#(and including gala now. and gala did not realize the Boss part of his powers lmao)

[the-rat-house]

His muse is having a rough time after that epilogue.

Music I got on repeat while doodling cause it really adds to the vibe.

[justthehiddleswrites]

Follow My Lead | Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Vivian Swann) | Chapter 5 | I bet you look so pretty when you beg.

A/N: This will update every Thursday.  There are 13 chapters.  There are all sorts of kinds of D/s relationships.  This is the one I choose to write this time.  

MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Vivian Swann)

Summary: Tom and Vivian have both been unlucky in love, searching for something outside of the bounds of a typical relationship.  When the two of them connect via a dating app, Tom is introduced to the idea of being submissive to Vivian.  Which is the one thing he never knew he needed.  Under the firm hand of Vivian, Tom learns what it means to submit and Vivian learns what it means to be in a loving dominant relationship.  But not everyone seems to understand what they have and the best intentions can destroy the strongest relationship.

This Chapter:  Sophie and Vivian bond over shopping and Tom and Vivian finally have sex.  But not before a little denial.  

Warnings for story: Dominant/submissive relationship (sub!Tom), lots of smut including but not limited to: vaginal sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), edging, denial, teasing, use of restraints, spanking, multiple orgasm, anal play, use of toys.

Tag Lists Are Open!  Let me know if you want to be added.  Thank you for reading!

-

Vivian tossed on a pair of jeans and a blouse for lunch at Tom’s and then shopping with Sophie. She read and reread Tom’s essay that night. She may have even teared up a bit. Not that she would admit that to Tom just yet. Vivian eschewed heels that day, opting for a driving mocassin.

She texted Tom when she was already halfway to his house, knowing he was already pacing the length of his living room. His nervous energy reminded her of an overexcited puppy. So sweet and endearing. And that smile, that damn smile, melted Vivian’s heart in a way she never felt before.

“Come in.” Tom opened the door wide with a smile.

Tom wore a pair of beat up shorts, t-shirt and trainers. Vivian could see his abs through the thin fabric. She wanted nothing more than to rip off that shirt and lick them. But there was much to discuss. She grabbed the back of his head and kissed him, tongues exploring. They parted.

“God, I love kissing you, sunshine.” she commented, licking her lips.

“I love kissing you, too, ma’am.” Tom whispered back. He hoped for more, but Vivian stepped into the kitchen and sat down, gesturing for Tom to sit next to her. He sat, hands folded in front of him.

“So…” he started.

Vivian slid a folded piece of paper over towards Tom. He unfolded it. It was his essay. Vivian had underlined and circled portions of his writing.

“My essay?”

“Did you mean it?”

“Every word, ma’am.” Tom responded. He stared at her.

“You realize what you are wanting? You realize what it would mean?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Tom exhaled. “I have thought about it long before I even met you. To be honest, I think I have subconsciously been seeking this out in my relationships. Seeking out strong and independent women. And it ended in disaster. I think they assumed I would take control, ‘be the man’, make the decisions. I make decisions all day at my job. I play the role of the one in control. But what I want, what I need is surrender. To be strong by giving my control away. To trust someone with my heart and my life.”

“On a daily basis? To give total control to me? It’s okay if you don’t, we can play, keep things casual. It’s not unusual for submissive men to think they want this and then get intimidated or scared.”

“I won’t know if I don’t try. But what I can say is that I have never felt as happy and comfortable than I am with you.” Tom smirked. “Tied up to your bed in my underwear. Give me the chance.”

Vivian chewed on her lip. Tom never looked more like a puppy than he did in that moment. His short golden hair rumpled as though he had run his hands through it waiting for her. His blue eyes wide, hopeful, and on the precipice of spilling tears.

“You know you won’t always get what you want?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“That I will say no to you?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And you need to do as I say?”

“Of course, ma’am.”

Vivian smiled and pulled Tom over to her lap, smoothing his hair. He nuzzled into her neck, inhaling the scent of woodsy perfume. “Then we will do this, sunshine. If at any point you want to stop, tell me.”

“Yes, ma’am.” he muttered into her neck, his breath hot on the skin.

She lifted his head and kissed him tenderly. “Good boy.” She cupped his face. “My beautiful good boy.”

Tom glowed.

They stood and Vivian pulled out an envelope and handed it to Tom. It contained a list of various kinks and sexual acts with boxes for Tom to mark “yes”, “soft no” and “hard no.” “Fill this out and give it back to me today after I return from shopping.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“We will continue with the 9 p.m. phone call. I am busy this week so I won’t be able to meet until the weekend.”

Tom nodded, disappointed but understanding. He had a few meetings himself. “Yes, ma’am.” He fidgeted in his seat.

“The next time we get together, we will have sex.” She reached out to stroke Tom’s arm. He shivered. “Until then, no more masturbating.”

“Yes… what?” Tom’s brow furrowed.

She smirked. “No jerking off, no orgasms, no touching yourself, sunshine.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He shuffled his feet. That was going to be a difficult task to accomplish.

“And you are to take a photo of your cock, either in your underwear or pajamas in the morning, and send it to me.”

Tom’s mouth dropped open. His cheeks reddened. He stared at the floor. “Yes… yes ma’am.” he stuttered.

Vivian pulled him into a sweet kiss, her hand petting the back of his hand. “Don’t be embarrassed, sunshine. These photos will never see the light of day and I will delete them after I view them.”

He exhaled sharply. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Now let’s eat.”

Tom rushed to the kitchen and grabbed the salad and sandwiches he made earlier from the fridge. He set them down on the table and then returned with a glass of water for both of them. Tom sat and waited for Vivian to eat before taking a bite.

“Did you make the sandwich?” She asked.

Tom finished chewing before answering. “Yes, ma’am.”

“It’s delicious. Perfect lunch for a warm day. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Can I ask a question?”

“Of course.” Vivian smiled.

Tom chewed on his lip. “Do you think I am ‘less of a man’ for wanting this?”

“Quite the contrary, sunshine. I find it strong, not to mention sexy that you are willing to give power to me. Your masculinity is not contingent on being in charge, on being the boss of the relationship. It is about mutual trust and respect.” Tom nodded but said nothing. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You have been in several high profile relationships or rumoured relationships. And you have commented more than once that they ended in disaster. What happened?”

“That’s not just a question, but the question. I guess what happened was the same thing that happened in all failed relationships. We wanted different things.”

“What did they want?”

“They wanted the guy on the screen. The Jonathan Pine, the Loki. The man who shoves you against a wall and fucks you senseless. The man who pushes her to her knees and has her suck my cock. The one who calls the shots. The alpha male. It’s exhausting. Eventually there would be friction and then argument. I could never articulate properly what I wanted. And then they left. Sometimes loudly, sometimes with an apology. But they left.” Tom sniffled.

She caressed his cheek. “They didn’t deserve you, sunshine.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” He sniffed again and then cleared the plate. He checked the time. “I am due at Benedict’s.”

“Drive me, please. I am meeting Sophie there.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Tom gathered his keys, wallet and phone and led Vivian to his car. He opened her door before getting in himself. She scratched the nape of his neck. “Have I told you what a perfect gentleman you are?”

“No, ma’am.”

“You are. So polite and kind and generous. I can’t wait to make you beg for me to let you come.”

Tom jerked the car forward. “Yes, ma’am.”

She twirled his hair between her fingers, she noticed Tom’s shorts tenting. Vivian waited for the stoplight before continuing. “I bet you look so pretty when you beg. My pretty little sunshine.”

Beads of sweat popped out on Tom’s temples. “Yes. ma’am.” He didn’t know how else to respond. All the blood was rushing somewhere other than his brain.

“I guess we will see.” she mused before squeezing the back of his neck and then fiddling with the radio.

It took the rest of the drive for Tom to get his body back under control. He wiped the sweat from his brow as he rounded around the car to open Vivian’s door. Vivian knocked on the door, her hand on the small of Tom’s back. Sophie answered.

“You two came together!” She pulled Vivian into a hug. “And you are at a reasonable height!”

Vivian laughed. “I wore my shopping shoes.” She wiggled her feet.

“Smart woman.” Benedict poked his head around Sophie. She turned and kissed his cheek and rubbed his shoulder. “And the two of you are actually going to tear down that shed and not sit around and drink beer?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Benedict teased. She rubbed his shoulder. Tom stiffened at Ben’s words, but Vivian rubbed his neck and he relaxed.

“Have a good time, darling.” She kissed Tom’s cheek. “Sophie, shall we?”

The two women linked arms and stepped out. Tom’s eyes lingered on Vivian as she and Sophie laughed.

“Should I be worried, mate?” He asked Benedict, who handed him a hammer.

“Two strong independent women, one of whom knows several secrets about both of us? Yes, you should.”

Tom paled.

-

“You should buy it.” Vivian urged Sophie, who was holding up a gorgeous dress.

“But where would I wear it?”

“Red carpet. A gala. Around the house. Who cares?”

“Around the house?”

Vivian smirked. “Are you saying that your husband wouldn’t want to see you in that dress?”

Sophie eyed the short hemline and low neckline. “Good point, but…”

“If you don’t buy it, I will.” Vivian grabbed for the dress, but Sophie snatched it back.

“Find your own dress!” she giggled.

“Not a problem.” Vivian held up her other arm, ladened with clothes.

Vivian laughed more in the few hours with Sophie than she had in a long time. She had few female friends outside of Ashley, who was busy in starting up her own small boutique firm. Sophie was a delight, sharing stories about Tom and Benedict.

“Did he really streak into the pool?” Vivian asked.

Sophie nodded her head. “Both of them. Although I am certain copious amounts of alcohol bolstered their boldness. You have a bit of an exhibitionist on your hands.”

Vivian blushed. “I can’t say I blame him. Which reminds me…”

She wandered over to the men’s section of the store. Vivian selected a couple of t-shirts for Tom, in shades of blue and maroon. The cotton brushed and soft against her skin and the vee of the neckline cut deep. She also picked up a few pairs of black boxer briefs with bright contrasting elastic bands on the inside. They weren’t Calvin Klein, but Vivian was certain Tom would be delicious in them.

“Already buying Tom’s clothes? The two of you are progressing quickly.”

Vivian smiled, not wanting to betray Tom’s privacy, not even to Sophie. “He mentioned needing some new things. I thought I would help him out.” She shrugged. Not a complete lie. After all, she had made Tom throw out some portion of his underwear.

“Those are cute. I’m grabbing a pair for Ben.” Sophie snagged the underwear.

After they gave the boys enough time to tear down the shed, accounting for the time they would take talking and standing about. They found the two of them sitting on the couch, looking quite pleased with themselves, drinking a beer.

Vivian settled onto Tom’s lap while Sophie sat on the arm next to Ben. She wiggled her ass against Tom’s crotch and he shifted underneath her, pulling her tight against him, nuzzling into her neck. She grabbed the beer from his hand.

“No alcohol for you.” She took a sip. “You are driving.”

“Yes, darling.”

Sophie sighed and smacked Ben’s arm. “Why can’t you be romantic like that?”

“Because I’m married.” Benedict joked.

Sophie threw daggers with her eyes. Benedict grabbed her by the waist and pulled her down. “Ah!!” she screamed as Tom and Vivian giggled.

“How is this for romantic?” Benedict kissed her dramatically.

Sophie righted herself. “Sorry you two had to see that.” She playfully elbowed Benedict. “Sometimes he needs to know who’s the boss.”

“No apologies.” Vivian continued to rub Tom’s neck. “Sometimes you just need to establish your dominance.”

“You’re not going to back me up, mate?” Ben yelled, looking to Tom for support

.

“It’s okay, sunshine.” Vivian whispered so only Tom could hear, before kissing behind his ear.

“Of course, Ben.” Tom straightened up. “I think… all relationships should be based on mutual respect and trust.” His face breaking out into a smug grin.

“Good answer.” Vivian praised, smoothing down his hair.

“I agree.” Sophie piped in.

“Boo.” Benedict pouted with a smile.

“Would you two like to stay for dinner?” Sophie offered.

Tom looked to Vivian to answer. “I have a big week at work, unfortunately, so I must be headed home.” she stated. “Another time, though?”

Sophie and Ben nodded. Vivian stood and Tom tugged at his shorts to hide any potential arousal. “I’ll drive you home, darling.”

“Thank you.”

Vivian gathered up her bags, and they said goodbyes, Sophie promising to text Vivian later in the week. Tom drove away.

“That went well.” Vivian hummed. Tom didn’t say anything. “You did so well.”

The praise softened his mood. “Thank you. I wasn’t sure how to…”

“You did beautifully, my sunshine.” She ruffled his hair. “I will never embarrass you in front of others. Unless you ask me to.” Vivian wiggled her eyebrows.

“Thank you.” He smiled at her.

Tom walked Vivian all the way to her front door. She pulled him in for a kiss, dropping her bags on the floor to grab his ass, pinching lightly. Tom jumped.

“You do have a beautiful ass.” she purred, pulling away and grabbing one of the bags. “Here. For you.” She placed it into Tom’s hands.

“You bought me something?” His eyes wide with surprise. He pulled out some shirts and underwear. “You bought me underwear?!”

She ran her hand up his thigh before swatting his ass. “I expect to see those in my photo tomorrow morning, sunshine.” She kissed his cheek. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

-

Tom woke up in the morning on Monday, painfully hard. He touched the tip of his cock through his underwear, wishing he could jerk off. Tom grabbed his phone and snapped a photo so he could hop into a cold shower. Once he stepped out of the shower, he found Vivian’s text.

Oh my, sunshine. That looks painful. I can’t wait to feel you inside me.

Tom groaned and dug his nails into his thigh. It was going to be a long week.

-

Vivian enjoyed herself a bit too much that week, teasing Tom. But Thursday, Tom’s cock was leaking cum, soaking through his underwear. Vivian would text Tom each time praising him for sending the photo and then letting him know how much she was looking forward to fucking him. And indeed she was. So much so that she moved it up from Saturday to Friday.

She texted him early that morning even before he woke and sent his daily picture.

6 p.m. my place. Wear one of your new shirts and boxer briefs. Bring condoms and a change of clothes. You’re spending the night.

Tom snapped his photo and sent it before seeing Vivian’s text. He fisted the sheets as he read. He rolled onto his stomach, biting his pillow. The pressure of the mattress was comforting on his erection. He rolled his hips and felt some relief. He repeated the action three more times before stopping, not trusting himself to not cum.

The day was blurry and fuzzy on the edges for Tom. He could not concentrate on much more than the TV running in the background. While Vivian plowed through her to-do list at work, reaching a settlement for one of the firm’s biggest clients. She gave herself the rest of the afternoon off. Vivian hurried home to prepare.

She chilled a bottle of white wine in the fridge and pulled two glasses onto the counter. She grabbed a few bottles of water and some chocolate bars and granola bars to place on the nightstand before pulling out just the wrist cuffs. The bed linens were crisp white, and the straps prepared. She slipped into a simple black bra and panties before slipping on a dress, no shoes. Fifteen minutes before six and five minutes before Vivian expected Tom, she poured two glasses of wine, sipping from one. As predicted, five minutes later, there was a knock on the door.

“Sunshine.” she sighed as she opened the door.

Tom’s pupils were already large, and he fidgeted. He carried a small leather bag containing his clothes.

She pulled him into a deep kiss. Tom moaned against her mouth as she tugged on his hair.

“Put your bag in the bedroom. Condoms on the nightstand, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He hustled off to the bedroom while she grabbed the wrist cuffs with one finger.

Tom returned and his eyes went straight to the cuffs. He held out his wrists without having to be asked. “Good boy, sunshine.” She buckled them on. “Are they too tight?”

Tom twisted his wrists to test them out. “No, ma’am.”

She kissed his lips lightly and pressed her body against his, his cock already hard. “Some ground rules. No cumming until I say so. No touching my breasts or cunt until I tell you. If you need to stop, use your safe word.”

Tom nodded, licking his lips. “Yes, ma’am.”

She pulled him into the bedroom. “Strip.” Tom frantically pulled off his shirt and pants, folding them neatly. Vivian gestured to a chair, and he placed them there. “Underwear too, sunshine.”

Tom pulled them off and placed them on the chair with the rest of his clothes.

“Hands behind your head. Stand tall, my beautiful sunshine boy.” Tom complied, pulling himself to his full height, chest puffed out.

His cock bobbed as he rocked on his heels. Vivian stood behind him and ran her hands from his shoulders down his back to cup his ass and gave one cheek a playful slap. As she walked her way around him, she grabbed the back of his head and jerked him into a kiss. Tom’s hands waved in the air, not knowing what to do.

“Touch my breasts.”

Tom squeezed, moaning into Vivian’s mouth. “Yes, ma’am.”

She bit down on his lower lip before kissing his neck, sucking hard, leaving a mark.

“Kneel, my sunshine.” Tom lowered to the floor. His head pressed against her legs. She petted the top of his head. “Take off my panties, please.”

Tom’s hands slipped under her dress, finding the waist, and pulled them down Vivian’s legs. She stepped out of them and walked to the end of the bed, sitting down, legs splayed wide. She hooked her finger towards Tom.

“Come here.” He started to stand. “On your knees.”

Tom groaned and walked over on his knees, settling between her legs. His hands hung at his side. Vivian balanced her heels on the frame. “I like how you look between my legs. Use your mouth. Taste me. Make me come.”

“Yes, ma’am.” His excitement was palpable. He reached for her legs. She stopped him with her foot on his forehead.

“No hands.” She pushed her legs wider. Tom hummed as devoured Vivian’s thighs, leaving sloppy open mouth kisses as he traveled up. His nose nudged along her folds. She moaned.

“That’s it, sunshine.” He moved his lips down to her other thigh. Vivian whimpered. “Tease.”

“It will be worth it, ma’am.”

“It better be.”

Tom peeked up and smiled. He licked with the flat of his tongue before swirling it around her clit. Vivian grabbed the back of his head and yanked him forward. “Yes!” she hissed.

Tom continued to suck and lick at her, his cock dripping and hard against his thigh. Vivian’s hand tight like a vise in his hair, yanking his head where she wanted. Tom’s tongue darted inside her entrance, collecting every drop of her arousal, savoring it. When Vivian came, she screamed out, her head falling back, and she pulled hard on Tom’s hair. A shot of pain ran through his scalp. He moaned into her, continuing to lick and slurp. As she came down, Vivian pulled Tom away. His eyes glassy, pupils lust blown. His lips swollen and red, her arousal glistening on him.

“It was worth it, sunshine.”

“yes, ma’am.” Tom remained on his knees, his voice low.

“On the bed on your back, arms out.” She stood and allowed him to crawl into the bed, unable to resist smacking his ass.

“Ow.” he complained as he lied down. Vivian quickly hooked him into the restraints.

“Nice and tight, sunshine? I don’t want you running away.” she play pouted. Tom made a show of flexing and tugging until Vivian ran her nail along his shaft and he let loose a ragged gasp, his hips bucking into her touch. Vivian clicked her tongue. “If you can’t be a good boy, I’ll restrain your legs.”

Tom lowered his legs. “I’ll be good, ma’am. I promise.” he pleaded. “Please, I’ll be good.”

Vivian grabbed the box of condoms and pulled one out. She unwrapped it and rolled it down Tom’s cock. He fought against the restraints at her touch. She climbed back on the bed and Tom’s posture relaxed. Vivian straddled his hips, his cock twitched underneath her. She rocked against the tip, Tom jerked against the restraints and pressed his feet into the mattress. She leaned forward to press her breasts against him. Her hazel eyes staring into Tom’s soul. He whimpered and whined.

“I am going to ride you, sunshine. You are going to tell me when you get close to cumming. You are not to cum without my permission.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Tom nodded. “Please ride me, please.”

She lightly slapped his cheek, Tom groaned. “That’s a good boy.”

Vivian lowered herself onto his cock. He was larger than her previous partners, stretching her walls. She moaned and hissed. Tom’s chest heaved underneath her hand, breaths short and shallow as he struggled to control his release.

“Oh, sunshine. Your cock may be my new favorite part of you.” She rocked up and down on him.

“Please, please. Please.” Tom begged. Her walls tight around him. “I need to—”

“It’s not about you.” Vivian stopped. Tom growled. “It’s about me. And I want to ride you until I come on your cock and then, if you are a good boy, I might let you come.”

“Yes, ma’am. Please ma’am.” he breathed.

Vivian resumed twisting and rocking her hips. Tom’s cock hit all the right spots inside of her and soon she was ready to orgasm. Tom’s face was twisted in pain and exertion. He wanted to please and impress you so much.

“I’m close, sunshine. Are you close?”

“Yes… ma’am….” he gasped.

Vivian thrusted hard down on Tom’s cock and she rubbed her clit and came with a guttural moan. As her walls fluttered and warmth washed over her.

“Come for me, my boy. Come.”

Tom bucked his hips twice and yelled as he came. His vision turned black and then white as he came. Vivian squeezed around him. Tom collapsed underneath her, completely spent, the denial of the week having the desired effect of intensifying his orgasm. His face plastered with a smile, sweat glistening his skin. Tom’s eyes fluttered open and closed.

“Tom?” Vivian asked, soft and sweet. She rolled off of him and undid the restraints and then the cuffs, kissing his wrists. “Sunshine?”

“Hmmm…” Tom hummed. She rubbed his neck.

“Tom… are you okay?”

“Yes, ma’am….” His voice trailed off, dreamy. “How are you?”

“I’m fine. Sit up, sunshine.”

Tom sat up with a groan. Vivian handed him a water bottle and snack. “Here.”

Tom blinked and took a swig of water and a bit of chocolate. “Thank you, ma’am. That was incredible. I’ve never….”

She smoothed down his hair and kissed him soft. “You did beautifully, sunshine.”

His head snapped her. “Are you pleased, ma’am? Satisfied? I can… I can…”

“Shhh…” She kissed him again. “I am very pleased. No complaints. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Tom unrolled the condom and discarded it in the garbage can in the room. He grabbed his leather bag.

“You won’t need that. Put it down, please.”

Tom dropped the bag. “But I… ma’am?”

“Come with me.” Vivian walked to the bathroom. “Shower or bath?”

Tom’s eyes darted between the tub and the glass shower enclosure. “Shower, ma’am.”

She flicked on the shower, waiting for the water to heat up. “If you are cold, you can put on your robe.” Vivian gestured at a hook. Tom’s eyes widened at the obscenely short blue satin robe.

“That’s for me, ma’am? It’s awfully short.” Tom’s hands fidgeted in front of him.

“I know the perfect way to show off that perfect ass.” Vivian grinned as she playfully smacked his ass before pulling him into the shower and a deep passionate kiss.

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Californian Dream (Pt. 08 of 11)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Word count: 2.9 K

Summary: Being part of one of the richest families of California doesn't mean you're happy. Your life is boring, and you're surrounded by meaningless people and their meaningless talk. Even during Summer, with the break you have from college, there's nothing good going on. Nothing but the new pool guy, Billy, the most handsome man you ever saw. You were successfully avoiding him, not wanting to act like an idiot in front of the guy until Billy accepts to be your date for a fancy gala you're forced to attend. The night was going well, even better when he sneaked you out to go to the beach. But a gang of criminals breaks into the party, kidnapping the heirs to the wealthiest families, which includes you. So, for your safety, your parents want you to stay with Billy, living in his apartment until the criminals are caught. And that could take weeks, maybe even months.

Warnings: Light violence

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{Stranger Things Masterlist}

{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}

×

Decisions

A low knock on the door wakes you up. Your cheeks are stained by dry tears, and your head hurts. It takes a while for you to even process who's knocking, but you don't want to talk to him. “Go away.”

“(Y/N), I'm sorry, alright? I shouldn't have said those things, I didn't mean any of that.” He sounds defeated, tired, sad. It's hard to hear him through the door, but still, the last thing you want is to look at him right now.

“You made everything crystal clear, Billy.” You mumble, pulling a second blanket over your body. “Don't worry, I'll be leaving tomorrow.”

“(Y/N), please, I...” You hear him sigh, and your heart hurts for him. Hugging your pillow, you stare at the darkness. “These guys, they... They said some things and... It reminded me of my father.”

“Your father?” You ask because Billy never spoke of him. He did mention a stepsister, Maxine, and her mother Susan, but never the father. You knew he had a reason for it, but you never wanted to push him into telling you something he didn't feel comfortable with.

“Yes. He was a damn devil. He was abusive, he hit me, and what those idiots said to me today... It was the same things Neil once did and everything just came back and I...” He makes a pause, and you slowly sit up, looking at the door, the piece of wood separating you from Billy. “I shouldn't have said those things to you, I'm sorry. It won't happen again, I promise. And I understand if you want to leave... But I just need you to know that I didn't mean any of that. You're nothing like those people. You're kind and honest and noble... You're... You're amazing, (Y/N), truly.” After some seconds, you listen as he walks away.

Your heart sinks at what he said. At the pain in his voice. And as much as you're hurt by his outburst, he did had a reason. Memories can be tough, they have the power to drag you back to the very moment they were created, and now, thinking about it, you did see a hint of sadness in Billy's eyes earlier, you just couldn't recognize it. So this is why he fled. He wasn't just running from a small town, he was running from living in hell to the place he felt like home.

Taking a deep breath, you stand up, leaving the blanket behind despite the cold air that makes you shiver. Slowly, you move to the door, trying to open it as quietly as you can. As soon as you're out, the low noise of the TV and a bluish light hits you.

Billy is seated on the couch, elbows on his knees, and his eyes on the floor. It takes a few seconds until he notices your presence, raising his eyes.

“I'm sorry your father was a dick.” You whisper, standing there, eyes locked with Billy. “And whatever those guys said, it isn't true. I don't know what it was, but it isn't true.” Making your way to the couch and sitting beside him, you notice the bruise on the apple of his cheek. “What's that?”

“He punched me and I punched back.” As he speaks, you touch his cheek, delicately. “It got me a warning from the company. If it happens again, I'm fired.”

“It happens again, you give me the name and address and I'll beat them up for you.” Leaning closer, you ignore his chuckle, placing a soft kiss on his bruise, but your lips barely touch his skin since you don't want to hurt him more than he's already hurt. “I mean it.” Then you start kissing him. His cheek, his jaw, the corner of his lips. “Don't you ever believe anything they say.” When you realize what you're doing, you pull away, blushing and looking down. “Well, you should go to sleep now. The bed is yours.”

Nodding, he hesitates a little before standing up. But when he does, he doesn't move. “You know... It's a double bed. We'd both fit there.” Billy reaches out his hand, and you look at it for a while, considering his idea before taking it.

“Yeah, it does.” Standing up, you walk with him back to the bedroom.

It happens silently, as if it had happened many times before. When you lie down, facing away from him, you both move at the same time. You search for his hand, to pull it over your waist, as he moves to do so. “Is it ok?”

“Yes.” You mutter, eyes already closed as you slowly sink into a peaceful sleep.

•

When the morning comes, you only notice because Billy starts moving. Groaning a little, and still very cold, you turn around, snuggling closer to his chest. “Don't go.” You beg, knowing it's still on the week days, which means Billy has to work. “You're so warm.” Taking a deep breath, you hook your leg around his waist, as if it could keep him from getting up.

“I have to go to work, but I'd stay if I had a choice.” He giggles, running a hand through your leg. “Funny, you're...” You feel his hand on your neck as he mutters something you don't understand. “That's not good.”

“What?” You whine, a little upset and embarrassed, since you just realize how your leg was around him, so you move it off.

“You're burning up.” Billy gets up suddenly, fixing the blankets around you. “I'll go get something from the drugstore to lower your fever.”

You didn't notice the fever. Well, you've been feeling cold, but you thought it was the air-conditioning. “No. I don't want you to be late because of me.” Pushing yourself up, you sit straight. “I can get it.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Billy...” Jumping to your feet, you walk fast until you reach him by the door. “It's just a fever. There's no reason for you to worry.” Shyly, you take his hand. “Just do your stuff and I can get some medicine later.”

“No. You've been complaining about being cold for a few days, it's bad enough you'll have to be alone here, I'll–”

“I'll be fine. I can call Stacy. Remember she said she has the week off? I will ask if she can stay with me.” It's not a big deal, and you don't understand why Billy is so worried about it. “Really, I'm alright.”

He takes a deep breath, a hand cupping your face, his thumb softly caressing your skin. Yesterday's fight is long forgotten now, for both of you. “Alright. But I'll be at the Whaylands today. Anything happens you call there, and ask to talk to me. Say it's an emergency or something like that, ok?”

You don't know the Whayland's number, but you just nod. “I'll be fine, don't worry.” Smiling, you tiptoe a little but give up halfway, blushing and looking away.

“You can kiss me if you want.” He smirks, bending a little to capture your lips. It takes no time until you react, but when you remember you have a fever, you push him away. “What?” He sounds confused, eyebrows furrowed.

“I might have a cold or something. I don't want you getting sick so...” Shrugging your shoulders, you feel a little brave. “But when I'm better, I wouldn't mind kissing you.”

“That's good to know.” He smirks. “Now, call Stacy and ask her to stay with you. I'll take a shower and get ready to work.”

“Alright.”

Despite him saying you don't have to, you make him breakfast, and a sandwich he can eat on the road. Stacy comes a couple of hours later and you take the pills she brought you. You like Stacy, and you feel free to be yourself around her, the rules you once followed completely left behind. So you're laughing out loud all day, even taking a walk on the beach after lunch. You can't wait to tell her and the others the truth. Your real name at least. They still call you Lily, and as far as they know, you've been crashing on Billy's until you find a place for yourself. But you do want to tell the truth, and you hope they'll understand why you had to lie. But now, that's a distant thought. Jimmy shows up at the end of the afternoon after Stacy calls him. And, with you both annoying him to death, he starts making dinner, which only makes you and Stacy boss him around with giggles and jokes.

“No, listen up now.” He says after putting the chicken in the oven. “Enough with bugging me, you two. I wanna know something.” Raising an eyebrow, he gestures at you, dramatically slamming his hands on the table, making you roll your eyes. “You and Billy.” He says. “What's going on?”

Feeling your cheeks burning up, you clear your throat, looking at your hands. “Nothing.”

“I didn't take you for a liar," Stacy says, crossing her arms.

“I'm not...” Taking a deep breath, you run a hand through your hair. “I'm not lying. There's nothing between Billy and I. Just... We just kissed a few times but–”

“I knew it!” Stacy exclaims, cutting you off and startling you a little. “Since that day at the party when we met.”

“Really?” Despite being a little shy, you do want to know whatever she thinks she knows.

“Billy had a lot of... Flings. But he never stood up for any of them. He never truly cared. So when he beat up Chad like that... I knew something was off.” She exchanges a glance with Jimmy, smirking.

“And, c'mon, the way he looks at you is so cute.” Jimmy makes a funny voice and you giggle. “He's really into you. And Billy was never into anyone.”

“Of course he was.” You exclaim.

“No, no,” Jimmy speaks up, shaking his head lightly. “He gets a girl he finds attractive when he's bored, that's one thing. Being into someone is completely different.” As the plays with the dishcloth, he takes a seat across from you. “And I did find it weird when he suddenly stopped showing up with a different girl every day, and now I know why.”

“I don't know... I mean, we're good now, but... It's nothing official, so...” Shrugging your shoulders, you look down, taking a deep breath. “But I'm happy the way things are now and who knows what may come next? I'll just take things slow.”

“You know what comes next.” Stacy chuckles. “Trust me, you'll two be dating in no time.”

“I bet,” Jimmy adds.

“Guys, just–” The door opening cuts you off, and you can't help but smile to see Billy. “Hey, you.”

“Hey, you.” He answers, glancing at the other two. “Hi, everyone else who doesn't live here.” Closing the door shut, he makes his way over you. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yup.” Nodding, you blush when he bends over to place a kiss on your lips.

“Good. I'll shower and... Something's burning.”

“Jimmy!” Both you and Stacy shout and the poor guy sets in motion, crouching in front of the oven.

“Please don't let Jimmy burn the kitchen to the ground,” Billy whispers on your ear before heading to the bathroom.

The chicken was burned, but Jimmy had the decency of taking those parts for himself. Other than that, he's quite a good cook. And this dinner is nothing like the formal meals you had back home. It's loud, filled with laughter and stupid jokes, that are no fun at all but make you laugh anyway. An hour later, after Jimmy went to the grocery store to buy chocolate bars for dessert, you're just seating at the table, fighting with Stacy for the last piece.

“Oh, listen up!” Jimmy raises his voice, making both you and Stacy quit arguing. And you decide to let her keep the bar. “I spoke to my grandfather's friend and... He'll give you a chance. So show up on Monday by nine and I'll start filling you up with everything you gotta know.”

“Oh my gosh, for real!?” You exclaim, a bright smile on your lips. “That's absolutely amazing. It'll be so fun working with you.” Standing up, you bend over the table a little to high-five Jimmy. “Great!”

“So... Will I have to ask?” Billy speaks up when you sit down again, staring at you.

“Well, I was waiting for an answer before telling you. Jimmy said something about a diving equipment store so I asked him to speak to the owner to get me a job.” Turning your body towards Billy, you smile. “And it seems like it's happening.”

“Are you sure you want an actual job?” He asks, and you know what he means. You never had a job before, and well, you don't understand much about diving stuff. But you want this. You want to have something to do, and you want to make some money too, despite the untouched bag of money you have.

“Yeah. Jimmy promised to teach me everything I need to know and he'll keep his promise or else nobody will ever hear of him again.” As you speak, you stare at Jimmy, lowering your voice.

“I'm not scared of you, Lily. But I'm scared of Billy so don't worry I'll keep the promise.” He winks at you, and you can tell he's bringing the Chad incident back again.

“You know what...” Stacy says, taking a dramatically deep breath and getting up. “It's a little late and I believe these two want some alone time so we should get going.”

“Agreed.” Jimmy quickly follows her lead. “Well, see you guys around.”

“Bye.” You mutter, already moving to the sink to do the dishes.

Billy joins and helps you, so it's done in only a couple of minutes. Then, you move to the couch, and you couldn't contain your happiness when you found Grease on TV, and somehow you managed to make Billy watch without complaining too much. At the beginning of the movie, you were seated normally, side by side, but as time went by, you started to move, closer and closer, until you're lying down, with Billy's chest pressed against your back in a spoon position. But the awkwardness faded soon enough, and you surrendered to the bliss of being held by him.

When the movie ended, you started singing along to the last song, trying to annoy Billy as much as you could. But up next is a horror movie, and of course, Billy is forcing you to watch it since he threw the remote control somewhere on the floor and won't let you get up to take it. But since it isn't very good, both of you started to lose interest.

“Hey...” He mutters. “Are you sure about this job thing? What if your father calls tomorrow saying this whole thing is over and you can go back home?”

“Uhm...” You weren't thinking about that. Actually, the life you're living now has easily become the only life you have. The rest feels more distant with every passing day. But the decision isn't hard to make. Now, you know what you want, and you will do what makes you happy. “I'd still show up on Monday. I want this job. I want to have a purpose in life, even if it's selling diving stuff.” Shrugging your shoulders, you furrow your eyebrows at a particularly disgusting scene.

“I don't think your parents would allow it,” Billy speaks low, and you feel as he moves the hair away from your neck, starting to run his fingers through the skin, so softly you barely feel it.

“To hell with me what my parents think.” His fingertips burn, but it makes you shiver at the same time. You can't help but close your eyes at the sensation, giggling a little when he touches a ticklish spot. “This feels nice.”

“Does it?”

You're about to answer when you feel his lips replacing his fingers, and breath gets caught in your throat. For a girl who had never truly kissed anyone before, this is a whole new level. “Oh...” You mutter, lightly elbowing him, mostly out of nervousness, when you feel his teeth on your skin. “Didn't take you for a biter, Hargrove.”

“Only if you ask.”

“Alright then...” Moving, you turn around until you're facing him, your lips chasing his as if it's a matter of life and death. And it kinda is. You felt like you were dead, suffocated by all the things you had to participate in, the friends you had to pretend to like, the formal meetings, the family business, the rules, and etiquette. Everything you didn't want to be. But when Billy came along, you felt like you were finally allowed to swim to the surface and breathe. Billy is real, he doesn't fake it. When he's angry, he's angry, and when he's sad, he's sad.

In a way, Billy brought back to life, down to Earth, and pulled you up among the clouds at the same time. Because that's where you are now, kissing him, for far too long maybe, with only a few pauses to catch a breath. It's addictive, inebriating, and you'd stay here forever if you could because nothing else matters. His hands run through your body, respectfully, never pushing you, never going too far. You'd never expect this from the Billy Gisele told you about.

“We should be together.” You let out once you break apart again, catching your breath. But you regret it because you might have ruined the moment... But you can't help but wonder how many girls Billy had, in the exact position you are now, making out, just so it'll all over the next day. And you don't want that. You want him, for more than just a couple of days... And yes, you failed. You are falling in love with Billy. Clearing your throat you shake your head. “I mean... I just thought...”

“Look at me.” With his index finger, he lifts your head so you're staring into his eyes again. “This won't ever be accepted by anyone in your circle. Parents, friends, relatives... You know that right? Nobody will support this relationship.”

“I don't need their support. I've been told what to do my whole life. What clothes to wear, what friends I should grow close to, what to major in... I'm tired of this shit, I want you.” It just comes out, too fast, and you don't even know what to say to cover it up. Because it's the truth. “California never felt like home to me until you came along. This... This place feels more like home than the house I grew up in.”

“I... I wish you could stay here.” Billy's voice it's so low it makes you wonder if you heard him right.

“Stay here as in... Mmm... Living here? Even after the gang is arrested?” Blushing, you decide to be brave and ask him. It's not like you could pretend you didn't hear it. And yes, living here sounds a lot better than going back to the house.

“Yeah.” He nods, taking a deep breath. “I can't give you a big ass garden, a pool or–”

“I'd trade all of that for kisses, so I think we'd be good.” Rolling your eyes, you cut him off, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, really?” In a fake menacing tone, Billy stars to move, trying to stay above you, but there's no enough couch and you start falling off.

“Billy, wait!” Laughing, you try to push him off. “I'm falling!”

“That's too bad.” Even though he doesn't stop and you do miss the couch completely, he manages to hold you by the waist, breaking your fall and instead, laying you softly on the floor before moving to hover above you, his body pressing yours against the cold ground.

Smiling, you wrap your arms around his neck. “You know I can–”

“Be my girlfriend.” Billy cuts you off, his face getting all serious suddenly. He's not joking.

“W-what?” It's not that you didn't get it, it's just that you can't believe. And, by the look on his face, he took that as a doubt. He's beginning to move away, but you grab a handful of his shirt, forcing him to stay where he is. “Yes.” You burst out, biting your lip. “I wanna be your girlfriend.”

The smile that comes to his lips is beautiful, breathtaking. Your favorite view in the world. “Good.” And with that, he leans down to kiss you again.

×

@multific @dontxfearxthereaper @nope-thanks @nikkixostan @shinydixon @clockworkballerina @infinitelycharmed23 @lilred91

[ac3id]

Selfish [ii/iii]

Pairings: Yandere!Miruko ( Usagiyama Rumi ) x fem!reader

Warnings:  y/n's life goes📉,alcohol consumption, harassment, uses of aphrodisiacs, dom!Rumi consensual smut

[a/n:dm us if you want to be added or removed from our taglist]

Summary: You are satisfied with your life, as a successful lawyer, you’re rich and powerful. Your life never boring as you often visit foreign countries with your friends, of course until you meet Miruko the Rabbit Hero one day in the court. A conflict between your boss and her end in the court and pique her interest when you manage to win the case. Miruko is selfish, and she must have you, she’ll not stop until she has you. She may along the way ruin your life so the only person you have is her. Miruko really doesn't care, she’s selfish.

word count: 2.9k

part i, ii, iii

masterlist

The frantic ringing of your cell phone woke you up from your sleep.You frowned thinking it was your alarm clock waking you up for another tiring day. You brought the device to your face and squinted as the bright light illuminated the darkroom and stung your eyes. 

"What?" you said as you recognized the caller I.D, it displayed your boss's name and you groaned. Picking up the call you placed it to your ear and immediately regretted it. 

"L/N," he snarled into the phone and you almost flinched. Your mind started going about all the reasons for him to be calling you at this hour. 

Did he found out about me slacking? In the end, you couldn't find a reason. 

"Yes? Sir?" you ask, "Don't play innocent now! Why did you do it? Do you realize what could have happened if the Mayor had died? How much did they pay you?" he screamed into the phone and your face paled.

 "What do you mean? I-" "Oh! Don't start now!!" he cut you off, sweat was rolling from your forehead despite the chillness of the air conditioning. You felt sick. An urge to throw up your dinner propelled you. Your boss continued to explain how you had leaked confidential information about the Mayor's whereabouts for a secret meeting. Your firm was the only one who had this information, it was only given to a trusted few- including you. 

Your boss informed that a few villains had attacked the Mayor and when interrogated about how they knew about the meeting, they answered that a woman by 'Y/N L/N' had told them about it. This was, obviously, false. The night the villains reported about meeting with you- you were with Neo (more like Miruko) at the gala. It could not have been you. 

Confident, you blurt out your response. "It was not me! I was with Neo on Saturday night. The annual Pro-Hero meet. I was with him the entire time! I'm being set up!" there was a pause from his side and you hear a sigh. 

"That must be true, Y/N." He called you by your name, finally. "I trust you, you would never do this to us. There will an inspection. You'll be called anytime now. I called to warn you. I have known you for five years! There is no way it was you! Do you have any ideas about who could be setting you up?" 

His voice was softer as he spoke and a wave of relief hit you. "I don't know, sir. Could be anyone who does not like me, could also be someone from the firm!" you exclaimed, "You're correct. Listen, Y/N, you'll be fine. We will get you out of here, okay?" he continued and both of you talked about the potential suspects for about ten minutes and ended the call. 

Sleep came scarcely it felt as if you had only closed your eyes for ten minutes and the birds had started chirping welcoming a new day. You got up on your bed and palmed your temples the anxiety from the night started to build up again. You ran to the washroom as you hovered over the toilet seat and emptied your stomach vomiting. You felt sick. Even though you knew that you weren't at fault the nervousness of getting sued still built up bad.

You started cleaning up and heard your phone ring. You knew why they had called. 

"Hello? Y/N L/N?" a feminine voice greeted you, "Yes, that's me, good morning." you greeted despite how bitter your mouth felt. "Good morning to you too. Can you come down to the station ASAP? It's for a case." she asked. "It's for a case?" 

"I cannot disclose the details via call, we will tell you as soon as you arrive, good day." she hung up the call and you scoffed, you continued with your routine and made your way down to the station. 

They sat you down in an integration room, you had been here before but this time it was different. You were not with client this time.

"Hello, L/N," It was Lee David, the bastard hated you. All the time at trial, the suspect he brought back was proven not guilty due to your courtesy. Seeing you sitting down, minutes away from getting sued brought him great satisfaction. 

"Hello, Mr.Lee," you greeted him with a bitchy smile which he returned. "You look like shit." You continued signaling to his messy hair and sleep-deprived eyes. "What's with the new hair? Did you shed your skin, you snake?" he glared at you and you laughed. "That was a very bad one Mr.Lee," 

"Enough, let's get down to business." Another inspector came they asked you questions and you answered truthfully.

Maybe it was that luck was not on your hand that day because, in the end, you were charged with breach of contract and had to pay your entire life's worth to the Government. 

How did this happen? When the detectives called Neo to confirm your alibi, he confessed that you did attend the gala with him but the entire night he did not know your whereabouts. That was no lie, you were with Miruko. But you couldn't have disclosed that or what the two of you were doing together. So, you sat and watched as your whole life fell apart. 

Every day became harder after your fall. Your friends 'left', your firm fired you. You couldn't even afford your apartment anymore! You lived with a college friend who still cared about, drank away all your worries. You had reached the rock bottom. Nothing could have been worse than this. 

Oh boy, you were wrong. 

It was another one of those nights were you drank away your worries and down at a park thinking about better days. It was late, you did not notice the thugs who were surrounding you until you felt a hand on your shoulder. You quickly turned back to be greeted with an ugly face smiling down at you. 

"It's late miss, why don't you come with us? We will take care of you. It's quite dangerous for women like yourself to be alone now, right?" 

He turned to his friends behind him and started giggling, your blood grew cold as his grip tightened on your shoulder. 

"No, I am fine." You tried swatting his hand away but it wouldn't budge, "C'mon now, princess. Come with us! we'll show ya' a great time." 

"What's going on over there?" A familiar voice calls out and everyone whips their heads to the source. Miruko stands, glaring at the men and you feel the leader's grip fall from your shoulder. She was in her joggers, probably out on a run. 

They knew better than to mess with Miruko. 

"Hey, you there? Are you okay?" Miruko runs up to where you were sitting, you stand up as she approaches. A small gasp leaves her when she recognizes you. 

"Y/N," she starts, "How are you- I heard what happened and I can not help but blame my-" 

"Thanks for scaring those guys off." 

Maybe it was Miruko fault, maybe it was not. You did not care anymore. 

"Y/N," she called out sternly trying to look at your face but you turned away. There was a pause, silence, and then she placed two fingers under your chin and pulled your face to face her. She wore a soft expression which made you groan internally. You didn't need her pity. 

"Listen,-" "It's not your fault!" you exclaimed before she could start. 

"Please don't." Miruko sighed as she let go of your face, "Where are you going to stay tonight?" she asked. 

"At my friend's place," "How far is it from here?" 

"An hour." Miruko frowned, "Stay over at mine, you're in no shape to travel alone for an hour." she says pointing out to your red cheeks still intoxicated. She was right if you left now there was no guarantee you wouldn't run into weirdos from before. 

"Fine." You say as you follow Miruko.

Miruko's place wasn't far. She lived in a gated community very much like you did before your life went upside down. You followed her into the kitchen where she put down a glass of water for you.

"It's late, you should sleep. I'll be arranging the guest room. Just come upstairs after you've...drank the water.." It was an awkward sentence to say. 

You followed her instructions as you gulped the water slightly cringing at the taste. You walked up the penthouse and saw Miruko standing in front of the guest room scrolling through her phone. She turned to you as she saw you approach her, "I have kept some comfortable clothes you can sleep in," she said scanning your body you almost thought she was checking you out (she was) until you realized you were wearing jeans. "Yeah, um, thank you again. Miruko."

 "Rumi, call me Rumi, Y/N." 

"Right, Rumi."

You wished her goodnight and changed out of your clothes into the large shirt and shorts she had presented out for you. You got into the bed, switched off the lights, and drifted off to sleep. After what felt like minutes you were awoken again. 

"Hot," you whispered. You felt hot all over your body, you discarded yourself of the large shirt and shorts. Left in a spaghetti top and your panties you kicked your blanket and tried to go back to sleep but your mind felt hazy. 

You felt your clit throb with need, you couldn't take it anymore.

You open the door to Miruko's bedroom. You feel yourself get wetter when you find sleeping on her bed, glowing under the moonlight. 

You climb on her bed and make your way to straddle her left thigh

You tried to relax your breathing as you find yourself shamelessly grinding on her thigh, trying desperately to get yourself off and make the pain go away. This was embarrassing

you leaned down to softly kiss her neck, you let your hand go under her robe, tracing her abs, your breath hot against her neck. You feel her stir under you she slowly opens her eyes. Her red eyes ran over your body taking in your desperate figure. You panties wet, clinging to your cunt and nipples hard under the thin tank top you wore. You realize she had woken up and stopped grinding against her, embarrassed you look away from her bringing your trembling fingers from her body, 

"I am sorry, I don't know wh-" 

"Continue." 

"What?" you were confused, your brows knit together as you look back at Miruko. Her face is stern, she is looking up at you with a glare, her gaze makes your clit throb and you try your best to not act on instinct. 

"I said." she pauses and pushes her leg harder between your legs, applying pressure on your clit and you let out a soft moan.

 "Continue, fuck yourself. Give me a show."

her voice was deeper, it sent shivers down your spine. Your face heated up as you started grinding yourself against her thigh again small whimpers escaping.

Under you, Miruko smirked, the aphrodisiac she had given you had worked. 

She lets out the quietest moan as she watched you fuck yourself on her thigh. Her gaze so intense you felt the tips of your ears burning.

You brush your lips against hers, Miroku kisses you passionately, gently, softly, wanting to be as tender with you as possible. Your lips molding perfectly together. You bite her bottom lip softly, trailing kisses down her neck, tugging on the ends of her hair slightly to make her head go back, allowing you more access.

"So impatient today, huh?" she purred, her hand resting on your hip, urging you to go on. You panted in response, clutching her leg between your thighs

A soft whimper escapes from you making her grip tighten on your hip, definitely leaving bruises, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. The flimsy material of your panties allows you to feel the defined muscles of her thigh as your clit grounds into it.

You pull away from her neck to grind down harder. she can feel your arousal seeping to her thigh.

You began leaving kisses down the valley of her toned breasts, slowly lapping your tongue and sucking on the skin around her nipples. You attach your lips to her right nipple, rolling your tongue on the bud and sucking harshly as you continued to grind yourself against her. You shivered at the stimulation your clit received from the friction of her muscles, feeling your arousal dampening the cotton of your panties, her head went back a moan escaping her lips.

You whimpered, the noise fueling you on moving your hips faster. Miruko looked up at you in awe, there was something so needy about you as you rode her thigh, your pleas, and whines, making her clit throb with arousal.

You place your arms over her shoulders and begins to rock you back and forth on her thigh, gently encouraging you with soft strokes to your skin.

You close your eyes, head rolling back as your hips stutter, the wet soft slapping of your skin against hers bringing you much closer to your climax.

Miruko piercing eyes never left your body. Her grip on your waist getting tighter, "Go harder, sugar. I wanna see you cum." You nodded and quickened your pace.

Your grip tightens on her shoulders as you prepared yourself for the intense wave of pleasure.

Within seconds, an orgasm washed over you like a wave. You continued to ride it out grinding yourself on her thigh. Your grinding slowing down and eventually coming to a stop. Both of you were panting. You looked down to see the mess you made on her thigh.

''Mommy, p-please take care of me'' you sobbed, tears pricking around the corner your eyes. The way you were addressing turned her on. You were so desperate. 

''It hurts'' your voice cracked which broke Miruko's heart she underestimated the dose of the drugs she had given you.

"Is my pretty girl horny?" you sobbed in response making her move your panties to the side, letting her finger move up your folds collecting your arousal. She groaned softly. "Fuck I've barely touched you, sugar and you're already soaked."

"I-I want m-more." it was nothing more than a mere whisper with a sob.

She discards your drenched panties and strips off her robe and gently lays you onto your back, lining your cunt up to hers. She looks up at you, a smile playing around her lips. The look on her face made you drool further for her, your thighs rubbing together in an attempt to soothe your intense heat

You lie pliantly beneath her, your hair splayed beneath her, making you look angelic.

"you ready, sugar?" she asked, gazing at you as she straddled your waist. you nodded jolts of pleasure running up your spine in anticipation.

She grinds her pussy down onto yours, she chokes out a moan, her eyes rolling back as your juices intermingle.

Your clits rubbed against each other. You moaning softly underneath her drove her wild. It fueled her desire, causing her to grip your hips and grind into you harder, panting wildly pressing you further into her mattress. Every thrust against your sensitive cunt an electric charge shoots through your body.

Your moans are loud and obscene as your wet pussy rubs over hers. "Oh, yeah, mommy! Harder! Right there, fuck!" you screamed, throwing you head back and moaning.

"Shit," she whispered and growled, "Like that, sugar?" 

"Ah, fuck, right there," you moan, gripping the sheets beneath you. Miroku pants, reveling in the sight beneath her; your spread legs in between hers, your hardened nipples and back arching at the slightest movements. 

"My pretty girl. You look so cute like this," she grinds her cunt against yours faster, her tits bounce with every thrust. The pitch of her moans growing higher. Both of your moans fill the room. You tremble beneath her as she fastens her pace again

You pull her in close, your lips claiming hers in a hot kiss. You explored every part of Miruko's mouth, feeling her soft lips against yours. you bit her bottom lip as the erotic and lewd noises of your cunts rubbing against each other fill your ears.

"Ahhh -fuck-mommy," you scream in between kisses. she pulls away to look at you moaning and whining. she moved a few strands of loose hair, biting her lip and putting her hands on either side of your head to help her increase her pace.

You both groan out, your hands clasping her arm as she grinds forward quicker and harder. 

"Dirty girl... feels so fucking good," she breathes out, increasing her pace to a medium as she throws her head back in ecstasy.

"shit... I'm close mommy, so close," you whimper, your lips parted as her pace quickens. her head is slightly thrown back, moaning into oblivion as her orgasm comes closer. "God, cum for me, sugar," she groans, her grip on your leg getting tighter.

Your back arches one last time before your orgasm rolls like powerful waves through your body, making you tremble beneath Miruko's frame. 

"You did so well for me, my precious girl. Always so good for me."

her hands find your hips and her brows scrunch together and her lips opening with soft pants. Riding her orgasm as you tremble with the aftershocks of yours.

Honestly, she just wanted you to cum again. You looked so hot while doing so, she wanted to see you doing it — she wanted to see your pretty face in pleasure, and your eyes rolled back. she wanted to hear you moan while watching you do it, too.

"Thank you," you murmur, your lips just barely brushing against hers. you sigh heavily, chest heaving as she kisses you back.

"It’s all right." 

You slump down next to Miruko and drift off, Miruko watches you sleep as she smiles to herself. Her plan had worked. 

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

The Nuptial Necessity - Chapter 15

A 12xRose Human AU

Despite an unglamorous job description, Rose loves the work she does with The Thistle Foundation, a charity founded by her best friend’s great-uncle.  It doesn’t hurt that her boss, her friend’s father, is easy on the eyes.  With a great job, wonderful friends and a loving family, life couldn’t be better – except for having someone to share it with.

All of that is threatened, though, when the great-uncle dies – and sets a strange condition for his nephew to inherit, jeopardizing the Foundation and Rose’s future, sparking a chain of events that might just get her everything she dreamed of and more.

Chapters will be posted on Saturdays and Tuesdays.  Many thanks to my beta, @stupidsatsuma

Rated: Explicit, for eventual smut

@doctorroseprompts

AO3  |  Masterlist

—

Monday, 3 days after the wedding

Malcolm let Rose lead the way into the office, holding the door for her.  On the surface it was an ordinary Monday, but the still unfamiliar weight of the ring on his finger said it was anything but.

“I’ll be in my office,” he muttered as she got settled at her desk.  “I’ve got that conference call in twenty minutes or so.  You good?”

Rose nodded, glancing down briefly as her desk phone rang before smiling wryly back up at him.  “Yep.  Reconfirming with the vendors for Saturday, and writing thank you notes for the- the wedding presents.  Fun times.”

“Let me know if I can help,” he offered, frowning when she barked a laugh.

“Um, no.  Your handwriting’s atrocious- you should’ve been a doctor.  I got this.  But, thank you.”  She gave him a sweet smile, bright eyes still shining with humor, and he wanted to kiss her – badly.

Clearing his throat he rocked back on his heels, pushing his bag further up his shoulder.  “Well, all right then.  Hop to.  Thank you.”

“Thank you.”

Spinning on his heel, he strode into his office with confidence, throwing himself into his desk chair only for his eyes to go straight to the back of Rose’s head.  When he realized he was twirling his ring on his finger he dropped his hands, closing his eyes and sighing.

It was only the third full day, but he already knew - the next five years would be unbearable.

-

Sipping at his tea on his way back from the breakroom, Malcolm was annoyed to discover it wasn’t right.  It was too hot and hadn’t steeped long enough, making it almost unbearable.  And it wasn’t that he was unfamiliar with the process; while he did have a chef come in three times a week to cook for him and leave leftovers, and a maid every other day to clean, he was otherwise self-sufficient.  He certainly made his own cuppa each morning, and had no trouble with that, but didn’t understand how he could’ve gone so wrong.

Of course, he rarely made himself a cuppa in the office.  He never had to; just as the idea would occur to him to make one, Rose would appear in his doorway carrying a steaming mug, perfectly made.

I don’t know why I didn’t just ask her for one, he grumbled to himself, stopping in the hallway as he debated going back and throwing out what he had.  It was a lie, though; he knew exactly why.  After his revelation on the dance floor, he had promised himself to not take advantage of her in any way.  That, unfortunately, he’d decided included something as simple as making him a hot beverage.

The elevator dinged, then, and someone got off and slammed the door open.  From where he’d stopped he was just around the corner from the entryway and Rose’s desk, able to hear without seeing or being seen.

“I want to see him.  Now.”

He was dismayed, but not surprised, to recognize his ex-wife’s voice.  Moving forward to rescue Rose, he paused at her calm reply.

“No.”

“What?”

“I said, no,” Rose repeated, and he didn’t need to see her face to know she had on what she called her pleasant customer service smile.  It was very distinct, with a tone to match, and he could tell both were out in full force.  “He doesn’t want to see you, and quite frankly, neither do I.  We’re very busy with the Gala this weekend.  Please leave.”

He peeked around the corner, watching Missy’s hackles rise.

“Listen here, cupcake,” she snarled, and Malcolm’s jaw clenched.  Without thinking, he moved forward, unintentionally hidden from Rose’s view by the way Missy was leaning over her.  “I don’t care.  I want to see him, and I want to see him now.  You might have your claws in him, but it won’t last.  Sooner or later he’ll get tired of your magical pussy and come home.  He and I are eternal, dingbat, inevitable.  And you? Fleeting, like a common fruit fly.  You think you have power?  The upper hand?  Malcolm is an intellectual, a genius.  Oh, I’m sure he likes your pretty little mouth, that it’s very talented, but he’s not one to let his cock do the thinking for long.  I-”

Malcolm cleared his throat, loudly, making both women jump; Missy turned, inadvertently revealing Rose, who was still smiling but in a very strained way.  Oh, sweetheart, he spared her a thought, before focusing on his ex-wife, trying to control himself through his rage.  He vividly remembered the last time he’d been this angry; his fury had been directed at her then, too, sharing their bed- his bed- with their fucking babysitter, who’d been underage to boot.

“Malcolm, dear, hello,” Missy said, now all sugar and spice, if a bit flustered.  “You won’t believe what-”

“Fuck off.”

“What?”

“Fuck.  Off,” he enunciated clearly, taking measured steps to close the small, remaining gap between them.  “Don’t even start, I heard every word.  How dare you, come into my place of business and speak to my wife that way?  I have tolerated your bullshit for many years for the sake of our daughter, but no more.  I’ll have you banned from the building.  You are no longer welcome in my presence. Now fuck off, before I have Rose call security.”

He narrowed his eyes, leaning into her, letting Missy see the truth in his words.  Once upon a time she’d known him better than anyone else on Earth, but those days were long gone – neither had ever been willing to admit it, though, but he was sure now.

“Malcolm,” she whispered, but he remained stony-faced.

“Rose.”

She didn’t hesitate to pick up the receiver, dialing the number for security.

Missy looked between them, lip trembling.  “My love, please.”

The act was almost convincing.  

But it was still an act.

“Go.”

A storm brewed quickly in Missy’s eyes, and she straightened her spine, mask firmly in place.  “Fine.  I’ll go – for now.”  She broke the gaze to glare at Rose.  “This isn’t over,” she warned ominously, before stalking towards the lift in a dramatic fashion.

Malcolm didn’t move until the lift doors closed behind her, and based on the sigh of relief behind him, neither had Rose.  Turning back to her, he smiled sympathetically.  “All right?” Then he shook his head, snorting. “Course you’re not.  I’m sorry.  Don’t listen to a word she said, really.”

“I’m okay.”  Her smile was a bit trepidatious, but genuine.  “If anything, I’m mad at you.”

“Me?  What did I do?!”

“I had an excellent smackdown comeback ready, but you swooped in before I could say it!  It was devastating, and very clever.  Dingbat, as if.”

They shared a reluctant, slow-growing grin, and Malcolm’s shoulders unhunched somewhat, now that the threat had passed.  “Still, I am sorry about her.  She’s just…” He searched for an adequate term, but came up empty, and shrugged.  “Her. There’s no rhyme or reason.  But I was serious about banning her from the building.”

“She’s never liked me that much,” Rose put on a brave face.  “I’m okay, really.  Get back to work.”

He hesitated, but she shooed him away.  “Sure?”

“Yes, but like I said, very busy.  Go on.”

“All right.”  He drifted towards his office door, pausing one last time to look back at her.

She caught him, though, and rolled her eyes.  “Go.  Oh, and by the way, she was right about one thing.”

“What’s that?”

Red lips curled up in a smile that was borderline predatory.  “I do have a very talented mouth.  For the record.”

And then she went back to her email as if nothing had been said.

He found it very difficult to concentrate on anything else for the rest of the day.

-

“Sorry I’m late,” Rose panted, hurrying up to the table where Clara sat waiting for her.  The restaurant was crowded, and she had to dodge and weave between the chair backs.  “Traffic was awful.”

“You didn’t take the Tube?”

She all but fell into her seat, shaking her head.  “Malcolm insisted Graham drive me.  I gotta say, having a driver is brilliant.  Traffic’s just a bitch.”

“Speaking of…” Clara drawled, leaning back in her chair, “was there a thing with my mum today?”

“Oh.”  Slowly closing her menu, Rose shot her friend a guilty smile.  “Yes, but… she started it.”  When Clara just raised an eyebrow, Rose sighed.  “She showed up, wanted to see Malcolm.  He didn’t want to see her, so… I told her no.  She implied- well, outright accused, actually- that I had seduced him away from her and that when he gets tired of me, he’ll go back to her.”

Clara’s mouth fell open, and she spluttered.  “I- You- What- Why- He- That’s- She- Are you fuuuuucking kidding me?”

“Nope.”  Rose shook her head.  “She gave me this whole little speech about how they’re eternal, and I’m a fruit fly.  It was… unbelievable.  And then-”

“What?  Did my dad hear any of this?”

“Oh, that’s the best part.  She’s still going off on me, when he just appears out of nowhere and tells her to fuck off.  Well, eventually she does, telling me ‘this isn’t over’.  What does that even mean?”

Clara whistled.  “Wow.  You are… so fucked.  He really yelled at her?”

“Yeah.  She was not thrilled.”  Rose glanced down at her hands, which were folded neatly on top of the menu.  The ring on her left hand made her feel guilty.  “I guess she called you – I’m sorry if she was hurt.”

Her friend was silent for a long minute.  “Hard to tell with her,” she finally said.  “Sounds like she deserved it, at least sort of.”

Rose shrugged.  “Harsh things were said on both sides.”

“Fair enough.  Honestly, I try to stay out of it.  Now, I’m starving- shall we order?”

-

“Oh, wow,” Rose moaned, savoring the last bite.  “Best chocolate cake in the city, hands down.  Blimey.”

Clara snickered, sipping at her tea.  “Sounds like you want to make love to that thing.”  She’d had a few bites, but backed off when Rose practically devoured it.

“I do.  This is better than sex, honestly.”

“Oh?  Had any, lately?”

Rose froze, her own mug halfway to her lips.  “What?  No, you know that.  Not since… the guy, with the, the thing,” she gestured towards her lip; her last partner had had an unfortunate goatee.  And terrible dental hygiene. The ‘relationship’ hadn’t lasted long at all.

“I just thought… you did get married on Friday…” Clara trailed off, looking at her meaningfully.  “You can tell me, you know.”

She glanced around surreptitiously before leaning forward.  “Clar, you know it’s not like that.”

“Oh, please.  I’m not blind.  I know you and Antonio desperately want to jump each other’s bones, and if I’m the reason you’re not, well, don’t let me be.  I’m fine with it.  Really.”

“ Antonio?”

Clara nodded.  “Yes, Antonio, your new husband.  That’s what I’m going to call him when it comes to the idea of you two… doing things to each other.  I can deal a lot better when I don’t think about who he is.  So, Antonio.”

“Well, Antonio and I are doing nothing.  And I have no idea where you get the idea that we might want to.  Or, well, that he might- I can’t talk about this with you!  And even if I could, there’s nothing to talk about.”

“Oh, bullshit.  Come on, I saw you dancing, at the wedding- your wedding.  You looked…  Oh, Rose, really.  I think you should make a move.”

“What?  No!  I can’t do that,” Rose laughed defensively.  “C’mon.  Don’t be absurd.”

Clara pursed her lips.  “Fine.  Then how did you spend your wedding night?”

Rose blushed.  “Well… technically, we did spend the night together.”  She laughed when Clara’s eyes went wide.  “After everyone left we ordered in a pizza and watched a movie- Monty Python’s Holy Grail.  Then we fell asleep, together, on the couch.  But nothing happened.”

What she didn’t say was that at some point she’d woken in the middle of the night to find them spooned together, Malcolm’s strong arm around her waist, anchoring him to her.  And, for one wild moment, she had thought that something might happen when she shifted against him and felt… something, maybe the remote, maybe not, but his deep, even breathing had quickly lulled her back to sleep.

When she woke again, she was alone.

“Well, I’m serious.  You need to make a move.  He wants you to, believe me, but he won’t.”

“You want me to seduce your- Antonio?  Really?”

“Yes.”  Clara leaned forward, arms crossed on the table, looking far too serious.  “I want you to spend the next week watching him, but especially Saturday at the Gala.  See how he looks at you, talks about you, the way he lights up when he sees you.  Then I want you to take him home and fuck him silly – I guarantee he wants it too.”

Rose licked her lips nervously, trying to follow.  “Uh…”

“Don’t say anything,” her friend ordered, rising.  “Just think about it.”

With a wriggle of her fingers Clara swanned off, leaving Rose with the bill – and a lot to think about.

I can’t do that, though.  Can I?

[thedeadishscribe]

Sidestep/Ortega

My Fallen Hero fic is, more or less, finally done! It features my Sidestep, Rysen Adri, and his thoughts on post game Fallen Hero: Rebirth. I seem to be doing a lot of post games.

I’m probably gonna post this to ao3 later because formatting is a bitch.

Please, enjoy!

Love, the dead dude

Julia had asked a fair question—what did that kiss mean?

I’m not sure myself, all I knew is that hearing the name Rysen was sweeter than I cared to admit. Was that even my name anymore? Again, not sure. What the hell, exactly, was going on in my life? Ortega, John, Mortum, The Rangers. Ouroboros. The new name I had chosen. The thought came to me at the party, the classic description of a serpent devouring its own tail, often used to signify the cycles of the universe and the process of rebirth—and it felt right at the time—but it felt positively wonderful in the afterglow of the gala. Fitting as can be really. Reborn, baptized in flame, smoke, and blood. Definitely several bruises and broken bones. Hopefully no corpses.

An odd sentiment for a demon of Los Diablos.

          First I had considered ‘Mindflayer’, but it wasn’t exactly me, as menacing a choice as it would have been. ‘Demon’ would have been too cheesy, too on the nose. Can’t really remember what made me think of it, but it simply fit. Even now I savor it on my tongue. Ouroboros. That one news station somehow fucked it up into ‘aurabeesknees’, but they’re in the minority so I guess I can let them off the hook. May have to pay a visit at a later date, however.

          Her and I text, call, all the things kids do nowadays. I hate that I can’t get enough. Of her laugh, her smile, the damn way she seductively wiggles her eyebrows to make me blush. Fuck, I hate admitting I blush too. I’m supposed to be a damn villain, not an anime protagonist. Speaking of which, I haven’t checked up on that lately. Like at all. Been too busy with villainy things. Anime can be villainous, right? We all know the ones. Not gonna name names though, that wouldn’t be fair.

          Just skirting around my problems now though, as per usual. I keep meaning to bring up how I’ve changed (minus the specific details, of course), to say something, and yet every time I choke and bring out my classic comedic deflection bullshit instead. I’m almost entirely positive Ortega can see through that, she’s just gotten… more subtle and less brash. Well, ‘less brash’ isn’t a good way to put it. ‘More selective in her bullrushing’ is more apt. Selective dumbassery is still dumbassery. I should know, I started my own little dumbass enterprise, may as well make a sign to post around the city. I can see it now, ‘Dumbass Incorporated seeking henchs now, will provide free lunch, health, and dental’. That’ll really draw them in. You don’t see many villains offering dental anymore. Could be a real selling point for when I want to expand.

          Truth be told, I’m a fan of the whole angels and demons trope we’re playing out. Sure, being a hero is nice and all, but being bad simply feels so good. Clichés? As many as you want. Monologues? Not recommended, but certainly entertaining. The utter sense of power? Fantastic. Maniacal cackling? My favorite part. No really, there’s nothing like a good laugh over the beaten forms of your enemies.

Beaten.

          That’s right, I had beaten Julia… no, Charge, to a pulp. Herald first though, and then Lady Argent not quite as much. There’s a sense of guilt around the first two mentioned. Argent not so much. It felt good in the moment to finally feel an equal to that massive shadow that loomed over me, coddled me, treated me as glass. It felt so good to beat down that perfect picture of a hero with his own vanity in front of his adoring fans, the new guy that got everything I didn’t. Yet, I mangled the woman that I, well, I dare not use the word. Then after learning that Herald wasn’t just a fan of Sidestep, but that Sidestep was his idol? His hero (pardon the pun)? I didn’t think it would hit me this hard but Jesus-fucking-Christ. Just another person I let down. No. No, not me. Sidestep. Sidestep let him down. Ouroboros simply fought him. That’s all. No more, no less.

          Of course, that feels like a lie, though at the same time, it doesn’t? It was difficult enough trying to distinguish Rysen from John sometimes—if Rysen even truly existed anymore—but now I have to differentiate three personas. Four if you included Sidestep, but they are firmly dead and gone. The exhibit, or rather lack thereof, is proof enough of that. I wonder how Ortega feels about it. Angry that someone defiled the memory of the former hero? Motivated for pay back? Does she not care? That would almost feel the worst, and I don’t know why, and I hate it.

God, I can hear her words now, ‘Don’t say you hate things so much, it’ll make you ugly on the inside’. Well guess-fucking-what, Julia. I’m ugly on the inside now. Or have I always been? Everything’s kind of a blur since Heartbreak, which is a long time. Seven years now, more like seven and a half. Yet it all felt like nothing. A bittersweet blob of memory, oddly enough. Incredibly bittersweet.

Should I ask her out on a date? She had promised one. Would that be going too far, however? Too close? Too prone to liability? I’m already in the position, what’s the threat of a little more tragedy in the already turbulent storm? Villains thrive on tragedy, right? Why am I asking so many questions? Too many already.

Fuck it, I’m gonna ask her. Not over the phone, that seems a tad disingenuous. When she asked me to the gala she asked me to meet in person, I should do the same. I’m sure as hell not going to the Rangers HQ. Don’t want to give myself away, let alone the fact that I’d feel like I was asking Steel if Ortega was home and if I could talk to her as if he were her dad. ‘Excuse me, Mr.Chen, is Julia home?’. As team leader was he the dad of the troop? Herald’s the baby and Argent the angsty teen, so definitely. Dear gods, Steel’s a father. Devils help us all. He certainly has the glare down.

I still miss him oddly enough. Not enough to give up my life of crime and don Sidestep’s mask once more. Hell no. I’m not even sure if it’s still in one piece. I’m not sure I want to know.

          Would I do it for Ortega though? As much as I’d love to help, I can’t, I just can’t. Y’know, aside from being a villain now and all, I just… couldn’t. The thought of feeling that thin nanomesh over my form alone made me want to chuck my skin like a meatbag alias. I guess in my position it really is a meatbag alias that I can toss aside whenever I so wish. Rysen and John. I often wonder what would happen if I just decided to live in John full time. What would happen if Rysen were to die while I were inhabiting John’s body. Would I—my consciousness that is—die? Would I just be stuck in a head blind body for the rest of said body’s life? Become him in every sense of the word. I don’t see why not, not that I’m seriously considering it or anything. Though the thought of resigning to a life of underworld business alongside Doctor Mortum isn’t half bad. Not one bit.

          Sometimes dating Mortum as John and trying to respark the old flame with Ortega as Rysen at the same time feels wrong, feels weird, but then I remember that Ortega was flirting with both John and Rysen at the same time, so I guess that totally excuses bad behavior. Definitely. I mean, she’s the master of flings, or at least was. It’s an interesting debate if nothing else. When I’m playing John, I’m still me and yet not. I’m john. John’s even developed his own mannerisms and behaviors, things Rysen would never do or wouldn’t even think of. I suppose this is like how superheroes have their hero and civilian identities. Both are just as real, right? And functionally they’re different people. This is way too much like way too many science-fiction pieces on the self and personal identity. I take ghost in the shell to an entirely other, meaty level

          But boy oh boy, Los Dioblos, hold onto your pants; you’ve heard of the double identity, I now present the triple identity! Groundbreaking, truly. Worn down, tired and retired telepath. Villain representative who just wants to keep his boss happy, hoping to get his cake and eat it too. Then finally the villain himself, Ouroboros, mastermind behind the impossibly elaborate plans. Ok, no one knows Ouroboros is a he, but that’s a good thing. The longer they’re all guessing, the better. I thought balancing Rysen and John was difficult, but Rysen, John, and Ouroboros? Son of a bitch, I didn’t know one person could get this tired. Thank the universe for coffee. Lots of cream lots of sugar preferred, but I’m not too terribly picky in a pinch, I already buy the cheap shit as is. Cheap ol’ Rysen. Yep. That’s me.

I keep talking about all these different identities, and yet I keep coming back to Rysen. Rysen. Rysen. Fuckin’ Rysen. I’m beginning to grow tired of the name. After… everything, I fully expected to shove off that particular shell of a man when I made my debut. I was apparently wrong. He keeps coming after me like a damn ghost. Ortega coming back into the mix certainly didn’t help, any chance of falling off the map died with her recognizing me in the diner. Oh well, I suppose, no plan survives first contact. I should really be surprised it didn’t all snag sooner. A lot sooner. Oh, but what a snag. That jawline, those lips, and gods above, those biceps.

She gives excellent hugs. Yep. That’s definitely what I like about them. The only thing.

          It was only recently that I realized a good memory I often draw upon—one of my few good memories—was that of Ortega kissing me after a particularly hard fight. She almost always initiated, and one time she even used her sparkles to shock my own lips ever so gently. I miss that sensation, funny enough, even if it was only the once. And, despite the fact that she always looked at me like I was fragile, she gave me this look like I was wanted. Like I belonged. Another thing I hate to admit, but I belong in her arms.

Fuck, what am I thinking? I shouldn’t allow myself to think like that, and yet such was the tendency of any good snag.

One other thing I hate to admit to myself—I love her. Son of a bitch, I always loved her, and I regret never telling her.

          I don’t think I could work up the courage to tell her though. Not then, not now, not ever. Aside from not being able to afford it, I don’t have the guts. Attacking a gala with some of Los Diablos’ richest and finest? No problem, just give me some time to plan. Facing a woman significantly larger than me on a date, looking at me with a sweetness in her eye? Nah nah nah nah nah. No way. Can’t do it. I’m weak, absolutely weak. Positively weak.

I hate myself.

          Julia doesn’t want me talking like that, she already made me promise to see a shrink, but she’s not here, inside my head walking down the street to get a cup of sweet, sweet addiction. She can’t dictate my self-talk. Except myself no one can. I doubt it will change any time soon, therapy or no. I hope the couch is comfy enough though. They always look comfy in the movies and on tv. Teary eyed tortured souls letting out their deepest secrets to some stranger taking notes on their entire life. Ew. Probably won’t tell them about the whole villain thing. I wouldn’t go at all and lie about it if I knew Julia would keep tabs on me and make sure I went. She’d probably drag me there herself. She always did care like that.

Oh well, she won’t leave me alone; but that’s a good thing, right? Because damn, what a kiss.

[deadpoet117]

Ohoho

It’s finally “done”! My Fallen Hero Sidestep fic! This take place between Rebirth and Retribution I haven’t played the alpha/beta pls don’t spoil or be angry. I might post it on my ao3 in the relative future because formatting is a bitch and I don’t feel like it.

Enjoy!

Julia had asked a fair question—what did that kiss mean?

I’m not sure myself, all I knew is that hearing the name Rysen was sweeter than I cared to admit. Was that even my name anymore? Again, not sure. What the hell, exactly, was going on in my life? Ortega, John, Mortum, The Rangers. Ouroboros. The new name I had chosen. The thought came to me at the party, the classic description of a serpent devouring its own tail, often used to signify the cycles of the universe and the process of rebirth—and it felt right at the time—but it felt positively wonderful in the afterglow of the gala. Fitting as can be really. Reborn, baptized in flame, smoke, and blood. Definitely several bruises and broken bones. Hopefully no corpses.

An odd sentiment for a demon of Los Diablos.

          First I had considered ‘Mindflayer’, but it wasn’t exactly me, as menacing a choice as it would have been. ‘Demon’ would have been too cheesy, too on the nose. Can’t really remember what made me think of it, but it simply fit. Even now I savor it on my tongue. Ouroboros. That one news station somehow fucked it up into ‘aurabeesknees’, but they’re in the minority so I guess I can let them off the hook. May have to pay a visit at a later date, however.

          Her and I text, call, all the things kids do nowadays. I hate that I can’t get enough. Of her laugh, her smile, the damn way she seductively wiggles her eyebrows to make me blush. Fuck, I hate admitting I blush too. I’m supposed to be a damn villain, not an anime protagonist. Speaking of which, I haven’t checked up on that lately. Like at all. Been too busy with villainy things. Anime can be villainous, right? We all know the ones. Not gonna name names though, that wouldn’t be fair.

          Just skirting around my problems now though, as per usual. I keep meaning to bring up how I’ve changed (minus the specific details, of course), to say something, and yet every time I choke and bring out my classic comedic deflection bullshit instead. I’m almost entirely positive Ortega can see through that, she’s just gotten… more subtle and less brash. Well, ‘less brash’ isn’t a good way to put it. ‘More selective in her bullrushing’ is more apt. Selective dumbassery is still dumbassery. I should know, I started my own little dumbass enterprise, may as well make a sign to post around the city. I can see it now, ‘Dumbass Incorporated seeking henchs now, will provide free lunch, health, and dental’. That’ll really draw them in. You don’t see many villains offering dental anymore. Could be a real selling point for when I want to expand.

          Truth be told, I’m a fan of the whole angels and demons trope we’re playing out. Sure, being a hero is nice and all, but being bad simply feels so good. Clichés? As many as you want. Monologues? Not recommended, but certainly entertaining. The utter sense of power? Fantastic. Maniacal cackling? My favorite part. No really, there’s nothing like a good laugh over the beaten forms of your enemies.

Beaten.

          That’s right, I had beaten Julia… no, Charge, to a pulp. Herald first though, and then Lady Argent not quite as much. There’s a sense of guilt around the first two mentioned. Argent not so much. It felt good in the moment to finally feel an equal to that massive shadow that loomed over me, coddled me, treated me as glass. It felt so good to beat down that perfect picture of a hero with his own vanity in front of his adoring fans, the new guy that got everything I didn’t. Yet, I mangled the woman that I, well, I dare not use the word. Then after learning that Herald wasn’t just a fan of Sidestep, but that Sidestep was his idol? His hero (pardon the pun)? I didn’t think it would hit me this hard but Jesus-fucking-Christ. Just another person I let down. No. No, not me. Sidestep. Sidestep let him down. Ouroboros simply fought him. That’s all. No more, no less.

          Of course, that feels like a lie, though at the same time, it doesn’t? It was difficult enough trying to distinguish Rysen from John sometimes—if Rysen even truly existed anymore—but now I have to differentiate three personas. Four if you included Sidestep, but they are firmly dead and gone. The exhibit, or rather lack thereof, is proof enough of that. I wonder how Ortega feels about it. Angry that someone defiled the memory of the former hero? Motivated for pay back? Does she not care? That would almost feel the worst, and I don’t know why, and I hate it.

God, I can hear her words now, ‘Don’t say you hate things so much, it’ll make you ugly on the inside’. Well guess-fucking-what, Julia. I’m ugly on the inside now. Or have I always been? Everything’s kind of a blur since Heartbreak, which is a long time. Seven years now, more like seven and a half. Yet it all felt like nothing. A bittersweet blob of memory, oddly enough. Incredibly bittersweet.

Should I ask her out on a date? She had promised one. Would that be going too far, however? Too close? Too prone to liability? I’m already in the position, what’s the threat of a little more tragedy in the already turbulent storm? Villains thrive on tragedy, right? Why am I asking so many questions? Too many already.

Fuck it, I’m gonna ask her. Not over the phone, that seems a tad disingenuous. When she asked me to the gala she asked me to meet in person, I should do the same. I’m sure as hell not going to the Rangers HQ. Don’t want to give myself away, let alone the fact that I’d feel like I was asking Steel if Ortega was home and if I could talk to her as if he were her dad. ‘Excuse me, Mr.Chen, is Julia home?’. As team leader was he the dad of the troop? Herald’s the baby and Argent the angsty teen, so definitely. Dear gods, Steel’s a father. Devils help us all. He certainly has the glare down.

I still miss him oddly enough. Not enough to give up my life of crime and don Sidestep’s mask once more. Hell no. I’m not even sure if it’s still in one piece. I’m not sure I want to know.

          Would I do it for Ortega though? As much as I’d love to help, I can’t, I just can’t. Y’know, aside from being a villain now and all, I just… couldn’t. The thought of feeling that thin nanomesh over my form alone made me want to chuck my skin like a meatbag alias. I guess in my position it really is a meatbag alias that I can toss aside whenever I so wish. Rysen and John. I often wonder what would happen if I just decided to live in John full time. What would happen if Rysen were to die while I were inhabiting John’s body. Would I—my consciousness that is—die? Would I just be stuck in a head blind body for the rest of said body’s life? Become him in every sense of the word. I don’t see why not, not that I’m seriously considering it or anything. Though the thought of resigning to a life of underworld business alongside Doctor Mortum isn’t half bad. Not one bit.

          Sometimes dating Mortum as John and trying to respark the old flame with Ortega as Rysen at the same time feels wrong, feels weird, but then I remember that Ortega was flirting with both John and Rysen at the same time, so I guess that totally excuses bad behavior. Definitely. I mean, she’s the master of flings, or at least was. It’s an interesting debate if nothing else. When I’m playing John, I’m still me and yet not. I’m john. John’s even developed his own mannerisms and behaviors, things Rysen would never do or wouldn’t even think of. I suppose this is like how superheroes have their hero and civilian identities. Both are just as real, right? And functionally they’re different people. This is way too much like way too many science-fiction pieces on the self and personal identity. I take ghost in the shell to an entirely other, meaty level

          But boy oh boy, Los Dioblos, hold onto your pants; you’ve heard of the double identity, I now present the triple identity! Groundbreaking, truly. Worn down, tired and retired telepath. Villain representative who just wants to keep his boss happy, hoping to get his cake and eat it too. Then finally the villain himself, Ouroboros, mastermind behind the impossibly elaborate plans. Ok, no one knows Ouroboros is a he, but that’s a good thing. The longer they’re all guessing, the better. I thought balancing Rysen and John was difficult, but Rysen, John, and Ouroboros? Son of a bitch, I didn’t know one person could get this tired. Thank the universe for coffee. Lots of cream lots of sugar preferred, but I’m not too terribly picky in a pinch, I already buy the cheap shit as is. Cheap ol’ Rysen. Yep. That’s me.

I keep talking about all these different identities, and yet I keep coming back to Rysen. Rysen. Rysen. Fuckin’ Rysen. I’m beginning to grow tired of the name. After… everything, I fully expected to shove off that particular shell of a man when I made my debut. I was apparently wrong. He keeps coming after me like a damn ghost. Ortega coming back into the mix certainly didn’t help, any chance of falling off the map died with her recognizing me in the diner. Oh well, I suppose, no plan survives first contact. I should really be surprised it didn’t all snag sooner. A lot sooner. Oh, but what a snag. That jawline, those lips, and gods above, those biceps.

She gives excellent hugs. Yep. That’s definitely what I like about them. The only thing.

          It was only recently that I realized a good memory I often draw upon—one of my few good memories—was that of Ortega kissing me after a particularly hard fight. She almost always initiated, and one time she even used her sparkles to shock my own lips ever so gently. I miss that sensation, funny enough, even if it was only the once. And, despite the fact that she always looked at me like I was fragile, she gave me this look like I was wanted. Like I belonged. Another thing I hate to admit, but I belong in her arms.

Fuck, what am I thinking? I shouldn’t allow myself to think like that, and yet such was the tendency of any good snag.

One other thing I hate to admit to myself—I love her. Son of a bitch, I always loved her, and I regret never telling her.

          I don’t think I could work up the courage to tell her though. Not then, not now, not ever. Aside from not being able to afford it, I don’t have the guts. Attacking a gala with some of Los Diablos’ richest and finest? No problem, just give me some time to plan. Facing a woman significantly larger than me on a date, looking at me with a sweetness in her eye? Nah nah nah nah nah. No way. Can’t do it. I’m weak, absolutely weak. Positively weak.

I hate myself.

          Julia doesn’t want me talking like that, she already made me promise to see a shrink, but she’s not here, inside my head walking down the street to get a cup of sweet, sweet addiction. She can’t dictate my self-talk. Except myself no one can. I doubt it will change any time soon, therapy or no. I hope the couch is comfy enough though. They always look comfy in the movies and on tv. Teary eyed tortured souls letting out their deepest secrets to some stranger taking notes on their entire life. Ew. Probably won’t tell them about the whole villain thing. I wouldn’t go at all and lie about it if I knew Julia would keep tabs on me and make sure I went. She’d probably drag me there herself. She always did care like that.

Oh well, she won’t leave me alone; but that’s a good thing, right? Because damn, what a kiss.

[yoiotdfics]

Fic Rec List July 2017

R & R (Risk and Ruination)

fishingclocks

Summary:

On the floor by Yuuri’s bed, there is a forlorn little beep, as Yuuri receives his fifteenth unanswered notification of the morning.

One of them from his fiance.

One of them reading ‘YUURI!! TAKE THE DAY OFF!!! YOU’VE BEEN WORKING HARD AND I LOVE YOU BYE’ followed by a copious amount of varying heart emojis.

Going ignored, the screen goes dark.

Of Office Blunders

BunniesofDoom

Summary:

Yuuri accidentally sends a picture to his boss that he really shouldn’t have sent. AU.

“OOC MY ASS!”

preciousbunnynoiz

Summary:

Yuuri secretly writes fanfiction, including Victor Nikiforov/Katsuki Yuuri fanfiction and some asshole keeps telling him he writes too OOC.

Yuuri hates him so much

I’m Pretty Much Fucked

monstersinthecosmos

Summary:

Quick drabble about getting ready to have company over. :)

If you can’t take the heat…

mtothedestiel

Summary:

Stay tuned, coming up next it’s Top Chef: International! Join thirteen chefs from around the globe as they battle it out for glory and prizes in the one and only New York City (and share all their innermost thoughts along the way!) Who will emerge victorious, and who will burn out?? Heartwarming triumphs, devastating eliminations, and even ~forbidden romance~ are all coming your way on this showstopping season of Top Chef!

To Worship and Be Worshipped

Unforth

Summary:

Tumblr ficlet written to the prompt: Yuuri as god/deity of some sort and Victor as a completely besotted worshipper

Déjà Vu

KasumiChou

Summary:

“Are you planning to sleep all day?”

A voice questioned with a soft chuckle. A chuckle that set his heart alight.

Victor lay there for a moment, a feeling of déjà vu overtaking him.

Warning: Major Character Death

Soul Loop

Cherry101

Summary:

It was almost funny, how easily it was to watch the day restart.

At this point… it was even common. Every few weeks, there would be a day that would repeat itself. Once, twice, three times, and then everything would go back to normal.

Otabek knew what it was, but he didn’t know what to do about it.

All The Beauties In His Hands

WinterSky101

Summary:

The wedding of Jean-Jacques Leroy and Isabella Yang is the wedding of the century.

Load Paper Tray 1

esutonia

Summary:

Perhaps, Victor realized, they were all gifted in their own ways. The way that Victor could charm the ancient, malfunctioning Xerox into producing perfect packets was perhaps the same way that Yuuri could print carts of brochures but not once refill the paper trays.

Soulmates/Office AU: Everyone has a little magic in them, but soulmates’ powers complete each other. Soulmates don’t know they’re meant for each other, until they figure out how their powers fit together. Victor and Yuuri work for the same company, and end up together with the help of a particularly old, obnoxious Xerox.

we have at least eleven minutes

spicyyuuri

Summary:

just a quickie between gala performances. no big deal, right?

nsfw victuuri week ♔ day two ♔ clothes

Ache

Val_Creative

Summary:

She misses everything about Minako. Hasetsu isn’t the same — too quiet, too empty of joy and laughter.

rouge my knees and roll my stockings down

alykapedia

Summary:

“It’s just that only whores wear the knot in front,” Yuuri says, stepping in close to breathe in Viktor’s intoxicating scent before peering up at him through lowered lashes and affecting an accent he’s heard during one of his and Phichit’s ill-advised jaunts to Covent Garden. “Did you want me to be your whore, milord?”

(Or: A morning well-spent with Lord Nikiforov and his expensive whore.)

At First Bite

opalish

Summary:

“Phichit,” Yuuri said slowly, noting that the hamsters currently had fangs. Tiny, needle-sharp fangs. “Did you name your hamsters Spikester, Hamsticula, and Edward Cullen II because they actually drink the blood of the innocent?”

“Oh, you caught that?” Phichit asked with a winning smile.

The Track

YuriPirozhki (AceOfSpace)

Summary:

JJ liked to think that one day, he could realise his goal of skating flawlessly to a program and song that he’d put together by himself. That would be the day when he’d be more than just Jean-Jacques Leroy, the son of ice dancing’s power couple. He’d be JJ Leroy: Record breaker, history maker, and one of a kind. He was convinced that his new guitar would help him to get there.

places to go, sights to see

Mayarene Rose (Paradise_of_Mary_Jane)

Summary:

This is what Yuuri knows: There is a giant green monster blob, a man with a blue box, and a planet called Barcelona. Also there’s time travel.

(“Time and Relative Dimension in Space,” the Doctor had proudly explained which made absolutely no sense. But then, nothing in the past hour had made any kind of sense so Yuuri’s willing to go with it.

It’s probably not a dream.  Probably.)

Boof? Boof.

JMonCheri

Summary:

Makkachin tells us on how Viktuuri sexy times go down.

WARNING: EXTREMELY explicit. Don’t read unless you want to nut your intestines out.

Soft Things

airspaniel

Summary:

Yuri dresses up, with a little help.

Always Looking Out for You

TripCreates

Summary:

Mari walks over to the closet to start getting things out. She reaches for a box up on a shelf and she begins to pull it toward her. Once it slides off the edge, some sheets of paper slip off the shelf from underneath the box and drift to the floor. Mari laughs as she sees the familiar Viktor posters land on the floor. “I was wondering where those went.”

~~~ Or Mari helps Yuuri pack up his room as he gets ready to move to St. Petersburg to be with Viktor.

love is blind(folded)

hamartiawrites

Summary:

It’s the day of Viktor and Yuuri’s wedding.

Everything looks perfect. The decorations are perfect, every single visitor looks stunning, and Phichit is certain Yuuri will look absolutely breathtaking when those big doors at the end of the hall open.

There’s just one problem, and unfortunately, it’s a big one.

The groom, Viktor Nikiforov? The five time world champion? The Living Legend? The most decorated men’s figure skater in history?

Yeah, he looks downright ridiculous.

(Or the time where Phichit thought Viktor wanted to hurt Yuuri when all Viktor wanted to do was hurt himself with Yuuri’s beauty.)

My Favorite Shape

thoughtsappear

Summary:

Isabella has never doubted Yuri Plisetsky’s animal magnetism.

Firebird

LavenderProse

Summary:

“It’s almost like a marriage proposal,” Viktoria says, and the thing is—the thing is, if Viktoria wanted it to be, Yuri would make it one. If Viktoria had asked, “Is that a marriage proposal?” Yuri would have unhesitatingly said yes. She would have lowered herself onto a knee before Viktoria in Fukuoka Airport, the officially certified least romantic place in the world, and said Viktoria Konstantinovna Nikiforova, please—please—

(Yuri doesn’t know if Viktoria will stay. She wants her to. She wants her to want to. But she doesn’t want to be the only thing holding Viktoria here. Life for Yuri Katsuki is, as always, Hard.)

Cherry

sophiahelix

Summary:

Now Mila turns to look at her, blue eyes open and bright. She offers the cigarette back, pinched between two fingertips lacquered red as her lips, and quirks a smile, sarcastic and knowing. “You mean you don’t support your brother no matter what?”

“Hmph,” Mari snorts, and takes the cigarette back.

Situation Status: Possibly Awesome

ineptshieldmaid

Summary:

It’s early in the season, his first year competing in the Grand Prix as a senior, and Kenji is in a Situation.

We’ll Always Have Paris

Teuthida

Summary:

Lilia recognized her, of course.

The Struggles of Living with Viktor Nikiforov

Minipandacakes

Summary:

Yuuri had imagined life with Viktor in St. Petersburg as being a perfect blur of snuggles and laughter and kisses. And while he was right, he wasn’t quite prepared for the frustration that comes right along with the happiness when you first make a home with your partner. This one-shot is made up of a trio of short stories I couldn’t resist writing out. Enjoy!~

Blades of a Ballet Dancer

Katrinova

Summary:

When word gets out that Yuuri helped create his record breaking routine Yuri On Ice, the world wants to know if he thinks he could do solo work. Yuuri says no, everyone else disagrees. Obviously, everyone else is a traitor.

Part of Yuuri Week 2017 Day 4- [Theme: On Ice]

Strut For Me

Katrinova

Summary:

“Darling, as your coach and choreographer it is also my job to make sure you get the exposure you deserve!” Or, there were aspects of being a world champion figure skater Yuuri was not prepared for. At all.

Part of Yuuri Week 2017 Day 5- [Theme: Eros]

Tweet tweet - Yuuri Week Day 7

hazelandglasz

Summary:

In which Yuuri should never be left alone with a full bottle of vodka and a fully charged phone

[Player] is Suffering From Thirst. [Player] is Well Again.

counterheist

Summary:

“Tell him you’re a blacksmith, Yuuri, tell him you’re good with your hands.”

“…but I’m not a blacksmith?” Phichit is a blacksmith. Yuuri used to make saddles and gaze longingly at daguerreotypes of men wearing the newest shirt collar designs. Now he gazes longingly at Russian immigrants. Maybe he’ll see Nikiforov wearing a new shirt at the next Fort. Maybe he’ll drown at a river crossing first.

Who’s to say?

Crop Top Distraction

nerdlife4eva

Summary:

When Yuuri, Phichit, Victor, and Yurio take a vacation to an all-inclusive resort, Victor’s and Yurio’s fans begin to monopolize their time. Even though Yuuri is understanding, he easily goes along with Phichit’s plan to regain Victor’s attention. These dorks fall in pools over each other. Yuuri is in a crop top, Phichit is in a crop top. Victor is lucky to be alive.

This is part of YuuriWeek and the amazing art is thanks to my insanely talented friend Magical-Mistral please go give this artist some love and watch for our future collabs!!

not in service

PuggleFiclets (Pugglemuggle)

Summary:

“You know what they say…” Yuri replies. “If you crack the ice once, you better be ready to shatter the whole motherfucking pond.” In a dictatorship dominated by the International Skating Union, Yuri was bound to end up in prison sooner or later. He isn’t planning to stay there, though. No—Yuri’s got bigger plans.

[imaginemedreamingstuff]

Special Agent - Special Love || Daniel Howell

A/N: this is a little bit unusual but I think it’s really intresting so intresting even that I’m considering to write more parts but only if you want that! this was again requested, big thank you for that! 

Word Count: 1.9K

POV: Reader

MASTERLIST // PART TWO // PART THREE // PART FOUR

“Agent Wolf, we need you to work together with Special Agent XY” The grand boss and organiser of our team explained to my dark haired colleague, speaking with a deep and powerful voice.  

“Why can’t I do it on my own?” Dan protested, visibly repelled by the idea of working with me.

“This task requires two people, if you can’t do that we will find an agent who will.” Our boss said sternly as he looked at him.

Howell and I had worked together before briefly in the past, but that was years ago when I had just started to work for the MI6.

Lets us just say that we didn’t get on very brilliantly and therefore also didn’t form the greatest team. We had one big mission during that time. We had to storm a building along with 10 other agents. Since I was a newbie Dan’s main job was to look after me, but I ended up saving his life by shooting a guy that stormed towards him from behind. Agent Wolf, the greatest man the MI6 could offer, was saved by a young woman, who was just a trainee. We barely spoke ever since, exchanged a few cold glances whenever we saw each other and had a few disputes during some briefings.

This was the first time that we had been teamed up after that incident. I had quickly gained a lot of approval and skill and without planning to I was suddenly the first person ever to become Special Agent in only three years.

“Your mission requires special outfits.” Our boss explained, making the two of us wonder what kind of extraordinary job we possibly could have been assigned to do.

When our equipment specialist walked into the room both of our mouth did indeed hang open in surprise. They were carrying elegant evening attire, a fancy but classic black suit and bow tie for Howell and a tight but long red dress for me.

“We smuggled you into the biggest event of the year, it’s a gala in the Royal Hall of London. Every influential person is going to be there, including our target Steven Hawkman. He is suspected to be a great threat to not only our whole country but also to other countries all over Europe.”

Dan and I sucked in every piece of information we were told, forgetting about the fancy clothing thing.

“You are going to go there as Mr and Mrs Goldsworthy, a young, married couple who has just made their first billion with their IT firm and who is also in direct line to the British throne.” Our boss kept explaining all the details we had to know in order to be authentic.

I shot Dan an awkward glance as soon as we were told that we are supposed to portray a couple. Howell faked an expression of disgust at the mention of it. I just shook my head in annoyance.

“During the Gala, there will be countless of times when Hawkman is not going to be in his special lounge. I want you to sneak in there and get us his phone.”

We both nodded to signal that we had understood, our faces full of determination.

“Now agents, you need to get dressed, our special team will also do your hair and makeup.”

“You’re gonna need a lot of makeup for her.” Dan joked mockingly, making me roll my eyes and hold back a remark on how childish he sounded.

“Can you do something about his terrible hair, it looks like a bird’s nest rather than a haircut?” I asked our styling team to tease him and judging by his facial expression it worked.

The tips of his ears had gotten red in anger but he didn’t have enough time for a mean comeback since we were both pulled in separate rooms in order to get ready for our mission.  

When I walked out of my “dressing room” Dan was already waiting for me. I could see his eyes widen as soon he saw me.

“Like what you see?” I asked him, with a light smirk on my face. The red dress fit almost like a second skin and hugged all of my curves perfectly.  

“N-no” he answered and swallowed hard. Howell tried to look at me derogatorily, but his red cheeks were prominent and everybody could see it.

He stared at the ground to avoid making eye contact or getting too distracted by my looks.

I had to admit he was pretty handsome as well. I would be lying if I tried to tell you that Dan isn’t attractive, I could never tell him that of course.

‘His hair is just so hot.  Oh god, I want to run my fingers through it’ ‘Wait Y/N- what the hell are you thinking about!’ I wanted to slap myself for having thoughts like this.

“Agent Wolf, Special Agent XY, are you ready?”

We both had to gather ourselves again before we shared a quick glance and nodded.  

“And remember, you are supposed the be a couple so act like one!” Our boss reminded us harshly, making my heart skip a beat and my palms sweaty.

We were driven to the gala in a fancy black limousine, throughout the whole ride we didn’t even speak once. Instead we avoided each other’s eyes but stole secret glances at the other from time to time.

‘You need to concentrate on the mission’ I scolded myself as I caught myself staring at how broad Dan’s shoulders looked in his black suit.  

Once the vehicle came to a halt I reached for the door, but Dan’s stern look made me stop in the middle of my tracks. He got out of the limousine himself and walked over to my side of the car to open the door for me. As he held out his hand for me to take I could hear him curse under his breath.

“Married to you. What a sick nightmare.” He mumbled but slung an arm around my back at the same time.

I could feel the warmth of his body incredibly close to mine as we walked into the building together.

“Mr and Mrs Goldsworthy” I told the security guard while Dan showed him our invitations to the event.

The man, who could have been hulks little brother, smiled at us before he let us in. Once we were inside I was overwhelmed by everything that was happening.

There was a huge dance floor, an orchestra and a band, a buffet that was approximately a kilometre long and waiters carrying champagne and prosecco.

A gigantic chandelier gave the whole hall a silvery sheen. There were hundreds of people sitting on round tables, standing or dancing. Each and every one of the guests showed off breath taking evening attire. It was a colourful whirl of ballgowns and black tuxedos.

I took Dan’s arm as we took a look around.

“Champagne for you?” A waiter asked us politely.

I smiled and nodded so Dan handed me a glass.

“Thank you, Darling.” I said earning a smile that almost looked painful from my co-worker.

We chatted a little bit while drinking the alcoholic beverage to not seem suspicious.

“All of this old geezers are staring at you.” Dan hissed almost angrily.

I turned my head to see that at least three very old but also very rich men kept gawking at my ass, making me almost groan in annoyance.

Dan seemed to be visibly disturbed by it as well and wrapped his arm tighter around me to protect me from their eager eyes.

“When did Agent Wolf become a gentleman?” I asked him and sounded almost like I was flirting, which I hadn’t intended. It just happened.

“Uh-“ He stuttered at first as his face grew a light shade of pink, but then he seemed to realise that we were supposed to hate each other. “I didn’t. It’s just part of the mission.” He grunted, making me roll my eyes.

As the first dance of the evening was announced we realized that this could be the perfect time to start our plan.

“Ready?” Dan whispered.

“Ready” I answered and we quickly but not suspiciously fast made our way up the stairs the box of Hawkman. Only very special guests were given theatre boxes at galas like this, luckily for us he barely used his.

We sneaked into the small room that was more like a balcony and immediately spotted his phone on the tiny table.

It was almost too easy.

Suddenly we heard footsteps coming closer. My heart started to beat immensely fast but my thoughts were still clear.

Once we realized that the person was indeed heading towards us we knew there was no escaping.

In the blink of an eye I went over all of the options we had left in my head and came to the conclusion that there was only one.

“Kiss me!” I whisper-yelled at Dan.

He stared at me as if I had completely lost my mind, while his eyes were almost falling out of their sockets.

“Wh-hat?” he stuttered in utter disbelief and his expression spoke of pure confusion.

“I said k- oh screw this.” I cussed as I threw my body onto his and connected our lips.

I couldn’t help but feel my heart jump in excitement and satisfaction as if it was shouting ‘Finally!’.

His lips were soft and pressed up against mine awkwardly at first, but as soon as he had recovered from his initial shock he started moving them against mine skilfully.

Somehow my hands found their way to his hair.

“Hands on my bum” I whispered in between kisses and although he still looked surprised he did what I told him.

One of his big hands traced down my back slowly until he reached my butt and squeezed it lightly. The other hands kept wandering over my cleavage, making me the surprised one.

We kept making out and at one point, I tell you, we had completely forgotten about the fact that we were agents of the MI6 and in the middle of an important mission.

When the door opened and revealed an armed security guard we almost didn’t hear him at first.

“What are doing- oh”

We immediately jumped apart from each other and acted shocked and embarrassed.

“Oh my god, we are so sorry.” I apologized and acted like I was hiding behind my ‘husband’ in shame.

Dan told the security guy our names and showed him our invites. Mr and Mrs Goldsworthy seemed to be two were influential and people because the man didn’t ask us any more questions.

“I’m sorry that I interrupted you, Mr and Mrs Goldsworthy. This is just the lounge of Mr Hawkman and it’s my job to keep an eye on it.

“That makes sense. We didn’t know that. Since it was empty we assumed it didn’t belong to anyone. It won’t happen again, Sir.” Dan explained before we said our goodbyes and he walked me out of the building.

“That was – “ I started.

“Hot” Dan breathed, his cheeks still red.

“Close” I finished the sentence at the same time as Dan.

He cleared his throat awkwardly “Close, yeah exactly what I said”.

“So do you got it?” Agent Wolf then asked me, returning to his old cold self.

“I became special agent for a reason.” I just said and showed him the phone in my purse...

[aceb133]

Star, Queen of Mewni: Part III

First Chapter Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Gonna try to get these out on a weekly basis from here on out, but we’ll see how that goes. Now, onto the story.

Towering above the northeastern reaches of Mewni, the Jaggy Mountains were a harsh, unrelenting place at the best of times. The air was thin here, and what little there was of it whipped and howled through the narrow passes and craggy rocks, biting savagely at any exposed or insufficiently covered skin. It was a brutal place, where few monsters, and even fewer Mewmans, dared to tread.

As the sun began to rise over the towering eastern peaks, slowly dripping light into the narrow valleys and through the branches of isolated pines, Grazgul Redclaw began to pace nervously. Tall, powerfully built, and covered in a long, thick fur cloak that hid an expansive hide of reflective green scales, Grazgul was not a monster accustomed to fear. But he couldn’t help but feel his twin hearts racing within his barrel chest, accompanied by a hideous sinking feeling that, of all his friends, of his family, he may have very well been the only one to have escaped from Butterfly Castle alive.

It was supposed to have been easy: Under the cover of the Queen’s birthday gala, several groups of monsters would infiltrate the castle, stealing corn and supplies that had been ‘lost’ by sympathetic Mewman guards and Monster staff, and stored in caches hidden throughout the castle. Grazgul and others had been suspicious of the supposed Mewman generosity from the start, but the opportunity had been too great to pass up-but instead of securing vitally needed supplies for the growing Monster Liberation Front, the guards had turned on them, slaughtering the surprised where they stood. The attack had been as sudden as it was brutal, and of the monsters in the group he had infiltrated the castle with, only Grazgul had escaped alive.

The claws at the end of Grazgul’s fingers dug into his palms as he balled his fists in rage at the still-fresh memory. When he and his brothers had conspired to join the newly formed Monster Liberation Front ten years ago, it had been in the spirit of youthful frustration rather than genuine rebellion. But in the years since, he’d turned increasingly bitter towards the Butterfly Kingdom, watching as the nobility constantly tried to weasel out of what few concessions they’d given Monsters in the Corn Redistribution Act and the New Monster-Mewman Accords. He’d watched as monsters had continued to starve as the Mewman nobility feasted and profited on year after year of record corn harvests. And yet, he’d allowed himself to believe that, perhaps, some Mewmans could be trusted to help them in their struggle-only to be rewarded with bloody betrayal.  

As Grazgul brooded, the sun continued to climb higher into the sky. As the hours passed, the unrelenting chill began to wear his resolve, and he wondered if he should give up begin the trek back to the Eagle’s Nest alone. But then, just as he’d given up hope, a dimensional portal tore itself open before him. Out of it stepped a half-dozen figures, each immediately shivering as they were blasted by the freezing air. To his immense relief, Grazgul immediately noticed that one of the monsters was his younger brother, Razgriz. Bounding forward, Grazgul wrapped his brother in a tight embrace.

“It is so good to see you, brother!” Grazgul said, holding Razgriz as tightly as he could. “I was beginning to worry I was the only one who escaped!”

Razgriz smiled. “It was not an easy thing. We fought off the Mewmans and escaped, but it took all night to evade their patrols on our way to the Spider’s Lair.”

“But then? Was the safehouse compromised?”

Razgriz shook his head. “You know these monsters as well as I do, brother. Each one would rather die than give up the Front to the Mewmans.” He glanced back at the rest of the group, but Grazgul did not follow his gaze. “There were merely… difficulties when we arrived, that took some time to sort out.”

“But what of you, brother!” the monster said, thumping Grazgul on the back. “When we met Stoneface at the Lair, he said you all had been killed!”

Grazgul stepped back and thumped his chest. “They tried, but no Mewman sword can penetrate my hide. I survived, if only just.”

Razgriz looked down, sadly. “But… not Misha, then.”

It felt as though an icepick had been driven into Grazgul’s heart. Solemly, he held his brother again.

“No,” Grazgul said, “Not Misha. We were separated in the initial fight. I tried to find him, but when I did, it… it was already too late.”

“They set us up!” one of the other monsters shouted, interrupting the brothers’ reunion. “The guards let us in jus’ so they could kill us, then blame us for whackin’ the Queen!”

Grazgul stepped back, the shock momentarily stunning him out of his grief. “What? You don’t mean that the queen….”

The monster, a small, rat-faced goblin who went by the name of Clam Johnson, nodded. “Ya know that explosion, the one right ‘fore the guards turned on us?  Blew Queen Butterfly sky high!.”

“She might be alive, though.” Razgriz cut in. “Stoneface said-“

“Stoneface is old and half-blind, ya really gonna believe him?” The goblin crossed his arms. “Monster’s so sentimental, I bet he made it up jus’ so he wouldn’t have ta face the fact Queen B got whacked.” He smiled. “He fought her in the old days, ya know. Used to say he bet he coulda taken her if she didn’t have that wand.”

Grazgul looked away from the conversation and stared out beyond the mountains, over the wide plains that swept across Mewni. Even from this great distance, the Butterfly Castle was still clearly visible on the horizon-an unescapable symbol of the dynasty’s power. For the past fifteen years, Star Butterfly had been the face of that power-and without her at the dynasty’s head, the future suddenly seemed much less clear.

Grazgul looked back at the assembled monsters. “So, IF the Queen is dead… who is in charge?”

Razgriz grimaced. “I do not know if it is true, but when we reached the safehouse, several monsters told us that Renwick has declared himself King, and his wife queen.”

Grazgul snarled. He knew Renwick-every monster did. In the old days, he’d often led “Security patrols” into monster territory, hunting monsters for sport and burning entire villages. It had brazenly violated what few protections there were in the Monster-Mewman Accords, but Renwick hadn’t cared, until he’d finally been censured by Queen Moon Butterfly.

As to his wife, Grazgul didn’t know anything about her-but judging by the fact she’d married Renwick, he doubted she was much better.

Sighing, Grazgul patted his brother on the back and looked around, facing the long and winding mountain trail before them. “If this is true, we must hurry. News travels quickly, but if the boss has not already heard of this development, we must inform him at once.”

Razgriz nodded, and began to trudge forward. Silently, the other monsters began to follow, forming a ragged line of shivering beasts. To his surprise, he saw Mikhail Bulgolyubov at the end of the line, and began walking over to him.

“Chef Frog, it is strange to see you here.” Grazgul said, curious. “I don’t recall you having authorization to come to the Eagle’s Nest. Why are you…”

He stopped as he saw the figure behind Bulgolyubov. Standing in the ankle-deep snow, teeth chattering in the cold, and clutching the thin remains of her evening dress for warmth, was the heir to the throne of Mewni, Princess Constellation Butterfly.

She looked up at Grazgul and smiled nervously.

Incredulously, Grazgul looked back at the rest of the monsters, and then back to Connie. Several of the monsters, including Razgriz, had stopped and were glancing at each other nervously.

“What is…” Grazgul started, “Why… how…”

“She found us, before the Mewmans attacked.” Bulgolyubov said. “She helped defend us, and let us escape.”

“It’s true, brother.” Razgriz said. “Had she not been there, I don’t know if we would have been able to hold them off. Not to mention, they attacked her as well.”

“Even so, you would take the heir of the Butterfly throne here? To the Eagle’s Nest?” Grazgul threw out his arms. “Brother, have you lost your senses? Do you realize what this means?”

He pointed out to the Butterfly castle in the distance. “Renwick will be looking for her! Queen Butterfly, if she lives, will be looking for her! And if they find us, everything we have worked for will be destroyed!”

Grazgul looked on at the other monsters, who shuffled uncomfortably under his gaze. The wind had begun to pick up, and for a brief while there was no sound on the mountain but the air howling around them.

Finally, it was the young Princess Butterfly who broke the silence. “You are…” she said nervously, “Very hard to find. A-and,” she continued, her teeth chattering in the cold, “If they do find us, I’m not going to… umm…”

The sight of the freezing girl stuttering in the snow cooled slowly cooled Grazgul’s rage, and he sighed. Slipping off his thick cloak, he instinctively recoiled at the shock of the freezing wind against his bare scales. Shaking it off, he tossed the cloak at the princess, who, surprised, nearly dropped it in the snow.

“Wrap yourself, Butterfly, it is cold up here.” Grazgul said. “We will take you to our leader, and I shall let him decide your fate. Is that acceptable to you?”

Princess Constellation, still holding the heavy fur cloak in her hands, nodded. Quickly, she wrapped herself, and practically disappeared under the thick furs. Grazgul had to stifle the urge to laugh-though the princess was not a terribly a small girl, the image of her struggling under the garment sewn for Grazgul’s massive frame was a mirthful sight to see.

Once again, the assembled monsters began trudging up the mountain trail. Narrow, winding, and dangerous, the trail was little more than a rocky, ice-covered path that cut through gorges and along sheer cliff faces. Fortunately, though dangerous, the path was not particularly difficult-so long as one closely watched their step.

As the group walked down the path, Grazgul made sure to keep close to Bulgolyubov and Princess Butterfly. He wasn’t surprised the frog had taken a protective stance towards the Princess-after all, his family had always been far too close to the Butterflies for Grazgul’s taste. What surprised him was the Princess. Grazgul had a very firm picture in his mind of the typical royal-soft in mind and body, so far removed from the rigors of the life of the average peasant or monster that they’d be useless outside of their castles and keeps. From the looks of it, Princess Butterfly was certainly soft in body, but there was a sharpness to her eyes, and tightness to her pursed lips that suggested a hardness he had not expected-especially given her reputation.

As the party passed by a sheer rock face that towered for hundreds of feet above them, Princess Butterfly finally broke the silence. “So,” she said, barely audible over the roaring wind, “Who are you?”

“Who I am is not-“

“That’s Grazgul Redclaw, toughest monster this side o’ the Forest o’ Certain Death,” Clam Johnson shouted. “’im and ‘is brothers been with the Front for what, eight years now?”

“Ten.” Razgriz shouted proudly from the front of the party. “Only the Boss and the Chosen have fought longer than us.”

“The Front?” Princess Butterfly said. “You mean the MLF? I think my mom told me about you guys, aren’t you… uh…”

Grazgul looked at Princess Butterfly, bemused. “The…?”

“Well, uh, my mom called you poopheads, though I think she may have said something stronger when I wasn’t in the room.”

Grazgul and the rest of the monsters laughed uproariously. “And so we learn the judgement of the mighty Star Butterfly!” Razgriz chortled, “We are poopheads, all!”

“Tell us, Princess, what else did your mother declare us to be?” Grazgul said. “Dingbats? Losers? Perhaps something more profane?”

“She, uh, didn’t really like talking to me about you guys.” Princess Butterfly said. “She…”

Grazgul could see tears beginning to well in the girl’s eyes. In spite of himself, Grazgul was overcome with pity, and laid a hand on her shoulder. To his surprise, the girl instantly wrapped around him, sobbing.

“There, there.” Grazgul said awkwardly. “Do not worry, Princess. If there is one thing that we monsters have always known about your mother, she is tenacious. Whatever happened at the castle, I am sure your mother survived it.”

“Bbbbut I saw… they said…”

Grazgul awkwardly leaned over and gave Princess Butterfly a hug. “If she has passed, she will live on in your memories.” He said, his own emotions beginning to overcome him, “Just as Misha does for-“

Then, before he could finish, he felt the rock beneath his feet begin to crumble. Instinctively, Grazgul pushed the Princess away, back towards the rock face and towards Bulgolyubov. Then, the ice and the rock gave way, and before he could react any further Grazgul felt himself slipping and falling. As he began to slide, he tried to grab something, anything, that would keep him on the mountain-but it was no use. His hands were numb from the cold, and the rock slippery with ice. Within seconds, the eyes of Princess Butterfly and his fellow monsters disappeared past the cliff edge, and Grazgul began falling freely, the wind howling in his ears as his helpless body tumbled through the air.

As he fell, Grazgul merely looked up at the brilliant blue sky, images of his brother Misha flashing through his brain. In this brief moment, there was no fear.

I suppose, brother, he thought, we shall meet sooner than I’d-

Then, he stopped falling.

Shocked, Grazgul looked around and saw himself surrounded by a pulsating pink glow. Then, without warning, he was slowly lifted up, rising back above the lip of the cliff. He could see his fellow monster watching, bug-eyed, as Princess Constellation tightly gripped her magic wand and directed Grazgul back onto stable ground.

At once, the spell was broken, and Grazgul fell to the earth. Fortunately, though he landed roughly, he did not slip-and, breathing heavily, he took a moment to close his eyes and process the events of the past thirty seconds. When he opened them, he saw Princess Butterfly staring at him, then to her wand, and back, looking almost as shocked as he felt.

Not knowing how to respond, Grazgul extended his arm and patted the Princess on the shoulder. Then, he walked past the rest of the monsters, past the teary-eyed Razgriz, and began marching forward, desperately trying not to think about how his life had just been saved by the heir to the Butterfly throne.

----------

By the time they reached the Eagle’s Nest, the sun was already high in the sky. Connie, for her part, was utterly exhausted, both from the arduous hike and the previous night’s events as well as from carrying the giant lizard-man’s cloak. She was thankful for the protection, however-without the thick layers of fur surrounding her, she was sure she would have frozen to death on the cold mountain slopes.

The entrance to the Eagle’s Nest, as it turned out, was a narrow opening in the rock face barely visible from the outside. Slipping in through the narrow crevasse behind Chef Frog, Connie was suddenly overcome by a rush of warm air. The small, narrow cavern was hardly warm, but it was a welcome relief compared to the frigid temperatures outside.

The journey wasn’t over yet, however, Hunching over to avoid hitting his head against the low ceiling, the giant lizard-man continued to lead the party forth, navigating by memory and feel as the light turned to shadow beyond the path’s  first turn. Before long, the light had vanished completely-and the only thing keeping Connie on the path was the dim outline of Chef Frog in front of her.

Suddenly, the group stopped, and Connie nearly collided with the monster in front of her. Other than some mutterings from Grazgul, there was nothing-no sound, and no light.

For a second, Connie wondered if she should run away. She trusted Chef Frog-at least, she thought she did-but she didn’t know any of the other monsters.

Well, she thought, that wasn’t quite true-she did know they were members of the MLF, the Monster Liberation Front, but if anything that made it worse. She’d been truthful when she’d said her mother didn’t like discussing them, but Connie was well aware as to why-they were considered an extremely dangerous radical group, one whose actions threatened to derail the extremely fragile peace between Monsters and Mewmans.

But, even though Connie was sure she’d be able to slip away unnoticed in the sheer darkness… she remained where she was. After all, where would she go? Even if she could escape the dark cavern, and even if she could make her way down the cold mountain… if Uncle Renwick really had declared himself King, she doubted he would accept her back into the castle with open arms.

The image of Sir Ernest charging her, sword drawn, flashed through Connie’s mind, and she shuddered. As ludicrous as it sounded, and as insane as it felt, Connie was sure the safest place was here. With the radical monster separatists.

Connie was suddenly taken out of her thoughts as a loud, echoed CLICK reverberated through the cavern. A second later, the dark space was filled with light as a door opened out of a rock wall before them, pushed open by a hunched, hooded figure.

“Come inside, quickly!” the figure beckoned. Connie didn’t hesitate, and followed the rest of the monsters as closely as she could. The hooded figure barely gave her a second glance as she rushed past him, and quickly pulled the door closed behind them.

Connie looked around, her eyes slowly adjusting to the light. Though they were ostensibly still deep in the mountain, the cavern had been carved out to create the appearance of a brick passageway, approximately fifteen feet wide and lined with blazing torches. All along the walls were elaborate carvings of monsters and mewmans, many captioned in a strange language she couldn’t read.

“You are late.” the hooded figure said, speaking in a low, gravelly voice. “We have already heard reports that the mission went… poorly.”

Grazgul nodded. “It is true. The Mewmans double-crossed us, and killed many of our best monsters. We alone were able to escape.”

“Treachery of some sort was not unexpected.” The hooded figure said. “Hopefully you will reflect on this the next time you support an operation that hinges on the charity of Mewmans, Grazgul.”

Slowly, the lizard-man nodded. The hooded figure then turned to Connie, and she felt a sudden chill.

“As for our guest… the Boss has been informed, and has requested an... audience. You, Princess, shall come with me.”

Chef Frog stepped forward. “I shall go with you, Princess.”

“No you shall not.” The hooded figure said harshly. “The Boss wishes to see the Princess, and the Princess alone.

“But do not worry, Bulgolyubov,” The figure continued, “The Boss will be meeting with you later to discuss your failures personally.”

Chef Frog croaked.

“Now come, Princess. The Boss is not a patient monster, and neither am I.”

Nervously, Connie turned back to the assembled monsters, and gulped. Taking the fur cloak off her shoulders, she walked over and handed it back to Grazgul, who accepted it wordlessly. Then, she turned and followed the hooded figure, who had already started down the torchlit passageway.

Keeping up wasn’t easy. The hooded figure moved at its own pace, paying little heed to Connie as it glided through the twists and turns of the underground structure. For her part, Connie was barely able to keep the figure in her sights, often seeing little more than a glimpse of the figure’s tattered cloth disappearing around the next corner. Finally, however, the figure came to a stop, standing just outside a large, stone door.

“These are the boss’s chambers,” it rasped. “You will meet him in here.”

It took a moment for Connie to respond as the gasped for air. “You’re not coming in?”

“It is not my place.” With that declaration, the hooded figure departed, leaving Connie alone.

She looked up at the door. It was a massive slab of granite, covered in worn and faded carvings, centered around a massive fleur de lis, with no visible knob or handhold. Nervously, Connie reached forward and gave the door a gentle push-and slowly, but smoothly, the granite swung aside.

Stepping through the portal, Connie found herself in a large, dimly lit room. At first glance, it appeared as though every available surface was covered in papers and books, with multiple tables and shelves stacked in front of each other to provide additional space. Along the walls hung a half-dozen maps, several of which Connie recognized as being of the Butterfly Kingdom, and others of places she’d never even heard of.

As she made her way deeper into the room, her heart began to palpitate. Was this some kind of game? A trap? Where was-

“Princess Constellation Butterfly, I presume.”

Connie spun on her heels and instinctively raised her wand, her heart pounding in her chest. A second later, she lowered it as she saw who had addressed her. Out of the darkness, an old, bird-like creature was slowly hobbling towards her, eyeing her with a strange curiosity. Notably, one of the creature’s eyes was covered in a large eyepatch, and its right arm ended in a short stump just below the shoulder.

Connie stepped back, instinctively clutching her wand closer to her chest. Years of proper etiquette training instinctively ran through her head, but Connie instantly disregarded all of it. Now hardly seemed like the time for a curtsey. “Are… you the boss?”

The creature glared at her for a moment, and looked her up and down. “Rather forward for royalty, aren’t you? Not even a curtsey or a proper introduction?”

Connie bit her lip. “Well-“

“In any case, you’d be right,” the creature said, and hobbled over to a chair. “This is my hideout. These are my monsters. This-“ he gestured a tattered red flag in the corner, the symbol of the MLF-“is what I have built. That makes me, the boss.”

Grunting with the effort, the monster climbed into a chair, and sat down facing Connie. His one eye met her two, and she felt as though he was staring right through her.

“So, Princess,” the monster said, “What brings you to my keep?”

The question was obvious, yet Connie felt floored by it. From the moment she’d witnessed the attack on the castle, she’d been running on a combination of fear and adrenaline, and had actively avoided even thinking about what had happened.  For a moment, all she could do was stand and stare stupidly at the odd creature in front of her, who merely stared at her with a mildly annoyed expression.

“I was...” Connie started, and stopped. “My mother-“

“She’s not dead, if that’s what you think.” The creature said.

A mix of confusion, relief, and disbelief washed over Connie. “But, I saw-“

“Did you see a body?” the creature asked, in a condescending tone that seemed to question Connie’s intelligence.

“No, but”

The creature laughed-a high pitched sound that was half a screech, and half a rasp. “If anyone knows your mother-and may I just say I have the displeasure of knowing her better than most-than they’d know Star Butterfly wouldn’t be killed by such an amateurish attempt. Of that, my girl, you have my word.”

He leaned forward. “So tell me, why are you here.”

It felt less like a question, and more like an accusation. “I… I was running.” Connie said. “I was running, and I found Chef Frog, and then the guards attacked, and I… I fought back, and I ran away, with your monsters.”

The creature remained silent, so Connie felt forced to continue. “And my mother was… I thought she was…” Connie took a deep breath to calm herself down. “I thought my mother was dead, and… I didn’t want to be in the castle anymore. And when the guards attacked the monsters… I had to stop them!  And then afterwards, there was… there was just nowhere else to go.”

The creature listened intently, studying Connie’s face. He then leaned back in his chair, tapping the fingers of his remaining hand against the armrest. “I see.”

There was an awkward silence, in which Connie felt as though the monster was somehow judging her. “But…” Connie said, “You said my mother’s alive? Really?” For the first time, there was an air of hope in her voice.

The creature nodded. “Royal gossip travels fast on Mewni… if it is inaccurate at times. I’ve already heard three different stories, and that was from the same two-headed monster. Your mother, I am sure, is alive, though apparently she has abandoned the castle for now, leaving your hideous aunt and uncle in charge.”

“But,” the monster said, raising his one visible eye, “Even if she were there, would you really want to go back?”

“What? Yes, of course!” Connie said, her eyes welling with tears. “I thought she was dead!”

“But why go back to the castle? Don’t think even we haven’t heard the whispers, the rumors.” The creature threw up his arm, and began talking in a screeching sing-song voice. “Constellation, the Princess who can’t do magic. The defective Butterfly. Oh, how could it be, that Star Butterfly’s daughter could be so worthless? Maybe it’s because she’s the daughter of a queen without a king! Maybe-!”

“That’s enough!” Connie shouted.  Her wand crackled with green energy, and the Boss grinned.

“But you and I both know that’s not true.” He said, eyeing the wand. “You can feel the power within you, can’t you? Just waiting to be channeled? You just can’t… find the words.”

Connie stared at him. “How did you…”

“There are not many people who have experience with such magic.” The Boss said. “I suppose your mother, she’s too busy, too impatient to truly help you? After all, everything comes naturally to Star Butterfly, why wouldn’t it come naturally to her daughter? And your other teachers, if you have any, oh well I’m sure they’re no help at all.

“So tell me,” the Boss said, “Are you really in such a hurry to return to the castle so soon? To the backtalk, the judgement? The treachery of the nobility, the sworn protectors who would stab you in the back?

“I could teach you, you know. Teach you like nobody else could. Better than your mother, even. Only through me, could you truly understand the power of the wand.”

Connie stared, her mind not fully comprehending the insane offer. “But, my mother-“

“Oh, psh.” The Boss threw up his hand. “Star Butterfly can take care of herself. She’s not the important one in this discussion. Frankly, you could leave this room and go find her yourself if you wanted, I really don’t care.”

He grinned, and leaned forward in his chair. “Or, you can stay here, and I can teach you things about magic even your mother doesn’t know.”

Nervously, Connie looked down at her wand. Ever since she’d received it, she had wanted desperately to wield it as effectively as Star Butterfly had, to be someone that her mother could truly take pride in. And in all the time she’d had it, she’d failed, and had suffered shame after shame because of it.

And now, here was the answer, staring her right in the face.

She tightened her grip on her wand, and bit her lip, caught in a moment of indecision. “I… I need to think about this. I can’t just-“

The Boss sneered. “Do you want to learn magic, or don’t you? Always hesitating, always running away. You ran from the castle, and if you step out that door you know you’d just run away again. I bet you’d even run away from that wand if you thought you could get away from it.”

Another rush of anger flared in Connie’s mind. There was a part of her that was screaming at her to run, to escape from this place, to find her mother. But that part felt distant, obscured by the haze of exhaustion and emotion that had been slowly building up since the previous night. Instead, what she felt most was the longing-the longing of finally proving she had what it took to become what everyone so desperately wanted her to be.

Hesitantly, Connie held out her hand. The Boss looked at it, grinned, and met it with his own. His skin was cold and rough to the touch, and Connie nearly pulled away reflexively. In that moment, she felt as though she’d made a terrible mistake-but it was already too late.

“Excellent.” The Boss said, releasing her hand. “Now get out of here, I’ll send someone when I’m ready for your first lesson.”

Slowly, Connie stepped back, and walked slowly over to the door. The Boss had already begun ignoring her, turning to a thick stack of papers emblazoned with the Butterfly family crest.

As she reached the door, a pair of questions rose to the top of her mind. “Uh… Boss…”

She internally recoiled at calling the disdainful monster before her “Boss”, but he looked up all the same. “What is it? Didn’t I tell you to leave?”

“Where will I be staying?”

The Boss looked at her like she was stupid. “Why should I care? Go find an empty room, or kick somebody out, or something.”

Connie bit her lip again. Even though she’d just agreed to learn magic from the boss, she already wanted to get as far away from him as possible. In the moment, it took all of her restraint to simply not run out the door that instant.

But she needed to know.

“Boss… sir… who are you?”

The creature laughed. “Oh Princess, surely your mother’s told you about me?”

Ludo smiled. “You already know who I am.” Next Chapter

[reborn-imagines-redux]

Romance me with these films: Breakfast at Tiffanys, Roman Holiday, Sabrina, Casablanca, Cleopatra and Gone with the Wind whoops that six ahahaha hope you like the idea Admin ✌🏾

These are examples of how the requests I get will be answered.  

As stated before, this is a request I’ve had for awhile from the original anon with the idea, this is the only one that’s going to have more than 3 films included in the ask.  

Breakfast At Tiffany’s

you had always thought that your neighbor was doing something slightly illegal of the “sexual” variety, in his apartment next to yours

and really, what else were you supposed to think? there were always shady looking people, who were dressed to the T’s going into his apartment, and his own stuff was just a little too nice for someone who was living in the apartment building

but you didn’t really care, just so long as he kept the noise down (and he did, you never heard anything) you weren’t going to judge…sometimes people ran into trouble - you did what you had to do to survive

the idea of it being the mafia didn’t even cross your mind - this wasn’t the 60′s anymore, geez

it still didn’t cross your mind until he asked you if you were interested in some community service

you said absolutely not, until he explained that he actually meant community service and not community service

then you said yes, because you figured it could be worse and you had some time to give back

somehow you end up visiting prisoners - the non-violent kind, obviously, just some guys involved in fraud or embezzlement or some scheme

it was right about then that you found out that your neighbor was not in fact a male prostitute and was actually a mafia boss

and that the shady people were informants and his “family” members

and the embezzlers that you were talking to were also his “family” members

and that you were actually an accomplice to crime right there….

from there there was actually only the choice to join his “family” and let him take care of you

the fact that he was really stinking cute was just an added bonus, promise

Roman Holiday

Enma was rather unsure how he got in this position, he remembered being grabbed and pulled out of the gala after bumping into someone in one of the back halls of the Vongola.  After that, it was a bit of a blur.

There was the realization that you were not in fact a serious kidnapper, rather, the younger child of the influential American boss, who had been rather protected to later be utilized in a political marriage.  And that instead of being kidnapped, he had stumbled across your escape attempt.  And so your plans had changed, and now he was half way across town in a seedy motel, after an even seedier bar.

“Very unusual.  I’ve never been alone with a man before, even with my dress on.  With my dress off, it’s most unusual.” With a sinking feeling, Enma turned from where he was checking out the windows to test for security (sadly lacking) to see you struggling out of your evening wear.  

“Um, maybe you should…not.”  Enma finished lamely, trying to keep his eyes fixed on your face or any other part of the room, except where you were currently undressing.  His plans changed as he had to rush over to keep you from faceplanting after tripping on your train.  

“Relax,” you giggled.  “It will be fine.  Just don’t let my father find out.”  Without that, you slipped out of the dress to collapse on the bed, completely unconscious.

Enma was now faced with a moral dilemma.  He should call your father, he really should.  But if he did that, he’d have to explain to the man that he was involved.  That he was alone in a very cheap motel room with you passed out, almost naked on the bed.  And it wasn’t like he could call your father and leave, there was no way of telling what would happen in between then and your father showing up.

With a sigh, Enma slipped his phone back in his pocket and grabbed one of the blankets to take with him to the chair.  This was not going to be fun to explain in the morning.  

The line in italics has been taken from the movie.  (Along with the idea of the “runaway” princess (in this case, heiress)

Sabrina

you end up being in on the mafia “game” mainly because you move in right next door to Tsuna during high school

growing up, you were always a rather large fan of Yamamoto 

really, he wasn’t a large fan of Yamamoto - he was cute, talented, friendly

still, though Yamamoto was friendly to you, you basically saw that you weren’t ever going to be more than friends, he just didn’t notice you

you leave for college, going to school in America - learning talents that you know will help you in the mafia, and maybe end up impressing Yamamoto that way

and when you come back, it works and you do impress Yamamoto and he finally notices you - but because of your particular skill set, you end up working more closely with Gokudera

who was always fairly nice to you - but let’s face it, he’s definitely no Yamamoto

until one day, you’re at a party, escorted by Yamamoto and you realize that this is not meshing up with your dreams - yes, Yamamoto’s by your side, but it’s wrong, the things he’s talking about, the people he’s talking to, these aren’t your things

after that night, you and Yamamoto call it quits, but still remain close friends - after all, the relationship hadn’t lasted a while and both of you basically realized that the other wasn’t your “forever person”

Yamamoto is the one who pushes Gokudera to talk to you - because he’s hung out around both of you enough and is observant enough at this age to realize what neither of you could

you and Gokudera end up fighting over who he’s going to be in the wedding, you want Yamamoto for your “Man of Honor ;)”; Gokudera wants him as a groomsman

Casablanca

Tsuna had always loved you - he had met you during a hard time in his life and you had been right there, seemingly able to understand the same pain and so able to help him through it

and then one day you disappear never to be seen from again - he doesn’t understand, the relationship had been serious, he was about to ask you to marry him, and so he’s left with regret 

he moves on leaving you in his past as best he can

seeing you at that Gala, hanging on the arm of a boss who he was about to enter talks about an ally, blindsides him and he can barely make it out of the room before he’s punching a wall 

you follow him, of course you do, he just can’t seem to catch a break

he’s just about to tell you get out of his mansion, to take your escort and never come back if you want your partner’s family to survive

you cut him off with an explanation - he had sworn to himself that excuses wouldn’t work on him, but even he isn’t hard hearted enough to ignore this one

you had been married to this man for far longer than Tsuna and you had been involved - a coup had left your family reeling and you believing your husband had been assinated

and that night he was going to propose, the night you had left was the night you had found out that your husband had survived and gone back to him

and faced with that, there’s nothing Tsuna can do but force a smile and congratulate you, nothing he can do but deifnitely enter the partnership with your family

nothing he can do but fake a smile every time he sees you after that, always on the arm of the man who had you first

Cleopatra

“You dare ask me to kneel.”  Byakuran stared at where you were sitting at the end of the main hall of your mansion.  His men behind him shifted, irritated by the command.  

“I asked it of the Vongola Decimo.  I demand it of you.”  You stared haughtily down your nose at him, unimpressed by his own title, he knew.  You obviously weren’t one of the few granted memories of the future arc where he had almost succeeded in taking over all the known universes.

Still, he lowered himself with a cocky smile, making it clear that he had done it through his own volition.  He remembered you in that future - and honestly, every other timeline he had encountered you in, some things would never change - as every inch a queen as you were here.  You hadn’t bowed to him in the beginning either.  He had known then that if anyone was equal to stand next to him, it would be you.  

“Of course,” he lowered his head.  “I will offer the respect required in your own home.”  He remembered the pleasure he had taken in showing you his full power in the alternate timeline.  

“However, I fully expect the same courtesy to be returned when you come to my home.”  He had brought you your knees in the other world.

“And when would I ever be in your home?”  He would do it again in this one. 

The line has been altered from “I asked it of Julius Caesar.  I demand it of you.” to “I asked it of the Vongola Decimo.  I demand it of you” for obvious reasons

Gone With the Wind 

You had come to him when you had nothing, only able to pledge your allegiance and your loyalty to him.  Your family lay in ruins, and there was no where else to turn.  But you knew that you could survive, you were good at what you did.  

“And what does the Varia need with a femme fatale?  We don’t need to seduce secrets out of people, we just go in and take what we want.  We have a mist if we need it.”  Xanxus had stared down at you, no hint of what he was thinking in that fiery gaze.

You refused to be intimidated, you had gone through too much, survived too much to give up now.  “And will that always be the case?  What happens when you run into someone who can see through your illusions?  What happens when you are called upon for information from someone who can withstand your torture.  The world constantly changes to overcome the best techniques.  But there will always be one thing that humans can’t resist.”  

“Let me guess, sex.”  Xanxus sounded unimpressed.

You shrugged.  “Or the illusion of it, the prompt of it.  I’m flexible.”

“I bet you are.”  Xanxus considered the options.  There was a certain amount of truth to what you had said.  If there was one thing that he could count on, was that even in the mafia, a good figure could open most doors.  And damn, you had a good figure.  “Fine, you’re in.  A trial basis only for right now.  We’ll talk later.”

Because it’s not super clear here,what’s taken from the movie is you (Scarlett) going to Xanxus (Rhett) when she needs help (in this case, protection/money/etc) and be willing to use her “feminine wiles” so to speak, to get what she wants.   

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

The Nuptial Necessity - Chapter 14

A 12xRose Human AU

Despite an unglamorous job description, Rose loves the work she does with The Thistle Foundation, a charity founded by her best friend’s great-uncle.  It doesn’t hurt that her boss, her friend’s father, is easy on the eyes.  With a great job, wonderful friends and a loving family, life couldn’t be better – except for having someone to share it with.

All of that is threatened, though, when the great-uncle dies – and sets a strange condition for his nephew to inherit, jeopardizing the Foundation and Rose’s future, sparking a chain of events that might just get her everything she dreamed of and more.

Chapters will be posted on Saturdays and Tuesdays.  Many thanks to my beta, @stupidsatsuma

Rated: Explicit, for eventual smut

@doctorroseprompts

AO3  |  Masterlist

—

Friday - the wedding, pt. 2 / 2

Breathing deeply, Rose let out a sigh of contentment.  The ceremony had gone off without a hitch, the luncheon had been wonderful, and now she was on the dancefloor, swaying in Malcolm’s arms.  Her head nestled against his shoulder, body flush to his as they moved, was her idea of heaven.

It was why the Gala was her favorite night of the year, more than her birthday or Christmas, New Year’s, or any other bank holiday.  The opportunity to be so close to him, to breathe in his scent, to have him hold her closer – they always danced together for several slow songs.  The first was often spent whispering about how the event was going, the second was for sharing any juicy gossip, and the rest…  She liked to think the rest were just because he wanted to hold her as much as she wanted to be in his arms.  It was silly, bordering on deluded, but- she was in love.

And he wouldn’t hold her like this if he didn’t want to.

“You look beautiful,” Malcolm murmured out of the blue, grip tightening on her slightly as the song changed.  Other couples joined the floor, but Rose paid them no attention, trusting him to keep them from crashing into others.

“Thank you.”  Opening her eyes she glanced up at him, gaze tracing along the line of his jaw.  It was only mid-afternoon but his five o’clock shadow was already strong, and it wasn’t just the champagne that wondered what that would feel like against her bare skin.  “You look handsome yourself. I expected your tux, but this is actually better.”

He was dressed in a morning suit, including a waistcoat, looking very dapper and dashing.  The accent colors even matched the light shade of blue and cream she’d chosen for their colors.

“A tux?”  Malcolm sniffed, affecting a haughty tone.  “During the day?  What am I, a savage?”

Rose laughed, and his mock-disgusted expression melted into a grin.

“No, this was more appropriate.  Besides, I’ll be wearing the tux next weekend, for the Gala.  And if I do say so myself, I look particularly debonair in it, and I didn’t want to take the chance of upstaging the bride.”

“Oh, I get it,” she beamed up at him.  “I’ll be much more dressed up for that as well.”

“As you should – you’re a proper Lady now, Viscountess.”  His thumb began a gentle back and forth motion along her spine, and even though the thick material of her dress separated him from her skin, it was intoxicating.

“Noted,” was all she could manage, breathless, and his crystal blue eyes darkened a bit in response; they even flickered down to her mouth, and for one wild moment she thought (hoped, prayed) he was about to kiss her again.  When he had, at the officiant’s direction, her knees had gone weak and she would’ve sunk to the ground if he hadn’t been holding her up.  It had been dream-like, and all she wanted was for him to do it again, longer this time, deeper, and most importantly, because he wanted to.  She was equal parts pleased and disappointed that no one had yet clinked their glasses to make them kiss; while she would like the excuse, the idea hurt too much, of him doing it only because it was expected.

“Rose?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I tempt you to another slice of cake and glass of bubbly?”

She waited a beat before opening her eyes, hoping the disappointment wouldn’t slow.  “Yeah, course.”

Malcolm led her to their seats; at some point between her visit that morning and the ceremony someone had decided to space out the tables along the wall so they wouldn’t have to go all the way around behind people, and Rose didn’t care whose idea it was- she was just grateful.

“Thank you, my Lord,” she teased him as they settled into their seats, grinning at him.  “Too kind.”

Their glasses had been refilled while on the dance floor, but Malcolm gestured to their server to bring them cake before lifting his flute, Rose copying him half a second behind.

“I propose a toast,” her new husband said, sending a thrill through her.  “To you.  For being the wonderful, selfless human being you are.  Your kind heart and generous spirit constantly amaze me.  And… if I may, for a moment, be selfish, I am very much looking forward to spending more time with you for the foreseeable future.”

Rose smiled, cheeks turning pink.  “Thank you.  And to you, for… for being a good man, kind, trustworthy…  I agreed to this because you are you.  I wouldn’t have done this for… anyone else, basically.”  She pretended to think about it for a moment.  “Maybe Chris Hemsworth.  Or that bloke that plays that detective on that show I like.  But no one else.”  Her smile faded, and she added softly, with a bit too much emotion in her voice, “Just you.”

She met his eye, and slowly, his expression changed, grew more thoughtful and curious and just a touch hopeful.

“Rose-”

-

He knew, rationally, that she didn’t mean it the way it sounded.  It had been an emotionally charged day, the free-flowing champagne only complicating matters.  But his treacherous heart refused to hear it, trying to beat its way out his chest and across the small space to hers, to be forever entwined as they had promised to do in their vows.  He wanted that, a life with her for real, so terribly, and all of this was just a tease, an offer that would never pan out.

And then she looked at him that way, all doe eyes and earnest expression, like he was the only one in the world, the only person she could see, that they were alone in a roomful of people, and he dared to dream.

It occurred to him, then, with a bitter irony, a sucker punch to the gut, that this wedding was the final death knell for any potential relationship.  That now, as her husband as well as her boss, the difference in their power balance was too great.  He could never be certain that, were he to actually be brave enough to ask for what he wanted, and by some miracle she agreed to more, that it was because it was what she wanted, and not because she was trying to please him- her entire life depended on him now, he was responsible for everything in her daily life,  and he could never be sure.

This realization took his breath away, a visceral, physical ache in his chest.  And, judging by the concern spreading over her face it was visible on his, and he glanced around desperately in an attempt to distract her.

“Brigadier!”

His old friend was standing at the edge of the dance floor talking to Clara and Danny, and by the pale expression on the young man’s face, giving him quite the talking-to, which Malcolm appreciated.  Glancing up Alistair nodded, and a moment later, made his way towards him while Clara and Danny escaped to the dance floor.

“Hello, Malcolm,” Alistair rumbled, stopping on the other side of the table from them.  “And Mrs. Tucker, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.  I’ve heard a fair bit about you, over the years.”

Ah, shit, Malcolm thought, belatedly remembering that he had, in fact, mentioned Rose to him once or twice over the years.  Or during every bloody conversation.  “Rose, this is Brigadier General Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart.  We go way back.  Brigadier, this is Rose Tyler.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, Brigadier,” Rose said warmly.  “I believe I’ve taken a few of your calls over the years.  Malcolm hasn’t told me all that much about you, but what he has says quite a bit.”

“Is that so?”  Alistair narrowed his eyes at Rose, as though sizing her up.  “And what, precisely, does that say- does he say?”

Malcolm held his breath, but Rose hardly blinked at the challenge.

“That you are one of the best men he’s ever known, and one of the few he would trust with Clara’s life, no questions asked.  That the world could do with more men like you.”  Then she grinned.  “His actual words were ‘he’s an old friend, and would sometimes watch Clara for me when Wallace couldn’t’.”

Malcolm’s ears went red, but Rose and the Brigadier both burst into laughter, so he was willing to suffer a bit of embarrassment in favor of two of the most important people in his life bonding.

“Did he ever tell you how we met?” the Brig asked, still chuckling, as he came around to sit in the chair on Rose’s other side.

She shook her head, shooting Malcolm an appraising look.  “No, he didn’t, an omission I hope you’re about to rectify, Sir.”

“Most certainly.  And, please, call me Alistair.  Now, it was-”

“You know, I don’t think I ever got the story of why you’re here,” Malcolm cut in.  He didn’t have serious expectations of being able to keep Rose from hearing the story, but he was inclined to keep them from getting too chummy.  The Brig knew too many of his secrets for their friendship to be comfortable for him.  Even a ten-minute delay seemed a wise move.

Both shot him knowing looks tinged with exasperation, saying they knew what he was doing.  “Very well,” the Brig said, “if you must know right this moment. Clara called and asked me to come- begged, really.  She was surprised to learn I’d never received an invitation, and that was the first I was hearing of this- you, remarrying.”

Fuck.  “I tried to get in touch, but was told you were very busy in Geneva,” Malcolm said stiffly.  “I don’t think your assistant liked me very much- Dorothy?  Doria?”

“Doris?”

“That’s it.”

The Brig smirked.  “You’re right, she doesn’t.  She’s my wife.”

Rose snorted, and Malcolm gave her a wounded look.  “Don’t laugh, how was I supposed to know?”

“You’ve met her at least a dozen times.”

“Still.”

“All right, all right,” Rose interrupted, smirking.  “You’ve gotten your answer.  I was about to get a story- a wedding present, if you will.  You wouldn’t deny a bride her wedding present, would you?”

Malcolm could deny her nothing on an average day; certainly not now that she had made such a sacrifice.  “Go ahead.”

“So-”

“Maybe I should tell it.”

The Brigadier rolled his eyes.  “If you insist.  But I will correct any falsities.”

Taking a long sip of his champagne and bite of cake, Malcolm nodded.  “So, it’s our first weekend in London- divorce finalized on Tuesday, packed up the car on Wednesday, and now it’s Saturday.  Having effectively never been to the city, I decide to take Clara to some of the historical tourist sites, as one does.  We sign up for a tour.  Not twenty minutes into it do I realize that somewhere between the ticket gate and Traitor’s Gate- roughly 100 meters, mind you- this girl has vanished.  Gone.  I about lost my fucking mind.  So I alert the security guard, they start a search party, you’d think someone had said ‘hey, where’d the crown jewels go?’ it was that level of seriousness, which I did appreciate.”  Pausing for another sip, he appreciated how intently both were listening to the story, relishing in their anticipation.

“Everyone’s searching for her, calling her name, everything.  And don’t I hear behind me, ‘Dad, there’s a girl missing with the same name as me, isn’t that weird?  Can we help look for her?”

Rose burst into laughter, so loud half the guests turned to look, including Clara, who got one glance at the three of them and marched over, Danny trailing behind as her ears turned red.

“Oh please, please, please tell me you didn’t tell her,” Clara begged, glaring at him.  “Please.”

“This explains so much,” Rose gasped, holding her napkin to her mouth in a failed bid to repress her laughter.  “Remember?  You did exactly the same thing in Edinburgh, I even called Malcolm, and he said, I quote, ‘She’ll turn up.  Don’t bother calling for her, she’ll think it’s a coincidence’.  Now I know why!”

“It was the first time she did that, but not the last,” he confirmed, grinned at Rose’s good humor.

“Oh, I love it.  Doesn’t explain you two meeting, though?”

The Brigadier beat him to the punch.  “I joined the army at eighteen. When this occurred I was stationed at the Tower working security when this five year old comes wandering down stairs I’m fairly certain haven’t been used in five hundred years, absolutely off limits even to us.  Well, I very slightly outranked my fellow guard, and decided to take her back up myself.  My daughter’s a few years older, and done the same thing once or twice, so I understood the panic.  We’ve been friends ever since.”

“Wow.”  Rose turned back to Malcolm, flashing him a grin.  “That is a great story.  Much better than being uni roommates.”

“Hey, I like our story,” Clara protested, giving an exaggerated pout.  “It’s good too.”

“Of course it is.”  Rose leaned back in her chair, examining the Brig with a considering eye.  “I bet you’ve got lots of stories about these two back in the day.”

To Malcolm’s dismay but not surprise, a coy grin grew over the soldier’s face.  “Why yes, indeed I do.”

“Alistair, I believe this is going to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”