#Jesus now I remember why this used to be such a harder debate

[lafoiaveugle]

Christ, I hate being sick.

I've spent the last month or so waiting for today. Insurance approved it easily, I caught it before I needed too much prednisone.

Any then Redd got COVID. He's doing better, though I worry about him and long COVID. I don't think he gave it to me (I continuously tested negative at home) but it meant treatment had to be pushed back a week and a half.

I am fairly certain what happened overall is that I went from getting a 500 ml dose to 1000 ml dose and my body was not ready for that. I'll likely talk to my doctor about only doing 500 ml next time.

They couldn't get my veins to work. The first time or two was likely dehydration, then the rest was a panic attack. The super nice nurses told me I wasn't being the worst, gave me oxygen and let me blast Taylor Swift while tried to calm down. Once the IV was in, I fell asleep almost instantly.

At some point I woke up, and the nurse confirmed she would turn up the speed on the IV now that I had been in and out for 90 minutes. It was uncomfortable, but not the worse.

Until it was the worse. I nearly passed out, needing oxygen again. It doesn't help that I have this cough and sinus whatever. I felt like I Was going to throw up, pass out, jump out of my skin....I dunno.

I ended up throwing up towards the end. I am exhausted, achy, sick, though I am keeping food down.

Fuck my body so much.

[otp-holic]

Will this be the night? (ALSO IN A03)

A random piece of online advertising unleashes some movie memories of a Summer afternoon in 1932

1.5 Ks Fanfic + Pictures Inside. Part of the Never let us lose what we have gained series (AO3) Silly drabble born from my love of classic movies... that ended up not having anything to do with classic movies.

BROOKLYN'S KING'S THEATRE

Poster for Cary Grant's Retrospective. Printed paper 2025.

A poster for the upcoming month long celebration of the movies of Cary Grant to be held in Brooklyn.

Bucky is not expecting a vivid memory of the past to jump at him from a piece of online location-targeted promotion popping on his phone as he and Steve are wandering around the neighborhood on a random Friday.

But the 21st century works in mysterious ways and Google is kindly inviting him to check “Cary Grant: A Celebration”, a month-long chronological retrospective of all his movies taking place at a nearby hipster cinema starting… in half an hour.

He beams as a long string of memories of the both of them in different afternoons and movies plays in his head; how they counted the cents for the admission price, and how Bucky learned to sneak into the movie every time that did not add up to two full tickets.

“Buck, you’ve been smiling at your phone in silence for a whole minute,” Steve interrupts his daydreaming. “Should I be jealous? Worried?”

“Sorry,” he answers, still smiling about the memories. “I think I’m leaving you for Google, they see inside my one hundred years old soul; But I might give you another chance if you don’t mind a change of plans for the afternoon.”

“Lead the way, but can you give me some heads up?” Steve chuckles, more than used to Bucky’s ways.

He takes Steve’s hand to direct them towards the movie theatre and thinks about how much information he wants to share.

Although he is the one who still relies on the comfort of 30s and 40s movies whereas Steve keeps getting bolder with his options, Steve has always loved Cary Grant and Bucky thinks he’s going to appreciate his choice since this particular movie has a history (sad history, maybe) for them, so he debates on whether to tell him or not.

“We are going to the movies. But the real ones, not that shit on Netflix you keep choosing,” he settles for half-disclosure.

“Damn, mister life in black and white strikes again. Embrace the 21st century, Barnes, I think you’ll like it!”, Steve laughs.

“Hey, I embrace it more than you do! At least I look the part of a mid-thirties man from it instead of a fifty-year-old hiding in fucking khakis. Albeit a very hot one, I’ll give you that.”

They both laugh. It’s not the first time these remarks fly between them and having a routine, running jokes, and running pet peeves is very soothing after everything they have gone through.

They’re getting closer to the cinema now, and Bucky can already see the Billboard announcing the retrospective and a small queue forming upfront. He takes a side look at Steve to see if he has noticed and he can certainly tell that his curiosity has peaked.

“Surprise! Call it a win-win, it might be up my alley, but you used to love Cary Grant movies,” Bucky smiles as they reach their place in the queue and glance at the program for the afternoon.

‘This is the Night (1932)’, the poster says, ‘Cary Grant's feature film debut on the big screen’

Bucky is deep in nostalgia, remembering a summer day of 32 when they were waiting in line for the same film and how the evening turned out, but when he looks in search of his partner’s reaction, it’s not what he expected at all.

“Steve, you ok?” he asks, worried at seeing Steve frozen in place.

Steve nods. His whole face is deep red, but at least he is responsive. He looks ashamed and Bucky is shifting from worried to curious.

“Jesus, this movie,…” he chuckles now.

“You seem to remember, then. I thought you might.”

It was not a happy memory: Steve had felt really ill halfway through, looking white as a sheet of paper and about to die on Bucky. They had to leave the unfinished movie and run home, as per Steve’s request. But as far as Bucky remembers, nothing to be ashamed of.

“Why are you acting weird? Oh my god, Steven, are you allergic to this movie?”

The silence before Steve answers is a little too long and the queue moves forward.

“Shit, this is not easy to say and I’m sorry in advance.”

“Duly noted, but could you try to explain? I’m lost and I didn’t expect a full-on confession of something to be sorry about when I decided to follow Google’s intelligent advice to an unfinished movie. I just thought it was a good excuse for a change of plans. And kind of closure.”

Steve takes a breath and starts talking.

“I wasn’t honest with you, Buck. Back then…” he stops, searching for words, nervously musing on his beard. “Ah, I cannot believe this hasn’t come up at some point, but there it goes. I absolutely lied to you that day: I wasn’t sick or half dying and I am very very guilty of using my poor health to run away from that place and that movie, but I did the only thingI could think of.”

Bucky is at a loss for words, he’s still deciding if he is angry, curious, or somewhere in between.

“But… but you were feverish and white as a ghost and you said you had palpitations!”

Steve seems to think for a moment again and the bastard laughs so loud they get a curious look from the people behind. And taking advantage of the queue moving up again, he gets really really close to Bucky who honestly thinks he’s going to try to kiss himself out of the situation since it’s a bulletproof strategy.

But he doesn’t: He goes for Bucky’s ear instead, and whispers.

“I had a boner like you wouldn’t believe.”

Bucky gasps loudly totally taken aback while Steve takes a step back and looks at him in the eye more amused and hungry than ashamed, but still blushing.

“But hey, not all lies! I was somehow sick. And pale since my blood was… otherwise occupied. And I was barely 14!”

Bucky laughs at the dork. His dork. But the information is still making its way into his brain.

“Oh my God,” he exclaims as it starts to settle, “You piece of shit, you pulled the poor sick child card when you were just plain horny. I was worried to my bones as we run to your home. Shame on you Rogers!”

“Me? It was your fucking fault! Yours and Cary Grant’s and your stupid grins and stupid chins, those clefts!” he’s screaming in whispers so Steve Rogers’ teenage boner doesn’t make it to the news, but he’s talking as if he was pronouncing an important speech to the UN, “What was a 14-year-old in the fucking 30s popping one upon seeing an actor who kind of looked like a very tall version of his very male best friend to do?”

He is about to say something, but Steve literally covers his mouth with one hand giving Bucky no other option but to stick his tongue and lick the palm.

“Gross, Buck. I’m not done!”, he dries his hand on Buckys’ shirt before he goes on. “I’m not done because as I was still processing all that, you kept brushing your goddamned hand with mine when you went for popcorn! Over and over and over. It was torture. I have palpitations now just thinking about it.”

Bucky full-on laughs. One of those real ones that come more and more lately and that he honestly thought he would never get to experience again.

They have reached the box office, so he doesn’t push it further. For now.

“Two tickets for `This is the Night´, please.” Bucky smiles at the box-office guy. “He is paying, tho. I paid last time we tried to see this one and he didn’t have the decency to stay until the end.”

He actually feels like a teen as Steve takes his hand into the theatre, as he very intentionally buys popcorn to share, and as they start full-on making out on their seats during the commercials once the lights are out.

“Wanna know another secret, Buck?” Steve whispers a few minutes later, eyes on the starting movie as he brushes Bucky’s hand with intention over the popcorn bucket. His flustered face and recently kissed lips bathed by dancing lights and shadows coming from the screen. “It’s a good thing we were already together in ‘38 when “Bringing up baby” came out because I was able to plan ahead and lure you into that memorable window fuck at our old apartment before the show, or we would have totally missed one of our favorite movies, too.”

Bucky hates Steve with the force of the universe. Or maybe not, but he’s not playing clean.

“Raincheck on the movie?” he manages to whisper back as he drives Steve’s hand to his already noticeable hard-on. Two can play this game.

“Oh, poor Buck. Do you have palpitations” Steve chuckles, lips wet on Bucky’s ear and gripping harder on his bulge instead of letting go. “Was that the memory of the window fuck? Or all the making out? Tell me so I don’t do it again.”

“You are a punk, Steve Rogers,” Bucky answers before standing up to leave, closely followed by a smiling Steve.

Argh, sorry for deleting and uploading again, but i had technical issues with this.... so here it goes again. I need to free myself from this one!

[bastillewolf]

Kinda Sketchy (II)

Pairing: Corpse Husband / Reader

Request: “Can you do a part two of kinda sketchy where they slowly fall in love?”

Notes: Sorry this took me so long, but I had zero inspiration as the request left a lot of questions hahaha. Still fun to write, I hope you like it!

Tag list closed.

Chapter II

You’d fallen into a routine for a while. You’d do groceries, he’d do the dishes. You switched cooking, though it was also fine if neither of you felt like it, which is when you’d just order takeout or eat leftovers. But what seemed like the normal thing for two roommates to do on a spoken terms of agreement, it actually appeared you did those things for each other because you wanted to. You’d find some left over dishes in his room which you’d clean, and the next morning you’d find the forgotten tea on your nightstand already back in the cupboard. If you fell asleep working, reading, or watching something on TV, you’d somehow always end up in your bed even though you couldn’t remember getting up to get there yourself.

It had grown into this wonderful friendship between two people who had found it convenient to live together. You knew he could just as well live on his own now, knowing how big his YouTube channel had gotten within the time you’d first seen it up until now- in only a few months, at that. You’d asked him about it, but he’d simply brushed it off, saying it was easier for him this way. He wasn’t sure if he would ever do a face reveal, and having you go outside so he didn’t have to was a great bonus to the shared rent and company. It had hurt you slightly to hear him talk about it so plainly when you had already realized you were starting to feel more for him than you were supposed to.

It had started gradually, to be honest. You hadn’t noticed it at first. You simply took for granted all the times he jokingly bumped his shoulder into yours, or when he hugged you tight when he saw you needed it, or when he even kissed you on the cheek while having a debate with you on what a ‘chef’s kiss’ meant when you’d cooked a – if you may say so yourself – sublime meal.

But now, you had to miss all of those things. It seemed, when you agreed to his basic explanation of how easy it was for him with you living here in order to hide your disappointment, he’d seen it as a sign to stop doing all of those things for granted.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, please. But it’s just easier. I’ve gotten recognized before in a drive-through and I don’t want to go through that ever again,” he said.

You shook your head, even though your heart was plummeting down a set of stairs. “No, I completely get it. We’re roommates and it’s what we agreed upon. That’s it.”

“That’s it,” he repeated.

And that was it. The cups of leftover tea on your nightstand had started to form a fort, and you suddenly found yourself waking up on the couch in the middle of the night, feeling cold and grouchy as you realized you had to walk back to your bed. If you did sleep there until morning, you’d wake up from the sound of the coffee machine with a mumbled ‘sorry’ from your roommate, but other than that, he never said anything about it.

You’d wondered if he was angry with you. You’d even made a peace offering by cleaning up the mess in his room. Even that he didn’t mention.

So, one night while you were waiting on him at the table to show up for dinner, he didn’t come. He wasn’t in the apartment, he hadn’t texted you, he hadn’t left a note. He was nowhere to be found. Of course, you’d think something happened to him. You called Sykkuno first, and luckily you’d chosen exactly the right person.

“Oh, yeah! We’re playing Mario Kart, and he’s staying over. I thought he’d told you?” he said.

“Eh, no, he didn’t,” you replied, rubbing your eyes. “It’s fine. You guys have fun.”

“Thanks! You should come next time too, if you’re not too busy. Corpse told me how much work keeps you up.”

“He did?” you ask, sounding as monotone as could be.

“Yeah, but I think it’s just because he doesn’t want you to meet us yet. We kinda make a crazy first impression on everyone, and I’m pretty sure he wants us to be on our best behaviour when you come over… He- He does talk about you, a lot.”

“He… what?”

“Rae started teasing him about it, but then he brushed it off saying he’d never cheat on me, which is kind of weird considering we aren’t-“

“What did he say about me?” For a moment you felt guilty cutting him off, but your curiosity and heart got the better of you and Thomas didn’t really seem to mind.

“Oh, you know, how you’ve been taking care of him more than he’s ever taken care of himself. I thought it was kind of sad, but he talked about it pretty fondly. Rae caught a hint of that and started asking very personal questions, like what’s going on between the two of you, and then he stopped. I think he just doesn’t want to throw things out there, you know? I think he- Oh, here he is now! Do you want to me to hand you over?”

“No. Thanks, Thomas.” You’d quickly ended the call, but it seemed to late when you’d still heard him ask with that raspy voice of his, “Who are you talking to?”.

So, you ended up eating your dinner alone. He didn’t come home until after midnight, when you were still sitting at the same table, this time with your laptop in front of you doing some last bits of work so you wouldn’t end up falling asleep on the couch again.

You didn’t even turn around when you heard him walk in. He seemed to even hesitate for a moment, judging by his footsteps, before he said ‘hey’. You muttered it back, pretending to be engrossed in your work.

He grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water, before leaning back against the counter, his face turned to you. “You know, maybe you should just work in bed. I highly doubt falling asleep with your face smashed against the keyboard is very comfortable.”

You suddenly stopped typing, leaned your elbows against the table and linked your fingers together, looking him dead in the eye. “Maybe I want to feel the pain in my back as a punishment knowing I fell asleep like this again.”

“Fair enough,” he sighed.

You let a silence linger just a bit longer, before you continued typing and said, “You could’ve told me where you were.”

He was probably staring at you, but you still pointedly ignored him. “I didn’t know that was in our arrangement.”

“Well, I didn’t know our arrangement was that unpersonal to you. Seems like all I am is someone who just gets your groceries for you.” It was a low blow. But you just needed to make him feel the stabbing, the way he stabbed you.

“Jesus, I told you not to take that personally. That’s not what I meant at all,” he said.

“I didn’t take it personally until you thought that conversation was enough to start ignoring me,” you lied.

“I think you know just as well as I do why I’m keeping my distance.”

You met his eyes. Nothing you could see in there, besides the frustration, gave you any answers. You couldn’t help it, you were glaring back at him just as hard even though all you could feel right now was confusion. He shook his head and sighed.

“Maybe it’s time this agreement ends.”

The thought had crossed both your minds, but he was the one who had said it out loud. And probably stung harder for you than it would have for him if you’d cut the cord. He left you sitting there, with tears now blurring your vision, slamming the door behind him for good measure.

***

He wasn’t home again. It gave you the perfect opportunity to quickly pack the rest of your shit up and leave, quietly. A cowardly move, perhaps, but you knew you didn’t have it in you to face him for this. You still hadn’t found a new place yet, since everything in Cali was way too fucking expensive and most ads looking for a roommate even sketchier than the one from Corpse you’d replied to. One of your friends had come to your aid, however, so you had at least a temporary place to say without having to suffer in this tension any longer.

You were just shoving the last of your books in a cardboard box when your phone rang. It was Thomas.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Uh… well, I was wondering if you could tell us that…” Sykkuno hesitantly asked.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh- give me the phone-“ “Hey!” there was an evident struggle, before Rae was suddenly talking to you, clearly having ripped the device from Thomas’ hands.

“Corpse is acting all weird! We know something happened between the two of you, but he doesn’t wanna talk about it! It’s like he’s gone back to his brooding old self and I’m worried! So you better start talking!”

“Unless it wasn’t your fault-“ you heard Thomas call out. He was quickly shushed by Rae.

“There’s nothing to say. He made it very clear that our living arrangement was just that; an arrangement, and he stopped talking to me. I confronted him about it, he started saying vague shit and asked me to move out.”

“Wait, what did he say?! I need specifics!” “Rae talks Corpse language, apparently,” you heard Toast mumble in the background.

“He said ‘I think you know just as well as I do why I’m keeping my distance’,” you imitated, your voice not nearly going as low as his.

“Wait, what?”

“I think he just figured out I have feelings for him. I understand how he wouldn’t want to be friends anymore.”

“Oh my god, you’re both such idio-!“

The call ended before you could hear the rest of Rae’s frustration. You shrugged it off, understanding why she would be mad at you by upsetting Corpse. He was her friend first and foremost, after all.

You stuffed your clothes in garbage bags, tied them up and pushed all of it into the living room. You’d dusted, vacuumed, and taken the bedsheets off. While balling all of the laundry up in your arms, you heard the door open. You immediately froze.

Footsteps were coming closer. Maybe if you didn’t move he would think you weren’t here. You didn’t want to do this. You didn’t want to see that he didn’t care. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your hands were wringing the fabric of the bedsheets. God, you should’ve packed quicker. You shouldn’t have been so organized, you should’ve just shoved everything in a few boxes altogether and made a break for it. You should’ve.

He was at your door opening. The footsteps had stopped. You still had your back turned to him.

Just keep walking. Please, just keep walking, you pleaded, closing your eyes. Waiting for the final blow.

However, it didn’t seem to land. Not anywhere near you, at least.

You simply heard his breathing, which seemed more erratic than usual, but perhaps you were just imagining things. Please, just keep walking. Please, I can’t-

“Please don’t go,” he rasped.

Your brows furrowed. If anything, your eyes squeezed shut even tighter. He had to be joking with you.

But then he said your name, pleadingly. He stepped behind you, and you could feel his warm breath against your neck. “Please don’t go. I don’t want you to go.”

“I think you do,” you tried to convince him, as well as yourself.

His hands found his way around your waist and across your stomach until his chest was flush against your back. “No, I don’t.”

Your hands felt numb, so numb you barely noticed them dropping the bedsheets. He turned you around slowly, and you opened your eyes.

“I… heard what you said to Rae.”

“Oh.”

You watched as he leaned in, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. You didn’t stop him- of course you didn’t want him to. His lips pressed against yours gently, in a question, which you responded to. It was still laced with a certain hesitance, but not one strong enough to make either of you want to pull back. It was tingly, warm, and comfortable as the stress of the past few days came washing over you.

He smiled shyly as he pulled back. “I’m sorry. I thought you knew about how I felt.”

“I’m sorry too. I think we need to set up some things in our agreement about communication.”

“Please, no more fucking agreements. I think Rae would definitely kill us.” You both laughed.

TAG LIST CLOSED!

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[so-writing]

Sugar, Honey, Ice and Tea - Matthew Tkachuk (10)

I posted a different part 10 a few days ago and hated it so I got rid of it and started over. This feels better, minimal editing though because I suck but you knew that, Enjoy!

all parts in the master list

--

The surge of confidence that had you messaging Brady Tkachuk on Instagram failed to remember what the bio section of your instagram read.

Your name.

Flames over everything,

Calgary or bust.

Of course he didn’t respond to your message, of course he told Matthew about it and, of course you had to deal with the wrath of the oldest Tkachuk.

You allowed yourself to sleep in late on the first day off you’d had in a while. Fully waking up at close to noon felt great, until you unlocked your phone.

You hit up my little brother? My brother? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me

Wake up and take responsibility asshole

You’re a fucking piece of shit

It probably pretty stupid of you to message Brady, knowing that Matthew would eventually find out at some point but this was just a little bit too aggressive for doing something as innocent as sliding into a stranger’s dms.

Having dealt with Matthew’s bullshit for far too many days in a row, you decided to ignore his messages. You searched for Brady’s name and sent another message, purely to fuck with Matthew.

Big brother is mad, gonna have to start DMing you even harder now!

That message got a response only a few minutes later, he really dislikes you that much, huh? Whatever you’re doing, keep that shit up.

You chuckled at his response before dropping your phone on the bedside table and heading for the shower to get your day started. 

++

Grocery shopping was the absolute bane of your existence. Children running wild, people standing in the middle of the aisle as they debated their choice of cereal entirely too long and people not knowing how to use the self checkout were only a few of the reasons why you started getting your groceries delivered years ago but it wasn’t an option today. 

Today you were going to have to venture into one of your versions of hell because there was no immediate availability for delivery you and needed to replenish your refrigerator. It was still pretty early and the parking lot was looking sparse so you felt slightly confident that the trip wouldn’t be too bad as you made your way inside with your list and grabbed a basket. 

It was going to be a quick trip, you were only there to get the essentials that would you get you through the day and you would place your bigger order for delivery for tomorrow. 

As you made your way toward the fruit and vegetable outer aisle, you caught sight of red curls and when you confirmed your suspicion, your stomach jumped into your throat.

He was the last person you wanted to see on your day off, but here he was, fucking Matthew Tkachuk was at the same grocery store at the same damn time you were and clearly he was also there to get the same fucking fruit—strawberries—you wanted too. 

You watched him as his eyes surveyed the plastic cartons, occasionally he’d pick one up and examine it before putting it back with the rest, and fuck, he was taking forever. 

“Jesus Christ, they’re all basically the fucking same, just grab a box and go.” 

Surprise lit up his features until he looked in your direction and realized who was talking to him and that surprised look grew into annoyance. 

“Shut up.”

“Fine, I’m not in the mood to deal with you anyway.”

You hurried over and stood right beside him, making sure to elbow him in the arm as you grabbed a carton of strawberries and threw it in your basket.

“There’s a bunch of mold on those but enjoy that I guess.” 

He didn’t look at you, continuing his seemingly endless quest to find the perfect bunch of berries. 

Thoroughly annoyed, you checked the box yourself and realized that he was right, there was a decent amount of mold on the fruit in the bottom left corner of the box. 

You had no idea what came over you or why you did what you did.

But you did it.

“Whatever, I don’t need them anyway,” you spat as you chucked the carton at Matthew as hard as you could. 

He wasn’t facing you and it hit him in the shoulder and neck area but the flimsy plastic broke and the box opened, sending strawberries flying everywhere. Some hit the side of his face, but most of them landed on the floor and also broke open, making quite a mess. 

“Holy shit,” you whispered in shock at your own actions, “holy shit.” 

“What the fuck?! Where the fuck are you going?!” 

You dropped your basket on the ground and speed walked away from him, toward the exit, as quickly as you could. It felt like you didn’t take a breath until you were out of the grocery store and in your car, slowly turning on the ignition and backing out of your parking spot with nothing in hand. 

*

He looked fucking ridiculous and he knew it. 

She had fucking bolted after pelting a carton of strawberries at his face and now he was alone with a mess. People were avoiding eye contact and he was standing there like a stupid fucking idiot with strawberry juice dripping down his cheek. 

“Sir,” an employee approached him, “are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just,” he wiped his cheek, “i’m fine.”

“Some other customers reported it, and she was gone by the time we realized what happened. Your groceries are on us today, for the inconvenience.”

“Not your fault or your problem, I’m happy to pay for my stuff. I just kind of want to walk away from this,” he motioned to the mess around him.

“Of course, finish your shopping trip, we’ll clean this up.” 

“Thank you.” 

What the fuck just happened? It was supposed to be an easy day off. All he needed was a single carton of fucking strawberries.

*

Not cool, hated one. Wish I would’ve seen it, it was probably funny as hell

The text was from a number you didn’t realize but you had a feeling who the sender might be. 

It was, you responded, you probably shouldn’t be fraternizing with the enemy though, he’d hate that.

Who cares? This is highly entertaining and I’m not even there

I really just tried to enjoy my day off and there he fucking was. 

He’s good at popping up when no one wants it, it’s kind of his thing

You were settled into your couch, casually texting Brady, when someone began pounding at your door and, once again, you had a feeling who the sender—knocker in this case—might be. 

Looking through the peephole, you noticed that Matthew’s hair appeared to be wet, probably because you exploded a carton of strawberries on him but whatever, you hesitantly cracked the door. 

“It’s bullshit that Brady is finding my misery with your annoying ass so amusing,” he didn’t bother looking at you through the small crack, “he’s really fucking loving this.”

“I wasn’t really intending for him to get humor out of our messages,” you opened the door all the way, “but it still works I guess.”

“The strawberry thing was not cool,” he turned his irritatingly lovely blue eyes on yours, “at all.”

“I know.” 

“Messaging my brother on Instagram with shitty intentions wasn’t cool either.”

“I know,” you repeated and he rolled his eyes as he pushed off the wall next to your door and headed toward the elevator. 

“You’re so fucking hot and cold with me, I don’t know how to deal with it,” you shouted at his back. 

“Yeah,” he turned his head slightly and ran a hand through his curls, “I don’t know how to deal with it either.” 

Matthew didn’t look back at you as the elevator doors closed and took him back up to his apartment while you stood outside your front door feeling irritated and, once again, completely fucking confused by Matthew fucking Tkachuk and his fence sitting behavior.

[neonponders]

👀 👀 👀 👀  Oh jesus oh lord. Deeper Than Skin is finished so I’ll enable another wip.

@ghostofjellyfishforgotten I hope you don’t mind me using your tags on this vampire!Billy / blood donor!Steve post as inspiration! Your brain is just too big for me not to pass up an opportunity to write vampire shenanigans.

Read on ao3 ~

🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹

Steve didn’t judge people who worked as donors—

Fine, as an adult with a better awareness and compassion, Steve didn’t judge donors. He might’ve said some shitty things to Jonathan Byers when he worked to make his family extra money.

Honestly? Steve admired that. Jonathan being underage and having the guts to figure out how to get into the donation clinic, and then to let…

Steve knew he was a coward in a lot of ways. He knew it when he called Jonathan a queer who enjoyed leeches sucking on him. He knew it when he lost to the punches Byers threw. For a skinny, half empty blood bag, the guy could really hit. And Steve knew it when he almost ran away from Nancy and Jonathan fighting off the rogue vampire who kidnapped little Will Byers.

But Steve didn’t run away.

Just like he didn’t run away from the couch he sat on with his mother while his father explained…a situation that left Steve digging deeper and deeper into the gap between fear and bravery. Maybe call it disassociation. Or confused shock.

“You what?”

Harrington senior never took well to being interrupted. But he sighed from across the coffee table and reiterated, “The family is in debt.”

“No. You. You’re in debt. This is your problem.”

The man certainly didn’t take well to having his own mistakes shoved under his nose. “This isn’t for debate. This is the way things are and need to be.”

“No,” Steve repeated like a broken record clinging onto its song. “This is your fault. Who’s made me work minimum wage jobs to teach me a lesson? Who’s refused to pay for me to go to community college? Who hasn’t let me work in their company? And who made the shitty gambles with your company’s stocks? You shoved me out, so it’s definitely not my problem—”

“The contract has already been signed.”

Now his mother shifted her posture on the couch beside him. “Excuse me?”

Steve’s father moved his blunt nails over the armrest of his wingback, fidgeting. At least something put fear into the old bastard’s heart.

“There’s nothing I could do. The market has been evolving ever since vampires gained their rights and opened up their decades and centuries old bonds—”

“Vampire legislation passed over a century ago,” Mrs. Harrington purred. Sometimes the worst anger was the quiet kind. “You have no excuse. You lost the game, and you sold our son. Is that what we’re to believe?”

“That’s not possible,” Steve intercepted. “Slavery isn’t a thing anymore. Even I picked that up in history. And I would have to be there to sign the contract! It’s my—”

“Steve,” his father silenced. “When enough money is involved, anything is bought. And you’re not like anyone else.”

Mrs. Harrington fumed, “Do not talk to him like he’s a prize pony!”

“Except to a wealthy vampire, he is.”

Steve could only sit in weighted silence for a moment. He always joked to himself that he’d be disowned one of these days. For being a disappointment. For all of his bad grades. For giving his friends alcohol and cigarettes. For only being able to get jobs that required no qualifications or experience level at all. For discovering he liked kissing boys at the grimy music venues Robin took him to. Maybe living at home for too long. Or leaving the smell of burnt pancakes in the air too often because he always struggled with the first one—

“Vampire?” he croaked. For some reason it hadn’t dawned to him until now but…shit.

Holy shit.

Steve wasn’t being sold off to be some billionaire’s secretary for life. He was being…truly sold. Like…goodbye, Steve, who likes spring nights and summer mornings. His favorite food is breakfast and he wishes he kept with the music lessons his mom paid for instead of being peer pressured into sports. Whose best friend was Robin Buckley because she was brave and funny and stuck with him during his ironic and a little bit terrifying queer awakening…

Hello, Donor 0235. Blood type O. Allergic to nickel and checks off all vaccination requirements.

“Steve’s not wrong,” his mother echoed like a voice deep in a cave, drawing Steve out of his thoughts. “He is the one to sign the contract. Not you.”

“He is still classified as our dependent and on our insurance,” his father refused.

“So being an adult means nothing in this country?”

“They have our family records, Annette!” he exclaimed. “There is a dual government in this country even if nobody below upper-middle class sees it. The human government had to cede a great deal because the vampire population is massive. And they’ve kept track of all the Sanguis families! Name changes, and two World Wars did nothing to save us—”

“The what?” Steve all but whispered.

His mother rotated her hips to face him. “We only have legends about how it happened. Paleolithic gods making deals, vampires crossbreeding humans to make a certain kind of blood donor, human evolution after symbiotic deals were struck—but that doesn’t matter. The point is that there are people in this world with abilities that preserve themselves against vampires. That’s why you healed in less than two days after that silly fight by the movie theatre.”

His father intercepted, “The genes skipped your mother but fell to you.”

Steve’s eyes widened as his mother confirmed, “To protect us, girls have been promoted in the family tree for generations. Through marriage, their names could change, and make them harder to track.”

Steve countered toward his father, “So this really isn’t your place to sign my life away. Like five times over.”

“I quite agree,” his mother turned back to the man she’d married. The man who was supposed to protect her and her children with his name and promising, growing business.

At least Steve wasn’t the only failure in the family.

His father massaged his forehead and defended, “As I said. Humans’ government is far easier to corrupt our way into forgiving any debt. The vampires, however, are inconsolable. The bastard would have my business, the cars, our house, and taken his time discovering Steve on his own if I hadn’t—”

Steve took after his father, but he was his mother’s son as they both stood up from the couch, furious that this man had thrown his own kid under a vampire’s bus—

“Get out of the house, Steve.”

His head whipped around at her. “I-What?”

“Get out of the house,” she seethed, but not at him. “I don’t care where or what you do. Go.”

Steve didn’t need to be told twice but he hadn’t managed to grab his car keys or his shoes before the house and his ribcage trembled with his parents’ arguing. He went in his socks outside and put the shoes on in his car.

Then…he didn’t know where to go. Running the hell away seemed like the obvious solution, but if vampires really had such a network, what was the point? And if he left, what would happen to his mom?

Steve drove on autopilot to the video rental store. Robin. All he had was Robin, who took the lollipop out of her mouth when the bell on the door twittered. “Hey, dingus, it’s your day off—Steve?”

He couldn’t really remember driving. That probably should have raised more red flags than he already had, but for now, the black and neon carpeting of the Family Video was blurring and swirling…

“I’m gonna throw up,” he heard himself say.

And Robin in that distant, echoing cave his mother had spoken from, “Outside! STEVE!”

[lizzy-williams]

𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝙳𝚊𝚢 𝟸: 𝙱𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚐𝚎

🎃⌒👹⌒🎃⌒👹⌒🎃⌒👹⌒🎃

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚎, 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝, 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜, 𝚂𝙼𝚄𝚃

.  𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑪𝒓𝒚, 𝑽𝒂𝒔𝒕

kinktober masterlist

((THE JAWLINE THOOOOOOO ↡↡↡))

𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆...

𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑪𝒓𝒚, 𝑽𝒂𝒔𝒕

.��。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

God, she was beautiful. Everyday, same time, she’d wander her way into the coffee shop I worked at, always ordering the same thing. Unless she was having a bad day, then she would order black coffee. She’d always have a book with her, and she’d always go to the same spot. The chair on the left in front of the fireplace. 

Ever since she first walked in, she was the focus of my attention. She was so kind. She would always leave more than two dollars in the tip jar, and always used her manners, which was hard to find, especially in a fast paced community like Cleveland. 

Whenever she would find her way into the little shit-hole of a coffee shop, she would always find a way to suck all the air out of my lungs. The way she moved... the way she smiled. The way her lip would curl if she was concentrated on a book too hard. 

But sometimes, rarely, she would walk in with someone. He always held her a little too close, a little too hard. And the bright sparkles she would have in her eyes when she came in alone would disappear. But even if she didn’t look at me, tucked under his arm, I could always hear a faint ‘thank you’ fall from her lips when I would hand the coffee to her. 

He was bad for her. But how could I make her see that? But of course, like for everything else, I had a plan. A plan that had to work. 

The little bell above the door ringed and I glanced at the clock. 

7:30, on the dot. Just like clockwork.

She looked so beautiful. God, what I wouldn’t give to-

“Heyy, how are you doing?” I greeted, cheerfully, hoping she would return the energy. But she didn’t. 

“I’m fine.” she replied shortly. 

She had never spoken to me like this. And I didn’t like it. Not one bit.

“Just fine?” I kept up the act, hoping my irritation didn’t slip through my tone. 

She clutched her book tighter, obviously not wanting to talk. Communication was important to me, and this was obviously something we would need to work on after the plan was put into place. 

She wouldn’t even make eye contact with me. 

“So uh... What can I get you?” I asked, watching her small fingers mess with the sleeves of her sweater. I always noticed that was a tick that would happen if she became anxious. Or if she was around... him.

“Coffee. Black.” it was a short two worded command and it made my blood boil and if I were a cartoon, steam would most definitely be coming out of my ears, by face beet-red. 

She only ordered black coffee on her harder days, and it usually had something to do with him.

Her hair draped over her face, her beautiful fucking face. She usually had it tucked behind her cute little ear, which I always found completely adorable. Either that, or it was placed in a messy bun, a smile visible on her face. 

But today was a stark contrast. 

“Okay then, black it is. I’ll just take it to your usual spot...,” I muttered, my cheery tone obviously disintegrating with every word. 

She gave a single nod, going to her chair, a royal blue cushioned chair that the owner bought from an antique store. I had to admit, once I found out that she took a special liking to the chair, I took it home and fixed it up. All for her. 

My thoughts began to wander. What did he do this time. It always pissed me off that I had to refer to it as ‘this time’. It shouldn’t have happened at all. I don’t even know why she even looked that douchebag’s direction. 

I took the phone out of my pocket. Now was my chance to help her. To take her somewhere better. To take care of her. I placed in some sugar into her coffee., turning my head to see if her was looking. But she wasn’t. As always, she was enveloped in her book again, always in a world of her own. 

What that stupid bitch of a boyfriend didn’t know, was that he left his phone here. He bought a new one, of course, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t use it after the cell service was turned off. 

When I found the pictures, my world turned red. Message upon message of him flirting, and even a couple nudes. I hated him, I fucking hated him. 

But my plan? It had to work. 

I pressed the post button. 

I put the warm mixture into a cup, a blue mug, as it was her favorite color, and set the cup on a saucer, walking over to her, careful not to disturb her, part of me anxiously wanting to see if she had her lip curled in, her teeth scraping across the soft skin of her lips.

I lightly tapped her one the shoulder, making her jump. Usually, I would be obsessed with the fact I was able to touch her. But it would never make up for what I really wanted to do to her. 

She gave a soft smile before I set down the mixture on the table in front of her. I then sat down into the chair closest to her, leaning over, trying to catch a glimpse of the cover of her book. 

“So, what are you reading?” I asked gently, trying to start friendly conversation, hoping that would help. 

I’m not going to let him turn this into a dark coffee kind of day. I wouldn’t let him dictate how tonight went. This was supposed to be perfect. 

“A romance novel.” she answered plainly, giving a real, genuine smirk. 

If there was one thing in the world that could cheer my princess up, it was talking about books. Once, we had an hour long debate on which was better: Lord of the Flies or To Kill a Mockingbird. It always cheered her up, no matter what that bastard did to her. 

She picked up the mug, taking a small sip. She made a face. 

“I know it wasn’t what you ordered, but you look like you could use some sweetness in your life right now. I know you do,” I quipped, referring to the sugar I added last minute. 

I can read you like an open book. More than he ever could. 

I reached over, tucking her hair behind her ear gently, knowing that she wouldn’t pull away. If fact, she almost leaned into my touch, making my heart burst. 

As she reached her hand up, the sleeve of her seater dropped. And that’s when I saw it. A deep bruise, a hand shaped bruise was apparent on her arm. But once she noticed that I saw it, she pulled away, trying to cover it up. 

You don’t need to cover up around me, princess.

I grabbed her hand, looking at the deep purple of the bruise and I wanted to find the fucker right then and there and kill him. Slit his throat. And have the last thing he saw before he lost his life be my emotionless face as he-

“Colson, stop, you’re hurting me,” she cringed, trying to pull away from the now tight grip I had on her wrist. 

SHIT

“oh fuck, sorry, I... I really didn’t mean to, I’m so sorry,” I apologized profusely. 

Just like planned, her phone lit up, and she pulled her hand away, and I almost verbally whined at the loss of contact. 

She checked her phone, and she let out a small pathetic whimper. She almost dropped her phone. 

There, on the screen, was a post. An instagram post. Pictures of conversations, nudes, and other things. But I knew my girl would see it before it was taken down. But why would I care what happened to the account. 

Because it wasn’t my account to begin with. It was his. 

“Hey, is everything okay?” I asked. Now it was time for the real theatrics. My next choice of words could make or break the situation. 

“H-He... He-” She couldn’t get a word out, her words wavering. Her tears began to fall, and it killed me to see her like this, but it was necessary. It had to happen. 

“Come here,” I muttered, and she leaned into my embrace. My arms wrapped around her. 

Jesus fuck she smelled so good.

She leaned into me, crying into my chest, and I held her close. We sat there for what felt like eternity. Thank god the shop was empty. She always came when it was empty. 

I suddenly felt something against my neck 

I felt her plush lips against my neck. Soft, supple kisses against my throat almost sent me into a frenzy. 

I looked down at her, fake shock on my face, and she almost looked embarrassed. 

“S-Sorry... I just... I don’t know what I was-”

Stop talking.

I cut her off. I kissed her. And oh my god, I could have cum right then and there. It managed to be more perfect than any fantasy I had ever come up with prior. God... so perfect. How could anyone hurt something this beautiful, this precious.

I swiped my tongue across her pearly white teeth, requesting access into her mouth, and she thankfully complied. I wouldn’t want to take her by force after all. 

It was etherial. She tasted like peaches, and honey, and birthday cake. He scent enveloped me, and it took over my senses, making me want her more and more. 

My hands drifted up her sides, her arms wrapping around my neck. The kiss turned more heated once her small hands traveled up my stomach, under my shirt. 

I pulled back and smirked at her, “Are you sure you wanna start something you can’t finish?”

Returning the same energy, she muttered, “You know it,” before making a bold move, lips attaching to my jaw, a groan finding its way out of my mouth. 

She was so beautiful like this. She was exactly where she was supposed to be. And I was going to make sure she never thought otherwise. 

Let me praise you. Let me show you your worth. You won’t remember him. Ever. I’ll make sure of it.

I then picked her up, making her let out a playful squeal, and I gushed. She was so adorable. I carried her to the back room, setting her on a table in front of me. So pretty for me like this. 

I pulled out a rope from the corner of the storage room. I always had to be prepared after all. I was prepared for everything. Anything for my princess. 

I tied her wrists tight, making her whimper. But I knew she liked it. How could she not? I then took the remaining length of the rope, tying her up like a present. All for me. Just for me.

I gave her a quick peck to her lips, and I could tell she wanted to touch me, her ankle wrapping around one of my legs, in an attempt to pull me closer. 

“Heal me,” she whispered, her lips inches from mine. 

And heal her I would. 

I grazed my hands up and down her body, taking in every curve, every crevice. Every flaw. Flaw. There were no flaws on her. Not on my princess. She would never have a flaw. And I would make her believe it too. 

I did something barbaric. But something I’d always wanted to do. I ripped her shirt, the piece of clothing giving a sharp, satisfying tear. I marveled at her covered breasts. Even though the bra was in the way, her breasts looked beautiful. All pushed up and perfect for me. 

I then proceeded to strip the rest of her, soaking in the soft whimpers and noises that spilled from her lips. God, her lips. 

As soon as she was fully naked, I stood back and looked at her. She was the most stunning thing I had ever seen. A goddess among men. A being to precious for this Earth. 

I don’d deserve her. But I do at the same time. I had gone through so much shit in my life, I felt like this was God’s way of payment. And he didn’t disappoint. 

A needy whine pulled me from my thoughts, and I met her perfect gaze once again. 

“Colson, please. Please t-touch me,” she squirmed, and it was euphoric to hear my name roll off her tongue so easily. 

It was enough to make me crack, my body stalking towards her, my head buried in her neck, breathing her in, my hands finally going down where she needed me most. It was so nice to hear her breath hitch the way it did. 

My fingers dragged slowly though her folds, making her let out a needy and erotic mewl, her head leaning on my shoulder in turn. 

“You make such pretty noises,” I grumbled against her ear, making her buck her hips desperately towards my hand. 

If only she knew the ideas she had though my head. To her, I was just the friendly guy in the coffee shop she when to sometimes. But now I finally felt recognized and payed attention to. 

I slipped a finger into her tight cunt, making her whine, making blood flow south. Her noises really were amazing. 

I pumped at a fair speed, her forehead attached to my shoulder like it was glued. My fingers were in perfect sync to the bucking of her hips, and it made my painfully hard. 

After a few minutes of listening to her moan and whine as my fingers slid against her velvety walls, I wanted to be inside her. Make her feel more pleasure then she had ever felt. I was better the him. And I always fucking will be. 

How dare he touch my princess. How dare he hurt her. You treated her like a dog. Now I’ll treat her like a goddess.

I undid my belt, not even bothering to pull them down all the way, just enough so my cock could breathe, and I watched as she shifted her gaze towards it. To this day, I swear I saw her drooling. 

She really did want this, didn’t she?

I teased her, the tip running across her cunt, making her whimper in need. A need for me. Only me. I held her close, her head in the crook of my neck. 

I slowly pushed into her, leaving comforting kisses on her head. As soon as I was fully inside her, I watched as her face contorted in the most delicious way, her mouth making the perfect little ‘o’.

“So beautiful, princess, look at you. So perfect like this, all for me, all mine,” I whispered harshly against the shell of her ear.

And I would make sure that the only name she could remember was mine, not his, or anyone else’s. 

Not even her own.

*****

After 3, long, beautiful, delicious rounds, I felt as if I was on top of the world. No words could describe the euphoria I felt when I came inside her for the first time. The sounds she made. The praise she let fall from her lips. 

And when she took the mixed cum from her pussy onto her fingers and placed them in her mouth... I was hard again in seconds. 

After we both calmed down, I knew that there was no way I was ever letting her go.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

((It’s my birthday today, lads.))

[court-of-abs]

Update on “Maybe Tomorrow” [Final Chapter; Chapter 17]

Hello, hello my ducklings. 

It’s been nearly two years since I’ve last been on Tumblr and well over that time since I’ve written anything for my Elorcan fanfic “Maybe Tomorrow.” I actually just finished up reading a Court of Silver Flames and I remembered this page existed. 

As you all might’ve guessed, I never did finish writing that last chapter, or the epilogue, even. And while I no longer intend to finish writing that last chapter now, I decided it would be fun to post what I had written so far as well as a bulleted list for the ideas I had for the epilogue. Please keep in mind two things: this was written over two years ago and I’m not letting myself attempt to edit it (although I did read through it quickly) and there is a potential trigger warning: this chapter covers themes of mental health, therapy, and topics related to it. I’ll also be adding this warning to the previous chapter, as I feel in hindsight I most definitely should’ve included it.

This community and these books were my everything in 2017-2018. I was going through a pretty tough time then, and I am so so happy to say I’m doing much better now despite everything going on in the world. I still keep up with each series to this day (I even cried the BIG tears when I finished Kingdom of Ash) and it will ALWAYS hold a special place in my heart. 

Enjoy!! Let me know what you guys think <3 I miss and love you all, and I hope you’re doing well.

~

Naitivity. To herself, to her problems, to the pain flowing through her veins every step she took. That was why Saturday night had affected her so much.

In the almost nine years since their death, Elide had never acknowledged what had happened. She’d never grieved, barely faltered- she got away with it by not thinking about it, not talking about it. By not accepting the cards the fate had handed her, by turning a blind eye, it became so much easier to pretend it didn’t happen. It became so much easier to pretend she hadn’t changed.

Elide knew now that she wasn’t being strong for it. She was just being naive.

Elide wrapped her arms around herself and leaned forward to rest her head on the steering wheel of her car. She breathed, deeply, taking in the muffled sounds of students walking towards the front of the school- their voices, their laughter.

She smiled, then, thinking about what today was.

Then she frowned, thinking about what today was. The elections and then…

Another breath. In and out, just like the therapist had told her. Elide reached for her school books and swung open the door of her car, stepping out into the heat. She just needed to focus on today, just today.

And then, with the support of her friends, those that cared about her, she’d focus on the next. And the next, and the next…

Elide made it all of three steps away from her car when she ran into Aelin, Lysandra, and Manon standing by the rear of her car, their arms crossed and faces tight.

Elide swallowed and reached for the words she’d been saying over and over in her head for the last 24 hours. They were on the tip of her tongue-

“Manon!” Lysandra’s shout was cut off by Manon barrelling into Elide, pulling her into one of the most suffocating bear hugs she’d ever received. It was exactly what she needed.

“You scared the ever-living daylights out of us” she said into Elide’s hair.

Elide leaned her head on Manon’s shoulder. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Manon shook her head, and Elide watched as Lysandra and Aelin took a few steps forward, readying to pull Manon away should Elide need them to.

“There’s no need to be sorry, but Jesus, Elide, you just… disappeared after Saturday night. No one could get in touch with you all of Sunday, not even Lorcan.” Elide froze at his name. She mumbled another “sorry” into Manon’s shoulder and gripped her harder so that she wouldn’t notice.

“All right, all right” Lysandra said as she gently pried Manon’s arms off of Elide. “Don’t smother her.”

Elide smiled at her. “It’s alright-” and then Lysandra was gripping her in another extremely tight bear hug.

“Hey!” Manon shouted, scowling at Lysandra.

“You had plenty of time with her, it’s my turn now.”

“I got less than a minute-”

“Ladies” Aelin said, stepping between them. “This is about Elide right now, not you.” Aelin stepped towards Lysandra and Lysandra took a step away. 

“Don’t even try, Aelin. You’ll get your turn in a minute.” Elide giggled as Aelin sighed and took a step back.

Lysandra smoothed down the hair on top of her head and said, “Do you want to tell us what happened- after Saturday, I mean. It’s okay if you’re not ready.”

Elide smiled up at her, at all of them, and took a small step forward- Lysandra reluctantly loosened her grip.

“It’s true,” Elide swallowed, “what Maeve said about my parents. That’s all true.” She wrapped her arms around herself, tighter, remembering what Dr. Ren had told her.

“I’ve spent the last nine or so years of my life… in denial. My parents, when they died, they were all I had. I was horrible at making friends, and when Vernon became my guardian, well, you might imagine why he didn’t exactly give me someone to talk to. The SDD tried to get me to talk, to acknowledge what had happened. They worked tirelessly to try and convince my uncle that I needed therapy but my uncle doesn’t really believe in mental illness, of any sort, and I… it was just too much for me,” Elide tried to meet all of their eyes as she talked but the bareness of the moment forced her eyes down to the pavement, “I didn’t talk for almost an entire year after they died. I had no outlet for the pain,” her voice cracked on the word, “the utter pain I was going through. Eventually I learned it was easier to shove it all down. Everyone said that since I was young I would quickly get past it and I took that as meaning that I had to quickly get past it. And so I did everything you’re not supposed to do when trying to grieve about the death of your loved ones.” 

Elide gestured a hand to all of them, “I pushed people away... and I let the mention of the most amazing parents in the world become a trigger for my concealed anxiety and grief. And after Saturday, I couldn’t push it all back down after Saturday. And so nine years of pent up… everything came tumbling out.”

None of them spoke for a moment.

Then: “You talked to one hell of a therapist yesterday, didn’t you,” Manon said. 

Elide let out a nervous chuckle. “Yeah, he set me straight.” Elide said, tracing the lines on one of her textbooks.

“So you’re okay?” Lysandra asked, wrapping her arms tentatively around Elide.

“No” Elide said, “I’m actually far from it. But …” Elide cleared her throat and hastily brushed away a fallen tear. “That’s okay. I know that.” 

“Good” Aelin said. She reached for Elide, then, waving off a pissed Lysandra. “We’re going to be right here while you get through all of it, Elide. Absolutely all of it.”

“Thank you” Elide said, gladly accepting her third bear hug of the day. “And I’m sorry about how I reacted on Saturday, it must have been so scary for all of you. I’m really, truly sorry-”

“Don’t apologize” Aelin said, smoothing down her hair. “You don’t need to. What Maeve did was the definition of malicious, and you didn’t hear it but everyone booed her off stage after Lorcan rushed you out of the room.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t disqualify her from the race after that,” Lysandra said, and then she grimaced. “Gods I can still remember the look on her face-”

“Lysandra” Manon warned, “we all know she’s a bitch, but we don’t need to debate how much of one she is right at this second.”

Lysandra looked down at her feet and mumbled, “Sorry.” 

“It’s okay, really” Elide said. “I don’t mind talking about how much of a bitch she is at all.”

“Oh thank the gods” Lysandra sighed, rushing over to Elide and grasping her hand. “Let’s all go sit down somewhere and discuss this. It’s going to be a lengthy conversation- there is so much bitchy-ness about her that you don’t even know about it.”

“Are we really doing this?” Manon said, raising a single brow. “Doesn’t that make us a bit petty?” A snort from Lysandra.

They all turned to Aelin, but Aelin just shrugged. “What Elide says, goes.”

Manon’s jaw twitched and then she threw up her hands. “What the hell.”

Elide giggled as the four of them linked arms and walked towards the school together. Manon had been right- she had talked to one hell of a shrink yesterday. But she hadn’t just helped her sift through the memories, figure out how to deal with the pain.

Lysandra cackled at something Manon said, and Aelin smiled back at them, unrestrained.

No, she’d also helped her realize how amazing her friends were. And that was best part of all.

~  

If he couldn’t find her before the end of the day- he didn’t know what he was going to do. He just had to talk to her. He just had to know if she was alright.

His feet pounded into the concrete of the school parking lot... (I’m sorry I stopped typing here)

Here’s how I originally outlined the chapter (you can see some changes for when I actually sat down and wrote it):

Chp 17 Summary

Monday morning- day of election results. Elide is a mess. She hasn’t talked to anyone since Saturday night: this includes Lorcan. At school she’s confronted by friends and they’re all worried about her. They make up- Elide opens up to them about it. Lorcan clears things up with Rowan in the parking lot, they walk towards the school together. Then Lorcan comes over and asks to speak with Elide alone- they talk, and Lorcan gives her a new backpack (green like the carpet in the library). Asks if she could take care of Hellas for him- she says yes. They walk into the school hand in hand, knowing what they are and what they could be would have to wait for now.

Chapter Specifics

Outside of School

Elide sitting in her car again, contemplating the weekend. Reflective of first chapter- when she’s sitting there, not sure how things are going to go. 

Walks towards the school in a daze. Aelin & Co waiting for her a few feet from the school. Everyone is tentative but then Manon comes running over and gives Elide a hug. It’s just what she needs.

Elide says she’s sorry and opens up to them about her thought. They all just tell her it’s not her fault for any of it and they’re sorry that happened to her.

Lorcan & Rowan Meeting

Lorcan walking towards Elide when Rowan steps in front of him. The two tersely talk 

Flashback scene of sorts about what Rowan did for him the night before (Cain trying to goad Lorcan into a fight of sorts and Rowan stepping in)

at the end of it the two shake hands and are on good terms again.

Lorcan walks over to Elide and asks to speak with her alone. Bell rings for class to start but Lorcan leads them down a trail to talk.

He’s awkward until Elide leans up and kisses him. She tells him thank you

He gives her the backpack. Elide opens it up to find a copy of A Court of Wings and Ruin, and the picture of her parents protruding from it. 

Lorcan says he wishes he could have made her happy like that. Elide says he did. In the short time they had, he did.

Lorcan asks her to take care of Hellas. She says of course.

Elide leans up and kisses him again and says that she’ll always care about him. And maybe in the future they’ll be something (make sure you don’t rush this!!)

Lorcan starts stuttering and Elide shakes her head. She explains that as much as she cares about him, she knows how much the long distance thing will wear down on them- and that he needs to be his own person when he comes back to her.

Outdoors speakers announce that Aelin and her team had won the election as they approach the school building.

Elide walks into the school with Lorcan, prepared for the day ahead. And the next. And then the next, and the next…

Epilogue

I actually don’t have any notes for this (I THOUGHT I DID I’M SORRY) but I think I had it so that they bump into each other at Terrasen University or something like that and they start as friends but eventually begin dating and then get married in the library and the last scene is them at their spot in the library in their wedding apparel just holding each other (because I’m sappy like that)

Thank you all, again. Writing this was a pleasure and I could not have asked for a better community and support group

- Abs

[citizen-l]

01. Door

Chanyeol curses and wonders what he did to be locked out of his own apartment as the door slams on his face. In truth, it wasn't his fault. How was he to know that taking his roommate to a party would lead to him falling for Chanyeol's best friend. Which would lead to steamy make out sessions, and possibly more, in his apartment. Resulting in him being kicked out for the night. 

Chanyeol tried not to think about the mess Junmyeon and Sehun would probably make. God, they better clean up afterwards. 

He sighed and looked at the keys in his hand. Not his keys. Sehun had tossed those before shutting the door, telling Chanyeol to sleep at Sehun's place for the night. Jeez, a little warning would have been nice! Chanyeol didn't even get to unplug his phone from the charger. His laptop and notes are still open on his desk. This was ridiculous! 

At least it was Friday. And Sehun did say his roommate was out on a date. So Chanyeol will have the place to himself. Since Sehun and Baekhyun even got a TV in their apartment, Chanyeol can just binge shitty soap operas and pass the night. Great plan, sure. Not like Chanyeol had a life or anything. 

The walk to Sehun's place was short, and the night wasn't too warm or cold for Chanyeol to feel uncomfortable in his bed clothes. Jesus. He was wearing his sweats and an oversized sweater. He would've been embarrassed if people saw him like this in the daytime. Thankfully it was late enough in the night that not many were out and about. He felt like he was the one making the walk of shame back to his apartment. Ironic, since he was single, too busy to be in a relationship with anyone, and hadn't decided whether he just didn't like anyone all that much or if he was plainly aro. Not something he wanted to think about tonight. 

He walked up the stairs to the third floor and went down the hall to Sehun's door. Chanyeol had been here multiple times since Sehun had moved in, but he never stayed over at night. Mainly because of Baekhyun. To be completely honest, Chanyeol was a little afraid of Sehun's flatmate. He wasn't sure what it was, but that tiny boy with cotton candy hair always made Chanyeol nervous. 

Well, at least Baekhyun was out tonight. And judging by the way Sehun explained it, Baekhyun was unlikely to return until the next day. Chanyeol would be long gone by then. 

Sehun's apartment was posh, spacious and modern, unlike Chanyeol and Junmyeon's tiny cramped flat with just two room and a tiny kitchen. The lights were on. Maybe it was a rich people thing, leaving the light on. Who cared about bills? Or maybe Sehun was too whipped and crazy for a fuck that he didn't even bother turning off the switches. 

Jesus. Chanyeol sounded angry even to himself. He wasn't actually that angry, just a bit irritated to be collateral to other people's sexual activities. 

Barely two steps in and he stopped dead, caught in a stare with a green faced guy standing in front on the kitchen with a bowl of soup. Before Chanyeol could do anything, the guy screamed and stumbled back, hitting the stool with his leg and splashing hot soup all over himself as he lost his grip on the bowl. Chanyeol hurried towards him to help, but it only backfired. The guy, Baekhyun, judging by the hair, became more agitated and fell back right where the bowl had crashed and broken. 

"Motherfucker, ow!" Baekhyun cursed, forgetting for a moment his terror of seeing another person in his apartment. 

Chanyeol's fear came true as Baekhyun inspected the pain in his hand and found a large cut, blood oozing down his arm. Chanyeol was there just in time to catch the pink haired boy before Baekhyun cursed again and fainted at the sight of blood. 

Jesus, how did a lazy evening in Chanyeol's own apartment turn into spilled soup, bloody wounds and an unconscious twenty-two year old in his arms? 

It took him two hours to get it all cleaned up. He debated calling Sehun, but he was probably too busy in the throes of passion to pick up the phone anyway, so Chanyeol decided to tackle one pressing issue at a time. 

Baekhyun's cut wasn't deep, but it was long enough to cause alarm. Poor guy must've slid his hand right over the broken ceramic. Thankfully the soup wasn't scalding, not hot enough to bruise. Chanyeol decided the leather couch can weather some sticky chicken soup and carried Baekhyun over to lay him down. He found the first aid kit in the bathroom cabinet and went on to clean and dress the wound before Baekhyun woke up. Chanyeol never would have thought he'd be the kind of guy to lose his shit at the sight of blood. But, oh well, everyone had their kryptonite. 

Cleaning up the broken bowl and soup was a bit harder, Chanyeol had to look for missing pieces of ceramic that got knocked away out of sight. It could cause more problems later on. By the time he was done, it was past midnight, and he was hungry enough to indulge in cooking himself a quick snack. Baekhyun was still unconscious on the sofa with his injured hand propped up over his head, breathing normally. He probably didn't get to have dinner if the soup was it. Chanyeol decided to make use of the ingredients in their fridge and make something for both of them. 

"Ah fuck," Baekhyun cursed the moment he woke up. "This is so not my day."

"Hey," Chanyeol said quietly. "Don't freak out. I'm Chanyeol, Sehun's friend, remember?"

"Jesus, you could've knocked maybe?"

"Sorry," Chanyeol did realize he shouldn't have barged in like that. But in his defense, Sehun had told him nobody would be home. "I had Sehun's keys, he's spending the night at my place so, he said I could stay here, and that you'd be out. I didn't know you'd be at home."

"Right. Wait, why is he at your place?"

"Uh, my roommate, Junmyeon... "

"Good God, stop. No more. I've heard enough about Junmyeon this, Junmyeon that. No more. Let them fuck it out. I need a break."

Chanyeol agreed. It was slightly getting on his nerves as well. He went back to his meal, sitting on the floor and watching the muted sitcom.

"Oh, Uh, did you…?" Baekhyun sat up and fumbled with his bandaged hand. 

"Oh yeah," Chanyeol looked back at him. "Sorry about that, I really didn't mean to startle you. I cleaned it up, the kitchen too, so don't worry about it. And, the cut isn't deep as far as I can tell, but you probably should get it checked out tomorrow, might require stitches."

"Just my luck," Baekhyun sighed. "You said you cleaned the kitchen?"

"Yeah, didn't want any more accidents happening tonight. Also, there's some stir fried rice and chicken if you want. I was hungry so..." Chanyeol pointed at his own food. 

"You cleaned, and you cooked," Baekhyun repeated like he couldn't wrap his head around the facts. "Please switch places with Sehun and move in with me."

Chanyeol laughed, if only. His meager job wasn't even remotely enough to afford all this luxury. 

"Alright, I'm gonna...I'm gonna go clean up. Jesus, what a night to do some beauty care. I've probably aged five years, a lot of good this mask will do me. And ugh, I smell like chicken, probably taste like it too."

Chanyeol couldn't help but laugh as Baekhyun slowly went to his room down the hallway grumbling about his bad luck. That was when Chanyeol realized that this was probably the first time he was ever alone with Baekhyun, and not once did he feel nervous or unsettled. He laughed, Baekhyun was actually funny. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad spending a night here like this. Granted, he could've done without the mess and injury. 

Chanyeol finished his meal and cleaned up the leather sofa where Baekhyun had laid unconscious by the time the other boy came freshly showered and a little out of it. 

"Uh, not to sound demanding or anything, but," Baekhyun sounded a little nervous. "Do you mind cleaning the bandage? It got wet and there's a red patch and...yeah."

Chanyeol tried not to laugh because it wasn't actually funny, it was just too adorable. Never did he imagine Byun Baekhyun, the boisterous theatre major around campus to be lightheaded because of blood. He looked too cute with his wet hair and too big T-shirt and loose shorts, holding up his injured arm and desperately trying not to look at the wound. 

"Sit down, I'll get it cleaned up," Chanyeol said, taking out the aid kit again. 

"You cleaned the couch," Baekhyun observed as he sat down, momentarily forgetting all about his injury and sounding surprised. 

Chanyeol didn't bother replying, he focused on the task at hand. 

"Close your eyes," he said and Baekhyun shut his eyes instantly. Button-like nose scrunched up, face a little red from rubbing off the mask, hand trembling outstretched. 

Chanyeol sat on the floor and changed the dressing. Then he put things away neatly and brought Baekhyun the meal he had prepared. 

"You can use your left hand, right?" Chanyeol asked. 

Baekhyun gaped at the food, spoon clumsily held in his left grip. He nodded minutely and Chanyeol decided to focus on the TV screen. 

"You can turn on the sound now, I'm wide awake," Baekhyun said. "Sorry for the drama, but then again, I'm an actor, what did you expect?"

"You're majoring in Theatre, right?" Chanyeol asked in conversation as Baekhyun nodded. "What do you do when you have to act with props like blood?"

"Well," Baekhyun scrunched up his red nose and Chanyeol had to bite his cheek to not smile. "It's not a big deal since I know it's fake. But when it's real…"

"That's okay," Chanyeol felt the sudden urge to reassure the guy. "I don't think there's anything to worry about, give it a week and it'll heal properly."

"Thanks," Baekhyun avoided eye contact. "For patching me up, twice. And for the meal."

"No worries. I'm sorry again for walking in on you like this. Giving you such a scare. Sehun told me you went on a date and won't be home tonight."

Baekhyun made a face. "Yeah, that…"

Chanyeol guessed it didn't go well. But he didn't want to ask, it was private. 

"I didn't show," Baekhyun said. 

He stood his date up? That's… a bit cruel, Chanyeol thought. 

"No, that's a lie," Baekhyun sighed. "I showed up two hours early and sat watch from a distance and I was right, some guys just wanted to mess with me. So I came home and decided to pamper myself."

Chanyeol really wanted to know who those guys were. The anger he felt wasn't new, and he wasn't surprised how much he hated whoever those people were who wanted to mess with Baekhyun. Chanyeol hated guys like that who only preyed on other people thinking they were weak. Sure, Baekhyun was maybe small compared to a lot of the guys around campus, and his sassy attitude and cotton candy hair would hurt a lot fragile egos, but Chanyeol really struggled to understand why people would want to hurt a complete stranger. 

"Do you know those guys?" Chanyeol asked even as he tried to hold himself back. 

"Yeah, don't worry about it, I took care of them. They're probably sitting in a cell for the night. I reported them."

Chanyeol felt relieved. Though guys like that deserved more than a night in a cell, at least nobody got hurt today. Or, at least not by them. He felt a pang of guilt thinking he was the reason Baekhyun got hurt. Jeez, why couldn't Sehun just wait until daytime to have his way with Junmyeon?

"You always like this, a neat freak?" Baekhyun asked when Chanyeol grabbed his empty plate and went on to clean it at the sink. 

Heat in his cheeks probably was evidence enough that he was blushing. Chanyeol's inability to leave anything unclean or untidy was not necessarily a problem, he didn't think he was obsessive about it. But it did stand out sometimes. Especially while living with Junmyeon who was not the neatest or tidiest person in the world. 

"Sorry, habit," Chanyeol said. 

"Oh, don't be sorry at all. I haven't done a single thing since you came. Please teach some manners to Sehun."

"He's a little beyond help."

"Unfortunate."

Baekhyun bid him goodnight, giving him free reign of Sehun's bed as he went to his own. Chanyeol never made it to the bed, however. He was dozing while sitting on the ground with his head back on the couch when cold fingers shook him awake. 

It took him a while to wake and sit up properly, not knowing what was going on since it was still pitch dark with only the light of the TV. 

Then he registered Baekhyun's strained voice. He was alert immediately, remembering everything that happened last night. 

"Uh, I think… I got hurt… in my sleep… it's... "

The wound was bleeding, blood seeped through the hem of the bandage and down Baekhyun's arm. Maybe the wound was deeper than Chanyeol thought. 

Before he could say anything, Baekhyun fainted right on top of him like a sack of potatoes. He was lighter than Chanyeol thought, which he hadn't exactly noticed hours before when Baekhyun first fainted. 

Chanyeol laid the guy down on the sofa again and reached for his phone, only then remembering that his phone was back in his apartment. Christ. 

Chanyeol quickly walked to Baekhyun's room. His phone was password locked, but Chanyeol could still use it in case of emergency. He grabbed the first pair of shoes he thought would fit Baekhyun and slid them into unconscious feet. 

"Baekhyun? Baek... " waking the guy wasn't very successful. He was probably too tired, and the blood loss was probably not helping. Damn guy was too pale to have much blood in him anyway. 

Chanyeol knew he was being stupid. Baekhyun probably just needed a full night's rest and a visit to the doctor's in the morning. But the guilt was eating at Chanyeol. 

The pharmacy was maybe seven minutes away. Double, if Chanyeol had to carry an unconscious Baekhyun all the way there. But that was still better than sitting here and not doing anything. What if there was a piece of ceramic stuck in the wound that Chanyeol hadn't been able to clean? 

He roused Baekhyun enough to carry him on his back and make sure he wouldn't fall off, and then he locked the doors and headed out. 

"The wound nicked a vein, nothing big, just needed a few stitches," the pharmacist said while performing the sutures.

Chanyeol was a little relieved that Baekhyun was awake again. Sitting with his eyes closed, his uninjured hand gripping the packet of strawberry milk he had requested and humming some song to distract himself. At least he'll be fine.

Chanyeol, however, couldn't shake off the weird gaze of the pharmacist and his assistant at the counter. They looked at Chanyeol the same way people looked at murder suspects. He tried to not show his nervousness.

That worked until an officer walked in purposefully and stood right in front of, sizing Chanyeol up. 

"You okay, son?" the officer asked Baekhyun directly. 

"Oh, Joey! What are you doing here?" Baekhyun asked. Gone was the faintness of his voice and dullness of his eyes. He was again distracted from his own distress as he focused on anything but his injury. 

"Byun! I really didn't think you were the one they called me about, I got those bastards you told me about. I didn't think they hurt you!"

Someone called the officer. Probably the assistant pharmacist. Good God, they probably thought Chanyeol purposely hurt Baekhyun and brought him here at four in the morning. Jesus Christ, what the hell was happening?

"Oh no, this was at home," Baekhyun said casually. Almost cheerfully. 

Chanyeol nearly swallowed his own tongue as three pairs of eyes honed in on him and Baekhyun remained oblivious, or pretended to. That was it, Chanyeol was going to jail. 

"I slipped in the kitchen, got soup all over me. Dreadful thing. And then I managed to fall on my ass and scrape my hand on a broken bowl!" Baekhyun summarized it like telling a story. 

"I'd say this is more than a scrape," the pharmacist grumbled. "If you hadn't bandaged it properly, you would have lost a lot of blood by now."

"Well it's all thanks to Chanyeol. I can't even look at blood, makes me faint. He cleaned up the wound and everything. Even carried me all the way, can you believe it?"

No, they could not. But at least they didn't think Chanyeol knifed Baekhyun's hand himself. That was good enough for now. 

"I'd be lying in my own pool of blood, dead, if it weren't for Chanyeol!"

He probably wouldn't be hurt in the first place if it weren't for Chanyeol. But nobody needed to know that. He looked up at the others and they seemed convinced Chanyeol wasn't the bad guy here. 

This is why Chanyeol had always been nervous around Baekhyun. Or, to be more precise, nervous because of other people due to Baekhyun's presence. This guy could make friends with patrol officers and pharmacists and make them feel concerned for him in a heartbeat. That was some power to have over people. Not saying Baekhyun was manipulative, on the contrary, he was sweet and charming and that won hearts. 

"You sure you don't want me to drop you off?" Joey said as he got into his patrol car. 

"Nah, it's okay, I think I need to walk it off, have some fresh air to feel a bit better."

"Alright," Joey eyed Chanyeol one last time and then smiled at Baekhyun. "Call me if there's any trouble." And then he was off. 

Jesus, that was nerve wracking. Chanyeol desperately wanted to go back to his own cramped tiny apartment with the partitioned room he shared with Junmyeon and sleep in his own bed. 

"You really didn't have to carry me all the way here, did you?" Baekhyun asked as they walked back to the apartment. 

"Didn't wanna risk it, and it was a short distance."

"Short!" Baekhyun laughed. "I can't decide whether I should be glad you were there or me mad at you for causing the accident in the first place."

"Sor…" Chanyeol was going to apologize again but Baekhyun cut him off. 

"I'm not mad, don't worry about it. It was just an accident. I'd blame Sehun but it was my choice to come back home, my choice to go on a date with a douche bag in the first place, their fault for being douchebags and waiting to gang up on me… what's the point of blaming. We're all still alive and well, let's just enjoy the moment."

It wasn't such a bad philosophy, especially at nearly half past five with the sun coming up on the horizon and cold breeze sending mild chills through the body. Chanyeol looked at Baekhyun when he realized the boy was only wearing a thin, oversized T-shirt. He should've put a jacket on him before rushing him to the pharmacy. 

"Let's hurry back," Chanyeol said. 

"What's the rush, let me enjoy the cool weather."

"You'll catch a cold."

Chanyeol didn't realize Baekhyun had stopped walking until he was a few steps ahead without the pink head near his shoulder. He looked back to find Baekhyun gawking at him with his mouth open. 

"What, what's wrong?" Chayeol quickly turned back. "You okay? Feeling lightheaded?"

"Uh…" Baekhyun stuttered. "Yeah, I think so. Think you can carry me the rest of the way?"

"Yeah sure, get on my back, it'll be easier," Chanyeol crouched down and waited for him to lean forward. 

Even after seconds, Chanyeol didn't feel an extra body on him. He turned his head and looked up. Baekhyun was still staring at him open-mouthed. 

"Baekhyun?"

"Hm what?"

"Get on?"

"Oh yeah, never turning down a ride," Baekhyun said as he leaned his weight on Chanyeol and grabbed his shoulders while locking his legs around Chanyeol's waist. 

Chanyeol faintly wondered whether Baekhyun was joking or not, faking his lightheadedness. But he didn't think too much about it, the apartment was barely five minutes away. It was good exercise anyway. 

"Jesus, what do you do to become this giant ball of goodness with muscles?"

Chanyeol nearly avoided stumbling on the stairs as he went up to the apartment. Giant ball of goodness? What? 

"You can put me down now," Baekhyun whispered, breath fanning the shell of Chanyeol's ear and almost making him lose his grip on Baekhyun's thighs. 

Chanyeol dropped Baekhyun safely on his feet and handed him Sehun's keys. Baekhyun gladly opened the door and walked in.

"I think I'll head back now," Chanyeol said from the threshold. 

"Oh, isn't it too early?" Baekhyun looked back tilting his head. 

He looked less pale now, maybe the sugar of the strawberry milk helped, or maybe the walk. Baekhyun looked good, not sick. Better. Pale pink hair all ruffled, clothes swallowing his thin frame, shorts and boots looking adorably comical with his bed shirt. Chanyeol was staring. 

"No, Junmyeon usually gets up by now, I can catch him if I go now before he starts his morning run."

"Shame," Baekhyun said. "Well, if you must go."

Chanyeol didn't know what to do when Baekhyun kissed him full on the mouth. He tasted sweet like strawberry. Lips soft like candy. Chanyeol hardly brought up a hand, fingertips grazing Baekhyun's angular jaw when he suddenly pulled away, leaving Chanyeol gasping and gaping at the shorter guy. 

"Thanks for the rescue!" Baekhyun laughed. His cheeks soft and glowing in the rising sun. 

Chanyeol didn't have time to react until the apartment door was being shut. For the second time in less than 8 hours, Chanyeol was standing in front of a closed door and desperately questioning his life. What just happened?

[voorbeees]

[ hi im back with a part 2 bc im a sappy bitch. you can read part one here ]

Jesse makes his way into the kitchen. Early mornings are a thing he's had to get used to and there doesn't seem to be enough coffee in the world to keep him awake. Sure he's typically awake for work, but he schedules appointments around the time he spends recouping from his nightly hobby. After all a business doesn't run itself. He thinks this, accompanied with a move to LA shortly after taking the girl in could play a large part in it.

Shortly after they'd arrived at the new home, Tilly had been thrilled to learn she had her own room and own things. Apparently that was another thing her mother had failed to provide. He wants to ask her what her life was like before, but each time he thinks to broach the subject something makes him shy away from it. Maybe it's for the best. Besides, considering what it was, Jesse's sure he'll feel fire settle in his veins. Not long after that he'd had her enrolled in a small private school. It was never too early to start an education. He's also taken it upon himself to start teaching her ASL. The decision was only made final when she had looked up at him with those puppy dog eyes and said the simple phrase "I wish we could talk better."

And that had been another thing, not once had she acted like he was a stranger. It was actually the opposite. She acted like she'd known him her whole life. Maybe that was good, it made breaking the ice less difficult, at least in his mind.

Now Jesse adjusts his black suit coat, making sure he looks dressed to a T, even if he is just going downstairs. He's always been one to preen, current circumstances haven't changed that at all. Black Oxfords echo off the marble floor and he's instantaneous met with the beaming face of Tilly.

"Jesse! Jesse!" She rushes from her seat at the dining room table and bounces around his legs. Her tiny red curls dance about her shoulders in the process. She wastes no time in asking for her favorite thing, which is only made obvious a split second later when she holds her arms up, waiting to be picked up.

He picks her up with ease, acting like she weighs nothing (and to him she probably does). Her tiny arms wrap around his neck. She's made it clear she enjoys being at his height. Tilly pulls out of the hug a second later and starts flapping a tiny arm in the air. "I've been practicing with my writing!" She beams, little face begging for approval. He'd be cruel to deny her that so Jesse nods and walks the both of them back over to the table. Tilly wiggles herself out of his grasp just enough so she can grab the paper and shove it in his face.

It takes his eye a moment to focus and he has to hold the paper back a bit but sure enough, there in a child's scrappy handwriting is her name repeated at least ten times. Her statement is met with a slow nod of approval.

"Oh!" She finally makes the effort to remove herself from his arms and settle back into her chair. "Maybe I can try writing your name next?" It's a question but he knows what she's implying and its not a moment later that he pulls his phone out. He spends a moment typing on it and then turns it around to face her.

J-E-S-S-E

An amused look settles on his scarred face as he sees her focusing all her attention to write his name. Her tongue pokes out of the left side of her mouth as she finishes the last letter and holds it up, rather proud of herself.

It's messy but it's a cute gesture, so he takes it from her and pins it to the fridge with a magnet. That earns him a squeal of delight. The excitement is short lived as she goes back to her task. Jesse takes the opportunity to finally pour himself a cup of coffee.

' YOU'RE SPENDING THE DAY WITH SPANN. ' He hasn't actually left her alone yet. At least not that she knows. He's made sure to always leave when she's asleep, a caretaker there if something was to arise in his absence. The last thing he wants is for Tilly to think he's abandoning her.

"Why?" She asks as she looks up at him and then goes back to her work.

' I HAVE...BUSINESS. ' If you can consider visiting a plastic surgeon business. It's something he's wanted to do since he first saw what was once his "face". But Spann and the doctors had highly discouraged any reconstruction until the scars were fully healed. All in all it had added up to almost a year's time and it had been nothing but pure hell. Not that he cared what people thought when they saw him, more so he cared what he saw when he looked at himself in the mirror. It wasn't good. Hell, for the first several months he'd busted every mirror within five feet of him, going so far as to have them removed from places of his organization that had them. It'd been a touchy subject and not many could breach it.

Jesse remembers when Tilly saw his face for the first time. It had been the next day and it was on accident. He wasn't planning on showing the mangled part of himself until she seemed comfortable around him. But she had walked in on him in his home office. He'd been sitting at his desk, mask safety packed away in the chrome case. She was supposed to be sleeping and much to his horror when he had looked up, she wasn't. Instead she was standing in the doorway with wide eyes. He'd frozen like a deer in headlights. What the fuck was he supposed to do? Was she scared of him? Fuck, he'd be scared of himself. It's not like he even looked human anymore. He sat there for what felt like an eternity, unmoving until she walked forward. "You got hurt bad, huh?" She hadn't looked at him in disgust, but rather understanding. It was like it was the most common thing to ever happen. Tilly had come up and stood in front of him. "I got hurt one time too." She pulled her hair back to show a small indention on her forehead. "I hit my head and it left a really big spot." Something about that small stupid child gesture had made him laugh. It had demolished the wall he had built, afraid of traumatizing her.

Tilly lays her pencil down and looks up at Jesse now. To only be six she's intuitive. She can tell by the way he grips the handle of the mug and shifts his weight slightly that something is off. Usually its "I have work." Not "business." It's an odd choice of words. So she does what kids do best, she bombards him with fucking questions. "What kind?"

' BUSINESS. '

There's that word again. No matter how hard she tries, she just can't fucking pick out the problem. "Can I come?" Jesse shakes his head 'no.' A tiny frown creases her brow. "Do you have to go to the doctor?" Suddenly she gasps, standing up in her chair. "Are you sick!?"

Jesse's signing and shaking his head 'no' before he can stop himself. It's not hard to tell she's working herself up. Fuck, the last thing he wants right now or at all is her to he upset.

"Are-are you going for your face?" Tilly sniffles and wipes her nose with the back of her hand. Of course he fucking is, why else would he go to a god damned doctor. He obviously can't say it like that so he nods. "Bu-but there's nothing wrong with it!" Now she's just being polite, Jesse's sure of it. But the logical part of his brain says no, she's upset because she fucking cares about you you god damned fool. "What i-if I don't know who you are after? Because you lo-ook different?!" At that she breaks into full on hysteria. There's a few other words but Jesse can't make them out. It just all sounds garbled to him.

He considers pulling his phone out again but settles for a different approach. Jesse lowers himself on to one knee a few inches from her perch in the chair. He signs "hush" and "okay". Those are the easiest ones she's able to read but she just shakes her head crying even harder. "It's no-ot okay!" There's a hiccup added after she finishes speaking and for a split second Jesse thinks she's going to suffocate on her own tears. He blinks several times, actually taken aback by just how upset she is over this. This is a good thing not a bad one. He's going to look better but she doesn't want that. Of course he understands the whole "changing of features" process but it's still him. It's not like he's cutting off one of his fucking hands.

" It will be okay. " His hand hovers over her back like it's debating if it should offer comfort or not. Instead the decision is made for him as Tilly wipes at her eyes and sniffles.

"You don't know that!" There's a long pause and for a second Jesse thinks she's going to start bawling again, but she doesn't. Instead she looks up at him and the intensity in that stare almost has him drawing back. There's something in it. Love? Impossible. People don't love him, they tolerate him. Or rather he pays them to tolerate him. Tilly blinks once, then twice and yes, he sees it now. It's a mixture of love and adoration. Something almost foreign to him. "What if something happens?" Her tiny lip quivers. "Who will I have then?"

Fuckfuckfuckfuck. His mind draws a blank. There's no way for him to completely assure something won't happen. Granted people don't usually die from plastic surgeon, though he guesses it's possible. ' IT WON'T. I WILL STILL BE HERE. ' The phone's electronic voice drones out into the air. That's not what he wants to say. Jesse wants to say this huge fucking essay of why she doesn't need to worry but sometimes the simplest answers are the best.

"Promise?"

' YES. '

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

Blinding light sears his brown eye as it flutters open. Are lights always this bright? He doesn't think so. If they are then he's definitely paying someone to dim all the ones in his house. Because Jesus fuck that's a horrible thing to wake up to. Jesse blinks a few times then lets out a sigh. He can't feel his face (which, God willing, with strong as fuck drugs he won't have to until it heals).

It's only after he's been awake for an hour or two that he turns to the door at his right and sees Spann standing there, Tilly's small wide eyed form in front of her. He offers a shakey wave as a greeting. Tilly looks up at Spann, who nods and urges her in then steps back out to answer a call. Jesse thinks she looks even more comical like this. She's acting like he's a porcelain doll that could break at the lightest touch.

Tilly rests her tiny arms on his bedside. "Do you feel better?" Jesse gives her a so-so response with his hand. She takes this as privilege to climb her way up into the bed beside him, her tiny form looking even smaller near him. "Well," her forehead wrinkles, "you don't look different."

Now he is laughing. His shoulders shaking as an indicator. She looks at him before deciding to curl up next to him, her tiny head on his shoulder. "I still love you anyway. Even if you look like a mummy."

Jesse signs. " I love you too, squirt. "

[love-fireflysong]

J K and Z!!

J - Name a fandom you didn’t care/think about until you saw it all over tumblr

I mean I just started playing Dragon Age now didn’t I? Think that answers your question pretty handily I think lol. (Also debating on trying out Borderlands, but I’m terrible at and don’t prefer to play FPS style of games so I’ll have to think about that one a little harder.)

K -Say something nice about someone in any of your fandoms

Oh god, why would you ask me this one Ash????? I’m always terrified that I’m gonna leave someone out and make them think that I don’t like them when I love literally everyone I’m mutuals with lol. So fuck it, I’m just gonna say something nice about everyone and none of you can stop me!

@fudgeroach you are such a cool person and I love seeing how much progress you’re making in school and with you’re art that I cry a little inside everytime lol

@clumsybookworm18 i know we don’t talk a whole lot but I’m missed seeing you on my dash and I’m super excited and relieved to see that you’re back again and hopefully feeling a little bit better!

@elliepollie can’t wait to see what you have planned for when you feel ready enough to start posing again and I need you to know that that comment you left for me on baby it’s cold outside is the reason I’m even still writing in the first place.

@wacem I’m just gonna reply to all the nice things you said about me and say that I’m constantly honored that you’re taking the time out of your busy life with demanding jobs AND taking care of a toddler (cause I know how exhausting that one is lol) to even agree to not only draw that art for me but to beta read all my terrible, terrible grammer in the first place. Plus if anyone here is slow as a mollasacre it’s clearly me lol. 

@queenofbaws just thank you for always answering the multiple prompts i send you every week, still allowing me to send you the shit for (starve) sunday, and just dealing with me constantly sending you random songs and artwork. You are a saint for dealing with my undoubtedly annoying ass (even if we are on opposite sides of this pulp and pop war lol)

@jesus-hotsauce-christmas-cake while i don’t leave you comments like i should, please know that I have read everything you and ellie have been posting for maybe eventually will be our always and I’ve been greatly enjoying it. And it’s nice knowing that at least someone out there will enjoy what ever chrashley parents shit i put out in the future lol.

Z - Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go (prompts optional but encouraged)

I’ve always had a loose idea for a Tales of Phantasia au where Dhaos is defeated and everyone goes back to the times that they’re supposed to, but with Cress, Mint, Arche, and Claus defeating Dhaos 100 years ago instead of Morrison (who actually died this time if I remember correctly) it changed history so much that two seperate timelines now exist. One being the ‘original’ timeline where Dhaos was released, Toltus Village destroyed, magic gone form the world, and the other where magic still exists but because Dhaos escaped to the future 150 later, none of the stuff that kicked off the beginning of the game would have gone down.

Would have been angsty as shit lol, and I would have tried to twist the Narikiri Dungeon game and Summoner’s Lineage into it as well. With instead of Arche reuniting with everyone 100 years later like she expected, she won’t be able to see them until over 200 years later when Narikiri Dungeon takes place, and then she’s left with the decision on whether or not to stay in her timeline where she can use magic and where her mother still lives, or travel back into the other timeline instead. No magic at her disposal and with an entirely different version of her mother that won’t really be hers, and having to get used to a new history and world, but being able to finally live out a portion of her life with Chester and the others like she never got to in the first place and has desperately always wanted.

This then would have spawned other fics in this universe, leading to one that is causing the two timelines to collide, but that’s neither here nor there lol.

[floatingpetals]

Thief in the Night

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: literally all fluff

Word Count:2000+

Summary: She tried to talk to him about it. It’s been an issue with Steve for as long as she could remember. But every night, it always ended the same.

A/N: There is like no plot to this lol. It’s just all fluffy goodness. I needed a little break from my series stuff and this just kinda crapped out. I hope you all enjoy! Please reblog and let me know what you think! ❤❤

Gifs not mine, credit to the creator!

Frigged cold air licked at her legs, instantly causing Y/N to curl up in a ball deep in her sleep. The sudden temperature changed made a frown to tug at her lips and her brows to crease. Her teeth started to chatter, and her body trembled as the chill set in. It didn’t take her long to wake with a start and blink groggily. In her haze, Y/N’s wondered just why the hell she was so freaking cold.

She groaned and stuck her hand out behind her, blindly reaching for the sheet and comforter she was one hundred percent certain she had wrapped around her when she fell asleep. She paused when she felt a lump behind her, a warm thoroughly wrapped up lump that was happily snoring away.

“Of course,” she grumbled.

Y/N rolled over to her back and glared at the back of her sleeping boyfriend beside her. Just because she couldn’t see his face, didn’t mean she wasn’t fully aware of the relaxed and unfazed expression on his face. Steve Grant Rogers had gone and done it again. Not like she could really get upset with him; he didn’t exactly mean to steal the sheets. But he was the reason the room was so stupid cold; Steve ran insanely hot at night for some reason and needed the air in the room to be cooler to not overheat. Y/N didn’t’ mind that. She did, however, not appreciate him stealing her comforters.

She glared for a moment longer before decided to take her comforter back. It took her a moment to find a way to wiggle under the covers, but once she did, she plastered herself to his back and wrapped her arms around his waist. Unsurprisingly, he was radiating heat like the massive furnace he was. He didn’t even flinch when she settled against him, his snores continued without missing a beat.

Well, that can’t do, Y/N thought to herself with a wicked grin. Nuzzling her nose into the crook of his neck and she let out a breathy sigh. She couldn’t hold back her grin as she shuffled her legs further under the sheets and pressed her frigid feet against his stupidly warm calves. At the same time, she slid her equally freezing hands up under his white t-shirt and shoved them up to rest on his pecks.

His reaction was instantaneous. His eyes flew open with a hiss and his body reflexively lurched to get away. Y/N giggled and tightened her grip around his chest and slid her feet up his legs.

“Jesus Christ!” He yelped when her freezing foot climbed up his thigh. He shot a hand out to stop her from going higher, his grip tight in warning. “Why are you so damn cold?!”

“Me?” Y/N counter indignantly. “You’re the butt munch who stole the sheets! Again!”

Steve bit his lip, the frustration of being woken up fading away when he took note of his position under the several layers of blankets. It was an old habit of his, from before the serum when he lost body heat regularly. Bucky always used to say he looked like he was in a cocoon whenever he’d spend the night on Bucky’s old couch. He didn’t realize how inconvenient it was until he started dating Y/N a year ago and they had the same outcome every night they spent together. Sighing, he unclenched and started unwrapping the blankets to drape over her behind him.

“’M sorry,” He murmured. Y/N snorted and snuggled closer against him. If she couldn’t get her own space, then fine. She’d cling like a koala and he’d lose his.

“I know you are.” She sighed and pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. A purr rumbled in his chest, the soft-touch causing his eye to flutter close. One of his hands reached under his shirt to cover hers, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against the back of her hand. “Still doesn’t mean we’re gonna overlook your problem.”

Steve smirked and shook his head. He had a feeling this wasn’t gonna end that easily. She had already given him an earful about it a few nights ago before bed. He wasn’t intentionally ignoring her. It was a work in progress.

“I know.” He murmured. “I don’t mean to…”

Y/N hummed and let her head fall on the pillow. She let out a heavy sigh and tried to fall back asleep. Unfortunately, she knew it wasn’t going to be that easy. Once she was up, it took a long while for her to fall back asleep, unlike the thief in the night who could fall asleep on a dime. She hated that but also loved knowing it was because of her presence that Steve to felt safe enough to fall asleep so quickly. He had a lot of weight on his shoulders, so any help she could give, Y/N was happy for it.

However, for her, her brain just wouldn’t stop thinking. It was a constant buzz in the back of her head that no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t get it to shut up. Ever. Case in point, right now it kept asking the question what the hell made him still yank covers despite his temperature running higher than it used to be.

“Steve,” Y/N whispered. Steve answered with a teeny groan. Y/N pouted and tried again with a shimmy of her hips. “Steve.”

He didn’t respond and when he started to snore, Y/N knew he was back asleep. The giant jerk. Well, that just wouldn’t do. She was up because of him and he wasn’t getting away with it that easily. Gently tugging her hand from his grip, she reached down and dug her knuckled into his side between his rib cages. It wouldn’t hurt him, but it was a sure-fire way to wake him up. Steve snorted and jerked, his eyes flying open wide.

“Whas happened?” He slurred and blearily rubbed his eyes.

“I can’t sleep.” She stated simply. Steve grumbled and rolled over to face her in her arms. Unsurprisingly, he had an exhausted look on his face. It was clear how hard he was struggling to keep his heavy eyelids open.

“Aw, m’ sorry baby.” He cooed and raised a hand to rest on her cheek. Y/N watched amused as his eyelids drooped shut in seconds on relaxing into her bed. His hand fell with a soft smack on her cheek and Y/N couldn’t stop the laughter tumbling from her mouth. Steve jerked awake once again.  

“Y/N,” He whined. Y/N giggled at his pout which only made her laugh harder. He grumbled under his breath and forced her face into the crook of his neck.

“Steve!” She snickered but didn’t fight his embrace. He shushed her halfheartedly and started to run his hand down the back of her head. Well, more like drug his heavy fingers down her head in a sleepy attempt to quiet her.

“Go to sleep,” He mumbled. Y/N scoffed.

“If only it was that easy.”

“It is. Just close your eyes and shhh….”

“But that’s not-,”

“Shh sh sh,” Steve interjected, his speech falling off as he slowly succumbed to sleep. Again.

Now her brain wouldn’t stop jumping from how she was going to wake him up again to what the hell she was going to wear tomorrow, to what she was going to have for lunch. Groaning softly under her breath, Y/N knew this was fruitless and started to wiggle out of Steve’s grip. Steve inhaled sharply, and sluggishly stirred as she shimmed off the bed.

“Where you goin’?” He called sleepily. Y/N stood at the end of the bed and looked over to Steve. He was utterly adorable, with the pile of blankets wrapped up around him and just his face peeking out of the mass as he squinted in the darkness to see her.

“I’m going to make some tea and maybe take some Benadryl so I can fall back asleep since someone was so kind and woke me up.”  

Steve frowned and rolled over, mentally debating on whether he should get up to follow after her. The bed was colder without her, the safety blanket he had gone with her. Exhaling dramatically, Steve shoved the blankets off and grabbed one of the thick blankets on top to wrap around himself. Shuffling down the hall, Steve stopped at the entrance of the kitchen and watched Y/N start the electric kettle.

She was humming softly to herself, grabbing a bag of tea from the box in the pantry completely oblivious to the looming man behind her. Y/N turned around to go to where the mugs were and nearly flew out of her skin.

“Jesus!” Her squeaked and her hand flew to her chest. “What the hell?”

“You left me alone.” He pouted. Y/N sighed and rubbed her temple.

“I went-. I told-,” Taking in a deep breath, Y/N shook her head deciding it was best just to let it go. “Never mind. You’re lucky your cute.”

A soft smile grew on Steve’s face and a warm fuzzy feeling settle in his stomach. In the back of his mind, he knew she was poking fun at him, but he was going to take the compliment at face value. It was too early to be sarcastic back. He scuffled across the kitchen and wrapped his arms around Y/N waist. A sweet thought, but in his sleepy state, Steve wasn’t aware of how his body weight sagged down on her.

“O-okay,” Y/N staggered under his bulk. She braced her hands against the counter and spread her legs out keep from collapsing. “Steve, you can’t- I’m not equipped to carry you, baby.”

“Mhm.” Steve’s voice was muffled against her neck, but he didn’t move from his spot. He was comfy where he was.

“So… This is just our life now I guess?” Y/N teased. She couldn’t move even if she wanted to with his weight on her back and he only seemed to grow heavier the deeper he slipped into unconsciousness. The kettle went off, the shrill beeping pulling a pitiful groan from Steve in her ear. “Baby just go back to bed. You’re barely standing as it is. I’ll be there in a few minutes, I promise.”

He mumbled incoherently under his breath but gave in. He pressed a sloppy kiss to her neck, nearly missing the mark before he stumbled back to their share bedroom. Y/N giggled and made up her tea before she headed back to the room.

Steve had flicked on a lamp on Y/N’s side of the bed. She paused when she saw he spread the blankets out, putting a few extra on her spot, before crawling up underneath them. He was out like a light, his arm slung on her side of the bed snoring softly against the pile of pillows. Y/N melted at the sight, her lips turning up in a loving smile.  

Y/N set her mug on the bedside table and slowly lifted his arm to shimmy underneath. His eyes fluttered open briefly and gave her a lopsided grin. Y/N smiled back and leaned down to press a kiss to his temple.

“Go to sleep,” Y/N whispered gently. Steve hummed and gently squeezed her hip. She had just sat up when she heard his snores once again. That punk, she thought jealously. Rolling her eyes, she grabbed her mug and settled in to be awake until her brain finally let her sleep. By the time she was able to drift to sleep, the tea was long gone, and her day was planned out down to the second. It was a good thing it was Friday and they didn’t have anything incredibly important to do the next day.

She flicked off the lamp and nestled in beside Steve with a happy sigh. Unconsciously, he pulled her close and nuzzled his face into her neck. A content sigh fell from his lips and he held her tight. She fell asleep with a happy smile against her blanket stealing boyfriend.

[fangzeronos]

In Love With My Best Friend

Ivy couldn’t understand it. Harley had been nervous to talk to her after the Parademon army went back to Apokolips, but when she asked Harley what she wanted to talk about, Harley blabbered about her bachelorette party? No, Ivy knew there was something else that Harley wasn’t saying, and it happened because of Kite Man popping over her shoulder.

 Sighing as she walked through the rubble of tanks and dead Gothamites, the green skinned woman heard grunting and an occasional swear, smiling to herself before she walked over a bit of busted tank. She looked down and saw Harley shifting some rubble out of the way, dirt and soot covering her normally pale arms and legs, marks of blood and dirt on her neck.

 “Harls,” Ivy said, hopping down and walking over, holding her hand out and wrapping the rubble in a vine before shifting it out of the way. “There, honey.”

 “Thanks, Ivy,” Harley said, wiping her face and spreading more dirt to her forehead. She turned away, heading for another piece of debris. “Thought you’d be with Kite Boy.”

 Ivy smiled a little, biting her lip. “No, no, he uh…he wanted to take a slew of selfies next to the taco truck the Parademons decided to use as a dildo, so…” she said with a chuckle. When Harley didn’t laugh, Ivy bit her lip and looked at her friend. “Harley. You wanted to talk about something, and it wasn’t my bachelorette party. Because we both know we’re going to end up drunk and passed out on each other like a normal Saturday.” She walked over and put her hand on Harley’s shoulder. “Talk to me.”

 Harley sighed, her hands clenching before she folded her arms softly. “You were right. We need to talk about what happened, and just saying it was ‘spur of the moment’ or that it didn’t mean anything is bullshit,” she said softly. She turned and looked at Ivy, backing up a bit and biting her lip.

 “Harls—”

 “No, Ive. My turn,” Harley said. “When I thought I was going to die, my last thought before you catching me was “She’ll be happier without me. She won’t have to waste her life fixing my monumental fuck-ups.” But when we hit the ground, it wasn’t just the adrenaline or the rush of the moment.” She bit her lip, looking down before chancing a look at Ivy. “Until recently, I’ve been ignoring something.”

 “What?” Ivy asked, sitting on a piece of the rubble and looking up at Harley, feeling like it was better to sit then be floored by whatever Harley was going to say next.

 “The way I feel about you,” Harley said softly. “The kiss…was more then just a thing to me. I didn’t want it to end.” She looked down, digging the toe of her shoe into the dirt. “The closer your wedding gets, the harder and harder it’s been to come to terms with it. I’ve tried to be supportive and be the best friend that’s all “Yeah, bitch, go get what you want! Woo!!” But inside I’m burning alive because the only person that’s ever fucking cared about me is getting married and I’m standing on her left while my heart gets ripped out constantly watching her with the moron she’s going to marry.”

 Ivy bit her lip, looking down and sighing softly. “Harley, what exactly are you saying? Stop beating around the—”

“I fucking love you, and I can’t take it anymore!” Harley yelled, looking at Ivy who looked stunned into silence. “I’ve loved you for fucking years, but I never did anything about it because I was enamored with the fucking assclown and being caught up in my own self-empowerment bullshit! Every minute I see you and Kite Man together, every kiss, every touch, every text or call or “Babe” or whatever, I die a little more inside because I want that to be me, but I was too fucking slow! Too goddamn caught up in my own bullshit to make the move I wanted!” She sank to the ground, tears falling down her cheeks and cutting through the grime. “The kiss…at the Pit was…as close as I’ll ever get to feeling that happy ever again…”

 Ivy blinked, looking at Harley. She stood up and walked over, kneeling beside Harley. “Harls. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” she asked. She took Harley’s hands, squeezing softly and trying to give her friend some comfort.

 “Because…it wouldn’t matter either way,” Harley said, pulling away from Ivy and wrapping her arms around herself. “You’re marrying him, and nothing I say or do or admit is going to change it.” She got up, stepping back. “I, uh…I should go clean up. Gordon’s probably on his way back to arrest me and throw me in a cell for the rest of my life.” She started toward the mall, stopping and biting her lip.

 Ivy got up, looking at Harley’s back as she stopped. She waited for a minute, debating on whether to go and hug her best friend or just leave her be. Her answer presented itself when Harley started walking away, and Ivy reached out softly before she let her hand drop, sinking to the ground again. She felt the tears stinging her eyes, her heart thundering in her chest. “Harley…”

 “Babe?” Kite Man asked as he walked up, tucking his phone into his kite. “Babe, you alright?” He knelt down, rubbing Ivy’s back. “Pam?”

 “Fine,” Ivy said softly. She wiped her eyes as she stood up, biting her lip. “Let’s just go home…nothing more to do here…”

 “You sure? Harley—”

 “Doesn’t need me right now, Chuck. Let’s just fucking go,” Ivy said, walking off and tucking her hands in her pockets.

 Harley sighed as she stood under the shower, dirt and grime washing away. She shut off the water and dried off, getting dressed before she walked back out. “Goddamn it.”

 “What’s wrong?” King Shark asked, looking over as he set his laptop down.

 “Everything. Nothing. I don’t know,” Harley said, sinking down to sit on the table. “All I know is Gordo’s probably on his way to bust me, so you guys are probably better off splitting. You shouldn’t go down with me. I did all of this, so…it’s time to take the fall.”

 “Harley,” Shark said. “You can’t just give up. You have to stay strong.”

 Harley rolled her eyes as she stood up. “Fuck strong. I can’t do any of this anymore,” she said. “Do me a favor. If Gordon rolls up jingling the linked bracelets, tell him to find me at Ace Chemicals.” She went to her room, grabbing a duffle bag before she packed her clothes and walked out, biting her lip.

 Two days later across town, Ivy had done a lot of thinking, too much drinking, and a lot of soul searching with a dash of inner speculation, as well as trying to think of a reason to stay away from Harley even though her heart and gut were telling her to get off of her ass and find the other woman and kiss her until neither of them could breathe. Ivy sighed as she rested her head on her arm, the paper on the table. She unfolded it and laid it out, her eyes widening at the headline.

 “Clown Queen of Crime Arrested. No Chance of Parole”

 “Fuck,” she muttered. “Goddamn it, Harley.” Opening the paper, she found the article to start reading.

 The name Harley Quinn used to be synonymous with the Joker. But in recent months, the former sidekick to the Clown Prince of Crime had branched out on her own, bringing her own brand of destruction and mayhem to Gotham City. Her insane motivations and plans brought down Joker for good, but her victory was short lived as an earthquake leveled most of the city.

 In the months since, the former Arkham Psychiatrist had taken the city back bit by bit from the “Injustice League”, a group of Batman’s major enemies who had divided the city. Her last attempt to destroy Gotham saw her using an army from space, one someone called “Parademons”. However, the attack stopped suddenly, leaving Commissioner Jim Gordon to be able to take back the city for the people of Gotham once again.

 Gordon, having found Harley Quinn at Ace Chemicals, arrested and locked away the villainess, hoping that she would be standing trial in the coming months, once Governmental assistance rebuilds Gotham City.

 “Why the fuck would she have—oh. Oh, Harley, no honey…” Ivy sighed, setting the paper down.

 “Babe?” Kite Man asked, walking in from the bedroom in his signature green robe. “Everything cool?”

 “No,” Ivy said. She looked at her hand where her ring caught the light, biting her lip. “Listen, Chuck…we, um, we need to talk.” She stood up, walking over before kissing her fiancé’s cheek. “You’re wonderful, and I love you, but…”

 “Oh, no. I might know where this is going. The venue called and we’re having to reschedule?”

 Ivy sighed, putting her hand on her face, shaking her head. “No. No, that’s not it at all,” she said. She took Kite Man’s hands, biting her lip. “Listen. Please. I love you, I don’t doubt that. But I…I can’t do this anymore. I…I can’t keep lying to myself.”

 “About what?” Kite Man asked, squeezing Ivy’s hand. “Pam? What’s goin’ on?”

 Ivy sighed softly. “Ever since the other day when Harley commanded the Parademons, I got her to see what she was doing wasn’t what she wanted. I found her a bit later, while you were still snapping pictures of the taco truck, and…I talked to her. She told me something, and I’ve been…struggling with it the last two days.” She ran her hand in her hair, biting her lip softly. “Remember the other night I was kind of nervous and you were asking if I was fine and I played it off as narrowly avoiding death for the hundredth time in eight months and dodged the question like a motherfucker?”

 Kite Man nodded. “Yeah, I remember. You showered and went to bed, and we didn’t even freak out in the sheets like usual.”

 Ivy nodded softly. “The reason I was nervous and less then responsive is…because that night in the Pit, Harley let me go so I could live because she wanted me to have my future with you. The thing is, I don’t want a future without Harley. I saved her from dying, and…when we were topside of the Pit, we um…I kissed her. Like a real “Jesus Christ this is hot and how have I never done this before!?” kiss. It felt different with her.”

 “Hell yeah,” Kite Man said with a grin.

 “No! Not hell yeah!” Ivy said, wringing her hands together. “Chuck, I wanted to keep kissing her. I wanted to tear her clothes off in the middle of the desert and fuck her unconscious. I still want that! Every time I close my eyes to rest or think, all I see is Harley. I—holy shit.”

 “You’re in love with your best friend,” Kite Man said softly, nodding as he looked away. “Right…”

 “Chuck—"

 Kite Man shook his head. “It’s fine. I, honestly, I saw this coming a long time ago. When Freeze turned her into an icicle, all you did was worry. Every time she’s in trouble, you go running. I…”

 Ivy sighed softly, reaching down before taking her ring off. She took Kite Man’s hand, putting the ring in his palm and closing his fingers around it. Leaning up, Ivy kissed his cheek and smiled softly. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I do love you, but…”

 “Not the way you love her,” Kite Man said. “I understand.” He kissed Ivy’s cheek, moving around her to sit on the couch.

 Ivy nodded softly, walking toward the door. “I’ll, um…I’ll be back to get my stuff. Ok?”

 Kite Man shook his head. “I’ll take it to the mall. Give it to the Shark.” He looked away, tossing his helmet on the couch. “Please, just go.”

 Ivy looked down, setting her key for the apartment on the table before she walked out. Making her way downstairs, Ivy walked out of the complex, taking off at a run for GCPD. “Hang on, baby. I’m on the way.”

 Harley laid on her bed in the lockup of GCPD, twirling her hair around her finger softly. “This is what’s best,” she said. “Now I can’t ruin anyone else’s life.” She turned on her side, facing the wall and looking at a picture of herself and Ivy, being the one thing Gordon allowed her to keep. Closing her eyes, Harley willed herself to get over Ivy and learn to move on again.

 A few minutes passed, and Harley’s eyes flashed open as a rumbling sounded outside of her cell. She sat up, looking at the wall before getting up and backing up toward the bars as the wall was punctured, green vines snaking through. The wall was ripped away, Harley’s eyes widening as Ivy stood on her plant, the wall falling to the ground and shattering.

 "Let’s go, babe,” Ivy said, holding her hand out.

 Harley walked forward, stopping before she grabbed her picture and tucked it into her pocket. She reached out and took Ivy’s hand, being pulled onto the plant. “Ive, what the hell are you doing? Gordon’s gonna come after you for busting me out.”

 Ivy smiled. “I don’t care. Let him try,” she said, wrapping her arms around Harley. “Why were you at Ace?”

 Harley hugged Ivy tightly, shaking softly. “I…I was gonna jump into whatever acid was left. Wipe out Harley Quinn, try and bring back Harleen. I…I couldn’t deal anymore.” She sighed softly, biting her lip. “What are you doing here?”

 “I couldn’t leave you,” Ivy said. “Not after the other day.” She stepped off of the plant with Harley, taking her hands.

 “Hey, where’s your ring?” Harley asked, looking at Ivy’s hand. “Ivy.”

 “I gave it back to him,” Ivy said. “I couldn’t do it. After you left me in the rubble the other day, I went to the apartment, and I…I couldn’t even focus on him. I kept replaying everything you told me, and I…I knew I was lying to myself, thinking I could have my happy future with Chuck.”

 “Ivy, no. You have everything you want with him. You can’t throw it all away because of me.”

 “Yes, I can,” Ivy said, putting her hands on Harley’s cheeks. “I don’t want him without you. If I don’t have you, I don’t have my happiness, Harls.”

 “Ivy—"

 “No,” Ivy said, putting her fingers on Harley’s lips. “No more talking. Let’s get out of here before Gordon shows up and we’re all fucked.” She smirked, kissing Harley’s head. “Because when we get home, I’m not letting you go until we’re both thoroughly fucked.”

 Harley smiled softly, nodding. “Alright.”

 As the two took off through Gotham, Harley hoped she wasn’t dreaming and that this was all real. Hiding in back allies and side streets, the pair made their way back to the Mall, leaning against the doors and panting as they tried to catch their breaths.

 “So…where’s—oh, shit—where’s Psycho?” Ivy asked, pushing her hair out of her face.

 “Fucked off,” Harley said, wiping her face and shaking her head. “When I broke up the Staff controlling the Parademons, he said I threw away a chance to rule the world and he wasn’t staying. Good riddance to the little bastard.”

 Ivy sighed, shaking her head. “Ah, well,” she said. “Now. What are we doing?”

 Harley smirked, standing up and taking Ivy’s hand. “I seem to remember something about you not letting me go until we were both thoroughly fucked,” she said.

 Ivy smiled. “I sure as hell did say that, didn’t I?” she asked. She walked forward and lifted Harley up, the blonde squeaking in surprise. Ivy smiled, leaning in and kissing Harley properly, the other woman’s arms going around her neck.

 “I love you,” Harley whispered, nipping Ivy’s lip.

 “I love you,” Ivy said, squeezing Harley’s ass as she carried her upstairs toward Harley’s room.

 Kicking the door closed, Ivy reached up and undid Harley’s shirt, throwing the GCPD branded shirt to the ground before sliding her hands up and squeezing Harley’s tits. “I’ve always seen these in the showers at Arkham and around here, but up close they’re beautiful,” she said, kissing Harley again and smiling.

 Harley giggled, moaning into the kiss as she felt Ivy’s fingers playing with her nipples. “Mmm…glad you like them,” she giggled, reaching between them and undoing Ivy’s coat. She wiggled free and dropped to the ground, pulling Ivy’s coat and white shirt off, tossing them to the floor before pouncing and knocking Ivy onto the bed.

 Ivy laughed, looking up at Harley and smiling. “What do you want to do, baby?” she asked.

 Harley smirked, pulling her pants off and tossing them aside before she removed her panties. “I want to sit on your face until you make me cum,” she said.

 Ivy licked her lips, looking up at Harley as she crawled up the bed. “Then take a seat,” she said, her heart thundering as she watched Harley’s pussy come into view. She looped her arms around Harley’s legs, feeling the other woman’s legs on either side of her head and she pulled her hips down as she stuck out her tongue.

 Harley gasped and moaned as she felt Ivy’s tongue against her for the first time. She leaned forward and gripped the headboard, Ivy’s grip on her legs making it hard for her to move herself. She felt Ivy’s tongue snake its way to her clit, whimpering as Ivy hit it. “Fuck, Ivy…”

 Ivy giggled, moving Harley slightly to stick her tongue into Harley’s pussy, feeling her girlfriend trying to grind against her face. “Mmm…” she moaned, wiggling her tongue against Harley’s clit before moving her fingers around.

 Harley moaned softly, her eyes rolling back in her head. She moved her hand down and tangled her fingers into Ivy’s hair, panting softly. “Ivy…fuck…so close…”

 Ivy slid her tongue through Harley’s lips, teasing her clit before pulling back and looking up at her girlfriend. “Then cum, baby.” She moved back and dove back in, closing her eyes as she kept working her tongue into Harley again.

 Harley panted, her eyes rolling back as she screamed out, her orgasm ripping through her. “FUCK!” she yelled, pushing closer to Ivy and finally getting to be able to grind her clit against Ivy’s tongue, whimpering as she felt Ivy pull away. She fell beside Ivy, panting as she lifted her head up.

 Ivy sat up, licking her lips and wiping her face of Harley’s cum, smiling as she looked at the other woman. “Fuck yes,” she said.

 Harley panted, giggling as she looked over at Ivy. “Soon…as I catch my breath…I’ll fuck you,” she said, covering her face and feeling her entire body tingling. “Holy fuck…nobody’s ever made me cum like that. Where the hell did you learn to eat pussy like that?”

 Ivy smirked, kicking her boots off before she started shuffling her pants down, laying back beside Harley. “Hey, every girls got to have their collegiate lesbian fling. Karen Beecher, mmmm. That girl could eat pussy,” she said. “Taught me and two others how to work tongue and fingers, and goddamn was it great.”

 Harley laughed, sitting up and feeling her legs shaking. “Well, however she taught you, I ever meet her, I’ll probably kiss her. Jesus, nobody’s ever rocked my world like that,” she said, leaning up and kissing Ivy. “I love you.”

 Ivy smiled as she kissed Harley back, playfully flicking the pale woman’s nipple. “I love you, babe.”

[narcoleptic-drag-queen]

may I please ask for 57, 65 & 32 for secret agent/assassin Branjie?

you said ‘jealous secret agents’ and i said ‘JESUS CHRIST YES’

also, this is set in the same universe as this

32 - “But do they fuck you like I did?”

57 - “You’re cute when you’re jealous.” 

65 - “Do you love me? Then act like it.”

O - Secret Agent/Assassin AU

-

“Do you love me?”

Brooke is going to murder someone. Whether it’s Vanjie, herself, or their coordinator is still up for debate. But someone is definitely getting killed, tonight. “Of course,” she grits out, and Vanessa raises an eyebrow.

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course,” Brooke says, rolling her eyes, and Vanjie scowls.

“Then act like it,” she says, and Brooke clenches her jaw, taking in a deep breath through her nose. They’re already in the ballroom, tucked into the corner with their flutes of champagne, and they’ve already made themselves known to the target. It’s probably a little too late to say ‘no’.

“I’m trying,” she says, eventually, and Vanjie snorts.

“Sure, baby. Just don’t talk to Michaels, and we’ll be fine,” she says, her anger seemingly gone in a puff of smoke. 

The ball of frustration in Brooke’s chest is making it very hard to cooperate. “What else am I supposed to do, then?” she snaps. “She’s the only target!”

“Just--” Vanessa pinches her nose, and shoves Brooke towards one of the stone pillars. “Let me loosen her up a bit. We’re old friends, remember? The entire reason why we was told to come here? Just wait here, and wait for my signal.”

Brooke lets Vanjie lead her to the pillar, but the ball of frustration is still there. She feels like she could burst. “I don’t think--”

“Do you want to tell Michelle why Kameron Michaels won’t talk to me anymore? Do you want to explain to her why I couldn’t get her to tell me where to pick her up from work tomorrow for lunch?”

“You used to date her,” Brooke says, defensive. “Can you blame me?”

Vanjie rolls her eyes, but there’s a tiny smile curling at the corners of her lips that she can’t quite keep down. “Key word: used to.” She flicks Brooke’s forehead lightly, and Brooke slaps her hand away. 

“That’s two words.”

“I keep forgetting that you stopped maturin’ after sixth grade,” Vanjie observes, unimpressed, and Brooke lets out an incredulous huff.

“Hey!”

“Stay here,” Vanjie says, pointing at the ground like Brooke is a dog she’s training. “I’m gonna go to my job, this time, hopefully without someone’s snippy comments ruinin’ the mood.”

She turns, flicking her hair over her shoulder as she does, and walks off towards Michaels, who’s watching them with a curious brow lifted. Brooke glares at her, resisting the urge to stick her tongue out at her. Willam’s voice crackles through her earpiece, wry with amusement.

“Is it okay to laugh, now? Is that appropriate?”

Brooke takes a stubborn sip of champagne, watching as Vanessa catches up to Michaels, laughing and waving her hand at Brooke as if to say ‘don’t worry about her, I took care of it’. Brooke thinks that Michaels should be very worried, considering she’s about to tip the first domino leading to the fall of her corporation.

“You’re only supposed to talk to me when it’s pertinent to the mission,” Brooke mutters out of the corner of her mouth, eyes never leaving Vanessa and Michaels. Vanessa subtly sticks her leg out of the slit in her red velvet gown, the gold of her shoe complimenting her warm skin attractively. She gets what she wants: Michaels’s eyes travel up her thigh lustfully, her cheeks flushing a little. Brooke imagines slamming her face into her knee.

“I’d say this is pertinent,” Willam says, pronouncing the word with a sort of bounce. “It did almost screw everything up.”

“Shut up,” Brooke tells her, and she can practically hear Willam shrug, her stupid face practically branded into Brooke’s brain after all of the tech briefings she’s had to give them over the years. 

“Well, if you can do it, so can I,” Willam says, and Brooke can’t wait until they figure out how to kill people over the phone. To her credit, though, Willam does fall silent, so Brooke focuses back on Vanjie, her jealousy once again coming to a boil as she notices that Michaels has wrapped her fingers around Vanessa’s wrist to hold her steady as she laughs.

Vanjie and Michaels start making their way towards her, giggling and far too close, Vanessa wearing her most flirtatious smile. 

Yes, these were their instructions. Yes, they need this information to continue with the mission. Yes, Brooke understands that it isn’t real. 

Brooke has decided that she will kill Michaels tonight.

They come within earshot, Kameron giggling a little drunkenly as Vanjie finishes her sentence, laughter in her voice as well. “...and her quesadillas are even whiter than yours!”

Brooke feels heat creep up her neck at a rapid pace, glaring at the two of them. The fact that Vanessa has the nerve to compare her to Michaels is…. Maybe Brooke will kill Vanjie, as well. A nice two for one.

Kameron chuckles, leaning in close to Vanjie’s ear, but her voice is anything but a whisper when she asks, “But does she fuck you like I did?”

Brooke’s glass explodes.

She jumps a little in shock, flicking her hand to get the champagne and pieces of glass off of her fingers. Vanjie and Michaels’s heads jerk towards her, their eyes wide, and Willam whispers “Oh my god,” into the earpiece, her tone the definition of complete and utter joy.

“Um,” Brooke says intelligently, blushing so hard it feels like her face is on fire. 

Vanjie finally closes her mouth from where it had been open with shock, visibly gathering herself. “Why don’t you go meet me in the car, Brooke?” she says, her voice barely restraining her anger, and Brooke grimaces. She doesn’t want to, especially with the way Michaels’s hand is still curled around Vanjie’s wrist, but she’s less than eager to make Vanessa angrier than she is now.

“Alright,” she says shortly, and she steps around the mess of her shattered champagne flute and starts towards the entrance, her face still flaming.

“How does it feel to be a professional spy?” Willam asks, once Brooke hops into the tech van. She turns to face Brooke with an infuriating smirk on her face, her microphone tilted away from her mouth to keep Vanessa from hearing.

“I hate you,” Brooke tells her, kicking off a heel in frustration. Her feet fucking hurt. “I hate you so, so much.”

“I love you too,” Willam says, and Brooke kicks her other heel at her. It misses by a few inches, and Willam sticks her tongue out at her. Brooke’s anger snaps inside her chest, and she sneers at the other woman, the stress from the ballroom making her all too willing to be needlessly mean.

“Do you know that you’re the most--”

The van doors bang open, and Vanessa climbs in, pulling them shut behind her and turning to the two of them. The sight of her has Brooke’s heart racing, and she lifts an eyebrow, a smart remark on the tip of her tongue.

“What, was Michaels too--”

Vanessa pounces on her, pulling her into a searing kiss, deepening it violently and biting Brooke’s lip a little. Brooke moans and immediately kisses back, pulling Vanjie onto her lap and running her hands all over her soft, velvety dress, feeling her toned muscles shift underneath. She tastes like champagne and Brooke can feel her lipstick smearing across her face, but it only makes her need to kiss harder, to make her mark on her girlfriend. Hers.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Willam says loudly from the tech chair. “I’m in here too, you sluts!”

They break apart reluctantly, Vanessa shooting Willam a shy apology and Brooke’s eyes never leaving Vanjie’s face, a little surprised and very turned on.

“What was that?” she breathes out, and Vanessa giggles, leaning her forehead against Brooke’s, taking advantage of being taller by straddling Brooke. 

“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” she says, and Brooke lets out an incredulous laugh.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Vanessa gives her a dirty grin. “But I think we should talk about it more at the hotel.”

“Yes,” Willam says, throwing her stress ball at them. It bounces off of Vanjie’s shoulder. “Go be nasty in the privacy of your own room. I have to work in here.”

Vanjie’s smirk only gets filthier. Brooke shifts, squeezing her thighs together.

Sounds like she’ll be too busy tonight to kill anyone.

[atths--twice]

Full of Surprises

Finding it hard to concentrate on work with thoughts of a naked Scully in his head, Mulder finds himself in quite a predicament.

Pencil tapping in the silence of the office, he shook his head as he stared at her. After last night, how could she sit there, mere feet from him, business as usual, calm, cool and collected?

That was so her. That was so Scully.

Reports needed to be finished, cases were waiting to be discussed, but how could he do that when the scent and taste of her sated skin was something otherworldly? An X-File he wanted to investigate every second.

He exhaled slowly and shook his head. She affected all of his senses, had always done so, but now… Now he knew the taste of her flesh, the scent of her essence, and the feel of her breaking around him. Watching her crest and crash as she called his name and God’s, was the most beautiful thing he had ever witnessed. And the sight of her naked body as she rode him…

Stop, he demanded himself, shifting his hips, glad that the desk afforded him the luxury of hiding the growing bulge in his pants. He glanced up at her, amazed again at her professionalism.

God, he wanted her. Now.

“Mulder, can you sign this? I’ll take it up to Skinner once you do,” she said, breaking into his very X-rated thoughts, as she stood up and made his predicament a whole lot worse.

She was wearing a knee length skirt today and Christ if it did not hug her curves in all the right places. Her ass, which he had spent years staring at and had bitten lightly last night, earning him a smack as she turned over and laughingly wrapped her legs around him, was perfectly sculpted beneath the tight fabric.

Her blazer was hanging on the back of her chair and her shirt was a short sleeved dark blue button down tucked snugly into her skirt. The top button was undone and as she laid the paper on his desk, he was blessed to a glimpse down her shirt and he nearly groaned out loud.

A black lacy bra covered the pale orbs of flesh he knew were so amazingly soft, they could put the softest cashmere to shame.

Fuck, she was going to be the death of him.

“Mulder?”

“What?!”

She stood up straight, raising her eyebrows at him as she crossed her arms, his voice louder than he had intended.

“Sorry, I meant… I didn’t mean…” He shook his head, no idea what she had said or even why she was standing in front of his desk. His brain deciding instead, that it was the perfect time to recall the feel and taste of her nipple in his mouth.

“I need you to sign this paperwork so I can take it up to Skinner,” she said slowly, pushing the papers toward him. He swallowed, shifting in his seat again, his pants even tighter now.

“Is something wrong, Mulder ? Are you okay?” she asked, concern in her voice.

“Fine,” he answered quickly, signing the paper and handing it back to her, needing her to leave before he took her right there on the desk.

“Okay. Be back in a few minutes,” she said, turning with a nod, her eyes on the paper while his were on her perfect ass.

She walked out the door and closed it behind her. He groaned, dropping a hand to his lap and squeezing his erection, debating if he had time to take care of his problem before she returned.

Standing, knowing he was up against a ticking clock, he tried to make his way quickly to the bathroom down the hall, when the door suddenly opened. He stared, frozen in place, as Scully stepped inside, with a look of incredulity on her face.

“Seriously? You were really going to let me leave when we both knew you were in that state?” She gestured to his crotch and he throbbed, his need for her increasing. “Or were you planning to take care of it on your own? Would you rather I left and you can-”

She did not finish her sentence, as he crossed the room, and pushed her against the door, closing it with the force of their bodies. His mouth crashed down onto hers and she dropped the papers to the floor as she grabbed at his neck.

God, he loved kissing her. Loved the sounds she made and the taste of her mouth. Pulling back, he stared at her, her chest rising and falling, finding that another button had been undone and the black lace teasing him.

“You said not at work. I was respecting what you… we agreed upon, ” he panted out as she began to undo his buckle.

“I say a lot of things, Mulder,” she murmured, now undoing the button and zipper. “A lot of… crazy things. Would you like me to keep talking?”

“Fuck no.”

“Good answer.”

Her hand slid into his boxers and he groaned at the sensation of her small hand wrapping around his large length. She stroked him and he exhaled sharply. His hands landed on the door to hold himself steady as he pitched forward, trapping her between it, and his body.

“Is this what you wanted, Mulder? To get off like this or...?” She squeezed and his knees went weak as he grasped her wrist roughly, causing her to gasp and her breathing to increase.

“I thought you said no more talking?” he growled, pulling her hand from inside his pants and pushing into her as he placed her arm against the door above her head.

“I’ll stop talking if you can show me a better use for your mouth,” she panted, her breasts heaving.

“Jesus Christ, Scully,” he growled, releasing her hand and untucking her shirt from her skirt, pulling it open, the buttons flying across the office and pinging as they landed on the floor.

“God yes,” she moaned, as he dropped to his knees, his hands sliding under her skirt and pushing it up her thighs, not finding stockings, but matching black lace panties.

“I swear to Christ,” he groaned, his hands going around to grab her ass and bring her to his mouth. Her panties were already wet and God she smelled exquisite. He opened his mouth and exhaled his warm breath against her panties and she pulled at his hair.

Hard.

“Quit fucking around,” she said through gritted teeth. “That’s worse than the chit chat. Either do it or don’t… fuck, Mulder!” She yelped as he pulled from her grip and slid a finger under her panties and inside of her.

God, she was so wet. It made him harder than he thought possible, until she lifted a leg and laid it on his shoulder, pushing her hips closer to his mouth. Pulling her panties aside, he breathed her in and watched as his finger slid in and out, adding a second finger and then his tongue.

“Mmmmulder… fuck,” she cried out and he grinned, opening her further and sucking her clit, his fingers continuing to pump in and out of her. Flicking her clit with his tongue, his fingers went faster, recognizing the signs of her imminent climax.

“Don’t stop, Mulder. I’m… Jesus, I’m going to come.” She gripped his hair harder than before as he curled his fingers and flicked his tongue faster. Her leg on his shoulder tensed, and he felt her come. “Ohhhh oh oh my god. Mulder, oh ohhhhhhhh.” She held him tightly, her fingers digging into his head, as her breathing slowly returned to normal.

As he felt her relax, he lapped at her release. God, she was delicious. Pulling back with a final lick, he moved her leg and removed his fingers from inside her body.

Grabbing the waistband of her panties, he pulled them down and off, but left her heels as they were. The image of taking her against the door with her heels on, as they pushed into him, nearly made him come.

He stood up and stared at her shirt pulled open, the buttons scattered around the office, and her skirt bunched around her waist. God, she had never looked sexier.

Pushing his pants down, he lifted her, and her legs wrapped around him. They stared at one another, both of them breathing hard.

And then those heels, the ones that had driven him wild for years, pushed hard into his ass, and he slid inside of her, causing them both to gasp and curse.

“Take me,” she whispered, clawing at him. One hand at his back, her fingernails pressing hard through his shirt and the other digging into his head.

He began to pound into her, the door rattling as her need to be taken was matched by his own desire to take and not be gentle. Not this time.

He held her ass and drove harder, causing her to moan and hold onto him tighter. He dropped his head to her chest and nipped at her flesh, her growl telling him that she liked it, and he did it again.

“Fuuuuck,” she breathed and he stilled, taking a second to catch his breath. Raising his head, he looked at her and she pulled his mouth down to hers, breathing into it, giving him the air he needed.

Pulling his mouth from hers, he began to go faster, far too gone to wait anymore. “Yes, Mulder, yes,” she moaned, her hand at his neck, nails digging deeply into his flesh.

Her heels pushed against his ass and that was all it took; he thrust into her deeply and he came, feeling her tightening around him, her body milking his further. She whimpered as he dropped his head to her chest again, her hands in his hair.

“Mmmm. My… Mulder. My God,” she breathed, her words coming out in heavy pants, and he hummed in response. “So that… that no sex at work agreement… what was I thinking?”

“You weren’t,” he stated, kissing her clavicle, her neck and then her lips, their tongues slowly tasting each other.

“God, that was… sexy as hell. Not even time to undress properly, and I’m still wearing my heels.”

“Mm-hmm,” he groaned and she smiled.

“Oh, I see…” she said, raising her eyebrows as she scratched at his scalp.

“I’d say we discovered a few things about each other today,” he said, raising his own eyebrows with a smirk on his face, remembering how she responded when he used a firmer hand.

“Indeed,” she replied, biting her lip, her eyes shining as understanding was shared between them.

He nodded and kissed her again before setting her down gently, her legs a bit wobbly on her heels. She placed a hand on his chest and tugged at his tie, pulling his mouth to hers, kissing him thoroughly.

He stepped back and pulled up his pants, as she pushed her skirt down. Attempting to close her shirt, she shook her head with a laugh and tucked it in her skirt.

“Worth it,” she said, grinning at him as she shrugged.

“I’ll buy you another shirt,” he promised.

“Only if you promise to treat it like this one,” she said, walking to her desk and picking up her blazer. Arranging her shirt, she put it on and buttoned it, the damage to the shirt nearly unnoticeable. She grinned and then looked down at the papers with a sigh.

“I got it,” he said, bending down to pick them up, arranging them in a neat stack, and putting them back in the folder. He saw her panties and picked them up as he stood up and presented them to her.

She looked down and took only the folder with a saucy grin. “I’ll take these to Skinner and be back soon,” she said, opening the door, walking out and closing it behind her, leaving him holding her panties, her perfect ass, bare and swaying in the breeze.

Not to mention other body parts.

“Christ on the cross,” he muttered as he placed her panties in his pocket. He blinked his eyes and shook his head, the realization beginning to sink in that they did indeed have sex in their office.

And now, she was heading upstairs to turn in their report to Skinner — sans panties. Was she not just full of surprises?

He grinned slowly, as he stepped over to his desk and sat down to await Scully’s return. It was time they had a discussion and reached a new agreement because that had been hot as hell. Up against their office door… how many times had he had that fantasy?

Licking his lips, the taste of her still lingering, he knew it would not be difficult to convince her to add some changes. He glanced down, imagining her naked ass on his desk as he knelt before her, worshipping her body. The sensory overload of that image made him breathe deeply as his head began to spin.

Best to plan ahead. Be prepared, he thought, looking at his cluttered desk. Picking up and securing all his breakable items, he made sure to create a decent sized work space, the images in his head fairly scandalous.

The door opened and he looked up. She stepped inside and closed the door, remaining against it, a knowing smile on her face as her eyes held his. He gestured to the desk and she raised her eyebrows.

“Let’s have a chat, shall we?” he asked, with a smile, assuming she would sit in the chair across from him, and they could discuss new details to their agreement.

She remained full of surprises however, and came around the desk, sitting on the spot he had just cleared. Her feet, in those fantasy creating heels, landed on either side of him and she grinned as he swallowed hard.

“Yes, Mulder, let’s have that chat.”

[mrsbhandari]

Artsy as Fuck - Cups

A/N: Hii!! so I was actually going to put this series on hiatus because I wasn’t really getting super inspired by it, but then @lovehugsandcandy​ commented something that made me think!! so yeah thank you so much for your lovely thoughts on this series as it lives on another chapter!

Word count: 2245

Warnings: language

Summary: Colt has a conversation with both of the Wheelers. He can see a few similarities.

Tag List:

@omgjasminesimone, @edgiestwinter, @bucketofsoup, @donutsgirl36, @desireepow-1986, @lovehugsandcandy, @troublemakerinspace, @client-327

Masterlist

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“My mother liked it here.” Colt’s eyes snapped up to hers, meeting an open and vulnerable gaze across the table. 

“What?”

“My mom. She died when I was young. Murdered in the street. This was her favorite restaurant.” All at once, Roze’s stare hardened and her tone changed to defensive and cold. For a split second, Colt was scared. “It’s not important.”

“Well, Jesus, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s not like we’re dating or anything,” she mocked, a twinkle of amusement replacing the stony hatred in her eye and easing some of the tension. Colt wondered how long she had been doing that; confronting her pain only to hide behind a mask. “I thought that coming here would be good, so we can get to know each other better.”

Flashes of the morning crept into his mind. “I think we’re very well acquainted, don’t you?” He silently cursed himself for not taking anything seriously, but the small giggle she hid behind a stained hand erased the thought from his mind like an undo button. Her other hand covered his own and his heart began to race.

“How about….emotionally acquainted?” she said, ripping her hand away when she thought harder about her words. “You know...to be more convincing for Ingrid.” She cleared her throat, leaving Colt to hope that it covered the sound of his heart dropping to his shoes. “Ask me whatever you like.”

Looking at her encouraging smile slightly downplayed the rush of scenarios depicting this going horribly wrong that raced through Colt’s mind, but not by much. Nonetheless, he sighed and thought of an easy question with little to no consequences. “Favorite color?”

“Seriously?” Colt shrugged. “Purple. Yours?”

“Black.”

“That’s not a color.”

“Don’t go all ‘pretentious art student’ on me.”

She laughed again, but it was fuller this time. It formed a hazy bubble around Colt’s mind. “Fine. Your turn.”

“This is a game?”

“Just ask questions. And make it uncomfortable this time. Don’t be scared.”

“Uh...okay, what was your first impression of me?”

There was a flash of surprise in her eyes that was quickly replaced with a long, thoughtful look as she tried to come up with an answer. Colt considered if she was debating lying or not, but she finally came up with an answer. 

“I thought you were arrogant and conceited.” Her tone was certain and obvious, as if she hadn’t spent time to arrive at a response. 

“Explain.”

“It’s not your turn.” A playful gleam accompanied the deep brown of her irises.

“It’s not a question, and I’m not asking.”

“Mm,” she hummed, and he decided not to mention the shiver he saw go down her spine, electing to tuck it away for later instead. “Well, you were naked, so I wasn’t completely in the right headspace. But you were naked and seemed to be fine with it...which is fine, it’s just…” she trailed off, eyes flitting between his to try and find the right words between his eyelashes. “You had this smirk.”

Colt raised an eyebrow.

“I saw it and immediately thought, ‘Wow, this guy’s an asshole.’” She popped another piece of chicken into her mouth, surely cold by now. 

“Hm.” Colt gave a smirk. 

“There! That’s the one. I was right about it, you know.”

“You think I’m arrogant?”

“Yup.”

“And conceited?”

“‘We need to prove to Ingrid that you can get a guy as hot as me!’” she imitated, dropping her voice and mimicking his smug smile. He hated that it was actually a pretty decent impression. 

“Alright, alright,” he surrendered, holding his hands up. “I’m exactly what people think I am: an asshole.”

“Mm…” She pursed her lips. “I think there’s more to you. I’m coming around. Although that first impression was forever captured in that drawing, I’m afraid.”

Colt recalled the haughty, regal look she drew with her first assignment and smiled at the memory. “I don’t know. I kinda liked how you made me look. Plus, you’re crazy fast!”

“Really?”

“Yeah! Everyone else only did my body, but you had time for face and everything. Very impressive.” She liked the way his eyes lit up at the thought of her art; it filled her stomach with butterflies. “It’s your turn.” 

“Oh! Uh, why do you not like cars?” Colt’s eyes dropped to his empty plate and his eyebrows furrowed. He stayed silent so long, Roze worried she hit a nerve, but he finally opened his mouth to speak, looking like the action pained him. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I can ask another question.” He nodded, giving her a small smile that eased the tensions in her shoulders. “Well, what was your first impression of me?”

“Innocent,” he answered, no hesitation. 

“What?!” Her surprised face sent him into a fit of boisterous laughter, face flushing as he caught the attention of other customers at surrounding tables. 

“Your….face!” he wheezed, face filled with uninterrupted glee. Even though he was laughing at her, she couldn’t help but laugh with him. He had an unexpectedly contagious laugh, one that he rarely let out in public--or ever. She took a sip of her water, hoping that it would cool down the heat that spread to her neck. “Ah, that was priceless!”

“How about you tell me why you thought that, meanie?” She picked off a piece of asparagus and threw it across the table at him, hitting him harmlessly in the cheek before falling to his plate. 

“When I got undressed and was posing and stuff, you got really flustered. I figured that you hadn’t really seen...anything like that.” He wiggled his eyebrows, cheeks still red. “I was wrong, judging by your lovely performance this morning.” 

“Tch. Whatever. It’s your turn.”

“Hm...why do you pay cash for everything?” 

“What?”

“You always pull out cash when you have to pay. At the garage and here. Why?”

“Oh, um.” She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “My dad is...weird about my money. He’s just protective, but he tracks my accounts and stuff. It’s just a habit to pay with cash so he doesn’t worry about it.” Colt hummed, not wanting to push her. “I’m not like...rich, or anything like that. Did you think I was?”

It was Colt’s turn to shift in his seat. “Well...kind of. You would just pull out wads of bills and I thought--” He cut himself off, trying to avoid offending her. She nodded. 

“No, I understand. I must’ve looked really pretentious, huh?” Her voice sounded small, and Colt knew that this was a sore spot for her, so he didn’t want to patronize her. Luckily, their conversation was cut short by her phone ringing, a soft piano melody rising from her purse. 

“Dad, hey! What’s--Yeah, I’m with him.” Roze gave him a small wink, trying to lessen the awkwardness of Colt listening to the one-sided conversation. “Bring...him?” Her eyes went wide as they met Colt’s. “Uh…” He frantically shook his head, trying to convey that it was not a good idea. “Sure!” Colt gave a look, eyebrows knit and mouth partially open in shock. She finished her call and gave a sheepish smile. 

“Roze, I don’t do parents.”

“It’s only one.”

“...I don’t do parent.”

“I hope not, that’d be awkward.” Colt sent her an exasperated expression. “It’s not that bad!”

“What have you even told him about our...unique situation?”

“That I was seeing a guy from my art class, that’s it.”

“That’s what you told him? He’s going to think I’m some artist guy.” She shook her head slightly, asking him to elaborate. “I’m a mechanic, Roze. Far cry from ‘cool artist worthy of your daughter.’”

“It’s technically true that you’re from my art class, so you have no reason to worry.”

“What if he doesn’t like me?”

“It’s likely.”

“Roze!”

“I’m preparing you! He’s a detective and very...gruff. He’ll have to warm up to you.”

“How do I get him to do that?”

“Be yourself.”

“Bullshit.”

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

“Roze and friend! Come in.” The man, Mr. Wheeler, greeted them with a warm smile that made Colt wonder if Roze lied just to see him sweat about making a good impression on her father. The couple walked in, hand-in-hand, and Colt looked around, loving the small, cozy feeling of the house. It really felt like home. Roze detangled her fingers from his own, and he felt the feeling dim ever so slightly.

“Hello, sir. I’m Colt.” He grasped Mr. Wheeler’s hand in his own, nearly wincing at the death grip the older man had. Looking closer, Colt realized that the smile didn’t reach her father’s eyes. Shit.

“So I’ve heard; Rosemary doesn’t stay quiet about you.” Colt held in his surprise at hearing her full name.

“Dad!”

“Oh, come on, Roze. I have to embarrass you.”

“Mhm.” 

“Can you get us some drinks? I’ll have a beer,” he requested, eyeing Colt as if testing him. 

“Just water for me, I drove.” A slight flicker of approval in Mr. Wheeler’s eyes told Colt he passed. Roze walked to the kitchen, leaving the two men alone. 

“Yes, drove a motorcycle?” 

“Yes, sir.” Colt sat with almost obnoxiously good posture, trying to discreetly wipe his sweaty palms on the pants of his overalls.

“Hm.” Mr. Wheeler’s face barely changed, but Colt could feel the judgement radiating off him. To avoid digging himself further into any holes, he elected to stay silent and let Roze’s father do all the asking. Briefly, Colt thought of how he didn’t need to impress him; this is all fake. Roze isn’t really his girlfriend. There was no reason he couldn’t just walk out of this house right now. He remembered the feeling of her hand in his and thought hard about what exactly he was doing here, but Mr. Wheeler interrupted the discussion Colt was having with himself. “You ever had an accident on one of those things?”

“No, sir.” Colt could hear the noise in the kitchen and prayed that Roze would come back. Until she did, he tracked her sound to help distract from the icy glare that was so far removed from what he associated with his girlfriend, he wondered if she was adopted. 

“Never?” Clink! Roze was taking a bottle out of the fridge.

“No, I always take the utmost care with my bike. It was a gift from my mother.” A soft ksh. She closed the fridge. 

“Your mother?” Psh-psh. Roze’s bare feet on the tile as she walked through the kitchen. 

“Yes, she’s on the east coast. I used to live with her but moved here to be closer with my dad.” A hollow thunk. A plastic cup being set down on the counter. 

“What does your father do?” Multiple high pitched taps. Ice being put into the cup. 

“He owns a garage, I’m a mechanic there.” Colt pointed to the small logo embroidered above his name tag on his outfit, focusing on the loud shh from the faucet. Roze was pouring the water. 

“Ah,” Mr. Wheeler nodded his head in understanding as Roze walked back to where the two men were sitting in the dining room. “You’ll have to forgive me for not connecting the dots with your outfit; I thought you were a stripper.”

“Colt had been sipping his water as his anxiety had dried his tongue, but Mr. Wheeler’s admission made him choke and sputter. “Sir?”

“Dad!” Roze sent her father a glare, and Colt realized that her cold expression was actually pretty similar. 

“What? C’mon, I’m just playing with the kid. Plus, you said he’s from your art class, and I read that art pays so little that some do have to resort to that line of work.” He casually took a sip of his beer while Colt sent confused glances over to Roze. 

“He’s not an artist, Dad. He’s been the model for a few classes. I’ve drawn him; that’s how we met.”

Her father perked up, sending an interested glance towards Colt, who prepared himself for anything else completely random that could possibly be said. 

“Nude?” Mr. Wheeler asked, a playful smirk complemented by a dangerous look in his eyes. 

“Okay! That’s enough chatting. Colt needs to get back to the garage, right?”

“Uh, yes. It was a pleasure meeting you, sir.”

“Likewise.” Mr. Wheeler waved a bored hand as Colt was dragged out the door and across the street by a fuming a ranting Roze.

“--so disrespectful, I can’t believe it! He always does this and acts stupid! Stripper? Because you don’t make money with art?!” They reached Colt’s bike, Roze’s voice rising until Colt was sure that her father could hear her outburst from inside. 

“Hey, hey,” Colt cooed, pulling her flush against his body without a second thought. Hesitantly, she wrapped her arms around his wrist, nuzzling her face into his neck as best she could. The hug was tender, far more tender than Colt every believed he could be with another human being. They stood like that for minutes before she wordlessly pulled away, face flushed. Colt gave her a small wave as he climbed on his bike and secured his helmet, riding off with a small “see ya.”

She crossed the street and slammed her door shut after entering, sending another glare her father’s way. He was still on the couch, looking at her with an amused smile. “Was that really necessary, Dad?”

“I liked him.”

[unloveable-unreachable]

You’re the One My Heart Wants- Chapter 5

Word Count: 2,729 (oof still a little short, oh well I’ll make it up to y’all in later chapters. Don’t worry ;) )

Warnings: There’s a lot of sensitive topics being talked about, especially family problems and coming out stories. If that can be triggering to you then please don’t read this chapter. & Swearing

Author: Me

Y/N POV

“Alex? What’s wrong?” I ask, feeling sober after seeing her upset. She looks at me for a moment before sighing and looking down at her hands. “I just had a lot going on. I wanted to clear my head, so I started driving around. And for some reason, I ended up here. I knocked on your door but you weren’t here, so I just figured I’d sit here and wait for you to get home. I’m sorry for not texting you back earlier...” Alex answers without making eye contact with me. I’ll admit the whole situation was confusing as fuck to me but in some weird way, I understood. “No that’s okay, Alex. Really. You can always come here if you need someone to talk to about whatever you need. But can you tell me why you’re crying?” I ask while stepping closer to her. That must have set something off in her because she just started crying more.

I immediately feel bad, because my dumb drunk ass just made her cry even more than she already was. What a dumbass. I move to sit next to her on the step she was sitting on, and wrap her up in a hug trying to comfort her. She just cries harder into my shoulder. I want to calm her down so I can understand why she’s crying, but that doesn’t seem to be happening anytime soon. We sit there for a while in silence trying to get her to calm down. When she finally does, she just looks up at me with her beautiful eyes. Even when they’re all bloodshot and red, I still manage to get lost in them. Damn, she was still so beautiful even when she was a crying mess, and honestly, it didn’t help the crush I already had on her. I was so fucked. “I’m...just...so sorry about last night, Y/N,” she finally says. I look at her confused. She didn’t have anything to be sorry about. “Do you want to come inside and talk about it?” I ask, not breaking eye contact with her. She nods and we both head inside.

Once inside, I let Luna out back and lead Alex to the kitchen. I don’t know why. She was here last night, she obviously knew where the damn kitchen was. I get us both some water from the fridge because I definitely didn’t need any more alcohol tonight and she needs to drink something to keep from getting dehydrated. As I sit down, I check my phone before getting ready to have my conversation with Alex. I get a message from Ali:

“Hey, was that Alex sitting on your steps when we left??”

“Can’t talk right now. I’ll fill you in tomorrow in the car.”

“Okay...let me know if you need anything, kiddo. I love you.”

“I love you too, mom.”

I put my phone away as Alex sits across from me. To say just sitting there in silence was awkward would be an understatement. You can feel it in the air, it was like neither of us wanted to start the conversation. “So you wanted to talk about last night?” I say, finally breaking the awkward silence. Alex looked like she was thinking really hard about what to say while staring into my eyes. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I know we don’t really know each other that well. And I ruined any chance of that changing by kissing you last night,” she says while looking down at her hands. I look at her trying to get her to look up from her hands, taking everything in that I just heard. I let out a sigh and rub my temples, debating what to say. I don’t want to fuck anything up but I need to be honest with her. After a moment I quietly say, “You didn’t ruin anything.”

Alex’s POV

My heart drops to my stomach after hearing her say those words. My eyes shoot up from my hands to meet hers. I study her face looking for any sign that she was joking, but there aren’t any. She gives me a small smirk, the same smirk that makes me catch my breath, letting me know she’s being honest. I look into her eyes again, they’re back to that enchanting green-blue that they were last night. Fuck, those damn eyes. Seriously, who’s eyes change as much as hers do? Like it’s the most beautiful and aggravating thing for me to see, just because it makes my heart ache at the sight of them. Shit, she probably thinks I’m staring again. I shake my head, trying to get out of the trance of her eyes and focus on what we’re talking about.

“What has Kelley told you about my past? And don’t act like you don’t know, I know Kelley can’t keep every secret I tell her,” I say, knowing my best friend has trouble keeping her mouth shut, especially after a few drinks. Y/N looked down at her hands before saying anything. She glances up slightly before looking back down as she says, “All she told me was that you and Servando split up because he didn’t support your life choices and that he said he could never love someone like you. She also said that your divorce was final right at the beginning of the season, and that was why you haven’t been acting like yourself lately. And that you needed friends here since she’s gone most of the time, so I told her I’d be your friend and look out for you for her,” Y/N says, not looking at me till the last part. I nod my head when she finishes. Of course Kelley would tell her that, I’ll have to remember to get on to her along with thanking her.

I sigh, knowing that I’m about to spill my guts out to someone I hardly knew. “I’m going to tell you a secret that you can’t tell anyone, okay?” she nods, bringing all of her attention to me. “I’ll tell people in my own time, that just isn’t right now. So I’m trusting you with this,” I say giving her a serious look. “I promise not to tell anyone else,” she states. I let out a long sigh. “Back when I was younger, my family supported everything I did. I was very fortunate for that, and I still am to this day. I thought I knew who I was, but when I got to college something changed, I don’t know how to explain it. It just felt like something changed within me. I felt like I couldn’t be who I wanted to be to the fullest extent. Like, I wanted to be a soccer star and share my success with someone I love. I got the first part down, but that last part was hard to come by.” I pause, trying to collect my thoughts.

“So when I met Servando I thought that I had found it. Everything I wanted. I was happy, and my family was happy. Things seemed to be right in my life, but it all changed in 2016. We lost the Olympics, which you know because you were there, and I wasn’t happy for a while. I didn’t want to be around Servando for long periods of time, and that just made him mad all the time. I spent so much time with my friends that I had a lot of time to think about my life and if I was happy with it. I knew something was off about my relationship choices. I sort of experimented in college, but I thought it was nothing at the time. But in reality, it stuck with me throughout my adult life and I realized it was something I wanted, even when I was with Servando. That’s when I started being honest with myself and my feelings. I came out as bisexual to Kelley and Allie first, and honestly, I was so worried about their reactions. In reality, I didn’t need to be. Kelley pulled me into the tightest hug and Allie was so proud of me that she started crying before hugging me. I knew after telling them that I had to tell my family and Servando because I couldn’t lie anymore. I was even more afraid to tell them, but my family supported me like they always do like my mom has never hugged me so hard and told me how much she loved me that much before that day, but Servando reacted differently than I expected.” I stopped before I started crying. Y/N reached out and touched my arm, comforting me. “It’s okay. Take your time,” she says softly.

I gave her a soft smile as I continued, “He just yelled at me saying I lied to him for 2 years of marriage. He said that I wasted his time and that he deserved better. While he yelled, I just sat there and listened to what he had to say. After he finished, I asked him if this changed how he felt about me, and all he said was that he needed time. Honestly, I don’t know how I expected him to react, but it wasn’t that. A few days later he told me that he didn’t love me like he used to because he couldn’t love someone like me. He wouldn’t force himself to love me the same way anymore. So for the next 3 years, I went through appearances and award shows with him, while we went through a divorce. And Kelley was right when she said it was final at the beginning of the season, and that I’ve been acting off lately.” When I finished my story I just sat and waited for her to say something.

She sat there lost in her thoughts for a few moments. Even lost in thought, she’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen and I can’t help but stare at her again. When she finally comes to a decision, she looks me right in the eyes before saying, “He didn’t deserve you. You deserved better than what he gave you, Alex. You deserve someone who’s going to love you and always be there for you no matter what.” She looked serious, and to be honest, it was fucking hot. I take a moment to take in everything she said. She’s right, I do deserve someone who loves me no matter what and would never leave me. Would I ever find that person though? I think I already have, but I don’t want to get ahead of myself and ruin anything. “Thank you, Y/N. That really means a lot,” I say, smiling softly at her.

Y/N POV

Jesus Christ this day has been weird. First that damn hike with my moms, having Ali show her emotions to me for the first time, finding Alex’s note, my family meltdown in front of my moms, another heart-to-heart with Ali and this time including Ash, and then now having this talk with Alex. I deserve so many drinks right now, it’s unreal. Alex just spilled her whole heart to me, even though we weren’t that close. Maybe after tonight, we could actually be friends, I mean that’s what Kelley wanted to happen after last night. I wouldn’t want to pressure her into being something more since she still seemed to be in a sensitive place. She deserves a friend who she can talk to about what’s going on in her head when Kelley and Allie aren’t around. I could be that friend to her if she’d let me.

I think about my next words carefully because I don’t want to make the night even more awkward, but she just shared a secret with me I might as well tell her mine too. I should clear this up first, I’m gay and proud of it but since I was hiding it from my family I never felt the need to come out to my teammates. Ali just figured I was and asked to clarify because she knew I probably wouldn’t have told her otherwise, so, in turn, Ash knows. I’ve only actually come out to Sonny, Lindsey, Tobin, and Sammy. And that only happened on a night we were all drinking and Sammy brought up her husband (boyfriend/fiancé at the time) and I said, “Damn I wish I had a girlfriend I could spoil as much as Pat spoils you, Sammy.” So yeah, they know. 

“Since we’re sharing secrets,” I say as she seems to relax after telling me about her past, “My family disowned me recently, actually today to be exact, because they didn’t approve of my life choices.” Alex gives me a concerned look, “What do you mean they disowned you? For what life choices?” I sigh before telling her, “For my whole life I’ve been the disappointment of my family no matter what I do. My two sisters are both happily married to men and have kids of their own. My mom called me today and told me that it was time for me to find a husband, and not focus on soccer so much. I told her I don’t need a husband and that I don’t want anything to do with men because I’m gay,” I look over at Alex, trying to read her face. I can’t figure her out sometimes, she puts on a stone-cold look most of the time so she can be hard to read. She gives me a sad, comforting look. “My mom hung up on me, and now I have no contact with my family. Believe me, I tried to get her back on the phone and the phone wouldn’t even ring. The only people who know about this besides you is Ali and Ash, and that’s because they were here during the phone call. Well and also because they’re my family, and they have been since the World Cup. That’s why I’m always with them after training and during our off days,” I say as Alex smiles at the last part because she knew Krashlyn took me in as their own.

 Alex takes in everything I just spilled to her. Which was a lot, I feel bad for spilling it all to her but she deserved to know after last night. I try not to make eye contact with her while she thought everything through, but I sneak glances at her blue eyes. They calmed me down almost as much as her smile and laugh did. I wonder if I’ll ever get to hear her laugh again, hopefully, sooner rather than later. After sitting in silence she says, “Well now that makes sense why you’re always with them. If I’m being honest, a lot of the girls were wondering why you were always with them, now I know. And your family was wrong to do that to you.” She makes eye contact with me just before saying, “You’re perfect the way you are, don’t let them get to you. You’re loved by our whole club and the National Team.” I smile at her and she smiles back, brighter than I’ve ever seen.

“So look, last night doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to,” I say to her. She gives me a confused look. “We don’t know that much about each other, but we can learn about each other as friends. Kelley was right, and I know we both hate to admit that, you deserve friends around you to help you through things.” Alex nods at me while thinking the whole situation through. “I don’t regret what happened last night,” she whispers, loud enough for me to hear. I give her a soft smile. “I don’t regret it either, but I’m not going to force you into anything you aren’t ready for,” I say, causing her to look up at me with those piercing eyes again. Those fucking eyes, I swear they’re going to pierce right through me one of these days and I’d be completely okay with it. She smirks at me, like a smirk that’ll stop your heart, thinking about her next sentence hard.

“No, I’m ready. Do you want to go out with me tomorrow after training?”

To Be Continued