#top shelf chapter 20

[beardysuits]

Closer to Dad pt 2

Part 1 found here

I can’t believe it, I’m uncle Rob! I was still getting used to being a solid 50 pounds heavier, probably even more to be honest. When I dressed up as Rob, I had chosen one of his older football jerseys to feel his stomach pressed against his beefy belly. Each step I took I could feel the fabric stretch to accommodate my new form. I patted it, feeling the jiggle ripple through the rest of my abdomen. This was going to be a fun day.

Normally it would have taken me about 15 minutes to get from Rob’s house back to mine, but with my new longer legs, and the amount of excitement built in, I made it in half the time. Stepping up to the front door, my heart was racing in anticipation. I haven’t spent real quality time with my dad in what felt likes years. To go from being the scrawny son he essentially ignored, to becoming his best friend and brother, was a dramatic shift. However, I let out a long breath of air and pounded on the door with my strong fist. 

Dad, I guess I should refer to him by his first name now, Mike, opened the door and looked at me inquisitively. He wasn’t even wearing his usual jersey, just a green t shirt and jeans, his hair messy, with the locks shining in the golden sunlight. 

“Rob? What are you doing knocking on the door? You haven’t done anything but stroll in like a bastard for years”. Shit, of course I should have just walked in. Rob’s been coming over to our place for years now to hang out with my dad. I chuckled to try and cover.

“What and not take you up on opening the door for me? Fat chance,” I told him with my best uncle Rob impersonation. He rolled his eyes and ushered me in. I think I can still play this off. Coming into my home as Rob made it feel like a brand new experience, like I was stepping foot for the first time. Though that may just be because I’m about a foot taller and my perception has greatly shifted at this new height. 

“You want a beer?” Mike asked, closing the door behind me. 

“It can’t even be 8 am,” I told him without a second thought. His eyebrow raised again. 

“What took you so long to ask?” I asked him back. He scoffed and wandered off to the kitchen. My heart would not slow down. I can make a couple of recoveries, but what am I supposed to do when he actually starts talking about football? Mike came back, and tossed me an unopened can. I popped the tab and took a swing, almost spitting it right back out. Fuck me, that’s what beer tastes like? At the tender age of 20, I was just shy of getting myself any alcohol of my own. Though also, at the tender heart, I was too chicken to sneak one of my dad’s to try before today. 

Thankfully Mike had his back turned to me, otherwise he surely would have seen me grimace from the taste. 

“So, game’s not for another hour,” he said, coming back from the kitchen again, this time holding the entire box full of beers. Oh god do I have to drink all of those? I can’t even stomach one. 

“How about you make your lazy ass of some use and help me stock the fridge? Especially since you didn’t bring any of your own,” he continued. Was I supposed to bring something? I’m clearly an awful guest. I followed him downstairs to his man cave, one which I rarely stepped foot in. 

It was what one would expect of a middle aged man who was obsessed with football. A once plush couch now worn out from years of ass being met with it, a small beer fridge along the side, massive flat screen tv along the back wall. If you pick up a copy of “Man Caves for Dummies”, you’d find this on chapter one. Mike shoved the box of beers at me and I waddled off to the fridge to stock up. Not like there was much space anyways, he always kept it pretty filled. 

As I was finishing up the bottom level of the fridge, I felt a hard smack against my ass, almost causing me to shove my whole head into the fridge. 

“Hurry up slowpoke, I wanna get these chilled before the game starts,” Mike said, pulling another beer out of the top shelf. He already finished the first one? I was too distracted to even drink mine, now so aroused at my ass getting smacked, and being ordered around by my dad. Don’t get me wrong, I was used to him ordering me around before, but this time it was playful. It didn’t help that my new cock was pressed against the silky material of my jockstrap, hidden under Rob’s set of Wranglers. I was chubbed up since I came in his body earlier today, but the touch of Mike, and the material sliding against it, made me rock hard. 

I adjusted my pants to help try and mitigate how much of my cock showed and closed the fridge door behind me. 

“Just giving you time to remember how I got the good ass genes from dad,” I told him. I turned and shook my ass at him, smacking it myself. Fuck Rob’s butt really kept up some perk since his old military days. 

“Please, the only thing you got from dad was a bad back and a receding hairline,” he said, chuckling to himself. He took a swig out of his beer and I decided to mirror him. This time, I knew what to expect and choked down the ale with less effort. This actually wasn’t too bad after a while. He reclined back on the couch and kicked his feet up on the corner L of the sofa. He was wearing his basketball shorts and his calves were showing. I never looked at my father in a suggestive way from the implication alone, but I wasn’t me right now. Even as his brother it felt like I was somebody entirely different. 

I could admire how strong his legs looked, especially when he stretched one of them out to pop his knee. The shorts rode up and a brief glimpse of his thigh bared itself to me. This didn’t help my need to hide my raging boner at all. He turned his attention from the TV and looked at me. 

“What are you waiting for? Permission?” He asked. I sat on the opposite end of the couch from him. We had an hour until the game, and I immensely regretted not doing more research before I took over Rob. Mike tried to engage with me about the team, sports, players, and I did my best to rebut against them with jokes and more general comments. He definitely knew something was up though. I drank through the whole thing, feeling my new belly slosh as it contained nothing but beer. The jersey I was wearing started to feel even tighter as I felt my stomach expand to accommodate. 

“Jeez Rob are you okay?” He asked me, minutes before the game began. My consciousness was starting to fade some, the alcohol finally starting to kick in. I had to have been 6 beers in by this point, only taking so long due to Rob’s large build. 

“What do you mean?” I asked him, blinking slowly to orient myself. He finished his last bit of his drink and threw it into the closest trash can. 

“You aren’t yourself. No idea what I’m talking about, stumbling through any conversation, it’s like I’m talking to…” he shrugged, “well, Timmy”. That made me snap into focus. The original plan when I took over Rob was to talk to my dad about anything but football, and hopefully, make him actually like the real me. 

“What about Tim?” I asked him. He cracked open a new beer. 

“Well you know, he’s a good kid, but I just don’t get him. Always up in his room all day, toying around with those little figures of his.” My figures I paint as a hobby. Something about bringing those little guys to life brought me a lot of calm. I didn’t even think my dad knew they existed.

“Have you tried connecting with him about what he likes?” I asked him. I knew the answer, but wanted to hear him admit it. 

“Yeah,” he said. Liar. “I mean, kind of. I just don’t get it. You known when we were growing up we were outside, running around the woods, getting dirty. Tim he just, I don’t know, is just a shut in. We didn’t grow up like that, he actually did things. Like when we kidnapped the Connors’ dog and posted a ransom to buy snacks in the summer. I mean you know, we did a LOT together. Tried new things, grew closer. He doesn’t do anything, just toys away and plays on that damn computer”. 

Ouch. Can’t say I’m surprised though, it’s about what I expected him to feel. 

“But I wanna connect with him, you know. I want to be his dad, not just his father. I taught him to ride a bike, hit a baseball, how football works. Then he became a teenager and just dropped all of it and became a different kid.” I was about to open another beer, but wanted to be as much of myself as possible. 

“You know Mike, I think he may have always been like this,” I told him. He raised an eyebrow in response. “I think, he just wanted to be the person you wanted him to be so you’d love him. But, he found out that he wasn’t happy doing those things, so he just decided to be himself, and hope you’d love him anyway.” 

Mike was silent for a long time, not even taking another drink. 

“That is, at least my theory,” I said. He shrugged and pondered. 

“I mean I do love him, no matter what he does,” he finally said. “He’s my son. He can be a pro athlete or build and sell a computer for a living. I just figured since we had so much fun together and have great memories, that’s how he should do it too. But, maybe I should try and see how we can do what he likes more.”

I could feel the tears well in my eyes. Fuck Dad, why couldn’t you just tell me that. 

“Thanks Rob for just letting me- are you crying?” He asked. I wiped the tears away and hid my face from him.

“No no, just, fuck it,” I said, looking for a new beer. 

“You fucking softie,” he said, a hearty laugh escaping him. “Here, for you listening to my bitching.” He leaned over the armrest of the sofa for a little while and finally pulled out a new can. He tossed it to me. Raising his own, he opened the tab. I did the same, only to be met with a flare of foam dousing me. He cackled and slapped his knee. 

“Fucker!” I yelled at him, already becoming inhibited from all the drinks. “Gotta change this fucking shirt now,” I told him. I could feel the words slurring as the alcohol came on harder. I stood up, stepping back to try and regain my balance. I grabbed the bottom of my jersey with both hands and yanked it up, my head stuck in the hole before finally tugging it off and slamming it to he ground. 

I looked down, once again admiring Rob’s hairy chest and beautiful pecs. The years of service he did performed wonders on his body, which he didn’t give up on as he reached middle age. 

“Give me a shirt,” I told him, trying to make it to the staircase. 

“Rob fucking sit down, you’re fine,” he called out to me. “Let that shit dry and just be half naked for a bit you puss.” I walked back and fell back on the sofa. My cheeks were flaring up and I could feel my heart pounding from the exertion. I put my hand on my chest to feel the heart rate, and couldn’t help but squeeze a little, feeling the pec succumb to my own touch. I chuckled and looked over to my father, who was looking at me intently. I chuckled to him.

“What?” I asked, losing sight in trying to pretend to be Rob at this point. He smirked. 

“Nothing, just, all this talk about our childhoods is making me just remember the good old times. You know know, the Connors dog, the woods, the…. late night talks. Ones about girls, and who was hot in my grade, who was hot in yours. How we’d-“ he pulled his own shirt off and threw it on top of mine. “Try to figure out what would make them feel good”. 

I admired Mike’s body, not as toned as mine, but certainly he took care of himself as he aged. He own chest displayed a gorgeous set of fur. How did I miss out on just how beautiful he was? How did I not get these genes and looked more like my mother? How is he looking at me so… sexually? He slid down the L of the sofa, laying his head against the back cushion, throwing an arm behind his head to rest it. His armpit was shadowed in a dark bush, which I can only imagine smelled of a strong musk. 

Wait what the fuck? This is my dad, or my brother? He’s family, but I did jerk off my own uncle just hours before. He’s my dad, but he’s also not making this weird. He’s.. he’s.. fuck he’s sexy! 

“Game’s about to start,” I told him finally, not taking my eyes off his physique. 

“They’re playing the Buccaneers, I know how it’ll go,” he said. He got on all fours and crawled to me. Judging from the look in his eyes, the beers had taken their toll on him as well. We were now face to face, mere inches from one another. I could smell the alcohol on his breath as he leaned in and planted his lips on mine. I pushed back a bit, but he wouldn’t let me break away. His tongue slithered forward and traced it along my new one. I gave in and wrestled his with my own, my lips moving in sync with his. He placed a hand on my chest and squeezed at my pec, the warm touch juxtaposing with the shivers which shot through me. 

I took my hand and placed it on the back of his head, brushing my fingers through his salt and pepper hair. As I gripped at it, he became more aggressive and reached for my throat. He wasn’t rough with it, but placed his thumb just below my Adams apple, pressing firmly. My breath was ragged from his force, and my pants had grown so incredibly tight in futile attempts to restrain my cock. My other hand went on the lower end of his back, guiding him to press into me, the fur on our chests entangling. 

He slipped his mouth away from my lips, running them down my neck, kissing me as he lowered himself further down this stolen body. When he got to my belly, he took extra time to take both hands and rub them across it. He worshipped my stomach, kissing at it, gripping, and without a single word, making me know it was his. His hands ran down my stomach to zipper off my hands, toying with it. I spoke back to him with my dick, flexing it to tell him it needed to be released. 

He looked up at me and smirked, lowering his head down again to lick at my bulge. It was torture, I needed to produce it to him and have it slide down his throat. I reached my hand down to get to my pants, but he immediately snapped and grasped my wrists. 

“Uh uh,” he hushed. “Remember, I’m making you the girl here. And a good girl, lets the man do what he wants.” He released my wrists and finally got his hands back on my zipper. He zipped it down, before finally finishing with a flourish and pulling the Wranglers down to my ankles. He worked to get them kicked off my feet, before being met a silky pink jockstrap, which could snap at a moments notice. It was absolutely soaked in precum, and my dick had pushed it to its limits. 

“What the fuck Rob? You sporting these now?” He asked me. I smirked at him. 

“Was just remembering the good times,” I told him with a wink. He seemed to hesitate, almost snapping back to reality. However, the lust must have taken over, as he proceeded to take his tongue and lick up the precum which topped off the jock. Just feeling the tip of his tongue hit my cock made me groan involuntarily. 

“Shut up, Tim might be home,” he told me. I wouldn’t worry about that, I wanted to tell him, but no words could form at this point. He proceeded to lap at my bulge, seeming to suck off any of the pre which had accumulated. Just as it seemed he was about to pull my jock off, he backed away. Fuck, was something wrong? I looked up and saw him working on getting his own pants off. He was struggling, barely able to move at all. 

I assisted him, leaning forward and not taking the same slow care he had given me. I yanked the pants off and discovered two thing about my dad. One, he liked to go commando. Two, he had an impressive cock. Veiny, hard as a rock, and long enough that I knew he could rub out a prostate without even going halfway in. If he was the surprisingly soft and sultry type, I was the ravenous one. I had never actually sucked a dick before, but had watched plenty of films to emulate what others had done. I gripped the base of his shaft, which despite how large my new hands were, still was an intimidating beast. 

I licked at the head of his cock, tasing the musky aroma come to life as the sensation of manhood trickled down my throat. He tasted amazing, his own precum starting to mix with the sweat he had built through the day. I licked my lips, lubing them up as I began to take his entire cock into my mouth. The years of study had prepared me somewhat for what it took to take him, but practice made perfect. At first I almost gagged and vomited the half dozen beers which still waved in my stomach, but as I got into a rhythm, it became easier. He leaned his head back and didn’t say a word, but moans were suppressed from his closed mouth. 

He raised both arms up, showing off his pits. The smell permeated through the air, filling my nostrils. He must have not showered in the past couple of days, as I could smell the usual scent of my father embody the room. It motivated me to work harder, pushing my lips to the base of his balls and holding them in place. He grabbed the sides of my head and thrust his cock back and forth, skull fucking me as a growls began to erupt from him. 

I thought he was about to coat my throat with his cum, but just as he was about to finish, he threw my head back and pushed me to the other side of the sofa. I looked up to find him jerking himself off and staring at me seductively. 

“Turn around and show your big brother that hole of yours,” he commanded, sitting up on his knees. I did as he was told, getting on all fours and facing away from him. I felt the couch move below him as he crawled to me. He spit, and the sensation of his saliva against my hole made me shake. With one hand, he spread my ass cheek to the side, and with the other, I felt him guide the tip of his cock. Pressing against my hole, I gripped at the fabric in the couch, my knuckles turning white. 

“Easy,” he told me. “Remember, just like we used to practice.” He pushed the tip and my hole reluctantly allowed him in. It was a shock of pain which made me scream. His hand quickly shot to my mouth and covered it, muffling my howls.

“I told you to shut up,” He said. He kept pushing his cock further in, still holding my mouth closed. He inch which slid its way in made me try to yell louder in and louder, but his calloused hand pressed harder against my lips. There was a sensation, a pop. Immediately I stopped yelling and groaned again, this time in ecstasy. 

“There you go lil bro,” he told me. “Just like riding a bike”. He pulled out some and pushed his way back in. Fuuuuuuck. Fuck he was so god damn big! He pumped, his cock rubbing against my prostate. Each thrust sent electricity coursing through my body and out the tip of my cock. I hadn’t touched it in ages and wanted to pump in unison with him, but too much of me was just holding on to the couch for dear life. His thrust began to increase in speed, with no room in between for rest. 

“Fuck daddy’s gonna cum!” He yelled out, clearly not worried about the noise anymore. He put a hand on each of my shoulder to steady himself. 

“Cum in me dad, cum in me!” I yelled out, my lips free from his grasp. 

“FUCK!” He yelled out, pushing his balls deep against my bare ass. I felt his cock twitch with his pulse as wave after wave of his cum shot deep into my colon. I counted it out, each pulse getting weaker and weaker, before finally all I could feel was my dad’s stomach resting on my back as he caught his breath. He slid out and fell back on the couch, his legs spread, and while now limp, he cock rested beautifully on his thigh. 

I laid on my own back and marveled at him, so gorgeous even just lit by the TV glow. For a second I was worried in his post nut clarity, he would realize what had happened. Instead, I could hear him snoring, somehow already passed out from the exertion. I took the opportunity to finally whip off the jock strap and pump my cock, which had been lathered up in a concoction of my precum and dad’s saliva. 

I felt his cum begin to leak out of my hole, running into the couch. I grabbed a small handful and rubbed it between my fingers. It was thick and a stark white, prime for breeding. Prime for lathering up my cock further and… lathering… That, gave me an idea. Releasing my cock, I stepped to my pants he had discarded on the floor. I fumbled with the pockets until I found it, another vial. 

Inside was the lotion I had made to slip myself into Rob. I was worried it would wear off while I was here, making me be ejected. So, I brought an extra container in case I had to sip back inside. But, what if I went a step further? Both of us were already naked, so I took the opportunity to pour the contents all over Rob’s body, just as I had done in my real body. 

It was a miracle there was enough, as Rob was twice the size as my original body. However, I finally stood in front of my father, silk, lathered up, and ready to experiment. I was just as careful as I was when I took over Rob’s body. Fingering my dad’s hole and enlarging it. Making it able to take one finger, then two, three, until finally my whole hand was inside of him. I think all of the drinking had sedated him, as he wasn’t moving a muscle from all of the activity. 

I pushed further, finding the process to be much more difficult than last time. Previously, I was going from a short, lanky form, barely 150 pounds into a man twice my size. This time, while my father was hardly a small man, had less room available to take in Rob’s body. I worked carefully, pushing both arms inside, before taking a deep breath and plunging my head inside. This sensation was the same at least. Pitch darkness, a tight sensation, the beating of his heart echoing around me. The issue was, Rob’s chest was so fucking massive, I had to really push to get inside. 

I could still feel my feet outside, so I used them to prop myself up and force myself in further. I could only imagine what it looked like out there. The towering form of Rob, chest deep inside of my dad’s hole as he tried to slam his entire body into him. However, with each thrust, I could feel my body being encapsulated by my father. Eventually I found my whole upper body inside, and I worked to stretch myself out. It was like I was trying to slide into a latex suit that was two sizes too small. Every crevice of mine was suppressed and pushed inward. 

It was constricting, my father’s form could barely contain the man who had at least 40 pounds of muscle on him. But surely, I found a way to get both legs inside and curl my feet in too. I felt the hole close and Rob’s body completely be closed in. Having done this once already, I had an idea of what to do next, but the size difference made it all too difficult. I did learn however from last time to adjust my cock first and not cause a panic. With both arms still not in position with my dad’s, I took my cock and slide it into his like a sheath. 

Before I aligned them though, I experimented and pulled back and pushed in again. I did this a few times, feeling like I was fucking the inside of my father. It was too good, but I had to push on, the constriction was getting to me. I aligned both feet and legs, arms, hands, and finally head. I slithered my tongue into my father, and pushed the top of my head into his. With one final force, I pushed my cock into the tip of his and felt the transformation complete.

I opened my eyes and surveyed the room, my head groggy as I felt the alcohol trying to hold me still. The glow of the TV still reflected off the walls, but more noticeable than that was the smell of my father’s musk right next to me. I looked to my left and found his armpit right next to my face. I inhaled deeply, now aware that I was my dad! I liked at his bicep, knowing all the while this tongue just moments ago was worshipping me. I sat up, trying to orientate myself. 

Everything was the exact same, though now I could see just under me was a pool of the lotion and cum which soaked into the seats. I rubbed my dad’s hole, and found that some of his cum was still leaking out from me. I brought it to my face and lapped it up. It was salty, tinged with the potency worthy of breeding. 

I took another scoopful of his, I guess, MY own cum and lathered up my new dick. As I never did actually finish while I was just Rob, I still had a sizable load to get out. I pumped my dad’s cock which had sprung to life once more. I smelled at this pits as I did so, lapping at his biceps and worshipping my new body. 

NSFW version found here

From the excitement of today, it didn’t take long before I could feel the eruption coming. 

“Fuck I”m gonna cum!!” I yelled in my dad’s voice, before finally letting out the build up of cum spray all over me. Despite getting off just earlier today, it was a cascade as I coated chest. The fur absorbing every drop and sinking into my chest. My cock was bright red, pulsing as each drip soared into the air. But it was over all too soon, and I was left with just myself, the smell of cum, musk, and the football announcers quietly speaking. 

I looked down at myself, proud of the mess I had made. Though, I did wonder what this meant. Was I stuck as my father, with Rob gone forever? Would I get ejected as Rob? As myself? The lotion had lasted this long already, I wonder how much longer I had. If it wasn’t long, I wanted to make the most of it. Slowly, I raised myself up and stood, looking to dress myself up. There I found the jockstrap I had Rob wear, still damp. I stepped in and shimmied it up my legs. 

It was cool at this point, and made me shiver, but it was so good to be reunited with it. I rubbed my hands over my body, coaxing the cum further into my hair and admired the nice bulge my dad gave the jockstrap. Maybe if I can keep this up for a bit, I’ll have to have dad pick up some new clothes…Something with leather perhaps. 

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A bit of a longer story, but hopefully that makes you all enjoy it even further! Would love to hear from all of you as to what you'd like to see more of as I try to get back more into my writing.

Thank you all!

[autumnshighlady]

I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 29)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: wedding night... activities

warnings: PURE SMUT!!! literally filth, i have no excuse. threesome, oral sex (F receiving), spanking, dom!Nesta, orgasm denial, face sitting, everything basically. slight talk of past trauma but that's it (seriously when y'all write threesomes why do your characters never discuss limits beforehand smh)

word count: 8.3k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: sorry i fell off the face of the earth... again..... i got super depressed and forgot how to write but i'm back now! rip to the person who requested neris x reader smut and had to wait 28 chapters for it lol

DISCLAIMER: none of this is proofread and i WAS drunk when i wrote it so it's a disaster but it's smutty so feast away

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / part 17 / part 18 / part 19 / part 20 / part 21 / part 22 / part 23 / part 24 / part 25 / part 26 / part 27 / part 28 / part 29 / part 30

read on ao3

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Your jaw hit the floor as you entered the unfamiliar room. Against the wall to your left was the biggest four poster bed you had ever seen, enough to fit at least 4 people with room for limbs to be spread but not touching. It was covered in a thick green blanket, with cream pillows and a knitted throw at the base. Almost-sheer gold curtains were wrapped from the top frame of the bed posters, held back by brass loops. There was a large, arching wall of flowers and branches surrounding a shelf behind the bed’s headboard. A few trinkets had already been strewn across the shelves – books, jewellery, a knife, all objects you had seen Eris possess. The floor was dark wood and elegant, with a large, red rug in front of the bed, offset by the most comfortable-looking, plushy chairs and couch you had ever seen. 

But what caught your eye the most was the expertly carved cinquefoil arches and pillars on the other side of the room that lead to a balcony. There were no windows between the pillars, but the room remained devoid of the chill of the night air. It was spelled, judging by the thin sheen of magic between the spaces. You couldn’t see the view at this hour, but you knew it would take your breath away.

Angling your head in amazement, you noticed two open doors on the right side. One led to what looked like a massive walk-in closet, while the other led to the bathroom. You followed the second door, peering in to see the largest bathing room you had ever seen. An enormous tub was carved into the floor at one end, a small fountain spurting from one end with dragon’s heads carved into it. Across from the tub was a spacious shower, with various faucets and shower heads at all angles and three shelves with different soaps and oils on them. Amazed, you stepped back into the main bedroom, too stunned to speak.

“So,” Eris smirked, sauntering up behind you and placing his hands on your waist. “What do you think, my love?”

Slack-jawed, you couldn’t find the words for a moment. You glanced at Nesta, who had come up beside you. Her eyes were wide, her soft lips parted ever so slightly in wonder. Everything in this room was perfect, down to the last detail. “Is this…” You tried to speak but your voice trailed off.

“Our room.” Nesta finished your sentence for you, her voice filled with awe.

You asked, “wait, did you know?”

Eris squeezed your sides gently. “She knew this was going to be my gift to you both. Unfortunately I had to tell her, as I needed her input in the construction of the shower. But this is the first time you have both seen it. It was originally a storage room, but I had it redone and it has been worked on for the past two months.”

You baulked. “Eris, I…” Once again, your voice trailed off. The scale of the room, the attention to detail, everything was specifically designed for you, Eris, and Nesta to live together without feeling cramped. Eris had done all of this for you, for Nesta. Even during those dark days where it seemed everything had gone awry, he had kept hope aflame with the building of this room. “I don’t even know what to say, this is incredible.”

Eris chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder and letting his lips graze your ear as he murmured, “You don’t have to say anything. You both deserve it, and I am beyond thrilled that I have the honour of spoiling you like this. It is the least I can do, and it is just one of many endless ways I intend on proving my devotion.”

Instantly, your blood heated at the sensation and you let out a breath. You shivered slightly, face flushing at having your mate’s lips so close to your neck. The action did not go unnoticed. Nesta turned her head towards you, pupils widening with lust at the breath that escaped your lips. Eris simply moved even closer, his fingers stretching up your ribs ever so slightly. Even through the thick fabric of your wedding dress, your skin tingled where his fingers brushed and you sucked in a breath.

“My, my,” Nesta cooed, cocking her head and surveying you up and down like a dragon staring at her prey. The way her head tilted slowly, eyes aflame and each movement possessing a serpent-like quality reminded you of Athariel’s mannerisms – rider and beast, slowly morphing into a unified being. “Somebody is flustered easily.”

“That’s good,” Eris said smoothly, his voice like silk. “It means she listened when I told her she had to wait until the night of the wedding for her desires to be satisfied.”

“You really think I had time for any of that amidst the wedding chaos?” You tried to snap back, but your voice was breathy and weak. All you could think about was Eris’s hands on your sides and Nesta’s blue-grey eyes sizing you up. Your heart thumped louder in your chest as you realised your fantasies were going to be brought to fruition. All those weeks of having to suppress your urges were finally at an end. The sensation of your mates’ desire through the mating bond was almost overwhelming, igniting every nerve in your body.

Eris dragged his lips up and down the side of your neck, chuckling darkly at the shudder your body involuntarily made at the sensation. “Fair enough, we have been rather busy, haven’t we? I’m surprised you’ve made it this long.”

Nesta gracefully took a step closer to you, her rich, warm scent enveloping your senses as she gently removed the crown from your head, setting it down on the dresser a few feet away. “Oh please, take what Eris says with a grain of salt,” she rolled her eyes. “He’s been struggling to hold back just as much as we have. He’s desperate too.”

The High Lord paused his movements along your neck, amber eyes narrowing at her. “Careful, Nesta.” He purred. “I had planned on being generous to my mates tonight, I’d hate for it to turn into an evening of punishment and teaching that smart mouth of yours a lesson.”

Nesta bit the corner of her lip,and you couldn’t help but notice the sudden shift in the position of her thighs. She shot Eris a glare, lifting her chin with a challenge. “You wish.”

Before Eris could reply, you let out a snort of laughter at her boldness. A mistake, it seemed, as both your mates whipped their heads sharply towards you. Your stomach fluttered with a delicious fear, one that sent heat between your legs. 

“Is something funny?” Nesta asked, a hint of a smirk behind her lips.

You shook your head, resisting the urge to chuckle again. Truthfully, you were impressed with the self-restraint of your mates. For so many, the snapping of the mating bond ignited a weeks long frenzy of fucking. But even after the bond snapped between you, Nesta, and Eris, there had been next to no sexual touching. Every ounce of your being desired to ravage your mates, but Eris’s wishes to refrain until the wedding were the string that held you together. No, your male mate liked control. It was something you had always known about him, something that often made your imagination run wild with other types of control he would enjoy exercising. While you certainly liked your fair share of being in charge, you craved Eris’s approval that came with doing what he asked… after a good amount of mouthing off, that is.

Nesta had held herself together almost as well as Eris, refusing to give into your sly attempts to find a loophole in his command the last few weeks. She shared very little of what her and Cassian had done together, but you were itching to find out what she liked. To explore what buttons you could push, the sounds you could draw out from her plush lips…

Your thoughts were abruptly cut off as Eris’s hand found its way into the locks of hair by your scalp, expertly tugging and pulling your head back against his solid chest. The moan that escaped you was completely involuntary, your body going haywire at the simple action of your mate. 

“Nesta asked you a question,” Eris said sternly, forcing you to look up at him. Your breath caught in your throat as he tilted your head back enough for him to stare down at you. His amber eyes were dark with lust, the crown upon his head and the smug look on his face painting the perfect picture of royal arrogance. “It would do you well to answer it.”

This time you managed to catch the whimper in your throat as Eris tilted your head to the side so you were upright and facing Nesta again. The way he moved your body around as if you were a piece of chess on his playing board sent a new wave of arousal through you. You felt torn in two, part of you wanting to submit and let him use you as he pleased while the other part wanted to challenge him and face the consequences he would no doubt dole out.

Nesta’s arms were crossed, pushing up her breasts ever so slightly, which your hungry eyes noticed right away. She raised a groomed eyebrow, “well?”

Deciding to give both of them what they wanted for now, you answered. “What’s funny is I thought you’d be more submissive, Nesta. Your remark caught me off guard. After all, I know how badly you want to please Eris.” The first sentence was entirely untrue, something all three of you knew. But you couldn’t help but add kindling to the fire. The masochistic part of your brain wanted to see how you’d be punished, and if it’d be enough to break you into submission.

“Brave words for somebody who’s about to be at her mercy.” Eris’s voice was low and smooth, his lips returning to your ear. 

Nesta simply stared you down evenly, wicked cunningness lurking behind her eyes. “Pathetic, she wants us to not be nice to her and is trying to goad us into doing what she wants.”

You shook your head, but excitement ran through your veins. You heard Eris chuckle from behind you, and Nesta let out an exhale. With the mating bond still so fresh and the three of you in such close proximity, you knew they had felt your body’s every reaction as if it were their own. Despite the chill autumn breeze, the room felt stiflingly hot.

Eris’s hands moved higher on your hips, fingers spreading and ever so slightly grazing the underside of your breast through the fabric of your dress. Nesta stepped forward as well, so close you could smell the honey-lemon tart she ate for dessert on her breath. Her cheeks were flushed with desire, but her eyes still donned that stern expression that drove you crazy. Before you could say anything, her slender fingers reached down and brushed against the inside of your legs through your skirts. An icy hot shiver went up your spine at the contact, and you couldn’t help but arch into Eris, who at this point was responsible for holding you upright.

“So, it seems that you have a choice to make, my dear,” Eris said in your ear, rubbing agonisingly slow circles along your sides with his fingers. “How do you want this night to go? Do you want me to be nice and focus on making you both feel good, hm?” With those last few words, Eris gave your hair another pull, tilting your head further to the right and exposing more of your neck. You cried out as his lips and teeth finally found your skin, gently kissing and biting with the perfect amount of pressure. Instantly, your breathing became uneven, your body desperate for more.

After a few moments of pleasuring the sensitive skin on your neck, Eris removed his lips and continued. “Or perhaps, you want something a little different, for me to be mean and turn you into more of a desperate mess than you already are.”

Suddenly, the gentle strokes of his lips and tongue from before were replaced with sharp canines sinking into your skin. You gasped, a new wave of arousal rushing through you like the waves of a storm. His teeth stung in the most delicious way, mixing with the pleasure arising in your body and making your head spin.

“I think we have our answer.” Nesta chuckled, moving her hands to rest on your hip bones just below Eris’s. “But I want to hear her say it.”

“I…” You stuttered, world reeling from the whispers of touches from Nesta’s hands on your hips mixed with the harsh biting at your neck from your other mate behind you. “I want you to do your worst.”

“Masochistic little fox.” Eris purred. “If you need us to stop, please speak up at any point. This may not be the traditional coupling of mates, but I want you to enjoy it.”

“Nothing about us is traditional.” You couldn’t help but chuckle.

“That is true.” Nesta added. As if she couldn’t take the close proximity anymore, she crashed her lips into yours, squeezing your hips as she did so. Immediately, you placed your hands on her biceps, pulling her closer and moaning into the contact. Her mouth was soft yet all-consuming, and wetness almost immediately pooled between your legs. Nesta’s kisses have always turned you on in the several that you shared, but this was different. Before, they had been tender and longing, like a prayer echoing through an abandoned church. 

There was nothing tender about the way she was kissing you now. If her previous kisses were like a gentle creek flowing through the woods, this kiss was a tsunami. It bewitched your body and soul, her lips bold and claiming you wholly. You were hers, and she was yours – that’s all her kiss told you. You pulled her even closer, her chest brushing up against yours as Eris’s hands explored further, grazing your breasts more and more with each movement. You shuddered between them, lifting a hand and bringing it around Nesta’s neck, squeezing the back of it. She let out a moan, and you used the opportunity of her slack jaw to slip your tongue into her mouth, brushing her lips and tasting every inch of her.

After several minutes of being utterly consumed by the female, you felt her pull away. You let out a whine that was cut off abruptly as you were spun around to face Eris. His green cloak and dazzling crown had been discarded already, leaving him in his red and gold robes. Even without the royal symbols, there was no mistaking his power and status. It sent a thrill through you as you stared up at the male. Chuckling, Eris’s hand wove into your hair again as he pulled you forward, pressing his lips into yours. He was rougher than Nesta, a different kind of dominance, one that was nearly overwhelming. His lips were firm against yours, commanding every ounce of your attention, and you gladly gave it to him. The hand in your hair kept you immobile, unable to resist any which way Eris chose to move you.

You felt Nesta stir behind you, and after a few moments the strings trying together the back of the dress began to loosen. Her fingers expertly undid the material, and you eagerly pulled your arms from the long sleeves while keeping your lips glued to Eris. A shiver came over your body as Nesta’s fingers grazed your newly exposed skin, pulling the soft white and red fabric down your body and letting it fall to a heap on the floor before delicately removing the emerald necklace. Nesta also reached out and pulled the remaining few bobby pins out of your hair, releasing it from the previous mess of an updo it had become. 

You stood there in your underwear, skin covered in a thin layer of sweat from the evening’s festivities. You did not feel the urge to shy away and cover yourself as you had when getting undressed with previous lovers. Even as Eris pulled away and took a step back to drink in your naked form, you did not cower. You were his equal, and he yours. He would come to know your body like the back of his hand, there was no use in trying to hide it.

His amber eyes went from lustful to angry as they found the scar below your belly button, that cursed letter ‘M’ that his brother had carved into your skin. You bit your lip, pushing back memories of those awful encounters with Malgorm. 

“I hate the gods for letting this happen.” Eris muttered angrily, staring at the scar as if enough willpower could wash it away. “I am so sorry–”

You took a step forward, pressing your fingers against his lips to shush him. “What’s done is done,” You murmured. “We cannot change the past. We can find a way to permanently glamour the scar, as I do not wish for it to be on my body any more than you wish to gaze upon it, my love. Let’s not worry about it for now, okay?”

A slender hand on your shoulder made you turn to face Nesta. She had removed her crown and dress as well, leaving her just as naked as you. But her face was serious, breaking the teasing tension of the room as she spoke. “Are you sure this is okay? After everything that has happened, we don’t have to do this right away. We can wait.”

You shook your head. “No,” You said firmly. “I want this. I want you both. If I was unsure I would have said so. I trust you.”

Nesta’s voice was soft. “Okay. But is there anything off limits that might cause you to become… discomforted?”

You thought for a moment, hating the memories that flashed through your mind. But you endured it. Nesta was right – before anything happened, boundaries needed to be stated. “My neck…” You said slowly, remembering how hard Malgorm had grabbed you. “I don’t want pressure on my neck, please.”

Nesta nodded with understanding. You turned around to face Eris, whose gaze had softened. “I can work with that.” He said gently.

“What about you, Nesta?” You asked, facing your female mate once again. “What’s off limits for you?”

At first, the female visibly tensed, as if fighting off the urge to put those walls back up that she had so firmly in place when you first met her. Getting Nesta to be vulnerable with sex would be a journey, that much you knew. After how she described her couplings with Cassian and other males, this discussion of limits seemed new to her. She blinked slowly, and you could see the wheels in her mind turning. 

“Take your time,” you said softly, grabbing Eris’s hand and squeezing it reassuringly.

“My head…” Nesta said quietly after a moment, her eyes slightly glazed over as if reliving memories. “I would appreciate it if my head was not held down or restricted.”

Immediately, your mind thought of all the instances that explained this. The kelpie, the Cauldron, the human male who assaulted her, it all made sense. You nodded, then faced Eris once again to take the pressure off of Nesta. “And what about you, husband? Anything off limits?”

Eris scoffed half heartedly. “Nope. I am content with anything.”

You elbowed him lightly in the stomach, rolling your eyes. “You’re not funny. We’re trying to have a discussion here and you ruined it.”

The male made a noise of agreement, his eyes sobering up for a second before he sighed, removing the crown from his head and moving his fingers to unlace his robes. Nesta came up to stand beside you, her hand sliding into yours but her eyes fixed on Eris. Both of you stared as the male removed his robes and unlaced his tunic. You felt Nesta’s breath catch as Eris’s bare torso was revealed. Slender muscles were covered in faint scars. They looked to be from some sort of burning lashes – Beron’s doing, no doubt. Bile rose in your throat at the sight before you, at the thought of how bad these injuries must have been to still be scarred centuries later.

“My father liked to use his own fire on me,” Eris said slowly. “The wounds from the beatings disappeared fast, but my…. harsher punishments involved fire. I think in a way, he wanted me to fear our fire. But like many things in life, he failed.” He let out a hoarse laugh. “For this reason, I do not wish for pain to be inflicted upon me during sex. While I will inflict it if it’s something you want, I am firmly against being on the receiving end of it.”

“I understand.” You said, and Nesta murmured in agreement. Even with the scars, your body still heated up at the sight of Eris shirtless. They marked his skin like stars in the night sky, glowing in the candlelight. He was strikingly beautiful, every inch of him. From the way Nesta’s breathing changed beside you, he was having the same effect on her, too.

Finally, the arrogant smirk returned to Eris’s face. “Excellent, now that we are all in agreement…” His amber gaze fell upon you, making your knees weak as he spoke with lethal command, “Get on the bed.”

You rolled your eyes at him, but obliged, giving Nesta a quick kiss on the cheek on your way over. The mattress was soft and plushy as you sank down onto it, and you briefly wondered if you even wanted to know how much it had cost. 

All distracting thoughts vanished from your head as Nesta strode over, prowling like a dragon approaching a lost sheep. The silver light from the moon and the golden light from the candles illuminated her soft curves in an otherworldly way, the coronet now evolved into a simple loose, messy braid coming over her shoulder. She smirked as you leaned up to kiss her from your sitting position. Before your lips could reach hers, she chuckled and abruptly pushed you back so you were laying down. The yelp you let out as you unexpectedly fell back was cut off by a kiss, her mouth swallowing any noise you made as you melted beneath her. The rich scent of your combined arousals flooded the room, filling your senses.

Nesta’s thighs straddled you as she pressed her body into yours, her creamy skin brushing against you and making your nerves go haywire as she shifted her mouth to your throat, planting gentle kisses there before sliding further down your body. You reached down to try and pull her back up so you could touch her, but two silver flames appeared around your wrists, gently guiding them up over your head and twining into the bedframe, leaving your hands tied. You whimpered in complaint, causing Nesta to stop her kisses just above your breast. 

“I’m sorry, did you want to touch me?” She asked huskily, eyes dark. Her lips moved just above your nipple, her breath sending the bud into a peak.

“Yes.” You said breathily, trying to keep the desperate tone out of your voice.

Nesta gave your nipple a quick lick, causing your entire body to twitch before she continued. “Too bad, you have to earn it.”

“And how do I do that?” You snapped in frustration, unable to stop yourself. 

As quick as a snake, Nesta reached under your thigh and hoisted your hips off the mattress. With her other hand, she reached underneath and slapped your ass. Hard. Instinctively, you moaned loudly, pain and pleasure coursing through your body and creating even more wetness between your legs. Through half-open eyes, you saw Nesta blink in surprise then smile wickedly. She turned to Eris, who had discarded his bottoms and was palming himself through his underwear. A silent conversation passed between them, and you shivered with anticipation before Nesta turned back towards you. “Lose the attitude, love,” she said.

You huffed, but tried to force the attitude out of your voice. “Boring. What do I have to do to earn it?”

“You’ll have to beg us to let you cum, and you’ll ask permission to do so.”

“I don’t beg.”

“Oh but you will,” Eris chimed in, gently gliding his fingers down Nesta’s spine as she took your nipple in her mouth, causing you to moan. “And you’ll love every second of it.”

You couldn’t deny that. All you could focus on was Nesta’s mouth on you, her other hand fondling the other breast. All the squirming in the world was useless against those silver flame restraints, which was unyielding. Finally, Nesta shuffled down so she was kneeling on the ground with her upper body between your thighs. Involuntarily, your legs automatically widened as she settled in, which did not go unnoticed.

“Wow, you are desperate for me, aren’t you?” Nesta teased, running a finger up your inner thigh. “The lightest of touches have you soaked through your underwear, I can’t imagine how you’ll react when I get my mouth on you.”

You whimpered at her words that washed over you like warm water. You had never been this wet, this aching to be touched. Nesta was smug as her finger ghosted over your clothed slit, feeling the wetness of the thin material. Your hips jolted at the sensation, electric shock wracking your nerves. 

Your mates were going to be the death of you. Every instinct screamed to find a way out of the restraints and pounce on Nesta and Eris, but your desire to please them overpowered it.

“My, my, she’s sensitive,” Eris mocked. “I don’t think she’ll be able to handle what we’ve got planned.”

“She will,” Nesta said sternly before glancing up at you. “Won’t you?”

You nodded in blind agreement, the anticipation of not knowing what was coming next both exciting and terrifying you. “Good girl,” Nesta replied before grabbing your panties and tearing them in two, revealing your soaking wet pussy. She moaned at the sight of your exposed core, making you pool even further. Every sound she made, every look she gave you was enough to drive you crazy. Your thighs were near trembling as she lightly touched your clit, the contact with the sensitive bundle of nerves making you jump and your thighs twitch.

“Look how wet she is,” Eris said. “And we haven’t even done anything…”

Your eyes snapped open fully when you realised he had removed his underwear and was stroking his cock. Your mouth practically watered at the sight of the male with his hand wrapped around his long cock, a smug expression on his face as he stared down at you like you were a piece of meat served up on a platter. “See something you like?” He said arrogantly as he noted your expression.

“Mother above, do I ever,” You replied breathlessly. “My brain doesn’t even know where to focus.”

Nesta said, “I think I can remedy that.” Without another word, the female’s head dove between your thighs, her tongue sliding up from your entrance to your clit before wrapping her lips around the bud and sucking. Bursting with pleasure, your back arched off the bed, hands angrily pulling against the restraints begging to touch Nesta. She repeated the pattern, licking and sucking in all the right spots and making your eyes roll back in your head. 

Cursing under your breath, you let out moans as Nesta ate you out. Her hands were wrapped around your thighs, burying herself as far into you as she could. You could feel her enjoyment and desire through the mating bond, which intensified the experience tenfold. Never before had you been this turned on this fast. Nesta had already figured out what made your body sing and was playing it like a violin. Eris was kneeling behind Nesta, pressing kisses all over her back. The sight of it turned you on even more.

You could pinpoint the exact moment Eris’s fingers found Nesta’s pussy. The female let out a moan that sent vibrations into your core, making your moan echo off of hers. The room was filled with the wet sounds of Nesta’s mouth on you and Eris’s fingers rubbing Nesta’s clit. Her face was screwed up with pleasure and a focused determination, her tongue never relenting against you.

“Isn’t she making you feel so good?” Eris asked you. “Nesta seems like she’s already doing very good with her mouth, I can’t wait to test it out myself.”

“So fucking good…” You murmured, causing Nesta to moan in approval between your legs.

The sounds between Nesta’s thighs intensified as Eris slipped a finger into her, curling it in a way that had her squirming in between you two. “Do you know how many nights I’ve had to get myself off to refrain from storming into your rooms and dragging both of you into my bed to be fucked senseless? I’ve had so many fantasies about what I want to do to you two, even with an eternity ahead of us I don’t know if we’ll have time to complete them all…” The male continued, cocking his head and pushing his hips forward, letting his cock rub against Nesta’s ass. “Is this everything you dreamed of, my love, hmm?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed, hands gripping onto the headboard as you writhed underneath Nesta’s mouth. The pleasure was almost overwhelming, coupled with the sight of Eris behind Nesta’s kneeling form with his knuckles buried inside her, you felt yourself approaching the journey to your climax within ten minutes, a new record for you.​ Your mate between your legs whimpered as Eris’s movements seemingly sped up, but she kept her blue-grey eyes open and looking up at you. Incoherent noises escaped your throat as you began to plead. “Please…” you begged. “I’m getting close…”

“Close to what?” Eris asked mockingly, his voice perfectly even as if he wasn’t curling his fingers inside Nesta so tactfully that she was shaking slightly. “You have to use your words, my love.”

You felt your orgasm building at a rapid pace, coming crashing towards you like a tidal wave. “Please… I’m gonna–” Your words were abruptly cut off as you were unable to hold back the inevitable. Like water overflowing a cup, your orgasm washed over you, spreading that warm electric sensation through your nerve endings. Nesta groaned with pleasure as your hips bucked against her face, grinding into it as you rode out your high. The world went silent around you in those few, stretched out seconds. It was an orgasm unlike any you had ever experienced.

With shaking legs you caught your breath and Nesta finally removed her tongue from your cunt. You watched through hooded lids as she leaned her head back, and Eris bent down and kissed her hungrily, lapping up your juices. One of his hands grabbed her breast, squeezing it in his fingers and making her moan into his mouth. They were like two gods in a painting before you, one you would happily stare at for the rest of your life.

The silver flames around your wrists vanished, and you eagerly brought your arms back down to stretch them out. When Nesta and Eris eventually separated, they turned their gazes towards you. And you knew you were fucked from the wicked look in their eyes.

“I’m sorry–” You began apologising, but Eris cut you off.

“We asked you to do one thing, and you couldn’t even do it…” He said with gleeful disappointment. “A shame, I had such a lovely reward in mind for you if you had just been a good girl.”

Nesta scoffed. “I think she wanted the punishment.”

“She will regret that very soon.” Eris stood up and strode over to your side of the bed, grabbing a fistful of your hair and forcing you to look up at him. “Did we say you could cum?”

You shook your head, earning you another harsh tug that elicited a moan. “I asked you a question,” Eris hissed. “Did we say you could cum?”

“No…” You stuttered weakly, shrinking beneath his and Nesta’s gazes.

“Then why did you?”

“It felt too good, I couldn’t stop it.”

“Do you think flattery will keep you from punishment?”

You sheepishly shrugged. “A girl can dream, right?”

Eris barked out a laugh, grabbing you gently by the hands and guiding you off the bed. Your legs still felt weak, and had it not been for Eris you would have surely stumbled in your first few steps. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Nesta smugly smirking at her handiwork, her cheeks flushed. 

But Eris’s hand grasped your chin, turning your focus to him as you met his gaze. “Go to the empty space on the wall,” He said slowly. “And place your hands on it and spread your legs.”

You baulked, eyes widening. The evil grin on his face sent chills up your spine. Despite your recent orgasm, your body began to heat up again. Knowing better than to protest this time, you did as you were told. The sound of your footsteps echoed throughout the large bedroom as you walked over to the gap in the wall between the fireplace and the corner area. Taking a deep breath, you faced the wall and placed your hands on the smooth wood. It was cold beneath your touch, a soothing sensation against your sweating palms. You mentally cursed your body at how quickly it was recovering and ready for a second round. The mating bond was thick with desire so palpable you could feel it.

You heard footsteps coming up behind you, and you knew without looking that it was Eris. His presence could be felt creeping up on you as if it were your own shadow. You flinched as he put his hands on your waist, pressing his chest into your back. His cock rubbed against your ass as it did with Nesta’s, causing you to suck in a sharp breath. “If you want something, you have to ask for it,” Eris murmured in your ear. “Those are my rules, and you have already broken them. I am going to spank you ten times, and you’re going to fucking take it. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Eris.” You whimpered. Behind you, his cock twitched at the moaning of his name and the male groaned. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Nesta take a seat in the nearby chair with a glass of white wine in hand. She had run a comb through her hair, and when she caught your gaze she raised an eyebrow. “Don’t look at me for help,” she chided. “You’ve done this to yourself. I will not get you out of this.”

You sighed, trembling in anticipation and waiting with bated breath for the first strike. Wasting no time, it came seconds later. Eris’s hand came down on your right ass cheek, hard. From your throat came a guttural cry, one you didn’t know you were capable of making. It was a cross between a scream and a moan, crossing into the latter as the impact from the initial sting melted into a white hot pleasure. You barely had time to recover before the second one came on the other cheek this time, drawing out the same response.

“Good girl…” Eris murmured, rubbing your ass and pressing a kiss between your shoulder blades. You sighed beneath his touch, melting into it. 

But the tenderness didn’t last long. By the seventh spank, tears pricked the corners of your eyes. 

“Aw, look at her, Eris,” Nesta spoke up. “You’ve made her cry.”

Your laboured breaths drowned out his response as you pressed your forehead into your arms, which you had valiantly kept pressed against the wall. Your ass stung and sweat dripped down your forehead. But the cherry on top was your dripping cunt. Wetness had seeped down your thighs, glistening in the candlelight of the room on display for everyone to see.

You felt Eris’s hand brush some stray hairs out of your face, and he leaned in close to murmur into your ear, “Are you okay?”

“Mhm,” You whispered, nodding feverishly. 

There was no teasing in your mate’s voice as he spoke. “Do we need to stop?”

“No,” You insisted. “I can handle three more, I promise.”

You felt Eris nod against you before pulling away and continuing to rub your ass, which already donned the formations of several dark bruises. You turned your head towards Nesta, who was watching the scene with lust in her eyes. “You’re doing so well, my love,” she said tenderly. “You can do it.”

With a newfound determination, you forced your body to relax as Eris’s hand came down again with a loud smack, making you wince and grow wetter at the same time. Then again, and again. Finally, after the tenth smack, you collapsed your head into your arms again, panting. Your legs felt as weak as a newborn deer, gangly and unstable. You didn’t even have the energy to react as Eris swiped his fingers through your slip, sampling the wetness gathered there. 

He chuckled darkly. “My, my, somebody sure enjoyed that.”

“I’m not surprised, given her reaction to my one slap earlier.” Nesta said, placing her wine glass on the table next to her before standing up and making her way over to where you and Eris were standing. She wiped some sweat from your brow with a cloth and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Well done.”

“Is my punishment over?” You asked weakly.

“Not quite,” Eris responded, gently guiding you over to the chair Nesta had been seated in. “You’ve demonstrated a lack of patience, which is unacceptable. So you are going to learn to be patient, and you are going to sit here and watch me fuck Nesta.”

“And you’re not allowed to touch yourself,” Nesta added sternly as Eris pushed you into the chair, which was now turned to face the bed and had a glass of water next to it. Truthfully, your body was relieved at the idea of getting a break. Your muscles ached from the trembling, and the idea of watching your mates fuck each other made your body heat up. So you nodded, getting a kiss on the cheek from each of your mates before they made their way to the bed. After taking a sip of the ice cold water, you leaned back in the plushy chair.

Nesta knelt on the bed, her long locks cascading down her back as she looked up at Eris. He stood before her at the edge of the bed like an altar she was worshipping, his lean muscles illuminated by the moon. He bent down and kissed Nesta as if she contained the last molecules of air left in this universe, his lips moulding into hers perfectly. You couldn’t help but bite your lip as you watched her shoulders relax as she melted into his kiss. Desire began to build in you once again, just by watching your mates share a heated kiss.

With a shove on the shoulder, Eris pushed Nesta into the bed so she was laying down. He wasted no time crawling over her body and pressing heated kisses across her chest. As his mouth came to her nipple, Nesta moaned and wound a hand in the male’s red locks, arching her back into his touch. Your palms itched with the urge to go over there and help, but the soreness of your ass reminded you to stay in your seat. 

“Fuck, these are gorgeous…” Eris murmured before switching to her other breast. He groaned into the mound of flesh as Nesta’s grip in his hair tightened, the animalistic sound echoing throughout the chamber.

Don’t touch yourself, you reminded yourself. No matter how hot the scene before you was, and despite the fact you normally loved being punished, you knew your mates were the type to only be so forgiving.

Grabbing one of Nesta’s long legs, Eris placed a kiss on the inside of her calf, working his way down. Nesta’s breathing shifted, her hips squirming to try and meet his face, but the male swerved every time and kissed her thigh instead. More arousal pooled between your legs as you watched Nesta squirm beneath Eris.

“Please, Eris…” Nesta breathed, her cheeks red and eyes half closed with desire.

The red haired male stopped, his lips centimetres above her pussy. “Please what?”

“Please use your mouth on me…”

Nesta’s pleas made you whimper. All you wanted to do was go over there and satisfy her, to have her clamp her thighs around your head until the world crumbled into ash before you. Eris turned his head to face you, where you were gripping the arms of the chair. “See how she asked nicely?” He said to you, “Now she’s going to get what she wants. It’s that simple.”

His pale fingers gripped Nesta’s hips tightly, pinning them down to the mattress as he brought his face between her legs and began his work. Immediately, Nesta let out a loud moan – she was much more vocal than you, letting her noises out shamelessly as she was pinned down. After several minutes, Eris easily slid two fingers into Nesta, stretching her out yet still keeping her hips still with only one hand. 

“Oh, fuck…” Nesta cried out as Eris curled his fingers inside her, one of her hands gripping the sheets while the other palmed her breast. Her eyes fluttered closed, and it was only minutes later when Eris pulled away. Nesta whined at the loss of contact, and he let out a growl, grabbing her leg and hitching it up against his waist. You watched with a slack jaw and clenched legs as Eris lined his cock up with Nesta’s entrance before slowly pushing it in. 

Nesta’s face contorted, her eyes squeezing shut and mouth opening in pleasure as Eris pushed himself to the hilt. His head tilted back, and his jaw clenched with pleasure. You dug your fingernails into the palms of your hand so hard it almost bled, the sensation of watching your mates’ blissed out expressions almost overpowering.

Eris leaned over Nesta, one hand on her thigh keeping it up against his hip while the other planted itself beside her shoulder. It only took a few minutes for him to pound in and out of Nesta, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room and drowning out Nesta’s moans. Eris was fucking Nesta hard, her toes visible curling with each thrust.

As Nesta’s legs began to tremble not ten minutes later, Eris slowed down his thrusts, making her whine. He turned his head towards you, a devilish grin on face. “So, my dear,” he said to you. “Do you think Nesta deserves to cum?”

Surprise flickered in you, and seemingly in Nesta too, for she turned her head sharply to look at you with wide eyes as Eris’s hand rubbed her clit. “P…please…” she begged you, desperation written all across your face.

You were torn in two. You wanted nothing more than to see Nesta cum, to watch her writhe underneath Eris as she rode out a blissful high. But the sinister part of you wanted to show her that you weren’t the only one who could take charge.

After a minute, you came to your decision. “No.”

“What?!” Nesta sputtered angrily as Eris pulled out of her, chuckling. Her hair was stuck to her face, her lips swollen from kissing and her cheeks red. Her grey eyes shot you a  furious glare.

“That’s my devilish little fox,” Eris purred, beckoning you over with a finger. “You took your punishment very well, and I think it’s time for a reward.”

“Please,” you begged pathetically as you laid down on the bed beside Nesta, desperate for any physical contact. 

Sensing that, Eris gave you a quick kiss before grabbing your hips and spreading your legs with his knees. You were so soaking wet that after checking your comfort with two fingers, Eris lined himself up with your entrance and slammed into you with ease. The breath was knocked out of your lungs at the impact, the delicious stinging pain of the stretch quickly melting into pleasure as it had with the spanks. He gave you no time to adjust before pounding into you, his soft grunts filling the air.

Beside you, Nesta sat up, a playful look in her eyes replacing the furious one. She grabbed your hair just as Eris had, forcing you to look at her. “Since you decided to be a brat and not let me finish after I was so nice to you, I’m going to sit on that pretty face of yours to shut you up and use you to finish myself off. Got it?”

About to burst with happiness that your plan worked, you nodded eagerly, shifting your shoulders to get more comfortable. Seeing the smugness on your face, Nesta rolled her eyes but released her hair, spinning her hips to face Eris. She then swung her leg over your face, leaning forward to place her hands on your breasts and play with them as she lowered herself down.

You moaned into her pussy, tasting the mixture of her and Eris on your tongue, eagerly lapping it up. You used the tip of your tongue to flick her clit, making her legs twitch around your head. Repeating patterns of licking and sucking, you gripped Nesta’s hips tightly as she grinded herself into your face.

Eris’s thrusts had somehow gotten more powerful, making you whimper into Nesta. Your wife let out a moan at the vibration, then Eris’s fingers found your clit. You were oversensitive, and as a result moaned repeatedly between Nesta’s thighs. Her legs began to shake around you, her hands squeezing your breasts as she panted, “Can I please cum?”

“Yes.” Eris grunted, his own thrusts getting sloppier as he chased his own release. Seconds later, Nesta moaned wantonly, her legs clenching your head and shaking like an earthquake as you sucked on her clit, drawing out her release. She cried out, her orgasm wracking her body as she grinded her hips into your face even more. You happily took it, whimpering as her moans spurred both you and Eris on towards your own release. 

As Nesta dragged her trembling self off of your body, she flopped down beside you. Her fingers quickly took Eris’s hand’s place at your clit, rubbing back and forth harshly. You nearly screamed at the sudden pressure, white hot pleasure pooling in your gut ready to burst.

“Come for me, my love,” Nesta purred in your ear.

That was all it took to send you over the edge. Your muscles clenched as your release shot through you, and you gasped with the sudden wave of pleasure. Nesta murmured praises in your ear as you rode your high, and Eris let out a growling moan as his hips sputtered, your clenching around his cock spurring on his orgasm. You cried out as his cum shot into you, the sensation almost overwhelming and prolonging your high. 

Finally, the ironclad grip on your hips released and Eris slowly pulled himself out of you. Your legs twitched, all three of you panting in an attempt to catch your breath. Deep down, you felt whole, as if the mating bond had somehow grown even stronger since before the wedding. It was as if a piece of you had been missing before you met Nesta and Eris, and they were slowly filling that void with pieces of their own.

“Does anyone fancy joining me for a shower? I’ll have someone deliver our favourite snacks afterwards,” Eris asked, standing up and holding his hands out for you and Nesta. Eagerly, you both took his extended hands and headed towards the newly built bathing room.

As the three of you stood under the multiple shower heads, tenderly washing each other when needed, you felt happy tears prick your eyes. The Nesta you met six months ago was a shell of herself, angry, with walls as high as Ramiel that refused to be crumbled by anyone. She was an object in another male’s court, a pawn in the games he played. An aggressive animal that was to be locked in a cage and only lured out when they had use for her. That Nesta never would have let anyone wash her hair, or cuddle beside her in bed. The Nesta standing beneath the shower with you was a changed female, one who knew her value and was now finally free to make her own choices without threats being made at every corner. She laughed freely, smiled more often, and the life had returned to her eyes.

Eris was a male who you never thought would tenderly kiss your forehead, or kneel before you to help you wash your legs. To be raised in an environment as harsh as Beron’s shadow, you knew how lucky you truly were that his heart stayed good. No matter how often he would deny it, you knew he was a good male.

And so all of the horrors you had faced in the last six months washed away with your happy tears in the shower, your wife and your husband beside you to hold you up no matter what.

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[silver-tongued-bby]

The Fall - Chapter I

Pairing: Manipulative!Dom!Loki x Sub!fem!Reader

This work is set in an AU.

Words: ~2,400

Summary: A chance encounter at the grocery store has you second guessing yourself and well, everything else.

This is work of fiction is 18+!!!!, and contains graphic descriptions of rough sex, manipulation, sadism, Loki who likes to see you cry, a dom/sub dynamic, a broken reader with family issues, cigarette smoking. Please do not interact if you are a minor or are sensitive towards any of the themes mentioned above.

~~~

It really was a bad fucking day. 

The exaggeratedly bad type of day that was reserved for shitty romcoms or late-night comedies, the ones that made your stomach curl. Everything that could go wrong did. 

And so here you were, feeling sorry for yourself as you vacantly stared at the neatly stacked ice cream containers behind the glass. You rubbed your eyes and caught a glimpse of someone in the reflection, flinching with a start. 

It took you a moment to recognise her - that girl. The one that showed up when you were at your lowest. That girl that looked so much like you, but without the mask. The mask that made you a functioning member of society, that got you jobs, friends, and dates. You looked at this girl, the one with tears in her eyes wrapped in a men’s coat four sizes too big for her and wondered when exactly she’d come into existence. It seemed she’d always been there, growing as her parents did their very best to do their absolute worst. 

You blinked again, sighing at your reflection before turning around, vacant stare now aimed at the boxes of crackers behind you. You weren’t hungry - not really. Your feet had just carried you to your car, so you drove yourself here, as if a 1AM visit to the grocery store would fix things. 

Blinking away the fresh tears, you grabbed a box of Cheez-Its off the shelf and turned, your bleary eyes meeting those of the stranger at the end of the aisle. 

Something in his stare stopped you, pinned you in place. His expression was neutral, but something in that blue-green told you to turn around and run, though your clever feet had seemingly retired for the evening. 

You could tell he was handsome, though you didn’t lift your gaze from his. You felt as if he’d somehow stripped you bare, easily seeing all you desperately tried to hide. 

You opened your mouth to speak, though you hadn’t the slightest idea of what to say. His eyes flickered down to the box in your hand before snapping back to your own and a second later he carried on, walking past the aisle to the next.

You stood there on uneasy legs, a frown tugging at your features. What the fuck was that? 

You shivered, your heart racing, the frown deepening when you felt heat pooling between your legs. You looked to the box of Cheez-Its, then back to where he stood. No, really. What the fuck was that?

You weren’t one to make eye contact in public, especially not when you were alone, learning young of the attention it brought. But something in the way he’d looked at you made you want it - want him to look at you again. 

You stopped yourself from following him, shaking your head as you walked to the front of the store. It was 1AM and you were alone in a deserted grocery store. What the hell are you doing? 

Your eyes cleared a little as you made your way to the checkout counter, the stranger filling your thoughts. The only clerk working was a teenage boy, who rung up your box and gave you your total in a monotone drawl. You asked for a pack of cigarettes as well, thumbing the lighter in your pocket. 

“ID?” He asked, blinking slowly at you. 

“Fuck,” you mumbled, feeling around in your pockets for your wallet. You’d left the house with a $20 bill crumpled in the top pocket of the giant fishing coat you donned. “I don’t have it on me.” 

He shrugged, looking back at you. “Manager’s really up my ass lately. Can’t give them to you without ID. Sorry,” he shrugged again, taking the crumpled bill from you as the register opened.

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you did your very best not to cry in front of this poor kid. Taking the box and pocketing the change, you walked out through the sliding doors and into the night. 

Making it to your car, you pulled the keys from your pocket, the box in your other hand. You swore as the keychain slipped from your fingers, skidding against the pavement and under the only other car in the lot- parked just a spot away. 

“Fuck,” you groaned, debating on whether or not to just leave them and walk home. Sighing, you got on your hands and knees, spotting the mass of keys right between the tires. You tried to reach but felt nothing, the gravel stinging against your kneecaps. You found the tears started to fall again, the day catching back up with you. 

You sniffed, reaching under the car again, the keys still just out of your grasp. You sat up on your knees, shivering as you thought of what to do. You must’ve sat there for a solid minute or two, your knees aching as you wiped tear after tear from your heated skin. 

“Here.” You jumped at the sound of a man’s voice, looking up to see him standing above you, your keyring hooked on his finger. He wore the same expression as before, though his eyes looked darker in the low light. 

“Oh,” you sniffed again and stood, taking the keyring from him. You brushed some of the gravel off your knees, wiping another tear away with the back of your hand. “Sorry.” 

You turned to leave, embarrassed, when you felt his hand against your shoulder. You looked to him, your breath catching once more as he looked down at you, his stare more intense than before. 

“Your biscuits,” he said, the little smirk curling at the corner of his lip making you feel better and worse at the same time. You looked down, seeing the box at your feet. He withdrew his hand as you bent to pick it up. 

“Right,” you mumbled. 

“You want one?” He asked, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his pants pocket. 

You looked at his outstretched hand, the long fingers steady. Looking back to his face, the little smirk was gone. You reached out with a shaky hand, sliding a cigarette from the pack. He put one between his lips and swiftly lit it, holding out his lighter to you. 

“Thank you,” you lit the cigarette then handed him back his lighter. He took it, fingers brushing yours, though his eyes were trained on the highway across the street. You stood beside him in silence, the sound of a passing car filling the air every few seconds. 

“You’re pretty when you cry.” He’d turned to look at you as he’d said it, though you kept your eyes trained on the highway. 

“T-thanks,” you sniffed, glancing up at him, heart racing as he looked down at you with that intensity again. You swallowed. 

He held your gaze as he reached up, the tips of his fingers lightly touching your jaw as his thumb brushed away a tear. His eyes fell to your lips as you wet them, you could feel they were puffy as a result of your crying. Before your brain could catch up with his movements he’d withdrawn, pulling the cigarette from his lips to extinguish it beneath a boot. 

“I’m not always like this,” you said, his gaze lifting to meet yours. 

He quirked an eyebrow as he studied your face. 

You shifted on your feet. “I’m usually better- normal.”

He smirked, turning to open his car door. “Of course you are.” He slid inside, turning on the engine before pulling out of the empty lot, the vehicle’s acceleration loud once it hit the highway. 

You stared off in the direction he’d gone, wondering if that had really just happened. A shiver tore through you as you remembered the feel of his touch against your skin. 

You should have been outraged, or at the very least disturbed at the intimacy of the action, but all you could think of was how desperately you wanted it to happen again. 

You took one last drag off your cigarette and ducked into your front seat, peeling off the other way. 

~~~

Looking in the mirror, you adjusted your skirt before leaning forward to swipe a thumb at your eyeliner. Leaning backwards you but your lip, sticky with gloss as your heart hammered in your chest. 

You looked at your phone to check the time, letting out a shaky breath as you made for the door. 

The drive was quick, one you’d become familiar with over the past week as you visited in the dead of night. Your sick little ritual performed in the hopes of seeing him again. Pulling up to the lot, your heart leapt to your throat when you saw his car, the black expensive one, parked neatly near the front of the darkened deserted pavement. 

You parked a row back, locking your door as you walked quickly to the entrance. You shivered as the blast of air conditioning met your skin, eliciting goosebumps over your exposed arms. You bit your lip, deciding to take the long walk to the back aisle of the store. 

You stepped slowly, shoes clicking off the scuffed linoleum as you kept your gaze forward, using your peripherals to see within the aisles. You couldn’t help the little gasp that slipped from your lips when you caught sight of his lithe, dark figure. You could feel his gaze on you as you passed by, continuing on without a glance in his direction until you made it to the laundry detergent in the next aisle. Picking up a small jug, you made your way to the cash, paying for your purchase along with a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. 

You leant against your car, lighting up a cigarette. Taking one nervous drag after another, you finished it and pulled the carton back out, slipping a fresh one from the pack. Your eyes drifted to the sliding doors as they opened. 

You lit it up, watching him walk to his car. He glanced at you casually, opening his trunk for the bag in his hand. 

You bit your lip, pushing yourself off the cool metal before making your way to him. “Hey,” you called out, walking closer. 

He looked at you, that same gaze stripping you bare once more, making your fingers tremble around the cigarette. 

“I-I was here the other night,” you came closer, your heart pounding as you took in his handsome features. He was at least twice your age. “I wanted to say thanks,” you offered him a cigarette. “I was having a rough night.” 

He glanced at your hand before taking it from you. “I remember.” 

You nodded as he lit it up, taking a drag. 

“Is there something you want?” 

You opened your mouth, then shut it, unsure of what to say. What did you want from him?

There was that stare again. “How many times did you come to the grocery store at 1 in the morning this week?” 

Your eyes widened. 

He took a step closer. “The clerk inside told me you’d been by every night. Is that right?”

You found yourself nodding, the rest of you frozen in place. 

“And what were you looking for?” 

You swallowed. 

He waited. 

“You,” you called out, the small sound of your own voice surprising you. 

“And what is it that you want from me?”

“I don’t know,” it was a whimper - barely audible over the sound of a passing car. 

He didn’t say a word, simply pulling a phone from his back pocket. He handed it to you, opened to the new contact creator. 

You took it in your shaky hands, typing out your name and number before passing it back to him, his fingertips grazing yours. 

He put the phone back in his pocket. “You shouldn’t be hanging around here this late,” he put out his cigarette. “It isn’t safe.” 

You nodded. 

He slid into the drivers seat and pulled off, leaving you speechless and alone once again. 

~~~

It was a week before he texted you.

The first two days any notification you got made you scramble for your phone, heart pounding, only to be disappointed yet again. 

On the third day you started to lose hope, and wondered if you should go back to the grocery store. He’d told you not to - but what if that only meant he’d actually wanted you to? What if it was all a test? 

After sitting in your car in the driveway for an hour you decided to go to bed with a huff, only to do the exact same thing the night after. 

On the fifth day you did your best to push him from your mind - to stop the image of his face from popping up each time you closed your eyes. It didn’t work, so you spent the night awake, watching horror movies as you attempted to force him from your thoughts with blood and gore. 

The sixth day you drove past the grocery store at 1:03 AM, not seeing his car there as your heart sank in your chest. 

Then the seventh day came. And at eight o’clock on a Sunday you got a text, prompting you to lazily reach for your phone. You sat up straight when you saw the unknown number. 

Have you figured it out yet?

Figured out what? You responded in seconds, cursing yourself for not playing it cool. 

What you want from me.

Your heart raced as you reread the words, trying to think up a witty response. Only one thing echoed in your thoughts, and you found yourself typing it out, and staring at the words. 

I want you to pay attention to me. 

Before you could overthink it you hit send and closed your phone, throwing it to the other end of the couch. The soft ping made you reach for it, your heart in your throat. 

What are you willing to do for my attention? 

You swallowed, staring at the words. A normal person wouldn’t respond, recognising that statement for what it was. A red flag. A huge one at that. You knew what he was asking for, and yet you typed out a response, quickly hitting send. 

Anything. 

You watched the three dots at the bottom of the screen. 

Let’s get dinner.

~~~

To be continued...

~~~

Author's Note: Ok ok ok so this is very loosely based off of this one-off interaction I had at a grocery store (years ago), as well as a somewhat popular account on here that I am both fascinated and disgusted with at the same time. Reader is in for a sketchy time...

Thank you so much for checking out my latest work. A new chapter of Tear You Apart is coming soon.

And thank you to all of my followers for your continued support during my hiatus 🖤

As usual, likes, reblogs, and comments are always immensely appreciated. 🖤 🖤

[mynameismckenziemae]

Aint No Sunshine When She’s Gone-Chapter I

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Female Reader (no use of y/n)

You (Sunny) help your Aunt Penny out at the bar and are introduced to sweet, shy Bob by an old friend.

(Next chapter here)

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, handjob (m receiving), premature ejaculation, mentions of sexual harassment. Let me know if I missed anything.

Yep, Penny was right, you think as you roll through the parking lot, trying to find an open spot. The Hard Deck is packed.

You sigh as you shift your car into park. You were exhausted, but you knew Penny needed the help.

______________________________________________

*30 minutes earlier*

You were walking up the stairs to your apartment Penny’s garage as she was hurrying to her car.

“Where’s the fire?” You call. “Oh, hey! Jack called, I’m heading to the bar early—the new hire didn’t show and a carrier docked, so it’s a full house. I’ll see ya later, hon!”

“Do you want some help?” You offered. Bartending was the last thing you wanted to do tonight, but your Aunt Penny had done so much for you the past few years, it was the least you could do.

“Uhhh, yeah, that would be great. Maybe just ‘til 7 when Ashley comes? Are you sure though? I know you’re exhausted”.

You were exhausted. “No problem at all, let me just change and I’ll be on my way”.

“You’re a lifesaver, see you soon!”

_______________________________________________

You’d changed out of your scrubs into a pair of jean shorts and a plain black tee and here you were.

Let’s get this over with, you think with a sigh and open your car door.

_______________________________________________

“No, the blue one at the bottom, a little lower,” you hear the jerk behind you smile. “Yeah, actually grab me one from the way back so I know it’s cold. A little farther… ” he leers.

Alright, that’s enough. You rise, turn, and grab the $20 he laid on the bar. You pop the top and take a nice pull as you ring the bell. “Thanks for the beer. Now get out.”

“Excuse me?! You fucking bitc—“ he starts, but is interrupted by a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“Do we have a problem here?” Asks a thick-mustached aviator.

“Uhh, nope. I was just heading out. Have a good night” the jerk says, scurrying away with his friends.

“Bradley Bradshaw, long time no see” You smile, boosting yourself on the bottom shelf to hug him across the bar. “Thanks for that, by the way”.

You and Bradley had known each other since you were kids; your dads served together and your family remained close after Goose died. He was a few years older, something you never let him forget.

“No problem, you had it handled, I just wanted his seat. You look great.” He takes the now vacant spot. “What are you doing here? UCSD finally figured out you don’t know what you’re doing and fired ya?” He jokes, knowing you were at the top of your nursing class.

“Ha! No, I’m still there in the ER. Currently taking the flight nurse course though. Penny’s new hire didn’t show, and it was slammed, so I offered to help” you reply.

“Got tired of watching us flying and decided it was your turn?” Hangman says, pushing his way through to the bar to sit beside Bradley.

“Something like that” you smile, kissing his cheek. “Good to see you, Hangman”.

“Same, sweetheart. We just got back today, 4 months is way too long to be stuck on a boat.” Jake complains. You agree, there’s no way you could do that.

“Where’s dickhead?” Bradley asks, sipping his beer.

“You mean Derek? Back in Minnesota with his new girlfriend. Caught them in my bed after a 12-hour shift” You reply, sliding Jake a beer.

“Seriously? What a piece of shit. You’re better off. Never liked that fucker any way” Bradley mutters.

“Me either” Jake agrees.

“Honestly, I’m not sure I did either” you laugh. It was great in the beginning, but he was insecure and jealous; always accusing you of being unfaithful. You naturally were a bubbly, friendly person, but he was constantly berating for you for flirting and it had taken a toll on you. Always worrying that he was watching you and knowing he’d yell at you later for it, you started over analyzing everything and became a shell of the woman you’d been. When you’d moved across the country 9 months ago to live with Penny to complete the training for your dream job, it only got worse. He had moved out to be with you and not 2 months later you found him cheating. Dickhead indeed.

"You’ve always looked great honey, but you look lighter, happier; like your old self again. No wonder someone over by the pool table can’t take his eyes off ya" Jake winks.

You glance behind him and make eye contact with another khaki uniform. Deep blue eyes behind BCGs (birth control glasses), light brown hair, sinewy arms. You smile, which he returns, but quickly looks down, blushing.

“Tell me about him. I take it he’s shy?”

“Name’s Bob. Yeah, he’s shy. I don’t think I’ve seen him talk to a girl besides ‘Nix. He’s her new backseater, just moved out here before we sailed. He’s really fucking smart. From the Midwest, like you. All around good guy.” Bradley responds.

Someone starts shouting their order. “I better get back to it. I’ll be done around 7, wanna catch up?”

They nod, “We’ll be by the pool table whenever you’re ready.” Jake replies.

________________________________________

The bar is finally caught up a little after 7. You sneak into the employee bathroom to touch up your makeup and let your hair down from the clip you threw in. Taking a deep breath, you open the door and head out.

________________________________________

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!” Natasha says with a hug “How are ya?”

“Good “n you?” You reply, Minnesota accent slipping out.

“Good, happy to be stateside again. Hey, this is Bob, my new backseater.” Nat introduces you. “Bob, this is Sunny.”

“Nice to meet you Bob” you smile, shaking his hand.

“Uh yeah, likewise” he stammers, blushing again. “Is Sunny your real name? Or is it short for something?

“No, my real name is actually Aelia.” You cringe. “It means sunshine. But no one ever said it right, so my dad started calling me Sunny and it stuck. Is Bob short for anything?” You tease.

“Yeah, Big Ol’ Balls!” Bradley comes up behind him and squeezes his shoulders. Bob’s blush depends. “I’ve known Sunny here since she was in diapers, her old man was a wizzo too.”

You nod. “Yeah, my mom made him quit shortly after I came along though. He’s a commercial pilot now.”

You ask Bob a lot of questions, and he eventually starts to relax. You find out he grew up in a small town just a few hours away from you, is the middle child between an older brother and younger sister, and has a 3 legged golden retriever named Steve that he adores.

“Why the name Steve? You laugh as he shows you a picture of them both smiling at the beach. Steve is adorable, but Bob’s defined arms in the cutoff definitely got your attention.

He laughs too. “Not my choice, his previous owners named him that. They left him at the vet when he got hit by a car and his leg had to be amputated. I adopted him shortly after and didn’t want to stress him out more by changing it”.

Your heart melts. “That’s so sweet, who has him when you’re deployed?”

“My sister and her family live in Redlands and thankfully are happy to take him. I texted her that I was back in town and would come get him, but I got a picture back that the kids were planning on camping in the living room with him tonight—even had a sleeping bag set up in the middle for him, so I said I’d just pick him up tomorrow.” He smiled. You might as well be a puddle. How is he single?

“I wanted a dog since I moved out here, but my ex was allergic. I was thinking about looking into adopting once I finish my flight nursing courses, but we’ll see.”

“You should meet Steve. He’d love you.” Bob says quietly. It’s getting busier, you can hardly hear him.

“I’d like that” you lean to whisper in his ear, “Do you wanna walk the beach? It’s getting loud in here.”

He gulps but nods.

You grab his hand and lead him through the crowd, jutting your chin to the door, mouthing “Heading outside, it’s too loud” to Bradley.

“Sure” he mouths back, winking. You roll your eyes and continue towards the exit.

________________________________________

You keep your hand in his as you wander down the beach, eventually sitting once the noise of the bar isn’t so oppressive.

Bob breaks the comfortable silence a few minutes later. “I…I’m not good at this. Talking to women, dating, all that. If I don’t talk, I’m awkward. When I do talk, I’m awkward. I like you, Sunny. You’re sweet, smart and funny. You listen when I talk, and you’re so damn pretty, I couldn’t—can’t keep my eyes off you, I don’t want to mess this up—“ You stop his rambling by pressing your lips to his.

He freezes, but you murmur against his lips. “I like you too.” Suddenly he’s kissing you back with vigor. You lick the seam of his lips and he groans. Fuck, that sound. You want to hear it again and again.

You pull away, trying to slow down. “Will you take me out?” You ask, a little breathlessly.

“Yeah? Yeah, I’d love to. What are you doing tomorrow?” He asks, straightening his crooked glasses. God, he’s cute.

“Not a thing. I finally have a weekend off.” You reply.

“I’m gonna pick up Steve around 11. Can I take out you out after?”

“Perfect. I’ll give you my number. Will you walk me to my car?”

He nods and pushes to his feet before pulling you up next.

________________________________________

“I’ll pick you up from Penny’s around noon then? Bob asks, opening your door for you.

“Can’t wait.” You give him a quick peck, pulling back before you go carried away again.

“You know your cunt of a girlfriend stole $20 from me?” You startle as the jerk from earlier walked out from behind your car.

You could feel Bob’s entire demeanor change. “What did you just call her?”

The asshole shrinks as Bob stands to his full height.

“Nothing, I—“ he tries to backtrack, realizing he fucked up.

“Apologize and leave. And if I ever see you here again, you’ll regret it.” Bob interrupts.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, I’ll uh… I’ll leave you to it,” he says as he scurries away. Again. Pussy.

“I’m sorry about that. I’m gonna follow you home, alright? You oka…?” He trails off as you move around the car door, bumping it closed with your hip.

“That…was so fucking hot,” you whisper as you fist his shirt and pull him to you. Pressing your front against his, you kiss a line from his jaw to his ear. “Too bad this we just met tonight. Because I want nothing more than to get on my knees and show you my gratitude.” His cock twitches against your stomach.

“Oh, ha, uhhh…you don’t, I mean you wouldn’t have to do that“ Bob stutters.

You push him against your car and kiss him again. His hands go to your hips, while yours slide down his chest, over his nipples (to which he inhales sharply), and across his stomach. You grip his hip with your left as you lower your hand to rub the length of him with the heel of his palm. Fuck he’s big.

He lurches with a startled groan. And so receptive.

You are burning up. He’s such a good kisser. His big hands are gripping your hips so tightly. The way he went from shy and reserved to defending your honor with a quiet, cool confidence. You palm him a little faster.

Bob breaks your kiss with a pant, “Sunny, I…”

“You…?” You continue for him, kissing and nipping at his neck, you can feel the precum leaking through his pants.

“I, uhh…I’m—“ he tries to continue, but you suck his pulse point. He releases your hip to grab your hand, but it’s too late. “Fuckkkkk, Sunny. I’m cumming”.

You feel him pulse against your hand. He’s breathing heavily and you can tell he’s mortified, but you are soaked. “I’m sorry, I’ve—“

You pull back from his neck to look him in the eye., bringing your damp fingers to your lips.

"No need to be sorry, Bob. That was so..." you lick up one finger, “fucking..." lick down the next, "sexy" and suck them in into your mouth, like you wish you could to his cock.

Bob’s eyes widen and he shudders. You step back and get in the car.

He takes a deep breath and turns to you, trying (but failing) to hide the wet spot. Oh, you were going to wreck him.

“I’ll follow you to Penny’s to make sure you get in okay, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You nod. “Thank you again. Goodnight Bob.”

“Night, Sun”.

________________________________________

[gtwscratch]

GTWScartober Day 3: AU (Alternate Universe)

For the past week, I have been nonstop reading @uhohbestie’s fic “There Are Monsters Nearby,” and I am PROUD to say that, after only six days, I’ve finished 20 chapters as of posting this. I know what happens in chapter 21 bc I’ve seen some spoilers, and I am both unprepared and SO ready for what’s about to go down.

Key, Lock, you two are very talented writers, and the suspense has been so good that I wasn’t able to calmly read the chapters until they ran into Karlnapity (zombies and the zombie apocalypse are among my top worst fears haha). I look forward to binge reading the rest of what’s out so far :) And I have a very fun comic concept in mind for when a certain someone let another certain someone fall off a shelf >:3

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 20

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader 

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. This chapter is a little heavier (as is the story going forward, but I'll include potential triggers for each chapter as relevant), so please read the TW below and only read on if you feel comfortable doing so.

Potential Trigger Warnings: no warnings

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

As the reality of making it on Broadway sets in I dedicate myself to self-improvement. I go for lengthy walks or jogs daily either before or after work depending on my shift. I call or text Jensen whenever we can, and decide to give a relationship with him a real shot. 

But, as the week goes on and he prepares to go back to Vancouver to start filming and I busy myself with night rehearsals, work at the cafe, and prep work for my classes, all while attempting to maintain a healthy sleep schedule. My contact with Jensen eventually drops back to sporadic text messages and a range of missed calls on either side. The one thing keeping me from a major meltdown is knowing my best friend will be back Sunday and I’ve already got a coffee date planned for Monday morning.

When I finally lay in bed on Saturday night, getting some much needed relaxation I scroll through my social media feed. Thanks to Jensen’s surprise stunt at the wedding and then his run-in at the barbecue joint, his face is all over my feed. I scroll through the lists of speculations about a secret girlfriend or project in New York. The adrenaline and secrecy makes me smile, but at the same time I’m terrified of the truth coming out before I’m ready. I send a few of the articles to Jensen. Minutes later he’s calling. As I answer I can hear music and other voices in the background and I instantly feel guilty for disrupting his night. 

“Hey Darlin’. Relax. I know about the posts. That’s one of the things my agent called about the other day. I’m handling it.”

“I’m sorry, did I disturb your night? You sound like you’re out. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

“I just haven’t had a chance to bring it up, but I’m here now. It doesn’t matter where else I am. You need me, so I’m here. Take a deep breath for me.”

I throw my head back on my pillow and take a deep breath, “There’s no way you’re real…”

“It makes me disappointed in my gender that you think that. It means your standards are low.”

“You don’t exactly get high standards when you’ve dated the people I have…But I really don’t want to talk or think about them. What’s your plan?”

“To treat you like my queen. Prove to you that you deserve the world and that you’re my number one.”

“I uh…I meant about the rumours…But that sounds amazing. It’s not gonna be easy, but I’m rooting for you.”

I hear another voice call out on the other end of the line, “Hey Jensen, go easy on my top shelf whiskey! And get back in here!” I figure it’s just someone else at the party or bar or wherever he is.

“I’m comin’!” He calls out before lowing his voice again, “I promise I’m gonna handle it all, so you can just focus on becoming the star I know you are.”

“Thanks. Sounds like your friends are missing you. You should get back.”

“Only if you’re sure you’re okay? No brisket?”

“No brisket, I’m okay now. I should get some sleep anyway.”

“Alright, Darlin’. Sweet dreams.”

I hang up and snuggle into my bed. 

After a long few hours in the cafe, I sit back at the counter in my apartment infront of my laptop. I fill out the digital forms to drop back to part-time study. I figure with getting fit, rehearsals, work and my new, budding relationship I just don’t have the time or mental capacity for the extra unnecessary stress and workload. And last night just confirmed in my mind that I need to focus on my mental health and wellbeing. Feeling a little disappointed but also relieved, I submit the forms and then focus on the required reading for the acting classes. 

After an hour and a half my eyes are straining and my stomach is growling, I shut my laptop and walk around the island bench to find something to eat. As I make a sandwich I keep glancing over at my face-down phone As I sit down to eat I quickly flip it over and slide up for notifications. I notice a missed call from Stella. I quickly call her back, excited to hear from her after what feels like the longest week ever. 

“Hey, Bestie! How’s married life?”

“Amazing! I’ve had the best week ever! I can’t wait to tell you everything tomorrow!”

“Abridged, please. I need a PG version, M at your worst. You can leave out the X-rated stuff, which I know there would have been plenty of.”

“That takes out 90 per cent of my week! Nah, you know what Nick’s like, we did plenty of PG-rated activities.”

“Speaking of Nick, shouldn’t you guys be enjoying your last afternoon and night before the official end of your honeymoon?”

“You would think…But Mr. Reality-check got back to reality the second we touched down. He’s busy checking mail and paying bills and then onto meal prep. I guess it’s good one of us wants to do that…”

“I’m sorry…”

“I know who I married. It’s sweet really, cause I know he’s only doing it to make the transition easier for both of us, and he knows I’ve been dying to hear your goss!”

“We agreed to talk about everything tomorrow…” I say trying to deflect as I start to pace.

“Yeah, but I’m only gonna get an hour for lunch and that includes travel time to and from the cafe. And I need more than the 45-ish minutes that we’re gonna have left. So, tell me about you and Mr Tall and Sexy.”

“There’s honestly not much to tell…We are a maybe something…a far-fetched possibility…”

“There’s a story there…You need me to come over?”

“No! No…You need to be at home with your husband. In other news! Grease? The audition YOU signed me up for…”

“No way! You got it? Who? Sandy? Frenchy?”

“Understudy…and…Female Student number three.”

“Well, you’re gonna be the best damn Female Student number three to ever bless that stage!”

“That’s the plan, but also, chances are over the six week run I’ll get at least one matinee show as the lead.”

“When that happens, I’ll be in the front row.”

“I know you will. Thanks.”

“I’m glad you got a part. I was worried I was gonna have to get you the junior HR position…”

“Broadway is where I want to be. I’m willing to work for it. It’s my first role and it’s a great position. No one lands the lead as their first role…except for probably Jensen Ackles,” I add under my breath.

“What’d he do? You always wear the blame but it’s always the guys in your life taking advantage, so what did HE do?”

“Nothing…I’ve got so much work to do before classes start this week, and I’ve got rehearsals most nights.”

“Hey, I’m your best friend. You can talk to me.”

“I’ve just got a lot to do. I’m thrilled that you had an amazing honeymoon and I can’t wait to see you tomorrow. But go enjoy your night with your husband…”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“I know. Enjoy your night.”

“I plan to. Don’t get too in your head about whatever’s going on.”

I sigh and hang up. As I try my best to refocus on the text about tone and enunciation, my mind keeps wandering back to the night before and the endless rumors that I’m caught in the middle of.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27, @n-o-p-e-never, @deansimpalababy,

@winchesterwild78, @kr804573, @chriszgirl92, @smoothdogsgirl

@speakinvain, @deans-baby-momma, @1967winchesterimpala

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the library

plum, chapter six

a/n: i don’t think i’ve ever written about anything as close to my heart as this… like sure, other fandoms have been something that i’ve truly and deeply loved and known way way too much about, but this one is just at a different level. like it’s one of those that for so long seemed way too personal to ever write about. 10 years. 10 fucking years of loving a story in a life-altering way, being autistic so diving into it in a way that makes you more than qualified to then write fanfic about it lol (i know too much, it’s borderline painful lol). idk i’m just having a moment tonight where i’m just like wow…

warnings: Joel Miller x reader, MILD SPOILERS for the last of us (both games and the hbo series), slow burn, age gap (20 years), timeline wise this is set in between the first and second game (so when they live in Jackson), ptsd, violence, angst, weapons, zombies

word count: 886

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

previous chapter | series masterlist | next chapter

masterlist | join my taglist 

“Oh, man…” you breathed out as your fingertips ghosted over the dusty spines of the many novels lined up in front of you. 

You’d snuck out. Like a teenager in the night, you’d snuck out of Jackson. You weren’t particularly proud of it, being way too seasoned not to know the stupidity of not even leaving a note. 

But it was just a small trip, a few hours tops. You’d be back before anyone would realise you were gone. You just knew that they wouldn’t have let you go if you’d spoken up, at least not alone. 

With a few books already reserved, the hardcovers pressed tightly against your chest, locked in place by your forearm, you glanced up and spotted a particularly intriguing title, one that tickled a memory long forgotten. Lifting yourself onto your tiptoes and reaching your free hand up as far as it would go, your fingertips only managed to kiss the binding, not gaining nearly enough of a hold to simply get it down.

Giving it a few forceful pokes, hoping that it would just push the book enough for you to be able to grasp it fully and therefore quietly get it down, it instead came crashing down, causing not only a cloud of dust to puff up in the abandoned library but also sent a deafening thump echoing down deep within the vast building. 

Freezing up, barely even breathing at all, you glanced down at the dropped book and a cluster of bloodcurdling guttural screeches found your ears. As silently as you could manage, you reached for your knife, having not been able to grab a firearm back at Jackson since they were under much more significant security. 

The library evidently wasn’t as vacant as you thought. There were two, maybe three clickers scattered somewhere in the many rows of bookcases surrounding you. 

Needing both hands to defend yourself, you slowly shifted the books in your arm and slid the pile onto an open spot on the dusty shelf in front of you. Holding your breath, you hoped the action hadn’t created too much noise. 

Standing still, standing ever so still, you heard one of the creatures creep closer. Tightening your grip around the handle of your blade, you watched as the blooming fungi appeared around the corner. 

Debating for a moment if you should strike out or just keep standing there, hoping you could somehow hide amongst the stories long enough for you to eventually somehow slip out, the sudden shriek it produced as it whipped towards you made that decision for you. 

Having luck on your side, your knife found purchases in the monster’s neck and as you sliced it open, exposing its mutated vocal cords, the clicker dropped to the floor, the ruckus alarming the rest of your exact location. 

The second one being closer than you’d imagined, the fight was a struggle, ultimately forcing you to the ground as the infected gnawed atop of you, biting the air in hope that your tender flesh would accompany some of it. 

And just as you thought this was it, that you had lost all hope of triumph, a gunshot rang out amidst the books, blowing a lethal hole into the creature’s skull.

Sucking in a startled breath, you shoved the corpse off of you and before you could manage to get back up on your feet, an outstretched hand appeared in front of your face. 

Blinking up at Joel in alarm, the loud cry of the last remaining creature had you holding your sharp tongue. Accepting his aid, you got back up and quickly took a look around, prepared for the noisy gunshot to have sent the final one sprinting in your direction. 

Your sudden wide eyes being enough of a clue for Joel to catch, he whirled around, covering your body with his broad form and lifted up his pistol, ready to unload into the clicker scampering towards you. 

It was only when it laid unmoving on the ground that you noticed how his hand was holding onto your midsection and shielding you protectively. Ripping it away at once, you then gave his sturdy form a big shove, “what the fuck are you doing here?”

“What am I doing-, what are you doing here?” Joel bellowed, “the hell were you thinking running off like that? Do you know how reckless, how goddamn stupid that was?”

Fighting the urge to slap him across that salt-and-pepper cheek of his, you scowled, “did you follow me?”

Either he purposefully ignored your question or else he was just way too wrapped up in his own fury not to continue, “do you have any idea what could have happened to you?”

“I can take care of a few infected myself,” you wiped your blade clean against your jeans, then folded it back up and tucked it away in your pocket. 

“I know that.”

“Then why-”

“Because the infected aren’t the only threat out here and you know it,” he dared to say. His twitching face softened ever so slightly at the grave look that flooded your features. “They are still out there, Y/n.”

Blood boiling, you turned around on your heel, picked up the abandoned books and determinedly walked towards the exit, bumping your shoulder heatedly into him as you passed.

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[apollafire]

(sorry that it's so short; not every chapter will be like that. I had finally thought of a good jumping off point and sort of ran with it- either way, enjoy!)

Dearly Departed

Next Chapter

Summerville, Oklahoma 2021

The place was a dump. Maybe not a complete lost cause, but then again it probably was. Callie knew that for sure, standing in the foyer of the what should have been abandoned old farmhouse her father had residing in until his death. It was a miracle that the "fracking", as Phoebe had called it, didn't bring the place down on top of them.

"Can I help you?" The woman's voice made Callie turn to face her and a feeling of familiarity washed over Janine Melnitz as she looked at the blonde woman, looking towards the living room at her children only strengthened the feeling.

"We're the uh-" The word family was refusing to leave Callie's mouth, "This was my father's place."

"Right, hello. Hi." After a moment, Janine regained herself, "I'm Janine Melnitz, we spoke on the phone. I was old friends with your father, I'm very sorry for your loss." The women continued to speak as Trevor turned to poke around the living room some more, just looking for weird stuff when he pulled an old photo from between two books on a shelf.

A young woman, maybe mid to late twenties, stood against a pillar of some grand building. Laboratory goggles adorned the top of her head, pushing back a mass of wavy blonde hair. Her smile was bright and proud. She wore Converse sneakers of a dark color, maybe black, cuffed blue jeans, plain purple t-shirt and had a white lab coat draped over her crossed arms.

"Woah, who's this babe?" Trevor chuckled out, catching the attention of the two women and his sister Phoebe as he turned and held the photo up in their direction. Columbia University - 1981 was scribbled on the back in blue pen ink.

"That's your grandmother, Trev." Callie said with a sigh, arms crossed over her chest.

"Grandmother, as in grandma Kate? Your mother, grandma Kate?" Trevor questioned before shuddering in disgust at the fact he just called his own grandmother a babe, dropping the photo on the already paper strewn table and leaving the room. Phoebe grabbed the photo to look at it as she brought it over to her mom.

"I'm surprised she didn't come with you. We lost touch when she moved to Chicago." Janine spoke softly.

"She died." Callie spoke softly as well, staring down at the photo.

"I'm so sorry, I had no idea that both-" The older woman brought a hand up to her mouth, "When did she-?"

"It'll be 20 years next February."

[aemonds-wifey]

The Navy Blue Barmaid

Chapter 4

Summary: You confront Tom on the kiss

Authors Note: Age Gap-Reader is in early 20’s- Tom is in early 30’s.

Warnings: SMUT/18+

Two days had passed since you had kissed Tom. He had not come to the bar either, you began to worry about him. As today was your day off you found yourself wondering into the park by yourself, replaying the thoughts and the feelings you had during that passionate kiss with Tom. You felt at ease with him, yet he was a mystery that you in truth knew very little about, yet like a moth to a flame you were drawn to him and nothing could keep him out of your thoughts.

*

“I’m just going out for a cigarette Y/N can you watch the bar whilst I’m out?” Otto asked fiddling with his lighter

“Sure no problem.” You answered as you handed over a pint to a middle aged man.

“Brilliant thanks.” He said as he left the bar and went through the back door. You dropped down and picked up some more glasses from the bottom shelf and placed them on the other shelf by the till, the bell ringed as the front doors open and you glanced up and you froze. His eyes were fixated on yours as he stood-he gazed at you as if he had not seen you in a decade, you hesitated to move as the glance you exchanged seemed to have your feet locked-your whole body couldn’t move-he broke the look as he strode to his regular table and sat down. You turned your back and took a deep breath before finding the courage to go over-suddenly you were extremely nervous.

He sat arched over the table, his fingers nervously dancing on the surface of the small circular table, he watched his fingers tapping as you approached him, clearing your throat lightly “Hi…” you said.

He kept tapping his fingers, he only glanced up at you extremely quickly “Mm…hi…”

“Can I get you anything to dri-” you said trembling slightly

“No..I erm…Listen Y/N…about the other night….” He started

You sank into the chair opposite him, his fingers began to tap more quickly -he was nervous

“Tom are you okay?” you asked

He pouted his lips slightly “Look…your lovely and really sweet…but you don’t want to stick around an old geezer like me….” He said looking down at his knees.

Your heart sank for a moment “Can…Can I not be the judge of that?” the hope in your tone was evident and Tom noticed as he lifted his head

“Your anything but old Tom…I was worried when you did not come into the bar…you sure your okay?” you asked with concern on your lips

He darted a look at your lips then met your eyes again “I’m fine…really I just…the sudden noises they…”

You slowly reached over, noticing his fingers tapping aggressively on the table, your own fingers clasped over them gently. With ease the fingers began to slow with their rhythm, Tom’s gasped as a sudden clash of thunder banged outside – he looked around , you gently held onto his hand tighter, with your thumb stroking over the top of his knuckles-he exhaled slowly.

“Its okay…I’m here Tom…” you whispered.

He blinked as his breathing calmed down, in one moment as you looked at him you saw the fear in his eyes slowly fade-your presence was calming in a way he never knew was possible.

He looked at you , his voice went quiet “Are you even real?” he asked breathlessly

You nodded “Very real…”

Your heart leaped as he smiled looking down for a moment, in turn you returned the smile. When he looked up and saw her youthful gaze beam at him-he panicked and retracted his hand “I better go…”

“Please…stay.” You gasped without thinking.

He gently rose from his seat “I..Y/N I like you…but I’m…genuinely not worthy…” he said sadly.

Your hand stretched across the table, desperate for his hand to close around yours again “Tom you are the most-”

He shook his head before you could finish “I’m sorry I just…” he hurriedly left shuffling past you as you got to your feet and watched him go , you couldn’t find the words to keep him from leaving. As he opened the door he looked at you, conflict written all over his face he quickly left -you were frozen, you wanted to run after him and hold him.

“Excuse me love can I get a drink?” A voice from the bar broke you from your thoughts.

You spun around, an older gentlemen looked at you “You alight love?”

“Yeah…sorry I’ll be right there.” You said, you brushed your apron, before you returned to the bar your eyes caught sight of a small leather wallet where Tom was sitting-you quickly picked it up and popped it in your pocket. You could return this later-after you finished your shift.

*

You sat on the edge of your couch, rocking back and forth gently-the rain was pouring down heavily and hitting against your window. Being alone helped so much but you felt utterly idiotic for pushing Y/N away. You were afraid of opening up to her, she was so young but she was not naïve and there was a feeling of ease around her, You wanted to tell her everything, but what if she rejects you? No she is kinder than that, she listens and doesn't pity you like the other ones have done....maybe you were hasty in pushing her away from you?

As you stood up to walk to the kitchen you tapped your back trouser pocket to find your cigarette pack, except they were in your jacket pocket-its at this point you realised  your wallet wasn’t there, a moment of panic struck through you-you felt slightly embarrassed at the idea of going back to the bar and seeing Y/N-the way she looked at you before you left, it killed you-you wanted to hold her…you swallowed your pride for a moment and made your way to the door, as you were a few feet away you heard a solid knocking on the door.

Your hand wondered to the door handle and opened it. Y/N stood there, soaked with her hood barely covering her head. She was beautiful, even drenched in the rain.

*

Tom leaned over and held your elbow “Christ Y/N you’ll catch your death” he said as he pulled you into his home.

“Thank you…”you said as he closed the door behind you. You stood in the middle of the living room.

“How did you know where I lived?” he asked

You reached in your pocket and produced his wallet “You left this…your address was in the pocket.” You handed it to him and he placed it on the table beside the couch.

“Thanks….I’ll grab a towel..” he said rushing upstairs. You looked around-his home was modest, small and lacking of sentimental objects. You shivered as you felt your coat begin to stick to your skin, Tom came tumbling down the stairs with a large dark blue towel “Love you’ll freeze if you don’t take off that coat…” he said.

You carefully peeled it off , your hair fell around your shoulders-he took your coat and threw it on the back of his couch-he then stood in front of you and wrapped the large towel around your shoulders, covering your arms and bringing you closer to his chest. You dared to look up as he rubbed your arms tenderly, he looked at you briefly. Silently you stood there letting him take care of you “Better?” he asked quietly

You nodded, your chest heaving slightly as he looked at you. His hands resting on your shoulders, his fingers lightly rubbing your skin.  As your eyes locked again he was lost in your gaze, you leaned up slightly and caught his lips with yours. He wrapped his arms around you as he kissed you back with tender feeling you had never experienced, the moment shattered when Tom broke away and turned his back to you, his index finger and thumb holding the bridge of his nose.

You held the tower around you as you watched him quietly “Tom…I’m sorry I…” you said.

“No…it’s…I…” he began.

You didn’t say anything, you just watched and waited

“I’m…a mess you don’t want to be involved…your young I’m …” he didn’t turn around, you noticed his fingers tapping against his thigh nervously.  You took a step forward, each step was delicate as you got closer to him. Your hand carefully went against his back, your other hand laced with his tapping fingers-they ceased to tap.

“Tom please…don’t shut me out…” you said quietly.

“I’m not…I’m a damaged man…” he said helplessly. “Your too good…to pure and innocent…”

Your hand on his back graced up to his shoulder blade, you leaned forward and kissed the back of his neck-his hand broke away from the bridge of his nose and you felt the tension in him ease greatly. He turned around slowly to look at you , his fingers found their way to your chin, then the back of his fingers smoothly rubbed the soft skin on your cheek.

“What are you doing to me?!” He asked

You smiled lightly “What do you mean?”

“I can’t figure you out…your so young but you…you get me…I feel like I can be myself with you…I can tell you anything…and it terrifies me…” he spoke with such vulnerability you thought he may cry.

“Hey…hey Tom…shh” you said, your foreheads lightly rested against each other as you found your other arm holding on his elbow.

The way he exhaled against you gave your nerves a lightning strike along your body,  you both stood in silence and you were sure the only sounds you could hear were the hard rain crashing against the window and both your hear beats skipping violently as you stayed in such close proximity to each other. Tom closed his hands for a moment before moving his head and finding your lips with his, the sweetest and softest moan escaped from your lips as your arms looped around his neck.

His arms fell to your waist and he pulled you against him, Tom squeezed on your hipbone as he deepened the kiss, exploring the corner of you mouth you couldn’t help but smile and moan lightly as you felt something hard pressing against your waist. Your hands returned to his chest as your fingers tugged on his shirt, pulling him even more tightly against your own chest to close any gap that might bridge between you.

You both broke apart slowly as he ran his fingers through your slightly damp hair, his head tilted to look at your tender face as he leaned down and closely kissed the tip of your nose. “You still cold…?” he asked with a playful smile

You smirked lightly “A little….”

His hand found his way to yours “Come with me…If you want t-”

You answered his doubt with another quick kiss, he lead you up the stairs and into the bathroom-a small bath tub lay beneath the window, and a shower was seated in the corner. He still held onto your hand and swirled around to face you. You let the towel on your shoulders fall to the floor, you stepped closer to him and grabbed the bottom of his shirt, he placed his hands on yours to stop you briefly-you frowned “What is it…?”

His breathing became stagnated “It’s…there are some scars I just…”

You lightly pulled on his shirt and lifted it over his head and tossed it to the side of the room, a scar that looked a large bullet wound lay on the left side of his chest, it  did not look so scary to you-time had allowed it to heal, Tom still had a beautiful upper body-you leaned forward and kissed the scar so tenderly Tom’s fingers crawled to the back of your head and held your hair so gently he was lost in your affection. You lips kisses their way to his collarbone, you were so gentle with him his head tilted back, in mere moments you found your selves kissing towards standing under the shower head as your lips moved against each others Tom’s hand fumbled to find the lever to turn on the water-instantly you both held onto each other tighter as the cold water hit you quickly, in seconds it then heated up-you both were laughing against each other’s face and neck as he helped you out of your top.

He pulled it over your head, your plain black bra now at the mercy of the hot water going against your body, Tom watched you in awe as you removed the bra-your bare chest now exposed in front of him. He pulled down his trousers and threw them against the door, grinning as he did, making you blush slightly as his boyish charm. He smiled, keeping eyes with yours as he dropped  to his knees and pulled your drenched skirt down to your ankles, you stepped out of it and let him throw it away, you were both now only in a pair of underwear, he hooked a lone finger in the elastic of your panties and looked up at you for reassurance, you gave him a quick nod and without hesitation he yanked the underwear down to your ankles, he fell back leaning on his  knees and gasped at your bare body before him, he   looked up at you again, the running water dripping over his beautiful face made you quiver with excitement in your centre.

He rolled his hands carefully up your smooth thighs and planted the slowest yet softest kiss against you sensitive folds “Tom…” you moaned lightly, your head tipping back as your hands found their way through his dirty blonde hair, now soaking wet. He kissed you there again, your fingers clenching bunches of his hair as you struggled to maintain composed. He found himself back on his feet and crashed his lips with yours, your hands now roaming all around his back and quickly found their way to his boxer shorts, you tugged them down and watched his erection spring free, you kept kissing him and palmed your hand around him, as he kissed your neck he groaned as you stroked him-he planted a playful bite in the crook of your neck as you continued to move your hand up and down him.

He in turn let his finger slide down between your breasts and further down your stomach to your sensitive folds and rubbed against them with his thumb in a circular motion that made your legs feel like jelly, you moaned against his ear as he continued to make you feel good-Tom’s breathing was wild as you strokes on his continued “I’m…Y/N……” he exhaled. He removed his hand from your core and turned the shower off, you took a step back and released your hand on him as he looked you up and down, he swooped you up bridal style, you squealed slightly at his gesture and held your hands around his neck for security. He kissed you before carefully carrying you to his bedroom, another modest room with a large bed, he gently set you down on the bed-lying on top of you kissing your lips straight away. The feeling of his naked body felt so naturally good against yours, your smooth skin felt amazing against his-your bodies writhed together perfectly. He broke from your lips briefly before latching his lips onto your breasts, the feel of them licking your nipples and caressing them with his hands was pure heaven, you did not want this moment to stop.

“Tom please…I need you…” you whimpered looking at him kneel in between your legs, he placed one hand on your knee that moved to your thigh, his other hand was on his cock, he looked at your body adoringly before moving another inch he looked at your angelic face, you knew what he was asking for and you nodded.

He lined his cock up with your entrance, teasing you slightly before he slowly pushed himself inside you-in unison you both moaned in pleasure, he fell down to kiss you as he began to thrust himself in and out of you-setting a pace that was incredibly bewitching. Your hands moved up his arms and held onto his shoulders, he kissed your neck and you heard him moan and say “You feel so good…Y/N…Christ…”

Your back arched to maintain the pure ecstasy you felt with him inside you, your legs wrapping themselves around his waist and with each thrust you felt that you were experiencing something more deeper, Tom brought his head up to face you, his hand placing against your forehead and showered you with the most tender of kisses. You began to feel the control in you was dwindling, Tom too felt his end approaching, he looked at you as you moaned his name once more “Tom I’m….I’m …” your voice broke and as you felt an intense wave of eutopia wash over your body you felt Tom too collapse with your walls clenching around him.

You screamed his name as he slumped on top of you. Both of you utterly spent you blinked repeatedly as the stars from your eyes began to disappear, you both allowed a moment for you to catch up with your breathing-the warmness of Tom still being inside you was a feeling of comfort and in some way it did not feel alien. Tom lifted his head, looking at you and smiling with a genuine look of happiness that made your stomach flutter. He slowly eased himself out of you and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you against his chest , he planted gentle kisses on the top of your head. Both of you now relaxed and exhausted from what you just experienced you kissed the collarbone you were leaning again, Tom held you close against him, his fingers tracing the soft curve of your body which made you feel even more relaxed and you began to feel yourself drift away into a blissful sleep, not before feeling Tom’s head lean against yours and following you into slumber.

TAGS

@chainsawsangel @schniiipsel @moonchildrenandflowercrowns @happilyhertale @mischiefmanaged71

@namoreno @nolongereviliwantlove @talesofoldandnew @yentroucnagol @arcielee @babyblue711 @bbyaemond @bcon24 @lauraneedstochill @polkadotsocks1993 @motley-baby @sscreamingbanshee @tssf-imagines @actualhawkesworld @jessssica1234 @bellaisasleep @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @greenowlfactif @vhagars-dementia

[room-on-broom]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tug by @marvellouslymadmim thank you so much me luv

Tagging @heathtrash @teapotteringabout @holdmecloser-gandydancer @womble1 @janetm74 @kiwi-cackles and YOU! and who else wants to do it! more questions under the read more

1. How many works do you have on A03?

48 (60 on fanfic)

2. What's your total A03 word count?

I've no idea, i messed up on my calculator and dont have the pactience to go back over it

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently Stingray and Thunderbirds. and worst witch. its always worst witch

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Jabberjay-ded (128 vs 4 comments lol) Little Wizard, The Broken Hand mirror, Mildred's Monstrous Misadventures, (ah yeah witching kind!) and I saw Seven Idiots.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Fanfic.net dosnt let me reply any more??? but I do try to. even if its just a key smash and a thankyou. or if its an emoji spam i emoji spam back. I love those.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hm. The closest ones I could think of are Death's acquaintance and In grief we bake. I don't tend to do agnsty endings. even the sad ish ones are kind hopeful.

EDIT: JABBERYJAYED! I forgot!? litreally a hunger games fic ends up in devistation?? fool.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I couldnt narrow it down so top 2: I saw 7 Dogs and Christmas Cards

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Onlya few times in the past. two of those times were Worst witch ship trolls and just deleted them. one was my fault, i got uppity with an 'UPDATE NOW' comment and user just went a few my other fics being rude. againn deleted.

9. Do you write smut?

write yes. post no. (not yet-!) :o

10. Do you write crossovers?

yes. Ive have a good half a dozen under my belt and a couple in the works.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

angain no not that i know of.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No but I would count @teapotteringabout @kiwi-collideoscope and Princess Sammi as , the amount i've bouced ideas about with them.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Mary Poppins and Bert. the OTP before i knew what the internet was.

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Froot, SEASICK and Cherrytree Carol. plus a bunch of WW ones. I keep picking them up but i feel like they might be left on the shelf a little longer.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue and character voices. I also love mixing humour in too, even just a little sprinkle into sad bits and I think i do that quite well.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Plot bunnies. and not finishing current WIPS. Ive made a mountain of improvement on that frount but yeah posting chapters before before the fics even 50% done. To the point ive sequeals to fics that are only two lines of an epic.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Massivise kudos who can do that. not my forte. The closest I've come is writing the odd burst of ASL and BSL for Unshackled and Chest Compressions, and a pinch of welsh for Lucretia’s Baller but as yet Hypothetical Birthday Cake.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Corpse Bride (2005). a sad little fic for a le sad victor van dort.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

Ever? Probably have to Mildred's Montorus adventures. but Your mother and Mine's got a special place in my heartjust cos family and the catharisis .

Thank you!!

[pisupsala]

One for The History Books [Chapter 20] [Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw]

[Summary] You are an archivist at the Pentagon, sent on assignment to TOPGUN to catalog and report on a top-secret mission. In the days under the Californian sun, a certain naval aviator puts your once orderly life in a tailspin that you might never recover from.

[Pairing] Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!reader / Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!oc

[Warnings] Mature content: swearing, (explicit) smut. 18+ only.

[Words] 4.3k

[Index] All Chapters | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | | Epilogue

[Library]

Chapter 20 - Reaching the shallows

It’s getting dark, and you haven’t moved from the spot in your living room yet. After you said goodbye to your sister, you just sat there, tears streaming down your face until you are pretty sure you have run out of tears for a lifetime.

Exhausted, you lay down, resting your heated skin on the cool floor, watching the light from coming from the window slowly die. 

Maybe you’ll just stay here. It’s as a good place as any you surmise. 

You don’t know what to do.

So you just wait.

It’s pitch dark in your apartment by the time you need to get up. Your hip and shoulder hurt, your mouth feels like it’s filled with cotton, and your stomach feels acrid. Getting up is like moving through molasses, every nerve and tendon aching.

The corners of your mind are getting snowed in again, making it hard to think. Not that you particularly want to think. You just want this not to be.

You drag yourself to bed, not even bothering to get changed. The moment your head hits your pillow, you can’t help but notice how your sheets smell of him. With the last semblance of your energy, you fling his shirt against the opposite wall. It flops down on the floor pathetically.

God-fucking-damnit, you can’t catch a break. Should you just sleep on the couch? That spot on the floor was pretty sweet too, actually. 

You groan. Jesus, you are not seriously getting chased out of your own bed by someone who isn’t even here. You blindly push Bradley’s pillow down the bed. There’s really no need for this now.

When your alarm wakes you on Monday morning, you don’t know what to make of having Bradley’s pillow wrapped in your arms, face pressed into the fabric.

Well, you are a sucker. But what else is new.

You try not to notice there’s no message from Bradley on your phone.

In the shower, you pettily push his body wash from the shelf. You watch it clatter on to the tiles at your feet, the water raining down onto the plastic loudly. Halfheartedly, you nudge the bottle away from the stream of water with your foot.

That did nothing for your mood.

You’re not even mad. Or maybe you are. You are definitely sad, right? You mostly feel kind of sick to your stomach.

Wrapping yourself up in a large towel, you wipe the condensation from the bathroom mirror. You haven’t really gotten a good look at yourself since yesterday. The bruise under your eye is undoubtedly darker than it was—a splotchy purple smear over the bottom part of your eye socket. 

Tears suddenly prickle in your eyes again. Bradley looked so scared. You’ve never felt so deeply attached to someone, while simultaneously having such a painful distance between each other.

“You don’t have time for this.” You tell your reflection sternly. Setting your mouth in a hard line, you start rummaging through your criminally underused make up bag. There is going to be some sort of concealer in there for sure.

It doesn’t look great. The darkest parts of the bruise still come through the makeup, looking vaguely like a smooshed blueberry. You shrug at yourself. It’ll have to do.

You have work to do. Last time - fucking last time, like Bradley just fucking off on a whim is a regular occurrence in your life now—your broken heart actually landed you in plenty hot water at work. None of that anymore. You’ll fuck up on your own time, thank you very much. Right now, you have a PhD to complete.

At work, you are pretty sure people have noticed the bruise, but mercifully no one comments on it. However, at lunch—the one you don’t eat because you feel like your stomach is getting strangled—your resolve breaks. Bradley has still not written you. Not a sign of life, let alone an apology.

You text Beth.

“Still nothing. Should I at least text hi?” 

The answer is immediate. 

“NO!!!!”

Sighing, you put your phone away. That many exclamation marks is pretty uncalled for. Yet, it doesn’t sit well with you—you want to talk to Bradley so badly. You want to fix this. Tell him you’re sorry. 

Maybe you’re just not cut out for power games like this.

Every time you check your phone during the day and there’s no message, a little part of you dies. Each time you feel like you’re taking a step closer to the edge of “this is really it, huh?”

You are not angry. 

You just feel like you have no more fight left in you. 

Last time, you at least tried to look for a way out of the raging snowstorm threatening to consume you. This time you elect to just sit it out. Plopped down in the middle of a snow bank, as the snow mounts higher and higher around you.

It’s as a good place as any.

On Tuesday night, you are in bed early. You are cuddled up to Bradley’s pillow, watching an endless stream of YouTube videos on your laptop to keep your mind from wandering any further towards the edge. You want to hold out hope.

Your phone buzzes.

You don’t need to look to see who it is. Your stomach twists painfully while your heart jumps. It can always only be him. Eyes closed, you sigh.

Almost, almost you don’t want to look. What if it’s bad news? What if he can’t forgive you?

Enough. You pull your phone out.

“lets talk” 

You wait. That’s it?

Well. At least he texted? You reply quickly: 

“Ok.”

Yeah. That could have been put a… nicer way. Good going. You watch the speech bubble and disappear. Should you…

You hesitate for a minute.

Your sister would be so disappointed, and maybe you’re just too much of fucking softie, but you cannot handle imagining Bradley struggle like this.

“Do you want to talk now?”

The moment you hit send, his message comes in.

“i miss you”  

Great. Now you feel like a complete asshole. You should have kept your mouth shut as per usual. Heart beating in your throat, truly hoping that this a positive sign, you reply.

“I miss you too.” 

“lets talk in person” The messages come in quick succession. “soon”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The conversation between you and Bradley feels stale, like chewing through days old bread. At least you are talking again? You don’t really get beyond daily how are yous, good mornings and sleep wells, but you surmise it’s better than nothing. So far, he hasn’t clarified when he actually wants to talk. Your fingers are absolutely itching to ask and push him to make a choice. 

But you don’t. 

The message that receive late in the day on Thursday leaves you all the more surprised.

“can i leave some stuff at yours for safekeeping while i’m away?”

You can’t lie—your heart is jumping with joy. It’s not the apology you’re waiting for, it’s not even the start of the conversation you need to have, but damnit, Bradley has a knack for making you feel special.

“Sure. When are you coming by?”

“will tomorrow evening work for you?”

“Yeah, no problem.” 

You wait for Bradley to write you more, but no other messages come in. Your fingers hover over the keyboard, wanting to ask him so many things: will he be staying? Does he want to talk? What does he want you to keep safe for him?

In the end, you gracelessly drop your phone into your bag next to your desk. You’ll find out soon enough what the deal is. And it’s not like you had plans for Friday. Moping in private, maybe. Lots of YouTube. Not thinking about the state of your relationship, mostly.

Fuck.

These are going to be a long 24 hours.

When you finally return home from work on Friday, you are suddenly horrified by the absolute state of your apartment. The wineglasses have been on the coffee table a whole week now. Bed unmade, your laundry is piling out of the hamper, his shirt in the corner. Bradley’s body wash is still languishing in the corner of your shower. It’s like your entire apartment is grieving with you.

Ultimately, you don’t tidy up, nor get changed out of your work clothes. Whatever is going on in your apartment is your business and your business alone, you think tersely. Normally you would slip into some yoga pants or shorts to hang out, but somehow that feels too vulnerable. Your slacks and silk button up shirt are like an armor.  

It’s nearly seven when your doorbell rings. You had been pretty calm, you think, but now your blood is audibly rushing through your veins. With shaking hands, you buzz Bradley in. You go to open the door to your apartment, and you catch sight of Bradley walking up the stairs.

He’s looking down, carrying what looks like a cardboard storage box. You fling yourself against the wall of the hallway, feeling like the breath has been knocked out of you. He looks so cool and collected, and so, so good. The dark blue shirt straining over his upper arms, his curls lightly tousled after a long day. It pains you.

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you wait, heart almost beating out of your chest.

“Hi.” Bradley’s voice is careful. He’s standing in the door opening, somewhat awkwardly. You realize you are blocking the entrance.

“Hey.” You reply cautiously. You don’t know what you were expecting, but you can help but feel crestfallen. “Sorry, come in.” 

You move out of the way and walk towards the living room. You quickly look back, taking in Bradley as he walks behind you. He appears tired, his tan skin looking almost dull. He holds himself in that same effortless and confident style you would recognize anywhere, but you can feel the weight that is dragging him down behind the facade.

Not quite knowing what to do, you stand in the middle of the room, facing each other. Bradley gently put the box down. As he straightens back up, he finally gets a good look at you.

Your face is drawn, the bruise under your eye poorly concealed by fading make up. You have your arms crossed over your chest like you are trying to insulate yourself from the situation. It’s been long since he’s seen you in work clothes, so formal, like you’re putting up a wall. 

He wants to grab you, pull you against him in the way that always makes you squeal in delight and apologize a thousand time over until you stop looking at him with such pain in your eyes. But he also knows just an apology won’t cut it anymore. He dragged this out for too long.

As you stand there, you feel like a pot that is about to boil over. You desperately want to break the painful silence and close the cutting distance between you. Beth’s words keep ringing in your ears. If you do that, you’ll never be happy.

“I want to apologize-” Bradley starts.

“I’m sorry.” You blurt out that same moment, not being able to take it anymore. You both abruptly stop talking.

Pain.

“I interrupted you.” You shift awkwardly on your feet. “Please…” 

“Ah yeah…” Bradley replies softly. He takes a deep breath, hand flexing nervously at his side. “I want to apologize for everything I said last week.” He swallows dryly. “For walking out.”

You wait for him to continue, barely able to look at him.

“You deserve more than just an apology. You deserve me doing better…” Bradley trails off, voice vulnerable. “...I just hope you’re still willing me to give that chance.” 

Head down, you nod. Your eyes are trained firmly on the floor—you don’t want him to see the tears that have already started to form.

“I… I said some pretty awful things to you.” You reply, voice thick. “Not matter how angry I was, that was uncalled for. I’m sorry.” 

“I’m pretty sure I needed to hear those things.” 

“You walked out on me for it.” You can’t conceal the pain in your voice. “You disappeared again.” 

“I couldn’t handle it.” Bradley takes a shaky breath. “Because you were right. And I spent so long avoiding my past, the nightmares… that it seemed like the only thing I could do.”

You let out a long breath. 

“And next time?” It feels like you are purposefully driving a dagger into your own heart with those words. You don’t want to say it, but you need to know. “One day you’ll walk out for good. And that… terrifies me.”

“I -” Bradley falters. God, he wants to comfort you, but he can’t find the words and hesitates to cross the few feet, which feel like light years, between you. Your tears are flowing freely now; through your lashes, you see them drip down the front of your blouse. “I’ll stay with you as long as you’ll have me.”

“I want…” His voice breaks for a second. Balling his fist, he steels himself. He needs to spit it out already. “I want to there not to be a next time. But I can't—I need you. I can’t do this by myself.”   

Admitting it out loud to you finally gives Bradley the feeling that just a fraction of the weight on him might be lifting. There is seldom a prefect moment for anything. The only right time is right now.  

“The nightmares —,” Your head shoots up at the mention of it. Bradley’s heart clenches at your bloodshot eyes, but he averts his gaze. It’s now or never before he loses his nerve.

“They started after the mission. I dream I’m flying when all alarms start blaring. There’s a SAM incoming on my six. I’m out of flares- it’s so close, there’s no way to outmaneuver it. The moment I look back, I’m in a two-seater. For a split second, that replays over and over in my head-” He stops for a few seconds to calm his suddenly rapid breathing. 

“First I only ever saw Mav in that seat, yelling commands at me. Then there were more faces and voices, and they started to blur. I saw my father—he was silent…” His voice raspy now. He’s pretty sure he’s not crying, he hasn’t cried in years. “I guess because I can’t really remember his voice. Sometimes I heard my mother’s voice yelling my name, from when she was sickest and most scared.” 

Bradley is so focussed on trying to explain what he sees in his darkest moments, looking everywhere but you, feeling completely exposed, he doesn’t notice you appearing next to him.

Gently, you unfurl his balled fist and thread your fingers through his. He falls quiet for a moment, while you stand next to him silently. You are so shocked that you can’t even cry. So you just stand there together for a moment. Bradley closes his eyes, brows furrowed.

“And then…” He breathes in through his nose, squeezing your hand almost painfully. “Then I started seeing you. In a split second of terror, calling out to me before you get engulfed in the fireball along everyone else… and I put you there. Every single person.” His breathing is rapid.  

“And there’s not a fucking thing I can do to save you. And It’s my fault.” 

It feels like his entire body is covered in abrasions—like he tore off his skin to expose his more vulnerable self. He unclenches his hand, but you squeeze back. Wordlessly, you lean your cheek against Bradley’s shoulder, waiting for his breathing to calm down and fall in sync with yours.

“I’m sorry, Bradley.” You tell him softly. “I hate that you have to suffer like that.” 

“I’ve never told anyone before.” He replies, almost dazed. It feels so strange now it’s not a secret anymore. Strangely, he feels lighter. 

“Thank you for telling me.” You murmur. Truth is, you expected this would be something more than monsters under the bed, but hearing Bradley essentially tearing himself apart at the seams to tell you, makes you feel like the biggest asshole in the world. “I shouldn’t have pushed you to, though.” 

“No, you absolutely should have.” Bradley counters. “I’m pretty sure I would have let this eat me alive keeping it from you.”   

“Why?” The question falls from your lips almost automatically. But you suppose if this is the time to throw all the cards on the table, you might as well.

“Because I didn’t want you to leave me.” Bradley says it so matter-of-factly, it takes you aback. 

“Do—Jesus—do you truly think so poorly of me?” Your voice suddenly high. Looking up at Bradley, he finally meets your gaze.

“What? No.” He seems genuinely confused.

“You’d think I’d leave you at the first sign of trouble?” You’d actually feel offended, if you weren’t more panicked about Bradley apparently thinking you’d be that shallow. 

“Everyone else did.” Bradley reply is so soft, so heartbroken, it stops your thoughts dead in their tracks. 

“Oh Bradley…” You sigh. You’ve really put your foot in it. “I wouldn’t have fought like that if that was the case.” You search his eyes, and all you see is pain. “And I’m still here, still fighting.” You assure him.

“I can’t be the man you deserve.” Bradley suddenly admits. You blanch. “Not today, probably not tomorrow. I don’t know when I’ll get there. Hell, I don’t even know where to go from here. But I think I can get there with you by my side.”

You’ve truly never wanted to slap sense into him more than at that moment. Instead, you grab him by the collar with your free hand, forcing him to look at you.

“What the actual fuck are you talking about?” You bite out. Bradley’s eyes widen at your sudden mood change. “What I deserve? Forget that bullshit! Consider rather what I want, shit, consider what I need.”  

Your tear stained cheeks are flaming red from indignation. You launch in what can only be described as the patented Williams spitfire barrage, not letting Bradley get a word in edge ways before you are done and well satisfied he finally gets it through his pretty but thick fucking skull he wasn’t the only one who is deeply invested in this relationship.

“You think I’d still be around after practically losing you the first time after San Diego, two fucking deployments and then some, plus you walking out last week if I didn’t fucking love you?! If I didn’t get what I need from this relationship, from you?!” Your voice is resolute, steadily rising in volume. 

“Did you think I couldn’t handle you being a whole person, flaws and all? There’s a reason I was asking you to finally let me in. I want you to treat me as your equal, and fucking understand that watching you hurt, hurts me too.” 

You take a breath, as Bradley opens his mouth to say something. No. You are not done yet.

“If I couldn’t offer you even a fucking semblance of the support and comfort you give me, it would be me who doesn’t deserve you.” Bradley’s eyes are large, a red tinge graces to the top of his ears. The fire in you dims and your voice softens. “What I’m saying is… I’ll be with you every step of the way, but you have to let me.” 

Bradley heard your barrage, but his brain short circuits on every response. All he keeps circling back to you admitting you love him. He knows the words, but he can barely comprehend them.

You… love him? 

Last week he was so angry he didn’t pay much heed to your almost-slip-of-the-tongue, but this time it seemed so much more… real. Eyes blazing, swearing at him, in the heat of the moment—he really shouldn’t think it so hot, not matter how much he normally enjoys getting a rise out of you.

Your hand is still clasped around the collar of his t-shirt. You’re looking at him with those big shining eyes—challenging him to dare argue with you after that. 

He won’t.

Agonizingly slowly, almost cautiously as if he’s afraid he’ll scare you off, he bends his head over to yours. You don’t move, waiting for Bradley to complete the motion. Gently, he ghosts his lips over yours, waiting for you to respond. You let go of Bradley’s collar, splaying your hand over the wrinkled fabric on his chest instead before responding in kind, softly pressing your mouth against his. 

If a kiss can feel like coming home, then this it, Bradley surmises. 

Neither of you moves to deepen the kiss, simply content at sharing a deeply intimate moment while your breath mingles. 

There is nothing left to prove, it’s enough to just be.

You have no idea how long you stand like that, lips touching, fingers still intertwined. Bradley pulls away a fraction, just so he can see your face. 

“Just so we’re clear, I fucking love you too.” He murmurs softly, with a ghost of that trademark smirk tugging at his lips.

Oh Christ, you really blurted that out whole this time, didn’t you?

“You fucking better.” You counter, pursing your lips playfully, trying to ignore the furious blush spreading over your face.

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

You end up sitting on the floor together, leaning against the couch. Bradley’s arm wrapped around you, as you rest your head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. The silence that was tortuous before is soothing now. Just sitting there together, the orange light of dusk reflecting on the surrounding walls, you finally have some time to heal together.

Your stomach growls.

You shift uncomfortably. Fuck. Being an unfortunate subscriber to the heartbreak diet, you only had a bunch of coffee and a candy bar to tide you over today. Everything else tends to come out pretty quickly, as your stomach has been in absolute knots the whole week. Not that you’ll ever admit to that.

“Are you hungry?” Bradley asks softly, like he’s scared to break the comfortable atmosphere—like your stomach didn’t already do that.

“I should probably eat something.” You admit. “Did you eat?”

Bradley shakes his head. You know you have scarily little food in the house.

“Want to order pizza?” You smile up at him. “Like that first weekend?” 

A grin breaks out on Bradley’s face. A real one that reaches his eyes. It makes your heart beat faster when you see him like this. When he smiles like that at you. Because of you. 

Yeah, you completely blurted out you loved him without a second thought, but… how could you not? If felt so natural to say, you didn’t even beat an eyelash.

Hell, you refused to examine what on earth possessed you to almost tell him in the heat of your argument last week, because you really didn’t want to get into that kind of self-introspection hellhole while figuring out how to navigate the mess you made together. 

Loving Bradley was just another puzzle piece falling into place.

“Which one do you want?” You hold your phone up to his face.

“Hmm, you know what I like.” Bradley’s voice is too low, too smooth in your ear. You shudder involuntarily. “Get some beers too, darlin’.” 

You close your eyes for a moment. This man knows how to play you like a goddamn fiddle, and it’s so painfully obvious.

But you are also so hungry it’s almost making you dizzy.

Placing the order, you lean back against Bradley, settling back into the comfort of his arms. He presses a kiss against your hair.

“Bradley—babe, what’s in the box?” You ask, looking up at him. The cardboard box has been sitting in the middle of the room, right where Bradley placed it when he came in. You half-forgot that was his whole reason for coming, that he wanted you to hold on to something for him.

“Oh yeah- that’s…”  Bradley chuckles awkwardly.

“You don’t have to tell me.” You interrupt quickly, remembering your sister’s words: you dig in and don’t know how to stop the bleeding. “I shouldn’t pry.” 

“No, I brought it for that exact reason, actually.” Bradley admits lightly. “If there’s one person who would know what to do with it and that I trust completely, it would be you.” 

You blush, not knowing how to respond.

“I spoke to Mav in the past week.” Bradley starts. “Penny says hi, by the way.” 

You look at Bradley, eyebrows raised in surprise. Penny remembers who you are? And Bradley spoke to Mitchell…about you?

“And I guess…what we got to…,” Bradley contemplates his words from a moment. “I have a hard time talking about my past. It feels like it’s all overshadowed by my mom’s death, problems with Mav - like it infected everything that came before.” 

You regard him carefully. Bradley seems at ease, like he’s accepted that situation as fact.

“But…” You prompt him gently.

“But I’m the one who let it come to that. I just don’t know how to untangle all those strands, I’ve spent the better part of a decade trying desperately not to think about it. And now I forgot how to talk about it.” His voice sounds so neutral, it’s raising your hackles. The fact he talks about his past in a such a calm way when it’s causing him such pain only underpins that he probably, actually forgot how to not only talk about, but also how to feel about it. Anger is easy to play off, but grief lasts.

“And what is it you’re looking to do with it now?” You ask him, not unkindly. 

“I’m not sure.” Bradley admits. “I haven’t looked in that box since college.” 

He looks at you deeply, pressing you against him tightly.

“If I’m going to open it, I want to do it with you.” 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[note] ok, so, I gave myself emotional damage writing this? It's weird, because I had been thinking about this chapter, the dialogue and everything for so long. And then when I sat down to write it, and it was fucking hard and hurt me in ways I honestly didn't anticipate? Hooray.

Anyway, good to know: the next chapter will be the last of the main story. I have an epilogue planned after that, and at least two side stories I really want to tell. So we're not totally done yet, but we're almost there. For now, happy holidays my sweethearts, and thank you for reading. <3

[taglist] @ponyboys-sunsets | @thatchickwiththecamera | @littlewhiterose | @katieshook02 | @straightforwardly | @zazzysseoul | @rororo06 | @datingbtr | @notalxx | @fresh-new-yoik-watah | @gretagerwigsmuse  | @swthxrry | @joshkiskasbunion | @caelipartem | @blackbrownie | @yanak324 | @unluckymonaghan | @letusbewildflowers | @ticklish-leafy-plant | @alana4610 | @eg-dr3amer3 | @turningtoclown | @mell-bell | @mak-32 | @avis15 | @helplesslydevoted | @benhardysdrumstick | @chaoticversion | @cherrycola27

[riaarivic]

HATE 6: BABOOSHKA (M) I MYG x F!reader

🌙 Pairings YoongixReader

🌙 Genres Mafia!AU, Smut, Angst, Action, Thriller, Enemies to lovers

🌙 Rating 18+ minors DNI

🌙 Summary  You were an INTERPOL Agent assigned to infiltrate the depths of the most powerful Gang in South Korea: The Seven Moons. Your objective: to impersonate the daughter of one of their leaders and destroy the operation from within. That is, if they don't discover you first.

And Traitors won’t have the mercy of a quick death

🌙 Warnings For this chapter: mentions of death, drugs and vioence, foul language, mentions of organized crime. I do not condone any of my characters actions: This is purely a work of fictions. You have been warned.

🌙 Chapter wordcount 4.1k

🌙 Series Index

1  2 3 4  5 6 7 8 9 10 11

HATE 6: BABOOSHKA (M) I MYG x F!reader

"So she arranged a place to go. To see. If he. Would fall for her incognito"

Seven Moons Mansion, Seoul, South Korea

You sighed in relief when you heard Jin say that Suga had left in the morning to oversee a gun shipment that was going to be sent from Russia and probably wouldn't be back for days.

The six remaining brothers ate breakfast together in the dining room. The walls were painted a deep shade of burgundy, with framed black and white photos of the Clan's story hanging. 

You could also see some pictures of them scattered on the walls. It would be really cute if you weren’t also looking at the young faces of Asia’s Most wanted criminals. 

On the table, there are several dishes of traditional Korean cuisine, including kimchi, bulgogi, and bibimbap all made for you by a private chef. The dishes are arranged on black ceramic plates, with elegant chopsticks and small bowls of dipping sauces placed alongside them. In one corner of the room, there is a small bar, stocked with a variety of top-shelf liquors and a few bottles of Soju…

All the details you rather think about to prevent your mind from remembering last night. 

You were absolutely not going to think about how good his fingers felt on your skin. 

Or how good he made you feel with his…

Oh, fuck.

The Lieutenant would be so proud of you that she would personally take charge of shooting you.

That if she found out...

Something that wasn't going to happen, because there was no way that you’ll write on the report that you fucked one of the mission's main targets on your second night in Korea. Your common sense had decided to fly off to Fiji for a permanent vacation the moment Suga kissed you.

Or did you kiss him?

Shit.

You knew that you were acting like a rookie 

But you had to kiss him even if you did it just once. You had to know how his lips would feel on yours, his hands on your body.

You just had to know...

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It was 3AM in the morning when you woke up, bodies tangled on his bed, it just felt so right and so absolutely wrong and out of place. Suga was still sleeping, breathing slowly like he didn’t have a care in the world. You rose from the bed and left the dark bed sheets fall from your body. 

You felt like a teenager in college about to walk the walk of shame for the first time. 

But instead of the hormone-filled hallways of the mid western university you attended and could only stand for a month. You were about to do that same walk of shame on the dark hallways of a 20 Bedroom Mansion in the outskirts of South Korea. 

You swear it would be the last time you'd done something like that.

Right?

Did you mention those rooms were also filled with blood thirsty criminals?

Your mind stopped wandering for a second when you heard heavy footsteps walking towards Suga’s bedroom.

He told you no one went to that side of the house. 

Did He lie? 

Because someone was getting closer to the very much open door.

You had to get out of there.

And you had to get out fast.

You turned around to see Suga awake and wide eyed looking at you half dressed. You didn’t need to say it to each other, you both knew if someone saw you there you were both dead. He motioned for you to stay right where you were standing next to the bed, so he could peek into the hallway.

But you couldn't wait and risk someone seeing you like this, what were you going to say? What were they reading poetry Half naked? Or that you had a spider under your skirt and he tried to kill it by taking all of your clothes and his clothes off?

Well, he kind of did that.

The point is that if you said you weren't doing what you seemed to be doing. No one was going to believe you.

Because you were doing exactly what you seemed to be doing.

So you did the only logical thing you could think of at the time.

If the door wasn't an option...

You were going to jump off the balcony and into the gardens on the first floor.

It wouldn't be the first time you'd done something like that.

So you did.

You fell on heavily your feet and did not quite lose your balance. When you looked up you could see the face of panic and astonishment with which Suga was looking at you from his balcony. He definitely didn't expect you to do something like that.

You brushed the dust off your knees and continued walking towards your bedroom. As you went up to the second floor, you managed to see a tall figure entering the darkness of the corridors of the west wing of the mansion.

The moonlight hit his face for just a second and in that moment you could clearly see who it was...

What is Kim Namjoon doing outside at this time of night?

Although it was dark, you could also see that his shirt was stained with blood and for a second you were tempted to follow him to find out more, but it had been too much adrenaline for one night.

And you really didn't want to get caught.

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“Miss Nari, did you sleep well?”  the voice of a smiling Jimin brought you out of your thoughts from the other side of the table.

“I don't think she did. I mean, she couldn’t have if she was walking around the house at 3AM in the morning” Taehyung replied, staring at you right next to his brother.

He saw you...

Everybody else on that table wasn't really paying attention to Taehyung but he kept going at you like he was on a mission “But what I don't understand is why use the windows as an exit. You do know that Suga-Hyung's door is always open, right miss Nari?” the blue-haired man shrugged his shoulders with a giggle and you looked at him with panic on your face.

Hearing that, Jin choked on the rice he had just put in his mouth and Jhope was about to spit out his toast with egg and jam.

The whole table was now looking at you in surprise.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Everyone except Namjoon, who let out an incredulous laugh “Taehyung, don't tell me you're trying the merchandise again. To think that Miss Nari would be jumping out of the windows of the house is so ridiculous that it is disrespectful. Apologize to her.” he said the last thing as an order, the deep dragon eyes of the clan’s right hand were undoubtedly one of the most intimidating things you had ever seen.

Taehyung immediately understood his older brother's tone and swallowed thickly “I'm sorry, Miss Nari. It was just a joke”  he looked at you with a bored expression.

This guy definitely hated you and for no reason.

"Don't worry, it's okay" you replied trying to smile at him and continued eating your breakfast as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

The rest of the meal was spent in complete silence, which made most of them quite uncomfortable.

“Princess Nari, you must be excited today, your formal work within the clan begins” Jhope was the first to dare to speak “You will go with Namjoon and Jin to some boring meetings at the office. But tonight will be so exciting at the club. It has been very long since the last time we were all together having fun”

Ah yes, the Club.

Serendipity was the most exclusive club in all of Seoul. It was no surprise it belonged in the hands of the clan and was managed by none other than Park Jimin.

If you want to spend an exciting night in the city you just had to look for him.

“Every night in my club is entertaining, Hobi-hyung, you know very well about that” the blond glanced at his brother “but it will be much more fun if we can all be there, Jin-hyung hasn't been there for a long time. Maybe it’s time to dust off those terrible dance steps” now everyone was laughing out loud as Jin yelled at the youngest.

You had only known them for a short time, but you were surprised by the family warmth they all had when they were together. Right now inside the privacy of their home they didn't look like criminals. Sometimes when they were like that they really did look like a bunch of brothers.

That almost made you smile.

Before you remembered that each and every one of those men had blood on their hands.

None of them were innocent.

And each and every one them had to pay for their crimes.

“Excuse me, I'm going to get ready to go to the office. See you tonight guys” You made a small bow ready to leave the dining hall, when someone grabbed your arm from behind. 

“Allow me to go with you, Miss Nari, I would like to speak with you for a second” Namjoon was right next to you without giving you time to say anything else, taking you by the arm and out of the dining room.

Namjoon looked around and with large steps led you to a corridor that was completely empty to push you against a wall. You could see an emotion in his eyes that you could not decipher “I don't want to have to tell you this again, but whatever you were doing last night. Will not happen again. Are we clear?” The voice of the young leader was deep almost like a growl coming from his chest and you could only nod.

He had seen you too.

“I don't know what stupid fantasy my idiot brother has made you believe. But Miss Nari” he let out a little exasperated sigh “He's not a person, he's a monster, for your own good stay away from him. Everything Suga touches, he destroys. Believe me he is not good for you”

Are you jealous, Kim Namjoon? you raised an eyebrow at the tought.

“And you are, Namjoon? I mean, are you good for me?” Finding your voice again, you shot the question with an expression as cold as ice. That took the man by surprise “And to be honest with you, Namjoon. I really don't know what you're talking about. Because I definitely wasn't the one who was sneaking away in the halls with a bloody shirt. That was you.” he opened his eyes in surprise and you continued "I get it, you're a gangster. You were probably giving someone a one way ticket to their next life. But you looked kind of nervous last night. So if you ask me, I don't think you were doing Right Hand ganster business. Am I wrong?"

If he had seen you, you also saw him.

And you knew you were walking a thin line before falling off the cliff.

Namjoon set his jaw and tightened his grip on your arm “You are playing with fire Lee Nari and let me tell you something… andyou are about. To. Get. Burnt” He bit every word of that sentence, making himself very clear that he was threatening you.

“So how is it? I must be afraid of Suga but not of you, even though you're hurting my arm and you just threatened me” although you and Namjoon were impossibly close, you took a step closer to be able to whisper in his ear. Yes, you were playing with fire. But what the right hand didn't know is that you really liked the burn  “As see it, we both didn't see anything last night because neither of us were where we were.”

He was listening carefully to your words while drowning you with his gaze. You knew he was waiting for you to continue “I also remember that I told you to call me by my name. Because we're friends right, Namjoon? We are together in this” You say stepping away from him and releasing yourself from the man's grasp in a single movement “I'm going up to get ready for today, I understand that your father wants you to show me the offices. See you in a bit, Namjoon. I am really looking forward to getting to know eachother more” you said with a smile and a wink before turning to walk to your bedroom.

Namjoon chuckled, stupefied.

It was actually funny to him.

No one had ever dared to challenge him like that. Not his own brothers, not even Jin who was two years older than him had the nerve to talk to him like that.

And after that moment you became a fun game that this man was willing to play.

Because for Kim Namjoon there was no one who would not bow down to his power.

It would be fun for him to tame this little brat.

After all, he was used to having everything he wanted.

He would be the heir to the clan.

And you would be his.

He was going to make sure of that personally.

Even if he had to get his hands dirty.

Again.

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BH Group Headquarters, Gangnam, Seoul, South Korea.

The luxurious office is situated on the top floor of the towering skyscraper that belongs solely to the BH Group, The Seven Moon’s legal business front. The elevator doors open up to a spacious and sophisticated reception area, decorated with marble floors, plush velvet sofas, and a cascading waterfall feature.

Namjoon, ushered you into a private elevator reserved for the clan's top executives. As the elevator ascends, you catch glimpses of the sprawling cityscape through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

It was beautiful.

We’re not in Kansas anymore, you thought, feeling impressed by the opulence of the office and the power that comes with it.

But as you look around the lavish office, you can't shake the feeling that you were being watched.

That you were in danger.

But this was what you came here to do.

Looking at your surroundings, everything seemed normal, mundane. You had to be a member of the mafia, or an undercover INTERPOL agent, to realize what was really going on behind the incessant noise of photocopiers and constant clicking in every cubicle.

Only a highly trained eye could tell that some of the employees weren't really working, they were just pretending to.

If you looked closely enough, you could see the fact that some of those employees were wearing far too many items of clothing, as if they were trying to hide a clan mark or tattoo.

But Jhope was right, for the rest of the day you were totally bored.

The unnecessarily formal presentations and spending the entire afternoon listening to bootlicking executives presenting their departments. All while you just had to smile and look pretty.

The perfect, educated heiress.

This day had completely drained your energy.

“Miss Nari, this is Grace Rogers, she also comes from America and will be your assistant from today” Namjoon's deep voice made you come out of your trance, he took your hand to take you to an office at the end of the hall.

Inside it was a petite blonde typing rapidly on her computer while talking on the phone with perfect Korean pronunciation.

Wow, to think that I can hardly pass myself off as a native.

The woman stopped everything she was doing when she realized the presence of the new arrivals. Taking a good look at her, you thought she might be on the cover of a fashion magazine, dressed in a distinctly designer navy blue suit that matched her eyes.

She was tiny, the amount of papers, folders and screens almost did not let you see her on the other side of the desk. But when she smiled she had an aura that covered the entire room. Grace Rogers had an air of confidence, like a woman who's used to swimming with sharks.

But what caught your attention about the woman was the amount of gold she was carrying. Rings, earrings and at least three chains.

You have seen that before.

But couldn’t remember where.

And before you knew it Grace was hugging you too enthusiastically.

“A pleasure to meet you Miss Lee, I'm at your service for whatever you need” That's when you noticed a small detail, behind her effusive greeting and even bigger smile was a slight Slavic accent.

Polish? 

No.

Russia?

Maybe.

Namjoon looked at the blonde as if he was already used to her behavior “Grace will be at your disposal for everything you need. And she will accompany you in some of your family tasks. Also she will make sure that you adapt perfectly to your new life with us” he emphasized in the last two words.

“Of course! I hope we will be great friends from now on. These boys are too all work, no play.” It was almost imperceptible but it was there, that accent. You narrowed your eyes a little but returned the greeting with a short curtsy.

"Likewise, it's a pleasure for me too, Grace. Call me Nari, please" He told her and the blonde winked at her.

"It's a fact, Nari. By the way, I love that Chanel dress, that white lily tone reminds me of one that I bought two summers ago in the south of France” Her entire expression said complicity, there was something else in her words but you weren't sure what.

Unless…

The hell? you thought, your dress was definitely not white.

It was lilac.

Wait a minute, white lilies in the south of France?

Oh...

Oh shit.

Blue-eyed blonde.

Russian.

Her name is not Grace Rogers.

This woman was Anya Drozdov.

Your second informant.

Anya works for Interpol.

And sje just told you the code phrase to identify her.

Oh shit, really.

You gave her a wide smile now, letting her know that you understood.

Namjoon looked confused at the exchange between the two of you but before he could say anything Seokjin joined you.

“Namjoon they are waiting for us in the meeting room, father wants to discuss something important” Jin stopped in front of the three of them in the office corridor “Oh, Hi Grace, do you think you can take over from here?”

“Of course, boss, I'm sure Miss Lee, sorry Nari must not have had lunch. Also, I'm sure you haven't taken her for a tour of Seoul yet” Her accent had completely disappeared, Anya had realized that you also recognized her.

“Is it okay with you, Miss Nari?” Namjoon asked feeling unsure

“Yes, I'm starving.” you gave him a little smile “and I would also like to visit Seoul. It is been a while since the last time I came here”

"Perfect then. Grace, please take her shopping for a dress for tonight. I would have loved to do it myself, but my father doesn't like us making him wait.” Namjoon took out his black credit card from his wallet and gave it to you with a wink  “See you later, Miss Nari.” You heard Jin chuckle behind him and tried not to roll your eyes,  amused that the Right Hand believed that his rich boy bad boy technique was going to work for you.

Two can play that game.

“Oh I’ll make sure to get something especially pretty for tonight” you said the last two words without breaking eye contact with the Right Hand “See you later, Namjoon, Jin-ssi” you could see the gears on Namjoon’s mind turning when you gave him the most innocent smile you could ever fake. 

It actually made your stomach cringe. 

He really is into the innocent kind. 

Gross.

"And try not to cause too much trouble, Rogers." Namjoon added before getting lost as he crossed the corner of the hallway not even looking back at you. Jin was right behind him with an amused grin as he witnessed his brother get all flustered by a mere smile. 

To think they were both going up to interrogate and possibly torture an informant in his father’s office. But yeah, there goes Namjoon giggling like a schoolgirl. 

When Anya and you were alone again she started to walk towards the  employee elevator. You noticed that you were surrounded by an army of bodyguards, all dressed in tailored suits and sporting earpieces all following “The Boss’s orders” and you couldn’t help but wonder which one. “I'm going to take you to a Korean food place that I'm sure you'll like and then we're going to…”

Once you got in the elevator the bodyguard army let you ride alone and you took the chance to greet Anya in Russian “It has been a while, right?” you interrupted the short woman and she shot you a serious look, hardening her expression and stopping her smile for the first time since you had met her.

“Not here, Princess Nari” she looked up at the surveillance camera on the corner of the elevator above you. They didn’t have one in the first one you got on. Maybe the top executives of BH really didn’t want to be seen entering the building. “The driver and your bodyguards are waiting for us in the parking lot” she continued speaking in Korean and gave you a big smile again. 

Not here...

Princess Nari.

Why would she call you that?

This day was definitely getting a lot more interesting.

The elevator doors opened and you stepped out into the parking lot where three men were waiting for them in front of a black Lincoln SUV. In that moment you knew two things: one the car was heavily armored and the bodyguards would leave you alone for long enough to talk.

Meanwhile Anya chattered non-stop on the way to the restaurant and kept talking all through the meal. Mentioning completely trivial facts like her favorite Korean food, her opinion on New York Fashion Week, even why in her opinion MARVEL was ruining their own superhero movies.

You knew what Anya was doing, she was tiring the bodyguards with all the chatter that could go through her head.

She was making them drop their guard and stop listening to their conversation.

 

It was necessary, but it didn't make it any less insufferable.

By the time you got to the Boutique none of the bodyguards could hear another word. Now you could finally talk about what was important. All the information that Anya had collected so that you could fulfill her mission.

That was Anya's specialty.

She went from one personality to another, with the same ease that a chameleon could change colors. That made it the perfect element to adapt to any situation.

She could pose as any role assigned to her by headquarters.

An American woman working as the director of public relations at a Korean multinational? It was a perfect identity for her.

She's an expert at playing the role of a high-powered executive, attending meetings and making deals with ease. But beneath the surface, she's always alert and ready to act at a moment's notice. 

Always carrying a concealed gun. 

You know, if you’re always ready… you don’t have to get ready.

Anya is the type of girl you do not fuck with.

She had been there for a year and had already earned the trust of the two young leaders in charge of the BH group. Even Namjoon considered her a friend.

Anya was famous at the training center for her skills.

But despite her ability to go undercover and her chameleonic personality. Anya was loyal in every sense of the word, she cared for her loved ones like no one else and had a special kink for revenge when someone tried to hurt them.

That was perhaps because Anya had also grown up in crime.

She was the daughter of a Russian mafia boss who had been imprisoned a few years ago in an Interpol maximum security prison and her mother had been kidnapped and sold on the skin market.

That completely destroyed her.

That's why she vowed never to get involved with a clan again.

Some old habits take a little longer to break than others, and her skills were of great use to Interpol's organized crime unit. So here you were: both agents, in an exclusive boutique in Seoul buying an evening dress that would bring down even the strongest of the men of that clan.

“Hello, welcome to our boutique. '' They were greeted by a strikingly beautiful woman in her late twenties with long, dark hair, piercing eyes and a pointy nose that you thought you had seen before.

“Nari, This is Jung Garam, she is the owner of this boutique and my roommate”

The woman gave you a little bow before introducing herself “It's a pleasure to meet you. Miss Lee, we were waiting for the arrival of the princess of our clan”

Princess. 

There was that name again.

That's when you saw it.

A small tattoo of a Moon covered by clouds that adorned  Anya’s wrist.

Pointing out the oath of allegiance she had taken. 

The symbol of the Seven Moons.

Anya had sworn allegiance to the clan.

But why? 

Princess Nari.

You knew you had heard someone call you that before.

Oh fuck

Anya what were you thinking?

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Hello!! I Really want to take a minute to appreciate everyone who had liked and reblogged HATE!I truly, truly appreciate it 🥹🥹🥹

Let me know what do you think of the story so far!! For the ones who are interested, the tag list is open If you want to be on it you can leave a comment or send me an ask! 💌💌

Tag list: @allamericanuniverse @drunkzseok

[selenacosmic]

Romance in the office.

Chapter 20- making up.

The words stuck with me, though I didn’t know how to react. There was a bad taste in my mouth, a feeling of impatience building up, I don’t like this feeling.

Yoshimoto looked at me with a serene expression, there was sympathy in his eyes, but also relief from telling me the truth. I took a deep breath to continue asking him for more, i couldn’t stop now that I know so much.

“An arranged marriage… that would have made sense if shingen was younger, why now?” It’s not that shingen was old, but he was an older man and had built his independence over the years, it’s strange that his grandfather would still try to control his life like this.

“On that note, I must agree with you. The only thing we can think of is that he is holding something against my cousin.” So, it’s possible that their grandfather is blackmailing Shingen, it must be something important if it’s affecting him so much.

“If that’s the case, wouldn’t dating me, even if we were pretending, put him in danger?” Going against his grandfather this way would only give him motive to harm shingen.

“While he is a difficult man, his grandfather cares a lot about the company’s reputation. If shingen was seen dating someone, only to be seen being engaged to someone else, rumors would circulate and would bring a bad reputation to him.” That does make sense, I could see that Yoshimoto was annoyed when talking about their grandfather. Perhaps for now i should give him a break.

“Thank you, Yoshimoto. It means a lot that you are telling me all of this.” I am not sure if he sees me as someone to be trusted, but I knew I couldn’t give up now that I was aware of the situation.

Yoshimoto sipped on his wine, finishing everything in one go. He turned on the chair he was sitting to face me with a less stressed look. “Don’t take what I told you for granted, I trust that you will do the right thing.”

That’s all I needed to know, what I had to do next was risky but it was important, I had to talk to Shingen. Yoshimoto offered to give me a ride home, which I was grateful for. Before confronting my ex boss/fake lover, I needed to gather my thoughts to know how to approach him.

After getting home, I put the box with my belongings on the kitchen table, this was an issue for later. Now what I needed was a bath to clear my head and get into fresh clothes. Before I could leave to the bathroom though, something caught my attention. It was the cat mug. Placed on top of the shelf, among other cups that were placed in an organized pattern, it stood out when compared to the other clear glass cups and plain white mugs. Somehow that’s how I felt about shingen, he stood out among other people in a good way, he was unique and beautiful… perhaps this feeling that I have really is love.

A bright smile touch my lips as I hurried to the bathroom, determination to get him back to his senses building up.

—————

My body felt amazing after a bath, I was needing it after the day I had. Though I couldn’t let myself relax just yet, there was much to do now. Knowing that my boss lives on the same apartment as me, I had an advantage on how to get to him.

The thing is, I had stopped to think why I was so worried about this, I could happily enjoy the new job position I had and the money from the contract, but it didn’t felt right to me. Looking at the cat mug on the kitchen, my feelings became much clearer. So this is love… I only experienced feeling attracted to someone or just small infatuation before, but love? I only heard of it in dramas and love stories, it felt sweet but painful. I felt like I couldn’t leave shingen aside, no matter how much money I was offered. At least I was lucky that the cliche of being offered money in exchange of breaking up with shingen didn’t happen to me, I have noticed it’s a pattern in dramas.

Putting my worries aside, I hurried out of the room, the window from the living room showed the last rays of sunlight for this day, night was coming and it was going to be dark soon. Would visiting him at such a late hour strike a misunderstanding to him…? No, this is a serious situation and I can’t leave it for another occasion.

I had put comfortable clothes and fluffy slippers, there was no certainty on whether he would let me in to talk. I don’t think he would be rude to leave me standing at the door, but I wasn’t sure if he would open the door at all. I had to have a bit of confidence in myself, this was for him.

Each step I took towards the elevator was nerve wracking, every possible scenario playing in my mind as I got closer to my destination. The cramped space inside the elevator only made my anxiety bigger, he tried pushing me away today, what certainty did I have that he would listen? Well, I am not one to give up easily, and I will not lose him after I realized my true feelings.

Once I had reached his floor, the gravity of the situation was hitting in, each step I took towards his door felt heavier, as if i would froze in place and never be able to reach the door and knock.

Taking a deep breath, I knocked on his door, waiting for a response. It was now or never, so I couldn’t give up easily or let him slip away. I heard footsteps approaching the door, that sweet voice of his shouting ‘one moment’ before finally opening the door.

I had to put my bravest face to look at him, his eyes widened for a moment before softening. He leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed.

“Angels really do exist, here is one right in front of me.” It was like the distance I felt from him this morning was gone, I could see affection in his eyes, the same warm affection I saw flicker in his gaze this morning before he pushed me away. His smile held so many emotions.

“Shingen… I think you know why I am here.” My voice was serious, but soft to show closure.

His smile seemed sad, was he expecting me to come and confront him? Regardless, I would find out as we talked. “Yes, I do. But I cannot leave a goddess standing, come inside.” He moved out of the way so that I could enter.

That’s odd, he didn’t question how I knew the truth, or what truth I was speaking about. Did he predict that Yoshimoto would tell me everything?

I stepped inside and felt a rush of comfort, I was so close to him again but only physically, I had to go deeper with our conversation. He guided me towards the living room, where we sat on his sofa, the same comfortable sofa where we got a bit more intimate. Even if it was just a kiss, it felt like there was a connection.

He sat next to me, those beautiful gray eyes focused on me. My hands were fidgeting a bit but I felt more confident now that I was next to him.

“Shingen, I know the truth. Why did you lie to me about so much?” My eyes focused on his, holding his gaze.

He looked thoughtful for a moment while gazing at me, his hand reached out to touch my cheek. He pulled back fast. “I didn’t think you needed to know everything. You played your part, and that was all that mattered.”

“You have to be honest with me, why end the contract so early?” The whole point of fake dating me was to avoid the arranged marriage, ending this now puts him in danger again.

That smile disappeared, his face much more serious now, holding the same coldness I felt this morning at his office. It was like he had put a wall between us.

“Why do you care about that, Mrs. Secretary? Did you come comfort your ex boss now that you don’t work under me?” Those words felt like sharp knives in my heart, but something told me this wasn’t how he felt.

You are trying to push me further away, aren’t you?

Well, that won’t happen. I know that those words were far too practiced to be true.

“You ought to know me better than that, Shingen.” His name sounded so natural in my tongue now, before I struggled to call him so formally like this. I moved closer on the couch, noticing his eyes were a bit startled. “The contract may have ended, but I am not moving away nor am I taking the money I was promised. No amount in the world could compare to the feeling of being by your side.”

I was much closer now, my hands moved to grip at his and not let go.

He sighed deeply, the corners of his cheeks were red as he furrowed his brows. “I should have never asked you to do this with me, I could have admired you from afar as just my cute secretary.” His warm arms pulled me onto his lap, which surprised me. “Do you have any idea of what you do to me? I don’t think I can let you go now.”

“I don’t want you to, because I won’t let go of you either.” I smiled at him, wrapping my arms around his neck. I don’t think we have ever been this close before, this was different from that time we were kissing here, it felt like we both knew what we wanted.

“My sweet, beautiful goddess…” his voice was a whisper as our faces got closer to each other, we didn’t waste any time to kiss each other.

This time it wasn’t just a quick kiss nor a confused make out, we knew how we felt.

To be continued…

[asleep-in-the-keep-sideblog]

Asleep In The Keep: A DP x BNHA fic

Summary: A tired hero goes to a café (and some other stuff happens)

Word count: 5149

Chapter 20: I Need Some Coffee...

20/?

There was a new person working at Shouta’s favorite coffee place. This wouldn’t be unusual in any other establishment, but the old man who ran it was very particular about who he let in the back.

A few years back, the place was under investigation for possible ties to the black market as well as aiding vigilantes. A customer reported that they saw a well-known local vigilante go through the back entrance of the store, and a few days later, the same one was seen with new gear. There was other circumstantial evidence as well. Background checks revealed that all the baristas were past vigilantes that had already been caught and processed. However, the owner, Tanaka Masaru, a “quirkless” 67 year old, had a clean record, too clean, not even an overdue fine. There was no doubt in Shouta’s mind that the identity was fake. In the end, Shouta wasn’t able to find any concrete evidence on the coffee shop, and since all they had was circumstantial evidence and 1 eye witness, the case fell apart and was closed. The police department did not pursue it after that since there hadn’t been any vigilantes pop up in that area. Well… except for one.

Shouta has been coming here since then, it was on the way to school and they (surprisingly) made really good coffee. The owner was eccentric as well. Sometimes, Shouta could see him in a corner making little figurines and dishes, mumbling and laughing to himself, which ruined the peaceful atmosphere of the shop. Shouta wasn’t mad about it though, more of slightly annoyed whenever it happened. There was a tall shelf covering a wall that was home to the figurines. Most of them were past vigilantes, little animals or regular customers and staff (Shouta even had one up there). The ones on the top were the oldest and most intricately made, while they got less and less detailed as the shelves went down. The store also sold cups and mugs that were in a similar fashion. They were really expensive, but the craftsmanship was worth it (Shouta even had one or two at home). 

Recently, a kid posted on social media about the place, and since then it has become a trendy spot with the youths, at least that's what Shouta heard. Fortunately, it was 5 AM and so no kids were even alive yet. Shouta could enjoy the quiet atmosphere while he waited for his coffee. He probably shouldn’t be having any more coffee today since he just finished up a long night’s search. Last night (or earlier this morning if you wanted to be technical), was the first lead he got since he started his investigation. Phantom was a tricky one, and his quirk was great at quick getaways, but he was young and one day he’ll make a mistake. But Shouta doubted it was gonna be today. He may as well listen to his husband and actually catch up on sleep. His schedule was still clear since his kids were still at internships. He heard Midoriya had even gotten out of the hospital a few days ago. Problem child…

Shouta’s fingers tapped impatiently on the table. All fantasies of sleep washed away like soap. He needed coffee. Shouta had entertained the notion of quitting before in the past. He has had so much coffee in his life that he suffers withdraws without it. He has been considering buying patches, but he loves the taste and ritual too much to stop. That’s what he said about smoking too. It first started after Oboro died, a way for Shouta to slow time and try to breathe it in. In the end though, it only made things worse. Now he drinks coffee. 

He looked over at the new barista as he made his coffee. His order was simple and always the same; a simple black coffee. Impossible to mess up, but amazing when done right. The kid, whose tag said Tommy , looked to be struggling and Shouta could smell burnt coffee beans from past orders. When the kid checked him out, he gave one look at Shouta before saying that he didn’t have to pay anything. Shouta was shocked to say the least, but he didn’t argue. Free coffee tastes better than bought coffee, that's why he wasn’t worried about the smell. He wondered why the kid didn’t charge him, maybe he just recognized him and was a fan or something (it doesn’t happen a lot, but it does still happen). He severely doubted it.

It wasn’t just the anticipation of getting coffee that made him keep looking at the barista. “Tommy,” what a strange name in Japan. Despite his height and young age, he seemed to carry himself with a sense of steadiness that you only get after experience. Whenever he did seem to slip or mess up, it had seemed intentional, like he was trying to direct your suspicion away from him. The fact he was even working here was cause enough to run a background check. If it had been just those things Shouta would (probably), but of course, there was more.

The final nail in the coffin, and the real reason that Shouta was even studying the boy so intently, was sitting on the table in front of him. The manilla folder that Detective Tsukauchi gave him held the description of a suspicious boy that was seen before the Phantom sighting. Tall & lanky, pale skin, and blue-green eyes, which could describe a lot of the population. Again, if that was the only information provided then Shouta would look away, but then the file listed the most prominent feature of the suspect, black hair with a white stripe. Some minor but still important details were how cold and lifeless the boy was. He apparently had given the other heroes quite the scare. It was obviously the same kid. Whether or not he was also Phantom was left to be determined. 

They had no understanding of his powers, except for the general ghost theme, and even that wasn’t consistent. What type of ghost is able to use ice like that? In horror stories the most ghosts could do was drop the temperature a little bit, not form glaciers able to stop explosions. Shouta had his own theories. Perhaps Phantom’s original quirk was a ghost mutation quirk, but AFO overloaded it with so many enhancement quirks (along with some new ones) that it created this tonally confused mess. If that were true, why couldn’t he have also given Phantom some minor shapeshifting quirk? 

He looked at the boy again. If he was Phantom, he’d be really dumb. The café is a 15 minute walk from the alley. It will only be a matter of time before the Hero Commission checks here. Shouta rubbed his temples… Not unless he told them otherwise. The Hero Commission had no reason to believe that he would mislead them, except for his affiliation with UA. Fortunately, Principal Nezu had the foresight to set Shouta up as more loyal to the Commission than UA in the years prior. Shouta wasn’t proud of the things he’s done, but he couldn't argue with the results. 

Suddenly, he heard a loud shout behind him, and the wet sound of someone spitting on the ground. 

“What the hell is this shit?!” A large man with really nice hair in a uniform blasted out. He marched over to the counter that divided him and Tommy, and yelled even louder , “You can’t expect me to drink this garbage?! I paid 1,304¥ for this and I demand a refund!” That's way overpriced, Shouta thought . What idiot buys a cup of coffee for that much?

“I’m sorry dude-” The teen held his hands up in a placating manner. He looked nervous. 

“Dude?!” The man had become red, and his hair changed colors and hues to match like a fire. 

“Sir!” The kid quickly corrected, “but could you tell me what was wrong with it?” The kid looked down at him, confused. He was tall, maybe 6 '1 while slouching, and easily towered over the Uneri hair spray model. It was like Shouta observed before, the kid was purposely making himself seem less like a threat.

“What’s wrong with it? What isn’t wrong with it?!” His hands started moving like crazy, spilling some of his coffee, “It was scolding hot when I first took a sip of it, it even burned my tongue!” He stuck his tongue out to prove this, it looked fine. He started ranting again, “Then when I took the next sip it was freezing cold! Honestly it was a wonder of science that that even happened-I think this should be donated to science and you with it! Imagine the kind of foreign and new technology that could be discovered?!” 

“I’ll give you the refund and make you a new coffee if you like?” he tilted his head, “It will be a little wait since I’m backed up right now…” He looked around the shop which only held the three of them. Truly a master of his craft. 

Shouta clenched his fists. He knew the kid could handle it on his own. A bratty customer must’ve been a vacation compared to what the kid had been through before. It was probably better to stay out of it. He didn’t want to cause a scene or alert Tommy to what he was doing and what he knew. He really shouldn’t get involved…

“It’s time for you to stop-” no later than when the final word left his mouth, had the man flung his coffee at the boy. It splattered on the boy leaving him soaked and confused, rage and a green glow in his eyes. 

Shouta had a similar reaction. In no quicker than a blink, his capture scarf wrapped around the prick. He pulled it tight, and the man fell down at the ankles, hitting his head on the counter. Good. 

By this point the kid had backed deeper behind the counter, staring anxiously at the rope. This is exactly what Shouta didn’t want. Too late now. He pulled the asshole along the ground, careful to make sure he bumped into every chair leg or corner. His hair dragged behind him, sweeping up dust and dirt and getting knotted. His hair was gorgeous, every wave of his head reflected the warm light of the café that gave it the illusion it was changing colors. Deep blues, vibrant reds and crisp yellows that reminded Shouta of his husband, it was honestly a sight to behold. Too bad the guy was such a dick. He yanked harder when they reached the door frame, making sure he hit his head on the door stopper. Shouta released him out of his tape as if he was flapping dirt out of a rug. The dick-bag looked back at Shouta with a rage clear on his face. He started marching towards Shouta, but he thought it was time to show off his own hair. Like a cobra raising it’s hood, Shouta’s hair flowed menacingly at the man below him. He sneered and spit at Shouta, but walked away, grumbling to himself. 

Shouta let his hair back down and sighed. He was no longer angry, just tired. He turned back into the coffee shop and sat at his original table. Luckily the folder was still there. Shouta had to be more aware next time. Tommy, now recovered from the display, walked over to hand Shouta his coffee. The kid looked awkward and suspicious all at the same time. 

“Thank you…for that…” Tommy was looking away and gave Shouta a short bow. Clearly he wasn’t used to it. That could be because he was isolated from a young age and so never had to learn proper manners. Shouta was 92% sure the kid in front of him was Phantom.   

“Anytime kid.” Shouta nodded at him, and he went back behind the counter. He must’ve felt Shouta’s eyes still on him since he grabbed a random cup and pretended to start cleaning it, still looking back and forth at him. Shouta turned his gaze down. This is the kid that freaked out Mount Lady and Kamui Woods? Shouta almost laughed. 

No. Although he may seem like a kid, he was still an unknown. Of course he wanted him to join UA and get a chance at a life he clearly never had, but Shouta had to be ready for the very real possibility that he could still side with All For One. He couldn’t let himself get attached. 

Still-Shouta was glad the kid was alright, customers can be such assholes sometimes. And despite the turn of events, Phantom didn’t seem to distrust him. He could use that. He was already a regular but now he had to be extra aware to come in when he was on shift. He really wanted Phantom to go to UA, not just for the Principle. 

He took a sip of his coffee and then immediately almost spit it out. Phantom’s head whipped towards him, but he was able to get it down and smiled (although it probably looked more like a grimace). Only after the boy turned around again did Shouta unclench his jaw. How do you mess up black coffee that bad? It was thick like tar and had an overwhelming burnt taste, Shouta would rather drink liquified coal. 

Shouta looked up to the heavens trying to summon however much strength it would take to finish it. That strength came in a little flask he kept on him (for the hard days), and he poured some of its contents inside. He took another swig and was almost able to convince himself the sharpness came from the whiskey. After he was done, he walked up the bin to put the dishes in and laid it down like a body into a grave. The cup didn’t deserve that…He nodded towards Phantom, Phantom nodded back, and left the café.

Maybe he should switch to patches.

Zzz

After he left the café, Shouta went back to UA. He had already messaged Principle Nezu about his encounter with the suspected Phantom. The maniac responded instantly and said that he would be waiting for him at his desk. Shouta always had the theory that Nezu lived there, in his office or some hidden room in the school, maybe both. 

Luckily, the school was only a 5 minute walk from the café. Phantom was really considerate of Shouta’s routine, he now didn’t have to waste 5 hours a day scouring the city for him. Maybe Phantom wanted to go to UA and that’s why he was so close, Shouta laughed to himself sleepily. The coffee from before didn’t help at all. Another thought bubbled to the surface. Or maybe he was stalking the school. It was important to see both sides. The reason Shouta chose not to believe it was stupidity. An old but still meaningful quote rang in his ears, "Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity" And the kid was also working at a coffee shop that was a short walk from his crime scene. If he did join UA, Shouta would have to teach him to be better aware of his surroundings. He smiled at the thought.

He made it through the building without any hassle. Some teachers liked to be there early even without the kids there. If Shouta wasn’t mistaken, they still had 2, no wait it’s a new day, 1 more day of internships left, then tomorrow to recover. Shouta would never admit it out loud, but he had started to miss the little shits, even Kaminari and Midoriya. He was about ready to expel them both for their stupidity. Midoriya because he’s always breaking something and Kaminari because just last week, he had to send him to the nurse’s office for stuffing hot sauce packets up his nose. Again. He hadn’t even used his quirk that day. Shouta was half convinced that the boy just used his quirk as an excuse. He’s been wanting to talk to his parents about making him wear a rubber helmet so he doesn’t fry the last few brain cells he has left. Shouta pinched the bridge of his nose at the prospect…

He passed by Power Loader’s workshop. The door was cracked open a little, letting smoke waft into the hallway. Students liked to blame Mei for all the accidents in that room, but Power Loader still has his mishaps. He says that mistakes lead to innovation, maybe that’s why Mei was so unrestrained in her learning. Power Loader was sitting at his work bench behind a fan drinking coffee. It was one of the rare occasions Shouta got to see more of his face. Even in work meetings he had something covering it, either his hair or a helmet. They nodded to each other, and Shouta went on his way. He had never been close with the man, seeing him more as a co-worker he was friendly with rather than an acquaintance, but the lure of coffee was tempting. He couldn't of course since he had news for Principle Nezu. 

None of the other faculty members stopped him. Like with Power Loader, Shouta was pleasant with them but had no more than a working relationship with anyone in the office, except of course his husband and Nemuri, who he couldn’t escape from. 

Although Yagi has been trying to get closer to him for some reason, he even brought him lunch one time. Shouta thinks it’s so he can get more information about Midoriya. He would be stupid not to notice the connection between them. Their ‘secret meetings’ weren’t so secret with Yagi shouting everything. Fortunately, he was able to lead any perked ears away from their conversations. He was pretty sure Midoriya was the next user (but he wasn’t supposed to let Yagi know he knew that). Before the pair had started at the school, Principle Nezu had informed Shouta of Yagi’s condition. He didn’t tell Shouta anything about the boy though, so it was either Nezu himself didn’t know or it had yet to happen. 

Shouta was pretty sure some of Midoriya’s classmates had also noticed the connection, Bakugo and Todoroki being the main ones. Todoroki fortunately interrupted it as Yagi being Midoriya’s father, which was its own can of worms, but easy to sort out. Bakugo on the other hand seems to suspect the actual connection between the two. He was a smart kid, way smarter than people gave him credit for (Shouta just wished he used those brain cells to read a self-help book). He has recommended therapy or counseling to his parents before, but his mom seemed offended that Shouta brought anything up in the first place. Shouta would just have to help guide him like he has been doing. 

He walked past one of the teachers' offices and a familiar face caught his eye. It was Nemuri. She was hunched over a stack of papers, probably old assignments from students that she forgot to grade. Today was one of the last days before the students returned and would be expecting those grades. She wasn’t the best at balancing hero work with being a teacher, but the students loved her. She scowled at the pile through her glasses. 

Shouta walked faster, but he was too late. A pair of arms pulled around him from the back and wouldn’t let go. 

“Shouta!!!!” She squeezed tighter around him and wiggled. Shouta grabbed her arms in an awkward hug and patted them. She let go after a moment and Shouta turned to face her. “How’ve you been? You haven’t been answering any of my texts, I mean, you usually don’t but you at least text back one word after a few days.” she teased. 

Nemuri had always been a lifeline to Shouta. She pulled him out of the darkness more times than he could count. Early in Shouta’s hero career, he failed to save someone for the first time. He locked himself in his room and kept going over what happened, trying to find some way he could have saved them. He also kept thinking of Oboro, which only made things worse. He had stopped eating and not even Hizashi could pull him out of it. One day, Nemuri kicked down the door and dragged him out by his scarf. She, with the help of Hizashi, washed him up and untangled his hair. Shouta just broke down crying in the shower, wet and covered in suds. She just held him as he cried like a child. After he got washed up, she got him his favorite food and they all just sat in comfortable silence. She also convinced him to start therapy and even recommended someone. Shouta could safely say he might not be here without it. 

“I’ve been doing patrols, as usual,” he responded simply. Nemuri laughed and elbowed him in the ribs.

“Oh come on! I’ve heard you’ve been training that kid from class 1-C, What was his name?” she put her finger on her chin in a dramatic pose.

“Shinso Hitoshi” Shouta walked into the office to find the coffee pot and she followed after him.

“Ah that’s right! He was the one who had the mind control quirk right? He lost to Midoriya in the 3rd round.” 

“Brainwashing actually, and yes. He has a lot of potential and I think he would fit in 1-A, plus we have the same for it,” Shouta still has no idea how that one kid got into UA in the first place. Shouta expelled him the first day when he tried to peek into the girl’s locker room. That behavior was not appropriate for a hero and if he did manage to succeed, he would use his power to control women, and Shouta didn’t want that on his conscience. “I just have to find the right time to introduce him. The sooner the better before the gap is too wide, I can only do so much on our one on one time. I thought after the internships would be a good place, but then the testing got rescheduled and I don’t want to throw him into the deep end on his first day…” Shouta was thinking aloud to himself. This is a topic that has been cycling through his head for several days.

“That and I hear that your classroom is gonna get a major change soon” she winked. Of course she knew. When Shouta didn’t answer her, she continued, “Does it have something to do with your secret project with Principle Nezu?” Shouta signed. 

He grabbed one of the cups by the coffee machine and poured some in. It was a green liquid and it smelled sweet. He looked over at Nemuri and she shrugged. 

“I drink tea over coffee, you know this.” Shouta groaned and handed her the cup. “How generous, thank you” and she took a sip. 

“I have to go talk to Principle Nezu…” He mumbled and stalked out of the office.

“Make sure to keep me updated on your class! ‘Zashi can only tell me so much!” She called after him.

Zzz

Without any more distractions keeping him, Shouta finally made it to Principle Nezu’s office. Nezu sat at his desk with his signature smile and his hands folded on the table. He was stock still, like a stuffed animal, but Shouta had gotten used to how the Principle acts to pay it much mind.

“Ah, good morning, Mr. Aizawa.” He greeted.

“Good morning, Principle Nezu” Shouta didn’t sit down, instead making his way to the coffee machine by the wall. There was a fresh cup waiting for him. He took it and eyed Nezu, who still smiled, then he sat down in front of him. “Sorry it took so long, I got distracted on the way here.” 

“No worries at all. I never said a time to meet, just simply that I’ll be in my office.” Empty words. They both know the sooner the better for this kind of thing.

Shouta took a sip and gagged, decaf. It was still better than nothing. He took a seat across from Nezu and placed the coffee on the table and reached into his pocket, grabbing the manilla folder and the small baggie with the dirt he collected from the scene. Nezu took them both gently with his stubby arms.

“Detective Tsukauchi has already delivered me the folder, but this,” He held up the bag, “I had no clue of.” Shouta took a sip of his coffee, too ashamed to have kept the info from him, even if it slipped his mind. 

“I collected it from the scene. It was in a dent away from the fight. It looked fresh. According to the report, Phantom was hovering over it before they attacked him.” Shouta’s fist clenched at the reminder. He wished he had found the boy first. 

“And the bag itself?” Principle Nezu asked.

“I didn’t have anything else on me.”

“Very well. I shall run it through our lab to see what comes up. I can follow your line of logic in thinking that this could’ve had possible significance to Phantom, but it’s best to remain critical.” Shouta nodded.  

“Of course. Now to move on to the other matter…” Principle Nezu’s back straighten even more, if that were possible, “After I completed my patrols for the night, “Nezu didn’t correct him that it was now morning, “I went to my usual coffee place where I saw a teen who looked a lot like the description of the boy from page 45, the one who ran into the heroes before the altercation.” 

Nezu Hummed, “So you think this boy is Phantom?” It was rhetorical but Shouta still answered.

“I do. The way he moved and acted was also suspicious. It was clear that his clumsiness was intentional, and during an altercation between a customer-”

“He fought a customer?” Nezu questioned, his eyebrow quirked. 

“No, I fought a customer.” Shouta stated. “He was being rude to Tommy, the name of the barista and suspect, and then splashed coffee on his face, at which point I intervened.”

“You seem more tired than usual, Mr. Aizawa”

“I wasn’t able to enjoy any coffee.” He took another drink of the miserable cup in front of him. 

“Of course, whatever it takes to get you through the day,” Nezu teased. He had also tried to convince Shouta to stop drinking coffee so much. “Can you tell me anything about the interaction between you and ‘Tommy’” 

“Our conversation at the start was quick, just me ordering a coffee,” Shouta thought for a moment, “although it was strange, he didn’t charge me for the cup.”

“Perhaps he recognized you? Or maybe he already feels a connection with you.” Nezu let out a small laugh.

“Doubtful. If he was truly raised by All For One, I would imagine him to be more disdainful or at least distrustful of heroes, especially after what happened last night. Although perhaps he also looks up to the heroes because of his father. He is a vigilante after all.” Shouta hasn’t had the time to think too deeply about what that could mean, but the more he did, the less he liked.

“Who knows,” Nezu definitely knew something and was hiding it. He would tell Shouta if it became important enough. 

“I digress, shortly after I sat down the customer started harassing Phantom. At first it was just yelling and general insults, but I stepped in when it got physical. I dragged him outside and kicked him out.” Nezu nodded, “However, after the man spilled his coffee on Tommy, I noticed the boy’s eyes glow green, not unlike what it detailed in the reports with Phantom. That’s when I was convinced they were one in the same. Of course, there is always the possibility that the two are separate, but I do not think this is the case.”

“I would have come to the same conclusion myself.” Nezu agreed. 

“After the altercation, Phantom handed me my coffee and thanked me. He seemed awkward about the exchange, though. I left shortly after and came here.”

“Thank you for your report, Mr. Aizawa. I hope I’m not asking you too much if you could write this all out for me with any other details you can remember. Even the most minor thing could be important.”

“Consider it done.” Sensing the meeting was over, Shouta stood up to leave. “I just have one question Principle Nezu.” 

“And what's that?” His eyes gleamed.

“How many quirks does Phantom have?” The Nomu’s were no longer human after just 3, and this kid has displayed far more than that. They could be on a timer to save the boy before he was lost forever in himself. 

“I do not know.” Nezu stated. Ice spread through Shouta and a weight settled in his gut. Even the principle doesn’t know? Shouta’s hands clenched into fists again. As much as he wanted to save the kid, he had to remember he was an unknown. He couldn’t let his emotions get in the way with that.

“You should probably get some rest, Mr. Aizawa. We both have a long few days ahead of us.” and with that, the meeting was officially over.

Shouta slowly walked out of the room trying to process the whole conversation. The Principle had clear faith that Phantom would indeed join UA, and so Shouta just had to trust him until proven otherwise. He hoped to whatever god that becomes a reality, for both Phantom’s and his sake. Until then, he would do his best to build his trust and extend a hand to the boy. It was his choice whether he would take it or not. 

One thing was for certain, he would try to save the boy until he begged him to stop, even then he might push.

When Shouta got home, the house was empty. Hizashi was still at the studio for the morning radio. He was kind of relieved he was gone. He wasn’t ready to talk about the day he had yet. Still so many unorganized thoughts in his head. He collapsed onto the bed, not bothering to change his clothes or taking off his shoes; it was laundry day tomorrow after all, or was it today? Time had lost all meaning to Shouta a long time ago. He closed his eyes and thought about Phantom again. He will save him, even if he loses an arm in the process.

He closed his eyes and thought about Phantom again. He will save him, even if he loses an arm in the process. 

“Damn it” he cursed into the still air.

He got attached.

[talltalesandbedtimestories]

Past Due (Dean/OFC)

Title: Past Due

Rating: Mature

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Original Female Character

Pairing: Dean x OFC

Summary: Dean Winchester has an effect on an older woman he's known for years. Kansas, Men of Letters Bunker Setting. Set around Season 15 with some canon-divergent plotting. 

Tags: Fluff, Flirting, Explicit Language, Smut, Angst, POV First Person, POV Female Character, Librarians, Friends to Lovers, Protective Dean Winchester, The Winchesters Are On A Case, The Boys Deserved A Better Ending

Chapters 1 to 3 Word Count: ~ 5K   

Notes: Posted on AO3 10/2/20; Completed 7/16/21. 

Chapter 1

Am I being checked out while checking him out? 

I scan the barcode on the back cover. His eyes are trained on my face with a little more interest than usual.

Do I have some spinach between my teeth from the salad I had for lunch? God, why does he have to do that thing with his tongue?

I readjust the glasses on the bridge of my nose and make some quiet small talk with the gorgeousness in front of me. I do most of the talking and he does most of the nodding.

No. Dean Winchester is not checking me out. He’s just existing and breathing and short circuiting my brain as he tends to do on occasion with his proximity. 

I will not fuss with my hair like I always do when he’s close enough for me to smell him. Oh, Goddammit.

I feel like a sixteen year old around this man. Every damn time. It’s not fair. It happened the first time I met him six years ago. He’d handed over the paperwork and I processed his library card application. He smiled that lopsided grin that says, You poor unsuspecting creature. I’m so handsome I don’t even have to make much of an effort . 

That was the day he and his mountain man of a brother, Sam, walked into the Smith Center Library. Back when they had used Campbell as their last names on the application. And before they had helped with a haunting that blew their aliases. At least with me. It was a “job” for them that involved my brother five towns over. The house he had bought for a song at a sheriff sale, turned out, came with a supernatural squatter. 

“No shit it was cheap. Because someone was murdered in it. No offense, but your brother was pretty much asking for trouble knowing that going in.” I still remember Dean’s very accurate logic when they’d gotten the full history. 

I shouldn’t feel like a sixteen year old - when I’m 46, speeding toward 47 in a couple months - with a man five years my junior. Even if it is Dean Winchester.

He reminds me of my second husband, Lou. Full of sass, rounded out with some grump, and a sprinkle of edge. He drinks like Lou did. I only know that because I’d bought Dean and Sam a round of drinks one night a few years back. It was a thank you after they’d burned the remains of the poor soul that was stuck in what they called a death echo in my younger brother’s house. Top shelf scotch is Dean’s preferred drink of choice when someone else is buying, by the way. And he has a high tolerance for alcohol that one only gets after decades of experience. Like my second husband, Lou.

He drives a vintage muscle car like Lou did, too. You can hear it ten seconds before it turns onto West Court Street and pulls up to park in front of the library. That engine sound always gets my fellow co-workers on high alert and wide eyed, just like me. It’s a disappointment to all of us when it’s not Dean.

He flirts with every female between the ages of eighteen and eighty that crosses his path. Again, like Lou. It’s his default setting. He seems to prefer a tight skirt from what I’ve gathered through my research. But he rarely slights and denies the opposite sex his charms or thorough assessment if they decide to don pants or shorts.

My brain finally registers the title of the book he’s checked out on the computer screen. The attraction fog has lifted for a brief second. I turn the tome over on the counter and read the title aloud. “Fairies and Wood Nymphs? Do I want to ask?”

He shakes his head. I twist my fingers near my mouth to indicate my lips are sealed. Then he flashed me that weird look again. Almost like he’s processing some data. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t been in here for over a month and I’m paying every flinch and twitch even more attention than usual. I realize in real time I’m cataloguing all of these In case I don’t see him for another month. Or, God forbid, two months. “You really are, aren’t you, Winter?” He finally pipes up with a question, using my surname as usual. The smile returns to his face.

“What’s that, Mr. Campbell?” I respond with a way too giddy smile and slide the book back to him. My coworkers are probably snickering at me behind the periodicals as they watch the show. Sure, like they wouldn’t be putty in this man’s hands, either. Even Ronald turns into mush around Dean.

He bends and leans back a bit to rest those thick forearms on the counter. Plaid clad shoulders, green eyes, freckled skin, and pouty lips are now at eye level with my five foot four frame. “Good at keeping a secret.” He mumbles and lowers his voice more with every syllable.

That voice triggers the floodgates down below.

What the hell is going on right now? “Friends don’t call me ‘The Vault’ for nothin’.” I somehow get the sentence out. Being this close reminds me of the night at the bar. When the scotch had worked its magic at the Mexican restaurant. The neon green cactus aesthetic and terra cotta motif had lulled Dean into some sort of sarape security blanket. He’d divulged a lot after Sam, downing only one drink, had left in the Impala with the promise to pick up his brother in a couple of hours. By the end of the night, Dean said I was a good listener and not quick to judge. That I had a nice calming presence. That I’d must have seen some heavy shit in my lifetime, too. 

“Can I ask you something?” His brows raise.

My mouth has dried up so I can only nod in response.

He cocks his head to the library entrance. “Do you have a minute to talk outside?”

I nod again. I may not be the boss, but my seniority and elder status give me a little leeway.

He rises up, taps the counter and grabs the book. “I’ll be waitin’ in the car.” I get a full smile this time and almost pass out.

I push the front door of the library and spill out on the sidewalk a couple minutes later. His black beauty of a car is still there, waiting. The nippy Fall temperature is enough for me to wrap my cardigan tight around my middle. Dean is in the driver’s seat, windows open, with Lynyrd Skynyrd playing on the radio.

He has an eager and appreciative look on his face when he exits the vehicle and walks toward the hood to meet me. “Thanks.”

I shrug. “What did you want to ask me?” I wrap some stray, windswept strands back behind my ear.

“Sam and I, we could use some help at the bunker.”

I can’t help but gasp at the word. Bunker. This legendary place I’ve gotten sparse, verbal descriptions of here and there over the years. Their home base. Sam has boasted of its library to me.

“Well, mainly Sam could use some help. Because I’m useless when it comes to the library. And, he also doesn’t trust me when it comes to the books.”

Library. I’m able to stifle another gasp. I stand in silence, waiting for more.

He sighs. “Let’s just say we had an accident. A lot of the books got damaged, flew off shelves into a massive paper mountain.”

My head nods in a fury. “Yes, I’d love to help.”

He chuckles at my eagerness. “Great.” He hands me a note, like we’re in high school. “Meet me at this intersection and I’ll show you the rest of the way there?”

“When?”

“Whatever's good for you.”

I realize how non existent my social life is lately and offer, “Friday night?”

He nods. Another grin. “Eight?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“It’s a date.” He winks.

Lou NEVER winked.

Chapter 2

I left my cottage in Smith Center that Friday after the sun had set. It was a twenty minute drive before I came upon Dean at the crossroads, waiting for me with a grin and a goal when my headlights spotted him. I followed Dean’s Impala in my Wrangler down the long, winding prairie road eventually overtaken by trees for another ten minutes. The radio kept me company in the dark. The wooded area closed in on each side as I drove behind the Impala’s wake. 

A clearing amid the trees to the right gets my attention. I peer up and gasp, braking in time to avoid a mild fender bender after Dean’s abrupt stop. 

The bunker looks like a massive detention center or secret government facility built into a rather large hill. It’s intimidating in its grey, drab, and impenetrable appearance. Illumination from the moon and stars in the Kansas sky provide a perfect backdrop. I can see the outline of the sharp roofline structure high above the tree canopies.

What the hell am I getting into? These brothers have provided the occasional glimpse into their lives with the weird research requests over the past few years. I should feel scared or worried. But, the quick pace of my heartbeat has more to do with the excitement of peeking at what’s behind the curtain. And, finally seeing the place Sam and Dean Winchester call home in Lebanon, Kansas.

The squeak of Dean’s driver side door as it opens and he plants boots on the gravel makes the blood pound in my ears. He eases, almost pours out. The door cinches shut with a creak. My headlights spotlight him again. He strolls over on those bow legs. I kill the engine. He leans against my open window, staring down, a hand and forearm reclining on the rooftop. “Still okay with this, Winter?”

I smile. He’s such a perfect mix of rugged and that kind of handsome they don’t make anymore. He reminds me of Paul Newman, Robert Redford, John Wayne or Clint Eastwood in their heyday. But, then he’ll shine some cheekiness that gives me the vibe of a Frank Sinatra or Dean Martin hosting a variety hour from the 60s. I stare at those lips a little longer than I should. Again. “Yep. This is already the most eventful Friday night I’ve had in forever.”

He taps the roof. “Alright, then.”

The temperature has dropped and I’m glad I wore a heavy jacket. The gravel crunches underfoot and Dean has enough courtesy and manners to lead the way in the dark with a flashlight.

“Got a few concrete steps here. Careful on the way down.”

I chuckle. “So nice of you to look out for your elder.”

He waves the flashlight in my direction, but low to my chest so it’s not directly in my eyes. “You do that a lot, you know.”

I stop in my tracks. “What?”

“Point out that you’re older than me.”

“Do I?”

“Mh-hm.” The flashlight rotates back around in his hand so we can continue the trek. He waits until we are both at the threshold of a large door. It looks like a bank vault. The click of a key in a lock is heard when he adds, “Why do you do that?”

I shrug in the shadows.

The door gives to Dean’s pull and sounds like he’s breaking some type of hermetic seal. In moments we are atop a stairwell. The door slams behind us and makes me jump. My eyes widen at the view below, something out of a 40s war room. Dean’s already halfway down the iron staircase before my feet are able to move. I track and inventory the vintage communication devices, the art deco architecture, the solid build of this secret place with brick and stone and marble. A huge table in the middle of the room has a world map lit up from below as its surface. Dean drops his backpack on the table without a second glance. “Sam!” He yells.

He walks to a large open entryway into another room with a step up. I glimpse the row of tables and shelves. And the books. The books scattered everywhere. The smell of leather and musky paper fills the air. I inhale deep and get that little whiff of smoke and vanilla that I love.

“I’d invite you to make yourself at home, but that’s not really possible at the moment.” He motions for me to follow. Dean shucks off his jacket and hangs it on the back of one of the chairs. I’m attracted to a nook in the beautiful hall filled with clutter. I drape my jacket on a wingback chair and pick up a hardbound book on one of the stacks. There are dozens of these book pillars piled in various heights, some reaching to my shoulders. “Where the hell is he?” Dean asks no one in particular.

I notice a Samurai sword on display to my left when Sam’s free floating voice calls out. “Be there in a minute, Dean!”

Dean sighs and slinks through the maze of books. He lands on my right and stares down at me. “Are you hungry? We’ve got a stocked kitchen for once. Sandwich? Snack? Beer?”

I shake my head, too busy splitting my gaze between his expectant green eyes and the volume in my hands. “Is this an actual first edition of Grimm’s Fairy Tales?”

Dean opens his mouth but Sam answers, peeking over the Samurai sword on the bookshelf. “Yep. From 1909. Thanks for coming to help out.” He smiles.

“This is… wow.” I’m speechless.

“Well, I’m hungry.” Dean pipes in. “I’ll be back in a bit.” He darts and bounds up another small set of stairs leading out of the library.

“Remember,” Sam begins.

Dean halts in the other doorway. “I’m not bringing any food in here. I got it, Sam, nothing that might mess up your precious. You're worse than that goblin thing in Lord of the Rings.”

“Gollum was a hobbit.” I correct him.

“Stoor hobbit, actually.” Sam nods in agreement.

Dean purses his lips and raises both hands, then slams them in mock defeat against his thighs. “Thanks for clarifying. Looks like we found the best person to help.” He shakes his head and gives me a tiny smile before disappearing.

My heart beat skips at that smile.

*

Sam and I spend a good fifteen minutes deciding on a strategy to divide and conquer. He’s as giddy as I am to get these things back in their proper spots. The Dewey Decimal system makes the overwhelming task a bit easier. He really only needed another pair of hands and a bookish mindset. I’ll take one side of the library, Sam the other. He’s pulled out a pencil sketch of the shelves and their categories, as best as he can recollect.

“Dean got this glazed look when I asked him to help organize after we got them piled up and out of the middle of the room.”

I thumb through the index cards in the catalogue to get my bearings and hope to find homes for a couple books to start. Anything that doesn’t go on my side that I come across, I’ll leave for Sam on the table closest to the war room. He’ll place anything for me on the other table. “An actual explosion?”

Sam nods. “It was like an earthquake. Shook everything. And, then, there were the…” He clamps his lips tight and runs his fingers through his long hair. “Too much information for your first night. I want you to come back and help.”

I narrow my eyes. “I was already crazy enough to come. It would have to be pretty terrifying for me not to return.”

He shrugs and only repeats, “I want you to come back.”

We talk. He’s hesitant to indulge me with certain facts. But when I ask if Dean has any culinary skills to speak of, he’s almost an open book. Burgers and charring meat appear to be Dean’s specialty. I smile, feeling the tap and tug of my heart, thinking about how good my first husband, Rick, was with a grill and a smoker. I ask about Jack. Sam tells me that he’s staying with Cas for a while. 

One afternoon, a couple years back, Dean and I stood huddled by a monitor in the technology area. He was dressed in a sharp blue suit and wore a cologne that filled my nose with citrus and cedar. To this day, I’m not sure how I managed to remain upright.

He was in need of some topographic maps of Lebanon. I didn’t ask why and he seemed grateful. I asked about Jack, since he was fresh in my mind from a recent visit. Dean steeled his jaw before confessing he and Sam were having difficulty with their new charge. I learned they had saved Jack from a dangerous situation. I assumed it was something supernatural. His mom had passed when he was born and their friend, Cas, had taken the boy under his wing not long after that. Now that friend was in need of more assistance with Jack. There was more to the story, but I didn’t press.

I knew why he mentioned Jack’s mom. He knew about my first husband. It had been one of my confessions over those drinks years back. Rick had been my high school sweetheart. We’d married halfway through university at KWU in Salina. I got my bachelors. Rick had turned his volunteer firefighter position into a career, dropped out after two years at university, and kept telling me he was going to go back to school after. After was Rick’s favorite word.

We moved back to Smith Center after school. I got a job at the library soon after that. Our son Ricky came along a year later. Rick had promised a five year old Ricky at the dinner table they would go to the neighbor’s farm over the weekend. He’d get his first pony ride. After his 24-hour shift at the firehouse.

Rick never came home after that shift.

Chapter 3

I shake myself from the memory. I’m not sure how long it is before I turn around to grab from a new stack and find Dean standing right there. My nose brushes against his shirt. I avoid slamming the rest of me into him. 

I smell the fresh clean showered scent of him. He’s sporting loungewear like a male supermodel. The spiky damp hair is doing weird things to my insides. I want to run my fingers through them like I’m sprinting through a field of wheat. And, then I want to tug on those strands while he…

“Is Sam taking advantage of you?” He smirks, chin to his chest, looking down at me. “Free labor and all. Sure you aren’t hungry?”

“No, I’m good, thanks. Getting in the zone.”

He nods into his chest. “Well, if you plan on it being an all-nighter, we’ve got plenty of space for you to crash.”

“Dean…” Sam side eyes and scolds him with a slight shake of his head.

I realize how curious I am to explore more of this amazing place. I also realize how much being this close to Dean makes me wish he’d never be more than an arm’s length away. See? Sixteen year old. My twenty-three year old son would be mortified at his mother’s behavior right now. Thank God he’s on his own and away at school, working on his Master’s in Library Science. He would love this book collection, though. “I could use directions to a bathroom.”

Dean smiles. “Sure. Follow me.”

I nod to Sam. His gives me a hesitant smile.

Dean leads out the library in slippers that remind me of something my father would wear. I stare at the heels of his bare feet peeking out from the slippers when he steps up. For a second I get an image of the two of us on the couch watching television. His long and solid frame spread out across all the cushions. I’m seated at one end with his calves propped up on my lap, massaging his tired and sore feet. “Coming, Winter?” Dean’s voice calls out. He’s turned to wait, a quizzical stare at me. Shit, how long have I been daydreaming?

I join him. He’s along my left down the marble and stone corridors. They contain a plethora of doors and intersections that turn my sense of direction on its head. The halls feel cold, antiseptic, even though the design and style is meticulous and elegant.

Dean rubs the back of his neck. “You probably have a dozen more questions now.”

“Try a hundred. It’s just the two of you in this huge place?”

“Well, sometimes Jack. And, Cas.”

“Do you have a cleaning service come in or something?” I run a finger along the marble wall as I pass. I tilt my head in approval at the lack of dirt.

He chuckles. “We’ve got a really great filtration system. Just have the usual upkeep with the common areas and our rooms.”

“I need to get me one of those.”

“Or live in a secret lair with no windows.”

“Hm, that’s true, you don’t have any. You really could not know what’s going on outside while you’re in here.”

“It’s a hermit’s fantasy. Like that hobbit.” He grins and stops at a door. “It’s the bathroom slash showers. Don’t get lost in there. Or on your way back. Make a right out the door, left at the dead end.” He points down the hall with two fingers like a cop directing traffic. “Pass two cross streets, then make a right onto the next one. You’ll see the library entrance on your left. Eventually.”

I frown. “If I get lost?”

“Just call me, Winter.”

*

My flats shuffle down the hall. I make my way back to the library and feel like I’m at work. I shift into my quiet and unobtrusive mood. Unseen unless needed or called upon.

Dean’s instructions were clear and easy to follow. The slight panic at being in an unknown maze subsides when I hear their voices. I turn down the hall. The warm amber light from the library spills into the corridor yards away.

Their voices travel toward me. The acoustics are quite good in this place. I can tell they are trying to keep their voices low.

“You should ease up.” Sam sounds irritated.

“What?”

“Not every woman needs to be a conquest, Dean.”

“Shut it. I-I don’t think about Winter like-.” Dean stutters. “I’d never think of her as a conquest.”

And that. That’s what makes my heart drop into my stomach. Of course he doesn’t think of me that way.

Sam sighs. “I can really use her help. And, she’s always been nothing but nice to us.”

Dean sighs back. “I know that.”

I take a deep breath, beat myself over the head with reality. Cough for good measure so they know I’m coming. When I turn the corner, Sam is busy in his section and Dean is between the tables, ringing his hands, and smiling at me.

He’s been sweet because, why, felt bad for me? Placating me, maybe? He just knows he’s got that effect on women?

“Great at directions, Sam. Told ya.” Dean claps his hands. “I’ve been told enough space has been cleared and that snacks may be brought in.” He raises a finger in the air for emphasis. “I’ll be back.” A quick turn and dash around the corner of a table has him disappearing through the war room.

When I step in to assume my spot I catch his figure heading through a doorway by the stairwell entrance. I resume the work. Quiet and unobtrusive.

“Everything alright?” Sam notices the change.

“Yep.” I flash a smile full of teeth. “This is an amazing collection.” I pretend to rifle through the pages of one book with interest before placing it on a shelf.

“Did Dean… say something… to make you uncomfortable?” Sam strolls closer and leans on the table to sit. I think it’s an attempt to shorten our height differential. “He can get a little carried away.”

I fidget with the frames of my glasses. “No. I’m used to it. He’s like that with every woman, right?” I grab two books and study the spines.

Sam shrugs. “Kind of.” From my peripheral view, I can see him lean down farther and try to make eye contact. Or get a read on me. “I mean, it’s not like you’d be interested, right?” 

This weird sound comes out of my mouth that resembles a laugh being choked out of my windpipe. When I look up Sam has a deer in the headlights expression. The wrinkles on his forehead have multiplied.

He chuckles and blinks. “Right.” Fingers tap on the table surface and he’s back to work on his side.

*

I spend another hour and a half with the brothers in the library. Dean brought a variety of things to munch on. My heart feels a little heavy at my assumption about his interest. The fantasy couldn’t last forever in my head. But I try to enjoy Sam and Dean’s company and take everything at face value. They are nice guys, after all. I’m sure there wasn’t any intentional misleading on the part of my emotions.

I crunch my last carrot stick and slide another book home. “Alright, gentlemen. I do know how to party it up on a Friday night. But it’s close to 10:30. I should get myself home.”

Dean squints. “If it’s too late for a drive back…”

I raise a hand in protest. “They haven’t taken my driver’s license away from me yet due to old age. I’ll be fine.”

Dean’s half-hearted smile disappears. He stuffs a few potato chips in his mouth as he gets up. “Let me put on some shoes.”

“What for?”

He lifts both hands up. “Want to make sure you get home safe. I’ll follow you back.”

My mouth opens. There’s a thrill that I’m quick to squash down. “I might not want you to know where I live.” I interject without thinking.

His eyes widen and then he smiles. “It’s cute that you think we don’t already know where you live.”

My head whips to Sam. He shrugs. “Part of the job. We vet everyone who gets let into our little circle of chaos.”

“Be right back.” Dean confirms there’s no way I’m getting out of an escort home.

Sam is ever so grateful for the assistance tonight. He wraps me up in a huge friendly hug that’s warm and comforting. He thinks he can manage the rest of it on his own. But he offers to have me come back soon, inspect and approve what he’s done. The library is always open for me to visit in case I want to do some actual reading.

Dean returns a few minutes later, fully dressed again. The man is quick and ready for action at a moment’s notice. Could have been a firefighter.

I’m quiet on the way out. I follow him down to our cars. He provides the lead and lights my way to the Wrangler. He clicks the driver’s side door closed once I’m in and suggests a three point turn to head back the road we came in on. He offers to lead in the Impala. I decline, sure in my navigational skills.

I keep checking my rear view mirror on the drive back. I see the silhouette of the assured, confident Winchester. I’m positive that man has broken many hearts. But, probably provided some amazing memories for some lucky women. I’m also positive he’d be a hard act to follow for anyone that came after him. I’m not sure I could handle either of those scenarios at this point. 

And how lucky could one woman get anyway in a lifetime? I think back to Rick and the memories that have a grainy film overlay to them now. How special those years were. How misguided and unfair I was to Lou, constantly comparing him to the man I lost. Knowing that my expectations and a multitude of sins on his part led to our divorce five years back. 

It’s better like this: to admire Dean Winchester from afar with the occasional heart palpitations.

I pull into my short drive. I’m self conscious about the loud rumble of the Impala’s engine as Dean rolls past me to stop in front of my house. My neighbors are scattered here and there along the prairie road. No one is on top of each other. But it’s usually quiet this time of night. Jody or Harry will be peeking because of the noise. A second later my prediction is confirmed. I stare off to the right through my passenger window to see a light snap on in the Wilson’s kitchen window.

I hop out of the Wrangler, ready to walk over to Dean’s driver side and thank him for seeing me home. Dean cuts off the engine and emerges with an energetic self propulsion. I stall in my tracks. Even in the dark I blush at those eyes that I know are trained on me. Goddammit.

“Thanks.” I squeak out and clear my throat.

“No problem. Wanted to make sure you got home safe.” I hear his hands slide into his jean pockets. He’s closer now. My eyes have adjusted to the dark. His tongue peeks out and brushes that full bottom lip. It glistens in the moonlight. He cocks his head to my porch. “Alright if I watch you get inside?” He raises a hand. “Not me being stalky. Just cautious.”

I narrow my eyes. “Do you have a target on your back or something?” A shiver runs down my spine. I’m not sure if it’s due to fear or standing for too long in the chilly October night.

He grins. “Not at the moment.” My mouth opens up at the cavalier response. He turns serious, maybe because of the look I gave him. “We didn’t want to tell you, didn’t want to worry you…”

“That’s a great way to start things off.” I frown and cross my arms.

“You should get inside, Winter. Gettin’ cold.”

“You can’t do that to me. Leave me hanging like that.” I hear a familiar screen door screech open on hinges that need greasing.

He sighs and nods past my shoulder to something behind me. “I don’t want to explain out here. We’ve got an audience.”

I turn around, past my Jeep and the drive to see Harry in his sweatpants and a t-shirt. He’s leaning against a pillar under the floodlight of his porch. A sharp nod in my direction. Jody’s voice travels in the night air, asking her husband what’s going on over at my house.  I sigh and give the neighbor a wave. “Well, we’ve given them something to talk about.” I mumble. “Might as well come inside for a minute so I get all the facts.”

[planet4546b]

Book asks: 3, 16, 20

3. What were your top five books of the year?

(in no particular order!!)

The Sparrow, Mary Doria Russell. instlantly entered maybe my top 10 books of all time. absolutely phenomenal book. i dont even know what to say about it

The Fifth Season, N.K. Jemisin. this series ABSOLUTELY lives up to the fucking hype, i adore it. obelisk gate was also phenomenal, im just counting it as part of the series (still have stone sky on my shelf but havent gotten to it yet)

House of Leaves, Mark Z. Danielewski. a book that seemed designed for me specifically to go bonkers about it, i could talk about it for hours and hours

Underland, Robert Mcfarlane. Macfarlane's style occassionally isn't my favorite (a bit too prose-y for nonfiction for my taste) but i appreciate a book about underground spaces by someone who clearly understands their weight and also their beauty

World War Z, Max Brooks. this one was unexpected! but it's a fascinating way to tell a story about zombies, and brooks does a really good job of actually imagining what this world would look like. i find myself thinking of a few chapters all the time

16. What is the most over-hyped book you read this year?

unfortunately Ancillary Justice, Ann Leckie. it's a book that i very much wanted to like but found myself unable to meet on it's terms and sort of walked away feeling unsatisfied. never been able to articulate exactly why!

20. What was your most anticipated release? Did it meet your expectations?

im not watching too many releases, i think the most recent murderbot book was the only one i was particularly looking forward to!! its sitting on my shelf but i haven't read it yet so i cant judge if it meets expectations yet