#SHAKES FIST AT STAFF why did you have to ruin a good thing

[undead-potatoes]

Every day I miss the old xKit and how customizable it was

[idy-ll-ique]

unlike any other

pairing: mob boss!bucky barnes x maid!f!reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut (AH THE HOLY TRINITY)

warnings: mention of blood, mention of wounds,,,,,,,,, sex (but only a lil bit)

requested: nope

word count: 1.8k

summary: bucky barnes, among many things, owns a strip club. y/n works there as a maid, but she has only recently joined so she has no idea who he is. one day, she catches him napping in one of the private rooms after closing time and, not knowing that he owns the place, asks him to leave because it's a "staff only" room. mesmerized by her, he leaves without a word but a few days later, she finds out who he truly is. sparks fly? sparks fly.

author's note: hiya peeps! enjoy!

masterlist

---

James Barnes was tired.

All he wanted to do was go home and get a good night's sleep, but this moron in front of him was proving it to be very difficult. "What aren't you getting about my plan, Johnson?" he growled, a deep glare etched on his face as he disdainfully stared at one of the men who worked for him. "Why are we doing this at all?" Oh, Johnson has quite the mouth on him, can't wait to break all his fucking teeth.

"Are you the boss or am I?" Bucky countered, putting his arms up, exasperated. Johnson was about to reply when Bucky decided he was too tired to deal with him at all. "You know what, how about we talk tomorrow, hm? Leave, now." With an audacious huff, Johnson got up and left the room. As soon as he was gone Bucky groaned loudly.

"That man," he muttered to himself, "Is a fucking idiot. I'm gonna have to talk to Sam tomorrow, why did he even suggest—" Bucky then relaxed back onto the couch he was sitting on, leaning further and further back until he was simply lying down, head resting on the armrest.

James Barnes was tired.

And he needed a fucking nap.

James Buchanan Barnes. He commonly went by the name Bucky, and he ran the biggest, most affluent mob in the city. Currently, he was at a strip club that he owned, which also had private rooms for… basically hooking up, but he never used it for that, using it only to hold meetings with potential allies or his men.

He dozed off on the couch but was able to sleep for only about 30-45 minutes before someone was shaking him awake.

---

“Phew, last room! Why does this place have so many rooms?” Y/N grumbled to herself, opening the door to the private room. She was a maid recently hired by the club, and her job was to clean up all the private rooms after the closing time. They paid her well so she didn’t mind doing the job. When she opened the door, though, she noticed a man sleeping on the couch.

All his clothes were still intact and his hair was also done nicely… She scrutinized him for a while longer, taking note of his handsome, chiselled features and how he dripped of power even when he was asleep. Finally, a few minutes later, she decided to wake him up. However powerful he might seem, the rooms after closing were for staff only and he needed to leave.

“Excuse me, sir?” Y/N gently shook his shoulders, startling him awake. He blinked his eyes open and in his hazy state of mind, he thought there was an angel standing above him. “What?” he yawned and Y/N offered him a sheepish smile. “Sorry, you gotta go, the club is closed for the night and this is a staff-only room,” she told him and he blinked.

She didn’t know him? “I, uh, yeah, I’m sorry,” he complied, sitting up. He took in her appearance as well; she was wearing a cheesy maid’s costume that fit the aesthetic of the strip club perfectly, yet there was a sort of innocence to her, the kind that would make even the most cold-hearted and powerful of them all want to cater to her every whim without question.

“Uh… see ya around,” she raised her eyebrows and Bucky offered her a quick smile, getting out of the room. “Behaving like he owns the place,” Y/N scoffed to herself as she began cleaning up the mess in the room starting with the empty alcohol bottles. She couldn’t stay mad at him for long, though- his handsome face could make anyone’s heart melt. As the thought passed through her head, a small smile bloomed on her face.

Oh stranger, I really hope we meet again soon.

As Bucky drove home, he, too, thought of the maid. Who was she? Why had he never seen her before? And why didn’t she know him? That night, as he went to bed for the second time, all he saw in his dreams was a lovely maid’s costume and a pretty, pearly white smile.

---

“I’m firing that guy,” Bucky told Sam determinedly. A few days had passed since Bucky’s meeting with Johnson and he was more determined than ever to get rid of the guy. Something about Johnson seemed off. “Wh- You hired that guy like a week ago, what happened? He used to work with Pierce and Rumlow before, he can give us valuable intel-”

“What if he never stopped?” Sam quieted at the retort. “He told us how horribly they treated their own men,” Sam answered a little while later. “What if he’s lying?” Bucky asked impatiently. “Give him a chance-” Just then, there was a knock on the door. “Come in,” Bucky sighed and Johnson poked his head in. “Got a minute, boss?”

“Oh sure, come in, we were just discussing you! Have a seat!” Sam raised an eyebrow at Bucky’s sudden cheerfulness as Johnson happily bounded into the room, plopping down on the couch. “What were you discussing?” he questioned. “How I was just about to fire you,” Bucky smirked and Johnson’s face fell.

He didn’t speak for a few minutes, causing Sam and Bucky to glance at each other. “Hello…?” All of a sudden Johnson stood up with a fit of rage. “Damn it, Barnes, you ruin everything!” Bucky shouted triumphantly as Sam gasped. “I knew you were a fucking two-timer, you son of a bitch!” Bucky yelled at him. “And you made it so easy!” Johnson laughed dryly.

“Why you-” Bucky swung a punch at Johnson’s face, breaking his nose. “What have you told Pierce?!” Johnson retaliated right back by kicking his knee into Bucky’s abdomen, making him fall back. A fight soon broke out between all three of them, so loud that the commotion could be heard from outside.

Approximately 20 minutes later Y/N, who was passing by the room at the time, heard the loud noise and stopped in her tracks. It sounded like… two people fighting. It wasn’t her cleaning time yet, but she still rushed to the door, opening it up with such force that the door loudly banged on the other side. At this, the fight instantly halted.

Bucky was holding an unconscious Johnson by the collar, his fist an inch away from Johnson’s jaw. Both of them looked pretty beaten up, with blood all over their faces and clothes. Sam, meanwhile, was half-lying on the couch, clutching the side of his abdomen with a pained look on his face. Y/N’s hands flew to her mouth at the sight of them.

That was when she recognized the man from a few days ago. Oh shit, he does own the place. Bucky immediately got up and dusted his suit, staring down at a passed-out Johnson with a sneer. “Sam, take him to Wanda, she’ll know what to do with him. And please, for the love of God, go to the hospital.” With the help of a few others, Sam and Johnson left.

It was only Bucky and Y/N in the room now. She continued staring at his face in horror and Bucky chuckled, wiping away a trail of blood near his lips. “That bad?” She snapped out of her trance. “You…” Bucky gave her a wry smile. “Bucky Barnes at your service. And you are?” Y/N blinked a few times before answering. “Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N.” Bucky looked around.

“Well, Y/N, if you’d be so kind as to fetch me a first aid kit.” She instantly walked out of the room and got the first aid kit for him. When she returned to the room, Bucky was sitting on the couch, his jacket and shirt removed. Even his torso was covered in black and blue bruises. "It looks bad," she blurted out.

"Will you help me clean up?" Y/N couldn't deny him. He was her boss, after all. She sat down next to him and wordlessly started cleaning the blood off his face. He didn't so much as flinch, which Y/N found to be extremely impressive. After all the blood was cleaned, Y/N grimaced when she saw his broken nose. "Your, um, your nose…" Bucky easily grabbed his nose in both hands and clicked it into place.

Y/N flinched badly at the action, making Bucky laugh. "Come on, princess, it's not that difficult," he teased her and she shook her head, a smile blooming on her face. "So, um, I'm sorry about that day," she mumbled as Bucky kept the first aid kit away. "Sorry? For doing your job? Don't do that."

She looked up at him. "No, I- I should've known it was you, and I just… maybe I could've been more polite-"

"Sorry, you gotta go, the club is closed for the night and this is a staff-only room," Bucky quoted verbatim, "You couldn't have been more polite." Y/N's cheeks flushed with embarrassment and she shuffled her feet. "Please don't fire me," she whispered under her breath, yet Bucky managed to hear her. And when an opportunity presents itself…

"On one condition."

She looked up at him, wide-eyed and nodded excitedly. "Anything you want." Bucky smirked and sat back down next to her, placing his hand on her bare thigh. "Go on a date with me," he breathed out, leaning close to her. Y/N's breath and heart rate hitched at his forwardness, but she didn't have the will to deny him.

He was good-looking, he was rich, he was polite, why not give it a try? Y/N offered him a small smile. "Um, okay, I'd like that a lot," she agreed truthfully and Bucky grinned, pressing his lips to hers without wasting a moment. Y/N kissed him back, cupping his face with her hands.

In the heat of the moment, Bucky bent forward until the back of Y/N's head touched the armrest; still, they didn't pull away from each other. Bucky sneakily got his hand under Y/N's blouse, the skin on skin contact making them both groan. "Ugh, you really are very pretty, you know?" Bucky whispered as he unbuttoned her blouse and threw it away.

He stared in awe at her bra-covered breasts, his shaft twitching impatiently. But, just as he was about to unbuckle her bra, the door swung open. Bucky immediately hid Y/N under him and looked up at a horror-struck Sam, who ran out of the room screaming, "At least lock the door next time, asshole!"

Y/N giggled when she saw Bucky's flustered face. "He's right, you know," she whispered cheekily and Bucky playfully narrowed his eyes at her, attacking her neck with kisses and love bites.

"Talk to me like that again and you'll be in for a long night, pretty face."

"Oh, I'd like to see you try, boss."

---

a/n: thanks for reading, leave a like if you enjoyed it!

[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

Stella with owl demon S/O (The finale)

(This is the last chapter in the secret lover mini-series. If your just finding it, go back and read the full series. Its a fairly long story.) Hope you enjoy~

Years of meticulous planning. Manipulation, blackmail and manoeuvring. And all for this one day.

It had almost been a year since Stolas cheated on Stella, almost a year since You and Stella had become a less than secret couple. And today you were going official.

It had been simple getting information on Stolas.

A few cameras here, a tapped phone line there, not to mention half the staff was on your pay roll. They gave you all the information you could need, you taking any information, no matter how minor.

Honestly, Stella coming to you was a pleasant surprise. You did have this grand plan in place, a plan to split the family at its seams.

And in an instant, Stolas' incompetence had saved you months of work. And so Stolas' arrogance, shall be his undoing.

Over the last year, youd had dozens of visits. Spending months carefully prodding the couple, if you could still call them that. You pushed the wedge between them deeper and deeper, all for today.

You strolled into the palace like it were your second home, a small wicker basket hanging from his arm.

Navigating the halls, you found yourself in the palace kitchen, or at least the one the family had used the most.

Grabbing a set of glasses, you turned to find Octavia sitting at the table. 'Octavia, dear, how are you.' You asked, sounding as overjoyed as you felt.

She looked up at you with dead eyes, 'How do I look.' She asked sarcasticly. And honestly, the girl looked like she hadn't slept in a week.

Sitting down you gave her a sympathetic look. 'Fight?' You asked simply.

She just nodded, taking a sip of coffee.

You sighed, placing your hand on hers. 'What about the white noise machine I got you, that help any?' You asked hopefully.

Octavia sighed 'It helped a little, but they both managed to yell over it.' She told you, rubbing her face.

You sighed again, reaching into your pocket. You pulled out a fist sized stone. 'Here' you told her, handing her the stone.

Octavia stared at the stone for several moments, before looking up to you, blinking heavily a few times, 'Uhhhh... thanks?' She said, clearly confused.

You let out a chuckle, resting your head on your hand. 'Your welcome.'

The girl stared at the stone, before looking back at you 'what is it?' She asked simply.

You laughed again, 'Well it was going to be a birthday present, but it would seem you need it more now.'

Picking up the stone you gently tapped its top, a complex Web of symbols growing across it. Tapping it once more the symbols disappeared.

Octavia looked much more interested now, as you explained it to her. 'This bad boy, is what you'd call a noise sponge. When activated, it basically sucks all the noise out of a room.'

Octavia stood up, 'Really?' She asked seemingly excited. With a smile you told her 'See for yourself' you told her before tapping the top of the stone.

Octavias mouth moved, but no noise seemed to leave. She spoke again and again, each time seemingly getting louder and louder, before taking a deep breath.

Her mouth stretched and her body moved as though she were screaming, but there was no sound whatsoever.

Tapping the stone, sound noticably re-entered the room.

Octavia panted, before giggling like... well a school girl. Picking up the stone, you handed it to her.

Octavia stared at the stone, getting up, you followed her. 'Now remember this. That's not a toy. Its a powerful artefact, so don't use it longer than needed, and no sound can be heard when activated, be careful where you use it.'

Octavia just nodded her head, her eyes never leaving the stone. 'Thanks (y/n)' she told you giving a big hug.

'No problem kiddo.' You told her patting her back and planting an affectionate kiss atop her head.

Leaving the room you reflected on your growing friendship with Octavia.

She truly was an amazing young woman, a spitting image of her mother, if a bit cynical. She had a deep fascination for the occult, something you were more than happy to help her explore.

The two of you had actually become pretty close, having talked and met up dozens of times. You acted as a confidant, and a suspected, only friend for the girl.

You didn't like manipulating the girl, but it was quite easy to sour her relationship with her father, you really only had to bring focus to his selfish nature.

Of course, that didn't mean she was running to Stella's side, but her trust in stolas was cracked.

So with some pep in your step, you made your way to Stella's study, giving polite and playful little bows to the palace staff.

Youd worked hard to become beloved by the staff, acting as sort the "good noble" that looked out for them. At least for the ones not ready on your payroll.

You found her study. Giving your outfit a once over you knocked on the door. Stella snapped back, telling you to go away.

You released a bitter-sweet laugh, you opened the door, 'Are you fucking d-' Stella yelled before cutting yourself off.

'Hello darling.' You said calmly. In an instant she got to her feet, rushing over and wrapping you in a hug.

You pulled her into a kiss, locking the two into a passionate embrace. Breaking the kiss, you asked her tenderly 'How are you doing, my love?'

You'd gotten very good at telling when Stella was upset and when she was trying to hide it, and now she was certainly upset.

'How am I doing? Oh you know, I've had to deal with my slut of a husband and that... fucking Imp! For months now.' She growled, taking several heavy breaths before turning back to you. 'Other then that, I'm fine.'

You gave her a sympathetic smile, before remembering why you were here. 'Well, then I have just the thing.' You told her, giving the basket a little shake.

You pulled her towards the door, Stella resisting. 'Lets go play' you tell her playfully.

'No, I can't' she tells you, resisting your pull 'I have to much work to do.' She said clearly upset at the reality of royal responsibility.

Pulling her close, you looked her in the eyes before firmly telling her 'Do you trust me?' You asked her sternly.

That seemed to surprise her, before she just nodded her head. 'Then we should do this... trust me'

Stella conceded, letting you lead her out of the palace.

Walking out the back of the palace, you passed the field she had once burnt to ash, now regrown into a healthy and lush lawn.

Taking her into the clearing, you layed out the blanket you'd brought in the basket.

Sitting down, you pulled out the bottle of wine. Pulling the cork, you poured you both a glass. Sitting there you both fell silent, a weight hanging over your head.

You turned to her, looking deep into her eyes, you told her calmly. 'Stella, theres nothing in this world I love more then you...' taking your hand, you placed a kiss atop it.

'I'm sorry... I'm sorry I was never good enough for you...' you told her, emotion growing in your voice.

She looked deeply concerned, asking you 'what do you mean?'

You shook your head. 'The truth is. All I've ever wanted was to be with you...' you looked at your hands, 'I had such plans to Get you back, to prove I deserved you. But stolas seems to have ruined everything... You deserve better and I'm going to give it to you.' You looked up at her, 'I love you Stella.'

Looking at Stella, she looked distraught, teary eyed as she pulled you close. 'I love you too (Y/N).' There was a long pause before she whispered in your ear, 'I wish I had been with you... all those years ago'

Her words put everything together, a wave of determination flowing through you. With your purpose secured, you pulled her into a passionate kiss.

The two of you became more physical, your hands roaming her body. Stella's arms wrapped around your neck. You becaming more passionate, Stella matching your energy at every step.

It was as you undid the back of her dress that you heard it... he was here.

Giving her another kiss you asked her, 'Do you trust me?' Your breathing still raged.

It took a moment, but Stella responded 'Yes, Yes I trust you...' With that you kiss her again, carefully readjusting her dress.

It took another moment, but you heard him. 'Well, well, what do we have here?' The voice was cold, clearly unhappy.

Breaking the kiss, you looked up to find a very angry looking Stolas staring down at you.

You carefully pushed Stella off, giving her a more innocent kiss on her cheek. 'Go play somewhere.' You whispered, standing up.

You turned to face Stolas. The prince was absolutely livid, tapping his fingers on his forearm.

'Stolas! My what a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?' That was a lie. You specifically picked this spot, at this time because you knew he would see the two of you.

All according to plan.

Stolas spat back, 'Don't talk to me like that you bastard. Trying to fuck my wife. In my own home, do you have no shame.'

You couldn't help but begin laughing. You gripped your legs, laughing so hard it was hard to breath.

Straightening up you looked at Stolas, allowing years of venom to show. 'Shame?' You asked incredulously, 'Your asking me if I have shame?' You chuckled again. 'Pot meet kettle.' You spat at him

Dusted yourself off. 'Shame...?' You spat, through gritted teeth. 'Youre asking me if I have shame? You speak of your lust before your child. Plastering the hellnet with your lust for that satan-damned Imp, Fucking that Hellspawn in the bed, you shared with your Wife. You know nothing of shame, you harlot!' You finished almost screaming.

Stolas grit his teeth, his hands dropping to his side. The weather began to shift.

The once clear sky quickly being replaced with a ocean of grey clouds.

'You think you can take my wife?' He asked seriously. Your smile grew, taking a few steps towards him, smugness growing across your face. 'Think? My good man... I already have.' you tell him simply.

With a flick of his claw Stolas manifested his Grimoire.

In a flash you reached into your coat, pulling out a silver lock and throwing it at the Grimoire.

Almost immediately on impact, dozens of silver vines shot out, wrapping around the book.

Stolas, initially shocked tried to open the book, the lock on its cover not budging against his grip.

He looked up at you, pissed and clearly expecting 'That little item,' you began 'ensures that your little book won't affect the outcome of our little fight, Stolas.'

You smirk at him 'Now' you began 'you'll just have to fight me like a man.'

Stolas seemed both concerned and enraged by this, throwing the book to the side. 'You think I'm scared of you?'

He reached for his cloak, dramatically throwing it to the side.

You just chuckled, cracking your knuckles, the demonic Prince charged, swinging at you.

You easily dodged.

'My, how impressive!' you said, mockingly.

Stolas swung again, and again, missing each time. 'Come on I don't have all day!' You called at him smugly.

Stolas went for a violent haymaker, missing again. This time you retaliated with a hard punch to his nose, hearing a crack apon your fist meeting his face.

He stumbled back, blood dripped from his nose as you taunted him further.

'You know I had such an elaberate plan, Stolas.' You told him, taking out a shiny set of knuckle dusters from back pocket. 'I had every step perfectly worked out, all to turn your family against you.'

Stolas, became enraged, blindly charging at you. You easily dodgeing him, giving him a violent crack to his face.

'And then you, you fool... you did most of the job for me... half my plan, unneeded because you were a selfish, arrogant fool.'

Stolas made it to his feet, his left eye already swelling. He widened his eyes, likely intending to turn you to stone, but before he could, you reached into your pocket and threw a handful of dust at him.

The silver dust shone as it flew through the air, his reaction was instant. Falling to his knees clutching his face.

You chuckled, leaning on your knees for a second, 'When Judas betrayed jesus.' You began.

'He received 30 pieces of silver, as such its toxic to demons. And now it's your payment for all suffering you've put your family through.' You told him, blankly, no emotion in your voice.

'Years, Stolas. I've been preparing for this fight for years. I've played this moments out hundreds, thousands of times. Nothing you can do I havent prepared for.' You wiped your lip, standing up straight. 'Your going to lose.'

You were taunting him now, relishing seeing him suffer.

Reaching down, you grabbed his hair, pulling him up. It was as you were about to taunt him again that you were suddenly punched in the face.

Stumbling back, you found stolas getting to his feet. Wiping his eyes he glared at you, 'You think I'm some push over? I'm a prince! I am a Goetia, I'm not gonna be taken down by some retched lowborne.' He screeched, raising his fists.

You just smiled back, wiping your cheek 'Finally... a real fight.'

The fight was a brutal, Stolas, despite his lanky figure and privileged upbringing, could pack one hell of a punch.

But you were prepared for this.

For every hit Stolas landed, you hit him twice. Every use of magic was thwarted with an item or counter spell. You were almost perfectly matched.

Almost.

You stood across from each other, fists bloody, clothes filthy and torn, bruised and battered.

Still a smile adorned your face. Chuckling, you began 'you've put up one hell of a fight, Stolas.' You said as though remembering something. 'But even if you beat me, I still win!' You told him smugly.

Stolas cocked his brow, 'what are you going on about.' You smiled again, before reaching into your jacket before you pulling out a long white feather.

'Stella, your uh, "wife"...'you ran the feathered across your nose, taking in her lingering scent. 'We've been fucking for the past year now.' You chuckled again 'we fucked everywhere, her study... your bed, and man... can she scream.'

That set him off, he charged you, releasing a desperate a d furious, battle cry, swinging like a mad man.

You dodged the swing, and with one final uppercut the demon Prince stumbled back. He looked at you shocked, before smacking into the ground.

You couldn't help but laugh. The piece of shit fell like a sack of rocks.

Turning around you found a very concerned Stella. With a smile you walked towards her, stumbling over your battered legs.

Stella ran to your side, helping you keep up right.

You chuckled, pulling her in for a kiss. 'I have something for you.' You told her, your voice course and worn.

Reaching into your coat, you pulled out a small black case.

Breaking her grip, you stepped back and fell to your knee.

Taking several deep breaths you began, 'Stella. You are my light in the darkness, the love of my life. There is nothing I wouldn't do for you.'

Opening the case, you showed the sparkling diamond ring. 'Stella, my love. Will you marry me.'

Stella looked shocked, tears coming to her eyes as she covered her mouth.

It took a moment, but she nodded her head, 'Yes... yes I'll marry you.' She said, her voice thick with emotion.

You just smiled.

Everything was perfect.

Just as you planned.

[rhysismydaddy]

Prisoner's Game Pt. 4 (Rowaelin)

THANK YALL FOR BEING PATIENT I AM SO SORRY

Parts 1 \ 2 \ 3

________________________________

Journal Entry #2000

Sometimes I think it wouldn't be so bad to die.

To leave this island forever and not have to worry about being discovered anymore.

I wasn't always this macabre, but two thousand days of checking over my shoulder and wishing for a man's murder has dulled the wishful excitement I felt when I first got here.

Five years ago, I was grateful to even be alive.

I couldn't believe a stranger give up everything for me and the others--couldn't believe she'd agree to fight this battle because of my decision.

I have to actually remind myself to still be grateful to her, if I'm being honest.

Because sometimes I think about that night all those years ago, when she showed up in the darkest part of the night to kill me. When she'd held the knife with a trembling hand and told me that the price for betraying Arobynn Hamel was my life. When we discovered together that she couldn't bring herself to kill me.

Sometimes I think it would be better if she would've just done it.

At least it would've been over.

At least I wouldn't have to spend years on an island, living the same day over and over again. I think that's what's driving me mad, beyond anything else.

The predictability of my time.

Every day, I follow the same routine. The routine she laid out for me in a hushed whisper.

I wake up and go to the small café a mile down the road to watch the news. And every day, I pray to see Arobynn Hamel's face next to to the words, "Breaking news: billionaire crime boss found dead."

Because that was her only stipulation.

That the ten of us would stay on the island, hidden from sight, until news of his death was announced. In exchange, we got to live.

She'd warned me it would take a long time.

She'd told me to not get complacent.

And then she'd whispered what she planned to do.

Even now, over five years later, the words she'd whispered while shoving a plane ticket and a new passport into my hands were crystal clear.

"The devil isn't going to go down easy."

~Aelin~

The shaft of her recently-fashioned shiv was cold in her hand as she silently grabbed it from under her pillow.

The soft clink of the bars shutting again told her whoever had just snuck in her cell was now locked in with her.

Unfortunate for them.

She wasn't afforded the luxury of a clock, but she knew it was the middle of the night. Normal visiting hours were far over. There was no one here but the bored night guards, four janitorial staff, and rows and rows of sleeping inmates.

And the idiot trying to sneak up behind her bed.

She kept her eyes closed as she listened to the quiet steps walk closer and closer. Right when she was about to turn around and attack, they stopped.

Then the weirdest thing happened. It sounded like whoever it was slid down the wall directly across from her bed.

A killer wouldn't do that.

Curiosity piqued, Aelin turned her head to see who and what was going on.

It was dark in the cell, but she'd recognize that shock of silver hair anywhere.

"Rowan?" she whispered, so quietly she almost didn't even hear herself. "What are you doing here?"

He didn't respond, but the way his muscles tensed told her he'd heard her.

Slowly, she sat up so she could see him better and maybe figure out what was going on.

For the first time in a long time, he looked less than perfect. Far less than it, actually.

His hair was going every possible direction, like he'd been running hands through it and pulling on it. He was wearing a gray t-shirt, rumpled dress slacks, and tennishoes that weren't even tied.

But that wasn't what worried her most. It was the way he was sitting completely still and silent.

He didn't even look like he was breathing.

"Hey," she tried again. "What's going on? Look at me."

Another few heartbeats passed, and then he slowly shook his head.

"Please, Rowan. Just look at me."

He winced, like hearing her say his name physically hurt him.

And then his head came up.

Deep green eyes met hers, and even though it was what she'd wanted, what she'd needed, Aelin instantly wished he'd look away.

Because with one look, she knew he'd figured it out.

He knew, and the pain and turmoil in his eyes... she'd put that there.

She'd seen him angry and sad and happy and everything in between, but she'd never seen him, or anyone else, look so broken.

He looked completely and utterly broken as he sat before her.

"Rowan," she whispered, shaking her head even though she didn't know why.

He bowed his head again, seemingly unable to even look at her.

"Ro," she whispered, dropping to her knees in front of him.

Almost like the old nickname broke something inside him, Rowan's shoulders started to shake.

And then he sobbed.

It was the kind of sob that couldn't possibly be held in. The kind that made her heart clench and tears brew in her own eyes, the kind that told her how much pain he was in.

Tears ran down her cheeks as she put a hand on his arm. He shook off the touch like it burned him and looked up at her again.

"I ruined your life," he croaked, the tears on his face reeking of self-hatred. "I ruined your life."

She shook her head. "No, you didn't."

Anger bled into his tone. "I put you in prison for eight years for murdering people who aren't even fucking dead, Aelin. I didn't listen to you, didn't look hard enough. I've had the clues you left me for eight years. We were in love, and I didn't even try hard enough to... I... please explain to me how I didn't ruin your life."

"You did not ruin my life, Rowan," she told him again, meaning every word.

"Eight years of your life, gone because of me. I don't even understand how you can look at me." He huffed a laugh, but he was far from amused. "No wonder you hate me."

His chest was heaving, his hands were in fists, and his stubble-crested jaw was damp with tears.

And she'd thought he hadn't cared.

Aelin felt like a fool--a horrible, stupid fool--for ever doubting him. For thinking him indignant.

Because this was technically what she'd wanted. What she'd planned to happen.

She'd wanted it to hurt, had wanted him to feel an ounce of what she'd felt when he'd led the case against her.

But it wasn't what she wanted anymore.

Moving slowly, Aelin crawled onto his lap, put her hands on the side of his face, and lifted his gaze to hers while she said, "Arobynn Hamel ruined my life, not you."

He shook his head, breathing heavily. "No-"

She cut him off by wrapping herself around him.

Like she was trying to heal physical wounds, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled his head to her chest. She sank into him until there wasn't an inch of space between them. Her hands wandered over his back as she held him tight to her.

He was stiffer than a board at first, but eventually he sagged against her, wrapping his arms around her in return.

It was like he was drowning in the sea, and she was the only thing preventing him from being swept away. He shook, his entire body trembling, and his arms became a vice around her.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered after a moment.

She shook her head, but it didn't matter. He said it again, and again, and again, until his voice was hoarse and broken.

Aelin ran her hands over his back slowly, and just held him as pain he'd felt for eight years seemed to reach a crest.

Eventually he stopped crying and just laid against her, warm breath fanning across her collarbone.

"I'm so sorry, Aelin," he whispered yet again.

"Please stop saying that. None of this is your fault. You aren't the reason I'm in prison."

"Yes, I am," he insisted, shifting beneath her. "But I'm getting you out right now."

He looked up, eyes bright with new-found purpose, and wiped the tears off his cheeks like they were distracting him.

"What?"

He nodded quickly. "We can bring those people back, and you can get your life back. I know it's not the same, and I know I can't get you these years back, but-"

"No."

He paused. "No?"

She shook her head. "I can't leave yet."

"Leave? What the hell does that mean?"

"It means I still have shit to do here. I'm not leaving before it's done."

His eyes narrowed. "You're acting like this is a hotel, not a high-security prison. And what do you even mean?"

Aelin had the good sense to feel a little guilty as she slowly got to her feet and walked to the wall at the back of the cell. A few well-placed taps later, it swung open.

Rowan's mouth dropped open, then closed, then repeated the whole routine like he couldn't decide what to say first.

He apparently figured it out, because it opened again so he accuse, "I knew you were robbing me! Where the fuck is my bed?"

She sighed and rubbed her temples. "That's what you care about right now? Seriously?"

He grumbled something as he got to his feet and leaned into the makeshift doorway in the wall.

It took him a few moments to examine the ladder leading down to the tunnel, and then he straightened and looked at her again with a mixture of confusion, awe, and understanding on his face.

"You've been sneaking out this whole time."

She nodded.

Most of her escapes had been in the past six months, but she'd occasionally left in the years before to check on something or track down a lead.

"You beat up your roommate so they'd put you back in solitary."

Aelin nodded again.

"But how did you know they'd bring you to this cell?"

A small smile pulled on her lips. "Look again," she told him, gesturing towards the open brick door.

He stuck his head in the hole again and couldn't stifle his surprised intake of breath as he saw the other ladders.

He came back in the cell, and the expression on his face made her bite her lip to hold back a smile. "You... you tunneled into prison?"

"Into every solitary cell," she confirmed.

"When? Why?"

"One of my old jobs for Arobynn was to break a client of his out of solitary. I knew which cell he was in, but... getting locked up is kind of a right of passage for my former career, so I figured I'd plan ahead and give myself a way out, should I ever need it." She smiled. "Hamel never could figure out how I did it, so it's safe for me to use now."

Rowan spent a long moment looking at her. "That's... genius."

"I tend to be," she agreed.

They were both silent for a minute, then he said, "You need to tell me everything. Enough of both of us wasting time assuming what the other is thinking. We need to get everything out in the open, and we need to do it now."

Aelin nodded, knowing it was true.

It was time to either finally trust him or kill him, and just the thought of the latter made something inside of her twist so hard she felt nauseous.

She nodded to the tunnel, not wanting to have the following conversation overheard by any prying ears. He nodded and followed her down, closing the door behind him.

When she knew they were alone, she started to explain.

"Maddison Kliff, my first so-called victim, funded her campaign for senator with money from Arobynn Hamel."

Rowan's eyebrows went up in surprise, but he nodded for her continue.

"He gave it to her, with the caveat that when she won, she'd vote against renewable energy for Rifthold. He has millions in oil, so when she did the exact opposite and voted for the green plan that switched the city to 70% electric, he took a pretty hard hit." She took a deep breath. "The day after the vote, I got my orders to kill her."

His jaw clenched.

"I went that night, thinking I could do it. Thinking I'd get it over with and never think about it again. I snuck in her townhouse and had everything set up." She let out a laugh. "But then I realized my deal with Arobynn covered ten of Sam's jobs. If I killed Maddison, and did a good enough job of it to get away with it, I knew he'd put nine more names on the list."

"So you didn't do it," Rowan said, like he already knew but needed to hear her say it.

"So I didn't do it."

Aelin ran a hand through her hair, starting to pace. "I ran. And then I went back the next night with a suitcase, a new ID for her, and a plan."

"Why Aruba?" he asked.

"I'd done all that research for our trip," she said, a pang of sadness shooting through her at the memory of planning their first vacation together. "I didn't have time to research another place. And I never told you, but the house I wanted us to rent? You kind of... own it."

"I own a house in Aruba," he repeated slowly, his tone making it clear he didn't understand.

She rolled her eyes at his tone. "Arobynn might be a bastard I'd love to put in a grave, but he paid me well. I was eighteen and didn't know what else to do with the money. So I bought a house."

"In Aruba. In my name."

She nodded. "No one can trace it back to you. It's hidden in an off-shore corporation, owed by another off-shore corporation, but technically, yes, you're the owner. It was going to be your Christmas present."

"You bought me a house," his lips twitched. "For a Christmas present."

"I was in love with you," she muttered. Then pointed out, "My lack of shopping impulse control really isn't the point of the story."

He rolled his eyes, still fighting a grin at her antics. "Please continue."

"Right. So I sent her to the house in Aruba and told her to stay at the house with anyone else he wanted me to kill. I told her to not say a word to anyone besides those people, and that I'd be forced to actually kill her if she did. If Arobynn finds out they're alive, he'll send someone for me."

She explained the list next. "He requires proof of all completed jobs, so I kept the "murder weapons" and made sure the crime scenes had enough blood to indicate the person couldn't still be alive. It was mostly fake, but I took just enough blood from each of the victims and mixed it in to make it realistic enough to fool DNA scanners. Then I put the weapons in storage lockers he owns and wrote the numbers down so I wouldn't forget them."

Rowan nodded, most certainly remembering that part.

He was doing a good job of hiding his emotions, but she still saw how heavily this all weighed on him.

Everything he'd been feeling for eight years was hitting him at once, and while explanation made sense, it probably didn't make him feel any better about the role he'd played in all of this.

He confirmed it by asking, "Why didn't you tell me?"

He asked it almost casually, but she didn't miss the pain he couldn't keep from seeping into his voice.

"I wanted to," she breathed. "Gods, I wanted to. I know now you investigated before giving the list to the cops, but to me, it looked like you found it and just turned me in. You never asked me. And you looked at me... you looked at me like you thought I was guilty. I knew you wouldn't believe me."

Rowan went quiet, regret and shame coming off of him in waves so thick she almost choked on it.

"How is all of this going to play out?" he asked, seemingly trying to force himself to think about something else. "And what do you have to do that you need to be in prison for?"

She hesitated, suddenly not wanting to tell him.

Not out of a lack of trust, but because if she told him... he'd realize she's guilty of the crime she's in prison for. He might go back to hating her, back to thinking her a horrible person.

And she just got him back.

She's pulled from her thoughts when he reaches a hand out, slowly gripping her jaw to tilt her face to his.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said, the words final.

Of course he knew what she was thinking just from looking at her face. He always was a little too astute.

A part of Aelin wanted to put on a brave face and act like that wasn't exactly what she'd been worrying about, but a bigger part wanted him. Wanted him to see that even after all this time, she needed him.

So she forced down the witty jokes and sultry smiles she usually used as ways to hide her vulnerability and looked up at him.

"Promise?"

He closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. "I promise, Aelin."

His hand was still on her face, and he leaned in until his forehead rested against hers. "I'm never going to leave you again. I'm so... I'm so fucking sorry I did in the first place. I should've come to you, or at least listened when you told me you were innocent."

"I'm sorry I thought you didn't fight for me," she said back. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

They'd both done things they regretted, but Aelin knew that now, no matter what, he was telling the truth. He wasn't going to leave her.

The knowledge felt like a weight lifting off her shoulders, and just to lighten the mood, she whispered, "And I'm sorry I stole your bed."

He pulled back to glare at her. "You're going to explain one day how you even pulled that off. But I'd like the answer to my other question first."

Aelin took a step back and ran a hand through her hair.

"Arobynn Hamel dying is the endgame, Rowan. I have to stay in prison so I can kill him and have an alibi no one will question."

He paused, and for a moment, her fears skyrocketed, so she rushed to explain, "As long as he's alive, those people have to be in hiding and I have to look like I killed them. Once he's dead, I can bring them back without worrying Arobynn will kill them. Or me."

He gave her a strange look, but she spoke before he could, explaining, "It's why I've been in prison for so long. I would've killed him and ended it years ago, but I only found him a couple months ago. He's been in hiding ever since I was locked up, because the FBI knew I was one of his and started looking for him."

"Okay, but Aelin-"

She cut him off. "I know it's insane and not at all ideal, but I need you to leave me in here. Just until he's dead, and then it's over."

He stepped forward and grabs her shoulders, shaking her slightly.

And then he did the weirdest thing.

He smiled.

"What the hell do you look happy about?" she demanded. "I'm being serious-"

It was his turn to interrupt her. "Aelin, if that's the stipulation, you're already free."

Unease drifted through her stomach. "What do you mean?"

"I mean he's already dead."

Shock rushed through her so fast and thoroughly, her vision swam and she swayed in his grip. "What... what did you just say?"

"That's why I came today, now. I actually figured out you were innocent two days ago, but I wasn't going to come until I could tell you with certainty I was getting you out, and I knew you couldn't bring everyone back without risking your life. I've spent the past 48 hours planning a jailbreak and a way to sneak you to somewhere the US doesn't have extradition."

He grinned again. "But then it was announced on the 11 o'clock news tonight that he died last week of pneumonia complications. His family kept it private because they wanted a small funeral, but he's dead, Aelin."

Still feeling the weight of shock, she argued, "He's not dead."

"But he is."

"No," she insisted, pushing away from him and starting to pace again. "He can't be dead."

His face softened at the panic in her voice. "Aelin, I know you wanted it to be you, but-"

"No, Rowan, you don't understand. I mean he cannot physically be dead, because I haven't finished killing him!"

It was his turn to be shocked.

"What do you mean you haven't finished killing him?"

She took a deep breath, trying to keep her emotions in check. "I've been poisoning him since the day I figured out where he holes up. Turns out he has kidney problems and goes in once a week for dialysis. I show up and add a little... extra to his medication. The last time I went was less than a week ago, and while he might have been sick, he most definitely was still alive."

Besides that, what were the odds that Rowan figured out her "victims" were still alive, and just two days later Arobynn croaks?

It would be one hell of a coincidence, and Aelin learned long ago to not believe in those.

His eyes went wide. "What? You mean he faked his death? Why the hell would he do that?"

"Because," she said slowly, dread forming like a lead ball in her stomach as she realized what this meant for her, for the ten people whose lives she'd traded her freedom for. "I told Maddison and the others to wait for news of his death before coming back. I told them that until he was dead, they weren't safe."

She shook her head, whispering, "I told them to watch the news."

Rowan realized what she was saying and cursed.

"He knows."

~~~~~~~~~~~

Lemme know in the comments if you want to be tagged!

Part 5 will (realistically) be out in the next three weeks. Sorry for the slow updates; school is consuming all my time and energy.

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[creepytoes88]

His cumslut

Letting Vinnie do basically whatever he wants tends to benefit me more then most people might think. My best friends are always saying I’m gonna regret letting him go to whatever party or anyone's house. They say he’s a hypocrite because he always has tabs on where I'm at and who I'm with honesty it does get annoying at times but he can't help that he has trust issues. I knew what I was getting into when I said yes to being his girlfriend he has had a bad past with every girlfriend he's had, all of them have cheated and every girl he got with outside of a relationship just uses him. He was very clear on how he feels about unnecessarily revealing clothes “Wear what you want but if I have to kill a guy tonight I'm punishing you when we get home.”

A very common phase he uses but that's the worst of it I don't mind telling him who I'm with or where I am, I never ask him where he is because because I know he won't go looking around anywhere else. I've explained this to them a thousand times “Well tell us why your so confident he won't cheat” I blush slightly and shrug “YOU DO THIS EVERYTIME” I look down “it’s personal” they look at each other and laugh “tell us you prude” I chuckle slightly “promise no Judgement or making fun of me!” they both hold out their pinkeys and nod “wellllll...I let him do whatever he wants-” kay laughs “Yea we know” I look down “i mean anything” I slowly look back up “what he says goes.... Don't wear clothes for the rest of the week.....suddenly I'm busy all week” they look at me dumbfounded “of course there are exceptions but I let him have complete control with the sexual side of the relationship.” I say with a small smile “and he's good at it too” they look at each other and look back at me before busting out in laughter, “no wonder your not worried...your his sex slave” I tilt my head Vinnie had never used that term with me, I grew up with Vinnie me and him went to school together we weren't close till middle school we decided in freshman that we would be best as friends. The second week him and I were in LA we went to a party and ended up hooking up I was a virgin, and I thought it was gonna ruin everything but to my surprise, we just kept getting more and more serious.

After 5 months of living in the sway house, we moved out into our little house, our sex life completely changed when we no longer had people living with us. Vinnie told me his sexual dreams of having me whenever he damn well pleased and having me wear things he likes. Vinnie makes jokes about it but in real life I'm only allowed to call him Vinnie if we're in public inside the house his name is Daddy and that alone. The first time we had a fight in the house I called him by his name and he simply picked me up threw me over the couch, he edged me for hours when he finally let me release the power of it made me faint for a minute scaring the the absolute shit out of Vinnie. ”Honestly your not wrong...he’s never called me that but I guess your kinda right” they are quite for a second so I look at them “what” they look at each other before kay takes a deep breath “are you happy though, Outside of the sex he not controlling or pushy?” I smile “oh he's perfect and so sweet to me honestly I'm more worried of hurting his feelings.” I feel my phone vibrant and then Vinnie’s ring tone I answer quickly wondering why he didn't face time me or text me “hey bab-” I hear him breathing deeply “whats wrong?” I ask with worry “I really need you to head home now baby I’ve had a very long day and I need to release some tension.”

I feel shivers go down my spine and I feel myself already starting to get wet I let out a fake sigh “alright Vinnie if it’s that important I’ll be home in 10 minutes” hoping the girls won’t think it’s about something dirty. Vinnie lets out a chuckle “they are still giving you shit about me?” I laugh “I’ll be home soon I love you” I hung up and give the girls an apologetic face “girls I’m-“ they laugh and stand up “it’s okay Y/n we don’t want him to throw a tantrum because your not naked when you get there” I gasp turning around seeing their playful faces “you guys are ridiculous.” We all laugh as we go separate ways, I get in my car rushing home I want to beat him to the house so I can keep the plan of being naked. The second I step in the house I start stripping and then as I’m about to pull my skirt off I hear a door slam. I gasp and rush upstairs flinging my clothes off just leaving them there. I hear the Door open then slam shut I jump on the bed quickly, I place my head and chest against the bed my ass in the air. I spread my legs as far as possible trying to calm my breathing my heart is basically beating out of my chest as I wait for him patiently.

Vinnie's POV

I pull in to the house and shut off the car taking a deep breath ”Vinnie it's not Y/n’s fault that Justin is a dumbass” I say to myself getting out of the car I slam the door releasing as much anger as possible before going in the house to my beautiful wife to be. I will marry this woman she's everything I've ever wanted or needed but now isn't the time for marriage or at least that's what I keep telling myself walking in to the house and slamming that door too I am already kinda feeling better I'm still fucking pissed but I'm not raging anymore I toss my keys into the bowl and take off my shoes seeing hers just tossed to the side unlike usual. I walking into the living room to see her shirt and bra on the floor I smirk and walk up to the stairs seeing her skirt and her panties along with her socks right outside the closed door. “Hello my love-” I walk in to see her bent over with her ass in the air, her beautiful flower on full display along with her cute little button. The sight takes my breath away I can see her arousal dripping down her legs “well aren't you just the prettiest view.”

I see her wiggle her squishy cheeks making me laugh a little “wanna give Daddy a little dance show princess?” I was kidding but my baby never disappoints she immediately started to shake her butt to an imaginary song I watch with my mouth open a little I truly didn't know she was capable of dancing that way. I watch in awe as she began to make her ass clap (as one does💀) I grunt as I feel my dick become impossibly hard I began to take my clothes off as I pull down my boxers. My cock slaps against my lower stomach making my stomach twist I grab ahold of it watching as large amounts of pre-cum slip out. I swiping my tip letting out a little grunt, I hear her call my name I look up at her to see her look at me from between her legs “can I help?” she asks as she bites her lip. I immediately let go and I feel another large amount of pre-cum drip down my staff again making me blush slightly no one makes me as horny as she does.

Y/n’s POV

I jump up from my spot I roll off the bed dropping to my knees in front of him I take both my hands and intertwine them with his big warm hands. First I lick up the line of pre-cum that's made its way to his balls all the way back to his tip before sinking down till he hit the back of my throat. Vinnie lets out a gasp rocking his hips against my face pushing the rest of his cock down my throat a gag comes out as a result but I continue to bob my head and suck I pull my head off taking a breath or two before opening back up and taking him all the way till my nose is pushed against his naval. The prickly hair tickling my nose I let out a small giggle “Oh fuck what was that” Vinnie moans above me and he grabs the back of my head by my hair in a fist “I'm gonna fuck your throat baby are you ready?” I nod my head best I can with his thick and long cock stuffed in my throat and blocking my airway. He pulls back till his tip is almost out before thrusting back in a popping and gagging sound come from my throat and my eyes rolls to the back of my head. I never thought I would get so much pleasure from giving a man head in my life but something about his taste and the feeling of him stuffing my throat that I just can't get enough of. Once I spent a whole day just sucking his dick he came in my mouth and down my throat too many times to count I had a little stomach bulge after and it kinda looked like a food baby. I remember Vinnie asked if that meant I was technically carrying his children now I smile slightly at the memory but I'm brought back to reality when I hear him calling my name “oh fuckfuckfuck” he pushes his cock as far down my throat as possible “Shit Y/n fuck baby!” shooting a long, and hot load down my throat I grab his hips gargling my throat around his cock making him jump and try to pull away as he continues to cum down my throat. He succeeded in pulling out and the last little bit of cum landing on my tongue “mmmm Daddy you taste so good” I say licking my lips I use my finger to the the rest off my chin and off his tummy I look in his eyes at I take the finger and put in my mouth moaning at the taste again. “Fuck Princess you enjoy that way to much don't you think?” he laughs as he lays down on the bed “my balls hurt” he laughs I crawl back on top of him kissing his cheeks and finally his lips “you taste so good though Daddy, I just can't get enough of you.” I run my hands threw his hair “give me like 10 minutes and ill make you feel so good baby” he says as he kissed my neck I sit beside him rubbing his god like body (somebody said something about licking his biceps in the comments as I kinda like that idea so enjoy)

I run my hands over his shoulders and down his arms admiring his gorgeous skin I feel the need to worship him show him just how much of a slave for him I am he doesn't need to tell me I'm his slave, I already know I am and I'm gonna show him. “Mmm Daddy let me worship you” I whine as I began to kiss his chest and shoulders I run my hands up and down his toned stomach I began to kitten lick his hard muscles sucking little hickeys while I'm at it. “Fuck Princess what did you say” I start to kiss and lick his abs my hands rubbing his hard thighs pulling away I say “when I was at lunch with the girls I finally told them the truth about why I trust you so much they called me your sex slave.” I stop and begin to leave hickeys all over his hips and sex lines his hard cock brushing my cheeks and chin “I thought about it and I agree and honestly I wouldn't have it any other way” I lean down kissing his lips “oh princess I'm gonna make you more then just my sex slave” I sinister smile runs across his face and gleam appears in his eyes “I'm gonna make you my cumslut and your gonna beg for my cum....well everywhere if I have it my way.” he says looking in my eyes I feel a blush run on my cheeks and an excited shiver run down my back “you know you'll have it your way Daddy that my job right?” I say with a cute smile tilting my head trying to look innocent Vinnie let's put a dark chuckle “I can't wait to ruin you and really turn you into my cumslut” he pulls me down before flipping us over so he's on top “you won't be able to think about anything else except the way it feels for me to cum in your beautiful body” that sentence sent a violent shiver down my spine, I just got on birth control a little over 2 weeks ago but we haven't had raw sex quite yet mostly because we wanted to be sure the birth control is in full effect before taking the chance. (let's pretend you can't get pregnant on birth control at all lmao) I guess now is better than never “please Daddy make me your cum slut” I whine hooking my leg around his hip running my hands threw his hair.

Vinnie’s POV

My poor little bunny had no idea what she was doing to me as far as she's concerned these are just words flying out of her mouth but to me they are her words of true love and true trust. She trusts me enough to control her body and soon her mind, once she falls into the state of a cumslut I know she won't be able to control her body or her mind hopefully she feels relaxed in that state. The last thing I would want is for her to have a bad experience with me being the one in charge. I push my head into her neck running my staff between her slick lips a small moan falls from her lips “thank you, baby, I won't disappoint you I promise.” I kiss her lips once more before grabbing ahold of both of her legs pushing my spongy tip into her entrance the feeling completely different from when I have a condom on I let out a low gasp. Goosebumps pop up on my skin and a shiver runs down my spine as I pull out a light popping noise is made “UGH FUCK YOUR SO TIGHT” I let out a loud moan throwing my head back. I look back down seeing my sweet girl looking back up at me with wide innocent eyes and her mouth slightly open her hands hold tight onto my shoulders without even thinking I push inside of her both of us moaning as her wet walls fluttering around my dick about sending me into orbit I quickly bottom out letting out a grunt using my free hand to move her hair out of her face “F-fuck Daddy please I want you to use me” I began to jackhammer into her feeling her wall pulse around me her loud moans filling my ears as I pick up her legs pushing them into her shoulders feeling myself go further inside of her “Da-DADDY” I chuckle “what baby is there something you want” she whines and grinds her hips into me making me go even further if that's possible. “Daddy please cum inside of me I wanna feel it” Her little body was shivering, I feel my balls tighten so I began to rapidly pound inside of her “OH YESSS IM CUMMMING” she yells out thrusting her hips up. I grunt pushing as far into her as I can releasing deep inside of her, I look down to see her tense and shivering “you ok bunny,” I ask slightly worried “i-so um I-please” I look at her slightly confused “what baby?” I say with a little laugh I see her open her eyes a little before spreading her legs again “more please.” she whines out I drop my mouth open at my cute little whiney mess “oh princess you have no clue what you just did”

I have other things coming but should I make a part 2 to this

[izaswritings]

Title: who we are in the aftermath

Fandom: The Owl House

Synopsis: Belos falls and the Golden Guard survives. It’s a new world and a new day, and sooner or later Hunter has to figure out where he fits in it. 

Or: in which Hunter stays at the Owl House, becomes a (very, very reluctant) apprentice, continues to have accidental sibling shenanigans with the annoying human, and finally finds a place where he belongs. Probably.  

AO3 link is here.

[Next chapter is here!]

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chapter one: battling birds

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They give him a room near the east side of the house, stuffed full of broken things and a miscellaneous number of random items. It’s not the human’s old room, and not Lilith’s, either—there’s too much dust and too much stuff for either option. Hunter can’t tell if he’s grateful for this or not. He’s still deciding on whether he’s grateful for the room at all.

There’s no time to set up a bed. He spends his first night here on a blanket, restless and half-awake and lying so still he’s half-convinced he’s shaking from the strain of not moving at all, not making a single sound. He can practically taste the dust on every inhale—does the Owl Lady ever clean, Titan help him—and by some godawful midnight hour Hunter gives up on sleep entirely and sits up, carefully, to whisper to his palisman. 

Nothing important. None of the real questions that are swirling around in his head, like what am I even doing here and why am I still here and what am I supposed to do now, do you know? Instead he just says nonsense things, useless things, like “If I shine a flashlight in that little demon’s face do you think I could get him to chase the dot?”

The palisman coos and chirps and sings nonsense back. Red is a pretty color. I like tulips. If we iced over the Boiling Sea could we make human rain? 

“None of those answers make sense,” Hunter tells it, and then writes a small note about the sea and rain connection on the dusty floor, if only because that’s actually kind of interesting and he wants to check it out again later. 

Red tulips are tasty, replies the palisman, and nuzzles his fingers when he goes to pet it. Its feathers are soft and its eyes are luminous in the moonlight. Nonsense, all of it, but the nonsense helps—familiar as a friend, safe and easy. Better than thinking of Belos. Better than wondering what he’s doing here, sleeping on the floor in the Owl Lady’s house.

The human has left. He could walk out right now and she’d never know, not that her disappointment has any bearing on if he chooses to stay or go. She’s vanished back to the human world, probably gone forever. This house means nothing to Hunter—the Owl Lady is annoying and dislikes him about as much as Hunter dislikes her, and as endearing as the weird little demon is, that isn’t enough to make Hunter want to stay. 

He could leave easily. He could go anywhere. He has nowhere to go.

“I don’t know what to do,” Hunter tells the palisman, at last, hours later. It is almost morning. The sunrise has only just begun, the peace of this dusty attic room wavering thin and fragile in the light of early dawn. It is a quiet admission. He says it very soft. “I don’t know if I know anything.”

I love you, says the palisman.

“That’s not an answer either.” 

Oh, well.

Twenty minutes later, the Owl Lady’s weird bird-worm security creature bursts through the window and sings good morning loud enough to shatter eardrums. Hunter grabs his staff, throws a blast at the thing on instinct, teleports to the kitchen in a panic, and smacks the Owl Lady in the face with his palisman first thing in the morning.

.

The easy explanation is this: the castle falls and Belos dies and the Golden Guard somehow survives it all: portal collapse and half-realm merge and everything, which means when the dust settles, ultimately Hunter is left with absolutely no idea of what to do with himself. 

“You should work with Eda!” says the human, in the aftermath. Given she says this in the ruin of what was once the Emperor’s castle, barely a half hour after—everything—Hunter feels pretty justified in his response. Which is to say he strangles his broken mechanical staff in his hands, takes a deep breath, and says in a very tight voice: “No.”

“But—!”

“No. No, no, no. I can’t even believe I did this, I don’t… it’s not happening. No.”

The human—he does actually know her name by now, after all they’ve been through, but also given all of This Nonsense she has lost name privileges—does not take that well. Of course she doesn’t. She’s so fourteen it makes Hunter want to die inside.  

“Why not?” the human says, petulant. She has her hands on her hips and everything. 

Hunter is kneeling in the rubble of a castle he’s called home for almost all his life. Somewhere down there is the throne where Belos used to sit; somewhere down there is a body. It’s not a surprise, really. It’s not a shock. From the moment the palisman fluttered into his life and Hunter let it stay, he always knew, deep down, that one day he was going to have to choose. 

It does not make breathing any easier. “I don’t want to,” he says. 

“You can learn wild magic! And, and glyphs! Eda knows a lot—”

“Does the Owl Lady know you’re offering up her house to an old enemy?” 

“Eda won’t mind. Well, okay, maybe she’ll mind a little, but— she’ll let you stay if I ask her!” Yeah. The Owl Lady probably would. The human has that witch wrapped around her little finger; Hunter almost snorts. “Please, just hear me out. I’m sure we can—”

“No.”

“Hunter…”

“Don’t talk like we’re friends,” Hunter hisses. He drops the broken remains of the mechanical staff and stands, his hands curled to fists. “Don’t talk like you know me. You don’t know anything. You don’t—” He can’t breathe. He drops back to his knees in the rubble and rubs a hand over his eyes. “Just stop. Please.”

The human doesn’t say anything for a long time. On his shoulder, the palisman, thus far staying silent, flutters its wings and hops down to his knee, nudging his hand with its beak. It sings nothing. Just stays there.

After a moment, the human kneels next to him. There is blood on her face and dirt staining her leggings. “I know,” she says, and she suddenly sounds very tired. “I’m sorry.” 

Hunter doesn’t say anything.

“I just—” the human starts, and then she stops. “I don’t know how else to help you.”

She looks small and weirdly sad, which makes no sense at all, because she hated Belos and never really understood why Hunter did not. (Hunter is not sure why either. If that is still something he can say. If you can betray your uncle and fight against your uncle and—and— and do these things, do everything Hunter has done, and still say that this feeling isn’t hatred.)

They aren’t friends, Hunter and the human. They have barely been allies. He doesn’t need her help, and she probably knows that as well as he does. But Hunter looks at her then, and despite the rubble and the ash and the blood on his tongue, for some reason instead of digging himself a makeshift grave he says—

“…Okay.”

Which still doesn’t really explain anything, but then, that’s just how it goes.

.

“Okay!” says the Owl Lady, smacking down her second cup of apple blood on the table. She does it too hard—a good splash of blood escapes the confines of the cup and adds yet another stain to her already-stained dining table. Hunter raises an eyebrow. The Owl Lady glares back. “House rules.”

There’s a red mark on her cheek, still, from where Hunter had hit her with his staff, and a stain all down her side from when, upon being hit with the staff, the Owl Lady spluttered and cursed and accidentally spilt the first cup of apple blood all over herself and the floor. She looks… barely awake. 

“House rules,” Hunter echoes, dryly.

“Your scorn is noted and not appreciated.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” His palisman pecks his hand lightly. “Ow.”

“Luz, you owe me one,” mutters the Owl Lady, and takes a really deep drink of her apple blood. Hunter rubs at his hand, peeved, and eyes the palisman in case it gets any more hand-pecking ideas. The palisman blinks innocently back. Hmm.

“So. First of all.” The Owl Lady raises a finger. “Break any of my stuff and I end you.”

So just like the castle, then. Hunter sees where this is going. He settles gingerly back against the chair—why, why is all of her furniture stained—and rests his cheek against one fist, already bored. “Noted.”

The Owl Lady puts up a second finger. There’s a long silence.

“…Seriously?” says Hunter.

“Quiet, you.” She snaps her fingers. “Hah! Got one! Hurt King or Luz or Hooty or anyone I like in any way and I’ll destroy you. Yeah, that works.”

Hunter gets the sneaking suspicion these house rules are being made up on the spot, and are also only for him. He knows better than to say that aloud. “Fine.” Wait. “How am I supposed to know which random people you like or dislike?”

The Owl Lady grins. Her gold fang glints. “That sounds like a you problem, don’t you think?” She cackles a little. “Guess you’ll just have to find out! Or, you know. Maybe don’t attack anyone? That’s a start.” 

Her owl palisman coos a little. Her nose wrinkles. “What? What do you mean that’s hypocritical? Stay out of this, Owlbert, I’m teaching life lessons or something.” Her eyes turn to him. “Anyway. You get the gist.”

Hunter’s hand is curled white-knuckled around his knee. His palisman flutters from the table to his shoulder, singing nonsense again. Red tulips, so tasty. Its feathers brush against his cheek. 

He pries his grip off his knee one finger at a time. “…Understood.”

“Good.” The Owl Lady stands and stretches, yawning wide into one hand. “Anyway, I’ll give you a pass for this morning, because Hooty can be…” She trails off. Outside, muffled by the front door, the bird-worm creature shouts “HOOT” at full volume and then smacks into a tree.

“…a lot,” decides the Owl Lady. “But seriously, keep the windows locked. I don’t want you trying to blast him and burning my house down. I just got it back.”

Hunter says nothing. The Owl Lady squints at him and then picks her mug back up. “Riiiight… well, good talk, I guess. Get some more sleep, kid, you look worse than Luz after an all-nighter.” She waits. Hunter raises an eyebrow at her. “Ugh. I don’t know why I agreed to this.”

At least Hunter isn’t the only one second-guessing everything. Still, that reminds him. “The human.”

“Luz,” says the Owl Lady, unimpressed. 

“Yeah, whatever.” He links his fingers. The palisman flies down from his shoulder to his cupped hands, and hops a determined circle in his palm for no apparent reason. Hunter watches it play. “…Is she coming back?”

“What, tired of our company already?” 

“Yes,” Hunter says, because obviously.

“Rude. Well, can’t say the feeling isn’t mutual.” There’s a long silence. The Owl Lady sighs. “Luz… she promised she’d come back. You were there, weren’t you?”

Yeah, he had been. Standing in the back of the group, on the fringes of the goodbye. Two hours after the end, and the human had already roped the Owl Lady into letting Hunter live in her stupid owl house, and also somehow run around hugging pretty much everyone. And then she’d stepped through the mirrors that were all that remained of the realm-merge between her world and theirs, and not come back since. 

She had, indeed, promised to return. But that was hours ago; that was yesterday. The mirrors are gone and no doors remain. And Hunter does not put much faith in promises. 

“And when,” he asks the Owl Lady, a little lofty, a little snide. “When, exactly, do you think she’s coming back?”

The Owl Lady’s eyes narrow. Her lips press thin. For a moment he thinks she might snap at him, but then her shoulders slump, and in the end she just looks away.

“I don’t know,” the Owl Lady admits. 

Useless, Hunter thinks. But he doesn’t say it. Just nods and turns away to head back upstairs and make that stupid dusty storage room somewhat presentable, because if he’s going to be staying here for—for—for whatever amount of time he ends up staying here, he’s going to breathe actual air instead of dust, thanks.

“Remember, kid! House rules!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hunter says, and teleports back up the stairs without a single glance back.

.

Hunter manages to shove all the junk into one corner and make the start of a fairly presentable bed in the other corner by the time the human re-arrives in the Boiling Isles and throws open his door hard enough to smack it against the wall.

“You took my advice!” shouts the human, at the top of her lungs.

“Hiiiiii,” says Hunter, hands over his ears. The human takes a deep breath. Hunter closes the door in her face. “Byeeee.”

“Hey!”

“Why are you yelling.”

“I can’t believe you’re here!”

It’s just nonsensical enough to get him to open the door. Why does this always happen to him? Why is the human like this? “You said I should come here! You said—”

“Psh,” says the human and flaps a hand in his face. Hunter stops mid-word, gritting his teeth, practically feeling his whole face turn bright red with rage. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way! I just— I didn’t think you would actually listen! But you’re here!” She’s beaming. Hunter looks away. Her smile fades. “…Are you okay?”

He can’t sleep. His eyes are hot and burning like he wants to cry and he has no idea why. His uncle is dead. 

“No,” he tells her. “No one in this house dusts. I’ve forgotten what air tastes like.”

“Psh-haw! I’m sure it's not that…” The human steps inside, inhales, and chokes. “Oh. Ay Dios mío. Wow, this room has not been dusted.”

“I noticed!”

“Oh, man.” She hides her nose in her elbow and sidles outside again. She’s wearing her weird human clothes and her palisman staff strapped to her back. She looks tired, and a little like she has no idea what she’s doing here either. She lingers in the door almost awkwardly, rolling back and forth from her heels to her toes. 

Hunter watches her for a long moment. “You came back.”

“Haha. What gave it away?” But the smile she gives is small and blinding, brighter than the sun. “Watch this.”

“Watch wha—” The human lifts her hand and trails it through the air, dragging her fingers down in a straight line. Golden light follows her fingers. It breaks the air like a fractured mirror, a rift sparking to life in the hallway, the dark greens and blues of a galaxy intertwined with a burning glow. Hunter’s voice dies in his throat. 

“If I push at it, it opens. Like a door. It leads me right home.” She’s smiling so wide it must hurt. The portal almost seems to whisper; the golden glow of the rift shines in her eyes and catches on her face, still tear-streaked. The human’s cried over this. She’s right to. The human world and the Boiling Isles—she has found a way to keep both.

Presumably he thinks he should be jealous. Instead he finds himself smiling too. “I’m glad,” Hunter tells her. “That’s… pretty cool.”

“Right!?” She bounces on her heels and waves a hand through the rift, dismissing it into nothing. “I can’t wait to show Amity. And Eda. And King. And you! The human world is—it’s amazing. The rain doesn’t kill you even a little bit!”

It takes sudden effort to keep up the smile. “…I’ve heard.” 

“Anyway, I just came by to say hi. Eda said you were here, and—” She stops, visibly hesitating. Her head lowers. “I know… I know this must be hard. And that we aren’t really friends. But… if you need anyone to talk to… I’m here.” She peeks up her head a little, grinning. “After all, we’re house buddies now!”

“Human,” Hunter says. Her nose wrinkles. He sighs. “Luz.”

“Yeah?” 

There’s so much he could say that for a moment he has no idea where to start. Why did you think this was a good idea. Please stop talking. Why are you so insistent that we could be friends. I didn’t say I was staying here for long. I’m very tired. You’re bizarrely forgiving. My uncle is dead because of you. 

“…Thanks,” he says. “And— I’m sorry.”

Luz blinks at him. Then she grins. “Noooo problem, ol’ buddy ol’ pal!”

Hunter shoves her stupid smiling face away and closes the door on her toes. Luz yelps and swears and kicks at the door, and yells rude things in that other human language of hers. “Byeeeee,” Hunter says, and behind the closed door, Luz makes a muffled noise of rage and shouts, “Would you stop saying that!?”

And it doesn’t make things better but it doesn’t make things any worse, either, and when Hunter turns away he is almost smiling—so maybe it’s okay. 

.

The sun sets. The dusty room has been aired out to its best ability, and Hunter has made a somewhat functional and comfy-looking bed in the corner. A sticky note with the boiling sea + ice = human rain idea has been ceremoniously pinned to the empty wall space. In addition to the sticky notes, Luz has donated his “sad, bad boy room” what looks to be a dying houseplant. Hunter suspects she gave it to him purely because she has despaired of trying to keep it alive herself.  

He puts the plant on the windowsill. The palisman apparently loves it. Maybe he should find red tulips for it to eat. Whatever a red tulip is.

He settles next to the palisman on the windowsill, and strokes its head with his finger. He feels strangled and small and the sunset looks alien to him. Everything has changed. Everything is over. He is a powerless witch with a wild magic staff, and he will never be the Golden Guard again.

His eyes burn. He blinks fast. Far down below, he can hear the Owl Lady and Luz arguing over dinner.

“I still don’t know what I’m doing here,” Hunter tells the palisman. The sunset makes all the trees look shadow-like and sharp, outlined in red. It reminds him of his palisman, a little bit. “I don’t even like these people. What do you think? Is it too late to head back and dig myself a grave in the rubble?”

I’m happy I know you, chirps the palisman. It hops from the dying houseplant to the top of his head.  I love you, I love you.

His throat feels tight. “…That still isn’t a real answer.”

I want apple blood for breakfast tomorrow. The palisman nibbles at his hair. It looks tasty.

He’s quiet for a long moment. Then he closes his eyes. “Okay. If— if you say so.” 

The sun is setting, and the light is warm on his face. The Boiling Isles feels, for once, almost something like peaceful. It probably won’t last.

“We’ll stay.” 

[blogevaawrites]

BIG DEAL

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: smut, cheating, angst

Summary: After being away of you boyfriend for three weeks, you come to Chris´s house after he had thrown a party where you met a girl you haven’t see ever. The beginning of the relationship was unconventional so you couldn’t do anything else but suspect.

Part 1  Part 2

“It did nothing happen last night.” He said when he entered the bathroom, following me after I left the living room to take a shower, pick up my staff and go back to New York. I didn’t want to stay there; I didn’t want to be around him right then.

I wasn’t going to talk to him anymore; if there was a thing he hates the most it was the silence treatment.

“Don’t go, please” I could hear him breathing tired. “She thought it would be funny to give me her underwear” it was hilarious, I thought.

“We went out last night because we met up at the supermarket and we caught up over a few drinks, but it was nothing more”

He kept quiet for so long that I thought he wasn’t there anymore. When I got done with the shower I step out.

He was still there, resting his back against the closed door. I tried to look for a towel but I forgot to bring one when I came in. Fuck.

I covered myself with my arms instinctively which it causes him to chuckle. I rolled my eyes at him and tried to catch my chamise to put it back on.

“Don’t be shy, I could draw your body without looking at it.” he said smiling at me “You really are to me, right?” he kept talking, in a very sadly way.

I turned around, looking myself in the mirror, he stood behind me. I was about to slide the chamise back on my body lifting my arms up when I feel his hands on my hips.

He took the chamise from my arms and threw it to the other side of the room. I looked at him through the mirror, he moved my hair over my left shoulder and the water was dripping over my left breast.

I tried to ignore him and continued with my routine. I took my toothbrush ready to brush my teeth, but he took it off of my hands. He knew that if there´s something I couldn’t stand with it is was a nuisance.

I pushed him away from me to open the door and get out of it, but he was faster than me and closed the almost-opened-door again. He was doing this to make me talk to him again.

“We need to talk about this. You can´t just leave.” He said. I tried to look around the bathroom to find something to cover me up but my chamise was now on the floor under his feet. I didn’t want to give up, but I wasn’t comfortable with him when he was fully dressed, and I was completely naked.

“I did nothing wrong, so I won't let you go without talking about this” he warned me.

I wasn’t exactly doubting about what he had or hadn’t done last night. I was mad about him don’t telling who she was, he made me believe that he just met her. I was mad about the underwear “joke”. I was mad about him making me feel I was overreacting.

He waited me to say something, but I did not. Instead of answering him I tried to get into the shower again, but he blocked my way.

At that point, I was angry, so he was. I was about to open the door again, but he caught my arm before I could do it.

He cornered me against the sink. He was so much taller and stronger than me that it wasn’t difficult to him to turn me around and push me with his chest against the sink. I had to lift my arms to hold myself from bending over in front of him.

“Talk to me” he ordered me. I didn’t want to talk, but I did want him to love me. Rough.  

I rubbed my butt against to his dick noticing that he was more than ready for that.

He smiled at me, but he didn’t do anything else. I lifted my arms to his neck and arched my back so he could have a better view of my breast.

But he didn’t do anything. Again.

I turned around and tried to kiss him, but he moved his head away.

I tried to remove his t-shirt, but I didn’t have to, because he did by himself.

He smiled me again, we both knew what was about to happen.

I kissed his chest and I knelt in front of him wanting to taste him. I pushed his pants down along with his underwear. I wanted to take his hard dick in my mouth when he stepped back, moving away from me. Again.

He wanted me to talk, but I wasn’t going to give up.

I sat over the sink. One of us had to give up first. And it wasn’t going to be me.

I opened my legs slowly, showing him his weakness. I ran my hand over my breast, my stomach, and my wet folds.

He stood there, looking at my eyes in completely silence. If it wasn’t for his obvious erection, I would have believed I was fooling around.

“It won´t work, honey” he knew what I was doing and clearly it won´t be easy to make him give up.

I started to rub my clit a little be rude, but he didn’t move.

I inserted a finger in me, and I looked at him, but he didn’t move.

I inserted a second finger, in a last try, but it didn´t work, he didn’t move.

I was about to stopped when my mouth let go an unintentionally moan and it worked.

His breathing changed and his dick looked painfully hard. I smiled.

I started to move my fingers faster and moan louder. He stopped looking at my eyes, his eyes were at mouth and fingers. His hand stroked his male part slowly, holding himself while he walked to me. His lips were at my ear and his hand pin down my movements. “Say it” he whispered, “Say it and I would make you cum until you can´t walk”.

I just could whine, and he failed it.

His weakness wasn’t seeing me ready and wanting him, his weakness were my moans for him.

He moved my hand away and stuck his fingers into me, without any warning. He kept me in my spot holding me from the back of my neck while his fingers were ruining me.

“Your little pussy is always so tight, isn't it?” he wouldn’t stop talking “You´re drenching my fingers, baby” he movements went roughly “Let´s stretch you out.” I shut my eyes and clenched my fists

“Come for me, doll. Let you go in my hand” his mouth was on my mine and kissed me sloppily. I came in his fingers and cried out in his lips.

“That was so good” I babbled. I just could hear his laugh.

“Thank you” he said, I furrowed my brow and then I realized what he was talking about. I talked.

He helped me to go down from the sink and turned me around to look at me through the mirror. He put my hands up behind his neck and took my hips roughly making me arch my back.

I felt the head of his member against my folds when I stopped him. Images of him and Ashley filled up my brain. I couldn’t help it; I wasn’t trusting him, and he wasn’t telling all the truth.

“Put on a condom” I said, he looked at me confused, it has been a while since we stopped using them, I was on the pill, so a pregnancy wasn’t on the table.

“Why?” he knew why, he just wanted me to say “I don’t trust you” vocalizing our biggest issue, but I wanted to have him.

“Just put it on” he lifted his arm to grab one from the upper cabinet, and he put it on staring at me through the mirror.

I was still sensitive so when he pushed himself inside of me, he had to keep my hips still to not move away from him. It felt delightful, big, and comforting. He always felt like that.

He started to move with powerful strokes. He usually begins to move slowly and easy until I was stretched around his intrusion, but now he was hurt and mad.

He fucked me relentlessly, his hands pulling my hips back onto his cook crudely. He pushed me over the sink and spread my legs more open.

His cook was hitting my most inner spot. Breathing became a difficult activity while my hands were trying to keep my body stable.

My legs started to shake, and my walls squeezed his dick, his eyes were closed when I felt rough pads on my clit.

I came painfully while he kept working himself inside me until he found his own relief.

After he and I took a shower, separately, we were in his bedroom in completely silence.

“I almost did it, but I didn’t” he said.

He was looking at the floor, but he was talking to me.

“We caught up and we got drunk. She told me she was dating with a guy, but he was a dick so they kind of broke up. I told her I was still dating with you and that I was in love with you.”

That took me by surprise, we haven’t talk about love yet.

“She got very drunk and I wasn’t well to drive neither, so I called a cab, and we came here. I don’t know what happed, but we kissed. To be honest I think I would have had sex with her if it weren’t for the text you sent me that night. Do you remember? You told you were done with all your work and you were going to call me before driving back here in the morning.” I was always on time. I didn’t know what to say but it wasn’t necessary because he continued

“I know that being drunk is not an excuse, but I don’t know what I was thinking about. I saw you text and I took her to the guestroom, and I came back here. I didn’t know she was coming to the party, I didn’t invite her, but I couldn’t just kick her out. I didn’t want to be an asshole. When you saw us talking, she was giving me her underwear and she was coming on to me. She was drunk and depressed about her ex, she wasn’t being a whore, she was just hurt. After our kiss she might have confuse things and that was my blame” he walked closer to me and lifted my head gently to make me look at his eyes

“I´m sorry. I don’t want to lose you. I should have told you everything, but I was ashamed” he looked honest and very sad.

My biggest fear about of relationship it was now confirmed. He said he loved me but if it wasn't for my text, he would have fucked her, in the same bed he shared with me.

“Say something, please” he begged, and it broke my heart hearing him, but I didn’t know what to do or say.

“I’m going to leave” that was everything I could say.

"Honey, please! Let's..." he moved to me but I stopped him with my hand. He sat down at the edge of the bed.

“So that´s it? Are you leaving me?” I moved around the room looking for my phone charger while he kept asking.

“Are we breaking up or you just want to leave this house?” I couldn’t breathe, and kept talking.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I did not mean to hurt you. I wasn’t thinking clearly.” He didn’t stop talking and I couldn’t find my damn charger. I was getting anxious and weepy.

“Talk to me!” he said louder, not exactly shouting but getting mad. I exploded.

“I don’t know what to say, Chris. I don’t want to hear you right now. I don’t know if I want to break this up or I'm just tired or ...” I went in circles. “I’m just leaving this house to calm down. We could talk later; I’m just going to go back to New York to cool off” I finally found my charger. I picked up my bag and headed to the door.

“I thought you got the week free” he said calmly “I did” I turned back to him.

He was staring at me “Why don’t you stay here then?” I just looked at him, and he continued “I mean you could stay in other room and I won´t talk to you until you want to talk. I promised” he smiled.

“Chris, I…” he interrupted me.

“Or you could stay in a hotel, here, in Boston” he said hopefully.

“Chris, I don’t think …” I was interrupted again. He wanted me to talk before and now I couldn’t do it. I smiled.

“Look, I do understand that you need space right now, but if you stay we can go to dinner out tonight, or have a morning walk tomorrow, or both” he chuckled at his last words. He continued

“We could talk about this. I would do whatever you want me to do but, please, let´s try to fix this” he asked softly, he was sat the end on his bed looking at the floor.

“I don’t like hotel´s rooms” I said, walking to stand between his legs and to hold his hands.

“Then stay here, this house is big enough for both of us” he said smiling. His hands went to the back of my tights guiding me to straddle him. Our favorite position.

“I love you” Chris whispered in my ear.

[fallingfor-fics]

Teachers Pet- chapter 32: holiday break

All chapters 

chapter 31

"So y/n did you decide where you are gonna go for holiday break?" Hermione asked as I sat across from her and Ron, sitting awkwardly next to Harry, I didn't think about how I'd feel seeing him. It was weird but not uncomfortable. "Yeah I decided to just stay here." I said eating a piece of bacon.

 I had already informed Hermione of all the things that happened last night, except the whole Draco in a bathroom stall with Harry thing of course. I felt bad for not being able to tell, but it wasn't my place to say anything. Which reminded me, I looked down the table to see Ginny sitting with some friends. I wonder if Harry told her or broke up with her. I nudged his arm and asked him whispering the question to him, "Oh I um I didn't tell her anything, I think i'm gonna wait till after break, I don't want to ruin her trip home. Plus I'm going to be staying with the Weasleys. I don't want it to be awkward." he hushed back to me. I looked down at the girl, laughing with her friends, she looked at me and smiled and waved, I returned the gesture then looked at Harry. "Well I guess that's nice of you, you know even after you guys break up, she's still our friend and Ron's sister, so you're still gonna have to see her." I reminded him, "I just don't want to hurt her." he said looking down, picking at his food. I rested a hand on his, "I'm afraid that's gonna be a result no matter what, but a way to help ease her pain would be telling her everything, I'm sure she'll understand. She's sweet like that." He looked down the table at her and nodded in agreement. "I will." he said, sighing. "Will what?" Ron asked, "Make sure to keep you out of trouble." I said giving a sarcastic grin, "More like i've got to write to them everyday to make sure they haven't gotten into any sticky situations." Hermione said giggling. We all laughed along and finished our breakfast.

"I will catch you guys before you leave. I need to take care of something real quick." I said excusing myself and exiting the dining hall. I walked out and turned down the hallway, I had planned to go see Dumbledore since he never came to breakfast, but stopped by the entrance hall, I walked over to witness Professor Snape handing over a certain bloody, black eyed, blonde haired creep to some ministry officers and guards. What happened? I looked curiously and confused at the scene, why was his face all fucked up? I also saw Dumbledore standing there giving information to the men. "What happened to his face?" one guard questioned looking at Severus. "He fell." Severus drawled as they took Lockhart. "I'm telling you I didn't do a thing!" Gilderoy screeched, he was relentless, and an idiot for thinking they would listen. "Save it for the judge." an officer said scoffing. They dragged him off out of sight, Dumbledore following to see them out. I walked up to Snape who was watching them yank the still squirming fool. A slight grin to his face. "So he fell huh?" I said quietly, stopping a few feet behind him, also enjoying the scene. I wasn't sure if he wanted to talk to me anymore after what had happened, but despite his yelling, insults, and deceptions last night, I still wanted to be near him. "Yes because he is an imbecile." he responded, not turning to look at me. I practically burned holes into his back with my gaze, shifting down to his tightly clenched fist. I noticed it looked a little red on his knuckles and that's when I put two and two together. "Did he happen to fall on your fist?" I said laughing a bit, trying not to smile too much at the thought of Snape beating the crap out of Lockhart. "What?" he said furrowing his brows and looking at me, "Your fist Sir, it's a little roughed up." I said motioning to the hand. He quickly crossed his arms hiding it from sight as soon as he realized. "It's fine I don't think they noticed and I'm sure as heck not gonna say anything, plus it's not like Dumbledore couldn't tell. You were practically giddy watching him being dragged off." I said smiling, "I was not giddy." I just nodded smiling, "Thank you." I said looking into his coal black eyes. "For?" he questioned furrowing his brows, "Punching him for me." I said walking closer to him, his eyes followed me and he tensed up a bit. "Not everything is about you Ms. L/n. I hit him because he's an idiot and deserves it." he retorted his normal cold face along with his deep stern voice. I guess we are completely back to this, last name and everything. "Right," I said nodding " well I will catch you later, thank you for beating him up for being an idiot." I added turning and walking back down the hall, he could continue to be normal to me, but that doesn't mean I wasn't gonna at least try to be nice so I could maybe have a conversation with him about everything. I still had lots of questions.

Breakfast had ended and all the kids had begun to exit the hall, all of them in their friend groups, I went and found the group, including Ginny and Draco, and all the kids that were leaving got ready. "Are you sure you don't want to at least come with us to the station?" Draco asked for the second time now. "Yes I'm sure I don't feel like the trip." I reassured him. "Alright, well we are gonna be leaving soon, so Goodbye, I hope you find some fun stuff to do, you can always write to me as well." he said as I hugged him, "And us too!" Ginny said, turning from her conversation with Harry, giving me a hug as well. "I will keep all of this in mind." I said hugging Harry, Ron and Hermione too. I hated saying my goodbyes to my friends because that meant I was gonna be all alone. I was probably gonna be bored out of my mind, Draco told me to just try and sleep most of the day or visit Hogsmeade to pass the time. Which was convenient the first couple days, but it was the day before new years eve and I had already slept enough to last me a decade, and had already been to hogsmeade three times, all within the span of these five days. I had tried convincing Dumbledore to throw a little New years eve party for the remaining students and staff, but all he could agree on was a small firework show. Which alone took me an half hour of persuasive talk and a little bit of guilt tripping to get. I walked to the dining hall for dinner, nose in the book I had been reading, Lolita, I had paused reading for a moment when the yule ball got closer and I got distracted. As I walked down the hall I bumped into a figure, my book falling to the floor. Hoping it wasn't my professor, since I knew he was one of the only ones that stayed here at Hogwarts. "Oops my bad sorry, I wasn't paying attention." I said as the man kindly picked up my book, "That's quite alright." he said handing it to me, I smiled thanking him and he just gave a curious look when he read the title, when I realized his face I put my hands behind my back with it. I didn't recognize the man, he had light brown hair, pretty blue eyes, a small beard and mustache, and a few scars on his face. He had dark brown dress pants with a matching vest over a beige button up and tie. He was a fairly handsome man in all honesty. I smiled awkwardly when I realized I had been staring, I didn't want him to think I was trying to be rude. "I'm Y/n L/n a sixth year Slytherin." I said, smiling up at the man and extending one of my hands to shake, "I'm Remus Lupin, I'm going to be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. '' he said, accepting my hand and shaking it softly. "Well I hope you aren't like the last one." I said in a more serious tone, but still with a small smile. "I can assure you I am nothing like that goon." he said grinning. I could tell I was going to like this teacher, he seemed nice and put together and normal. "Have you found your way around alright?" He put his hands in his pockets and nodded, "I actually used to attend Hogwarts as a boy, so I'm very familiar with the grounds." he said smiling. "Oh well that's good because this is my first year here so I don't know where every hall leads." I laughed lightly. "Well thank Merlin one of us knows." he chuckled joking, "What house are you in?" I asked after a moment. "I am in Gryffindor actually." I nodded in response, "Well it was nice to meet you, I look forward to your class and talking some more, also I have convinced Albus to have a firework show tomorrow night for new years, so I hope to see you there." I said smiling and patting his arm as I walked past him, "Great, I'll be there, it was nice meeting you as well." He smiled sweetly as I nodded and walked to the great hall.

This was my first time actually going to dinner, the past couple days I either spent it in Hogsmeade or ate in my room. I walked in getting the first glimpse of the students that stayed behind, most looked to be at least fifth years. I looked over to the staff table to see who stayed behind. I saw Trelawney, Hagrid, Filch, Madame Pomfrey, and my beloved Professor Snape. I looked around at the Slytherin table, not recognizing any of the students there and sighed, I looked over at the other tables and skimmed over the scattered students. I got to the Ravenclaw table and smiled when I saw Luna sitting and smiling reading a book. I walked over to her and sat down across from her, "Hey what are you reading?" I asked looking down at the cover, she smiled looking up at me, "Hello Y/n, and i'm reading The Interpretation of Dreams by Freud." she responded, closing her book and putting it down on the table. "What about you?" she said motioning to the book tucked in my arm. "Oh I don't know just some book called Lolita." I said awkwardly, hoping she hadn't read it before, I didn't want her to think I was odd. "What's it about?" she questioned with big eyes, "Um well, it's about a man and a girl he likes." I said trying to be as vague as possible. "Cool." I nodded, smiling awkwardly. We both looked over as Dumbledore walked in, he walked up to his podium and smiled. "Hello everyone, I hope you all are having a good break so far, I wanted to inform you of the small firework show my goddaughter has convinced me to have for new years. It will start at midnight obviously, and will take place in front of the lake. Now let's eat." he said as the food appeared. It wasn't as much as usual since there were only a handful of kids, but each table had its own as usual. "So lovely you convinced him to do that." Luna said, cutting her food. "Right? I thought, we are here for the new year and it's only a few of us so it would be fun, I'm glad he agreed." I smiled, taking a bite from a roll. "I love fireworks." she said quietly as she took a sip of her drink, I nodded in agreement with a full mouth. "Yeah they are real fun, " I said swallowing, " it was my sister's favorite part of the new year." I added smiling. "Yeah my mom loved them too." I was so happy to find out Luna was here, we may not be best friends, but she was still a friend of mine, and I knew she was happy to talk with and see me as well.

Once dinner ended, Luna and I went for a walk outside around the school, talking about all kinds of things. We hadn't even realized how much time had passed until it had gotten too dark to see clearly. "Wow it's already almost ten o'clock, we should probably start making our way back into the school." I said looking down at my watch. "Time really does fly when you're having fun." she said smiling, we walked up back into the school and I walked with her to her common room. "Do you want to come in and talk some more?" She offered, opening the door. I contemplated for a moment then nodded, "Yeah sure." I said as I followed her in. I gawked at the interior, it was beautiful in here. I followed her to the couch and we both sat down. "So did you hear about the new DADA teacher?" I asked, still looking around at the room. "No, what happened to Lockhart?" she said softly furrowing her brows. "Oh he um, he got arrested." I said playing with my fingers. "Really? Wow how interesting, who is replacing him?" she said, smiling at my amazement of the room. "This man named Remus Lupin. I ran into him and we talked, he seemed nice." I said smiling, "Oh the one that used to attend Hogwarts?" I nodded, "Yeah he's in Gryffindor. How'd you know about him?" I said furrowing my brows. "He was brought up by a painting I was talking with one day." she answered smiling softly. "Oh that's cool, what did they say about him?" she thought for a moment, "Just that his friends and him would cause trouble sometimes, and were a pretty tight-knit group and that there are rumours about him." I furrowed my brows, "what rumours?" I asked very intrigued, "Oh I don't know, just suspicions he's like a... werewolf or something. But I don't know those are just rumours and kids like to make up stuff all the time here." she said laughing, me laughing with her. "I wonder what the school was like back then." I said looking around the room. "I don't know, but i've heard stories." We continued for a few more hours, her telling me all the stories she had heard, and more about herself. I had a great time talking to her she was so nice and smart. She even told me her patronus was a hare, which tells you everything. She was very pleased to hear what mine was, she thought that was a sign that I was special, but I just laughed it off. Eventually we both started getting tired and I headed back to my room.

Taglist; @lovelyhoneylemon @juliijah

[commonwealthoccurences]

Companions React: Institute Offers Surgery To Intersex Sole

Note: Please let me know if I mishandled this or anything came across as insensitive so I can come back and fix it! I would hate to make anyone feel misrepresented or offended by the way this was written. Thank you and thank you for reading.

CW: Uh, a lot of anger and violence mentions. Lots of swearing.

The Scenario: Every time Sole sat the companion down for a serious conversation they lost about ten years off their life; no one ever did that to give good news. As soon as Sole announced they had something to tell the companion, they sat and looked up at Sole warily. After a moment, Sole took a deep breath and sat down across from them. “Do you know what intersex means?” They asked.

“Yeah.” The companion’s tone was more questioning than anything.

“I’m intersex. And I want… your opinion on something. The Institute offered, uhm, surgery. If you catch my drift.”

Cait:

Cait felt fury rise in her as soon as the words left Sole’s mouth. “And did ya ask for it first?” She stood, fists clenched.

Sole shook their head and looked down at their clasped hands, trying to push away their internal confliction to listen to Cait. “Then it’s none of their goddamn business, ya hear me? You’re perfect the way ya are, and unless taking up their offer is gonna make you happier, they can stick their offer where the sun don’t shine!” She was indignant, practically shouting by the end of her speech.

Sole laughed at Cait’s way with words, comforted by the fact that she was so furious on their behalf. “Thank you.” They replied quietly.

“Gods, they have nothin’ but audacity. Can you imagine?!” She was talking to herself at that point.

Cait paused and shook her head. “Now listen. I’m not gonna tell ya one way or another, ya know how I feel about them. If it would make ya happy it’s worth it. But never let anyone tell ya to change a goddamn thing. Especially not the Institute, of all people!”

Curie:

“I’m afraid I don’t understand. Why would they offer surgery if there’s nothing wrong?”

Sole laughed quietly. Curie was nowhere near naive, but she had yet to deal with the full spectrum of human ignorance. “It’s, uh. How do I put it? For some people, it makes them more comfortable since it’s what’s... expected.”

“And you? Would it make you more comfortable? That’s the only thing that matters.”

“I don’t know… I don’t think so. I think I’m just fine.”

“Then that’s it. You’re just fine. They should mind their own business.”

Curie stood, smoothing out the front of her shirt as she looked around thoughtfully. “Quite insulting that they were in your business like that.” She shook her head. “Disgraceful. They call themselves scientists, yet have no respect.”

Danse:

Danse had no hesitation when it came to getting angry at the Institute, but this was a whole different level. The absolute nerve astounded him. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, reigning in his anger at the fact that they would so blatantly disrespect Sole. “How do you feel about it?” He asked. After all, their opinion was the most important.

“Offended, to be honest.” They let out a short, wry laugh. “I don’t think I want it.”

“There’s no reason to change yourself to appease the absolute ignorance of an institution that helps no one. They don’t have your best interests at heart, so unless getting the surgery would make you happier, I’ll make sure you get to blow the first charge when we get rid of them.”

Sole laughed. “I’ll take you up on that offer.”

Deacon:

“What?”

“They offered surgery.”

“No, I think I must’ve heard you wrong. You’re not saying they offered you surgery because you’re intersex, right?”

Sole nodded, biting at their bottom lip in discomfort. Deacon simply began to laugh dryly, though his clenched fists and the twitching of his upper lip showed he was very obviously not impressed, nor humored. “Bold bastards. I’m sorry they’d insult you like that, Sole, you deserve better.” There was a beat of silence. “I should’ve asked first; do you want the surgery? Would that make you happier?”

Sole shook their head. “No. I’m good the way I am.”

Deacon smiled and nodded, lifting his arm for a fistbump. “Exactly.”

The two stood and returned to their tasks, silence reigning in the small room as they both got lost in thought. After a couple moments of Deacon tinkering with his weapon and Sole writing down their inventory list, they were startled by Deacon slamming his screwdriver down. “The absolute nerve of them, though! What the fuck?”

Sole simply laughed in response, shaking their head. They had no idea either.

Gage:

“And you shot them, right? Their brains are currently splattered across their grossly clean walls, right?” Gage’s gaze was intensely stern.

Sole shook their head, tempted to laugh at his protectiveness. “No. I didn’t, don’t think I would’ve made it back in one piece if I did.”

“You’re not gonna listen to them, right? They’re sick as fuck, Sole, I wouldn’t trust their standard for anything as far as I could throw one of their scientists.”

“No, I didn’t listen to them. They’re considered fucked up for a reason, Gage. I know better. It just… sucked. That they thought it was obvious or something.” Sole shook their head and played with the sleeve of their shirt. “I dunno.”

“I’ll kill them. Say the word. I swear to God.”

Sole laughed. “You can’t take on the entire Institute, Gage.”

“Watch me. Those pieces of shit need to learn their place.”

Hancock:

Hancock said nothing and simply opened up his arms. Being confronted with the fact that certain parts of society considered you different was nothing strange to him, and he knew how much it could sting. When they accepted his offer and rose from their seat to fold themself into his arms, he felt his anger surge to a new level. How dare they make them feel this way? Carefully, he rubbed their back. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” They replied, voice muffled in his coat. “Just insulted, y’know.”

“Yeah, I get it, sweetheart.” Hancock moved his hand to squeeze their shoulder. “We’ll get those bastards back, and then some, yeah?”

Sole nodded and pulled away with a resigned sigh. “Don’t worry your pretty head over it. Their opinion means nothing, y’know? God knows I’ll have to ruin them if they stress you out.”

MacCready:

“Fu-fri-no, y’know what? They deserve it! Fucking pieces of shit!” Mac cursed, voice raised.

Sole looked up at him, a bit stunned by the outburst. “Sorry.” He muttered, turning his head away. “What did you tell them? How do you feel about it?”

They shrugged. “I don’t want it, I’m pretty sure. Thought about it a lot. I just wanted your opinion, I guess.”

“What the hell does my opinion have to do with it? Whatever makes you happy is priority, Sole. Both the Institute and I can get screwed if we try to interfere with that.”

They gave him a small smile. “Thanks Mac.”

MacCready nodded and reached over to squeeze their shoulder in reassurance. He shook his head at the situation, but gave them a smile. “It’s gonna be alright, Sole. Don’t take anything they say seriously.”

Nick:

Nothing about this surprised him, and he had to roll his eyes at the Institute’s audacity. “Yeah, sounds like them. What did you say?”

“I said I wasn’t interested. I don’t know, I thought about it and it’s not something I care to get done.”

Nick nodded and fumbled with his cigarette, watching the smoke plume thoughtfully. “As long as you’re happy, yeah? I’ll walk back into that hellhole and hold your hand the entire way if you need me to.”

Sole grinned. The detective was short with words, but he always knew what needed to be said. “Thanks, Nick, but that’s not something you’ll need to worry about.”

He tapped the ash off his cigarette. “Good. They’re idiots anyway, you don’t need to change a thing.”

Piper:

Piper hadn’t felt rage overcome her that way in such a long time. Her hands shook as she placed her head in her hands and took a deep breath. “Bastards!” She cursed, then, “Sorry, Blue. What did you say?”

Sole shook their head. “I said no.”

Piper nodded and smiled bitterly. “Good.” She stood and stepped away, biting at the skin next to her nails. “Who even says something like that out of the blue? Like that’s a normal offer to make?” She threw her hands up, eyebrows narrowed in enraged confusion.

Preston:

Preston resisted the urge to clench his jaw. Maybe this was something Sole wanted, maybe it would make them feel more comfortable, despite the fact that the offer was coming from somewhere disgusting. “How do you feel about it?”

“Kind of insulted, actually. It’s not really any of their business, and I definitely didn’t ask.”

Preston nodded and pressed his lips together, cracking his knuckles absentmindedly. “We should check in with Sturges on how close to complete the plan is.” The look in his eyes conveyed all the anger Sole needed to see.

They sighed. “It’s not worth getting riled up over, Preston, really. I dunno. I suppose it might’ve been coming from a place of concern, albeit ignorant concern.”

“I won’t start something over it if you don’t want me too, but there’s a few choice words I’d love to get their way before we blow them into the sky.”

X6-88:

X6’s expression grew colder. “There was a mistake.” He stated simply.

“No, Six. They meant it.”

“Which scientist was this? What team?” He asked, calm despite the chill his expression was sending through Sole.

“Uhm, I’m not sure the specifics of her team. Doctor O’hara, with the medical staff. I was in there for vaccinations.”

X6 nodded and stood, movements stiffer than usual, which was saying something. “And this question. It was invasive and disrespectful, if I wasn’t mistaken by your tone?”

Sole nodded, not sure where he was going with this line of conversation. “I will be… speaking to her supervisor.” They had to raise an eyebrow at the inflection they gave to “speaking.” They watched him leave, wondering if they should say something, before blowing out a sigh. They’d hate to be part of that team right now.

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Visitation - November 2020

A full year since your first visitation, you find yourself getting ready to meet Yancy in a different place in the prison. One hour. One ‘date’. How would it go?

Word Count: 1,949

-

Even if visiting Happy Trails Penitentiary once a month was a regular event at this point for you, it didn’t dismiss the butterflies that were fluttering in the pit of your stomach as you arrived with a rucksack. This, in a way, was the first ‘date’ with Yancy since you started your romantic relationship. Finding love as part of a volunteer project was not part of the plan, but now you couldn’t see this any other way. The letters that were sent back and forth were kept together in a folder in your room where they would be safe. A year let you see the little things that happened through Yancy’s writing: how it became easier to write letters that spanned several pages, how Yancy’s handwriting grew a little neater as the months passed, how he continued using the notebook paper and stationery you gave him. You were sure he could see the same in you. Maybe he’d notice the way you spoke more about your life (the good and the bad), or how you put care into your letters, even going as far as adding some doodles in the hope it’d make him smile.

You were in love, and there was no denying that.

The receptionist gave a knowing smile as she explained how conjugal visits went while a guard checked the contents of your bag. How obvious were the nerves, despite the fact it was the same thing as usual? There was a small apartment-like setup in a quiet wing of the prison. It consisted of an open space living room-kitchen combo, a bathroom, and a bedroom that would be locked (it was reserved for families that had to travel long distances for conjugal visits). The rules were rattled off: you and your possessions would be searched to ensure nothing suspicious was inside, cleanliness would be crucial, you would receive a half-hour warning, among other things.

“An’ above all, I don’t wanna hear y’all were up to any funny business.” The Warden’s sudden appearance made you jump. “I know you two’re fine, upstanding youths, but if I catch a peep of trouble, there’ll be a firm warnin’ given. I know that’s not gonna be th’ case!” He slapped your shoulder with an amused chuckle, and it took all your might to bottle up a wince. “I wanna wish ya luck. We’ve been running this here volunteer project for over ten years now, and this is only th’ second time a volunteer and prisoner started datin’. I’m happy for the both of ya. You’ve done more good for Yancy than anyone else. C’mon, I’ll bring ya down.”

-

As you were led to the conjugal room, Warden Murder-Slaughter began telling you how he noticed Yancy’s improved mood over recent weeks. The greaser had been working on bettering himself and engaging with classes. He had a reason to do these things thanks to you, the Warden surmised. He looked like he was going to say something else, but decided against it. You were suspicious at first, but you quickly realised you were approaching an open door. A voice could be heard from inside giving a warning of some sort, before an aggravated “Youse don’t need to remind me of this for the fifth time!” was snapped in return. 

“Sounds like Yancy made it here first,” the Warden laughed as he pushed the door open. “An’ I’m sure he’s gonna be on his best behaviour. It’s a special day, right?” He smirked at Yancy, who was standing beside a coffee table. The prisoner’s response was a grumble and a hand rubbing the back of his neck. “We’ll leave ya alone. C’mon Smith.” The guard nodded and followed after the Warden, closing the door and leaving you two alone.

Even if Yancy was in his normal prisoner outfit, it looked brighter than before. Was it specially cleaned, or was it a new one just for the occasion? Then again, you had dressed up beyond your normal visitation clothes. Before anything could be said, you put your bag down and charged into his arms for a hug. It was immediately reciprocated as he pulled you close to his chest. It was better than any of the brief hugs you shared in greeting during previous visitation sessions. It was almost like you were home. A strange sentiment to feel, but it was the best comparison you could think of. He smelled like soap, with a faint lingering of smoke; and his embrace was warm.

“It’s good to see youse too.” Yancy eventually broke the silence, reluctantly pulling back just far enough to see your face. “Youse look perfect today. Can’t believe this is actually happening…” A thought that had crossed your mind many times today. It was likely why neither of you wanted to break the hug, but Yancy was the one who made the brave decision to end it so he could lift a small package wrapped haphazardly in toilet paper.

“I, uh, didn’t have no wrapping paper.” You insisted it was fine, and ripped it apart to reveal a grey prison cap. “I’ve been savin’ up money I’ve earned while working the cleaning shifts, and I know it ain’t much but I wanted to show that I do care an’ -” As he rambled, you unfolded the cap and put it on before kissing him on the cheek to cut him off. “O-oh. Looks good on youse. Thought it was better than something like a shirt. Huh? Oh, yeah. We can buy all sorts of little things like this in commissary. But youse gotta save up if youse don’t have a trust fund.” It did explain why he previously resorted to chocolate bars. You made a note to ask about that at reception afterward. For now, you plucked your bag off the ground and offered him a large bottle of soda.

“Fuck yeah, you remembered! Did youse get the chips too?” Your answer was to pull the snack out and playfully shake it. “Hold on, I seen bowls and glasses!”

-

Snacks and drinks were shared as you two curled up on the couch and chatted. It was definitely a better setting than the visitation room. Without anyone watching you, both of you could relax and be completely at ease. The only distraction was the half-hour warning, and that’s when you noticed Yancy seemed to close up a little. You playfully poked his side and pointed out that another conjugal visit could be arranged once the staff see today went well, but Yancy gave a quick shake of his head. He bit the inside of his cheek and glanced aside like he was trying to build confidence. Instead of encouraging him to talk, you took one of his hands in yours and squeezed it softly.

“Sorry. I ain’t trying to ruin the day. I just… Thought this would be easier than it is.” You were quick to assure him that it was okay, and he should take his time. It was appreciated. Yancy forced himself to take a slow breath before looking at you. 

“I love youse. I have for months. I know that’s a bit stupid since we’ve been sorta dating most of the year, but I means it. And I wanna do what I can to show I’m serious ‘bout this. This ain’t no little fling, or me being nice to not hurt youse’s feelings. I love you, really. So I, well…” Another slow breath was taken to motivate himself. “I wanna apply for parole. You don’t deserve a boyfriend locked up in prison. I wanna be a better person for youse, the man youse should be with. It ain’t gonna be easy, an’ it’s gonna take a year or so to get things going but… If youse is okay with waiting, then I’ll do everything I can to prove I can try - try and be a good guy.” You felt your heart stumble over itself in surprise. You had been told a year ago how Yancy was a prisoner that would be happy to rot behind bars. Looking at him now, you couldn’t help but smile and promise you’d help in any way you could. “I just need to knows that you’ll be there. I had nothing worth living for out there before I met you and - and while life is pretty great in here, I wanna see your world.”

You hugged him tight. It was all you could do. His arms were around you in a flash as his breathing turned slightly shaky. No matter what, you’d be there every step of the way. He wouldn’t be alone when parole was granted. You’d be there, and you’d introduce him to your own friends and family. He’d have people who wanted to help him by his side.

“Even if I’ve killed people?” You countered whether he had the urge to kill anyone now. “No! ‘Course not! I’m not some creep who loves that kinda thing!” That was enough for you to support him, a fact that had Yancy pause in realisation.

“I ain’t a nice guy. I get angry pretty easily. I don’t know a lotta stuff, an’ I ain’t good at learning things.” Points, you argued, that weren’t important enough to end a relationship. Yancy was human. No one was perfect. 

“Youse is gonna get some weird looks, dating a guy like me.” You could hear resignation in his voice at that. He was trying to talk himself out of this, not try and scare you off. Reinforcing the hug was your immediate response. No matter what, you’d be there. No one can truly look down on a man who is trying to do better.

“Y’know youse ain’t gonna be able to move out of the state, yeah? Not without a lotta paperwork.” At last, you broke into a giggle and insisted moving out of state was less important than living somewhere with Yancy there too. That was enough to help the doubts lift as Yancy laughed. “Yeah… I’d like that. You an’ me… It’d be nice, I bet.”

The last minutes were spent close together, talking about what the parole process was (you had to look it up online) and what would need to be done. It was a promising start to have Yancy feeling more confident. As he joked about how he’d challenge the parole board to a fist fight to prove his worth, you realised that it was something he did want to do. In a way, it was like you gave him the strength to look beyond the prison walls and wonder about the world that had turned its back on him years ago.

But before you could climb off the couch to get ready to leave, Yancy took your hand to keep you sitting. He looked you in the eye with a soft smile spreading on his lips. “Before we go, I, uh… I wanna do something first.” You trusted him, so you nodded to give permission. His free hand rested on your cheek as he leaned close and kissed you. It was gentle and brief, yet there was a trace of ‘thank you’ in the action. “We never properly kissed before now. Got a little carried away with all that chit-chat.” You grinned and returned the gesture. The love you had was mixed with excitement. A step had been made in the relationship, making it more official than before. 

“Love you.”

A year can bring so many things, good and bad. Even when one year ends, the next can bring about its own excitement. It might be a long road ahead, but you were ready to take it on every step of the way.

---

---

And that’s a wrap! One full year of visitations! I did have fun working on this, but I’m glad to be finished. It’s entirely your decision how things go from here, but I’m sure it will be a happy ending.

Should you ever feel like reading the entire series in one go, head on over to my AO3, where I have it all ready and waiting!

[hood-ex]

for prompt: dick + jason (+ maybe cass?) doing Peak Older Sibling thing of getting tipsy together and complaining about Kids These Days even though they're like in their twenties

Read on AO3

Dick knows it’s time to leave the art show when he’s nearly finished his third glass of champagne. He feels all the warm and bubbly effects from it, and he’s sure that Cass—wherever she is—is probably feeling the same way. 

His only problem now is that he’s got to figure out where Cass went. He thinks the last time he saw her is when she disappeared upstairs to the second floor. There’s a projector up there playing a video about god knows what, and Dick has a feeling Cass went up there to watch it to take a people break.  

He downs the last of his drink and hands the empty glass off to one of the passing by staff workers before he sets off on his search. He wanders past the wall of paintings he already looked at earlier in the night and heads for the stairs.

A few socialites he’s familiar with from past Wayne galas come up to him and try to stop him for a chat. Dick quickly shakes their hands and schmoozes with them a little for appearance’s sake. He tries to keep things short and polite because he really doesn’t want to get caught up in a thirty-minute conversation. 

Thankfully, most people seem to be just as tired and hungry as he is, and they easily let him go when he offhandedly mentions needing to find his sister.

Dick’s halfway up the stairs when he sees Cass appear at the top with slightly flushed cheeks. Her glittery black dress catches in the light and makes her look like a pretty jewel. She smiles at him when their eyes meet, and Dick has to hold back a laugh at the way she throws a hand up and waves at him. He can tell he was right about her being just as tipsy as him. 

“Hey!” Dick says excitedly as he finishes walking up to her. He holds up his hand and she high fives him hard enough to make his hand sting. “Ready to go?” he asks, and this time he holds his arm out for her to grab on to so she won’t trip down the stairs in her heels. Not that he can imagine Cass doing something so clumsy, but, well, better to be safe than sorry. 

“I’ve been ready,” Cass says a little too loudly, making Dick wince. She links her arm with his, and they slowly make it back to the ground floor without incident. 

Dick’s hand brushes Cass’s wrist when they let go of each other, and he frowns at how cold she is. He knows that even though it’s pretty chilly outside, Cass had decided to just wear her sweater inside the art show. She had left her heavier jacket in his car, not wanting to carry it around the show for hours. He wishes she would’ve said something about it so she could’ve grabbed her jacket from his car instead of silently freezing throughout the night. 

He shrugs out of his blazer and drapes it around her shoulders. “One warm jacket for the tiny dancer. Need anything else, Miss?”

Cass smiles and slides her arms through the sleeves. She hugs herself close like she’s trying to absorb as much of his leftover body heat as possible. 

“I could go for some burgers and fries,” she says as she grabs him by the wrist and tugs him towards the exit. 

“Sounds like we’re singing the same tune,” Dick grins and pushes open the door for her to walk through first. “Let’s stop by my car and get your jacket first. We can find somewhere around here to walk to.”

Cass’s brow furrows. “Singing the... what?” She takes the lead and walks alongside the part of the sidewalk that’s not lit up by the street lights. Dick ignores the goosebumps that appear on his arms from the sudden breeze. He follows close behind her and subtly scans the parking lot where his car is parked for any potential danger. 

“It means we have the same idea. Like we’re on the same page.”

“Oh!” she says, and Dick quickly realizes that tipsy Cass has a volume control problem, which is a little ironic when he thinks about it. “Yes, we’re totally singing the same tune!” Dick laughs and holds his hand out for another high five. Cass eyes it for a second before smacking his hand even harder. 

“You thinking Bat Burger or somewhere else?”

Cass hums. “You ever been to the Bluehouse Bar?”

“No,” Dick says. “Have you?”

“Yeah, once. It was pretty good!”

Dick nods and tries not to look too judgy about her choice. The bar he used to bartend at in Bludhaven ruined his perception of bar food, but maybe this place in Gotham won’t be so bad. Plus, Cass is rarely wrong, and Dick’s willing to trust her opinion on it. 

“Is that where you want to go then?” Dick asks right as they make it to his car. 

“Yup, I feel like it’s the place to be tonight,” Cass says, and Dick unlocks the door for her. 

Dick laughs and lightly whacks her shoulder with the back of his hand. “Are you quoting Harry Potter at me? Is that what’s happening right now?”

“Maybe,” Cass says, voice muffled while she dips inside the car and fishes for her jacket in the back seat. 

Dick patiently waits as she switches out his suit jacket for her own jacket, and once she’s properly zipped herself up, she tosses his jacket back to him. Dick easily slides into it, feeling much better now that he’s not as cold. 

This time Cass is the one that offers her arm to him and smirks as she says, “One warm jacket for the rocket man. Need anything else, Sir?”

“Yeah,” Dick says and hooks his arm under hers. “Directions on how to get there.”

Cass tugs him forward and says, “Follow me.”

The walk to the bar only ends up being about two blocks away, which isn’t too bad. Dick’s nose is feeling a little frozen. He can tell by Cass’s pink cheeks that she’s feeling chilled as well, but they’ve both dealt with way worse conditions while on patrol to actually complain about it. 

Dick can tell why this place is called the Bluehouse Bar as soon as they step inside. The whole place is lit up by blue lights that reflect off the black chairs and tabletops. Even the white napkins and plates on the tables look like they’re glowing with a blue tint. 

The lights combined with the loud music and chatter makes everything a little disorienting. Dick’s still trying to get his eyes to adjust to the room when Cass suddenly grips his shoulder and leans close to his ear and says, “Look, it’s Jason!” 

Dick whips his head around to where Cass is staring, and sure enough, Jason’s sitting at a table of four by himself, browsing through the menu in his hands. There’s an empty glass of beer in front of him that suggests he’s been here for a while. The Gotham Knights are playing ball on one of the TVs, and Dick has a suspicion that Jason probably came here to watch the game before patrol. 

Jason’s wearing his cargo pants and boots. His signature leather jacket is zipped up all the way up to cover the bat emblem on his chest. Dick imagines Jason’s motorcycle is probably parked nearby and has the rest of his Red Hood gear in it.

Cass seems a little tense next to him, and Dick knows it’s because she really doesn’t like Jason that much. They’ve never gotten along for obvious reasons, and Cass only tolerates him when she has to. Dick can hardly remember them even having a conversation beyond “Can you pass the salt?” when they’re all eating breakfast together at the manor once a week. 

He’s just about to ask Cass if she wants to go when Jason suddenly looks up and stares right at them. A look of surprise flashes across Jason’s face, and he blinks a few times as if making sure that Dick and Cass are the real deal.  

Dick waves without really thinking about it, and Jason responds by motioning for them to come sit at his table. 

Cass’s eyes widen slightly like she wants to do anything but that, and Dick flashes her an apologetic look before gently placing his hand on her back and steering her towards Jason’s table. It’s not like they can just ignore Jason and expect him not to take offense to it. Dick’s not willing to make weekly breakfast more awkward than it already is. 

“Hey Jay,” Dick says once he’s close enough to the table. He holds his hand up expectantly. Jason eyes it like it’s a rat on fire before he slowly high fives Dick back. 

“Hey,” Jason says, and his eyes jump from Cass’s dress to Dick’s suit. “Where the hell did you two just come from?”

Dick lets Cass have the seat between himself and Jason so that she can watch the door more easily, and he takes the seat across from Jason that puts his own back against the door. 

“Went to an art show for B and bought some new paintings for the children’s hospital,” Dick says, snagging the menu from Jason and putting it on the table between him and Cass so they can figure out what they want to eat. 

“I guess my invite got lost in the mail as per usual,” Jason says. 

“You wouldn’t have gone anyway,” Cass says, and Jason recoils at her loud tone.  

“Still, I’d like to be asked,” Jason huffs, eyeing Cass warily. 

“Will you guys eat the mozzarella sticks if I get them as an appetizer?” Dick asks. The picture of the gooey cheese sticks on the menu makes Dick’s mouth water, and while he’s definitely going to get a burger, he thinks he can make enough room in his stomach for a few mozzarella sticks.

Cass signs “yes” with her fist at the same time that Jason says, “Fuck yeah I will as long as you’re paying.”

“If I’m paying then I get first dibs,” Dick declares.

“Fine.” Jason rolls his eyes and slumps in his seat. “You two better be ready to order as soon as the waitress gets back. She doesn’t come around much.”

“You’re telling me,” Dick says while enviously eyeing the waiter who’s taking people’s orders at the table across from theirs. 

All of a sudden, Dick feels a finger tapping against his shoulder. He tenses and turns in his seat. A young looking woman with blonde hair is standing behind him. The silver bangles around her wrist jingle as she nervously pushes her long hair out of her face. Dick can see that she’s looking back and forth between him and Cass. 

“Hi! Sorry for interrupting!” she says. “But are you Dick Wayne and Cassandra Wayne?”

Jason snorts so loud that Dick’s surprised he doesn’t give himself an aneurysm. 

“Dick Wayne,” Jason wheezes quietly, and the girl blushes furiously as if realizing her mistake. 

“Don’t mind him,” Dick says. He places his hand on the girl’s shoulder and gives it a little squeeze to soothe her embarrassment. “Trust me, I’ve been called worse,” he smiles. She blushes again for a whole different reason this time. Dick ignores it and eyes her phone in her hand. “Did you want a picture?” 

“Oh my god, yeah, if you wouldn’t mind that would be great!” 

“Sure thing,” Dick says, taking her phone from her. “What’s your name?” 

“Brooke,” the girl says.

“Hi, Brooke! I love your dress,” Cass says in that cool way of hers, and Brooke stutters out her thanks. 

“Don’t forget to turn on the flash,” Dick says as he tosses the phone to Jason, who catches it with a squawk. 

Dick drapes his arm around Brooke’s shoulders while Cass wraps her arm around Brooke’s waist. They all smile, and Jason begrudgingly takes a few pictures of them. Dick’s pretty sure he hears Jason making a comment under his breath about being happy he’s considered dead to the world so he doesn’t have to go through this shit, and then the pictures are done. 

Jason hands the phone back over and Brooke thanks him. Dick expects her to go back to her table, but instead, she asks, “Hey, would you guys want to be in my TikTok?”

“What’s TikTok?” Cass signs to Jason. 

Jason starts to explain it to her in ASL, clearly leaving Dick to deal with Brooke. 

“Sorry, we’re not allowed to,” Dick lies. “I hope you understand.”

“Oh totally, yeah,” Brooke says with a nod of her head. She looks a little confused about why they’re apparently not allowed to do TikToks, but she doesn’t question it. “No worries! Just thought I’d ask!” She smiles and Dick smiles back at her. “Thanks for the pictures! I love you guys!”

“No problem,” Dick says, holding his hand up to her. Brooke high fives him back, her touch gentle like she’s scared of hurting him. “Bye!”

Brooke waves to them all and then finally leaves their table. As soon as she’s out of earshot, Jason crosses his arms over his chest and says, “What’s up with kids and TikTok these days? Do you know how many people have cosplayed as me and made me do dumb shit like the renegade dance? Or worse... the whip! The whip, Dick! The whip!”

“Poor you,” Dick laughs. “Forced to do trendy dances that sully your reputation.” 

“Shut up,” Jason huffs. “Pretty sure I saw one of Nightwing doing the WAP challenge.” 

Dick raises a brow and says, “I have no idea what that means.”

He sees Cass perk up out of the corner of his eye and realizes why as soon as he sees a waitress coming towards them. 

“Finally,” Cass mutters.

Dick grabs her hand excitedly and shakes it back and forth. 

“Mozzarella sticks here we come!”

[yellowmagicalgirl]

no good to dwell on dreams (even if i walked with you once upon one)

At the top of a wooden tower, Krel finds a boy cursed to sleep for 900 years until he receives true love's kiss.

At the top of a wooden tower, Douxie is finally awoken from his cursed sleep. Nothing is as he had expected it to be.

Thank you to the Sleepless Domain Discord user known as 10zin for helping me out when grammar was an issue for me. This fic is post-3Below AU where Wizards didn't happen, and also a Sleeping Beauty AU.

I'm still on hiatus due to finals, but I hope people enjoy this!

AO3

FFN

"I wonder what creepy creepers are in this creepy castle?" Steve asked.

"Really, it's just a tower," Toby said, swinging his warhammer around for light. The three of them had been excited to have a peaceful winter break. No school aside from the homework that Miss Janeth and Señor Uhl had assigned, and ever since Krel and Aja had defeated Morando last summer, the only fights there had been were with the occasional goblin or gnome. And, of course, sparring sessions that Krel tried to ditch as often as possible.

But then the tower had shown up, which meant that Toby and Steve had decided to drag Krel through the woods near Arcadia Oaks. He should have just stayed home, because at least there wouldn't be so many trees. Just the loneliness that had settled into every corner when Mother died and Aja and Varvatos had left.

The tower was made of wood. Dead trees, because of klebbing course it had to be. It looked a lot taller in person than it did from far away. A cool mist surrounded it. The door was made of wood as well, with a few runes carved into it.

Toby frowned. "That's not Trollish or Akiridion."

"Maybe we should come back with Claire, since she's trying to learn to decipher other magical languages?" Krel asked. Really, they should've just waited for Claire and Jim to heal from their common cold before investigating the tower.

"Uh, no. She and Jim will act all smug and superior because we needed their help," Steve said.

"They won't be... okay, they might be annoyed because how dare we go off on our own and pull a stunt when those two have nearly killed themselves doing the same thing, but! They won't be smug. Grumpy, sure. Jumpy, yes in Claire's case. But not smug. I'll lead, but have your axe and serrator out," Toby instructed. He pushed on the door, but it didn't give.

"Oh, well, I guess we should go home now," Krel said.

"Not getting out of this that easy," Steve said, punching Krel in the shoulder with enough force that Krel was glad he was in his Akiridion form. Otherwise, there was a good chance that Steve would've knocked him over.

Toby took a step back, then slammed his warhammer into the door. It still didn't give way.

Krel's curiosity won over the fact that he should be trying to be the voice of reason for his friends. He pushed past Steve and Toby. He then reached up to trace the runes. Perhaps there was some sort of mechanism to them.

They lit up green under his touch. Krel heard Toby make a nervous sound behind him as the rest of the door glowed green before turning to mist.

Steve coughed. "Well, since the castle-"

 "-tower," Toby interrupted.

"Since it likes you," Steve continued, "I guess you're leading the way." Krel groaned and walked into the tower.

The three of them made their way up the spiral staircase. Every several feet, a sconce in the wall lit up with green light. Eventually, they reached a second door at the top of the stairs. Krel once more traced over the ruins engraved in the door, which then disappeared into the same mist.

The room at the top of the tower was empty aside from a stone slab in the center of the room. On top of it lay a boy. He looked so still; so peaceful. He was human, with dark hair tied into a bun and bangs flowing down either side of his face. His arms were crossed over his chest. He looked to be at most a year older than Steve, Toby, and Krel.

"Is this... a tomb?" Toby asked as the three of them approached the boy.

"I don't think so," Steve said as Krel leaned over the boy, who showed no signs of breathing. "In all the video games I've played, the tomb is under the castle-"

"-I keep on telling you Steve, this is a tower!"

"The tomb is under the castle," Steve continued despite Toby's interruption. "Not at the top of it. Unless, I don't know, maybe some cultures don't have their tombs under the castles? Krel, how do Akiridions do it?"

Krel was about to retort that it didn't matter how Akiridions dealt with their dead, because this boy wasn't Akiridion. However, Steve nudged Krel forcefully enough that he lurched forward and his lips brushed against the boy's. They were soft, and just warm enough that despite being in his Akiridion form Krel could feel the temperature difference.

Krel stood up, about to turn and yell at Steve for pushing him. But then, the boy's eyes fluttered open.

Toby screamed.

The boy screamed, sitting up and scrambling away from the three of them.

Steve and Krel screamed.

The boy caught his breath and looked between the three of them. He drew his knees up to his chest as he   and Krel waited for Toby and Steve to stop screaming. He licked his lips and swallowed before speaking. "Which one of you kissed me?"

Steve pointed at Krel. The boy stared at Krel with an odd expression.

"I only did so because I was shoved," Krel said, rolling his eyes. Really, if the boy wanted an apology for having been unexpectedly kissed while he was asleep, then Steve should be the one apologizing.

Slowly, a shy smile formed on the boy's face. "I'll admit, I had thought that my true love would've been a human or another wizard, not... no matter what, it's good to meet you. I'm Douxie."

Out of the corners of his eyes, Krel could see his friends trying and mostly failing to not laugh at the entire situation with Douxie. This wasn't funny, and his friends weren't helpful at all. Maybe this was a sign that they should've waited for Jim and Claire, who would certainly... no. They'd probably also be trying to stifle laughter. Krel was so thankful that Aja wasn't here, because she'd definitely be laughing.

"I... no," Krel said. "Why the kleb do you think I'm your 'true love' or whatever?"

Douxie's face fell before raised an eyebrow. "I was cursed, so that I would sleep for 900 years, and then this tower would appear in close vicinity to my true love, who would wake me with a kiss. Didn't you read the runes the Master Merlin inscribed on the door? You would've triggered their magic."

Krel bristled with frustration. "Well, clearly this 'Master' didn't account for the possibility of my technology interfacing with the tower."

Douxie flinched, frowning and crossing his arms across his chest.

"Wait, by Merlin, you wouldn't happen to mean a crusty old wizard who likes the color green and uses the Staff of Avalon, would you?"

"I wouldn't call him crusty..." Douxie said. One of the corners of his mouth twitched like he was trying to fight off a smile.

"Come on," Toby said. "My friends - other friends, not these two - and I have way too much experience cleaning up Merlin's messes."

The four of them exited the tower and watched it turn to mist behind them. Douxie frowned and was silent as they made their way to Jim's house.

"So," Jim said, glancing over at Douxie. Douxie was seated on the couch, sipping at a glass of water. He had tucked himself into a corner, arm not holding the glass wrapped around himself. He looked around slowly with a dazed and confused expression. "You decided to, instead of waiting for backup, go investigate the tower on your own. And then you woke up yet another ancient wizard."

"I mean," Toby replied, "at least this one doesn't seem to be genocidal or power hungry." Claire flinched.

"Technically Krel woke him up!" Steve said. Krel scowled. He only woke Douxie up because Steve pushed him. For all they knew, carrying him out of the tower would have worked just as well. Or splashing him with water or shaking him.

"Why were you asleep and trapped in the tower, Douxie?" Douxie jumped upon hearing Jim say his name.

"The curse was intended for our king, to make him sleep for 900 years, but his sister pushed him out of the way. It was because the curse wasn't originally meant for her that I was able to sacrifice myself for her," Douxie said. Very pointedly, he looked away from Krel. "I... there was an old wooden tower on the edge of Camelot. It had fallen into disrepair, so Master Merlin was able to enchant it to protect me, and so... the curse was supposed to only be breakable by true love's kiss, but I guess since Morgana took on the curse instead there were other ways to wake me up."

"Wait." Claire sat up straight, muscles tensing like she was preparing for a fight. "By Morgana, you wouldn't mean a witch 'has many names' and was the apprentice to Merlin?"

"I have never heard her claim to have many names," Douxie said, "but you do remarkably well at mimicking her voice. And yes, but she finished her apprenticeship years before I met her. How do you know her?"

"Oh, let me count the fucking ways." Claire sneered. "Let's see, in reverse chronological order, there's the time she tried to kill all life on Earth-"

"She wouldn't do that!" Douxie's hands shook before he balled them into fists.

"Oh, she definitely did. She did that and more."

"No, I know  her. You must be mistaken," Douxie said quickly, like he had very little air and couldn't say much before gasping again.

"You knew her," Claire said. Pinpricks of purple invaded her eyes, and her voice raised a little in volume with each word. "But I know what she became after you fell asleep. You should have just let her keep the curse."

Douxie began to hyperventilate, shaking his head. Krel just barely saw the way tears and pinpricks of blue formed in his eyes as he reached for his bracer before a cloud of pale blue smoke enveloped the room. The glass fell to the floor, and the sound of the door opening could be heard.

Douxie was gone when the smoke cleared, and there was no sign of where he could be.

"I... fuck," Claire said. Her hands shook, and she kept glancing down at them and around the room. Her eyes were wide and her voice had taken on a slightly higher pitch than normal. "I didn't mean to- I just- I'll go after him. Apologize."

"No," Toby said. "Claire, we all know you didn't mean to hurt Douxie, but we also all know that if you even just start sneezing because of dust then your PTSD starts to act up more. That argument you just had about Morgana isn't helping things. You're on the edge of a panic attack, and one or both of you will get hurt if you go after him."

"I'll go after him," Krel said. "What's the phrase... you wake it, you pay the consequences for it?"

"Eh... sort of, not really," Jim said. "It's you break it, you bought it."

"You break his heart upon waking him up, you're responsible?" Steve said. "But it's probably best if we split up to look for him before he gets himself hit by a car or anything."

Naturally, Douxie had run off into the trees near Jim's house. Given his path, it seemed like he had tried to find his way back to the tower, but he had probably given up when Krel found him. He was casting magic from his bracer and sitting on a tree stump. Half-dried tears reflected the blue light of his magic.

Krel bit his lip, recalling the way that Douxie's had felt against his. The doors of the tower had given way for him. As much as he wanted to deny it and blame Steve, it was Krel's fault he was stuck in a strange world with no one.

Krel inhaled sharply as it finally hit him why Douxie had been so pleased that Krel was his supposed True Love. It wasn't just because Krel broke the curse keeping him asleep, or else he wouldn't have insisted on it so much. He probably would've been thankful either way.

It was because, even if everyone else he ever knew was dead or evil in their old age, at least Douxie would have had someone guaranteed to care about him. It was the one thing he could hope for, and Krel had smashed that hope and left him all alone.

"I know this is probably overwhelming for you," Krel said, slowly approaching Douxie. Douxie didn't look up at him. "I'm not from Earth, so it was overwhelming for me as well, and I at least had my sister and our bodyguard. I'm sorry I'm not who you hoped I would be."

"It's not your fault," Douxie mumbled. "Is it true? That because I sacrificed myself, it's my fault that Morgana did so many horrible things?"

"No. You couldn't have known what she would do. Not even Claire believes that, and if she had been the one to find you I'm sure she'd be trying to apologize. But, out of all my friends, Morgana hurt Claire the most badly, so she overreacted. But no one blames you." Krel pointed at Douxie's bracer. "How does that work?"

Douxie smiled, probably thankful for a change in subject. He could talk about his ancient wizard technology instead of his feelings. "It's sort of like a portable spellbook. It helps me control my magic, and it's also easier to remember the components needed for spells like this. I'm currently trying to cast a spell that will help me find my familiar."

Douxie's smile slid off of his face. "He's a dragon, and dragons live for a long time. If he didn't, then I would have run away from Camelot and never would have sacrificed myself for her. But, what if he's changed like Morgana did, or gotten another wizard after all this time? Or what if he died of non-natural causes?"

"We can try to help you find him. Him and Merlin." Besides, everyone had been trying to find Merlin anyways, after the geezer had skipped out on the trolls by proclaiming that he had things to do.

"Thank you. Though, I'm scared to find either of them."

"Though, in the mean time, you'll need a place to stay. My sister doesn't live at home anymore, so I have a spare room if you want it."

"I'd like that; thank you."

There was no foretold true love waiting for Douxie, but that didn't mean he had to be alone. And neither did Krel.

A/N: I'm going to leave it up to the reader as to whether or not Krel actually is Douxie's fated true love and is just in denial about it.

[youarejesting]

Limited Edition.8 Help

[FULL MASTERLIST] [Limited Edition Master list]

Beta: N/A Rating: All audiences Genre: Fantasy, Comedy, Fluffy Fluff, Adventure. Pairing: Bts x Friend!Reader Words: 1.5K

Summary: It is your first time buying proper merchandise, there are new chibi figurines and the first person to order will recieve a limited edition set. But what happens when BTS have gone missing without a trace and a few days later you receive your package. The box says congratulations, you open to find your limited edition figures, they look so lifelike. OH WAIT! it’s cause they are.

The factory looked just like that. A factory. There wasn’t any immediate spooky nature to the building which made you question why you were suspicious about the place. But then you remembered the articles and the fact the boys’ last memories lead you right here. They all seem to be gritting their teeth and you wonder if it is a suppressed memory or if they have some sort of pent up anger towards the factory.

You pressed on following adora, who led you through the corridors and showed you how everything was made, you knew there was something else. There had to be a secret lair of dungeon as fairytale as that sounded but grown men had been turned into tiny figurine sized humans. Anything could be possible.

When you had the chance you feigned needing to use the bathroom and tried to snoop around there was nothing out of the ordinary, staff rooms, offices different, different rooms used for product testing. 

You finally reached the bathroom and leaving the boys in your handbag outside the door, you relieved your aching bladder before washing your hands. Turning to the hand dryer you were looking at a fire exit sign with a map of the building when you saw something on the map that wasn’t in the building.

There was a staircase just beside the storage room but from what you saw there was no room on the other side of the wall. Heading back through the building and into the storage room you began tapping the wall and moving shelves trying to find the secret lever or button that you see on movies. Leaning back against the wall with a sigh, it fell open and you almost shrieked but held it in.

What was this place? You were mildly concerned by the darkness on the other side but decided to move in the dark as much as it would hinder your vision, you were more likely to go unnoticed as well. If you went about with a torch that was like a beacon to your presence. 

You were afraid of the dark greatly and tried to keep a level head as you moved about the room you soon determined there was no one downstairs with you. You found a switch and the place lit up. A split second of panic coursed through you at possibly being court but alas your suspicions were confirmed the place was empty.

Taking the boys out you turned to the machine, what do you do? You looked at all the dials and went to a computer and found a video log where the boys were lured into the machine by Mr Kang. You saw the dials and the scientist explaining to the curious RM how to use the machine and they were told it was a body scan for a new realistic figurine. But they themselves had ended up being the figurines.

“So I just hit the button again?”

“No that will make us even smaller” Namjoon said “We have to set it back the equal amount”

“Okay, what is the opposite of dial minus ten” you said 

“Well considering we are a tenth of our size we would have to add ten?” Namjoon tried to think and you gave it a go turning the dial to zero and nothing happened.

“Why didn’t it work?”

“You have to add Ten we added nothing so go dial plus ten and then that should be ten times our heights now so it should be our correct heights” Namjoon determined

“Wait! would we maybe be able to go to eleven?” Jimin asked hopeful and you laughed “Jimin you are perfect the way you are” You reassured him trying to calm him down, you knelt in front of the platform and smiled as they all ran over Seokjin held out his fist and you bumped your fist with his in a kind of farewell gesture.

They were all nervous and you pressed the button closing your eyes to the bright light and heard a collection of thuds and when you looked over there they were lying on the ground groaning in pain.

“We did it?’ You screamed running over as they all sat up and you launched yourself to hug them all and they hugged back but something about them being life sized made you blush and pull away.

Suddenly nervous being around the real life Bangtan boys made it hard to speak and you thought perhaps it was for the best they were such amazing guys and you were just your average fan.

“Well I am glad you are all safe. Let me get you back to Adora” You breathed taking a few steps around them and helping them up. “Come on, like I promised I will get you back?”

You hadn’t expected it to be so easy, but when you walked back to where you had left adora outside the staff room. She was almost reduced to tears, hugging each boy and asking where they had been and why.

In the middle of the reunion, Adora’s phone rang.

“Adora, it is Pddog, You have to come back Mr. Kang is trying to get the boys removed from the company and their assets liquidated”

“I am with the boys now, we will be there soon, you need to stall them, don’t let Bang Si-hyuk sign the contract” Adora said hanging up

The group dragged you with them into the car and you all headed across Seoul. The city was so amazing but you knew you weren’t going to make it. You told Adora to call Pdogg and when he answered you took the phone.

“Listen carefully, if we aren’t there in time, eat the contract, and I am serious, EAT THE CONTRACT” You said, “If it was you I would do it for you, so you do it for them. When you finally arrived you all walked in and they brought you past security and up to an elevator. You felt absolutely tiny compared to the boys now. 

They were no longer cute at least not in this moment they looked scary as hell. Each with a stern face ready to go after the man who tried and is continuing to try and ruin them.

Walking out you reached the office and you froze and they turned “Uh… I should wait here, super stars” you said adding the endearing title and a small shy smile.

“Hey, none of that, get in here?” Seokjin and Namjoon grabbed your arms and dragged you inside. “You didn’t feed us for a week to have you sit out on this. We need you to support our story”

Walking into the room you saw Pdogg getting scolded with a wad of paper in his mouth. Everyone turned towards the door at the sound of the intrusion only to see the Bangtan Boys in the flesh. Their eyes focused on where they were standing in the middle of the room. You were thankful you were a nobody and they could easily overlook your presence. But you were still able to see the pure horror on Mr. Kang’s face. 

Taking your phone you screenshared with Yoongi’s help onto the television and the video played of Mr Kang shrinking and shipping the boys off. You then showed videos of the boys being small and living with you making music videos and funny mukbangs and such.

As Mr. Kang was fried and escorted from the building by the police for kidnapping and human trafficking the boys. You were offered a seat, by the man himself Bang Si-Hyuk. 

“You have saved the boys, their careers, and even the company. I don’t know how to repay you enough.” He said

“What about a job as our house keeper she took care of us, even when we treated her badly” Seokjin said  

“No really, I have done my part. I don’t think I am needed anymore” you grinned softly turning to leave.

“Let me walk you out” Bang Si-byul walked you to the elevator and stopped it half way and took your hands. “I truly thank you and I know the boys thank you too. They truly love this job and they would be devastated if anything happened that stopped them making music.”

“I want to offer you a job?” He said “one that is entirely secret and will pay you well”

“What is it sir?”

“Those videos you showed us, the boys seemed happier and more carefree then I had seen in a long time. I would like to hire you, to help them feel that happy all the time”

“I can’t do that, but what I will do is if ever they are upset they can call me.”

“If they are feeling down, what if we give you an all expenses paid trip to visit them for a week?”

“Deal?” You smile, shaking hands. 

You finally made it to the ground floor to see the boys panting facing the exit. “We must have missed her”

“Missed who?”

They turned and engulfed you in a hug.

Tags: @victory0461​ @gqmf-bangtanmama @simplymemyself 

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[just-call-me-johnny-archive]

@vindication-thy-name-is-dwight

It’s the night of the first big Q + A, and already the room is filling with guests, all seated at their assigned tables with numbered paddles, not much unlike the ones used for auctions. It would make things go a lot smoother than without. It’s less than an hour from start time and most of the attendants are already in the back, getting ready or just shaking out last-minute nerves. It is rather new for the company to be so public.

The hallways are empty save for some guides to make sure that all guests make their way to the event room (and don’t have the opportunity to stray or sneak around). The hangar has long been closed off for any more arrivals. The staff is just about done taking inventory of every last one of the ships and vehicles. After they finish the last few rows, they block off the entrance to the hangar, standing in front of the locked door as the last few stragglers make their way to the Q+A room.

When all has been silent for more than two minutes, Johnny cautions rising from his lowered seat in his own ship. He can’t believe that Senor Diablo actually kept his word; he supposes he shouldn’t be too surprised; the Devil would know better that he’d never hear the end of it if he did cross Johnny in that way.

Johnny flips on the light in the ship, looking over the controls and taking it all in. He turns on the navigation screen and finds that his destinations are already pre-loaded. He frowns when he thinks about the Devil reading his thoughts for the coordinates, but he’s truthfully glad. Less to worry about so he can leave already.

He pauses, now thinking about his last interaction with Dwight. Telling him he’d see him later. Knowing that he would more than likely not- that it would be a while until they’d see each other again. But Johnny has already made up his mind; he won’t let Vargas continue to control their lives like this. He’s going to finish this and then he can go home.

Johnny boots up the ship and light floods across the considerable isle. It’s a rather large cruiser- has enough room for a small crew. He can’t imagine why Senor Diablo would give him such a large one. Perhaps to let the loneliness sink in ever deeper as he travels. Once the lights pop on in the main cabin, Johnny jumps and scrambles back into the corner of his seat, gasping.

There was a very pale, skinny, and well-dressed man in the ship with him and it was not Dwight Dwicky.

The stranger grabs Johnny by the neck and throws him down onto the ground, pinning him there. “Remember me?”

Johnny hisses at the explosion of black stars as his head makes an impact on the floor. He grips the one hand holding him down with both of his own, yanking and scratching. He struggles to get a good look at his assailant before his torso is stomped on. He coughs up some blood and refocuses his hold on the boot planted on top of his organs.

“Well, I guess it has been a while, hasn’t it?” The other man leans down, no longer choking Johnny, now grabbing the smaller man by the front of his shirt. He reels back his fist and lands a punch right onto the nose as he ends his question.

“But it does make me sad that you’ve forgotten all about me.”

Johnny holds his face as he reaches for a knife with his other hand until his arm is painfully twisted behind his back and the other is taken hostage as well. His attacker gets right into his face with a sadistic, glee-filled grin as he yanks Johnny’s face up by his hair.

“After all, we are brothers of the mind.”

Recognition hits Johnny all at once and he utters a vengeful snarl. “Why am I not surprised that I’d eventually see your ugly mug again.” He spits in the other’s face. “And once more, we are not brothers of any kind. I could have sworn my first lesson would have sufficed for you, but clearly I am mistaken.”

“Oh shut the fuck up, bitch,” Jimmy says, shoving a gag into Johnny’s mouth and duct-taping it into place. “Could never forget that you talk too damn much.”

“Can’t let you ruin the surprise, so I’ll have to let you sit there nice and comfy for the time being. Your prince charming should be coming around any time soon and the real fun will begin.”

Johnny fumes silently under the heat of the tape and the material jammed in his mouth. He attempts to wriggle his fingers and then arms and finds that the most he can do is maneuver his fingers and not much else. His knives are all in rather hard-to-reach places with his hands tied like this. He also realizes that sometime during the assault, Jimmy had tied his legs together as well. Nothing was budging.

He glares at his captor, looking around for another way to possibly signal for help- or at least to warn his partner and whoever else would come looking. Besides- what had he meant by Dwight coming? What reason would his partner have to believe that he’s in the hangar?

Johnny tries to focus on his ice powers to see if he could freeze the rope and snap it like a toothpick, but to his shock, the material seems to be unaffected.

“You don’t think that after all this time I’ve spent watching you, I didn’t take into account that you’re some type of Elsa bitch now? Let me commend you; your lessons were all well-learned and gave me much to think about while I was planning exactly what to do to you. You’re not getting out of this that easily.”

"Now just sit there and relax. Help is on the way."

[florbexter]

Hi, I was wondering if you could write Tharafrong fake dating.

Hey there, wonder no more, here is your TharaFrong Fake Dating story :D Thank you so much for your prompt ^^

it’s real if you close your eyes and pretend | [AO3 Link]

“I really don’t understand why it has to be now of all times.”

Frong turned around slowly, the key to his office already in the lock, and tried to smile his politest smile. It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t easy because Dr Thara was his self-appointed nemesis and he wanted to strangle him on the best of days.

“It has to be now because up until now you have successfully avoided me.”

He saw out of the corner of his eyes how Thara made a “Who? Me?” gesture while having that damn kind smile on his face that drove Frong wild. Sometimes he wished Thara would frown at him angrily or snap some impatient words just to have the feeling he was more than just a colleague for Thara. That he evoked more in Thara than just mild annoyance.

The noise from the party flowed through the corridors of the administration building and as much as Frong liked to mingle he already planned to make up an excuse to go home after he had made Thara sign those damn papers. His team had been responsible for planning the opening ceremony of the new hospital wing, but he hadn’t been involved much despite nodding while his colleagues had presented their plans in their weekly meetings.

“Here and here,” he said and pushed the clip board against Thara’s chest. Thara’s eyes strayed from his bookshelves over the amount of paperwork on his desk towards the huge bouquet his mum had brought him just yesterday and Frong took the liberty and poked him with the pen.

“Oh yes, here?”

“And here,” Frong added because it would be in typical Thara’s fashion to just sign once and then Frong had to run after him again. After the last stroke he quickly took the documents and put them in a folder on his desk.

“Thank you!”, he said, the smile etched painfully on his face and he ushered Thara out of his office because maybe it was just an office but Thara took up too much space, not only in Frong’s head, and Frong didn’t need to come back on the next day and imagine to smell Thara’s aftershave because he had lingered too long.

Nemesis. He had to concentrate on Thara making his life harder, determined to be the most obnoxious doctor Frong had to work with in his career in hospital management.

Nemesis. As much as he wanted to kiss Thara he wanted to punch him just as much. So. He straightened up his tie and wanted to tell Thara that he would go to the toilet to avoid having to go back to the party with him but got pushed back against the wall as they heard a group of people laughing and talking coming their way.

“No! I tell you they disappeared down this corridor.”

Frong looked at the arm across his chest and then frowned at Thara who, with no explanation whatsoever, shuffled closer to the end of the hallway to peek around the corner.

“How old are the rumours of them dating anyway? No one ever caught them. They don’t have the same address. I checked with Khun Chaow in HR.”

“You don’t need to live together to date!”

“But they bicker all the time.”

“Yes, because they’re in love. Dr Preeda already thought about giving Dr Thara the rooms in the new wing so they would be closer together. Maybe then someone will finally get the proof of them dating.”

Before Frong could fully comprehend the horror of the hospital thinking him and Thara dating for what seemed like a long time a hand fisted in his white button-down and he had to swat at Thara’s arm to get it away from his clothes.

“What are you doing?”, he hissed and finally Thara looked at him but the shine in his eyes was disconcerting. 

“The new wing has the view towards the park,” he said and Frong got a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“I know,” he answered because the new wing was an addition to the administration building and their look over the park had been overshadowed by the construction noise for the last year.

“A stress-free atmosphere for my patients, with the park and0 the parking lot nearby so they don’t need to walk that far.”

Frong rolled his eyes. Why was Thara always showing that he was a compassionate doctor at the worst possible moment? The new wing was perfect for Thara’s patients who had to process that they needed brain surgery or who came back for check-up’s nervous about their results.

“You really think they will give the new wing to Dr Thara just because he might be dating P’Frong?”

The voices were close now, they had to stand in the next hallway and Thara’s hand was fisting the fabric of Frong’s jacket and why would that crazy idea forming in Frong’s head hurt any less than his first day at the hospital and Thara smiling at him, congratulating him and telling him that he’s happy to have his ‘Nong’ working with him?

“We’re bro’s, right?”, he had said and had dared to pat Frong on the back as if he was some kind of father figure for him. Thara would never see more in him than a friend of his younger cousin Frong had realized that day.

“Fine,” Frong said and he said it more to himself than anyone else and he ignored Thara’s “What?” and just said “Watch out,” before he pushed Thara slightly forward so that they stumbled slightly into the other hallway directly in front of the group of hospital staff gossiping about them.

Frong knew how appearance mattered. The truth was irrelevant when Frong’s shirt was crumpled up as if someone had pulled him against them for a deep kiss, when Thara’s hand was still on his jacket and he had a dazed look on his face because the thought about the new wing being his had overwhelmed him.

Frong cleared his throat, as if embarrassed and pushed his hands through his hair.

“Sawasdee khrap,” Frong said and did a Wai while he deliberately made a step away from Thara and everyone’s eyes latched onto Thara’s hand slowly parting from Frong’s jacket. Some did a Wai back while some just continued to stare at them.

“We should go back to the party,” Frong said with an apologizing glance to the group and put his hand on the small of Thara’s back to move him forward. There was an audible gasp from their audience and maybe they would have questioned their charade with Thara mumbling “What?” a couple of times but their attention was not on Thara’s face. It was actually a nice change of paths because more often than not it was Frong who was left speechless by Thara. Frong pushed Thara along until a few more hallways were between them and their colleagues.

“What happened?”, Thara asked.

“I just got you the new wing. They will tell Dr Preeda, who will want to see for themself but since we won’t confirm anything, they’re going to give you the rooms.”

“Confirm what?”

Frong rolled his eyes and buttoned his jacket up. The party was only one door away and he needed to say his goodbyes and go home to lay in bed and bemoan his poor life choices.

“Fake Dating, Phi, it’s a thing.”

+++

“It’s a food delivery. Love food delivery. Food, delivered with love.”

Frong had told himself that he wouldn’t look up. He had stuff to do and no time to play Thara’s daily game of ‘embarrassing Frong as much as possible’. As he heard the giggle outside, who could be anyone from his assistant to his supervisor – because Thara had that effect on people -, he couldn’t suppress his annoyance anymore and threw Thara a look who quickly closed the door behind him. Maybe he thought it would ruin their fake dating ruse when people saw that Frong glared daggers at him.

“I really brought you food,” he said after Frong just looked at him for a while and put a container on Frong’s desk atop some important documents.

“Thank you,” Frong said because his mum didn’t raise an unpolite man and he really was hungry.

“How is the move going?” Thara interpreted his question as a request to make himself comfortable in Frong’s office and he immediately flopped down on a chair and unpacked the sandwiches he brought.

“At this moment they are drilling big screws into the floor to secure the MRI and then no one can take the rooms away from me anymore,” Thara said and the faraway look of utter bliss on his face made Frong sigh.

“Congratulations.”

Thara stretched out his legs and took a huge bite from his sandwich.

“Thank you. What are you doing there?”

“Making it appear as if we have the money to buy a new autoclave for the lab.”

“We don’t have the money for that?”

Frong looked up and maybe he was now the one with a weird shine in his eyes because Thara raised an eyebrow at him.

“We will have the money for it,” Frong said because he refused to let the years studying boring business administration lectures be for nothing.

“Shouldn’t the lab chef make the proposal for new equipment?”

“I’m better at it,” Frong said and it wasn’t even bragging. He wasn’t going to let something like wording get in the way of the hospital getting the best machines possible. But he knew, that at this very moment, he was writing utter garbage in the proposal because Thara distracted him. The whole fake dating thing distracted him more than he thought it would. Which was just another proof that he needed to run his ideas by his brothers before he made decisions. They were really good at frowning at him and shaking their heads pitifully.

He leaned back with a sigh and took one of the sandwiches. Thara even thought about getting him some without tomatoes and he needed to stop this madness as soon as possible. It was disconcerting that he was getting warm feelings because of tomatoes.

“Do you want to fake a messy break-up or a quiet one?”, he asked and for whatever reason, his heart decided to pound quicker and he hated himself for that. It wasn’t like they had gone the full yard with this whole fake relationship. They never had met outside of the hospital for fake dates or had told their families about this. All Thara did was bringing him food while smiling brightly at everyone he encountered before he made a huge announcement to enter Frong’s office. Like the nuisance he was.

Thara stared at him now, a bit of lettuce hanging out of his mouth and Frong refused to be charmed.

“What do you mean?”, Thara asked.

“You said they aren’t able to take the new wing away from you now. We got what we wanted. We can stop this.”

“But I just bought the new terrarium.”

“The… what?”

Thara made a hand gesture that must mean something but Frong had no idea what.

“The new terrarium, for Cupcake. I thought it would live up my office to have him there.”

Frong squinted at Thara and refused to succumb to the desire to swear at him but the ‘what the fuck is Cupcake!’ already burned on his tongue.

“Cupcake?”, he asked instead, and he really shouldn’t have because the rest of his lunch break was spent looking at pictures of a lizard.

He later realized that Thara had successfully deflected the topic and that he had no idea if they were going to ‘break up’ or not in the foreseeable future.

+++

“Please close your eyes for a moment.”

“It’s just a bump,” Frong grumbled but did as he was told. Thara in doctor-mode was strangely compelling, and it didn’t even hurt much when Thara carefully palpated the swelling on his forehead.

“It was quite a sight seeing Nurse Fiat carrying you here.”

Frong snorted. “He didn’t carry me.”

“He had you flung over his shoulders.”

Frong opened his eyes to glare at Thara but got hushed and closed his eyes again.

“Do you feel dizzy or disorientated?”

“I’m disorientated, yes.”

“Really?”

Frong snorted again. “I’m disorientated because I thought they would bring me to the emergency room and not to you.”

“I guess they think my loving care will be more efficient than what they’re doing in the ER.”

Did Thara sound smug? Frong hadn’t seen him for almost two weeks because he had gone back to his old habit of disappearing the moment Frong saw him. Frong had the feeling it was about the whole ‘lets-break-up-our-fake-relationship’ thing and he wondered why? Was there more Thara wanted out of their fake dating? Was there another wing he wanted for himself? Did he want to transform the whole hospital in a centrum for treating brain diseases?

“Just give me painkillers should I get a headache later,” he suggested and then frowned. Was Thara massaging his temples? What kind of medical examination was this?

“Let me get you something cold for your bump. As long as you’re not dizzy or feel like you need to throw up everything should be fine.”

Frong finally opened his eyes and tried not to be too obvious about his curiosity about Thara’s new office. It was significantly closer to Frong’s own office than his old one, which should make it easier to track him down for signatures, it was also a lot bigger than his old one, fresh jasmines in a colourful vase, and a huge terrarium stood at one wall. The home of Cupcake the lizard.

“Don’t startle, this is going to be cold.”

“I can hold it,” Frong said but his hand hovered uselessly in the air while Thara put is chair closer to Frong’s and gently pressed a cold pack on his forehead.

Thara’s gentleness was, as always, the thing that undid Frong. He had witnessed it from their first encounter - years ago - while Frong had still been in university and since then on frequent occasions in the hospital. The way he talked to his patients, how he brought them flowers just to cheer them up for a couple of minutes, the way he endured the cold of the ice pack himself to take the strain from Frong. You felt like you were important around Thara and it could get in the way of convincing yourself Dr Thara was the enemy.

Frong knew that Thara thought of him as a spoiled cat which just needed to be scratched behind the ears to make it purr, which fine, was mostly true, but it was better for Frong’s state of mind to push the frenemies agenda than giving in and let himself be petted. Because he had no idea, or rather knew, that Thara didn’t want him as his favourite house cat and now he needed to stop thinking in cat metaphors; maybe the door had hit his head a lot harder than he thought.

+++

“This is on so many levels unprofessional and childish,” Frong hissed and involuntarily made a step backwards and almost crashed into the shelves behind him. Thara surged forward to grab him by the shoulders and they stared at the package full of something on the highest shelf, hovering, quivering dangerously close at the edge of the shelf. Frong had phantom pain about the package hitting his head.

“Why are we hiding from my mum in a supply closet? What madness is this? Why are they even so many supply closets in this hospital?”

“You campaigned for more supply closets between the stations to shorten the ways and to have them individualized so supplies don’t go to waste.”

Frong stared at Thara in utter bafflement. That had been a rhetorical question for god’s sake!

“What are you talking about?”

“I read the protocols of the management meetings.”

“What?”

“I’m in the mailing list.”

Frong wasn’t sure if they had stumbled into an alternate universe when Thara had grabbed him after he had found him to tell him that his mum had been in his office to talk about their relationship. It felt like it.

His mum had been about to round the corner and for whatever reason Frong had decided to comply with Thara’s childish plan to hide from her. Now he had no idea where she was and if she would see them when they would come out of the closet – ha! – and he really didn’t need that kind of conversation.

He knew where the jasmines on Thara’s desk came from and he knew that his mum always visited Thara when she came by to bring him his own bouquet but they never talked about it and he feared that his mum knew why, because he hadn’t been able to shut up about Thara when he had been in university. Oh, the horror of mothers who knew too much about their kids.  

“I just… I didn’t want to lie to her, so I escaped,” Thara admitted and the closet didn’t have much space for two grown men to do much in terms of movement, but he was able to convey his embarrassment with a little shrug of his shoulders.

“My mum has three sons, we lied to her plenty of times, she would have forgiven you,” Frong mumbled. He edged closer to the door. Would he hear something? What if she knew they were in there and stood in front of the door?

“This is a mess,” he sighed and stumbled again, stumbled forward as something soft fell against his back and then sighed against Thara’s shoulder because of course, of course, this was going to happen. Thara’s hand hovered over his hips and he nevertheless felt the warmth of them and wasn’t it telling that Thara didn’t even want to touch him?

“You okay?”, Thara asked against his ear, soft and careful and Frong just nodded.

“These closets are health hazards,” Frong said and straightened up. This was stupid. He was almost thirty years old; he wasn’t going to hide from his mother just because he made a dumb decision.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said, “We just go with the truth and if she doesn’t believe the fake dating thing we say something along the lines of ‘our relationship was short but sweet and we are better off as bros’.”

“Bros?”

Thara’s hands were still almost around his waist and Frong would have liked to have some distance between them because he felt like he could feel Thara breath, but whatever had fallen off the shelf blocked his way back.

“I didn’t know you think of us as bros,” Thara said and whatever discomfort Frong was feeling got washed away when his irritation took over and he had to look at Thara’s face.

“I’m sorry? You were the one who declared us bros. My first workday, 15 September, I remember it clearly.”

Which was maybe not the best thing to do, Frong thought; to acknowledge that something like that was still a clear memory in his mind. He couldn’t suppress the grimace taking over his face and why where they still in this dumb closet? He needed to be able to hide his face from Thara, this was far too close for his comfort.

And then he felt Thara’s hands on his hips, warm and so unmistakable there and hands really shouldn’t feel like they were able to leave a brand mark on his skin. He warily glanced at Thara who just smiled at him and if he was going to do something in his life it was wiping that damn kind smile off Thara’s face but…

The warmth spread through him, from his skin to his bones and he felt the gentle pressure of Thara’s hand, like coaxing and knew that if he broke out of Thara’s hold, Thara would let him.

“Frong,” Thara said, his words on his ear, like a spell and Frong swallowed. Thara’s mouth almost touched his skin, and if Frong ever had to choose to remember one touch for eternity it was that of Thara’s lips grazing his cheek, from his ear over his jawline to the edge of his lips.

“Frong… We aren’t bros,” Thara murmured and the tiny little sound escaping Frong’s lips was a bit embarrassing but mostly the truest he has ever been around Thara.

And yes, maybe they really weren’t bros, maybe their relationship had evolved and the little forth and back they did all the time was more, more of running away from each other, but still orbiting around each other, and always coming back, more flirting than Frong would have ever admitted.

He tilted his head a bit, bringing their lips closer together and said: “We may not be bros but whatever happens next doesn’t happen in a supply closet in the hospital.”

Thara’s delighted smile was worth the possibility of stumbling out and running into his mother.

 end.

[mysterioh]

The Ignorant Beauty & The Beast of New York - Ch. 19

PAIRING: MOB!STEVE ROGERS X READER

SYNOPSIS: You love biology. The study of life excites you. But you hate people. Especially the ones that like to stick their nose in your business. Too bad the King of Brooklyn didn’t get the memo.

MASTERLIST

What Comes Around Goes Around

Peggy’s fingers curled around the porcelain teacup, delicately crafted with intricate designs, and brought it to her lips. The cool breeze of a vanishing winter sweeps through her curled auburn locks and fires goosebumps along the bare skin of her arms. Despite the cool temperature of a London morning, the sun shines freely above her, casting its rays upon her as she sits on the balcony of her penthouse. 

She takes a sip of her tea then places it back on the table beside her, eyes glued to the novel in her hand. She turns the page and her head follows. A knock comes against the glass of the balcony door making her curls bounce as she turns to see who it is. 

Dottie gives her a smile, prim and proper. Peggy replies with a roll of the eyes and returns to her book. 

Dottie only came when she had a job to give. 

“Please tell me you didn’t break my door down this time,” Peggy sighs. 

“I have a key, remember?” Dottie chuckles. She takes a seat across from her unasked. 

“You mean the one you stole from me?” Peggy mused. 

“No, the one you gave me,” Dottie retorts tiredly, discouraging Peggy from furthering her teasing. 

Peggy huffs, but doesn’t say another word. Dottie digs her hand into her bag and pulls out her phone. 

"I've found something I think you would be interested in,” she smirks, unlocking and scrolling through news. 

Peggy raises a brow at Dottie. She hands her the phone and Peggy’s lips curve up almost instantly. 

"I haven't seen this pretty face in a while,” she chuckles. 

Her eyes scan the picture. Angular cheekbones. Bright blue eyes. Golden hair. A sharp jawline. A body chiseled by the gods. 

Cameras couldn’t capture his essence. 

Her eyes flit towards the girl wrapped in his arms. "And who's this?" 

She reads the headline. 

A whore. 

"Apparently, the headlines are an exaggeration,” Dottie informs, “She's his girlfriend." 

Peggy looks up at her incredulously. "His girlfriend?" she repeats with disbelief.

"Jealous?" Dottie asks with a wicked grin, propping her chin up in her hand. 

Peggy scoffs, her eyes returning to the girl. She takes another sip of her tea. 

The taste had turned bitter.

"What is there to be jealous about?" 

Dottie shrugs. "Appearance wise she's rather plain,” she says flatly, "I was just alluding to the fact that Steve Rogers has moved on from you. You're no longer the apple of his eye.”

She speaks with emphasis to each word, slowly as if trying to rub it in her face. 

"I don't need a man to know my worth,” Peggy retorts sternly, eyes burning at Dottie. 

"But Rogers is one that you particularly enjoyed,” Dottie replies boldly, only because she knows she’s right.

Peggy’s lips waver and her gaze falls from Dottie and back onto the screen. "He was different from the others,” she murmurs softly. 

Dottie smiles triumphantly. She sits back in her seat and clasps her hands together. “The real reason I’m here is to give you a job.” 

“I had a good feeling,” she sighs, “can’t you ever come over for some tea instead?” 

“You never invite me.”

“You have a key.” 

“The boss needs your help,” Dottie states. “He needs you in New York.” 

Peggy smiles at her and then at the phone in her hand, eyes lingering at the snapshot of a sweet kiss between young lovers. 

“How convenient.” 

“For the billionth time, Steve, I’m going to be fine,” you groaned. 

“Are you sure?” he asks again and you’re ready to snap his neck. “Why not take the day off?” 

“I’ve taken two days off!” you exclaimed, “I have bills to pay!” 

Steve huffs and falls back into the driver's seat of the car. He crosses his arms like a pouty child. 

You turn in your seat so you’re facing him. “Have some faith in me?” you asked, “I mean what’s the worst that could happen?” 

Steve’s head turns to you with a knowing look making you turn away from him. 

There’s a lot that can happen now that the entirety of New York knew who you were. Every step you took, every move you made had to be taken with precaution. There’s no telling of what could be behind you or in front, of where your life was going to go from here on out. 

The future has always been uncertain, but now, it was ominous. You weren’t afraid per se. It was bound to happen someday. You just weren’t ready for it. And you had a feeling you could say that for the both of you. 

“Maybe you should just move in with me,” Steve says. 

“What?” you whip your head towards him, red tinting your cheeks. 

He shrugs, a little blush covering his own. “Then you wouldn’t have to work. You’d just have to worry about school and that’s it.” 

You smile and chuckle a little. “That’s really thoughtful of you, but I’m fine, really,” you reply, taking his free hand in yours. “Things are going to be different now, but I don’t want that to change the norm. I’d rather think of it as more of a minor inconvenience.” 

Steve chuckles and shakes his head. “You really are something else. Most people would start freaking out.” 

You smirk pompously. “I guess I’m not like most people.” 

He brings your hand to his lips. “No, I guess you aren’t.” 

Leaning over, you give him a kiss but part too quickly for his liking. He frowns as you pick up your bag. 

“I should go,” you open the door. 

He tugs you by the hand. “Listen, if anything happens you call me and if I don’t pick up call—”

“Call Bucky,” you recite with a sigh. “And if he won’t pick up. Call Sam. Or Nat. Or Peter,” you list on your fingers. “Honestly, I’ll be dead by then.” 

“Y/N,” he says sternly. 

“It’s a joke,” you retort. “Ever heard of one?” 

“It’s not a good one.” 

You give him a peck on the lips and take a step out. He pulls you back in. “Y/N.” 

“What is it now?” you ask, exasperated. 

Steve grins. He’s been doting on you all day so he understands your frustration. But he can’t help himself. He’s just worried that something might happen. 

His blue eyes drink you in, take in every part of your features. Relaxed brows, tired eyes, sweet lips that he was aching to meet again. 

You warm him like the sun. Make him light enough to float off into space. He believes that all those years he’s spent without you had gone to waste. All those days you could’ve brightened his day with a smile. All those nights he could have held you in his arms. 

“Well?”

“I—” Steve starts, but hesitates. Three words rested on his tongue, itching for a release. The time wasn’t right. “Have a good day.” 

"You too." You slip out of the car as quickly as you can so he couldn't pull you back. 

Steve doesn't move an inch. His head rests against the wheel, watching the way your ponytail bounces with each step. 

You give him one last wave before entering the restaurant, then motion him to leave. 

"Y/N!" May chirps from the register. "You're alive!" 

"Did you want me dead?" 

"Of course not!" she laughs. “How are you now? I saw the news. It’s just horrible,” she shakes her head.

"It was when it came out, but it'll pass," you shrug. "Sometimes I feel like it already has. It’s been really quiet ever since.”

May chuckles, "I’m guessing Steve did his job and scared them off." 

"Maybe," you chuckle, walking past her towards the kitchen to clock in. 

“Oh yeah,” May sighs. "Wanda's been out for the past two days. Her brother got into a horrible accident and she's been with him since. It's been really hard on her." 

"Oh," you whisper, feeling sympathy for her. 

“Staff is tight today so get to work!” she orders playfully. 

You stand tall and give her a salute. “Aye, aye, Captain.” 

Wanda’s strides grow wider as she draws nearer to the restaurant. Fires of fury smoldered in her brown eyes. Her face was red with suppressed rage, and when Vision called from behind, her head whipped towards him. ready to attack. 

She ignores his pleas and pulls the door to Urban Remedy violently as if to break it off its hinges. May’s head turns around at the sound. 

“Wanda?” she asked, confused. “What are you doing here?” 

Wanda ignores her question and looks around for you. She makes her way into the kitchen to find you picking up orders. 

When you see her you give her a small apologetic smile and it only pisses her off. 

“Who the hell do you think you are?” she hisses. Her voice echoes through the kitchen, making every living thing pause for a moment. 

“What?” Your brows knit together in confusion. 

She grabs you by the shirt with both hands. “What did my brother do to you?” she shouts, shaking you violently. “You ruined his life!” 

You push her off. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!” 

“Your fucking boyfriend!” she spat with a pointed finger. Her words spark a fire that courses through your veins. “He hurt my brother.” Wanda’s eyes gloss over but her anger remains evident in her brows. “He broke him and left him to die,” she says, voice cracking a little with every word. “I couldn’t even recognize him when I found him.” 

The fire in you runs cold. Your tightened jaw goes slack leaving your mouth parted slightly in shock. Your mind goes blank. 

Wanda breaks into tears and it breaks your heart. Vision places his hands on her shoulders from behind. 

It doesn’t make any sense to you. You didn’t know what to say or how to explain. 

What the hell were you going to explain if you didn’t even know what had happened?

You come to place your hand on her arm. “Wanda I—” 

She flinches at your touch, eyes blazing red. “Don’t touch me,” she jeers.

Your hand falls to your side and you look away in shame. Your thoughts run wild. Trying to tie the situation together and not make you fall apart at the same time. 

Why would Steve hurt him? 

Then it comes like a lightbulb. 

"Nowhere, just unfinished business." 

"I’m guessing Steve did his job and scared them away." 

Your jaw tightens and fist clenches. You look over to Wanda crying in her boyfriend's arms.

"Tell me what he did," you spoke.

"What?" She asks. 

"What did Steve do to your brother?"

The door to Steve’s office opens with a loud slam. You stomp inside with a scowl on your face. 

He furrows his brows at you, standing in front of his desk with a few papers in hand. "Y/N? You're here?" 

You slam your bag onto his desk and he winces at the sound. "Why did you do it?" 

"What are you talking about?" He shakes his head in confusion. 

"You know exactly what I'm talking about!" you shout at him. "Why did you do it?" 

He places his hand on his hip and shakes the papers in his other. "Y/N, I don't know what you're talking about,” he repeats. “Is everything alright?”

"Why the hell did you take his eye?!" you blurt out. 

Steve stands back. His lips tilt down as if irritated. "How do you know that?" 

You scoff. "What? You thought I wouldn't find out?" 

He throws his papers onto his desk. "It's something you didn't need to worry about.” 

"It's about me!” you pointed to yourself with both hands. “If anyone is supposed to be worried it's supposed to be me!" your voice begins to rise. "He's Wanda's brother!" And Wanda's my friend!” 

"I don't care whose brother he is. What he did was wrong!" he says, voice beginning to rise as well. "I can't believe you're defending the guy that wrote all that bullshit about you. I was defending you." 

You pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. "I'm not saying what he did was right. It's the fact that you decided to take it into your own hands that I’m against." 

Steve clicks his tongue. "He deserved what he got,” he spat. 

The anger residing in your veins begins to boil.  "And who made you the judge? You're not the one that's supposed to make that decision!" you shouted at him. 

“I’m the kingpin!” he yelled. “I run things around here. Anyone who goes against me will suffer the consequences!” 

You stand back, but don’t back down. "So it wasn't really about me,” you chuckled sadly. "It was about you and your overinflated ego!" you spat.

"I never said that!" he argues with arms spread at his sides.  

"You just did!” you retorted. “It's all about how people see you. You don’t wanna ruin the perfect image you have for yourself,” you jeer. "You’re not the king of the world. You're just a filthy mobster!" 

Steve’s jaw ticks at your words. Even under his stone cold expression, your words manage to hurt him. Maybe if it was someone else he wouldn’t have cared, but hearing those words from you hurt more than it should’ve. It feels all too familiar. A lot like memories he’s buried six feet under. 

“If that’s what you think then why the hell are you still here?" he states, cold enough that it has shivers running down your spine. "Maybe you should just leave!" 

Your fuse simmered with his words. 

You never said you wanted to leave. 

Your hands balled into fists and your nostrils flared. "Maybe I should!" you barked. You yanked your bag off his desk making the papers fly off as you rushed out the door. 

Steve swallows deeply as he sees you leave. He wants to run after you but his feet feel like they’re cemented to the ground. Steve swipes a hand through his hair and lets out a deep, exhausted sigh. 

A knock comes at the door and he turns to see Bucky standing in the doorframe. Half hidden as if he was afraid. 

"Uh, is everything okay?" he asks warily. 

Steve’s shoulders drop and a frown forms on his face. "No, no it's not,” he shakes his head. 

"I've made a really big mistake." 

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