#There will be at least one more chapter to follow!

[emilyprentissluvr]

Don't Tempt Me (Don't Blame Me, Chapter 2)

Emily Prentiss x Reader

Summary: Emily knew it was wrong. She knew you were the most dangerous woman the BAU had ever seen. Yet, she couldn't seem to stay away from you.

Chapter 1

Warnings: Regular CM stuff

Words: 3.3k

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EMILY STARED at herself in the mirror. Her hair was perfectly curled with bangs sitting just above her eyebrows. The black dress she bought hugged every curve of her body and showed off her toned legs. Emily knew she looked good, but hated the small part of her that wanted to look good. 

A knock on the door made Emily tear her gaze away from the mirror. "Come in!" The brunette called and a couple of seconds later Hotch opened the door and walked into the locker room. "You sure you're up to this?" The unit chief asked, a hint of concern laced his signature frown.

"Yes Hotch, I am the one that suggested it," Emily reminded him as she walked to her locker to grab a pair of earrings. "I know, just double checking," Hotch said. He wasn't exactly enthusiastic about this plan, if he could even call it that. It had been less than 12 hours since Emily suggested taking Y/n out on a date. How all of this transpired so quickly was still a mystery to Hotch. There was a higher probability of things going wrong than right, but he knew they had to act fast before Y/n left DC.

"Did Garcia find anything else?" Emily asked as she finished putting her small, silver hoops in.

"Well, she's using a burner phone to text you so we can't trace her. And we can't find her in any database with just a first name, plus it could be fake anyway." Hotch said as he leaned against the frame of the door. "So, in short terms, we have absolutely nothing." Emily sighed and Hotch nodded apologetically. 

"We do have her profile though. And up to this point, she's only ever killed men." Hotch offered and Emily couldn't help but laugh, "She's still an unpredictable, high-functioning psychopath."

"I know, I just..." Hotch trailed off, knowing that there wasn't anything to say to comfort the agent in front of him. "Don't let your guard down and don't do anything stupid." He added.

"Me? Do something stupid? Never." Emily said as she closed her locker and Hotch scoffed before cracking a rare smile. "The cars ready for you," He said getting back on topic, "Derek's going to be there and I have five other undercover agents scattered throughout the bar."

Emily nodded as she gathered her belongings and followed Hotch out the door. "Do you have a plan for when you get in there?" The unit chief asked as the pair walked into the elevator. "I'll make her wait for a little, maybe have Derek talk to her. Get her warmed up a bit and then take her down when she least expects it." Emily said.

"That's it?" Hotch asked slowly, already hating this plan more and more. 

"Well, there's still a chance Y/n knows exactly what she's walking into. And if she does then I'll press the button" Emily said as she held up her wrist. Penelope had given her a bracelet with a small button on it that would alert the team if she pressed it. "I know what I'm doing though, trust me on that."

"Okay, but if at any point I think things are going south I'm sending SWAT in," Hotch said seriously and Emily nodded in agreement. 

As they walked out of the elevator and to the car Emily felt her phone buzz.  She pulled it out of the bag, already knowing who the message was from.

Y/N (6:03 PM)- I can't wait to see you again, Emily.

Emily let out a shallow breath as she reread the message and then pocketed her phone. As soon as she got into the car she closed her eyes, trying to gather herself. She was no stranger to being undercover. In fact, this wasn't even her first undercover case with a serial killer. But it was the first time she had to go undercover as herself. No fake identities or new personas, just regular, old Emily Prentiss. So this should be easy enough, right? Well, at least Emily hoped to God it would be. 

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

Y/n sat at the bar counter in the same black pantsuit from this morning as she waited for Emily to show up. The brunette had sent her the address to one of her favorite bars, and so far Y/n had been impressed. Although, it was currently 6:40, which meant that Emily was ten minutes late but Y/n wasn't too upset. 

"Now what is a pretty lady like you doing all alone?" A man asked as he slid into the chair next to Y/n. The woman turned her head and was face to face with Derek Morgan. She stared at him, eyes narrowing, and Derek had honestly never felt more scrutinized by someone's gaze until now.

"I'm waiting for someone," Y/n said, her hard look quickly turning into a smile and Derek was surprised by how genuine it looked. 

"I wouldn't make you wait," Derek said with a boyish smile as he leaned closer, his knees bumping into Y/n's as he swerved his chair more in her direction. Derek didn't know what he was expecting, be he did not expect Y/n to place a delicate hand on his knee, "I suppose I have time to kill," She said thoughtfully. "I'm Y/n."

"Derek," The agent said as he placed his hand on top of hers. 

"Ruler of the people," Y/n murmured as she tilted her head slightly.

"Excuse me?" Derek asked, confused as to what she was saying.

"The name Derek. It means ruler of the people," Y/n said as she removed her hand and placed it in her lap. She once again eyed the man up and down and Derek, who usually loved the attention from women, was starting to feel uneasy. 

"The meaning behind a name is just as important as the name, don't you think?" Y/n asked and Derek nodded slowly, "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Now, are you going to buy me a drink or are you merely gracing me with your presence?" Y/n asked, her tone sickly sweet even when it was full of sarcasm.

"Oh right," Derek said shaking his head. He couldn't even comprehend how a two-minute conversation was already throwing him off his game, "What do want?"

"Two Old Fashioned's." Y/n smiled and Derek tried not to read into it the fact that that was one of Emily's favorite drinks. Derek waved the bartender down and ordered the drink. When Derek turned back to Y/n he saw that she was surveying the bar, obviously looking for Emily, although the intentions behind her eyes were still unknown to the agent.

"Are you sure you're not getting stood up?" Derek joked and Y/n turned to look at him with a slight eyebrow raise. "I don't get stood up," She said seriously and Derek believed it.

"Two Old Fashioned's!" The bartender said as he placed the drinks on the counter in front of them. From the corner of Derek's eye, he could see Y/n smile as she looked at the door. As soon as he was about to grab the drink, Y/n's hand cut him off and grabbed both of them. 

"Sorry to cut this short Derek, but it seems that my date has arrived." She smiled as she stood up. 

"Wait that was my drink-" Derek started before he was cut off by Y/n, who was behind his chair, leaning over to whisper in his ear, "Not anymore."

Derek hated the way he tensed up but that only made Y/n laugh softly. "We should do this again sometime," Y/n murmured before pulling away and walking to the middle of the bar. Even though he was now nervous for Emily, he couldn't be more relieved to be away from Y/n. There was something about the woman that Derek couldn't shake.

"I was beginning to wonder when you would show up." Y/n smiled as she shamelessly looked Emily up and down. The brunette just shook her head apologetically, "Sorry! I got stuck at work." She said as the two women made their way through the crowd. 

"You look gorgeous," Y/n complimented as she fell into step with the brunette. Emily smiled as her hand easily found its way to Y/n's lower back as she guided her to a table in the corner of the room, "So do you," Emily said and she wasn't lying. The black suit fit Y/n perfectly and it was one of the reasons Emily had been so drawn to her this morning.

"I thought it was a slow day," Y/n threw over her shoulder. "I thought so too." Emily chuckled as they found a table, her hand dropping from Y/n's back as she reached for her drink. She briefly took note that it was her favorite drink, but she also knew that they had a similar taste in coffee so she didn't want to read into that much. 

"So what is it you do, Emily?" Y/n asked as she took a sip of her drink. 

"I'm an accountant with the firm a couple blocks away," Emily lied easily, "And you?"

"I'm a writer." Y/n smiled and Emily tilted her head slightly, "Really?" She asked, not expecting that to have been the younger woman's answer. 

"Yes, well, I'm a ghostwriter if you want to get specific," Y/n answered and Emily frowned, "What does that mean?"

"I write stories anonymously and sell them to authors so they can put their names on them," Y/n said.

"So you do all the work but don't get any credit?" Emily asked, extremely intrigued if the woman in front of her was telling the truth. Although it did make sense, Y/n didn't profile as a narcissist. 

"I do the work and get a big paycheck, darling. I love to write but I don't want the fame that comes with it." Y/n said and Emily brushed her finger against the younger woman's knuckles, "So I take it you're pretty successful. Who do you write for?" The agent asked, suddenly wondering if she had ever read one of Y/n's books.

"I'm afraid that's classified."

"I'll have you know I am nothing if not persistent," Emily grinned, "You went overseas for your job, right? So it's not an American author." Emily pointed and Y/n shook her head amused, "Alright, enough about me," Y/n said as she grabbed onto the brunette's hand, "Come on. Let's dance," She smiled as she began to drag Emily to the middle of the bar.

"Already?" Emily practically yelled as she followed Y/n. The brunette naively hoped that they would have talked longer. It was kind of part of her plan but it seems like that was out the window now. 

"It's never too early to dance," Y/n said as she pulled Emily flush against her in the crowded room. Her hands went to Emily's hips as the brunette threw are arms lazily around Y/n's neck. She couldn't help but stare into Y/n's eyes. Her gaze was soft, eyes reflecting the flashing lights of the bar, and Emily couldn't help but get lost in them. There was something innocent about Y/n's eyes and that was what pulled Emily out of her trance. Because Y/n wasn't innocent, actually she was probably the furthest thing from innocent. Emily took a deep breath and tried to refocus. 

"I never got the chance to finish my drink," Emily said as her body swayed to the music and Y/n followed suit.

"I didn't take you for someone who needs a drink to have fun," Y/n said as she pulled Emily impossibly closer, their noses were less than an inch away. "I'm not," The brunette said, tilting her head and she realized she would have the perfect angle to connect her lips to the soft ones in front of her. Not that she was going to, or wanted to,Emily reminded herself. 

"Oh yeah? Prove it." Y/n smirked as her thumbs brushed against Emily's hipbones. As soon as Y/n did that she felt herself being flipped around so that her back was right up against the brunette's front. Emily snaked her arms around Y/n's waist and hooked her chin on Y/n's shoulder. "Don't tempt me," Emily murmured against the shell of Y/n's ear, and the agent couldn't help but revel in the way Y/n shivered. For the first time tonight, Emily felt like she was the one in control.

"It's fun to rile you up though." Y/n smiled as turned her face towards Emily, her nose brushing against the side of Emily's cheek. 

"You couldn't handle me riled up." Emily chuckled, although her eyes betrayed her when her gaze focused back on Y/n's plush lips for a brief second. She had hoped Y/n hadn't seen it but of course, she wasn't so lucky. 

"Was that a challenge? Because I'll have you know, I love a challenge." Y/n said as she placed her hands on top of Emily's and leaned further back into her. Emily knew this was her chance, granted it came a lot sooner than she thought. But her trained eye saw the opening so she knew she had to take it, "Let's get out of here," Emily murmured into Y/n's ear, "I'll show you what a real challenge looks like." The brunette continued and Y/n immediately unwrapped herself from Emily's arms and dragged the both of them toward the bathroom. 

Emily made brief eye contact with Derek and he raised his eyebrows silently asking if everything was fine. She gave a slight nod, her code to let him know she was fine and to not approach unless she called for backup. The brunette quickly tore her attention away from Derek and to her hand that was interlaced with Y/n's.

Before they could even make it to the bathroom Emily felt herself being pushed against a wall and Y/n's soft lips claimed her own. She was taken back for a second but her hands still instinctively shot to Y/n's hips. It was the way that Y/n's hands made their to Emily's hair and tugged slightly that Emily was brought back to reality. 

She immediately kissed Y/n back, loving the way she could taste the slight hint of citrus. Wait, not loving, she was only doing this so she could arrest Y/n. Emily reminded herself, even though it was very hard to think about anything other than the Y/n's lips felt.

Emily pulled Y/n even closer, practically lifting the woman as her tongue trailed along Y/n's bottom lip. "Let's go back to my place," Emily said, pulling her head away for a brief second and trying to ignore the beautifully kiss-swollen lips in front of her.

"I have a better idea," Y/n murmured as she connected their lips once again, her kiss was hungry and passionate but soft at the same time. Emily tried not to enjoy it, she knew shouldn't. Y/n was a serial killer after all, but did she have to be so good at kissing?!

Emily felt herself being pulled away from the wall but her lips never left Y/n's. She didn't even know where they were going until she heard a door slam shut and a lock click. The agent internally cursed herself for not being attentive enough, but she could still fix this.

"I think we can do better than a quickie in the bathroom," Emily said as she easily flipped the two of them around, pinning Y/n to the wall by her hips. The younger woman gasped in surprise before looping her arms around Emily's neck. Y/n smiled as she started placing kisses along the brunette's defined jawline. She nipped at the spot just below Emily's ear and she tried her best to suppress the moan that wanted to leave her lips. 

"Not much of an exhibitionist, Agent Prentiss?" Y/n said as she pulled back and gave Emily a sadistic smile. 

Emily felt her stomach drop. She should have known this was too easy. Should have known the second laid eyes on Y/n in the bar earlier. But somehow she couldn't think straight whenever she looked at the woman in front of her. 

"What? Do you really think I am that stupid?" Y/n said with a pout as she studied the way Emily's face hardened. "That I would unknowingly walk into your so-called trap?" Y/n chuckled as she twirled Emily's curls in her hands. "And then you had Derek come over and flirt with me? It's quite comical how predictable you are."

"Why'd you come then?" Emily asked, trying to figure out the right moment to call for backup.

"Like I said earlier, I love a challenge." Y/n grinned before flipping them so quickly that Emily didn't have time to fight back before her back hit the wall. "But right now, it's proving to be rather easy," Y/n sighed as she traced Emily's bottom lip, "You and your team were supposed the be the best. But I have to say, I am rather unimpressed."

Emily immediately pulled her head away even though she had nowhere to go since she was still pinned to the wall. "So you knew who I was this morning at the coffee shop," Emily stated, not knowing if that was worse or better at this particular moment.

Y/n eyes lit up as she leaned closer, "No, I didn't know who you were. That part just was luck."

"So lucky," Emily muttered under breath.  

"As soon as I realized who you were, I cursed myself for being so sloppy," Y/n said, ignoring Emily as trailed her finger across her collarbones, "But then I realized that meeting you was a blessing in disguise. Because now I know what I've been missing for all these years."

"And what's that?" Emily asked as she quickly used all of her momentum and knocked both of them to the floor. Y/n's back collided with the ground and Emily straddled her hips to keep her down. The agent pinned her arms above her head and Y/n barked out a laugh as she stared at the woman on top of her, "Bold. I like it."

"Answer my question" Emily gritted out, as her hands tightened against Y/n's wrist. 

"This. I've missed this." Y/n said she leaned her head up, now inches away from Emily's. "The hunt. It's exhilarating. And I am definitely not going to complain about being pinned down by a very beautiful woman." Y/n grinned and Emily just shook her head. "Well, the hunt's over." She said as she leaned closer, their noses almost touching. "We have almost fifty agents waiting out there for you. The only way you're getting out of here is in cuffs." Emily continued and Y/n surged forward so their lips were almost touching, "Don't threaten me with a good time, Agent Prentiss."

Emily stared into Y/n's eyes, not liking the look in them. There wasn't an ounce of fear for someone who had just been caught. The agent racked her brain with the younger woman's profile, she knew she wouldn't go down without a fight. Knew that everything she did was unpredictable but also meticulously planned. There was no way someone of this caliber would walk into a trap and not have a backup plan. 

"I can see the cogs in your brain turning, Agent Prentiss." Y/n grinned and Emily shook her head, "What else are you up to?" She asked, her eyes never leaving the woman's under her. 

"Reach into my back pocket and find out," Y/n said as she wiggled her hips under Emily's weight. Emily rolled her eyes as she took her weight off the younger woman's torso and immediately hauled them both to a standing position. The agent made quick work of repining Y/n's arms behind her back.

She carefully reached into Y/n's back pocket and pulled out a small device. Emily furrowed her eyebrows as she got a better look at it and realized there was a small timer on the front that appeared to be counting down from 2 minutes.

"What is this?" Emily asked as she lifted the device to the other woman's eyes.

Y/n smiled as her eyes went from the device to Emily. "What? You've never seen a bomb detonator before?"

[carmyboobear]

Blood Orange (Ch 2: The Bathroom)

Carmy Berzatto x Reader (R18, MDNI)

Rating: E (5.7k)

links: fic playlist, pinterest board, ao3 link, ch 1

Chapter Summary: No more fucking your boss. That’s what you’ve been telling yourself, but he doesn’t make it easy, even as you find yourself wanting to scream. Somehow it all falls away when you lower yourself to your knees before him. You don’t know if there’s any stopping this anymore. 

Content Tags: work sex, blow jobs, mouth fucking, CUM PLAY, dom/bossy carmy, coworkers with benefits, carmy being difficult, mental illness, they/them reader, gender neutral reader, the usual

A/N: WHEW. It’s here! Thanks for waiting y’all. I think I embarrassed myself writing this one (flushed emoji). It’s ramping up. Next chapter is gonna be big one. Let me know what you guys think, and enjoy! <3

Before you go to work the next morning, you make yourself come on your fingers. It would've been twice if you had more time. 

You open your eyes waking from a dream with his ghostly blue eyes and low voice, and you already know you're wet before you even touch yourself. The pads of your reaching fingers chase the tender spot Carmy stroked inside of you, but they don't quite make it. Of course they don't. 

Fingering yourself eases the ache for a little while. On the early morning transit with headphones over your ears, you still manage to find yourself aching for him. The music doesn't cover up the sound of his voice, and you catch yourself grimacing in the faint reflection of the dirty metro windows. 

This is not a good way to start your second day at work.

Since you left the walk-in yesterday, Carmy's been following you around like a mosquito in the summer, whizzing around your head, buzzing in your ears. You can't rid your thoughts of him. When you close your eyes, you're trapped in the fridge with him, again, and his fingers are deep inside you. 

Fuck. You're standing in front of the restaurant, willing yourself to go in. Just stop it, you think to yourself. 

You really should be more mad at him. He technically never apologized for insulting you, but you suppose you didn't expect him to in the first place. You didn't usually get apologies at places like this, from people like him. You don't want to get in the bad habit of expecting good things from broken people.

No more fucking your boss, you think resolutely to yourself, and that's the thought you meditate on as you open the door. 

By this time yesterday, there were already a couple of people floating around the kitchen. Today, you find dim lights and silence. Your footsteps feel too loud on the white linoleum as you walk to the lockers to drop off your stuff. You can’t pretend to understand the schedule yet.

“Carmen?” You pace around again as you secure your apron with a tie. No response. Surely he's here, at least. Someone had to open the place. 

You take a couple more steps when you hear his voice. 

“No, I'm not—that's not what I was sayin’.” The direction of his voice sounds like it's coming from his office. “Of course I miss him. Sugar—” A pause. “I know. Yeah. It's bullshit.” He laughs then, you think. You can't measure how genuine it is. “You're bullshit. Look, I'll call you back later, okay? And I'll—yeah, I'll look at it. Promise. Yeah. Bye.”

It's quiet after that. You're standing there, not sure what to do with yourself when you hear footsteps. Sure enough, Carmy pops out of the office, and you catch just a glimpse of something haunted in him before surprise takes over.

“Hi,” you say at the same time he says, “Jesus Christ.”

“How long have you been here,” he asks, as you go, “That's an interesting way to pronounce my name.”

“Um,” you start, and he stares at you blankly, unreactive to your joke. Too early, you guess. “I just got here.”

“Okay. Cool. Uh…” Anxiety radiates off of him, making his hands fidget and run through untamed hair. Not that you were looking at his hands at all. “You’ll be doin’ prep again.”

“Alright.” You expected as such. You’ll probably be on prep for the rest of the week, if not the month. That’s how most places go, but this isn’t most places. 

“Your station was dirty when you left yesterday.” You walk up to your station, and it’s spotless. “I had to clean it before I left.”

“Ah. I’m sorry about that,” you apologize quickly. I was preoccupied with other things, you think bitterly to yourself, thinking of locked doors and heated kisses. Not that you’ll mention it. “I’ll make sure to clean it this time.”

“Prep’s gonna be a bit different today,” he says, completely ignoring your apology. You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from snapping. “You’re gonna inspect produce, and then you’ll prep the stock again. Correctly this time.”

“It was nearly perfect, I just misplaced it,” you mutter under your breath.

“Yeah, nearly.” Looks like he heard you this time. Asshole. He places a box of onions on your station, rattling the table slightly. “Do I have to tell you how to sort out the bad ones from the good ones?” You’re honestly not sure if he means that as a jab, but the way he says it makes your insides sizzle with irritation.

Don’t take it personally, you remind yourself. Don’t. Take. It. Personally. 

“How about you show me just in case? Just so we’re on the same page.” It’s a wonder how calm you keep your voice. To your surprise, Carmy doesn’t roll his eyes, doesn’t sigh, he just nods and proceeds. Every time you think you’ll predict him properly, he does the opposite. 

You follow the line of his callused finger pointing to brown splotches on some of the onions. Intently, studiously, you examine the dark spots (indicative of mold), the sprouts (initial stages of deterioration), and the mushy areas (a sign of decreasing freshness). He’s talking about details as he seems to do when it comes to food, even elaborating on the farming process, but you don’t quite pick up that part. You just pay attention to the parameters you need to follow.

No more fucking your boss, you remind yourself again, because you catch yourself aching at the sight of his fingers. Your eyes have a hunger of their own, flickering up and down his muscular arms. God damnit. Maybe there’s another reason you can’t quite pay attention today. 

“Are you listening?” Carmy’s pointed question snaps you out of it. Fuck. You hope he didn’t catch you staring at his fingers again.

“If I can save it and just chop off the bad parts, then I should,” you regurgitate on instinct. “Those are the best ones to use for the stock. Otherwise, I should just toss it.”

For a split second, all he does is fix you with his focused stare. You feel the intensity of it in your chest, your beating heart fluttering with its weight. No matter how many times you scold yourself for finding him attractive, your eyes can’t ignore what’s right in front of them. You find yourself counting his moles. 

“I caught you staring,” he murmurs, “for real this time.”

“I—uh—” Your eyebrows are so raised you’re sure they’re bound to shoot off your warmed face. He’s smiling like he knows something you don’t. You weren’t going to mention yesterday, and after your first interaction this morning, you were sure he wasn’t going to, either. Guess you were wrong again.

“I’ll be in the back if you need help. The others should be here soon.” He’s moving on without giving you a chance to recover. Your brain can’t process the shock. “Just call if you need anything."

Before you get a chance to scrounge up anything to say, you’re alone in the kitchen again. 

This time I'm really gonna do it, you fume internally. Because you have a healthy amount of anger management, you don’t let yourself continue that thought.

Sydney is the third person to show up after you and Carmy. You give her a nod and a thin smile as she walks in, and she waves back. Soon after she arrives, the others trickle in one by one. As you're learning to expect, the quiet never lasts for long. 

There are tasks circling you just like yesterday that you don't fully grasp yet. Everyone seems to be instinctively following their own schedule, their circadian rhythm matched to the chaotic ecosystem of the kitchen. It’s just as suffocating as it was yesterday. You remind yourself that as a new hire, you don't need to understand the madness yet. Nonetheless, an invisible pressure presses down on you. 

“Hey, d'you mind telling me where this produce goes?” A triple stack of filled containers sits heavy in your arms. With Sydney out of the kitchen, Marcus is your next safest option in terms of coworkers. His head flicks up from where he was focused on kneading dough. A streak of white flour is across his nose. 

“Oh, that one's bottom shelf, near the back.” He claps his dusty hands together, flour falling between them like snow. “Here, I'll just show you. You know where the walk-in is?”

With Marcus, it doesn't feel like there are any stupid questions. It's a gift you don't take for granted, especially around here. You let him lead you to the fridge again, even though you remember where it is. It doesn't hurt. 

“Thanks. I'm, uh, still having a hard time figuring out where stuff goes,” you say after you put the produce away. 

“It’s cool. It's only your second day, right?” You nod. “Just takes time. Don't sweat it. You ever work in a restaurant before?”

“Yeah, a couple of times.”

“Then you know what you're gettin’ into.” That makes you laugh. 

“Sorta.” You shrug. “To be honest with you, I just need money, and I like cooking enough, so…now I'm here.” You're not quite as honest with how desperate your situation was on the verge of coming, but it's fine. Not really the time and place for it anyway. 

“I gotcha. That's how it was for me too, actually.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah. Well, that's how I started at McDonald’s. That was a while ago now.”

“I see. It's better here, I hope.”

“Hard to say,” he says, but there's a little smile on his face. “For the most part, Michael was cool, but—”

“Michael!” You blurt out, startling the both of you. “Holy shit, I'm sorry. I've just been trying to remember the name of the previous owner for forever now and—wow, sorry. I didn't mean to shout.”

“It's fine.” Marcus has this amused expression, but it dissolves quickly. “You met him?”

“I did. I came here a couple of years ago when I first moved. Just once, but—anyway, what's his deal?”

“His deal?”

“Yeah, like, why'd he give the restaurant away? Carmy said he didn't want it anymore.”

“Oh.” You can't read the way Marcus’ face shifts. “That's what he said?”

“...Yeah?”

“I see. Okay. Uh…” He pauses, scratching the back of his neck. “Look, I know how this sounds, but just try not to bring Mike up for now. It's still kind of a sore subject.”

“Ah, my bad.” Your brain instantly supplies stories of estranged families, sibling spats, and stolen money. You suppose it's a sour sort of relationship—something you're intimately familiar with. “Can I ask what happened, or…?”

“I'll tell you later,” he replies evasively. “You know what else they got you training on today?”

“No idea,” you answer honestly. The nosy part of you wants to hear more about the Berzatto family, but the responsible part of you reminds you to cool your jets. “Carmy just told me I was on produce. Know where he's at? I peeked into his office, but he wasn't there.”

“Oh, he just left.” Your blank stare makes him elaborate. “He's off doing Carmy things.”

“Doing Carmy things?” Looks like the person in charge has abandoned you yet again.

“Business stuff, probably.” Marcus shrugs. “He does that sometimes. He probably won't be back for a while, so I can help you with training for now if you want.”

“That would be great.” There's a remark on the tip of your tongue about poor management, but you hold it. “Is Carmy a better boss, at least?”

“Compared to Michael?” You recognize sadness in Marcus’ pinched brows, even if it's only momentary. “I dunno. It hasn't been long, but this place has been running more smoothly since he started doing things.” Your shocked expression makes him laugh briefly. “I know, it used to be worse if you can believe it.”

“I'm not sure that I can,” you admit. 

. . . . .

The next several days at work continue to test your patience. While Carmy keeps you on prep, keeping your tasks simple, he continues to find ways to keep you on edge. You stiffen up every time he enters the kitchen, waiting for him to point out yet another mistake. 

Chef, this cut's too uneven. Chef, you're taking too much time on this. Chef, you should’ve cut this part off. Chef, you’re creating too much waste. 

Yes, Chef, you always reply, even as his comments become more and more grating. A childish part of you wants to do a worse job out of spite, but another part of you is hungry for his approval far more than you would ever admit. You wonder if he's this tough on everyone. 

The incident in the walk-in does not get mentioned again. A childish voice in you wonders if Carmy has forgotten about it. Of course he hasn’t, but every time he critiques you, you wonder about the Carmy who kissed you. You wonder what that Carmy's thinking, because you have no clue. 

Has he been thinking of you, too?

This is how things should be, you remind yourself after you touch yourself for the fourth night in a row to the thought of him. Your fingers are wet, and your wrist is embarrassingly sore. I can't have sex with my boss again. I just can't. 

Would it be different if he also touched himself to thoughts of you?

You desperately suck your own cum off your fingers, and you wish it were his fingers instead. It doesn't taste the same. 

The bright lights are irritatingly bright when you come in this morning. It looks like you're the first person here again, other than Carmy. You hear his irritated voice as soon as you enter, which is clearly a good sign. 

“I appreciate you thinking of me, I do. I do. It's just—” He sighs. Looks like he's having another phone call. “I can't come back. Not right now.” Silence. “No, uh, won't happen for a while, I think. The place's fucked.” A shaky breath. “What? What did you say?

“The head chef asked about me?” Carmy's voice has gone tight. “I see. Of course he said that. No, it's fine.” Pause. “...I know what they've been saying. I figured they'd look down on me.” His laugh is hollow and painful. “Look, I got shit to do. Thanks for asking me, but it's a no. I can't.” Another pause, drawn out and tense. “Sure. Bye.”

After he hangs up, you hear him muttering to himself. You can't pick out any of the words other than the curses, but it sounds bad. As you put your things away, you silently pray to the abstract idea of a god to give you both strength of patience. Seems like you'll need it today. 

“Morning,” you tentatively greet him when he sees you. He's not surprised by your presence today, it seems. He nods back. 

“Morning.” His eyebags are dark with a lack of sleep. Upon closer inspection, his whole everything screams sleep deprivation, perhaps a bit more so than usual. His messy hair seems particularly unkempt today. “You're doing prep again today.”

“I figured.” 

“You need to get better about cleaning your station.” His words are full to the brim with irritation. “I keep having to clean it after you.”

“I thought I was—” You stop. Calm down, you think, but it's getting harder and harder to repeat. “Sorry. I didn't realize.”

“I told you the other day that it was dirty. Were you even paying attention?”

“Of course I was!” Annoyance bubbles over inside of you, potent and unbridled. Carmy barely reacts to your raised voice. Somehow, that pisses you off more.  The cap on your contained anger has popped off, and there's no fitting it back on. “Are you always like this towards your employees?”

“Like what?”

“Like an asshole?” You're too irritated to hold yourself back. 

“Depends. Are you always like this with your boss?” He retorts immediately. 

“I don't usually have sex with my boss, so no, I suppose not,” you respond stupidly, and that makes him go dead silent. He narrows his eyes, fixes you with his gaze. Like you're a new problem that needs solving or something like that.

God damnit, you think to yourself. Why'd you have to say that?

“You've been thinking about it.” The air feels thicker, suddenly.

“I never said that.”

“Then why did you mention it?” Shit. “You said you were going to do better.”

“And I have been. I've been trying to do everything you've been telling me to do.” You don't know why you take a step towards him. “You said you were gonna be nicer.”

“And I have been,” he echoes, and his sincerity makes you roll your eyes. 

“Bullshit! You've been nit-picking me all week!”

“We have standards here, and you need to learn how to follow them. That's all.”

“You're right! I'm learning,” you argue, throwing exasperated hands up in the air. “Cut me some fucking slack!”

“Then learn. Improve.” He slams a hand down on the aluminum surface next to you, enclosing you partially in. Being this close to him, you can really see how dark his dark circles are. You could easily move to the side if you wanted to, but something in you stays put. “There's no excuse for a dirty workspace in a kitchen. I thought you would know that already.”

“I'm so fucking sorry, chef,” you spit back with about as much venom as you can muster. Which, right now, is a lot. 

That shifts something inside him. You see it flash across his face—surprise, anger, and then…something else.

“Dirty work station and a dirty mouth,” he murmurs. His voice is lower, quieter, and it sounds just like how it did in the walk-in. You hate how that change instantly makes your heart pick up speed. “You think you get a pass to act like this because of what happened in the walk-in?”

“You motherfucker,” you hiss, meeting his glare with your own. “So now you're going to acknowledge it? And for the record, I get to act however the fuck I want. Especially with someone like you.”

“Someone like me.” He doesn't ask you to elaborate. He just laughs, breathy and condescending, and he's so close you can feel his breath fan across your face. “You think you're above all this, don't you?”

“What?” The question takes you so off guard that it almost dissipates the strange mix of anger and arousal simmering in your gut. 

“I know it doesn't feel good to have to take orders from someone you hate, but here's the thing. You have to.” He's not smiling, but you swear he's getting some sort of sick satisfaction from all this. Why else would he be saying any of this shit?

“I could leave right now if I wanted to,” you threaten him. “You won't be able to find anyone else that wants to work in this shithole of a place.”

“You're right. You could leave if you really wanted to.” His eyes narrow curiously at you. “Then why haven't you?”

You’re well within your right to leave already—it checks all the boxes. Chaotic work environment. Awful management. General workplace misconduct. Unprofessionalism between coworkers. You suppose you're partially to blame for that last one, but still. 

If it's bad, I'll just find another job, you told yourself. You're not sure why you're not listening to your own advice. The simple truth of the matter, though, is that other jobs won't have him. They won't have the man that's been keeping you up at night, the man that you want to simultaneously devour and destroy. They won't have Carmen Berzatto, and for some reason, that's all it's going to take.

You don't understand yourself. It scares you, but not enough. Not enough to leave.

“...I don't know why I haven't left yet,” you say quietly after a while. “I have no clue.”

“I see.” If he's dissatisfied with your answer, he doesn't show it. “Then for the time you're here, let's make one thing clear.”

“What is it now?” You sigh.

“I'm in charge here,” he whispers. His other hand is on the counter now. You're completely blocked in. “I'm the one who runs this place, so you're going to be good and listen to me when I speak.”

“You're not really giving me a lot of incentive, chef.” You lower your gaze to the counters next to you. “Maybe if you gave me something to work with.” You don't mean for it to come out as suggestive as it does, but with him surrounding you like this… 

“Incentive?” He brings a hand to your face, tucking his fingers under your chin to pull your gaze back to him. His touch is achingly gentle, but it forces it to look straight into his eyes. Your fidgety gaze catches glances of the dark blue speckles that border his pale iris. “Hey,” he whispers, “look at me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. Your heart's pounding like sprinting feet thudding on concrete. You can't place what feelings are excitement or anxiety or both, but maybe no separation exists. Shutting your eyes was a weak attempt to temporarily block him out, but now all you can focus on is the sensation of his rough hand on your hot face. 

Hesitantly, you open your eyes to face him. Ice blue and dark circles. His intense stare is difficult to match, but you try. 

“What do you want from me?” You ask quietly. 

“I want you to clean your station. Think you can do that?”

“Don't patronize me. Of course I can. I just—happened to forget.”

“Hm.” He smiles briefly. It's just a bit mocking. “You don't have a good track record so far, so you'll have to prove it to me.”

“...And how would I do that?”

“Depends,” he replies vaguely. “Depends on what you want.”

“What I want? I thought you were supposed to be in charge.”

“When I touched you, you told me you wanted to touch me.” The realization clicks in your head. “Do you still want that?”

You hesitate. Memories of the walk-in flood in. You remember the silhouette of his tight jeans over his bulge, and you ache. You shouldn't say yes. You really shouldn't. A distant voice says, you don't want to do this. What have you been telling yourself? This is a bad idea.

Unfortunately, it's far past a matter of want anymore. It's a matter of need.

“Yes,” you whisper back. Your fate is sealed. “I do.”

That's how you find yourself in the cramped bathroom with him. It's dark with one of the lightbulbs having gone out, making it feel even smaller. An eerie green cast coats the room. 

“You're going to show me that you can listen. That you can clean up after your messes.” He's leaned up against the wall, broad hands unbuttoning his pants. Your eyes shamelessly zero in on the motion. “Think you can do that much?”

“Of course I can,” you reply, but it comes out a lot softer than intended. 

“Good.” You force your eyes away from the outline of his bulge in his boxers to look at his face. His darkened eyes are trained on you. “Get on your knees.”

Oh, you think. So this is how it's gonna go.

You wish you could say that you hesitate even a little bit, that there’s even a shred of contemplation left in you. However, there isn't any of that remaining. Obediently, you fall to your knees, resting them against the cold, hard bathroom floor. You're at eye level with his unbuttoned jeans. Slowly, you raise your eyes to look at him. 

His downturned face is framed by wild strands of hair. Looking down at you casts darker shadows across his face, but not enough to hide his expression. It's an odd mix of hunger and what you think to be admiration. Surely not, but that's immediately the thought that comes to mind. 

“Waiting for directions, chef,” you murmur. 

“Mm. Right,” he says, like he was lost in thought. “You look better like this.”

“Watch it,” you warn him. “I could still bite your dick off.” To that, he just briefly smiles, and then it's gone.

He's pulled his black pants down just enough to let his clothed bulge hang over the waistband. The sight of it goes straight to the simmer starting in your gut. You watch his veined hand disappear into his boxers. He's doing this far too slowly for your taste. 

Finally, he pulls out his cock, nearly completely stiffened, and you can't deny the way you begin to salivate. 

You were right. It's big, though not just in length. His cock is thick. You immediately know you won't be able to take the full length of him into your mouth, but what fits is going to be a stretch. You're already imagining how those bulging veins are going to feel against the flat of your tongue. 

“Use your mouth for something other than talking back to me. Make me come,” Carmy orders quietly. “Enough direction for you?”

“Shut the hell up,” you mutter, ignoring the feeling of the growing heat inside you, and you pull the reddened, shiny tip of his cock between your lips. 

His pre-come mixes with the saliva on your tongue. You savor the taste of his salty musk, suckling slowly, and you hear him exhale shakily above you. Looks like you've been given something of an opportunity to get him back for the walk-in. Not repayment—payback. The distinction is important. 

When you pull back, thin strings of spit connect the pink head to your glistening lips. One of your hands moves to hold the base of his cock as you close the gap again. You drag your tongue down the side of his length, licking the thick vein you were eyeing earlier. You feel him twitch. 

“Do that again,” he breathes. Without question, your tongue retraces its path, running back over the line of spit it created. That gets you a quiet, strangled moan, and it's music to your ears. 

“Is this part sensitive?” You ask as you stroke the vein with your thumb. You suck your way down the vein again, making small, wet seals of pleasure. 

“Somewhat.” He sounds good like this, breathless and flustered. A smile twitches on your lips. You lick across the inside of your hand, wetting it before lazily curling it around his cock. He slides effortlessly in your grasp. 

“You gonna come already?” You can't help but tease. He's surprisingly reactive, more so than you would've thought. It's not that you're complaining—it's not that at all. The sound of his low groans is making you drip. 

“Hah—no. You'll have to work harder than that.” You feel a hand pushing back your hair, and that makes you raise your head towards him. His touch is surprisingly gentle. You watch the movement of his lips when he speaks. “Open your mouth, and stick out your tongue.”

You can't quite figure out what it is about all of this that makes you submit. Just moments ago, you wanted to wring your hands around his throat. It was far too easy to abandon your anger and kneel in front of him. Maybe it's the incomprehensibly part of you that undeniably needs his validation. Maybe it's the soft, low tone of his voice, gentle yet commanding. Either way, it has you obeying with a thought in your mind. 

You do as he says. You part your lips and extend your tongue. As your eyes flutter upwards towards him, you're struck with the impression that you must look obscene. 

“Perfect,” he whispers, and just the one word sends something of a euphoric rush through you. “Doin’ so good for me.” 

You soak up the praise, basking in the warmth of it. Then, Carmy spits onto your tongue, and his saliva slides towards the back of your mouth. 

You can't hide your surprise. Your breath hitches, but you don't say anything. Fuck, that should've made you angry, but it just made your clit throb painfully hard. 

He drags his thumb down your tongue, slow and sensual. You have half the mind to suck on it until he glides the head of his cock on your tongue, leading it into the heat of your mouth. 

“Ah—” You lose the words you were going to say, along with the empty space in your mouth. The tip of his cock's nearing the back of your throat. You breathe shakily through your nose. You were right again—you can't take him fully in. It's enough of a stretch as it is. 

“Fuck, that's it…” Carmy sighs. “Just like that…”

His hand holding your hair turns into a tighter grip as you begin sucking up and down his cock. It's an awful mess, the size of him forcing spit to drip down your chin. It's not just that, though. He's thrusting his cock back into your mouth quicker and quicker. You wish he would slow down so you could lean back and suck on his dribbling tip, but his hand has you anchored. 

Time slows as he starts fucking your mouth. Your hands fall to your hands. Your knees are starting to hurt. You care surprisingly little about that fact, instead opting to care about rubbing your clit as quickly as possible. When you get your hands under your underwear, you find your whole pussy already smeared in wetness. You've seeped through the fabric. 

When he pulls his cock out of your mouth (or rather, when he tugs you off), you think he's going to give you a new order. Or that he's going to say something. You don't realize what's really happening until it's too late. 

You watch him bring a hand to his cock. He strokes it twice, keeping his hand tight in your hair, and with a low groan, he comes.

With his hand on you, you can't move away. Not that you try. When the first glob of cum streaks your cheek, you freeze. All you can do is pause as he comes on your face. Even your hand under your pants has frozen, your palm pressed up tight against your pulsing clit. 

With each rope of cum across your face, you feel yourself throb. Carmy is a sight to behold as he comes, long-lashed eyes falling shut with his parted, gasping mouth. He's jaggedly fisting his cock as he just keeps coming. You feel the cum starting to drip down the slopes of your skin, even your lips. 

By the time he's come down, he's left your face an absolute mess. Your jaw feels heavy, and his cum is hot against your swollen lips. You've come down as well, and it's left you with the irate realization that he just came all over your face without asking.

“You could've at least told me you were gonna come on my face,” you snap. Your cheeks are burning. Your argument feels weak with how worked up you feel over watching and feeling him come, but the irritation is still very real. 

“Clean your station, chef,” he responds, infuriatingly smug even as he catches your breath. “Practice makes perfect.”

“Are you kidding me?” Of course. That's what this all was. A fucked up lesson, a twisted sort of discipline. 

“I'm not.” He uncurls his fist from your hair. “Stand up—your knees must hurt.”

You pause for a second before you shakily get back up on your legs. One minute he's messily fucking your mouth, and the other, he's worrying over your sore knees. He continues to become more and more confusing. 

“You're gonna make me clean up your mess.” You catch your face in the small, shitty rectangular mirror hanging on the wall. God, are you a filthy sight, cum and spit all over your face. 

“I had to clean up yours for the past week, so yeah.” He's zipped himself back up. He's clean, not a drop of anything on him. Unlike the mess parading itself on your face. At least there's not any in your hair. 

“This is not the same. This is—” You frustratedly search for the right words. He's remaining as stoic as ever. “You didn't even kiss me,” you blurt out, and as soon as you say it, you regret it. 

Carmy stills. You can't tell what he's thinking with his unmoving expression. You're sure he's about to insult you again, but then he’s leaning in and sealing his lips against yours. 

You're stunned. A small noise escapes you as he kisses you deeply, thoroughly. His tongue drags up a trail of cum and spit up your chin and back into your mouth. Or back into his. You're unsure, with the way they're all blending together. 

“There,” Carmy murmurs against your lips. When he pulls back, you see his tongue running across his lips, collecting the pearlescent sheen that was on them. 

“Um—” You start and immediately stop. You’re speechless. 

“Now clean up.” You hear the sound of distant company. Your other coworkers must be arriving now. “I expect improvement now, chef. Is that clear?”

“Crystal,” you reply bitterly. “I suppose I met your expectations, then?”

“Sure. Closely enough, anyway.” Potent aggravation hits you like a cast iron pan. He drags his thumb in one last infuriating line across your cheek. He sucks it into his mouth and cleans it off. “Don't take too long. I have a lot planned for you today.”

Without waiting for a response, Carmy leaves. He leaves you alone in the shitty bathroom with a now flickering lightbulb, left to clean his cum on your face with water, hand soap, and thin paper towels. You don't know if you've ever been so angry before. 

The anger doesn't make the arousal go away. You rub your needy clit to orgasm, your back pressed up against the wall like Carmy's just a moment ago.

As you come with Carmy's cum slowly trailing on your face, you wonder if there is any coming back from this. If there's anything left to be done to stop whatever's happening. You can't come up with any solutions or suggestions. Only one thing is undeniably clear:

You hate Carmen Berzatto, and you're already thinking of ways to get his cock in your mouth again soon. 

~

taglist: @zorrasucia @carmenberzattosgf @thehouseofevangelista @alastorssimp @talas-starlight @jmamas92

[hungermakesmonsters]

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Six

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R  Chapter Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour in a semi-public place. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 4.7k

A/N : I think I've finally sorted the tagging issue.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE

MASTER LIST

Chapter Six

It felt like you were in a daze, like the night before had just been a fever dream. You’d almost been willing to write it off as a dream before you saw a note in your kitchen from Billy, telling you that the leftovers from dinner had been put in the refrigerator for you. There was no telling if he’d brought them through himself or if he’d had the maid do it, but you appreciated the gesture nonetheless. 

After your usual morning routine, you headed to the library to finally return Billy’s copy of Dorian Gray, exchanging it for Jane Eyre, another book that you’d never been allowed to read growing up.

By the time Billy emerged at sunset, you’d finished the leftovers and you were sitting on the sofa, with your nose buried in the book and your stuffed beagle on your lap. You’d even put tonight's blood in his thermal travel mug, hoping to keep it warm for him.

“Good evening,” he said as he joined you on the sofa, eyeing his travel mug before turning his attention to you and smiling all the more when he noticed the stuffed toy. “I hope I’m not interrupting the two of you.”

“Not at all, me and Bill were just reading.”

“Bill?” He laughed. “You can’t call him Bill.”

“But he’s Bill the Beagle,” you told him, biting your lip and trying your damnedest to stifle your own laughter. “It’s too late to change it, he’s used to it now.”

The both of you sat for a moment, trying to fight back the laughter but it didn’t last. You cracked first and, soon enough, the pair of you were laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. Just the sound of his laughter had you smiling. It was nice, precious even. It was only then that you realised that you didn’t hear him laugh very often, at least, not properly. He seemed happy, honestly happy with no hint of smugness.

“Is this for me?” He asked, reaching for the mug.

You nodded, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious at how much thought went into the gesture. “I just thought…”

“Thank you,” he offered, obviously sensing your discomfort and not wanting to force you to finish the thought. After taking a slow drink, his attention turned to the book on your lap. “So, what are you reading now?”

“Jane Eyre,” you answered and caught a questioning look from him. “What?”

“Nothing, it’s just very... apt.” 

“Is it?

“I wouldn’t want to spoil it for you,” he answered. Then, a beat later, he changed the subject. “I’d like to ask you something; I’m throwing a party here next month, and I’d very much like you to come. It’ll mean taking you for a new dress, of course, but -”

“A new dress?” You repeated, barely keeping up with all the information he was throwing your way. “But I already have so many.”

“I want you to have something special, something you picked for yourself. And it means an evening out of the penthouse,” Billy explained. You didn’t need to answer, he could tell just from the look on your face that you wanted to. “We can go on Wednesday.”

“Okay,” you smiled.

“Great, now that that’s settle, what do you want to do tonight?”

You fell silent, wondering if it was a trick question, if there was an expected answer. It’d be a lie to say that some part of you wasn’t hoping for a repeat of the night before, but you couldn’t say that.

“We could watch something?” You offered and Billy almost seemed taken aback by the simplicity of the suggestion. “Just - you know, because we talked a lot last night and I haven’t exactly done anything interesting today...”

“If that’s what you want to do,” he shrugged.

“We don’t have to, if you’d rather...” you trailed off, cheeks starting to warm.

Billy reached for you, fingers ghosting your cheek as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “No pressure or expectations, remember?” He told you softly. “If you want to watch a movie, we can watch a movie, okay?”

The only response you could give was a meek nod before quickly excusing yourself. When you returned a couple of minutes later, you had a blanket and a bowl of popcorn, explaining to Billy that they were crucial for a TV night. He nodded while fighting back a laugh and you realised that, while you’d been out of the room, he’d been and grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses. 

“Why don’t you find us something to watch?”  Billy asked, handing you the remote.

And then began five minutes of mindless scrolling through Netflix, watching trailers, and trying to find something that you’d both enjoy.

“What about this one?” You asked, lingering on Black Sails, a show that caught your attention because it was about pirates and you’d been interested in pirates ever since you’d  secretly read Treasure Island as a child. “It’s a series but... well, we’ve got all year, right? Maybe we could watch TV together more often?”

For a moment, he just looked at you, the smile on his lips growing, like you were offering him far more than the occasional night in front of the TV.

“Okay, let’s watch some pirates,” he agreed, filing the two wine glasses and handing you one of them.

When you’d chosen the show, you’d thought that you’d be able to watch and talk but, within five minutes, you were hooked. 

It wasn’t long before Billy was awkwardly reaching across, trying to steal your popcorn, prompting you to edge closer and closer until you were pressed against his side. You were so caught up in the show that you barely noticed Billy draping his arm around you or the way your head had ended up resting on his shoulder. 

One episode finished and another started, then another. You made little comments to each other, but after the popcorn and wine were gone, you were mostly silent. There was more sex and nudity than you’d expected and you felt your cheeks warm every time. If Billy noticed, he was nice enough not to say anything about it. But, aside from that, you were enjoying it; you were enjoying the whole night. It was nice. And Billy seemed to be enjoying it too.

“Oh, now I see why you’re watching this,” Billy joked when a particularly muscled and shirtless pirate appeared on screen. You pulled a face. “What? He not your type?”

“I don’t have a type,” you confessed, playfully nudging him with your elbow. 

Billy retaliated by nudging you back and things seemed to escalate from there. You gave him a shove and he pushed back, his hand discovering a ticklish spot on your side and, once Billy realised you were ticklish, it was game over. You squealed as he started to tickle you, laughing and pushing against him but, somehow, you ended up on your back with him above you. The tickling continued for a moment, but it soon turned into kissing.

“What is it about you?” he asked softly. “How do you make me want like this?” 

Before you could answer his lips were on yours again, the kiss more eager than the last. He pressed closer, his hips between your thighs, and you soon felt the increasingly familiar press of his erection against you. A soft sound slipped from your lips and into his, your heart hammering in your chest.

“The things I want to do to you,” he muttered, lips pulling from yours to your neck, kissing and sucking, leaving little marks in your skin. “The ways I want you,” he continued. “I’d ruin you. I’d make you feel things you’ve never felt before.”

It sounded insane but that didn’t stop you from wanting it, craving it.

Your hips pushed up against his while your fingertips pressed against his spine, holding him against you. A loud moan spilled from your lips when he pressed back, causing your body to tremble, your back arching against him of its own accord.

His head lifted from your neck, his dark eyes looked down at you, his jaw tense. 

“I want to make you mine,” but this time it wasn’t Billy’s voice, it was something closer to the way he’d sounded that night in the kitchen when he’d been hungry.

Every fibre of your being suddenly tensed, your heart stuttered and your breath caught. Your eyes were wide as he leaned to roughly press his lips to yours, his tongue dominating the kiss. His hips pressed down against yours again, grinding his clothed cock against you.

“I want to make you scream my name.” He growled before sinking against your lips again.

The whimper that escaped you next wasn’t one of pleasure, it was shock and, if you were honest, a little bit of fear. But that little sound seemed to be enough to snap Billy out of it.

His lips pulled from yours suddenly, and he buried his face against your neck. He was still and silent for a few seconds. All you could hear was your own panted breaths and the echo of your pounding heart in your ears.

The shock lingered but the fear was quick to dissipate. He’d stopped. You hadn’t even had to ask him to. He’d stopped the moment he realised that you were uncomfortable, even though you could still feel how unfulfilled he was. 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered against your neck, then again; “I’m sorry.”

Your mind was racing, between this and the night in the kitchen, you didn’t know what to think. He’d been hungry that night - at least, that was the excuse you’d given for his behaviour, but now it was starting to seem like it might be something else entirely.

“Are you -” you dared to quietly ask, “- okay?”

“No,” he answered and that one broken syllable shattered your heart.

Without hesitation or pause to think, you started to run your fingers through his hair, wanting to soothe whatever it was inside of him that was hurting. You heard him take an uncomfortable breath, but you didn’t stop. 

After a few minutes, he finally started to relax a little.

“It’s okay,” you muttered. “You didn’t hurt me.”

His head lifted slowly and the look on his face caused your stomach to knot.

“I could have,” he told you, looking almost sick at the thought.

Finally, he moved, pulling away from you and sitting up, his head in his hands. You followed suit, sitting beside him, giving him a moment of silence to think.

But that silence quickly felt deafening and you felt worse for the part you’d played. You hadn’t expected the things he’d said and they’d unsettled you a little, but that was all. You weren’t used to men being so forward and borderline aggressive about their desires. But he’d stopped. He hadn’t done any of the things he said. He hadn’t hurt you. He certainly hadn’t forced you into anything.

“You could hurt me right now,” you stated. “You could’ve hurt me last night, or that night in the kitchen, but you didn’t. And I don’t think you will. I get that I’m fragile and weak, and that worries you, but -”

“I don’t think you’re fragile or weak,” he told you, lifting his head and fixing his gaze on you. “You’re not either of those things.”

It was your turn to drop your gaze, cheeks warming as you shook your head.

“Hey, look at me,” he said, and you did as he asked. “You being here is proof that you’re not

weak. Taking this job, being stuck here with me for a year, there’s nothing weak about any of that.”

Your head shook again. “You don’t understand. You were right, I am running away. I’m here because I wasn’t strong enough to do anything else.”

“Everything you’ve done since you got here - standing up to me, the night you helped me, that was reckless and dangerous. It was brave.” He told you, not giving you a chance to argue. “So, no, it’s not because I think you’re fragile and weak. It’s me, I...” he sighed, “I told you, control is an issue for me.”

Cautiously, you reached for him, taking his hand between yours and holding it tight. 

“I didn’t even have to ask you to stop, Billy,” you told him softly. “You stopped yourself before you took things too far. You were in control. And I - I don’t know, it’s not like I was scared, I’m just not used to things being that... intense.” You watched him swallow awkwardly and decided to cut him off before he could speak. “Why don’t we rewind this episode and finish watching?”

He gave an uncertain grumble and you reached for the remote, winding back the last fifteen minutes of the show, back to the last thing you remembered. Sitting back, you grabbed Bill the Beagle and pulled your blanket back up over your legs, and when Billy finally sat back, you snuggled into his side again. And, eventually, he wrapped his arm around you again.

The rest of the night passed without incident. Your eyes started to close and, for a few minutes, you even drifted off. Billy woke you with a gentle kiss on the forehead.

“Bedtime, sleepyhead,” he muttered softly, and you reluctantly agreed, stifling a yawn as you got to your feet. “I should see you briefly tomorrow, but I’m needed in the office pretty early.”

Nodding, you headed for your rooms, saying goodnight before leaving him.

True to his word, the next day you saw him at sunset for a few minutes on his way out. On Tuesday, he was almost late leaving because he pulled you into a hot and heavy makeout session in the kitchen that seemed to suggest he was frustrated about not getting to see you. But then Wednesday rolled around, and it was time for Billy to take you dress shopping.

The moment you stepped into the elevator with him, he took your hand in his and kept hold of it all the way down to the parking garage below the building, leading you to his car and opening the door for you. You’d never been in a Rolls Royce before, and you caught Billy smiling as you looked around the car in wonder as your fastened your seatbelt.

It wasn’t a long drive to the dress shop - a large boutique affair, filled with bespoke pieces as well as off-the-rack gowns and dresses. And, while you’d been in fancy dress stores before, you found yourself taken aback. Usually at times like this, you’d have your mother at your side, and she always had an idea of what you were supposed to wear; what colours were acceptable and how much skin a decent woman should show.

“Mr Russo, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” one of the assistants said as she approached.

You watched as she approached Billy and he kissed her cheeks in, what you could only describe as, a Parisian fashion. He introduced you and she took a step back, looking you up and down. Next to her you felt more child than woman - she was obviously a vampire, with perfect skin and hair that fell in natural tight ringlets, framing her face. She was another example of the stunning women who seemed to gravitate around Billy.

But it was her looking at you in an appraising way that really caught you off guard.

“Your pictures really didn’t do you justice,” she remarked and you quickly looked at Billy for clarification. 

“Hannah picked your wardrobe,” he explained.

“Oh.” Suddenly you found yourself looking down, thinking about the outfit you’d put together - jeans, a blouse and boots - wondering what the person who’d chosen all the items thought of how you’d decided to wear them.

“Why don’t you have a look around, see what speaks to you?” Hannah offered.

Billy gave a wave of his hand, indicating for you to do just that and, slowly you started to move towards the racks of dresses. It wasn’t long before you were looking at the sorts of dresses your mother might have picked for you; a-line dresses that showed a hint of your waist and with necklines high enough to cover any and all cleavage. You could practically hear her voice in your head telling you how no respectable man would ever want you if we went around showing too much skin.

While you looked, a bottle of champagne was opened and two glasses were filled; one for you and one for Billy. He kept hold of your glass while you looked around.

You pulled one dress out and looked at it front and back. It was like every other dress you’d had since you’d started to grow into your figure. It felt safe but boring, like it wasn’t really you but what you thought was expected of you. But you weren’t that person anymore - at least, you were trying not to be.

“If you don’t mind me saying, with your figure, I’d suggest something a little more fitted, something with some slink.” Hannah offered.

“Slink?” You repeated, looking at Billy, wondering what he thought.

“I think you’d look lovely in a slinky dress.”

“Can you help me choose?” You asked Hannah. “I don’t know where to even start.”

Rather than the expected look of judgement, Hannah just smiled. “Of course. Why don’t you and Mr Russo go sit down and I’ll put together a collection for you to try.”

“That would be brilliant, thank you Hannah,” Billy answered for you, handing you a glass.

Fifteen minutes later, you were in a fitting room the size of a small bedroom, looking through a whole rail of dresses. You started with a black dress, but hated it the moment it was on, then you half pulled on a short red dress but decided that you couldn’t stand the colour. Then you started to rummage through the rail again.

Your attention was quickly drawn to a  silver number, and finally you understood what Hannah had meant by slink. It had thin spaghetti straps and a neckline that plunged to a couple of inches above your belly button, and a slit running up one side from ankle almost right to your hip. Even the back of the dress hung low. 

You pulled it on and looked at yourself awkwardly in the mirror. Because of the way the dress was cut, you had to remove your bra to get a real idea of how the dress was supposed to look. You stood on tiptoes and turned this way and that, not sure what to think.

“How’s it going?” Billy called from outside.

You stayed silent for a few moments before sighing. “I don’t know,” you called back.

“Need a second opinion?”

You poked your head around the door, the awkward discomfort on your face drawing a sympathetic smile from Billy. He waited a beat before getting to his feet, you felt your cheeks warming as he approached you. You remained hidden behind the door, not sure you wanted him to see.

“I look ridiculous,” you pouted.

“Are you gonna let me see?” He asked, a hint of laughter in his tone. You shook your head and he gently pressed against the door with his hand. “Come on, let me see.”

For a moment more, you held the door in place before finally stepping back and letting the door swing open so he could see you. When he didn’t immediately say something, you took another step back.

“You hate it.”

“What? No, I’m speechless,” he told you, stepping forwards, closing the gap between you. “You look amazing.”

“I feel like a kid playing dress up.”

He kicked the door shut behind him as he stepped into the fitting room, his gaze roving up and down your body. Clearing the distance between you, he placed his hands on your hips, turning you to face towards the mirror.

“Look,” he instructed in a low voice, spoken into your ear, and you did as you were told, looking at your reflection. “You only feel like a kid because that’s how you’ve let people see you. But that’s not what I see. I see a sexy, elegant woman. I see curves and tits that get me hard, and it kills me that you don’t realise how amazing you are.”

His lips pressed to your neck before you could respond and your breath caught, watching your reflections. 

Whether it was his words or the way he was touching you, he made you feel more confident, like you really could wear the dress and not be seen as ridiculous. You pressed against him and felt his cock against your hip, and that felt like all the proof you needed that he meant what he was saying.

His hands began to move, one pressing against your stomach while the other moved to rest over your racing heart. You took a breath, filled with a sort of wanting that only he seemed to bring out in you. Not giving yourself a moment to second guess, you reached behind him, palming his erection through the fabric of his dark jeans.

“Can I -” you started quietly, voice little more than a whisper, cheeks starting to heat. Billy stared at you in the mirror, expectant but patient, letting you find the nerve to finish. “Can I touch you?”

He smirked at you through the mirror as he undid the fastenings of his jeans and pulled his cock out. Your eyes widened, watching everything through the mirror because you were too embarrassed to look down. Billy took your hand in his and wrapped it around his shaft, and you started to stroke him slowly. And, when your gaze dropped, you found Billy’s fingers beneath your chin, urging your head up.

“Don’t be shy,” he muttered in your ear, his breath catching as your thumb brushed over the tip of his cock. “See how amazing you look right now, taking what you want?”

You bit your lip, watching his reflection, seeing the way his jaw went slack as his breathing got heavier in your ear. Once he was certain you weren’t going to look away, his hand moved from your chin to your breast, slipping beneath the fabric of the dress. 

“You look so fucking good in this dress,” he groaned, returning his lips to your neck, “so confident and sexy. You’ve got no idea what I want to do to you right now.”

His hand moved, slipping one of the thin straps down your arm, causing the front of the dress to fall, exposing your breast to him. Your hand faltered for a moment, cheeks burning hotter.

“Don’t you dare look away,” he husked in your ear, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror. There was a seriousness about him that sent a shiver down your spine despite the smile on his lips.

Your hand started moving quicker as his cold hand moved to grope you again. And, finally, you started to see it; when you looked at your reflection, you didn’t see the shy, embarrassed girl, you saw the woman who had Billy Russo, desperate and groaning, in the palm of her hand. You felt almost powerful, filled with a kind of confidence you’d never been allowed to feel before, and it was all thanks to Billy.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he grunted, face pressed against your neck. Your hand moved quicker as his body started to tense. “Oh, shit...”

You felt him twitch in your hand and watched him come undone. It was a beautiful sight, even if you did go straight back to feeling embarrassed once it was over.

“Are you going to try any of the others?” He asked, pulling the strap back onto your shoulder and straightening the dress, before tucking himself back into his jeans.

“I don’t think I’ll like any of them as much as I like this one.”

“I don’t think I will either,” Billy agreed, smirking at your reflection. “Why don’t you get changed and we’ll have Hannah help you find some shoes.”

You nodded and Billy pressed one more kiss to your neck before pulling away from you. He left to speak to Hannah and, for a moment, you couldn’t even move. You kept your eyes on the mirror and the woman that was staring back at you; was that really you? Could you be the confident woman who took what you wanted? Eventually your gaze dropped, realising that Billy had managed to get cum on the mirror.

That got you moving.

You quickly, but carefully, dropped the dress and started to pull your clothes back on when, suddenly, the door opened and someone stepped in.

“Sorry, I -” you started to speak but stopped the moment she lifted her fingers to her lips.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” she explained in a hushed whisper. “My name is Agent Madani, I’m with Homeland Security, and I believe you’re in danger.”

“What? I -” you took a step back, head shaking. 

“Are you being kept against your will?”

“No, I - it’s my job, I -” you didn’t get to finish.

“Your parents believe that you’ve been kidnapped,” she sounded almost confused at the revelation you were there of your own free will.

“No, I left home. It was my choice,” you told her. “They don’t know I’m here, do they?” Your voice quickly turned frantic, trying to make sense of what was happening. Surely your parents wouldn’t have been able to get Homeland to look for you.

“No, they don’t know yet -”

“Yet? They can’t know at all,” you pleaded. “Please.”

“Your parents aren’t why I’m here,” she continued quietly. “Has Russo said anything to you about the other women who’ve worked for him?”

“No, I just know that they quit because they didn’t want to work for him anymore,” you tried to explain, your mind racing.

“Three of them are missing. All presumed dead,” she told you. “Each went to work for Russo and haven’t been seen since.”

“Billy wouldn’t, he’s not -” you stopped abruptly, noticing her eyes finding the mess Billy had left on the mirror and obviously putting the pieces together. When she looked back up, you could barely hold her gaze.

“Have you seen anything suspicious? Has he tried to feed from you without permission?” She asked. “Is he forcing you to sleep with him?”

“No - no, nothing like that. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you told her, so confused by everything she was trying to tell you.

“You need to be careful. He can’t know that we’ve had this conversation. He’s dangerous -” a noise outside the fitting room seemed to spook her, “- I’ll be in touch again soon. Don't worry, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

And, then, just as quickly as she’d appeared, she left. 

Your mind was reeling over everything she’d said. It seemed insane, ridiculous. Billy had been nothing but kind to you, nothing but careful and considerate. You couldn’t imagine him hurting anyone. There had to be some other explanation.

You must have been taking too long because, soon enough, Billy appeared at the door again. 

“Are you alright? You’re not having second thoughts about the dress are you?” He asked with that soft smile that caused butterflies in your stomach.

“N-no, sorry... I guess I just got distracted,” you told him, deciding not to mention Madani to him, not knowing how he’d take it.

“Come on,” he offered you his hand, “Hannah’s picked out some shoes for you to look at.”

There was something about him in that moment, something about the way he was smiling at you that made you want to believe the best in him. After all, you’d met monsters before, and Billy Russo just didn’t seem to fit the bill. 

Grabbing the dress, you took his hand and let him lead you across the store to look at shoes. Agent Madani was nowhere to be seen and, for that evening at least, you decided to try and forget all about it. Tomorrow you’d be having lunch with Karen, maybe you’d be able to find out something then. But, in that moment, you were content to hold his hands and look at shoes, trying to forget the stain on an otherwise amazing evening. 

End Note : Dun-dun-duuuuuunnnnnnnn. I have nothing to say because I don't want to potentially spoil what I've got planned. But, yeah, I decided that reader and Billy should watch Black Sails together because it's been showing up on my dash a lot and it's an a+ show if you haven't seen it already.

As always, thanks so much for reading (and also thank you so much for all the new followers) I've really loved all the feedback from this fic and for my last fic, and you've all just been wonderful.

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt. (I think I've found a way to get tagging to work properly again, please let me know if it doesn't tag you.)

Tag List : @vaguekayla @thdcre @rensolodriver @house-husband-of-castlemurdock

@snowkestrel @danzer8705 @noortsshift @aoi-targaryen @lincerad

@vxnity713 @readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure @dreadfulxives18 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @glamourbabe17

@sweetserendipity65 @damagelove @strangerfromketterdam @a-starrynightwith-u @readingabouthim

@countryday @weepingwitchofthewest @broadwaybabe18 @bunnygirlwriter876 @oliviaewl

@rosey1981 @benbarnesprettygurl

[btsmosphere]

Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 6: Burn Out

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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: When things get ahead of you, your powers aren’t the only things to spill over; some truth is ready to breach the surface.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 7k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, swearing, minor injuries, self-doubt, over-training, loss of control and... awkwardness

a/n: this could have been two chapters, and I did think about it, but fuck it, you guys deserve a nice hefty update! this just means there's a fair bit of development ahead...

“At least Namjoon didn’t blow out any of the lightbulbs. Those are a nightmare to replace.”

Jimin smiled weakly when you didn’t respond to his joke. His worried gaze travelled to V, who stood behind you. He shrugged.

With a sigh, Jimin sat back. You hadn’t looked him in the eye as he checked your wounds, too caught up thinking. About the ways Jungkook was stronger than you. The ways you messed up. If only you had more stamina, if only you could shoot quicker, use more power.

The fight replayed in your head, displaying all the moments you could have responded better.

Was Jungkook right? Were you anywhere near ready to go out there?

“All done.”

You blinked, finding Jimin staring back at you. How long had he been waiting?

“Oh. Thanks,” you tried your best to muster a smile.

Sending you a smile in return, he stood up, placing the first aid box into the cupboard.

“It’s alright. At least you got out relatively unscathed,” he said, “just some bruises, a couple of singes here and there.”

He winced again at the sight of the faint bruising on your neck. Though he wished he could say this wasn’t like the Jungkook he knew, he would be lying.

Jungkook hurt people all the time: all of them did. But here, at home, he was usually at ease with their little family. After everything he had been through, however, Jimin knew very well how short his youngest brother’s fuse could be.

A quiet click announced the newcomer as Hobi poked his head round the bathroom door.

“Everything alright?” he asked.

It fell a little awkwardly in the space. Nothing was alright after tensions had boiled over so violently just half an hour ago, and you all knew it. Still, you gave him a nod.

Slipping into the room, Hope leaned against the counter, dodging out of the way as Jimin threw a few band-aid wrappers in the bin.

“Sorry about Jungkook,” Hope began, “he… he’s a bit protective. But we thought it would get better. It should never have got this far.

“You can do whatever you want today, get food and watch movies. I should think Kook will be training for quite a while.”

The way he said that left no doubt as to what the younger was actually doing. Images from his rage workout the other day invaded your head. Good, as long as he was away from you.

Tugging your hoodie back on to cover the bruises you had acquired, you agreed and followed the others to the living room. Soon taking up residency on the couch, you didn’t intend on moving anywhere soon.

Thankfully, the others didn’t expect you to either. Nor did they push you for conversation when you were so evidently staying quiet, and instead they put a film on and chatted around you.

You didn’t see Jungkook that whole day.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t lingering in your mind, though. At the very least, the slight discomfort from the bruises he had given you served as a reminder of everything that had transpired. But your frustration fluctuated between him and yourself.

If Jungkook’s behaviour could be excused as protective, you were going to need a lot more explanation than that. What reason had you given him to hate you so much?

He hadn’t given you the chance to do anything but fail since you got there, so how could you be expected to trust him?

But while you wanted him to see that you could be trusted, you started to doubt that yourself. Maybe you were trying to help the boys by joining them, but as much as you wanted to deny it, Jungkook had proved that you were weak.

For now, you didn’t want to go near him, so you used that as your excuse for staying put all day, letting the household go about its day around you. But steadily, your mind filled with all the things you needed to work on. You had to patch up the gaps where your powers lacked, and you weren’t going to rely on Jungkook to do it anymore.

Maybe if you proved yourself, they would want you after all? Besides showing your lack of bond with Jungkook, today had surely showed Namjoon that you weren’t up to the task.

That was why he had stood you down.

Which was why you found yourself alone in a training room a few days later.

Since that day, you hadn’t trained. For one thing, your trainer had cemented his place as your mortal enemy, so you had no one to practise your powers with, since the others were all preparing for other things.

As for physical training, you thought they would at least let you do that. But they insisted you needed to rest for a couple more days.

You didn’t protest too much, but you knew this was how it would begin. This was their excuse to stop you training. They had given up on you, thinking you weren’t good enough to join them.

You were going to show them, Jungkook above all.

Now they were away on a mission, Jungkook nowhere to be found, leaving you the opportunity at last.

With the way the last outing had gone, they had switched plans. Now, instead of waiting around for Bolt to strike, they were beginning to relocate their allies, moving important weapons and things to more secure locations, while feeding Bolt’s informants the impression that the vacated premises were still operational. They hoped it would buy some time so they could formulate more of a plan to combat Bolt, without him gaining more power in the meantime.

Of course, Jungkook was still seething. He had made himself scarce the moment the others left, no doubt wanting to avoid spending any time with you.

You weren’t complaining.

Breathing deeply, you assessed the targets you had set up. A smile graced your face. The last time you had trained alone, you had accomplished a lot. Maybe you would try lifting objects again.

But first, you had to work on your speed. That was the main weaknesses Jungkook had highlighted. You weren’t able to keep up with him, and you had to change that.

Rolling out your stiff shoulders, wincing for a moment when it twinged the last remnants of your bruises, you raised an arm.

Your power felt a little rusty as it burst from your palm. Gritting your teeth against the slight tingle of pain, you cut it off and fired again. After a few tries, it felt pretty much normal. You weren’t going to wait any longer.

Lifting both arms now, you alternated your fire, turning in the space as you tried to hit each target. You hit them all, bolstering your confidence as you took a breather and went again. You may have hit them all, but you wanted to be faster.

This time, you didn’t even wait for one bolt to die away before you fired the next one. Focussing on short, sharp bursts, you let your powers pulse through the air.

The rattle and clash of metal filled the space as you shook each target in turn.

You made it around the room again, finding a rhythm, but this time you didn’t stop. Bolt wouldn’t stop if he was attacking you; Jungkook hadn’t. You had to push through.

So when you approached the familiar feeling of your powers slipping, you simply pushed through. You maintained your speed, barely able to keep up with the pace you had set. It was like running while the ground was slipping from under you, but you stayed standing and on your toes, enjoying the exhilaration of the electricity flowing through you.

You felt its power, hot and fierce in your chest, revelling in your ability to control it.

Then, one bolt sputtered and died. You picked it up again in a split second as you fired the next lightning into the space, but it scared you. Picturing the onslaught of gold from the other day, you knew that could cost you dearly in a fight.

So while your powers protested, you pressed on. Now, you had to force out each beam of light, but you weren’t about to stop. You had to improve. You had to succeed.

You didn’t notice when the heat of your powers became unpleasant. That burning sensation hadn’t invaded you for so long, but suddenly it was overwhelming, crashing down on you.

Gasping at the sharp pain, you staggered for a moment, not wanting to stop.

You raised your arm again. This would not defeat you. You had to push through.

Nothing came.

You searched for the familiar feeling to unleash your power, but instead you felt a tangle in your chest, a sparking ball of electricity that hissed at you like a wild animal.

Not now…

A stabbing pain lanced through your chest, blue suddenly erupting into the air. But this time it wasn’t you. Your power clawed its way down your arm, leaving a burning trail in its wake.

Biting down on a pained cry, you looked around in fear at the empty training room.

Though panicked, you knew you had to control it. You had pushed just a little too far, you only needed to reign it in again.

But as you closed your eyes, trying to find the centre of your power, shut it off like you were used to, more blasts leapt from that chasm in your chest. You battled to close it down, but it had power over you now.

Blue filled the space, colliding with the walls, clattering against targets.

Your knees buckled, sending you crashing to the floor. Now, you were unable to control it as you cried out, each release of your power coming with its own wave of pain. You thought you had left this unbearable heat behind, but now it seared through your body with a vengeance as your powers ran rampant.

Control it, control it-

But you couldn’t find space to breathe, let alone to calm your powers. Your arms shook, a tear breaking free from your eye as you gasped.

What had you done?

In your vision, blurry with pained tears and cut up by streaks of luminescent blue, something moved.

Though you lay panting on the floor, you squinted towards it. It was a person.

Were the others back? Your frazzled mind barely had time to wonder this, before the most pressing issue asserted itself again.

Wincing and curling in on yourself as another shot of electricity forced its way from you, you called out. Your voice was raw and shaking, but you had to protect them.

“Don’t come near! I’ll- I might hurt you!”

You knew your voice was thick with tears, but surely they could understand you? Why were they coming closer?

At the same time, both a yelp of pain and a lightning bolt escaped you. Your eyes widened; the figure was directly in its path.

A flash of gold.

The figure ran closer.

Despite your state, you had enough presence of mind to feel your cheeks burning as Jungkook came to a stop in front of you, looking down at you with wide, panicked eyes. For a few seconds, his mouth opened and closed uselessly.

Then, another bolt. And another.

As they cut through the room, leaving behind their signature of burning pain, the world tilted. Your eyes squeezed shut, Jungkook forgotten as the sizzling sting of your powers took up your thoughts.

You wanted it to stop.

“Control it.”

The instruction was muttered in your ear, closer than you expected. The next moment, a weight shifted against your back, pulling you to sit upright and against something. Someone.

Still heaving for air, you shook your head.

“I- I c-can’t!”

Another flash of blue, another flash of pain.

The arm that was looped around you squeezed tighter.

“You have to. Control it.”

And then a hand was placed against your back, steady and firm compared to your own body. It nestled between your shoulder blades.

The next thing you knew, a warm sensation bloomed there. But not uncomfortable, like your own rebelling powers. It bled through you, enveloping the mess that your powers had become. Your eyes slid closed, basking in the relief from the searing pain.

You could feel your powers, a blue weight sitting in your chest. You couldn’t see them, of course, but you had always felt them to be blue – not that you had realised. Not until now, at least, because the calming light that surrounded your power felt startlingly gold in comparison.

After a moment, you were collected enough to take control. With the aid of soothing gold containing your power, you were able to breathe deeply, closing off the electricity as you had done that first time in Namjoon’s office.

The gold faded.

Still, the hand on your back lingered, remaining steady.

“Okay?”

It was only now that the weight of this situation hit you. Jungkook had had to rescue you. From your own powers, no less.

You simply nodded, not trusting words to form.

At your confirmation, his hand finally left you. He had been sitting behind you, supporting you, but now he moved away. You would deny that you missed it.

But he only shifted around to your side, sliding an arm under your own.

“Are you crazy?” he asked, but there wasn’t much bite behind it.

Shaking his head, he muttered a curse as he helped lift you from the ground.

“What were you thinking?”

Again, the usual venom was missing from his voice. You kept your eyes down, not responding.

Huffing a little, he turned towards to the door. And paused.

“Can you get upstairs?”

Chewing on your lip, you kept your eyes fixed on your mug. You found the blanket you were wrapped in very interesting all of a sudden, fiddling and tugging at it with your free hand.

It was quiet.

It had been quiet for a while now, but neither of you were particularly inclined to change that.

Jungkook sat across from you, stiff and upright in his seat while you were huddled inside a blanket. He had sort of thrown it at you earlier. He hadn’t given you a second glance, instructing you rather coldly to sit, but it had to be the closest thing to affection he had ever shown you.

He was also holding a mug of tea. Perhaps it was just for show; he hadn’t lifted it once.

In a moment of weakness, your eyes darted up. You instantly regretted it, as you found his gaze already trained on you, and you both hurriedly averted your eyes again.

Just for something to do, you took a sip of tea, the slurp painfully audible in the silence. Your hand still shook a little when you lifted the mug.

Lowering it slowly, you chewed on your cheek.

“Thanks.”

You blurted it out without much consideration, the silence finally becoming too much for you.

Unfortunately, the quiet hung around a bit longer. Warily raising your eyes again, you watched Jungkook for a reaction.

His eyes were avoiding you, looking instead at a blank spot on the wall.

Then he sucked in a breath, leaning forwards to deposit his still-full mug on the coffee table.

“So do you want to tell me what you were doing?”

Finally his eyes turned to you, leaving you breathless. Your shame over what happened made words stick in your throat, but you knew you would have to explain.

Tearing your gaze from his to glare at your mug again, you felt your cheeks heating up. But you forced yourself to talk.

“You… you were right the other day. I’m not strong enough, or fast enough. I was trying to work on that – on my speed. I thought if I pushed myself, it might help. But I… I just lost control.”

Letting out a breath when you finished speaking, you looked up hesitantly. A light frown was on Jungkook’s face as he assessed you. He was thinking a little too hard for your liking.

He sat back.

“You remind me of Bolt.”

If you were still drinking, you would have choked. Your eyes widened, not knowing how to respond to that. In your search for words, all you could manage was an indignant but half-hearted excuse me?

A smirk quirked the corner of Jungkook’s mouth.

“You’re so pig-headed,” he began, “you treat your powers like some sort of game and pretend you’re good at everything…”

You simply stared, disbelieving. Was he seriously saying this to your face?

“And when you want something, you decide you’re getting it–” he eyed you before adding “–not to mention all the blue shit.”

He gestured in the general direction of all of you. You gaped.

But then he dropped his gaze, sighing.

“I… wanted to knock you down. You’re way too good at everything. You remind me of Bolt because he’s indestructible. Or it seems that way.”

Finally managing to scoff at his words, you shook your head incredulously.

“So now you think I’m good enough?”

“I didn’t want you going out there, okay?” he snapped, “I don’t trust you.”

“Just because my powers look like Bolt’s? Is that it? I never asked for this-”

“I know.”

Jungkook’s voice was softer now, startling your rant to a halt. His hands were clasped, elbows resting on his knees. And he wouldn’t quite look you in the eye.

“You’re not like Bolt. He’s the one that hurt you. I just couldn’t separate the image of you from him, what with you being so… obnoxious, and determined.”

He paused. Sighed.

“And I lied, okay?” his voice was quiet, “you’re fine. Your speed is good, you could pretty much keep up with me, and that’s saying something. I thought you’d know better.”

A frown creased your brows together. Now you were confused.

Looking up once again, he met your eyes.

“You shouldn’t push your powers, surely the others told you that? They can reach their limit, and I’m fairly sure yours did when we fought. Today was too soon, you shouldn’t have worn them out like that. You won’t be able to use them for a while. Not like that, anyway.”

“Like what?”

“Fast. You overwhelmed them, it might take a bit to build up your speed again.”

You swallowed, not wanting to believe his words.

“Or, you just want me out of training-” you bit back, but he cut you off.

“Oh, I couldn’t care less,” he sniggered, “go ahead and burn out your powers for all I care. I’m just telling you.”

You didn’t really know what to say to that. You simply tugged your blanket a little tighter around your shoulders.

“Turns out you’re human just like the rest of us.”

Was that supposed to be a compliment? Or an insult? You couldn’t really tell.

After a moment holding his gaze, you went back to your tea. The two of you seemed to agree on one thing at least, and that was avoiding each other’s eyes as the silence stretched on.

Even once your mug was emptied, you fidgeted with it, letting your fingers slide around the handle for something to do. Jungkook’s words turned over in your head. It was probably the closest he had ever come to giving you actual advice. Perhaps you should take it, give your powers a rest for a short while.

It surprised you that Jungkook hadn’t yet left. He looked remarkably awkward on the other couch, refusing to relax into the seat but sitting ramrod straight on the edge instead, insisting for some reason on staying there.

Never before had he voluntarily endured your presence for this long.

He seemed to notice you sizing him up. He turned his gaze to find you watching him with your head tilted. And somehow, he too looked hesitant, far from the confidence you usually saw in him.

You swallowed, but didn’t look away.

“Don’t tell the others?”

Your voice was quiet but clear in the space. Jungkook quirked an eyebrow.

“You’re really determined to join us, aren’t you?”

With a sigh, your expression softened. You finally looked away, picking absently at your blanket while you replied.

“I agree with what you guys are doing. Bolt tried to kill me, all because I was just… there, at the wrong time. I didn’t matter to him. That doesn’t seem like someone who cares about protecting people. So I don’t want him to get whatever he wants with those weapons he’s collecting.”

Expecting the usual argument about you being of no use, you kept your eyes stubbornly down. But Jungkook was quiet.

If you looked up, you would have seen him blinking at you. Curious, almost.

But you never did, not until his expression clouded over again and he made to speak.

“And if the others knew you did something this stupid, they’d keep you away from the action even longer.”

You rolled your eyes, but had to admit that Jungkook wasn’t wrong.

“Pretty much,” you conceded, “and I do want this. It finally feels like I have a purpose.”

You had never expected to be so blisteringly honest with Jungkook, but when you laid beseeching eyes on him, you knew you had got through somehow.

Seemingly displeased with his own decision, his mouth straightened into a line.

“Fine. I won’t tell them. But you better not do it again, you know I’ll get the blame as well.”

You weren’t sure if that was entirely true, but if Jungkook wanted to make that his reason for helping you out, then so be it.

At last, it seemed he had reached his limit with you. He stood abruptly, casting one more glance at you, and strode away. Watching his retreating form, you sunk further into the sofa. A subtle smile took up residence on your face.

You hadn’t even put the tv on. Silence filled the apartment and you stared up at the ceiling from your position on the sofa.

Since you and Jungkook talked a few days ago, he had, surprisingly, kept his word. Around the others he stoically ignored you as normal, but also diligently kept his mouth shut about your little accident.

You suspected he also didn’t want to admit to helping you. But whatever kept him quiet worked for you.

It was true that he glanced over at you more often despite his continued frosty attitude towards you. Or perhaps you were imagining that? He was just glaring at you like always – only, you began to read into it too much. Now you two shared a secret, in a sense, it meant that every time his eyes locked with yours they seemed to hold more significance.

However, you had to remind yourself nothing had changed. The two of you were still only here because you were stuck together on Namjoon’s orders. Which was the same reason Jungkook had been the one to help you before.

No, nothing had changed.

Turning your head, you let your cheek fall against the cushion as you hesitantly gazed at the tv. Maybe you should put it on, just to fill the silence?

The lack of noise in the house served as proof that Jungkook wanted as little to do with you as ever. The moment the boys were out, he made himself scarce.

At least you had been permitted to learn more about what exactly they were doing when they went out. They were leaving the house more and more frequently, and for longer stretches of time. Given Bolt’s movements, and his startling power at their last encounter (due to the weapons he had stolen from Kuyang), the boys were launching a counter-operation.

If they couldn’t defend their allies from a direct attack, they had to bide their time until they could build an attack strategy.

So for now, they were relocating important developers to throw Bolt off. Stop him before he could gain even more power; before he became too much of a match for them.

Jin seemed fairly confident that they had tracked Bolt’s sources well enough to feed him misinformation to keep him unaware of their movements. The only risk now lay in the transportation of what you could only assume were deadly weapons through the city.

Standing on the kitchen counter was a small black receiver. You could turn it on if you wanted, hear what was happening.

You were contemplating it when something pulled at your thoughts. Your focus frayed, distracted by that incomprehensible feeling that there was someone behind you.

Flipping over on the sofa, you found Jungkook leaning against the wall. His arms were folded, but there was no glare entrenched on his face. Startled, you eyed his damp hair, the oversized black shirt hanging from his shoulders.

Clearly he had just come from a shower, so why wasn’t he going to train?

The absence of a scowl was really throwing you off. He didn’t look totally comfortable, expression tight and slightly expectant, but what did he want with you?

You raised your eyebrows in question.

He blinked at you, then his eyes slid away from your face, looking somewhere over your head and through to the kitchen.

“Training,” he said.

You continued to stare, but he just as stubbornly avoided your eyes.

After another moment, you huffed and sat up.

“Training?” you echoed.

“We’re going to training.”

“…we?”

“You heard me.”

His response was dry. Already, he was pushing away from the wall and turning his back on you, leaving you little choice but to follow.

Leaving the couch and hurrying after him, you made it to his side on the stairs.

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to use my powers? After…”

“Not for speed,” he corrected you, eyes fixed ahead.

A frown furrowed your brow as you reached the training space. Today, you remained in the main, largest room. There was no one around and clearly Jungkook didn’t have want of the targets you normally used, as he stopped right in the middle and turned to you.

His brows were pinched, clearly a little hesitant about this. You noticed the way his teeth pulled slightly at his lower lip.

“Power,” he said.

You stared. With a subtle roll of his eyes, he elaborated.

“Apart from speed, that’s what you need to work on. You need to connect with your powers, feel like the light is an extension of you. Since you can’t work on your agility, it’s time to think about force.”

Nodding, you felt your confidence raise a little. When you had trained by yourself before, you had hit upon that exact feeling he described, an almost physical connection that let you lift the target.

Plus, using a little force would be more than welcome, with the pent up tension you had felt since your last disastrous practice.

Jungkook took your confirmation and stepped forwards into line with you, holding your gaze. He held his arms slightly away from his body, palms facing you.

“Summon your powers and push against me,” he instructed.

It took you a moment to get your bearings and prepare to use your powers. It had been a while. You tried to hide your slight wince when you searched for the powers only to find a scorching, tangled mess where they usually flowed from, like someone had knotted barbed wire there.

Swallowing, you let your eyes slide shut for a moment. It was as if your power was hissing at you, an animal you had to coax from hiding.

But coax it you did, the first slight tug leading them to easily unravel until the electricity flowed through your veins again. Beside a slight tremor in the flow of blue light you released, it seemed fairly normal.

Surely Jungkook wouldn’t approve of the clumsiness with which you handled your powers, though? But when you looked up, he only appeared focussed.

With a small nod as your powers shot through the air, his eyes clouded with gold and his own luminous lightning welled in his hands.

He didn’t fire a strong bolt to match yours. It appeared that he held a small golden fountain in each hand, bubbling gently, just enough to dispel your blue electricity before it could strike his palms.

Your eyes connected.

It was curious, how Jungkook’s eyes looked so much less deadly when they were literally glowing with power. As you held his gaze, you felt no urge to look away. Instead, his focus, gentle and firm at the same time, affirmed you.

Taking a breath, you continued to let your powers flow freely.

“Concentrate on your powers,” he spoke in a low voice, “feel them moving through you. Then follow that feeling outwards, feel where they connect with me.”

Taking in his words with a determined nod, you searched within you for the feeling he spoke of.

This time, you didn’t close your eyes. You were already familiar with the taste of your power in your veins, and found it with little effort.

But you stared into those gold eyes as you searched for him, the sight of them making it easier to find the corresponding sensation. Colliding with your power, you were surprised to stumble across a warmth pulsing against them. You hadn’t even realised you had followed the flow of your powers outside your fingertips; the feeling hadn’t altered as far as you could tell.

Sure enough, however, there was Jungkook – it was undeniable. Inexplicably, the intensity of his eyes felt the exact same as the fiery power rushing to meet your own lightning.

Before you could say anything, Jungkook’s lips twitched into a smirk.

“You can feel it, right?”

Now you had found it, it was easy to hold onto the sensation of his powers as they met your own.

Elated, you exhaled with a smile. His grew too.

“I’m going to push back now,” he said, “keep the connection. It’ll be like arm wrestling, only with our powers.”

You knew you should have felt a little sceptical about that. If it was anything like arm wrestling, Jungkook would be able to topple you in a second. He had been training much longer than you, and was undeniably stronger.

In fact, all you felt was an ignition in your chest, competitiveness flaring up inside you.

Jungkook’s expression shifted into focus. His smirk slipped into a concentrated line.

Where the gold in his eyes had been rippling lazily, it now grew in ferocity, blazing harshly in contrast to the abysses of his dark pupils.

The instant his powers switched, you felt it. No longer a soft warmth, they sent a jolt through you as they connected in earnest, the threads of your electricity fusing together like wires and throwing out a ball of sparks.

The molten light warred in the air between you, your eyes no doubt as vivid as Jungkook’s as you allowed more power through your palms to match his force.

To your surprise, they complied instantly. It seemed your powers were enjoying being let out like this, having lashed out the last time when you had stubbornly forced them to stop and start. With the growing power flowing from you, their connection with Jungkook strengthened as well. You could sense a distinctly gold force clashing with your powers.

Even though you could see the point where your powers converged, the feeling allowed you to notice every minute crackle of electricity, every pulse of Jungkook’s lightning.

Just like before, when you had lifted the target, your powers felt much more than just a fleeting rush of sparks. They formed a bridge outwards from your body, reaching beyond.

You felt strong.

And if Jungkook wanted to wrestle, you weren’t going to go down easily.

Channelling yet more power outwards, you pushed hard against his gold powers where they met your own.

For a moment, you succeeded in subduing the opposing force. Sparks flew again, Jungkook staggering back a step as the gold light retreated from your advance, blue dominating the bolt of energy that connected you two.

Jungkook smiled.

The next moment, it became clear he had been waiting for you to get used to the feeling and make a move. But you had no time to be touched by his newfound patience as you found yourself battling against a renewed burst of pressure from his end.

Raising your arms to be level with your shoulders, aiming at him, you gritted your teeth and stubbornly weathered the temptation to step back as his powers shoved against yours.

Now both of you were using all your energy, the connection was more vivid than before. You could sense every vein of the electricity, his as well as yours. Finding strength from somewhere, you resisted his onslaught and managed to take a step forwards.

Your tussle continued, fire against fire, both of you matching the other’s power but advancing until you were practically toe to toe.

Outstretched, slightly above your head, your hands were level, vibrant light still connecting them although his palm was just inches from yours. A waterfall of blue and gold sparks fell between your faces while you stared at each other with blazing eyes. Your breathing was heavy, trying to keep up with his relentless power, but Jungkook was also panting, damp hair falling over his eyes.

You were out of breath, but the warm air brushing over your face from Jungkook’s lips assured you that you weren’t the only one.

A sharp, exhilarated smile lit up his mouth. A brow quirked, his words breathless as he spoke.

“Not bad. Hold it…”

Sucking in a breath, you prepared for one last effort. Avoiding Jungkook’s eyes had long left your priority list, and now you were drawn in by the burning gold within them. It was like you were staring at the sun, but you couldn’t look away, not even when their light grew, yet more of his power flowing through you.

His gaze burned just as intently back, eyes trained on your own which were surely lit up blue. A slight crease formed in his brow, perhaps from concentration…

Again, you matched his power even as he overloaded the connection, more and more energy sparking in the air-

His gaze flitted away, the connection cutting abruptly.

For a moment, the brightness of the sparks, and Jungkook’s eyes, left dazzling prints on your vision even as they sputtered from existence. Air rushed in and out of your lungs, the exertion not hitting you until now.

Without the channel to focus your energy, you staggered back from Jungkook, blinking in the relative dimness.

Sensing the strength that had drained from you, you let yourself take another step to sink against the wall behind you. Breathing still heavy, you looked up at Jungkook. Though his chest heaved too, cheeks slightly flushed under his dripping hair, he hadn’t moved an inch.

Only when you met his eyes, which had returned to their regular darkness, did he start, quickly marching away to grab water bottles from the corner of the room.

One flew in your direction. Just about managing to snatch it from the air, you took an eager sip. Now you had had time to catch your breath, a strange silence settled.

“How did it feel?”

Jungkook wasn’t even looking at you. He had made his way to the bottom of the staircase, and now leaned against them, apparently finding the floor very interesting.

Hesitantly, you made your way closer, following a step behind as he started climbing back to the main house.

“Yeah, my powers, they feel… it wasn’t painful,” you replied, “they’re like normal again.”

Jungkook nodded.

“You did good. Still, don’t push it.”

By then, you had reached the top of the stairs. After pausing for a moment, Jungkook awkwardly moved away to the kitchen, while you hung back to have a shower.

The odd tension that had clung to the space between you since training occupied your mind as the water flowed over you, reinvigorating your tired body. In a way, it was just like usual. You and Jungkook had never been comfortable around each other.

But then why did it feel odd now?

The training session had given you a taste of something different. For once, Jungkook hadn’t spent the time trying to antagonise you. Instead, you had a real chance to push yourself.

It was probably the fact that, after so long without using your powers, you simply missed feeling the rush of electricity. No matter if it was also because connecting with Jungkook's powers had felt so thrilling too.

That thought was gone as quickly as the water running over you. Outside the training room at least, you knew where you stood. And that was very, very far from Jungkook.

Which is why you were so perplexed when you reached the kitchen, and didn’t find it empty.

Pausing in the hallway, you honestly considered turning back around and leaving. Trust Jungkook to try and claim the kitchen since you were absent.

But you weren’t going to be deterred. You were hungry.

It was his fault anyway, for training you so hard, so you took a breath and pushed your damp hair behind your shoulder before striding into the space.

At first, you made your best attempt at keeping your chin up, confident while also acting as if you magically couldn’t see Jungkook at all. It was how you usually approached each other. Unfortunately, you couldn’t stop yourself from noticing that whatever he was making wasn’t going well.

Halfway through throwing your own ingredients onto the counter, you stopped to cast a sceptical eye over the mess he was making. He was making an equally good show of not noticing your presence, and continued throwing in random sauces, not before eyeing them all fairly hesitantly first.

Biting your lip, you shrugged it off and turned your eyes back to your own dinner.

But you could no longer ignore it when he took a taste from his spoon and quite literally recoiled.

Loudly putting your knife down, you sighed in frustration.

“Do you want some help?”

Quickly straightening out his face from the way it had been screwed up from the taste, he blinked around at you. He really did look surprised at your presence.

You rolled your eyes, marching over to him and peering into his pan.

“What are you making?”

Folding his arms across his chest, you could hear the pout in his voice as he replied.

“Tteokbokki.”

You stared. At the food, which certainly did not resemble tteokbokki, and then at Jungkook.

“No you’re not.”

“I am! Jin always makes it like this!”

“Maybe when he’s making something for his science experiments,” you scoffed.

Defiant, Jungkook reached for his packet of soft rice cakes, totally ignoring you. You had to lunge across the counter to save them from a grizzly fate in that pan of definitely not tteokbokki.

Deep down, he clearly agreed with you, because he didn’t protest all that much as you forcibly removed the pan from the stove, depositing the whole mess in the bin.

“This is how you’ve been eating?”

Jungkook looked a little startled, his eyes wide for a moment before he managed to resurrect his scowl.

“We ran out of ramen,” he muttered.

You stared at him in disbelief. Had no one taught him to cook?

“What would Jin say?” you huffed, returning to the stove and elbowing him out the way.

Before long, you had your own meal cooking, now with some extra added. After a few moments, Jungkook had skulked away, watching you silently from the table. Once again, you pretended not to pay him any mind.

Two steaming bowls of (actually edible) food eventually made it to the table.

Sitting down opposite him, neither of you began for a moment. Each of you was waiting for the other to do something.

When at last you reached for your chopsticks, the sound was deafening against the strained silence between you.

Perhaps Jungkook was encouraged to see you didn’t drop dead after taking a bite, because he finally started to eat as well. Not that you let yourself look at him beyond the odd brief glance. You kept your attention firmly on the meal, which was actually quite tasty if you did say so yourself.

“Thanks.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin, eyes shooting up to stare at Jungkook. He stopped mid-bite, big eyes returning your bewildered gaze as if he had no idea who had spoken.

You blinked. Clearing your throat, you averted your gaze again, picking at your food.

“No problem.”

“It’s nearly as good as Jin’s,” he drawled next.

Disbelieving, you swallowed your next bite and raised your eyebrows.

“Are you seriously trying to come for me after I gave you food?”

“That’s a compliment!” he defended.

“Sure.”

“Fine,” he huffed, attacking his food a bit more aggressively.

Taking a breath, you chewed your lip. Jungkook took a bite with more force than strictly necessary, brows furrowed. Maybe he had really meant it in a nice way?

You had trouble believing that, somehow.

“It’s a hell of a lot better than yours would have been,” you grumbled, then paused. “but… I suppose Jin is a very good chef.”

For a moment, Jungkook didn’t reply. But he finished chewing and set his chopsticks down a bit more gently.

“Why would I have to practise cooking when he’s always here to do it?” he murmured.

Deciding for once to take the opportunity to ease the situation, you smiled.

“I don’t blame you.”

Both of you allowed a temporary ceasefire to settle as you cleared your plates. You didn’t miss Jungkook’s glance towards the little black receiver standing on the table.

With the frequency of operations at the moment, it was clear Namjoon classed the whole situation with Bolt as an emergency. Jungkook hadn’t been wrong – Jin was usually there, or one of the others, to cook. As much as it still surprised you that he was so clueless, you saw that prying was going to get you nowhere.

He wasn’t the only one that missed the others, though. Or hoped they were okay.

You leaned over and turned the receiver on.

Thank you for reading! I really mean it, it's wonderful now I'm finally sharing this story to hear what you guys think as we go through it!! I appreciate every last one of you who comments💜💜

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Part 4, Chapter 7: Repository III (the final) // Sebastian Sallow x Reader

AN: I apologize for this unedited mess. I am also so sorry I’ve been swamped and haven’t uploaded. I have a lot going on right now in my real life and writing has taken a backseat to it. I plan to finish this series soon. Thank you all for holding out with me. This is mostly just filler. Again, sorry.

Pic belongs to @99luka9 on Pinterest! (Not sure if they have a blog here as well but I found in on there)

Warnings: mention of blood, death, violence

Word count: 3,800

Link to Masterlist

The more Sebastian dug into the stone the more blood began to pool in his palms. Sweat dripped down his brow and down the sides of his neck, as well as down his nape, before trailing into his shirt collar. As he went to push yet another piece of piled up rumble to the cave floor, the slick of his palm caused him to lose traction, resulting in him slamming his fingers into the harsh surface as he let out an expletive.

Frustratedly he wiped his hands on the surface of his pants in an attempt to once again gain traction before resuming his efforts to push the stones. The more rubble he cleared, allowing him to gain more information as to what was happening on the other side. More loud taunting, more loud crashing, and thankfully more spell casting. He couldn’t quite make out what she was shouting from wherever this opening would lead, but he could hear the distinct sound of a spell hurling through the air followed by the occasional roar or groan of Ranrok. Everything about this reminded him of how broken she had felt when he rushed into the house with Solomon hot on his heels while he gripped her bleeding body to his chest.

Solomon. That was the strangest part of the ordeal. The more he continued to dig, the more he could hear her sole voice calling back against the goblin. He knew that Solomon had been trapped inside the cavern with her, and a part of him hoped that at the very least the man was alive to help keep her safe, but given the lack of hearing the man’s gruff voice or simultaneous casting there only left a few options for his uncle’s fate: the man was knocked out, the man ran, or he was already dead.

And as callous as it seemed, Sebastian didn’t really care which of three it wound up being.

In fact, Sebastian knew that if he got inside with only the ability to save one of them, he would save her with no hesitation. Solomon may be blood, but that didn’t make him family. Especially after finding out what he had done to Anne, and leaving his love to die at the hands of Rookwood, he had no love left in his heart for Solomon Sallow. That - and years of abuse at the man’s hands didn’t exactly bode well. In some small ways it might be better if Solomon was already dead, he thought. That way he wouldn’t have to kill Solomon himself.

Eventually he pushed aside just the right stone to cause the majority of them to fall away, opening up a small hole which he could see lead into a tunnel. Seeing it as the only way forward he crouched the best he could, pushing through until the tunnel allowed him to once again stand to full height. Inside it appeared similar to San Bakaar’s fourth trial and the location in which he witnessed the memory of the keepers confronting Isadora.

Sebastian felt a chill run up the entire length of his spine before it settled against his nape as he shuddered remembering what he had seen. In some ways he respected San Bakaar more than the others - as the man seemed to understand his policy of using whatever means necessary when your life's on the line. Even during the keeper’s time at Hogwarts the killing curse was forbidden. Knowing all four of them agreed to use it on Isadora in order to protect the wizarding world from her demented actions of corrupting the purity of ancient magic with human pain, made him more inclined to trust their judgment. It also made him glad that he taught the girl how to use it in extreme circumstances.

“Sebastian I am not so sure about this…” she spoke as they rounded that all too familiar staircase of the restricted section. The weight of the books he was returning pressed into his forearms. This was not to do with Anne that he had come back here. In fact he’d given up searching months ago after she finally convinced him they would find a way with ancient magic. But for some reason, after a night where she’d stumbled back even later than his shift with Sirona, covered in blood from poachers, he decided maybe raiding some of the healing spells would benefit her.

“We are just returning what I borrowed. Not taking anything else, I promise” he told her with a sigh.

“What did you take?” She asked cautiously, worried he’d have slipped back into old habits.

“Healing spells they just don’t teach at the school. I wanted to be able to teach them to you. I’m sick of seeing you stumble back broken and bloodied.” He explained, finally coming back to the spot in which he’d removed a few tomes on advanced healing.

“Oh. I thought - nevermind” she said, coming forward to help place the books back on the shelf near him.

“You thought, what? That I was messing with dark magic again?” He asked playfully, not concerned about her response because he genuinely hadn’t. Sebastian had no reason to be embarrassed or start a fuss over something he wasn’t engaging with any longer. And if he was honest with himself… he felt better. His head felt clearer. His back, less weighted.

“Well… why else would one sneak into the restricted section…?” She asked as she peaked open one of the books seeing it did in fact have very complex healing spells before putting it back on the shelf.

“Pornographic material” he said with a shrug.

“What?!” She shrieked and he laughed at her response as he pointed back to a dimly lit alcove all the boys at school had heard about. It was true that several boys always found a way to sneak in and raid it. On occasion he’d grabbed a few on his way out to make the trip more worth it…

“Yeah some of them even moan and make noises and such-“ he started and she smacked his arm as he chuckled.

“Stop being a brute and just put back the healing books you stole. Merlin, why am I courting such a delinquent?” She asked.

“Because you love me?” He teased stretching his hand out, which she graciously took.

“I do. And I’m also glad you stopped looking into dark magic. I know there’s been circumstances your knowledge has come in handy but… overall I prefer not using it as a first resort”

“I agree. I admit, I might’ve started getting a tad loose with some spells I shouldn’t have. I do still think it’s important to have knowledge of dark magic. And there are times I think the ends justify the means…”

“What are you talking about?” She asked, feet stalling as she looked at him.

“Well, if you do face Ranrok, and he has you pinned down without a moment of your life or his, I would prefer to know that you at least knew the killing curse. At that moment I believe it would be a justifiable means to kill him. And I don’t think the ministry would care either given goblins and human rights aren’t the same. But either way, I would like to know you would do anything to keep yourself safe if it came to that. Not as a first choice but a last resort” he explained, somewhat timidly. He knew she didn’t love the use of dark magic, but she never discouraged him trying to gain understanding of it. She saw past the black and white nature of it all, and it was something he deeply loved and admired her for.

“Oh… I hadn’t really thought about it.” She said nervously.

“You don’t have to-“ he tried to explain he wasn’t demanding she learn one of the three unforgivable spells on his account purely, but she cut him off.

“No. You’re right. This is too important. This magic is too dangerous to leave in Ranrok’s hands. I should at least know what to do if it came to that. Not necessarily for my sake but everyone else’s” she explained leaving him stunned.

“I’m really surprised you are so quick to want to learn an unforgivable curse” Sebastian told her honestly.

“Like you said, this mission is important and killing him may be the only way to protect it. Come on down here. I’ll show you the athenaeum. It’s where I went that day you took the fall for me. You can teach me in there how to use it” she said, dragging him along further into the restricted section.

Sebastian had been surprised at her willingness to see the greater good and now he just hoped that she had both paid attention and was alive to make the call if it came down to it.

Finally having a plan seemed to help. The more she continued to use the attack strategy suggested by Sebastian, the more Ranrok began to absorb the pain as the magic separated from the toxicity contaminating it. This strategy seemed to be the solution, however the more desperate Ranrok became, the more she continued to be knocked down with his futile attempts at preventing her from removing his power.

Each fall felt worse on her already aching body. But at the end of the day, she knew that she would need to stop the goblin, even if it was the last thing she did. This was too important to give up now.

The swirls and conflicting magic surrounded them both as he drew smaller. And then with the most deafening scream of pain did the blast of red and black magic surround them as Ranrok once again returned to his original state.

“You are… but a child…” he grunted out in pain as he stared up at her.

“You shouldn’t understand anyone on account of being young” she spat as he quickly moved to his feet once again, only to be shoved down by her usage of the ancient magic around them.

Watching in horror as the last of the pain entered the goblin, he rose from the ground, screaming in agony as the pain she removed became too much. In horror she watched as she slowly began to glow, breaking apart into thin ash like parts before suddenly he was gone.

A gasp left her lips as she fell to her knees, shocked that it was over. It was finally all over.

Loud banging filled the space before the cavern lurked, loud sounds of falling rocks once again filling the space as she looked above. The chamber she was in began to collapse, as she struggled to rise. Energy depleted from the fight with Ranrok, she wasn’t sure she would be able to stand long enough to search for a way out.

And in her heart she found comfort in knowing at least everyone would be safe. The world at large had been saved. The likelihood of her walking away was low. And yet, she simply wanted to be granted the opportunity to say goodbye to him. To the handsome Slytherin boy, who had taught her so much. Who had shown her great care. Who had loved her beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Laying down, she simply closed her eyes, accepting her fate. Perhaps her mind's eye could recall his big brown eyes one more time. Or imagine all his adorning freckles. If she really concentrated she almost felt as if she could hear his voice shouting her name. What she wouldn’t give to feel him hold her one last time.

But then she felt it. A dirty trick of the mind to shift to the afterlife is what she assumed, but when she opened her eyes and saw the cavern collapsing just behind his head she gasped.

“Bash” came the hushed whisper before she was desperately pulled into his arms as he stood.

“Hold on, we are getting out of here. Just hold onto me” he spoke before whistling loudly, the sound of loud flapping filling the space as her eyes drifted closed. Flashes of feathers, falling debris and his worried face filled her mind before it all faded to black.

“Mr. Sallow set her down on the cot so the nurse can look over her injuries!” Professor Weasley shouted as the rag tag team of staff and students bust into the hospital ward.

The girl, having lost consciousness somewhere on the journey out of the repository, was still perched in Sebastian’s arms. The boy damn near growling earlier when someone tried to remove her. Lurching forward he set her down, unaware of the wards existing students.

Their friends and educators all coming around to stare down at the battered girl who had saved them. Well, all of them except one.

“Sebastian…” whispered behind him and when he finally tore his eyes from the girl he saw Anne.

“Annie…” he said in shock, having forgotten until now that poppy spoke about his witch find a cure.

“What happened? Where’s, where’s Solomon?” She asked, looking around.

His mind flashed back to the cavern, seeing his uncle crushed on the floor no longer breathing just as he had fled. She had whispered something akin to Solomon before she had fainted but he already knew the man was gone.

“He didn’t make it Anne” he spoke softly as his sister begun to wail loudly. Ominis coming forward to remove his sister from the already chaotic scene, he turned back to his love who still had yet to wake as the nurse began to try and heal some of her injuries.

“Is she going to be alright?” he asked softly as the nurse turned to him.

“I’d say so. Diagnostic spells show most of the damage is external, not internal.” The nurse spoke mending gashes and wiping away blood. As she did so, he took note of the already pink forming scar along the girl's face, now running through the middle of it. It wasn’t the kind of mark that happened by accident, the way it looked was deliberate. Poppy’s cries in the room of requirement were all he needed to know that it had been the result of Rookwood.

“Merlin…” he whispered as Professor Fig tugged him aside.

“It’s best to let them clean her up first. I need to speak with you” the man spoke and all he could do was nod. Deep down Sebastian knew the man was likely playing the events in December over in his mind, recalling how awful the boy had reacted to seeing her injured. Sitting at the edge of a separate bed he sighed.

Soon he found himself in front of the professors. Sebastian hadn’t noticed that Professor Weasley had escorted out all the other students, leaving only Leander who sustained a slightly sizable gash on his leg. But when the adults stared down at him as they refrained from talking he grew confused.

“Mr. Sallow you need to remove your shirt” Professor Sharp said sternly as he looked up confused.

“What?” Sebastian asked as the man harshly pointed at the wound on his shoulder. “Oh. I forgot about that…” he said gritting his teeth as he tried to unbutton the shirt with his non dominate hand.

“Adrenaline can make the body forget the trauma it’s experienced. It doesn’t look as bad now but still shouldn’t take too many chances with it.” The man said as he finished using spells he knew from his time at the ministry to examine the wound. Knowing the nurse would likely be too busy, helping the young Sallow man fell to him in responsibility.

“Is everyone decent?” Came a voice behind Professor Sharp who simply nodded as Matilda Weasley came forward.

“Mr. Sallow. I am going to need much more information this instance.” She demanded.

“Alright.” He spoke grumpily.

“Do you have any kind of idea the danger you put yourself, and your classmates, in?” She asked.

“Did you? Because from what I have come to realize, is that only Professor Fig and I were aware the danger everyone was in this whole time. I was likely more prepared than most of you to handle this”

“That doesn’t excuse your actions-“

“I will not apologize for wanting to make sure she walked out of there alive. Give me detention for the rest of the year. Expel me. Lock me in Azkaban. I don’t care. She is alive and going to be okay. That is all that matters to me” he spoke with exasperation.

“Matilda, perhaps given none of the students were in danger we should consider thanking Mr. Sallow for his assistance. Has they not arrived I am not sure even we all would have walked away” Professor Sharp spoke up.

“The distraction provided by Mr. Sallow and the other students allowed us to gain the upper hand during the battle.” Hecat pointed out.

“Yes but, they could have been hurt. How would I have explained it to their parents or the headmaster?” She questioned.

“Considering Sallow and I are the only two who got hurt, new fifth year excluded, I’d say it’s not something we need to be concerned with Professor Weasley. Chalk it up to some Slytherin resourcefulness and Gryffindor bravery.” Leander grunted as a house elf finished wrapping his leg.

The woman sighed before looking around. Eyes landing on the floor network as two figures emerged.

“Everett found me but when we made it back to the cavern everyone had left” Andrew Larson spoke walking forward with Officer Singer.

“What in Merlin’s name happened here? What is this I hear of a goblin attack?” She asked looking around at the battle worn professors and few injured students.

“Yes. And it appears several of our students mounted a counter offensive” she said with a frustrated sigh.

“Students?! The minister-“

“Will be delighted to know that Hogwarts has such brave, resourceful, loyal and intelligent students that they would be willing to sacrifice themselves for the greater good. Going so far to go against the measure we took to ensure their safety” Professor Weasley spoke.

“I will need to contact the minister and start a full investigation into the matters-“ Officer Singer began before Matilda once again cut her off.

“Tomorrow. These students, and us for that matter, have been through a great deal. Let them rest. Recover from their injuries before we go bringing up such events again.” She said sternly, nodding to Sebastian that his witch was alert.

No longer caring about the logistics he ran forward, sliding onto his knees as he took to her bed side.

“Sebastian?” She asked gently as he grabbed her hands in his own, kissing the skin along the back of her hand firmly over and over again.

“You are alive. Merlin be praised, you are alive!” He said excitedly as he no longer cared about the hospital ward full of people as he reached his hand out along the back of her neck and brought her into a kiss. It conveyed all the fear, anger, love and pain he was dealing with at all that had happened.

Breaking away to catch her breath the sighed in pain before looking back up at him sadly. “Sebastian… Solomon he…”

“I know” he told her, not really finding it in his heart to care about it at the moment.

“No. He saved me. I was falling. I - I would’ve died had he not saved me. And then he fell to his own death. Sebastian, it was horrible…” she said as tears began to well up in her eyes. He reached forward, hoping to provide comfort as she sobbed. Inside, the boy knew it was rather callous to not feel bad about his last remaining adult relative being gone, but after what he did to Anne, what Solomon did to him and most importantly what he had let Rookwood do to her, he didn’t care.

“We don’t have to discuss it now… you are alive and that’s all that matters” he told her gently as he wipped the tears from her face and she nodded. Reaching towards the table beside her bed, she produced Solomon’s wand and handed it to Sebastian.

“I managed to grab this before everything happened. I thought Anne might want it. But Sebastian-“ she started to speak as the girl in question ran forward.

“Why do you have our uncle’s wand?!” She shrieked.

“We got separated and he was with me when Ranrok-“

“So it’s your fault.” Anne spoke harshly as a gasp fell over them.

“Anne, I’m not sure we have all the information to make claims like that-“ Ominis spoke but the girl interrupted.

“No. She walked out. Solomon didn’t. That’s all I need to know” Anne responded.

“Anne. You have no idea the vile things Solomon did to even you. He-“ Sebastian started only to be interrupted by the witch at his side.

“You are right Anne. Solomon sacrificed himself to save me. And there’s nothing I can do to bring him back or make it okay. I’m sorry.” She said sadly.

“Maybe if you weren’t so careless he’d be alive. It is all your fault.” She spat before standing up.

“Anne! She saved you-” Ominis said standing up and rushing after the girl who was fleeing the hospital ward, leaving Sebastian and her to sit in silence over what had happened.

“Poppy told me what happened. Don't worry. Anne doesn’t know what Solomon did to her. We will talk to her-“ he spoke after a moment and she stopped him.

“No. Let Anne grieve him. She deserves that. I won’t take that away from her” she told him.

“She deserves to know she was dying because Solomon is a coward.”

“Sebastian, I will not be the reason your sister loses the image of her protective and loving uncle.”

“He was anything but that. I won’t have her speak to you that way. You saved her. For heaven's sake, you saved us all '' Sebastian told her sternly.

“And right now she is a girl who is sad over her Uncle’s death. She should be allowed to do that.” She replied.

“Not at the sake of your good name” he told her.

“We will tell her eventually. Right now I really just want to rest.” She said sadly.

“I have talked to Officer Singer. Tomorrow you will all report to discuss the events of today first thing in the morning. Classes have been canceled. For now you are released to go rest.” Professor Weasley spoke before turning on her heels to discuss with the other professors.

“Let’s get you back to the dorm-“ he spoke and she shook her head.

“Room of requirement. I can’t… I don’t want to face anyone right now” she spoke and he nodded, helping her rise to her feet and start down the stairs to their private sanctuary.

To be continued…

[translatemunson]

we play dumb but we know exactly what we’re doing • ttfd

chapter two of the tortured firefighters department

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, no descriptions of reader, banter (because i love it), mentions of food, bobby almost adopting brains, proofread by my bye-lingual ass (let me know if i forgot anything)

Your sneakers made funny noises while you walked up the stairs to the communal room — the mezzanine with a view for the ground floor — at the 118 firehouse. The fresh baked brownies — that you baked the night before, just in time to put it on the blue tupperware and take with you for your shift — jiggled as you approached the top of the stairs.

You checked the garage again, looking for Chimney’s ambulance, when you found the loft empty. Well, not that empty.

“Good afternoon, Captain Nash.” You greeted the man. As a dispatcher, your voice was your most recognizable mark, only giving out your name when necessary. And in your job, it was your responsibility to know the names of the captains. You wished Captain Nash was just an occasional contact, but lately he has been the one on the other end of the comms.

“Afternoon, dispatcher.” He was preparing some lunch for his team. “How can I help you?”

“Is Chimney around? I have something for him. Actually, it is for Maddie and baby Jee.” You motioned to the tupperware.

“He’s gonna be back soon, got stuck in traffic after delivering a civilian to the hospital. But if you are in a hurry, I can give it to him.” The captain was busy with the pans on the stove and chopping vegetables for a salad, you supposed.

“Just left my shift, I can wait. I don’t trust firefighters with carbs and sweets, no offense.” You pulled one of the chairs and took a seat, still watching the man moving effortlessly in the kitchen. “She called in sick and I need to deliver these to her before I have a kid on my doormat demanding more than just brownies.”

“None taken. Can I get you some coffee while you wait?”

“Tell me where to find a cup and I’ll get it myself, don’t wanna delay your lunch.”

“Second cabinet on the left.”

“Thanks, Cap.”

You stood up and walked into the kitchen. You have to admit: they were definitely eating well because it had all the appliances necessary for any recipe, and the smell was divine. Even the coffee had a unique aroma. Who could you talk to in order to get half of what they had in the firehouse? 

“It’s the least I can do for the mastermind behind the calls after that huge traffic jam downtown last week.” He smiled. “How did you manage to divert the teams and the civilians so fast?”

“Just like ants follow patterns, so do the LA drivers. GPS apps can give up the fastest options based on their data, but it takes too much time when it comes to rescuing someone.” You explained as you walked back to your seat. “Glad no one was badly injured that day.”

“I’ve never got to an accident scene so fast. You’re really good with predictions.”

“I think my future could be bright if I used my superpowers for fortune telling and betting,” you joked. “I should be the one thanking you for all your work. And your team.”

“Bring us some of those,” he was clearly talking about the brownies, “any time.”

“Will do.”

As you finished your cup of coffee, you saw the ambulance entering the garage. Chim and Henrietta, his paramedic partner, left the vehicle and went straight for their lockers. A few more minutes wouldn’t kill you.

“Wanna stay and have lunch with us?” Captains Nash offered.

“Maybe another time. Thanks.”

It didn’t take long for Chim to show up upstairs. He looked surprised to see you in the 118 kitchen. You stood up and gave him the tupperware. “I told Maddie how many brownies I got her, so don’t fuck it up,” you warned him.

“Your package is safe and sound with me, Brains. Are you in a hurry?”

“Kinda. I have an important meeting with my bed.”

“Fair enough.” He patted your shoulder, acting like the big brother Maddie warned you about.

“See you soon, Chim. Thanks for the coffee, Cap!”

They waved goodbye, and you looked forward to spending the rest of your day sleeping. No calls, no traffic, no thesis: just you, your recently washed bed covers and fluffy pillows. The only thing in your way was a few miles to your apartment.

“I thought I’d hear you before seeing you again, Brains.”

It was scary how, after one meeting, you could recognize his voice anywhere. 

 “Guess it’s your lucky day, Buckley. Don’t get too happy, I’m already leaving.” You turned around to face him. The black firefighter uniform fitted him very well, even better than the white polo shirt and jeans he wore to the dinner.

“Is everything alright?” He tilted his head slightly, and kept his voice low.

“Yeah, just dropping off something for Maddie. Busy day?”

“Small domestic incident with light injuries, and a foundation problem.”

“So just a normal day in LA.” You knew about the banned Q-word, it was kinda a thing with every single 9-1-1 worker, including dispatchers. “Saved any cats from trees lately?”

“Ha-ha, you’re funny.” His voice was warm, but his face was dead serious. You were playing hot and cold, again and again. “Did moving go well?”

“My arms are sore, but it’s finally over. Thanks for asking.”

“You could start working out to help next time you move. Or if you decide to join the firefighters.”

Both are definitely bad ideas. Why would you need to add another activity into your packed agenda? You turned around and followed your way to your car. “I’ll leave the muscles for you, Buckley.”

“See ya, Brains!” He shouted on your back.

“Bye!” You motioned your hand in a goodbye, but didn’t look him in the eye.

Unbeknown to you, the rest of the crew was watching you both and placing bets on how long until one of you realized the banter was just the first step of something bigger.

author's note: first of all, thank you for all the love on the chapter one!!!! i think it was the first time a first chapter gets so much love, likes and attention on its first week! again: you can share some thoughts and request scenes and blurbs for this series anytime, feel free to be creative! see y'all next week

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Portrayal of Betrayal

Author's Note: Y'all gave me Black Templar Brain wars >:|. So I made yet another Space marine oc. Give a shout if y'all wanna use him. Also, tag me so I can read and reblog your stuff if you do. This is a long chapter. over 2k.

Summary: Ramiel has a Bad Time, almost dies, and wakes up. Traitors are to die.

Warnings: Black Templar Shenanigans, major character death, abusive relationship, abuse of power, cannon typical violence, Black Templars TM , let me know if I need to add more.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @kit-williams, @sleepyfan-blog,

Tagged Again: @sleepyfan-blog and @whorety-k

Ramiel, like many of his general of Primaris marines is highly honored, and more than a little nervous when he is informed of his assignment, he is to become a member of the Honorable Black Templar Chapter, as a proud son of Dorn, he and his battle brothers ask their Utramarine First Born Cousins what their Chapter brothers are like and listen as they are described as dutiful, loyal, proud, stubborn, and fierce warriors. One of the other Ultramarines also murmurs something about certain unsavory traits about them, and gets a glare from the first Ultramarine that had the other quiet down.

As he and the other Primaris Marines meet and settle in with their First-Born Battle Brothers of the Black Templars, at first, the elder brothers don't seem to know what to make of them, some are hostile, some are curious, and all of them are carefully watched and monitored. Ramiel has great pride that Cedric- a brother who he's been helped by, and worked with before, got chosen as an Apprentice to one of the most Important and Eldest of the Apothecary First Born Battle Brothers of the entire Black Templar legion.

Ramiel hopes that he will gain a mentor, and does his best to do his tasks, whether it is missions, or chores to help maintain their ships and other things. As months go by Ramiel’s hearts are heavily burdened as so many of his fellow Primaris Marines have fallen, in battle, due to missions that were... well, he's not one to argue against a person in authority over him. He's been beaten enough, and remembers the lessons that were given to him by the Mechanicum, and the Black Templar elder brothers are eager to maintain discipline and punish them, justly, for their wrongdoings and sins.

He's glad that he's able to get patched up by one of his fellow Primaris Apothecary brothers, at least some of the time, sometimes they are not allowed to help patch them up after a flogging or other sort of punishment, left to heal with their own regenerative powers, and rations are one of the longer-term methods of punishment they are given. So he's surprised, honored and a little hopeful and honestly, more than a little shocked, and he hopes that the God Emperor will forgive him, afraid, when one of the harsher, and much stricter Black Templar Chaplains has decided to take Ramiel on as an apprentice.

He's worried and nervous, he's not been trained as a Chaplain and he accepts the Mentorship, before nervously telling him that he's just a battle brother. Honorable Veteran Black Templar Chaplain Mephisteil Petras has chosen him in particular. The First-Born Space Marine informs him that as his mentor, he'd be teaching him how to do the tasks and duties of a Chaplain. Ramiel bows his head and accepts the honor and new duties to be assigned to him. Following after Chaplain Mephisteil two steps back and to the left as requested by his new mentor.

It's hard, learning the duties of a Chaplain, and one of the first duties that he's ordered to do is to help with the punishment of several Primaris Black Templars, to go over their sins and help them purge themselves of their shame with use of whip and words. Traitorously his lips tremble, and he's grateful that no one can see it, and he hides his flinch by heading over to grab the punishment whip. The words lodge hot, hard and heavy in his throat, which has become dry and it feels like his eyes are burning.

He has a couple of false starts before Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras snaps at him to "Stand up straight like a real Marine."

He snaps to attention and snaps a salute. "Yes Sir!"

"Now," The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras says, "Recite their sins and punishments abom- boy."

"Yes Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras," Ramiel says, thankful that his voice doesn't crack or croak. He takes in a deep breath and reads the three Primaris brothers the scroll that contained what they had done, and the punishments that they were going to be receiving and after that there is silence.

"Abmon- Boy! Get the whip." The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras demands of him.

He nods to his mentor, the Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras and grabs the whip, "Have them count out the strokes of the whip."

"Yes sir," Ramiel replies as his throat seems to constrict and it feels like it's become harder and harder to breath.

He snaps the whip a couple of times, the crack and sound of it has them all flinching minutely, but not enough that The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras does not notice and snarls at them for it. Ramiel would also be getting a flogging after this for being so slow to obey his superior officer and mentor. Ramiel mentally apologizes to his fellow Primaris brothers as he starts to whip them, the words he's been taught to tell them as the whistling sound of the whip, the sound of their flesh, and their voices counting the whip marks.

Slowly, yet all at once he as to continue to whips them at the proper pace, to slow and he will get more time added to his flogging, to fast and he will hurt them more than he should, and his punishment for not properly doling out punishment will be worse. Slowly, and all at once he has finished whipping his fellow Primaris Marines. His nerves are screaming at him. He wants to apologize for harming them, yet he locks the words behind his teeth. The punishment he gets for that, and he only did it just the once when he was ordered to Punish Cedric had been... well...

He was blessed with the regenerative powers of a Primaris Marine, which is significantly faster and he's much hardier than a First Born, much to the scowl he got from his mentor The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras. He can't even try to go find them later to apologize, for his mentor The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras has eyes on him at all times, and the punishment he got for trying to apologize after the fact, and trying to do so out of sight and eyes (not that it worked) of their First-Born brothers had also been a test of his body's healing capabilities.

Ramiel hoped that, with time, and showing his dutiful, diligence and obedience, that hopefully The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras and the other Chaplains, and other First Born Space Marines of the Black Templar Chapter would slowly start to trust them. He has seen how warm, affectionate and caring they can be towards their fellow first born space marines. But there must be something wrong with him, and his fellow Primaris Marines that they are treated so coldly and harshly. But he holds out hope that someday, somehow, some way, they will be able to have that easy trust and affection, or barring that, be good enough that they were no longer given such harsh, and swift punishments for even the smallest of infractions.

Infractions that usually their First-Born brothers do not get punishments for, or if they do, not as harshly as the Primaris Marines do. Perhaps, it is because they are so much younger and new than their elder brothers? That they want to instill good habits and proper behaviors? Oh, he so dearly hopes that's the case. His mentor The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras, among a larger number of First-Born Space Marines have started to get more agitated recently over the years. He's noticed that, and while he's sent a message or two to his fellow Primaris Marines, has no idea how to bring it up or address it with The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras, without offending or upsetting the other sooner.

He gets a vox call from The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras, "Sir? Apprentice Chaplain Ramiel speaking."

"Abomin- Boy, come to me, I need to speak with you about something," The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras snarls at him.

He flinches, "yes sir, I'm headed to your coordinates."

Ramiel wonders what has put his elder brother and mentor into such a foul mood, and dreads what the potential answer could be. Even as he braces himself for likely more rounds of justified punishment for infractions, he did not know he had done until The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras informs him of them. He sends a message to Cedric, who's awake and on the same ship as him. Just as a warning about the mood that The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras is in.

He is sure and swift in his movements as he heads towards where The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras and several the more... irascible and mistrusting of the first-born black Templars are.

"I have arrived, The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras," He says snapping a salute.

"Abomination," The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras and his hearts sink to his chest and his throat feels like its closing, "For the crime of existence I, The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras, have decided that you shall cease living."

"Bu- Mentor, H-Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras," He stutters out moving backwards a little, "I-I'm a loyal Black Templar of the Chapter... I'm not an abom-"

Whatever he was going to say next was cut off as he dodge the blow he recieved from The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras, who charged him. As a Primaris Marine, they are fast, stronger, and have a higher mental processing speed. He continues to dodge and weave, not attacking back as more of the First-born Space Marines go after him. He knows that they will hit him, and they do, he is only one and they are half a dozen strong.

"Foul Abomination, thy existance will be purged and our chapter restored!" The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras roars at him.

Ramiel continues to dodge and tries to speak with him- with the other First Born Black Templar Battle brothers that are slowly trying to encircle and cut off his mode of retreat. They and The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras are starting to get past his guard and one of the systems pings a warning and sends a distress signal off to the nearest Apothecaries that he was wounded. He was starting to get far more badly wounded.

"What did I do wrong mentor? I have only ever tried to heed your words, Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras, and be a good, obedient mentee," He hears a familiar voice cry out and he turns to see Cedric staring at him and the group of First-Born Marines in shock, a medic's kit in hand.

Ramiel notices The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras, his mentor swerve to try and strike out at Cedric. With a burst of speed he runs and blocks the blow- unfortunately where it lands, the chainsaw sword strikes him a lethal blow as Cedric desperately grabs him Ramiel manages to murmur something to Cedric as blood spills from his lips.

"I'm sorry, sir, whatever it was that I did to deserve this, please don't take it out on my brothers." He apologizes as blood bubbles from his lips. It feels nice, paradoxically to be in the arms of one his brothers, it’s been so long since he’d been held, even if Cedric is trying to keep him upright.

He closes his eyes, as his vision grows dark, and feels blood flowing rapidly out of his wounds. He wakes up with a pained gasp and blinks. Treacherous tears are blinding his eyes as he blinks rapidly. He is alive. Ramiel, somehow, survived what had felt like a killing blow. He jolts as he tries to get up to find Cedric or The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras, and the other First-Born Marines to Attack him, upon his command, of course. He pulls of his helmet and buries his face in his hands as he shakes and allows himself to feel, just for a moment or two before he scrubs is face clean of salted water and puts on his helmet as he gingerly gets up.

He looks around, a frown forming on his face, he doesn't recognize the flora and fauna of this place. As he looks up to the night sky, the stars aren't something he recognizes either with jolt of unease. He has many questions that he has no answers for. And he will need to find a way back to... back to his brothers. He ignores the way that had his body flinching and curling in on himself. Coward. He hisses at himself, he's an apprentice chaplain, honored to have been chosen by The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras.

He needs to find out where he is and how he got here and how to get back to The Sigismund. He finds a stream of fresh water, that is flowing fast enough, and after a cautious test, is clean enough to drink from and he does so gladly. The water is bitingly cold, which helps further ground him in the here and now as he ruthlessly squashes the thoughts and questions that run amok in his mind. He puts his helmet back on and continues to wander the forest, which is lovely, and filled with bird song and the rustling leaves of the trees that sway in the wind.

One of the things that Ramiel doesn't know, is that his death at the hands of the First-Born Black Templars had started the overt schism within the Black Templars, between the ones who viewed the Black Templars as Abominations to be purged, and the first born (who found them to be useful) and the Primarus Marines who didn't want to die and were not abominations against His Imperial Majesty. They had been created upon the orders of Him on Terra, created and raised on Mars for the majority of their training before The Imperial Regent in all his wisdom had decided to have them sent out to reinforce the various chapters of the Space Marine Chapters.

But that is something he doesn't know yet, simply that his mentor, The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras, had thought him something to kill. He notices movement and hides in the shadow of a massive tree when he spots three or four base line human children running around and playing in a camp site, with the adults talking to one another amiably as the kids played nearby. They looked so happy, which both soothed and hurt something inside Ramiel that he couldn't understand for some reason as he watched them, entranced.

Keeping very still and shrinking back further when he noticed some of the adults glancing his way. He doesn't think they saw him, otherwise they likely would call back the children and leave the area. One of the children notices something and shrieks with emotion, and runs towards- oh no. Oh child no! He spots a couple of Chaos Marines and growls softly. The child is not at fault for not realize that wasn't an Angel of the God Emperor, but a Scummy traitor.

He pulls his blade shifts his body and, despite his wounds Charges towards the Chaos Marines with a bellow, getting in-between the child and the Chaos Marines who swear and pull back as he growls at the Chaos marines, “Scum and Filth to be purged. You Heretics shall die by my hand! Child- run back to your parents and leave this place.”

[fizzyswirl]

with the eggs leaving and the reboot coming up I think we all should sit abck and just wait and see what all happens.

I understsnd we all are scared and some arent too confident about it. And some may even feel they should just close the server.

But heres my take on all this.

The eggs leaving is like and end to an arc that ended up lasting mlre longer wether it's due to all of us getting attched or other reasons.

The eggs stayed and they were gonna leave at some point, nothing lasts forever, but we all werent expecting to have trouble saying goodbye, like I feel like the timing feels right for these eggs that woke up, its sad that the eggs that are still asleep arent having a chance to say goodbye but I feel tjey are getting a proper goodbye inna different way

Like reading books, looking at things the eggs did snd worked on. It's a way to conclude their stories

This is like a chapter of the story ending, same goese for the cubitos, their arc ended but their will be more for many and some may have an unexpected return in the future.

None of the ccs that was on the server for the few weeks never said their quitting the server, some are jist taking a break and phil may not return but he might if he feels he wants to.

And again who knows if these eggs will return but as dragons tho we shouldnt assume.

Speaking of assuming people have been doompoting and expecting the wost since the eggs are leaving.

Like most of us forgotten what the qsmp was mainly about?

Quackity made this server to connect people from different languages and countries. He wanting to build the bridges that wasnt really there.

And I say he succeeded, unfortuently I feel a lot of people forgot what the qsmp is about and as much as I love and care about the eggs, they arent the main reason to join the qsmp.

Like I would love to joins the qsmp because I wanna meet new people and learn new languages and cultures and the eggs would be a side reason as they came after the server began.

Sure the eggs helped bring many to stay on the server. But like even with the eggs dissapearing people still were on and did stuff together, the onese without eggs like YD were on, maybe not often but still showed up. Aypierre is still hopping on once a while despite Pommes admin not coming back, like even with Richas leaving, Mike still played on the server until he completed the statue.

Like these ccs who want to stay on the server may not show up for a bit but they will return when their ready.

We can't keep assuming what this person will do or if this person will stop interacting and all this assumptions we all need to stop doing as we end up dpreading missinformation.

Now the whole reboot coming up and the doomposting. I have seen most people doompost that the server is gonna fall because the eggs left. If that's the case, why are people still hopping on? Sure bad is the only one mainly on but again none of the ccs never confirmed they are leaving the server.

Some may never come back at least until they feel they want to. some are taking a break and will eventuslly return when their ready. But we all need to stop putting words that they didn't say on these sites as again spreading missinformation.

I think we all are scared of change and are afraid that everything that the qsmp did will be reversed but we should remember that these ccs always have a chance to interact outside the swrver.

They just have their owb things they wanna do but theyll interact at some point. Like Philza and Etoiles wanna play the car soccer game (I forgot the name of it) and Fit and Pac wanna continue playing it takes two and possibly more stardew valley.

Like these ccs have bonds that may be lasting forever its not all just gonna be on stream or public, some will be private and between them that they just wanna have fun without us always following their friendships kf this makes sense.

Like the qsmp briught them ttogether but their friendship will continue even after the server does permamently end.

Tthis reboot honestly may be what all of us need, sure the memories of this server is something we wanna keep but everyone needs a fresh start as it became too hard to enjoy the current server with the eggs leaving.

And again we don't fully know what will happen, maybe the spawn will have the current builds but be in a similar state the spawn looked at the beginning which has ruined and abandoned buildings or maybe fully reset. Either way we can only sit back and see what happens from here.

I think out problem is we tend to assume. Doesn't help with twitter as a lot of people there just are toxic and will condtsntly assume and put words that werent said.

I feel confident about whats to come and we should just wait and for now just take time to recover from an emotional week we all had, it's hard but like when Technoblade passed it wasnt easy for many of us especially his friends and family, but everyone still did what they can to keep them alive in spirit. This can be what we can do for the eggs and for the cubitos, like fanfics, fanart, easter eggs, even music and animations.

Like we have the power to create things even if the character or cubito is gone.and same goes with shows or the characters not returning, we can remember the show and characters even if it ends through creativity.

So overall we need to take slow deep breaths. Take time away if needed, and look forward as we can only wait and see what happens. We'll get thriugh this all together and remember we can still look at old vods and memories if we want to (I think theres a vod list somewhere on here)

Change is hard and many of us are uncertain what will happen from here, but remember that things don't last forever but they will Always be around if we continue to keep them alive through out creations and talking abiut them. And alsoz the reason that qsmp was mainly created for. And how we better handle these changes and situations that impacts us emotionally.

Remember that we can't predict the future and we just need to concentrait on the present. And take care of ourselves. Remember to take a step away for however long u need to, take a drink of water, eat something, take a nap or sleep depending on where u are, hug someone or something, take a step outside (aka touch grass for a bit) and do whatever u need to recover mentally.

Hope u all can have a bom dia/noite wether u are right now :)

I think things will be alright just will take time. ❤

(Apologies if I got something wrong or missworded it)

[604to647]

Safest with You - Ch. 15 (The BBQ)

7K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: You and Din attend a very special Fett Family BBQ hosted by the Damerons and you grow closer to the clan.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please). F!oral, semi public car sex, unprotected PiV, rough-ish sex, established relationship, pet names as usual (pretty bird, baby, etc.), light daddy kink (really just a nickname).

A/N: Din's back! This is mainly a world building chapter with some heat at the end 🤭; it's not perfect but I wanted to put it out and get back into the groove of this story again. Thank you to everyone who waited patiently while I took a little posting break for this series. I missed them a lot and hope you're ready to jump back in it with me!

Series Masterlist

“Do you think we should have brought anything else?”

“One item should be good, pretty bird.  Lisa always makes too much food anyways,” says Din, looking down at the casserole dish full of garlic knots that you’re holding.

“Okay.  I just always feel like more food is better than less food,” you say, unsure.

“I think that's enough garlic knots to feed an army, sweetheart.”

“But Mayfeld asked for them!”

Din stops you at the end of the walkway leading up to the Dameron house and plants a soft kiss to your lips, “Thank you for feeding Miggs, baby.  If his mouth is full of your garlic knots, then we don’t have to hear him talk as much.”

“Din!”

He laughs and takes your hand as you head up to the front of the house, “Come on, admit it.  Mayfeld is your least favourite Mando.”

“He is not!” you’re scandalized by the accusation.

“Okay... who is your least favourite Mando then?”

Looking at Din with a look of mock annoyance, you jest, “Sometimes, it’s YOU.”  You swerve the hand that drops yours in an attempt to at swat of your bum. 

Letting yourselves in through the front door, you follow the chorus of voices to the kitchen; spinning as you walk through the foyer, you take in the splendor of the Dameron residence.  Not sure what you expected the house of an heir to a mob empire to look like, but you suppose this is as close to anything you might have imagined.  The house is fairly grand and seems to boast an inordinate number of chandeliers; dark carved wood and marble line the floors and walls - it looks like a good place to set a live action game of Clue.  When you round the corner to the kitchen, you’re struck by two things:

1) Din was right, Lisa made too much food.  Nearly all the counter top space is covered with plates and platters filled with meats, salads, breads, pastas.  You count eight charcuterie boards – they might be delineated by cheese region.  There are warming trays that have their bright blue butane flames lit underneath, already full of steaming dishes.  The breakfast nook seems to have been converted into some kind of dessert station with a 3-tiered buttercream iced cake at its centre.

2) Poe is being yelled at.

Din leans over to whisper in your ear, “Yes, it’s always like this.”

Poe spies you and Din and must decide that this is the distraction he’s been waiting for, because he gestures at his wife to turn around and welcome her guests.  You meet Lisa halfway, somewhere between the cocktail shrimp and the gazpacho; after hugging you and taking the garlic knots off your hands, she sighs and asks, dejectedly, “You wouldn’t happen to have Caesar salad dressing in your purse, would you?”

“Not today, sorry,” you quip.

“We can use another dressing!” Poe is holding his head in his hands.

“No,” grits Lisa through her teeth, “we cannot. It was requested.”

She says the last word with heavy emphasis; you take it that Poe was supposed to procure the Caesar salad dressing.  Din looks at you with an expression somewhere between amusement and a grimace, then mime points at the empty plates before giving Lisa a friendly squeeze of the shoulder.

Not letting him escape quite so easily, Lisa directs her question at Din but keeps her eyes fixed upon her husband, “Din.  Please remind Poe how very important it is that we accommodate the literal one food request that our very special guests made for today’s BBQ?”

Oh.  That’s why the Caesar salad is a big deal.  Although, you’ve been told, Fett family BBQs are a regular festive occurrence, this particular iteration was going to be more than the usual casual get-together.  Din had already given you the heads up that a few members of the Pyke Syndicate would be in attendance tonight and for a very special reason: Boba’s niece (by which sibling, you embarrassingly could not recall.  Boba seems to have a lot of siblings) had gotten herself engaged to Rikard Pyke, son of the head of the Syndicate.  It could have all been very Montague and Capulet-esque, except that young folks tend to more pragmatic than their elders gave them credit for; there was no secret relationship or ignoring the realities of their families – the happy couple openly announced their decision to date years ago after connecting at some unsuspecting mutual friend’s birthday party and had been inseparable ever since.  They weathered all of their respective families’ strong attempts to discourage the relationship, some deeming it impractical if not downright dangerous, with grace and unwavering resolve.  Cassandra and Rikard simply ignored all the naysayers and family politics and proceeded as two people in love would under normal, non-mob related circumstances:  they courted, they moved together, they intended to marry.  Tonight would be your first time meeting them, but you’re already predisposed to liking them.  Everyone in both families seemed to love them quite well and Din’s opinion was that they seem to be very much in love, a nice couple indeed.  “Rikard has a good head on his shoulders.  Seems like a good kid,” he had said.  When you chucked that he said it as if he hadn’t done a deep background check on the poor kid, Din had simply shrugged, looking sheepish.  The happy couple, however, were not the special guests to which Lisa was referring. 

In an effort to support the engaged couple, the Fetts and Pykes have been playing nice, knowing (and perhaps in some cases, resigned to the idea) that their families were soon to be connected by marriage.  You’ve been told that tonight, a few members of the Pyke Syndicate would be attending the BBQ as Cassandra and Boba’s special guests.  An extension of trust, a gesture of good faith, a coming together of brethren.  And apparently, they wanted Caesar salad.

Din attempts to hand Lisa an empty plate, perhaps to encourage her to eat as a distraction, but Poe quickly snatches it out of Din’s hand, likely afraid of Lisa throwing it at his head.  It’s not often you side with Poe, but you think he might be on to something.  “Does it have to be a specific type of Caesar dressing?” you ask Lisa, drawing her attention away from Poe.

“No,” she sighs, “they just asked for Caesar salad.  I would make one but I don’t have all the ingredients.”

“I can make a simplified Caesar vinaigrette? We can even make it a little spicy if you want,” you offer; it’s actually a fairly easy recipe - people who have tasted it always marvel that it doesn’t contain any anchovies, “Why don’t I make a batch?  You can taste it and see if it works?”

Lisa looks torn between wanting to kiss you and not wanting to let her husband off the hook so easily, but eventually the need to get things done wins out.  When Lisa turns to the fridge to get you the parmesan and elephant garlic you ask for, Poe mouths ‘I love you’ at you before escaping out the back door.  Din brings you a glass of wine before leaving with his own tower of food. 

You make quick work of the dressing, all while listening to Lisa vent about her husband’s inability to remember the simplest tasks; you nod at her sympathetically which seems to calm her down significantly, “Oh, I’m so sorry for venting.  I’m just so stressed out!  This barbeque has to go well!  The wedding is in a few short months and there is still so much I have to do!”

“You’re planning the wedding?” you ask, somewhat shocked.

Lisa nods, “I have help, of course, but Boba and Rikard’s dad, Lom, decided that it might be easier to keep the peace if someone other than the parents or higher-ups was in charge of the planning.  Someone more neutral,” she rolls her eyes, “You know, if you had started dating Din a few months earlier, it might have been you!”

You both giggle uncontrollably at this. 

Lisa is giving your vinaigrette the thumbs up when Fennec comes in, carrying a little white pit bull in her arms.  Lisa looks like she wants to say something about dogs in her kitchen, but thinks the better of it; you, on the other hand, greet Fennec warmly and Mochi with scritches and kisses. 

“Everything okay in here?” asks Fennec, “The Mods say that the Pykes are about 25 minutes away.”

You grin at the mention of the Mods.  While you haven’t met any of Fennec’s personal team of spies yet, you’re terribly curious about them.  Where the Mandos handled physical security, which could sometimes include on-site surveillance and reconnaissance, the Mods were straight up digital sleuths; they could dig up online dirt on anyone and no one has ever been beyond their digital reach. Apparently able to hack into even the most secure systems, they never failed to locate and capture footage of even the most elusive of targets.  You once wondered if Fennec had them dig up info on you; it was probably their most boring assignment to date if she had.

Their stealthy online behaviour unmatched, the Mods were just as elusive in the real world, often hiding in plain sight and doing their jobs expertly, unnoticed by the crowds.  You’re not sure how they managed to blend in so well given that they were all supposedly gorgeous and impossibly stylish – which is how they had come to be nicknamed The Mods (short for “The Models”); a fun fact you learned when you asked if the name was somehow a play on the Mando moniker.  Your hysterical guess of “The Mondos?” had earned you a tickle attack from Din that took your sides the better part of an hour to recover from.  Nevertheless, they had all been at Boba’s birthday and you can’t say you noticed any of them; though perhaps with everyone at that party having been dressed up to the nines, you had a lesser chance than usual of spotting a Mod.  You’re going to be on the look out again tonight.

“Everything is perfect!” beams Lisa, spearing a few dressed romaine leaves and a crouton on a fork and holding it out to Fennec.  You giggle as you watch Mochi try to lap at the fork with his little tongue; booping him on his little nose to distract him while Fennec eats, you coo, “You can’t have that, Mochi – it has too much garlic.”

Fennec makes noises of approval as she chews, “Good.  Everyone is on high alert, but once our guests eat and get comfortable, hopefully things will relax.”

With Lisa satisfied, the three of you make up your plates to head out and join the others in the backyard.  Just before opening the backdoor, Fennec turns and shrugs at you, “Oh.  Mayfeld saw Din and asked about… garlic knots?”

You giggle while Lisa rolls her eyes.  “No problem,” you grab the dish with your free hand and Lisa holds the door open for you and her to join the lively scene together.  The backyard is huge – the stairs from the deck descend to a large patio area, currently home to several L-shape formations of patio furniture, one of which is arranged around a fancy gas fire pit.  Several barbeques sit on the border of the patio and lawn, heat waves and smoke emanating from the food being grilled; Brian and Poe currently doing their best grill master impressions.  The expansive rolling lawn is littered with tables and chairs, ending only where you can see a pool filled with laughing and splashing children.  The entire backyard is bordered by a beautiful flower garden that wafts a sweet, sticky floral scent atop the aroma of cooked food.  There are dogs everywhere and you wish you had brought Al.

It's around one of the tables on the lawn that you find Din sitting with Boba and some Mandos, talking probably in a manner probably more serious than you would expect for a BBQ, but that doesn’t stop him from pulling you into his lap when you approach and encouraging you to stay and eat with a squeeze of your waist.  You hand the dish of garlic knots to Mayfeld who is already making the grabby hands gesture at you; when he’s got a firm grip on the casserole dish, Paz reaches out and smacks him on the back of the head, without breaking from what he’s saying to Boba, “… Peli says she’s okay.  Had to talk her down from staying behind with a baseball bat though.  We got it patched up before coming over.”

You look wide eyed at Din, worried.  Paz sees your expression as well and with a nod from Boba, loops you in, “Just a little vandalism, Lil’ Lady.  Someone just broke the knob off the drycleaner’s front door so Peli thought she was trapped inside before remembering she has a back door too.”

Nodding, you try to make a face like you’re relieved it’s ‘just a little vandalism’, but that must have been scary for Peli.  You know about the flare up of these types of incidents and other similar skirmishes from Din, of course, but you’re mainly removed from it all except for what Din tells you.  But Peli’s is close.  You know her.  The low hum of something… something like escalation feels like it’s just around the corner. 

“Peli is okay, pretty bird.  Not letting her stay with a baseball bat is safer for everyone, really,” Din smiles gently at you.  You grin at the image of Peli brandishing a baseball bat with her excitable mannerisms and think you agree; a pensive look crosses your face shortly after however, “It’s so close to the gym, though.”

Boba nods, “Too close.  The gym is safe – no one would be stupid enough to come near it.  But those nearby may be targets just because of proximity.  Paz – I trust you and Din to draw up patrol plans.”  Paz and Din nod - both men realizing, as well, the significance of Boba feeling confident enough to speak on security matters in front of you.  The implication is lost on you though, as you continue to eat Lisa’s delicious pasta salad while Din draws circles on your thigh, grinning proudly. 

Boba shifts topics, “Ok, when the Pykes get here, I want the perimeter already covered and everyone in flank positions, but discreetly.  This is supposed to be a fun time, alright?”

Everyone around the table nods, Bo and Paz get up to prepare, but everyone else remains, eating and casually chatting until Fennec announces, “They’re here,” after getting a notification on her phone.

Man, the Mods are good, you think, as Poe and Lisa disappear into the house even before the front doorbell chimes.  Poe’s exuberant voice can be heard from the backyard getting closer and closer until the kitchen door opens and he and Lisa step out, followed by six strangers.  The first two must be Cassandra and Rikard, the happy couple; they’re both beautiful and their easy-going smiles as they wave and greet everyone give you the sense that they’re the ones really grounding this entire, very unique, situation.  Behind them are four men, ages ranging from mid-20s to Boba’s age, each holding a plate loaded heavily with food.  With amusement, you notice the abundance of Caesar salad on each of their plates.

You feel Din’s lips by your ear, as he quietly acquaints you with tonight’s special guests. “The youngest one is Gorak – that’s Rikard’s cousin.  Kind of a little hothead, dabbles a bit in the boxing circuit.  He’s not bad, but no discipline, so we don’t see him in fights often.  The two twins are the uncles, Mok and Dokk; they head up some business lines for the Pykes that… Boba isn’t involved in.  There's no business conflict, so they’ve always been friendly.  The tall one in the back, that’s Marg, he’s like the consigliere – the Fennec to Rikard’s father.  He’s going to be here on behalf of the parents.”

“Rikard’s parents didn’t want to come?” you ask, curious.

“It’s not that.  It was decided they shouldn’t attend; if they did, it might look like business, like the Families were coming together for more than a barbeque.  Could make some other players nervous.  Sometimes the perception of an action means more than the actual intent.”

Oh, you think you see.  You suppose you have a lot to learn about this world. 

Fennec is right, the initial moments of everyone coming together is sort of awkward and tense, but after everyone’s got some food in their stomachs, things start to relax and the vibes in the backyard mellow once again.  All of this is helped along by Lisa’s excellent hostessing and Poe’s charm. 

Din introduces you to Cassandra and Rikard, and you’re immediately taken with them.  They’re smart, funny, and just incredibly down to earth.  You can see why this is the couple that could lead the two Families to put down their pitchforks.  They’re both junior associates at a law firm downtown; it’s not a firm any of your clients use but you mention that you have a friend, Jen, who practices family law at another firm, and the three of you trade some funny case anecdotes.  When the conversation turns to wedding planning, Din and Rikard excuse themselves while you, Lisa and Cass (as she now insists you call her) join some others on the lawn.

Cass is stressed.  Wedding planning is no joke and time consuming - time she doesn’t have a lot of; you remember your days as a junior at your firm and the hours being indeed relentless.  Even with Lisa and her aunties’ help, you can see she’s feeling at a bit of a loss.  You don’t want to volunteer Rory’s expertise, but you do offer to do some research on some vendors, figuring you can always ask Rory if your research results are up to snuff.  Cass says she wishes she was marrying you.

When Cass’s mom notes that you wore a lovely white dress to Boba’s birthday, you mention the name of Rory’s bridal boutique and all the women collectively swoon.  Apparently, they haven’t even bothered to try and shop there due to the exclusivity, but know all the best designs are there.  You very noncommittally say you’ll ask around to see if there are any openings, and find yourself in the middle of a very exuberant and high-pitched, squealing group hug.  Straining your neck out from the tangle of arms, you see Din and Paz looking over laughing.  Din is giving you a “What’s going on?” gesture with his hands while smiling broadly.  You smile back and mouth, “Help!” with good humour.

After the children are put to bed or taken home early, the drinks start to flow and the party hits a new level.  Someone brought cigars (Mayfeld?) and Boba and the Pyke men all partake, furling a light haze of smoke that hangs around the patio lantern lights.  You enjoy your wine while helping Lisa cleanup, periodically being pulled into side conversations with Cass or Mandos you know.  As much as you can, you curl up in Din’s lap and listen to him joke and chat with his friends.  It’s turned out to be a wonderful evening, despite you still not having spotted any of the Mods.

“I think they’re made up,” you whisper to Din, jokingly.

“No, no, they’re very real, they just live in the wires,” laughs Din, “like the Matrix.”

“Oh!  Well, if they look like Keanu and Carrie Ann Moss, then it’s no wonder they’re called the Models,” you say dreamily.

“Keanu, eh?  Is that your type?” Din nudges you ear with his nose teasingly.

“He’s everyone type,” you grin, still with a far-off look.

Din pretends to push you off his lap, “Well if that’s the case, then –” but he’s interrupted by raised voices coming from the middle of the lawn.  The two of you look over and you see Woves and Gorak facing each other, standing bodies rigid in aggressive stances, their lawn chairs tipped over backwards behind them. 

You can’t even process what they’re yelling about, just that the volume is increasing and the tone is getting sharper.  Koska comes to stand by Woves, her look murderous.  You see Jimmy and Brian inching closer.  Mok, Dokk and Marg have already come to stand behind Gorak, backing him up.  Dogs everywhere are barking.

Din gently slides you off his lap, then moves you behind him before walking towards the commotion; he extends his arm behind him as if to ask you to stay put.  You look around: Lisa looks panic stricken, Poe is standing with Cass and Rikard, all three of them looking at a loss, Boba remains sitting with Fennec.  Remembering your little lesson about interpreted actions from Din earlier this evening, you understand why: any move Boba makes will be perceived as an official move by the Family, and it will embolden the Mandos, likely turning a small altercation into an official first strike from the Fetts.  If he were to enter the fray, the situation would escalate no matter what.  As it is, the situation is escalating all well on its own - the Pykes are outnumbered and surrounded, their hackles up. 

Boba catches your eye and gives you a little nod and your eyes soften in comprehension.  Every step that an official Fett family member takes right now counts as a move against the Pykes, but you’re not official.  You’re just you.  You follow Din and see him hovering with Paz in Woves’ periphery, both men holding their shoulders taut and their fists clenched.  You slip between them easily and slide your hand over Din’s fist, his hand relaxes instinctively and opens to hold yours.  You look up at him with a gentle expression while giving his hand a reassuring squeeze and watch as the tension melts from his handsome features and rolls off his body.  He seems to calm and understand the situation at your touch.  Your other arm links through Paz’s and he looks down at you, surprised at your appearance.  You watch as his expression and stance also soften under your calm hands.  He and Din look at each other, comprehension passing between them and they turn in unison and walk away.  You continue to move closer to the action, picking up your casserole dish which has a lone three garlic knots remaining, and you gently push it into Mayfeld’s hands as you come up next to him; at your encouraging smile, he also seems to come to – grinning back and trotting off in the opposite direction while stuffing his face.  Suddenly you’re not the only figure that’s weaving between the figures still locked the stand-off; Cass and Rikard have come over to pat the arms of the uncle twins, telling them that this isn’t anything to get worked up about.  Poe throws his arm around Jimmy's shoulders in a playful manner, and you hear Lisa’s voice call from the deck, “I’m turning on this chocolate fountain now, and I expect every person here to help me clear this dessert station!”

There’s a beat of silence before Marg calls out, “Is there any more Caesar salad?”  Everyone laughs and just like that, the tension is broken.  Even Gorak and Woves stand down, and although they don’t make nice, they both turn to head in with everyone else; Marg’s steady hand on Gorak’s shoulder keeping him at a distance from the Mando.

Din’s waiting for you at the base of the stairs, wrapping his arm around your waist as you file up the stairs with everyone else; you nuzzle you head a little into Din’s shoulder and half jokingly say, “Is this really a good time to be giving everyone fruit skewered on pointy sticks?”

Din turns when he hears a belly roaring laugh at your joke coming from one of the Pyke uncles, and looks down to see you turn and give the man a heart stopping smile and wink.  He can’t believe it - you cheeky flirt, he thinks, making a rival family member fall in love with you.

Inside, you load up two dessert plates for yourself and Din and bring them to a side counter where he’s chatting quietly with Boba.  You’re almost hesitant to interrupt but when you slide the heavy plates onto the marble, Boba smiles big at you.  He hands you Mochi and then places both his hands on your shoulders and leans in to kiss your forehead, “You did good, my dear.”

You scrunch up your face in mild embarrassment, “Oh, I mean… it’s okay…” not sure what to say so you just start feeding Mochi strawberries.  Boba looks at Din and reiterates, “She did good.”

“Yeah,” Din echos softly, his eyes watching you with a mixture of pride and love.

---

After stuffing your faces with dessert, you and Din escape to the backyard for a private moment and to avoid Lisa’s attempts to force more food on your plates.  Finding the seats around the roaring fire pit empty, you sit with your back against the corner piece, legs draped over Din’s as he pulls you close.  Foreheads pressed together, he kisses you gently and sweetly, not wanting things to get too heated should the two of you be interrupted.

“Thank you, pretty bird,” says Din quietly.

“For what?”

Din looks thoughtful, even though he’s the one that brought it up, “I don’t know how you do it.  You bring the calm.”

You confess and joke simultaneously, “Do I really?  I have to admit, I don't always feel very calm. Are you sure I don't bring the chaos?”

Din pinches your thigh with love, “I’m serious, baby.  Somehow you melt away all the stress and make me see clearer.  Not just me either, saw you do the same thing to Paz tonight.”

You give him a little kiss and nuzzle his nose, whispering conspiratorially, “... you make it sound like I have powers.”

“Whatever it is, you bring me back to myself when I need it the most.  I love you, pretty girl.”

“I love you too, Din.  I love that I can do that for you, soothe you and bring a sense of calm.  You do that for me too, you know?  You’re my rock, baby.”

Din presses his lips to your, beckoning you to open up to him and when you do, he lightly strokes your tongue with his, eliciting a low groan from the back of your throat that you think might be too scandalous for this barbeque.  Pulling away slightly, you nibble a little on Din’s lower lip before tucking yourself into your favourite nook under his jaw and shyly bring up something you’ve been thinking about for a while, “You know, Din… if you’re ever stressed or have had a hard day, and you need something more than a calming touch, you can… use me?”

“Hmmmm?” Din looks down at you, not sure if he’s understanding.

Feeling timid under his piercing gaze, you press on but keep your face pressed to Din’s neck so you don’t make eye contact with him, “Like… if you’re frustrated, and you need to take it out on some… one.  I can take it.  Let me absorb all the bad… and like you said, melt it away.”

You feel Din’s hard swallow before he gives a little cough, “Pretty bird, are you saying you want me to take out my frustrations by fucking them into you?”

You nod, “If you need to, Din.  You can use me for stress relief.”  Finally having the courage to look up at him, you find Din's eyes warm and loving as he whispers just one phrase, “Dream girl,” before descending on your mouth again.

Your kissing is sensual and open, a connection between two people who have no secrets and can be their purest, most vulnerable selves with each other.  Din’s touch is tender and reverent and you worship him right back, letting him know you’re there and you can be whatever he needs, whenever he needs it - you love him so much.  The two of you don’t break apart for a long time, not even when people start spilling back into the backyard. 

---

The evening ends an hour or so later with everyone leaving on pleasant terms.  You’re thanked again for both the salad dressing and your help with the upcoming wedding.  A final toast is given by Boba to the happy couple and it warms your heart deeply to see two people so in love and so steadfast in their commitment to face and conquer adversity together.  The cheers elicited are joyous and genuine, the evening a great success.

Walking back to Din’s truck, hand in hand, you’re sated with good food and drinks, carrying the festive feel of the evening with you as you hum a little tune to yourself.  Din trails a little behind you, filled with a surge of pride for all that you are. 

And that you’re his. 

He’s parked about fifteen cars away from the Dameron residence, a little past the last house on this block where the road rounds into a large turnabout bordered with lush trees and other flora and fauna meticulously maintained by the neighbourhood HOA.  He hadn’t meant to park so far but now he’s glad he’s got you away from the prying eyes of Poe’s neighbours and their porch cams. 

While you may currently be carefree and lighthearted, Din is full of deep emotion.  He’s overwhelmingly proud, in love, and awestruck.  His head is full of you.  You, you, you.  His admiration isn’t new: you’re sweet and funny, smart and kind - he’s always been proud just to know someone like you, and even prouder to be with you, to be the one you choose.  But tonight is different, it’s a different type of esteem – one that threatens to explode out of his chest.  You.  You’re it for him.  He never thought he would find someone like you.  Someone who could fit so seamlessly into his life, into his world, and make both better.  You helped.  You were sweet and kind and giving to everyone.  You brought calm.  You made things good.  And you were his. 

He had believed you all those months ago when said you wouldn’t judge him or his family, but you did more than that: you accepted them as your own too.  Yes, you did it for him, but it was really just who you are.  Loving.  Giving.  You brought calm to all their chaos.  You made things brighter.  You made them stronger.  Him better.  He loves you so much right now he thinks he’s going to burn up.

As soon as you reach his truck, Din grabs you by the waist and spins you so you’re facing him and he pushes you into the side of the car, arm bracing the back window to cushion your head.

“Di-!”

His lips put a stop to your words as they crash against yours.  Normally so gentle and asking of permission, Din’s mouth is an unstoppable force tonight, kissing you as if there’s an overflowing pressure building inside him and kissing you is his one release valve.  An unashamed moan works its way up from your throat, escaping only when Din moves his aggressive kisses to your jaw and neck, leaving you opened-mouthed and panting.

“Oooohh, fuck!  Din, baby, what are you doing? Oh- god, that feels so good,” eyes closed, you’re already arching into him, pulling him closer to you by the back of his neck.

Din’s hand that isn’t cradling your head is on a frantic journey down your body.  He needs you now.  The current state of his feelings is running too deep, he can’t seem to articulate it to you or even himself - he has to show you.  Triumphantly, he finds the tie to your dress and pulls, causing half of the front of your dress to fall open, “Din!  We’re out in the open!”

Clawing down your partially exposed body, clamouring to find the inside tie that separate him from your soft body, Din pauses only to pull you away from the car so he can unlock the door; as soon as it opens, he walks you backwards and hops you up onto the seat, scooting you back so your legs dangle out the door. 

“There,” Din says huskily, as he finds the little knot on the right inside seam of your dress and tugs so it unfurls, “you aren’t out in the open anymore.”  He spreads apart the fabric of your dress so that you’re presented to him in your pretty pink mesh and ruffles lingerie set; he sucks in his breath. 

“Just for you, daddy,” you coo.  You knew Din wouldn’t be expecting something so flirty and naughty under the dress you had picked for what was supposed to be a casual and wholesome family event.

“Fuck.”  With his big mitt of a hand, Din pushes you down and lowers himself on top of you, nipping at your breasts and teething at your nipples through the soft sheer fabric of your bra.  He’s not gentle; he has something to declare tonight, and soft and sweet just won’t do the job.  His hands paw at your tits while he continues to tug and twist with his mouth; you’re writhing and whimpering beneath him, body set alight - the thought flashes through your arousal muddled mind that you might actually come just from nipple play alone tonight.

Then Din’s gone, mouth and hands traveling down your body, bending his knees and bracing them on the baseboard of his truck, Din kisses your navel and trails his nose down the front of your panties, “Mmm, so fucking sweet, pretty girl.”

“Din!  Pleas-please,” you cry out, turned on out of your mind by the debauched imagery of your bare legs hanging out of the car while Din presses his face to your cunt; you need him to touch you.

“You need daddy’s tongue, baby?”

You can only mewl and nod.

Din isn’t in the mood to tease tonight, he’s too pent up with near paralyzing feelings of veneration for you – he’s ready to worship.  Pulling back slightly so he’s face to face with the darkened spot on your panties, he hooks them to the side to take in your glistening pussy, watching it want and ache for him for just a moment before he dives in.

He devours you.  Tongue licking and stroking your slit, Din swirls the sticky mess already pooled into his mouth and stuffs it back into your cunt with his open mouth kisses.  You shudder and grab onto Din’s hair as he fucks his tongue into you, pressing him deeper as your hips start to move all on their own.

“Fuck – yes, ride my face, pretty bird.”

“Ngh – Daddy! Feels so good.  Love how your mouth feels on my needy pussy,” you moan as softly as you can so the sound doesn’t carry out the open car door.

As your hips start to buck a little harder, Din’s hands move back up your body and start worrying your nipples again; still sensitive from his attentions earlier, you gasp and arch your back, grazing your clit against Din’s nose.  You let loose a high-pitched whine, eyes flying open, “Daddy!  Right there!”

Grinning so hard you can feel it, Din continues to feast on your dripping hole but angles his face up so that his strong aquiline nose nudges your throbbing clit again.  Rewarded when your grasp on his brown curls tighten, he starts to prod your bud in a pattern, alternating between pressing and releasing, and drawing sloppy circles with the tip of his nose.  When he feels your legs start to shake and your walls start to clamp down on his tongue, Din speeds up his attentions on your bundle of nerves, burrowing his nose in deep and rubbing vigorously, shaking his entire head.  Your hands release Din’s hair at the onslaught and fly up to cover your face, as if you can somehow hide from what’s coming; when Din’s hands pull up on your nipples, you crest and scream – tumbling over the edge and letting yourself be carried away by the waves of your orgasm.

Arm now thrown over your eyes, you’re too focused on catching your breath to feel Din pulling your ass past the edge of the car seat and turning you over so your mouth is pressed into the warm leather.

Only after the tip toes of your shoes touch the asphalt does Din flips the skirt of your dress over your back, and that’s when you register the cool breeze of the night air hitting your ass.

Din spoons your bent over body and murmurs deep in your ear, “Gonna fuck you now, bunny.  Not going to be gentle, okay?”

Your eyes are still closed as you nod into the seat and whisper, “Okay, daddy.”

Din takes out his cock, already hard and weeping with precum, and slaps it against your creamy pussy - once, twice, three times; each slap causing you to give a little jump and shudder in anticipation of the incoming intrusion.

Chuckling darkly, Din notches the tip at your entrance and pushes in as he folds his body over yours, holding you close and pinning you down as he bottoms out.

As promised, it’s not gentle; but here, in the backseat of his truck, where his chest is flattened against your back and his face pressed to your hair, it’s intimate.  Rough and hard.  Loving and full of feeling.

Din’s voice is low and gruff in your ear - words of praise and all his overwhelming feelings spill out as he ruts into you at a demanding pace.

“Do you know how perfect you are, pretty bird?”

“You’re everything.” 

“My everything.”

He drives into you over and over, punching the air out of your lungs each time.  Whenever you inhale, Din captures your lips with his immediately after – as if trying to steal these breaths as well.  Fervent kisses the only break from his ongoing ramblings of praise:

“So proud you’re my girl.”

“You’re so good to me.  So good to my family.”

Thrust.  Thrust.  Slap.  Slap.

“You know how much Boba trusts you?  Trusts my perfect girl?  Talking about Mando business in front of you.” 

Thrust.

“You’re one of us, baby.” 

Slap. 

“My girl, welcomed into the fold.  Fuck – I’m so proud.”

The squelching noises of your wet cunt being punished reverberate through the truck’s cabin, accompanied by the percussion of slapping skin and an obscene harmony of grunts and moans.  You can only hope that your sinful symphony is confined to the car and not travelling through the otherwise silent neighbourhood.

“Fucking saving Poe’s ass and the entire BBQ with that fucking salad dressing.”

Sqlch. 

“You don’t even know how important you are and the things you do are.  You impressed the fucking Pykes, pretty girl.”

Sqlch. 

“Helping with the wedding?  You’re so sweet, so fucking sweet…”

Fwop.  Fwop.

Din’s weight continues to pin you down and crush your lungs in the best way possible.  Between the panting from the pounding your pussy is taking and the way your clit is twitching against the seam on the edge of the leather seats as Din ruts into you, you can hardly take a proper breath; the lack of oxygen is leaving you dizzy and light headed – you’re quickly barrelling towards oblivion again.

“You don’t even know, you don’t even know…”

“Perfect, perfect, perfect, perfect…”

Thrust.  Huff.  Thrust.  Huff.

“You don’t just take care of me, you take care of my family… you accept my family.”

Thrust.  Thrust.

Din’s hips start to stutter, he’s close, so close. 

“You’re the only one.  The only one who can do what you do.”

Huff.

“You prevented that fight.”

Thrust.  Huff.

“You have me wrapped around your little finger, baby.”

You can barely draw enough breath to chant, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy...

“Not just me.  Paz. All the Mandos.”

Slap. Slap.

“Sexiest, most powerful woman there tonight.  Every night.”

Thrust.  Thrust.

“Pretty bird, what did I do to deserve you?”

Slap.  Slap.

“Don’t deserve you.”

Thrust.

“But you’re mine.”

Din’s babbling praise ends with the growl of that last, possessive proclamation and the contrast of his tone, the sheer power and darkness that laces the word ‘mine’ compared to the honey-dripped praise that’s been pouring from his mouth the whole time he rails you, snaps the tightly coiled band in your core and you come, clenching hard on Din’s length with a force that sends him straight to the moon.  He grunts and pants as he spills his seed deep, claiming you and clawing all he’s professed to love tonight for his own.

After lifting off of you to allow your breathing to even, Din wipes the sweat off his brow and looks around to make sure that your activities haven’t attracted the attention of any of Poe’s nosy neighbours.  Satisfied that the two of you are still alone, Din presses butterfly kisses down your spine before gently turning you over and helping you right your underwear and retying your dress the best he can.  You’re hot and tired, still drunk on the mind-blowing orgasm brought on by Din’s rough handling and his heavy praise.

Tenderly kissing you, Din murmurs, “Do you want to just lay down in the back seat, sweetheart?  You can sleep while I drive home.”

You shake your head drowsily, “No, I want to ride up front with you.  I like it when you hold my hand when you drive.” You’re smiling so sweetly at him, Din thinks his heart might explode.  He’s just laid his heart bare, practically smothering you with it and letting his all-consuming love burn you up, and you still want more of his touch.

Grinning like a fool, he buckles you into the front seat of his truck, “I love you, pretty bird.”

“I love you more, Din,” you purr back, eyes half closed, a soft, sleepy smile tugging at your lips.

After he closes your door, on his way to the driver’s side, he shakes his head to himself, Impossible.

[marsxcutie]

Fixation│Jonathan Crane x Reader

Fixation - Part 3, Part 2, Part 1

A/N: I did not anticipate this story to be this much of a slow burn (imo) sorry! Jonathan is such a gentleman (for the most part) in this chapter eeeek. REST ASSURED THINGS PICK UP IN THIS PART! This man moves quickly. Some random time skips because I for one hate a play by play and I'm sure others do too, I know why ya'll are here (-ω-)ω-)

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Female Reader

Synopsis: (Y/N) is Arkham's new lead psychologist in the developing acute pediatric unit. Dr. Crane soon becomes fixated on the pretty young doctor. Is she just as fixated on him?

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: home invasion, bondage, scarecrow (yes! he's a warning), fear toxin usage, spiders (not real), reader is drugged

The rest of your first day was a bit of a blur, honestly the interaction with Elias had scared you. You were usually more of a brave soul but knowing that this man and a lot of other men just like him were in the same building as you everyday was unsettling, even if you weren’t working directly with them. Maybe you were in over your head. It would be at least a couple months until you even worked with patients, as the pediatric unit isn’t even fully built yet. 

You gently rubbed your eyes as you walked back down the cobblestone path towards the gate. Today has taken a lot out of you. You didn’t live far but the thought of walking home was more intimidating than usual. You suddenly felt hyper aware of just how vulnerable you truly were. 

“(Y/N).” Someone called after you. You stopped and turned, Dr. Crane now walking towards you. “You weren’t planning on walking home this late were you?” He looked down at you with a worried expression. 

“Oh, I don’t live far.” You gave Dr. Crane a reassuring smile.

“A lady like you shouldn’t be walking alone this late. I can give you a ride?” He bit back saying something about how beautiful you are, probably not appropriate after knowing your colleague for a day. 

“If you don’t mind, I would appreciate it.” You smiled softly, honestly you were relieved. 

“I’m parked around the back.” He gestured to the path that led around the side of the building. You nodded and followed him around the side and to the back of the building. The path led to a small parking lot, where a few cars were parked. “We park back here to reduce patients potentially seeing what we drive.” He clicked a button on his keys and a black mercedes benz with tinted windows lit up and beeped. He walked you to the passenger side and opened the door for you. “Thank you.” You smiled and slid into the seat. He closed the door gently and moved back around to the driver's side.

“I’ll need directions.” He chuckled, he was already out of the parking lot and driving down the road. “Oh right,” you smiled sheepishly, “It’s just a couple blocks straight up the road.” 

It didn’t take long for you to point out your apartment building and Dr. Crane pulled over to the side next to the sidewalk. “I’ll get your door.” He got out and walked around to your side, opening the door and offering you his hand. You took his hand and looked up at him, but his gaze wasn’t on you, his head was turned towards the sidewalk, a stern look on his face. You followed his gaze to a man sitting on the sidewalk, holding a cardboard sign. You squeezed his hand, “That’s Gary, he’s harmless.” 

“Let me make sure you get inside safe, you never know what someone is truly capable of.” Dr. Crane stepped aside to let you lead the way. You rolled your eyes playfully and headed up the stairs to the entrance. “Hi Gary.” You smiled at the man next to the stairs, Gary grumbled out a greeting to you and you looked back at Dr. Crane as to say see?

You made your way down the apartment building hallway, your door being the one at the very end. You didn’t open your door but instead turned your back to it, preparing to say goodnight to Dr. Crane. “Thank you for the ride home Jonathan.” He gave you a small smile, “It’s no problem (Y/N). I’ll see you tomorrow.” Not waiting for a reply, he turned and made his way back out to the front of the building. 

You waited until he was out the entrance until you turned around and unlocked your door. After all, you never know what someone is truly capable of. 

—

You woke up early the next morning, completing your morning ritual which consisted of doing your hair, makeup, and picking out a cute (professional) outfit. You opted for a pair of pixie dress pants and a pinstripe button up, leaving maybe a few too many buttons undone. You did a subtle smoky eye look, and left your hair down. 

As you made your way into the kitchen you couldn’t help but notice all the new raindrops on the window. It was raining hard and you now dreaded the walk to work. “Shit.” You muttered, looking at the time, you had to leave like now. You quickly made your way to the closet and dug out an old umbrella, slipping on your heels and jacket. You made your way out of the building, you could barely see the street. It was raining so hard. You stood under the last little bit of protection you had and went to open the umbrella, with no luck. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Tears pricked at your eyes, there was no way you could walk to work in this weather without an umbrella, even with an umbrella you’d probably still be soaking. 

“Need a ride?” A voice from the street called out. You tried to squint through the heavy downpour to see who was calling out to you. The figure made its way towards you, holding an umbrella. 

“Jonathan, what are you doing here?” You said in a harsher tone than you had meant to when your colleague appeared before you. 

“I’m sorry, I hope this isn’t an intrusion. I saw how hard it was raining this morning and didn’t want you catching a cold.” 

He seemed genuine, and that was very thoughtful of him to consider that you had to walk to work in the rain. You sighed and gave him a smile, “I’m sorry, it’s just been a hard morning already.” 

He shook his head, “No worries, are you ready?” He offered his arm, and you gratefully took it, stepping out from under the small protection you had to under his umbrella. He walked you to his car, making sure you didn’t slip. 

The ride to work was short but even in the car the roads were hard to see. Jonathan seemed to manage the drive with no problem though. He gave you a sense of safety that not a lot of other people have before. It definitely helped his case that he was so handsome. You couldn’t help but admire his features as he drove. His eyes were so pretty and you didn’t even want to think too hard about his lips..knowing where your mind would wander. 

"We'll be spending the day together again. We're quite short staffed right now." Jonathan broke you out of your trance. You let out a small laugh, "I don't mind spending the day with you." You internally rolled your eyes at yourself for how corny you sounded. Jonathan shifted his gaze to you and smiled.

— later that evening —

The work day had gone by very quickly, honestly it had kind of been a blur. The last thing you clearly remembered was drinking a coffee that Jonathan had brought you from the break room. Everything after that seemed to blur together, your head in a daze. Jonathan had given you a ride home again but you honestly couldn't recall how you got in your bed. You looked up at the ceiling, your bedroom light going in and out of focus. You blinked hard, trying to focus, to no avail. You tried to sit up, but your arms felt numb. You fell back onto your pillows, your head slumped to the side and you lost consciousness.

You slowly blinked your eyes open, your vision fuzzy. You tried to lift your arms but your movement was restricted by something. You struggled more but a wave of pain shot up your arm as something tightened around your wrists. You whimpered, slowly gaining more consciousness. Your legs were spread and you could not move them either. You thrashed your body violently, realizing the gravity of the situation. You opened your mouth to scream but you were quickly silenced. A man appeared over you, his hand covering your mouth. His head was covered by a burlap mask, stitches were sewn into the mask and his two holes were cut for the man's eyes. "Sh sh shhh." The man brought his face closer to yours. You screamed into his hand and trashed violently, trying to break free from your restraints. The masked man tightened his hand over your mouth, squeezing your face. You cried out in pain at his strength and continued your escape attempt. The man sighed and grabbed something from the bedside table with his free hand. "It seems you won't cooperate, what a shame." He climbed on top of you with a rag in his hand. "I need both hands doll, you understand." He removed the hand that was over your mouth and quickly replaced it with the rag, you screamed and wildly shook your head. He was far too strong, lifting up your head and tying the rag tightly around you. A strong smell from the rag filled your nose and you attempted a scream again. It was useless, being gagged quieted you. Tears streamed down the side of your face and you cried out against the rag. A hand gently caressed your face, "Look at me." You obeyed and looked up at the man. Your eyes widened in horror and you started sobbing harder. His mask had spiders crawling out of it, falling onto you. You screamed and closed your eyes, shaking your head violently. The weight of the man suddenly disappeared. You opened your eyes to see that he had gotten off of you, he grabbed a notebook from the side table, writing something down quickly. He put the notebook down, turning his head towards you. He rushed back to the side of the bed, his blue eyes boring into you.

Those eyes..

"What did you see?" He yanked the rag from your mouth and replaced it with his index finger, "Shshsh." He lowered his voice, "Tell me what you saw."

"S-Spiders." You whimpered, your body shuddering with sobs.

He tilted his head, and shoved the rag back into your mouth. He grabbed the notebook again, jotting something else down.

You looked around the room and screamed out against the rag once more. A giant spider was in the corner, crawling its way towards you, its long legs moving slowly. You trashed violently, turning your head towards your captor. You lifted your head, attempting to plead with him. He made his way back to you, grabbing your chin. "If I take the rag out, will you behave?" You nodded your head quickly, looking up at him with wide eyes. He gently pulled the rag out of your mouth.

"Please please please," you babbled, "Please make it stop." You cried, craning your head towards the man. He brought his face closer to yours, stroking your cheek with his fingertips. He said something that you couldn't understand and you felt a sharp pain in your arm. Your body reacted immediately, your senses going numb and your eyelids getting heavy. You fought against it, trying to keep your sight on the masked man but you couldn't fight it, your vision going black.

[fanficshiddles]

Eternally Mine, Chapter 4

‘Loki!’ Claire giggled as he kissed her neck repeatedly and leaned further over her. He had her on his desk in their classroom and was stood between her legs, attacking her with kisses.

She put her arms around his neck as he pulled her further to the edge of the desk, closer against him.

‘Well, someone is needy today.’ She giggled.

‘Always am with you around, my dear.’ He growled and sucked on her neck, making her whimper.

‘We might get caught.’ She laughed when he slid his hands underneath her top, his touch causing goosebumps to rise on her skin.

‘That’s a risk I am willing to take.’ He hummed against her neck as he continued to kiss and suck there, leaving wet trails on her skin.

It was the end of the day and all of the students had left, they’d stayed behind for Loki to do some marking and Claire was prepping the room for the next phase. Well, she had been until Loki called her over to him.

Loki directed his kissing to her lips, he slid his hands under her dress, glad of her choice of clothing that day, he moved his hand inside her knickers and began to touch her slowly and gently. She was already getting quickly aroused, her smell was making his head hazy.

Claire’s hands moved down and she couldn’t resist reaching round to squeeze his ass, making him chuckle against her. He slid his finger gently over her clit, making her whine.

‘Always so quick to get wet for me.’ He rumbled as he pulled away to unzip his zipper and push his trousers down far enough for his cock to spring free. He stroked himself a few times, then stepped back in towards her.

‘You’re just so irresistible.’ Claire smirked at him as she grabbed his shirt to pull him back down for another kiss.

Loki pulled her knickers to the side, he guided himself into her slowly. As usual, the initial feeling of Loki entering her took their breaths away. Claire loved the feeling of him stretching her, making her body accommodate him.

Claire wrapped her legs around him, holding on tight as he started thrusting into her roughly, making the desk move beneath them. Thankfully it was a strong desk, able to hold their weight and movements.

As the pleasure built between them, Loki slid his fingers through her hair and ended up tugging on some single strands, then he gathered it all into a fist and tugged her head back further so he could bite at her throat while growling.

The temptation to sink his fangs into her was so strong… but he didn’t want to do that outwith the house, to drain her. Though he did let his fangs emerge, so he could trail them along her delicate skin, making her moan.

‘Ohhh, Vampy…’ She whimpered and pushed back against his thrusts, trying to get him deeper.

Loki growled in a feral manner, but he kept himself in check and his fangs retracted as he quickened his thrusts.

‘Cum for me, my little slut. Cum all over my cock, I know you can’t hold off for much longer.’ He demanded.

She didn’t need to be told twice. Loki followed suit, spilling into her with one last groan. He pressed his forehead against hers, letting them both catch their breath as he remained still inside her.

‘We should do this much more often.’ He panted.

‘I’m surprised you’ve not initiated it more already.’ Claire giggled.

Loki heard movement from down the corridor, footsteps heading this way.

‘Shit… someone’s coming.’ Loki huffed as he reluctantly pulled out of her to tuck himself away.

Claire scrambled off the desk and sorted her clothes out. ‘This is probably why we don’t.’ She laughed.

They had just gotten themselves sorted out when David walked into the room, he instantly pulled a face.

‘Geez guys, it reeks of sex in here. At least open a window or something when you’re doing the dirty.’

Loki chuckled in response, while Claire hid her blushing face and tried to sort her tousled hair out.

‘I was coming to ask if you guys wanted to grab a beer with Jessica, Spencer Matt and I?’ David asked.

‘Yeah, I’m keen for that… Darling?’ Loki asked sweetly to Claire.

‘Yep. Think I definitely need a drink now.’ She laughed.

‘Ok, well get yourselves more presentable and will meet you at the entrance…’ David said as he turned and headed out of the room.

‘See you in a moment.’ Loki called after him.

They freshened up before heading to meet with the others. Of course, David had told them that he’d almost walked in on them having sex.

‘Uh, Loki… Might want to get that lipstick off your face before we go.’ Spencer said as he tapped his cheek.

Loki’s eyes widened. ‘What? I didn’t realise you were wearing lipstick!’ Loki said to Claire as he wiped his face, then pulled his phone out to have a look.

‘Aww, Spencer. Why did you tell him?’ Claire whined.

‘Wait… There’s nothing there.’ Loki frowned as he checked himself out on the flipped camera.

The others burst out laughing and began walking, Loki shot a glare at Claire and he rushed after her, making her laugh even more.

‘Double bluff.’ He growled at her and squeezed her side.

The group made their way to their usual pub, but on the way there, they came across a big crowd of people along an alley. Police were there, trying to keep everyone back as they put yellow tape across the alley to stop anyone from getting close.

‘What’s going on?’ David asked a bystander.

‘Someone’s found a body.’ The man said.

‘I’ll check.’ Loki said as he made sure no one was paying attention, then turned into a bat and flew up high over the crowd to take a look.

The others waited anxiously as they tried to see through the crowd of people, but all they could see was the high vis from the police.

‘I really hope it’s not a vampire.’ Jessica said quietly.

‘Surely not. The hunters have been quiet lately.’ Claire whispered.

When Loki returned and changed back into his vampire form, everyone knew by the look on his face it was a vampire. He looked pale, well paler than normal for a vampire.

‘Worse, it’s an ex-student that’s not long left the school. Alexander.’ Loki said low, so that only they would hear.

‘Alexander Bryce? He wouldn’t harm a fly, he was all for just taking from the blood bank.’ Matt said in shock.

Loki nodded. ‘I know. Which means the hunters are back and they’re not even caring about trying to see the good in some of us.’

‘We’ll need to be more careful, stick to being out in groups or at least two of us.’ Jessica said nervously.

‘We’ll need to let the others know, and of course tell the students to be careful. Maybe we should start up the nightly watch again, too.’ Loki said decisively.

The others agreed with him.

-

The following morning at school, Loki left Claire in charge of their class for a little while so he could go and speak to Chris about the hunters.

When he walked into his office, he frowned as Chris was putting on his leather jacket.

‘Where are you going?’ Loki asked.

Chris grinned widely. ‘I’m away to see Louise. Taking her on a lunch date.’

Loki’s eyebrows shot up. ‘You kept that quiet!’

‘Last minute decision. Said I was going to be in her neck of the woods today on some business and invited her out.’

‘You don’t have business in her area.’ Loki said knowingly as he folded his arms over his chest.

Chris shrugged. ‘I’ll make business there.’

Loki chuckled and shook his head. ‘Well, before you go. Alexander Bryce was found dead last night.’

Chris’ eyes widened. ‘You’re joking?’

‘I wish I was.’ Loki sighed.

‘Shit… hunters?’

Loki nodded.

‘They’re on the go again then. I’ll get security upped for the school, just in-case. Don’t want another attack here.’ Chris said angrily as he took his phone out and sent a few messages.

‘I think we should have an assembly, to alert the students.’ Loki suggested.

Chris nodded. ‘I’ll call Louise, see if we can reschedule for tomorrow.’ He said, though Loki could hear the disappointment in his voice.

‘I can handle it, you go see your soullllmate.’ Loki said a little teasingly with a smirk.

‘You sure?’ Chris asked, his face brightening.

Loki nodded. ‘After all, what are brothers for?’

Chris chuckled. ‘Thanks.’

[katuschka]

Olalla – Chapter Three

Josh Kiszka x female OC

8025 words

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere. Even though this chapter is still smut-free, the rest of the story won't be.

Warnings: angst, yearning, kissing, fluff, conflict and violent behaviour, alcohol consumption, slowburn, mental breakdown, LGBT themes, homophobia (World's not perfect and some people suck...not the main characters though, don't worry).

Taglist

Previous Chapter Olalla masterlist

What a wicked game you play, to make me feel this way What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you What a wicked thing to say, you never felt this way What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you

No, I don't wanna fall in love With you

Every once in a while, you experience something nice that somehow leaves a bitter aftertaste in your mouth. Just like when you’re watching a beautiful sunset, thinking about how trifling and unimportant our daily feuds and worries are in comparison to the macrocosm and its wonders. The moment feels so precious. …but the world keeps spinning and as soon as you turn around, you once again find yourself submerged in the stale waters of your petty life.

Not that she felt that her life was in any way stale. It was just that as soon as she closed the door behind him, the whole encounter seemed like a fever dream in retrospect. One she wished would continue, because during those few hours, everything felt so new, so out of ordinary, including the fact that it did not continue. 

So, she tried to rationalize it and eventually concluded that she didn’t want more. This felt right…albeit weird, because it was simply different. He was different, and therefore dangerous. 

Much more casual encounters often ended in fucking. It was her reality. The guys she willingly chose to spend time with were either not interested at all in the end, or didn’t want to let go. At least not until they got a taste of all of her. Either way, it ended up in relief. Rinse and repeat. Joshua’s touch remained imprinted on her skin like some sort of sensory tattoo, and it left her mind racing. The effect he had on her was pretty much unwelcome, the feelings that came with it were not particularly pleasant, but she involuntarily clung to them anyway. 

His goodnight was definitive, and even though it didn’t feel like a rejection, it stayed outside her threshhold, just as he did. The night that followed was not good at all. The subconscious mind is a bitch. She spent it tossing and turning and waking up in between shallow dreams filled with images of his face just within reach, yet she couldn't bring herself to touch it. Before the actual dawn, she dreamed about them sitting on top of a mountain, watching the Sun rise. He was singing again. 

Reality hit back when Agnieszka’s alarm clock rang at 4:30. Having fallen asleep long past midnight, and then again around two and three – because she couldn’t get the feeling of his lips on her cheek out of her head – she woke up with stinging eyes and a burning headache, with a long day ahead of her. She slowly dragged herself from the cozy bed to start preparing breakfast and snack-to-go packages for early hikers. 

She usually enjoyed this. Morning chats over coffee were generally warmer and gave her the opportunity to talk to the guests about more than just how their day went and to connect with others on a more personal level, while sitting at the same table with them. They were a nuisance today. It wasn’t their fault. Just a group of young women in their early 20s and a nice couple getting ready for their last hike before going back home the next day. Definitely not an unpleasant company. Without admitting it to herself, or even consciously thinking about it, she just wished he’d be one of them. 

He was probably still fast asleep when she left to do some early shopping before her daily chores. He was already gone when she came back. Visitors kept their keys, but they were asked to leave special hangers on their door handles when leaving, which proved useful in case they wanted to have their bathrooms cleaned or sheets changed. So, of course she checked his door. And then scolded herself for her unhealthy curiosity. 

She almost forgot about him by midday, too immersed in cleaning vacated rooms and getting them ready for new arrivals. Fridays and Saturdays were the most hectic of the whole week, with people generally coming or leaving at weekends. Finally, after three pm, she could get some rest and enjoy her afternoon coffee (with just a drop of Bayleys) behind the reception desk, reading the book she abandoned the previous evening, with just a few interruptions that day. 

At half past four, the bell above the main door chimed again and there he was, entering quietly, but turning to a full theatrical mode the moment he saw her. This guy must be fun at parties, no doubt about that. He spread out his arms and trotted like a musical actor right towards her in his brand new attire. “How do I look?” he asked while wiggling his eyebrows. 

At first she thought her heart would jump out of her chest when she saw him for the first time since the previous night, but his easygoing, comical behaviour immediately made her relax. “Like a walking Columbia advertisement,” she laughed. 

“Yeah, well, I normally prefer flannels, but the guy at the store said this is more appropriate. I hate polyester…unless it’s sparkly…but I’m willing to try this,” he shrugged – tugging at the fabric demonstratively – and leaned familiarly on the counter. “How was your day?”

“Busy and boring at the same time. I should be the one asking that question. Have you seen or done anything interesting today? I mean, apart from becoming one of us,” she finished the sentence with a quasi-sultry whisper and dared to lean in closer to him. The truth was that the dark tight-fitting crewneck accentuated his lean and firm figure in a way that made her feel a bit uneasy. That man wasn’t just “quite attractive”, he was sexy! Humour and banter was her usual way of dealing with unwelcome butterflies in her stomach. And it worked, because they both giggled before he answered. 

“Nothing much, just wandering around. I didn’t dare venture far before breaking in these,” he demonstratively lifted one leg to show her his right trekking boot. “Besides, I don’t know it here. I tried to follow some folks, but the path turned to a steep and stony one pretty soon and my feet hurt like hell after just a couple miles and…” 

“Wait a minute,” she started rummaging under the counter. “I forgot to give you these. Here are some maps and leaflets with touristic tracks. Stick to those if you don't want to be chased by a bear. Also, it’s a national park, so you just have to anyway. Also, tomorrow’s going to rain all day, so you might want to visit the Tatra Museum.”

“Oh, bummer. The whole day?” The meaning of everything he said was amplified tenfold by his wild gesticulations and body language. It was like watching a silent actor, except he wasn’t silent at all. “Thank you so much for these? Any recs for a good place to eat? I tried the one right at the end of the street yesterday. It was good, but I’d like to try something more local.”

She reached behind her for some more leaflets and handed him a couple. “There are a few nearby. We serve dinner to our guests as well, but you need to preorder it at least a day in advance…but that’s usually just a plain, home-cooked meal, nothing fancy.”

“But that sounds fantastic! I’m pre-ordering dinner for tomorrow then,” he beamed, and added hopefully: “Care to join me today?” “I can’t, I need to go help with the dinner in about an hour and then I have some more things to do in the evening.” His face fell with a silent oh and for a brief moment she actually did hate her job. Was he asking her on a date? It certainly felt that way. Maybe he just didn’t want to be alone. It didn’t really matter. He wanted her to say yes and she didn’t want to say no, and even if it meant just two people eating together, it would be just fine. He lingered awkwardly for a short while before he wished her a pleasant evening, hoping to see her again soon. She didn’t want to let him go just yet, not just like that… “Joshua, wait!”

“yes…?” he turned back to her with his arms flailing around like a marionette. 

“My dad throws a garden party for our guests every Sunday evening...if the weather allows, that is. His grilled pork chops are delicious,” she tried to sound as casual as possible to hide the fact that she really wanted him to join them. “I…ummm…am supposed to invite everyone,” she added. 

“That sounds great, but…I don’t really eat pork…or meat in general.” He looked almost sorry that he didn’t. 

“Oh! Well, there’s always mom’s redcurrant pie, and some grilled vegetables, too…” Pathetic. 

“Lovely! I'll be there.” And with a beaming smile, he disappeared upstairs. 

The next day started as blue-ish gray when she woke up and soon turned to just gray. Breakfast didn’t need to be served before seven, as half of the people were leaving that day and the other half simply weren’t in a rush. Some even cancelled, preferring to go have fancier pancakes with ice-cream and forest fruit in some café nearby. Heavy rain was drumming on the roof and terraces, and the clouds were hanging low, turning the surrounding hills into a haunting, misty landscape.   

It was a lazy, sleepy day. A perfect day for a massage, or to go to the sauna…if you were staying in one of the fancier lodgings. The residents of Willa Eulalia were mostly bored, with just TV or board games to pass time. 

Nothing really changed much for Agnieszka. If anything, Saturday proved to be even more hectic, because mother wasn’t feeling well. So, the usual routine consisting of vacuuming, changing the sheets and cleaning the toilets turned to be even more tiresome, as she had to do it all by herself. 

The house went almost completely silent after lunch. It was already almost two pm when she finally reached the attic to make the room opposite to Joshua’s ready for a new visitor. She didn’t have much time left; new guests would start coming shortly. 

It looked like he was still in his room, possibly having a nap. The rain only intensified after lunch and it was fairly easy to get drowsy here, right under the roof. She turned on the vacuum cleaner on the lowest setting and proceeded to do what she was supposed to, while fighting off obsessive thoughts about getting drowsy with him… 

She was almost done when she heard some disturbance coming from the other room. It sounded like him arguing with someone. Honouring the house’s number one rule “privacy first”, she collected all her things and aimed to leave the attic as quickly as possible. Not quickly enough, though, because his sudden loud “I don’t fucking care,” followed by something hitting the wall, stopped her in her tracks. It was followed by even more incoherent yelling. “Something was not his fault and some Sam should do something instead, and someone was advised to suck his dick (Figuratively speaking – she hoped, half amused.), otherwise she couldn’t make sense of the one-sided argument. The call ended and she was finally about to descend the stairs, when he suddenly opened the door, making her jump. She shot him a terrified look and his own expression wasn’t much different. “Sorry for the noise,” he finally mumbled. “...I…need some fresh air.” With that, he ran past her down the stairs. 

The whole encounter troubled her, but she didn’t have much time to ponder over it, as she already had to hurry back to the reception to resume her afternoon duties, noticing him on the veranda on her way there. 

She couldn’t stop thinking about it though. The lobby was connected with the back veranda by a wide, transverse corridor, so when she leaned forward a bit, she could easily see him from her place behind the counter. He was still standing there, leaning against the balustrade with his arms outstretched and his head bent down. It triggered her inner caretaker. She couldn’t just leave him there like that, so she poured some fresh water in the electric kettle behind the counter and rummaged through her little box of teabags. 

“Hey, I made you some tea,” she approached him with the steaming mug and placed it carefully on the balustrade next to him. He looked at it and smiled weakly. “Thanks, Sheldon.”

She laughed at the reference but he didn’t reciprocate, so she continued warily: “The ghost called again? “No, that was my twin brother this time.”

“You sounded a bit agitated. I thought…”

“Olalla, I really, really don’t want to be rude, but when I said I needed fresh air, I really meant I needed to be alone.” 

She was taken aback by that and her eyes widened at him. “I’m sorry, I…”

“Thanks for the tea,” he sighed and left, leaving her alone with her thoughts again. Slightly shaken this time. 

He disappeared for the rest of the day. 

He didn’t come to dinner that evening either. 

She stayed on the veranda for a few more minutes after he left, drinking the tea she made for him and watching fat raindrops splashing on the stony path leading to the fireside. She was mad at herself for letting him occupy her mind the way he did those past few days. For the first time in years, she allowed someone to get under her skin, and for what. Now it stung, and it would eventually get worse if she continued with this nonsense. Rinse and repeat. So, she just shrugged it off with an annoyed huff and put her walls back up, just like she always did. The path from hurt to pissed off to indifferent was a short and safe one. 

And then, just like a gift from above, the bell at the front door chimed and she hurried back to greet three young and carefree handsome men who were waiting for her at the reception desk. 

She knew them. They were their frequent guests, one of them being also her regular hook-up. She had been looking forward to seeing him and his radiant smile again, but then nearly forgot they were coming. It was a welcome distraction now, the only downside being her sister Maya who was also arriving the next day to spend a week…and Maya hated him. 

Agnieszka knew very well why. Maya hated fuckboys and Bartek was the epitome of that. Pretty and vain and often notoriously bad-tempered when challenged, which meant he hated her sister back with passion. However, that never stopped Agnieszka from welcoming him with open arms, because he always gave her what she wanted and he never wanted more. He was one of her wolves. So screw tomorrow, she needed some comfort now. As soon as she finished her daily tasks and he freshened up and got comfortable in his rented room after the long ride from Poznan, he joined her in her quarters for one of their regular “movie nights”. They hardly ever finished watching any.

She found no comfort in his touch that night, though. After snuggling closer to him on the couch, she felt nothing. His thieving hands and intrusive tongue started to annoy her after a while. The excuse of being maybe a bit too tired was a lame one. It was not a complete lie and he knew she worked hard, but he seemed annoyed all the same. After she literally invited him to join her, she couldn’t really blame him, so she just slid on her knees on the floor and gave him head instead. 

There was something strangely calming about giving head and gagging on a cock. Those brief moments of not being in control made her feel like she could control everything else.. When it was finally over and she rested her head in his once again clothed lap, feeling his fingers scratching her scalp affectionately (but not too much), she felt calm at last. They were both half asleep when they heard a knock. Agnieszka slowly scrambled up on her feet, excused herself and opened the door to find Joshua standing there. 

“Hey,” he bounced on the balls of his heels with a tentative smile and his eyebrows furrowed. “I feel like I should apologize for being such an ass earlier. And…I’m making some mint tea and I thought, maybe you’d like some, too? Just to reciprocate your kindness, you know?” he nodded towards the common kitchen in the hall. 

Agnieszka bit her lip to stop her from smiling back. Not that he didn’t deserve it, she just didn’t feel worthy of giving it. She had her own kitchen unit in her apartment, so this was just a nice, albeit awkward gesture and they both knew it. He just didn’t want to approach her completely empty handed. 

“It’s ok.”

“No, it’s not, and I really am sorry.”

“It’s fine, Joshua. I’m basically just a maid and I had no right to bother you when you were clearly upset by…whatever’s going on in your life. It’s not like we’re friends.”

He sighed and nodded solemnly. “I really hoped that we would be. I…anyway, I went to this store today. They sell crystals and stuff, and this kinda reminded me of your eyes. Please, keep it.” He took her hand, palm up, and placed a small malachite pendant in it. “Good night to you, Olalla…” He bowed his head down and was about to leave when a loud “kto to jest” made it snap back up to see a man suddenly standing in the doorway right next to her, his hand squeezing her shoulder almost possessively. Bartek looked first at Josh, then at the piece of stone in her hand and his eyebrows shot up. He was athletic and broad shouldered and, being taller by at least 5 inches, he towered over Joshua menacingly.

He was also shirtless, with the waistband sitting dangerously low on his hips. That, together with Olalla’s sheer bathrobe, told him everything he needed to know. 

“Oh, I see I’m interrupting…again, my apologies Olalla.”  Bartek didn’t even wait for him to leave; he slammed the door shut right in his face. The bang made Agnieszka jump. 

“Who the fuck was that, Olalla!?”  

“No one. Just a guest.” He had no right to do that, and she should have been angry, but his sudden shift in mood made her defensively meek. 

“Guests don’t come knocking on your door this late to give you trinkets unless they want much more than just room service. I thought one at a time was your rule,” he raised his voice and slammed his fist against the door. “Guests don’t call you Olalla!”

“Bart! Stop overreacting! He just…”

“Is that why you’re so frigid today? Bitch…” 

He grabbed the rest of his discarded clothes from the couch and before Agnieszka could even react, threw the door open again and stormed out. She started after him, only to watch him pass bewildered Joshua, who really was making tea in the common hallway kitchen. Bartek stopped in his tracks and hissed in broken English, gesturing back at her: “Already you can go back, Frodo. The dirty whore is your now.” 

With that, he disappeared down the stairs and left them standing there in silence. He with a jug kettle in his hand, frozen in motion; she clutching the door frame for dear life. From the look on his face, she could tell that he had overheard them arguing too, though he thankfully couldn’t understand a single word of it, though he must have gotten the general idea. They watched each other with wide eyes for a few long seconds, until hers welled with tears.

He could see hurt and shame and panic in them. “Olalla,” he whispered and slowly made his way towards her, but she quickly closed the door shut, crouched down and, overwhelmed with all the emotions from the past few days, started crying in earnest. She tried to suppress her sobs so that he wouldn’t hear her as soon as she heard soft knocks again. This time, she didn’t open. The whole house fell quiet again after a while. She slowly got back on her feet and unclenched her fists. 

A warm piece of polished malachite was burning a hole in her palm. 

The clouds finally dissipated during the night and the inhabitants of Willa Eulalia were once again greeted by a clear, pinkish sky on the eastern horizon, the Sun painting the whole mountain range orange. Most of the people left early, so after 7 am, only families with young kids were still in their rooms or on their balconies, enjoying the breakfast as well as the fragrant air after yesterday’s rain, already warmed by the sun. 

Agnieszka had lulled herself to sleep the previous night with a little help of a significant amount of vodka and not even the fresh breeze was of much help in easing the consequent nausea. 

She suffered through the morning, thanking god that both Bartek and Joshua were gone, hopefully for the whole day. It was just a postponement of her torture, but it was welcome all the same. 

Her younger sister Maya arrived shortly after lunch, and – seeing both her mother and her sister looked like they might fall asleep on the spot – she quickly took over their duties. Agnieszka excused herself and climbed in her bed, wishing to disappear. Maya tried to get her back on her feet a few times during the afternoon, but failed miserably. It was already past 8 pm when she arrived again. Agnieszka could hear that the garden party had already started outside her window, and she just wished Maya would understand that she didn’t want to join them. Apparently not…

“There’s a gentleman asking if you would join us.” 

“Tell Bart he can fuck off.”

“Pfff,” Maya scoffed. “I already did. That fucker and his idiot buddies went out anyway, probably to the World’s End. And by ‘gentleman’ I mean a real gentleman. Though he’s a bit of a weirdo.” 

Agnieszka suddenly had a huge lump in her throat, but didn’t say anything, so Maya continued: “He also told me what happened.” 

“He did what?”

“I was at the reception about an hour ago when the German lady from room 9 made a complaint about a noise yesterday evening,” Maya started to explain while she was rummaging in her sister’s wardrobe. She was obviously determined to drag Agnieszka out of her room and into the garden by sheer force, if necessary. “I obviously didn’t know what she was talking about, because my sister doesn’t tell me anything anymore. Duh! That’s when he walked in, overheard us, said it was his fault and apologized to her. Then he explained to me what really happened,” she finished and threw black yoga pants and a fluffy powder-pink pullover on Agnieszka’s bed. 

“It wasn’t his fault,” Agnieszka mumbled into the pillow.

“Now you’re finally talking! Yeah, no shit. I figured. The poor guy obviously got dragged into your mess. And yet he still wants to see you. Seriously, who is he? And why is your face suddenly red like a baboon's ass? Is there a legitimate reason why Bart behaved like a total jerk this time?” she wiggled her eyebrows at Agnieszka theatrically. 

Agnieszka gave her an annoyed look. “I don’t even know who he is. And we just talked a few times. And…yeah, just talking. We spent an evening talking and then he kissed my cheek goodnight and that’s it.” She rummaged in her pocket and showed Maya the green pendant. “He also gave me this yesterday. Said it reminded him of my eyes. That was before Bart’s temper tantrum. I can’t go there, Maya. It’s better if I stay away from him, for the sake of his own wellbeing.”

“Wow. Interesting! So you’re saying the two of you are treating each other like real human beings? Didn’t know you had it in you. He’s sweet though, no surprise there. I think he likes you. His smile reminds me of…”

“Don’t!”

Maya knew she overstepped. But she wouldn’t budge. Instead, she sat on the bed and started stroking Agnieszka’s hair.

“Olalla, baby, stop shying away from people. Just go. Spend another evening talking. In spite of what you think, it will do you good. Besides, you invited him, and he’s there. It’d be rude not to show up.”

She could spot him immediately when she set foot in the garden. He was sitting on a piece of log by the fireplace, facing her. He was deep in conversation with some other guests, but as soon as he saw her, he gave her a radiant smile. His face was enchanting in the firelight, sparks dancing around it like fireflies. On her way to him, she stopped just briefly by the long table to grab a glass of wine. 

“Hey…” She still felt uncertain and a little ashamed when she reached him. “I…didn’t have an opportunity to thank you for this,” she continued, while toying with the pendant and looking down at him bashfully.

“Good evening, Olalla,” he beamed and gestured to an empty spot to his left. “Please sit.”

“You had the opportunity,” he added as soon as she sat down. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Your reaction was more than understandable. But I’m glad you’re here now.”

“You must think low of me.” 

“I think highly of you! You’re a hard worker, you obviously love nature and those carrot cupcakes are delicious! Maya told me you baked them this morning even though you weren’t feeling well. So,” he cleared his throat and giggled. “Now we both apologized to each other, I’m gonna need your advice.” 

“What advice?” It was Maya, the nosy brat who just couldn’t miss an opportunity to stick that nose into anything that didn’t concern at all. 

He was taken aback for just a millisecond before he resumed his quick babbling again. The fact that he was now forced to turn his head from side to side gave him also the opportunity to start gesticulating wildly, which he clearly enjoyed. 

“So, I decided to go for a proper, all day hike today. But apart from the fact that I absolutely don’t know where to go – I was never good at reading maps – there were sooo many people everywhere! Which was a good thing, in a way, because I didn’t get lost. BUT…”

“Where did you go?” Maya interrupted him. The two of them were like two peas in a pod.   

“Kash…kashp…dammit! How do you guys do that? My tongue, ouch!”

Agnieszka finally laughed, for the first time that day. “Kasprowy Wierch?” 

He nodded eagerly. “Yea! That’s the one! Nice place, don’t get me wrong, but my god! It was crowded up there.”

“Of course, it’s Sunday, and you chose the only place with a cable car,” she explained, as both she and Maya laughed. 

“Well now I feel like a complete moron,” he responded to that in a cheerful tone and even wilder gesticulation. 

“So, what advice do you need, Joshua?” 

“Well, I was thinking…since you said that you work as a guide occasionally…that you would just go with me? I’d love to see some more secluded places and I can’t go alone – you said that yourself – and I wouldn’t even know where to go, so…please?” He grinned, batting his eyelashes at her. 

“But that’s mostly for families or older couples or…”

“But that’s a wonderful idea!” Maya interrupted her. “You should definitely go.” 

“I have work to do,” Agnieszka spat back. 

“Bullshit. I’m here until Wednesday, I can do that. And tomorrow’s going to be even more beautiful than today, according to the forecast.”

“Perfect! Olalla, pleeeeeease,” he turned to her. “Hey, you have nothing to drink,” he gestured to her already empty glass and took it from her. “Lemme refill it while you’ll decide to say yes.”

“Hey, who’s the guest here?”

He gave her an “oh, come on” look, took her glass and excused himself. 

“What are you doing?” Agnieszka hissed at Maya as soon as the coast was clear. 

“It’s been a long time since you looked so radiant. You’ve been miserable for way too long. Enjoy life for once. You like him! And he obviously likes you,” Maya said, nodding towards the long table. Agnieszka looked up too and they watched him shooting glances back at them.

“It’s irresponsible,” Agnieszka hissed back. “He’s leaving by the end of the month.”

“Yeah yeah, totally out of your character,” Maya responded sarcastically. “Since when does this bother you? And what exactly do you expect to happen? Just go have some fun. Two friends enjoying a hike.” 

She planned a beautiful hike. Secluded, just as he wished. Away from selfie hunters. The whole trek was on the Slovakian side of the mountains, but that wasn’t an issue. They would start right at the border and cross the whole mountain range from north to south, taking the bus back to the starting place. It was a physically demanding, long trek, with almost no shelters along the road and no escape routes. That’s why not many people ventured there, even though the first half was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful places here. Joshua was beyond excited. 

They agreed to meet by her car at half past six the next morning. She would take care of all the necessities. All Joshua had to do was to show up on time with a backpack and some spare clothes. He failed miserably. 

At quarter to seven, she finally decided to knock on his door. “Joshua, come on! We need to leave NOW if you don’t want me to change the plan.” A moment later she heard a loud “oh fuck!” and some scrambling noise. “COMING!”

“Coming,” he breathed out when he finally opened the door, shirtless again, still in his sleeking sweatpants and with a literal nest on the top of his head. “I’m sooo sorry! Gimme ten minutes. Ten minutes max!”

“I’ll be waiting by my car,” she rolled her eyes and sighed. 

He finally showed up after another 25 minutes, overflowing with joy and…

“What’s that?” she pointed at his face. 

“Sunglasses,” he shrugged with a beaming smile. 

“You call this sunglasses?” 

“I’m a diva! Deal with it,” he responded affectedly and threw his backpack on the backseat. 

It was almost eight when they finally set off. The track was an easy one for the first ten kilometres, with just a slight ascent. It was – however – breathtaking from the very start, with the whole amphitheatre of jagged peaks opening up before them in the distance. Joshua was taking pictures the whole time. He was also talking the whole time, stopping only when the pathway became very steep all of the sudden. 

They surmounted a few levels and finally decided to take a break by a beautiful mountain lake. 

It was almost noon, but there were still barely any clouds in the sky and it was getting really hot, even at this altitude. Agnieszka wiped the sweat off her brow and splashed her bare arms with some cold water, while Joshua stripped from his shirt and jumped on a large stone sticking out of the water. He was now standing there with his arms outstretched and his head tilted back. She watched him in amusement, shielding her eyes with her hand. “If you want to go on like this, you’ll definitely need to apply more sunscreen.”

“What? Are you saying that pink wouldn’t suit me? I beg to differ, my lady!” He turned towards her in some sort of clumsy pirouette and nearly lost his balance, flailing his arms and leg around in an attempt to stay dry. “Watch it!” She laughed, but was also already rummaging in her backpack. “And no. I’m serious. Come here.” He jumped back and she handed him her bottle. 

“Hmmm, coconut ice cream,” he sniffed at the healthy amount of lotion he just poured on his palm and started rubbing it in the skin on his arms and chest. “I was delicious before, but now I’m going to be practically irresistible.” Agnieszka was just taking a sip out of her bottle and his cheekiness made her cough. 

“What, you don’t think so?” He wiggled his eyebrows on her. “I might need help with the back,” he added. 

“I’d rather not answer that question. Come sit,” she motioned to the flat stone in front of her. 

He turned his back on her and sat between her legs, throwing his messy braid over his shoulder. It was adorned with silver dreadlock beads today and she couldn’t help but smile at his unashamed quirkiness. “Why don’t you wanna answer that question?” he asked with a low voice when she started applying the sunscreen between his shoulder blades. 

She took a deep breath through her nose and squeezed her eyes shut for a second. This close, she could smell his own musky scent under the overpowering aroma of the sunscreen, and it made her dizzy. She watched tiny droplets of sweat running down his sides from under his armpits. Running her hands over his lower back, she involuntarily imagined the same thing in a completely different scenario. She really wanted this to be just two friends on a trip, just as Maya said, but his delicate, yet manly form and his direct, spontaneous personality made it almost impossibly hard. She just couldn’t get the feral thoughts out of her head, no matter how hard she tried. “You don’t need coconuts, Joshua,” she muttered under her breath.

He…giggled? This man was either completely unaware of his power or too comfortable with it. Either way, she just wanted to push him in that water. She was sure it would make a hiss. 

She squeezed more lotion in her palm and started rubbing his shoulders. “You’re a bit tense here.”

“Yeah, my lower neck’s been hurting lately. I haven’t had much exercise in a while,” he sighed. 

“Here?” She pressed both thumbs in his higher trapeze muscles and he let out an involuntary moan. They both chose to act as if he hadn’t. 

“So…you exercise? What exactly do you do?

“Yoga, mostly. Some light weights, too. I need to keep fit because of…work.”

“Work, huh? You told me quite a lot about your family, but I still don’t know what your job is.” He looked like one of those contemporary circus acrobatic dancers – she contemplated half-jokingly – but that probably wasn’t the case. He was too clumsy. 

It took him a while to respond. “A secret agent,” he finally let out. “And unfortunately, now I have to kill you.” That made her slap his shoulder in amusement. “Ok, ok, I work as a costume mannequin. It’s an extremely important job. They pay well, too.” 

Sighing exasperatedly, she pinched his side, making him squirm and squeak. He was keeping something from her, but she had learned not to pry. “Ok, done.” She wiped the rest of the lotion on her things and he shifted and sat next to her, still laughing, until she handed him a water bottle. “Now drink. I haven’t seen you drink much and I don’t want you to collapse on the road. You’re tiny, but I still couldn’t carry you all the way down.” Everytine she felt vulnerable, she resorted to this strategy of making clear that she was in charge of the situation, could take care of herself and should take care of others…or whatever. It was her way to weed out the toxic people. Some guys would be mortally offended by such a treatment. Joshua? He just saluted her with a “yes, ma’am” and obeyed. 

They sat in silence for a while, only an occasional hawk screech or an intelligible chatter of two girls sitting further up breaking the zen-like piece of the place. “Thank you,” she finally spoke, toying with the malachite pendant hanging around her neck. 

He looked at her with amusement. “You already did.”

“No, I mean for not treating me like…what were the words he used? Oh yeah, a dirty whore. Which I guess I am. But you’re not judging me. So, thank you.”  

He rested his face on his fist and looked at her. “Why should I be judging you? People need human touch. That’s completely normal.” 

“Some more than others, I suppose. I’m just pathetic.”

“I think you’re just lonely,” he said, toying with the water bottle absentmindedly. 

“I’m not,” she huffed.

“Are you sure?”

She didn’t respond, silently watching the ripples on the lake. The idea of being lonely was one she willingly chose not to entertain a long time ago. She had her people. She had sex. She had this. She was ok. 

His palm that gently cupped her face brought her from her reverie. His fingers slid down to the nape of her neck while his thumb continued to caress her cheek. She instinctively leaned into the touch with her eyes closed and when she opened them again, she saw him watching her intently. 

Her heart started beating wildly. “What are you doing,” she whispered. He just shook his head and bit his lip before he moved even closer and closed the gap between them. She could feel his plump lips on hers and her whole body twitched in shock, making him break the contact. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his eyelids drooping, but she grabbed his face in her own shaking hands and pressed her parted lips to his again in silent plea. The tip of his tongue brushed against her upper lip, inviting her own to touch him. Their mouths finally fully connected in a soft, deep and sensual kiss that made them both feel completely light-headed. None of them wanted this to end and they continued for at least a minute, swallowing each other’s shaky exhales. At last he broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to hers. “What is this? she whispered again. 

“I don’t know… and I don’t care, to be honest,” he mumbled, finally opening his eyes as they broke the contact entirely. She didn’t know where to look, didn’t even know how to process her own thoughts, so she just checked her Garmin matter-of-factly, only to see how late it already was. “We should get moving.” 

“I don’t think I can,” he giggled in embarrassment. “Just…give me a minute.” She nodded weakly in acknowledgement and got up to re-pack their things. 

They resumed their way up the steep and stony path in complete silence save for their laboured breath until they reached another levelled post-glacial terrace with yet another alpine lake right under the narrow saddle that divided the northern set of valleys from the southern mountain range. They were now approximately in the middle of their journey and the route was getting slightly more exposed. At one point, they had to traverse a narrow ledge above the lake. It was the first passage with safety chains they had to cross that day, and by far the easiest one, as she assured him, which only made him nervous. 

They took a short break before ascending to refresh themselves when they reached the crossing and had two ways to choose from, both leading to their final destination. The one to the left was fit for more seasoned adventurers, and – based on the people coming and going – that included also kids in their early teens or older women, so it could be done. She knew it could, she had gone there a few times before. But, seeing him watch the narrow and jagged depression between two peaks in the distance warily, Agnieszka finally decided on the path leading right up to the more easily accessible saddle. It proved to be a wise choice just a short while after. Watching him struggle while descending on the other side, clawing the chains with terror in his eyes, was fun. Him falling or panicking in the middle of the ascent wouldn’t be. 

He even misstepped eventually when they were descending down a set of cramps onto another ledge. His foot slid down the last iron bar clumsily and his bare back collided with her chest, nearly knocking them both down. 

She caught him and steadied him and they laughed it off, but there was something strange about the whole situation. She felt an underlying tension between them after she released him and they genuinelly looked each other in the eye for the first time since the kiss. He brushed the back of his hand against her arm, trying to communicate something, until the people behind them gestured to them to move. 

He led the way this time, jumping from stone to stone, high on endorphins, as if his knees were made of rubber. A wild chamois. Her own shins started to burn, the exhaustion of the past few days already taking its toll. He was unstoppable though, basking in the afternoon sun and once again taking pictures of everything around him, including her on a few occasions. Some things were still left unsaid and the more tired she felt with each passing hour, the more it troubled her. The events of the day made her simply wonder, but one specific feeling that started to rear its ugly head scared her.

It was half past six when they finally reached Stary Smokovec, both completely exhausted and thirsty, but happy they made it in time. The last bus to Lysa Polana was leaving at 7:05. They had just enough time to use the restroom at the electric train station and to buy some bottled water to relieve the headache. 

Reaching the bus station, they found the girls they had previously met by the lake already waiting there. They took the other route at the crossing and were now also headed back to Lysa Polana. They were a nice and friendly couple, so when the bus arrived, Agnieszka and Joshue took the seat right behind them. 

The sun was already low in the sky, covering the world outside in a warm hue and a fresh, lukewarm breeze was flowing through the open roof window. The sound of the moving machine made them drowsy and they watched the changing scenery in silence. It was suddenly so peaceful. One of the girls in front of them rested her head lovingly on the other one’s shoulder and Agnieszka wished to do the same, but just couldn’t muster enough courage to do so. 

As if he read her mind, he took her hand and – just like the first night – started stroking her knuckles gently. She just smiled and looked in the distance. Whatever it was, she was now determined to enjoy every single minute of it. More people boarded the bus in Tatranska Lomnica and soon they were on their way again. The girls in front of them started kissing and Joshua watched them stealthily with the most heartwarming expression on his face she had seen so far. Suddenly, they heard the driver saying something with his voice raised and angry, while looking at them through the rear-view mirror. 

The girls tensed and started whispering something to each other in Polish. Joshua looked confused. Agnieszka didn’t understand the driver at first but when he repeated those words she finally grasped the meaning behind them and gasped. He stopped the bus and opened the back door. Joshua turned his head to Agnieszka, looking positively alarmed now. “What is he saying?” She tried to translate it but her own words failed her. He got it, though. The guy wanted them out. 

One of the girls tried to negotiate with the driver, but that made him even more visibly angry. He stood and made his way towards them. The whole bus was whispering by then, all eyes on the girls. “Do kelu, vypadnite uz, lesby zasrate!” he roared and grabbed one of the girls by the elbow, trying to push her out of the bus with force, if necessary. An older lady in the back shouted something at him, but he ignored her and continued with his speech about not wanting such filth inside his bus. Joshua clenched his jaw, stood up abruptly and went after the driver, only to be thrown back into his seat aggressively. Agnieszka didn’t even know that she started screaming. The whole situation escalated pretty quickly and resulted in the four of them being left standing by the side of the road. 

The girls were the first to recover, one of them already tapping ferociously on the screen of her phone, while Agnieszka was still just standing there in disbelief and repeating “he can’t do this, he can’t do this” over and over again. Joshua sat on the grass, his elbows on his knees, clutching his head. He felt as if he was in a haze, watching her in slow motion having a heated conversation with the girls. He rubbed his temple and tried to calm down as she finally crouched down to him after a while. 

“Joshua, are you ok?”

“Yes,” he whispered. 

She placed a hand on his shoulder tentatively. “Are you sure? You look…”

“I am ok, Olalla. I’m ok…” but his shoulders started shaking and he lost it, startling her. She sat down next to him and pulled him in her arms in a vain attempt to soothe him. “Hey! Shhh, big boy. They’re fine. One of them just called a taxi from Poprad. But…it’s a long ride and neither of us have enough cash, so…do you, perchance, have some spare Euros? I’ll pay you back once we get back to Eulalia.” 

That finally made him take a deep breath and calm down a bit. “Yeah…yes, I do. I’ll pay for the ride, don’t worry.”

“No, we’ll split the expense, I’ll just need…”

“Don’t argue, Olalla!” He was resolute. He also didn’t say a single word after that. 

No one spoke during the ride back to Lysa Polana, only the radio disturbing the complete silence. The girls crammed themselves in the back seat while Joshua took the place next to the driver. Agnieszka was watching him from the back seat. They were both deep in thought and – while she couldn’t read his mind – her own was racing. It all made perfect sense all of the sudden. Still with the aftertaste of his kiss on her lips, she felt a sudden wave of bittersweet tenderness for him. Oh, my sweet Joshua. My dear…friend. 

Back in her car, they still didn’t speak. They had wished the other two a safe journey back home and Joshua hugged them both, but other than that, he seemed distant, watching the passing trees outside the window absentmindedly. 

“Thank you for today, Olalla,” he finally spoke, not looking at her. “It was really nice.” 

“No need to be polite now, Joshua. Just tell me what’s troubling you…if you want to. If you don’t…then don’t...”

He opened his mouth, only to move his lips in vain like a mute fish, and started crying. She felt a sudden surge of panic. The incident itself, however unpleasant, couldn’t possibly shake him that much. Something else was going on, and she had a feeling it was related to the previous phone calls he had. It seemed impossible to return to Eulalia now. Her notoriously curious sister would be waiting behind the reception desk, no doubt. It was not her place to explain why they were both behaving as if they just returned from a funeral. She couldn’t muster enough strength to do that, anyway. And then there was Bart and his buddies, whom she just didn’t want to see now. AND she didn’t want them to see Joshua. Not like this. 

He didn’t even notice that she took a different turn, coming back to reality again only when they passed the town centre and were now heading towards a much smaller Gubalowka mountain range on the northern side of town. 

“Where are we going? he asked, looking confused. 

“I just thought you might appreciate a change of scenery…”

To be continued...

Previous chapter Olalla masterlist

@its-interesting-van-kleep @edgingthedarkness @writingcold @thewritingbeforesunrise @lvnterninthenight @fleet-of-fiction @takenbythemadness @myownparadise96 @gvfstuddedmajesty @josh-iamyour-mama @jazzyfigz @tripthelightfantastix @sanguinebats @love-isnt-greed @klarxtr

[i-eat-worlds]

Starcross Chapter One

Here it is! Hope you enjoy <3

Picrews

Content: sci-fi setting, human trafficking

Free Space, AFS Starcross, 4/5/4763

Veya stood on the bridge of her ship, carefully studying the stars spread out in front of her as her ship hurled through space. It was moments like this that brought her peace, watching the cosmos twinkle in the distance. The hum of her ship filled her ears, the tiny vibrations that she’d adjusted to over the years still vibrating the floor. It was truly something special, being Starcross’s captain.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” She mused, turning to her first mate.

Elzar hummed. “You say that every time.”

“And?”

“You’re right,” they admitted, tone annoyed but face smiling.

“Jesse, where are we at?” She said, flipping back into a more serious mode.

In front of her, Jesse, the pilot, was hard at work, eyes flickering between the yoke and the wide array of monitors and sensors the ship had been outfitted with over the past decade. “We’re on course. Expecting arrival on Zarian in roughly a day’s time.”

“Thanks, Jesse,” Veya smiled, turning around to go check on dinner, when the normally consistent pinging of the beeping changed. She sighed, turning around on her heel. “What’ve we got?”

Jesse leaned in close to the screen. “Mid sized cruiser, no distress signals.” She flicked some more switches. “No signals at all, actually, and no life signs. Think they’re D&A.”

That was odd. “Any idea who it is?”

“Scanner says it’s Yeran,” Jesse wrinkled her nose. “What are they doing out here?”

“Peacekeeping, or whatever made up shit they call it,” Elzar scoffed.

Veya murmured a very quiet “probably” under her breath. “Bring us in closer.”

Yeran ships could be risky, but they could also be fruitful. Least they could do was check it out.

The ship slowly decelerated as Jesse pulled the throttle down, and the downed cruiser oated by on the port side. Its entire stern had been blown out, debris floating around it.

“The fuck?” Elzar whispered.

Yaren vessels didn’t get attacked like that. Even out in the transition systems, where they weren't the most popular, you never saw this. Either the rebels were escalating, or they’d met a pirate crew ballsy enough to do some real damage.

“Probably some good stu in there” Veya chewed her lip. “The damage might’ve exposed a cargo hold or two. Think it’s worth it?”

“I think poking around wouldn’t do any harm,” they agreed.

Veya smiled. “Let’s take a look.

*** The airlock wired as it sealed shut, welcoming Veya and Elzar, along with Oka, their brilliant person who knows people, into the crushing void of space. Using their packs, they propelled themselves towards the bottom levels of the wreckage.

Mari, the mechanic, had given them a list of parts for them to see if they could salvage, and he’d also pointed them to where they could find the best loot. He was about eighty percent sure that it was still attached to the ship, and hadn’t been blown to smithereens.

Dead ships always gave Veya the creeps, even more so when they were governmental. The power had been cut, meaning everything was eerily dark. She pushed through the emergency airlocks. They’d all been activated in the crash, and the manual open mechanisms were easy enough to gure out, even if they were Yeran.

It was a bit odd, floating around in a ship that was designed for walking, since the gravity generators had been knocked out, but she managed, pulling herself into one the cargo bays that hadn’t been damaged. Elzar followed behind her.

“Damn, there’s some nice stuff in here,” they said as they paged through a manifest. “Rations for weeks, some medical stuff Ziar’ll love, two hoverbikes…” they turned to Veya, making their biggest puppy eyes. “Hoverbikes?”

Veya chuckled. “We don’t have room.” She placed her hands on her hips, a dicult motion in zero gravity. “And, before you ask, I’m not jettisoning cargo that makes us money.”

Elzar deflated, overplaying their disappointment. “Yes, captain.”

As they looked for the useful cargo they would be…liberating, Veya checked in with Oka. “How’s the spare part search going?”

“Great. I’ve got the two weird shaped ones he’s been bugging me about, plus a couple others,” they responded. “Hold up, I see something weird. I think there’s a hidden compartment.”

Veya raised an eyebrow. That could have some serious loot in it. “I’ll be right over.”

Sure enough, when they pushed a little more than normal, the paneling came away, revealing a small, tight space just barely big enough to fit the crate that was shoved inside. With Jesse’s help, they were able to slide it out, the lack of gravity making it harder.

The crate was entirely, black, with the exception of a yellow and white striped band around the sides. On the top there was a small control panel, which displayed several numbers, and a block of warning text written in curling Yeran script.

Veya could speak a little Yeran, but she couldn’t read it at all. She pressed the button on the side of her helmet, changing the channel so she could talk to the ship. “Ziar, can you read Yeran?”

Her voice was a little staticy because of the distance, but it was understandable enough.

“Yeah, you wanna send me a feed?”

“On its way,” she said, turning on her chest cam. “Got it?”

“Yep. Can you move closer?”

She maneuvered herself so that her chest was directly over the text, stabilizing herself by grabbing onto the walls. It was an awkward position to hold, but she managed to stay still enough for Ziar to read.

“It’s a warning label.” She went silent for a moment. “Holy shit, it’s a species containment unit. There's someone in there.”

“Shit,” Veya echoed, pulling away from the crate. The implications of the statement were obvious. You don’t hide a person in a secret chamber in the engine room unless you’re smuggling them.

And you don’t use an SCU unless that person didn’t want to be smuggled.

“Bring it with us,” she ordered, ignoring how she could almost hear her old captain cursing her out from beyond the grave. “We’ll load up the supplies and the SCU. Move quickly, don’t want to meet the wrong end of a Yeran rescue crew. Yeah? “

There was a chorus of “yes” and “alright,” and then they got to work.

*** Ziar met them in the cargo bay, a med bag slung over her shoulder and a worried expression on her face. While Elzar and Oka secured their newfound supplies, Veya helped her load the SCU onto a cart so they could take it to the infirmary.

Since the infirmary was on the second deck, the elevator ride was short. They carefully unloaded it, setting it down on the floor. Ziar leaned forward, eyes scanning the vital signs monitors on the top of the box. “If the thing’s accurate, then they’re at least alive.” Her fingers skittered along the edge of the box as she tried to find the latch. “Got it.”

It hissed as she opened it, the levitators thrumbing louder. She peeled away the insulator layer, then peered inside.

The first thing that she noticed about the figure lying in stasis wasn’t the myriad of tubes protruding from their body or gel pressed over their eyes, it was the myriad bruises, cuts, and scars that covered their body. It had to be hundreds of past injuries.

What in the world was a person who looked like they’d been through hell doing in a secret compartment on a Yeran ship?

And, more importantly, what, exactly, had she gotten her crew into?

Taglist: @whump-snob @whump-kia @itsoundslikeafury @emmettland @blackberry-bloody

@whumpacabra @cepheusgalaxy @softvampirewhump @my-little-versaille @pigeonwhumps

@whumped-by-glitter @snaillamp @rainydaywhump @platysaurus @whumpy-daydreams

@whiskygoldwings

[waytooinvested]

Small Problem... Chapter 2

You can find the full story on AO3

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

Lena was in the middle of grinding up a chunk of dried rhubarb for her latest spell to try and de-miniaturise Kara when Dreamer came hurtling into the room at full speed, almost running right into the far wall when she failed to slow down in time, and startling Lena so much that she dropped her pestle.

‘Nia! What is it? What’s happened?’

She would have been more worried by the sudden entrance, if not for the fact that Nia was now bouncing excitedly from foot to foot, and holding -something- behind her back like a child who had just raided the cookie jar.

‘Have you seen Kara anywhere? She’s not on the snack table’.

There was a tiny huff of air against Lena’s ear, and an indignant little voice muttered ‘I don’t spend that much time with the snacks!’

‘She doesn’t spend that much time with the snacks’.

Nia chuckled at the passed-on-message, tilting her head to peer past the fall of Lena’s hair to where Kara was sitting comfortably on her shoulder, legs dangling by her clavicle and one hand fisted in her shirt for balance.

‘I don’t know why I even asked – I should have known if you weren’t making the most of a fresh batch of crullers you’d be in here with Lena’.

‘There’s CRULLERS???’

Lena didn’t have to speak up for Kara this time, because that had come out at a volume loud enough to make her wince, and definitely loud enough to carry to Nia standing a few feet away.

‘Kara, remember what we said about shouting and proximity to people’s ears?’

‘Oops, sorry…’ Kara patted the lobe of Lena’s ear apologetically. ‘But crullers Lena! I haven’t had a giant cruller yet, and you know they’re my favourite!’

‘Well hang on, that’s not what I came here to tell you! I got you a surprise!’

Nia was bouncing again, and at last Kara was diverted from the promise of fresh doughnuts by her obvious excitement.

‘What is it?’

‘It’s- drum roll please-’

Nia stamped her feet in a rapid tattoo to simulate her own drum roll, then brought out the thing behind her back with a flourish, plonking it down in the middle of Lena’s grimoire so it would be right in Kara’s line of sight.

‘-YOU!’

The big (well, little) surprise was a miniature Supergirl action figure. Just under five inches high, complete with Supersuit, cape, boots and flowing waves of plastic hair. They all stared at it for a moment, and then Kara lifted gingerly off Lena’s shoulder and floated down to have a closer look.

It was not a perfect likeness by any means, but one of the better of its kind, and seeing the two of them side by side was… a little uncanny, honestly. Kara walked a slow circle around her doppelganger, taking in its fixed plastic grin and hands-on-hips pose with a perplexed frown on her face.

‘Thank… you?’

‘What’s she supposed to do with it?’

‘Isn’t it obvious?’

Kara and Lena looked at the doll, then at each other, then shrugged.

‘Not really?’

‘The clothes. You can take the supersuit off, I checked! Even the boots are proper leather. Well, pleather, but I think they’ll be comfy enough – they’re soft anyway, not stiff plastic, and they look about the right size’.

Kara perked up at that, keen to get back into something that would feel more like her usual self.

Once it had become clear that getting Kara back to her proper size wasn’t going to be a quick fix, they had done their best to get her properly outfitted. Alex and Kelly had taken Esme home to raid her doll box for anything that might come close to fitting Kara, and they had found a few things that worked, which Kara had been wearing on rotation. Her favourite so far had been a tiny pair of blue jean style stretchy pants, and a matching blue shirt with long sleeves layered under short that had once belonged to a Tiny Teen!TM doll. Her LEAST favourite was the ill fitting ‘sleepy bunnikins’ baby doll onesie she had been forced to wear for one humiliating afternoon while chocolate frosting was washed out of her other clothes after an incident of over-exuberance helping Esme decorate cupcakes for her upcoming birthday party. The rest fell somewhere between the two on the spectrum of acceptability, but none had made Kara feel entirely herself, and they had had no luck at all so far with shoes.

Until now.

‘YES! Thank you Nia!!! Lena, would you mind…?’

Kara gestured at the open grimoire and Lena obligingly stood it up on its end to hide her and the doll from their view, hoping that it wasn’t inadvertently insulting to her mother’s memory to use her revered magic book as a changing screen. She and Nia waited patiently for the reveal, sharing an amused glance at the mutters and grumbles that emerged from behind the book as Kara wrestled her plastic twin out of its clothes and pulled them on herself.

When at last she emerged the twee floral dress and pinafore she had borrowed from Esme’s littlest china doll was gone, and Kara was once more dressed in an approximation of her own clothes. She struck her familiar Supergirl pose, hands on hips, newly shod feet set wide apart, and looked hopefully up at them.

‘What do you think?’

Lena examined her tiny friend and nodded admiringly.

‘Much better. You look like yourself again’.

It was true, but not wholly true. The sizing was no worse than any of the other outfits she had been making do with lately to be fair – better if anything, since it was made of stretchy, forgiving material, but knowing how her suit was supposed to fit made it all the more obvious that the sleeves of this one were straining around Kara’s biceps, while the too-long pants wrinkled and the top hung loosely across her chest. Apparently the manufacturers had taken some liberties with Supergirl’s bra size…

Nia squealed and clapped her hands in delight. ‘I’m so glad I stayed up til 4am in an ebay bidding war for it, it was TOTALLY worth it!’

‘Nia, you didn’t!’

‘Yep – there’s loads of Supergirl dolls out there, but most of them are too big, or the clothes are just painted on. THIS one is a much sought after “Superhero In My Hand” model, and the clothes come off so that you can swap them out with other dolls in the series if you want to. I really wanted to get little Dreamer too, but that one still had another two hours on the auction and Brainy changed the wifi password to force me go to sleep, so my nemesis got her instead’.

Lena raised an eyebrow. ‘You have a nemesis?’

‘I do now. Ebay user Iheartdreamer98’.

Nia glared darkly at nothing in particular, then dropped to a crouch so that she was at eye level with Kara on the table, grinning again as if nothing had happened.

‘This is so cool. What do you think of the doll?’

‘I love the clothes, but the actual doll is a bit creepy, and they made me look kind of constipated. Now she’s out of the outfit I don’t think she really looks much like me at all’.

‘So you don’t want to keep her?’

‘Not especially’.

‘Can I have her then?’

Kara frowned. ‘What for?’

Glancing between Kara and Lena, Nia beckoned them both closer before whispering ‘hijinks’.

‘Go on…’ Kara whispered back conspiratorially (then had to repeat herself more loudly, because at her current size a whisper was inaudible unless she practically climbed into your ear canal).

‘Well -’. Nia reached over the grimoire to pull out the doll, which Lena noticed was now wearing Kara’s cast off frills (apparently despite thinking it didn’t look like her she had felt weird about leaving it entirely naked, even though it must have been a pain trying to dress a from-her-perspective-life-sized plastic dummy). ‘-Brainy knows I bought this because he was there when I was ordering it. But no one else does. Alex doesn’t. I thought there might be some good pranking potential in it. What do you think? Something to do while you’re stuck in here?’

Kara grinned back wickedly ‘oh yes’.

After the first couple of days spent getting used to her new size and taking part in a dozen different (failed) attempts at de-shrinking spells, Kara’s mood had shifted from distress to boredom. She couldn’t go to work. She couldn’t fly out to save the day from villains (though she had waged an hours long battle to oust a rat that had been attempting to set up home in the tower, then spent a further day amusing Esme with stories and re-enactments of her daring exploits). She couldn’t even go out without someone’s pocket to hide in, in case anyone saw her and decided to use her relative vulnerability to their advantage. In fact as Nia had alluded to, the main solace Kara had now was her continued delight in over-sized snacks, but even her appetite had its limits, and she was desperate for things to do. It seemed that Nia might just have found a neat solution to both her need for proper clothing and her need for entertainment (even if it was at the expense of her long-suffering sister).

‘You’re with us, right Lena?’

‘I’m theoretically with you. I won’t tell Alex what you’re up to or do anything to spoil your fun, but I don’t think I’ll have time to actively join in. I really need to keep working on this spell so you can get back to normal’.

Lena hadn’t been doing anything but working on spells since Kara’s accident, even though she had long since tried even the most tenuously promising charms in her mother’s book, and was more or less just making things up now. She was using rhubarb, because it was known for its speedy and extensive growth. Bamboo shoots for the same reason. A dose of her artificial yellow sunlight to boost Kara’s innate powers and lend the spell strength… she was about 48 hours away from suggesting that Kara drink up her milk and go to bed early in the hopes that it would help her grow up big and strong, or else poking about in rabbit holes to find the way down to Wonderland and the caterpillar’s magic size changing mushroom, but she couldn’t admit it.

Not when whatever had happened had to have been her fault. She and Kara had been standing over the workbench together at the time looking through her grimoire. Their hands had collided as they both reached to turn a page and Lena had felt the usual surge of butterflies that came with touching Kara unexpectedly. Then suddenly all hell had broken loose and everyone else had been thrown across the room while Kara shrank to dolls house proportions. It must have been some unforeseen magical accident linked to the surge of emotion, or the physical contact while touching the book, or… something. And if Lena’s magic had caused this, that meant it must also be able to fix it.

The trouble was that despite going over the interaction second by second in her mind every hour since it had happened, she still had no idea what she had done, or how. She hadn’t been trying to do a spell. Not just a shrinking spell, but any kind. The idea that magic could just burst out of her uncontrollably like that was terrifying, and another reason why she had been spending most of her time holed up in this room away from the others, where she couldn’t accidentally hurt anyone.

In fact the only person she hadn’t made excuses to stay away from for more than five minutes at a time lately was Kara.

Kara, who was the one Lena had most hurt with her accidental witchcraft, but also the only other person who was as trapped in the tower as Lena was until she learned to keep her magic under tighter control. It felt unfair to turn her away when she was already so lonely and overwhelmed by her new size. Besides, Lena harboured a secret, desperate hope that if they were together enough then whatever she had accidentally done might be undone the same way. They would brush knuckles in exactly the right place at exactly the right moment, or Kara would step onto some special part of the grimoire, and just as suddenly as she had shrunk, she would grow back to her usual size and this would all be over.

She didn’t say that to Kara of course – to her and to everyone else she remained optimistic, assuring them that they weren’t out of options yet, and the next spell might just be the one that would do the trick. Well then, the next. Or the one after that. She would find it eventually. She had to. So she couldn’t let herself get diverted into playing games with Nia and Kara, no matter how hopefully they were looking at her now. That would be like admitting she was giving up. And besides, somebody might get hurt.

Kara crossed the table to her and patted her knuckle gently, understanding something of her distress, even if not all of it.

‘I know you want to work this out Lena, but you’re allowed to take a break. It’s okay if it takes time. I’m okay’.

Lena smiled back at her gratefully, but shook her head.

‘I know, and I’ll take a break if I need to. I just want to do a little more work on this one first’.

‘Are you coming up for dinner at least? J’onn’s cooking something Martian-inspired’.

‘Sounds good, but I’m not really hungry. Save me some left overs?’

‘Sure…’

Kara still didn’t look happy, but she flew up from the table to perch on Nia’s shoulder, and Lena listened to the two of them talking about how best to prank the others with their look-alike Kara as they clattered off back down the hallway, leaving Lena alone with her spells.

Rhubarb.

Bamboo.

Artificial yellow sun.

There had to be a way.

[summerroseart]

SURPRISE! Final Space brainrot continues to consume me. Have an actual comic prologue bc I'm nuts, I guess.

[cherrykamado]

thursday