#I swear Part 8 for The Partner Revealed is coming soon

[yeonchi]

Kisekae Insights #29: Parental Conflict

I know I promised something big for this instalment, but I decided to tone it down for the last two instalments of this run and save the big one for the next run.

When I was younger, I didn’t necessarily have the best relationship with my parents. There were times when I’d come into conflict with them (mostly my mum) just because I wanted to do my own thing. I suppose it was a time when I was impressionable and easily misled (being autistic makes this highly dangerous), but there were times when they’d just get on my nerves.

Ironically, my parents are the reason why I’m single – aside from all the social awkwardness and unwillingness to maintain friendships (mutually and not just the way I want), there was a pretend marriage incident when I was 8 that led me to believe that it would be better to keep potential relationships a secret from them, plus the potential of my parents telling my future partner about my autism, my failings and how they would have to deal with me also adds to my worries. I suppose my personal project was an outlet for all my frustrations with my parents and a way of depicting my ideal relationship, while doing the Kisekae Insights series is a way of trying to find people who can relate. So anyway, let’s get right into it.

Alone, but with friends

For most of his childhood years, you never saw Hiroki’s parents because he lived with Parker and/or whatever army they were in at the time. In 2001, Hiroki’s parents threatened to abandon him at Madame Tussaud’s in Hong Kong when he wouldn’t stay still and look at the camera for a photo, which led him to regenerate into his first prototype, Richard Yang. This is the event that began the animosity between Hiroki and his parents.

Hiroki’s mother was frequently shown in 2003 (and a little bit in 2004) when he was in his preschool army. Following some relationships and incidents with Kimia and Tiffany in 2005 (see #9), Hiroki’s mother confronted him about the love letters he wrote to them, scolding him for being in love with girls because he was too young to understand what a relationship really is. She tore up and threw out the love letters, but unbeknownst to Hiroki, his friends had already copied the letters in case they got lost.

In 2006, Hiroki joined the Tongmenghui, led by Richard Yang, while his parents and relatives were part of the Imperial Army’s ranks. After about 18 months of fighting and a few incidents involving corrupt superior officers, the Imperial Army surrenders and Hiroki is emancipated, however the Tongmenghui was disbanded soon after. From then on, Hiroki and Parker stayed together through their time in their primary and secondary school armies, though I would presume that Hiroki’s parents would find some way to keep tabs on their son.

Flip-faced vendetta

By 2012, Hiroki began dating Akari. Three weeks before the events of the Salacian Time War, Hiroki’s parents see them kissing and they immediately swear a vendetta against their son as he and his girlfriend run off. Yeah. That’s how traumatised my childhood was. It was at this point that enemies began targeting Hiroki and Akari for their relationship, though the former’s parents played a more minor role in all the enemy’s schemes compared to the latter’s cousins. That Christmas, Hiroki’s family confronts him and gives him a choice to leave Fiona or be shunned by his family, but he gets over it with the help of Jack Harkness and Parker Zhou.

A year later in 2013, Hiroki is captured in a trap and taken by his parents, who locked him in a secret room of their house that was actually the entrance to a secret club Hiroki had run in his childhood (which I won’t go into). Following a regeneration, Hiroki manages to escape by turning on all the stoves and setting the house on fire. While Hiroki and Akari elope, Narutaki and her friends send their parents and relatives on a wild goose chase. Despite this however, they still attended their wedding, but it was later revealed that they were illusions created by the Archangel Network satellites; they were actually helping Antoni, the Master and Reona Yukawa with their plans. Both families were later defeated by the Doctor and his friends, but like the Master, they naturally survived.

In 2014, Hiroki’s parents and family allied with the Kurayami Alliance and they were among the enemies facing off against Hiroki and the Eastern Army at Osaka Castle and Nijō Castle. When the Last Great Time War on Earth ended, Hiroki’s family were among those put on trial for their crimes. Hiroki’s parents were sentenced to be exiled and were forbidden from entering Yokohama.

The Orphan Cognate

This was the original story I wrote for Doctor Who Series 12 in 2018. Following the six-month battle with the Monks, the Doctor and Bill Potts visit Yokohama. Akari wants Hiroki to come with her so they can meet his parents, but he doesn’t want to go see them because of his complicated history with them. Bill offers to come with them because she wants to understand why Hiroki doesn’t want to see his parents. After hearing his backstory, Bill tells Hiroki that she never met her real mother and father and that he is lucky to still have parents; even if he is no longer the person he used to be, he should see his parents at least once so they don’t have to keep worrying where their son ended up. Akari also tells Hiroki that he doesn’t have to be scared of his parents anymore and that their families know of his soul-searching journey of redemption (which will be covered when we get to Decade). Sure enough, Hiroki meets with his parents and they reconcile.

And now you know the role of Hiroki’s parents in my personal project, written as a result of being a bird in a cage who can only seek love and freedom through his imagination, when it was right in front of him all along and he wasn’t able to see it because of his autism. In the end, maybe true family was the friends we made along the way- nah, that’s a cheesy line I used a week before writing this lol. Anyway, see you in the next instalment. It’s another heartfelt one.

[serpent-jugheadjones]

Crispy Edges

Pairing: Jughead Jones x Reader

Description: Y/N found out the secret ingredient to winning Jughead’s heart.

Warnings: None I can think of.

Word count: 907

A/N: Happy New Year! This year I grew the courage to start sharing my fics and you guys have been making this an amazing experience for me. Every single one of your likes and reblogs means a lot to me and your comments always bring me joy and motivation to keep doing it :) I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I do writing! Here’s to a 2018 full of art and love ❤

Tag: @southsidejuggie​ @ju-gg @lostnliterature @eternally-infinitely

Y/N knew about Jughead’s living conditions before anyone - not that he told her. She was never allowed in the projection room because he claimed it was against company policy, Jug never needed a ride home after the last showing, and he was always at the Drive-In. It wasn’t hard to piece things together with all that info. Anyways, she couldn’t do much about the Twilight being shut down, but she wasn’t going to let her friend be homeless. Jug didn’t need her help, though. He told her he’d be going back to his dad’s place and that put her worries to rest.

It came as a shock when Archie told Y/N that Juggie had been staying in a closet at school that whole time. Saying she was pissed is an understatement, since she repeatedly offered her guest bedroom for him to stay. The girl even cleared with her parents first (Not that they would deny. They love Jug.). However, Arch eased her anger by revealing Jughead would be living with him from that moment on. Mr. Andrews even said she could come by anytime. And she did.

The first time Y/N stopped by was to do science homework. She couldn’t help but notice the empty cardboard pizza boxes and Pop’s takeout bags piled in the trashcan. Without Mrs. Andrews, Y/N didn’t know the last time they had eaten real food. But, as their study nights usually end up, they spent the time watching cult movies rather than finishing homework. She left just as Fred was arriving with dinner - a few chock’lit shakes and a bag with a burger for each of them. He invited her to stay over, but she politely declined. It doesn’t take a genius to know that things at Andrews Construction weren’t going well and having another mouth to feed wasn’t exactly helping. Either way, Y/N knew Juggie needed at least 2 burgers to be satisfied.

With that in mind, next time Y/N showed up was with two paper bags full of cooking ingredients. Jug looked overwhelmed by it and the girl didn’t think he ever cooked before. She told him to dice the tomatoes and they almost had blood on the sauce since he almost cut his thumb out. Y/N made sure he was ok before kindly asking him to make the juice instead, while waiting for the water to boil, she prepared the sauce with fresh seasoning and garlic. As the pasta cooked, Jug stole some of the tomato sauce from the pot with a spoon, claiming it was quality control. She playfully shoved him out of the kitchen so she could fry the meatballs (To me they are vegan, but to each their own) without any thieving. 

Everything was finished just as Archie arrived from football practice and Fred from work. Jug had already laid out the table, so they just helped themselves to the food. It was visible on all their faces that they hadn’t had a homemade meal in a long while. As they served their second plate, Mr. Andrews thanked her for the food once again. “Jug, if you don’t marry her, I will.”, Archie said playfully in between chewing. Y/N choked on her juice and covered a blush behind a napkin. “In your dreams, Archibald.”, Jug retorted a little too serious.

That became a Friday tradition, since Mr. Andrews wouldn’t let Y/N do it every night like she wanted to. She’d buy the ingredients to an easy recipe and cook at their house with Juggie tasting everything to make sure it was good. Whenever Y/N  would sleep over, she’d wake up early and make pancakes for breakfast. The boys would always say she didn’t have to (Except for Jug, he can’t turn down food, ever.). But deep down Y/N loved taking care of them. 

That specific Friday, Jug had been more helpful than playful, and Y/N found that odd. But what truly confused her was if it was Archie’s fake threat of getting her first or just the amount of food she’d been providing him, but for whatever reason, Jughead kissed her. As their lips connected heatedly and her back slammed against the kitchen cabinets, the lasagna in the oven was forgotten. Only until the smell of burning cheese made them let go of each other. Thankfully it was just the edges.

Fred confessed that the crispy edges were his favorite part. Y/N had to keep a giggle in, because she was sure that if he knew the reason behind the crunchy lasagna he wouldn’t enjoy it so much. Jug just kept his head down to avoid contact with the man fostering him. Archie picked up on the sexual tension in the room quickly and simply smirked at the couple.

If Y/N knew that all it took to be Jughead’s girlfriend was food, she would’ve cooked for him earlier. He denied that was what gave him the motivation to kiss her, though. In the end, the girl was just thankful for whatever fired the boy with the enthusiasm to do it. After all, them being best friends all their lives and having the failed relationship between Archie/Betty as an example didn’t exactly give Y/N the courage to confess her ever-growing feelings towards the broody writer. Losing his friendship wouldn’t be worth it, until his lips touched hers.

[thegirlwhowritesawksh-t]

la douleur de l'amour - georgenotfound x f!reader

author: @thegirlwhowritesawksh-t​ me!

word count: 4.7k +

warnings: hella angst, mentions of blood/scabs/injuries. if there’s any you think that you see, please let me know!

a/n: hi y’all :)) first off, to whoever’s reading this: stay hydrated, smile and laugh! and second: this is my submission for @bozowrites​ writing event! <33 congrats!!

**this is my second fic, and i’m hoping to push more out as i get more comfortable with writing! i’m thinking to maybe make a part two to this but i don't know yet. please let me know what you think! *sending besitos to y’all :))*

Prompt: Why are you crying?

1:15 p.m.

In the corner of a dimly lit studio in front of the barre, (y/n) leans over to her left, counting four beats before resetting and proceeding to stretch over her right side. After months spent choreographing, picking costumes, and endless bandages wrapped around her feet, it has led to the final product: her first piece in her dance company’s annual recital premiering tonight.

All (y/n) could feel was pure energy and pride at what she has created. It’s her baby after all and nothing could ruin the day for her.

Feeling her joints start to loosen up, she runs through a mental list in her head making sure each dancer had their costumes, knew where all the dancers would start and end on stage, as well as remembering her own choreography, seeing as she had an important section to end her piece. After double-checking, (y/n) then begins to travel to the center of the studio, and begins to run over the piece.

Remember the triple pirouette here, before you end with a leap to fourth position. Finishing in the fourth position, she lets out a curse as she accidently stubs her right thumb toe, a small scab already tearing at the edge. Shaking out her pain, she reattempts the move, succeeding with an effortless bow.

“You know, your piece is going to be excellent. Why are you so worried?”, a voice calls out in the quiet studio, with (y/n) yelping and trying to find where the voice came from. Standing against the edge of the doorway stood Liam, her dance partner and best friend. (y/n) begins to chuckle and runs the piece over again.

“Can’t help but make sure it’s perfect. I have drenched all my blood, sweat and tears creating this dance, this- this masterpiece. It is my first, and most certainly not my last choreographing piece at this company. There’s too much riding on this for me.”, she replies.

“Even if so, I’d like to think you’ll be fine. Don’t stress, it’s amazing. Otherwise, how are you feeling?”

“Kind of excited, kind of feeling like I should run away.”, (y/n) replies. Avoiding to answering the question entirely, she begins to run the piece over again. She continues,

“I think regardless, it should be a great night. George is coming to the recital tonight and it’ll be the first time he’ll be seeing this dance.” With George editing and recording videos for the Dream Team, his Twitch channel, and YouTube channels, (y/n)’s barely seen him since the start of the dance season. The only time she’s been able to spend time with him has been going to bed with him - even if it’s been a bit more rare lately - and sometimes, a free day on a weekend with no dance practice or no recording for George.

“So that’s why you are nervous, how cute.”, Liam laughs, with (y/n) leaping over to Liam and swatting their arm lightly.

“He swore that he’d come tonight, and he knows how much time I’ve spent perfecting this. I just can’t imagine tonight going any other way. I made sure to get him a seat right in the front, so he’ll be able to see the whole performance, and me.”, (y/n) smirks. As soon as (y/n) found out she would be choreographing one of the pieces in the recital, she immediately told George her good news. George had told her she deserved it for working her butt off since the start of her being at the dance academy. Making him pinky swear, George swore that he would be there for her first performance with her also starring as a choreographer.

“So focus on that instead of thinking your piece is going to crash and burn! Relax a bit. We only have a bit of time before we start getting ready, so let’s run it over a few more times. And don’t even think about slacking off now, missy, we’ll stretch and go get ready after.” Liam decides, and she nods, thinking it’s probably for the best. Running to her bag, (y/n) sends a quick message to George.

George J: hey, can’t wait to see you tonight! i left your ticket on your nightstand, and remember to dress up slightly, it’s a dance recital after all ;) lub you xo - sent at 1:34 p.m.

Content with her message, she tosses her phone back into her bag, and heads back to run over the piece with Liam once more.

>>>

6:47 p.m.

Sticking the last bobby-pin to her bun, (y/n) glances in the mirror to make sure no mistake is in place. Eyeing her look, she can’t help but smile looking at her dance attire, admiring how her purple leotard and dress matches her eyeshadow. Paired with a dark nude lip, she smirks and turns to check her phone for any messages, hoping that one could be from George.

Out of the nine messages she received, most were from friends and family, wishing her luck on her performance tonight. She replied with a thanks and a heart emoji before finally reading the last message coming from George about two hours ago.

George J: hi darling, i saw the ticket, i am so excited for you! can’t wait for you to take my breath away, as you always do. love you more xo  - sent at 4:48 p.m.

Smiling even wider, (y/n) puts her phone on silent, before walking towards the backstage area, passing dancers along the way. Grabbing their hands and wishing them good luck, she arrives at the destination, nerves buzzing as members of the audience start gathering at their seats. Deciding to take a peek, (y/n) rushes to the curtains, peeking her eyes out towards the front rows, trying to spot the pale boy who danced into her heart. First row, seat G for George, she giggles to herself.

“Trying to find your lover? I’m right here!” Liam asks, with (y/n) turning around.

“As much as I’d love that, I’m no Harry Styles, so I don’t think I’m your type…” (y/n) smirks.

“Hm. Where’s George, I want to see him!”

“I’m looking for him right now, Liam. Give me a second.”, (y/n) laughs as she turns back to the audience. Finding his seat, she subtly frowns seeing as he’s not in his seat yet. He’s probably in the bathroom, or still in line to get to his seat, (y/n) tries to explain to herself.

“He’s not here yet, I think he’s in the bathroom or something. But give him time, he’ll be here.” (y/n) mutters as Liam frowns at her.

“He better show up, it’s your night, (y/n).”, they grumble. They start to say more however-

“Places, everyone! Take your places! We’re starting at seven sharp!” the stage manager yells out. He continues,

“We start in five minutes!” Rushing to get off the stage, she sees dancers brush past another wishing them luck. As the ballet dancers start to move into their places for the intro piece, she then walks over to Liam, helping them set up the microphone as they begin to breathe slowly.

“Hey, you got this. It’s just reading off of cue cards and announcing pieces. And then you’ll be set for my piece. You’re going to do great, Liam.”, (y/n) tries to motivate, with Liam smiling shyly at her.

“And your piece is going to kick ass, (y/n). It’s perfection. Just wait until George sees you dance. I’m a hundred percent sure he’s going to fall for you even more.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see…” (y/n) laughs. Liam clears their throat a bit before raising the microphone to their lips. (y/n) proceeds to head to the viewing room, where a broadcast of the show would play for other dancers to watch and support their fellow castmates.

Taking a deep breath, Liam starts to speak as (y/n)’s nerves start to palpitate.

“Hello, how are you this evening? And welcome to the 67th Annual Recital for the London Dance Academy! I am your emcee, Liam Barrings, and let me introduce you to the first dance of the night created by Sam Hastings. Here is Invictus!”

>>>

8:51 p.m.

An hour later, seven dances, and many whispered good jobs, it is finally time for (y/n) to step on stage and premiere her masterpiece. Slowly tip-toeing to her first position on stage, she glances at her castmates, thanking them silently in her mind for them to trust her to bring her visions to life. Before the curtains open, she turns to Liam on her right, kneeling down and grabbing her thighs, and they smile back at her.

“Ready for it?”, they smirk. Thinking to herself, she nods and turns back to the front of the curtains waiting for the music to begin. Remember the triple pirouette after Liam grabs you. And try to look like you’re in pain from loving him. It is exquisite pain, right (y/n)? Liam is toxic, yet you still love them. Make it believable. And finally, breathe.

Another emcee, Josh begins to speak.

“And now, I present to you (y/n - y/ln)’s dance. This is her first piece with her own choreography with the London Dance Academy, and tonight, we are the very first group of people to watch her story come to life. Please let me introduce you to (y/n) and her piece, La Douleur Exquise!” the audience claps softly, before the curtains open its wings to reveal the creation.

The background, a stark white, yet the lights casts hues of soft lilacs, with streaks of dark reds splattering across the dancers’ bodies. With a small pause, music begins to sing out of the speakers. Liam and (y/n) begin the piece with a small duet. Following closely behind, a quad of dancers mimicking their moves with childlike innocence.

Liam turns to (y/n), conveying an I love you through their linked hands and they abruptly pull her to their arms, as she looks at them with confusion in her eyes and pulling away. Gliding towards the middle, the quad walks slowly to (y/n), enveloping her with open arms, before having a dance section with (y/n) in the middle as Liam looks on, hellbent on grasping (y/n) once more. Every other beat, (y/n) turns to Liam, feeling lost as if they were missing from her.

As the quad looks away, having their own small solos, (y/n) slips away from the group only to leap back into Liam’s arms with her hands grasping their face as Liam slowly grips her waist. Looking at her with renewed interest, his face morphs into fury as one of the dancers pass by her, softly guiding his fingers from her shoulder down to her inner wrist. An angry duet starts, with Liam and (y/n) clashing against each other, as if saying they hate but love each other at the same time.

(y/n) leaps into Liam’s arms, before slowly sliding herself off him as the quad of dancers, follow closely behind, lifting (y/n) to her feet. Everyone proceeds to move as one, with the quad dancing in the center, whereas Liam paces their way to (y/n), lifting her into the air once again, before they land in a small leap. Conversing with their bodies, Liam guides (y/n)’s hands to their heart, slightly pulling her along. Finally coming to the end of the dance, (y/n) runs to the center of the stage, facing the audience.

Grabbing her left arm is Liam, pulling her to their side, and the quad of dancers are pulling her on her right. The war between the two goes back and forth in a tug-of-war before (y/n) seemingly gives up and slams herself to the ground, as the music fades into silence. The audience erupts into booming claps and cheers, and (y/n) feels herself being pulled up from the ground by Liam as a light blush covers her skin. Glancing up at the audience, she tries to smile despite the stage lights burning into her. I did it, I managed to make a story, my story come to life. Hearing the audience continuing to clap, realization sets in and she finds her eyes wandering over to the front row, seat G for George. Seat empty, her smile falters and her eyes become glassy. Some would think because of her success with her piece. She couldn’t tell if she was happy or sad, maybe it was a little bit of both.

>>>

9:23 p.m.

He’s here, he has to be. He’s probably peeing or waiting for me in the front with flowers, or in the dressing room. He has to be here, I know it, (y/n) mutters to herself, hellbent on her beliefs that George is here. Yet the bitter taste of rejection starts to seep into her bones. Shaking her head a bit and attempting to put on the brightest smile, she starts to rush back to the dressing room, a sinking feeling residing in her stomach with each looming step.

Facing the dressing room door, (y/n) can’t help but hope that maybe George is standing there with a bouquet of flowers and kisses reserved for her. Slowly opening the door, her hopes slip through with her mouth curling as she stares at only her reflection in the mirror. He swore that he’d be here. He swore that he would be here for my first performance, (y/n) softly whispers to herself, tears threatening to fall. Gasping, she finally lets herself breathe as she repeats to herself again and again that he wasn’t here.

A soft knock on the door interrupts her thoughts, causing (y/n) to quickly wipe her tears before foolishly yelling out,

“George?”, as the door opens to reveal Liam and the Director himself, Nicholas Anderson.

“(y/n)? It’s us. Where’s George?” Liam asks, a frown settling into his brows.

“Oh, he’s just in the bathroom, he hasn’t been feeling good.” She lies, feeling bile itch her throat. A little white lie shouldn’t hurt anyone, (y/n) thought.

“Hello, (y/n). You looked wonderful out there! Your dance was easily one of the highlights of the night, I couldn’t stop replaying the duet between you and Liam in my head. Your dance truly captured the aspects of a toxic relationship not from one side but from both of point of views. It truly showed exquisite pain, knowing that you would always go back to Liam, but would Liam be there for you?” Nicholas explains, his words smacking (y/n) at full force. Is- is George there for me?, (y/n) thinks to herself. Nicholas continues on,

“I think you are a great addition to our Academy, and tonight truly proved how ready you are to become a full-time member. So how about it? Next season, we’ll be adding you to the roster of choreographers.” Eyes wide, (y/n) nods furiously with a yes and hugs Liam. Nicholas smiles and exits the room, leaving behind two excited dancers jumping around.

“You did it! Now we have to celebrate! Club night, I don’t care. We are going to get plastered! Bring George!” Liam laughs. At the mention of George, her stomach turns as she then realizes George wasn’t here. What sounded like good news turns to rot as she starts thinking of George.

“Let me check my phone, it has been a while in the bathroom, huh?” (y/n) tries to joke, trying hard to not let her voice waver and letting her brain scramble to come up with another small lie. Reaching through her phone, she reads over the texts once again sent from family and friends, finding the conversation between her and George. No new messages, her heart sinks as she slowly starts to open up the rest of her notifications, scrolling to most likely find the purple box that would always stay permanently stuck on her home screen. With bright white letters glaring at her, her heart begins to ebb away feeling a familiar sense of loneliness.

1h, 53 min ago: MINECRAFT MANHUNT W/ THE DREAM TEAM

Relying on her emotions, she turns to face Liam, hoping that her excitement of her promotion would overcome the feeling of abandonment of the man she loved. Plastering a sad smile through watery eyes, she forces out,

“George isn’t feeling well, he’s got an upset stomach. I think it’s the stomach flu going around.” If you can convey pain through dance, you can lie through this as well, (y/n) thought. She continues,

“I don’t know if I should be going out since he’s sick.” (y/n) mutters.

“So we go without him! It’s your celebration, his loss.” Liam rolls their eyes. His loss, my loss - seems like the same.

“I- I don’t know, Liam… I’d want to celebrate with him as well.”

“And I get that, but at least go out with us. You always have tomorrow with him, or later tonight. Do it for tonight, do it because you’re going to be a choreographer next season! At least do it for me and the group. We’ve worked our ass all season and we made your vision come true.” Liam explains. Contemplating with herself, (y/n) resolves with a soft smile and mutters an okay. Pumping their fist in the air, Liam excuses themselves to notify the others of the good news and plans.

Once again facing the mirror, (y/n) repeats with determination to celebrate her night. It’s her night to celebrate with loved ones, even if the one she loved the most isn’t there beside her. So much trying to take your breath away when you weren’t even here, George. Taking a breath, she forces out a shaky laugh and tries to smile. Let’s go celebrate, (y/n).

>>>

1:39 a.m.

Slightly stumbling out of the taxi, (y/n) manages to slowly walk her way up to his doorsteps, phone still showing that George was still streaming. Pausing her hand on the doorknob, she resolves to try to wait until morning to confront him, not trusting herself completely to be okay in front of him. Opening the door softly, she walk in, attempting to not make a sound. With small steps, she closes and locks the door before setting her bags down. That can be cleaned tomorrow, (y/n) thought. Rubbing her eyes, she decides to make herself tea before she goes to bed, most likely not with George until he finishes his stream.

While making her tea, (y/n) thinks of everything that she has worked for in the last few months. Endless changes to her dance, countless small injuries, whether it be a jammed toe/finger, scrapes of blood scattered around her feet from dragging her feet too hard across the floor, everything. Why is it that with her triumph, she is beyond proud yet the idea of George not being there to witness her moment shatters that accomplishment? Mulling it over, she doesn’t notice George bustling down the stairs, finished with his successful 5 hour stream with Dream and Sapnap. Spotting (y/n) making her tea, he slowly approaches her and wraps his arms around her waist, landing a soft kiss to her shoulders.

“Why are you home late, Darling? It’s nearly almost two in the morning.”, George chuckles, as (y/n) freezes in his arms. Softly shaking her head, she tries to side-step out of his arms and brings her tea to the opposite side of the room, wrapping an arm around herself. Clearly, he didn’t remember, (y/n) slowly starts to think and repeat to herself.

“Why do you think I was out, George?” she softly asks, taking a sip of tea to calm her nerves. I guess we’re just going to have to hash it out now.

“I don’t know, but did you see the stream? I beat Dream at the last second and he was this close to defeating the Ender Dragon!”, George starts to explain while laughing, with (y/n) taking a harsh breath in. Pinching in-between her brows, she snaps,

“No, George, I didn’t see the stream because I went out to celebrate.”, she mutters, tears slowly starting to escape.

“(y/n)? Is there something wrong? Why are you crying?“ Turning around, (y/n) tries to look anywhere but him. She settles on looking at the clock, watching as time went by, and her nerves increasing with each second. George starts to say more-

“I needed you tonight. Do you remember what tonight was? To my career? To me?”, (y/n) cuts him off. Standing there without a thought, dread slowly seeps in as George realizes that he missed her performance. He starts to stutter,

“Darling, I- “

“No! No. You do not get to apologize. I needed you and where were you? Sitting on your ass playing Minecraft with Dream and Sapnap! I get that your career is very reliant on you being consistent with your uploads, but you couldn’t have taken a night off? For me? I- ”

“(y/n), it’s not like that at- “

“Don’t- just don’t try to explain or come up with excuses. I just don’t want to hear it George. I spent months working on this, exhausted yet still pushing myself for the damn Academy. You swore that you would be there. I left you the ticket on your nightstand, you even texted me saying that you were excited to come! So imagine me standing on stage, looking at the front row, seat G, and where the hell were you? Not there, George. You were not there. I looked like a fool waiting for you to see me perform and dance. Do you remember Nicholas Anderson?”, (y/n) tries to ask calmly. George only stare at her with defeated eyes as he shakes his head no. Cursing, she heaves out a breath before continuing,

“He’s the director of the Academy, George. He’s offered me a position to be a permanent member and choreographer for the London Dance Academy. So please, let me ask again: where were you? I had to lie to Liam and say that you had an upset stomach and that you couldn’t come out! So, Liam invited me to celebrate with the dancers, to celebrate tonight’s success.”

“(y/n)- (y/n), we can celebrate now. I know- I truly know I messed up, but I can fix it, we can celebrate right now!” George stumbles out, walking towards her to grab her hands. Stepping back, she glares at George, appalled that he truly thinks he could resolve this. Shaking her head harshly, she bites out,

“I don’t want to celebrate with you. I’ve already celebrated with loved ones.” Rolling his eyes, George tries to reason with (y/n).

“Okay, I get it. I’m the bad guy in this scenario. But I’m trying to make this right. I am so sorry, darling, but I want to make it up to you, you know I am sorry.”

“You know, I never ask you to cancel a stream or get off of the stream. I always try to understand for the life of me why the streams have to be long, but I try. I always watch your streams and interact with your fans for your sake. I’ve had to explain countless reasons as to why you never show up to my performances, or why you can’t go out with me with the other dancers. And I am okay with it, don’t get me wrong. I know how much Twitch and YouTube and the Dream Team means to you. But you mean everything to me as well. So forgive me if I wanted to be a little selfish and ask you to support me in one of the biggest performances of my life.”

“I can go to the next one, (y/n). It’s not like it’s the last performance.” George snaps.

“You don’t get it, do you?”, she asks, wiping furiously at her tears, trying to not stutter through her words.

“What is there to get? Clearly I’m trying my hardest to make it up to you.”, he replies.

“I love you. I’m so much in love with you, it hurts. But you don’t get it. I have been there for everything in your career. Your first hundred subscribers, your first million subscribers, when you won the MCC back to back, everything. This was- is the important night of my life, and you didn’t show up. You stuck with Dream and Sapnap and decided to stream instead. This night was important for my career, and you knew! I told you months and weeks in advance. I wanted you to take charge and clear your schedule for today and- and sit in the damn seat that I chose because G stood for George. It was for you.” She sobs out, chest shaking as she tries to collect the words tumbling out of her mouth. With eyes flashing in annoyance, George tries to speak over her tears,

“(y/n)- “

“I created this dance for you! For me and- and for us. Because we believed in each other and had the support for each other. Clearly, it was one-sided and tonight proved that.”

“(y/n), listen to me- ”, George stops himself. Watching (y/n) fall apart, he takes a shaky breath and tries to walk closer to (y/n). However, (y/n) takes more steps back, leaving a distance of hostility and guilt between the two lovers.

“I love you. I love you with all of my heart. And… and I know you love me. But I needed you. Do you even need me?” she asks, the thick silence covering the air.

“Yes! How- how could you even say that, (y/n)?“ George replies just as quick as she finished asking. Looking at him for the first time tonight, she lets out a sob. With cheeks red, hands tugging at his hair, and George frantically looking at her, (y/n) can’t help but cry a little more.

“Because tonight proved otherwise. I wanted a night of you to myself to watch me be pretty and dance, and you didn’t even give up one night for me.”, she says, tugging at her sweater. Looking up, she further goes on to say,

“How stupid would it be if I were to ask to choose between me or the Dream Team? Or- Or your career?”, barking out a bitter laugh as George stares with guilt. As silence meets her ears, (y/n) slowly starts to sober up, eyes slightly widening with shock.

“George…”

“I’d find a way to make it work, I’ve been making it work for us since the beginning!” George snaps.

“George, you know I would never ask that, because I personally think it’s a selfish question. But if I decided to ask seriously, right now. What’s your answer?”

“And I’m telling you, I am making both work. Please believe me, (y/n).”, George says quietly, grasping at whatever opportunities there are left to resolve this potentially fatal matter.

“I can’t tell anymore.”, her voice cracking as fresh tears pool down her cheeks.

“I don’t think I can stay here for a while. At least until I’ve had some time to think.”, she manages to force out.

“(y/n), you can’t be serious. No, we are fixing this now!” George tries to say with an unwavering voice, eyes slowly becoming glassy.

“I can’t look at you George without wanting to cry, and- and scream- yet tell you I love you, even if you don’t deserve my love, especially right now. I need to go- I’m going to go. I’ll be back in a while.”, (y/n) says, choking on her words. Walking backwards, she turns to the door, with George following her and watching her pick up her dance bags. Lying on the ground was a bouquet of flowers, crumpled amongst her heart. Choosing not to pick up the bouquet, she mumbles out,

“I’ll call you when I’m ready.” Pausing, (y/n) looks up at George for the final time tonight, willing herself to not run back to him, despite how much the desire is growing to do so.

“I love you, George.”, opening the door, George yells out,

“I love- “, the door cutting through his confession, acting as a wall between the two. George tries to reach the door knob, ready to run after the love of his life. Yet… he’s frozen on the spot, with tears finally trickling down his cheeks, and pushing deep breaths out to steady his shaking heart.

Why are you crying, George?

[shadyteacup]

Part 5 of Triagonal Heartache

Recap:

1. Kunikida kissed Dazai.

2. Y/N has to go over to her new company to sign some documents before starting as an employee.

Excerpt:

She just had to ruin his entire plan! That bitch. The disgusted look on Dazai's face was enough to make Kunikida blame it all on Y/N. Now, he didn't just hate her. No. He despised her.

Triagonal Heartache

Y/N's phone rang, waking her from her power nap. She hastily pat her desk, trying to find it. As soon as her fingers brushed past the metallic device, she grasped it, swiping her thumb blindly over the screen, a reflex action that she had developed over the years; answering the call.

"Hello?", she said groggily.

"Y/N. Where are you?"

She immediately recognized Dazai's voice, and noted the serious tone of his voice.

"I'm in Madrid. What's wrong?"

She sat up straighter, opening her tired eyes, and turning on her table lamp.

It was 4 am right now, atleast, at her location. She had to travel out of Japan for her new job. What she thought was a trip to the Yokohama office to sign a couple of documents, turned out to be a flight to Spain. She was to co-head a project based in Madrid. She was going to operate from Yokohama and serve as the link between Japan and Spain.

She had to meet her partner, the one who was to head the project from Spain, in a couple of hours. She was working on her notes when the jet lag caught up to her.

Japan is 7 hours ahead of Spain. It's probably 11 am there. She had reached Madrid around 1 am, meaning 8 am at Yokohama.

Dazai must have just gone for work.

"Madrid? Why- You know what, nevermind. I wanted to talk to you. Can you spare me fifteen minutes?"

"Ofcourse."

To say that Y/N was surprised would be an understatement. She hadn't expected her ex to kiss her bestfriend. What the hell was happening?

"You know, he probably liked you for a long time before today."

She said, considering Doppo's careful nature and inborn urge to be methodical at all times. Acting out like this isn't his nature. He probably had a lot of pent up frustration, which must've led him to do what he did. He must've been in love with Dazai for months.

Which also revealed a harsh truth to her. He never loved her. He was playing with her feelings from the beginning. Everything was a lie. Tears welled up in her eyes, as she realized that she fell in love with a fake.

Dazai caught on to what she must've been thinking pretty quickly.

"Y/N, I swear to God, if you shed another tear over that disgusting man, I will kill him."

"Whoa, hold on, now. Nobody's killing anybody."

She quickly grabbed a tissue, wiping the stray tears off her cheek, getting rid of any evidence that she had shed a tear.

"Also, didn't I make you promise to not intervene in this matter?"

Dazai sighed on the other end. He knew she'd find a way to avoid blaming Kunikida. He had left the office after Kunikida's rather privacy invading advance, and was now seated in a Cafe. One that both him and Y/N frequented.

He couldn't spend another minute with the blonde, without punching his face, that is. He had to calm his mind before he ended up doing something rash.

Dazai now understood what Kunikida must have planned. He must've wanted to get on Dazai's good side by blaming it all on Y/N.

Only Y/N beat him to it by telling him the truth.

"It honestly doesn't matter, Y/N. He hurt you, so I lashed out. Simple as that."

She bit her lip. She had anticipated this. She knew that Dazai would do something like this, but had tried to prevent him from acting out by making him agree to a promise.

It's Dazai; she should have known that he'd find a way around it to do whatever he wanted to do.

A thought struck her mind.

"Do you... Do you like him back?"

As much as Y/N tried to hate Kunikida, she couldn't. She had actually loved him when they were together. It was difficult for her to hate, or even dislike, him. She still cared about him.

"What the fuck, Y/N? Are you okay? Or did the jet lag mess with your brain?!"

"Hey, hey, no need to get hostile! I'm just.. curious."

Dazai's blood was boiling now. He couldn't believe that Y/N still cared about Kunikida. Especially after everything he had done? He doesn't deserve that kind of affection!

Hell, if only you had fallen for Dazai instead, if only he had acted on his feelings earlier, you wouldn't have had to go through all this pain. Dazai wasn't a good guy, he had done quite a few "bad" things in the past, and if the situation requires it, he would continue to do these "bad" things. But he wasn't a jerk. He understood your feelings and actually cared for you. He would never hurt you or play with your feelings.

'Ofcourse I wouldn't her,' Dazai thought.

'I love her, damnit!'

The waitress who had come over to his table to give him his order stopped in her tracks.

Dazai noticed this, and his face paled.

His heart started beating faster, and sweat formed on his brow.

The waitress' reaction could only mean one thing.

'Did I just say that out loud?!'

Sorry for taking so long to post.. I had zero motivation.. the storyline is pretty clear in my head. I jut whipped this up in like, 15 mins or smthng

Hope u r liking it so far!

[asciendo]

Betrayal

Make it Right Series Chapter 16

Jean was the cocky bastard that walked around like he owned the place. Y/N couldn’t stand so when the time came that you were his sparring partner, you couldn’t wait to teach him a lesson.

Little did the both of you know, that sparring match would be the start of your unexpected relationship with Jean Kirschtein, that will change your life, and the rest of the Scout Regiment forever.

Chapter 1/Chapter 2/Chapter 3/Chapter 4/Chapter 5/Chapter 6/Chapter 7/Chapter 8/Chapter 9/Chapter 10/Chapter 11/Chapter 12/Chapter 13/Chapter 14/Chapter 15/Chapter 17/Chapter 18/Chapter 19/Chapter 20/Chapter 21

Tag list:  @empty-glass-full-of-emotion @dai-tsukki-desu @usernamehere91@princess-peaches1 @thestrugglesofateenagedirtbag 

The information that Annie was the Female Titan still hasn't sunk in. Despite seeing her body in her glass casket, it was hard for you to comprehend that someone you trained with for three years killed your comrades

Other than that, the events after that were also burning up in your mind as well. How everyone in Connie's village was gone except for one titan that he swears spoke to him.

Another thing was that Krista's real name was revealed, Historia Reiss. Which means she's bound to be the next Queen within the Walls.

That wasn't what was shocking to you though. As you met with Hange and the others, you discovered Reiner and Bertholdt were the other titan shifters, along with Ymir. Your heart sank as soon as the group came to the revelation. You couldn't believe it.

The other Scouts were in disbelief as well, talking about how Reiner was like a big brother to all of them and reminiscing about Berhtoldt's sleeping positions. Jean glanced at you knowing how close you were with Bertholdt. He was angry after finding out Reiner and Bertholdt were spies but his emotions turned to sadness after seeing the look on your face.

As you felt the room, you ran out to the lake and collapsed. You head buried in your hands and you were shaking. You suddenly felt strong arms around you, knowing it was Jean.

"I hate him." Jean said through gritted teeth. He hated both of them. How could they do this after three years of training with all of you? Reiner acted like he would do anything to protect you. Jean saw it with his own eyes how he quickly swooped in to save Armin from the Female Titan. Connie told him about how Reiner almost sacrificed himself to save them at Utgard. Finding out him and Bertholdt were the two spies made his blood boil. But he hated Berthold even more. Jean knew that other than him, you'd rely on Bertholdt. When Jean was assigned to other missions and formations, he was content knowing Bertholdt was with you, knowing he would take care of you.

Jean thought he and Bertholdt had some sort of understanding when it came to you. Jean was usually assigned to another position other than you and you were mostly with Bertholdt. Before parting ways on a mission, Jean would look at Bertholdt and he would nod back at him which gave Jean feel a sense of reassurance that he'd look after you since Jean couldn't be there.

Seeing you in this state, Jean hated Berhtold more than he's ever hated anyone. "Y/N...Don't let him get to you." He whispered, but your head was still buried in your hands. "FUCK!" Jean cursed, he was beginning to feel frustrated at himself, he felt like he didn't protect you from Bertholdt and cursed himself at the thought of you spending so much time with him when he could have hurt you at any moment.

"I swear I'm gonna kill him." Jean muttered and you finally looked up at him. He stopped and wiped the tears that were streaming down your cheeks. "Can you just hold me?" Jean's eyes widened, he's never seen you so vulnerable before. His eyes softened and he snaked his hands around your waist and just held you, in silence.

The next day, you and Jean are on top of the Wall with the others discussing the plan to seal the wall. Suddenly, Reiner calls over Eren and you look over nervously at Jean. You watch from the corner of your eye on their conversation and you can see Eren becoming angry.

Reiner suddenly removes his sling and you place your hand on your blade. There's a look of panic on Bertholdt's face and then he suddenly stares at you. You froze. You didn't know how to react. Bertholdt's gaze suddenly drops as he realized that you knew about him and Reiner.

Suddenly, Reiner moves to capture Eren and Mikasa springs forward. She cuts into Reiner's arms as he defends himself and slicing Bertholdt's neck open. She tells Eren to run as she goes for a killing blow at Bertholdt, but Reiner shoves her from the Wall while Eren watches in shock. The Scouts rush to Eren's aid and Armin tells him to escape, but Eren can only watch helplessly as energy begins to surround the two Warriors. Bursts of energy explode atop the Wall, knocking everyone back as the Armored Titan and Colossal Titan emerge in the chaos.

The Armored Titan takes Eren in its hand while the Colossal Titan grabs Ymir as Historia cries out. The Armored Titan descends Wall Rose with Eren in its grip, and Eren tearfully thinks back to the days of their training together. Bitterly accepting that his two friends are traitors to humanity, Eren transforms into his Titan and lets out a roar as he prepares to battle with Reiner.

There's a sharp ringing in our ear after the blast and you feel heat all over your body. You checked your surroundings and it was full of smoke. There were Scouts hanging from the walls and bodies next you.

You felt an arm grab you and pull you up. "Are you alright?" Jean cups your face and you nod. Looking down, you see that Eren has shifted to his Titan and is fighting Reiner.

Hange commands you to attack and none of you hesitate. Swinging down, you head directly to Bertholdt. Whenever you were near him, the steam he was emitting was too much to come closer to him.

Jean suddenly pulls you away and drags you on top of the wall. Out of nowhere Bertholdt disappeared and all you see is the Armored Titan fleeing with Eren in his grasp and Bertholdt and Reiner on his shoulders.

The expedition to rescue Eren was on its way. You were riding next to Jean. Looking at him, you could tell he was angry. His eyes were darted straight ahead and he was determined as ever to find Bertholdt and Reiner.

Suddenly, you heard rustling in the trees nearby.

"D-did you hear that?" Sasha muttered from behind you. Out of nowhere you heard a scream is heard deeper in the forest, and the Scouts pursue until they come across Ymir's Titan. Connie stops the others from attacking her, asking her where the others have gone.

"YMIR!" Sasha yells but Ymir seems to focused on something else. "Wait..." Armin begins as he starts to realize whats happening.

As soon as Historia appears, Armin starts to panic. "STOP HER!" Armin yells which makes all of you look at him confusion. "YMIR! STOP!" Armin yells as Ymir begins to move.

When Krista approaches, Ymir's Titan lunges at her and catches Krista in her mouth before making a quick escape. The others pursue her, realizing that Ymir's allegiance has changed and they were lured into a trap.

"KRISTA!" You yell as Ymir shuts her mouth and flees. "What's she doing?!" You shout back at the rest. "FUCK!" Jean curses as he speeds up. "FOLLOW HER!" Jean commands and the rest of you follow his lead.

When Ymir nears the edge of the forest, Reiner transforms into the Armored Titan and begins their escape. Bertholdt carrying an unconscious Eren grapples onto the Armored Titan's back alongside Ymir's Titan.

The others watch in disbelief as Eren is once again carried away by the Warriors, but Hannes rallies them into action. The soldiers return to their horses and begin a final pursuit for Eren's rescue.

[arrow-guy]

The Lighthouse (9/??)

Summary: The town is sleepy, the people are nice enough, but life gets turned upside-down when the God of Thunder literally falls out of the sky.

A/N: Hello, hello, time for more of our regularly scheduled Q+A where we ask some questions and get some answers, but never the ones we want. I swear we’re getting to the meat of things, but we have to go through all of this before we get to it, This being the filler stuff that happens before we can get to the real action. That being said, I’m really happy with what I’m putting out today, so please enjoy!

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong

Pairing: ThorxReader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: None

Part 8

"So…okay, so what you're saying is Asgard is gone, this Thanos guy attacked the ship, and you're the only one who got away?"

"Yes."

"But how?"

“What is it you humans say… a magician never reveals his tricks?”

I scowl. “You’re no magician, and that couldn’t have been a simple trick. How did you get away, if Heimdall didn’t send you himself?”

He sighs. “I used the Tesseract.”

“That stupid thing everyone was fighting over in New York all those years ago?”

“And here I was, thinking Earth had forgotten about that.”

“How could we forget an alien invasion?” I shake my head. “A literal alien invasion, and you just expect us to forget about it. Maybe you really are crazy.”

“Forget about New York for now. The Cube itself hides a very powerful object,” Loki explains. “It’s called the Space Stone, and it allows whoever wields it, provided they can withstand its power, to travel through space at will.”

“So you used it to get away before whatever happened messed with everyone’s heads?”

“Yes, but Heimdall was able to send one man off before anything happened.”

“Who?”

“Bruce Banner.”

“Wait, he was with you?”

“He was.”

“Then we have to get in contact with the Avengers!” I exclaim “If he’s earth-side, they would know.”

“Are you mad?” He shakes his head. “You can’t really believe they’d help, knowing that I have anything to do with this.”

“You didn’t cause this.”

“Not directly. But I’m involved.”

“So is Thor.”

“And so are you,” he says. “They don’t even know you.”

“I don’t know if that’ll work for us or against us in this situation.” I pause. “What the hell do you mean you aren’t directly involved? You were on that ship and you’re the only one who remembers what happened!”

“But it wasn’t my fault this time!”

“In what world does being involved mean that you’re at fault?” I shake my head and roll my eyes. “At any rate, any kind of alien anything falls under the purview of the Avengers.”

Loki scowls. “You’re not going to drop this.”

“Why would I?” I shake my head. “I said I’d help, and taking this to someone who actually can is obviously part of that.”

He rolls his eyes. “Fine.”

“(Y/N?)” Thor croaks.

I don’t hesitate in shuffling over to him. He reaches out to me and takes my face in his hands. His eyes are filled with tears and his face is red and splotchy. He looks me over, almost as if he’s trying to decide if I’m real.

“I’m here,” I murmur. “It’s okay to let go.”

His bottom lip wobbles and he gathers me up in his arms and carefully holds me to his chest. I manage to wriggle my arms out of his hold and wrap one around his shoulders. I comb my fingers through his hair and slowly rock him from side to side as his entire body begins to shake with the force of his sobs.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” I whisper. “You’ve lost so much… I’m so sorry, Thor.”

“There was so much,” he whispers.

“I know.”

He balls up big handfuls of my shirt and takes a deep, shaking breath. I sit and hold him until he can calm down. Loki doesn't even shift from his spot behind me, but it does little to put me at ease.

"That was a lot to take in at once," I murmur. Thor nods against my shoulder and I kiss the side of his head. "How about we get you upstairs? You can get some rest and process what you saw."

"I don't know…"

"I'm sure Daisy could be persuaded to come cuddle with you."

"I…" he sighs. "Alright."

It takes a moment for him to haul himself to his feet, but he allows me to lead him towards the door. I can feel Loki's eyes on us the entire time and it makes my skin crawl.

Once out in the hall, I call out to Daisy and she comes bounding up the stairs.

"That's a good girl!" I pat her side and she brushes up against Thor's leg. "Upstairs, Daisy lady, let's go."

She turns and does as she's told. By the time Thor and I make it up the stairs, she's situated herself on top of the covers. Her eyebrows perk up when she sees us and her tail thumps against the duvet. Thor lowers himself to the edge of the bed and tugs me down into his lap. He wraps his arms around me and presses his nose to my shoulder. The angle is awkward and I can't embrace him the way I was able to earlier.

"I'm so sorry," he says.

"You have nothing to apologize for. You're overwhelmed and mourning a sister you never knew you had, your father, your home. I… I don't know how you're feeling, but I know that it's more than anyone should have to go through on their own."

"He told you?"

I nod. "Everything. I know what happened on Asgard and on that ship. I-I am so sorry, honey. I wish there had been a better way for you to find out."

"I needed to know."

"That's true, but," I lean away and push his hair out of his eyes. "I don't like seeing you in pain." He opens his mouth and I press my fingertips to his lips. "I know you were bound to get hurt at some point while we're together. I just didn't expect it to happen so soon and to feel so… so helpless when it did."

I press my lips together to stop myself from saying anything else. Thor opens his mouth, but thinks better of what he was going to say and simply repositions me so that I can actually hug him. He loops my arms around his shoulders and circles his around my middle. He kisses me in an attempt to reassure me and I rest my forehead against his when we pull away.

"I don't seek out pain," he says, carefully choosing his words. "But it always seems to find me. I've lost so much, just in the last few years. I don't want to lose you too. I don't want to drive you away with my past."

"You won't. We're partners in this relationship." I lean back to meet his eyes and smile. "That means a lot of things, and one of them is dealing with each other's crazy."

"My crazy far outweighs yours, (Y/N)."

I shrug. "Mine is getting up there. I mean, I live alone in a lighthouse, was magically prompted to wander out into the woods to find a god, promptly fell for said god, started learning magic and looking for his brother and then dragged him out of the house in the middle of the night to literally go dig him up."

Thor laughs. "Still."

"On a human level, all of that sounds absolutely nuts, no matter how you swing it."

He nods. "That's true."

I smile and peck him on the lips. "You need to rest."

"What will you do?"

"I have to keep an eye on Loki. He doesn't know where he is. I'm sure he has questions."

"I don't know how I feel about you being alone with him."

"I'm not helpless."

"He has a silver tongue and he's manipulative. As much as I care about my brother, I know that he's not exactly trustworthy."

"Okay," I get to my feet and silently coax Thor into laying down. "If anything, and I mean anything weird happens, I'll come get you immediately."

He sighs and scrubs his hands over his face. "I don't know-"

"Thor, I'm an inch away from knocking you out myself." I pull the blankets up to his chin when he protests again and direct Daisy to lay across his chest. He shakes his head and tries to hide his smile. "Sleep. We'll be here when you're ready."

"Alright."

"Okay."

I stoop down and kiss his forehead before leaving the room.

When I return to the bedroom, Loki is exactly where I left him. I lean in the doorway and fold my arms.

“You hungry?” I ask.

His head shoots up. “What?”

I jerk my head towards the hallway. “Come on. I’ll make us some tea.”

He follows me downstairs and hovers while I put the kettle on and place peppermint tea sachets in mugs. I catch him folding his arms and glancing around out of the corner of my eye.

“Spit it out,” I say.

“What?”

“I can see that you want to say something.” I turn and lean against the counter. “So say it.”

His brow furrows. “You really care about him.”

“He’s my partner. Of course I care about him.”

“I see.”

“What’s your problem with me, anyway?” I tilt my head to the side. “Is it because I’m human?”

“Partially.”

“And the rest?”

“I don’t want to see him hurt.”

“I’m sure it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve seen it.” He scowls. “I’m not with him because he’s a god. Thor is a good man. He’s kind and intelligent and gentle. Most of all, he’s patient with me.”

Loki snorts. “The last thing I’d associate with my brother is patience.”

“I can’t say he’s patient in the day to day. I mean, everything is so fragile and fleeting on our planet, it’s easy to get frustrated. But, he’s patient with me.” I shake my head. “I don’t see why you’d be worried about him, though. From what I know about you, you’re not particularly concerned with that sort of thing.”

“I’m allowed the occasional change of heart, am I not?”

“I don’t know.” The kettle comes to a boil and I wait for the bubbles to calm before pouring water into each mug. “Are you?”

He stares me down and only answers when I hand him his mug.

"I'm not sure," he admits. "It's something I'm still sorting out for myself."

"I see. Well, I guess that's all I can ask of you, right? A little introspection never hurt anyone."

He falls silent and I take that time to drain the sachet and add a packet of sweetener to my tea. I blow across the surface of the tea before taking a sip and immediately regretting it. I ask him if he takes any sweetener in his tea and he shakes his head.

“I wonder if I might ask a few questions,” he says.

“Such as?”

“Where are we?”

“A little no-name town on an inlet in Maine.” I lead him to the living room and gesture to the stairs. “I live in and operate the lighthouse.”

“And you truly speak with Heimdall?”

“Mhm.” Charles jumps up into my lap when I sit on the couch. He places his paws on my chest and tries to put his face in my tea. “Not for you, bud. It’s hot.”

He tried again and I pushed him off. He made a little indignant noise and nosed at my hand.

“Who’s this?” Loki asks.

“This is Charles.” Charles doesn’t take his eyes off the mug and I sigh. “You can’t have the tea, dude. What kind of mother would I be if I let you burn yourself?”

“He seems like a handful.”

“Believe it or not, the handful is curled up with your brother upstairs.” I scowl at Charles. “Would you just sit down?”

I set the mug on the end table and scratch up and down his sides. His back arches and he rubs his face against my cheeks. I scrunch up my face and wait till he’s finished. He eventually settles in my lap and I sigh and grab my tea.

“You can take a seat too,” I say, gesturing for Loki to sit.

He sits on the opposite end of the couch and sips his tea. “You said something about someone with Thor?”

“Right. My dog, Daisy, is keeping him company.” I laugh when his brows pinch together. “He’s her absolute best friend. She follows him all around the house.”

“I see.”

“Sorry, I didn’t answer your question earlier.” I took a big gulp of my cooling tea and set it to the side. “Yes, I do talk to Heimdall. I’m the only one who he’s been able to contact since Thor crash landed a few months back.”

“Odd.” He leans forward and tilts his head to the side. “And how did you discover your magic?”

“My family has a history with magic. My father said an aunt of mine actually had magic and he kept a set of protection runes around in case we needed them. Heimdall theorized that my magic is the reason he was able to contact me and no one else.”

Loki hums. “I see.”

“Heimdall did what he could to teach me how to control it, but magic for me is, I don’t know…” I gesture vaguely. “Kind of just this amorphous blob?”

“Then how do you contain it?”

“How do you mean?”

“Magic isn’t just something that you call on whenever you please, it’s all around you. How do you contain it?”

“Oh, uh…” I shrug. “It’s always just there. I used to get really tired when I tried to cast something, but it’s gotten easier.”

“Explain.”

“I was pulled into some kind of pocket where I was able to see Heimdall. He and I were able to work together to make a kind of magic circuit in order for him and Thor to speak. I practically fainted when that happened, but in the weeks it took to find you I was fine by comparison.”

His jaw clenches, but he simply nods and sips at his tea.

We sit in silence while we finish our drinks. Loki wanders back upstairs to the bedroom he woke up in and I start on making the shepherd’s pie I had planned for dinner. Once it’s in the oven, I go back to my office and finish what I can of the work I had been pulled away from when Loki woke earlier.

The smell of baking cheese eventually draws Loki out into the stairwell and he creeps down to the kitchen when I tell him dinner was ready. He disappears into his room as soon as he clears his plate. While packing up leftovers, I consider leaving out a portion for Thor, but decide against it. If he didn’t wake up for dinner, chances are slim that he’ll wake up for it later. Instead, I put the leftovers in the fridge and go upstairs to get ready for bed.

About an hour later, I crawl into bed and Thor rolls over and wraps his arms around me. With my back against his chest, I grab his hand and kiss his knuckles before settling against him. Charles curls up against my stomach and I eventually doze off.

--------

Part 10

Alright, so we’ve got more Loki and, unintentionally, more questions than answers, probably. Sorry! Everything will be answered in due time, I promise.

That being said, I’d love to know what you thought of this chapter! Your feedback fuels my inspirations, which means more fic for you in the future, so comment, like, reblog, and/or shoot me an ask!

If you’d like to be tagged in future chapters, please let me know!

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[witcherarcanathings]

When You’re Gone - An Asra Lucio x Female Reader Angst part 3

Part One (Lemon), Part Two, Part Four, Part Five

(Okay so, the reason I took so long writing this is because I was projecting myself onto MC, and writing a story that was too similar to something I recently went through. I was having trouble completing the story line, because my own story was unresolved. So here you go.)

Second submission for The Terrifying Ten challenge posted by @vesuviannights​ 

Smut (under the cut), Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Asra could almost feel you slipping away from him as the days went by. But he couldn’t help it, he had to go. He thought you understood that.

It hurt him that he had to ask others about you just to find out how you were. You’d gotten upset with him before, but this was different.

Since that day at the fountain, he had sent several letters, and all of them had gone unanswered.

As a gentle wind blew across his soft white curls, he sat cross legged on the grassy mountain path several hundred leagues from Vesuvia and silenced himself sending his consciousness out to search for you. 

It took several moments before he saw you, your back turned to him as you gazed into the palace’s reflection pool. Although Asra longed to see your face, he daren’t get too close. He knew if you sensed him, you’d push him away again, and he couldn’t bear another rejection. Silently he watched you burning bits of paper and then scattering the ashes into the water. It only took him  a moment to realize what they were: his letters. Angry and upset he broke the connection, resolved to hurry home and make things right.

You spent your time at the palace burying yourself in work, attempting  to put Asra in the back of your mind. You thought the busier you are, the less time you have for your thoughts to drift to the smell of fresh brewed tea, flowers blooming in the sunlight, violet eyes and a warm smile welcoming you home after a long day.

“Shit,” you curse. You were doing it again. It was so easy to remember the parts of Asra you loved, and even easier to forget the parts of him that caused you so much grief.

With a bundle of his recent letters in your hand, you lay lazily along the reflection pool, burning each one as you read them. When the first one came, you were happy your heart thrumming with the possibility of his return only to be disappointed when you realized it wasn’t. 

More letters came, but you were still too angry to answer. Too hurt. 

Every so often couriers would arrive with messages from Asra. When you hadn’t responded, his letters increased.

“Love, I’m sorry. Please don’t be upset with me. I’ll be back soon.”

“ I hope your doing well. Faust says you’ve been working hard at the palace. Please take care of yourself.”

" The sunsets here are really beautiful here. They make me think of you.”

“Please answer my letters, dearest. I miss you.”

And the final,

“Please.”

The worst part of it was the guilt you felt at not answering. But you just couldn’t now. Deep down you believed you never would. 

Sitting in the garden, you burned his latest plea in the palm of your hand, scattering the ashes to the wind as you sat staring at one of the lilies in the reflecting pool, studying the dragonfly resting on the soft pink petals. The white marble felt cool against your skin as you sat with legs folded along the edge.

Lost in thought, you didn’t notice the sound of footsteps behind you, or the glint of a golden arm reflecting in the gentle waters.

“Still brooding over your master?” Lucio broke in as he leaned casually against a nearby column.

 You scatter the last bit of ashes out of your palm before turning to face him. “Is there something I can assist you with, Count?” you ask, your tone conveying that you’d wish to be left alone.

A charming grin graced Lucio’s face, his twinkling eyes meeting yours. “Help me? No my dear, sweet magician, I was thinking maybe I could help you.” he answered.

“I’d be interested in knowing how,” you retort,  a laugh catching in your throat. “The only way I’ve seen you solve problems is by throwing money at it.” It was a joke, but it did have some truth in it. Lucio had changed much since he’d made and broke his deal with the devil, but there were still parts of him that would always remain the same.

“Well in a way, that’s what I am doing,” he continued as he stepped closer to you. ”Starting with paying the five coin citation for throwing litter in my pool.” he teased, offering you his right arm to help you up. “And lastly, by giving you this.” He uncoils an invitation placing it before you. “There’ll be a party tonight. I’ll take your attendance as repayment for the fine.” he said smiling.

You’re up on your feet in an instant as he gives you a moment to smooth out your clothes.

“I think I’ll pay the 5 gold.” you quip.

Lucio’s throaty and genuine laughs fill your ears as his hand closed the invitation into your palm. “You’re always so funny, my dear,” He sighed, “Be there at 8 o’clock. Don’t be late.” there was a bit of urgency in that he quickly covered with a confident smile as he squeezed your arm.

“I won’t be.” You say, your tone a bit more serious than you meant it to be.

 “Don’t be so grim! It’s a party not, a death sentence.” Lucio coaxed.

“One never knows when it comes to your parties, Lucio.” you shrug as you glance at the ornate invitation.

“Oh you’ve got nothing to worry about, I swear you’ll have the time of your life! You might even meet someone new.” He winked before turning to leave you standing in the garden with the invitation in your hand. “See you at 8.”

Looking at the invitation, you noticed something curious. 

“Lucio,” you shake the invitation in the air. “This says seven!”

The count turns, his smile as wistful and mysterious as the answer he gives you. “I know.”

Confused, you watch his proud and confident gait as he walks away.

Lucio had been hunting you the moment he heard you and Asra were done with.

Well, that's not exactly how Portia had put it: during their weekly card game she had let slip that you two were going through some ‘issues’. Whatever that meant.  For Lucio he decided it meant that Asra was gone and now Lucio finally a shot with you.

Tonight's party was all a part of his elaborate plan to woo you. He had made sure the food, the music, everything would be to your liking.

As he dressed for the evening, he thought about exactly what he would say, what he would do to make sure you were his tonight. Sitting in front of his vanity with his legs crossed, he made sure his eyeliner was as sharp and dramatic, with just a bit of a silver dusting that you remarked at his last party really brought out the silver in his eyes. He’d worn it many times since then, hoping to catch your eye, but so far he’d hadn’t received further comment.

 He wanted his makeup to be perfect, for it to draw you into his eyes and never look away. Applying the finishing touches, he looked himself over appraisingly. There was no way you wouldn’t want a piece of him.

When you get to your room, there's several boxes on the bed, wrapped in gold foil and tied with red ribbons. You read the tag on the largest package, already knowing who it’s from. "Compliments of his highness count Lucio" 

Sighing you opened the box. Not only did you have to go to a party, you had to wear some faddy costume that was-

Your last thought was stolen away from you as push away the white tissue paper to reveal the most beautiful gown you've ever seen: midnight blue, with twinkling moons and stars. Lucio knew your tastes well. Smiling, you walked over to the mirror and pressed the dress against you, swaying as you imagine how you’d look tonight. Ah, it was stunning - just looking at it made you feel beautiful as the first flutterings of happiness radiate within you.

At seven o’clock you’re surrounded by glittering lights and elegant guests dressed up in their finest. Heads turned as you entered the ballroom. You’d gotten used to it by now, your appointment as royal magician gave you some status. It wasn’t unusual for you to garner attention. But you knew it was more than your court appointment that had them staring. No, it was the fact that as you crossed the ballroom floor you looked like the queen of heaven.

 It wasn’t long before you were asked to dance by a visiting dignitary, and as you dance you tried to forget the longing in your heart. As the music played your mind wandered, and your body moved with practiced steps and gentle nods as your partner blathered on about some important business deal before he asked ‘wouldn’t you like to come sailing on my yacht this weekend?” You shook your head no, bowing low to excuse yourself. You needed a drink. 

Leaning against the wall, you relaxed as you drank and watched the other guests. Normally, you wouldn’t mind one of Lucio’s parties. They were always wonderful, and to be honest you needed a break. But tonight, all the glitz and glam seemed to fall flat. Being a wallflower was more familiar to you, and you were glad hardly anyone noticed you. Everyone except the count. Although he hadn’t said a word to you the entire evening, he’d been watching. You looked exactly as he envisioned as you entered the ballroom. He watched as you initially looked around and got your bearings. When he saw you noticing the flowers, he smiled exactly when you did in the exact same way. He watched you ferret out an empty table to sit at before you were asked to dance. And then laughed when you rebuffed their advances. “Nice try pal, but she’s taken. I’ve got her all figured out.” He muttered to himself.  After your fourth dance partner, he watched as you quietly excused yourself and grabbed a drink. Now was his chance. “See to everything, will you Valerius? I’m going to check on our guest of honor.” he said with a tap to the Consul’s shoulder. 

Although you’ve stopped dancing, you find your heart racing the closer it gets to 8 o’clock.Your eyes occasionally look up at the large golden clock on the far side of the ballroom, and although it’s silly you can’t help but wonder why Lucio said he would see you at eight. He was there when you arrived, but something about the smile he gave you told you he was up to something.

Anticipation builds, and your heart continues to race until the clock strikes eight and you feel yourself releasing the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. 

But you soon learn that you relaxed too soon, as a cool metal arm slips into yours and you find yourself side by side with Lucio.

“Enjoying the party?” Lucio purrs. 

“Yes its-” 

“You don’t have to lie.” Lucio interrupts. “It’s Asra isn’t it? Pity even all this isn’t enough to distract you from your heartache.” He says waving an arm to the extravagant celebration going on around you.

You sighed in defeat, hoping that it wasn’t that obvious. “I’m sorry, Lucio. Everything’s wonderful and I’m glad I came it’s just-”

Lucio brought a finger to your lips to silence you.

“You don’t have to be sorry.” His low, wistful voice interrupted. “Don’t worry I have something else that might help.” He nods his head forward, and after giving him a skeptical look you let him lead you through the ballroom, curious as to what he had in mind.

With a straight backed, regal stride he guides you somewhat further away from the crowd to one of the ornate tapestries hanging along the ballroom walls. He takes a quick look around before peeling back the tapestry and motioning at you. “Come on, hurry up before anyone sees.” he urges, his golden arm gently ushering you in.

It’s dark but as your eyes adjust you can see you’re in an alcove behind the tapestry.

“So this is what you wanted to show me?” you scoff. “There’s nothing here but a blank wall.”

With an impish grin, Lucio leaned in to whisper in your ear. “No, pet. This is what I wanted to show you.”

Without warning his lips crash onto yours, teeth gnashing on teeth, a bit bloody as he bites your lip. His kiss leaves you gasping and breathless as he pulls you in, his tongue slipping into you mouth as your lips part.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll never think about that magician again,” Lucio growls.

And that’s what you want isn’t it? To finally forget? No more tea leaves, and the smell of rain or moonlit nights sprawled out on the rooftop.

Now it’s fire and soft fur, the sweet musky smell of roses in the summer sun, and the promise of living deliciously as your hands explore the smooth, superior muscles of his chest. Your fingers tangle in the golden curls as along his pectorals, as your own dress is pushed down to your waist, the shoulder of your dress now snug against your elbows as Lucio cups your breasts, rolling them beneath his coarse, practiced fingers as you keen into his every touch.

"Lucio...Lucio," you whisper as he ravishes your body, his feverish kisses covering your neck and chest, before his canines ghost around your areola, making you shiver. 

"You like that, doll?" He groans as his tongue circles your nipples.

"Y-Yes" your voice shakes while his deft tongue strokes over you again. The fingers of his flesh hand find his way to the folds of your sex, teasing you and touching everywhere except your aching clit.

Impatient, you push his hand to where you want him, but he holds firm, nipping your neck in warning. 

"Not yet, kitten. Daddy wants to play first." 

Teasing your entrance with his fingers Lucio chuckles at hearing needy whines leaving your lips. He slips one, and then two fingers in, growling low at the wetness slicking your thighs and the noises you make for him. Bracing his shoulders, you arch up into his touch,his fingers pumping into you as he devilishly ignores your aching clit. 

“Lucio, please…” You let out a deep frustrated moan,as you rock into his hand. 

“Shh…” Lucio whispers, “Try to stay quiet. At least until we’re alone.”

 He'd pictured making you come undone so many times, and he wanted to savor every moment as he studied your soft features. With your back pressed against the alcove and nothing but a tapestry keeping you from being seen you nod silently, biting your lip as Lucio curls his fingers into you and his thumb flicks across your clit.

“Touch me,” Lucio groans as he grinds against you, pushing you further against the wall. You can feel how hard he is as you palm him through his clothes, making him hiss. 

“Again Lucio," You breathe as you undo his pants, his proud cock presenting itself into your hands, “Tell me again.”

He begs you to touch him, before you start stroking his cock in time with the movements of his fingers inside you and watch him unravel under your touch. This way of making love was different from Asra’s - it was so fervent and needy. Lucio's whimpering, hips thrusting into your touch as you stroke him. “Good...it’s too good,” he growls, his lips never leaving yours. It doesn’t take long for his stuttering thrusts turn into raw unsteady breaths, and those breaths into muffled, masculine groans.

The noise of the party is just outside the rich purple and gold tapestry that created a secret world of passion under its shadow occupied by only you and your Count, his low, distinct voice a heady whisper in you ear.  

 "Please... please let me fuck you my beautiful Magician."

You open your legs in silent approval and with one quick movement he's inside of you. Humping away like a desperate animal. 

"Thank you thank you thank you," he whimpers as he fucks into you murmuring praises and sweet promises."so good, so beautiful."

"Lucio...please. more." You sigh arching up into him.

"Yes, pet. Anything you want. Always what you want" he groans as he fucks harder,

Moving his arms around your body, he brings you close to his chest. His hips slam into you, causing you to bite into his shoulder to muffle your cry at the feeling of his wide head hitting your g-spot. 

“I want you so much, you’re all I fucking think about.” 

He comes, silent and intense as your own orgasm finds you. 

Hurriedly Lucio pulls out of you, quickly helping you dress before arranging his own clothing.

"Follow me, quickly." He growls, his arm locking around your waist as he leads you both from under the tapestry and into the crowd of the ball room. You can only hope you've put your clothing back where it should be. You squeeze your inner muscles tightly when you feel his seed starting to slip out of you, and you blush at the lewdness of it.

Thankfully the bustle around the palace has died down and the corridors are silent as you both made your way to Lucio’s wing. His room was dark and cold when you entered it, and he cursed the servants for their superstitious nature. Although several years have passed since his return, the staff still feared entering his wing.

"Hold on Lucio, I've got it." With a flick of your wrist a roaring fire appears in the fireplace, and you smile in satisfaction.

A blur of white rushes you and in moments you're in Lucio’s bed, naked and breathless as he trails kisses over every inch of your skin. Making you writhe and moan on his fingers once more.

Smirking he removes his fingers, licking them clean while you whine disappointment. You are not empty for long. His cock is nudging at your entrance and you push back onto him, feeling the tip slip in.

“I’m the one giving you all you need. I want you to be mine.” he growls, “Forget Asra, Forget everything else except me.”

He slides into you, pressing a low purr out of you as he bottoms out. His eyes are focused on his length buried inside of you, as Lucio enjoys the mewl leaving your lips.

“Please…”

Gripping your waist Lucio starts moving. He’s sliding slowly in and out of you, letting you savor the feeling of his cock stretching your walls.  Nothing is rushed, but no time is wasted in his lovemaking. 

Hands fisting the sheets, mouth hanging open you cry out in pleasure when he starts dragging you onto his cock with every powerful thrust.  His golden claw digs into your hips, cutting into the skin as he claims you. It’s a slow and desperate burn as the two of you collide.

Lucio watches your reaction when he starts moving faster, going harder to make sure you will fall over the edge once more. He loves the way you lose control when you come, totally falling apart for him.

A lovely and breathless silence fills his chambers as the two of you lay in post coital bliss.

It lays unbroken until you feel him leaving the bed, and your heart sinks. Of course you’re just a one night stand. It was foolish to think any different.

“Please don’t...don’t leave.” Your hand reaches out for him, your eyes clouded with building tears.

You hear a quiet sigh as his fingers slip into yours. “I’m not going anywhere pet,” he soothes. “I’ll stay forever if that’s what you want. I just need to take this off before bed. I’ll tear up the sheets in my sleep if I don’t.”

With one practiced motion he removes his alchemical arm, placing it on the nightstand before returning to your side. With his right arm, he pulls you against his chest before you slide the covers over both of you.

Sleep finds you soft and warm as Lucio holds you. The last thing you see before you close your eyes is his gentle dreamy smile.

The morning afterwards, it feels strange waking up next to someone after spending nearly a month alone.

Even when he isn’t traveling, Asra's usually gone when you wake up--either downstairs working in the shop, trading in the marketplace, visiting the palace or just plain gone. The last time you remember waking up next to someone was your birthday. Asra stayed that day.

But Lucio didn't need a special reason to stay. You were it. "I'll stay forever if you want me to." You remember him saying. The words pulled at your soul, and it felt good even if it wasn't from the person you wanted it from. 

Your newfound desire for the count was a strange feeling that worried you. Suddenly you were panicking, and you began questioning yourself. ‘Oh gods,’ you whisper, careful not to wake the man sleeping next to you. 

 Silently, you slipped out of his bed, white silk sheets slipping away from you as your feet hit the marble floor. Dressing quickly, you stuck your head out the door to peek down the hallway. 

Thankful the coast was clear, and with one final look behind you, you leave-your steps brisk and light as you made your way down the hallway and back to your room, chest pounding as you wondered if last night was a good decision, searching for meaning in every act, every word that was said.

Thank you for reading, and as always your comments are always appreciated! 

P.S. Sorry I didn’t tag anyone who asked. Frankly I have no organizational skills, and my memory is terrible. Please forgive me.

[baby-grayson]

Kind Stranger|GBD|Part 9

Parts 1-8

Words: 3.6k

tw: fluff and angst? Tags: @dolanpornhub​ @styles-dolan​ @evergreendolan​ @someonetogray​ @vintagedolan​ @prettyboydolan​ @dolansficsandpics​ @graysavant​ @baby-turtles​ 

Grayson leaned back on a patch of grass, his body falling beneath him as he slumped on the ground. Ethan sat beside him, one arm draped over a bent knee and the other fidgeting with blades of grass. Ethan could swear Grayson hadn’t been this quiet since their father passed. Ethan struggled to comfort his brother, growing increasingly tired of dead ended conversations. Grayson had tried to call Kate at least once a day for the past five days: she never picked up. Ethan shepherded his brother between Zoom meetings, phone calls, and their various responsibilities while the shell of Grayson wallowed in heart break.

Grayson’s usually glimmering eyes were duller, like a light inside of his face had been put out. He had lost sleep, beginning the accumulation of heavy, dark bags under his eyes. The calluses on his hands were picked over and ripped up, his pass time during meetings. He and Ethan were preparing for Wakeheart’s candle launch, being persecuted on twitter for their podcast, and trying to maintain momentum for their Youtube channel. Grayson struggled to find focus, much less creative energy, since his fight with Kate.

This afternoon, Ethan invited Grayson longboarding in an attempt to get him out of their rental house, and hopefully out of his head. A few wipe outs later, the twins founded refuge on a patch of grass. The silence was deafening. Negative clouds ruled Grayson’s mind while Ethan tried to navigate around them to soothe his brother. “What did you do last time things weren’t so great?” Ethan probed, hoping to find the answer to Grayson’s dilemma. Grayson shrugged from where he laid on the ground. His eyes followed a cloud moving across the open sky above him. “We kinda---just …” Grayson exhaled, thinking about the happy times felt like a treacherous tap dance on his heart. “I went over. We kissed. I spent the night and it just went away..” Ethan’s jaw dropped softly as he cocked his head to the side. Grayson stayed focused on his favorite cloud and did not notice Ethan’s eyebrow raised. “Are you telling me you fucked it out of her?” Ethan could not veil the cutting tone in his voice. Grayson groaned. Her soft skin, her plumps lips, her whispy hair, her sweet, citrus scent..it all flooded back to him. Fuck. Fuck Ethan for making him think about this..about her..”No, we just got busy and happy and didn’t really think about it again.” Grayson’s eyes darted around, no longer able to locate his cloud. He clenched his eyes shut, trying to focus on the feeling of the ground beneath him when he added, “We haven’t had sex yet.”

Ethan’s head pushed back, his brother was always full of surprises. It both made all sense and no sense to him. Grayson usually practiced certain activities on a regular basis, soon after meeting women. Of course Grayson would have waited for the girl who actually meant something to him. Ethan exhaled, realizing the gravity of the situation. “You do know you can’t be a virgin until marriage if you’re not a virgin when you meet her, right? Do I need to explain that idea to you?” Grayson’s arms went limp against the grass. He exhaled through his nose, striking a twinge of pain in his sinuses. He did not try to mask the annoyance in his voice, “No, but you can explain what I need to do to get her back.” Grayson’s head throbbed in pain, his lack of sleep not serving him well. His eyes felt heavy. His body felt heavy. His soul felt heavy. He questioned where he went wrong. His heart twisted and turned between being hurt and wanting to hear an apologize but feeling the obligation to apologize himself. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling and asking himself if this was a preventable problem. He barely heard Ethan’s words of encouragement, telling him not to give up on her if she really meant something to him.

******* Kate opened her freezer to pull out one of many pints of ice cream. She dug a spoon out of the bottom of a kitchen drawer, not wanting to think about the pile of dishes sitting in her sink. She plopped down on her bed, opened her third pint of the day and continued playing the youtube video lighting up her laptop. Getting over a break up was hard—Was this a break up?—but it was made even harder when the object of your affection was plastered all over the internet. 

Over the past five days, Kate had consumed enough Dolan Twins content for a lifetime. She watched Grayson perform as a goofy teenager on TRL. She mused over him in the image of a Greek God at Paris Fashion Week. She cried over a scoop of chocolate ice cream while watching his tribute to his father. She laughed at the antics of a younger Grayson and Ethan. She admired the way his hair fell in front of his face. His wheezy laugh sounded like a song to her. His smile beamed through her heart and lit her soul on fire.

And suddenly, she remembered that she kicked Grayson out of her apartment and her heart. Occasionally, she would hold her phone when he called. She would let it ring, internally debating whether she knew what to say. Did she miss him in a deep place? Yes. Was she willing to forgive him for his double standard? For holding her to different rules? For trying to control the way she processed and celebrated their relationship? No. His phone calls extenuated the moot point.

She cursed his beautiful face when it appeared on her screen. She cursed the glittered gems embedded in his teeth. She cursed the watercolor tattoos on his legs. She cursed every ridge and curve of his bronzed, muscular body. Somehow, having a virtual Grayson in her company only made her feel more alone.

LA was a lonely place, especially when you moved during a pandemic. Kate missed Philly, the familiar sound of the subway and bustle of people in City Center. She missed walking through the universities, looking for food trucks in the afternoon. She missed not wondering if everyone she walked by on the street was an internet celebrity, post-career actor, or wanna-be sugar daddy. LA wasn’t home: LA was a lonely, abysmal place that separated Grayson Dolan from Kathleen Walker.

A hollow knock rapped across the front door. Kate sat straight up, not trusting her own ears. No one in LA knew where she lived…except—Kate shot up when the knock came again. She looked down at her bare thighs, the very tops of which were covered by an oversized t-shirt. A third knock jolted her off of her bed. She tossed her ice cream to the side and hurried to open the front door.

She turned the lock to expose a tall, muscular figure towering over her. His familiar hazel eyes seemed completely strange to her in that moment. He trimmed his hair since the last time she saw him, keeping it out of his face. His sharp jaw line nearly reflected the sun’s rays from outside her apartment. “What are you doing here Ethan?”

Ethan removed his hands from his pockets and bit his lip softly, “Can I come in? I was hoping we could talk.”

Kate opened the door further, letting Ethan stroll through the door. Ethan looked around, eyeing her sparsely filled apartment, decorated in IKEA furniture. Ethan stood awkwardly in the entryway, his eyes landing on Kate. “Do you want water? Or um—a snack maybe?” She hoped he wanted ice cream, because the only other thing she could offer was a slightly moldy head of lettuce. “No I’m fine,” Ethan hedged, burying his hands in his pockets. He looked at the floor and then back up at Kate, “I was hoping we could sit and maybe talk?” She lead him to an arm chair and sat across from him.

The air in the room was heavy. It’s not every day you are stuck in a room with your ex-boyfriend’s identical twin. Seeing Ethan’s face panged in Kate’s heart, she wanted desperately to see Grayson’s again. Ethan cleared his throat and leaned forward in the armchair. He exhaled softly before starting, “I wanted to talk to you about the Grayson thing. I don’t know how you’ve been dealing, but Grayson is a mess.” Ethan revealed, wondering where the line was drawn between being honest and depicting his twin as a pathetic, lovesick sack. “I don’t know how you’re feeling about him or what happened, but if you can – could you call him? Or talk to him? Give him maybe a little more closure than he has now?” Ethan’s voice was soft, and his eyes curved downward at the sides. His reverence and care for his brother filled the room in a gentle air.

Kate struggled to find words. She struggled to maintain eye contact with Ethan; looking at a creature so much like Grayson made her heart lurch whenever she focused on Ethan for too long. Her pupils bounced to the pile of dishes behind Ethan, to the traffic on the other side of the window, to her own feet, and then back to Ethan. Her mind went blank at the first time to talk about what happened out loud. Faithful to Grayson’s request, she hadn’t told her mom, her friends, or anyone really. For the past week, she had no one to comfort her. And now, Grayson’s brother sat in front of her, assuming she had already processed her emotions.

“I don’t know Ethan,” her voice stayed just above a whisper. “I don’t know what I can offer him.” She let out a breathy chuckle as she continued, “I almost feel like he should be giving me closure—if it’s ..ya know…case closed.” She shook her head, slumping her shoulders and letting her head fall between her knees. “I really like him Ethan,” she confessed, “I just don’t know if this whole…” she waved her hands in the air, waiting for a word to come to her, “—celebrity thing” she spoke it as if it was a curse word “is a world I want to be a part of.” She sat back against the armchair, holding her stare on the ground, “At least not the way he was handling it.”

“Grayson’s my partner: in everything we do. I would have never gotten this far without him, he’s the energy when we come together.” Ethan sat back against his own chair, his mind opening the flood gates for his words. “Our ideas, our projects, our pushes—those are all him. He constantly asks for us to be better, for me to be better. I owe so much of what we have to him, because I would have never been able to do it without him.” Kate’s heart lurched, remembering a similar conversation with Grayson about Ethan.

Ethan continued, “I was the one who was nervous about you in the beginning.” Kate’s head shot up from its slumped position, finally meeting Ethan’s gaze. Ethan swallowed and weighed his head before continuing, “I was concerned that you were maybe..I don’t know a gold digger? Or something like that and you were going to use him.” Kate’s eyebrows raised, staring at Ethan as if he had seven heads. “That was before I met you,” Ethan hedged “But I think I was the one who put the thought in Gray’s head to be extra careful about you two.”

“I didn’t know that,” Kate’s voice was just above a whisper. She wanted to melt into her armchair, disappearing from this scene. Her mind felt torn between blaming Ethan for Grayson’s behavior and decided that this was no excuse, Grayson was a grown man who made his own decisions. Kate’s eyes narrowed, trying to decipher her own thoughts. Ethan started again, “I just can’t stand thinking that I’m the reason for what Gray is feeling right now and—” Kate shook her quickly, “You’re not Ethan.” She leaned forward in her chair, resting her elbows on her knees and exhaling heavily. “I’m the reason for what your brother is feeling.” She opened her mouth, but feelings of confusion, guilt, and loneliness competed for the next word. Ethan beat her to it, “If you give him a chance, he won’t disappoint.” Ethan played with his fingers in his lap, looking up to meet her gaze, “My brother is a hopeless romantic who gets off on making the people he loves feel special.” Ethan shrugged and let go of his fingers.

A few moments later, Ethan stood from his armchair and thanked Kate for at least listening to him. She gave him a thin smile and nodded as he stepped toward the door. She closed the dead bolt behind him and stood there for a while. Her mind felt like a thousand horses were trying to pull her in different directions: toward Grayson, away from Grayson, into friendship with Grayson, back to Ethan with more questions. Her mind was a mess. She stepped back into her bedroom, finding that a dollop of melted ice cream has stained her sheets. She exhaled and threw her head back, cleaning her space begrudgingly.

She sat on the end of her stripped bed, phone in hand. Her hand felt heavy as her phone rang. Her heart beat throbbed into her temples. Her good leg shook softly against the edge of the bed. Her tongue went dry. “Hello?” His voice was so familiar. Her mind set off a fireworks show of internal curse words, her teeth nearly chattered in rhythm to the shiver down her spine. “Hey Gray,” she started without knowing where she wanted to finish, “I was hoping we could talk-but not like this—maybe we could pick a time or a place?” Her tongue felt like a brick, heavy and stiff against her lips that tried to remember to pass air through her lungs. “Y-yeah” Grayson’s tone wavered, trying to mask excitement and anxiety with something that sounded stable, “I’d like that.”

*******

“Thank you,” Kate smiled at her Uber driver as he pulled up the edge of the beach parking lot. She had considered walking to meet Grayson, but eventually decided that walking across LA, by herself, at 7PM was not a good idea. She left the car and started to fidget with the hem of her skirt, which was blowing in the ocean winds. The ocean breeze usually calmed her, but today it only ignited her flaming nerves even further. Her hair would not sit still, blowing in nearly every direction as she walked forward. She cursed to herself, not wanting to look like a mess to have this conversation with Grayson.

She stopped when she spotted him. He was waiting in his usual spot from when they met—his spot. He looked so elegant, his grand figure a silhouette against the sunset. Even in the shadows, his megawatt smile beamed at Kate. She bit her lip from across the beach, the hand on her purse clenched down. Every thought about the ocean breeze escaped her mind. Her knees shook slightly. How is it that one human being could elicit that kind of response out of another?

Kate’s hands cupped her face while her heart exploded, looking past Grayson for a moment. A few beach towels acted as a picnic blanket for a home made meal and a couple of Wakeheart candles. A stray napkin floated through the wind away from the setting. Two place settings were laying on the ground, ready for the two of them to sit together. Grayson grinned watching her face, hoping that maybe he could show her how serious he was about making her happy. Silently, he wished she would take her hands away from her face. Grayson desperately wanted to see her smile; his heart needed the confirmation that he was able to make her happy again.

The hands on her face were only one part of this scene teasing Grayson’s heart. The dark tendrils flying around her face called out to the day they met: making Grayson’s heart swell. The air around her was angelic, Grayson could make out the gold flecks in her brown eyes from where he stood. The sound of her voice as she approached him was like a song to him.

“Grayson—” hearing his name in her voice sent Grayson’s emotions into a romantic frenzy “—this is amazing.” She removed her hands from her mouth, revealing her kind smile and pink mouth. Grayson’s cheeks burned from grinning so hard, his happiness overtook any anxieties that had been clouding his mind. A deep part of his mind wondered if he had done enough practicing earlier, now that he was struggling for words. His elation took over any cerebral duties his mind would usually oversee, “I wanted to do something special for you, because you’re special to me.”

Grayson took her small, dainty, smooth hands in his large, rough, calloused ones. He squeezed her palms and looked down into her big, brown eyes. Kate bit her lip subtly, wondering how one man could be so many things at one time. Grayson took a breath before starting his semi-rehearsed speech. “I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry for hurting you, doing something to you that made you feel like I wasn’t proud of you. If anything, it’s the opposite. I’m so proud of you, the things you have preserved through in your life before you ever met me--..I don’t think I could do it.” Grayson gaped down at her, he swallowed while holding back sentences about her disability, career, and drive. “I just..I did something wrong. I should have been more open about who I am and what my life is like from the start. In truth, I didn’t think I had to me. I thought I was just a normal guy, who could meet a normal girl and have a great relationship.” He squeezed her palms warmly. “But I see now that maybe that’s not what this situation is. And to be honest, I don’t really know what that means. But I do know that you make my life better. You make my life so much better,” a stray tear sat on Grayson’s bottom lashes. His voice choked slightly, making Kate’s eyes widen as her entire expression softened. The sight of her garnered a stray tear on Grayson’s other lash line. “You make everything so much better. You make me think about what��s important, because so much of my life isn’t.” He made a noise that sounded like a sad chuckle, “I spend so much of my day worried about branding and images and posting schedules and comments—things that I barely have control over sometimes. But when I’m with you,” he squeezed her hands and pulled her in closer, “my life isn’t that. With you I’m happy, and I get to share simple things with you. I feel like someone is seeing me, for the first time in a long time, as just a guy.” One lone tear danced its way to his cheek while he finished, “I hate what I put you through, I hate how that other part of my life could have poisoned us…But I think we can make if you’re willing to talk things through with me because I want to keep you around for such a long time…I love you.”

Grayson’s heart felt like it was tiptoeing across a high wire above a pit of sharks. He felt like one word could change her answer. He gulped hard. Grayson Dolan had done many daring things in his life: blind folded sky diving, swimming with sharks,cliff jumping in foreign countries. And yet, no deed felt more daring than this. He admitted that his own life confused him, that the reality he thought existed was just his attempt at gripping onto normalcy: saying it out loud felt like a vice grip on his emotions.

Kate thumbed one of his hands gently in hers. She let go of one of his hands, causing Grayson’s mouth to gape slightly in fear. Grayson’s lips fell into a relaxed smile when she moved to cup his face in her hand, softly wiping at the ghostly trail left by the tear. She tried to find words, any words, but they weren’t coming. Her tongue was tied in a knot around her heart. Grayson instinctually moved his freehand around her waist, pulling her closer to him. He looked from her deep, bright eyes to her lips and back to her gorgeous gaze. Kate bit her lip, licking it softly before exhaling. Grayson drank in her sweet, citrus scent—only realizing now how comforting and soothing that scent had become for him.

The sound of the waves crashing against the shore boomed around them. Kate memorized his face in this moment, cherishing how the warm, sunset rays only illuminated his bronzed skin. The gold flecks in his eyes danced for her, begging for closure. His few freckles gave his face a boyish charm, decorating high cheek bones and a striking jawline.

A few grains of sand infiltrated Kate’s sandals, catalyzing a series of rough and jagged attacks on her soft skin. Kate’s mind raced in finding her next words, knowing that she could choose to give Grayson her whole heart or walk away from a future navigating the hurdles of his life. If it wasn’t for the pit growing in her heart, she would have chuckled at the irony of the moment. Here they were, almost embracing each other, almost crying for each other, almost surrendering themselves to each other: when just a few weeks earlier, they stood in that same spot as only a pair of kind strangers.

[marjansmarwani]

I’m sorry enough

[Read on Ao3]

Carlos can tell that TK is pulling away, he just can't figure out why. He follows his partner's advice and forces them to talk it out, but they both say things they regret and act on the anger and fear they both have. When the dust settles he's left wondering how they can put the pieces of them back together, or if they even can.

--

Day 6: “You deserve better” + Angst

Day 6 of @tarlosweek2020 and we are almost at the end! I’m excited about this one, but I am really excited about tomorrow. If you’ve been reading my stuff for a while, you might recognize it because it is a continuation of one of my older stories. Either way, I hope you enjoy it and this one! 

-----

The last of the victims had been loaded into the ambulance and the last of the statements had been taken when Carlos crossed the barricaded area to where TK stood, repacking the equipment used to free the woman who had been trapped in her car. He approached with a smile, and leaned against the side of the rig, “Hey you.”

 TK looked up and gave him a quick smile that was gone almost as soon as it had appeared, “hey.” 

 Carlos felt that little bit of dread in his chest start growing. He pushed it aside and refreshed his smile, making it bulletproof: “Are you free for dinner tonight? I feel like it’s been ages since we actually got to talk.”

 “I don’t know, I told my dad I’d help him with some stuff.” 

 “Please?” Carlos pressed, leaning closer, “You’ve been so busy lately I’ve hardly seen you. I miss your face.” 

 TK glanced at him and gave another small smile, this one so much more genuine than the one before. “Okay,” he agreed softly, “I’ll see you tonight.” 

 Carlos grinned and pushed off the side of the rig, planting a quick kiss on TK’s cheek as he passed him, “Come by my place at 8,” he instructed. Then, with a wave towards the rest of the crew he was off, heading back to Mya and their cruiser. He pulled open the passenger door and climbed in, ignoring her pointed look. When his partner made no move to turn on the car or look away, he turned to her with an exasperated expression. 

 “What?” 

 “You know what.”’ 

 “I do not know what.”

 “No,” she pressed,”you do.” 

 She kept looking at him until he groaned and turned in his seat to face her, “just say what you need to say so we can get out of here.” 

 “Something’s wrong - or at least, you think it is.” 

 “Nothing’s wrong,” he replied hastily, “we just haven’t seen a lot of each other lately, he’s been so busy and I miss him. What,” he added defensively, “am I not allowed to miss my boyfriend?” 

 She didn’t look convinced, but clearly knew him well enough to know that she wasn’t going to get anymore. With a resigned sigh, she started the car. Carlos was about to breathe a sigh of relief when she spoke again, “Whatever you think is wrong, you need to talk to him about. Waiting and assuming the worst isn’t going to solve anything.” 

 Carlos turned to look out the window, hiding his expression from his partner. “I know,” he said softly. There was quiet for another moment before Mya put the car in drive and they pulled away from the accident scene. 

--------- 

It was 8:01 and Carlos wasn’t pacing, really. It was probably nothing. It could be traffic, he could’ve lost track of time; it didn’t mean anything. 

 Try as he might he couldn't stop his mind from adding it to the growing list of evidence. All the evidence added up to the same thing and it was something that Carlos didn’t want to consider, not even for a moment. Not to mention the fact that it didn’t make any sense - there was no reason; at least not one Carlos could think of. 

 He needed TK to get here; he needed to know. 

 At 8:03, there was a knock on the door. Carlos pulled it open (with what he prayed was the appropriate level of eagerness) to reveal TK on the doorstep. He stepped aside with a smile to allow TK entrance. He did, stepping around Carlos, pausing only to give him a quick kiss. Once he was in Carlos shut the door and turned to look at TK. TK shifted uncomfortably, “What are you looking at?”

 “You,” Carlos answered honestly. “It’s been so long since we’ve actually had time to be together for more than a few minutes I had almost forgotten what you looked like.” 

 TK smiled and again Carlos couldn’t help but notice it didn’t go all the way to his eyes. The feeling of dread started to creep into his mind again, and he knew Mya was right. He had to say something. He couldn’t live with this doubt. 

 He waited until they were settled at the table, bowls of chili and a plate of cornbread before them. He waited until the lingering tension, the feeling of foreignness began to fade. Then, he took a deep breath and asked the question that had been nagging him for weeks: “Have you been avoiding me?” 

 TK starts, nearly dropping his spoon back into his bowl. He looks up at Carlos quickly, very much like a deer caught in the headlights. That was answer enough. Carlos swallowed before asking the important part: “Why?”

 TK was quiet for a few moments, studying his soup before he spoke again: “I was hoping that if I wasn’t around so much you might realize on your own.” 

 Carlos furrowed his brow as he gazed at TK, “Realize what?”

 “That you deserve better.” 

 The answering silence stretched as Carlos stared at TK, unsure of what to say, of what had just been said. A choked, “What?” is the only response he could muster. 

 “I was trying to back off, letting things end slowly when you finally realized that you deserve a whole lot better than me.”  

 Hearing it a second time didn’t make it make any more sense. Carlos stared at TK, who was resolutely anywhere but at Carlos. As the words sank in, a wave of anger that surprised him took over. 

 “Don’t I get a say in this? Or are you just going to make decisions for both of us without asking for my input?” 

 TK shrugged, “Why bother? It’s only a matter of time before you figure out what everybody else already knows.” 

 Carlos was fuming now. “So you think that you just get to make this decision unilaterally?” 

 “Simpled like the simplest, most painless way.” 

 “Too bad for you, I don’t agree.” 

 “And why is that Carlos?” TK asked, voice acidic, “you’re not done with your ‘saving the lost puppy’ story arc?”

 “No, because I love you and I think that at least entitles me to get some say in this! It is my life too, after all.”

 At his words, TK softens a bit. His voice is still firm though when he speaks again, “It’s for the best Carlos, for both of us.”

 Carlos is fuming. He can feel the blood rushing to his head; the pressure building inside his skull. “I’m so glad you’ve decided that, but you're wrong,” he spits out. TK tries to interrupt but Carlos barrels on: “Don’t I deserve the right to make my own choices?”

 TK is silent. They lock eyes and Carlos can see his answer there. He gets up from the table abruptly, “Fuck you. I deserve to decide what is good for me, not you.” 

 The kitchen is practically ringing with TK’s shocked silence. Carlos doesn’t lose his temper - Carlos never swears - not like that. 

 They stare at each other for a few more long moments. Vaguely Carlos notes that TK’s look is full of regret, shock, and something else that he can’t quite put his finger on. Not with his pulse pounding in his veins like this. 

 He needs to go; he can’t be here right now. He can’t look at him - he needs to be anywhere else but here. 

 Without a word he crosses the kitchen to the front door which he wrenches open, slamming it shut behind him. 

-------------- 

He walks. 

 He doesn’t know where; he is pretty sure he doesn’t have a specific destination in mind. He just needed to get away, get some air, take a breath. 

 He can’t remember the last time he had felt this much anger before. He thinks that the answer might be never. 

 He does know the last time he loved someone this much though - that answer is never too. 

 To have that just ended for no good reason, under the guise of it being all “for his own good”... didn’t sit well with him. As he walks he racks his mind, searching desperately for any time, any moment where he may have indicated that he didn’t love TK completely; any moment where he said that he loved TK with anything less than his whole heart. 

 He couldn’t think of any. 

 As he walks, his temper cools. He is able to think more coherently, to reflect. He’s still not sure exactly how they got here and as he walks, he begins to pull the pieces together in his mind. TK being distant, TK keeping himself at arm’s length. TK never saying anything, TK pulling away. That emotion that Carlos had seen clouding TK’s gaze more and more often that he had never fully been able to categorize. It was nothing he had ever seen before, not coming from TK. 

 He vaguely wonders how far he’s walked. He is looking around, trying to get his bearing when the realization finally hits him. He’s finally able to put a name to what he saw in TK’s eyes, in his expression that he hadn’t been able to put a name to. 

 It was fear. 

 Here he froze, coming to a halt as the horror of that realization washed over him. 

 TK was afraid. He was scared, and he was trying to protect himself. All the talks they had when they first got together; all the things TK admitted to him once he managed to convince him to open up came back to him. All the things TK had been through; all the struggles he still had. 

 He was scared. 

 And Carlos had been an ass. 

 He ran a hand down his face and sank down onto the curb. He should have known, should have been able to read the signs. He had been so blindsided, so angered at the idea that TK had been willing to throw them away that he hadn’t stopped to consider the why. Now that he had, he realized just how awful he had been; just how awful this was. 

 He hadn’t been fair in this. He had been scared (scared of losing this, scared of the end of something he thought might just last forever) and he had lashed out. Here they were - two people, terrified of being hurt; terrified of losing the people they loved - or terrified of being left. 

 What a pair they made. 

 He rested his elbows on his knees and put his weary face into his hands. This was a mess. From start to finish, it had been a disaster. From day one he had promised TK that he understood. He had encouraged him to open up; had encouraged him to share his thoughts and fears, his insecurities. 

 And then he had forgotten about them. 

 He had promised to be patient, to be there. Instead he had lashed out, and then left. He had even slammed the door behind him, he realized with a wince. He had made a fine mess of this. He would have to do a lot of work to salvage this (if there was anything left to be salvaged). They both would. 

 But even here; alone and worn, seated on the edge of a curb at god knows what time of night, Carlos had hope. He believed in this thing they had, and he was pretty sure TK did too. They would have to talk this out - there were many rational conversations to be had. But Carlos was ready to do the work, if TK was. 

 Then, he would be sure to make sure TK never said anything so foolish ever again. He deserved better - yeah right, Carlos scoffed to himself. He didn’t think it got a whole lot better than TK Strand. 

 He took a deep breath and pulled himself to his feet. He needed to get back - they had some work to do. He wasn’t letting this go without a fight. 

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

When Carlos opened his front door, he had been ready to enact part one of his action plan. Part one involved tracking down one errant boyfriend so they could have a talk. But when he turned the corner to his living room, he froze and a smile spread across his face. Step one may not be so crucial afterall, he noted. 

 He took another step forward, quietly so as not to wake TK, who was curled up on the corner of his couch and sleeping. Carlos allowed himself to take a breath - if TK was here, it meant that he didn’t want out quite as much as he had made it seem earlier. He walked closer, and sank onto the couch slowly, trying his best to avoid making unnecessary noise. 

 He didn’t want to wake TK, who found sleep so elusive that any sleep anywhere was precious. He leaned back onto the couch cushions and sighed wearily, studying the other man. His expression was furrowed even in sleep; tension was rolling off of him like waves. Carlos shifted again, trying to find a comfortable position and despite his best efforts, TK’s eyes shot open. He looked around for the source of the noise, and relaxed when he saw Carlos. 

 They looked at each other in the dim light leaking through the gap in the curtains from the streetlight out front. Their gazes conveyed a hundred things they both wanted to say, but it was TK who spoke first: “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, voice rough with sleep. 

 Carlos nodded, “I know. I’m sorry too.” 

 “I love you.” 

 “I know that too.” 

 It was quiet again; the only sound the distant chiming of a church bell marking the hour. It tolled twice and Carlos glanced at his watch in surprise. He had no idea it had gotten so late. He had no idea he had been gone that long. Suddenly TK’s fitful sleep and uncomfortable position made much more sense and Carlos felt guilt flaring up. He had been gone for hours, TK had to have been worried and not willing to leave until he knew Carlos was back home safe. He sighed and stood up, offering a hand to TK. 

 “Come on,” he said softly, “neither of us are going to get any real sleep on this couch.” 

TK looked from his outstretched hand to his face with a doubtful expression. Carlos leaned forward, taking one of TK’s hands in his own, “I’m serious, let’s go to bed.” 

 This talk could wait until tomorrow, he thought. They deserved some sleep. 

 TK nodded and allowed himself to be pulled upright and then led into the bedroom. He collapsed onto the bed and Carlos laid next to him. There was silence again and Carlos spoke, not even sure if TK was still awake enough to hear him. 

 “I love you too.” 

 “I know,” came TK’s response, soft but sure. 

 Carlos smiled to himself and rolled over so he was facing TK. He wrapped his arms around the other man and pulled him closer, breathing in his familiar scent. Yes, there would need to be discussions tomorrow, but for tonight those words would be enough. 

 Then, with the warm weight of the person he loved most in his arms, he drifted off into a peaceful sleep. 

[Ao3]

[shewritestheblues]

The Elevator Bae x Chapter 8

Chapter EIGHT

Erik x Black OC (Phoenix)

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

“I missed you so fucking much, baby girl.”

“I missed you too, E.” Phoenix huffed between words. Erik’s heavy figure above hers. His head rested in the crook of her neck as he placed wet kisses on her skin. She dug her fingertips into his back as he stroked her slow and deep. Her eyes stuck shut, moan trapped in her throat when she felt a vibration under her body. Where is this coming from?

Phoenix’s body jerked up and she looked around, realizing she was on her couch. It was dark out now and her tv screen paused with Netflix asking if she was still there. Her phone was ringing under her. That’s when it all hit her. She was dreaming. This was the third night in a row that dreamt of him. Three dreams, night after night of Erik doing all of the right things to her. Why is this happening to her?

Erik had been gone for ten days. The first few days, she poured herself into her work. She set up her equipment in her living room and did the best that could. remixing beats she already had and doing some writing. But has the days went on, she found herself thinking about Erik more and more. Thinking about how good he felt when she kissed him. Missing him, but she did everything but actually admit that to herself. She started watching Naruto because it was his favorite show, but she told herself it was because Netflix suggested it. She went out and bought two cases of Merinelli’s Apple Juice. But of course, not because he liked it, but because she ‘enjoyed the juice of apples.’ She told herself that he probably wasn’t even thinking about her. He’ll probably come back and not even bother talking to her again. Two weeks was more than enough time for him to realize that she wasn’t it and she should just prepare herself now, for it.

None of it worked, though she refused to accept the truth that she missed Erik. It ate her up inside that she couldn’t talk to him. He stayed in her mind constantly. She hated to like it.

“This is ridiculous.” She said to herself as she felt under her legs for her phone.

One missed call from Coby. She swiped the notification, selecting Call Back. When he answered, she could hear nothing but pure joy in his voice.

“PHILLY!” he yelled into the phone.

“Hey!” She pulled the phone away from her face and put it on speaker phone.

“My studio is done.”

Phoenix sat up, snatching the phone, bringing it closer to her face. “What! Say swear!”

“I swear. It’s finally done. You gotta come break it in.”

Coby had been working on building a studio in his home. Fully equipt. He promised that when it was done, she’d be the first person her called and she would be the first to record something in it. Before Phoenix could even express her excitement, Ava had taken over the phone call.

“Yeah, Philly. You might as well pack you a bag or three and come on.”

“A bag? Fuck she need a bag for?” Coby says.

“So she won’t have to leave. You know damn well y’all are about to be living in that damn room.”

“Bet!” Phoenix said. “I’m on my way.”

“Yay! We’re having a sleepover!” Ava yells into the phone. “See you when you get here.”

Phoenix ends the call. She rushes into her room to pack some clothes. She may or may not have packed enough to practically move in. She stuffed as much as she could in her giant Victoria Secret PINK duffle. Along with her face and hair products. She looked around to make sure she had everything. Her laptop was on the floor. She could NOT leave without that. She put it in her backpack with its charger and an extra phone charger and headed out the door. She texted Ava.

Phoenix: Be there in 20 minutes.

-------

Coby’s studio was her dream studio. It was huge. As soon as she walked in, purple lights glowed along the bottom of the soundproof glass that separated them from the recording booth. Coby turned on the lights that revealed all black decor and dark, hardwood floors. Phoenix walked in stroking her fingertips along the new equipment. Ava came in, sitting on the couch.

“You peep that?” Ava says, pointing to something inside of the recording booth. Phoenix goes inside to see. She looks up to see a huge black and white picture of her and Coby from when they were in the studio some time ago. One of Coby’s photographer friends had stopped by and took a few cool shots of them. Coby has the picture enlarged on a canvas and placed on the wall inside of the recording booth.

“Oh my gosh, Coby!” she grabbed his arms, shaking him.

Seeing her jump with joy, brought on the biggest smile that man has ever worn. “You like it?”

“I love it! What made you pick this one?”

“Well, we’re a team now, remember? I figured it was only right to put up a picture of me and my partner.”

“Aww… we haven’t come up with a cool name yet though.”

“We’ll figure that out in due time. But you like everything?”

“YES!”

Coby showed her around to look at everything that he had installed. Of course Phoenix’s favorite part was the fully stocked mini fridge and weed cabinet that held all of their smoking necessities. Phoenix wouldn’t be quiet about how proud of him she was. He had been working on this studio for months. He designed the entire thing himself.

They immediately got to work. Phoenix was so excited about the studio, and to be with her friends, she finally got her mind off of Erik… for now.  She was able to zone into her work. They created their first beat from scratch in the new space. Just as Ava had predicted, once Phoenix and Coby were in the studio, they were there for the rest of the night. After a few hours, Ava left them and went to bed. It was well into the next morning before the two of them had fallen asleep in the studio. They refused to leave.

--------

The next afternoon, Phoenix enjoyed a hot shower and co-washed her hair. She lotioned up with her favorite vanilla shea butter. She moisturized her hair and washed her face. She put on some sweatpants and a t-shirt. Just as she was applying some chapstick, Ava facetimes her.

“Morning!” Ava cheerfully says into the phone.

“Morning, love.”

“Get down here. I made food. I wanna see you before I leave out.”

“Where you goin’?” Phoenix says as she starts walking out of her chosen guest room to meet Ava and Coby down in the kitchen.

“I have a brand meeting.”

“Alright. I’m coming down the stairs.”

Ava ends the facetime call. Phoenix walks down the large staircase and through the hallway. She can see Coby sitting at the kitchen table. She joins him. They share a look before both breaking into smiles.

“You want eggs?” Ava asks Phoenix from the stove.

“Sure.”

Ava brings Phoenix a full plate of food. Phoenix pours herself some cranberry juice, mixing it with orange juice. Coby watches her mix the two drinks with furrowed brows. “Why do you that? That’s weird.”

“It’s delicious actually.” she takes a sip. “You should try it.”

“Nah, I’m good.”

The three of them sit and eat their food. Ava asked them about what they created in the studio and the way their faces lit up was enough to let her know they had a great session, breaking in the new studio. They played her the song they made. As the beat broke through the speaker, Phoenix’s voice rides the beat effortlessly. Ava squealed in excitement, hearing her friend singing.

Just me and you, nobody gon' break this up, this magic

My nigga, my babe, nobody comes before me and you

Numero uno, you know you my baby

What had these bitches off you lately?

“You sound so good!” Ava says. “You should drop this yourself.”

“I told her ass last night, that she should drop some music.” Coby adds.

Phoenix shakes her head. “Y’all crazy. Ain’t nobody trying to hear me sing.”

“You’re crazy! You telling me that you’ve never thought about releasing some of those songs you have locked away? You have a pretty voice, Philly. I think people would love you.”

“It’s crossed my mind, but I’m good.”

Ava rolled her eyes at her. Coby checks the time on his phone. “You better get out of here before you’re late. Traffic probably already crazy.” Ava takes one last sip of her drink. She gets up from the table, picking up her dishes and taking them to the sink.

“Don’t worry about those. I got it.” Coby says.

Ava leaves her dishes and starts out of the kitchen. “I’ll see y’all in a couple hours.”

Coby listened out to hear the front door open and close. As soon as he did, he looks at Phoenix. She’s so into her food, that she didn’t notice at first. When she did, she locked eyes with him and they stared at each other until one of them blinked first. Phoenix’s eyes couldn’t take it and she blinked. “Fuck!”

“I don’t know why you think you can beat me.”

“Nobody should be able to go that long without blinking. Something is wrong with you.”

Coby continues to stare at her as she eats. As he watches her, he notices that she checks her phone every few seconds. She’s not usually the type to be so caught up with her phone. She checks it again, this time, locking it and flipping it over.

“What’s up with you?” he asks.

“Hm? What are you talking about?”

“You keep checking your phone. You expecting a call or something?”

“No.” she says quickly.

Coby smirks. “You waiting on Erik to text you?”

Her face drops and she rolls her eyes, trying to avoid looking in his direction. “No. I was-- I was just checking the time.”

Coby notices the change in her demeanor and the protector in him activates. “What happened? That nigga do something?” His words came out slightly louder than how he was talking before. They were stern.

“No,” she waves him off. “Nothing happened. I haven’t even talked to him.”

“Why not?”

Phoenix looks at him in disbelief. She feels like she’s getting grilled by her Mom. “He’s away right now… for work.”

“And he can’t talk to you? What the fuck do he do?”

Phoenix isn’t getting out of this conversation so she surrenders and figures she’d just answer Coby’s questions. She sits her fork down and leaned back in her chair. “He’s in the Navy. He had to leave for two weeks.” she says, figuring it was the safest answer. She can’t be telling people he’s hired to take people out.

“Hm. When did he leave?”

“Last Tuesday.”

“You must have gave that nigga some good-bye pussy or something.”

“Wha-- No!”

“Then why you actin’ weird?” Coby tries to catch Phoenix’s eye to see if she’s lying. She avoids him by looking off at nothing in the kitchen.

“I’m not acting weird. You are. Asking me all of these damn questions.” she snapped.

“You are acting weird. I’m just trying to make sure you good and I don’t have to kill that nigga. I bring his name up and you get all tense and shit.”

Phoenix doesn’t respond. She looks down and picks at her fingers. Coby patiently waits for her to give him something. When she doesn’t, he tries to push a little more. Phoenix is good for keeping things locked in. But not on his watch.

“Aye,” she looks at him. “Talk to me. What’s the problem?”

She takes a deep breath. “I’m just… I don’t know.”

“Phoenix.” his voice was stern.

“I think I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?” Coby leaned onto the table, all ears.

“I- I can’t believe I’m about to tell you this.” He motioned for her to go on. “I’ve only ever been with one person and that clearly didn’t end well, and--  I don’t really want to allow someone to hurt me again.”

“That’s not fair Phoenix.”

“What’s not fair?”

“Erik ain’t your ex. It’s not fair to hold what that lame ass nigga did against him. You have to let that shit go.”

Phoenix looked away at nothing again. She knew he was right.

“Aye…” Coby tapped the table. Phoenix looks at him. “I’ma tell you this, but keep it between me and you.” Phoenix agrees with a nod. “My ex, she wasn’t shit. Fucked around on me with half the niggas in the industry. We were supposed to get married and everything but I called off all that shit when I found out what she was out here doing. Everybody knew but me.”

“Wait!” Phoenix interjected with wide eyes. “You were gonna get married, Coby?”

He kissed his teeth. “Yeah man. That was a few years ago and it has nothing to do with my point.”

Phoenix through her hands up in surrender.

“Anyways, as I was saying. I was done dirty but I didn’t let that shit stop me from going after Ava. I still found it in me to care about somebody. I treat her crazy ass like the queen that she is because that hurt shit is the past. Ava is my fresh start and clearly Erik is yours.”

“What makes you think that?”

“It’s all in  the music, Phoenix. I’m not stupid. I can always tell what you’re feeling based off what you write. You like Erik. Just let the shit happen.”

Phoenix nods. “I cannot believe you didn’t tell me you were engaged.” she says, trying to steer the conversation away from her and her alleged feelings for Erik.

Coby stands up from the table, picking up their plates. “Happened before I met you. Don’t like talking about it.”

He washed their plates and pans on the stove. Phoenix got up and started walking out. “I’ll be in the studio.”

-----------

The next few days, anxiety filled up in Phoenix. She counted the days down until Erik came back. She continued her stay at Coby’s with him and Ava to distract herself as much as she could. Erik’s return day came and went with no sign of him. He hadn’t texted her. She figured he would. But maybe he was tired and just wanted to rest. But when two more days passed and still no text from him, she figured she would take this ‘L’ like a champ and move on. She didn’t want to talk about it with Coby or Ava and she had lost her desire to make music. It would all be about Erik anyway. She didn’t want to do that to herself.

Phoenix stood over the bed in the guest room that she had rightfully deemed her room and packed up all of her stuff. Ava sat on the bed, watching her.

“You should just move in, Philly. Then we can all be together, all the time.” Ava says.

“You don’t even live here!” They hear Coby yell from his room, down the hall.

“Ain’t nobody even talking to you!” Ava yells back. Her and Phoenix share a look before laughing. “He be killing me, not minding his business.”

“But, speaking of you not living here. When was the last time you went home?” Phoenix asked.

Ava looked up to the ceiling in thought. “It’s been a couple weeks. I should probably go back though. I’m sure the food in my fridge is done for and I definitely need to wash some clothes.”

“Ew, A!” Phoenix laughs. She just shrugs. “Welp… I’m all packed up.”

Ava gives Phoenix a very dramatic sad face. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“Relax, love.” Phoenix places a petty hand on Ava’s shoulder. “A couple more weeks and we’ll be ass out on a beach.”

“Yes and then right after that… it’s your birthday.” Ava pokes her in her sides between words, tickling her.

“Stop! No need to be extra. It’s not that big of a deal.” Phoenix throws on her hoodie and slip her feet into her sneakers.

“You bet not say you don’t wanna do anything, because we’re doing something for your birthday.”

“Y’all can’t do it here!” Coby yells.

“SHUT UP!” “BE QUIET!” they yell back. Both rolling their eyes. Why was he listening so damn hard?

Phoenix goes down to Coby’s room where he’s playing 2k and she says her goodbyes to him. She tries to kiss him on the cheek and snaps back, away from her. “Gone with all that shit, Philly. Don’t you see I’m in a game?”

“This game can’t be that damn important if your ear hustling on what me and Ava talking about.”

“Nah, y’all niggas were loud. Which is why y’all need to get out my house.”

Ava storms into the room. “Fuck you! I ain’t going nowhere.” She smacks him in the back of the head, making him pause the game.

“Don’t be putting your little ass hands on me. You can get ya’ shit and leave with your friend.”

Ava leans down to his ear and whispers something to him that makes his eyebrows raise up into his hairline. He clears his throat. “You know what… you can stay, bae.” He looks to Phoenix, “I love you, Phoenix, but you have to go now. This was fun. It really was, but Ava will show you to the door.”

Phoenix is disgusted. “Y’all are gross. I’m out.” She turns on her heels, heading back into the guest room for her bags. Ava follows her downstairs and walks her out.

“Let me know when you get home, okay?” Ava gives Phoenix one of those long, auntie hugs. Back rubs and all.

-----

Phoenix sat at a red light when her phone started ringing over the speakers. When she looked to see who it was, she almost choked on her spit. It was Erik. He was facetiming her. He’s never actually called her before, let alone facetime. They only talked in person or text. Her palms become sweaty at a new record speed. She wiped her hand on her hoodie and hit the green button to answer. The street lights lit her face up enough for him to see her. She looked down into the phone to see his face almost covered with a hoodie over his head.

“Hey.” his voice was deep and raspy.

“Hey.”

The light turns green and Phoenix drives off, quickly looking away from the phone on the mount. He just watched her for a moment as she focused on the road and traffic. “You going somewhere?” he finally asked.

“I’m on my way home. Just left Coby’s.”

“Oh.”

She could tell he wanted to say something more than just ‘Oh.’ As she came to a stop at another red light, she focused her attention back to the phone. “What’s up, Erik?” her tone came out frustrated. He’s been back for days now and he hadn’t texted her at all. He randomly facetimes her and barely has anything to say. She was definitely annoyed with how this was going right about now. He could sense her frustration.

“Can I see you?”

“Sure.”

“How far are you from here?”

She drives off once again. “Like ten minutes.”

“Alright.” There’s movement on his end of the phone. “I’ll wait for you in the garage. See you when you get here.”

“Um… okay.”

The call ends and Phoenix is every bit of confused as to how she should take this. He hasn’t talked to her and now he wants to see her. What the fuck was happening right now?

She arrived in the parking garage of her apartment and Erik is waiting, standing outside his car. She decided to leave her bags in her backseat and gets out to go to him. As she approaches him, he motions to the car, opening the passenger door. “Ride with me somewhere.” Phoenix very hesitantly gets into his car. He gets in and drives off. The ride was silent. He was distant. Not the Erik she had become use to. He was so closed off and she wanted to ask, but didn’t really know how. She didn’t know what to say. She just rode. She laid back into the seat and just looked out the window. The car ride wasn’t long. They pulled into a parking lot and as Phoenix searched around, looking out of the windows, she realized they were at the beach. There weren't many people out. Just a few bodies walking around. Erik turned the car off and opens his door to get out. Phoenix follows. He spares her a look and starts walking onto the sand, toward an empty picnic table. Phoenix doesn’t follow him immediately. She watches him walk and takes note of the slight dip when he takes a step. He turns looking for her and expecting her to be right behind him. When she’s not,  he stops to wait. She slowly begins her journey to him. When she approaches him, he takes her hand in his and guides her the rest of the way to the picnic table. Erik steps up onto the table, sitting on the top of it. He leaves just enough room between his legs for Phoenix to sit. He pulls her up on the reserved seat. As she settles into her place between his thighs, he wraps his arms around her torso and rests his face on her shoulder.

Silence.

Neither of them talk. They sit. The moon’s light sits on top of the water before them and faint sounds of the city in the distance. The few people roaming the beach had left, leaving just them with one another. Phoenix listened to Erik’s steady breath in her right ear and the sounds of small waves in the left. She felt calm. The slight irritation she had with Erik had subsided.

The late night breeze flowed right off of the water and a shiver crept up Phoenix’s spine. Erik felt her shake and wrapped his arms around her body completely, holding her tighter.

“Better?” his baritone voice spoke low in her ear.

“Mhmm.” she rested her head back on him.

“I missed you.” he whispered.

Without thinking, Phoenix’s words flew from her mouth. “Then why didn’t you text me?”

“I just needed some space… some time to decompress or whatever.”

“I get that. I just would like to know that you’re okay.”

“I’m sorry. Not really used to having to check in with anybody.”

Phoenix lifted her body from his and turns to look at him. “Well, you don’t have to check in with me then.” she snapped.

Erik sighs. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’ll let you know next time.”

“Nah, you don’t have to worry about it.” she faces forward but folds her body into her lap. Erik pulls her back to him. She resisted at first but eventually submitted. Resting her body against his chest again. She felt defeated. He wrapped his arms around her again, placing his face in her neck. He doesn’t do anything. He just lays there, lips barely grazing her skin. Phoenix silently prayed he’d move, though she wanted him to stay.

“It won’t happen again. I’m sorry.” he said into her neck.

She took in a deep breath. Coby’s words popping up in her mind. ‘Let that shit go. Let Erik be your fresh start.’  

“I missed you too, Erik.”

His lips pressed firmly on her neck then. Her body melted more into his.

“Why are you so understanding?” he asked.

She shrugs. “It’s just who I am, I guess.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Why would you say that?”

He lifts his head, looking out at the water. Phoenix’s head falls back onto his chest. His grip around her loosens. “I’m no good for you. You’re too much of a good person for a nigga like me. I do terrible shit and you still find a way to be understanding about it.”

“...Erik.”

“Everything I touch dies, Phoenix. I don’t wanna ruin your life.”

“Shut up, Erik.”

“Phoenix--” She cuts him off and turns to face him again. She pulls the strings on his hoodie and moves her face closer to his. They’re eye to eye.

“I’m a grown ass woman. I make my own decisions, so if you ruin my life, it’ll be because I let you. I’m not scared of none of that shit you’re talking. I had my chance to cut you off when you told me that you’re basically an assassin. You mark your body for every fucking kill Erik. I tried counting them damn scars on your arms and I lost count… three times,” She dramatically throws up three fingers. “I’m understanding because I know what it’s like to only have yourself. I’m understanding because somebody has to be. Somebody has to be a safe space for you.”

Her words hit him right in the chest. Somebody has to be. Nobody had ever tried to be understanding of him. Nobody wanted to be and here this girl is, wanting to be that somebody. He felt a sense of safety with her that he couldn’t explain before and this confirmed everything he was feeling. This woman was special and the only explanation for how he got so lucky was that Bast herself, sent her to him. If that’s what Erik had to tell himself to accept what Phoenix was offering, he would. All Erik could do in this moment was smile. He hadn’t smiled once in the weeks he’d been gone.

Phoenix clutched her pearls. “Erik Stevens without his gold caps? Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Shut up.” He grabbed her face, squeezing her cheeks and connecting his lips with hers. He needed to do this. He wanted to since she met him in the parking garage. The kiss turned hot, very quickly. The smacking of their lips seem to quiet out the sounds of the waves hitting the shore. Phoenix gripped his hoodie, pulling him closer. Their awkward position making it hard to do so. She lifted her body from between his legs and straddled his lap. She didn’t miss a beat. Their lips never parted. Erik’s hands gripped her ass, holding her in place above him. Just as Phoenix sucked on his bottom lip, he pulled back.

“Fuck, girl.” he shakes his head, trying to come back to reality. Erik has kissed many, and I mean MANY of women. But none of them felt like this. She made him want her in every way possible. He wasn’t used to this feeling. But, Phoenix has a history of making him feel things he’s not used to feeling. Like, well… feelings. Erik never wanted to just be with someone just to be with them. If it wasn’t about sex, he didn’t care. But, Phoenix… he wanted to sit next to her, talk to her, hold her hand, watch tv with her. The simple things.  

“What I do?” she grinned.

“I want you so fucking bad.” the lust in his voice sent heat to her lady parts. She wanted him too. “But… if I’m gonna do this, I have to do it right.”

“What do you mean?”

“I would love to bend yo’ ass over this table right now and just…” He thrusted his body up into hers. Her mouth dropped in shock. He laughed at her reaction. “But, I wanna do right by you. I wanna take you out. I wanna show you a good time first.”

“You wanna court me, Stevens?” she smiles, linking her hands around his neck.

“Yeah. All that shit.”

“Damnn, okay. A bitch ain’t never had that before.” she says in her hoodrat voice.

“Me neither.” He laughed at her and pulled her back in for a few more pecks on the lips.

They continued to sit in this position. Phoenix laid on his shoulder and he rested his face in her neck, still gripping on to her thighs. She rubbed the back of his neck. They sat quietly with the sounds of the night traveled around them.

“E,” she whispered. He moaned in response. “Why the beach? What made you wanna come here?”

“I like to come here to clear my mind.”

“I’m enjoying this. I really am. But, I’m cold.”

His body bounced under hers as he laughed. “Well, I’m good now so we can go.”

Phoenix stands. Erik moves to stand up but pauses and sits back down. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

He drops his head in laughter. “Oh my God, man.”

“What!”

He slowly stands up and his erection is VERY visible through his light grey joggers. Phoenix’s mouth drops and she laughs. She knew he was big from when he chilled with her at her place and she breifly sat on his lap, but seeing this nigga print in these pants, let her know she slightly underestimated him. “And I Oop…” They both leaned over in laughter. Phoenix’s funny reaction was simply a way to stir her brain from the many questions she wanted to ask herself. Was she able to handle that? Ya’ know… when the time came? How big was this nigga? Has he murdered anybody by dick in his past? But she’ll tackle that one later. They were okay. Things were normal.

Erik readjusted himself and they walked back to his car. The ride back to their apartment was different than the ride to the beach. Phoenix connected her phone to his car’s bluetooth and played her music. The air was lighter on their drive. Erik’s hand found its place on her thigh and they both sung along to the songs that played.

-----------

Phoenix and Erik picked up right where they left off. He texted her every morning and they’d text through the entire day, ending the day with a facetime call. The nights she’d be up and in the studio, they’d text until he fell asleep, only to facetime him when she made it in and they’d both sleep with the other on screen until their phones died. It was like they were teenagers again. The butterflies, the cute text. They enjoyed each other.

——-

Phoenix was currently standing in her hallway, locking her door. Before making her way to the elevator she texted Erik.

Phoenix: What’s your code?

She was feeling bits of nervousness. This would be her first time going up to Erik’s apartment. The couple of weeks that Erik had been back seem to have flown by and  her vacation with her girls was coming up quick, Erik told Phoenix he wanted to see her before she left. They haven’t seen much of each other since he’s been back with her schedule being hectic. Phoenix had a lot of work and meetings to get through before her trip. She wanted to enjoy her vacation without any work related distractions. Her and Coby had been working tirelessly so the only time she could really see Erik was on their nightly FaceTime calls. He’d always miss her on the elevators.

Erik: 8176.

She pressed the elevator call button.

Phoenix: Great. My goons will be up in a minute to rob your ass.

Erik: Play with me if you want to. I’ll drop you and them niggas.

Phoenix: you wouldn’t do that to me. You would miss me too much.

Erik: maybe I would. Maybe I wouldn’t.

DING! The elevator doors opened and Phoenix stepped on. She typed in his code to enter the Penthouse floors. 8..1..7..6. The twelfth floor light lit up and the doors began to close. She texted Erik back.

Phoenix: I’m not coming up then.

Erik: stop playing baby girl. You know I would miss you.

Erik: I miss you right now.

Phoenix sticks her tongue out, blushing. She locks her screen. The closer she got to his floor, the tighter the knot in her stomach. She could feel her hands getting hot. She tried taking some deep breaths. The cabin stopped and the doors opened. She stepped out and looked to her left and to her right. There was an apartment door in both directions. Erik didn’t mention which direction his door would be. She unlocked her phone, calling Erik.

“Hey baby girl. Where you at?”

“Um, I’m in the hallway. You never told me if your door is to the left or right of the elevators.”

“Oh shit. My bad. The right.”

Phoenix goes right and the door begins to open. Erik steps out with a smile sitting beautifully on his face. He made Nike shirts look like the most exquisite shirts on the market. His dreads were pulled up into a pineapple. The smell of seasoned chicken flowed out into the hallway meeting Phoenix as she greeted him with a hug. He steps aside, letting her in. First glance and Phoenix was stunned. The sleek and modern black and gold decor was designed perfectly. The high ceilings and floor to ceiling glass windows gave the most amazing view of the city. She walked in, looking around, noticing the African Art along the walls.

“Ohhhh, he got moneyyy!”

“Would you like a tour?”

She whipped her head around to him. “Yes, actually. I would.”

“C’mon.”

She follows him as he leads her more into his penthouse. They walk through his huge living room where he has the largest sectional couch that Phoenix has ever seen. It looked so comfy and she couldn’t wait to get lost in it. A 90” tv set on a stand in front of it.

“Full bar over there.” he points to underneath the stairs. “Dining area. Kitchen.” He takes her hand and leads her past the kitchen into a hallway. There are two doors to right. The first is a guest bathroom. The second door is a guest bedroom.

“Damn, Stevens! Your guest room is bigger than my living room. Go off with your rich ass.”

“You’re silly, baby girl. C’mon, we’re going upstairs.”

They make their way back into the main area to go upstairs. She follows him up and notices his pants hanging low on his waist. This nigga has cake.

“Damn, you kinda thick, E.” she pats him. He stops mid step and turns to give her the straightest face.

“Don’t do that shit again.”

She puts her hands up in surrender. “My bad big booty E.”

“Chill.” They continue their trip up the stairs and the space before them was big enough to be another living room. There were some workout equipment, neatly stacked against the wall.

“Oh this is where you be growing ya’ cheeks at.”

“Phoenix, you got one more time to mention my ass before I put you out.”

“Alright, alright. I’m done.” she smirks at him.

He takes her through some sliding doors that lead to his bedroom. The walls were white with a dark grey accent wall behind his bed. A TV was up on the wall between his large windows. The shades were down, blocking out the cities lights. His california king bed dressed in black and purple. A large black panther picture hung on the wall.

“I have an idea, E.” Phoenix says, rubbing her chin.

“What’s that?”

“I move into this room and you take the one downstairs.”

“You sound crazy. You could just join me in this one.” he winks at her.

“Nope. I need all of this to myself.”

“Nah. I come with it. All or nothing. If you don’t like it, you can stay in your shoebox downstairs.”

Phoenix’s mouth drops and she clutches her chest. “First of all, I love my shoebox.”

He wraps his arm around her shoulders. “C’mon, we’re almost done with the tour.”

She walks with him to the other side of his room and through another set of sliding doors. They step into his master bathroom. His shower had three shower heads and a bench. The tub sat in front of a large window and another tv was on the wall in front of it. “I’m sold. I might have to take you up on your offer now.”

“Oh now you want me?”

“Technically,” she put a finger up. “I never said that I didn’t.”

“You’re something else.” He walks out and she follows him. Right outside the bathroom’s doors was a small hallway that lead into his closet. He turned on the lights, revealing his amazing collection of clothes, sneakers, jackets, and a jewelry case full of chains and watches and few pair of earrings. Straight ahead was a large mirror. Phoenix walked right passed his clothes. Fuck his clothes honestly. The white light in the closet made for good lighting and the mirror called her to take the perfect picture.

“OH! It’s picture time.” She pulled out her phone, snapping a full cute pics, catching her body at all of the right angles. As she tried to get a new position, she noticed Erik leaning against the wall behind her. She hadn’t realized that he was visible in her pictures before. She stopped and looked at him.

“What?” he was lost as to why she was giving him the stink look.

“Get out my picture.”

He rolled his eyes, stepping out of her camera’s view. She snapped a few more pictures.

“Are you done?” he called out. She walks back to him.

“Yes. All done. Thanks.”

He turns off the lights and they both leave out of his room. As they walked toward the stairs, he points to a door on the other side, “That’s my office. I’m redoing it right now so it’s a mess in there.”

They go downstairs and into the kitchen where the food Erik had cooked sat on the stove. He made stuffed chicken, cheesy, garlic potatoes and grilled asparagus. Phoenix sat in the wooden barstool at the kitchen island as he prepared their plates.

“Red or White?” he asked without turning around.

“Hmm, white.”

Erik placed two plates of food on the counter in front of her. He grabbed two wine glasses from a cabinet, placing one in front of her. “You’re a sweet kind of woman aren’t you?”

“Yes. How did you know?”

“Lucky guess.” He walks away out of her sight. When he comes back, he has a bottle of Moscato. He effortlessly pops the cork and pours into their glasses. He takes his seat next to her, pulling her seat closer to him. He grabbed her chin, bringing their faces just a breath from each other. He licks his lips and places a peck on hers, making a small closed mouth smirk appear on hers. “Eat up, baby girl.”

Phoenix pulled away from him. “You don’t tell me what to do, Stevens.” She picks up her fork and starts eating. He watches her with prey like eyes.

“We’ll see about that.” he finally says with a low tone before digging into his food.

As they enjoyed their meal, they talked about random things. How they’re sick of the construction outside of their building. Phoenix has a hair appointment the next day. Nothing major. Well about halfway through dinner, the conversation shifted.

“So,” Erik sat his fork down. “Your birthday is coming up. You and your crew planning something?”

Phoenix sipped her wine. “My crew? No. This vacation is enough for me. I don’t wanna do anything really.”

“I thought the trip was Camrens’s birthday gift?”

“It is. But, I don’t know, it’s right before mine so I’m okay with just that.”

“Why?” He was watching the side of her face.

“Not really a birthday person.”

“I’ve never met a woman that wasn’t a birthday person.”

She finally looks at him. “I mean, as a kid, I was. But the older I got, it just seemed so… extra. I would only do something because my brother wanted to.”

“Brother?!” Erik’s eyebrows raised high. “You have a brother?”

Phoenix rolls her eyes. “Yeah. A twin, actually. Zion.”

“You’ve never mentioned having a brother.”

“Because…” she takes a sip. “We don’t talk. He don’t fuck with me and I don’t fuck with him.” Her demeanor changed. Phoenix is tense now. She clenches and unclenches her jaw and the slight eye rolls as she talks let Erik know that her brother is a trigger. He waited patiently for her to figure out her words before she continued. “I don’t hate him. I just-- I don’t know.”

Erik turns his body to face her and let her know that she has his full attention. “You don’t have to talk about it.” She cups her glass with both hands, slowly taking sips. There’s a beat of silence.

“I’m here.” She began. Her voice small. “I’m living a decent life, doing what I love to do and he’s not.” she shrugs. “He hates me for that.”

“Hate is a strong word.”

“He hates me, E. He said it. He’s convinced himself that I just have hella money and because I won’t move him out here and pay his way through school or fund any of his ideas, I’m not a good sister. He’s the only boy in the family, so everybody has always babied his big ass. I’m not doing that. I’ve worked hard. I’ve earned everything that I have. He can do the same.”

“I understand that. Ain’t shit free.”

She looks at him in disbelief. Everyone (her family and old friends from back home) felt like she was being too harsh on her brother for wanting him to put in some kind of work. They had always just given him what he wanted, no matter the cost. Phoenix had worked for everything. She had a job at 16 while her brother did whatever he wanted. He was given his first car from an uncle while Phoenix saved up her money to get herself one. That same car she saved up for is the same car that she drove to California. Everyone excused her brother actions because he was just a free spirit. Phoenix was too but she still had some discipline.

“Why you look at me like that?” Erik asked.

“Because… you’re the first person to actually agree with me.”

“Hell yeah, I agree with you! That nigga better get a damn job.” That made her laugh. “Phoenix and Zion though. Interesting names for twins.”

“Our names were gonna be Zues and Megara since Hercules was my mama’s favorite movie.” Erik burst into laughter. “Thank God my grandma threw a bible at her ass and put a stop to that.” Phoenix joined in on the laughing.

Erik wiped a tear from his eyes, his laughter calming down. “Oh man. Speaking of names though. Can I tell you a secret?”

“Let me guess, Erik isn’t your real name or something?” she says, jokingly. Erik just looks at her, eyebrows raised. His silence answering his question. She slams her hand on the counter. “ERIK ISN’T YOUR REAL NAME?” she starts to raise up from the barstool. “Oh, fuck this. I’m out.”

Erik stops her, grabbing her arm. “Hold up. Hold up.” she snatches her arm from his hold. “Hear me out.” she motions for him to continue. “Technically, Erik is my name, but I also have my Wakandian name.”

“You better not be fucking with me.”

“I’m dead serious. I’m Erik Stevens but my real name is N’Jadaka.”

Phoenix takes a deep breath, staring at him like he has three heads. A whole minute passed with her just looking at him.  “I need more wine.” she finally says.

“Nah,” Erik stands, taking Phoenix’s hand, “ I know what you need.

Some dick! Her brain screamed at her. “What’s that?”

She followed him to the couch. He turned on the tv and picked up a blunt from the coffee table. They lean into each other, shoulder to shoulder as Erik lights the blunt, taking two drags of it and passing it to Phoenix. She takes a hit, holding in the smoke longer than she needed and slowly blowing it out. They passed the blunt back and forth until it was gone. They settled into the couch as Naruto played on the tv. Phoenix had come clean during one of their late night facetime calls that she started watching the show while he was gone and that she really liked it. They agreed to watch it together and here they were. As their highs hit them more, Erik dimmed the lights in the living room and got comfortable laying on Phoenix’s lap. They remained in this position until Phoenix’s legs were numb. She repositioned herself under him to lay fully on her back and he placed his body over hers, resting his head on stomach. He was heavy but she liked it. She wanted him to stay there forever.

Phoenix had been absentmindedly playing in Erik’s locs for an entire episode. When she realized what she was doing, she stopped. His hand came out of nowhere and placed her hand back in his hair. She giggled and continued rubbing his scalp again. She looked down at him and noticed that his eyes were closed. This man was falling asleep.

“Erik…” she called him softly.

“Hm.” he moaned.

“Are you sleep?”

“I’m resting my eyes.” his voice was low and raspy. He was definitely asleep. Phoenix waited a couple minutes before calling his name again, but this time she didn’t receive a response. She pulled out her phone, opening her front camera and took a picture of them. Erik’s face buried in her stomach and her fingers, tangled in his locs. She then opened her Instagram, swiping to make a story. A boomerang of course. She made one with the caption ‘Niggas be like, I’m just resting my eyes.’ She posted it and sat her phone down on the floor. She was pretty tired herself but the truth is, she didn’t want to leave. She wanted to stay right here, under him. So she did.

--------

Erik naturally woke up a little after  7am. He wanted to lay with Phoenix longer but his body was so used to waking up early, he knew he had to just get up. As soon as he moved from off of her, she curled up into the fetal position. He grabbed a blanket, placing it over Phoenix’s now balled up body. He stood over her, admiring how peaceful she looked while sleep. He then headed upstairs into his bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face. He changed into some compression pants and basketball shorts. He remained shirtless and went out to his workout area and began his at home workout.

An hour later, he was sweaty and tired. He checked over the railing to see Phoenix still asleep. She was still balled up in the same spot. He laughed to himself remembering that she never wakes up before noon. He goes back into his bathroom to shower and change into some fresh clothes. He left his locs to lay wildly over his face and came back downstairs to clean up last night’s dishes. The clanking of the dishes and ruffles of the dishwasher still didn’t get Phoenix to wake up. She was a hard sleeper. The opposite of Erik. Maybe it was his Navy training, but Erik could hear wind shift directions in his sleep. It was still early, just after 10. He’s let her sleep in some more.

He sat near her on the couch to watch some tv and lazily scrolled through his phone. He opened the Instagram app and the first thing he noticed was Phoenix’s profile picture at the top of his screen, glowing pink. He tapped it and the boomerang of them played over and over. He looked at her from the corner of his eye. He did everything he could to conceal the grin that threatened to appear on his face as if someone was watching. He watched it more times than he would care to admit. Phoenix began to stir in her sleep. One of her feet poked out from under the blanket. Her sock was missing and her neon pink toes struggled to find shelter under his thigh. He picked up her foot, setting it on his lap and started massaging her foot. He did this while watching tv until his fingers were tired.

It was approaching noon and Phoenix still hadn’t budged. She had a hair appointment in a few hours and Erik knew it was time to wake her. He softly shook her leg, calling her name.

“Philly. C’mon, baby girl. Get up.”

“Hm?” she moaning from under the blanket.

“Get up.”

He had to shake her a little harder for her to actually wake up. She sat up, stretching her arms over her head. She looked disheveled-- her hair were all over her head, she looked confused about where she was and she was missing a sock.

“Morning, baby girl.” He sat back, rubbing her unsocked foot again.

“Morning.” she yawned. She stared blankly ahead, trying to process that she’s awake now. The fresh scent of his body lotion traveled under her nose and she looked at him, taking in the fact that he was fully dressed and looked damn good.

“You smell good.” her tired voice rung out.

“Thank you.”

“How long have you been up?”

“Like seven thirty.”

She shook her head, “Early as fuck,” She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “What time is it now?”

“Almost noon. Figured I’d wake you up so you’re not late for your hair appointment.”

Phoenix shifted her body and laid her head on his lap. “I don’t want to go to that.”

“Nah, Phoenix. Get yo’ ass up. You’re not about to blame me for your hair not being done later.”

Phoenix moaned in protest. He slipped his hand in her curls, rubbing her head. “How am I supposed to get up and you’re doing shit like this?”

He stopped and lifted her up from him. He held her chin, “Because… you need to go wash your hair, wash your face, brush them teeth and put some lotion on this ashy ass foot you had on me.”

She swatted his hand from her face. “You can suck my ass, Erik. My foot ain’t ashy.”

“I’ll do more than suck your ass, baby girl.” he licked his lips. Phoenix watched closely as his tongue grazed his lips. She had zoned out, flashing back to all of the dreams that she’s been having of him doing just what he said. Her breathing hitched and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. The snapping of his fingers in front of her face, snatched her from her mind.

“Hm?”

He raised a brow at her. “You were thinking about me sucking your ass, huh?”

“What-- No!”

“Mhm.” he chuckled.

“I see you want to start with me early today.” she says as she stands and searches under the blanket for her sock.

“Early? Girl, half the damn day is gone.”

“Whatever. It’s early to me.” She finds her sock and sits down to put it on. She fills on the floor for her phone, checking it and seeing that the group chat with her friends is currently up in flames with 23 unread messages. She swipes to open the thread and finds that she’s butt of their jokes.

Mica: I know Phoenix up. She’s avoiding us right now.

Camren: lmao. That’s because Erik giving her that morning wood.

Mica: Right! “Niggas be like” head ass.

Ava: She think she slick too. Y’all notice how she made sure you couldn’t see his face?

Camren: yessss! No face. No Case.

Mica: lmfao.

“Oh my goodness.” Phoenix drags a hand over her face.

“What’s wrong?”

“My crew as you call them, they’re lighting my ass up right now about something I posted on Instagram.”

“Oh, that boomerang?” Her head snapped in his direction. “Yeah, I seen that.” he bit his lip to stop himself from smiling.

“How did you see that?”

“I follow you.”

“What? When-- when did you follow me?”

Erik shifted his focus to his phone, looking unbothered at the fact that he just snitched on himself. “I been following you.”

“Since when?”

“Don’t worry about all that. Stop being fake bougie and follow me back.”

Phoenix was stunned that she didn’t know this information. She felt exposed. “This is weird. What’s your name?”

He snatched her phone from her hands and searched his name @Kingkill_ . His page was private so he requested a follow from her page. He exited out of the app and opened her messages, going to her group chat. Phoenix watched, confused as to what he was going to do. He tapped the photo icon and the camera popped up on screen.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

Erik pushed Phoenix down onto her back, and straddled himself over her. She tried to grab the phone but he held her wrist in place and tapped the red button to record. He started dramatically humping her and laughing.

“Get off me nigga.” she shouted.

“Hold on, baby. I’m almost done.”

One of Phoenix’s hands broke free from his grip and she swung on him, reaching for her phone. He jumped up and ran. She pushed herself up from the couch going after him. He ran into his guest bedroom and locked the door. Phoenix banged on the door, shouting for him to open the door.

“I will break this bitch down. Open the door Erik.”

“Try it if you want to.”

Erik leaned his large figure against the shaking door. He proceeded to send the compromising video to her friends in the group chat. After hitting send, he unlocks the door and Phoenix stands there looking pissed with her arms folded over her chest. He hands her the phone and she snatches it and storms off.

“You really mad?” He goes after her.

She tries her best to not break her fake mad face. But seeing him laugh at her, she couldn’t hold it. “You play too much. They’re about to drag my ass.”

“C’mere.” He grabbed her and wrapped his arms around her, placing kisses all over her face. “You like it on the low.” She pushed herself off of him.

“I have to go get my hair done. I’ll see your childish ass later.”

As she turned to go put on her shoes, Erik smacks her on her butt and follows her to the door. All ready to go, she goes in for a hug and quickly gripped his face in her small hand and blew her breath in his face. The smile on his face dropped and snatched his face away. “You nasty! Get out of my house.”

Phoenix broke down in laughter. “That’s what you get for playing.”

[jawabear]

(4) A Lesson In Want (Maxwell Lord x Reader)

A/N: Here is part 4 of the story. its a little long so I’m sorry about that but Max is really cute I swear. I don't really know how to summarise this part because quite a lot happens.

Genre: Fluff, Smut

Warnings: Smut, slight choking, sub!Max, Pedro Pascal comes with his own warning

Summary: Together again

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Epilogue

She stood in the mirror looking at the dress she was wearing. It was somewhat similar to the one she had worn before. Although, it was a little more concealing then the other. The mirror its self was dirty but she didn’t really care, it just matched how she saw herself, dirty. Her job wasn’t exactly the most respectable profession but she felt she wasn’t made for anything more.

The room was dark, but she was used to it, somehow accustom to living in the darkness, a small light above her that shone a dim orange light through the room. It was cold in her room, nothing more then an attic in a giant tall building that was just as dark and cold through out its lower levels. She often wondered if everyone else who lived in the building was used to the cold as she was, but she never thought to ask, it was rare she would see anyone else anyway, she was professional and couldn’t deal with others, aside from the girl who she shared her room with, although at times she was completely unbearable.

It had been weeks since she had last seen Max, since their wonderful night together. And since that night, she had been horrible distracted. She couldn’t do anything without seeing his face or hearing his voice in her mind. She could remember the face Max made when he looked at her when he saw her in that dress when she pulled him away to please him, he made her feel so special. And their night together was just the greatest night of her life. She wanted nothing more in that moment then to fall back into his strong chest whilst his arms wrap around her and he whispers to her how beautiful she looked. Her eyes slid shut and she held a dreamy smile on her face.

She could practically hear his hushed voice in her ear as she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to replicate his warmth. She could hear his low whispers of praise. She could feel his soft lips pressing against her neck. She was once again in front of his grand fire, the heat from the flames was no match to what he gave her. His living room was bright but his eyes were brighter. His hands all over her body, caressing her skin with his rough fingers, his lips against every part of her making her feel as if she were dreaming. And she was.

“Having fun?” came a teasing voice from behind her. (Y/N) was pulled from her daydream back into the harsh reality of her life. Back into the cold dark room. She saw her friend Mia standing behind her reaching for a file. “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were in love” she smirked looking at the file.

“I don’t do love” (Y/N) argued firmly as she straightened her dress. She then stopped again and her friend came and stood next to her, looking at (Y/N) through the mirror.

“What is it about him that’s gotten you like this? You’ve done this a loads of times, this has never happened before. So he must be special, there must be something about him” (Y/N) didn’t answer and just walked away from the mirror over to her desk, she picked up the file that Mia had picked up moments before, which read “MAXWELL LORD” in bold black letters.

Mia let out a soft laugh from behind her “is it his money?” She asked “he could be the richest one you’ve ever been after”

“You know I don’t care about money” (Y/N) muttered. She opened the file and looked at the picture that was clipped inside along with pages of writing that she couldn’t be bothered to read. It was probably all lies anyway. About how vile and self-centred he was, he had proven to her that he was more then the news made him out to be. He was a sweet, caring man.

“So what is it then? His status? His connections?”

“He’s...he’s nice to me”

“He’s nice to you?”

“I’ve done this so many times...giving myself to all of those dirty men for the sake of completing the mission and after all these years, he’s the first person to ask me what I want. No one else has treated me with such care, to them I was an object, a pretty face, but to him...I’m more then that. He’s gentle and kind. He said he likes me. He said I’m the woman of his dreams...” she let a soft smile form on her lips as her fingers gently grazed over his picture “he said that he didn’t believe I was real...”

“He’s just another rich guy looking for a woman to hold on his arm to impress people, (Y/N)” Mia told her.

“You don’t know anything about him” (Y/N) scoffed defensively. “He’s not like everyone else Mia...he’s different”

“He’s different” Mia repeated “there’s no such thing as different. But I will say one thing, he must be quite something you get you in this state. You’re usually the most professional of us. You seem a little distracted all the time, thinking of Mr Lord no doubt. If he’s so different, maybe after this mission you should try it with him, leave this and be with him”

“You say that as if they won’t want me to kill him at the end” (Y/N) said and closed the file “Besides, I can’t see that he’ll welcome me with open arms when he find out who I am”

“If you think that, then maybe he isn’t so different after all”

As much as (Y/N) hated to admit it, Mia was right. If, one day, she told Max who she was, what her job was, and he hated her for it, then he wasn’t the caring person she had thought. But she didn’t want to think he wasn’t, he had given her no reason to suspect that at the first sign of trouble, he would drop her and move on, but she couldn’t deny that that thought was eating away at her mind constantly since meeting him. The thought that he would leave her and she would be alone again.

She quickly shook her head of the thought and grabbed her shoes, quickly pulling them on and storming to the door. “Are you ready?” She asked her friend, more like ordered.

Mia laughed and turned to face her holding out her arms to the side “what do you think? Can you recognise me?”

“I can when you open your mouth” (Y/N) muttered before leaving the room.

The gathering was a charity event at a local history museum. Max didn’t really try his hand in history that much, although he was quite fond of Greek literature, he loved to read about the gods and myths of the ancient world, the love and the tragedy. The museum needed extra funding and what better way to source money then to drain it from the richest people in the city. Maxwell Lord being one of them.

Max was used to the deal by now. Getting hounded by wealthy men and women who all want to flaunt how rich they were to each other, a test to see who had the biggest ego. Talking rubbish about history that they didn’t understand or care to look into. They would try and show off to him about how much they knew, Max was half tempted to correct them but he thought it was funny to hear them big themselves up.

Max tried to play along as best he could, nodding along to whatever they said but he had to admit that his mind was elsewhere. It had been weeks since he had heard anything of (Y/N). And he missed her everyday he was apart from her. He desperately wanted to see her again. He didn’t care what happened between them, whether they return to his home to recreated their night or simply just talk. He didn’t care, being in her presence alone would be enough for him. He had wanted nothing more then to see her smile, hear her voice, look into her beautiful eyes. Just to be near her again.

He figured if he were to see her again, it would be tonight. So he dressed up smarter then he usually would, not that he was ever scruffy looking. He wore he best and most expensive black suit. A crisp white dress shirt, black tie, shining shoes and his hair slicked back. He definitely dressed to impress this evening.

“I’m starting to get the feeling you aren’t a fan of these gatherings Mr Lord” the young gentleman in front of him, who had introduced himself as James Felis said pulling Max’s attention from looking for her to him. He was a clean looking man, clean shaven, dark eyes and dark hair, quite tall but a little shorter then Max. He was new to the business world, his name only just starting to get know. Max had spoken with him a few times at past events, he seemed nice enough, more genuine then most which Max found surprising due to his young age. Max was very arrogant when he was younger, figuring that’s how he would get what he want. He had however mellowed out over the course of his business.

“What makes you say that?” Max asked even though he was right. Max took a sip of his drink and tried to focus on James but him mind betrayed him, her beautiful face was at the forefront of his mind and he couldn’t stop his eyes from wavering around the room they were in. The ancient history wing of the museum, standing beside a painting that depicted the Trojans brining the famed wooden horse into the city walls of Troy that was soon to be destroyed by the Greeks that were hiding inside its belly.

“Every time we speak, your mind seems to be elsewhere. Either your looking for a quick escape or my voice just bores you”

Max let out a stiff chuckle “no, it’s not either really. Just...admiring the outfit choices, always different and of course be art work beside us” he said pointing to the painting with his glass.

“Looking for someone in particular?” James teased as he took a sip of his own drink. “I’m surprised you are not yet in a relationship. Women must be lining up to get a taste of Maxwell Lord. Can’t be difficult for you to find a partner”

“No, you’re right. But, I haven’t found the right one” Max shrugged. He had found the right one. He wasn’t sure if he should admit it, she was so secretive about herself, Max wasn’t sure if he should reveal their little ordeal to a stranger.

“Never would’ve taken you for the sentimental type. Thought you would be like any other rich man”

“And what’s that?”

“Well, you know, sleeping around. Waking up to a different woman in your bed every morning”

“Maybe when I was a little younger” he admitted “but I haven’t done that for a long time. Thought maybe it was time to really start looking. Is that the lifestyle you live by?”

James laughed and shook his head “no, there are a few occasions when I will bring a woman home with me to bed, but not every night, like you, I am also looking for the right woman”

“Excuse me gentlemen” came a soft voice as a woman with fiery red hair slipped into the conversation. Max’s eyes fell on her.

“Hello~” James drew out “and who might you be?”

“Scarlett Diaz” she introduced with an innocent smile holding out her hand to him. He took it and brought it to his lips pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles and winked at her making her giggle “and who might you be?”

“James Felis” he introduced. She then turned to Max. She had unreal blue eyes. Her lips bright red which matched both her hair and her dress.

“And you sir?” She asked in a smooth voice that reminded him of (Y/N). Their voices were almost identical. But it wasn’t her he was looking at. Maybe he was just too obsessed with her that now any woman sounded like her.

“Maxwell Lord” he greeted. He wasn’t as gentlemanly as James had been, opting for just shaking her hand instead.

“Of course, I should’ve know. I’ve heard all about you in the news. Quite the name you’ve made for yourself Mr Lord, I’m impressed. I myself am not much for the spotlight like you seem to be”

“Really?” He said. He looked her up and down and gave her a soft smile “you seem to stand out in a crowd. I’ve never seen hair so red before”

She smiled to him and brushed a strand behind her ear “yes, well, we all need to be a bit adventurous with how we look sometimes. Much better I think then wearing simple black or white. Adds a little colour to people’s lives. Wouldn’t you agree Mr Lord?”

“I would agree” he nodded “although red would not be my colour of choice”

“It would be mine” James chipped in, but he seems to be ignored for the moment.

“And what would your colour of choice be?” She asked him but didn’t give him time to answer “gold perhaps? Or maybe you like a woman in (f/c)”

Max was a little shocked at her words. Confused as well. It could’ve just been a lucky guess, but he felt it was something more then that, as if she knew. “Yes,” he mumbled “I think (f/c) would be favourable to me” he looked away from the woman and took a large swig of his drink finishing it off “excuse me” he nodded curtly to the two in front of him before leaving. He was heading towards the bar to get a drink but something in his mind had stopped him and told him to look right.

And he was gazing into the most beautiful eyes anyone could ever look into.

She was there.

And she was wearing (f/c).

He noticed her give him a soft smile before she walked behind a wall going deeper into the exhibit. He was quick to follow after her, not much caring for another drink now, he wasn’t going to loose her. At some point he had put down his empty glass but he couldn’t recall where.

He rounded the corner and saw her standing alone staring at a painting holding a half filled glass of champagne in her hands.

As he had the night she had first touched him, he straightened himself, regaining his composure before approaching her. He stood next to her but keeping a slight distance, trying his best to resist the urge to wrap his arms around her.

“Beautiful piece” she said not looking at him.

“It is. Are you familiar with the story of Dido?” He asked her, his eyes on her.

“The queen of Carthage. She was shot by Cupid and made to fall in love with the Trojan leader Aeneas by the queen of the gods, Juno’s orders. But he had to leave to found Rome and left her alone in Carthage. So hopelessly in love with him by the gods hands she throws herself onto Aeneas’ sword and dies” she summarised.

“Did you study the stories?”

“Only to make conversation” she shrugged making his laugh softly

“It’s nice to see you again (Y/N)”

“And you Mr Lord”

“Mr Lord?” He repeated raising an eyebrow at her. She turned to face him, taking a teasing sip of her drink.

“Is that not your name?” She asked him “I would’ve thought you would prefer me to call you by your title rather then your first name at such a formal event. Maybe we should keep the use of your first name for when we’re alone”

“Will we be alone again anytime soon?”

“Perhaps” she nodded

“I’ve really missed you”

“You have?”

“You sound surprised” he chuckled “did you think I would forget you?”

“Not exactly” she said “I just thought you would be done with me”

“Clearly you are not done with me” he retorted “if you were, I don’t think you would’ve made yourself known to me tonight”

“I guess you’re right”

“Just so you know, our night together didn’t mean I was done with you, I meant what I said (Y/N), I like you, more than just a sexual liking”

She gave him a light chuckle and sipped her drink again “and I like you too Mr Lord”

“Will you let me take you out to dinner?”

“No” she answered firmly

“Why not?” She paused for a moment “is it because of your job?”

“Partly. But also because I hate people”

“But yet you come to things like this, places full of probably the worst kind of people in this city”

“I know, but I never talk to any of them, I’m very good at hiding. I could stand in the middle of the room and still no one would pay any attention”

“Which I still find hard to believe. Someone as beautiful as you must’ve caught the eye of someone”

She smirked over to him “clearly I have, so what is it about me Mr Lord that interested you to take notice of me? Was it simply just my looks?” She was testing him at this point, seeing if Mia’s theory was right.

“You can’t blame me for being drawn to a woman as beautiful as you. But it wasn’t just your looks, it was how easily you managed to slip away in a split second. One minuet you would be in front of me, the next you would be gone. I was interested to know, as I’ve told you before, if you were real. I’m interested by you’re aura, you have the ability to disappear but then be so obvious like you are now” he brushed a piece of hair behind her ear “there’s something about you that draws me to you but I can’t tell what it is. Maybe it’s your eyes, you’re beautiful eyes, or maybe it’s simply that I don’t understand you, and I wish too”

“What about me do you wish to understand?”

“Who you are”

“I can’t tell you that”

“I know” he nodded “I respect that”

A silence fell over them as they both stared at the painting in front of them. It was a peaceful silence though, they could hear the busy chatter of the guests in the other room but it was mostly muffled but the wall that separated them.

“There’s a woman here tonight who is a lot like you” he said “she looks nothing like you but she has the same feel about her”

“What’s her name?” She asked him.

“I think she said it was Scarlett? Scarlett Diaz”

“Can’t say I’ve ever heard of her before” (Y/N) shrugged

“Well, she seemed to talk the same as you. But maybe that’s just my mind playing tricks on me”

“Maybe”

“If it’s not to much trouble, would you allow me to take you back to my house?”

“What would we get up to there?”

“Anything you want to. It been a while since we’ve seen each other and I’d rather spend time together when I know you can’t slip away from me into a crowd”

“Very well” she nodded with a smile as she finished off her drink “I’ll meet you outside Mr Lord” she held up her glass to him and slipped by him, her hand gliding across his back.

He smiled as he watched her slide into the crowd, but this time he wasn’t worried about loosing her. He quickly made his own way through the crowd outside where his sleek black car was waiting. He leant against the car and looked to the entrance of the museum waiting for her.

It didn’t take long for her to emerge from the entrance. Looking like a queen, a goddess from the stories he loved to read, to be honest, he would be surprised if she was in fact a goddess in disguise. She seemed to glow as she walked carefully down the steps to the museum, holding her dress up slightly to ensure she didn’t trip.

He held his hand out to her and helped her down the last few steps and opened up the car door for her “after you my lady” he said with a polite smile, she couldn’t help but blush as she got into his car. He slid into the seat next to her and told his driver to take them back to his house.

He couldn’t help but look at her the entire way, how radiant she looked, the way she gazed out of the window, her eyes every so often catching the warm orange glow of the streetlights they passed. He couldn’t resist touching her anymore, it was warm gesture and it sent her heart into over drive.

He rested his hand on her knee. Her gazed was pulled from out the window to his hand and she smiled “you look so beautiful tonight (Y/N)” he complimented.

“Thank you Max” she said.

“Back to first name basis?” He asked with a soft smirk.

“Well, we are alone” she shifted slightly so her body was now facing him, her hand running up and down his arm. “You look a lot smarter than usual. Is this a new suit?”

“Newish” she shrugged “I’ve only worn it once, it’s my best suit. Only for the most special occasions”

“Did you dress up all nice and fancy for me baby?” She asked him in a seductive whisper “because I don’t think that event classes as a special occasion”

“Wanted to look my best for you baby” he said in a broken whisper. She looked to where the drive would be and saw a dark screen that blocked them from him.

“How long till we get there?” She asked him. Max looked out of the window.

“Maybe about...20 minuets?” He guessed. He heard the click of her seatbelt undo and she was quickly on his lap, straddling his waist.

“Do you think 20 minuets is enough time?” She asked as she bit her bottom lip. He nodded rapidly and swallowed thickly, his hands coming to rest on her hips. “I don’t want to make a mess on your fancy suit”

“I don’t care. You could fucking rip it to pieces if you wanted to” He panted slightly to her, he leaned forwards to kiss her but she smirked and pulled back.

“Well I don’t want to do that baby” she chuckled, she reached between their bodies and unbuckled his belt and unzipped his trousers. She reached into his boxers and pulled out his length. She stroked him a few times and he shuddered, his eyes never leaving hers.

She slowly sunk down his body and ran her tongue over the head of his dick “(Y-Y/N)” he whimpered. She then licked up his entire length and he let out a pathetic noise that was sent straight to her core. She hummed happily against him and took as much as she could of him into her mouth, what she couldn’t fit in her mouth she pumped with her hand. He whimpered and whined pathetically as he thrust his hips up into her slightly, his head falling back and his eyes sliding shut. “(Y/N)” he moaned, his fingers sliding into her hair. “I want to be inside you” he muttered.

She immediately pulled him out of her mouth, a small bit of drool sliding down her chin. She got back onto his lap and he lifted his thumb and wiped her saliva away from her chin. He brought his thumb to his lips and slipped it past them, sucking her drool off him.

She smiled to him and bit her bottom lip “such a good boy for me aren’t you” she praised lightly. He nodded and removed his thumb from her lips. She moved one of her hands under her dress between their bodies and moved her panties to one side and took him back into her hand. She aligned him with her entrance and slowly sunk down onto him. He let out a harsh breath when she did and he gripped her hips tightly.

(Y/N) began bouncing on him almost immediately, Max’s eyes grew heavy and eventually closed as his head fell backwards again “oh baby, you feel so good” he groaned. She hummed in response and placed her lips to his neck, sucking on the skin between his neck and his jaw. His finger tips dug into her hips as he moaned out her name multiple times, repeating it as if it were some kind of chant.

Her hands slid up to his hair and she grabbed the strands and pulled his head up “I want you to look at me while I fuck you” she ordered in a whispered to him. His eyes opened and met with her seductive glare that made him shake and whimper.

“Will...will you choke me?” He asked quietly, his cheeks flushing bright red at his request, he felt so small but he loved it, he loved the dominance she had over him in that moment. He loved the way she looked at him, the way she spoke to him, she way she felt around him. “P-please?”

He looked at her with wide eyes, puppy eyes. Big, brown and beautiful. Pleading her to grant him his wish and she was more then happy to comply, she just hoped that she wouldn’t be too hard on him. She moved one of her hands from his hair and wrapped her fingers around his neck, applying light pressure. “H-harder” he breathed when she pulled his hair.

She did as he ask, her fingers getting tighter around his neck as she rolled her hips against her. His moan came out broken and it made her groan. She could feel his dick twitching inside her and she decided to go faster. He was struggling to keep his eyes open, the pleasure and lack of air was making his head spin in the best possible way, he couldn’t help but smile as she fucked him.

“You like that?” She smirked into his ear, her heavy breaths going straight through him “you like to be dominated? You like having my hand around you neck?”

“Yes...yes I do (Y/N)” he gasped and nodded “oh fuck, I’m gonna come” he moaned shakily. He moved one hand from her hips and grabbed her wrist, pushing it into his neck. “Fuck! (Y/N)!” He yelled as he came suddenly inside of her, his hips bucked wildly up into, his body shaking. The warmth of his come and the sight of him falling apart was enough to send her over the edge, her walls clenching around him making his head fall back.

She removed her hand from his neck and noticed it was slightly red but she could tell it wouldn’t stay like that for very long. She slowly slipped off him and tucked him back into his boxers and tidied him up a bit, he was too fucked out to do it himself. She sat beside him again and slowly ran her hand up and down his heaving chest while he came down from his high.

He let out a low breath and turned his head to look at her, his eyes opened and they were blown black with desire. She smiled at him “did you like that Max?” She teased.

“Yes” he nodded “I really did...I’ve never...never felt so good...”

“I’m glad you liked it baby” she leaned forwards and pressed her lips to his in a gentle kiss. He took her hand in his, interlacing their fingers together when he pulled away to look out of the car window. She looked at their joined hands and her heart swelled. Such a small action, but it meant the world to her.

“I think we’re nearly there” he said quietly, his breath slowly coming back to him. She hummed in acknowledgement and lifted their joined hands to her lips and pressed a gentle kiss to his knuckles. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and smiled to her. “How about, when we get back, we take a bath together?” He offered. She shuffled closer to him, bringing their joined hands to rest on her lap while her head rested on his shoulder.

“I’d like that” she hummed. He pressed a soft kiss to her head and they sat in a comfortable silence for the remaining few minuets of the car journey.

15/04/20

[talkfastromance4]

For Your Eyes Only– bodyguard!ashton [Chapter Eleven]

Summary: Ashton Irwin is the head of security for Princess Alouette who is a kind, gentle young woman. Secretly pining for one another, those feelings will soon come to light as an occurrence will change Alouette’s life forever, and Ashton’s.

Word count: 2,456

Warnings: swearing

Author’s note: There’s only ONE MORE chapter after this one and this fic will be complete! Thank you so much to those who have read and messaged me about this story. This is the first multi-chaptered fic I’ve started (and almost completed) Ashton and Alouette are near and dear to my heart. Thank you for joining me on their journey! There is a link to click on near the bottom. 

donate to my ko-fi here :)

Masterlist

Chap. 1 || Chap. 2 || Chap. 3 || Chap. 4 || Chap. 5 || Chap. 6 || Chap. 7 || Chap. 8 || Chap. 9 || Chap. 10

Alouette’s never been in or near the interrogation room that’s in the guard’s building. She wraps her arms around herself as Michael leads her inside, the walls are cement and the room beyond the two-way mirror is small and boxy. 

Bright fluorescent lights hum on beyond the glass as Michael presses a button next to her. There’s a large metal tale in the center with two chairs on opposite sides of the table. A large door is on the far wall.

“What’s his name?” Alouette asks softly, turning to Michael.

“Icarus Bram,” he sighs, turning on speakers and the intercom. 

The door she and Michael just walked through opens to reveal Luke.

“Hey Mike. Princess,” Luke smiles. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Alouette watches the big metal door swing open, an officer holds onto Icarus Bram and leads him to the table. He doesn’t look familiar to Alouette from her days with all those men. His hair is parted down the middle, dirty blond and unruly and he has a permanent smirk.

“I have to know why,” she responds, turning her gaze to Luke and Michael. 

“I’ll be in there with you the whole--”

“No. I need to do this on my own,” Alouette interrupts Michael. “He isn’t a threat.”

Michael sighs and exchanges a final look to Luke who shrugs lightly. “If he even appears to be violent, we’re coming in straight away.”

“Be careful,” Luke says, stepping aside so she can open the door.

Alouette takes a deep breath before pushing down the handle, swinging it open. Icarus smiles mirthlessly as she walks to her side of the table. The metal legs of the chair scrape on the cemented floor as she pulls it out and sits down. 

“Hello Princess,” he croaks leaning forward on the table, his hands clasped while his wrists are bound with handcuffs. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

She eyes him, his voice now chiming a familiar bell. He was the mastermind behind the whole thing. She remembers hearing him through the speaker on the phones that the men used. 

“I think you know,” Alouette states calmly. “I’m here for answers. Answers that you won’t give to my guards.”

“And what makes you think I’ll give them to you?”

It’s Alouette’s turn to lean forward. 

“Because I’m the one you took, don’t you think I should know why?” Alouette’s voice is steely but inside she’s trembling. 

Icarus lets out a deep chuckle and rubs his hands together. 

“You aren’t as dim as people say you are, Princess. You really want to know why we did it?”

Alouette keeps her gaze steady but she can feel her heart pounding inside her chest. It makes the swans on her neck bounce lightly on her skin waiting in anticipation for his answer. 

“We wanted to see if we could take you,” he begins moving back against his chair and holds his hands up in the air as if presenting her with a prize, “and we did.”

Alouette fumes with anger, so much so that she feels her hands shake. The only reason he plotted this was because of his own personal challenge?

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. Shame your bodyguard boyfriend came ‘round, though. We were just about to get to the fun stuff--”

The door bangs open behind Alouette and before she can react, Ashton barrels across the table, grabs hold of Icarus’ head and slams it against the top. The sound of skin and bone striking against the hard metal table causes her to scream. She watches in surprise as Ashton grabs for him again but she grasps at his shirt.

“Ashton! Stop, stop!” Alouette screams and because she tells him to, he does.

He’s breathing heavily, eyes ablaze as he allows Alouette to pull him back to the door where Michael and Luke are watching, eyes wide. Icarus Bram’s officer comes in tugging him to his feet as Ashton leads Alouette to the door. 

She turns around and sees his nose and mouth is covered in blood. Ashton must have broken his nose. 

“You’re sentenced to isolation in prison for the rest of your life,” she tells him.

“I didn’t do those things to you, Princess,” he spits the blood from his split lip.

“No, but your cohorts that you ordered did under your advisement,” Alouette fires back. Her voice is calm but her eyes are aflame with the rage inside her. “They’re dead, so you will take their time.”

“I didn’t touch you!” he shouts trying to fight off the officer just as another one enters the room to aid in restraining Icarus. 

“You wanted to see what you could do, this is what I can do,” her voice is laced with venom and Ashton pushes her lightly through the door. 

“What the bloody hell was that? How could you let her be in the same room as that bastard?!” Ashton shouts pointing his finger at Michael and Luke.

“I thought you knew!” Michael defends.

“If I knew, wouldn’t you think I’d be here?” Ashton roars.

“We thought she told you not to,” Luke responds quietly then glances to Alouette who is visibly shaken. “Princess--”

“Alou--”

“Angel,” Ashton says and holds his arms out so she can fall into them. She’s shaking and gasping for breath, her nails digging into the flesh of Ashton’s arms. 

“I think she’s having a panic attack,” Michael says.

“Alouette, look at me,” Ashton lets her slide to the floor, still bracing her in his arms. Her eyes are tightly closed and he cradles her face, thumbs rubbing the tears from her eyes. “Alouette, please, look at me.”

Her eyes flicker open, big and blue and full of fear before she focuses on Ashton, but she’s still choking for air. 

“You’ve got to breathe for me, deep inhale, c’mon . . .” he watches her shudder an intake of breath. “Good, now out.”

He breathes out with her and does the exercise a few more times until she’s breathing normally and her hold on his forearms loosen.

“I’m sorry, Ash, I--”

“Shh, shh. He didn’t touch you, did he?” he asks brushing her hair from her eyes and she shakes her head. He helps her rise to her feet, steadies her and holds her close.

“We really thought you knew, Ash. I wouldn’t have--”

“I know,” Ashton nods to Michael then to Luke. “We’ll talk about this later. Right now I want to get her out of here.”

•••••

“I’m sorry,” Alouette says for what seems like the twelfth time as they’re sitting on their swing by the lake. 

“You don’t have to keep apologizing,” Ashton smiles at her but it doesn’t meet his eyes. He’s fixing up her cup of tea; green, strong and three sugars.

“But you’re mad at me.”

She watches him stir the tea, clink it on the side and place it on the table before bringing the saucer to her. He sits down heavily and places his arm behind her shoulders, his hand cups her shoulder and he leans forward to kiss her temple.

“I’m not mad at you, I promise,” he hums on her skin and gives her one more kiss. He looks into her eyes then pulls on her bottom lip with his thumb before he kisses her softly. “I was more scared than anything.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t want him to bring you back to that awful place you were in. I didn’t want him to touch you or hurt you in any way. If there’s anyone I’m mad at it’s Michael for allowing you to speak with him,” he chuckles. 

“I swore him to secrecy and I asked the favor as a friend, please don’t be mad at him. He was only trying to help me.”

They sit in silence, quietly gliding to and fro watching the sun glitter on the small waves created by the wind. Alouette sips her tea delicately and enjoys the soft touches of Ashton’s fingers on her shoulder and neck. 

“Luke said you wanted to see me,” Princess,” Calum announces suddenly behind them. 

They both turn to him, Ashton in confusion and Alouette smiling.

“Yes, thank you. Can you tell Victor I’d like to make an address to the kingdom? I’d like it to be for three o’clock, it won’t be long,” she tells him.

Calum’s dark eyes flicker between her and Ashton, usually Ashton is the one to contact Victor and set up the contingencies. 

“Uh, yes. Yes, I can do that,” Calum clears his throat and nods, giving Ashton an apprehensive look. 

“And make sure to conference call my grandmére? I’ve discussed this with her on the phone and she should be here, even if it is through a monitor.”

“I’ll get to work on it right away, Princess,” Calum nods then does a small head bow. He gives Ashton one last look before retreating back to the palace, his phone already pressed to his ear. 

“I can do all that for you, Alouette. Why are you having Cal?” Ashton asks, placing his hand on her crossed knee. 

“I know you can, but I want you standing next to me when I give my address,” she says grasping his hand in hers, “as my partner.”

•••••

Alouette changed into a pretty lilac dress suit for the address. On the platform on the main steps of her palace she was joined by Ashton on her right side with Michael, Calum and Luke perched beyond them. Sydney is there as well amongst Alouette’s other advisors and her grandmére is on a larger screen behind. 

Queen Helene is also wearing a lilac dress with her crown atop her head. Victor nods at Alouette and she steps up to the podium where multiple microphones are placed. The reporters and other film crew standing below on the gravel stand to attention.

“Hello my fellow Chadrians,” Alouette begins eloquently. “I know this is very last minute and I’ve addressed what happened to me months ago, but I wanted to thoroughly explain my absence. It’s taken a long time for my body to heal from what happened during my kidnapping, and it’s taken even longer for my mind to heal.

“Earlier this morning, I spoke with the man who orchestrated my kidnapping. I needed answers and while I wasn’t put at ease for his reasoning, I have sentenced him to isolation in prison for the remaining days of his life. His name is Icarus Bram and to some of you, it may seem like an easy punishment. Some of you may want his head. Some of you may say I have no spine.

“I’m not unfamiliar with what has been said about me, that I am gentle and kind but also may appear to be flippant and dim sighted to what’s going on around me. I hope this will show you I am anything but those negative things. I promise you, that when I am announced as your Queen, I will rule with love but with an iron fist. I love my people and my country and if it wasn’t for this man standing next to me, I wouldn’t have the strength I have now.”

She turns to Ashton and holds out her hand, she hears the multiple clicks and flashes of cameras as he takes her hand. His hazel eyes glance to the reporters before he joins her near the podium. 

“Ashton Irwin is my head bodyguard, and he has been for the last four years. He’s the one who didn’t give up and rescued me. He’s the one I trust with my whole life and,” Alouette faces Ashton, “he’s the one I love.”

There’s gasps and shouts of questions but Ashton just smiles at Alouette. He squeezes her hand and she squeezes back, both of them assuring the other about the implications from her publicly confirming their relationship. 

“Quiet, quiet please! The Queen has something she’d like to say,” Sydney says into the microphone and smiles happily at her lady. 

“I have spoken with my granddaughter and Mr. Irwin frequently about their relationship. And while they have already been granted my blessing, I have also decided to change the decree that if you are of royal blood, you may marry whomever you decide. I’m very proud of my Alouette, as you all should be, and I am elated to be with you all next month for her coronation,” Queen Helene finishes with a smile and the screen goes dark. 

Questions erupt in uproars once more but Alouette explicitly said she would not be answering any of them. She’s still smiling proudly at Ashton as they retreat back into the palace, leaving the buzz behind them as they go back to their swing. 

•••••

A few days later after Alouette’s address, she and Ashton were standing at the edge of the small dock of the lake watching the two swans keep their one cygnet between them. Alouette loved watching them swim about and even brought some bread to feed them.

 Her announcement of their relationship is still front page news but Alouette couldn’t be happier. 

“Alouette,” Ashton says while she breaks off the last piece of bread and tosses it into the water. 

“Yes?” She watches the small bird nibble it up and when Ashton doesn’t respond, she turns around then gasps. 

Ashton is on his left knee with a small rose gold box in his hand. He swallows harshly, Adam's apple bobbing as he reaches with a shaky hand for her own. Alouette takes it softly, eyes on him.

“Becoming your head bodyguard was the best decision of my life. I fell in love with you four years ago and continue to fall even more in love with you every day. I will go to the ends of the earth for you and I will always be your confidante and your safe space. Will you grant me the greatest gift of becoming my wife?”

He pops open the ring box and Alouette gasps again through her tears as she sees the beautiful rose gold ring sparkle in the sun. 

“Yes, yes, a thousand times yes,” she whispers, pulling him to his feet so she can kiss him. It’s a tear stained kiss mixed in with smiles and giggles. He slides the ring on her finger and it fits perfectly. 

They’re kissing and hugging each other on the dock. Ashton is so happy he spins her around before letting her stand once more, his arms are still around her.

“I love you, my lady.”

“I love you too,” she smiles stroking his cheek with her left hand. The ring glints and shines. “Can I ask you something now?”

“Anything.”

“Will you be my knight?”

• • • •

Taglist: @galcalirwin @cashtonasff5sos @wokeupinjapanisabop @myloverboyash  @rotten-kandy @tea4sykes @jannimoeller3 @loveroflrh @iovehemmings @cxddlyash @princesslrh @here-for-the-uproars @katiaw2 @g-l-pierce @fairyintheglass @gosh-im-short @banditocth @dezzym17 @wildflowerxcth @lukeisbaby

[arolla-pine]

I, Marinette - p.8

(8) – The Miracle Box

That was unbelievable! I’d just started feeling comfortable as Marinette! And now I had to start all over again?!

“Bugaboo?” Ladybug asked me tenderly, kneeling by my side.

“Woah… That was totally unexpected…” I sighed staring at my palm covered by some little blackholes – a proof that Cat Noir had already used his “Cataclysm” spell.

“What now?”

“We have to use this Cataclysm, otherwise I’ll hurt you or myself, or I’ll destroy the Louvre Palace…” I muttered.

Ladybug found a bird feather and popped it out in the air. I caught it and it turned into dust instantly.

“Thanks…” I murmured. “It looked like an Amok, you know?”

“It seems like both of us used the superpowers…” Ladybug sighed looking at a dotted red globe in her hands. “We’ll transform back soon.”

“So, we’d better go down from the roof.” I suggested and stood up.

“Still remember how to use the staff?” Ladybug winked at me in a very Cat Noir’s style.

“You bet!” I laughed.

But I wasn’t amused. I waited for Ladybug leaving towards the Seine and assessed the Cat Noir’s weapon. I repeated to myself to trust to my instinct and to body memory, yet I was terrified at the idea of another air means of transport… I would have to go to therapy after all that!

I found Ladybug at the bank of Seine next to the Pont du Carrousel. We hid under the bridge.

“We don’t have time, Cat…” I whispered. “We have to find a shelter. If Juggler finds us when we are in the civilian selves, we can say goodbye to our Miraculouses.”

“We’ll learn about our identities!” Ladybug replied in horror. Adrien started paninicking… Not good… That didn’t help me at all.

“Actually, I know yours…” I admitted and Ladybug gasped. “But I’m aware it might be a shock for you… Before we’ll transform back, could you show me what’s the ‘Lucky charm’?”

“I have no idea what’s that…”

I glanced at the oval object in Ladybug’s hands. If anyone asked me, I’d say it looked like a new Miracle Box. That meant we needed an ally. My brain tried to work as fast as possible.

“OK, Cat…” I made a decision. “We have to split. I’m going for the Miracle Box, although I have no idea who could we ask for help. Chloe revealed all identities of the miraculous’ holders. I hope I’ll figure out something in the meanwhile. Let’s meet somewhere around the Eiffel Tower. If I make it…”

“I’m sure you will, M’Lady…” Ladybug assured me, and my brain tried to process the collision of words and image of a person speaking. “You have been Lady Noir already, so I’m sure you’ll do your job perfectly…”

“But I have never been a boy…” I muttered, and my partner burst out laughing.

“After Reflekta nothing surprises me anymore…” he replied after a moment.

“Good luck, Cat! Oh, and don’t panic!”

“Why should I?” Ladybug asked me surprised.

“Tikki will take care of you…” I told rather myself than him, suspecting how much he would be shocked when he found out the Ladybug’s identity. “See you later!”

I jumped on the Cat’s staff, trying to overcome sickness at my stomach. I preferred walking on the ground, but there was no time for this. I had to be home before I transformed into Adrien.

I landed on Marinette’s balcony just before my time was up. When my feet stood on the floor I felt transformation. I saw green flashes around me and a cool air ran down through my body. Plagg emerged immediately in front of my face and looked at me concerned. Was it possible that this little sarcastic cat was worrying about a teenager’s emotions?

“Don’t panic, Pigtails…”

Oh, right! Plagg’s nickname for Marinette…

“I’m fine… I knew it was Adrien…” I muttered, jumping into Marinette’s bedroom.

“Really?” Plagg was surprised, but to hide all hints of sensitivity he added in his normal tone: “I’m starving!”

“Of course…” I reached my pocket to get some cheese for the kwami. “Even if I gave you piles of camembert you’d still be starving…”

“Piles of camembert… You know my deepest dreams, Pigtails…”

“No comment… Now, let’s find the Miracle Box…”

“Find? What do you mean by saying ‘find’?” Plagg choked with cheese but looked at me meaningful, so I gave him another piece of camembert. “You’ve already lost it?” he asked ironically.

“I haven’t lost it. I hid it…”

“And you forgot where?”

“It’s a long story…” I muttered.

At that moment my phone began ringing. There was Marinette’s picture on the screen. So Adrien had just found out. I clicked a green button.

“Marinette?!” a shocked face of… well… Marinette was staring at me, but said nothing more.

“Don’t panic. Just breathe!” I replied.

“But… Marinette?”

Not good… Apparently, Adrien’s brain stopped working.

“Calm down, please… Is there Tikki?”

The red kwami didn’t show up, but I heard her voice somewhere there. Oh, right! I forgot that kwami were invisible for technologies!

“Can you take care of him?” I asked with concern. A panicked partner wouldn’t help me in coming back home. “I can see he didn’t take it too well…”

“It’s not like that, Marinette!” Adrien replied. “It’s just…”

“I know, Adrien… I know…” I cut it, although I had no idea what he wanted to say. Probably, he would start talking about our friendship and how happy he was, but surprised too. I had no time for that. I had to find the Miracle Box. “I have a problem, Tik. Can you tell me, where I should look for you-know-what?”

“I can’t tell you…” Tikki sounded like she was really sad that she couldn’t help me. “Try to figure it out. Plagg will help. Remember he can pass through solid objects…”

“If the Box was smeared with camembert he would find it within a couple of seconds…” I muttered under my breath.

“Camembert? Someone has said ‘camembert’? Plagg pricked up his ears. “And I object! I would find the Box within less than a second! If it was smeared with camembert, of course… What a shame it isn’t…”

“Can you give a hint maybe?” I turned back to the phone. “Just a hint, Tikki…”

“All I can tell you is that yesterday we had no time to find a perfect hiding place.” Kwami replied. “We found a tolerable one…”

Woah, much better!

“Why are you so calm?” Marinette, or rather Adrien, cut in.

“What”? I was surprised.

“You don’t look like shocked that… you know… That I am…”

“It’s a long story…” I said, realising that I repeated this too often. “Don’t worry. After ‘Miraculous Ladybug’ we both will forget about our identities.”

“But… I don’t want to forget…” Adrien confessed.

‘Your bad, because you will…’ crossed my mind. That how the spell worked. And I could be more that sure that the original Marinette would have no idea about Cat Noir’s identity.

“Focus, Adrien!” I called him to order. “You must recharge Tikki. You should find some macaroons in my purse. But wait with transformation because I may need Tikki if I have some more problems with seeking. Just… Keep your fingers crossed and wish me luck!”

I hung up.

“I should have made you take back all those ‘just a friend’s!” I muttered to myself. “I swear if you said that, I’d cut myself into pieces. Or you…”

I heard laugh. Plagg seemed to have fun.

“It’s hilarious!”

“I’m so glad to see you find it funny. But maybe let’s find the Box instead, shall we?”

“What a shame you didn’t think about smearing it with camembert…”

“By the way, let’s try to be quiet…” I toned down my voice. “It would be better not to draw parents’ attention. Who knows how they would react seeing a boy searching their daughter’s room…”

“Especially, if it’s a love interest of their daughter…” Plagg added still amused with the situation.

“He’s so blind, that I truly doubt that even if he saw all of those stuff, he would realise about her feelings.”

“Her?” kwami stopped and looked at me alarmed. “You’re not Marinette!” He discovered.

“Bingo! Before Juggler changed me with Cat Noir, he managed to change me with Marinette.” I explained quickly. I had no time for this. Not now. “I’m not Marinette. I’m Lena. And I really need to find this Box if I want to go back home!”

“Tikki knows?”

“Sure she does. She already checked me. And now… Could you please help me in returning to my life? I have no idea where that girl could hide this egg!”

“Don’t ask me!” Plagg turned away from me, yet added under his breath: “But as a big fan of chaos and destruction I’d start from the biggest mess…”

I looked at a pile of fabrics in the corner next to the sewing machine. Theoretically, it could be considered as a ‘tolerable’ hiding place. If I was Gabriel Agreste I wouldn’t even touch a top of this pile, not to mention about diving in it… I began searching the fabrics and other sewing stuff, one by one. After a few minutes I finally found what I had been searching for. When I picked up a big red sphere, I felt like it was vibrating. That was illogical because I wasn’t Marinette – neither internally nor in body. However, the Miracle Box seemed to feel that I was the right person. Weird.

I drew a sign of ‘M’ on the top of the sphere. I didn’t know why such a stupid idea came to my mind, but surprisingly it worked. It wasn’t the first time here, in the Miraculous universe, when my intuition led me correctly to the solution.

The Box started opening, showing me the magic jewels. I didn’t know the abilities of most of them, but I remembered what I had learned about the Miraculous of Fox and the Miraculous of Turtle. I took them from the Box and then I put my hand on the top of the sphere. The Miracle Box closed, and I couldn’t believe that it worked! This time it was illogical to think that it was because of body memory – Adrien had never touched the Miracle Box nor tried to open it. So, why I managed to do it?

“Seriously? Fox and Turtle?” Plagg asked in a doubtful tone.

“I don’t know the others. Besides, when I saw them all, I discovered how we could defeat Juggler. And to do so, I need those two.”

“Wow, I’m impressed, Pigtails…”

I smiled at him. I knew I’d miss him.

“Plagg, claws out!”

---

I, Marinette - p.7  <-  Previous part  |  Next part ->  I, Marinette - p.9

Read the story from the beginning

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader- “The Work Wife” Part 6

You’ve been working for The Joker for the past 10 years: you speak and act for him and no matter the circumstances, Y/N is always there to take care of everything he needs.  The King of Gotham might not be married, yet he has a perfect partner: his work wife.

Starts HERE

After 1 Month

The Joker circles the warehouse, inspecting the boxes and crates full of ammo and smuggled goods received with last night’s shipment.

“Hmm…” he eyeballs a decorative vase engraved with gold and silver, wondering if the extravagant object should become part of his collection at The Penthouse. His cell start vibrating and J takes it out of pocket, impatient to hear about his wife’s routine checkup:

“ ‘ello,” he kicks two packages out of the way.

“Hi,” you greet your spouse. “Just got out of my appointment; the doctor said all seems fine. He ordered some lab tests to make sure my blood levels are within the normal range; I should get the results in about 3 days.”

“That’s awesome!” he grumbles while bending over to grab some papers scattered on the floor. “I’m glad you’re ok, I should have come also for moral support.”

Y/N smiles at the confession, choosing not to disclose it makes her happy:

“You have to sort out the cargo; the buyer will be there shortly.”

“Yeah, but this could have waited.”

Your smile gets wider as J fumbles around with several items. 

“Tell you what: I’ll finish up some stuff here and I’ll drive to pitch in.”

The King of Gotham wouldn’t normally decline yet he’s actually worried after everything that happened.

“Nope, I want you to rest; you’ve been too active lately and you need to slow down. Why are you giggling?” he smacks his lips, displeased four trunks look like they’ve been tampered with.

“Nothing in particular,” the bubbly Y/N keeps the best for last.

“I’ll see you home; I found something I don’t like,” The Joker grunts as the heavy lid is lifted from one of the containers. “Stay put and relax!” he orders and you nonchalantly drop the bomb:

“Maybe I will,” and after a small pause: “Oh! By the way, I was given green light for sex.”

“ ‘kay, see you in a couple of hours,” J struggles with the box and waits for your long “Byeeeeee” before hanging up. A few seconds into his task and it hits.

“Holy shit!” he exhales and holds his breath, startled. “Jesus!!” he abandons the precious merchandise, running towards the exit. “Froooossst!!!” he gets his henchman’s assistance. “Take over!!”

“Yes sir!” Jonny emerges from one of the SUV’s parked inside, not understanding why his boss is in a hurry. “Anything wrong?”

“No!!! I have a personal emergency!!” The Joker shouts and pushes the heavy metal door to the side, wishing he was already at his destination.

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

J enters the code on the pin pad and he is granted access into your apartment. He went to The Penthouse first: you weren’t there and he figured you must be on the 29th floor. He storms inside and rushes towards the bedroom when his enthusiasm is abruptly halted by no other than Jonathan Crane coming out of the kitchen.

Scarecrow almost drops the fresh coffee mug you brewed for him; The Clown Prince of Crime was certainly not informed you had company. Doesn’t matter though, he’s not one to be embarrassed by his current situation:

“May I help you Crane?” a high and mighty J sassily blurs out wearing nothing but his birthday suit.

“I doubt it,” Jonathan is quick to respond. “I dropped by to bring you extra ampules of Liquid Dream like you wanted and pain killers refill for Y/N in case she needs more.”

You suddenly pop up from behind Scarecrow, not being able to stop the question:

“Why are you naked?!”

The Joker opens his mouth because he has a cool explanation, yet the guest doesn’t care about it.

“I think I should bail,” he smirks as he passed by J. “I’m taking the cup, I’ll bring it back next time,” he announces and can’t contain a smartass remark: “Nice attire.”

Your husband bitterly growls and as always, you have to be the catalyst for a better outcome:

“Thank you, Jonathan!”

Scarecrow waves without adding extra comments, 100% positive you’ll burst out laughing as soon as he vacates the premises.  

And he’s correct.

“Oh my God,” you snicker since you didn’t expect such a funny coincidence to unfold within today’s schedule. “That was hilarious!” the amused Y/N finds herself in The Joker’s arms moments after Jonathan’s departure. “Where are your clothes?!” you kiss him and he yanks at your waist, purring.

“The jacket and shirt in the car, pants and boxers in the elevator,” he admits while guiding you towards the couch in the living room. “The socks and shoes are somewhere on the hallway.”

“I was wondering when you’ll realize about the news I shared,” you whisper in his ear as he takes off your summer dress, aroused.

The two bodies plunge on the sofa, Y/N enjoying the intimacy as much as he does:

“J… … J…” you cling to him when his left hand slips in your bikini.

“Mmm? Does something hurt?” The Joker pecks the tip of your nose, ready to quit if you say yes.

“No… it’s not that,” the seriousness in your voice makes him pay attention.

Maybe you shouldn’t bring up the past in these circumstances; here it comes anyway:

“If the Las Vegas events repeat themselves… I won’t forgive you again,” you stare in his eyes without blinking. “I won’t return… ”

The Joker is silent and you wonder what’s going on in his mind; it’s not a secret he was miserable after being abandoned in the City of Lights due to his despicable conduct.

“They won’t.”

“Are you sure?” the doubt in your tone forces him to reveal:

“I’m sure because it felt horrible when you weren’t around.”

You caress J’s hair and remind him you won’t compromise for less than his total commitment:

“You’re either mine or you’re not, ok?...”

“I’m yours,” he grumbles and it’s not very difficult since the woman asking is no casual fling but the only one he ever wanted to marry for reals. “I want the special treatment,” the immediate request makes you snort: it’s so like him to articulate crap like this in the middle of a serious discussion. 

“Do you?!”

“Yes!!” The Joker nibbles on your neck and underlines his affliction: “I’ve been so horny I’m not sure how I still function; I behaved though, I swear!” he’s fast to emphasize while pulling on your bra strap. “You know why?” J throws the question out there, aware the statement will please his wife. “I tolerate you… even if you’ve been nagging me for almost 12 years.”

“Careful,” you admonish. “Uttering such words makes you sound like you’re in love.”

“God forbids! You think so?!” the painful grimace on his face prompts more teasing from your part:

“Yeap, no cure for this terrible disease.”

Your bra ends up on the floor and he’s not content with the epilogue.

“I’m screwed then.”

“Noooot yet,” you wink and his purring intensifies when your teeth sink into his shoulder. “We’re getting there.”

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

Same morning, 11:47am

“There you are!” J exclaims discovering you on the terrace. “You disappeared on me Y/N: I thought you said we’ll have lunch,” the hyper spouse recalls. “What’s wrong?” he frowns seeing you wiping your tears and doesn’t stress the lack of an answer when he notices the ultrasound picture. The Joker quietly sits by you on the swing, kissing your scared cheek in the process. “You ok?”

“U-hum,” you nod. “I wish I didn’t have the miscarriage, you know?...” your bottom lip quivers while placing the image in your robe’s pocket. “I really wanted a baby…”

“My poor old girl…” he sighs and doesn’t expect you to agree.

“I am old!” you keep sobbing and he squeezes you closer to him. “It was probably my last chance to have a child and I blew it!”

The King of Gotham sucks at cheering; he attempts nevertheless:

“Mmmm… You’re supposed to say you’re not old and then I reply that you are old for my standards, which should prompt you to fight back and highlight my standards are crap. Am I to carry on these sort of conversations meant for two by myself now?!” he huffs. “People will think I’m crazy!”

You snort at his monologue and it’s the perfect opportunity to make it clear your opinion is unchanged:

“Your standards are crap!”

“There you are,” the delighted Joker reckons. “I got nervous for a moment,” he chuckles and you elbow him, smiling through tears. “What about we eat something and then we can plan our location for the honeymoon we didn’t get to enjoy?”

J’s plan is working: the little surprise proposition is distracting Y/N and she carefully weighs in his sentences.

“Would you like to elope?” he pushes for a decision and you play with your wedding ring, mumbling:

“I don’t wanna go to Vegas.”

“No Vegas!” he’s fast to consent. “Where to then?”

“Well…” you sniffle, “…what about Reno? We could stay at Solaris Casino; Mark Nessi would accommodate us.”

“He would. If we pack and leave, we can make it there by 7:30-ish pm.”

“You want to leave today?! What about your meetings? You actually have one tomorrow.”

“Meh, Frost can postpone them,” The Joker dismisses your concerns. “I vote we bail and have fun, hm?” he lifts your chin up. “Let’s get the hell out of here, yes?” the impatient Clown wiggles next to you.

“OK…” Y/N elects to grant his plea because escaping town couldn’t have a better timing: it will be nice to spend time together and try to get over the disappointment of his past mistake.

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

Reno, 8:42pm

You and The Joker are strolling towards the gambling area, excited to have made it here an hour ago. The traffic wasn’t bad and you took turns driving, that’s why you had dinner first and then changed clothes in order to enjoy the night properly.

“I liked the lobster,” you pull at his arm since he’s distrait. “How was your stake?” you seek to chat when he suddenly opens the door to one of the storage closets and shoves you inside. You get trapped against the wall as J claims his special request for the evening.

“I want the special treatment,” he growls and you smirk.

“You didn’t do anything to earn it! This morning I made an exception because it’s been weeks since we had sex. Don’t let my lenience trick you!”

“Don’t nag me!” J cuts you off. “This backless red dress of yours is doing things to me so I want the special treatment,” he slides his arms around your waist.

“Surrounded by shampoo bottles and toilet paper?!”

“It’s quite sexy,” The Joker grins and you compromise a tiny bit:

“I’ll only do the first part! That’s it! I want to go and play poker.”

His face comes close to yours and you start kissing every inch of it, ogling the door instead of paying attention to him.

“You’re not doing it right!” your husband complains. “You’re supposed to look at me!”

You switch your concentration and keep staring in his eyes, abandoning the project when you consider it done.  

“Where are you going?” J stops your movement. “Thanks to you I can’t walk now,” he lifts up your short dress and you dodge his touch, opening the door in order to escape.

“Of course you can! Come on, stop sulking,” you drag him out and he follows, bickering at your indifference.

“You’re mean!” The Joker admonishes and you intertwine his fingers with yours, guiding him in the direction of the VIP room.  

“No, I’m not,” you defend your actions. “I’ve been around you for so many years that those blue eyes and long lashes don’t have any powers over me,” Y/N teases. “I’m immune.”

“Bullshit!” he mutters and you steal a kiss, inviting him to enter the poker room.

“Do you want to sit by the bar?” you point and J doesn’t oppose the choice. “I’m getting a cocktail. Grape juice?”

“No,” he pouts and makes himself comfortable while you fetch your drink.

“Hello Mister Joker,” one of the dolled-up girls swiftly pops up at the table. “I didn’t see you in forever!”

“I’ve been busy,” he avoids the subject and barks when she tries to collapse on the chair next to his. “This seat’s taken!”

“Oh,” she straightens her back. “By whom?!” the envious Ella inquires.

Did another girl get to him first?! It’s common knowledge he’s generous with his flings and she can’t believe another will cash in the benefits.

“My wife,” he taps his fingers on the table, annoyed the interrogation continues.

“You got married Mister Joker?!” the woman doesn’t hide her astonishment: it’s not that his nuptials were broadcasted on the news. Plus… he’s a very weird man, totally not husband material.

“A few months ago,” he sneers and she’s not smart enough to take the hint.

“Who did you marry Mister Joker?” she giggles, more and more convinced he’s bluffing: The King of Gotham is probably messing around to make her jealous.

“My best friend and main nagger,” J bitterly mentions. “Isn’t this what people do? Marry their best friends?”

“You almost got me Mister Joker,” she laughs at his strange acknowledgement, reassured he’s messing with her: an individual like him would pronounce such nonsense only to initiate flirting.

“Excuse me!” you bump into her on purpose, aware why she’s there. “I got you grape juice on ice,” you place the glass in front of your spouse and he opens his mouth in amazement.

“I was literally about to order this! How did you know I changed my mind?!”

“Best friends know,” you bend to kiss him and J pouts, annoyed you overheard his childish affirmation.

“You have such a cool tattoo on your back!” Ella exclaims. “Is that Japanese?”

Y/N turns in her chair, confused to notice the lady is still standing behind them.

“Yes.”

“What does it say?”

You take a deep breath, fed up by her unwanted presence.

“It says that if you don’t get lost, I’ll make sure your body is never found again! And if it’s eventually found, it surely won’t be identifiable!!”

You reprise your position at the poker table, patiently waiting for the dealer to finish handing out the cards.

“I’m so hot and bothered,” J brushes his lips on yours. “Your attitude begs for my undivided eagerness to peel you out of this dress,” he lustfully glares at your cleavage.“What do you say we leave and have a party on our own? We can play strip poker in the honeymoon suite.”

“We just got here minutes ago,” you fix a rebel strand of hair then whisper: “Table seven, white shirt guy.”

“Do you ever take vacations?” The Joker grinds his teeth, nonchalantly gazing at your suspicious target.

“I like to mix business with pleasure,” you wink and accidentally spill a little bit of your cocktail on his pants. “Oops, pardon me; I assume you have to come with me if you need help stepping out of your wet garment.”

“As that old Arkham report specifies: I need all the help I can get,” The Clown reveals to an amused Y/N, excited she’s receptive to his innuendos.

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

You emerge from the walk-in closet in your skimpy purple lace attire and The Joker gasps, enticed at the view.

“Oh my God! Com’ere!” he gestures for your company and you crawl in bed, pushing aside the items scattered on the sheets:

“What’s with the shampoo bottles and toilet paper rolls?!”

“I’m attempting to recreate the seductive atmosphere in the storage room, maybe it can convince you to continue the special treatment.”

“You don’t give up, do you?” you scoff and straddle his lap, conflicted if you should grant his wish.

“I usually don’t… Are you gonna help like you promised and take off my pants?” J gropes you and the knock at the door interrupts your answer.

“Room service!”

“Did you order from the menu?” you ask and your husband purrs:

“More champagne.”

“Maybe our new friend has arrived,” you wink, hopping out of bed.

“Why don’t we find out?” The Joker spanks your butt as you cover your body with the bathrobe.

Y/N grabs the bottle of champagne from the ice bucket and hides around the corner while he shouts:

“Come in!”

The waiter pushes in the rolling cart in the middle of the lobby, greeting his grouchy customer:

“Hi Mister Joker, would you like one bottle or two?”

“One!”

You creep beyond him and smash the glass against his skull; the man falls on his knees and you take advantage of his dizziness to switch him face up: it is the guy from table seven!

“Who send you?” you ferociously punch him and he struggles to escape when The King’s gun ends up one inch away from his temple. “Who send you?” Y/N shrieks and she’s so absorbed into her job she can’t discern the mesmerized Joker staring at her. It’s not that he didn’t see you in action before, but it finally clicked:

It sure pays off being married to your work wife!

Also read: MASTERLIST

You can also follow me on Ao3 and Wattpad under the same blog name: Diyunho.

[elliemarchetti]

Our First Kiss

Part 1

Other Harry Potter fics:

Somewhere to Start (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8) (part 9) (part 10)

Slytherin!Hermione AU (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8)

The Deal (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

The Polaroids The Sixth and Seventh Polaroids

Memories of a Survivor 

Words: 2005

Hermione and Fred hadn't talked about what had happened to the World Cup and, to be honest, they hadn't spoken in general: at the beginning it was the twins’ crazy idea to participate in the Tournament even though they weren't old enough and the SPEW, then the fight between Harry and Ron and finally Rita Skeeter’s article where she said that Harry and Hermione had an affair but by now the first task was approaching and with it also that year’s first trip to Hogsmeade, so Hermione decided that the time had come to put an end to that farce and faced him Saturday morning as he went to the Great Hall for breakfast.

"But, what about Harry?" asked Fred when she asked if they could go together and after George and Lee had gone away. "Don't you want to go with him?"

"How many times do I have to tell you that there’s nothing between me and Harry?" she asked, trying not to blush. It was with someone else that she would’ve liked to have an affair and she was astonished by the fact that the smartest Weasley hadn't noticed it yet.

"So why would Rita Skeeter have to write it in her article?" he asked sharply.

"Don't be stupid, did you see who her source was?"

That was Fred's turn to blush.

"So? Can we go together?" she insisted. She didn't want to spend the afternoon with Harry hidden under the Invisibility Cloak and besides, that seemed like a good way to finally have some time alone. Not that she expected to talk about what had happened during the World Cup: probably that was just a gesture dictated by the adrenaline of the moment, and even if it had been something more it was probably past, judging by all the time they had spent separated.

"Sure!" he hastened to answer. "I have to do something with George now, but I'll see you later, okay?"

Hermione smiled enthusiastically, trying to keep looking at him and not  at the girls lurking in the Common Room, who were starting to giggle and make the thumb up to encourage her.

"Perfect." she answered, and as soon as the boy left she hopped to her friends.

"If Rita is at Hogsmeade this should be enough to make her correct the article, right?" asked Ginny, who had a crush on Harry since she'd met him, maybe even before, and that had already received a couple of letters from her mother, although she hadn't wanted to tell her what the contents were, though Hermione could vaguely imagine it, given Mrs. Weasley's intolerance for her. Surely it was what Hermione also hoped: maybe that plan would fix things and that damned journalist wouldn't be able to ruin what could be born between her and Fred.

 After the day at Hogsmeade that Fred refused to call a date because she had asked him out and he, for once, wanted to do things right, although George kept telling him it couldn’t be otherwise since he had brought her favourite chocolates at Honeydukes and he even paid her Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks, he and Hermione spent much more time together: they studied, ate and even watched the first task together, but Fred seemed unable to actually ask her out. So the time passed, and McGonagall announced that the Yule Ball would be held on Christmas night.

"It's your chance, don’t waste it" said George, who didn't seem to realize that suddenly Hermione had been swallowed up by a pack of girls who kept whispering and giggling to each other. In addition, there were a few girls who wanted to go to the Ball with them, so Lee and George had to hurry to invite Leanna and Katie  not to be overwhelmed by the young admirers who worshiped their jokes. The last week of the quarter became even more turbulent: everywhere there were rumors about the Ball, which didn’t reassure Fred, and although some of the professor gave up teaching them much when their minds were so obviously elsewhere others didn’t let a little thing like Christmas take them away from their duty, so he also found himself burdened with homework, especially from professor Snape. The only positive thing was that the Hogwarts staff, in the constant effort to impress the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang visitors, seemed determined to show the castle at its best for Christmas, and the decorations, the most extraordinary he had seen at school, helped a lot to create the atmosphere with which he wanted to ask Hermione to the Ball, occasion that presented itself sooner than expected: he had been spying on her all day, first at the break, then at lunch and finally when she was going to the bathroom, but she was always surrounded by friends, only he didn't realize that it wasn't a problem because he just needed to ask her to talk in private, if he didn’t wanted to look like a fool in front of all the girls in the school, who, after the Daily Prophets’ article suddenly seemed to wanting to be friends with the once bookworm.

"See you at dinner," he said to George, and he ran down the stairs, crossing the corridors crowded due to the end of classes, finding her at the end of the stairs that led to the Potions classroom. So, just as he had imagined, he asked her if they could talk in private and invited her, but unlike what he had thought, she apologized saying she had already been invited by someone else.

"Who are you going with?" he asked, before fleeing like a coward.

"Oh... with Viktor" she replied "Viktor Krum."

 Despite the enormous quantity of homework, Hermione, which was usually extremely loyal to the duty, wasn’t in the mood to lean over books at the end of the quarter, and she spent the week before Christmas trying to have as much fun as she could with everyone else. The Gryffindor Tower was slightly less crowded than during the school year and sometimes it seemed that it had even shrunk, since its occupants were much more impetuous than usual, unlike her and Ginny, who sometimes wandered looking distraught as Fred, who had invited Angelina, and George continued to sell profusely their Canary Cream and Harry, who had invited Padma Patil, and Ron, spent their days playing chess and eating sweets.

"Why didn't he invited me earlier? Your brother is a real idiot!" exclaimed Hermione, turning to Ginny while they were having breakfast on Christmas day. She was one of the few who knew that Krum had invited her to the Ball and had made her swear not to tell anyone, because, in case she changed her mind, she didn't want Viktor to look like a fool. Obviously she too had been a fool not to accept Fred’s proposal, especially because she had studied that plan just in case he had invited her after she agreed to go with Viktor, yet last moment she had failed to disappoint her partner and perhaps she even wanted to make him go to the Ball alone, as a lesson, instead he had invited Angelina, who was beautiful, talented, funny and at least another dozen adjectives that Hermione would’ve never used to describe herself.

"Do you think they'll start to date?" Ginny asked, and although Hermione didn't know if she was referring to Fred and Angelina or Harry and Padma, the answer was still no, or at least she hoped.

"What if they kiss?" Ginny asked in horror. Hermione didn't even want to think about it. She could hardly not relive the World Cup’s event before going to bed, she couldn’t believe he could do the same with another girl.

"You all know that I would’ve preferred if George had invited me, right?" Angeina had said during the sumptuous lunch, surprising everyone except Alicia. No, Hermione had never suspected that outgoing-Angie might like the quieter twin, but now that she knew it she couldn't believe she didn't realize it sooner. In the afternoon the four girls went out with the twins, Harry and Ron to play snowball, even if Hermione had never done it before, although it wasn't as strange as they wanted it to look, since she had no siblings, unlike Ginny and Ron, and physical violence didn’t suit her, though the same couldn’t be said by those who played Quidditch. So they split into two apparently fair teams, made up by the twins, who choose Hermione and Angelina, while Harry and Ron had to settle for Ginny and Alicia. She wasn’t aware the fight had started until something wet and cold hit the back of her head and slid down into her cloak’s collar. She scooped up a handful of snow but she had no time to transform it into a ball that her target had already disappeared among the trees, although Fred avenged her a moment later, throwing another snowball that disappeared with a wet splat and a muffled curse, revealing that her attacker had been Ron. Ginny popped out from behind another tree, grinning broadly as she hit George before disappearing again.

“Is magic allowed?” Hermione asked, searching for her wand.

“Of course!” exclaimed Fred, waving his, and a few snowballs began to lob themselves at Harry. When the boy tried to fight back, Hermione also waved her wand and the snow in front of them formed a small wall that protected them from all the attacks. Fred's jaw dropped but he quickly lowered behind the wall to shelter himself from Alicia's deadly attacks.

"That's it, Spinnet, you’re going down!" Angelina exclaimed, aiming her wand at the trees. The snow that fell as easily as if she had shook them herself transfigured into at least ten ball, but the other girl countered directing them at her friend, that tried to dodge them with extreme agility, though she was hit enough times to get her hair wet.

"I withdraw!" she exclaimed, and so did Ginny and Alicia. Hermione, on the other hand, was enjoying herself too much to leave right now, so she moved into Harry’s team  and they started all over again. The snowball struck her on her left shoulder, sending up a white spray onto her face. She blinked the worst of it out of her eyes and whirled to see Fred grinning cheekily at her from a good twenty yards away across the courtyard.

"Oh no you don't," she called out, scooping up her own handful of snow to hurl back at him. The boy dodged and made fun of her for having missed him. Their fight took them more toward the lake, as they run and jumped and weaved to avoid each other’s snowy missiles. Breathless with laughter and exertion, Hermione had almost caught up to Fred and was about to hurl her next snowball when he turned and hit her on the nose. With a muffled yell she slipped, lost her footing, and fell over.

"You all right?" Fred asked, running up, looking concerned. Using the hand on the opposite side from him, she scooped up some snow, and before he could run away, she washed his face with it. Fred spluttered and protested jokingly and Hermione, on pure impulse, kissed him. She didn't care that from there the whole Durmstrang delegation could see her, nor that she would be late for the Ball if she didn't hurry to get ready: the only thing that upset her was the possibility that Fred was no longer interested in her, that he had considered what had almost happened at the World Cup a mistake. So she pulled away quickly, fearing to see shock or even disgust on his face, but instead met a pair of pleased and a little surprised eyes. Then Fred pulled her down again and kissed her back, before letting go with an embarrassed sort of laugh.

"I've wanted to do that for ages."

Hermione laughed a little as well. "Me too."

[flannelpunkcalum]

The Devil Wears Kevlar - Part 9

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 

why could I be putting a gif of Cal with a skull on his face up??? does Aspen die from a loss of ear blood??? scroll on, gentle reader, and soon all will be revealed. I will say real quick this chapter does have a content warning for violence again so consider yourself warned!! ok bye I hope you love it!!!

Aspen didn’t know what was going on for a few seconds, which is a very long time when you are bleeding and tied down and cold. The dark figure who had come through the gaping window wasn’t alone; little black birds seemed to follow him in, and now they were swarming the room, making the air rustle around her. The man, Angelo, who had been cutting her ear off, she heard him swear, and the black figure charged him. They both ran into the chaos of the room behind her, so Aspen tried again to take stock of what was in front of her.

Don Falcone was on the floor. When had that happened? Through the swirling of wings around her, Aspen could see one of the little animals clinging to his skin. No. She saw the glint of metal in the floodlights. Not an animal. A little robot. Some drone. And not a bird -

“Aspen.” The Batman says, standing over her. She had forgotten Gotham had a Batman. He reaches out, and she doesn’t flinch as he cups her face, dark gloves wiping at tears and blood. “You’re safe now. I’m gonna get you out of here.” He says, but even as he does he turns her head to look at her injuries. He runs his thumb over the cut on her face - under his touch, she can feel the edges of it. So that’s what happened when the knife slipped. He doesn’t touch her ear, thankfully, but that’s how she knows it’s bad.

She should thank him. He saved her life, she should thank him. “I didn’t think anyone was gonna find me.” She said instead, finding his eyes through the mask.

He breaks her gaze almost immediately. “I’m gonna get you out of this chair.” The Batman says, and he lets go of her and moves behind her. He does something with the chains - something that sparks, she can feel it on the backs of her legs and her arms each time before she hears metal hit the floor and feels a little freer. When her wrists are freed last she stands up, even though she stumbles immediately as blood flows back through her. “Careful,” the Batman says, sounding vaguely annoyed, and he reaches out to steady her at the waist. “Come on. We’re going back out the window.”

“What?”

He’s walking her, rushing now, half-carrying her to his unconventional entrance every time she stumbles. “You’re not going to fall, but if you do, I’ll catch you.”

“I’m - wait, wait -” Aspen says, trying to touch her face to assess the damage.

The Batman doesn’t stop. “I’m not waiting until Falcone and his gang come to. Hold on to me. Ready?”

Aspen’s not looking at him. She’s looking back into the half-built room, where she can count three bodies on the floor. Limp bodies. What exactly had happened? The Batman’s got no patience for that; he’s grabbing her arms, throwing them around his neck until she grabs her own wrist with a cold hand for purchase. One of his arms wraps tight around her waist, where she can feel the hard edges of body armor jut into her back. With the other arm, the Batman reaches out into the space above the city and shoots out some kind of line. She can feel his body jerk with it as it connects to something out in the darkness. His grip on her tightens. “Don’t look down, okay?”

She doesn’t have a second to react as the Batman steps out over the edge and pulls her with him, falling through the air for a stomach-churning second before whatever he’s using kicks in and starts to haul them up in a parabola towards another skyscraper. She can’t look. Aspen’s not afraid of heights, she’s been rock climbing before. But now she knows she is distinctly untethered, and she clings a little harder to the man who saved her life. His armour digs into her skin, but at least this way she knows she’s still safe.

She almost died this way five minutes ago. It’s a chillingly clear thought, even as her stomach turns from vertigo.

She tries not to scream as they stop moving, suddenly. It takes her a whole second to realize that they’re stopped on a rooftop. The little bats have come with them, she notices once she unburries her head from the Batman’s chest. They seem almost friendly now, and they routinely swoop in near her, like they’re curious.

“Alright?” The Batman says. She tries to meet his eyes, but it’s dark and windy and he’s got this stupid pointy mask on. She just nods, and digs her fingers into the ridges of his armour. “Good.” He says. “I’m going to take you to a police officer, he’ll get you to a hospital. It’s just a little further.”

Aspen swallowed hard. Hearing that didn’t help her catch her breath. “And this is the only way to get there?”

“You’re bleeding.” He says. “Hold tight.”

There is apparently no room for argument on that rooftop.

The trip to safety feels so long, jerking from building to building and sometimes going into free fall in midair as the Batman grapples her home. She doesn’t open her eyes again. The wind whistling past her ear was starting to sting - she could feel the blood trickling down towards the back of her neck, tangling with her hair because of the wind. She’d been shaking with adrenaline for so long, her body was finally starting to realize it was hurt. She couldn’t open her eyes from the wind, couldn’t hear over the wind, so she had to just cling in free-fall and feel it all. The arm around her waist wasn’t enough to soothe all this.

After one long, long drop that almost makes her bite through her lip, they drop to the cold cement of the sidewalk and the grappling gun retracted for the last time. One of the bats hovers in her face, chirping at her mechanically when she opens her eyes. She smiles despite herself. She’s totally distracted until she feels the Batman’s voice vibrating through his chest, even through the body armour. “Put your weapons down.”

When Aspen looks up and squints through the flashlights pointed at them, she sees the hollows of a gun and for a second she clings even tighter. “Wait,” she says, hearing Falcone in her head, I am the police. If these are dirty cops, she’ll be back in that chair in a few minutes. She can’t take that a second time. She’ll break and then she’ll die.

“Engage offensive mode.” She’s close enough to hear the Batman say, and in an instant the storm of bats surrounding them centres in on the officers in front of them and goes sharp, feels like a cyclone. She hears a few startled cries in the darkness, and the guns must be put down because he says “Stand down” to the bats, and he turns so less of his body is shielding her.

“Alright, let’s get you out of here - shit.” One of the two cops reaches for her - and the second she flinched, the bat in front of her darted at his outstretched hand and she heard electricity. The Batman chuckles beside her as the officer rubs his hand, swearing almost under his breath. “Jesus.”

“You’re gonna be alright.” The caped crusader says, turning to her. His arm didn’t leave her waist.

“Falcone said -”

“I have it on good authority that these men are clean. Trust me.” And another night Aspen might have protested, but he had just grappling-hooked her over the chasms between buildings. Compared to that, a ride in a squad car could be bearable, right? She nodded hesitantly, and she could have sworn the corner of the Batman’s mouth twitched up. “Good. Stay out of trouble in the future.”

Oh. They were saying goodbye. Aspen blinks. Somehow, it feels too soon. “Thank you.” She says. She has to search for the words - she thanks the barista for Calum’s coffee every morning, and the Batman just saved her life. There’s gotta be something else she can say.

“It’s my job.” He replies, and after a long, long moment he steps back and she hears the grapple gun go off - it’s surprisingly quiet when she’s not in his arms - and then he’s gone. She catches a glimpse of him against the night sky, just one last look; him and the mobile cloud of bats around him.

Wait.

“Autonomous swarm.”

“What?” The cop says. He hasn’t tried to grab her, not this time.

Autonomous swarm. “Nothing.” She says, closing her eyes for a second to try and keep the image of him - the Batman - on her eyelids. Even that’s disappeared after a second.

But she knows what she saw. She knows that mouth, those lips, better than she should. She’s heard that voice - or a voice a lot like that one - from gruff-sounding mornings where she had assumed he was hungover. She knows that tech, goddamn it, if nothing else. She feels dizzy, and this time it’s not just the blood loss. It’s shock, medical or not.

Looking back, she doesn’t know why she doesn’t say something stupid in front of the cop. Maybe it’s just that it’s been a night full of keeping her mouth shut. Holding her tongue for safekeeping. She needs to get it together. Just for a little while. She’s never been an actress, but she’s already been forced into the role the innocent victim. She can play that a little longer. “I’m sorry. I have to go to the hospital.” She says, turning to the officer. “I’m losing blood.” Maybe he’ll take it as an excuse for her hesitance.

The officer’s face softens. Fuck, she must really look bad. “I have gauze for you in my car. We’re four minutes away from Gotham General. Don’t worry,” he says, giving her a smile before he opens the car door.

“First time seeing the bat?” His partner asks under the sirens on the drive there.

Aspen almost laughs. In the red and blue, she can see fingerprints of blood on her arm, glistening there. With the hand that’s not soaking up blood, she lays a finger on the mark. It’s big, bigger than hers. “I think so.” She says, after a moment.

“Get used to it. He’s been busier than ever, these past few weeks.” He smiles at her in the rearview. She grins to herself in the back, and tries not to feel the edges of her wounds through the cloth.

She’s quiet for the rest of the ride. He had known her goddamn name back there, and she hadn’t blinked, wouldn’t have noticed if not for - if she hadn’t noticed those bats - and then he just left her there, with the cops - and she had thought that he could be mixed up in the other side of it, killing men off - god, no wonder he was so stressed all the time. Jesus.

The emergency room is fine. She’s been there before. The wound at her ear is shallow enough to be stitched up, no surgery required, thank god. It’s hard to get the needle through the cartilage there - the doctor says the knife must have been sharp. “It was.” Aspen says, and she hears it detached, almost cool. She’s trying to think, but it’s hard when she’s so numb, and not just from lidocaine.

Her mind’s not on her fucked up ear. The second they told her it would heal and she’d keep her hearing, the second the freezing injection kicked in, she forgot about it. It’s not her face, either. Another surgeon takes a quick look at it, but that sharp knife saved her this time. The edges are clean. Maybe that makes her lucky.

But anyway, that’s nothing. They stitch her up there too, sutures running under the skin like a secret, closing the slash that runs along her cheekbone until just under the outside corner of her eye until it almost looks like a pursed little mouth. But anyway, her mind’s not on that. It’s on the Batman, and autonomous swarms, and suits, and cars, and nicks from shaving, and everything else she’s seen over these few weeks. It’s on Calum Hood.

She allows herself the luxury of thinking it, letting the full phrase form in her mind.

Calum Hood is the Batman.

She can barely think it with a straight face. Like, seriously, what the fuck?

The officers from the ride over are nice to her, when they come back in to take her statement. Of course, she doesn’t tell them everything she knows. Just about Don Falcone, Liam, the questions they asked, and the man who almost butterflied her cheek. When she said Angelo, they exchanged looks. “You’re very lucky, you know that? They only use his real name when they think the vic - uh, the victim won’t be leaving.” It’s not reassuring. She’s a girl who knows too many names now. True names. Like in old fairy stories. They’re supposed to give you power.

Ha.

She uses her new traction as a frail and injured witness to get herself a cup of coffee before the cops leave her again. She can’t afford to get delirious tonight.

The officer she spoke to on the phone that morning - that morning? Jesus - comes to see her personally, and that Officer Gordon asks her a few more questions in a soft voice while another officer swabs under her nails in case she brought any bits of Liam with her after their fight in the parking garage. The analyst is going to put it to the front of the queue, he tells her, it’s what they do in all the Bat’s cases. She just nods, playing shell-shocked. Well. Playing might not be the best word. Does he know? Does Officer Gordon call Calum Hood, or does he call the Batman? Which did she connect that morning?

“Wait, did you find my phone? Can I - I should call my mom, oh my god.” She almost died back there, she’s sure of it, and she had been meaning to call her mom like three days before the gala and then she forgot - she almost didn’t get to talk to her mom again in her life. Oh my god.

“Hang on. Deep breaths, you’re alright.” Officer Gordon has such a good voice for calming people down. “We found your phone. Unfortunately, it is currently being processed for evidence, but you can use mine to call your mother if you know her number off by heart.”

Aspen forces herself to take a deep breath, like he said. “That would be amazing. Thank you so much.”

Gordon gives her a smile and his cell phone, and steps outside the curtain around the bed so she has a little privacy.

Telling this whole thing again - again - Aspen knows she’s going to break down. Might as well get it over with. She plugs in the number and brings the phone to her good ear. It’s probably way too late for her mom to pick up - yeah, she gets answering machine. “Hi mom.” She has to pause to catch her breath. “Um, I have some news for you. And it’s kind of bad. But I’m fine now, so don’t freak out when you hear it, okay? My cell’s in evidence, it might be hard for me to get in contact with you after this. That sounds bad. I’m sorry. But I promise I’m okay. Um. I got a little kidnapped?”

She’s lucky the cut on her cheekbone isn’t longer. If she had cried directly on it she’s sure it would increase the risk of infection.

It’s the wee hours of the morning when she gets home. None of her roommates are up - fuck, she has to write a big announcement email, doesn’t she? Tell the folks back home about all her brand new scars. Aspen stays awake just long enough to bang out a few paragraphs about what happened, saving the details about organized crime, and she hesitates if she should be even talking about, you know... so in the end she holds back. She sends the email, collapses into bed, and for once is thankful that her phone is gone - no calls, no alarms.

Her roommates each wake her up, when they get up and hear the news. Mel cries and offers to stay home from work with her. Paige is in a rush that morning, but she gives her a hug and promises to bring dinner for them so they can relax as a house tonight. When she hears the front door close for the last time, Aspen gets up and slips a chair under her doorknob. She’s seen it work on TV, and her bedroom door doesn’t have a lock, so maybe it’s the next best thing. It helps her fall back asleep, at least.

It’s around two in the afternoon when she wakes up again, and she answers concerned emails in between bites of leftovers at the kitchen table. Calum sent her an email on her personal telling her not to worry about coming into work until she’s ready, which she appreciates.

She’ll be ready, alright.

If there’s one thing she knows how to do, it’s research, and there’s plenty out there for her if she’s willing to dig a little. She’s certain about the Bat’s identity, of course, she knows enough for that, but that’s different from evidence. So she finds evidence. The timeline, for one, is dead simple - the Batman makes his first confirmed appearance within the same week Hood Enterprises announced the prototype for a new material for body armour. The morning Calum had come in “hungover” with pissy, dark circles under his eyes (she wrote the date in her own daybook, a doodle of him angry in the margins, but now she’s glad she did) was just after a major fight by the wharf with some weapons smuggler that the Batman had tidily ended. And, even though it’s anecdotal, it’s true she’s only seen him “cut himself shaving” on the parts of his face a cowl wouldn’t cover.

It keeps blowing her mind, all of this, every time she hits on a new detail. Oh my god. Oh my god. She tries not to think about the kiss while she’s doing her reading, it’ll fuck with her scientific objectivity, but it feels almost as surreal as those electric bats. He pressed her up against a desk and kissed her and held her body like it hurt to let her go, and then he walked away, and then he must have heard later about what someone had caught on a security monitor, or called her cell, and it rang on the floor of the parking garage and no one picked up, and then he saved her and left bloody fingerprints on her and called it a night. How could he just - okay, okay, she’s getting worked up again.

She’s on edge the rest of the night, even though later her and her roommates eat pizza and watch Legally Blonde. She’s going to work Monday, she’s decided that. She’s going to be a good little PA and have Calum’s coffee ready at eight fucking thirty and she’s gonna pencil herself into a spot for a meeting with him and then they’ll see. They’ll just fucking see. He might have body armour but under her soft skin she’s fucking made of kevlar.

She’s feeling a little mad at him, she realizes. She’s pissed that he’s been hiding this from her the whole time, and then the audacity to kiss her and rescue her all in the same night - she was so close to the dark knight of Gotham this whole time and he yelled at her for being late for a meeting once. A meeting! And he was under gunfire every night! God. He was lucky she was so resilient.

She’s not sure if she has the right to be betrayed, but the one thing she does know is that she can help. She wants in. She doesn’t want to wear a bulky suit and fly around like that every night, but she’s smart, and she’s loyal as a dog, apparently, and he needs her. She can help him, if he’ll let her. And once she’s prepared her statement, he’ll let her.

She’s gonna make him regret every second he wasted her talents.

At least, that was the plan.