#update: My partner wanted to watch it too. It's actually been the perfect distraction. First time we've laughed all day.

[uwudonoodle]

House Party | Game Grumps

Avoiding election day stress by rewatching the House Party playthrough.

[untaemedqueen]

Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 29.

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage, Love

Warnings For This Chapter: Pre-Wedding Jitters, Dirty Talk, Daddy Kink, Fingering, Praise, Lactation Kink, Milk Drinking, Pregnancy Kink, Wife Kink, Glazed Donut!OC

A/N: Today’s chapter is late because I’ve been busy playing New Pokemon Snap... sry. Shout out to @xjoonchildx, @ladyartemesia and @ppersonna because I’d be lost without them.

There are undoubtedly many events in life that make a person nervous -- your first day of high school and college, your first kiss, your first sexual experience, and for some even your first phone call you give to your doctor when you're no longer under your parents protection. But no one -- not a single person, told you how nervous your wedding day is.

Maybe it's the amount of people that are attending. Two hundred is no small number.

Or maybe it's the fact that with your belly sticking out so far you can barely see your feet makes you feel like you'll be judged.

Whatever it is, the feeling fucking sucks.

You've seen so many movies where the woman who is getting married is all laughs and smiles, giving cheers to anyone and everyone because it's her wedding day. But now, you can officially say it's bullshit.

The best part is, it isn't even today, it's tomorrow and you still are frightened to the bone at the thought.

"-And I mean, yeah. Fine. We chose the taupe napkins but who the fuck is Aubrey to say anything, y'know? Like she knows her colors… Evil witch. I swear I don't know how she passed kindergarten!"

Leena's rant drifts through your ears like a soft breeze. You haven't been paying attention for a while, if you're being honest.

"Y/N? Are you listening to me?!" Leena gawks, grabbing her glass of champagne from Taehyung's hand.

Again, you're caught up in your own mind. You play every scenario of how tomorrow will be and they all seem to be terrible ideas.

What if you trip walking down the aisle?

What if your heel snaps on the way up?

What if your water breaks in front of two hundred people?

What if-

A small square of balsamic bruschetta appears in front of your face and your eyes narrow at the piece of bread.

You feel your soon-to-be husband's fingers pushing back some stray hairs behind your ear. "Food for thought?" he quips happily.

He has not had a frown on his face in what seems like forever. You adore it, you really do. But how can he not be nervous? Your heart is practically thrumming out of your chest.

"Open," he whispers.

Reluctantly, you open your mouth for the appetizer. When he leans in, you look back down at your lap.

"I can see your heart racing through the artery in your neck," he murmurs against your ear.

His hand squeezes your knee under the table reassuringly as he pulls away.

Yoongi wants to pry, he wants to ask you what's got you so in your own head but there are a few too many people here for that.

"Noona, you're an amazing cook." Jeongguk whines, grabbing another piece of steak off the platter.

"You're actually disgusting." Jimin breathes, wrinkling his nose at the youngest's third steak.

"I need my meat, that's how I win in the ring. Gets me all big and strong." Guk beams, cutting into the large t-bone.

"That's what she said!" Hoseok and Taehyung chirp at the same time.

You watch as they high five each other with child-like smiles plastered onto their faces.

"Are you tired? Do you want to call it a night?" your fiance inquires softly, turning his whole body towards you so the rest of the room can't hear him.

You would never want to take away from the festivities. It's just that your stupid anxiety is overwhelming. Looking over at your handsome partner, your fingers intertwine with his. He's quick to kiss the back of your hand, searching your eyes for some sort of hint as to why you're so down.

"No. I'm fine. I'm sorry." you reply, giving him a small smile.

His eyes narrow at your smile and he takes a sharp breath through his teeth in confusion.

"Al...right, if you say so." he says unsurely, running your intertwined hands over your belly.

"Y/N!" Leena whines from across the table and this time you give her your full attention.

You need to try and push this anxiousness elsewhere even for a little while. You will not be a horrible host.

"Yes Beena," you inquire, leaning your chin on your hand.

"Did you hear me? Did you hear what Kim Aubrey said about my wedding planning skills?!" she screeches.

You can only snort as all eyes around the table land on you. "I don't know why you indulge her. Isn't she the one that shit her pants in chemistry when she was fifteen?"

Yoongi laughs loudly, throwing his head back and placing his hand on his chest.

"Actually yeah, she sat two rows behind me!" Namjoon chimes in with wide eyes. His nose wrinkles at the sudden memory and you don't blame him as he pushes his plate away in a sudden state of queasiness.

"So I don't suck at wedding planning?" your best friend pouts across the long table to you.

"Absolutely not." you insist, winking at her.

"This wedding is going to be the biggest event of the entire year. Maybe even the biggest event of the next ten years." Anna, Jimin's wife cheers.

Oh.

Good.

Love that.

"Well, I think we just want people to have a good time. We aren't worried about what impact it will have." Yoongi says quickly, caressing his thumb over the back of your hand to calm you down.

He's not dumb. He's figured it out by now, but he'll still want to hear it from your lips later on.

"Yeah right. 'Min Yoongi and his artistically talented fiance WOW people with their show stopping matrimony' is gonna be on the cover of Dispatch in two days." Hoseok murmurs.

"Oh yeah? And you're gonna be the one giving them the hot scoop, then?" Namjoon jeers, pointing his index finger over the lip of his glass of brandy at the handsome man.

Hobi sneers in his direction and Yoongi can only respond with a chuckle.

"My fiance is pretty show stopping." the CEO surmises, leaning back in his chair.

"Please. I'm eating. Christ." Leena groans through a mouthful of pasta.

It is nice to have so many close friends around tonight though. You hope it can distract you long enough for the nervousness brewing and bubbling inside of you to subside.

When conversations begin to break up and become between smaller groups of people, you can feel his eyes on you like a heat source.

"Little dove?" Yoongi coos softly, rubbing your distended side.

You hum to him, turning to give him your full attention.

"Tomorrow is going to be beautiful and perfect." he promises, tilting your chin up with his index finger.

"No, I know. I'm just-"

"Worried." he finishes for you and he's not surprised to see your reluctant nod of agreement.

"I know. I'm nervous too." he admits, kissing your cheek.

"You've already gotten married before," you scoff, allowing his arm to curl around your shoulders.

"Actually I was black out drunk and can't remember a single thing because I was venomously angry with the dumb bitch that ruined my life before you." he replies with a wide smile.

"Oh. Good." you reply, rolling your eyes at his playfulness.

"So this is my first real wedding too. And even though I'm nervous, I'm excited. Because then when the wedding is over and we get to our honeymoon-"

"Uh uh." you gasp, smushing your finger to his lips.

He pouts against your finger, kissing it softly. "What?" he garbles against your digit.

"We have company." you whisper fiercely.

"Didn't stop you a few days ago when you sucked my cock beneath the desk upstairs while I was on a video meeting." he deadpans, pulling your hand away from his face.

"Yoongi!" you gasp, glancing over the table who hasn't heard a single thing.

You'd like to keep it that way.

"I can't wait to fuck your little pregnant cunt as you're Mrs. Min Yoongi." he beams, kissing your temple.

You can feel your cheeks flushing with embarrassment and you can only blame the man beside you for that one.

When you smack his chest out of shame, the noise echoes throughout the room, earning attention from all of the guests.

"Abuse is not nice, Y/N. Do you want to file a lawsuit, Yoongi?" Yoona quips, sticking her tongue out at you.

The CEO chuckles, squeezing your shoulder with glee. "No, she couldn't handle my lawyers." he bubbles.

"Oh yeah, you know you aren't supposed to sleep with each other tonight, right?" Leena inquires, moving her fork between the both of you.

The cackle Yoongi gives is loud and absurd, much like your best friend's comment. "I can't do anything to her she doesn't have proof of." he banters, pointing at your large belly.

Leena scoffs, pointing down at her plate. "Again. Eating. Gross." she enunciates, pouring herself another glass of expensive champagne.

Jimin's laugh rings throughout the dining room and Yoongi knows that he's the only person who could truly understand him in that moment.

"Why do people do that dumb tradition anyway?" Jeongguk asks, finally finishing his food.

"It actually comes from arranged marriages. When people didn't know who they were marrying." Yoona informs him.

"Fuck that luck shit. That's the saying, isn't it? 'It's bad luck to see the bride' or something like that." Hoseok breathes.

"I think I'm lucky," Yoongi, Namjoon and Jimin reply all at once.

Your best friend takes the opportunity to sneer at her boyfriend and you can't help but giggle at his hopeless expression. "You know I love you, baby." Taehyung coos, sliding his arm over her shoulders.

"Mhm." she drolls, rolling her eyes when both of you look at one another.

"What's for dessert?" Jeongguk asks pleasantly, tying his long black hair up into a ponytail.

"Are you serious? You're not full?" Namjoon gawks at the boxer.

"I was saving room for dessert!" he beams, looking over at you expectantly.

Jeongguk is sweet, sweeter than most younger men you've ever met. He feels something akin to a little brother to you at this point and it's wonderful to see that even if you're rich you can still have manners.

"I made just a simple cobbler, since the wedding cake tomorrow is going to be super heavy and rich." you announce.

Yoongi shoves his chair back, holding out his hand to help you up like the gentleman he is.

He watches you carefully sprinkle powdered sugar atop the dessert with warm eyes.

You don't know how difficult it's going to be walking up that aisle tomorrow, but you do know that your ankles are going to be on fire. They already are.

He picks up the ceramic dish for you, nodding to the chair for you to sit back down and your heart warms for what feels like the billionth time today.

He's such a special person.

"Yoongi is really cool these days, huh?" Jimin jeers, elbowing your fiance when he steps between him and Jeongguk to place the dessert onto the table.

"I've always been cool," he counters, nudging the younger man back

"Well…" Jeongguk and Taehyung droll at the same time.

"Whatever," the CEO breathes, rolling his eyes.

Your giggle seems to light up the room as well as Yoongi's heart. Slamming down in his chair beside you, he can't help the glee that courses through him.

He can't wait for tomorrow.

Climbing into bed, you let the mattress mold to your body and it feels like heaven to be finally laying down, your body certainly thanks you for it.

Yoongi leans against the wall, watching as you sigh happily. "I can just come to bed y'know? I don't need to stay up and hang out." he offers, padding towards you.

"No, that wouldn't be fair. It's your bachelor party. You should be able to play poker and drink." you reply, cupping your stomach.

His eyes drift over you and you can see how soft his expression is in the dim lighting. "You got out of your bachelorette party," he adds, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I have a reason. I'm pregnant." you deadpan, lifting your head to look at him.

"With my baby," he coos, stretching up the bed to lay down beside you.

"Don't get comfy." you warn him, running your fingers over his clothed chest.

"I'm not, I'll just stay until you fall asleep." he promises, kissing your forehead.

His hand drifts over your stomach and the tiny kick he feels makes his heart beat faster. "Hey, kid. How you doin' in there?" he whispers, running his thumb over the spot his son just hit.

You hum gently, letting your eyes flutter closed.

"I'm so tired but I'm so nervous." you announce in the quiet room.

Your fiance looks away from your belly to look over at you. "It's okay to be nervous, but don't let it supersede your happiness for tomorrow either."

You nod gently, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I just have so many scenarios going through my head."

"And none of them are nice, I'm sure." he replies, booping your nose with his index finger.

Scoffing in agreement, you bury your face into his sweet smelling neck.

"I can make you cum, it might make you sleepy," he offers.

"I can't return the favor though, I'm too tired. It'll be unfair," you whine.

When he clicks his teeth, you only hold him tighter to your body.

"I don't need you to 'return the favor' when you love someone as much as I love you, you'd do anything to see them comfortable." he replies, kissing the top of your head.

"They're waiting for you downstairs." you remind him.

"Let them wait. You come first," he breathes, running the tips of his fingers over your soft inner thighs.

You whine in disagreement but your body betrays you naturally. Your legs spread wider and your breath hitches, your lips softly suckle on the thin skin of his neck waiting patiently for what he will do next.

"Your skin is so soft," he whispers, tugging the seat of your panties to the side.

He pulls away from you just far enough to be able to see how well he pleases you and he's already aroused at the sight.

Your eyes are low with lust, bottom lip clamped between your teeth. Your nipples are stiff peaks, straining against the grey silk nightgown you adorn. He can see the grey fabric becoming darker with each passing second as you bead milk.

"God," he groans, parting your lower lips.

"Tomorrow when we fly to Japan, I'm gonna fuck you in every way you could possibly think of." he promises, running his middle finger through your arousal.

"H-How?" you inquire curiously, gasping when he taps the pad of his finger to your clit.

His lips part and his teeth clamp down on one of the cups of your nightgown before pulling down harshly.

You whimper at the chilly air that glides over your now exposed skin.

He lays soft, hot opened mouthed kisses to your nipple, watching your eyebrows furrow in pleasure.

"How am I going to fuck you?" he prods.

You nod fervently, capturing your index finger between your teeth.

"Well," he begins, drawing smooth, slow circles to your swelling clit, "I'll start on the red eye. I'll take you back to the bedroom and take off that pretty wedding dress you'll be wearing just for me."

"Daddy," you whimper, spreading your legs wider for more.

He hums in agreement, pulling off your underwear to free you completely before him.

"I'm gonna make sure the whole crew of my plane knows you're getting fucked by your husband. Gonna have you screaming my name while I fuck your tight little pussy with my thick cock." he avows, kissing over your shoulder.

His words send shivers up your spine and your toes curl with excitement.

"Fuck," you whimper, grinding your hips down onto his hand.

"Gonna hold your big belly in my hands while I fuck you from behind. Let your milk drip all over the sheets of the bed on the plane. You're gonna beg me to go harder, to fill your dirty pregnant cunt full of my cum. I'm gonna make you feel so good, you aren't even going to care that everyone can hear you calling me daddy."

Shoving two fingers inside of you, he skillfully taps the soft patch of nerves within you and your brain is already firing on all cylinders to cum for him. His thumb begins to press harder circles into your clit and when you cup your belly, his eyes roll back at the sight.

"Gonna get you to the secluded hotel and fuck you out on the balcony, in the bath tub, on the bed, anywhere I can get my hands on you. Because I need you wrapped around me. Always." he murmurs into your ear.

"Shit!" you cry out, letting your head loll back to the pillow.

"Good girl, little dove." he praises, unbuttoning his pants for relief.

The head of his cock peeks out from the lip of his briefs and you whimper at the pearl of precum that beads at the tip.

"You're so beautiful," he breathes, kissing from your collarbone to your pert nipple.

When he suckles softly, your hips lift at the erotocism. He moans at the taste of your milk and his hand ghosts over his hard cock.

"Daddy," you cry out, starting to shake from the overwhelming pleasure.

Sitting up on his knees, he shoves his pants down further. He parts your legs wider and he doesn't seem to care that all of his friends are waiting patiently for him downstairs.

His cock ruts between your folds and you're ever so close to cumming with every swipe the head of his cock brushes against your clit.

"So warm," he murmurs, purchasing his bottom lip between his teeth.

Your moans begin to get louder and he knows you're so close to releasing your pleasure.

"That's it baby, you're so close." Yoongi notices, running his hands over your stomach.

"O-Oh my God!" you cry out, grabbing his hands over your belly.

"I know, little dove. Feels good, huh?" he coos.

You're so obscenely wet, that even without him being inside you he's finding himself close to his own end.

It's just you in general, you overstimulate him in ways he can barely understand.

"Daddy, I'm gonna cum." you bleat, gripping his hands harder.

"Cum for me, little dove. I want to see your pretty face when you cum for me." he begs, rutting his hips harder against your core.

You do as told, cumming for him with white spotted eyes and loud sobs of pleasure.

"Good girl," he praises, pulling away from your weeping pussy.

He fists his cock in hand, dragging the swollen, leaking tip over your belly. "Such a pretty woman I have beneath me. Fuck," he curses, jerking his hand faster.

Even as tiredness begins to shroud you, you want him to orgasm too. "Daddy, cum all over my belly. Want to feel your warm cum."

He takes a sharp breath between his teeth, his eyes snapping to yours.

When you palm your breasts, his eyes immediately falter to them. You pinch your nipples purposefully, earning droplets of milk that stream slowly over your digits.

"Oh fuck!" he gasps loudly, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

"Want your cum so badly," you whimper, looking up at him with doe-like eyes.

"Yeah? You want me to cum all over your belly?" he prods, feeling his balls tightening.

You nod fervently, leaving your breasts to rub circles to your distended skin.

"Fuck!" he curses, squeezing his eyes shut as his orgasm courses through him. His cock throbs and stutters in his hand and you hum with satisfaction when you feel his warm cum land on your belly.

"God, you're too sexy for your own good." the father of your child jeers, sitting back on the heels of his feet.

You find yourself giving a tired giggle and your eyelids slowly begin to shield your eyes from view.

"Good girl." he whispers softly, hopping off the bed to clean your stomach.

When he comes back with a wet towel, he can see that you're already fast asleep. He's happy knowing that you'll be able to sleep even if it's only for a few hours.

He can understand your worries and your fears but he wants you to be able to enjoy your wedding too.

Kissing your forehead as he cleans your belly, he sighs softly. "My wife," he breathes, closing his eyes.

"I'll be back later, my love." he promises, tossing the rag back into the bathroom.

Yoongi covers your naked body with the comforter and his heart is thudding in the recesses of his chest with joy.

Just a few more hours and you'll be legally his.

"Remind me why we're playing poker the night before your wedding instead of going out?" Taehyung asks, throwing chips into the center of the green felted table.

"Because there's no pregnant strippers around these parts," Jimin jeers, picking up his beer.

Yoongi sneers at the younger man beside him, elbowing him almost out of embarrassment.

"What? If I could go see a pregnant strip show, believe me, I would."

"We know." everyone replies, rolling their eyes.

"Last time you had a bachelor party, man, that shit was fun." the hotel CEO recalls.

"You had fun." Yoongi reminds him, ashing his cigar.

"Also, aren't you completely smitten with Leena anyway? You want her to have your baby." Namjoon prods, placing his cards down on the table.

Taehyung smirks at his comment, leaning back into his chair and slinging his arm over the lip. "Oh, I'm very happy. She's everything I could possibly want." he affirms, smiling to himself.

"Then why do you want to go to a strip club?" Hoseok adds, throwing chips onto the table.

"Because I like tits. Jesus Christ, just crucify me why don't you!" Tae replies appalled.

Yoongi snorts loudly, clamping his teeth down on his cigar.

He wonders if you're okay, if you've woken up in the past few hours due to his son being so active.

His fingers flex uncomfortably and he's still surprised how much his life has changed in such a small amount of time. He's gone from being a violent, sadistic, narcissistic asshole to being a needy, loving and adoring man. And that's all thanks to you.

You've completely changed the pattern of his DNA and he could never appreciate you as much as you deserve.

"You excited for tomorrow, hyung?" Guk's voice pulls him from his thoughts and he smirks at the younger man.

"Very excited but very nervous." he admits to his group of friends.

"I remember the night of his other wedding. He was so fucking drunk he could barely stand up on his own." Jimin recalls with a laugh.

"I had to hold him up with my shoulder from behind so he didn’t fall backwards." Namjoon adds with a sharp laugh.

Yoongi smirks to himself, looking down at his pocket which holds his wallet. "Well, I'm just glad we don't have to have a repeat of that horrible day again."

"You got lucky dude, not many people find their soulmate when they were an asshole like you were." Hoseok says, pointing at the Kisung CEO.

His sneer is terrifying but probably only to himself as the other men laugh at Hobi's words.

"Y/N completely made him do a 180." Joon concurs.

"I like Y/N noona a lot. She fits in well and she's always optimistic and sweet. We needed someone like her in our lives." Guk beams and your soon-to-be husband seems to glow in their praise.

He loves hearing his friends talk so highly of you. He loves knowing that you're loved for being yourself, especially because you don't know it very often.

He can remember when he first met you, in the back of Seokjin's club. You were sweet and kind but a smart ass and cheeky at the same time. You intrigued him on so many levels and he can remember how badly he wanted to destroy you. But he never would have expected to fall in love with you as earnestly as he has.

And he wouldn't change it for anything in the universe.

"Leena has been putting in so much work for this wedding, you would think it's hers." Taehyung laughs, pulling Yoongi out of his reverie.

"And when are you getting married to her then?" the Kisung CEO inquires, ashing his cigar.

The question seems to stupify the handsome hotel owner, he stutters and shifts awkwardly in his seat trying to reply to the sudden question.

"Jesus, you broke him!" Jimin laughs, clapping his best friend on the back.

Taehyung's cheeks burn bright red and his hand immediately cups the back of his neck out of embarrassment. "I mean I bought a ring. I just haven't thought of anything romantic to y'know… ask her."

Beer goes flying out of Jimin's mouth and the sneer Yoongi gives makes him want to die on the spot.

"Jimin. You're paying for the new felt, you fucking animal." Yoongi gripes, watching Namjoon and Hoseok heartily laugh at the younger man.

"That'll be great! Leena noona is really nice!" Jeongguk cheers, hugging Taehyung happily.

"Thanks…" Tae breathes embarrassed.

Yoongi winks at him and he isn't surprised in the slightest, he knows just how smitten the man is with your best friend.

"Yoongi?"

The voice is gentle and tired.  In an instant he's burning out his cigar and waving the smoke away.

"Yeah, baby?" he calls to you, disregarding the others in the library.

"Just checking to see if you were all still here," you murmur, stepping into the library doorway.

You're beautiful in the dim glow of the library's lights and the smile that spreads over his face is heart shatteringly perfect.

"Still here." he beams, padding over to you.

"Okay." you bleat, rubbing your sleep hooded eyes.

"What're you doing up, my dove? You must be so tired." he inquires, pushing hair back behind your ear.

"I'm thirsty. Wanted water." you chirp, pressing your forehead into his chest.

"Okay. Get your water and I'll be up in a few minutes. Alright?" he promises, tipping your chin up with his index finger.

You hum in agreement, starting to yawn.

He chuckles at your sleepy state, kissing your forehead. He pats your backside for good measure before turning to his friends that are seated around the poker table.

"I think it's time to get some rest before the big day tomorrow."

The guys hum in agreement, tossing down their cards and standing up.

"Tomorrow's gonna be great, man. I'm really happy for you." Joon whispers, patting his shoulder as he heads out first.

Yoongi can only agree with a wide smile.

Tomorrow is the start to the rest of his life. And it's perfect, just like you.

Next Chapter ----->

Third Wheeling Taglist -  @wickizer, @imluckybitches, @slothykrueger, @claireelise19, @ggukkieland, @rspbrryy, @iv-bts, @bambuzlee, @chanelbts, @mxxngxdss, @bluewhale52, @milesjeon11, @diamonddia-mond, @vinylphwoar, @xnxy97, @hubbytaehyung, @140503at-dawn, @bts-7beauts, @jadeblackwoll, @sunshiine-hobii, @creatorspalace, @eclectically-esoteric, @nikkiordonez12, @kaitswrld, @skamlover200, @sevgilove98, @kooeuphoria, @jikooksgirl19, @hobbledehoy26, @singular-itae, @dchimminie, @lowlifeoeuvre, @sugaslittlekookies, @bloopbloopb, @pjmcth, @softysuho, @codeinbelle, @jaiuneamesolitaiire, @betysotelo18, @jeonmisha, @iwanttohitmyself, @ayyyocee, @neverthefirstchoice, @itsbangtanoclock, @little7bitchh, @veryuniquenamegoeshere, @deathkat657, @firstlovesuga-93, @namjoonia, @paperpurple, @muzikabijou, @liebeoppa, @veronawrites, @kleff03, @ruinsofangels, @brightwingr5, @leekanchol, @rkivemagic, @ithinkileftmycoatoutside, @melaninkpops, @y00ngisbabygirl, @ungodlyjoon, @prochnost513, @dunixxd, @athenakyle, @igotnotype, @chxmachxps, @tinymintyoongi, @vangameren-blog, @alpaca1612, @ohcarolinamin, @thegreatestsushi​, @eltrain80, @btsmylife21, @deeepvibes, @httpminyg, @deliciouslydisturbed365​, @rkchmestizangmaldita​, @jimin-chu, @pimpnameyannie​, @preciouschimine​, @daughterofthequeen, @monetsberet​, @vanillamyg, @aamxxrii​, @kooafraid​, @ladykadyrova​, @singjisu​, @yazanii​, @moonlitmyg​, @justzeera​, @absolutefantrash​, @whocaresarchives​, @loosewindmill, @vantesfx​, @bt21chim​, @flowerboyhobi​, @kozuume-kenma, @taepiper​

Sorry for those it didn’t tag!

[morkleemelon]

off the ice || chapter 7: finish strong

previous || m.list || playlist

pairing: college hockey player!mark x college figure skater!reader

genre: fluff, humor, college au, sports au

word count: 5.5k

warnings: swearing

author’s note: it’s finally here, the final chapter :’) I’m both sad and relieved as this is my longest written work ever. huge shout out to my beta readers @skiimmiilk and @writing-frog for sticking with me and making this story SO much better. also, please watch this clip which is the choreography being performed in this chapter. I own none of it or the song it is being performed to! with a full heart, I hope you enjoy chapter 7, finish strong (copyright morkleemelon, all rights reserved)

Soft clusters of snowflakes drift all around, brushed up from their pine-tree-seats, swirling a playful circle around the couple sitting by the lake side before settling in their hair. The early morning cold doesn’t seem to bother them as they sit still, mitten in mitten. It’s picturesque, pristine.

You don’t have to be able to see yourself to know this.

“We should head down to warm up soon,” Mark whispers, cozying into your side.

You hum, leaning your head on his shoulder, feeling the stray snowflakes melt against your cheek. The two of you had come out to your favorite spot to calm your pre-competition nerves, agreeing to stay until the sun reached the tip of the frosted trees. Undoubtedly, from any angle you so choose to look from, that point has been far surpassed and the happy sun beams gold upon the winter landscape.

Bob Ross would have loved this.

“We should,” you agree reluctantly. Giving him a peck on the cheek, Mark shudders at the cold feeling of your lips on his skin. He crinkles his reddened nose, but doesn’t move to stop your second, your third.

Laughter carries across the frozen expanse as the two of you race back to his car.

One hand on the wheel and the other in yours, Mark does his best to strike up different conversations to distract you. You squeeze his hand in appreciation - if anything, he’s the one who should be more nervous for tonight, being a first time performer and a hockey player and all.

You guess it does make sense since he’s used to being in the spotlight all the time, especially from having biweekly games in front of similar crowds. You weren’t exactly a stranger to being in the spotlight either, but the winter festival at Seoul University tends to be a huge commotion, gathering crowds from all around the city. Families, children, recent graduates to senior alumni all come to fill the campus to the brim and there’s no doubt you’ll have quite the audience to impress.

But it’s thanks to Mark that you have fortunately developed a healthy sense of self-confidence, perhaps even enough to convince yourself that there’s a fifty percent chance your performance will go without catastrophe. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll finish the routine without breaking your face in front of 15,000 people.

You managed to sneak a look at the competition sign-ups earlier, and unsurprisingly, are the only participant who will be competing with a non-figure skating partner.

Nonetheless, you study your boyfriend’s face unbeknownst to him. The eyes you grew to love so much, trained on the road in front of him. The slope of his nose and the way it connects to his pouty lips, everything, all the way down to the natural determination rooted in his soul makes you have faith in him despite the disadvantaged odds.

Night after night, practice session after practice session, you worked your butts off to perfect the pair skate choreography the best you could.

After the night that Hillary and her accomplice, Seojung, were caught and sent to jail, the two of you had several deep talks, ultimately vowing to keep no more secrets from each other. Whatever it is, good or bad, you agreed that the other would want to know.

Your relationship flourished as you were no longer held back by your anxieties. Public dates, hockey games, sleeping over at each others’ dorms, you let yourself fall one hundred percent into happiness, unfazed by the rest of the world.

Like a dream, the rest of your life slowly fell into place too.

Yuna is doing a lot better. She’s abandoned the crutches, opting to power walk around in only the boot and cast. Ten follows her around like a puppy, carrying her bag and her crutches in case she ever wants them. You’re so proud of her and you’re really glad she has someone like Ten around to dote on her. Every girl should have a simp.

Lisa and Hope were not happy (to say the least) that they did not get to join the gang at ‘the police station party’. Their words, not yours. Lisa threatened to go to the Seoul Police Department to throw hands with Hillary only to find out the two Lovelee’s presidents have been moved elsewhere, to a more isolated confinement, for ‘bad behavior’.

Not my problem.

The court date approached quickly and the jury ruled the two girls would spend their lives in prison without bail. Additionally, the school dean, more afraid of a lawsuit than anything like student lives, abolished the Lovelees fanclub and updated school policy to criminalize such stalking behavior. The eight of you celebrated the amazing news with lots of champagne (without salt this time) and whilst incredibly tipsy, Jeno told Lisa that he liked her.

You don’t want to get into how loud the screaming was in the suite as Lisa grabbed his face and kissed him. The most efficient thing to do is to reveal what all of you received afterwards: four noise complaints.

Mark pulls into the athletic center lot before you know it. He senses your persisting nervousness and turns towards you, enveloping your other hand in his larger ones.

“You are,” he states, shaking your joined hands up and down with every word, “the most beautiful, wonderful, talented woman I’ve ever met”.

You flush in embarrassment, dropping your gaze, but Mark dips his face down to keep eye-contact. He looks so goofy and you can’t help but laugh.

“I’m serious, babe,” he says through a smile, “nobody else here deserves to win more than you do. You made our choreography all by yourself and even taught me, a guy who can’t make eggs, how to figure skate. We’ll do our very best, y/n, so whatever happens, know that I’m proud of you and I love you very much”.

An ‘aw’ draws from your lips and you lean forward to press them sweetly against his.

People walk past your parked car, but you don’t pay them any notice.

Actually-

“Mark, I think we really have to go warm up”. You motion to the other skaters entering the open stadium doors.

Grabbing all of your gear, the two of you rush inside to start warming up.

“There are eight pairs and we’re going fifth,” you report to Mark, checking the performance schedule expertly.

“Uh, okay. Yes… is that good?”.

“It’s whatever. We just need to show the audience everything we have,” you say while smushing his cheeks in between your palms.

“Okay”. His voice comes out adorably from his face being sandwiched in your hands.

Other skaters look on judgmentally, but you stare calmly back until they look away. The music from the routine of the current skaters on the ice ends.

“Calling pair five, Mark Lee and y/n to the ice for rehearsal. Mark Lee and y/n to the ice for rehearsal,” the overhead announcer repeats.

“That’s us”. You take a deep breath and grab Mark’s hand. He gives you a reassuring squeeze as you skate out from the benches onto the ice.

It’s only a rehearsal, so only a few people, coaches and other skaters, were watching. Even so, you blink nervously as you run through the routine in your head.

“Are you ready?,” Mark questions with a smile, pulling you into the starting position. Your heart races against your chest, but you take a deep breath to calm it down. After everything you’ve been through, this is not the hill you’ll die on.

“I’m ready”. You nod to the staff members and the familiar tune fills the stadium.

It’s a song that Mark picked out himself. It’s ‘his contribution’ to the group project as he joked when you were contemplating your music choice. Playing the simple song on his phone, one earbud for you and the other for him, he explained that it says everything that he feels for you. And it’s absolutely perfect.

“Twenty minutes and you’re up, group five! Please be on stand-by,” a staff member peeps her head into the locker room as you touch up your hair and makeup.

All around you, skaters bustle around, frantically stitching last-minute sequins back on their dresses or brushing on copious amounts of blush, surely to stand out to even those seated in the back row.

Pair four is about to go out on the ice, meaning you’ll be out there before you know it.

Mark is in the men’s locker room, of course. He must feel odd being the only one there right now. You texted him asking if he needed help with his costume, but he insisted he’d handle it just fine. It’s more you worrying than anything.

Taking your hundredth yoga breath of the day, you peer into your reflection in the water-stained mirror. Your long, dark hair is half-up and half-down - loose enough to flow with your skating, but also pinned back so you don’t completely choke on it. Natural makeup adorns your eyes and lips. It’s a much different look than what’d you’d usually go for when skating, but after a lot of careful consideration, it would be much more meaningful both to the performance and to you to go out like this.

Your dress is a stunning royal red. After Uncle Joe told your parents about the competition, they all chipped in to buy it for you to wear tonight. You insisted that it was okay, that it was far too expensive and you could just wear your old one especially since money is so tight, but they wouldn’t let you get another word in.

So now it’s on your body with the price tag cut off. You trace a finger over the intricate sequins of the bodice down to the flowy silk skirt. Trusty white skates already laced up, it’s time to go out and meet Mark.

You start to make your way into the hall.

“Hey y/n, you’re getting a call,” one of the other skaters calls out.

Stopping in your tracks, you hop awkwardly back in your skates, thanking her as you grab your phone from her outstretched hand.

It’s a Facetime call from Yuna.

You pick it up, the screen skipping a few times as the signal struggles to connect.

“y/n!”. Metallic voices on the other side come out distorted and the images are no higher quality than 240p at best, but you recognize instantly that your closest friends are all there sitting in the bleachers.

“y/n, you look so beautiful! Are you next?,” Lisa calls over the other voices.

“No, there’s someone going now, but Mark and I will be right after,” you reply, a smile blooming across your face.

“Markos! Markos! Markos!,” the boys start chanting, evicting laughter from your chest.

“y/n your parents are here too! And Uncle Joe”. The camera pans around, revealing the blurry faces of said loved ones.

“No way! Mom? Dad? Joe?,” you gasp, “how’d you come all the way out here?”.

“Honey!,” your mother greets, beaming at the camera, “of course we came! You worked so hard, your friends have been telling me all about it!”

“And we want to meet this Mark boy too,” your father adds.

You scoff, rolling your eyes playfully.

“You’re a good one, kiddo,” Joe chimes in, “and I have a feeling we’ll be seeing something spectacular tonight. From the skating I’ve seen so far, you won’t have much trouble at all getting that prize-”

“Joe!,” you hush, “I’m still in the locker room! Don’t say that!”.

Looking around nervously, thankfully nobody seems to have heard Uncle Joe’s criticism.

“Listen everyone, thank you so much for coming tonight, it means the world to me. We’ll definitely talk after, but for now, I really gotta go”.

“Okay babe, just wanted to let you know we’re all rooting for you!”. Yuna pulls the camera back to reveal everyone cheering and waving to you. Your heart tingles with butterflies at the gesture. “You’re gonna kill it tonight! Love you!”.

Relaying your affections back, you hang up the call and head out into the hall.

It’s dark. All the lights have been turned off for the sake of the icy stage to stand out more. The curtain less windows provide almost no illumination due to the winter evening nature.

Through the wall, you can hear roaring applause greeting the fourth pair of skaters as they enter the ice. The whole university and more must be here by the sound of it.

“y/n”. Mark’s voice guides your eyes to your right. Squinting through the dark, his familiar form approaches out of the shadows.

“Mark,” you greet back quietly, resting a hand on his arm.

Even in this lighting, your breath draws thin at his appearance. His blonde hair is slicked back instead of tousled in a cute fringe like you’re used to. It’s nothing crazy, but it somehow changes his vibe completely. Your hand feels at his billowy white shirt, tucked neatly into black pants.

“Okay, keep looking at me like this and we’re not making it out there,” Mark mumbles under his breath, smirking slightly as a few stagehands pass by.

You remove your hand only to smack him in the same spot.

“Shut up”

“You love me”

“Yeah, and?”

His familiar giggles tickle your ears.

“Are you Mark and y/n? Pair five?,” a staff member interrupts.

“Oh, yes, that’s us”

“Please head down this way to be on standby. When it’s your time to enter, there will be someone at the gate to usher you in”

“Okay, thank you”. Slipping your hand into Mark’s, the two of you hobble in the direction of the rink entrance. It’s nerve-wracking, but the feeling is so easy to ignore when you’re together with him.

The music of the current performance becomes suddenly louder as you open the door to enter the main part of the stadium. From where you stand (in a random corner by the bleachers), thousands of audience members fill the stands.

The pair on the ice dance together playfully to their energetic piece. Your two teammates, you recognize.

“They’re really good,” you breathe, watching them spin oh-so-synchronously together without missing a beat.

“That doesn’t mean we can’t be good too,” Mark states matter-of-factly. You look up at him to meet his gaze, giving his hand a small squeeze in agreement. “And now is as good a time as ever to tell you that I was- and I’m not shitting you- I was standing right here when I saw you for the first time”.

“What?”. You look around at the dark underside of the rink bleachers. The best two adjectives to use for a place like this are ‘dank’ and ‘gross’.

“Yes, I know. Fall of last year, you were practicing at night and I came to do drills. I saw you here and… that was it for me. I dropped my bag and you turned towards me so I completely panicked. I ran away and couldn’t grow the balls to ask you out for a whole year. That’s the truth”.

Mark’s expression is oh so cutely shy and it makes you curl your toes in your skates.

“You complete loser,” you gush over the music, “You should have stayed, asked me out right then and there. Then we would’ve had an extra year together”.

“You’re right,” Mark groans into his hands jokingly. He spreads his fingers to peer through their gap. “But what’s one year of forever, right?”.

“What’s one year of forever,” you echo.

Applause erupts from above you as the skaters finish their routine. The announcer goes over the rules for voting once more, sending them off as they exit the ice.

“Group five, you’re on next. When they announce your names, you’re gonna go through this gate here and when you’re ready, they’re gonna start the music. Any concerns?,” the staff member directs.

“No, thank you,” the two of you shake your heads.

“Okay, this is it,” you state. It’s unclear if it’s directed to yourself or for Mark. In all honesty, it’s to the world.

“This is just one thing, y/n. It’s just one of the many things we’re gonna do together. Let’s just do it how we always do”

He’s always right.

“And now, please welcome our next skaters, sophomore, y/n and her partner, junior, Mark Lee!’.

In the matter of seconds, you’re out of the dark and hit with blinding spotlights from every direction.

Your own thoughts drown out as unseen crowds past the light roar animatedly at your arrival. Raising your arms in the air, hand still laced with Mark’s, the two of you circle around the ice to greet the audience.

“Holy shit, I didn’t get a good look earlier, but y/n, this dress…” Mark remarks, eyes glued on your figure.

“I look beautiful,” you confirm confidently as you stop naturally in the center of the ice. “Are you ready?”.

It’s always like this, rapid fire. As nervous as you are, it's time to go.

Inhaling and exhaling deeply, the junior hockey captain moves into the starting position.

“I’m always ready for you”

And just like that, the soft strumming of guitar chords overcome the audience ruckus and all you can see is the man in front of you.

I found a love for me

Oh darling, just dive right in and follow my lead

Well, I found a girl, beautiful and sweet

Oh, I never knew you were the someone waiting for me

Your bodies move on autopilot, muscle memory from countless nights of practice amounting to the flawless execution of your first lift. His hands are strong against your body and you put your full trust in him to catch you every time. The crowd could be screaming right now and you wouldn’t hear it, only focusing on how much the lyrics of this song mean to you.

‘Cause we were just kids when we fell in love

Not knowing what it was

I will not give you up this time

But darling, just kiss me slow, your heart is all I own

And in your eyes, you're holding mine

You dance in unison, your bodies so familiar with each other. Jumping easily into his arms, you know he can see the love in your eyes as he holds on to balance you by your waist. Hair billowing in the breeze created by your movement, Mark improvises to tuck it back behind your ear.

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark with you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song

When you said you looked a mess, I whispered underneath my breath

But you heard it, darling, you look perfect tonight

Well I found a woman, stronger than anyone I know

She shares my dreams, I hope that someday I'll share her home

I found a love, to carry more than just my secrets

To carry love, to carry children of our own

This is the man you want to spend the rest of your life with.

We are still kids, but we're so in love

Fighting against all odds

I know we'll be alright this time

Darling, just hold my hand

Be my girl, I'll be your man

I see my future in your eyes

And somehow, by the luckiest of stars, he wants to spend the rest of his with you too.

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark, with you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song

When I saw you in that dress, looking so beautiful

I don't deserve this, darling, you look perfect tonight

The song winds down and you express every ounce of romance you have for everyone to see. The two of you aren’t aware, but everyone in the stadium is silent with awe.

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark, with you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song

I have faith in what I see

Now I know I have met an angel in person

And she looks perfect

I don't deserve this

You look perfect tonight

Completely in a trance, the world fades back into your awareness as you kneel down across from each other, out of breath. Mark’s eyes sparkle like stars under the lights and he brings you in for a kiss. You’re exhausted, but you stand and melt into his hug, hardly noticing the standing ovations from all around.

Roses, plushies, and paper planes come raining down. You pull away beaming, heart bursting with joy. Hand-in-hand, you take a bow, waving to the crowd as you catch your breath.

“y/n, you were so amazing,” Mark exemplifies as the two of you exit the ice. Everything passed by so fast. Months of hard work and roller coaster emotions accumulated to the last five minutes, over before you knew it.

“Me? Look at you, mister hockey. I’m so amazed at you,” you commend.

As you enter the hall again, you are met with congratulations and praise from teammates and Mark’s many admirers. Although the Lovelee’s may have been banished already, the crowd of cooing girls never went away.

“You were so good, Mark”

“Yeah, totally, Mark. That was so hot”

Your day was far too great for you to be annoyed at their blunt flirtatious attempts (despite your obvious presence by his side). Before Mark could muster out a flustered ‘thank you’, you decide to rip off the band aid.

“He says thank you!”

With no intention of hearing their replies, you lead him further down to where your friends told you they’d be to meet you.

“y/n”. Coach Tanya makes herself known.

“Coach!”. You bow to her.

Much to your surprise, when you come up, the older woman pulls you into a firm hug. Your shock is apparent at the warm gesture and you hesitate before hugging her back. Never has she ever expressed anything more than terse compliments to you before. This is like drinking ice water on a hot day.

“That was absolutely excellent, y/n,” Tanya pulls away to shake hands with your boyfriend, “and you, Mark is it? You were wonderful for a beginner”.

“Thank you ma’am”. He nods politely.

“But y/n,” your coach turns back to you, “I am stunned at your artistry. The emotion, the technique, you’re one of my best. How would you like to go to nationals in the spring?”.

Your hand shoots up to cover your gaping mouth. Tears spring to your eyes and you nod vigorously to confirm your obvious answer to Tanya’s question.

“No way!” Yuna’s voice sounds from behind your coach’s figure. The blonde emerges shortly after, followed quickly by the rest of the gang. The boys waste no time in tackling Mark with congratulations and sharp jabs at his ‘dumbass’ hairstyle.

“You’re here!”. You wrap your best friend in an excited hug. “Coach is sending me to nationals!”. Lisa and Hope join in squealing as the four of you hop up and down at the news.

Tanya chuckles at the scene, “Yes, indeed. And it looks like you’re getting a lot better, Yuna. That’s a relief”.

“I don’t care what the doctor says, I’m gonna make sure I’m on the ice again one day,” Yuna attests.

Coach Tanya leaves you to celebrate as your parents and Uncle Joe come bearing flowers. Many pictures and one uncomfortable interrogation from your parents for Mark later, you get changed and go out to enjoy the rest of the winter festival with your friends.

The results of the competition are to be announced at the end of the night and you elect to not worry about the outcome. What you’ve earned from this journey is more than money could buy. Anything that happens after… happens. You’ll always find a way to make it through and have a great time doing it too.

All bundled up, you hop around the food trucks lining the city streets. Every restaurant in Seoul seemingly sent all their best foods for the festival: spicy rice cakes and burgers to lava cakes and hot cocoa. Live music creates a perfect ambiance to take away all the tension from the day.

The night sky is pitch black, but the whole city campus bustles with life. You swear you’ve seen this exact scenery in a Hallmark Christmas movie - all the cars and buildings wear their fluffy white snow caps, the sparkle of fairy lights in trees reflecting off their glass windows. Nobody cut the cameras because it’s pure magic.

“Guys they’re having fireworks on the roof of the science building. We can watch them announce the competition winners from there too, let’s go!,” Haechan pleads with a mouth full of steaming fish cakes.

“What do you say, you want to?,” Mark asks you, brushing a bit of sauce off the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

“Sounds great,” you smile. Fireworks are always a win.

You weave your way through the crowded street together, heading up the hidden stairwell only students would know to reach the designated rooftop. The whole time you can’t help but let your eyes linger on Jeno and Lisa’s interlocked fingers. The sight sure brings a smirk to your face, but man are you not used to it.

Mark notices your fixed gaze, following it to the odd couple’s joined hands. Snickering, he nudges you to stop staring.

“Sorry, it’s just so… unexpected,” you whisper to him as you head towards the rooftop railing to overlook the campus.

“I know, I didn’t see it coming either,” Mark agrees, tossing an arm over your shoulders as you moon over the breathtaking city line. Your breath makes clouds in the cold, winter air, but you feel warm as ever inside.

Out in the horizon, each blinking, twinkling light is a person living their life. Thousands of stories all at once, blissfully unique and their own. They’re different colors and intensities, some are from windows and some from cars. Overhead, an airplane soars on by. In reality, they’re moving at an incredible speed. But from where you admire, the little red wing lights inch on by, slow to leave your sight.

The world is full, so full. What looks like a tiny red light is a plane full of people and what must look like a speck of gold to them is the whole city of Seoul gathered together. Everything is different when you understand perspective, you realize, and it becomes so much more meaningful.

“Hey, I think that’s the dean! He’s gonna announce the winners of the skating competition!,” Hope taps you excitedly from your other side.

“Oh my god it’s happening”. You grab her hand and shake it around.

Mark’s grip tightens around you as the Seoul University dean steps in front of a podium set up in the school yard. A crowd gathers around, excited whispers travelling all the way up to your rooftop perch. The microphone screeches with feedback causing everyone to groan and cover their ears.

“Sounds like Haechan’s singing voice,” Mark whispers under his breath.

“I heard that!,” the younger boy retorts indignantly. You bite back your laughter as the dean begins to speak.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming out this cold night to celebrate what Seoul University is about: unity and…,”

“Blah blah blah - tell us who won!,” Yuna whisper-yells, exasperated.

“You’re so hot when you’re bratty,” Ten coos.

“I know”.

This couple I swear. I’m trying to be nervous, but I can’t even do that when I’m laughing.

“... first annual skating competition here at Seoul University. Our students not only excel in academics, but hold a variety of astounding talents as you folks may have seen tonight at the University rink. Each student did a phenomenal job preparing for this competition, so let’s give a round of applause for all the skaters who performed tonight and the staff who made it happen!”

You clap your hands together nervously, bouncing slightly at the knee to fight the cold.

“One pair, by your vote, will be winning a grand prize of ten thousand dollars for their exceptional performance. After I announce the winners, we will wrap up the night with our famous annual firework show!”.

The crowd whoops and cheers excitedly.

“Without further ado, by popular vote, the winners of the first annual Seoul University skating competition are…,” the dean slits open a closed envelope, unfurling the contained page with excruciating tardiness. Pausing for dramatic effect, the excitement builds in the air, “y/n and Mark Lee!”.

Your names ring triumphantly through the whole city as you’re immediately crushed by seven hugs. The festival-goers roar in congratulations and you can’t hold back the tears of joy that spring into your eyes. Jumping up and down, your friends surround you in a cocoon of screaming and yelling.

Mark snatches you up, pulling you into his arms and twirling you around. Pressing a frenzy of kisses all over your face, you squeal in disbelief as he sets you down.

“You did it!,” he yells, sandwiching your cheeks between his hands.

“No, WE did it!,” you yell back, jumping up and hugging him close. Your friends waste no time to shuffle into a group hug, enveloping you like a love-flavored bao.

“y/n! No fucking way! Actually, we all saw it coming,” Yuna smacks your butt as an I-told-you-so gesture. You don’t even mind right now.

“I can’t believe it,” you cry into Mark’s fuzzy, black coat, “I can’t believe it. I- this means I can come back to school next semester”.

“Hell fucking yeah you can,” Haechan whoops.

The freezing air is knocked out of your body as a firework cracks across the sky, the booming sound resonating deep in your bones. Everyone’s attention is turned towards the brilliant shower of purples and pinks as they light up the darkened sky.

Mark sets you down, swiping his sleeves carefully over your cheeks to catch your fallen tears.

“My baby, always crying,” he jokes softly. You breathe out a short laugh as you sniff down your running nose. “But they’re happy tears, right?”.

“The happiest,” you nod, resting your ear to his chest as the two of you marvel at the shimmering sky. An especially big firework sets off, smaller ones following all around, drawing awed gasps from all who see.

“I love you,” you mumble.

“I love you too,” Mark hushes into your hair.

“I love this. I love today. I love this school. I love Yuna. I love Hope. I love Lisa. I love Jeno and Haechan. I love my parents and Uncle Joe. I love Coach Tanya and I love skating”.

You pause your rapid-fire declaration as you turn to face him. In his eyes, you can see the whole firework show.

“I love these fireworks and I love everyone who came to see us skate. I loved meeting you all those months ago by the basketball courts and I loved getting hit on at Yangyang’s party so we had our almost-first kiss by the lake”. You choke back a happy sob as you continue.

Mark has his eyes closed with a wide smile spread across his lips as he recollects the memories.

“I love going to church with you and I love when you pick me up from work. I love how you always zip up my jacket without asking and how you never wake me up early in the mornings because you know how much I hate it. You’re always there for me, Mark Lee”.

Fresh tears dribble down your chin and although he remains in pensive silence, shining streaks adorn his face too. You don’t notice it, but your friends have stepped back to let you have a private moment.

“Oh, y/n”. Mark’s voice comes out thick, swallowing back tears. His hand caresses at your face and it’s ever so warm. Moments pass before he’s able to continue. “Always”.

And you don’t need a fairy tale narrator to tell you that his promise is true for you to believe it with your whole heart. You’re here with him, fireworks all around, and it’s as true as the plane in the sky and the lights in the horizon.

You’re surrounded by friends, new and old, and most importantly, friends who are here to stick around.

You were wrong in the beginning: this wasn’t a story about how two souls come together.

It wasn’t only two, you see. It was you and Mark and all your friends and the professors you say ‘thank you’ to after class and the man who sells you green tea in the morning. It’s your parents and Uncle Joe and the stranger girl who fell in love with your skating tonight, sure to beg her parents for a pair of skates. The first of many.

It’s all of them and so much more.

And god, you’re so in love with who they’ve shaped you to be.

[ladyreapermc]

Fic: Rules of Engagement Chapter 2

Summary: Henry and Em have been friends for almost ten years and involved in a casual affair for just as long. The rules were simple: no romantic attachment and their friends and family couldn’t know. Easy enough to do right? However, when new complications emerge, Henry and Em will need to navigate this relationship of theirs, if they can even call it that.  Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 04  | Chapter 5  | Chapter 06

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC (Emeline)

Wordcount: 4,5K

Warnings: some fluff and a tiny bit of angst

Author’s notes: I want to thank all the comments I got on the first chapter. I didn’t expect this series to get so much recognition. Thank you! Here’s chapter 02. I do hope you all enjoy it and once again I would love to read your feedback.

Chapter 02 - What are the odds?

As soon as Henry stepped out the car in front of the church, he couldn’t help but let his gaze wander, looking for Em. It was almost second nature to him by now, whenever he would meet their friends, his eyes instinctively looked for her.

This time they landed on Todd first, standing outside and holding his baby girl Sophie in his arms. Henry could already feel the smile tugging on his lips as he made his way over, adjusting his button-down and blazer in the process. Last time he had seen the girl, she had just been born, only a week before he had to travel and start shooting The Witcher, but Todd and Clara made sure to keep him updated with pictures of his future goddaughter.

“My God, mate! you’re huge!” Todd commented voice full of awe and Henry chuckled, too distracted by the baby in his friend’s arms.

There was a huge pink bow on top of her brown curly hair and her eyes were bright blue and staring at Henry as he made a couple of silly faces until he got a bubbly giggle.

“What are they doing to you?”

“You don’t want to know. Sorry, I’m late. My flight was delayed.”

“You’re not all that late. Em had wardrobe trouble and Clara is giving her a hand,” Todd said, chuckling as Henry offered his hands up to the toddler, and to his surprise, Sophie actually reached for him, asking to be taken and Henry smirked. “She’s 6 months and already under your charms,” Todd clicked his tongue, handing over the girl.

It was no secret that Henry loved children and children loved Henry. Not only that, but he was also actually good with them. Maybe it was all the nephews and nieces, maybe it was just his natural gift, but kids tended to be in his best behavior with him.

Someone’s got a booboo? Call uncle Henry to kiss it better. Crying fit over a stolen toy or a no? Uncle Henry will hold them until they feel better. Don’t want to sleep? Uncle Henry will tell stories and even do all the voices. Sugar high and need to tire them out? Uncle Henry is on the job with a good dose of Kal…

Henry truly didn’t mind being only a call away for his family and friends. Being the last-minute babysitter whenever he was in town and having a chance of spoiling them rotten. He loved being Uncle Henry but he just couldn’t wait for the day he would be the dad.

First, he needed to find a good partner but so far, his relationships had crashed and burned, some more epically than others. And Henry wasn’t getting any younger. He would hate to be one of those fathers that had their first kid in their fifties, but he was slowly approaching his forties and had yet to meet the woman he wanted to have that kind of commitment with.

Shaking himself out of those thoughts that would lead nowhere, Henry followed Todd to a sideway entrance of the church so they could go in without making much of a fuss. It seemed almost fate that just as they stepped inside, a small hidden door opened and both Clara and Em stepped out.

For a second, Henry just stared, because Em looked so beautiful in that form-fitting soft pink dress, her dark hair falling in elegant waves over her shoulders. He didn’t even notice the sigh he let out or the small snort that came from Todd.

Henry wasn’t in the habit of lying to himself, but he made an exception when it came to this because Em might be the only woman he ever really felt like he could have a long-term relationship with. They just clicked in every aspect.

She was funny and goofy, unafraid of giving him hell whenever he was getting a big head. She could be almost brutally honest at times, but Henry had become quite good at calling her out on it with just one look. Em never failed to make him laugh, and he knew that, aside from Clara, he was the only that got her to completely loosen up. And, of course, he couldn’t forget, that the sex was amazing.

Henry was still dreaming about their last encounter last month, the feel of her without any barriers, and how much trust she laid on him to even suggest such a thing. He loved her even more for it and if only she would stop being so stubborn and accept that she loved him too and that they were perfect together, Henry wouldn’t have this problem. Because he knew Em wanted kids too.

They had this conversation one drunken night about a year ago. She had just broken up with her latest boyfriend, for reasons he couldn’t remember, and came over with a bottle of bourbon ready to drown her sorrows.

It was a cool spring night and they lied in his garden watching the night sky and passing the bottle back and forth, complaining about life and love and everything in between. Kal lodged between them, snoring loudly and making them both fall in a fit of giggles every once in a while.

“Ok, confession time…” Em said, turning sideways to look at him. The way she squinted her eyes to see him made Henry laugh. “I miss the kingstache.” She traced the smooth skin of his upper lip and Henry grinned wide.

“You?” he asked in disbelief. “The one that mocked me the most? That called it a porn mustache?”

“Yes, alright?” she pouted at him knocking against Kal, alcohol impairing her coordination. The dog looked up startled and confused before slipping away from between them. “I miss it. It felt good, especially…”

“Especially what?” Henry asked, turning sideways too and now they were so close he could smell the whiskey in her breath; their noses almost bumping against one another.

“The feel of it whenever you were eating me out,” Em confessed, lip tucked between her teeth as they stared at each other. “And only you could rock a mustache like that, ok?”

“I love how honest you get when we put some alcohol in you,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to her lips.

It was supposed to be just a soft peck but Em fisted his hoodie, holding him still while she explored his mouth in a sloppy kiss and Henry felt his body responding to it. The heat spreading, the stirring in his trousers but he pulled away and gave her a stern look.

“We shouldn’t. we’re drunk and nursing breakups…” he warned but she cut him off with another kiss. This one lasted longer, especially as she pressed her entire body against his, one hand coming to scratch his scalp just like Henry loved it and he moaned into the kiss.

“That’s why it’s perfect,” she mumbled. “We can fuck it out of our systems and move on… I don’t want the next guy to be a rebound.”

“Oh, but I can be? That’s lovely.” He arched an eyebrow, hurt and offended. She sat up and rolled her eyes.

“Like I wasn’t a rebound after most of your girlfriends, Hen? You know what? Forget it. I’m leaving.” Em got up in unsteady feet and Henry was by her side in a flash, helping to keep her upright. She could never hold her liquor all that well.

“You’re too drunk. Just stay here. I can get the guest room ready if you’re that pissed at me.”

“I’m not…” she sighed, resting again his chest, but looking away from him. “I really thought Alex was…”

“Really? I always knew he was a wanker.”

Henry felt the warm huff of her laugh against the exposed skin of his throat before she finally looked up at him, chin resting on his sternum, her big and warm brown eyes glassy, lids lowered, her cheeks flushed from alcohol. It was a beautiful sight and he loved how much shorter Em was; how she fitted in his embrace like she belonged there. Henry pushed the thought aside as he guided her inside and up the stairs.

“He was jealous of you, you know?” she flopped on the bed and let Henry take off her jeans, sweater, and bra. “I think he guessed that we have sex on occasion.”

Henry only hummed in reply, picking up one of his old shirts and helping her to put it on. It fit her almost like a dress, hanging almost at her knees, the neckline loose and slipping over her shoulder. He shouldn’t think it was this cute, but he couldn’t help himself. He bent closer, kissing her softly and Em sighed against his lips.

“I’m gonna grab some aspirin for you, please don’t hurl on my floor.”

She gave him a clumsy punch on the shoulder that Henry barely felt, and he chuckled all the way to the kitchen. He wished he could tell Em that he was glad Alex wasn’t the one and that he would like her to see Henry might be. They’ve been doing this for 8 years now and it was probably the longest relationship he had with anyone. If you could call periodically hooking up with a good friend a relationship.

He got back to the room and Em was already asleep, head buried on his pillow and Henry felt bad for waking her up but if she didn’t take anything right now, it would be worst in the morning. For both of them. He shook her lightly and she blinked blearily at him, but still accepting the pill he put in her hand and the sip of water he offered.

“Thanks, Hen. I love you,” she slurred, and Henry chuckled, setting the glass aside while he took off his clothes.

Em would always blurt that out when she was this drunk and it always warmed his heart, giving him hope until the bright light of the day came and he realized that no matter how many times she would say it, Em would still fight this pull between them.

“You’re welcome, love.”

He crawled in bed with her and Em immediately settled against him, tugging on his arm until Henry was spooning her, holding her tight. She was such a cuddler and he loved it. He loved to fall asleep with his nose buried in her head, inhaling the scent of sugar and spice that clung to her. He loved the feel of her warm skin and the soft snores that she never admitted she let out or the way she clung to his hand until she fell asleep.

It was sweet torture to have her like this, knowing that when morning came, Em would be out the door, both of them going their separate ways. But at least for those blissful hours, in the darkness of the night, Henry could pretend otherwise.  

For a while, there was only silence and Henry thought she had fallen asleep again. He was almost drifting off himself when she spoke again.

“You will be the perfect partner for some lucky lady out there,” she whispered, her voice surprisingly coherent considering how drunk she was. “And a great dad.”

“Thanks, Em,” Henry smiled and kissed her temple.

“I’m terrified of having kids,” Em confessed quietly, turning in his arms so they could look at each other in the darkness. “I mean, I didn’t have the greatest role model for a family.”

Henry pushed some hairs away from her face, looking at the big doe eyes staring at him with a glimmer of wetness. He knew her mom left when she was very young and her dad was… well, interesting.

“Do you want to?” he asked, thumb caressing her jaw. “Have kids, I mean?” she nodded, a flitting smile sneaking into her face.

“Yeah, two,” she said softly. “Because I hated being an only child. Good thing I had Clara. How about you?”

“I always thought at least three,” he replied, smiling too. “I want my house full, just like I had growing up.”

“At least?” she cocked an eyebrow at him, and Henry chuckled and shrugged. “I guess that sounds good too, maybe a little chaotic… I mean, how would that work with you and your wife working full time?”

“I would take some time off, of course…” Henry said, lying on his back, one arm around her, the other bent beneath his head. “I’m doing pretty well financially, and I could afford to spend some time off-screen or maybe take smaller roles, local productions…”

“You really thought this out, huh?” Em asked head tilted his way and Henry nodded. He lost count how many times he envisioned this scenario, the only thing that usually changed was the face he pictured for the woman in his life. “You would turn the guest room into a nursery?”

“At first, yeah, but I definitely would want a bigger place,” he said, drawing patterns on her arm. “A little farther away from the city, with a nice kitchen and a big master bedroom. A garden so Kal can run around and the kids could have a playground, maybe even a treehouse…”

“That sounds nice, I’d like that,” she mumbled, her eyes fluttering close, her breath evening out. With one last smile, Henry kissed her brow and let himself drift off too.

That conversation had stayed with him for way longer than it should. Em didn’t remember any of it of course, but Henry did because it seeded something in his heart that he had to work hard to ignore whenever they were together.

Henry guessed it could be seen as a small blessing that their hookups weren’t happened all that often anymore, even if they were both single. He also couldn’t help but notice that when they did end up together, Em seemed to fight the pull that existed between them until she finally relented and fell in bed with him. It made him wonder what changed. Why she felt like they couldn’t have this anymore.

“Henry! You’re here!” Clara greeted him with a kiss on the cheek before she looked down at her daughter comfortably settled on his arms. “And you already charmed Sophie, I see.” She looked at Todd with a grin. “You owe me a tenner.”

Todd rolled his eyes, taking the girl from Henry so they could walk into the church with their daughter, while Henry and Em took their places at the altar, side by side and he gave her a sideways glance to have a better look at her.

“You look nice.”

“You too,” she smiled at him. Her soft, glossy lips looked so tempting that Henry had to discreetly shift his stance to adjust himself.

“What was wrong with your dress?” His gaze lingered on the generous neckline that gave a very nice view of her cleavage. “Looks really good. Especially your tits. They look bigger somehow.”

“Henry!” Em hissed sharply with a glare, but he could see she was fighting off a smile. “But you might actually be right because I busted a seam under my arm and Clara had to sew it back together.”

Before Henry could comment on anything else, the ceremony started and they returned to their best behavior. Todd and Clara brought Sophie forward, handing the girl to Henry and Em so she could be baptized and they were named her godparents.

It was hardly a surprise for them that the couple had invited them, especially because Henry had Todd as a fifth brother and he knew Em viewed Clara as a sister, but they were both honored by the invitation.

Once the ceremony was over, everyone started to head to Todd and Clara’s place for the celebration. Henry was about to ask Em for a ride since he had taken a taxi but froze when he saw her heading to a car with a guy he didn’t know.

“Hey Todd,” he caught his friend who was on his way to say goodbye to a few guests that wouldn’t be able to make to the party. “Who’s that?”

“That’s Jack,” Todd said, following Henry’s gaze, catching sight of Em chatting with the blonde man. “He’s a friend of Clara’s. He and Em met a couple of months ago.”

“They’re dating?” Henry asked with a frown and uncomfortable burn in his stomach, like acid reflux. He had to swallow hard against the urge to puke.

“I don’t know,” Todd shrugged. “But they seemed to have hit off pretty well.”

As if on cue, Em’s laugh rang loud and bright as Jack held the door open so she could slide inside, and Henry had to clench his jaw to stop himself from cursing. From the look on Todd’s face, his friend noticed.

“Need a ride?” he asked, pulling Henry’s attention back him. “My brother is heading off right now.”

“Yes, thanks.”

Henry tried to push the thoughts of Em and the Jack bloke aside, pay at least a little bit of attention to whatever Todd’s brother was droning on and on, but it seemed to be an impossible task. Fortunately, the younger man didn’t seem to need his interaction to make conversation, so Henry just hummed occasionally, looking out the window. He wondered why Em didn’t mention Jack at all last time they saw each other.

Sure, it was a quick visit, but they did talk a lot before they ended up in bed together. It would have been nice to know in advance that she was dating. Was she dating? Em didn’t strike him as the kind of woman that would hook up with someone else if she was seeing another but maybe that was why she was so reluctant to sleep with him last few times?

Before Henry could reach any conclusion, they arrived and he thanked Todd’s brother for the ride before letting his gaze wander through the small gathering of people, locating Em. She was unsurprisingly surveying the cake and pastries since her bakery provided every single treat offered at this party.

Henry didn’t taste anything yet, but he knew they were delicious. Em had a unique talent for baking and it was no wonder her store was becoming more and more popular. He knew part of it was her perfectionism. Even though her team worked with her for years now and knew exactly how she would plan tables and displays, she still needed to survey everything, making sure it was up to her standards.

He took a step in her direction, but before he could go any further, Clara called his name and caught his arm in a soft but firm grip, giving the guest she was talking to a small smile of apology before tugging him to the side.

“Just the man I wanted to see,” she smiled and for a relatively small woman, she could be very intimidating. It was something to do with her piercing blue eyes that always seemed to see right through him. “Have you met Jack?”

“Not really,” he replied in surprise and confusion. Sometimes it felt like Clara could read his mind or something.

“Let me introduce you to him, then,” Clara said, pulling him along and Henry didn’t have in him to protest. He was after all curious about the man. “And please, be nice and make an effort to like him.”

“What does it matter if I like him or not?”

Clara turned to face Henry, her eyes narrowed as she stared him down, and weirdly enough, Henry felt like shrinking into himself at the weight of her stare. No wonder she was such an amazing prosecutor. That one stare was enough to make him want to confess all his crimes.

“So, you don’t know?”

“Know what?” Henry asked. This was one of the most cryptic conversations he had ever had, and he had to do interviews about DCEU without giving any spoilers. Clara heaved a sigh, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You’re Em’s judge.”

“Sorry, I’m what?”

“Em’s judge. For a man’s character. If you don’t like a man she’s seeing or interested in, she’ll dump their arse like a hot potato. You never noticed?”

“No! Clara, that’s… insane! I have no saying in who Em dates.” Henry huffed an awkward breath as he watched his friend. She could not be serious, but from the way she was looking at him, he knew she met every word.

“We both know you don’t have to say anything.” Clara rolled her eyes at him. “Honestly, I’m surprised that Alex lasted as long as he did considering your face turned sour everything time he was around. It was like you had shit stuck under your nose. But regardless if you believe it or not, could you make an effort with Jack? I really think he could be great for Em.”

“Fine!” Henry sighed just wanting to get out of this conversation. “But not right now. I haven’t eaten in six hours and I’m starting to get dizzy.”

“Thank you!” She flashed him a bright smile. “Head to the kitchen and grab something. Brunch will still be a while.” She came to her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek before walking away before Henry could even process what was happening.

Henry stood there for a few moments like gaping fish, still trying to wrap his head around the entire conversation but giving up because when it came to Clara, she was lightyears ahead of them on some things. He might as well do what he was told and get a snack before he passed out.

To Henry’s surprise, when he got to the kitchen, he found Em at the sink, finishing up a sandwich that she handed him as soon as he stepped closer.

“What’s this?”

“Toasted wheat bread, no crust, turkey slices, and that tasteless cheese you actually like. Honey mustard, but no mayo,” she said, leaning against the counter and giving him a smile when Henry’s stomach rumbled. “I figured you didn’t have time to grab a bite to eat at the airport...”

“I didn’t. Thanks,” he grinned at her, taking a bite and groaning loudly, making Em chuckle.

“Settle down, Cavill. It’s not that good,” she joked, popping a piece of turkey on her mouth, but grimacing. “Urgh, this taste like cardboard.”

“You’re ok?” he frowned at Em.

“Yeah, just feeling a little queasy all morning,” she replied. “But I have to eat something or my blood sugar gonna plummet.”

Abandoning his sandwich for a second, Henry moved closer to her, resting the back of his hand against her forehead and then neck, frowning lightly.

“You are a little hot.”

“Thanks,” she flashed him a cheeky smile that made Henry chuckle.

“You know what I mean.” He cupped her cheek and it was a testament of how bad she much be feeling if Em was actually letting her guard down and allowing this small intimate moment in a place anyone could walk in on them. “You might be coming down with something.”

“Fuck! I hope not. This is one of my busiest months,” she let out a long exhale, and maybe it was just Henry’s wishful thinking, but he thought Em might have stepped closer, almost leaning into him and all he wanted was to take her in his arms and hold her.

“Am I interrupting?” Clara cleared his throat, making them both jump and turn to stare at her guiltily as she looked at them with a knowing smirk.

Henry wondered why she seemed to be everywhere. He knew it was this sort of gift every great hostess had but it could be very annoying when all he wanted was some privacy with Em.

“No,” Em recovered first, stepping away from Henry. “I’m just not feeling well, and Henry was checking up on me.”

Clara just hummed, coming closer and mimicking Henry’s actions, her brow drawing into a frown.

“I don’t think you have a fever, but you’re a little hot. Maybe it’s just that time of the month?” she asked, giving Henry a sideways glance.

“No, I had my period…” Em trailed off with a thoughtful frown as if she couldn’t exactly recall and Clara chuckled.

“You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d joke you’re pregnant,” Clara teased with a smile. “I mean, the bloating and nausea and all that? Anyway, just lie down for a while. You’re probably just overworked.”

Once again, Clara was gone like a quick whirlwind, leaving Henry and Em to stare at each other in shock. He knew his eyes were wide and he was stunned into silence. Em just looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“No!” she snapped once Henry recovered enough to try to say something. “Don’t even think it, Henry. It was once and I have an IUD. It can’t be.”

“You’re right,” he agreed quickly, but his heart was still thundering in his chest, his hands sweaty and he could barely breathe, terror and excitement mingled together in his chest, but he didn’t dare to voice it. Not when Em looked like she was about to throw up.

“Clara’s right. I’m just tired,” she sounded like she was trying to convince herself, not Henry. “I just need a good night of sleep. That’s all. So, we’re not gonna talk about this, because it’s impossible. What are the odds of actually happening?”

Less than 1 percent, Henry found out later, once he was at home and couldn’t sleep, still thinking about the entire thing. He googled it to calm his nerves, surprised by the hint of disappointment he felt at learning it was next to impossible. It wasn’t enough to stop him from thinking and wondering, though.

Enough so that when he heard the sound of his doorbell, Henry nearly jumped out of his skin. It was a noise he practically had forgotten about since Kal would always announce newcomers way before they could ring it. But Kal was back in Budapest. It didn’t make sense to bring him over when Henry would only be staying a day.

Henry glanced at his clock, frowning at the late hour as he made his way downstairs and pulled his door open. Em pushed her way inside, her face tearstained and a mask of fury as she threw something his way. Henry caught by reflex, before staring at her in confusion.

“I hate you, Cavill! I fucking hate you!” she declared, sniffling and hugging herself.

“Em, what…?” he didn’t get to finish his question, because she gestured at the object he was still holding. Henry finally looked down, eyes widening when he realized it was a pregnancy test. One of those pharmacy types and it was positive.

“I did five of them. All positive,” she said, rubbing her face dry and glaring at him. “Damn you and your fucking Superman sperm!”

Henry stared at her wordless, still clinging to the white stick in his hand.

“What are we gonna do?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t know how.

chapter 01                                     x(tbc)x                                           chapter 03

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[sunkissedpages]

breaking curfew || th x reader [part six]

A/N: what it do babey ahaha

Summary: When you got the job to be a counselor at the summer camp you’d grown up attending all your life, you expected to see some familiar faces. But you certainly hadn’t counted on having to work alongside the boy who had made it his life’s mission to make your life a living hell every summer. In fact, you thought you’d never have to see Tom Holland again. But he’s is in the cabin right across from yours with campers of his own- smirk, jawline, and all. If you didn’t know any better you might’ve thought that he applied for the position just to spite you, but who were you kidding? What kind of asshole would do something like that?

Warnings: swearing, fear of heights

What I listened to while writing: the breaking curfew playlist by @cinnamon-roll-peter!!

Word Count: 2.5k (updated)

Series Masterlist

Tom gulped nervously like he was suddenly reconsidering having to spend an undisclosed amount of time stuck in a small space with you. 

“Tom,” you growled and he took a step back. “What did you say?”

“I was just kidding,” he tried, but you didn’t buy it.

“No you weren’t, asshole. Who told you that?”

“I- um I just overheard your campers talking at dinner the other night?”

“Bullshit, what does ‘overheard’ really mean?”

“I may or may not have talked to them in passing...”

“What? When?”

Tom rolled his eyes. “You were preoccupied.” You still didn’t know what the fuck he meant. “With Ying,” he said like it should’ve been obvious. 

“So you think it’s okay to just take that opportunity to talk to my campers?” 

“They called me over!” 

You went on the offense. “What?! What did they want? What else did they say?”

“I don’t think I should-“

“Tom!”

“They were just asking about why you didn’t like me...”

Thunder crackled in the distance and you narrowed your eyes at him, wondering if the flush on his face was from sunburn or nerves. “And? What did you say?”

“I just said I didn’t know! That you just haven’t liked me since we were kids.”

“Of course you made me look like the bad guy, Tom. Typical.”

Tom scowled, licking his lips. “What did you want me to say? That you’re still pissed about breaking curfew one time eleven years ago?”

“Fuck you, is that really all you remember from that night? From all those years?”

“Do you always live in the past?” He asked, seeming bored.

“Do you always use humor to compensate for your tiny dick?”

“You know what, y/n, maybe if you weren’t such a bitch all the time, your campers might actually like you and wouldn’t be asking why you can’t be more like me!”

You watched his eyes grow wide with shock as yours did in turn. Your jaw went slack and your mouth fell into an o-shape. Whatever insult you had been about to hurl next dissolved on your tongue and turned bitter. It didn’t matter now. 

Tom was quiet, standing with his arms crossed in front of you, offering no apology. Your eyes burned and you didn’t even try to blink the tears away. It was your fault for pressing him into telling you what your kids really thought of you, it was your fault that they felt that way about you in the first place. But to compare you to Tom of all people, that cut deep. What had you done in a past life to deserve that blow?

“I’m requesting a transfer,” you decided simply and turned on your heel to leave.

“Wait-” Tom stuttered. You were surprised he was saying anything at all. “What do you mean transfer?”

“I mean I’m transferring to another daytime activity, if they’ll let me. I’m done with Arts and Crafts.”

“You mean you’re done with me.”

Your hand on the doorknob was the only answer you gave, but Tom reached out to stop you again, placing his hand over yours. 

“It’s still storming,” he said in a tone of annoyance tinged with concern. “The campus is locked down.”

“Are you going to stop me?” you challenged, sniffling.

He looked back down at your hands still touching and considered it, but ultimately let go, choosing to watch you run off into the rain instead. 

-

You tossed and turned in your bunk that night, unable to fall asleep. The camp beds were uncomfortable already, the added stress of the day was only making it more difficult to drift off. Tom’s words played on repeat in your head as you laid there in the dark. 

Your girls lay sleeping silently in their bunks around you, unaware of what you’d learned. In all honesty, you had thought about quitting. Packing your bags and driving home and spending the summer working retail in the city. As miserable as that sounded, you felt like you had let your campers down, and that they deserved better. Zendaya had quickly talked you out of that and insisted that even if the things Tom had said were true that there was still time to turn things around.

The summer wasn’t even close to being over, and it wasn’t that the girls didn’t like you, they just... “had a few critiques about your counseling style” as Z had put it gently.

“No first-time counselor’s perfect,” she had assured you. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve forgotten my campers names already.”

“Yeah, but have they said they wished you were more like Tom?!” you had groaned back, flopping back onto her twin-sized bed.

“Um, no. But they’re young, y/n. They probably just think he’s cute and meant it as a compliment- not an insult to you.”

“But what about when they said I’m no fun?”

Zendaya took a deep breath. “You have been a little distracted lately,” she admitted. You made a face. “Tom threw you off, I know. You weren’t expecting him to be here and he’s a dick, trust me, I get it. But at the end of the day you have to put that aside so you can do your job and be the best you can for these kids, you know? I think they probably just want you to be more engaged. Less focused on some boy, and more focused on them.”

You knew she was right, but it was still hard to hear. Zendaya wasn’t the kind of person to be brutally honest for no reason. No, she was kind and compassionate. But sometimes she would tell you what you needed to hear- always with your best interest in mind.

When your alarm went off from under your pillow the next morning you had barely slept three hours altogether. You considered snoozing it and getting up when your campers did, but you knew that the only time you had to get ready was right then so you pushed yourself up and out of bed like you were being played back in slow motion. 

You went through your routine on autopilot. Brush teeth, shower, awkward half-naked conversation with Fy, get dressed, wake kids up, help them get ready for the day. It was honestly a blur up until breakfast when you were standing in line with your cabin for pancakes. 

“Are you guys excited for the competition today?” you asked them. “It’s a lake day.”

“Yes!” Amalia exclaimed immediately. “I hope it’s a swimming race because I’ve been practicing at free time!”

From the corner of your eye you saw Grace shrink a little bit into herself and tried to smile reassuringly at her. 

“There will be some swimming,” you admitted, just so that they could all be prepared, “but not everyone will have to swim.”

You were ambushed with rapidfire questions next, but you stubbornly refused to tell them anything about the competition. Everyone else had to wait until the afternoon to learn what it was going to be, you weren’t going to give your campers an advantage by telling them what the activity was. Plus, it would ruin the fun. 

You smiled when the nagging subsided and they knew they weren’t going to get anything else out of you, but teased them with your superior knowledge about the activity all morning. 

By the time the actual event rolled around you were a little worried the hype wouldn’t live up to the actual activity. But as soon as your campers saw the pool inflatables they took off at a sprint down the hill towards the lake without warning, leaving you chasing after them with all of their backpacks and water bottles. 

For once you were early and had to wait for the rest of the camp to arrive before the competition could start, but your girls were already ready to go. It hadn’t even been explained yet, but there was a collection of fun pool floats down at the shore of the lake including, but not limited to: a flamingo, a popsicle, a watermelon slice, a shark, a pizza, a swan, a turtle, a unicorn, an iphone, a car, a rainbow, and a cat. 

They were scattered along the shore and were to be used in a partner race. Each camper would partner up with another and choose a float. One camper would get on the float and the other would be in charge of navigating it. The camper in the water was supposed to do all of the pushing and kicking while the one on top of the float could help with paddling. 

Since your cabin had five campers you teamed up with Grace. It was perfect because you knew how nervous she got around water events and could let her be the one on the float no problem. 

When Lorraine blew the whistle for the event to start chaos broke loose. You were going to let Grace pick your team’s float, but she was too slow so you grabbed the first one you could find- which just so happened to be an orange creamsicle with a bite taken out of it. 

Grace hopped onto the float and you pushed it out into the water, kicking as hard as you could. Three minutes in your stupid, ill-fitting swimsuit was riding down and your lungs were burning, but you still went as hard as you could until you reached the finish line. 

When you finally came up for air and rubbed the water from your eyes you saw Grace laughing along with the other campers who had finished around the same time. 

“What’s so funny?” you asked, putting your hands on your hips even though they couldn’t seem them under water. 

“You ran right into Theo and Amalia!” Grace snorted.

“I did?” You had absolutely no recollection of doing that, you must’ve truly been going buckwild if you didn’t even notice you had run into your own campers. You felt terrible until you saw them all giggling about it and decided to play along. “Well maybe you two shouldn’t have been in my way!”

“You’re the one who can’t swim straight!” Theo argued defensively. 

You shook your head. “I don’t know about that, I think we’re going to need to watch the replay to see who’s right.”

It wasn’t much, but they were laughing. You knew you wouldn’t be able to turn things around between you and your campers completely right away, but it was a start in the right direction. 

After everyone finished racing the winners were announced and then there was a little extra free time to spend at the lake before dinner. Cabin 11 ended up coming in third place which the girls were completely over the moon about, mostly because they beat a lot of high schoolers- which you thought was completely valid.

When event cleanup was finished and everyone was chilling by or in the water, a handful of counselors suggested cliff jumping from a wide ledge that overlooked the lake. You were going to decline the invitation when Harrison asked, but Tom said “nah, y/l/n won’t come she’s not a fun counselor”. The way he said it in front of your campers with his stupid smirk and stupid friends all watching made your blood boil.

Obviously that was a dare and obviously you had to take it, because you weren’t going to look like a pussy in front of all of your peers. And you weren’t about to let your campers down either. What’s the worst that could happen?

The cliff was a good bit higher than you were expecting, but you still told yourself you could do it. Everyone else up here was going to jump and they’d all be fine so you could too, right?

Wrong.

The ledge was probably only forty or fifty feet from the water’s surface, but once you were actually up there looking down it seemed miles away. Your campers looked like tiny dots bobbing in the water below, and you couldn’t even make out who was who. You gulped, and took a step back, pressing yourself up against the sturdy wall of the mountain for balance. 

You could hear Zendaya’s voice in the back of your mind, scolding you for giving in to peer pressure- from Tom of all people. You knew she was down there too, probably biting her nails ragged like she did when she was nervous. 

A cool breeze was making your wet swimsuit cling to your skin even more than it already was and you wrapped your arms around your shoulders in an unsuccessful attempt to fend off the chill. 

Unaware of you cowering in the corner, Harrison volunteered himself to go first. Taking a leap of faith off of the cliff, he spread his arms out like a bird and flipped into the water, shouting and screaming the whole time. 

The rest of the counselors took turns jumping, running, and pushing each other off the edge before plunging into the murky lake while you hung back. There were only a handful of jumpers left when Tom finally noticed you hiding behind everyone else. 

“You look like you’re about to puke.”

“I might,” you admitted, but shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal.

Unexpectedly, his face softened and his eyes crinkled with worry. “You know you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, y/n.”

“Why, so you can make fun of me for chickening out later and hold it over my head for the rest of the summer?”

“I mean that would be a bonus, but-”

You took a shaky step forward towards the jumping point. “You’re the one who said I’m boring, okay? I know you wanted me up here just so you could get back at me for transferring and prove to yourself I’m a quitter or whatever you need to tell yourself. Don’t try and backpedal now.”

You were the only two up there now, and you could hear confused shouting from 

“So what if I didn’t think you would do it?” Tom argued. “It’s just not like you!”

“You don’t know anything about me, Tom!” you shouted back. “And you don’t even like me so why do you care?”

He scoffed and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t.” 

You pushed past him to the rocky drop-off of the cliff, pausing to take a deep breath when your toes were dangling over edge. You heard Tom shout something as you fell, but it was lost in the wind whistling past your ears. 

The impact on the water knocked the air out of your lungs and made your vision go cloudy fast. You were still falling, deeper and deeper into the water, the glassy surface disappearing out of reach above you as you sunk. 

When you finally had the sense to try and swim towards the sunlight, pain tore its way up through your right arm and you tried to scream out in agony, but were suffocated by the water around you, pulling you deeper still. 

You were forced to use your left arm to try and claw your way to the surface, ignoring the way the pain from your other arm was making you feel lightheaded. Black spots danced in your vision and you were so far gone that you didn’t even notice someone swim up behind you and grab you by the waist to pull you to safety.

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

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[bisexualcrowley]

Stole the Show Pt.3

Previous Chapter           Next Chapter

Pairing: Dominic “Sonny” Carisi x Fem! Reader

Chapter summary: Y/n takes Sonny home for a drink after a successful rehearsal, and things get a little heated

Content/warnings: Smut/nsfw content, some fluff? Cursing, mentions of drinking

Word count: 1,709

A/n: Finally updating this series hjsksjs, definitely because I spent ages revising and not at all because I’m procrastinating an essay

"Hey, Carisi! Why dont’cha come to my place for a drink! I just crushed every frickin’ song we did tonight, I feel like that’s cause for celebration!” Y/n grinned at her friend as they walked along a back hallway in the theater, leading Sonny to God-knows where, a voice in the back of his head chiding himself for not memorizing the theatre’s whole layout.

“I’d be down for that! Got nothing better to do, anyways” The taller detective grinned, giving Y/n a playful clap on the shoulder. “You did real good in there, doll”

“Hell yeah I did! I’ll meet you in the lobby in five minutes, just gotta grab my stuff. Oh also! Congratulations, Cannoli Boy, you’ve been granted the honor of carrying my bag”

Y/n shot back with a playful wink before turning on her heel and disappearing into a dressing room, leaving a dumbfounded Sonny laughing in the hallway.

“Cannoli boy?” He mumbled to himself with a grin as he walked back up the hall towards the theatre’s exit. He was thrilled to see how confident Y/n had become again; it had been years since she had seemed so genuinely happy about work.

Luckily for Sonny, the previously packed lobby has begun to clear out, leaving only a few stragglers who seemed too excited to want to leave the theatre remaining. The detective chuckled at the scene as he leaned casually against a wall waiting for his partner, the childish glee of a nearby group of theatre nerds bringing him a feeling of comfort he hadn’t expected from such a scene.

The wait wasn’t long before Y/n emerged from the back hallway with her duffel bag swinging heavily on her arm and a smile painting her face. Sonny broke into a grin as she sauntered over to him, doing a shockingly bad job at concealing the pride she felt from the night’s performance. 

In an oh-so-graceful way, Y/n shot her partner another wink before heavily shrugging the bag off her shoulder to land in his arms, Sonny catching it without a fumble.

“You’re a real charmer, y’know Y/n?” Sonny snickered as he tucked the bag under his arm, leading his partner out the door into the night. Had it been any other situation Y/n would have come up with some sly remark in response, but still riding the high from the night’s success she chose to just laugh it off, allowing her friend to call over a taxi for the two of them.

The ride passed quickly, Sonny repeatedly trying to hit a higher note in Mamma Mia and each time failing horrifically and sending even the driver into hysterics each time, and before they knew it, the pair had arrived at y/n’s apartment.

40 minutes and a half bottle of tequila later, y/n found herself sitting sideways on her chair and staring at her partner while he circled a finger over the rim of his empty glass. Was it what it's called, a chair? One person couch? Loveseat? She was tipsy enough for the word to be completely lost to her, the only thing worth focusing on in the moment was Carisi.

Sonny was lounging casually on what Y/n was sure actually was called a couch, his long legs slung up onto a coffee table as he rambled on about how fucking much he loved puppies.

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was leftover adrenaline or maybe the alcohol was simply lessening her guilt towards being attracted to a coworker. Either way, for what felt like the millionth time since they had first met, Y/n found herself wondering how it would feel to have his lips crash desperately against her own, to have his perfect hands ghost over flushed skin, what it would be like to thread her fingers through his goddamn perfect hair

She felt a not-so-subtle twinge of arousal as her eyes met Sonny's again, his eyelids drooping lazily as he smiled towards his friend.

Fuck he had a gorgeous smile

“Want another?” Y/n questioned with a nod towards Sonny's empty glass, hoping to distract herself from her insistent thoughts of his fingers tracing along her neck, across her lips...

Wordlessly Sonny held out his glass, pulling Y/n out of her thoughts which were growing embarrassingly more inappropriate with each second that passed by. Absentmindedly she got to her feet, wandering over to the counter where the bottle of alcohol sat waiting, trying not to take notice to the slick feeling of her now soaked panties rubbing against her core with each step.

From behind her, Y/n heard Sonny get up, say something, but her continuous flow of filthy thoughts was a bit more than distracting. Planning to ask her friend to repeat whatever he had said, she left the bottle on the counter and turned on her heel towards him. 

Much to her surprise and no doubt Sonny’s as well, as she spun around to face him, the detective had gotten up from his seat and was reaching around her for the bottle himself, landing Y/n sandwiched between the cool marble of the countertop and the firm form of Sonny Carisi.

Had it been any other time, they would have laughed it off, ignored the ay their hearts fluttered at the close contact. Turns out they were just the perfect amount of tipsy to have completely forgotten their usual actions, leaving them frozen in that position.

Looking up at Sonny’s uncharacteristically shocked expression, Y/n bit her lip, hesitated momentarily before giving in to the wave of courage that had washed over her. “...Can I kiss you?” 

Blue eyes widened in surprise, narrowed as he tried to figure out if he had heard his partner correctly. He figured he must have missed something, tuned out some inside joke, but nodded hopefully anyways, and was immediately met by Y/n’s arms flying around his neck and her lips crashing against his.

Sonny retuned the kiss without hesitation, his own arms winding around her waist and tugging her hips against his. It didn’t take long for the two of them to start grasping at each other, one of Sonny’s hands snaking upwards, into her shirt to grasp at Y/n’s breast while she rocked her hips into his, grinding down on the rapidly growing bulge in his pants.

Y/n was sure her pants were as drenched as her panties by now as her hands flew upward to tug at Sonny’s hair, drawing a whine against her mouth from the taller figure.

“Holy shit, Sonny...” Y/n gasped when he pulled off her mouth, his chest heaving and lips swollen and she was sure she looked no better.

Far past the point of wanting foreplay, Y/n released her grip on Sonny’s hair so she could reach a hand between their heated bodies and roughly palm at his swollen erection, earning a choked moan and a thrust of his hips into her hand.

“Fuck, Y/n. Need you,” He hissed, stepping back to tug desperately at his belt. Y/n felt the same, suddenly unable to keep herself from him any longer. Frantic hands flew at the fastenings of her pants, kicking them off along with her panties as Sonny did the same beside her. 

The moment his aching cock was freed from his boxers Sonny threw himself at Y/n, pressing her back against the back of her couch and grinding his length against her inner thigh, the slick feeling of his pre-cum so close to her core making her eyes fall shut.

“Don’t be a fuckin’ tease Carisi” Y/n whined, fingers threading through his hair again and tightening when she opened her eyes again, being met with Sonny’s intense stare.

His eyes stayed locked with Y/n’s, breathlessly watching the little ways she squirmed with each glide of his cock along her clit, and when he finally pushed into her, inch by inch until he bottomed out, Y/n let out an animalistic howl, crying out at the sensation of her walls clenching around his girth.

“Y/n...” Her name fell from his lips as a desperate groan.

To her relief he took no time in working up a rhythm, slamming his hips into her own again and again until she was crying out with each thrust, moaning and whimpering as each drive of his cock into her aching cunt hit something deep inside.

His hips pistoned into her over and over, one hand clutching the back of the couch Y/n was pressed against and the other clasped on her thigh, no doubt leaving bruises while his cock slammed into her g-spot and left her gasping beneath him.

As Y/n let out another wanton moan, fingers slid downwards to press against her clit, and the slight amount of friction mixed with Sonny’s increasingly rough thrusts was exactly what she needed to push her over the edge, back arching and eyes clenching shut as she succumbed to the pleasure.

Y/n’s climax triggered his own, and with a wrecked moan Sonny came as hard as she had, crying out shamelessly against her chest. He continued thrusting, fucking his way through both their orgasms as his release began to drip down Y/n’s thighs, his muscles tensing under her when his body finally stilled. 

Completely and thoroughly fucked out, Y/n gathered her last remaining bits of strength and rolled over the back of the couch, collapsing on the pillowy cushions and dragging Sonny with her. Sonny, being a fair bit larger than Y/n landed quite unceremoniously on top of her, drawing an “oomph” from him and a worn out snicker from Y/n.

“Shhh, no talk, just shut up n’ sleep” Y/n mumbled against the taller figure’s neck. Sonny, too exhausted to put any effort into speaking did just as she said, and with the vague thought that tomorrow morning would be uncomfortable, Sonny drifted off to sleep, Y/n softly snoring beneath him with her legs tangled in his own.

[uwua3]

Your writing is amazing! Like honestly! ✨ Can I request some yuki dating headcanons like with an s/o. If not I understand have a great day! 😊

thank you so much ♡ can i just say i love your support and enthusiasm for my writing 🥺 i always see you liking/replying to my posts and i am In Love With You i swear *thousands of hearts* thank you for everything~ but yes, of course! one super soft yuki hc coming up right away!!!

summary: yuki was yours and only yours, and he wanted to make sure everyone knew

author’s note: this was so sweet, it gave me multiple cavities! i’m sorry if it’s awkward, i’m not too experienced in the art of ~ love ~ even though i’m such a hopeless romantic! hope this was cute enough :D

i hope everyone knows relationships don’t make you whole, you are your own person. your s/o can help you improve to be the best version possible, but you are just as unique and interesting as an individual, never forget that ♡

word count: 1,803

music: Q&A – seventeen ft. ailee, hold your hand – lee hi

couple outfits.

🌻👘 rurikawa yuki

yuki didn’t just date anybody, let’s make that clear. in fact, yuki never dated anyone before you!

yuki liked you, so, so much. before he said anything, it physically hurt him to be so distracted by your presence when he had so many responsibilities

(it also hurt tenma when backstage, yuki forgot what he was doing and didn’t look where the needle was going when he became too entranced)

(“you idiot! stop staring at them for one second!” tenma yelped, not seeing yuki’s embarrassed blush before the two got caught in a petty argument once again. obviously, you had to play peacemaker)

but yuki was scared every time you looked at him and saw your stupid smile. you seemed so happy around him, and yuki could tell the signs before you even knew

you had to like him romantically, your hugs lingered and personality was made of sugar only around him

you were so obvious, you liked him and he was scared of messing everything up. it was so rare to find a good friend like you, was it worth it to risk everything?

before he even knew it, yuki was preparing a rejection because no person could come between him and his work (at least, that’s what he tried to reason it with)

but every time you looked at yuki, with all the affection in the world, he didn’t have the heart to say it

maybe, yuki didn’t want to say something he didn’t believe in

so the best solution was if he avoided the topic, you guys would be friends forever and nothing would have to go wrong

so when he confessed out of no where, yuki slapped his hands over his own mouth because he was such an idiot (for once)

you two were buying fabrics for the next mankai production, yuki happily browsing the store with the increased budget

yuki practically pulled you to the secluded corner, convincing you the store’s hidden gems were always in the piles of boxes about to be donated

when you found a discarded silk scarf hidden amongst the mixture, you looped it around your own neck and pretended like you were ali–baba, reciting the lines from water me! to get his attention

(you helped yuki practice his lines in the script so you were practically an understudy)

yuki already started ignoring your ridiculous tactics, about to tell you to shut up and help him find the perfect material when he turned around—you had it!

yuki rushed forward, unintentionally pulling you in close as he inspected the fabric’s qualities, not realizing how you were invading his personal space

“how did you even find this, you must be my...” yuki stumbled on his words, looking up to see you staring at him with such unmasked fondness, it made him become flustered

“your what?” you questioned, playfully smiling as you leaned forward, causing yuki to automatically pull back

(silly yuki! he forget he still had a death grip on the scarf as you followed him forward, holding out your arm on the wall nearby to prevent you two from falling)

yuki flinched, expecting the impact of the ground but opened his eyes to see you were leaning over him and was trapped between your arms

a beat of silence passed. yuki was about to let go before you moved in closer, innocently tilting your head as you had a cat–like cheshire grin

“tell me i’m yours, yuki~” you giggled, watching the way his face immediately turned red. any other person, he’d push off without a doubt. but he liked that you teased him so much, that you were so affectionate and open to him

yuki wish he didn’t like you so much

he knew you were joking, but,

yuki really did like you so much

“you’re mine. i want you to be mine.” yuki admitted, his expression forming one of shock as if he couldn’t believe what he said. how could he just confess that?! yuki shut his mouth, still against the wall as you blinked once. twice.

it didn’t take long before you fell back from laughter, bruising yuki’s ego as he crossed his arms and looked away, embarrassed

this is what he got for trying to be spontaneous and “in the moment”. yuki didn’t know what to expect, was he ready for this?

wait... what if he’s been reading all the signs wrong? oh my god, what if you didn’t even see him that way?!

“aish... don’t laugh... you’re so—” yuki felt the scarf get yanked around his wrist like a lasso and before he could react, it was you who pulled him in close this time

his hands landed on your shoulders, trying to balance himself but you kept him steady, putting your arms around his waist as you grinned like a little kid

“i like you, too.” you confessed, overwhelmed with happiness as yuki felt the same

yuki smiled and closed the distance, feeling like you two were in your own world

the fabric store was forever his favorite now, because it was the place he 1. found the perfect silk material for a costume (every time), 2. kissed you for the first time, and 3. had his first relationship start

from that point forward, you two entered a relationship full of mutual respect, care, and even love later on

(yuki said it first, surprisingly enough. but this time, it was on purpose)

yuki fantasized about being the dream couples he saw online in his pinterest board, reblogging couples outfits and creating a private folder he gazed at every once in a while

when you discovered this, you intentionally showed up wearing the same color scheme as yuki and the rest was history

once yuki saw you were just as excited and giddy to appear as a couple, yuki put his sewing skills to work as he made custom pieces he knew you’d love

you name it, you probably got it: matching berets with your signature color, pretty hair ribbons and bows, and for anniversaries/special events, yuki would work day and night to craft the outfit of your dreams

yuki loved expressing his affection through gifts because it was personally difficult to say he liked you without sounding like his default sarcastic state

every day was valentine’s day, by the way

so showing up with a huge, perfectly wrapped box or bag with colorful tissue paper that always correlated with the gift wasn’t out of the norm, yuki loved spoiling you~ (lucky you!)

if yuki saw something in the window on his way home that reminded him of you, he bought it without a second thought and watched your eyes lit up (so worth his empty wallet)

if yuki found a teddy bear that was the embodiment of all things soft and lovely, it was already at your door step with a handwritten letter he would never admit to writing

everything that made him happy started reminding yuki of you (you had to directly tell him to stop to prevent him from going broke)

any time yuki went out shopping, he took you because he liked seeing what your interests and dislikes were

yuki was very thoughtful and considerate, always paying attention to how you reacted to certain things outside of the fashion world as well

but you also watched him closely as well, and it allowed yuki to reveal his more vulnerable, insecure side when he found out you didn’t judge him and even, understood him

you also practiced doing couple’s PDA with him when you noticed how scared he got

you would initiate hand–holding, hugging, and doing small things like bending down to tie his shoes or any ribbon he had on his outfit; just casual contact to get him used to gentle touches that were more than just friendly now

it took a while, but yuki started returning the favor by fixing the accessories in your hair and even wore this tacky tenma bracelet you bought for him as a gag gift

(he hated it and the way tenma looked like some egotistical maniac, but it made you laugh every time. it was worth it) (maybe tenma’s dumb face was good for something)

it was also nice to hear genuine, real compliments everyday. you make it your goal to remind yuki of the small details you loved on his outfit, or how soft his hair was, and the way he presented himself just to show your attention was all his when you two were together

yuki would grow to trust you with his whole heart, feeling his own heart become candy because you were just so sweet

you stole his heart and never gave it back, and it was lovely to know you were taking great care of it and truly treasured him for him

between the two of you, you taught yuki how to trust and rely on other people despite his independent complex as he often put on a strong front

yuki would go to you first if he had a problem, which was hard at first but he got into the habit because he wanted to show you he cared

yuki would text you frequently asking about your day (newsflash, he actually does want to know) and would send you updates of any piece he was working on

you understood yuki prioritized his seamstress career and always proudly spammed his social media posts with heart emojis and adoring compliments

(he always had to hide and cover his face with his hands because he was so grateful you were so proud) (he never told you that, though)

even though he’d instantly get flustered and tried to deny them, you helped him believe them more and more everyday until he could confidently take anything on in the world

(“if my partner thinks it’s cute, i’m cute!” yuki loudly said to the mirror, hearing your laugh the next room over. oops)

you guys didn’t have to talk every single day, though, don’t get me wrong. you two always wanted the best for each other and defined healthy boundaries to allow both of you to flourish and prosper!

yuki, at first, always apologized for spending time on certain projects but you never accepted them, instead encouraging him even more and praising his work ethic

yuki still sent you links throughout the day of things to try and cute outfits he’d love to see you in

it was so thoughtful that throughout the day, you were always on his mind even if he was busy

but no matter what, you two always supported one another through your endeavors and did everything 100% with each other’s best interests at heart

you really liked yuki, and he liked you back just as much, maybe even a little more

(okay, definitely a lot more)

[lia-jones]

Growing Together - Chapter Seventeen - One Guest Too Many

Author's note: If you haven't read it already, I invite you to read my Halloween Ficlet: His Worst Nightmare. It has insight into what is about to happen in this chapter, and it will make it richer. I hope you like it. Enjoy!

Victor stroked his sleeping son’s curls before turning off the light. It was expected that Owen wouldn’t take long to fall asleep, he had been running around all afternoon, playing soccer with his father. With a chuckle, Victor closed Owen’s bedroom door and walked to the living room, where his wife waited for him.

He admired her from the doorframe, sitting on the sofa, her legs crossed on the upholstery as she minded her phone. For years, he had given up on his dream of building a home, resigned to a seemingly certain fate of solitude. He still couldn’t believe that this was his reality now. He was a husband and a father, he shared his bed and played soccer in the park, he had Valentine’s Day dinners and teacher-parent meetings. He was so happy that sometimes it was hard to keep his calm and collected demeanor. It was like he could burst at his seams at any moment, and laugh until he cried.

His heart jumped with joy when the love of his life turned to him, welcoming him with a warm smile.

“He’s sleeping?”

“Yes.” He smiled back. “Didn’t even stir when I went to check on him.”

He sat beside her, pulling her feet onto his lap, taking the phone from his pocket.

“Alright, let’s get this done.” He gently squeezed her toes.

“Ready when you are.” Andrea showed him her schedule on her phone.

There had been a slight change in their Sunday evening, one that was of the utmost importance. Between LFG and LCG affairs, and the duties they entailed, it was essential that they coordinate their schedules, so at least one of them could attend to Owen at all times and they had some free time on the weekends. It was a delicate dance, oftentimes almost impossible to execute, but they would always find a way.

“Alright.” He focused on his screen. “At 7 pm tomorrow, dinner with the partners from London.”

“On my schedule.” She nodded, grimacing after, as she remembered something. “Damn it, we need to find a babysitter. Do you think we could leave Bug with Goldman?”

Victor smirked. Of course he had thought of that already, who did she think he was?

“Goldman is available, I already confirmed with him. He’ll take Owen.” Victor swiped again on his phone. “Tuesday. I can pick up Owen from school and make dinner. I have nothing past 6 pm.”

“Actually, we should go shopping to get some clothes for him. We could go pick him up together and head to the mall, maybe have dinner there?”

“Didn’t you tell me you had to go to the University on Tuesday?” He checked on his phone, wondering if he had missed it.

“I had to reschedule for Friday, Olive will be away on a business trip on Tuesday.”

“You’ll have to reschedule.” Victor responded tentatively, hoping she wouldn’t be too upset.

“You’re busy?” She checked her phone.

“I am.” He nodded, preparing himself for a reaction. “And so are you. Mia invited us for dinner on Friday.”

“Ugh.” She complained, rubbing her forehead. “Why?”

“Andrea.” He tried to appease her.

“Oh please, you know she just wants to ask one of us for an interview or a photo shoot.” She removed her feet from his lap in protest. “We don’t have time for anything else, but we have for this?”

“She keeps inviting us and I keep refusing. I couldn’t say no again. Besides, if a certain someone would update her schedule when she knows she will be busy, none of this would’ve happened.” He scolded.

“Friday is still not good for me.” She glared at him.

“You were the one who agreed to a double date with them on our wedding day. I thought you wanted this. You still don’t like her?”

“I don’t not like her.” She sighed. “I just don’t like like her. But that’s not the point anyway, I can’t do it on Friday.”

Victor paused for a moment, assessing the situation. Despite what he had thought, Andrea was still having a hard time fully accepting his past, and even after marrying him, there seemed to be something that was making her jealous. That, Victor simply could not have. He had to show his wife the truth, that she was the only woman for him, and the best way to do it was to get them both together. Now, more than ever, it was important that they went.

“Ok, then.” Victor sat back with a smirk. “Since you are unavailable, you should call her and cancel. I’m sure she will understand.”

Andrea froze, staring at him, not expecting his move. Andrea could be many things, but she wasn’t impolite, and Mia would insist enough for her to say yes. She was relying on Victor to be the villain and refuse since she knew she wouldn’t be able to do it herself.

“Maybe you could do it.” She practically batted her eyelids at him. “She talked to you first.”

“Aren’t you the busy one?” He lifted a brow at her. “Don’t expect me to do your dirty work.”

“You received her invitation, not me.” She ran her hand across his chest slowly, knowing how it would affect him. “I think you-”

“Nope.” It took all his strength to resist her, as her touch was enough to cloud his judgment and make him cave. “If you are the one who can’t make it, you should be the one to tell her.”

Andrea rolled her eyes and sighed, defeated.

“Fine, we’re going then.” She sat straight on the sofa. “She’s going to make me agree anyway, may as well save me the trouble.”

“Excellent.” Victor pulled her to his lap, craving more of her. “Now that that is settled, we can spend time on other activities.”

“And for the record… Mmm.” She moaned as Victor pulled her even closer, his lips tracing her jaw. “I did not agree to go on a double date.”

“Yes, you did.” He spoke with his lips still pressed on her skin, busy tasting her. “We should have a double date.” He teased, mimicking her voice. “Ignore what Victor says about your food, we can cook together.”

“That does sound like something I would say.” Her fingers ran through his hair, sending ripples of pleasure down his spine. “Although I do not sound like that.”

“You don’t.” A wicked smile widened on his face, as he buried it in the nape of her neck. “You sound shorter.”

“I beg your pardon?!” She pulled away with a gasp.

Victor, however, knew his wife better than anyone and was quick to react. He took her in a hungry kiss, deeply and greedily, his body aching for her, his erection pressing against the fabric of his sweat pants. By the time they broke the kiss, both panting and drunken with lust, she had long forgotten what she was supposed to be upset about.

Not wasting any time, he took his love in his arms and carried her to the bedroom, ready to show her how special she was to him, ending their weekend on a perfect note.

His wife complained during the week about the mountain of emails Mia had sent her, excited about their night together. They had agreed to cook together that evening, partly to bond, partly to spite him, so they regularly traded recipes, deciding on one that could fit everyone’s taste. Unsurprisingly, Victor was on dessert duty and was asked to bring pudding.

Victor watched his wife as they took the elevator to Mia’s apartment, her eyes slightly shiny from exhaustion, yet an honest smile on her face. She had had a terrible week and somehow managed to sleep even less than him, so he figured at this point she was actually welcoming a moment of relaxation with friends, even if it was with Mia.

Naturally, Mia had to almost ruin it all the moment she opened the door. She was so excited she almost tackled Andrea to the ground with a hug, if not for Victor’s vigilant hand.

“Watch it, dummy.” He scolded. “I want to leave here with my wife in one piece, if you don’t mind.”

“I’m so sorry, Andrea.” Mia clumsily brushed his wife’s clothes with her hands. “I’m just so happy to see you here.”

Victor glanced at his son, whose eyes were wide in horror.

“You must be Owen!” She beamed at him. “My name is Mia, how are you?”

“Hi, pleased to meet you.” He quickly extended his hand to shake hers, before she got any ideas about hugging him as well. Smart boy.

“You are your father’s son, so polite!” She entered the apartment, inviting them in. “Did you bring the goods?” Mia glanced at the bags Andrea was holding.

“Don’t worry, I got your stash.” She chuckled, handing her one of the bags.

“It’s pudding, not heroin.” Victor scoffed, as he took his son’s coat off.

“It might as well have heroin, it’s so addictive.” Mia peeked inside the bag. “Come in, Gavin is in the kitchen preparing some ingredients.”

The last time he had been in Mia’s apartment was when he brought her home from the hospital, after the Blackout and the Queen’s death. He had laid her in bed, tucked her in, telling her to rest, and cooked her lunch, leaving her kitchen spotless afterwards. As he had navigated the foreign stove and cabinets, taking and putting back ingredients and utensils, he was confident they had a chance, and he would fight for it. His joy, however, had a bittersweet taste, like he had lost something significant that day, although he didn’t know what. There was a feeling of longing and sadness eating at him, one that not even the thought of finally having a relationship with Mia could fill. As usual, he had shoved it aside, like he did with most of his feelings, focusing on the present moment.

In hindsight, maybe he knew he was so tired of being lonely that he was mistaking things. Maybe he knew he didn’t love her. When she handed him the wedding invitation, it was a blow, but not as deadly as he thought it would be. And when he met his wife, in that beautiful teal dress, with that distracting peacock on her wrist, he knew right away that he had finally found out what love felt like, and he was never able to let go. Andrea needed to know that, like she knew the sun was hot - without a shadow of a doubt.

They found Gavin chopping onions at the counter, an English Springer Spaniel at his feet, keeping him company. Owen immediately became fascinated with the opportunity of making a canine friend.

“Can I pet him?” He completely ignored Gavin’s attempt to greet him.

“Yes, he is friendly.” Gavin looked at him with sweet eyes. “Scratch his ears, he likes that.”

“What’s his name?” Owen did as suggested, giggling when the dog turned his head slightly, to fully enjoy the gesture.

“Flyer.” Mia chimed in. “You know, he used to be a police dog. We took him home when he became too old to do the job.”

“He used to chase criminals?” Owen became even more excited.

Victor saw himself years ago, making soup in that kitchen, alone with his thoughts, and looked at his wife, watching over his son, eyes trained on him and the dog’s reaction. His heart beat faster, bringing light to a truth: the feelings of longing and loss had vanished the moment he laid eyes on Andrea. She was his destiny, he was certain of that. He came behind her, gently wrapping her hand with his, as a silent thank you

“He caught a lot of criminals in his day.” Gavin took him away from his thoughts, still talking about his pet. “He also has a good nose for drugs, that was his job for quite a while.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t let him smell my dad’s pudding.” Owen spoke in all seriousness, making them all laugh.

“Ok, we need to start dinner.” Mia turned to the boy. “Owen, would you like to watch cartoons with Flyer, while we cook dinner? Or would you rather stay here with us?”

“Can I watch cartoons, please?” Owen asked. Andrea seemed hesitant.

“Don’t worry. Flyer will take good care of him, won’t you boy?” Gavin ran his fingers through the dog’s soft brown and white coat. “And he’s just in the next room, we’ll hear him if he needs us.”

“Behave.” Victor stroked his son’s curls before he left for the living room, the dog right behind him.

“Aw, you’re a dad.” Mia cooed at Victor.

“I am.“ Victor smiled, pulling his wife to his side, his hand caressing her back. “So, I was promised a meal. Do I have to make it myself?” He teased.

“Oh no, today I will make you swallow your bitter words with my cooking abilities.” Mia lifted her chin. “You just stay there, enjoying your wine and the show.” Mia took a pan out of her cupboard, showing it to his wife. "Andrea and I will cook dinner.”

Victor had to admit, it was quite the show. A horror movie, to be exact. Some things did never change, and Mia in the kitchen was one of them. If not for his and Andrea’s watchful eye, she would’ve set the kitchen on fire at least three times. Victor was antsy on his seat, seeing her almost make all kinds of mistakes, aching to take over, but since Mia had decided he wouldn’t touch the food unless it was to eat it, he couldn’t help but sit idly watching his wife cook and stop every one of Mia’s attempts to kill them all. So much for showing her cooking prowess. At least she was wise enough to ask Andrea to participate.

“How are you still alive? Or your husband?” Victor scolded.

“Well, it’s a new recipe.” Mia pouted. “Everyone has troubles when cooking something new.”

“Just sit here and watch while Andrea does it.” Victor sighed, annoyed. “Maybe you can learn a thing or two.”

“I definitely can learn a lot.” Mia laughed nervously, taking a pen and paper to take notes. “This way is probably better.”

“Safer is what you mean.” Victor continued. “Although I have to say, if there is anyone here who can think of a way of accidentally killing someone with a pen, it’s you.”

“Come on, she was not that bad!” Andrea smiled at Mia. “In any case, be careful with my husband. I need to take him home in one piece, or they won’t give me back my deposit.”

“I should be the one concerned here!” Mia laughed, then turning to Victor. “Do you remember how we first met? You hit me with your ball! You’re the dangerous one.”

“I hit you with a ball because a certain dummy didn’t know any better than to get out of the way.” He calmly retorted.

“It was your lousy aim!” She argued. “You made me pudding the next day, remember? I still have your bowl!” Turning to the cupboard,she took something from it. “Here! My souvenir.”

Victor’s mind went back to his childhood as he saw the old bowl. He remembered his child self, always acting strong and logical, when inside he was fragile and hungry for affection. If he could travel back in time again he would go to that boy and tell him that despite what was still ahead, he would be alright.

“You kept it all this time?” His voice was hoarse with emotion.

“Of course.” Mia replied, her voice shaky.

Gavin cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable. Victor raised his eyes to meet his wife’s, finding them shiny and sad. She was getting it all wrong. He was moved, yes, but not because he was reminiscing on some sweet memory. It was because he could see how far he had come, and how blessed he was now. It was not because of Mia, it was because of her.

“This has to be a record for you.” Victor changed his tone to a mocking one. “You kept something for over twenty years and didn’t break it.”

“Dinner is almost ready.” Gavin declared, probably more because he wanted to change the subject than the urgency of the food being served. “I’ll go set the table.”

“Help Andrea, I’ll go.” Mia got up from her seat, heading for the living room.

“It’s alright, I’ll help Andrea.” Victor got up from his seat.

When they were finally alone, he then turned to his wife, his arm wrapping around her waist, his hand cupping her cheek lovingly, making her face him.

“Don’t entertain silly ideas in your head.”

“What do you mean?” She frowned.

“I’m yours.” He looked into her eyes, hoping she could see the truth in his.

She stood silent for a moment, staring back at him.

“Hey, what are you people waiting for?” Mia called from the living room. “The table is set.”

After some good food and some good wine, Andrea’s light seemed to shine a little brighter, carefree, bantering and laughing.

“Did I tell you already how much I love your dog?” She smiled. “Look at him, watching over Owen. It’s adorable.” She gazed lovingly at their son, who had fallen asleep on the couch after dinner.

“Alright, who wants a final drink?” Mia spoke, bringing a tray with several liqueur bottles.

“As long as you don’t spill it on me, like you almost did with the wine.” Victor retorted.

“Please, even if I ruin your black shirt, you have hundreds of them.” Mia swatted at him.

Before Victor could argue, Andrea jumped in, all excited.

“Wait, wait! I know this one!” She raised her hand playfully. “I have been extensively educated on the subject of black shirts, I have been preparing for this moment for two years now.”

Victor remembered all the lectures he had given his wife when she said he “looked like he always wore the same shirt.” That was her chance for retaliation. He braced himself for impact.

“Apparently they all look alike but they are all different.” His wife continued. “There are many shades of black. For example, I would say this one is closer to coal than pitch black, but Victor has shirts in other tones, like jet black, onyx or raven. Also, the collars differ, there is the classic, the button down, the pinned, and my favorite, the mandarin. The fabric is also different, there is Oxford cloth, Pinpoint Oxford, Royal Oxford, among other material and finishing touches. They can also have different buttons, different cuffs, you name it. Victor has many black shirts, but I can guarantee you there aren’t two alike.”

Victor was stunned. To be honest, he never thought she had heard his explanation on the matter, she would always glare at him with half hooded eyes, like she was bored to death. But she did. Moreover, she apparently memorized it.

“Surprised?” She gave him a sly smile. “So what’s my grade, Teacher Victor?”

He couldn’t help but grin at her. Under the table, he took her hand, tracing on her palm A+.

“Wow, Victor seems impressed! That’s not a common feat!” Mia took a sip of her drink. “You are truly made for each other. I’m honestly glad everything ended well and not in bloody tragedy.”

“What do you mean, bloody tragedy?” Andrea frowned.

There was a moment of silence in the kitchen. Gavin glared at Mia.

“They need to know.” Mia turned to Gavin, in all seriousness.

“Need to know what?” Victor asked.

Another long pause. The hosting couple looked down.

“Mia.” Victor warned, starting to lose his patience.

“Ok… So… Something happened at your wedding.” Mia started. “The reason why I pulled you into the house before the reception… was because there was someone with a gun trying to hurt you.”

“Wait, what?” Andrea was stunned. “Who?”

Mia took a deep breath.

“It was Daniel, Andrea. I saw him on top of a tree, rifle in hand. He was trying to kill you.”

Andrea looked at Mia with wide eyes, the words still sinking in her. Victor, on the other hand, was livid.

“Daniel was at my wedding?” Victor snapped, enraged. “How am I only knowing of this-”

He was interrupted by a sudden movement in his peripheral vision. Andrea had doubled over, spilling the contents of her stomach all over Mia’s floor.

“Do you feel sick?” He asked his still fairly pale wife while they were driving home. “Let me know if you need me to pull over.”

“I’m fine.” She croaked. “Is Owen-”

“He’s asleep.” Victor assured her.

“Did Gavin explain how it happened, how he…” Andrea shook her head in disbelief. “How did he get in there in the first place?”

It was his fault. He was careless. He let his guard down.

“I will speak to Gavin later. Don’t be afraid, I will not let him hurt you.”

“I’m not afraid.” Andrea’s anger seeped through her voice. “I’m infuriated. I’m tired of people always thinking they can take whatever they want.” She looked Victor in the eyes, her lip quivering. “I’m sick of being bullied.”

Victor’s jaw clenched so hard that his teeth hurt. He was careless, he had let himself entertain with his happiness, letting his guard down. He was an idiot for believing the world would let him catch a break. And if not for Mia and Gavin, he would have paid a painful price: he would have lost what he treasured the most.

He clenched the steering wheel hard, vowing to himself never to make the same mistake again. And Daniel would be punished for all the pain that he caused, and curse the day he laid a hand on Victor’s precious Light.

[adenei]

Auror 99 - Chapter 3

A/N: Feels weird knowing I didn’t post anything yesterday (literally, nothing), BUT I’ve been doing a lot of writing. I was finally able to get chapter 3 onto paper! For those of you who dropped me some prompts, I’m not ignoring them, but do know it’s going to be a bit before I get back to those as I really want to see this story unfold first. Thanks for your understanding!

*************************

Chapter 3: Bonding

“So...do you mind if we take a look at the cases that are already outstanding on Gerteso?” Hermione asked Amy after she watched Ron leave with Jake. She was only slightly worried about him pairing up with Jake. He didn’t seem like the most...reliable of detectives on first glance.

“Oh, yes, of course!” Amy said as she pulled out a pile full of case files. She began going through each one, and Hermione was noticing a pattern.

“Gerteso doesn’t seem to hang on to each of these identities for very long. And he only stole a minimal amount from their bank accounts. Almost nothing to make it significant. Don’t typical identity theft cases open up multiple accounts and try to liquidate a person’s funds for their own gain?” Hermione asked Amy.

Amy pulled some of the files back and reviewed them. “Huh. You’re right. I’m not sure how we missed that before.” Amy looked a little more closely. “He even got a hold of their social security numbers, but never attempted anything with it. What do you think it could mean?”

Hermione furrowed her brow even more. “Is there any correlation between the victims?” She and Amy were reviewing the various cases. “The bank. It’s the same across all the cases!”

Amy grabbed some the files and cross referenced. “Ugh, this is the last time I trust Jake with the paperwork. How did he not catch this?! He really is normally better than this. Well, we’ve got a lead now! Charles, look.” Boyle came over when Amy called his name with Harry trailing behind him. 

“Whoa, Amy, Sterling National Bank? Do we know which one?” Boyles asked.

“It’s….the one two blocks from here!” Amy said looking at Boyle.

“Jason and I can go check it out. See if any of the tellers or the guards noticed anything off.”

“Great, Charlotte and I will comb through these to see if there’s any added correlation of when these took place,” Amy said, clearly throwing herself into work mode.

“Excellent! Jason, come with me,” Boyle said, grabbing his jacket. Harry looked at Hermione, making sure she was okay before following Boyle.

Amy and Hermione set to work, writing down the dates and ordering the case files by bank visit instead of the date they were filed with the precinct. “I can’t believe I didn’t think to do this to start with,” Amy said regretfully. “Captain Holt is going to be so upset with me. How could I let myself get so distracted lately?” She shook her head. 

“Um, is everything alright?” Hermione asked.

“What? Oh, yeah, it’s nothing. Just getting over a breakup that’s all.” Amy sighed.

“I’m sorry. Was it a bad one?” 

“No, no! It was actually needed. I just wasn’t into him at all..” Amy trailed off and glanced over at Jake’s empty desk. Hermione looked in the same direction to see what she was looking at. 

Maybe this is the perfect segue to ask about Jake; make sure Ron’s with a decent partner, she thought. “So, tell me about Jake,” Hermione said, trying to change the subject away from her breakup.

“Jake? What do you want to know?” Amy asked a bit skittishly. She contemplated Charlotte for a moment before making the connection. “If you’re worried about Nolan, don’t be. Jake has an unconventional way of doing a lot of things, but he really is a brilliant detective! You can trust him. Are you and Nolan primary partners on the force?”

“You could say that,” Hermione said. “I just wasn’t sure how serious he was. I tend to worry a bit too much about things, I guess.”

“Me too, but I wouldn’t worry about that,” Amy smiled genuinely at her. “Shall we compare dates, see if we find anything?”

“Sure,” Hermione said, thinking how she really liked her new temporary partner. 

*********************

Harry and Charles checked not only the closest Sterling National Bank to the precinct, but also the other two nearby, to no avail.

“I don’t get it!” Charles said with a disappointed look on his face. “Three banks, and nothing out of the ordinary was seen. Either Gerteso has several accomplices, or he’s incredibly good at disguises.”

That got Harry thinking: the likelihood of an invisibility cloak was slim, but disillusionment charms weren’t unheard of. It wouldn’t be the first time he and Ron had dealt with an elusive criminal because of them. But he couldn’t give that away yet to Boyle. “I doubt he’s got several accomplices. From what we’ve seen, he works alone. You might be onto the disguise thing, though,” Harry told him.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t bring us any closer to catching this guy. It’s like one step forward and two steps back the entire case!” Boyle sighed in frustration. He put the keys in the ignition and began heading back to the precinct. “Amy’s not going to be happy about another deadend. Hopefully Jake can get something., or Rosa on surveillance duty”

“Let’s hope,” Harry agreed.

“Tell me about Nolan,” Boyle changed the conversation abruptly.

“What about him?”  Harry asked, watching Boyle’s body language carefully. He seemed protective and...slightly jealous? 

“Well, we protect our own, not that you and Nolan and Charlotte aren’t welcome or anything. Jake’s my best friend. I would never let anything happen to him in the field, so I want to make sure Nolan will have his back like I would.” Boyle was definitely posturing, and that amused Harry, but also concerned him. 

Was he a bad friend for not worrying about Ron in the same way? He shook the thought from his head. No, he just knew his friendship with Ron was stable. Plus, he was a brilliant auror that could hold his own in any situation, so he told Boyle as much.

“Nolan’s a solid guy. You won’t find a better, er, detective. He’s my best mate. Been by my side since we were eleven, so he’s loyal to a fault. No need to worry with him.”

“Good...good.” Boyle said nodding as they pulled up to the precinct. 

Ironically, they pulled in at about the same time Jake and Ron had also returned.

“Jake!” Boyle said, “Any luck? We hit another dead end, but maybe Amy and Charlotte made another break in the case upstairs.”

“We’ve got something, that’s for sure,” Ron muttered as Jake had that giddy look about him.

“Uh, Jake? Buddy? Where’d you guys go, you’ve got that look about you when you...” Charles said and then gave Ron and Harry looks. “Who’d you guys see?”

“Charles, it’s fine! We went to see Doug Judy. Let’s go upstairs and we’ll discuss more,” Jake clarified.

Charles looked affronted. “Jake! I should have known! You’ve never been able to pull away from his charm.” 

**************

“Good, you’re all back,” Captain Holt said. He came out of his office as the elevator dinged, and Jake, Charles, Harry and Ron walked out. “Everyone in the briefing room for an update.”

Once they’d all filed in, Captain Holt started by asking Amy and Hermione to start. “Santiago?”

“Charlotte and I went over the case files of the identity thefts again, and Charlotte found a pattern in the thefts.” Amy looked at Hermione to continue.

“Yes, it appears that even though all aspects of each victim’s identity were stolen, the only thing that was done as a result was stealing a minimal amount out of their bank accounts. No new credit cards, no major purchases, nothing of the sort,” Hermione went on. 

“All of the stolen money has come from accounts at Sterling National Bank. We reordered the case files based on when the money was taken, and Boyle and Cooper went to investigate,” Amy finished.

“Yeah, but unfortunately we didn’t get any new information. None of the tellers or the guards noticed the same person coming in or out to line up with the thefts,” Boyle reported.

“We even checked the other two banks in the area with no luck,” Harry added.

Holt nodded. “Peralta, any news from your informant?”

“Yeah, he said Gertie’s got a few hideouts around Brooklyn, not that he knew where, but he’s definitely working alone. He said his main target is the Woolworth building in Manhattan, but didn’t know when or why.”

Holt nodded his head and pursed his lips. “Diaz? Anything from your angle?”

“Nothing on the surveillance videos today, but if his target’s in Manhattan, I’ll widen the search tomorrow to some of those hole in the wall shops.”

“Well, it’s more than we had this morning. You’re all dismissed for the night. See you in the morning,” Captain Holt said as he walked out.

“Does anyone else feel like we’re no closer than we were when we started?” Diaz asked, as everyone nodded.

As they filed out back to their desks to grab their things, Jake asked Nolan, “So about tonight. Still on for Die Hard?”

Charles heard and immediately chimed in before Ron could answer. “Did I hear Jake suggest a bonding night? I’d watch Die Hard!” he said eagerly.

Rosa sniggered, “Come on, Charles, really? You jealous of Nolan?”

“What? No, of course not, Rosa!” Charles said as Harry tried to stifle his own laugh. “I just thought this would be a fun way to get to know our new partners,” he forged on. “Order some New York pizza, pick up some beer and just hang out.”

Amy piped up, “Actually, Charles has a point. What do you say, Jake?”

“I mean, sure, as long as we get to still watch Die Hard. But my apartment isn’t big enough for all of us…”

“You could come to our place. The, er, NYPD put us up in a two bedroom flat a few blocks from here. We’ve got plenty of space,” Ron offered.

Harry and Hermione looked at him in surprise. Jake, Amy and Charles all nodded in agreement. They all looked at Rosa, who reluctantly agreed.

“How does seven sound?” Ron asked as he scribbled down the address for them.

“I’ll bring the beer,” said Jake. 

“And I’ll get the pizza,” Boyle added.

“Charles, don’t order any of that weird shit you write about on your blog,” Rosa pointed out. “Better yet, I’ll order it, you pick me up at 6:30, and we’ll go together.”

“You don’t trust me?” Boyle asked as Rosa gave him a ‘are you really surprised’ look. “Okay, fair enough.

“I’ll bring some wine and snacks,” Amy said. “See you all tonight!”

Chapter 4 can be found here :)

[potterology]

hi been following you and only realized that you like kdramas too, any recs?

omg hello hello!! this is weird I haven't gotten an ask in years lol anyways I've watched kdramas on and off for a long time so here’s a list of old/new shows that are memorable to me in no particular order~~~

1) do you like brahms?- man oh man as an introvert, this drama just slapped me with all the relatability. It has the perfect balance of melo, angst, and swoon. 10/10 would watch again just to see my bbies Kim min jae and Park Eun Bin get all heart eyes for each other :’) 

2) coffee prince- a true classic- u simply can’t call yourself a kdrama fan if u haven’t watched this one

3) misaeng- if u want fluffy, don't watch this lol it’s v realistic and painful but like..in a good way, highly recommend- acting and character development is top notch

4) because this is my first life- so so so good! one of the few dramas out there that actually do justice to both the main couple & it’s side characters!!

5) crash landing on you- I binged watch this in like a day and thank god that I started it when all the eps came out bc I would have prob dropped it since the later eps get kinda ridiculous tbh. regardless, u get chemistry! wonderful ost! hyun bin! Switzerland landscape! all chef’s kiss!!

5) reply series- I didn’t watch the second season, but the first and third are wonderful (even if my otp didn't make it in the third season.. still not over it)

6) hospital playlist- v wholesome. great friendship, fucking hilarious, ost is amazing. just an overall good show to watch

7) the secret life of my secretary- this came out like a year ago and had a bunch of ridiculous kdrama tropes which normally would make me drop a show BUT the actors had top notch chemistry and it just somehow worked. v fluffy and cute

8) my girl- I think this might be one of the first dramas I watched like waaayyy back so it’s very close to my heart. loved Lee Dong wook ever since hehehee

9) Scarlett heart ryeo- If u like to suffer like me, watch this. V painful. Don't get attached to any characters- that’s all I gotta say about this one

10) Gangnam beauty- real good, shows the crazy side of unattainable beauty standards and expectations for women in Korea (and honestly everywhere else) also if you like dramas where the male lead is just oh so smitten for the girl- this one is for u

11) extraordinary you- I recently just watched this as my “distraction drama” while waiting for new dylb episodes but ended up binging anyways bc its so funny and cute??? Like I love how they make fun of drama tropes so much it’s literally such a fresh plot line and the actress is great!! I feel like it’s hard to pull off her character but she balanced the aegyo/ bubblehead/ sympathetic character so well that it didn’t come off as annoying. V recommended

12) the idle mermaid- okay so from what I remember they cancelled this one so the ending was v abrupt but this drama was actually so good during its run!! I’m still pissed the episodes were cut down bc the storyline literally went from 0-100 real quick- but not in a good storytelling way lol. it had so much potential but I don’t think it got enough views or something so tvn said bye byeeee

13) suspicious partner- this is prob the only one on this list that I truly loved in the first half but dropped by like ep 14?? ji chang wook and nam ji hyun’s chemistry was simply radiating off the screen but the story line just kinda got mehhh by the end for me tbh and I ended up reading the recaps to see what happened in the end...I watched this as the episodes were coming out so if I was able to binge watch I would have prob finished it. regardless, the first 3/4 of this drama is truly superb, thus I’m gonna add it on the list

UPDATE: 2020 got me quarantined and watching so much kdramas- here’s more

14) Uncanny Counter- no romantic plot but my god this show is so good and action packed and heartwarming

15) Into the Ring- I did not hear about this drama at all when it was airing which is such a shame!!!! I saw a YouTube fan made video of it and got curious and my god this show is so fuckin good!!! The balance of comedy, politics and romance was superb. Gong and Sera are prob one of the best romantic couples in kdrama land. They got together pretty early to kdrama standards and normally you’d expect there to be a subplot where they’d break up or some shit but the writers said nah and we luv to see it :)) so many small intimate and mundane moments between our couple making my heart melt and all. If u like soft bois this one is for you!!!! Want a gong myself :’)

I got lots more so will update this post as I go but those are just ones I can name at the top of my head right now!!!

[artificialqueens]

Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, 11 (Branjie) (and background everyone) - Ortega

a/n: omg HI u lovely lot i’m so sorry this update took so long!!! thank you all so much for your lovely feedback on the last chapter and for being so patient with me. hope this chapter’s worth the wait- it’s BLACKPOOL BABEYYYYY!!! will Vanessa and Brooke get that perfect score???

fic summary: Strictly Come Dancing enters its 18th series and its producers, after being goaded by a rival dance show on its inclusivity, commission it to be an all-female cast. Unlike Akeria who’s just here to bone her potential dance partner, dancer Vanessa is ready to act like a professional.

And then TV presenter Brooke Lynn walks into the rehearsal room.

***

21st November 2020

“Someone was havin’ some nasty-ass sex this mornin’.”

Vanessa watches Crystal almost spit out the water she’s currently glugging down after their full cast dress rehearsal. If she hadn’t just finished her own bottle Vanessa would’ve probably done the same. Akeria’s comment is casual but Vanessa knows her enough to work out its intentions; she wants to know who’s banging, specifically who did so in the last eight hours.

Crossing her legs, Vanessa thinks back to the day she’s spent with Brooke Lynn so far. Obviously the events of the morning are still playing on her mind, fresh and still searing hot like lava. But after that it was almost as if they had been on another date. They’d headed out into the crisp, bright morning and grabbed breakfast at a nearby cafe, where the tables were sticky and the menus were stained and the ketchup bottle had rings of old sauce around the outside. They had both ordered matching fry-ups and Brooke had tried black pudding for the first time, claiming it didn’t taste as bad as it looked.

“If we get picked for the tour just wait. I’m gonna make you try haggis when we get to Glasgow. It’s fuckin’ horrible,” Vanessa had teased her, Brooke fake-gagging and making her laugh.

Then they’d had a walk along the beach, the cold stinging their faces and the wind whipping at their hair and making Vanessa wish they could just hold hands without the fear of being caught by someone videoing them on their phone. It had still been nice to share it with Brooke, though, and before they’d had to be at rehearsals they’d gone to the arcade and played on the penny falls machines, Vanessa laughing at Brooke as she got way too excited because “it’s like real life Tipping Point!”.

And now Brooke is sitting beside her, calm and composed as Akeria brings up the sex that Vanessa is still recovering from which was apparently so noisy and loud that it managed to wake her up.

“I didn’t hear anything,” Gigi says all too quickly, which piques Vanessa’s interest and makes her wonder why she’s so quick to rush to denial.

“Nope. Neither,” Jan shakes her head, the clear attempt to make her face look impassive not fooling Vanessa in the slightest. Narrowing her eyes, Vanessa casts an eye over a guilty-faced Monique and Monet.

She’s starting to question whether or not she and Brooke were the only ones that got some action this morning.

Brooke herself has got a small smirk on her lips as she opens her mouth to speak. “How did you guys not hear that? It was so loud. Sounded like somebody having the best sex of their life.”

Vanessa almost chokes on her own tongue in her desperate attempt not to react. Akeria is nodding emphatically.

“This morning? I must’ve been out for my run,” Jackie shrugs nonchalantly. She’s got the best poker face out of them all.

“It was somebody really whiny,” Brooke adds casually. Vanessa slowly turns her head and narrows her eyes at her. Brooke raises her eyebrows, tilts her head innocently. “You hear it, ‘Ness?”

Vanessa kind of wants to melt because she that’s how she feels every time Brooke calls her that and she loves it, but also she’s winding her up too much and Brooke must know Vanessa wants to clap back about how Brooke wasn’t complaining at the time, or how whiny she’d been when Vanessa had been teasing her with her fingers and whispering in her ear.

“Jeez, I mean, I must’ve been in the shower.”

“No, I think you would’ve been able to hear it.”

“What name’d they call out?” Asia shrugs. Brooke’s reaction is visceral- Vanessa watches her give a sort of panicked cough.

“What?”

“Well. You girls hear ‘em yell a name? That’ll give a lot away.”

Most of the girls are silent and holding their breath. Crystal, Gigi, Jan, Jackie, Monet, Monique, Vanessa, each one hoping their own worst or best-kept-secret isn’t spilled. Even Brooke who was gleefully winding Vanessa up moments ago has fallen mute and is looking at Akeria quietly. Vanessa’s brain is flicking through a rolodex of snapshots of the morning she and Brooke shared, trying to pinpoint any specific moment where either of them had begged the other just a little too loudly.

Akeria, for her part, gives a sniff and a shrug. “Hmm. Nah. Just moaning.”

“Well whoever it was, I hope they had some lovely sex,” Crystal babbles, her face guilty as sin as she finishes buckling up her dance shoes. She’s laughing nervously as she desperately tries to move the conversation along. “God, when will this band be ready? Like, how long does it take to tune a trumpet? Right?!”

Monique enthusiastically jumps in and agrees, and the conversation is dropped. Although Vanessa still tilts her head at Brooke questioningly and, as the girls become embroiled in a new conversation, she leans into Brooke’s side and whispers to her.

“If you think I ain’t gonna make you pay for that later, you’re wrong,” she murmurs, keeping her eyes trained on the other girls.

“Cute that you think you’re going to make me pay for anything, it took me what, two minutes to make you crack?” Brooke replies, and Vanessa can hear the smile in her voice. Vanessa, once again, can’t resist (it’s becoming a theme) and she turns her head to meet Brooke’s eyes, the twinkle in them still sparkling relentlessly.

“Whiny? Really, bitch?”

Brooke tips her head back casually. “I know we’re dancing to Let’s Get Loud but you know that’s just a song title, not an instruction, right?”

Vanessa tries to stifle a giggle, attempting to maintain her unimpressed charade. When Brooke looks at her again the endeavour fails, and they both end up laughing together. As their laughter dies down, Brooke sighs and Vanessa watches her pick a little at her outfit. They’re both in co-ordinated showgirl costumes- Vanessa’s green, Brooke’s pink- and even though Brooke objectively looks incredible Vanessa can tell she doesn’t feel entirely comfortable.

“Hey. You good?”

Brooke sighs. “This is just very…out of my comfort zone. I’m a TV presenter, God, I’m pretty sure the BBC would rather I was just a floating head half the time. No limbs, no boobs, no butt, no skin. Maybe a skeleton, actually. I’m just not used to getting my legs out. Or…anything out, really.”

Vanessa feels herself frowning in concern, a little embarrassed at how quickly she rushes to boost Brooke’s confidence. “Hey, listen. If you don’t feel like you’re fuckin’ sex on legs after this morning- shit, scratch that, every damn day- then I’m not doin’ my job right. You look perfect.”

Under the orange lights of the ballroom and the sparkle of the glitterball Vanessa swears she sees Brooke blush a little. She smiles and touches Vanessa’s arm gently. “Remind me what I did to deserve you?”

“Nothin’, you just ran off with my heart on that induction day an’ never gave it back,” Vanessa sticks her tongue out at her. Brooke grins and Vanessa wants nothing more than to lean in and kiss her right there and then, in fact she swears that Brooke’s edging closer to her and maybe they could just give each other a small kiss, maybe everyone else would be too distracted, maybe-

“And here we have one couple who keeps saying that they’re Definitely Not Romantically Involved With Each Other At All,” comes a voice, and Vanessa realises who it is as Yvie sits herself down on the chair beside her, filming a video on her phone. Vanessa covers her face in embarrassment.

“Delete that,” Brooke says, and just by her tone Vanessa can tell she’s rolling her eyes.

“Why? Too on the nose?” Yvie laughs, and as Vanessa looks up again she can see Brooke fixing her with an unimpressed glare. Yvie sighs, sulks and stops filming. “Fine! Fine, God. But you know if you had nothing to hide, you wouldn’t want me to delete it.”

“Listen, you just think everybody is as loved up as you are because you’re so happy with Scarlet. How is she, by the way? She coming up to watch you or has she got filming?”

Vanessa relaxes, impressed with Brooke’s ability to steer the conversation off course as Yvie is happily distracted by talking about her girlfriend. While Yvie speaks about Scarlet and gushes about how amazing she is and how lucky she feels to be with her and how she never thought she’d find a girlfriend through a TV dance show, Brooke makes sure to bump her knee a little bit against Vanessa’s with each new compliment, a little gesture that speaks so many words without Brooke having to say anything at all and lights Vanessa up from the inside out, so much so that she feels like the glitterball hanging from the ceiling, sparkling and dazzling.

Rehearsals soon end and the girls all move into the green room backstage to chat about nothing in particular, laugh at the top of their lungs like teenagers at the back of a bus, and eat tiny amounts of pizza that they’ll finish after their performance when it’s cold. Vanessa’s heart is so full she feels as if it might burst because she’s here, she gets to dance in the tower ballroom on the biggest TV dance show in the country. Okay, she’s danced here before- for competitions and showcases- but tonight she’s getting to do it with Brooke. Vanessa feels silly for having that mean so much to her. They’ve only been seeing each other for about a fortnight and she shouldn’t feel this deeply, but every time she tries to self-regulate and pull her feelings back Brooke ruins her plans with a smile, or a burst of laughter, or a squeeze of her shoulder or her leg that turns Vanessa to jelly and puts her right back in her feelings again.

Again. As if she could ever possibly be out of them when she’s with Brooke.

It’s not long until the audience all file into their seats and the ballroom lights go down, and Vanessa’s heart is almost beating out of her chest as Brooke gives her a quick kiss on the cheek for luck in the dark of the heavy curtains backstage. As she makes her way to the middle of the dancefloor with the other pros ready to begin their dance, Vanessa can’t even bring herself to wonder if anyone saw the moment they’d just shared because under the hot yellow lights and the huge glittering orb hanging from the ceiling and surrounded by the ornate gold that seemed to decorate every inch of the ballroom, Vanessa simply feels giddy and light just like any other infatuated girl.

“Live from the Tower Ballroom…this is Strictly Come Dancing!”

The music from the band blares, the audience breaks out in cheers, and even though she’s in Blackpool Vanessa feels as if she’s home. The pro dance this week is full of joy and sparkle, and as she dances Vanessa’s smile reflects on the faces of the five other girls she’s dancing with. It’s not her performance smile, nor is it a fake one; her face is radiating genuine joy, sunbeams that she hopes light up even the living rooms of whoever’s watching. When Brooke and the other celebrities join them for the last part of their dance Vanessa gravitates towards her and they snap together in hold. She can feel the excitement pulsing through Brooke’s veins as she takes her hand, and they’re smiling at each other with such ferocity that they end up giggling for the last section of the dance. On the final beat of the song they all freeze together, and Vanessa rests her head on Brooke’s chest as she relaxes. There’s golden confetti raining down on them and a little piece nestles itself in Brooke’s blonde locks of hair that Vanessa never wants her to brush out.

“Blackpool,” she hears Brooke murmur above her, so nearly inaudible she’s panting so much.

Vanessa looks up at her, cheeks hurting from her grin. “Blackpool.”

The girls all run off to get changed into their individual dance costumes they had worn before. Vanessa is glad that Brooke seems a little more confident in her outfit; she doesn’t know whether her new-found self-assuredness is down to Vanessa’s pep talk earlier or the adrenaline rush of performing, but she’ll take happy Brooke over nervous Brooke whatever the reason. Brooke looks the best out of all the girls- okay, Vanessa knows she’s biased, and in fairness everyone looks amazing. Crystal and Gigi are done up as little astronauts for their Salsa to Cosmic Girl, huge perspex space helmets over their heads with their faces covered in glittery highlight and little stars. Asia and Akeria look like early 00’s girlband members in matching green camouflage cargo pants and black bodysuits. They’re doing some sort of cool thing with aerosol cans for their Commercial dance to Scandalous and Vanessa’s promised Kiki that she’ll get into a good position in the auditorium to watch them both.

Although as everybody begins to dance, Vanessa slowly becomes less excited and more nervous. She mentally repeats each couple’s score in her head like some sort of meditational mantra- Yvie and Jaida 29, Akeria and Asia 37, Jan and Jackie 36. They range from unthreatening to panic-inducing, and as she and Brooke make their way backstage while Crystal and Gigi’s VT plays, Vanessa can feel the anxiety climbing in her throat, can feel her feet shaking in her shoes with every step.

“Hey,” Brooke stops suddenly in the darkness, her tone concerned and a little worried frown set on her face. “I can feel you worrying. What’s the matter?”

Brooke is beginning to thread her hand in Vanessa’s own, and she accepts. She already feels it grounding her, but her breathing is still shallow and her stomach is still in knots. “Just these scores…fuck, Brooke Lynn, I want us to be on top so bad. I want you to be on top so bad.”

“Yeah, you seemed to like it earlier,” Brooke winks at her, as Vanessa instantly realises what she’s said. She splutters a laugh, clamps her hand over her mouth in case they’re picked up over the microphones even though Vanessa knows there’s no way they could be. Brooke’s smile softens as she takes Vanessa’s other hand, swings them a little.

“Look. Do I care about being top of the leaderboard? Sure! But this, this whole thing has become less about the competition for me and more about getting to dance with you every week. Knowing we can go out there and be amazing no matter what the judges say, knowing I can showcase your amazing choreo and bring it to life, and being able to show you off and watch you be talented and incredible and clever. If we get the scores, we get the scores. But even if we don’t I want you to know that there’s nobody else I’d rather dance with, nobody else I’d rather be sharing this journey with. You’ve made it so special for me just because you’re you.”

Vanessa feels herself lean into Brooke’s touch as she takes a little curl that’s framing her face and tucks it behind her ear. She can feel something tumble and fall gently inside her- maybe she’s developing more feelings or maybe it’s a barrier breaking, she doesn’t know- and in that moment she throws caution to the wind and pulls Brooke in, their lips meeting softly as Crystal and Gigi start their dance through the curtain beside them. Vanessa’s heart thuds in her ribcage as she thinks about the fact that that’s all that’s separating them from the ballroom and the cameras and the millions of viewers. If the curtain were to fall…

She melts into the kiss and she can feel her anxieties melting away; Brooke is a gentle wave on the shore and Vanessa is sand and the occasional broken piece of shell, shifting under her and allowing herself to be drawn in. As Brooke pulls away Vanessa pouts her lips in disappointment, so Brooke gives her one, two, three little pecks before stepping back for good this time.

“Better?”

Vanessa can feel her pulse racing, but this time it’s excited nerves rather than anxious ones. She fixes Brooke with a little smile. “Yeah. Better.”

“Okay. That being said, let’s go get that top spot.”

The audience cheer Crystal and Gigi, and Vanessa’s skin prickles as she realises she and Brooke Lynn are dancing soon. They make their way to the wings where they’re met by a runner who eventually shows them out onto the floor. Vanessa takes a deep breath in her spot on the lacquered wood underneath a spotlight. She looks over to Brooke who’s on a little plinth, all lit up with a wall of halogen bulbs behind her, and gives her a little wink and a thumbs up. Brooke looks just as nervous as she is, but the smile she gives Vanessa goes some way to reassure her.

And then, a few seconds which feel like minutes later, the commentator’s voice booms overhead.

“Dancing the Cha Cha Cha…Brooke Lynn Hytes and Vanessa Mateo!”

The halogen lights behind Brooke blind Vanessa as she looks at her, suddenly confident and poised, a huge smile on her face on the stage. She looks like a real professional. Fuck, Vanessa’s so proud of her.

“Blackpool!” Brooke yells as loud as she can. “Let’s…get…loud!”

Pyro goes off behind the wall of light as the music starts, and the audience screeches as Brooke descends the stairs and practically runs to Vanessa, holding her hands tightly as they start their dance with matching smiles on their faces. A cha cha cha is a technical one, all about the footwork and arms, and they can’t really hide behind their obvious chemistry this time. But they’ve worked hard, so fucking hard, and Brooke can do it without a single mistake, Vanessa knows this.

Vanessa jumps up into a lift, Brooke holding her in her arms and spinning her round and making her giggle involuntarily. Maybe Brooke is right, Vanessa thinks, as she is gently deposited down and they jump back in hold again. Maybe none of this matters any more; the competition, the scores, the TV show. Maybe all this has to be is Vanessa dancing with Brooke and having fun, the pair of them growing closer with every passing second, and Vanessa coming dangerously close to falling for someone again with every passing day.

As Brooke faces forward and Vanessa does the same, then drops to the floor and wiggles her way up Brooke’s legs, it also occurs to her that it could also be about the great fucking sex they’re having. Well, have had. But Vanessa knows there’ll be another time, maybe probably very soon judging from the way Brooke’s now gliding her hands down Vanessa’s body.

She can’t let her concentration wander, however, so Vanessa’s brain is back in the game as they step, twirl each other round, Brooke dips her confidently before they go back to stepping quickly again, twirling effortlessly into a New York. As the horn section from the band blasts, Vanessa gauges the audience reaction. They’re cheering and clapping along and the judges are leaning forward, engaged and impressed. Even Bianca’s got a little smile on her face. In spite of everything, Vanessa feels her heart begin to rise.

“Ain’t nobody gotta tell ya what you gotta do…”

As the song ends, Vanessa holds Brooke’s hand as they whip out their final party piece- Brooke drops to the floor in an effortless split, and the crowd raises the roof. Shangela is screaming from her position behind the judges’ table and Brooke is screaming too as she swings her legs round and stands up, crushes Vanessa in a hug who’s already got her own arms out waiting for it. Vanessa mutters praise into Brooke’s chest and she can feel her planting a kiss to the top of her head in response, their little tradition that she’s glad Brooke hasn’t stopped.

As they cross over to Michelle Vanessa is grateful that Brooke is carrying the interview, as she can hardly speak out of her own gripping nerves. She knows that dance went well, she knows it’s the best they’ve ever done it. So when Michelle hands over to Shangela, Vanessa isn’t sure that she breathes for roughly ten seconds.

“I…thought…” Shangela starts, and Vanessa’s lungs almost give out. “…that that was the best we’ve ever seen you dance, Brooke Lynn.”

The audience erupts and Vanessa looks up at Brooke and beams, squeezing her tightly and refusing to let go. Brooke’s eyes are still on the judges as Shangela’s compliments continue. “Your footwork and your synchronicity with Vanessa…it was all just so, so polished, I mean a lot of celebrities when they come on this show, they can find the syncopation really difficult and you just- I mean it was like asking you to count to ten! You had a great night tonight, well done.”

The audience cheer her comments, and then it’s Kennedy’s turn to give her feedback.

“Yeah, I agree with Shangela. You are at your peak in this competition, and that was your best night yet. That was absolutely flawless, I just…I don’t have anything left to say at this point.”

Vanessa’s breath is heavy and laboured, trying to calm her rising hopes at all this praise Brooke is receiving. After Kennedy is Laganja, and she’s practically on top of the table as she yells about the pair of them, how much chemistry they have and how faultless Brooke’s performance was and how their Cuban breaks were perfection incarnate.

“And if this doesn’t get the score it should-” she finishes, shooting Vanessa’s pulse through the roof with a catapult. “- then I’m leaving the show!”

As the audience laugh and applaud Laganja’s comments, Vanessa feels Brooke’s grip on her waist tighten as it reaches Bianca’s turn. The crowd is silent, and if Vanessa squints she can see Brooke’s rapid breathing beside her.

Come on…come on…

The whole room seems to hold its breath. Bianca’s face is impassive as she opens her mouth to speak. “I couldn’t fault that if I tried.”

Vanessa’s face drops in shock and she feels Brooke lurch beside her, the levels of praise they’re receiving from Bianca Del Rio hardly registering. The audience is almost deafening at this point and Vanessa’s ears are straining to hear the rest of the judge’s comments.

“The Cha Cha Cha…I mean it’s a fun dance, it’s a cheeky dance, but it’s so rarely a showstopper, and that just stole the show. Shangela is right, there are so many things that meant you could’ve butchered that entire dance- hello, you’ve got one of the best Latin specialists in the country coaching you, hard not to be a little intimidated- but you took it all in your stride and it was like watching a fish swim, the effortlessness of it all. But one of the things I loved most about it all was just how much fun the pair of you were having. It was like neither of you seemed to realise that you were dancing in a competitive setting, and it felt as if we were all here to watch you on tour or something. Really well done tonight, Brooke Lynn, you did yourself proud.”

As the crowd claps for them both and Michelle sends them up to the Divinatorium, Vanessa clutches Brooke’s hand tightly. She sneaks a look at her as they run up the stairs and giggles as she finds Brooke’s eyes already on her. As Divina talks to them both and Vanessa feels Akeria squeeze her shoulder from behind her, she can barely concentrate on anything as her whole body vibrates in anticipation. Vanessa does manage to tune in, however, when she hears her name mentioned.

“Bianca did say it must’ve been intimidating for you to have Vanessa coaching you on a Cha Cha Cha- did you feel the pressure this week?” Divina asks Brooke, and Brooke just laughs, puts an arm around Vanessa’s waist and pulls her close.

“I mean there’s always that little bit of pressure when you’ve got someone like Vanessa coaching you, because she’s so talented and perfect at what she does,” Brooke smiles down at her, and Vanessa’s heart feels completely stuffed full of affection. “But she’s never intimidating, and she never puts pressure on me. In fact she puts way more pressure on herself, which she needs to stop doing, because look how well we both did tonight!”

Vanessa feels herself blush and all she can do is wrap another arm around Brooke’s waist as Divina continues to speak.

“Well, Brooke Lynn, I can confirm the judges’ scores are in. Let’s see what they thought.”

And then there’s the all-consuming feeling of holding her breath and gripping Brooke’s side as if she’s her lifeboat. Vanessa’s heart is just going and going and going because maybe, maybe, maybemaybemaybe…

“Will the judges please reveal their scores. Bianca Del Rio.”

“Ten.”

“Kennedy Davenport.”

“Ten!”

“Shangela Wadely.”

“It’s a ten!”

“Laganja Estranja.”

“TEN!”

They have done it. Forty out of forty.

Brooke has wrapped herself around her like an octopus with half its limbs cut off and is screaming in much the same matter. Vanessa can feel her nails dig into her back, a few tears drop down onto her shoulder and something inside her just breaks, and before she knows it she is simply holding Brooke and crying and Brooke is doing the exact same to her. The cheers from the other couples on the balcony turn into awws, and a box of tissues is shoved towards them. Vanessa soon realises that Divina is attempting to talk to her so she takes a tissue, sweeps it under both her eyes quickly.

“Sorry…that was a big reaction, it just meant a lot to the both of us. Brooke Lynn’s been working so hard every week so to get that sort of acknowledgement means the world to me. I just want everyone to think she’s as amazin’ as I do.”

As Divina reads out their voting details then signs them both off, everyone claps and Vanessa takes Brooke’s hand again. This time her grip is gentle as if Brooke will crumble apart on contact. When Brooke pulls her into her dressing room, there’s not the fire and heat that there had been last week; instead they hold each other softly, and Brooke rubs her back slowly while murmuring quiet, affectionate words into her hair in between pressing kisses to her forehead.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” she says after a pause, and Vanessa’s stomach does a bungee jump.

“Stop it,” she replies quietly, if only to deflect from the fact that she’s thinking the exact same thing about Brooke but doesn’t dare say it back; she’s scared to say it out loud because the last time she felt this way about someone it all ended up in heartbreak and hurt and mess.

“It’s true,” Brooke insists simply, but she doesn’t push it or overdo it- her statement is her statement, and Vanessa’s glad she’s letting it be.

The perfect score, being top of the leaderboard, everything Brooke’s said to her tonight- Vanessa’s on cloud nine. That is until the results show is filmed, and one of Vanessa’s worst fears about being on the show comes true.

“I can now reveal that the second couple in the dance-off and joining Yvie and Jaida are…”

Drum beat. Drum beat. Vanessa’s ribcage is tight and constricted, and she daren’t let herself relax even though their scores were so perfect, even though they did exactly what they’d set out to do because maybe their fans could get complacent, maybe they didn’t vote as much this week…

“Monet and Monique.”

Vanessa’s guts feel as if they’re plummeting to the floor. She breaks away from Brooke, cranes her neck and looks over at her friend whose spotlight has changed colour leaving both Monique and Monet bathed in a sickening red. Monique had told her their dance hadn’t gone great- they’d performed directly after her and Brooke, and the pressure of having to follow their perfect score had rattled Monet to the point where she’d made too many basic errors- but Vanessa didn’t for one second think they’d land in the bottom two. Monique catches her eye, gives her a helpless, sorrowful smile, and Vanessa feels her eyes fill with tears.

As the other dancers are led up to the Divinatorium to watch the couples, Vanessa and Akeria gravitate to each other like little magnets, take each other’s hands with grave faces and emotional eyes. Brooke rests a hand on her shoulder and leans down to whisper to her.

“It’ll be alright. Yvie got under 30, God love her. She’s great, but Monet’ll overshadow her. Monique isn’t out, don’t worry.”

Brooke can usually say all the right things to calm Vanessa down, but not this time. She, Akeria and Monique had been so excited the moment they found out they’d all have partners this year, and Vanessa remembers the drunken pact they’d made after the launch show that they’d be the last three standing in the competition, the best of the best. It had been a silly joke, but watching as Monique takes to the floor and holds Monet in her arms, it’s never meant so much to Vanessa to have her friend share this journey with her.

As the music begins and Vanessa watches Monet and Monique glide across the ballroom floor effortlessly as the sparkling glitterball casts its mirrors over their bodies, she feels Brooke wrap her arms around her from behind and rest her chin on her head. Without thinking they fall into a soft sway and even though Vanessa’s heart is still in her mouth- because the two girls can’t leave the competition yet, it’s not their time, and she, Monique and Akeria have to be in the final together- Brooke’s gentle rocking manages to ground her and calm her without her even having to say a single word. Vanessa thinks back to what she had said backstage, how much Brooke had completely lit up her heart, and she wonders if she truly meant it all. The song’s lyrics drift into Vanessa’s consciousness as she watches Monet lift Monique gently, spin her around like she’s the dancer twirling around in a music box.

“What you say you can’t take back, no takebacks, don’t take that back…‘cause your words mean the world to me…”

Vanessa feels like laughing. Ain’t that the truth.

Monet and Monique finish their dance well with only a couple of noticeable faults, and then Jaida and Yvie do their Tango once again. It wasn’t too strong the first time and the clear pressure that comes with being in the bottom doesn’t help Yvie, as she makes a few visible mistakes. If the judges have eyes, Vanessa knows they’ll save Monique and Monet. Then again…stranger things have happened on the show.

Michelle consoles both pairs as they take their places under another spotlight each on the dancefloor. Monique and Monet’s hands are joined together tightly, and Yvie has her arm around Jaida’s shoulders, a light smile of defeat on her lips as if she knows the result already.

“Judges, I am now going to ask for the name of the couple you want to save and take through to Musicals Week next week. Starting with Bianca.”

Bianca shuffles a few papers and fixes both couples with a calm stare that flips Vanessa’s internal organs. “Well Yvie, I think you’ll agree that there were a few mis-steps there that couldn’t really be ignored, and Monet, conversely, you managed to elevate your performance in the dance-off. So tonight, I’m saving Monet and Monique.”

Vanessa feels Akeria squeeze her hand, her grip damp from the nervous sweat on her palm.

“Shangela.”

Shangela frowns, a pained expression on her face. “I mean it’s hard, because both dances had some errors here and there. However I’m going to go with my gut and the person I think deserves to stay and improve is Yvie. So I’m saving Yvie and Jaida.”

Vanessa lets go of Akeria’s hand, brings both of her hands up to cup her cheeks and exhales heavily. As Kennedy is head judge her vote holds the most weight on the panel, and so Michelle next comes to Laganja.  

“Yes, as Shangela said, neither was a perfect dance. But I personally think one couple managed to improve on their initial performance, and so tonight I’m saving Monet and Monique.”

Brooke squeezes Vanessa’s waist and holds her tightly as finally, Kennedy makes to cast her vote. Vanessa feels ill. She can only imagine what’s going through Monique’s mind as she stands in her character shoes, gripping Monet’s hand with her gaze very firmly locked on the floor.

“For me…it comes down to the connection between one couple in particular, and the emotion and the storytelling behind their routine. The couple I’m saving…is Monet and Monique.”

Vanessa melts out of Brooke’s arms and instead turns to hug Akeria, holding her as tightly as she’s holding Vanessa back and feeling her heartbeat through her chest. Vanessa feels Brooke put a light hand between her shoulder blades reassuringly, and the double dose of human contact helps bring Vanessa right down to earth from the rafters her sky-high anxiety levels had perched her up in. When the show ends, Yvie and Jaida share one final dance, and the others are allowed to invade the dancefloor and say goodbye, it’s not the eliminated couple Vanessa runs to but her cherished friend instead. Akeria joins them and the three of them hold each other and shed tears, relief not even being able to cut it.

It’s Yvie’s idea to go for drinks after the show- she’s happy even though she’s been knocked out, though Vanessa thinks that’s got something to do with the fact Scarlet has travelled up to watch her after all. So it’s a pleasant feeling when Vanessa finds herself clambering off the emotional rollercoaster she’s been strapped into all night and instead beginning to take on a more mellow form of happiness induced by the three pornstar martinis she’s managed to knock back so far. Even though they arrived at short notice the dancers and celebrities have all managed to secure a huge booth near the back of Revolution, where it’s dark and private and everyone else is too glammed-up and full of flavoured shots to notice a huddle of TV personalities. Vanessa looks fondly over at Brooke who’s dancing with Yvie, Scarlet, Jaida and Jackie who collectively are making her wonder how they’ve managed to lose the co-ordination and grace they show on TV every Saturday. Gigi and Crystal are on the other side of the booth, sitting close and having what looks to be a deep, meaningful heart to heart, and Jan, Monet and Asia are nowhere to be seen (either smoking area or bathrooms is Vanessa’s best guess).

Vanessa cheers as Monique returns to the booth with Akeria, carrying a stick of shots and a huge fishbowl of purple liquid respectively. The pair of them squash themselves down beside Vanessa and they grab a shot class each, toasting to them all surviving another week in the competition.  

“I can’t lie, my heart was in my damn asshole when Michelle said your name,” Akeria points at Monique, her turn of phrase making Vanessa snort out half her drink.

“Excuse me! You were the one panicking? I was the one that had to dance the damn thing all over again!” Monique clutches at her chest incredulously. Vanessa wiggles her eyebrows at her friend.

“Well ain’t it lucky you and Monet have that connection that managed to save you.”

Akeria jumps on Monique’s bashful expression like a cat on a mouse. “Yeah, how’s that situation goin’? Seems okay by the looks of things.”

“We had a long chat on Tuesday,” Monique brushes a bit of hair out of her face and looks at her lap. “I was honest with my feelings and so was she. Turns out she actually really likes me back. Crazy, ain’t it? My actual real-life celebrity crush likes me like that.”

Vanessa and Akeria squeal excitedly, and Vanessa sips from the fishbowl as Akeria asks where this leaves them both.

“Well, we’re both just focussed on the competition just now. Need to beat both you bitches, don’t we?” Monique sticks her tongue out, tinged blue from all the cocktails she’s been drinking. “But we’ve been doin’ more cute stuff, not just all the nasty shit. She came round to mine the night before we got the train up here an’ we had some wine and watched a movie an’ just talked an’ cuddled.”

“Ugh, puke. I don’t know what’s worse, havin’ to hear about your rehearsal-room bangin’ or havin’ to hear about all the diabetes-inducing shit you do now you’re both all in your feels,” Akeria gags jokingly, and Vanessa chuckles as Monique pushes her friend, unimpressed. Suddenly, something seems to occur to Akeria. “So wait. Was it you two I heard this mornin’ then?”

Vanessa’s tipsy and she doesn’t want to keep Brooke a secret any longer, at least from her two best friends. So as Monique shakes her head, she grimaces and gives a slow shrug.

“Uh…I think I can answer that.”

Akeria blinks at her and Vanessa can practically see the cogs turning in her brain. Monique gets there first though, and she emits a high-pitched shriek that soars above the speakers and makes Gigi and Crystal jump about twenty feet in the air from across the booth. Vanessa frantically shushes her, and that’s when Akeria catches on.

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Lord Jesus. It was you an’ Brooke Lynn, wasn’t it? Tell me I’m right,” Akeria grabs Vanessa’s wrist, shaking her so excitedly and violently that even the table manages to shake too.

“You sorted your shit out? When?! Where is Jesus!” Monique squeaks at a pitch that, if Vanessa couldn’t make out herself, she would be convinced only dogs could hear.

“God, okay, it was after that night I came and stayed at yours. You know, when I kissed her and then she got weird with me and I told you both about it on the group chat,” Vanessa explains, starting from the very beginning. “Anyway it was that week we did the Argentine and it’s hard not to feel a way when you do that kinda dance, y’know? So it ended up happenin’ again an’ we actually talked this time. She told me she had this big crush on me, an’ obviously I felt the same. So…yeah. We’re…well, not together, but we’re a thing for sure.”

In the midst of Monique’s excited reaction, Akeria narrows her eyes. “What, when you did that Tango? Girl. That was what, a whole-ass week ago? More? Why’re we only just getting told about this?”

Vanessa pulls a face. “Well, we’re both trying to keep it low key. You know what happened with Kam, an’ I don’t wanna get too invested too fast. Plus if it gets into the papers…”

“That’s fair. Got it, girl. We’ll keep it all secret,” Akeria reassures her instantly, taking her hand and leaning into her side in her tipsy state. “This is dead cute, though. I’m happy for you, babe.”

Monique gasps in outrage. “Oh, so when Vanessa gets a girl it’s cute but when I get a girl you gag?”

“Yes. Because Vanessa don’t bang her girl on the rehearsal room floor,” Akeria frowns at her, and Vanessa explodes a laugh. She’s so full of love for her friends, and she’s beyond glad that tonight’s been her night. So when their song comes on over the speakers and Akeria starts yelling it out in her own off-key way, Vanessa drags them both up to join the clump of girls already on the dancefloor, and when she dances over to Brooke’s side she can’t help but feel a little warmth flow through her veins as Brooke’s vision sparkles at the sight of her.

They all end up dancing til closing time, and as they spill out onto the streets like the club has coughed them up Vanessa has to fight the drunken thoughts her mind is producing that are urging her to take Brooke’s hand on their walk back to the hotel. There could still be a camera anywhere, even at one in the morning, and Vanessa doesn’t want to risk the small beginnings of whatever it is she and Brooke are sharing.

Still, when they’re back in their hotel room they’re free to act as affectionately as they want, and Vanessa has never been more glad of the fact they’ve been given a double bed as they fall back against the mattress, giggling and kissing each other like the worst kind of honeymoon phase idiots the world has ever seen.

“Can’t be bothered to put m’ pyajamas on,” Brooke murmurs, her speech impeded by the espresso martinis she’s been drinking and the lethargy that’s rapidly taking over her. Vanessa laughs softly, turns over onto her side and tucks a strand of hair behind Brooke’s ear. Her lipstick is faded, one of her eyelashes is sticking up at the side, and there’s a little patch of smudged eyeliner at the corner of her eye, but Brooke’s still perfect to her.

“Jus’ sleep naked,” Vanessa says, attempting to sound seductive but getting betrayed by the yawn that escapes her mouth mid-sentence. Brooke laughs.

“You really know how to charm a woman into bed, Ms. Mateo,” she teases her, tapping her lightly on the nose with her finger. Vanessa bares her teeth at her, biting at the air and causing Brooke to dissolve into giggles.

“You’re a mess.”

“Hey, so are you!” Brooke laughs incredulously, and Vanessa has to concede. She watches as Brooke sighs wearily, sitting up against the pillows and pulling off her lashes one by one. Brooke leans over the side of the bed for the packet of makeup wipes in her bag and Vanessa can’t help but smack her butt that’s sticking in the air. Brooke responds by launching the makeup wipes at her, hitting her square in the face and causing the pair of them to burst out laughing again.

Vanessa takes out two wipes and hands one to Brooke, and somehow the pair of them end up taking each others’ makeup off, their hands swiping at each others’ faces haphazardly like faulty windscreen wipers on an old car.

“This is the worst facial I’ve ever had,” Vanessa jokes disdainfully, and Brooke waggles her eyebrows.

“I’ll give you a facial later.”

Vanessa snorts ungracefully as Brooke breaks out into a ridiculous grin and ends up with the makeup wipe in her mouth. “Shut the hell up!”

They eventually end up in their pyjamas, but not before Brooke gives Vanessa the world’s worst striptease (Brooke attempting to take her pants off but instead getting them caught around her ankles and falling onto the floor, rendering Vanessa incapable of speech during a laughing fit that lasts a solid five minutes). Vanessa’s not sure what time it is when they finally turn off the lights, get under the covers and sleepily wrap themselves around each other, but she knows it’s pitch black outside and the seagulls are silent and she can just about hear the waves crashing onto the beach if she listens hard enough.

She’s so busy trying to hear the sea against the shore that she doesn’t register Brooke is saying something until she hears the tailend of her sentence, only aware Brooke’s lips have been moving against her skin when they stop.

Vanessa stretches a little. “Hm?”

She feels herself melt as Brooke pulls her closer, hugs her tighter and shakes her head a little. “Doesn’t matter. Night, ‘Ness.”

“Night, Brooke Lynn.”

It’s only once Vanessa is ever so close to falling asleep that she feels as if something was missing, like she wanted to say something more- but the words elude her and she is too tired to think too much about it, so she lets herself be carried off to sleep in Brooke’s arms, comfortable and relaxed inside and out.

[imnotcameraready]

don’t tread on me

A/N: wow, i’m updating ANOTHER story? that’s not chivalry? amazing!!! 

anyway, this has been a very, very long time coming! i’m procrastinating on packing, but i’m super excited that you guys finally get to meet janus and remus in this au! they’re a real pair! 

WARNINGS: death/murder mention, alcohol mention, blackmailing, swearing/cursing, panicking, Logan Is A Serial Killer, blood mention (in a more medical sense) — if i forgot any, please let me know! 

Pairings: Logince, Demus/Dukeceit | mentions of: Moxiety, past Analogical 

Words: 3366

AO3 link!

masterpost to the serial killer logan au!

here we go! (fitting that the next side to get his own actual readmore cut off photo is logan, i love the nerd)

This couldn’t be real. 

Logan’s hands nursed the mug in front of him, watching the steam roll off in plentitudes. He had the offending letter in his breast pocket, inside his coat, and he could feel the sleekly folded pages press against his chest when he inhaled. 

It was a curious situation he’d found himself in. The first person to catch on to what he’s been doing wasn’t his boyfriend, wasn’t his ex-boyfriend detective, wasn’t even his ex-boyfriend detective’s new semi-boyfriend partner. And he could tell because, instead of being taken out in handcuffs, Logan had just received a personalized letter to his place of work with details about the latest killing, the statement that the sender knew that Logan was the culprit, and a meeting time and location. The letter was typewritten and then scanned again, to make it nigh impossible to find fingerprints or individualities in the writing, but he could definitely read it. Signed off by someone who called themselves “Deceit.”

And they were blackmailing him.

Logan took a sip of his coffee. No one he knew personally had the lack of morality to blackmail. Heck, even he didn’t, and he was a murderer. Talk about rudeness.

At least the meeting was to be quick. He checked his watch again — he’d arrived about half an hour before his meeting with the blackmailer for another meeting, with some journalist interviewing him about a research award. Roman’s brother was moving into town, was throwing a house warming party that they’d been invited to, and Logan didn’t want to miss getting to finally meet Roman’s only other living relative.

He always had quite the weirdest of stories to tell about this brother, Remus, and Roman seemed so ecstatic about him moving closer that Logan didn’t want to let him down. They had been going fairly steady for the past year and a half, with Roman somehow still unaware that Logan had committed ten murders. 

It would do well to continue laying low, after the most recent murder. Logan was a little sloppier, in a rush, trying to dispose of the body in a manner almost too crass for him. That was about four weeks ago. Of course, in Logan’s mind it was a messy endeavour, but even that would be too detailed for Virgil or Patton to trace. He was safe from them. 

Perhaps Roman would question the blood on his shirt, but he could always write it off with a story of how things broke in the lab. Those are some of Roman’s favorite stories. He was so interested in Logan’s work that it was easy enough to distract him from Logan’s other extracurriculars.

“Excuse me,” he overhears someone talking to the barista, while he sips his coffee, “Have you seen Doctor Logan Webster?”

“Janus Daniels?” he calls out to the man at the register.

They spin around, and grin upon locking eyes with Logan. This must be the journalist, then. They slink forward, a thick mustard scarf wrapped around their shoulders and atop their black trenchcoat. They’re wearing a bowler hat, too, which may fit with the weather, though not with the decade. 

Logan also notices the skin discoloration around this person’s left eye. Vitiligo, by the looks of it, all along the left side of their face. It’s juxtaposed by their dark hair and punctuated by the difference in color between their two eyes, one amber and one near white.

They offer out a yellow-gloved hand, which Logan takes, both shaking firmly and heartily. When they pull their hand back, they’re smiling. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, Dr. Webster,” they say, taking out a recorder from their jacket, “Hope the coffee’s not too cold.”

“It hasn’t been very long. And I’ve been examining notes, grading papers,” Logan tries to dissuade the journalist’s concerns, smiling back himself, maintaining a perfect, unreadable composure. He shouldn’t let his two worlds bleed into each other, after all.

Janus smiles back, and taps a pen into their notebook. They flip to another page, glance over something written, and then nod to the recorder. “May I record this interview?” they ask. 

Logan waves his hand. Standard procedure for a dual-consent state. “Yes.”

They press a button on the little box, and ask again. “Once more, on recording, may I record this interview?”

“Yes.”

It goes fairly quick after that. Logan had recently been part of a team of eight researchers, sending information back and forth regarding the clotting abilities of platelets. The end result had included information on how to use certain enzymes to signal to the platelets to clot over certain wounds. If these enzymes could be delivered outside of the bloodstream, then it may lead to a faster and cheaper way to produce certain medical products, even close wounds that would bleed out into fatalities. This would also have a higher success rate, considering the process relied heavily on the natural healing process. 

The interview lasts roughly forty minutes. It’s a perfect length, too, since Logan has to run from this immediately to wherever the blackmailer says to meet him. In the letter, he’d been told to await further instructions, but this journalist couldn’t have met him another time in the day. Of course, he could have turned Janus away, but there was no one else on the team that they’d gotten the chance to speak to. Ignoring them would have been setting them up for failure.

“Blood clotting,” Janus murmurs, “Can you think of any other practical applications to that?”

Logan shrugs. It’s a mundane question, too trivial for someone who had so narrowly missed a Nobel prize, but almost too large for an article meant for the general public. He knew the drill; he’d spoken to many reporters before. “Oh, if something like this were to be commercialized, then military-grade medical supplies could begin entering the consumer market. That would drastically change the household medical landscape as we know it.”

He checks his watch again, and sighs. If he leaves now, he might be able to make it back to his office to await further instructions. Janus must notice his discomfort, because they sign off on the recording, and then stow the device away.

Logan gives them a grateful look while he packs his notes back into his bag. “This has been a lovely interview, but I have a prior engagement for 2 p.m.,” he tries to explain.

Janus just watches him with a wry smile. They shrug, taking a sip of their coffee silently.

That’s when Logan’s blood begins to, no pun intended, run cold. What kind of expression is that?

“I don’t think you have to go anywhere, Doctor,” Janus’s voice is light as they take out a piece of paper from their other pocket, “We can have our little meeting here.”

They open the paper up before Logan, only to show the same letter he’d gotten in the mail days ago, only the original form. 

Logan scans it for a few seconds before slumping back into the chair. He’d been had. 

“....So. Janus. How did you figure it out?” he’s moved beyond these theatrics. So Janus, Deceit, had set up this whole interview. Was the article even real? Logan had indeed vetted the reporter, was sure that they were a journalist. That’s all any of their social medias focused on, anyway.

Janus shrugs, still smiling a little. “I can’t speak for all of my sources, but once I got the details, it wasn’t too hard,” they say, “Roman’s far too dramatic to be committing such a quiet act and the similarities are far too uncanny to be him. But someone with access to the equipment necessary to drain a body of blood, someone with experience in the field, well….”

This was infuriating. Logan hadn’t even assessed Janus thoroughly during the interview. They were just so unassuming. 

Was that how this a success? Logan had simply underestimated them? What else was he possibly overlooking, then. 

What was the purpose of all of this, too? Logan hadn’t done anything to Janus, not to his knowledge. Maybe they had a relation to one of Logan’s victims? That would be an incredible oversight on his part. But that still wouldn’t explain why they were resorting to blackmail above letting the authorities know.

“Don’t worry too hard. I’m certain your ex hasn’t figured out heads nor tails of the case yet,” Janus leans back and sets their gloved hands on the table, “And I don’t intend on letting him know. Virgil’s not stupid but he doesn’t have the evidence that I do.”

“How do you know about Virgil?” Logan’s mouth runs dry.

No one knew about Virgil. It had been so long since they’d broken up—that was all old news. 

But Janus just laughs, a soft, tinkling sound. “He’s the head detective on the case, anyone in the police department could have told you,” they wave their hand, as though this were a simple matter, something not worth scrutinizing. 

They don’t seem to think that them knowing Virgil is Logan’s ex is weird. That’s not on Logan’s social media, nor is it on Virgil’s, as few as he has. How the fuck did Janus figure that out?

For the first time in a long while, Logan has no idea what to do. His chest was clutching his heart so tight that it was difficult to breathe. 

There were so many questions. And Janus’s gaze, once amicable, now seemed to look deeper into Logan than any of his microscopes at his lab. What did Janus know? How much did he know? The letter was so vague, just a time and place and knowledge that Logan was the killer. This probably wasn’t even a confrontation, they probably just wanted to confirm that Logan was afraid, and he’d walked right into their trap. 

How stupid! He needed to be much more careful if individuals like this Deceit were figuring out who he was and what he was doing.

But time to cut to the chase. “Well, you know the facts. When are you planning to tell him?” Logan asks, prepared for the worst.

At that notion, though, Janus’s face scrunches up. “Me? Tell Virgil? God, no, you misunderstand,” Janus waves their hand, “Let me explain myself. I have a personal stake in your activities, Logan, and I simply wanted some reassurance that I and those around me will stay safe.”

That was. Very.

Once again, Logan was thrown for another loop. What the hell? Janus just wanted protection? “I assure you, I won’t target you or anyone you present to me,” Logan says, fighting to keep the anger out of his voice, “That’s an incredibly petty reason to be going to these lengths, though. If you know this much about me, as much as you’ve been alluding to, then you would know that I likely wouldn’t target you in the first place.”

Janus shrugs once again and that blank smile. This was a thick mystery. 

Logan leans forward, to ask another question, when someone’s loud voice entering the cafe makes him jump. Agh, he’s getting so paranoid now. He had to take a step back. 

“AYO!” the person shouts, “SNAKEY!”

And then the person bodyslams Janus. Logan jumps back in surprise, but Janus laughs warmly, reaching up and hugging the newcomer with one arm. 

“Hello, sweetheart,” they purr.

“What’s up, babe dot net,” the newcomer kisses Janus’s temple before pulling a chair from the empty table beside them and sitting right between Janus and Logan.

And then he looks at Logan, finally. He had shaggy brown hair with a few grey streaks through the front. His eyes were a glittering green, just like Roman. In fact, the person’s entire demeanor seemed uncannily like Roman’s, despite how he was clothed in a patched leather jacket and a green fishnet shirt. He also had a nose piercing, a lip piercing, an eyebrow piercing, and, from what Logan could see, six earrings. There was a curled mustache across his face, too, which added to Logan’s assessment that this man was, well. What was the best word. Weird?

He holds out a hand to Logan, grinning ear to ear. “Heya, Specs. You must be the Doc’. How’s the blood?”

Oh my God. Logan blinks, biting his tongue for a second as he takes the person’s hand and shakes. “Yes. My name is Logan. Nice to meet you.”

“Remus! A pleasure,” Remus sticks his tongue out and winks as they shake hands, “So you’re my lil’ brother’s bitch, eh?”

Holy fuck. There was absolutely no way. This wasn’t on any of Janus’s social medias, either. Logan had done as much of a background check as he could on the reporter, there weren’t—there wasn’t any indication—Roman hadn’t mentioned that his brother had a partner—

The cogs in Logan’s head were stopping. This was a ridiculous series of events, there was no way that this was happening. “Remus...Del Sol?” Logan asks. 

Remus giggles. Janus reaches an arm around his waist, pulling him closer to them, and Remus abides by snuggling his face into Janus’s neck and literally licking him. 

“Remus is my partner,” Janus says, and Logan can see, is absolutely infuriated by the level of shit-eating that Janus’s grin holds, “He was too excited to meet you, so he wanted to drop in on our interview.”

Oh my god, they had interviewed earlier. Yes. That was correct. Logan nods, though he can’t find his voice to say anything. Interview. Remus doesn’t know, then?

It seems that Remus doesn’t mind or doesn’t notice, which is good, at least. “I was just so excited to get to know my baby brother’s boytoy, you know? Though you’re definitely the braincell he’s missing, sheesh!” Remus cackles, and Janus chuckles warmly along with the joke, “You’re coming to tonight’s party, right? I’m buyin’ extra tequila for the drama queen.”

Logan nods. And that’s enough for Remus, it seems, because he laughs heartily and slaps Logan’s shoulder. 

But Logan still can’t get over the fact that his boyfriend’s twin brother’s partner is blackmailing him. I’m sorry, he really can’t. 

“Remus, darling, I’m going to leave you here for a second so I can take this,” Janus stares at their wrist, seemingly infatuated with their Apple watch. 

Remus patted Janus’ ass as they stand up and step out of the cafe. And then it’s just Remus and Logan. 

That’s more acceptable. Janus is such a wildcard, Logan doesn’t know what to do. Is he worried that Logan would kill Remus? What for? 

“So,” Logan blinks, focusing back on Remus, who watches him with a much harsher look, “You’re Logan.”

“....Yes,” is all he can say. There’s only so much Logan can take in a day.

“You think you’re good enough for my little baby prince.”

Ah. Was he getting the big brother talk? He thought they were twins. “Aren’t you and Roman the same age?” he asks. 

Remus leans forward, placing both of his hands on the table, squinting at Logan’s face. Up close, Logan can definitely smell the sweat wafting off of Remus. Good lord, did he bathe? His mustache was held up by some sort of grease, so it was clear that the man kept his appearance in check. His face, too, up close, was populated by a multitude of small scars. Remus points up at Logan with one finger, only a few inches from his actual face. 

“You hurt my little brother and I’ll have to kill you,” he says. 

Now that was laughable. Remus didn’t seem to be joking, considering how rigid his facial expression was, but Logan couldn’t really think about the possibility of someone killing him. He wasn’t worth killing, in any case. Up front, he was doing good by the world, researching ways to make life easier for those who needed it. And behind the scenes, he was keeping the city ever more clear of those who would break the safety of others. It wasn’t like he murdered just anyone, you know. 

Remus didn’t seem to be targeting him, too, over the whole murderer thing. He squints more at Logan—likely awaiting a response.

“I don’t intend on hurting him,” Logan keeps his voice as level as possible, “In fact, I love your brother very much. This past year and a half has been the best in my life.”

Remus squints even more. There’s no way that wasn’t an acceptable answer, though. Maybe he’s off-put by the rigidity that Logan himself is holding his person. He’s a little shaken still, but he manages a smile. 

At that, Remus raises an eyebrow, but he slowly sinks back down into his chair, slouching his back and throwing one arm over Janus’ vacant seat. He drums one hand’s fingers against the table, slow, in some sort of thought. 

“It better be. My brother’s a catch. The best boyfriend life coulda thrown at you,” he declares, and then he slaps his hand on the table, “I guess I’ll see how good of a boyfriend you are tonight then.”

Logan chuckles. “If you would like to gauge my abilities as a partner, then tonight is likely the best time,” he says. 

Going home will be nice. Roman has likely picked out an outfit already, maybe had moved on to an acceptable make up routine. 

“We’re gonna have to get you a keg stand, Doc Oc,” Remus snickers, hiding his mouth behind his hand. 

Logan doesn’t necessarily drink that much. He definitely doesn’t drink beer. A keg stand sounds quite out of the ordinary, too, for a house party. “Oh?”

“I gotta see how well you can suck!” Remus lets out a laugh, harsh and biting, and Logan deflates just a little.

Ah. Roman had warned that Remus was a little more outlandish. Perhaps this was simply an exposé. Good to be shocked now than in front of an audience, he supposed. 

Logan was saved from having to respond by Janus, who returned quickly. Remus lifts his arm for Janus to sit, but instead, Janus grabs him by the shoulder and tugs him up. 

“Logan,” they say, and Logan’s taken aback by how serious their tone is, in contrast to how controlled they sounded earlier. You know, during the blackmail.

“Yes?”

“You haven’t seen the university’s campus yet today, right?” 

What an odd question. Logan shakes his head; no reason to lie about something so easily provable. “No. Roman and I were together all day before I arrived here for our appointment,” buying housewarming gifts. Roman’s quite excited about the throw pillows and framed photos he arranged.

Janus gives him a hard look, motioning for all of them to leave, and Logan doesn’t think twice. He picks up his bag, sets down some cash as a tip, and follows Remus out. The sudden movement and the urgency of such felt like it deserved explanation, though. “Why?” 

Janus looks back at him, over their shoulder, and sets their hat back atop their head. “You should go home and check in with the university’s administration,” they say, and Logan notes how that doesn’t answer the question in the fucking slightest. 

“Work?” Remus asks. 

It sounds like he might know a little more than Logan. Remus wraps an arm around Janus’ waist and kisses their cheek quickly. “I’ll see you later tonight, babe, you be safe! There’s a killer on the loose!” he shoots Logan and Janus both finger guns, and then flips them both off. 

While Remus grabs a motorcycle—of course he rides a motorcycle, he seems the type, how are he and Roman related?!—Janus turns back to Logan. Their jaw is set and, for the first time during this whole visit, Logan can sense a bit of fear. 

“You weren’t at the university. Right?” they ask.

Logan shakes his head. “I wasn’t. The last time I was on campus was yesterday,” he says.

The repetition of the question is worrying. He doesn’t know what might have happened. Was there an accident? 

Janus exhales, looking around to make sure no one’s near them, before leaning in just a little more. “A body was found in the chemistry building. Poisoned.”

taglists!

General: @jemthebookworm​ @okay-finne​

Serial Killer Logan AU: @theunoriginaldaisy​

[ghoulciifer]

submission:

@joonzreina: “hi tum, how are you?!. i wanna congratulate you on your 100 milestone!. keep up the good work!. if you don’t mind, may i please request a matchup with the hq boys only please?. i am she/her, straight, latina, and 5”0. i have light brown eyes, long dark curly brown hair, and curly bangs. my personality is described as wild, crazy, hilarious, hot tempered, blunt, sarcastic, brave, loyal, and kindhearted. i only have a 3 best friends that are like family to me. i will stand up for myself and them no matter what!. i’m a leader too. my hobbies consists of me watching anime, kdramas,/netflix, sleeping, eating, reading manga,webtoons, and astrology. i am a huge believer in astrology!. i love listening to rap/rnb and kpop!. i’m a very affectionate person too and who isn’t afraid of skinship. i would kiss my man on the lips all the time!. what i look for in a man is for him to respect me, who loves affection/skinship, tall, sweet, caring, funny, understanding, protect me, loves affection, and who will always be there with me through thick and thin. my aesthetic would be baddie vibes, like dark red colors, black, sexy colors, light pink, and just i don’t give a fuck vibes/bad bitch energy!. i’m 20 years old old so NSFW would be good to put!. my favorite color is pink and neon green!. thank you so so much tum, you’re such a sweetheart!. i hope you have a wonderful night!. take care hun!. i can’t wait to see what content you post!”

notes: firstly, thank you so much for your kind words, sweetpea 🥺 i love seeing your url in my notifs, your support means the world to me! i really hope you approve of this matchup, because much like the last one, bo was the first person i thought of after reading what you sent. thanks again for your sweet self and i hope to see you more ❥ drabble under the cut because it does include NSFW content!

why i matched you:

» i might be completely biased when saying this, but bokuto is literally the whole package when it comes to relationships. he will always be there for you, will always protect you, will love you unconditionally, etc. like there is not a single thing he wouldn’t do for you once you have him wrapped around your little finger. 

» bokuto loves how passionate you are about your friends/family because he feels the same way about his loved ones. he knows you’d do anything for them, and finds it incredibly admirable that you’re willing to go through extreme lengths to protect them. he values loyalty a whole lot, so you’re a perfect partner for him in that aspect!

» your confidence and bravery are definitely somethings that attract him the most to you. we all know he’s got his lil’ “emo” moments, because in reality he does have the tendency to doubt himself and his abilities when faced with certain challenges he doesn’t know he’s ready for. but you’re always there to help him see how he is capable of facing those challenges! your own self confidence really pushes him to be the best he can possibly be, and he really idolizes you for that. even if there are times where you actually end up being the one to struggle, he’ll never fail to remind you how proud of you he is and how much he looks up to you!

» affectionate? bokuto’s got you covered. man LOVES having near constant skin-on-skin contact with you. whether it’s a hand wrapped around your waist/shoulders, fingers interlocked with his, or even resting his chin on your head, he’s gonna take advantage of any chance he gets to hold you. his favorite thing to do is come up behind you when you least expect it to wrap his arms around you, bury his nose in the crook of your neck, and whisper how much he missed you/loves you against your skin. the action never fails to make you smile.

» bokuto absolutely ADORES your aesthetic, he’s constantly in a state of “how can someone be so adorable yet so hot at the same time?”. because it’s true! your bad bitch persona really meshes well with your sweet n’ kind personality, and it definitely threw him for a loop at first. but now? baby he praises you CONSTANTLY. there’s not a day that goes by where he isn’t complimenting what you’re wearing, how your hair looks, how sharp your eyeliner is, etc. like he is your personal hypeman. and you DESERVE it.

» bokuto is really the kinda guy to keep you on your toes, but that’s just part of his appeal. there’s never a dull moment with him and he loves seeing you smile or giggle because of his antics. you really just make his heart melt like a marshmallow over a campfire with everything you do so he wants to make sure he’s enough for you with everything he does. he’s gonna give you his all no matter what - so make sure you’re prepared for that kinda commitment, because this boy will want to put a ring on your finger someday!

drabble:

“Kou, c’mon, I’m trying to finish this chapter!” You whine halfheartedly to your absolute brick wall of a boyfriend, who is currently laying open mouthed kisses at the space just between your neck and collarbone. Your attempts at pushing him away are futile, and you begin to wonder if he has always been this dense. Bokuto only chuckles at the gentle gasp you emit once his tongue pokes out to lave at your soft skin. Of course he would take advantage of your distraction with his muscular hold. 

“Baby you’ve been saying that for the past half hour.” He shifts on the sofa to rest between your open legs, elbows perched on either side of you, thumbs doing god’s work at rubbing circles against your hips. You’d be lying if you said what he was doing wasn’t enticing, but…

“I-It’s just a long chapter, I can’t help it! Seriously, I only have a few more panels left.” Your bottom lip juts out into a pout, eyes wide in pleading. As antsy as Bokuto was to cover your entire body with his kisses, he can never say no to your sweet, sullen face. How could he? It always turns him into putty in your hands without fail. With a (fake) groan, he plants his cheek back against the surface between your breasts, arms looping around your frame just as they did before he started teasing you. That’s when an idea springs to the forefront of his mind. Oh, he’ll let you finish that chapter alright. 

“Fine,” He huffs, turning his head so his chin is resting on your chest. His eyes burn into yours with a playful glint and an equally playful smirk plastered to his features, “you have 1 minute.”

“What?”

“Starting…” Bokuto’s grin grows impossibly wider, tongue peeking behind his pearly whites, “now.” And with that his skillful hands snake their way under your sweatshirt to feel as much of you as possible. Bokuto thanks his lucky stars that you opted out of wearing a bra today, making it much easier for him to trace his digits over your peaking nipples, calloused thumbs rolling sensually over each pebble. Your sharp intake of breath only spurs him on further - and your weak, breathy whimper encourages him to follow suit with his tongue trailing up your stomach, nimble fingers sliding the hem of your jumper upward to expose more of your heated skin to his merciless lips. 

Suddenly the comic on your phone screen has no room for your attention as Bokuto’s ministrations demand all focus to his sinful lips, eliciting another mewl from your agape mouth. You quickly lock your screen and let your head fall back into the cushions once his tongue finally reaches your sensitive tits. The feeling only intensifies when he lets out another heated laugh in response, relishing in the way your back arches into him. 

“Heh, that’s what I thought, baby.”

deadline for matchups is (08/29/20)! be sure to submit your entry before this date and check the tag #tumplaysmatchmaker to stay updated!

[darkmindsotome]

Wrapped For Dinner

Fandom: Love 365 Irresistible Mistakes

Pairing: Shunichiro Tachibana x MC

Word count: 3,796

Warning: NSFW Smut

Written by: darkmindsotome

Tagging @voltage-vixen as requested. Prompt #13: Sex under the sun dress

Darkmindsotome Masterlist

---

Wrapped For Dinner

My latest big project at Addison & Rhodes had me working as lead creative. It was long hours and a lot of hard work but in the end, we were able to pull off a pretty fantastic ad campaign that was currently trending and going viral. 

To say I was relieved at the response was putting it modestly. Toma had already teased me about the stupid grin on my face creeping him out at work and Natsume had commented on it as well when he dropped off the updated sales figures. I managed to laugh them both off, nothing was going to put a dampener on my good mood. Well, almost nothing…

The phone rang at my desk the caller ID clearly displaying it was from the creative director’s office. I picked up the receiver as I pressed the button to answer. I had palpitations in my chest knowing my boyfriend was calling me during work hours. I wonder if I’ll ever get used to this?

“Creative department, MC speaking.”

“Always so professional.” I could hear Shinichiro’s deep voice as he chuckled. It managed to send tingles rippling through me. “Good work on that last project I just saw the updates. The projections look set to knock the client’s preferred targets out of the park.”

“Thank you, Sir. It means a lot hearing you say that.” My mood and happiness seemed to increase ten-fold being praised by him.

“… Listen about later, I’m going to have to take a rain check. One of the larger clients for the company had a scheduling issue and I was asked by the higher-ups to cover for someone who is still off-site.” Shunichiro’s words were like a bucket of ice water bringing me firmly back to Earth.

“Oh, that’s fine.” I didn’t know what else to say in response, it felt like the wind had been knocked out of me and I rolled my chair a little closer to my desk hoping the computer monitor would hide me from the rest of the department.

“I knew you’d say that. I’ll make arrangements for something soon and make it up to you.” He sounded genuinely sorry but what worried me more than the cancelled date was how tired he sounded.

“You don’t have to worry, work is work. I’ve bailed on you a few times recently too.” I tried to mask my disappointment with a little enthusiasm. I really didn’t want to add to his problems by making him worry about me.

“Well alright if that’s how you really feel. You seriously did a great job this time I’m going to have to work harder to stay ahead.” It was reassuring to hear him accept my response and hear the motivation return to him. I could feel the smile returning to my face just listening to him.

“I’m still nowhere near –”

“I’m going to have to go another call is coming in.” Shunichiro cut me off after an electronic beeping on the line.

“Alright.” I nodded. He was busy and while I had really wanted to see him it couldn’t be helped.

“Mc? I can’t wait to see you.”

The line went dead as I held the receiver to my ear for a few seconds letting his parting words linger.

“Oh, Shun… you really don’t play fair.”

*

With no new projects that required my immediate attention, I was actually able to leave the office on time for the first time in ages. It was the weekend and the original plan had been to go to Shunichiro’s last night and spend the weekend together.

I looked over at the weekend bag I dragged back from a locker at the train station last night. Takuro had given me a quizzical look when I came back with it, but he was now curled up on top of the bag fast asleep.

Reaching for my phone I shot a quick message to Shunichiro wishing him good luck at work then hopped into the shower. With my hair dry but a towel still wrapped around me, I rifled through my wardrobe looking for clothes. I picked up the summer dress Yuiko had helped me find on our last shopping trip together.

The delicate gradient of pastel shades made the dress look like a dawn sky and the petals spread out around the baseline hem looked like I had kicked up waves of Sakura flowers. It made me feel happy and a change in mood was certainly what I wanted right now.

I hadn’t been very sure about it, after all, it was a wrap-around dress that caused a deep plunge to my neckline. My reaction had made Yuiko laugh as she kept encouraging me to try it on insisting that if it was to go on a date that it was perfect. In the end, I bought it, I wanted to see his reaction but that was not happening today.

Tying the fabric around my waist I checked myself in the mirror and slipped on a pair of kitten heels. Today may not be the day I get to see him but it was still a day off. Plus, I had been working so hard at the office recently I had no groceries in the apartment to make breakfast. Grabbing my purse, I exited my place in search of sustenance.

*

My parents had always warned me about food shopping on an empty stomach. I really didn’t want to end up carrying a ton of things back with me just because I was thinking with my belly and not my brain. After cutting through the park I came out onto the main road and spotted a familiar sign for McDonald's and went in.

Quickly grabbing a McMuffin and a coffee to go I was just on my way out again when I walked smack into someone. A familiar scent of a particular brand of cigarette, cologne and citrus shampoo filled my senses.

“Whoops! Careful, are you alright?” My eyes followed the arms supporting me. Navy blue suit with grey pinstriped vest and a custom shirt. Finally reaching his face and those deep brown eyes. My mind went blank as I stood there, face to face with Shunichiro. “Wait… MC?”

Clearly, I was not the only one surprised to see my partner. Shunichiro’s eyes looked me over from head to toe as if to check it was really me. I was suddenly very aware of his arms around me and felt a little self-conscious with how he was looking at me. I haven’t done anything different with my usual makeup, maybe its the dress. Does he not like it?

“Morning, late night?” I took half a step back putting a little space between us and the awkward situation.

“Yeah, fast food always tastes better after a late night. If you’re free right now we could eat together.” He shrugged, composed as always. This kind of situation really doesn’t rattle him, I guess that’s something that comes from age and experience.

“Really?”

“Well, it’s up to you. What do you want?” He was clearly holding back laughter I probably sounded or looked childish right now. His playful tone was not lost on me if anything it triggered more of my childish side.

“You have to ask?” I gave him a small glare that made him smile wider.

“Ok, I’ll be right back.”

I found a booth and sat down feeling completely unsure as to what I was now supposed to do. I wasn’t supposed to see him today at all and the fact I now was had thrown me. The look on his face when he recognised me also bugged me a little. While I was lost in thought a second bag was placed next to mine and the cushioned seating at my side pressed lower as Shunichiro sat down.

“I was going to phone you later.” He began talking as he cracked open his bag and began pulling out two McMuffins and a pastry.

“You were?” I looked at his face in profile, he was always handsome but something about this slightly tired look had me thinking back to our time spent together in bed. I reached out for my own bag of food to distract myself from my own lude imagination.

“Mhm,” He filled his mouth with a bite of his breakfast and then sucked hard of the straw for his iced fruit juice. I could have laughed at myself for how I suddenly felt very jealous of a straw, watching his moist lips wrap around it. “After pulling an all-nighter, preparing copies and things for the meeting. The client phoned saying they would have to reschedule again.”

He sighed and leaned back against the booth seating. He was frustrated and tired, you didn’t have to be his girlfriend to see something so plain.

“After you put in all that work!? That’s just too much…” I raised my voice a little allowing the annoyance I felt to at least show even if he wouldn’t.

“It’s a big account and the board members all want to keep it, but when I left the office earlier they were all apologising to me for the extra work.” He gave a wry smile and sucked a bit more on his drink. This was one of the many things I actually loved about this man. His dedication to his craft made him glow in a way that always had me dazzled, it motivated me to keep pushing forward.

“Must be nice to be in demand like that.” I smiled feeling some of my anger subside. He was so talented and respected by everyone in the company. Remembering that a warmth spread through my chest as a wave of affection hit me for the man at my side.

“You are as well you know? I am always getting requests for you to handle accounts personally.” There is a look on his face that even in profile seems to reflect everything I was just feeling about him back at me.

“You’re joking!” I nearly choked on my coffee as my embarrassment caught in my throat. Great work there MC remember to breathe air, not coffee.

“I’m really not.” Shunichiro chuckled at my little outburst making me feel even more childish sitting next to such a well put together man. He had already devoured his pastry and moved on to the rest of his food without me even noticing. “It actually makes me feel very...” He turned his head to look at me the expression painted on his face was not one I saw when working. It was softer but there was an intensity swimming in his eyes that automatically had my core tightening under that gaze. He smiled and then gave my food a nudge closer to me. “Your food is getting cold.”

“Oh!” The spell holding me seemed to break at his prompting. I really wanted to know what he didn’t finish saying, but the timing was now all wrong.

I don’t know if he knew what I was thinking or how he was affecting me. Knowing him he probably had already laid the groundwork for the perfect game plan. He always found a way to get me dancing in the palm of his hand.

“So what do you want to do now?” His question had me confused. It also came right after I had stuffed a big mouthful of McMuffin into my mouth.

“I thought you’d just pulled an all-nighter. Shouldn’t you be heading home to rest?” My words were muffled as I tried to swallow my food and talk at the same time. I probably looked like a hamster, my lack of manners and decorum didn’t faze him at all he simply listened to my garbled gibberish with a soft smile on his face. Ok, that look should be illegal.

“I was but seeing you made me feel much more energised. I’m not so old that one late night is going to stop me from seeing the woman I love. It’s up to you though, I know what I’d prefer.” He was so calm and easy-going. It reminded me that this mature sexy guy was like the smooth jazz music at our favourite bar.

He always did this. No matter what he always said something that was intrinsically tempting in a way you couldn’t possibly refuse then asks what you want to do. It still catches me off guard at times but I honestly wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Then will you come shopping with me?” I hadn’t planned on seeing him today so the fact I was right now made me unbelievably happy. It didn’t, however, change the reason behind my leaving my apartment.

“Shopping?” My rather boring request had him look at me in slight wonder. I don’t know if he thought I had offered up something mundane because I was concerned for his exhaustion or what.

“Sorry is that weird?” I cast my eyes down looking at the last bite of my breakfast in my hands shyly.

“No, not at all. What are we shopping for?”

“I…” I fidgeted in my seat. At work, I was organised and usually even at home I was as well. However, being as busy as I had recently meant I had let so many things slide in my personal life that I was getting embarrassed thinking about it all. “I haven’t been home much so I didn’t have any groceries.”

“Well, we can’t have that. If we’re buying food can I make some requests?” Shunichiro didn’t laugh at me or look like he was harshly judging me. I finally look up at him, his face looking a little boyish. I loved that look of innocence on him too.

“Of course!”

*

After finishing our food, we headed over to one of the larger stores because it had a slightly bigger variety of items.

“So, what do you want to request?” I ask as I pick up a shopping basket from the stack.

“Well lately I’ve been really craving your cooking I would say anything you make is fine but…” Shunichiro trails off looking at the displays. It made me smile thinking this is the first time in a while either of us had been food shopping.

“You want me to make chicken nuggets don’t you?” I end up giggling which earns me a raised eyebrow from him.

“You know me so well.”

“Naturally I am your girlfriend after all.” The words came naturally but with an instant hit of embarrassment. To hide my fluster, I looked away from him as I marched towards the shelves. “I’ll just go find the seasonings you go get the chicken.”

“Anything else?” He was hot on my heels making me little thankful for being able to stay ahead of him.

“Whatever you see you might want to eat.” I stopped in front of the seasoning looking over the array of choices and as I raised my hand to pick one up, I found myself covered from behind. “Shun?”

“In that case do I really have to go over there? I can’t think of anything but how great you would taste right now.” Shunichiro’s low voice and hot breath brushed against my ear as he pressed himself against my back. His hand was on top of my outstretched one, nimble fingers tracing my own while he used his thumb to rub the sensitive skin on the inside of my wrist.

“Shun… we’re in the middle of a store.” I closed my eyes wanting so badly for time to stop or for our location to just magically change. He placed his other hand on my hip sliding towards the wrapped fabric of my waist. His fingers delved into the gap they found and traced over the naked flesh beneath.

“Mmm, pity.” He hummed before removing himself and gracefully swiped the basket from my hand as if nothing had happened at all. “I’ll go get the chicken then.”

“You’re a damn tease, Shunichiro.” I muttered as I finished finding the seasonings and made a move for some frozen items next. With any luck, the freezers might help me cool down.

*

It was almost a mad dash to get home. I wanted to say it was because of the risk of food spoiling but to be honest that was the last thing on either of our minds.

Our little flirtations had persisted around the entire store, and when I say our flirtations, I mean Shunichiro’s. By the time we were at the checkout, I was trembling so much from his persistent teases that I couldn’t locate my card in my purse easily.

Not wishing to waste valuable time, Shunichiro produced his card and paid for the whole lot. He even picked up all the bags and began walking before I could protest. As we left, I caught one person saying “…such a gentleman.” Oh if only you knew.

Once inside he walked right into my small kitchen and opened the door to the fridge, not caring one bit about unpacking. I watched in shock as the entire bags, including their contents, were unceremoniously wedged inside.

“You know that isn’t good for the food right?”

“And you know right now I couldn’t care less.” His voice was lower than I expected. It was ruff and gravelly instantly reigniting all the tingling hot spots he had kindled during our impromptu shopping date.

He closed the gap between us in the blink of an eye. The strength with which he took me in his arms knocked the air from my lungs and my ability to think right out of my body. He dipped low plying my lips open with his tongue and pushing it deep into my mouth as if he were trying to steal my ability to speak as well.

Experienced hands roamed over the top of my dress pulling on the fabric in all the right places to provide some friction of fabric on flesh, raising the temperature between us.

“Mhm!.... Ah… Shun.” I was panting as he pulled back finally allowing me a few seconds to gain some air.

“I’ve never been so bothered by work. It’s so frustrating our schedules just never match up at the minute.” Even as he spoke he was removing his own clothes. Tossing his jacket and vest behind himself in a flurry of action that had me rubbing my legs together seeing him so desperate.

“I know I felt the same.” I brought my hand up to the buttons on his shirt, slowly tracing them before popping them one by one between my fingers like I was snapping them. My eyes never left his as he unbuckled his leather belt and trousers. “Every time I felt a break in the workload You vanished under a pile of assignments.”

“Seeing you every day at work. So close…” He shuddered at my touch the fire in his eyes lit scorching hot paths through my body.

He gave an almost silent groan as he lunged at me. My back hit the kitchen table as he pinned me down on either side with his strong arms. Hovering over me I could feel the pulsating heat from his body and the weight of his raw animal magnetism that always had me coming back for more.

My legs were forced wide as he brought his leg and hip between them. Alternating rhythms resounded in my body as my heart hammered hard enough to burst and his fingers danced up my inner thigh under my dress before slipping past the fabric barrier covering me.

“Mmm, A-ah—” The pressure filling me was exquisite. I watched his arm and shoulder pump in action with his fingers buried deep inside me as he worked away at my sanity.

“I was so glad to see you today I thought the torture was over but then you had to go and do this to me.”

“Do what? I didn’t do anything?” I was seriously confused. I was focusing on him but I felt like there was something I was missing. He didn’t answer me with words instead he brought his face to my chest burying it between my breasts and pulled on the fabric of my dress with his teeth.

“Are you being coy on purpose? Where did you learn to charm a man like that?” He pulled his fingers free with a smirk watching as I writhed missing his touch while he licked them clean. The next feeling my increasingly befuddled mind registered was the complete fulfilment as we became one.

“Oh, God!” My back arched against the unforgiving table and he placed one hand on my chest pushing me back down while he moved his hips against me.

“Ngh… dammit, you are just so perfect.”

“Shu…ni…chiro…” The pop and grind that was a familiar dance to us had me seeing stars.

“I know baby, I know.” He picked up the pace our bodies becoming slick with sweat as we relentlessly hammered home our mutual desires for each other.

*

“You awake?”

I slowly opened my eyes finding that I was not exactly where I thought I was. Shunichiro had been sitting on my sofa having a drink. Noticing how I was now conscious he returned to my side in my small little bed.

“Mmm, yeah. Did you carry me to bed?” Clutching the covers over my chest I wriggled closer to him. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders placing my head on his chest in the process.

“Well I did consider leaving you on the kitchen table but I thought you might get cold.” He laughed as he teased me. I was too happily exhausted to care and gave him a pathetically weak slap on his arm. My eyes started to adjust more to being fully awake, finding my alarm clock next to the bed.

“Jeez is that the time I should start making the food.” I freed myself from his hold and had placed one foot outside of the covers only to be pulled back in. “Ah!”

“You could or we could enjoy ourselves a little more. There’s no rush, after all, we have the rest of the weekend together.” He was whispering in my ear and trailing fingers over my now naked form. The tip of his tongue drew a line down my neck to my nape where he suckled on it. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re a sneaky scoundrel.” I smiled knowing this was him. He was sneaky, tricky, devilish, conniving and god help me if I didn’t find every aspect of the man appealing.

“Correction.” He chuckled and I found myself flipped under him. “I’m your sneaky scoundrel, and you’re mine.”

---

[fangirlxwritesx67]

50 Kisses 500 Follower Celebration

8 months ago I thought to myself, “What if I actually wrote down some of these stories in my head?” I couldn’t keep them to myself, and I started a Tumblr to shout porn into the void. It’s been a wild journey for me but I’ve gotten to 500 followers, and I want to celebrate with you! 

I’ve selected this prompt list of 50 Kisses as the jumping off point. You can either take a challenge or leave one or do both.

If you take a challenge - you send me an ask with a kiss number. I send you back a character or pairing and you write it! (I’m open to your suggestions, too)

If you leave a challenge - you send me an ask with a kiss number, and the pairing or character you want to see. I will write you exactly 100 words. 

Rules: we are here to have fun and share stories. 

There is not a strict time frame altho I will start updating a masterlist on May 1 and probably stop in August. Please use the tag “50 Kisses” as well as “fangirlxwritesx67″ so I can find your stories easily. 

I will write most SPN characters, both slash and femslash, and can be convinced to venture into RPF. Sam, and Sam x Rowena are my favorites. I am multi-fandom for either reading or writing; just ask.

Tag your work appropriately. I won’t read or write dubcon or noncon, underage, scat play, spanking, incest, or a/b/o. Sex positive, consent positive, weed positive, cast and wife positive. 

Some of these kisses can be platonic; just specify.

I will be letting each person take one challenge and leave one challenge until the list is complete. I may open it up for more later, depends how this goes.  If you want to get creative, message me, we’ll talk. 

Here’s the list of kisses:

1 Small kisses littered across the other’s face.

2 A small, fleeting kiss - which is immediately followed by a passionate, hungry kiss.

3 A breathy demand: “Kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond. I will write for @winchesterxfamilybusiness Dean x Jo

4 An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose.

5 Throwing their arms around the other person’s neck, hugging them close before kissing them passionately on the lips.

6 Wild, breathless kisses brought on by a heartfelt gift.

7 French kisses where they trace every tooth with their tongues as though trying to memorize them.

8 Laying a gentle kiss to the back of the other’s hand.

9 A kiss that lasts so long, they are sharing each other’s breaths.

10 A hello/good-bye kiss that is given without thinking - where neither person thinks twice about it.

11 Morning kisses that are exchanged before either person opens their eyes, kissing blindly until their lips meet in a blissful encounter.

12 Sneaking away to a hidden corner to share a secretive kiss.

13 Butterfly kisses against the other’s cheeks.

14 A kiss so desperate that the two wind around each other, refusing to let go until they are finished. I will write for @marril96, Sam x Rowena

15 A fierce kiss that ends with a bite on the lip, soothing it with a lick.

16 One person pouting, only to have it removed by a kiss from the other person.

17 Tucking their hands beneath the other person’s shirt, just to watch them break the kiss and gasp in surprise at the sensation of cold/warm hands on their skin.

18 Teasing kisses where one person blows air into the other’s mouth and runs away.

19 One person stopping a kiss to ask “Do you want to do this?”, only to have the other person answer with a deeper, more passionate kiss. @idabbleincrazy​ will write for me, with Sam 

20 Kissing in a stairwell, giving them an artificial height difference. @deanwanddamons will write for me, a Winchester and Rowena, flipping the height difference

21 A chaste kiss given to each other because they are in mixed company.

22 A kiss that is leading to more, but is interrupted by a third party.

23 A kiss that tastes of the food/dessert they are eating.

24 Deep kisses where they have their hands tangled in each other’s hair to pull them closer. I will write for @awesomesusiebstuff Sam x reader 

25 Wet kisses after finding refuge from the rain.

26 Brushing a kiss along the shell of the other person’s ear.

27 Kisses exchanged while one person sits on the other’s lap. I will write for @deanwanddamons Dean x Rowena

28 One person tracing the other’s lips with a fingertip until they can’t resist any longer, tilting their chin towards them for a kiss.I will write for @idabbleincrazy​ with Sam

29 Staring at each other’s lips for a moment before moving closer, as if drawn together by some unseen force.

30 Weak, sweaty kisses because it’s unbearably hot.

31 Pulling away from a kiss, whispering words of love against each other’s lips.

32 A kiss so passionate, so perfect - that after they part, neither person can open their eyes for a few moments afterwards. @idreamofplaid will write for me

33 An unexpected kiss that shocks the one receiving it. @pansexualdarling is going to write a femslash for me! 

34 Kisses that start on their fingers and run up their arm, eventually ending on their lips.

35 An awkward kiss given after a first date.

36 Starting with butterfly kisses before moving on to soft kisses.

37 Cleaning the other person’s lips with a lick and a kiss.

38 Whispering “I love you” before a chaste, delicate kiss.

39 Kissing tears from the other’s face.  @awesomesusiebstuff will write for me Sam x Jody

40 A gentle kiss that quickly descends into passion, with little regard for what’s going on around them.

41 Kisses shared under an umbrella. -I will write for @mskathywriteswords​ with Rowena x fem

42 Distracting kisses from someone that are meant to stop the other person from finishing their work, and give them kisses instead.

43 A kiss pressed to the top of the head.

44 Tentative kisses given in the dark.

45 Kisses exchanged as they move around, hitting the edges of tables or nearly tripping over things on the floor before making it to the sofa, or bed. - I will write for @marril96, Rowena x female reader

46 A lingering kiss before a long trip apart.

47 A kiss paired with a tight hug, knocking the breath out of the person being hugged.

48 One person has to bend down in order to kiss their partner, who is standing on their tip-toes to reach their partner’s.

49 Short and sweet kiss after meeting up for a date.

50 A kiss, followed by more that trail down the jaw and neck. @kickingitwithkirk .will write me Sam x anything

..

Thanks MJ @thoughtslikeaminefield for the prompt and Lou @there-must-be-a-lock for the banner SPN First Last and Always: @boondoctorwho @dawnie1988 @deanwanddamons @defenderrosetyler @divadinag @flamencodiva @fookinghelljensensthighs @idreamofplaid @kalesrebellion @kickingitwithkirk @maddiepants @magssteenkamp @onethirstyunicorn   @the-chocolate-moose  @there-must-be-a-lock @tloveswriting Sam Girl For Life: @awesomesusiebstuff @lilsylvia @winchesterxfamilybusiness Dean Curious:  @adoptdontshoppets @awesomesusiebstuff @deangirl7695 @deans-baby-momma  @mrsjenniferwinchester @stoneyggirl @supersassyprobablysad @wayward-gypsy @winchesterxfamilybusiness Rowena My Queen:  @delightfullykrispypeach @lilsylvia @marril96 @pansexualdarling @songofthecagedmoose Gay Screaming: @boondoctorwho, @cracksinthewalls, @itmighthavebeenintentional, @justcallmeasmodeus, @katehuntington, @maddiepants, @mskathywriteswords, @rockhoochie, @stusbunker, @there-must-be-a-lock, @thoughtslikeaminefield

[siribear]

‘let glory take point,’ deacon says. ‘she’s the one with the armor.’ it’s true. glory’s the only one even remotely defended, her heavy jacket modified with metal plates stitched within the padding of the tan coat. she and deacon are only dressed in their plain shirts and jeans, for lack of any other armor available at hq.

‘after you, ma’am.’ whisper gestures, falling in line behind glory.

‘don’t call me ma’am,’ glory mutters, leading them through the metro.

thankfully, they only encounter raiders during their trek. the unorganized group doesn’t stand a chance against the three trained agents. glory draws all the attention while whisper and deacon sneak around to pick off the distracted raiders.

‘nice to see that even with your sneaky shit, you haven’t lost your touch, dee.’

deacon, almost in response, finishes off a raider with a clean shot to the head. ‘i aims to please.’

whisper slings an arm across his shoulders, now that the area’s cleared. ‘it’s why i keep him around.’

glory frowns and makes to flick at her glasses. whisper flinches backward, slinking behind deacon. ‘and he made you into a deacon 2.0.’

‘i have to admit, she’s the better looking between the two of us.’

whisper turns around to call the elevator and to hide her growing blush. only made worse when glory openly agrees. the elevator dings, and an automated voice announces its arrival to bzzt floor. ‘after you, miss glory.’

‘being pretty doesn’t make that any less annoying,’ she says, but still enters, and whisper can only smile.

down in the basement, they’re greeted by the haptic sounds of gunfire. immediately, deacon and whisper duck down and behind the minuscule cover the open elevator doors provide. glory ducks, winding up her minigun. no sudden gunfire slams into the elevator, but they can still hear the gunfire, followed by screaming. the only voices they hear are human, over the unmistakable sound of laser fire.

‘more synths,’ whisper says, low. ‘sorry, glory.’

glory sighs. ‘let’s just get this over with.’

glory takes point again as they slowly make their way forward, down a short hallway that ends in a left turn. slowly, at least, until glory charges forward, whisper and deacon on her heels. a handful of raiders, whatever’s left of the group that took over the metro, faces off against a squad of synths. unfortunately, the raiders are trapped behind their makeshift wooden structures, and even with the high ground granted by their constructed lofts, they’re no match for the synth’s lasers and glory’s minigun. the synths, on the other hand, have taken advantage of the stalled subway car, peering through broken windows and metal doors.

between the sharpshooters, the synths are picked off, sparks lighting the dim subway with every one that goes down. glory ends the remaining raiders in a bloody shower of red. all in all, they did well. no injuries on their side, but the carnage turns her stomach. they probably thought the trio could help them; everyone turned against the synths - but the raiders would have turned on them right after, no doubt. some dimming part of her feels - terribly guilty.

‘what’s going through your head, partner?’ deacon asks from his crouched position, hands deep in the pockets of a dead raider. he passes her a handful of pistol ammo, the bullets tinged red with blood.

‘idealism,’ she says, softly.

‘go on.’

she groans, frustrated. ‘just - wondering how many people we can prevent from turning to raiding, you know? no lack of food, water, safety. no need to turn to chems. that sort of thing.’

deacon stares at her for a moment, silent. then, ‘watch that bleeding heart of yours. most people are content to let you bleed out.’

‘yeah, i’m figuring out that much.’ the world pre-war was by no means perfect, but it still shocks her how bad things have gotten. but maybe it’s always been this way, just under the surface, the bombs blowing away the top level of society, peeling back the layers, leaving them with this. she doesn’t take part in the looting, this time.

when the scavenging is finished, glory stands near the door that will lead them back to the surface. ‘you know, this was actually a pretty good run. you two aren’t so bad. guess i can say it was good seeing you two, but i should report back to griswold.’ on the way up, whisper quickly runs her through the updates from the day’s earlier meeting. ‘hey, you find a way back into the institute, i want to be there.’ she cracks her neck. ‘storm the place, give my last fuck you to the assholes who created me.’

‘top of my list, glory, don’t worry.’

‘and keep an eye on the brotherhood,’ she says, motioning to the sky. ‘i’ve been seeing those vertibirds flying around. who knows what they’re looking for.’

‘duly noted, mademoiselle gloire,’ whisper says with a grin. deacon chuckles.

glory isn’t as amused - or not that she’d admit. there’s definitely a smile she’s fighting. ‘and you were doing so well.’

‘what was it? i aims to please.’

glory points between the two of them. ‘i’m getting out of this pair. right now. before i strangle the both of you.’

‘you know we’ll miss you terribly, gloria.’ deacon receives a friendly middle finger in glory’s wake.

-

whisper hardly needs his help maneuvering around the city these days. it almost makes him feel useless. almost. until he stops her from walking right into mutie territory; the mutants have moved further into the city, set up their favorite, bloody decorations along the buildings like christmas lights.

but his partner likes to walk the old roads, likes to wear away the poor, centuries old pavement. ‘save some road for future generations,’ he begs her, and, bless her, she takes to a sidewalk. leave it to her to think of the future.

so, maybe that’s why he appreciates her. it’s been far too long since he’s thought of the future. can’t appreciate the seeds you’ve sewn for the future if you don’t survive the day. she makes him think there might be an end to that.

whisper stops at the entrance to goodneighbor, hand stilled on the metal door.

‘take a hit to the head back in malden? forget how to use doors?’

she spins on her heel, puts her back to the door, and all deacon can think is: uh oh. he knows the look; she wants to talk. and he’ll talk, sure, but -

‘why didn’t you tell me about the tech you picked from kellogg’s brain?’

- deacon is, unfortunately, finding it more difficult to lie to her. she’s picked out enough of his bullshit, gone along with the rest of it. the act itself isn’t difficult - deacon’s been lying for years. but there’s a little part of him that whispers (ha) don’t lie to her.

‘didn’t seem important.’

she cants her head to the side. ‘try again. you can do better.’

see, he can. but he doesn’t want to. so he gives her the truth. part of it, anyway. ‘it might have been a waste of time. i figured, between tom and carrington, they’d find out if it was a lead worth pursuing.’

he notices the tension begin to drain from her shoulders. a leak, not a release. ‘so it wasn’t because you don’t trust me?’

so that’s what this is about. carrington must have gotten to her more than she let on. ‘of course not. i trust you.’ more than he probably should, but deacon still considers himself a good judge of character.

she catches her genuine smile, turns it into a grin, and he can hear the wink in her voice when she says, ‘thought you can’t trust anyone?’

he rolls his eyes even though she’s turned her back to him to push through to goodneighbor. ‘just you, partner,’ he mumbles, low enough that she can’t hear.

-

amari looks between the two of them before pulling away from her paperwork. the memory den is empty today, likely in preparation for what they’re about to do. though, irma had apparently been told who to look out for, because she had simply waved them on to the back.

‘do you have a geiger counter?’ the doctor asks.

‘mine is in the shop,’ whisper answers dutifully. the doctor’s hands return from under her desk and away from a pistol she no doubt has hidden. deacon has taught them all so well.

‘i recognize you.’ amari nods at deacon. ‘you’re the other one?’ when whisper introduces herself, amari’s eyes widen. ‘ah, i see. h2 mentioned you.’

‘he’s why we’re here. malden center is open again for one last run. desdemona is working on another route.’

amari closes her eyes and nods. ‘i thought as much. thank you. it was getting dangerous holding him here.’ she rises from her desk. ‘i’ve kept him the back room, but we’re going to need it if we’re going to go through with this procedure.’ she holds out a note with another shorthand - different from deacon’s own - scribbled in drummer boy’s handwriting. ‘your other friend isn’t here yet. i’ll go have h2 move to another room.’

‘no!’ whisper near-shouts. ‘i’ll get him, it’s no trouble.’

‘i don’t think that’s - ‘ amari begins, but whisper is already halfway to the back. ‘is this her first?’

deacon nods. ‘they got particularly close. she took a bullet for him.’ he remembers the look in her eyes when they were sitting in the lobby in ticon. like a mother looking at her son. how it didn’t hit him then that she’s a mother - ‘she’d find out one way or another.’

he can’t protect her from this.

‘he left this for her.’ amari pulls a holotape from her pocket. ‘that’s how i knew who she was.’

-

whisper is breathless, half-skipping down the stairs to where h2 waits. she takes in that mop of brown hair, his padded blue jacket, though he’s grown a beard since the last time she saw him. he sits on a couch at the edge of the room, staring down at his hands.

‘hey - ‘

‘whoa, lady.’ it’s h2′s face, but not his voice. this man’s voice is rougher, not the soft-spoken young man she met in the church. ‘doc said i’m in quarantine. i might be contagious or something. what’re you doin’ down here?’

there’s no recognition in his eyes when he looks at her. just confusion. ‘i, uh, i work with the doctor. she said you’re clear, and we’re moving you to another room. she’s - she’s upstairs.’

‘oh, hey, cool. i was gettin’ bored down here. only so many times you can count ceiling tiles, y’know? was tempted to take a little nap in one of those pods. anyway, upstairs, you said?’

whisper’s glad for the sunglasses when he comes closer. somehow, she keeps the tears out of her voice. ‘yeah, upstairs. she’ll get you set up to leave.’

‘thanks again, lady. nice meetin’ you.’

she doesn’t turn, just listens to the sound of his retreating footsteps. ‘yeah. nice to meet you.’

it’s where deacon and nick find her moments later, standing in the middle of the room, staring at the two memory pods in front of her. the former puts a hand between her shoulders, leans around her. ‘you okay? i should have warned you - ’

‘no, i needed to find out myself. i get it.’ she’s since dried her tears.

‘this is for you.’ he takes one of her hands in his, places something cold and metal in the center. ‘from h2. before.’ it’s a small holotape with her codename written on it.

she puts it in her pocket. ‘thank you.’

nick passes by the two of them and runs a leathery hand over the glass of one of the pods. ‘from what i understand, we’re jumping into kellogg’s memories. sounds crazy, but knowing the institute - ’ he looks to her. ‘you ready?’

the pod looks like the one she stepped into two hundred years ago, though cushioned and inclined. the top half is entirely glass, with a single monitor hanging from the top. static hums on the screen.

whisper takes one step toward it, then freezes. what if it doesn’t open when it’s over? what if she’s stuck again, two hundred years - she grabs deacon’s hand without thinking, grips it like she’s holding on for dear life.

maybe she is.

‘we’ll all be right here,’ he reassures her. ‘it’s just memories. kellogg can’t hurt you in there.’ he turns to someone walking by, and she sees dr. amari has joined them downstairs. ‘he can’t hurt her somehow, right? this is just routine memory viewing?’

dr. amari sighs. ‘routine is not the word i’d use. unorthodox, yes, but no more dangerous. mr. valentine here is the only one in danger of complications.’

‘nick - ‘

‘it’s all right, doll. i agreed to this.’

she sighs heavily. deacon leads her over to the pod and doesn’t let go of her hand until it begins to close. it hisses shut, the hinges clicking as it locks. locks.

‘your heartbeat spiked. i need you to calm down or the memory sync won’t work,’ comes dr. amari’s voice from a small speaker near her head.

calm. breathe in, breathe out. count to ten. breathe in - deacon taps on the glass next to her. the closed pod muffles the sound of him dragging a chair over next to her. i’m right here, she reads his lips.

‘that’s better. this is your first time, so i have to tell you: it might feel a little strange. the static on the monitor is white noise, that’s all. you will be viewing these memories, as if you’re there. but you will be viewing them from kellogg’s perspective. okay?’

‘okay,’ whisper croaks. her voice barely sounds like her own. like h2′s didn’t sound the same -

‘no, no, calm down. we’re almost there. mr. valentine is ready when you are. are you?’

breathe out. ‘i’m ready.’

‘good. sunglasses off, close your eyes, and - ‘

whisper feels a sharp shock at the base of her skull, and the world goes black.

-

deacon watches whisper through the glass, eyes closed like she’s sleeping, but her eyes move back and forth rapidly. her breathing is even, at least. he props his chin in the palm of his hand, and waits.

-

she’s in a bedroom, looking down at child drawings on a bed, worn out crayons spread across a threadbare blanket. a woman sits next to her, smelling of cigarette smoke and something - something else, something familiar, but she can’t place it. she wants to turn her head to look at her, see why she seems so familiar, but she can’t. instead, she flinches at a loud knock on her bedroom door and a louder, male voice screaming on the other side of it.

the woman slides a gun into view, the revolver she’ll come to know, and places a hand on hers. ‘connie,’ the woman says, and finally she looks up. mousy brown hair, bruises on her face, a split lip. ‘you can’t rely on anyone else, honey. this is the only thing you can trust.’

the gun is heavy in her small hands. the man bangs on the door again. she aims the revolver at the door, hands shaking. the man screams and yells, and she doesn’t pull the trigger.

i ran away from home, kellogg’s voice is soft in her mind. i think she wanted me to kill him, but i didn’t realize until i was older and it was too late. don’t know what happened to her. maybe she got out.

oh, whisper thinks.

‘that’s not it. we’ll move on to the next memory.’

-

she’s older now, a prominent scar on her face and leather jacket reflecting in the kitchen window. she watches her wife clean up after breakfast. she has a job to get to in the afternoon, but until then - she wraps her arms around the woman’s waist, presses a kiss to the top of her head. sarah, this she knows. she remembers her, because how could she possibly forget her? her face, the sound of her voice.

and then their daughter coos from her high chair, tosses around crumbs sarah will be finding around the kitchen for months. mary. almost two years old. thank god she’s got her mother’s face. don’t know what she’d do if mary inherited this mug.

surprised to find out i had a family, once upon a time? we aren’t so different, you and i.

‘another memory, then.’

-

she stalks down a hallway like death. she’s the reaper. she’s deliverance. justice. revenge. there will be no mercy when she finds them. the revolver fits perfectly in her hand. a voice calls to her overhead: ‘they died like dogs. and you weren’t there to protect them.’ she knows this voice. she hates this voice. she’s going to tear his throat out with her teeth. she kicks down a door and fires. one, two, three, four, five, six. one was enough. two through six were for sarah and mary. it doesn’t bring them back, but it feels fucking good.

not so different.

‘getting closer.’

-

she nurses a beer. or was it a whiskey? maybe it’s rum tonight. she doesn’t know the name of the bar, but it never matters. what does matter: there’s always a drink.

this was the start of it, she remembers. remaking a name for herself. answering to no one but herself. having someone else lord over her makes them think they own you. and, well, when you have something they can take away?

she takes the job from the drifters. kill some family upriver. names don’t matter. caps do. keeps the liquor flowing.

kellogg is quiet, contemplative. all she gets is the soft buzzing in the back of her mind, and then she’s shuffled off to the next memory.

-

she stands in front of a woman in a clean, white suit. not many people like that around here, anymore. and she’s got two robots flanking her with a third hovering just over her own shoulder. she’s already calculated every way to make it out of this alive if it goes bad.

institute. boogeyman. and apparently she’s gotten on their bad side. not her fault, really, if the institute’s been pissing off people with enough caps to buy her help to get back at them. the only solution she can see: the institute pays her more than that. no more problem.

so the scientist doesn’t believe her at first, that’s fine. she believes after she single handedly takes out three of their skeleton-looking synths before any of them can get a shot off.

minutemen for you, institute for me, kellogg says. how close we were to becoming the same person.

-

‘manual override initiated. cryogenic stasis suspended.’

no. no, no, no. please, she can’t watch this again.

she stares at the faces of the people as they begin to wake up. first, the confusion. then, the panic. they don’t need to open any of these pods. just one. a man wakes, a baby held in one arm. that’s the target. the man looks at her, then past her, and when she turns, she sees - herself. the back up. the pod hisses open, and the man coughs and sputters, never letting go of the child.

cruel. she wonders what the fuck she did to the institute to deserve this job. the old man could have done this himself. not hard to steal an infant from a man whose muscles have been held in stasis for two hundred years.

she raises her revolver when he won’t let go, though, and maybe that’s why she’s-he’s here. do the hard job no one else wants to do. she pulls the trigger, and the man slumps forward. the scientist with him takes the baby who cries loud, echoing off the vault walls. she wonders if that’s what mary sounded like when they took her. oh well. that was years ago and she was a different person, then.

she looks to the woman with murder in her eyes. she grins. this woman would be her justice. her deliverance. her reaper. if only they’d let her go. as it is, she’s the back up. the other scientist down the hall puts her back to sleep. the other poor suckers stay trapped in their pods, forced to suffocate until their end.

‘are you okay? your heart rate increased again.’

‘dr. amari,’ she whispers, throat laden with tears, ‘next memory.’

-

their little house in diamond city has started to become a home. shaun has started to pin his drawings everywhere. some of her, down to her distinct scar. some of his parents he can barely seem to remember. she hasn’t had the heart to tell him what she did. because she’s rather enjoyed - this. what she could have had. shaun’s got the floor covered with his comic books now, and he knows he’ll have to clean them up before dinner.

he’s a good kid. looks like a perfect mix between his mother and father. shaun laughs at travis rambling on the radio, or maybe it’s something he’s reading in his books. she’s busy cleaning her revolver, breathing in the moment.

it ends, though, as do all things. the institute’s courser steps through the door, and everything changes. shaun is to go to the institute, for good. and she’s to hunt down virgil, hiding out in the glowing sea. shaun looks up at her with confused, but understanding eyes. she doesn’t even get to say goodbye before he and the courser disappear in a flash of blue light, teleported back to the institute.

she spins the chambers on her revolver, listens to it click and whir. with a flick of her wrist, it’s done. she’ll set up in fort hagen for now. the old man will have her house cleaned out the moment she leaves, so she packs only what she needs. her guns, ammo, armor. her favorite cigars and booze, because if she’s going to the glowing sea, she’s going to enjoy herself before setting foot in that radiation bath.

she picks up shaun’s pile of comics and stacks them neatly on the desk. maybe whatever courser that cleans her place will take them back to shaun. she laughs, realizing how stupid that sounds. so she picks up the stack herself and throws the entire thing into the trash can.

she shoulders her bag and turns off the lights, locking the door behind her. at least she had the taste of her perfect little family.

good riddance.

now get out.

-

‘that’s it!’ amari shouts, but deacon isn’t listening.

he’s watching whisper wake up slowly, electrodes at the base of her skull falling as she pulls away from the chair. she touches her cheek, follows the trail of her tears from earlier. whatever she saw bothered her. a lot. she practically jumps when the pod clicks open, and he’s there in an instant, helping her out of it and steadying her shaking legs.

‘that’s why we could never find an entrance to the institute. there isn’t one. at least not an obvious one.’

‘teleportation - that’s,’ whisper starts slowly, tries to reform words. ‘how?’

‘i assume that scientist the courser - ‘ deacon stiffens. ‘ - mentioned, virgil, will know something. he’s your best bet. the glowing sea,’ amari says to him, the only one not privy to any of this, ‘that’s where you’ll find him.’

the glowing sea. a heavily irradiated expanse of land. great.

‘where’s nick?’ whisper asks.

‘he was up before you. i’m going to check on him, make sure there’s no side effects from that procedure. then i need to get ready to move h2. excuse me.’

amari leaves in a rush, but whisper stays where she is, looking dazed. he remembers the first time he used the memory pod, and he ended up much like this after it. though reliving the memories of an institute hitman couldn’t have been easy on her.

‘whisper,’ he tries, bringing her focus back to him, instead of the chair she’s burning a hole into. ‘you okay?’

‘deacon,’ she stares up at him, eyes wide. she opens her mouth to speak, cups his face like she’s trying to see if he’s real, and then her eyes shift down, and suddenly she’s kissing him.

his hands instinctively go to her hips, but the rest of his body is two steps behind his brain that is currently short circuiting. it’s over, as quick as it was unexpected, and he has a hell of an internal war trying to convince himself that he isn’t disappointed.

she pulls away slowly, eyes half-lidded, and she whispers, ‘thank you,’ against his lips, still so close he can trace out the syllables. whisper comes back to herself, eyes back to his, bright and hopeful. ‘thank you, thank you,’ she repeats.

‘wait. what?’

she’s still grinning when she bends down to pick up her sunglasses, fallen to the floor of the memory pod, and it doesn’t fade even as she drags him back upstairs to the main floor of the memory den.