#yeah the two french ocs would hate each other

[valentinetypewriter]

The Lion And The Snake - Chapter One

Summary: the Black siblings and the Marauders hate each other, and nothing and no one will ever change that, well at least that's what they think

Main Masterlist // marauders era masterlist

Notes: I'm changing the Yule ball to be an annual thing and not a triwizard tournament thing. Also I'm not entirely fluent in French so I'll be using google translate, so I apologise if anything is incorrect. And lastly I'm adding in just a random oc that will become more important later on - let me know your guys thoughts on this fic in the comments

Warnings: bullying, fighting, mean Marauders, slytherin Sirius, badly translated French

Word count: 1,944

The problem with Gryffindors in general was that if you weren't in their house they didn't seem to think you were worth their time, they were all so self assured and confident in a sort of 'I'm better than everyone else' sort of way, and even the Slytherins got along with the other two houses better than Gryffindor. The worst of them though was the infamous Marauders, a trio of rowdy (and incredibly annoying) Gryffindors. James Potter, Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lupin, everyone in school knew of them, even the ones who couldn't care less, though it was for all the worst reasons. The three were always pulling off cruel and idiotic pranks on other students, their preferred targets being pureblood slytherins. They were nothing more than over the top bullies who had no sense of boundaries, even within their own house.

Though the Marauders, and most gryffindors, often thought the problem was with Slytherin. They were after all the evil house, nothing more than obsessive purebloods who would marry a cousin before even thinking of marrying a half-blood, well that's what they thought of them anyway. Their favourite targets were a set of twins in 5th year, a year younger than them and quiet too, not many friends to talk to about being bullied either. Their targets were none other than Regulus Arcturus Black and Y/n Vulpecula Black, who tended to stick to themselves, which meant that the only friends they had were the friends of their older brother. Though Sirius nor his friends had any problem with the two kids hanging around them, especially if it meant they wouldn't be targeted by older Gryffindor students.

Unfortunately today was not a lucky day for the twins, as they were on their way to their Divination classroom a loud and obnoxious voice rang out from the end of the hallway "well if it isn't my favourite little twins" the two sped up before even looking behind them, the only thing they didn't account for was the much taller and intimidating boy who was waiting around the corner at the other end for them to approach. "What's the rush" large hands rested on their shoulders, the two stayed quiet glaring up at the boy. "Oh thanks for catching these two moony!" The short blond haired boy said with too much joy for someone so terrible. Regulus was the first to speak up "what the hell do you three want" his voice was harsh and clearly irritated "well little spitfire is that anyway to talk to upperclassmen, and to think we were going to be nice to you today" James slung his arms around them, squeezing himself uncomfortably close in-between the two kids "yeah sure, we totally believe that" the young boy bit back, shoving James's arm off himself. "You know what lads, I think we should teach these little punks how to respect their elders" Remus said, shoving the twins back around the corner. "You know moony I was thinking the exact same thing" Peter piped in, opening a closet door behind him. Of course James quickly caught on "wormtail, moony you two are genius" the brunette quickly shoved the two into the closet before casting a locking spell they wouldn't be learning until next year. The young girl was quick to bash on the door "let us out you dicks!" The tall scarred boy moved closer to the door "oh sorry little vixen, you two had your chance, we have to teach you some manners that your parents clearly aren't" she could hear the three boys laugh with each other before their voices faded out as they walked off. The young girl let off one last kick to the door before looking towards her brother "how are we supposed to get out?" She sounded defeated. Regulus was quick to move around the room, shoving things away to make space on a shelf. He grabbed a piece of parchment and his quill from his bag, he quickly wrote onto the paper before casting an enchantment on it and slid it under the door "I sent a letter to Sirius and I added a small map that'd lead him to us".

The twins sat down together, talking mindlessly about classes before ending up on the topic of who'd they take to the Yule ball "I don't think I'll actually go this time" the girls brother looked up at her "but Y/n you didn't go last year either" she just shrugged "I just don't have anyone to ask, and no one asked me last year, I doubt it'd be different" the boys shook his head "Evan seems to have taken a shine to you, I think he might ask you" Y/n let out a dry laugh "I highly doubt that Reggie, I'm sure he'd ask Barty before me" the boy was cut off before he could respond by the door slamming open. Outside stood their older brother, slightly out of breath and his curly hair a mess "are you two alright, they didn't hurt you did they, je vais les tuer" the two shook their heads "no we're fine Siri" y/n said, walking past her older brother to exit the closet "right well I'll get you two to class safely". The walk to their classroom was quick and Sirius was even quicker to try and walk off before being stopped by Regulus "oh and Sirius, try to not beat anyone up this time" he had a wolfish grin on his face that screamed trouble "I promise I won't personally lay a hand on them".

Divinations went by quickly, as did most of Y/n's classes, and lunch quickly came around. She was walking from charms class, one she happened to not share with her brother, to the great hall. On her way there she saw a few students running around her, all heading towards the courtyard, yelling about some kind of fight. At first Y/n thought it was just another duel between two students, that was until she got closer and heard the violent sounds of skin hitting skin. She pushed through the crowd hoping her worried thoughts wouldn't be true, unfortunately they were very true. Fighting in the middle of the courtyard stood none other than the Marauders fighting with Sirius and his Friends, Barty, Evan and another pureblood slytherin girl he was close with, Sabrina Sallow. Well it was more Sirius watching his friends beat up the Marauders then anything, he stood there, leant up against a tree with a bright grin on his face "you know I would give nothing more then to bash your heads in for what you three did, unfortunately though I made a promise not to lay a hand on any of you". Y/n could at least give him that, the thing about Sirius is that he always kept his word, he also always found a way around the things he'd promise. The fight was pretty brutal to Y/n, the fights she was used to were sanctioned duels, not something so muggle like. She had seen them all do horrible stuff that'd bruise or scar, they scratched and punched and pulled on hair, Y/n was even sure she had seen Barty bite Peter on the hand. It carried on for a bit longer until the terrifying voice of Professor McGonagall rang throughout the courtyard "what on earth are you all doing!" The six fighting students all pulled themselves up, a bit of shoving here and there "my office now, all seven of you" none of them made even a sound of disagreement as they trudged off to her office. As they walked off, Sirius saw Y/n in the sea of students, giving her a thumbs up before continuing on. "The rest of you clear out, I'm sure you all have much better things to do" once she left the students were quick to disperse, now there was no longer anything entertaining going on, a few lingered to continue their lunch outside. Y/n though went off to find her twin, to tell him about what she just witnessed.

Y/n was quick to find her brother, sitting in their usual spot under a large tree in a normally empty courtyard. The girl quickened her pace slightly at the sight of him, when she reached him she practically threw herself onto the bench "you will not believe what just happened" Regulus looked up from the book he was writing in "oh, did you find James snogging a boy again?" The girl rolled her eyes at her brother "no not this time, it was actually to do with Sirius" he closed his book, placing it back into his bag "was he the one snogging a boy" Y/n hit him on the arm slightly "will you stop talking about boys snogging each other, no I saw Sirius in a fight, a physical one, well sort of, it's was his friends actually, they were fighting those stupid Marauders and he was watching" his eyes grew wide "he did what, did he get hurt!" Y/n shook her head, smiling at her twins worry for their older brother "no he didn't get hurt, they all got into trouble though, with professor McGonagall" Regulus sighed "of course they did, I'm sure they will all be stuck in detention for months" he stood up pulling his book bag over his shoulder "do you want to go find Sirius and the others, we can either congratulate them for their stupid bravery…" he paused for a few seconds mulling over his options "or we could go reprimand them for getting in trouble" Y/n beamed up at the now standing boy "you know what, that sounds wonderful Reggie". She wrapped her hand around his arm, quickly pulling him in the direction of the Slytherin common room, hoping that Sirius would be there.

The twins arrived at the common room, their heads darting around the students inside before landing on the group they were hoping to find. They all sat by the large fireplace, and despite just getting in trouble they all held prideful looks on their faces as they talked about how many hits they got in. The two approached the group, sitting down on one of the open couches. "You know you're all unbelievably stupid right?". The four teens looked over at the younger students "yeah but we won though didn't we lads" barty said slightly shaking Evan who was sitting next to him, Sabrina and Evan were quick to agree. Sirius though just looked over at his siblings smiling "I couldn't just let them get away with what they did" they both smiled at him "We appreciate that Siri but you can't keep getting in trouble for us" it was obvious to both his siblings that Regulus was worried about Sirius, even if he would never admit that. "Well you look like you need to rest, that adrenalin will wear off soon and you three will be in a whole lot of pain". Barty, who was always over dramatic, threw himself over the twins "tell me doctor, will I live to see another day" his Scottish accent thick in his fake tone of sadness. Y/n lent down to make eye contact with the lanky teen "not if you keep biting people, you feral boy" he laughed as the girl shoved him off. "She's right though you lot should head to the medical wing, I'll make sure they get to class alright" Barty stayed laying on the sofa until Sabrina and Evan dragged him off

[xmdart]

HIHI I sorta just went down the olileandre rabbit hole and I have questions now 🙈 (if u don't mind!!) I was curious, what were their first impressions of each other?? Did they always like each other or were they like "ew Gryffindor/Slytherin"

OH MAN HI!!! omg ofc i don't mind. i'd literally pay people to listen to me talk about these two lmao

(also just to make it clear, my au is basically HL without the ancient magic because i just wanted all the npcs to be normal kids and just have fun with their classmates lol. also i don't care about ancient magic and none of my ocs are ancient magic wielder. but most importantly so Oliver and Leander could live their love story in peace LMAO, i did keep a few things from the game tho but anyways)

Oliver got transfered to Hogwarts from Beauxbatons in 5th year so the first time Leander saw Oliver was at the sorting hat ceremony. I think Leander instantly became enamored with Oliver because he thought he was so pretty and was definitely praying the latter would get sorted into gryffindor. Too bad for him, Oliver got sorted into slytherin and he was pretty disappointed (because most if not all his past crushes were slytherins and all left him disappointed one way or another.) I don't think he actually hates slytherins because I made him and Imelda best friends, so it's more like light hearted rivalry (he often jokes that she's 'one of the good ones' lol) BUT I DIGRESS .

The first time Oliver saw Leander was in DADA class when he almost got crushed by the dragon skull and it was most definitely love at first sight (or infuation at first sight, whatever you wanna call it). I think Oliver found his scared face so cute and ... he might just have a thing for losers I think (I say as his creator lmao but i think Leander's a loser and that's what I love so much about him). And from then on, Oliver has never stopped wanting to know more about Leander and getting closer to him. He's not the type to care about houses, he doesn't care about his or anyone else's like you'll never hear him be like .. 'yeah slytherins are so much better than everyone else blabla', like I imagine his peers judging him during Quidditch tournaments because most of the time he'll be cheering for his friends' houses or (most of the time) Leander gryffindors. for obvious reasons....

Their bond took a bit of time to form because they were both attracted to each other but neither would make a first step towards the other. Leander because he had already given up hope before anything could even start, and he was also in denial because he didn't realla wanna fall in love with another slytherin. Oliver was a bit too shy to go talk to Leander so he'd just admire him from afar and ask literally everyone and their friends about Leander to learn more about him instead of actually hitting him up lol. The thing is Oliver is very friendly and loves skinship so there was a time where Leander simply thought Oliver didn't like him because Oliver would greet all his friends with a kiss and Leander wouldn't get any (BECAUSE OLIVER WAS TOO EMBARRASSED TO GO UP TO HIS CRUSH AND KISS HIM GOODMORNING ((the french way))). It got solved real quick thanks to Imelda who simply asked out loud why Oliver wouldn't greet Leander the way he did with everyone and Oliver answered he didn't know if Leander was okay with that, to which Leander answered he's more than okay with being kissed good morning.

From then on it's smooth sailing until 3 months into knowing each other, Oliver confesses to Leander and, being the oblivious dumbass he is, Leander doesn't realize Oliver's telling him he's in love with him and tells him he likes him too (in a buddy way). So Oliver takes a step back because maybe he's falling too hard and too fast and he doesn't want to give out his heart to someone who doesn't feel the same. So a few weeks pass by where Leander does realize at some point Oliver is avoiding him and he isn't sure why. Leander seeks Oliver out and they talk about it because he's in love too, as much as he tries to deny it. And Oliver kinda has to blame his homesickness on why he was acting distant (which is only a half lie. he had to leave his homeland and be transfered last minute so he gets very easily homesick throughout his first year at Hogwarts + other lore related reasons)

NOW the misunderstanding is cleared out and their friendship can continue blooming into something more. hopefully. spoiler alert it obviously becomes something more . They absolutely adore each other and they're best friends before they're lovers. At no point do they dislike each other, not even when Leander thought Oliver didn't like him back then. He was just bummed the pretty new boy wouldn't kiss him goodmorning like he would with literally everyone else 😂

Okay I may have said more than you asked but well... it ain't my fault I'm obsessed with them. I rarely go into detail because I always feel the need to illustrate what I want to talk about so,, this was nice.

Thank you so much for asking!! 💖🫶💖💖💖💖💖🫶🫶🫶💖🥰😘

TL;DR

[bluespiritpaintedlady]

Chapter 4 Excerpt

I didn’t have any music or pics to go along with this chapter so I’ll just throw up an excerpt. I struggled with this chapter. I needed to give some background on the main OC, Anastasia, like at least some kind of glimpse into why she was the way she was. But I struggled with how to write it/present it. I feel like its one of my weaker chapters but is still necessary to understanding who she is. Ugh. I hate it when I suck… 😫😭 It’s also hard to do a stand-alone chapter about an OC that the readers are probably not yet invested in. Maybe I should just change that…. *in deep thought* Yeah, I might later change up the chapter structure a little and pop this in later. That’s what he said. Ugh. Ok, if you don’t like the chapter please keep reading tho! Haha You definitely don’t want to miss ch. 5 *tantalizes you*

*Shoots self*

Anyway, this chapter, gives a bunch of “slices” of her life. Spanning from youth to grown woman. The excerpt I’ll put up here is from when she was 13 (2002). And it also gives just a taste of her “wonderful” relationship with her mother… Without further ado. :)

From: Love Endures on Ao3

All she wanted in the world was someone who would cherish her, someone who would reallylove her.

Then she met Andy.

————————————-

August 20-27, 2002

————————————-

She was 13, at a week-long festival, surrounded by thousands of people, when she came across a drop-dead gorgeous skater boy with green hair who had travelled from the other side of the country to be there. She immediately fell for him. 

For whatever reason he actually liked her. She couldn't understand why, but it made her feel like the most special girl in all the world. He didn’t treat her badly or ridicule her. He wasn’t ashamed to be seen with her. For 4 days they were an item and she was happier than she’d ever been before. Finally, someone loves me!, she thought. She experienced her first french kiss with him, which she performed horribly at. He still kissed her anyway, he still liked her anyway and he still took her back to his tent and took her virginity, anyway.

It was painful. He was very long, she was very small and very tight. She didn’t enjoy it, but all she cared about was being loved by him. He fucked me! He must love me, she thought. In her youthful naivety, sex equalled love. I mean why would two people have sex unless they loved each other? That’s how she saw it and she held on tight to those feelings. Then just like that, he was gone. 

The festival ended and he left to go back home, on the other side of the country. She never saw him again. She knew this would happen, though. She didn’t hold it against him. There was no way around it. Instead she held on to a fantasy in her mind of love and feeling grown up and perhaps being just a tad better than the other girls around her who were all still boring virgins.

And so when she had a chance to brag about it, a coupla days later, to some of her girlfriends who also happened to go to church with her, she did.

“Guess what I did at the LoveFest? I had sex with a super hot guy”.

She expected adoration or awe, but instead they played it cool, like it was no big deal.

“Oh yeah, wow”. Then as soon as she left their presence, they sold her out to their parents, who then told her mother… They weren’t aware of just how much they had fucked her life.

——————————-

August 29th, 2002

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She sits in the passenger seat of the car. Slumped over and straining to the side; trying to put as much physical distance between her and her mother as possible. She didn’t want her mom to see her tears. She looked out the window, watching the heavy gray clouds, pregnant with rain, passing by, getting darker by the second.  She turns her head slightly more frontward but brings her left hand up to rest on the side of her face to maintain the necessary barrier. 

She watched the illuminated red lights steadily moving along with her. Her eyes darted over to the oncoming side of the highway and saw the sparkling white headlights, zipping in and out of each other. A tear slides down her cheek. She looks up and sees a VW billboard looming above them. It said simply, in large bold white letters, <i>Fahrvergnügen</i>. It hurt her heart when her eyes landed on it. It was one of the few things that she and her mother had enjoyed as a joke between them in the past.

There were so few times when her mother would let down that hard icy exterior toward her daughter, so when it happened, no matter how silly or stupid it was, Anastasia’s heart grabbed ahold of it with all she had. She cherished it each and every time. They were like little puffs of air when you were choking from the lack of it; like a few cool drops of water on a parched and grateful tongue.

This one in particular was a silly one that whenever they passed the sign, her mom would make a silly face and say the very hard to pronounce German word and Anastasia would try to do the same and then they would laugh together. An instant lifting of weight off the shoulders, a laugh. Amazing what medicine it could be for the soul. But, this day it was not so. There were no laughs coming, no smiles, not even a verbal recognition of it. It came into her vision and she watched in silence as it flew past them.

“You slut! You disgust me”, her mother barked out at her suddenly.

What could she say? She could not, she could only sit and feel the hot tears pool and then spill over the side and fall down, down, down.

“I mean you’re 13, Anastasia! God, and at a Bible function at that? What if you’d gotten pregnant? What the hell were you thinking?”

She remained silent. She was still blocking her face from her mother so she didn’t see as her mother’s hand came flying at her full-force. She took the blow without response. She wouldn’t allow herself to yelp or show her any weakness.

“ANSWER ME!”, she shouted.

Anastasia flinched and pulled her head tighter to the window.

“I…I…don’t…”

“Don’t give me that. You weren’t raped were ya? So you knew what you were doing. You wanted to do it. Why?”

“Mommmm, I don’t kn-“

“STOP IT!”, she yells again and Anastasia flinches again as well. She’s never done with well with screaming.

“You’ve brought shame on our family. I wish…” she trails off, never finishing her sentence.

You’d never had me?, she finished her Mother’s sentence in her head. Well, that makes two of us, doesn’t it? Because I wish I’d never been born. If only your wishes could be granted. I’d gladly leave this shit show of a life. What did I do in a past life to deserve this, anyway?

“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry…”

She dissolves into sobs. She can’t keep the weakness in any longer. She’s only human, after all, and a broken one at that. 

Not another word is spoken for the rest of the trip home. The mother allows her bitterness and embarrassment to coalesce within her heart, while Anastasia is consumed by sadness and shame.

Why am I soooo evil? Always. What is wrong with me??

More tears fall down. But her shame quickly morphs into hatred. 

This fucking bitch. Who does she think she is? I fucking hate you! 

Of course she was too afraid of her Mother to ever actually voice any of the dark angry things she thought. Fear kept her in check, always. Instead of releasing the daggers out towards her Mother, she allowed them to all turn inward, puncturing herself repeatedly, bloody, not able to hold much of anything inside after a while, and certainly not love, if she ever even experienced it. It simply seeped out of her. She left behind any good feelings she had towards her Mother, and along with it any hope of love or reconciliation between them, ever growing.

[sea-of-dandelions]

for whoever you want!

💀 If they were one of the 7 sins, what sin would they be?

💘 What kind of person is their ideal type?

🎁 What kind of gift would they give at birthdays?

👹 How much patience does you OC have? Are they patient? Or are they easily irritable?

☠ How petty are they? And what length of pettiness would they go for?

🔪 (More than one OC) If your all of your OCs played among us, who'd be the best imposter? And who'd be the worst?

🛌 What kind of sleep schedule does your OC have?

🍽 What kind of food do they like?

~🍁

for Kasimir and Quinn !! the fontaine kids lmao

💀 - If they were one of the 7 sins, what sin would they be?

this took a sec, but Kasimir would be greed he puts himself and his work above others, hence why he's in dragonspine in the first place. his work is his priority. it's for their own good. someone is bound to get hurt, that's just how it is. especially if they want to get in the way of that.

Quinn would be pride he doesn't allow for people to point out his flaws or mistakes. he's the best at what he does, anything conflicting that is slanderous. something to undermine him.

💘 What kind of person is their ideal type?

prefacing this with Kasimir should not be in a relationship and he doesn't want to be in one. his type is someone loyal and independant. someone that doesn't want constant attention and is okay with quality time spread out in bursts. he wants someone to come home to. he wants to rely on them, know they'll always be there for him, no matter how many miles they are apart.

Quinn's type is just. someone that will be his personal cheerleader. support means the world to him, honestly. someone energetic, maybe a bit teasing. someone that'd proclaim their love without hesitation. and for the days when he needs it, someone that can distract him. the affection he recieves would of coursr be returned, less verbally and more physically though. someone that he could spend hours with. canon down bad for Lyney btw.

🎁 What kind of gift would they give at birthdays?

I don't believe Kasimir has given a gift to someone personally in years. actually. but! he'd give something very personalized, can be quite unorthodox too. not the type you'd probably want to open in front of others yk. never know what it could be. he puts a lot of thought into gifts, and he wants to make sure his gift is enjoyed. he gives useful gifts.

similarly, Quinn gives consumable gifts. something that'd make you happy. something from your favourite bakery, or maybe concert tickets for your favourite band. 50/50 on experiences or things, he loves both. he wants you to have fun, especially on a special occasion.

👹 How much patience does you OC have? Are they patient? Or are they easily irritable?

as laid back as he is, Kasimir isn't all that patient. pretty irritable !! the best he can give you is to hold his tongue. upsides of isolating yourself on a mountain; you don't have to work with people. he doesn't get irritated often, but it happens pretty easily.

Quinn is very patient !! unless you're trying to correct him or explain something to him. then he'd snap. very easily, might i add. he doesn't raise his voice, but he'd still be quite. passive aggressive. but otherwise it doesn't happen, it's very very hard to get them to snap any other way. (this is why he and kasimir would hate each other btw)

☠ How petty are they? And what length of pettiness would they go for?

Kasimir isn't petty at all. quite the opposite, actually. he genuinely just does not give a shit. to a fault ig

Quinn isn't petty either. with... certain exceptions. trivial things don't concern him all too much. he takes them into consideration, but nothing really gets blown out of proportion.

🔪 (More than one OC) If your all of your OCs played among us, who'd be the best imposter? And who'd be the worst?

Åsa would be the best imposter. she's unassuming too, which works to her advantage. with her line of work, being conscious of your demeanor is. a necessity.

the worst is Quinn. doesn't want to be imp + very easy to read, not a very sucessful combination. scared of killing, doesn't like the adrenaline rush

🛌 What kind of sleep schedule does your OC have?

Quinn goes to bed before midnight (unless he needs to finish smth, then he stays up as long as he needs to) and wakes up a few hours later. he has a lot of trouble falling asleep and staying asleep yk. he spends more time lying awake in bed than actually sleeping. he doesn't get up that early though, probably closer to 8 or so

Kasimir tends to stay up late and wake up around noon. definitely does not get 8 hours, but it doesn't affect him that much. he swears he's fine

🍽 What kind of food do they like?

Kasimir likes sweets! anything that's sweet actually. his favourite thing growing up was wolfhook berry juice. it's been years since he's had it though

honestly, Quinn likes anything with cheese on it. he's a port salut kinda person, prefers mild semi-soft cheeses plain. but if it's on something, he'll enjoy it regardless of the type.

ask game !!

[wiypt-writes]

Consciousness Of Guilt

Chapter 1

Summary: It’s a year since Ransom was murdered, and you’re settling well into your new life in Boulder. It hasn’t just provided you with a fresh start-it’s brought you a new sense and purpose, an appreciation for the things you took fore grated, and the friendship of a former ADA…

Warnings: Bad Language, allusions to past abuse (Non Con/Dub Con) but nothing explicitly described in this chapter.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar the reader and any other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

W/C: 5k

Consciousness Of Guilt Masterlist // Main Masterlist

A/N- So, here it is! The sequel to Murder, He Wrote . This is the last time I’ll post this note, however, please be aware that the prequel is a Dark series. Whilst this is not, it will contain flashbacks and themes as we progress, however nothing will be as dark as MHW. Chapters will be clearly labelled with appropriate warnings. If anyone is uncomfortable with the themes of a certain chapter, I will be more than happy to post/provide abridged versions which will not deviate from the storyline.

Sunrise. You used to hate the coming of each day. It meant another monotonous day in your young adult life. A 'depends on the day' type of job at the paper in which you got your start, it meant earning little for the slave work you put into each piece or research. It meant another day you'd woken up in fear, not knowing what was coming next. Then, for a little while, sunrises were okay. They were a soft glow across the room, illuminating hard lines and soft curves, whispering words and lingering kisses. And then, they became fearful again, bringing the unpredictable nature of a life in which you were trapped.

But now, over the last few months, since taking up your new hobby, sunrise had become a beautiful thing. The feeling of peace and comfort washing over you like a warm rain, bringing the redeeming nature of a new day as vibrant watercolours paint the new-born sky. Whether you caught it from the East side of your condo; your master balcony and study or your garden, or even your hikes, you appreciated every, single sunrise as if you were seeing it for the first time ever, each and every day.

For this morning's sunrise, you were perched along Boulder Creek Path, a trail that runs from the foothills to across town, a typical recreational getaway for many locals and tourists. You looked out over the bridge as the creek flowed beneath your feet. You were lost in the serenity of it, the bubbling water lulling your mind into a deep mediation that washed peacefulness through your entire body.

A year ago today, your life changed and you were freed. Free of the nightmare that had plagued you, robbing you of nearly a year of your life. The months that followed weren't so easy, but once things settled and the fires were extinguished, you found peace.

You found you.

Your phone buzzing in your pocket brought you back from your reverie, pressing your thumb onto the screen to unlock it. You opened your messages tab and tapped the most recent incoming text.

A smile flicked on your face as you slipped your phone back in your pocket. It didn’t escape your knowledge how Andy didn’t need to even ask what coffee you wanted. But then again, this wasn’t the first time you’d had breakfast in the small, independent coffee place not far from your home and place of work. You knew when you arrived that a large caramel vanilla latte, with an extra shot would be waiting. But no food, your order varied depending on your mood.

Twenty minutes or so later, you parked your sting-grey Jeep Grand Cherokee SRT 4x4 back in your garage to your condo at the corner of 9th and Pine Street and set off on the short ten minute walk to your designated meeting place, centred near the town square, not far from your office which was a gorgeous old red-brick building on the corner of 16th and Walnut Street.

As you approached, you didn’t spot Andy’s black Audi TT in any of the spaces littered around but it didn’t bother you. Barber was reliable, if he said he was going to be there, he’d be there.

And sure enough, as you walked along the side of the cafe you, spotted him at your usual, preferred table by the large window, overlooking the street. He saw you approaching and smiled, giving a small wave.

The smell of roast coffee beans, baked treats and other delicious aromas hit your senses as you opened the door. You approached the table and Andy stood up to great you, smiling. A light grey tee sat exposed under a partially zipped up light weight blue leathered hoodie whilst dark and crisp denim covered his narrow hips and long legs, his go to well-worn black work boots on his feet. His hair was styled and soft looking, his beard always trimmed and neat. He gave you a strong, yet gentle hug, a juxtaposition he managed effortlessly before he turned and waited for you to sit first before he took up his previous seat, nodding to your waiting drink.

“Thank you.” You beamed at him, taking a quick sip. "Of course." He smiled as he took a drink of his own coffee, straight black, before he leaned back a little. His left arm rested over the back of the booth bench, the platinum of his wedding ring catching the early morning sun which streamed through the window. You momentarily glanced at your own hand, bare of the heavy rings which had been taken in the ‘mugging’. Mind you, you wouldn’t be wearing them even if you still had them. Your story was a lot different to his.

“So, where'd you go this morning?" his soft baritone drifted across the table and you glanced back at him. "Fiddled around down Boulder Creek Path." "You seem to be getting around better now." "Yeah, thank God for GPS. Did I tell you that last week I was looking for some store Amber vaguely told me where about it was and ending up like thirty minutes down the highway towards Denver." He laughed, his whole body smiling, radiating genuine amusement. "You have more faith in GPS than me, when I first moved here I got pulled over for going the wrong way down a one way street because it told me to.” You grinned as he shook his head. "And that annoying voice! I want to wring her damn neck." You gave a chuckle but before you could reply, the middle-aged woman, who owned the café, interrupted you both with her usual familiar greeting and the smile she reserved for Andy. “Hey Patti, how are ya?” He smiled back. “Same old, same old.” She winked back. “What can I get you kids today?” “Y/N?” Andy looked at you and you smiled. “Can I get an almond croissant and a granola pot, please? With the blueberry compote.” “Sure honey, and for you Mr Barber?”

“French toast please, all the trimmings.”

A fizzing filled your ears as you were suddenly back on a clinically clean, modern kitchen, nervously scouring a fridge and cupboards for something to make your captor breakfast with. You swallowed, taking a deep breath, counting backwards from five as you always did to keep the memory from swallowing you.

“Hey,” a gentle touch to your hand jolted you back and you looked at Andy who frowned. “You okay?” "Yeah, no, I mean yes, I'm okay. It just…it dawned me this morning that this was the best thing I could have done for myself. Like there's just a newfound peace that's settled with me, you know?" He just smiled as he squeezed your hand before slipping his away. “Yeah, I do.” No more was said about it, and Andy didn’t press. He never did. In the eight weeks or so that had passed since you’d met him that Friday evening in the bar, the pair of you had struck up a friendship that was based on a mutual understanding. You both carried a heavy burden of a traumatic past on your shoulders, but you had an unspoken rule. He had never mentioned Ransom. And you, in turn, never broached the subject of Laurie or Jacob. You understood you were both moving on with your life, both wanting to heal from the past and you wanted to spend the rest of your life never in fear again. Instead, a simple chatter always flowed between the two of you, and today was no exception. You barely stopped to thank Patti for dropping your order off at the table. Current work was never a topic of conversation, although office gossip featured on occasion, but mostly it was always about happenings around town, him asking about you, your parents and your old job, the two of you talking about your favourite places in Boston. You never missed certain facial and eye cues Andy gave off at the mention of certain things, but when you saw them, that sag in his smile or the far off look his eyes would give, you'd change the subject. You ate in comfortable companionship and after another coffee, Andy asked for the bill and then pulled out his card to pay. "Next one is on me, you paid for the last two and coffee all this week." You gave him a stern look as you headed towards the exit. “Well, if you wanted you could grab us a beer later.” He shrugged, pulling the door handle to open it, allowing you to step out before him. “I gotta nip into the office for a coupla hours but...” "Breakfast AND drinks?" You smiled as he fell into step beside you. The July day was starting to warm a little now, the slight chill of the early morning all but gone. “If I didn't know any better, I'd say you actually like hanging out with me." “Well, I wouldn’t go that far. I just find you slightly less irritating than everything and everyone else.” He teased and you laughed. “So... Happy hour?" "Yeah." You nodded “It's a date." Andy confirmed and you quirked your eyebrow, trying not to laugh at the look on his face as he realised what he had said. “A date?” “Well, I don’t mean a date date but...” You felt the heat in your neck a little, so to save your embarrassment and his blushes, you smiled, "it's a date-not-date. Say Oskar’s, 6:30?" "Oskar’s." He confirmed. "I'll save you a tall, cold one." “You’re an angel, you know that?” "I wouldn't go that far. My halo is held up by horns” “Even Prometheus was an angel at some point, Y/N.” He replied as you reached the corner of the street where you would part. Him towards the office, you back home. You rolled your eyes and shook your head. "I'll see you tonight." At that he gave you another quick hug, his hand rubbing your back over the top of your light jacket before you headed your separate ways.

You enjoyed the walk home. It gave you the perfect chance to just mellow out and walk off a bit of your breakfast. You tucked your hands into the pockets for your vest, your white thermal keeping your arms covered. You headed down Pearl Street, watching as the little shops and boutiques began to set up their patios and side walk spaces for their Saturday. You took in the clean fresh mountain air deep into your lungs and allowed a warm smile to cross your lips. 

From Pearl to 9th you went, hooking a right up 9th until you walked to the corner of Pine, and onto the porch of the nice and spacious condo you closed escrow on just weeks ago. 

That deep feeling of home greeted you as you stepped inside, wiping your boots on your door mat just before kicking them off and setting them by the back door you’d come through. The cream walls invited you in, the oak furniture and fixtures, a feature that reminded you of home, the decor you grew up with, a safe place. 

You'd bought the condo outright with the money you'd inherited from Ransom's untimely death and subsequent estate. You knew before you'd even stepped foot into the property initially, that it'd become yours. The week you closed escrow, you and your parents moved you into the three bedroom, three and a half bath condo, never looking back. 

The open floor plan and panoramic views had stolen your breath and it was then, the first night your parents had left you alone, too anxious to sleep alone, you had fallen in love with the sunrise, seeing it from your front garden patio, bundled up with tea and a wool blanket. All three rooms in the space had no adjoining walls and their own en-suites. The master bedroom, your room, was massive. An en-suite with walk in shower, soaking tub and Jack and Jill sinks. Two walk in closets that you knew you'd probably never fill completely, an Eastwardly view and balcony. The two spare rooms, were separated, one on the second floor down the hall from yours where it's balcony looked West, as it were above the garage and the third on the top and final floor with its own balcony. That was your office space, a spot for you to work and to breathe in the fresh air. 

Everything in that condo was yours, down to the logs you'd put in your fireplace and the silly little amenities you'd given yourself from knickknacks to the colour of your dishes. There was one space however you left untouched. And only your parents had been inside to pack away your unused things as storage space. That room was your basement. You didn't need to go down there, you figured if you needed something from there, you'd go buy it anyway. All that was truly stored down there anyway were things from your childhood your mother insisted on you bringing along.

As if her ears were burning, your phone buzzed from your back pocket, revealing your mother calling. 

"Hey, Mom." You answered. 

"Hi, honey. I was just calling to see how you were doing. Check in on you." You could hear the worry in her voice and you couldn't help but smile. 

"I'm really good, Mom. It’s been good here." "You still hiking every day?" She sounded hopeful now.  "Lately it's just been on the weekends. I've been really busy at work, which isn't exactly a bad thing either." You had made your way to your room, looking for some lounge pants to change into while you continued your conversation.  "Well, busy is a blessing. Do you have anything planned for today or...."  "Uh, well I just had breakfast with a friend from work who I'm also meeting for drinks later." You smirked at the thought.  There was a joyful sigh that poured into your ear from the ear piece, "Oh, this friend wouldn’t happen to be the mysterious Andy you’ve name dropped the last few calls would it?"  You hesitated, "y..ye...yeah." Then you heard the tell-tale sound of your mother's chuckle. “We’re just friends.” "I'm not saying anything." You could picture her with her hands held up in defence. "You sound happy." “I am. I feel okay, more than okay even. I’m good.” "Alright. Well, don’t waste your day. Enjoy it. Your dad and I will talk soon." “Yeah, listen Mom, why don’t you come over for a few days in a couple of weeks? You’ve not been since the week you came to help me move in. It would be nice to show you round now I’ve got my bearings.” "We would love that. I'll have your father look at booking some time." “Okay just let me know. Tell Daddy I said hi.” "I will, sweetie. Love you, bye.” "I love you too, Mom, bye." The seventeenth of July, a date that you hope one day will come to mean nothing and be like any other day. But for now, it was a sting that reminded you of all that had happened. Not unlike Halloween, a day in which you'll forever hold in a fearful anxious place in your soul. It served as a reminder of the moment your life had taken a very dark turn, a darkness that you were still, in a lot of ways, finding your way through. Ransom. His name still tasted sour on your tongue. But left a sadness over your heart like a sheer curtain. You had truly hoped he wasn't going to revert back to the beast that held you captive. But you were wrong, and post the revelation of the real reason he had taken you, he’d been far more brutal and cruel than he had with you before, something you’d thought was impossible. And he’d broken you for a second time, or so you’d let him think. Desperate to escape his clutches, you’d done the only thing you could- you’d killed him. Whilst you may not have held the knife, you’d arranged it all. And, even though it had been an absolute last resort, you’d be lying if you said there hadn’t been a satisfaction to watching him bleed out and choke on his own blood. The realisation that had clouded his arrogantly handsome features as he came to understand it was your doing would be forever etched into your brain. That said, it made you feel a little bit queasy when you thought about how taking someone’s life could make you feel a sick sense of pleasure. The nightmares had plagued you for months after. The torture which sleep brought you only ceased around the time things were settled within the system between you and his parents. With a deep sigh and the need for distraction, you set about some spot cleaning in between loads of laundry and by early afternoon you had settled in on your couch with a beer and your latest box set binge. Not two episodes in and your phone pinged next to you.

With a smirk, you snapped a photo of your beer bottle in your hand and a few moments later his response came through.

The angel made you laugh, a direct reference to his teasing before. But before you could reply, you got another text with simply saying “fuck it” along with a picture of a tumblr of whiskey on his desk. With a snort you replied

With a smile you tossed your phone down onto the seat beside you, and resumed your watching.

***** Andy was kidding when he playfully said he'd be there by 6:45, fully intending on their agreed upon 6:30. But, he was late. He'd been so involved with his brief that he'd lost track, and for the first time since meeting her, was late for a meet up with Y/N. She was fully understanding as he'd text her apologizing for the time as he'd rushed out of the office and quickly headed for Pearl Street. He'd gotten very lucky with close parking and literally stepped inside Oskar's Taproom promptly at 6:45. He found Y/N sitting at the bar, her hair down, a nicely fitted black tee and skinny denim jeans, her foot tapping against her bar stool in waiting. Next to her was an empty stool and a full, cold looking tall pilsner on the bar, saving his space.

"Hey," he said as he leaned into her, a gentle hand on her back, getting her attention.

Y/N startled a bit but realized it was Andy and grinned, "'bout time! I was going to get started on yours without you." She nodded to the cold beer.  “I’m so sorry.” He shook his head, “I just got caught up.” "Well, you haven't stood me up yet, so I trusted you'd show." “And I did tell you 6:45 before. You know, on account of you being a cheeky little shit.” She rolled her eyes at him, "whatever." She smirked. He slid onto the stool next to her and took a long pull of his beer, damned it tasted good. He gave an appreciative sigh and turned to her. “So, do anything much this afternoon?” "I did absolutely nothing, well nothing of importance. Talked to my mom, did laundry, you know nothing exciting." “To be honest, sounds like a pretty good afternoon.” He chuckled. “Sometimes there’s nothing better than laying in front of the TV with no where you have to be.” "Cheers to that," she raised her glass to him. He clinked his with hers and returned the smile she had. The blues band that was set to play happy hour was starting to tune up and it gave Andy an idea. "What do you say we find a spot in the patio, little less noise." “Sounds good.” She nodded. Andy flagged the bartender down for another round to take with them. But before Y/N could pick up her glass, Andy took it for her and gestured with her head for her to go on in front. She looked a little surprised at his act of basic good manners, and not for the first time. He'd often seen her look at him in a similar way when he held doors open for her or helped her with her jacket. It made him wonder what kind of asshole Drysdale had been. But, then again, he got the impression it hadn’t been a particularly happy relationship to start. Not that it was any of his business, nor was he one to talk. The last seven months he’d been married to Laurie had been as strained as they'd ever got. They found a spot at a two top near the corner of the patio at the gate that separated it from the sidewalk. Andy waited for Y/N to sit before he set their glasses on the high top table and took his own seat. "So...much better," he leaned in across the table. "Love this place, but it's not always the best for conversation." “Yeah but it has a good atmosphere.” She smiled. “I like it. Not the type of place that-“ she stopped dead and took a deep breath. “Doesn’t matter.” He half smiled, "you know, I've been meaning to tell you, it's okay to talk to me about anything you want. No pressure, no strings. Just a friendly ear." She smiled. “I know, thanks. And the same goes for you too.” For the first time, an interesting silence came between them. They each sipped their drinks in an almost a mirrored like fashion and chuckled when through. "I think that's the first time we've ever not had something to say." Y/N shrugged. He nodded, and then she took a deep breath. “I was just gonna say its not the type of place Ransom would ever have taken me. He’d have thought it beneath him.” "I think that's the first time you've ever mentioned his name." He pointed out. "Yeah, I try not to. It's uh," he watched her as she struggled to start her story, playing nervously with the earring in her ear. "Complicated." He leaned on the table, his forearms crossed and supporting his weight. He wanted her to know she had his full attention. “Well, from what I know about him, which granted is only what I saw on the news or heard around Boston, he certainly enjoyed the finer things in life.” "That's one way of looking at." She chuckled dryly. "It wasn't an easy marriage, despite how short lived." "Well, I was with Laurie since law school and we still had our ups and downs. I don't think marriage is easy in general." Andy admitted. "I was with Ransom less than nine months before we got married. It, uh, lasted three weeks."

Andy paused, “okay, so granted Laurie and I were a whirlwind what with her falling pregnant so fast but... I’ll give you that one.” “A whirlwind?” She asked and Andy nodded. “Yeah, we hadn’t even been together a year when she got pregnant with Jake. Not gonna lie, I shit myself but...” he sighed, swallowing. “Well, he was worth it.” "I'm sure he was." She nodded. Andy cleared his throat. “He was a good kid, despite what he, well what he was accused of.” “I can’t even begin to imagine how that felt, for any of you.” She said gently. “Fucking shit.” He said bluntly. She blinked and then the pair of them laughed quietly. "I'm sorry, Andy. And I mean that in all sincerity." He sighed and gave a soft little smile. “Thanks. You know, for the most part it’s just happy memories. But then sometimes it’s hard...” he trailed off shaking his head, “but of course you’ll know that.” “Suppose so.” She shrugged. “I doubt our marriage was anything near as loving as yours. I, uh...well, Ransom was mentally abusive, very controlling. Getting married wasn't exactly what I'd wanted but, I felt trapped in a way." She paused as he listened intently. "I guess it's harder to explain than I thought." She bit her lip and then shook her head. “Then the asshole went and got himself killed.” "I hate that you had to witness that." She shrugged and her finger swiped at the condensation on the outside of her half empty beer glass. “It was a year ago today.” “Jesus fucking Christ.” Andy shook his head in shock as he took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry.” “I’m not.” She sighed. “And I know that probably sounds awful but... I don’t mourn him, I can’t. Not after everything. I’m just glad to be away and out of it. Fuck, that makes me sound like a really cold hearted bitch.” She scrunched her nose and chuckled a bit. Andy cocked his head to one side, studying her face which was, despite what she said, laced with sadness and he took a deep breath. There was more to her story than she was telling him, he could see that, but he had his own secrets too. And he found himself realising he didn’t care. Moving away post the accident that claimed Jake and later Laurie’s life had been a way for him to leave all that shit behind. And she was trying to do the same. “Okay, let’s make a deal.” He leaned forward. “No reverse gear. We look forward and not back, at least not at the hard stuff.” It took a moment for her to process it, and Andy watched her expression behind her eyes as he did so. Then she smiled, "deal." Andy smiled as she reached for her beer. He watched her pretty face as she drained her glass, setting it down in the table before she leaned towards him. “Have you eaten? Because I’ve suddenly got a hankering for something greasy and very bad for me.” “Sounds like someone I used to work with.” Andy shot before he could stop himself and Y/N threw her head back in a loud laugh. “Lawyers for you.” “Hey, not all of us are jerks.” He pouted and she shrugged. “Jury’s out.” She winked. At that Andy raised his brows, downed the rest of his pint and then stood up. “Something dirty and greasy that isn’t an attorney coming up, I’ll grab us a menu.” They each ordered a greasy, filthy cheeseburger with all the fixings and two smaller beers a piece to go with it. They moved their conversation away from their pasts and talked music as the band played some songs they were familiar with. Y/N finding the perfect moment to joke with Andy again about his age versus hers, despite it being maybe seven or eight years. Neither seemed to mind.  Again, when the bill came, Andy slapped his card down before Y/N even had a chance to grab her wallet, which caused him to laugh loudly at her pout. “You’ll just have to get it next time.” “Oh," she smirked, "so that’s your game? You paid, so I owe you a next time?” He shrugged. “Would that be such a bad thing?” She bit her lip and grinned with a shake of her head. “No, not really.” “Good, I’ll hold you to that. And, as a lawyer I feel obliged to tell you that’s a legally recognised verbal contract.” “Uh, I’m sure there’s a rule that a social agreement made between friends is done so without an intention of being enforceable.” Y/N shot back and Andy felt his mouth curl up on a little surprised smirk. “Therefore no intent, no legal comeback. Your move, Counselor.” He laughed and shook his head. “Nope, I got nothing.” “In that case, I call recess.” She grinned. “Oh faahk off with the legal puns!” Andy snorted and once more she laughed as they stood up, their night at an end. He walked behind Y/N with a gentle hand on her back as she weaved through the tables on the patio, eventually ending up on the sidewalk out front.

"Thanks, for breakfast, dinner, drinks," Y/N shook her head, feigning annoyance. Andy smirked, "thanks for meeting me. You're not walking home are you?" "I can, it's not far." She replied, folding her arms over her chest.

"Absolutely not, I'll take you," he nodded his head in the direction in which his car was. He gave a small wink when she accepted his offer. He held the door open for you as you slid into the passenger seat of his Audi TT. You quickly realized that this was the first time you'd been in his car and the very first time he would see your doorstep. However, the thought of both those things didn't bother you one bit. In fact, you found yourself more comfortable than you'd expected.

All in all the drive was no more than five minutes, and if he hadn’t been going that way already, you’d have felt like a complete fraud, but he assured you it was on his way.

You helped yourself out but Andy waited for you around the front hood and walked you to your doorstep, lit by the lantern porch light your Home Owners Association contract insisted be up. "So, this is me," you sighed. Andy had his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans and he rocked a little on his heels as he waited for you to open your front door. When you'd opened it, he scratched behind his neck and said, "so I'll see you Monday?" "Yeah," you agreed. He turned to go but you called out to him, "Hey, Andy?" He quickly turned back to you, his one foot on your stoop, the other the next step down, "yeah?" In a sudden moment of courage, you stood on your toes and placed a soft kiss to his cheek. His smooth cheek and the slightly rough yet softer than anticipated scratch of those dark whiskers, intermittent speckled with auburn, felt amazing against your lips. And fuck, did he smell amazing. Which you knew already from the tight and friendly hugs he'd seemed to start giving you. The first hit of his aftershave was always the same, dominated by a white-out of bergamot and pepper, a bright flash of sweet, dewy citrus that is both crisp and clean, underpinned by a freshness that was both light and gentle and completely different to the heavy sandalwood based fragrance you’d grown so used to. It was brief, but when you pulled back, you gave a content huff, “Huh.” “What?” He was clearly puzzled. “Your beard. It’s kinda soft.” “What? What the hell did you expect?” He laughed. “I dunno, maybe a toilet brush type bristle.” “You kiss a lot of toilet brushes Y/N?” “Try not to.” She winked. “Thanks again, Andy. I enjoyed today.” He chuckled and shook his head as he watched you turn back to your door and finally stepped inside your home. Before you closed the door, you turned back, noticing he was watching you go in. "Bye."

"Goodnight, Y/N."

**** Chapter 2

[edie-baby]

Baby Boy Chapter 1 | Lando Norris

Summary: Milana Navratilova is the best friend of Victoria Verstappen, and is for lack of a better word, a minx. She can pull anyone into bed with her at any time. So when she attends the Austrian Grand Prix with Victoria, the drivers make for good bedfellows. Until she finds a man who makes her finally feel like herself. Her baby boy.

Warnings: smut, swearing, non-con kiss (will be a chapter warning for that one), OC is a w h o r e and i love her.

Milana Navratilova sauntered into the paddock of the Austrian Grand Prix, an impressed smile curved the ends of her maroon painted lips, the dark, seductive eyes of the woman flicked between each face she passed. Those same eyes lit up in adoration when they fell on the back of her friend whom she constantly referred to as a wife. With an extra skip in her step, she pranced toward the taller girl, approaching a group of three or four men who were facing her friend, and in turn, her as well.

“Hey baby girl.” Milana greeted in a husky voice, the long nails and slim hands slid around her target’s waist, holding her in place while the rest of her body rested comfortably against her back.

“BABE!” Victoria Verstappen squealed, her arms reaching over the grasp Milana had on her waist to pull her best friend into a hug. Victoria leant back, her hands sliding along Milana’s jaw to cup her face within both hands. The two leaned in at the same time, connecting their lips in a slow kiss. The gasps of the men who Victoria was conversing with was audible over the hustle and bustle of the paddock. The women parted, giggling as they did so, hands holding tightly onto one another.

“Vic, who’s this?” The heavily accented voice of Victoria’s brother, Max, was the first to break the tension.

“This is Milana, she’s my best friend. I told you my friend Lana was coming this weekend, remember?” Victoria introduced, smiling back at her friend multiple times during.

“Yeah, I guess I just thought she’d be more like, y’know, Ella or Josie.” Max mumbed, his face a light pink colour and a very readable expression of awkwardness on his face as he watched the beautiful woman wrapped up in his sister’s arms.

“So, less like a slut?” Milana suggested, a cheeky grin on her face as Max’s face instantly went into panic mode. “Calm down, sweet cheeks, I was kidding. Mostly.” Max blushed harder at the pet name the Czech woman had given him. It wasn’t anything awfully special but falling off those lips, it sounded like heaven.

“So, uh, your name is Milana?” A French voice sounded next, cutting the awkward silence that Max had left hanging.

“That’s right, mon cherie, Milana Navratilova, ready and willing.” She added the last word with a wink and a smirk curled the right side of her dark lips at the flustered expression on the man’s face.

“Charles Leclerc, it’s a pleasure to meet you, petit friponne.” The Monegasque answered with an equally suggestive response, and from the flicker of recognition within her dark eyes, he could tell she understood the phrase he spoke.

“And you two?” Milana turned to the remaining men, there were two of them, one rather tall and the other shorter, though still a good six inches taller than herself.

“I’m George, and this is Lando.” The tall Brit could already tell that his younger friend would have trouble saying his own name in front of the woman that had completely enraptured him.

“George, aren’t you a darling. And Lando, I hate to be rather forward, but you are the most gorgeous man I have ever laid eyes on.” Milana’s voice got huskier as her sentence trailed off, her eyes taking in every detail of the young driver’s physique. The way his shoulders were pulled back and taught despite his nervousness, she could tell he was muscular beneath the white polo. As his breath caught in his throat and his body tensed, Milana could see the muscles of his arms bulging against the sleeves of said polo, the material digging into his skin due to being put under so much pressure. The tanned skin that was visible from the short sleeve allowed her to also trace the visible veins that ran down his forearms with her eyes, her mouth going dry as she imagined those veins bulging as he struggled against restraints around his wrists.

All of a sudden, a Cheshire cat-like grin spread across Milana’s lips as she turned back around to Victoria, who had been staring at her friend with amusement. The other three men stared incredulously at the short woman, who had called Lando the most gorgeous man she had seen, even after meeting George and Charles. None of them could believe the scene that was unfolding before them.

“As lovely as this has been boys, I think I need to get this hot piece of ass back to our hotel room before she starts trying to pull you three into our bed.” Victoria explained, her hand briefly coming down to smack the aforementioned ass, and she cackled with laughter as she walked away from the boys, all of whom looked like they just left Disneyworld,

“Gonna point out the obvious here boys, but she is hot.” Max growled, his eyes following the way the tight skirt hygge the curve of her ass with the swaying of the Czech’s hips. The other three nodded, entranced in a very similar fashion to their colleague.

[bratkook]

eleven months. (m) myg. two.

masterlist.

pairing: min yoongi x reader genre: fluff, slow burn!!!, eventual smut, warnings: brief non-descriptive mention of death, otherwise none word count: 7k author’s note: here’s some more backstory on both of them as well as more interaction beyond yoongi hunting down an album by the cure lmao. like i said before, i’m really soft for yoongi in this story so lmk what you think! (also..because i hate myself and love piling up wips, theres mention of oc having a previous love interest that’s actually part of another story that takes place in this universe that’s a prequel soooo...coming soon lol) taglist (open): @min-yus​ summary: it’s been years of yoongi living his routine life, accustomed to his pace of living, going with the flow and simply existing. until you come along. yoongi absolutely can not see the logic in the way you live, but he weirdly craves it. craves the feeling of not being afraid of not knowing what’s coming, being able to just let the cards fall wherever they land. and maybe you can help with that.

In the next coming weeks it becomes obvious that Yoongi is in fact a regular. His routine visits allow you to remember the usual days and times he’d pop in, so you knew if you’d be working on his chosen days. 

Somewhere in between his casual drop ins, the two of you had formed somewhat of a friendship— or the beginning stages of one at least. Yoongi liked your sense of humor, how open and friendly you were to anyone you encountered, always having something to say about anything. Conversation came easy to you, never running out of stories. It left Yoongi thinking you’ve definitely lived about ten lifetimes compared to him.

In turn, you liked how he let you steer the conversation any way you chose. Most people would probably watch on in horror at the way you’d go from talking about a specific song or band, and then switching to a story about how you chased a pickpocketer during your travels before moving on to talking about your roommate’s cat. None of it gave him whiplash though, seamlessly flowing into the next topic with a grin on his face, never feeling like he had to think too hard to keep it going. It worked best this way. Yoongi was observant by nature, a great listener above it all, so if you were the one doing most of the talking it was fine by him. 

Everyone at Rkive360 had taken notice that Yoongi’s usual five minute visits had turned into ten, and then twenty, until it became very clear he was lingering inside the store. No one told him anything, besides the fact that he was bestfriends with the owner and had immunity, all of you were fond of him. Taehyung enjoyed the sly remarks Yoongi would make, Sana just enjoyed ogling at him, Namjoon would never mind seeing him, and you would take any chance you could to attempt to wow him with your small knowledge of music. 

It was a nice distraction whenever he stopped by, always heading straight to the back where the vinyl was kept. Sometimes he had a specific album in mind, other times he was simply browsing, but he only ever bought one at a time. It was routine, maybe even a weird ritual of sorts if he really thought about it. 

On the days you knew he’d be coming you would spend a little extra time in the beginning of your shift picking out a few records to suggest to him if he didn’t have one in mind. Because of this, he had stopped his usual path to the bins and now came directly to you, the first stray off his usual routine. 

Today you’re standing behind the counter, ringing up a customer when he walks in, a smile on your face as you chat away. He patiently waits at the far corner, leaning back against it as his eyes roamed the interior of the store, taking note of the way Sana and Taehyung were trying and failing to build a giant display. It looks like a mess of parts, scattered around with no instruction manual in sight— definitely Taehyung’s idea to toss it judging by Sana’s look of frustration. 

He tears his gaze away from them beginning to argue when he hears you wish the customer a good day as they leave, pushing away from the counter and shuffling your way with a grin on his face. You smile back at the way his doughy cheeks push out, high points of them reflecting the light from above. 

“Any shirt facts of the day?”

That had also become another common occurrence. Whenever you decided to wear a band shirt, he somehow always had random facts about whoever it was. It didn’t matter if it was some obscure french band or a 90’s rapper, Yoongi knew something about everyone, like some walking encyclopedia of musical artists. So when you take a step away and spread your arms out, he sees your shirt of choice today is The Doors, and he scoffs. Too easy.

“The Doors were the first band to ever advertise a new album on a billboard.” He nods his head slowly, almost as if he’s telling you yes I know, amazing right?

A hum leaves your lips at his fun fact, slightly impressed by it. “Interesting. Like always, I did not know that.” You peek under the counter top at the selection of records you kept stowed away for him, safe from any undeserving customers. “Now, do you want to see my daily, hand picked selection just for you.”

This was his new favorite pastime, getting to see the random albums you’d group together for him, wanting to know what you thought was worthy for him to listen to. When he nods, rubbing his hands together in excitement, you haul up the stack and carefully spread them out across the top.

The genre of the day was R&B, he can tell that much as he sorts through the albums. You’re familiar with the way he clumps together certain records, marking them down as albums he already owns, until he gets to an orange colored cover. The words The Internet fill the top right corner along with Ego Death on the bottom left. This he had never heard before. He picks it up and flips it over, scanning the song names with interest.

His eyes raise up to yours with curiosity, the same sharp gaze that somehow still makes you nervous holds the obvious question being passed between you with no need for words: are they any good? And the way you nod your head immediately convinces him enough. “Alright, I’ll give them a shot.”

A small sense of pride fills your chest, a tiny victory whenever he decides to pick something from your stack, trusting whatever music knowledge you had somehow convinced him you have. “I promise you’ll love them.”

When you hand him his change and the brown paper bag, you immediately check the time and clock out, dipping back under the counter and grabbing your bag from its hidden spot.

“Are you off?” Yoongi finds himself asking, no longer used to leaving immediately after he purchased something. The usual fifteen minute conversation you two had was missing today, and he’s not too sure how he feels about that. 

“Yes I am, you were my last customer. The store will now be run by those two heathens. Here’s to hoping they don’t bite each others heads off while they finish building whatever the fuck that is.” Taehyung is now standing up, lazily holding up a part of the display as Sana tries to screw something together, angrily giving Taehyung commands but he only mimics her with a ridiculous face. And when she socks his thigh, her fist aiming a little too close to home, you let out a laugh.

Yoongi highly doubts that’s going to be possible, Namjoon would probably have to be the one left to finish building the display while also putting them on opposite sides of the store whenever he came in for the day. It was truly a shock that they had gone this long working together without an actual fist fight breaking out. If it came down to it, Yoongi had his money on Sana being able to whoop Tae’s ass. 

“Do you know any good take out spots nearby? I’m starving and I’m still new to the area so I’ll take any recommendations.” Your voice snaps him back, his eyes looking at you briefly as the question registers within him.

“Oh, yeah. There’s a place not too far from here that has pretty good jajangmyeon.”

“Hell yeah.” Your hands pat your belly softly, coming up to readjust your bag as you walk around the counter and head for the door, shouting out a goodbye to Taehyung and Sana as you leave the store. When you exit the shop, your hand holding the door open behind you, you glance back inside in confusion when you spot Yoongi still standing by the counter with wide eyes. “Well, aren’t you coming?”

Truth be told, he had been wanting to talk to you outside of work for a while but he was scared to ask, not wanting to make you feel obligated to say yes just because he was a regular at your place of employment. Something about you seemed familiar to him, and to be quite honest he just craved social intimacy. His job consumed him and coming into this record shop was the small escape he needed, you being there was just a newly added plus.

You’re on the same page he is, wanting to hang out with him just as much as he had, something about the way he seemed like a half open book interested you. Throughout all of your adventures you had forced yourself to come out of your shell, no longer afraid or bashful when it came to initiating friendships. If you wanted to get to know someone better, then you’d bite first. And you definitely wanted to get to know Yoongi better.

It takes him a moment to react, his gaze switching from you to look back over at your coworkers, seeing Sana sending you a curious glance. Yoongi was about to attempt to muster up the courage to ask you to hang out and you beat him to the punch, but after a second he grins at you with a nod. Of course he was coming.

The weather in Seoul is forgiving today, the usual cold of autumn being prevalent in the air without the need to bundle up, the slight wind not stinging your skin as it blows around you. This was probably your favorite season, comfortable enough for you to do whatever you want without feeling restricted by heavy layers or sticky from the heat. 

A soft smile is on your lips, hands shoved into the pockets of your baggy cardigan, and a small pep in your step as your eyes take in the world around you. That feeling you get when you visit a new town on vacation, how you’re just passing through for a brief moment in a place so many call home, it makes you realize how small you actually are. 

It’s a feeling you always longed for, to experience a new place and make it home, it's the main reason you always bounced around so much. Staring at all the shops around you, taking in all the people just going about their daily life, you’re content with your new choice of scenery. 

Too lost in your own head as you take in the shops and people around you, you snap out of it when Yoongi reaches out and clasps a hand on your shoulder, steering you to turn right when you keep walking straight. “Get your head out of the clouds.” 

He hears the snort you let out, allowing him to guide you the correct way. Slowly trailing away from the main road, the amount of people lessens, only a handful of stores line up around the alley you had turned into. When you spare a glance at Yoongi you can see the excitement on his face, speeding up his pace until he’s standing in front of the restaurant. It’s a small hole in the wall shop that didn’t even look like it served food from the outside, all black exterior with a red sign hung up on top showcasing their name, Ipum.

It’s charming, and the way Yoongi spreads his arm out puts a similar smile on your face. Only then does he pull open the door, allowing you to step in first before he follows. 

Once Yoongi steps inside he’s immediately greeted by the workers calling out his name in glee, bowing in response with a bashful smile as he approaches the small counter set up for take out orders, not needing to read the menu. You don’t realize he’s waiting for you as you take in the interior of the restaurant, the red dining tables surprisingly packed despite their lack of advertising outside. This place really must be as good as Yoongi promised.

“Anything specific you want?” he asks, finger pointing to the small menu in his hand in case you needed it. When you shake your head, letting him know he can order anything he wants, he does exactly that, placing two orders of jajangmyeon, along with fried dumplings and sweet and sour pork to complete it. It was his go to choices whenever he came, so he hopes you’ll enjoy it as much as he does. 

As you step to the side, backs pressed against the wall closest to the counter in order to keep the space open for the workers and patrons to walk comfortably in the small shop, you turn your head to glance at Yoongi again. “You come here often?”

The way the workers had spoken to him had made that glaringly obvious, but you wanted to hear it from him, wanted to know if he came here for comfort food or some other weird tradition like his ‘one-vinyl-a-day’ way of life. 

It was sort of a habit he had fallen into years ago. Having grown up in this city his whole life, he had stumbled upon this place his last year of high school. It had become a staple soon after, a place he would come to directly after classes were done to come stuff his face before heading home. Then it became a place his girlfriend and him frequented when the apartment they moved into turned out to be a mere block away. 

In a way, the owners of this shop had become like a second family. The amount of times they’ve seen Yoongi at his best and worst throughout the years, never once throwing judgment his way even if he came in beyond plastered back in the years he used to drink, never turning him away even if he cried into his noodles. 

He decides that’s a little too much to unpack right now, so he just nods in confirmation. “Yeah, I’ve been coming here for years. One taste of their noodles and you’ll be hooked too, trust me.”

Oh you trusted him, the amount of plates you’ve seen so far just made your mouth water once they passed by you and the smell of the food reached your nose. “We should’ve just sat down, I’m not gonna be able to wait until I get home to eat this.”

As you say this one of the workers approaches you two with a tied up plastic bag in his hand, the inside stuffed with takeout boxes and utensils for you to take. Yoongi grasps the bag with a smile and thanks him as he walks away. “Don’t worry, I live like a block away.”

He realizes how his words could be taken immediately, how he had assumed you two would innocently go back to his place to share a meal. You had invited him to eat but the location of where you would be doing so had not been discussed and the last thing he wanted was to come across as a sleaze.

His mouth was ready to back track completely, until he sees the way you dramatically place your hand over your chest, and he knows it's too late, “Oh damn, your place? Saucy, but I’m starving so I’ll do almost anything.”

You can see the way he relaxes when he notices you aren’t being serious, taking his words lightly the way he intended them. His eyes roll behind his lids, a lazy smile gracing his lips as he shoves your shoulder lightly to get you to start walking. 

“Is jajangmyeon all it takes?”

“Slow your roll, good jajangmyeon is all it takes. I’ve yet to have a taste.”

Yoongi smiles at your words, taking the lead when you step out of the shop and turn back down towards the main street. His apartment was on the next block over, a short walk that you didn’t mind, especially since he took it upon himself to point at random stores you passed to let you know the best places to get what.

He has a lot of love for this city, the memories it possesses spread out through his entire childhood and early adult years, lingering in each crack on the sidewalk. He often sits and wonders how different his life would be if his parents had decided to move to Busan instead of Seoul, or stayed in Daegu altogether. The thought of the timeline of his life being altered so drastically to the point of possibly not being able to be living this moment sends his mind into a flurry, so he's grateful you’ve reached his front door now as his mind settles.

“Oh my god who’s this?” You coo as you step into his apartment, crouching down towards the white stone floors to pet the fluffy gray cat that greeted you, enjoying the way it purred and rubbed against your knee.

“That's Yuri, the queen of the house.” He steps away from you, setting the plastic bag on top of the kitchen counter a few feet away, his hands pulling out the containers and setting them down. “Don’t give her too much attention or she’ll never let you leave.”

Yuri glances up at you, her bright green eyes peering up innocently at Yoongi’s words, almost as if she was pleading for you to keep petting her. It doesn’t take much convincing for you to scoop your hands under her and press her against your chest as you stand up, your fingers gently scratching the top of her head. Yoongi lets out a sigh when he sees his cat has succeeded in wrapping you around her finger.

“Sorry, she’s too cute to not cuddle with.”

She nuzzles into your chest, purring in appreciation when your fingers trail down onto her spine. Yoongi watches you as he pops open the lid of the container that holds the noodles. Yuri is his baby, yet every time a new person comes into his place she acts like he doesn’t exist— well not until he pops open the container holding the sweet and sour pork. That's when her head pops up, her green eyes sharpening when she spots the food, and Yoongi glares back at the fluffy traitor.

When Yuri's fluffy body shakes slightly as you laugh Yoongi glances back at you, breaking up the staring contest he had going with his cat. “She’s gonna betray your love right now for some pork.” 

You don’t doubt him, not with the way her paws start to push at your arms, attempting to stand up in your embrace until she’s hopping off from your arms and slowly walking towards Yoongi. She’s absolutely shameless as she rubs her body against his legs, and Yoongi can only look down at her before staring back up at you, gesturing out with his hands. “You see?”

The act of betrayal doesn’t sting, not when she’s as cute as she is. Instead you just chuckle, walking towards the stools Yoongi has by the oversized kitchen island, a breakfast bar set up at the end, the food spread out on top of it. He ignores Yuri for the time being, pulling out the stool beside yours and sliding into it. The both of you pull your chopsticks apart and get to eating instantly, swirling the noodles until they’re evenly coated in the sauce.

You try to ignore the way Yoongi blatantly stares at you as you bring up the first clump of noodles, waiting to see what your initial reaction would be to the food he held so near and dear to his heart. Yoongi knows this could go south so quickly, there is nothing worse than trying something new when you’re starving and having it absolutely suck. Sensing his nerves, you slurp the noodles up, and when the salty taste hits your tongue you hum, chewing them thoughtfully to make a show for Yoongi.

“Verdict?”

He waits patiently for you to swallow, sharp eyes analyzing your expression, seeing you lick your lips and grin at him. “You weren’t lying, definitely some of the best jajangmyeon I’ve had.”

In pure dramatics, he practically sags in his seat and raises a fist into the air in success, being able to properly enjoy his food now that he knew you approved of it. The two of you begin to eat in relative silence, the sound of munching and slurping filling up his kitchen space. 

As the minutes go by, the back and forth of your chopsticks plucking out a dumpling after he did, lands with you snatching the last one. An evil cackle leaving you as you pop it into your mouth and grin at him, cheeks puffed out slightly and he can’t find it in himself to be irked at you snatching the last dumpling when you looked like that.

The compromise of that is you leaving the remaining pieces of pork for him to enjoy, and when Yuri gracefully hops onto the counter you see why he had suggested that. He grasps a tiny piece of pork on his chopsticks and feeds her like a parent would a toddler, airplane noise and all until Yuri opens wide and gently clamps down on the meat.

“She’s spoiled because of you.”

He merely shrugs, a giant smile spreading across his face as he watches her with adoration as she chews the food. “I refuse to confirm or deny that.”

As you finish up the last of your food you just watch on as Yoongi alternates between feeding himself and Yuri until no more pork remains. Seeing the soft way he acts with his cat just warms you up, Yoongi had always seemed like a blunt person from the times you’ve seen him at the store, his sense of humor is one that could easily be taken as harsh or cold if you didn’t match it, but you’d never expect to see him this way. The tops of his cheeks push out as he smiles at his cat, cupping her face between his hands and rocking it back and forth before planting a kiss on her forehead.

She seems to understand that that's her cue to hop off the counter, knowing that snack time is now over as Yoongi starts to clean up the empty containers. When you reach to clean your own mess up he’s quick to slap your hands away, smirking when you retract them with a small wince, your fingers rubbing the back of your palm that he had swatted with a pair of chopsticks.

“Shoo.” He waves his arm in the direction of his couch, not giving you another glance and missing the way you pout at how he had dismissed you like he would his cat.

With a huff you turn on your heel, properly taking in his living room. From the small tidbits of half truthful information that Taehyung had provided you with, you knew Yoongi was somebody in the music industry. You had always assumed that when people said that it meant struggling soundcloud rapper or something of the sort, but from the look of his apartment alone it was very evident that Yoongi was not a struggling soundcloud rapper. 

The wall of his living room was lined with floor to ceiling windows, letting you catch a glimpse of the cityscape down below, the darkening horizon and slowly flickering street lights blending together. A dark grey couch was on the wall adjacent to that, directly facing the entertainment center he had set up, complete with a massive mounted television and soundbar, a collection of DVDs organized in the storage unit below it.

You walk closer to it, catching sight of the picture frames he had displayed along the top of it. They were all simple black frames, all differing in size, all of them having photos of Yoongi and his friends on them. The one in particular that had you smiling was a photo booth picture with Yoongi and Namjoon, they were accompanied by three other people, a boy with slightly red tinged hair and a bright smile, another boy with dark brown hair and a slight pout on his face from Namjoon squishing his cheeks, and a girl with light brown hair smiling widely as Yoongi gave her bunny ears.

Namjoon was a very smiley person, never needing a reason to be, but seeing Yoongi sporting a massive gummy smile had you realizing how nicely a smile suited him. It was clear that he held this group of people near to his heart considering they all occupied the remaining photos as well.

A couple of steps right beside that was where he had his prized possession, his record player that he had fully customized to get him the desired sound he was looking for. It was a sleek black, accents of silver shining off of it, resting pretty on a dark stained wooden stand. A few of his records were stored beneath it, but what really caught your eye was the eight by eight makeshift gallery wall that showcased his current favorite LP’s, each individually shelved to show the album art in all its glory.

“Should I give this a listen with you here?”

His question has you turning your head towards him, cutting your admiration of the album covers short. He stood a few feet away, his hands holding up the orange cover of the album he had bought today with your suggestion, and a small sense of nerves bubbles up in your stomach for some reason. You had always suggested music, confident in your choices when you were in the safety of the record store, but having to witness his first impression made you a little uneasy. What if he hated the band entirely, or worse, what if he pretended he didn’t hate them just to soothe your ego.

Is this what he felt like watching you take your first bite of food earlier?

“Sure,” you choke out, taking a giant step back from his record player, hearing him chuckle at your odd behavior.

As he lifts the cover up and slides the giant record out of its sleeve you decide to go sit on the couch, sinking into the plush material and welcoming Yuri into your lap when she jumps on as well.

With a few clicks, the low whirring is heard of the turntable beginning to spin. And when he eases the needle onto the record a small crackle sounds before Get Away starts to play. He fiddles with the volume slightly until satisfied, only then does he turn back around and join you on the couch.

His face is settled in thought, bobbing his head gently to the beat as he rests back against the couch, sinking into it with a groan until he’s fully comfortable, legs spread out with one arm resting casually on his lap and the other on the arm rest, fingers tapping along.

You watch on in silence, your fingers raking through Yuri’s fur until her purring calms your nerves and you’re sagging back. Before you know it your eyes shut as you listen along to the music, your belly is full and your limbs are sore from the unpacking and rearranging that had to be done at work so being able to sit here and shut your brain off while mellow music filled the room was what you needed.

Before long the A side is finished playing, Yoongi having to get up to flip it over until the B side plays all the way through, the ending voicemail of Palace/Curse playing until it fizzles out entirely, the room falling into silence once more.

Yuri had gotten comfortable herself, sprawled out across your lap with her head by your hip, but when Yoongi gets up with a stretch her head pops up, eyes narrowing at her owner until she senses no threat and lays back down.

“Verdict?” You repeat his earlier question, seeing him hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees, his lips pursed in thought.

“Honest opinion?”

“Brutally honest.”

He hums with a sly grin as he turns his head to face you. “They’re good. Kinda makes me feel nostalgic too for some reason. But as a whole, it's great music that calms you down.”

With the way you’re laying practically boneless on his couch you can attest to that, they were definitely a band you listened to to unwind. He catches the wide smile spreading across your face as he stands back up to properly store the record, your smile only getting bigger when you see him replace one of the displayed albums on the wall with the new one. 

“It's going on the wall of favorites,” he announces, sliding the previous record back into the storage underneath.

“I’m honored.”

He steps back from the wall with his hands on his hips, admiring how the orange of the album pops out against the others. Yoongi very rarely switched these albums out, but he had a feeling this wall would eventually become full of the random albums you’d recommend to him.

“Quick question,” he starts as he turns back to face you, taking in the sight of you and his cat cuddling together. “It’s been sitting at the back of my mind, and Taehyung has given me like three different answers.”

A small laugh leaves you as you raise your eyebrow at him in question. “Sure, what is it?”

“Where did you move from?”

You stretch your legs out in front of you, your toes just barely reaching the coffee table he has set up a bit away from the couch, Yuri mimicking your actions and stretching out as well. You were definitely gonna grow as attached to her as you were to your roommate’s cat.

“Like where was I last before this, or where am I actually from?”

He walks towards his fridge, still being able to see and hear you due to the open layout of his place. “Both I guess.” The door pops open and he reaches for a bottle of water.“You thirsty?”

“You have some wine, or some beer?”

Yoongi grunts at that, shaking his head slightly, “Sorry, I don’t drink anymore but I’ve got water and juice.”

You’re sitting up straighter now, voicing out that the water was fine. “Where I’m from is classified information, you’ll have to level up on our friendship for me to tell you that.” You accept the water he hands you, smiling at him as he sits back on the couch. He was fine with your secrecy, taking whatever you feel comfortable telling him. “But I was in Madrid before I came here.”

“Oh? Did you leave where you’re from to go live there?”

Your fingers capture Yuri’s paw, squishing her toe beans as she gently swats at your hair. “No, I was in Amsterdam before that, and Berlin before that as well to name a few. I’ve been bouncing around since I was 20, so about 6 years now.”

He has a look of interest on his face as he sips the water, leaning onto the couch sideways to face you. “Do you ever want to go back to those places?”

“Like visiting the place more than once?”

He nods, his eyes focusing on Yuri’s fluffy body, seeing her sitting back up to hop onto the ledge of the couch, rubbing her body against the back of your head before settling on the backrest of it and getting comfy.

“Hm, not sure. I can’t see myself wanting to flip back the pages of my life to reread a story I already know the outcome to.” With a sigh you shrug at him, your fingers now tracing the material of the couch. “Maybe in the future, years from now, I’ll crave a specific memory and want to go back, but it hasn’t happened yet.”

The amount of new cities and countries you’ve been lucky enough to call home for any amount of time held a special place inside of you, the memories and stories you had because of those experiences helped shape you into the person you are. Sure not all of them were movie-like experiences, some close calls happening at a few places that made you question whether you made the right choice living your life the way you did. But then you’d have moments that just felt right, and right now, sitting on this couch with Yoongi, this was one of those moments.

“So you don’t plan on staying here forever?”

“Well what do you mean by forever?”

He smiles, not thinking he would have to explain what forever meant to him. “For the rest of your life. Is there another version of forever Y/N?”

“Shut up,” you laugh. “It’s not likely, but who's to say. I never move somewhere with a time frame of how long I plan on staying.”

“How do you decide? Sorry if I’m prying but I just can’t imagine that moving somewhere new would be easy. Picturing having to leave friends behind would probably wound me.” 

That was true, that was definitely the hardest part of doing this— emotionally at least. The people you met and befriended were a factor in deciding how long you’d stay somewhere. After the initial week of exploring a new place, it gets lonely. You’ve been to places where even the roommates you’d stay with weren’t friendly, and you’d have to take it a step further and search for friendships elsewhere. It was the main reason you had learned to not be timid when it came to making the first move.

“It’s kind of a gut feeling. The longest place I’ve lived in was Paris for two years.” A smile spreads across your face as you recall the two years you spent in that city, how you probably would’ve left after a few weeks if you hadn’t ran into that cute boy right before the club you were in shut down for the night. That experience alone was one of the main reasons you made it a conscious decision to not fall in love, not wanting to experience the inevitable heartbreak that came with it. 

Paris was the first place you moved to, jumping head first into adventure and taking everything that came with it, including romance. Leaving friends behind had been hard, but leaving Park Jimin behind had been a different version of painful.

“Before this I was in Madrid for a month. I found myself getting comfortable too fast and when I get comfortable I get bored. When it's no longer new and exciting I don’t see the point of staying anymore.”

Yoongi absolutely can not see the logic in the way you live, the carefree aura radiating off of you, but he weirdly craves it. He craves the feeling of not being afraid of not knowing what's coming, being able to just let the cards fall wherever they land. His entire life had changed in the last few years and was now built off routine, bullet point to-do lists and deadlines he had to meet. The only adventure he experiences anymore is thanks to his friends, luring him out of his apartment to fulfil any of their spur of the moment ideas, but nothing comes close to this. 

He’s not able to understand how you can be suspended in freefall for the majority of your life, and instead of panicking about your lack of parachute, you’re admiring the view.

“Do you plan on staying here forever?”

That question makes him freeze a little, he had been prying into your life no problem but now that a question was directed at him, he felt himself growing uneasy. “I guess I did.”

“Did...why past tense?”

You see the way he hesitates, his mind is already playing through all the scenarios that can come because of this but he decides to just bite the bullet. “Love makes you think of forever. I pictured forever with my fiance.”

At the mention of a fiance your mind thinks of the girl in the photos with Yoongi, the girl with the bright smile and wide eyes.

Was Yoongi a married man?

He can spot the way you process his vague information, knowing he should elaborate before you think anything else, before your eyes move to his ring finger only to find it bare. “When you’re with someone for almost 8 years its normal to think of forever you know.”

The flashes of his relationship play in his mind, meeting his fiance in his last year of high school. How they had pulled each other out of their shells, becoming rather chaotic in their adventures over the years, turning into adults and supporting each other in every aspect of life.

The memory of Yoongi proposing to her still feels fresh in his mind, taking her to Jeju island since it was a place she had always wanted to visit, not being able to due to caring for her family.

“We were actually planning our wedding, having invitations sent out with everything nearly ready but she uh–“ he stops to breathe slightly, his eyes moving to stare at the picture frames, proving your assumption of the girl being his fiance right. “She got into an accident.”

He hadn’t specified if she died or not, but that faraway look in his eyes spelled it out for you. Forever didn’t have any sympathy for his situation, but he just shrugs it off, forcing himself to not speak further on it. There was more that tied in to the tragic passing of his fiance but he felt he had overshared enough already, not wanting to make you uncomfortable by unloading this information on you. The last thing he needed was to turn this nice day into a pity party with him being the center of attention. 

He’s just waiting for the routine apologetic words that would fall from your mouth—maybe you’d reach over and rub his arm like some people did, tell him how sad it was as if he didn’t already know. Some half assed attempt to make him feel better even though you were clearly blind sided by the topic. 

Yoongi didn’t want that, always hating the way people would stare at him like he was some charity case. This was why he rarely chose to stray from his circle of comfort, from the people that knew the baggage that came with him and accepted him, keeping his group as tight knit as possible in order to not pick at scabbed over wounds. 

When you sigh, he braces for it, mentally accepting that this might be what ends your new formed friendship before you could really creep through the cracks in the wall he built. But instead you reach forward and grasp Yuri once more, scooping her up and bringing her to your chest like a baby. “So Yuri wasn’t the only queen of the house, is that it?”

Yuri purrs in confirmation and Yoongi turns to stare at you again, blinking the wetness away from his eyes before he could even call them tears. You had a smile on your face as you stared at him, not that typical sympathetic smile people always sent his way, it was a genuine one, letting him know he was free to talk more on the subject if he needed to.

And for the first time Yoongi acknowledges that maybe he did need to. He was so used to bottling his emotions in, shutting himself off after her passing, pushing all of his friends and family away and locking himself at home as he mourned, submerging himself in his work to numb himself from feeling anything. Even now, his friends never pried, let him handle his feelings any way he wanted to. But Yoongi can’t act like his chest aches from keeping it all in, the pressure slowly releasing even with the minimal information he had given you. 

“Yeah,” he sighs out in relief, reaching out to pet Yuri. “Hani was the queen before Yuri got promoted.”

As you coo at his cat he feels himself sagging back onto the couch. The small dam of emotions he had inside finally released, and before you know it he’s spilling everything out, telling you tidbit stories of him and Hani, and somehow easing you into sharing similar stories of you and Jimin. 

The sun fully sets through the windows, neither of you noticing as you talk well into the night, and Yoongi found himself laughing and smiling at the mention of Hani for the first time in two years. You urge him on, watching on with interest while he talks about the day they had picked up Yuri from the shelter. 

His eyes are crinkled up in that endearing way you had seen more of today than in the past weeks of knowing him, and it fills you with warmth to know he’s allowing you to know about this part of his life. It felt like sacred information, uncharted territory from the way he had hesitated in the beginning, almost like he wasn’t sure if he could trust you with the precious memories he held tightly. All he needed was a gentle nudge and a genuine smile to slowly let you flip the pages of his brain, knowing you wouldn’t judge the bleeding ink and scratched out words that came with each story. 

As he stares at the way you smile at him, he comes to the realization that your sneaky ass must have already managed to slip past the cracks of the walls he built, infiltrating the tight knit circle he had for himself. He has to hold in a laugh when he recalls the way Taehyung had seriously suggested that you might be a spy sent here from another country. Maybe he was onto something, because he was refusing to accept that his willingness to overshare and stray from his norm was due to anything but your highly trained interrogation skills. 

You clearly had his cat fooled as well. When Yuri leans up and nuzzles her face against yours he sighs, knowing she had claimed you as her favorite solely based on the attention you gave her. You were good. Yoongi guesses he would have to keep you around now, just for the sake of his cat, nothing more. 

[reincarnated70sbaby]

linger

listen before you read!

robert plant xfem!oc

warnings : drug use, swearing, trucklot of angst ;)

word count : 2.1k

an: was listening to ‘linger’ by the cranberries and I couldn’t pass up this angsty idea I got 😎 timeline is off but yolo ig...

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

Sloane leaned down to the table to take an extra line for her pre-performance nerves. She felt a little more nervous today, this particular concert being one of the largest yet. She was the front woman of The CAPs, who were opening for Led Zeppelin for their summer of ‘69 tour. This was exactly the break the band needed, finally getting recognition for all their talent and hard work over the last two years.

She applied a little powder to her face, and patted on her classic red lipstick to her slightly chapped lips. Securing the clasps of her platform red heels, she shook her body in hopes of shaking away her anxious jitters. Once she had finished her body-shaking ritual, she walked out from the wings of the stage.

As she walked across to centre stage, wind blowing through the holes of her white crochet dress. The crowd cheered loudly as the band waved to them.

“How’s everyone doin’ today? It’s so hot today, my boobs are sweating off!” She greeted the crowd with her bubbly nature. Adjusting the mic stand to her height, she continued to address the huge crowd. “Today’s set list will have a slight adjustment to it, we’re starting off with a new song I wrote just last night. It’s a little softer than our other music, so just sit back- or should I say lean back on the person behind you - and relax. This is called ‘Linger’ "

While she was speaking to the crowd, a teenage roadie ran onto the stage and placed a stool, for Sloane to sit on, and disappeared again in a heartbeat. The crowd, didn’t even take notice of the young boy, entranced with the tawny blonde singer as usual.

Sloane sat down, crossed her legs and nodded toward Rory, to begin. Rory started picking a simple guitar melody on his trusty Gibson acoustic, the first guitar he ever picked up. Sloane swayed lightly to the rhythm, eyes on the horizon above the crowd. Soon after, Marshall joined in with quiet, but strong beat on drums. At the same time, Oscar added the baseline to the song.

Taking a deep breath, Sloane began the song.

If you, If you could return, Don’t let it burn, Don’t let it fade, I’m sure I’m not being rude, It’s just your attitude, It’s tearing me apart, It’s ruining every day

I swore, I swore I would be true, But honey so did you, So why were you holding her hand? Is that the way we stand? We’re you lying all the time? Was it just a game to you?

Sloane sang gently, her eyes closed with a pained look on her face. She thought back to the day before, when everything fell apart.

———

“Sloane, honey, please tell me what’s wrong! You’re being so closed off with me today!” Robert pleaded, grabbing her hand while she was walking away. Sloane yanked her hand away and walked towards an empty storeroom in the hotel corridor.

“Don’t get any ideas, we need to talk privately” Sloane commanded as she entered into the storeroom. It had barely enough space for both of them to fit, being crammed full with towels and bedsheets.

“Please, love, jus’ tell me what’s bothering you, I wanna make you happy”

“Oh fuck off Robert, you’re so fake and a liar. These past couple of months have all been a lie!”

“What’re talkin’ about? I have never lied to you once”

“Seriously? ‘I’ve never lied to you’? Are you actually for real right now? Do you know what I just found out Robert? You’re fucking married! And she’s coming here tonight! You didn’t think I would deserve to know that!” She yelled, ignoring her previous statement about keeping this private.

“I didn’t tell you because I was scared okay? I have never felt like this before with anyone else. All the groupies were just for sex, but when I met you I had fallen for you Slo, you make me a better person in every way”

“I don’t care how I make you feel, you’re still married! With kids! How would they feel if they found out their father was in a relationship with a woman other than their mother? I can’t believe you did this to me willingly, even after I told you what happened with my parents. That messed me up, seeing my father with another woman, and leaving my mother for her. Never seeing him again, choosing his new family over me and my siblings. That hurts me the most Robert, you knew my history and you ignored it!” Sloane cried out, tears falling freely on her face, running her dark eye makeup.

“I never meant to hurt you love, you mean so much to me. I just didn’t think- I never fuckin think, but I my feelings were so strong for you, I never thought about Maureen, I’m shamed to admit it” Robert plead, guilt weighing on his conscience. He reached out to wipe her tears away, but Sloane turned her head, the same pained look on her face.

“We’re done. I can’t stay with someone who could forget about their own wife and kids, and forget to tell their girlfriend that she’s actually a mistress. Goodbye” Sloane said, pushing her way out of the cramped closet, before running to the elevator at the end of the hall.

———

But I’m in so deep, You know I’m such a fool for you, You got me wrapped around your finger, Do you have to let it linger? Do you have to? Do you have to let it linger?

Sloane sang emotionally, a single tear escaped her tear duct. She took the break for guitar solo to take a couple deep breathes, and to calm her heightened emotions down.

Oh, I thought the world of you, I thought nothing could go wrong, But I was wrong, I was wrong

If you, if you could get by, Trying not to lie, Things wouldn’t be so confused, And I wouldn’t feel so used, But you always knew, I just want to be with you

———

Sloane sat at the large round table, sipping her wine. The two bands had just completed all the concerts in France, and were having a celebratory dinner for the night. The lights were dim in the fancy restaurant, but Sloane could still see the heartbreaking sight of Maureen and Robert cozying up to eachother. She longed to be the one Robert was dedicated to, to be his Maureen, to be the one who sipped on his beer instead of her wine for a change, to rest her hand on his knee. She wished to be the one who would sleep with him in bed each night, without a worry of cheating or unfaithfulness. Her heart was also broken for Maureen, she was so inlove with Robert, as was he with her. She was also probably the greatest mother out there, being a single parent for a lot of the year.

Sloane switched her focus from the smitten couple, to Marshall and John Bonham's discussion on gongs, congas and all exotic drums.

Everything had been going so well, the concerts each night going to wonderfully, the bands got on great together. Even all the touring crew and management got on well with eachother. It was like one, big, slightly dysfunctional family.

Sloane wished she could vent to one of her bandmates about her case of ill fated love, but she knew if she told any of the CAP boys, tension would arise between the bands, and she simply couldn't bear to break the harmony.

“I’m sorry everyone, but I feel a bit ill and I think it would be best if I went to my room” Sloane announced, rising from her chair. She briefly locked eyes with Robert, before averting her eyes that threatened to fill with tears.

“Are you sure you’re okay Slo? I can come up and look after you if you feel faint or anything?” Rory asked genuinely, concerned for his little sister, he noticed she had been a little less bubbly than normal today.

“I’m fine Ror, I’ll think being on the go and travelling for the last couple of months has caught up with me. I’ll call you if I need you. Love you” she said, hugging him tightly.

“Love you, stay safe sis”

A chorus of goodbyes were heard as she left the table and walked out of the brassiere restaurant.

As soon as she entered her large room, she decided to clean up her stuff in order to distract herself. She folded all her clothes, tucked all her shoes into her suitcase, and cleaned up her makeup station on the vanity, placing the assortment of beauty products in the black makeup bag she owned.

After she was done cleaning, she ordered a couple bottles of wine, with some croissant from room service, taking advantage of the readily available French delicacies.

Lowering herself into the warm bubble bath she ran while waiting for her room service, her mind wandered to the whole situation, creating lyrics in her head. Luckily she brought her songbook, so there was no need to get out of the bath in search for it. She poured her heart out into the lyrics. After finishing the lyrics up, she soaked for a little longer, until she felt herself pruning and wrapped the fuzzy bath robe around herself.

She was about to turn off her bedside light to sleep, when she heard a light knock on the door. Her head scrambled, trying to figuring out who it was. Must be Rory checking up on me she thought. Opening the door, her heart skipped a beat at the visitor.

“Sloane let me-“

“Robert, please, I told you we were over”

“Will you let me speak, I need to talk to you”

Sloane stepped aside from the door, letting him in. She guided him to the seating area of the room, not wanting to risk being near the bed.

“Uh, d’want tea or something?” Sloane asked the blonde man, the air heavy with awkward tension.

“Yeah sure, love. That’d be great” Robert answered warmly.

“So, what do you want to say” Sloane asked, pushing his tea on front of him.

“Sloane, I’m sorry. I still do love you and I hate that I fucked everything up. I was just so infatuated- I still am, and I regret that I made you feel upset. I just want to say sorry”

“I- I still love you too Robert, it wasn’t just one sided, I really thought you were the one”

“Sloane, I don’t know what to say… If- if you ask me to, I will. I want you. I want to be yours.”

“Robert- I. I can’t do that. As much as I want to love you and be with you, I can’t be a homewrecker. I’ve seen the way you are with Maureen, you love her. I know in my gut that you’re better off with her. She loves you and deserves you 100%” Sloane’s face was wet with tears.

“Uh, okay. I’m sorry love, I really wish I didn’t fuck up our relationship. I really hope that one day we can be friends again, when you’re ready” Robert got up to leave, but was stopped when Sloane grabbed his hand.

“There’s a part of me that will always love you Robert. This was wonderful while it lasted” She spoke with a sad smile on her face.

Robert squeezed her hand in agreement, before exiting the room.

———

And I’m in so deep, You know I’m such a fool for you You got me wrapped around your finger, oh, Do you have to let it linger? Do you have to? Do you have to let it linger?

Oh I’m in so deep, You know I still have love for you, My love has wrapped me round your finger, oh, Do you have to let it linger? Do you have? Do you have to let it linger?

The CAPs finished their song, and Sloane stood up to thank the crowd.

“Robert, darling, there you are. Was that singer at the dinner last night?” Maureen asked warmly to her husband, joining him in the wings.

“Uh, yeah, but she left early because of travel sickness y’know the sort” Robert answered absentmindedly, his deep blue eyes trained on the lead singer, who was preparing for the next song in the band’s set list.

“I must have missed her. She’s gorgeous, isn’t she? I love that song she just sang, great voice” Maureen mused, admiring Sloane’s confidence , akin to her husbands.

“Yeah, yeah she is. She’s a beautiful person, inside and out”

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

my first Robert fic!!! I’m more of a Jimmy girl, but I love the golden god too (Leo men <3)

as always, any criticism/ideas are welcome in my inbox or comments 🤍

tag list : @dreamersdrowse @rebel-without-a-zeppelin @princesspagey ask me if you would like to be added!!

[botwstoriesandsuch]

I recently read Shades of blue after you rwcommended it and Oh My God was it worth it. That was beautiful and amazing and do you have any other recommendations?

✨MISSIONS ACCOMPLISHED✨

AAAAAA I’m so glad you read it!!! Honestly I’ve been waiting for someone to ask me for recs for awhile because I have.........a few...

Miscellaneous ships here, not just Revalink but the first lot are

- Pinesong by @a-perplexing-puzzle D-Do I even need to explain myself more??? I talk about this fic every other day of the week..... it’s just great vibes....soft and fluffy and angsty just *chef’s kiss* two gay boys searching through their old memories to remember how gay they are 

- Shades of Blue by @unapologetically-asexual OK I know original anon just said they read this but for you idiots that haven’t read it yet....uhhhh get on that. Nothing I could say would really advertise this fic better than this post

- somebody’s always looking (nothing’s quite as sweet) by @kouzaires One of my FAV Coffee shop AU’s for botw....so sof......so tender...........so warrmmmmm.............they characters are written so well.....just love it...a lot

- Broken Spirits by @legendoftoad It’s just AAAAAAAAAA??!!? My boys are hurting and the malice for half of it is frickin doing things to my boy and then of course you got your PTSD themes meddled in there and hnnnnnnnnnnhhhhhghgh my hurt/comfort itch is sufficiently scratched go read

- Linger On by ICanFlyHigher [idk if they have a tumblr] Ok I actually haven’t finished this fic yet but it’s been recommended time and time again so I’ve been reading this in my spare time I’m on like Chapter 12 or 13 I think but I can say with CERTAINTY that the writing is fantastic and tender moments are off the charts and my boys are so precious and also the Yiga are actually cool in this so that’s nice

- Learning Flight by homewardbound This is just *chefs kiss* *standing ovation* *throws confetti in the air* quality quality Revalink. Just a delicious chocolate cake of botw and Revalink. You got your mysterious Revali waking up 105 years later batter, and your angsty PTSD gay boys duo chocolate chips, and then you can chuck in some engaging sideplot elements as a few tall tiers, and then the cake is all whipped up with the wooden spoon of subtextual writing just mmmm delicious. and ALSO I betaed a thing that is gonna happen and let me tell you shit is gonna happen like VERY IMPORTANT SUPER COOL plot twists be happening so you better read it 

- Conversations After The End Of The World by @bismuthllie Ok this one’s a oneshot but I always go back and read it because...idk it just strums my heart strings a lot...I’ve said Pinesong was my first big Revalink fic I’ce read, but this was like...my first, first piece of Revalink content I read ever so...yeah <3 ....and also the art for this comic is fantastic too even thought it gives me the emotions......hahaha ok Revali it’s time to stop being dead

- I See You Swimming In The Sky by @unavoidablekoishi OK OK I know my logic isn’t the best considering it’s the only Revali/Mipha fic I’ve read, but god dammit it’s the best Revpha fic I’ve ever read I still need to catch up cause I’m like 3 chapters behind but this fic CONVERTED me ok, miphvali went from a “huh yeah the art is nice I can kinda see it” to “THAT FISH IS SIMPING FOR THE BIRD 24/7 AND THEY DESERVE EACH OTHER″ This is some *claps* GOOD. SHIT. Ok? *slaps roof of fic* This bad boy can fit so much charming characterization and interaction (and also has made me scream both happily and not happily on several occasions)

- Guardian of The Wilds by @no-themes-just-memes in which I constantly miscall it “Guardian of the Wild” because I’m stupid This isn’t so much a ship fic but it’s so cool Link is a spirit, Urbosa and Zelda’s mom are a thing, Zelda is HERE and she is AMAZING like no spoilers but holy shit Zelda is here and slaying in more ways than one and riding Satori and hhnnnnhhhhhhhh it’s all about those ~plot twists~ and tone changes ya know? very very very nice...

- Firebird by @paellaplease Oh no, it’s Kip’s obligatory Firebird gush whoopsie poopsie who would have guessed surely not me. This is just my standard for Oc ship content now it’s so good I am gay for one fire girl Maiya is my spirit animal and I just wanna cup her in my hands softly even though I know she would probably burn me for it but it would totally be worth it. The writing is just superb and I am also gay for great imagery and action which this is chalk full of so go read it 

Ok it’s actually 2am right now and I still need to finish a bunch of AP work so I’m just gonna speed run the rest of these recs

@echogekkos writes such cute and soft Miphlink fics that are on my top tier list like this one and oh crap this post made me realize Healing Touch updated crap there are so many things I need to read and catch up on anyways want more miphlink angst? BOOM read the inspiration for eternity by Merakkli and oh what’s that? You want deep lore that was custom made with lots of hot ocs in a fic that spans way beyond BOTW welp here’s Hyrule Bound a universe entirely created by @themisadventurescrew which is yet another fic series that I am behind on crap but oh shit @kittmoon has started a chapter fic called Jaded Seas recently so you should go read that but also all of their oneshots are great as well so you should follow them and did I mention that everyone I’ve tagged are people you should follow because yeah anyhow here’s a crackfic about Goron children that had me shaking out of either fear or confusion for a few days by @angsttronaut ok moving on @thatsnotzelda writes beautifully just take a look at this angsty Revalink thing and also bambambambam you’ve been ambushed by @hatenostorms @going-fancognito @ashrel @lizards-writing-blog so now go request some from them because I said so they’re great also uhhh @idiotic-canadian and @moonchildrenn [Pins_and_Patches on ao3] hate happiness but that’s ok because I get to be emotionally wrecked by their angst and whump hurray! wait fUCK I completely forgot to rec this earlier but my first Zelpha fic was this gorgeous Coffeeshop AU by @theseventhsage called Dreaming of Coffee and Love so go read that *flipping through entire history of ao3* let’s see let’s see... All of the Rito Chronicles by  sturms_sun_shattered is great, and this Teba/Harth one is also a fav and oh CRAP my zelink content is just everything by @fatefulfaerie because it’s just *throws colorful streamers in the air* pretty and I love their writing welp I’m about to collapse lets just end it off with the z’s like @zzariyo and @zeawesomebirdie on ao3  they are some pretty radical french fries if i do say so myself and and ok ok read this other Zelpha coffee au which is also by @kouzaires and this Modern au also by @unavoidablekoishi ok that’s all I can remember right now bye 

[missskzbiased]

I Hate That I’m Afraid to Love You (18)

Genre: Romance, Friendship, Angst, Hurt /Confort , Suggestive, Fluff, College Au, Enemies to Friends to Lovers Au, REALLY Slow burn, Love Square (?)

Pairing: Hyunjin X Fem!Reader  X Han X OC

WC: ~ 4,4K

[Previous] [Chap] [Next]

Masterlist

Warnings (general*): Language, Mentions of (Physical abuse, Death/ Loss of Loved One, Child Abandonment/Neglect, Divorce, Toxic Parents, Cancer, Mental disorder, Anxiety Attack, Alcohol, Food), Suggestiveness

Notes: If anyone got the notification, please tell me 😭 If you guys want to get notifications (hopefully) please go here

Updates: Tuesdays

                                                         ////

   There were a lot of rumors going on right now.

    You prided yourself on not being the type to care about rumors and things like this but being in the center of so many of those in the last few days made it impossible for you to not be at least curious. The whispers had been obvious for a while now ─ particularly after Paris’ performance ─ and you couldn’t help but wonder how people could have so much free time in their hands and use it like that.

    You should have known, though.

    It was more than obvious that befriending Chan and Hyunjin would put you in the spotlight and it was bound to lead to dumb rumors at some point. You just didn’t expect them to be so dumb. Although you must have heard about hundreds of versions up to now, the core of all of them was pretty simple to catch: Love affairs and intrigue. That was what those incredible undergraduate brains could do with all of their loose imagination and wisdom.    

    You could kinda grasp why people thought you were dating Chan. You really could. You were pretty close with each other so it was logical for people to misunderstand your relationship… The thing is that you had been like this with Chan for ages now and no one ever had commented anything about it ─ at least not to this extent ─ so the real question here was pretty simple: Why now?

    “Hey” You lifted your eyes from the counter, meeting Hyunjin’s ones “Daydreaming at work?” He chuckled, leaning on the surface as he rested his face on his hand, studying you closely.

    Well… Then there was that too.

    Not only you were dating Chan but you were also cheating on him with Hyunjin… So maybe you could understand why people thought you were with Chan but where did this come from? It didn’t make any sense. First of all, they’re best friends living together! How the hell would you two-time Chan right under his roof with his best friend?! Second of all, you didn’t give away any hint on feeling something for Hyunjin! And he didn’t show anything similar for you either!

    No. Fucking. Sense.

    “Yeah…” You agreed mindlessly, mimicking his position to stare into his eyes “What about you? Why are you here?” You asked curiously, tilting your head as he smiled fondly at you; face too close for you to completely catch his shrug.

    “Can’t I drop by to see a friend?” He asked in a teasing tone “I should just have gone to see Paris… She treats me way better than you” He joked; hand reaching to fix a strand behind your ear “I should know you were just going after my body…” He sighed mockingly, chuckling as you rolled your eyes and tried to get away from his touch.

    “Stop it” You hissed “You know people are talking about us!” You frowned, getting a laugh as an answer. He leaned even closer, prompting you to lean back, trying to get more space between the both of you “You might like being the center of the attention but I don’t, Hyunjin” You mumbled, pushing him lightly so he would take a step back.

    “I didn’t think you were the type to care about what people thought about you” He pointed out, leaning back anyway “What are you worrying about? Do you think Chan will misunderstand us?” You weren’t really sure but his tone sounded a little bitter right there, and you couldn’t help but narrow your eyes.

    There was something wrong with Hyunjin these days…

    You were under the impression that he had been the target of those kinds of rumors throughout all his life and yet he was acting weirdly. Although he was quite playful about it ─ and by playful you meant flirty and touching ─, he also had those moments where he seemed to… Overthink? You weren’t really sure what was going on.

    It was like he couldn’t help but grimace each time you and Chan were mentioned on those. He seemed pretty okay in being the center of the rumors… Whether it was you or Paris, he didn’t seem to mind when either of you was pictured with him but he got clearly upset when Chan was involved. You were not sure if it was just his overprotective self over Chan or if he was suspicious of something going on between both of you while he knew the other rumors were just bullshit.

    He probably believed that both of you were hiding things from him. Again. You honestly had no idea why your friends had so much of a hard time understanding the things you said. You and Chan would never have anything! You were best friends, for Lord’s sake! And that was it.

    No. Romantic. Feelings. At. All.

    “There is nothing to misunderstand here, Hyunjin” You sighed “You and I have nothing going on and neither do I and Chan” You explained for the hundredth time already “Not wanting to fuel the rumors isn’t the same as caring about them” You added, grimacing at him in a matter-of-fact way that made him scoff.

    “I see…” He hummed, staring into your eyes for a second too long “Well… Anyway, I came here for a new book” He clarified, placing the last one he borrowed on the counter “This one was pretty good but I still preferred the first you lent me” He added, drumming his fingers on the book’s cover “I was wondering if you don’t have any other indications” He shrugged, averting his eyes from yours.

  “Oh? I thought you were a slow reader” You arched your brows in surprise, taking the book from the counter while looking at him “Are you sure you read that one?” You joked, chuckling.

   “I guess you still have a lot to learn about me” He giggled, leaning once more on the counter “Maybe if you started to pay attention to me instead of listening to those rumors…” He let the sentence hang in the air teasingly, smirking as you rolled your eyes “Or maybe we should start dating to give them a reason to talk” He chuckled, wiggling his brows at you.

   “Great 5th grade way to think” You praised him mockingly, giving him a thumbs-up as you pressed the book against your chest and made your way to the shelf it was supposed to be on “Do you have any genre in mind?” You asked mindlessly, checking the codes to match the book.

    “Surprise me” He joked, trying to do an awkward French accent that made you look funnily at him “Oh, come on… Ratatouille? No? Really?” He nagged, mumbling displeased as you giggled at his antics.

    You turned on the aisle, eyes roaming around as he followed you closely behind, gaze wandering around the many books displayed on the shelves. You put the one you were holding back in its place, humming as you studied the content on the shelves. He hummed along with you, playfully leaning closer to your ear as he pretended to be invested in looking for something to read.  

    His presence sent shivers all the way down your body.

    No… Not his presence.

    It was the setting… Yes, it had to be it.

    The library had that mysterious ancient vibe that thrilled you… The brownish solid colors surrounding everything in a majestic framing that made you feel too small… The hard-covered books’ scent in the air, a full-bodied heaviness that seemed to clamp you… The dim lighting that revealed each scattering mote fluttering around, agitated by the soft huff Hyunjin let out… The warmth that crept into your bones as you held your breath for just a half-second…

    It wasn’t him.

    The way your heart rammed against your chest had nothing to do with his presence… Nor it had anything to do with his hands slowly making their way to the shelves, trapping you between him and the books… And you were almost too sure that the cloudy thoughts flickering in your mind and the fluttering sensations in your stomach ─ that forced you to swallow dryly ─ had something to do with your skipped meal but, again, not with him.

    “Someone looks nervous” He whispered and somehow his breathing seemed to tighten your chest and quicken your heart pace once more. You could see both of his hands right in front of you and yet it felt like he was embracing you… The way you had to force your eyes open wasn’t a good sign to your brain “All stiff and…” He continued; voice purposely teasingly “… Panting” He added, a hint of amusement under his tone.

    “Stop joking around…” You managed to say, lips quivering as he chuckled huskily. Although you could feel his warmth and presence clearly, there was no inch of skin ─ except his chin making its way to rest on your shoulder ─ to seal the deal. It felt intimate yet distant… It felt like you were supposed to laugh it off but you didn’t want to.

    “It doesn’t need to be a j—“ He couldn’t finish what he was going to say, interrupted by a gasp that had both of your heads snapping at the side. There, facing the aisle with mouth fully agape and widened eyes, was someone who was bound to spread some more rumors around.

    “I-I’m sorry” They blurted out “I-I didn’t mean to interrupt” They rushed to say, clearing their throat before turning around, utterly flustered by what they thought to have witnessed. You groaned, resting your forehead on the shelf before flicking Hyunjin’s nose, pushing him away for you to look for a new book.

    “Read this” You spat, shoving a random one into his hands.

                                                          ////

    Your thoughts were filled with Hyunjin.

    Although your eyes were fixed on the TV, you couldn’t care less about whatever was going on there. The voices sounded like a buzz in the back of your head and the image was almost too blurry for you to understand but Paris’ distinct laughter was a good cue for you to laugh at some joke you didn’t listen to. Whether it was your chuckle sounding too fake or too off time, she seemed to notice that something was going on inside your head.

    She didn’t even say anything, pausing the show before looking straight at you with a questioning look, arching her brow as she waited for you to say something. There was it… The two-path road. You could either tell her that it was nothing ─ and she would probably narrow her eyes at you until you made up a random excuse ─ or you could actually tell her what has been on your mind lately ─ and then you would have to put up with the insufferable Paris state.

    Too late to back off now… You should have paid attention to the show.

    You glanced at her ─ unsure about what to say or do at a moment like this ─, biting your lip as you blinked a few times to buy some time to decide what you were going to do. You knew Paris well enough to predict her reaction… As soon as you said that you have been thinking a lot about all those rumors, she would instantly assume that you were worrying over it because you had some suppressed feelings that you were trying to hide.

    You just knew it.

    “So…” She stressed, still staring at you “What’s going on inside that little box of yours?” She joked, pointing at her own head before hugging her knees, sitting across you on the couch.

  Path N° 1: The finals are right there at the corner…

  Path N° 2: I can’t understand where all those rumors are coming from… I didn’t do anything suspicious with Chan or Hyunjin and suddenly people are talking behind our back. Either I messed up really bad about something and didn’t notice or someone misunderstood something I did… Or maybe it could be because Hyunjin has been flirting a lot lately! He pinned me against the wall thrice already. Do you think this is strange? I’m finding it a little odd... Maybe I’m being too sensitive over useless st–

  “Y/N?” Paris called you softly, tilting her head to the other side as if it could help her to see what was going on in your mind “Are you feeling okay? You seem a little bit… Off… Today” She said carefully, studying your features for a brief moment.

  “I’ve been thinking about the rumors…” You began hesitantly, checking for her reaction “Don’t you find it strange? I mean… You and Hyunjin had your rumors before but I hadn’t been dragged into this until now” You pointed out, shrugging “I find it odd that people are talking about me and Chan out of nowhere and… Well, talking like I’m hooking up with Hyunjin behind your back” You explained.

  Paris didn’t say anything at first, seeming surprised by your worries.

  “Well…” She cleared her throat “I mean… I have heard some things about you and Chan around… And you kinda… Well—“ She licked her lips, visibly stiffening up as she thought about what to say “You know? Some people saw you guys at the library… And you guys keep calling each other sweety and stuff…” She floundered her hand in the air as if it helped her to express it better “And you gave him your keys… And he slept here the whole week…” She trailed off.

    “What the fuck?” You blurted, surprised by all this “How do they even know about this?!” You frowned, wondering how many people heard all those kinds of stuff out of context and got to build up a rumor like this.

    “Yeah… Well, you guys aren’t really subtle” She chuckled nervously “And I think that you shouldn’t really have said that you guys used to… Have sex…” She practically whispered the last part, ashamed to talk about it “Before, you know? Especially on a party” She cleared her throat once more, fixing herself on the couch.

    You had what now?

    “I never said that” You frowned “I never had sex with Chan… I-“ You scowled in disgust “Why would I ever have sex with Chan? We’re literally best friends! He’s like a brother to me or something… Ew” You scrunched your nose, shaking your head to get rid of the thought “What made you think I had sex with him? What the fuck?” it would be an understatement to say that you were flabbergasted.

    “Well… You kinda did” She arched her brow, looking at you filled with confusion “You told us you used to hook up with Chan, remember?” She asked as if she was talking to a kid “At the party, you clearly said that you used to hook up with him…” She pursed her lips, raising her eyebrows matter-of-factly, almost as if she was trying to transfer her memories to you.

    “No, I most definitely didn’t say this” You grimaced at her, finding all the situation kinda odd, “I said I hooked up with Chan’s friend” You emphasized, returning the look to her “I would never say I hooked up with him… You distorting what I said” You blinked, staring at her in confusion as she gasped.

    “Oh! It was Chan’s friend!” She chortled “Well, so you should roast Chan! He interrupted you, and I think everyone understood the very same as me” She huffed, seeming to find the situation amusing “Oh my God… I’m pretty sure that was what triggered the rumors about you and Chan, to be honest” She mused, rubbing her chin thoughtfully.

    “I can’t believe you guys thought—“ You sighed in resignation “Well… Anyway, I’m not dating or fucking Chan” You said dismissively, already done with how all this had started “And what have you heard about Hyunjin? What started it all?” You deadpanned, waiting for some silly explanation once again.

  Paris stared blankly at you.

  “You’re kidding, right?” She sounded taken aback, looking at you as if you tried to make a bad joke. The way you stood silent, staring back at her in genuine curiosity, must have seemed really sincere because she chortled before answering you “Y/N, he literally kissed you at the stairs” She reminded you slowly, trying to get the words to sink into your head.

  She didn’t need to do much.

  You didn’t want to admit it ─ and you would refuse to for as long as you could ─ but that kiss… Fake kiss! That fake kiss… You couldn’t help but gulp down as you felt your senses being electrified just by the mention of it. How many times did you push aside that thought? How many times did you ignore the flickering thought in the back of your mind? How many times you could practically see him leaning in for a kiss?

  You licked your lips, biting them to restrain the turmoil inside your head.

  Of course, you weren’t blind… Hyunjin was a handsome piece of shit. You knew it even when you hated him. You knew it even when you didn’t want to acknowledge it… Even when you wanted to believe that it was just the popular opinion about him.

    Now, you couldn’t ignore how pretty he was.

    You weren’t quite sure if it was all in your mind ─ he did lean it too quickly for you to notice every single thing ─ but you could still feel the fire on his gaze as he made his move. You could remember how eager he was… Or at least, how eager you believed him to be as you were crushed against the wall and lost all the air inside your lungs. Was it just you being surprised? Was it the abruptness of the situation? Or did he really pin you against the wall as if his life depended on it? You surely felt like it was the last one… But could it be you the one who wanted to believe it for dear life?

    No, of course, not.

    The warmth of his hands still lingered there on your skin from time to time, and the soft pressure in your lips seemed to be carved at the back of your mind. You hated that sometimes you pressed your lips with your thumb ─ the same pressure though not the same way he did ─ just to snap out of it a second too late. You also couldn’t forget the way he tilted his head to deepen a kiss that didn’t really happen… The way the realization washed over you right at that second.

    It wasn’t disappointment… It was something else.

    You could still feel how his touch changed on that second… The hold was firm and consistent… It was like he didn’t want to let you go; like something just switched on his head and triggered something that felt so much like… You gulped down once more, still refusing to stress that thought out. The way your breaths mingled and hitched… Faltered… It was almost painful to know that it didn’t really happen.

    There was it…

    Desire and passion.

    The urges of a single woman who hadn’t been getting some in a while.

    “It was a fake kiss” You finally answered her but by now, Paris knew too damn well where your thoughts were wandering around a second earlier.

    “Yeah, but it seemed pretty real for anyone who took a glance at it” She reminded you, and the suggestive hint under her tone made you scoff “And I don’t want to say it—“

    “Then just don’t” You grimaced at her.

    “—But I think both of you were pretty into it even for a fake kiss…” She grinned at you teasingly, and the tired sigh that left your lips seemed to fuel her “I can remember quite well how you just let your hands right on his chest… I don’t recall you pushing him away, you know?” her grin spread all over her face “I think you enjoyed feeling him under your touch a whole lot…” She raised her eyebrows, throwing you a knowing look that made you huff, rubbing your face in distress.

    Why did she have to say that?!

    You clenched your fists, trying to suppress the memories that you didn’t need to have right now… So what if his chest felt so warm and firm under his shirt? So damn fine under your touch? What about the way the water droplets seemed to caress his tanned skin? So what if the very same droplets must have rolled down and down and down and… Well, all the way down from his throat to his collarbone to his chest to… You couldn’t help but lick your lips, shaking your head to dismiss the thought.

    It didn’t matter.

    The way he bought you coffee and waited for you on Monday? It didn’t matter. The way his damp hair gave him a sexy vibe that looked like a plead for being warmed up on a cold Tuesday? It didn’t matter. The way he was trying to impress you with good food? It didn’t matter. The way he kept visiting you at your work to ask for indications? It didn’t matter. The way he kept flirting and teasing you around? It didn’t matter.

  None of it mattered because Hyunjin had been pretty clear before.

  He wanted you as a friend.

  A good friend.

   “I think…” You trailed off, darting your eyes away from her “I may…” You gulped down, reconnecting your gazes before sighing heavily “I guess I’m feeling attracted to him…” You admitted.

    It probably wasn’t the reaction she was expecting because Paris just let her mouth hang open as her eyes widened, utterly in shock to hear it coming out of your mouth. You pursed your lips, feeling kinda embarrassed by her reaction, averting your gaze once more as you played with your own fingers, refusing to look at her. Was it that strange for you to feel… Well, some kind of silly attraction towards your stupidly handsome friend?

    You didn’t think so.

    “You don’t need to be so surprised… It’s not like I’m a criminal or something” You muttered, peeking at her for a split of a second before focusing on your hands once more “I think the fake kiss kinda… Awoke something? Like a tiny little spark or something… Nothing too important or any—“ You were just rambling at this point.

    “No!” She blurted, hands waving exaggeratedly in front of her body “I mean- Yes! I’m not… I mean… It’s not that I’m shocked, I’m just…” She floundered her hands around, trying to find the right words in her mind “I think it’s great!” She chortled “Oh my God… Yeah, I think it’s great! It’s great that you have a crush on him or something!” She chirped, and you couldn’t help but frown.

    “How is it great?” You asked warily “We’re literally just friends and he’s the hugest fuckboy we had ever met” You reminded her “There is nothing great in it… Actually, I think that’s the worst thought my brain had ever had” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

    “He’s not that bad!” She retorted eagerly “He’s actually really sweet!” She added quickly, trying to convince you as she patted your knee “I mean… He’s smart! Isn’t he? You guys are always arguing in class!” You arched your brow at the distorted way to boost him “He also has good grades! I know you like smart guys” She threw you an insistent look.

  Well… You were not so sure the attraction had much to do with his brains.

    “He’s also really funny! You’re always laughing at things he says!” She kept her monologue “He also likes the foods you like! He’s always spending time at the hot dog stand! He even knows your favorite food by now!” She was so excited at all this that it was almost like she was selling him to you “He has an amazing taste for TV shows! I can testify that” She smiled proudly “And he’s also interested in your things! He’s reading the books you like and everything!”

    Yeah… She kinda had a point, to be honest.

    “You said yourself that he had been flirting! So… I mean- It has to mean something, right?” She asked filled with hope, looking at you expectantly “He wouldn’t flirt with someone he doesn’t like! So to the very least, he likes you!” She clasped her hands together, excited.

    “He has been flirting with me even when we hated each other” You pointed out skeptically, and she groaned in frustration.

    “Okay! He’s a fuckboy, I get it! Flirting is what he does” She rolled her eyes, impatient “But he hasn’t been fucking anyone for a while! He has a crush on someone and he’s being really romantic about it!” She insisted, making your chortle.

    “Yeah… Because not fucking people around when you like someone is a great romantic gesture” You sneered “You sound too… Eager to make your point” You narrowed your eyes, tilting your head in suspicion “You’re not being the usual…” You cleared your throat to imitate her “I ship you guys so much!” You chirped mockingly, clapping your hands repeatedly in a short and rapid motion “You’re… Did he tell your something?” You asked curiously.

  “What are you talking about?!” She asked in a high-pitched tone, snorting in a too anxious way to be natural “It’s just that you’ve never shown interest in anyone before! I’m excited!” She dismissed your thought, waving her hand at you “I’ve been waiting for this! The day you would talk to me about boys and stuff like this!” She whined, and for a moment she really did sound sincere enough for you to believe her.

    “It doesn’t matter anyway” You shrugged “You said so yourself… He’s been crushing on someone” You pointed out, uncrossing your arms and returning your gaze to the TV “Also, it’s not like I want to fuck him… Too much trouble, right? I know he isn’t the type to attach… He wouldn’t risk our friendship just to get his dick wet” You reasoned.

    “What if he’s crushing on you?” She asked unsurely, glancing at you.

    “Yeah, right!” You just laughed it off, gesturing for her to hit the play.

[alonely-dreamer]

The Valuable Sun | Chapter 23 (Part 3)

Summary: Brooke and Eric have work to do.

Pairing: Eric x OC

Warnings: 18+

A/N: Please, note that I am French so there might be some mistakes here and there.

Words: 2688

Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6| Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 (Part 1) | Chapter 23 (Part 2)

Tags: @parabatai-winchester​

To say that Brooke and Sookie were having a hard time was an understatement. Sookie, after killing Debbie and having Pam turn Tara into a vampire, was judged and hated by all, and she had come back from work a wreck, and had dove into the cabinet were gran had always kept the alcohol. She turned on the stereo, and the loud music woke Brooklynne up.

She had spent the entire day in bed, and even though she kept waking up and kept having the worst lucid dreams, she stayed under the covers until way after sunset.

Not only the music was loud, but Brooke could hear her sister’s devastating thoughts. She had cast Bill away from her mind, she had enough humans judging her for her to worry about the traitorous bastard her vampire ex-boyfriend had turned out to be. She was so drunk she couldn’t hear Brooke think really, really, loudly that she wished she’d turn down the music a bit. Perhaps Sookie didn’t even know her sister was in her bedroom upstairs. She rarely were anymore.

Lafayette called. He had found Sookie’s car destroyed against a tree, and wanted to check on her. She was fine, apparently, she had jumped out of the car at the right time, and had even found it funny. She must be really drunk, Brooke thought.

She heard another train of thoughts approach the house, but his smell told her who he was before she could even hear anything. Sookie was waiting for another well deserved scolding from the werewolf but was surprised to hear Alcide had told Debbie’s parents some lie about how the Alpha from their pack had slept with her then killed her. Good. Because if Alcide had told the truth and Sookie had been sent to jail, not much would have been left of the werewolf after that night.

She tried to tune out the party that was going on downstairs, but it was either listening to Alcide and Sookie’s drunk thoughts about each other or thinking about her own issues. And she really didn’t want to think about Eric at the moment.

When Sookie and Alcide started to make out on their grandmother’s couch, she thought about leaving the house, not only to give them some privacy but also because she really didn’t want to hear any of it.

But then she heard his voice. Or rather, his thoughts. Bill was standing right there, outside of their house, watching the werewolf and the fairy take each other’s clothes off. A creep until the end. Brooklynne felt like fighting, and he had just given her a reason to beat his ass.

She sped out of her house, wearing nothing but a tight shirt and silk shorts and went straight to Bill whom she pushed away with supernatural strength. The King of Louisiana landed in the cemetery near the house.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as if he were still standing right in front of her.

It took a couple of seconds for him to get back on his feet and return to his spot.

“You know, I am still your King.”

“What are you gonna do?”

Bill sighed. “I get that you’re mad, but…”

“But nothing. Leave my sister alone.”

“I didn’t come here for Sookie.”

“What then?”

“I told him to meet us here,” Eric said as he appeared beside his King. “Granted, he could’ve picked a better spot.”

“Weren’t we supposed to go with Alcide?” she asked, remembering the plan. “He’s drunk now.”

“Clearly,” Eric mumbled.

“Let’s sober him up,” Bill said, and Brooke had no doubt he was more than happy to put a stop to the party.

***

Alcide took them to Doug, the employee that had found the hole in the parking lot. The werewolf had been smart not to ask about the obvious tension between the vampires while they drove in his van to the site.

Doug was a chubby man almost as tall as Alcide. His hair was longer, and so was his beard. He seemed shy and squeamish, and didn’t feel comfortable with whatever was happening. They had taken them to Russell’s former resting place where fresh cement had been poured to cover the hole. Brooklynne asked Doug to hold her hand and close his eyes and focus on that night, on what he saw. He had been glamoured by the vampire who had dug up Russell and it was harder for her to get any useful images from his mind.

“It’s a woman,” Brooke said. “She’s digging up Russell with her hands.”

Russell appeared like a bloody overgrown baby with no skin and the memory made Doug start to shake in fear.

“What the fuck is this?” he asks as if he were living it for the first time.

“Wait,” Brooke squeezed his hand harder as he tried to step away. “It’s Nora,” she breathed out.

“That’s not possible,” Eric said, trying to ignore Bill’s ‘I told you so’ look.

“She has the same necklace.”

“It could be any member of the Authority, then. Do you see Nora’s face?”

“No, just the necklace.”

“So we don’t know for certain it’s her,” Eric insisted. “It’s not Nora, it can’t be. She thought Russell was dead. She risked her life to free us.”

“Can I go now?” Doug asked.

But they were far from done.

The woman, whom according to Eric was not Nora, had Doug scoop Russell up like a baby and take him into an abandoned facility at the other end of town. That was their next destination.

In the van, Eric and Bill kept arguing about Nora while Brooklynne, helped by Doug’s blurry memory, led Alcide to Russell’s location.

“She’s a traitor and a liar, just like her brother,” Bill spat at the sheriff who showed fangs at the insult. Bill followed suit.

“Take that back,” Eric growled.

But the fight was cut short as Bill’s phone started ringing. Brooke couldn’t help but listen.

“Hello?”

“Hey, guys. It’s Molly. Remember me? Giving you a shout-out to let you know your countdown has started.”

“Our countdown?”

“Yeah, your iStakes are set to activate at dawn. Bummer, right?”

“There must be some kind of mistake.”

“No, I’m launching a test. Is your iStake glowing?”

Brooke took a look at the two vampires at the back of the van. Eric opened his jacket and a red light was coming from under his shirt, right where his heart was. iStake. It sounded stupid, but scary. That was what she had felt the previous night when he had held her against his chest. And that stupid but scary thing would kill Eric if they didn’t find Russell before the end of the night. She looked up at her maker with a heart and eyes full of worry. They wouldn’t have time after all. She wouldn’t have time to forgive him. And as he stared back at her, she saw in his eyes that it was okay. That he knew.

“Yeah, they’re glowing…”

“Cool. Means we’re good to go. Good luck. And if you don’t make it, it’s been rad serving you. Peace out.”

Brooklynne wanted to tear that Molly apart for the total indifference she showed at her maker’s True Death. But she had bigger problems. They all did.

Doug was reluctant to enter the building, but all Alcide wanted was for it to be over, so he dragged him in and started looking.

“Wolves have been here,” he sniffed.

“They come with Russell,” Bill said with a sigh, wondering which would kill him first, the iStake or a werewolf.

The building was an abandoned asylum. Brooklynne would find it ironic that Russell would hide here but she was too anxious to find it even remotely funny.

They dragged Doug, or rather Doug led them, through Brooke, down to the morgue, walking pass freshly severed hands and other dead bodies being eaten by rats.

“Well, at least we’re in the right place,” Eric said.

“The morgue,” Bill thought aloud as they walked pass the indications on the wall. “How convenient.”

Helped by a flashlight, Doug and Alcide followed the vampires into the darkness of the basement. Hearing, or perhaps sensing something Doug couldn’t, the vampires revealed their fangs as Alcide said:

“We’re being watched.”

Doug had reached his limits and let go of Brooklynne before he ran away. Knowing it was a bad idea to leave the human alone in this abandoned asylum where a three thousand year old psychopath was hiding, Alcide went after him. It was only when Doug started screaming that the three vampires followed him.

They found what seemed to be Russell’s pantry, where over a dozen humans were hanging from hooks like pigs in a butchery. A man started begging for his life, begging for them to take someone else, anyone else but him.

“Where do they take the prisoners?” Bill asked him.

“Down the hallway. There’s screaming and then there’s not!”

“What do we do with them?” Brooke asked.

“We’ll come back for them after we’re done with Russell,” Eric said before turning around and exiting the room, followed by the rest of his suicide squad.

Stakes in hands, they made their way to the end of the hallway where they found Russell lying on a hospital bed. He looked pale and sick, even coughed a few times. He looked almost human. Almost.

“Ah, miss Stackhouse. I see you’ve joined us,” he said with an eerie smile.

“We came here to finish what we started,” Eric told him as he approached.

“Well… give it your best shot.”

Russell’s smile grew bigger before Alcide, who was still standing in the hallway, behind Brooke, got jumped by a wolf.

“Eric!” Brooke shouted as a wolf launched itself at her maker.

She went to help him but was stopped by Russell who positioned himself between her and the Viking.

“Mmh, you’re just what the doctor ordered,” he smirked. “I’m sure becoming one of us just made your fairy blood even stronger.”

He trapped her against a wall and as he aimed for her throat she used her light to push him away. His back hit the wall at the other end of the hallway and he collapsed on the floor painfully.

“Yeah,” he cackled like a maniac as he sat up and leaned against the wall, “there is that aspect of you which I loathe.”

Eric killed the wolf that was after him then sped towards Russell. He crouched to get to his level then seized his face and made him look away from Brooklynne and directly at him.

“Look at me. I want to be the last thing you ever see,” he growled as he directed his stake towards his heart.

But before he had the chance to make a big mistake, Bill had his own stake aimed at Eric’s heart.

“He dies, we die. Most certainly. But if we take him back alive, maybe we don’t have to die.”

“Unlikely.”

“But not impossible.”

“Eric! Please,” Brooke begged. “He’s right!”

Eric snarled but eventually let go of his stake and put his fangs away. Russell used this short moment of weakness to pick up the disregarded weapon and attack the Viking. In less than a second, Eric was on his back, Russell on top of him, the sharp tip of the stake on his heart. Brooke moved fast and once again used her light to push Russell away from the man she loved.

It all happened really fast, and Brooke barely had time to register what was happening, as a group of heavily armed soldiers came in. Half of them had their guns pointed at Russell and the other half at her own heart.

“Freeze!”

Russell surrendered without protest, the red lights now aiming at his chest. One move and he’d be a pool of blood.

A tall, black man all dressed in black, from his shoes to his cap, joined them and stared at Brooklynne like she was the worst thing he had ever seen in his entire life. Eric quickly positioned himself between her and the man who was obviously the one giving orders here.

“What is this?” he asked with a strong accent.

“She’s mine,” Eric growled.

“Yours?”

“My progeny.”

There was no hiding anymore, no lying anymore. They had seen it. The light, the speed. It was useless to deny it, they were damned either way, and if they had to die tonight, they were at least going to be honest about it.

“What is she?”

… Well, half a truth was better than a complete lie…

“She’s a vampire.”

Russell chuckled.

“Lie,” the commander hissed.

“I turned her myself.”

“I suppose we will see what Guardian has to say about… this,” he said, looking around at the room where two dead werewolves were lying naked next to Bill. “Wolf and human are here,” he continued as Alcide appeared behind him, buttoning his jeans. “Why?”

“Doug led us here,” Bill started to explain. “Nothing that a little glamouring won’t take care of.”

“Do it,” the commander agreed before he exited the room.

After thoroughly glamouring Alcide, Eric made sure he got out safely and wasn’t stopped by any of the soldiers that the Chancellor had brought with him.

“He’s fine, he got in his van and is driving home,” Eric told Brooklynne as he saw the worried look in her eyes, though she didn’t worry about Alcide, she knew the werewolf would be okay.

Eric sighed.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he cupped her cheeks with his hands. “This is what I wanted to keep you safe from.”

He placed a kiss on her forehead before bringing her to his chest. He rested his chin on her head as she hugged him back. Still, no word came out of her mouth.

***

Chancellor Akinjide seemed impressed, and though he wouldn’t let Brooklynne go, he had stopped looking at her with disgust but rather with curiosity.

“No one thought you two would actually be able to deliver Russell Edgington,” he told them as he led them out of the building and into a van. “Guardian will be extremely pleased.”

“Pleased enough to not execute us?” Eric asked as he sat next to Brooklynne.

“Only Lilith knows that.”

“As only she knows all,” Bill replied with a smirk.

The chancellor didn’t reply as he closed the doors of the van, trapping them inside the vehicle.

“Who’s Lilith?”

“Enough with this religious bullshit already,” Eric sighed. “Lilith can fucking blow me.”

“No, she certainly cannot!”

Bill chuckled.

“Lilith is like the God of vampires,” he explained.

“And why are you suddenly so into it?” Eric asked his King.

“I’m just covering my ass.”

“Are you telling me the Authority is a religious government?”

“It could be worse,” Eric said. “They could take the word of the Vampire Bible literally.”

“The what? The what?!”

“At least the sanguanista aren’t in charge…”

“Who…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Eric told her as he took her hand in his. “I’ll explain on the way to New-Orleans.”

“New-O…” she stopped. “Are we… are they… Are we going to die tonight?”

She caught his eyes and saw. They were most probably going to be executed tonight, and she would be questioned and experimented on and maybe they’ll use her blood to give the sun to all vampires… And everything he had done to keep her safe was crumbling down on him, breaking him apart as this voice inside of his head screamed at him that it was his fault and that he should have known better.

He wiped a tear off her cheek and took her chin between his fingers. He tried to give her his most sincere smile as he said: “I love you.” And he didn’t wait for her to say it back because hearing those words coming out of her mouth would kill him before dawn. So he kissed her forehead and rested his cheek on her head, hoping, praying to whatever God there was that he hadn’t just sentenced the woman he loved to death.

[mollymarymarie]

20 questions Writer’s Edition

Thanks @blitheringmcgonagall for tagging me in this! 

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

34

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

696,047

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Harry Potter (Marauders Era) Marvel (Stucky, Bucky/OC, Pietro/OC) And then one about Sam Kiszka from Greta Van Fleet (that I wrote as a commission, sort of) and one I wrote about Lee Pace (cause I saw it in a dream lol)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The Lad That Loved You - sort of canon Hogwarts-era fic with a twist on The Prank (Remus and Sirius pretend to fight to cover up their relationship)

When It Counted - Remus gets spiked with Veritaserum and makes Sirius (and everyone else) believe it was Amortentia to cover up the truth

Vow Under the Covers - Remus is getting married. And not to Sirius. And Sirius has to decide if he can live with that.

Save Me, Save Me, Save Me - Remus thinks Sirius is in love with his neighbor and offers to help cook her dinner (Sirius and Marlene have to pretend to be attracted to each other, despite being VERY GAY, to cover up Sirius’ feelings)

Heavy In Your Arms - Sirius is the Slytherin prefect and has to nurse Remus Lupin back to health after a vicious full moon 

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

ABSOLUTELY - comments make my whole day, my whole week, I want people who take the time to comment to know that I LOVE THEM DEARLY

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

It’s a one-shot, but the angstiest ending is definitely in Where The Willow Don’t Bend (the story is about Remus becoming one of the ghosts at Hogwarts, so it’s OBVIOUS that it is not going to exactly end ... happily)

7. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Generally, I tend to write all my fics with happy endings? Real life has enough terrible endings on its own AND I’M HERE TO ESCAPE FROM THAT OKAY 

But honestly, I think the ending in Heavy In Your Arms is QUITE happy :)

8. Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I’ve never written a crossover! I don’t write for enough fandoms to have done that, I guess. Mostly just HP and Marvel and there isn’t a lot of room for crossover there, lol (besides, I haven’t written for Marvel in ages)

9. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Somewhat. In Show Me Everything I Missed, I had someone tell me they were disappointed with how I made Remus be the emotional weight-bearer of the fic. But it was DIRECTLY after Sirius had gone through a VERY traumatic event, so of course Remus would be trying to help him through it. I get where they were coming from, and I guess I should be honored that my characters made them upset? isn’t that kind of the point of angst?? 

10. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I do. For me, I went to private school (read: religious), so it was heavily instilled in me that sex is bad and disgusting and dirty, but then you get married and suddenly it’s beautiful and holy and important? So it took me a long time to be comfortable with sex in general, even more so with the idea of writing it down, but the idea of “smut” is kind of nonsensical to me. We go through all these things as human beings and those are all okay to write and to read and to experience, but a BASIC HUMAN NEED for most people is something to be hidden?? I’m going on a rant, but basically, I’m tired of the stigma, I guess.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not ... directly?? I have had people tell me, after the fact, that they posted my fic on a site outside of AO3 but it was still listed as being written by me, but I didn’t have an account with that site. I was still sort of weirded out by that one. 

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes! I had someone ask my permission to translate to ... Italian? I think? I can’t quite remember, but that was kind of cool, I guess. Again, it’s sort of iffy with those things because I think this was on a third-party site, too, so I was kind of indirectly attached to it.

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

I never have! I have a problem with deadlines and working as a group looool I think i have control issues?? hahahahah 

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Wolfstar, hands down. I’ve been writing Wolfstar for, gosh, almost ten years. Which, comparatively is not that long, but it’s longer than any other ship for me

15. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I have a couple WIPs for characters that are NOT Wolfstar that I’d like to finish (mostly the one about Cassidy from Preacher, because I have a MASSIVE Joe Gilgun crush) but I haven’t written on it in YEARS so it’s probably not happening

16. What are your writing strengths?

oh gosh. okay, so i’m not good at answering these. I think I write smut relatively well? I do pretty good angst I think?? My characterization is usually something people enjoy? (honestly, i just write them as MY own versions of the character, but people seem to agree with me for the most part??)

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I FOUND THIS OUT RECENTLY - i am not always good at following through with a plan for a fic and also i am not good at writing down what i see in my head. for example, if a character has black hair and glasses in my head (but maybe not necessarily in canon), i often have to go back and add these details because halfway through, i’ll be like DID I EVEN TELL THEM WHAT HE LOOKS LIKE AT ALL??? 

18. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

oh i’m SHITE at it. I wish I could speak another language well enough that I could incorporate it into my fics, but I doubt that will ever happen for me! (I had quite a bit of French dialogue in We Can Pretend and it went okay, but I did have someone tell me I had a grammatical error because I just used Google Translate lol)

19. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

this is going to be a HILARIOUS answer, but ... the Good Charlotte fandom. I never posted it, just my friends read it (I had quite a few fics about boys in bands back then, I was sixteen) but yeah it was a total soap opera. Like. outrageous.

20. What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

They all have uniquely special places in my heart, but I have two favorites:

We Can Pretend - Remus and his father are the butlers for the Black family, and Remus has to figure out how to take care of Sirius while hiding his feelings

Heavy in Your Arms (the Slytherin!Sirius one, and also Ravenclaw!Remus!)

[yeojaa]

IDK IF UR STILL TAKING REQUESTS🥺🥺🥺 sorry if IM botherinh😭😭 BUT MYBE A FINDERS KEEP HERS drabble where jk n oc get in to an argument after chap 3 n jk apologizes or something like that😭😭🥺😭🥺🥺

[ read part one / main story ]

pairing.  jjk x f!reader.  rating.  general.  tags.  this is soft angst. JK being his usual idiot self, reader being... well, sad, and yeah. just pain (but w a resolution. ish).  wc. 1.5k.  beta reader.  @hobi-gif beta’d a bit of this but i wrote most of it after so any dumb mistakes are my fault and my fault alone. 🤡  author note.  this isn’t 100% what you requested but... the first part kind of is, and then this is the resolution (because people requested it). if you’d like another drabble, please feel free to request!

In true fashion, Jungkook tries to fix the problem in the only way he knows how:  with money.

He puts the two of you up at the Four Seasons for the entire week, orders room service at all hours of the day and has treats from all of your favourite spots in the city delivered.  (Macarons, candied nuts, that one bakery that does those salted honey pies you inhale like a wild animal.)  He runs baths for you, fills the tub with your favourite scents (always Diptyque) and massages his tattooed hands all over your scalp.  He makes sure you wake up to the smell of French toast and fall asleep on a bed of roses, curled up in his arms and little else.  

He spoils you until you can hardly see the floor, designer shopping bags strewn throughout the suite.  (His sisters help him decide what to buy, mouths sealed shut otherwise.  They know better than to get too involved in his relationship with you.)  Dinner is somewhere new every night but always at a Michelin-starred restaurant, space booked out to the extent it’s just the two of you and a bouquet of your favourite flowers.

Of course, he thinks things are better.  Assumes they must be, because there’s never been a time where money hasn’t solved his problems.  No matter how much, throw enough of it at something and the problem will go away.

But you don’t go away.  Neither does your sadness.

“Baby.”  It’s your last night together before you’re back to some semblance of normalcy (not that Jungkook’s life was very normal to begin with).  He thinks he’ll miss it more than you will, if your lacklustre reactions have been any indication.

You’re fresh out of the shower - you’d turned down his offer of a bath, locked the door on your way into the washroom - and wrapped in a fuzzy white robe.  “What?”  You’re focused on running a comb through your hair, unbothered by your boyfriend who sits at the edge of the bed, legs wide and hands extended toward you.

It bothers him a bit (read: a lot).  You’re better than you were, offering tiny smiles when he begs for them, accepting his kisses without complaint. It isn’t you though.  Not the snark and the sass and the decades of friendship that normally thread your relationship.  A book with its spine about to snap, held together by cobweb.

Despite the time you’ve spent together the last few days - almost every hour, sans when you were at work - you’ve been distant still.  Not mean, of course (no, never mean, because you’ve always been soft on him) but different.  Softer and harder all at once.

“Come here,”  he coaxes, fingers curling around your wrist, pulling you between his knees effortlessly.

Normally, you’d curl around his shoulders, rake your nails through his hair.  This time, you only allow yourself to be with him, palms flat upon the ridges of muscle plating his back.  You don’t pass affection into his hair, don’t form a cradle for him to rest his head.  (It doesn’t feel like home - not like it should.)

Jungkook hates it.  Absolutely fucking abhors it.  He wants his girlfriend - his best friend, his love - back.  Not this spectre that’s taken up your space. 

(He almost forgets that he’s the reason you’re the way you are.)

“What’s wrong?”  The shape of his mouth curls, bottom lip pouting into that trademark expression that usually has you relenting, melting into a puddle of goo in his arms. 

This time, you shrug, movement dislodging the soft soft terry cloth from your shoulders.  “Nothing.”  Dumb as he might be - oblivious in the way only someone like he can be - he can tell you’re lying.  Offering the untruth right between your teeth, expecting him to accept it.

That bothers him even more.  It’s one thing to put up an act, entertain him as if you were a court jester.  It’s entirely another to treat him as if he’s a child, feeding him lies without a care.

(Notwithstanding the fact that Jeon Jungkook is, for all intents and purposes, a manchild.)

“You’re a shit liar,”  he retorts, grumpy, coloured green and blue until his insides feel like mud.  It’s strange, the discomfort that sinks beneath his skin and sticks his bones together.  Like wading through quicksand or a bog, stuck to a place he doesn’t want to be.  “Talk to me.”

“About what?”  You’re deflecting, refusing to meet his stare, holding yourself within the confines of your robe as if you can’t bear to open up to him.

That hurts more than he expects.  Slips sadness in alongside the frustration.

“About what’s bothering you.”  The fact he has to do this is driving him mad.  It’s akin to pulling teeth and he hates the dentist.

You scoff then - which he doesn’t expect.  The sound kicks him right in the stomach, a sucker punch he doesn’t see coming.  “You want me to talk about you?”  It’s an uncharacteristically mean answer, brought on by whatever’s been bothering you, turning blood to battery acid.

“Excuse me?”  

“You heard me.”  

For the briefest moment, he considers lashing out in response - giving back exactly what he’s getting.  But then he spies it, just there, past the usual warmth of your stare.  It’s hiding behind crystallised amber, peeking past the edges.  So much sadness it steals his breath right from his lungs, stripping him bare of red hot fury and leaving him lily white and lovesick.   

When Jungkook speaks again, it’s feather soft, terribly light, begging and pleading in a single utterance.  “Please.”

There’s silence for a beat, then another.  It stings for each second it continues, treading misery all over the thing that beats in his chest.  He’s not used to this.  (You’re his first and only love.  A part of him is grateful for that;  another hates even this.)

He almost asks again - readies it on the tip of his tongue.

Then you’re unloading, giving him everything he’d asked for and more.   

“I love you,”  you tell him in a reedy voice, uneven like the foundation you’ve built together.  Haphazardly thrown into place and hoped for the best on.  “But you’re an idiot.”   

(He deserves that, he supposes.)

Your voice is static, stretched thin and gossamer thin.  Cheek pressed to his curls, you find comfort in your hiding place, as if shielded by the dark.  “I’ve loved you for years and that’ll never stop.  But when you do stupid shit, it’s so hard.”  Your words are honeyed, thick and heavy as they lay into each strand, seep quietly into his ears.  Where they’d normally fill him with ecstasy, delight, send him on a sugar high - these ache, sink right to the pit of his stomach.  “I would give you anything.  Anything.”

“I know.”  Really, he does.  He’s known that since you were kids.  It’s why he’d fallen in love with you, even before he’d realised he had.

“Then why do you test me?”  

It’s not rhetorical.  You want an answer - something real you can hold between your hands.  Something to act as the salve for all the hurt, to bandage the wounds left behind by your uncertainty.  (He’s the same as you - needs to know he means as much to you as you do him.  But you show it in different ways and that’s what’s brought the two of you to this point.)

“I’m sorry,”  he answers, sliding his arms more securely around your waist, face buried into the soft fabric of the robe, into the warmth that lies beneath, into the heart that beats a rhythm identical to his.

“I don’t want sorry.”  After all, you’d already gotten one.  Weeks ago, when he’d pulled the stupid sophomoric stunt, he’d apologised.  Had been apologising every day since then, but in all the wrong ways.  “I want better.” 

It’s as if all of his bones have been cracked open, the weight of your words settling like sand, discomfort and grit snapping his head to attention.  “You want better?”  There’s nothing but alarm in Jungkook’s expression, eyes wide, throat knotted in worry.  “I—”

As always, you read him like an open book.  Hands smooth down the sides of his cheeks, palms searing over his reddened cheeks.  “Not like that.”  You’re reassuring him even as it should be the other way around.  (How ironic.)

He exhales a deep breath.  Doesn’t tear his stare from yours.  

“I just need you to be better.”  You’d never ask this of him if it weren’t important, if you didn’t feel his ignorance and immaturity splintering your insides into glass shards.  You’ve always accepted him exactly as he was, all the good and bad and ridiculous.  

This is different though.  You love him.  You’re taking a chance with him just as he is with you.  Laying your heart in his hands and trusting him to keep it safe, handing out the key in the hopes of building a home.  

So you ask - for both your sakes. 

He promises he will be and you believe him.  Have to.

For both of your sakes.

[staytiny-angel]

Grace and Country 2/5

Rating: M

Pairing: 'Hangman' Adam Page/F!OC, One-Sided Kenny Omega/F!OC

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Harrassment.

Co-Written with @lilmissriottbliss

Taglist - @moxleyunstable, @axelwolf8109

Summary: Ava and Adam go on that date, it goes about you'd expect with the Dark Order involved, Things with Kenny come to a head.

"Violet!"

"Ava? Mon Cher Smackdown is about to start why are you screaming?"

Violet gave Finn a look before putting her friend on speaker "Mon Roi is here too, what has you so excited?"

"ADAM ASKED ME OUT ON A DATE!" The younger woman yelled

Ava could hear Violet cursing in French from a small distance. “Really? That’s amazing! Give me details now!”

“I lost my phone and he found it near your adopted brother and then Kenny was annoying me again so he covered for me by saying we were going on a date so we’re actually going on one!”

“I’m so happy for you!”

“Could you do me a solid?” Ava asked

Of course darling," Violet agreed

"Could you guys not tell the big boss?" Ava begged "You know I love Seth to death, he's my dad shaped person but he wasn't happy about this whole AEW deal and he'll be even less happy to know I'm going out with one of their biggest stars"

Violet and Finn silently looked at each other before agreeing to the younger woman's request 

"We have you covered darlin" Finn said

"What are you going to do about Omega?I'm starting to worry. He's really not taking no for an answer"

“I honestly don’t know” Violet handed Finn her phone, taking out the one meant to contact family. “I think she’s going to threaten Malachi into watching over you” Finn laughed.

Ava sighed in relief. While Malachi Black, formerly Aleister to Violet, was dark and broody, he did scare Kenny with a simple stare.

“So how’s Mox doing?” Violet asked

"Good, he got Omega off my back last night at Dynamite, threatened him with Ruby." Ava said "He said something about promising Seth to look out for me?"

"Seth called him and Miro when you decided to go to AEW." Finn explained 

"Called in a couple of favors. You are the baby."

Ava rolled her eyes even though the couple couldn't see her "You've got to be kidding. I can take care of myself"

“We know you can take care of yourself, Seth has a overprotective complex” 

Ava sighed but didn’t disagree. “We got to go now, see you tomorrow!” Violet hung up.

Ava turned off her phone, seeing a text from Kenny. Rolling her eyes she deleted it. “Is he ever gonna get the point?” she asked herself before flopping on her hotel bed with a sigh. He thoughts turning to the next day and the date she'd been dreaming of for years. 

-Next Day-

She met Adam outside a café, the cowboy looking handsome in normal street clothes and without a certain purple and black group shadowing him.

“Wow, you look great” He said. As she grinned and twirled once, showing off the chic black suit she'd chosen for their date. 

“Hope you don’t mind but I invited Violet and Finn just in case your friends crash this”

Adam laughed. “They probably will ”

Inside the cafe, Finn and Violet were waiting at a four person table, surprisingly without their daughter in tow.

"Where's my honey bunches?" Ava said with a pout, that Adam found adorable

"Becky and Seth have her" Finn explained "Shes having a playdate"

“Next time you bring her” Ava pointed. Finn raised his hands and laughed. Violet slid over a black coffee to Adam. 

He accepted it with a smile. “So you’re both going after the top titles in Smackdown” he grinned.

“Yup!” Finn grinned. “It was fun in NXT but I wasn’t spending another week without my husband there” Ava sighed.

“It’s harder to get a title shot in AEW, I have no idea how to get to Britt”

“I lost the chance to be the inaugural champ because someone thought an ass deserved it” Adam muttered.

“Adam I think your shadows are here” Violet pointed to a booth in the corner

Sure enough, the purple and black clad Dark Order filled 2 corner booths, trying and failing to be inconspicuous.

"Oh god" Adam murmured "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have told them where we were going"

"They really care about you" Ava smiled at Adam causing that feeling to flutter in his chest again.

"You may not, have been the first AEW champion but you've got a shot at Kenny at All Out" Finn says

"Sure do" Adam says "I can't wait, I've owed Kenny an ass whipping for a while now"

“Fucking creep” Ava rolled her eyes. “How’s Paige?”

“You don’t know that from Mox?” Violet raised an eyebrow. Ava shook her head

“She’s ok, doing wonders with her makeup. Her and Sonya are planning a wedding”

Ava nodded. “Sorry about the Kingdom disbanding” 

Finn rolled his eyes. “Of course Vince brings up Shotzi and us but doesn’t want Kyle, Millie, Priscilla or Jordan”

Adam and Ava share a smile knowing while AEW wasn't a paradise by any means…it wasn't run by Vince. 

A loud bang sounded from the back of the restaurant and every turned to see one of the corner tables flipped on its side as John Silver looked around sheepishly. 

Adam dropped his head in his hands as Ava giggled "I'm sorry, I'm gonna go uh…handle this" he said rising from his seat and heading toward the back.

"They are quite the band of misfits aren't they?" Violet said as she tried not to laugh as they watched Adam easily lift the table back in place and start seemingly scolding them for crashing their double date.

"They love him, and with the entire….mess with the Elite…their very overprotective." Ava explained

“Reminds me of Seth” Violet said. Ava’s eyes widened.

“It totally is!” Finn laughed as Adam came back and sat down.

“They swear it’s just a coincidence they all wanted to come here on the same day and time as my date”

Violet flipped her hair and put on her flirty voice. “So this a date?

Adam blushed hard. “Um…well, it’s definitely not a…friend thing…we’re not friends. I mean we are friends!, but I want to be more then friends!" 

Ava blushed as she watched Adam flounder under Violet's question 

"Leave him alone, mo chroi" Finn finally rescued the younger man from his wife. 

“I was just being a good friend” Violet smirked.

Adam took a breath. “I don’t know why but I have a thing for goth people”

Ava looked at Violet.

“Really? Is that why you went to the Dark Order?”

“Honestly? Kenny ruined tag teams for me. The Bullet Club went to shit after you were kicked out”  

Finn’s eye twitched, remembering how the Young Bucks fucked him over.

“The Bullet Club is nothing to me now. They ruined it!”

“The Elite’s worse, nothing but kissing Kenny’s ass, apparently he was looking to go to Impact and take their top title”

“Thank god the old man bought them, Impact might have been the worse part of my career but AEW would have ruined them” Violet sipped her ice coffee.

Adam sighed.

“I don’t know what happened. One minute he was my brother, now he’s a stranger” Adam said quietly as Ava rubbed his back

"Its okay, your going to take the AEW title from him at All Out." Ava consoled him.

The 2 couples finished their meal and left the restuarant, Finn and Violet heading to the arena to get ready for Smackdown, and Ava and Adam walking though the city streets enjoying each other's company. 

"This has been great" Ava says as they finally end up back at the hotel

"We'll have to do it again sometime" Adam replied causing Ava to blush again.

"Maybe next time….just the two of us?" He asked softly

“No demon and vampires. No Dark Order” Ava agreed. Adam hugged her.

“Adam!” Evil Uno yelled. The pair looked at the stable. Anna walked over. “Well, the date was a success so Alex made you this” She handed a black jacket to Ava. It had a purple rose stitched in the back.

“Wow, Alex’s a suckup” Adam joked. “I’m totally wearing this next week” Anna smiled.

“C’mon Adam, before the idiots start screaming” 

He rolled his eyes but hugged Ava goodbye, kissing her hair before walking away.

The Next Week 

After spending the weekend and into the next week bouncing between elation over her successful date with Adam (including spending a hefty amount of time texting back and forth with the cowboy) and annoyance that Kenny just would not stop texting and calling, it was finally Wednesday and time for that weeks episode of Dynamite, at which Ava had a match against Nyla Rose.

 

Over the past few days she had gone hunting for more appropriate gear to compliment her new jacket and was now wearing black leather shorts with purple accents and a purple and black corset top. 

"Don't you look like a full fledged member of the misfit society, I really thought you'd have better taste Sweetheart" Kenny said walking up to her, the Young Bucks flanking him

“I’ve liked purple and black before the Dark Order existed” Ava snapped.

Kenny grabbed her arm. “Let go!”

“I just want what’s best for you” Kenny said fiercely 

“HEY!” Darby Allin hit Kenny with a skateboard.

“She’s said no to you for weeks now, get lost!” He roared, Ava seeing why Mox had pretty much adopted him.

Kenny looked panicked and all but ran. The Bucks, glaring at her as the followed

“Thanks” Ava said to Darby. “I hate that fucker”

"Join the club" Darby replied 

Later that night after beating Nyla Rose, Ava was celebrating in the ring when Kenny's music hit and The Elite surrounded the ring. 

"I really tried to do this in private Ava, baby but you just won't listen to me, you'd rather hang out with those losers instead of being part of The Elite"

“I. Am. Not. Your. Baby!” Ava screamed,.

Kenny stepped in, smirking. “Just accept the date”

The crowd began chanting variations of yes and no. 

Then the music of the Dark Order hit, Adam leading the stable to a beat down. Colt tackled Kenny, Adam waving sarcastically at him before going over to Ava, "You okay Darlin?"

"Yeah, fucking asshole. Why won't he leave me alone" 

"Ava, Ava!" Kenny panted, "I have a deal for you, since you and the drunk, seem so close lately, Next week….you and Adam against me and Britt Baker. You win, you get a title shot at All Out. You two lose, Cowboy loses his shot, and you go out with me"

Ava looked at Adam, who was clenching his jaw. Anna and Evil Uno nodded their heads.

Ava grabbed a mic. “We accept! And let’s raise the stakes!!! If we win and move on to kick you asses at All Out, you leave me the fuck alone!” 

Kenny gulped "Done!"

“I’ll add to that!” Adam yelled. “When I kick your ass, you don’t get to have a rematch as long as I’m champion. Let someone else get an opportunity”

"Deal!" Kenny said cockily "It doesn't matter anyway "You two are gonna lose and when you do...not only will Adam never get a shot at the AEW Championship,  Ava...baby...your all mine" 

[severetimetravelnerd]

I Don’t Know (ft. G Dragon and MINO) (3)

Part 3

While you and Minho talk about your past, Jiyong is forced to do a little introspection.

This series will be updated once a week, every Friday! No specific time though lol. It’s an AU where Jiyong has a younger sister and you’re her best friend! Featuring my OC Mirae as the Best friend. Just saying, it’s not related to any of the scenarios I’ve written so far. Please do leave me some comments or asks! I love receiving them! It’s also a bit of a love triangle situation, so yeah :)) There will be eventual smut in this series.

(I don’t own any of the images used. All credit goes to the original owners.)

I only write on this blog on tumblr, so if you see my work on any other platform, please let me know immediately.

Taglist:

@kwonnansi​

@unabashedturkeytreeslime​

@happiestgirlontheeastcoast​

@yee-hawwwwwwww​

@slayergroupie0128​

Please comment if you’d like to be added to the tag list:))

Word Count: 2260

WARNINGS: Some smut, some panic.

——————————————-

5 years ago

You were lost. And you were starting to panic. You and Mirae went to the park, not knowing that they were having some mega event that day, and now you were lost, separated from her. You were starting to feel panicky. There were too many people around you. You felt suffocated in that crowd. The noise was all starting to become one big blur. And your head was starting to spin. You were scared. That’s when you saw him. Jiyong. He was also there. He was there with a bunch of his friends. He was a little far away from you but he would help. You knew he would. So, you called him. You yelled his name, loud and clear, but in the noise of the crowd, it became far softer. But he heard you. And he turned around and saw you. And you knew he could see you yelling for his help, but he just wrapped his arm around the girl closest to him, turned around and walked away. That was the day you developed a fear of crowds. Later, you would lie to yourself and say he didn’t know it was you, but you knew he did.

 4 years ago

Jiyong walked into the bathroom at the lounge he was at, just to wash his hands. There was a man there inside, on the phone with someone. Jiyong quietly washed his hands while the man let out an obnoxious laugh.

“I’ll win the bet for sure. It won’t even take me three months to get into her pants.”

Jiyong stiffened, shooting the man a glare. How horrible.

“In fact, I’m sure it’ll be done in two weeks. Maybe even our next date.”

Jiyong grew even angrier.

“Her name? Oh, her name is Y/N L/N.”

Jiyong froze and suddenly, the air in that bathroom was terrifyingly cold and stifling. Jiyong straightened up and walked over to that pathetic excuse of a human being there, staring at him with ice cold eyes. The man began to stammer, wondering what was wrong. Before the guy could cut the call and put his phone away, all in the blink of an eye, Jiyong grabbed him by the collar, and slammed him against the sink counter, face down. Leaning close to him, Jiyong growled,

“You have one day to break up with her before I tell her myself and make you regret this bet.”

 ***

Minho’s tears slowly began to lessen and he just held on to you, enjoying the warmth and comfort of the moment. Playing with his hair, you leaned down to kiss his forehead. Sounding less upset, Minho asked again.

“Y/N, is there something about you and Jiyong hyung I don’t know about?”

You took a deep breath and braced yourself. This was not going to be easy.

“Yeah Minho, there is. Mirae and I have been friends for around fourteen years now. I liked Jiyong for seven of them. He was always horrible to me, so I don’t know why I liked him, but I did. And three years ago, I told him. And he rejected me. Terribly. And after that, I got out of his life and I removed him from mine. I needed to heal. I saw him for the first time after that tonight, which is what would have sparked his outburst.”

In a small voice, Minho asked,

“What about me?”

You felt your heart twist, hating that poor Minho, your ball of sunshine, had been so hurt. You climbed onto his lap, hugging him as you replied,

“Minho, you are what brought me out of my slump. You are the first man I’ve liked ever since. You are the man who made me forget Jiyong. Minho, Jiyong means nothing to me. I like you. And if you hadn’t asked me out, I would have asked you out.”

“You really like me for me? You’re not just using me to get over Jiyong hyung?”

“Oh sweetheart no. I genuinely like you. I care about you so much. I would not use you to get over Jiyong. The only reason I waited for this long to go out with you is because I wanted to be sure I wasn’t using you.”

He stared at you for a second before kissing you and pulling you closer.

“Okay, I trust you.”

Both of you smiled at each other, letting the tension dissipate. Your eyes lit up as you remembered his present.

“Minho, do you want to see your present now?”

“You got me a present? I thought the brownies were it.”

You deadpanned.

“Minho, I specifically said that they’re not.”

He smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry. I was too nervous to pay attention to what you were saying.”

You grabbed his hand and pulled him towards his room, where you had left your bag.

“Close your eyes and hold out your hands.”

Your heart melted when you saw his eyes light up from excitement as he did what you said. You slowly took out the paints from your bag and put the cloth wrapped package in his hand.

“You remember those French paints you were talking about? Well, here you go.”

Minho’s eyes widened as he stared up at you.

“Y/N, you have to be there in person to get these custom-made. How did you manage to get these here?”

You shrugged with a wide grin on your face.

“Mirae got back from France yesterday.”

“Y/N, this is crazy. This is incredible. I can’t-”

You interrupted him, your hands lightly trailing over his chest.

“Well, actually. I had one more thing in mind. But that’s only if you’re up for it.”

“What is it?”

“Let me show you.”

And you began by taking off his leather jacket, stripping until you were standing before him in your lingerie.

“Let me make you feel good tonight.”

You dropped down to your knees, hands reaching for his belt buckle, pausing to look at him for a minute.

“May I Minho?”

Minho gulped and nodded, his hand gently reaching down to hold your hair.

 Jiyong was at home, thinking about what happened at the party. He hated it. He hated you. And he hated that you were with Mino. He had no good reason to hate it, but he did. Mino was a good guy. You were a good person. If you were together, he should have been happy for you. Why then, did he feel the overwhelming urge to rip Mino’s arms off whenever he saw it wrapped around you? He tried calling you again, only for you to not answer. He was about to send you an angry text message asking why you weren’t taking any of his calls when he realised it. He didn’t have your number. He was nobody to you. He wasn’t a part of your life anymore. He knew nothing about your life. And you had cut him out of it. You had made that choice. And he hated it. His mind went back to a conversation he had with Mirae a few days after you confessed to him.

Jiyong was trying to seem casual about it, but he was looking for you. You would always come home for Friday movie nights. He was certain you’d come again. At least, he was trying to convince himself of that. He took a sip of his beer, trying to sound unconcerned when he asked,

“Y/N’s late again?”

Mirae didn’t even look up from her book when she replied.

“No, she’s not coming. Your brutal rejection hurt her feelings.”

Jiyong choked on his beer.

“She told you?”

“No, but I always knew. She won’t tell me either. She won’t want to make me take sides between you and her. For the record, I’d go with her.”

“I didn’t do anything, okay? I didn’t lead her on. She’s reading too much into what I said.”

“You don’t know yet, do you?”

“What?”

“You like her. You like her more than she likes you. That’s why you’ve always been so damn mean to her.”

Jiyong stared at Mirae for a minute before bursting out into laughter, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. She’s like another you to me.”

“That’s not true. That’s what you told yourself when you started liking her and realised she didn’t like you back. You never stopped liking her, but you did manage to convince yourself that you dislike her. And that’s why you’re always so mean to her; because talking to her reminds you of the loopholes in your plan.”

He laughed, but Mirae continued.

“I know I’m right, but she deserves better than you. You’ve treated her so horribly. You’ve been nothing but mean to her. You rejected her brutally. You’ve pushed her too far. She’s done. She’s not going to come back here. She’s never going to want to see you again. She will remove you from her life.”

Jiyong growled when the realisation that Mirae was right hit him. She wasn’t right about everything, because he definitely didn’t like you, but he didn’t think you’d cut him out of your life like she said you would. His head was hurting from thinking about this too much. He wanted release. And so, he did what he always did whenever he wanted to forget. He went clubbing.

Two hours later, Jiyong was drunk out of his mind in a private booth at a club. He had run into a bunch of acquaintances at the club and they invited a few girls to join them. One of them had made it clear that she was interested in him. Since he did not want to admit that he was still thinking about you, he played along. And so, when she gently trailed her fingers over his thigh, winked at him and walked away, he mindlessly followed her. Next thing he knew, he was making out with her against a wall in the back of the club. She had her arms wrapped his neck and he had one hand around her waist and the other up her shirt. And in all his drunkenness and anger, things started to blur. In his more vulnerable drunken state, he let his true desires come forward. Which is why as she reached for his belt, he let out a moan.

“Y/N.”

 Later that night, you and Minho lay in bed, limbs tangled. Minho was half asleep, but he still held you close, snuggling closer to you. You pulled him a little closer, covering him up with a blanket because you could see he was cold. You couldn’t sleep. You smiled as you played with Minho’s hair, thanking the world that he existed. He was the only reason you were over Jiyong. Your heart ached for Minho when you thought about his ex. You couldn’t understand why she would do that to him. You held him a little tighter, not wanting him to get hurt again. You leaned over to switch off the lights, and snuggling closer to him, you fell asleep.

That night, the first person to wake up from a nightmare was Minho. The two of you were at a party, but he had lost you. He was worried about you, so he started looking for you. He checked everywhere, but he couldn’t find you. The only room he hadn’t checked was the bedroom upstairs, which was occupied. Oh. It was occupied. With a sinking feeling in his heart, he went back to the room and opened the door. His heart broke. He saw Jiyong, with his head between your thighs, and you, with your hands gripping his head, moaning his name at the top of your voice. Jiyong pulled up for air and looked back. Seeing Mino, he winked and kissed you. And that was when Minho woke up. He stared at you, curled up against his side and he wrapped his arms around you tighter, trying to go back to sleep. He was terrified he would lose you. He just hoped that his fear wouldn’t affect your relationship.

A few hours later, you woke up too, eyes wide, mind barely able to comprehend what you just dreamt. You were in Jiyong’s apartment, watching a movie with him. From the way he had his arm around your shoulder and from the way you were resting your head against his, it was safe to assume you were dating him. Clearly, the movie was not interesting enough for him because soon after, he slowly started to trace circles on your thigh. You ignored him, but his hand kept moving higher and higher. You swatted it away, but within minutes his hand was back and this time, his lips latched onto the spot above your collarbones. Although he started off with gentle kisses, he soon started sucking harshly, a smirk on his face, because he knew you’d have to use concealer to cover that up for work the next day. You tried not to give in, but when he started sucking, you couldn’t help it and you moaned. With that, his smirk got deeper and he picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and kissing you, moved towards the bedroom. You woke up when the door slammed behind him, flushed. Suddenly, the room felt much too hot. You looked at Minho, his cheeks squished, fast asleep, and you felt your stomach twist in guilt. You hated that you had that dream. God, it was such a horrible nightmare.

Or was it?

-----

[wiypt-writes]

Rock ‘n’ Roll People In A Disco World

Part 1- Disco Down

Intro: It's range day. SWAT vs LAPD Special Crimes branch. You and your finance decide to have a bit of fun with the interdepartmental competition.

Pairing: Paul Diskant x Reader

Warnings: Bad language, Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar the reader and any other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

A/N: So yeah, I started another series. Bad WIYBUPT. But there aint enough Disco out there so I thought I’d rectify that situation. This is also another entry for @imanuglywombat​ ‘s  “Is That Even A Sex Position” weekly challenge. This position is called “Juicy Ass”. See here for more information.

Rock ‘n’ Roll People Masterlist // Main Masterlist

It was early in the morning, the first warm rays of the LA sunshine had barely begun warming the pavement when the two of you had started your day. Paul was already pouring you both coffee to go as you met him in the kitchen, dressed in your Swat training tee, utility pants and standard issue uniform boots, hair French braided back. You smirked at the dapper young detective before you, slacks, dress shoes, button down and tie. 

It'd been a gruelling last few weeks for you both. You were working a SWAT case with your unit and Paul was busy working an LAPD Vice officer's homicide. He would trudge in late at night, either from the precinct or more recently from a night out with Vice following some leads. You were always already asleep and he didn't want to wake you. He'd kiss you softly, shower, kiss you again and crawl into bed, hugging you close.

Now, you were both getting ready to head out, finally having slept in the same bed together for the first time in weeks. Given your nature, the two of you were playfully squabbling over the upcoming late afternoon's task, a joint fire arms training session between your unit, LAPD SWAT and Paul's unit. The joint time spent at the range always turned into pool of who'd win and, usually, was too close to call rounding off with each team going head to head in a final duel. 

And things were getting competitive in the Diskant home. 

"If I can make it," Paul grumbled, "we should sweeten the deal."

"You'll make it.” You popped a shoulder. “Paul Diskant doesn't miss a day at the range, nor friendly competition. So, name your terms?" You smirked mischievously over the rim of your mug, watching him adjust his tie. 

"Winner gets a favor." Paul devilishly replied. 

"What kind of favor?" You played along and the look on his face already made your insides squirm as he raised a brow and curled his lips further in his smirk. "Paul!"

"Y/N!" Paul mimicked, cutting the distance between you, big hands on your hips, thumbs rubbing along your shirt. "Baby, it's been days. This Vice case has me pulled away longer than I have been since I was a beat cop."

You rolled your eyes and wrapped your arm around his shoulder, fingers grazing the point where the short hairs of his buzz-cut met his neck. 

“Fine." You kissed him deeply, the taste of coffee on both your tongues but something that was just him too. "We'll call it a bonus." “Bonus...” he nodded. “I can run with that.”

“You couldn’t run a fucking bath, Disco.” "Oh Sweetheart, you're on." The challenge in his voice and mischief in his eyes lit a fire under you. You kissed him again and moved away, a swift smack from his hand to your ass made you yip but you kept walking. 

****

The drive into the station was quiet, you reading over your training schedule for the day and Paul driving. The only sound that filled the vehicle was the sound of him humming along to the radio, thumb tapping along to the beat of the song on his steering wheel, before you heard him let out a loud sigh.  

"I have some stuff to chase down this morning but if nothing pans out, I should be at the range with the rest of my unit."

"Well, then I'll hope it doesn't pan out, just so I can kick your ass with my Glock," you chuckled as he let out a groan.

"Baby, you know, watching you handle that Glock and riffle makes me horny as fuck right? Nothing like a woman that can shoot," Paul admitted. He took your left hand away from the file and pressed his lips to the top of it. He knew why you did it, but he still hated not seeing your diamond flashing on your finger all day. 

"Oh yeah?" You turned your standard issued sunglass covered eyes to him, "is that why you wanted to marry me?" 

Paul chortled, “one reason among the many."

He pulled into the carport and parked in his designated spot. You exited the vehicle and gathered your bag from the popped trunk. 

"See you at the range, don't be late, or I'll have to listen to Rodriguez bitch as she drives me home." You gave him a teasing kiss and slung your bag over your shoulder, walking away. 

"Hey, Y/N?" He called after you. You stopped and turned around to look at him, lifting your sunglasses to the top of your head. "Don’t waste too much energy today, huh? You’re gonna need all the strength you have tonight, Baby."

You chuckled to yourself, "Just show up, we'll talk energy later," you rolled your eyes and walked off, flipping him the bird over your shoulder. 

The scorching sun boiled across the training facility tucked between the hills of the valley, away from the hustle of the city and just far enough out of reach for civilians. Abandoned buildings and, green fields and a simulated neighborhood made up the grand, multi-million dollar facility. You and your team had been at it all morning, moving through the buildings in full tactical gear and safety equipment. Together you cleared buildings, fired upon fake assailants and suspects. You and your partner, Alma Rodriguez, even hit the weights and boxing bags to keep loose after a hand to hand session against Everett and Evans. To keep your trigger fingers hot and ready, you played a round of long range sniper poker, you of course beating the team with a straight flush, bullets hitting their targets dead center. 

It was the last hours of daylight by the time Special Branch showed up and you couldn't help but smirk as you watched Paul set up his gear from across the field. Long gone were his slacks and tie, and now, he was dressed in a tight black tee with the edges of his two bicep tattoos peeking out from the hem, and uniform issue pants and boots, his wrap arounds shielding those beautiful blues you loved getting lost in. 

You smirked as the two of you locked glances, his smile forming across plump lips. A cocky flick of his head was sent in your direction and you laughed, pulling a hundred dollar bill from your pocket and slapping it flat against the table. 

The competition started, pairing SWAT members against Specials, two by two until both your captains were the final two. 

"Shooters on the line," the facility command officer called. Each shooter stepped up, readying their rifles. Your team lined up behind your boss, Paul and his desk buddies watching from their side. "Stand by... Ready..." The whistle sounded and the first shots at their prospective targets were fired. 

Firing judges followed behind each shooter, judging accuracy, safety and protocol. Three rifle shots fired down range and the shooters tossed their weapons to the side, tucking and rolling one roll with their hand on their pistol all while watchful eyes looked on. Your boss didn't roll, but Paul's did and the snickering started from Special Branch. It didn't deter your focus as you watched your boss, Captain Rogers, finish the round. Three shots fired at metal targets, each one going down in accuracy, then a clip reload and three more shots fired at a close range target before the commanding judge asked both men to put their weapons on safe and holster them. He approached each target for accuracy and declared Paul's boss, Captain Wilson, the winner of the round. That brought the two teams to a tie. 

The Detectives cheered and razzed SWAT but both captains settled their groups down. The field judge confirmed the tie in the competition and groans sounded from both teams. 

"I'll tell you what, I'll toss in an extra two hundred bucks to pit Y/L/N against your pick," Rogers held two one hundred dollar bills up, handing them over to the field judge for safe keeping. 

"Alright, I see your two and raise two," Captain Wilson held out his bills, "for Diskant to take that challenge."

"Oooooooh", both teams razzed the real life couple. 

You couldn’t help the smirk on your face as one of Paul’s colleagues piped up that this could back fire spectacularly as would Paul really want to risk pissing off the woman who controlled his sex life.

“That’s exactly why he wants to win,” you jibed back, causing him to roll his eyes and scoff, “because his sex life is on the line if he doesn’t.”

More laughter rang out across the area as Paul merely shrugged, a smile flickering across his face as you heard Rogers speak loudly to Wilson from behind you.

“Between us, two hundred on my girl to blow your man outta the water."

Paul leaned down, to whisper into your ear, a smirk plying on his lips, "something's gonna get blown."

"What was that?" You coyly played. 

“Sure you wanna do this?” He asked, turning to look at you, his brow arched. “I mean you could just forfeit now and save yourself the embarrassment.”

You held his gaze for a moment before you made a show of dragging your eyes down his body, your gaze lingering on his crotch as if you were contemplating his offer, before you raised your head, your tongue poking out from between your lips a little.

“Did you forget to zip up?" You asked. Paul gave a start, his head jerking down to look at his ‘piece’ so to speak, and at that moment the whistle was blown to start.

The first shots were fired, Paul's just seconds behind yours. Tucking behind the mailboxes for your next shot, you nailed your target and moved forward to fire your final rifle round, using a metal barrel as your cover. You laid your riffle to rest, took a few steps, tucked your chin and rolled, planting your feet and rising up to draw your personal firearm. Poised for your next quick shot behind a mock window frame, you fired at the target and moved on, Paul's form in your peripheral, matching you shot for shot. Coming around the frame you fired a walking shot at your next target and then took your place at the final marker, firing away before the expected reload and emptying your clip into the standing paper target with his hostage. 

"Safety on... Holsters." The range judge called after he blew his whistle. You and Paul followed his commands and waited as he examined your individual targets. It was close, you knew it. Paul was an excellent shot. 

You watched as the judge looked over Paul's target first, poking his finger through two holes in the face before moving on to yours. You nailed your target, all three shots hitting the suspect. One dead shot to the center of his head, the other in the chest and the last in the torso. 

"Here's your winner," the judge declared, pointing at your target. 

Cheers began to ring out and you heard Paul groan loudly, turning to you. "You cheated.”

"I guess the favor's on you," You quipped as behind him you saw Captain Rogers holding his hand out, ready to receive the cash prize from Wilson.  

“You still cheated.”

“I did no such thing!” You scoffed.

“You distracted me.” He folded his arms across his chest, a sullen pout on his handsome face.

“Well, you should know better than to take your eye off the target, Disco,” you smirked and he narrowed his eyes playfully. “On second thought, I think I will let Rodriguez take me home. Burgers and beer on you. Don't forget the extra pickles."

He smirked, his lips brushing yours as he spoke, "come on, ride back with me, I'll make it worth your while."

"Erm, unless I'm mistaken you just lost so..." You popped a shoulder, your eyes not leaving his as you began walking backwards away from him. "I'm in charge."

“I want a divorce.” He shot back and you laughed, shaking your head.

“We’re not married yet, hot shot.” You winked.

“Details.” He waved his hand and you snorted, before you turned and jogged to catch up with your colleagues.

*****

As per your instructions, Paul didn’t forget the extra pickles and later that evening the pair of you were sat on the sofa in your comfy clothes, food and beer in hand as you lounged back watching a film on the Television. You stole a glance at your fiancé for a moment, his sharp profile illuminated in the soft light of the lamp to his right. He really was incredibly handsome, and you often wondered daily how the hell you’d gotten so lucky, as he could have had his pick of women, they tended to fall at his feet wherever you went. But he’d chosen you. Not only that, he’d pursued you. It had taken him a good few weeks after you’d both met on a case when he was in Uniform to finally accept his offer of a date. The dates had continued, and six months later you’d moved in together, and a year or so after that, he’d gotten down on one knee in the middle of your apartment and asked you to be his wife.

Which, reminded you of something you’d heard before.

With a smirk you turned your attention back to the film, took another bite of your burger before you spoke, your tone light and airy.

"So... strippers huh?"

Paul hastily swallowed his food and turned to look at you. "What?"

"Nothing, just typical."

"No, what?" He chuckled.

"I just heard one of the guys before commenting about how the wedding is getting closer so the stag do needs planning. The words Vegas and strippers were mentioned. Several times"

"Fucking Adler, man," he shook his head, dropping his empty burger container into the paper bag on the table in front of you.

“So you are going to Vegas, then?” You shoved another fry in your mouth to stop the smirk from spreading at the teasing.

"Uh, yeah," his reply was nonchalant, but he rubbed at his neck in that way he always did when he was a little nervous or uncomfortable. His big tell.

"Right. And there will be strippers?”

“Yes, there PROBABLY will be strippers." He side eyed you a little as he reached for his beer, the faint flush of red visible on the back of his neck as you took the final bite of your food.

“How probably?”

"There MAYBE be a night at the club." He leaned back, bottle in hand.

"Dicks." You gave a dramatic sigh, dropping your now empty food container into the bag with his. You made a show of scrunching down the top of the bag, dropping it to the floor by the side of the sofa, ready to be taken to the trash, before you leaned back, shaking your head.

"What?" he turned to you, beer paused halfway to his mouth.

"Oh, no, I was just saying, at my hen do there will be dicks. Lots of dicks."

“What the fuck?” He spluttered and you shrugged, not looking at him, feigning concentration on the television.

“I can't have strippers too? Tut, tut Disco, that's very old fashioned."

There was a pause, and you waited for his reaction, knowing it could go one of two ways. Out and out petulant protesting, or some sort of childish, half witty come back.

"You know, my dick is by far the most important." He chose the latter.

"You mean you are the most important dick?"

“Yeah.” He conceded. “Hey, least I’m important in some way.”

At that you laughed and moved a little closer to him. He shifted, allowing you to snuggle under his arm, pressing a kiss to your head.

“You know what else is important?” You asked, your hand gently tracing shapes on his white tee.

“What?”

“That you don’t forget that you owe me a favor, Detective Diskant." “That I do.” He agreed, and you felt him nod.

“So, there’s a pile of ironing that needs doing and the bed sheets need changing tomorrow. Can you manage?”

At that he let out a loud guffaw, his chest rumbling against your cheek. "Seriously, Baby?" He glanced down at you as you tipped your head up to look at him. "Absolutely," you winked

“I am at your complete mercy to satisfy you in any way you want... and you ask me to do chores?” He rolled his eyes. “You’re losing your sense of adventure, Sweetheart.” "Oh I have a sense of adventure, but a bet is a bet and we've pulled three doubles between the two of us so shits gotta get done, and you lost, therefore, you... are... my... bitch.” Your words were punctuated by soft jabs to his chest with your index finger and Paul groaned, throwing his head back against the sofa as he scrunched his eyes closed.

“Fuck my life.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?” You looked at him and he opened his eyes. “Fuck my wife?”

“We’re not married yet.” He smirked, arching an eyebrow at you as he played back your words from earlier.

“Details,” you played along and he laughed as you shifted a little more so your face was level with his. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

With a cheeky grin he leaned over, pressing his lips to yours, his hand sliding to the back of your neck as the kiss grew deeper, his tongue slowly sliding against yours. You let out a soft moan, shifting a little, your hand cupping his face and then he pulled back. You pouted at the loss of contact and opened your eyes to shoot him a glare, to find him smirking a little.

"Double or nothing, I bet I can make you cum in less than two minutes.”

“Two minutes?” You arched a brow, biting your lip a little as you squirmed at the frankly filthy look in his eyes. “Now?”

“Yup.”

“Bring it on.” You threw down the gauntlet. “But that doesn’t include the time it takes me to get you naked.” He grinned, shifting a little so he was side on, facing you.

“Fine.” You rolled your eyes. “Or the foreplay.”

“Jesus Christ, Paul, just get on with it. You said two minutes. Clock starts the second you start, your challenge not mine. He grabbed your beer bottle and placed it along with his on the table with a bang. “You saying you don’t want me to love on you a little bit before I bang you into next week?” His voice was low as he hovered over you a little, his face inches from yours. "I'm saying I'm fucking desperate, that's what I'm saying."

"Then I won't need two minutes.” He grinned, pressing further into you, causing you to lay back on the sofa.

“God, you’re so full of it.” You narrowed your eyes.

“You’re gonna be full of it soon.” He smirked, his lips pressing to yours. "Stop... Talking... And... Do... It," you demanded between his dizzying, little pecks. His lips curled into a smile against yours as his hands gently trailed up the outside of your smooth thighs, thumbs grazing under the hem of your cut offs. The assault from his lips already soaking you.

It wouldn't take much, you both were fully aware of it. Nearly a week apart or just missing each other had you two desperately seeking release. The question was, who would cave first. He said two minutes and you knew he could hold off until you were good and worked over. His fingers slipped between your denim shorts and he gave a low groan as he felt your damp panties. His kiss grew hungrier and he was quickly on your flies, your shorts were down your leg in a matter of seconds, tossed over the back of the sofa, panties with them. 

He moved to a kneel, one hand gently hooking your right leg up to rest against the back of the couch, knocking the other to the side, your foot falling automatically to the floor, toes pressing onto the soft carpet, leg bent at the knee. You don't even register how fast he moved downwards, and part of you wondered if he lost on purpose. A flat long swipe tasted at your folds.

"Jesus," it felt glorious and your back arched off the sofa in delight. There was a wee bit of scruff causing a tease of friction against your inner thighs and although you weren't timing him, you knew it couldn't have been more than sixty seconds when his tongue dipped into your hole causing you to cry out. 

"Fuck, Paul..."

He gave a little chuckle, mouth vibrating against your nub which he grazed with his teeth. You bit your lip as your insides began to tremble, you were so desperately trying to hold off just to get that last win over him, but it was useless. That rumble had you in the throes of it and you were gone, your legs shaking as you came, your walls clamping around nothing as you gasped, your body shuddering with pleasure.

The smirk and glisten that was evident on his lips as he sat up and caged you in, had you clawing at his shorts. "I win."

"Yeah, okay, you smug little shit,” your voice was breathy as you recovered from your high, your hands pulling at the drawstring in the middle of his abs. “Dare I ask how you want me?”

His baby blues, already dark with desire, flashed and he pressed his lips to yours, his mouth dominating and you could taste yourself on him. You groaned as his hands slid up, cupping your face and he pulled back.

“Hands on the floor, feet on the coffee table, knees bent.”

You blinked, “what?”

“Hands on the floor, feet on the coffee table, knees bent.” He repeated.

Okay, so this was new…

With a final, suspicious look at him as he moved back, you stood, jumping and emitting a little squeak as he slapped your ass as you went. Taking a deep breath you turned, placed your hands on the floor and rested the tops of your feet on the coffee table, your knees bent.

“So you can do as you’re told.” Paul smirked, standing up off the sofa.

“When I want to.” You peeked up at him as best you could to see him sliding his shorts down his legs, stepping out of them before he moved round and threw his leg over your shins. His hands slid up the outside of your thighs, coming to rest on your waist as he pulled you back a little, his erection pressing into your behind as he ground against you, giving a little hiss.

“Fuck, baby you look so good from back here.” He moaned, bending over slightly to press a kiss to your spin and you shivered, your arms wobbling a little and you began to worry just how much of this you could take.

“Paul, seriously, just…”

“Patience.” He cut you off as he gave your ass a soft slap making you emit a noise that was half way between a squeal and a laugh as he positioned himself behind you, and you immediately missed the warmth of his chest where it had been pressed to your back moments ago.

You felt the tip of his dick as it poked at your entrance, and he had no problem slipping inside your already soaked folds. But the angle and the pressure of your body closed off as he slipped inside you set your nerves on fire. You both moaned out together as he slid home, his balls to your clit.

You felt how thick he was against your walls. A little twitch and flutter from his shaft as you both remained still, you silently begging and waiting for him to move. His fingertips gently dug into your hips as he slowly pulled back and moved forward again.

"Fuck, baby, so fucking tight, like this," Paul ground out as he pumped slowly in and out of you. He was taking his time, slow thrusts and long pulls back. In truth, it was agony, but a beautiful torture. And a torture that he continued again, and again, and again. Over and over, in no rush whatsoever, a sharp contrast to where he’d brought you off before on the couch as fast as he could.

Your arms were shaking from baring the position but you wanted more. And as the bubbles of pleasure slowly simmered through your core and deep into your belly, you moaned out your demand. "Harder."

"Oh, fuck," Paul quivered inside you but picked up his pace, his hips slamming into yours, your insides squeezing him tightly as his hands gripped at your hips, blunt nails biting against your skin. With every thrust forward you were jolted, your palms sliding on the rough surface of the rug underneath you, and you curled your fingertips into the deep, cream coloured shag in an attempt to prevent yourself from face planting straight onto the floor.

"Yeah, just like that," you panted, your elbows locking as you pushed yourself up slightly, "oh fuck, Paul!" You could tell by his breathing and how he felt inside you that he was ready to cum but he could always hold off until you had yours. "So close," you managed to pant out, letting him know you weren’t far.

He slowed his pace, bending his body down your spine again, and pressed his lips to the back of your neck, "just," he thrusted, "let", again, "go". 

His words flipped the switch inside your body and you felt yourself going, the blood already rushing to your head from the position you were in, and the pressure was pounding in your ears as you came, hard. "Oh my God!" You cried out as your walls clamped down around him, milking his hot seed to explode inside you. 

"That’s my girl, fuck!" He roared at the feel of you around him, and his hips grew sloppy as he came, grunting, pulling you back onto him as he let go of his thick payload. 

With your chests heaving, bodies stilled, his fingers still around your hips, his thumbs drew lazy circles on your back. You felt his blue gaze on you and you couldn't see it, but you knew he was smirking. 

“Paul.” You managed to swallow, “baby, my arms.”

“Oh, shit, yeah.” He moved gently to pull out of you, curling his arm around your waist in the nick of time as your elbows gave way and the pair of you tumbled rather ungracefully to the rug by the table in a tangle of limbs, your giggles ringing around the room, drowning out the sound of the television.

“You okay?” He asked gently, as you moved so you were lay on your back looking up at him as he lay on his side, propped on his left elbow. He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear with his right hand as you nodded, leaning up to kiss him deeply.

“I’m not even gonna ask where you saw or read about that.” You chuckled and he grinned, glancing around the room cheekily before he looked down at you.

“Boys talk, sweetheart.” He shrugged. “But admit it, that was better than making me fold sheets.”

You chuckled as he pressed his lips to yours again, your fingers gently twisting his silver chain between them as you looked at him and arched your eyebrow. “If I admit it will you do it again? Only not tonight, don’t think my arms could take another round.”

Paul let out a laugh which rumbled in his chest and he pressed his lips to yours again. “Maybe we can make a game out of it, see how many other surfaces I can use to I prop your feet on and fuck you from behind.”

You scoffed, slapping at his arm as he grinned down at you cheekily, and you bit your lip.

“I can run with that.” Your hands moved so they slipped round his back, gently tracing shapes over the muscles, making them twitch a little and he sighed as your nails reached that spot on his neck that always turned him to putty in your hands.

“Stop, you know what that does to me.” He looked down at you.

“I do.” You agreed, continuing nonetheless.

“Seriously, you want more?”

“Well, like you said.” Your fingers curled round the nape of his neck, pulling his face down so it was inches from yours. “It’s been a while since we got time together, best make the most of it.”

“Oooh, you’re a bad, bad woman future Mrs Disco…” he smirked, kissing you deeply. “And I’m so down for that.”

****

It was late in the evening, the two of you having carried your sex-capades from the lounge to the bedroom, both of you spent and spooning in the aftermath of bliss when Paul's cell rang out. 

He grumbled and shifted slightly, turning to grab the offending item form the night stand before he answered, "Diskant."

You strained your ears to listen to who was on the other end but it wasn't audible.

"Yeah, okay, got it. I'll call you back," he replied and hung up. Then he quickly made an outgoing call. "Hey, so I just talked to Scribble. Freemont and Coates, or whoever they are, want to meet us." There was a brief pause, "tonight." Another pause and he closed his phone. 

He sighed, turning to you, "I got to go."

"Okay," you sat up, an uneasiness filling your veins. 

"I'll be back," he slipped out of bed, dressing quickly in black jeans, a black button down and hat. He clipped his badge from the nightstand to his belt after slipping into his uniform boots. Then leaned over and gave you a long, deep kiss. "I love you."

"I love you. Come home to me," you kissed him and pulled back, your fingers pressing the medallion of safe keeping against his chest. Paul touched his forehead to yours before he pressed his lips to your own in a soft kiss and headed out. You heard the door click as he left your apartment, and you gave a sigh, settling down into the bed, pulling his pillow to your naked chest as you closed your eyes. Whilst you knew that this was the job, hell, you’d done it yourself for long enough, it still never made it easier and for some inexplicable reason, tonight it made you even more twitchy than normal. But, that was more than likely down to the fact you’d managed to enjoy some quality time together tonight, and it had been so good.

Before long you drifted off to sleep, and you had no idea what time it was when the cordless rang, shrilling through the apartment, raising you from your slumber, but as you blinked yourself awake, it was still pitch black outside. 

"Hello," you croaked. 

"Y/N," you recognized the voice immediately, given your own happenings with IA. 

"Captain Biggs," you replied, suddenly fully awake as you sat up in bed, the covers clutched to your chest.

"It's Paul,” his voice was low and serious and instantly you felt a cold, icy dread floor your system from your head to your toes as he passed, taking a breath, “a unit is on its way for you."

***** Part 2