#unless your dream all along was to start an electrical fire

[thecandidofdoriangray]

It’s truly astounding the amount of people who decide to open a coffee shop with 0 coffee knowledge or experience and refuse to listen to the guidance or advice of anybody with experience. Trying to think of any other industry outside of food/bev or retail in which this is commonplace

[nightshade-minho]

-The Ritual-

-Incubus!Minho + BestFriend!Jeongin x fem!Reader-

Warnings: themes of jealousy, occults and demons, unprotected sex, minho has a huge cock, face fucking, sir kink, cunnilingus, 69, anal penetration, creampie, a little cumplay, a little overstimulation, a lil finger blood for ze ritual~ etc.

Word Count: 5.2k (I got a little carried away...this is the smuttiest thing I’ve written in a while hhhhhh-)

Disclaimer: This scene is entirely consensual. Minho’s powers do have the ability to make you incredibly aroused, but it can’t force you to do anything against your wishes. 

"Have you got everything?" You whispered, making the boy next to you jump in shock.

"Y/n! For God's sake, you scared the fuck out of me-"

"Yeah, yeah." You rolled your eyes at Jeongin, who went back to perusing the library shelf with a small huff. 

"Did you get everything?" You repeated insistently, following as Jeongin moved away from you, walking over to another shelf. He glared at you, sighing.

"Did you-"

"Shut up!" He scowled, looking away from you to grab another book from the shelf. 

A few seconds of prolonged silence passed as Jeongin turned to look at you, sighing when he saw your bottom lip quivering.

"I'm sorry." You mumbled.

"Y/n- no, it's okay. Next time, don't sneak up on me like that..." he sighed. "I've just got so much work on my plate. It's so frustrating...and I took that frustration out on you. Sorry."

You pressed your lips together, nodding and looking away. He sighed, moving a little closer, hand hovering over your shoulder before hesitantly coming down.

"I'll come over at 10, okay? We'll do this." He said, trying to feign enthusiasm. You shoved his hand off your shoulder, shaking your head. 

"I know you're not as into this as I am. I just thought...as my best friend, you'd want to do something fun with me. But if you'd much rather spend the night with your nose buried in a textbook, I won't stop you."

Jeongin smiled, that wide smile of his that affected you in a way you couldn't quite describe.

"Summoning a demon in your college dorm at midnight isn't exactly what the average individual would call fun, Y/N."

"You've always known I'm not the average individual." You winked. "Right...I'm going to let you study now. See you tonight! Don't forget-"

"Candles, rose petals and wine. Got it."

You grinned, waving as you walked away, a slight bounce in your step. Jeongin watched as you left, fondly shaking his head as he turned back to the shelf.

***

As the doorbell rang, you jumped off your bed and rushed to the door, opening it with a wide smile. "Jeonginnieee!~ Did you bring snacks?"

He nodded, struggling with the amount of packages he was holding. "Yes, along with the things for the ritual- shit, can I have some help here?"

You giggled, grabbing the plastic bag and one of the packages from his hand. You stared at the wine bottle in his hand pointedly.

"One of my friends got this for me. Don't ask who. It's a super cheap brand and I think it's half drunk already but-"

"It'll do." You interrupted, smiling as you suddenly pulled him down and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Jeongin's grip on the bottle tightened as his brain filled with sparks- the contact of your lips against his skin sending electricity shooting through his chest.

"You're the best best friend I could ask for. Thank you for getting everything."

Jeongin nodded nonchalantly, scratching his neck as he set the bottle and another package on the counter.

"Hey, the ritual needs to take place at midnight. We have like, 2 hours till then. Wanna watch a movie or something?"

"Why else do you think I brought snacks?" He laughed, opening the plastic bag and throwing a large packet of chips to you, that you caught with ease. Grabbing two cans of soda and a bag of candy, the two of you made your way to the couch. 

"Let's watch a horror movie? To get us in the spirit?"

"Sure." Jeongin commented, ripping open the packet as he sat on the floor and leaned against the couch. You smiled, popping a CD into the DVD player and crawling back over to Jeongin, cuddling close to him.

Jeongin gulped as you wrapped your arms around him. Your proximity was making him sweat, and he discreetly wiped away a drop of perspiration from his forehead. Over the years, you'd think that he would get used to your touchiness...but he just never did.

Nearly an hour later, you fell asleep halfway through the movie. Jeongin sighed, patting your hair as you slept, watching the rest of the horrid movie by himself. When a particularly silly scene came on screen, he wished you were awake so he could criticize it with you. His eyes drifted to the clock, eyes widening as he realized the time.

He poked your shoulder insistently. "Fuck, Y/n, get up...the ritual needs to take place soon, and we haven't set everything up yet-"

You blinked slowly, looking at him in confusion. "Hmm? Oh-"

You pushed him away, jumping up to your feet. "Shit, let's get the things ready, quick-" 

He sighed, standing up slowly as you ran to the packages on the counter, unwrapping everything. He watched as you jumped around in your hurry, chuckling to himself. 

Man, she's really into this.

Jeongin thought about it for a few seconds, sighing as he decided to show a little more enthusiasm...after all, you were his best friend...you always listened so patiently whenever he talked about his interests. 

He made up his mind. He'd put a little more effort into-

"What are you standing there for? Help!!"

He smiled at you, shaking his head, moving closer and helping you take out the things you needed.

***

Jeongin sat on your bed, watching as you tweaked some final touches here and there.

The silk had been laid out on the floor, all the lights were off. The room was illuminated in a warm, ochre glow, thanks to the numerous candles that had been lit and placed everywhere in the room. 

You made sure the rose petals were scattered properly, pouring just a little more wine into the single glass in the middle of the pentagram you'd made with the red yarn you'd found on sale in the crafts shop. 

Sitting up, you rubbed your forehead as you went over to the windowsill, relighting one of the candles that had snuffed out.

"15 minutes." Jeongin reminded as you nodded. "Okay...we're ready."

You sat down in front of the pentagram, breathing heavily in anticipation. Jeongin watched from his perch on your bed...He knew nothing out of the ordinary was going to happen tonight...unless a candle knocked over and set fire to the whole building. However, as he watched you bite your bottom lip in worry, he almost hoped you wouldn't be disappointed...that something out of the blue would happen.

Oh, if only he knew.

"So...say we do manage to summon a demon. Exactly how would this benefit us?"

"Good question." You pointed to the big book in front of you. You'd bought the huge tome from an occults shop down the block...it had been expensive, and you'd gone a few days without breakfast...but it was worth it.

You read out the paragraph to Jeongin, and he nodded, chewing on his lip as he listened. When you were done, he sighed, moving onto the floor next to you. 

"So, basically...like a genie? The demon will give us 3 wishes?"

"Eh. Genies don't exist. Also...they're not exactly wishes, more like...favours? I think? He'll ask us to repay them at a later date."

Jeongin rolled his eyes. "And nothing sounds fishy about that? Nothing? I'm not sure I want to be indebted to a demon..."

"Eh, it'll be fine. We've got to start. Okay, everything's ready...now, it says that the person who conducts the ritual needs to mix in a drop of their blood with the wine, and then drink it."

Jeongin wrinkled his nose. "Eww. Y/n, come on..." 

"What? It says it right here in on the book. It's just a tiny drop of blood, Jeongin. No big deal." 

"Are you sure...?"

"Yep. Okay so after that, we just need to chant this phrase three times, blow out the innermost circle of candles and voila! Our very own demon, here to do our bidding."

"F-fine."

You smiled at him, glancing up at the clock on the wall and swearing under your breath. "Fuck, it's time...Okay, let's begin." 

You scrambled around with one hand, finding the pocket knife and hovering it over your fingertip. Biting your lip, you slowly sliced your skin open, letting a tiny drop of blood fall into the wine glass below. Jeongin quickly got up, grabbing a box of band-aids from the bedside table and handing it to you. You glared at him for interrupting you, but sighed and let him wrap your finger up anyway.

Wrenching your hand away once he was done, you glanced at the clock once again before lifting the glass to your lips.

The wine flowed down your throat, the taste bitter and potent. You coughed once as you set it down, your eyes going over to the paragraph.

"Recipienti pignori obligo animam meam, et non sunt daemonium...et quod summoneret eum cum sanguine." 

You repeated it thirteen times, and then glanced at the clock again. One more second...

12:00.

You blew out the candles quickly, the entire circle snuffed out before it became 12:01.

You sat back, panting as the plumes of smoke danced around in the air. A minute passed by, then two.

Nothing happened.

A small sigh left you. You turned to Jeongin. The boy gave you a sympathetic smile, pulling you into his side and patting your shoulder. "It's o-"

He was interrupted by someone clearing their throat. The two of you turned around so fast you almost got whiplash...but there was nothing. Just smoke.

Wait...a lot of smoke. You frowned slowly as the candles kept releasing more and more of it, until there was far too much. The curlicues of smoke twirled in the air, fogging your vision as it slowly started forming into a figure. 

A figure with horns.

You quickly buried your face into Jeongin's chest, your heart beating fast. No way. No way it actually worked. This had to be a dream...right?

The way Jeongin shivered slightly beneath you proved otherwise. No. It all felt too real.

You looked up slowly, swallowing. 

He was still there.

A man...he was clad in a suit, his tie loosened, sleeves rolled up and shirt unbuttoned all the way to his torso. His black hair was slicked back, exposing his forehead, and his nose was sharp...

Perhaps the most notable of it all were his eyes. They were almost catlike and shone with a crimson glow. 

Oh...that and the horns. Huge, blood-red horns that jutted out from his head.

His gaze was filled with scrutiny as he coolly stood there with his hands in his pockets, raising an eyebrow at the two of you, cowering on the floor.

"Did the pretty one here summon me?" He asked after a few minutes of silence, a small smirk on his face as his eyes roved over the silk and rose petals on the floor.

You gulped, pulling away from Jeongin a little more, but the boy didn't relax his grip on you. "Y-yes."

He nodded. "Thought so. I was actually extremely busy...but I could sense you were a cute one. I don't mind bending the rules a little for mortals like you." You noticed how he was only looking at you, completely ignoring Jeongin.

He looked around, going over to the armchair next to your bed and reclining on it, his stance reminiscent of a king's as he placed his chin on his hand, looking down at the two of you.

"Hmm, go on with it then. Why are you still fully clothed?" He asked, hand coming down over the straining bulge in his pants. 

Jeongin frowned, looking over at you in confusion that mirrored yours. What the fuck?

"I'm s-sorry? I thought...it doesn't mention that I have to be naked in the book here-"

He rolled his eyes, still palming himself. "Whatever. If you prefer being clothed, that's fine. Let's just get this over with, okay doll? Come here." 

"I'm c-confused-"

He tilted his head. "Why? You want your wishes granted, right?"

"Yeah-"

"Exactly. There are certain things I require as payment for those, you know." He meaningfully looked down at his bulge, and then back up at you again.

Your eyes slowly widened in outrage. "Wait...what the fuck??" Jeongin's mouth slowly opened in disbelief as you shook your head vehemently. "No. Nope. No way. I'm not going to let a demon fuck m-'

He shook his head, chuckling. "Darling, how else would an incubus such as myself grant your wish?"

"Pardon!?"

"We draw our powers from sexual energy-"

"I never-" You looked back at the book, scanning the paragraph over and over again. "I- it says nothing here about incubuses-"

"Incubi. And of course it doesn't. It's common knowledge that all wish-granting demons are incubi."

Jeongin shook his head, deciding he'd heard enough. He worked up his courage, trying to pretend like he wasn't intimidated by the actual demon that was in his best friend's bedroom.

"Look here, Sir- you can't just have sex with her. We must have missed the part where it said you were an...an incubus. Just go back where you came from."

The demon frowned slowly, his eyes finally landing on Jeongin. There was a questioning look in his eyes.

"Oh. I hadn't noticed the boy here." He sniffed the air, shaking his head. "His blood isn't involved in the ritual...must be why I couldn't see him properly till now." He mused, almost to himself as you looked at Jeongin, the two of you sharing a look filled with fear and bafflement. 

"It doesn't work that way, unfortunately, boy. I came here...and sadly, I cannot leave Earth until my purpose is satisfied and 3 boons are granted."

You shivered, wondering what the hell you had gotten into. The demon noticed your discomfort and sighed, inspecting his fingernails. 

"Look. I don't care if you have sex with me or not, although it wouldn't hurt to have my way with a pretty little kitten like you. All I need is sexual energy, so just fuck your friend here. I don't care."

It took a minute for the two of you to process what he had just said. He felt embarrassment fill him from head to toe as he buried his head in his hands, unable to look you in the eye.

However...you were starting to feel something quite different. The air was heavy and thick with a scent that was melting your inhibitions away, one by one. You felt arousal grow in your core, amplifying to the point where you let out a soft whimper, unable to control yourself anymore. 

You looked up slowly, gulping as you noticed the demon's eyes on you. He was smirking, a malicious one that was trained on you. His aura was driving itself into your brain, making you weaker and weaker in his presence.

"What...what are you doing to m-me?" You choked out, trailing off into a moan as you felt another sharp burst of pleasure.

"Hm? I'm not doing anything, little kitty. I'm just here, existing."

You felt your brain grow mushy as your neediness grew. 

He was an incubus, and you were chained to him with a blood link, thanks to the ritual. His pure sexual energy was merely too much for your human brain, and as the seconds passed by, you were closer to giving up.

Jeongin watched with horror in his eyes as you closed your eyes tightly, trying not to breathe in the contaminated air. However, as you felt another ribbon of ecstatic pleasure shoot through you, you finally snapped.

Whimpering like a bitch in heat, you crawled across the floor as the demon spread his thighs to accommodate you. He smirked at your needy form that looked up at him with wide, blown-out eyes, on your knees.

"Good girl." He ruffled your hair, chuckling as you ate up the praise, scrambling to unzip his pants. You managed to take his cock out finally, after a few minutes of fumbling.

He was big. Too big. His cock was redder than a human's, and almost angry looking.

Mouth-watering.

"What are you waiting for? Cat got your tongue?" He cooed, grabbing a handful of your hair as he held his cock with his other hand. 

You moaned, opening your mouth and staring up at him. He groaned, the innocence on your face entrancing him as he shoved you onto his length, your tiny mouth engulfed with his huge cock.

Spluttering, you felt tears spring to your eyes as he slid impossibly far down your throat. He groaned and threw his head back. The sight of you with your mouth stuffed full, your throat bulging with his cock...it was threatening to drive him insane.

Meanwhile, Jeongin could hardly believe what he was witnessing. He was frozen in place, unable to move even an inch as the shock filled every inch of his brain. The demon looked up at him, his grip on your hair relentless as he slowly started fucking your throat, so deep you could barely breathe.

"Like what you see, boy? Your girl's little throat mercilessly fucked by a demon? Tsk. How spineless." 

Jeongin felt the slightest bit of anger rush into him. Somehow, the demon's presence was amplifying his feelings, making him even angrier as he continued using your throat as a fucktoy. 

"S-stop."

"Hm? Why should I?" He paused, pulling you off his cock roughly, your mouth dripping with saliva and pre-cum. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No, Sir. Please, please use me!" You begged, eagerly moving forward to take him into your mouth again. 

The demon looked back up at Jeongin, evil grin reappearing. 

Jeongin clenched his fists, hating how weak he felt. The sight of you on your knees, sucking off this, this impossibly hot demonic man, was putting a bad taste in his mouth. 

"Sir, just...you have to, stop-"

The demon wrinkled his lips, shaking his head. "My name is Minho, boy. I don't own you, so I don't expect you to treat me with respect...although you will, if you know what's good for you." He tutted, looking down at you again and holding you down on him harshly, your nose pressed to his skin.

"This kitten here does, though. The little ritual she did binds her to me for life."

"You can't- you can't just do that. You can't just take ownership of someone against their will-"

"It's not against her will. She's the one who carried out the ritual, may I remind you. I'm not forcing her to do anything." He lifted a finger in the air lazily, and somehow you found your body changing position, hands slipping off his lap and settling on the floor. Now you were on all fours, lips still wrapped around him as he bucked his hips up.

"The air stinks of jealousy. May I remind you that Envy is one of the deadly sins, little boy?" 

Jeongin didn't know what to say any more. He felt utterly helpless, out of place. His feelings were all muddled, and he didn't feel like himself. Sweat was gathering on his brow as Minho eased his grip on your hair, slowing down a little and letting you control the pace. He lifted his finger again, waving it in a tight circle...The energy in the room shifted even more as your skirt slowly lifted up, exposing your ass to Jeongin's eyes.

It was becoming harder to hide the straining bulge in his pants. 

You whined softly as Minho pulled out of you, fingers holding your chin as he observed your wrecked face carefully. "What a good kitten. Now, I think this little boyfriend of yours is enjoying the show too much." Minho looked up, his gaze directed at Jeongin's bulge.

"Wouldn't it be mean to make him watch and leave him out of this, kitty?" He asked, mock sympathy on his face as he waved his finger again, making your panties and shirt disappear in less than a millisecond.

You let out a soft yelp, feeling slightly humiliated. It turned you on more, as you realized you were now completely naked except for your skirt and socks. "Yeah, Sir, whatever you say." You let out a sigh and rested your chin on his thigh. "Want Jeonginnie to join too~" you mumbled.

Jeongin gulped, hating the way even more blood rushed south at the sight of you half-naked and on all fours. Now, he had a clear view of your glistening pussy as well as your puckered rim. He licked his lips subtly, all his emotions conflicted as he found himself moving closer. 

"Y/n...you really want this?" He asked softly, stopping a few centimetres away.

You turned around to look at him. "Yeah...please..." You pouted. The expression on your face was so needy that Jeongin couldn't help but cave. Besides, now that he was closer to Minho, the aura he was emitting was starting to affect him as well. And that meant he could feel his arousal grow at a fast rate, his cock painfully caged in his pants.

Minho leaned down a little to pick you off the floor. His suit jacket and shirt disappeared, leaving him shirtless as he settled you on his lap, facing Jeongin as he spread your legs.

Hands on your waist, Minho nosed at the back of your neck as he lined your entrance up with his tip. Your eyes were focused on Jeongin, senses clogged with ardor as Minho slowly lowered you onto his cock. The wetness gushing out of you made it a little easier for him to slip in, however his size was still stretching you out to the point where it was borderline painful. 

You felt the tears flow down your face freely, as Minho finally managed to push the last few inches in, his entire girth sheathed in you. He was as thick as he was long, and your pussy accommodated him desperately, aching.

He grunted, wrapping his arms around your waist. "Too fuck- fucking tight, princess-" He groaned, starting to fuck you on his cock slowly, his strokes roughly trying to open up your pussy.

Jeongin couldn't remember exactly when he'd taken his cock out...but his hands were wrapped around it, stroking slowly as his hooded eyes watched you bounce on the demon's cock. Minho used one hand to gather your skirt up, exposing the spot where you two were connected to Jeongin.

Jealousy, arousal, fear, shock and anger...it all melted together in his brain as he let his dark side take over, slowly. He knew it was because he was in close quarters with an incubus- the raw sexual energy was too much for his human brain to process healthily...it still felt so wrong.

"You want to fuck her, don't you? What are you standing there for, then?" Minho groaned, as he continued plunging his cock into you.

You whined loudly as Minho's tip hit your sweet spot roughly. "Jeongin- want jeong-" You tripped over your words as Minho fucked you dumb.

"P-please, Jeonginnieeee~ Want you in me!" You begged, one arm reaching behind you to wrap around Minho's neck as his hands came up to cup your boobs.

Minho looked up from kissing your neck, red eyes trained on the boy. "You heard her."

He sure did. As the last shred of apprehension faded away, Jeongin couldn't bring himself to care any more. In a few long strides, he was right in front of you.

He let go of you, as Jeongin pulled you downward, so that your face was level with his cock. Minho's grip on your hips was tight, making sure you didn't fall as you tried to steady yourself by placing your hands on Jeongin's thighs.

His thumb swiped across your bottom lip as he stared at you with hungry eyes, before he slipped it in. You started sucking on it eagerly, making the boy above you chuckle. 

He pulled his thumb out, prompting a whine from you- but quickly, it was replaced with the head of his cock as he pressed it against your parted lips, taking him in.

Jeongin's cock, despite being much smaller than Minho's, was above average for a human, and it still filled up your mouth deliciously. You felt him dive deep into your throat as he tangled both of his hands in your hair, using that as leverage to fuck into your mouth harder. 

"Good boy..."

"Don't call me that." Jeongin spat, his anger building up. He took out his frustration on you, fucking your mouth harsher than Minho had. The combination of two cocks in you turned you on more than ever, and soon enough, you came as you blubbered incoherencies, clenching tightly around Minho.

A few thrusts later, Jeongin felt his high approach. Not wanting to cum yet, he pulled out quickly. You looked up at him, looking so fucked out, absolutely heavenly. How ironic.

He needed you. He'd never felt any emotion this intense before. Gritting his teeth, Jeongin pulled you off Minho, throwing you onto the bed with a grunt. You stared up at him in shock, looking to the right at Minho. 

The demon let out a low chuckle, settling himself comfortably in his chair as he propped his chin up with one hand, the other jerking himself off.

Jeongin couldn't look at you. He avoided eye contact, knowing he'd go completely insane if he looked at you.

Roughly spreading your thighs, he leaned down to take your clit between his teeth. You let out a moan, throwing your head back as he shoved his tongue between your folds, groaning at the taste. He kissed and sucked all over your pussy, heart beating a little too fast. His fingers came up to rub at your clit as he shallowly fucked his tongue into your entrance.

Minho slowly stood up, tired of standing to the side. Gently, he shoved Jeongin to the side. The latter growled in frustration, but stopped as Minho lay down on the bed. You quickly understood, his power influencing you to comprehend what he wanted you to do.

You climbed onto Minho backwards, his cock in front of your face. You kissed up his length immediately, lips wrapping around his tip as you felt him grab your ass, pulling you so your pussy made contact with his tongue. 

He pulled away for a second. "Go ahead and fuck her ass, it's a lot tighter than her pussy." He said, knowing how roughly he'd fucked you just a while ago.

Jeongin couldn't care less. He just wanted to be in you, as quick as possible. As he led his cock to your ass, he gulped. This was not how he'd expected the night to go. 

He spat on your winking pucker, pushing in shortly after. You were so consumed with passion that it barely hurt, even when he started thrusting roughly. The pleasure set you ablaze, the combination of Minho's lips wrapped around your clit and Jeongin's dick deep inside your ass tantalizingly unreal. You couldn't think straight. 

Minho put his hands under you, spreading your ass cheeks, making Jeongin groan. You felt his tongue making its way into your pussy, making you moan around his cock. 

The room was filled with sounds of skin slapping skin, as well as the groans of the two men fucking you.

Jeongin had imagined having sex with you before. This was definitely not how he'd ever expected it to go. He'd thought of asking you out, taking you on dates, kissing your face and lips softly...yet here he was now, fucking your ass demonically. 

You purred as you felt his cock twitch inside you, starting to suck on Minho's cock harder. He tasted so different, almost addicting. You were driven with an intense need to taste his cum, kitten-licking his slit to try and get him to orgasm. 

You whined as Minho used his grip on your ass to drag your pussy over his mouth. The sound was so beautiful, driving Jeongin closer to his high. Before he knew it, he was fucking into you faster than before, intent on filling you up. In seconds, he came with a grunt, filling you up perfectly with his seed.

As he came down from his high, he regained some of his sensibility. He felt self-loathing fill him, hating what he'd just done. 

Jeongin watched as Minho ate you out roughly, his grip so tight on your ass that it was sure to leave future bruises.

As the demon sucked on your clit, you felt yourself shake, whimpering around his length as another orgasm washed over you, clenching around Jeongin's cock that was still inside you. The overstimulation made him bite his lip and pull out, watching as a drop of his cum leaked out of you. Using his finger, he gathered it up and pushed it back into your hole gently. 

Your continuous moans were sending vibrations down Minho's length, and soon he was fucking up into your mouth, chasing his high. He came after a particularly rough thrust, filling up your mouth with so much cum that it leaked out of the corners of your mouth.

Jeongin sat back as Minho pushed you off of him slowly, propping you up on the bed. Weakly, you closed your eyes, collapsing against the pillow. All the strength had been zapped out of you, and you fell asleep quickly.

Minho noticed Jeongin's worried expression, chuckling. "She just got fucked by a demon and her best friend. She'll be okay after some rest." He said, running a hand through his sweaty hair.

"I...don't like this. She's never going to look at me the same way ever again. I've failed her as a best friend-"

"Woah, stop right there. She wanted it. She was practically begging for you."

"Well our friendship's never going to be the same after this, and I blame you." He said, glaring at the demon, who put up his hands in defense. 

"Look. You two summoned me, I came, I did my job." 

Minho lazily leaned back next to you, as you slumped, resting your head in his lap as you snored. He chuckled, and stroked your hair as if you were a cat.

"I could get used to living here." 

"What?!"

"Once I'm on Earth, I can't leave until I've satisfied my client's wishes. And I can tell the two of you are going to be...hard to satisfy. I'm going to be here for a while." He smirked. 

Jeongin tried not to let the jealousy show on his face. He hated the idea.

"You're in love with her...aren't you?"

Jeongin's eyes widened as he stared up at the demon whose eyes had softened. 

"I see the way you look at her. How protective you were of her." He sighed. "I'm a sex demon...love isn't my specialty. But...I know a few things about passion. You can't give up."

"That's easy for you to say." Jeongin groaned. Here he was, taking advice from a hellsent demon. What had his life come to?

"Anyway, I'll be spending a lot of time around here, so you'd better get used to this, boy."

"Jeongin." He looked up. "That's my name." 

Minho grinned. "I'll keep that in mind."

He sighed, looking at you as you exhaled in your sleep, heart clenching with fondness. He couldn't believe the situation you'd gotten the both of them into...but somewhere deep down inside, he didn't regret anything that had happened.

Sometimes, being the responsible, mature one in your friendship was a challenging job..but he wouldn't trade it for the world.

[suchalonelysunflower]

Running Through My Dreams - A duet (l.h)

Pairing: Luke Hemmings x Fem! Reader

Summary: based on Remembering Sunday by All Time Low. A conversation with flashes of the past

Warnings: Angst. Language. Mentions of death (non graphic) Mentions of Alcohol. Some grammatical errors (English is not my first language and I did not proof read this, I’m sorry)

Word count: 2k

Author’s Note: Just experimenting with sad topics and a new form of writing. Hope everyone can understand bc formatting this was a nightmare. Remember that Reblogs, Feedback, Comments and Likes are very important! You have no idea how much they help 💕 Hope you like it and Happy Reading 🦋🌻✨

My Materialist // wanna be part of my taglist?

How to read: Bold: Luke; Italics: Reader. Together

This might work better on mobile.

I woke up alone again in the middle of the night, it’s the third time this week.

I’ve been leaving the bed early

hoping you’ll get used to it.

I stay long enough, always leaving

after 2AM

The pillow doesn’t smell like her anymore. It hasn’t for a long time. She thinks I don’t notice

I knew you would.

But everyday I feel her pull farther away from me.

It wasn’t always like this

But I knew it would come to

this.

Still,

I needed to move on

What time is it? It can‘t be too late, it’s only past 2 AM and my head is killing me. What did I do?

The bottle near the bed should

serve as an answer

Fuck.

Where is she?

Sunday seemed so far away, but it’s only been a couple of days. You’ve been staying at his place, claiming that your apartment needed some fixing that the landlord promised to do, but that you needed to go back every morning just to make sure everything was in place.

You just never told him how early you’d be there. Making him wake up to an empty bed.

You woke up with the smell of bacon, cursing at yourself for letting sleep take over you last night. You didn’t mean to stay but what’s done is done.

Luke was standing in the kitchen, chest bare as he cooked the eggs the way you liked them.

You always knew me more

than I knew myself

“Good morning, love” He said when he saw you standing, almost hiding behind the door to the kitchen.

He smiled, and god you wished you could hate it.

“Morning,” You mumbled, clearly not in a good mood. Morning always did that to you. But Luke didn’t mind, he still smiled and placed a kiss on your cheek as you took a seat on one of the chairs.

“Do you need to go today?” He asked, placing your breakfast in front of you.

I always hated when she had to leave

You would’ve hated me more

if I stayed, even if I wanted to

Maybe it was the look in his eyes that made you weak. Those baby blues haunted you from the very start and you found yourself unable to say no to them. That’s why it was easier to leave when he slept.

“I can stay if you want”

She could’ve stayed forever.

He smiled bigger than before, pulling your chair closer to him as he kissed you softly. You melted against him as the sirens in your head went off. You couldn’t let this happen.

I could’ve told her that I loved her, I knew I did.

Do you even know what love is?

She never believed in it. She was afraid to get close, but I knew she felt it, too. How could she not?

There was something there.

Something I didn’t know was

possible

Something I felt all along.

But it’s late, or early and she hasn’t responded. Maybe

I got it all wrong

She must be there, somewhere. She might be alone. And I’m here.

You are where I want you to be

Where did she go? The girl I fell in love?

You laugh bounced through the walls as he chased you down.

“Luke!” You half cried, half laughed “Stop!”

But he only got closer, tickling your sides every time he could catch you on a corner.

It was just a game, just a moment for the two of you where you could just be yourselves. You didn’t get much of that before.

Luke smiled at the sound of your giggles, feeling as if the melody of them could very much be the soundtrack of his own happiness. He felt a bolt of electricity with every light touch, gracing his fingers carefully upon your skin to make sure he’s not hurting you. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you.

But did I ever? Maybe without knowing.

Your skin was on fire wherever he touched, leaving a scorching trail as his movements slowed down. The tickles now became caresses as you let your body rest against a wall, sighing softly when you felt his fingers trail up your sides.

The goosebumps started to appear the moment you felt his breath near your lips. His head hung low, letting his forehead rest against yours as you looked into his eyes.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. You knew by just a look where this was going and you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t want to let it happen.

Your hands flew to the back of his head as you pulled him into you, letting your lips capture his in a needed kiss.

You parted your lips when you felt his grip tighten on your waist, letting him deepen the kiss as he deem fit and making his tongue tangle with yours as he swallowed your moans into his mouth.

His body was against yours, pressing it to the wall and making you feel all of him as he covered your body completely. Never once letting your lips go until you gasped for air.

The look in both your eyes was clear as lust consumed your bodies. You pulled on his hand, smiling as you led him into the bedroom.

It was beautiful at the start

At the start we didn’t know

I should go to her, tell her I love her and that I’m sorry for anything I might’ve done.

You always took the blame

where there wasn’t one.

With the memories still playing inside his head, Luke got up from his place on the bed, instantly falling to the floor with his knees scraping against the carpet.

He didn’t know why his legs failed him when he tried to reach you, understanding that you were far away from where you were supposed to be.

She should be here. I need her here.

Luke got dressed as soon as he could. He knew he was too intoxicated to drive, he didn’t want to put anyone in danger; so he decided to walk.

He took his phone with him, smiling slightly when he noticed a missed call from you.

Why aren’t you picking up? Don’t you want to see me?

You were the only one who

could see me

I’m coming. I’ll find you. I know it’s not

It is

Too late

Your apartment building was just a few miles away, but Luke’s thoughts ran faster than he could. In his head he knew what to say once he saw you, once he made sure you were okay.

He had to tell you that he loved you, that he wouldn’t run away. He will give you all the time you need but, please.

Come back to me

The buttons all seemed the same to him, the names on the tags were too faded to even try and read them. But he knew your place by heart.

The second button to the left, just under the one who got a spot of red paint on it. It was the only apartment you could afford when you moved, but you loved it nonetheless.

He called, and called, and called, and called.

But the more he pressed the button, the more hopeless he felt.

Are you there? Can you hear me? I’m here. I’m here and I’m not leaving, not unless you want me to.

I don’t want to, but you will

Desperate, he starts pressing the buttons of your neighbors, hoping maybe one of them would let him in.

“I will call the police” Your upstairs neighbor said.

“Please,” Luke begged “I just need to speak with Y/N”

“Who?”

The man hung up. Luke tried another button.

“Anne?” A lady spoke.

Luke sighed “No, but I need to get into the building. My girlfriend needs me and it’s starting to rain, could you let me in, please?”

“Oh, sure, honey” The sweet lady said, opening the door for him.

Luke thanked the careless woman as he entered the building just before the few droplets of water fell upon his jacket.

He got up the stairs, skipping two steps as he tried to reach you as soon as possible. To hell with his dizzy head just as long as you were safe.

“Y/N?” He called, banging on your door loud enough to wake you up, but not too loud to disturb your neighbors.

I know you’re there

I know you’re here

“Y/N! Please let me in!”

He kept on banging, each one louder than the last one. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as his concern grew with every second you were not answering the door.

It’s been days since he’s seen you. Days since you left after Sunday. Days since he’s been sober because you ignored him after telling him it was over, without any explanation as to why.

I’m not going to

Give up

I’m not going to answer

I have to tell her that I love her.

I wish I could tell you why

She’s my dream

A nightmare, perhaps

I don’t want to

You have to

Wake up

“Is there anything I can help you with?” A couple dressed in robes stood outside their door.

Luke stared at your neighbors for a while before he could respond. He dried the tears off his face before saying.

“My girlfriend, she hasn’t been answering her phone-“ He didn’t care that his voice sounded broken when his whole spirit was shattered “I- I mean, I just want to make sure that she’s okay because I need to talk to her. Have you seen her?”

The couple looked at each other, the man sighed.

“Are you sure you got the right door, son?” He asked.

Luke furrowed his brows, checking the number placed at the door one more before nodding.

“Oh, dear” The woman said emphatically “The lady that lived there moved”

“What?”

“She's been moving her stuff for days now, but I think tonight she made the big move and took off. She even left us the key for the landlord when he came” The woman signaled her husband and he disappeared into their home for a few seconds before appearing again with the key in hands “I’m so sorry, darling”

Luke shook his head. This was not possible, you couldn’t be….

Gone

“Do you want to check for yourself?” The man asked, handing Luke the key to your apartment.

He thanked the couple and apologized for the disturbance.

This can’t be true.

But what if it is?

She would’ve told me

I never told you how I felt

And now it’s

It can't be

Too late

Luke opened the door to your apartment, holding back a breath as he realized it was completely bare.

All your stuff were not there anymore. Not a picture or furniture that could prove your existence, not even a ghost that could testify that someone lived there once. A someone that he had loved.

He walked to the middle of your small living room, letting his eyes scan for anything that you might’ve left behind. Something that he could hold on to so he knows you’ll be back, or at least something that could tell him where you went.

The rain fell against the bare window, letting the shadows of the droplets racing through the glass plaster against the wooden floor, mirroring Luke’s tears as he realized that

I’m not coming back

Not like you expect me to

Why did she leave?

I thought it was for the best

But I regretted it the

moment I stepped into the

car

She could’ve come to me

I was coming back to you

I called and you didn’t

answer. So I tried again.

I swear i didn’t see that truck

coming my way.

Y/N

It all happened so fast

Y/N….

I’m not coming back

No….

I was terrified. But then

I was

I want to be

With you

Luke

I can’t understand

I did something so terrible

Could you…

Forgive me

I tried to find home when

home is where you are.

Now I’m in the clouds

I just need to know that you’re

I’m

Okay

I’ll be with you

But you won’t see me

I wished I could tell you how much I loved you

You already did

“Luke?”

The blonde man jumped at the sound of Ashton’s voice. He was standing in the middle of the field, letting the rain tower over him as he woke up from his nightmare.

It’s been three days since he stood in your apartment. Three days since he got the call from the hospital. Three days of unstoppable rain and grey clouds that seemed to be following him since the day he lost you.

Now, he stood in a black suit, letting his eyes wander over the carved letters of your name once again.

“Are you okay? Is there something you want to do? Something we can do?”

He stood still.

“I really thought I would marry her”

His band mates stood right by his side this whole time, never letting him out of sight. Letting their hearts break with him.

Calum placed a hand on his shoulder.

“She loved you, Luke. She would’ve want you to keep going”

Luke smiled sadly, “I always loved her more”

After a few minutes, Luke asked them to leave him alone with you to say goodbye.

He kneeled in front of the marble that laid on the ground, completely damped from all the rain, and smiled softly.

“I might never understand why you did it, why you ran, why they took you away from me far too soon when your car was headed back here… But, I know you were scared and I don’t blame you for that, you were always braver than me, even when you were afraid. You’ll have a lot to explain when we meet again, love, and I promise I won’t let you go when that happens. But until then, I’ll see you Sunday”

I’ll be here.

I love you

*

*

Tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @mystic-232 @talksoprettyjjx @theshyspy @hoodhoran @flaneurcth @matchacal @bubblegum18 @irwin-fletcher-ash @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @1980holland @wiiildflowerrr @hoplessromantic727 @fivesecondsofonedirection @another-lonely-heart @aabc5sauce @dudethisiswhyyoudonthavefriends @major5sosstan @myloverboyash @nicebasscalum @calumspupils @secretsicanthideanymore @the-ghost-of-ash @alltimesos @girlwhosimps @wontlastimokwiththat @ttinahood @kingxnichole @givebuckyhisplumsnow @hufflehemm @wildflower98

[phoebelovingcare]

May I have some Zan facts/headcanons? I'm starting to be quite endeared to her, and I thought I'd consult the local Mage Sister expert. Thank you in advance!

Zan Partizanne time!!

I'll just start saying stuff in order from "just a simple fact in my mind like 'fire is hot'" to "very careful character analysis", but that might fluctuate so don't count on it

Zan Partizanne is the eldest of the three mage sisters, and canonically the "best", as in faster, stronger, and more strategic than the other two, regardless of whoever's fight you personally found easier. Notably, on your first encounter with the three mages, you can defeat Flam and Fran fast enough to not see their secondary weapons, but Zan will show you the drums in both fights no matter what, and has two possible attacks with them, as opposed to the other two who just fire lasers.

The whole nicknaming scheme about Zan Partizanne, with parmesan and par and other such replacements, comes from canon. It derives from a pause screen where her loyalty to Hyness is described, where she is indebted to him "even though he has yet to remember her overly long name!" A couple of Hyness' pause screens alude to this by having him address her as "Zan Par". Parmesan might have been a fan concept, but the joke was also made by Magolor on Twitter, where he refers to Zan as "that parmesan cheese lady" in retaliation for her own insult towards him. Zan also HATES nicknames and INSISTS that you remember and use her full name constantly, reintroducing herself multiple times in tweets and insisting that you must already know that and not to forget. Poor girl.

Despite her personal grievances with nicknames, she almost never addresses anyone else around her by their own full name. The exception is Lord Hyness, whom she refers to by name and title every single time, but even her sisters get "Franny and Berge", and Kirby gets "stubby little pink ball", along with every Dream Friend and some beyond: Shadow Kirby is "bastard." Yes, she called them a bastard. Void Termina is "fluffy god", because apparently no name is sacred except for her own and Hyness'.

Zan Partizanne values courage! She insults Adeleine and Ribbon for being cowardly by hiding behind a canvas as a shield. Given the fact that she was also lying in wait for Kirby to arrive in her two fights, sitting in plain view in the first one, it seems she frowns upon any kind of hiding or fleeing.

Zan is petty as all hell. See also, insults children on the regular. But ALSO the fact that upon being defeated the first time, she was willing to destroy the entire fortress she was powering and guarding just so that Kirby and friends would fall with it.

Zan is described on multiple occasions as being incredibly loyal and "always repaying her debts". She owes a life debt to Hyness for resurrecting her as a child and taking her in, and continues to serve him without question even while being mistreated. She is also depicted as defending him and his actions at every given opportunity, not letting anyone else criticize him. In a particular light novel, that even extends to her sisters. Zero tolerance policy for Hyness hate. Someone get her a therapist.

SOMEONE GET HER A THERAPIST. The story of Zan getting her elemental powers talks about her climbing a tower "in desperation" only to be struck by lightning, at which point Hyness has to save her from dying. It's unclear why she climbed the tower... Unless you're in Japan, where things aren't censored. In Japanese there's an extra line that notes that she'd "lost everything", or perhaps "had nothing left to lose". Oh. Even if you were to chalk that up to NOT being the worst case scenario, she (and her sisters!) were also all perfectly okay with facilitating the end of the world, which they all live in. So yeah, therapy.

On a lighter note, Zan's favorite food is flan! Caramel pudding!

Zan's voice is lower and smoother compared to her sisters, and she has this loud posh-sounding ojou laugh. If you listen closely to her text scrolling sound, you can faintly hear static electricity buzzing! Flamberge and Francisca also have this effect, with Flam having a wooshing fire noise and Fran having some whistling wind.

I was planning to get some headcanons in here as well, but I think this kinda summary of everything I know works fine. Everything I headcanon for Zan is based upon all these character facts about her... Y'know what, maybe I can spare a few:

Zan Partizanne only calls other people by their full name in serious moments.

Zan doesn't get a lot of sleep, and tends to overwork herself, often to the point of exhaustion.

Zan plays herself up as intense, serious, and intimidating in front of others, but is much more emotional than she appears and is incredibly caring, maternal even.

As you can see, if I wanted to I could back all these up with canon information - the first time Zan calls Kirby by name, her obsessive loyalty and shame over cowardice, her irrational anger and that same loyalty implying more to her than sternness, etc. These are the facts I use as a character guide for the lovely Zan Partizanne, and I hope you find much use in them as well :)

[soldierswar]

Kobik - X (Final Chapter)

Bucky x Reader

Pure fluff

Synopsis: You're just gonna have to read the fluff to find what this chapter is about. ;)

Masterlist

....................

“Okay but seriously…Where the hell are we going?”

You may have not been able to see Bucky through the blindfold, but you could have sworn that you could hear his eyes rolling.

“Y/N, you do realize that that defeats the entire purpose of a surprise don’t you?”

You crossed your arms and let out a loud and dramatic groan sinking down the passengers’ seat of the car.

“We’re almost there,” Bucky chuckled.

You rested your hand on your belly and playfully whispered to it.

“Do you know where we’re going?”

Again, you could sense Bucky’s eyes rolling.

After about 30 minutes of driving, the car came to a stop.

“Can I take the blindfold off?”

“Not until I tell you, doll,” Bucky ordered.

You could hear him get out of the car before opening yours and carefully guiding you to step out.

“Oh, how gentlemanly of you,” you remarked sarcastically.

“You know, I can turn around and take us back home,” Bucky joked while guiding you to walk backward with him for an alarming amount of steps. You didn’t know if you should continue to be annoyed, or if you should be nervous or…excited?

“Okay,” Bucky said breathily.

“Take it off.”

You nervously untied the bandana and removed it taking a second to let your eyes adjust to actual sunlight. When you managed to be able to see you saw none other than…A house?

“Is this where Kobik lives?” you asked.

It was a really nice two-story house painted a deep blue on the outside. It was almost exactly the kind of house that you had always dreamed of having since you were a little girl. It had a little garden of roses in the front yard of the house which was enclosed by a short, black wooden gate. You could see that there was also a backyard, and the most beautiful porch on the right side of the house.

“I thought she lived a little further away than 30 minutes…”

“Yes she does,” Bucky answered.

“Okay, then why are we he—”

And then you found yourself pausing.

This place looked familiar. Eerily familiar. But at the same time, you could have sworn that you’d never seen this house before.

You found your attention pointing to exact spots that were clearly familiar. This was…

“Bucky this isn’t…”

He didn’t answer. He just stayed behind you continuing to rest his hands on your upper arms.

“This can’t be…”

You turned your face to his direction to see none other than that sly smile on his lips and a raised eyebrow.

“It can’t?”

“No…That’s impossi—”

But you could see it in his eyes. You were exactly where you were thinking you were.

It was your secret spot.

But now it wasn’t an old broken-down shell of a house. The giant blocks of broken concrete that you sat on barely weeks ago where you told Bucky some of the most shocking news of your life were gone. Everything was…Perfect.

“Surprise!” you heard a familiar voice yell moments before the little figure bolted out of the magically opening door giving you the biggest hug. Oh, how you missed her hugs.

As you swung her around and held her tight another realization hit you. And you froze.

The amount of time that it had taken to clear all of the rubble, build a new house, and create the type of atmosphere that surrounded you was almost…No, literally impossible. Unless…

“Kobik?” you questioned, holding her as she continued to hug you.

“Did you do this?”

She pulled away and gave you the happiest nod.

“I wanted it to be my first big project!” she exclaimed.

“I could see in your mind that you wanted a house just like this.”

You turned to Bucky who was smiling at the both of you.

“Project?” you asked dumbfoundedly.

“This was her idea. I just helped her with some of the details…And I think you forget that she’s kind of a mind-reader.”

“Bucky you can’t be serious…”

With Kobik still in your arms, he pulled closer to you and kissed you on top of the head and said,

“Welcome home.”

…

Kobik was incredibly antsy to show you every inch of the house. And they were right. It was a complete replica of what you had always wanted. Even a little more.

The living room had an old-style brick wall with a fireplace along with a small dining area painted a deep red.

In the upstairs area, there was a massive bedroom painted black and white decorated with photos that you had put in storage not too long ago. And the highlight, the biggest walk-in closet that you had ever seen in your life.

“Come on!” Kobik exclaimed hurriedly.

“I haven’t shown you my favourite parts yet!”

She excitedly took you by the hand.

She took you into an electric blue room with a twin bed covered with a comforter decorated with big lighting bolts.

“You said I can come visit right?” she asked hopefully.

She made her own room. And it made you want to cry.

With her hand holding yours, she knew how you felt.

“And…” Bucky added.

“The grand finale.”

He swung the last door open, and you couldn’t believe what you saw.

It was a room decorated with your favourite animal. Elephants. Along with…a crib and a really comfy-looking rocking chair. Things that would be needed for a room for…a baby.

Now…You were in tears, and Bucky came up from behind you and held you tight rocking you while you giggled and composed yourself.

“Do you like it?” she grinned.

How did you get so lucky?

…

You, Bucky, and Kobik spent the rest of the day together in the…in your new house.

During Kobik’s time away from you, she had been learning so much more about her powers. She was way more powerful than she or her new guardians had anticipated. Not even Kobik knew how powerful she could be. She excitedly told you stories next to the fireplace (with a blue fire manifested by Kobik), about what she was learning to do. She even talked about what she considered to be the ‘boring’ parts. But they were things that were extreme scientific breakthroughs.

The thing that mattered to you most was that seemed really happy. And despite the hole in your heart that you felt when she wasn’t around, you were incredibly happy for her. Bucky was right. She needed to grow, and growing was exactly what she was doing.

Suddenly you could have sworn that you could hear a little pitter-patter upstairs.

The first time you tried to disregard it. But after the fourth time, you had to ask.

“What the hell is that?”

“What the hell is what?” she replied.

Before Bucky or Kobik could answer any further, a white cat with electric eyes somewhat like Kobik’s emerged through the wall exactly how Kobik would when she was too underwhelmed with the notion of opening and closing a door to enter and exit rooms.

“What the hell is that?” you shrieked.

“Alpine there you are!”

What did she say? What did she just call her? And why was she so familiar with her?

“Alpine?”

“She’s all white and Kobik thought it just made sense.”

“She was kind of an accident. But she’s really friendly,” Kobik explained.

“Whoops.”

“I mean we’re not exactly new to accidents. Right, Y/N?”

You smacked him on the arm.

“Let me guess…The supernatural cat is staying with us isn't she.”

“Hazel’s kind of allergic to cats,” Kobik cringed.

“Here kitty,” Bucky called, and Alpine trotted over to him and rubbed herself against his knee.

You rolled your eyes, giggled, and submitted to keeping the freaky but friendly-looking cat.

This was it. Even if you didn’t know it this was everything that you could have wanted. There you were sitting in a house that weeks ago was nothing but an abandoned lot with a broken building that oddly you and Bucky sometimes found as a sanctuary. A place where you had revealed that whether you were ready or not you were going to start a family. And most of all, the place where Bucky revealed to you a true treasure that was no one else but Kobik.

You were happy.

They were happy.

And the most important thing…All of you were loved.

Notes: HEY GUYS! Thank you so so much for being patient with these last few chapter updates. Life just got really stressful, and bad, and then ended up in a mental hospital last week lol. (Idk why I'm admitting this.)

I want you to know that this isn't the end of Kobik. I'm way to attached to her to never write about her again so you'll see some one-shots every now and again. Let me know if you would like to continue to be tagged.

I hope you enjoyed the ride. Thanks for being so supportive.

Tagged: @blakefc @cherry-shake @buckylove123 @teenagedreams-bucky @typicalnerd98 @veroxloki @white-wolf-buckaroo @acciosiriusblack @pastel-boy-sungjae @flightsandfantasy @noiralei @unstablesleepygal @general-latino

[let-it-raines]

Black Velvet (1/1)

1919. The War is over, but life is far from normal. While the imminent danger is gone for many, it is not gone for Emma Swan. Her secrets have always been dangerous and had the ability to control her, but they have never been more dangerous than now as she is forced to work undercover as a barmaid and keep her true intentions hidden from the most notorious gang leader in England. 

Her life depends on it, but unfortunately for Emma, Killian Jones can read her better than anyone ever has. 

Rating: Mature 

a/n: I was going to wait to post this next week since I’ve been catching up on posting other things this week and flooded you all with words, but I am sooooo excited for this one! Like, I haven’t written a big one-shot in awhile, and this one is a little different for me. But I love it, and hope that you do as well! For my Peaky Blinders fans, I think you’ll recognize some similarities because this is def based on it😘

Found on AO3 | here | 

-/-

There is a sudden crash of glass shattering against the battered wood floor, stains of alcohol, blood, and the scuff marks of boots covering it to make it a darker wood than it originally was. She’s scrubbed that floor until her hands were dry and cracked, but the stains are as imbedded in the wood as the Jones family is in this place, their place. The stains might well be purposeful, and really, they could have been, a sure sign that the Joneses are not scared to let anyone know they do not mind getting blood on their hands or mind leaving the evidence behind. In fact, they are likely proud of it.

Loud cursing fills the usually subdued pub, arguments over whose fault it was for the spilling of the whiskey, but Emma knows that it doesn’t matter whose fault it was when she’s the one who has got to clean it up and scrub the damn floors clean when all is said and done.

Damn drunk men and their damn petty fights over what always amounts to being about a woman who has no interest in either of them.

Sighing, she turns on her heels behind the bar where she was polishing tumblers and other glasses and walks back into the storage room to retrieve the broom and dustpan along with some cloths. She is not supposed to leave the bar and the alcohol unattended, but she has been working here long enough to know that anyone who stumbles into this particular pub is smart enough to know not to steal from the Jones family.

They’ll be dead faster than the rum can pass their lips, and the Joneses don’t give out the good stuff to just anyone so that would be one pathetic last drink.

Twisting on the lights in the closet, her eyes scan over shelves of supplies and half-empty bottles that have somehow made their way back here, until she finds the broom, unattached from the pan.

Of course. Why would the broom ever be stored away with its matching set?

“Fuck,” she mutters, adjusting her trousers. They are too large around her waist, but she hasn’t had time to buy any new clothes lately. From what she’s gleamed, trousers on women are not widely accepted in Birmingham, but some days she cannot be bothered to wear a dress that squeezes the breath out of her. Today was one of those days, but unless she wants her knickers on display for everyone to see, she is going to have to buy new clothes soon.

“That’s no language for a lady.”

Immediately, she twists around to look at the other side of the room where the deep, accented voice originated. He’s standing with his gray suit clad legs crossed over another, arms stretched over his chest so that his shirt tightens around his muscles, and there is a bloody smirk plastered on that ever-handsome face under the dark brush of his facial hair. He’s without his cap and suit jacket today, but he’s never without his vest and the shirt that stays indecently unbuttoned. It is the one thing that never changes about his appearance, and the day she sees his shirt fully buttoned, Emma knows shit will start flying in every direction.

“Well, as you know, I’m far from a lady. I work here after all.”

Blue eyes flicker up and down her body, taking in the curves of her hips and her breasts even under her loose clothing, the bastard, and if possible, the smirk intensifies, curling from one side of his lips to the next.

“Now, darling,” he croons, uncrossing his legs and taking three strides forward to stand in her space, hovering just enough above her to make her feel smaller than she already is, “you and I both know that is not true.” “Do we?” she argues, raising a brow in his direction.

He chuckles, something dark that heads straight between her thighs, and then warm hands are on her hips, rough fingertips brushing against the skin at her waist, and hot breath brushes over her ear and down her neck while whiskers prick her skin.

“Did you miss me, love?” Killian whispers before pulling back, putting space between them as quickly as he closed it off.

“Were you gone?”

His head tilts back with laughter, and she watches him roll his shirt sleeves up, revealing angry red scars and marks on his left hand. She’s heard the rumors of how he received those scars, but when it comes to Killian Jones, rumors are not reliable. He’s done things the average person could never dare dream of, and fiction and reality toe a thin line, both of them crossing until everything is blurred.

“I was in London for two weeks, love. I cannot believe you didn’t notice my absence. I would have thought it would be at the forefront of your mind.”

“Well, I know this may be hard for you to believe, but my thoughts do not revolve around you.”

His brow lifts, lines on his forehead moving with it, and he cocks his head to the side, disbelieving. “A woman as fascinating as you must have too many things to fill her mind other than me, so I can actually believe it if you must know.”

“You flatter me.”

Killian clicks his tongue. “I intend to.” He moves around her, footfalls quiet, and presses open the hidden door in the closet he must have walked through to be in here. “My brothers and I will be in our dining room today. Get the good stuff from the safe.”

Emma mockingly bows. “It would be my pleasure.”

He stares, blue eyes bright compared to the darkness of the rest of him, and then he slips out, moving through the back hallways and compartments that were installed during the War but are now used for the family to avoid their enemies and the coppers, who are usually paid off but can sometimes still question the Joneses’ business practices, especially when there’s a new hire for their more questionable ventures. It is a fascinating thing to watch how a family who supposedly manufactures automobiles and distills rum has such a varied number of enemies. Maybe that is simply how it is for all businessmen, but Emma wouldn’t know.

She is simply a barmaid after all.

When she exits the closet with both broom and pan in hand, the argument is over, but the shattered glass remains. She quickly cleans it, dumps the glass outside, and gets back to tending bar, talking to the men who wander in and out of the place. Half of them fancy her, she knows. It’s obvious in the way they speak to her, even more obvious in the way they will often attempt to touch her, but Emma does not get paid to appease the baser desires of the patrons of My Fairest Lady. If she did, she would be in an entirely different type of business where her purse would be full for once.

As the day passes, men come in and out in their tailored suits and carefully curated ties, and Emma watches all of them, seeing where they go and what they order. She watches as some walk up the stairs and only appear again hours lately, but mostly she watches the ones that walk into the pub and immediately turn right into the private room the Joneses sit in when they decide they are going to conduct business at the pub instead of in one of their offices. When the rest of the place quiets, she can often hear them, especially if she decides to rest near the small trap door through which they order their drinks.

Tonight, they are talking about needing new men, but she cannot hear well enough as to why. This has been her problem for weeks. She gleams a little information, but not enough, and if Killian Jones wasn’t so in tune to every noise in the place, she’d sneak through the back tunnels and listen from there.

That would surely get her killed.

The sun sets early, the smog from the factories outside aiding in the darkening of the world, and when her shift is over for the night, Emma grabs her things and leaves, walking through the streets of Birmingham until she is at her flat, a small, dingy little place that reminds her of the homes she grew up in. It wasn’t her first choice, but so often, things aren’t.

Emma twists the key in the lock and walks inside. For all of its faults, the place has electricity. That makes her life much easier since she does not have to go about striking matches and blowing out fire every few hours.

“Hello, dearie.”

Emma’s skin pales, and heaviness settles in her stomach, weighing her down to keep her from moving. Sitting at her kitchen chair is Robert Gold, and no matter how long she has worked with him, she will never feel comfortable when he decides to show his face without notice.

She will never feel comfortable even when he gives notice.

“Gold,” Emma nods, straightening her back. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Slowly, he stands, using his gold-encrusted cane to prop himself up, and Emma shuts the door behind her. She has a knife in a strap around her thigh, and while she technically works for him, she doesn’t trust Gold as far as she can throw that knife.

“Have you located the guns?”

“If I had, you would know.”

“That doesn’t work for me.”

Emma tilts her head back and scoffs, her rapid heartbeat calming as her skin heats, rage and fire and disbelief settling in the bumps of her skin. “Oh, my deepest apologizes. It is obviously a simple bloody task to infiltrate the most notorious gang in the city and gleam where they keep stolen guns. They don’t talk so openly about their business!”

Gold walks closer, beady eyes reflected under the lamplight, and Emma stays steady. “We hired a woman to do this because women are Killian Jones’s weakness. Get to know him, get in his bed, and then you will be in the inner circle.”

She spits. “I am not sleeping with him for your cause.”

“Is my cause not your cause? Getting rid of undesirable gangs and criminals that disrespect the Crown and steal from our arms factories?”

Emma laughs, her heartbeat racing again. “I work for you because I have no other choice. It was this or death.”

He shrugs, tapping his cane. “You shouldn’t have made a deal with me, and we wouldn’t be in this position. Alas, we are, and you must deal with the consequences of your actions, dearie. All deals have a price. I’ll be returning.”

Gold steps around her, making Emma move to the side, and then he exits her flat. His presence, however, lingers, and she feels as if grime and smog are coating her skin. That is a feeling that never goes away, but it is especially present after one of Gold’s visits. Emma curses and stomps her foot, despising her situation. She is only twenty-three years of age, but she has lived the life of an elder. Growing up in orphanages does not set a woman up for a good life, and seven years ago when she fell pregnant but couldn’t afford to take care of the baby, she went to Gold for help. He was known to be able to do anything, especially find homes for children without charging the birth mother exuberant prices, but no one told her the price of his services would be to work for him and the government in backhanded deals. It was this, death, or harm done to a child she has only held once but loves as if she was allowed to raise him.

She couldn’t be a mother, doesn’t know if she ever will be able to again, but she will not let harm fall on that child.

So, now, she is shipped across Europe, putting her life at risk every day. After all, what is the potential of death when compared to certain death?

-/-

Days pass, and Emma learns of no new information. She works long hours, taking extra shifts and standing behind the bar until her feet bleed from blisters, her heels too small with swollen feet. Every day, Killian and his brothers Liam and Lee walk inside, often with William Scarlet and Rob Locksley following behind them, but they say nothing more to her than greetings and drink orders. Killian will spend additional time leaning over the bar, his voice deep with his flirtations, but she pushes them away. She will not sleep with him to get information, and she will not sleep with him because he thinks she is easy prey.

Men like him, no matter how enticing, do not lead to good things.

Knowing he’s the head of a gang doesn’t reassure her.

Knowing one day he will have a price on her head, well, it does not give her any confidence that she could ever be anything more than a warm body in his bed. Most likely, he wouldn’t give her the curtesy of taking her there, instead taking her behind the bar.

If only she had been born into a family with means. Maybe then she could live a life where death did not linger so closely.

“Swan, darling,” Killian calls from his private room, “can you come in here?”

Emma stills, gripping on her glass, but she quickly composes herself. It’s not often she is called into the room, and while she would like an invitation to the inside, she knows it comes with risks. Slowly, she moves around the bar and heads toward the door. Liam opens it for her, nodding, and she steps inside as Liam closes the door behind her. Killian, Lee, William, and Rob are sitting in the cushioned booths, and Killian pats the seat beside him. She nods and sits next to him, keeping her posture straight and face neutral.

“Emma, love,” Killian starts, “you’re educated, are you not?”

“I am not.”

Killian twists and looks at her with wide eyes. “You speak like you’ve been educated.”

“Natural intelligence,” Emma shrugs. Gold gave her an education, but she refuses to give him any credit when most of it has been of her own doing. “I attended school as a child, but not much else. Everything has been self-taught.”

“See,” Lee sighs, “I don’t need more schooling.”

“You damn well do if you want to be a part of this business! We are educated men, and you will be no different.”

“Where did you go to school?” Emma asks, not able to help herself.

“Oxford. Though, my studies were interrupted by my needed service in the War.”

“It’s a shame.”

“I think I’m doing well for myself, regardless, love.”

“You should go to school, Lee,” Emma tells the youngest Jones brother, a bastard child of their father they brought into the family business. “You have the Jones Corporation to fall back on, but if you want to be a true asset, you should better yourself as much as you can.”

“Oi, am I bloody well supposed to take advice from a woman? A woman who is a barmaid no less? What could you possibly know?”

Killian slams his hand down on the table, glass and silverware shaking. “This woman is far more competent than you, lad, and I suggest you respect her. Everyone is your equal, no matter what dear old dad told you to make you believe otherwise.”

Lee curses under his breath, and Emma slinks back into the booth as the room stills, the air heavy with unspoken words waiting to be set free. She doesn’t know if she should stay or walk out of the room and back to her job, but Killian makes the decision for her. “Why don’t you all go? Get back to work.”

“What about what we were discussing?” Liam questions, but he still grabs his cap and his coat.

“We will discuss it later.” The men nod and then begin to shuffle out of the room. Emma moves to join them, but Killian reaches out and grabs her wrist, the warmth of his hand spreading over here. “Stay, Swan.”

She doesn’t dare deny him as she cannot give up any opportunity to learn more about him, so she turns and takes the seat opposite him, smoothing out her skirt and her hair. “Is everything alright?”

“The horse race is this weekend, as I’m sure you know, and I’d like to bring you as a guest.”

Emma blanches. “Excuse me?”

A smile creeps onto his face, and he reaches into his pocket to slide a bag of coins across the table. “I’d like to take you to the races as my companion. You should use this to buy a nice dress and hat.”

“Are you trying to buy my affections?”

“I think we both know you cannot be bought.”

If only he knew.

Emma studies him, trying to read past the smile and the friendly invitation, but she sees nothing of any use. “Why me?”

Killian leans forward, elbow pressed to the table and chin resting on his knuckle. “I fancy you from time to time when you aren’t ignoring me, as I have made no secret.”

Emma thinks to all the times where she’s forgotten herself and has allowed Killian to get close in the way she doesn’t want, all the times he has lingered close to her and pressed his lips to her neck before she pulls away. She will not sleep with him for money or for Gold’s cause, but she would be telling a lie if she said she has never considered it for her own personal reasons. Her mind is constantly contradicting her there, and Emma has never been able to settle her thoughts one way or another.

Getting into bed with dangerous men leads to getting into bed with dangerous things.

Emma has already put on the sheets and started slipping out of her shoes despite her best efforts not to.

“So, you expect me to buy a nice outfit and spend a day away with you as nothing more than an ornament on your arm because you fancy me?”

“I expect nothing of you. Every choice is up to you.”

Emma reaches her fingers across the table and takes the purse of coins. “Any color in particular you’d like for my dress?”

“Surprise me.”

-/-

Her dress is red, and when she walks into My Fairest Lady on Saturday morning, she can feel the eyes of the entire place on her. It’s made of a delicate lace and flowered accents and flares out at the hips, but the corset makes her breasts push up, cleavage showing where she usually hides it. Her heels were dyed to match, her hat too, and it is the nicest thing she’s ever worn. It feels foreign on her skin, and while Emma would prefer comfort, she doesn’t mind feeling elegant for once. Anna, the woman who lives next to her, saw Emma carry her dress home, asked where she was going with it, and insisted she allow Emma to roll her hair with hot curlers and apply paint to her lips. She thinks the redness of her lips along with the cleavage may be the thing that brings down the Jones Company, and if she’d known that, maybe she would have dressed like this earlier.

“You look,” Killian begins.

“I know,” Emma finishes, taking his hand as he helps her into the carriage. “You look nice as well.”

“And much like you, I did know that.”

The drive to the races doesn’t seem long, but Emma knows they’ve traveled for at least two hours. Killian doesn’t talk for much of it, but when he does, it’s to point out something on the side of the road. He’s able to tie everything in with a story from the War or something William Scarlet has done, and Emma chuckles, seeing the lighter side of them. She knows how they spend much of their time, and it is not taking all of Killian’s suits out of his closet and replacing them with Lee’s so they’ll be several sizes too small.

When they arrive at Cheltenham, it is like nothing Emma has ever seen before. The building around the track is glamourous and obviously newly built, and everyone around is in their nicest clothes. To Emma, this is foreign, every bit of it. Her life is a life in the shadows in tattered clothes and normal things. Her life is not spent betting on horse races and wearing dresses worth more than her flat to accompany the head of a gang while she secretly attempts to discover where he’s hiding the guns Gold wants.

She does not even know why Gold wants those guns so badly when the factory can surely produce more, but her entire life is about finding them.

She should have never stepped foot in his house had she known these would be the consequences, but she needed to give that kid the good life he has.

“This is spectacular,” Emma says as the carriage stutters to a stop amongst all the others, motors slowly dying out.

Killian takes her hand and guides her out of the carriage, placing his hand on her lower back when they set foot on the gravel. “You haven’t seen anything yet, love.”

Killian is right in that she hasn’t seen anything because when they walk inside, the floor is lined with black and white tiles, and the ceiling is home to ornate paintings and chandeliers that look too heavy to stay there. Emma shouldn’t feel overwhelmed by it all, but she does. Killian knows every other person they pass, some greeting him with reverence and some greeting him with fear, but they all greet him just the same. His hand stays steady on her back as he moves her though the hallways, and he introduces her to several other women before disappearing into another room. She wants to follow him, to see what business he’s doing, but she knows she can’t.

“How do you know Killian Jones?” a woman with long brunette hair asks. Emma thinks her name is Ruby, but she cannot remember. It was too much talking at once.

“How do you?” Emma counters.

“I was his lover years ago.”

Emma arches her brow. “Well, that does not shock me.”

“Oh, you don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?”

Ruby steps closer to her, whispering so no one around them can hear. “He had an affair with the wife of a powerful man, and the man killed his wife in front of Killian and burned Killian’s hand. After that, he slept with anyone who so much as looked like his lover because he was often too drunk to realize the difference. So, you, you’re different. I have never seen him go with a blonde.”

“Well,” Emma steadies, trying to keep her heart from racing after what she heard, “I am not his lover, so I imagine you’ll have to keep waiting to see that.”

“Not yet,” Ruby tells her before stepping away, dress trailing behind her.

“You ready to watch the races?”

Emma jumps at Killian’s returned presence, and he chuckles, placing his hand on her back again while looking down at her, amused. “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” Emma lies. “Just fine.”

She flashes a smile that reaches her eyes, making it as genuine as possible, and before Killian guides her to their seats, she sees a spot of blood on his shirt. She doesn’t know if it is his or someone else’s, but she does know that whatever business he had at the races has very little to do with horses.

-/-

Emma’s feet ache when she settles into her seat in the carriage, and she immediately toes out of her shoes and tucks her feet underneath her. Killian eyes her with curiosity, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he shrugs of his jacket and lays it over her lap.

“You may not have been able to move, but you cut quite the figure in that dress.” Her cheeks heat, but she doesn’t say anything, simply smiling at him. “Did you enjoy the races, Swan?”

“I did. Though, not as much as you.”

“What makes you say that?”

Emma hums and taps her fingers over Killian’s suit jacket, moving it to cover more of her. “Well, your purse is fuller. Your horse won, and if I heard correctly, you are now in charge of all bets.”

He turns to look at her, and if she were talking to any other member of the gang, she would back away. For some reason, however, the leader doesn’t scare her tonight, not like he should. She had one too many glasses of fine wine.

“How exactly do you know that?”

Emma points to the small blood stain on his shirt. “I’m assuming that is the blood of someone from the Mills family, who all mysteriously went away before the races even started. Everyone came to Rob and Liam to make their bets. It does not take a genius to figure things out once the pieces begin to fall into place.”

“Not a genius, no, but someone with an observant eye.” He leans forward, invading her space like he so often does. “You, love, know a little too much.”

“What are you going to do about it?” Emma whispers, breathless.

He leans closer, until her air and his air are the same, and Emma closes her eyes to brace herself, not knowing what is coming next. His lips ghost over hers, but they do not firmly touch. Instead they linger, and Emma feels every move he makes. “Keep you close,” Killian finally says. “I believe you would know too much for me to let you go.”

Enough but not what she needs.

“I believe you may be right.”

Killian rests his hand on her thigh before pulling back, their air separating into their own entities once more. “Lee would have a bloody fit if he ever knew you so quickly figured things out. The boy has potential, but he is too much like our father. I believe that will be his downfall.”

“I believe underestimating women will be his downfall.”

Killian clicks his tongue and nods. “You see, that stems directly from our father, the bastard of all bastards, and you are correct. Many a man was brought down by the kiss of a woman, but few of them have the smarts to know it was her brain that truly brought them down.”

“And you know that?”

“Aye, I do.”

Emma wants to ask about the woman Ruby mentioned early, but she doesn’t dare. She’s already toeing the lines of danger tonight, and mentioning the deceased woman Killian used to love seems ill advised.

So, she stays quiet and keeps her place, knowing she is one step closer to where she needs to be. She is gaining his trust more and more each day, but she also feels herself slipping into a place from which she cannot return.

Fuck.

-/-

Weeks pass, and the weather chills, Birmingham’s winter quickly creeping upon them. Emma freezes every day on her walk to the pub, but one day a coat appears in a box with her name on it. It is long and warm, and besides her red dress, the nicest thing she owns. Killian never confirms it is from him, but she knows it was. She knows the coat, the gloves, and the scarves are all from him, and while she tells him thank you, he never accepts any of her words. Instead, he invites her more into his life. She knows about the gambling and the illegal businesses of the Jones Corporation, and her knowledge gets her foot in the door.

Everything that happens inside is up to Killian.

He brings her in from the pub to settle arguments, to help with the numbers after he discovers she’s better with them than Rob ever has been, and when Liam goes away for some time to take his wife to visit her family in France, Killian often has Emma sit in Liam’s seat with his hand on her thigh underneath the table.

Killian Jones is not a man who takes his time courting women, but Emma cannot help but feel like that is exactly what is happening with her. It is surely not proper, but there’s too much lingering between them for it to be anything else.

Though, it does always stay lingering, never crossing the line, and Emma finds herself thinking more and more about the woman he loved and the string of women who followed.

She finds her resolve to keep her heart away from him teetering over the edge of no return.

She also thinks of Neal, of how much he promised her, of how much he let her down. He was going to give her a better life, but then he disappeared into the wind, never to be heard from again when she realized she was pregnant.

Surely she must take some blame for her situation, but Emma always remembers that so much of it is because of Neal.

Tonight Killian is allowing singing in the pub. He never does, says it makes the place too cheery when that is not his style of pub, but once a week, he allows the men to sing after she leads them off in whatever song she knows. The joyous mood leads to more drinking, which is more money for them, and she imagines that is the only reason Killian allows it.

If she were a conceited woman, she would say he allows it to hear her sing.

The Joneses and their associates march into the pub, some of them disappearing into the back room, but most come to the main part of the pub, moving around the crowd and disappearing into the thick of it. Emma watches Killian, and she can feel his eyes on her no matter where he is.

He never does come to the bar for long periods of time, not while the place is full of people at least, but then when Arthur Pemberton’s hand gets a little too close to Emma, suddenly Killian is there, standing with her, hand possessively on her hip while he warns Arthur not to let his libations get to him.

“I can handle myself,” Emma hisses when Arthur has stumbled away. “I do not need you.”

“Of that I have no doubt.”

“Then what was that? You wanted to show off who had the bigger cock?”

“Darling, I know that would be me.”

Emma’s head tilts back with feigned, exasperated laughter, but Killian does not seem amused. She waits for him to laugh, for the blue of his eyes to light up, but instead his jaw clenches from beneath his whiskered chin.

“Fancy a song then, sailor?” Emma asks to change the subject and keep them from getting into a row. For all the nights they have spent talking about small little details of their lives and their wishes, so, too, have they spent nights arguing. She knows when they’re on the verge of both.

“Why would I fancy a song?”

“To make you smile.”

“Alright then.” He taps his hand on the bar top before helping Emma up to her new vantage point, arching his brow while he looks at her. “Sing me a song then, lass.”

Emma nods and inhales, knowing the entire room will be listening, but she only focuses on the one man with blue eyes as clear as the ocean on a sunny day.

“In a neat little town they call Belfast, apprentice to trade I was bound. Many an hour’s sweet happiness had I spent in that neat little town. A sad misfortune came over me, which caused me to stray from the land. Far away from my friends and relations, betrayed by the black velvet band. Her eyes, they shone like diamonds. I thought her the queen of the land. And her hair, it hung over her shoulder, tied up with a black velvet band.”

When she finishes, the room is silent, her voice echoing between the four walls, and when she looks at Killian, she can see water in his eyes, a new ocean amongst the blue.

“Another!” someone in the crowd yells, but Emma doesn’t turn away from Killian.

“Oi, the lady sings one song. If you want a new one, sing it yourself!”

Emma chuckles and allows herself to sit down on the bar top, Killian helps her to the ground, her heels clicking against the hardwood. His hand lingers, warmth spreading through her, but as soon as it warms her, it disappears as Killian walks away, disappearing upstairs.

“Are you truly not going to sing us another song?”

Emma rolls her shoulders back and turns around, Leroy standing in front of her. She smiles softly and takes his glass, pouring him another drink. “If you ask me nicely, I just might.”

The night passes quickly, My Fairest Lady filling as it does on this day every week, but eventually everyone leaves, the place emptying as the streets quiet outside, the drunks all returning to their homes or their mistresses. Emma takes her time sweeping up, toeing out of her heels to let her feet rest, and she hums all of the songs sung today, their lyrics filling her usually tired mind.

She doesn’t hear him come in, and it would startle her if he didn’t step directly to her, taking her hands in his and pulling her close, joining in the songs she was singing. She didn’t think he could sing, but he carries a tune almost better than she does.

“I don’t dance,” Emma whispers.

“That is because you have never had a partner who knows what he’s doing.”

“And this partner is you?”

“Aye.”

Emma hasn’t danced in years, and she doesn’t know any of the traditional ones. She would be out of place at a ball for many a reason. She could wear the dress, have the nice man on her arm, but her footing would give her way. One wrong step, and everything would be over.

One wrong step here, she could be dead.

Once more, she has no interest in thinking of the real reason she’s here. She wants to stay in this moment, allowing Killian to sing sweet melodies to her, and she wants to forget about Gold and her mission and everything else.

Emma wants to pretend that for now she is nothing more than a woman dancing with a man she has come to fancy despite herself, no darkness and secrets between them.

What a world that would be.

Emma tilts her head up, looking at Killian, at the softness of his lips and the length of his dark lashes. He is different in this light, softer than his usual hard edges, but Emma knows they are still there, just below the surface.

“I took a stroll down broadway,” Killian sings, continuing her song from earlier, “meaning not long for to stay. When who should I meet but this pretty fair maid come a-traipsing along the highway. She was both fair and handsome. Her neck, it was just like a swan.”

Here, he runs a finger down her neck that ricochets into a tremor down her spine.

“And her hair, it hung over her shoulder, tied up with a black velvet band.”

“I thought you didn’t like music,” Emma whispers as his fingers toy with the ends of her loose hair. She’s enchanted by him, and for once, she isn’t afraid to admit it.

“That’s because not everyone sings like you, love.”

Slowly, Emma presses up on her toes, and her lips go gently over his, feeling the softness that resides there. He lingers, not pushing her forward, but before Emma can do just that, his hand comes to cup the nape of her neck, tilting her head for him to control the kiss. She never did imagine Killian Jones wouldn’t be the one to take charge of a kiss, so no part of this surprises her. He tastes like rum, the alcohol burning her tongue as heat overwhelms her, and Emma is so consumed by him that she doesn’t notice the way he’s backed her across the room until the edge of the bar is pressing into her lower back, leaving a mark that will linger longer than the burning of this kiss.

When Emma gently bites at his bottom lip, he growls, moving his hands to pick her up until she’s resting on the top of the bar. Emma cups his cheeks, the prickle of his beard scratching her palms, but she pays no attention to that when her legs wrap around his back and she feels his hips roll into hers, the firmness of him pressing into her in ways she hasn’t felt in too long.

It feels damn good, and if Emma were a proper woman, she would have stopped this and kept it from going too far.

She is not a proper woman.

Killian, however, seems to be a proper man, because he pulls back, sweat slicked forehead leaning against hers, and then he moves away, putting more space between him than Emma wants now that they’ve finally closed the gap they’ve lingered near since her first day on the job. All she wants now is to feel him pulsing inside of her, creating a rhythm that matches with the beat of her heart and brings her the pleasure she so craves.

“I am not having you on this bar,” he grumbles, his voice deep and hoarse. His hand falls down her back, grabbing onto her hip and pulling her closer to him. “You deserve more.”

“I wouldn’t mind.” And she means it. She once thought that he wouldn’t care enough to take her to a bed, but now she finds she’s the one who doesn’t care. Her blood is running hot, and she would be fine with it right here even if the countertop digs into her arse. “This is fine.”

He kisses her again, all teeth and tongue and rough determination, and she thinks he’s given up on his sense of chivalry, especially when he encourages her to wrap her ankles around him, but then he’s stumbling with the kiss and lifting her off the bar. She gasps at the sudden movement and circles her arms around his neck to keep from falling.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Emma protests, pulling away as Killian runs his mouth down her neck.

“I said I wasn’t having you on this bar, and I meant it. I have a private room upstairs for when I can’t sleep at home.”

There’s a dark hunger in his voice, one that thrums between Emma’s thighs, and while she’d much prefer to walk herself to the room, she allows him to have this moment. Her legs are likely too shaky with desire for her steps to be steady.

This is not what she intended to do when she kissed him, but she should have known. It’s been building for months, and Emma has shown enough restraint.

She is tired of convincing herself that she wants anything other than this. s

When they get to Killian’s room, he lays her down on the bed, and Emma immediately starts unlacing her dress at her breasts as Killian undoes the buttons on his shirt, pulling it off before he leans down to assist her, his tongue and teeth tracing her exposed skin and leaving red marks with all of his kisses. The heat between her thighs is a sharp throb now, and Emma writhes underneath Killian has his mouth touches the hollow of her throat and his hand reaches behind her knee, pulling her up until he drags against her in the perfect way that has them both moaning.

“You have tempted me since the moment you walked in this damn pub asking for a job.”

His mouth is eager with its ministrations, especially when he finds her nipple, and Emma is left searching for words as her heart threatens to beat out of her chest. Snow falls outside, cold white flakes coating the ground, but Emma is nothing but warm. Parts of her feel like she is on fire, and even as things progress and clothes no longer lay on her body, she might as well be wrapped in down blankets with a fire burning next to her and a hot drink in her hand.

Instead, she’s pressing into the mattress, Killian’s hand palming her breast while his mouth goes lower and lower until her back is arching into the air and she’s dragging her nails down his back and up into the soft tresses of his dark head of hair. Sweat is beading down her chest and collecting at her hair, and Emma never thought it would be possible to sweat in December in Birmingham.

“Killian,” she moans when he does something sinful with his tongue. “Oh fuck.”

He doesn’t say anything back, simply keeps working how he’s working, and for a long while, it’s like the pleasure is never going to end. It’s a constant working up and up and up until she’s dangling off the cliff, ready to let go.

Killian barely gives her any time to recover from her fall before he’s working his way back up her body, settling over her and settling against her so she can feel him bare where she wants him. Emma licks a stripe up his neck, salt on her tongue, and he grunts in response, rolling his hips against hers until both of them are messes.

Shifting beneath him, Emma moves until Killian is face to face with her, his lips lingering over hers and his wild, sweat slicked hair in front of her. She imagines her hair is tangled as well, and it’ll likely never be the same.

“Hello, beautiful,” he whispers, cupping her cheek with his hand.

“So, this isn’t the bar anymore,” Emma jokes, looking for levity in a moment that seems heavy.

“No, no it isn’t.”

They’re both quiet as he presses into her in a slick stretch of heat, and Emma immediately spreads her legs wider for a better fit, allowing him to settle. He’s thick and heavy inside of her, and Emma digs her nails into his back, holding on tight as she moves her hips to get a more perfect fit.

She is going to leave her mark with him tonight, red scars from her nails stretching across his back.

“You are wonderful.” He kisses her again, muttering soft words while his hips start moving, creating a rhythm that might just burn Emma alive, especially when Killian’s hand slides down to her arse and helps himself slide in deeper. “So fucking wonderful.”

“You are too.”

He groans above her, and his hips become that little bit more frantic as his chest hair creates friction against her breasts. This is the best Emma has felt in months, maybe even years, and she wants to chase this high for as long as she can, even as she feels herself tumbling over with each thrust of Killian’s hip and swipe of his thumb as his lips devour hers, only stopping to mutter filthy encouragements.

This is not how she expected today to go.

She wouldn’t change it for a thing.

Her skin is boiling now, and if the curtains were closed, Emma wouldn’t know it was winter outside. Sweat is slicked everywhere, but she doesn’t care.

She doesn’t care about anything except how good it feels when Killian engraves her name into the side of her neck as he succumbs to pleasure as well, his bodyweight pressing down on her, melding them from two to one.

After, Killian is gentle when he helps her clean up, and they settle underneath the blankets. Emma presses her right leg between his and rests her cheek against his collarbone as her fingers tread through the dark hair on his chest. She moves it around from where sweat has matted it, and she traces the red scars that make up so much of him. They look almost silver in the moonlight.

They look stunning.

Emma feels lips press to her temple, and she smiles, burying her face in his neck and breathing him in.

Happy. This is what happiness feels like. It’s been so long that it surprises her.

“I have to go.”

It’s like she’s been slapped.

“Sorry?”

“I have to go,” Killian repeats, but Emma can’t quite come to terms with the words. “I have…business to attend to.”

Her walls immediately come back up, brick by brick.

“You have business to attend to? Seriously? What the fuck kind of excuse is that? What? You fuck me and then leave? Were you using me because – ”

Emma pulls back away from him, sitting up and pulling the blankets with her, and Killian stays settled against the headboard, hands behind his head. “I had this business before I slept with you. Believe me, there is nothing I would rather do than stay in bed with you until I’m bloody dragged out of it, but I have to do this tonight.”

Emma scoffs and crawls out of the bed, getting finding her undergarments. “I’m coming with you.”

“Swan.”

“If I’m jumping into bed with you, I want to know the exact details of the man I’m jumping into bed with.”

He arches his brow, mouth curling into a smirk as his head nods to how exposed he is. “It may be a little too late for that now.”

Emma should be flustered, but she’s not. She’s determined that she won’t be left behind.

Her hands fall to her hips. “That depends on if you let me come with you.”

“Grab your damn coat and a scarf. You’ll freeze without them.”

“Are you a gentleman now?”

He clicks his tongue. “I’m always a gentleman.”

They take Killian’s carriage, only with him driving this time instead of the two of them sitting in the back, and they don’t speak wherever it is they’re going. Anticipation courses through her veins, gooseflesh spreading across her skin wherever it can reach, and a lump permanently lodges itself in her throat. She doesn’t know what to think, what to feel, and when they drive to a graveyard, Emma is certainly confused. When Killian grabs a shovel out of the back and leads her to his mother’s grave, her skin crawls for a reason entirely unrelated to the cold.

“She’s not buried here.”

“Oh?”

“No. I had a stone made, but she is closer to the ocean. It’s the place she loved the most.”

“Then what is – ”

Emma doesn’t bother finishing her question when she sees the gleam of guns underneath the moonlight. Her heart drops to the pit of her stomach, and for all that Emma has pushed away her thoughts of Gold and his threats lingering over her, there is no denying them now.

She found the guns.

Rather, Killian showed her.

She knows where they are, and by sunrise, she could be out of this place and out of this damn deal.

But Emma knows better than to think she’ll truly be free from Gold. He’ll find her again and bring with him new threats, and she’d be a fool to think otherwise.

Life as a moll has not seemed too bad lately, especially now that she knows how Killian feels when he kisses her, but she’s still torn between two places.

If she tells Gold where the guns are, she’ll be under his control for the rest of her life.

If she tells Killian, he’ll surely kill her.

For a moment, she contemplates a third option, one where she both keeps her breath and is able to truly live. It would never work, however. Gold would manipulate her, and she’d spend her entire life leading a double life, betraying the man who has obviously given her his trust.

The strange thing is, she has given him the same.

It’s not enough, and Emma, surrounded by all these graves, already knows she will have no headstone. There will be no one to mourn her.

She needs time to figure things out, and she’s running out of time.

Emma floats through the rest of the night, not knowing what she’s saying or doing, and when Killian leaves her at her flat with a resounding kiss that shakes her to her core, she thinks of running away with him. It should be easy. She’s been doing it her entire life.

“It’s late,” Killian whispers, “You should go inside and get some rest, but tomorrow, I have different plans for you.”

“Oh?”

He kisses her again, warming every bit of her body that is chilled. “Goodnight, my love.”

“Goodnight, Killian.”

Emma exits his carriage and walks into her building, a smile on her face until she unlocks her door.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Fuck,” Emma mutters, her senses coming back to her as Gold stands across from her. She hasn’t seen him since the last time he broke in, but he’s here now.

It’s too late for her to run away.

She is no longer floating through tonight.

“Where have you been?” Gold asks, his voice as cold as the snow outside.

“Working.”

“I noticed that Killian Jones himself drove you home.” The floor creaks underneath him, and his cane thumps against the floor at the same beat as her heart. “Interesting that. You didn’t come from the direction of the pub either.”

“We went for a drive.” Emma takes off her coat in an attempt at nonchalance.

“To where exactly, dearie?”

“Around the town. Nowhere in particular.”

“Is that so?” He steps closer and taps his cane. Emma doesn’t have a gun on her. She can’t risk anyone finding it at work, but she knows Gold has one on him. Fuck. She doesn’t even have her knife today, and they’re both across the room where Gold is. “Would your drive happened to have gone near the cemetery?”

Emma’s skin goes colder than the outside weather could ever make it, and it is difficult to keep her breath from shallowing.

She’s been caught, and Gold is most likely going to kill her for her disloyalty to him.

“The guns are in Allison Jones’s grave.”

She had to tell him. She had no other option.

She hates herself for it.

“That is what I needed to know. Meet me in Nottingham in a week. I’ll have a new assignment for you then.”

Emma nods and backs against the wall as Gold moves around her, his hand turning the knob on her front door. “What are you going to do with the guns? Return them to Churchill?” she asks against her better judgment.

He laughs, and gooseflesh appears on her arms and down her legs, pebbling her skin as nausea settles in her throat. “Well, I’m going to return them to Churchill, of course, but not before I have a little fun with Killian Jones. Wouldn’t you know that a gang leader was mysteriously shot in his home in the middle of the night? Must have been one of his many enemies that did it.”

“Why?” Emma whispers.

Gold smiles. “Jones is known for sleeping with another man’s wife years ago, and well, I was that other man.”

And then he’s gone, limping out of the room with that slow, aching walk of his. Emma feels as if she’s been slapped across the cheek by his cane, and she immediately turns to her sink, releasing her insides and heaving, waiting for her breath to come back.

It never truly does.

Gold’s carriage sputters to life outside as Emma heaves once more, and even though her brain is functioning at half of its capacity, she knows what she needs to do.

She has to tell Killian.

Everyone in town knows what he does is illegal, but there’s no proof of his family’s crimes. They make it all as legal as possible through their legitimate businesses, and often the local coppers are on their side.

Gold, Churchill, and the Constabulary on not on their side.

Gold is going to murder him just like he murdered his wife.

Emma grabs her coat, shrugging it on as she runs out the door, and she wishes she had a carriage. She doesn’t however, so as snow falls down around her, Emma runs through the streets of Birmingham, taking the alleys she frequents so often, to get to Killian’s home. She’s only been there a few times, nearly all of it for business reasons, but she knows the way.

Her lungs are heavy, her breath short, and her feet ache from the heels of her boots. She imagines frostbite is hitting her toes, but she can’t stop. She was foolish and allowed herself to develop feelings for this man, to fall in love with him in the midst of all her protests otherwise, and she can’t let him get arrested.

She certainly cannot allow him to be murdered. Gold has an agenda against him, and Emma knows the only reason Killian isn’t dead is because he wanted the guns first to cover up his crimes.

Fuck.

When Emma comes across the house, she runs into the door, banging her fist against the wood before picking up the clapper and hitting it. It seems like hours before anyone comes to the door, but eventually someone does, Lee opening it with his gun in his hand.

“What the bloody hell are you doing here?” he grumbles.

“Where’s your brother?”

“If you’re here to fuck him, you’ll have to get in line.”

“What?” Emma gawks, her heart still pounding. She knows he’s fucking with her, but of all the people she doesn’t fully trust, Lee Jones is near the top of the list. She’s heard Killian talk about his similarities to their father too much to think of him as trustworthy. “No, it doesn’t matter. I need to talk to Killian.”

“If it’ll get you to be quiet, fine. First door on the right upstairs.”

Emma nods and hurries up the stairs, her steps as loud as a heard of elements, and while she does hesitate to enter his room because of Lee’s words, she still does. He’s sitting in his bed, alone, and now is really not the time for her to be focusing on how Lee is constantly trying to fuck with her because he spent too much time with their arse of a father.

“Swan? Bloody hell. What are you doing here?”

She may get murdered for this, but she’s trusting that she won’t. Maybe he’ll understand that she’s done him wrong in the past, but she’s trying to save his life now.

“Robert Gold.”

Killian immediately sits straighter and moves the blankets off him until he’s standing in front of her, looming. “How do you know that name?”

Emma rolls her shoulders back, the adrenaline pushing her words forward.

“I got pregnant when I was sixteen, and I didn’t have a job or a family. I had nothing. I heard of this man who could help with discreet adoptions, get the baby into a good home, you know? So I went to Robert Gold, and he took care of me and my baby, and he found the kid a family who could love him. I believed I didn’t owe him any debts, but he’s threatened to hurt me and my son if I don’t do what he says. I don’t think he’d hurt the kid anymore because I now know the kid’s parents are in the government, but I know he’ll hurt me.”

Emma starts pacing. She can’t look at Killian. She cannot look at the blue she loves so much because it is surely about to turn black while looking at her.

That would break her heart.

“I’ve been working for him. This entire time. He had me gain employ at your pub to learn the location of the guns you stole from the arms factory. All this time I thought it was because Churchill wanted them so they could send them to where they were intended. But tonight Gold was in my flat after following us to the cemetery, and he told me you had slept with his wife, which means the man who shot his wife and your lover in front of you was Gold. He’s going after the guns, Killian. He’s going to get them, and then he’s coming here to either kill you for your crimes against him or arrest you for your crimes against the Crown. Either way, he’s going to kill you.”

Emma doesn’t notice the silence between them as her heart is still pounding like the loudest of drums, but the silence is surely there, being filled second by second with Killian’s rage toward her and toward Gold.

She gained his trust, and then she betrayed him.

“Why are you telling me this?” he whispers, his voice as even keeled as she’s ever heard it.

She nearly falls to the ground at the sound of it.

“Pardon?”

“Turn around and look at me.” Emma braces her shoulders and turns, having no idea what she’s about to see, but she imagines it will be a low-burning fury. She’s wrong. “If you were anyone else in the world, I would have your head for this. I don’t take betrayals lightly, and I will not take this one lightly even though I understand what it is like to be under Gold's thumb. Do not be fooled. But for fucks sake, Emma, I love you. I haven’t loved a woman since Milah was taken from me, but I love you. I also believe all sins can be forgiven when you love someone, but that does not mean I forgive you tonight.”

Emma doesn’t know what to do or think.

There are too many thoughts stampeding in her mind, and she isn’t caught up with it enough to process it all. For now, all she can think is she isn’t dead.

But Killian may be soon.

“What are you going to do about Gold?” Emma asks even when she meant to say something else entirely. She meant to say the three words that reside at the tip of her tongue, but they keep being pushed back.

More important matters are at hand.

“How long ago did he leave your flat to go after the guns?”

“I don’t know. I ran here as soon as he left.”

Killian nods and cups her cheek, kissing her soundly, before he turns around and starts pulling luggage from his drawers before quickly grabbing onto clothes. “Find a few warm things for you. Quickly.”

“Why? What the hell is happening?”

“It’s not safe for us here. We have to go until I can figure something out. There isn’t time to ask every bloody question.”

Lee comes rushing into the room at the same time that Emma grabs a thick blanket and some of Killian’s shirts and what she can only assume are clothes women left here. She doesn’t have much time to process that particular fact. “What the fuck are you two doing?”

“We have to go. Gold is coming after us. Pack a bag and start the carriage.”

“What about Liam? He’s in France. We have to warn him.”

“Liam isn’t set to come back until February. We’ll have time to get him a message. Gold is only coming after me for now. Go, go, we don’t have much time.”

“I thought we didn’t run from a challenge.”

Killian’s jaw clenches, and he turns to face his younger brother. “We’re not running. We’re allowing me to conjure a plan so we don’t get our heads blown off. Fucking go or I’ll leave you here!”

Lee nods, and then he’s out of the room, his footsteps echoing in the hallway for a quick moment before he’s heading out the door and the carriage turns on with a rumble. Emma’s collected enough clothes to last her weeks, and she watches as Killian stashes money into his suitcase before handing some to her.

“For if we get separated,” he explains.

“Where are we going?”

“I have a place in mind, but I can’t tell you yet. Now, come on, go get in the carriage. He works fast, and he shows no mercy, as I’m sure you know. Don’t worry, love. We’ll be fine. I’m a survivor.”

Killian’s hand finds Emma’s back, and as they walk down the stairs, she takes in the beauty of his home. A lot of love has been put into it, and by all accounts, it looks more like a house than a home.

Emma would have liked to have this place as a home. She’s still aching for that place she can call her own.

Now is not the time to think of that.

The cold hits her when they walk outside, and it doesn’t fade away when she climbs into the carriage next to Killian, Lee sitting behind them. Emma clutches onto her luggage, her knuckles white but her fingers pink, and Killian quickly reaches down and hands her a pair of gloves. She takes them without protest, and in the dead of night, she begins moving with the Jones brothers, leaving a white-covered Birmingham behind them.

She doesn’t know what’s going to happen to anyone, not to William or Rob or any of the other Jones Corporation associates. Gold will surely go after them to try to learn of Killian’s whereabouts, hers too, but there’s not time to drive to their homes and tell them. They’re smart and resourceful. They’ll figure things out. At least, Emma hopes so.

There’s no way for them to avoid Gold forever. Emma knows firsthand that he has connections across Europe with his ties to the government, and he’ll never stop until he gets to Killian. She has so many questions about what happened between Killian and Gold’s wife, a woman he obviously loved, but now is not the time for questions when she’s being driven to who knows where, every breath she bringing her one closer to her last.

Now is not the time for a lot of things, but since she didn’t say it earlier, Emma whispers a quiet “I love you,” not knowing if Killian or the wind catches it.

When he places his hand on her thigh, the comforting movement he’s been doing for months now, she thinks she knows.

Emma’s exhausted, but she dares not fall asleep. Instead she sits silently, Killian’s hand still on her thigh, and she watches the sun rise, bright lights reflecting against the pureness of some of the snow. In some places, it is nothing more than slush, but in others, it is beautiful. She can smell water around them, the salt of the ocean becoming clearer with each passing minute, and eventually, she can see the budding activity in a port, a large ship waiting in the water as people walk on board.

“Where are we going?” Emma asks.

Killian turns to her and flashes a tired but bright smile. “America, my love.”

-/-

-/-

tag list: @qualitycoffeethings​ @mrtinski​ @klynn-stormz​ @scarletslippers​ @jonirobinson64​ @snowbellewells​ @therealstartraveller776​ @thejollyroger-writer​  @sherifemma​ @galaxyzxstark​ @galadriel26​ @idristardis​ @karenfrommisthaven​ @teamhook​ @spartanguard​ @searchingwardrobes​ @jamif​ @shireness-says​ @ultimiflos​ @nikkiemms​ @onepunintendid​ @bluewildcatfanatic​ @superchocovian​ @killianswannn​ @carpedzem​ @captainkillianswanjones​ @mayquita​ @mariakov81​ @jennjenn615​ @onceuponaprincessworld​ @a-faekindagirl​ @scientificapricot​ @xellewoods​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @stahlop​ @kmomof4​ @tiganasummertree​ @singersdd​ @tornadoamy​ @cluttermind​ @lfh1226-linda​ @andiirivera​ @itsfabianadocarmo​ @captain-emmajones​

[apocalypseornaw]

Ending/Beginning

For the enemies to lovers square on @girl-next-door-writes make me feel bingo

Inspired by the show revolution (sort of) y'all I'm nervous AF to post this cause it's reader x OC but i hope y'all like it

Word count: 10,247 it long

Warnings: Cursing, violence

The apocalypse, the end of the world. Everything as it was known coming to an end. No matter how you wanted to describe it that time was now. You never would’ve dreamed that the end of the world wouldn’t have been fire or ice. No the world ended a lot quieter than that. No dead rose, no monsters crawled out of hell. Electricity simply went away, all the power sources that ran everything went off grid. You watched as the world slowly plummeted into turmoil. You had your group, all of you would fight to the death for each other, you believed that somehow humanity could survive the problem was not every group believed as yours did.Good and evil, things that at one time had clearly been black and white were now washed in shades of grey.

You were on guard duty, walking the length of the walls that surrounded the compound you called home. A team had left a few days before and had yet to return. You were getting more anxious as the days drug on. You finally spotted movement towards the east and ran quietly along the wall so as to not bring any alert to anyone walking below. When you spotted the group missing some of its main members breach the treeline you felt the knot in the pit of your stomach double in size.  “OPEN THE GATES” you screamed quickly climbing down the ladder running the moment your boots hit the dirt to meet the horses as they came inside. “Where are they?” you asked Sam before he ever got the chance to dismount. Your eyes flicked across the group that were with him clocking the injuries on each person, Sam included. You’d grown up with the Winchesters brothers, all three of you practically being raised by Bobby They were the closest thing to family you had and Dean’s absence along with Charlie’s and Garth’s was glaringly obvious to anyone. 

“We were ambushed. They took them and left a message for Bobby” he explained coming to stand next to you before handing his horse off to someone else so they could see to it that the animals all of you had come to rely on was taken care of. “Which is?” you pushed but he glanced around at the growing crowd “Not here, come with me” you followed him through the compound not falling behind despite his height advantage on you. You had a feeling what fate had befallen your friends and the rage gnawing at you was growing larger every second that passed. 

When Sam grabbed your arm and pulled you into Bobby’s quarters he glanced up from cleaning a gun and smiled when he saw the two of you but his face quickly fell when he realized Dean was not in tow and that Sam had visible injuries. “What happened?” he asked and you cut your eyes at Sam silently echoing the same question. “Kaper’s men. They found out about the power core” “SON OF A BITCH” you growled kicking a chair across the floor. 

Josiah Kaper was about the furthest you could get from Bobby as a leader went. Where Bobby was trying to push for a way for humanity to somehow dig itself out from under the shit show that had developed in the world Josiah wanted nothing more than to find a way to benefit from it. 

He had three sons David the oldest who from your run-ins with him honestly didn’t want to be associated with his father’s name he’d even helped you out of a tight spot years back when everything started falling apart in the world. Then was the middle son Jonah who was ruthless and heartless. You had a scar running the length of your left arm from the only run-in you’d ever had with him. Had Dean not been so quick on the trigger you wouldn’t have walked away, a few members of your group hadn’t. Dante the youngest son who was closest to your age you’d never had any run-ins with but this attack was personal. Bobby wanted the power core to develop a better hospital system. You’d lost a few people simply for the fact that without any power source the doctors you had didn’t have the equipment they needed to perform some surgeries. Not to mention having to stay off the radar of the militia, didn’t want any of them getting it in their heads that your group had anything they may want.

Dean had figured out a few alternatives but even the best mind couldn’t solve everything on it’s own. Josiah on the other hand, you could only imagine what he wanted with the core. 

“Give me a team, we’ll get them back without having to deal with Josiah” You spoke without a second thought. Either of the three they’d taken would come for you so you owed it to them. “What’s your plan?” Bobby asked so you shrugged “They know I’m one of yours, same as Sam and Dean. Makes a bullseye on me so I play decoy while my team locates and releases Dean, Charlie and Garth” “And if they manage to get their hands on you too?” Sam questioned so you shot him a wink “Oh ye of little faith. Don’t worry Sammy they’ll never get close enough to lay a finger on me” Bobby stared you down for what felt like an eternity before nodding “Ok but sweetheart do me a favor?” “Yes sir?” you asked so he half smiled “Make it back in one piece”

"I'm coming with you" Sam spoke and you shook your head motioning to the visible marks on him "No you're gonna go to medical and get checked over. I'm going to go poke around and see if the ones I have in mind for this are up to it, I have no doubt they will be but I still give them the courtesy of asking" 

------

You knew Alicia and Max would be at the front of the line to volunteer to go as soon as word spread. They had long since been your best friends and considering Charlie was Alicia’s girlfriend there would have been no leaving the twins behind even if they hadn’t been on your top pick to go. 

Kevin and Claire were easy picks as well. Kevin, that damn kid you swore could blow up a mountain with some baking soda and vinegar. As fair as for Claire there hadn’t been a lock you met she couldn’t get through fast and easy.  Rounding out your band of misfits as Bobby so lovingly called you all was Benny. He was a big dude, a damn good fighter and not scared of a lot. 

“So what’s the plan?” Sam asked looking at the map you’d spread out across the table in his and Eileen’s quarters. “I know Kaper and I know Dean. If they’re managing to actually hold him, Garth and Charlie, it's gotta be here” you pointed to a building near the northern wall of Josiah’s compound. “The problem is where as we as a group try to steer clear of the militia, he supplies them with pretty much anything they want to look the other way on him pilfering anything he can from the old power sources that’s been uncovered where the rest of us are barely scraping” “So you’re looking at the possibility of heavy firepower” Eileen guessed and you nodded glancing up to make sure you were facing her as you spoke “That’s where I come in. I draw their fire so to speak here” you pointed to the end of the compound furthest from the building you suspected your people were being held in. “By yourself?” she questioned and you knew she didn’t like your plan anymore than Sam or Bobby had. “I’ll be fine Eileen. I promise. By the time they realize I’m there everyone else will be in position. Once they have our people I’ll draw them out further and chunk a few of Kevin’s presents out amongst their ranks just to stir some fun up”

“And if something happens to block your path back around to meet up with everyone else?” Sam asked so you shrugged nonchalantly “Well I can honestly say I will make em earn it and I fully expect the lot of you to give em hell in return” “You’re insane” Eileen reasoned and you smiled at her “That, my dear is part of my charm!”

-------

Kaper’s compound wasn’t set up much differently than the one all of you lived in, the only difference being where when your compound was first established you went for the comfort of the many while it was clear Josiah went for the comfort of himself. His people had well enough living quarters but the building in the center was twice as plush as everyone else’s and while there were guards on their walls the same as yours he also had guards in front of his quarters.

The cement building against the northern corner of the wall was where they kept prisoners. There had been more than one scouting mission around Kaper’s compound to have a basic understanding of what was where. Luckily for your group there was a series of caves not far from the compound that could offer you shelter off the main road while you strategized one final time before actually putting your plan into action.  

------

You tied your horse Helios at the head of the cave then walked deeper in where Benny had built a low fire. He was crouched down looking at the map you’d gotten Alex to sketch out. “Tell me this plan one more time” You could feel the twins and Claire watching you when Benny spoke. Kevin was doing some final touches to his part of the plan so he was preoccupied. You squatted next to Benny and pointed towards the prisoner quarters. 

“That’s where they’ll have Dean, Charlie and Garth” he nodded so you then pointed towards the eastern gate that was closest to Josiah’s quarters “I’m going to get their attention here, draw the main guards out. I’ll use a few of Kev’s low grade toys so as to cause more chaos than actual loss of life, just enough to make everyone look at me. In the meantime all of you will head in over here” you pointed towards where the western and northern wall met “There’s a weak spot unless they’ve fixed it in the last month which I seriously doubt. Even if they did, Kev has a corrosive to make a hole big enough for all of you to slip in, find our people and get the hell out” “Promise me one thing though darling?” he asked so you tilted your head to look at him “Name it Lafitte”

“If something goes south where you’re concerned wait for me at the gate because the moment Dean finds out I agreed to let you do this I won’t be far behind”  You offered him a small smile “Oh come on now he won’t kill ya” he raised an eyebrow that was clearly a nonverbal way of disagreeing but Kevin walked over about that time and handed you a canvas bag “The pipe bombs won’t cause a lot of damage but if you get in a tight spot grab a few of the round ones and chunk em. They’ll take out anything within a ten foot blast zone” You thanked him then stood up and glanced around. Claire held your gaze for a moment while both twins gave you a sharp nod “I’m not one for rousing speeches so I’ll just say wish me luck and remember if all else fails give em hell and make em earn it” 

Claire rolled her eyes “Christ Y/N, Dean gives better pre-fight speeches than that!” you shrugged “And that is why I’m going to get him back” 

------

You stopped at the perimeter of the treeline that was your last bit of cover before the guards would spot you. You and Benny had agreed on a five minute mark to make sure they were in place. You pulled the old wind up pocket watch out of your jeans and glanced to see it had been exactly five minutes. Well now or never.

You clicked your tongue and Helios trotted forward. The guards spotted you the moment you left the cover of the trees and hollered “STOP THERE. WHAT’S YOUR BUSINESS?” you stopped but slid your hand into the canvas bag “I CAME TO DELIVER A MESSAGE” you lit the first pipe bomb and chunked it over the wall. It landed at the first guard’s feet causing him to topple backwards down to the dirt.

The guards and inhabitants of the compound went into a flurry of motion so you rode down the wall throwing just enough pipe bombs over to ensure every guard was paying attention to the “threat” at the eastern wall and not the rescue party at the northwestern wall. 

Once the gates opened and guards started pouring out, some on foot but most on horseback you lit one more pipe bomb and threw it in their general direction before hollering “CATCH ME IF YOU CAN ASSHOLES” then clicked your tongue again gently kicking Helios' sides as she took off at a gallop for the trees hearing the shouts of the guards following you. ‘Good keep all your eyes on me’ you thought to yourself as you leaned down closer to Helios to avoid limbs that were threatening to whip across your face as you rode deeper into the woods.

------

Benny and Claire had told you they didn’t need longer than eight minutes to get in, find your people and get out. Of course playing a game of solo mouse versus about twenty guards who were the cats was easier said than done.

Helios went around a tree and muscle memory alone was the only thing keeping you on her back. You fumbled for the watch again and saw six minutes had passed. Christ you still had two more minutes to keep them close enough that they would stay in pursuit but far enough that they couldn’t catch you. 

You were getting close to the lake that was nearby so you headed in that direction. You had two pipe bombs left in the bag and two of those round ones for a tight spot as Kevin had put it. When you got close to the water’s edge you slowed her enough to let the guards catch up slightly and muttered a prayer under your breath before throwing one of the round ones into the water’s edge then kicked her sides again. She tore out in a gallop and you could feel the water from the blast hit your back followed by a lot of cursing. From the sounds of it you hadn’t killed anyone but you’d discouraged their chase and hopefully disoriented them enough that by the time they got back to the compound the smoke would have cleared. 

------

Dark was falling and they’d never attempt to go after all of you once it fell completely. You had the advantage, your people were more used to the dark than Kaper’s because you only used the power sources you had sparingly. Your plan was to double back around to the caves where everyone was waiting for you. Benny was under strict orders that if you weren’t there within ten minutes of them arriving to knock Dean out if need be to make him leave you behind.

You didn’t expect to see a lone rider waiting not far from the lake. You thought your eyes were playing tricks on you when the large black horse first moved, thinking it was a trick of the light and a shadow. A horse that size shouldn’t move that quietly.

You clicked your tongue and tugged the reins in the opposite direction but when Helios pitched the other way the black horse simply gave chase. Shit who the hell was that? You could hear your heart beating in your ears. You had no choice but to lead whoever it was away from your people. There was no telling the shape everyone was in considering if they managed to keep those three contained they may have even gone to the extent of drugging them.  

You had to slow when you got into the thicket of the woods because in the lowering light you could barely see where you were going. You felt something hit your left shoulder hard a half second before you were falling from Helios trying to brace yourself against the shock of the fall. You grunted when you hit the dirt then rolled to be in more of a defensive posture. You could hear the other horse slow before the sound of boots hitting the dirt hard met your ears.

You clicked your tongue trying to get Helios to circle around but before you could get back onto her you heard someone say “I’ll be damned, a woman did all that?” you spun to face the voice and cursed when you saw the gun pointed loosely in your direction. He was a couple inches taller than you, nice athletic built and clearly a fighter. There was still enough light you could make out the bit of stubble gracing his jaw line and the way his eyes held you made you fight the urge to look away. There was something vaguely familiar about him.Hell had he not been pointing a gun at you and from Kaper’s group you would’ve called him attractive but at the moment he simply had a target on him for you to figure out how to get out of this spot with both of you still breathing. 

“And to think we’re called the weaker sex?” you replied with a defiant tilt of your head despite the fact that his gun was out and pointed and yours was still resting at your lower back. He chuckled slightly “You’re one of Singer’s. Y/N isn't it?” you smiled and held your arms out “How can you say that for certain that I'm not just simply a thief that happened along at an opportune time?” “Because I know for a fact that Dean Winchester along with two more of Singer’s group was in our grasp”

It suddenly hit you why the man across from you looked vaguely familiar “You’re Kaper's other son” he nodded slowly “Dante Kaper at your service sweetheart” You narrowed your eyes at him “Stow the sweetheart bullshit. I’ve got a scar from your brother and I was one of the lucky ones that day. I know the type of man you are” He nodded then motioned to his horse with the gun in his hand “Well in that case why don’t you hop on up there?”

“Kill me first, that’s the only way” He reached out to grab your arm and you let him because you knew getting close enough was your only chance of getting free. He pulled you back against his chest “I don’t want to hurt you but the same way that your people hate mine, you just blew up half our wall and knocked most of my guards on their ass” “Oh well” you muttered before throwing your elbow back as hard as you could at his midsection and was rewarded with the sound of his gun being dropped to the dirt as a grunt left him “Should’ve known it’d be a hand to hand thing”

You  spun around to face him and narrowly avoided his return blow. You swung on him but he caught your arm then swept your legs out from under you when you went down you managed to kick your leg out as soon as your back hit the dirt and it connected with his leg. “Son of a bitch” you groaned, pushing yourself to your feet. You started to make a run for it but Dante recovered faster than you would’ve hoped. He was on his feet and grabbing you before you could make it two steps. 

The moment he spun you around to face him you swung and connected a solid punch to his jaw. He staggered just a moment then kicked out and managed to connect with your stomach. You went with the blow letting your own momentum take you down. You were counting on his arrogance being his downfall and that proved to ring true when he came to stand over you “Guess you can’t hang with the men huh sweetheart?” “Don’t you wish” you replied, kicking out hard to catch him dead center in the crotch.  The moment he went down to his knees you took off running and whistled for Helios. She came running up so you hoisted yourself onto her back “Let’s go” she galloped away and you could barely hear the hollered curses from Dante as he faded from your sight.

------

When you got closer to the caves you checked the time that had passed and cursed under your breath. God if they had to knock Dean out to get him to leave you behind it was going to get really messy when he came to. 

You slowed Helios down to a trot and whistled the tune you and Benny always used when you were on the same team. After a few seconds you heard the whistle repeated so you urged her forward.

You hopped down at the head of the cave and saw the other horses tied up. You tied her next to Claire’s horse then walked into the cave entrance. The moment you came into view you were snatched into a hug from Charlie. “Y/N!” you couldn’t help but smile at seeing her mostly unscathed. There were clear signs of the fight when they’d been taken but beyond that it appeared as though Kaper hadn’t attempted to torture them. You’d gotten there before that point. 

Once she released you Garth was there slapping your hand in a high five “Now that’s what I call a rescue mission ma’am!” you winked at him but your smile quickly fell when Dean stepped away from the corner where he’d been talking with Benny. Your eyes skimmed across him clocking the cut over his eye, the bruising on the side of his face and just how bloodied his knuckles were “I call that insanity. What the hell were you thinking?” you grimaced slightly at his tone bracing yourself before saying “I call that pulling your ass out the fire, same as you’ve done for pretty much all of us” 

He studied you for a second before a grin split his face and he pulled you into a hug “Kid you are completely insane but damn I would’ve loved to see Kaper’s face when those pipe bombs started going off” you touched your stomach where you caught a boot from Dante and Dean tracked your movements with his eyes “What happened?” Benny who had been silent stepped up behind you and when he touched your left shoulder it was only then that you realized the branch that had knocked you off Helios had torn through your jacket and shirt. “I officially met Dante Kaper”

“Did you kick his ass?” Max asked and you shrugged “I’d have to say that meeting was fifty, fifty. I got away from him because he underestimated me and got kicked in the family jewels as a reward for it” Alicia covered her mouth as she laughed “In that case I’d say you won it” You glanced around eyeing the lot of them. Out the rescue team from the looks of it none of them had even been in a fight. Benny’s knuckles weren’t even bloodied. Kevin was a little windblown but that was because he’d been at the forefront of any explosions they’d set off. “All of us are in one piece and can make it home. I call that a win” 

Ninety percent of the time you tried your best to abide by what few rules were in place. You as one of Bobby’s surrogate kids had to be on your best behaviour to show everyone else in your compound that all was treated equal but when a meeting was being held to arrange an escort to Denver for a supply run to the encampment there and you weren’t invited it more than pissed you off.

You stood in front of the meeting room door for several minutes trying to talk yourself out of what you were about to do. It didn’t work of course. You started to walk away then said screw it and shoved the door open. Bobby,Sam, Dean,Benny and Jody were sitting around a table marking the route off. “Took her longer than I thought it would” Benny admitted with a nod to Dean.

Jody raised an eyebrow at you “Y/N? Bobby said you weren’t feeling too well” you cut your eyes at Bobby who shook his head “Don’t even start kid. You know you can’t go on this run” “Why not? When have I suddenly become persona non grata?” “When you went a few rounds with a Kaper” Dean answered for Bobby.

You barked out a harsh laugh then drew the chair from next to Sam and sat down “Then I guess you nor Charlie nor Garth is going on this run either then? Because while they didn’t see the crew that busted you out they know you got out” 

Sam sighed and turned slightly in his chair to face you “Still turns back around to you Y/N. Since they in fact didn’t see the crew they probably assumed you set some sort of timer to bust the whole in the back wall before getting their attention on the front. Them taking the three of them goes against the agreement set forth by the militia so they can’t exactly report it but they more than likely have a grudge against the person who blew half their wall up and knocked most of their guards and one of Kaper’s sons flat on his ass”  You leaned forward on your elbows and glanced around the table.

Dean and Benny immediately shared a look from the expression on your face and Bobby closed his eyes with an exasperated sigh before you ever spoke “So you’re telling me that lil ol me gets the credit for pulling off a rescue mission, destroying their over the top wall that wasn’t even very functional to begin with and kicking Dante’s ass all on my own. Hmm sounds to me like I need to go along Kaper’s men may think twice about messing with the crew if they spot me with them”

“If we don’t let her go we all know either she’ll saddle Helios and follow us anyways or get into something worse” Dean finally said and Jody winked at you “Well you boys may need some backup” “Don’t encourage her!” Bobby groaned then waved a hand at you “Go grab your gear. Dean will round up everyone else” you stood up and winked at Jody before walking out.

------

You were riding behind Benny towards the back of the wagon. It would be left with the encampment so the trip back would be cut by a day. Everyone was talking to whoever was closest to them or just keeping an eye on the surrounding area. Once the supplies were handed off and inside walls the militia weren’t as prone to mess with them but out here in the open it was a more free game.

There was a reason why you, Alicia and Max had spent weeks mapping out the natural caves along any routes all of you took. If you couldn’t find an old building with a garage area for the cart you would park it inside of the cave then make camp outside of it where anyone looking to steal would have to go past whoever was on guard at the moment and everyone sleeping.

“Benny you got this for a minute?” you asked and he cut his eyes at you and nodded “Yeah I got this darling. Guess you’re gonna poke at Dean a lil bit?” you grinned and clicked your tongue so Helios headed in the direction you pointed her which was the head of your group where Dean was looking as stoic as ever while keeping an eye on his surroundings.

He barely acknowledged your presence but you knew that he knew you were there. “Are you really mad at me for getting you out?” you asked and he shook his head. 

You knew he wasn’t but you were going to make him say the words out loud. “I’m pissed off at you for putting yourself at risk like that. What if those guards would’ve caught up with you? Or what if Dante would’ve actually won that fight?”

“Then you would’ve come and got me. It would’ve gone a lot bloodier than my method but I have faith that worse case scenario you would’ve made Kaper regret the day he was born” Dean was quiet for a moment before finally looking at you “Y/N..dammit you’re in the same category as Sam. I can survive losing a lot. I don’t know if I can survive losing either of you. Before you say it I know you’re plenty capable. I’d rather have you at my back then most men I know but that doesn’t change the fact that if you would’ve gotten killed saving my ass..I would’ve slaughtered every man in that place” “What about the women on his guard?” you asked and he narrowed his eyes “Don’t be a smartass just say you see my point” 

“I see your point but that’s the same reason why I couldn’t leave you there. Dean you almost killed Jonah. If I hadn’t been bleeding that bad you would’ve. You’re a high value target for Josiah so I’m not gonna attempt to lie to you I’d do it all over again but I do honestly see why you got pissed at me so can we call truce now?” he nodded and held a hand out so you shook it with a laugh “Glad we got that settled now let me get back to my post before Benny starts talking to his horse again”

------

Your group was about two days away from the Denver encampment. You’d stopped to make camp for the night. There was an old housing development that got abandoned when the end happened so it was a bunch of half built houses that had been mainly reclaimed by nature. There was one at the end that only had a few finishing touches to the place so that was where you picked for the night. The cart was parked in the garage so everyone made beds around it. All of you had slept in worse places.

“Y/N you and Sam take first shift then wake me and Benny up for second shift” Dean announced so you nodded in agreement as you pulled your jacket onto your shoulders “Aye aye Cap” then nodded at Sam “C’mon Samuel” he shook his head with a laugh but followed you out the side door of the garage that led back outside.

------

The full moon was nearly bright enough you could read by it. You were on your third trip around the house keeping an eye on the perimeter. Every time you’d pass Sam one of you would tell the other some stupid joke or random fact to pass the time. There was only another hour left of your guard shift then you could take over Dean’s bed to catch a little sleep before finishing the last leg of this trip.

Once the cart was dropped off your group didn’t have to take the main road home and weren’t as high value of a target for the militia or the road bandits. Even in this day and age you had people that would rather steal then even attempt to provide for themselves in a halfway honest way.

It was a bit disappointing that the one thing you could still count on was that mankind could still be major douches regardless of the time. You were thinking of another weird fact to tell Sam considering your fact of what raccoons could fit inside of made him swear to sleep on his back from here on out every time he slept outside would make you laugh for a week.

A movement towards the woods a few houses down caught your eye. You weren’t quite sure what it was but actually hoped for bandits versus Militia or any of Kaper’s men. You knew Sam would be coming around the corner of the house in a minute and if you mentioned it to him he’d want to check it out with you but you couldn’t leave the house completely unguarded.

You whistled one sharp note and Sam whistled back before coming around the corner quickly “What’s wrong Y/N?” you nodded towards the treeline “I think I saw something. I’m gonna go check it out. Don’t leave guard post unless you hear me scream then feel free to tell on me to Dean and bring everyone running deal?” He followed your line of sight then looked back at you “You’ve got exactly two minutes” you grinned at him “I only need one Samuel” then headed towards the treeline being careful to make your footsteps as quiet as possible.

You reached for the knife at your side. You had your gun tucked at your lower back but if it turned more into a close quarters deal the knife would be a better option. The moment you stepped into the shadows of the trees you felt a hand grab you and you were slammed backwards into a tree. Before you even focus to try to see the assailant you had your knife at their throat.

You realized you were looking up into none other than Dante Kaper’s dark brown eyes “You know you’re something else Y/N” he grunted flinching slightly from the pressure you had on the blade. “Been called worse by better Dante” you replied putting as much venom as you could in your voice and he smiled despite the fact that you were nearly drawing blood “You need to move your people. The militia is headed this way. They’ll be through before daylight”

“How do I know this isn’t a trap to make us move so your people can attack us down the road?” you asked and his grip on your arms tightened slightly “If I wanted your people dead I could’ve shot you and Dean's brother then burned the garage to the ground besides I kind of like having someone around to give me a run for my money. Makes life a lot more interesting”

“And why do I tell Dean we need to move? Can’t exactly say a Kaper said so” you replied easing the pressure slightly on his throat. He glanced down at the blade then slowly released your arms “You’re a resourceful woman. I’m sure you’ll think of something” you stared at him for a few breaths before putting your knife back at your side “If this is a trap you better hope they kill me fast because I’ll make sure you regret it” he had the audacity to wink at you before saying “See? Now comments like that make me want to keep you alive just because that much fire deserves to be fed”

He disappeared into the woods and a few seconds later you heard his horse moving away and cursed yourself for not clocking that big of a beast. “You bastard” you whispered to the night then realized the two minutes had more than likely passed so you quickly breached the tree line again to be back in Sam’s line of sight before he could wake Dean up.

He ran to meet you halfway “What was it?” you shook your head “I don’t know but we need to move. We’re close to a few caverns we can make it to one and still rest a bit before hitting the road again” he stepped in front of you before you got your hand on the door leading into the garage “Woah Y/N if it was nothing why are you hell bent on moving?” you met his eyes and took a deep breath “You trust me right?” “Of course” he answered a quick reply built on years of both of you trusting the other’s instinct. You hated lying to him but something told you Dante was being honest and you didn’t want to chance the supplies that were desperately needed in the Denver encampment being confiscated. 

“Let’s get them up then” you finally added so he stepped to the side and simply followed you into the garage.

------

Surprisingly enough when you woke Dean to say you felt like your team needed to move he didn’t even attempt to question you. He simply gave out orders and the lot of you moved silently through the woods to the caverns you’d pointed out on the map.

Once everyone was settled back down at the cavern though you noticed that Dean and Benny both had pulled Sam to the side of the group and the three of them kept throwing glances in your direction. What were you supposed to tell them if they questioned you further? That you were taking an enemy at his word because why exactly? You weren’t even sure yourself why you’d believed Dante besides the fact that he was indeed telling the truth that had he wanted any of you dead it would’ve been simple enough to do.

You pushed the thought out of your head and curled up next to Helios for the night. By the time the sun was peeking out onto the ground your team was already on the road once again. 

------

“So successful drop off done now for the trip home” you said riding between Sam and Dean. Dean glanced over your head at Sam and nodded once. You watched as Sam fell off and matched his pace with Benny instead no doubt giving you and Dean room to talk or rather Dean room to question you.

You remained silent for a few moments before saying “Well get on with it” he cut his eyes at you then looked back ahead of him “Get on with what exactly Y/N?” you sighed running your fingers through Helios’ mane “Asking me why I moved us in the middle of the night” “And why exactly was that?” he questioned and you felt a knot in your stomach start to form. On one hand you didn’t want to lie to Dean about anything but on the other hand you’d done the one thing all of you had sworn to never do..you trusted a Kaper. Even as far as David Dean simply avoided.

You shrugged “I just had a bad feeling. Best case scenario we ride back through and nothing is touched meaning I overreacted to a bad feeling” “But if we ride back through and proof that the militia has been through is there I’ve got to explain why you’ve either suddenly grown psychic powers or why the little birdies flying around have decided to start conversing with you” 

You were stunned into silence simply because you’d never actually had Dean accuse you of anything. It was a strange feeling but you also became acutely defensive “What exactly are you accusing me of?” you asked and he turned fully to look at you trusting his horse to remain on the path he’d been pointed “Someone was in those woods last night when you went to check it out. You can lie to Sammy but you can’t lie to me. Who was it?” At your silence he cleared his throat then looked back at Sam who came up to join the two of you yet again “Sam you and Benny take lead. Me and Y/N are gonna fall to watch the rear and have a little chat since she’s apparently now being shy of groups”

You cut your eyes at Benny when he came up to take your spot at the head of the group “You good darling?” you nodded once then clicked your tongue to get Helios to follow Dean. 

Once the two of you were at the rear of your group with no possibility of anyone over hearing a conversation Dean got his horse close enough to Helios that had the two not been around each other for so many years they never would’ve willingly rode that close “Now talk to me.You know I’ve always backed you up but I need to know who told you we should move?” you sighed and refused to meet his eyes but answered “Dante” you barely looked in his direction but saw his jaw clenching and unclenching “Please don’t be mad at me Dean. I had my knife to his throat but he had a point. He could’ve fucking sniped me and Sam then barbequed the rest of you if he had wanted to!” 

“So? What are you trusting him now?” Dean’s voice was sharper than you’d ever heard it pointed at you. He reached across the space between the two of you and snatched your jacket off your left arm to show the thick jagged scar that started at your wrist and disappeared underneath the short sleeve of your shirt “His brother did this! I found you nearly dead. Sam held you in his arms the entire ride back to our doctors and you know what? I heard him pray Y/N! Who the hell he was praying to in all of this I don’t know but we thought we would lose you. We lost Jo, Ash and Rufus that day! A Kaper did that! Out of every possible enemy in this world the god damn Kapers have been a thorn in our side for longer than anything! You really think you can trust him? Even David is only passable because he got away from Josiah and we haven’t heard anything from him since. Dante went back to his daddy’s compound and probably reported that Bobby’s girl was stupid enough to trust him!”

You felt hot tears spring to your eyes at his words. You turned your head stubbornly so he wouldn’t see them and took a few deep breaths before replying “I don’t trust him Dean but I had to weigh the options and protecting all of you was the most important thing” your voice broke slightly as you shrugged your jacket back up on your arm. Dean reached as if to touch your shoulder but you flinched away from him “Not right now Dean. I know you just want to protect me but I just can’t right now”

“Chief, are we checking it out?” Benny called from the front nodding towards the path that would take you back out to where the housing complex was. Dean looked at you then announced “Everyone wait here for a few. C’mon Benny” you watched them ride off then locked eyes with Sam. The look on his face alone was enough to ask if you were ok. You gave a sharp nod.

Within a few moments Dean and Benny were rejoining your group. You didn’t look in Dean’s direction when he came back to ride at your side but he still offered “For what it counts the militia destroyed it and left their mark” “Why did he warn me?” you asked honestly shocked that Dante’s warning had rang true. “That’s the question isn’t it?”

The moment Bobby heard that Dante had reached out to you and in fact actually told the truth about the militia coming through you knew that would be the end of you being allowed out on any day to day tasks. You had no idea why he’d even been in that area that night or how he’d located your group let alone why he’d want to actually protect your group. Hell you’d fought him the first time you met him then that knife had drawn a line of blood from his throat while he gave his warning. It was a predicament to say the least and and left you feeling like a fucking leper considering only Sam, Dean and Bobby knew so to everyone else they simply say you sticking close to the compound with no good reason as to why.

You were helping Donna and Jody in the armory trying to simply keep your head down until Bobby and the boys forgot about it and let you out again. “What exactly did you do?” Jody asked sliding more shells across to you since the three of you were currently making more bullets. You shrugged knowing that you very well couldn’t tell another soul that a Kaper had saved your necks. You absentmindedly scratched at the scar on your arm and Donna covered your hand with her own “You know that’s a bad nervous habit sweetie” you shot her a small smile “I think I’m just going a little stir crazy. Even just to take Helios out to stretch her legs I’ve got to take Benny or Max and Alicia with me” “Whatever happened those three will get over it soon enough kid. Just keep pushing they love ya” Jody added with a wink.

------

It went on for a while until you were on guard duty one day walking the length of the wall when Xavier, a rider for a nearby compound which happened to be where your hospital set up was, came riding up to the gate. “LET HIM IN!” you hollered climbing down the ladder to meet him.

When he saw you his eyes flicked around nervously “Y/N.. Dean or Sam around?” you shook your head “No but what’s going on Xavier?” he swallowed hard “They’re on the way to do a walk through of our compound. We don’t have the power core completely buried yet” “Shit.Dean,Benny  and Sam aren’t due back till dark” his eyes looked like they very well may pop out of his head “We have an hour tops” you knew that if you came out on the other side you’d never hear the end of it and that was the best case scenario. 

You nodded to his horse “How fast can it move with two riders?” “Fast enough” he replied. As you were swinging your leg up behind him you heard Max holler your name. Xavier glanced back at you but you simply shook your head “Ignore him. Let’s go” you rode out of the gate motioning for it to be closed behind you already planning in your head a dangerous route but if it came down to it you would do what was necessary to save the most amount of people.

------

Dean was seething with anger and underneath that was the fear. The fear of being too late this time. The fear he’d find you dead. Dammit why did you have to be so fucking selfless? When him and Sam had met up with Max on the trail back he knew something was wrong then when Max told him the last he’d seen of you was you riding off on the back of Xavier’s horse he knew the worst was yet to come.

He rode up to the gate of the compound that housed the hospital set up “OPEN THE FUCKING GATE!” He didn't slow down and rode directly up to the door before climbing off his horse and nearly took the door off the hinges as he stormed inside with Sam and Benny close behind. 

He spotted Micheal the doctor that was over the place “Where is she? What the fuck happened here?” The place was a mess but most of the equipment appeared to be whole. There was evidence a fight had happened and your presence or the lack thereof was a sore thumb along with the puddle of blood in the center of the room.  “Dean you got to know I tried to stop her! I told her to stand down but she refused. She was determined to draw their attention from the power core” the shorter man was clearly scared and for good reason. Benny knowing Dean how he did managed to catch him before he broke the good doctor’s nose “Dean brother we need to hear what happened before we kill him” 

Micheal looked at Sam who shrugged “They’re not gonna kill you” When Micheal almost looked relieved Sam quickly added “But we may make you wish you were dead cause you’re probably gonna have to put yourself back together if we find out you hid while they took Y/N” 

Benny let go of Dean and had a hand around Micheal’s throat in the blink of an eye “Now doc me and you ain’t never had an issue but that girl is like a sister to all three of you. What the hell happened here?” “Jonah was with them” Micheal breathed out and Dean felt his blood run cold.

They never planned this to be an inspection. Josiah and Jonah both knew the one way to get at Bobby, Dean and Sam was to go after Y/N. “Son of a bitch. They were probably watching when we left. He planned the walk through to draw her out knowing she’d never stand by”

Benny dropped Micheal unceremoniously to the floor. “Go over what happened and don’t leave a word out” 

Everything hurt.You knew the moment you’d spotted that chestnut horse amongst the inspection crew that it had all been a lie. You’d been lured out and played directly into their hands. “I’LL KILL YOU” you growled diving at Xavier. You’d trusted him and he’d betrayed all of you. “Sorry Y/N they gave me a better offer than being an errand boy”

You had your hands around his throat when the door was kicked in and you heard a gun cock “Y/N let him go or I’ll kill them” you looked up to see a gun pointed towards Micheal the top doctor and Erika the top field medic. You slowly stood off of Xavier eyes never leaving Jonah’s masked face. “Good girl” he cooed then the moment Xavier was on his feet he put a bullet between his eyes. At your look he shrugged “He’s a rat. Don’t need any rats now do we?”

“Gonna take that mask off and let me see Dean’s handy work?” you taunted eyes flicking towards Micheal and Erika. “Are you going to be nice and come quietly or do my men need to beat you in compliance?” he replied so you squared your shoulders and planted your feet “If you plan on taking me you might as well throw your hat into the ring too darling cause this is gonna be one hell of a fight” 

You ended up coming back to consciousness in the newly reinforced cells of Kaper’s compound. You were certain you had a few broken ribs and the entire side of your face was slick with your own blood. You’d held true to your word. You’d given as much damage as you’d gotten and that was at an extreme disadvantage. The last thing you remembered was Jonah’s boot connecting with the side of your head hard. If you survived this you would make sure you were the last thing he ever saw and you had the comfort of knowing if you didn’t survive that Dean would be the last thing Jonah ever saw.

You had managed to push yourself into a seated position with your back against the wall when you heard boots coming in your direction. You were in pain and it would likely be a task to stand on your own but regardless you braced yourself for what would more than likely be another fight. 

When the footsteps stopped you looked up to see Jonah was standing at the door leading into the cell. He had his mask in his hand and the light from the torch on the wall flickered across the burns the corrosive had left behind on his face. “Damn you’re even uglier than you were before. At least the exterior completely matches the interior now” you grunted holding an arm around your hurting ribs as you forced yourself to stand up despite the pain radiating through you that moving caused.  “Keep talking you little bitch. Even now our group is already at your compound. Singer will be given seventy two hours to either deliver the power core or be delivered your corpse” “Bobby knows you’ll never keep your word. You’ll take the power core and kill me all for daddy dearest to make a play to be over the shambles that’s left of this country”

“But the thing about Bobby and the Winchester boys they don’t think with their heads a lot. They let their hearts do the thinking and you’re family. That whole group is insane enough to risk it all by coming after you. How many more will die this time for you to walk away?” “That wasn’t my fault. It was yours” you threw back and he smiled “And yet here you still stand having survived what? Seven years after them?” “You’re gonna kill me why not just finish me off now?” you asked and his smile turned sinister “Oh but why kill you quickly when I can make you beg for death?”

He pulled a key out of his pocket and slid it into the door when he stepped into the cell you took a deep breath before falling into a defensive posture. Whatever he had planned it wouldn’t go over easy on him.

“There’s not even an option. We hand over the fucking power core” Dean spoke from where he stood at the edge of the room. “How do we know they won’t kill her anyway?” Benny asked and a silence fell over the room because everyone was thinking what Benny had just given voice to “Well what the hell do you suggest Benny? Let them kill her with no qualms?” Max’s voice was laced with anger. Anger at himself for not being able to stop you from leaving and anger at the situation in general.

“We’re already at the eighteen hour mark since they took her. We need to do something and do it now!” Alicia cut in but before another word could be spoken Claire came running into the room “DEAN, SAM” both brothers turned to look at the blonde who was out of breath “The front gate! We need you!”

------

Most of the residents of the compound had been temporarily relocated rather to other areas or the caverns to get the non combatants out of harm’s reach which made it easier for moving around. Erika had bought her supplies and came back to help as well.

When Dean and Sam made it to the front gate they saw that Erika, Alex and Eileen were all three crouched around but couldn’t make out what until they got close enough to see you cradled in Dante Kaper’s arms while the three women worked to triage your wounds.  

“What the hell?” Dean demanded and at his voice you opened your eyes weakly “Don’t hurt him Dean” then your head rolled over to the side. “She’s ok. She just passed out. Dante get her up and let’s get her inside”

------

Erika had kicked everyone out of the room besides Eileen and Alex to work so that left Dean and Sam alone with Dante in the hall outside the room you were in. “Is that her blood?” Dean asked, pointing to Dante’s shirt. The other man glanced down almost robotically “Not all. Some of it is Jonah’s” 

“Excuse me?” Sam asked to ensure he’d heard right. Dante raised his eyes and Dean saw a fire there that almost made him want to like him “I killed him to save her life. I wasn’t there when they took her but the moment I got back to the compound my father called me into his quarters to brag. I found Jonah in her cell he planned to do worse than torture her…” his eyes had found their way back to the door that held you on the other side “I killed him without a second thought. I took her out the back and bought her here where I know she’s safe then I’m gonna go back and kill my father and everyone loyal to him”

“Is she worth that to you?” Dean asked, needing the answer before he allowed himself to give a Kaper even a sliver of trust “Why wouldn’t she be?” Dante replied and Dean gave him a sharp nod “Ok then. Want some help?”

------

You came to again when Eileen was washing the blood off of your face. “Eileen?” you whispered but she saw your lips move and looked up to your eyes and smiled “Thank god. What do you remember?” “Jonah..a blade slicing through him...a horse ride..Dante’s coat being around me and telling Dean not to hurt him”

She nodded “Good no concussion then” you looked around slowly “Where is everyone” you signed a bit sloppy but she got the point. “Waiting for you to wake up” “How long have I been out?” you asked and she grimaced which told you it’d been a while “A week” 

Before you could have a complete freakout the door cracked open and Alicia poked her head in “You’re awake!” “It appears” you groaned trying to sit up before her and Eileen moved to help you. They shared a look then Eileen signed “I’m gonna go find the boys”

Once she walked out you looked over at Alicia who’d sat next to you “What happened while I was napping?” she laughed “Oh a revolution?” “Huh?” you questioned and she shrugged “Bobby can explain it better but just know our lives are going to be a lot more peaceful” “Where’s Dante?” you asked worry for him suddenly hitting you like a blow to the gut. “He’s fine honey. That’s one of the boys Eileen went to find”

------

You were sitting up with your feet curled under you nursing the glass of water Alicia had gotten you when the door opened again and Eileen walked in, trailed by Dean,Bobby,Sam,Benny and an unsure looking Dante.

Your crew all hugged you then you locked eyes with Dante and shared a small smile “You killed your brother for me” “He was an asshole anyways” he replied which caused a light laugh to spread across the room. “What happened while I was out?” you asked looking at Bobby who smiled “Long story short? Josiah is dead. David is back and over the civilians proven to not be under Josiah’s rule. The militia is being cleared out of dirty members as we speak and we have doubled the side of our hospital set up in the last three days”

You cut your eyes at Dante “What are you gonna do now?” Dean slung an arm around his shoulder and winked at you “Well Y/N not to put words in his mouth but I believe he was hoping to stick around and get to know you a bit better now that you’re not sworn enemies anymore” “If that’s good with you. If not I can always head home now that David is over it?” he offered and you smiled “I think I’d like you sticking around a bit”  His smile told you that was the answer he’d been hoping for.

@girl-next-door-writes

@littlemessyjessi

[4eternal-life]

MANIFESTO OF FUTURISM  /The Futurist Manifesto

by  Filippo Tommaso Marinetti, february 20th, 1909

We want to sing the love of danger, the habit of energy and rashness.

The essential elements of our poetry will be courage, audacity and revolt.

Literature has up to now magnified pensive immobility, ecstasy and slumber. We want to exalt movements of aggression, feverish sleeplessness, the double march, the perilous leap, the slap and the blow with the fist.

We declare that the splendor of the world has been enriched by a new beauty: the beauty of speed. A racing automobile with its bonnet adorned with great tubes like serpents with explosive breath ... a roaring motor car which seems to run on machine-gun fire, is more beautiful than the Victory of Samothrace.

We want to sing the man at the wheel, the ideal axis of which crosses the earth, itself hurled along its orbit.

The poet must spend himself with warmth, glamour and prodigality to increase the enthusiastic fervor of the primordial elements.

Beauty exists only in struggle. There is no masterpiece that has not an aggressive character. Poetry must be a violent assault on the forces of the unknown, to force them to bow before man.

We are on the extreme promontory of the centuries! What is the use of looking behind at the moment when we must open the mysterious shutters of the impossible? Time and Space died yesterday. We are already living in the absolute, since we have already created eternal, omnipresent speed.

We want to glorify war — the only cure for the world — militarism, patriotism, the destructive gesture of the anarchists, the beautiful ideas which kill, and contempt for woman.

We want to demolish museums and libraries, fight morality, feminism and all opportunist and utilitarian cowardice.

We will sing of the great crowds agitated by work, pleasure and revolt; the multi-colored and polyphonic surf of revolutions in modern capitals: the nocturnal vibration of the arsenals and the workshops beneath their violent electric moons: the gluttonous railway stations devouring smoking serpents; factories suspended from the clouds by the thread of their smoke; bridges with the leap of gymnasts flung across the diabolic cutlery of sunny rivers: adventurous steamers sniffing the horizon; great-breasted locomotives, puffing on the rails like enormous steel horses with long tubes for bridle, and the gliding flight of aeroplanes whose propeller sounds like the flapping of a flag and the applause of enthusiastic crowds

We have been up all night, my friends and I, beneath mosque lamps whose brass cupolas are bright as our souls, because like them they were illuminated by the internal glow of electric hearts. And trampling underfoot our native sloth on opulent Persian carpets, we have been discussing right up to the limits of logic and scrawling the paper with demented writing.

Our hearts were filled with an immense pride at feeling ourselves standing quite alone, like lighthouses or like the sentinels in an outpost, facing the army of enemy stars encamped in their celestial bivouacs. Alone with the engineers in the infernal stokeholes of great ships, alone with the black spirits which rage in the belly of rogue locomotives, alone with the drunkards beating their wings against the walls.

Then we were suddenly distracted by the rumbling of huge double decker trams that went leaping by, streaked with light like the villages celebrating their festivals, which the Po in flood suddenly knocks down and uproots, and, in the rapids and eddies of a deluge, drags down to the sea.

Then the silence increased. As we listened to the last faint prayer of the old canal and the crumbling of the bones of the moribund palaces with their green growth of beard, suddenly the hungry automobiles roared beneath our windows.

"Come, my friends!" I said. "Let us go! At last Mythology and the mystic cult of the ideal have been left behind. We are going to be present at the birth of the centaur and we shall soon see the first angels fly! We must break down the gates of life to test the bolts and the padlocks! Let us go! Here is they very first sunrise on earth! Nothing equals the splendor of its red sword which strikes for the first time in our millennial darkness."

We went up to the three snorting machines to caress their breasts. I lay along mine like a corpse on its bier, but I suddenly revived again beneath the steering wheel — a guillotine knife — which threatened my stomach. A great sweep of madness brought us sharply back to ourselves and drove us through the streets, steep and deep, like dried up torrents. Here and there unhappy lamps in the windows taught us to despise our mathematical eyes. "Smell," I exclaimed, "smell is good enough for wild beasts!"

And we hunted, like young lions, death with its black fur dappled with pale crosses, who ran before us in the vast violet sky, palpable and living.

And yet we had no ideal Mistress stretching her form up to the clouds, nor yet a cruel Queen to whom to offer our corpses twisted into the shape of Byzantine rings! No reason to die unless it is the desire to be rid of the too great weight of our courage!

We drove on, crushing beneath our burning wheels, like shirt-collars under the iron, the watch dogs on the steps of the houses.

Death, tamed, went in front of me at each corner offering me his hand nicely, and sometimes lay on the ground with a noise of creaking jaws giving me velvet glances from the bottom of puddles.

"Let us leave good sense behind like a hideous husk and let us hurl ourselves, like fruit spiced with pride, into the immense mouth and breast of the world! Let us feed the unknown, not from despair, but simply to enrich the unfathomable reservoirs of the Absurd!"

As soon as I had said these words, I turned sharply back on my tracks with the mad intoxication of puppies biting their tails, and suddenly there were two cyclists disapproving of me and tottering in front of me like two persuasive but contradictory reasons. Their stupid swaying got in my way. What a bore! Pouah! I stopped short, and in disgust hurled myself — vlan! — head over heels in a ditch.

Oh, maternal ditch, half full of muddy water! A factory gutter! I savored a mouthful of strengthening muck which recalled the black teat of my Sudanese nurse!

As I raised my body, mud-spattered and smelly, I felt the red hot poker of joy deliciously pierce my heart. A crowd of fishermen and gouty naturalists crowded terrified around this marvel. With patient and tentative care they raised high enormous grappling irons to fish up my car, like a vast shark that had run aground. It rose slowly leaving in the ditch, like scales, its heavy coachwork of good sense and its upholstery of comfort.

We thought it was dead, my good shark, but I woke it with a single caress of its powerful back, and it was revived running as fast as it could on its fins.

Then with my face covered in good factory mud, covered with metal scratches, useless sweat and celestial grime, amidst the complaint of staid fishermen and angry naturalists, we dictated our first will and testament to all the living men on earth.

It is in Italy that we are issuing this manifesto of ruinous and incendiary violence, by which we today are founding Futurism, because we want to deliver Italy from its gangrene of professors, archaeologists, tourist guides and antiquaries.

Italy has been too long the great second-hand market. We want to get rid of the innumerable museums which cover it with innumerable cemeteries.

Museums, cemeteries! Truly identical in their sinister juxtaposition of bodies that do not know each other. Public dormitories where you sleep side by side for ever with beings you hate or do not know. Reciprocal ferocity of the painters and sculptors who murder each other in the same museum with blows of line and color. To make a visit once a year, as one goes to see the graves of our dead once a year, that we could allow! We can even imagine placing flowers once a year at the feet of the Gioconda! But to take our sadness, our fragile courage and our anxiety to the museum every day, that we cannot admit! Do you want to poison yourselves? Do you want to rot?

What can you find in an old picture except the painful contortions of the artist trying to break uncrossable barriers which obstruct the full expression of his dream?

To admire an old picture is to pour our sensibility into a funeral urn instead of casting it forward with violent spurts of creation and action. Do you want to waste the best part of your strength in a useless admiration of the past, from which you will emerge exhausted, diminished, trampled on?

Indeed daily visits to museums, libraries and academies (those cemeteries of wasted effort, calvaries of crucified dreams, registers of false starts!) is for artists what prolonged supervision by the parents is for intelligent young men, drunk with their own talent and ambition.

For the dying, for invalids and for prisoners it may be all right. It is, perhaps, some sort of balm for their wounds, the admirable past, at a moment when the future is denied them. But we will have none of it, we, the young, strong and living Futurists!

Let the good incendiaries with charred fingers come! Here they are! Heap up the fire to the shelves of the libraries! Divert the canals to flood the cellars of the museums! Let the glorious canvases swim ashore! Take the picks and hammers! Undermine the foundation of venerable towns!

The oldest among us are not yet thirty years old: we have therefore at least ten years to accomplish our task. When we are forty let younger and stronger men than we throw us in the waste paper basket like useless manuscripts! They will come against us from afar, leaping on the light cadence of their first poems, clutching the air with their predatory fingers and sniffing at the gates of the academies the good scent of our decaying spirits, already promised to the catacombs of the libraries.

But we shall not be there. They will find us at last one winter's night in the depths of the country in a sad hangar echoing with the notes of the monotonous rain, crouched near our trembling aeroplanes, warming our hands at the wretched fire which our books of today will make when they flame gaily beneath the glittering flight of their pictures.

They will crowd around us, panting with anguish and disappointment, and exasperated by our proud indefatigable courage, will hurl themselves forward to kill us, with all the more hatred as their hearts will be drunk with love and admiration for us. And strong healthy Injustice will shine radiantly from their eyes. For art can only be violence, cruelty, injustice.

The oldest among us are not yet thirty, and yet we have already wasted treasures, treasures of strength, love, courage and keen will, hastily, deliriously, without thinking, with all our might, till we are out of breath.

Look at us! We are not out of breath, our hearts are not in the least tired. For they are nourished by fire, hatred and speed! Does this surprise you? it is because you do not even remember being alive! Standing on the world's summit, we launch once more our challenge to the stars!

Your objections? All right! I know them! Of course! We know just what our beautiful false intelligence affirms: "We are only the sum and the prolongation of our ancestors," it says. Perhaps! All right! What does it matter? But we will not listen! Take care not to repeat those infamous words! Instead, lift up your head!

Standing on the world's summit we launch once again our insolent challenge to the stars!

[anarcho-mom-unist]

A survey of my ‘spotify wrapped’ from 2020

So, I listen to music between a lot of platforms, I hate how spotify operates as a company (and like in a way that’s pretty comparable to my loathing of the publishing/distribution sides of creative industries,) and I fucking refuse to ever pay for spotify askjdhd

However based on the aggregate of my 100 most-listened-to songs from a year of mostly hitting shuffle on an artist, album, or playlist on mobile, I do have some reflections and highlights. From that I made something of a survey of that list which includes my #1 and #100 song in addition to 1 song from each set of ten, for a total of 12 songs. These represent artists and genres I really got into this year, as well as longtime favorites that are worth talking about:

1. “Bad Trip” - Bad Trip (single) - Xena Elshazlii & Fady Haroun: "Bad Trip” is probably my favorite 2020 release, like if I had to pick one. The track has incredible energy, from the soft piano and vocalization intro to the verse with it’s sparse drums, subtle bass line, and slight strings to an absolute banger of a chorus with punchy staccato synths, reinforcement of the drum groove, and addition of an electric guitar. Elshazlii & Haroun pack a lot into 2-and-a-half minutes of music, and the variations in texture, mix, & music in each iteration of the song’s discrete sections are *chef’s kiss* ---verse 1 and chorus 1 are not identical to verse 2 and chorus 2, to say nothing of the short instrumental transition b/n the first chorus and second verse. Whenever I listen to “Bad Trip” I’m compelled to hit ‘repeat’ ---which is not a normal occurrence for me---and experience the builds and releases that this track brings once again. I don’t know much Arabic beyond the slang terms and exclamations that peppered my grandparents’ & parents’ speech when they spoke to each other in Armenian, but I’d be a liar if I didn’t tell y’all that “Bad Trip” is among the songs that make me want to learn the language so I can better sing along w/ them.

3. “City Lights” - Sailorwave II - Macross 82-99 ft. Kamei:  "City Lights” is the opener to Macross 82-99′s 2018 EP Sailorwave II, and it does that job immaculately. While I recommend the entire EP and an exploration of the Future Funk genre as a whole, you can’t go wrong with getting a taste of either through “City Lights.” The track bursts to life w/ synth brass chords and fast drums, quickly finding its way into punchy up-tempo horn line w/ light rhythm guitar and an active & bouncy bass line joining the mix. “City Lights” more or less goes from A to B to C and after the instrumental opening, the track shifts to a more under-voice horn line offering a countermelody to a mid-to-low register vocal line which is soon after joined by high voices punctuating the beginning of each phrase. The horns, guitars, and singers are cut from the track as the song enters its final section, a rap verse from featured artist Kamei accompanied with a slower-moving bass and light synth chords & wash in the middle register. Taken all together, “City Lights” ---like “Bad Trip” before it---packs a lot of music into a short duration & leaves me wanting more, which I especially long for when listening to the track outside of the context of the EP (which is what I usually do.)

12. “Turn to Hate” - Pony - Orville Peck: There’s a lot I could have done better in 2019, and “check out Orville Peck” is pretty high up there. “Turn to Hate” is a song that is at once heartrending, sincere, & catchy as all get out. Peck does one of my favorite possible things a musician can do on this track, and that’s make me Feel Things at a quick tempo. The vulnerable lyrics sung in outlaw country bass are supported by a fairly simple chord progression that acts as a solid foundation for a lot of texture ---moving guitar lines in the accompaniment part and middle-ground lines that move in and out of the melodic foreground. My moment of pure delight on the track is Peck’s laconic “yeehaw” that leads into a guitar solo that does so much work w/ its relative simplicity. “Turn to Hate” is an excellent song to get you into Orville Peck’s music if you aren’t already, if any of this piques your interest then I strongly recommend exploring his output of classic country meets 2010s indie meets camp gay sensibilities meets emotional realness. (This is as good a place as any to advise you to check out Yola and her album Walk Through Fire.)

27. “Water No Get Enemy” - Expensive Shit - Fela Kuti & Africa 70: I’m a newcomer to Afrobeat which is a fuckin’ shame because it contains a lot of the things I love most in music: rhythmic density and variety, jazz and “folk” idioms working together, a sense joy in the music-making with righteous anger at injustice in the music’s purpose, and a kick-ass horn section. "Water No Get Enemy” by Fela Kuti & Africa 70 is as good an intro as any to Afrobeat as it’s a delightful & excellent piece of music by the genre’s pioneer. It’s worth mentioning that in addition to its musical quality, Afrobeat is also deeply connected with Pan-Africanism and the resistance to the presence of European colonizers in Sub-Saharan Africa. To be frank, whatever I write can’t really do justice to this song or the musical movement from which it comes, go listen to it... a jam you can dance to while hating the British!? Immaculate. 

31. “Vardavar” - EP No. 1 - Tigran Hamasyan: The first of two songs from Armenian Jazz-fusion pianist/keyboardist and composer, Tigran Hamasyan, is a fast moving rhythmically dense piece of music named after the Armenian holiday of the same name ---Vardavar is a holiday of pre-Christian origin that Armenians celebrate in July in observance of the transfiguration of Christ, it involves throwing buckets of water on each other! Appropriate to its namesake, the running piano line through much of the track and the melodic lines are both exceptionally fluid and reminiscent of water. The rhythm of the tune follows a highly irregular subdivision of the bar that it’s best to feel along w/ as a listener ---seriously, unless you’re transcribing the tune or practicing/rehearsing it, don’t worry about counting---and get lost in with the flow of the music. Notable features of the track are the dense layering of instrumental/vocal lines on the melodic and countermelodic material, breakdowns & entire sections where the music takes to longer notes, “slower” feel & division of the bar, and a slower harmonic rhythm, unexpected unisons b/n instruments, and the transformation of Armenian folk melodies & texts between vocalized material and statements of the original material. There is no living musician whose work I love more than Tigran’s and if you’re not familiar with it “Vardavar” is an excellent place to start.

46. “Boyish” - Tropical Jinx - Little Big League:  "Boyish” is better known as one of the singles from Japanese Breakfast’s sophomore album Soft Sounds from Another Planet where Michelle Zauner presents the tune at a slow tempo with an unassuming instrumental accompaniment, wash of synths in the chorus, and low-register closing guitar solo which leaves the audience with a sense of melancholy & vulnerability. The original version from the 2014 LP of Zauner’s former band, Little Big League, offers a different take on the text: noisy guitars, driving rhythm, aggressive drumming on a rock groove, and a vocal delivery offering more of the rage of heartbreak than its sadness. Zauner refers to “Boyish” as an ‘ugly girl anthem’ and that intention is very apparent on this version of the track ---whereas the Japanese Breakfast take on it gave me a sense of being in the gender hinterlands b/n acceptable presentations of masculine and feminine. Both versions of the song are really worth seeking out for different reasons, and I chose to highlight Little Big League on this list because they’re a solid guitar-driven emo band that deserves appreciation in its own right.

50. “Dreaming” - Eat to the Beat - Blondie: What do I need to say about Blondie!? A CBGB act from the late-70′s that straddled the worlds of Punk and New Wave at their peak with a mix of an exceptional rhythm section (that bass!) diverse and compelling guitar work, and the captivating and ever-iconic vocals and presence of Debbie Harry. “Dreaming” might be my favorite song from Blondie and has had a special place in my heart since I first listened to them with my mom. It’s one of those songs that I’m tempted to call a perfect pop song: a joyful performance, lyrics that are at once simple and relatable ---whom amongst is unfamiliar with longing!?---music full of hooks & containing the kind of energy that just goes and takes you with it!

65. “Holy” - Shadow Theater - Tigran Hamasyan: The second entry from Tigran Hamasyan comes from his 2013 album Shadow Theater ---an excellent work as a whole---and is one of the slower, more spacious, and simpler tracks from it. “Holy” is a setting of the Armenian liturgical piece “Soorp Soorp” which is frequently used in the celebration of the Eucharist (even in the Armenian Protestant church I grew up in) and it’s achingly beautiful. There’s always something to be said about a musician capable of complex and virtuosic feats on their instrument doing something very simply and very well, and that’s what the entire ensemble brings ---including frequent collaborator Areni Agbabian who provides the vocals. Even as the texture thickens in the middle of the song, the middle ground & harmonic support coming from strings and bassoon (Ben Wendel) is simple, under-voice, and reverent. “Holy” is the kind of piece of music that offers an encounter with God ---even if one would never otherwise believe in something beyond the material; even just for a moment.

77. “The Day the World Turn Day-Glo” - Germ Free Adolescents - X-Ray Spex: X-Ray Spex is one of those bands I’ve listened to before on a recommendation I received ages ago but never really followed up on beyond the one song sent my way. “...Day-Glo” is a fuckin’ banger of song that just bursts with this wonderful energy from the jump & showcases the best qualities of X-Ray Spex’s sound: driving guitars, wild saxophone lines, and chaotically charismatic lead vocals from singer Poly Styrene. X-Ray Spex have an output that is wild and fun as hell to explore, and “...Day-Glo” is an excellent place to start ---you’d also do well to check out their more notable song “Oh Bondage, Up Yours!” 

84. “Marquee Moon” - Marquee Moon - Television: Listen, you don’t need to read some internet lesbian with a music degree go off about Television ---one of the most musically interesting acts to come out of CBGB and one of many definitive proofs that Punk is not a label that people should fucking fight about having a true definition of. Clear 11 minutes in your day, find a pair of headphones so you can experience the use of stereo in the recording and enjoy each element of the song, especially with regards to Tom Verlaine and Richard Lloyd’s interlocking guitar lines.

96. “Leylum” - Kokorec - Collectif Medz Bazaar & Sevana Tchak: Armenian folk music, baby!! Collectif Medz Bazaar offer a lively and joyful rendition of the classic folk song “Leylum” which has been burned in my mind from church and community gatherings ---the fun ones with music and all of your aunties dancing in a circle and such. Listen to this song and DM me if you aren’t dancing along of joining in on the response parts as best you can. I think this particular recording offers a nice entry point into an exploration of Armenian music, the instrumentation hits a lot of the staples of Armenian folk ensembles ---duduks, dohl, dumbek, clarinet, shvi, etc.---and the song itself is an up tempo dance tune which I find to be easier to start with than ballads or liturgical music.

100. “Electrastar” - Paradize - Indochine: Back in the hazy past of 2017, one of my friends from undergrad and I were hanging out and playing music for each other. In a departure from his usual library of French Baroque music, he played a song by French New Wave band, Indochine. That song was “Electrastar” which is a consistent favorite of mine, my favorite song from its album ---Paradize, which is already a solid record---and a great entry point into the musical output of a band which has been active for about 40 years. "Electrastar” features driving rhythm guitar, pulsing synth under the texture, eminently catchy chorus and post-chorus, and a very care-full and effective approach to the mix. Also, not for nothing but that album cover is 👀

Survey of 2020 Listening

[i-do-trash-fanfictions]

Thera’s Journal Entry #25

(I was going to post this tomorrow but I just couldn’t wait! Please enjoy!)

When I set off to do a Wrathborn hunt, this wasn’t what I planned to happen. I never thought that the large hive knight would outwit me, or be so strong.

Long story short, I was trying to move and get to more cover. I had no idea how close the knight actually was. The next thing I know, I get slapped and I’m flying. The next second, it was dark.

When I awoke again, the first thing I did was call for Scout. But he wasn’t there. I panicked. Where was he? Was he dead? Captured? Trapped? I forced myself to stop thinking of the what ifs and to calm down.

The next thing I did, after I got my breathing even again, was inspect my surroundings. I was in a cage in a dark, musty room. I’ve seen cages like this one before, only servitors were being held in them.

I guessed that I was back on the Reef. This didn’t seem like the Dreaming City, which was where I had been before. I was surprised the hive knight hadn’t just killed me. He must have simply knocked me unconscious and then handed me off to some fallen. Perhaps they plan to use me as bait. I knew that Crow would show up eventually. He wouldn’t just let me die, I knew that.

I was worried for when he arrived though. He would be greatly outnumbered, and he wasn’t entirely the best at wielding his light. Not yet.

I sat down. There was nothing to do but wait.

I wrote this all after I had returned safely to my room in the Tower. As for the pieces that are not from my point of view, I asked Crow and Scout about them, so I could get both sides of the story, and not just my own.

Scout couldn’t wake me up earlier, not without getting hurt or killed. So he snuck away. He wished he could do something as the knight picked me up and took me away, but he couldn’t help me if he was dead. 

He followed the knight from the shadows, and watched him take me to a fallen ship. He handed me off to some fallen then walked away. The fallen chattered and nodded at him. Then he left. 

Scout left the area and called for the Queen of Hearts. He transmatted himself onto the ship and prepared to follow behind the fallen ship, to see where they were taking me. He followed them back to the Reef, and watched as the ship landed at an old abandoned building, where fallen were everywhere.

He knew that there was no way for him to sneak in. So he turned the ship around and headed to get help. He could have left and gone to the Tower to get Zavala and Ikora, but then he would have to explain the Wrathborn hunts, which would probably lead to him having to tell them about Crow.

Scout landed the ship nearby Spider’s location, and headed in as fast as he could to Crow’s area. Glint appeared and Crow turned, both seemed suprised and worried when they saw that I wasn’t there.

“Where is Thera?” Crow asked, placing the tool he had in his hand onto the worktable.

“She was captured by a hive wrathborn on the Dreaming City. She’s back on the Reef, I followed her here. I need your help to get her back. 

“Are you sure she’s still alive?” Glint asked. “I hate to ask that question, but if she’s dead, it may be too late. You know what can happen if a Ghost waits far to long to revive their Guardian.”

“She’s alive.” Scout answered.

“Then we must go. I will get clearance from Spider.” Crow stated.

“How do you know he will let you?” Asked Glint.

“He will. I’ll convince him. Thera’s done enough jobs for him to prove herself useful to him.”

And Crow did convince him. Spider almost didn’t allow it, until Crow reminded him of what I had helped with in the past. So, he agreed.

“I brought her ship here. We’ll take it to her location.” Said Scout.

Crow, Glint, and Scout headed to the Queen of Hearts and entered the ship. Scout headed to the cockpit.

“I am guessing you know her location?” Crow said.

“I saw the building where they took her, but I don’t know her exact location in there.”

The ship started up and rose into the air. It then sped forward as Scout set the navigator in the right direction. He returned to the main room where Crow and Glint were.

“I’ll land us a way off from their base, that way they won’t see us coming.” Scout told him.

Crow nodded.

Meanwhile, I thought about what had happened.

This wasn’t the first time an enemy was stronger than me, but this time it was different. The other times I had gotten away, then returned to the fight when I had got stronger. But this time, I couldn’t escape. There were too many hive surrounding me. And I didn't want to break cover unless I had to. The knight was getting to close, and I had to move to a different cover. I thought I would have time to move, but I didn’t. And now here I was.

I convinced myself that Scout was still alive, and that he was going to get help. I was hoping he wouldn’t try to get in by himself. It would be to dangerous to come alone without a weapon.

The Fallen that were in the room with me would mock me. If I was out of that cage, they wouldn’t have been laughing. Some even took turns taking an electric staff, poking it in between the gaps of the bars, giving me a shock that would leave a mark where it had hit me. They would laugh as they did it, enjoying the look of me in pain.

I didn’t say anything. It wouldn’t do me any good. So I just took it in silence, hoping that Scout got there with help sometime soon.

Back to Crow and my Ghost, the ship landed.

Scout stayed on the ship as Crow and Glint made his way down the ramp.

“I can’t go.” Scout said. “I can’t hide like Glint can. I’ll stay at the ship and alert you if anyone finds it. I’ll be ready to heal Thera when you both get back. Traveler knows she’s going to get. Please, hurry.”

“I will get back as quick as I can, with Thera right alongside me.” Crow answered.

The ramp closed and Crow went to the edge of the small cliff they had landed on. The building was in view right in front of them. It was rusted, the paint peeling off, and the windows broken. Foliage seemed to grow in every crevice. 

Crow started downward, gun at the ready. He would try to do stealth for as long as he could. He snuck behind cover and moved carefully and quietly. The long, untrimmed grass helped tremendously. 

Crow killed a Dreg that stood in front of a glassless window with his knife, then jumped into the building. 

He walked along the hallways, trying his best to be light with his footsteps so they wouldn’t echo.

Crow told me he roamed for at least fifteen minutes before he spotted a large hole in the ground, leading to a tunnel. He followed it, the stench of earth and ether being very stong. Any fallen he came across he killed quickly and silently. He kept his pulse rifle on his back.

I saw him before the fallen surrounding me did. They were messing with me again. I watched as Crow killed a fallen that stood in the doorway and then laid the Dreg quietly to the ground.

We locked eyes.

He motioned with his hand and I ducked.

Crow pulled out his gun and quickly took care of the seven fallen that surrounded the cage. However, the gunshots echoed down the tunnels. Reinforcements would be on us in minutes. 

“Wondered when you’d show up,” I said.

He aimed his gun at the locked latch and fired. The door swung open. I came out and stood. The cage was far to small for me to have stood in it, so I had been in a sitting position the entire time.

I stretched as Crow looked around.

“Do you know where your weapons are?” He asked me.

I went to the table in the small room and reached under it, pulling out Riskrunner.

“Alright Scout. We’ve got Thera, but we’ve just alerted all the fallen.” Crow said into the coms.

“Hurry and get out.” I heard Scout’s voice before the com clicked off.

Words could not describe the relief I had to have proof he was alive.

“We need to run. We’re far too outnumbered.” Said Crow.

“Yeah, I know. Let’s go.”

We rushed down the tunnel, with Crow in the lead since I had been unconscious while being brought down here. A few fallen ran at us, but we shot them as quick as we could. We never stopped running until we came into a room where there were many fallen blocking the exit. More fallen blocked the way we came.

I dodged and shot, being careful, not wanting to get badly hurt since Scout wasn’t there to heal me right away. Four surrounded me and I took them out with Riskrunner, but I didn’t see the fifth one.

Crow yelled but it was too late. I turned and the shot hit me in the side. I fell back and Crow shot the fallen who had harmed me. Other Fallen moved to finish me off but Crow pushed them back. I fought to get my sight back to normal, it was getting blurry. I moved my hand to my side, where blood pooled out. I looked over to Crow, who was fighting the fallen. I had never seen him fight like that. He stood beside me, firing his pulse rifle. He threw a knife at one of the Dregs, killing it instantly. Another got to close and he stabbed it’s throat. He fired some more and that was it. He turned and crouched next to me. Things were still blurry. He looked over at my wound, which I knew was still bleeding.

“Shit.” I heard him mutter, and then I was out.

Crow recounted his side of the story with Scout, and then Scout later told it to me so I could write it.

Crow ripped a piece of fabric from his cloak. He then pulled it around me to soak up the blood and apply pressure to the wound. He then lifted me up, one arm under me knees, and the other under my back.

“She’s breathing but we have to hurry.” Glint told him. “She’s losing blood fast.”

The extra weight slowed him down but he still ran. He climbed out the window he had used to get in. My breathing was starting to get shallow. He was far from the cliff. With him carrying me, they would only be halfway there by the time I died. Crow looked down at me.

“Scout! You have to bring to ship closer and transmatt Thera on it.” Fallen screeched nearby. “She’s about to die! Hurry!” Crow shouted.

The ship rose immediately and flew close. At the same time that I disappeared from Crow’s arms, Glint transmatted him into the Queen of Hearts as well.

Glint rushed into the cockpit to take the controls and set their destination while Scout rushed out to me.

I was laying on the small couch on the main room, blood already soaking through the fabric. Just before it was too late, Scout healed me. My breathing returned to normal, and the bleeding stopped as the wound closed.

Scout sighed and turned to Crow. “I can’t do anything about her being unconscious. She has to wake up on her own.”

“What will we do with her in the meantime?”

Scout knew that he couldn’t take me to the Tower. He would have to get help to get me to my room, and then he would have to explain everything to Ikora and Zavala.

“I think she should stay on the Reef with you. That way you can keep her safe. The ship’s running out of fuel,” Scout lied. The ship was actually at half a tank. “We won’t make it to the Tower. I’ll land the ship near Spider’s hideout.”

Crow nodded as Scout laid on my chest. Crow then went over to the cockpit where Glint directed the ship. “Land near Spider’s hideout. They don’t have enough fuel to make it to the Tower.”

Glint knew it was a lie so that they wouldn’t have to reveal Crow so soon so he went along with it. While Crow waited for the ship to land, he removed the bloody piece of his cloak and left it in the mini trash can. The ship soon landed just as night fell.

“I think it would be better if Thera came with me. I have to return to the hideout, and I don’t want to leave you here without someone to protect the both of you.” Crow told Scout.

“Sure. I’ll transmatt her to your spot.” I disappeared with Scout.

Crow headed to Spider.

“Well, did you get her out?” Spider asked in his rough voice. 

“Yes, Spider. She is now safe.”

“Good. No more adventures for today, little bird. You are going to stay in here where you belong.”

Crow nodded and headed to his room. I was laying on the small cot there. Crow sighed.

“She will be alright, won’t she?” Crow asked Scout.

“She’ll be fine. She’ll either wake up sometime in the night or in the morning.” Scout answered, laying on my hand that was stretched upward.

“She can stay on my bed until she wakes up.”

“But where will you sleep?”

“I think I’ll survive if I stay up for the night. I have a gun to work on anyway.” Crow pulled out his gun and laid it on the worktable.

There was silence as Crow pulled over a chair, grabbed a tool and began to tinker with his pulse rifle.

“Thank you.” Scout finally said. “For saving Thera.”

“You’re welcome, Scout.”

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

I opened my eyes slowly. The first thing I became aware of was Scout, sitting in the palm of my hand. The next thing I noticed was Crow, head down on the worktable, asleep.

I sat up and Scout stirred. He looked up at me.

“It’s about time you woke up.” He stated.

I looked around and learned that I was in Spider’s hideout.

“How long have I been here?” I asked.

“It’s early morning. You’ve been here for at least ten hours.”

I rubbed my eyes. “What happened?” I asked, but as soon as I said that I remembered what had happened. I had been shot. I had been dying.

“Crow got you to the Queen of Hearts just in time. I was able to heal you once you got there, but I couldn’t get you conscious.”

I moved over and got up from the cot I was laying on and stretched. “Oh shoot, does Ikora and Zavala know where I’m at?”

“I told them you decided to stay out for the day and stay the night in your ship. They don’t know about any of this.”

“Good.”

Crow grumbled and sat up. He turned around and his eyes widened as he saw me.

“You’re awake.” He stated.

“Yeah. I better get going. I’m sure I’ve got missions to do.”

“Of course.” He stood from his chair.

“Thank you.” I said. “For coming to get me. It must have been a lot of trouble to carry me to the ship.”

“I’m glad you are alright.” 

I turned, about to have Scout transmatt me to my ship, before I turned back around and gave Crow a quick hug. He seemed confused by the gesture at first, before he returned the embrace. I backed up, saw a small smile on his face, then Scout transmatted me to the Queen of Hearts.

I headed to the cockpit, started up the ship, then set course for the Tower.

“You better plan to tell me everything I missed.” I told Scout.

“I’ll be sure not to leave anything out.”

I looked down at my torso where a bullet hole had ripped through the fabric, and where blood had stained the white.

“Yeah, I should probably fix this up before we get back.”

“Yeah, you probably should.” Scout agreed.

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

“I’ll keep you warm” with Ahkmenrah? ❤️💗

This gets just a teensy angsty for a teensy second, but I hope it melts your heart like it melted mine!

* * * * *

Living in New York City was a dream come true; it was a literal melting pot not only of cultures and people, but of things to do, to see, and to experience. And New York City at Christmas time? When you saw the Rockefeller tree decorated and lit up for the first time, you felt just like Kevin McAllister—filled with a glowing warmth.

However, like Kevin, it was also accompanied by an overwhelming feeling of homesickness.

You missed home.

You missed the quiet peace of age-old family traditions. The dark, cozy nights at home, tucked inside with a fire burning while the latest snowstorm raged outside, wondering when the electricity would finally lose its battle with the elements and blink out for the night. You missed the familiar smell of the cookie-scented candles that stood ready, always quickly lit by your mother who was afraid someone would stub their toe in the dark, despite the fact that you spent at least two nights a week in a blackout.

Looking at Ahkmenrah, laughing at Octavius as he ended up, once again, the butt of Jed’s latest practical joke, you knew he would understand this feeling. But for some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to talk about it, and just hung back, withdrawing into yourself.

“My love? You are rather subdued this evening,” Ahkmenrah said from beside you, startling you out of your nostalgia.  

You gave him a soft smile that didn’t reach your eyes, causing his blue-green gaze to fill with concern.

“Can I assist you in any way?”

This time, your smile did reach your eyes.

“I appreciate you more than you’ll ever know, Ahk. Sometimes, I just have to feel my sad through. If that makes sense?”

Ahkmenrah gave you a solemn nod, his eyes telling you he did understand.

A few nights later, you answered a knock at your door and were surprised to see a modernly clothed, beautiful, former Egyptian king grinning at you.

“How did you—”

“The less you know, the better,” Ahkmenrah interrupted, his eyes swirling with an impish glee.

You looked over his outfit and stifled a laugh. It was clear he raided the museum gift shop, donning an orange and cream T-Rex hoodie underneath a leather NASA bomber jacket. He must’ve nabbed someone’s sweatpants from their locker because they were clearly a size too big, along with a pair of sneakers that were also too big. He covered his curls with a dark blue beanie emblazoned with a glow-in-the-dark Raptor’s claw.

“Get dressed immediately—please,” Ahk added before you had a chance to narrow your eyes at his demand.

“Alright,” you said slowly.

As you slid your arms into your overcoat and buttoned up, you fished out an extra pair of gloves from the hall closet.

“Hold out your hands, my king,” you said, feeling happier than you’d felt in the last few days, wondering just what your sweet boyfriend was up to.

He raised both hands and allowed you to slip a glove onto each, a little snug for his large fingers, but better than nothing.

“These will come in useful,” Ahkmenrah said as he examined his covered hands.

“Considering it’s a balmy 25 degrees out, yeah I think they will. Can I at least know where we are going?”

“No,” Ahkmenrah said, reaching for the dufflebag you hadn’t even realized he brought in.

“What’s—”

“No questions, Y/N!” Ahkmenrah growled as he grabbed your hand and pulled you along the corridor to the elevator.

Ahk hailed a cab, grinning at you with pride as you blinked back your shock. He held the door open while you slid inside, finally getting a clue as to where you were going when Ahkmenrah told the driver, “To the uppermost, western quadrant of the Central Park, good sir.”

“Uhhh—"

“103rd station should be good, I think,” you mumbled to the cab driver, assuming Ahkmenrah had scoped something out above the museum he wanted to show you.

Ahkmenrah settled his dufflebag on his lap and smiled softly at you before turning his attention to look out the window.

“Are you sure—”

Ahkmenrah whipped his head in your direction, his eyes narrowed as he raised a gloved finger to your lips.

“Shh,” he said sternly.

You raised your hands in a gesture of surrender, and Ahk removed his finger from your lips. He grasped your chin and pressed a quick kiss to your lips before returning his gaze to watch the lit streets crawl by as the driver fought his way through traffic.

When you finally reached 103rd, Ahkmenrah paid with a wad of cash he didn’t even bother to count.

“Come along before all the best ones are gone,” Ahkmenrah said, rushing into the park with you jogging after him.

Your curiosity had reached its peak, growing into exasperation as you struggled to catch up to Ahk, who was now darting wildly on and off the asphalt path as people strolled by, cuddled together to fight the cold, most of them walking their dogs. A few others were getting in a cold-weather jog before it got too late in the evening.

“Ahkmenrah,” you groaned, your nose frozen and your cheeks red.

“I think I have found the perfect one!” Ahk shouted, dropping his dufflebag, opening it up, and removing an ancient looking axe.

“Ahhh!” screamed a jogger, stumbling off the path as she avoided Ahkmenrah as he whirled around, axe in hand, to see where you were.

“Holy fuck,” you mumbled as you ran to Ahk, grabbing up the dufflebag and trying to hide the axe.

“He’s an exchange student from very, very far away,” you explained to the jogger who was looking at the two of you, her phone clutched in her hand. “Are you alright?”

She nodded and shot you one more curious glance before putting her phone back into her pocket and returning to her run.

“Ahkmenrah. What in the fuck are you doing?”

Ahk flinched when you swore at him, his eyes avoiding your burning gaze as you snatched the axe from his hands and shoved it back into the dufflebag. Your boyfriend finally lost his 4,000-year-old fucking mind at the worst possible time in the weirdest possible way.

“Answer me!”

Ahk took a deep breath and returned your gaze, his eyes filled with such sadness that it pained your heart, reducing your ire for just a moment.  

“I thought a Christmas tree might cheer you up. I have been researching your mid-west holiday traditions and many of them mention the hewing of the family Christmas tree from a local forest. I do not know of any other forest in the city,” he finished, his eyes returning to the ground as his breath puffed out around him.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, hating yourself for being so harsh.

“I am so sorry, love,” you said gently, moving to stand in front of Ahkmenrah, your gloved hands cupping his cheeks to lift his gaze. “I feel horrible for losing my temper.”

“It was terribly unpleasant,” Ahk whispered, his eyes still avoiding yours.

You pulled him to you, holding him close and whispering another apology in his ear. Ahkmenrah’s hands hesitantly encircled your waist before he slowly stepped into the hug.

“I accept your apology.”

You chuckled into his shoulder, shivering, realizing just how cold it was now that your fit of a temper was over.

“There’s a Christmas tree lot on Columbus,” you said, pulling back to look at Ahk, hoping he would once again look at you like you weren’t the grinch.

“A Christmas tree lot?” Ahk asked, his eyes slowly returning to life as you piqued his interest.

“Yes,” you giggled. “Cutting down a tree in Central Park is illegal, ya know.”

“I . . . did not know,” Ahkmenrah said, his polychromatic eyes swirling as his cheeks flushed either from the cold or from embarrassment.

“I should’ve told you how I was feeling,” you said.

“See? Look what happens when you do not communicate with me, Y/N. We could have spent the night imprisoned, and what a surprise for your guardians in arms when they returned to fetch me after dawn.”

“That would be quite the surprise, indeed,” you chuckled darkly, shivering again.

“You are cold, my love,” Ahkmenrah said, moving to wrap you up in another hug.

“You’re not?” you mumbled into his shoulder.

“I could never be cold because your love fills me with the same heat as the desert sun.”

You gave Ahkmenrah a tight squeeze before looking up at him.

“Unless, of course, you choose to scold me again,” Ahk stated. “Then I fear my blood may freeze in my veins, encasing my heart in ice, my corpse blackening with frostbite until I slowly fall to pieces, never to be reassembled.”

You raised your eyebrows at him.

“Too dark?”

“A little melodramatic,” you said with a playful roll of your eyes and a smirk on your lips.

“Let us journey to this Christmas tree lot. Then we will return to your abode where I will keep you warm in all the best ways I know how,” he said, his voice low and steady.

The shiver that ran through your body was not one of cold this time as Ahkmenrah’s words washed over you.

“Thank you, Ahk. This really was a wonderful surprise.”

“I think I shall keep the surprises to a minimum from now on.”

“Or at least ask Larry first.”

Ahkmenrah chuckled uncomfortably. “About Larry—”

“I don’t even want to know how you snuck out. Some things are best left unknown.”

Ahkmenrah grinned at you, that million-dollar smile that melted your heart every time he gifted you with it. You knew this would be a night you would never forget, and as you looked at the city twinkling in the distance, you noticed for the first time that it was starting to snow, tiny flecks falling softly from the sky, their crisp-whiteness encircled with a hazy glow from the city’s lights.  

You snuggled closer to Ahk, feeling the warmth of Christmas for the first time this season.

[retvenkos]

(PART ONE) Hello! Congratulations on your milestone! Can I request a :fire: for Harry Potter? I’m a straight female, My zodiac sign is Scorpio, I’m also a Slytherin. My personality type is Estp-t. I have big goals for my future such as being an actress. I also play the electric guitar and I also really enjoy skateboarding. My favorite music artists are lil peep, Ghostemane, and suicideboys. My friends say that I am very adventurous and I’m emotionally strong.

(PART TWO) they also say that I’m not afraid to take any risks. I can be a bit stubborn at times, I have a hard time trusting people. My aesthetic is a dark grunge. I am an ambivert, I’m not afraid to dream big too. I am also very passionate about witchcraft. I don’t like too much physical contact. I am very protective of my personal space unless I am with someone I’m very close with. Thank you! <3

Harry Potter:

I ship you with Regulus Black!

now, at first this may not seem like the best idea, but i’ve put a lot of thought into this and can say that this is a good idea

from what i gather about scorpios (astrology is not my strong suit) you are the stereotypical slytherin - bold, ambitious, maybe a little secretive... you definitely have the potential to swing either way on the villain/hero scale. you are sharp and intelligent, and more stubborn than anything else, but none of these qualities are necessarily bad. 

truth be told, a lot of these traits are sirius’ personality traits. you’re very similar to him, and therefore, very different from regulus.

where you are bold, regulus is cautious; where you are ready to jump into battle, regulus is patient; where you are defiant, regulus is flexible and goes under the radar; where you are prone to taking risks, regulus is calculated.... and the list goes on.

on the surface, the two of you look like you would never get along - and i’m usually not a fan of opposites attract - but i have some key points that i want to get through to help explain where i’m going with this.

(1) regulus has lived with sirius for his entire life, and since you are so similar to sirius in personality, he understands you really well. of course, he probably doesn’t like you right away, but he knows how you operate and either the teachers catch onto this and make you partners or some of regulus’ friends realize this and task him with getting you to go help them out.

(2) both of you could become either the villain or hero of the story. regulus is a bit of a tragic character, really, because with the push in the right direction, he could have made a lot of change a lot sooner than he did, and maybe the most cruel thing was the time stolen from him. he’s extremely vulnerable to influence, just due to his personality, and so had he been given someone who believed so adamantly in dumbledore and the other side of the war, regulus really could have been the hero - no need for harry potter to grow up, because regulus could have taken center stage and defeated voldemort himself, with the help of the order of the phoenix. from what i know about scorpio, slytherin, estps, you could have a very similar story. because you have all the determination and ambition to go one way, but you are also transformative and can turn with the right influence, and be adamantly the opposite. both you and regulus are perfect for redemption arcs or bastardisation arcs, depending on what influences you have.

and, since you are the more bold and steadfast, of the two, you would be a driving force in regulus’ turn to the good side - you would supply him with all of the confidence and practicality, and the two of you could have honestly stopped voldemort together, that’s in no way a joke.

(3) you are incredibly forgiving, and this is because you have faced the darkness within yourself, so you are not afraid of it when you it in others. furthermore, you are incredibly perceptive and intuitive, so even though you are slow to trust, you know deep down when you can trust someone and perhaps hold them at bay for a while until you are 100%. but when you’ve seen them, and this usually happens early on, you know. you’re just praying your not wrong. (but girl, trust yourself. you are among the most intuitive slytherins out there, and you are rarely wrong).

(4) you both think big! this is usually rare for an estp, but it makes sense since you are a slytherin. you both have goals and will stop at nothing to achieve them. when you and regulus know what you want, you get it, no matter the cost, and that’s really iconic of you.

something i love about you and regulus is that you will bring dreams to him. regulus has never really had the luxury of foreseeing an ideal future for himself, but you are not afraid to dream, and you can bring dreams to him. it’s definitely one of the reasons why he first fell for you - you talk about the future like it’s something meant to be seized, and you talk about dreams like they’re meant to become reality.

i also think that your stubborn side is good for regulus - he can often be gripped with indecision, but you will take the reins and soldier forth with the idea you know think to be the best. you are bold and direct and original, all of which regulus thinks he is not. you are the person that shows him he is, indeed, all of those things - he’s standing up to the dark lord, after all.

(okay, sidebar, but now i really want to read a series with you and regulus. you are fellow pureblood slytherins who believed in supremacist ideologies because you were raised that way, but in your 6th year at hogwarts, the two of you are forced to become death eaters, and slowly from there, you realize what the death eaters truly were - murderers and thieves and terrible, terrible people who are willing to do terrible, terrible things for no real end. and the two of you decide to leave together. you find the first horcrux and succeed in destroying it, and then the two of you start to fight against voldemort alone, until you eventually join the order of the phoenix and start to take voldemort down. in this version, there is no prophecy and harry potter isn’t the boy who lived because you and regulus take down voldemort yourselves. sirius, james, and remus both join your sides (peter can still be a traitor, or not, it’s up to you. same with snape - i feel like without the harry storyline he wouldn’t swap sides.) and we get the marauders plus you two destroying the horcruxes. can you imagine how great that story would be?)

okay i have rambled too long, let me give you some random headcanons.

as i have said before, regulus listens to music religiously so i 100% see the two of you listening to music while on the run, debating about who’s band is better.

and that’s another thing! you guys have debates like no other - it’s really a wonder the two of you care so deeply about each other, because to the untrained eye, you both look like you annoy the hell out of each other, and it’s very funny when people realize you are such good friends.

(oh yeah, enemies to friends to lovers. although now i get just friends vibes, but i’ve put so much effort into this match up.... friends or lovers. your choice)

i definitely think that the two of you have stargazed throughout your travels - regulus probably told you all about his family one night, when you’re looking at the stars, and you comfort him.

oh! since you want to be an actress, headcanon that the two of you have to go undercover as muggles for a while in your attempts to defeat voldemort, and you end up really falling in love with muggle movies, and after the two of you have a marathon one night (maybe you get a night off or something, idk), you talk about how you want to be an actress. and then, regulus prompts you to dream for him - what would this actress life be like, if when it happens?

and you spin an entire story for him, a dream - a hopeful one - without the war and the suffering, without magic and death eaters, where the two of you are happy - you as an actress, and regulus as a screenwriter, only crafting the most complex of characters for you to play.

and he’s pleasantly shocked that he’s in this dream of yours, and you confidently tell him that no matter where you go, he’ll always be there, at your side. “you can’t get rid of me now, you realize that, don’t you? you’re stuck with me, black.”

and he doesn’t say anything in that moment, but he thinks that maybe that’s not such a bad dream, after all.

okay, i popped off with this one, but now i really want this regulus story to be a THING,,,,,,,,,,, ugh. can you imagine how great it would be? okay, just imagine if it were a mini series and it had the greatest soundtrack ever, and the palate was dark greens and blacks,,,,,, i got carried away but can you imagine.

[some-mad-lunge]

What Might Have Been - Malex Fic

Alex leaves Roswell the day after his and Michael’s almost kiss. He comes back for his high school reunion and realizes some things never change, like the way a certain curly haired boy makes him feel. (Malex AU)

This is for @fraudulentzodiacs​ to make her smile. You are loved darling.

***************************

You can’t go home again, isn’t that what they say? What they should say is don’t go home again. Alex Manes had made that vital mistake, gone home and he regretted it. Why? Because he was sitting in a rented luxury SUV, AC running as he tried to pump himself up enough to get out of the damn car.

He’d had his reasons for wanting to show up his 10 year high school reunion but he couldn’t remember them right now.

Well two reasons actually, only two and he did remember them.

First, to throw a John Hughes style middle finger to the four years of hell he’d had within those walls and the people who’d made it that way.

The second? To lay eyes one more time on the boy that was the only reason those same years were even slightly bearable.

Alex wasn’t usually nostalgic, which was ironic given that he was a songwriter. He was paid large amounts of money to make melodies and prose into art, to make people feel something. It didn’t mean he always saw the beauty in the sunset or in the healing of a broken heart. It didn’t mean he looked backwards at all. He normally avoided it at all costs.

It just happened that his invitation to the reunion had arrived less than 48 hours after his interview with Rolling Stone. He’d been picked, along with nine other songwriters, to be a part of their “Voices Of A Generation” issue. It was a tremendous honour and a validation he’d never known he’d needed until he had it.

It didn’t matter that he had two Grammy’s, countless other awards and chart topping hits. It didn’t matter that he had Beyoncé’s and Taylor Swift’s personal numbers saved in his cell phone. It didn’t matter that he had a house in Malibu and an apartment in Manhattan. It didn’t matter what anyone in Roswell thought about him then or what they thought now, especially not Alex’s father.

No, what mattered was that he'd been chosen by Rolling Stone to represent the voice of the very people who had shunned him back in the day. They had tried to make him hate who he was and had failed miserably in their attempts.

Now they listened to his message, they sang along to his lyrics and that was a fuck you very much he wasn’t going to turn down delivering.

But none of it, not one single bit of it, would have been possible without Michael Guerin.

Alex could still remember it like it was yesterday, Michael’s lips, Michael’s eyes. Warm breath on Alex’s face and the moment of finally before it was gone and the soul crushing love of his life had pulled away before it could even begin. Instead it ended and so did any reason to hang on.

If that hadn’t happened Alex wouldn’t have packed his bags that night. He wouldn't have taken out all his savings, bought a bus ticket and gotten out of New Mexico before anyone knew he was gone. He wouldn’t have sat staring out the window as the dessert went by, not bothering to hide his tears as he wrote “Cosmic Love” in his spiral notebook.

It was a song about a love that you can run from but never leave behind. The kind of love that is everywhere and in everything, that sustains you just as much as it makes you bleed. A love that only two people could understand. The love Alex had always felt for Michael.

The lyrics had flowed out of him in one go, the notes he played the first time at a rest stop under a flickering light at 2:00am.

A song that less than a year later made the gay teenage outcast of Roswell a force to be reckoned with.

If Michael hadn’t taken away Alex’s only reason to stay, he never would have left. Alex felt like he owed Michael somehow for crushing his heart.

It hadn’t been that easy of course, but for once luck had been on Alex’s side. Los Angeles had been the escape he’d always dreamed of. He met people like himself, the outcasts, the freaks and the artists. He’d met boys, and men, unashamed to look him up and down, desire him. He’d been allowed to kiss in coffee shops and hold someone’s hand at the beach. He’d sat in the sand and played his guitar in between shifts at the souvenir kiosk where he’d gotten a job.

He’d been in LA six months when he’d met Jason. Alex strummed his guitar, black polish chipping off his nails, hard cement of the boardwalk under him. Jason, who had a voice like honey, sat beside him out of the blue one day and started singing along. Jason, who instantly became his best friend, and then shortly after became Jason Rast.

Cosmic Love had been Jason’s first single off his debut album, and it changed both of their lives.

Alex Manes might write the voice of a generation but Jason Rast sang it, gave it life. He was the epitome of a rock star with a heart of gold. Fame hadn’t changed him, or their friendship. Or how much he liked to text.

Jason - Have you seen him yet? Did he get fat? I bet he got fat.

Alex - I’m hiding in the parking lot.

Jason - You know you have two Grammy’s right? Fuck those people.

Alex - Why did I want to do this again?

Jason- Do you want me to send a jet to come get you? We could go to Vegas. Adam Levine is there, he always throws a good bender.

Alex - You hate Levine.

Jason - Everyone hates him. It’s like a rule.

Alex - No. I’m going to do this. I can do this.

Jason - MY MAN!

Jason - Let me know if he got fat.

Alex pulled himself out of the car, smoothed the front of his button down shirt. He could have gone full celebrity and worn something designer. That was probably what everyone was expecting of him but it didn’t mean that’s who Alex was. Sure his jeans were probably too expensive by most people’s standards but they made his ass look amazing. He did have to face the unrequited love of his life after all.

He walked through the parking lot filled with cars but void of people. He could hear the music coming from the open gym doors, the muffled voices of his past. The sun was starting to set, casting everything in moody pinks and reds.

For some reason he headed towards the football field. Not that Alex had ever played the sport or even gone to a game unless dragged there. No, he’d spent his time under the bleachers playing his guitar or smoking a cigarette when he should have been in class pretending anyone at home gave a shit about him.

Alex had perfected being moody and pissed about the unfairness of life as a teenager. It had been warranted but it was still a damn cliche.

He finally stopped with his hands in his pockets, took in the spot he’d sat with Maria or Liz, sometimes even Michael, but mostly alone. Just him and his guitar. This place seemed bigger back then, the whole world had.

“Looks exactly the same doesn’t it?” The voice from behind Alex didn’t make him jump, it never had. Instead it slide over him like a caress, heat and smoke, easy to fall into if he wanted. He took a deep breath and looked over his shoulder.

Time had been good to Michael Guerin. Correction, time had been sucking Michael Guerin’s dick and thanking him for the pleasure. He looked like sex personified, low slung jeans and curls that Alex still wished he had felt against his fingers just one time.

Michael was a little older, a little rougher around the edges but he still made a shiver go up Alex’s spine. It was like being 18 all over again.

“Of all the things I expect to change in this world Roswell isn’t one of them.” Alex smiled through the words. It was Michael and even when breaking Alex’s heart he was still the best thing about this God awful town.

He got a grin back, Michael walking forward so Alex can meet him in the handshake/half hug that seems to be the straight man staple. He felt breath on his cheek for a second so it was worth it.

“I can’t believe you came.” Michael seemed genuinely happy to see Alex, which he had to admit surprised him.

“Me neither.” He’s a liar but no one needs to know that.

“FYI, Isobel has your Rolling Stones cover up on the “Alumni Wall Of Fame.” It’s right next to Marcus Boyle’s USDGC gold medal.”

“USDGC?”

“United States Disc Golf Championship.”

Alex can’t stop the punch of laughter that escapes. Michael always did that to him, made him feel without fear. Alex could laugh or he could cry but it was easy, and it was safe.

“Is the medal in the shape of a frisbee?” Alex can’t help but meet Michael’s eyes, fascinated that they are exactly the same as he remembers them. Exactly like he still dreamed about most nights.

“No, but now that I think about it that is clearly a gross oversight.”

They stand side by side, their snorts of laughter fading into comfortable silence. Their kind of comfortable, with a pop of electricity that snapped between them. Alex would never forget how devastated he’d been when he realized he was the only one that had ever felt it.

He kind of wants to go back in time and give 18 year old Alex a hug. At 28 he’s unsure how to handle this feeling, 10 years ago must have been terrifying. He doesn’t remember it that way. Michael had never scared him, Michael had fascinated him.

“Should we head in?” Alex turned to the gym, as ready as he’d ever be to face the masses, but a hand on his arm stopped him. The fingers are so hot Alex wasn’t sure how he didn’t catch on fire. He had to fight the part of him that just wanted to press those hands to his bare skin and burn alive.

“Or we could hide under the bleachers with the cooler of beer I put there just in case.” Michael’s smile is small, and if Alex has read it right, a little bit unsure. A peace offering? Which was ridiculous, it wasn’t Michael’s fault that he hadn’t felt the way Alex always did.

No, it wasn’t anyone’s fault that Alex had spent most of his life continuously falling for Michael Guerin.

Alex had been so heartbroken he hadn’t realized when he’d run away he wasn’t the only one who had lost something. Michael had been Alex’s ideal, but Alex had been Michael’s friend. One of the choice few. For a moment he was ashamed of himself. But Alex had done what he needed to do for his own survival back then. He shouldn’t regret it now, but seeing Michael’s face, a part of him did. Alex owed him, even if it would probably smash his heart all over again.

“Lead the way cowboy.”

They ducked under metal bars and squeezed through small openings to get to Alex’s favourite hideaway. It was perfectly hidden, right where two sets of bleachers met in a corner. There were two blankets and cooler with a black cowboy hat perched on top. As Michael sat Alex pulled out his phone, took a picture of the initials he’d scrawled in black sharpie back in the day.

AM WAS HERE/QUEER.

There’s other initials now, some with the same message as his. It makes him feel connected to the kids who came after. The ones who hid here just like he had. He wonders if he’d helped anyone feel less alone.

Alex suddenly feels suffocated by Michael’s gaze, like it’s running the length of him in a slow trail. He’s imagining it, he knows he is, but he lets himself.

Finally he sits across from Michael, his legs tucked as comfortably as he can on the blanket left for him. He gladly takes the beer bottle handed his way, sighs after a long sip.

“So Guerin, do anything interesting in the last 10 years?”

And yeah, Michael’s laugh still sends Alex’s stomach into somersaults. Some things just never changed.

*********

They’re three beers in, the initial awkwardness gone. Their legs are spread out in front of them, Alex is mesmerized by the warmth of Michael’s thigh against his calf. It makes him want what he can’t have, but it’s a feeling he’s used to.

Alex is surprised that Michael never left Roswell, never went to university like he planned. He’s cagey on the details so Alex doesn’t push. Guerin doesn’t seem unhappy but he’s also not content. There’s something missing in his life. Alex can tell. They were always the same, the two of them.

They keep it light and easy. Alex shares stories of LA and the lack of glamor. How he enjoys fame without actually being famous enough to be recognized on the street. He’ll be the first to admit his life isn’t as exciting as people think.

Michael catches him up on Roswell and how much everything is basically exactly the same.

“I was sad to find out the museum closed, I thought I would check and see if they had any new displays.” Alex meant it as a joke but he watches something akin to pain flash in Michael’s eyes. Maybe it’s the shadows from the flood lights, or maybe…

“Michael?!” Alex would know that voice anywhere, Isobel Evans on the warpath. The beer had made him loose, or maybe it’s the insanity of the situation but he can’t help himself. He starts to giggle.

Michael shushes him but it’s no use, Alex can hear the click of Isobel’s heels as they come closer. He can’t stop, he just keeps imaging the blonde princess’s face if she discovers them. That is until Michael reaches forward, one hand to the back of Alex neck and the other to cover his giggling mouth.

He freezes, because suddenly he’s overcome with the warmth surrounding him. The fizz in his stomach now a full blown tornado and the sensation of fingers softly digging into his skin. Michael’s eyes are locked with his, and the world just melts away. He doesn’t know if Isobel has left. He doesn’t know if he’s dreaming but he can’t help himself. That was always his problem. His heart has a mind of its own and it’s always said one thing over and over again.

Michael.

He does the most insane and yet natural thing before he can think better of it, and presses his lips to Michael’s palm in a soft kiss. He does it selfishly, for himself. So Alex can say once, just once, that he got to.

Michael’s eyes soften, his hand gone from Alex’s mouth. Instead it palms Alex’s cheek, a calloused thumb ghosting against his mouth. The moan it brings out of him, Alex would be ashamed of it wasn’t the most honest sound he’s ever made.

It’s there, that flash of heat in Michael’s eyes. The one Alex always thought he’d imagined. It’s real this time and it’s everything he remembers.

They meet in the middle, wet and open from the start. Michael’s tongue a direct shock to his dick, already hard and wanting. Alex wants to weep when he finally gets to slide his fingers into that hair, feel the curls catch and release. He tastes like beer and every good memory Alex ever had.

Michael’s hands are greedy and they’re everywhere. Alex feels the imprint of them long after they slide from his shoulders to his waist, a hard tug as they fist into his shirt. Somehow he’s dragged into Michael’s lap, the earth hard on his knees as he grinds down. It makes Alex whimper, he has to lose those lips to gasp for breath and hold on.

Michael’s arms are holding him so tight, a hand sliding up under his shirt, teeth scraping against his neck. It makes his hips move faster, chasing something he can’t even name. They’re rhythm and Michael’s quick movements are going to end him.

Warm lips drag a path to his ear, breath heavy and wanton. “Always knew it would be like this.”

It sends shockwaves through Alex, digs in deep, the reality that he hadn’t been the only one all those years ago. That he isn’t the only one currently drowning now.

“Michael…”

He’s grasped tighter, held fast and whatever he was about to say disappears. They’re lined up perfectly and Alex has never hated denim more in his life. He wants to slow this down, take his time. He wants to imprint everything to memory, horde it for the lonely nights that are sure to follow. Michael won’t let him, maybe he can’t. It doesn’t matter, not anymore.

Alex needs to kiss him again, so he does. They’re too out of breath, too keyed up. They’re just panting into each other’s mouths and lighting the world on fire. It’s all happening so fast, years of feeling focused into right here and right now.

He’s so close, he’s so fucking close to dying and he can’t get their soon enough. Michael bites Alex’s bottom lip, pain and pleasure and everything in between. He forces his gaze to stay on Michael’s face, that fierce look of possession mixed with awe. Every dream Alex ever had paled in comparison to the real thing.

“Come on baby. I’ve waited a decade for this, don’t deny me now.”

That’s all it takes, the demand in Michael’s words and what they really mean. It’s pulled out of Alex, like a gut punch of galaxies, the burn of the sun. He’s not alone, he feels all of it. Michael’s pleasure, his own eternity and bliss, quakes with it in every nerve ending.

Finally he floats back down, weightless and perfect. His arms still wrapped around Michael, his face pressed into soft flannel. He never wants to let go. Hands are still clutched into his skin. Unheard words are whispered into his shoulder. Alex just tries to relearn how to breathe.

It’s fingers on his face that finally has him moving again, their foreheads pressed together.

“What the fuck was that?” Alex kisses it into Michael’s mouth, in awe of how much he still wants him. How much he always has, how much he always will.

Michael pulls back, runs his thumbs over Alex’s cheeks. His eyes are bright and brilliant, his voice clearer than it has any right to be.

“Cosmic Love.”

Alex stills for a second, has to close his own eyes from what it makes him feel. He never thought Michael would know the song was about him. He should of, of course he should have, who else could it have ever been?

“I went looking for you the next day. Searched everywhere. If I could go back...” Michael’s looking at him like he used to, another thing Alex hadn’t imagined after all. “I knew you’d leave Alex, but you were always supposed to take me with you.”

Alex sees it all in Michael's eyes, all the loneliness and pain of the past reflected back at him. So much regret it breaks his heart all over again. Only this time, this time Alex gets to do it right.

“How quickly can you pack?” He means it, God does Alex mean it. Presses his lips all over Michael’s face, soft and sweet. Years of love he finally gets to show, to give to the boy who helped Alex survive. Now the man he still feels every bit of it for.

Michael stops his caresses, something shutters in his eyes and it hurts. Alex feels the world start to cave in. He tries to pull away, because he can’t lose this again. Not after what they just shared, he won’t survive it.

“No, don’t.” Michael holds fast, searches Alex’s face. “I just need to tell you something first. It might...it could change things.”

“It won’t.” Alex knows it couldn’t.

“Alex…”

He runs his fingers through curls, revels in finally being allowed to.

“I promise you, it won’t.”

They’re still pressed together under the bleachers when Alex learns the truth. It should shock him, it should scare him. It doesn’t, not even a little. He just listens and he believes and none of it matters.

It’s Michael and him, it’s them and what they’ve always been. It’s cosmic, and now Alex knows why.

[jeanstoppable]

17th & 18th OF OCTOBER

hop, step, jump

fuck your pride

(A/N: Fun fact! This oc is based on a dream of mine AND they exist on the same universe as Yelena/Yasemin, my villain oc. Now, buckle up cause it’s time for some Cyberpunk goodness.)

Supposedly, there’s an unspoken rule that whatever background you came from, rich or piss poor or somewhere in between, as long as you end up in the streets, you’ll always be at the bottom of the system. Unless you fight your way up---that is to say, if you survive the climb.

“Hey!” A voice called out from behind.

I stopped walking and peeked over my shoulder, expecting trouble that’s usually present around these parts to have finally found me and lo and behold, a bunch of ‘thugs’ were waiting at the entrance of the alley. Four people differentiating in sizes, three men and one woman, their dark silhouettes painted by the bright neon lights behind them were nothing short of intimidating. 

My eyes darted to the walls of the two surrounding buildings, measuring the distance between each window, the extending pipes and the height of both structures. Scalable. There was also that fire exit just ahead, I reminded myself as I mulled over what will happen within the next 10 minutes. 

A fight, no doubt.

I glanced at the floating holographic numbers on my wrist, taking into account the time and---the meeting that was about to start soon.

Escaping might be the more reasonable choice but...

I hate taggers.

Blowing out a rough sigh, I turned my attention back to the group who was now leisurely cruising towards me, wearing devilish grins and haughty gazes. Some of them were even cracking their knuckles while exchanging unashamed jabs about having first dibs grated on my ears---and my nerves.

Oh boy. Things are about to get interesting.

My lips curled into a snarl as I repressed the overwhelming urge to be the one to draw first blood. Instead, I focused on scrutinising them individually from top to bottom: their gadgets, clothes, bags, shoes. Anything of importance at all that I can lift and hopefully sell.

It only took a moment to finish the assessment, if you know how to estimate things from face value. 

After gathering enough information, I spun to fully face them, smirking provokingly as I loosened the straps of my bag, letting it hang on my fingers and then swinging it.

“Alright, assholes!” I whistled cheerfully before letting the venom bleed into my tone, “Whoever’s got first dibs, you’re up.”

Each of them looked taken aback for a second but then their expressions darkened, my words finally registering as insults, as they should, and then immediately charged forward.

I halted the swinging of my bag.

It was the slightly skinny man that approached me first, I figured he was the leader or something along those lines because he was the one barking the most---however… I narrowed my eyes and observed as the man tossed his shoulder back and aimed a fist at my face. I ducked to avoid it, then I tightened my grip on the straps of my bag and swung it to his side, hitting him square in the ribs----accompanied by a distinct crack and a metal clanking noise.

The man howled in pain as his body smashed into the wall to the left.

One down. Ignoring the groans, I stepped over the crumpled man’s legs and stared down the group with a raised chin. 

I huffed and then pointedly tilted my head at the others, “Next?”

The second one didn’t hesitate to attack, taking on the challenge. There was an enraged expression on his face as he reached forward with knees bent and back lowered while his arms went wide to try and trap me in a grapple. Seeing through him, I grabbed my bag with both hands, feeling the solid weight of the robotics inside, and rushed forward to match the man’s attack. 

Right before his arms would’ve caught me, I clutched the bag close and whacked it in his face, successfully causing him to lose balance. 

Taking advantage of this, I lifted a boot and launched a strike to his thigh, swiftly bringing him to his knees. Without a second to waste, I twisted on my heels to deliver the final kick to the side of his head, waiting for the satisfying thud of his body hitting the ground---

There was a blur of shadow to my right and before I knew it, excruciating pain bloomed in my stomach. 

The third came quicker than I anticipated, it was the woman, who didn’t wait for the fight to finish as she sneaked up on me and ruthlessly swung the bat directly to my gut. I hit the ground a second later after the previous guy did, landing on my ass hard. Fucking ouch. 

I shot a glare at the woman and within her grasp was the source of my injury, which was a goddamn light-up metal baseball bat.

“Bitch, don’t get ahead of yourself.” The woman hissed.

My blood’s boiling even more now. I bit the inside of my cheek to hold in the groan that was about to escape me as I willed myself to get up, slightly making it look like I’m struggling more than I actually was and then ripped off the mask covering half my face. 

Hook, line and sinker.

Puffing proudly, she took a step forward closer and was about to pitch another hit when I hastily seized my arms around her hips and forcefully pushed, knocking the woman off her feet as she fell backwards on the asphalt. I wasted no time to straddle her, trying to wrestle off the bat from the woman’s tight grip, but what the hell, she wasn’t letting go at all.

Letting out a frustrated growl, I took a hold of her collar, pulled it towards me, and then spat the blood that I’ve been purposely pooling in my cheeks in her face. 

As expected, she shrieked in shock and disgust, momentarily forgetting about the bat and easing her hold on it---

Now! 

Jumping into action, I snatched the bat, wrapping it around my fingers and drove its hilt straight to her forehead, knocking the woman unconscious as she slumped to the ground without any further hassle.

“Fuck...Goodnight to you.” I grumbled out, panting and breathing heavily before I steeled myself to glance at the last person left. 

“Okay, one more.” One more and then I’m fucking going home.

It was another man, his frame was slightly wider and larger than the others I’d beaten so far. He stood only a few meters away and I swear he hasn’t moved an inch since the beginning. Enjoying the show? I almost wanted to say but kept it in as I studied him a bit more.

So he’s the boss.

I slowly got to my feet, not taking my eyes off the man as I flaunted the newly acquired weapon to my side, the bat’s cool metal surface feeling quite nicely in my palm.

“Ready when you are,” I said with a raised brow and a cocked hip.

He regarded me for a few seconds, his face hidden in the shadows, before bringing up a hand to his right arm and surprising me by tearing away at the sleeve, the cloth ripping into ribbons to reveal---a bionic limb.

My gaze brightened. Bingo.

While he probably saw me dead, I saw him...as a means of profit. 

A smile took over my features, “That might sell a pretty penny,” I coughed out.

The man let out a savage cry as he shot forward, his robotic arm poised to strike and or grab. I counted his heavy footsteps as I prepared the bat and gripped it with both hands, waiting for him to get closer. 

Once he got near, I noticed traces of a smile dancing on his lips---Fuck, too late---and then his forearm suddenly popped off its socket. Those metal fingers soared and latched themselves around my bicep, squeezing painfully. I grit my teeth, thinking it would bruise later if he didn’t let up soon. 

But the man wasn’t done yet. His eyes glinted dangerously and pulled on the wire connecting the detachable limb to the rest of his bionic arm.

I panicked as I got yanked roughly by my bicep, “Shit…!” Cursing my luck, I tried hitting him with the bat but it lacked enough momentum to actually do damage. So he merely stopped the attack with his other arm and smacked the weapon out of my grasp.

I was being slammed into a wall the next second, a pained gasp slipping out of me whilst black spots swam in my vision, just barely registering the man’s words.

“Where’s that bravado now, huh?” The man sneered, bringing his face real close to mine.

I cringed at the distance, wishing I hadn’t taken off my mask earlier, and clutched him by the nape---then crashed my forehead against his. I knew it would take much more than a headbutt to release me but I only intended to disorientate him.

That small moment of distraction was all I needed to snake my free arm around my back as I grabbed something from the hem of my pants and pulled it out by its handle.

“Right here, fucker.”

I brandished the weapon in front of me and clicked on the switch, the buzz of electricity split the air as the stun baton hummed with power, producing small yet lethal blue sparks.

The man paled. I grinned.

Before he could protect himself, I arched the baton and jammed it into a narrow gap in his bionic arm. The reaction was instantaneous as those metal fingers involuntarily opened and dropped uselessly, the electronics inside malfunctioning. The man himself was in shock, never getting the chance to see the punch heading straight for his nose. 

I bitterly smiled whilst hearing a satisfying crack the moment my fist landed.

I shoved against his chest, pushing him back a couple of steps as he held his bleeding nose, “Y-you...you bitch...!” 

I stared at him, my expression impassive, and shook my head.

“This’ll fuckin’ hurt,” I say to him before zipping forward, baton ready to strike once more.

. . . 

It was the memories that motivated me, helped me get up in bed every single day, the reason for me to keep going and going---because they were the only permanent things I have left in my life. 

I tucked away the stolen bionic arm inside my bag along with the rest of what I managed to collect today. My eyes shuttered as I remembered a rather specific memory: my younger self and my father having multiple discussions about our extremely flawed society, still is, and the people who run the streets, making an adamant point about never stooping to their level. 

If only I knew back then how people, including us, will react when faced with complete desperation and defeat..

It was a lesson I had to learn quite painfully.

A merciless beating and almost bleeding half to death behind some old abandoned factory. 

“Fuck your pride.” They spat and then just left, taking off with my shit. Everything I owned.

That was 3 years ago. 

“Fuck my pride, huh...” I bit back darkly, “Might as well fuck everyone else’s too.”

I did one final sweep at the bodies littering in the alley before running towards the fire exit stairs, hauling myself up and up, the wound on my stomach burning by the time I made it to the building’s rooftop and just leaned against a wall to rest a bit.

Bzzt. Bzzt.

Without looking, I swiped a finger across my wrist.

It needed a few seconds for the transmission to go through and then a familiar scolding voice boomed in my ears, 

“Where the hell are you? The meeting’s about to begin.”

That damned meeting.

“...Can’t I just skip it?” I rasped, my voice sounding foreign even to me.

There was a pause and I held my breath.

“Get your ass over here,” the voice growled out and I resisted the urge to groan in defeat, “You’re not missing the meeting twice in a row.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m on my way.” 

. 

.

.

“...Is it okay if I’m a bit late?”

“Get moving.”

(A/N: AHHHH, I’M HAVING FLASHBACKS TO MY UNRELEASED TOKYO GHOUL FIC. Anyways, I kinda lowkey love writing action. I swear it’s because of the Cyberpunk theme in this. I hope ya’ll enjoyed this, I might want to expand more on this character’s lore, there’s tons to unpack, so be ready for that! ALSO IM LATE LIKE REALLY LATE SO YEAH PEACE)

[superjennysunshine]

Day 3: Building a better Pokémon Game

!

I had ideas for like a better Pokémon game so I’m gonna write them out instead of that horrific shit I wrote yesterday.

Crazy Starters: Starting out with one of your first actions in game, I think that the typing of starters should get crazier. Not that it should change from your starters being Fire, Water, and Grass types, but they should grow into crazier combos. Imagine choosing a fire starter and ending with a fire ghost, or choosing water and ending with water bug, or grass electric. Idk if any of those combos are good examples but I think crazier dual type starters would be cool.

Better Routes: I think that expanded area concepts would be cool. Most of the time the routes are just as complex as find your way from point A to point B and like that’s fine but I feel like there’s so much more that could be done. Imagine you come across route 14, a lush forest filled with the typical types of Pokémon. But there’s a level 60 Ursaring on a rampage through the forest. It’s up to you to make your way through the route silently, avoiding the massive Ursaring by hiding in tall grass and behind trees where you encounter wild Pokémon. What if the Ursaring Felled large trees or crushed stones along the way, creating paths across the route, maybe even you have to do something to insight the Ursaring to come near. Imagine route 23, a massive bridge extending across a large river. On the bridge Team Star as we’ll call them in this fake installment of Pokémon, has set up a base blocking trainers and everyday citizens from crossing the bridge unless they pay a heavy toll fee. Your trainer has to venture to the river below and fight past wild Pokémon to a ladder that leads all the to a back (or should I say bottom?) entrance and drive Team Star out from the inside of their own base. While your trainer is in the base they’ll discover Team Star’s plan was to harvest resources and Pokémon from the river below and make money to fund the nefarious operation from the tolls at the same time. I think creative routes layered throughout the journey would be super awesome. Side Quests: Sword and Shields Wild Area was great in concept but in my opinion poor in execution. Instead of a wild area, make them wild areas, large parts of the map that serve as occasional separation between routes. Put in small hamlets, buildings, ruins and caves to explore, but most importantly, side quests. Imagine you are in a town in this game, we’ll call it Oar Town for the sake of naming it, and when you’re in the town you meet an NPC with a ! over his head, so you speak to him and he says that his son is a Pokemon breeder who went out on a expedition to Trilo Cave, in Manwa Peninsula (the name of the Wild Area) So when you leave the town you travel around the Manwa Peninsula and you find Trilo Cave, you travel through the cave, breaking large boulders and fighting Wild Pokemon until you find a strong Exploud and are forced to defeat it. After you do you encounter the mans son who tells you the Exploud attacked him during the expedition, and caused a large rockfall all across the cave, trapping him inside, and that he’d been hiding from the creature with his pokemon ever since. I think things like this would not only serve to make the Pokemon Experience so much more meaningful in the end and utilize Wild Areas a lot better. Better Gyms: Gyms in Pokemon are boring. At least to me. I’ve come to realize it’s because gyms are almost entirely type based and so if you have a pokemon that’s the right type which often times you will, you’ll almost always sweep the gym every time. Gyms should not be focused on Types and instead focused on a form of Strategy. Maybe a Gym where you face different Opponents in double battles, their first pokemon will try to inflict Status’s on your pokemon and the second will attempt to capitalize on that status with attacks. You know just interesting strategies, after all Gyms in the series exist as a test of the trainers merit, but it never feels like their skill is tested when all it comes down to is fire kill grass you win. Gyms should also be longer and have maybe small story arcs of their own. Imagine a assertive and narcissistic gym leader who claims you will never beat him, so you make your way through the gym, solving the puzzles (btw Gyms should follow similar design as the route idea i had above) and battling the trainers and working your way around the strategy of the gy until finally you make it to the top. You fight the Gym leader and with every one of his pokemon you defeat he becomes angrier shouting at you in fury until you get his last pokemon below half health at which point he screams and stops the battle, commanding his pokemon to stop you at all costs. His final pokemon, lets say it’s a magnezone fires out a huge beam of electricity, not at your Pokemon, but at you. Your trainer dodges out of the way and the blast just happens to hit a conveniently exposed part of the wall. Which shuts off the power to the entire Gym. As the Magnezone keeps attacking you are forced to retreat to a broom closet at the very beginning of the gym. Now the Gym has changed. The Gym Leader sits in the lobby, blocking the front door of the gym, vowing to defeat a “lowly loathsome little Trainer Like you.” But through the crack in the doorway of the closet you notice a large vent directly above the door. So now you must sneak through the vents of the gym, making your way through closets and bathrooms, fighting trainers who eventually reveal themselves as Team Star members with the Gym Leader as their captain! You make it to the vent by the door and sneak up on the Gym Leader surprising him and initiating the final battle. When you defeat him this time, he is taken by the local authorities, and you are given the Gym badge as a symbol of a job well done. Doesn’t all that just sound fucking AWESOME!? cause it does to me.

Difficulty Modes: So obviously Pokemon is a franchised made for children, i get that, but, It’s also a franchise that has been around for YEARS with a huge adult demographic and one of the biggest complaints about current pokemon is it’s too easy and it is. So We introduce difficulty. From the very start of the game you can choose one of two difficulties; Normal, or Advanced. Normal is pokemon difficulty as it is today horrifically easy to every degree. But Advanced is more like the classics, Trainers are a bit higher level, type advantages matter a little bit less than they do on Normal, The potential for a trainers strategy to overwhelm you is alot higher, and Pokemon in gyms are changed up, giving Gyms a much more challenging feel than on normal.

anyway that’s all the ideas i have for now so Gamefreak if you’re hiring hit a bitch up lets make the Pokemon Code Red and Baja Blast dream a reality.

DAY 3 NEWS: Today’s been cool, played Xenoblade, still really fun. About to play FFXIV, know it’ll be fun. I’ve also made a plan to spice up my room a bit cause it’s kinda boring in here, it starts with buying some led lights to hang up near my ceiling! Exciting developments happening over here at Strato HQ.

[eyesfixedonthesun22]

Black Coffee: Part 4

Summary: Coffee aroma surrounds you as you prepare for a long day of studying in your favorite coffee shop. Your focus is shattered by a handsome stranger demanding a very large favor-pretend to be his girlfriend.  Pairing: Bucky x Female Reader Warning(s): Cursing. Innocent fluff. Hints at sexual situations. Word Count: 1,925 Beta Reader: My darling honey bun, @supersoldiersruined-me Notes: I wasn’t planning on making this a series...and yet there are now 5 parts. Which ended up working out perfectly with my Fire Pit scenario prompt for @beckzorz 1K challenge. Thanks Becca for hosting this and congrats on 1K.

The walk to Quay 4 only takes a couple of minutes; one of the pluses about staying at your apartment and not at the tower with Bucky. The occasional jingle of your keys against the glass growler act like windchimes in the early fall breeze. You round the corner of the final block and come face to face with one of your favorite views of the city. The East River is nestled between lush trees. Some of them have started show hints of the color change at their edges but most are vibrant green determined to hold onto the last remnants of summer. The Brooklyn Bridge is in the backdrop, already beginning to fill with morning commuters you note. That last detail has you pick up your pace a bit.

The barista at the coffeeshop greets you by name as you hand over the growler to be filled with cold brew. It should last the two of you your entire trip. You also order some pastries, your regular hot coffee, and Bucky’s black with 15 sugars. The barista doesn’t bat an eye.

“Where is the sugar addict and the pups anyway?”

The two of you clearly came to the shop too often.

“He should be walking back from the dog park now with both of the mutts and packing the last bits into the car.”

“Packing?”

“As celebration for me being done with school we’re headed up to Adirondack State Park. We’re taking both the fluff balls and camping for a week.” You quickly shoot off a text to Bucky telling him your on your way back. You hope the car is packed so you can start the seven hour drive and beat the worst of the traffic. “No work, no school, and maybe no cell service if we’re lucky.”

The barista wishes you a safe trip and hands over the growler. It’s cool to the touch and feels pleasant during the walk back. Despite fall officially arriving next week, the weather in Brooklyn still felt warm. You knew it could very well change further north.

You truly couldn’t believe it was fall already. Truth be told, you hadn’t had much of a summer as it was filled with classes, papers, and final exams to wrap up your graduate degree. Somewhere in the haze and craziness, you and Bucky had passed your one year anniversary.

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You’d been surrounded by pens and textbooks. Notecards littered the floor in semi-organized piles. Bucky had let you lock yourself in your office all day to study for a particularly challenging exam. It wasn’t until bedtime, you remember, he’d tapped on your office door. Both Ruby and Rufus had assaulted you with kisses and demanded pets from their long lost mother. Being engrossed in the puppy love, you hadn’t realized Bucky had entered and brought in a cupcake with a single candle.

“Happy Anniversary, doll.” He had said with a sleepy but beaming smile. “I know you’re studying, so I don’t want to derail your progress, but I love you. I can’t wait until we can celebrate.”

You’d started sobbing. You weren’t sure if it was the thoughtfulness, the sleep deprivation, or the fact you’d been so stressed you’d forgotten the anniversary all together. Bucky had understood of course. This trip was a delayed anniversary trip of sorts in addition to celebration grad school being completed. The memory was a fond one and you hoped the trip would be the celebration you both deserved.

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You turn onto your street and are greeted by a stunning view of your boyfriends plump backside. The rest of him is buried, digging around in the back of the jeep no doubt triple checking the camping supplies. Your catcall and whistle startles Bucky and alerts the dogs of your return.

“Hey hot stuff!” You come up and smack his behind. “I got some cold bean juice for you.”

“I love cold bean juice...but don’t tell my girlfriend I prostituted my behind for it.” He pulls you into a quick hug and kiss, lightly squeezing your own bottom.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You stow the coffee in with the rest of your food in the cooler. “I’m certain your girlfriend is too busy wondering if everything is packed and if we still have a chance on beating traffic.”

“Then I would ask why my girlfriend is talking in third person and has travel tendencies like some 55 year old suburban father.” He scoffs; a lopsided smile playing on his lips before he takes a long pull from his coffee. “But yes, everything is packed and ready to go.”

You call the dogs up into the backseat and haul yourself into the passenger side. Bucky slides his mirror aviators off the top of his head and onto his face, queues the road trip playlist you’d both made the night prior, and coaxes the jeeps engine to life.  

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The drive had gone smooth enough. The polished, hard, grey surfaces of the city had melted and changed into open roads surrounded by multicolored countryside. You found yourself ignoring all the books and things you’d brought to pass the time and embraced staring out the window. It was relaxing to look out at the farmhouses or abandoned buildings and imagine what lives had been lived in them and what the people had been like. Bucky had decided to turn the drive into his own personal concert series and sang each and every song with gusto until his throat started to get sore.

Bucky had insisted you guys chose one the rustic sites far away from the loop of traditional campsites with water and electric (and near the showers you’d noted). Something about “it’s not real camping if you can charge your phone”. After checking in with the ranger and procuring a map, you drove off in the direction of your plot.

You had to hand it to him for choosing a beautiful spot. He’d certainly done his research. The site was heavily wooded along the dirt path leading up to it. It opened up to a medium sized clearing which is more than large enough to park the Jeep and set up camp. On the east side of the clearing was a creek. If you had to guess, it was probably a moderate size tributary by the steady rushing of water sounds against the stone banks but likely no larger than five feet across. On the west side there was a smattering of wild flowers basking in the sunshine. During your admiration of the site, Bucky had already done a loop of observation and chosen the flattest spot on high ground for the tent.

“You just gonna stand and gawk or help me set up camp, darling.” He called to you already having unrolled the tent tarp. “Unless of course your gawking at me…”

He’s smirking into the sunlight. Sadly the sunglasses are blocking his stunning ice blue eyes, but the vibrant smile and his carefree posture are enough to make you sigh. Your boyfriend had been through a lot. Seeing him so carefree never failed to fill your heart.

Setting up camp didn’t take long. Despite Bucky’s joking requests for help, he had a very dictatorial style of camp set up and took over most of the tasks himself. You didn’t mind unfolding one of the lounge chairs and keeping an eye on the dogs exploring their surroundings (and sneaky glances at your slick with sweat boyfriend).

Dusk had settled over the campsite and somehow it was more beautiful than when it had been bathed in sunlight. Bucky had started a large fire in a homemade fire pit hours ago. The fire had finally produced enough coals for you to set up the large cast iron pan on the fire to begin cooking dinner. The smells wafting from the fire were heavenly and stirred your stomach. Bucky ignited the solar powered lanterns you brought with and the plot was bathed in a warm almost candlelight glow. Ruby and Rufus had wiped themselves out with exploring and chasing fireflies. They were both now curled up next to the fire rousing only in hope of some cooking fallout.

You fished the foil wrapped potatoes out of the blazing hot coals, adding two to Bucky’s plate and one on your own. The meat had a perfect crispy outside thanks to the cast iron’s caramelization. You’d made sure to make enough protein and tossed some sweet potatoes in to give the dogs a special dinner tonight. Last thing to go on your plates were the veggie skewers from the grill grate. It was a damn good meal considering you were rusty on your camp cooking skills.

Fully sated, the two of you lounged in the freestanding hammock you’d managed to convince Bucky to bring. The crackling of the fire created a relaxing soundtrack along with the sounds of the forest and the babbling of the stream. The dogs had curled up together on their outdoor bed.

“Darling?” The word is mumbled into the crown of your head while you lay across Bucky’s chest. “I’m so proud of you.”

You were fully ready to brush off the praise like you usually do but the self deprecating joke died in your throat. You found yourself overwhelmed and a tad emotional. You were done. You’d finished your second degree. You lifted your head to meet your boyfriend's eyes.

“Thank you, Buck. Happy late Anniversary.”

He kisses your forehead before his lips meet yours. The kiss is sweet and delicate and filled with love. The fire pit and the flames within it had burnt down to a slow sultry roll. You pull away and brush back a stray lock of hair that had fallen across Bucky’s forehead; the same one that always went rogue.

“So… how far away is the nearest campsite?”

“A couple miles at least. Why?”

“Far enough if someone were to scream or something, no one would hear?”

“Are you planning on murdering me, love?”

“Not exactly.” You gaze into his eyes and see the amber fire reflected in the blue pools. The deep tan of his summer skin is backlight from the light cast from the pit and lanterns. It’s sinful how good he looks right now. You shift your weight in the hammock so his thigh rests between your legs. He still looks puzzled and moderately worried about you turning into an axe murderer. You roll your hips as much as the hammock net permits and plant a kiss to the exposed skin on his neck.

“Ohhhhhh!” The exclamation turns to a low groan as you suck deeply onto his neck. He tries to pull you into a new position for better access-

“What the hell babe!” You plop not so gracefully onto the cool grass. “If you weren’t in the mood you just had to say so.”

He can tell your anger is lighthearted as you’re unable to contain your giggles. In the needy attempt to touch you, Bucky had disrupted the equilibrium of the hammock and tumbled you to the dirt.

“I told you I hate this damn thing!” Bucky attempts to get out himself but stumbles as if to prove his point further. “Tent!” He points at the blue structure and says the word with conviction. You think it’s a command to get the lazy dogs to move but as you scan his body you can see the very clear bulge in his tight shorts. It was safe to assume the relaxation period had come to an end.