#also i had to whip out an entire notepad for this set because

[luuny-luunymoony]

Hiraeth || Ticci Toby x Reader || Part One

Chapter One | Chapter Two

[ Toby Rogers disappeared three years ago. You've been trying to piece your life back together since he shattered it, but for some reason he comes waltzing right back into it. ]

[ Reader is gender neutral. I recommend using the chrome extension InteractiveFics for this and all of my other reader insert fanfics. List of variables coming soon. ]

[ This story can be found on Quotev and ao3 as well. ]

[ Trigger warnings include: abuse / child abuse, mentions of violence, police ]

[ Things may not be formatted correctly, as I copy pasted this from my notepad. ]

They wiped their hands on their red apron, reaching for their phone after their fingers were free of whipped cream. There was a notification alerting them to their most recent paycheck hitting their account— they smiled, just barely dipping their head at the alert. A hundred or so of that beautiful thousand dollars was going straight into their savings. Moving further west wasn’t as far away as it had been three years ago. Maybe they could afford it in another year or two.

It would be nice to finally get away from Aurora. It had only taken them three years after the biggest tragedy in their life to get somewhat close to leaving. 

Toby.

He crossed their mind again, bringing a certain type of sadness with him. It had been three years since he disappeared without a trace. It had been three years since they lost both of their friends and their ticket out of Colorado. 

They thought of him constantly. It was hard not to with the way he exited their life. How do you just move on from your best friend maybe getting murdered and his neighborhood being set on fire?

Oh, yeah, the maybe murder that they don’t even know happened, they thought bitterly, shoving their phone into their apron pocket. After the fire was put out, the fire department and the police investigated the Rogers’ household, where Mrs. Connie Rogers reported seeing her son stab her husband to death. The thing was she couldn’t have seen that because it hadn’t happened.

The facts went like this: They found large amounts of Toby’s blood— and only Toby’s blood —covering the floor. There were no bodies- not from Toby nor his father, Andrew. Andrew’s truck had disappeared with the two of them. Connie had been a block away when she reportedly ‘knew’ that Toby killed his father.  The fire would’ve kept Connie from getting anywhere near the Rogers’ family home, and the friend she’d been visiting didn’t report Connie leaving her home until the fire started.

After a long two weeks, the police released a statement saying that this is how it went: After pulling various police reports and statements from neighbors and family friends, Andrew Rogers was understood to be incredibly violent towards his family, especially towards his youngest child, Tobias Erin Rogers. Andrew was also a known drunk and would go out of his way to torment his family. It was believed that, while Connie was out of the house, he attempted to kill Toby and may or may not have succeeded. It was believed that he panicked and attempted to cover his tracks— by packing himself and Toby’s live or dead body into his truck and setting fire to their house, which then spread to their entire section of the neighborhood.

Connie Rogers insisted that wasn’t true, and that Toby had brutally murdered his father. People understood, though. Losing both of your children and your husband in the span of six months was bound to cause a breakdown.

Y/n didn’t understand it, because how could the woman that sat there and let her husband abuse her children turn around and insist that her son was the monster?

The blender’s timer went off. Almost without thinking, they grabbed a cold cup and poured the contents of the blender inside of it, grabbing the whipped cream canister and topping the drink off. The top was pressed on and the sticker was stuck to the side. The name was called. 

“Daniels!” They called out, watching as the aforementioned man stood up and walked to the counter. 

He smiled, holding his young daughter’s hand as he took the cup from them. “Thanks, Y/n.” He looked at his daughter expectantly as she took the cup from him.

“Thanks, Y/n!” She parroted back, popping her unwrapped straw into the drink.

They smiled. “No problem.” They did a half wave as the non-dairy blender’s timer went off. Daniels and his daughter made their way to a small table tucked by the window. 

Another half a minute with a ridiculous amount of toppings later and an order was called for an ‘Elissa,’ while Daybreak Café manager Grant Summers entered the store. He made his way to the register, leaning up against the counter and grinning.

“Grant,” Y/n greeted, leaning against the back counter, taking a moment to check the time. 11:07. Calm time, lunch rush in another twenty minutes or so. “You clocking in?”

He rolled his eyes. “You can’t even pretend I’m a regular customer?”

“Not when you look that old,” they mocked, grinning right back at him. “Seriously though, get back here with me. Your apron’s in the office, right?”

“Nah, got it right here.” He reached into his jacket pockets before pulling his own red apron out of it. 

They stared at him for a long second. “How did that fit—?”

“Magic.” He wiggled his fingers and hopped the counter. “Lemme see that…” 

Y/n moved to the opposite end of the counter as Grant clocked in. The door chimed, letting them know that someone else came in.

“Heeey, how can I help you?” Grant began, leaning against the counter again. 

They took a moment to breathe, thinking again. 

The fire had been caught on the news while it was happening. They’d seen it on the tv in the little bar they’d worked in and dropped the cup they were holding. It had shattered and they hadn’t even realized they began crying until their boss pulled them into the back room, holding them close as they began to scream. They were let off of work early. It didn’t matter though— Toby had already disappeared from their life. All that was left of him was the blood stain on the living room floor. That didn’t stop them from finding the ruins of Toby’s room and pulling just one thing out of the ash; a picture of Toby and Lyra. It was in decent condition considering the fire it had just been in. The only thing wrong with it was the picture frame being charred. Now it sat on their dresser at home.

It wasn’t the only thing they had of him. It was just… one of them. They had a box of the various things Lyra and Toby had left with them over their years of friendship. They even still had some of the boxes that Lyra had packed in preparation of moving away. Just three in total, but it was all precious to them. Precious enough to leave in the back of their closet. Precious, but terrifying at the same time. They weren’t quite ready to leave Lyra and Toby behind. Not yet.

The door chimed again. Grant was working the blender. It was their turn to take the order.

Their hand rested on the side of the register as they lifted their head and smiled. “Hey, welcome to the Daybreak Café, how can I help you?” They went cold as they realized who it was.

“Hi, Y/n.” The woman gave a half smile, eyes betraying what she really thought of Daybreak’s assistant manager. Connie Rogers was as beautiful a woman as ever, but her dark brown hair had silver bands throughout it, and her hair had grown out of its carefully maintained bob since Toby left their lives. Her eyes were cold and steely and bags could be seen underneath despite the makeup she’d applied. 

They used to think it was nice that Toby looked like his mother’s little copy with far darker eyes than she had. Now they cursed it, already blinking tears back as they fought off the thought of Toby. Why the hell couldn’t you look like Lyra and Andrew? Why do you have to look like her?

“You’re not welcome here,” they mumbled, pointing out the sign that hung beside the door. We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone. “You need to leave.”

“I’m allowed to get coffee, Mx. L/n.” She turned to pull her wallet from her forest green purse, unzipping the thing and pulling her debit card from it. “I’ll have a large caramel macchiato, please.” She held her card out instead of swiping it.

Y/n snatched the card from her hand and forced the chipped end into the card reader. A couple of seconds went by before they turned the card reader toward Connie. “You need to put your pin in.”

Her fingers were swift and quick to put in her four digit pin number— 08 17, Lyra’s birthday. They remembered it from the amount of times they’d gone grocery shopping with Lyra. “Did it go through?”

They answered her with a nod, typing ‘Rogers’ into the computer and printing the sticker off. They turned away from her and back to the counter to find the syrup pumps.

Grant leaned over their shoulder. “Hey, what’s up?” He whispered, keeping an eye on Connie.

“Toby’s mom.” 

Grant remembered Toby from the news reports done on his disappearance. He also remembered Toby from his assistant manager’s routine breakdowns about their lost friend. The things he’d heard about Connie Rogers had not been kind. “I’ll handle it. Throw that out and get this drink out.” He pressed a tall cup of foamy coffee into their hand.

They nodded, doing as told. They found the sticker that matched with the order and stuck it to the side of the cup before sliding it over the counter and calling out the name. “Amy!”

The blonde woman raised her hand as she walked over to the counter, smiling and thanking Y/n before pausing and looking over to the register.

“I’ve already placed my order,” Connie protested, arms crossing over her chest.

“And I’ve already told you Mrs. Rogers, you’re harassing my employee and can’t stay here.” Grant typed something into the register before popping the tray open and pulling a five and a one out. “Keep the change, just get out.” 

“How am I ‘harassing’ your employee?!” She took the cash from Grant’s hand and tucked it into her purse.

Grant glared at her, popping the tray closed. “This isn’t the first time you’ve come in here to cause issues with them, ma’am. We have all of our CCTV footage stored.” He raised his voice while taking a glance at Y/n out of the corner of his eye. “I suggest you leave before I make you leave.”

“You can’t do this—“ Connie couldn’t finish her sentence. 

Mr. Daniels stood up, a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “Is there an issue?” He called out, nodding at Grant. 

Grant nodded back. “Nothing a call to the police won’t fix.” 

Connie stuffed her wallet back into her purse and turned on her heel, leaving the store with another huff. The door chimed on her way out.

Y/n stared after her, shifting from foot to foot as the customer they’d just served made her way out the store as well. Already their face burned, beads of moisture gathering up at their eyes.

Grant’s hand rested on their shoulder. “Hey, you wanna take a couple hours off?”

“No, I’m- I’m good.” They shook their hand, wiping their eye. “I’ll be fine.”

“Take it as less of a suggestion and more of a ‘go on break.’” Grant smiled, patting them on the back. “Just come back around two.”

They didn’t meet Grant’s eyes. “Okay.”

✦ ✧ ☆ ✧ ✦ 

They’d come back around two, just as requested, and now they were finally heading home for the night. It was long past eleven and banking on midnight. They really should’ve asked Grant to call them while they walked to the parking garage.

Y/n kept their hands in their pocket and their bag close to them, keys slotted between their fingers as cars whizzed past them. At least Dawn would be waiting for them when they got home.

Some car’s horn blared, and they forced themself closer to the buildings they walked alongside to get away from it. The car’s window rolled down and the driver screamed, “STAY AWAY FROM THE ROAD!” before driving off. 

Y/n practically hissed as they froze. They stayed still for only a second before continuing on with their walk. The sooner I get to the car, the better. Dawn’s waiting with dinner. Probably.

She probably cleaned out my fucking fridge.

There was the parking deck. It was dark aside from the cat eyes embedded in the pavement and the deck’s payment terminals on the way out. Luckily for them, the stairs were still open and lit. They pulled the heavy door out and slid in, hand finding the rail almost immediately. They were just three decks up, parked in a spot towards the exit to the floor.

Someone was ahead of them, climbing higher up the stairwell than they were. It didn’t matter.

Why were they so on edge?

They pushed their body against the third floor’s door, exiting the stairwell and finding that they didn’t want to be alone in there with another person. It didn’t take long for them to spot their car.

And it didn’t take long for them to get back to their apartment complex, car locked up and parked and walking up the stairs. 

The paneling on the elderly downstairs neighbor’s balcony was peeling off. They would have to make a call to someone to see if it could be fixed.

They’d barely pulled out their keys when the door swung open, revealing Dawn grinning from ear to ear. “Y/n!” They were tugged in and the door was closed behind them.

“Dawn,” they greeted, sighing and rubbing under their eyes. “Is my fridge in one piece?”

“Even better. I went and bought groceries.” Dawn stood proudly, hands on her hips. She’d braided her mousy brown hair apparently, tying a pale orange ribbon around the end. It was cute.

“Uh huh. You went by the list?” Y/n pulled their apron off, slinging the neck piece over one of their many command hooks by the door.

Dawn nodded, following them as they began to walk. “I did. I got a couple of extra things, like soap and shit, but I paid for it out of my own pocket.”

They shrugged. “That’s fine. I’ll pay you back.” There the fridge was, freshly wiped down with a new sheet of paper stuck under a magnet on it. A new list. They pulled the door of it open and stared at the contents for a moment. “Milk, cheese block, sour cream, why is the bread in the fridge?”

Dawn rolled her eyes. “I like my bread fresh.”

“And you can keep it fresh by tying the bag off.” Y/n pulled the bag from the fridge, setting it on the counter. “Did you get- oh! There it is.” A redbull was sat on the top shelf of the fridge, a sticky note on it with their name written. “Thank you.”

“‘Course.” Dawn reached into the fridge to pull out a soda can, cracking the tab off and tossing it in the trash can. “How was work?”

“Bad.” They patted their redbull and closed the fridge. “I’ve got to get some sleep tonight. I go in at four tomorrow.”

“Jesus, N/n, you’re gonna kill yourself like this,” Dawn commented, frowning as she took a long sip. 

They shook their head. “It’s not that big of a deal. I’m just making a little extra so I can tuck some more away.” The four thousand dollars in their savings account thanked them, but their checking account screamed for mercy.

“Well, if you’ve got to go in early, you should go ahead and go to bed.” 

“Yeah. Thanks. Night, Dawn.” They nodded and exited the kitchenette, strolling into their room and closing the door behind them. They called out, “Remember, you’ve gotta help with rent this month!” before locking it.

Y/n sighed, rubbing their face again. Everything in their room was clean, but ever so slightly messy. The urge to rearrange it was rather strong tonight. They weren’t going to do that, though. They were going to get some sleep and be up at three in the morning so they could go open the store.

Their shoes were kicked off and slid just under the bed, and their pants followed suit. Their shirt was next and was quickly replaced by a sleep shirt. As soon as that was done, they crawled into bed. 

Even though it was dark, they could make out the barest outline of everything as they reached down to plug their phone in. There was the faint shape of their lamp with an old water bottle beside it and the old picture of Toby and Lyra, though in a new frame. Across the room was their dresser, a glass jar full of coins and a stack of books atop it. There was their notebook, their long dull pocket knife, a balled up pair of clean socks and a little frog figurine. Their pens sat scattered atop it, and their winter coat hung from a hook beside it. The closet was shut, but they found comfort in knowing that Lyra’s boxes were still in their place.

The thought of Lyra comforted them. At least they knew what happened to her. She was a neatly tied thread while Toby’s thread had disappeared somewhere among the rest of the mess that was their life. 

While Toby had been their best friend, Lyra had been a calm source of support in their life. She’d been a promise of stability soon, and she’d been strong when her brother and friend couldn’t be. 

They missed Lyra. But Lyra was fine now, away from everything that could hurt her, and, in their opinion, was well-lit by those who loved and remembered her. 

The thought of the blonde girl lulled them to sleep. Their eyes fluttered and finally closed, permitting them the sweet embrace of nothingness.

✦ ✧ ☆ ✧ ✦

Thunder cracked just as their alarm began to blare. They shot up, sheets thrown from their body and feet quickly finding the ground. Their hands found the lamp and turned it on, bathing the room in faint light.

What was it they had seen? It had been something malformed and in pain, something that had definitely once been human but was no longer.

It didn’t matter. It was three. They had work in an hour. Their panting slowed and came to a stop.

They kicked yesterday’s outfit under the bed, finding their dresser and pulling it open. A pair of too-long jeans were selected, along with a pair of socks and a soft long-sleeved shirt made of some sort of jersey material. They were tossed to the bed.

A peek out the window told them all they needed to know. They pulled the closet open and stared at the objects hanging inside of it. The only thing grabbed was a navy blue hoodie with the strings just a little shorter than they should’ve been, and a hole in one of the pocket that they’d patched half a dozen times. It was Toby’s, leant to them during a particularly cold December when they had to walk home by themself. Toby was far closer to their size than Lyra had been, so it had been an obvious choice. He told them not to give it back, but they’d been sure they had seen him staring at it wistfully more than once. 

It would do them good in this weather.  They reached back into the closet to grab their umbrella. It would be needed.

Their clothes were pulled on and they were out the door as soon as their apron was pulled on. They made their way to the Daybreak Café and were awkwardly holding an umbrella over them as they tried to unlock it at three forty.

They were welcoming the day’s first customer in at four-oh-five.

It still thundered outside, meaning customers would be few and far between today. That was fine for them, it just meant less work to be done.

Sometime past four thirty a man came in smelling freshly of cigarette smoke and clearly soaked. 

“I’m sorry for getting your floor wet,” he chuckled, eyes shutting as he tried to smile. “You think I could get an americano and one of those coffee cake slices?” He looked hopeful. And very, very tired.

“Yeah, of course. That’ll be nine ninety, just insert your card there. And can I get a name for that?”

“Yeah.” He pulled his card out, fumbling with it before forcing it into the card reader and putting his pin in. “Uh, Tim please.”

“Gotcha.” They looked over Tim as they typed his name in and pulled the sticker off. 

He had thick dark hair, though they couldn’t tell whether it was black or just a very dark brown, and he had the eyes to match it. It looked like he’d had sideburns at some point, though they clearly hadn’t been trimmed in a while. He was rather pale with equally pale freckles spotting his arms, was a little heavier set than most, and wore khaki colored lace up boots. The strangest thing about him was the yellow bruise under his eye. 

“You should get some ice on that, man.” 

“Oh, uh- yeah.” He rubbed the back of his head, watching them work. “Probably should.”

Something about his presence set them off— he wasn’t dangerous per say, but he definitely wasn’t supposed to be here.

They moved around the back, capping off the coffee and bagging the coffee cake slice for him before slapping the sticker onto the cup. “Where’d you get it?”

“I work in construction. Ran into a guy, had a black eye for a while. It’s a lot better than it was.” He gave his best attempt at another smile. “You’re kinda nosey.”

“Just wanna be safe. Make sure you’re not a murderer or anything, y’know?” They passed his coffee and cake over the counter. “Order for Tim?”

“Got it.” He took the items from them gratefully. “Thanks, Four O’clock Barista.” He reached into his pocket and pulled a five out before sliding it right back over the counter. “Here. For being up so early.” 

They smiled, taking the cash eagerly. “Thanks.” 

Tim left the store in a hurry. Guess construction workers needed to be punctual too.

✦ ✧ ☆ ✧ ✦

Walking to the parking garage was a lot nicer during the day, even if it was still pouring. They normally felt far safer too. But today a blanket of unease had clearly been draped over them. 

A different route was taken today. This one passed just in front of the police station, where a couple of cops (maybe not cops, since they weren’t in uniform and their badges were hung around their necks) huddled outside and under the thin cover of the awning on the building, sharing a cigarette while mumbling about something. 

“-can’t believe them. They just showed up and took a bunch of them!”

“Which boxes?”

“A bunch of the DV boxes. Y’know, the Liddles’, the Hadson’s, even the fucking Rogers’!”

Their blood went cold. Things around them were changing, and not in a way they liked. They walked just a little faster after hearing that.

It took another couple of days to figure out what they meant by that. 

“Mx. L/n, do you think we could have a word?” It wasn’t a cop— another one in casual clothes with his badge hung around his neck. He looked friendly enough, but the officer behind him did not.

Y/n looked over to Grant, setting the whipped cream canister down and frowning. “Um-“

“You can use the office,” Grant offered, taking the canister. “I’ve got things out here for a minute.”

That sealed it, forcing Y/n into an office with the police and barely any space between them. 

“Well, Mx. L/n, I’m Kelsey and this is Moore,” the casual clothes officer started. 

“Um, you can call me Y/n.” They sat down behind Grant’s desk, frowning. “Can I ask what this is about?”

“Of course.” Kelsey leaned against the desk while Moore practically loomed over them. “Well, keep this between us, but recently we’ve had a lot of records go missing.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. And some of those are related to yours. You know what your file was for?”

“Assault. All charges were dropped though, and I was told it wasn’t gonna be on my record.” They glared. “Are you here because my mom-“

“No.” Kelsey shook his head. “No, not here for that. It wasn’t on your personal record, but since we were the ones who dealt with it when it happened we have to keep a record. Like with all of our arrests and the like.”

“Oh.“ They took a deep breath. “What… other records are missing?”

“When the incident with Andrew Rogers happened- you remember that, right? When that happened, you were interviewed because you were close.”

“Yes.”

“Everything related to that case is gone,” Moore said, finishing the statement. “We want to know what you did to them.”

Y/n’s brow furrowed. “What?”

“Toby Rogers has legally been declared dead all of a sudden, all of the Rogers’ family records are gone, your own records are as well, and the only person left to tell the story is you. So that means you had to have done something.” Moore glared.

Y/n stood up, glaring back just as viciously. “So, let me guess— you didn’t check with Mrs. Rogers? You went straight to me? I’m a fucking barista, Officer Moore, not a criminal mastermind.”

Kelsey grabbed Moore by the back of his shirt and pulled him back. “I’m not accusing you of anything- I just want to know-“

“Listen here, the only reason you’re not in prison for how much trouble you’ve caused people is because you were a kid. There’s so many reports about your family it’s not even funny. You think it’s funny to go in and delete everything?!” Moore raged, nose glaring as he tried to lean over the desk and over them. 

Y/n backed up. “Grant!” They yelled, hands meeting the wall. “GRANT!”

“Mx. L/n, please hang on, I’ll deal with this-“ Kelsey took Moore by the shoulders and gestured for Y/n to leave the room temporarily.

Y/n didn’t need to ask. They slipped out as quickly as they dared and escaped through the back door, leaning against the back wall of the café. Their hands were shaking and their breaths were shallow. Tears began to fall from their eyes before they even knew they were crying. Tears quickly turned to sobbing, and sobbing eventually turned into a full blown panic attack. 

Their chest tightened as they tried to calm down, hands trembling as they covered their face, shame burning in their mind. They could hear Grant screaming from inside the building, and eventually heard a police siren far too close for comfort. They remembered their mother and their father stashing plastic bags full of something in the walls before finding them staring at them and turning their hands against Y/n. They remembered learning how to use makeup to hide the bruises. They remembered barricading themself in their room on nights when their parents went just a little too far, of calling the cops half a dozen times and then just giving up. It wasn’t all that fun a stroll down memory lane.

It took thirty minutes to calm down enough to go back inside. It took another ten for Kelsey (and a new officer he’d apparently called for) to get a statement in writing from them. Kelsey left a card with his number with Y/n, warning them that they might be called down to the station because of it.

Kelsey wouldn’t ever get back to Y/n. He’d end up being found in the Adams County Sheriff’s Office parking lot, in his car, strangled with wires found torn out of his car’s speakers. Moore would go missing at some point within the next month. The news would cover his disappearance heavily, and they would even interview his family. Oddly enough, his wife and kids didn’t seem all that sad for him to be gone.

Y/n would take a day off after Kelsey and Moore showed up to their work. Then they’d open again at four in the morning.

And so rainy September became a rainy October.

[bubblyhoney]

can i request a fic where sapnap takes the reader to his hometown? like the classic going to places he went to when he was younger. maybe playgrounds and ice cream shops idk

places i used to go

warnings: language of course, an allusion to virginap, my uneducated guess of what sapnap was like in highschool, tiny detail of long haired!sapnap, singular canon detail of underage drinking, jokish about marriage

tags: sapnap x gn!reader

words: 2191

A/N: you are a god, anon. i love comfy and nostalgic fics like these and it was so fun to write. if you hate it dont tell me but if you like it lemme know akskdjd

inbox/requests: open

-

The wind whips fast on your bare fingers, cool and quick and raising goosebumps in its wake. You blink in the haze of the early sunset, head lolled to the side of the headrest. It feels good.

“That’s where I went to high school.” Sapnap interrupts your thoughts and points a finger at a collection of tall brick buildings down a side street. The silver of the lettering is dull, but you can still feel the nostalgia.

“And you’re about to see the park that me and my friends used to hang out at after work and—actually, nevermind.” His arm drops to the middle console and he looks straight ahead with slightly pinker cheeks.

“Do what?” You ask, voice all sweet, and a grin grows on your face. You turn towards him and wiggle your eyebrows.

“Nothing. Homework.” He avoids your eye contact and hikes his hand up higher on the steering wheel. “Anyways— Do you want to get some food before we head out? I know a great place.”

You two were just coming to a close on your little trip to visit his family; it was his step-mom’s birthday and you decided to make a week of it. It was your first long-term trip with Sapnap, and also your first time meeting his dad’s side of the family. You were proud to say she loved you. His little sister took a little more effort to talk to you of her own volition, but soon enough she was on your side.

You have a couple hours to kill before making your flight back home, so Sapnap has taken it upon himself to give you a quick tour of his hometown.

“Yeah,” you decide, bottom lip popped out. “Can we get ice cream after?”

“Uh, duh.” The Neighbourhood’s Stargazing starts through the speakers and he reaches to turn it down. “I’m so ready to get home and sleep.” He stretches his neck in his seat, letting out an uncharacteristically inappropriate grunt when his bones pop. You make a disgusted face, nose wrinkling, but stretch your own back, slumping down in the seat. The day had been full of packing up and this horrible hike his dad liked to do early in the mornings, so you two were pretty beat.

“Okay, we’re here,” he announces three sleepy minutes later in his best attempt at a whisper. Lifting your head off of the corner of your seat, you blink in the setting sunlight as a yawn splits your face. “You’re so cute.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, and struggle to get your seatbelt off in that post-nap haze. You’d barely been asleep for thirty seconds, damn it. The air is a swampy heat when you step out of the car onto rocky gravel and nearly twist your ankle climbing over the curb. Sapnap catches you by the lower back, trying to hide his laugh but failing miserably. You slide him a dirty look, smacking his shoulder as hard as you can manage while limping towards the front entrance.

The door jingles when you two breach the doorway, alerting a bored-looking hostess that the circus has arrived. She looks at Sapnap a second longer than she should, eyebrows screwed together in silent confusion. But she leads the two of you to a booth near a large window, handing you sticky menus and promptly fucking right off to the host station. She nearly runs.

“Do you know her?” You ask, inconspicuously hiding your face in the search for their 24/7 breakfast menu. You feel his eyes on you.

“Don’t think so.” He leans on one elbow and slides his phone out of his jeans’ pocket. In the 25 seconds it takes for you to find their french toast and sides menu, he has browsed and closed his phone with an animatedly shocked look on his face.

“What?” You give him a weird look and put down the menu.

“I totally went to homecoming with that girl.” He eyes the hostess. You glance over at her again, meeting her gaze, and offer a polite smile. She turns away quickly, eyes wide.

“She’s cute,” you say, voice high and fake, and he drums his fingers on the tabletop as an amused look makes its way onto his face.

“Are you—?”

“What?” You reply right back.

“Nothing.”

Thank God the server comes up to your table then and starts asking for drink orders, or else you’d have to admit (sheepishly) you were a tiny eensy-weensy bit annoyed. Only a tad. But after requesting a Dr. Pepper and a water the conversation surrounding the nervous-looking hostess dies.

“I’m so hungry I think I feel my stomach shrinking.” You flop your head onto your arm on the table top and make a whiny noise into the stack of napkins your server left at the table. Sapnap rubs his thumb into the side of your forearm, touch warm and nearly dissolving the pangs of hunger and jealousy.

“You weren’t hungry an hour ago.” He lifts your hand to his face and plants a kiss on the back of it. Oh, pulling out the big guns, huh? “I would have made you something.”

You tilt onto your chin, pouting, and stare up at his cute face. His cute, scruffy, perfectly-kissable face.

“I think I got hungry staring at you for half an hour.” A mischievous grin grows on your previously-petulant face and he just shakes his head.

“I do have that effect,” he admits with cockiness in his tone, lifting his eyebrows and leaning back into the booth with his lips pursed.

The server returns with two glasses and takes your food orders onto their little yellow notepad. You chug the water down when they leave for the kitchen, getting your lap and chin thoroughly wet in the process. Sapnap just snorts at you and shoves the napkins your way.

“So,” you start, patting dry your jeans. “tell me what you were like in high school.” You cross your arms and settle into the booth, smirk on your lips.

“What I was like?” He parrots, sipping at his soda, looking thoughtful. “Firstly, a virgin.” You make a noise. Duh. Dude had a buzz cut his junior year. (You’ve seen the pictures. His step-mom particularly likes them.) “Secondly, I was actually— well, I wasn’t popular, but I had a lot of friends. We were all semi-athletic lonely band kids but we had fun. Had one girlfriend senior year but she went to Cal Tech in the fall and I didn’t. I, um, worked at a Dairy Queen in the summers and gained so much weight I had to lose all over again for Unified Track.”

“Relatable,” you comment, drinking noisily at your water. He fiddles with the paper straw wrapper and crunches it up into a ball. It goes soaring into your drink with a quiet “Kobe” and you just give him a look. He smiles toothily right back at you. “Stop being cute, I’m trying to listen to your story.”

“Oh, my bad,” he mocks. “Anyways. That’s what I was like in highschool.” You fish the paper ball out of your water and flick it wetly at his arm. It sticks and you choke on a laugh, cheeks puffed.

Two plates of warm food are set down loudly onto the table and you thank the server with a surprised smile, Sapnap mirroring you.

Two minutes of wordless chewing passes, minds occupied just by “food, me eat” instead of anything related to your previous conversation. You realize that Sapnap is one of the loudest chewers ever, and he realizes that you fail to notice the streak of maple syrup in your hair.

“C’mere,” he mumbles through a mouthful of omelet and hash browns and beckons you with his hand. You lean closer, chewing slowly, as he pats a napkin at the strands of hair trapped in syrup.

“Thanks, baby.” You take the napkin from him and pause your assault of the warm french toast before you to clean the sticky sugar out of your hair. He just watches you, half of a smile on his lips.

You two finish your food in record time. It’s borderline vacuum-like. There’s a short grace period where you just sit like two lazy cats, slumped down in the booth and holding your full stomachs. But the check comes soon after, and you both pay your way and are out of the restaurant without any mad dashes for the bathroom. A miracle, really, because of the American-like amount of butter you both consume.

“I’m a much more functional person now,” you mutter into the cotton of his shoulder, swinging your hand in his. He just hums in agreement.

“I guess we’re not getting ice cream, then,” he teases, and you just groan in response.

“I don’t feel like having diarrhea on a plane, unfortunately.” You sigh heavily when you have to split and get into your respective sides of the rental car.

The entire trip (somewhat roundabout because of the amount of side quests to show you things from his childhood) to the airport Sapnap is a chatterbox. He’s like this when he has sugar: either bouncing off the walls with energy or talking your ear off.

“That’s where my dad proposed to my step-mom. I was kinda young but I remember being surprised at how big the ring was— dude broke the bank for her.” It’s a little gazebo you catch a glimpse of through the trees in a park. It probably was an incredibly picturesque moment, and you can sense how much she must have loved it. With just meeting them this weekend, you can already see how much love those two have for each other.

You hope people can see how much you love Sapnap.

“Oh my God, it’s still there.” He points out the side of your window to what looks like a Dairy Queen that has been through World War 3. “My buddy Eric and I once spilled a gallon of that liquid ice-cream-shit all over the men’s bathroom.”

You shoot him a horrified look. “Why was it in the bathroom?”

He just smirks.

“—And that’s my Uncle Ron’s house. Had my first beer there.”

“And last, hopefully,” you add, pulling a disgusted face. The two story bungalow is cute, and one of your favorite colors: olive green. “That shit is nasty.”

He just shrugs and continues down the side street.

“Is this the park you were talking about?”

He pulls into the gravelly parking lot of a small clearing of tall trees, a picnic table and campfire sat squat in the middle. But he doesn’t respond, just turning the car off and climbing out. He reaches the passenger door without speaking, and opens it for you. You climb carefully out, confused.

“Come on.” He takes your hand and starts for a small path to the left of the picnic table. The mid-sunset shade envelopes the both of you.

“I hope this isn’t where you kill me.”

“No,” he snorts. “I just wanted to show you something.”

It’s just a few moments of stumbling through the damp underbrush before you’re coming face to face with a small, mossy pond that sits right underneath an incredibly old willow tree. He stops right on the edge of the rocky path and turns toward you.

“This your make out spot?” You ask between a grin as he snakes an arm around your waist and tugs you flush to him. Your innocent smile fades when you feel the press of his lips to the side of your neck, light and ticklish. Oh.

“No,” he murmurs, and just breathes you in. “I came here once—the night before I graduated highschool. And I told myself when I really really loved someone I’d take them here with me.” He sways with you in his grasp, a gentle and song-less dance.

You grip his shoulder tighter in your hand and lean into him.

“That’s— awfully romantic, huh?” Your voice is quiet. Almost nervous. He just makes a noise of agreement.

“So here we are.” His voice is the opposite of yours, all strong and confident.

You two just move together for a moment. The sun breaks through the tree canopy, shining bright orange down onto the glassy surface of the pond. Crickets and frogs chirp back and forth as the willow vines swing in a cool evening breeze. You watch nature come alive around you, suddenly grateful for the man in your arms.

“Don’t propose,” you whisper, breaking the gentle tension. A laugh breaks the silence and he’s pulling away to look at you. Maybe in disbelief. A strand of hair falls into his eyes and you brush it away, fingers stilling on his temple and sliding down onto his cheek. Stubble scrapes against the skin of your palm and he stares at you through those meadow eyes.

You realize in that moment that he is exactly himself. Of course he is. He’s Sapnap, and everything that encompasses that. Dark and light and fiery and cool. He always has been, and always will be.

You realize you wouldn’t mind if he proposed.

-

A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. let me know what you think

[atlafan]

Je T’aime - One Shot

a/n: Bonsoir! I’m back on my French bullshit! Harry is the head chef at a five start restaurant, and he unfortunately has a new manager coming in: Ariel Bardin. They don’t start off on the right foot, and it just gets worse from there. How will they learn to work together? Read to find out! (not proofread) Support me here if you’re able! FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY PLEASE REBLOG, DON’T JUST LIKE, REBLOG REBLOG REBLOG! LEAVE ME LITTLE NOTES IN THE TAGS, GIVE ME FEEDBACK! I’M BEGGING YALL PLEASE THROW A BITCH A BONE I DO THIS ALL FOR YOU!

Warnings: light soft dom/sub themes within the smut, hate fucking (light degradation, but not really???) lots of swearing, plenty of angst, and a tiny bit of fluff, mild choking

Words: 12.9K

Pairing: Harry Styles x OC (Ariel Bardin)

Managing a five-star restaurant was no easy task. Ariel had to make sure all of the schedules for the waitstaff were up to date, double check that the cleaning crew left everything spotless, and make sure those that came in early had set up the tables as beautiful as can be. There were many headaches that came with all of it: drama with the waitstaff, customers trying to get in without reservations, large parties that couldn’t be turned away because it was for someone famous – it’s what made the previous lead manager of Je T’aime quit. The owner, who lived far away, was not happy about this news since the previous lead manager had been there for years. So, he sent in the only person he trusted to get the job done – his daughter, Ariel Bardin.

Ariel was only twenty-seven, but she was honored when her father asked her to take over. She had plenty of experience in the food service industry, and she watched her father run the place for years. It was always her dream to manage Je T’aime, and now she finally had the chance. Being a lead manager meant giving up a lot of personal time, having to step in when the kitchen got busy, running food, and a lot more. Ariel was more than up to the task.

The head chef of the restaurant wasn’t so thrilled with the change in personnel, though. He had a good relationship with the previous manager in that the manager let him run the kitchen how he liked. Chef Harry had never met Ariel, but he had a feeling things would be a lot different. He was very particular, and ran a tight ship. He didn’t want someone else coming in and thinking they could take command. He knew he needed to get ahead of things. He had emailed her to see if she wanted to meet for dinner to discuss things before her first day, but she declined. Ariel appreciated the initiative, but she explained that she wanted to meet the entire kitchen crew at the same time. Harry was already annoyed that his efforts were thwarted.

Ariel was excited for her first day. She made sure to get a new pair of no slip grip shoes that weren’t totally ugly. She put on a pair of black slacks and paired it with a baby blue blouse. Lastly, she put her hair up in a cute ponytail, and put on a little eye makeup before heading out. She had requested a tasting at the restaurant before it opened for dinner, and she wanted to leave the cooks plenty of time to get their prepping done. She also wanted to get their early enough to set up her new office.

Before entering the restaurant, she takes a deep breath. She smiles and waves to the people setting up the dining tables as she makes her way towards the kitchen. She remembers being a little girl and going to work with her father. She loved it when he’d sit her up on one of the counters because the cooks would always let her taste test their latest creations. They figured if a child liked the cuisine, then adults would too. Ariel goes right to her new office, and smiles. Arthur had kept up the family photo of Ariel’s parents. Her mother was pregnant with her when they opened Je T’aime. In fact, her father named it that because Ariel’s mother was French, and her father learned the language just for her. Ariel’s mother passed a few years back, and it was pretty devastating. She was a wonderful woman, and Ariel always hoped to have a romance like theirs.

She snaps herself out of her thoughts, and starts taking out the things she brought with her from the box she was carrying. This was going to be a great day, she could feel it. She takes out a notepad and pen, and heads back out to the kitchen towards the chef’s office. She taps on the door frame when she sees two men sitting inside chatting.

“Hello?” She says to them, and they both turn in their chairs to look at her. “I’m Ariel, the new lead manager. Which one of you is Chef Harry?”

“That would be me.” Harry stands up to shake her hand.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you. So, that makes you Chef Garrett, right?” She says to the other man.

“Correct, I’m the sous chef, it’s nice to meet you, Ariel.” He shakes her hand as well.

“Wonderful, is everything ready for the tasting? The menu’s changed a lot over the years, and I want to see if it needs anymore.”

“With all due respect,” Harry starts, “the menu’s more than perfect. It changes seasonally as is.” He crosses his arms.

“With all due respect, Chef, I don’t particularly care.” She smirks and crosses her own arms. “I’ve worked hard to get here, and my father finally trusts me to take care of this place. I’m not going to make him regret it. Now, if I like everything, then nothing will need to change. But I’ve got a couple of ideas I may like to try out, and you’ll have to deal with it when the time comes.” She smiles and leaves the office.

Harry and Garrett share a look, and follow her out. A few of the other cooks had already set up the plates for the tasting. Ariel greeted all of them warmly, and started tasting the food. She was impressed, for the most part, but she definitely had notes.

“These mashed potatoes could be whipped a bit more…possibly with more sour cream?” She says. “And this chicken…more seasoning could do it some good. The salmon is excellent, though, just delicious.”

“Chef Harry prepared that.” One of the cooks says, and Ariel looks back at Harry who had a smirk on his face.

Ariel narrows her eyes at him, and then turns her attention back to the food. She enjoyed the pasta dishes, but she makes a face when she gets to the steak frites.

“What…what are these?” Ariel asks as she points at the fries.

“French fries.” Garrett says.

“Mhm, yeah, they should be steak fries, freshly made. These look like they were frozen before.”

“Because they are.” Harry says. “They’re more cost effective. We season them after they’re fried, and they’re great for when kids come in.”

“Kids like steak fries just the same. I want fresh cut potatoes used. They’re more authentic. This isn’t a fast food restaurant. You already have to order potatoes for the mashed potatoes, right? I bet we’d get a discount if we order a larger quantity. We can talk it about it later.”

After tasting a few more things, and thanking the cooks, Ariel heads into the dining room to start greeting the waitstaff. Things felt a lot less hostile with them. Harry was fuming in his office with Garrett.

“It’s her first day and she already wants to change things! And the worst part is, she’s completely right about the bloody fries.” Harry huffs. “Steak fries would be ten times better!”

“Chill, Harry. She just needs to see how well you run things while it’s busy, and she’ll understand her place here. This is your kitchen.”  

“Right, good idea. Her real job is to manage the waitstaff.”

Ariel was on fire. It was a busy night because blackened salmon was the special. She was helping run food, and the waitstaff was extremely impressed. The previous manager rarely helped liked that. She was even running bread and water to tables, starting off orders, and helping seat. She even went behind the bar to help get drinks to tables, and help the bartenders catch up. It was a great first impression. She was exhausted by the time she got to sit in her office at the end of the night. She sat with the head hostess to go over the receipts before cutting her for the night. Her last task was to make sure the kitchen was closed down properly after locking up the safe.

“Ariel?” One of the cooks asks her as she steps out. “Would like anything for dinner before start to throw things away?”

“Throw things away?” She furrows her brows. “I have food at home, thank you, but don’t throw anything out. Surely we can start up a makeshift compost before getting a real one.”

“Oh, well, we don’t throw everything away, just-“

“Can you let me see all of the leftovers that usually get put in the trash?”

The cook nods, and she follows him. Harry was in his office checking over what the most popular orders of the night was, and getting some paperwork done. He notices Ariel speaking with Eddy, and he sighs. He gets up, and makes his way to where they are.

“Is there any particular reason your keeping Eddy from his sidework?” Harry asks her.

“I asked him to show me what usually gets thrown out. This could easily be donated or used for compost. I’ll be coming in early tomorrow to set up a new compost area, and I’ll be talking with the local food kitchens to see what they need. This is good food, and it shouldn’t be wasted.” She crosses her arms. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“Why,” he sucks his teeth, “Come to my office when you’re done telling my staff what to do, we need to talk.” Harry turns on his heel and goes into his office, nearly slamming the door.

Ariel helps the kitchen and dish crew clean a few things up, earning herself even more brownie points, before going into Harry’s office. He doesn’t look up at her until she clears her throat.

“You wanted to talk?” She says.

“Yeah, have a seat.”

“I’d prefer to stand, thanks.”

Harry turns in his seat, and looks up at her.

“Are you and I going to have a problem?” He asks, standing up, towering over her, but she stands her ground.

“I don’t know, are we? Are you seriously going to tell me that you never thought of composting?”

“It’s expensive. We find other ways to stay green, though. You would have known that if you had gone to dinner with me. I could have told you everything you needed to know. But no, you blew me off, and decided to find every possible way to embarrass me and undermine me in front of my staff.”

“Look, Chef, I’m sorry if you feel disrespected, that wasn’t my intention. I just think a lot of changes need to be made. I spoke with the dining staff just the same, it wasn’t just your staff. This place means a lot to me, and I just want to make sure it’s being run well. I…I didn’t think a dinner would be appropriate for us.”

“Why? It’s not like I was asking you out on a date.” He scoffs.

“No, but I just assumed you were going to try to schmooze me or something, and I didn’t want to deal with it. Am I wrong in thinking you were going to try to work me over?”

“It wasn’t to work you over, but the last manager and I sort of had an understanding.”

“Which was what?”

“I do my thing, he does his, and we don’t get into each other’s hair.”

“Well, that’s not how this is going to work.” She gestures between the two of them. “I don’t want things getting hostile between us, for the sake of the staff. I didn’t think we’d be best friends or anything…but I was hoping we’d at least get along.”

“I don’t think that’s gonna happen. Not a great first impression.” He crosses his arms.

“Same could be said to you.” She scoffs. “If you start doing things better, then I won’t have a reason to talk to you. So, do better, Chef.” She looks him up and down, and then leaves his office.

Harry wanted to pull his hair out. This woman was going to make his life a living hell, he could feel it.

//

“What kind of a name is Ariel, anyways?” Garrett scoffs a week or so later. He was in charge of the new composter, and he wasn’t thrilled about it.

“I know! We her parents big fans of The Little Mermaid?” Harry chuckles.

“It’s French.” Ariel says, entering Harry’s office. “And it’s a family name. My grandmother’s name was Ariel, and my mother named me after her.” She looks at both of them and smirks. “And, Ariel just so happens to be my favorite Disney princess, so it’s an honor on many accounts.”

“Did you need something?” Garrett asks her.

“Yes, actually. I wanted to talk about Passover, it’s coming up and we need to talk about a kosher menu.”

“Seems like something for just the two of you to discuss.” Garrett says, and leaves quickly. Ariel takes his seat.

“A kosher menu, huh? Don’t you need a separate kitchen for that?”

“Not necessarily. I was just sort of thinking we could offer some different specials throughout the week.”

“Like what?”

“I’ve got a killer brisket recipe, we could offer a matzah ball soup too. There’s lots of stuff we could whip up. Oh! Macaroons would be good, and maybe some matzah bark as well. I’ve got recipes for all of it if you’re game.”

“When’s Passover?” He sighs and looks at the calendar on the wall.

“At the end of March, plenty of time to order what we need.”

“You know we do a brunch on Easter, right?”

“Yes, I’m aware.” She nods. “If we do for one, we should do for others.”

“If you email me the recipes, I can work on them.”

“Alright, I can do that. I ask that you don’t tweak them. They’re family recipes and I promise they’re golden.”

“One of our cooks is Jewish, he can work on them. I’ll be focused on the brunch food.”

“Oh…well, great, okay.” She stands up. “Thanks for hearing me out. I think a lot of our customers will be excited, and it’ll being good attention.”

“Listen, uh…I’m sorry about Garrett and I before. We were just-“

“Don’t.” She shakes her head. “I know you both don’t like me. I’m a bossy bitch that’s come in and made things difficult, I get it. This isn’t my first male-led restaurant that I’ve managed.”

“Hey, I’ve got no problem with women in charge.” Harry stands up. “You just came in like a bull.”

“Aw, would you have preferred if I pouted my lips and batted my eyes at you, and asked pretty please?” She pouts her lips and bats her eyes at him, making his mouth fall open. She smirks at him and shakes her head. “It’s too easy.” She laughs and leaves his office.

If he couldn’t stand her before, he definitely couldn’t stand her now.

//

It really pissed Harry off at how much the Passover food was liked. The restaurant had never been busier, getting completely booked with reservations from patrons that had never been before, but heard about the diverse specials. Then there was the Easter brunch. Ariel walked in with her hair half pulled up, and the rest of it flowing. She was wearing this gorgeous pastel pink blouse along with some navy slacks. She was dolled up for the holiday. She pumped up the staff during the pre-meal chat, and then she started running around with coffee carafes to help out the busy staff.

It was an elegant brunch, and Harry was also dressed up because the head chef usually went around the dining room checking in with the patrons. He wore his nicest chef’s jacket, and made sure his hair wasn’t too out of sorts before he went into the dining room. Ariel had never seen him be so personable. He was genuinely laughing with people at their tables, she couldn’t believe it.

Ariel was tired, but her customers were happy, and she got to go home around four, which was a blessing in disguise. She couldn’t wait to get home and flop herself onto her bed. She just needed to put the cash in the safe, and check the receipts.

“Is there any lobster mac ‘n cheese left?” She asks as she walks over to the line.

“Got a pan of it right here.” Eddy smiles at her.

“Amazing, I’ve been looking forward to it all day.” She scoops some into a to-go container, and adds a couple of other things she wanted.

“Why is that you always like the food I make the best?” Harry smirks as he also fills up a container for himself.  

“I’m not too big to admit you’re a very talented chef, Harry.” She says and looks at him. “It’s your personality that could use some work, Happy Easter.” She smiles at him. “Great job today, everyone!” She exclaims before making her way back to her office.

“Man, did you see Ari’s tits in that shirt today?” One cook says to another.

“Her tits? I was too busy sneaking a peek at that ass of hers. Wouldn’t mind tapping it.”

“Oi.” Harry says to them. “None of that, alright? It’s rude.”

“C’mon, Chef.” One of the cooks says. “I know you don’t like her, but even you can admit she’s hot.”

“Do you all want to get out of here on time to see your families?!” Harry shouts. “Finish cleaning up.” He huffs, and goes back to his own office.

“He’s not wrong.” Garrett says to the cooks. “Don’t be disrespectful.”

“Yeah.” Eddy chimes in. “Don’t think your girlfriends would appreciate it very much if they knew you were talking about another woman like that.”

Harry was about to head out for the day. He was going to go home and cuddle up with cat, Luna, and veg out. He walks by Ariel’s office, and he stops short. He sees her sitting with her face in her hands. He looks around behind him, they were the last two people there.

“Hey, are you alright?” He says as he opens the door, and she jumps in her chair a bit, obviously startled.

“Yeah.” She wipes under eyes. “I’m fine, why?”

“You just…were you crying?”

“No, don’t be silly.” She wipes under eyes again. “I’m just a little sweaty, I ran around a ton today.”

“How was the mac ‘n cheese?”

“I haven’t eaten it yet, I’m bringing it home…”

“When are you headed out?”

“Soon.”

“I can wait for you, if you want…”

“I’m all set.”

“Ariel, if something’s wrong-“

“Nothing’s wrong! Go home, Harry! I’m just finishing some things up.”

“You know something, you are a bitch.” He puts his hands on his hips. “I was just trying to be nice, and you have to be so nasty about it!”

“Right, because I need a fuckwad like you checking on me.” She rolls her eyes. She takes her leftovers and puts them in the trash.

“What are you doing?!”

“I’ve lost my appetite.” She says, standing up, grabbing her purse, and brushing by him on her way out.

Harry was shocked Ariel hadn’t turned his hair white with how much she stressed him out. The interaction they had pissed him off to no end. He had defended her, told his staff not to talk about her a certain way. Then, when he sees her in distress, she’s as ungrateful as ever. He tried calming down in the shower, but that didn’t work. He tried watching TV with Luna, but he just wanted to know what she had been so upset about in the first place.

He takes out his phone, and searches her on Facebook. He figured she must have one, if not he would search Instagram. He rolls his eyes when he sees how gorgeous she looks in her profile picture. She had most of her privacy settings on, but his eyes widen when he sees her tagged in a post. It was written in French.

Il y a quinze ans aujourd'hui, nous avons perdu notre Nana Ariel. Comme elle nous manque tellement, et nos étés avec elle sur les plages françaises.

Harry only understood a few words, so he taps the translate button: Fifteen years ago today, we lost our Nana Ariel. How we miss her so, and our summers with her on the French beaches. He furrows his eyebrows at the photos. It must have been a cousin that tagged Ariel. Her nana looked like a lovely woman.

“Shit.” Harry sighs. Ariel was probably putting on a brave face all day. He knew her mother had passed, but he wasn’t sure about her grandmother. Her female figures were gone, and he called her a bitch to her face. He felt terrible. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

Harry gets off his couch and goes into his kitchen. An hour or so later, he’s driving to Ariel’s house to deliver a fresh lobster mac n’ cheese. He was lucky he knew her address. She lived in a quaint neighborhood. He pulls up out front, and goes up to her door, ringing the bell. After a few moments she opens the door. She was in a long robe, and slippers. Her hair was up in a bun on the top of her head.

“Harry?”

“Here, feel better.” He practically shoves the casserole dish into her arms. “And…I’m sorry I said that to you, okay?”

“What is this?”

“Lobster mac n’ cheese. You threw yours out because I was being an ass…but to be fair you snapped at me first.”

“What made you do this?”

“The Easter bunny came to me in a dream, alright? It doesn’t matter, just take it and eat it. M’sure you don’t feel like cooking after such a long day.”

“Well, you’re right.” She raises an eyebrow at him. “I’ll take it, thank you. I shouldn’t have been so short with you.”

“I shouldn’t have tried to pry. I’ll see you Tuesday.”

“Yeah….” She almost invited him to have some with her, but as nice as the gesture was, she didn’t really feel like spending anymore time with him today. So she lets him leave.

Harry was back on his couch in no time with Luna, feeling much better than he did before. He feels his phone buzz, and he looks down to check his notifications.

Ariel Bardin: I don’t know what makes me more furious, the fact that you’re an incredible cook, or the fact that such a simple dish could make me feel ten times better

Harry smirks down at the message. This didn’t change anything between the two of them, but Harry felt a little better knowing there was a bit of a common ground between them now. They didn’t have to like one another, but maybe there would be a bit more respect.

//

There was a respect between them, but the two still bickered and argued and made things difficult for one another. He’d call her a spoiled brat, and she’d call him a fat headed fuck, it was just their thing. No one in the kitchen seemed to mind, especially because if Harry was yelling at her, then he wasn’t yelling at them. Garrett had warmed up to Ariel considerably over the last few months. He was starting to see that she really did mean well, and over time the changes she made were for the better.

A lot of people understood why Ariel and Harry butted heads so much. They both had dominant personalities, and kitchens were hot. Usually one of them would go into the walk-in fridge, and come out much more cooled down. As the summer months started, it just got worse.

“I’m not sending out wilted lettuce!” Harry screamed at her.

“It’s not wilted!” Ariel screamed back.

“Did you go to culinary school?! You’re not the fucking expert, I am!”

“So, you’re just going to chuck perfectly good lettuce because you think it’s wilted! Put your fucking glasses on!”

“Enough!” Garrett yells. “We’ll double check the lettuce and make sure none of the dingier looking pieces get sent out. Take a break, the kids are getting scared.” He was referring to the kitchen staff, and to the few waitstaff that were in the kitchen.

They both growl and walk away from one another. They stayed away from each other for the rest of the night. Ariel was there late catching up on some paperwork. She jumped when she heard something fall on the ground. She thought everyone had gone home for the night. When she goes out to the kitchen to see Harry, she sighs with relief.

“Scared the shit out of me, what are you still doing here?” She storms over to him.

“Prepping the dinner roll dough so it’s ready to go for tomorrow. It’s been too hot to make it in the morning. The prep cooks can just come in and use the ovens while it’s still cool if the dough’s already set and proofed.” He says as he continues to knead the dough on the counter.

“Why not have someone else do it?”

“Why should I make someone else stay late?” He scoffs.

“Well…here, I’ll get an apron so I can help.”

“I’m all set.”

“Don’t be silly, it’ll help you get out of here faster.”

“What do you care about that?”

“God, you’re so stubborn.” She goes to wash her hands, and steps over to the dough, but he swats her hand away when she goes to reach for it.

“Go home, Ariel.”

“What the fuck is your problem?!”

“You! You’re my fucking problem! Cooking is supposed to be relaxing, this is my me time, and you’re ruining it!”

“Well, excuse me for offering to help!”

“I don’t need your help!” He slams a fist down on the counter, causing flour to splatter onto her chest and face. “Oops.” He smirks.

Ariel wipes her face off, gathers a bit of flour, and flicks it into Harry’s face. He takes a deep breath and looks at her.

“Oops.” She says in the same mocking tone he had.

“You know, for someone who hates wasting food, I’d think you’d be more careful.” He says, wiping his face off. “It was an accident when I did it.”

“Oh well.” She shrugs.

“You,” he starts walking towards her, backing her up to the opposite counter, “are one of the most infuriating people I have ever met.” They were practically chest to chest. She could feel his breath fanning over her face. “I wish you never started working here.”

“You know what they say, can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.” She says, looking up at him with a searing gaze.

“It’s my kitchen, you get out.”

“Make me.”

Harry’s eyes widen, and his nostrils flare. He was about ready to boil over. He’s not sure what comes over him, but his flour covered hands reach up to cup her cheeks, and he leans down to kiss her roughly, pressing her further against the counter. She gasps as he does it, but she doesn’t fight him. She doesn’t push him away, she doesn’t do a thing to get him to stop. In fact, she reaches to tug at his shirt so he could be even closer to her. She could taste the mint from his gum, and his lips were insanely soft. He breaks the kiss first, but doesn’t move her hands from her face.

She opens her mouth to speak, possibly to question him on why he kissed her, but she doesn’t get the chance because he’s kissing her again, this time licking into her mouth. She pushes against him, backing him up to the opposite counter, and he grunts against her. Her arms move to wrap around his neck, and her fingers tug at his hair. Just as she was sucking on his tongue, he shoves her up against a nearby wall, and lifts her up. She wraps her legs around his waist, and he carries her over to a counter to sit her on.

Their lips hadn’t parted, and they both needed air, but neither could stop. Harry kisses sloppily towards her neck, and she bites on her bottom lip to suppress a whimper. She reaches down to untie the apron he had on, and she tugs it off. His hands work to undo her pants just as he bites down on the crook of her neck, making her gasp.

“Lift your hips ups.” He says into her ear before nibbling onto her lobe. She does as he says so he can tug her pants down. He places his hands on her thighs, and scratches his nails down them before looking at her. “You want this?” She nods yes at him. “Need you to actually say it. I’m not gonna do anything you don’t want.”

“I want it.” Her cheeks flush. “Happy now?”

“Very.” He growls, and bites down on her bottom lip before letting it snap back. He reaches between her legs, and he groans. “You’re soaked, did yelling at me rile you up?”

“No.” She blushes, and then tugs at his hair. “Stop talking before I change my mind.”

He tugs her panties to the side so he can get a real feel for how wet she is. He plunges two fingers inside of her, and her mouth falls open. Her head rolls back as he pumps them in and out of her.

“Christ, when was the last time someone fucked you?” He grunts. “You’re so tight.”

“Harry, please, shut the fuck up.” She grits her teeth and reaches for the button on his pants.

“Only cause you said please.” He smirks, and she flicks his forehead.

He sucks his teeth and reaches into his back pocket for his wallet, pulling out a condom. She rolls her eyes at the fact that he’s one of those guys that kept a condom in his wallet, but she wasn’t going to complain too much. She was glad he had one. He takes himself out of his pants, getting them down just enough, and rolls the condom on. He looks at her, just to make sure one more time that it was alright and she nods. He splays his hands on her back, pulling her closer as he pushes inside.

“Fucking, shit.” He grunts.

“Try to last longer than a minute there, sport.” She says, trying desperately not to wince at the stretch he was giving her.

“God, I fucking hate you so much.” He says as he starts to thrust in and out of her. She grips his shoulders to hold onto him.

“The feeling’s, ngh, mutual.” She bites down into his shoulder to suppress her moans, but he yanks her head back by her ponytail.

“If I’m gonna fuck you, you’re gonna let out every single little sound, do you understand?”

“You really like telling me what to do.” She grunts.

“And you’re shit at listening.”

“So are you!”

“Weren’t you just telling me to shut up?! Take your own fucking advice!”

She lets out an exasperated noise, and crashes her mouth back to his. He grips her hips as he pounds into her. Her legs wrap tighter around him to get him even closer. They’re both moaning into the other’s mouths. One of his hands leaves her hip, and he brings it over to rub at her clit. She whimpers, and starts panting. He nips at her lips, and works his way back to her neck.

“Fuck, ugh, that’s it.” She mewls. “I’m close, don’t stop.”

“Can feel you squeezing me, like the way I feel?” He licks up her neck back to her ear, and then slots his mouth over hers, not even giving her a chance to answer him before she’s crying out.

She lets her body rest against his as he picks up the pace. He was close himself, but he was trying to savor how good she felt. She was soaked between her legs because of him. He’d never let her live this down. A few more thrusts, and he’s spilling into the condom.

He rests his forehead against hers for a few moments as he catches his breath. He pulls out of her, and tugs her panties back into place before helping her off the counter. They both wordlessly work to get their clothes back on properly.

“So, uh, do you really not want help with the dough?” She asks, smoothing some hair away from her face.

“No, it shouldn’t take me too much longer…thank you.” He chews on his bottom lip. “Why don’t you wait, though, I’ll walk you to your car.”

“Sure…I was in the middle of some paperwork anyways. Just come get me when you’re done.”

Harry nods and goes to wash his hands before getting back to what he was doing. Ariel makes her way to the bathroom to properly clean herself up. They walk to the parking lot together later in silence. He makes sure her car starts before driving off and heading home to Luna.

//

Work was…awkward after that. Everyone was confused because the kitchen had never been more quiet. Ariel had mostly kept to herself and if she had something to say, she was less brash. Harry was the same towards her.

“Do you think we could add pudding pie to the summer dessert menu?” She asks him. “Like an Oreo thing?”

“Um, sure, yeah…should be easy enough to work into the rotation.” He says. “Good, uh, good suggestion.” He swallows.

“Thanks, Chef.” She nods and walks away from him.

“Dude, not that I’m complaining, but what’s up with you two?” Garrett whispers to him as they both work to chop vegetables.

“Nothing.” Harry shrugs a shoulder. “We’ve just…reached an understanding, is all. We, uh, hashed things out a week or so ago.” He clears his throat. “Just focus on the your beets for the borsht. I need to get started on that chilled melon soup.”

Harry heads into the walk-in fridge to grab the cantaloupe he had already cut up to make the soup with. He was essentially making a creamy smoothie, but this was one of their summer best sellers. He stops short when he sees Ariel trying to reach for something on the top shelf.

“Need a hand?” He asks, and it startles her.

“Y-yeah, could you get the, uh, shredded Brussels down for me?”

Harry nods and reaches above her to grab the pan. He hands it to her, and she thanks him before making her way towards the door.

“Ariel?”

“Yes?”

“How…how have you been since-“

“We can’t talk about it now.” She shakes her head. “Find me later if you want.”

And that’s what he does. At the end of the night, Harry goes into Ariel’s office and sits down at the spare chair she had.

“So…what’s up?” She asks him.

“I just wanted to see how you were since we, you know…” He looks away from her for a moment. “We haven’t talked about it.”

“I didn’t think you wanted to.” She shrugs. “It’s really not that big of a deal, it was a heat of the moment thing.”

“Yeah.” He swallows. “Nothing more to it than that. I can’t help but notice that things have been a tad more civil between us over the last week.”

“I just haven’t wanted to make waves, I guess. Sort of hard to yell at the guy that made me come as hard as I did.” She says shyly, and he smiles.

“Glad I could finally be of some use to you.” He smirks.

“Don’t get too cocky. I have things at home that make me feel even better.” She smirks and his face falls.

“It was good, though, right?”

“Yeah…nice way to get some frustration out.”

“I think…I think that’s how we make things work here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, think of how peaceful everything’s been this week with us being nicer to each other. I think when we’re starting to get on each other’s nerves we should just fuck because clearly talking shit out doesn’t work too well.”

“Are you asking me to be your fuck buddy?”

“The word buddy implies that we’re friends, and we’re not. I still can’t stand you, Ariel.”

“Likewise.”

“But you’ve got a tight cunt that I wouldn’t mind fucking into again, so what do you say?”

“Harry, this is a five star restaurant. We can’t just fuck in the kitchen every time we get on each other’s nerves. That’s a major health code violation.”

“So we wait.” He shrugs. “We both have cars and houses. Lots of places to let out our frustrations.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“You do that.” He says, and stands up to leave.

“You didn’t tell anyone, did you?”

“Might have mentioned to my cat, but only because she was mad at me for getting home so late. I’m not one for bragging about intimate details.”

“Good.” She nods. “Thank you.”

Harry leaves her office and she sighs heavily. She wasn’t expecting the conversation to go that way at all. Ariel thought for sure Harry was going to say that it was a mistake and it never should have happened, but he didn’t. He wanted to fuck her s again, he said it himself. And he wasn’t wrong, the kitchen had been a much happier place to be over the last week. The only thing was, she didn’t know if she wanted to give into his request so easily. He was the one who admitted to wanting to do it again, not her. The ball was totally in her court! She also wasn’t too sure how smart it would be to start fucking her chef on the regular. It could do more harm than good.

//

“What do you mean you let a party of fifteen come in?!” Harry shouts at Ariel, who was now putting on an apron and gloves to help the cooks out.

“You heard me! We can either waste time arguing about it, or we can get to preparing their meals! It’s not you who’s gonna have to stay late, it’s me and my dining staff.”

“Why would you let a group of fifteen come in right before closing?!”

“Because they paid up front with cash for four bottles of $500 wine!”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah, holy shit. They already gave us their order, so we just need to get everything out to them, and then everyone can clean up. Let’s move!”

Harry sighs heavily, but does as she says. He and Garrett get to work on the entrees while the cooks work with Ariel on the appetizers. She runs the food out so she can help out her dining staff that were trying to wrap up their sidework. Two hours after closing, the large party left, and luckily they left a huge tip. They apologized over and over again about coming in so late. Apparently they were in a production for something, and it closed so they wanted to celebrate. Ariel assured them it was fine. She sighs when she’s finally able to go back into her office. She still needed to go over all the receipts for the night.

“Need any help with that? I know your hostess usually gets this done with you…” Harry says as he walks into her office.

“No, thank you.” She says without looking at him. “You can go, I don’t need you to wait for me.”

“You’re such a hypocrite.” He shakes his head and sits down. “You tried to force yourself two weeks ago into helping me make some bread dough, and now here I am offering up some help and you won’t take it.”

“Guess the shoe’s on the other foot.” She still wouldn’t look at him, so he reaches forward to grab her chin, and turns her head in his direction.

“You’re, quite literally, the most annoying person I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah? Then why are you trying to fuck me right now?”

“Who said I was trying to do that?” He says, letting go of her and sitting back in the chair.

“Please, it’s so obvious.” She scoffs. “We’re the last two people here, you’re coming in here offering help. What’s wrong, hm? None of my waitresses wanted to suck you off?” She pouts at him, and his face hardens.

“I have never done anything like that with a member of the dining staff.”  

“No? They sure talk about you like you have.”

“You sound a little jealous.” He smirks.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” She deadpans.

“You know, when my cooks make crude remarks about you, I tell them it’s wrong and to stop. Do you even try to defend me when you hear them talking out there?”

“Sure I do, I tell them that this neither the time nor the place for any of that, and that they should have more respect for you. One of the bartenders, Jess, she seems to have a thing for you. Her eyes are glued to you every time you come out into the dining room. Why not go be her fuck buddy?”

“Because I don’t want to fuck her.”

“And you want to fuck me?” He nods yes at her. “Why?”

“Because despite how much I can’t stand you, it was a good fuck and I’d like to do it again. This isn’t news, we’ve talked about this already.”

“I smell like food.” She mutters as she gets back to checking the receipts.

“So do I.”

“So, go home and shower and meet me at my place in a little while. I’ll text you when I’m ready.” She looks at him. “Go feed your cat or whatever, I’m sure she’s missing you.”

Harry tries his best to bite back the smug look that was growing on his face. Wordlessly, he stands up and leaves her office. Ariel shakes her head and continues with their work.

“Far too easy.” She says to herself with a smirk.

//

Harry didn’t end up at Ariel’s place until nearly midnight. It took her a while to finish things up at work, and then she wanted to shower so she didn’t smell like food anymore. Her rings her doorbell, and she opens it wearing the same robe she had been wearing the first time he showed up at her place, only this time she wasn’t wearing her cute little slippers, and her eyes weren’t puffy from crying. She doesn’t say anything to him, she just steps aside to let him in.

He doesn’t look around, he doesn’t compliment her place, all he does is kick his sneakers off, cup her jaw, and shove her up against the wall. His mouth crashes to hers, and she sinks into it. She almost wanted to sigh with relief. It was amazing how simply kissing someone could make you forget all your troubles. She tugs him closer to her, and his hands brush down her body to lift her up.

“Where do you want it?” He breathes as she wraps her limbs around him.

“Bedroom, upstairs.” She says before kissing on his neck.

He grunts as he finds his way to the staircase, and carries her up. Of course, he makes a few pit stops to kiss her, smoosh her up against the wall and lick into her mouth. When he finally does make it to her room, he practically tosses her on the bed. He starts to rid himself of his clothes while she sits and watches.

“Aren’t you going to take yours off?” He asks after getting his shirt off.

“M’only wearing this.” She shrugs. “Thought you might like to take it off yourself.”

“Stand up.” He tells her and she does so, walking over to him.

His hands reach for the tie on her robe, and he undoes it. He pushes it off her shoulders, and licks his lips when he sees her naked body, the robe pooling at her feet. He wraps his arms around her waist, and pulls her close so he can kiss on her chest. He licks between the valley of her breasts before pulling one of her nipples into his mouth with his teeth. He sucks on it harshly, eliciting a soft moan from her. He walks them back towards the bed, and he pushes her onto it. He climbs on top of her, and goes back to kissing on her chest. He works his way down her stomach, nipping where he pleases, before he’s able to lay comfortably between her legs.

“You…you don’t have to.” She says to him, and he looks up at with a confused look.

“I know I don’t, I want to. Didn’t get to do it last time.” He rubs circles into her thighs with his thumbs. “Do you not want me to?”

“No, I just…I don’t know, it’s sort of intimate for what this is.” She chews on her already swollen bottom lip. “You really want to?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t wanna suck your dick.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“Okay.” She takes a deep breath and opens her legs for him.

He uses his thumbs to open her folds up a little more so he could better see what he was working with. Ariel always hated this part when a guy would go down on her. She always felt like she was at the doctor’s office getting a checkup. She stopped feeling like that the second his tongue licked around her clit. She sits up on her elbows to watch him. He continues to lick around her clit, watching it get a little more swollen each time and then he sucks on it.

“Ah!” She gasps, reaching for his hair to tug on.

His fingers soon replace his tongue on her clit so he lick around where she’s wet for him. He moans into her after he finally gets a real taste. She smelled sort of like cocoa butter, he assumed she moisturized after her shower. For a woman that couldn’t stand him, she sure was considerate. He licks into her, and she squeaks out a noise that she had never heard come out of her own mouth. Ariel tries to wrack her brain, but she can’t seem to recall a time where a guy had ever actually licked into her before, teasing her in such a way with their tongue. Harry was licking and sucking on her while his fingers were working magic on her clit. She had tears in her eyes from how good it felt. Her thighs were squeezing against his head, and her heels were digging into his back, but he didn’t care. He was too caught up with fucking her with his tongue.

“Shit, I…fuck, Harry, I’m gonna come!” She warns him, and all he does his moan into her, encouraging her to do so.

She tugs on his hair a little harder as she cries out, back arching and head rolling back. He sits up and licks his lips. She was speechless, she had no words. He reaches into his back pocket to pull out a condom before standing up to get his pants off. His cock slaps back against his stomach once it’s free, and her eyes widen. His tip was already leaking.

“You got that turned on just from eating me out?” She wasn’t being condescending, in fact, her tone was full of shock.

“Yeah.” He says as he rolls the condom on. He knees back onto the bed, and shuffles to sit up against the headboard. “Since you’re not gonna suck me off, the least you could do is ride me for a bit.”

Her mouth falls open at that. She wasn’t quite sure how he expected her to have the energy to ride his dick after what he just did to her. She furrows her brows, and moves herself onto his lap. When they make eye contact, she realizes that she doesn’t want to look at him, so she turns herself around to ride him reverse. She guides him in, and sighs into her ear once he hits bottom. She takes a moment just to get reacquainted with him before she starts to swivel her hips in little circles. He gets an arm around her, securing it between her breasts, and gripping her shoulder to help keep her close and steady. He nibbles on her earlobe, and she whimpers. He carefully thrusts up into her as she grinds on him. She couldn’t believe the restraint he had. Most guys would thrust up too far when she was on top and it would hurt. But this…this felt heavenly. She almost hated him more because he was so good.

His mouth moves to the crook of her neck, sucking a bruise into her skin. Her head rolls back, and his other hand snakes around to rub at her clit. She picks up the pace, bouncing a little more on him. The way he was grunting and moaning was giving her goosebumps, which was an odd sensation to feel while her skin also felt extremely hot. His tip starts to hit her g-spot in just the right away, and she loses all control of the noises she’s letting out.

“That’s it.” He groans. “Come all over my cock.”

“Oh my god.” She mewls.

Her fingernails sink into the meat of his thighs as she cries out. She arches into him, and looks up at him, almost distressed, so he licks into her mouth. One of her arms hooks around his head to tug at his hair as she rides out her orgasm. She squeezes around him so tightly that after one more thrust he’s spilling into the condom. She lets her body go slack against him as they both catch their breaths. He sponges open mouth kisses to her neck and jaw before lifting her off of him. She whimpers from the abrupt change.

“Sorry.” He says. “Know that stings a little.”

“Yeah, just a little.” She swallows.

She watches him get off the bed and throw the condom away. He walks right into her bathroom, he didn’t even ask first, and she wasn’t sure why that annoyed her so much, but it did. When he comes out, he grabs his clothes to put back on. She goes to the bathroom next and puts her robe back on when she comes out. She walks him down the stairs and to the door.

“Well, uh, have a good night.” He says, running his hand through his hair.

“You too.” She opens the door for him, and he quickly steps out. She closes it and sighs, resting her forehead against it. She hated him, she really did.

//

A pattern had started between them. After hooking up, things were usually cool for about a week, until they’d eventually fight over something. The cooks almost wanted to set up a bingo card of things they fought over.

“Why can’t we offer lentil pasta instead of just gluten free?!” She yells one day.

“Because lentil pasta is more expensive than standard gluten free pasta!”

“You’re such a cheap prick!”

“I’m sorry, I’m trying to save this restaurant some money!”

“We can splurge on some different options! It’s what the people want!”

“Oh, did your bloody survey results tell you that!”

“Yes, as a matter of fact!” His eyes were full of rage. They were both in his office going over the order sheet.  “Why can’t we just order it, try it out, and see how many people order it? If it’s a flop then we don’t have to order it again!”

“Fine!” He throws the clipboard with the order sheet onto his desk. “You’re coming to my place tonight.” He says lowly.

“M’allergic to cats.”

“Take a decongestant then.” He brushes by her to open his door, and he slams it behind him, leaving her standing in there.

Despite her gut telling her not to go, she follows him to his house after work. They say nothing to each other as they walk in. Luna comes over to greet Harry, and he picks her up. Ariel grimaces at the cat.

“You seriously don’t think she’s cute?” Harry asks.

“I’m not a cat person, they’re no fun.”

“You just haven’t met the right cat, then.” He snuggles Luna to his cheek for a moment before setting her down. “My room’s this way.” He nods towards the hall on the right, and she follows him. He walks straight into his bathroom and turns the shower on.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re doing this in the shower, I smell like steak.” He says, already taking his clothes off. She crosses her arms and huffs. “What?”

“I don’t want to shower right now. Just rinse off quick.”

“Ariel, I wasn’t asking. Get your ass in the bathroom, now.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are? What do you think this is? You can’t just – mmph!”

He had yanked her into him, kissing her to shut her up. She doesn’t fight him on it at all, and he walks them both into the now steamy bathroom, kicking the door closed. They both work quickly to get the other naked before stepping into the warm water.

“You better have a fucking spare towel.” She mumbles against his lips.

“Obviously.” He bites her bottom lip and then steps back from her. He reaches to grab his body wash.

“You’re seriously taking a shower?”

“Yeah.” He says as he lathers his body up. “I was balls deep in au jus today.” He steps in the water to rinse himself off. “Much rather be balls deep in something else, though.” He tugs her to him, licking into her mouth, and reaching between her legs to rub at her folds. His middle finger slips inside her, and she gasps. “Always so ready for me.” He grunts, and backs her up against one of the tile walls. “Can I hit it raw?”

“Are you, um, are you clean?” She asks.

“Yeah, are you?”

“Yeah.”

He grins, and hooks one of his arms under one of her legs to lift it up enough for him to have the room to thrust up into her. She grips his shoulders as he rocks in and out of her. He slots his mouth over hers and they both moan. Her nails rake down his torso and she grabs onto his love handles for dear life as he pounds in and out of her.

“You really fucking pissed me off today.” She says to him. “It’s just pasta.”

“You like spending money left and right.” He grunts.

“If people like it, then it’ll bring in more business. It could pay for itself.”

“The more people that want it, the more we’ll have to, shit, buy.”

“I’m aware of how supply and demand works, you asshole.”

Harry growls at her and presses his other hand to her throat.

“Do us both a favor, and just shut the fuck up, yeah?”

She nods at him and he lets go of her throat, but she pulls his hand back to keep it there. He groans because, quite frankly, it was one of the hottest things he had ever seen someone do. He wasn’t going to last very long, and he had no way of rubbing her clit.

“Touch yourself, rub your clit.” He says into her ear, his breath hot on her.

She snakes a hand between the two of them, and she whimpers when she touches her throbbing clit. She presses on it and rubs circles into the little bud.

“Ah, oh fuck.” She starts panting. “Just like that, Harry, shit.” She wanted to cry she was so close. She bites down on his shoulder as she comes to her release. She didn’t want her noises to scare his cat.

He pulls out of her quickly and comes on her stomach. He steps away from her and grabs his shampoo. She stands there awkwardly while he scrubs his head.

“You can use my body wash if you want.” He says, nodding to it. Ariel doesn’t say anything. She starts to tear up. “Hey, whoa, are you alright?”

“I…um…” She blinks a few times, but can’t really form a sentence.

He’s not sure what’s going on, but it he takes it upon himself to guide her back into the water to rinse her off. He gets his body wash on a spare cloth to wash her with, and then he turns the water off. He grabs a towel to wrap around her, and then gets one around himself. He picks her up and sits her on the sink counter to get a better looks at her.

“Talk to me, what happened?”

“I’ve never, um, let someone, uh…choke me before.” She looks up at him, and he sighs.

“Did I hurt you?” He asks softly.

“No.” She shakes her head. “Just felt a little…floaty for a second, like, lightheaded.” She swallows. “M’fine, I think it was just the steam. I have asthma and it can act up after a particularly hot shower.”

“If I had known I wouldn’t have-“

“I put your hand back on me, it’s okay.” She takes a deep breath and hops off your counter.

“Do you…wanna just crash here?”

“No.” She laughs. “Not at all.”

“You can’t drive if you’re all lightheaded.”

“I’m fine now.” She says as she puts her clothes back on. “I need to get going, I have a busy day tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow’s your day off.”

“Yeah, and I have things to do.” She leaves his bathroom, and he follows her out to his front door.

“Just…could you at least text me when you get home?”

“Sure.” She nods. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

She’s out the door in a flash. Harry didn’t quite understand why things were always so awkward with them afterwards. It was like neither of them ever knew what to say because they just didn’t really know how to be soft with one another. Harry scoops up Luna and brings her to bed with him. About twenty minutes later his phone buzzes.

Ariel Bardin: I’m home

Harry Styles: thanks for letting me know, you made me nervous for a second there

Ariel Bardin: I’m fine, you can go back to not giving a fuck now

Harry Styles: will do, goodnight!

Every time he was nice to her, she had to reject it. He hated her, he really did.

//

“You’re really liking it, you’re not just saying that?” Ariel’s father, Frank, says to her.

“Yes, Papa, I swear.” She smiles. “It’s better than I thought.”

“Good.” He sips on some lemonade. “You look awfully tired.”

“It was a long night.” She shrugs.

“How are things going with the head chef, Harry is it?”

“Yeah, um, I mean, we butt heads from time to time, but it’s fine.”

“It wouldn’t be a normal kitchen if the manager and chef didn’t butt heads.” He chuckles. “I used to fight with the chef all the time.”

“Papa…Uncle Matthew was the head chef when you were there.”

“Don’t I know it. We fought constantly, stubborn old bastard.” He shakes his head. “We still argue about recipes to this day.” He laughs. “Tell me, are you still planning to do the staff appreciation shindig at the end of the summer?”

“Course I am. Hotel’s booked and everything. It’s going to be a fabulous evening.” Ariel smiles. “The dining staff are really excited.”

“Good, good.” He nods. “Do you think you’ll bring a date?”

“Papa.” She groans. “I’d have to be seeing someone in order to bring a date.”

“You work too much, you don’t make time for yourself. Your mother and I were married with a kid by the time we were your age, you know?”

“Yeah, I’m the kid.” Ariel laughs. “I just have other priorities right now.”

“There’s really no one you’re talking to? No one that you like?”

“No.” She takes a sip of her own lemonade. “Don’t worry about me so much, I’m perfectly content, alright?”

“Okay, okay.” He raises his hands in defense. “I won’t ever stop worrying about you, though, that’s the curse of being a parent. At least let me pay for a new dress for the party, hm?”

“You know your money’s no good. I’ll send you pictures, though.”

“Please do, you always look so pretty when you get all dressed up. Spitting image of Mama.” He smiles.

“Thanks, Papa.” She gives his hand a squeeze. “Maybe, um, when I feel like I can take a vacation we can go to France? We haven’t been in so long, and I think it would be good to see our cousins.”

“If you plan the whole thing, sure.” He shrugs. “I think it would be a blast.”

//

Ariel was feeling a little nervous for the staff party. Not only was the restaurant closed for the weekend, but her staff had never seen her in a dress before. She was second guessing everything. Her hair was down and wavy, and she had on this gorgeous navy blue, lace mini dress paired with white heels. When she walked down the hall to the elevators she heard someone suck their teeth. She turns to see it’s Harry.

“Oh, hi.” She blushes.

“Hi.” He looks her up and down. “You look nice.”

“Thank you, so do you.” She swallows and steps inside the elevator once the doors open. Harry steps inside as well, and presses the button for the floor they need to get to with the small ballroom. “Should be a fun night, huh?”

“I’m hoping so.”

“It’s usually a good time.”

“I remember coming with my parents when I was little, it was great. They let me drink all the Shirley Temples I could stomach.”

Harry chuckles slightly at that. In that moment she wasn’t sure if she had ever genuinely made him laugh before. They had hooked up a few more times since the night in his shower. It was always the same, hot and heavy, and then awkward when they were done.

“Wait until you see Garrett on the dancefloor after a few drinks, he can breakdance.”

“No shit, really? I’ll have to keep an eye out.” The elevator dings and they both get off and head towards the ballroom. They both could hear the music the DJ was playing. “Well, have a good time tonight.” Ariel makes her way over to some of the dining staff members that were closer to her age. She had become friendly with a few of them.

Harry migrates over to where his staff was, and buys them all a round of drinks. Ariel stayed nursing on the same vodka-tonic for a bit. She didn’t want to get trashed. She was talking with a couple of the hostesses, having a good time.

“Alright, ladies, I’ve had a couple of drinks, I’m gonna go talk to Harry.” Erica says to them. “My mistake last year was waiting until the end of the night to talk to him. I’m starting earlier this year.”

“And what’s the end goal here, exactly?” Ariel smirks.

“To see what his hotel room looks like, of course.” Erica winks and walks over to where Harry was. “Evening, Chef.” She smiles.

“Hi, uh…”

“Erica.”

“Erica! Right, I knew that. You still working behind the bar?”

“I hostess too.” She smiles.

“Good for you.”

“Are you having a good time?”

“I am.” He nods, and sips from his drink. His eyes flash to Ariel and then back to Erica. “Are you?”

“Yeah. Must be nice that you have the whole weekend off for a change.”

“It’s definitely a nice break.” He smiles, and looks at Ariel again. “Could you excuse me for a moment? I just remembered something I needed to tell Ariel, and I don’t wanna forget again.”

“Oh, um, sure.”

Harry walks away from Erica, and she pouts.

“Don’t take it personally.” Garrett says to her. “Personally, I think he has a thing for Ari, but I have very little proof.”

“Are you kidding? They can’t stand each other.”

“Maybe so.” Garrett shrugs.

Harry makes his way over to Ariel, and clears his throat to get her attention.

“Yes?” She asks, eyebrows raised.

“Come dance with me.”

“Very funny.” She scoffs.

“M’serious. I think it would be good if everyone saw us palling around. Show them the squabbles we have are purely work related.”

“Harry, I have a feeling I’d hate your guts no matter the setting.”

“Just humor me, will you?” He says, visibly annoyed.

“Fine.” She rolls her eyes, and finishes her drinks before following him to the dance floor. A slower song was playing, so she figured it wouldn’t kill her to dance with him.

Once they’re on the dancefloor, his hands go on her waist, and she puts her hands on his shoulders. They sway back and forth for a bit, and it just feels awkward…

“This is weird.” She giggles, and he can’t help but laugh too.

“Why is that the only things we’re good at doing with each other is fighting and fucking?” He smirks.

“Been wondering the same thing myself.” She smirks back at him. “Things would be so much easier if you didn’t question every little thing I wanted to do.”

“Someone’s gotta play Devil’s advocate.”

“You’re not the advocate, you’re the Devil himself.” She rolls her eyes, and it makes him laugh.

“I happen to be a very nice person, you just tend to bring out the worst in me.”

“I suppose a guy who named his cat Luna has to have a soft side.”

“Oi, leave her out of this.” He pouts at her. “You’ve warmed up to her.”

“She’s alright.” Ariel shrugs.

“Those are, uh, really beautiful earrings you’re wearing.” He blushes slightly.

“Oh! Thanks, they were my mother’s. She left me all her good stuff.”

“You must miss her a lot.”

“Yeah.” Ariel sighs. “But it’s nice having these little pieces of her.”

“You know, I’ve never asked, can you speak French fluently, like, are you bilingual?”

“Je ne sais pas, dites-moi.” I don't know, you tell me. She grins at him.

“Okay, I know you said I don’t know…something…me…” He narrows his eyes in thought.

“Dites is tell, it’s the past tense of ditre, which is say.”

“Ah, right, it’s been a while since I conjugated a French verb.” He chuckles. “Remind me, how do you say fuck in French?”

“Merde.”

“I thought that was shit.”

“It works for both.” Ariel shrugs. “There are a lot of variations and translations, like, if I wanted to say I want to fuck you, I’d say Je veux te baiser, but baiser translates to kiss.”

“French is so confusing.” Harry shakes his head. “But it sounds nice while you’re speaking it.” The song ends and she tries to step back from him, but he keeps his grip on her waist. He leans in to whisper in her ear, “Tu veux coucher avec moi ce soir?” Do you want to sleep with me tonight?

“You could have at least used the formal voulez-vous.” She sighs.

“Just answer the question.” He rolls his eyes.

“Oui.” She nods. “But I wanna do it in my room so I can hang my dress up. I don’t want it getting wrinkled.”

“Do you wanna head up now? Think I’m done hanging out with everyone else.”

“Yeah, let’s go. Uh…go ahead of me, I’ll meet you at the elevator.”

Harry nods and makes his way off the dancefloor. Ariel counts to ten Mississippi before making her way out. Harry was leaning up against the wall waiting for her. The elevator dings and they both head inside. Before she knows it, she’s being shoved against the wall, and Harry’s tongue is down her throat. She wraps her arms around his neck, and she groans when he presses himself against her hip. When the elevator dings on their floor, he steps back from her, and they both quickly walk to her room. The second she’s inside, she kicks her heels off, and jumps up for Harry. He carries her over to the bed, and they both fall onto it. They’re both being sloppy with their kisses, but neither cares. The need to be close is overpowering. She starts unbuttoning his shirt while his lips stay on hers. She imagines they’ll still be red and puffy by morning.

He flips them both over so he’s on his back, and she grinds herself against his growing erection. He grips her hips and helps her rock back and forth. She kisses on his neck, and sucks on the area just below his ear. His hands squeeze and knead her ass as a bruise starts to form where her lips are.

“Fuck, need you naked.” He grunts, sitting up to tug on the hem of her dress.

“Hold on, you’re gonna rip it! There’s a fucking zipper on the back.” She huffs.

In the next second, he’s shoving her down onto her stomach so he can undo the zipper of her dress. He pulls her up by the hips so she can free her arms, and then she’s being moved into her back so he can get it the rest of the way off.

“Take your underwear off.” He says as he undoes his pants.

“No.” She smirks at him.

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“You do it.”

“Ariel.” He says firmly. “Have you not learned how this works by now?” He moves to hover over her, kissing her slowly. “I talk, and you listen.” She shakes her head no, and his eyebrows raise.

“What makes you think you’re always in charge, hm? I let you do all of these things, you know?” Her smiles grows wider. She pecks his lips before speaking again. “Now, tell me you hate me and take my bra off.”

He sits back, and yanks her into his lap. He works to undo her bra, and tosses it across the room. He kisses on her chest, and sucks on the plushier areas before taking a nipple into his mouth. He pops off with a smirk.

“I don’t just hate you, Ariel, I absolutely loathe you.” He pushes her down onto her back and yanks her underwear off. He finishes taking his own clothes off, and he reaches for a condom, but she grabs his wrist. She shakes her head no. “You sure?” She nods her head yes, and he moves back over her.

He kisses on her neck while one of his hands roams down her body and between her legs. He slides two fingers inside her, and she moans softly. He pumps them in and out slowly before curling them up inside her, and rubbing his thumb on her clit. She grips at the comforter on the bed.

“Like that?” He says into her ear.

“Yes, fuck.” She bucks her hips up to grind against his fingers easier. He pulls them out and she whines.

“Would you relax, I was just gonna flip you over.”

“Oh.” She blushes and rolls onto her stomach. Harry yanks to her to her knees, and slides his fingers back in. Ariel sighs with relief.

“There we go.” He rubs his other hand up her back, and scratches back down before giving her ass a smack. He squeezes the supple flesh and leaves his hand there as he continues to work his fingers in and out of her.

“Oh, oh! Right there!” She gasps and starts rubbing her clit.

“M’I hitting it?” He grunts.

“Y-yeah, you’re right on it, don’t stop, please!”

She can hear him grunting and groaning behind her. He got so much pleasure making sure she got off, it astounded her. She cries out as she comes around his fingers, and he pulls them out slowly. He rubs her back as she catches her breath, and he sucks her slick off his fingers.

“Good?” He asks.

“Yeah, thanks.” She turns onto her side. “Wanna hit it from the side?” She wiggles her eyebrows at him, and he chuckles.

“Sure, if that’s how you want it.”

“It is…for now.”

He gets into position, and gets one of her legs over his shoulder. He pushes inside and watch as her mouth falls open. That was always his favorite part. She’d had him so many times at this point, and she still seemed so shocked at how he stretched her out. He rocks in and out of her slowly before really getting a groove going.

“H-Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you like, go behind me, like, we’re both on our sides? Do you know what I mean?”

He nods and pulls out of her so he can lay down behind her on his side. He lifts one of her legs a little so he can slide back inside of her. She hooks one of her arms around his head so she can get her fingers in his hair, and he kisses on her shoulder while his hand presses on her lower tummy. They were grinding against each other in the most perfect way. His fingers start to work her clit and she whines.

“Sensitive?” He asks her.

“Mhm.”

“Fight through it, know you can come again.”

“Need something to bite on.” She pants.

He gets his other arm around her neck so he can get his fingers in his mouth. She moans around them, and her eyes roll back.

“M’not gonna last, Ariel.” He rubs her clit harder, and she just moans louder around his fingers. “I’m gonna have to pull out soon.”

“No! Come inside me!” She shouts around his fingers.

“Fuck!” He cries out as he comes inside her. It pushes her over the edge, and she comes with him, milking him for everything he’s got. She kisses the palm of his hand before he pulls out of her.

“Could you, uh, bring me to the bathroom?” She asks, looking over her shoulder. “I don’t wanna sleep on sticky sheets.”

“Yeah.” He breathes, and scoops her up, bringing her into the bathroom. He sits her down on the toilet, and leaves to give her some privacy. When she comes out, he’s laying in his boxers on the bed.

“What are you doing?” She asks, going to her suitcase to look for her nightshirt.

“Figured we could fuck again in a bit, it’s not like we have to worry about getting up early, right?” He says, not looking up from his phone. “Or did I tucker you out.”

“No, um, we could…we could do it again in a little while.” She knees onto the bed and lays down. “I just need some time to cool down.”

“Yeah, no worries.”

“Harry?” She asks, turning on her side to face him.

“Hm?”

“Do you really loathe me?”

He looks up from his phone at that and turns on his side to face her.

“No…just sort of said it to keep us in the mood.”

“Do you think, like, we keep fighting as an excuse to fuck?”

“No, I mean, I genuinely can’t fucking stand you sometimes and doing this helps.”

“But what happens when one of us meets someone and we can’t just fuck it out?”

“Oh, please.” He scoffs. “Do you have time to meet someone else?”

“No, I’m just saying-“

“Besides that, who’s gonna fuck you better than me? Gimme a break, Ariel.” He laughs and rolls onto his back again, going back to his phone.

“Harry…eventually I’m going to want more than just fucking someone on the down low. I want certain things.”

“Yeah? So do I. You act like I’m going somewhere.”

“I’m…very confused right now.”

“Come here.” He pats his thighs and she shifts to straddle him. He tucks her hair behind her ears, and then pulls her down to kiss him. “You really think I’d like you run off to be with someone else? If that’s what you think, then you’re even crazier than I thought.”

“Harry, you don’t want me, stop messing around.”

“I’m being completely serious. I’ll get you the big house, the white picket fence, we’ll fill it with babies, and then they’ll have a romantic story to think about just like you did with your parents.” He kisses her again. “What’s cuter than mum and dad meeting in the kitchen at work, right? We can leave out the rest.”

“What makes you think that I…that I want any of that with you?” She was trembling.

“Because you wouldn’t have fucked me a second time if you didn’t like me, Ariel.”

“Harry, stop it, you’re gonna make me cry.” Her bottom lip quivers. “This isn’t funny.”

“I know it’s not, I’m not joking around.”

“But I don’t want us…I don’t want us to always be at each other’s throats. I don’t want that to be the only reason there’s a passion between us.”

He caresses her cheek and rub away a stray tear.

“It won’t be like that. I mean, I certainly know how to make you shut the fuck up, but I think we really have this weird connection. Things always get so awkward after we hook up because I think we’re both sort of soft people, and we don’t know if it’s okay to be soft with one another, but…I wanna be soft with you, I think. I want to sleep over, and cuddle, and all that other shit.” She blinks at him. “Do you want all of that…with me?” She nods yes at him. “Alright then, quit your blubbering and come here.” He tugs her down to him all the way so he can hold her properly. “Je t’aime.” He says softly as he strokes her hair.

“Je t’aime aussi.” I love you too.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Moe Moe Mallekei Kyun~

In which Malleus and Cater go to a maid café, and shenanigans ensue.

... I’ve been wanting to write this for a long time.

***Warning: mild spoilers for Malleus’s PE Uniform personal story!***

Imagine this...

“Lilia-sama.”

Two bodyguards fell into line, saluting simultaneously to their vice dorm leader.

“We just finished combing through the prime gargoyle locations around campus,” Silver reported. “Unfortunately, there was no sight of Malleus-sama to be found. The accounts of the various students we interviewed also corroborate that the Young Master has not recently been spotted in the area.”

“I see. Thank you, Silver.” Lilia sighed, cupping his cheek in one hand. “Hm, this is a bit odd. Wherever could he have wandered off to this time?”

At that moment, a ping! sounded off. Lilia fished his phone out of his pocket and, with one glance at the screen, his expression softened.

“You don’t suppose some dastardly villain has… kidnapped the Young Master and is holding him for ransom, do you?!” Sebek’s eyes nearly bulged out of his skull at the thought. “If that is the case… THEN WE HAVE FAILED AS MALLEUS-SAMA’S KNIGHTS!!”

“Now, now--let’s not jump to conclusions. Even if that were true, I’m certain that Malleus would be able to easily fend off assailants on his own. Perhaps he has simply lost his way, or headed off campus to run an errand.”

“... Without warning us in advance?”

“I would have happily accompanied the Young Master wherever he went--EVEN TO THE ENDS OF TWISTED WONDERLAND ITSELF!!”

“Kufufu. Malleus is still young at heart. Let us allow him this moment of independence, just this once. He will find his way home eventually.”

“Welcome home, my masters!!”

Malleus skidded to a stop in the doorway—for beyond it laid unknown territory. The interior sported cream walls, with fairy lights, streamers, and paper flowers strung up. A number of tables and chairs, populated with people, were set against flowing white curtains.

Young ladies flitted about, balancing trays of food and drinks, cameras, and microphones. Each wore the same outfit, consisting of a frilly headdress, an apron, and a black dress with lace trim and ribbons.

And now, one of those uniformed girls extended a hand to him and a warm, welcoming smile.

Malleus frowned and turned to the orange haired young man beside him. “... Diamond. What is this strange establishment you’ve brought me to?”

“Mm? It’s a maid café,” Cater chirped, glancing up from his phone. “You said you’ve never been before, right?”

“Well, yes… However, when you invited me to join you for an outing, I did not expect this to be our destination.”

“It’ll be fine~ We’re already here, so let’s get seated!” Cater insisted cheerily, ushering the fae through the door. 

“Right this way, my masters!” The greeter giggled and led the way, eventually stopping at a vacant table set for two. As the duo slipped into their seats, she handed them menus and moistened towels. “We have a wide selection of special services and delicious dishes for your enjoyment!”

Malleus hesitantly flipped open the (very pink) menu and ran his eyes down the page of available items. Along with the expected offerings of desserts, savory foods, and beverages were odd listings: massage, ear cleaning, karaoke, game, arts and crafts, picture, spoon feeding, live song and dance...

He stared quizzically at Cater, who seemed to be taking everything in stride.

“I’ll take a plate of omurice! How about you, Malleus-kun?”

He stared back at his menu, trying to make rhyme or reason of the unique names. What in the Great Seven was a Pyon ❤ Pyon Sunshine Bar…? Or a Lucky☆Happy☆Cookie? Malleus’s brows furrowed in both concentration and confusion.

“I… I shall have the local specialty, whatever that may be,” the fae prince declared at last.

“Excellent choices! And would you like a bunny, or a kitty?”

“You hand out animals at this eating establishment? Is that not a health code violation?”

“Aaah, Malleus-kun, she doesn’t mean real rabbits and cats. Look--you’ll see when she brings them, okay?” Cater laughed awkwardly. Then, turning to the waitress, he held up his index finger. “One of each, little lady~”

“Of course!” She scribbled down a few words on her heart shaped notepad before prancing off.

“... Diamond. Are you certain this is the fabled maid café of which you spoke of?” Malleus asked, folding his arms. “I find it difficult to believe that every patron here is descended from a high class lineage. Furthermore, the servers are wearing attire entirely unlike that of a traditional household servant.”

Cater blinked once, twice—then chuckled.

“Maid cafés are like normal cafés. Anyone can go to them to play pretend and chill for a while! The difference is that the waitresses are dressed cutely and offer fun services. Singing, dancing, playing games—that kinda thing!”

“I do not understand.” Malleus swept a hand at their surroundings. “The purpose of this establishment is merely for… amusement?”

“Yup! People get tired of the daily grind sometimes, so they go to places like this to see cute stuff and just take a load off.”

“I… I see.” Malleus tucked his thumb and forefinger under his chin. “We do not have anything like your maid cafes in the Valley of Thorns.”

“You don’t? What sort of things do you do back home for fun, then?”

“I was not allowed to venture far from the palace grounds. Most of my time was spent indoors, studying spells or honing my magical abilities.”

Cater inclined his head. “Oooh, right! Because you’re a prince and all, you weren’t able to do much—but hey! Things are different now! You’ve got Cay-kun to show you a good time!”

“Ah, yes. A ‘good time’...” Malleus attempted at a smile, which came out more wary than he had intended.

“Thank you for waiting!” a girlish voice chirped—their waitress had returned, wearing a tray of food in one hand and two headbands in the other. “Here is your omurice and Nyan ✨ Nyan ✨ Kitty-chan Parfait, plus one pair of kitty ears and one pair of bunny ears!”

She handed Cater his dish—a bed of ketchup flavored fried rice, sealed by a wobbling omelet and garnished with a sprig of parsley.

“Mm! Smells delicious. Thanks a bunch~” Cater grinned, winking at his server.

The maid giggled and placed Malleus’s dessert before him, along with the headbands.

“Would you like me to draw or write something special for you on your meal, master?” she asked, gesturing to Cater’s omurice.

“Sure thing! Could you write ‘Mallekei’? Oh, and a couple of hearts would be cute, too!”

“As you wish!”

As the maid set to work, Malleus marveled at the sight of his parfait.

Colorful scoops of ice-cream, granola, and sliced fruits were layered inside of a tall glass cup. A generous crown of whipped cream and a drizzle of strawberry sauce topped it off. Sticking out from the whipped cream were two wafer triangles and dots of chocolate candies, forming a cat-like face.

How adorable.

… But not adorable enough to be spared.

“Thank you for the food.” The fae raised his spoon to demolish the poor parfait kitten—

“Stop, stop, Malleus-kun!!” Cater cried, frantically waving his arms. “N-Not yet!!”

Malleus lowered his spoon with a frown. “Food is meant to be consumed, Diamond. Is there an issue you have with my table etiquette?”

“Well—no, but…” Cater played with a lock of his orange hair and sighed. “There’s certain rituals we need to do first!”

“Rituals? Oh, my apologies. I was not aware. Please proceed with your regularly scheduled… rituals.”

“Ahaha, you’re a quick learner! First thing’s first, let’s put on our headbands!” Cater swept up the cat ears and passed them over. “Here, to match your parfait! I’ll take the rabbit.”

Malleus gingerly nestled the cat ears on his head, copying Cater’s movements. It was a bit tricky maneuvering around his horns, but somehow, he managed.

“Oh!! Those ears suit you so well!” the waitress said, glancing up from decorating the omurice. Carefully placed splotches of ketchup spelled out ‘Mallekei’, hearts and little sparkles littering the space around the boys’ combined names.

“... Do they?” Malleus doubted it.

“They do!!” Cater reassured him with a laugh. “Ne, ne, miss! Can you take our picture so my friend here can have a souvenir to take home with him?” 

“Certainly!” She replaced the bottle of ketchup and hurried off, returning shortly after with a polaroid camera. “Are you ready, my masters?”

“Ready, Malleus-kun?”

“Hmph. Of course. I will have you know that my posing abilities have improved considerably since our last encounter. Do not underestimate me.”

“Oh, that’s great! You’ve been practicing! Then… on the count of three, we nyah, okay?”

“... What is ‘nyah’?” Malleus inquired, his confidence suddenly waning.

“Eh?” A blip of surprise crossed Cater’s face. “Like, y’know… nyah!”

The influencer curled both of his hands into balls and made a pawing motion at his friend. “Now you try!”

“Like this?” Malleus mimicked him. He was more stiff—definitely not as practiced—but the general motion was still recognizable.

“Very good, master!!” the waitress gushed, raising the polaroid up. “On three?”

“1, 2, 3… Nyah!”

A flash went off, sending stars into Malleus’s vision. As he rubbed the daze out of his eyes, Cater’s voice called out to him.

“Are you okay there?”

“I am well. There is no need for your concern,” the fae insisted. “This ritual… it is more confounding that I took it to be.”

“Eeeh? It’s not meant to be hard or anything. Just relax, relax!” Cater paused before adding, “It’s part of the ritual’s requirements! You need to be nice and loose for the last step!”

“What is this last step?”

“We need to cast a magic spell to make your food taste extra tasty!” the waitress declared cheerily.

“Hoh?” A smirk found its way onto Malleus’s face. “That can easily be arranged. Allow me to do the honors.”

He put his hand before his parfait, an eerie green glow emulating from his palm. The sinister light engulfed his dish and Cater’s, sending them floating midair. Radioactive ice-cream and omurice hovered above their heads, causing both Cater and their maid to recoil in shock.

Other customers stared at the spectacle from their own tables. One man’s jaw dropped, the forkful of spaghetti bolognese in his mouth clattering onto the floor.

“You, who provides sustenance to the masses, become that which is delici—“

“H-Hold on a sec, Malleus-kun!!” Cater practically leapt over the table to seize his friend’s glowing hand. “Not that kind of spell!!”

Eyes wide with surprise, Malleus allowed his magic to settle down. The parfait and omurice gently floated back onto their table, and the maid sighed with relief.

“Is there a different spell needed for this occasion? I assure you that I am well-versed in practical magic—you need only speak its name, and I can conjure the proper…”

“No, no! It’s—“ Cater casted a look at their server and nervously chuckled. “Ne, Maid-chan~ Think you can give us a demonstration of the right spell?”

“Yes, master!” the girl, ever professional, flashed a perky grin. “Please watch carefully!!”

The maid set down her polaroid on the table. She then arched her fingers into C-like shapes, thumb extended straight. Pushing her hands together, she formed a heart and aimed it in the direction of the boy’s dishes.

“Moe moe kyuuuuuun!”

“What an odd spell. In all my years, I have never heard of such an enchantment…”

“Well, there’s a first for everything, right?” Cater flicked one of his floppy rabbit ears. “Plus, it should be no problem for the great Malleus-sama to pull off this spell, right?”

“This is child’s play,” Malleus’s laugh was like the earth itself rumbling. His lips quirked into a small smile. “You will join me in performing this sacred ritual, will you not, Diamond?”

“Of course~”

“Very well.”

They made hearts and thrust them upon their meals. And together, they uttered those three magic words.

“Moe moe kyuuuuun!!”

“Welcome back, Malleus,” Lilia greeted. The vice dorm leader nonchalantly hung from the ceiling, his raven and magenta bangs suspended midair. “Did you have fun on your outing?”

“Lilia. You knew?” Malleus slowly shut the door behind him, chasing away the cool air of the night. He spoke softly, knowing that sounds carried in the dusty hallways of Diasomnia and could disturb its residents.

“The wonders of modern technology,” Lilia trilled, expertly landing beside his young master. He brandished his phone in a gloved hand, a text message displayed on the screen.

hey hey lilia-chan! gonna steal malmal-kun for the day~ he’ll be back later, but do me a solid and keep it a secret from s&s til then, ‘kay? thnx!! (✿˶˘ ³˘)~♡

“It looks as though I have been exposed.”

“There is no shame in making new friends. In fact, I’m proud of you for expanding your horizons.” Lilia beamed. “Though what a shame it is that I was not present to grab a few pictures. Hopefully Cater fulfilled that task for me.”

The ancient fae tilted forward in his toes and peered up at his prince. “Soooo? Where did you sneak off to?”

“Fufu. Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“My. Is that any way to treat the man that kept Silver and Sebek from hunting you down?” Lilia teased, wagging a finger.

“Such loyalty,” Malleus smirked, hands on his hips, “deserves to be rewarded.”

He produced a polaroid photograph from his breast pocket and presented it with a flourish. The image, forever captured in time, was that of Malleus and Cater—the former with cat ears, the latter with bunny ears—with hands balled to resemble paws. Cater cheekily winked, while Malleus looked slightly bewildered.

The edges of the polaroid were dotted with stickers—smiley faces, flowers, and hearts. Marker had been used to scrawl on whiskers and blushes over both boys’ cheeks.

Overall, cutesy—overwhelming so.

But the Malleus and Cater in the picture were happy.

Their eyes shining like jewels.

Nyah-ing their hearts out.

[hawksugarbaby]

Shinso x reader - Burning sensation

Fluff

Every morning at 7:00 you would meet shinso outside your dorm to head to school "Hey Hitoshi how ya doin this mornin" you asked sideling up to the boy who you had gotten to know quite well through your walks too and from school, and your time in class, and lunch, and training after school, you were never really away from each other actually. He took comfort in the time you spent together and you enjoyed talking to him and being his friend. It was pretty understandable why he didn't want to be friends, to begin with, but there was no way in hell you were letting the boy go through 3 years of school without any friends! So you made it your own personal mission to change his mind about you, and you were pretty chuffed when he actually stopped pushing you away yep this boat was firmly tied to the dock now. "I'm fine just tired" he was always tired.

The gleaming white windows of your school came into view lighting up the area around it like a child shining a magnifying glass on a bunch of tiny ants swarming to their colony. You nudged his side with your elbow getting his attention "SO I heard someone is getting transferred into the hero course next year!" you were so proud of him! This was his dream come true and he was finally getting his big opportunity "yeah it's pretty crazy" it was true he was more than thrilled to be joining the hero course but he felt like he was betraying you in some way, you should be in there with him! You were just as powerful if not more than he was. It didn't feel right leaving you "I can't believe it Hitoshi! I'm so happy for you, we should go get ice cream later to celebrate!" you walked through the door together weaving through the other people dotted around the corridor to reach your own classroom tucked away at the end . the thought hadn't even crossed your mind about how lonely you would be without Hitoshi, and it was coming up for the end of the year, you would have to cherish your time more than ever. "Ice cream sounds nice."

Th day went on rather uneventfully, thankfully it was lunch now so food was on the top of your mind "what should I get today?" you asked your lavender friend, you were determined to have everything on the menu at least once before you left school, you had quite a few options to go "what about a cappuccino and the udon?" it was pretty lucky he was keeping track of what you had and hadn't got yet otherwise you would never get close to finishing the challenge "you just want my cappuccino huh" you stepped up to the counter and ordered your food and drink which was ready in a flash thanks to lunch rush (give the dude some credit he does lunch for that entire school every day!) "maybe" he gave a lopsided grin and you rolled your eyes.

you both set off for a table near the back where you usually sat when a green-haired boy waving his arm caught your eye "hey Hitoshi is that one of your new classmates" you questioned gesturing to the freckled boy who was frantically trying to get his attention "oh yeah that's midoriya" he brushed off the topic and continued off to your table "hey wait you should go sit with them!" you called after the boy who groaned and span round his purple locks dangled in front of his eyes blocking his view fully but he could tell you weren't gonna let him leave. "but... why?" "because they're your classmates silly come on" you pulled him over to the table much to his dismay "h-hey shinso do you want to sit with us?" midoriya asked and everyone else at the table eyed him up like a flock of vultures inspecting there pray "can (y/n) sit too?" wait no what you weren't in that class why would you sit there? That was like... the top dog table right? "Of course!" oh well oh kay then guess you were one with the big leagues now. "Hi it's nice to meet you, I'm ururaka" she introduced herself with a big grin, you noticed she was holding her juice with 4 fingers and had pink pads in the middle of her fingertips "I'm (l/n) nice to meet you too" you sat down next to Hitoshi excited to make some new friends, maybe if you liked them he would like them more.

"So you and shinso are really good friends huh?" you nodded as you took a sip of your cappuccino and ultimately decided it was one of the less amazing things on the menu "yeah he's like my best friend and I'm pretty much his emotional support dog" you giggled and handed off the warm, bitter drink to him which he was more than happy to take off your hands "in all honesty she should be the one joining your class, daughter of the number 2 hero couldn't cut the hero programme" he teased and everyone else gasped "YOUR DAD IS HAWKS!" yep it was true you were the daughter of the number 2 hero hawks and someone else?? Mum didn't stick around long, your quirk was a little HOT TO HANDLE (roll with it) "what's your quirk! Can you show us!" midoriya begged from across the table which Hitoshi was not happy about he didn't like it when people gave you more attention than he did "um no I definitely cannot show you! But I can tell you what it iss" you sang and the boy grabbed a pencil and notepad out his bag "uh it's called Pheonix I have retractable wings... made of blue fire... and I can fly and shoot the feathers and I have the feather blades like dad and all that jazz" "she also has the same dumb personality" Hitoshi added and you gasped looking at him hurt "don't talk about my dad like that he loves you" he did actually like Hitoshi a surprising amount and you were pretty convinced he shipped you like a 15-year-old girl watching 2 boys in an anime about superheroes (-_-)

"But if your dad is the number 2 hero how come you aren't in the hero course" ouch. You gripped your chopsticks harshly "some bitch thought it would be funny to knock me out during the entrance exam and it was too late to get me in by recommendation" the chopsticks snapped splintering off into a bunch of smaller pieces. The lively nature of the cafe suddenly turned to one of concern when 2 mini puffs of thick smoke filtered out from the back of your blazer blanketing the roof and the smell of burning fabric infiltrated your noses "your burning" Hitoshi said from beside you "OH sorry sorry I didn't notice" you said and started to calm yourself down by stealing Hitoshi's lemonade "you must be upset about having to be in different classes after the new year" the boy with the bird head said. Well yeah but he wouldn't be leaving you completely, you opened your mouth to speak but before you could start Hitoshi started "I don't intend on letting her go half a year alone in that class, either she moves up or I go back down" he grit his teeth at the thought of you being alone in that class by yourself, and if it meant he had to give up his dream of being in the hero course he would. You smiled and then sighed when you realised you couldn't finish your udon since your chopsticks had transformed into toothpicks.

Ah yes, finally the end of the day. You and Hitoshi walked out of the nicely air-conditioned school into the dry blistering heat of the outside world "oh god whyyy" you cried and shook your fist at the sun then immediately regretted it as a bunch of white spots danced around in your eyes (FUN FACT THOSE ARE CALLED PHOSPHENES. Y'know, like phosphor) "so ice cream" you stumbled around trying to your friends and jumped when he put his hands on the back of your shoulders "just keep walking dummy" he said and you did so until you gained your sight back. "It's such a hot day this is evil" you crossed your arms angrily as you made your way to your house since you had decided to get changed before you got ice cream so that the sweltering heat didn't melt you both to a puddle of sweat and ew (THAT'S WHAT I'M GOING WITH OKAY).

"HEY DAD ARE YOU HOME?" you shouted into the house and a little red feather shot down to where you were standing "I'LL TAKE THAT AS A YES THEN" you and shinso wandered up to your room dumping your bags with an audible thud "crop top and jeans?" you asked holding up your clothes and showing them off to Hitoshi "sure why not," he said and pulled out the bag of clothes in the bottom of your wardrobe that you kept there for him. "Vest and shorts?" he held up the clothes and you nodded and he descended down the hall to the bathroom waving to your dad as he went past. It was such a perfect day, it was too good to be overthinking little things like clothes or how lonely you would be without Hitoshi or what he meant when he said when he wasn't leaving you behind or how he really felt about you or- "how's my chicklet?" (hawk's most defining personality trait is that he likes chicken don't @me) your dad asked ruffling your hair "it is too hot to exist right now but Hitoshi and I are gonna get ice cream" you grinned and cracked open your window hoping a breeze would come through and cool you down a smidge. "Like a date?" "No dad it's not a date" "finneee have fun" he pouted and left you alone to get changed.

"Hey, Hitoshi what ice cream do you want?" you asked looking over the menu on the side of the truck that was parked in the park... "it's a vanilla day I think," you stepped up to the counter ordering your ice creams both with a flake obviously and sat on a cool metal bench which was hidden by the big weeping willow tree, it was your favourite spot in the whole park because it was always shady and the big tree made you feel like little kids again, you were so small in comparison and when the wind picked up the branches whipped around like a carousel and tangled together like a curtain to hide behind.

"hey you'll be okay in the class by yourself for a while right?" he asked and took a pit off his ice cream "I'll have to be won't I. I'm really proud of you you know that" you stole the flake that he was about to bite into and took a bite out of it letting the chocolate bit's fall off and land on your crop top melting almost instantly "I know. But I promise I'm gonna get you up there with me. You won the sports festival I don't know why they're taking me" (ROLL WITH IT) he stole your flake in retaliation and started eating his ice cream "because you deserve it stop doubting yourself" you preached. You listened to the cars drive by and the angry drivers honking at each other, in all fairness there were indicators for a reason. The bustling life of the city drowned out by the calm bubble surrounding the 2 of you "well you deserve it too (y/n)" he argued and you both burst into a fit of laughter knowing that it was almost impossible to be mad at each other and this wasn't even close to a reason.

"Hey I need to tell you something" he whispered taking a bite out of the sugary cone "oooh~ are you going to profess your undying love for me" you giggled not knowing what you were getting into in the next few minutes "yes... I am" ".....WHAT!" WELL, THIS TOOK A TURN "I like you. Like in a girlfriend type of way" he sighed when a big flake of his cone cracked and fell into the dirt under him "oh. This is unexpected" you whispered taking a bite out of your own cone getting crumbs down your top "if you don't feel the same it's okay I just wanted you to know" he pursed his lips and drew little circles in the dry dirt "no I do, I do feel the same I guess I just didn't realise I felt the same... does that make sense?" it probably didn't.

Of course, you felt the same, he had been your best friend for a while now so obviously you caught some feelings but you had never given them a title like, a crush or love or anything like that, they were just there. They would either go away or they wouldn't and now you were here. You were glad they hadn't "yeah it does" he smiled and the wind picked up a bit lacing the branches together to create th perfect veil as he leaned down and kissed you softly, it was nice and filled with love and admiration and your face turned soft pink and matched the heat of the sun beating down right now.

It didn't last long unfortunately as 2 pillars of smoke started coming out of your shirt and burning fabric once again took over your senses "NO NO NO NOT NOW COME ON" you shouted feeling the fabric separating on your back and you held the front of your crop top on your front "okay well we're gonna not do that for now" Hitoshi said calmy and you shot him a panicked glance gesturing to your unfortunate situation with your other hand. The back of your top fell off and you arched your back when it came into contact with the cold rugged bark of the willow tree "OKAY WELL NOT WALKING HOME LIKE THAT" he shouted and took off his vest throwing it to you and turning away.

You put it on quickly after you calmed down a bit and you weren't burning anything. "Okay you can turn around," you instructed focusing only on the branches in front of you "what not gonna look at me?" "nope" "why not?" you cleared your throat and clicked your tongue "because if I do this shirt will just burn off too and then we'll have to phone dad and get him to bring me a shirt and then he'll ask how I managed to burn two of my shirts off and then I have to listen to him go on and on like a 15-year-old girl about how he totally called that we would get together and then-" "alright I get it," he said putting his hand over your mouth 'well you just set yourself up for failure' you thought and licked his hand which he pulled back and wiped on your jeans "your gross" he chuckled and stood up wiping the dirt off his jeans and standing directly in your eye line putting his hand out to help you up. Which you didn't accept since you were rather busy ogling those goddamn washboard abs "well your not burning yet but you might be brain dead" he flicked your forehead and you shook your head slightly accepting his help up.

You started to walk home as the bright blue sky turned to a medley of tangerine and lavenders with pink brush strokes in between. "We should get ice cream more often," he said his honeyed voice cutting the silence held between you "I agree, we train so much we deserve it!" you exclaimed "you just wanna see me shirtless" he teased. It took every ounce of willpower you had to not burn the shirt off by accident but thankfully you didn't "pfft no. I want ice cream the shirtless thing doesn't have to be exclusively an ice cream thing" you pointed out nudging his shoulder with yours as your house got closer and he rolled his eyes wrapping his arm around your waist pulling you next to him like 2 magnets sticking to each other.

"Well I'll see you tomorrow Hitoshi," you said once you reached your door "yeah see you tomorrow," he said pecking your cheek and walking off down the road leaving you astonished at your door. "DAD YOUR NOT GONNA BELIEVE THIS" you screamed as you entered the house.

4 weeks later

"We have another student joining the hero course" the grumpy teacher announced and you bust into the 1-A classroom with your wings outstretched behind you "PUT THE GREMLIN BACK" shinso shouted from the back of the classroom "GO BACK UNDER THE BRIDGE YOU CAME FROM" you shouted back and took your seat next to him "dad wants to know if you're staying for dinner after training" you whispered, "yeah what are we having?" "chicken" 

[chaoticdean]

(click on the banner for HQ, Tumblr somehow keeps fucking it up)

31 days and close to 39k words written later, here’s my Suptober20 master post! I can hardly believe that I managed to write everyday for a month, and I once again want to thank all of you for tagging along and being the nicest cheerleaders in the whole damn world. 💜

A special thank you to @winchester-reload​ for hosting this massive challenge and being the nicest gal around ✨

LINK TO THE SERIE ON AO3 | LINK TO MY TUMBLR TAGGED POSTS

(individual posts under the cut because this is a very long fucking post)

#1 — On the road again

The thrilling quest of gouda cheese — wc ~ 900 — Castiel is in charge of grocery shopping today, which could be a great thing if Dean could stop making him run back to the store multiple time. When his boyfriend decides they’re suddenly in urgent need of a special cheese, Castiel in turn decides he’s had enough.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#2 — Earth

A plastic and cardboard affair — wc ~ 1.2k —  In which Castiel suddenly becomes hyperaware of the looming environmental catastrophe ahead and decides to start changing things in the bunker, and Dean... Well, Dean is sleepy, AND HE JUST WANTS TO CUDDLE.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#3 — Demonic

Demonic skills — wc ~ 1.4k — Before Cas, Dean could always count on his abilities in bed to get him out of conversations he didn’t want to have. Now, though, not so much. (also known as “post-coital pillow talk with Cas”).

AO3 | Tumblr post

#4 — Branded

Etched into my bones — wc ~ 500 — Against all the odds, Dean is the one who suggests it. He claims it’s just a mean to an end, but Cas knows better. After all, he’s the one who gets to witness the man behind the hard shell he shows to the world every single day, and he’s grown to love the soft side of Dean Winchester. 

(Darkest Roads!verse)

AO3 | Tumblr post

#5 — Daydream

Dr. McHandsy and the curious case of the white lab coat — wc ~ 1.5k  — They’re on a case and undercover, and that’s reason #1 why Dean shouldn’t be sitting here drooling over his partner. But really, who thought putting Castiel in a doctor outfit would be a brilliant idea?! 

He’s gonna kill Sam.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#6 — Mask

A study in scotch and pampering — wc ~ 1.3k — If anyone had told Dean Winchester years from now that he’d be content letting his husband paint his face with foreign matter (not that kind of foreign matter, you kinky bastards) that smells like coconut and feels like whipped cream, he would’ve had the biggest laugh out of it. Nowadays, though, if that’s what it takes to get Cas to talk, he’ll do it in a heartbeat.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#7 — Domestic

The shirt in the dispute (and other laundry feuds) — wc ~ 2.1k — It all starts off with a sordid affair of mixed laundry, and somehow it’s World War III in the Men of Letter’s bunker (or the one where Castiel messes a batch of laundry up, and Dean’s Led Zeppelin shirt bites the dust)

AO3 | Tumblr post

#8 — Heartless

Ohio and the open secret — wc ~ 1.5k — Dean desperately tried to get Sam to pass on this case, hoping to finally get some alone time with his boyfriend for the first time in a while, but his giant moose of a brother decided to tag along anyway. Now they’re stuck in the same bedroom in Ohio, and Castiel is about to lose it, so Dean takes the matter into his own hands.

(it doesn’t go as planned)

AO3 | Tumblr post

#9 — Electric

Ocean waves — wc ~ 1.2k — It’s been 5 years now, and somehow they figured out their shit. A house on a the shore, a ring on their fingers, and despite everything Dean still wakes up to find Cas wrapped up in a panic attack on random nights, doubts and anxiety eating him alive. But they aren’t alone in the panic anymore.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#10 — Sweet Rides

Home is wherever I’m with you — wc ~ 600 — Until a few years ago, Dean didn’t have any home. He grew up in shitty motel rooms and inside the Impala, on the road and in-between schools. As he finally allow himself to fall into Castiel’s arms, he reflects on all the places he can call home, now.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#11 — Rock & Roll

Sharp Edges — wc ~ 1.6k — Castiel told him he loved him right before getting swallowed up by the Empty. Sam asked him to talk to someone, anyone really,, but words won’t come out, and how is he supposed to tell anyone how it feels to lose everything? So he writes. Letters on napkins, motel notepads, paperback books. He writes as he goes through every steps of grief, until finally there’s a light at the end of the tunnel.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#12 — Rewind

Leading me, going home — wc ~ 900 — Dean and Castiel reflects on their past and what they would say to their past self if they had the opportunity to rewind. (also known as “Castiel uses too many Harry Potter quotes, which gets Dean to prevent him from ever binging the movies again”)

AO3 | Tumblr post

#13 — Ladies

The promise in the cocktails — wc ~ 800 — When a joke involving colorful cocktails designed to put his brother into misery turns into a promise for more steamy nights with Cas, Dean thinks he might have won the lottery (and God bless strawberry daiquiris).

AO3 | Tumblr post

#14 — Fun & Games

A fever and the whipped boyfriend — wc ~ 1k — Being in love with a being as old as the Earth is all fun and games until said ex-angel gets sick for the first time of his entire (overwhelmingly long) life and turns into an actual, honest to god, gigantic baby. Lucky for Cas, Dean turns into perfect boyfriend mode. 

AO3 | Tumblr post

#15 — Third Eye

The blonde-haired witch and the little push — wc ~ 2.8k — It’s not the first time Dean’s ever had to listen to someone referring to Castiel as “his boyfriend”, but it sure as hell is the first time he has to sit through a diner listening to a witch referring to Cas as his husband without even batting an eyelash, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

Which would be fine if it didn’t cause actual shivers to run down his spine.

(or the one where a friendly witch gives Dean the little push he needs)

AO3 | Tumblr post

#16 — Switch it up!

The spices in the suit — wc ~ 1.7k — Dean doesn’t know when he started taking advices from Sam when it comes to his love life, but after tonight he thinks he might be more mindful of Sam’s wiseness in the future. Especially if it gets him all the way to the backseat of the Impala with a former angel in his lap.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#17 — Autumn invading

Storms never come to stay — wc ~ 1.6k — Dean finds Cas in the wood behind their house, hours after they had a fight. They’ve been together for a long time now, yet fears still run deep. 

(Darkest Roads!verse)

AO3 | Tumblr post

#18 — Dark & Stormy Night

The wayward gang and the questionable cocktail — wc ~ 1.9k — Castiel comes back to the bunker after a day on the road to find the wayward gang scattered over the map table for what appears to be a cocktail night. Sam wanted piña colada, but Dean Winchester bartender extraordinaire decided to go for something darker and stormier...

AO3 | Tumblr post

#19 — Pour one out

As days fade (and night grows) — wc ~ 1.9k — Castiel wakes up alone and cold, and decides that he’s had enough of Dean shutting him out. They’ve lost Jack, but it doesn’t mean they have to lose themselves too. 

AO3 | Tumblr post

#20 — Home

The fire in my bones — wc ~ 1.1k — It’s not a secret that Dean Winchester isn’t particularly good with words, but when he fucks up and unintentionally hurts Cas, he knows he has to do better.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#21 — Fear

If I let you go, would you hold on? — wc ~ 1.6k — Castiel gets hurt on a hunt trying to protect Dean, and Dean is tired of having to wake up everyday not knowing if they’ll both be alive the next morning or if one of them is going to sacrifice himself to save the other. Finally, he makes a choice that will set he course of their future together.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#22 — “I cursed the gloom that set upon us, but I know that I love you so...”

Just a little rain — wc ~ 800 — Leave it to Led Zeppelin and Dean’s slow dancing skills to soothe the pain of letting your kid leave to tour the world.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#23 — Favorite

You feel like the sun on my face — wc ~ 700 — Dean awakes to Castiel sliding into bed after he just came back from a hunt, and somehow it’s kind of the best feeling in the world.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#24 — Family business

Wherever we are is where I wanna be — wc ~ 1.4k — It took them a few months, but once Dean and Castiel decide to move across the country and into a home of their own, everything falls into places. 

AO3 | Tumblr post

#25 — Villain

The blue tie in the bathtub — wc ~ 1.2k — Dean has been a pain in the ass all day, so Castiel decides to drag him into the bathtub and tie his hand up the shower rail before teaching him a lesson.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#26 — Walk of shame

And I would walk 500 miles — wc ~ 1.3k — The one where they think they’re being subtle, but they’re actually being really loud (and Sam happens to have functioning eyes, too.)

AO3 | Tumblr post

#27 — Banquet

Drunk on love — wc ~ 800 — Dean’s analogies are usually spot on, but maybe he’s had a bit too much whisky to be clever tonight (or maybe the fact that Castiel’s mouth is currently glued to his throat is preventing him to think clearly, who knows?)

AO3 | Tumblr post

#28 — Hellscape

Adventures in Christmas shopping — wc ~ 500 — Castiel wants to go Christmas shopping, and Dean being a very whipped thoughtful boyfriend decides to tag along. It doesn’t go well.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#29 — Fragile

Anytime you reach for me — wc ~ 700 — A look into what sex used to mean to Dean before Cas, and how his world has been turned upside down ever since he got in bed with a former angel of the lord.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#30 — Dress-up

Entertainment in soapy water — wc ~ 800 — Castiel just went down the garage to see what Dean is up to, but when he catches a flash of red right above the waistband of Dean’s shorts, it seems like his boyfriend might have dressed up just for him to see.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#31 — Carry On

Scar tissue — wc ~ 1.6k — There are arguably a few things that Dean dislikes more than anything else in the world, but nothing compares to what it feels like to wake up in an empty bed in the middle of the night, and the insane bolt of fear laced with anxiety than runs through Dean’s chest when he realizes he’s got no idea where Castiel is.

AO3 | Tumblr post

[stab-the-son-of-a]

Whumptober No.1 - Barbed Wire

TW: Character death, choking, blood

Gladys doesn’t get paid nearly enough for what she deals with. Sometimes, the joy of helping a burgeoning new enthusiast wet their feet outweighs the irritation and frustrations. Other times it’s exactly the new whumpers that irritate her so much.

Idly drawing stylized S’s on her notepad, she listens to the woman on the other end list out the symptoms. At the start, Gladys had written her client’s name down but now, going on an hour later, she finds she can’t read her scribbled writing.

“So the symptoms you’re describing,” Gladys interrupts the woman, because waiting for an opening hasn’t worked for the past half an hour. “They’re a spot on match for lockjaw. Fever, muscle spasms, the whole breathing and swallowing thing.”

“Um, nooo,” the woman draws out her words in the most annoyingly condescending tone possible. Quite the feat considering she’s dead wrong, Gladys thinks. “Tetanus went away with the vaccines. Like polio.”

She absolutely does not get paid enough for this. In a display of superhuman self restraint, Gladys holds back from telling her just how ridiculous she sounds. She deadpans, “I’m sorry ma’am, herd immunity doesn’t protect from toxins.”

“Whatever! What do I do? How do I fix this?”

“There’s really no fix for tetanus—”

“Um, yes, there is! It’s like antibiotics, or medicine or an antiviral or something.”

A lack of proper planning and knowledge on the clients’ part nearly always necessitates in an emergency for the agents, and she's well accustomed to the golden rule of never underestimating how damn stupid people can be, but Gladys is also pretty sure that sharp throbbing pain behind her eye is her IQ draining away.

In the distance, she hears the poor whumpee groan, the sound tight and agonized. You and me both, pal, she thinks as she stares down at the now full page. With a sigh she rips it off and starts a fresh one.

“Are you going to fix it or not?” Karen — she’s going to call her Karen because it’s perfectly apropos — demands. “I’m not done with him yet!”

“No, I’m thinking you’re done with him.” As Gladys awaits Karen’s indignant squawking, she switches to drawing cubes rotated at various angles. “He’s done for, ma’am.”

On cue comes the tirade. How Gladys can’t possibly know this just from a list of symptoms and a short discussion and a picture. How Gladys isn’t a doctor (never claimed as such) and thus not qualified to give a diagnosis.

Honestly anyone with half a brain can see what happened. Karen dressed up her ex-lover in shibari made from barbed wire, and she didn’t even check if he was up to date on his shots. That’s on her.

That said, the picture sent to Gladys is just delicious, so she almost can’t blame Karen for this. The man in the photograph, stripped down to his jeans, kneels with his arms bent behind his back just so- elbows forced together by the wiring, hands and wrists cinched against his waist. The result pushes his chest out, opening it to expose the bloodied stripes and blooming bruises from previous sessions with a whip. (Gladys wouldn’t be surprised if Karen used one made of barbed wire.) The bindings continue down his hips and legs, the angle forcing them apart and curving his spine backwards due to the short length tying his wrists to his ankles and both to his neck.

But what really catches the eye is the blood. It wells up from countless small puncture wounds, trails and rivers flowing down, collecting in hollows and marking the trails and contours and planes of his body.

“Are you even listening to me?” Karen interrupts Gladys’s appreciation with an indignant shriek. Like a newborn needing attention, she raises her voice, and Gladys hastily pulls the receiver away from her ear before she can deafen her. “I called looking for help and you’ve done everything but help!”

She knows how she’s meant to react, technically, by the rule book, and all that PR, customer is always right, bullshit. Instead, Gladys says coolly, “Are you ready to listen to me?”

“I’m ready for someone to help me.”

“You see, ma’am, in my professional opinion, you’ve fucked this up beyond repair.”

Karen goes absolutely silent, but her whumpee whines and whimpers, the sounds all breathless and shallow, weak and raspy. Yeah, no, that man is dead or on his way there.

Emboldened by the success of getting a word in, Gladys continues, “Yep. Fucked it right up. Start over. Toss the whole man out.”

“You don’t understand. It has to be him! I chose him for a reason!”

“Then take a picture for memory’s sake but you can’t keep broken trash laying around. That doesn't spark joy.”

To that, Karen doesn’t respond, except to set down the phone on some hard surface. She doesn’t hang up, surprisingly.

“Baby…” the man croaks. He sounds absolutely parched, his voice raw and shattered from screaming. “Please… don’t…”

“Fuck you!” Karen finishes her cry by yanking on the wire that encircles her ex’s throat, if the choked gasps are any indication. “You ruin everything! You couldn’t do this one thing for me, Jason? You couldn’t let me have any bit of happiness?! You selfish pig! I should have done this years ago!”

The sounds of struggle and asphyxiation slow and then stop entirely. Her ex hits the ground with a boneless, wet noise, and doesn’t gasp or wheeze again.

“Thank you,” Karen says primly as she picks up the phone again. “That was unpleasant.”

Gladys taps against the paper and wonders for a moment if she should say something. Finally her conscience gets the better of her. “Ma’am, are you wearing gloves?”

“What does that have to do with it?”

… so no. Clearly Karen handled the very same tetanus infested wire without protection. Gladys glances down at the man in the picture, at those resigned, glistening eyes still so stupidly filled with hope and affection, and shrugs to herself. “No reason,” she says with a sharp smile. “Would you like to stay on the line for a brief survey?”

Click.

[magalidragon]

it must be puppy love | part 2 | teaser

Distracted by work and fandom wank yesterday (don’t slide into my DMs with your BS. 😑) so I didn’t work on this how I wanted. As apologies for not getting it up today like I wanted I will offer a teaser and cross fingers I can get it done by Friday. Enjoy!

That was about the extent of it, he thought, reflecting on that particular morning. It was only a few days ago. He was so fucking confused. He brooded about it the entire way to the vet clinic, parking behind her car, and going up and inside. One of the vet techs-- every one of them wore red scrubs, so weird-- led him to the exam room, where Drogon was resting on the floor, poking at the crate where the pups wiggled around, squealing in displeasure that they’'d been taken from their mother.

Ghost rushed immediately to his children, Jon nodding to Dany, who was scrolling on her phone. "Hey," he greeted, unclipping Ghost's lead.

She smiled briefly; she had a very nice smile, he'd been remiss to tell her. "Hey. Oh look at that, Ghost you've got a new accessory."

"Passed his trials this morning."

"Amazing," she murmured, furrowing her brow as Ghost began digging at a divot in the tile. She darted a glance to him, silently questioning. He shrugged; he could pass the K-9 trials, didn't mean he had to be fully smart elsewhere. She smiled a little wider, scratching Ghost's ears. "Good boy. Check on your babies."

Drogon wagged her tail, looking up when he approached her. He knelt to her level, ruffling her ears and pressing a kiss to her nose. She was relatively cute, when you studied her long enough. He still gave Dany shit for having an ugly dog though. "How're you girl? Hmm? Pups keeping you up?" He turned to hte crate, reaching in and collecting the one closest, the little girl, whose fur had begun growing in and was now about the same snowy white as her father. She nuzzled into his chest, squeaking, litlte paws scrabbling at him.

He rubbed between her ears, lifting his gaze to meet Dany, who was still attending to Ghost. He cleared his throat, shrugging, pretending like he hadn't already been thinking about this. "You know...they're getting bigger and stuff and...we need to think about...are we gonna' keep them or...sell..."

Even he didn't feel good about the last word. He was relieved when Dany jerked her head up, horrified. "Sell them? Fuck no! You might have a heart of ice, but I actually care, these are Drogon's babies and I will not...”

"Whoa, chill out Dragon Queen." He made a 'time out' motion with his hands, not at all expecting that to stop her, which it did not. He sighed, while Dany ranted another moment about how he was just "dumping" the children because he couldn't be bothered, and finally he chose drastic action.

He swooped in and kissed her.

It had the desired effect. She stopped talking, her words catching in the back of her throat, mouth parted in surprise. He took the opportunity to lightly cup the back of her head, at an awkward angle as she was looking up from her seated position and he was bending over, the dogs and crate between them, and a wiggling pup against his chest. He was surprised himself, mostly by how gentle it was. He didn't intend it, it just...happened.

She reached up, her hand curling around his forearm, fingers digging into the thick fatigues material, and she returned the kiss, lips soft under his. He broke away first, eyes wide on hers, and saw her expression likely mirrored his, violet irises wide around her dilated pupil, her pink lips swollen, open slightly. She darted her tongue to wet them, her hand still around his arm. He dropped his from her head, lightly stroking over one of her braids across her shoulder and drifted away.

The room was quiet; the pups squealed and Drogon huffed a sigh, moving into a more comfortable position. Ghost panted, whipping his head between them both. He swallowed hard, murmuring. "No one's selling the puppies."

It threw her off, her throat bobbing, a muscle in her jaw ticking when she swallowed. "Alright," she rasped. She dropped her hand from his arm, like she'd been burned, and fisted her fingers against her thighs. Coughing, she composed herself, and he took the moment to do the same, also thrown off, not just by his initial reaction to bloody fucking kiss her, but the way hed done so. And even the way she reacted.

Like what the fuck Snow? They had no label on whatever this was, didn't want to even think about it, and he was not interested. He'd been married for five miserable bloody awful years, the only thing he'd come to realize out of that situation was that he never wanted to feel like that again and that meant no bloody relationships.

Ghost, the stupid mutt, did not seem to understand that they were in this together, and had gone and started something with the dog next door, and now it seemed he was in the same situation. Even if Drogon seemed a bit more reluctant, despite Ghost's best efforts. He was now sitting right beside her, his big fluffy butt sitting on her back legs, but Drogon didn't mind.

Dany's eye twitched, almost imperceptible. She cleared her throat and reached into her tote bag, removing a very "lawyerly" black leather portfolio. She flicked it open and took out a red pen with dragons engraved in it, uncapped it with her teeth, and began to scrawl atop a yellow legal pad. He scowled. "You suing me?"

"No," she snapped. She set the pen cap down and primly rested the notepad on her knee, legs crossed. She spoke as she wrote. "In the matter of Ghost Snow and Drogon Targaryen....custody arrangements for...." She glanced at the pups, hte one still in his arms and the other who had wiggled out of the crate and straight to Drogon, suckling eagerly. She squinted. "Well they need names, but for now we will refer to them as Child A and Child B."

He drolled, "How sentimental." What on earth was she doing? He said nothing, his heart skipping behind his ribs.

Dany continued, writing quickly. "Custody agreement shall commence upon the date of first weaning, after which Child A and Child B are no longer fully dependent on mother, Drogon Targaryen, for sustenance."

"You are so clinical, my gods."

"I am being thorough," she said, but there was no heat behind it. She lifted her eyebrows, smirking at him. "Do you want them every other day or week or what?"

He looked at Ghost, who cocked his head, tongue out at the side of his open mouth. "I think Ghost would like to see his children as much as physically possible." He furrowed his eyebrows, thinking, an idea forming. He nodded to her legal pad. "Keep working on that, but I have an idea."

"Dangerous."

[concussed-to-pieces]

Late July

Fandom: Kingsman: The Golden Circle

Pairing: Agent Whiskey [Jack Daniels]/Reader

Rating: Holy shit explicit.

Summary: Upon hearing about you from Tequila, Jack Daniels seeks you out with a full set of emotional baggage to work through. You happily oblige, helping him craft a scene that just might grant him some peace of mind. Enjoy!

Tag List: @huliabitch @wrestlingfae @cookiethewriter @culturalrebel @jackierey09 @crookedmoonsaultpunk @duker42 @agirllovespasta @nelba @pedrosbigdorkenergy @lestrange2703 @youmeanmybrain @luvley-shadow @theocatkov @miscellaneousjunkk @reluctantlyresponsibleadult @buttons-beads-lace @gooddaykate @lackofhonor

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains consensual non-consent (surrender play), light domination, roleplay, unprotected sex, frank discussion of safe words, usage of safe words, dirty talk and light bondage. Remember that fanfictions are not research and that you should never engage in any activity if you do not trust your partner. Stay safe!]

There was just something about you that put people at ease, and Ginger Ale noticed during the interview process. "You have a gift!" She had praised you, her smile unexpected and bright. "I can see why Tequila recommended you for this position."

Granted, being the 'head of first impressions' at a distillery that was actually a front for a secret intelligence agency had its ups and downs, but you enjoyed the work and (if you were honest) the exciting interactions with the Statesman agents. 

Tequila, of course, would practically drape himself across your desk as he regaled you with (hopefully) exaggerated tales of his heroics. The two of you were sexually involved but preferred to keep each other at arm's length out of the bedroom, neither party particularly keen on surrendering your freedom and committing to anything serious at this point of your lives. You admired his dedication to Statesman, and he in turn respected your desire to have a successful career. He also was blatantly mooning over a certain analyst.

Ginger Ale was quieter and sharper than Tequila, her dry humor a joy to witness. She was the one who had done your interview, and she had given you the full behind the scenes tour once your background check went through. She was beautiful, charismatic and smart as a whip. You hoped to one day be as self-assured as she was.

Champ tended to keep to himself for the most part, though you had encountered him several times in the past when he dozed off in a certain chair at the end of a sunlit hallway. The elderly man was like an old tomcat, you decided, able to prowl but more than willing to take it easy.

Whiskey was often away managing the affairs of their New York headquarters and as such, was the one that you interacted with the least. He would come breezing in at all hours, a slow smile and a wink directed your way before he would saunter past. The rare occasions that he engaged you in conversation were nerve-wracking, as you were a little starstruck due to the glowing accounts both Champ and Tequila had given of his prowess in the past.

Ginger Ale was a bit more down to earth, thankfully. "He's just a man who's lost a lot, and his reasons for wanting to change things for the better may not be entirely altruistic." She had informed you concisely when you queried about the origin of one Jack Daniels. You had picked up on the veiled sadness in his dark eyes, the age that seemed to weigh him down that wasn't entirely related to years.

So when the aforementioned Statesman agent had drunkenly expressed a certain desire to you at a company party, you couldn't hide a little spike of curiosity. Mainly because the two of you interacted so rarely. Hell, you wouldn't even call yourselves friends. Tequila must have told him about your side activities.

"Ever since I lost her, I can't fuckin' bring myself to raw anyone else." The confession had come out of left field, but you had done your best to play it off like it was normal. Lord knew you had done enough paperwork in your career at Statesman to understand that agents would just kind of…say things thoughtlessly if they believed they were in a safe environment. A hazard of the job.

"What do you mean, Mr. Daniels?" 

"Call me Jack. Jesus, I ain't that old." He had hiccupped sharply, grimacing. "I just mean I...it's like a mental block. I wanna', I'm excited about it, and everything's fine until I try to come and boom. Python shrivels up like a damn salted slug and I'm left holdin' the bag tryin' to explain myself." He stared into his glass, looking pensive. "Real mood killer."

"Any idea why this might be?" You had prompted, leaning against the bar and idly scanning the throngs of people around you. It wasn't every day that so many of the company's rank and file rubbed elbows with the higher-ups, but you had to assume these economic mixers were what had kept the company (and intelligence agency) on such an even keel. It was a grounding experience, a way to remind the suits of their humble beginnings.

He scoffed out a breath. "Oh I know exactly why. When I lost her, I...we had only learned a little while before that she was havin' a baby. We'd been havin' a rocky time and we were actually thinkin' of breakin' up, but that news…" Jack had tilted his head to glance your way, his brown eyes distant. "If I hadn't gotten her pregnant, she wouldn't have been out shoppin' that day, y'know?" A sad smile had quirked his mouth beneath his mustache. "My fault."

At the time, you had made a noise of sympathy and gone to lay a hand on his arm before you could think better of it. He, instead of shrugging off your touch, actually ended up twining his fingers through your own and giving your hand a light squeeze.

Agent Whiskey's past was a shadowy affair in the Statesman organization. Though to be fair, no one really asked anything about anyone. Ginger Ale reasoned that the less people knew, the safer they and Statesman were in the event of a security breach. 

Anything you learned from any of the agents, you tended to keep close to your heart. It was your nature to gather useful information and foster trust for a rainy day. That personality facet had served you well as you had climbed the ranks from intern to head of first impressions, and knowing that you were someone that could be counted on to hold your cards close put many people at ease.

Including one Agent Whiskey.

"Tequila said you were good at helpin'. I'd be much obliged if you'd consider takin' a crack at my sexual baggage."

...

"Alright so for your words, you've decided on 'sixth' as your 'yes I'm into this', followed by second for 'slow down but don't break character', first for 'slow down and do break character' and finally neutral for 'full stop'." You tapped the customary notepad on your lap, glancing over at the man across the table. The two of you were currently sitting in the kitchen of the vacation cabin that your parents had willed to you, the modest dwelling often your staging ground for affairs like this. The warm wooden decor tended to make your partners feel more at ease and less vulnerable. Perceived safety was, after all, incredibly important when crafting scenarios.

Jack nodded. "Gears are easy for me to remember. Simple." 

"Got it. And no kissing on the mouth. Can I kiss you in other places, or would you prefer I didn't at all?"

"Kissin's fine." Jack allowed. "Whatever you wanna' do is fine, just not on my mouth." You jotted that down. "Hey, I uh...I just wanted you to know that I really appreciate you agreein' to help. I dunno' if this will work, but…" Whiskey rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Thanks. When Tequila mentioned your...extracurriculars, I figured he was jus' bein' outta' pocket again."

You grinned at that, giggling a little. "Does he get weird a lot?"

"I mean, he's uh...well, he's got his moments." Jack replied with a smile of his own.

"So," you hummed once you had checked your notes again, "after looking over all the information we've compiled, and the ideas you gave me an outline of, I'm thinking that you may want more of a 'surrender-play' kind of experience." 

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Dare I ask how that's different from what I already suggested?" 

"Look, you and I both know that I couldn't keep you from moving if you wanted to. Now, if we had a real working dynamic going on and I believed that you would listen and trust me implicitly so that you don't end up hurting yourself or me, then we might have something. But as we are right now, that's not gonna' happen." Whiskey inclined his head with a rueful chuckle, acknowledging the truth of your words. "So I propose that it's more of a scenario where all the agency is removed."

The agent leaned forward, folding his hands on the table. "Explain."

"You need a scenario where you aren't in control and there's not even a chance of you being in control, taking any responsibility or guilt from the equation." You elaborated. "Basically, you would surrender your control so that you can indulge guilt-free. A lot of people do this coupled with a roleplay aspect in order to test new things that may be out of character for them."

"You coulda' jus' said you wanted to tie me up, sugar." Jack drawled. "I'll show you some good knots."

"You don't have any issues with being secured to...I guess a chair, probably? We'll keep you upright. If we sprawl you out on a bed that might be a little too vulnerable." You reasoned, waiting for his nod before you wrote it down. "I know it sounds contradictory, but I want you to be comfortable in what we do. Should I leave your clothes on?"

"If you can stand to, I'd appreciate it." The man answered with a cheeky wink. "Bein' naked and restrained is a little too close to the job description." He sighed after a moment, tipping the chair backwards as he laced his fingers behind his head. "Now I warn you, if I'm supposed to be an unwillin' party, I may display a little less Southern hospitality and a little more Southern history with my language, if you catch my drift."

You pursed your lips, squinting at him. "...is that your way of saying you might use a naughty word or two?"

You received a lazy finger-gun in reply, "bingo, cherry pie. You got any names you ain't a fan of bein' called?"

"Oh! I mean, I've heard just about everything in the book." You straightened up as a thought occurred to you, and then pointed back at him sternly. "No slurs."

"Ma'am," Jack sounded aghast, "I am not that breed of Southern gentleman. My lingo can verge on the spicy, but I sure as hell wouldn't stoop to that level." 

You narrowed your eyes to drive your point home. "I really hope not." The agent inclined his head once more, putting a hand over his heart in a display of sincerity.

The front legs of the chair met the floor with a soft clatter, once again putting him on stable footing. "Now, I been wrackin' my brain tryin' to drum up a good premise like you asked, but I ain't exactly big in the screenwritin' department. I figure it could be kinda' like I'd been kidnapped? Drawin' a blank on why my kidnapper would be rawdoggin' me, maybe you can come up with somethin'?" He queried hopefully. 

You furrowed your brow in thought, going silent as you carefully considered the hodgepodge of contributing factors. "Oh, I think I can manage."

...

This deck had been rigged from the start. In theory, you knew that he knew that. Still, he was certainly acting like it stung his pride a bit that he'd fallen into your 'trap' so cleanly. 

Everything was going according to plan. 

Whiskey struggled against the binds that secured him to the kitchen chair. His whip was safely confiscated. Lasso out of reach. Hat was still on his head. He had specifications, after all. 

You left him to wriggle for almost half an hour while you got yourself ready. The man was a secret agent, after all. If he hadn't been restrained for much longer than that at any given point you would be very surprised. 

You finally opened the bathroom door, sauntering out into the cabin's small kitchenette. "Miss me, love?" You crooned, committing to your role as villainous vamp stereotype number six. You had worn a plain set of underwear and an oversized white t-shirt, soft and see-through from the amount of times it had been washed. You got the feeling that if you went more elaborate, you might scare Whiskey off or make him too uncomfortable to really get into it. This scene was all about trust, and he hardly knew you. But he had sought you out for this. All you had to do was follow through.

"Was beginnin' to worry that you forgot about me, ma'am." The agent drawled back, his smile tightly sardonic and his low voice curling hot in your belly. "You fixin' to untie me yet?"

You clicked your tongue, the noise disappointed. "Whiskey, sweetheart, where's the fun in that? If I untie you, you'll just kill me."

"Can't blame a man for tryin'." Jack was absolutely in his element right now. He looked furious. 

You ambled around behind him, slinging your arms around his neck and resting your weight on him briefly. "Remember," you murmured in his ear. "If you need me to slow down, or need to stop entirely, you say…?"

"Second, first and neutral." The agent replied readily. You patted his cheek.

"Good boy." You praised. 

"Ain't my first rodeo." Whiskey's tongue darted out nervously to wet his lips and you wanted to reassure him, but you knew you had a job to do.

"Now, can I get you a light refreshment? Something to drink? Maybe some chips?" You offered, moving to the small refrigerator that you had stocked a little earlier in the day. Planning was imperative for engagements like this. "I have water, sweet tea, Coke…"

"Dammit woman, stop beatin' around the bush! Why the hell do you have me hogtied to this damn chair?!" Jack erupted. 

"So rude." You chided him, removing a water for yourself and then leaning casually against the counter. "You really want to know, Mr. Whiskey?"

"Obviously." He scowled.

"Well be a patient boy and maybe I'll tell you." You hummed, not making eye contact as you unscrewed the cap on the water bottle. "It was more than enough trouble for me to get you here in the first place, big shot. Don't rush me."

"Listen, I'll be the first to tell you that I probably ain't who you're lookin' for." He said bluntly. "I'm just a simple liquor tycoon, nothin' more."

"Mr. Whiskey, if you continue to insult my intelligence maybe I will decide I've got the wrong man. And then I'll just get rid of you." You swirled the water in the bottle, fixing him with a thoughtful look. 

"You're talkin' a mighty big game, woman." Jack grumbled. 

You sloshed some of the water on your thin white shirt as if by accident, and began daubing at the gauzy fabric aimlessly. "Whiskey-"

"It's Jack." He spat.

"Oh, we're on a first name basis? How exciting!" You teased him, laughing when he muttered angrily under his breath. He was clearly enjoying the role of 'belligerent definitely-not-a-spy'. "Alright then, Jack. I won't beat around the bush, as you so tactfully put it."

"Hallelujah, some goddamn cooperation." He replied in a sulky tone.

"So, Jack, I need you to come inside me. Strictly so I can bypass Statesman's biomechanical security systems. It's nothing personal, I just assumed you would be the easiest target, you know?" You remarked with a shrug. "The flirty cowboy with the filthy mouth." He stared at you and you raised an eyebrow, half-convinced that his reaction was legitimate. "What? You do have a reputation."

"I hate to break it to ya', but you got the wrong beverage. You're lookin' for Tequila, ma'am." Jack retorted, his voice a little raspy. "You want...what?"

"I need you to come inside me so I can use the your genetic signature to bypass the security." Granted, you were pretty certain that Statesman used exclusively fingerprints, retina scans and time locks, but Whiskey had told you to weave a good story for the setup, not necessarily an accurate one.

Jack swallowed hard. "You've got bats in your fuckin' belfry, woman. You expect me to-"

"Oh no, that's the beauty of this arrangement." You interrupted him, still smiling. "I don't expect you to do anything aside from sit there and stay still while I ride you." 

"Jesus fuck woman, you--shit, isn't there some other way to do this? I ain't keen on the prospect, but if there's literally any other way…" 

"Sorry. This is the only solution that my superiors could get behind." You sighed, feigning regret. "And we might be here a while, from what I've heard." Jack's eyes darted to yours and he flushed, working his jaw. "Don't look so glum! I'm one of the best in my field. I'm sure I'll be able to compensate for your...lack of investment."

"You touch me and I swear to God-"

"Ah ah, naughty boys get gagged." You threatened gently, walking your fingers up the side of his face to stroke them back down his jawline. Jack glared at you, his dark gaze fairly luminous with fury and maybe just a touch of poorly-veiled interest. "Be a good boy and I'll let you talk as much as you want. Maybe I'll even let you play with my tits, hmm?" You asked, cupping your breasts through your still-damp shirt. "Would you like that, love?"

"I…" Jack trailed off, then snapped his eyes back up from your chest. "No!"

You tapped his nose, winking. "Oh I think you would. Don't be so stubborn, Jack." You cocked your head to the side. "No one from Statesman even knows you're gone. No one is coming to rescue you." You informed him, all the playfulness evaporated from your voice. "You're mine now, Jack. My own personal key-card."

"You won't get away with this." Jack snarled.

"I think I already have." You knelt between his legs, running your hands over the jeans that covered his thighs. He squirmed, trying to dislodge you, but you just moved with him. You dug your nails into his thighs. "You keep wiggling and I'm going to have to tighten the ropes, Jack. Is that what you want?"

"Oh you filthy fuckin' woman, you absolute bitch, let me go!" 

"Hmm," you tapped your chin as he kept jerking and straining against the knots. "No." 

Jack froze when your fingers unbuttoned the button at the top of his fly. "Now wait, wait just a damn minute, y-you can't--" he tried to plead.

"Oh I can. And I will." You looked up at him. "As long as we're in the right gear?"

"Sixth, sixth." He affirmed, flashing you a quick smile. You nodded and seamlessly resumed your play.

The zipper of his fly opened devastatingly slow, the agent exhaling raggedly when you pulled up his shirt and palmed his groin gently through the fabric of his boxer briefs. His cock was already half-hard, and you pointed that out with a mean little smirk on your face. "Oh no, looks like someone's interested." You crooned, rubbing your index finger over the head of his still-clothed dick.

"Fuck off, you...y-you-" he swore, rolling his shoulders as if he was testing his bonds. "You little bitch."

"Temper temper." You chided, ducking your head down to mouth over the fabric of his boxers. Jack gasped out another swear over your head, his hips twitching up to meet you before he slammed them back down. "Methinks someone doth protest too much." You snorted, splaying your fingers on the newly-revealed skin of his stomach. "We could make this so much simpler if you would just give in, Jack." You didn't miss the way his skin jumped at your touch, and you smiled against his boxers.

"You'll--you'll have to do better than that." Whiskey breathed. "You think just any ol' woman can get me up?"

You stood, leaning in close and pressing your mouth to his ear. His whole body flinched when you wrapped your fingers around his cock and gave him a nice, slow stroke. "Oh, poor thing. You must believe you're really special, hmm? God's gift to mankind every time you take someone to bed." You mocked, your teeth and tongue laving over his earlobe. "We're all so lucky to have you, Jack."

"Hhn-" Jack's shoulders went stiff, the man obviously biting his tongue. 

"You don't have a choice, sweetheart. I'm going to get you hard. Then, I'm going to use your cock. And all you have to do, my lovely, handsome cowboy, is come inside me." You informed him, drawing a finger beneath his chin. "More than once, preferably."

"I'm not usually a man to voice my own shortcomin's, but I must warn you that this will be a futile-" Whiskey's words hitched in his throat when you stroked him again. "Fuck, no, don't touch me like that, you--"

"Stop playing hard to get, Jack." You murmured, slinking your free hand up the back of his neck to massage his scalp right beneath the band of his hat. "Give up."

"Never." He hissed even as his head lolled forward, granting you more access to rub his neck. 

"Pity." You settled back down between his legs and wrapped your lips around his cock. 

"No, no, dammit-" Whiskey growled, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "Don't you fuckin'...no, no, don't use your tongue the-ah f-uck--" His protest died in a pitiful groan when his cock met the back of your throat. "Oh, you--fuckin'--you've got to be shittin' me woman, the whole-?" He grunted out haphazardly as you relaxed your throat and took him all the way down to the base. "You think y-you can take advantage of me jus' cuz' it's been a while since I got laid? Fuck you."

You hummed around his cock, wanting to giggle when he twitched and swore loudly. Your fingers dove past the hem of your underwear, and you moaned against him as you ran your index in slow, steady circles around your clit. 

"I ain't fuckin' you, and I sure as shit am not gonna' come in your pussy." Jack snarled. 

"Oh yes you are." You sang, rising to your feet and slipping your panties off. The white t-shirt came next, baring your breasts to the air-conditioned environment. 

Jack seemed to forget that he was supposed to be vehemently against this yet again as he just...watched while you teased your nipples. You tugged at the taut peaks, rolling them between your fingers and making a show out of the whole bit. 

"I can't wait to have you inside me, filling me up, just pumping me full of your come." You said with a smile, sauntering over until you would be in reach if his hands were free. Jack's tongue made a nervous reappearance and you tugged his chin upwards so you could see his eyes. "Are we still in gear? Or do we need to shift?" You asked. He seemed slightly dazed.

"Oh! Uh, sorry, s-sixth." He stammered. "Sixth, holy shit."

"Mm. Don't disappoint me and maybe I'll let you live." You remarked smoothly, swinging one leg over his lap and straddling him. Jack's shoulders were rigid again and you kneaded at them surreptitiously, trying your best to keep him in the scene and out of his own head.

You were well on your way to soaking wet with arousal. There was nothing better than when you had a partner that trusted you, regardless of whether you had truly earned that trust. Just the fact that they had blind faith in you to execute the endeavor that they needed...it was heady and sweet and you loved every second. 

You rutted your pussy against the underside of Jack's cock, the man snapping his teeth at the sensation. "Too good?" You taunted, laughing when he swore again.

"I can't believe that you think I'm fuckin' enjoyin' th--look, any dick perks up at heavy pet-" 

Cutting Whiskey off mid-sentence was quickly becoming a favorite pastime, you realized as you angled your hips and let the head of his cock push past your pussy lips. "In, just a little, give you a taste, sweetheart…" you sighed, rocking your hips forward and back but not allowing him to sink any deeper into you. "There, that's not so bad, is it?" You cajoled as he shuddered beneath you. "Just keep being good, my sweet cowboy, and this will all be over so much sooner." 

"No, no-" He struggled to move, to do anything, but you had made certain to tie him exactly as he had specified. "Dammit, when I get free of here, I'll--"

"Shh, you think too much." You tapped your index finger to his lips, smoothing it over the bristle of his mustache. "Focus on your job right now, and everything will be fine." 

Jack turned his face away, inadvertently presenting the thick column of his neck to you. And you, channeling your inner villain, leaped at the opportunity to lick and bite at the bared skin. He made a strange noise, a combination of a moan and a whine that had you raising an eyebrow. 

"Is someone a little sensitive there?" 

"No, I am not." He answered through gritted teeth. "I hate that you're touchin' me, that's all!"

"Hmm, it doesn't sound like you hate it." You mused, suckling gently at the spot where his jaw met his throat. You were very careful not to leave marks, as that had been another specification. Whiskey struggled underneath you again, only succeeding in pumping his cock up into you slightly.

"Don't, don't--" His voice actually cracked and you smiled, nuzzling your nose beneath his jawline and letting his dick settle deeper.

"Oh no, it seems like you do want to fuck me after all." You shrugged nonchalantly, leaning back and stroking over the base of his cock with two fingers. "Warming up to the idea of being my little fuck toy, Jack?" You teased, noting the way his knuckles whitened from his grip on the rope and his Adam's apple bobbed with the force of his convulsive swallow at your words. "I could just keep you here like this forever, you know. All tied up, helpless for me…" You squeezed the base of his cock and he gasped, trying to stifle the noise. "Soon, I'd have you trained so that you couldn't come from any other pussy aside from mine. Wouldn't that be fun?" 

Without waiting for an answer, you let the last few inches of his dick enter you. You leaned back on his thighs, feeling the muscles coil and strain beneath your touch as you reached down and grazed your clit. You could feel the heat of his gaze on you, those brown eyes fixated on the motions of your fingers even as his cock split you open. You were grateful that he was secured, you weren't sure if you would have been able to take him otherwise. His cock curved thickly against your back wall, the engorged head throbbing back and forth over the area that made your whole body shudder in delight. 

Whiskey's jaw was taut, his shoulders set in a rigid line that made you ache to get him to come undone in you.

"You're so quiet." You pouted, raising your hand and brushing your wet index finger over his slack lower lip. "Aren't you having a good time?"

His chest abruptly expanded, like he had forgotten to breathe for a moment or two. "Fuck you." Whiskey seethed, making you chuckle softly. "I ain't nobody's goddamn fuck toy."

"Sweetheart," you chided as you sat up. "That's not a very nice thing to say to the person warming your cock right now." You deliberately clenched down on him and Jack swore under his breath, shaking his head. "I can make you feel so good, Whiskey, if you just give me what I want." You insisted, cupping his face and pulling halfway off of his cock. 

"N-N...No." He replied weakly.

You sighed, rolling your eyes and shaking out your shoulders. "Well, I tried." Your hands landed on his shoulders and you gripped down to steady yourself, your hips meeting his own with a wet slap! of skin. Jack's chest heaved, his eyes closed and head tilted back as you began to ride him roughly. "All I wanted was for you to come in me. I don't feel like that's asking for much!" You complained petulantly, rolling your hips against his when he was hilted in you with an agonizingly slow grind of your body.

Jack bit out a low "fuck," those tense shoulders trembling under your touch. You tucked your face into his neck to tease the sensitive area even more, your tongue tracing random patterns that made him squirm and writhe underneath you. "I don't--can't, can't, don't make me--" he tried to protest, his words fractured and pitiful. 

"Yes you can, and you're going to." You snapped, taking a handful of hair at the nape of his neck so you could urge his head back further, leaving his throat at your mercy. "You're coming in me, Jack! Give up!"

...

"First!" He choked out, and you immediately slowed to a crawl. Your touch on him gentled significantly, no longer demanding but cradling, caressing. 

"Easy, easy." You soothed, the unrelenting assault of your perfect hips gone to a slow and careful rhythm, back and forth like a porch swing in the summer heat. Your eyes searched his own, concern shining through.

Jack was speechless, his blind panic melting away at the sound of your regular voice. What the hell just happened? He licked his lips, only now realizing how dry they had gotten. "Sorry, I uh-"

"No apologies." You murmured. "You have nothing to be sorry for. Would you like to stop now?"

Whiskey took a long moment, running a mental check on his body. Nothing was sore, nothing seemed out of line. Everything was raring to go. 

Everything aside from his brain, that is. The damn thing wouldn't stop conjuring up scenes of you pregnant and everything going to absolute fucking shit. It didn't matter that he had zero attachment to you, it didn't matter that you were on birth control. This was how it always was. 

Every damn time things got serious with a new interest, "oh, let's start a family," Whiskey just wanted to curl up into a ball. Without fail, like clockwork, he would shut down. 

And then the accusations would start, the distrust, "How come you can do it with protection but not without?" and it was disheartening, crushing to go through again and again. Explaining didn't seem to do a lick of good, it was always just that he was stringing people along, that he was a damn selfish prick, that he didn't care about what his partner wanted.

That couldn't be further from the truth, of course, but maybe that was his own fault for not dropping the bomb before getting attached to someone. He just couldn't ever seem to justify asking a person on their second or third date, "hey so what's your thoughts on having kids?" It felt manipulative, cheap, and if he was being honest, he knew for a fact that sometimes just the idea of having children was enough to scare a potential interest off. 

You were the first person to try and help Jack really wrap his head around this whole issue. And yeah, that was the whole point in sussing you out, but…

Tequila didn't tell him that you actually gave a shit, or at least you were damn good at acting like you did. Whiskey bit his lip. "I'm okay." He said finally, trying for a smile.

"Anything chafing? Do you need some water?"

"I…" Jack trailed off. "Huh, I admit I am a bit parched. But that means you'd have to get up." He realized unhappily.

"Were you enjoying yourself?" You asked, sounding curious. 

Whiskey got the hysterical idea in his head of you pulling out some sort of satisfaction survey at the end of your engagement, the notion making him smirk slightly. "God, yeah. I...yeah." He flushed a little bit. "Dunno' if I ever got this far after…after all my mental hangups and stuff. The fact that I don't have a say in the matter seems to be helpin', though."

"Okay, don't go anywhere. I'll get you some water." You patted his thigh, cautiously settling your feet on the floor and then going to stand with a quivery little gasp that absolutely stroked his ego.

Jack couldn't help his own groan at the loss of your heat, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. "Damn it woman, has anyone ever told you that your pussy is fuckin' perfect?" He muttered, his usual honeyed words suddenly clumsy in his mouth. "I mean, hell."

You laughed, bending over to dig in the small fridge for another water. Whiskey felt his entire body throb at the sight of you presenting yourself to him like that, and he sucked in a breath at your obvious teasing. Even in the soft light of the kitchen, he could see the glisten of the wetness between your legs. Hell yes, he found himself thinking stupidly as you turned back around. 

"I'm just glad that you're doing alright. That's the most important part to me, after all." You assured him, unscrewing the cap on the water and tipping it to his lips.

Jack gulped greedily, feeling a few droplets escape his mouth and run down his neck to blot his collar. "I am. One hundred percent." He said firmly after he had slaked his thirst. "Let's keep goin'."

"If you're sure, absolutely." You acquiesced, smiling again. Placing the water bottle on the kitchen table, you then swung your leg over his thighs like you were vaulting back into the saddle. Jack held his breath, waiting for you to welcome his cock back into your body. And God he was so hard, he couldn't remember ever being this hard, what the hell--

But strangely, you didn't immediately resume from where you had left off. Instead, you put your arms around his neck and actually rested your forehead against his own, bumping his hat upwards. 

Jack swallowed roughly, confused. 

"Let me take this from you." You whispered. Whiskey felt pinned by your stare, he felt as if you could see every terrible thing he had ever done, every transgression laid bare under the weight of your gaze. "Let go of it. I have you. I won't let anything happen to you." 

The words washed over him, soft and sweet. Your fingers slipped up into the hair at the nape of his neck to toy with the mussed ends that lurked there. The whole exchange was oddly intimate and Jack found himself at a loss yet again, simply grating out, "sixth," when he couldn't come up with anything else to say.

You reached down and stroked his cock, rubbing the head of it against your clit. And Jesus he could feel you, the difference in heat, the slick--

"Are you gonna' take it from me, sweet girl?" He hissed through his teeth like it wounded him to ask, trying desperately to cling to the illusion that he wasn't willing. "Take everythin' I've got?"

The blur between reality and this playdate was getting messier by the second. He wanted to fuck you, wanted to bury himself in you, spend every last drop inside the hot embrace of your quivering cunt. He wanted that. Jesus Christ, this wasn't part of the bargain.

This was a pantomime, specially designed pornography that existed only to coax a very specific reaction from his confused body. So why did he wish he had met you years ago? Why was he suddenly hoping and praying that the sounds you were making were legitimate instead of exclusively for his benefit, hoping that you were also enjoying this?

You angled your hips and sank back down on his lap, your hands going to your breasts where you proceeded to fondle and tease them until your nipples looked like they ached.

Whiskey fucking ached himself to wrap his lips around one pert little peak, swirl his tongue across the tip and make you come undone, rut his dick up into you until you cried out his name and soaked him--

Whoa cowboy, he chastised himself, a little startled by how sharp the longing was. You just kept fucking yourself on his cock, that hot, wet little pussy molded perfectly to every ridge of his member and he had never been this hard, this ready in his life. Despite the air conditioning in the cabin, your skin shone with sweat from all the work you were putting in and Whiskey couldn't recall a time where he had been more appreciative of someone else accomplishing a task within his field of vision.

Your hand slipped down, down, and Jack found himself following the trajectory until it delved between your legs and you started playing with yourself. "Jack," you crooned his name and it was like a prayer, reverent and soft, tender enough to coil itself around his lungs and choke him to death without a whisper of protest. You parted your legs even wider in his lap, exposing yourself to him so he could watch his cock slide in and out of you, so he could see himself fucking you open.

"Are you gonna' come for me, sweet girl?" He gasped, craning his neck and managing to tilt his head so he could mutter into your ear, "you just gonna' wrench one out for me, beautiful?"

"Mm, no, I'm not coming until after you come." You whimpered, still moving your hand. "But I'm so close, Jack. I want to come."

Your plaintive whine had him ablaze. God, he had never wanted to please someone so damn badly in his life. "I know you do, sweet girl." He murmured huskily, exhaling hot over the shell of your ear and loving the way you quivered in his lap. "You're so good, lettin' me blow my load before you get off--gonna' pump me dry when you come, aren't you? Just keep me inside you until that little pussy is all fucked out," he growled, barely aware of the words that tumbled from his mouth. 

All he knew is that you were all a-tremble at his voice, your body as hot as late July against his chest, your eyes heavy with adoration that he did not deserve and God, he couldn't get used to that look even if it was fake. What if you stayed? he wondered absently. What if you stayed?

Oh fuck, he was about to come. Panic jabbed like the blade of a knife between his shoulder blades and Whiskey went silent, his teeth bearing down on his lower lip and his eyes slamming shut as he focused harder than he ever had in his life.

The smell of you, the sounds, the heat, the little spasms of your cunt around his cock…

Yes. Yes, God yes, he could do this-- 

"Come in me, sweetheart." Begging him, pleading, demanding, "Jack-!" You cried his name.

Whiskey groaned hoarsely, so low it was almost painful, and let go. He bucked his hips up against you as best as he could, minute little thrusts while he came harder than he had in years. "Oh," he snarled, gritting his teeth, "fuckin' Christ woman, I think you've ruined me, Jesus fuck."

Your hands threaded through the hair at the nape of his neck again and you held him, not tightly, but just enough to keep him steady, anchored. "There," you said abruptly, the snide, put-upon tone of your role contrasting wildly with the gentleness of your touch, "was that so difficult?"

Jack burst out laughing, not overly concerned with how strange of a reaction that was. Hell, was he relieved? "Jesus fuckin' Christ, you're great." He remarked breathlessly. "I don't even know what just happened."

"Oh?" You replied, raising an eyebrow. "The mess between my legs seems to allude to you possibly having an orgasm. Jury's still out though."

He grimaced apologetically, glancing down. "Sorry darlin'. It's been a while, y'know?" You rose up off of him again and he grunted as his cock slipped free from your body. Whiskey felt half-drunk, relief and release combining into a potent cocktail that left him boneless in the chair. 

You quickly put your shirt back on and then crouched at his feet, beginning the arduous process of untying him. Jack just sat there, watching you drowsily. He couldn't do much else, really. "Any numbness or chafing?" You asked quietly, stirring him momentarily from his daze.

"Nah, nothin' yet." He replied, straightening his freed left leg and rotating his ankle in his boot. "A little stiff, but I've survived worse than that." 

"And how do you feel?" You questioned, "physically and emotionally."

Jack gnawed at his lower lip, trying to force his sluggish brain past the haze of serotonin in order to give you a satisfactory answer. "...good." He said finally, scrambling to elaborate, "or uh, better, I guess. More okay than I've been in a fuckin' while." It wasn't a lie, he was surprised to discover. He hadn't actually put much stock into this endeavor, figuring it would be a fun little diversion that would end just like every other time. Of course, it didn't hurt that you were easy on the eyes, prettier than a peach if he was being honest with himself.

Your smile was bright and Jack's stomach knotted confusingly. "I'm glad."

His right leg was released and he shifted his weight in the seat, groaning happily when his hip popped. "Hey, wait." The agent belatedly realized, "you didn't-?"

"We were here for you." You reminded him. "Not me."

"Whoa now, that don't seem fair at all!" Whiskey protested, taken aback by your nonchalance. "You just put in all the work!"

Your laugh tripped down his spine like an aftershock. "Don't get bent out of shape! It's standard policy, Mr. Whiskey. Once the desired result of the scene has been acquired, the scene ends and I start with aftercare."

"B-But--you didn't get to get off though!" 

"Me 'getting off' wasn't specified in our planning." 

"I needed to specify that shit?! I figured you'd just kinda'..." His right arm was free now and Jack seized the opportunity to make a certain gesture, raising his eyebrows. "I mean, I was at your mercy!" He continued, bewildered. "You totally coulda' just kept goin'-"

"Yes, and that's exactly why when the desired result has been achieved, the scene ends." You interjected firmly. "Because you trusted me enough to let me take control, and I'm not about to break that trust by doing something selfish on a whim."

Jack exhaled hard, scooting his hat a little further back on his head so he could study you. You didn't look disappointed, or annoyed with him. He wondered how many times you had fielded ignorant questions like his own and he cringed at himself. "I'm...shit, I'm sorry. I don't have any right to be all shitty about it." He apologized as you moved out of his field of view to untie the rope securing him to the back of the chair. "I just feel like you worked so hard an' got nothin' out of your end of the bargain."

"It's sweet of you to be concerned about that, but don't take it personally, okay?" You assured him, "I do this because I enjoy it. The whole experience, not just the finale." The ropes around his chest sagged and Jack slid forward a bit in the seat, relaxing. 

"Can I get that water again? Christ, I need a cigarette and a tumbler of the strong stuff after all that." He joked, clumsily tucking his cock back into his boxers. You pressed the bottle to his hands and he nearly dropped it, chuckling self-consciously. "Whups, sorry. I had my fists all bunched up so my fingers are stiff." Jack proceeded to down the rest of the bottle, wiping his mouth and mustache with the back of his hand after the fact. "So...what exactly is it you do for Tequila?" He queried nosily.

You laughed at him and God, God he loved the sound of your laugh. "That, Mr. Whiskey, is on a need-to-know basis. Just like this little soiree between the two of us." You chided, your eyes bright with good humor. "I would never violate a partner's trust in me."

Jack tipped the bottle in your direction, as if making a toast. "I'll drink to that, partner. What's next on the menu?"

"We'll talk out the scene and wind back down. Get cleaned up. I'll probably…" you paused, squinting at the clock over the sink. "You want some pizza? There's a joint not far from here that serves pies and chicken wings until midnight."

Jack groaned appreciatively, "I knew you were my kinda' gal. Lead the way to the debrief, ma'am."

It didn't really matter in the long run, he supposed. You obviously weren't interested in anything serious (if only because he figured that your flings with the stereotypical 'bad boy' Tequila would have become more regular in spite of the younger man's painful crush on Ginger Ale), and he could respect that. Still though, he couldn't help feeling a touch morose over the possibility of never engaging with you again. 

He toyed with the idea of asking you for another 'appointment', but dismissed the thought almost as quickly as it arrived. Better to quit while he was ahead.

Or rather, he amended ruefully as he settled down across from you in the diner booth, his hair still damp and curling slightly beneath his hat from the quick wash he had indulged in at your cabin, better to quit now before I make even more of a fool of myself.

Part Two

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Always made to break (S.M.)

Summary: Shawn meets someone who reawakens his soul and makes him question his choices in love. 

Warnings: swearing, slight angst, fluff

Word count: 4k

A/N - I’ve had this in my drafts for a while, so I decided to post it and see how you guys like it, so let me know if you want more.

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''Were you ever going to tell me?“ She practically growled at Shawn as she threw a magazine in his lap, the tone she used scaring him enough to look up at her face, the beautiful features now twisted with rage and disappointment, something he never wanted to see her direct at him.

''I don't unders-'', but then he saw just what she meant, seeing his face attached to Camilla's on the front page of a random gossip magazine. He knew why she was looking at him with such fire in her eyes, and not the kind he expected to see in the bedroom, but the purest form of hatred mixed with pain.

''Not only did you poise as some poor photography student, but you also claimed you're single?! How stupid can I be, right?“ She put her right hand on her hip, using the back of her left one to wipe under her nose although nothing was there but a fathom sensation of coldness he had caused her insides now manifesting on the outside as well. She didn't shed a single tear yet, her anger not allowing her heartbreak to show.

It is better to hate him for his lies than to feel sorry for herself, she decided.

''I didn't want to...“ Shawn trailed off, unable to find the words. He, a man of many words, a person who had always managed to put his emotions in the most eloquent of ways had found himself speechless at a time he needed his words the most.

''Didn't want what? To tell me you're rich and famous? That you're dating a star? Huh?!“ She huffed, her eyes burning him with the intensity of the unrestrained pit of bursting flames within.

''What was this to you? Huh? A joke? Did it make you feel good to make me the fool?!“ She shouted, the raw emotion ripping her throat like a thousand razorblades.

Bowing his head down, Shawn swallows thickly, his eyes filling with tears he knew would only anger her more in this moment. He doesn't get to cry over breaking her heart, he just doesn't.

At the beginning

It was supposed to be a calm, ordinary Monday morning for Shawn. After months on the road, it was nice to be back home for a short break from the stage and screaming fans, just him and his earplugs and a good cup of coffee. It was supposed to be a regular, lonesome morning to start the day off right, but things never really work out the way we want them to.

Whether he meant to sit in that particular café, in that particular chair, with that particular song playing as he lazily glanced around before taking the first sip of his coffee, Shawn had started a chain of events that would lead him into a world of trouble, yet unimaginable love and heartache.

In that lazy glance, Shawn had managed to catch a young girl's eye, his curls falling over his eyes obscuring his vision. She had merely smiled at him, so sweetly, so shyly, enough for Shawn to return the gesture. Her eyes fell back on her phone and he assumed she was likely sending a message to all her friends about seeing THE Shawn Mendes, probably posting a sneakily taken photo of him in his moment of supposed tranquility as well.

It's not as if he's not used to it, but Shawn really hoped he'd have this morning to himself, a moment to put his thoughts in proper order and a second to breathe. He's been having his picture taken every day, multiple times by fans and paparazzi, especially since he started the whole agreement with Camila and her team.

Shawn was tired of it, drained, so when he hoped for a moment of his own and lost it? He truly didn't feel at ease anymore.

He looked back at the girl once more, angrily with eyes narrowed. She seemed oblivious to his newfound outlet as she kept scrolling on her phone. She was beautiful, Shawn couldn't deny that. In fact, it's why he looked her way in the first place – it's why he sat in this particular café, outside on such a cold morning to have his coffee, all because she caught his eye as he was passing the street. However, whatever drew him in had now pushed him away as he scoffed under his breath, shaking his head.

That's when she looked up from her phone and trained her eyes on him again, a confused look passing her features as she stood slowly, setting herself on a path toward him.

Rolling his eyes, Shawn reminded himself to be nice for his image is kindness and never random rage outbursts on young girls who want a photo with him. He drew in a short, quick breath of fresh air before he looked up at her when she stopped a few feet away from him, prepared to fake it if need be.

"I’m really not in the mood.” Shawn says before he can stop himself, mentally face palming when he sees the girl’s eyebrows furrow, her bottom lip sinking between her teeth as she cleared her throat.

“I wanted to ask if you needed something aside from the coffee considering you’ve been looking at me this whole time. I just assumed you were annoyed because my colleague hasn’t been out in a while. I’m sorry for making the wrong assumption and bothering you.” She wasn’t harsh or rude, making Shawn feel even guiltier as he paled. Finally realizing she’s the waitress, Shawn’s paleness is quickly replaced with a crimson shade that he could never truly hide.

The girl didn’t get a chance to walk away as he stood up abruptly, knocking the table up in the process with his thighs, some of his coffee spilling over.

“No, no, no. I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to be so rude, I just…I do want something.” Shawn exclaimed, hoping he can dig himself out of this deep hole he managed to dig for himself in a matter of seconds. “A bagel! And a brownie, please?” Shawn gave her an awkward smile, running his hand through his messy curls as she studies him with care, unsure if she should say something about his odd behavior or just take it like she usually does.

There are worse customers than him, she thinks.

“Sure.” She sighs, placing her phone on his table before whipping out a small notepad to write his order down, walking away right after.

Sitting down, Shawn sighed heavily at his stupidity, chuckling at himself. Rubbing his forehead to soothe an oncoming headache, he opens his eyes only to find her phone is still on the table, unlocked at that!

He stared at the gadget with great interest, wondering if he had assumed more than one thing wrong and if he had to change his opinion of this girl entirely. He didn’t want to take the phone and search it, but what’s the harm in peering over his cup to see what app she’s got open, right?

“Most common complications of a bowl resection?” Shawn reads under his breath, his eyebrows knitted together as he stares at the words that quite frankly sound like they came from a Grey’s anatomy episode.

“What are you doing?” A sweet voice startles him into a small yelp, the girl chuckling at this tall hunk who seems to be so clumsy and presumptuous that she can’t quite figure him out yet.

“Oh, I…Uh…I’m a simple guy, really. I see a phone screen and I have to sneak a peek, except I can’t understand a damn thing written on there.” Shawn rubbed the back of his neck nervously, sure as hell that his face is tomato red by now. He hates tomatoes just as much as he hates his treacherous cheeks for betraying every emotion he’s ever had.

Giggling, she places his order on the table, pushing back a strand of hair behind her right ear. She takes her phone swiftly, pocketing it in a single move.

“Yeah, I’ve got an exam to prepare for. Been working the night shift! Lucky me!” She exclaims sarcastically, her lips pressed together before she places the bill on his table too, turning around to go.

She isn’t even wearing a uniform, Shawn realizes, watching her as she takes her bag and begins to pack her things from the table she was sat at before. She took his order even after her shift ended. Biting down on his bottom lip, Shawn could sense a war is brewing between his head and heart, each arguing why he should or should not go after her.

Shawn’s always been a heart guy, deciding to go ahead and listen to it once again.

Jumping to his feet, Shawn moves toward her on instinct, not quite ready for her to go. He’s got too much accumulated guilt over judging her and assuming things about her that he was clearly wrong about and while she didn’t know it, he still wanted to make amends. Shawn needed to do something nice for the girl who had been kind enough not to cuss him out for being inexcusably rude to her.

“Where are you going?" He asks before he could stop himself. His head cocked to the side, his eyes shifting from the ground to the unknown girl. He barely knew her, hell, Shawn didn’t even know her name, but his heart stopped and he could barely breathe when she decided to leave.

She looked up in wonder, observing him with slight worry in her eyes, another thing he found endearing.

“I have that exam in an hour. Gotta get to my bus on time.” She shrugged, giving him a tiny wave as a means to say goodbye.

Shawn needed more time with her. He needed to talk to her, to get to know her, to at least find out her name. For some reason he couldn’t even fathom, Shawn felt drawn to this stranger, this girl who didn’t seem to know or give a damn about who he is. She is the type of people he surrounds himself with – people who are grounded and will keep him human. He wouldn’t admit to it, but she was also a beauty he couldn’t part with for reasons not of the mind, but of the heart. He knew it wouldn’t be a smart idea to get involved with someone now, not when he was under contract to be with someone else and so publicly.

However, when she made a move to leave, Shawn had to react before his heart completely stopped.

"I'm guessing you need a ride?" His voice was soft-spoken and mellow, sending a warm glow throughout Y/N’s body.

"Taking the bus won’t kill me, but thanks for the offer." Y/N smiled, waving at the café’ window. Shawn grabbed a twenty and left it on his table quickly, pointing at it in hopes of someone coming out to take the money for he had no time to pay for it right now. Shawn had decided to get in his car and chase after the girl who had started her walk to the nearest bus station, her determined walk noticeable and distinctive.

“You said you’ve been working all night, right?” He talked loudly, needing her to hear him, as if she could miss a car like his slowing down beside her or the doe-eyed guy nearly shouting at her through his open window.

“Yeah. So?” She stops, crossing her arms over her chest, uncertainty in her eyes. She looked at Shawn with such confusing emotion that he could hardly breathe when he allowed himself the luxury of staring into her eyes. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think she knew him for years, that they have history, that they’ve met in a previous life. The look in her eyes and the feeling he’d get in his heart when he’d meet her gaze? It felt like more than two strangers talking.

“Don’t want to fall asleep on the bus and miss your stop, now do ya?” Shawn tried, unsure how to convince her to let him drive her.

“I’d also prefer not to be killed by the seemingly kind stranger who offered me a ride.” She cocked an eyebrow, starting to walk again which forced Shawn to press down on the gas pedal lightly.

“My name’s Shawn and I promise I’m not a killer, just a big supporter of education who has nothing better to do than help a girl who looks like she could use a kind gesture after a hard night.”

Y/N stops again, rolling her eyes at the sky before letting out a deep breath she didn’t know she was holding. Was it wise to get into a car of a man she knew for less than an hour? A handsome stranger that could easily turn out to be a Ted Bundy she found herself attracted to?

Definitely not wise, she thought as she opened the passenger door and sat inside.

"Cute name." she smiled shyly.

“I’m Y/N.” She tells him, putting on the seatbelt before looking into his whiskey brown eyes.

“Your name is cuter.” Shawn’s crooked smile made her heart flip. The wind gently brushed his curls as he kept his window open, the breeze grazing his face, almost soothingly.

This is what he needed though, some adventure. Some risk. Some danger. Giving a ride to a girl he met didn’t constitute as adventure, risk or danger, but being seen doing so? Definitely.

She types in the location in his GPS, leaning back in her seat as the radio fills the silence. Nearly choking on his own saliva, Shawn changed the song he had recognized just by the first few beats, before Senorita could blast through the speakers.

“So, uh…what kind of music do you like?” Shawn asked awkwardly, feeling her gaze upon him not a second later. It’s as if being set on fire, but not in the way it hurts the skin, rather puts the soul on a path worth taking.

“Classical mostly. Old rock music too.” She responds, receiving a hum from Shawn in response. He relaxed visibly, knowing there’s a much lesser chance that she’d know he’s Shawn Mendes if he’s not what she usually listens to.

“You seem like a pop-rock kind of a guy.” She assumed, lifting her left eyebrow quizzically, waiting for him to agree or deny.

Shawn couldn’t hold himself back from smiling widely, nodding before sparing her a quick glance. “Nice guess.” He adds, noticing her cheeks redden, not nearly as bad as his, but enough to know she’s not indifferent.

“So, you’re a med student or a method actor?” Shawn chuckled, catching her playfully rolling her eyes at him and his stomach flipped at the gesture. She looked cute even annoyed with him and he knew he’d love to annoy her for a really long time if she’d let him.

“First one would be right!” She exclaimed, pressing her lips together as she turned to the side, looking out the window instead of him.

“That’s pretty impressive! Beauty and brains? It’s every man’s dream.” Shawn told her honestly, at least from his perspective. He had already found himself on her hook, wanting more and more all the while knowing he’ll soon have to leave her at the university and in less than a month, he’d leave the continent as well.

“You might be the only guy thinking that. It feels the day I started med school, I signed some invisible contract where I was doomed to be lonely and friendless. I never have time for friends or relationships. When I’m not in class, I’m working or studying. If I do have free time, I’m usually exhausted to the point of just curling up and watching Netflix. Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it.” She bit her lip, eyes everywhere but on Shawn.

She didn’t know why she told him this, something she’d been carrying around on her shoulders for so long. She barely knows him, yet Shawn just oozes good vibes and trustworthiness that she couldn’t help herself. It’s been a while since she had someone to be genuine with, so what’s the harm in oversharing with a stranger she’ll likely never see again?

“If you’re passionate about something, it will often demand you abandon all else. There will be times where you’ll wonder why you ever did it, why you’ve made such a decision as if you didn’t know it would be like this…you did, I know you were aware it would be hard and let me tell you, all the good things in life are hard and demand sacrifice and once you’ve got it, you’ll be reminded just why you chose it. Something happens and you’re reminded and you’ll be back in the right mindset.” Shawn tightens his hold on the steering wheel, aware he’s telling himself the same.

He’s lost the passion he used to have for music in the circus his team imposed on him and now he’s here, in the car with a girl he just met yet felt so incredibly connected to in comparison to the girl he’s supposedly dating that it was hard not to feel like life turned on him.

When he started writing music and playing it live, Shawn never realized how fake the public persona he’d have to create would be. He always thought musicians had free reign to be who they are, to enjoy life, but he’s received a cold shower of pure facts in the past year and he’s still struggling to come to terms with it.

“I really hope so.” She smiled, reaching out for his hand. She laid her palm gently on the back of Shawn’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before removing it quickly.

“I’m not gonna lie, I’m kind of bummed we’re already here.” Shawn sighed as he parked, looking over at the girl he wanted to stay more than ever. She wasn’t a stranger anymore, not even close. In his world, the rule states you’re no longer strangers if you’ve:

A) gotten drunk together

or

B) had a heart to heart.

“Bet you say that to all the strangers you give a lift to.” Her lips pulled to the left into a crooked smile, one Shawn wanted to make wider, brighter.

“Just ones I really like.” Shawn countered, smiling as well. It’s hard to resist a smile when she’s got her angelic lips spreading into the smile he wanted to see.

“You like me, eh?” She teased, coyly lifting an eyebrow as she lets her lips pucker.

“Never denied it.” Shawn raised his hands in a mock surrender, chuckling.

Then he moves closer with those eyes that look so deeply into her own, as if he could see who she is underneath all the layers she’s created to protect herself from the hurt. It’s like he sees her soul, the real Y/N and never in her life had she felt seen like she did with Shawn. He made her feel like she’s the only girl in the world and she knew then she’d never find that gaze in any other man’s eyes, never such intensity, raw emotion and understanding.

“As long as we’re clear on that.” She smirked, moving away slightly, not ready for what his eyes were telling her.

“Are you feeling better about the exam now? About everything? Because I meant what I said. You’ll be okay, even if it feels otherwise.” Shawn decided to diffuse the situation, the tension growing too fast for her to be comfortable with it, he could tell.

“About the fact that I’m not sure if I’ll ever find love or be the girl a guy would go to the ends of the world for?” She shrugged, chuckling dryly.

It’s much easier to make fun of what bothers her than face it head on. She’s been feeling so lost for such a long time that her coping mechanisms weren’t quite something most people are used to. But Shawn? He doesn’t even blink at her darkness. He doesn’t look away or shows he’s tired of her already. He doesn’t push her away for being so gloomy, he’s doing the opposite. He listens as if her words are golden, some elixir he's been waiting all his days to hear.

From what he says next she can tell he is thinking so deeply, already with a strategy that's several moves ahead of her. And in his words is a kindness, a concern that is so quick that, for him, it is natural. This attentiveness is a part of who he is and that is the most attractive feature Y/N’s ever seen in a man.

“You are though. I’ve known you for an hour and I’m already thinking just how badly I want to take you out and shower you with affection. You’re so beautiful, so raw, so fucking oblivious to your qualities that it makes me both angry and stubbornly certain that I want to change your view of yourself.” Shawn takes her hand in his, clasping it between his palms as his left hand, the one with a swallow tattoo, closes over hers. A tattoo like that would be hard to forget.

“I’ve found out that you’re intelligent, hardworking, ambitious, funny in a nonconventional way, incredibly brave for setting out on this journey, extremely good and devoted to helping humanity one person at a time, caring and you think of others even when you don’t have to. You were kind to me when I wasn’t to you, honest and open with your heart and mind…And that’s all within an hour of knowing you. And I desperately want more as creepy as it may sound.” Shawn’s words have made her eyes gloss over and she couldn’t stop herself from chuckling too.

When a woman’s sure she’s destined to be alone and that her perfect man isn’t real and then finds him when she’s given up on the notion – it’s a shock to the body. His smile alone burnishes her soul into a beauty it could never have achieved on its own. Before they met, both Shawn and Y/N were one, now they’re each a half, yet somehow so much more than they ever were before.

“I’m really glad I met you, Shawn. It’s truly an honor.” She managed to say before she leaned in so swiftly he had no chance to even move. Her lips brushed his for no longer than a moment, a single breath yet long enough to make him crave more, so much more. Just as quickly as they warmed his heart, her lips were gone and so was she.

He watched her walk away, her head bent as she stared at her shoes in thought, his heart slamming against his ribcage helplessly. He’d have ran after her, but he couldn’t afford some of the students recognizing him and snapping a photo. He couldn’t risk the world knowing he was living a lie, dating Camila on paper but already in love with a woman he was destined to fail in the long run.

Shawn should have let Y/N become a sweet memory he’d return to when the nights became too cold, too lonely to brave on his own. He should have let it be a fantasy, but he couldn’t. Whether he wanted it or not, Shawn was drawn to the same café the very next morning, hoping to run into the medical student who had captivated him.

[kaitoujokerscans]

The Night the Silver Cape is Set Ablaze CH8

<8> Battle Between Rivals

"Hmm, I don't get it..." In the Riviera HQ corridor, Joker tilted his head.

"Same here. Should we do a magic square or rock-paper-scissors like we did before?" Beside him, Hachi tossed out a random guess.

"The magic square and rock-paper-scissors... Ohh! I know!" Joker suddenly exclaimed.

"Joker-san, did you figure it out?"

"Yep, thanks to your hint. You have to combine the magic square and rock-paper-scissors for this puzzle. We just have to work out which one wins every time when going horizontally, vertically, and diagonally!"

"Really?" Hachi examined the numbers.

Joker took out a notepad from his pocket and copied down the 16 numbers. "First, going vertical. The leftmost column is {5, 0, 0, 0}, which works out to paper, rock, rock, rock. Paper wins. That means all the 0s lose," Joker said and crossed out the three 0s.

"Next is the second column. This is {2, 5, 2, 5}, making it scissors, paper, scissors, paper. Scissors wins here, so the 5s lose," said Joker, crossing out the two 5s. "Do the same for the third and fourth columns and X out the rest like this, see?" Joker crossed out the 2s in the third column and the 5s in the fourth column.

"I get it. So any of the numbers that lose here aren't the one we're looking for, right?"

"Yeah. Now go horizontally. Do the same rock-paper-scissors conversions we did with the columns, and..." He went across the rows crossing out one number after another, and in no time, there were only two numbers left out of the sixteen. The other fourteen were all crossed out. The remaining numbers were the 2 in the top row, rightmost column, and the 2 in the second column.

"Which of these two is stronger?" asked Hachi.

Joker puffed up as he answered. "There's still the diagonals, right? The line going from the top-right to the bottom-left is {2, 0, 2, 0}, rocks and scissors, so the scissors lose!" Joker crossed out the top-right 2 last of all.

"Which means..."

"Right. The 2 in the top row, second from the left, is the 'number that doesn't lose'!"

"I see now. That was incredible, Joker-san!"

"I got it because of your hint, you know. All right, time to push the button!"

"Okay! Right on!" Hachi jumped up and pushed the "2" button. There was a low beep, and then the clang of something unlocking. The door slowly opened, revealing the door of the safe holding the Riviera recipe behind it. It certainly looked like a sturdy door.

"Let's get to opening this thing up!" Joker pulled a giant electric saw out of hammerspace.

"Joker-san, what's that...?"

"Hm? This baby can crack open any door or safe. It's my custom Joker electric saw!"

"Then couldn't you just have used that from the start!?"

"Ha ha, now that wouldn't be any fun. A phantom thief uses his brain wherever possible when breaking in." Joker smiled from ear to ear, just before hitting the electric saw's power switch. After a LOT of noise and rattling, the safe was quite literally busted open.

Joker fished the recipe page out of the safe where it had been kept. But he didn't exactly look pleased. "Sheesh, what a letdown. And here I thought I'd finally get back at him for what happened with the Crimson Crystal."

What he said confused Hachi. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"This is where Noir works."

"Whaaat!? Really!?"

Joker picked up an empty popcorn bag off the ground and started to explain. "Yeah. After Noir quit being a spy, he ended up in charge of security at Riviera HQ. If you wanna protect an international secret, get yourself an international spy."

"That makes sense. So he got a job where he could put his spy skills to use... But then why is Noir not around? It's unsettling how there's nothing here."

"You've got that right. I thought sure he'd have a trap set..."

They looked around at the safe room again. It was stark empty, not even a desk or table in sight. Save for a small security camera in one corner, there didn't seem to be much of a security system at all.

"Well, whatever. Let's blow this joint."

Joker and Hachi were just about to leave, when...

The door that they had just come in through budged.

"It's gotta be Noir...!" Joker reflexively pulled out his cards. But the one who came in wasn't the person he had expected.

"Spade!"

"Spade-san!"

Right in front of their eyes were Spade and Dark Eye, who had opened the last door and entered the safe room. They looked surprised to see Joker and Hachi as well.

"Joker!?"

"Kyo kyo kyo!"

"Spade, what are you here for?""

"I could ask you the same thing? Wait, what about Noir...?" Spade asked, darting his eyes around. Apparently Spade had also learned about Noir's link to this place and had come to steal the treasure.

"He's not here. You were a step too late, besides. The 'Riviera Recipe' is mine!" Joker dangled the recipe page and waved it about.

"...Oh, so that's what you were after. Where's Noir? There's something I have to return to him," Spade said, taking an object out of his pocket.

When he saw what it was, Joker was shocked. "That's my Crimson Crystal!"

Spade held up the bright red gemstone and turned up the corners of his lips. "That's right. Noir left it with me because he wanted me to return it to you. But my pride won't let me do that."

"Pride? What exactly did Noir tell you?"

"Well..." Spade clammed up. Noir had said something that injured his pride, no doubt about it. Joker had some idea of what it was. Noir had stolen his treasure.

Then, realizing something, Spade inhaled sharply. "Now I get it. This is Noir's strategy."

"Strategy?"

"He damaged our psyche and provoked our anger, all so that we would come across each other like this."

"You mean he knew that we'd come here?"

"Yes, exactly. And we each have the treasure that the other wants..." Spade's gaze focused on the recipe in Joker's hand. He probably also wanted the recipe so he could put Noir to shame. And in Spade's hand was the Crimson Crystal which Joker had stolen from Kaneari. The two of them stared each other down.

"Joker, this is a great opportunity. How about whoever wins gets the other's treasure?" Spade shot an incendiary look at Joker. He recalled what Noir had said: "Go ahead and chase behind Joker forever..." I'll prove him wrong...!

Joker whipped out his cards and readied himself as well. "Fine by me. Let's do this, Spade!"

"Here I come, Joker!" Spade swiftly unholstered his Ice Shot and aimed it.

A low bellow droned through the dark sky. An enormous ship floated upon the endless night ocean. It was one of the world's most luxurious passenger crafts, Urban of the Sea. The ship, which was 3000 meters long, housed over 1000 guest rooms as well as all kinds of recreational facilities. With its own pool, restaurant, theater, multiple liquor lounges, an ice-skating rink, and even a rock-climbing wall, it was like an entire city stuffed onto a boat. It hosted over 3000 passengers per voyage and visited tourist destinations all over the world.

Tonight, this enormous ship was filled with silence.

The ship had been rented out to VIPs from the Kingdom of Lachla. These VIPs were staying in the best guest room there was, and it was in this room that the Lachla Crown was being kept under heavy security.

This guest room was near the fore of the ship. Spaced away from it, at the aft of the ship, was a huge structure. Though "huge" is an understatement — it was as tall as a five-story building. This cabin, with its obtuse angles, curved up to a circular floor at the top. It was meant as an observatory deck where one could survey the outside scenery. A man stood atop the observatory deck, his black cape fluttering. It was Noir. He was quietly awaiting Silver Heart. Soon, I can have my long-awaited revenge...

"So you're here..." murmured Noir, sensing a presence. A man had come up behind him. His white double-breasted suit was smartly buttoned, and his silver cape fluttered. His straight, upright bearing hardly suggested his age. This was the legendary phantom thief, Silver Heart!

"It's been a long time, Noir."

"Yes. I wanted to see you, Silver... or rather, you're Silver Heart now, aren't you?"

Strangely enough, Silver Heart didn't feel at all wistful as he observed Noir. He had certainly aged, but Noir's face hadn't lost the keenness from when he had known him as a spy. Silver Heart glared at Noir. "I heard, Noir. So you've become a phantom thief."

"Yes, I retired from being a spy. Because of you. Now I'm the head of security for a beverage manufacturer."

"Because of me?"

"You heard me. You ran away from me and kept being a thorn in my side..."

"You're right. I was probably running away from you... from my responsibilities as a spy. I couldn't put up with the ruthlessness of it anymore. I couldn't become as cold-blooded as you..."

"Heh heh heh, are you so sure that's the case?"

"What...?" Silver Heart continued to stare down Noir.

"We'll fight once more, with you as cold-blooded as you once were. Whoever wins the match can take the Lachla Crown," said Noir. He pulled the cloth off a table set up on the deck. Lying upon it was a crown studded with brilliant jewels. Noir had already stolen the Lachla Crown!

"I've already put the Lachlans to sleep. If you want this, you have to steal it from me."

"So that's what you're after..."

"This brings me back... you and I once infiltrated Lachla in order to destroy this. But it was your fault that the plan went awry. Now that I think about it, we've been at odds ever since..." Noir mused, his eyes focused on the crown.

But Silver Heart lowered his voice and spoke. "I will never again be like I was. There's not an ounce of spy left in me."

"Heh heh heh, humans don't ever really change. You're a cold-blooded spy. And if you aren't, you'll never be able to win against me..."

"That's not true. I'm going to fight against you as a phantom thief." Silver faced back to Noir and strengthened his grip on his rod. "Noir, our long-overdue reunion wasn't so emotional after all..."

"I expected as much. Here I come, Silver!" Not even a moment later, Noir kicked off the ground and lunged at Silver Heart.

The floor split open with a bang, and Joker and Spade plummeted down towards the floor below.

"Joker-san!"

"Kyo kyo, Spade-sama!"

Hachi and Dark Eye peeked down over the edge to see them lying on the ground, still squabbling with each other. The lower floor was a recreational sports center with a pool, exercise machines, a running track, and more. They let each other go, took their distance, and stood off against each other.

"Been a while since I fought you like this, Spade."

"Yes, but that's because you never take me seriously."

"Not true!" Joker took an advance notice card out of his pocket and quickly scribbled something on it. "Spade, I'm gonna take the treasure from you, no two ways about it!"

"Heh heh heh, now that's more like it. Then we'll face off in a minute-long match, like the one you lost to Noir in."

"Ghh..." Joker bit his lip bitterly. So Spade had known about Joker and Noir's match after all. "All right. I'll steal the treasure from you in one minute, no more than that!"

"And if you can't?"

"I can!" Joker pulled cards out of his breast pocket and threw them at Spade. "Emblem Fire!" The cards caught fire one by one and flew straight towards Spade.

"Ice Shot!" Spade used his Ice Shot to closely target and freeze the cards.

"Not bad! Emblem Fire!" Joker tossed more cards out. A flurry of cards scattered to every corner of the room, sticking into the walls and sinking into the pool. While Spade was shooting down the cards that were coming his way, Joker jumped to the side. He flipped around and leapt toward Spade. Once he was in front of him, he fanned out his cards. "Straight Flash!"

"Not good enough! Ice Shot Mirror!" Spade spun his Ice Shot around and made a small mirror of ice in midair. It reflected the light from the Straight Flash, blinding Joker.

"Gwah!"

"Ha ha ha! Your attacks are so repetitive!" Spade froze the pool with his Ice Shot, slid the blades out of his shoes, and skated onto the makeshift rink. "Catch me if you can!"

"Gah! Says the guy who only ever uses Ice Shot!"

Going after Spade, Joker stepped onto the makeshift rink. But he slipped and fell right onto his back with a magnificent thud. "Owwwww...."

"It's been almost a minute. There's no way I'm going to lose to you...!" Spade spun about on the ice and faced back to him. He was saying this not just about Joker, but about Noir as well.

"Say that again...?" Joker glared hard at Spade.

Spade was looking down at Joker with cold eyes. "Now that I'm standing before you like this, I feel a bit of pity. For myself. I hate how bothered I am by your existence."

"..." Joker listened quietly.

"Well, it's just about time. Fifteen seconds left... if you admit your loss here and now, I'll at least acknowledge you have the skills to be my rival." Spade silently pointed his Ice Shot.

But Joker shook his head with a derisive laugh. "No thanks. I'll decide my rivals on my own. And Spade, you're my rival in every respect."

"I'm what...?"

Just then, the ice under Spade's feet cracked loudly. "What!?" Spade involuntarily lost his balance. Joker immediately ran up to him and swiped the Crimson Crystal out of Spade's hand. At the same time, he pushed against the ice and jumped over to the poolside.

"Waaaugh!" The ice surrounding him split, and Spade splashed into the pool. Thoroughly soaked, Spade poked his head out of the water with a gasp and scowled at Joker. "W-What... did you do!?"

"It's simple. I set up my Emblem Fire inside the pool."

"You what...!?" Sure enough, when he looked at the ice, there were ashes from the burned cards. "...But the fire should have gone out when it was underwater!"

"Didn't you know? Gunpowder doesn't need external oxygen to burn, so it can stay aflame even underwater. There's a substance in fireworks that lets them keep burning even when they're immersed."

"You're kidding..."

"As soon as I saw the pool, I knew you'd freeze it over. That's why I shot Emblem Fire into it in advance. Then I just had to wait for the spot you were on to melt."

"You... predicted my attack..."

"Heh heh, you're pretty repetitive too," said Joker, spitting Spade's words right back at him. "Just as warned, I've stolen the Crimson Crystal in under a minute!"

"Ghh...!" Spade bit his lip and balled up his fists.

"Spade, you can challenge me any time," grinned Joker.

Just then, they heard a scream from outside the window. "KYAAAAAAAA!"

Looking out, they saw a blob of pink in the night sky approaching them at high speed. It was Queen, holding onto Balloon Gum.

"Queen!?"

Carried by powerful gusts of wind, Queen was hurtling their way.

She's going to crash into the window glass...! Joker used his Emblem Fire and Spade used his Ice Shot to break the glass, and Queen was forcefully swept into the building.

"T-Thanks."

"Queen, what's up?"

"Trouble. Noir sent out an advance notice. He's going to steal the treasure that Grandpa is after!"

"He's what!?" Joker and Spade exclaimed in unison.

Then there was a series of loud rumbles as reinforced shutters rolled over each wall and the ceiling.

"Oh shoot...!"

The three of them were trapped on this floor.

[intrulogical]

Worthy

author’s note: i will never, ever write a fanfiction ever again. ever. but anyway, this fanfic is just logan angst and remus helping him, and i never typically write stuff but i just like logan angst this much. BIG THANKS to the logang discord for beta reading (oh my poor tenses). specifically, big thanks to: elle, aj, jem, orb, ellie, anders, mac, reese, roan, remy, zippy and everyone else who read it before i got to post it! (i'm not sure if you read it but shoutouts to meg and lo too bc you two are cool)

pairings: Remus/Logan (can be viewed platonically or romantically)

warnings: Logan angst, morally ambiguous light sides & Thomas (I aimed it to be canon compliant but the sides are still Rude), glitching, self-deprecation, self-neglect, self-doubt, bruises, emotional breakdown, self confidence issues, crying

word count: 6242

summary: Remus stood nervously in front of Logan’s door, hesitant to knock as he held an ice pack in hand.

It was ridiculous, really. Remus wasn’t one who’d typically provide comfort for someone, but he couldn’t help but wrap his mind around what he saw earlier.

or,

Remus underestimates how neglected Logan is and attempts to help.

(ao3 link)

Remus stood nervously in front of Logan’s door, hesitant to knock as he held an ice pack in hand.

It was ridiculous, really. Remus wasn’t one who’d typically provide comfort for someone, but he couldn’t help but wrap his mind around what he saw earlier. 

While it had been some days since the episode was filmed, the tension that scattered the Mindscape was still incredibly thick. The general atmosphere had been so impossibly unnerving that even Remus felt discouraged to execute any pranks he had in mind because he was just that bothered. Even the “Light” Sides’ daily routine shifted. Remus hadn’t seen them do a Movie Night or eat meals together for a while, and despite how uninvolved Remus was with their problems, it disturbed him to no end. 

Something even more worrisome was what Remus had witnessed during dinner some time ago. While the sides didn’t gather during dinner like they used to, Patton still prepared meals for them to eat. Sadly, the sides refused to eat as a group and would simply grab a plate of what Patton prepared and walk right back into their room. Earlier, Remus joined Janus in grabbing something for themselves, and coincidentally, they ran into an uncharacteristically unkempt Logan.

As Remus was about to jab at how incredibly unlike himself he looked, he noticed something off about Logan’s neck-- there was a large splotch of fresh, discolored bruising that coated it. Janus and Remus both shared the same sentiment as they gazed at the logical side in unease, but Logan quickly detached himself from the scene, making a beeline for his room.

There was no mistaking it-- those bruises that covered Logan’s neck were identical to the bruises Remus witnessed manifesting right after Janus violently pulled Logan out of the episode using his cane. As the sides weren’t technically human, some of their injuries heal more quickly than usual, but their healing powers were heavily dependent on how much Thomas acknowledged their worth as a side. One would think it odd that Remus would be informed of the semantics of how a side’s health works, but as a “Dark” Side, he was well acquainted with how physical injuries would heal slower as Thomas didn’t value them as important as the “Light” Sides. 

And honestly, it was quite concerning that Logan, one of the more important “Light” Sides, suffered the same kind of neglect that Remus was experiencing.

Maybe that’s why Remus stood in front of Logan’s door. The realization that Logan was just as disregarded as him unexpectedly yet intensely haunted his mind. Despite how different Logan and Remus were in terms of personality, they shared striking similarities with one another, from the way they were treated by others to how talkative they both were. The thought of how Remus related immensely to Logan’s struggles resonated with him, and while he obviously couldn’t forget how poorly they treated each other in the past, he still aimed to mend their relationship for it to become more durable.

After much stalling and lip biting, Remus rose his hand and rapped on Logan’s door frantically. Remus couldn’t help himself; his nervousness mixed with his unending concern amplified his jitteriness. From the other side of the door, he heard a yelp from Logan.

“I apologize, I’m currently working, so I cannot accompany whoever--”

“Do you really think that’s going to stop me from barging in, Mark Zucker-turd?” Remus retorted, earning a disgruntled sound from Logan.

“Remus,” Logan said, sounding exasperated, “Can’t you simply forget about what you’ve witnessed a few moments ago? I assure you that I’ve got everything under--”

“Again, do you think anything you say is gonna stop me from barging in?” Remus replied. Logan was silent for a few moments. Once silent, there were a few things Remus didn’t notice before he knocked. On the other side of the door, Remus heard soft whispers as if there were imps scattered around Logan’s room speaking to him, maybe mocking him. While the voices were hushed, they spoke in unison, yet nothing about it sounded like a symphonic harmony.

Eventually, Logan replied, “Do you really have to?”

“Well, no, I suppose not, but none of my visits ever have a purpose behind them, do they?” Remus said, then continued with, “I also brought some ice.”

He heard a sigh coming from Logan, “Fine, you may enter, but I strictly prohibit you from staying for more than five--!”

Remus didn’t allow Logan to finish his sentence before slamming the door open with some vigorous force. Logan jolted at his thunderous entrance, even dropping his pen from the suddenness of it. Remus grinned widely at the logical side, shutting the door quickly as he sauntered toward Logan. “Catch,” Remus said, tossing the ice pack at Logan, and impressively, Logan caught it.

“Thank you,” Logan said in a deadpan tone, immediately pressing the ice pack against his livid bruises, “but you didn’t have to do that.” Logan finished and turned away from Remus to continue his work after he retrieved his dropped pen.

Remus was about to retort with some witty insult before the voices that Remus heard from outside began to chime in again, this time more audible as Remus was inside Logan’s room. Allowing himself to stay silent for a few moments, he decided to listen to the voices that echoed through Logan’s mess of a room. The whispers were just as overwhelming as Remus expected them to be; all of their voices synced together inharmoniously, creating an ear-piercing, bothersome noise.

“Pardon Thomas’s thoughts. I understand that they can be… overbearing, at times.” Logan said, noticing Remus’s disturbed expression, “They’re usually not this clamorous but Thomas has been deeply troubled lately— I’m sure you can understand. Then again, I’m assuming this is tame compared to your room, yes?”

“Well, yea, but there are definitely more voices in your room compared to mine. I’d rather listen to a kindergarten being burned down rather than this crap.” Remus stated. 

“That is a lovely image to picture, Remus.” Logan said sarcastically.

“You’re welcome, Dick-ola Tesla.” Remus replied, earning a tired huff from Logan. “What are you doing, by the way? Y’know Thomas isn’t planning to devote any time this week to work on something-- self-care and all that jazz.”

Logan whipped his head around, shooting Remus an incredulous look, “You are aware that I am in charge of Thomas’s memories, right? I’ve had to postpone my work for a few days for… confidential reasons. Because of that, I have to reorganize everything at this moment before the workload becomes too overwhelming.” Logan paused before continuing, “Not that I’d become distressed, of course. I find it rather exhilarating, actually… not that you care, anyway.”

“What?” Remus exclaimed, “No! No, all is good— it looks like you needed someone to talk to, anyway—“

“I was performing quite adequately without your company earlier, Remus.” Logan’s tone remained unwaveringly monotonous.

“Yeah, your gigantic bruise totally proves that,” Remus retorted and Logan stopped writing, “Are you trying to summon Janus or something? Look,” Remus fiddled with his sleeves, “I’m not one who usually provides comfort, I mean—“

“I do not need to be comforted.” Logan sneered.

“When did Thomas stop listening to you?” Remus decided to cut to the chase. The question must’ve set something off within Logan because Remus could hear the sound of paper crinkling. Remus decided to approach Logan to better converse with him, and that’s only when he noticed that Logan had ripped out a page from his notepad and crumpled it in fury.

“What, hit a nerve, dork?” Remus asked, but Logan still refused to look at him directly.

“Thomas still listens to me,” Logan said, but like the expression he had at the moment, his tone was doubtful, unconfident, maybe even mixed with a little bit of hurt. It pained Remus to see him in such denial, and his eyebrows even knit in concern as he observed that Logan’s hand began to shake.

“You know, Thomas doesn’t listen to me either. Then again, I do tell him once a week that he should drink an entire bottle of cooking oil… then again, he doesn’t listen to Orange—“ he saw Logan flinch, “—and Janus either, you know, before the episode, and they are both pretty good guys—“

“I am not like you or your friends, Remus,” Logan said, clearly irritated. “My methods of teaching have just been very difficult to comprehend for Thomas and the others, so I merely have to correct my flaws for Thomas to listen to what I have to say. That is all.”

“Dude, I know I’m just as crazy as Sweeney Todd if he were on crack, but that is seriously fucked up—,“

“I don’t need your input on how flawed I am.” Logan swiftly interrupted him, voice raised to the point it combated the millions of other voices that spoke across the room. Before Remus could reply, Logan grabbed a remote from the corner of his desk and pressed a button that turned on all of the televisions that decorated his walls. Remus had always acknowledged the televisions, but he never knew their specific purposes. 

Knowing Logan needed to cool off for a few seconds, he approached the televisions to observe what they were showcasing. All of the screens depicted different events that occurred for the past few days in Thomas’s point of view, ranging from when he achieved his new highscore in Word Crush to when he, Lee, and Mary Lee had a heart to heart about why Thomas was extremely glum during the reception. While it was somewhat a miraculous experience that Logan had access to all of Thomas’s memories, the audio that came from all the speakers and the voices that reverberated through the walls created an eerie dissonance-- Remus was surprised Logan didn’t seem bothered at all by the deafening noise. 

“I apologize for raising my voice,” Logan said softly. Remus almost didn’t catch it by how much it blended in with the blaring voices. 

“It’s alright, it’s not like you started World War Three or anything.” Remus said, in hopes of making Logan at least chuckle. He was met with no response. Remus chewed on his lip before carrying the conversation further, “Can I just say that all of these TV’s and voices are like, big stalker material? Like, you literally can witness any moment in Thomas’s life, whether he wants you to see it or not, and you can maybe even jerk off to--” “I aim to be as professional as I can be as I handle all of Thomas’s memories, Remus. It would be inappropriate for me to utilize them for personal gain.” Logan said, and Remus thought it was troubling how Logan could easily mask his emotions with a snap of his fingers. One second ago he showed distress, and now, he is indifferent. 

“You won’t even use it for blackmail against the other sides?”

“Janus-- Deceit--well, I am unsure of what to refer to him as since he didn’t reveal his name to me directly--is rubbing off on you.”

“So is that a ‘maybe’?”

“I won’t use it as blackmail, Remus,” Logan repeated himself, “Again, I am supposed to be professional.”

Remus rolled his eyes at him jokingly as he watched the different scenes that each television was projecting. On one screen, it showed the exact moment Logan joined the conversation as a person inside a textbox. The scene was highly unsettling as Logan’s digital form looked slightly comedic, but what was undoubtedly more unsettling were the reactions he had gained from appearing. Thomas was about to punch him, Roman had infinite eye rolls for him, Patton’s optimism was so evidently fake that Remus couldn’t help but cringe at his positivity. 

While Remus enjoyed the moments he spent with Janus and Orange (and maybe even Virgil despite his newfound spite for the “Dark” Sides), there were also some moments that Remus wasn’t so fond of remembering. Roman and Patton’s behavior towards Logan was reminiscent of the times Janus and Orange would both glare at Remus for being too insufferable. Or maybe it reminded Remus of the days they had to ignore him for being too intolerable. 

Logan and Remus really weren’t that different, after all.

“How do you cope watching footage of the others beating you up during every conversation?” Remus said, hoping it would get Logan to open up once more.

Logan stopped writing and shot Remus an unamused look. Remus noticed his grip on the ice pack had tightened as he viewed the television that showed the painful memory. “Last time I checked, I haven’t gotten into a physical altercation with any of the sides, and the closest I’ve gotten is when Janus forced me out of my textbox using his cane.”

“What I mean is, how do you cope watching footage of others shit talking to you? I would rather eat my eyeballs downed in superglue rather than watch any of this footage.”

“This is necessary for Thomas’s--,”

“Yea, yea, it’s very fucking important for Thomas. Y’know what I think? Thomas should just fuck off.”

“Real mature, Remus.”

“But aren’t you hurt at all? Thirty years of watching others insult you nonstop is kind of… overkill.”

If Remus wasn’t being observant, he would’ve missed it, but Remus swore he witnessed some items and furniture within the room glitch for a second. It was as if the furniture belonged to some dysfunctioning game and its material would transform into mere polygons for a few seconds. Remus’s eyes widened, but Logan looked unperturbed as if he didn’t see anything transform at all.

“Thirty years of organizing Thomas’s memories only prompted me to become more professional. Please stop trying to push this narrative that I feel anything negative when I have not felt, nor experienced emotions for that matter, at any moment in my life.” Logan said, voice rising again. This prompted the furniture to glitch one more time, and like earlier, Logan chose to avoid speaking of the elephant in the room.

“Well, I’m not pushing anything! I’m just asking a few harmless questions, that’s all.” Remus pouted, “But you do admit that memories like these prove that you haven’t been listened to for a long time.”

Logan sighed, stiffening a bit, “I…” Logan started, and his death grip on his ice pack is starting to worry Remus, “I suppose there’s no avoiding the fact that Thomas hasn’t been as attentive to my contributions as he was before but I-- I’m sure I can conjure up a plan for that to change. The others had made it understandable that I have been obnoxiously invasive for the past few episodes so if my hypothesis is correct, everything should return to normal if I become less overbearing for Thomas and become more passive while still being able to contribute to their discussions.”

Remus stood wide-eyed as he tried to process what Logan just rambled on about, only able to synthesize about half of it. Logan, with an embarrassed flush on his face, looked away, returning to his notepad, “I apologize. I intended to be less invasive yet ironically did the opposite just a moment ago.” he chuckled sourly to himself before proceeding, “You should probably go.”

“No!” Remus exclaimed, approaching Logan hurriedly.

“No?” Logan quirked an eyebrow at him.

“I’m going to stay until I…” Remus fumbled with his sleeves again, “Until I get to help you. You’re not doing okay, Logan. You’re hurting yourself.” Remus said, trying to sound as sympathetic as he can.

Logan, on the other hand, pulled a troubled expression, before masking it again. The glitches around the room were starting to return and the noise was becoming more unbearable.

“I’m not going to repeat myself, Remus. The only injury I possess at this moment is the neck injury you and Janus inflicted upon me. Other than that, I am doing satisfactory.” Logan said, his voice was wavering once more. 

“Logan, out of every side in this hell of a Mindscape, I can understand the feeling of distraught and pain you feel when you get dismissed by the other sides. Their treatment of you isn’t normal, and I cannot emphasize how much nothing about you is flawed or wrong like what the others imply--”

“I-- It’s interesting how my room is beginning to make you speak more logically--”

“You can’t avoid the subject, Logan.” Remus said, and Logan didn’t reply. Remus tried assembling a rational argument within his head, trying to recall anything he remembered from Orange about some weird philosophical lesson that he could apply at the moment. Then, he turned to his left, eyeing the largest television present in Logan’s room. On the bottom right of the screen, there was a red, flashing text that said “LIVE” which implied that whatever is being broadcasted on this screen was what Thomas’s current point of view looks like. And there, on the screen, was Janus, who was presently being summoned by Thomas.

And fortunately, an argument popped into Remus’s head.

“Okay, let’s think about this logically, since that is technically your gig, right?” Remus began, “If the others, including Thomas, stopped listening to you because you were too ‘invasive’, then why did Thomas begin listening to Janus even if he’d only met him once or twice before the episode was filmed?”

Logan gazed at him nervously, his hand reddening by how hard he was gripping the ice pack, “I-- I believe Janus offered some valuable points that would’ve contributed better to Thomas’s dilemma compared to the arguments presented by Patton and Roman--”

“Okay, you got it, but quick question: do you think Janus would’ve ‘improved himself’ if he were a little less invasive or present during that episode?”

Logan looked like his mouth has gone dry, “Uhm--”

“‘Cause if I remember correctly, you weren’t fucking around either during that episode. You presented the others with evidence to back up their arguments-- you practically did the same thing Janus did in this episode with me for when I first appeared! All of this evidence you have stacked up for some stupid hypothesis you formed is all so contradicting!”

“And what’s your point?” Logan glowered.

“This problem you have right now with ‘not being listened to’ isn’t something related to how invasive a side is or how much one talks. Janus’s situation is practically similar to yours, but isn’t it weird that he got listened to for the same reasons behind why you’re getting ignored?”

The thoughts were getting louder again as Thomas began to converse with Janus. Many of the thoughts complimented Janus, and while it exhilarated Remus that Janus was beginning to be more listened to, this only backed up the argument Remus was about to make.

“Don’t you think that maybe, maybe, the others are simply being a little bit too unfair about how they treat you? That nothing about you is wrong at all? It isn’t you who’s being unfair here, Logan, it’s the others! It has always been the others! These thoughts only prove that Thomas has been unfairly biased against you--”

“That-- that doesn’t make sense,” Logan says, and this time, he stood from his office chair. “The others have repeatedly informed me that-- that they know what’s best for me. They all share the same sentiments about-- about me, and-- and they’ve always made sure to showcase to me how correct they are compared to me, and this ‘unfair bias’ they have against me cannot be a possibility--,”

Logan’s saddened tone mixed with all the noises was just sheer torture to Remus’s ears. The thoughts that complimented Janus made it even more uncomfortable as it clashed with Logan’s self-deprecating sentences. “But what if it is? You need to value yourself a little bit more, Logan. You’re ruining yourself by letting others overpower and dominate you as if you were some kind of utility--”

“I told you, I am doing just FINE.”

Right as Logan’s voice began to reverberate across the room as if it was there to mock him, the room proceeded to taunt Logan with a thought that was somehow  louder than the rest of the voices. The voice seemed to articulate itself in a less frantic pace, mimicking Thomas’s voice exactly as if he was in the same room talking to them. It spoke,

“Y’know, with how more understanding and intelligent Janus is compared to Logan, he might be an even better logic than Logan himself.”

And with that thought alone, the whole room, including Logan, began to break and dematerialize. The glitches returned violently, not only warping every single item and furniture in the room but also transforming the ceiling and the carpet as if the room was going to destroy itself. No object in the room was safe from the glitch’s grasp as colors flash rapidly while everything practically warped and tremble viciously. The voices all mutated into a staticky mess as the pitch and tempo of each voice were altered to make them sound like something you’d find in a horror movie. The televisions were altered as it pixelated every memory and horribly modified each person’s face to look like it was something a demon would spawn.

And Logan. Logan. He was on his knees with his hands on his ears, trying to block out any distorted sound that tried to mock him. He himself wasn’t even free from the glitching as he was subjected to the same kind of torture every object in his room was experiencing. It was as if this glitch monster thingy, whatever it was, viewed Logan as just as worthless as the things he was surrounded by. He was viewed as something lifeless; he was viewed as an object, as a utility.

Remus didn’t realize he was frozen with panic until he began to hear distorted screams coming from Logan’s lips. He quickly rushed over to Logan’s side anxiously, mumbling incoherent nonsense as he tried to think of any possible solution for this unsettling situation.

“Get me out,” he eventually heard Logan say. Without any hesitation, Remus placed both his hands on Logan’s shoulders, ignoring the massive amounts of shock and pain he felt as he touched the spiky glitches, and he used every bit of his power to force him and Logan to be teleported elsewhere.

//

The moments in between sinking out and materializing again were always a blur. While it tended to calm down any rampant emotions that overwhelmed a side before they dematerialize, it was also a moment used by the sides to process everything that’s happened.

It was difficult for Remus to glance at Logan, but the grip he had on his shoulders were good enough to convince him that Logan hadn't dissolved or vanished. While Remus already deduced that Logan was negatively impacted by the immense neglect he received from Thomas and the others, he didn’t realize how horrendous their treatment had gotten. Remus even feared that there was a slim yet probable chance that within the next few months, Logan could be part of the “Dark” Sides.

Ignoring the pessimistic thoughts that emerged, Remus tried to focus on bringing he and Logan into his side of the Imagination. At first, he thought that their lounge would have been sufficient enough, but seeing how Logan would visibly flinch at the mention of Orange, Remus thought his room would be a better option. He was also able to accomodate Logan better if he chose the Imagination; nothing about their lounge was comforting besides their soft couch.

Before he entered the Imagination, he tried to manipulate its interior to turn it into something more reassuring for Logan. If Remus remembered correctly, Logan was quite passionate about astronomy, and he thought it’d be appropriate to bring Logan to a place he would find comforting: outer space.

Eventually, they materialized into the room. While Remus’s knowledge on stars and planets were limited, he was hoping that his assumptions on what outer space would be like were enough to appease Logan. Inside, the Imagination stretched infinitely and no place was left unadorned. Although he did not recall the names of every planet nor what they looked like, Remus challenged his creativity to produce his own kind of system of planets and stars. Additionally, he lowered the gravity levels of the room just to add to its realism, and now, he and Logan were floating amidst all of his beautiful creations.

When Remus was sure that everything in the room was executed perfectly, he finally risked glancing at Logan. Logan’s eyes were shut tightly but that didn’t prevent any teardrops from leaking out of his eyelids. As his eyeglasses were left behind, water droplets began to slip out of his eyes freely as it floated around the two of them. Logan even let out a painful whimper as he cried woefully to himself.

“I…” Remus spoke as his heart wrenched at the sight of the crestfallen side. Remus was fearful that he might say something inappropriate so he allowed himself to stay silent for a few moments for him to think. Eventually, he spoke in a reassuring tone, “Can I-- Is it okay if I touch you?”

Logan sniffled before he nodded, prompting Remus to raise his hands and place them delicately on Logan’s cheeks. He thumbed Logan’s tears away as it gradually floated away from his face. Eventually, Logan slowly opened his eyes, blinking away some tears that still remained. 

As there was barely any distance between Logan and Remus, this was the only time Remus could properly study Logan’s face. The bags underneath his eyes were excessively darkened as his eyes sagged wearily, and the fact that he was crying didn’t help ease his exhaustion. His hair was incredibly greasy; it was as if he hadn't given himself time to prioritize his wellbeing over the tiresome work he aimed to accomplish. Moreover, the livid bruises that coated his neck were still swelling as the ice pack Remus gave barely did anything to soothe it. 

Overall, Logan looked exhausted. 

“Remus,” Logan said, his throat slightly parched. 

“Yeah?” Replied Remus as he felt Logan’s hands make their way to meet his.

“I’m sorry.” Logan said, averting his gaze away from Remus. “You shouldn’t have witnessed that. I dragged you into my personal issues and it is entirely--” Logan choked as he tried to withhold a sob unsuccessfully. “It-- it is entirely--”

“Logan, you’re allowed to be sad-- you know that, right?” Remus told him, and immediately, Logan’s face crumbled. The tears returned in full force as he placed his forehead against Remus’s chest and began to sob once more. Remus gently wrapped his arms around Logan, pulling him closer as he felt Logan’s hands grip his arms firmly.

“I-- I just-- I’m just not used to this.” Logan uttered.

“No one is, to be honest. Emotions can be a bitch sometimes.” Remus replied.

Logan huffed out a wet chuckle, “Don’t I know it.”

The two of them huddled close for a few minutes, Remus allowing the repressed sadness Logan had within to burst out. As Logan let the long overdue tears shed, Remus rubbed soothing circles on Logan’s back, hoping it would provide Logan with ease and comfort. 

Part of Remus was exceptionally disgusted by how much the others’ treatment of Logan has completely ruined him, and the fact that they weren’t aware of their own cynicism only aggravated Remus further. There was an urge in the back of Remus’s mind to pardon himself, grab his mace, and utterly bash the other sides’ head in, and if it weren’t for Logan’s mental breakdown, he would’ve fulfilled that temptation by now.

Instead, he pulls Logan closer to him.

Eventually, after Logan’s sobs subsided. There were a couple sniffs here and there, but it seemed like Logan had slightly calmed down. 

Logan was also first to break the silence between them, “I wasn’t aware of how crying like a newborn baby kinda feels relieving.”

Remus chuckled at him, “So you wouldn’t mind telling me about what other thoughts you’ve been repressing in there?” he paused, “Of course, if you feel uncomfortable then I won’t push you--,”

“No, no… I--,” Logan let Remus loosen his grip on him slightly for them to see each other eye to eye. “I don’t think there’s any point to withholding information from you anymore. You are already aware of how… incompetent I am.”

“I don’t think you’re incompetent for having emotions, Logan.”

“But then why do the others make it feel like I am incompetent?” Logan blurted out, “No matter how many times I assume I performed something correctly or suggested an idea that I thought was valuable, the others still convince me that I’m wrong or-- or I’m just grabbing attention. Initially, I thought that they were wrong, but then Thomas started to agree with the others every time we had an argument and it really didn’t take many instances for me to begin questioning my worth.”

Remus’s eyebrows knit together in concern, “Other people’s opinions on you don’t dictate your worth, Logan.”

“Then why are they so insistent to prove how-- how-- how fucked up I am?” Logan asked, tone distressed. Consequently, Logan took a deep breath to compose himself. “I’m sorry, I can’t-- I’m just at a loss of what to do. Growing up, I thought I was somewhat like… Thomas’s savior, his key to success, but then it turns out that all my efforts were just a waste.”

“That career change did a number on you, didn’t it?”

Logan’s lips thinned nervously before he replied, “I hate to admit it but I don’t think any moment in my life could amount to how pained I felt when I realized that Thomas didn’t want to pursue a career in engineering or astronomy. I began to question things that I thought were true. Did Thomas even genuinely listen to any plan I told him about? Did he think I was wrong? There were just so many questions, so many hypotheses to prove, and it bothered me so much because you know how I strive to be the most perfect I can be for Thomas. But how can I be perfect if everything I do is brushed aside or ignored?

“But I didn’t think they were wrong for— for neglecting me. They’ve already proven to me how beneficial they are to Thomas and how-- and how righteous and just and correct they are compared to me. It just felt wrong to think of them as wrong when I’ve already accepted the fact that it was me who was being a burden to them all this time. I just… I’m not used to it. I aim to be as perfect as I can be, I want to improve myself, but why does it feel like nothing I do is good enough? 

“And sometimes, I don’t know who is to blame. Is it them? Is it me? Is it both of our faults? If they say I’m wrong, and I feel like I’m wrong, am I really wrong? Are they capable of being wrong even if their insults and jabs resonate with me as if they were right? And if they were wrong, then how come I still feel like I’m a terrible side? Why do I want to believe they’re correct so badly?” 

Logan sucked in an enormous breath once he finished his spiel. While Remus was unquestionably proud and honored that Logan was able to finally open up to him, comprehending what Logan rambled to him was a whole other story. The sullen expression on his face wasn’t helping either.

“Logan, I…” Remus spoke, “I know nothing I say right now can magically fix this problem as if it never existed in the first place, but you, Logan Sanders, aren’t worthless, and anything the others say about you does not define your worth.”

“But why--”

“Why are they persistent? Well, I don’t know if you know, but the other sides aren’t exactly always so righteous and god-like?” Remus said and proceeded to sigh, “What I mean is, you need to value yourself a little more, Logan. You’ve trained yourself to listen to whatever the others are bitching about and  immediately think that they are righteous even if they’re probably just being assholes to you. 

“You’ve been so selfless and forgiving towards the other sides that you’ve ignored that you’re destroying yourself, Logan. You have listened to the others and prioritized them so much even if sometimes, the person who really needs to be listened to more than anything else is yourself. You’re worthy, Lo. You’re incredibly intelligent yet you’re so fun to hang around with. You’re so selfless and sweet and so lovable-- there are so many things I can say to convince you that you are worthy, but you also need to do your part in remembering that. Take care of yourself, give yourself some time to rest. You’ve punished yourself too much that it has made you exhausted. You have to value yourself more, Lo.”

And with that line alone, Logan began to shed tears once more, “I know I am exhausted, I just--” he cried, placing his forehead against Remus’s chest once more, “I just don’t know how to stop thinking about my flaws and my mistakes and everything that is wrong about me.”

“Honestly? Same.” Remus said, “It’s never an easy process, Lo.”

“How-- How did you get over it?”

“Well, I had Janus ‘self-care is my number one priority’ Sanders, so that’s one thing.” Remus was glad to hear that that made Logan snort, “Another is… time. And distancing yourself from the people who hurt you.”

“The others haven’t hurt me.”

“They have. It’s okay to admit that the people who you love are capable of hurting you and are capable of being wrong. It’s perfectly normal.” Remus said. 

The arms that wrapped Remus tightened, “You don’t know how much I needed to hear that.” Logan admitted, “I… Remus I just-- Thank you. Thank you so, so much.”

“You’re welcome, dork.” Remus replied, smiling softly as he looked at Logan, “Well, actually, you’re only welcome if you do take a break, okay? If my efforts in comforting you have all been useless and I see you working your ass off the next day, then fuck you, I guess.” Remus joked, and Logan snorted again. 

“I’ll try my best.” Logan replied. They floated in a comfortable silence again as they had their arms wrapped around each other. Logan allowed himself to cry, allowed himself to feel, and Remus couldn’t help but feel immensely proud of Logan. 

Like earlier, Logan was first to break the silence once more, “If I… If I were to take a break, would it be alright if I spend it with-- with you?” Logan said, looking up at Remus again, “I’m just scared for the glitch thing to happen again and I think I’d feel much— much safer if I were with you.”

Remus blinked at him once, then twice. Then, the biggest, toothiest grin appeared on Remus’s face. “Of course, Jimmy Nude-tron, you don’t have to be all shy about it! We’ll have the best sleepovers and dissect bodies together and-- and--,”

“Stargaze?” Logan suggested.

“Yeah, hell yeah! We’ll stargaze so fucking hard that Janus is going to be jealous.” Remus exclaimed, making Logan chuckle, “Plus, I can even allow you to make your own planets and stars, if you want! I have no fucking clue what astronomy is really about so maybe you can give me a few lessons here and there.”

Logan eyebrows raised, “Even if you lack knowledge on astronomy, you made such a magnificent replica of outer space, Remus.”

Remus couldn’t help but flush at the compliment, “Oh, uh, thank you, Swell-phaba Thropp.”

Silence.

“That was a horrible nickname.”

“Agreed, pretend I didn’t say anything.” Remus said. While he thought that they'd calmed down enough and were ready to exit the Imagination, there was one more thought that he had in the back of his head that he felt needed to be addressed.

“I don’t mean to bring the mood down but… are you going to tell Thomas about the glitching?” Remus asked, and he physically felt Logan stiffen anxiously. 

Remus was about to apologize before Logan interrupted and spoke before he could, “Maybe. But not now. I don’t think I have the energy or the motivation to see him at the moment.”

Remus nodded in understanding, “While I would advise you to do everything at your own pace, I do want to remind you that you shouldn’t stall it too much either because we don’t know what those glitches can do, Lo.”

“I know, Remus. I promise I’ll tell him when I’m ready.”

“Good.” Remus said, “Do you want to get out of the Imagination now?”

“If… If it’s okay with you, I’d like to stay here for a few more minutes.”

“That’s perfectly gucci, dork, take all the time you need here.”

And the two continued to float, arms still remained wrapped around each other as it seemed like they didn’t want to let go. While they were too preoccupied with one another to observe the changes in their surroundings, in this very precious moment, the stars that encircled them seemed to be shining brighter than ever before. 

[transboykirito]

You comparing Kirito to Robert Pattinson is extremely funny but it also brings up the line of thought; what if Kirito ALSO just lied in interviews and so did Asuna

this is one of the randomest things i've ever written, i don't know why but i literally couldn't let go of this idea so skdjfhjksdhf

Kirito shifted uncomfortably in his seat, eyes wandering to everything but the ever-inquisitive group of friends standing in front of him. Curse them for making him add them to his friends' list, if he hadn't done that, they wouldn't have tracked him down on the map.

They wouldn't have noticed he'd spent the night at Asuna's.

"Details!" Klein grabbed his gloved hands, pleading, "What happened? I thought you two hated each other! Now we hear the two of you are... Are... Well, you're... What are you two doing exactly?"

Kirito shook his hands free from the older man's grasp, "She discovered a glitch that replicated an item and she thought I might like to use it for my dual wielding, that's all."

Lisbeth seemed unconvinced, "So why'd you spend all night there, hm?"

"If there's a glitch like that, surely she would've told me about it..." Agil scratched his chin thoughtfully and Kirito shrugged, trying desperately to play it casually. Oh, Asuna was going to kill him.

"Uh, it didn't work," he waved his hand dismissively, trying to turn for the door, "She felt bad for calling me out over nothing so she made dinner and I rested there for the night. I've been levelling in dungeons late at night so I was tired. Nothing more to it than that."

There was so much more to it than that.

It was only so long before Argo caught wind of it - rumours fly fast in Aincrad, apparently, especially when it concerns two of the most infamous players in the game.

Kirito was caught off-guard by the info broker as she made her morning rounds through the floor. Before he could even say hello, she'd already whipped out a notepad and forced him into a seat at a cafe.

"Kii-boy, confirm or deny the rumours." She looked to him expectantly.

"What rumours are you talking about?" He asked.

Her eyes seemingly glimmered ominously, "You know the ones. About you and The Flash getting cosy at her place on the sixty-first floor? That's not ringing any bells?"

"N-no, of course not!" He threw his hands in the air, "There was nothing cosy about it! She just... wanted to show me a glitch she found, that's all."

"What kind of glitch?"

"It didn't work anyway, so..." Kirito scratched the back of his neck.

A tell.

"Come on, Kii-boy, tell the truth. I'll tell you all the info I have about the seventy-fifth-floor boss if you do!"

Kirito gulped, then sighed, then dropped his head low to speak in confidentiality, "If you absolutely have to know, you need to swear you won't sell this information for at least a week from today. For our privacy."

Argo nodded enthusiastically and Kirito could see her entire face light up with equal parts excitement and mischief. Kirito leant forward so nobody else would be able to hear.

"It's about the real world, which is why you can't tell anyone. Asuna has reason to suspect that in the real world, she was romantically involved with someone else in the guild, I really shouldn't say who-"

"Tell me!"

"Ah, it's not important, really. Besides, that's Asuna's business, not mine."

"Romantically involved..." Argo wrote down notes furiously until Kirito feared the pencil might run out of durability, "What about you, then, Kii-boy? Where do you fit into all of this? A love triangle, perhaps?"

"Nothing of the sort. I was only there because... Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to tell you now..." he shot her a glance, "There's a setting, deep in your menu, I wouldn't know how to find it myself, but it grants the player the ability to-"

"I already know about that," Argo sighed in exasperation, "Some players found that just a few weeks into the game."

"They did?" Kirito tried not to look shocked. All this time, the Ethics Code had been right there without him knowing? How long had Asuna known about it? How had Asuna known about it - she certainly didn't seem like the kind to associate with the kinds of players who would make use of that sort of information.

"The max skill level menu?" Argo shrugged lightly, "It seems like it's part of the admin menu that somehow glitched into the regular player menu around the same time the logout button disappeared on launch day. A few players used it on the lower floors, but it's glitchy as hell and the skills reset to zero if you misuse a sword skill. It totally sucks."

Kirito nodded his head, blush creeping down his neck, embarrassment mixing with cluelessness, "Right, right. I think Asuna said something like that. Of course, I'd never use it, but... Certain other players might be. Some people moved through the ranks suspiciously effortlessly these last few weeks. I can't name names, of course."

"I think I know who you might be talkin' about..." Argo flipped through her notepad to a list of names, "Thanks for the help today Kii-boy! I'll be off now!"

Argo practically leapt from the seat, breaking into a sprint across the cobblestone paths that lined the streets of the marketplace on this floor.

"H-hey! What about the info on the boss?" Kirito called.

Argo turned to him, skidding on her heels, "Kii-boy, this is my job and you're a terrible liar-" she scratched the back of her neck in a sarcastically over-exaggerated manner, "-Besides, The Flash told me everything about your little meetings anyway!"

"She did?" Kirito rose from his seat, running after the info broker faster than he'd ever moved in his entire life. Had Asuna really given away everything that easily? He thought she would've been more embarrassed and unwilling.

"I just asked her what the two of you got up to all alone in her room and the whole thing just came tumbling out of her. Honestly, I thought her avatar's head would start smoking from how fast she was rambling. With how red her poor face was too, yeesh..."

"Wait, Argo, stop, I can explain! She's lying, I swear! It wasn't like that! I'll explain everything!"

"What's there to explain?" Argo grinned at him, "She already told me you spent the night there trying on her equipment. You had trouble with the skirt because it's flagged for female avatars, but you figured out how to bypass it, right?"

Kirito stopped dead in his tracks. Asuna hadn't told Argo about... He shook his head to clear the thoughts. The whole game would think he liked wearing ladies' clothes, but at least they wouldn't think poorly of Asuna, or worse, start targeting him for stealing her away from her hordes of crazed fanboys. A small price to pay for their peace.

"There's no shame in it, Kii-boy, skirts are fun sometimes. You'll have to show me how that glitch works, the female armour in this game is dreadful."

With that, she was off, teleporting away before Kirito could ask any questions.

[aphrodites-law]

A Bit of Clarity 🍂 (12/?) The visions had started last autumn, a year ago now. It had caused a bit of chaos for some, a bit of clarity for others. Two days ago, Clarke Griffin had been perfectly fine managing both her Café and her stress. But now she was curious - so deeply curious about the vision of herself entwined with the aloof Lexa Woods that it was leading her to complete distraction. (ao3)

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8] [part 9] [part 10] [part 11]

A few minutes before closing time the next day, Clarke was waiting at the end of the counter for surprise customers. Gaia was already wrapping her scarf around her neck and Wells was pulling out ingredients for the next day. He had stayed much later today, going over resumes for their interviews tomorrow, but also reorganizing the kitchen.

After giving Gustus a call to offer him the job, Wells had realized that things would get crowded quite quickly. Gustus was a big man and the kitchen was on the smaller side, but it was workable with a different layout. Clarke thanked her lucky stars for her best friend's ability to adapt to situations, as she herself disliked big changes. Regardless of the possible growing pains ahead, it was an exciting time for the café.

Right after Gaia left with a tired wave, Wells found Clarke absentmindedly drawing the branches of the weeping fig. The last customers had left as well and the sun had already set. The mugs were clean, the plates drying, and the day's crumbs swept from the floor. It hadn't rained at all today; a small mercy given that Clarke couldn't stop thinking about her date with Lexa. She wasn't sure where they were headed, but heavy rain might've halted Lexa's plans and she didn't have the patience to wait another day.

Wells peeked at her drawing pad and sighed. "God, she's a beauty," he said dreamily.

Clarke snorted. His fondness for their Ficus was a running joke between them. "Weirdo."

Wells gave her a tired grin as he buttoned up his wool peacoat. He always looked so sharp in winter wear, whereas Clarke always felt like a bulky bear. She'd dressed up a little today - fitted dark pants and a knitted sweater with a nice scoop neck. Her boots were clean and if her hair's curls had loosened over the day, she had still clearly made an effort to look presentable.

“So, you had your vision," said Wells.

Clarke dropped her pencil. "Wh- I- what?"

"It was a few weeks ago, wasn't it? When you came in looking like you hadn’t slept a wink."

Shame gripped her. "Wells, I-"

“You’re looking more crimson than cranberry juice,” he pointed out with a laugh.

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t know how to bring it up," she said. She'd always felt guilty for keeping it from him, but it wasn't the easiest topic either. "Did Raven tell you?"

"Nah, she even deflected when I wondered aloud. You just started acting weird whenever someone mentioned visions. You hate lying, so I figured you didn't want to be asked if you'd had one."

Clarke closed her notepad. She should have known he'd catch on. "I didn't mean to be secretive. You know I would've told you the minute it happened, it just wasn't… family friendly."

"Yeah, I figured. It's good though? I mean, you're happy, right?"

It was a surprising question, though it shouldn't have been. Clarke hadn't really thought about it. It wasn't something she asked herself or even expected. For so long happiness had just revolved around the café. Finding the right name; the right building; the right theme. She'd judged her days based on their achieved goals and for a while it had been a thrill. And it still was - her work made her proud and it made her happy too - but it wasn't everything. She'd come to face that recently, and though the wake up call had been… unconventional, certainly, she was grateful for it.

"I am. I'm seeing her, actually. The woman from my vision. You'd recognize her - she's a regular."

Wells nodded as if he'd already put two and two together. “At Octavia and Lincoln's party I saw you talking to her. Then it clicked she wrote that article on Finn - I remembered checking her profile on the Gazette when it dropped."

"Yeah, she works there. She's writing a piece on the visions actually."

"So it's getting serious?" He asked hesitantly.

And really, Clarke couldn't fault his curiosity. She'd been so wrapped up in Lexa that she'd neglected their relationship and now he was unsure if he should gently prod or wait.

“It’s new and we’re taking things slow, but yeah, I'm hoping it'll work out. I really like her."

Wells looked over her shoulder toward the entrance and smiled. "Seems like she really likes you too."

Clarke turned around and saw that Lexa had parked her car and was just crossing the street toward the café.

"Are you coming in tomorrow?" He asked her.

Clarke whipped around, her cheeks flushed. "What? Of course I am. Why wouldn't I?"

"Dunno, you tell me." He laughed as he checked for his keys in his pocket. "Gaia and Harper have the early shift, in case you forgot. We just have those three interviews in the afternoon, but you already know that."

"I do know," she replied with a frown. "There's no reason I wouldn't be here earlier. I'm always here. What are you saying?"

He shrugged, entirely too proud of himself, and walked toward the back exit. "No one will fault you if you take a break. Enjoy your date!"

"I will! And I'll see you in the morning!" Clarke replied stubbornly.

"I'm sure you will!" he retorted, still snickering, before closing the door behind him.

A hand touched Clarke's shoulder and she startled.

"Sorry," Lexa said with a gentle smile. She'd put on her black coat today, the top buttons undone to reveal her sweater - a reddish brown this time, perfect for the fall. Her hair was down and her eyeliner perhaps more pronounced than usual. Clarke wondered if she'd applied it in her car. She looked beautiful.

"Hi, baby," she softened, forgetting all about Well's teasing. He didn't know what he was talking about. Tonight was just going to be a nice date. Some food, wine - whatever Lexa had planned. They were still going slow. Clarke didn't have any expectations other than enjoying their time together. She liked their pace. It was… frustrating at times, sure, but it was working. They had both opened up to each other.

"Hi," Lexa whispered before she inched forward so that she could kiss her over the counter. Clarke sighed into it, having imagined such sweetness all day long.

"Am I too early?" Lexa asked. "Do you need help cleaning up?"

Clarke brushed her thumb over Lexa's jaw. "No, I'm done. I just need to grab my coat and close up."

"Was that Wells who went out back?"

"Yes, he was being ridiculous."

"I thought he usually left earlier?"

"He does, but he's been rearranging the kitchen. I think he's worried Gustus will find it too small."

"Gus has an entire farm and acres of land at his disposal, but he sleeps in his shed because it's warm," Lexa said. "He won't mind."

Clarke beamed, delighted to hear it. "I'm going to give you Wells' number and you're going to text him just that. "

While Clarke left to grab her coat, Lexa worried her lip. "Oh but he doesn't really know me…"

"He will."

Clarke came out from the back with her coat and scarf on. She pulled out her set of keys. "He's my best friend and you're my-" she stopped herself. "I think you'd get along great. He loves theater, devours literature, and he already thinks you're amazing for taking Finn down. So don't worry about it."

"Well, that reminds me: Collins went ahead with suing the Gazette."

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

They made their way to the front, where Lexa opened the door for Clarke. "No. It'll never stand, but he aims to waste our time and money."

"Waste of time and money - that's been his motto since birth."

Lexa wrinkled her nose. "Let's talk about something else."

"Please. So where's my carriage?"

Lexa laughed.

* * *

Lexa may not have found a pumpkin to turn into a carriage after all, but her car smelled like apples and she drove so smoothly Clarke could've closed her eyes and imagined they weren't moving at all. She had never thought 'great driver' would do it for her, but here she was eyeing Lexa's hands on the steering wheel and feeling hot.

"How's the writing going?" Clarke asked, clearing her throat when her voice started off slightly rough.

Lexa took a left, which would've surprised Clarke if she'd paid any attention to the road. But all she could think about was Lexa's razor-sharp focus and how she yearned to be the reason for it.

"Good, I finished a first draft. My writing partner is looking at it for now. I need it out of my sight for a few days."

"Partner, huh?"

Lexa smiled as she kept her eyes on the road. "Echo. She wrote most of the FC&B article."

"Did you write for other newspapers before?"

Lexa nodded. "Two. I've been lucky, professionally. Smaller papers have always been more interesting to me, so I stayed away from national ones. I was able to climb the ladder a lot faster than some of my old classmates."

"The Gazette must've been a change of pace. New city, new job - I don't think I could handle it."

"When they hired me I was so happy to be working I just threw myself into it," Lexa admitted. "I got the idea on the Mountain Men soon after, just from reading old archives about them. That kept me busy, so I didn't have time to worry about fitting in. It was nice. Exciting. It felt like falling in love with my job again. Then one day Echo invited me to grab drinks with other colleagues and… I realized things had fallen into place already."

"Costial is pretty magical like that," Clarke said with a smile. She loved it when Lexa talked about her time here. Sometimes it was easy to forget she hadn't even been here a year yet. Clarke remembered her first year in the city - how she'd felt like she'd always belonged here. How she couldn't wait to build her life here. And college had been fun, and sometimes she walked by the campus just for the nostalgia of it, but it was the years after that had really shaped her life into what it was today. There had been many tears and failures before the café, but she'd never once thought of leaving. She hoped Lexa felt the same.

One glance outside the window and Clarke finally had an idea where they were headed. They were quite far from the center of the city now, just a few miles away from Busy Moose Park and its lake on the outskirts. Lexa took the road that led to the park, but she didn't make the turn Clarke had expected and instead continued straight.

"Are we going to the factory?" Clarke asked.

The chocolate factory and its surroundings were certainly a sight to behold, and popular with teens because of its smells and aesthetic quality, but there wasn't much to do unless you brought a picnic. Which was unlikely to be comfortable anyway in this cold.

"Not quite," Lexa answered with a secretive smile.

A few minutes later she finally pulled over into a small parking lot, checking for Clarke's reaction as soon as they got out of the car.

“I know I said I’d take you somewhere more upscale, but I thought you might really like this place."

Because the factory was just a ways down the road and it was windy tonight, the bold smell of chocolate permeated the air. They had stopped in front of a rustic restaurant surrounded by a garden. Small lights glowed softly against the brick walls, complimented by the dancing shadows from a few lanterns. There was a patio with beams covered in twining vines, the plants and wisteria also covering the top like a ceiling. Powerful heaters kept the biting cold at bay, no doubt, making the entire place look like a winter fairytale.

It was the kind of romantic setting Clarke would have made fun of in front of friends while secretly hoping to experience it one day.

“How the hell have I never been here before?” She asked in astonishment.

With a hand on her back, Lexa led her toward the entrance.

“Did you know Icicle? Italian restaurant?”

“Yeah, that rings a bell.”

“This is it. The owner retired and her son took over - revamped the whole place from top to bottom and gave it a mountain lodge theme. He figured they should capitalize on the location more, especially the constant sweetness in the air. It just reopened a few weeks ago. Featured in the Gazette and everything.”

“Oh, that might’ve been when I was a bit angry at you," Clarke remembered and gave Lexa a teasing grin. "Deleted the app like it was some kind of statement."

Lexa scrunched up her nose, not too eager to remember that time. The hostess seated them inside at a secluded table for two. The light was dimmed and there was a candle between them; and even two squares of chocolate wrapped in gold foil.

After they took off their coats and sat, Lexa bit her lip. “It's not too much, is it?"

"Are you kidding? It's gorgeous." Clarke reached for her hand. "You're always surprising me."

A waiter gave them a menu and a basket of bread. They looked like mini baguettes and Clarke was temped to steal one for Wells.

“God, I almost forgot about this smell," she said, taking a deep breath. The chocolate from the factory still wafted faintly in the air, and mixed with the smell of food it had Clarke already salivating for dinner. "In college we used to hang out by the lake a lot. If the wind was on our side we’d always get a whiff from the factory. Not even edibles could beat that.”

Lexa arched a brow. “Edibles, huh?”

“Please, I know you’ve dabbled," Clarke scoffed.

“What makes you think that?”

“You have the vibe.”

“The pothead vibe? I thought I was unreadable.”

“Oh you have that vibe too," Clarke laughed. "But then there’s the tattoos, the plants, the way you write about nature. You’re curious, open minded, andyou went to a liberal arts college. You must’ve tried it at least once. I think that’s how you approach most things: don’t knock ‘till you try it. Am I close?”

Lexa looked away, slightly flummoxed. “It sounds like I’m more of an open book then.”

"Maybe that's a good thing…" Clarke offered with a hopeful smile, thumb caressing the back of her hand.

"Maybe it is," Lexa agreed.

They both picked the apricot glazed chicken with roasted potatoes, pairing it with a white wine. Throughout dinner Clarke felt such pleasant warmth, both because of the wine and Lexa's steady gaze on her. She was relaxed and unfairly charming; a great listener by all accounts, but also coming out of her shell when it came to her own past. Clarke knew it wasn't easy for her, which made it all the more special.

"In retrospect I should've figured politics weren’t for me when I started screaming at my television every time the news came on."

Clarke grinned, knowing the sentiment all too well. "Good thing you don't work for a newspaper or anything…"

Swallowing the last of her wine, Lexa gave her a playful smirk. "Local news. I can take the city hall drama. I actually enjoy it with my morning pastry."

"That I can believe. You always look so deep in thought when you read. Harper dropped a cup once and you didn't even flinch."

"Really?" Lexa asked. "Is there anything else I do that I should know about?"

The waiter stopped by with their desserts: molten chocolate cake for Lexa and a slice of pear tart for Clarke.

"It's not like I stare or anything," Clarke clarified as she grabbed her spoon. "Your seat just happens to be in my vicinity."

"Mm." Lexa smirked. "I guess I just pop up sometimes…" she trailed off, her tone heavy with implication.

She did this occasionally, but more boldly recently. Alluding to Clarke's vision seemed to greatly entertain Lexa.

"Ha, you're funny," Clarke deadpanned.

"Did I also crack jokes while I was kissing you - and I quote - everywhere?" Lexa goaded.

Clarke shrugged as she chewed on her tart. "Actually you were a lot more suave than you are now. Pity."

Lexa laughed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"Please, you're very proud of yourself. And it's not fair all I have to go on is your distaste for coffee." Clarke remembered how frantic she had been after her vision, her mind firing questions every second. “Did you know I went to a vision reader right after?”

It had been an impulse and she'd regretted it, but she figured Lexa was familiar with them.

"Really?" Lexa asked, surprised.

“Yeah, the one by the market. Becca’s Reading or something. I bailed at the last minute.”

“I actually haven’t spoken to one. I was toying with the idea, but it might be an entirely different article.”

Clarke grimaced. “They’re just opportunistic money grabbers.”

Lexa offered a spoonful of her cake, which Clarke took before plopping a bit of pear on top of it. The warm chocolate melted the pear in her mouth and she sighed at the taste. Lexa smiled.

“It’s a different point of view. Besides, listening to so many stories might’ve given them some valuable insight even if they opened a shop for the wrong reasons. If my job’s taught me anything it’s to not judge a book by its cover.”

"Hmm you're good at it - your job. And I'm not just saying that because you're wining and dining me."

Lexa looked bashful. "You know, I remember when you yelled at me to get over myself."

"Not our finest moment…"

"No," Lexa agreed. "But it was needed. Before that there was so much I wanted to tell you, but… couldn't."

"I know." Clarke remembered that feeling as well. After the vision she'd look at Lexa and be so certain there was so much left unsaid between them, yet neither of them knew where to start, or if it was reciprocated. "I should've let you interview me - just ripped off the Band-Aid. It would've explained a lot."

"I would've never made it past the first question," Lexa said. "Can you share what you saw, Clarke?"

Clarke smiled cheekily around a mouthful of her tart. "Well, I would hope that kind of confession would score me a date at least."

"Oh I would have asked you out on the spot," Lexa replied with a smirk.

Clarke gasped. "How very unprofessional of you."

"If you hadn't noticed, my professionalism hangs by a thread whenever I'm near you."

Clarke let out a small laugh. "Well, that's one thing I'm glad for."

* * *

After their dinner, Lexa suggested they walk in the park before it closed. It was cold but their coats were thick and the wind was minimal. Clarke had no desire to part just yet, and so took Lexa's hand in hers as soon as they left the car by the park's entrance.

They had a little less than thirty minutes before it closed, but enjoyed every second as they strolled by the lake. The half-moon was reflected on the quiet surface, and though there were a few other people, Clarke felt like they had just stepped into a world of their own.

Clarke nudged Lexa toward one of the Beech trees, its autumn leaves still clinging bravely to its thick branches. They settled beneath it, lying down on the soft ground where leaves piled atop the grass. Between the branches they could see some stars, and Clarke wondered if maybe the park could close and leave them be. There was nowhere else she wanted to be.

She heard some rustling and then saw Lexa look down at her, her face framed by her wavy hair and the stars above. She took Clarke's breath away.

"You're so beautiful," Lexa murmured, struck by a similar thought it seemed. "You have the kindest eyes and the warmest smile. It's the first thing I ever noticed about you."

Clarke reached up to kiss her, parting only when she felt Lexa's hand on her stomach. Even atop her coat and thick clothing, she could feel its warmth.

"I think you're drunk on wine and chocolate."

"Then you'll be relived to hear I'm a very sincere drunk."

Clarke giggled, which made Lexa's smile stretch in such a fond way. She pressed closer to her, the tip of her nose brushing against her neck. She kissed the small spot, as if to apologize for her cold nose.

"I wonder so much about you, Clarke."

Clarke hummed. "What do you wonder about?"

“I’ve spoken with a lot of people. Heard the visions about reuniting with loved ones, getting over addictions, graduating. There’s been some romance of course,” Lexa said. “Aden’s first kiss, though he couldn’t see his boyfriend’s face. Echo celebrating a wedding anniversary with her husband. But so few - even online in anonymous circles - so few like yours.”

Now Clarke felt warm again, mostly from the blush on her cheeks. “I don’t believe that.”

Lexa lifted her head from her shoulder. “Have you personally heard of any?”

“Raven saw Wells naked.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Okay, so I'm a pervert, what can I say?”

“No,” Lexa replied, tickled by Clarke's little huff. “You’re a mystery. You intrigue me.”

Clarke cleared her throat. “Well I’ve had a bit of a dry spell. I had flings, but… I didn't allow myself anything more. The café was taking up all my thoughts and for a while it worked for me. Then the days got long again, and lonelier… Raven said it was probably just my body wanting me to snap out of it.”

“And what do you think?”

Clarke did wonder about it then, or at least differently than she had in the past. It wasn't so long ago she'd asked these questions herself. She'd been so frustrated she couldn't discuss them with the person she'd shared it with, and here she was, lying right next to her in a bed of leaves.

She touched Lexa's hand on her stomach, lacing and unlacing their fingers, gently playing with them as she tried to make sense of everything.

“Have you never fantasized about a stranger?" She asked quietly, catching Lexa's eyes. "Someone who knows nothing about you and yet knows exactly how to make your body soar?"

“That’s not what you saw though, is it?” Lexa murmured. “I wasn’t a stranger in your bed. I knew you and you knew me."

Clarke felt her heart beat faster. She wanted so badly to kiss Lexa again; to feel her body against hers like the night on her couch.

"Lex…"

Their lips were just a hair's breadth apart now. To anyone else, they would've looked like they were kissing.

"How was it different, Clarke?"

Clarke swallowed, trying to find the words. “How? The way you handled me - needy and possessive, but tender and attentive too. Like you were in charge of my pleasure and you had to remind me."

She saw Lexa swallow and so continued, eager to share everything this time: "You said my name and it almost sounded like a prayer - like you couldn’t believe we were together. I never heard my name like that before. I never thought I could make someone feel lucky."

"God, Clarke, you have no idea." Lexa exhaled before closing the gap and kissing her. It wasn't like any other kiss they'd shared tonight. It felt like a promise, almost. Lexa tasted so sweet on her tongue and Clarke could only wonder if all of her was just as heavenly.

She cupped the back of her neck and felt herself throb with desire, her mind filled with both the reality of Lexa and the last of her vision.

"I can even remember the smell of us," Clarke sighed between kisses. "How sticky my skin felt, like we'd been in bed for hours."

"Clarke - fuck."

Clarke pushed Lexa on her back and cupped her cheeks, claiming her lips quite quickly again. She licked into her mouth and moaned at the silky feel of Lexa's tongue.

"Sometimes I'd try to picture us again but you'd disappear," Clarke continued, eyes closing when Lexa started kissing down her neck. "I wasn't sure if it was you anymore. But then you'd come back. I'd feel your hands, your mouth on me… lower, and lower…"

Lexa let out a groan and pinched the bridge of her nose before falling back on the ground, the leaves rustling beneath her. Something in the way she set her jaw made Clarke frown.

"Baby…" she said, tracing a finger over her cheekbone.

"Did you call her that?" Lexa asked without thinking.

Clarke retracted her hand and paused. A grin spread on her face. “What? Are you jealous… of yourself?”

Lexa glared petulantly. “No.”

“You are."

Lexa remained quiet, so after a moment Clarke poked her arm. “Well what about yours?”

"Mine?"

"I wasn't even in it - how do you think that makes me feel?"

Lexa shook her head. "You were in it."

"You said you were just standing in a random kitchen making coffee."

"Yes."

"So?"

They heard the echo of a bicycle's bell on the pathway and turned to the sound, but the couple soon rode away. Clarke looked at Lexa again, finding her staring at the sky.

“What are you keeping from me?”

A small smile grew on Lexa's face - but she remained tightlipped.

"How was I there?" Clarke asked again, deeply curious.

"The doodles," Lexa simply replied.

Clarke remembered that she'd found that to be a strange detail before. She didn't put up her doodles on walls and she didn't frame them. These had to be important. Something that made her identity unmistakable in Lexa's eyes. Sure it could be that her style was recognizable, but Lexa made it sound as if it was something else.

“Lex…"

She lifted Lexa's chin to catch her gaze.

“If I tell you, I worry it might not happen," Lexa admitted.

Clarke bit her lip, finally understanding. It was almost like saying a wish out loud - fearing it might not come true if you broke that single rule.

“You want it to happen?” She asked instead.

A breeze passed as Lexa looked at her intently, leaving no room for doubt. “Yes.”

There was no waver in her voice. Not even an ounce of hesitation. The sheer confidence set Clarke alight. She’d forgotten how it felt to feel so wanted. Whatever it was in that frame… Lexa clearly hoped for it in their future. The fact that she wanted it with her, and no one else, made her desire swell.

She leaned down and kissed her right against the grass and by the slumbering tree, forgetting all about the doodles. Lexa believed it was her - that was all that mattered. After weeks of being unsure of where they stood, if her feelings were even shared, she didn't need anything more.

Lexa wound her arm around her waist, her mouth still as hungry against Clarke's. When they pulled away, she pressed their foreheads together.

“I wish I could see us like you did," she murmured wistfully.

"What would it change?"

“Maybe… maybe if I knew I was good enough for you… If I was sure that I wouldn’t- that I wouldn’t hurt you-"

Clarke shook her head. "Don’t fill your head with thoughts like that. Let's just be here, together, and worry about the rest when it comes. I know it's hard for you, but this - us - right now… it's good, isn't it?"

Lexa nodded. "It's the best thing that's happened to me in a long time."

Relieved, Clarke tucked her head beneath Lexa's chin. "Then just be with me. You can be happy, baby. You have a right to it. Don't let anyone or anything tell you otherwise."

Eventually they made their way back to Lexa's car, neither of them interested in picking up their leisurely pace.

"I'm sorry we ended up walking so much," Lexa said.

"You fed me beforehand, so it's forgiven."

Lexa smiled. "Good to know."

Before they reached the parking lot, Clarke decided to ask what had been on her mind: "I know you said Costial feels like home to you; that you found your place here, but… do you see your future here? Because this is it for me. And I'm… I like you, Lex. I like you a lot. I don't want to be an interlude. I don't think I could take it."

"Clarke," Lexa stepped closer to her. "You're not an interlude, you're - God, you've been in every act of my life here. I don't want to go anywhere. I- I want to be with you. That's what I know for certain. Is that alright for now?"

"It is."

Lexa kissed her softly and then smirked. "I may not have had erotic visions of myself entwined with a hot local, but I still want to stay here."

Clarke shoved her playfully. "I don't even like you anymore."

They laughed the whole way to the car.

* * *

It seemed like a tradition already; Lexa walking her to her door while Clarke racked her mind for a way to linger. When they finally arrived she leaned against her door and sighed.

"Tonight was amazing."

Lexa hummed. "I'm glad."

"I'm definitely taking you out this weekend," Clarke said.

"You are?" Lexa asked, tilting her head to kiss her again.

Clarke closed the gap as she wrapped her arms around her neck. The kiss was slow; amatory, but as always it could not go on for too long before hands wandered.

"I hope you have sweet dreams," Lexa said, her eyes hooded and her lips slightly redder.

"Oh I will."

Lexa glanced at her mouth. "If I pay you a visit again maybe you could keep a journal close by. I'd love some notes on my performance."

Clarke rolled her eyes. "Remind me why I ever told you?"

"What? That we lasted hours?" Lexa husked.

Right. Clarke narrowed her eyes and let her hands slowly drag down Lexa's arms. Now, Clarke wasn't innocent. She knew fully what made her look good, even when her coat was buttoned up. She had let Lexa tease her and goad her about the vision all night, and she had kept her retort to herself. But no more.

She pressed her body closer to Lexa's, unmistakably provocative with the way their breasts touched.

“Make fun all you want, Lexa, but remember this: I’ve seen all of you while you haven’t seen an inch of me.” She felt Lexa’s hand tighten on her waist. “I’ve felt your body against mine. Your mouth on my thighs. I’ve felt your tongue inside me.” She glanced down at Lexa's lips and then back up, proud of the gobsmacked look on her face. “So you can tease me. You can push my buttons. I can take it. But you? You only have your imagination." She stepped back and gave her sultriest smile, "And trust me, it’s got nothing on reality.”

She turned around and quickly unlocked her door, then looked over her shoulder. "Thanks for the date, baby."

As soon as she stepped inside and closed the door behind her, Clarke knew she'd just played a dirty hand. But Lexa had teased her at all night and all was fair in lust.

With a wicked grin, too pleased by the night's events, Clarke took off her coat and slipped out of her shoes and socks. And because she just couldn't resist one last look, she walked to her window and waited. Finally she saw Lexa walk out of the building. She seemed unfocused, going right and then left, forgetting where she'd parked.

But then she stopped and turned around.

Clarke's smile fell. Just watching Lexa like this, seeing the effect she had on her… it changed something. She had closed the door in the spur of the moment - because they were good at testing each other. Because she had thought tonight should end there, on another game of theirs.

But she didn’t want to play anymore.

And maybe Lexa realized it too. She looked up and found her apartment's window.

Their eyes met.

Clarke reached out for the curtain, gripping it so tight her knuckles went white. She couldn't look away from those eyes in the moonlight if she tried. Even if the ground started shaking beneath their feet.

"Lexa-" she started before stopping herself. It had to be Lexa's decision. Clarke had already made hers. She couldn't call out to her. Not for this. Lexa had to choose.

Clarke held her breath, unsure she'd even be able to leave this spot if Lexa did walk away after all. Until-

Lexa bolted back toward the building.

Clarke watched her disappear from view and then heard her intercom. She rushed toward it and pressed the buzzer, her heart in her throat. Still barefoot, she pulled the door open and waited. Footsteps thundered up the flights of stairs, closer and closer.

Tonight had not ended. Not yet.

[athenasbloodyspear]

Say Something to Stop Me: Chapter 8

Writing Master List | Say Something to Stop Me Master List

Please note: This fic describes depression, anxiety, panic attacks, past/referenced non con and domestic violence. Please read at your own discretion.

Explicit Sexual Content. 18+

You wake slowly the next morning with golden sunlight streaming in your windows. You know it must be early due to the angle of the light.

Bucky’s limbs are tangled with yours where he lays on his back, your head on his chest. You take a deep breath in, savoring the smell of him and the warmth of his skin under your cheek.

It feels surreal.

You think back over the past year and all the ups and downs. You can’t believe how it all started, or that you’re going to end it tangled up with someone you never thought you’d have a chance with.

You were… happy.

You quietly disentangled your limbs from Bucky’s before plodding to your closet to put on a fresh pair of sweats. You didn’t want to leave him, but you were too restless with happy energy and didn’t want to wake him.

You quickly found a notepad to leave a message on the nightstand.

You looked too gorgeous to wake. I’m in the kitchen getting coffee.

After stepping out of your room and closing the door as softly as possible, you padded to the elevators and took them down to the kitchen.

You used your hip to bump open the door and found Steve sitting at the kitchen island, sipping a cup of coffee.

You both smiled at each other and you gave him a soft wave and a quiet “Morning” as you wandered over to the coffee pot to pour a cup for yourself.

“Late night?” Steve asked. His voice had enough of an innuendo in it that you whipped your head to look at him. He was smiling into his coffee.

“What’s that supposed to mean, Captain?”

“Nothing! Nothing.” He said, chuckling into his coffee. Your face was burning with a blush.

So, he knew what you were up to last night with his best friend.

Shit.

“I’m happy for you.” Steve murmured, smiling at you over the rim of his mug. “Both of you.”

“You are?” You questioned, snagging your cup of coffee and spinning to walk over toward where he sat on the counter.

“Why wouldn’t I be? I care deeply about both of you.”

“I don’t know. I just figured you’d think it was a conflict of interest or something. That it will distract us on missions.”

Steve laughed then, setting his coffee cup on the granite. “You’re both too smart to let it completely throw off your focus.”

You hummed in response, taking a deep gulp of coffee.

“I should thank you, really.” Steve murmured.

“Thank me?” You questioned.

“It’s been… it’s been entirely too long since I’ve seen this side of Buck.” Steve sighed, his shoulders falling a bit as he stared at the countertop. “It’s probably been since he left for the war in 1943. This fun, flirtatious and confident side of him. I didn’t realize how much I missed seeing him like that, until I saw it again that day in Croatia.” He mused.

Your heart broke for both of them. So much of their youth and friendship had been torn and twisted and warped by forces outside of their control.

“You brought him back.” Steve said, lifting his eyes to meet yours. “You found my old friend inside him somewhere and brought him back. I don’t think I could ever thank you enough.”

You both had tears in your eyes as you stared at each other for a moment. You set your coffee on the counter and walked around the edge, throwing your arms around Steve. You held each other tight for a long moment.

“You had to bring him back before I could.” You whispered into his shoulder. You felt Steve’s shoulders shake a bit and felt small pricks of water hit the shoulder of your t-shirt as he let tears fall.

“Careful Steve.” A voice crooned from the door. “I don’t think Barnes likes sharing.”

Natasha.

You both chuckled as you pulled away from each other. Both of you wiped tears away with the backs of your hands.

“Morning Nat.” You said as you went to snag your coffee off the counter. Before you could, Nat walked toward you and wrapped you in a big hug, holding you close to her for a long moment.

“Morning.” She whispered. Somehow, that one word held volumes.

“Whoa whoa whoa” Another voice called from the doorway. “Didn’t know I was going to be interrupting family therapy at eight in the morning.” Sam chuckled as he walked into the room.

“You know us.” Nat called over your shoulder. “Always mushy gushy.”

She released you as Sam walked past you on his way to pour his own coffee, but not before he leaned in and gave you a quick peck on the cheek. “I would say my offer from last night still stands, but something tells me you’re not going to get bored anytime soon.”

You just rolled your eyes at him. “Good morning to you too, Sam.”

Just then the door swung open and Peter came bouncing through. He often stayed over on the weekends.

He winced a bit as he looked at you.

“What?” You asked, putting one hand on your hip.

“Nothing.” Peter teased. “It’s just going to be a while before I get the image of you wrapped around Bucky as he hauled you through here last night out of my mind.”

Before you could even process that thought, Tony strode through the door.

Did everyone always end up in the kitchen on Saturday mornings drinking coffee or was this a special occasion to see how embarrassed they could make you?

“Hey kid. I figured you’d still be sleeping after last night.” Tony winked at you, also heading to grab a coffee.

“So you all know already?”

““It’s kind of impossible for us not to know what’s going on when Megatron carried you through here last night with your faces sewn together.” This came from Wanda as her and Vision walked through the door to the kitchen. “That, and I’ve been privy to both of your intrusive thoughts about each other for the past two months.”

You groaned, and slapped a hand to your forehead. This was so embarrassing.

“ And the fact that Barnes hasn’t been able to keep his hands off you for the past month.” Nat chimed in.

“Or his eyes.” That was Steve.

“And he would not shut up about you in that cabin.” Sam added.

“And I share a wall with you, remember?” From Peter.

“I’m going to have to add soundproofing to your room, aren’t I?” From Tony.

“Enough!” You shrieked. “Enough. I get it.”

Everyone chuckled softly. Your whole family. It made your heart squeeze in your chest, even if your face was currently burning.

Just then, Bucky pushed his way through the door to the kitchen, startling when he took in everyone sitting around the counter staring at him.

“There he is!” Sam yelled, walking over to clap him soundly on the shoulder. “Congratulations buddy. You finally got your shit together and made a move. I get that you were frozen for years, but you don’t have to continue to move at the pace of a glacier.”

Bucky laughed softly as he continued his trajectory across the kitchen toward you. “Yeah yeah yeah.” He muttered. “Whatever.”

He snagged you around the waist and hauled you to his chest, giving you a soft kiss right there in the middle of everyone, whispering “Good morning.”

Behind you, you hear Peter fake gag and Sam let out a groan as he said “This is gonna totally ruin all the joy of making fun of you on coms.”

You and Bucky both smile at each other. Bucky kisses you again on the temple before continuing across the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee for himself.

You keep beaming into your cup of coffee. You feel like you must be glowing, you're so happy.

Your whole family is still here, showing you love in the only way they know how.

Bucky just kissed you in front of anyone.

If you thought you felt superhuman before, you felt invincible now.

“Not to break up this weird spontaneous family reunion,” Tony drawled. “But I’ve got to send Barnes, Wilson and Romanoff back to Croatia briefly to tie up some loose ends. I got a ping this morning that they must have kept some information off the mainframe at a separate location. I need it.”

Bucky groaned from behind you. “Tony, do you enjoy tearing me away from my woman?”

You turned to look at Bucky, a heated look on your face as you raised an eyebrow at him.

Oh, you really liked when he called you his.  

“Yes, it’s absolutely delightful to watch you suffer.” Tony said dryly. “You should only be gone for this afternoon. Surely your dick won’t fall off in the meantime.”

You choked on your coffee.

“Jesus Christ, Tony!” You spluttered.

“Just callin it like I see it.” Tony shrugs. “You three suit up and meet me in the conference room in 15. Try not to waste time sucking your girlfriends face again Barnes.”

Bucky sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “You weren’t supposed to tell him about that Friday.”

“Sorry Agent Barnes. It’s hard to keep things from the person who created you.” Friday's lilt came down from the ceiling. She sounded almost amused.

~0~

Bucky only disobeyed Tony a little. He did throw you over his shoulder and carry you back to his room where he tossed you on the mattress and went to get suited up.

When he was dressed he lingered a few minutes, placing open mouthed kisses along your neck and collarbones while you giggled and tried to push him off. Telling him that Tony was going to kill him if he didn’t get down the conference room.

He didn’t stop until Friday cleared her throat once.

He groaned and placed one more kiss on your lips before standing up, grabbing his guns and walking to the door. He spun when he reached the frame and murmured “I want you right there when I get back” before shutting the door and walking away.

You laid there for a few minutes, burying your face in his sheets and pillows because they smelled so much like him. You could almost pretend he was still laying there with you.

You refused to let yourself lay there all day though. Tony was right, he would just be gone for the day, but he’d be back late tonight.

You went to the gym and trained for a few hours. After a shower you spent some time in the kitchen with Wanda. She taught you a few Sokovian recipes and you both giggled at your poor attempts at cooking. She assured you that it got better with practice.

You were feeling really good. It was so liberating to feel like you were a part of this family again. Sure, you were still a tiny bit embarrassed that everyone already knew about you and Bucky. Especially Peter. The poor kid had heard you last night. Regardless, they were family. They were happy for you.

You were happy for you.

You found yourself wandering back to Bucky’s room around 6pm. You meandered around his bedroom for a while, running your fingers along the spines of all the books he’d amassed on his huge bookshelf, reading every title. You noticed quite a few titles you’d never read, and made a mental note to raid his shelf later.

You eventually curled back up in his bed. You figured he would be home in a couple hours, and he had requested that he find you back here when he returned.

You’d nap a bit, so you could be ready for him when he arrived.

~0~

You startled awake to Friday’s voice calling your name from the ceiling.

“You’re needed in the med wing immediately.” She said.

You glanced at the clock. It was 9:09. It was an hour after they were supposed to have arrived home.

Bucky.

Your heart thundered in your chest. You flung the covers off of you, leaving your shoes behind as you careened out of the room. You didn’t check your momentum as you made the corner and slammed into the drywall on the other side of the hall, leaving a shoulder sized dent in the wall.

“Shit.” You mumbled as you corrected your angle and took off again. Sprinting to the stairwell and hauling down the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator.

When you tore the door open to the med wing you stopped dead in your tracks for a moment.

There was so much blood.

It lined the tiles in big splashes and boot prints. You could make out tracks of where multiple people had clearly been running through the mess, too much in a hurry to avoid the puddles.

Your throat started to close up.

No no no.

You would not panic now. If Bucky needed you, you would be there for him. You were strong. You could keep it together right now. For him.

You skidded around the corner toward where you knew the operating room lay, following the slick trail of blood.

Steve stood pacing in the center of the hallway. Tony was sitting in one of the chairs lining the walls, his head in his hands.

You walked quickly down the hall towards them, Tony lifted his head as he heard you approaching, Steve stopped in his tracks.

“They were ambushed as soon as the jet touched down. It was a trap.” Steve blurted. “Sam got shot a few times, Nat came back with a knife in her side…”

“Where is he?” You choked.

You were concerned about your friends too, but right now you needed your eyes on Bucky or you were going to lose your goddamn mind.

“Third room on the left.” Tony muttered.

“Wait, Y/N!” Steve called. “It’s worse than it--”

You didn’t wait to hear what he had to say. You took off, your bare feet slipping along the tile as you careened down the hall toward the door Tony had said held Bucky.

Your heart was thundering in your ears.

Finally you hurtled around the corner, slipping a bit on your slick feet and slamming into the door frame of the third room on the left.

Despite the image of gore in front of you, you finally released a big wave of breath. One you didn’t know you’d been holding.

Bucky sat on the edge of a hospital bed, his kevlar jacket laid in a heap on the floor by his feet. His chest, neck and face was splattered with blood. His boots were a deep red, and more blood was splattered across his thighs.

Vision was standing near his bicep, tying off what looked like that last of a line of stitches along a large gash on his upper arm.

There on his cheekbone was the beginning of a nasty bruise, and a gash along his eyebrow was dripping blood down his temple, it ran along his jaw.

But he was breathing. And sitting up on his own.

He lifted his head when he heard you hit the door frame and his cobalt eyes met yours. He looked so distraught it sent a bolt of pain straight through your chest.

He scanned your whole body, as if he was looking for injuries himself even though you’d spent your whole day safe here in the compound. He was looking at you like he couldn’t really believe you were standing in the doorframe.

“Get out.” Bucky grumbled to Vision. Vision just glanced up at him looking perplexed, before glancing over at you. He nodded his head once.

“You’ll likely need more stitches in that gash above your eye.” Vision commented as he drifted toward the wall behind Bucky, before disappearing through it.

No matter how many times he did it, it still freaked you out.

“Come here.” Bucky growled.

You softly closed the door to the room behind you and walked toward him, trying to tip toe over the puddles of blood on the tile. Likely they came from the gash in his arm that Vision had stitched up for him. You left small bloodied prints on the clean tile.

“Are you okay?” You whispered meekly. Even though he was clearly in front of you, it still felt like he might slip through your fingers or disappear. Your terror still hadn’t fully subsided.

When you reached him, he used his metal hand to snag yours and pulled you forward forcefully. You collapsed into his arms, your legs straddling his hips. You tried to keep your weight from fully hitting him, worrying about jostling his arm and opening his stitches. Not to mention, you had no idea if he had other injuries under his thin t-shirt.

His metal arm clicked a bit as it wrapped around your torso. You noticed a few dents in the shape of bullets near his elbow. You felt tears come to your eyes. He pulled you against his chest, so he could bury his face in your neck.

You didn’t care that he was likely smearing blood all over you. You had already soaked your feet and splattered it up your shins and calves.

“I am now.” He sighed. He didn’t lift his right arm from where it lay on the bed, but you reached your hand out and rubbed your fingertips up and down the soft skin of his forearm.

His chest was quivering a bit beneath yours as he started to press sloppy kisses along your collarbone.

His metal arm whirred a bit again as he moved his hand to the hem of your shirt and tugged upward. “Take this off. I need your skin.” He murmured. He sounded near desperate, like he was spiralling into panic of his own.

You snaked your hands down and lifted your shirt off over your head. You’d taken your bra off earlier to nap and Bucky moaned when he noted your bare chest. He buried his face into your chest and peppered kisses across the tops of your breasts and down the center of your sternum.

“What happened?” You whispered.

“Those fuckers lured us there with fake information.” Bucky murmured against you. He lifted his right hand just a bit so he could grab your hip. You could feel his hand tremor against you.

“Are Nat and Sam..?” You trailed off.

“They’ll live.” Bucky grunted. “Sam probably won’t be able to go out for a few months. He’ll be pissed. Nat will be fine in a couple weeks. She always is.”

You let out a huge sigh of relief. All of them were fine. Banged up, and in pain, but they’d still be here tomorrow.

“I need you.” Bucky whispered into your neck. “Now.” He was pleading with you. A desperate whine that came from the back of his throat.

“Bucky…” You started. “Your arm.”

“I don’t give a fuck.” He growled, pulling back and shoving at your hips a bit with his metal hand. “Take these off.”

You stepped off  his lap. “Bucky…” You hesitated. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him too, but he was clearly in pain and you didn’t want to re-open the stitches.

“Please.” He whispered. You looked into his eyes again. You saw straight through the blue to the core of him. He wasn’t kidding. He needed you. You could see it in his eyes. You could feel his desperation pour off of him in waves.

You snagged the edges of your sweats and pulled down, letting them drop to the floor. It didn’t matter if they got blood on them now, you’d ruined them the moment you’d climbed into his lap.

He used his metal hand to pop the snap on his pants.

You helped tug his pants down a bit until he was free. You tried to continue to pull them down his knees but he choked “Leave them” and grabbed for your arm, pulling you toward him.

You straddled his lap again, hovering over him.

Bucky spit into his metal hand, before bringing it down to your body and spreading it over your core. He was looking between you, even his metal hand trembling now as he lined himself up with you.

You placed both hands on either side of his face. “Are you okay?” You whispered.

When he was lined up with you, he brought his eyes back up to meet yours. The color of his irises was deeper than usual. Full of pain, and fear as he looked up at you.

He closed his eyes, rested his forehead against yours and grabbed your hips with both hands, wincing a bit as it jostled his right arm.

“Bucky!” You yelped as his face twisted slightly at the movement. It morphed into a moan as he sheathed himself in you.

“I thought I wasn’t going to make it back to you.” He whispered then. So softly you barely heard him.

Tears pricked the corner of your eyes. You rolled your hips against him softly, so he wouldn’t have to move his arms again to lift your hips. He took a shuddering breath.

“I was terrified.” He continued, voice still in a barely audible whisper. “But not of dying. I’ve been waiting for that forever.”

Your throat closed up at that. A man who’d lived so many years alone. More than anyone should have. He had come to terms with the danger of his line of work a long time ago. There was likely a time that he prayed for death.

“I was terrified of what would happen to you.” He choked, his chest heaving. You continued to slowly and softly roll your hips against him. Pulling up and sinking back down as gently as you could. “I just kept imagining the look on your face when Steve told you.” He was crying now. Tears silently streaming down his face and off his jaw. The ones on the left side of his face turning pink as they mixed with his blood. “I fought harder than I’ve ever fought in my life because I refused to let that look be real.”

“Bucky.” You whispered. It was caught between a sob and moan as you continued to grind on him. There were tears in your eyes now.

He lifted his head, snagging your chin with his metal hand so you looked him in the eye.

The blue ensnared you. It whirled with so many shades and feelings. You felt like you were plunging headlong into the clearest sea.

“I love you.” He whispered.

Your breath caught in your chest. You squeezed around him as a bolt of arousal shot through you.

“I’ve loved you for a long time.” He said, his voice a little stronger now. “I almost said it to you over the phone when I was stuck in that damn cabin, but I’m glad the phone cut out. I wanted to see your face when I said it. I wanted to be able to memorize what your eyes looked like.”

You were weeping in his arms now. The pace of your hips speeding a bit as your heart started to thunder in your chest. You couldn’t take your eyes off of his.

“I was planning on saying it today. Maybe taking you on a walk around the lake or just saying it to you when you were curled up in my bed.” He was moving his hips with yours now, matching you for every stroke. “I fought because I refused to go out without saying it to your face.”

“I love you” He repeats “And I’ll be damned if any bastard tries to take me away from you.”

You choked out a sob. Your whole body felt light as air. The adrenaline that had been coursing through your body amplified your relief and your joy as you stared into his eyes.

He rests his forehead against yours again, a few soft moans escaping him as he continued to roll his hips into yours, somehow finding that spot inside you even with everything else around you being a total mess.

“I almost said it the other night.” You whispered.

He whips his head up to look at you. He clearly hadn’t expected you to say anything back to him.

“I know it’s really soon and you’re still working through things--” he started.

You cut him off.

“I love you.”

A broken moan is torn from his chest as he thrusts hard up against you. The sudden jolt causes you to come fiercely and abruptly as he covers your lips with his, swallowing every sound pulled from your throat.

He comes shortly after, still kissing you and nipping at your lower lip.

You both hold each other then, foreheads resting together, silent tears still falling as your heartbeats steady.

Bucky picks his left arm up to wrap around the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair. He pulls back to place a soft kiss in the center of your forehead.

You bring your hands up to either side of his face to gently wipe tears off his cheeks and jaw.

“I’m sorry I got blood all over you.” He chuckles then.

“I’m sorry you’re all bloody.” You respond, giving him a small smirk.

“Excuse me” Friday’s lilt comes from the ceiling. “But Dr. Cho and Tony would like to know when it is safe to come and inspect Agent Barnes injuries. I recommend you make yourselves presentable, as they are heading down the hallway now.”

Bucky groans and rests his forehead against your chest then. “When they see what you look like right now, I’m never going to hear the end of it from Tony.”

You let your head fall back and release a small giggle. “I love you.”

He pulls his head back up to look at you again. There’s a little more sparkle in his eyes this time. “I love you, too.”

Tag List: (I’m new at this so hopefully this is how you do this!) 

@vicmc624

@austynparksandpizza

[uwua3]

hi parental goose (should I say bunny?) figure I am here to request 😌🤘 can I request some amusement park date hc for kazunari? ♡♡♡♡ I love how you put songs you listened to while writing so I, your goose ally, will suggest a song! I really recommend listening to "She Looks So Perfect" by 5 Seconds of Summer since it gives off summer vibes and specially, kAZOO VIBES ♡♡♡ THANK U ILYYY ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

erisu 🥺 hi baby how are you everyone this is my Daughter my Baby my Other Child (lyd is the other baby) ♡ how r u did you sleep well here is *All My Love* of course you can request!!! i would do anything for you!!! but, thank you for recommending a song~ it is ON REPEAT as we speak!!! i remember being obsessed with this song when it came out! thanks for the nostalgia :D

summary: there was a rumor that couples who went on the ferris wheel together would be in love forever

warnings: multiple mentions of food

author’s note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY ERISU !!! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I’M SO HAPPY YOU’RE A YEAR OLDER YOU’RE GROWING UP SO FAST ♡ I LOVE YOU (so. much. hand. holding)

word count: 3,562

music: she looks so perfect – 5sos, hey mama! – exo–cbx

all the luck in the world.

🌻🎨 miyoshi kazunari

this was it, the biggest fair in the whole country was this weekend and this weekend only. you guys had to go

“yo~ we gotta go!!!” kazunari practically pushed the flyer in your face, not giving you time to read the colorful, bright font as he excitedly rambled about it being his dream to even attend such an iconic event

it didn’t take much convincing before he had whipped out two admission tickets from his pocket, as if he already knew you’d be on board with such a fun date with the coolest boyfriend ever!

(seriously... if you said no... he might’ve cried by himself, he just wants to check off a bucketlist goal with his favorite person and best friend ever!)

(“wah~ i’m so #cool right? give me a kiss to prove it!!!” when you actually did it, he was quiet for about three seconds before he started cooing and sending an attack of affection your way)

you two planned your outfits ahead of time (the only thing he bothered planning), with kazunari rummaging through your closet and throwing pieces he thought would coordinate behind him (ultimately landing on your face).

he was being your personal fashion consultant (you didn’t question him, he was an art student who knew how to dress!)

throughout the entire process, you strutted out of the bathroom like it was a runway with your ever chaotic and supportive boyfriend clapping. he had a questionable french accent as he complimented you without end

“my chérie, you are absolutely darling!” kazunari flipped the end of a feather boa over his shoulder dramatically as he had on a pair of sunglasses (how he found that in your room was beyond you). he sat at the edge of your bed with his legs crossed, pretending to write critics down on an invisible notepad as he feigned fainting out of shock

kazunari ran over to pull you in a hug as soon as you found one of his options perfect. he blabbered about how cute you were and how he was so lucky

you tried processing how your boyfriend had so much energy. he was so dramatic, but you never felt unconfident or nervous to be yourself around him because kazunari loved you for who you were!

when you collectively agreed on the best outfit, kazunari worked to find something of his own to match you to be that couple at the amusement park (it was hilariously coincidental he almost had the same items)

(the #ootd on instagram that day got him so many likes when he included multiple mirror pictures with you doing ridiculous poses. he captioned the picture with so many happy faces and heart emojis)

(yes, he had his own story category reserved just for your pictures)

(yes, you also were the person behind a majority of his posts online and was credited every single time without fail) (you were known as “kazu’s photo guru”)

“kazu... are you sure you don’t want to plan ahead?” you asked carefully as he just scrolled through his phone, disrupting his rant about having the most iconic date of all time. kazunari just laughed, shrugging without looking up

“don’t worry~ everything will be fine!” kazunari exclaimed as he asked his followers recommendations for rides to check out. you knew he wouldn’t change his mind with his “happy–go–lucky” attitude

you just hoped the drive to the park wouldn’t be a nightmare since it would be so crowded

on the ride up, you two screamed pop lyrics at the top of your lungs no matter how busy the road was (you two never noticed, but at stop lights, you’d be the center of attention as kazunari just had to fail at a whistle note with the windows down)

the moment kazunari took control of the aux cord, you knew it was going to be a party until you arrived. you two sang together so much that you knew which parts were yours and effortlessly bounced off each other, flowing naturally and laughing nonstop

although kazunari went with the flow, he had the luck of the world on his side the day when you guys showed up. he had managed to find parking, got in line fast, and made it into the amusement park like it was second nature

(you knew of horror stories where the lines were way too long in the blazing heat, kids crying about not winning, indifferent employees not caring at all... how did kazunari manage to repel all the bad from your life and make it as easy as possible?)

it was as if his positive energy about the whole day manifested the universe to give him the easiest entrance ever (or it was his insanely charming charisma that got him off the hook with just about anything)

you two even got a discount on your tickets, believe it or not! somehow, one look at you two and the seller knew you were a couple (the matching outfits definitely didn’t give it away) and gave you extra for “young love”

(kazunari was so ecstatic, you were almost worried he was going to kiss the employee right then and there. you had to drag him away before he got on first–name basis with everyone)

when you two got your wristbands and went to the grounds, kazunari let out the loudest squeal of excitement ever and had to stop himself from jumping up and down (just bouncing on his heels like an impatient child)

“O. M. G!!! we’re gonna have the best date ever!” kazunari shouted, holding onto your hand as he took in the entire view, with so much to do for the entire day

booths were set up with so many fun (but rigged) games with yelling handlers, advertising their set–up to passerbys with infectious energy. crowds of children were rambling in awe about the animal display (like the world’s biggest pig apparently, who knew?). screaming passengers were swinging over your heads from the multitudes of crazy rides only the country’s biggest fair could have

you were so busy taking in the view of kazunari’s excited big eyes and huge grin that you missed the mischevious spark glinting back at you

when he craned his head back at the tallest ride there was, that contraption that somehow brought tens of people in the air just to swing them around in a circle, you suddenly came back to earth

“—wanna bet?” kazunari finished, tilting his head towards you with a competitive edge. you raised an eyebrow, not bothering to question it when you swung your arm around his shoulders and smirked back

“bet.”

suddenly, you were being dragged to the games section, passing by the crowds easily when kazunari was always by your side. it was as if the road parted for him when he reached a display with balloons pinned to the wall

“i know you didn’t hear me, which is why i’m going to win~” kazunari teasingly hip–bumped you, passing the necessary amount of tickets to the game runner which they accepted graciously. you just shrugged, picking up the fake plastic rifle they let players use

(“was i too handsome?!” kazunari joked, missing how you actually agreed)

“yeah, yeah. i don’t need to know, i’m gonna win.” you winked, making kazunari swoon as he lifted his arm to his forehead with a dramatic flair

“my hero!” kazunari called out as you readied yourself to shoot the balloons, knowing the odds were gravely against your favor

“what am i shooting for again?” you asked, putting your cheek against the gun. kazunari just slid up to next to you, his lips brushing your ear with a smile

“if you lose, we’re riding the swings together~” kazunari giggled and you fired, hitting one balloon with satisfaction. kazunari wrapped his arms around your waist, reading his chin on your free shoulder despite you trying to focus

“and if i win?” you asked, not bothering to entertain your clingy boyfriend as you hit another balloon. even the person running the game seemed anxious about your chances at crushing the whole thing

“we can do whatever you want.” kazunari breathed out, placing a gentle kiss on your neck with a laugh when you flinched. you hit your last shot though, exhaling in relief when the attendant begrudgingly gave you a large–sized prize

(it was a super triangle, you definitely knew who you were giving this to when you got to the dorms)

“you know what, i think we’re both winners.” kazunari tried to laugh off, but you didn’t let him get away that easy when you grabbed his hand quickly

“nu–uh! you know where we’re going!” you giddily pulled him towards another game, leaving kazunari holding onto the super triangle with great difficulty as you two played game after game

(you were right; kazunari was an universal favorite as he somehow managed to swindle the toughest of games with sheer luck)

(when a kid began asking him to play a game for them, you knew you had to stop making your boyfriend do outrageous things just for a stuffed animal)

(at least kazunari got a cool boomerang story on his snapchat of him throwing a ring onto a bottle)

“make a deal with me~” kazunari begged, holding way too many prizes to count in between his arms as you looked around for more. he was about to give up but as he caught sight of two double doors with a neon sign, he knew you’d agree immediately

“if i win every game in the arcade, we’re going on the carnival rides.”

when you accepted the deal, you regretted it. somehow, you forgot how kazunari always had everything go his way

it was like you forgot all about the rides outside. you two entered an air–conditioned, hipster arcade and had to play everything despite dropping the coins everywhere (“please keep them in the cup!” “it’s not my fault!!!”)

you name it, kazunari probably won it. fuseball, air hockey, pac–man, nintendo crane machines, zombie shooters, motorcycle/driving simulators, he won it all just for the hell of it. you’d never admit it, but he really was just the best at everything he did

although the games were fun, it was time to fulfill your end of the deal (as deserved since kazunari had no reason to go as hard as he did at the ddr pad inside the arcade)

after storing all the stuffed animals into the cramped back of the car with kazunari apologizing to them profusely (“dad is so sorry! we’ll be back soon~ promise!”), you two returned to have the biggest adrenaline rush of your life

any rollercoaster kazunari saw, he wanted to go on right away. lines felt like nothing when all he did was talk them away and get so excited seeing the ride rush by

kid–specific rollercoasters had to prevent him from going (“i’m sorry, sir, but your height exceeds the maximum” “what???” kazunari would feign shock as if he wasn’t five heads taller than the whole line)

he wanted to try it all since he never had this experience before! he wanted to make all these memories with you even if it meant yelling his head off as long as you were by his side

(seriously, one ride you had squeezed your eyes shut but heard the most high–pitched scream ever. you thought it was someone else, but of course it was your boyfriend)

you didn’t mind that much, since you used the whole ride time to grip kazunari’s hand tightly and make sure his hat stayed on the entire ride (why he wore one was questionable, anything for fashion, you guess)

ironically enough, you had done about ten rides with dizzying effects before ending it with the swings, the tall ride he initially wanted to go on with you. when you looked up at the full height, you gulped after being strapped to the two–person swing (how was this safe?!)

it was the first ride you weren’t exactly comfortable with, but when you looked at your seat partner, kazunari had two thumbs up with a big dumb grin. you instantly calmed down before the ride started

“i love you!” kazunari exclaimed as the ride began pulling you up further from the ground, holding onto your hand and looking up at the blue sky with the giddiest expression ever

it was the first time he had said he loved you out loud before, but before you could process it, all you could do was scream when the ride began rotating you around in a circle

(you had to stop him from taking out his phone, reminding him the post wasn’t worth it)

(though, kazunari did drop his hat this time. he really was lucky to find it again)

“okay, okay,” kazunari stumbled off the ride, exaggerating his lack of balance by holding onto you, his excitement not even decreasing a little after so many hours of fun

“food time! my muse needs a snack!” kazunari had whipped out the crumpled map someone gave him from his pocket, quickly locating the area without being delayed (he was always good at directions, it must’ve been why he was so popular at these types of social events)

somehow, kazunari always knew what you needed at every exact moment. you were thankful he couldn’t hear your stomach growl over the sound of the general atmostphere

when you guys arrived at the food hall, it was definitely the greatest prize of all (sorry to the stuffed animals who were defintely overheating in the parking lot)

all the best chefs and caterers came together for this event with the most outrageous food options of all time. fried oreos, cheese curds, cotton candy, caramel apples, churros, basically anything you imagined, it was most likely 1000x better with some funky twist

you never had to be nervous ordering because kazunari always stepped up and spoke, letting you hold his hand as if to reassure you he had the situation handled. he would somehow form a meaningful friendship with someone within two minutes of ordering and got extras, hurrying over to a table with every option possible

(yes, he took a photo of the whole spread and added ridiculous hashtags only savvy internet users knew) (he also posted on his private an embarrassing candid picture of you drooling at the food)

kazunari liked feeding you whatever he was eating, always encouraging you to try new things but respecting your boundaries at the same time just in case you weren’t up for it

(“oh, you don’t want to? no big deal~ just happy to be with you!” he’d say, wiping your mouth with a napkin regardless and just being content with you not being hungry)

while eating, you noticed a pattern of kids walking by, pointing at kazunari like he was a legend

“is that the guy who won basically every prize back at the games? wow~” they whispered, not realizing kazunari was extremely observant as his ears perked up at his name. he had turned to wave at the children, but they ran off

“you know...” kazunari started, and you already knew what he was gonna say as you rolled your eyes fondly, knowing how big his heart was, especially for innocent children who kept getting scammed by games

“yes, we have no need for most of the giant stuffed animals.” you pretended to sigh, as he quickly got up, giving you a quick kiss as thanks on your cheek as he ran back to the car

for the next hour or so, you and kazunari managed to give out most of your prizes (except anything triangular) to the children who had been staring, all of their parents or guardians thanking you guys profusely for your gift (though, there were some who were staring at kazunari suspiciously)

(as if they should be afraid of a liberal arts college student)

“it’s no big deal~ no problem!” kazunari always said, truly finding it not bothersome at all to share. you always admired that about kazunari, his natural instinct to care for everybody and make people smile. at a distance

you leaned against a light pole with a small smile as you watched kazunari crouch down, ruffling some kid’s hair as he gave them a prize

when he instinctually looked for you, he smiled back like you were the only person at the park

suddenly, you wished you said “i love you, too” before back at the swings

after indulging, you two shared an ice cream cone on the hot summer’s day as the lights began to turn on and the sun set. this was apparently the best part of the fair, where all the colors would pop like fireworks and the night breeze was your friend

you two had basically done everything at this point, even being the amusement park’s robin hoods with your wins. the arcade had both your names at the top of every digital leaderboard, the ride controllers had seen you too many times to count, and you two had digested an unhealthy amount of snacks that you’d regret the next day

what else could you do? it was already the most perfect date, there was nothing else except...

this time, you leaned your head back and saw a circular shape blocking the sunset: the ferris wheel

you turned to kazunari, who was already admiring the way the light hit your face. he wanted to paint you right then and there before you ruined the serene moment by biting your ice cream (why?!)

“i bet i can make it to the ferris wheel the fastest, wanna bet?” you questioned and you never saw kazunari grin even bigger as his eyes lit up with recognition

“bet!”

you two raced to the ferris wheel, much to the chagrin of every carnival–goer ever who dodged your fast advances. you got to the line first, skidding to a stop and nearly bumping into the person ahead of you as kazunari whacked into your back with an “oof!”

“awww, what do i have to do now that i totally lost?” kazunari pouted, but you just giggled and poked his cheek, not noticing how he became slightly flustered from your touch (you could never tell, it was a hot day)

“go on it with me.” you offered and he didn’t even think twice before he agreed, realizing this was the ride he’s been waiting to go on with you this entire time

(kazunari remembered the only other thing he really researched was this ferris wheel, where a rumor around it stated two people who went on it would be together forever)

when you two were allowed into one of the trolleys, you two sat close like always with your head on his shoulder. the orange light made everything feel like a fantasy, like this was a daydream. you didn’t want to wake up as kazunari squeezed your hand the moment the wheel started increasing

slowly but surely, you two were going around in circles as you savored the moment, wanting nothing more than to be here with kazunari forever

“you know... i never thought i’d be here.” kazunari started and you hummed, encouraging him to keep going as his thumb traced circles around your palm

“i didn’t have many friends growing up, so it would’ve been totes not cool to come to these things alone!” kazunari tried to play it off as some joke, but you knew better, just lowering your hand to his lap and waiting for him to talk

“but... now... i have friends? good—no, great friends! and... i have you. i’m living, and i have you.” kazunari trailed off, like this was a revelation he hadn’t realized before. the quietness between you two dragged on too long, you wondered what he was thinking

you opened your eyes and kazunari was already looking at you again with a soft smile, not bothering to notice anything else but you, like he wanted to remember this forever

you two reached the top of the ferris wheel, the wheel stopping to give you two a moment by yourself with the sunset

“i love you.” kazunari said again, and you didn’t hold back this time

“i love you, too.” you whispered, afraid to break the moment. but kazunari laughed, and you were laughing, and it was like the funniest joke ever as you two tried to maintain your composure

even as you two got off, you couldn’t let go of him as he did the same. these were the memories child–kazunari always dreamt of, and they were so much better than he ever imagined

after saying goodbye to all his new friends, kazunari couldn’t stop smiling as he drove home, with you sleeping beside him in the passenger seat

he turned off his music this time and carefully watched the road. taking one hand off the wheel, kazunari took your own and kissed your knuckles again and again with love

“i love you, i love you, i love you.” kazunari said, like he couldn’t say anything else but that

(kazunari posted a shot where he held your hand in front of the sunset on the ferris wheel with the caption: “best date ever”)

kazunari really had luck on his side if he was in love with you, maybe he had the ferris wheel to thank for that!