#to be fair it’s not very hard to find Tall Brunette Man with Blonde Girl

[ninyard]

kevallison tweets/texts 👀👀👀 i love kevallison you can’t do this to me

I literally have a collection of Pics That Could Be Kevallison

like guys guys guys I need you to let me make like 7 editions of this one thanks <3

[subbykboys]

new to this | taeyong

↳ pairing : virgin!taeyong x reader

Genre ➞ pure smut oof

Warnings ➞ sub!taeyong, corruption kink, begging, mild degrading, handjob, fingering (m. receiving), public-ish(?), mild choking, running into walls

Word Count ➞ 8.3k

requested by @ninachocoo

posted ; 3.08.21

Hot. God, it was so hot. 

Then again, summer in your part of town always was. But this heat— this heat was different. It surrounded you, pulling perspiration from your pores and clinging to you persistently. It spilled down your throat, filling your lungs with every deep inhale. It robbed you of any and all of your energy, leaving you too tired to rouse yourself from where you lay on the cool tile floor of your kitchen in front of the open fridge (the absolute coldest spot you could find in your entire house). 

You didn’t cope very well in warm weather, if that wasn’t obvious. 

And, at the cost of your poor housemate’s sanity, you always found new and creative ways to cope with the excruciating rise in temperature, 

“Y/n a few of my— how many times do I have to tell you to stop doing that?!” You couldn’t bring yourself to so much as flinch as the fridge door was abruptly slammed shut, only managing to pull a whining complaint from the back of your throat as your only source of cool air was ever so rudely ripped away. 

“Fuck you, Mark. It’s too fucking hot to worry about the stupid electricity bill.” You huffed, peeling your eyes open just long enough to shoot an icy glare in the direction of the scowling brunette. 

He crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly, lower lip jutting out. “I think you forget that it’s a combination of both of our money going into paying them, so I think that I have a right to worry about how much is coming out of my pocket because you think that laying in front of an open fridge is a good way to ‘beat the heat’.” 

“Offer me a better solution, I’m open to suggestions.” You sighed tiredly. 

He only rolled his eyes. 

“Oh! I’ve got one,” you exclaimed suddenly, clapping your hands together as a gasp of excitement flew from your lips, “How about I just strip down and walk around butt ass naked? That should do the trick! Oh… but little Mark would like that a little too much, wouldn’t he?” You offered him a taunting pout, feigning sympathy as you glanced down unabashedly towards his crotch. 

Instinctively, his hands flew to cover himself as his cheeks throbbed a devastatingly obvious shade of red, bright enough to rival even the ripest of tomatoes. “Y–you—” 

Your lips curled with an amused smirk, but it faltered at the sound of thundering laughter coming from behind your flustered housemate. Your eyes followed the sound, finding its source in a group of about five or so men crowding up the foyer. Brows lifting in mild surprise, you shifted your attention back to an even more humiliated looking Mark. 

“You brought company.” An apology hung at the tip of your tongue. You really tried to keep your pg-13 teasing to a minimum around other people, especially knowing how susceptible Mark could be to his own embarrassment. 

“Hey Mark, I thought you said your roommate was a raging asshole with the sex drive of a teenaged boy on viagra? She seems pretty cool to me! And hot.” One of the taller boys chimed, a massive dopey grin plastered across his face. 

You turned to Mark slowly, brows raised. But he wouldn’t meet your eyes, head lowered. He wasn’t good at hiding his guilt. 

Welp. No apology for ole Marky boy today. 

“Please, allow me to properly introduce myself to our company.” Mark's eyebrows jumped all the way to his hairline as you pushed yourself off the floor and tossed an arm around his shoulder. “My name is (y/n), but I suppose Mark's asshole roommate with the sex drive of a teenage boy on viagra could work, too.” 

The look you shot him out of the corner of your eye had him shrinking in on himself, regret shining in his big brown eyes. But, you ruffled his hair, a silent reassurance that you weren’t all that torn up about the comment, especially considering it was hard to deny the layer of truth that lingered within it. 

You’d probably subjected Mark to more than his fair share of sleepless nights while you were up into the early morning giving the man (or woman) of the night the experience of a lifetime. A few scathing comments to close friends was more than understandable when looked upon in that light. Besides, you were never good at holding a grudge against your sweet, awkward, puppy-eyed housemate. 

The tall one that had spoken before chimed in eagerly, “I’m Yukhei, but my friends call me Lucas. Xuxi works, too. Or papi if you're feeling especially— ow!” Lucas yelped loudly as a hand connected to the back of a head with a sharp smack. You watched in amusement as another tall, charming looking man tugged him back, shooting him a warning glare before turning his attention to you. 

“Ignore him. He has a bad habit of forgetting his manners around attractive women. My name's Johnny, it’s great to finally meet you.” The sweet, disarming smile he offered you had any reservations melting away, and you easily returned the gesture before he proceeded with introductions. “This Haechan, Jaehyun, Doyoung, and— Taeyong?” 

Johnny pivoted around, brief confusion settling across his face before he spotted whoever he’d been looking for. Reaching behind Lucas, he grabbed someone's arm, tugging them into your line of sight. 

“And this is Taeyong!” He concluded with a grin, slapping a large hand down on the shorter boy’s shoulder. Taeyong dipped his head shyly, not meeting your eyes as he murmured a soft greeting that you were just barely able to catch. Soft tufts of dirty blonde hair fell over large brown eyes as he bowed politely, the air of meekness unmistakable. 

Oh, he’s cute. 

Your lips curled into an impish smirk. “Hi, Taeyong.” 

A faint blush darkened his cheeks and you caught a hint of a smile upturning the corners of his mouth. 

Really cute. 

Mark knew you well enough to see the gears beginning to turn in your head and coughed loudly when your stare lingered longer than necessary.

“O-kay, now that you’re all acquainted…” he stepped in swiftly, opting to intervene before you could get any wise ideas about his friend. “We have got a group project to work on and it would be extremely helpful if you’d refrain from providing any distractions. I already have a hard enough time trying to get them to focus for longer than five minutes as is.”

“Aww but I wanna hang out with your hot roommate, Mark.” Lucas whined loudly, practically throwing himself across Mark’s shoulders as the cutest pout you’ve probably ever seen fell across his lips. “She’s got a way nicer ass than any of you guys.” 

Doyoung sighed, his face screwing in second hand embarrassment for his friend’s shameless behavior. “Lucas, please.” 

“Have some dignity, man.” Haechan huffed additionally and you grinned in amusement as he grabbed the collar of Lucas’s shirt and began tugging him towards the living room. 

“Don’t worry, Mark. I’ll stay out of the way. I would hate to hinder your geek fest.” You teased, wrinkling your nose as you stepped past him. 

“Thank you, (y/n). I really— wait, Geek f– it’s a project worth thirty percent of our final grade!” 

“To-may-to, to-mah-to.” You waved a dismissive hand over your shoulder, before pausing briefly. Spinning on your heels, you turned back to face 

the cute boy, who visibly jolted the moment your attention landed on him. “It was very nice meeting you, Taeyong.” 

“Y- you, too.” He stuttered sweetly and you had to fight the overwhelming urge to reach over and pinch those adorable pink cheeks. Either pair. 

With one last sultry smile, and a wink just to fuck with Mark a little, you sauntered back into your bedroom. Miraculously, you were no longer concerned with the previously unbearable heat plaguing your apartment. Now, you had something —or rather, someone— far more interesting to occupy your mind. 

Taeyong was having a difficult time focusing, which was pretty out of ordinary. He had barely gotten anything done with his assigned part of the project, less than half a page filled out with what little information he managed to collect. Luckily, none of the other guys seemed to notice, too distracted by their own inabilities to focus to take notice of his. Otherwise he would have to concoct some lie. But he wasn’t good at lying. He was a terrible liar, in fact. So he would probably just end up blurting out the truth which was you. You were the reason he couldn’t focus. You with your mischievous eyes and your pretty smile and intoxicating laugh. Mark’s asshole roommate with the sex drive of a teenage boy on viagra. 

He’d seen pictures of you before. But they didn’t do you any justice. In pictures, you were pretty. In real life, you were beautiful, charming, witty, sexy, and you winked at him. Girls don’t wink at him. Not ever. But you had. You’d winked and smiled at him and he wasn’t sure if you were just teasing him because he flustered easily or if there was a chance it meant something a little more than that. 

… he secretly hoped it meant something a little more than that. 

But he shouldn’t be thinking about you right now. He should be thinking about finishing his research. Not your eyes. Not your smile. Not your voice of the way you purred his name and those shivers rushed down his spine and he could have sworn something twitched— okay. That’s enough. He really needed to splash some water in his face, cool down a little before his mind wandered to places it definitely should not. 

“Ah— Mark?” 

The younger boy lifted his head, brows raising. “’Sup?” 

“Where’s the bathroom?” 

He perked, tipping his chin forward. “Oh, it’s to the right of the k— shit, wait. That toilet’s busted. Um, just use the one in my room. It’s at the end of the hall.” 

“Thanks,” Taeyong pushed himself up with a soft grunt, nearly tripping over Yukhei’s long legs as he maneuvered himself around the cluttered coffee table, “I’ll be right back.” 

None of the other guys took much notice of how quickly he rushed out of the room, much to Taeyong’s relief. He let out a low breath the moment he turned the corner and found himself in a vacant hallway, but that relief was short lived. 

Mark had only said that his room was at the end of the hall. But, there were two doors at the end of the hall. Meaning one of them could possibly lead to your room. And you were in your room. Which meant if he walked through the wrong door on accident… he could walk in on you. Oh god. Heat rushed into his cheeks at the mere thought of such a humiliating occurrence. For a moment, he debated turning on his heels and returning to the living room. 

But, he wasn’t ready to go back to studying just yet. He was still feeling flushed and antsy and needed another moment or two to himself. Plus… he was actually starting to need to pee a little. Damn him and his tiny bladder.

Hesitating, he gently knocked on the door on the right side of the hall then waited ten seconds. No response. Just to be extra certain, he knocked twice more before finally turning the knob. Cautiously, he peeked his head inside. The black out curtains were drawn tight so the room was dark, too dark to make out anything defining outside of the vague shape of a bed and dresser tucked into the far corner. It took a few minutes of stumbling blindly through the inky blackness, tripping over clothes and extension wires until he found what he hoped to be the bathroom door. 

Without too much of a second thought, he opened the door. 

Then he froze. 

He thought it was Mark’s room. He really did. He thought he was tripping over Mark’s clothes and Mark’s wires. Though, he probably should have noticed the light coming out from beneath the bathroom door, indicating that someone might be inside. Or maybe he did but ignored it because– because maybe Mark just left the light on. That could have happened. That totally could have happened. 

But it didn’t. 

Because it wasn’t Mark’s room. Those weren’t his clothes or his wires and he didn’t leave the light on. 

He realized this all too late of course. Because now he was staring at you. You who was wet and naked and… wet and naked. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He could only stare, dumbstruck, mind short circuiting as billowing steam curled around the shape of your body like an iridescent veil, beautiful skin glistening under the soft golden light. Your head was tipped back, lips slightly parted, hands soothing your slick hair out of your face as the hot water cascading down the swells of your 

breasts and over the curves of your shoulders.

It was like watching something out of a pornographic shampoo commercial. 

“Oh—” it was somewhere between a whine and gasp, strangled and broken by the time it escaped his trembling lips. It was so quiet, you shouldn’t have been able to hear it over the hiss of water. So it took him off guard when your eyes opened and flicked in his direction. 

He flinched, body jolting backwards like it intended to make a break for it, but it was like your stare locked him into place. His brain was screaming at him to do something; to move, to  turn away, close his eyes, apologize, bash his head against the freaking wall, literally anything but stand there staring at you with his mouth open like a complete idiot. But he couldn’t. 

The corner of your mouth curled, forming into a downright devilish smirk that sent hot tendrils of desire spiraling through his veins. Then you quirked a brow and it was like a burst of electricity bringing him back to life. His hands flew up from where they’d been frozen at his sides, slapping so hard over his eyes that he yelped in shock at the sting. 

“Ohmygod I- I am so sorry! I am so—” he whirled around, spewing high pitched apologies as he scrambled for the door. Only, his eyes were closed so instead of bolting out the door he face planted into the wall next to the door. “Ow!” 

Your low laughter rippled through the small bathroom and red hot embarrassment raced up his neck and into his face. He could only whimper out one finally strained apology as he clutched his throbbing nose and stumbled back into the darkness of your bedroom, slamming the door sharply behind him. 

By the time he’d managed to scramble back into the hall, Taeyong felt like he was on fire. His heart was beating wildly in his chest and he was certain if he dared to look in a mirror he’d be the equivalent of a tomato. 

Humiliation gripped at his throat, squeezing painfully around his airway every time he recalled the previous events. He’d never be able to face you again. Not after that train wreck. Not ever. Groaning distraughtly, he sank against the wall, silently wishing that the floor would just swallow him up and put an end to his suffering.

But, there was something worse than the embarrassment. Something hotter and harder, throbbing shamelessly in the confines of his suddenly far too jeans. He saw you naked— wet and naked, looking like a freaking goddess beneath the stream of hot water, soap suds still clinging to your skin. He had never seen a woman like that before. Not in person, at least. And none as beautiful as you. 

Biting his lip, he squeezed his legs together, trying his best to will away his progressively hardening erection. That, of course, did not work. And it didn’t help in the slightest that every time he so much as blinked, the image of you in the shower came rushing to the forefront of his mind, still fresh and vivid and devastating. 

Oh god. There was no was no way he could go back to working on the project now. If he thought he was being unproductive before— he probably wouldn’t be able to get a single legible word written with the image of you and your body burned into the back of his eyelids. 

He was doomed. 

And he still needed to pee. 

Damnit. 

It was about nine at night when the low voices transformed into booming laughter, the walls practically vibrating under the barrage of stomping feet. It didn’t take a genius to deduce that they’d finished up on their project— either that or they mutually reached the end of their attention spans. 

Regardless, you were bored of remaining cooped up in your bedroom merely for the sake of your roommate’s econ grade and needed to stretch your legs a bit. Not to mention you were beginning to crave something greasy and unhealthy. You were almost certain the group of college boys lounging in your living room wouldn’t be opposed to some pizza, fries, and milkshakes from your favorite delivery place. 

“I don’t know about you boys but I’m starving!” You sang brightly as you all but skipped into the room. All eyes swung to you, wide and stunned as they watched you waltz over to where Mark sat in the love seat and throw yourself into his lap like it was the most normal thing in the world. He grunted under your weight, lip curling in annoyance but wrapped his arms securely around your stomach nonetheless. You pretended not to notice the lingering eyes of one particular boy, meticulously curled into the farthest corner of the couch. “Anyone down to order?” 

“Ugh please!” Yukhei exclaimed, throwing his head back dramatically. “I am dying of hunger.” 

The others were eager to voice their own agreement and you turned to Mark with an expectant smile. “Rubio’s?” He asked, already reaching for his phone. 

“Read my mind.” You hummed, pinching his cheek until he hissed and swatted you away. 

It was nothing short of chaos trying to get everyone’s orders, multiple overlapping voices making it hard to discern exactly who was asking for what, but somehow Mark managed to place all of the requests with only a handful of difficulties. Well, all but one. 

“Taeyong.” 

The boy’s head jerked up so fast at the sound of his name that you were surprised you hadn’t heard something crack. Up until then he’d been sitting quietly with his knees to his chest, staring at his feet, pointedly avoiding looking in your general direction. He could only hold your gaze for a few tense seconds before his cheeks flamed and he dropped his eyes. 

“I– uh– y- yes?” He coughed, blinking hard. 

You tilted your head, offering him an innocent smile. “Is there anything you’d like to eat?” You couldn’t stop yourself from adding an unnecessarily suggestive pitch to the question, words dancing wickedly across your tongue. 

Taeyong swallowed and pulled his knees tighter to his chest. “I– I’ll just have some of the- the pizza.” The words tumbled clumsily out of his mouth and your grin only widened as he became more and more flustered under the heat of your persistent stare. 

“Perfect. Then we can share.” 

The poor boy nearly choked on air when you abruptly pushed yourself off of Mark and sauntered over to where he sat, squeezing in between him and an eager Yukhei, who was more than happy to make room for you. His entire body went rigid, brief panic shooting across his features as you made yourself comfortable. It was tight with Jaehyun, Lucas, Taeyong and now you all squished onto the couch, so you were practically flush against him, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. You pretended not to notice that he was holding his breath. 

“Thirty minutes.” Mark announced, shutting off his phone and shoving it back into his pocket. 

“What should we do while we wait?” Jaehyun asked, ignoring Yukhei as he whined about how he’d be dead of starvation before the food even arrived. 

“Movie?” Haechan suggested. 

You perked. “I know a good one.” 

“No— no.” Mark cut in quickly, pointing a finger with the intention to reprimand in your direction. “Every time you pick a movie it’s either fucked up or really fucked up. So no.” 

“Don’t be a pussy, Mark.” You huffed, wrinkling your nose at him. “Just because you don’t like horror movies doesn’t mean your friends don’t.” 

“I, for one, love a good horror movie!” Yukhei remarked, a smug grin breaking across his lips as he shot a flirtatious wink in your direction. 

Haechan scoffed. “Bullshit! You couldn’t sleep alone for a week after we watched The Shining. And that wasn’t even scary!” 

“There was a tidal wave of blood.” He grumbled defensively, crossing his arms over his chest as he slumped, lower lip jutting out dramatically.

“No tidal wave of blood is this one, promise.” You snickered, snatching the remote from the cluttered coffee table and switching on the television. It only took a few minutes of browsing through Netflix before you finally located the movie you’d saved to your watch list a few weeks ago but had never gotten the chance to watch. 

Marked hopped up to flick off the lights as you pressed play, any excited or nervous murmurs coming to a halt as the opening credits rolled across the screen. Beside you, Taeyong tensed, squeezing his legs even tighter to his chest. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, not missing the nervous way he gnawed at his lower lip even in the darkness. 

“Not good with horror movies?” You hummed, nudging his knee. He flinched in surprise, eyes shooting over to meet yours before he quickly diverted his attention back to the screen. 

“No, not– not really.” He admitted weakly, clearing his throat. 

A playful smirk twirled onto your lips and you subtly leaned into him, whispering near his ear, “you can hold my hand if you get scared.” 

A fierce blush consumed his cheeks, illuminated by the soft grey light of the television. “I– I’ll be okay.” He coughed when his voice cracked and you chuckled under your breath, opting to cut the poor boy some slack… for now. 

The movie progressed with the usual eerie start before transitioning into something lighter, though the low hum of anticipation-building music never ceased. Even if at some point it became rather repetitive, you thoroughly enjoyed a good horror movie. Most of the time, they failed to meet expectations and you left feeling rather disappointed that your stomach hadn’t leapt into your throat any point throughout the film. However, every once in a while, you were pleasantly surprised. 

Now, was not one of those times. 

Boredom quickly settled over you as the plot developed, revealing itself to be almost identical to a number of horror movies you’d watched in the past. You slumped back in your seat, a subtle scowl staining your lips. But then… inspiration. Devious, unquestionably self indulgent inspiration that risked putting a certain someone in a possibly very awkward (but also very delightful) position. 

The slow slide of your eyes from the television over to the boy seated at your left revealed that not everyone found the movie to be boring and repetitive. Taeyong was practically trembling. He had both of his hands over his face, wide, uncertain eyes peeking out timidly from between his index and middle fingers. 

You had to sink your teeth into your lip in order to subdue the large grin threatening to break across your face. 

Fuck, he’s too adorable. 

Unable to resist, you allowed a curious hand to wander towards his leg. With a brush so subtle it could’ve been mistaken for a breeze, you traced a finger over the seam of his pants. But, with his senses on high alert, it wasn’t a sensation he missed. He jolted violently, head swinging in your direction. There was fear in his eyes, but it quickly melted into relief else once he realized it was you and not some demon. 

Then his eyes drifted to where your finger lingered, hovering over his clothed thigh, and the relief transformed into something else entirely. Something hot and shameful and desperate, something he tried to hide behind frantically fluttering eyelids and quivering lips. But it was unmistakable. 

You lifted your brows, a silent question swirling in your gaze. He swallowed, breath coming out in quick, shallow huffs as the unnameable emotion thickened inside of him, then he nudged his leg shyly towards you. The air you didn’t realize you were holding in your lungs rushed out in one quick exhale, a subtle smirk curling onto your lips as excitement swirled in your gut. Taeyong sucked his lower lip into his mouth as your open palm landed boldly on his lower thigh, fingers pressing gently into the clothed muscle just above his knee. 

For a few minutes, it remained there, not moving any lower or any high, simply resting on his leg and he found himself relaxing beneath your touch. The heat of your hand was a welcome –comforting, even– distraction from the horror movie that had progressed to the point in the plot where the reckless characters put themselves directly into the line of danger instead of taking the intelligent path that would help them avoid it all together. You could feel the tension returning to Taeyong’s muscles as suspense building music poured from the surround sound speakers. 

In a two sided attempt to both comfort and tease, you began gently massaging his thigh. His breath audibly hitched, gaze straying from the screen once more in favor of watching the slow, deliberate motion of your fingers squeezing around his leg. That alone was enough to set his long neglected desire to flames. It burned within him, hot and dangerous, turning his face a dark, flattering crimson. 

It was too much. He’d never been touched like this before. You weren’t even close to his crotch and he could still feel the distinctive hardening beneath the zipper of his jeans which were growing tighter and tighter with every passing moment. At this rate, he’d make a mess of himself before the movie even reached its climax. 

The mere thought of coming untouched was enough to make his head feel dizzy, a mixture of humiliation and heady lust licking at his nerves. 

He couldn’t believe he was feeling this way, in a room full of his friends no less. If one of them were to look over, even through darkness, it would be impossible to miss your hand laid across his lap or the feverish blush coating his face, illuminated by the dull light of the tv. 

Then, your hand shifted higher. It was a minute movement, couldn’t have been more than an inch or two. But it had his pulse spiking in his veins nonetheless, blood rushing downward. You gripped gently at the inside of his slim thigh, thumb tracing slow, calculated circles into the rough material of his jeans. He trembled beneath the teasing ministrations, jaw clenched to fight back the urge to moan as your curious touch wandered upwards once more. 

“Is this alright?” 

The question came unexpectedly, a sudden rush of warm breath hitting the curve of his throat. He sucked his lips into his mouth, shivering faintly at the low, rough sound of your voice, just quiet enough that none of the other men in the room could make it out. 

He offered a sharp, jerky nod, desperately heaving in deep breath through his nose. The corner of your mouth curled. 

“God you're shaking. Are you that sensitive? Or do you just get off on getting felt up in front of all your friends? How naughty.” You chuckled tauntingly, words borderline malicious. 

“I– I don’t— I’m not—” he swallowed, shaking his head frantically in denial of your words, despite the flames they ignited inside of him. 

“I think you are.” You purred, tracing your index finger lightly over his prominent bulge, eliciting a strangled moan from his trembling lips. He was fortunate enough that at the very moment the sound escaped, some ditzy bimbo began screaming her lungs out in the movie. Still, he slapped a hand over his offending lips, looking around frantically to see if anyone had heard his slip up. Luckily enough, it seemed they hadn’t. 

This was payback, he realized abruptly, this was payback for walking in on you showering. 

But even if it was— 

It felt too damn good. 

His head tipped back, hand surging to cover his burning face and stifle his whimpers as you suddenly gripped firmly at his clothed length. A low, appreciative hum thrummed through your chest as you felt him twitch, delighting in just how responsive he was to your touch. His thighs squeezed together, hips shuddering upwards as you mapped him out. 

The urge to set your teeth upon his neck was almost overwhelming, but you resisted only because it might draw some attention from the room’s other, currently oblivious, occupants. You doubted Yukhei would miss it, even if he was desperately hiding his eyes behind those astoundingly massive hands. 

But shit was it tempting. 

His pretty porcelain skin would look so good painted in varying shades of pink and red. So sweet and pure… you wanted to taint him. 

He couldn’t stop moving now, squirming and quivering in place. He was unraveling right before your eyes, and you were devouring it. What a sight… 

Warmth stirred in your belly, and you rolled your palm down. He jolted violently, then in the next second he was up on his feet. It happened so quickly that you nearly fell over, just barely catching yourself from falling into the spot he previously occupied. Yukhei shrieked in shock, throwing himself directly into Jaehyun’s lap. 

“Fuck, Taeyong! You almost gave me a heart attack!” Haechan shrilled, clutching a pillow against his chest. Instead of responding, Taeyong jerked forward, the movement sharp and robotic, like his body wasn’t quite caught up to his brain. 

“What are you doing?” Doyoung asked, squinting at him through the darkness. “And why do you look so—” 

“B- B- Bathroom!” Taeyong squeaked out abruptly. You could only watch with wide eyes and gaping lips as he proceeded to run out of the living room like his ass was on fire. 

“Movie must’ve freaked him out.” Johnny muttered. 

“It’s not even that bad.” Yukhei scoffed in a voice too high pitched for his words to sound believable, grunting when Jaehyun shoved him off of his lap. Noisy banter was quick ensue. Noisy and distracting enough for you to make a quick and silent escape without catching any of the other boys’ attention. 

“Taeyong?” You called softly, worry churning in your gut that you overstepped or upset him. “Tae, I’m sorry if I—” you gasped, words cutting off in your throat as a hand found your wrist and you were quickly tugged around the corner and into the unlit hallway. 

The motion was so unexpected you ended up tripping over your own feet, having to slam a hand against the wall to steady yourself. But it was only when you felt a rush of quick, warm breath against your face that you realized the position you’d gotten yourself into. Taeyong was standing in front of you, face flushed a feverish shade of red, faint perspiration glistening on his skin, and he was standing with his spine flush against the wall, effectively caged in by your body. And he was looking at you. 

Really looking at you. 

With the kind of eyes that had something tightening deliciously in the pit of your stomach, chills of excitement ricocheting through your veins. 

“Tae?” His name was less than a breath on your lips, laced with an unspoken question. He sucked his lower lip into his mouth, fluttering gaze dancing across your face. 

“I almost…” he swallowed, shivering voice tapering off as he became overwhelmed by the proximity. He could smell your shampoo, a subtle, smoky-vanilla kind of scent that made his head feel dizzy. “I almost c- came.” 

The corner of your mouth swirled, both amused and charmed by the way he whispered the word, tone so innocent and shy that the filthy meaning behind it almost became misconstrued in your head. 

“Do you want to come, Taeyong?” You asked quietly, jutting a knee forward to press between his thighs. He gasped, trembling lips silently caressing the shape of your name as his hands shot forward, clutching desperately onto the sides of your shirt. A shy nod was all he could muster, the words feeling far too dirty to say aloud. But you weren’t satisfied. 

“Say it.” You murmured, nose brushing against his. His breath hitched at the command, warmth flushing through his veins beneath the staggering heat of your dark, hooded gaze. “If you want it, say it. If you don’t, tell me now.” 

“I want it!” He said quickly, only to flush and shrink in on himself, taken aback by his own outburst. Licking his lips, he repeated himself in a much softer voice, “I– I want it.” 

You let out a low hum, curving a gentle hand around his jaw. “Can I kiss you?” 

A shock ran through his body, his wide eyes snapping down to trace to soft lines of your mouth. “Yes.” He breathed, suddenly desperate for a taste of your lips. You didn’t deny him. 

The first brush of your lips against his is light, delicate… teasing. It made his knees tremble, fierce anticipation and wild desire running rampant through him. He opened up for you like a goddamn flower in bloom, melting sweetly when you applied even the slightest bit more pressure. His mouth was soft and warm, his kiss shy. And there was something ever so endearing about the way he clutched at your top like it was the only thing keeping him upright. 

You kept the pace deliberately slow, relishing in the soft moans that fluttered from his chest as you sucked his lower lip into your mouth, gently sinking your teeth into the sensitive flesh. He was wracked by a violent full body shiver when you licked over the seam of his lip. 

God he’s adorable. 

His strong reactions made you wonder if he’d ever been kissed like this before. Or, perhaps, this was a new experience entirely. 

“Taeyong.” He whimpered when you abruptly broke away from the kiss, but you ignored it. “Are you a virgin?” 

His eyes widened, a deep red flooding his cheeks. Then, he nodded, gaze dropping to the floor as the tips of his ears darkened. 

Wicked excitement curled in your gut, heat licking at your veins at the thought of being the first to corrupt such a sweet… innocent… 

“Have you ever been touched before?” 

He shook his head, chest pressing against your with every jagged inhale he drew into his lungs. 

You dipped a hand between your bodies, trailing teasingly down his stomach. “Would you like to be touched?” Your voice had dropped at least an octave, a low, rasping whisper that nearly made him keen. 

“Yes.” A devious grin settled across your lips at the quickness of his reply. Didn’t even need to think that one over, huh? 

You slid your hand over his crotch, feeling his hips buck uncontrollably when you squeezed. “Just looking at you,” you began, toying with his zipper, “I never would’ve guessed what a little slut you are.” 

“I- I’m not a slut.” He whimpered, digging his fingers into your waist. 

“Aren’t you, though?” You popped the button of his jeans. “I mean, take a good look at yourself, Yongie; letting yourself get felt up and teased by your best friend’s roommate while they’re just in the next room over. Seems pretty slutty to me.” 

Taeyong couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped his chest at the degrading word, his cock twitching within the confines of his boxers. Slipping a finger beneath the elastic, you tugged it away from his skin, letting out a playful coo when his weeping pink tip peeked out. The blush on his face intensified tenfold, both of his hands dropping down instinctively to cover himself. But you were faster, snatching his wrists and pinning them against the wall on either side of his head. 

“Don’t even think about it.” 

Shivering, he offered a compliant nod. 

“Good boy.” 

He barely had time to form a reaction to the praise before he felt you around him, stroking and caressing. The responding moan that burst from his lips was loud— too loud. You were quick to cover his gaping mouth, successfully muffling the series of succeeding gasps and whimpers. 

“Careful, sweetheart,” you clicked your tongue, watching the way his eyes fluttered and rolled as you tightened your grip around his cock, “you wouldn’t want your hyungs to find out what a little slut you’re being, now would you? Mark was so kind, inviting you into his home… How do you think he’d feel if he were to see you taking advantage of his hospitality, getting your pretty little cock played with by his roommate? How shameless...” 

Taeyong whimpered, and you felt the gentle press of his lips against your palm, followed by a meek flick of his tongue. He was looking at you now, really looking at you, with the kind of pathetic, wanting eyes that never failed to make your skin burn in excitement. You wondered if you could make him cry, overwhelm him with pleasure to the point where he couldn’t keep his emotions at bay. The desire to ruin him was almost unbearable. 

Swirling your thumb over his tip, you slotted a leg between his, pressing up against him from underneath. He nearly keened at the pressure, hips rolling greedily over your thigh, simultaneously pumping his cock into your closed fist. Heaven, this must be heaven. Honestly, you hadn’t expected him to succumb to his desires so readily, with such… enthusiasm. But this Taeyong surprised you at every turn. You’d thought he’d be shy, reserved, hesitant to give in, but here he was, riding your thigh and fucking your hand like his life depended on it, his muffled moans pulsing beneath your palm. 

It’d be a flat out lie to say you weren’t beyond turned on. 

There was a slick warmth building between your thighs, soaking into the fabric of your underwear, and tight knots in your stomach, threatening to burst at any given moment. The knowledge that less than thirty feet away, your roommate and all his friends were gathered and one stray moan from the crumbling man before you could give away all the filthy things you were doing to him stroked the lustful flames blazing through your blood. One glimpse into those hooded, glassy brown eyes told you he was suffering from a similar burn. 

“Turn around.” You demanded, somewhat breathless as you tore your hands off of him. A low whimper escaped past trembling lips at the loss of stimulation, a shiver rippling down his spine as his hard, abandoned cock swung through empty air. Regardless, he was quick to comply, spinning himself around and pressing his palms flat against the wall. You hummed a praise, pleased with his eager compliance, rewarding him with your touch. He gasped, forced to sink his teeth into his lip to stifle his whimpers as your hands slipped over his body: one returning to stroke his dick while the other pushed beneath the material of his top, venturing up to his chest where your fingers set to toying with his sensitive nipples. 

“(y/n)—” he moaned your name desperately, rocking his body back against yours as overwhelming pleasure pulsed through his veins. 

“Easy, sweetheart,” you chuckled darkly, splaying a steadying palm across his hips as they began grinding back into yours, “you sound like you're about to burst.” 

He moaned, shuddering when you caressed his sensitive tip, and an idea struck you. 

“Can you do something for me, Tae?” You asked, voice a low, rasping against the shell of his ear. “Can you suck?” 

Any short lived confusion dissipated from his mind when he felt your fingers nudging at the soft flesh of his lips. A deep blush flooded into his cheeks, but his mouth opened nonetheless, shyly taking your digits inside. 

“There you go…” you purred, feeling his tongue lick delicately at the pads of your middle and ring finger. He sucked, and you lowered your head to press slow, encouraging kisses laced with whispered praises to the juncture of his throat. You felt the soft vibrations of his muffled moans quivering through your knuckles and against your lips. He was shaking, the stimulation to his cock causing violent tremors to wrack his body. He wasn’t far off from release, you could tell as much by the way he was twitching and the slow increase in volume of his sounds. 

But you weren’t finished yet. 

Not by a long shot. 

You pulled your fingers from his mouth, the suction of his lips giving with a lewd, wet pop. A filthy sound coming from such innocent lips. 

Leaning forward, you nipped gently at the shell of his red tinted ear, hand releasing his dick in favor of venturing beneath the hem of his pants. You heard his breath hitched and offered quietly, “Tell me if you want me to stop.” 

Taeyong nodded in understanding, but offered no resistance as you pushed the thick denim down over the soft curve of his ass. His shoulders jumped, a gasp shooting from his lips when you slid a saliva soaked finger between his cheeks, coming to the abrupt realization of what your intentions were. 

“O– oh—” 

“Is this alright?” 

He swallowed, glancing back at you from over his shoulder. “I– I’ve never…” 

You soothed a hand down the front of his thigh, “it’s okay if you don’t want to.” 

There was no judgement in your tone, rather a gentleness to the reassurance that put his buzzing nerves at ease. “That’s not it,” he shook his head, gnawing at the corner of his lip as a soft pink crept across his cheeks, “j– just…” 

“Just?” 

Taeyong drew in a deep, trembling breath. Your furrowed brows shot to your hairline, heat twisting in your gut as he suddenly bent himself over, sticking his ass out, practically fucking presenting himself to you. “B- be gentle…” he whispered shyly, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow. 

Steam would surely start coming out of your nose if your temperature rose any further. This is fucking ridiculous. How was it possible for a man to be so cute yet so sexy all at once? This couldn’t be good for your health… 

Smirking deviously, you settled a palm between his shoulder blades, pressing down ever so slightly and watching as he delicately arched his spine. “I’m always gentle.” 

A hiccuping moan rushed from his chest at the first careful press of your finger, his brows furrowing deeply as his muscles tightened in response to the foreign stretch. 

“Relax, sweetheart.” You reminded lightly, settling soothing kisses across his shoulder. He drew in a series of deep breaths, allowing himself to adjust to the sensation of having something inside of him while melting into the tender caress of your cool lips across his feverish skin. You felt the slow dissipation of tension, felt the way he melted beneath you. “There you go…” you cooed, easing into him until your knuckle before allowing him a few moments to adjust. 

He was panting, forehead thudding softly against the wall as his hips trembled, a strange but not unpleasant feeling sparking to life inside of him. 

“Oh…” it was a barely audible sound, soft and breathless of shuddering lips. But you didn’t miss it, didn’t miss the way his shoulders drooped, his walls tight relaxing ever so faintly around the intruding digit. The corner of your mouth curled upwards in a salacious smirk, and you curled your finger experimentally. 

His reaction was instantaneous, a moan of surprise entwined with unexpected pleasure rushing from his flush throat. He glanced back at you from over his shoulder, eyes wide and trembling, hazy with an emotion you immediately recognized as pure, unfiltered lust. Your grin widened, almost triumphant as you whispered, “feel that?” 

He nodded rapidly, a gasp of breath wracking his chest. “Yes,” his hands were curling into fists where they were braced against the plaster wall. 

“Wanna feel it again?” 

The sound he let out was a combination of several things, keening and desperate for the sensation he’d never before experienced. “Please. Please.” 

It was impossible to say anything but yes when he begged like that. 

You rewarded him by stretching him out around a second finger, his knees nearly giving out when you thrust them in as deep as they would go. He was an absolute mess, forced to slap a quivering hand over his gaping mouth when his teeth proved insufficient at keeping his sounds in. You were enjoying yourself perhaps a little too much, enjoying watching him slowly crumble, enjoying watching his innocence shatter into tiny irreparable pieces on the floor beside glistening drops of precum. He was just too irresistible… 

“You’re about to come, aren’t you?” He was nodding before you even finished the question, muffled moans and sobs escaping through his fingers as he fucked himself back onto yours. You curve a hand around the shape of his jaw, tugging his head back at an angle that surely causes a strain in his neck, and slot your lips into his. Shoving your tongue down his throat proves a far more efficient means of keeping him quiet. 

But when you curled your fingers inside of him, subsequently stroking that sensitive bundle of nerves, even your mouth wasn’t enough to stifle the shriek of pleasure that burst from his throat. You were hoping the screams you heard emulating from the other room were enough to drown it out. 

“Keep your voice down.” You all but snarled, curling a hand around his throat. 

“I- I can’t— oh god, it feels so g- good.” He babbled, voice strained from the sheer effort of trying to keep himself from crying out in bliss. “I’m g- gonna come— I’m gonna c- come—” the sound of him choking on his words, gasping for breath around the added resistance of your restricting hold was even hotter than you imagined it would be. 

“Gone on, sweetheart. Let me see you make a mess of yourself.” You kissed the shell of his ear, deciding then to have mercy and offer his pathetic, weeping cock a helping hand. He was finished the moment your fingers grazed his tip, struck with an orgasm so powerful it had his knees buckling beneath the weight of his quivering body. 

His jaw when slack, unleashing every pent up sound he’d managed to keep bottled up thus far. They came rushing out of him too quickly to stop, not that you made much of an effort. You were enjoying the way he was moaning your name like it was his saving grace far too much to care whether or not the other boys were hearing. In fact, the thought of them hearing their sweet, innocent Taeyong whimpering like a bitch in heat, moaning your name, gave you an unexpected rush of delight. 

You didn’t stop fucking your fingers into his tight little hole until you were certain you’d milked him for all he was worth, until he was reduced to little more than a trembling, whimpering mess against your chest, barely able to keep himself upright. 

“Oh my g- god.” He murmured shakily, head falling back to rest on your shoulder. 

A low chuckle slid from your lips as you gently released his spent cock, simultaneously pulling out of him. He winced faintly, whining weakly at the unpleasant emptiness that ensued. 

“That felt pretty good didn’t it?” You teased. 

He bit his lip, humming airily as he melted into your hold. 

“You’re a good boy, aren’t you, Taeyong?” Your words danced over the curve of his throat, flooding his senses with the fluttering implication. Blushing, he nodded, a shy bob of his head that caused the sweat soaked fringes of his bangs to fall over his eyes, clinging delicately to his pretty eyelashes. “Words?” 

“I—” he swallowed, gaze flitting as his face reddened further, “I’m a g- good boy.” 

You mouth curled deviously. Holding your come covered hand up to his panting mouth, you whispered against the shell of his ear, “good boys clean up their mess.” 

His breath hitched, wide eyes jumping over to meet yours. You held his gaze boldly, cocking an expectant brow. Then, ever so lightly, his tongue dipped out from between red bitten lips, kitten licking his come from your fingertips. You could’ve come right then and there, watching him shyly lap his own release from your hand. Honestly you would’ve been happy to stay like that all night, his tongue tracing the lines of your palm, caressing your knuckles… 

But then the doorbell rang, and someone cleared their throat in the other room. 

“Uh… foods here.” 

Taeyong leapt away from you with a gasp, flushing deeply as his hands flew to tuck himself back into his jeans. 

“D- do you think they—” his voice cracked and he coughed as crimson crept up his neck. 

You smirked, not in the least bit ashamed. 

“Oh, definitely.”

A/N; well i dropped off the face of the earth, sorry about that loves. but i think you’ll be happy to know that i have a number of wip sitting in drafts, should i tease the banners? 

[janeofcakes]

Soulmate: How John Met Sherlock...Again  Chapter 2

Hello, my friends! I come to you today knowing there is but one burning question in your minds today: What will Gracie and Olive get up to next? Okay, maybe two: When the hell will John and Sherlock meet, Jane? Tell me. Tell me now! Haha. Patience, my lovelies. You know I can't write a story without stringing you along for a while first. I am very firmly on the naughty list and like our dear friend, Martin Freeman I cannot abide being on anyone's nice list. Mwahaha.

I also wanted to say that the next few chapters are not as long as the first. There was so much to get through in that one. I hope you aren't disappointed. The good news is my typing and editing are going well so I should be able to keep my weekend schedule. Hooray!Happy reading. Jane

----

Gracie casts a side look at Olive from where she sits on the jungle gym. It is afternoon break and the two girls just climbed frantically up the poles and bars to sit at the top for a rest after running themselves ragged all over the playground pretending to be Nancy Drew and George Fayne solving a mystery. Every day since Monday has gone more or less the same way. They play together for morning break, talk at lunch and play again in the afternoon. They write notes on one another’s notebooks during lessons, but manage not to disrupt class or miss instruction. It has been a truly amazing first week of school, better than Gracie could have ever imagined.

Gracie looks at Olive again and feels her throat swell. It’s like she has known Olive forever. They seem to always understand each other and be in perfect sync. Gracie has talked about nothing else at home and has even dreamed about playing with Olive each night. Olive has told her all kinds of things about London and its history. Tower Bridge, London Bridge, the National Theatre, but what Gracie is most interested in seeing is the Tower of London. She asked her father just last night if they could go sometime to see the old castle and the crown jewels. She can’t wait to see and do everything, and it would be even better if Olive could come along for some of it. London is much more exciting than Bath ever was, hands down!

“Gracie,” Olive begins in a lazy tone, “how do you feel about bees?”

Turning to face her friend fully, Gracie furrows her brow and frowns. Olive does not react to the movement and continues looking at something in the distance, or perhaps at nothing at all. Gracie says nothing at first, wondering if Olive had been talking before and all Gracie heard was the bee question. The taller girl finally turns her head and fixes the blonde with an inquisitive gaze. Gracie frowns as she considers the question. She is not really partial to any insect, nor is she upset by them. 

“They’re all right, I guess,” Gracie shrugs. “They make honey, so there’s that.”

“Mm…” Olives hums in approval. “True.”

Gracie raises her brows, every inch of her face asking ‘What are you on about?’. Olive blinks and seems to realize she was lost in her own mind, leaving Gracie with absolutely no context for the question.

“That’s what my dad wants to do when he retires,” Olive explains. “Beekeeping. In Sussex, probably.”

Oh no. This can’t be happening. Gracie just met Olive and had the best week of her life and now she’s going to lose her to bees?!

“You’d leave London then?” Gracie chokes on the words, not even trying to hide her distress.

“Yeah,” Olive answers absently, playing with the end of her long braid. “He says they’re fascinating.”

Gracie’s whole body tenses and her stomach roils. She feels sick and a bit dizzy when she glances away from Olive to a girl laughing wildly on the swings. It’s like a bad dream spiraling out of control to the soundtrack of that girl’s mad laughter. Gracie bites her lip hard to ground herself and looks back at Olive.

“Is he close to retiring?” Gracie forces out, beads of sweat beginning to collect at her temples.

“What? No,” Olive huffs a laugh and looks at Gracie again. “He’s definitely old, but not ancient. He has too much fun working anyway. Hey, are you okay?”

“Fun?” Gracie asks incredulously, ignoring her friend’s inquiry. “At a crime scene?”

“Oh, yeah, he loves it,” Olive laughs, seeing Gracie begin to relax. “He loves a good mystery. Locked room murders are his favorite.”

“Wow,” Gracie mutters, only half understanding what that means.

“He used to have a partner, you know,” Olive adds with a grin. “He loved it even more then.”

“So he had his own Clue Crew?” excited energy vibrates through Gracie’s body as she pictures a grown up and male version of Olive with a man and woman posed behind him like on Charlie’s Angels. Gracie’s dad loves old shows and movies, so she has seen her fair share. James Bond is his favorite. She makes a note to ask Olive if she has ever seen any of them.

“Not a crew,” the brunette corrects. “Just the one partner. They solved all kinds of cases together. They were best friends.”

“Like us?”

“Yep, exactly like us,” Olive says with a flash of teeth. Gracie grins too and is about to ask about Bond when something else pops to the forefront of her mind.

“Oh! It’s like my dad’s bedtime stories!” Gracie blurts eagerly. “Sam Williams and Dean Jensen. They’re best friends and solve crimes together. That’s how I got started on Nancy Drew in the first place. Dad’s read some of the old ones to me.”

“Really?” Olive cries. “Oh! Oh! Mystery of the 99 Steps?”

“That’s my favorite!” Gracie shrieks, her hands flying to her cheeks.

“Mine too!” Olive gasps.

“Girls,” the teacher on duty calls up to them from the ground below. They look down at her, all wide eyes and smiles. “Time to go back inside.”

They climb down as the teacher walks away to tell other kids. The two girls bound towards the school, slowing to a walk as they get closer. Gracie feels something brush against her hand and glances at it just in time to see Olive’s longer fingers wrap around it. She shifts her wide eyes to her friend’s, barely able to contain her joy.

“We should get our dads to read us the same old Nancy Drew book, a chapter each night,” Olive tells her conspiratorially. “Then we can compare notes the next day and see if we can solve it before Nancy.”

“That’s the best idea!” Gracie crows. “We can figure out which one during library time.”

“And then you check it out,” Olive says decisively. “Mrs. Hudson has all of them. I can borrow it from her.”

“Ok,” Gracie agrees, already knowing so much about Olive’s godmother that she doesn’t even question the woman would have the whole series. Honestly, Gracie wants to meet her almost as much as she wants to meet Olive’s detective father.

The two girls giggle for a moment at their new plan and then skip into the school building.

***

Saturday afternoon finds Gracie hand in hand with Candace McCleary, a nanny John handpicked while Gracie was still in Bath. They met the day after Gracie arrived last week and she instantly fell in love with Candace, much to John’s relief. Candace would not be a live-in nanny, but is employed like one. John needs her to get Gracie from school and stay with her until he gets home in the evenings. He also needs her to be available at a moment’s notice for when an emergency, like the birth of a baby, arises. John had warned his daughter after Angela Taylor’s check-up on Wednesday that he thought the baby would come early and probably at a most inconvenient time. Sure enough, he received the call just as he started lunch. Gracie was disappointed that her first trip to Hanover Gate Children’s Playground in Regent’s Park would be without her father, but was still over the moon when Candace was happy to take her. She had been looking forward to it almost all week.

“Oh my gosh!” Gracie exclaims as she and Candace approach the playground. There is equipment everywhere to climb and swing on and slide down. Gracie immediately decides the sandpit is first on her list. A tall tree stands in its center with wooden bridges and walkways built all around it. Rope ladders and nets offer admittance and there is even a hammock to sit on. “Candace, this is amazing! This is the best park ever!”

“Why don’t you jump right in?” the woman laughs. “I’ll just be right on this bench if you need me.”

Candace points to an empty green bench as she speaks and starts heading for it before someone else claims it. Gracie calls out her agreement and makes a b-line for the nearest rope ladder. She is up it in seconds and running across a bouncy bridge, laughing all the way. She runs the whole course, turns right back around and does it again. There are quite a few kids in this part of the park, but it’s still easy to work her way around them. After a few more laps on the equipment, a small group of kids asks Gracie to play tag. She recognizes them from school and accepts.

A good hour later, two of the kids have to go home and Gracie is exhausted. She begs off, having had her mind set on playing in the sand since she and Candace got there. Plopping down in a shady spot, she plunges her hands beneath the beige and brown grains. The sand is cool and dry and feels soft in between her fingers, not like the rough sand that is sometimes used in parks. It’s like the white sand from a beach. She has half a mind to pull her shoes off and let her feet sink into its depths. Gracie closes her eyes and wiggles her fingers, feeling the sand move around them like a favorite blanket. She opens her eyes as she curls her fingers around the tiny grains and watches them slip through when she lifts her hands. 

Gracie does this again and again until she grabs a stick and begins to drag it through the sand like a plow. At one point, she makes a short trench and plants sunflower seeds and raisins from the snack baggy in her pocket. She pats the sand with satisfaction after covering them and looks toward the bench where Candace sits. She waves and her nanny waves back. Gracie giggles and gets to her knees, but stops when a figure just sitting down on the hammock suddenly blocks her view of Candace.

“What the…” Gracie mutters, her mouth falling open in disbelief. She gets to her feet and runs straight for the rope hammock and its occupant, who hears her footfalls and looks up with blue-grey eyes.

“Gracie!” Olive cries in surprise as her friend trips in the sand and drops face-first next to the hammock. “Gracie?”

“I’m okay,” the blonde girl declares, pushing herself up and standing quickly. The two girls lock eyes and start laughing. “What are you doing here?”

“We come every weekend,” Olive replies, pulling Gracie onto the woven rope. “Our flat’s just that way.”

“Really?” Gracie gasps with a delighted squeak. She points in the opposite direction. “Mine’s that way.”

“No way!” Olive shouts with glee. “That’s amazing! I had no idea we lived so close.”

“I know right,” Gracie exclaims, beginning to rock the hammock a bit. Olive unfolds her legs to hang them down and help push. “What are the odds?”

“Well,” Olive considers, adopting her contemplative face. Gracie knows instantly that a deduction is coming. She giggles and her smile widens as she watches her best friend. “Since we go to the same school, it seems fairly likely that we would live close together because it’s usually based on geography. However, it’s a bit different with public school. Kids can come from all parts of London as long as they have the money to pay.”

“Oh my god,” Gracie can barely contain her excitement and she stamps a foot on the ground a few times. “We could play here every weekend! I’m sure I could get Dad to bring me.”

“Yes! Let’s set it up now,” Olive sits up straight, ready to jump off the netting. “Is your dad here?”

“No, he had to deliver a baby,” Gracie rolls her eyes. Olive makes a dismissive noise that sounds like she just opened an air-tight container and sinks back into the hammock “Exactly. I mean, babies are important and all, but now he has to wait another week to see all this.”

Gracie swings her arms out wide and tilts her head skyward before flopping unceremoniously onto her back. Olive lets herself tip backwards as well and they soon lie side by side, looking up at the clouds. Gracie points out one that looks like a panda and proceeds to tell her friend all sorts of facts about pandas.

“I even have a panda,” she finishes.

“You do?” Olive asks, her eyes widen with wonder. 

“Since I was three,” Gracie nods. “She’s my favorite stuffie. She’s called Pandy and I sleep with her every night.”

“I have a bee,” Olive says without hesitation. “I call him Wellington, sometimes Wellies for short.”

“Do you like bees as much as your dad does?” Gracie is curious because Wellington might have been a gift like Pandy was, but it certainly sparked her interest in pandas. 

“I don’t think anyone could like them as much as Dad,” Olive huffs a laugh, “but yeah, I definitely like them too. It’s amazing how they make honey and their whole society and all.”

“Wow. Would you tell me?” Gracie fixes her with a serious gaze and licks her lips. “I loooove honey.”

“Sure, and you can tell me more about pandas,” Olive grins and points to a medium-sized cloud. “That one looks like a catapult.”

Gracie cocks a brow and follows her finger to a cloud that, amazingly enough, does resemble a rudimentary catapult.

The afternoon passes as the two girls tell each other stories and make up new games, their favorite being pirates sailing their hammock boat across the sea to a mysterious island. They leave their spot at this point to explore sandy beaches, nearly being vanquished by a giant hippo and almost losing Olive beneath quicksand. Gracie keeps her head about her and is always within Candace’s line of sight, and it’s a good thing too because the two girls are interrupted as tea time nears.

“I knew I’d find you here,” a low rumble of a voice comes from behind Gracie where she sits facing Olive. They have just dug up a treasure of sunflowers and raisins, a very valuable find on the sea. Their eyes grow wide as a menacing laugh fills the air around them. Gracie swallows hard and turns slowly to see the towering silhouette of a man in a billowy black coat. She shields her eyes, but with the sun behind him, she cannot make out his features. He probably has an eye patch and everything.

“What are you doing on my island?” the man demands as he steps closer. Gracie gasps and pushes herself backwards toward Olive to get away from the dark figure only just coming into focus.

“Hi, girls. Is everything okay?” Candace McCleary asks from the right and Gracie glances at her gratefully. Her trusty companion must have bolted from her park bench as soon as the giant appeared. Now she stands alert as though ready to pounce and Gracie breathes a sigh of relief. She hadn’t even seen this man until it was too late. Gracie grits her teeth and silently berates herself as her father’s words about being observant come to mind.

“Uhhh…” Gracie finds her voice, but it comes out as a meek croak. Meanwhile, Olive leaps up next to her and runs for the figure with open arms. Gracie gapes, sure she is about to see her friend eaten before her very eyes.

“Daddy!” Olive cries, launching herself into the man’s arms. Gracie blinks and it is like a cloud has moved from where it had covered the sun. The giant, no longer in the shadows, transforms into a tall man wearing a nice suit with no tie and a long coat. Gracie finds herself marveling at the fact that he doesn’t appear to be hot in the slightest and momentarily wonders if he has ice in his pockets, but stops all speculation when she sees his face. Angles and cheeks like Olive, dark curls and the same grey eyes that seem to change from green to blue and back. The corners of Gracie’s mouth turn up and a sense of ease washes over her.

“Is it time to go already?” Olive is speaking at a mile a minute. “We only just started playing pirates. Can Gracie come home with us? We’re having Thai for dinner. I bet she’ll like it.”

The tall man chuckles at his daughter and the sound is like a really warm blanket, soft and comfy. He glances at Candace and settles his gaze on Gracie. She bristles for a moment at those all-seeing eyes. It’s true they are like Olive’s, but much wiser. Gracie has the feeling he is learning much more from just watching her than anyone else can. She’s not entirely sure how she feels about that, but supposes it’s why Olive is so perceptive and she loves her. Besides, this is her dad. Gracie feels like she knows him already after all the stories she has heard.

“Ah, so this is the infamous Gracie,” Sherlock says surreptitiously with a look in Olive’s direction. The girl smiles broadly and nods while Gracie smiles a little timidly. His chin dips in greeting. “I’ve heard a great deal about you.”

“I know a lot about you too,” Gracie replies as she rises, finding her tenacity again.

“Of that, I have no doubt,” Sherlock answers. He turns his attention to Candace, who still looks a touch uneasy. “And this is your friend?”

“Yeah,” Gracie confirms enthusiastically. “This is Candace.”

She jumps up and grabs Olive’s hand, pulling her toward the young woman.

“And this is Olive,” she exclaims.

“Oh,” the last traces of suspicion vanish from Candace’s eyes and she gestures at the girls. “Of course. You’re Olive. Gracie has been telling me about you all week.” “And this is my dad,” Olive introduces. “Sher…”

“William,” Sherlock interrupts, offering his hand. Candace steps forward and takes it in a firm shake. “Will.”

“Nice to meet you,” Candace replies, not noticing the quizzical look on Olive’s face, but Gracie sees. She also sees Sherlock glance at his daughter and communicate something that clears the confusion from Olive’s mind in an instant. Gracie tilts her head in thought, considering this new information. She and John can do that sometimes too. It makes her that much more certain that Olive is meant to be her best friend.

“It’s quite a coincidence them meeting in the park like this,” Candace is saying when Gracie emerges from her thoughts. “Do you live around here?”

“Yes, just on Baker Street,” Sherlock answers politely, but with a tinge of the tone Olive has when she mutters that something is obvious. Gracie lets out a quick giggle.

“Oh, right,” Candace nods with a friendly smile. “That’s not far at all. Maybe we’ll see you here again.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” Sherlock looks down at the two girls, both of which are very excited. Olive is almost dancing in place and Gracie would swear she needed the toilet if she didn’t know better. “We’re here every Saturday just after lunch.”

“Perfect,” Candace says. “That’s about when we arrived. I’ll let her father know too. He’ll usually be the one who brings her.”

“He had a baby to deliver,” Gracie supplies. “He’s a doctor.”

“So Olive tells me,” Sherlock tells her with a certain mirth in his tone. “I would very much like to meet him, especially now that I’ve met you.”

“He’s wanted to all week,” Olive exclaims, giving Gracie’s hand a squeeze. “Ever since the first day.”

“I just can’t believe we ran into each other like this,” Candace declares, still a little dumbfounded.

Gracie doesn’t hear Sherlock’s response because Olive leans in close to whisper in her ear how great it will be when their fathers meet. The blonde nods her head vigorously and they laugh together quietly.

“Oh my, it’s nearly tea time,” Candace says to her watch. “I have to get her home. Are you ready, Gracie?”

“I guess so,” the girl pouts. She throws her arms around Olive in a huge hug. “I can’t wait to see you on Monday.”

Gracie gasps and looks at Olive with wide eyes, her hands still clamped around her arms.

“I’m going to write you a special note tomorrow and make a comic with my favorite markers,” she announces with glee. “They smell like strawberries and grapes and stuff.”

“Oh, wow!” Olive hoots. “I’ll make one of my maps for you.”

“It could be of this park!” Gracie shouts as Candace’s mobile sounds. She pulls it from her pocket and glances at its screen, pressing the surface to turn off the alarm.

“We really have to be going,” Candace says apologetically. “It was so nice to meet you both.”

“And you as well,” Sherlock dips his chin in farewell as Candace takes Gracie’s hand and leads her away.

“Bye, Gracie!” Olive calls, waving madly.

“Bye!” the blonde shouts back.

Olive waves for a good thirty seconds and then turns to face her father with her arms crossed over her chest. She raises a brow expectantly and Sherlock knows precisely why, but says nothing.

“Let’s go, shall we?” he begins walking toward home, knowing she will follow. “I believe Mrs. Hudson is making fresh biscuits.”

“What was that about, Dad?” Olive asks in disbelief, already matching his steps. “Why William?”

“You know I use aliases at times,” Sherlock replies without looking at her.

“Yeah, for cases, but these aren’t criminals,” Olive insists. “These are my friends.”

“I know, love,” he turns his head to see her earnest expression looking up at him. “I just don’t want to prejudice Gracie’s father.”

“What’s prejudice?” Olive furrows her brow as she repeats the word.

“Well, you know my profession can be dangerous,” Sherlock begins.

“Yeah…” Olive says slowly, eyeing him curiously.

“A lot of people know that because they see my name in the media,” he explains. “I don’t want Gracie’s father to hear my name and assume Gracie will be in danger. I’m concerned he will get the wrong impression and feel uncomfortable about you being friends.”

“Oh,” Olive says flatly as if she hadn’t considered that. They walk in silence for a moment until she speaks up again. He knew she would. She is too smart and inquisitive not to have follow-up questions. “So what are you going to do when we’ve been friends for months and it’s time to tell them your real name? Say ‘By the way, my name is really Sherlock Holmes.’?”

Sherlock gives her a withering look and says nothing. Her jaw drops and she shoves him lightly.

“Dad! You can’t NOT tell them,” Olive insists. She bends at the knees slightly to emphasize the word not. “It’s dishonest. Dad, it’s lying.”

“Sometimes we lie for the greater good,” Sherlock tells her curtly.

“Now you sound like Mycroft,” Olive sneers and that stops Sherlock dead in his tracks. He turns to face her, dropping into a squat and meeting her eyes.

“I would do anything for you, Olive,” he says sincerely, resting his hands on her shoulders. She curls the corner of her mouth and cocks a brow.

“Dad,” Olive begins matter-of-factly, “I know that and I would do anything for you too, but you told me I couldn’t lie.”

“Yes. Yes, I did,” Sherlock sighs and then continues resolutely. “You’re right. I’ll introduce myself properly when we meet Gracie’s father. Okay?”

“Okay,” Olive grins and they walk again, hand in hand.

“Olive?” Sherlock says, glancing her way. She looks up at him in answer. “Don’t compare me to Mycroft again.”

Olive lets out a quiet chortle and tightens her grip on his fingers. 

“Desperate measures,” she replies more than a little pleased with herself. Sherlock puffs a quick breath through his nose and smirks as they walk on. Like father, like daughter.

---

What the hell, Jane?? I know what you said at the beginning, but this is unfair. Gracie and Candace get to meet Sherlock, but not John?! I want the boys to meet again! NOW! So sorry, my friends, but you'll have to wait a bit longer. Worry not, it will happen. Eventually. (insert evil smile, cruel chuckle and holding of fingertips together like Mr. Burns) Love, Jane

@johnlock-rocks

[steveusesfaberge]

Particular Taste

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Harrington!Reader

Summary: Billy meets a girl who he just...can’t get over. She’s everything...and yet, good Lord - she’s so damn particular. Too bad though, cause he’s already head over heels for her...even if she’s a Harrington.

Type/Style: Imagine, Song Preference, Female Pronouns

Song Preference: Particular Taste (Shawn Mendes)

Warning(s): A bit of cursing, a bit of flirting, a bit of fluff, a bit of angst, a bit of Billy Hargrove...

Word Count: 5,500 roughly (I kinda got carried away... >.<)

a/n: I was listening to some music...and now I’ve got a million-and-one idea flooding me...ahh! Please send in requests if you so wish! I’d be happy to do them! :D (I write NSFW and if a writing piece is ever NSFW I will let you know! :))

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She don't listen to a thing - unless it feels right

Only dances when it's Kanye

He was used to girls falling for him. Tripping over their heels, each other, even air...well...because he was the Billy Hargrove. He was used to the attention; stares of longing, the glares of hatred. Either way, more to him - he had a nasty habit of feeding off of the energy of a room - the vibes bad or not, he craved it. It wasn’t Billy’s fault (a bad home life and a lack of proper understanding went a long way)...no, but he was too far in denial to admit the truth...all the truths. That he wanted only one person’s attention so badly, it kept him up at night; scowl on his lips as he thought about why. It was one of those dirty little secrets you kept to yourself because if you admitted it aloud, you’d be laughed down before you even got the chance to stand up. Billy didn’t need his reputation to crumble before him - not like this, no... He’d look like a total loser! From a casanova - to a whipped little puppy dog...

Some girls were a run for his money. But her? Y/N? No, she was a run for his whole damn life. Hell, he still thinks about the first time he met her. He remembers what he felt, what she said, how she smelt, and even the exact degree his stomach was doing flips at. Did he show it? Hell no.

“Hey, pretty lady, I caught that look across the room...decided to come over.” He’d been so confident in himself. He did admit though, that when he first saw her, it didn’t mean a damn thing to him...he didn’t think it would be any different from another one-night stand. Oh, was he wrong...

“Me? Pfft, must’ve been lookin’ the wrong way,” her gaze traveled along his figure in the most unnerving way. He swore cold chills shot down his spine like a ghost brushed by him. The way her eyes scanned him; as if searching for intimations of intentions and sharp edges... God, he felt naked in front of you...and never had he been so embarrassed to be bare in front of someone.

“I didn’t even see you.” It felt like a jab to his side, and he had to physically restrain himself from tumbling backward at the force of disinterest in her tone. He could place it she was playing hard to get - but this...was different. She seemed genuinely uninterested in him.

Her hair had been done - pinned back with a few stray strands loose; falling before her eyes to frame her face perfectly. She seemed to be wearing little to no makeup - Hargrove coming to the conclusion that she was just naturally this stunning. It wasn’t like she was wearing anything too flashy either; a simple knee-length dress that any good father would approve - a pale blue coloring and simple flats to match. Definitely, not what he usually settled for... Yet...he was itching to figure out this oddity...

“See me? Honey, your eyes never left me,” he had crossed his arms, leaning towards her - lips so close, yet so far. She hadn’t even flinched. Not a blush, or a shy look away. Challenging his gaze, she’d pushed him back by his chest.

“Well, maybe if your ego weren’t so big - you’d realize I was looking behind you.” a smirk played on her lips and her chin jutted up slightly as to indicate she was still looking there. He rolled his eyes, his mouth finding the words on their own.

“And who would be so graced to have your attention, Princess?” He questioned lightly.

“Not you.” With that, she stepped past him, not even giving him a second glance. His jaw fallen slack as he cranked his neck to watch her walk away. Damn those hips. The stranger had come and gone faster than his own snarky breath - and yet, she seemed to take it with her...his lungs desperate for air she was not willing to share...

“What?” He mumbled to himself as he watched her glide across the party to Steve Harrington. He rolled his eyes, biting his cheek as he debated going over and just knocking the kid’s block off...Would it be wrong of him? No one ever said it was wrong to get rid of the competition before the game even started...right?

She stood there, seeming to question him - as her arms were crossed, she had a brow raised and she didn’t seem....very happy. Not even a flirtatious glance to the rival brunette. It made Billy tilt his head in confusion. If she didn’t want to bed him...and she didn’t want to bed Harrington...who the fuck did you want to bed?

He watched Steve sigh, rolling his eyes, mouth opening to respond - stopping when Prince’s When Doves Cry rolled in and pumped through the room. A smirk fallen on the boy’s lips as he grabbed your hand and shoved you to the dance floor with him.

“C’mon! I know you only dance to Prince - can’t we stay for one more song?” Harrington urged, accompanied by some janky dance moves Billy was sure his dog taught him. Hargrove watched the interaction further, leaning to the wall were she previously stood. Curious of the y/h/c haired beaut’s reaction.

“Ugh. Fine! One more song, Steve - but mom told us to be home before one...you were the reason she even gave us a curfew - if you hadn’t--,” Harrington shut her up with a finger to her lip, him screaming the chorus of the song horribly to follow. Billy winced, but she seemed entertained.

He was surprised to watch her join him, her dance moves...just as bad as Harrington’s - yet, it didn’t explain why his eyes never left her. It looked like dances were being traded back and forth; almost like a dance battle of sorts.

Then it hit him. Like a ton of bricks, and still, it brought relief with him. Steve was her brother. The pair of Harringtons left shortly after the song ended; Steve whining like a child as his (assumed) sister drug him behind by his drunken collar.

On the way out the door, his eyes found hers and she only spared him a second. Not a smile, not a wink, not even a frown...and she was gone. He wanted to run after her - and yell, scream, shout...and when she asked what’s gotten in your pants? He would’ve frowned, complaining that it wasn’t fair you took his breath away, his heart, and didn’t even repay him...he had a feeling - even if he did that - she’d still not give one damn about it. Finders, keepers...

She can take you one-on-one if she feels like

You'll be begging her for mercy, mercy

“Please! C’mon, just one--,” “No, Billy. I said no earlier, and I’ll say it again.” “But you didn’t even give me a cha--,” “I don’t need to. I’ve seen how you treat girls; forget that - I’ve seen how you treat your own sister! I said no. Besides. My brother would never approve of you.”

Billy had never, not ever - pleaded for someone like this. He’d been annoyed before, but after a few attempts - he’d let it go - settling for nasty looks across the halls and lude comments with a smirk. She was different... Y/N Harrington had this fire that was so dangerous - even he was scared he’d get burnt. Yet, it didn’t stop him from trying...over...and over...and over...like a moth drawn to an open flame...he flew blindly.

She had called him out; time and time again - like it was a hobby of hers. Not even caring she spoke so rashy to him - Billy Hargrove. Did that mean nothing to Y/N? His name should strike fear in your heart, and jelly to your knees...yet, she had not a single reaction other than an eye-roll, a scoff, and a snappy remark.

He wondered if it was because of this - he couldn’t help but pine after her... She wasn’t afraid to tell him he was an ass...she wasn’t afraid to stand up for herself...she wasn’t afraid of the peer pressure of being in his presence...she wasn’t....afraid of him. She was definitely Steve’s sister....they shared a stubbornness that Billy had grown to hate - and now, admire.

“What do you want me to do, huh?” He’d finally stressed. Hands tearing at his dirty-blond locks. Eyes wide and exhausted after days, weeks, months of brooding, pestering, flirting, arguing...all for one measly date. He’d never been so hooked on someone before - and the longer he spent after her, the more he wanted her. The more he fell for her...but he didn’t say that. He’d never say that because Billy Hargrove wasn’t a one-woman-type of guy...right?

She had been busy trying to get home - basketball practice was over almost ten minutes ago and Steve was probably waiting for her. He’d be wondering where she was by now... And catching Billy as he wandered out of the lockerroom was not exactly planned.

But...this display - oh, good Lord, this display...of a man before her. Billy looked like a mess - a desperate, hot, mess. She’d heard through the grapevine Hargrove hadn’t been his usual sleazy self. Hadn’t bedded a girl in months. Wonder why...the answer was stood before her; in the form of a tall, muscular drink of daddy issues.

“On your knees.” Was all she said, arms holding a textbook to her chest (it was actually Steve’s - the dumbass always forgot it and ended up stashing it in her locker).

“Excuse me?” Billy grumbled while watching her with a biting tone.

“You heard me, Billy. On.Your. Knees.”

He hesitated. She questioned if he’d really do it. There were heartbeats of silence between them before she practically heard his eye roll - his knees bending - having his towering height fall down to her abdomen.

“Okay?” He hissed with the same annoyance as if he were the one being held behind and hadn’t stopped her from going home...

She snorted.

“Beg.” Was all she said, a grin on her lips as she drank in his state of shock.

He was quiet for a passing minute before his eyes furrowed in irritation. “I don’t beg - Billy Hargrove - doesn’t beg, Harrington.” He snarled as if she’d struck him down. And she had; with her extremely intoxicating scent...was that vanilla? He didn’t know...the one thing he could pick out, was the familiar waft of...something...he’d picked it up on Steve before, but on her? It confused him slightly (little did he know it was the hairspray you both used...Faberge did wonders, what could you say?).

“Helloooo, I’m waiting, Billy.” He could only process that he loved the way she said his name...his daze too strong.

“Goodbye -- my brother--,”

“Please, please, please,” he started quickly as he realized her body was now turned to leave.

His hands shot out and he grabbed her free one. It hung loosely had her side, the other occupied with a forgotten textbook. He pulled her knuckles to his lips, pressing soft kisses there as he watched Y/N, never breaking eye contact. The blue orbs swirling with a desperation she’d never seen before; emotions she’d would never pin Hargrove to ever harbor. She’d be lying if she said a blush wasn't being fought down.

“Goddamnit, please...Y/N...I’m...I’m begging you...begging...you...for...just,” he struggled to find it in him to be so...low...but Y/N’s coy smile egged him on in all the wrong ways.

“One date. If you don’t like it - I’ll leave you alone....probably.”

She hadn’t even answered him. Her heels turning as she marched her way to the side exit. He felt like she’d punched him in the face; his features lighting pink at what she’d made him do without even a second thought. He...was...he was angry...he was frustrated...oh, God, he was gonna---

“Friday night. You better be there at eight o’clock sharp, and if you’re a minute late I’ll never speak to you again. If you’re a minute early, I’ll still not talk to you because you’ll come off clingy.” Those words, as strict as they were - were heaven on earth. Billy scrambled to his feet and nodded, though she couldn’t see him. “Yeah, yeah...alright! Sounds good!” Lame.

“Oh, and Billy?” Y/N had his heart stop as she turned for a final time, back pushing the hallway door open to reveal a glimpse of Steve’s red BMW.

“If you smoke in front of my mom, or pick a fight with my brother - I’ll kill you myself.” Ouch. But there was no other way he’d want to die...

Ooh, she'll take your name and number

Then she'll hit erase and walk away

But ooh, is she so specific when she's at my place

At my place

“Right on time, I see.” Y/N teased while walking down the driveway to him. Billy had his signature denim jacket on, a white button-up adorning his chest; the first four buttons were undone to show off his collarbone and toned torso. He had a toothpick hanging out the corner of his lips and he had a casual air about him. Little did she know - Billy was riding a wave of ecstasy that he was sure he’d never live down.

“Of course, as per request, Princess.” He replied while waiting patiently for Y/N to take her sweet time coming over. The passenger door opening and closing with a soft thud.

“Steve’s okay with you going out with me?” He asked while watching Y/N buckle up.

“No. I didn’t tell him.” She explained simply.

“Oh, lying to your big brother now, are we?” Billy purred, shifting to face him, a charming smile on his handsome features.

“I don’t lie to anyone. He didn’t ask. So, I didn’t tell.” She explained while finally giving in, finally breaking, and finally returning her own pretty grin. God, his heart melted.

“I wish to be back before twelve, Billy.” Setting the standard, she raised a brow at him - as if asking can you handle that by yourself?

“Hey! Don’t look at me like that, it’s whatever the Princess wants!” He shrugged. Four hours with Y/N was enough for him - four minutes of her time had him begging..hands and knees...literally... He figured he could do a lot with four hours.

Billy wasn’t used to this kind of treatment. She acted as if he was just...some guy. Just someone she was seeing for (exactly) four hours, to have a bit of fun, and getting to know him. There was no - shy attitude, or stuttering, or even a race to his bedroom. Y/N treated him like he was...a friend. If that’s the word for it because he’d never been in a situation where he was the one lost for words.

Y/N hadn’t done anything special. Her hair was the same as always, she wore a simple T-shirt and jeans...not to mention, the classic Chuck Taylors on her feet. Y/N was just pulling her hair into a messy ponytail - when Billy stopped her.

“What?” She asked without missing a beat. Two things crossing her as she watched him. He hadn’t even pulled out of the drive yet, and now, he was tugging at her sleeve...

He kicked himself for reacting on impulse. He seemed so...awkward. C’mon man, get yourself together! You should've been smoother....calm the fuck down...damn...

“I like your hair down.” He stated while giving a the quip of a gentle smile.

Her lips curled up and she sighed, but let her hair fall back down. “Fine...since you are taking me out.”

It wasn’t anything special either - but, it was...it really was. He’d gone to the nearest convenient store before coming to the Harrington house. Loaded up on cheap pop and candy - he was hoping to make this worth her while. He found out that she’d been on dates before - not many - but enough to be known as the type to break your heart in a matter of seconds because - well...if you weren’t willing to meet her standards...to hell with you! He liked the challenge. He’d never been with a girl who wasn’t easy before...if anything, Y/N felt like the boss level in one of those stupid arcade games Max played (meaning he’d have to spend an arm and a leg to get Y/N to realize he was serious about winning).

“Hm? Movies?” She asked curiously as she noticed all the items he’d stocked up on.

“Nah - I figured it was too...basic. Y’know? I do only have four hours to wow you...I didn’t think an hour and a half movie, without us really talking, and sitting in the dark, would do the trick.” Good...he wasn’t saying something stupid at least...was his swagger coming back?

“Hmm, I like the way you think, Billy.” Her words falling with a soft hum.

He’d driven Y/N to a spot he’d never taken anyone - not the girl he couldn’t remember the name of, that he slept with three months ago, not the girl he snagged while riding around...etc....this...was a spot only he knew about.

His place - as he’d come to call it. He went here when his own mind was berating, irritating, and draining himself. He went here when he just needed to be...alone. Though, this type of alone...was different from the type he normally felt.

“You like the view?” He asked sincerely while popping the seal of a coke. He had previously given her his jacket, out of courtesy - as it was a little chilly...Y/N had giggled and taken it. One point to Hargrove; zip to a bad date.

“Do I like the view? Yes!” She sputtered while looking over the little town of Hawkins. “Do you come here often for a first date?” Y/N asked with a soft suspicion. She was now seated on the hood of his car, the Camaro piquing her interest lightly (it seemed it was the only thing Hargrove cared about besides his own reflection).

Billy slowly pulled the can down from his lips and shook his head.

“In all honesty, I’ve never been on a...first date. Officially.” He shrugged at her dramatic gasp of shock.

“How? -- You mean to say--,” she trailed off with a bottle of excitement ready to burst.

“I’m Billy Hargrove’s first!” She was now laughing with such life, and vigor, he wondered where the sassy little beast he’d been courting, went... He liked this side of her. Billy felt like he was privileged enough to tame her to...this.

It reminded him of a child. He was then, also reminded of how much time the Harrington duo seemed to spend with Max and her crew of misfits...maybe that’s where she got it from. Billy had never really minded (or liked) kids...but he’d take a dose of whatever the hell Y/N was on, any day.

He chuckled, shaking his head, feeling a wave of heat find his face (a very uncomfortable and unusual feeling for him). He had never been...embarrassed before. Not like this.

“My very first. I was saving it for someone special,” he played along with her, without realizing what he was really saying.

“Special? Pfft, where did that bad boy Billy Hargrove go? I...I’m not saying I want him back - but I’m questioning what you did to shut him up.”

That night was one to remember. Nothing happened...well, not what Billy normally did with girls at ten o’clock at night. Conversation had never before flown so easily. It was like, Y/N knew exactly what she wanted to say, when to say it, and how to say it. Billy could, in all honestly, listen to her talk for hours on end (four to be exact). The stars were a nice background - he found they twinkled like her own smile - her eyes shining with the same bright joy.

“Why did you try so hard...for...this?” Y/N asked suddenly, after calming from a joke he’d spewed dorkily. She wondered what was so special about four short hours with a girl like her.

“Hm?” He was resting back, watching the stars wink at one another, connecting mindless dots for infinity, while he’d listened to her beautiful laughter.

“I mean,” she started while leaning on her side to face him. “What reason did you have for...you know...even taking an...I dunno, interest? Yeah, interest - in me...,” he was floored. He’d never seen Y/N like this....was she....being shy? Bashful, even? He was pulled to attention immediately, never once, in the months of painful flirting - had she ever done this. “I mean...I’m...not very approachable - I know I can be stubborn...but I’m a Harrington -- and-d, and I’m a Harrington! Why in the hell, would you want me?” She suddenly asked with a somewhat reproving tone - finger pushing into his chest.

“Hey, hey, calm down, spitfire,” he mused while enjoying the show of the faintest of pinks on her face.

“I...I dunno. If I’m being honest,” he told truthfully.

“Oh,” she breathed.

“I mean...yeah, I kinda have a reason. But...it’s dumb. Y’know?” He said with a rushed tone.

Y/N just watched him. Clearly not knowing.

“What I meant was,” he started over while still trying to sound as nonchalant and cool as possible,” You’re...different. You know? Like...a cool...different...like someone I’d actually...I dunno...wanna be around.”

That night, was certainly one to remember. It was also, one of many...many stargazing, soda drinking, junk-food eating, late-night talks... Billy felt like he’d found something special. He felt like he’d found himself a little star, maybe it was supposed to be on its way across the galaxy - wowing someone else...but...like the human being he proved to be - he was greedy. So, Billy kept it. He kept the star close to him because he found, that when it stood beside him - it had a light that shone so bright...it drowned out his dark edges and the cloudiness of his life. He found with her, Y/N...everything...felt...right.

Never pickin' up her phone 'less it rings twice

Only answers with a question, mhh

Ring, ring--

“What?” He chuckled at her answer. It was always...what?

“I’m here - your loving, kind, caring, boyfriend - and all you ever say - is what when I call you - asking if your free tonight...” He pouted while holding the phone between his chin and shoulder, the cord hanging as he leaned down to shove his foot into his boot.

“Mhm,” Y/N responded while looking done at her filed to perfection nails.

“You’re so difficult,” he groaned while switching the phone to his other ear, moving to put his other shoe on.

“I’ve been told a few times before,” he could hear her grin. A small one on his own lips playing along.

“You gonna watch the kids tonight?” He asked remembering Max asking for a ride roughly an hour ago. He’d only agreed to take her because he knew a certain Harrington was going to be watching them (no, he wasn’t talking about The Hair Harrington).

“No, Steve said he’d take them to the movies - and I’m not interested in seeing Star Wars rewinds,” of course she’d seen them - he had learned over the three months spent with Y/N (officially as a couple - as she refused to allow him to count the three and a half months he’d spent trailing after her), that she was quite the little nerd. No wonder Max liked Y/N so much...and if he weren’t mistaken, he’d seen Henderson make googly eyes...

“So - you’re free then?” He inquired while grabbing his car keys, swinging the keychain on his pointer while he debated just hanging up now and driving over without another word.

“Hm. I suppose - but--,” the line went dead and Y/N glared at the speaker with a harsh accusation.

It seemed Billy’s eagerness to be in your warming presence had won over...the phone was hanging in its place once more - and he called for Max to go as he headed out the door, at a brisk, happy pace.

And if I try to play it cool, it never goes right

Got me drownin', drownin', uh

“Hey, Y/N/N!” The redhead greeted as Y/N opened the front door, smiling.

“Hey, Maxie! The rest of the gang is in the living room with Steve! Have a good time tonight, throw some popcorn at Lucas for me.” Her eyes were mischevious, but she seemed confused as the older girl spoke.

“You’re not coming?” “No, sorry, kiddo. Billy asked if I wanted to go out for a drive...he’s rather needy, really,” Y/N teased.

“Oh...well, he’s been awfully nice since he started seeing you.”

An eyebrow was raised in response, a glance to the Camaro in the driveway was shot to only catch Hargrove’s gaze.

“Oh, really?” “Mhm! He volunteers to take me places, and he’s not as mean. Like, I caught him humming to himself the other day when he was walking to his room...like...what was that about?” Max revealed while smirking like a devil.

“Your brother’s something, ain’t he?” Y/N noted while biting her lip, holding back a spew of words about how much of a softie he was when they were alone....like a puppy! She wanted to utter, but knowing his temper and his reputation - Y/N stayed quiet.

“I’ll say.” Max snorted. “I’m glad you like him. You’re good for him.”

Y/N grinned at the girl, ruffling her hair.

“I dunno about good, but he certainly can shape up, huh?”

Billy was getting nervous. The quick glances in his direction, the way Y/N seemed so smug and mighty...God, what did Max say? He felt his hands begin to sweat and he started scolding himself. What the hell, Hargrove? Don’t lose it now, no, no, no! She’ll know! She’ll see it! Goddamnit - she’ll fucking smell it! Like a bloodhound, she is! Blue eyes dug into you skeptically. No, bloodhound is too nice for her...she’s...she’s like a wolf! Yeah, that’s it! A damn beast - that’s after me and my blood! She’s already got my heart...what else does she-

“Asshole, unlock the car door,” Y/N’s singsong voice cut into his silent monologue. He jumped at the wheel and clumsily fumbled for the said lock. “Dork,” he heard her mumble with a snicker.

Well, there goes any and all good name of being cool...

Since she’d let him call her his - it’d been worse than any fistfight he’d ever managed. From Y/N’s own challenging, fiery attitude - to Steve’s - he wasn’t sure which Harrington he was actually dating. Her brother was always breathing down his neck, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about socking the kid in the jaw before...but he knew Y/N would not approve so he made sure to be on his...best, best behavior in the brunette’s proximity. Walking, talking, can of hairspray he was...

How she achieved in getting Harrington’s approval - Billy would never know. Though, Steve made it clear it wasn’t ‘approval’ more so - allowance... He’d said, Remember Hargrove. You mess up, even once, and I can take everything away from you. I’m not giving you permission to be with her. I’m allowing it. So you fuck up - and I take that allowance away, hear me? Billy had wanted to wring his neck, but Y/N’d been a few feet away and he’d rather not fight with her over his own pride... Yeah, yeah, whatever man. I’m a man of my word, Harrington. No need to shove your hand down my throat.

Normally, if someone ever talked to him like that - or eve thought about it - Hargrove would’ve had them pinned to a wall and beat to a pulp before they could speak another word. This time...was different (though it seemed to Billy, every time with Y/N was different). He felt like...he was drowning. It sounded odd, but, the best kind of...well...oxygen being brutally cut off from his lungs kind of drowning.

He would do anything for her...he found out through the little ways she showed herself. Touching her chin when playfully thinking, biting her lip in real concentration, tapping his shoulder when she wanted his attention, looking down when unsure, wearing her hair down because he liked it, smiling when he kissed her forehead, booping his nose because it annoyed him (in reality, he loved that she did such a silly, small thing).

Billy Hargrove was drowning. Drowning in the immense amount of love he was showered in...the care and affection Y/N bathed him in every time she smiled at him, or in his general direction. He found out he was quite similar to the schoolgirls who fawned when he walked into the room... Who would’ve known? Sure, at school he kept that hardass impress up. Being flirty with her and even throwing a wink to the passerby...picking a fight with whoever doubted him and making sure to have everyone on their toes in his presence..but even then, he changed...

Y/N found Billy flirted with her specifically to make her laugh. Chessy pick-up lines, dumb quotes, obsessive pecks and coddling in the middle of the halls. A rose or two in her locker...a love letter slipped in a textbook...he was classy. When she asked him about it, he simply shrugged. I thought you liked that kind of thing? You know, trashy notes and dying plants. Y/N knew though, that was simply Billy’s way of saying - you’re my girl...and I don’t care if you’re already mine...I’ll flirt with you anyway because I love you that much...

He also didn’t go farther than a five-second conversation with others. Normally, he’d have all the girls on their knees as he passed...but with Y/N on his arm, a simple smirk and wink would do just as well. They’re staring at you. I don’t like it. Billy had one day groaned in a whisper to Y/N, eyeing down a few glares. She only shook her head, biting her lip and looking away. In truth, everyone was looking at him. Billy Hargrove with a girl? For more than a night? Billy Hargrove denying a booty-call? Billy Hargrove no longer a ladies’ man? Billy Hargrove the jerk who likes fighting so quiet? Billy Hargrove the new King of high school? Billy Har-- the eyes were for him... Sure, she was a Harrington - so some looked in curiosity...knowing the infamous distaste between the two...but...eventually, the eyes traveled to the hunk of a man that Billy was.

Then, there were the fights. Sure, Billy tried his hand at anyone who blinked too many times at him - or decided to exhale at the same time as him - but since Y/N... the boy was always drug out of the ring before any damage was done, or before it got real bad... But Y/--! I said no, Billy. And he didn’t argue. If someone was brave enough to ask, he’d honestly answer them - which shocked them more than the answer itself. You see that woman? God -- you’d be scared to deny her too...damn Harringtons...

She asked him about all that once when they were sitting on the hood of his car, sharing a bag of chocolates (without peanuts - Billy had found she didn’t like picking them out of her teeth). “Well,” he’d started while leaning back, playing with her hair, her head rested in his lap, using his jacket that smelt of cologne, ash, and love as a blanket. “Why...do you ask?”

“You...you changed so much...-- but in a good way! I mean, I’m just surprised...like...I think even Steve is coming around..slowly..but...he’s surprised nonetheless that you’re so...different. Y’know?” Y/N had explained, quite poorly if you asked Billy. Yet, nonetheless, from getting to know her throughout the six or so months...he’d found she always got a bit flush when talking real with him. Or anyone for that matter. To him, it was perfectly flawed - because it showed how genuine she was trying to be.

“Y/N/N...you’re just...particular,” he tried slowly. The night cushioning the silence with sounds of crickets and a lull of wind.

“Whaddya mean, love?” He sighed silently, loving the way she spoke the endearing nickname with such ease.

“I mean...I learned early on...like....maybe the first night we met - that you....just....had a particular taste.” He expressed gently.

“And I was determined to be that kinda drink for you...even if it meant swapping a few rough edges.” He continued with a soft hum.

“Why, Billy?” He always forgot to mention that he loved the way she spoke his name.

“Because Y/N, you’re worth everything in this goddamn world...I’m just happy I’m exactly what you look for...even if you’ve got such a damn specific taste.” He chuckled with a laugh, his eyes twinkling like stars.

Leaning up, she reached to share a kiss with him, and he swore then and there - if she asked, he’d give her every ounce of life, passion, and love...give it all up...all she had to do was say the word.

“I think, you described it as a particular taste, Billy.”

“Very particular, darling.”

She's so particular

I'm so obsessed with her

Yeah, she's so particular

I'm so obsessed with her

Yeah, she's so particular.

She just goes

Yeah, she's got particular taste.

----

a/n: Welll, how do you like it? I enjoyed writing it! It was soooooo cute to write! Gahh! Requests are OPEN! :)

[elejahfanfic]

Hello Love/3

Fanfiction

Part 3

Pairing: Miguel Galindo x Elena Gilbert

a tvd crossover AU story

ft. Klaroline

a/n: well, here is another fluffy fanfiction crossover story. This time all human. Since I am a huge fan of the vampire diaries - kind of always do crossovers with them.

As of recent I really started to like the character of Nick Amaro from Law&Order_svu, played by Danny Pino. I also love him as Miguel Galindo in Mayans MC… and so, in this story - paired with Elena Gilbert, of course, my favourite female character.

I hope you like it. Thanks for reading. xoxo

tag_ @miguelsbrat​

✯⸜(*❛‿❛)⸝✯

Miguel and Klaus were whisked away by their mother to greet some of their old friends.

Elena was now left with Caroline taking another cocktail.

"This is not a bad party at all!" Caroline stated. "It looks like you are rebounding fast?!"

"What do you mean?" Elena looked at her friend now.

"Oh, I saw the way you looked at Miguel - he is tall, dark and handsome! Maybe a bit stuffy, but not bad at all!!"

"Caroline, stop it. I am not interested. He is a nice guy - and we just had a polite talk."

"All right. I am not going to push it. Rebekah said that he wrapped himslef up in an untouchable cacoon. He has not dated anyone since his wife died.”

“Oh” Elena exclaimed softly looking in the direction of Miguel. But as Stefan joined them, she now turned to the man.

"You guys seen Yemaya?!" Stefan asked.

"Yeah," Elena said, "I think she went into the garden.Stefan thanked them and went to look for her.

"What shall we do?" Caroline said to her friend,"help them, not help them?"

"I think that we shouldn't meddle. I think Yemaya will realize that it would be stupid to let someone like Stefan walk." Elena replied.

"Oh, no. Damon is coming this way."

Caroline saw that he was now approaching them.

Sooner or later, Elena knew that they would have to face one another and as he came to them she kind of went the way to the garden and he followed her.

Caroline now looked for Rebekah.

"Elena, will you stop?!" Damon said grabbing her by the arm.

"What is it?" Elena’s chocolate eyes blazed at her ex.

"I want to talk to you."

"What about?"

"I made a mistake-but I love you!"

Elena inhaled deeply, annoyed."You don't love me- if you loved me you would never had slept with Krystal! And to tell you the truth - I think that you did me a favour. And - actually it made me realize that there was no real love between us anyway - it was just this toxic"

Before she managed to finish the sentence, he pulled her to him and kissed her.

Elena pulled away, sifting angrily at him,"Don''t ever do this again! Leave me alone!"

“Come on - she doesn’t mean anything to me - you know that - it was just - a stupid glitch.”

“We are over. And I don’t want to talk to you, see you or know anything about you!” Elena ripped away from Damon’s arms, trying to fight her tears, running out of the garden into the house.

“Are you all right?” Miguel asked as he nearly crashed with the brunette coming from the side room.

“Yes. Where is the bathroom, please?”

“Upstairs. Let me show you. This is a big house” Miguel led the way.

“Thank you.” Elena said, feeling much calmer already.

“There” Miguel gestured to the guest bathroom.

Elena entered and now washed her hands, and sat down on the rim of the tub.

“Are you all right?” Miguel knocked at the door. “I don’t want to bother you, but you were not looking well...and I’m a doctor - so”

Elena now opened the door. “I’m fine - I just forgot to eat today - and had the champagne and just felt a bit queasy.”

“You are a little bit pale. Let me get you a sandwich - the hors d’oeuvres are not sufficient.” Miguel offered.

“Thank you. But I think that I am going to go home. I got up at 5 as I had an order to finish and I’m really tired.” Elena said.

“All right. Shall I call you a cab?”

“Yes, please.”

***

A few days later

Mikaelson Mansion

"I saw you having a good time talking to Elena!?" Rebekah remarked teasing Miguel slightly.

"She is a nice person" Miguel replied.

"Ah,Elena?! Really?!" Kol said. "Isn’t she with Damon Salvatore."

"As usual you don't know anything Kol," Rebekah said, "didn't Bonnie tell you that they broke up!"

Miguel listened attentively, but kept quiet.

“I think she mentioned something. Yeah - the other night she spent hours on the phone with her.”

“It was a bad break up. Damon cheated - nothing new. She kicked him to the curb. She is the sweetest soul and deserves a good guy. Like you Miguel.”

“Here you are - blantanly matchmaking” Kol said.

“And so what? I don’t see you complaining - and Miguel also deserve a happy ever after.”

“I’m here” Miguel now said.

“Yeah - sorry. I don’t want to be insensitive - but, seriously. You seem to like her. Ask her out. Have dinner. Maybe things will happen. Maybe they don’t, but there is no harm in trying.” Rebekah said.

“You’re right,” Miguel said, “but it has been a long time since I’ve done  anything like that. And she has just broken up with her boyfriend, so I don’t think it is really appropriate to ask her out.”

Before Rebekah could continue, Esther entered the room, pulling him away.

“I would like to do something special for Cristobal’s birthday” the woman said to Miguel as they walked into the drawing room.

"Thank you, mother. That would be wonderful."

“You have both adjusted well. I am really happy that you decided to return living here.”

“Cristobal needs to have a sense of family - I should have came back years ago.” Miguel said.

“Henrik and him are getting along so well - you have done a great job with him.”

“Not without the great help of Senora Vega - she did most of the work.” Miguel pointed out.

“She is a marvelous woman. I don’t know why she declined the invitation to the party.”

“She doesn’t like big gatherings like these.”Miguel replied.

“I will invited her for tea some time. Right. I will cooridinate the birhtday party with Cristobal then - I’ve learned from Henrik, that it is not wise to take things in one’s own hands.” Esther said.

“He is very particular about what he likes and dislikes.”

“Weren’t you all?” Esther cocked an eyebrow, referring to all of her children, him included. They all were a handful, each with an ego, and very demanding personalities.

“We were” Miguel curled a smile remembering the chaos that reigned in the house when they were kids.

“Ah, I miss those days,” Esther said, “the house is too quiet now. It’s just us and Henrik. You all have moved out and - I truly wish I had more grandchildren.”

“It will come.”

“I don’t know. Same as you, Kol is too immersed in his work at the hospital, even though he is been with Bonnie for a while now. And don’t start me on Rebekah - she is like her father, dedicated to the magazine, and Klaus - you know - “

“Yes - no stabile relationship at all.”

“Exactly. But I am greateful that all of you are fine. And I hope sincerely that you will find someone, too.”

“I don’t know - no one is “

“like Emily, I know. Come on, dinner is about to be served.”

***

The next few days everyone was busy with their work and they mostly talking to one another over the phone.

Elena had locked herself in the bakery working from morning till evening. She was preparing herself for a cookie fair and so she concentrate on it only.The only person she would see was Caroline, who would come to the shop.They had dicussed Damon only once, and Elena didn't want to hear his name or anything about him.

"He can disappear into another dimension as far as I am cocerned!," was the last thing on that subject matter, "I got my work...and I mean it... I want to open another shop... And it will be cupcakes... I have a whole load of new recipes and designs and I want you to draw up a contract, and I want you to go with me and see some potential shops." Elena said to her friend.

"Yes. I will. I know that men are off subject-but- I am going out for dinner with Klaus!" Caroline then said.

"You really work fast!"

"It's a dinner. I just want to get to know him,"Caroline stated,"Now you kept quiet about meeting Miguel before the cocktail party?!"

"It was nothing. I guy who bought me a cup of coffee,and then it  happens to be Rebekah's brother. He is nice."

"He is nice?!" Caroline repeated,"Right- and?"

"Nothing. He is nice. I have told you. I don't want to date. And why would he asked me out- according to Rebekah, he is only about work!"

"Says she who is at work all the time," Caroline referred now to Elena, "you liked him, didn't you?!"

Elena knew that her friend was relentless.

"He is good looking. Different- but didn't you say that he is a widower."

"So what? Why does that matter?!"

"It doesn't."

"Well, he must have loved her very much cos, Rebekah said that he didn't have anyone since"

"Really?" Elena was surprised.

"It's kind of romantic," Caroline then said,"To find that one love."

"Yeah, the one that is always and forever!" Elena said dreamily and then snapped out of it, "I have a great idea for a cup cake range with that name, actually two. One can be always  and the other one forever- two of a kind!"

"Make it really tasty!" Caroline said. "I will see you later!"

The door swung open and both women now made a half sigh looking at the man that was approching them.

Miguel. Elena bit a gulp back and tried hard not to keep her calm.

Caroline looked at Elena and Miguel exchanging a small non verbal gaze. There was a spark, she could swear. “Right. I have to go. Nice seeing you again, Miguel.”

Miguel nodded a little at the blonde, who turned on her heel, nudging a smile at Elena. Girl, he is not here for the cookies. Waving a little at her friend she exited the bakery.

“This is a charming place.” Miguel complimented the place that was a cross of a modern and old, very cozy and welcoming.

“Thank you.” Elena smiled pleased.

“I would like a box of mixed cookies - a bit of everything. It is for my housekeeper.” Miguel said.

“All right. I will put something together.”

“Can I have a Latte?”

“Yes, of course. Would you like to try these new cookies?”

“Yes, I’d love to.” Miguel said and as Elena took the plate, he read the name, "Aztec fire - is there chilli inside?"

“Yes. It’s a new recipe. I always try to bring out something new. I’ve got cookies from all over the world. We alternate it. My great grandmother was from Bulgaria and I got her recipe book when I was ten. Here are some of her favourites, called Medenki. They are made with honey.”

“I’d like to try those, too.” Miguel said.

“Ok. If you’d like to sit down. I’ll bring the coffee and the cookies over to you.”

Miguel nodded and now found a table by the window.

As she served him the hot drink and the cookies, they both turned their attention to the door.

“Ah, great mind think alike.” Rebekah said as she now came up to them. “Latte for me, too. And can I have the triple chocolate cookie and Nutella to dip. I had one of those days - “

“Of course. Coming right up” Elena said, leaving them to for a moment. As she returned, Rebekah asked her to sit with them for a little while, laying out all that had happened at work and their rival magazine stealing one of the stylist and a writer.

Both Miguel and Elena tried their best to calm the fiery blonde down. But they both knew that it was the hardest job, especially when she clearly was on the warpath.

“I’m sorry, I totally ruined this -”

“No, you didn’t.” Elena reassued her friend.

“Can you pack me a few more of these cookies. I think that I will need this tonight.”

“Sure” Elena said and now went to the counter to finish Miguel’s order as well.

"Ok-tomorrow lunch and I am not taking a no for an answer!" Rebekah said  paying for the cookies and the coffees, as she felt guilty for taking up their time talking about a problem at work. Giving her friend  one of those air kisses on the cheek and was out of the door. Miguel nodded a little bye to Elena and followed his sister.

"Damon, who?!" Elena muttered looking at Miguel and Rebekah discussing something before they each went their separate ways.

***

Elsewhere

Caroline wanted to dress to impress, and so she tried out tones of dresses and she wasn't happy with any of them. Then she finally chose an unusual green little number.

"It's only a dinner" the blonde muttered to herself as if it wasn't of any particular significance.

The door bell rang and she looked at the clock. It was seven and he was on time.

When she opened it, he charmingly smiled at her presenting her with an extravagant mixed ranunculus flower bouqet.

"Thank you" she took the bouquet trying not blush as he said that he wasn't really sure what her favourite flowers were but he was convinced that these were the most romantic ones.

"I -never really thought about flowers"

"Law and words are more interesting, I suppose!" Klaus said.

"I do girly stuff, too."

"Oh- I have heard of your gatherings"

"Rebekah!" Caroline exclaimed softly.

"I admit I used my sister to get a few pointers- for this evening-your favourite restaurant is Danielle's-and they serve french and creole food."

"So I guess we have a table reservations there?!" Caroline said her eyes sparkling at him.

"Indeed we have. Please" he stretched his arm out to her. She closed the door behind them and they went out into the night.

***

Meanwhile

Miguel presented the box with the cookies to Senora Vega.

“What is this?”

“This is a little thank you - for everyhing you are doing for us.”

“You have just given me another raise - it is more than enough.” the housekeeper said.

“It is never enough. You gave your life to us, and I cannot repay this with anything.”

“You know that I do not care about the money. You have also given me a home and shelter and it is an absolute honor to work for you, Dr Galindo.”

Miguel patted the woman’s hands, now asking her about Cristobal.

“In his room. He said that he has to practice for the drama group.”

Miguel’s pager buzzed and he now excused himself and went to his study to reply to the call.

As he got into his study, he put the computer on.   he took now the photograph of his late wife in his hands.

"You told me not to stay alone- but -I couldn't. I never thought I would be able to feel something for someone again,” Miguel inhaled deeply, “but I do." His thought swayed to Elena. Like Rebekah had said. She was a sweet, dear person, and his heart went double beat.

[victoria-daydreams]

Skylark - Chapter Two

Chapter One

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Sorry if there's any mistakes.

Pairings: Collins X OC

The air around Alice smelled of books, that wonderful scent of ink and paper that she reveled in. To Alice, the smell was calming it set her a little, if not at all, at ease. Working at Arthur's Bookshop was a lot quieter than working at a nightclub as one could imagine, but this suited Alice just fine, it was the perfect balance. The scratchy record player behind the front counter played softly which could be heard from the backroom of the bookshop where Alice resided. She was sorting the new deliveries of books that came in earlier in the day.

Alice took a deep breath and exhaled loudly, thankful for the lack of customers today. It was a Friday, which meant a slow day at the bookshop, but at least she could get caught up on some reading. The soft sound of silvery chime from the small bell that hung above the door echoed in the shop followed by the soft bang of the door closing.

"Good afternoon sir," two female voices greeted simultaneously.

Alice arched an eyebrow at the flirtatious tones of her co-workers, Mary Parkes and Edith Drake.

When Alice was first saw Mary, she reminded her of a Hollywood starlet from the states. With her high aristocratic cheekbones and slightly angular heart shaped face, a straight nose, arching eyebrows, and blue almond shaped eyes. Which were all framed by the golden waves of her curly blonde hair. Then there was Edith, who was just as pretty as Mary. A bright smile always graced her pale, oval shaped face, and the darkest lashes and brows which drew attention to her hazel colored doe-eyes.

At first, Alice wasn't sure how her two co-workers would respond to working with her, but her worries were erased when Mary embraced her excitedly after Alice told her she was the new employee, telling her they'll have loads of fun together compared to the last girl that was here. Edith offered Alice a simple handshake, but she still welcomed her in a warm manner.

Hearing the giggles and hushed whispers of Mary and Edith, Alice grabbed a stack of books from the table and made her way to the front counter to find out what was going on.

"What's got you two giggling like two schoolgirls?" Alice inquired quietly, placing the books down on the counter.

Mary's blonde curls danced across her shoulders as looked at Alice with a grin.

"The most handsomest man I have ever seen just walked into the store," Mary sighed dreamily, placing both of her hands over heart.

The brunette on Alice's right rolled her eyes, "You say that about every guy you see Mary," Edith retorted, her voice low. Mary narrowed her blue eyes at Edith and Edith childishly stuck her tongue out in return.

"She does have a point Mary," Alice agreed smirking, with a shrug of her shoulders.

Mary silently scoffed in faux shock as Edith placed her hand on top of Alice's, getting her attention again.

"But I can't disagree with Mary on this one, he's quite the catch," Edith stated, nodding her head. "Go take a look for yourself," she suggested, flicking her chin out.

Now it was Alice rolling her eyes, "I will, but once we're done ogling at this customer, please help me with the books in the back," she requested, picking up her stack of books again.

"Will do!" Mary called, from behind her.

Alice walked away from her coworkers and from behind the counter to the many bookshelves that filled the shop. Hundreds of new and used books lined the shelves that slightly dipped under the combined weight of them. Alice moved down an aisle, her eyes sweeping over the sections: 'fiction', 'history', 'cooking'. Each bookcase boasted a different subject.

As Alice placed the books that were in her hands in their respective sections, she got a glimpse of the man that Mary and Edith were gushing about. Well, she at least got a glimpse of the back of him, all she could see was that he was tall and blond and was wearing forest green cardigan and brown slacks. Alice watched the man browse the shelves in a fashion that appeared almost mindless, quietly she followed behind him as he continued aimlessly walking through the aisles.

"May I help you?" Alice questioned, from behind the man.

The man turned around and Alice's eyes widened in shock at the familiar bright, blue eyes gazing at her. It was Jack Collins.

"I'm just lookin' around," he answered, as Alice took a step forward.

Alice lifted an eyebrow, asking herself why didn't he recognize her. Maybe Jack wasn't as sober as Alice thought he was when they met that night at the club.

"I wasn't expecting to see you soon Mr. Collins," Alice joked, and he slightly cocked his head to the side in confusion.

"I'm sorry?" Jack asked, moving closer to her. "But how do ye know my name? Have we met?" he questioned.

"Jack it's me, Alice. Alice Lloyd from two nights ago," she replied, still not understanding why he was finding it so difficult to recognize her.

Alice lifted her hand and pushed her black, round frame glasses up from her nose and that's when she realized why Jack was having a hard time recognizing her. Alice removed her glasses from her face and Jack’s eyes widened in surprise, Alice had no doubt he was struck by how different she looked with glasses on.

"Alice?" Jack breathed, his eyes scanning over her figure.

In contrast to two nights ago, Alice had her hair pulled up into a neat chignon with two dark curls hanging on either side of her face. Her red halter dress that she wore that night was now replaced with a blue A-line skirt and a cream keyhole short-sleeve sweater.

"Why I didn't even recognize ye," he laughed softly. "Ye like-"

"Superman," the two of them said simultaneously.

Alice bowed her head in laughter, "I get that all the time," she chuckled, shaking her head. "How on earth did you find this bookshop," Alice asked, sliding her glasses back on her face.

Jack held his arms behind his back, "I just stumbled upon it," he shrugged, now walking beside her. "I was walking te get some fresh air and then I saw this charming bookshop," he explained, glancing over at Alice. "I've been meaning te get a book to entertain me while I'm away, but now I think found something better," he finished, a smile on his lips.

A soft grin made its way on Alice's face and she cleared her throat, "Can I help you find a particular book?" she asked, looking over at him.

"No, but can ye do somethin' for me..." he trailed off, and Alice arched an eyebrow as she noticed the cheeks of his fair skin turned slightly rosy. "Will ye join for me a cup of tea?" he asked softly, as they stopped in front of the counter where Mary and Edith both stood. "And maybe you can tell me what books I should read while we're there," he added playfully.

The two women had halted in sorting the books they had picked up from the backroom, staring at Alice and Jack with their mouths open. Mary was the first one to recover from her stupor.

"Of course she will!" Mary said excitedly, answering for Alice.

Alice turned her head towards Mary, and silently gave her look that expressed 'What the hell Mary', before facing Jack again so she could give an answer herself.

"I would like that very much Jack, but my shift doesn't end until another thirty minutes," Alice explained.

"No, go ahead Alice," Edith grinned, looking at Alice. "Fridays are always slow, your presence won't be missed," she reassured, her grin widening as she glanced at Jack.

"Well then, let me grab my coat," Alice said, lifting her eyes to meet Jack's and he nodded, a smile on his face.

Alice's heels clicked along the floor as she went to the backroom, Mary and Edith followed behind her shortly after, but not before they shot a smile in Jack's direction which he kindly returned. Mary closed the door behind her and turned around to face Alice, letting out a quiet squeal as she rushed over to her. Edith grabbed Alice's left arm and Mary took a hold of her right arm, both of them grinning excitedly.

"How on earth do you know him already?" Edith asked.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Mary questioned.

"We met at the Garden Rouge," Alice answered, tugging her arms from the grips of Mary and Edith. "I didn't know that was him walking into the bookshop," she answered, now free from her friends. "I was back here, actually doing work," she reminded, grabbing her coat from the coat rack and sliding it on.

"You're a lucky gal Alice," Mary commented, with a grin. "I was about to make him mine if another a minute had passed," she added, folding her arms against her chest.

Alice rolled her eyes, "I'm sure you were Mary," she joked, as she placed her black, wool beret on top of her head.

Edith handed Alice her purse, "Have fun!" she wished, as Alice opened the backroom door.

Alice smiled and nodded her head in thanks and walked to where Jack was waiting for her.

"Shall we?" Jack asked, offering his arm to her.

"With pleasure," she answered, gratefully taking his arm.

Chapter Three

[chelleaslin]

Rare Pair Month Day 10-Party (Lukanette)

@mlrarepairmonth

Marinette could feel the steady thumping of the bass as she entered through the gates of the Agreste Manor. She wore her long hair down along with a cute red dress with black polka dots, an inside joke among her friend group. By her right side was her best friend, Alya, who was sporting a orange one piece jumpsuit, with white pumps, also an inside joke.

“I can’t believe Adrien’s 18.” Alya mused as she reached to fiddle with a necklace that was no longer there, a habit that Marinette was all too familiar with.

“Yeah, it’s been a rough ride, but things seem to finally be going right for him.” She smiled sadly as she looked at the ground.

Marinette’s mind wondered as she reminisced through the last few years, so much has happen in such a short span of 5 years since she got her Miraculous and became Ladybug.

“He’s fine, Marinette.” Alya smiled as she squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. “thanks to Chlo.”

It’s true, Chloe was an angel sent from God himself. It was something Marinette would have never thought she’d ever say but here she was thanking her almost everyday for saving Adrien.

4 years ago, the team decided to revel their identities to each other to form a closer bond.

Marinette of course knew everyone’s Identites, as she is the one how bestowned the Miraculous’ upon them, all except Chatnoir.

Everyone knew Queen Bee was Chloe so that wasn’t a shock. Alya and Nino knew each others identities already, Chloe wasnt thrilled to have been working with them but forgot about that fast when Chat detransformed. No one expected Adrien Agreste to be behind the mask. Especially Marinette, Marinette who was In love with Adrien, Adrien who was Chatnoir, Chatnoir who was in love with Ladybug, Ladybug who was Marinette. She dropped her mask as well, it should have been perfect.

It was at first, they kissed and declared their love for each other but things didn’t always work out. They only loved half of each other only and it wasn’t enough, their relationship felt forced and they fell into old habits, Adrien treating Marinette has just a friend but constantly trying to be lovely doves with Ladybug and Marinette trying to Cosy up to Adrien but still not being comfortable with Chatnoir.

There final battle with Hawkmoth is what finally crushed their romance. They successfully captured him and obtain the missing Miraculous. Finding out Hawkmoths identity was hard for Adrien, but after seeing his mothers comatose body in the basement, he tried to kill his own father. Lucky Queen Bees quick thinking saved him from years of regret, she paralysed Adrien with her Venom, and knock him out cold while the police arrested Mr. Agreste and Nathalie. After that Adriens life fell apart, with no Legal guardian or relatives he was to be placed into a foster home until he turned 18. Chloe couldn’t stand around and let her best friend be send away, after 4 months of being in care, Adrien Agreste was adopted by The mayor and was able to come home to Paris.

Marinette remembers the nerves she felt upon seeing him again. He had changed so much, he was a shell of what he used to be. He broke things off with her that night and shut himself away.

It’s been a year since then and Adrien is finally 18, meaning he was old enough to inherit the Agreste fortune, manor and design company. He meet up with Marinette 2 weeks ago to catch up, it was safe to say they had no bad blood between them, they were still close friends. Marinette was just glad Adrien was back to normal after being through so much, she missed her partner.

“Come on!” Alya said as she opened the door and pushed Marinette inside. Marinette stumbled before finding her balance. The party was huge! The entire interior was filled with familiar faces all smiling and drinking. There were green and black streamers and balloons everywhere, Marinette smirk at the colour scheme, she loved their inside jokes.

“Babe!” A deep voice called out, Marinette turned her head to see Nino jogging over to the pair, “you guys made it.” He grinned before kissing Alya in greeting. Nino wore a green dress shirt with slacks and a baggy dark green hoodie over it with Shell On sprawled across the back,

“Hey Nino, nice hoodie” Marinette snickered. Nino just through her a wink over Alya head before grabbing his girlfriends hand.

“Mind if I steal your date, I only have a few songs left on Auto before my next set” he explained, pointing towards the turn tables in the corner of the room.

“Nino, I came with Marinette so she wouldn’t be alone.” Alya whispered to Nino, but Marinette heard anyway.

“I’ll be fine Alya” The blue eyes girl sighed “shoo, go have fun.” She said as she shooed the pair away with her hands.

“What about you?” Alya asked as Nino started to drag her away.

“I’ll mingle.” She smiled as she turned her back to the pair and walked towards the buffet table.

Marinette appreciated Alya kindness but she knew the short headed brunette was only doing this because she thought Marinette would be upset about seeing Adrien. She wasn’t though, she was happy just being in his life again as a friend. Alya didn’t believe her but Marinette kind of understood where she was coming from, she was obsessed with Adrien for most of her teen years.

Marinette sighed as she picked up a cookie from the table and frowned a little. It was times like this that she missed Tikki, but Master Fu collected all the Miraculous straight after Hawkmoth was captured, she barely had time to say goodbye.

“Do you miss her?” A familiar voice sadly asked, making Marinette jump. She spun around to see Chloe standing behind her. She wore a simple light yellow dress with a black belt, her hair in a messy side braid.

“All the time.” Marinette confessed sadly, Chloe just nodding in understanding.

“Pollen was my best friend and we weren’t together nearly as long and you and Tikki so I can’t even begain to imagine.”

Marinette tackled the other girl in a tight hug as her eyes watered. It felt good to have people in her life that understands her pain. Chloe pulled away and choked out a sobbed laughed.

“Look at us! We are complete messes. It’s Adrienkins birthday we should be celebrating!” She cheered as she picked up to wine flute from a passing waiter. She passed one to Marinette before chugging hers down.

“Woah.” Marinette gasped as her eyes bulged slightly “are you okay?” She asked Chloe In concern, the girl was downing her drink.

“I’m going to finally ask him out.” Chloe gasped slightly, out of breath.

“Really?” Marinette squealed as she tackled Chloe in another hug. Marinette had known about Chloe’s crush for as long as she knew Adrien. The two girls never getting along because of her love for the model. After everything that happen with Hawkmoth and Adrien the two girls bonded. Chloe suddenly had a lot more respect for Marinette after finding out she was her hero, Ladybug. After Adrien and Marinette broke up, Chloe was there for both of them helping them through it. She saved Adrien more times over the past to years then Marinette can count, she gain so much of Marinettes respect. The two started to hang out about a year ago and hit it off right away, Chloe confessed her feelings to Marinette one night, crying out of guilt. Marinette knew then and there that Chloe was the only one perfect enough for Adrien and she vowed that she’ll be her wing women through it all.

Alya on the other hand was friends with Chloe just not as close. She thought Adrien and Marinette were still meant to be and strongly disapproved of Chloe and Marinettes plan.

“Shit, here he come.” Chloe cursed as Adrien approached the two.

“Hey girls.” He smiled down at the pair kindly, Adrien had grown quite a bit. Adrien wore a green button up with black slacks, his hair styled very Chat noir like.

“H-hey.” Chloe stuttered out, her face blushed a pink hue. Marinette wasn’t sure if it was from the alcohol or Adrien approximaty, she had her money on the later.

“Happy Birthday Adrien.” Marinette smiled kindly. Adrien looked at her with a pained expression for a second before smiling back.

“Thanks Mari” he politely replied.

“Oh happy birthday!” Chloe blurted, her nerves eating her alive. She was never like this around Adrien maybe the alcohol wasn’t the best idea.

“You already said it this morning Chlo.” Adrien chuckled smiling at her in adoration. Marinette felt a warm feeling in her stomach watching the Pair tip toe around each other, it was so obvious that they had feelings for each other, they have been each others rocks for many years, long before miraculous and super villains.

Suddenly a slow song started to play through the speakers, giving Marinette and idea. She put her hand and either of the pairs backs and shoved them towards the dance floor.

“Go dance lovebirds.”she smirked as both of the blondes blushed furiously.

“Ahem, would you care to dance My Queen.” Adrien asked nervously, hand extended towards Chloe. She blushed, biting her lip nervously as she took his hand and followed him onto the dance floor. She look back at Marinette and mouthed a thank you.

Marinette giggled a little as she searched the room for Nino and Alya, she found the pair dancing together near fair right corner. She smiled again before leaning back against a wall, she was so happy for her team.

“Things have definitely changed quite a bit.” A deep voice spoke from beside her. Marinette jumped, she thought she was alone. She turned her head to see a tall man next to her. She had long black hair that was thrown up in a messy half pony tail, his finger nails were pained black and he had a sleeve of tattoos on one arm. “Did I just see you hooked up Agreste with the mayors daughter?”

“Uh yeah, they’re my friends.” She said warily, who was this man?

“You don’t remember me do you? Ma-Ma-Marinette!” He smirked, snake bites glistening in the lights. Marinette furrowed her eyebrows, why did that sound so familiar? Suddenly it all clicked.

“Luka?!” She spurted out in shock. Holy fucking shit, he got hot. Lukas smiled just widened at her reaction.

“What are you doing here?” Last she heard he hit the road after turning 18 which was a few years ago.

“I come back home every know and then to visit, Mum and Jules.” He explained, “I bumped into Adrien when I was out and about and we caught up over coffee, he invited me to his party after that.”

“Oh.” Marinette smiled, feeling super awkward and nervous.

“Would you like to dance?” Luka asked as he gestured to the dance floor. Marinettes heart started to thump loudly in her chest, butterflies erupting in her stomach.

“Yes” She squeaked out shlying. Luka just smirked in delight at her nerves.

“What wrong Marinette?” He asked innocently as he advanced towards her. He now stood almost chest to chest with the girl, their faces centremeters apart. Marinettes heart was going crazy right now, he was way too close, she could smell Alcohol and cigarettes on his breath.

“I-I..” She stuttered, her brain practically shutting down. He suddenly stepped back as he chuckled loudly. His laugh was so fucking sexy, Marinette clamped her thighs shut tightly.

“Mari!”

Marinette and Luka booth turned there heads towards the dance floor were Alya and the rest of the gang were standing. The slow song had ended and a more upbeat song started.

“Looks like we missed our chance” Luka sighed before turning towards Marinette. “I’ve got to leave but I definitely want to catch up with you” he started to walk way as he spoke to her. “Still live at the Bakery?” He asked.

“Yeah, still with my parents.” She confirmed, slightly embarrassed about her living situation.

“Cool, I’ll pick you up around lunch time, wear something cute for me.” With that he walked away. Marinette was just gaping a little to herself. What the actual fuck just happen and what the actual fuck happened to Luka?

“Marinette!” A bossy Alya called once again, interrupting her thoughts. She gave Lukas retreating figure one last glance before heading over to her friends. Was she going on a date tomorrow?

[littleredroseonthevalley]

St. Catherine of Alexandria

Or, The Piety of the Seamstress

Summary: A few days after the party, Ernest finds himself alone with Miss Beauchamp once more.

Rating: M -  Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16 with non-explicit suggestive adult themes, references to some violence, or coarse language.

Words: 1855

Notes: This is a little different from what I’ve been doing so far with all those saints (Mary Magdalene, St. Thomas Aquinas, St. Paul and Jeremiah). Instead of St. Catherine to be a stand-alone like all of those, this is a direct sequel from  St. Paul.

I decided to do this due to a request two weeks ago (yeah, I’m mercurial like that) from @mrsernestsinclaire for some kind of confrontation between Ernie Honey and Susan, so he could understand why she blew him on the woods that one time. I rather liked the idea, and ended up cooking this up. I hope you all enjoy it!

Historical facts: the women who arranged matches for ‘fallen women’ in Northern France were, according to my grandmother, called ‘seamstresses’, because they ‘sew matches’.

It is also true that ‘fine literature’ had strong relations to folk stories. The collecting fever of those stories, fairytales, was still to come, but many European books are based on stories the common people told one another, and many of those were based on plots of books they heard about or plays that were performed on the streets, including the foreword for this fanfiction, The Act of the Ship of Hell.

“I ask thee on my knees! Care for I have lice, angel of the Lord, my Rose? For I am the generous provider for the girls at order of the canons of the See…

Consider me, on thy Faith, my love, my blooms, white as fine, little pearls! And I am presentable, in healthy constitution and fair skin, and I have done many a virtuous acts.

Saint Ursula could not convert as many girls as I: all saved by mine, none has strayed. To the Lord above, I swear, all could find their place. Think thee I faltered on my watch? For I have not lost the stitch on my needle!”

~ The Act of the Ship of Hell, The Procuress, 1517

The unsuspecting gentleman of his time could think a commoner, newly-elevated to the condition of noblewoman, would prefer to take advantage of the more gregarious aspects of her new position in life. To converse at length about nothing in particular, to gorge on flavourful food and to practice her former trade on an informal setting.

He would argue that the enlightening of the mind is a hard enough task for a man trained his whole life. What hope could have a barely-literate peasant just out of the hovels? A woman, no less?

Susan is glad she lived in such retrograde world, she was more than happy to surround herself with bigoted, near-sighted men who take her as nothing but a fat income wrapped around a pretty face.

Bring out the people who are blind, yet have eyes, who are deaf, yet have ears, Isaiah said, and Susan endorses. The stupidity of others is what furthers her position; it is their ignorance that cloaks her acts.

It is the discredit of her intelligence, of her very own literacy, that makes the library such a great place to hide from the dreaded circle of embroidery held by her despicable mother-in-law. It is the general mist of mediocrity that hangs low in Edgewater that grants the library its peaceful air.

Her afternoon was to be spent with a tall glass of water and an entertaining farce one of her former correspondents had indicated for her amusement, and her natural father had a copy hidden between the volumes in his care.

A nice way to see the Saturday tickle by, if any happen to ask her sincere input.

Her plans were interrupted, however, by a sudden interruption on her peace, in form of Mr Sinclaire’s barging into the library.

The young lady had to concede her presence there was unnoticed by her own kin, it was not fair of her to demand of Mr Sinclaire the forethought to predict her presence in the room, and he did have the decency to appear embarrassed by his actions.

“My apologies, Lady Susan.” He says, prostrate. “I was told the library would be empty.”

“No worries, Mr Sinclaire. What brings you to Edgewater this afternoon?” She asks, a soft smile gracing her features.

It was amusing to her seeing how soft men became once she was responsible for one of their releases. Even the brutish seaman on the docks of England became meek once a wiry madam satisfied his urges.

Any men was a guarantee for an entertaining spectacle, but dour, lonely sorts like Mr Sinclaire were remarkably so. Lady Susan has pulled the weights; she wagered it is time, now, to reap the results.

“I am in need of a book, milady, and your father had been kind enough to let me peruse his library in search of it.” He responds to her earlier questioning. “I wish to be no bother to your reading, perhaps I ought to return another time.”

Ah, so he was afraid to be alone with her again, she concludes. One might suppose it is unavoidable, due to the intransigence of his values compared to the frailty of his resolve.

“Why waste the soles of your shoes, Mr Sinclaire, by taking such a long walk unnecessarily?” She wonders, drawing him in with her voice. “Please, come in, I will help you finding what you desire.”

The blond man cocks his head in agreement. “Very well, Lady Susan. I gladly accept your assistance.”

He steps into the room, but leaves the door open. Noticing it to be a clever scheme to contain her, if he could not be contained, she was more deviant than that.

“Shut the door, please.” Her tone leaves no opening for dissent. “The bustle from the house bothers my concentration.”

He looks wary at the command, but obeys.

“I require a treaty on parasitic fungi, Lady Susan. Preferably a modern one, if you can find.” The esquire asks. “Would you be kind enough to look for it on that side of the room while I search for it in here?”

“There is no need for such, Mr Sinclaire. I remember to have seen a book on agricultural methods the other day I think should fit your necessity quite fine.” She says, while walking over to one of the shelves. “I fear Edgewater’s library has been deeply neglected the last few years. I’ve been trying to establish some order to the volumes, but I often have trouble even deciding where should I start.”

He nods. “It is, indeed, a shame the state of this library. You must have noticed the countess is not given to the letters, and the earl has much to be concerned to dedicate himself to the extensive care it demands.”

“You shall hear no disagreement from me.” She says as she plucks a book from the shelf. “Here it is. Considerations on the Famine of 1775. It is an eclectic volume, but it should give you directions on fungicide techniques.”

“I thank you, milady.” He nods his head, respectfully. “I am sure it will be of use. May I be so bold and ask what has taken your interest this afternoon?”

The brunette noblewoman shows him the lean book. “It is a medieval play, The Farce of Master Pathelin.”

“I cannot say I am familiar with it.” The esquire admits.

She chuckles, softly. “I did not expect you to. It is an uncommon title, I was lucky enough for my father to have a copy.”

His pride slightly hurt, Ernest scoffs and asks, “And how do you happen to know of it, then?”

“Silly highborns.” Susan shakes her head in derision. “You think the republic of letters is your restricted domain. The peasants go to the theatre, too, Mr Sinclaire, and they tell stories men of culture haughtily transcribe and call their own. I may barely escaped the spike, but I’ve been to this world about as much as you, and I wager I gathered just as much knowledge as you.”

Properly censored, he walks back his argument and humbly asks, “Have I offended you, Lady Susan?”

“No. It is I who should modulate my expectations with our reality.” She responded, lightly. “I tire of this conversation, Mr Sinclaire. Especially because I know this is a poorly calculated subterfuge to keep yourself from asking what you really want to know.”

“I-I do not know what you mean, Lady Susan, and I would prefer if you contained yourself this time.” He stutters, while taking a step back.

The woman smiles wickedly. “This time, huh? Yes, this is exactly what I mean. You want to know why I did what I did to you by the pond, and you would like for me to do it again.”

“That is preposterous!” He raises his voice, but it does not come to a shout. “I am an upstanding member of polite society, Lady Susan. I do not think of these vile acts, and I certainly do not desire to have them performed.”

She giggles and sits comfortably back in her armchair. “An upstanding man, yes, but a man first and foremost. A man with wants. It is all correct, Mr Sinclaire, it is the way of the nature.”

The esquire scoffs. “It might be the way of nature, but is not the way of the righteous. I would appreciate if you kept your deviant reasoning to yourself.”

“Have anyone ever tell you about my mother’s trade, Mr Sinclaire?” She raises to her feet and paces around the room.

“It is said she was a seamstress.” He responds, slightly confused.

“Yes, indeed, she was a seamstress.” She smiles at him, not in the way of comforting his raging nerves but to excite them further. “Do you know what a seamstress do?”

The blond rolls his eyes and responds, with a degree of sarcasm, “I am to assume they sew fabric, Lady Susan.”

“Some do, yes, especially in the realm of proper men.” She counters, willfull. “The lowborn, however, they have a special kind of seamstress. They, like my mother, disguise the loss of virtue of unmarried women and sew them matches, they arrange for the fruits of their so-called sins to vanish, and they protect the defenceless.”

“Lady Susan, I…” He starts to say, but she holds up her hand and motions for his silence.

The brunette walks closer to him, rounding him like a lion ready to pounce in its prey.

“As the years go by, Mr Sinclaire, I find men that excite my senses, that stake a claim to my attention and my good wishes. You happen to be one of them.” She says, with an unreadable expression. “To answer your question, I did it because I enjoy giving as much as you enjoy receiving.”

“Why?” He whispers. “It is a foul act.”

She shrugs delicately. “It is an acquired taste, I suppose. In time, I could teach you to enjoy giving as well, but I digress. The fact stands that I do what I do because I feel like it. For now, we have only scratched the surface of the things we can do together, but you should know there is nothing to fear. I, too, know how to sew.”

Susan walks over to his standing figure, cornered by the window of the library, and presses her body against his. She feels his swollen virility pressed against her uterus, and teases him by passing her thumb softly over his lips, a simulation of what she could do.

“I will tell you not whether I have already lost my natural hymen. In the future, when we go to the races, if you grace yourself to propose, and I see fit to concur, then it is all correct. Though, if you do not, then there is way to have it appear like nothing ever happened.”

She raises to her feet, as in to match his unordinary height and whispers on his ear: “Let yourself go, Mr Sinclaire. I will wait for your call, I am a patient woman, but do not make me wait too long.”

The woman returns her heel to the ground and gives Ernest some space. With a final deviant smile, she walks to the armchair and fetches her book and her chalice filled with water.

“Enjoy your reading, Mr Sinclaire.” Susan says, and leaves him alone in the room.

Taglist: @catlady0911; @choicesyouplayandmore; @cocomaxley; @llholloway; @mrsernestsinclaire; @shelivesinthewoods; @tornbetween2loves

[golddaggers]

Daddy

*not my gif

pairings: klaus mikaelson x reader; kol mikaelson x reader.

warnings: fingering, oral sex (female receiving), sex, teasing, swearing; NSFW +18.

A/N: writing this challenged me a lot, so the feedback is really really important. i want to know if y’all enjoyed this. :)

word count: 3664

A loud music was jittering within the place, making people dance and cheer, excited. As for me, I was more than happy to watch it from afar, playing with my cranberry vodka, not knowing exactly why I had come to this party when I was clearly not in the mood for it.

“Why the sad face, doll?” The bartender asked, leaning in the counter top, analysing my traits closely. “Didn’t you date arrive yet?”

“I didn’t come with a date, Ben.” I rolled my eyes, gulping down the pink liquid and feeling it burn down my throat. “I came to forget one, actually.”

“Oh.”

“That’s okay, just keep the alcohol coming and I’ll be fine.”

A week earlier, Elena Gilbert, also known as my best friend, told me there was going to be this party. And, considering I had just broken up things with Klaus, yes, I did date the infamous hybrid, I rushed to accept her offer. I needed to drown myself in booze and maybe meet someone knew. It wasn’t fair what he had done, ditching me to go New Orleans for some rumour, then stating he needed to stay there for an unknown amount of time, which would make our relationship hard to maintain. All of it during a bloody phone call.

I huffed, noticing the anger spreading quickly through my veins. No, I wouldn’t be moping about a guy who did not even had the guts to break up with me in person. I slammed down three shots of tequila and trudged to the dance floor, finding the brunette already there, swaying her hips against Damon’s, both of them looking incredibly happy.

The tune playing on the background was unknown to me, but I started to dance anyway, flashing the couple an amused grin. They were so deep inside their talk that I wasn’t noticed at all. By them, of course, because it took exactly two minutes for me to sense a pair of hands landing on my waistline. I didn’t have to turn to know who it was, for I had already seen him coming in.

“You’re too damn beautiful to be dancing all by yourself, Y/N.”

“Aren’t you afraid your brother will dagger your arse for dancing with his former girl?” I shot back, a hoarse laugh echoing in my ear afterwards, pushing me to chuckle too.

“You said it right: former girl.”

He spun me around, forcing me to link my arms around his neck to find balance, his sneaky hands never leaving my body. It was so typical of Kol to pull those stuff; I knew he was merely joking, but sometimes it just got to my nerves. Especially when he wore that cocky smirk, directing me glances that he shouldn’t.

Urgh.

“What do you want?”

“I’m okay, thank you.” He playfully winked, locking me on his arms, swinging us out of sync with the loud electronic music that was filling the room. “Just wanted to check up on you, considering you and Klaus broke up…”

“I’m fine, Kol. So what if your stupid, pathetic brother left me? I’m better off without him.”

“Yes, I can see how “fine” you are.” A tired sigh fell from my lips as I lied my head down on his chest, not wanting to let my perfect mask break down. Not here, at least. “Please don’t cry, okay? You know I have a soft spot for you and I would hate to see you crying…”

“I’m just confused… Why did he leave me? Am I not pretty? Not interesting enough?” I muttered lowly, knowing he was more than able to hear my confession. “I know I shouldn’t have let myself get so attached…”

“If you want to know my opinion, Klaus was pretty damn stupid to leave you. You’re perfect. In every way. If you had chosen me to be your partner… I would never let you slip through my hands.”

“You’re so adorable, Kol.” Perking up my eyes, I found Kol smiling gently at me, which brought up an urge to touch his face. I cupped his cheeks, our eyesights boring into one another for a split second before I looked away. I couldn’t do that. I wouldn’t bring that lovable man to this mess that is my life. “Would do me a sweet favour?”

“Yes, of course. Anything you want.”

“Take me home.”

“Right now?” His brows were scrunched together, in confusion. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. One hundred percent sure.”

“Alright then, let’s go.”

“Come on!”

I intertwined my fingers on his, pushing through the crowd to get to the front door, finally exiting that place, meeting an empty, cold street outside. It had been a horrible idea and I was glad I would be home in a few minutes, slipping into my pajamas, watching F.R.I.E.N.D.S whilst drowning myself in ice cream. Self loathing too, if I were to be honest.

The brown haired man remained silent while I guided him to where I had parked my white sedan, which was not very far from the pub at all. Once there, I unlocked the vehicle, throwing him the keys afterwards and then taking the passenger’s seat, slamming the door shut. He joined me a second after, turning the car on; however, Kol didn’t start driving, instead, he directed me a suggestive look. It appeared to me that the Mikaelson was confused with something.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“If it isn’t Klaus related, be my guest.”

He chuckled, his right hand resting carelessly on my leg. Even though it wasn’t a malicious action, it made me tense up, licking my lips, which suddenly went dry, and quirking an eyebrow. His touch made a fuzzy feeling spread quickly through my form, but, hey, it should be the tequila making me feel things that weren’t really there.

“Never mind, then.”

“Oh, Kol, I was just joking.” A shy smirk curled the tips of my mouth. “Ask what you want to know.”

“Why did you chose him?”

“To be honest, I have no idea.” I shrugged, beholding the view outside, noticing myself slightly embarrassed. “I guess it’s one of those cheesy destiny things, you know? He was in the right place at the right time.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I get it. It’s awful.”

“No. I just didn’t see my brother being in this sort of relationship.”

“Klaus is complicated person.” Kol nodded whilst skilfully taking the car from its spot and going to the path that would lead to my place. “But again, I am it too, so we kind of made a great pair together.”

“I’m sorry things didn’t work out.”

Despite his voice sounding apologetic, his facial expression remained intact. His pink lips in a straight line and eyes locked on the road ahead. He was clearly upset by what I had stated previously. It wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

Ever since we met, I was fully aware that Kol had feelings for me, which pushed me into being extra careful to not lead him on, because unrequited love sucks and I didn’t want to put him, nor me, in that position.

I leant back on my cushioned seat, shaking my head to snap my mind out of these thoughts. It was a lot better for both of us if I just kept pretending I was oblivious to how he felt about me.

Yes, a lot better.

It was almost 11 P.M. when we finally arrived at my street, the light lamps poorly enlightening the sidewalks and the rail towards my house. Within two minutes, Kol parked my BMW underneath a tall tree, which was swinging to a light breeze.

I gazed at him with curiosity, smiling once I spotted the mischievous smirk lying on his lips. We walked out of the car, both leaning against the door and facing the entrance of my home.

“Here we are, home sweet home!”

“Yes, and thank you for doing this.”

“No, it was nothing. I think you know how much I like you and-”

“Sh.” Placing one finger on his lips, I cut him off, not wanting to hear his declaration. I was never someone who enjoyed breaking people’s hearts, let alone the ones that belonged to people I had affections for. “Don’t say anything.”

“But you need to know!” He murmured, wrapping his hand on my wrist, carefully pushing it away. “I want you to know.”

“Kol…”

Then, before I could say something else, the chocolate eyed man crashed his mouth on mine. His hands cupping my face while its thumbs massaged my cheekbones. It all happened so fast, I was still in shock when he pulled away, glaring at me in expectation. Yet, I was not able to come up with anything, I just stood there, eyes widened, mouth gaped open. A complete mess.

“What the hell is that?” A masculine voice, soaked in anger, broke the built up silence, startling me and Kol up. “Come on! Explain it!”

“Klaus? What the hell are you doing here?”

“I came here to talk to you, to make it up for my mistake, but I clearly see that you have already replaced me.” The blond haired man snarled, moving sternly towards the other one, however, afore he reached his objective, I quickly stood in between them, my hand splayed on the hybrid’s chest. “My brother, Y/N? Really?”

“Here is definitely not the place for this conversation.”

Glancing over my shoulder, I gave Kol a pleading look, silently asking him to leave us alone, I would have to deal with this. Matter fact, I think I was the only one who could fix it. Yet, once I saw the sadness within his irises when he nodded, disappearing in the shadows, my heart shattered. Fuck. I hated all of this.

“Well, I’m waiting for an explanation.”

“You don’t actually deserve one, you know. You left me, exchanged my love for power.”

“That’s not true.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Directing him an annoyed glare, I started to fumble through the stuff that was in my purse, trying to find the keys to my house. All I wanted now was a shot of whiskey. Seemed appropriate to the occasion, for no amount of ice cream would do any good to me. I was way too mad.

“I never meant to-”

“Save it, Klaus.” I rolled my eyes, getting inside my place and seeing him following me, like he used to do when we got home late from parties. The tall brown coloured door was closed in an instant. “Do tell me what you from me though.”

“I don’t want anything from you.” Klaus stated, gripping my hips and pinning me against a wall, his breath hitting my face, making me suddenly nervous. “I just want you.”

“This is not fair.”

“Since when do I play fair?”

“I hate you.” A strangled laugh fell from my lips as I wounded my arms around his neck, glueing our bodies together. “I hate that you make me want you even when I’m mad at you. When I’m broken because of you.”

“I love you, Y/N, and I’m so sorry for being stupid. For leaving when I should have stayed. Now I know my place is by your side only.” His blue eyes were glassy with tears, which drove me to smash my lips against his in a clumsy kiss. It was merely a peck, but it caused my heart to skip a beat. “You’re so fucking perfect, I don’t know what I did to deserve someone like you.”

“Okay, listen to me, this is the first and the last time I buying your crap, alright? Don’t blew it, otherwise… Well, Kol seems a pretty good choice to me.”

He gazed at me in disbelief, like I had said something that didn’t belong to this world. After a second or so, Klaus exhaled, pushing me further against the wall, his grip tightening around my skin while he pressed his lips against mine fervently. I tangled my digits on his hair, pulling it as I gasped into the kiss, feeling my entire form warming up.

“I’m going to show you that I am a much better fit for you than my lovely brother.”

“Yeah, I would like to see you try.”

That appeared to have lighted a fire inside my ex-not-so-ex boyfriend, who, in a blink of an eye, tore my short dress into shreds, tossing it on the floor. He was quick to wrap his mouth around my right nipple, his tongue swirling on it, making me bite my lip to avoid extra noisy sounds.

“No. Stop that.”

“Stop what, Nik?”

“Stop biting that God damned lip! I want to hear every single loud sound you make. Each moan. Each gasp. No hold backs.”

“Oh, but my neighbors won’t like that so much.”

“Like I care about what your neighbors think.”

A giggle escaped while I observed with excitement as Klaus knelt in front of me, rapidly starting to play with my knickers’ waistband. He licked his lips, dragging them across the skin of my inner thigh, his nose slightly nudging my core. Oh, fuck, I had forgotten how much he enjoyed teasing me. Doing everything at leisure just to see me writhing underneath him, begging for more.

Leaving behind my thighs, his mouth reached my lower belly, scattering a whole bunch of sloppy kisses across it. The tension was starting to get uncomfortable, which was why I rolled my hips. I needed some sort of friction, but I didn’t see him doing something any time soon. It was driving me to get frustrated, yet, all he did was laugh at my failed attempts. After that, Klaus yanked one of my legs, placing it on his shoulder, displaying my clothed entrance to him like it was an open buffet.  

“Apparently someone is eager today.” He muttered, finally pushing my black piece of underwear to the left side, revealing to my partner the place he was needed the most. “That’s a sight I have missed.”

“Don’t say things like that.” I commented, shaking my head whilst crinkling my nose. “It makes me embarrassed.”

“I don’t buy it.” Upon experiencing two of his long slim fingers being shoved inside me, I hissed, buckling forwards to grind on it. A loud whine slipped through my lips, filling the room. “You were never the shy type, love.”

Klaus curled his digits, bobbing them up and down my slit, driving me to throw my head back, moaning his name. In two months apart, I was longing to be touched like that again; he had a unique away with his hands that I didn’t fully comprehended but enjoyed either way. However, despite it being incredible, nothing was better than the silky touch of his tongue against the small bundle of nerves in the centre of my legs, kitten licking it.

“Oh, damn…”  

The string of curses that slipped from me only made him more excited, going at such a fast stride that made my mind go all dizzy. I quickly stuck my hands on his curls, pulling his face closer to me, like I was trying to make us one. I wasn’t holding the steering wheel of my actions any more, my instinct was ruling over everything.

Nonetheless, a few moments later, when the knot was about to come undone, he pulled away, his fingers slightly glistening whilst a naughty smirk lied on his plump lips. The action forced a thwarted grunt to rumble on my chest; I was so damn close!

“Come on, kitten, do you really think I would let you go that easily?” His thumb poked my nub and I whined, narrowing my eyes at him. “I told you I am going to make you see how much better I am.”

“Fuck you, Klaus.” The frustration was practically dripping from my voice, which provoked him to laugh as he helped me to stand up straight again. It wasn’t long for me to turn my back to him, walking to my room. “What are you planning, exactly?”

“Oh, darling, I’m going to fuck you.” He whispered, placing a kiss on my shoulder, humming against my skin. “Until you forget your own name.”

“Is that so?” I teased back, grinning and leaning back on his clothed chest. “I can’t say I haven’t missed that.”

“I know you did. Just as much as I was dying to bury myself on you.”

He snorted, leaning in to suck a love bite on my neck then blow hot air on the region, which erupted a mewl alongside a couple of shudders. I could feel the heat grow in the centre of my legs and a dull ache spread, pushing me to rotate my hips, squeezing my thighs to relieve it.

Completely out of the blue, Klaus squeezed me further against the white wall, stealing a surprised gasp from me. After that, he roughly kicked off both his trousers and briefs, his already hardened length hitting my backside with a clap.

“As it appears, darling, it isn’t just me who’s way over excited.”

“It’s no secret what that pussy of yours does to me, Y/N.” I chewed my bottom lip, gazing at him through the corner of my eye, feeling his large hands grasping each of side of my hips, applying a light pressure to it as his cock playfully rubbed my entrance, its tip pulsating against my folds. “And it’s no secret that he has missed you.”

“That’s such-” Afore I could finish my sentence, Klaus sheathed himself inside me with one sharp thrust, making us both groan loudly due to the intimate contact. Fuck, I had missed this so much! “Not fair, Niklaus.”

“Of course it is, sweetheart.”

Sighing, I gave up on the argument, choosing to enjoy the moment instead. He swiftly rose his stride to a faster level, going so fast that I could bet the noisy sound of his skin clapping against mine could be heard outside. My girlish moans as well. However, by this point, I couldn’t care less about my stupid neighbors. So what if they hear me having sex, right?

The blond haired man, fueled by my gentle sighs, snuck a hand to my clit, not hesitating to rub it rough, the tip of his fingers digging the soft flesh. I screwed my eyes shut, for my eyelids were too heavy to stay open, and rolled my hips, deepening the penetration. Under the sensation of my latter action, he grunted, muffling a raspy sound on the crook of my neck.

“Do you like that, love?” Klaus quizzed, intensifying his touch, earning a loud, filled with pleasure, moan from me. “I’ll take that as an yes.”

“Nik…” I purred, pushing my lower half back to meet with his in a heat shock. “I want to look at you when I cum.”

“Well, darling, I don’t know if that’s possible.”

“Do you want me to beg, is that it? Please, please, daddy.”

“Don’t use that voice on me. Nor that word, princess.” His tepid touch slided to the end of my back, eliciting loads of shivers to spread across my form. “You know I can’t resist it.”

“That’s exactly my point, Nik.”

Surrendering to my request, he pulled out, backing away so I could turn. Once I did so, what I found was a handsome looking man staring at me hungrily like I was the last piece of candy on Earth and all he wanted was to get a taste from it.

“You’re so fucking beautiful all naked to me.” He glided his tongue on his lower lip, locking it between his teeth while wrapping his hands on my boobs, squeezing it delicately, his thumbs stroking my peaks. “Call me daddy again.”

“Do you like it when I call you daddy?”

“Very much.” Nibbling on my earlobe, Klaus gripped the back of my thighs, lifting me like I weighed nothing. “Now… Would you do as asked, princess? Beg me to fuck you. Beg to be filled by me. Beg for me to do what you want me to do.”

“Oh, daddy, pretty please!” I cried, lacing my arms around his broad shoulders, wiggling within his embrace. “Help your baby girl ease the ache on her pussy, will you?”

“You make this sound so hot, love.”

“Well, thank you, sir.”

A smug smirk curled his lips as he lined himself up with my entrance, invading me again and not faltering to pound in and out rapidly, slamming me against the wall. He was using so much strength that I knew I would have bruises all over my body the following day.

I was already so close to orgasming that all it took to drive me over the edge was a couple of more hard thrusts, his masculine groans filling the room and the feel of his warm seed spurting inside of me. I broke down yelling his name whilst a blissful sensation spread across my form. It was like being engulfed by the calm waters of a river.

Calmly, a couple minutes later, he straightened myself on his lap and walked us to my bedroom, placing me on the silky mattress.

“So” Klaus queried breathlessly, sitting on the corner of my bed. “Was it enough to prove my point?”

“Fuck.” I mumbled, shaking my head and letting a tired laugh crawl out my lips. “I don’t know. I’m still numb.”

“That’s a good thing, right?”

“Yes, it is, Niklaus.”

“What happened to daddy? Have you lost your manners?”

“That only works when you’re making me cum, not afterwards.”

Klaus was fast to take a place above me, placed in between my legs. His mouth inches away from my own, allowing me to catch the scent of his breath.

“Then I’ll have to teach you a lesson.”

“I guess you’ll have.”

With smile, he kissed me again and I knew, by the way Nik was handling things, this was far from over.

[thecorteztwins]

✍️ Toad with an acolyte that might like him?

(using WATXM so the first-gen Acolytes and second-gen ones can be on the same squad! Also assuming this is for @toadlingscentral. I also wasn’t clear on what “might like him” meant so I went with friendships.)Toad neverbeen lucky enough to know other physically mutated types. Okay, technically there was Blob, but…Fred still looked human. Not a type of human that other humansliked, but still…better fat than a freak.After he’d joined the Acolytes, however, he’d been introduced to Seamus Mellencamp (no codename) and Mortimer Everett (alias Barnacle), both of them physically mutated in…less than attractive ways…and had found companions in them both. Of course, Toad wasn’t friends with themjust for that, he was sure they’d have gotten along fine anyway(especially Barn, he was really nice—and his real name was Mortimertoo!) but  there was a certain unspoken sense of solidarity betweenthem. Without ever having had to talk about it, they knew theyshared certain experiences, certain feelings, certain realities. Theyall understood what it was like to be like them in a way that the others,even the kindest, just couldn’t comprehend. Indeed, Toad actually wondered ifthese two didn’t have it worse than he did. Mellencamp looked even more inhuman than Toad did, frighteningly so, and poor Barn…his mutation had given him dry cracked scabby crusts and scars all over his skin, not to mention a big lumpy abscess that hung over one eye, rendering him half-blind. To top it all off, he also had a speech impediment, possibly from having crusts and scars on the inside too. So yeah, it was hard not for Toad to feel a certain connection with these guys.Not that the other Acolytes were all bad either. Some were bullies, like the Kleinstocks—though atleast unlike Fabian, they didn’t seem to hate him for how he looked,they were just jerks—and some, like Senyaka, were just plainscary….but Milan was great. He looked totally human, but he was a big nerd who the others picked on a lot. This and a shared love of technology connected him and Mort.Amelia Voght was nice enough if not exactly his friend, and Scannerand Neophyte seemed as unsure and nervous as he often was, seen them, and he saw them bossed around and picked on too.And, of course, Anne Marie. She had been the first Acolyte he met, and his first friend among them. She’d always been nice to him, and she never flinched when looking at him, nevergave any sign she was looking at anything strange, be it disgust orpity or the natural nervousness that an appearance like his couldinstinctively incite in people not because they were bad or hatedhim, but just because…people weren’t supposed to look like him.Barnacle had been the one to explain why most people were like that.”It’s called kkkst the Uncanny Valley,” he said, “You and—kkkst—I, we look human, but not human enough. It hits a weird part of the brain that–-kkkst–unnerves people even more than monsters do. That’s why clownsand puppets—kkkst— scare people. They look SIMILAR to humans but withsomething just ‘off’.”He paused to take a drink of water; Barn had to do that a lot when he talked. Then he continued,“They use that in–kkkst–movies, to make people creeped out instead of just ‘oh shit a scary—kkkst—monster!’ like when they see someone like Mellencamp.”Barn paused again, and then finished, “”It’s natural instinct, everyone–kkkst— has it.“Idunno, man Anne Marie doesn’t,” replied Mort, “But that girl ain’t got a lot of anyinstinct, I don’t think”He liked her a lot, she was just a bit…screw loose. But in a good way.

“Shefeels bad for you,” said Mellencamp, putting his claws lightly on Mort’s arm, as if delivering some painful news, which he was,”Some people—especiallywomen—they’ve got this Quasimodo complex. They pity us, they wantto be that one special person who sees past our looks, but theydon’t, not really. They can’t. Like Barn says, it’s instinct. Evensomebody blind wouldn’t like us once they touched us—they can 'see’with their hands, you know. ““Anne Marie’s 'bout as subtle as anaxe to the head”, said Mort,”If she thought we was ugly monsters,she’d say so.”“Kkkkst—she has!” Barnacle exclaimed.

“What?” Mort’s jaw dropped, “You sure you ain’t mixin her up with the OTHER Cortez?”“Fabian?” said Barnacle, “kkkkst—No, he’s—kkkst—cool. As cool as anyone can be, But his sister—well, like you said, blunt as a—kkkst– axe to the head.You’re telling me she really hasn’t said anything to you?”“No! Whatdid she say to you?!”“Well, she walked right up to me when we met and said wow, you look like amonster!” Mellencamp told him, his voice full of understandable resentment.“She started–-kkkst– trying to touch my lump,” Barnacle bemoaned, referring to his forehead abscess, “Like I’m a zooexhibit. The others at least give me a little—kkkst-–respect.”Mortcouldn’t believe what he was hearing. Anne Marie? The sweetest girl inthe world? Scary, sure, but sweet. There must be some kind of misunderstanding. He’d try to clear it up–he didn’t want his friends to fight, and he especially didn’t want these two guys to feel bad! Because boy, he knew what that was like.***”Anne Marie?” Mort asked timidly as he approached her. She was lying on her back on the grass, pedaling her feet in the air, bouncing a ball of them.”Hey, Anne Marie, can I ask ya something? Am I…do you think…am I ugly?””Yeah!” said Anne Marie, without hesitancy, and without cruelty, just casual simplicity, as if he asked if she’d like a soda. As earlier, his jaw dropped. He couldn’t believe it. He hadn’t wanted to believe it. He always usually assumed people thought he was hideous to start, but he’d come to think Anne Marie was different…and that made it hurt so much more than when people like her brother said it. Because Fabian, he was a douchebag in general, but Anne Marie…she was a nice person.So if even nice people thought he was ugly…Tears began to well in his eyes, but it had been a long time since he’dever cried in front of anyone, so he  wouldn’t start now. Without another word, he hopped away fastas his legs could carry him.Anne Marie, oblivious, got to her feet and began bouncing the ball off her knees***Later that week, Mort ventured into the kitchen when Chrome and Frenzy were having a conversation. Usually, Mort just tuned out their discussions like everyone else did. He could seldom follow what they were saying. Mort was not dumb at all, buttheir kind of smart was very different than his kind of smart. He couldn’t help picking up, however, that they were talking about looks, and how people were treated because of them, and he began to listen despite himself. They were saying stuff about…how beauty wasin the eye of the beholder, you aren’t entitled to have people findyou attractive, but also how people see beauty was shaped by a verybigoted culture hence the existing standing of beauty and how thatshould be questioned…“But ultimately, isn’t that juststill playing into the dominant paradigm?” said Chrome, pointing a finger as if to illustrate some invisible diagram,“Like,okay, let’s say the powers that be say that brunettes are ugly andblondes are the best. If the brunettes go, hey, you know what,brunette is beautiful, then they’re still playing the game, they’restill supporting the idea that beauty matters at all. When a lot ofpeople say “fuck your beauty standards” what they actually meanis “include me in them” rather than dismantle them altogether,which is what SHOULD be done. We’re so entrenched in this system,this way of thinking, that we’re trying to get a piece of the piewhen the pie itself is rotten.”“I agree with your pointin theory,” Frenzy returned, “but in the real world, beauty DOES matter in society, and peoplenot considered part of the pretty pie are getting treated like shit forit—-namely, people of color, transgender and gender-nonformingfolks, the disabled, the physically mutated, none of which YOU are, soforgive me if I think it’s really easy for you to say that beautyjust shouldn’t matter to anyone when you have the privilege of it notaffecting you in the first place.”“You know what, that’s a really fairpoint, excellent point,” Chrome admitted, “So, with that in mind, what would you think of—”“She’s right!”Mort burst out without realizing he was even talking until it was too late, throwing his arms up, “You have no idea what it’s like! Either ofyou!”Both of them stared at him, and Mort felt himself shrink. He seldom spoke to either of these Acolytes at all. They were intimidating people. Frenzy was was even bigger than Anne Marie, andunlike Anne Marie, she NEVER looked friendly. Chrome was scary in hisown way too—not because he was big, he was tall but he was as skinny as Mort— because he….he was very handsome, Toad thought, not like amusclebound meathead like the other men here, but like a willowymodel, with a strange sort of striking beauty. And he was…he wasn’tmean in the way like Fabian or the Kleinstocks were, but he was always arguing withpeople, and he always seemed to be right. It made Mort uncomfortable,he didn’t like the conflict, and he didn’t want to ever risk being onthe end of that kind of tongue-lashing. To his surprise though,neither of them told him to shut up. They looked expectant.“Go on,”said Chrome after a moment.“…go on?” Mort squeaked, confused.“Your opinion is relevant”,said Frenzy, “We’d like to hear it.”“I…I…I don’t have an opinion,I just…I just…later!”And he hopped away again.***The next day, as timidly as he had approached Anne Marie, he hobbled up to Chrome in the hallway.“Um, chrome?”Chrome looked at him.“You’re…you’refriends with Anne Marie, right?”Chrome nodded.“Does she….does she think I’mugly?”“Best way to know is to ask her,” Chrome answered, “Anne Marie doesn’t lie. Don’t thinkshe can.”“Yeah, I…I know,” Mort hung his head, “I did ask her.”Chrome regarded Toad thoughtfully for a moment, then asked, “She said said yes, didn’t she?”Toad nodded.“And she probably said it realcasual-like, like it was the simplest thing in the world, am Iright?”Toad nodded again, head still down. Chrome nodded too, but it was more of a thinking nod, and he curled his long thin fingers around his jutting chin as he did. Then he put his hands out in a ‘hear me out’ kind of gesture, his tone matching,“Okay, so—here’s a little thing that’s differentabout Anne Marie. When most people say ugly, they mean bad. Uglinessis culturally linked to evil and inferiority in our society. Like,it’s no fuckin’ coincidence that light skin and straight hair, aka traits associated with white people, getconsidered the prettiest, y'know? And when people say you’re fat,they don’t mean it the same as “you’ve got green eyes” like just another physical trait, they meanyou’re gluttonous and lazy and probably really stupid and gross. All this stuff attached to it. So,you know what Anne Marie means when she says you’re ugly?”Mort whimpered, afraid to hear.“She just means you’re ugly. She doesn’t have avalue judgement attached to it. She doesn’t think ugly things arebad. You know what I was saying, about how we need to embrace aworldview in which beauty, be it societally defined beauty or our ownpersonal definition, does not matter beyond who you’re choosing to fuck? Anne Marie is already doingthat and she ain’t even trying. You know what she means when she saysyou’re ugly? Just that she wouldn’t sleep with you.  Andshe doesn’t wanna sleep with MOST guys, so don’t go feeling specialfor that.”Mort looked up at last,  “But…Barnacle and Mellencamp…”Chrome winced, “Oh yeah, that. Yeah, even I wanted to slap her for that one, though I gotta respect her candor—or I would, if it was something I thought she tried at instead of just, like I said, how she is. But yeah, no, those guys, if they’re mad at her, they got every right. Her delivery is totally disrespectful, she has no idea how her wordsaffect people and she should really fucking work on that. So I’m notgonna tell you, oh, you can’t be hurt because she didn’t mean to hurtyou. Someone fucking opens a door into my nose, doesn’t matter ifthey didnt mean to, it HURTS. But what I mean is…the real reasonsyou might feel bad when people say ugly, because of all the things theyMEAN by it—that you’re bad or inferior or not worthy of love orwhatever—they aren’t attached to it when she says it. She just sayswhat she sees.”“I just…I thought she liked me?”“You think saying you’re ugly means she doesn’t like you? Anne Marie loveslots of ugly things!” Chrome threw his long skinny arms out the sides for emphasis, “Man this one time she showed me these weird newts, and she said they were so ugly, and shesaid it the way most people say cute! Look, I’m not gonna tell you how tofeel, or what to do. That’s your choice. Just, if I were in your shoes–flippers, whatever—I’d go back to her and ask the right questions thistime. For your sake, man.”***”Anne Marie?”Mort had poked his head into her room. She was on her bed, curling in on herself, trying to bite the waistband of her underwear.��Uh huh?” she said, continuing her attempts.“Do you…like me?”“Yeah!” she said happily.“Are wefriends?”“Yeah!”“Would you…ever have sex with me?” He didn’t WANT her too, and he didn’t want her to think he wanted her to, but he remembered what Chrome had said about that, so….“Nope!”“DoI…gross you out?”“Nah!”“But I’m ugly?”“Yeah.”“Isthat…bad?”“Nah” she sat upright properly and beamed at him, “You’re really good.”Mort smiled back at her,

“Youknow, you’re really good too.”

[narniaandplowmen]

Kristanna + "I'll love you till my breathing stops" (it's song lyrics from Writer in the Dark by Lorde!)

send me an ask with a sentence+otp and I’ll write a little drabble about it.

now also on AO3

3055 words

—

“Anna, NO!” Kristoff’s desperate voice echoed through the room of ice as he ran towards the brunette on the floor. It had all gone by so fast. Anna had entered the castle looking for her sister, but what she found was just a monster of ice and snow. An evil witch, disguised to look like the future Queen of Arendelle. Kristoff slid to a halt next to the princess. “No, no, nononono-” 

The last thing Anna could remember was a bright white light, and then nothing but cold. Endless, icy cold. In the distance, she could hear her name being shouted by an unfamiliar voice. Or not? It was difficult to hear, difficult to think. It was so, so cold. “E-Elsa?” She managed to ask, or more accurately, sigh. That was what she could remember. Her sister, gone. She thought- What had she thought when she entered- What had she entered? So cold.

“Anna, Anna, can you hear me? Get up. Please, get up! We have to get out of here.” Kristoff grabbed the fragile woman by the waist, easily lifting her from the ground. “Elsa?” Kristoff heard her whisper. “No, this is Kristoff. Stay with me Anna, stay with me.” He turned to face the icy demon that stood laughing in the middle of the frozen castle’s ballroom. “Oh how sad, you love her.” The dark-haired witch said, mockingly. “Well then, farm boy. Go ahead and try to save your pretty princess. What are you waiting for, I won’t stop you. I have everything I need.” The witch turned around and left, holding the cape Anna had been wearing just minutes ago.

So. Cold. Everything around her was black. No, blue. Very dark blue. She heard- voices? People shouting. Yes, voices. Anna struggled to open her eyes, She seemed to be on a boat. No, she was looking down on one. On a ship in peril. A storm was raging, and it was so, so cold. The men on the boat kept shouting. “Lower the sails!” The sails. She recognised a sign painted on them, but could not fully remember where from. But no matter how hard the sailors worked, it was in vain. A giant wave crashed upon the ship and it disappeared from sight.

“Run Sven. Faster!” Kristoff couldn’t count the amount of times he had told his trusted reindeer this in the last few minutes. SOmehow he had gotten out of the castle, somehow the witch hadn’t stopped them from leaving. “Faster!” He held Anna to his chest, removing his own cloak and wrapping it around the princess as the reindeer ran on and on. Kristoff didn’t need to tell him where to go, for it was clear only the trolls could help them now. “No…” He heard the quiet voice he had gotten so used to in the few days they had travelled together. “No! Mum? Dad?” “Anna! Anna? Can you hear me?” But Anna just frowned and shivered.

–

“Let me go!” The Queen of Arendelle looked regal, even with the chains that bound her to the floor. “Oh no, my dear. That wouldn’t nearly be as much fun.” the woman who entered the cell answered. “Why would I let you go if your kingdom doesn’t know yet what you’ve done?” She threw the cloak down for Elsa to see. “Anna! What did you do to my sister?” “Oh don’t worry darling. She isn’t dead.” The woman turned and walked out of the cell, seemed to think for a bit and faced Elsa again. “At least not yet.”

–

It was dark again, and, though Anna could barely think it possible, even colder. Then, she heard laughing. It sounded like children, playing, having fun. Suddenly she was standing in a ballroom of a castle. Somehow it felt familiar, like a home. One of the big doors open and two children sneak in, giggling and shushing each other. “Come on, come on, come on!” The younger one shouts. “Are you ready?” The older one whispers in return whilst Anna looks on. They do not seem to see her as the ballroom turns white with ice and snow and the two children play. The scene seems familiar, as from a story in a book she once read. The children seem familiar as well, but Anna cannot recall why or when or how she met them. The youngest girl jumps and plays and looks in awe at the oldest sister who makes snow appear right before their very eyes. “Faster, faster!” Suddenly it all comes rushing back to Anna as she looks. This was her, that was Elsa. “No!” She tries to warn the children, warn her past self but it is too late. A flash of white and everything turns to black again.

“Granpabbie? Is there anything you can do?” Kristoff looks pleadingly at the man, troll, who raised him. The old wise rock-like creature hunches over Anna as he examines her. and slowly shakes his head. With a flick of his wrist, a vision appears in the night sky. “Long ago, there was a kingdom quite near us whose princess was born during the shortest day of the year. Not only this, but at the day of her birth the land was covered in darkness, for the moon had covered the sun and absorbed all of its light. And thus, the princess was born with the magic powers of ice and snow.” The vision changed. “The princess was vain but ugly, so she created a mirror that would show her how she saw herself, beautiful and powerful. But when a handsome palace guard did not return her feelings of love, she broke the mirror. The shards of the mirror made her more powerful than she ever was before.” Granpabbie sighed and the vision disappeared. “More powerful than me. I’m sorry Kristoff, there is nothing I can do.” “There must be something, anything!” The wise troll shook his head. “I cannot do anything. But there is one warmth that can melt any frozen heart: True Love.” “True love? That’s it!” Kristoff got up. “Her fiance!”

The dark was replaced with light again. Now, she saw herself. Anna was surprised she recognised herself, as everything else was so vague, and so cold. She was talking with what seemed to be a man, but there was something off about him. He was so cold, so incredibly cold. Colder than Anna felt right now, colder than she could ever imagine. Her past self did not seem to notice the freezing however. She laughed and danced and talked and looked happy. Anna followed the pair through the darkness that surrounded them. They seemed to see where they were standing, confident in their steps, but all Anna could see was darkness around them, like they were dancing in nothing. Suddenly, the man was on his knees, asking her past self something. She seemed enthusiast, but all Anna could feel was an ice cold stab of someone else’s victory in her heart.

By the time Kristoff arrived at the castle doors, the body he was carrying seemed more dead than alive. If it was not for the very slow and shallow heartbeat he could feel against his chest, he would be convinced he was carrying the corpse of the princess of Arendelle. Her face was white and her first so lively brown hair had turned grey. “Is anyone there?! Please, I need help! I need to talk to-” Kristoff paused for a moment to think. “Hans. The fiance of the princess?” The door opened slightly, and then fully as the people on the other side recognised the body the strong blonde was carrying. Gasps of shock and whispered questions could be heard as running footsteps got closer. “Who are you?” A demanding voice sounded. “What did you do to the princess?”  “She got hit by ice magic, she needs true love’s kiss.” Kristoff tried to explain, but too many people were looking at him, too many people staring. The limp body he had been carrying was suddenly removed from his arms and carried away by guards. “Find Hans” Kristoff managed to shout, before the castle doors closed in front of him and he was alone again.

–

The cell doors were opened again, and Elsa straightened her back. She could not wipe away her tears, for her arms were still chuffed, but she could at least have some composure. “What do you want.” the Queen asked, angrily. “Where is Anna? Let me go!” The figure that opened the door stepped into the light. The witch was tall and pale and her eyes had no colour. The clothes she wore were blue and rich and luxurious, with glimmering diamonds covering her dress. One diamond stood out, however. A gleaming brooch on her left breast. She seemed more dead than alive. “If I cannot have the person I love, neither can you.” The witch simply said. “Oh,” She added, as in some sort of an afterthought. “Your sister is dead.”

–

The darkness stayed dark. And the cold stayed cold. The silence stayed a silence. Anna did not know whether her eyes were open or closed, whether she had a body or not, whether she was alive or- No, she did not want to think that word. She felt her body, being carried, heaved over, carried again. She felt the couch she was placed on. She felt a single kiss on her lips, but she knew it was not meant for it only made her colder and colder. The darkness was so dark. The cold was so cold. She felt her heartbeat fade. Anna felt nothing.

A thunderous sound and an enormous explosion. In the distance, Kristoff saw snow flying in the air, trees and rocks with it. Never had he seen such force before. He had seen his fair share of avalanches and ice-related accidents, but never this. He never could have imagined this. Once some of the impact had faded away, he suddenly realised he had been there before. “Sven, run!” And for what seemed like the hundredth time today, the reindeer ran towards the horizon. 

–

Sadness. Intense sadness. And anger, burning and raging and bigger than herself. Elsa felt her powers grow with her anger until she could not contain it anymore. She screamed, shouted, exploded. Everything around her turned into bright white. When the light finally faded, she was standing in the ruins what was once a castle made of ice. Broken trees and rocks swept up in the explosion of snow surrounded her. “WITCH!” Elsa shouted, her voice echoing over the newly created glade. In the distance, some of the ice moved. Elsa started walking towards it, her anger, her sorrow, her sadness, her regrets growing again. Out of the snow climbed the ice witch, obviously surprised. “YOU KILLED MY SISTER. NOW YOU WILL DIE TOO.” Elsa’s heart was burning, so intently burning. her parents were gone, now her sister was gone. Her country would never want a Queen as her, as monstrous as her. There was nothing left, nothing to live for except making that witch pay for what she’d done. Pay for making her angry at the coronation, pay for revealing her ice powers, pay for capturing her and murdering her sister. Elsa raised her arms and struck.

–

When Kristoff arrived at the site where the castle used to be he could barely believe his eyes. Ultimate destruction was in front of him, with in the middle a raging Queen and a terrified witch, standing on the edge of a cliff. “QUEEN ELSA!” Kristoff shouted. The woman did not seem to hear him, instead driving the witch to the edge of the cliff. “WAIT!” “She KILLED my SISTER!” No. No. Anna could not be dead. He had brought her to the castle, brought her to her true love Hans. Kristoff refused to believe, could not believe- The Queen stuck again, leaving the terrified witch only one step away from certain death. Kristoff looked at the spectacle in fear, in worry. He remembered the tales Anna had told him of her sister on their adventure. The tales of her kindness, of the fun they had, of how much she admired the new Queen. “Would your sister have wanted you to do this?” Elsa looked up at these words. “What do you know of my sister?” 

–

The stranger looked back at her in surprise, seemingly not knowing an answer. “I-” he started, “I- I love her.” The stranger seemed surprised by his own words as if he only now realised it. “And I heard her talk about you. She loved you. She looked up to you.” the stranger continued. “She wouldn’t want you to do this.” Elsa lowered her hands and turned to face him. Suddenly, her sadness overpowered her anger and saw the destruction around her. She looked down at her hands. “I caused this?”

–

“QUE-” Kristoff didn’t even have the time to finish his word when the small explosion sounded. The witch had made use from the distraction and crawled up, now attacking the Queen. Everything went so fast Kristoff didn’t realise they happened until it was all done. Elsa had created some sort of ice shield, reflecting the attack and hitting the witch right in her heart. Kristoff carefully walked towards the edge of the cliff. Deep, deep down he could see a body, the clothes in clear contrast with the white snow. He turned to face the Queen, who looked in shock at her hands. “I killed someone.” She whispered. “I killed someone.”

–

Everything was a haze. From the moment she had killed, oh dear God she had killed, the ice witch, the stranger had dragged her with him on his reindeer. They had speeded over the mountain, back to the castle she grew up in. She vaguely heard the stranger talking to her. Something about a fiance, true love, trolls. It all did not make sense to her. She just stared into the distance, thinking of the body on the bottom of the cliff. She had killed someone. Actually killed someone. 

Elsa barely noticed that they had arrived at the castle. She didn’t hear her subjects cheer for her when the stranger announced the heroic actions of the Queen and the death of the evil witch. She didn’t realise herself being ushered inside. She didn’t understand her advisors when they were telling her how they had caught a usurper, planning to marry into the royal family and take over the throne. She only woke up from her trance when she saw the lifeless body of her sister, laying on her bed. “ANNA! NO!” 

–

Kristoff listened to the story of the advisors in shock. Hans had been a betrayer. He had not loved Anna. Anna was dead. Anna was dead. Anna was- He could not believe it. The young woman who had teased him, who seemed so lively, who had been so enthusiast and naive and kind was no more. He was lead to a room, together with the Queen who seemed to be in a constant state of shock, waking out of it when she saw her sister. “ANNA! NO!” The heart-wrenching cry echoed through the room as the Queen lost all her remaining dignity and hugged her sister tight.

It was so cold. So endlessly cold. How long had it been cold? She could not remember. Was she a she? She couldn’t remember that either. Who was she? What was she? She tried to shrug the doubt away, but she couldn’t move. So cold. So cold.But- not cold anymore. What was that? She felt something. Something radiating. The word for it was on the tip of her tongue, but yet it did not seem to come to mind. She just basked in the feeling. Yes, she was a she. She knew now. And what she felt was warmth. It had been so long since she felt warmth. Since she Anna, for she now remembered that was her name, felt warmth. Sound. She could now also hear sound. She couldn’t identify what it was, for Anna was too distracted by the feeling of warmth. But there certainly was sound. Crying perhaps? Why would anyone be crying? It was so nice and warm. And light. Anna gasped for air.

–

Movement. Elsa felt movement under her. She looked up, surprised, wiped away the tears. “Anna?” “Elsa?” “ANNA! You’re alive!” “I’m- I’m alive.” Her sister sounded amazed at this as well, but Elsa didn’t care. “Oh Anna, I am so sorry. I’m so sorry.” “What for?” her sister replied with a weak smile. “I wasn’t there for you, I shut you out, I didn’t believe you and I hit you with my magic and I kept secrets and-” Elsa started rambling. “And I’m so sorry.” “You’re here now.” Anna smiled weakly. And the two sisters hugged and cried.

–

It took weeks before Kristoff could finally find a moment to speak with Anna alone. She was still weak, and in bed, but she was impatient to get out of it. “Kristoff!” She sounded happy to welcome him in. “Finally someone. I am bored out of my wits here, stuck in bed.” Kristoff entered the room and closed the door behind him. “How are you?” “I should ask you that.” he replied. “I’m fine. I just-” Anna looked at him, thinking. “I just don’t really know what happened. And no one wants to tell me. The last thing I remember was- I was with you. And with Sven. And, trolls?” She looked at him desperately. “Nothing makes sense. I was so cold. And then suddenly I was warm again and Elsa was crying. And I don’t know what happened. Everyone keeps insisting we’re safe and the witch is gone but-”  Kristoff nodded, sat down, and started his story.

–

Anna looked in awe at the man in front of her. He did all that? For her? The room was silent for a while after Kristoff finished his story. “Why?” Anna broke the silence. “Why did you do all that? Why did you go through the trouble to save me? And why did you go back for Elsa? Why- Just, why?” The blonde man seemed to avoid her gaze when he answered. “I’ll love you till my breathing stops.”

———-

okay so I don’t know what on earth happened there but hey I wrote this. It kinda got out of hand, I’m sorry. I didn’t really know how to incorporate the actual sentence in the story that was inspired by that sentence so therefore the crappy ending. But see it as the sentence being the entire story. Anna’s breathing actually stopped but Elsa and Kristoff still love her. Or something. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it! And thanks for sending me the prompt! I loved writing this.

[seriouslyhooked]

Just a Taste (A CS AU) Part 1/10

AU where Emma and Killian are contestants on the Great American Baking Show and all twelve contestants hail from Storybrooke Maine. In this AU Emma is a book editor by day, while Killian is an architect who just moved to town a few months prior. Expect baked goods, flirtatious interactions, a little drama and a whole lot of fluff with a guaranteed HEA for Captain Swan. Rated M.

A/N: After some careful consideration I decided to make ‘Just a Taste’ my next story to republish. My main reason for this is that I need another baking fic in my life right now. So whether this is your first time reading, or you’re a long time fan of CS fluff meeting the ‘Great British Baking Show’ I hope you enjoy and thanks so much for reading!

If you had told Emma Swan a month ago, that her favorite TV show arguably ever was going to make an American version, that might not have surprised her. The Great British Baking Show was a hit, both back across the pond and now in America. What did surprise her was that the American version was making a twist, and that twist was to only use competitors from one hometown each season. The first season was to take place in Storybrooke, Maine, the small hamlet where Emma lived, and that… well that was crazy.

Up to this point, nothing of note had ever happened in Storybrooke, and local news never got more exciting than a passing family of moose, or the addition of a new baby to the town’s ranks. Easily the most exciting thing that had happened in the years Emma had lived here was when the factory that made hot cocoa mix a town over had a spill and all of Storybrooke smelled of chocolate for two whole weeks. No one had been hurt, the damage was minimal, and yet it was all anyone could speak of for months.  

Yet no longer could anyone claim that nothing ever happened here, because over the past few weeks, Storybrooke had become consumed with the rabid buzzing of TV crews and potential competition. The rules were clear, one had to live in Storybrooke Maine for at least six months prior to the shows taping. Other than that, anyone over the age of eighteen could compete for the title of… best baker in town? In retrospect, the title seemed kind of pointless, but Emma knew that people were taking this seriously. With twelve bakers in the race, the town was divided between who would win, and who deserved the crown, or in this case the dish. As one of those finalists, Emma was already feeling the pressure, and she’d only just set foot in the big white tent where she’d be baking.

“I really hope this doesn’t ruin the franchise for me,” she said out loud, not realizing that anyone was around until a deep, accented voice responded.

“My thoughts exactly, love.”

Emma turned to find Killian Jones, Storybrooke��s newest resident, who she’d only really seen in passing standing behind her. Despite barely knowing her new neighbor, her heart skipped a beat when her green eyes locked with his blue ones, and she wondered how someone could have this magnetic pull over her. Maybe it was the dark hair that she wanted to run her fingers through, or the way that his smile seemed to tick up to one side. Perhaps it was the accent, or the thoughtful sort of look he had any time they crossed paths. Emma watched as he extended his hand in greeting, and she met it gladly.

“I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced. Killian Jones, at your service.”

“Emma Swan,” She replied and he grinned at that.

“I know.”

Emma raised a brow and couldn’t help but smile, but just as she was about to ask him what he meant with his flirtatious tone, the ten others who were competing came barreling into the room, led by one of the shows production assistants.

“Were we not supposed to be here yet?” Emma whispered and Killian shook his head.

“Apparently not.”

As the others filed in, Emma saw two of her best friends, Mary Margaret Blanchard and Belle French who had also made it to the final twelve people.  While both women looked inclined to come near her, the PA’s wrangled them to their designated stations and then addressed the group. Filming would be commencing shortly, and the first step was introduction to the judges.

“Prepare yourself for a big difference between camera and off-camera personas. We ask that you respect the personal space of our panel, and our hosts.”

The small woman named Tink who spoke pushed the glasses she wore farther up her face as she carefully selected her words. She was the picture of efficiency, and Emma had seen her running around handling chaos at every turn in the auditions and now. It was very impressive, but Emma didn’t envy her. Tink had so much energy, that when she moved about, it was like watching a hummingbird fly, fascinating, but seemingly crazed with how much effort was required.

“So they’re bloody horrible, then?” Killian asked aloud and Emma bit her lip to keep from smiling outright. That was clearly what the young blonde PA was grappling with. Tink looked flustered and blushed as a tall man stepped into the room with his hands across his chest smirking at Killian. He dwarfed Tink in size, appearing well over six feet next to her modest frame.

“Enough of that, Killian. But as a matter of fact, some of them are. Heed Tink’s warning and save yourself the unpleasantness. Now –“

“And you would be?” Catherine Parker asked flirtatiously. Emma made eye contact with Mary Margaret across the room and mimicked a gagging motion that had her pixie-haired friend giggling and Catherine glaring at her, but Emma didn’t care. The woman was vile, and yet somehow was dating one of the town’s nicest men, David Nolan.

“Liam Jones, EP.”

This was surprising indeed, yet when Emma considered, she could see the similarities between Killian and this man calling the shots. Aside from the accents, both men were good looking, with dark hair and nice eyes. Though in all truth, Emma had to admit she liked Killian more. Just thinking as such had her tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. She felt like a girl again, all nervous and crushing on some guy she barely knew.

“You’re related to the Brit? How is that fair?!” This came from Leroy, the unofficial town crier and world’s most dedicated gossip. He loved to play the victim, build up the drama, and then cower and run in the face of actual confrontation. Emma thought it highly possible that he had been selected for the show based on those tendencies, because his trial bakes seemed questionable at best and grotesque at worst.

“Seeing as I have no control over the judge’s decisions, it’s completely fair, Leroy. Now, there isn’t a minute to waste. The sun in high enough and the set team has prepped, so let’s get going.” With that, Liam was off, with Tink just behind him and Emma looked over to Killian and smirked.

“So you’re the reason they chose us for this.”

Emma watched as a cute little blush spread across his cheeks, and it made no dent in how handsome he was. She allowed herself another moment to admire him, trying to convince herself that she could look now and steel herself against him once the cameras were there. His dark hair had gotten longer since he’d first moved to town, and now a lock of it had fallen to his forehead. Emma wanted to push it back into place, and ended up balling her hands into little fists to keep that inclination in check. Again she wondered how someone could endear her to them so quickly.

Before he could reply, the cameras were in motion and Emma felt the strangeness of the situation. Four different crews worked simultaneously, catching a whole host of angles in what seemed like barely organized chaos. Liam gave out his orders into a headset, and though they were whispered low enough that Emma couldn’t hear them, she thought they’d still have a bit of bark to them. The man practically exuded authority; there would be no silent entreaties from him, but his methods seemed to work. In the span of a few minutes they’d gotten some stock footage of each contestant, which was no easy feat.

Aside from Emma herself, Killian (who Emma knew from word around town was an architect), Leroy, Catherine, Mary Margaret, and Belle, the final twelve included a range of characters. There was Catherine’s boyfriend David, a real saint by all accounts for her dealt with her terrible temper and meaner qualities in stride. He was the town lawyer, and Emma’s guess was that in such a post, one ran into a whole host of personality types. Beside him was Tiana, a waitress at Granny’s who was both hard working and sincere and just before them was Lance, one of the deputies to the sheriff. Then there was Archie, who was a grief counselor, Robin who was a single Dad and the town’s only contractor, and Ella who was a stay at home Mom and very nice if still painfully shy.

All in all, it was a pretty good representation of the town, though there was one clear demographic missing, for not a one of the gaggle of gossips (a band of elderly women who frequented Granny’s) was there. That was because they were all running the betting ring that was consuming the town as they waited for intel on the show. Yup, this was Storybrooke, a place where the illegal betting rings were run by the AARP crowd. America was in for a real treat.

Into the tent at that moment strutted a tall brunette dressed to kill and donning four inch heels as if they were nothing more than slippers, and a man who stood another five or six inches above her with light brown hair and a handsome face. Emma recognized the former as her friend Ruby Lucas, and she nearly called out to see what the heck Ruby was doing here, but a worried Tink stomped down that inclination with a stern shake of her head to Emma. The man was still a stranger, but his face was familiar even if Emma couldn’t quite place him.

“Graham Huntsman is a judge on this show?!” Catherine’s grating voice sounded from the back of the tent, and though her instinct was to roll her eyes, Emma was glad that she hadn’t, because watching Tink’s reaction was so much better.

The small blonde looked near bursting, and was clearly unimpressed with Catherine. If Emma didn’t know her to be loyal to Liam, she’d have expected Tink to shame Catherine from here to Sunday, but as it was, she bit her tongue and moved her attention back to the iPad in front of her. His name had sparked her memory though, and Emma returned her gaze to Graham, a man who had been on another show to try and find love, only then deciding none of the girl’s were his perfect match.

“Yeah he is, Parker, so do us all a favor and shut that trap of yours before you embarrass the town further.” Ruby’s words were too much, and now Emma, Belle, and Mary Margaret were laughing so hard that they were shaking with it. They all three tried to keep quiet, but it was hard to do so, especially when looking back to Ruby and Graham, the latter of whom was blown over by the comment and looking at Ruby with newfound respect.

“If we’re quite done, let’s get the ball rolling shall we? Ruby, Graham you’re up.” He motioned to the camera beside him and Graham and Ruby both lit up with a happy smile.

“Hello and welcome to the Great Storybrooke Baking Show!” Ruby looked so excited as she said the words, while Graham feigned distress beside her.

“Um, no, Ruby, not quite. It’s actually the Great American Baking Show. We’ve just picked your town for the first season.” Ruby rolled her eyes.

“Ignore him, he’s new to this. As I was saying, we have got twelve competitors rearing to go, fighting to see who will be the next King or Queen of this small town in Maine.”

“Again, not what we’re doing here. Back me up on this guys,” there was general murmuring from the crew and a victorious smile from Graham. “And while you are right that we have twelve eager contestants ready to show us their skills in the kitchen, none of them will become royalty.”

“So what’s the take? Is it money? A new kitchen? A lifetime supply of cake?” Ruby asked and Graham shook his head, looking back at the camera.

“To be quite honest, it’s a dish and bragging rights. Oh, and if this show does well enough, hopefully the love of the American people.”

Emma placed a hand over her mouth as she watched the scene unfolding before her. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought that all of this was off the cuff, completely free styled, but it wasn’t. Whoever was writing this was doing a good job, it was funny and light and actually kind of true to the humor of the two women who hosted the show overseas.

Ruby and Graham went on and eventually made their way through the tent to a designated spot so that the camera crews could do a sweeping shot of all the contestants. Emma didn’t know whether to smile or stay neutral, and she nervously tucked another lock of hair behind her ear. Yet soon enough that take was over and they were moving on to the judges’ introduction. It was kind of exhausting to be honest, all of the setup. Maybe it was naïve of her, but Emma had kind of hoped to just come, bake, do some sort of ten minute testimonial style interview after for the editing room and get home, but this was an unaccounted for time suck.

When the judges were finally brought in, Emma was surprised again to see that one of the judges (there were three in this version of the show instead of the usual two) was another familiar face. Ruby’s Grandmother who everyone just called Granny, the owner of the local diner, was dressed fancier than Emma had ever seen her and was clearly just as excited as her granddaughter about her new position. That she was sandwiched between two people who Emma did recognize was too much to handle.

“Contestants, it’s time to meet the judges you’ll be working to impress over the next few weeks.” Graham said happily. “The first needs no introduction. Known to the culinary world simply as Mr. Gold, he owns nearly a dozen high scale restaurants, including Dark Side Snacks in New York, this year’s hottest spot. He’s written three books, worked with the world’s top bakers, and has ranked as CakeBake magazine’s Master of Cake’s three years running.”

Every contestant clapped for the man in question, who though clearly qualified to be here, could barely smile for the cameras. His long hair spoke of not caring, his suit was expensive but a bit too flashy, and he carried a cane for no noticeable limp. He looked so severe and so unimpressed, it left a bit of a sinking feeling in Emma’s stomach.

Something she’d liked so much about the original show was that the Brits kept it light and airy. Though they didn’t reward bad bakes, they also didn’t look like being there was torture. This all of a sudden felt more like an Americans singing competition. Yet, Ruby’s introduction helped lighten things a bit.

“And of course, ‘her majesty’ the lovely and talented Regina Mills. She is a co founder of the now nationally branded chain Wicked Bites, is a New York Times best selling author of the Royal Recipes series, and is the face of The Food Station with not one, not two, but three shows on the network. She’s agreed to join us through some sort of magic it seems, for really, who has the time to be so accomplished?”

Regina laughed at that, and though Emma could tell it was fake and for the cameras, it worked and would play better on the show than whatever Gold had done. Regina understood her image and her brand, and this poised almost calculating good humor, coupled with her ‘no-hair out of place’ appearance was a part of that.

“We also have this season’s ‘Regional Consultant.’ Known by the people of Storybrooke just as Granny, and determined to keep the moniker, she’s the owner of the town’s diner, and in many ways the glue that binds Storybrooke together. Show of hands, how many of you are regulars at Granny’s?” The cameras panned over the contestants, all of who were raising their hands and Granny smiled happily. “Full disclosure, she is also my grandmother, and the reason I couldn’t try out for this competition.” Ruby joked.

“No, my dear, the reason you couldn’t try out is you are a disaster in the kitchen,” Granny quipped.

“Also true. Now, without further ado, let’s get to today’s challenges.” Only despite Ruby’s words, they didn’t get straight to work. The camera’s needed readjusting, and as they worked, Granny said something to Regina who was receptive if a little cool in her answer.

“No I’ve never been to Maine. So far it seems… quaint, but pretty.” That was good enough for Granny, who always tried to sketch out a person’s character on their first meeting. So when she looked over to Gold and asked his thoughts, she was in for a far less favorable reading.

“Look lady, I’m going to be honest with you when I say that this job is entirely about a check and bit of PR polishing. Call one too many people a fuck-up on video, and you start to lose your public sparkle. So for the next ten weeks, I may bite back my nuggets of truth, but know that I find this entire show a fiasco of the highest caliber and a thorough waste of my valuable time. Now hopefully you can take a hint and will refrain from speaking to me for the rest of this.”

“Do you think he meant to use all those gold puns, or was that an accident?” Belle huffed under her breath, but Gold seemed to hear her. He sent a glare her way, but she merely smiled back, daring him to throw his salt and bitterness her way. It was an amazing sight to see, and Emma couldn’t have been prouder or more impressed with her friend.

“Well in order to get that check, we need an actual show, so if we’re quite ready, let’s move on.” Liam motioned the cameras once more, and they focused on Ruby and Graham who stood before the bakers with their instructions.

“Bakers, the task before you is simple: create a cake in ninety minutes with at least three layers and two filling variants. Your time begins… now.”

As a small bell chimed, the kitchen went from stagnant expectation to fully mobile, with everyone working towards the task at hand. For this signature challenge and the one to come tomorrow, they were allowed to prep in advance, so this should be easy. The hard part would be a few hours from now, when Emma had half a recipe to go off of to make something that she’d probably never heard of.

“It would be a bloody embarrassment to mess this one up, eh Swan?” Emma looked over to Killian and nodded without saying anything. She was surprised that he’d once again said exactly what she was thinking.

“Killian, it appears you’re making friends already.” Ruby remarked, as she came up with Graham beside her and one of the camera crews to ask him about his intended cake.

“Are we to assume you’re the town loner?” Graham asked skeptically and Killian shook his head before responding.

“Not intentionally, though being new to the area does have its drawbacks. Still, a competitive bakeoff seems as good a way as any to meet people.”

Killian looked back at Emma and their eyes caught. She smiled before turning back to her own work, though she listened as Killian outlined his wild berry circle cake that would incorporate blueberries, blackberries and raspberries in one confection with a basic white base. Emma liked the idea a lot, and hoped she’d get a chance to try it later. He’d been smart to choose fruit that were in season. The freshness would make for an excellent treat.

When they were done with Killian, Ruby and Graham made their way around the room, and Emma felt herself relax into her own course of action. She worked diligently to combine the flavors just so, and make sure she had everything timed out as she needed. She was making a mocha latte cake, based off a recipe she’d been working with through most of the winter. It was her favorite drink, aside from cocoa, and in cake form it was out of this world. Her design was split into three distinct segments – the white cake infused with a minimal amount of espresso, a layer of chocolate frosting, and a layer of coffee frosting, then covered in both frostings mixed together. It was always a hit wherever she brought it, but still, Emma was worried, she didn’t want to lose points for a stupid oversight, so needed to take her time.

“What you got there?” Ruby asked causing Emma to startle and nearly drop the cakes before they went in the oven, but she recovered and then threw a look up to Ruby. “Sorry, Ems. My bad.”

Emma just smiled and waved her friend off and explained the cake’s intention to the hosts as she set to making the frosting – She had three huge containers, one with each flavor variety, and while the cakes were on the cooling rack, she would set them to cool in the fridge, but for now, she mostly answered questions about her life and hobbies.

“So when did you start baking?” Emma didn’t even need to think, she knew instantly.

“In college. I didn’t ever have a place to try before that, but I always liked the idea. You know, every kid wants the smell of chocolate chip cookies when they walk through the door. I decided to make that for myself.”

“What, your Mom wasn’t the baking type?”

“I wouldn’t know. Never met her. But it doesn’t matter, because I am the baking type,” Emma said, “and if I’m still here the week we make cookies, everyone else is in serious trouble.”

Ruby had looked like she might pass out at Graham’s question, since she knew about Emma’s past as a foster kid, but the look of pride in her friend’s eyes now was true and sincere. Emma had handled the question with grace, not making herself a victim or coldly refusing to reply. She’d done a marvelous job, and to celebrate that, she allowed herself a taste of some of the mocha frosting.

“If your reaction is anything to go off of, love, we should all be very afraid for this challenge too.” Killian’s words pulled Emma from her internal reverie over the chocolate and she grinned playfully.

“Hey, you said it, not me.” Ruby and Graham lingered just a moment longer before returning to the others as Emma moved her frostings to the group fridge neatly labeled with her name. They’d sit for fifteen minutes, to give her enough time to have the cakes cool and the frosting to get to the desired consistency. She passed the time, checking in on Mary Margaret and Belle and seeing they were on their way to some good-looking cakes too.

The problem came when she returned to the fridge. Emma arrived at the same time as Catherine, and watched as the blonde saw her approach and then ‘accidentally’ knocked over one of Emma’s containers of frosting. The contents fell to the ground, spilling out and ruined in the blink of an eye. The room went silent, and Emma felt all of their eyes and the camera’s turned to her and Catherine who had a shit-eating grin on her face.

“Oops, sorry about that, Emma. But good thing you made extra right?”

Breathe, Emma. Ripping this woman’s hair out on national television will get you nowhere. Emma stepped forward and took her two remaining frostings and whispered low to Catherine.

“Bring it. Whatever insecure, asinine moves you’ve got, I can handle.”

Then Emma turned on her heel and proceeded to silently freak out. She most certainly did not have enough frosting for everything, and she didn’t have enough time to chill another batch, which was necessary. She paced back and forth, trying to come up with something. She felt her friend’s and Killian’s eyes tracking her but she continued to move about, needing an idea and fast. When she had it, she set to work immediately.

The clock was running down and time was precious, but in the end Emma created a satisfactory replacement for the frosting – a sweet cream glaze that covered the cake with a sprinkle of cocoa on top. While the appearance wasn’t as pristine as she’d hoped, the taste would still be stellar, of that Emma was sure. Just as she stepped away from her cake, the buzzer sounded and time was called.

“Bakers that does it for this round. Step away from your creations and take a breath, you’ve made it through the first challenge.” Everyone applauded politely, but Emma just wanted this judging cycle over. She had just gone from a top contender, to a wild card, and that was a stressful thing, even if they were essentially playing for nothing.

The judges were called, making their rounds through the tent to see what worked and what didn’t. The reviews were mixed. For some, like Tiana, who Emma was somewhat friendly with, they were glowing, while for others, like Leroy, they were bordering on insulting, yet most people stayed in the middle with both compliments and complaints. When they finally reached Emma, it was Regina who spoke first.

“Miss Swan, seems you’ve provided a less… traditional circle cake.” Emma nodded and tried to smile through her frustration.

“A mix up with some frosting, unfortunately, but when does a bake ever truly go perfectly?”

The other woman smiled at Emma’s joke, while Mr. Gold looked less than impressed with the façade of the cake and Granny looked down right murderous at Catherine. She no doubt had heard what happened. It wasn’t until they were cutting into the cake and each trying a bite that Emma felt any real anxiety though. After a moment of contemplation, Gold spoke first.

“Presentable or not, this is actually quite good.”

“You sound surprised.” Emma almost slapped a hand over her face in embarrassment but stood her ground as she heard both Granny and Belle smothering laughs for it. He meanwhile narrowed his eyes slightly as if she’d truly angered him.

“I actually like the design. It’s very DIY friendly, and I think you could find this on any magazine cover. People love deconstructed anything made into cake.” Such praise from Regina had Emma smiling again before turning to Granny.

“I don’t know what you were planning to do with the rest of this, but plans have changed.”

Emma watched as the older woman actually removed the cake from her table and began to walk away with it and shook her head stunned. There was a small break for people to do their testimonial responses, which Emma couldn’t even remember completing before they were on to the technical bake – Regina’s apple streusel cake.

While tensions were high, Emma stayed collected and moved through the ninety minutes with a sense of collectedness she hadn’t expected. In fact, the only thing she noticed beside herself and the recipe before her was Killian, who took great care to speak with her throughout the time.

“I’ve been meaning to ask if you know what the ribbons around town are for.” Killian’s words as they both waited for their cakes to bake pulled a smile to Emma’s lips.

“They’re everyone’s allegiances, for the competition. We’ve all been assigned a color, and the rest of our nosy neighbors can have up to three colors for the pool that the GG is organizing.” Killian looked confused.

“The GG?”

“Sorry, the Gossip Gaggle. You know, the white haired coalition of ladies with the permanent table at Granny’s?” Recognition set in for Killian and he laughed heartily.

“I rather like that. So what color are you?” Killian inquired.

“They gave me white, if you can believe it.” He chuckled again, and the sounds sent a hum of pleasure coursing through Emma.

“I can. And do you happen to know the rest of us?”

“Yes…” Emma purposely held back to see if he’d keep asking, and she was rewarded with a pleading look from him.

“What can I trade you for such information, love?” She pretended to consider.

“You can tell me what you’re making for the competition tomorrow.”

“Vanilla mouse with a lavender infusion and raspberry frosting.” Emma’s mouth watered a little at the idea and she was slightly envious of that flavor compilation. It would surely taste wonderful.

“Your band is black, because you’re the competition’s dark horse.” Killian grinned at that.

“So you’re the light to my darkness then, Swan?” She raised her hands in defeat.

“Hey, I didn’t make the color scheme.”

“Tell him about the other bet!” Mary Margaret called from her side of the room and Emma flushed slightly.

“Yes, Swan, do tell,” Killian implored.

“There’s a pool about you too.”

“About me?” he asked skeptically.

“Oh come on Jones. You’re a single guy who just moved to small-town Maine. Women take one look and wonder who you’ll end up with.” The comment from David was both unexpected and entirely spot-on, though now that Emma thought about it, she had noticed David and Killian speaking a few times before. Perhaps they were friends. Still, Killian’s jaw dropped and Emma stifled a laugh.

“Who’s the favorite?” he asked, his breath a bit gruffer than before.

“David.” Belle replied as she pulled her cake out of the oven. She was the first to do so, but still seemed pleased with herself.

“So everyone thinks Dave and I are gay?” He didn’t say it like it was a repulsive statement, just like it was a clearly incorrect assumption.

“No. The old ladies just like a little fantasy. Plus you haven’t asked anyone out and it’s been a few months, so…”

“My brother is a bit shy, Emma, you’ll have to forgive him.”

Emma raised a brow at Liam’s sudden comment where he’d broken the wall between producers and contestants and was about to ask why he would apologize to her in particular when her own buzzer went off and everyone began focusing on their cakes once more. Soon the time was up, and they were all being judged on a blind taste test. Things went very well for Emma, who actually came in second for the apple cake.

All in all, as the day was ending, Emma had to admit she’d done rather well, and that she was really looking forward to tomorrow, but she did have one tiny regret. She would have liked to talk to Killian once more, to see what Liam had meant, but her friends had other ideas. Ruby, Belle and Mary Margaret all decided that their first day deserved a wine night ending, and Emma couldn’t turn down the chance to relax and unwind. Her queries, it seemed, would have to wait until tomorrow.

…………

“Why didn’t I think to incorporate a book into my theme?” Belle asked the next day, as Emma was working to decorate her Peter Pan Petites in the allotted time they’d been given for their thirty-six cupcakes challenge. Emma shrugged in reply and Belle simply shook her head. “Let me guess, you’ll have a book theme every week?” Emma nodded.

“I need an inspiration. I can’t just come up with ideas on the fly, like you can.” This seemed to appease her friend, but it sparked Killian’s interest.

“Have a thing for reading, love?”

“It would be a problem if I didn’t, seeing as I am an editor by trade.” She didn’t have to look over to him to see his surprise.

“How did I miss that?” Emma looked up to see him genuinely wondering and she looked at him quizzically.

“Researching the competition, Jones?” she asked playfully.

“Only you, love.”

This caused a blush to creep across Emma’s cheeks and she bent her head back to the cupcakes before her. They were decorated meticulously, with a miniature Jolly Roger placed over a swirl of green. She’d also included a little Pan’s shadow and a fondant mermaid on each. Everyone brought their own stands on which to put their finished product, but Emma also had props to incorporate on the spread for her display. At one point, she noticed as the costume hook she’d brought was swiped away. Killian had taken it, in an attempt to get her to speak to him once more.

“Don’t you have some cupcakes to make yourself?” Emma asked with a hand on her hip, playing at being frustrated, when all she actually felt was excited. She loved the attention from him, and she wanted more of it, which surprised her as she was kind of a guarded person. Her past experience had taught her that putting yourself out there romantically never paid off, yet the gleam in Killian’s blue eyes made her wonder if she’d written love off too soon.

Pull it together, Emma, no one said anything about love, she thought to herself critically as he finally replied.

“Aye I do, Swan. But I’m afraid I won’t be able to do much until I can get one of those beautiful smiles out of you.” As if he’d willed it into happening, a full-blown grin broke out across her face.

“Has anyone ever told you that all the charm is a little suspect?” He looked affronted and waved the hook around as if it was a part of his being.

“Never, love. Usually women comment on my being devilishly handsome or my roughish appeal.”

“You sound like a pirate.”

“Captain Jones has a nice ring to it, actually,” Mary Margaret offered from the back of the tent.

“How does she hear me from all the way over there?” Killian asked aloud and Mary Margaret herself responded.

“It’s a teacher thing. My superpower is almost as cool as Emma’s.” Killian returned the hook to Emma’s display and then finally retuned to his station, but he wasn’t done with his questions.

“A superpower, Emma? You hold so much back about yourself.” She laughed at that. He had no idea.

“She can tell when anyone is lying, always. She’s never wrong.” Belle sounded so proud of Emma as she said it that Emma had to turn to smile at her friend.

“That’s a load of bull.”

And just like that, the silence from Catherine was broken and Emma was once again set on edge by the rude woman. Still, Emma ignored her and went on with her cupcakes like no one had spoken. Emma did hear David asking Catherine to pull back some, but that only made Catherine more hostile.

“I just don’t know why everyone thinks they’re so great. Between her, the bookworm, and Sister Mary Margaret it’s ridiculous. I mean look at her,” Catherine aimed her gesture at Mary Margaret in particular, “she goes about her life like birds dress her in the morning, but it’s all a front.”

David looked like he was truly angry at this point, and kept glancing to Mary Margaret to see if she had heard (which she had) and to see if she was okay (which she was). Still, it was interesting. Perhaps David wasn’t so fully under Catherine’s spell as they all thought.

“Just a friendly reminder that there are cameras around and the bitter words usually make the cut for television.” Tink’s intervention was controlled, but barely. Her dislike for Catherine was just as apparent today as it had been the day before and Emma was growing to like her more and more. In another life they likely would have been friends. As it was, she smiled at her thankfully and the petite blonde smiled back in kind.

Time went by quickly after that, and though they’d all had a bit of distraction, most of the contestants had nice looking end results. Only one was truly lacking and it was Leroy’s. His frosting looked like it had been scratched on with a fork of all things, and the judges really couldn’t seem to find anything kind to say at all. When it was revealed soon after that he would be the one going home this week, no one was surprised, including Leroy. What was surprising though was that Emma was the person chosen for star baker of the week.

“There was no way around it. Miss Swan provided three wonderful bakes for consideration, despite a bit of sabotage in the first round. She has a good understanding of flavor and presentation.” Emma heard Regina’s words and felt a lot of pride at all she’d accomplished this weekend. Gold’s words were less uplifting.

“While no bake was perfect, she seemed to have a bit more control over her vision than the others.”

“So verbose,” Belle said as she rolled her eyes. Emma was starting to wonder what it was about this man that bothered her friend so much, still she couldn’t deny the outbursts were funny and made her feel better.

“Emma’s a good girl,” Granny said.  “And clearly I wasn’t the only one who thought so. That Killian certainly paid her a lot of attention, even when it put his own treats at risk.”

Emma looked to Killian who smiled at her and shrugged as if to say ‘she has a point.’ Emma couldn’t help but laugh. When the cameras were finally finished getting what they needed from the judges, the producers came towards the contestants once more.

“As all of you know, we’re working on a sped up model for the show, but it turns out it’ll be far faster than we’d realized. Thanks to a few early cancelations from this season’s scripted dramas, the network needs content fast. All of this footage will be cut down edited, and sent into the networks by midweek. We expect a Thursday or Friday time slot.” Liam said all of this calmly but it caused a flurry of questions and comments.

“Wait, like Thursday or Friday of this week?” Ella asked looking pale at the thought.

“Yes, this week.”

“I thought this wasn’t going to air until the holidays.” Belle continued.

“That was the plan originally, but this is television, and they follow the money.”

“How realistic is it that this is where the money is?” Archie asked.

“No idea. But for the sake of the dozens of people who are counting on this as a job, hopefully long term, lets hope the chances are high.” Emma hadn’t thought about that, though she’d met some lovely people over the past few days who did everything from hair and make up to lighting to security.

“Do we still need to keep who got kicked off a secret?” Tink and Liam nodded vigorously.

“Of course, that was in the agreement you all signed.”

“Do you have any idea what else the network is canceling? I don’t want to risk getting to attached to anything.” Killian’s comment had most of the contestants laughing (save for Catherine and Leroy) but it seemed to ease any lingering tension. With that they were dismissed, most to reconvene the next weekend.  

Something occurred to Emma as she left the tent for her life outside once more. She had never actually expected this to be fun. Sure, it would be an experience, a great story and a cool thing to have on her life resume, but it wasn’t what she’d thought of as entertaining. She was nervous about the cameras, shy of too much competition between her neighbors, and a bit scared she might not measure up skill wise, but this had been surprising. She’d had a great time, better than any weekend in a long while, and the person largely responsible for that had gorgeous dark hair, a sexy as sin accent and kind blue eyes.

“Emma!” Killian’s voice from behind had Emma turning to him, waving to her friends that she’d meet up with them in one minute. “I know we’ll be meeting again next weekend, but I was wondering if perhaps… you might be – well what I was hoping was that-,”

His stammering was adorable as he ran a hand through his hair clearly flustered, and Emma had an undeniable urge to kiss the shy smile that toyed at his lips. Somehow she knew that he wasn’t used to acting this way. Like his brother he probably teetered closer to the edge of control and collectedness than this scene before her indicated.

“Here’s my number.” Emma said, pulling out a pen from her purse and writing it down on his hand. She could have found some paper, or just put it in his phone, but inexplicably, she wanted an excuse to touch him.

When she’d written it clearly, she smiled at him and turned around to head back home. She could have sworn she heard him mumble ‘Bloody hell’ under his breath and it filled her with a rush of excitement. A moment later though, she spun around to see him once more. He was still standing there, staring at her as she walked away like he was in some sort of daze.

“I’ll be waiting for your call, Captain.” The fire in his eyes at her endearment was exactly the effect she wanted. Now all she had to do was wait.

Post-Note: So there we have it! Hopefully you guys liked it. Subsequent chapters will likely have one of the three challenges and the results featured and either a little bit of their normal lives, or recaps of it. There will be nine regular chapters in total (one per episode) and then an epilogue, HEA guaranteed. So thank you guys for reading, and hope you all have a great rest of your week!

[creativeashproductions]

Innocent Series [Part 2]

Summary: Blake Ainsley’s always had a rule that she wouldn’t getting into a relationship with someone outside of SHIELD, the problem came in the form of a tall brunette hunter trying to be normal. Blake and Sam believe each other to be too innocent for the world they both know, one that involved chaos, death, blood and pain. Will they ever know about each others ‘real life’?    

Characters: Blake Ainsley/OC, Sam Winchester, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff

Warnings: Swearing, blood, a little fluff, and a little angst.

A/N: This tumblr writings is getting easier I guess. I hope people enjoy this.

Part One

Masterlist

The next week was easy to fade into the life of a normal civilian almost as if she was a soldier returning from a tour. If only it could be so simple without the world nearly always in shambles involving criminals that required only the training of an Avenger to put down. It was a simple Saturday with the floppy haired love reading a book with a raven haired young woman nestled into his side dropping off.

The door was knocked on a few times but Sam was much to lazy to rouse you from a sleep that didn’t involve tight features. It was a welcoming time of peace to see the innocence on Blake’s face but the ever present knocking would disturb her if he didn’t answer. Slowly with his training he managed to place her head on a pillow before opening the door for a familiar face he couldn’t quite place.

“Sam Winchester? My name is Steve Rogers and I’m here asking for the assistance of Blake Ainsley.” The buff blonde man stated.

“What the…” Sam trailed moving his arm to the table on the wall wear a bowl holding keys sat. Under the table was a gun for safety that only he know of.

“I wouldn’t touch that.” Another voice said from behind him. He stiffened looking to see a woman that easily screamed highly trained soldier, “Kid. Don’t test us. We need Blake now.”

“What the fuck!” A feminine voice screeched from the couch, “Steve this is low!”

“Blake what the hell is going on?” The calm tone raised the hairs on her neck. In this situation she would have lost her shit in Sam’s position but instead he was dead calm with an undertone of coolness.

“Sorry. We’re only here to pick her up, it’s only questioning that is just simple routine.” Natasha waved off the suspicion, “We’ll have her back tomorrow afternoon.”

Without a choice the girl packed a quick go-bag before shoving light weight black boots from her custom uniform on her dainty, quiet feet. Kissing Sam on the cheek the group disappeared with a promise to return. It was then that Sam really needed answers about the nearly double life the girl he envisioned sharing a future with was holding back from him.

Routine his ass. Sam was beyond annoyed at the disruption of the downtime they were supposed to share. Hell why did she need to be interviewed! Did she commit some felony he didn’t know about?

In the covert van parked in a small secluded alleyway a meeting brief was happening between Blake, Steve and Agent Romanoff on the newest mission. She wouldn’t give up anymore than a quick mention of the time span it would take for the entire mission to finish compared to the one previous.

“Alright. Buckle kids, we’re going fast.” Natasha cautioned throwing the van into drive as soon as possible. The apartment building growing smaller and smaller as did the silhouette of the man in the window.

“Does he know?” Steve questioned checking the shield over as he took off the hoodie that had initially covered his top half of the uniform.

“No. I don’t want him to know as long as possible. He’s too busy looking after his grades, he came from a bad childhood.” Blake replied leaning against the wall.

“Maybe you should tell him?” Natasha replied pulling a hard left pushing her further into the metal wall, “I mean you’ve been together for a long time and you already know about his life.”

“Actually I don’t know a lot of his childhood or family life.” Blake replied pulling a gun out of the bag that Natasha brought for her, “I think it’s fair that if I don’t know much about his than maybe I shouldn’t tell him about my life.”

“That’s a healthy relationship.” Steve raised an eyebrow. Blake sent him an roll of her eyes before pushing the gun into a holster. All he really needed was his damn shield so he was set while Natasha and her had to stow away weapons.

“Shut up Cap.” Blake chuckled, “Let’s go save some hostages and than I can stretch out at home.”

                                                            ➰

The jet was flying over the Indian ocean prepping for the extraction of the hostages while STRIKE leader Brock Rumlow gave them the information regarding the situation with little empathy to the people on compromised ship. They were walking while Blake strapped a few knives into hidden pockets of her suit.

“The target is a mobile launch platform The Lemurian Star. It was sending their last payload when pirates took them ninety three minutes ago.” Rumlow explained.

“Any demands?” Blake questioned. Rumlow glanced at the dark haired girl before responding.

“A billion and a half.”

“Why so steep?” Steve questioned the physically older man.

“It’s SHIELD’s.” Rumlow admitted.

“In other words. It’s trespassing but not off course.” Blake crossed her arms sending a look at Natasha and Steve. She was fully with Steve’s mindset on the way SHIELD did their work now compared to the reason why it was launched in the first place.

“I’m sure they have a good reason.” Natasha said in her usual tone of voice.

“You know I’m getting a little tired of being Fury’s janitor.” Steve said towards the agents around him.

“Try being in the business since age five.” Blake raised an immaculate eyebrow at him. She had a similar story to Natasha’s when a group related to the Black Widow project decided to try it in North America. She was a product of the experimentation before SHIELD disbanded them.

“Relax, it’s not that complicated.” Romanoff smiled at the two other people she rode with.

“How many pirates?” Blake questioned for both Steve and her.

“Twenty-five top mercs. Led by this guy. Georges Batroc.” Rumlow said pulling up a photo of the man on a electronic monitor, “Ex-TGSE, action division-“

“He’s at the top of Interpol’s ‘red notice’ before the French demobilized him.” Blake mumbled looking the photo over repeatedly, “He had thirty-six kill missions.”

“This guy’s got a rep for maximum casualties.” Rumlow finished.

“Hostages?” Steve questioned finishing prepping for the mission. He only had to wait for for the time to get on the ship.

“Uh…mostly techs. One officer, Jasper Sitwell.” Rumlow pulls up the photo of Sitwell as he continued to explain, “They’re in the gallery.”

“What’s Sitwell doing on a launch ship? Alright, I’m gonna sweep the deck and find Batroc. Nat, you’ll kill the engines and wait for instructions. Blake, you’ll help me with finding Batroc and take down wandering people. Rumlow you sweep aft, find the hostages, get them to life pods. Get them out. Let’s go.”

“STRIKE you heard the Captain, gear up!” Rumlow yelled as he himself began dressing into the needed gear.

Blake followed suit getting her parachute securely on her body versus being like Steve and risking death. Checking her weapons again she cracked her neck and waiting for the okay to jump; it was exhilarating to jump out a flying piece of transportation without dying.

“Secure channel seven.” Steve ordered to the people on the jet.

“Seven secure.” Nat replied giving him a smirk.

“Did you do anything fun Saturday?” Blake questioned smirking as she knew the answer would be a negative despite the pressure to go on at least one date. He had been out of the ice for quite some time and would blame his work schedule.

“Well, all the guys from my barbershop quartet are dead…so no not really.” Steve retorted not bothering to hide the sadness that overcame his face for a fraction of a second.

“Coming up by the drop zone, Cap.” Rumlow informed as he watched from the open hatch.

“You know, if you ask Kristen out from statistics, she’ll probably say yes.” Natasha interjected.

“She’s a nice girl.” Blake informed her female friend, “She’s been single for longer than you’ve be awake since your popsicle sleep.”

“That’s why I don’t ask.” Steve explained easily. He didn’t want to date anyone else when his heart still belonged to the spunky woman he had left back in the 40’s.

“Rogers are you too shy or too scared to make a move on the poor woman? She’s been attracted to you for so long and for good reasons.” Blake said motioning to his body.

“Too busy!” Steve yelled over the loud wind as he jumped out of the jet.

“Was he wearing a parachute?” A random agent asked staring at the now empty space.

Rumlow, Nat and Blake shared a similar smile as they replied with a definite no. Captain didn’t have a death wish but he was still physically a young man with a very well matured mind and heart, he didn’t bother hiding from death when he could easily die in the shower.

Part Three

[x-fantasy-is-my-reality-x]

Attack on Titan Short Story Collection: Fireworks

"Alright you brats!" Captain Levi shouted over all the commotion of the gathered recruits. "We'll be trying some different training today." A dangerous smirk crossed his features, and Erwin stalked up behind him, holding a large bag. All the teenagers gulped when they saw the expression on the short man's face.

Soldiers who were lucky enough to not be dragged into this special training snickered to each other from behind the windows of the surrounding buildings, and it seemed as if everyone except the people involved, namely Eren and the others from the 104th Cadet Core, seemed to know what was going on.

"Hey guys," Jean whispered uneasily. "Why does the Captain look so happy?"

"I don't know, but it's creeping me out," Connie responded, shivering in anticipation. The last time Captain Levi had smiled was when there had been a sale on cleaning supplies in town two months ago, and he hadn't smiled since.

It wasn't exactly a smile to say, it was more of a look that would anyone know that they were completely and utterly screwed.

"Ymir, I'm scared," Christa cried, latching onto her friend.

The brunette seemed mostly unfazed, though she did look somewhat uneasy. "What I'm more concerned with is why Commander Erwin told us to wear our shabbiest casual clothing that we wouldn't mind discarding. I thought we were training."

"What's that short stack planning?" Mikasa growled, narrowing her dark eyes at him.

The new recruits were gathered in the courtyard in front of the castle, apparently preparing for some sort of new exercise. Under the intense stares of their superiors, they huddled together like a bunch of terrified lambs.

Suddenly, the doors burst forth and the eccentric scientist leaped out, waving around a lighter and drawing out a wave of murmurs from the spectators.

"They're dead meat," Eld commented, the rest of Levi Squad nodding in the background.

"Levi!" She pranced over to the Captain and Commander, who dipped their heads together and shielded whatever they had in their hands from view. The occasional giggle from Hange could be heard, and the teenagers could only wait anxiously for a few minutes before they ended their conversation.

"So," Levi said, turning around to face them. "I've noticed that the majority of you idiots don't know how to dodge properly during training." He looked pointedly to Eren, who yesterday had gotten sent to the infirmary from getting smacked by a fake Titan cutout when they were practicing in the forest.

Swallowing down his fear, the Titan-shifter struggled not to look away as he was pierced by steely gray eyes. He could feel them boring a hole into his soul, causing sweat to drip down face almost enough to rival Bertholdt.

"Thanks, loser." Jean muttered, shooting a glare at the brown-haired boy, who turned to glower back.

"That's why," Levi continued, snapping the two teenagers from their staring match, "We've come up with an alternate exercise to test your abilities."

Turning to look behind him, Eren could see Mike and Moblit each holding the ends of a long rope, walking away from each other and pulling it taunt once they had reached the side of two buildings. Now the recruits were trapped inside the rope-boundary and between the buildings, along with a very intimidating Captain who seemed to eat up their fear.

Erwin dug his hand into the large brown bag he was cradling, slowly drawing out a long, thin cylinder object with a stick protruding from one end.

Is that really what I think it is? Reiner stared in disbelief, and Bertholdt visibly began sweating. Even Sasha had stopped eating a piece of bread she snuck out to stare at the object in the Commander's hand, a visible look of confusion and realization flashing across her face.

At that moment, everyone had a vague suspicion about what was about to go down, but they all prayed to the walls that it wasn't going to happen. Unfortunately, they had no such luck.

"There was a sale on fireworks!" Hange declared gleefully, her eyes gleaming crazily. "So we decided that we should change things up a bit! Make life more interesting, ya know?"

"Since normally you have no incentive to do well during training, how about this? There are five hundred of these fireworks, and I'm not gonna stop until every last one has been used. And by the way, these things hurt like Hell so I don't recommend being hit." Levi warned. "And don't cross the line, or you'll have me to deal with."

Whimpers of fear emitted from them, the other Scouts watching in pity and amusement.

"We're so dead," Eren moaned, giving up all hope of survival.

"And another thing," Levi continued, tossing one of the fireworks up and catching it, the teenagers flinching at the audible smack it made as it met his palm. "I never miss."

"Begin!" Erwin yelled, handing a bundle of twenty-five to Hange, who quickly lit them and passed to Levi. Shrieking, the soldiers all scattered, Jean and Connie sprinting to a tree where they were promptly forced away by senior squad leaders positioned behind the trunk.

"Stay out in the open!"

Finding no other shelter, Christa and Ymir darted behind Reiner and Bertholdt, the largest of all the recruits and who had collective looks of terror on their faces.

"Hey I'm not a meat shield Ymir!" Reiner protested.

"I don't care just protect my Christa with that fat body of yours!" She screamed back, covering the smaller, blonde girl with her arms.

"Fine! And I'm not fat!"

"Is this really the time Reiner?!" Bertholdt wailed as a yellow rocket narrowly whizzed by his face, which he barely managed to avoid.

"I don't think clumping together is gonna help!" Someone hollered from the windows, drawing Levi's attention towards them.

"Oh shit! Scatter!" Reiner howled as seven fireworks were aimed at them. He dove to the side just in time as they flew by where his head had previously been. But it just so happened that Jean was running past behind them, and one of the fireworks rammed into his crotch, where he collapsed screeching in pain.

"Oh God why?!"

Levi focused his attention on another group, the three from Shiganshia. Armin was standing next to Eren and Mikasa, who were in a heated debate about something. Armin, seeing the packet of fireworks being pointed towards them, tugged desperately at Eren sleeve, only to be ignored.

"Eren!" He shook his shoulders desperately, finally getting pulling him away from his argument.

"What?!" Eren whirled around just as two blazing red rockets propelled into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him and searing a hole in his clothes.

"Eren!" Mikasa screamed, dodging a blue one that flew past her face.

Another one hit Armin in the chest, and he too was blown off his feet.

"What is this cynical Hell?!" Connie squealed as a green firework sped past his nose. He wasn't so lucky with the next one though, as it hit him straight in the backside as he was turning around.

"AAAHHHHH!" He hit the ground hard, rolling around in the grass to smother the dying embers.

"Don't touch my bread!" Sasha squawked, jumping over a firework and accidentally shoving two other recruits to the ground. "Oh shoot my bad-"

The freshly-baked food disappeared from her hands as she looked the other way.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!" She doubled over sobbing and crawled over to her now badly seared piece of bread, desperately attempting to salvage what was left of it.

"Sasha don't!" Reiner rushed over to try to pry it out of her mouth, bending over and giving Captain Levi the perfect target.

I'll teach you to be so tall, Levi thought jealously as the rocket found its target, a straight bullseye into the six-foot boy's ass.

"OW!" He fell over Sasha, batting out the fire from his singed pants, which fell away to reveal his light blue boxers now turned gray.

I knew the Survey Corps was a bad idea, Bertholdt thought to himself as Levi turned to him, the most obvious target as the tallest in the courtyard, excluding Mike who was observing silently behind the corner of the building and thanking the Walls that he wasn't a recruit anymore. The smoke was annoying his nose quite a bit, but it wasn't every day that you got to watch Humanities' Strongest (And shortest) shoot fireworks at a bunch of terrified teenagers. But to be fair, who wouldn't be?

"Hey Titan," Levi aimed at Bertholdt, who visibly paled and shrunk.

Oh crap does he know-

His train of thought was interrupted as two rockets hit him in the temple and another three hit him in the pelvis, knocking him clean off his feet.

"Only one hundred left!" Erwin bellowed over the chaos; kids were bumping into each other and tumbling down with a firework or few lodged in their clothes. The blue-eyed man whipped out the last one hundred, which looked petrifying. They were twice the size of the regular ones Levi had been shooting, and the ends were in the shapes of sharp points.

"If you can't handle this, you'll never be able to beat the Titans!" Levi began chucking them as they launched, making them twice as fast and hit much harder, and if they thought that the old ones hurt, it was nothing compared to the agony of being hit by one of these monstrosities. The Scouts cringed from the window, smoke rising in the air and assaulting their nostrils.

"Join the Survey Corps they said!" Connie squalled, his pants aflame. "It'll be fun they said!" He ran into Bertholdt, who had just gotten up, catching his clothes on fire too.

"Connie! Bertholdt!" Armin dashed towards them, only to be tripped as Levi hurled one at his feet, and it began exploding in a shower of colorful sparks and loud booms.

"Oh yeah! I forgot we had those!" Hange whooped, shaking Levi just as he released another one, which flew towards the building to his left. Olou and Gunther jumped back from the window just in time as it blew into a thousand sparks, knocking back into Petra and Eld and the Levi Squad all fell unceremoniously into a pile on the floor.

"Don't touch me shitty glasses!" Levi snarled. "Or I'll shove one of these things down your damn throat!"

Laughing, Hange danced out of reach and went to hide behind Erwin. Rolling his eyes, he went back to demolishing the recruits. He could always deal with her any other day, but it's not every day you get to play dodgeball with fireworks. Well, one-sided dodgeball.

"You couldn't tell us earlier they exploded?!" Eren roared, immediately regretting it as Levi started directing all his strength towards knocking the angry teenager down.

"Augh!" One skimmed the top of his head as he evaded a firework at the last second.

"Last one!" Erwin declared, bringing something out from behind his back. It looked like an actual bomb.

"You're going to throw a bomb at us?!"

"Of course not," The Commander chuckled, handing it to Levi. "He is. Once it explodes, there's a coin inside. Whoever catches that coin will be excused from their chores for a week."

"WHAT?!" The effect was instantaneous. Everyone scrambled up, looking fixedly at the object in Levi's hand. He waved it from side to side and they all followed.

"Tch, brats." Tensing up his muscles, he heaved it into the sky where it disappeared from view.

"Get ready!"

It came back down, combusting into pieces fifty feet above their heads. A glint of gold could be seen flying towards them, and they bolted after it.

The coin whistled through the air towards the two superiors, and a stampede of feet followed after them. They were so entranced that they bulldozed right into Erwin and Levi, the latter who was swept up in a tidal wave of bodies. All the Scouts held their breaths as everyone toppled into one big heap on the grass, Levi and Erwin at the very bottom. The entire clearing was silent.

Then, a very pissed off "Get the fuck off me!" could be heard from beneath the recruits, and people rushed to get off spewing apologies and begging for their lives.

"Who got the coin?"

"I'm so sorry!"

"Please don't kill me!"

"Where is it?"

"Get off of him!"

"HEY!" Reiner shouted over the noise, and everyone quieted down a bit. "Who's got the coin?"

He was met with empty stares as everyone swiveled their heads to look at each other and holding up their coinless hands.

"I don't have it."

"Me neither."

"Same."

"Then who the Hell has it?" Jean demanded, glowering.

"I do." A low baritone rumbled, and everyone's hopes and dreams for a relaxing week was plummeted into the darkest recesses of their minds.

Levi held up the coin, smirking triumphantly. A chorus of sighs and complaints erupted.

"Is that even allowed Commander?"

"This has got to be a joke!"

"But he likes chores!"

"Come on!"

Connie and Sasha looked like they were on the verge of tears, and no one appeared much better. Soot and dirt covered their bodies from head to toe, and the majority of their clothes contained blackened holes. Bertholdt had fallen into a horse trough, leaving the gentle giant completely drenched. Christa and Ymir were covered head to toe in mud, and even Mikasa wasn't able to leave unscathed.

"Well I didn't say who was qualified to catch it." Erwin smiled apologetically.

"If you all want it that badly, you're free to fight me for it. If you win, you can have it." Levi flipped the coin in his hand, glaring challengingly at the teenagers surrounding him. "And if one of you brats really can beat me, then I'll extend it to a month."

They all looked at each other, weighing their options. He had to be tired from firing all those rockets, right? Right?

"C-can we fight in doubles?" Armin asked meekly.

"Whatever, sure."

"Mikasa?"

"No thanks," She shook her head. "I don't feel like it and I don't mind the chores that much." The truth was, one of the fireworks had ripped the waistband of her pants, and she didn't really want to fight singlehanded while the other held up her clothes.

"Reiner?"

He seemed to contemplate it for a second, before saying, "Only if someone else fights with me."

"Bertholdt! You were third in the entire 104th!" Connie urged, nudging the quiet boy.

"What?! No thanks! Uh, Eren why don't you? You were one of the best at hand-to-hand combat!"

"Um...."

"Come on! At least try!" Ymir encouraged, though she only wanted to see him get his ass kicked.

Flashbacks of the courtroom flew through Eren's mind, before he was rudely interrupted.

"Are we doing this or not? I don't have all damn day!" Levi spat, crossing his arms. Everyone stared at him expectantly, and he knew if he didn't do it Jean would mock him for the rest of eternity.

Swallowing, Eren finally agreed, though he would rather face a Titan emptyhanded. "Fine! I'll do it! Reiner! Let's go!"

"I've gotta see this!" Hange darted out, followed by other excited Survey Corps members.

"Alright then I guess-" Reiner hit the floor so fast that no one even saw Levi move. Everyone backed up a few steps, leaving Eren the only one within twenty feet of the world's strongest man.

"Um i-is it too late to back out now? Captain?" Eren, cowered back, preparing to have every bone in his body shattered and rearranged.

"Yes, brat."

From that day forth, there was an Eren-shaped dent next to the pavement, a grim reminder to humanity to not mess with the Captain scarier than Titans.