#And my Laptop is never on the table it’s only been there vacate of a huge ass project I’m working on!!!!!!!!!!

[thetriumphantpanda]

freedom felt like summer | joel miller

Summary | Weeks of flirting back and forth with your neighbour Joel all comes to a head when he makes sure every inch of you in covered in suncream.

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count | 2.6K

Warnings | Explicit - reader wears a bikini and uses sun cream but is otherwise a blank slate. Alcohol consumption. Swearing, flirting, and dirty talk. Explicit smut - oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected PiV smut, creampie. No outbreak au and no use of y/n.

Authors Note | We've had a slither of sun in the UK and this is what happens. Big thanks to @undercoverpena for the shorts idea ;) I hope you enjoy! If you do, please consider reblogging, leaving comments or leaving a tip via my Ko-Fi.

Divider by the wonderful @saradika

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi.

There’s nothing quite like an Austin summer. Hot sun beating down, but with the new pool your parents had built when you’d moved out and their fully stocked fridge of soda and ice, it wasn’t too bad at all.

They’d gone on their annual holiday, two weeks in Mexico, which meant you had two weeks of lounging by the pool, soaking up the sun and bleeding them for their food and drinks. No responsibilities, is what you’d told yourself, laptop shut and job applications waiting, whilst you soaked the sun into your skin and made margaritas too strong once the clock struck 1pm.

The heat across your skin had dried the chlorine water quickly, coconut scented suncream slathered across every inch you could reach, not worrying about your back because it was pressed against the back of the lounger. You’re just started to drift off, eyes closing behind your sunglasses, when a voice jolts you.

“You manage to reach your back with that?”

There’s a small smirk that flashes across your mouth, quickly bitten away by your teeth as you sit up and turn around a little, looking over to the fence where Joel Miller is leaning over, pointing to the bottle of suncream on the small table next to you.

“Hard to reach there when it’s just me,” You shrug, “But it’s okay, it’s not getting any of the sun anyhow.”

He shakes his head and makes a tsk sound with his tongue against his teeth, “Don’t mean you shouldn’t try and cover it,” He says, sounding more like your dad than you’d care to admit, “The sun ain’t gonna look at that lounger and think it can’t burn you.”

“Well, I'm here on my own,” You offer, “Unless you’re gonna volunteer to smear it on my back, Miller, I'm gonna have to risk it.”

You can see him thinking over the fence, wondering if this is a good idea, much like he’s been thinking since you came home - degree done, jobs waiting - he’d flirted with you at your dad’s cookout in honour of you graduating, swapped numbers with you the day your parents left for vacation ‘in case you needed him’, and has spent the last week making any excuse to peek his head over the fence and talk to you, specifically when you’re out in your bikini, mostly when you’re dripping wet from coming out of the pool.

He holds his finger up and then disappears from view, only to come back seconds later through the gate at the bottom of your garden that connects your land with his. Your dad had been weary of it at first, but as soon as he’d met Joel, they’d hit it off, and now the gate is used more than the front door when they want to drink together.

He’s dressed simply, a pair of jeans and a worn t-shirt. Too stifling for you, you think, but you know he’s spent most of his life on building sites, so he must be used to the heat of the sun on his skin. Joel comes to a stop near the small table, but instead of picking up the bottle of cream, he opts for the half-empty glass of margarita you’d made not too long ago. He takes a sip and makes a face, which makes you laugh.

“Never understand how you women like this stuff.”

Setting the glass down, he picks up the bottle of cream and flips the lid, motioning for you to sit up, which you do, turning on the lounger so your back is facing him. The bottle of cream is really on its last legs, coming to the very end, so you can hear the bottle express more air than cream the first time he squeezes it. You hear him rubbing his hands together and then feel him step a little closer to your back.

“Ready?” He asks, voice low, to which you nod your head.

Then his hands are on you and it’s better than you ever had thought. They’re rough against your skin, but the way they’re gliding across your back is gentle. His hands drag the cream down your spine to the band of your bikini top, before he’s working it into your skin, all the way up to the nape of your neck. You can feel your head tipping forward, struggling to stifle a groan when you feel him gently shift one of the straps of your top down so he can bring the cream up and over your shoulders, his hand big enough that his fingers brush your collarbone. He repeats his actions on the other side, making sure to bring the straps back up when he’s done, then he gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“All done.”

“You’re a professional at that, Miller,” You praise, “Spend a lot of time rubbing suncream into girls backs, do you?”

“All the time.” Is his dry response as you move to lay back down.

When you turn your head, he’s already walking away.

“You can stay,” You offer, “If you’ve got nothing else to do.”

He stands still for a second before he turns over his shoulder, “Let me change and then I’ll come back.”

He’s doing this on purpose, you think, as you watch him glide under the water again, head dipping up as his arms work him down the pool where he comes to a stop, taking wet hands to slick his hair back from his forehead.

“You ever thought of having your own built?” You ask, sipping from the fresh margarita you’d made.

He shakes his head, “Thought about it a fair bit when Sarah was younger but now it would be wasted on me,” He explains, “Besides, I can always come and use yours,” You watch him bend his knees a little in the water so his chest is submerged, “Kinda hot out there, why don’t you come in a cool off.”

Joel has a point, even though it’s mid-afternoon now, the heat is still just as strong as it was when it was midday, so you drag yourself as carefully as you can manage off the lounger and plop yourself down on the side of the pool, dipping your legs in as Joel swims over. You expect him to stop, but he doesn’t, just puts his big palms on your upper thighs and spreads your legs wide, settling himself between them. You lean back, palms against the warm stone behind you, and push your sunglasses onto your head so he can see your eyes.

“Finally gonna make your move, huh?” You ask, eyebrow raised.

“Somethin’ like that.”

His palms are dragging up your thighs, resting on the band of your bikini bottoms, looking up at you like he’s waiting for permission, which you gladly give with a nod of your head. His fingers are hooking into the waistband and dragging down, you lift your hips to make it easier for him, and watch as he steps back in the water to drag them down your legs, leaving them forgotten on the side of the pool as he spreads your thighs wide. You’re not even think about the neighbours on the other side as you watch him, eyes focused on your bare cunt in front of him.

“Like what you see, Miller?” You ask, with a smirk, reaching your hand down your body, using two fingers to gently spread your folds in front of his face, dragging one up the length of your pussy to play with your clit.

You swear he growls at you, big hand gripping your wrist to drag your hand away from your core. He steps back between your thighs and uses the hand not gripping your wrist to push you back a little. Then his mouth is pressing hot kisses to your thighs, working up and across your tummy, back down the other side until you’re squirming and ready to beg.

You can feel the back of his knuckles drag up and down the folds of your cunt, “You gonna be wet if I touch you?” He asks, tone low.

“Why don’t you find out.”

So he does, using a single finger to dip between your folds, dragging down gently until he’s pressing it into your cunt, easy because you are in fact already dripping for him. You feel him work his finger in and out of you, before he’s adding a second and curling them up inside you at just the right angle to have your head tipping back and a moan dropping from your mouth.

“Gotta be quiet, Darlin’,” Joel speaks, “Do you want next door knowin’ what you’re up to?”

You’re about to come back with some smart retort when he leans forward and uses the tip of his tongue to flick gently against your clit, making it all the more harder to keep your moans at bay. Joel continues the light flick of his tongue against you whilst his fingers more in and out of your cunt, until he switches things up and wraps his lips around your clit, suckling it into his mouth whilst his fingers remain buried deep inside you, curling up in a ‘come hither’ motion to caress that perfect spot inside you.

Your hands fly to his hair, tangling deep in his chocolate curls, keeping his face flush to where he’s working you towards the edge.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Joel,” You breathe out, “Don’t stop, please, I’m gonna come.”

At your words, he doubles down, moving his fingers faster inside of you, sucking at your clit with more vigour. He pushes you over the edge easily, easier than anyone ever has before, legs shaking, skin alight, a silent scream sent forth to the sky as his mouth works you through it. Your body feels like jelly when he finally pulls away from you, but there’s enough energy left through your body that you can pull your legs from the water and get up onto your knees.

“Get out of the water, cowboy,” You murmur, bending down to press your lips to Joel’s, tasting yourself on his mouth, “I wanna fuck.”

You push yourself back from him, shuffling back to let him pull himself out of the water. His swim shorts are wet, rivulets of water dripping into pools at his feet, but all your eyes can really focus on is the outline of his cock through his wet shorts. He’s hard and from what you can tell, he’s big. It makes your mouth water, makes you want to wrap your lips around it, but it seems like he has other ideas for you. He’s dragging you up from your knees, walking you over to the low patio chairs, where he sits himself down on one and promptly drags you onto his lap, your thighs wide as they straddle him in the chair.

Your naked pussy is dragging against the wet bulge of his jeans, his hands moving your hips as you lean down again to kiss him, the endless flirting and build up over the last few weeks finally coming to a head as you let your tongue run against his, his hands lifting your hips a little so he can reach between the two of you to pull his shorts down just enough to free his cock.

You can feel the thick line of him running through your folds, wide head of his cock brushing against your clit as he moves, making you moan into his mouth just as he pulls away.

“You wanna sit on it?” He asks lowly, hands moving back to grip your bare ass, spreading you wide.

“I do.”

“Go on then, darlin’,” He speaks, “Show me what you’re made of.”

He helps raise your hips, letting you reach between the two of you to grip his cock, lining him up with your seeping entrance, sinking down just enough to let the tip of his cock notch into you. You lean your forehead against his, both damp with sweat, and revel in the fact that his mouth drops open in a sigh of pleasure just at the same time as yours does. You ease yourself down onto his cock a little more, letting the slight burn and stretch of him easing in, inch by inch, set your skin aflame.

You still once you’ve sunk down fully onto him, letting yourself get used to his length nestled inside you. You feel your cunt fluttering around him, and you know he can feel it too, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip when you start lifting yourself off him and sink back down.

“Shit, baby,” He breathes, leaning up to catch your mouth with his briefly, “You’re so fuckin’ tight.”

He makes you smile when he says things like that, it makes you bold, makes you lift up on him, almost all the way, and then sink back down, but harder and faster than before. As you move, Joel lets go of his grip on your ass and brings them to your bikini top, slipping the straps down, then pulling the material over your tits. He leans down, sucking a nipple into his mouth, rolling his tongue against it until it’s a stiff peak, switching sides to give the same attention to the other.

Once he’s given enough attention to your tits, he takes your hips in his hands, guiding your movements from bouncing to grinding, his cock sitting right within the depths of you as you move backwards and forwards on him. Joel brings a hand between you, using his thumb to draw rough circles over your clit.

“I need to feel you,” He breathes against your skin, “Need to feel you come on my cock.”

“Just…” You breathe right back, “Don’t stop, keep doing that, I’m right there.”

Joel leans up, mouth hot against the skin of your neck as he starts to suck at your skin, tip of his cock brushing just perfectly against that spot inside you as the familiar feeling at your spine builds and builds until it’s crashing over you. You bury your head in his neck, damp with sweat and the remnants of pool water, letting out the quietest moan you can manage as your pussy pulls tight around his length and you feel yourself gush against him, his thumb continuing to work you through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“You gotta tell me where,” He mutters urgently, “I’m close baby, where do you want me.”

“Inside,” You beg against his skin, realising it was muffled, you turn your head and speak again, “Inside me Joel, please.”

It only takes a few more deep grinds of your hips before he’s gripping your hips tight to keep you still, spilling inside you, warmth spreading through your cunt and as groans your name quietly, so as not to alert the neighbours as to what they just missed in your backyard.

He pulls you close, arms wrapping around your lower back, both of you catching your breath for a moment. You press a kiss to his chest, nuzzling your face into his warm skin as his softening cock slips from your tight heats. You can feel the trickle of his cum down your inner thigh, but make no effort to move, enjoying the feeling of his arms around you.

“Same time tomorrow?” You mumble against his skin.

“Same time tomorrow, baby.”

[bookdork1]

Spilled a huge glass of water on my laptop an hour ago and I currently hate everyone and everything

[queen-of-deans-booty]

With Love From

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~800

Warnings: fluff

Request by anon: Hey can i request a Dean Winchester x wife reader that she spoiled and pampering him to much but she don’t cared and she love giving him love, attention, affection, and etc all things him always dreamed?. something cute and fluffy because him deserve all the love from the world. 

Summary: You take Dean on a much-needed vacation and give him everything he wants and deserves.

Square Filled: driving in the impala (2022) for @spndeanbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

“Got your pajamas?”

“Yes.”

“Toothbrush and toothpaste?”

“Yes.”

“What about your chargers? I put an extra one in your bag just in case.”

“What are you, my mom?” Dean jokes. “Yes, I have everything.”

“Okay, don’t come crying to me when you’ve forgotten something and ask to use my toothbrush. I won’t do it again.”

“That was one time.”

“One time too many. We’ve done a lot of things, Dean Winchester, but sharing a toothbrush is gonna be a no for me.”

“Yes, I have everything. Why are you bugging out? You’re never like this whenever we go on a hunt.”

Dean takes both yours and his bags to the library where Sam is. He has his laptop and plenty of books all around him. There is a case not far from here that he is reading up on since he is going to be the one to tackle this case.

“We’re not going on a hunt,” you reveal when he sets the bags on the table.

“What?”

“We’re not going on a hunt.”

“Sam’s been working like crazy about this case a few towns over.”

“Yeah because he’s going to be the one to take care of it. We’re not.”

“Sam, what is she talking about?” Dean asks.

“Dude, I am just as clueless as you,” he chuckles and closes his laptop. “All I know is that I’m doing this one solo.”

“If we’re not going on a hunt, where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“You know I hate surprises,” Dean practically whines.

“Well, you’re getting one today. No hunt. No monsters. Definitely alcohol. Does that sound like a great time?” you smile.

“Sounds like a Saturday to me.”

“Come on, we’re going to be late if we don’t leave now.” You see the look on Dean’s face and immediately shuts down what he is going to say next. “If Sam needs help, he can call Garth.”

“Yeah, go have fun. I got this,” Sam backs you up.

You and Dean pack up the Impala and say your goodbyes to Sam who barely waves you two off. Dean is always the driver unless otherwise preoccupied, so he gets behind the wheel even though he has no idea where he’s going. You’re going to be the navigator for this special trip, only telling him what turns to make right before he needs to do them.

“Shall I put on the special playlist?”

“Special playlist? What’s the occasion?”

“I love you. Is that enough?”

“More than enough,” he smiles.

His special playlist consists of songs he could listen to on repeat for hours. Sam doesn’t let him put the playlist on since Sam complains he needs to listen to more than just classic rock. He claims they all sound the same even though each has their own unique sound.

About halfway through the trip, you stopped to get food at Dean’s favorite diner. He often comes here while on hunts even if it’s hours out of the way. There’s something about the way they make their burgers that has his mouth watering every single time.

“Okay, tell me where we’re going,” Dean chuckles with his mouth full.

“I told you it’s a surprise,” you smile. “You’re going to love it.”

Dean has no choice but to trust you. Once you two get done eating, you get back on the road and tough out the last half of the trip. You took over driving for the last hour just so he wouldn’t be suspicious of where you two were going but as soon as Dean sees the town’s name, he gets so excited.

“Wait, we’re in Mt. Sterling?”

“Yeah.”

You drive to one of the best gun stores in America. They have such a high rating since people from all over the country come here just to buy guns. Dean has been wanting to come here for a long time, and you figure it’s time to bring him. Dean is practically bouncing in his seat when you park, and he jumps out of the car in excitement.

You watch him run into the store with a smile on your face, and you make sure the car is locked before following him inside. He is like a child loose in a candy store or a toy store. He is admiring all of the guns on display, holding them just to feel how they would fit in his hands.

“Pick any you want. I’ll get it for you.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah.”

“I love you so much,” he grins and kisses you.

Seeing him so happy brings you so much joy. He doesn’t get a lot of opportunities to be this happy. He doesn’t allow himself to be this happy most of the time, so taking time to give him this is very important. He channels his inner child and goes wild. He settled on another handgun that closely resembles the one he has now, but it has a silencer on the end of it which will make for easy hunting.

After he got all that excitement out, you two headed to the bar across the street to have a few rounds on you.

“How the hell did I ever get so lucky?” he smiles.

“I’m the lucky one, my love. You deserve all the love in the world.”

Dean leans in and kisses you, happy to be yours.

x

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[theflashesoflove]

obstacle II

Larissa Weems x f!reader (nsfw) – series

part I :: part II :: part lll :: ao3

a/n: thank you to everyone who showed me some love for the first chapter!! i am very very smitten (and quite nervous). let's see how all of this goes from larissa's point of view. there are some inconsistencies with canon events (not to mention that larissa is alive, which she very much is in canon as well, we all know that)

warnings/tags: unhealthy online relationship, dom!larissa x sub!reader dynamics, sexting, implied masturbation, angst, insecurity, guilt – you get the vibes

chapter word count: 3.7k

Part II: she puts the weights in my heart

It was a blissful evening, but Larissa’s inner state was nowhere near bliss. Nevermore was finally back on track after the horrible Hyde situation, yet Larissa lagged behind in adjusting to the new reality. It wouldn’t be this hard if she didn’t spend two weeks in hospital after being poisoned by Laurel Gates – she never went on vacation, she never took additional days off, and being away from her principal duties certainly slowed her down. Especially when she absolutely hated being patronised by doctors and nurses who didn’t want to discharge her from hospital no matter how many times she snarled and threw tantrums about how extremely important it was for her to get back to work. Even after finally nagging her way out earlier than a proper healing process required, Larissa still couldn’t shake the feeling of being out of place. It felt as though all of her efforts had reset to zero and she had to start everything all over again – negotiate with the new Mayor, establish a reverent relationship with the normie population and mitigate the consequences of Hyde attack among students. Her mind was still weak after she was nearly lying on her deathbed, her heart was still heavy knowing what her students had been through. The only thing that stayed the same even after the incident was her relationship with you, and she would hate to admit that it only added to her problems. She was constantly followed by guilt, all-consuming and unmerciful. 

Larissa didn’t like to feel like a bad person. Life had taught her that if she wanted to achieve something, being her charming and ambitious self wasn’t enough – she had to be clever and sly, sometimes even manipulative and ruthless. She had good intentions, but the only language the world around her could understand was a language of fierceness. Larissa could always come up with an excuse for her problematic actions when it came to protecting the school, but she could never come up with an excuse for being dishonest towards you. 

Some of the students gathered in the yard after the classes were over, sitting in small groups and enjoying one of the last warm days of September. Larissa wished to return to her school days and be as carefree as they were in that moment, laughing and gossiping and perhaps worrying about their first love. A small smile crawled on her face as she looked out of the window – students seemed to adjust after what had happened more successfully than their Principal did, but this fact made Larissa hopeful that she would catch on soon. One detail, however, was still out of place. A tormenting reminder of Hyde attack, the destroyed tower that was off limits for students and hurt the Principal’s eyes like a grain of sand. Perhaps the upcoming renovation could finally calm her heart. She stepped away from the window to return to her chair and looked at the clock – her last meeting of the day was supposed to start five minutes ago. As soon as she decided to check if there were any new messages from you and reached out for her phone, she heard a confident knock on her door. Larissa moved her chair closer to the table and opened her laptop while inviting whoever was waiting for her response with a light “Come in!”. Deep down Larissa was glad that the architect got there a little late, she really needed those extra five minutes of solitude to catch a breath after a rather tense meeting with the new Mayor. 

To catch a breath, that was immediately stolen away from her when you walked in. 

At first, Larissa thought she was hallucinating. Her mind was undoubtedly playing games with her, she just had to blink the mirage away. But you were still there even after the woman closed and opened her eyes a few times, and your lovely voice was like a slap on her face – it’s real, it’s real, you are real and you are here.

“Terribly sorry I’m late. I had to stop for petrol,” you murmured, closing the door behind you. 

Larissa couldn’t move. You never told her that you were an architect, you never told her what your new project was about, you never told her that you knew anything about reconstruction. You just entered her office like a deadly storm, and Larissa had to act professional somehow. It felt as though she was doused with ice cold water, as though she was blinded and deafened, as though she fell down in her sleep and woke up in cold sweat. She couldn’t feel her own breathing, she wasn’t aware of her surroundings anymore. However what felt like an eternity of catatonia lasted only for a split second, and Larissa’s stupor was followed by a sheer panic. You swiftly approached her desk and extended your hand, introducing yourself, and suddenly Larissa was very aware of it all – of how rapidly her heart was beating, of how hot her cheeks grew, of how painfully her stomach flipped when she saw your oblivious smile and felt the softness of your hand as she met it with her own, moving on autopilot. All the formal interactions she practised every day became entirely foreign concepts to her, and she kept rudely staring at you, at a loss for words.

The circle of lies and secrets she had created backfired on her with its full force, leaving her trapped with you in the same room. When you entered Larissa’s office, she already knew what your name was. When you shook her hand, she already knew what that hand did just a couple of nights before, teasing your body on camera for her. When you spoke, she already knew how that voice sounded when you were on edge. She already knew your every curve, your dirty fantasies and what you were capable of for her – no, for Lydia. Every little detail of you was shared with non-existent Lydia, but it was Larissa who always was on the receiving end. Larissa knew, Larissa knew everything, she wasn’t supposed to be the one who knew it, but she couldn’t run away from it.

You pursed your lips and shyly touched the backrest of a chair that stood in front of Larissa’s desk, and it alerted the woman that she still didn’t invite you to sit down. “Ah, yes, yes, please, take a seat. I am sorry, it’s been a rough day,” she uttered, looking around her desk in search of something to hold on to. She found a pen and clutched it in her hand as she listened to the rustle of you pulling out the chair and sitting across from her. 

“It’s alright, I won’t keep you long. For the first meeting at least,” you gave her a small smile, and Larissa’s whole being buzzed from anxiety, her nerves completely destroying her professional composure. “Our manager has already drawn up a contract, I just need you to read through it, check if everything’s right, and sign it. In two copies,” you reached in your bag and pulled out a thin folder with documents, “one stays with you, one stays with me.” You handed Larissa the papers and she immediately busied herself reading through them to avoid making eye contact with you. 

Words seemed to melt together, and Larissa couldn’t focus on the content of the contract for the life of her. She knew that you were patiently watching her, presumably seeing her struggle to read a few pages. Her mind drifted away once again, agitated that at any moment you could recognise in her someone who sent you dirty messages and kept you in the dark about her real personality. Larissa scanned through the contract, not paying attention to the formalities, because her brain was occupied with calming her heart down. You couldn’t possibly know that Larissa was Lydia, or the other way around, you couldn’t possibly recognise her, because she never sent you pictures of her face. The only bits she’d shared were her legs and her- her hands… Could you recognise her hands? Her manicure? Larissa’s mind raced as she hesitated for a second before taking a look at you to see you scrolling through your phone. She carefully dropped the pen and brought her hands on her lap to shift her nail colour to something, anything else. A second later she grabbed the pen again and saw that her nails got a different shape and were painted silver. It wasn’t a bad choice, Larissa thought, but it was a very unusual one. And you wouldn’t even notice the insignificant change, would you? She felt ridiculous for caring about such a small detail, but it calmed her nerves a tiniest bit nonetheless. 

Larissa looked through the contract again, and she was glad that she found it in her to do so, because she noticed a mistake, “It doesn’t say anything about the installation of a new heating system,” she noted, looking up at you. 

You put your phone away and frowned, “Did you mention it while talking to our manager?”

“I… I suppose I forgot. Can we add it to the list though? The tower was the only part of Nevermore that never got decent heating, and we always had to cancel lessons in the observatory during cold seasons.” Larissa internally winced at how unusually weak her voice sounded.

“Of course. I will notify our manager and bring you a new contract. It’s a good thing you noticed, usually clients don’t pay much attention,” you said lightly. 

“I hope it won’t be a bother, it’s easy to forget things while looking after hundreds of teenagers at once,” Larissa handed you the papers back.

“No, no, it’s alright. I must admit, I never realised that being a principal might be this stressful. Not saying that it’s easy, but… just never really thought about it.” You gave Larissa an awkward smile. It was precious to her. “I was planning on seeing the tower and taking a few pictures. And maybe there will be something else you remember about?”

“Oh, right, right. I’ll lead the way.” Larissa stood up, nervously smoothing the fabric of her skirt. 

The meeting proceeded in the school yard, Larissa watched as you carefully observed the tower ruins and took pictures from every possible angle. Ironically, Larissa was glad that she finally wasn’t the centre of your attention.

“The top part is completely destroyed,” you mumbled to yourself softly, craning your neck to look up at the damage that was done to the part of the building, “I cannot even imagine what could have caused it, especially in a school. It couldn’t have been students, could it?” You turned to look at Larissa who stood at a discreet distance. 

“Well, I suppose it could. But it wasn’t their fault. It’s… hard to explain.” Larissa was surprised to see that you probably didn’t know what exactly was happening at Nevermore just a few months ago. After a small pause, she asked, “Is it necessary to completely take down what’s left?”

“If you’d prefer to leave the remaining parts, I can work around it. We’ll just have to reconstruct the top…” you were focused on the ruins and Larissa couldn’t help but think how enticing you looked while doing your job. Now that the two of you were outside it was much easier to breathe, and Larissa could freely admire your form – not that she didn’t have enough opportunities to admire it before. Oh, and the way your beauty was even more outstanding in real life. You were dressed for work, and for Larissa, a woman who deeply valued her appearance in the office, it was the most delightful, the most attractive sight to see. Your little smiles were much brighter in person, your hair looked soft and your shape was unsurprisingly smaller compared to Larissa’s. It made her want to cover you with her body and hide you in her arms. Tearing away from inappropriate thoughts, she internally cursed herself and tried to pay attention to your words. “It seems like a pretty solid construction, It could have stood for centuries,” you mused, touching one of the old mossy bricks. “But we’ll find the materials to blend in beautifully,” stepping away from the tower wall, you approached Larissa. “I’ll have the first renders ready for our next meeting and we can discuss anything you would like to add or get rid of.”

“Very well,” Larissa breathed out, not expecting you to come this close to her. In fact, she was only being dramatic – you maintained a professional distance. “I… I look forward to it,” she forced a smile that barely touched her lips.

﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉

Once you left, Larissa felt anxious all over again. She realised it was only a matter of time before you wrote to Lydia, and how could she continue all of this, knowing full well that she would have to see you every week and work with you on the renovation? How could she pretend to be just a mere stranger, a put-together principal and continue to secretly order you around, to send you filthy messages and not feel like shit about it? Guilt gnawed at her, it made her nervously pace her office, completely unable to finish her work for the day. Perhaps her lies had to come to a halt, and that meeting just marked the beginning of the end. 

Larissa never thought that the first conversation she’d shared with you would lead her into this kind of relationship. She never tried shopping for antiques online, she didn't even bother to properly fill out her profile information on the reselling site – she just wanted a peculiar-looking record player, but you forgot to take the advertisement down after selling it. It was a pity, she really liked that old little thing, but in the end she was blessed – or rather cursed – with something much more interesting. Next thing Larissa knew, both of you engaged in discussing music and, gradually, you started sharing some innocent facts about your life. Larissa thought it was fun – she hadn't had a conversation about something not related to her job in ages. Then, you started texting her more frequently and Larissa couldn’t help but tease you for it. You seemed to like her teasing tone and started playing along. It made her more confident and bolder with her words – she would never admit it, but sometimes she blushed at her own messages; it wasn’t because she was shy, it was because of the image in her head, the fantasy of having you just the way Larissa wanted. What was worse, she smiled like she was young and carefree again whenever she got your response. With you she felt more at ease exploring this passionate and provoking side of her, feeling a tad smug when you reacted to her ambiguous messages in the most adorable way. It aroused a thrill within her, a deep interest and longing for more. 

However she was awfully scared of bringing this into real life, knowing that she had accidentally set the bar too high, and that you would surely be disappointed to learn that behind those messages was a woman who was overconsumed with her work and actually quite dull as a person – that was what Larissa thought of herself. After a week of your rapidly developing relationship, you texted her, i just realised i never got your name! – and Larissa didn’t know why she lied. It was a good idea at the time, she assumed that sooner or later you would become bored even of this bolder version of her, and giving you her actual name wouldn’t change anything. To her surprise and secret delight, it wasn’t the case. You accepted everything she offered you and didn’t ask uncomfortable questions. Just once, though, you suggested meeting somewhere for dinner, and Larissa politely refused, saying that she wouldn’t have the time for it in the foreseeable future. It wasn’t entirely a lie, but Larissa knew that if she wasn’t such a coward, she would have found all the time in the world to see you. 

Being in love was unhealthy for Larissa. It was painful and distracting from her work. It made her dizzy and nauseous, certain that the object of her infatuation would never reciprocate her feelings. It happened once, twice, it happened enough times to make her hopeless and stern – her heart couldn’t take it anymore. Deep down she always craved intimacy and touch, but even occasional one-night stands made her stumble and sense an unpleasant cramp in her stomach once they were over. Lydia was a clever barrier that, Larissa hoped, would catch her when she would fall again. She wasn’t getting too close, she didn’t allow herself to get attached, because Larissa’s heart was shielded by a mysterious and more confident image of a different woman. She was foolish thinking that this could ever work.

The messages you sent her had become a part of Larissa’s daily routine, and initially innocent and friendly conversations inevitably escalated into sexting. On some days, both of you exchanged only text messages, but more often you sent her nudes which made Larissa immensely aroused. Sometimes she would sit in her office, curtains drawn and door locked, basking in the warmth of the fireplace, drinking wine and waiting for you to finish recording your video. She’d watch you shaking and squirming and accidentally moaning Lydia’s name instead of the mistress title. It didn’t happen often, but when it did… Oh, how she wished to be Lydia. To be the woman you were so close to, whom you trusted with everything, whom you cared for. How she wished that she could give you what your kind soul deserved – honesty. A minor lie about her name evolved into an entire net of secrets. Larissa embellished her image, drifting away from reality. She gave all the credit to Lydia, who was fun and enticing, who deserved to be loved and wasn’t afraid of her fantasies – in Larissa's head Lydia was everything that she wasn’t. In Larissa's head her real self was the one who was only rejected and forgotten, whose beauty wilted years ago and whose charm was only suitable for overpowering her business associates. She didn’t even give herself a chance to be proven otherwise. 

The darkness finally settled around Nevermore, cold air whistling through the windows all over the dim empty halls of the school. Students were back to their dorms and Larissa observed the empty yard, tense and restless. She tried to breathe deeply – it didn’t help. Just as she’d expected, you sent her a picture a couple of hours after the meeting. You were laying on your side in pretty light pink lingerie, inviting and painfully lovely, what can i do for you tonight, mistress? 

Normally, Larissa would open the messenger and tell you all the things she wanted to do with you. She would order you to be a good girl for her and send her a video of you touching yourself – making it all nice and pretty, exposing your flushed skin and releasing heavenly sounds. She would bring herself to the edge, groaning under her breath and revelling in the power she had over you. Then, she would praise you and tease you further, just to bring you the lightest mood for the night. Maybe she would even send you a picture in return, but it was a rare occasion, when Larissa was too tipsy to overthink it. This time she couldn’t do anything. She didn’t open the messenger – she looked through the notification from her lock screen – she didn’t tell you how much she wanted to see you pleasuring yourself for her. She chose to ignore you. And it made her feel absolutely horrible for the rest of the night. There were dozens of unanswered emails on her work laptop, and after it became unbearable to be alone with her feelings, she busied herself with answering them in a rather harsh tone, venting her spleen at whoever needed something from her. Her head ached. Her heart squeezed inside her chest. She was angry at herself, fearful and bursting with guilt from knowing that her little game had to come to an end and there was no place for Lydia anymore. From knowing that it was going to hurt you. 

A few hours later she received a new message from you, are you still at work?

She could sense your worried tone through her screen. It wasn’t usual for Larissa to leave your messages unanswered until morning. Only once, when she was in hospital, was it taking her too long to reply. She was physically unable to respond to your messages, though she explained it to you in advance, saying that she got terribly ill, but her recovery went smoothly. It left no room for unneeded concern on your part, you just hoped that Lydia would be fine.

This time, however, there was no adequate explanation. Larissa still didn’t answer. She tried to go to sleep at her usual time but ended up staring in the darkness, guilty, awfully guilty. If her exhaustion hadn’t finally forced her to fall asleep, she would have seen your message in the dead of night, lydia, is everything alright? – you couldn’t sleep again, but this time Larissa was the one to blame. 

She saw your message in the morning but didn’t reply. Her heart was heavy the whole day, and she drowned out the pain with more work; insufferable meetings, Wednesday’s outbursts and ignorant parents. Larissa would never say that she hated her job no matter how difficult it was – she didn’t tire easily, but her soul was worn out. That was why she never let herself be swallowed by feelings that were even remotely close to those of romantic love and affection before. That was why making an exception for you was a terrible mistake. She received a few more messages from you during the day and hid her phone in the desk drawer to avoid seeing them. Larissa had always known that sooner or later Lydia would have to part ways with you – she couldn’t keep you in the dark forever. It was a necessary sacrifice for her own peace of mind, and the two of you got business to do, after all. 

﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉

💌: @scream-queenlover @kimiinou @gwendolinechristieiscute @weemssapphic @imprincipalweemspet @gwenslucifer @im-a-carnivorous-plant @evanivox @ctrlamira

(tell me if you want to be added to the taglist <3)

[crazycatgirl420]

Gotham's Black Rose

Dpxdc fanfic Sam is Bruce Wayne's daughter, adopted by the Manson family. Everlasting Trio, toddler Ellie. Pharoah Tucker, Witch Sam, Space Ancient Danny. And Cujo too.

Chapter 2: Comfort and Planning

The last thing Sam wanted right now was for cameras to be flashing in her face or for reporters to be shoving mics at her. Shoving past the crowd yelling questions she didn't want to think about right now, Sam made her way towards the street.

It didn't take long for Danny to show up, motorcycle roaring down the street. His ice blue eyes glared at the noisy crowd, and they hesitated long enough for Sam to escape.

She jumped on, wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his shoulder. They pulled away from the event without a single word to her parents - adopted parents apparently- which was for the best. Sam didn't even have words for them anymore.

-

Danny pulled into the Foley driveway with ease. Tucker sat on the patio, laptop open to live broadcast of the Manson's adoption reveal, and Ellie sat in a specially designed play pen with puppy Cujo.

"How's Sam?" Tuck asked, muting the video as Danny walked over.

"Oh you know." Danny said. "She's confused, disappointed, scared."

Turning around, Danny gently shook Sam onto Tucker's open arms.

"What a mess," Tucker sighed. "How do you just forget to mention that?"

"No idea man," Danny said.

The only one of them with a decent childhood was Tucker, and he's got horrible past-life memories of a Pharaoh's life in Egypt to process.

"I'm gonna curse them," Sam said. "They'll never be able to keep a secret ever again,"

"You know that's gonna have more consequences than you want to be responsible for," Tucker said.

"I know," Sam said. "...Pamela will always drop her pearls and Jeremy will never find the right cufflinks Pamela wants him to wear,"

"Petty," Danny said.

Sam nodded against Tucker's shoulder, before lifting her right hand, a twisting purple energy pooling in her palm. With a snap the magic vanished, off to fulfill its purpose on the unspecting Manson couple.

Ellie squealed in the pen, clapping her hands and chanting "magic! Magic!"

"So you've cursed them, what do you want to do now?" Danny asked, sitting on the grass.

Sam sat up, relocating to sitting on the stair and between Tucker's legs. Tucker ran his hands through Sam's hair, enjoying the company of his small family despite the heavy topic at hand.

"I want to know who my biological parents are," Sam said. "I want to know why I was put up for adoption and I want to move to Gotham as soon as possible."

"I can get us transferred to a Gotham high school for our senior year," Tucker said. "We're already accepted to Gotham University,"

"I can have me and Ellie packed by this weekend," Danny said.

"It's the last month of summer vacation so it's going to be a bit of a rushed transfer, I'll follow in my jeep, it's going to take me a minute to pack my office up,"

Sam let the boys plan their move, their voices a comforting background to her swirling emotions.

Ellie would know where she came from, no matter how complicated a story it was. Sam could see it, five years from now, they'd sit her down at the dinner table and explain an evil scientist tried to clone Danny, and instead Danny got an Ellie and she's been their daughter ever since.

Why was family so complicated?

[chemicallady]

I WANNA FEEL LOVE AGAIN

Part 1 ; Part 2 ;

Couple: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: I made a little homage to three fanfiction I really love! I leave you to find the references ;)

Taglist: @ada-clarence , @badalmondzzzz , my wifey @starsomens , @raventherockstarhippie @blacksoul-27 , @somewhere-diamond

Summary:  This is just cute. I swear.

But you never promised me to be wiser of better.

Time flies.

Two years passed by so fast that you almost didn't notice. At first, your job was not demanding at all, compared with the rest of the crew. You have to accompaning Noah or any other member of the band to attend the interviews, most of them for radio stations. Taking notes for integrations on their website. Keep an eye on publicize enough any tourdates or merch drop, find sponsor for bigger venues and check at the end of the day if the guys need something for the day after.

You had to spend a lot of your time on the band socials, especially instagram and twitter, which you have always shared credentials with your brother and the rest of the band. You also create their TikTok and take care about the creation of fun contents.

It was way easy before the release of Death of Peace of Mind. After the beginning of 2022, you were on the road more than at home. A lot of famous hosters started to ask for an interview with Noah. All the lights switched on the future promise of rock music when Just Pretend became one of the most used/listened songs on TikTok.

And now, in the middle of the summer of 2023, the band is still rising. More money bring more responsabilities, the necessity of arranged a better shows, bigger interviews, more publicity, more interaction through the socials.

Everyone has to work the double, you included. Speaking with radio manager and small magazine specialized in all metal subgenders was a thing.

But now the band is too huge to stop at this level. And you werent trained enough for all this pressure, but it started to grow on you month after month, tour after tour. You are the guardian of Noah's schedule. You are not charming enough to compete with others PR, but since the crew is more similar to family meeting than a serious ansemble of professionals, you became competitive.

Hard work got big results like the european tour with Bring Me the Horizon. Oli wanted Bad Omens to open for him but you were the one who put all her soul and time on the project. On the papers. Because behing any tour there is a mountain of burocracy, sponsor phone calls and publicity. You had to team up with Matt, Miles and Davis so many times that at some point, that it's like having more than just one older brother.

From june 4th, the last day on tour, you are on vacation. You have nothing to do with music creation or audio/video sound checks. You just need a laptop, a lot of patience every time you scroll your emails, and the fantastic mojito your neighbour Brianna makes. A good reason to work on your balcony, along with the sound of the ocean, is her company. You don't have many friends but she is amazing. She moved from Minnesota after the shutdown, and she is an actress. Small roles, but as she always says, small roles bring bigger ones.

《 and it would have been ever better if my prick boyfriend didn't show up and basically assaulted the casting director》

You have heard this story at least ten times, but it's still amazing how boys can be idiots. 《 Why are you still with him? He's a bomb ready to detonate, Bri》 , you know that your concern will not help her in resonate, but you can't shut up.

《 I can't afford either the apartment or the car and you know that, y/n. Also, he is not that bad when he's sorber.》

《 But he never is! 》 you place the now empty glass on the outdoor table, disappointed in seeing her almost offended expression. It's a fortune that Matt isn't around. He has to deal with Jim at least twice a week. 《 You're my friend, Bri. The only one unrelated to my job..... I can't sleep over this situation anymore. I can help you. Move in with me and Matt, take care of my plant and Lucifurr for me while we are on tour. We don't want you to help with the rent. You just need to tell that dick to fuck off.》

《.... but he drives me to every casting》

《 and he's the reason no one is picking you in a very first place. This relationship is too toxic》

《 y/n I think you're crossing the line.》

《 He's gonna kill you one of these days!》

You both muted for a couple of seconds, the now tense air between the two of you being thick as a wall. Yeah, you cross the line but like Matt, you're no good in resonate with people who don't want any help. And like Matt you can't stand injustice, not at this rate.

But you know that you have to excuse yourself, simply it's hard to find the right words. You are not going to apologise for speaking your mind, but just about the way you did it.

《 y/n? Are you ready?》

A raspy voice catch you off guard. It's already seven??

《 Shit, Noah. I'm outside》, you yell in response, before turning again towards Brianna. She already reached the empty glass and without a word, and she comes back to her apartment. 《 C'mon Brianna. I'm sorry, just-for the fuck sake.》

Noah is standing right next to you when Brianna shut the door loudly.

All you can do is sigh out loud - a bad habit you inherit from the tall man on your side - before bringing your hands to cover your face in frustration.

《 What's going on, here?》 He asks , munching a candy.

《 I don't understand women.》

He gives you a funny look. 《 Damn, that's the real deal, man. Not the chicken/egg question, or what's our purpose on earth.... but why you girls act so weird. 》

《 Shut the fuck up, Noah. Not now.》

Your relationship with Noah also changed drastically in the last two years. It required some time and a ton of patience, but he open up to you and from thenon, you became a sort of confident of him. In return, he is the one you call when things are not going well. It was a bit embarrassing, the first months, but your friendship now is stronger than youve ever immagined. You feel like you can tell everything to Noah without being judged. Sometimes he laughs at you, of course, but he knows when a situation has to be manged seriously.

He cares about you with all his heart.

He doesn't aspect nothing in return, but he is dear to you on a level than only your brother have always been.

And he knows you deeply, that's why it is so easy for him to detect how worried you are.

《 Do you think he beats her? I mean, Steve is a scumbag, but I can't figure him being actually that violent. He is always too high to have some form of coordination.》

Since his arrival - Noah has the keys of the apartment so he can come and go as he pleased, especially when both you and matt are not in town and someone has to take care of Luci- Noah asked you questions on Brianna's situation.

He knows you're concerned and he also can't pretend he is fine with your neighbors yelling at each others on daily basis.

《 I don't know but he is getting more and more jealous. She told me he's sabotaging her auditions, now.》

Noah takes a sip of the iced tea you offer him, before grab your hand on the surface of the counter. 《 Start to call the police on them, when they argue. Maybe you're right. He is not beating her yet. But he could start.》 You nod slowly, thanking him with a soft smile. 《 By the way, do you feel okay? Wanna postpone our date?》

He loves to joke around with you, because he knows how this helps in rising your moral.

You pretend to get offended. 《 I would never, ever decline a date with you. Let me change in a more adequate outfit.》

《 take your time, the limo's driver can wait downstairs.》

You giggle, before leaving him in the kitchen, reaching your room for a quick change. In five minutes you're ready: a ponytail, red joggers and a tank top.

《 Ready to run, pretty boy?》

《 I'm always ready, chicken butt.》

Noah has never told you the real reason why he has taken the work out so seriously, but you're glad he did, because you joined him on his program and honestly, you feel at your top right now. It's not a matter of aesthetics, but you feel healthy. You are less tired at the end of the day, and you can endure the - at least- 15 working hours while Touring. Back at home, it became a habit of the two of you going out for a run daily during the sunsets since Noah is not an early bird and you'd rather work in the morning.

The place you chose is on the street that runs alongside the beach in Malibù. One of reason why you got used to LA is also the precious view of the ocean while the sun sinks in it and paints the sky in gold.

There is a small beach, hidden in the stunning nature of the Pacific Coast, that has become your spot. Every day you reach that beach, stretch a little and then go back to your apartment when usually Noah showers before leaving.

Today is a Saturday and even if you don't have big plans, Noah sometimes takes his chances on a Saturday night. Even God took a day off on Sunday, right?

《 It's the red hair?》

You ear him chuckles while you bend, grabbing the tip of your toes to stretch your back.

《 No red hair as far as I can recall》

《 So... the girl you helped at that dive bar?》 You rise again, bringing your arms to the sky 《The one who broke up with her cheating boyfriend? Or maybe your neighbour? I like her. I remember you told me she was so happy when you sent her our merch.》

Noah pushes you a little, making you loosing your balance while a giggle leaves your lips. 《 You're making me look like a fuckboy!》

《you are a fuckboy, always surrounded by beautiful women. And don't look at me like that! I know you like it that way!》

Noah is young and awesome. You got a crush on him in the beginning of your partnership. It's more than obvious that he has a significant number of choices when he wants to spend a night out.

This used to hurt you a bit, but the feeling of jealousy or envy - you still don't know what it was - disappeared in the moment you realised what you have.

All this girls can have noah for a night or two.

You can have him fully, you can call him in the middle of the night if a guy screws on you and Noah will bring you to buy ice-cream to McDonald's. You two can talk for hours about the absolute nothing or regarding the most difficult life choices.

You can mocking him, make him laugh in the golden light of the dying sun, in this very moment.

And that's more than enough.

Maybe you and Noah are not meant to be lovers, but he is your person and you are his. Like twin Flames, that doesn't matter how far they are.

They always burn bright.

《 I don't know, I was thinking for something casual. Like Netflix and chill.》

Lucifurr jumps off the sofa in the moment he hears Noah entering in your apartment. Your cat totally ignores you and starts to purr to the tall man that interrupts everything to kneel and cuddle the black ball of furr.

Satanic animal...

《 Then you should text the neighbor. She is the sweetest of yours hooks up.》

《 Then I can simply ring the door on my way back.》

《 Call her, Noah. Don't be a prick. The world doesn't revolve around you. Maybe she is planning to go out.》

You can hear him sigh in his annoying way. 《Can I shower here, anyway? I smell bad.》

《 You always smell bad.》

《 Am I???》

You exchange a glaze with him and immidiatly know its time to run. In the moment he leaves Luci alone, he is following you around the house while you yell for help. But matt isn't back yet, so you're on your own. As soon as noah reaches you (very soon, his legs are longer than yours), he huggs you tight, trying to put your head under his armpit.

《 NOAH STOP IS DISGUSTING!》 , you try to defend yourself hitting him on his back and between his legs with small slaps.

《Ei! Low blow! Don't slap my nutts!》

《 Don't sweat on me, you piece of-》

A yell interrupted the both of you, follow by a long cry and some smashed dishes. Noah realise the grip on you and sighs deeply looking at the wall that divides your apartment from Briannas one.

《 Is it always like this?》

《 almost every day, now.》

And there is something that broke in your cracking voice that completely shattered Noahs heart.

《 let's call the cops》, he says with a soft voice, hugging your shoulders. 《 I'll stay. We can watch a movie togheter.》

You look at him in surprise while he is reaching his phone. 《 and your date?》

《 you're my date》 , is the cheeky replay. The both of you smile, and you need a second. Not only because you're worried about brianna, but also because these small situations make you feel.... weird on your feelings towards noah.

You don't want to admit it, but a real date would be all you desire.

....but at what cost?

[thelvrsera]

Snowed In

Request : (yes)

Warnings : none

Paring : Jimmy Keene (black bird) x fem! Reader

Words : 1,622

a/n : its been snowing a lot recently where I am at, a whole whopping 9 Inches of white powdered rain lies outside my home as we speak. So why not incorporate it into this little fic.

Using female/female identifying terms! I can always edit it in post <3

The fall of the snow came heavy as the hours ticked by making the day feel a lot longer than it should have been . The expensive car that sat outside the front of house, was now covered by a thick coat of cold powder, the branches on the trees swayed as it carried the weight of the snow on its limbs. It never seemed to bother Jimmy a bit , but it did bother y/n to an extent. She hated the way it clung to her clothes , making everything slightly damp , or the way it would make getting to and from work the biggest fight of your life.

Nonetheless, it never seemed to suppress her mood as she was stuck behind the four walls of her boyfriend’s home , where it was warm and a random episode of Dawsons Creek played that they’ve both seen countless times. A book that once rested between nimble fingers laid face down on the dining room table , that was only picked up and read by Jimmy throughout the day. It was always rare to see him pick up any kind of book. A novel, an instruction manual, if it had words and a cover? He’d rather be dead than be caught reading any thing of the sort. y/n was the only one who knew about his secret love for reading , how he found it easier to pick up a book rather than leaving his house for a night on the town.

The book had remained untouched for about an hour , until Jimmy came waltzing into the living area with two wine glasses and a bottle of Chardonnay , humming a tune from a Frank Sinatra song as he sat both glasses on the coffee table and filled them a little under half way as he tossed the cork behind him somewhere amongst the room , possibly hidden behind the suitcases left behind the sofa from a vacation over the holidays. As Jimmy was satisfied with the contents in the glass, he lifted the woman’s legs up from their stretched state and had a seat , allowing her to stretch them back out across his lap. All she could do was close her laptop halfway and look at him as she sat up and grabbed one of the glasses holding the contents of the white wine. Y/n swirled the beverage around a little before sipping at it , a small hum of acknowledgement coming from her lips as she sat in thought for a moment.

“When did we buy a bottle of Chardonnay?” she spoke , curiosity striking her as she remembered skimming the cabinet for some type of wine , but there was none in sight .

All James could do was chuckle at her , remembering the hotel they stayed at that provided the bottle in a small bucket full of ice to keep it cool . “I swiped it from that hotel . No one else was going to drink it , and it was free . Win – win situation if you ask me” he had replied , his pearly white smile showing through plump pink lips as he gave a small smile before raising the glass to his lips and sipping at the alcoholic beverage.

Y/n’s eyes just followed his movements , the laptop now laid on the coffee table as admired the man on the sofa with her. The way the one vein in his bicep always protruded out of his arm as if he wasn’t wearing his own skin , like it was a hemmed seam of some sort. The way he delicately held the expensive wine glass between his fingers. It was unusual to see a man who possibly had the strength to tear apart a man from limb to limb , be so gentle with an object that could break so easily . It almost brought tears to her eyes at how delicate he could be with inanimate objects , how delicate he could be with her . She wondered how she got so lucky to be sitting here , to be loved by a man like him , it was a strange feeling to say the least , but her thoughts were disrupted as she heard him speak.

“y/n ? hello ? you alright there , honey ?” Jimmy asked , a wave of relief washing over him as she finally blinked . It was almost as if she was frozen , completely in a whole other world as she sat there , but he didn’t mind it at all . If it were up to him , he would sit there and stare at her all day.

Y/n let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding in as she nodded softly , a smile painting her features as she sat up a little , trying to get comfortable in the spot she was in . “yeah ! yeah , I’m alright . just… lost in thought I suppose “ she replied , playing with the cuffed end of the sweatshirt she was wearing that a size too big for her , signaling it belonged to the man on the other end of the sofa . It kept her warm to say the least , besides the pair of sleep shorts she was wearing which exposed the skin on her legs a little more than she was used too , but nonetheless , she was thankful it was warmer inside than it was outside.

Jimmy shuffled around on the sofa so he could face her , sitting with one foot tucked under him and the other planted on the floor as he leaned over to place his glass on the table . No one felt like cooking , and there was one takeout place that was still open , it had quickly became both of their favorite spot when they had started dating.

"Y'know we could order takeout , and watch one of those shitty comedies" Jimmy spoke , and quickly added "We don't have too , but if you're up for it , I can go and make the call real fast." He knew doing takeout every once in a while was thing they both liked , and y/n never turned it down for anything.

All she gave in return was a small nod in agreement , and she watched as he hopped off the couch and made his way into the kitchen to retrieve the number that was tucked away into a random drawer .

...

After take out was ordered and eventually ate , and the classic comedy Billy Madison was watched , both parties resigned on the couch for the rest of the night , too full to move and too tired to stay awake.

Jimmy was now rested on the couch as he used the arm rest as a place to rest his head as y/n used the man beneath her as a pillow of some sort , with a random throw blanket from the storage closet wrapped around them both to keep them warm . It was strange falling asleep at such an early time as 6:30 in the evening , the time change that occurred months ago made days short and nights longer , but y/n couldn't complain , she enjoyed days like this.

As the credits of the movie played , all y/n could do was drag her body up a little further so she could rest her head a little higher on Jimmy's chest , being able to hear his heartbeat against her ear , trying to memorize the pattern of the rhythm it gave , it was her favorite song , a song she never wanted to stop hearing whether it was now or forever. It was a song so soothing it was engraved into her brain.

Jimmy was half asleep as he played with the loose strands of the womans hair , letting every fiber tell him a different story , the whole "hair holds memories" theory playing a key factor in his mind. He kept fading in and out , between sleeping in short intervals and waking up for split second to keep twirling a section of y/n's hair between his middle and index finger. This was peace on Earth to him. No fighting , no arguing , and no distractions in between . It was just him , his lover , and the song playing from the ending credits of the comedy film displayed on the television.

Y/n looked up at the man for a moment before giving a small smile , admiring the sleepy state he was in , she knew there was no way in hell they'd move from this sofa until tomorrow . She leaned up and pressed a small kiss to his jaw , the only place she could reach him without moving too far and making him stir . Y/n whispered a small "i love you " to him before resting her head back upon his chest and falling into a deep slumber as more snow continued to fall right outside the window . There was no one else she'd rather be snowed in with than Jimmy.

___________________

a/n : WOO WOO FIRST FIC IN THE BAG! i actually feel really confident about this one , its by far my favorite thing i have written in my years of writing , it almost made me tear up a little writing it. It is just a little rushed as i had started writing it a couple days ago and lost my train of thought, but it all gets better from here!!

Thank you , anon , for such a beautiful request <3

[momobani]

Fire Brigade

THE WAY I hate YOU - chapter 4 - 11.4k

&team Nicholas x fem!reader - arranged marriage AU

SERIES MASTERLIST

Sum: as you settle into married life, you learn a lot about what it’s like to share your life with someone else. 

Warnings: swearing, sarcasm, mention of food and alcohol, they’re both cranky goofs in the morning idk, allusion to questionable parenting?, depiction of drunkenness  

Soundtrack rec: You’re So True - Joseph Arthur (Shrek OST) [there’s just something about this song, i can’t pin point it, just listen. i can just see a montage of their moments together as this plays haha] 

Taglist: @nichoswag @seokka0o @sseastar-main @hyuckslvr @ssshasssh

A/N: i know it’s been 84 years, i’m sorry but life was hectic - for some reason my note keeps getting eaten by tumblr (fu!) but basically - life = hard, nicho -> nico (as per his own request on weverse lol), enjoy <3

Being back in your new apartment was strange.

It felt like you’d never moved in in the first place before your honeymoon. You cleaned up a little after you returned, going grocery shopping together for the first time instead of singularly getting your own food and sticking it in the fridge. 

At the cashier, you almost asked to pay separately but then you realised how weird that would sound because you were so obviously involved and like who does that really? Nicholas whipped out his card before you could unzip your purse so you let him pay this time.

At least you drove there and back, happily abandoning the firetruck (Ferrari) in the underground parking, much to Nicholas’ pouty dismay.   

You still had several days off, mostly because there was a weekend when you returned and you’d strategically planned your time off to encompass that without burning your vacation days unnecessarily.

You had to admit, sleeping in in the morning was nice. 

In the morning you took time to watch some TV, sipping your coffee in front of the screen. You decided that you really needed to catch up on some work related stuff because you were going back to the office on Tuesday and you’d better be prepared. 

So you spread your papers out on the kitchen table, opened your laptop and got stuck in. It was fairly quiet in the apartment and you thought Nicholas was probably still sleeping. 

It’s a surprise when he walks through the front door some time later, a little sweaty and wearing basketball shorts and a sleeveless tank top. There’s a water bottle in one hand and you immediately know exactly where he’s been and what he’s been up to. 

“Hey,” he greets you, depositing the bottle on the counter. “what are you doing?” 

“Working,” you say, only glancing up at him. “what’s it look like I’m doing? Writing a novel?”

“Well, it could be but I doubt a novel-” he wanders past you and peeks over your shoulder. He gets kind of close and you can feel the heat radiating off his body. “-requires a contract for the sale of pharmaceutical supplies.”

“Y’know, you’d be surprised.” you reply. 

“You still have days off, why do work?” he asks, genuinely confused. You again imagined what kind of utopia Nicholas’ office must be if he really doesn’t get it. 

“It’s not a big deal, it needs doing ASAP anyway. Mind your business, dude.”

“Fine,” he raises his hands in surrender. “but I invited company, I didn’t know you were working.”

“It’s fine, I’ll move.” you say, marking where you’d left off and starting to sort things.

“Okay, but we might be quite loud. The guys are coming over.” he explains. “Are you sure that’s not going to disturb you? We can hang out in my room instead.”

“It’s alright, I’ve lived with pack animals back when I decided to have an authentic college experience.” you shudder, remembering the shit you’d been through. You wanted an experience, and oh boy, did you get one. Between the constant revolving door of strangers invading your apartment to the loud roommates you had, you’d really gotten used to noise.  

“Sometimes I really wonder what kind of life you’ve lived.” Nicholas muses, looking at you curiously, as if you were an animal at a zoo exhibit.

You shrug just as your buzzer goes off. Nicholas presses the button that unlocks the downstairs door. You take the first pile of papers and crap to your room, realising you’re going to need two trips to get everything. 

You put the first pile in your room but accidentally knock the first stack of maybe twenty pages down.

“Shit,” you mutter, crouching to pick it all up. You shouldn’t have taken the big clip off it. 

By the time you come back for the second pile of stuff and your laptop, your doorbell goes off and Nicholas opens the door. 

You watch as a group of dudes roll into your apartment, all in their uniform of shorts and t-shirts or tank tops. You recognise their faces from meeting them at your wedding, but you couldn’t match all the names you knew to the faces, except maybe for Jo, who had got the first-come-first-remembered privilege. 

“Oh, hey!” one of them notices you and greets you too as they come in. He has a big smile and several ear piercings. You try to place him to a name, he was either Yuma or Fuma but you can’t be sure. The rest of them notice you too and all offer you various greetings. 

“Maybe this a good time for proper introductions.” Nicholas suggests. “Guys, this is my wife, YN. YN, these are the guys.” he says unhelpfully. You raise your hand in a wave. 

“Hi,” you say. “you must be fire brigade.” you smile. The room full of confused faces almost makes you laugh. Nicholas does ask them to introduce themselves individually though, probably his attempt to dispel your sarcastic take. 

So the guy who greeted you was Yuma, not Fuma, who’s ironically standing next to him in a cute Pokemon t-shirt. There’s also Euijoo, who you recognise as Nicholas’ best man, Jo, who shyly gives you a tiny wave, and Kei beside Jo, which makes the two look like twin towers. Make that triplet towers, since Euijoo was next to them too. You wondered if their clique had a height requirement or something because most of them were giants.  

“It’s nice to meet you all,” you say, finally gathering your things and taking your exit. 

“We’ll save you some meat!” Nicholas calls after you.

“Thanks.” you say over your shoulder. 

You’re halfway through the corridor when you hear the exclamations fill the room. It reminded you slightly of teenage girl behaviour and you thought it was funny. 

“Wow, you guys are getting on better than we thought!” you hear possibly Euijoo say.

“Dude, you didn’t say your wife was so hot!” you think that’s Kei’s voice. 

“Kei, you were at the wedding?” Yuma chimes in.

“Yeah, but he was too busy flirting with everyone else to notice.” a deeper voice comes in, probably Fuma. 

“Well, I had to entertain myself somehow, the whole thing went on for hours.” Kei replies. 

“Yeah! It’s not Kei’s fault he was born a pathological flirt.” Euijoo says in solidarity. 

“Bro, never talk about another man’s wife if you want to live.” Nicholas warns, only half joking. You can’t help but crack a smile as you close your door to their ridiculousness.   

You kept working, the noise level mostly okay since you were a fair distance and closed door away, but occasionally you could hear their excitement, loud laughter and yells travelling through the apartment. 

You wondered when it got incredibly loud, what they were doing, howling at the moon or something? Who knows, it was a group of grown men; who really understands the mysteries of dude-bros hanging out together?  

*

Some weeks passed without incident, your lives finding routine sleeping, eating and working, as you manoeuvred around each other every day. Despite you being worried about living with a roommate again, for the most part you led your lives separately but not completely severed from each other.

You went to work at your respective companies then came home and occasionally had dinner together, sometimes you even watched TV together or did your recycling. There were days when one of you went grocery shopping and asked the other if you needed anything, days where you cleaned the whole apartment, splitting off chores so you could be done quicker. 

You were lured into a false sense of security, you had to admit. 

And being relaxed didn’t hurt, but accidents did happen. 

Like the day of the most important meeting of the calendar quarter. 

You were meticulous, setting your alarm, preparing your materials and picking out your attire. Going to bed the previous night was smooth sailing and you conked out with no anxiety in your chest for once. 

The morning you had your monster shot coffee and a crispy yet perfectly soft inside bagel while you reviewed the notes you left in the margin of the document drafts. You cleaned up, purposefully leaving the small of stack of papers on the counter where you would see it before leaving the house and take it with you, while you got dressed. 

While you did your hair, you did happen to think of something more to add, so you wandered to the kitchen, your hair half-pinned up with clips while you styled it. 

Except the pile was gone.

Your jaw dropped open. How could it be gone? It was right there not even fifteen minutes ago. It can’t have just disappeared, could it? 

Panic started to rise in your chest as you looked around the kitchen; maybe Nicholas moved it so it wouldn’t get dirty on the counter. You deduce he’s been in the kitchen since you’d left because there’s a washed bowl on the rack beside the sink that you didn’t put there. 

You don’t find the pile after a minute of looking, opening drawers, cabinets, scanning the tables and whatever else there was in your kitchen. 

There was simply one conclusion - your papers were gone. 

You could hear Nicholas was in the bathroom and you decide to just ask him instead. 

“Wang Yixiang!” you yell, trying to get his attention. Not a moment later, the door of the bathroom is thrown open and hasty footsteps echo down the hallway, the perpetrator probably horrified of your tone. 

Nicholas bursts into the kitchen, still in his pyjama bottoms and a hoodie with nothing underneath; he did that a lot as a random habit of his that you’d noticed. There’s a spattering of shaving cream on one side of his face and the razor is still in his hand. You had no idea what he was shaving off though; he never seemed to have anything on that stupidly handsome face of his.

“I’m sorry! Whatever I did, I’m sorry!” he says hurriedly before he’s even entered the room. He was clearly on the verge of freaking out at you calling his government name.  

“Did you happen to see a pile of papers that was on the counter?” you ask, cutting straight to it. 

“Papers?” he seems confused at the idea. 

“Yeah, I left a contract here, it was a small stack and had notes in the margin and tabs, but now it’s gone.” you say, starting to feel yourself grow desperate. 

Nicholas thinks for a moment, clearly unsure of what exact you’re talking about. How could that be though? He’s the only other person who could know what happened to it. 

“Hmm, let me see, I came to get cereal, got the milk out the fridge, then I hit my elbow, ate the cereal and after that I took out the trash since it’s trash day- oh no.” you look at each other in horror, then to the empty trash can beside the counter, brains putting in the missing pieces.

“Oh my god.” you breathe out. Then it hits you for real. “It’s trash day!” you exclaim, feet already moving of their own accord. You had to find that contract before it got taken away. 

“Don’t you have a copy?” Nicholas calls out, razor discarded while he stayed on your heels. 

“No! I told you, there was notes in the margin, and they’re super important and I have to have it with me today.” you were practically running down the corridor after you’d exited your apartment.

The two of you reached the elevator and you pressed the button, anxiety starting to make you sweat. 

“No time, stairs!” You announce, head spinning already, and turn when the elevator doesn’t come. You take two steps but Nicholas grabs your wrist to stop you.

“Are you crazy? We live on the tenth floor!” he snaps, holding you hostage. Before you can rebut, the elevator dings and the door opens. “See? C’mon!” you let him drag you in there, almost jumping out of your skin when you see your reflections in the mirror pane opposite the door.

Your hair was flying in all different directions, half of it styled, the other forgotten, while Nicholas paled as he swiped at the remaining cream on his face with a hoodie sleeve. 

“Just so we know what we’re dealing with here, hypothetically, if you didn’t have this contract…?” he says, trailing off. 

“The world won’t end but I may as well walk in there wearing a rainbow wig and a big, red clown nose and kiss this deal goodbye.” you describe. “Then I’ll have to answer to my parents, board of directors, and the entire department will be on my ass by the end of lunch because ‘nepo baby’ managed to fuck up the one job she had.” 

“They call you that?” Nicholas asks. You look away, counting down with the numbers of the floors that go by.

“Yeah, they do. Even though I have to work hard like them, it is my parents’ company. They’re right though, I’m not even sure what I’m capable of if it wasn’t for my parents making me work there.” you hated that you’d gotten to this subject, especially right now. 

“You still worked hard though, getting to where you are tod-”

“C’mon!” you ignore what he’s saying when the elevator finally dings as it got to the first floor and you drag Nicholas out as soon as the door opens.

You race toward the garbage storage space, heart thumping loudly; if Nicholas could just remember where he left the bag, in which container -

You open the door and find the garbage collectors already on the scene, rolling the large metal containers toward the street, where their truck was waiting. 

“Where did you throw it?” you ask desperately, looking around and seeing that some of the containers hadn’t left the premises yet. Nicholas looks like he’s about to faint. 

He doesn’t say anything but points in the general direction of the containers that are already sitting near the truck. You gulp thickly, realising what that meant. Somehow, it doesn’t disgust you and you act without thinking. 

“Excuse me!” you call out, trying to get one of the men’s attention. “Hi, sorry to bother you, but is it okay if we have a look at the trash? We threw away something important and it might still be around.”

The man hears you, turning around, giving you a once over, most definitely confused at your request. He considers it for a moment, then shrugs. 

“Knock yourself out.” he says. 

“I’m sorry, what?” Nicholas asks you as you drag him toward the containers. “Tell me we are not dumpster diving.” 

“Oh, but we are, roomie, we are.” you hum. He stands still in shock. You throw open the first container and flinch at the explosion of smell coming from the numerous black trash bags. 

“Are you deranged or something?” Nicholas shrieks when the smell hits his nose. 

“Listen, here:” you whip around to glare at him. “I am getting to that meeting with my contract, if it’s the last thing I’ll ever do. Now, dig, gremlin, dig!” you say through gritted teeth, turning back to the container. 

“You know what, don’t answer that. You must be.” he corrects when he sees you grab hold of the side, step up with your leg, and pull yourself up so you can reach inside the container. 

Now, normally you’d be so grossed out that you might have thrown up by now, but seeing as you could envision the embarrassment, tirade of disappointed faces of your parents, and sneering jeers of your colleagues, you started feeling up the trash bags without a second thought. You were going to worry about everything else later. 

Desperation makes even the most cowardly of dogs brave.

“What are you waiting for?” you bark back at Nicholas, who was just standing behind you, blinking dumbly. “Get in there and start looking!” you instruct. That seems to do it and Nicholas rushes over to the side of the adjacent container and flings it open, gagging at the smell but obediently rummaging around the bags.

There’s a tense minute while you try and feel your way through the container, looking for anything that might indicate paper on the inside, but you’re struggling to find anything. 

“Y’know,” you vaguely hear Nicholas grunt as he feels up a garbage bag. “I was just starting to like you but nevermind, I think I hate you.” he says as he squeamishly pushes away yet another bag. 

His comment doesn’t make you stop but it strikes a nerve. You knew he was probably talking shit because the two of you were practically knee and elbow deep in trash - in a reversed situation, you would too - but you were a little mad at him for not being more careful in the kitchen, and worse at yourself for ever leaving anything in there in the first place.  

“Trust me, the feeling is mutual.” you reply, just as huffy as him. 

You keep digging but find nothing, your world suddenly becoming bleaker and bleaker. You had already decided to call in late for work and try to remedy the situation before the big meeting later in the day. You could think of some of the stuff that was written, but you’d lost some of the most important details. Not to mention your concentration and preparation had all been flushed down the drain.  

“Hey, we’re going to have to get going now.” you hear the garbage man say behind you. You glance over your shoulder and he seems like he couldn’t care less about your situation.

“Yes, right, sorry. Just a second.” you plead, desperately reaching into the container in vain.

“We’re already behind schedule, ma’am, I’m going to need you to step away from the trash.” he replies. You realise you’re being a nuisance but you can’t help it.

“YN, c’mon, just give up, we can’t find it.” Nicholas materialises next to your container. He sounds tired and hopeless, just as you feel. 

“But…I,” you attempt, heart sinking. You know they’re right, you need to go. 

“C’mon,” Nicholas steps up to the container and holds out a hand to help you get down. Your shoulders slump but you let him pull you to the edge and practically lift you out of the dumpster, his strong arms wrapped around your waist as he guides your feet to the ground again. “Sorry for the trouble.” he mumbles to the garbage man. 

You’re too numb to say anything so you just sort of nod politely at him as Nicholas steers you away and back into the building.  

“Ugh, I stink so bad.” he groans, voice cracking. You wait for the elevator and when it comes, your neighbours file out, doing a disturbed double take at the sight and smell of the two of you. You don’t care about keeping up appearances right now, your dejection running too deep. 

What were you supposed to do now?

After a moment of silence when you get into the elevator, you feel Nicholas look at you, hesitating at probably how hostile you must look right now. You were fuming, mostly at yourself. 

“I’m sorry.” he says gently. “I really am.” 

You soften ever so slightly but can’t help the tenseness in your voice. 

“‘Sorry’ doesn’t bring back the notes, but thanks for trying to find them.” you say curtly, coldly even. You know it was an accident but it still made a mess. “I’ll make do with what I have.” 

You get back to your apartment, Nicholas heading straight to the bathroom but you stop him. 

“The smell won’t come out with water.” you warn.

“Then what do you propose?” he asks, genuinely curious. 

“Vinegar.” you state. “We’ll dilute some with water since it might be too strong and clean the smell off before showering.” It was an old home trick for getting rid of smells; vinegar was practically a miracle worker. 

And you do.

Armed with a cloth each, you stand in your bathroom trying to scrub yourselves clean from the essence of trash that crawled on your skin. It had permeated your clothes so those had gone straight into the washer, leaving you in your underwear. 

“Can you get my back?” you ask Nicholas, when your arms fall short of reaching behind you with the cloth. 

“Sure.” then his hands are in your hair, moving it to sit over your shoulder, while one rests there to stop it from moving back into the line of vinegar. He swipes the cloth over your skin, quickly reaching from the waistband of your underwear to your shoulder where he lingers. “You’re so tense, jeez.”

“Whatever, just keep go-” he doesn’t give you warning before starting to massage your shoulders.

You groan out loud as he teases out a knot in the muscle immediately. There’s a flush of embarrassment in your cheeks at the noise that just escaped your lips but Nicholas doesn’t seem to care as he keeps kneading your shoulders with his large hands. You contain most of your noises but a few quiet sighs leave your mouth as he works your shoulders.

“Can I move these?” he asks, tapping on your bra straps. Your brain has already shut down so you just nod.  

It was unexpected and even though your first instinct was to stop him and tell him to quit it, your body had its own opinion on the matter, shutting your mouth and relaxing under his touch as he slipped the straps off your shoulders. 

Your eyes flutter closed at one point, your body swaying in the direction that your husband applied some pressure to your back. You could feel the heat of his body next to yours, the warmth of his hands on your skin as he massaged your shoulders. 

“Feel better?” he muttered, mouth but a few inches from your ear, as he finished up.

“Much, thanks.” you sigh, coming back to reality. You do feel a little more warm in your cheeks than you should but you show no reaction. You reach for your straps but Nicholas beats you to it, sliding them back up your arms softly, his fingers grazing your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps. 

“Okay, now shower before you kill someone with that hair.” he chuckles, lightening up the mood. 

“What about you?” you turn to look at him. He shrugs, the bulk of his bare shoulders rising and falling.

“I have nowhere to be, don’t worry about me. Just get that smell out of your hair.” he instructs before vacating the bathroom. You’re left staring after him. 

You’d been mad at him just a smidge about the contract but he’d managed to ease his way back into your good graces with an apology and a massage. You guess it made sense; Nicholas was your friend now, and if any of your other friends did the same thing, sure you’d be a little mad but you’d forgive just as easily.

But there was something about the way none of your other friends would have done what he did, touch you like he did, stand close like he did. 

You banish the thought and scramble into the shower, aware of the ticking of the clock before your meeting. 

*  

You wondered why you’d agreed to come to family dinner at your house alone on Friday night. You should have really dragged Nicholas there so he could suffer with you, although of course, the hope was that with his presence, your parents would lay off you and focus on him, their precious, angelic son-in-law. 

He had let you know he’d made plans with the guys and offered you an alternate to family dinning, which you’d regretfully declined because you knew that your mother would never just let it go and would instead invite you to several consecutive family dinners and/or events to make up for the loss. 

You really were better sacrificing yourself for one evening than signing yourself up for a plethora of others.  

Regardless, you should have known better than to hope this would be a marginally pleasant evening. Without Nicholas there, your parents, mainly your mother, had taken to grilling you over entrées. And the main course. And you predicted dessert.  

“Are you being good to Nicholas?” your mother asks. “Have you been cooking and cleaning enough around the apartment?” she continues without pause. 

“Yes, mother.” you say. You weren’t lying, it’s just that you had an agreement to share everything fair and square with Nicholas, including all the chores, bills (mortgage too, naturally) and other expenses. 

“Are you sure?” she continues. “He’s got no reason to be mad at you, has he?” she inquires, her eyes unnaturally wide.

“No, mom, he doesn’t.” you say, regretting your decision to drive because now you couldn’t at least drown out some of the nagging with alcohol. 

“Then why didn’t he come along for dinner? You invited him, didn’t you?” 

You almost roll your eyes but hold back because she’s watching you. If she looked away more often, you’d probably get a headache from rolling your eyes. (Growing up under her roof, it had been the most common cause of your headaches. That and tension headaches.) 

“Yes, of course I did, but he made plans way before so he couldn’t cancel.” you explain for the tenth time. 

“Well alright then, I suppose.” your mother concludes. 

Finally, you think. 

The whole scene was eerily starting to resemble an episode of Gilmore Girls and you were in the role of Lorelai, fending off your mother.

She was practically treating you like devil spawn and Nicholas as if he was their own son and you had stolen him away and trapped him into a heinous marriage. You half wondered if you had dinner alone with the Wangs, was that how they’d treat you too? You could only guess they weren’t incredibly fond of you either from the way you’d initially refused to marry their perfect son. Clearly, parents, your own or other people’s, didn’t seem to like you very much.  

Your father and Maki were also at the dinner table, minding their food, and possibly fearing for their lives. You knew what they were like; if they were chewing, their ears seemed to close off. 

By the time you got to the main dishes, you’d fielded questions about Nicholas from your mother, and the apartment, but also work questions from your father, which you skilfully managed to not go into any detail on, lest he pick up on something being wrong at work. 

Maki helpfully tried to steer the conversation away too, asking random questions about the company, which your father was more than happy to answer because his youngest was taking an interest in the family business. You were grateful to Maki but you worried this might give your parents the green light into throwing him in there with you. 

Your father was plenty capable.  

He’d probably also hear about how your meeting had gone in the office - there’d been a lot of back and forth (which you’d instigated) to avoid getting to anything too serious while you still hadn’t recovered details of the contract you’d lost.

It had resulted in scheduling another meeting some time later, giving both parties time to reconvene and finalise their sides of the deal. 

By the time you finished the main course, your mouth was dry from all the bullshitting you had to do. As soon as you finish your portion of dessert, you figure it’s time to jet. 

“So, I should get going and go home, y’know, to the husband you picked out for me.” you start only half-sarcastically. “Thanks for the dinner,” and the shakedown, you think. “could I take some dessert for your beloved son-in-law? He likes this kind of thing.”

“Well, YN, I’m glad you’ve learned what he likes.” your mother says. You wait for her to finish her sentence before having any hope of even a tiny compliment. “You may take some home, but next time just bring him here for dinner, instead of taking home scraps and left overs, it’s embarrassing. As if you can’t afford a full meal.”

“Mom, I told you, he really had plans and I did beg him to come.” you fib, hoping it sells. 

“Alright, alright, I believe you.” she concedes. “But you shouldn’t beg your husband for things either, it sets for an awkward relationship and it’s embarrassing.” she continues. 

You should have known something mildly positive would be followed up in this manner. You sigh and wait for the house keeper to bring you a box for the dessert. 

You get up and get your things by the door, then hug Maki goodbye and ruffle his hair, whispering a quick “Hang in there, kiddo.” to which he just looks at you blankly, dimples popping. You felt bad leaving him there with the hyenas (your mother). “You poor thing.” you lament, patting his arm, as you put on your shoes.      

“Drive carefully,” your mother says after you say your goodbyes. “and don’t forget you have that charity event in a couple of weeks. You have to go with Nicholas.”

“Yes, I know. You told me several times already. It’s in my calendar.” you take the box of dessert and open the door. “Goodnight.” you call and leave before anyone can say anything more. 

As soon as you get inside your car, you let out a frustrated grunt, hitting your steering wheel with the palms of your hands, releasing a sound that would compete with wild animals. You just needed to get that out of your system because there was only so much pent up frustration you could take.

Once you calm down, you start the engine and go on your way. The dessert sits in the passenger seat as you precious cargo as you drive through the night, windows down, playing some songs you’d curated specifically for after family dinners. 

You sing along because the roads are empty and no one’s around to hear you sing like a strangled cat. It’s the exact catharsis you needed, expelling all that energy while the moon hangs full in the sky, so you’re in an improved mood by the time you walk through your front door. 

After you kick off your shoes, you go to the kitchen, slippers smacking loudly against the floor as you walk. The sound of your arrival must have alerted Nicholas because he appears while you’re getting a glass of water after depositing the dessert in the fridge. 

“You’re back earlier than I thought.” you observe, putting the glass down with a ‘click’ on the counter.   

“Yeah, the thing with he guys didn’t last as long as we thought so I came back early.” he explains, plopping down to sit at the counter. “How was dinner? You seem disgruntled.”

“Excellent observation.” you frown, thinking of the best word to describe the ordeal. “It was rather disagreeable.” you attempt. 

“Oh? That is most unfortunate, Mrs Wang. Something happen in particular?” he listens attentively. 

“Your mother-in-law says hello and sends her regards. Need I say more?” you raise your eyebrows at him. He’s wearing a loose grey t-shirt and looks sleepy already, which you note is odd because if you had learned anything about your husband, is that he was, by personal preference, nocturnal. 

“Ah, lovely.” he nods in understanding. “Sorry, I let you fly solo.”

“I wasn’t totally alone, Maki was there, but he can only say so much.” you say. “Anyways, I got you something.” you remember to bring out the dessert from the fridge again.

“Ooh, what’s that?” Nicholas perks up at the sight of the box. You almost laugh at his sudden rejuvenation.

“Dessert. The one with the strawberry sorbet.” you hum smugly when his eyes light up. 

“Wah, that’s great. Is it my birthday?” he smiles as you open the box and offer him a spoon. He seems to change his mind in a split second and his face falls, suddenly becoming serious. “Are you trying to poison me?” he interrogates, face full of suspicion.

You tilt your head sarcastically. “Totally. Tis part of my elaborate scheme to become a young widow.” you deadpan and start to take away the spoon but Nicholas stops you and accepts it. “Trust me - if I was going to poison you, you wouldn’t know about it.” you add, gulping down the rest of your water. 

“Well, that’s reassuring.” he hums while looking at the contents of the box.

“Bon appetit!” you give him a toothy smile and breeze past him. 

*

To say that mornings with Nicholas were a pain, would be a gross understatement. 

From what you’re seen on your honeymoon, your husband was most certainly not a morning person, but you had yet to see in detail just how grizzly the situation could get.

It was kind of ironic because Nicholas was a well put together guy; he knew what he was doing, worked hard at it and did it without a fuss. He seemed like the ultimate catch - young, rich, tall, handsome (others would say sexy too and you would agree, objectively only of course), funny, smart, polite, respectful, well mannered - but of course, nobody’s perfect and it didn’t take a genius to work out that mornings were Nicholas’ weakness.  

For the most part so far, the two of you had differing schedules and you barely ran into each other in the mornings, mostly taking turns in the bathroom if anything and giving each other a heads up if you were particularly in a hurry that day or the next day or whenever. 

Today however, you had a meeting of the boards of directors for your two companies. It was mostly oversight for the progression of the merger and a chance to hear from the heads of the companies to brief you on the vision for how the merger should go. Your and Nicholas’ presence was without a doubt mandatory and possibly even the highlight since everyone would be talking about you two. 

You woke up like clock work, a couple minutes before your alarm and stretched out like a cat before getting up to hunt for coffee (your cavemen ancestors would be shocked). You walked past Nicholas’ room and heard his alarm going off, relieved that supposedly he’s awake. 

Supposedly. 

The coffee machine whirs quietly as you prepare two cups since you figured Nicholas would want coffee too, but you don’t hear his door opening or in fact, any noise from his room. You pad over to the corridor to listen out and pick up the sound of a second alarm. It sounds promising so you don’t think too much of it and go back to drink your coffee.

It’s been ten minutes when you decide that something is wrong with Nicholas. 

You leave your half drunk coffee and his untouched one on the counter and go knock on his door.

“Yo, Nico, you awake?” you call out. You strain your ears to hear a response, leaning onto the door itself. You hear an unmistakeable groan. “I know you’re alive and in there, now get up!” you shout, hoping the louder the message, the more likely it is to get through to him. 

You leave to finish your coffee but when he still doesn’t get up, you roll your eyes and stack your cup on the pile of dirty dishes waiting to be put into the dish washer. 

“That’s it.” you mutter, determined to make him shift. You fill a glass with cold water, stopping by the freezer for ice and then make your way back to Nicholas’ room. 

You were starting to worry that you were going to be late for that stupid meeting since it was already a quarter to eight.   

You bang on his door almost violently. “Wang Yixiang, get your dumb ass up or else!” you call to another groan of what sounds like ‘go away’. Your blood pressure spikes and you snap. “I warned you, I’m coming in.” 

And you yank the door handle and enter the room. 

You find Nicholas in just pyjama pants, sprawled face first in his bed, blankets and sheets tangled up like a war zone while he hugs an extra pillow and a wolf plushie sits on the opposite side of the bed against the headboard. His hair is a mess and splays all over his face and pillow as he still dozes despite your loud attempts at intervening. 

You hesitate for a second because he looks so peaceful, then you remember that you have somewhere to be.  

“This is a warning shot.” you say and dip your fingers into the water to grab hold of an ice cube.

You launch the ice cube unceremoniously and it plops onto Nicholas’ bare back. He jolts at the contact and a low moan sounds from the back of his throat. Your eyes widen as you feel a wave of queasiness wash over your lower abdomen. 

What the fuck did you just do? Did you press the wrong button? Is he malfunctioning? Does he need to go for an MOT check like a car? 

The noise sent you reeling and you wanted to run away but the ice cube did nothing. It just sort of slid off of his back and he shuffled a little, getting comfortable again. You sigh and nod to yourself. You hoped it wouldn’t need to come to this.

“Right.” you say. Without another moment to lose, you hold out the glass over Nicholas’ bare torso and tip your wrist so the water comes spilling out.

The water splashes all over his back and it sends Nicholas flying up with a piercing screech. 

“What was that for!” he yelps, shaking off the water off his back and reaching for a blanket to wipe it off. You would stay to have a full conversation about this, but you’re already on your way out. 

“You’re late.” you chastise. “And if you’re late, then I’m late. Now get up or I’ll come back with a bucket.” you warn as you sweep out of the premises.

“You know you’re meaner in the mornings!” he calls out after you. 

“Thanks!” you reply over your shoulder. 

Needless to say, you usher Nicholas into your car ten minutes later, him almost dressed as he finishes buttoning up his shirt and does his tie in the car, then styles his hair in the passenger seat using your overhead mirror. You try your best to avoid a pothole but manage to run straight over it by accident. Your car jolts and Nicholas groans in frustration when his hair swishes in a different direction. 

“You couldn’t let us be fashionably late.” he mutters. 

“I’m never late. Fashionably or otherwise.” you inform him. “Get used to it, hubby; you roll with me now.” you say as you manoeuvre the steering wheel. 

“Alright, got it, Sergeant.” Nicholas holds up a hand as if swearing an oath.

“Next meeting, we might even make it on time.” you sass back as you pull up to work and exhale. 

This was going to be a long day. 

*

Before you could blink, it was the last day of the calendar quarter and you were dreading it because it’s the day that you and your uncle gather to have coffee and talk about work, less in a boss and employee way and more of an uncle-niece thing. It was the first time you’d ever felt apprehensive to talk to your uncle since he’d had a part to play in your arranged marriage and you were still disappointed in him.  

You’d always been closer to your uncle than your parents as far as you could remember. Probably because he didn’t keep you on a leash and command you around but respected your independence. He’d even tried to stop you from going to law school unless it was definitely what you wanted. You had no idea why he’d done that at the time (you were still in high school), but after a few years, you now appreciated the gesture.

Now, you weren’t so sure what he was going to be like after letting your parents push you to Nicholas. You still remembered his face that day; impassive as if he didn’t care about you at all. There was a still a lingering feeling of betrayal when you thought about what your uncle had done.

You took your normal route to company rooftop, your coffee mug hot in your hand as you made your way outside. 

Your uncle was waiting at your usual table, the tiny one at the end of the row closest to the edge of the rooftop balcony. From there, you could see out to the city and watch the sun set. It was just after work hours officially ended so the cafe at your company had closed already but you each bought a mug from your offices and sat down.

You walk up to the table as briskly as your coffee would allow you and sit down in the empty chair. 

“Hi, uncle.” you attempt. He half-smiles, his fond demeanour unchanged as always. 

“Hello, YN.” he replies. “Are you ready for a chat?” 

The question hangs in the air, for some reason, you feel it entails more than your usual this and that about work. 

“Sure.” you say, cautious. 

You end up telling him about some of the finalised negotiations you made this quarter and catching him up on some of the cases you’d been assigned. After a while, it feels natural and you confess that you’d messed up a little with that contract but you don’t tell him it involved Nicholas.

In fact, you don’t mention Nicholas at all and try to move on as if there was no massive elephant in the room. It’s definitely starting to annoy you, skirting around the subject but you try to stay steadfast despite how it irks you.  

Your uncle figures it out anyway. 

“Something bothering you, dear?” he asks, voice totally unintrusive.

“Not really,” you lie, but your eyes shift to your half-drunk coffee. Your uncle sighs and puts his mug down.

“Listen, YN, I’m not a fool, we should talk about it.” he says. “I know you’re probably displeased with me for pairing you up with Nicholas, but you’ll just have to find it in your heart to accept it.” he continues. “I am not expecting your forgiveness, although I would be relieved to hear it. What was done was for your own good. I hope one day you’ll be able to see that.”

It hurts to hear the same rhetoric from your uncle as it came from your parents; the whole ‘for-your-own-good’ thing made you want to pull your hair out, yet you realise that coming from him, it feels all the more painful. 

“I understand that you’ll keep giving me a cold shoulder and I’m okay with it, I suppose, but I need you to remember that everything is temporary.” he meets your eyes. You sense something odd for a moment when he says that, but you don’t react. “Besides, you might even end up liking Nicholas, he’s a good boy.” 

That seems to spur you into action.

“Uncle, it’s not about that.” you reply adamantly. “Nicholas is great, he’s really not the problem. The problem is that you still let my parents dictate such a huge decision in my life - I trusted you to not do such a thing. You’re better than that.” 

Your uncle pauses for a moment. “You agreed eventually, didn’t you?” he asks simply. 

“Well yes, but it was because I was scared they’d do something to Maki. You know they would pick on him if it wasn’t for me.” you argue. 

“YN, your parents are complicated people, but they’re not quite as evil as you believe them to be.” your uncle says gently, the way you try to talk to little kids and rationalise a situation which they find stupid (and usually have a right to find as such).  

“Well, you’re related to one of them, you kind of have to say that.” you remind him, rejecting his philosophy.  

“I’m saying it because it’s true. Try to understand them a little more. Alright?” he pleads. 

You look at your uncle and see that he’s trying - he’s trying to be the bridge in this family and you have to give him something to work with. 

You nod reluctantly, not because you agree with him or want to understand your parents, but because you wanted to go easy on him for the sake of not creating issues in your family as a whole. Sometimes you couldn’t have compromises and you needed to be more patient and the bigger person. 

You knew where he was coming from; of course people are complicated and do things for complicated reasons, including hurting their loved ones. You believed that it was possible that it could be true they weren’t so bad but also true that some people just weren’t nice, weren’t kind, weren’t understanding by nature. 

In that line of thought, it wasn’t even about the specificity of your situation. It was that you knew there’s truly nothing completely black and white in the world - your relationship with your parents had always been full of greys, differing shades of blurriness contorting your feelings towards them for your whole life. 

You put the topic down quietly and resumed chatting about this and that, the whole thing weighing you down just a bit before you concluded and bid your uncle goodbye, going home immediately after that, although you’d planned to stay longer. 

“Fuck overtime.” you hum as you get into your car. 

The rest of your evening is fairly quiet, you cook dinner for yourself after Nicholas sends you a text about a haphazard night out with his friends and to not wait up for him. It’s completely fine by you since you really needed some time alone to stew about everything; your conversation with your uncle had sent you spiralling.

Were you being unreasonable? Should you be less angry at your parents for setting you up with Nicholas? You’d meant it when you said he was great, not that you’d say that to his face ever and watch it become smug and delighted. 

The thought passes as quickly and fleetingly as it had come. You were dead set in your bones to resent your parents because what they did was wrong - it was about your autonomy as a person and they’d violated that on some level. You acknowledged your agreement only to the point of technicality - yes, you’d gone through with it willingly despite hating the situation. 

That was then. Now it was a couple of months later and the extremity of the feelings had died down and you were occasionally forgetting their misdeeds, so your meeting with your uncle had served as a reminder that you shouldn’t forget or really forgive it just because nothing awful had happened. Or at least yet (you knew nobody was insured about anything).  

It gets late around midnight before you hear your front door unlocking.

You were just sitting on the couch, watching TV, a rarity in your busy life, when you hear several sets of footsteps stumbling into the house. There’s hushed voices shushing after a particularly loud noise. 

“Nicholas?” you call out, switching off the screen and getting up to check out the situation. 

“Honey, I’m home!” Nicholas yells loudly before even seeing you. The tone is shrill and very alarming and makes you freak out immediately.

In the hallway you find a quartet of men, your husband amongst his friends, the fire brigade. Nicholas is standing- no- leaning on Kei, clearly out of his mind, as well as a complementary identical Euijoo and Fuma, the latter supporting the former in his arms. Their clothes all seem to have the marks of some drizzle and you deduce that it must be raining outside.

You make a face, taking in the scene. “What the fuck is wrong with him?” you ask generally to the presumably slightly sober parties, already knowing the answer. There are a couple of guilty looks exchanged between Kei and Fuma.

“He’s drunk.” Kei admits sheepishly. 

“I figured, how bad is it?” you ask. 

“Baby, what are you talking about?” Nicholas interjects, eyes glazed over as he leans his head on Kei’s shoulder. “I feel great!” he grins. There’s a wildness in his eyes that makes you worry. You don’t even spare a thought on the name calling.  

“He had a bit.” Fuma offers but he seems uneasy to elaborate. 

“How much is ‘a bit’?” you push for details, sceptical.

“A glass.” Kei says. 

“Of what?” 

“Tea.”

“What kind of tea?” you interrogate, already knowing the answer.

“Long island ice tea.” Kei mumbles, lowering his eyes to the floor. 

“You let him drink what!” you exclaim, outraged. “Of all the things you could have had, how on Earth did Nicholas end up having a cocktail with four types of alcohol in it?” you shriek.  

You look at Nicholas, who has been clinging to Kei, hanging off him like a little koala. Euijoo cringes at the volume of your voice as he seems to doze off on Fuma’s shoulder.

“We’re sorry. It was kind of an accident.” Fuma says, clearly ashamed. 

You had never drunk with Nicholas before, save for the tiny bit of wine at his parents’ and the sip of champagne at your wedding, so this was a serious shock. Was your husband a serious lightweight? Did you even know him? Clearly you had only scratched the surface of Nicholas trivia if this had never come up till now. 

“Yeah, he’s not really built for alcohol.” Kei says apologetically. 

“But it’s okay, we’ll take care of him, and Euijoo.” Fuma adds quickly.

You look at the way Euijoo is basically sleeping in Fuma’s arms, surprised that Fuma can hold him up so well when Euijoo is a few inches taller. Kei on the other hand seems to be struggling with Nicholas’ affection - while you were talking, there was an attempted piggy back that Kei had to gently fend off. On closer surveillance, Nicholas seemed to be a clingy drunk with a bad case of grabby hands.  

“No, it’s fine.” you find yourself saying. “I’ll take care of him, I did marry this mess. He’s my responsibility now.” you tell the elder two. You couldn’t imagine the ruckus they would collectively make so you decided it was better that you just take over. 

Kei’s eyes light up in gratitude while Fuma seems even more guilty while cradling Euijoo’s head to his shoulder. 

“Are you sure?” Fuma asks, his voice full of concern. You nod reassuringly.

“You guys can go, I’ll make sure he’s okay.” you insist. Despite meeting them for the third time today, you most certainly were strangers and you didn’t really want them hanging around your house, even if they were Nicholas’ friends. 

“You’re a badass, YN, thanks.” Kei gushes while guiding, more like carrying, Nicholas to the couch. You give him a nod of acknowledgement while standing between the hallway and living room. 

Euijoo seems to stir, clearly having some kind of sonar or telepathy or something because as soon as Nicholas is a few feet away, his eyes open and he looks around as if he lost something.

“Noooo,” Euijoo whines, trying to follow. “don’t take my bestie away…” his attempt is curtailed by Fuma, who pats his back gently. 

“Nico’s home, Joojoo, don’t worry about it. You’ll see him tomorrow.” Fuma explains. “Sorry about this, YN.” he says to you when Kei comes back. Euijoo seems dissatisfied with the current chain of events but pouts about it quietly. 

“Right, he’s all yours.” Kei says before going to stand on Euijoo’s other side and take some of his weight off Fuma. “Let’s get you home, buddy.” he puts one of his arms around his shoulder and the three of them start to make for the door. 

You open it helpfully and stand aside, letting the two older men half-carry, half-drag Euijoo away. 

“Thanks for bringing Nico home in one piece.” you say as you bid them goodbye. 

“Good luck.” Fuma gives you a ‘fighting’ gesture with his closed fist in solidarity.

“Thanks, I think I’m going to need it.” you bid them goodbye and close the door, bracing yourself for what lay ahead. 

In the living room, Nicholas has managed to stay where Kei left him, splayed all over the couch like a pancake, staring upwards. You round the couch and assess the situation; he’s very much out of it, eyes unfocused and mouth ever so slightly opened as if he was fascinated with the colour of your ceiling.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” you begin. You decide to get some water and painkillers for the inevitable hangover he’s going to get in a few hours. 

There’s a moment of silence while Nicholas shuffles, sitting up but still leaning into the shape of the back of the couch. He seems to register you talking to him, which by the time you stand in front of him with the glass of water, makes him animate suddenly, his body switching gear. 

“YN!” he says, as if shocked. 

“Yes?” you offer him the glass but he doesn’t seem to notice. 

“Let’s go dance outside!” he exclaims, his face bright with excitement. He starts to get up but seemingly feels dizzy since he flops back down on the couch, clutching his head. You blink at him, unable to understand the thought process. The request was neither here nor there, really. 

“We can’t.” you say simply. “It’s raining. See?” you point toward the window where the drizzle seems to have escalated and the drops are sliding down the glass. 

“Yeah, well it rains inside too.” he mumbles when you put his suggestion down.

“Y’know, I’m not sure it does.” you hum, amused at the comment while you place the glass on the coffee table. 

“But the shower,” he insists. “it’s inside rain.” he says. You purse your lips, biting back a laugh at how convinced Nicholas seems that the shower is really rain. 

“Okay, alright.” you say, nodding to yourself. “Let’s get you to bed, you need to sleep this off.” you start to lean down to take hold of his arm.

“I don’t want to sleep.” he whines immediately. Instead, he takes hold of your arm and looks up at you with big eyes. “I’m hungry.” he pouts. 

“Okay, what do you want to eat? I’ll make it for you.”

“You will?” his eyes light up with delight. “I’ll eat anything you make.” 

The way that alcohol seems to keep its chokehold on Nicholas suggests to you that you should probably opt for something that will ease the problems that would follow.

“Hangover soup it is.” you state, trying to shake Nicholas off so you can get to the kitchen. 

When he doesn’t let go, you sigh and tug him up by the hands so he stands up. You help him stumble across the room to the kitchen part and sit him down at the counter where he slumps immediately and rests on his crossed arms, looking up at you, the dopey look resting on his face. 

You start to gather the ingredients, which thankfully your fridge contained because you’d been shopping yesterday, but that’s when the babbling starts. 

Nicholas seems to have found some new energy because once his mouth opens, it doesn’t seem to close. 

“Is that beef? Oh my god, it is, I love beef. Are you going to cook the beef? ‘Cause I know this killer recipe for a beef stew and you just have to try it. I used to have it as a kid but my parents never made it for me, it was always this nanny I had and she was awesome. I really miss auntie, YN, I really miss her. She was the best. Are you going to make the beef like she did? Maybe you can get the recipe from her, oh! You should meet her, she’d love you!” and as much as you wanted to listen to everything, your brain sort of switched off when he got on another tirade as you started slicing the cabbage and other veggies for the soup. 

He starts to run out of steam by the time you get to putting the sauce you prepared on the beef and the cabbage and he just sort of leans on the counter, face in the palm of his hands and watches you. 

Then comes more absurdity. 

Nicholas giggles distinctly and smiles to himself. 

You only react out of concern, putting the lid on the pot. “What is it?” you ask. 

He shakes his head bashfully and doesn’t say anything but continues smiling. 

“Fine, don’t tell me.” you mutter, putting the broth to the beef and adding the cabbage. You’re starting to feel a little paranoid; was he laughing about your cooking? You knew you weren’t a Michelin chef, or even as good as he was in the kitchen, but you weren’t that bad, right? 

“Hmm, I’m happy.” he says, fingers squishing his own cheeks. 

The statement takes you by surprise. 

“You’re drunk.” you correct, unsure what to make of it. 

“Don’t you wanna know why I’m happy?” he leans forward, as if trying to get your attention. 

You shrug on reflex. “Happiness is fleeting and overrated.” (as is alcohol within your system). 

“Boooo! Why are you like this, huh? You’re so cute, you should be happy too!” he insists. You side eye him but let him continue. “My cute wifey should be happy, like me. Let’s be happy together!” he laughs, as if he just solved the world’s problems. 

You stare at him, slightly horrified because a) who the hell was he calling his ‘cute wifey’ ‘cause that sure as hell wasn’t you, and b) how would you be happy together when you were living in a loveless marriage?  

“Nicholas, I don’t-”

“No! Stop it! I won’t hear it, I want everyone to be happy. End of discussion.” he babbles, clapping his hands together once, as if he’s hitting a slate. 

You’re baffled - you’d forgotten what it was like to talk to drunk people.  

You hate the way his words pierce through your thick skin and land somewhere soft where it hurts. You knew he was drunk, but he must be drunker than you thought.

If anything, his declarations made you sad because who knew what the future holds? You didn’t dare fantasise these days, for fear that if you did daydream, everything in your life would fall apart and you really would spend a life time with Nicholas instead of finding the love of your life. Would that bring you the happiness you’ve been brainwashed to expect in life? 

Despite yourself, you held on to the belief that whoever it was, this figurative love of your life person, they were out there and you might still have a chance to find them even if you were or had been married to Nicholas. The thought was a sick and twisted hope as you prepared the soup, quietly hating yourself for thinking it while you were just hanging out with the man that was for the present circumstances, your husband. 

You couldn’t reason with the guilt; its grip was too strong but you were a romantic at heart and nothing that had happened between the two of you had been romantic, at least in your view. Being forced to marry each other wasn’t exactly romantic, was it? 

Your soup is finally ready and you turn off the heat, bringing out a bowl. Nicholas has been lying on the counter, his cheek against the cold surface while he sits in one of the tall chairs surrounding your island. The clang of the lid seems to shake him and he straightens up then stares at you suddenly with a newfound focus. You start to think there’s some dirt on your face. 

“You’re so pretty with your hair like that.” he notes, as if it just occurred to him. You almost spill the soup in your hands as you process the random compliment. You don’t think much of it though, because this is how you wore your hair almost every day so it was definitely some unconscious thought fuelled by that wretched cocktail. 

“Eat up.” you instruct, putting the steaming bowl in front of him. He grins at it, as if it was his first born child. You make a mental note to never bring alcohol in the house. 

“Thanks!” he says happily but instead of digging in, he starts to pat his pockets. 

“What are you looking for?” you ask, sure you were going to have to solve this one. 

“My phone,” he says, searching his pockets to no avail. “but I can’t find it.” 

You sigh heavily and reach to your right, picking up the device and holding it out to Nicholas. It had been sitting on the counter the whole time, but how could you expect his drunk ass to see it?

“Ah! Great.” he says and takes it, holding it up to the bowl. “I have to take a picture, my cute wifey made me a meal.” he giggles. You want to scowl at the new nickname but the goofy way he says it makes it hard for you to fight a smile trying to break through. 

“Watch it or it might be the last meal I make for you.” you warn, no force behind your words. 

You let him eat, just relieved that he’s not saying any more weird things. His battery had run out a while ago so he hadn’t been so bad when he was just resting on the counter. You were already thinking ahead about how you were going to get him to sleep. Drunk people tended to get sleepy after a while so why hadn’t he yet? 

The conundrum bothers you while Nicholas finishes eating. 

“Are you ready to go to bed?” you test the waters tentatively. 

“Nah, I’m not sleepy,” he says while a yawn follows.  

“Oh thank god.” you sigh in relief at the yawn. His brain might be saying he’s not sleepy but his body sure was; you just had to wait for his brain to catch up. 

“What?” he asks. 

“Nothing.” you say quickly. “Well, let’s get you to your room, I won’t make you sleep.” you lie. 

It’s barely a trek to his room but you definitely struggle through the hallway because Nicholas for some reason thinks that he’s the size of a tiny lap dog and you practically carry him to bed. You almost manhandle him to lie down, his body falling limp onto the mattress and you pull the blanket over him before he gets any ideas of getting up. 

“Hang on a sec,” you tell him, going to get the water, painkillers and a bowl in case any of the iced tea or stew makes a reappearance. “Alright, do you need anything before I go?” you ask. 

“There is one thing,” he says after a moment. “come closer.” he says quietly. You worry he might try to snuggle you to death but you indulge him, perching on the edge of his bed. You lean closer, listening. Nicholas looks up at you. “I have to play Mario Kart right now, YN. It’s life or death.” he pleads. 

You straighten up immediately, your blood pressure wavering. 

“Oh, it’s life or death, alright.” you mutter. “Might kill your dumb ass if I ever catch you drinking again.”

That seems to change his mind pretty quickly and you can almost see his non-existent tail curl between his legs.

“Alright, if you need anything, just shout, I’ll leave the doors open.” you tell him. “Goodnight.” you start to get up but he catches your hand before you can step away. 

You’re surprised and think he must have thought of something so you turn, watching him expectantly. 

“Don’t go.” he says in a small voice. It was possibly one of the lowest decibels you had ever heard him talk at. 

“Why? Don’t you want to sleep?” 

“I don’t want to be alone.” he admits quietly. His voice makes something lurch in your chest. You gulp, considering his request.

“Okay, I’ll stay until you fall asleep.” you promise, sitting back down. 

Nicholas nods and cozies up in his blanket, still not letting go of your hand. 

You watch him for a moment; his eyes are closed and his chest is falling and rising steadily as if he’s already asleep but you know better from the python grip of his hand around yours. There’s something peaceful though in his expression despite that, the same tranquillity that had made you hesitate before waking him up some time ago. 

His words echo in your mind and for a second you let your heart break a little because you knew that you were luckier - you had Maki, but Nicholas was the only heir in his family. You were older but you didn’t exactly remember a time that you didn’t have Maki in your life. You wondered what it was like to grow up alone, missing the presence of a sibling.

After a few minutes, Nicholas seems to drift off, his hand loosening but still wrapped around yours. You want to untangle yourself and go but you worry about waking him, so you slide to the floor and sit against the side of the bed instead, predicting that he’d move around in his sleep and you best avoid that or he could wake up from that too. 

What you don’t expect is that you drift off too. 

You wake up in the middle of the night for a second but it’s only to shift around, your brain not registering that you’re sleeping on the floor in someone else’s room. 

The next time you wake up is in the morning, you can tell by the light in the room, but you’re no longer on the floor. You’re lying in a bed, a blanket thrown over you that you’d been snuggling into. You inhale the smell of the pillow and blanket you’re cocooned in and your eyes snap open. 

You forgot this wasn’t your bed.

You flail about with desperation as you sit up and notice that beside you and the cute wolf plushie positioned next to your pillow like a guard dog, Nicholas’ bed is missing its Nicholas. You glance at the clock on the bedside table and do a double take; it’s around eight, on a weekend, and Nicholas was already out of bed? 

“Did the sun rise in the west?” you wonder out loud, flicking off the blanket and getting up. 

When you open the door of his room and pad into the hallway, you can already hear the distant clattering around in the kitchen. You smooth a hand through your hair and make your way there. 

If it wasn’t for the time of day, the image you were seeing wouldn’t be out of the ordinary; Nicholas did spend time in the kitchen cooking too, knowing his way around confidently. Yet, what you were seeing makes you suspicious. 

Nicholas notices you coming and gives you a sheepish greeting. 

“Morning, you hungry?” he asks. 

“Uh,” you let your brain buffer. It felt like a trick question. “I guess.”

“Good, I made breakfast.” he turns back to put the finishing touches on the meal while you sit down at the counter, hesitatingly. 

On closer inspection, he does seem hungover - his movements are a little slow and his slouch is visible unlike his usually good posture, but otherwise, there’s no sign of last night’s drunken Nico. 

You’re presented with a cup of coffee from your machine, just the way you like it, then a plate of fruit cut up and arranged neatly and finally a pretty large stack of pancakes with a little chocolate sauce that spells out ‘sorry :(’. 

“I really am sorry.” Nicholas adds for good measure, twiddling his thumbs opposite you at the counter. 

You can’t help but smile at the pancakes a little because they really were cute.   

“You’re forgiven.” you say. “Just please never consume alcohol ever again, thanks.”

“You got it.” he promises.  

~

more memes!!! chapter 4 edition <3

A/N: thanks for reading, feedback is always appreciated <3 yn finally met the fire brigade! yes i know i didn’t write in taki and harua, that was deliberate, it’s not that i don’t love the babies, it just doesn’t make sense for them to be in this chapter haha, they will appear, i promise. also the vinegar thing is true - it’s good for getting rid of smells, just fyi.

*copyright 2021- © momobani 

[kristannafever]

Second Chances - 9

Kristanna Modern AU Rated: Explicit WC: 2021

Chapter Index

----------------

“This is happening!” Anna squealed. 

Kristoff laughed.  “It is!”

“I can’t wait,” she said, hugging him around the neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

He basked in the warmth of her kiss and the glow of her happiness.  It had only taken about two weeks for them to plan the entire wedding, and in one short month, they were going to be wed.

“And I’m glad that works for our sisters to take time off to fly home,” she said, pulling out of his embrace and going back to her laptop where she had just finished booking the venue. 

Kristoff was too.  It was a worry when they brought it up with their sisters that they would find work too demanding for the short time frame, but as luck would have it, they were both able to make the trip and take an extra couple of days beforehand to help them prepare. 

-----

They picked a Ranchers Hall in a small rural town about a half hour outside of the city.   It was perfect for Anna’s vision of a country winter wedding.  And while the place was rather small, it didn’t matter since the only people they were inviting were family and only the closest of friends.  All in all, about forty guests.

His sister and Anna’s sister were going to serve as the best person and maid of honor, and it was decided by Kristoff (and greatly appreciated by Anna) that his parents were going to walk with both him and then Anna down the aisle.  As soon as the ceremony was complete, they were going to do some family photos outside while the venue changed the rows of chairs out for tables and started the bar and serving guests.

The flowers Anna chose were white roses because they symbolized the purity of their love and the new beginnings they were having at life with each other. 

The meal they decided on was either prime rib or salmon as per the guest’s choice, and the caterer they had booked also offered appetizers for the cocktail hour and late-night pizza and popcorn for inebriated party goers.  Kristoff thought it would be a good idea to personally pay for the pre-dinner drinks and then charge a toonie bar afterward and to offer pre-paid cab vouchers to anyone who didn’t want to stay in the town’s small hotel so there was no worry of anyone drinking and driving.

Anna had argued briefly with him about the cost of the wedding as he was handling it all, which turned into a rather deep conversation about how he’d lived with his ex.  He told Anna the sad truth that they never really did anything.  They never even went on a vacation together.  Not that he didn’t want to.  It was all his ex.  She had a group of friends from high school she was still extremely close with, and her vacation time was spent solely with them.  At the beginning he didn’t mind too much, thinking it would be nice to have those quiet weeks here and there to himself, then time went on and when he’d brought up her using her time to go somewhere with him, her reaction had been reluctance and confusion; since they lived together already, why would she give up these trips with her friends to spent more time with him.   So she kept taking vacations with her group and Kristoff saved a ton of money over the years for not going anywhere. 

Upon hearing about this, Anna’s face went deep scarlet and she sat there with her teeth clenched frowning at him.

“You know,” she started, “I have a lot of things in my mind that I could say about that, that I want to say about that, then I think of where we are now, how I don’t want to spend another second of my life without you by my side, and I realize that it doesn’t really matter, does it?”

Kristoff shook his head.  “Nope.”

Anna sighed, letting go of her anger.  “I will never not appreciate the second chance at love that I got to have with you, Kristoff.  You are my soulmate and I love you more than anything.”

“I love you too.”  He leaned in and kissed her, then pulled his head back and arched an eyebrow.  “That got you kinda mad eh?”

She nodded.  “A little, I guess.  I just don’t like hearing about you getting mistreated.”

“Well, same here, but you know that.”  He smirked at her.  “Care to take out any pent-up aggression on me?”

Anna’s eyes lit up.  “What do you have in mind?”

He put his mouth close to her ear.  “Why don’t you fuck my brains out?”

Anna shuddered.  “How would I do that exactly?”

He shrugged.  “Use your imagination.  My body is your playground.”

She smiled at him wickedly.  “Damn right it is.”  Then she kissed him forcefully.

They began to undress each other when Anna interrupted told him she wanted to go to the bedroom.  Shedding the remainder of their clothes as they went down the hall, they arrived in their room fully naked and attached at the lips. 

Kristoff pressed her down onto the bed, crawled over her, and began kissing his way down her body.  She smiled.  She would definitely have her way with his body as she saw fit, but she was not about to deny the pleasure that his mouth gave her. 

She curled her fingers into his impossibly soft hair, moaning loudly as his tongue lashed out against her clit.  Her back arched as he worked his mouth, and while she was enjoying the hell out of it, she grew impatient to have him.

When she gently tugged his hair, he stopped and looked up at her.  “I need you now,” she whispered.

“How do you want me?” he asked, sitting up.

“On your back.”

Anna moved and he took her place, laying down in the middle of the mattress.  She crawled over him and took a moment to kiss him passionately before she started. 

Moving slowly, she slid down onto his cock with a passionate and somewhat desperate moan.  It amazed her how she seemed to forget in between the moments they were not making love how good it actually felt to have him inside of her.  There was nothing in the world she could compare it with. 

She moved against him, already so close from his mouth, it didn’t take long before Anna felt the pull towards letting go.  Only, this time, she stopped, and her arousal pulsed briefly before quieting down. 

“Fuck, you have no idea how much that makes me crazy,” Kristoff muttered as he caressed her hips.   

She looked down at his face, careful not to move her hips just yet.  “Yeah?”

He nodded slowly.  “It’s…” He let out a long breath.  “It just feels incredible.  Do it again.”

Anna gave him a wicked smile.  “You read my mind.”

She began to move herself against him, slowly at first, then picking up her pace a bit until that feeling came back.  She stopped again, just one more movement away from going too far, and her center quivered against his cock.

“Fuck…” he said slowly. 

Anna held stark still.  If she moved right then, she was going to come and she didn’t want to just yet.  She waited until her arousal died down, then finally relaxed her body against him. 

“I have to be honest, Anna,” Kristoff said, his hands massaging her thighs, “I don’t think I will be able to last you doing that again.”

She smiled at him.  “Does you in that much, huh?”

“You have no idea,” he mumbled, curling his hands around her back and pulling her down for a kiss. 

Anna gave in to his lips, kissing him back and starting to move herself against him.  She went slow this time, allowing herself to feel every second of her renewed growing arousal.  She pulled back from his lips and braced her hands on his chest as she got closer.  She had never felt such a deep need for an orgasm in all her life.

Kristoff’s grip was tightening on her hips and she knew he was going to come as soon as she did.  Anna found that edge again, only this time she did not deny herself.  She gasped as it got closer, and then a second later she was crying out with sweet relief.

Kristoff cried out softly with her, holding her firmly to him as they climaxed together.  It felt amazing to Anna to be able to ride out her orgasm with his cock pulsing powerfully within her.  It was basically mind-melting pleasure.  It was no wonder she was hooked on it like a drug.  A drug she was so thoroughly addicted to, that she knew they would have sex at least one more time before the end of the day. 

Or maybe two or three.  There seemed to be no way to satiate their hunger for one another.

~   ~   ~   ~   ~

Their wedding day was stunningly perfect.

Everything went according to plan and the only hiccup of the entire day was when Anna realized she accidently left her precious jewellery – the pieces she got back from her shitty ex – at home.  It was rectified shortly by Kristoff’s parents driving into the city to fetch them while the wedding party got ready.

What followed was flawless.

At the end of the night, with only a few guests left snacking on the pizza and the popcorn and talking in groups, Anna looked over at Kristoff, the happy and slightly drunk smile on his face, and felt her heart nearly explode with love. 

He was talking to Chester and his parents and laughing about something.  Anna could not take her eyes off of him; the most stunning man on the face of the planet in his pressed suit pants and white button down with the tie gone, top buttons undone, and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.  His hair was mussed from dancing all night, his brown eyes shinning so brightly with life, his smirk of a smile on full display.  Truly, he was nothing but complete perfection in Anna’s eyes.  The sexiest man on the face of the planet.

He happened to glance her way, catching her staring at him, and he turned towards her and smiled.  They walked towards each other and straight into a tight embrace. 

“I can’t believe you are my wife,” he mused, kissing her neck. 

“God, I can’t believe you are my freaking husband!” Anna said back excitedly.  She pulled back to look at his face.  “And now we get to have a whole hell of a lot of fun making some children.”

“You bet your ass we do,” he breathed, and kissed her. 

-----

About an hour later, Kristoff was pushing himself into her. 

The foreplay was only a couple of sloppy drunk kisses before Anna was begging for him.  It didn’t matter to her, her only goal for the night was for him to come inside of her.  She’d had her IUD removed a couple of weeks ago and in the interim before the wedding, he’d worn protection.  Anna much preferred the feeling of his naked skin without the rubber barrier.    

“I can’t wait for tomorrow,” he said between kisses.  “I am so excited to take a real vacation.  With my wife!”

“Me too,” Anna said through a sigh.  “Oh, Kristoff, me too.”

He took the hint that she didn’t want to talk too much and pressed his pelvis flush with hers.  He knew exactly what he was doing, and even through all the drinks, Anna knew she was going to come and that he was holding out to join her. 

She let go of every thought besides the building feeling in her abdomen.  It grew until it reached the point where Anna’s mind went utterly blank, then she reached the edge and fell over it.  They moaned, holding each other through every strong contraction of their shared orgasm.

---

Previous Chapter

[thethumpergod]

Cat Cafe (Lambert X Aiden, Modern AU)

Aiden was scrubbing the kitchen down after a failed cooking experiment. The souffle he was making had popped while he was sending an email. He had someone watch it while he was gone, but his sous chef was horrible. His little brother was at the dining room table typing on his laptop, being oh-so-helpful. Not willing to take this lying down, Aiden grabs a rag from the sink and wets it. With a quick twist of his hand, he wields his makeshift weapon.

There's a whacking sound followed by a yelp as Gaetan crunches up like a shrimp.

"Feel like helping?" Aiden gets a death glare from his brother, which only makes him smile wider. His eyes scan over the screen of the younger man’s laptop, then he frowns. “You’re supposed to be off.”

Gaetan was supposed to be on an involuntary break from work. After nearly being stabbed by a client, Guxart forced him to go on vacation. Even if Aiden didn’t agree with a lot of his decisions, the old man was right about this. Plus, it was nice finally seeing his brother again since Aiden moved up north.

"Ugh, I’m finalizing some documents; get off my back," Gaetan says, wiping his neck. "Ew." Gaetan's under-eyes were practically visible from a mile away; he'd been on this case for weeks now. While Gaetan is one hell of a lawyer, everyone has their limits, and the company he's with is quite demanding.

"Thank you," Aiden trills. The moment of victory was then swiftly cut off by his phone.

He can feel sharp, judgmental eyes on the back of his head. Deciding to finish cleaning, he ignores the sound of a notification. Knowing his luck, it's probably work. Or maybe it was Coen? He shakes his head, focusing on cleaning the dishes.

"So, anything interesting happened today?" Aiden asks.

"Same thing as always, a lot of reading, and Letho called to check on me," Gaetan says, smiling slightly.

It takes willpower not to groan about hearing Letho's name again. Ever since Gaetan met him, he had been drooling over that guy. Aiden already wasn't a fan of his brother's past boyfriends; he didn’t want a repeat of the last one.

Now there’s Letho, Gaetan's crush or possible new boyfriend. The older man was far too reserved for his liking. While trying to find information on Letho, like a respectable big brother, there was nothing. He had no social media, no police reports, and no old records of any kind; it's like the man never existed. The only thing he knows for sure about him is that he’s been in the military for a long time.

Aiden had never even met the man in person before. He knew Gaetan could handle himself and, more importantly, defend himself, but that still didn’t settle that feeling. "You’ve been going easy on yourself, right?"

"I'm fine. I’m still kickin’." Gaetan sighs, and he wiggles his fingers in Aiden's face to prove his point."

Aiden tries to bite one, and Gaetan quickly pulls it back with a small yelp. “I don’t think you need all of them.”

"Weren't you the one who said we needed to clean?" Gaetan points out.

"You're no fun."

"How am I-?" The younger man groans in frustration, turning back to wipe the kitchen countertops down.

After finishing cleaning, they both head for their phones again, sitting on the couch.

Shockingly, it was Lambert. If he were being honest, he thought his flirting scared him off. Part of him wondered if the other man even understood that he was flirting.

All Lambert starts with is, 'Hey, it's Lambert.'

The guy across the hall was something else. He had bright brown eyes that flashed under his dark eyebrows. He had a widow’s peak and a low-trimmed beard, which covered his dimples. His slightly hooked nose was still bruised, and a scar ran on the left side of his face. He’s hot; rouge-looking might be the best word to describe it.

He had met Lambert's type plenty of times. He’s just the usual snappish guy who acted all tough. There was only one thing that caught him off guard. He’s terribly cute. He didn’t expect how easily flustered his neighbor got, he turned damn near tomato red from just a little teasing. Part of Aiden would absolutely love to make him do that even more, but trying to fuck his neighbor is probably not the best idea…

"Is that a hookup or something?" Gaetan looks over at him on the other side of the couch. "You’ve got that look on your face."

"No, he’s a new friend."

"Oh, it's that guy you like, huh?" Gaetan looks at him with a judgmental stare. "Hooking up with your neighbor is a horrible idea."

Aiden sometimes told Gaetan more than he should.

"I’m not going to." Aiden huffs before curling into a spot on the couch. He quickly texts back, hearing Gaetan climb over to look.

AIDEN: Hey, Lambert! I'm still in town tomorrow if you want to grab some food.

"Oh, already going on a date?" Gaetan laughs. Aiden chooses not to reply, side-eyeing his brother. "Hey, he's texting."

Aiden whips his head back, and to his relief, Gaetan wasn't joking. Those three gray dots bounce around on the screen.

LAMBERT: Where?

AIDEN: The House of Cats, maybe around 1?

LAMBERT: Yeah, that works.

AIDEN: I'll see you later.

He stops himself from adding a winky face at the end. Or, more accurately, Gaetan wouldn’t stop laughing until he did.

Lambert sits in a nook in the corner, drinking a cup of black coffee. He watches the light rain that runs along the windows of the cafe. It was spacious and quiet, aside from the soft music playing in the back. Most of the people there were women and children, and some couples too. No one bothered him about his still-healing nose. The only attention he got was from a skinny blonde waiter with many, many piercings.

The tables were made of light wood, with matching chairs. Ferns were hanging from the rafts, supported by a complicated string pattern. All the cats were wandering around, some friendlier than others. He could get the appeal of spending time with cats without the commitment of ownership.

His eyes keep moving around, refusing to stay in one place for too long. He wasn’t nervous as he fought his leg to stop tapping on the floor. He had no reason to be.

"Ow!" Lambert is brought out of his thoughts, looking down at the mass of fur in his lap. The cat was chewing and then licking his hand like a toy, holding him down with its tiny black paws.

He would roll him off, but the fuzzy bastard looked like he was having fun mauling his hand.

He never had a pet that belonged to him before. All the animals he took care of were normally Eskels, which were mostly forest or farm animals.

The closest Eskel got to owning a cat was when he let a skunk into the house when he was seven years old. He thought it was a cat, and when he tried to clean it, all hell broke loose.

Judging from the story, Vesemir probably still has nightmares about the smell.

"You've made a friend." A voice interrupts his thoughts. Lambert didn’t even hear or see him coming in.

Looking up, Aiden is on the other side of the table, resting his face in his hand. Aiden leans in to look at the cat, his hair spilling onto his shoulders. "That’s Jasper; he’s the friendliest cat here. They’re not sure what his age is; my guess is two years old. He's a bit of a bastard but in a lovable way."

To his relief, Aiden was wearing baggy blue jeans and some kind of flowy white button-up. His top buttons were undone, showing off the muscles of his neck. This time, the fucker didn’t catch him off guard. Lambert had on his tactical pants, which, if his ex-girlfriends weren’t lying, made his ass look good… Not like he wanted to show it off or anything, he just felt like settling the score is all.

"Hm. This place is okay," Lambert says as he strokes Jasper's head, trying to think of something to say.

"Thanks; my friend Dragonfly spent so long trying to buy this building. I decided to help decorate it for its grand opening to celebrate."

"My niece would love this; she would annoy the piss out of her dad to come here. It’s perfect."

"Pft, please do," Aiden giggles. "I’m guessing she’s a big fan of cats?"

"All animals, including spiders for some reason," Lambert shivers.

"Dragonfly is like that; she partnered up with the animal rescue," Aiden beams. "All the cats here are adopted." He smiled big and brightly, showing off his teeth, and his eyes crinkled.

"Uh. That's, uh, cool." Shit. Fuck.

“Nervous, neighbor?” Aiden teased him.

“What? No. So, uh, what have you been up to?" Lambert asked. He has no idea why the hell he's being so awkward, but making direct eye contact with Aiden is getting more and more difficult.

"Work and more work. How about you?"

Lambert snorts. "Same. I swear my clients are trying to send me to an early grave."

"Clients?"

"I'm a private security guard."

"That explains the muscles."

"Thanks," Lambert nearly choked. Okay, it's just a compliment, no big deal.

There’s a long pause as Lambert does everything in his power not to squirm. The tension was broken when a waiter came to take Aiden’s order. The shorter man took this as a chance to focus somewhere else. He shifts to trying to drink his coffee as slowly as possible.

Aiden looks over, then cocks his eyebrow, examining his mug.

"It’s black coffee," Lambert says, letting his eyes drift around the café.

"I can’t stand the bitterness of that." Aiden scrunched his face, looking ridiculous.

Lambert simply rolls his eyes and asks, "So, what do you drink?"

"Mochas," the taller mews. "I've always had a sweet tooth."

Before Lambert could say anything, Aiden's eyes snapped to the floor as something caught his attention. "Oh, wait one second." Aiden makes a 'Pspsps' sound, but the silliness of it seems to be lost on the other man. Soon a creature trots over to Aiden and then jumps into his lap. It was kissed square on the forehead, which they didn't fight.

"What’s with the cat?" Lambert says this with a raised brow. The cat had a thin, long face, massive ears, and a skinny body.

Aiden snorts, "This is Milo. She's an oriental shorthair, they just look different. Don’t tell Jasper, but she’s my favorite." The man who kicked his ass was kissing the cat's foreheads and drinking expensive coffee.

"I promise I won't," Lambert says, smiling down at Jasper, who has fallen asleep in his lap… It’s nice. Maybe he should get a cat one day...

The waiter returns with two dishes, announcing, "Two white honey cakes."

One was placed in front of Lambert, causing him to blink at the waiter. "It's on the house," the blonde guy says.

"Thanks, Axel," Aiden said, corking his eyebrow at the waiter, who smiled devilishly. "This is one of the best cakes in the café; try it," he says gently as he puts Cleo on the ground. He waves her off like the cat would give two fucks.

"Uh, yeah, sure," He chooses not to think anymore, grabbing a fork. The man wasn’t fucking kidding, it was stellar. Lambert assumed the bitterness was from the tiny amount of burnt honey. It's just right in terms of sweetness. Aiden smirks more as he takes another bite.

"Good, huh?" he says, looking all too pleased. He keeps fucking looking like that.

"It's okay," is all Lambert bothers to say. The shorter man could feel his face burning.

"Hm, my favorite thing here is the carrot cake." The man says to him. It is confusing how this guy is so built when half his diet sounds like sweets.

"Is your blood made of sugar at this point?" Lambert mumbles swiftly.

"Probably."

"Your metabolism will catch up with you," Lambert says.

"I'm 35 and it hasn't failed me yet," Aiden says, smiling.

"You’re younger than me?"

Aiden playfully kicks him under the table with a grin. Lambert's eyebrows scrunched before he let out a small laugh. "Ow. My skincare routine must not be working." Aiden scratches his chin. "I’m going to have frown wrinkles like my dad."

Lambert just smiles and kicks back. "You'll survive."

Aiden cheekily nudges Lambert's foot with his, causing him to laugh. Lambert goes to kick him in the knee but his neighbor catches his foot. "Got ya."

"Fine you win! Now I would like to finish my cake."

They don't say much else after that, but both have a dumb grin on their face. Lambert watches Aiden finish the last of his cake, as he tries to balance a half-asleep cat on his lap. He wouldn’t admit this but the place was not that bad, especially compared to where he normally wasted his days away.

Once they were done, Aiden looked at his phone with a frown.

"I have to head back home; I need to pack for a work trip. Where did you park?"

"The Main Street parking garage," Lambert says as he moves the lazy cat on his lap. Jasper looked unamused after losing his newfound bed.

"Me too. Let’s walk there together."

Lambert doesn’t find himself arguing as the men go to the register and pay for their drinks.

A blonde woman wearing baggy pants, with her hair in a loose ponytail was standing near the front. She smiled coyly and said, “It’s on the house, Aiden.”

“Dragonfly, is there something I should know about?” His neighbor looks at her suspiciously.

“No, no.” Her face clearly said otherwise.

“Hm. Thanks,” Is all Aiden says before making the motion of I’m watching you.

The sidewalk had turned dark from the rain, and every step caused a small splash. The sun had begun coming out of hiding. Lambert tried to keep his eyes on the water pooling in the drains along the road; he did.

The feeling of sharp, almond-shaped eyes was hard to ignore. Aiden walked with a strut beside him, his chin held high—huh, he walked like a cat. Lambert huffed at the silly thought.

"Something wrong, Lambert?"

"It’s nothing."

"Are you sure? " Aiden’s voice has a smug flare.

"Yeah."

He tosses his hair over his shoulder, letting the light kiss the now honey-looking strands. "You know, some people there were checking you out. Maybe you can get a number or two there? Assuming you don't have someone."

"I'm single, but I don't need help getting women." Lambert snorts.

"I'm sure you don't; you're handsome, Lambs," Aiden said.

' Did he call me handsome? Did he just call me Lambs?' Lambert thought to himself. His face twisted, trying to decide his reaction to what Aiden said. "Thanks." Lambert puffed out trying to avoid another awkward silence.

They step into the parking garage, then head up the concrete stairs. Lambert stops when he feels a hand on his shoulder, for some reason, Aiden had the balls to touch him.

"This is my floor; see you around," Aiden says as he walks away, winking.

Lambert sputtered, but by the time he thought of a reply, his neighbor was gone. "Uh, bye, Aiden."

That was … Gods.

Getting to his truck, he sinks into the driver's seat. Today was weird. It took him longer than needed to finally leave the garage; his mind was caught in a loop. Lambert had no idea how to feel about today…

Getting back to his apartment, he collapses on the couch, knowing work is in a few hours.

It was just him and the silence now.

The next few months went by differently.

Lambert was lying on his couch again. He tried to make it through a movie that was rapidly getting less interesting. He frankly has no idea why this became so popular on Netflix when ninety percent of it is sex scenes and arguing.

His phone goes off from the other side of the couch. This better not be Eskel complaining about paperwork again. Lambert would be more inclined to do it if half of it weren’t disclaimers and safety agreements.

He finally moves to grab his phone, it’s Aiden. Whenever Lambert bumped into Aiden while jogging, he would let him tag along, and they would shit-talk for the most part.

The playful flirting Aiden liked to do still messed with Lambert for whatever reason, but he knew not to take it too seriously. Then Lambert started messaging back and forth with Aiden. It’s just kind of boring with him gone. He was easy to talk to, that's all. Nothing seemed to bother him too much, he didn’t have to put so much effort into coming off as likable. Even if Aiden’s cocky face was annoying, there was a respectable level of confidence in the man.

They talked about silly shit, mainly revolving around whatever Aiden had going on. Sometimes he would even get photos of things Aiden thought were interesting. Lambert would even rant about the bullshit contract he had for the day or talk about babysitting Ciri.

AIDEN: [image attached] Check this out!

From what he could gather, Aiden was standing on top of a building, looking out over a massive city. Why is he in Korath?

LAMBERT: Why are you in the desert?

AIDEN: Aw. Miss me? ;)

Lambert snorted.

LAMBERT: You fucking wish

AIDEN: I’m visiting some family for a wedding

AIDEN: What’s my favorite neighbor up to?

LAMBERT: I’m trying not to die of boredom. How about you?

AIDEN: I'm getting ready, and I'm not sure If I’m overdressing. [Image attached]

The outfit wasn’t terrible. The suit was a velvet red, which complimented him nicely. The jacket hugged tightly to his chest, then tapered down to his waist. It made him look taller; it showed off his lean yet toned form. It had to be tailored to fit him so well…

LAMBERT: Meh. It’s a bit much.

AIDEN: Damn, it’s too late to change. Oh well, I’ll be here for two weeks, so I can’t dress to the nines all the time.

LAMBERT: Sweet, sweet freedom for 14 days!

AIDEN: Yeah, yeah. Such a kind soul

It is all up in the air where Aiden is at any given moment. Most of the time, his job sends him all over the continent. All Aiden told him about his position was that it had something to do with “information.” He gathered that it pays well from how Aiden dresses and the collections of rather expensive knives he likes to buy.

It wasn’t like it was his business what Aiden did with his life.

LAMBERT: Whatever. I’m going to sleep

AIDEN: Night Lamb

LAMBERT: Fuck off, ‘Aidey’

AIDEN: Lol! Wow, that’s awful

Lambert smiled to himself as he walked to his bedroom. Sure, he didn’t see Aiden a lot, but it was nice having someone around. It was a break from the hell he found himself in. He tried not to think about the quietness of the apartment or how repetitive his days were. He tried not to think about how he’d done this to himself. At least his neighbor liked him, for whatever reason.

Lambert wobbles up the stairs again; he swears they get longer each time he gets shitfaced. The world is unhelpfully swirling around as he tries to open the door to his apartment. After leaving the pub, he winded up dinging his leg on a fire hydrant, which fucking sucked. Thanks to the gods, he still had his keys and even went to the right door this time.

Today was the usual: a shitty contract, then coming home to be alone. That's exactly how he likes it. Aiden didn’t even text him today, not that he wanted him to.

The problem now is getting the fucking keys into the lock; his hands won’t stay still. After maybe six attempts at opening the door, he begins cursing loudly.

The door could be heard behind him—of course, Aiden shows up now. Lambert’s heart raced in annoyance, mentally saluting Aiden’s respect for him dying.

“Lamb, something wrong?”

“The key,” Lambert mumbles, feeling his legs nearly give out.

“Having trouble with the door again?” Aiden walks over to him, reaching for his key. “Can I help?”

"Uh…yeah."

The door wasn’t an issue for Aiden; getting Lambert’s legs to function was the problem. Aiden wraps his arm around him, getting him to his busted-up sofa. His bruised legs brush the side of the couch, causing him to hiss.

“You’re hurt?” Aiden squats to his level, eyeing his legs.

“I hit… my leg. I’m okay.” He fumbled with his boots, letting them fall anywhere.

“I want to check your leg, Lambert. Mind if I roll up your pants?”

“I don’t need your *hiccup* help.”

Aiden sighed. “Sure you don’t.” The sarcasm was thick in the air. Lambert peeks an eye out from the cushions, seeing Aiden again. Aiden gives him the sternest stare imaginable.

Lambert glared at him in silence, feeling his face burn. “Fucking fine.”

“Good, thank you.” He says, rolling his eyes. He moves up his pants legs, examining the damage. A finger follows along the lining of the bruise, gently touching it. Lambert's toes curl at the twitch of pain; he chooses to blame the noise he suppressed on the alcohol. “This will sting for a day or two, but you’ll be fine. Have you had any food?”

"No," Lambert said, pushing his face back against the couch.

"Stay right there," Aiden says as he stands up and walks out the door. Lambert would get up to lock it behind him, but the couch was too comfortable for that. It took twenty minutes for him to return with a plate in hand, and the steam from it was slightly coming off. “Here, waking up hungry and hungover blows.”

Whatever was on that plate smelled amazing. With a sigh, Lambert moved to sit upright. “You’re not poisoning me, right?”

“Unfortunately, no. My brother and I made this for lunch; he had to leave before he could eat it all.” Aiden placed it in his lap; it already had a fork.

It was salmon with a side of asparagus, and without further instruction, he began eating. Aiden disappeared off into the kitchen to get him water, then went back. The food melted in his mouth as the taste of the savory salmon combined with the orange sauce on top. Fuck, the guy can cook.

“Do you like it?” Aiden calls from the kitchen; the sounds of running water and dishes being moved fill the air.

“It’s fuckin’ good!” Lambert says with a mouth filled with food.

“Pfft, thank you. My mom taught me everything there is to know about cooking,” Aiden returns, wiping his hands on his pants.

“Were you washing my dishes?”

“I was cleaning the kitchen... You looked like you needed some tidying up.” The man notably keeps his eyes from looking around the apartment. He knows the place looks like shit, and his room isn’t much better; there's no need to beat around the bush. “Now, how did you get here? Did you drive?”

“Nah, I left my truck at the pub... I’m there all the time. The owners know me by now, so they don’t care.” That didn’t seem to ease Aiden at all.

"It's three a.m.; you get some sleep," Aiden says with a heavy sigh.

"3 am? Fuck, I was out that long?" He scoops his legs up on the couch to get comfortable.

"You're not going to sleep on that couch, are you? You should go to your bedroom."

“Yes s- sir. Of course, sir,” He groans as he tries to stand up, making seven steps toward his room. The world spun too fast, causing him to tumble; the only thing stopping him was Aiden.

"I've got you, Lambert," Aiden says as he pulls him into his chest and balances him. “Gods. You could have cracked your head on the staircase.” Loose strands of Aiden’s hair tickled him as they whispered across Lambert’s bare shoulder. That’s when a smell hits him, it’s something tangy like an orange mixed with a mystery spice. He stopped himself from leaning into trying to guess the unknown scent, knowing he was being weird.

It took a bit, but Aiden managed to toss him on the bed. He doesn't bother to remove Lambert’s jacket.

"Drink some more water in the morning, and only take pain pills when you're sober," Aiden says as he pulls the covers over him.

“Gods, are you going to give me a goodnight kiss next?”

"Perhaps next time," Aiden says dryly. “Good night, Lamb.”

“Mhn! Don’t call me that," Lambert says with a loud groan, rolling away from his neighbor. Being both drunk and full, Lambert found sleep quickly.

He woke up to a cleaner apartment and a note on his dining room table.

‘Drink some water, Lamb - Aiden’

It was a month later when Lambert decided to go on a jog again. When he opened the door to his apartment, he was met with Aiden trying to balance groceries while opening his apartment door. Is he still here?

"I’ll help," Lambert says, grabbing the gallon of milk about to fall. "I thought you were out of town this week."

"Thank you; work got canceled last minute," Aiden chirps, finally getting things in order. For the first time, his neighbor looked tired; his hair was quickly put in a ponytail. He was wearing a plain white shirt and black pants—no jewelry even. "I might just be working in town for the week. Were you about to jog?"

"I was thinking about it."

"Well, I was planning to make coffee; care to join?"

Skipping jogging to have coffee with his neighbor doesn’t sound too bad. He looks at Aiden's soft smile, then huffs. "Sure, I can kill some time."

He follows Aiden inside his apartment and is immediately hit with shame. The place was clean, for one. It looked like something out of those house magazines Yennefer liked to look through and sometimes whack him with. There was a Polo black leather couch facing a nice flat-screen TV. The walls were covered in abstract paintings that took up any parts that would have been too naked without them. The most eye-catching thing is the glass display of impressive throwing knives near the open kitchen. An expendable Kunai, a fighter knife, a Bowie knife, a Ridge runner...

"Plan on killing someone?" Lambert whistled. He'd seen a few of the knives Aiden bought over text but had never seen the display before.

"Thank you; Gaetan said it was ominous," Aiden says as he walks over to the kitchen island. "Now onto more pressing matters, coffee! Want it hot or cold?"

"I only drink it hot, like a normal person."

“Ever had it cold?”

“Nope.”

"You sad man," The taller man shakes his head. "I’m making you my specialty."

"The fuck is your specialty? And do I get a say in this?"

"No!" Aiden laughs.

The thing Aiden called coffee was a mix of chocolate, milk, and whipped cream. It was a dessert with coffee flavoring. Lambert sat on the couch beside Aiden while he stared at the concoction he was expected to drink. The tension built as he brought the mug to his lips, and with one last sigh, he drank it.

He paused for a moment; it wasn’t awful, so he took a second sip.

"See, Lamb, new things aren’t that bad." Aiden beams, nudging him with his shoulder. He laughs when Lambert flips him off, sipping his drink.

Two weeks later, Lambert finds himself at a store, looking for something to pay him back. He found a cat mug in a cozy little shop near downtown since Aiden seemed to like stuff like that, and all he needed was one more thing to even the score. If Aiden liked chocolatey stuff, then he probably liked cookies. There’s only one way to find out. He moves to the display of sweets, picking the best-looking bag he can find.

"Hey, Lambert!"

"Ah, fuck me." Lambert turns to see Eskel for some reason. It didn’t make sense; he lived 30 minutes away from here, near the mountains, like Geralt. He had a bag of cornmeal over his shoulder, the nice kind. Chances are it’s for Lil’ Bleater; that goat was spoiled like a show dog. "Why are you here?"

"Love you too. I have a meeting at the office later. Now, what are the gifts for?"

"A friend," Lambert rolled his eyes. "They helped me, and I wanted to give them something, officer."

"Mm., that's nice," Eskel says doubtfully. "Are they a girlfriend?"

" I said a friend, dickhead," Lambert said as his brother followed him down the aisle.

"I'm sure you've heard the news about Geralt," Eskel says, looking down at his younger brother.

"About Yen's friend?"

Eskel pulls up a picture of a brown-haired guy who looked weirdly preppy for his brother's taste. "He is quite the character."

Jaskier was Geralt's newfound piece of ass. The fucker was even minor nobility. It wasn't unusual for Geralt to go out and find a dom, but he never kept them. The man would much rather live out in the woods for the rest of his life. The only thing stopping him from rotting in a cave somewhere was his daughter and them.

Ciri had spilled the beans about Jaskier, thank the gods.

"Maybe getting some ass will make him social again," Lambert grunts.

"I'll try to talk to him about it," Eskel sighs.

"Good luck with that shit," Lambert rolls his eyes.

He finally makes it to the checkout lane with a little more bullshit from his brother. Thankfully, the cashier was quick.

"Bye, Lambert. Good luck with your… friend."

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Bruce Wayne talking with Teddy!verse reader?

"Listen," you sigh and shift the phone to your other ear, "I'll write the script for it but- Sid Vicious and Nancy Spungeon is too recent for Oubliette." You pause and wave Bruce in through the back door with an apologetic smile as you over your phone with your hand for a second. "There's tea in the fridge, help yourself. I'm almost done."

He nods, taking a second to look around as he rifles through cupboards for a glass. It's a nice house. New. Built to your specifications, according to Jason. Not as modern s he might have assumed but- cozier. Warm. Plainly built to be a family home. A comfortable place. And that set his mind at ease somewhat.

"Ok," you hum, "But what kind of portentous? Like creepy portentous or just- big and bombastic?"

Bruce half-listened to the conversation and watched you pace. He didn't know exactly what "hiatus" meant when it came to your schedule, but he'd assumed it meant not being at work at all. Evidently, it meant you just had more free time and didn't have to physically be in the building. He glanced at your laptop and the papers and notebooks over the scrubbed kitchen table- Horrific handwriting but. Orderly, painstakingly put-together notes. Post its. Things to double-check. Things to edit. Notations about deadlines.

"Again," you sigh, "I do have the bulk of the Sid Vicious research done. And a chunk of a script but- I'm not sure I can actually DO that." You pause and scrub your face with your hands, "I was going through it about then. Yes. That was right before the breakdown... shit got dark. Even by Oubliette standards." You nod, "That works. Let's table Sid and Nancy for now... I've got a couple things I'm playing with right now, I'll have it scanned to Irina sometime tomorrow when stuff solidifies a little. Kay. Perfect. Send me the notes and I'll go from there. Bye."

You make a noise that might be a yell but the volume of your voice never changes, not even when it trails into a dramatic whine. "Sorry," you hum, smiling apologetically, "Status meetings."

"Not a problem," he said smiling, setting his tea and the pitcher on the table, well out of your way. "Running a company is stressful. I can only imagine that having to be creative on top of it doesn't make it less so."

"Not really," you laugh, taking a sip from your water bottle and gathering up all your papers. "But, things are easier now that I'm not doing EVERYTHING mostly on my own. Kinda sucks that I had to have a whole mental breakdown to get the workload evened out again but- eh. It's better."

Bruce frowned slightly, "Mental Breakdown?"

You shrug and shut your laptop, "My fiance had an affair with my best friend while everyone else was busy getting married and having kids and I was trying to keep us going- I just kinda- After everything was over I just kinda broke for a while. About a year and a half ago. It took months for me to even be able to walk into the studio. We had to reschedule a tour like- it was a mess. But. Now I have an assistant and scheduled vacation time. So that's rad."

He nodded, watching you. It had been easy, when Jason first told him about you, about wanting to move in with you, to assume bad things. Even after he'd done the background check and learned some of the things he'd learned. But now? Having been in your house, seen the effort you made to make space for Jason and Teddy, The fact that the fridge was covered in drawings and A+ school assignments- Toys on the living room floor and new plastic dishes for little hands to use and not break. You tried. So hard. And he'd be lying if he said it didn't make his chest ache. "And your biggest fans live in your house," he chuckled.

"That too," you answer, smiling a little. "That helps... speaking of-" you break off and check your watch, "They were supposed to be back anytime."

"I don't mind waiting," Bruce said, smiling his thanks when you put down a plate of muffins for him. "I always wondered if you actually worked in your office. I guess now I know."

You gesture to the pile of books and papers, "The light is better down here- My office used to be in Teddy's room but he liked the stained glass in the window and all the colors. So we shifted it over one."

"We?" Bruce chuckled, unwrapping a muffin.

"Well. Jason," you snort, "I made him do the heavy lifting. I just did the painting and redecorating."

"Work smarter not harder," Bruce agreed, raising his glass in toast. Teddy, as far as Bruce was concerned, couldn't have picked a better mom if he tried.

[thekillingjoke-haha]

Can you maybe write a poly romantic content for the seven from the boys with a fem reader with also lots of jealousy and possessiveness with the og team from s1?

Just The Assistant Right?

Warning: Assault,Blood,Physical fighting,domestic dispute,jealously, possessive,angst turn heated.

Y/n was a name that could bring the seven most popular and well know heroes drop to their knees. She was their personal assistant hired early on in the sevens rise in popularity she was mainly their to keep the teams image clean and their behavior in check. Yes of that lead to a relationship between the team and her although that was unknown to the public which was best for business said Stillwell.

So back to the main focus in time she was in a chair off to the side as John and Kevin or Homelander and The Deep was being interviewed before her and she was actively watching another interview with the other five partners silinently playing live with captions on as she worked on the laptop. "Here is my final questions your love life..." "Lets get to the juicier questions." Y/n rolled her e/c orbs at the statements they always asked to fuel the fires that lit in the horny bitches pants that lived and breathed to have the slim chance of fucking the seven members. Their was a set response to these questions they say their single and could never imagine settling down with so many people to protect blah blah blah. "Rumors are going around about the team falling for that pencil pusher assistant L/n so is it true?" The bubbles younge women asked the five of the seven members,but her eyes snapped up from reading the captions looking up at the differently phrases words."Word has been spreading g about a potential relationship with Ms.L/n care to shed some light on this?" Slowly moving Y/n turned up her volume slightly to her the live interview. "L/n is just a close influence in our lives,but she is only just our personal assistant that handles our affairs." John was the first to speak up smiling full of charm as Kevin's brown eyes widened slightly before he nodded along feeling the headed glare only a few yards away. "Y/n? She nobody really low ranking supe that need a place." Reggie said with a chuckle adjusting his blue and white shades as Maeve responded after. "Just our assistant that helps us out haha." She said nervously it was clear for someone that knew her and the h/c women knew her inside and out. The others only agreed with their statement and she closed her laptop and stood from her chair her eyes seeming to cut the two supes infront of her. Her face held no emotions as she leaned over to the PR Ashley and whispered something before turning on her heels and strutting out of the interview early. The team knew right then that they fucked up,but they were supes and the assistants lovers mad can she be?

The stone and steel of the vought table creaked under her hand that layed on top of the surface as the team sat at the table looking at her. "Why are you so angry,baby? You know we can't out our relationship." John spoke up as he looked at her a smirk pulled on his lips like he could do no wrong. "So by doing that you disrespect at my job a,d as a person oh that so much better,Johnathan really let me give you all a hand." Y/n clapped sarcastically as her hard gaze roughly panned over all of them. "Glad to know I'm nothing,but a joke to y'all."

Annie shook her head as she look up at her girlfriend in distress. "No n/n it wasn't like that it was j—" but shebwas cut off by the blonde male as he let out a emotionless laugh. "Yes its exactly what it looked like. Compared to us you are nothing without us you wouldn't have anything so yes you're nothing more then or little pencil pushing,bend over,order taking assistant nothing more." The room fell silent not a single sound heard and it stayed that why for a lifetime which was only a few minutes. "You all have a meeting with Ashley and Stillwell about up coming projects and I'll be taking a much deserved vacation away from you assholes. Take the time to forget about what we had." Y/n spoke deathly calm the eye of the storm making them all choke on a breath as the realization that this moment of silence will be broken with their unkempt rage as she walking with her head held up high out of the room and out of the building to her apartment. All hell broke loose as they supes caught up the same chapter in the book. She just broke up with them over their mistakes and was leaving them and they didn’t stop her. The room was in shambles and it barley reflected their pain and anger. Noir who was off to the side looked to the only other team member calm enough to listen as he signed to him.

"Its all our fault we pushed her away and brushed her all. Not even defending her and now she's out there looking for someone that won't make the same mistake we made that will hold on and won't let go" Grant or Translucent said for Noir as he look at the team rubbing a hand down his face balling up his fist as it went opast his chin. "Are we just gonna sit here and ponder or are we getting her?!" Maeve said as she stood up already rushing towards the double doors Kevin following after her. The seven broke off into groups of two while John was on his own since he could fly and see through buildings he'll notify the team quicker. The sun was setting on the supes face as he landed at the front door of her apartment opening the door with his copy of the key.

The whole space was clean and put togther the only evidence it wasn't a model apartment was the decorative pillows and the photos of the team separate and togther littered on the walls and shelves. Stepping deeper into the cluches of the pale walled living room he couldn't hear anyone inside ignoring this he kept going forward to the office it was empty and papers scattered on the marble desk yet none spilled to the floor with a sigh he moved on. The bedroom the clothes she was wearing a hour ago was balled up in the hamper the lid not closed and the closet door was wide open with the light on. Johns eyes did catch something that was purposely placed. A note.

'If I'm just your assistant than please keep this business casual. Relationships in the work place wow a HR nightmare. So I'm gonna find multiple someone's to fill the space...being a great fuck is a bonus tho.~

—The Seven

John crunched the paper up before pressing his comm telling his findings. They now had a idea where to find her a club and their is only one place open at this time. Supernova. They all rushed,but only after changing into civilian clothing cause suits meant business in the supe nightclub.

Back to Y/n~~

Walking through the doors Y/n immediately had eyes on her maybe because shr was normal it was like these supes can smell it and those that had a particular kink for normies where like a flock of birds and she was a new shiny toy. Perfect. Men and few women alike gravitated towards her as she stood at the bar ordering a glass of red wine. The first brave soul was a black haired man that had a cleanly shaved face. "Hey,doll. What's a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?" He asked liking his lips as he looked at her cleavage. His tongue was forked like a lizard and on a closer look green scales were on his neck seeing to thin out in the front. "Why is anyone here? To get drunk and get fucked." She grinned.

The man groaned as he held her hips turning her away from the bar and pulled her close. A warm breeze passed against her shoulders and she saw two people a man and woman there. Both of them dawned blonde hair and blue eyes. Must be twins and from the looks of it where a small town heroes. "Now look at you two straight from a wet dream. Just gonna stand and watch or lead us all to a booth?" Togther they nodded and lead them to a large c shaped booth that should hold more than four,but it was best than those couches. Y/n was there to forget about the Seven and if it meant warming her bed for the night so be it. What she didn't expect was for the seven to walk through the doors and a certain translucent supe saw flickering with his powers. The others noticed and asked what was wrong. "They are touching what's ours!" Grant hissed in anger and the others followed his eyes and their own filling to the brim in jealous rage.

Anthony was the first to make it to the table removing the blonde man throwing him over the side of the leather booth. Annie and Maeve were next and grabbed the second twin the blonde seven tossing the girl to the waiting brunette that punched her lights out as Noir seemed to come up from nowhere knocking out the unconscious girls brother with the handle of his knife.

Grant was dragging the two away to another area for someone else's problem. Kevin grabbed the black haired serpent breaking the connection he had on his girlfriends lips his fist met his jaw repeatedly before pulling him around the curve of the c shaped bench and dropped him to the ground. The supe shook his head gaining his barings and spitting out blood that had collected in his mouth. Spitting it right on the boots of the sevens leader. The serpent hybrids eyes trailed up the jeaned pant legs to looking into the eyes of the devil himself. Blue and full of possessive jealously that his blood curdling smile over shadowed. "You shove that disgusting snake tongue down her throat and now you spit not at,but on my feet." John hummed and his eyes started to glow red his orbs fading.

As he was about to burn holes into his head a gental hand grabbed his chin and another rested on his arm. "Now Johnny boy not here. Behave and I'll come home and give ya a treat." Y/n purred into his ear and his eyes dimmed the man crawling away with his life in hand. "Good boy." She hummed kissing behind his ear making the blonde relax before wrapping his arms around her his face in her neck taking in the perfume he bought her. She was his. She was theirs and losing her today only proved that they wanted her more than anything even if it meant killing. Y/n might not be super,but she heard the distinct sound even over the music and mosns, skull cracking and brain matter meeting a thick boot. Noir.

"You're ours,darling. We know we fucked up,but seeing you gone and with them was nothing compared to you not being ours." Margaret brushed her h/c hair off of her shoulder gently playing with the strap of her dress as a four hand went to hold the side of her chest just under her arms. "Ours we'll scream it if we have to. Ours to touch." Kevin said his fingers teasing the lace. "Ours to hold." John hummed his arms still around her. "Ours to kiss." Grant kissed her shoulder blade. "Ours to please." Annie uncharacteristically grabbed at her exposed thigh massaging the flesh. "Ours to tease." Anthony nipped at her earlobe. "Ours to love." Noir said lastly his hand sliding down her back resting at the small of it above John's arms.

Y/n smiled her e/c orbs full of lust and passion coated in love for the suoes around her. She wasn't just the assistant. She was theirs as much as they were hers.

"And mine to fuck."

=======================

=======================

A/n: hope ya liked it never did suck a large poly and fuck I don't know Translucent at all so many of them are out of character.

[myfeetkeepdancing]

Nathan Drake x Male Reader

(Find the pervious two parts in my masterlist)

From your sitting, you could see the night sky veiling the bustling city of Berlin. A luxurious penthouse with ample room to vacate people. The hours crept by behind your laptop. Steady and slowly, the night sky went dark, and the moon illuminated the long slab of granite from the table. An extravagant piece of furniture that could accommodate a tenfold of people at once. So could the rest of the penthouse.

The table lay covered in maps, layers upon layers of different eras. Folders lay left and right. The tapping of your fingers on the keyboard killed the everlasting silence hanging in the place. "Are you trying to sneak in, or are you waiting for me to offer you a drink?" You call out casually. Pushing the folder beside you to a close.

"How the hell did you know?" The voice coming from the other side of the room. With a slight turn of your head, adjusting your eyes to the darkness, you notice Nathan in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe. "I came in from the roof, dangled myself in through the window." Jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. "Couldn't have tripped an alarm."

"You didn't. I was expecting you. One of your aliases came up on one of the passenger lists earlier today." Leaning back against the chair, folding your arms. "I'm surprised you can still get away with it."

"I'm not as wanted as you are." Fishing out his phone, Nathan shows an article with a blurred image of you. Underneath the picture was a hefty sum printed in fat digits. The reward for the golden tip.

"Flattering."

"So, you've been expecting me?" Eying the room from his position. He was clearly hesitant to take the first step into the room as he put his phone away. "What and where's the welcoming committee? Bombs? Lasers? Tasers? Electrified net…?"

"Oh yeah…" Pointing out one of the two slabs of stone in front of him. "Please step on the one marked 'X.'"

"Funny." He chuckles and leans slightly forward, checking the ceiling anyway. "I can't see the anvil hanging." With the slightest feelings of mistrust, Nathan pushes himself into the room. A sense of relief washes over him as everything stays quiet. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he makes his way through the room, kicking the dirt a little. Wondering and pondering around. "So… you've been following me all this time?"

"Yes and no. Computer does most of the work." Ticking the screen of your laptop and turn in your seat, keeping an eye on Nathan. He wasn't to be trusted. Before you know it, he could probably snatch an entire map under your very eyes.

"You're saying-…" He lingers on his words, slowly walking past the large table. Eyeing the papers you had laid before you. "-...I never had the element of surprise?" With that charming smile of his, he puts a certain weight behind his question. That playful glint. Slowly continuing his stroll in your direction.

"I don't know what you had in mind." You say, and trace his every finger along with your paperwork. Watch him push aside photos. Read little notes. "But no, not since you bought your flying ticket." From the look on his face, you can tell he's trying to piece together your possible target. Scanning back and forth between maps and overlays. Trying to figure it out like a jigsaw puzzle. Piece by piece. "You're… getting sloppy, Nathan."

You can tell he's holding back a remark. Only that little smile showing. Sucking on his lips. Pushing the chair aside beside you, Nathan seating himself onto the table. Planting his ass directly on your work. He lets his legs dangle over the edge. Resting his elbows on his knees, he leans forward, leveling with you on eyesight. "Something got you distracted…?" You go again.

"Who knows…" He grins, as if he did it on purpose, the ring hanging on this small cord slips from under his shirt. Dangling in front of you. Like a hypnotizing charm. "We were off to such a great start." From the corner of your eyes, you watch his hands reach for your laptop. You let him. With a push of his finger, he slowly pushes the laptop to a close. "I forgot where we left…"

"Probably the itch between your buttcheeks…" With your finger, you hook into the cord and pull him ever so slightly closer. Almost to the point of falling off the table. A pervy smile grows on his face as you lean in. Closing the distance and connecting your lips. It's been a while since you tasted his lips again. Felt his embrace. A feeling of longing and wanting flowed through the kiss. It's a tender start. Humming into it. Savoring it. Nathan's one hand reached to hold you, touch you, but has to keep himself from falling. Deepening the kiss in response.

"Expecting company…?" You murmur as you rise to your feet. Only leaving his lips for a second. "I can see the holster under your jacket." Nathan's legs are already spread wide open, welcoming you. You fill that space by stepping in. Drawn into it.

"Security reasons." Kissing you back fiercely. Nathan's arms wrap around you. His legs curl around your back. Locking you into his embrace as you lower yourself onto the table. "I'm also packing heavier equipment." He teases. Feeling his hands caress your sides. Feel you up. And your pockets. You keep eye contact all the while. Both knowing what you're doing.

So does Nathan. He's still a thief, after all. You try to stop him, regardless of the heat of the moment. You push him further onto the table. Pulling one arm free from your pockets. Locking his wrist on the table.

"Playing a dangerous game… Nate." And find his lips again. But work your way along his smooth face. Caress his jawline. Kiss his neck. Sucking the skin. Nathan's moans were a delight echoing in your ear. You can already feel him rub against you. Hard and wanting. "Why are you here, Nathan?" You reach inside his jacket and into one of his holsters. He doesn't stop you, he just smiles a little as he enjoys the moment. Feeling your hand brush over his pec. Those firm muscles teasing you. "Fully loaded… and a round in the chamber?"

"There's more." You notice a teasing play of fingers curling around your wrist. But are captivated by Nathan's charm. Lusting eyes gazing deeply into yours. "Feel free to… strip me of my holster." His jacket lay open, showing the brown leather double holster. The other gun still present.

"Don't try…" And smash his wrist back into the table. His fingers were trying to pry loose the steel sports watch on your wrist. The watch you took from Nathan. A shot of pain winced through his face. You detect a small hint of irritation. But you make yourself clear. "That stays with me now." And let go slowly. Nathan accepting. His arms reach around your neck. Wanting to pull you closer.

"Of all the places…" He asked almost to the point of being breathless in the kiss. "w-why… Berlin?"

"I'd show you why… If you wouldn't be all over it." And throw yourself back into the kiss, pushing aside the valuable papers and maps. Nathan follows you, struggling to discard his jacket. And you sure as not going to help him. You just feel him up. Enjoy him again. Climbing on the table. "You rather be in a warm, humid and stinking swamp hacking your way through vines while sweating like a pig? Sleep in tents… Live off rations…"

"I don't mind getting sweaty." Nathan's hand glides around the nape of your neck. Stroking the little hairs, admiring you. Accepting whatever happened next. Picking on your shirt, urging you to peel it from your body. This smirk growing on his face. "I fucking missed this…"

A sharp ring of the doorbell kills the mood entirely. Both of you shoot glances back and forth between the hall and each other. "What the fuck did you do, Nathan?!" Jumping onto your feet and take a second to assess the situation. Weigh your options.

Both breathing fast and heavily, it's the only thing you hear. Nathan is still on his back. Both on edge. Sharp as can be. Hyperfocused. Watching each other. Mistrusting each move of a muscle. Following each other's line of sight. "You ratted me out?!"

"I didn't do anything!" He hushed in a lowered voice. "I swear!" Trying to find his footing, but you don't let him. You both see the gun beside him. The distance is to your disadvantage. Nathan's position is his. You both pounce on it like a wild animals. Hands and fingers collide. But a foot to your stomach kicks both the air and the respect for Nathan out of you. A kick violent enough to make you lose your footing and crash into the chair behind you. Which sends you to the floor.

"Don't…!" Nathan's words fall short as the doorbell goes again. Voices come from the door that you can't make out exactly. Neither can Nathan as you both stare in the direction. Nathan jumps to his feet as well as you scramble to your feet. A wipe with the back of your hand along your nose affirms there was no blood. The thought spiked through your mind as Nathan's expression turned gravely. Staring at you with big eyes. "I'm sorry." Holding out a hand to you. "It-… It wasn't... I didn't mean to."

"You made a big mistake…" You hiss through your clenched teeth and ignore his helping hand. With the help of the fallen chair, you rush back onto your feet. Dusting yourself down and pushing the folds from your clothing. Nathan takes a step back as he notices your balled fist. Perhaps in time. Who knows. But you fight the urge to hit him. "I'll handle whoever's at the door. You lay low. Or I swear…" Showing him a balled fist. "I'll ask this once. Gimme… a… gun."

"No…" Nathan responds outright. Sheathing it in his holster and straightens his jacket. "I… can't let you take that risk. We don't know-..."

"Whatever happens next… is on you." You mouth furiously at him. "You know who's behind that fucking door…" And storm off towards the door. "...-you let them here in the first place, Nathan." The exchange may have lasted only seconds in total, but you can't keep whoever is out there waiting. The sound and discussion only added to the confusion. "Denying me a gun is a final piece that adds to my suspicion."

Turning the corner into the hallway, you're conflicted in either announcing your arrival or waiting. Indecision strikes you once again. Nailed to the floor. Death loomed everywhere. Nathan could shoot you in the back if he wanted you. Club you in the head. The person on the other side of that door could deliver the same fates. You swallow and mentally push yourself to open the door. "G-Goodevening." Your voice cracks a little as you open the door. "So s-sorry to keep you waiting." Stutters and the like not helping you.

Two German Police Officers stare at you with stale, cold, and hard faces. Both are older of age. A size larger than you. Instinctually you swallow from nervousness and being overwhelmed. They seem taken aback for a moment by your language. Taking a second to adjust.

"Ehm… Gutevening." The one older men spoke with a thick heavy accent. Trying to find the right words and tone. "Whe got a call from conzcering neighbors about movement… on zhe roof. Your roof. Somethzing about a man. Are you aware of dis?"

"I'm… not aware. No." You try to shake it off and cut short the conversation. "But all is fine here." Giving him a thumbs up and a fake smile. A slight unease crept in as they just stood there. Both look past you into the hallway and further on. "Nothing to worry about here."

"Are you… living here alone?" The second man's chest radio clicked and buzzed, relaying a message. It's German and spoken so incredibly quick and in an accent that understanding it was far more complicated than imagined. The policeman replied with a short answer as he checked his watch and returned his attention to you.

What was it about? The thought lingered in your head. Was it about you?

"Yes." You answer short and direct. The man's gaze was stark and penetrating. It's as if he's looking right through your lies. "Yes, I am." It takes both of them a few seconds to get the right words. But it adds to the nerve-wracking sensation and paranoia that was slowly taking over. Your heart is pounding heavier and heavier in your chest. Blood racing. Hands clammy.

"We heard zome noise when we were waiting ghere." The first policeman said, looking at you strangely. That stern gaze locking you on the spot. "Have you been on zhe roof?"

"No. I don't see a reason to. I heard nothing."

"Zhould we… come in and help you check. Just to make sure?" The second policeman offered kindly. "It's a big… place after all."

"No, thank you. That won't be necessary." Flashing him a fake smile, again, you show intentions of closing the door. "Do you mind…?"

"Is everythzing alright, sir?" The second policeman steps in, placing a hand on the door. Holding you from closing it. His eyes narrow, trying to focus on you. But the rather low light conditions don't seem to help. The other policeman takes his torch from his belt, shining it down the hall. You find yourself blinded for a second before you point it beside you. "You look… tense.

"Nervous." The other man adds with a thick accent.

"It's nothing." You chuckle politely. "I-I… wasn't expecting police. I've had a rough day."

"If you hear anythzing, or komes up…" The first policeman fishes into the lining of his vest. Revealing a small card with his name and number. "-... don't hezitate to call uz."

"We patrol zhe area ghere." And nods to you taking his hand off the door. "We're only minutez away." The sentence is meant to give you a sense of security. But it works completely opposite. The thought of the police in striking distance all the time is unsettling, to say the least.

"Thank you." With a slightly shaking hand, you accept the card. Pushing into your pocket. "And a goot night." Wanting to slam the door close. But you know you can't. The two men stare and watch you with this penetrating gaze. As if they're waiting for an on-the-spot confession. Or expect a sound coming from within the house.

"And wizh who… did we… have the pleasure of talking?" The way he voiced the question was slow, but overly intimidating. The accent not helping him.

"Nathan." You said fluently without any hesitation in your voice. And without a second thought. "I'm Nathan Drake."

"Alright, Mister Drake." The first policeman nodded and locked his thumbs in his belt. "Could you spell out your last name?" He watched his other colleague whipping out a booklet and pen.

But both clattered to the floor. Their faces contort with pain. Both men jolted on their spot. Spasms rocked their bodies as you spotted Nathan behind them. Unable to control their muscles. Pressing something to the back of their necks. In reflex, they try to reach for it, but the voltage is way too high, and a second later, their conscious slips and muscles give in. Crashing to their knees and head face-first into the floor. Nathan stood proud behind them, dual-wielding your modified tasers. "That wasn't very clever, (Y/N)..."

"This is…?!" You hiss and run a hand through your hair. Passing back and forth the hallway. Nathan meanwhile checked their pulses. A thousand thoughts and more race through your mind. The one more conflicting than the other.

"They're alive." He smiled while glancing at you. "Lend a hand, will ya?" Pulling on the arm of one of the officers. Dragging the body along the floor into the penthouse.

"What are you doing?" Stopping him. "They'll wake up... in here. I definitely don't want that." Nathan blatantly drops the body he's trying to drag. Propping his arms to his sides. Beginning to get annoyed too.

"You want to throw them out of the building or what?"

"I wanted to let them leave! Which they were about to do!"

"You used my name! They were gonna check it... and then come back here!"

"Still the better outcome." You shoot back. "Their station expects a response within the next few minutes, which they don't get because of your stupidity." Kicking one of the tasers across the hallway. "You guess what happens next!"

"You don't have to lecture me! Cause this isn't ALL… my fault, (Y/N)!"

"If you just used the door, none of this would have happened!" And turn your back on him and walk away. A drink. A strong drink is what you needed right now. You were fuming. Hot with anger and rage.

"Would you just let me-…" Nathan called out, hearing his footsteps follow you. Not finishing his sentence. "...-how about working on a solution?" A hand takes hold of your shoulder. Nathan's firm grasp. Pulling you. "There are pl-..."

A dull thud cracked through the room. A burning sensation and stinging pain pulsed through your hand. Nathan looked at you bewildered. His hand reached for the side of his face. The very spot you just landed a blow against.

It hurt Nathan for sure. A balled fist. Right to the side of his face. It happened in the heat of the moment. Clouded by anger and rage.

The pain in your hand grew. The knuckles turned red, and your fingers began to feel numb. That entire punch had reverberated through your body. You were shaking on your feet. Cradling one hand with the other. You stare at each other. You point out your suitcase, but the words stoke in your throat. "That's… That's what y-y-y-…."

You saw it coming, but also not. A cracking blow connected to the side of your head. The world spun on its axle, as a haze of colors blurred your vision. Your brain short-circuited for a brief second. It sends you stumbling on your footing. Trying to blink away the blur and dizziness, you stumble left and right. Nathan's blow hit fast and hard. You felt it through your entire body. For what it's worth, the anger had subsided. It cleared your head. But the pain was something else. The headache. Your jaw. "W-We're… even n-now." Nathan breathed out. "Fuckin' hell." Rubbing his cheek and gives himself a breather by leaning against the back of a couch. "This… escalated way… quickly."

"You fucking… suck..." And cough a little finding your balance against the table. A few meters opposite Nathan. Allowing for a moment of self-reflection. You both come to your senses. "I don't have time… for this..." Trying to shake the growing headache, you head towards your laptop and stuff.

"Hold up…." Following you after testing his balance the first few steps. "You're bleeding."

With big sweeps of your arm across the table, you collect as many papers as you possibly can into one large pile. To add to your growing frustration, important ones will fold, crease, and might lose crucial details. But you have to live with it for now. Stuffing it quickly into the folder, you continue on the large maps, folding them in on themselves.

Nathan was right. Drops of blood fell onto the paper. Forming large stains, seeping onto the underlying ones.

"Stop…" Nathan's hand smashes into yours, pulling it from the papers and documents. His other hand forces you away from the table, pressing a white napkin to your nose. "Talk to me…" Forcing eye contact up close. Wiping the blood from your nostrils with the touch of a lover's stroke. "What's the plan?"

"There isn't, Nathan. This is all I have." Pointing out the suitcase lying open, contents messy and partially spilled across various chairs. Partly because he had dug around and found the tasers, he used. "I need to gather my stuff as quickly as I can and get out of here."

"Wait…(Y/N)." Cradling the side of your face on the inside of his hand. Thumb stroking your cheek. Trying to control you. "Isn't that… a-… a… bit overreacting?"

"No, Nathan. They know my face. Your name. Europe isn't safe anymore."

"What? No… I don't follow." He looked at you confused. "You think they'll connect us?"

"I rather not find out. I can't travel by plane, train or boat. Not to mention cross a border like any normal person would. I have no time to lose. Thanks to you..."

"What kind of guilt trip are you dragging me-..."

"You changed everything, Nathan!" Tears welled in the corner of your eyes. "Always and everywhere! For years I saw you as my nemesis. A healthy competitor."

"We… still have that rivalry." He stuttered a little, taken aback by your show of emotions.

"Yes… And I'm thankful you saved me on that little gold treasure hunt. Spared me. Even shared with me. Yet you continued to hunt… less treasures… and more me… like an animal."

"C'mon. You and I got something. Like we always did, like the old days, you know, part the game-..."

"THIS ISN'T A GAME!" You yelled at him with all the bottled-up frustration finding its release. "You destroyed everything… I had Nathan! You and I were rivals and petty fugitives to the law. Treasure hunters. Mere annoyances to the system. But you changed my life forever! Because of you… I became a criminal, a tax evader, a smuggler, and a world… wide… criminal! You are the reason I have a bounty on my head!" Nathan took it all in. Watching you. You imagine him picking his next words wisely. But you know Nathan better than anyone by now. "Yet here I am… Here we are…"

"We changed." He whispered, slowly easing his lips from the kiss. "The thrill of the chase… The hunt. It has changed us. Who we are. Who we trust. And how we see the world."

"That's it?!" You try to step away, back out of this idiotic reasoning.

"Wait…" Nathan didn't allow you. A serious and concerned look crept into his expression. "I'm working my way to an apology." Pulling you back in. "I need you… t-to listen to me."

"Nathan… I-...." Your anger was sealed and locked by his lips again.

"Whatever changed, for the good or the better. I'm sorry for what I did. And what I might do in the future. I'm far from perfect. But I'm just as lost as you are. We're always on the run. If it's not from the law, then it's from ourselves or each other. Pushed by our feelings."

"I'm not lost." Trying to blink away the tears. "I… d-don't know what you're trying to get at."

"You keep telling yourself that. It's instinctual. It's a habit by now. Each treasure map I look at, each clue and trail I follow, each puzzle I solve. I keep finding myself… tracing back to you. We always find each other."

"What are you trying to say, Nathan?"

"I live out of a backpack I left out on the roof. Just like you. I have nothing left." Cradling your face with both his hands. Tears welling in the corner of his eyes. "I know what you feel." Slowly letting his forehead rest against yours. "I want your trust. I need it." His voice cracked, trying to contain his emotions. "I need you… to trust me." Reinforcing his words with a kiss. Deep and lingering. Holding you. "Please… I know it's hard after all I've done. And that it feels like starting all over again. That there's no light at the end of the tunnel. But I know a way out. Away from here. From…our… past. Our… way out."

"If I do… If we do… Is that even possible?"

"If you take this step, I promise you… you won't regret it." Pressing his lips to you. "Please… (Y/N)." He begs you, glancing over his shoulder. Time is ticking. And you know it all too well. "I will set right the wrong I did. I promise… whatever comes next. Whatever you choose. I'll be the best version of myself... for you..."

"W-Where would we… g-go if we run?”

"I'll think of something." Nathan smiled thinly, wiping the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. A sparkle of hope filled his eyes. "Far away from here. We get a car… somewhere. And just drive. There are enough mysteries around the world for us… to discover and unearth. I want to do that… with you. Instead of against you."

"Is that… why you're here?"

"I'll take a bullet for you, (Y/N)." He kissed you and pulled you in for a tight hug. It almost felt like a goodbye regardless of what he offered. As if he came to peace with whatever decision you'd make.

"If you don't want to… take this…" A trembling hand passes you one of his guns. Folding your fingers onto the grip. Turning the gun in your hand against his own. The cold steel weighed heavily in your hands as the barrel poked into his stomach.

"Shoot me… Make it look the way you want. You decide what happens next…" A tear rolled down his cheek as he gazed lovingly at you. "Thank you for listening to me." As the tear continued to roll, it caught the crease of his lips—a tender smile growing. "I know I'm insufferable."

[jammie3132]

Fandom: Glee Pairing: Blaine Anderson & Sebastian Smythe Story Summary: After a fight with Kurt, Blaine goes running back to Ohio…again! The problem is he doesn’t have Dalton to run back to. Chapter 1 Title: Are You Happy? Chapter 1 Summary: Blaine is back in Ohio after a fight with Kurt. His friends are determined to not let him fall back into old patterns Notes: 10 Days of Seblaine Week 2023 Day 3: Dalton

Canon through Season 6 with exception of 5 year time jump.

❤️🎉HAPPY ANNIVERSARY EVERYONE 🎉❤️

Ladies and gentlemen, we are beginning our approach. Please prepare for landing. Welcome to Columbus. It is currently 62 degrees…

Blaine put his tray table up and his laptop in his carry on. This was NOT the trip he expected to be taking this week.

“Kurt! I’m home! You’ll never guess…what’s going on?”

“Isabelle got me a showing for my accessories at Paris Fashion Week! Can you believe it?”

“Um…isn’t Paris Fashion Week next week? Our anniversary is next week. We’re going to Hawaii on the Honey…the trip we postponed last year because Isabelle’s assistant got the flu and she insisted she’d never survive Paris Fashion Week without you. And the year before that because... You know, I can't remember what excuse you used that time."

“Oh, yeah. I forgot. But Blaine, this time it’s for our future. It's not the same.”

“Yes, yes, it is.”

“Come with me. We can enjoy the city during our down time. Support me like I supported you at the Grammys.”

“You didn’t go. You decided it wasn't worth missing your classes the next day because my category wasn’t televised.”

“Not this again. It was 3 months ago and you didn’t win. Get over it.”

“You did not just say that.”

“Look, I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. And I’m sorry I’m postponing our vacation again. I’m not sorry I’m going to Paris. Stop being so difficult.”

“Just go. I’ll go back to Ohio for the Groundbreaking Ceremony at Dalton. I was disappointed when I found out we couldn’t attend because we’d be in Hawaii. Since that’s no longer an issue…”

“Oh, hell no! I saw Sebastian Smythe’s name on the list of committee members. I’m not letting you go anywhere near that asshole without me.”

“Uh…excuse me. You’re forbidding, literally forbidding, me from going to Dalton’s Groundbreaking?"

"That's not what I meant."

"But it was what you said. You know how important Dalton was to me. I was devastated...”

“How important could Dalton have been if you left just because I asked you to?”

“Fuck you!”

“Blaine, don't…where are you going?”

“Ohio!”

*SLAM*

Three hours later Blaine finally relaxed when a friendly face opened his door and gave him a hug. “Get in here” Sam said, pulling him into his apartment. “Did you leave your luggage in the rental?”

“Nope. In my dramatic exit I only grabbed my school bag.”

“Good thing I’ve still got the stuff you forgot the last time you were here. For once my procrastination paid off.”

“You didn’t procrastinate, you've been busy. I remember how crazy it was preparing the Warblers for Sectionals. The New Directions are trying to three-peat at Nationals in a few weeks…big difference. I feel like an ass taking up your time, but I just couldn’t face my mom’s interrogation. At least not tonight. I mean it would be stupid if I didn’t stay with her when I go to Dalton.”

“But…”

“If you say one word about how I used to make that drive all the time, I’ll tell your new girlfriend about the time Sue was hypnotizing you and…”

“Hey! I had no control over what I was doing! And it’s not fair to use that stuff against me when I don’t remember any of it.”

“Except sleeping with Rachel.”

“I wasn’t hypnotized for that” Sam told him with an added wink.

Blaine’s phone went off (his mother not husband) so Sam went to his hall closet and brought out the box he’d stored there. Since Pam was on a tangent, it gave him time to go to the kitchen and make some calls of his own. He had a plan for his best friend and wanted to confirm the pieces were in place.

When he returned with drinks, Blaine was laying back on the couch rubbing his temples. Pam had that effect on people. “You’re going to have to go to Target for underwear and stuff like that. I’ve got a toothbrush…”

“Sam, what aren’t you telling me?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You got kind of defensive when I mentioned your new girlfriend.”

“I know” Sam sighed as he rejoined Blaine on his couch. “It’s just, I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you this. My girlfriend already knows about everything that happened with Sue, and Rachel.”

“Ok? Why is it so hard to tell me you told your girlfriend?”

“I didn’t have to tell her. I’m dating Kitty.”

Did not see that coming! “Kitty? Kitty Wilde?”

“Yes, and we have a date tonight. So do you.”

“You realize I’m still married, no matter how pissed I am at Kurt.”

“Not like that. I called a friend and he’s taking you to Scandals to get drunk and forget how big a jerk your husband is.”

“Who did you call?”

“It’s a surprise. You have time for a shower and nap. After you called, I went to the store and got a bunch of your favorite Kurt did something stupid comfort food. Please eat something before you go to Scandals so you don’t get drunk on your second beer.”

Blaine wanted to give a snarky comeback but didn’t because Sam was right. “Thanks, Blond Chameleon.”

“Anytime NightBird.”

Because he wasn’t getting picked up until later in the evening, Blaine had time to run to Target. There was also enough time to visit with Kitty before she and Sam left on their date. He had to admit he was having a little trouble getting past the whole former football coach/cheerleader thing. It was only 3 years ago.

But if they wanted to relive that time in private…

Oh God, now it’s worse.

At 9PM on the dot the doorbell rang. He was not prepared for who was standing in front of him. “David? What are you doing here?”

“Taking you to Scandals? “Ready?”

Dave Karofsky? Sam called the guy he broke up with and then married Kurt a week later? Sending them to the place where they reconnected after he returned to Ohio when Kurt ended their engagement? Well, if Dave is here, he must be fine with it.

“Sure, just let me get my phone.”

“No phone. You’re going to drink and talk to me and the others. No checking your phone every 10 minutes to see if Kurt called. Sam was very specific with his directions but I’m pretty sure Kitty was the actual mastermind.”

“Sam and Kitty…I wouldn’t check my phone…” Then it dawned on him. “Did you say others? Who?”

“No idea. Let’s go. I don’t want to give up any more of my time because you’re overthinking what’s going on.”

Blaine shook his head and chuckled. This was nice. “You know me so well.”

It was all small talk until they were settled in a back booth at Scandals and each halfway through their first beer. “Do you remember what you promised me when you came over to tell me you’d married Kurt?”

“David, I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve any of that.”

“You’re right, I didn’t” Dave told him with a confidence Blaine didn’t remember. It looked good on him. “Now answer my question. Do you remember your promise?”

Oh yeah, he remembered. “To not lose myself in my relationship with Kurt again. To do what was right for me, even if Kurt threw a hissy fit. And I have, most of the time. Sometimes that’s not how marriage works.”

“And yet you’re sitting here with me and your husband is on his way to Paris. Weren’t you supposed to be in Hawaii for your Spring Break? On the honeymoon you never took? We both know that weekend in Rhode Island didn’t count.”

“How do you…Sam?” Dave nodded his response, not giving him a chance to go off topic, which they both knew Blaine would try. “When we had our fight, I couldn’t say the word honeymoon. I just reminded him it was our anniversary. It wouldn’t have made a difference. Kurt was going to Paris no matter what I said.”

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

Shit! He noticed. “No, but I’m getting better at it. At least I think I am, but he makes it so fucking hard!” Blaine stopped to finish his beer and motion to the waitress he wanted another. If those coming later were anything like Dave, he needed to get a good buzz going. “I was so happy when I got home but he didn’t give a chance to tell him my news!”

“You can tell me. I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to.”

Blaine thought about it, but not for long. The thought Kurt had to be the first one he told was gone. “Do you know about the song writing contest I won at NYU?”

“Who doesn’t? The prize was it would be recorded by a major artist and put on their next album. None of us expected Celine Dion or that the song would be nominated for Pop Song of the Year at the Grammys. By the way, you should have won.”

“Thanks.” Blaine tried to push out the memory of Kurt’s earlier comment but couldn’t. “Celine was asked to record a song for a movie, a big…big movie, but she hated what they sent her. She told the studio she’d do it, but she wanted me to write a new song.”

Dave rushed around the table and crushed him in a bear hug…maybe bear was a poor choice of words. “Oh my God! That’s huge! What’s the movie?”

“I shouldn’t say…in case things don’t work out.”

“Blaine…”

“Ok, it’s Deadpool 2.”

Dave pulled back, a blank expression on his face. “Are you shitting me? Seriously, are you shitting me? The first one is my favorite movie of all time!”

“I remember.”

“And Sam! He’s going to freak that you’re going to write a song for a comic book movie!”

“If they use it.”

Once again, Dave tightened his hold, this time even harder. “You are a Grammy nominated song writer and Celine fucking Dion asked you to write her a song for fucking Deadpool 2. Stop doubting yourself.”

“Ok, the walk down memory lane is over. Time for the male hobbit to forgo the sugar coating and get some tough love from Auntie Snixx.”

Dave whispered Good Luck before leaving. Blaine wasn’t sure if his abrupt exit was part of the plan, animosity toward one of the masterminds of his ambush wedding to Kurt or not wanting to piss off the girl who once told him she had razor blades in her hair.

Did it matter? Yeah, it did. Their time together made him realize how much he missed him. He’d like them to be friends again…if it wasn’t too weird for Dave.

His long awaited second beer arrived, but Santana declined anything stating she wouldn’t be there much longer. She then pulled out her phone and smiled a smile Blaine had seen enough to know it meant trouble. “What are you doing here Lopez?”

“In Ohio? Lord Tubbington needed an intervention for his latest addiction…Internet porn.”

Blaine didn’t question her explanation which for some reason made perfect sense. “I meant here…at Scandals.”

“Sammy called. He needed help getting in contact with the third ghost of Blaine Warblers past.”

“You are not a ghost from my past. I see you at least once a week.”

“Then Karofsky’s your past, I’m your present and the next person can be your future. Guess that makes you and your pissy mood Scrooge.” Santana took a deep breath and folded her hands on the table. “I’m only going to say this once and if you tell anyone, I’ll deny it…then cut off your balls.”

That was interesting. Interesting enough he prepared for what she was going to say by taking a big swig of beer. “Deal”

“I’m sorry.”

“Foooor?”

“I should’ve never let Britt talk me into the double wedding. She only remembered high school Klaine and then depressed Blaine who missed Kurt. She wasn’t here for the engagement and she definitely was around for toxic NYC Klaine. I was.”

For the second time since he arrived in Ohio, Blaine didn’t have a comeback because the person across from him was telling the truth. Was it progress to admit what they were saying were truths? “You didn’t have faith we’d make it?”

“Once I was out of the happy bubble of my wedding day? No, not a chance in hell. You and Hummel got back together only a few days before. You needed time to either work out the issues you had the first time or realize you were in a never-ending cycle, doomed to failure.”

“Wow, tell me how you really feel.” Blaine downed the rest of his beer for time to come of with a reasonable response. Like that was going to happen. “I thought we were ready.”

“Why? Because you went to therapy and a had rebound relationship with Karofsky?”

“Never, I mean never, say crap about Dave! I don’t care about shit that went down in high school. He didn’t deserve what I did to him, no matter what he did back then!”

Santana tilted her head then nodded, showing she was both stunned and impressed by Blaine’s outburst. “You obviously misunderstood Anderson. Was your relationship with Karofsky on anyone’s bingo card? No. Did some people think you were with him as revenge for Hummel ending your engagement? Yeah, probably more than you realize. But I know you had feelings for Dave, just not love. He was the wrong person at the right time.”

“Then who was the right person?”

“The guy who just walked in the door.” She took hold of his hands and asked “Do you remember when we went to Dalton to hear the Warblers sing MJ and they did I Want You Back? How I said we were in big trouble?” Blaine nodded because seeing Sebastian had rendered him speechless. “I didn’t mean for Regionals. The New Directions were in trouble because we were going to lose you. If that Slushie didn’t happened, you would’ve eventually gone back to Dalton. Not for the Warblers but for a Warbler…Smythe. You looked at him in a way I never saw between you and Hummel…ever.”

“San…”

“Just talk to him. Listen to him. And listen to the voice in your, thankfully no longer plastered into submission, head.”

“Hey” Sebastian said upon his arrival at their table, unsure of what he was doing there in the first place. Other than fear of what Santana Lopez would do if he’d declined, of course.

Santana stood to leave, kissed Blaine on the cheek, then took hold of Sebastian’s arm. “Thank you for coming but if you fuck this up, they’ll never find your body.”

“Understood.” Then as a shock to both men, she kissed his cheek before leaving. “That…that…my younger self would never believe that just happened” Sebastian stammered as he took the available seat. “I still live in fear of her revenge for the Slushie I threw at her. Sometimes I wish she would just get it over with. I mean, how many …don’t answer that. I remember. I’ve always remembered.”

Their missing waitress appeared out of nowhere, obviously due to Sebastian. Even though Blaine hadn’t finished his current beer, he went ahead and ordered one for each of them. Hopefully they’d arrive before the girl realized she worked in a gay bar.

They did.

The tension was awkward, but since Sam had gone to a lot of trouble to put this evening together, Blaine decided the least he could do was see it through. “How’s the Groundbreaking preparation going?”

“Crazy” Sebastian told him, but the former Warbler Captain instantly broke out a smile. “But it’s Dalton crazy so…”

“Organized chaos” Blaine finished for him. “How did you get involved?”?

“Long story.”

“Good. We can get comfortable while we get up the nerve to talk about whatever Santana told you.”

“She didn’t tell me anything. I had no idea you’d be here. In fact, shouldn’t you be in Hawaii? It’s the reason you declined your invitation.”

Blaine was still reeling from hearing Sebastian didn’t know he’d be here. As much as he wanted to ask how Santana convinced him to come, he decided it was safer not to know. “Kurt was offered a business opportunity in Paris, but that’s a conversation we should save until you’ve caught up to me. I’m on my third beer and I’m not the lightweight I used to be.”

“Challenge accepted.” Sebastian took a good-sized drink and looked for the waitress. She must have figured out flirting was a waste of time since she was nowhere to be seen. Fortunately, one of the bartenders remembered Sebastian from the old days who took care of him. “So, we talk about Dalton for now?”

“For now.”

“Ok, then I got involved because the Reopening Committee asked. It’s my Spring Break so I have a lot of extra time.”

Before everything went to hell between them, Blaine learned some of Sebastian’s telltale ticks. If he tapped his fingers on the table, he wasn’t telling the whole truth. He never lied. He just had a habit of leaving out important details. Right now, he was practically tapping the drum solo to In The Air Tonight.

“It’s my Spring Break too, which makes sense since I'm supposed to be in Hawaii. Where did you wind up going to college?”

“Stanford”

“Not Harvard like your dad. I bet that went over like a led balloon.”

“Ding, ding, ding…200 points to the Grammy nominee.”

“You heard about that? Never mind, seems a lot of people have.”

“You’re kidding, right? Everyone knew you’d end up in music, we just didn’t know how. But I have a question. When I read about your nomination, the article said you won a song writing contest at NYU. What happened to NYADA?”

“Kurt broke off our engagement, crippling depression caused my work to suffer, NYADA cut me.”

“They cut you? Depression that bad should've gotten you a medical excuse.” “My parents’ lawyers said the same thing. NYADA cleared my record, refunded my tuition, and when I refused to go back, the Director of NYADA convinced Tische into accepting me despite the fact I’d missed all application deadlines.”

“Let me guess, after NYADA (air quotes) fixed everything, you and your parents didn’t sue.”

“Ding, ding, ding…500 points to the Stanford man.” The tapping went into overdrive. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Sebastian moved his hands to his lap. “You remembered?”

“You’d be surprised how much I remember about you.“ Oh shit! Time to stop drinking.

Either his comment went over Sebastian’s head, or he was polite enough not to push the subject. “Let’s just say you weren’t the only one to switch colleges. I’m not at Stanford anymore. I’m at OSU.”

Huh? “Your turn to spill what happened.”

Sebastian finished his beer and signaled the bartender for another. They were both well aware this would be his third. According to their agreement, it was time to talk about the hard stuff. “Do you remember, back when we were friends, and you asked what was something I could never have but wanted more than anything?”

“Of course. You said my ass.”

“True, but then I said…”

Blaine’s eyes flew open even though they were heavy from the alcohol. “You told your father off? How you hated him for all the crap he’d put you and your mother through? Oh my God, what did he say?”

“You’re cut off.”

“Oh shit!” While Blaine was in disbelief (but in total awe at the same time) Sebastian seemed fine…peaceful. “That’s why you left Stanford? He even cut off tuition?”

“Everything. But Blaine, it was the best thing to happen to me.”

Huh? “What do you mean?”

“He no longer has control over me. I make all my own decisions. I’ll admit I was lucky this pissed off my grandmother, his mother. She gave me the equivalent of what I would inherit when she died. It didn’t take my finance classes for me to realize living in California, near San Francisco, was going to drain the money in less than 10 years. I finished the semester at Stanford then moved here.”

Blaine couldn’t take his eyes off Sebastian. He was practically glowing, and not from the beer. “You look really happy.”

“I am and it’s not just being free of my father. Dalton plays a huge role in what I call my recovery.”

“Dalton? How?”

“I’m not just working on the Groundbreaking. I work part time for Dalton. I’m still working on my Finance Degree, so I’ve been helping with fundraising. OSU gives me credit for practical experience. I’m also getting a degree in Education Administration.”

Excuse me?! “You? Sebastian Smythe are going to be Dalton’s Head Master?”

“Oh, hell no! I’m going to teach French and work as an assistant to the Head Master…title pending. The Head Master has to handle crap like curriculum and faculty. I’ll be in charge of budgets and making sure students don’t do stupid shit…title pending. The idea was who's better for the job than someone who broke practically every rule. There’s not a lie or excuse I won’t see right through.”

When Blaine found out his best friend was taking over the New Directions, Sam asked if he was jealous. His answer of a little was true. He had loved coaching the Warblers. But what Sebastian was doing? He wasn’t a little jealous. He was so jealous his heart hurt. “Are you happy?”

“Extremely. I know everyone expected me to be a lawyer or CEO. I’d rather work at Dalton and not have high blood pressure and ulcers by the time I’m 30. I suppose I’ve grown up.”

“I suppose you have.”

Sebastian took a chance to reach over for Blaine’s hand and was pleasantly surprised when he didn’t pull away. “Killer, when was the last time you were truly happy? Not with something in your marriage, or Kurt in general. Something that was only about Blaine Devon Anderson.”

Was it sad he couldn’t answer immediately? Blaine wanted to say his song writing. How he’d been asked to write a song for a movie. Neither was the truth. “When I was coaching the Warblers before the fire. My life was a mess, but for those few hours a day, safe inside the walls of Dalton, I was genuinely happy.”

Sebastian didn’t look surprised. “If you have time, you should come help with the Groundbreaking. Or, even if you don’t have time, could you please, please, please come help with the Groundbreaking? Some of the bigger donors asked what the Warblers were performing…yesterday. As of now, there’s no performances scheduled, just speeches. You, former Warbler and musical savant, showing up like this is basically a miracle. Unless you say you won’t do it. No pressure. You obviously have a lot to deal with, but please, please pretty please.”

It sounded perfect, but he didn’t want Sebastian to know Dalton was the reason he was back in Ohio. Kurt forbidding him from coming would somehow come out and he didn’t need that getting around. It was beyond embarrassing. “I have time and even if I didn’t, I would’ve found a way. Can we have lunch tomorrow and keep catching up…no matter how difficult it might be?”

Sebastian smiled as Sam and he assumed Kitty walked in. The only reason he wasn’t sure was because she was tiny, and every single McKinley Warbler was scared shitless of her. “B, your designated drivers are here.”

“Not quite Eiffel Tower…”

“Eiffel Tower?” Blaine and Sebastian asked in unison.

Kitty rolled her eyes at them, but Sam thought it was funny. “They’re both tall and French.” She rolled her eyes again when not only Sam, but Blaine and Sebastian, began to laugh uncontrollably. “Anyway…” she said in a way Sebastian suddenly understood why the guys were terrified of her “It’s late, you’ve been drinking and none of us are making the drive to Westerville and back. You’re staying with Tana and Brittany at the Pierce’s. Give me your keys. I’m driving you.”

The guys all began laughing again. They were so loud the other bar patrons could hear them over the music. “You…you?” Sebastian tried to say between breaths. “I don’t think my seats go up that far!!”

Sam pulled himself together. Kitty was almost at her Santana level. “I’ll drive Sebastian’s car. You and Blaine follow in mine.”

“No, I want to talk to the jackass about me and the McKinley Warblers singing Blaine’s song at his fancy shindig on Saturday.”

That got Blaine’s attention. “My song?”

“Rise…the one you wrote when Dalton burned down.”

Blaine quickly got up, and once the room stopped spinning, he grabbed his jacket. “I’ve got to get back to Sam’s. I need my laptop.”

Sam didn’t like the sound of that. Kurt had been calling Blaine’s phone throughout the evening. He hoped his plan hadn’t been for naught with his best friend wanting to Skype his husband. “Why?”

“My song writing software is on it. I’ve got an idea.”

NOTES:

I read somewhere Klaine’s original “introduction” in the 5 year time jump had Blaine as a Grammy nominated song writer and Kurt with a popular accessories line…no Virgina Wolfe. I went with that narrative.

Season 6 Wedding: Episode 6x08 2/20/2015. However, there was no fear of snow or cold, and that barn was VERY open. This is why I moved the anniversary to April/Spring Break.

Dalton Fire: Episode 6x10 3/10/15. While in canon it was 2 weeks later, I moved it to 1 week.

[skylarmoon71]

Lex Luthor (Smallville) AU Chapter 18 -Final

Like most vacations, you need to return to the real world. Your parents are all hugs and kisses, and Lex takes the remainder of the week off to join you on campus for a while. You’re ready to get back to work, and it’s even better when you get out of class and Lex is there waiting for you. He’s still carrying around that laptop of course. Work never stops.

You both meet at a cafe. He’s already ordered your drink and you smile when you get over there.

“Sorry it took so long.”

You take a seat with a grin, leaning over to whisper.

“Kind of hard to speed around with so many people.” He smiles.

“I’m glad you’re being responsible. “

You lean back with a grin and Lex takes a sip of his coffee. He’s working on some project, and it’s then you seem to notice a few eyes on your table. You tilt your head to get a gist of some of the whispers.

“That guy is so hot and he looks like a billionaire.”

“Is that her boyfriend?”

“Isn’t that Lex Luthor, I heard he’s loaded. “

“She looks so plain.”

You tune out, shaking your head. Lex is oblivious to the words. His legs are crossed as he’s casually running through his work. You’re not naive. The both of you are polar opposites. You really wish you could say it doesn’t bother you. Wherever he goes, attention is drawn. You can’t help but feel a bit insecure. 

Maybe he senses the unease, because his eyes lift. He scans the area. You know he sees it now. He closes the laptop. You fidget in your spot, because you know he’s going to say something sweet and supportive.

Lex places the laptop down and leans over. You’re stunned when he kisses you. Right there. His hand slides behind your neck and you blush. The hushed voices seem a bit louder now. He nibbles on your lower lip and when he pulls back, he smirks.

“That should give them something to talk about. Let’s get out of here.” 

At this point you’ll agree to anything. You nod and he takes your hand, whisking you away.

It feels nice to be away from prying eyes. When you’re back in the comfort of your dorm.

“My roommate is gone for the weekend so at least we don’t have to worry about that."

You weren’t sure you could deal with anyone else fawning over Lex right now.

“Oh, trying to get me alone.” Your cheeks flush. 

Because the plan was to share the bed tonight. Lex is staying in a hotel nearby so you know he can return to it at any time

“T-That’s not what I was trying to do!”

He just laughs.

“You can walk through fire and lift cars but when it comes to this you’re so easily rattled.” 

He likes teasing and you huff. Somehow it adds to your insecurities and when he sees the crestfallen expression he moves closer.

“I was only joking. I’m sorry did I go too far?”

You shake your head with a sigh, taking a seat on the bed. Lex follows, waiting for you to speak.

“It’s just lately it feels like I have to prove why we’re together. I know you’re older and you’re more experienced in a lot of ways. The longest relationship I’ve had was with someone I convinced myself was the person for me. But so much has changed and I just..I feel like a kid sometimes being next to you. I know it’s not your fault. It’s just irritating."

He understands. Even Clark had some insecurities. Chasing after Lana for years. Constantly going through trials and sometimes losing the people close to him because of his powers. His secret. He supposed living a life like that made certain doubts hard to escape.

“The both of us are still trying to figure this out. I can’t say that I have all the answers, but the one thing I’m certain about is how I feel about you.” 

You look up, and it just reinforces what he already knows.

“I’ve never been able to be fully myself with anyone but you. I rely on you in ways I didn’t think possible. I have doubts the same as you. One thing you should never doubt is us. I don’t care what others think or say. You’re the one I want to spend my life with.”

His words are a shock. You know how strong your feelings are for him, but hearing him admit that is better than you expect.

Your look of surprise catches up to him. He looks away.

“I’m not trying to trap you in a long term commitment or anything like that.” You smile. 

Because now he’s the one feeling a bit unsure. It’s cute how he tries to skillfully play off those words. You realize that there will always be times where you’re not sure what to say. How to act. But it’s clear that what you have with Lex, it’s real and beautiful.

“How about we compromise, whenever either of us feel those thoughts creep up, we do this.”

You take his hand in your own, and you press a kiss to the back of his palm.

“We just be there, to listen, support. Love.”

He couldn’t have said it better.

Lex mirrors the action, leaving a kiss at the back of your hand.

“Promise?” He whispers.

You smile.

“Promise.” 

[victorluvsalice]

However, there are only so many puzzles you can do, as my family found out during the height of the pandemic. So it wasn't long before the gang started doing their own things again -- Smiler hopped back on their laptop to start modding Blicblock; Alice got back on the old travel easel and started painting again (first another surreal painting, then a flirty painting), and Victor went out in the rain to practice his Mischief magic -- and immediately learned Burgliate, the spell that lets you steal stuff. XD Welp then! Unsure what to do with him after that, and not wanting him to stay out in the rain (or, accurately, out in the THUNDERSTORM -- as you can see by that picture of the poor fried snorkeler, things were getting dangerous out there!), I had him go inside to use the toilet, then upgrade that and the sink because, hell, we already did the bed. *shrug* It's all Handiness skill! He then went to join Smiler at the kitchen table with some leftover fish for breakfast, and the two shared a few cute flirts as Alice finished up her flirty painting and discovered it was a masterpiece! :) Only a 5K one, though, so I decided she could keep that one to display rather than selling it. :p I was just having her go in and hit the toilet while Victor cleaned up his breakfast dishes --

When who should show up but one Leila Illes, to ask Smiler AGAIN if they wanted to be best friends. O.O WTF -- we established this yesterday, Leila! You're too new a friend to get that label! Smiler sent her packing a little more tersely this time, and she slumped out, all dejected. I can't say I feel too sorry for her, though -- I've never had a Sim who, after getting rejected for best friendship the previous day, and with the negative sentiments still active, showed up the following day to try again! O.o What the hell, game...

ANYWAY -- with Leila having learned a few things about boundaries (we hope), the cuteness continued with Alice getting her breakfast (some nice crumpets) and she and Victor chatting at the table while Smiler finished up their mods. Smiler, feeling peckish themselves at this point, then asked for a drink from Victor, which he was happy to give...

And then I was like "well, it IS their honeymoon" and sent them to woohoo again. XD What, it kept them busy! Much like showering in the rain kept Alice busy. *sigh* I got her dressed again, then -- once Victor and Smiler were done with their woohoo -- sent her in to have a nice makeout with Victor while Smiler tested their Blickblock mods with a game. Victor then settled in for a nap while Alice went outside to dance...

And once Victor's energy was mostly full, I was like "oh screw this -- I kind of wanted them home for Spookfest anyway" and had the gang end the vacation early and head home.

...and then I had to reload the save I had fortunately made right before that decision (right about when Victor went to bed) because I was like "oh shit, I left all their fish and leftovers and stuff in the fridge!" So I quickly grabbed all that and THEN sent them home. *whew* There have been a lot of moments in this game lately that emphasizes the importance of saving at key moments, haven't there? Save often, people! You never know when it'll save you!