#I had a glass of wine while drawing this when I should’ve had a glass of milk to embody Leon fully… I don’t think he drinks alcohol

[mako-ink]

Leon WIPS I miss my wife

[hopelessromantic5]

SydCarmy clip

Artist Carmy

Sydney is his long lost muse.

TBC at a later date 💀

Carmen is a chef, that much is apparent.

But before that, he was an artist.

The notebooks that he kept hidden from the prying eyes of his disastrous family had been his only solace through a…turbulent childhood.

He would sketch whatever caught his eye. A specific bird with a pretty song. A wildflower on the playground that was shining extra bright in the sun.

As he grew, so did his art. Wobbly formations transformed into confident lines and lifelike shading. What was once inanimate became alive.

He drew what he knew. Sugar, Mikey, booths at The Beef, and most importantly, food.

It seemed that food was center of his existence. His mother, his brother, and then eventually, he himself was sucked into the love of food.

Maybe it started because no matter how many awful things they’d said to each other, dinner in the Berzatto house was never missed. They all sat, sometimes (most times) uncomfortably quiet. But still, they were together. A mess, but a mess that belonged to each other.

Maybe it was the way flavors on his tongue seemed to revive Carmy from the dead on days he didn’t think he wanted to be alive; bright mornings after a dreadful night of his mother screaming at him that he was useless, that he could never do anything right. All while she sobbed and shattered her wine glass against the wall.

But something about a breakfast sandwich from the Beef, perfectly curated by his brother, made him forget his life for long enough that he could ride to school in peace, sketching the layers to the egg and glazed bacon, the different cheeses, the perfectly toasted bun.

There was one awful attempt to draw this girl, Claire.

Carmen noticed her when she began hanging out with Mikey, which was already kind of a red flag. But for some reason, the sketches kept ending up distorted and, quite frankly, disturbing to look at. Carmen wound up ripping the pages out and burning them.

Of course, his notebooks and shading pencils began to form dust after Carmy gave his life over to cooking. Becoming a chef was exhausting, and maintaining life as a chef, a Michelin star retaining chef, was soul destroying.

Maybe it was just Carmen’s luck. Maybe he attracted assholes and bullies, people that liked to spit insults down his neck as he stood there and took it. Vomiting it back up, hours later in the alley.

Eleven Madison Park was the worst and best experience of his life. He wouldn’t be as good as he was without it, but he also wouldn’t be as fucked up, as mentally torn apart.

He didn’t think it couldn’t get any worse.

That is, until he got the call.

He should’ve known. Things can always get worse.

Yet, the ultimate dichotomy of the best and worst time of Carmy’s life was yet to come.

As he stood in the back of his dead brother’s collapsing, grease infested, death trap, an angel came to him.

Appearing in the form of a beautiful woman. Skin dark and rich, glowing with a shine all its own. Big, curious brown eyes nervously taking him in, announcing herself.

“Hi, hello. I-I’m Sydney, I called about the sous position? I’m staging today? I think you said I could stage today-“

Carmen’s head was completely fucked. He forgot about the lovely voice on the other end of the phone, after a long day of sarcastic, apathetic dickwads.

“Right! Shit, sorry. Yes, yeah. Carmy.” He gestured to himself.

He took her resume, and was blown away. Not only was she beautiful, she was also capable. Stacked by the CIA and extremely respected restaurants of Chicago.

He thought for a second that he may have been dreaming. The gods had answered his silent prayer of a reprieve in the form of this human goddess who was trained the same way Carmen was trained; knows the ins and outs of a kitchen the way he does. A true partner, in that way.

Nearly a year went by. Arguments were had and healed, copious amounts of cash was found amongst tomato sauce cans, and The Bear finally got off the ground running…after a few minor snags.

Carmy had resigned that night, in the walk-in, to call Claire one more time and end the entire thing, on top of apologizing vehemently. Apologize for ruining yet another good thing, another good person and then let her go on about her perfectly healthy life.

Carmen was ashamed to admit to himself, that he barely even liked her. Nothing was natural, everything felt like a show he was putting on for someone else. Maybe for Mikey, maybe for himself, who knows.

One thing Carmen did know, for sure; it was not good for him. Or the restaurant. Or her. His partner.

She took the worst of it, and Carmen will never forgive himself for that. She did everything, kept his dream alive, while he fucked off and pretended to be something he wasn’t.

Somehow, gratefully and graciously, he’d earned his way back into Syndey’s trust over these last few months. Carmy put his full focus into The Bear, as it should’ve been from the beginning. And he never let her forget that he was there for her, that they were partners. Even when shit got too overwhelming, too much, they would always be there.

They stood by that.

Things were…better than they’d ever been.

The kitchen worked seamlessly, every once in a while there was a small mishap. But that’s what a good kitchen is; one that can run even when the unpredictable happens.

And for The Bear, regular unpredictable is a cake walk compared to their original amount of unpredictable.

He and Sydney moved through the kitchen like two halves of one mind. Wordlessly knowing what the other will need before they have the chance to ask, small gestures of reassurance when they need it. His hand on the small of her back in passing, I’m here, it says.

Her soft smile directed his way when he quietly corrected a new hire on their technique, instead of flying off the handle.

Carmen hadn’t raised his voice that way in a while. While he went to Al-Non and saw Dick (his therapist [that’s his actual name, don’t blame Carmen]), he could credit his better sleep schedule and improved outlook on life to one individual particularly.

The more he saw Sydney, the more she came into his space, the longer she stayed, the more Carmen calmed. For the first time in his life, he was still, tranquil, happy.

It, whatever it was, that special drug, that magic, seemed to just radiate off her skin in waves of pure ethereal light.

She stood in his modest kitchen, throwing her head back laughing at something stupid he said. And Carmen knew peace.

Maybe that’s why the shading pencils that had been shoved into a carboard box in the back of his closet finally made a reappearance.

He was at the market on a random Monday, their one and only day off, when he saw a display of sketchbooks, at the end of an aisle.

Instinct made him throw one in his basket. Black with a singular word embossed on the front in gold.

Create.

Carmen’s immediate thought was: that’s cheesy.

At home, sitting on the couch tapping his leg in impatience , he narrowed his eyes at the sketchbook in the center of his kitchen table. He thought maybe it wasn’t such a bad cover.

The word was like an alarm, a reminder that he could always be doing something, creating something new.

As afternoon turned to evening, Carm didn’t notice. He hadn’t looked up.

For the last four hours, he had been practically dead to the world.

All that existed was the image in his mind and the empty pages sitting before him.

The sound of his phone ringing startled him out of his daze. Realizing all of once that he was starving, and he had to pee, and his phone was still ringing.

Fuck, the phone!

He caught it before it went to voicemail.

“Yo!” He was out of breath, for no reason.

“Yo, you good?” Sydney chuckled, poking at him. “Am I still coming over to cook or are you like…training for the marathon?”

“I could run.” He huffed. “You don’t know.”

The smile that he refused to acknowledge was difficult to keep out of his voice, but he managed.

“Ha! I don’t think any Berzatto even knows the definition of the word ‘run’. Except maybe Pete, but he doesn’t count.”

That made a laugh bubble up out of him.

“He does run. Nat complains about his early morning jogs sometimes.”

“Of course he jogs!” She bellowed, cackling on the other end. “Nothing worse than a jogger.” Followed quickly by. “Don’t tell Nat or Pete I said that.”

Carmen sucked his teeth and tilted his head as if weighing his options, though she couldn’t see him.

“I don’t know…”

“Carmen!” He loved this. He loved her.

“I’m fucking with you, Syd. I won’t tell Nat you think her husband is awful because he jogs.”

“Good. Thank you.” She sighed. “Nat loves me more, anyway. She would take my side.”

“Over her husband?” He asked incredulously.

“No, jackass, over you.” She laughed.

“Ouch. A jackass that got his sister stolen by his CDC. Might as well just end it then. Here I was, taking the jeans out of the oven, just for you.”

“Well, now I’ve caught you in a lie. You forget, I see your oven as often as you do, and I haven’t seen a single sighting of denim.”

“I wait til you leave, obviously.”

“Just shut up and buzz me in, weirdo.” He can hear her smile through the phone knowing that he was the one to put it there warmed his blood.

He was floating on a cloud as he made his way to the front door. Leaving it ajar after buzzing her into the building.

[melkmomma]

It’s movie night, and it’s my turn to pick. It always feels like you get like three turns in a row, and here I go about to waste my movie choice. Some things are in service of a greater goal.

I knock on your door with a bottle of wine, some edibles, and two bags of popcorn. The way we go through it, I probably should’ve brought a third bag. You’re behind the door, already in pajamas. You don’t have to walk home after, must be nice (joke). You take the wine and the popcorn, and I wrap my arm around your waist and kiss you, long and hard. You have that stupid grin on your face when I pull away, falling into me.

“I’ll get the wine, you get the popcorn?”

“Yes,” you say, drawing out the “y” sound and nodding. It’s a silly little thing you do, and it’s one of my favorites.

I go for the wine opener, and ask you if you want an edible. You don’t have anything to do tomorrow morning, I argue, so we can have a lazy morning. I’ll even try to make eggs, but I can’t guarantee their quality.

The edibles are chocolates. They’re 30mg each, but I don’t think you got a good look at them.

“They’re 10, how much do you want?” I ask, taking two pieces and putting the package back in my jacket pocket. You say you’ll take two. God, this is going to be fun.

Two glasses of wine and a bag of popcorn see us settled in your room.

“Where’s your pen? I just want more control over how long I’m high,”

You dig it out of the bedside cabinet, and hand it to me. I take a small hit, and wrap you in my arms. You’re sitting between my legs, leaning back against my chest. I offer you the pen, and you take it without thinking. I hand you your glass of wine before taking my own, pretending to take a sip. You can’t see my glass anyway.

It seems to take hours before the edibles kick in. You’re way too coherent. I don’t know how much longer I can help myself, but it won’t be as satisfying. I satiate myself with subtle touches as I reach for the popcorn and intermittently offering the pen. It’s about half way through the movie when your head lolls to the side, and you look sideways up at me. You have a serene kind of smile on your face.

“How’re you doing there, honey?”

“I’m doing so good. I’m,” You search for the words. “Not all here right now,”

“That’s okay baby,” I move your hair out of your face, “you don’t have to be here,” The popcorn bag is pretty much empty, perfect timing. I move it off of your lap, and my hand takes the vacant space. My other hand is playing with your hair. Your eyes are half closed; I’m not sure you notice when I bring my forearm across your chest and up to your throat.

You’re so gorgeous like this, so compliant and… easy. So soft, just begging to be touched. I’m not holding your throat very tightly, not yet. I want to let you be soft for while longer. Your thighs are so nice to touch. I reach up under your shirt, run my nails on your stomach, your chest. I touch your nipples lightly, pinching and pulling, not hard enough for you to react.

My hands move in opposite directions, one arm tightening slowly around your neck, the other tugging at your waistband. Your eyelids flutter, and you let out a little moan. You scrunch up your eyebrows.

“Shh princess, let me take care of you,” I’m at your hips now, moving towards your crotch. My grip on your throat is getting tighter. Your hands meet mine by your shoulders. You’re not pulling, not yet. I make contact with your clit, and your hips move to reach my fingers. You still look kind of confused; I find it amusing. Tonight, I’m here to be entertained.

I’m rubbing your clit, and your hands start to pull at the arm at your throat. I can feel you swallow, trying to move your neck a little, trying to let a little more oxygen into your brain. I love it when you’re stupid for me. I love when you make it easy for me.

“Maybe you’ve had a bit too much, honey. Are you feeling alright?” I’m still rubbing your clit, little circles to get you going. You’re so wet for me already, I can tell how much you want this. You want to let go, just be played with and not have to bother with things like saying yes or moving.

“Yeah, I think I might’ve,” stretching your neck and swallowing, “had too much,” you say, tugging at my arm.

“Shh, darling, let me take care of you. I’m going to make you feel so good. Don’t you want to be good for me?”

A grunt is the only response I get. That’s okay, I would’ve kept going anyway. My fingers play at your entrance.

“You’re so wet for me. I knew you wanted it, wanted me like this,” You’re almost grinding against my hand. “God, you’re being such a whore. Stoned, drunk, you’re practically begging,” Your hands are still tugging at my arm. “Did you want a break?”

Nodding, you keep tugging at me.

Leaning down, I whisper in your ear, “Ask me nicely,”

“Please,” you manage to squeeze out.

Since you asked so nicely, I decide to give you a break. “You’re taking it so well for me baby,” I say, kissing you on the temple.

[i’m pretending that my strap on is already in my pants so i don’t have to deal with all that crap rn <3]

Repositioning myself, I guide your fall and your head lands in my lap. With one hand in your hair, I pull your head up to ask, “How are you doing, sunshine?”

“I’m so high,”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. Just be good for me, okay? Open your mouth,” My cock looks so big in front of your soft, sleepy face. I put thumb on your bottom lip, gently opening your mouth. I don’t want to hurt you, after all. I guide you to the tip of my strap.

“That’s it baby, make me feel good,” I move your head in shallow strokes, enjoying the sight of the drool dripping down your chin. Once I get bored, I sit you up, wipe some of the spit off your bottom lip, and kiss you deeply. “You’re being so good for me, baby,”

You sigh and lean into me, burying your face in my neck.

“Lay down, honey, maybe you’ll feel better,” Another moan. I guide you down on the bed, face down, cheek pressed to the mattress. You mumble something that I didn’t quite catch.

“What was that, honey?”

“I’m sleepy,”

“Yeah, I bet you are sweetheart. Just let me take care of you, okay?”

You nod, and nuzzle into the mattress. I touch your hair; tenderly, lovingly.

Your shorts are easier to pull down than I was expecting. I spit into my palm, rubbing my strap. I don’t want to hurt you. But you’re so wet, I groan as I start to stretch you. I have to spread your ass to get at you. You’re so stunning like this. Just there waiting for me. I moan as my strap goes in, imagining I can feel how tight and wet you are.

I lower myself down onto you, knowing how much you like it when I put my whole weight on you. I move my hips slowly, kissing your shoulders and the back of your head. I don’t think you’re asleep anymore, if you ever were, but you’re not resisting.

“I love you so much, you’re so good for me. So pretty, making it so easy for me. You’re my good little slut. You just had too much weed, that’s all. It’s okay, I can take care of you,”

I know you and your body so well, I can tell when you’re going to cum for me. The constant stream of sweet nothings talk you through your orgasm. You make the prettiest faces when you cum.

Satisfied, I kick off my jeans, and lay down next to you. I give you a kiss on the forehead, lie down next to you, and drape my arm over you. “I love you,” I whisper. You mumble something I can’t quite make out.

[disgraceful-writings]

Love

Chapter 4

Prince Aemond hasn't been at the castle due to his brother's, the king, orders. Will it be worth lives?

Y/n lost herself when she lost her children. A part of her had been ripped and thrown into the wind. She didn’t care anymore. After returning to her chambers, she had the maid draw a bath. 

They cared for her while she sat, blankly staring at the fire nearby. They scrubbed the blood off of her and washed her hair with the gentleness they would a child. Afterwards, she was dressed and put to bed in fresh sheets. When sleep caught up to her, she dreamed of her boys. Rhagar running through the gardens with the dragon toy Alicent gifted him. Aemon in her arms, cooing at the world around him with his eyes wide. She could stay like this forever and be happy. With the sun rising, she quietly cursed the gods for giving her this fate. A maid entered the room with freshly made food, attempting to coax the princess out of bed. She reluctantly agreed to as her stomach growled. While she ate, the girl brushed her hair, and they sat with only the morning birds speaking. 

Aemond couldn’t sleep. He was the reason his boys were dead. He sat up all night staring at the blazing fire. If only he had told his brother no, he would be in the arms of his loving wife with their sons sleeping peacefully next to them. He would hold them close and never let go. Aemond had never cared for getting drunk, seeing what it did to his brother was enough deterrent. However, tonight, wine was the only substance that would be consumed. He thought of y/n. The dead look in her eyes she gave him earlier that day. He never wanted to see it again. He thought of Alys. A mistake he should’ve never made. He needs to tell his wife, plead for her forgiveness. But how could he? He is the reason for her turmoil, while she had done nothing but love and dote on him. He thinks back to their wedding night. How did she show him love when they only knew each other from paper? 

His goblet, now empty, clanged against the rock floor. His hands covered his face as he sobbed. Feeling his eye patch, the same one she removed with such delicacy because she wanted all of him, he throws it onto the floor. Standing abruptly and almost losing his balance, a mirror against the wall has taken his attention. “I’m a monster”, he whispered. He stepped closer to the mirror. He yelled, “I’m a monster!” With his fist, he shattered the glass, cutting himself in the process. His doors opened quickly, “Get the maester”, his mother said to the guards while grabbing something to wrap his hand. 

“Did any glass enter your hand?”

“No.” She sighed, moving him to sit.

“You smell like Aegon.”

“I’m a terrible person, mother.”

“Aemond-”

“No. No. I-I am the reason my sons are dead.” Tears begin to form in his eye. “And I have been a terrible husband.” At this confession, Alicent pauses wrapping his hand and looks at him. With a sob, he cries, “I have bedded another woman. Many times. She-she was there and-and I missed y/n so much. I never want to hurt y/n, I love her, but this woman. She entrapped me in a moment of weakness.”

“Does anyone know for certain that you have bedded this woman?” She continued to wrap his hand.

“No, I never told anyone, and I made sure after every time she wouldn’t either.”

“What is her name?”

“Alys. Alys Rivers.”

“Okay…no one will know. I will make certain.” She stood and kissed her son’s forehead. 

The maester entered and looked over his hand. Thankfully, he didn’t need to be sewn back, nor did any glass embed itself in his skin. “Your grace, princess y/n is waiting for you”, the maester calmly said to the queen. She nodded and gestured to her son to follow. He did so silently and with his head down. When they entered her chambers, y/n was sat in front of the fireplace holding the dragon toy Alicent gifted Rhagar with a tear in her eyes. 

“Why is he here? I told you I didn’t want him near me or my sons.”

“Aemond is still their father and deserves to be a part of their burial process.”

“No. They are my sons, not his. They may have his blood and features, but they have my blood and love. Something he stopped showing any of us after he left.” As she spat these words like venom on her tongue, Aemond stood stiff next to his mother. “They have never truly been his.”

“He is your husband-”

“Was. I don’t know who he is anymore.”

“He is still your husband in the eyes of the seven, and you have a duty to him to produce heirs.”

“You want heirs?” Y/n looks from Alicent to Aemond and stands to stride to him. “If you want an heir, fuck one into Alys Rivers.”

Aemond looked at his wife with a wide eye. “How did yo-”

“Like no one knows. You and her are the talk all over the kingdoms and how I am sat up here alone.” She begins crying from all the frustration she is finally letting out. “I have been a good wife to you. A great mother to our children. How could you? Was I not enough?”

“You are! I just-”

“You just what? Saw her and couldn’t help yourself?”

“I missed you too much! It was a moment of weakness!”

“Weakness? So we’ve finally found what weakens a dragon. You speak so highly of duty and what you’re doing for the crown, but you don’t have a clue what you’re doing. You’re still that scared little boy who got bullied by his brother and nephews over petty th-”

The harsh slap of a cheek could be heard in the room. It echoed through Aemond and y/n’s ears. Y/n didn’t look at him as she turned to leave. She hastily walked to her chambers and asked the maid to collect some wine. Sitting alone, sobbing, she didn’t hear the man walk behind her. A cold blade pressed against her neck, and soon she felt weak and cold, but somehow warm. Her body now slouched in the chair, she turns her head to the right and sees Rhagar. “Mhysa!” “My little dragon”, she calls to him with open arms. “I love you, Mhysa”, Rhagar clung to his mother like he had every night she protected him from the nightmare. 

Aemond had stood still in his mother’s chambers. Just staring at his hand. “Why did I do that?”, he asked himself and looked up at his mother who had wide eyes. He turned quickly and ran to his wife’s chambers. Only, instead of finding his wife sobbing, he found a man with a freshly bloodied knife over her corpse. “Stop!”, he exclaimed, but it was too late. The man heard him and ran with the princess’s guards in tow. Aemond rushed to y/n, “Please, please, please, no. Not you too.” But all signs of life had vanished as he wept for her.

Taglist : @watercolorskyy

<- Previous Chapter | Next Chapter ->

Masterlist

[callsign-magnolia]

Imperial // Ch. 1

MATURE CONTENT (18+)

Synopsis: Tatiana Alexeyevna discovered she was a princess when she was seventeen, a young age for a girl to receive such shocking news. She's done well at learning how to be a royal, and after meeting Bradley she considers that she really could find true love while taking the throne.

Warning: Angst, cursing, smut (eventual)

Word Count: 6.0k

Masterlist

I had to get out of the city, away from the madness of my life. A nice, breezy thirty-minute drive out to North Island brought me a little peace and to a little bar placed on the beach. ‘The Hard Deck’ it was called, interesting. As I walked in, it wasn’t too busy, it was only five-thirty, but I needed this drink. I made my way over to the bar, my heels clicking and drawing attention as I did so, making everyone turn to look at me. I sat on the wooden stool, hanging my purse behind me on the chair before resting my folded hands on the bar. Soon a woman walked over, she glanced at my attire, maroon pencil dress with nude heels, hair curled and make up done to perfection. “Welcome to the Hard Deck.” She said as she flashed me a smile. I returned it, sitting a little straighter in my chair, if that was possible. “That’s a really unique name for a bar.” She laughed lightly. “It’s a navy bar, the hard deck is the how low naval aviators are allowed to fly.” I raised my brows at her. “Clever word play. Tatiana.” I said as I held out my hand to her. “Penny.” She said as she shook my hand.

“So, what can I get you?” I smiled, pulling out my wallet for my ID. “Can I get a glass of white zinfandel?” She chuckled, smirking at me. “We don’t have wine here. I have liquor and beer.” I giggled, my face turning a light shade of red. “My apologies, I should’ve known better. Could I just get a vodka soda? Extra lime?” She smiled and glanced at my ID. “Coming right up.” I watched as she walked away, making my drink before I looked around the place. I took notice of the little planes and mugs hanging from the ceiling, the wooden walls, floors and ceilings giving it a warm feeling. I looked across the bar seeing some people in khaki uniforms playing pool. It was a relaxing atmosphere, something I’ve needed after today.

“Here you go.” Penny said as she slid my drink over to me. “Just the one or do you wanna start a tab?” I tapped my perfectly manicured nails on the bar top, thinking for a moment before smiling at her. “Open a tab, please.” She nodded, taking my card to open my tab. I sipped on my drink; it was refreshing to say the least. The crispness of the vodka with the lime, it slightly burned my throat but made me perk up. I was observing everyone around me, looking back at the group of khaki uniforms, finding a man in a Hawaiian shirt had joined them. He was tall, sandy brown hair with warm brown eyes. His smile was wide as he laughed at something his friend said, the girl smacking his chest as his body shook. It made me smile, seeing friends so carefree with each other. It’s something I haven’t had in a long time. I’m usually stuck at the Chateau and if I’m not, I’m supposed to always have security. But today, Marcus saw my frustrations and allowed me to go for a solo drive in the Maserati, but he never said I couldn’t stop anywhere.

Speak of the devil, my phone rang. I looked at it as I took a sip of my drink, seeing Marcus’s name and face on my phone. I clicked the home button, declining the call as I dumped my phone back into my purse. I looked around again as I finished off my drink, my gaze shifting back to the group I was watching before to see the man in the Hawaiian shirt looking at me. He had a small smile on his face, so I returned it. I looked away as the bar started filling with more people, searching out Penny for a refill but she was busy, so I decided to wait. After a few minutes she skirted by, and I managed to catch her. “Could I get a refill when you have a free moment?” She nodded with a large grin gracing her face. “Sure, give me a sec.” I watched as she took my glass walking away and grabbing a few more as she did.

I glanced back over to the group of khaki uniforms to see that the guy with the Hawaiian shirt had disappeared into the now dense crowd. I frowned, a little sad I couldn’t see him. Would’ve been nice to talk to him, although with the way he was looking at me he probably knows who I am. It would be nice to meet a man who doesn’t know that in just a few years I would be ascending the throne in a foreign country, far away from here. Penny came back gently handing me the drink before she grinned at me. “You like live music?” I nodded, although I never saw a stage or a set up for a band. “Then you’ll like what we have in store.” She said before nodding her head to the end of the bar. I smiled as I saw the guy in the Hawaiian shirt sitting at the piano, his fingers gracing over the keys softly, just enough to draw out a few notes.

I stood from my seat, grabbing my purse and squeezing my way through the crowd, keeping my head down as I made my way over to the piano. I heard a tune that seemed vaguely familiar, and I smiled as his aviator sunglasses slid down over his eyes, a wide grin covering half of his face as he played the piano. "GOODNESS GRACIOUS GREAT BALLS OF FIRE!" Everyone yelled, catching me off guard. I was jostled in the crowd, making me slightly nervous. I’ve never been in a crowd this big without Joe, so it was a little nerve wracking. I listened and watched intently as he played the song and I eventually joined in once I picked up on the words. As he was done everyone cheered, including me as I clapped with my drink still in hand. Soon, everyone spread out and I turned back to the bar, attempting to get Penny’s attention again. But to no avail, the beautiful bartender became even more busy after the song.

I held out my hand, trying to catch her but she blew by me in a whirlwind, and I frowned. “Need another drink?” I turned and found the man in the Hawaiian shirt smiling at me. “Um, yes please. I’ve tried to catch her but she’s just so busy.” I held out my glass to him and he chuckled. “I don’t work here, sweetheart. Just good friends with the bartender.” He said, setting his forearms on the bar top and leaning on them. My face burned at the nickname, never being called that before. “My apologies, Mr…” I dragged out, realizing I had no idea what his name was. “I’m sorry I never got your name.” I said and he chuckled at my hesitation. “Rooster. Hey! Penny!”  I furrowed my brows at the name he gave me. Who in their right mind would name their child after a male chicken? Penny pranced over, almost skipping as she smiled at Rooster. “You have six on the house so far, all from very lovely ladies. Want one now?” He nodded at her question and gently took the glass from my hand, passing it off to Penny. “And get her another one, please? On me.” I held my hands up, trying to stop him.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” He shook his head at me with a smile. “My treat.” He insisted and I stopped. Letting him buy one drink wouldn’t hurt, would it? “Okay.” I muttered, Penny coming back over with our drinks. The crowd around the bar grew rowdy, jostling me around again as I held my drink close. “Do you want to come sit with me? Away from the crowd?” I didn’t spend much time thinking on it, deciding getting out of this crowd was the best and safest option. “Yes, please.” He nodded, his tall frame looking over much of the crowd before turning to me. “Here.” He stepped behind me, his hand resting on my mid back, guiding me to an empty table in the corner by the pool tables. He pulled out my chair, taking my hand and helping me up into it before taking his own seat. “Is it always this crazy in here?” He nodded. “The Hard Deck is a popular bar here on North Island. Mostly Navy, a few civilians.” He said before glancing at me, taking in my appearance, making me a little self-conscious. I felt very out of place in this dress and heels, seeing most people in uniforms, jeans or the occasional sundress.

“You’ve never been here before, have you?” I shook my head. “No, I wanted to find some place new to try, and I guess I found it.” I said as I flashed him a grin. “So how did you find the Hard Deck?” He asked, leaning his arms on the table and leaning towards me slightly. I smiled as I sipped my drink. “I live and work in San Diego, needed out of the city for a while. So, I just drove until I found this place.” He smiled at me, sipping his beer. “I have to ask though; you said your name was Rooster?” I asked, crossing my ankles as I leaned back in my seat. He chuckled at my question, his teeth shining brightly as he did so. “It’s my call sign.” I raised a brow at him in confusion. “I’m a naval aviator, I fly fighter jets for the navy.” Of course, a man like this would also have an interesting job. “My real name is Bradley by the way.” I smiled at him, holding my hand out over the table. “Tatiana.” He smiled, gently shaking my hand as I gripped his. "That's quite a grip you got.” I chuckled at his words. “I shake a lot of hands in my line of work, it’s a habit.”

“Oh, really? What is it you do? I mean, you must have some high-profile job to be dressed like that.” I nodded. “I uh, I work in international affairs and diplomacy.” He seemed surprised by my words, his eyebrows shooting into his hair line. “So do you work for the government or something?” I shrugged, sipping on my drink. “If I told you, I might have to kill you.” His laugh boomed around us at my statement, making a smile grow on my face. “God, pretty and funny.” A blush crept up my neck, setting my face aflame. “So, how long have you been in the navy?” I asked, steering the conversation away from myself. “Ten years.” I looked at him in wonder. “Wait, how old are you?” He sipped his beer, carefully setting it down. “Thirty-four.” Oh wow, this man did not look thirty-four. I assumed he was closer to my age. “What about you?” I pulled my bottom lip into my mouth, practically gnawing on it. “Twenty-four.” I said sheepishly. I watched as his face fell slightly, he was cute and sweet, I would be happy to be friends if anything. It’d be nice to have some normal friends.

“But I’ll be twenty-five this year!” God, I sounded desperate by how quickly I blurted that out. He gave me a small smile, chuckling slightly. “Um, my birthday is December fifth.” I said and his tongue darted out, licking his lips slightly. “Mine is June twenty-seventh.” I smiled, nodding at him. “Are you from San Diego?” I nodded. “I’ve lived here since I was a baby, but I was born in another country.” He seemed intrigued by my answer. “What country?” I stared at my drink, curious to if I should start this conversation. He may recognize me, which isn’t all bad. But I want him to know me as Tatiana first. I looked up at him, seeing his brown eyes watching me, expecting an answer. Surely if he knew who I was he would have said something by now, right? “Krasivayet Gorachu.” His eyebrows shot up, a confused look on his face.

“I’m sorry, that just sounded like a mouthful.” I laughed at his words. “It’s off the coast of Russia. In the Sea of Okhotsk.” He nodded, listening intently. “Our main language is Russian, but seventy-six percent of the people speak English and have a proper education. I hope to go back one day and make that one hundred percent, give the lower class a true opportunity at an education, and not just for them to learn English. I want them to have the opportunity to learn other languages and about the countries those languages come from. I want these people to have the best educations that could be offered to them.” He smiled at me, leaning his cheek onto his palm. “Wow. That’s very compassionate of you, you seem to have a real connection with this country.” I nodded. “My mom lived there her entire life until she moved us to San Diego. She was lucky to have a higher education, so she managed to secure a good job here.” He bit his bottom lip. “Sounds-“ He was cut off by my phone ringing. I gave him a sad smile as I pulled it out, seeing Marcus’s face on the screen again. “Excuse me.” I said as I stood, answering the call. “Hello?” I sighed out, making my way to a semi-quiet corner. “I have given you all the time I can allow. I need you to come home.” I pursed my lips, a little sad at his words. “Okay. Give me five and I’ll head that way.” He hummed and we hung up. Marcus tried to give me privacy, but he’s not the only one assigned to guard me and I don’t want to make his job harder than it has to be.

I walked back over to Bradley, seeing his eyes following my every move. His stare should make me feel weird, but it doesn’t, it makes me feel safe. “I apologize, but I must go.” I said as I picked up my purse and my glass. “Oh, really?” I nodded. “My uh, uncle called. I’m needed back home.” He quickly stood, his own beer in his hand. “Everything okay?” I nodded. “Yes, apparently my laptop is going off with work emails that need my immediate attention.” He sighed and nodded. “Do you mind if I- If I walk you to your car?” I furrowed my brows at him. “It’s just-it’s dark out and sometimes a bar parking lot is not the safest place to be.” I flashed him a smile, nodding. “You may walk me out to my car.” He smiled, following me to the bar. It was less crowded, and I managed to get Penny’s attention right away. “Hi, Penny. I’d like to close out my tab.” She smiled at my, her attention turning to her computer. “So proper! I like it!” She said as she tapped the screen a few times. “You’re all set to go, sweetheart. Rooster, make sure she gets to her car, okay?” He nodded at her holding up an ‘okay’ signal with his fingers.

We walked outside, a crisp breeze in the air that made goosebumps appear on my skin. “Cold?” I nodded, pulling out my keys and remote starting the car. “It’ll be warm by the time I get inside.” I said, trudging through the sandy lot to get in my car. “Woah. You drive this?” I nodded, opening the door and setting my purse inside. “I do, maybe I’ll take you for a ride sometime.” He smiled at me, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Yeah, sounds good.” He said, stepping closer. I watched as he slowly made his way around the door, standing before me till my back was pressed against the frame of the car. I should be nervous, I should push him back, but in reality, I didn’t want to. I wanted him close, to cage me in. “I was wondering, if it’s not too much trouble-“ My phone rang again, making me groan as I grabbed it. “Dammit.” I declined the call, tossing the phone back into my bag. “I really must go, but thank you, Bradley. For the drink and the amazing company.” I said before moving my purse and sitting in the driver’s seat. “You’re welcome. Goodnight, Tatiana.” I smiled at him as he closed my door and I pushed the car into reverse, leaving him standing there in the parking lot.

I was on the freeway when Marcus called again, and I answered. “Yes, Marcus?” The annoyance in my tone was clear, telling him I was not happy with him. “I just wanted your ETA, Princess?” I sighed, looking at where I was. “About ten minutes.” He hummed. “Thank you, Princess. I will see you when you arrive.” I just hummed as I ended the call. I thought back to Bradley as I drove. His wavy hair and those brown eyes that watched me intently. His gaze should have drove me away, but the warmth in his eyes pulled me in. Bringing me ever closer to the man behind the aviator glasses, one I’d hoped to get to know. “Dammit!” I yelled, slamming my hands on the steering wheel. I never got his number, or his last name. All I know is he’s been a naval aviator for ten years and he hangs out at the Hard Deck. I sighed, frustration building as I pulled up to the chateau, the gate swinging open for me to drive through. I drove up the long driveway, pulling up to the front door. I put it in park and grabbed my purse as my door was opened. “Welcome back, Princess.” I smiled at him. “Thank you, Kal.” I said as he helped me out and took my seat to park it in the garage.

The door was opened, Marcus standing on the other side. “How was your drive, Princess?” He asked as I marched past him. “Good.” “Stop.” I immediately halted, pursing my lips. Marcus came over, smelling me. “You smell like alcohol.” I screwed my eyes shut, cursing myself for not spraying some perfume on me.  “I stopped at a bar on North Island.” I said, starting to walk away again. “Do you know how dangerous that could be?” I whipped around to face him. “Of course, I know how dangerous it could be! But you know what, Marcus? I made a friend. The first one since high school who had no idea who I was. I had a nice conversation with a guy who even bought me a drink and walked me to my car to make sure I was safe!” Marcus sighed, folding his hands in front of him. “It is my job to protect you. You could’ve been spotted or hurt!” I pursed my lips, taking a deep breath in through my nose and releasing it through my mouth.

“I understand that, Marcus. But I am a twenty-four-year-old who just wants a taste of a life she grew up expecting. I never got the wild twenty-first birthday in a small bar, meeting people who would become lifelong friends. I don’t get to go out and just hang out with people and after the day I’ve had, these foreign dignitaries thinking they can walk all over me. I needed a break from my life.” “When you are queen, you get. No. Breaks.” He said, emphasizing his words.  “I get that-“ “If I may speak freely,” He paused, looking at me, expecting me to tell him no. “I don’t think you do get it. As princess people look up to you, they expect you to set a good example. As queen, they look to you to take care of them. They look to you, depend on you. There are no breaks. Do you think your grandmother hasn’t wanted a break in all her years as queen? She has, but she has pushed forward. Because she has an entire country depending on her.” I took a deep breath, wiping away the tears that filled my eyes. “Thank you for your criticism. Please tell Maria to prep my shower and turn down my bed, I will meet her when I’m done in the kitchen.” I said, turning on my heel and walking away to the other side of the chateau to the kitchen.

“Your Majesty!” Our head chef, Igor panicked as I stormed in, standing and bowing deeply. “Sit back down Igor, I’m here for the mint chocolate chip.” He nodded, sitting back in his chair. “Yes, your majesty. I picked up a new container for you today.” I turned to him pouting as I pulled out the new container. “Thank you, Igor.” He nodded enthusiastically as I walked back by, but I stopped, backing up to him. “And thank you for lunch today, it was amazing and I’m sorry that… asshole was so rude to you.” He gasped at my language. “Princess!” I but back a laugh at his reaction. “It’s a word, Igor, and you have my word, he will not be returning here.” He smiled at me, giving me a small bow as I walked out. I went up the large staircase and down the hall to my suite, guards opening my doors for me. “Your majesty.” Maria said, bowing as I walked into the large living space.

I put my purse away before removing my shoes and handing them to her. “How was your drive?” She asked and a smile came to my face, thinking of Bradley. “It was lovely, I stopped at a bar on North Island.” She gasped, helping me get my dress off. “A bar?” She gasped, her Russian accent becoming thick. I nodded, grinning at her. “Yes.” I said as I made my way to my bathroom, pulling out my stuff to remove my makeup. “What was it like?” Maria was my age; we were seven months apart. Her mother is a lady’s maid for my grandmother, and she followed in her footsteps and became my lady’s maid at eighteen. We hit it off immediately, becoming quite close, but because of her job she doesn’t get to go out much. I’ve told her I could hire another lady’s maid, give her some time off but she says she enjoys working for me. Maybe because I treat her more like family than an employee.

“It was a navy bar.” She grinned at me, pulling out a towel as I wipe my face free of my makeup and removed my contacts. “With sailors and everything?” I nodded, remembering the sea of khaki uniforms. “In uniform and everything!” She squealed, grabbing my arm. “Did you talk to any of them?” I nodded and her mouth fell open. “And?” I pulled my bottom lip into my mouth. “Well, he was a naval aviator, but he was kind, and he was sweet.” “HE?!” I squealed, bouncing around as I grabbed her hands. “Yes! It was a guy and oh my, Maria I wish I had a picture because he was gorgeous!” I yelled. “Did you get a name?” I nodded. “I only know his first name, and something called a call sign.” She furrowed her brow in confusion. “A call sign?” She asked, opening the shower door for me after I stripped my bra and underwear. “Yes! His call sign is Rooster but his real name is Bradley and he flies fighter jets for the navy!”

“Oh my!” I nodded as I wet my hair. “Yes! Listen, if you go grab two bowls and spoons from the kitchen I will tell you all about it when I get out and we can split that ice cream!” She groaned. “I hate when you make me wait.” I giggled at her words. “But you still love me.” She gave me a small ‘I guess’ in return before leaving the bathroom. I quickly finished my shower, stepping out and grabbing the baggy sweat pants Maria set on the counter for me. Once I pulled on the shirt and tossed my hair up in a towel I walked out. “Here.” Maria said handing me a bowl as I sat on the couch. She laid a blanket over me before joining me with her own bowl. “Thank you.” I said as we both took big bites of the ice cream. “So, did you get his last name?” I shook my head. “No! I wanted to but Marcus just kept calling.” I groaned out, making her pout. “Permission to pull out my phone?” She asked, a devious smirk on her face.  “Absolutely!” I said, leaning forward as she opened Instagram. “I still can’t believe royal protocol prevents you from having social media.” I huffed in agreement as she typed in Bradley. So many accounts popped up and we scrolled, and we scrolled, and we scrolled, then we scrolled some more.

“Try Rooster.” She did and all we got were animal accounts. “Cute, but not as cute as him. I said as I shoved a bite of ice cream in my mouth. “Maybe Facebook.” She muttered, opening the app and typing his name in. Nothing popped up for his name or his call sign. “Maybe he doesn’t even have social media.” I hummed. “Maybe.” She grinned at me, eating her own ice cream. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?” She asked and I pursed my lips. “You think I want to see him again simply because he showed me attention?” She shrugged. “Why don’t you find out?” She asked and I raised a brow at her. “Marcus wouldn’t dare let me out on my own again. Especially since I told him what happened at the bar.” She shook her head. “I can help you.” I raised my brows. “You think he would be there tomorrow night?” I shrugged. “I don’t know.” She hummed, thinking. “I can help get you out for tomorrow. We would make it around like eight or nine so there’s a higher chance of him being there. But I may only be able to score you an hour.” I nodded. “Okay, sounds great.” She smiled at me before standing.

“Well, your majesty. Your bed is turned down and I will leave you be.” I giggled at her words as she took my now empty bowl. “Night, Maria.” She bid me goodnight before closing the door. I stayed on my couch, turning on the tv to reruns of some sitcom I’ve seen a thousand times. I sighed, leaning my head back on the arm. How could I have been so stupid to not get his full name? Or even his number? This man was so kind, and gorgeous even. I laid there, wondering how it may have gone if I did get his name and number, when there was a knock on my door and a guard swung it open, allowing Marcus to walk in. “Your Majesty.” He said, taking a deep bow at the waist. “Why are you here, Marcus?” I asked, my tone a little snippy. “I wanted to apologize. Not only for making you cry, but the way I spoke to you. It was a little harsh. I must remind myself occasionally that you were not born into this. This was thrusted upon you at a young age.” I nodded at him. “I accept your apology. But Marcus,” I said, catching his eye. “Please don’t do it again.” He nodded, taking another bow. “Yes, Princess. Goodnight.”

He walked out, leaving me alone. I sighed before getting up, going into my bathroom to blow dry my hair. Once I was done with that, I closed the doors that separated my living space and bedroom space. I crawled into my fluffy, king-sized bed, staring around at the large room. I wanted to see him again, and he seemed to be a regular at the Hard Deck. I smiled to myself, realizing I had settled on the fact I would be going back tomorrow night with Maria helping me. My mind wandered for awhile as I tossed and turned, always drifting back to the tall aviator but finally sleep took me into its awaiting embrace. But of course, the aviator was there in my dreams, same glistening smile that in my dream, was only for me.

The next morning, I was rudely awakened when my curtains were ripped open, allowing the sun to shine in my face. “Good morning, your majesty.” Maria’s sweet voice echoed, telling me it was time to get up. “Five more minutes.” She giggled. “Your five is a whole three hours. Now, I have your breakfast in your parlor.” I sighed rolling from my stomach to my side to look at her. “How long do I have?” She smiled at me. “Two hours. Once you finish eating, I will help you get ready for the day.” I nodded, sitting up as she walked out. I stretched before swinging my legs over, looking out to the large gardens at the back of the estate. It seemed to be a bright sunny day, a good day.

After I ate and got ready, I made my way to my office, ready for my call with my grandmother. “So, she wants to talk about your meeting with the dignitaries yesterday. I have managed to hold off on giving her any details but… she’s asking.” I nodded as I sat in my leather office chair. “Thank you, Sophie.” I sighed. Sophie was my assistant and she kept me on track. She was amazing at her job and I couldn’t do mine without her. “I will leave you too it.” She said as she gave me a small curtsy before walking out. I logged into my computer and adjusted my tan dress, before crossing my ankles and waiting for her to pick up. It rang a few times before she picked up, her soft features filling my computer screen. “Privet!” She yelled, a large smile filling her face. “Hello to you too, grandma!”

“Oh, darling! I have missed your beautiful face! Tell me, how have your days been?” She asked, her accent so thick that unless you speak the language, you may not be able to understand her. “Wonderful! How have your days been?” She smiled and nodded. “Very well. Now, please, tell me how your lunch with the foreign dignitaries went.” I pursed my lips, before nodding. “Um, well-“ “Princesses do not start their sentences with ‘um’. They are sure of their words, start again.” I nodded, taking a deep breath. “It started out very well, until they started talking to me like I was dumb.” She sighed, her head hanging slightly. “You should’ve heard them, grandma! Talking to me like I didn’t know what was going on in my own country! Then one of them insulted Igor.” She raised a brow in confusion. “Insulted Igor?” I nodded. “He was very unhappy with his soup apparently and asked for the chef. Igor came out, and you know him, always kind and sweet. But as soon as he laid eyes on Igor he shouted at him, calling him an idiot, telling him how awful his food was and how he didn’t deserve the job he had.”

One problem with me, I could have a temper. I have worked hard over the years to correct it, and now, very rarely do I fly off the handle. But that sent me over the edge. “Please tell me you handled it calmly?” She asked and I sighed, hanging my own head this time. “…no.” “What did you do?” I took a deep breath, not wanting to get worked up again. “I stood up and I told him he wouldn’t disrespect my staff and that they all worked hard at their jobs! And they do! I told him that if he didn’t like it, he was more than welcome to leave.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “I may have also told him that I hoped the door hit him on the way out.” I muttered, sipping my water. “TATIANA!” She gasped and I sighed as I set my glass down. “That is not how a princess speaks!” “I was not going to allow him to talk to Igor that way! Especially after how he spoke to me, as if I was stupid and lesser than. He even spoke to one of the other dignitaries, about me as if I wasn’t sitting directly across from him.” She sighed again, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Princesses handle their problems with grace and poise, they do not fly off the handle!” I nodded. I knew she was right, but I was so mad in the moment. “I think… maybe we should pull you back from some from your royal duties.” I quickly shook my head. “No, no! Grandmother, please. It was a one-time incident. It will not happen ever again.” We sat in silence for a moment as she flipped through some papers. “Okay. This is your last chance. These are opportunities for the country to reach out, bring recognition to us. This is how we keep peace with other countries. This is part of diplomacy, and you must uphold that.” I nodded, “Absolutely. I agree with you, one hundred percent.” She nodded. “Now, tell me about everything else that’s going on.” I gave her the run down of the past week, leaving out my solo trip. She’d be furious and not just with me, but with Marcus for allowing it. Once we said our goodbyes, I leaned back in my chair as Sophie came back in.

“I’m basically on probation, aren’t I?” She pursed her lips, nodding. “I already have your list of dos and don’ts.” I sighed and nodded. “Of course.” I said, pushing myself out of my chair. I went through the rest of my day; it was pretty easy going. What took up most of my time was a fitting for a dress I would wear to a state dinner tomorrow night. Once that was over, I had dinner before slinking back up to my room, meeting Maria in there. “I’ve laid out jeans for you, that soft band t-shirt you love and some heeled boots.” I nodded, “Thank you, Maria. You are a lifesaver.” She nodded, unzipping my dress for me. I quickly changed and grabbed my purse, stopping her in the doorway. “How are you going to distract him?” I asked and she smirked. “Don’t worry, I’ve got him.” I nodded, putting my faith in her.

We made our way down the hall of the chateau, giggling like little girls sneaking out for the first time. Once we approached the staircase she went down first. “Marcus! I need your help; her majesty is torn between two cakes for tomorrow evenings dinner. She wanted me to see if you would mind being her tie breaker?” That was perfect. I watched as she turned him away, leading him to the kitchen and I took the opportunity to sneak out the door. “Here are your keys, your majesty.” Kal said, handing me the Maserati keys. “Thank you, Kal.” I quickly got in, moving my purse to the passenger seat. I put the car in drive, taking off down the long driveway to the gate where Kal would buzz me out. My own body was practically vibrating with nerves and excitement. I was excited to find out more about Bradley. Who he was, where he was from. I met the man barely twenty-four hours ago, and I am so fascinated by him, craving to know the thoughts in his head, and the desires in his heart. I wanted to know about those he loved and cared for, and I hoped that maybe he would share them with me one day. Maybe he would  even tell me what he thought of me?

Taglist:

@artemissunn @dhwanishah09

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Charming? Simply because I'm curious if it's being used literally or sarcastically.

Or both ways 👀

Ask me about one of my WIPs

Another George Russell (Gilded Age, not Formula One) x OFC fic. I have an outline that I'm still toying with. It's about a woman that's planted pretty firmly in the spinster category (late 20s, unmarried, the shock, the horror) who's been in London with an aunt but is coming home for Christmas. Her family does business with the Russells

Here's a rather long snippet because you know what I am proud of my dialogue in this one

“Didn’t I tell you about them?” Edward frowned, “The Russells.”

“That is the Russell’s house?” I asked, unable to shield my astonishment, “It’s…It’s…” 

“As vulgar as your dress?” Mother asked dryly. I caught sight of Edward’s warning look as I turned my head to look at her.

“Have you something against Mr. Worth’s work, mother?” I asked innocently.

“That sort of outfit suits the demi-monde, dear, not polite society.”

“The inside of Russell’s house is apparently quite magnificent,” Harriet cut in, trying to deliver the conversation to a kinder topic—and while it was a gallant attempt, it was an awful diversion.

“Mrs. Fane says it’s like some fay French salon,” Mother groused as she set down her wine glass. I arched a brow, watching as the footman steps closer, refilling her glass. 

“She says?” I repeated, “Have you all never been?”

“Why on earth would we lower ourselves to entertaining them socially?”

It took me a long moment. I wasn’t used to this anymore; I’d only heard tell of the snobbish ways that my mother and her set had taken to treating new money.

“...Well, the firm does business with Mr. Russell, does it not?” I asked. “We do,” John confirmed.

“So you’ll take the man’s money, but you won’t associate with the family publicly? What’s the point in that?” I asked, looking around the table. 

“The point, my dear,” Mother hissed out icily, “Is in maintaining our social position.”

“...You’re right, mother. That was a silly question.” “Thank you—”

“I should’ve asked ‘where’s the sense?'” 

--

“What sort of man is he, anyway?” “Russell?” Harrison asked, glancing at me before he turned to watch John and Edward play darts. “Suppose it depends on who you ask.” “I am asking you.”

“...From our dealings at the office, he is a ruthless profiteer.” 

“Am I hearing a hint of admiration?”

Harrison’s lips twitched almost unwittingly as he warily eyed where our father was reading in the corner of the drawing room.

“I would not say I admire him, but…He’s self-made, clever, sharp, loyal…He has a strong character and firm convictions.”

I waited for Harrison to go on, and when he didn't, I glanced at him.

“I’m sensing a ‘but’.”

Harrison sighed, tipping his head in concession. “But…He is, as mother says, one of the new people. That doesn’t matter a wit to me, but it matters to mother, which means that it matters to Harriet.” 

“You know I do like Harriet, Harry, but sometimes I cannot stand her bowing to mother.” 

Harrison gave me a sharp look, his lips pressed into a thin line. “She does not bow to mother,” He insisted stonily, “She does what she must for the sake of a congenial familial relationship—Something that you could take a note or two on.” 

[stay-curious]

(rwylm au)

could i request a smol blurb where nat helps r deal with imposter syndrome after r releases a new single or EP

A/N: Thank you anon for the request! I hope you like this. I got carried away so it's a bit longer than expected :))

series masterlist

650 words

warnings: self-doubt, pure fluff, comfort

Natasha arrives home later than usual, wanting nothing more than to have a nice, relaxing bath, a glass of wine, and, hopefully, cuddles if you are still up. Her manager had scheduled the whole week for interviews, photoshoots, etc. Something about ‘having more online presence’ and ‘feeding their fans’. She loves her job but squeezing a month's worth of workload into a week certainly was not the best idea. Now, her fans won’t have anything to complain about. She’s booked for two films that start filming in less than a month and the interviews are set to be released next week.

She leaves her belongings at the entry and makes her way to the kitchen to pour herself the long-waited glass of wine. As Nat marches towards the cabinet, she spots you sitting on the couch, nose deep in your phone, an emotionless expression on your face. She frowns and gets closer to you.

“Babe, is everything alright? It’s late, you should be in bed,” she asks worried by your unusual behavior. She hurriedly comes closer, standing in front of you.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Nat asks you as she bends down and holds your hands.

“I wanted to know what people thought about the new single, so I went to Twitter and search it,” she answers, her voice barely above a whisper, “I should’ve known better than releasing the song. I don’t know what went through my mind when I thought it would do just as good as the others. I should have stuck to the style. I shouldn’t.. i... I shouldn’t,” you struggle to form a response.

“Oh, honey. Listen to me very carefully. You are a successful and incredibly talented artist. You’ve won an insane number of awards. Hell, even a Grammy for best new artist! I’ve never met someone who works as hard as you and pours all their souls into their projects. I don’t come close; you know how hard I’ve worked my ass off,” she says while looking at you, eyes full of adoration.

“It’s different. This is the first song I’m releasing after the first album. There’s little to no resemblance to it. You know how much people criticize and scrutinize singers, female singers, for being too sappy and only writing about being in love or their relationships." You share what's been on your mind lately.

“Forget about them. You write about what you go through, your life, and what you experience. You fucking gave them an album full of raw emotions that was about your toxic ex and how that relationship messed you up. So what? You are at a new point in your life, a good one, dare I say it. If you want to write a pop song about it, do it. You have an essence, the way you write the lyrics, and how you create the melodies. That is you, not the genre you choose for a song or album.” She pauses to look at you and you nod for her to continue. “I know you feel like you don’t deserve all you’ve accomplished. And I know you’re the only one who can really make you change the way you see yourself. But I will remind you, every single day of my life if I have to,” she reassures you.

“I love you,” you say earnestly, your shoulders relaxing and a small smile appearing on your lips.

“I love you too, babe. Now how does a hot bath, and some cuddles sound, huh?”

“It sounds enticing.”

“That’s my girl. Come on I’ll draw us a bath.” She takes your hand and guides you to the bathroom. Needless to say, that was the best night of sleep you’ve had since you released the song.

Baby I, I know I met you in another life

You're unforgettable

It's like you're my dream, my déjà vu, a ghost

You'll be right there wherever I go, I

[hotdamnhunnam]

🛀🐎🍷 with Raymond

Thanks for your request for my Emoji Fic Fest! 💗

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

Trouble Bath

Pairing: Raymond Smith x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, giving Ray a blowjob while you’re sitting in a bathtub Word Count: ~1.3k Emoji Prompt: 🛀🐎🍷 (key words are in bold)

A hot bath is the answer to all of life’s troubles.

Of this you’re convinced as you soak in the tub with a glass of merlot, candles set on the ledge to suffuse the whole room with a soft golden glow. All your worries dissolve as you bask in the bliss of the bubbles.

That’s when your damn phone rings. You figure it has to be work ‘cause at this hour only your bitch of a boss would be bothering you with ‘incredibly important things.’ Fucking hell. With a loud groan you reach your sud-slathered arm out of the water and dry off your palm on the towel nearby before grabbing your cell.

You don’t bother to check who it is, just assuming it’s business, as you place the phone on the tub ledge and set it to speaker to answer the call. But it isn’t the boss bitch at all.

Well, it is a boss bitch—it just isn’t the boss of your office. Instead it’s the blonde bearded bitch who runs gangster shit all across London and shows everyone who the boss is. The bastard who happens to be just as flawless as he is lawless. You’re a close friend of his, though you’d rather be more to be honest.

Raymond Smith doesn’t know this. You’ve given him hints for fuck’s sake. But he’s too busy buried balls-deep in his own OCD ass to notice. You recently stopped dropping hints when you sensed that a chance at your ass wasn’t something he wanted to take.

At the sound of his voice you just sip at the dark scarlet wine in your glass. Trying not to be bitter that Raymond wants nothing to do with your ass. It’s a good fucking wine, but compared to his gorgeousness nothing seems fine.

Ray just called to ‘check in’ which is absolute crap. Total bullshit. He knows you had made plans for dinner with some random dick from a dating app. Knows this because he was there in the room when you scheduled it.

“I thought you had a date,” Raymond states.

The audacity?! Where is he going with this exactly... “Maybe I’m running late.”

“Or you cancelled on him. Perhaps deep down you know you don’t want him.”

Your jaw drops in shock. Just a little ashamed that you wish he were here to stuff it with his cock. “Y–you know nothing of what I want.”

“I know more than you think,” he says it like a taunt, like he knows he’s a whole fucking kink, and that shit hits you right in the cunt. Rub your eyes with a blink. This is so troubling. Set your wineglass down on the tub ledge with a clink. Craving something quite different to drink.

“I don’t know what you’re getting at—”

“Invite me in and we’ll see about that.”

“Invite…?”

“I’m at your front door and I know where you keep the spare key so just say the damn word and I’m coming inside.”

When Ray Smith requests entry he’s never denied. You tell him that you’re in the bathroom and ten seconds later he’s standing right there, slaying you with the blue of his stare. He says something about how he just kept imagining you out with some other man tonight. Says it just didn’t sit right. Says he’s tried to hold off for the sake of your friendship but now his desire for you has hit heights he can’t fight.

You can’t even remember just what you said next but your words clearly give him a very green light. Next thing you know he’s freeing his cock from his jeans and you die at the sight.

“… Ray, you’re hung like a horse.”

And he knows it of course. All the lust he spent so long suppressing now radiates off him with force. “If you want this it’s all fucking yours.”

***************

You’ve never wanted anything more.

Started salivating like a goddamn madwoman the second he stepped through the door—or before—when he called you the rasp of his voice summoned your inner whore.

Before that even, honestly. Just at the thought of this man you’re on fire beyond believing. Constantly. For so long you and Raymond had been thick as thieves. And you are still, but you need him so bad it kills, and his big dick is thicker than thieves or whatever you figure as he stands beside the bathtub with his meat hanging out, right in front of your mouth, and slowly and deliberately rolls up his sleeves.

Fucking rolls up his sleeves. As if this is a task that he takes very seriously. You don’t doubt that it is really. You’re just as serious too about taking in what you’re about to receive.

You shift clumsily till you’re kneeling in the tub, water sloshing around as your torso lifts up. Tits still partially covered in soapy white bubbles but Ray can see more than enough. At the sight he licks his lips and growls low and rough. It’s a faint sound because he’s too much of a gentleman to be a bona fide beast, but with you here the least gentle facet of him is released, and it’s savage and tough.

Icy gaze pierces straight through the suds. Fierce enough to draw blood. Yet it’s soft and controlled; he’s a man who knows well how to manage the power he holds. Turns his gaze to your open mouth drooling so desperately his dick might drown in the flood. “Such a good little slut.”

Hoooly fuck…

He twines one of his hands in your semi-damp hair, as the other grabs onto his shaft that’s so big it’s not fair, and guides it toward the gaping wide hole that exists just to suck.

Flick your tongue in a fluttering lick first. Swipe over the tip, to lap up the sweet dewdrop that drips, taste the flavor that satisfies your every thirst. Your cunt throbs underwater and already feels like it’s going to burst.

“Mmm, that’s it love,” Ray hums in approval while towering so tall above. “Show me how much you love it. All of it.”

Your sorry attempt at a yes sir is muffled by his massive meat, as you instantly take his cock so deep you’re destined to swallow it. Open your whole throat and hollow it. Swell of desire inside you keeps building in frantic heat. Heart hammering at a spastic beat. All you can do now is follow it.

There are no words for just how good he tastes, as his cock slides across your slick tongue while he grabs a firm hold of your skull to start fucking your filthy whore face. So delicious. Your loving eyes roll back in bliss. Lashes batting in ecstasy as he pumps deeper past your lips and picks up the pace. He knows you live for this. Now that he finally has you he gets off on knowing you’re his.

From the moment Ray called you tonight, as if he had a right, you really should’ve known he spelled trouble. The troubles you seek to escape when you’re bathing in bubbles.

But here with his dominant presence demanding you worship his dick which is so damn divine… trouble’s honestly just fucking fine. You would much rather guzzle his cum than a bottle of wine.

And he knows it. He always knew it. Fought against going down the steep slippery slope of this path, but at last now he chose it, and once he’s done filling your throat up he’ll slip with you into the bath. Wash away all your trouble then take you to bed where he’ll fuck you right through it. Just the way only Ray Smith—the boss bitch of London who finally has you as his good little cockslut to play with—can do it.

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

Emoji Fic Masterlist

Emoji Fic Tag List – below; if you’d like to be added or removed, just let me know!

@happyhunnams @band--psycho @est11 @edonaspanca @starbooty @innerpaperexpertcloud @i-love-scott-mccall @six-camelot @alexa-rae-dreamz @coffeebooksandfandom @thesuicidalflower @flaireandsynch @helloheyhihowdyheya @gemini0410 @waywardodysseys @zozebo @bettergetusetoit @emilykjh @little-diable @rocketqueen @mrspeacem1nusone @miss-smutty @rayslittlekitten @abby-splace @chubbychubbs28 @miraclesoflove @tegggeeee @hunnambabe @missusnora @kesskirata @vixenrebellion @thexhostess @pomegranatearildreams @kandii395 @severewobblerlightdragon @itspdameronthings @niki-xie @cind-in-real-life @saweetspoiled @poge-life @few-proud-emotonal @samanthaisnthome @melodranas @soaharleys @charlie-hunnams-old-lady @simpmasterjr @nataliewalker93 @lovebarefootblonde @marvelousmermaid @tsukuyomi011 @sciapod @midnight-dreams-23

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted 16 - Bloody City [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, blood.

Word Count: 3000

Summary: Threats come closer. 

The room was so silent that you could swear even your heartbeat was audible. You tried to think through the panic running through your veins, but it was nearly impossible.

He wasn’t supposed to find out about that.  

You weren’t a profiler, but you didn’t need to be one to understand how betrayed he felt at the moment. He looked completely frozen, his sharp glare giving you goosebumps.

He had never looked at you like that before, and the anger in his eyes was more than enough to pin you to your spot.

“Spencer,” you managed you say, your voice way too weak, “I can explain.”

Silence.

“I didn’t—“ you stammered, “I didn’t read it. I would never.”

He just kept his gaze on you, raising his brows as if he didn’t believe a word you said and you wetted your lips.

“Where did you find it?”

That managed to draw a reaction from him, at least. He scoffed a dry laugh, shaking his head.

“That’s what you’re asking me right now?” he asked, “It was under the magazines on the coffee table, I thought it was one of mine.”

You cursed under your breath, closing your eyes for a moment. Of course your mother would put it there for you to take a look at it in case you wanted to.

“So?” he said, nodding at the folder lying on the kitchen island, “Do you want to tell me why you have a file on me?”

“It’s not mine.”

The bitter smile on his face was almost amused at your pathetic attempt, and it hit you right at that moment, there was no way you could talk your way out of this. This was what he did for a living, and he could tear your whole list of excuses apart, picking holes in it one by one.

“Try again.”

So people felt exactly like this when he was interrogating them. It was like his whole personality had just changed right in front of your eyes, and you weren’t even sure that you knew this person standing in front of you.

“I mean,” you swallowed thickly, “Okay, it’s technically mine. But I can explain why I have it.”

“You can?”

You pushed your hair behind your ear, your hands restless for some reason.

“The other day,” you started, “After we…. Well, when you were in Ohio, my mom dropped by. She already has a key and well, you’ve met her, she comes and goes as she pleases. I told her not to numerous times, but—“

“That’s not what I asked.”

You nodded, clearing your throat.

“Right, yeah,” you said, wringing your hands, “Um, she has this P.I.”

“You mean your family has a P.I.?” he corrected you, “Philip, you said? It’s not just your mother who uses him, you told me so yourself.”

You cussed at yourself in your head and bit on your lip, “Yeah. Yeah but he—he usually works for my mother. She’s overprotective, especially after my dad she became quite paranoid with the type of people me and Mina date. Anyways, she came here that morning, and she had this file but I didn’t read it,” you shook your head fervently, “I would never.”

He tilted his head, humoring you, “Oh you didn’t read it?”

“No, of course not—“

“Why did you keep it then?”

“I didn’t keep it,” you said, “I had to leave in a hurry so I left my mom here and I swear to you I told her to throw it away. I thought she did, I didn’t see it before just now. I wouldn’t keep it if I knew—“

“Did you know she was going to do it?” he cut you off as if he wasn’t in the mood to listen to your excuses, “Put a P.I. on me?”

You opened your mouth to say no, then the memory of her saying that at the brunch flashed in your mind, making you shut your eyes for a second before looking up at him.

That was enough of an answer for him.

“You knew?” he asked, barely controlling the fury in his voice, “You knew but you didn’t tell me?”

“She mentioned it in passing but I didn’t take her seriously,” you said quickly, “I didn’t think she would actually do it, that’s why I didn’t tell you!”

He let out a humorless laugh and walked to grab his satchel while you stood there, unable to even breathe right as your heart pounded in your ears.

“Where are you going?”

“Out,” he said curtly, “I’ll break your heart if I stay here any longer.”

“Spencer please, we need to talk about it—”

“Talk about it?” he repeated, “Why? So that you can give me more bullshit excuses?”

To that, you honestly had nothing to say.

“I would’ve told you whatever you wanted to know about me,” he said through his teeth, his eyes narrowed, “Because I trust you. That’s the difference between you and me.”

You blinked back the tears, digging your fingernails into your clenched fists.

“Have fun reading that,” he motioned at the file in front of you, then walked out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him. Your hand shot up to wipe at your eyes and tugged at the roots of your hair as you slouched against the kitchen island.

“Fuck.”

                                                         ***

The next three days were an absolute disaster. You couldn’t focus on anything, you checked your phone every minute to see whether he had texted you or called you, but there was nothing. You had no idea what you could do to explain yourself, or at least convince him to hear you out, but you decided to wait until he wasn’t as angry. Maybe then, he would be more willing to listen to you and you would have gathered your thoughts together.

That was the logical thing to do and you knew that, but it didn’t help with the situation at all. You had already missed him way too much and the guilt was basically eating you alive.

You should’ve been more careful. You should’ve checked everywhere, you should’ve at least called your mother to make sure if she had thrown it away but you had done none of that because of multiple distractions. Spencer had a point, you knew it was possible, you even knew your mother had done the same thing with Kenzie and yet you had told him nothing about that.

Until it blew up on your face.

There was absolutely no way he would ever trust you again, and you had no one to blame but yourself.

Your fingers were itching to text him, but you every time the urge hit you, you tried to do anything else but that. You concentrated on work, you accepted a new client, you did anything and everything that could stop yourself from thinking about him, but all of that was in vain.

Mina and Kenzie had invited you for dinner and you had accepted it just so that you could distract yourself and feel less terrible. Around nine, Lily had insisted you to be the one to read her a bedtime story, and that kid could ask for a freaking castle and you would get her that, so of course you had said yes.

“And they lived happily ever after,” you finished the story and pressed a kiss into her hair as she snuggled closer to you. “Time to sleep, bug.”

“I have a question.”

“Hm?” you asked, “What is it?”

“Will we all live happily ever after?”

“Oh yeah,” you nodded, “Certainly.”

“Here?”

You tilted your head, “Here? What does that mean?”

“I heard mommy talking to grandma on the phone about you moving to—“ she scrunched up her nose, trying to find the right word, “Ven…?”

“Venice?” you asked and shook your head, “No sweetheart, I’m not moving anywhere.”

“It’s just that,” she looked up at you, “In the stories, they go away sometimes right? I thought since you found your prince—“

“You don’t need someone to live happily ever after Lily,” you said, “And in this case, I don’t need to move somewhere else to live happily ever after. Besides, things are complicated with my prince nowadays.”

“So you’re not moving away?”

“I’m not.”

She gave you a toothless smile, “Yay!” she said, “I would miss you.”

“I’d miss you too bug,” you kissed her hair, “So much. But now that we both know I’m staying here, you need to go to sleep, we had a deal.”

“Fine, fine…” she heaved a dramatic sight and you turned off the lamp by her bed, getting up from the bed. “Good night!”

“Sweet dreams, bug,” you closed the door behind you and made your way to the living room where Mina and Kenzie were still sitting by the table, drinking wine.

“Thank you so much,” Kenzie said and you waved a hand in the air as you sat down.

“Of course,” you said, grabbing your wine glass, “Mina, she asked me if I was moving to Venice.”

Mina frowned, “What?”

“Yeah, she heard you talk to mom on the phone,” you muttered, “Is that still going on? I thought we put that behind us, I’m not leaving.”

She heaved a sigh, “You know how mom gets, she’s just worried.”

“Have you talked to Spencer yet?” Kenzie asked and you took a huge sip of your wine, shrugging your shoulders.

“He knows where I am.”

“I take that as a no.” Kenzie said and you scoffed a bitter laugh.

“If he wants to break up with me, he can pick the time.”

Mina’s head shot up, “Y/N…”

“Come on,” you forced yourself to say and downed your wine before tilting your glass towards Kenzie, “You guys know how it goes. Experience talking.”

Kenzie filled your glass, “Listen, I can tell you right now that finding that out was a shock, yes. I felt betrayed, also yes. But after a couple of days, the anger subsided. When we broke up, it was— it was just my anger calling the shots.”

Mina nodded slowly, “Yeah, and then we talked and solved it.”

“Exactly!” Kenzie snapped her fingers, “Besides, after the first argument… I went to my apartment and after I calmed down I had to question whether I wanted to lose Mina over that.”

You shook your head, “It’s different.”

“How?”

“You weren’t there,” you lit a cigarette and exhaled the smoke, “You didn’t see the way how he looked at me after that. Something inside him shifted and I don’t know how to change that, or fix that.”

Mina and Kenzie exchanged glances.

“I don’t think he will ever trust me again,” you managed to say, turning the cigarette between your fingers, “That is if he talks to me again. I think he might just call it quits over the phone to be honest. He doesn’t owe me anything after this point, after what happened.”

“Y/N, I saw you two together even before you started dating,” Mina said, “This is not the end. It’s just some stupid obstacle in the way, that’s it.”

You could feel the tears burning your eyes but you blinked them back.

“I’ve never-” you trailed off, “I’ve never felt this way about anyone, you know? And if I lose this, lose him, I don’t know…” your voice cracked but you cleared your throat and took a sip of your wine again, “I have no idea what to do.”

Kenzie nibbled on her lip,

“You won’t have to, just—“ she started but was cut off when your phone started vibrating on the table. You lowered your glances to check the caller I.D flashing on the screen, then gasped, jumping on your feet.

Spencer.

“Excuse me,” you said and snatched the phone off the table to walk to Mina’s study, your heart slamming against your ribcage. You hoped that it was a good sign that he was calling you, instead of just ending your relationship via text and you closed the door behind you, then answered the phone.

“Hi,” your voice sounded way too squeaky even to your own ears and you shut your eyes for a moment, making a face.

“Hey,” he greeted you and you bit down on your lip, pushing your hair behind your ear as you walked in the study.

“How—um, how are you?”

“I’m good,” he said slowly, “How about you?”

“About the same,” you answered, “I was just thinking about you actually. I wanted to call you, but…”

“But you didn’t?” he asked and you shrugged your shoulders,

“I figured you might need some time away from,” you thought for a moment, trying to smile, “Well, away from me, I guess.”

He fell silent for a moment before he cleared his throat,

“Listen,” he said, “I just called to let you know that we— the team and I, I mean, we’re flying to Illinois in fifteen.”

Your head shot up, “Oh? There’s a new case?”

“Might be related to this one, we will see when we get there,” he said, “I just figured you’d…I don’t know, you’d want to know where I was.”

Even when you were quite possibly in the worst terms, he still wanted to make sure you knew about what was happening and that thought alone was enough to make you smile.

“Yeah absolutely,” you said, “That’s very thoughtful of you. Thanks for letting me know.”

“Sure thing.”

There was a pause before he took a deep breath.

“Anyway, yeah. That’s why I called. I’ll see you later—“

“Spencer,” you interrupted him, “Before you hang up, I want to say that I get why you’re upset, I really do. You have every right to be, but I was hoping…” you bit at your fingernail, “Maybe we can talk after you come back? Would that be possible?”

“Yeah,” he said after a beat, “Sure, that sounds good.”

“Yeah?” you let out a relieved breath, “Okay, great. Be careful out there, please?”

You could almost hear his small smile, “You too,” he said and hung up, making you let out a squeal and you sat down on the couch, pressing a hand over your chest.

You didn’t know it back then, but the next time you would see Spencer, it would be under very, very different circumstances.

And it definitely would not look like what you hoped it would.

                                              ***

Even though Mina and Kenzie insisted you to stay over for the night, you told them you had an important appointment the next morning. It wasn’t a lie either, you had been handling Vincent’s wedding’s possible venues since last week and finally you had narrowed it down to three, so you would be visiting those venues with him and his husband.

But that whole morning started very strange.

For starters, you hadn’t even heard your alarm go off, which was unusual, because that had never happened to you before. By the time you woke up, you had a terrible headache as if someone had hit your head with a baseball bat but you hadn’t even drunk that much last night. It felt way too difficult to even open your eyes, and your limbs felt like they were made of jelly as you forced yourself to sit up in the bed.

Where was your phone?

The wind coming from the open window moved the curtain and you frowned, trying to remember when you had opened the window before a shudder ran down your spine, the hairs on the back of your neck rising.

Spencer would’ve had some scientific explanation for it you were sure, but for you, it went deeper than that. It was your instincts, warning you that something was wrong.

Something in here didn’t feel right.

And every single cell in your body made sure you knew that.

Trying to make as little noise as you could, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed, blinking to get rid of the blurriness in your sight and looked around in the room for any potential weapons, then grabbed the nail file on the vanity before you opened the door. You peeked around the hall, but as soon as your gaze fell on the front door, you felt the goosebumps rising on your arms.

The front door wasn’t closed properly, and you were sure that you had closed it last night.

Your heart started pounding in your head but you stepped out of your room, still holding the nail file tightly just in case there was a sudden movement. You took another step, trying to fix your breathing but you happened to inhale deeply for a second, and that’s when you took the scent.

You smelt it before you could even see it, the bile climbing up your throat almost automatically.

Metallic and sweet.

Blood and jasmines.

You slowly lowered your glances to the floor connecting the hall to the living room to follow the small flowers of jasmines soaked in the red river of blood, leading behind the kitchen island. There were sirens going off in your head, screaming at you to run away but you took a deep breath, your whole body shaking as you stepped around the kitchen island, the warm blood soaking your feet before your eyes found the body lying completely still on the floor.

The nail file slipped from your closed fist as you stared at your ex-boyfriend Anthony, his eyes wide open and fixed on the ceiling, his hair and clothes drenched in his own blood.

The shock only lasted for one second.

Then a scream ripped itself from your throat.

Chapter 17

[a-is-for-abel]

“It’s a very odd sensation, standing over your own grave.” prompt from @givethispromptatry

Crows barked, throaty and dry, from their perch high in the gnarled branches of the tree at the head of the cemetery. The letters etched into the granite before him shined and the heavy mist settled over his shoulders, oppressive and thick.

He counted the crows in the tree, a rhyme coming to mind as the black winged birds called into the fog. "One for sorrow, two for mirth, three for a funeral… Four-- Four for..."

A funeral… His brow furrowed. The name on the gravestone drew him back in and he eyed the letters. Bells from the steeple of a church coughed in the distance.

"It's a very odd sensation, standing over your own grave." He turned to see a man leaned against a tall gravestone, a lit cigarette in his fingers. "But you seem to be taking it rather well."

The man flicked a lick of hellish embers off the end and took a long drag. Smoke trailed from his lips and curled over his salt-flat empty eyes. "Say, you haven't died before have you? That'd make this a bit awkward-- See, I don't really do the whole doing someone else's do-over. Those contracts tend to get a little messy, if you know what I mean."

Dressed sharply in a suit jacket and trousers to match, the man didn't stand out quite that oddly against the backdrop of a graveyard. However, with no procession, he was out of place without the rest of the mourners to stand shoulder to shoulder with.

It was even harder not to notice the way he stood a little too tall, a little too pale, and a little too thin...

And the eyes--

He couldn't remember having ever seen eyes like that. Though, he also really couldn't remember how he had gotten here either.

The man frowned, cigarette dangled from his lips. "You're not very talkative are you. That's gonna make this a little hard if you don't at least start asking some questions."

"Who are you?" he asked, voice hoarse.

"Ah, there it is-- Everyone always starts with that one. Never a 'where am I, how'd I get here', it's always the who are you?" The man shrugged. "I got a lot of names, kid. Just make one up, it'll probably be better that way."

Paul. It was the first name that came to mind, risen like the valleys of weathered hands and deep-set wrinkles the name brought with it.

"Paul?" The man hissed, eyes scrunching as he flicked the cigarette onto the ground and ground it out with the toe of his dress shoe. "Wow, you're real bad at this. Look, I'll settle for something like, uh-- How's Paal sound? Good? Great."

Even as Paal dismissed it, he tried to latch onto the name Paul and the hands that came with it. Somehow, he knew those hands had shown him how to hold a chisel and carve with the grain and not against it. That they had smoothed down his hair and lain flat against the crown of his skull as the other drew a new line against the door jamb, and he had childishly smiled at the inch gap that had grown between it and the old one below.

"Well, now that we got names out of the way--" Paal reached into his coat and pulled free a scroll. "Let's get down to business."

The parchment unfurled with a dry cough, ink dripped over the page and rearranged itself into letters that shimmered, ruddy and wet.

"So, for starters, my contracts are pretty straightforward. I don't do all that funny business the others do." Paal pointed to the second line. "The overall payment is going to be your eternal soul, of course. The only exception I'll make here is if you can name something of equal value and I also deem said thing of equal value. Now, don't get all excited. Not a lot of things add up to a human soul. Unless you'll be trading someone's else's soul as your payment. Simple math and all of that."

His eternal soul? He looked at the cross atop the gravestone and wine-dipped stained glass and the pulpit of a church flitted to the forefront along with it.

"We on the same page here? You look a little lost?" Paal asked, tilting his head.

"Sorry, I just--" He furrowed his brow. "Am I dead?"

Paal pointed to the grave. "Is that your body in there?"

"I--" He looked at his hands. "I think so."

"I wouldn't say I'm a genius myself, but I think we can both put two and two together here."

He grit his teeth. "Right…"

"Fantastic-- Now, onto the good stuff." Paal pointed further down the parchment. "So, in exchange for said eternal soul, I grant you a few things. First off, you get to get up on your own two feet and walk out of that grave. A pretty good deal, right?"

"Deals go two ways."

"See, now you're catching on--" Paal pointed at him and then tapped the next line on the scroll. "Alright, so it's pretty damn expensive to bring a soul back to life. Maker's got an idea in mind and tampering with that's always gonna cost you a little extra."

"Do you mean money? I don't exactly..." He held his hands out, the empty state of his pockets hopefully obvious.

Paal laughed. "Money? What the hell am I going to do with money? No, no, no-- I need a favor."

"A favor?" He asked, eyes narrowing.

"Yeah! A favor. something pretty simple, actually. But to get that body back and with all your precious little memories intact, you gotta do something to pay for that. More than just signing off your soul, that is."

"And who exactly am I paying back?"

Paal grimaced. "You're asking questions you really don't want the answers to, kid."

"Fine." He rubbed at his jaw. "What's the favor then?"

"Bounty hunting. Or collecting, I guess?" Paal gestured vaguely. "Whatever-- Basically, a few folks deferred on their contracts and I need to collect on their souls a little early."

"How early is early?" he asked, squinting.

"Well, I'd say I'm a pretty generous dealer. I give you about how much worldly time you should've had-- Had things not gone absolutely shit for you." Paal held up a finger. "So, in this case, I'd be collecting these souls well before they croak from becoming all ripe and old like they normally would've."

"So, I get my life back..." He chewed the inside of his cheek and glanced at the cross on the gravestone. "Is that it?"

"Is that it?'" Paal mocked and then grinned. "Look at you, already driving a hard bargain."

"You wouldn't have come to me if my soul wasn't worth something."

"Did you come to that astonishing conclusion all by yourself?" Paal said flatly.

He glanced over the demon.

Or devil... Or whatever hellish equivalent he was supposed to be. The lack of the classic horns or even a tail made it hard to pin any kind of fiendish charm to him. Besides the eyes and the pallor of someone who's never seen the light of day, he looked rather ordinary...

And his memories, few and far between-- muddled even-- like he was reliving them from underwater-- As unreliable as those memories were, he still remembered sitting upon a pew in a sun-washed room, a pastor at the head of the church, attesting how the devil would always wager in ways that would seem fair and just, but never were.

"What else do I get?"

"Greedy, aren't you? Fine." Paal rolled up the scroll part way and pointed at a line halfway down. "You can't die. At least while you're contracted under me to collect souls. If you call on me and I deem the request reasonable enough I can and will help you. Think of it like, uh-- Praying to a guardian angel. Except I'm absolutely nothing like that and I'll actually show up."

"And collecting on these contracts? What does that entail?"

"Killing them, for starters." Paal said simply. "I can't exactly grab their souls when they're still kicking around like that. And a lot of them have found ways to sort of, eh-- protect themselves from me. But you're just a bag of bones, maybe a little bit juiced up when I'm done with you, but you'll be human enough."

He didn't feel like picking that last aside apart too much. "So, you want me to kill for you?"

"Yes."

"How exactly?"

Paal flicked his hand and the scroll snapped out of sight with a thwick. Reaching into his jacket, he pulled free a revolver. Six-shot, shined, scarred with engravings up and down the muzzle and wrapped around the barrel. Handle a bone-white ivory, pale and unblemished.

Paal held it out to him. "With this."

Dropped into his palms with little fanfare, he cradled it, as if a newborn lamb. He glanced up from the gunmetal shine after a beat. "I can't shoot."

"Oh, you won't have to. You just have to aim." Paal formed his fingers into a mock-gun and pointed it at his forehead before mouthing ‘pow'. "It does all the hard work for you. Unless you're into that kind of thing, then by all means I'll take the training wheels off of it and let you do the trigger pulling."

"No…" he swallowed, careful to keep the muzzle pointed away from himself. "Training wheels is fine."

"Fantastic. Do we have a deal then? All of this--" Paal gestured to the whole of him. "--for the meager, one time price of doing a simple chore for me."

He stared flatly.

"And your eternal soul after you've lived a long and happy life, but that's just semantics," Paal laughed, waving him off.

He tilted the gun in his palms and glanced down at his pockets. It wouldn't exactly fit very well… "Is there a holster?"

"Oh, right--" Paal patted his chest and fished around in his suit jacket before drawing out a belt. "Here. It's a bit used, but at least it's already worn in, right?"

Mottled stains scattered the edges of the leather belt and where intricate markings had been stamped and tooled into the holster itself.

"Thanks…" he said, pinching it between two fingers while trying to find a good way to hold the pistol with his other hand.

"Woah, don't sound too grateful there, champ," Paal said. "You'd think I wasn't about to do you the biggest favor of your life."

He paused in his inspection of the holster and gave Paal the flattest look he could muster.

"Get it?" Paal's grin dropped. "Not a funny guy then… Noted."

Finally, managing to holster the gun he slipped the belt around his waist and fumbled with the buckle before fastening it. "How exactly do we seal the deal?"

"Eager, are we?" Paal held out his hand. "Just shake my hand and that's it. None of that writ in blood nonsense."

He wrinkled his nose.

Paal flexed his fingers and held his hand out further. "Look, if you really need me to draw up a traditional contract and give you a copy, I can do that too, but it's dreadfully boring and I do enough paperwork as it is. I mean, what do you have to lose, honestly? You're already dead. I'm just offering you a second chance… and a little bit of revenge."

"Revenge?"

"No one ends up dead in a ditch with a pack of dogs eating their face without being fucked over somewhere along the road."

"I don't…" He knitted his brow. "It's hard to remember."

"Oh, it'll be like that for a bit. It gets better once we get everything settled. Trust me though, you've got quite the bone to pick with someone back up there. And I for one would love to see how it all pans out."

"This is a form of entertainment for you," he said flatly, eyeing the still outstretched hand.

"What's the harm in mixing business and pleasure?" Paal smirked. "Plus it'll be fun to see what you do."

"Can you not bring back the memories now?"

Paal tutted. "That's quite expensive, and we haven't made a deal yet."

"How do I know I even want to go back then?"

"Does it even matter who you were before if you get a re-do?"

He looked at the name on the gravestone. "Won't they recognize me?"

"Oh, no-- Uh, see, you're not going back into your original body." Paal grimaced. "I can only repair so much and those dogs really did a number on you."

"Great…"

"Don't worry though, I got a good one picked out for you. Close enough to be uncanny even. Just some little differences, barely noticeable."

He grimaced.

"Don't you humans love taking leaps of faith? What's with all the hemming and hawing? What happened to all that stupid recklessness?"

"Not all of us are stupid."

Paal groaned. "I would get stuck with the biggest coward this side of the Mississippi."

'Look, it's lil' yellow-bellied Bern!'

'Just take it from him. He's not gonna do shit-- He'd flinch at a fly if it looked at him wrong.'

'Pa said he's soft. That his own daddy made him like that.'

He blinked, flinching and scrunching up his eyes at the sudden, sharp jab that needled at his skull. "I'm not a coward."

"Then take my hand."

His head pounded, and if he really was dead he wondered why he could still feel that out of everything. If the sweat pricked along the back of his neck was more memory than actual sensation, or if the way his tongue had grown heavy in his jaw was all made up too. He eyed Paal's hand and the discolored fingernails, the sheet white skin, the odd scarring along the knuckles and on the palms.

'Leave and don't you ever come back here. And if I ever see you again, you'll be begging the devil to take your soul from me first.'

He grit his teeth, fingers curling into fists.

The voice bit across his cheek like knuckles, like blood on his tongue and smattered across his hands. It curled like snake oil and melted wax, like the dust settled over the rafters of an ever empty church and like floorboards stained with drying flecks of rust.

He reached for Paal's hand and Paal grabbed his wrist instead, wrapped his fingers around him and squeezed, hard enough he twisted with the motion. Paal didn't budge, no matter how he pried at him, and the hand burned-- Burned the way laying your palm across a sheet of ice stung and wormed its way deeper and deeper the longer you left it there.

He stumbled as Paal released him, clutching at his wrist and hissing. "What the hell?"

"Part of the contract. It'll fade in a second."

The burning stopped and when he let go of his wrist, a coiling band of white took its place. Sat snugly, flat and lined with black, was an ivory snake wrapped three times about his wrist. The head of the serpent rested along the heel of his thumb, eyes a nearly translucent blue. It faded, still standing out against his skin, more like an impossibly pale tattoo and less like the actual snake it was a moment ago. His arm ached dully with it, like he had come in from a long frigid day, and his fingers cramped as the feeling returned to the very tips of him.

"Oh, right-- You'll be needing bullets." Paal grabbed his hand and dropped a freezing piece of metal into it.

More followed as Paal fished around in his suit jacket for them. At the fourth one Paal paused. "What was that little rhyme you were doing before I arrived? I rather enjoy that one. The ending is always my favorite."

He watched where the bullets settled in his palm. The casings a blood-red ebony and the bullet itself the shade of bone.

"And four for birth…" Paal dropped another bullet. "Five for heaven..." Another. "And six for hell," Paal said with a smirk, manually curling his hand around the bullets and patting it. "Now keep track of those, they're not exactly easy to make."

He didn't tell Paal that he didn't finish the poem, that there was still one more line that needed to be said to complete it. Instead, he pocketed the bullets.

"Walk with me a sec--" Paal grabbed his shoulder and nudged him forward.

They meandered along the lines of graves, passing headstones that varied in shape and size, some cared for, with flowers and candles and even worn sepia photos left at their feet. Others were less fortunate. Grown over, dulled, and abandoned.

They stopped before one with a less modest headstone. A large stone cross jutted up from the top and an angel carved above the name of the soul that was laid to rest below their feet.

"You know, I really do think this is the start of a great partnership..."

He raised a brow.

"Marcus J. Bern--" He flinched at the name, not expecting it to fall from Paal's mouth so casually. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you."

He hesitated, shoulders drawing up, hand coming to rest on the gun at his hip. "Uh, you too…?"

Paal smiled, like he found that amusing. And he hadn't noticed how sharp his teeth looked until he was staring the oversized canines dead in the face.

"Now--" Paal said, placing his hands on his shoulders, dusting them off before squeezing lightly. "This might hurt a bit."

"What--"

Paal shoved him.

He fell and fell and the earth swallowed him whole.

Dirt and silt and death surrounded him. Impossibly endless and vast, the grave didn't catch him as it should have. And the chill that bit at his limbs gnawed feverishly, right down to the core of him until he felt a yell clog up with the hallowed ground packed against his tongue. Further and further he descended, gut flipping and twisting with him, until he thought this would be his new forever. That Paal had lied to him, and he would simply be doomed to free fall for the rest of eternity, until all returned to dust as it had once emerged and longer still.

Light broke up the darkness overhead and he reached for it, arm outstretched. The white snake coiled around his wrist writhed and burned at the first touch of it and dripping with pale ichor, his veins stood out a ghastly silver against him. A venom coursed through him as it wound further and further down, closer and closer to where his heart had thrummed to life and kicked against his ribs in a fevered fit. He clutched at his chest as the ground-- as something-- hurtled towards him.

Breath slammed into him with a rattling gasp and his eyes shot open.

Blinded, he blinked and squinted against the grace of a new day, trembling and shaking where he had woken upon the dirt. The cross of the gravestone cast a merciful shadow over him and he could see the tangled fingers of the tree beyond it.

Raucous caws chorused above him. A murder of crows dotted the grey sky overhead, having flighted from their perches high in the dead limbed oak.

One, two, three, four, five, six--

"And seven for the devil, his own self..." he muttered, hand falling to his hip and the gun now holstered there.

[supercorpkid]

Game Night.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Alex Danvers x Niece!Reader, Kelly Olsen x Niece!Reader.

Word count: 1865.

Two weeks ago, your moms weren’t even talking to each other, now they can’t go five minutes without touching and kissing. You want to complain about it, but then you remember how bad it was those days without Lena in your house, so you just shut up and let them enjoy themselves.

“So, I was thinking…” Kara goes into the living room, popcorn in hand, settling in one couch with your mom. You’re on the opposite side, reaching out for the food. “We haven’t had a game night in a long time.”

“That’s true.” Lena agrees, taking the bowl from Kara’s hand and passing it to you.

“We should have one. You know, we can invite the Olsens, and you can invite your girlfriend.” Kara looks at you raising the eyebrows. You choke on one popcorn, and start coughing, turning red. “Kid are you alright?” Kara rushes to your side and you swallow hard.

“Rao, no.” You reach for your soda. They wait for you to recover yourself. “There’s no way I’m inviting Maya to a game night.”

“Why not?” Kara asks, a little pout coming up on her lips.

“Because you can’t play for fun.” You say and Lena gives Kara a little side smirk. “Don’t laugh, Mrs. Luthor. You’re even worse!”

“HA!” Kara says feeling victorious, but she soon stops and frowns. “Come on! Why can’t we have a nice time with her?”

You just raise one eyebrow.

“We’ll behave.” She promises. “Right, love? We can behave, right?”

You scoff.

“Even if you could, which we all know you can’t, there's no way of knowing the kind of embarrassment aunt Alex would put me through.” You say, making Kara roll her eyes in response.

“Look who’s a teenager now, feeling oh so embarrassed of her family.” She complains and you hold a laugh at her reaction. You look at Lena with pleading eyes, asking her to just drop this ridiculous idea, forgetting completely that Lena is now Maya’s number one fan.

“I think it’s an excellent idea!” Lena agrees with her head. “So, it’s settled.” What? No, it’s not. “We’ll have the Olsens and Maya for game’s night on Thursday.”

“Great.” You fake a smile and think of ways to get out from this.

But Thursday comes and you haven’t figured out yet. So, sooner than later, Maya is knocking on your door and you’re looking around to everyone’s face and their reaction. Rao, you hope they’ll behave.

“Hey babe!” Maya says when you open the door. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“Yeah, don’t thank me yet.” You smile and she gives you a kiss on the cheek, well aware of everyone’s eyes on both of you. “I’m sorry in advance.”

“Maya! Come in!” Kara smiles, throwing her arms up, looking way too excited to see someone she met once. It’s the beginning of the night and your cheeks are already burning red. “We’re about to divide the teams.”

“Oh, great.” Maya chimes, walking in, and you stand still. Should you pretend you’re not feeling well, and tell Maya to leave? “Hey! I got you, Mrs. Danvers!”

Well, shit.

“YES! PAN PALS!” Kara yells, high-fiving your girlfriend, and you drop your head low. This is going to be a really long night, won’t it?

“Come on, kiddo. It’s me and you.” Alex says and you smile a little. At least you have a chance to win, if everything else is going to be a bust.

“Well, I guess that leaves you with me, Jamie.” You hear Lena’s voice coming from the living room. “Come on, we’re all settled.”

Maya comes back to where you are, and holds your hand, pulling you towards the living room like she is trying to tell you that everything is ok, and you don’t have to be embarrassed. Not yet, anyways.

“Ok, should we start with Pictionary?” Kara asks, putting a few games on top of the table. You look at Lena and Jamie on the side of the living room, clearly coming up with codes for the game, and you turn to aunt Alex, sitting on the couch next to you.

“Where’s auntie?” You ask Alex, talking about Kelly.

“Oh, she’ll join later. She had one patient coming in late.” Alex looks at Maya in front of her, grabs her beer, and does her intimidation pose. You widen your eyes. “So, Maya-”

“Aunt! We should talk about our codes!” You scream, before she starts. And you hear Kara agreeing, pulling Maya to the side so they can talk. You look at Alex. “Please, don’t embarrass me. You know Kara is already going to do that way too much!”

“Then what else will I do? I thought everyone was supposed to embarrass you today.” She jokes and you roll your eyes. “Ok, fine. I’ll behave. So, what are our codes?”

The game starts with Lena and Jamie not being able to draw nor guess a skateboard. They absolutely suck. But weirdly Kara and Maya make a good duo, and they make you and Alex work very hard to try to win. In the end, it’s very close, but they win and Kara is just over the moon.

“The Pan Pals do it again!” Kara cheers excitedly.

“They do it for the first time, is what you mean.” Alex cuts her off, and you give Maya a smile.

“I just can’t believe I’ve beaten the two Luthors.” Maya says with a chuckle.

“Don’t get used to it.” Lena pretends to be annoyed, but then smiles. “Congratulation, pan pals.” She jokes.

Kelly arrives soon after, and you all have to think of a game with no teams, so she can join. You end up settling for Resistance.

“I don’t like Resistance.” Kara crosses her arms. She always loses this one.

“Yeah, ‘cause you can’t lie, momma.”

“I can lie!” Kara says and everyone, except Lena, gives her a little smile. “I can too! I said you were the cutest baby I’ve seen, but you looked like a potato with eyes!”

“Oh, yeah. You did.” Alex agrees next to you and you frown.

“You look like a potato now!” It’s your defense, but it doesn’t matter. Everyone is already laughing at you. Even Lena, which is hurtful. “Ok, whatever.”

“Oh, my baby.” Kara comes to hug you and you roll your eyes. “Sorry, you looked adorable.”

“You are aware I look EXACTLY like you, right?” You ask and she thinks about it for a second. “Yeah, well, you think about that next time.”

Despite Kara’s protest, the game is still fun. It doesn’t matter that Kelly wins, because she can tell when everyone is lying. It's still fun hanging out with all of them, and it’s nice to see Maya getting along well with everyone. Your heart feels like exploding in your chest from all the love you’re feeling.

You all play a bunch of quick games after that. And before you realize, you let your guard down. You should’ve known better than doing that. Your moms cannot behave.

“Lena!” Kara looks at Lena’s hand, and her UNO cards. “Please, don’t.”

“I’m sorry, honey.” Lena drops her voice low, sounding like a true movie villain.

“Please, Lena.” Kara begs and you roll your eyes. Maya looks amused with the interaction, and that makes you smile a little, that is until Kara finishes her sentence. “Lena, I swear no sex for a week, if you do this.”

“OH MY GOD!” You yell, turning red, while everyone else laughs hard. You reach for Lena’s hand and put her +4 card down. “That’s it! Draw four. Stop talking. Good God.”

Maya is also turning red next to you, but from laughter. Jamie looks equally amused, and the only other person who is rolling her eyes is Alex. Kara huffs in her seat, but draws four cards, and stops talking for a little while. Thanks to Rao, Jamie has the winning card and the game ends quickly.

“Well, this has been fun.” You lie standing up, looking at Jamie that stands up right after. “But the young ones are going outside to play video game.”

Maya stands up, looking confused. Kara stands up too.

“You’re NOT young, momma.” You stop her, making Lena giggle into her wine glass, and Alex wheeze out a laughter.

“I was going to get more wine.” Kara rolls her eyes. “But that was offensive.”

You leave a pouting Kara behind, and make your way to the backyard, followed closely by Jamie and Maya. The three of you end up not playing anything, just talking and laughing about the night.

“Sorry about my moms, they’re-”

“So fun!” Maya finishes your sentence, with a smile. “Seriously, they’re so cool! I wish my parents were this chill.” She pokes Jamie. “Your moms are pretty awesome too. I hope Kelly didn’t over analyze me.”

“Oh, she definitely did.” Jamie says, making you agree with your head. “But I’m sure she liked you.”

“They all did.” You know that for sure.

“Yeah, we all did.” Alex says, poking her head through the door with a smile. “Work emergency, so we've gotta go.” She points inside.

“Oh!” You and Jamie stand up immediately knowing what that means.

“Maya, Kelly can give you a ride back home, if you’d like.” Alex adds, and Maya stands up, agreeing with her head.

“Yeah! Sure, thanks!” She says, and the three of you make your way to the living room.

Everyone goes around saying goodbyes. Alex already rushed out the door, and Kelly is picking up her stuff to leave.

“Oh, where’s your momma? I wanna say goodbye to her.” Maya says and your eyes widen looking at Lena, well-aware Kara flew out of the house even before Alex went outside to call you guys.

“She-She is not feeling so well.” Lena answers. “She’s upstairs. But don’t worry, I’ll tell her you said goodbye. And I’m sure you two will be seeing each other again soon, because you’re more than welcomed here, dear.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Luthor.” Maya waves Lena goodbye, and you breathe out in relief.

“I’ll walk you out!” You say, grabbing Maya’s hand and guiding her to Kelly’s momvan parked on the driveway. “I’ll see you tomorrow at school.”

“Great.” She gives you a quick kiss, before Kelly shows up. “I had a great time. Your family is amazing, I get now why you’re so awesome.”

Jamie coughs behind you two.

“And Jamie. Yeah.” Maya adds with a smile. “I get why both of you are so great!”

“Nice save, babe.” You kiss her again, and smile. “I’m glad you came.”

“Me too.” Maya kisses one more time and gets in Kelly’s momvan. You watch them leaving then make your way inside the house.

“See.” Lena says as soon as you walk in. “We can behave.” You raise one eyebrow at her. “I mean, I can behave.”

“Yeah, you can.” You agree and Lena walks to you, giving you a kiss on the head.

“Are you happy?” She asks looking at your face, and your smile widens in response. “Good! That’s all I want for you, babygirl.”

And you are happy. Probably the happiest you’ve ever been. Finally.

[no-pucks-given]

ADAM BOQVIST | SPILLED LOVE

Warnings: Oral (female receiving), protected sex.

Word Count: 2.7K

 You’ve been friends with Adam for almost 6 years now, and every free Friday night is spent the same. The two of you bundled up underneath some blankets on the couch, countless glasses of wine, and some random movie playing on the screen. Every single Friday night is spent like this, but you can’t help hoping that this one will be different.

You can’t remember the exact point when your feelings for Adam changed, your feelings just simply changed over time. There’s nothing you’d rather want than telling Adam how you feel, but the fear of losing him holds you back. His friendship is the one thing that keeps you going, his smile, his humour, everything. You can’t even think about the possibility of losing that, it’s way too valuable to gamble with. So once more, you push your feelings aside, having Adam as just your friend is better than not having Adam at all.

Today is another regular Friday night, Adam laying on your couch, a blanket covering his body. His favourite movie playing on the screen, a bowl of popcorn sitting between the two of you. Mindlessly you grab your glass, only to find it empty. You groan, you’re so damn comfortable right now. You nudge Adam with your foot across the couch. He flinches, grabbing your foot with his hand. “What the heck? What do you want now?” he whines.

You try to give him your sweetest look, but Adam looks deeply unimpressed. “Can you get me something to drink? I’m sooo comfortable here,” you ask him softly. 

He chuckles, before shaking his head at you. “Fuck no, I’m comfortable. Go grab your own drink, y/n.” 

You grab the bottle of wine, pouring yourself another glass. You sigh to yourself again, you should’ve checked if he needed anything as well. “Adam! Do you need anything?” you yell out, keeping your fingers crossed that he heard you yelling his name. You don’t hear any noises coming from the living room, so you grab your glass of wine and walk out of the kitchen.

You sigh loudly, before climbing off the couch. “Ugh, you suck, Boqvist,” you tell him while passing by.

“Oh, fuck off,” Adam laughs, flipping you the bird.

The moment you round the corner you collide with a solid chest, spilling the contents of your glass all over Adam’s white shirt. “Shit, Adam. I’m so sorry,” you say, looking between your empty glass and Adam’s wet shirt. 

“Fuck, y/n. That’s so cold,” he whines, touching the wet spot.

“Stop saying sorry, y/n. It isn’t your fault,” Adam says softly. You smile, turning around to grab something to clean his shirt with. “I’ll just throw it in your washing machine, it’s easier. You probably still have some stolen hoodie here anyway,” Adam says cheekily. 

You grab his arm, pulling him inside the kitchen. “I’m sorry, let me get you cleaned up, okay?” you say, putting your glass back down on the counter.

You start laughing, because you do have some of his hoodies in your closet. Your laughter dies in your throat when you turn around, and come face to face with a shirtless Adam. It’s hard to keep your eyes off him. You knew he would be fit, considering he is a NHL player, but you’re still absolutely stunned. It’s his soft smile, the way he leans relaxed against the counter that brings you to the decision to just simply kiss him. It might not be the best moment, but who knows whenever an opportunity like this arises?

You close the small distance between Adam and you, grabbing the back of his neck, and softly pressing your lips on his. It takes Adam a few seconds to respond, those few seconds feeling like minutes to you. You start to pull away, your mind swirling with all different kinds of emotions, but Adam’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him, pressing his lips harder against yours.

There’s no fireworks, no sizzling feeling, but it does feel like coming home, like this is how it’s supposed to be. Adam’s hand cups your jaw, his tongue gliding over your bottom lip, coaxing you to open up for him. His tongue glides against yours, discovering a whole new part of you.

Desperate for some air, you break the kiss, slowly moving your head away from Adam. He brushes his thumb over your cheek, smiling softly at you. “Maybe you should’ve spilled your wine on me sooner, y/n.” 

You laugh, slightly embarrassed about what happened in the last 10 minutes. “I don’t know about that, I had no idea..” you trail off. 

“That I’m desperately in love with my best friend?” Adam says dryly, trying to keep the grin off his face. He sees the look of confusion, disbelief on your face. He turns the two of you around, backing you up against the counter. This time his lips land on yours, hands gripping your waist, and lifting you on top of the counter. You gasp at the contact between the cold counter and your hot skin, allowing Adam to deepen the kiss.

He steps between your open legs, hands sliding over the exposed skin of your thighs. You hold Adam close to you by the back of his neck, your other hand exploring his chest, his shoulders, anything you can get your hands on. “You have no idea how many times I wanted to do that, Adam,” you say, after breaking the kiss. 

“So have I, you just beat me to it,” Adam chuckles, his hands sliding up your legs, and over your waist, stopping just below your breasts.

“Tell me to stop, y/n,” Adam says, eyes locked on yours, fingers itching to touch every single inch of your body, to discover every spot that makes you moan, laugh, smile, cry out, everything. 

“Please, don’t stop,” you say, hooking your legs around his waist, pulling his hips flush against you. You grab one of his hands, placing it on your breast. “Touch me, Adam,” you tell him reassuringly. Adam squeezes softly, thumb brushing over your taut bud, drawing a moan out of your mouth. 

“Always so bossy, huh?” Adam breathes against your neck, sucking softly on your skin. “I’ll show you who’s bossy, y/n.”

His fingers grip the hem of your t-shirt, slowly pulling it up and off your body. Fingertips brushing over your newly exposed skin, while his mouth crashes down on yours once more. Tongues dancing together, exploring new territory, hands touching every inch of skin they can reach.

Adam finds your eyes once more, while his fingers toy with the clasp of your bra. “You sure about this, y/n?” he asks, searching for any doubt you might have.

“I am, are you okay with this?” you ask, determined to make sure he’s okay with this as well. 

Adam chuckles low, lips brushing against your ear. “I’m more than okay with this,” he whispers, unhooking your bra, and throwing it to the side.

His hands find your breasts instantly, gently squeezing the soft flesh. His thumbs brush over your nipples, softly rolling the buds between his fingers. “Oh, that feels so good,” you moan out. His lips trail a path down towards your breast, nipping and sucking skin on the way.

Adam pushes you down on the counter, the cold top soothing your burning skin. His lips close around one of your nipples, sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth. His hands wander further down your body, slowly tugging your shorts and underwear down your legs. While his tongue swirls around your nipple, his hand slips between your legs, his fingers sliding through your dripping slit.

“Already so wet for me, aren’t you?” Adam breathes out against your breast. 

“Please, Adam,” you beg, squirming underneath his touch. He chuckles low, pushing two fingers inside of you. You moan out at the sensation, clenching around his fingers. He groans against your skin, kissing down your body, until he reaches his final destination.

He softly blows against your core, smirking to himself when your hips almost buck off the counter. One of his hands presses down on your stomach, restricting your movements. “Be a good girl for me, and lay still,” Adam says, his thumb pressing down on your clit, fingers curved just the right way inside of you.

You try your hardest to stay still, but Adam is making it extremely difficult for you. His lips closing around your clit, softly sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves, his fingers hitting you in just the right spot. You’re a moaning mess underneath Adam’s touch, your fingers tightly wrapped around the strands of his hair, pulling his face closer against where you need him the most.

“Come for me, come on, baby,” Adam simply says, before his mouth is on your core again. His sweet, yet commanding words, his mouth, his fingers, everything together pushes you over the edge, spiralling into wonderful bliss. Eyes rolling to the back of your skull, fingers tightening their grip on Adam’s hair, his name falling off your lips in a never ending stream of moans and mumbles.

A sight Adam always hoped to see, but never dared to dream of. Naked before him, underneath him, completely lost in the pleasure he gave you, completely and utterly at peace. It’s a sight he slowly, but steadily finally can dream of. A dream come true, that’s for sure.

Adam gently slides his fingers out of you, keeping his eyes on your face. He brings his fingers up to his mouth, sucking one of his fingers clean. The smirk that forms on his face tells you he isn’t done yet. “You,” he starts, bringing his other finger up to your mouth, “taste so good,” he finishes, pushing his finger past your lips. Your lips close around his finger, sucking it clean.

You release Adam’s finger with a pop, struggling to get yourself upright again. Adam chuckles at you, wrapping one arm around your back, while his other hand grabs the back of your thigh, lifting you off the counter. Your lips brush past his ear, his fingers tightening on your thigh. “I can’t wait to taste you, Adam,” you whisper. You smirk at his sharp intake of breath, the falter in his step. 

“You will. But right now all I want is to bury myself inside of you, baby,” he counters, making you gasp.

Adam drops you on top of the mattress, a squeal leaving your lips. You look up at the gorgeous Swede before you, hands reaching out to help him out of his sweats. Adam simply chuckles at you, hooking his fingers into the waistband, sliding everything down in one swift move. His erection springs free from its confinements, smacking against his stomach. Your mouth almost starts to water at the sight before you, you desperately want to touch him, to taste him, to feel him.

Adam crawls back between your legs, claiming your mouth with his once again. His hand on your cheek, tongues swirling and twisting around the other, still getting used to the unfamiliar feeling. “Condom?” Adam breathes out against your lips. You nod your head, leaning towards your bedside table, rummaging through your drawer for a condom. You rip the package open between your teeth, gently rolling down the condom over his erection, giving him a few pumps with your hand.

His hands are everywhere when he settles himself between your legs, his cock sliding through your folds, coating himself in your wetness. Adam puts your leg around his waist, giving him some more room to work with. Gently he pushes inside of you, inch by inch, making sure he doesn’t hurt you in any way. He feels you tense up beneath him, even though your face looks completely okay. Adam brushes his hand over your upper thigh, softly pecking your lips. “Relax, baby. I got you,” he says, lips brushing over yours.

His sweet words make you forget all about your tension, instantly relaxing your muscles. “Good girl,” Adam whispers against your ear the moment he’s fully seated inside of you. You move your hips, letting Adam know he can move. He slowly starts moving inside of you, letting the both of you get used to the unfamiliar feeling of being this close, this connected to each other. One of your hands tangled in the strands of Adam’s hair, one hand on his back, keeping him as close as possible.

The two of you move like you’ve been doing this for a long time, completely relaxed with each other, completely at peace, bodies moving together as one, it’s a mind-altering experience.

Adam picks up his pace, his thrust short, yet deep inside of you. His thrusts hit you in all the right places, driving you closer, and closer to your release. It’s a spur of the moment decision, but it feels right, so right. “Can we switch?” you moan out against his bicep. 

Adam chuckles, his pace slowing down to almost non existing. “We can do whatever you want, y/n,” he says, rolling the two of you over in one swift move. You laugh out loud at his move, bracing yourself on his chest. “Ride me, baby,” Adam says, hands gripping your hips. You lift your hips, gently sinking back down onto his cock, testing the waters. Adam smiles at you, his hands on your hips helping you to set the pace.

Every rock of your hips, every thrust that Adam gives to match your rhythm brings you closer to your orgasm. The groans and soft moans that leave Adam’s mouth might be your new favourite sound, his face revealing all his emotions, his feelings.

You’re so close, so close to your release, you can almost taste it. Adam’s thumb presses down on your clit, rubbing fast circles on the sensitive bud. “Almost there, almost there,” you moan out, completely lost in everything Adam gives you. The words are barely out of your mouth before you shatter around him, yelling his name so loud the neighbours probably know you’re finally more than friends.

Adam fucks you right through your high, the way you’re clamping down on him makes sure he absolutely won’t last a lot longer. Your eyes are on his when he pushes you down onto his cock, burying himself deep inside of you. The way his face twists into pure relief, bliss, ecstasy, your name leaving his lips, the groans when he empties himself inside the condom. It’s only making this experience better, unforgettable.

A chuckle leaves Adam’s throat when he comes down from his own high, brushing his hand through his hair. “What’s so funny, huh?” you smile at him. 

“I never thought this would happen, I hoped it would though,” he replies, gently lifting you off him. You roll back onto your back, staring at the ceiling, thinking about his words for a second, while Adam ties the condom, throwing it in the trashcan besides your bed.

He looks over at you, shaking his head at your thoughtful face. “Come here,” Adam whispers, pulling you back on top of him. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he says softly, pecking your lips. 

You smile at him, tracing his cheekbones with your fingers. “I don’t know, it’s still pretty unbelievable that this actually happened,” you muse. “What do we do now, Adam?” Your eyebrows furrow at your own question, even though you hate that question, it needs to be asked.

Adam rolls the two of you over again, wiggling himself between your legs, cupping your face between his hands. “What do we do now?” he asks, mimicking your earlier question. You nod your head at him, not trusting your voice right now. “Now, I would like to go to sleep with my girlfriend, how about that?” Adam says, a smirk appearing on his face. 

You can’t contain the smile on your face, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Your girlfriend would like that very much, boyfriend,” you whisper against his lips. His grin tells you everything you need to know, before he claims your lips with his again, and again, and again.

[amazingmaeve]

The Moment I Knew ↠ Draco Malfoy

━ “I’m done. I’m done with you and everything.”

summary ━ draco malfoy had promised his long time girlfriend he would show up to her birthday party. Y/N knew she shouldn’t have believed him...

warnings ━ angst

a/n ━ made me cry writing this.

Word count ━ 1.7k

You should've been there

Should've burst through the door

With that "Baby, I'm right here" smile

And it would've felt like

A million little shining stars had just aligned

And I would've been so happy

The room where Y/N stood in her birthday dress her mother got her. It was supposed to be a joyous occasion, after all she was now 20. But all Y/N could think about was how Draco wasn’t there.

Y/N imagined him coming through the door with that smile that made her heart flutter. And just him being there would’ve of made Y/N feel on top of the world.

Like he put her first. Y/N would’ve been so happy.

But in reality Y/N stood there with a sad look on her face crossing her arms across her chest. She should be happy in those moment.

Y/N really wanted Draco to show up it was her dream to finally be a priority in his life.

Christmas lights glisten

I've got my eye on the door

Just waiting for you to walk in

But the time is ticking

People ask me how I've been

As I comb back through my memory

How you said you'd be here

You said you'd be here

Y/N takes a seat with a sigh as she keeps a close eye on the door just waiting for him to show up. Hoping to show up.

The lights glisten around her should’ve made Y/N happy since they were her favorite color but nothing could cheer her up. Draco could only do that now if he shows up.

As people talk to Y/N she keeps her eyes on the door just waiting for him to show up. But something in the pit of her stomach told her that wasn’t gonna happen.

The time was getting later and later and Y/N is wondering if he even remembered if it was her birthday. As tears start to brim her eyes someone comes up to distract her.

“So Y/N how have you and Draco been,” Her aunt asks with a smile on her face.

The mention of Draco brings memories flooding back to Y/N. When he promised that he would be at the party a few days ago.

“Okay Draco are you sure you’ll remember,” Y/N asks as she rests her head on his chest drawing circles on his abs.

“Love don’t worry about I’ll be there when have I ever failed you,” Draco chuckles and kisses the top of Y/N’s head.

Y/N frowns almost every date we’ve been on she thinks to herself as Dracos arms envelope around and eventually falls asleep.

Y/N however stays awake doubting that he’ll show up. She tries to get the negative thoughts out of her head.

But they keep crawling back and Dracos forgot about a lot of things recently. Like their anniversary.

“We’ve been great,” Y/N says forcing a smile squeezing her hand around a wine glass anger and sadness coursing through her veins.

He said he would be there and Y/N hopes he will.

And it was like slow motion

Standing there in my party dress

In red lipstick

With no one to impress

And they're all laughing

As I'm looking around the room

But there was one thing missing

And that was the moment I knew

Some reality sets in and she realizes that Draco might not show up. No don’t think like that Y/N shakes her head in denial. She wants to believe that Draco will show up just for her she wants to with her whole heart.

But something in her stomach makes it feel off and she keeps trying to shake the feeling off.

Y/N stands there in a cute white dress and red lipstick across her lips as she keeps her eyes on the door waiting for Draco.

She feels like she’s dressed up to impress no one. Y/N wanted to impress Draco and wanted him to show her at least some love.

For the past 7 months Draco has been either busy or not wanting to be around Y/N unless it’s at night. Dates are lonely because he forgets.

Y/N gets that he has a job but he shouldn’t just neglect her in the midst of his work. Draco is one of her main priorities but she isn’t one of his.

People keep laughing around her joking and enjoying themselves.

Tears threaten to seek out as Y/N looks around the room to see if Draco came in but she didn’t notice him.

But there’s no sight of the Malfoy and Y/N walks around her heels clicking on the hard floor trying to seen if sneaked in and it was all a prank.

And all Y/N can find is nothing. Some doubt seeks into Y/N knowing Draco might not come breaks her heart.

And the hours pass by

Now I just wanna be alone

But your close friends always seem to know

When there's something really wrong

So they follow me down the hall

And there in the bathroom

I try not to fall apart

And the sinking feeling starts

As I say hopelessly

"He said he'd be here"

Hours pass and Y/N feels dread crawl up her chest as Draco hasn’t shown up.

With everyone talking to her wising her a happy birthday, Y/N just wants to be alone to drown her sorrows. She just wants Draco to be there is that so much to ask for.

Y/N would’ve gone to Dracos party for him. Hell she would have done anything for him.

In their 6th year in Hogwarts Y/N offered to take the place of Draco as he had an order from Voldemort. But Draco didn’t let the happen.

He said, “Y/N love I won’t let you do that. I will not let this drag you down. This is my duty and I just need to keep you safe.”

Y/N scoffs at the memory back then if something went wrong Draco would’ve been there in an instance. Even on her birthday he always showed up with a gift and flowers.

Even in their dreadful 6th year he still showed up.

Y/N runs down the halls tears staining her cheeks as Dracos friends notice her and his absence as well.

Blaise lets out an annoyed sigh leaving the girl he was talking to behind to follow Y/N to the bathroom. Blaise knocks on the door hesitantly.

“Y/N,” Blaise asks.

“What,” Y/N snaps wiping the tears away trying to keep calm.

“I know what you’re thinking and Draco will be here soon don’t over think it,” Blaise explains.

Y/N scoffs again of course he’s defending him she thinks. Even thought Y/N and Blaise were friends he would always choose Dracos side no matter.

“He said he’d be here,” Y/N sobs into her hand as mascara stains her eyes making her look like a raccoon.

Blaise internally curses Draco for not being there and opens the door to see Y/N crying with her knees pulled to her chest.

“Oh Y/N,” Blaise says out of pity and sadness. He pulls her to her feet and brings her to a hug.

“He’s a dick Y/N don’t let it get to you,” Blaise kisses the top of Y/N’s head and Y/N is lucky to have such a good friend like Blaise.

And it was like slow motion

Standing there in my party dress

In red lipstick

With no one to impress

And they're all laughing

And asking me about you

But there was one thing missing (missing, missing)

And that was the moment I knew

Blaise helps Y/N and she dries her tears away not wanting to alarm everyone. She still has faith Draco will show up just a sliver of faith.

Y/N and Blaise returned to the room were everyone was laughing and partying. Y/N lets out a smile through her pain.

At least some people are happy.

Blaise just says to forget about him but everyone is asking her about and how Draco and her are.

Y/N respond politely saying everything was fine even though she was just lying through her teeth.

What do you say, when tears are streaming down your face

In front of everyone you know?

And what do you do when the one who means the most to you

Is the one who didn't show?

As the time gets closer to midnight and her birthday will be almost over tears start falling down her cheeks on a faster rate.

People asks Y/N why she’s crying on such a happy day but Y/N can’t respond and people just leave Y/N be.

She feels pathetic crying in the corner of the room as people stare at her while others are just minding their own business.

Y/N wants to believe that her boyfriend will show up and shock her but she feels like that isn’t going to be an option in her books.

“Y/N he’ll show,” Blaise reassures her as he comforts her.

Y/N nods wanting to believe him but she can’t. She can’t when he should’ve been there ages ago.

You should've been here

And I would've been so happy

No matter what Draco has to say he should’ve been there for her no matter what.

And if he was going to be there Y/N would’ve been the happiest girl in the world.

But Y/N reminded herself life isn’t a fairytale.

And it was like slow motion

Standing there in my party dress

In red lipstick

With no one to impress

And they're all standing around me singing

"Happy birthday to you"

But there was one thing missing

And that was the moment I knew

Ooh, I knew

Ooh

It felt like slow motion as people sang happy birthday before midnight came.

Y/N blew out the candle with a fake smile on her face wanting to make the people who showed feel appreciated.

As people hug her and congratulate her Y/N thinks just one thing is missing.

And that is the love of her life.

Y/N knows she shouldn’t have to deal with this but her love for him was so strong nothing could defeat it.

When Draco talks to her next he’ll make some half assed apology and excuse and Y/N would nod and pull him into a hug.

And she would accept his while reassuring him that it was okay and that she still loved him.

But Y/N has had enough of this and even though she loves him so much, Y/N can’t handle this pain.

The pain of being left behind without a thought.

Y/N accepted his apology the first few times but after so many times it gets tiring. Waiting for him to show up for dates. Or even just for dinner.

Either way Y/N’s had enough of this.

You called me later

And said, "I'm sorry, I didn't make it"

And I said, "I'm sorry too"

And that was the moment I knew

When Y/N gets to her flat she gets ready for bed. She would usually go to Dracos mansion but tonight shes tired annoyed and frustrated.

Y/N doesn’t feel like dealing with Dracos bullshit right.

She takes off all of her make up and puts her pajamas on and once she lies her head on her pillow Y/N finally lets the tears fall.

As she sobs and curls into a ball all she thinks is why. Why couldn’t he just show up and be there for her.

In the midst of her crying someone calls the phone.

“Hello,” Y/N sniffles without even looking at who might be calling her.

“Love I just wanted to apologize for not being there. There was this work thing,” Draco apologizes and doesn’t even notice that she’s crying.

“I’m sorry too,” Y/N scoffs. “I’m sorry that I’ll always be second to you and I shouldn’t even be sorry.”

“Love-,” Draco starts to say but Y/N intercepts.

“I’m done. I’m done with you and everything,” Y/N snaps and hangs up the phone.

Y/N lets a sigh of relief feeling a weight of her chest. She finally feels good about herself.

[uuujeewriting]

may I request HCs for Albedo, Childe, Kaeya, Diluc and Xiao realizing their fem!darling is a yandere? like how would they feel and react?? ( i hope u don't make it too angst :(( ) - if u don't feel comfortable wrting this, i am deeply apologize, feel free to ignore this :<

stop it [albedo, childe, kaeya, diluc, xiao]

they find out their darling is a yandere! how will they fight to fix them?

tw: UNHEALTHY/TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, gore, violence, cuss words, manipulative behavior, obsessive and possessive behavior, murder

albedo x fem! reader, childe x fem! reader, kaeya x fem! reader, diluc x fem! reader, xiao x fem! reader

a/n: just a note that this behavior should not be romanticized and should not be followed! i believe that the boys would not condone this behavior either. sorry that this took a while nonnie! hope this is to your liking.

i would like to clarify that if any of these scenarios/hc's of mine are similar to other writers' works, it is unintentional and i apologize

not proof read

albedo

it came to him when he started picking up on your possessive behavior

he first found it quite unusual, how defensive you were when people–even his own students–pointed out how much you hogged the man to yourself

it was no secret you loved him, albeit maybe you did a little too much 

for the first few days of this repetitive behavior of yours, he didn’t seem to take it too seriously, he even indulges your fantasies when he found the time to do so

calling him yours alone and how everyone wouldn't matter, just as his queen said

how foolish of him to feed into this obsessive mindset of yours, he now knows

the kreideprinz was a fearless man, never submitting even to the most nerve-wracking of consequences

you should earn an award for making him tremble

face to face with your gruesome figure, albedo hesitates to move

finally, you break the tension

“what’s wrong, my love? is something bothering you?” you ask, taking a step forward

“stay back. don’t you dare touch me- i-..” he grows speechless

you slowly retreated to your space, pouting

“is it this corpse? i’m sorry, but she was getting in the way! always asking about your whereabouts and such, truly a burden-”

“sucrose was my assistant! why the hell wouldn’t she ask about me?!” his heart rate quickened, the blond has never experienced this much terror in his life

you grew silent, taking in the chief alchemist’s words

he feels his heart drop to his feet when he sees you smile slowly

“well, there’s nothing we can do about it now, hm?” you hug albedo after throwing the bat you used to bash open your victim’s skull, tainted with putrid crimson 

you laugh and bury your head in his chest but you notice droplets of water falling to your scalp

you look up at your quivering love and he stares back at you

“i’ll fix you, i’ll do whatever it takes to change those despicable temptations of yours and i’ll get you back, y/n.”

childe

childe was naturally clingy, never letting you out of his sight for more than two minutes. as a result, he didn't pick up on the subtle signs of your toxic behavior

what made him question this was your unreasonably foul attitude towards his family

one night, you and him visited his siblings in snezhnaya to have dinner

he was jubilant to say the least, the love of his life will finaly get the chance to meet the people he loved just as much as her!

"why are you so excited to see your siblings?" your question left him dumbfounded

did you not want to see them?

"well, y/n my dear, if there was anything i loved nore than you; it would be my beloved family!" he chuckles

when you reach his house, he's so excited that he misses how your eyes darken when he knocks at the door

"big brother! you're here!" teucer jumps in joy and hugs his sibling, the brother in question hugs back lovingly

how you hated it, make it end already

"teucer! i've missed you, too. how are sister tonia and the others?" childe smiles

was your presence suddenly not the most important thing anymore to him?

oh no, you're not going to let this happen

you cough and childe looks back at you, apologizing

"sorry, babe. come inside, i'll introduce you to the others." he takes your hand and guides you indoors to the living room

at the sight of their dear big brother, the group of siblings raced and laced their arms around him one way or another

childe laughs and attempts to stretch to hug all of then at the same time, only being able to circle two of his siblings

you felt inadequate again, damn siblings.

as childe introduces you to his family as his girlfriend, you didn't bother to mask your dislike for them

this concerns your beloved to the highest caliber

dinner rolls around and uncharacteristically, you offer to help out with preparing the food

childe was reluctant but overall, he couldn't deny a chance for you to finally change your views on atleast one of his siblings

"thank you for allowing me to help, tonia." you smile, feigningly to clarify

"it's no problem, i should be thanking you for insisting." she laughs and leaves the food on the counter to grab a condiment placed on the opposite side of the kitchen

quickly and silently, you scan the premises for what you needed

you find a container of rubbing alcohol in a compartment

grinning, you took it and spilled half the container into the water jug to be served

discarding of the half-empty bottle and putting the jug's lid back on, tonia returns and continues preparing the food

perfect.

when the food and tampered water was served, you replaced childe's glass of water swiftly

one of the siblings drinks the water and after a few minutes, he excuses himself while coughing

tonia was next and then teucer, childe was going insane and growing more and more concerned

finally having enough, he checks the food and once he smells the strong scent of alcohol in the jug of water, his eyes widen

he turns to you, his heart sinking at your triumphant expression

"y/n, how could you?!" he furrows his eyebrows, what happened to his beloved?

"they were taking you away from me. what was i supposed to do?" you raise an eyebrow

he clenches his fist. when he hears his siblings suffering, he heaves heavily

"we'll talk about this later and i swear to the gods i will change your attitude."

kaeya

kaeya is perceptive, he may have picked up on your despicable views earlier than the rest

how? don't question, it's his responsibility to take care of you

he does nothing at first, finding your obsessive behavior harmless at the present time

however, he draws the line after one particular event

"haha, well- if it weren't for how you sneaked through headquarter grounds, i wouldn't have had to waste my time tracking you down." he peers sarcastically at rosaria, he latter scoffing

"it's none of my business what you find suspicious." she sips on the wine she was holding

kaeya lets out a 'tch' and looks away, clearly upset

he arrives home to you cooking supper, his arms snaking around your waist

you smile, "bad day?" you ask, you know how he gets when he's dim and gloomy

"not particularly, but just had some trouble with sister rosaria."

what?

"what about her?" your grip on the ladle tightens

"nothing, it's really not a big deal." he palms your hand, kissing your neck

"oh, alright. if you say so, love." you state, but he should've watched what he says

you had your mind set and there was no stopping you

around 2-3 am you sneaked out of your shared home with the captain.

grabbing a cloak and satchel which incased your belongings, you head out into the streets

'where could that damn nun be at this time of night?'

you ponder for a good few minutes until-

bingo; clearing camps.

sneaking past the knights is rather easy, distract them with a rabbit and all is good

pulling the hood of the cloak lower to hide your face, you speed into the wilderness in search of rosaria

you find the preoccupied nun vanquishing a camp of hilichurls around the whispering woods, too busy to notice your presence

opening your satchel, you take your mask and secure it to your face

time to go through with the plan you'd devised.

"huh-?" rosaria hadn't reacted fast enough and you managed to tackle her to the ground after the last hilichurl was disposed of

she chokes on your hold and attempts to shove you off, only for her attempt to whiff

grabbing the polearm she had in her dominant hand, you twirl it and use it to replace your hand on her throat, choking her with ger own weapon

"w-who in t-the world..?" rosaria glares and struggles to keep herself conscious

you smirked, putting more pressure on the polearm

she grows more and more panicked, you bask in her expression of utter helplessness

she should have known better than to mess with you

to mess with kaeya

this is what she gets

you are going to have your way

yes, almost there-

"not quite, fiend."

suddenly, you get pulled back by the hood and you gasp in shock

rosaria recovers quickly and stands up, snatching back her weapon from your distracted figure

"though i hate to admit it, you sure can be a helpful comrade, cavalry captain." the nun scoffs

your blood went cold

"now who in the seven nations might this rodent be?" kaeya frowns, you attempt to struggle from his grip but to no avail

he takes off your disguise and you purse your lips

"..y/n?" rosaria questions, much more confused than your lover

"i had a feeling." kaeya remarks, surprising both you and the nun

"kaeya, you understand right? she upset you, she made you go through all that work just for you to find out it was some shady bitch roaming around the fucking city!" the two wince at your vulgar language, clearly not having any of it

"what's done is done." rosaria states and goes ahead to return to mond

kaeya lets you go and crosses his arms, disappointed in you

"you should know better, y/n. i'll have you know that although i love you dearly, this behavior of yours is not what i want from you." he reprimands you and you furrow your brows

"it's just me showing my love for you, i don't see what's wrong."

your statement makes the knight sigh

this is going to be a long night for the both of you

diluc

diluc wouldn't be too busy to spend time with you, but he'd be too busy to take notice of your toxicity

you lived in the manor, because of this, you had access to everything in the site

and when i say everything, i mean everything

yes, he trusted you too much and that's his downfall

not his, but rather a maid's

you were aware of his darknight hero duties and he made sure that you did, kissing you goodbye before leaving to rinse the land of roaming dangers

one night in particular, a certain head maid had made you quite envious

offering diluc a glass of grape juice, fixing his collar before he goes on about his daily stroll, even daring to clean his shared bedroom with you! my, how audacious she is.

after giving you a tender kiss, your lover heads out into the night and leaves you with the maids, giving you the opportunity to continue on your devious ways

calling adelinde into the garden, she comes along with the items you requested

two towels, a fork and a plate

of course she questioned it but who was she to deny her master's sweetheart?

with shaking limbs, she made her way towards the garden

"ah, finally. you're here," you make your way towards adelinde and she gulps

"i-i have the items you requested, miss y/n," she hands you the three objects that will serve a huge purpose tonight

"thank you," you smile at her as she attempts to smile and bow respectfully

"if that is all, i shall take my leave." she retreats into the manor

or atleast, she thoughts she was going to

quickly, you roll the towel and gag adelinde with it, tying the towel together and stabbing it to her nape with the fork with brute force

she screams for a split second and you smile, quickly bashing her head with the plate.

looking down at your doing, you grin impossibly wide

"miss y/n, why couldn't you have simply knocked her out first as to avoid her creating a rather loud shriek?" elzer sighed

"i wanted to hear her in agony, is that odd?" you raise an eyebrow at the chairman

he shakes his head, "no, not at all, master."

the next day, diluc is faced with a rather odd feeling of dread

as he finds adelinde, ironically, nowhere to be found, he immediately asks elzer which in turn is sworn to secrecy by you

it completely drove him mad, and you tried to take his mind off the maid yet he only pushed you aside

this angered you to the core

"what–is that maid more important than me now, after all this work i've done for you?!" you yelled at him and he huffs in annoyance

"what do you mean work?!" he yells back

"what could you have possibly done for me-" "i got rid of that bitch!"

he freezes, what did you just say?

you, there's no way. you aren't serious right? he must've misheard you, there's no fucking possibility that his head maid was de-

"she's gone. i made sure of it."

diluc feels a boiling sensation in his stomach and he takes your wrist to drag you to the outside of his office

"y/n, you better tell me where she is or i swear to barbatos i'm going to-"

he stops himself. what was he going to do? the same thing you had just done?

you smile at his realization, circling him

"see? you were just about to be hypocritical there, love." you chuckle

diluc gritted his teeth and steadies himself

he's going to teach you a lesson one way or another, but never in his life will he come to commit the crime you'd done

xiao

the adeptus neither cared nor disliked the things you do for him, however, when you stepped out of line one day, he began to watch over you like a hawk

it was when the traveler, lumine, visited your adeptus lover

you were excited to see xiao, you had two plates of almond tofu in hand and was stepping up the staira to the balcony

you hummed a little tune to yourself

"first hilichurl got sick, second hilichurl took care, third hilichurl gathers medicine, fourth hilichurl prepares-"

you halt your singing when you hear laughter

laughter from a woman, huffs from a man

an adeptus

your adeptus

"xiao, thanks for meeting up with me today, i really appreciate it." lumine smiles at the yaksha, "we would've been at a loss if it weren't for you."

frowning, you step back and watch them from behind the opening of the balcony

"i am in no need of your reassurance, puny mortal. it was a necessity for rex lapis' sake, do not take it any other way." he says, although the flush of his face was an obvious indicator that he also cared for his friend

"yeah, whatever you say xiao." paimon laughed and lumine soon after

fuck. you felt something break on your foot.

xiao and the traveler snapped their heads to your direction–

only to find nothing there

"i'll go check on it," lumine offers and xiao simply nods, finishing the tofu she brought for him

the blonde traveller walks to the scene and sees a plate of almond tofu in bits and pieces

"eh?... what's all this?" she questions

she crouches down to observe the scene

her fault.

"AH-!" lumine tumbles down the stairs with you on top of her

not giving her time to react, you punch her in the face repeatedly

"don't-" smack in the face

"try-" punch up her chin

"to-" bash her head on the floor

"take-" punch to the left

"him!" punch to the right

verr goldet and paimon cries for you to stop, the former prying you off the bruised blonde

xiao hears the commotion and sees the traveller's nose bleeding and your figure heaving on the ground, fists clenched

if verr goldet hadn't pulled you away, you would've killed the girl

xiao huffs and shakes visibly

"what is all this?" he angrily mumbles, "care to explain yourself, y/n?"

"xiao-" you begin to cry, "why would you spend time with her? i'm hurt of course!"

"you intend to tell me you're the only one i can talk to?" he raises his tone

"yes!" you whimper

unbelievable

"..verr goldet, bring the traveller to a healer, y/n, come with me." he holds a stoic expression

he was beyond angry

following him to the balcony, he keeps a distance from you, about three steps away.

finally coming to a stop, he faces you.

"i don't know what got onto you, but we're going to solve this," he crosses his arms, "right here, right now."

[kraviolis]

(this is for my rival streamers au)

“OHO! You rascal! You can’t get away that easy!”

Joshua squeals in delight, kicking his feet and waving his arms, as Dr. Coomer holds him high in the air. 

It’s adorable and yet super weird to watch your professor and your son having such a good time together. You find yourself smiling at them, something warm blooming in your chest. Dr. Coomer blows a raspberry into Joshua’s cheek and makes him squeal again.

“Those two seem to be… getting along.” Dr. Bubby says. 

He’s sitting across from you, sipping at a glass of red wine. You almost wish you could ask for a glass, wanting to really soak yourself in the warmth of tonight, but unfortunately you still have to drive home.

“Yep,” You lean forward on the table, crossing your arms to hold you up. “Dr. Coomer’s actually really good with him.”

Dr. Bubby raises an eyebrow. “Of course he is. Harold’s always been good with kids.”

His tone of voice makes you feel like there’s something deeper going on there but you aren’t sure if it’s polite to ask about it. You turn your attention back to Joshua. He’s being chased around the living room now, somehow running with the confidence of someone that’s been able to walk for far longer than just a few months. 

(Jeez, has it already been a few months since he watched him take his first steps? It feels like it was just yesterday.)

(You suppose you understand what your mother meant when she said you weren’t allowed to grow up when you were a kid, now.)

Still, you can’t help but wonder. What was the extra meaning behind what he’d said about Dr. Coomer being good with kids? Did… did they have kids? No, no that doesn’t make sense. Neither of them had known that Joshua couldn’t read yet or chew steak on his own, despite being only a year old.

“If you have something to say it, then just say it.” Dr. Bubby cuts through your thoughts. You look at them, a little embarrassed at being caught. “Seriously. I don’t have all night, you know.”

“Sorry,” You rub the back of your neck sheepishly. “If— If it’s okay to ask… Do you two have any kids?”

Dr. Bubby chokes on his wine, coughing lightly. “Hell no! I don’t want a bunch of sticky-handed stupid little babies who can’t even read running around! I already have to deal with teaching at work- I’d fucking explode if I had to do it at home, too!”

“Yeah, no, that’s— that’s fair.” You don’t think you appreciate the implication that your son is stupid, but you shrug amicably anyways. He’s got a bit of a point.

“Besides, even if I wanted kids, neither of us can actually have any.” He admits and you frown sympathetically.

“Oh. I’m… I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“Eh, it’s whatever. Never bothered me before.” He waves a hand, as if clearing away any attempt at compassion directed towards him. 

Dr. Bubby pauses, though, and sighs. Their eyes become downcast and they stare at their wine as they swirl it gently in the glass. 

“It’s never bothered me, but… Harold, on the other hand...”

You wait patiently, letting Dr. Bubby continue at his own pace. You glance over briefly and see Dr. Coomer investigating the living room bookshelf with Joshua, showing him the various knickknacks adorning the shelves. He tells him to be gentle and holds out a glass figurine, not letting him hold it but just allowing him to run his tiny fingers across it.

“Harold’s always wanted kids,” Dr. Bubby continues, his voice far softer than it has been, drawing your gaze back. “Long before we knew each other. Long before he even knew himself. But life… life is cruel, Gordon. Life doesn’t care about you, it doesn’t care about your dreams. And sometimes, you have to make choices that no one should ever have to make.”

Dr. Bubby’s hand is trembling in… what seems to be anger. He notices, shakes his head, and knocks back the last of his wine before sitting back and scowling at the table. You’re confused, unsure of what exactly he means. You go to say as much but pause when he looks up and meets your eyes. It’s like a shadow is blanketing their face, something from deep inside rising and making itself known in their eyes.

“Back then people like us, like me and Harold— sometimes we had to choose between having a family of our own or a chance to be ourselves. Harold was told he couldn’t be given hormones without also getting a hysterectomy. The risk was too great, they told him.” They growl, baring their teeth. You notice absentmindedly that his canines are sharper than they should be. “What a load of shit. They didn’t even know if there was a risk! You know how many studies have come out since then proving those bastards wrong?”

You open your mouth, trying to make sounds but it just isn’t working.

You… you hadn’t known. Not just about what your professor had gone through at the hands of medical institutions so long ago but also that Dr. Coomer and Dr. Bubby… they’re like you. 

(You feel a completely unexplainable comfort just knowing this, now. And a terrible understanding of what Dr. Bubby means by having to make an impossible choice.)

“I… yeah.” You manage to say, eventually. “I probably read through every study about that stuff when… when I first started transitioning. That’s… God, I— I can’t even imagine being forced to make that choice.”

Bubby narrows his eyes sharply. He circles a finger around the rim of his glass and you have a sudden but distinct feeling of being thoroughly examined, all of you on display and ready to be judged. He squints more intensely, tilts his head, and then relaxes again. 

...Test passed, apparently.

“...Of course you are.” He mutters, crossing his arms. “Right. Should’ve guessed.”

You quirk your lips, half-smiling. “Trans people tend to gravitate towards each other, I’ve found. Even unknowingly.”

Dr. Bubby barks out a laugh, throwing their head back. “Ha! That’s more true than you know, but that’s a story for another time.” He nods towards the living room. “Looks like someone had a little too much fun, over there.”

You blink and then turn. You find Dr. Coomer and Joshua on the couch, your professor snoring away while Joshua is still wide awake, sitting in his lap and tapping randomly on your professor’s phone. You laugh quietly, watching the scene fondly, and see Dr. Bubby looking on with the same dopey expression in the corner of your eye.

“...It’s getting late. I should get going before Joshua starts getting overtired.” You groan as you stand, stretching. Dr. Bubby follows you with a more grumpy groan. “Should— should we leave him asleep?” 

“No, no, he’ll want to say goodnight. Also, he’ll fuck up his back if he stays there.” They say. “You get your shit. I’ll wake him up.”

You gather everything up, grabbing whatever toys you brought and stuff it all back into Josh’s diaper bag. Dr. Coomer wakes back up thanks to his husband poking his face hard enough and quickly saves himself from being locked out of his phone for too long. You pick up Joshua before he can complain about losing his new toy.

Dr. Coomer walks you out, smiling sleepily and waving goodbye to both of you. You thank him for having you over.

“The pleasure is all mine. It was a delight to have you and your boy over for dinner, Gordon.” Dr. Coomer insists.

“No!” Joshua wiggles in your arms, making a sad noise and grabby hands at your professor. He chuckles warmly and lets Joshua grab his fingers, giving him a small handshake. 

“We sure had a blast tonight, eh? But you’re still growing, and you need your rest.” Joshua’s lip wobbles and Dr. Coomers expression falls. “Oh, dear, please don’t cry. Keep your chin up. Goodbyes are tough, I know, but you’re even tougher.”

He punctuates this by pushing Joshua’s chin up gently with his fist. There’s a softness in the gesture that makes your heart melt. Unfortunately, it doesn’t do much to prevent Josh’s eyes from starting to glisten.

“Hey, it’s okay, Joshie.” You smile at Joshua, getting his attention. “We can come back and visit next week! But you have to ask if it’s okay first.” 

You look at Dr. Coomer in time to see his expression brighten at your words. Joshua turns to look at him too. 

“Pease?” He asks, not quite able to say the word, but it still makes your professor’s eyes mist up anyways.

He kneels down to look up at Joshua, taking his small hand in his much bigger one with a touching amount of gentleness. 

“I would love nothing more, my dear.”

[bevioletskies]

the first time (ever i saw your face)

summary: On their six-month anniversary, Apollo and Klavier decide to pose a seemingly harmless question: what did they think of each other when they first met? As it turns out, the topic is a little more complicated than they originally thought.

word count: 4.9k | read on ao3

a/n: For @klapollo-week, day one of seven (prompt: "firsts"). All seven of my fics take place in the same continuity! However, each can be read as a stand-alone, with the exception of day seven being a sequel to day five.

This fic takes place at some distant point in time after Spirit of Justice where Apollo and Trucy have learned that they’re siblings. Mild spoiler warning for the end of Apollo Justice; warning for brief mentions of alcohol. Fic title is from the song The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face by Roberta Flack.

“...why does this look like something out of a direct-to-streaming movie adaptation of a YA novel that has a three-star average rating on Goodreads?”

“If you’re trying to say you don’t like it, baby, you could just say so.”

“No, no, I - I’m actually kinda into it. It’s like we’ve walked onto the set of a staged proposal, though if you ask me to marry you right now, I will start laughing.”

Klavier sighed. “I’m starting to think the phrase ‘romance is dead’ was invented specifically for you.” Nevertheless, he tugged gently on Apollo’s hand. “Come on, liebe, I got our favorite snacks, I queued our favorite movies...and before you ask, nein, there is no engagement ring, so stop looking at me like that.”

“I’m not...totally opposed to getting married, you know,” Apollo added as he followed Klavier. “It’s just...it’s a little early for me. This is only our six-month anniversary, after all.”

“Fair enough,” Klavier hummed, the two of them settling down in their spots. He’d learned long ago that Apollo wasn’t one for flashy, photo op-worthy dates, that he preferred more intimate, low-key settings. And so, for their six-month anniversary, Klavier had taken them to his family estate. He had cleared out the conservatory overlooking the garden of all its furniture, filling it with blankets and pillows, drapes and string lights, and a projector whose screen covered the entire back wall. It reminded Apollo of what he himself had done for their three-month anniversary - because apparently, he was that kind of person now - when he’d planned a weekend’s stay in a cozy lakeside cabin. “A conversation for another time, ja?”

“Yeah, definitely.” Apollo draped one of the blankets over his and Klavier’s laps, then lowered his head to rest on Klavier’s shoulder. Smiling, Klavier turned to briefly kiss Apollo’s temples, then reached for his laptop so he could start the movie. They spent the first fifteen or so minutes in companionable silence, sharing a bag of popcorn and a bottle of wine while they watched, until Apollo eventually spoke again. “...weird, isn’t it?”

“The movie? Not particularly,” Klavier shrugged. “If anything, I’d say the plot twist is a bit predictable.”

“No, not the movie. I mean...this.” Apollo gestured aimlessly. “You and me. Us.”

Klavier’s expression darkened somewhat. “Are you...having doubts about our relationship, Apollo?”

“Wh - no, no, not at all!” Apollo protested, sitting up. “It’s just...I guess it’s mostly weird for me. Like, if someone told me, say, a couple years ago, that I was gonna be in a relationship with you, of all people...hell, can you imagine if someone told me that on the day we met? I-I wouldn’t believe it!”

“You weren’t shy about your distaste for me, true,” Klavier agreed, his slight frown relaxing into an amused smile.

“I don’t think that’s an...entirely accurate assessment of, uh, of how I felt,” Apollo said carefully.

Now it was Klavier’s turn to straighten up, looking at him curiously. “Really?” he asked. “Then what did you think of me when we first met?”

“You first,” Apollo retorted, seemingly on instinct. He then softened. “I mean, only if you want to. I’m kinda curious.”

“I don’t mind,” Klavier reassured him, setting down his wine glass so he could squeeze Apollo’s hand. He hesitated, thinking it over. “...I expected to hate you from the very beginning, to be perfectly honest. And, for a moment there...I did.”

Apollo’s eyes widened. “Wh...what?”

“‘Disgraced Defense Attorney Dismantled By His Disciple’, I believe the headline was,” Klavier continued. He then smiled wryly. “A bit dramatic, if you ask me. But then again, I’m not a big fan of alliteration, so I might just be biased.”

“Did you really hate me?” Apollo’s shout had dropped to a mere whisper. “Because...because you didn’t wanna believe it, did you? About…what had happened. What he’d done.”

“It wasn’t all bad memories, all the time, you know.” Klavier gently released Apollo’s hand so he could brush his hair out of his eyes, though he kept his head ducked low. “We had our moments, him and I. We weren’t close, but...we weren’t estranged, either. In fact, I...I first heard your name from him, not from the papers.”

“He told you about me.” It wasn’t a question. “I guess I should’ve suspected, but I never really knew what your relationship was like...before. I mean, he never once mentioned having a brother, so I kinda assumed…”

“As everyone does,” Klavier shrugged, far too casually for Apollo’s liking. “Anyway, your question was about you and me, not me and him, ja? He told me all the usual things people have to say about you - loud, eager to please, a little bit sensitive. I didn’t think much of it at the time, other than the fact you had a strange name.”

Apollo rolled his eyes, sinking back into the cushions. “Wonderful. Fantastic. Glad to know I made a great first impression.”

“And then when the headlines came along...and Mama and Papa called…” Klavier’s face darkened once more; he cleared his throat. “I looked you up. I hadn’t bothered when I first heard your name, but I had to know. Still, I...I found almost nothing. No photos, no social accounts...nichts. Just a single line on a college graduate roster and the same articles I’d been reading before.”

“...I see.” Apollo fiddled with the ends of his blanket, just so he would have something to do with his hands. “So, when we finally met in person…”

_____

The first thing Klavier noticed was Apollo’s eyes - large, round, expressive to a fault. The color of melted chocolate, though in the sunlight, more akin to the color of honey. Those eyes of Apollo’s, curious and maybe a little bit accusatory, narrowed right at him as he arrived at the entrance of People Park. He internally winced at the sight of Apollo’s companion, who was arguing with the police officer standing guard at the scene. Despite the time that had passed since he last saw her, he could never forget Trucy Enigmar-now-Wright.

Are you working for Phoenix Wright now? Klavier wanted to ask as he approached them. Why? Don’t you know what he’s done? Don’t you see what he’s become?

“I must say I'm used to being inspected by the ladies...but this is the first time I've felt this way with a man,” he said instead, leaning forward to smile somewhat condescendingly at them. Klavier was momentarily struck by how similar they were - how their hair was the exact same shade of brown, how the dusting of freckles across their identically shaped noses matched too perfectly, how their furrowed brows and perplexed frowns were one and the same. The only difference was their eyes, hers more the color of a stormy sea. Perhaps there’s a song lyric there? Klavier mused to himself. Ach, now is not the time.

“Mr...Gavin?” Apollo said disbelievingly, his eyes now widening. His arms, previously crossed tightly against his chest, fell to his sides. The motion caught Klavier’s eye, drawing his attention to the glint of the golden bracelet sitting on Apollo’s left wrist. He wondered if there was some sort of significance to it, what with the way Apollo clutched it tightly with his right hand.

“Ah, fräulein,” Klavier continued, his eyes flickering back upwards. He wondered if she knew him, if she recognized him at all. Clearly, Apollo had no idea who he was; he wasn’t sure how to feel about that just yet. “What is a sweet morsel like you doing in such a dismal place? Can I help?”

“Yes! The police man officer fellow here won't let us in!” Trucy complained, huffing. She brandished an envelope in Klavier’s face, nearly swatting him on the nose as she did. He flinched slightly, surprised by how brazen she was. “We even have a letter of request!”

Klavier’s smile softened into one that was a little more genuine. He couldn’t help but be instantly charmed by her. “You must be exhausted, standing out here. I will take you to the scene of the crime.”

“Ooh! Really?” Trucy exclaimed, brightening. Apollo looked skeptical in comparison, his intense gaze traversing the length of Klavier’s body. Usually, he would have preened at the attention, been flattered by the obvious interest and maybe made a show of looking back, but he knew that wasn’t what Apollo was looking for. I am not him, Klavier thought fiercely. I am not the one you trusted, the one who taught you everything you know. I could never -

“By your leave, officer,” Klavier said with a nod and a wink. He barely heard the officer’s affirmation over his own thoughts. Then, he turned back to Trucy and tilted his head towards the park. “Very well. This way, fräulein.”

Trucy’s giggle was sweet, melodic, as she happily followed him through the entrance. He made a show of lifting the police tape for her to duck under, which she seemed easily amused by. Apollo, meanwhile, was left standing on the street, staring at them incredulously, before he finally seemed to register what was happening. “Hey! What about me?!” he cried. His voice gets raspier the louder he gets, Klavier couldn’t help but observe. Interesting.

Once Apollo had caught up, Klavier turned to grin at them both, teeth clenched beneath his lips. Trucy was rocking back and forth on her heels, beaming back, while Apollo had braced his hands on his hips indignantly, like he had something he wanted to say and was just waiting for the opportune moment to say it. Ach, those eyes, those hands, those freckles, Klavier thought rather stupidly. Wait - you’re not supposed to think he’s cute, Klavier, hör auf!

“On that note, enjoy your investigation,” he remarked. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the flash of a white lab coat further into the park that told him he needed to leave if he didn’t want to be reprimanded - or worse, Snackoo-ed.

“Thank you! Will we see you again?” Trucy asked, hopeful.

Klavier hesitated. Apollo still hadn’t said a thing about the obvious elephant in the room, still staring at Klavier like he was a ghost. He wanted Apollo to say something, anything, to ask questions, to start the conversation that he himself admittedly didn’t want to take responsibility for. But Apollo was clearly stunned into silence, and any courage Klavier had had when he first walked up to them moments ago was long gone.

“Ask the wind, fräulein. I'll be riding on it,” he said, shooting them one last saccharine smile. He could hear the click-click of Ema’s shoes against the cobblestone as she approached. With that, he turned and left, his chest aching in confusion.

_____

The silence was heavy, heavier than Apollo expected. Klavier had turned the movie volume down long ago, leaving them with nothing but the sound of their own quiet breaths. “Makes sense,” Apollo finally said, shooting Klavier a sympathetic smile. “To you, I...I jumped ship from one corrupt defense attorney to another. At least, that’s what it seemed like at the time, right?”

“Part of me wanted to confront you right then and there, but I didn’t want to do it. Not in front of everyone, especially not in front of her. But the other part of me...I just wanted to learn more about you. To get to know you before I decided whether it was a battle worth fighting. Whether he was worth defending.” Klavier then smiled back; now it was his turn to drop his head onto Apollo’s shoulder. “Besides, you were cute, and I’m weak.”

“‘Were’, huh?” Apollo teased, nudging him. “Well, I’m glad Trucy’s presence, your curiosity, and my cuteness apparently deterred you enough to walk away. To think, what would you have done if you didn’t think I was cute - ”

“Achtung, you’re such an arschgeige sometimes,” Klavier groaned, laughing. “Anyway...I got my answer in court soon enough. I could trust you, and he...he wasn’t worth defending. Not one bit.”

“No, not at all,” Apollo agreed. “Still, I’m...I’m sorry, Klav. Not for what I did, I mean, I-I had to, but just...how it all played out. How messy things got. Whenever we, y’know, come here to see your parents, I still see that look in their eyes. It’s that face that you make when you think no one’s looking.” He swallowed. “Mr. Wright says Trucy does that, too. Less now that she’s got me and Mom, but…well.”

“It wasn’t you, Apollo, it was me. It all started with me believing he wouldn’t lie to me.” Klavier’s laughter was bitter now. “Anyway, I’m starting to think we’re all a little too observant for our own good. None of us can ever let things go, nein?”

“We’d be horrible lawyers if we could,” Apollo chuckled, rubbing Klavier’s arm reassuringly. “But fine, fine, I’ll stop psychoanalyzing you now. It’s my turn, anyway.”

“I want to hear this,” Klavier said, snuggling closer. “Lay it on me, baby. Tell me how you fell for me in two seconds flat.”

“I’m gonna lay into you in two seconds flat if you don’t let me talk,” Apollo said dryly, elbowing him again. “I, uh, I don’t think I remember it as clearly as you do, but…”

_____

“Excuse me, coming through.”

It was a voice, a smooth, musical voice, polite but firm, that caught Apollo’s attention first. He turned in its direction, confused by how familiar it felt, how similar it sounded to another voice he knew, but with a light, lilting cadence and a strangely affected accent whose origins he couldn’t quite place.

“Ah! It’s you! Mr. Gavin!”

Apollo’s eyes widened, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, then narrowed at the sight before him. Striding towards them with a swagger in his step was a man who, as far as Apollo could tell, was supposed to be behind bars. Only, his skin was a few shades darker, his hair a shade or two lighter, and he was wearing, for reasons Apollo couldn’t fathom, eyeliner and leather and chains instead of a neatly-pressed suit and wire-rimmed glasses. Who’s THIS guy? Apollo thought, his stomach turning.

“I must say I'm used to being inspected by the ladies...but this is the first time I've felt this way with a man,” the man said, leaning in close; his smile was a little wider than Apollo would have liked. Apollo also didn’t want to think about how pretty he was, how long his eyelashes were or how smooth his skin seemed to be. This can’t be him, Apollo decided, though he was still frozen in place. He could only vaguely feel Trucy’s fingers tugging gently on his shirt sleeve. No, it can’t be - it’s not - but who -

“Mr...Gavin?” Apollo said stupidly. He felt a phantom pinch on his left wrist; he released his arms from where they were crossed so he could rub the spot where it hurt, though the moment he touched it, he realized he hadn’t been in pain at all. The man’s eyes flickered down, following his fingers in curiosity, before moving back up to continue smiling beatifically at Trucy.

“Ah, fräulein,” he said; he was practically simpering now. “What is a sweet morsel like you doing in such a dismal place? Can I help?” Apollo barely managed to refrain from rolling his eyes. Of course, he internally sighed, he’s one of those guys.

“Yes! The police man officer fellow here won't let us in!” Trucy whined, shoving the envelope in the man’s face. Apollo had to bite back a laugh at his startled expression, a contrast to his otherwise indifferent smile. “We even have a letter of request!”

“You must be exhausted, standing out here,” the man murmured sympathetically, eyes sparkling. He seemed intrigued, though Apollo couldn't blame him. He supposed he and Trucy looked like a completely mismatched pair. “I will take you to the scene of the crime.”

“Ooh! Really?” Trucy exclaimed, her entire face lighting up. Apollo tried not to smile himself; her energy was infectious. Then, the man’s words finally clicked in his mind. Wait - really?! But why would he - how can he - who is he?

“By your leave, officer,” the man ordered, winking. A pleasant shiver went down Apollo’s spine, one that he was trying his best to ignore. No good was going to come out of that train of thought, not when this man was clearly someone he needed to worry about - though in what way, he wasn’t sure yet. He seemed too generous, too open. Whether he was a police officer, a detective, or, god forbid, a prosecutor, Apollo didn’t trust him not to lead them astray, not one bit. “Very well. This way, fräulein.”

Before Apollo knew it, the man was walking away with Trucy in tow, leaving him behind. “Hey! What about me?!” he shouted, jogging after them. By the time he caught up, both of them were grinning at him amusedly, as if watching him trip over his own feet was some hysterical inside joke. Huffing, he braced his hands on his hips, ready to open his mouth and protest. The man’s gaze briefly travelled down to his hands once more. What’s that all about? Apollo wondered, confused. What’s he looking at? Is it my bracelet? It’s not that weird, is it? Wait, or can he tell that it’s -

“On that note, enjoy your investigation,” the man said, speaking a little quicker than he did before. He suddenly seemed distracted, like he couldn’t wait to get away from them.

“Thank you!” Trucy chirped, bouncing up and down on her toes. “Will we see you again?”

“Ask the wind, fräulein,” the man said, recovering. He seemed almost too focused on Trucy, like something about Apollo bothered him. Maybe he already knew who Apollo was, what Apollo had done. Was he angry? Resentful? Waiting for the right moment to strike? A shiver of a different kind tingled throughout Apollo’s body at the very thought; the phrase “kill them with kindness” was coming to mind. “I'll be riding on it.” He then left without another word, leaving Apollo to stare stupidly after him, his heartbeat in his throat.

“...who was that?” Apollo exclaimed, stunned, as if he wasn’t confused enough by everything else that was going on. His mind was racing with possibility, with anxiety that he really, really didn’t need. Before he could get into it, however, his jumbled thoughts were quickly cut off by Trucy’s surprised cry.

“Eek! Apollo, look - a c-corpse!”

_____

“...interesting,” Klavier said after a moment’s silence. “Did she really think the mannequin was a dead body?”

“Seriously, Klav?” Apollo groaned. “Surprised you didn’t fixate on the part where I thought you were pretty.”

“‘Were’?” Klavier echoed mockingly, grinning. His expression then sobered. “So...mixed feelings all around, it seems. I suppose it shouldn’t be all that shocking, though. We weren’t...total strangers, after all.”

“You practically were to me,” Apollo murmured, tangling his fingers in Klavier’s hair. Klavier leaned into his touch, his eyes fluttering closed in contentment. “At least you knew I existed, while I...he never…” He then shook his head. “Y’know, I-I’m not sure if I really wanna think about this anymore. Not if it makes us think about him.”

“It’s not one of our happiest memories, nein,” Klavier agreed, humming. “I like where we are now...where we can trust each other. There’s little I hate more than ambiguity. And not knowing how I was supposed to feel about you…”

“Sucks, right?” Apollo let out a hollow laugh. “But at least we were on the same page, in a, uh, weird way. I guess that’s always been our thing. Even when you’re driving me up the wall in court - which is all the time, so don’t even question me, I see that look on your face - we’re, y’know, generally working towards the same goal.”

Klavier’s fingers danced along the length of Apollo’s forearm, tapping out a rhythm that Apollo couldn’t quite pick out. “I’d like to think so. I was never really sure until...ach, well. You remember.”

_____

Apollo was still trembling as he exited the courtroom with Trucy by his side. She was putting on a brave face for them both, but he had a feeling that she was more torn up about what had happened than he was. He wanted to comfort her, to reassure her somehow after they’d learned the truth behind her biological father’s death, but for once, he was completely speechless.

“Polly?” Trucy’s voice was tentative. “I’m...kinda hungry.”

“I...oh.” Apollo looked at her curiously. Out of all the things he’d expected her to say, that hadn’t been one of them. “Do you wanna get something to eat? We could go to Eldoon’s if you want.”

“No, that’s okay,” Trucy reassured him. Her face then lit up. “I was actually thinking about the courthouse café! We can get cake and drinks and stuff. A little sugar goes a long way!”

Apollo smiled softly. “Sure, Trucy. Whatever you’d like.”

And so, they found themselves a small table at the courthouse café - and maybe calling it that was rather generous on Trucy’s part - with two thick slices of Swiss rolls and tall glasses of milk tea. Admittedly, Apollo still felt numb, but Trucy’s running commentary of her thoughts on the trial kept him going. “Now all we need is for Vera to wake up,” Trucy said, gripping her fork with determination. “I’m still so worried about her! What if she doesn’t - ”

“We can’t think like that, okay?” Apollo said, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand. “We gotta have hope. That’s all we can do, you know?”

“I guess,” Trucy murmured, chewing her bottom lip fretfully. She went quiet for a minute or so, poking at the last bits of her drink’s half-melted ice with her straw. “Hey, um...Daddy says he’s meeting up with a friend later today, and he wants to have dinner. And when he says ‘friend’, he usually means Mr. Edgeworth. You know, the prosecutor?”

“Yeah, I’ve definitely heard of him.” Apollo sat up a little straighter at the word ‘prosecutor’. In his stupor over the whole ordeal, he’d barely spared a thought for Klavier; he could only vaguely guess how he was doing. “What about him?”

“I was just wondering if, maybe, you’d wanna...join us?” Trucy suggested. He’d never seen her so hesitant before. “For dinner, I mean.”

“...oh.” Apollo paused. “No, uh - not today, sorry. I should really go home and sleep all of this - ” he gestured aimlessly “ - off. I feel like I need to sleep for, like, three days straight.”

“Sure, of course,” Trucy nodded, smiling faintly. “But….you’re still coming back to the agency, right? Maybe not tomorrow, but like...in a few days?”

“Yeah. Yeah, definitely,” Apollo promised, surprised by how quickly he’d responded. In all his hesitation, his doubts about law and what it was meant to be, what it could be, he was finally starting to feel like the Wright Anything Agency was where he belonged.

After they finished eating, he and Trucy parted ways after a long, much-needed hug on the courthouse steps. Apollo then went to fetch his bike from the rack adjacent to the courthouse parking lot, only to spot a familiar face lingering nearby, seemingly in no rush to leave.

“...Gavin?” Apollo said carefully.

Klavier turned sharply at the sound of Apollo’s voice. His smile was a touch too wide, his eyes suspiciously glossy. “Ah, Herr Forehead,” he greeted, ducking his head; his voice sounded trapped in his own throat. “Good show in there, as always. You never fail to impress.”

“Thanks. Hey, um - I’m surprised to see you’re still here,” Apollo commented, taking a few tentative steps closer. “Don’t you have somewhere...better to be?”

“Not really, nein.” Klavier let out a short, forced laugh. “I have paperwork to do, I’m sure. But it can wait.”

“...right.” Apollo cleared his throat awkwardly. “Thanks, by the way.”

Klavier blinked. “Entschuldigung? What for?”

“For agreeing to summon your brother, and...y’know, everything after that.” Apollo found himself oddly fascinated with a few stray pebbles on the ground, nudging them around with the toes of his loafers so he wouldn’t have to look at Klavier’s face. “Look, I-I’m not gonna pretend like I know what you, or Trucy, or Mr. Wright are going through. I’m mostly on the outside looking in, so. All I really know, if I know anything at all, is that, uh...we did the right thing. Yeah?”

“Ja.” When Apollo looked up, Klavier was also deliberately looking elsewhere, staring off into the distance at nothing in particular. He’d displayed a whirlwind of emotions back in the courtroom, but none of them were quite the same as the bitter expression he was wearing right now. “...Apollo?”

Now it was Apollo’s turn to do double-take. “Huh? Wh-what is it?”

“Danke schön. For...everything. I honestly don’t think I could’ve done...any of that on my own,” Klavier confessed, his voice thick with emotion. “And I think I...I think I’m going to take a little time away from the prosecutor’s office. Not for long, mind you. Just...I need some time off. A week, maybe two. Some distance, some perspective...it would make a world of difference, achtung.” He then turned to face Apollo directly for the first time since they started talking. He looked tired, defeated, even. His posture, his expression - Apollo felt as if he was seeing an entirely different person standing before him.

Without thinking, Apollo took the last few steps forward and closed the gap between them, wrapping his arms around Klavier and pulling him close. Klavier let out a startled noise; then, he hugged Apollo back, sinking his weight against Apollo’s, his forehead dropping to Apollo’s shoulder. His exhale was long, unsteady. “Take care of yourself, okay?” Apollo said, fingers digging into Klavier’s back, his face buried against Klavier’s bicep. “And if you ever wanna talk about it...I-I mean, I’m sure I’m not your first choice, but still. I’m, uh, I’m around.”

“Danke,” Klavier murmured, barely above a whisper. They stayed like that for a moment, maybe a moment too long, just holding each other in the middle of the courthouse parking lot for anyone and everyone to see. Klavier’s breath trembled against Apollo’s ear; Apollo half-expected his knees to give out from underneath him. Then, he slowly detached himself from Apollo’s grasp, carefully schooling his expression into something more Klavier-like, something brighter and blander, his teeth blindingly white in the mid-afternoon sun. “Anyway, I should really get going. That paperwork isn’t going to take care of itself, ja?”

“Oh, uh. Yeah, don’t I know it,” Apollo said, letting out another strained chuckle.

“Until next time, then,” Klavier said smoothly, winking. “Auf Wiedersehen, Herr Forehead.” He didn’t wait for Apollo’s send-off, instead turning and heading over to his motorcycle, humming and twirling his keychain expertly between his practiced fingers. Apollo watched him peel out of the parking lot, silently wondering if he’d said all he wanted - no, needed - to say.

_____

“Of course I remember.” Apollo held Klavier just a little bit tighter. “But, y’know, again - not our best moment. Not by a long shot.”

Klavier lifted his head from Apollo’s shoulder so he could kiss him briefly, gently. Apollo smiled against Klavier’s lips, cupping his jaw so he could bring him closer. “But I’d still say our first kiss is more of a memory worth reminiscing over. Wouldn’t you agree, liebe?”

“It was a little dramatic for my taste,” Apollo teased, pulling back so he could affectionately nudge his nose against Klavier’s cheek, his fingers lightly pressed into Klavier’s sides. “But you’re into that sort of thing, so I’ll give it a pass. Still, let’s just agree not to cry all over each other ever again, okay? It was honestly kinda gross. And wet. And not in a fun way.”

“You’re saying you won’t cry when I propose?” Klavier asked, pouting exaggeratedly. “Because ach, I know I will.”

“Who says you’re proposing?” Apollo retorted, grinning as he prodded Klavier in the chest. “What if I get there first? What if, while you’re getting down on one knee, I just whip a ring box out of my pocket - ”

“Then I really will lose my scheisse,” Klavier murmured, his lips ghosting across Apollo’s skin. “I’m going to hold you to it, baby.”

“Can’t guarantee it’ll happen, but I’m definitely gonna try,” Apollo said, turning his head to capture Klavier’s lips once more. The two of them exchanged slow, lazy kisses for a few minutes, fingers loosely tangled in each other’s hair. In the background, the movie continued on, long forgotten; not that it mattered, seeing as they’d watched it together many times before.

Eventually, Klavier carefully detangled himself from Apollo. He passed him his wine glass, still half-full, then reached for his own and lifted it above his head. “To making new memories, ja?”

“Are we really cheers-ing ourselves? That’s pretty self-serving, literally,” Apollo said dubiously, though he still raised his glass all the same, amused by Klavier’s dramatics. “But hell, why not? To new memories that don’t involve us crying, sneezing, yelling - ”

“You make us sound like absolute disasters, achtung,” Klavier protested, chuckling. “We’re not that bad, are we?”

Apollo took a sip of his drink, then leaned in close, so close that his nose brushed against Klavier’s, his wine-stained, kiss-bitten lips stretched into a fond grin. “Nah. I think we’re doing just fine.”

_____

a/n: Welcome to my first entry for Klapollo Week 2021! I've never participated in any fandom challenges/events before, so I'm super excited to see how this goes. My plan is a little overambitious, with all seven fics set in the same continuity, but in a different order. For example, this fic is actually the last, chronologically speaking, while day seven's fic is set in the middle. If you're wondering why they were crying during their first kiss, you'll have to wait until then 😉

Don't worry about any of that, though, you don't need to read the others to follow along! Day seven is technically a sequel to day five, but it can be read as a stand-alone, though I think it packs more punch if you read it after day five. They're also the longest; every other fic averages out to about four to five thousand words, whereas five and seven are over ten thousand words each. Brevity is the soul of wit? Not in my Google Docs, I am wordy as hell.

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Likes and reblogs would be much appreciated. Hoping you're all safe and healthy and doing well ❤️