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xoxo-teddybear · 3 years

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Whatever Katsuki Wants - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!Reader

Warnings: ANGST, violence, blood, cursing, lowkey little yandere Bakugou, smut, toxic relationship

Request: can I get Bakugou comes across a criminal on one of his bad days and he goes straight feral with an insane satisfied smile as he beats the shit out of them till they die. (Dark Ik, sorry😂) but as he beats the man, a video is taken of the scene and instead of posting it the anonymous person sent it to quirkless!FemaleReader. How would that play out?

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

“Fucking hell!”

Bakugou ran through the dark city chasing an annoying ass criminal. It wasn’t even a villain per say, more like a petty thief wanting to ruin someone’s day. His day. Now usually, the number 2 hero wouldn’t be pursuing this type of crime, but the damn prick ran into a bank, held hostages, and got away with over 5 grand.

The pro was already have a pissy day from the second he woke up. He couldn’t wake up next to his Teddy Bear because you had to visit your parents for something that started before even Katsuki had to wake up, then he burned his breakfast because a damn bird flew into the kitchen window, he was late to work and got put on night patrol, he probably wouldn’t get to see you when he got home before you knocked out because you also had a night shift, and now this.

Every second that passed caused his damn blood to boil. He was mad at....well, existence. Not his, just existence in general. For everything. He was so close to catching this damn bastard that when he finally pounced the guy, he didn’t realize there were footsteps coming his way.

Bakugou pinned the criminal to the ground in an alleyway and completely disregarded his quirk. He needed to take his anger out on something and this poor man happened to be in his grip. Bakugou threw punch after punch, kicked the man in his stomach until he coughed up blood, he stomped on the man’s head, threw him against a wall, etc. He ended it with a strong and fiery blast at the unconscious body. Finally, after 2 minutes of silence, Bakugou began to sinisterly laugh. A psychotic laugh with a crazed look in his eye. He was hunched over with his arms loose as he walked towards the dead man, picking him up by his skull.

“Sorry buddy, you caught me on a bad day,” he laughed out and whispered into the lifeless body’s ear. He threw the body into a pile of trash cans before walking out of the alleyway. When he turned the corner, he took notice of a trembling civilian, holding a camera at him. “The hell?! THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT DAMN CAMERA?!”

Bakugou barked at the random person with devil eyes before sending a blast to the phone. The person ran away screaming, pissed at the hero for doing that. To be petty, the “extra” (as Bakugou would say) wanted this video to be exposed. Not to the media, this person wasn’t cruel enough to destroy someone else’s career, but he wanted to send it to someone to have the hero learn a lesson.

Now it was no secret that the pro was in a relationship. In an article, it was revealed that the two of you had been together for the past 4 years. With that in mind, the damn hacker found Dynamight’s longtime girlfriend’s number and sent the video her way.

—

At Bakugou’s nice home, his perfect little oblivious girlfriend hummed a tune to herself as she made some spicy curry for her precious Suki. Now it’s not that Y/N was dumb. She was actually very intelligent. But when it came to Katsuki, she was just a cute little “housewife” that loved him.

Flashback

When Bakugou first met you in the grocery market, he couldn’t help but notice your tiny but voluptuous figure, you were struggling to reach a box of cereal until Katsuki came along and helped.

“Here you go, Short Stack. Maybe next time you should ask your mommy to help you reach the high shelves.” He teased with a wink to the nickname.

You looked at the handsome blonde with a blush at first sight but when he teased you, your blush grew more ferocious with a pout and pointed brows. “I don’t need my mom to help me in the grocery store. I’m 22 for God’s sake!” You said, reaching for the box that he now held over his head.

“Hm, woulda said 17.” He teased again. You ignored his jokes and jumped to reach the box and take it out of his hands. You failed multiple times and he still stood tall with a smirk as he looked down at you.

‘Now she’s fucking cute’ he thought to himself. His eyes traveled down to your busty hips and tiny waist, then taking notice of the way your chest bounced around when you jumped and reached for the cereal. ‘Pretty damn sexy too.’

“C’mon little bear. You can do it.” He said with a shit eating grin. You pouted some more and stomped your foot before coming to a realization and began smirking. You dropped to the floor and swooped your legs to kick at his ankles and made him drop to the floor. As he fell, he let go of the box and you caught it midway before turning your back to him. Usually, Bakugou would be a little pissed, but his anger died down at the sight of your juicy ass.

“Yes!” You cheered.

“Woah..” Bakugou said in a trance. You turned to him with a confused look before he quickly hid it with a scowl. You giggled at his place on the floor and stuck out your hand to help him up.

“Sorry, but maybe you should’ve just given me my cereal. Anyway, thanks for the ‘help’ I guess..uh..” you asked, hinting for his name.

“Bakugou.” He answered and you nodded and gave a soft smile before speaking.

“Bakugou.” You said, finishing your previous sentence. “Well, I’ll be off now,”

You began to walk away but felt Bakugou tug on your arm. You looked back at him with another confused look but was only met with a cute smirk.

“Hey, I helped you with that cereal, the least you could do is give me the pretty girl’s name.” He said. You blushed a bit more before giving him a dumb look.

“Who? Me?” You teased.

“Nooo, the old hag at the cash register,” he joked. You both laughed at his comment as you settled with his hold on you, not minding the contact at all.

“Y/N L/N.” You said.

“Alright Y/N L/N, was nice meeting you.” He said with his hands in his pockets while holding a smile. A real smile and not a smirk.

“I know.” You said with a cocky smile that he could only chuckle at. “Was nice meeting you too Bakugou. I’ll see you around,” you said walking away with a waving hand.

As you walked, Bakugou couldn’t help but admire your curvy body and drool at the sight. He didn’t know what it was but something was pulling him to you. He wanted you. He needed you. That little interaction was not enough. It’s not even that he wanted to fuck. Sure you had a banging body, but your playful self caught his interest. He wanted your mind, body, and soul. He wanted to make you his.

Through the help of technology and his access to police files and hero reports, he was able to find your name, address, where you worked, and all that. He worked hard to “coincidentally” run into you constantly, up until the point where you two became quite acquainted. You eventually asked him to hang out (as friends) and that’s where the relationship grew. A few months had passed before Bakugou successfully asked you on a date, and that’s when you both found love within each other. Or more so, you found love in him. He loved you at first sight and he knew it for a fact.

After a year of dating, Bakugou asked you to move in with him and you of course said yes. Once settled in, he worked even harder to constantly fuck you stupid, break you down but build you up at the same time. He made it clear he was in charge and you were his little toy. A toy he loved with his entire being, but still a toy.

You became his dumb little girl. You had a job but Katsuki encouraged you to not work so much. “I don’t want you to raise a finger pretty girl. Just let Daddy take care of you,” he would say as he bounced you on his cock.

You had a little dance hobby that Katsuki also encouraged you to take a break from. “You don’t need to put on a show for anybody else but me, Princess. Daddy’ll give you all the attention you want.” He’d say as he kissed your cheek and finger you in front of a mirror.

You used to have friends before Bakugou found out they were trying to warn you of his abrasive behavior. Growing pissed at that, he convinced you they were against you and were no good for you.

“Those little friends of yours could never make you feel as good as I do, baby. They’re no good for you. They just want us to be apart. They’re jealous. They want you to leave me, but you don’t want that, right princess?”

“N-No daddy!”

“That’s right princess. You definitely don’t wanna leave me. Because no would could take care of you like I do, right? No one could. Nobody but me,” he would say as he pounded into you and whispered in your ear.

Eventually, Katsuki became your whole life. You would work one day a week so that you had more time for Katsuki. You would wake up next to him and cuddle with him until he had to leave for work. You would clean the house and cook for him, and you would wait for him to come home during the late hours of the night so you could smother him with love. Often times, you guys would fuck. Matter of fact, the day you first moved in, you Christened every place and piece of furniture in his house. It was the same routine that you learned to love. Wake up, cuddle, clean, cook, love, fuck.

Being Katsuki’s precious dumb baby girl, he couldn’t let his baby bear see all the damage he does as a hero. Oh no, that would scare you way too much. Your precious little self wouldn’t be able to handle it. He would tell you he was a pro hero, the number 2 hero, saving lives, and he was satisfied every time he saw the sparkle in your eyes as you looked at your hero boyfriend with a proud look. He never told you about the dark side of hero work though. The bloodshed, the kills, the deaths. Horrid things your sweet baby mind wouldn’t be able to take. He would keep his princess oblivious to the terrible things he has to do as a hero and you being his dumb little bear listened when he said you wouldn’t be able to find any videos of him. Why bother to check if he was right? Your Katsuki would never lie to you. He would never do wrong by you. All and all, Katsuki can’t risk her getting scared and leaving.

That was until....

—

Ding!

You were busy finishing up dinner when your phone went off. You looked down to the screen to see a random number had sent you a video. From the preview of the video on the banner, you took notice of that easily recognizable tuff of spiky blonde hair. You grew excited at the small sight of your boyfriend and swooned before you watched the video.

After you pressed play, your smile remained as you watched your boyfriend. However, as the video went on, your smile slowly dropped and became replaced with an open mouth. Your eyes became filled with fear as you watched your “sweet” boyfriend ruthlessly murder a man in an alleyway. You listened to his crazy laugh and felt your heart skip a few beats. Your mouth became dry and your palms grew sweaty as the video continued to install fear in you. Finally, your boyfriend threw the dead body into a pile of trash cans before you saw him look to the camera with those eyes. Those ruby gems that you used to love turned into blood drops as he gave the camera a scary glare. He barked at the man behind the camera before aiming a blast his way. The blast came at the camera and made you jump as it felt like the attack was going to hit you. You flinched and dropped your phone as the video finished and your breath grew heavy as you began to sweat and look around.

You immediately ran to your shared bedroom and pulled out your laptop. Katsuki always said you would never find anything about Dynamight online, but all you had to do was type in his name to find multiple videos of his deathly battles. You watched countless recordings of him mercilessly killing people left and right with his quirk and bare hands. Your body began to shake as your pupils dilated with fear. After a terribly gruesome fight video, you threw your device aside in fear and ran into the living room. You settled the slightest bit before growing nervous once more. All around the house were pictures of you and Katsuki. He was everywhere in the house. And those dangerously red eyes followed you everywhere. You began to hyperventilate until the sound of jingling keys invaded your ears.

You looked at the door in fear and after a few seconds, the main man walked in. Katsuki Bakugou. He seemed exhausted but once he took sight of you, he visibly became at ease.

—

Bakugou walked into the door, pissed off and tired as fuck. Luckily, that all changed when he noticed his precious Teddy Bear in the living room. He assumed you came to greet him again like you always did and he smiled at that.

“K-Katsuki! Hi..” you nervously said but Bakugou was too intoxicated with you to even notice. He walked to you with a smile and wrapped his arms around your waist before peppering your face in sweet kisses. You flinched due to his touch but Bakugou just assumed it was because of his stronger caramel scent. He did use his quirk a lot today after all.

“Hi baby,” he said. He didn’t stop his kisses as he spoke in between them. “Had such a bad day this mornin’.....was so upset......missed you a lot baby...did you miss me?”

“Mm..y-yes.” You once again said in fear. You definitely missed him throughout the day, but now with this new information, you wanted nothing more than to get away from him. Bakugou moved his kisses to your lips and placed a long, loving one on you. He had his eyes shut and so did you, but his were shut in content and yours were scrunched in fear. The entire time, you could feel your rapid heart rate pulse all throughout your body.

Bakugou started a heavy make out session with you as his hands traveled to the swell of your ass and gave it a grip and smack. He spoke to you throughout the kiss and kept his lips hovering when he spoke before diving right back into it. “Not my best day today......but you can make it better, right baby.....you wanna help Daddy feel better?”

“Mm!” You didn’t say yes but you couldn’t say no either. You didn’t know how to. Not when it came to Katsuki. At the cute little sound, Bakugou picked you up and placed you down on the couch, too eager to dive into you right away.

He placed you on the wide couch and began grabbing at your body. Your tiny waist, your curvy hips, your pretty titties. That was when he finally felt you tense up. A few nervous thoughts infiltrated his mind. Did you not want this? You never said no to him though. What was going on? He pushed those thoughts away as he continued. Maybe you were just extra sensitive today. Things were starting to change when he moved his hand down into your panties and you tried to squirm away from him.

“Baby?” He asked you as he separated from your lips and gave you a confused puppy look. He finally took notice of your nervousness and looked at you with worry. “You okay, princess?”

“Umm, yeah! I’m-..I’m okay it’s just, you don’t wanna take a shower before we do anything?” You asked as an excuse. Bakugou chuckled and a few of his nerves began to settle.

“C’mon princess, I know I just got off of work but it’s always just smoke and caramel with me. Besides you love it, I know you do.” He said and smirked as he began to lick at your neck. You nervously laugh and pushed on his chest to back him up.

“Aha, yeah, but don’t you wanna be a little more comfortable?” You asked again.

“I’m already comfortable right here. If anything, I’d be really comfortable if we were both bare already.” He said against your neck again. You pushed him off again and placed a soft hand on his cheek while giving him the sweetest smile as you spoke.

“Please love, for me?” You asked. You watched as Bakugou gave an exasperated sigh with a smile and roll of his eyes before leaning down and giving you a sweet peck.

“For you.” He said before pecking your cheek. “Everything for you, baby.” He said and finally got up to go wash up.

Once he was out of sight you released a relieved sigh. With him gone, you felt yourself began to shake again as you crowded into a corner on the couch and held yourself. You covered your mouth as you began to silently cry and sob. That-..that killer was so close to you. He was pressed against you. His once loving and comforting presence now became dangerous and scary. You didn’t know if you could take it.

—

As Katsuki walked up the stairs to the master bedroom, he couldn’t help but feel the nerves begin to bubble back up again. Why were you acting so...disobedient? It kind of irritated the blonde but he settled nonetheless. Maybe you were just having an off day. Bakugou walked right into the room and went straight for the shower after tossing his phone on the bed. The sooner he washed up, the sooner he could get to ravish you. He was quickly in and out of the shower and once he went back into the room, he threw on a pair of Gray sweats. Before leaving, Bakugou went to grab his phone but noticed your laptop opened. He looked to the screen in curiosity and felt his heart drop to his stomach once he saw what he did.

‘PRO-HERO DYNAMIGHT’S MOST LETHAL ATTACKS’ was the video you were watching. Bakugou took notice of the setting and remembered that battle. The battle where he grabbed a villain by their neck and blasted off into the sky before using an explosion to hurl them down to the ground again, killing them in the end.

Why the hell were you watching this? How the hell did you find this?! Why did you even think of looking for this video?! Bakugou felt his heart rate increase as his breath became huffs of frustration. His eyes grew fierce as he grabbed the laptop and ran downstairs. Once he walked in, he saw you cornered in the couch, hugging your knees with your head down. “Y/N!”

You immediately looked up when your boyfriend called your name. He finally saw your teary eyes and feared face when you looked to him. Then it finally clicked. This is why you were acting so off. You found him. You found the other side of him. The Katsuki you knew was sweet, teasing, loving, and a romantic. The Katsuki he hid from you was ruthless, violent, feral, and borderline insane. And you were acting off because you finally found out.

“Mind telling me what the fuck this is?!” He shouted. Now this wouldn’t be the first time Katsuki’s yelled at you. While he was in the process of breaking you down, he had to yell to let you know who was in charge. It’s not like he was heartless though, he hated it every time you forced his hand and made him yell at you. He felt so guilty and made sure to cater to your every need after he would freak out on you. Thankfully, you were a quick learner and it’s been years since you’ve gotten reprimanded by him.

You stood to your feet to try and defend yourself and get a grip. “K-Katsuki! I-..I swear it’s nothing! I wasn’t doing anything!”

“You’re gonna fucking lie to me now, Y/N?! Why the hell did you go and look for this video?” He fiercely asked. You remained silent as you were terrified and just trembled at you chewed at your lip. “ANSWER ME!”

“I-...Someone-..Somebody sent me a video...of you...and what you did tonight.” You hesitantly said. Bakugou slammed to your laptop shut and threw it to a wall, destroying it in the process.

“Show me the video.” He demanded. You were still shaking as you looked to him in fear and shock at what he just did. “NOW!”

You scrambled to get your phone and give it to Katsuki. He watched the video with a numb expression but his grip on the phone gave away all his emotions of anger and fury. Once the video was done, he looked at you with an insane smirk. You stared at him in fear as you watched his every move and right then and there he crushed your phone in his hand.

“K-Katsuki!” You shouted as you looked to your now destroyed devices. He dusted off his hands and walked to you. You tensed up at his approach and when he raised a hand to cup your cheek gently, he felt the way you shook in extreme terror.

“It’s okay, baby. You can tell me whatever you’re thinking right now. I won’t get mad.” He softly said with a smile. He was so close to you now. His hand was caressing your face oh so sweetly that it made you believe him the slightest bit. You don’t know if it was love or fear that caused you to tell him but you did.

“I-..I’m..I’m scared of you Katsuki.” You said with tears in your eyes. Katsuki just continued to softly stroke your face with his gentle smile as he nodded his head and encouraged you to go on. “You didn’t tell me..about anything of that. You told me you saved people..but you were..killing them.”

“It’s how I have to save people baby. People who become too dangerous need to be put down. It’s my job baby, you understand, don’t you?” He asked with his gentle tone. You shook your head as he still held it softly.

“No..I- I don’t.” You looked at Katsuki with hurt eyes and you took a small breath before you boldy said the next words. “I-..I think we should take a break.”

At that, Katsuki tensed up again. His eyes went wide for a second and his smile dropped before he shook his head and the kind eyes and warm smile returned. He stared at you for what felt like forever before his sweet face turned into a scary look and his hand quickly wrapped around your neck to put you into a small choke hold. Bakugou flipped you onto the couch and pinned you there. You began to scream and squirm but he covered your mouth and held you down with his legs to keep you steady.

“Careful Teddy Bear,” he said with a maniacal look, “shout and scream too much and you might just lose your breath,” he said and tightened his hold the slightest bit. “And we wouldn’t want that now, would we?”

You began to silently sob as his hand covered your mouth and you stopped moving under his hold. You nodded your head as tears began to spill down your face. Katsuki pouted at you before leaning down to lick away a tear. “Awe, don’t cry baby. There’s nothing to be scared off.”

At his words, your eyes grew angry and you bit his hand to remove it. He shouted at the bite and removed his hand as he looked down at you in anger. “You! That’s what I’m scared of Katsuki!” You said with anger and sadness.

Bakugou didn’t take too kindly to that and clenched his fist before he smacked your face. Your head turned to the side at the hard slap as you gasped at the contact. Bakugou grabbed your face with his large hand and made you face him.

“Dirty fucking bitch. You fucking love getting smacked by me don’t you?” He said with a crazed look. “Listen to me very carefully Y/N. I’ve loved you since I first laid my fucking eyes on you. So you’re not allowed to leave me. Understand?” He asked. You began to squirm again and he smacked you again to get you to stop. “ENOUGH OF THAT! You’re not leaving me Y/N. If you run, I’ll find you again the same way I did in the beginning. If you hit me, I’ll have to punish you. You remember all your punishments, don’t you? So stop fighting it. You love me and I love you. We’re not splitting up.”

You narrowed your eyes at Bakugou before spitting on his face. His eyes grew feral as his hold returned to your neck to give it a squeeze. You could still breath..but barely. “Answer me this baby. Answer wrong though and I’ll do what has to be done. Do you want to leave me?”

You looked at his eyes to find any hints of danger. Sadly, everything about this whole situation screamed danger. You still had love for Katsuki, you knew you did, but this was a whole different level. You didn’t know who this was. “.....Yes.”

“Wrong answer.”

With that, Bakugou began to rip your clothes off along with his own. You watched in fear as he did everything. The entire time, he had this excited grin on his face with insane eyes.

“K-Katsuki! What are yo-“ before you could finish, Bakugou had taken your panties and used them as a gag for you. He shoved them in your mouth and you made muffled sounds. You were both now completely bare on the couch, just like he wanted when he first came home.

“Relax baby,” he said before kissing your cheek softly as he pulled you to him. “I’m gonna make you feel so good..I’m gonna do something so nice that you’ll never want to leave.”

You shook your head with tears in your eyes. You tried push him away but he pulled your hands down. “Stop that. I’m not a heartless monster baby. I promise you’ll enjoy it.”

He grabbed both your hands and pinned them above your head in the couch. Both your tiny hands were able to be held by his one giant palm as his other hand traveled to your lower region and began rubbing soft circles on your clit. You arched your back at the pleasant feeling. As much as you didn’t want this, as much as you wanted to run away and leave, your body couldn’t deny the pleasure he gave you. He knew you inside and out. He was able to break you from a single touch.

“Feel good?” He asked with a smirk. You shook your head in disagreement. His smirk fell into a determined frown. He knew you didn’t want this now but he would make sure you would soon enough. His movements picked up speed and your legs began to shake. Katsuki finally shoved two fingers in, causing you to shriek with the muffled sound.

His pumps gave no hesitation with their speed as they went in hard and fast. You were practically screaming behind the panties once he gave in another 2 fingers. His thumb played with your clit as he continued to whisper dirty things into your ear.

“My little slut really thought she could leave me? Huh? Cant you hear the sounds your pretty pussy is making. Your mouth may say you don’t want me but your mind and body says otherwise.” With that he slipped in his thumb and you’ve never felt so full. You had his entire fist pumping in and out of you as your felt your legs growing weak. “Fuck baby, look at you. Taking my fist so well. Feel good? Feel full? Hm?”

This time, you moaned in agreement. You couldn’t help it. This was going to be your last time with Katsuki, might as well make it last. However, that was never Bakugou’s plan, no. He loves you too much to let you go. You aren’t leaving him and he’s making sure of it.

As he continued, he felt you tighten around his fist. He smiled once again and sped up his movements. “C’mon baby, let me hear you.” He leaned down and pulled the panties out of your mouth with his teeth. He tossed them aside and allowed you to voice your thoughts.

“F-Fuck Katsuki! M-More! Please!” You begged. He only looked down at you with wide eyes and a grin.

“More? What more could I give you baby?” He said, leaving down to you. “Tell me what you want Y/N.”

“I-...I-“

“You- you- you what teddy bear? Tell me. Do you want..me to stop?” He teased.

“N-No!” You cried out.

“Do you want me to slow down?” He asked.

“No!”

“Then? What do you want, baby?” He asked.

“Mm! I- I want you to fuck me Katsuki! Please! Fuck me with your cock!” You cried out and Bakugou’s fist came to a stop.

“Good girl.” He then pulled out his fist and quickly replaced it with his dick. You both cried out in euphoria. He wasted no time in ramming into you, using a quick speed. He held onto your hips as you velvet walls swallowed him in. “S-Shit baby! Fuck, after all that you’re still so- fuck! So fucking tight.”

His fingertips had a grip on your hips that was sure to leave bruises. The way he was pounding into you caused your breast to bounce and dance right in front of him. Not that it wasn’t anything Katsuki hasn’t seen before, but it’s the fact that he loves the scene so much. He licked his lips at the sight of your voluptuous mounds before taking one into his mouth. The feeling of his teeth sinking in had you gasping and your hands found way into his hair, pulling him in closer.

“K-Katsuki!” You cried out. He smirked at the sound and released you from his mouth.

“You don’t even know how good you look. How good you will look when I knock you up and fill you with my kids.” He said against your bare skin. This made your eyes pop as you looked at him in fear.

“W-what?! No! Katsuki! Please, I don’t want thi-“

“Shut the fuck up!” He screamed over you. He placed his hand around your neck as his cock completely took over you. “Yes you do! Don’t you remember baby? You always talked about starting a family with me. Now you can have it!”

“K-Katsuki..please! Please stop, this is rape!” You urgently whimpered. Bakugou merely ignored your cry as he continued his motions.

“I said, SHUT THE FUCK UP! It’s not rape if you enjoy it baby.” He said in response. He continued to touch you in the dirtiest of ways, bringing quiet moans out of you no matter how hard you tried to fight it.

“No! I don’t want it anymore! I don’t want you Katsuki!” You cried. Tears now flowed down your face in fear. You’ve always wanted a family with him. But that was before you knew how he truly was. Your words only angered Katsuki and so he punished you with a harsh smack to the face. Your head turned to the side as you gasped at the stinging feeling that almost felt like pleasure in a way.

“I’m gonna give you brat, and you’re gonna stay. You’re gonna stay with me and we’re gonna be a happy family! Because I love you and I know you love me.” He said. Your legs were growing weak as his relentless thrusts never stopped.

“P-Please. Please, I’ll stay. But I don’t want this. Not now.” You whimpered. At your soft voice, Bakugou slowed down the pace but his hard thrusts continued.

“Sorry baby, but I want this. I’ve spoiled you for too long. I give you everything under the sun and you reward me by trying to leave. Especially over such a small instance? I don’t think so. The least you could do for me is give me the family I want with you. Don’t you agree?” He sweetly said with malice intent.

You only continued your whimpers as you allowed him to do as he pleased. You weren’t getting out of this. Katsuki gets whatever Katsuki wants. If he wanted to fuck his child into you, he was going to do so, one way or another. Katsuki allowed his moans to fill the room as the once sweet sound of skin slapping grew louder and louder, coming faster and faster. Eventually, you reached your release and even squirted all over Katsuki’s chest. He very much enjoyed that and it brought him closer to his climax. He kept to his word and filled you up to the brim. You both threw your head backs and cried out in ecstasy.

Once he was done, Katsuki remained inside of you as he laid on top of you. He peppered your face in kisses as you continued to make soft sounds. You both remained on the couch for some time before he pulled out and walked to the kitchen to get a rag and clean you and himself up. Once done, he picked you up and brought you to the bedroom where he placed you down under the sheets and joined you. He cuddled with you in bed feeling happy and joyous while your head was stuck in thought.

‘If his plan worked, I’ll be a mother soon. There’ll be a baby growing inside of me.’ You silently thought. Bakugou snapped you out of your thoughts with a kiss on your lips before he began speaking.

“..I know what you saw on the footage was scary, but that’s not the only part of me. I’ve shown you every other me. The me that loves you and wants to be with you forever, Y/N.” He said and picked up your hand to give your knuckles a kiss.

“....I understand that your job isn’t the purest. I understand that sometimes, a life will be lost. But the video that was sent to me, showed you killing a petty robber. You took it too far.” You argued quietly.

“Tch. Whatever. He deserved it anyway-“

“And it’s not only that, but you’re the reason why I have no friends, no job, no money, no family, no nothing. In the beginning, it was amazing because I thought I knew you. But now, I’m just scared of you Katsuki and I have no one else to go to.” You began to get choked up. This was the man you loved but you felt like you didn’t know him anymore. Right now, in your eyes, he was a killer. A scary monster.

“If you left me, who would you go to baby? You’re absolutely right. You have no friends. No job. No home. You have nobody but me. You need me. Say it.” He demanded. You remained quiet to rebel against his wishes until he took hold of your face and squeezed it tight. To stop the pain, you forced the words out.

“I-...I need you!” With that, he released his hold on you and his hand rested on your cheek. He stared into your eyes and you looked at him with the sad and confused look you had on ever since he came home.

“I love you Y/N. Do you still love me?” He asked.

“......I do.” You said. A smile grew on his face.

“Then we can make this work,” he said and pulled you into his chest, holding you tight. You whimpered into his chest but nonetheless held onto him tight as well. You did love him. You knew you did. But you didn’t love who he truly was. Or at least, what part of him was. A killer. A murderer.

He was right though. You had nowhere else to go. Katsuki really was your everything. And so, you were going to allow this relationship to go on. His child will come from you and you will start a family with him. Whether you want it to happen or not. As long as he wants it, it’ll happen.

Whatever Katsuki wants.

A/N: THE ENDING IS SO RUSHED AND HORRIBLE! IM SORRY!

Tag list: @sxcker4you @aomi04

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help-im-a-gay-fish · 3 years

Text

The Night of the First Mistake

Sequel to

Synopsis: pre X-orcist, almost a year after Nightmare's death, Dream is still not on top of his grief and causes him to resort to desperate measures.

Tw mentions of death/dead loved ones.

X-orcist au belongs to me and @zu-is-here

Dreams, Demons and Desires is by me.

Enjoy

Almost a year had past since he'd last seen Nightmare. The skeleton couldn't say he had mourned him, but the news of his death had been unfortunate to say the least. Who could have seen someone like Nightmare dying in such a preventable way? Not him, that's for sure.

He was a friend... Or at least a friendly acquaintance, clearly he'd not been quite close enough to Night's inner circle to be invited to the funeral. He'd never even met Night's brother. Despite that, the news of his parting had deeply saddened him and every so often, he thought of him with a sigh.

A good customer and a good person.

This evening, Nightmare played at his thoughts again, probably drudged up by the anniversary of the accident approaching, he hadn’t meant to make note of the day, but he had. a few weeks would be the anniversary of the day he heard the news.

He thought back to a year ago, a few weeks before his death. The words he’d said about his brother and the increasing frustration about his sinful thoughts. Killer didn't judge him for such feelings, he was no stranger to sin.

Other then that, there was nothing at all strange about this night.

Tonight, just like any night, he was in his shop and the counter. It was a cold October and pretty soon he'd be closing up.

It was dark and chilly in his shop and had a strangely pungent smell, which hit the moment you walked in. A mix of crushed herbs and spices, old books and stale coffee.

An old set of scales sat on the counter top in front of him, as did a till, several glass jars and containers and a large collection of dirty coffee mugs.

Behind him there was a large book case full of many strange books. Ones with faded titles, ones with thick leather bindings, some with large strains spreading across the covers or pieces missing. If you asked him, he'd liked to have said that he'd read all of them... But there were a few he hadn't. He wasn't much of a reader outside of this collection.

As he nursed yet another cup of coffee from the café next door, he tapped his slender skeleton fingers on the counter top. He was bored.

With a glance at the clock, he decided today that he could close up early. It was his shop after all, he made the rules. A small collection of trinkets and charms hung around his neck and clinked together against his old coat, as he got to his feet.

Just as he prepared to take today's earnings from the till to count it, he heard the door and a jingle of the shop bell, indicating someone had entered.

He set an empty eye socket in their direction as they froze, looking nervous.

The person was new, but also something about them was strangely familiar. After scanning them for a moment, his face twisted into a sly smile upon realising who the new comer could be. He turned his face to them fully, staring his pitch eyes right through them. They tensed, which amused him slightly.

"well hello Little Light.... How may I help you"

Dream seemed taken back slightly by the pet name. It wasn't something he was used to. His hands fused with the fastening on his coat.

"uhh Hello.....I’m..... Uh.."

The shop keep chuckled again. Such nervous behaviour wasn't something he saw often from his customers. Looks like it was going to be an interesting night and to think, he was going to close up.

"nervous Lil light?"

Dream once again tensed and shuddered slightly.

"Please.... Don't call me that" he stammered slightly before taking a breath "My name is Dream"

The shop keepers grin got even wider and it made a chill run up Dream's spine. There was something extremely unnerving about this skeleton. Maybe it was the emptiness of his eyes or the strange carvings around them, but Dream was sure that it was more then that.

The atmosphere of the shop was very unsettling and kind of cramped in Dream’s opinion. There were many trinkets, stones, crystals and small animal bones stacked neatly on the shelves. It was this, along with bags of salt and bundles of sage and garlic, that reassured him he was in the right place for what he needed.

"Dream huh?.... Thought so" he said in a low tone "I'm so glad to finally meet you"

The nervous shifting of his hands continued, as Dream once again tensed even further. He was acting friendly, but it still felt ever so slightly...off.

"h-how do you know me?"

"I knew your brother and I'd recognise that pendant I sold him anywhere" he said, with his eyes looking at Dream's chest.

Dreams fingers quickly shot to the star charm hanging from his neck, and gripped it tight. Looks like this was the right place.

"Not to mention there's your golden eyes" he continued, shifting his gaze straight into Dream's eye sockets. It was strange how Dream knew where he was looking, even without eye lights.

"he often talked about them......He was right when he said they were very beautiful if I do say so myself~"

Dreams face blushed slightly, but he felt a familiar twist in this chest at the mention of Nightmare and a sinking feeling when he was reminded how Night felt about him. His brother had often complimented his eyes.....

He'd just never really understood it was more then brotherly affection. At least until now.

"I.... Uh" Dream said before clearing his throat "You're Killer.... Aren't you?"

Flexing his fingers, Killer nodded. The grin didn't leave his face.

"looks like my reputation proceeds me"

Dream let go of his necklace and a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "I thought it might be you.... Based off something he wrote in his diary".

Before Night's accident, Dream had never even considered reading his diary. That was just a basic code of conduct. However, after his death, it became something Dream had often thought about. The diary, and everything else Nightmare owned, now belonged to him. For that reason he'd taken the book out of Nightmare's room.

However, he'd just kept it on his bedside table for almost a year before he finally had the courage to read it.

It had mostly been a fond look over some old memories, some good and some bad. But there were also passages about his feelings for Dream, sometimes written confessions addressed him. Every word was full of truth, longing and pain. Dream had felt it all.

Those had been hard to read, but he'd not skipped a single page and read them each through several times.

Nearer the end of the book, Nightmare had started talking about his interest in the supernatural. Dream remembered his twin getting fascinated in that and spending long evenings talking with him about it over tea and biscuits.

One thing Dream hadn't known about, where his trips to the next town over, where he wrote about finding this shop and the shop keep. This had been where the interest started. It was this that had lead Dream to come here.

"right..." Killer said, downing what was left in his coffee mug and setting in on the counter top.

"well.... What can I help you with?"

Yeah.. Nightmare had written that Killer was always one to cut to the point. Dream knew that what he was going to ask sounded insane and he wasn't even fully sure if Killer was the right person to ask. But at this point he was desperate, he just needed to know. With his grip returning to his brothers pendent, he remembered who he was doing this for.

He took a deep breath.

"Can you bring people back from the dead?"

Killer didn't react visibly to that. But he drew out a long silence. After a little Dream was sure he saw his jaw clench. The silence was completely deafening, broken only by the sound of Killer's fingers tapping the counter top. Dream figured that he was probably struggling to think what to say. After what felt like a life time, he spoke.

"I specialise in charms and equipment for preventative measures to stop spirits inhabiting homes....I do not....." he paused

"I don't try and bring the dead to the living realms".

Dreams face fell. He really shouldn't have been so disappointed, it was a crazy ask. But with the way Killer spoke and what he sold in the shop, he'd felt so close to what he wanted. But maybe it really was just impossible.

He felt tears threatening to spill, he just couldn't take all this guilt anymore. All he wanted to do was tell his brother he was sorry. That night. That kiss. That dam horribly wonderful kiss...and that car.

"however...." Killer continued.

Dream felt hope flush through at those words and stood up slightly straighter. Killer turned his back to dream and started looking over the bookshelves behind the counter.

He didn't say a word, as Dream curiously watched him. He ran his thumb across the spines of several of the oldest and most dusty looking of them, eventually plucking out a large leather bound book with silver straps.

He walked back over, blowing dust off it as he did, and set it down on the counter with a light thud. The cover was extremely dusty and the leather was cracked and split in several places, yet the title still read fairly clearly and Dreams felt his heart skipped a beat.

The Practice of a Necromancer. Vol one of three. Summoning, Controlling and Banishing.

"I've not read this one fully, but it's been in my collection for years.... I suppose this would be the right place to look"

With that, he slowly opened the book and very carefully started to turn its pages. The paper was completely yellowed and clearly very fragile. There were no photographs, only hand done drawings of various items and also what looked like people, but with strange and uncanny faces. There were also other frightening images that Dream was trying not to look at.

Killer eventually stopped and ran his finger across a page.

"ah ha" he said "to summon a spirit into the living world"

He read over the text for a moment, as Dream watched impatiently. Killer knitted his non-existent eyebrows and narrowed his eyes.

"this stuff sounds overly complicated to me..... so I guess I'm not sure really"

But Dream didn't really seem to be playing much attention to Killer's words now. He was so desperately trying to read the text upside-down. Reading was something that Dream always struggled with anyway, so reading upside down would be near impossible. He reached forward to try and pull the book to him.

But he jumped back in surprise as Killer slapped his hand across the book, sending some dust into the air.

"now now now not so hasty Lil Light" he said returning back to a sweet tone, as he said the a pet name that made Dream's toes curl.

In his haste Dream had forgotten that this was a shop, not a library, so of course he wouldn't just hand it over.

The smaller skeleton knew that the book was probably pricey so it's not like Killer would just let him have it. It was clearly very old and Dream worried that he wouldn't have enough for it, but if he had to pay all the money he had to buy it. He would.

Reaching inside of his pocket, Dream pulled out a bundle of paper money and placed it on the counter and next to the book. Killer looked at it for a moment, before he took it and counted how much money was in the bundle. He ran his fingers across the notes, looking as if he was very tempted and contemplating his next move.

But then, much to Dream's disappointment, he put it back down on the counter.

"I don't want your money dream... That's not what I meant"

An unhappy wine left Dream's mouth, as Killer proceeded to hand his money back to him. Just as he was about to ask why, Killer cut him off.

"it's not for sale"

"but what if I just borro-

"or for rent or loan"

Dreams soul twisted. This felt so Incredibly unfair. He wasn't ever one to really get angry or feel hatred for people. But why had Killer gotten this book down if he didn't intend to sell it? Was he just trying to mess with him?

It was that moment that he wasn't sure he really liked Killer all that much.

He sighed.

"h-how come? Can I do anything to change your mind?"

Killer sadly shook his head.

"Dream....... I like to read the stuff for research purposes not for a practical use"

Dream opened his mouth to object, but killer silenced him.

"and I don't care what you say... but I don't think you're just interested in the topic"

Dream tried very hard not to show disappointment on his face, but of course Killer picked up on it. It upset him that his intentions were so easy to guess. Then again he'd opened with 'can you bring people back from the dead'.

He really should have asked in a different way. Feeling like an idiot, he tried to say that he wasn't intending to use the book in practice. But Killer once again shook his head.

He stood up slightly and gave Dream a sympathetic look, or a sympathetic as he could make it through his cold eyes.

"look....I know you miss him and that's ok I've lost people myself to" he said in a uncharacteristically gentle tone, which sounded fake.

Dream looked at his feet.

"but the dead need to be left dead. Trying to bring them back never ends well, Nightmare wouldn't want you to get hurt trying to help him"

Dreams eyes stayed fixed on the floor, not wanting to look at killer any longer. He didn't want him to see him cry. He didn't want to look like a baby. Just as he was going to try arguing again, behind him he heard the shop door open and the bell ring

He looked back at Killer seeing he'd straightened up.

"K-killer...." came a soft but slightly panicked voice.

Curiously, Dream looked over his shoulder at the source of the voice. It was another skeleton stood by the door.

In all his life, Dream had never seen someone look to tired. They seem to be slightly younger then Dreams age but it was hard to tell how much. Their appearance was clearly young, but the huge bags under their eyes aged their face several years. The most notable thing about them was that their eye lights where small, indicating that they were on edge.

They were wearing a oversized cream knitted sweater and had a maroon scarf decorated with a paw print pattern tide around their neck. They fiddled with it as their eyes a looked at Killer and then to Dream.

From where he was, Dream could also see them wearing several of the necklaces and charms that Killer a sold, as well as a few layers of bandages around their arms.

Killer hastily exited from behind the counter and approached them.

"Hey Cappuccino......." he said, trying again to sound soft.

Ccino wasted no time in burying his head to Killers chest and wrapping his arms around him.

In response, Killer stumbled slightly and looked momentarily taken back and very uncomfortable. After a moment he sigh, before gently placing an hand on his back.

"hey.....it's ok ya wimp... I'm guessing they're back right?"

Ccino simply nodded, Killer sighed.

"Dream can you show yourself out? I've got to take care of this, we're closing anyway. I'm sorry I couldn't help you better"

As Killer attempted to comfort the shaking skeleton, Dream turned his attention back to the book in front of him. It was just within his reach, the page was tantalising.

It was so clear, a set instructions of the exact thing he'd need to do to reach his goal.

Killer's warning played in his mind.

But he knew what he was doing right? It was his brother, what did Killer really know about what Nightmare would have wanted. He didn't know how.... Close... They were. At least he thought he knew.

It was a split second choice.

As Killer continued to try and comfort his companion, he saw Dream hastily exit the shop without saying another word. He stared at the door.

It didn't feel right.

He narrowed his eyes and stepped back from Ccino slightly.

"hang on"

He walked back to the counter and was relieved to see that the book was still there, however a moment later he noticed something else that make him freeze and curse under his breath.

"what's wrong?" Ccino asked, walking up next to him.

Killer didn't answer and instead picked up his book and looked at it closely to confirm what he saw. When he saw he was right, he near growled.

"Killer?" Ccino asked not seeing the problem.

"look....."Killer said quietly.

He ran his finger down the spine where the pages joined together. Once you looked closely you could see the remnants of torn paper sticking out.

"he took the page"

references coming soon.

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ijustwant2write · 4 years

Text

Stalkers-Aziraphale x Reader x Crowley

(GIF credit to @fuckyeahgoodomens)

Requested by anonymous: ‘Would you do a platonic Good Omens imagine where Aziraphale & Crowley become close to human graduate student and they follow her on a date (and she notices them) because their protective (you can decide if the date goes good or bad)?’

Characters: Aziraphale x Reader (platonic), Crowley x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Mentions of break ups and cheating, FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

(Y/N) strolled around the corner of a book shelf, arms swinging with a book in one hand as she approached the till, where Aziraphale was waiting with a customer. She held out the book to him, a big smile on her face.

“(Y/N), that’s the wrong book dear.” Aziraphale awkwardly said.

“Oh!” the young woman gasped, looking at the cover. She was meant to find a novel about a dystopian future, with conflict and struggles of hierarchy. Looking at the cover, she realised she had picked up a romantic tale.“I am so sorry, I will go and find the other one-”

“No!” Aziraphale blurted out.“N-no, don’t worry. I’ll go find it.”

“OK, sorry again.”

Once he had finished with the customer, Aziraphale went to find (Y/N), who was stacking books on the shelves. She smiled at him as he approached her, and he copied, but it was clear to see that he was uneasy.

“I just want to talk about what happened earlier.” he started.

“I’m really sorry about that again. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“It’s not that, I’m not concerned about embarrassment. I’m more worried about you.”

“Me?”

“You know this bookshop back to back. You’ve worked here since you started university. It was just a shock that you picked up the wrong book, and took so long to get it.”

“I wasn’t that long was I?”

“You took fifteen minutes.”

“I mean, people make mistakes.”

“Of course they do, nobody is perfect. But it’s so out of character for you. Are you feeling well?”

She nodded, returning back to her job.“Absolutely fine.”

“Because you know you can tell me.”

“I know.”

“If anything is wrong, I am always here-”

“I’ve got a date tonight.”

He hadn’t expected that answer.“A-a date?”

She nodded.“Yeah, uh, it’s with this guy from one of my lectures. We’ve been friends...well, sort of friends for the last year, but he asked me out the other day and obviously I’ve said yes. So I’m freaking out a little bit.”

Aziraphale was shocked by her quick rambling, stumbling over his own words as he processed everything.“O-oh, well, that is very exciting! Why are you worried?”

“Because I haven’t been on a date since...well you know.”

“Oh, of course. You are going though, aren’t you?”

She sighed.“I was-”

“You should! This is great news!”

“But what if I’m awkward? If I’ve forgotten what it’s like to date?”

“Tell you what,” he started to take the books out her her hands,“you take the rest of the day off. Go relax, get ready for tonight, and enjoy yourself!”

“Aziraphale, I really shouldn’t-”

“I won’t take no for an answer. You need to relax and calm down before tonight. I think you’re going to be surprised with how much fun you’ll have.”

“If you’re sure...I mean, I am a bit excited.”

Aziraphale grinned at the sight of his friend blushing.“Good! Keep in high spirits and you shall have a great evening.”

(Y/N) put on her coat, saying her goodbyes to Aziraphale as she slung her handbag over her shoulder before putting her earphones in. The angel kept the smile on his face until the door shut, then his true feelings were unleashed. Panic struck him, mumbling to himself as he stressed over his friend. He knew he needed help on this, instantly calling Crowley to the bookshop.

Crowley had been bored out of his mind that day, so when the phone rang, he answered far too quickly, having to put on a reserved attitude as he spoke. Hearing Aziraphale’s tone made him agree to come straight away, even though he didn’t know what the problem was. Bursting into the bookshop (thinking another Armageddon was approaching), he called out for the angel, who popped out from nowhere, his eyes wide.

“Oh thank God you’re here.” Aziraphale sighed in relief.

“Well, I wouldn’t be thanking him-”

“It’s (Y/N).”

Crowley didn’t care about his smooth persona anymore, not when it came to (Y/N).“What? What’s happened?”

“She’s got a date.”

Crowley stared at him, mouth open. After a few seconds, he spoke,“That’s what you called me here for?”

“Yes! How are you not worried?”

“Because it’s a normal thing for young adults to do?”

“But this is (Y/N)! You remember the last relationship?”

Crowley softened at that.“Oh, you have a point.”

(Y/N) had not been attending university for long when she first applied for the bookshop. She was just eighteen when she started, much quieter and shy back then, but Aziraphale decided to take her under his wing (no pun intended). He and Crowley had become friends with her, watching her grow as she studied hard, not without stressing herself out at times of course. However, they had also been there when the first boyfriend came onto the scene. (Y/N) had been so excited, infatuated with this boy. They had dated for a year and a half, it had been so lovely at the beginning. Even the angel and demon liked him; until he made the fatal mistake of breaking her heart.

That boyfriend had all but ripped her heart out of her chest, torn it to pieces in front of her face before stamping on it. After all the dates, the presents, the studying together, supporting each other through their studies, the cute pictures and talks about their future, he randomly decided to sleep with someone else. The man (Y/N) thought she could see a future with had never showed any signs of leaving her, or no longer having an interest. He flat out admitted it when she confronted him, suddenly expressing how he didn’t find her attractive anymore and that she had been a waste of time. It broke (Y/N), and although she wanted to believe that someone would come along and cherish her just as he did in the beginning, it was extremely hard to imagine such a thing after those harsh words.

“I know I shouldn’t judge others, especially since I don’t know the man...” Aziraphale said.

Crowley removed his glasses.“Well, how did she look when she told you?”

“Happy, she was nervous but giddy. She’s worried that she’ll embarrass herself, though I could see the excitement in her eyes.”

“Well that settles it then.”

“What?”

“We have to follow them.”

“How did that make you think of following them?”

“(Y/N) has mixed emotions, she may not think straight because she’s overwhelmed.”

“She’s a smart young lady, she’ll be able to tell if she likes him or not.”

“Still, we don’t know this guy. I think to be on the safe side, we should tag along.”

“A-a double date?”

“What? No! We need disguises, we need to follow after them.”

“So, stalk them?”

“Stop making it weird. Come on, let’s figure out what we’re wearing.”

(Y/N) couldn’t stop staring at her reflection. She had spent more time than needed on her hair and makeup, picking out her jewellery before putting on the outfit she decided on (which also took a while to pick out). Although she always presented herself well everyday, she hadn’t dressed up in a long time. It was almost refreshing to see herself like this, she felt beautiful. Smiling at herself, she was broken out of her trance as her phone buzzed. Quickly grabbing it, she saw her dates name pop up, stating they were on their way to the restaurant they chose to go to. It was now or never.

Crowley and Aziraphale waited down the road from (Y/N)′s student house, seeing her leave and head in the opposite direction. Crowley was more confident sneaking around, purposefully walking quickly so Aziraphale would keep up with him and not think about backing out of this. For disguises, they decided they needed to dress young, blend into the crowd; Aziraphale wore an oversized jumper with an equally long striped scarf, his usual bow tie still on, as well as jeans and converse. Crowley had on a black denim jacket with a black and white patterned silk shirt, black jeans with boots definitely meant for hiking, as well as blacked out circular glasses and a beanie. Aziraphale felt ridiculous, hating how people stared, but Crowley was too focused on the mission to notice.

They followed her to the restaurant, casually leaning against a building across the road as they watched the man and woman embrace. He kindly held the door open for her, gesturing for her to go ahead.

“He seems gentlemanly.” Aziraphale pointed out.

“No, this is their game you see. He wants her to think he’s a gentleman, when he’s the total opposite! I’ve seen it happen many times before. They’re all ‘Mr Nice Guy’ just so she’ll go home with him.”

“That’s a little extreme, don’t you think-”

“Come on!” Crowley grabbed Aziraphale’s wrist, dragging him across the street.

(Y/N) thanked her date as he tucked in her chair for her. It wasn’t a high end restaurant, and it was only late afternoon, but this is how they wanted it to be. They were already friends, it would be awkward if they were properly dressed up in a posh place. He had already complimented her, making her blush, and they were able to slide into a conversation. It was like any other time they had been hanging out, except there was a romantic element to it all.

“There they are.” Aziraphale whispered to Crowley as they entered the building.

Not waiting to be seated, Crowley guided the pair towards the couple, finding a table close enough that they could watch their every move without being spotted. Sitting down, Crowley shoved a menu into his friend’s hands, holding it in front of his head with his eyes peering over the edge.

“He tucked in her chair for her, that’s sweet of him.” Aziraphale smiled.

“Remember what I said.” Crowley frowned.

“Perhaps we’re being a tad dramatic. I was paranoid this morning, but seeing them together has calmed me.”

“I’m not sure. He could be pretending.”

The squabble was disturbed when (Y/N)’s laugh rang out, along with her date’s. Her friends turned to see her covering her mouth as she continued giggling, her eyes still on the man across from her.

“That doesn’t count.” Crowley quickly protested.

A waitress came over to their table, surprised by how quickly the men ordered their food and the lack of eye contact. What shocked her the most was when she tried to take the menus away, but they gripped onto them with their lives. It was the only way they could hide from (Y/N). She backed away, not too phased because when you work in this sort of service, you do get your weirdos.

“Maybe we should just leave...” Aziraphale felt less stressed, he had a good feeling about this man. She looked much more calm, more natural with him than she did with her ex, and this was only the first date.

“But we’ve ordered.” Crowley moaned.

“I feel like we’re imposing. I know we wanted to check on her, but (Y/N)’s an adult, she knows how to handle herself.”

“Let’s at least wait for our food-”

“But what if they spot us! We can take it to go.”

“It’ll be cold by the time we get back, and we’ve ordered drinks!”

(Y/N) tried to concentrate on her date’s words, she had been invested in his story until a couple on another table started bickering. It was just human nature to pry, and she had glanced a few times over at them. They were an extravagant pair, wearing clothes that made them stand out. It wasn’t a bad thing, people were allowed to express themselves.But there was something about them that made her keep staring.

“Hey, I’m just going to quickly pop to the loo.” (Y/N) said, smiling at her date just as he did, before she stood up, heading towards the odd couple.

Aziraphale and Crowley were too caught up in their argument to notice that (Y/N) had left the table, and was headed right towards them. She suddenly appeared at the table, crouching down on the other side so her date couldn’t see her.

“What are you two doing?!” she harshly whispered.

They were shocked by her, flinching in their seats. Aziraphale sighed.“I knew this would happen!”

“Are you two following me?”

“It was Crowley’s idea!”

“You were the one who called me!”

“Enough you two!” (Y/N) quietly exclaimed.“Do you know how much you’re invading my privacy right now?”

Aziraphale had a calm tone to his voice.“We just wanted to make sure you’re alright. And how did you know it was us?”

“Have you seen your outfits? You stick out like a sore thumb.”

“I thought these were very on trend?” Crowley said.

“In 2013 maybe.”

“We’re sorry. We were only thinking of you, your safety, your happiness. And we were going to leave, but Crowley is complaining about the food-”

“It’s good food here!”

“As long as you two don’t interfere with my date, you can stay. Just don’t stare, or watch.”

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Aziraphale smiled.“He seems like a lovely gentleman.”

Crowley groaned.“Stop calling him that.”

(Y/N) relaxed a little.“He’s...he’s a sweetheart. I feel comfortable with him, happy too. I’m having a great time...was having a great time.”

Aziraphale placed a hand on her shoulder.“We promise we won’t do anything. Honestly, I’m quite hungry and parched now that I’m thinking of our order.”

(Y/N) pondered for a moment.“Fine. You’re right, the food here is pretty good, I can’t take that away from you. But next time you do a stake out, try to blend in, yeah?”

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orionwhispers · 5 years

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Fools Gold // Tommy Shelby

(A/N - ok. i started this imagine in december but then life happened and here we are almost in march. this took a really long time to write and im honestly kind of iffy about it but i hope you guys like it. also side note - tommy is a MASSIVE dick in this and do not let a boy/girl/anyone treat you like this - this is purely fiction and irl if someone uses you like this then they are trash. also second side note im mean to grace in this but I have a lot of feelings ok. LOVE U GUYS)

Thomas Shelby needed a distraction.

His mind was hazy, like looking through a cloud of smoke. He saw Grace everywhere. Sunshine coloured hair reflecting on the grey puddles in the street, sapphire blue eyes watching him from the bluebells sitting on Polly’s desk, her soft laughter in his ears whenever he heard a bell chime. He wanted a distraction. He wanted a quick fix, something soft and warm that would fill the emptiness of his bed and the hole in his heart, but he never imagined just what that would cost.

The first time he saw you was on a Wednesday. The clouds were silver and the air was cold, and London was a welcome change in scenery. He was visiting Ada, in the city for business but wanting to see the kind face of his sister, some softness in his world of sharp. It was late at night, the moon round and full and the library almost empty, and he nodded at his sister in greeting as she filed away the last of the novels.

“Tommy.” She smiled, with rosy cheeks and tousled hair. “Let me just grab my coat and we’ll be off.”

She turned to speak to someone, and Tommy impatiently tapped his clipped fingernails along the edge of a desk, his brain always working, mentally relieving business deals in his head as he waited. He listened to the low hum of the roads outside and the incessant flickering of a street lamp through the window, turning slowly at the sound of footsteps approaching.

His breath hitched in his throat.

Standing beside his sister, all kind eyed and ink stained and sweet as strawberry ice cream was a girl. A girl that for the first time in a long time, made the memories in his brain curl off and vanish like wisps of smoke.

A girl that could be the perfect distraction.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright closing up? I’m sorry to rush off like this.” He didn’t register his sisters voice, his ocean blue eyes trained on you, with your cherry bitten lips and pink polished fingernails.

“Oh Ada, I’m fine. Have a lovely time.” You replied, voice just as honeyed as the rest of you. You gave Tommy a soft smile, wringing your hands together, slightly uncomfortable with the attention you had accidentally drawn to yourself.

He stepped forward without a second thought, his palm outstretched. You blinked back at him, like a deer caught in headlights. Ada had spoken about her brother; how he could sweet talk the devil, and how he was destined to rule the world with his golden mind and silver tongue. You had been intimidated by her words, and standing before him you felt utterly, hopelessly, mortal.

You tried to hide your nerves as you shook his hand, his large fingers engulfing yours and sending sparks down your spine. His blue eyes reminded you of the ocean, like a stormy sea and the smell of salt, and you were worried you might just drown. He wasn’t handsome. He was beautiful.

“My apologies for stealing my sister away.” He said, his voice even and still, warm like a summer breeze. “I’m Tommy.”

“(Y/N).” You replied, trying not to falter under his unwavering stare.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, (Y/N).”

You held his gaze for as long as you could, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks and your neck grow hot. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and that was what unsettled you the most. You had never been in the presence of someone so powerful and striking, and you felt so small next to him.

After a moment you pulled away, biting your lip gently and motioning to the overflowing bookshelves around you. “I should get back, it was nice to meet you. Have a nice night, Ada.” You smiled at your friend, before turning on your heel and walking away, feeling eyes bore into your back.

Tommy watched as you left, entranced by the swish of your skirt and the soft footsteps you took, and-the dizzying length of your tight clad legs. Ada tightened her scarf around her throat, a smirk on her face as she made her way to the door.

“Don’t even think about it Tommy.”

——————————————————-

It was hard for him not to.

That night, as he drove back to Birmingham, he pictured your pretty face, your teeth chewing on those rose coloured lips, the slight tremor in your words as you spoke. In the quiet of his bedroom, the moon watching him from high above, it was usually Grace who disrupted his nightly reflection. But for the first time in a long time, it wasn’t her voice soothing him to sleep.

He knew he wasn’t going to fall in love. Grace might have been on the other side of the Atlantic with a husband that didn’t deserve her, but Tommy was a romantic, and he truly thought that one day they would reunite. Lizzie was a good fuck, but she was temporary. Now she was hired as his secretary he didn’t want to blur the lines of their relationship, and he could already feel her growing too close for comfort. He didn’t need a girlfriend, especially when he knew that no one could compare to Grace, he didn’t need another person to worry about and he certainly didn’t need another broken heart. But what he did need was something to fill the void.

It was easy to find you, even with just your first name. He spoke to one of his informants in London, under the guise of ‘looking for a new assistant’ and the following day he had a stack of papers sitting on his desk.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N). You worked at the library two days a week, and spent the other three training as a nurse. There were no previous addresses or references from past jobs, just your current flat and the hospital where you worked part time. There was nothing personal, no mention of family or relatives nearby, just a slightly faded photograph of you taken before the war. You weren’t looking at the camera, your eyes occupied elsewhere, almost as if you were shying away from the photographer. You looked younger, but just as beautiful and Tommy thumbed the worn print between his fingers; careful not to smudge your face, a fingertip trailing along your lips.

———————————————————-

The flowers came three days after you had met.

You had been at the hospital learning how to properly stitch wounds, and your head was numb from processing so much information. You were exhausted, droplets of rain splattering across your collar and down the back of your blouse, and you were desperate for the warmth of your bed. You toyed with the keys in your pocket, finger running across the ridges so that you could get in as quickly as possible, but you fumbled when you noticed a spark of crimson on your doormat.

It must have cost at least a hundred pounds. Rich, ruby red roses all neatly clipped and arranged, their petals healthy and as soft as butter, and the gold foil writing on the box was of a store on the other side of London, one you had been too intimidated to even step foot in. You assumed that it was for Mrs Kim upstairs, or perhaps a gift from Ron to Mark after they had one of their colossal rows, but as you reached for the label, you felt your brow furrow.

“It really was a pleasure to meet you, (Y/N). Regards, Tommy Shelby.”

You left them in your kitchen, squashed into the only vase you owned, clipping them practically to the wick to get them all to fit. You ignored them as you ate dinner, the radio nothing but noise in the background. You tried not to think of them as you sank into a scalding hot bath, or as you clambered into bed, and it worked - because what you thought of as you drifted off to sleep wasn’t ruby red roses, but ocean blue eyes.

——————————————————————

Two more bouquets came in two weeks. Both just as lavish and extravagant as the first, and both sitting in the biggest drinking glasses you owned. Your flat smelt like a florists’, and pollen lingered on your clothes all day, a constant reminder of the man who had sent them. You busied yourself with work, letting the day to day distractions of the injured occupy your mind. The hospital had needed an extra pair of hands and you needed experience, but when you finally returned to the library, you cornered Ada as she restocked the shelves.

“Oh (Y/N)!” She smiled, as pure and fresh as new snow. “It’s not been the same without you.”

“I don’t want a boyfriend.”You blurted out, eyes wide.

You had hoped to say something more eloquent, but Ada’s jet black hair and similarity to her brother made you fall pathetically at the last hurdle. Her eyebrows shot up, and you inhaled deeply. “Sorry, that came out wrong. Please tell Tommy, thank you for the flowers, but I’m not really looking for something right now.”

“Tommy sent you flowers?” There was curiosity evident in her voice as she stepped forward, heeled boot clicking against the floor.

“Well, more like three bouquets.”

“Wow.” Her brows almost reached the pendant light dangling from the ceiling.

“I thought you knew - I mean, I thought you gave him my address.”

She shook her head, a small smirk dancing in her face. “Nope. But that’s never stopped Tommy before.”

You exhaled, looking up at her and chewing on the bottom of your lip. “You know that I - I can’t. I don’t think I’m ready, you know, after everything...”

Ada was your closest friend, she had been since she arrived in London. Beautiful and intelligent, with her young son and quick wit - you remembered meeting her on her first day at the library, feeling nervous and intimidated by such a confident and clever woman, but barely a week passed and it felt as though you had known her your entire life. As the months flew by, the two of you would often go for drinks or dinner by the river, staying out till midnight and laughing until your ribs felt tough. She trusted you enough to let you babysit Karl, the little boy calling you his Auntie and making your insides swell with pride. And finally, on a warm summer night, with her cherry red lips and coal black eyeliner, the two of you watching the sun set from the balcony of her expansive house, she opened up to you.

As the sky darkened and you shared champagne and strawberries in the open air, she told you about her family and her past. Her voice was smaller than you had ever heard it, such a powerful woman almost seeming meek as she bore her soul to you. She told you about Freddie, the headstrong and golden hearted man she had fallen for, and you intertwined your fingers when she spoke about his death. She told you about her reasons for arriving in London, cautiously speaking about a gang that roamed the streets back home, you listened intently, eyes wide when she revealed that the main members were of her own blood.

She trusted you inexplicably, telling you things that she had burrowed away for years and that meant the world to you. So under the moonlight, you tipped your head back and emptied your glass, blinking back tears as you explained your own past, the one you had been running from.

Now though, she pressed a kind hand to your shoulder, her eyes softening ever so slightly and it broke you away from your thoughts.“You don’t have to explain anything to me. I’ll tell Tommy to keep his cock in his pants.” She winked at you, making you let out the breath that you had been holding, a relieved chuckle escaping from your throat.

She tugged your sleeve gently, motioning to the overflowing pile of dog eared novels by her feet. “Come and help me sort all this out.” She said “And let me fill you in on my date yesterday.”

Ada phoned Tommy as soon as she arrived home. He answered on the third ring, his voice tired and thick with smoke, his exhaustion evident through the speaker. One mention of you however, and he perked up like he had downed three shots of espresso. Work had been fucking awful, and imaging you and those rosebud lips was a pleasant distraction from the ache in his skull.

Ada told him to back off, and he could practically feel his sisters stern expression despite being 100 miles away from her. “She’s too nice for you Tommy, and not interested. Besides aren’t there enough girls in Birmingham? Why do you have to come after the one I’ve actually made friends with?”

Tommy had rolled his eyes. He loved his sister, but he didn’t feel like explaining his reasoning to her. He knew that she would never approve, never really understand him.

“You know I want you to find someone, especially after...” She inhaled sharply, choosing her words carefully. “Look, Tommy, you’ll find someone, but just not (Y/N), yeah? She’s been through a lot.”

He hummed, not voicing his real thoughts, always liking to keep his cards close to his chest. He said his goodbyes and hung up, Ada’s words lingering in his brain. His spine had stiffened at the implication of Grace, he hated being reminded of the past, especially memories he was trying so hard to forget. But it wasn’t just that, there was something about the words she had chosen that had sparked a fire in his gut.

“She’s been through a lot.”

He wasn’t quite sure what she was insinuating, but to him, it made you all the more alluring. He would never pursue a woman who truly wanted nothing to do with him. He might not have been the textbook definition of a ‘good man’ but he respected those who turned him down - although it was very much a rarity. But there was something about you, something about the way that you had held his stare, the innocence in your eyes and the attractiveness that hung around you like sugar water.

He loved the chase, especially when the reward was as sweet as you.

—————————————————————-

He waited outside your flat, hands in his pockets and peaked cap low on his head. It was almost six and he knew that you would be returning from the hospital soon, so he crossed his legs, leaning on the doorframe with a cigarette between his lips, secondhand smoke curling in the air.

He heard you before he saw you; the hiss of the cold air as you fought with the heavy door, the clunk of your patent loafers across the concrete and the jangle of your keys in your palm. He smiled to himself. Watching as you walked up the stairs, rifling through papers in your hands and then looking up suddenly, your eyes widening with shock.

“Tommy.” You said, filled with genuine surprise, clutching your handbag tightly, sure that you would drop it otherwise.

He liked the way his name sounded on your tongue.

He reached forward, steadying your wobbling hands and collecting the papers before they could scatter down the hallway. You stiffened at the contact, but he held you secure.

“Is Ada alright?” You asked quickly, hoping his impromptu visit didn’t come with bad news. He looked down and felt his stomach twist at the sight of your long lashes and shining wide eyes.

He shook his head. “My sisters fine. I actually came here for you.”

“Me?”

“Ada rang me, and I wanted to apologise for being so forward. It wasn’t my intention.”

You straightened, pulling slightly away from his hands. “You could have called, or written a letter.” The words came out slightly sharper than you had hoped, but you felt bristled by his sudden appearance.

He smiled. A half tug that looked boyish and cheeky, almost a smirk, and you hated the way that it made your heart flutter. “Well, yes, but that would have meant not seeing you in person.”

You fought back your own embarrassed grin, feeling blush rise from your throat to the plump of your cheeks. A flicker of humour sparked in his eyes, feeling triumphant at getting even the smallest of responses from you. The heat around your collar was turning such a delicious shade of red, like a honeycrisp apple, and it was hard for him to look away.

“Let me take you to dinner.”

You shifted on one foot, trying not to look into his milky blue eyes, knowing that if you did he would have you hook, line and sinker. “Tommy... I don’t know.”

“Just one dinner and I’ll be out of your hair.”

You exhaled, feeling yourself starting to cave. “Okay. One dinner. And nowhere fancy.”

Five minutes later and you were out the door. You had slipped off your work uniform and stepped into a lavender beaded dress and a pair of modest kitten heels. You hated the way you double checked your reflection in the mirror, smoothing out the stray hairs by your forehead, placing a cool hand to your chest to try and level your breathing. You didn’t put on any makeup, you weren’t trying to give Tommy the wrong idea.

You reminded yourself that you were just going to dinner, as friends. Nothing more.

Tommy watched you under the shimmering lights of the club. The rhythmic clash of the jazz band echoed all around him, beautiful women laughed and swayed on the dance floor, and the air was thick with smoke and bitter whisky, but his attention was solely cast at you.

Your head was down, and you were picking at the food on your plate. The expensive bottle of red wine sat opened in the middle of you both, your glass untouched and his filled halfway.The owner had recognised him immediately and sent over the gift, and he didn’t miss the caution that flashed on your face at the gesture.

“Are you sure you don’t want a glass?” He asked, voice smooth like silk.

You looked up at him. “No, thank you though. I have an early shift in the morning.”

He nodded, cutting through his steak, a sliver of blood on his knife. “How long have you been a nurse?”

He already knew, but he wanted to hear your answer.

“Well, I’m technically not a nurse - not yet. I’m still training, but I only have a few months to go.” You smiled, and he watched as your whole face lit up as you talked about your passion. “I’ve always wanted to do it. Now I finally am.”

“Well, I think that’s very admirable.”

“And what do you do?”

“Oh. I’m a bad man.” He said, as if it was the most causal thing in the world. His cobalt eyes flickered from his plate to you, holding you hostage in his gaze.“But I’m sure Ada’s told you all about that.”

You inhaled. “I try not to judge people based on rumours.”

“Even if they hold some truth in them?”

You didn’t say anything. You swirled around the spaghetti on your plate, spearing your fork through a pea. After a moment you cleared your throat, daring to look up at him.

“I think the world has changed. Times have moved on, and sometimes it requires a firmer hand to get where you want to be.”

Tommy paused, genuinely taken aback by your reply. You had been so timid and placid before, but now there was an intensity to your words, one that he found particularly alluring.

“It doesn’t mean that I agree, but - ” You sighed. “A few years ago, I was turned down by a nursing school; they said I was too young and too inexperienced and... it really shattered my confidence. I was going to give up completely, but instead I decided to keep studying, and I was working three jobs to just make ends meet. When I applied again I made sure that there was no way they would reject me.”

Your eyes flickered up momentarily as you chewed on your upper lip. “All I’m saying is, sometimes you have to work hard to get what you want.”

Tommy mulled over your words, tongue running over his teeth. He picked up the stem of his wine glass and held it towards you in a toast. His eyes caught yours and his stare was unwavering, the edge of his lips unturned in a boyish smirk.

“To getting what we want.”

———————————————————-

You really, truly, honestly, didn’t want to enjoy your dinner with Tommy - but you did. The night was so easy, after a while you managed to find a comfortable niche and the conversation flowed like running water. As time passed you found yourself giving into habits that you thought you had left behind, like tucking a loose curl behind your ear, or giggling into your hands, a warm shade of pink staining your skin. Tommy watched you, the anchor on his chest lifting slightly, the way it always did when he found himself getting his way.

He walked you home with his suit jacket draped over your shoulders; despite your protests, leaving you smelling like whisky sours and cigarettes. He could feel your apprehension as you stood under the archway of your apartment building. The wind had picked up and rain was drizzling onto the both of you, and his stomach tightened when you looked up at him with raindrops coating your eyelashes. He was waiting for you to speak first. If he had his way, he would be joining you in your flat, pressing you up against the wall and kissing your lips until they were swollen. He wanted to untangle the braid in your hair, unlace the dress that made you look ethereal and feel you breathless under him, but he remained patient.

The truth was that even though you had only spent one evening alone, the constant buzz of work and life in his brain had faded into static. (There was only one woman who had ever made it fully fade, but now he knew now to take whatever he could get). He had genuinely enjoyed the night, even without the guarantee of ending it in your bed. It was pleasant to spend a few hours talking about something other than business deals or brutality, to fill silences with stories about films you had seen or your misbehaving patients.

He would be satisfied with a goodnight kiss, to taste the sweetness of your lips and feel the curve of your waist under his palm. He liked the way that the nerves you had started the night with were flittering under your skin once again; it made him feel good, it made him feel wanted, it made him feel powerful. It would be enough to sate him over until the next time you met up - because believe him, there would be a next time - but even he couldn’t stop the flare of surprise that splashed over his face when you simply handed him back his jacket and darted up the stairs.

“Thank you for dinner, Tommy. Have a good night.”

Underneath the broken bulb in your hallway, with his expensive patent shoes slowly filling with water, he let out a loud, genuine, chuckle.

—————————————

A few days passed, and whilst your evening with Tommy still lingered in your mind, work was much too hectic for you to be wrapped up in distractions. There were no more surprise bouquets or unannounced visits, and no phone calls at the end of your shifts either, you knew you should have been relieved, but you couldn’t ignore the tiny flicker of disappointment. You decided to tell Ada, mentioning your dinner casually the next time that you saw her, dropping it into conversation as though it wasn’t a monumental piece of gossip.

“You did what?” Her voice echoed around the expansive library and you playfully shushed her, pointing to the people reading on the floor below.

“It’s not that big of a deal!”

“Psh! Easy for you to say!” She huffed, elbowing you in the ribs as she meticulously rearranged the books on the shelf in front of her. “I thought you were... you know...” She waved her hand like she was wafting smoke from her face, a clear indication of what she thought you were going to do to her brother.

You sighed, wiping the dust from a hardcover. “I know, I know. But he’s... charming.”

“Yeah, like a fox.”

You laughed at her blunt tone. She turned away and continued working, her shoulders shrugging with her movements. “Just be careful, okay?”

“I will, mum.” You tugged on the bottom of her hair like a child, making her meet your line of sight. “Honestly, Ada, it was a nice night, but it’s not like it’s going to go anywhere. I have no plans to see him again - ever.”

Your intentions were shattered as you left the hospital one evening, stopping dead in your tracks when you recognised the distinct peaked cap and felt the unmistakable domineering aura all around you. You tried to bite back the smile threatening to take over your entire face when you saw him leaning against a red brick wall, tall and cool, the kind of man that would have a million songs made about him.

You couldn’t deny the twist in your gut when he smiled at you, so cheeky yet smooth like rich dark chocolate. You felt the envious glances of the other nurses leaving their shifts around you, bubbling with jealousy and curiosity. You didn’t even care that you would be the main topic of discussion at the next tea break on Monday, as much as you hated to admit it, you felt like the world around you was blurring, leaving nothing but the two of you.

“Is this a social call, Tommy? Or should I get the first aid kit.” You called out under the noise of the streets around you, your voice deceivingly controlled.

He flipped his leather notebook closed, one you hadn’t even noticed he was so engrossed in, sliding it into his pocket and uncrossing his legs, his eyes shining with humour.

“No, not tonight. Although I’ll know where to come if I ever need it.”

You came to a stop just before him, not trusting yourself to get too close.“What can I do for you, Thomas?”

He didn't comment on the space you had left between you, but you knew that he had noticed it. He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out his wallet, nimble fingers rifling through until he pulled out two stubs of paper.

“I have tickets for the play tonight.”

You felt your eyes widen as he showed you the passes. You had made an offhand comment at dinner about wanting to see this particular play, one that you didn’t think he had even noticed, but he was obviously more observant than you had given him credit for.

“Wow. That’s great.” You smiled, “Well, I hope you have a lovely night.” You winked at him, turning on your heel but he grabbed the edge of your sleeve, pulling you back towards him.

“I think it’ll be a little rude of me if I show up alone, and besides, a lot of these things tend to go over my head, I think I might need somebody to help me understand everything.”

You wanted to resist. You wanted to tell him no. You wanted to be strong and admit that the fortress you had built around yourself wasn’t ready to start crumbling down, not just yet.

But you couldn’t.

You knew that this could all be a mistake. Letting people in wasn’t something you were used to, especially not someone as charming and handsome as Tommy. But you found yourself liking him, as though he had some kind of magnetic hold over you, pulling you closer even when you wanted to run.

“Tommy I - It’s kind of you, but I don’t think it’ll be wise.”

“Please.” He said, and hearing such a vulnerable word coming from his mouth made your throat constrict. “I know that I’m being forward and feel free to tell me to piss off, but honestly, I had such a wonderful dinner with you and I would love to take you out again. And besides, you’re my only friend here in London.”

“What about your sister?”

“Oh we’re really not that close.” He teased.

You laughed, chewing on your lip so harshly you thought you might draw blood. Despite the protests in your brain you reached out and took a ticket, looking up at him with those big eyes that made his toes curl.

“Fine.”

The theatre was beautiful. It was wide and open, with red velvet seats and high ceilings. It was the prefect escape, laughing and gasping with the audience as the actors fought and danced on stage, magnificent hand painted back drops making you feel like you were no longer in London. You ate truffle coated popcorn and drank glasses of champagne, all sent over by the ushers that recognised Tommy instantly, practically bowing to him when you both arrived.

But Tommy truly couldn’t care less for whatever was happening in front of you both, because he was completely captivated by you. He liked when you tipped your head back when you laughed, he liked the way your eyes lit up and followed the characters on stage, as though you were in a trance. He followed the curve of your nose and the pout of your lip under the cream coloured lights, unable to fight back the smile when you noticed him, blush rising up your neck like a tidal wave.

He walked you home that night, just like he had before, his jacket slung over your shoulders and his hand ghosting against yours. You seemed more open, your anecdotes a little more personal and your laugh a little louder, and he really felt like he might be getting somewhere. He liked making you giggle and the way you tucked into his side when a car raced by a little too fast, and he wasn’t even disappointed when you simply handed back his coat at the end of the night, a ghost of a smile on your lips - if anything it made him want you more.

The morning after the play, with eyes blurred from sleep and a migraine brewing behind your eyes, you found a still warm lemon loaf and a container of expensive coffee on your doorstep. You smiled as you tied your hair up messily with a powder pink ribbon you had around your wrist, placing the coffee inside by the kettle and half of the sickly sweet treat in your handbag, knowing you would need it to soften up Ada when you inevitably told her about the evening you had shared.

She had rolled her eyes and scolded you; reminding you to be cautious. And you wanted to be, really, but there was something about him that made you ignore the warning signs hammering in your chest, and before you knew it you were back under his arm when he next showed up on your doorstep.

He took you to a horse show on the other side of London, telling you that he needed another pair of eyes and a consultant for helping him choose a new mare. You had told him you knew nothing about horses, and yet he persisted, pulling you in with that damned smile and those ocean blue eyes. You had managed to get one over on him though, meeting him at his car the next day, dressed in a blood red gown that made his breath get caught in his throat. You looked beautiful, ethereal even, with your curled hair and shy eyes. And that colour red, the colour of sin against such a gentle soul made the fire in the pit of his belly reignite whenever he looked at you, but worst of all, was the way that colour reminded him of her.

He didn’t want to be wallowing in the past. So he allowed himself to get sucked into you, allowed the smell of your perfume and the sound of your voice and the warmth of your body distract himself from the blonde beauty that was clawing back into his mind.

He was waiting for you in his matte black car on his last night in London, and you tried to ignore the thump of your heart when you realised that he wanted to spend his final day in the city with you. He drove to Hyde Park, the sun was high and the sky was the cloudless, a long stretch of blue that seemed to go on forever. You walked across the grass, keeping your hands laced together so you wouldn’t risk brushing your fingertips against his, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to hide the goosebumps that would rise on your skin.You watched him smoke, inhaling and exhaling smoothly, blowing out nicotine like it was water, and he smiled when he caught your eye.

“Why did you bring me here today?” You asked finally, when the two of you came to a stop by the edge of the pond, watching the ducks and swans swim between the reeds.

“I like appreciating beautiful things.” He said, tilting his head so he was looking you in the eye.

You sighed, watching the sun reflect diamonds from the water. “I don’t understand you, Tommy, and that makes me nervous.” He didn’t know what to say, and so he let you continue. “How much has Ada told you about me?”

“Nothing. She’s a good friend.”

“She’s my best friend.” You murmured, and he watched the way your eyes glossed over, like you were replaying a million memories in your head. “You know, she told me to stay away from you.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that.”

“I don’t know why you’re pursuing me.” Your voice was small, like the ripples that lapped over the top of the pond.

The truth is he didn't either. He knew it was wrong, using you as a way to get over Grace, but he’s never been known for having the most ethical methods. Doesn’t he deserve this? For everything he does, for the money he makes and the lives he’s built for his family, doesn’t he deserve something kind and pretty and gentle? Doesn’t he deserve a distraction from all the noise?

You reached into your handbag, rummaging around through the loose lipsticks and many receipts that you’ve shoved inside. He peered as you pulled out a small coin purse, rose coloured and no bigger than your palm. You unclasped the two little pearls at the top, and he noticed your fingers shaking ever so slightly, like a leaf in the wind.

You pulled out a picture and handed it to him, dog eared and greying but unmistakably you, laughing into the cheek of a young man, his arms slung over your shoulder. Tommy looked over at you, but you were watching the water, jaw clenched ever so slightly.

“Who is he?”

“Steven.” You cleared the lump residing in your throat, the one that always surfaced when you spoke about him. “We lived next door to each other, he was my first kiss, my first love, my first - everything.”

Tommy felt a pang in his gut like a sucker punch, he could hear the hurt in your words, he knows it too well, because it’s the same that echoes around his skull whenever he thinks about Grace.

You continued, “We were together since primary school, and all through secondary. I really thought we were going to be with each other forever.” You sniffled, and Tommy knows what you’ll say before you’ve even formed the words, because he’d been through the horrors himself. “He was a few years older than me though, and then he... and then he got drafted.”

“He was never made for the war. No one is, not really, but he was special. He was so kind and gentle and funny, and it wasn’t fair. We got married the day before he was sailing to France. I wore my mothers dress, it was too big and a few buttons were broken, but it was perfect. We were just kids in love.”

The silence that followed told Tommy everything he needed to know, and his gut felt heavy, like it was filled with lead. He wanted to reach out and touch you, the sadness radiating off of you like perfume, but he kept his hands to himself.

“How did it happen?” Tommy asked after a moment, knowing that you might not be able to bring up the subject unless he did.

“Second battle of Somme. Front line. They said he took the bullet instead of his comrade, jumped in the way to save him. They said he died quickly, that he wasn’t in much pain.”

“He died a hero.”

“He shouldn’t have died at all.”

Tommy agreed with that.

“The war took too many good men.” His voice was growing as sullen as his eyes, thinking back to a time that always sucked the life from him, his mind growing hazy with thoughts of the trenches and mud on his feet, sticky blood staining his hands.

“And destroyed those left behind.”

He inched closer to you. He was so tall and stoic, eyes focused on the water in front of you yet you felt completely seen, something about him making you feel content. Above you, the clouds were darkening, a chill whipping around you both. He brushed his shoulder against yours, the fabric making you shiver slightly, and he grabbed your wrist gently, intertwining your fingers with his, making the first move because he knew you couldn’t.

“Come on,” He said, voice raspy and thick like billowing smoke. “We don’t want to get stuck in the storm.”

The rain was torrential. It was almost comical how quickly the clouds gathered and darkened, spitting droplets from above that trickled down and splattered the both of you. You giggled as you ran to the car, Tommy holding his jacket above the two of you, your heels splashing through puddles. It felt like a weight had lifted from your chest, when you opened the car door and bolted inside, breathless and wild. It had always been hard to talk about Steven, the words getting stuck in your throat like thick honey, but the relief of having it out in the open was enormous. You didn’t realise just how much of the past you were holding onto.

Raindrops were scattered along Tommy’s fine leather seats, the bottom of your dress painted with a faint layer of mud. His windshield wipers squealed as the cleared away the water, the car thick with tension and heat rising from your damp bodies. It was late by the time you made it back to the centre of the city, the rain still cascading down loudly onto the pavement around you. You could hear your blood rushing to your ears, the kind of constant hum that made you feel as though you were being held underwater.

Your whole body was bubbling with apprehension, you could feel Tommy moving behind you, the edge of his jacket brushing against your arm. You couldn’t find your keys inside your handbag, struggling from adrenaline and the icy chill of the air. Wet hair clung to your forehead, and you were certain your mascara was halfway down your cheeks, and you turned to Tommy to apologise for your clumsiness, but he was already gazing at you.

You were looking up at him, so innocent and so gentle and so beautiful under the soft glow of the navy sky and the twinkling stars and all he really wanted was to kiss you senseless - so he did.

He tasted like sweet mint and nicotine, and you tasted like woodsmoke and wisteria. It wasn’t a gentle kiss, it wasn’t like stealing kisses in the alley when you were sixteen, or clumsy kisses in the bed you shared with Steven, this was intense and passionate and all consuming. Tommy allowed you to devour him, the smell of you overpowering his senses and he buried his soft aching hands in your messy hair.

His body was pressed against you, thick and hard against the velvet of your figure. You pulled away slowly, lips puffy and swollen and baby pink. You were blushing, red hot from nerves and exhilaration and you laughed sweetly against the crook of his neck, eyelashes fluttering against his flesh.

“Do you want to come inside?”

His fingertips were the paint coated brushes and your body was the perfect canvas. You reacted to his touch like it was everything you craved. Your kisses were open mouthed and messy, and he had to bite his tongue to stop the cascade of groans threatening to spill from his lips. Your pulses were synced, the low light of your bedroom made you look like a creature from a fairytale, and he touched you like you were made from glass. His hands were soft yet rough, you let him run his fingers through his hair and then leave bruises on your hip bones. He shuddered into your neck, sweat dripping onto your skin, whines leaving your mouth that he wanted to drill into his brain and remember for the rest of his life.

He was breathless. He closed his eyes as he laid down next to you, the sky outside black like coal. You had been perfect. He couldn’t hear the shovels. The usual constant battle in his brain was replaced by the salty memory of your skin, your hot breath against his ear, your legs tangling with his. He felt you next to him, curling into him slightly, your body still recovering and your toes twitching.

The bedroom was quiet, nothing but the creak of the wind against the window and the occasional pattern of rain against the glass. He felt his ears twitch when you opened your mouth, muffled and sleepy, a pang of sadness in your voice.

“Please don’t break my heart.”

He pretended to be asleep.

————————————————————-

He was gone when you woke up. You weren’t quite sure what you were expecting, but cracking your eyes open to the lazy sunrise and the emptiness of your bed was as painful as a bullet in your spine. You felt embarrassed, looking down at the marks of your skin as you scrubbed away the night in the bath, running a warm flannel over your skin so many times that your flesh turned red. You felt ashamed; ashamed that you hadn’t listened to your best friend and ashamed that you had put your trust in someone that you knew would hurt you.

But deep down, in the pit of your stomach, you couldn’t deny that you still liked him, still wished that he was with you. You knew it was wrong but you forgave him. You knew he had to leave early; perhaps he hadn’t slipped out the way you had thought, perhaps he had truly wanted to stay. You felt foolish and young and weak, but you missed the feeling of his lips and his skin, the weight of his hips against yours.

Two full weeks passed by until he showed up again. There were no calls, no surprise bouquets or impromptu visits, just the lingering feeling of shame on your body. You didn’t say anything to Ada, too mortified to admit that you had slept with her brother and he had run out before you had woken up. You knew that he was the one in the wrong, he was the one who deserved to feel like shit for treating you that way, but that didn’t stop the pounding of your own insecurities.

Rich raspberry wine and candied cherries, these were the remedy for a broken heart. You were sitting cross legged on the sofa, the radio crackling behind you, soft jazz lulling you into a relaxed daze. You were sewing the hem of one of your dresses, threading the needle and watching the stitches close. You had already downed two glasses of wine, loving the taste and the burn in your belly, and you groaned when you heard two sharp raps on the front door.

“Ron, did you forget your keys again?” You huffed, expecting to see your forgetful neighbour waiting for you, but almost catching your fingers in the door when you realised who it was instead.

“Hi.”

Piercing blue eyes and a jawline that could slice your palm, two things that you simultaneously adored and loathed. His hand curled around the door as you tried to slam it shut, pushing against you so it couldn’t be closed.

“Fuck off.”

“Please. Please. (Y/N).”

“No Tommy - Thomas. Fuck!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah? Well, I don’t give a shit.” You lied.

“Please just let me explain.” He said and you huffed, trying your hardest to not look at him for too long, it was like looking directly into the sun: painful and disappointing.

“I - No.”

“Please.”

Fuck him and that fucking voice.

You opened the door a crack, enough for him to slip through and into your flat. He looked so dark amongst the bright colours of your crockery and the yellow tulips planted on your windowsill. You moved backwards, trying to make yourself as small as possible, ignoring the ache growing inside of you, the ache to run into his arms and forgive him.

“I’m sorry for the way I left.” He scratched his forehead and cleared his throat, the sound echoing around the room. “There’s no excuse.”

“You made me look like a twat, Tommy.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that.” You said, but you weren’t sure if you meant it, liking the vulnerability in his words, the tenderness of his voice soothing you despite your inner anger.

He lifted his palm to run through his hair, jet black coat cloaking over him like a shadow. You saw it then, under the light of the blue moon, a gash tearing through the skin on his wrist.

“You’re bleeding.” You stated, and you saw his eyes widen slightly, looking at the wound on his arm as if he hadn’t noticed it before.

“Huh.”

“God, Tommy.” You inhaled, sucking air through your teeth, “Let me clean it, it looks like it needs stitches.” You hated yourself for giving in, knowing that the cut wasn’t that bad. It wasn’t like he was going to be leaving your flat in a stretcher, but you still cared for him, despite everything.

The smell of antiseptic wipes and the tangy metallic taste of blood filled your bathroom. You pressed on him a little too hard, smiling as he winced slightly. Neither of you spoke, letting the silence hang between the both of you, almost tangible. You could feel his eyes on you, those fucking sparkling eyes following the curve of your nose and the wave of your hair, lingering a little too long on your lips.

“I really am sorry.”

“Yeah, you said that.” You bit through the gauze, measuring it against his skin, anything to not meet his line of sight.

“I have a habit of ruining good things.”

You scoffed. “Do you think I’m stupid enough to fall for that line?”

“I thought you might hit me if apologised again.”

Against your better judgment, you laughed. “Yeah, I might have.”

His palm, warm and heavy and reminding you of the pressure of his body on top of yours, clasped over your own, making you still.

“Have I fucked everything up?” He asked. You didn’t say anything, not trusting your own voice. You felt the roughness of his fingertips circling your skin, languid like waves lapping across the shore. He inched closer towards you, smelling like fresh crisp apples and old cigarette butts, managing to always be the perfect mix of chaos and control. “Because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

You should have pushed him away, but you didn’t. You gave into the darkness of his blue eyes, the ring of lust forming around his pupils and the desire stirring in your belly like bubbling water. He tasted so sinful yet sweet and you were the perfect remedy for the terrible day he had, so receptive and angelic under his touch.

“If you rip your stitches, you’ll have to redo them yourself.”

He laughed into the soft, buttery flesh below your jugular, kissing your collarbones as his hands dragged you impossibly closer, lips crashing onto yours.

You fell asleep first. Hair cascading on your silk pillowcase, and he connected the freckles on your back like they were constellations. He could hear the gentle drip of the tap in the bathroom, and

the hum of the city around you. The noise in his head had stopped, but it still remained like a dull static in the back of his mind. He pushed it away though, focusing on the calming energy of your body and the tenderness of your touch.

He would be gone tomorrow.

He’ll let you wake up to him, he’ll drink the coffee in your kitchen and fuck you under the golden sunlight, open mouthed kisses shared in the confines of your apartment. But then he’ll leave again, giving you just enough to allow him to come back. He craved you, but it was medicinal, like a hit of opium when the shovels got too loud, not something he could afford to indulge in.

He looked over at you, fast asleep, your nose twitching slightly. He can’t give you what you want or what you deserve, but just for the night, in the quiet of your bedroom, with his hands on the curve of your hips, he’ll be the man that you want him to be.

—————————————————————-

His visits were sporadic and unpredictable. He would show up out of the blue, lurking around the back streets like a nomad, knocking on your door just before midnight, his hands covered in blood. On those nights you would clean him up, neither of you would speak as you washed away the crimson from his skin, rubbing ointment on the growing purple bruises on his knuckles. He would kiss you feverishly and wildly, desperate to feel your body so soft and pliant under his. Those nights he craved control, and you were the only person who would give it completely to him.

Sometimes he would show during the day, with a wide smile and an expensive suit, a bouquet of flowers in his hands. He would take you to dinner or for walks down the canal, you might sit curled in his lap at the pictures or perhaps drive to a new city, his hand in yours, allowing you to pretend that you weren’t just the girl he came to when he wanted to feel something.

He would take you gently, almost romantically. In the back of his car or at a hotel that cost more for one night than your months rent, moulding your body under his like clay. He’d make you moan for him, the prettiest sound he’s ever heard, and he’ll relish in the attention you’ll give him. You’ll be the one thing that calms him after a hard days work, it’ll be your body and touch that unclench his fists and help calm his mind. He uses you like snow, strong, hard hits that leave him gasping for breath.

He’d always be gone before the sunrises. He’d wait for you to be asleep, hair around your head like a halo, lips puffy and swollen from clashing with his, fingertip shaped bruises across your hips. He’d never stay long enough to hear the disappointment in your voice, see the gloss that coats your eyes, the hurt pounding in your chest.

It stings like alcohol on a wound even when you’re expecting it. When you wake up and your bed is cold and empty, and your body is missing the warmth of his. You’ll give yourself a few moments to cry, take a scalding hot bath and scrub his smell from your flesh, tell yourself over and over that this is the last time. Never again. But you know as you make your way home, with a clouded head and aching legs, that the next time he shows up, you’ll let him stay.

———————————————————-

It had been almost a month.

A month of complete silence. You felt stupid but not surprised, the sadness nothing more than a dull pain in your chest now. You felt like you were just existing, not living. Constantly waiting for him to show up at your door and make your world start spinning again. You tried to distract yourself with work, but hearing the ladies gossip in the cafeteria about their loving boyfriends and amazing dates made the hole in your heart throb.

You hadn’t told Ada what had been going on, but she was your best friend, and you were certain she had already sussed it. You’d been skipping shifts at the library, spending more of your time cooped up in your flat or the hospital, opting for overnight shifts, anything to distract you from the loneliness of your bed.

Your cupboards were bare, cups of tea gone cold dotted all over your flat, and cobwebs starting to appear in the corners of your walls. You needed to go to the grocer and buy something that wasn’t bread or wine or chocolate. You were rooting through your purse, hands smelling like copper when you heard the shrill ring of your doorbell. Your heart stopped, but you didn’t get your hopes up; you were done waiting around for him like a bloody border collie.

You could see her silhouette behind the door, raven coloured ringlets and red lipstick. You sighed, running your fingers over the creases in your jumper before you opened the door, expensive french perfume wafting into your flat.

“You’re avoiding me.” She said sharply, waltzing inside, thick fur jacket brushing past you.

“No I’m not, Ada.”

“Yes you bloody are!”

You watched as she rummaged through your cupboards, pulling out two glasses and then flopping down on your sofa and patting the seat next to her. She grabbed a bottle of vodka from inside her handbag, almost bigger than your head, and she started to pour.

“Tell me everything.”

So you did. It was embarrassing and awkward, but damn did it feel good to get off your chest. Ada sat watching intently, pursing her lips and sighing when appropriate, burgundy nails tapping on your table when she got particularly annoyed. She threw her head back and finished her second glass, faint cherry red staining the rim.

“I’m sorry I’ve been such a shit friend.” You apologised, gulping the remaining droplets of your own drink. “I just - God, I had no idea what to tell you.”

“You know you can tell me anything.” Her voice was ernest and for the first time in a long time you actually felt like you could breathe, Ada always had that effect on you. She had a way of making people feel comfortable.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.” You sighed, cradling your knees to your chest. “I was too embarrassed.”

“It’s not your fault, babe, Tommy’s a dickhead!” She shoved you lightly and you smiled halfheartedly. “And I would tell him that in person! Not that I’ve seen him since Grace came back.”

You felt your spine go rigid.

“Grace?”

Annoyance painted Ada’s face, and she pursued her lips like she was sucking on a lemon.“He didn’t tell you about her? That she came back?”

Not explicitly, but she had always been there. Ada had once told you about her brothers lover, the beautiful blonde vixen who had turned his world on its axis. That was partly why you were so hesitant, knowing you couldn’t compare to a woman like her, but Tommy had made you trust him, and look how that turned out.

Now you were slapped with the cold, hard truth, and it hurt.

She was the woman always on the tip of his tongue, the one that he saw when he closed his eyes. You were the body he used, the temporary buzz and the hit of pain relief, but she was the one he really wanted, the woman he pretended you were.

“No. Must have slipped his mind.” You laughed falsely, feeling tears build behind your eyes. You inhaled, your voice quiet. “But Grace - she was the one wasn’t she? You know, the one who...”

The one who broke his heart. The woman he loved, the woman he really wanted.

She hesitated, but then nodded sadly. “Yes.”

“God I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“I’m sorry baby.” Ada pulled you into her arms, cradling you against her chest like she was comforting her son. You let the tears fall, felt them cascading down your cheeks like a waterfall. Ada stroked your hair and pulled you close, and you closed your eyes, finally giving into the sadness.

———————————————————-

It was slow - the healing process. Falling back into a routine of work and chores, and eventually starting to laugh and smile again. You passed your final exam with flying colours, finally becoming a registered nurse. Ada was there with Karl, cheering you on when you left the hall with papers in your hands. You continued working at the library, hiding behind the bookshelves at the back with Ada, clutching your stomach from laughing so hard, your knees weak. You made new friends with the ladies at work, visiting clubs and bars on the weekends, trips to the pictures after a long day on the job. You even got asked out on a date, with a handsome doctor called Dennis who always made you a cup of coffee in the morning and saved you the donut with pink sprinkles he knew you liked.

It took time, but you were finally starting to feel the wound scab over, but of course, a hurricane in the form of a smart mouthed gangster was just enough to blow down everything you had worked so hard in repairing.

Three months of no contact had passed.

It was late. Hot water billowed around you as you stirred your tea bag, inhaling the sweet smell of cinnamon and lemon. You pulled your satin robe tight against your skin, admiring the soft blush pink colour and shuffling towards the bedroom in your matching slippers. You hummed as you turned down your bed, longing for the sweet embrace of your covers, but you were pulled from your daydream by pounding on your front door. You sighed, ignoring it and continuing to fluff your pillows, but when it didn’t stop, you frowned and stormed towards the assailant.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” You muttered, swinging the door wide open, but the words evaporated like ocean spray when you came face to face with the man you least wanted to see. It was such a cruel sense of deja vu, and you could feel your face growing red hot with anger.

“Get the fuck away from me.”

He ignored you, stepping over the threshold and back into your life. You held your hands up, defensively and aggressively, your brain not knowing whether to fight or fly. You inhaled loudly, you didn’t want to give in, didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you upset.

“Please, Tommy. Just go.”

“I needed to see you.” His words were quick, raspy and urgent, but you brushed them off like they were nothing.

“You’ve seen me, now leave.”

“Not without speaking to you. Let me explain.”

“Was she busy?” You spat. “Is that why you’re here? She’s away so you think you’ll just come and see me and I’ll let you in? Let you touch me? Fuck you, Tommy.”

His eyes were wild, frustration painting his features. “It’s not like that.”

“Not like that?” You spat. “Not that you were using me as a tool to get over another woman? After everything I told you - ” You stopped, not wanting to think about your past. It was too painful.

He came closer, walking towards you so cautiously and softly you might have laughed. “Just hear me out.”

“Why the bloody hell should I listen to you?”

He shrugged exasperatedly, your words striking his skin like a branding, because you were right. He had no moral high ground or proper explanation for the way he had treated you.

“I’m fucked up. Too fucked up for you.” And he’s telling the truth. You’re so pretty and honest and kind, even when you’re crazy with rage, your whole body is practically buzzing with anger and you’re still so beautiful and light and he knows that he ruined you. You trusted him, you confided in him, and he still left.

“I can’t believe I was falling so such a goddamn righteous asshole!” You seethe, raking a hand through your hair. His eyes widened but you merely scoffed, if looks could kill he would have been swallowing dirt. “Don’t act like you didn’t know. Don’t act like you have no idea what I was feeling for you.”

He didn’t know what to say, and he could his stone cold heart breaking.

“I can’t do this anymore.” You sniffed. “This is the last time I want to see you.”

“Just let me stay, let me make it up to you.”

He moves closer, wanting to feel your hair between his fingers, the soft embrace of your touch and the sweetness of your lips. Things had been going wrong all day, the business struggling and the cops getting suspicious and all he could think about was holding you. He wanted to try, he needed to feel you, he needed to feel something real. He wanted to apologise, pull you under him and make the both of you forget. For one more night he didn’t want to be Tommy Shelby, he just wanted to be the man who got to hold you.

You inhaled. “I’m seeing someone else.”

He felt a knife slice through his abdomen. He had no right to feel the shock and jealousy prickling through his skin, not after what he had done, but he still felt the raging green envy bubbling inside of him. He was being completely unreasonable and cruel, but a part of him had really hoped you would wait for him, but it’s that unfair mentality that had cost him.

“What?”

“I’m seeing someone - someone from work.” You said, finally gaining the nerve to stand up for yourself, wanting to wash away six months of your life you had given to him. “We’ve been going out for the past few weeks.”

“Who is he?” His tone was more demanding than he meant it to be, the shock and twinge of insecurity he felt from your announcement was making his words sharper.

“You don’t get to ask me that.”

He needed to take back control of the conversation, he needed to explain. He knew just how much he had fucked up, he’d been gone for too long this time, and his own selfishness might have cost him the best thing he had going for him. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“No, you just never meant for me to find out.”

“That’s not true, (Y/N). Listen to me, I - ”

“I have a busy day tomorrow, Thomas.” You said firmly, putting your foot down and refusing to let him try to right his wrongs - you had worked too hard on moving on. The hidden meaning in your words made Tommy’s jaw clench, his hands reflexively flinching at his sides. “So, please, just... just go.”

You were crying, but trying so hard to hide it. He could see the gloss coating your eyes and the flush rising from your chest, as though your body was leaking sadness from every pore. He felt his heart pound against his ribs. He was so used to getting what he wanted, in business and in private, and yet he felt like he might have just lost it all. So he turned and left, shutting your front door and trying to tune out the sound of your sobs, feeling even more empty inside then when he had arrived.

—————————————————————

He finally got what he wanted.

Grace was sitting opposite to him, her knees brushing against his, her smell so familiar and dizzying, but yet it didn’t feel right. She was a vision in a sea foam dress, with her sunshine coloured hair and perfect features, her eyes filled with a million stars that he could once spend hours getting lost in, but not anymore.

It felt so fake, so forced. The conversation didn’t flow, his words were stagnant, getting caught in his throat. She was looking right at him, the same way she did when they would wake up tangled in one another, at a time in his life that he used to think he was the happiest.

But maybe that had changed.

He was finding pieces of you in her. He knew that Grace only drank red wine, but out of habit he almost poured her a glass of bourbon; because that was what you liked. The way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was nervous, the same way you did. How the shawl draped over her shoulders would look perfect on you.

He was sitting across from the woman of his dreams, but none of it felt right, because she wasn’t you.

Perhaps his dreams had changed.

He tuned out Grace as she spoke, her voice not calming him as it once had. All he could think about was what he had lost. He had been a prick, he knew that for certain. He hadn’t meant to not call you, to leave you in the lurch like he did, he just didn’t like anyone getting too close.

When he was in Birmingham he was the leader of the Blinders. He was smart and strong and thought things through so nobody else had to. He was the kingpin, the man who ruled with an iron fist and got exactly what he wanted, when he wanted it. But with you, in London, he had allowed himself a sliver of peace. He let himself sleep next to you, peach coloured moon dancing over your bodies, curtains blowing in the wind. After a long day he found himself driving to see you. Wanting to see that shy smile that would make his knees buckle, feeling like a teenager even when he had beat a man half to death mere hours before.

You were a forest fire. Just a small spark, the smell of your hair, the velvet of your skin, the sound of your laugh, and his entire world was alight. He remembered taking you out, the feel of your small hand against his, genuinely wanting to know how your day had been. He remembered the sound of your laugh, when he had you pressed up against the window of his car, in between ticket stubs and cigarette butts and road maps, unable to stop the grin making its way onto his own face.

Even in the months he was gone; when Campbell came back and turned his world back to shit, in the quiet of his office, his mind always wandered back to you. He thought about you whenever he saw fog rolling over the hills or he felt rain patter across his shoulders, he would lose himself for a moment and his brain would conjure up a picture of you. When he saw John and Esme at the Garrison, soft gentle touches reserved for one another, that stupid dopey grin on his brothers face, he thought of you.

It was more than just sex and he was a fool for thinking that that was all it had been.

“Tommy? What’s the matter?”

It was Grace. Her voice like ripe berries and warm milk, but entirely wrong. He blinked, remembering where he was, feeling the velvet of the sofa under his suit. She smiled when she realised she had captured his attention, slightly smug and self assured, and she continued her story of the joys of living in New York.

Tommy looked at her, really looked at her for the first time since they had met up. Here they were, in a five star hotel room outside of Birmingham, with champagne and caviar and imported chocolates. But she’s married, to somebody else. And yet, she had rang him and expected him to drop everything and join her.

He almost laughed at the irony of the situation.

Grace was like the first sunshine after being caught in a storm, but perhaps he’d grown to like the rain. He’d been chasing her for too long, like a fucking puppy, and now she was sitting centimetres apart from him, and he realised that she didn’t look all that magical. He thought about the anguish he felt when she left, the pure heartache that almost split him in two when he found out she had married another man, the pain of sleeping alone once more - and it makes him falter, because that’s exactly the same way he’d treated you, and you deserved so much more.

He knew Grace wanted. She wanted to fuck. She wanted to feel something other than her pathetic new husband, she craved the feel of power and the memory of what it’s like to run around with the devil. Her hand moved from the stem of her wine glass to the top of his thigh, a gentle, almost timid touch, testing the waters before she fully submerged. This is what he’d wanted since the very minute she boarded that train, to be back with the woman he loved, but now her soft caress feels like a slap. She didn’t notice his internal struggle, wine drunk and ready to fall back into his arms, but all he could picture was you with another man, his hand resting on the silk of your skirt.

He felt the familiar tick in his jaw, the way his knuckles flexed unconsciously, he knew he had no right but jealousy was eating away at him. How fucking stupid had he been? And now another man would have the pleasure of taking you out, making you laugh and blush under diamond chandeliers. Another man would get to walk you home, listen to your voice and then kiss you under the silver moon. He couldn’t even bear to think of the next part, the mere thought making flames ignite around his pupils.

“Tommy?” Grace asked, her eyes big and round like saucers, lips parted and just waiting to be pressed against his. She watched as he stood up, his knees clashing against the bar cart, far more flustered than she had ever seen him before.

“I have to go.”

———————————————————-

The club was loud, the bands instruments following you everywhere you went. The room was painted red and gold, shimmering lights and glowing pink shades reflecting from every surface. You were in a booth in the corner, nursing a glass of bourbon and eating sweet green olives, vinegar and alcohol on your tongue. Dennis was sat opposite, clad in a fine suit with a fresh haircut and laughing at his own anecdote, his hands gesturing wildly as he retold a story you had already forgotten.

You liked him, you did. He was nice and funny and handsome, - but he didn’t make sparks dance on your skin when he touched you, and he didn’t occupy your mind every second you were apart. Maybe that was for the best, maybe you needed to be sensible and date with your head, not your heart, because that was why you always got hurt.

You mind had been muddled since Tommy came back. All of your hard work had crumbled to pieces when he had knocked on your door. It was beyond frustrating, the way that he managed to crawl back inside your conscience with just a few words. You tried to blink away everything that happened, focusing on Dennis sitting on the other side of the booth, losing yourself in his kind smile and bright eyes.

He reached out and patted your hand with his, and you noticed how smooth his fingers were, not like the rough calloused pads that you could remember digging into your thigh and - you stopped, determined not to let your mind wander. You weren’t being fair to Dennis, he deserved someone who would give him their undivided attention, and didn’t spend the evening think of another man.

You let Dennis order another round of drinks, the conversation coming back round to the hospital - the only thing you seemed to have in common. You were just about to ask after a patient who you had heard wasn’t fairing very well, when you heard a commotion coming from the main hall. You raised your eyebrows and twisted around, trying to get a better view but you were blocked mostly by the sea of bodies. You turned to look at Dennis, but watched his own gentle brown eyes fill with shock.

“I need to talk to you.”

Fucking hell.

You felt flames licking your skin and ice cold water on your head at the same time. That stupid brummie accent that made your toes curl even after all the shit he had put you through. You saw surprise flash across Dennis’ face, his brows knitted at the stranger who had approached your booth. You didn’t want to turn around and face him, but you didn’t want the situation to get out of hand. You risked it. Swivelling in your seat so you could see him fully, your eyes flittering over the curls in his hair and the dammed sea blue colour of his irises.

“Tommy.” You kept your voice as level as you could, but it was proving hard. “Tommy, what the hell are you doing here?”

“We need to talk, come outside with me.”

His stare was so heated that it almost made you feel uncomfortable, and his hair was tousled, the way it always got when he ran his hands through it repeatedly. You could tell he was jealous, not missing the way his eyes had darted to Dennis’ hand covering your own. You could see the clench of his jaw and the tension in his forehead and it made you feel good, it was about time he had a taste of his own medicine.

“She doesn’t have to go anywhere with you.” Dennis said, rising from his chair so he could meet Tommy’s line of sight. You reached out and squeezed his wrist slightly, willing him not to get involved, not for your sake, but for his own.

“I’ve had a a really fucking long day and I think that it’s best if you don’t piss me off.” Tommy spat, his voice husky and exasperated, pointing a finger across the table. Coming face to face with you and your new lover was enough to tear the strings that were holding him together, he wasn’t a patient man and all he wanted was to explain himself, but it was hard when he was in such a jealous haze. His mind and his mouth weren’t working as one, he was losing his composure, and quickly.

“Stop it.” Your voice was stern, cold enough to turn him to stone. You could feel dozens of eyes on you, watching you all like you were performing at a play, mouths agape and eyes wild with anticipation. You blinked up at Tommy and you could see him soften, the hurt evident in your features enough to make him want to tear out his hair, furious at himself for how he always fucks things up.

You turned to Dennis, heart clenching as he held his ground despite being much smaller and a million times less intimidating then the gangster behind you. You gave him an apologetic look, knowing that the only way to diffuse the bomb that was Thomas Shelby was to speak to him alone.

“Thank you for everything, Dennis.” You said, shaking your head at the insanity of it all. “I’m so sorry, please forgive me for how this evening has turned out.”

He brushed off your words, as gentlemanly as ever, shooting a harsh look at Tommy. “Are you sure you’re alright going with him?”

You could see Tommy open his mouth to spit back something, his hands clenched at his sides, but you pushed him roughly in the torso and stormed past, heading for the back doors.

Your face was hot and red with shame, you could still taste alcohol on your tongue, but it had turned bitter and sour. You could hear him behind you, his expensive shoes clattering on the cobbled streets, his heavy exhales in the dark. He reached out, his touch timid and reserved despite the scene he had just created. At the feel of his fingers on your upper arm you pushed him off, walking further away into the alley.

“(Y/N)!) He called, but you ignored him, wiping away your tears before swirling on your heel, voice laced with venom.”

“It wasn’t enough for you to break me back at my flat?” You shouted, hearing your heart shatter with every syllable. “You had to come and do it in public too? What the fuck is wrong with you Tommy?”

“I know. I know.” He came towards you but you stumbled back, holding up a finger to keep him away from you. “I shouldn’t have made a scene.”

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” You cried, it was hard enough to even try to get over him, but now he was making it impossible and you weren’t sure how much more you could take.

“I’m in love with you.”

You couldn’t stop the tears now. It was the words you had been begging him to say, the words that you had wanted to hear since you had first met, but they just made you weep harder. His face was so ernest, more honest than you had ever seen it, but it was so goddamn hard to believe him.

“You’re not in love with me, Tommy.” You murmured, swallowing the thickness in your throat. “You just want me because you saw me with another man.”

He shook his head, reaching out to touch you under the yellow glare of the streetlights. The feeling of you in his arms was so right to him, so familiar and warm that it felt like coming home. The tear streaks on your cheeks shone like the stars above the two of you, so beautiful and so heartbreaking and he needed to let you know how he felt.

“I’m in love with you.” His voice was firm, and even though you wanted to you couldn’t look away from him, trapped in his gaze. “It’s always been you. And I should have told you sooner.”

You stopped, everything you had wanted to say evaporated like ocean spray around the two of you, the water crashing so loud you could hear it in your ears. You were tired, and confused, half of you wanted to slap him and the other half wanted to fall into his arms. Instead, you sat down on the curb, feet planted in the gutter, dropping your head in your hands.

“I need a cigarette.”

Tommy smiled. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his packet and a lighter, giving you a smoke before lighting the end, watching the flame flicker in your eyes. You took three long drags, trying hard to control your breathing and rivalling emotions before you spoke again.

“How did you find me?”

He inhaled, puffing on his own cigarette. “I’ve had men watching you since the first time we met.”

You snapped around to face him. “You’ve fucking what?”

“You really think I was going to let you go around the city without protection?”

“I don’t know what to think.”

“I know.”

The silence was deafening and you hated how you instinctively wanted to move by his side, press your body up against his for warmth. Instead you looked up at the navy coloured sky, counting the stars and pretending you couldn’t feel him watching you.

“I fucked up.” He spoke. “ I used you and I hurt you.”

You bit your lip to try and stop the tears from falling once again.

“I was heartbroken because of Grace, and I needed a distraction.”

“A distraction.” You repeated.

“I’m sorry. It’s redundant now, I know. But I am. I fucked everything up and I’m sorry.”

The tension between you was almost palpable, like the nicotine that was surrounding you both. You could feel the sincerity in his tone, but you also knew that he could talk a man out of his house if he really wanted to.

“Did she turn you down?” You countered, facing him. “Is that why you’re here with me?”

He shook his head, tongue running over his teeth, wisps of smoke leaving his lips. “I saw her for the first time tonight.” He said, honestly. “I sat across from her and I realised that she meant nothing to me, not anymore.” You felt him beside you, the pressure of his thigh digging into yours, desperate to get you to look at him.

“It was just sex.” You muttered, looking for some kind of safety net to stop you from making the same mistake, no matter how badly your heart is pleading you to fall onto him.

“Don’t fucking say that. Don’t lie to me.” He stammered, as though your words had truly hurt him.

“You treated me like shit, Tommy. How can I ever trust you?”

“I can’t promise I won’t fuck something up. I’m a bad man and I do bad things, but I swear, right, on my fucking life - that I will never do anything to hurt you.”

He was so close to you. The strong man so weak as he brushed his nose against yours. He felt years younger, and felt the overwhelming ache to drag you into his arms and kiss you senseless.“I need you with me. I can’t do any of this without you - And will spend every day proving to you just how much you fucking mean to me.” He whispered, words trailing off into the

crown of your hair.

You couldn’t stop it. All of the warning bells in your head extinguished like candles, and all you could think about was him. He had hurt you, dug a knife into your rib cage and left you to bleed, and perhaps a better woman would have left him sitting in the gutter, but you knew that the two of you were bound together - just as beautiful and broken as one another.

You shook your head, looking up at him through your eyelashes, the man who had turned your life upside down. You didn’t want to think anymore - so you didn’t, instead you smashed your lips onto his, making his head spin wildly, losing himself in you.He’s always had a high tolerance, but somehow, just one touch, just the brush of your lips against his, the heat of your breath on his skin, has him utterly, completely, wasted

“Please don’t break my heart.” You said, reminiscent of the first time you had slept together, pressing your forehead against his. He breathed you in, the smell of violets and salt, warm coffee and vanilla, the scents that he wished he could bottle. He pressed his lips to yours, claiming you as his as much as proving he was yours. He relished the taste of you, his kisses greedy and passionate, making sure that you were still there and knowing that he would never let you go again.

“I won’t.”

And it’s a promise he’ll keep.

#Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby oneshot #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby oneshot #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders oneshot #fic #orion writes

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mythologyfolklore · 3 years

Text

Ares and Athena through the years - Ch. 23

Chapter twenty-three: A lesson for Athena

Athena's mind was reeling with questions.

Why was her father sending her to Ares' office of all places?

So many possibilities went through her head, one more absurd than the other.

When she arrived at her destination and looked inside, the office was – apart from the stacks of paperwork – minimalistic and surprisingly clean and tidy.

Ares was working through piles of papers (probably letters), signing some and stamping others.

Athena knocked at the door frame and he looked up.

“Oh hey, Daddy's Owl”, he greeted her, then returned his attention to his paper work.

For a few seconds she was agitated both at the nickname and at being ignored, but then he looked up again and frowned. “Whatcha waitin' for? Sit down. Or ya wanna stand there all day?”

Athena sighed (mostly at his way of talking) and sat opposite him.

“Why am I here?”, she asked.

Ares stamped another paper (because Athena could read upside down, she could tell, that it was a “DENIED”-stamp) and finally focussed on her.

“Okay”, he said, “So I petitioned Zeus and grandaunt Thémis to be allowed to show ya some of my work. To make sure, that bullshit like with the Romans won't happen again.”

“Why is it just some of your work?”, Athena asked. She couldn't help but be curious about this kind of work, which was so different from what she knew about Ares, and this didn't seem to suit him at all.

“Right, I'll explain.”

“This sounds really wrong”, she muttered, making him snicker.

“Eh, don't worry, Daddy's Owl. You'll live. So this is my paperwork for the day. It's sorted into several piles.”

He pointed at the stacks and elaborated: “The one in front of me is the work I still gotta do. The rest is stuff I've already finished or which isn't my responsibility. The three piles on the right are my business. On the left is stuff for the other gods that somehow ended up with me, but isn't my responsibility. I'll sort it into folders and later Hermes will come to pick 'em up and distribute them. Though when you an' I are done here, you can take yer own folder with ya.”

“And what is in that wooden box?”, Athena asked curiously and pointed at a red box, which was also on Ares' right side.

“That's where I put the confidential and/or really important stuff. Anyway, I'll start by showin' ya, where everything is. Follow my lead.”

“This feels even more wrong than 'I'll explain'.”

Ares cackled.

“Awww, it's nothin', Daddy's Owl!”, he teased and ruffed her head (Athena resisted the urge to break his hand). “Once you've got it all, I'm sure it won't last! Anyway …”

He opened a side door and gestured for her to go inside: “Ladies first.”

Athena smiled lopsidedly and entered the other room.

It was dark, but when Ares turned the lights on, there were shelves filled with files and crystals.

“The newest stuff is here in the front”, Ares started and knocked at the shelf to his left. “The latest prayers to Zeus. This is stuff that ain't top priority, but too important not to pass on to him. I always do that in the mornin', so these here are pretty new. Unless they're really urgent, I keep them here till next day. Or if I can, I answer them myself.”

Athena frowned. “You're allowed to do that?”

Ares shrugged: “Sure. As long as it ain't too major, Zeus doesn't mind. Actually, he likes havin' as little paperwork as possible.”

Athena rolled her eyes, recalling how eager Zeus had been to delegate his paperwork onto her, when Ares had gone for his world journey.

The red-eyed war god went on: “Anyway, the shelves on the right hold the mail actually directed to me. Except for the five in the back, they hold the stuff directed to grandaunt Thémis. But she always gets her mail directly, so this is work she's already taken care of. Obviously only the stuff important enough to be kept. Once a month she, Zeus and I sit together and sort out the spam. Stuff that isn't relevant and worth keeping anymore gets shredded. Otherwise everything will get cramped and cluttered and we don't need that.”

Athena nodded in acknowledgement. That was sensible so far.

Ares sighed: “Yeah, that's all in here you had to see. Back into my office.”

“Wait, what about that one over there?”

She pointed at a closet at the back of the room that was covered in locks and chains.

Whatever was in it was probably top secret, but maybe her half-brother would at least give her a hint as to what it concealed …

“You know my answer, Daddy's Owl. Now don't look so disappointed”, Ares added at seeing his half-sister's expression. “Did you seriously expect me to tell ya what's inside a locked closet? Anyway, let's go back. We got a few more things to talk about, you an' me.”

They returned to Ares' office.

In the meantime the unfinished stack on his desk had been doubled and he groaned at the sight.

“I was almost done for the morning!”, he lamented, while Athena snickered.

Her half-brother gave her a killer stare, before opening one of the drawers and picking out a few papyrus scrolls.

“These will interest ya”, he remarked and unrolled them.

Athena bent over the papyri, read them and frowned. “But … these are my letters to the Roman gods.”

“Copies of them”, Ares corrected. “They wouldn't give me the actual letters. But I didconvince them to give me these copies.”

“How and why?”

“How – ya don't wanna know. Why – because I wanted to see what exactly pissed them off about your letters. And now that I've read them, it's high time we discuss that out of character diplomatic blunder of yours.”

Athena clenched her teeth.

Why, why did Ares have to bring that up! That cursed incident that still haunted her mind and drove her to the brink of madness, whenever she thought about it too hard. The utter humiliation of making a grievous mistake and it getting fixed by … him.Not Hermes, not Apollon or Zeus, or even Poseidon, no, of all the gods dwelling on Olympos, it just had had to be-

“… Uh, Athena? Hey! Hellooo! Earth to Pallas Athena! Oi, Daddy's Owl! Snap out of it!”

She jumped, when Ares snapped his fingers in front of her face.

The god of terrible war was folding his arms and looking at her, like she had a mental problem.

“See? This is why we gotta talk about it. Because you've been butthurt about this for twenty Olympian Years and it's getting freaky! Aren't you supposed to be more wise and rational than this? Then again, a bit more than five mortal centuries ago you and my mother decided that a perfectly fine city had to fall, because one random prince didn't pick ya to be beauty queen.”

“Shut. Up.”

Thankfully, he got the hint and stopped talking.

Ares observed each tiny shift in Athena's facial expressions, as he waited for her to calm down.

This situation was even worse than he had thought.

Of course he had sensed the anger boiling inside her, the sombre frown that always indicated when she was thinking about that day. He was the god of rage, after all.

But he hadn't expected it to still be that hard for her!

For a moment he considered telling her to talk it out with Psykhe, but he didn't feel like getting disembowelled.

Only when he was sure, that it was safe, did he unroll one papyrus and sigh: “Alright, Athena. We're gonna do this your way. Namely, go over the whole thing, analyse it and figure out what went wrong. Whatcha say?”

Athena stared. “Alright, who the Tartaros are you and what have you done to my half-brother Ares?”

At that he couldn't help but cackle: “Sorry, Daddy's Owl, it's still me! Your big brother Ares, Destroyer of Men, Bearer of the Bronze Shield, Stormer of Cities, insatiable in war- why are you laughing?!”

(He was still proud of himself for breaking the ice.)

By the time they were done, Athena felt like a huge weight was off her shoulders.

For such a long time she had felt burdened by the trouble she herself had caused for her entire family, just because of a social ineptitude she hadn't been aware of.

Now she was able to laugh at herself for how silly that had been.

And also at the Roman gods for being offended by irrelevant things like the question of how different their culture was to that of the Etruscan gods, or the Hellenic cultures.

But Athena had learned her lesson: next time Ares wasn't there and Zeus was too lazy, she would just let him delegate the foreign correspondence to Hermes and observe the god of diplomacy at work. He was more familiar with those foreigners anyway.

As she left her half-brother's office with her own paperwork, she considered: Maybe I'll travel around the world one day too. Clearly it did Ares a world of good, so why shouldn't it to me? Of course, that'll have to wait, until there isn't much to do for me around here-

Her process of thought was interrupted, when Ares dashed past her and right towards their father's office.

She just had time to wonder what had happened, before the commanding voice of Zeus rang through the halls:

“DEITIES OF ALL HELLAS, ATTENTION! FOR URGENT REASONS YOUR PRESENCE IS REQUESTED IN THE OLYMPIAN ASSEMBLY HALL IMMEDIATELY!”

#greek mythology #ares #athena

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all1e23 · 5 years

Text

Mr. Sun, Sun, Mr. Golden Sun [One-shot]

Summary: The past is never where you leave it.

Warnings: Some fluff. A bit of angst. Protective Bucky

A/N: I’ve had a lot of you ask about Dot and if she ever comes back (What would happen, how would they react and this has always been the way I saw it in my head). This takes place roughly 5 months after the epilogue. If you have not read it THERE WLL BE MAJOR SPOILERS. Some angst but also sweet Bucky and lots of fluff between Ori and Beck.

Catch up on the series here!

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam though! Thanks!*

Wednesday is Y/n’s longest day and lately, she is having trouble making it till closing. Thankfully, she has two very loving worrywarts who decided that Wednesdays would be a family day at the bookstore. Bucky picks up Ori from school and from there they head to the bookstore where they order takeout and the two worriers help take some of the workload off her shoulders. They handled restocking the shelves, inventory if needed and Bucky usually had her in the back office on the couch by seven while he cleaned up and closed down.

It was currently just shy of five so they should be barreling through the door any minute and couldn’t come at a better time. They weren’t busy by any means, just one customer that’s been browsing the shelves for thirty minutes but her feet are killing her and she wants nothing more than to her two favorite people.

“Hi, I’m sorry to bother you,” A soft feminine voice grabs your attention and you look up from your computer. “This was in that large red chair in the back of the store. I wasn’t sure if someone left it behind or…”

The dark-haired woman held up a drawing of constellations and flowers floating all together and a galaxy printed marker case. Y/n knew just who that belongs to and it certainly wasn’t lost -- those markers knew they were home. She grins and takes the piece of cream-colored construction paper from the woman’s hand and the bag of markers, setting them on the shelves under the cash register.

“I’m sorry about that. That’s my daughter’s favorite spot in the shop. She likes to sit there and read when she comes in and as you can see, color.”

The woman laughs and rubs a hand over her stomach. "I guess I better get used to finding markers in my couch cushions. When are you due?" She nods towards Y/n’s very obvious baby bump. Y/n smiles down at her belly, placing both her hands protectively over her bump and she looks back up at the woman with a glowing smile.

"February, 26th but I have a feeling they will be early. What about you?”

"April 10th. It goes by a lot faster than you would think, doesn’t it?”

The bell on the front door rings before Y/n could answer and a blur of curly hair rushes through the shelves and right into the back office where the owner of all those curls deposits her backpack with a huff and the arm full of books she was carrying hit the desk with a resounding thwap.

“Mama, daddy said I can order pizza for dinner. Is that okay?” Ori shouted from behind the glass window separating them.

Y/n smiles at the stranger and sighs fondly. “That would be the owner of the markers. Excuse me just a second.”

She walks over (more like waddles) and stands in the doorway so she can keep a watch on the floor and still see her daughter’s sweet face. “Of course, starlight. Yes, you can call and you don’t have to ask. You know where the menu is. My phone is in the locked drawer upfront. Just make sure you get two cheese pizzas and the extra cheesy garlic knots.”

“Okay!” Ori beams up at her and adds, “and brownies?”

Y/n laughs as Ori skips out of the office and over to the front desk with the key in hand. She climbs up onto the stool that’s in front of the computer and unlocks the drawer that holds Y/n’s phone, purse and keys while she’s working in the store alone. Y/n follows behind her and brushes her curls out of her face so she can place a kiss to her forehead.

“Yeah, brownies are fine and you left this in your chair?" Y/n raises her knee, letting them bump into the drawing and her box of markers.

Ori grimaces but is still smiling because she's rarely in trouble for anything and most certainly would never be in trouble for anything as silly as leaving her drawing laying around the bookstore.

"Sorry. I meant to hang it up next to daddy's calendar so you can look at it all the time.”

"It's alright, starlight. Just try to remember next time. You would be upset if someone took one of your masterpieces by mistake and I don’t want you upset.” She tickles Ori’s side, making her giggle and asks her daughter, “ Speaking of daddy. Where is he at?"

"Outside on the phone with Uncle Stevie about work or maybe baby Oliver. He said Uncle Stevie needs to stop whining because Uncle Sammy doesn’t find that cute anymore now that they are married and have a baby.”

Y/n snorts and the woman that was talking to her a few minutes earlier is standing behind the register unable to control her own giggling. Ori blushes at being caught by a customer and looks up at her mother who nods, letting her know it’s okay and she skips off back to the office to call for pizza, Y/n’s phone in hand.

"She's adorable." The woman says as she sets the books down on the counter and Y/n grins in response. She grabs each book from the small stack she picked out and starts to scan each book, placing them into the new paper bags Ori helped her pick out.

"Yes, she is. She really is the greatest kid and thank you."

Y/n starts to notice a trend with her purchase. Each book is about parenting. She has Birth Without Fear, Becoming the Parent You Want to Be, The Motherly Guide to Becoming a Mama and a few others. Normally, Y/n would just scan books and not say a word. It isn’t her business what her customers are buying and she never wants to make anyone feel uncomfortable. Maybe it is the pregnancy but her heart hurts for her. This woman is obviously scared about motherhood and her ability to be a good mother.

“It’s seventy-three even. You can insert your card there.” She chews her bottom lip and holds out the bag. “I know it’s not my place and believe me I know how scary this all is but once you see their face it will ease all those worries. You won’t have loved anything as much as that little baby. You’ll find your way. Don’t worry.”

The woman takes the bag and gives her a weak smile as she takes her receipt. There is something in her eyes that Y/n can’t quite place but she simply says thank you and heads for the door. Ori skips back out back of the office and hands Y/n her phone.

“Done mama!”

Y/n tears her eyes from the empty sales floor and looks at her daughter. She wraps her arm around her and kisses her cheek. “Thank you, starlight. You know your daddy and I love you very much, right?”

Ori responds with a beaming smile and nods. “Yep, you love me best and most in the whole world. Bigger than the whole universe?”

“Yeah, bigger than the universe and brighter than the sun, starlight.”

--------

Bucky groans, loudly. “Steve. I can’t keep having this conversation with you. Bring Oliver over tomorrow and you can take Sam out. I think it will be okay. I have a kid you remember? I even took care of her when she was a baby. Plus, Beck will be there.”

The front door bell chimes and that’s Bucky's last straw. He’s wasted enough time talking to Steve about date night with Sam. Bucky needs to kiss his girl, say hi to his babies before he loses his friggin’ mind!

“I’m hanging up, punk. I haven’t seen my girl yet and you’re keeping me from pizza and talking to my babies. Oh, good, God. Shut it. You just whined about missing your husband for twenty minutes and you’re going to rag on me? I don’t think so, pal. Bring Oliver by tomorrow night around seven. Later, Stevie.”

Bucky’s cheeks are still bright red when he turns around to see Dot standing behind him, swollen belly and a bag full of books from his fiance’s bookstore. He peeks through the window at his girls laughing at the front counter and he knows that Dot met his baby, his Orion and he wasn’t there when it happened. Even if Dot didn’t know she did, she still did and bucky felt his chest twist and stomach clench.

He wasn’t there.

“James…” She closes her eyes and mutters, “Uncle Stevie and Uncle Sammy.”

Bucky doesn’t answer her. He doesn’t even look at her, he walks right past her and heads towards the store. He isn’t going to do this in the street and not with his daughter so close. She isn’t going to learn who Dot is this way.

“Wait--” Dot steps towards the shop door and Bucky steps in front of her, blocking her path. “Is that... My--”

“No.” Bucky is quick to shut that down, gesturing between him and Y/n through a large picture window at the front of the store. He makes sure things are very clear when it comes to Ori and tells her, “She’s our daughter, not yours. You walked out on her before she was three days old, she was never your daughter.”

They stand there, staring at each other. No says a word and no one dares to move. Bucky would love to go inside and shield his girls from whatever this woman is trying to bring into their lives but he stays put, firm and standing his ground. The awkward silence fills the busy sidewalk out front of the shop and after several minutes of agony finally Bucky can’t take it any longer. He has to know what she wants from him and what she wants from his baby girl.

“What is it?”

“What…” Her brows pinch together and she shakes her head. “What is what?”

“What do you want, Dot?” Bucky clarified. He wasn’t yelling, he would never yell at a woman but his tone was as far as friendly as you could get. “If you think you can come back here after nearly seven years and take my daughter from me--”

“I didn’t come here to try to take her Bucky! Jesus,” She blows out a breath and glances back at the girls through the display window. “I didn’t know this is your… wife’s store. I didn’t even know you had gotten married. I was out for a walk after meeting my parents for lunch and I saw the display in the window so I came in. I wasn’t looking for you or for her--”

Bucky digs his teeth into his bottom to keep down the harsh words that were threatening to crawl up his throat. Of course, she wasn’t looking for Ori. She’s never wanted anything to do with Ori and that was probably for the best. He didn’t bother correcting her about Y/n. They were going to be married soon enough and he didn’t want Dot having any more information about his family in case she suddenly got it in her head that she wants to know Ori. He looks down at her swollen stomach and something in his stomach burns. She didn’t want Ori but she’s out buying baby books for this baby? What makes this baby more deserving than his little girl? He hopes Ori doesn’t know any of that or put any of this together on her own. He would have no idea how to repair her heart from that kind of hurt.

His Beck would know. She would know how to fix it and would make everything okay because she loves Ori more than she loves him and that’s one of the reasons he fell in love with her.

“Good. That’s good. Because she has a mom, you know? One that loves her unconditionally and for the record, you’re the one that’s missing out. Not me and definitely not Ori. You’re missing out on an amazing kid and that’s all on you.”

He wanted his words to hurt her more. He wanted her to be upset and regretful for missing out on Ori’s life but she wasn’t. She was hurt by this confrontation and maybe having to hear all of this from him directly but she wasn’t upset about losing Ori.

“James, I was young and stupid. I’m sorry I left that way but… I never felt that connection you felt. You held her and I could see it in your face, you loved her with all of you. I wanted to feel that so badly and I thought after I held her and things would be different but… they weren’t. It’s not like either of us wanted a baby when I got pregnant. You might hate me for leaving and maybe she does too but it was the right decision. She should have a mother who loves her.”

Bucky looks back into the shop and his girls had moved to Ori’s chair (probably Ori’s doing to keep Beck off her feet). Ori is snuggled into Y/n’s side with her head resting on Y/n’s stomach reading The Magic School Bus (with Y/n’s help here and there) to the twins while Y/n plays with her hair. He had no idea how Dot could look at that little girl and not have her heart bursting. He didn’t want to admit it to himself or to Dot but she is right. Ori deserves to have a mother who loves her and he’s so grateful she has one of the best.

“Maybe you’re right or maybe you would have been a good mom. We won’t know because you bolted before we could find out.”

Bucky turns around to head inside but stops abruptly. He spins back around and he looks down at her baby bump one last time. He shakes his he and meets her eyes. “Don’t come back here. Stay away from my daughter and my family. Hopefully this family is one worth sticking around for.”

--------

The doorbell chimes through the quiet of the fairly empty store making Y/n sigh. She is so tired and all she wants is her fiance. Y/n looks up to greet whoever came in looking for their next adventure, but to her surprise, it is her fiance. He is wearing a tired smile but he’s smiling brighter the closer he gets to the front desk. Her brows pull together as she glances at the time on the computer. Bucky has been outside talking to Steve for over forty minutes.

That was highly unusual. Bucky was so good about focusing on her and Ori. Once they were all together his phone was down and he only picked up if it was an emergency or had to do with work.

“Well, hello there handsome.”

“Hi, beautiful.” Bucky rumbles as he leans over the counter to peck her lips. “How was today? Have you been on your feet all day?” He asks, brows raised and disappointment seeping into this voice.

“Bucky, I have to work.” She scolds, chuckling softly as she does. Before he can argue she is already making her way around to get a proper kiss, which Bucky gives without hesitation.

“Please, go sit down. For me? I’ll finish inventory and look at that stack of resumes on the counter you have been avoiding even though you said you were going to hire help months ago. When Leopold and Lobe get here things are only going to get crazier. We need to find help now.”

“Those are not the babies' names and I hate interviewing people.” She grumbles with a pout and leans into Bucky’s arms, sighing heavily after he wraps his arms around her letting some of that extra baby weight fall onto Bucky and she quickly realizes how tired she really is.

“I missed you both a lot today and I’m so tired. Just exhausted really and I’m so ready to go home.” She whispers into Bucky’s neck and his arms tighten around her, swaying her back and forth to try and soothe her as best he can in the middle of the store. He wants to tell her to close up early and bring the resumes home so he can call a few to set up interviews but he can’t muster up the words -- he’s frozen.

All because of his past decided to walk back into his life today. The walk he took after Dot left did nothing to help clear his mind or ease the worry that she is going to come back and try to take his baby girl away. He wants to ask what happened when Dot was there with them. He needs to know what she said to Ori and his soon-to-be wife but he doesn’t want to say the words. Y/n is already tired and hurting from being on her feet all day, he won’t overwhelm her with a woman that doesn’t matter.

“Bucky?”

His arms tighten around her as if she is in some sort of trouble and presses a kiss to her forehead. “Yeah? What’s the matter, baby?”

She pulls back and arches her brow. As if she doesn’t know when something is wrong with him and the look on her face says just that. That look finally gets a smile out of the man. “I’m not sure what is wrong but I know something isn’t right. So, how about you tell me what’s wrong, hm?”

Bucky sighs and makes sure Ori is out of earshot in Y/n’s office, she is. She is doing her homework with that bright smile he adores so much. She is humming Mr. Sun, Sun, Mr. Golden Sun and letting her feet sway back and forth. Het adores seeing her like that. Happy and content and Beck is to thank for most of that happiness the last two years.

“I’ll tell you about it tonight, but everything is going to be fine. Just a long, long day. Whaddya say after pizza and homework we close up early and go home? I’ll start calling some of those resumes for you and I’m going to have Nat come help you at the store until we hire someone.”

Y/n eyes him for a second longer and then nods her agreement. She’s too tired to fight him tonight and she isn’t going to pass up Bucky handling the interviews. She presses a quick kiss to his lips and whispers against them, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Of course, I’m okay. I’ve got my girls and babies on the way. Everything is just the way it’s supposed to be.”

#bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #fireman!Bucky #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x yn #Firefighter AU #no longer single dad AU #alternate universe

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queensdivas · 4 years

Text

Turntables (Roger x O/C)

The first one of the gif board fics! This one was given to me by @freddie-moments and was super excited to make this the first one on my list of things to write. For those waiting for theirs don’t worry it’s coming! I have to get a good understanding of them, (And I have like four other fics, and school) But I got this okay!

Also sorry that it’s short. I promise the other ones are going to be much longer!

FOR YOU GUYS!

HUZZAH!!!

Warning: There is a lot of vulgar language in this short fic. You’ll see why because I get the feeling y’all will enjoy it in the context.

Alright here we go!

Masterlist

Kensington

Janurary 2nd 1974

Let’s see the archies go right here and..and..The Amboy Dukes go right here! Finally got a good supply of The Amboy Dukes and I know they’re going to sell out quickly. Walking around the stand to then open up the curtains for the front window.

Moving my way back over behind the counter to make sure the registrar was ready for the day. After the registar I began going through the records of the day stack to see Aurora Borealis by Jigsaw next in line. Not my favorite album in the world but it’s decent for an opening time slot. Sliding the record out of the sleeve to then place it on the turntable for the needle to gently place it down.

The delivery truck should be here any second since we’ve got a new shipment of magazines coming in today. There’s an issue that people have been asking about that feature The Who and apparently more secrets will be unlocked about them. It’s mostly the same information just told in different forms.

Last step is to unlock the front door! Grabbing my keys that I left on the counter. Walking to the door to unlock it. After unlocking it I flipped the open side then plugged in the christmas lights that were hung around the window of the shop. With it being only noon I won’t really see anybody till four.

One hour…

Had some grumpy old man come in to yell at me for not having Doris Day in stock when in fact we did..just not what he wanted exactly. You’d be surprised how often that happens here and each time it’s just nitpicking for solo vinyls from people that aren’t even printed at the moment. If this is how today is going then I’m ruined for the day!

Two hours later...

It took almost two hours for a group of tourists to come in and mess up half of my cleaning from this morning! Stupid Americans. They thought it would be fun to rummage through The Beatles trying to find anything exclusive since it’s England. (It’s not the first time it’s happened but it gets extremely annoying after a while.)

The record ended for it was time to change the record. Hmm let’s see what else we got here today. Peggy Lee is perfect! Pulling the vinyl from the sleeve to gently place it on the turntable. The snapping began as I began swinging my hips back and forth a little.

Never know how much I love you

Never know how much I care

When you put your arms around me

I get a fever that's so hard to bear

You give me fever,

When you kiss me

Fever when you hold me tight

Fever

In the mornin', a fever all through the night

Sliding from behind the counter to slowly dance throughout the store as I began checking the stock of everything on the floor. Sashaying over to the blues section of the shelf to start going through them.

Sun lights up the day time

Moon lights up the night

I light up when you call my name

And you know I'm gonna treat you right

You give me fever,

When you kiss me

Fever when you hold me tight

Fever

In the mornin'

A fever all through the night

Everybody's got the fever

That is somethin' you all know

Fever isn't such a new thing

Fever started a long ago

Ah the key change. One of my favorite moments in this song. My hips swayed back and forth as I slowly worked my way through the aisle till the door opened. Immediately stopping as the small group came into the shop. Turning around from the shelf to see that they were circling around the shelves nicely.

“Welcome to Itty Bitty Records.” Greeting with a smile as I began going down Ike Turner's collection as they began looking around.

“Um excuse me?” The man stood next to me as he had really curly hair and stood tall like a giant before me goodness.

“What can I help you with?” Smiling as I turned to face him.

“Do you have any Mungo Jerry?” He asked as I had to think for a second.

“We do actually.” Motioning him to follow as we made it to the “M'' section for me to try to find them. Ma..Me...Mo...Mungo Jerry!

“Right there. Now I am expecting a shipment to be delivered in the next week if you’re looking for something specific of his?” He looked at the few records that were there and smiled at me.

“This is good. Thank you.” He smiled as I walked back over to the Blues section to finish where I left out. Definitely need a lot more Aretha Franklin in this shop or I might go mad.

“Excuse me?” Looking up to see another customer who wore a huge fur coat with his hair about shoulder length. It was pretty blonde but sort of odd to see a man in such a big fur coat to come into my store. Normally if they’re looking into records they head into more of the London London area.

“Do you have The Surfaris?” Not a lot of people listen to them. Mostly because they were really popular in California and I think that’s literally it for popularity. I find them interesting with a fun old sound that people still enjoy.

“We do. Didn’t think anyone listened to them on our side of the woods.” Commenting as we walked over the “S” section.

“Sort of a sucker for the classics.” He commented as we rounded the corner into the “S” Shelf.

“Most people our age would call you an old chap. Right here.” Pointing at them with my pencil.

“Fantastic you have Hit City. Is it 65’?”

“Yes. We have a first edition in the back if you’re interested.” He formed a huge smile on his face as that was my cue to go and get it.

“Give me a few minutes.” Smiling as he went back to looking at the records. I walked back into the back to begin looking for the box I usually keep them in.

IT should be around here somewhere. Making it into the back as I was skimming up and down on the shelf looking for one of the original boxes. Is it more back than I thought it would be and I can’t exactly leave the front alone this long.

C’mon...you sneaky little devil where are you hiding?

FOUND IT!

Reaching up to grab the box labeled 10 y/o originals. Should definitely be in here since it only arrived the past two three years. And again no one is going after The Surfaris. If it was anything major mainstream then I would be worried for him.

Walking back out onto the floor to see him waiting patiently at the counter for the record. I went around the counter to open the box and start going through all the records that are in there. It’s a little more dusty than I enjoy it but it’s a good reminder when my workers come in to take over that I can stay later and go through everything.

“Let’s see..we’ve got an original Yardbirds, Velvet Underground, Juicy Lucy who I will make sure plays next. Ummm..” I kept going through them till I saw the yellow truck and red lettering of the album.

“So why The Surfaris? Some small band from California?” Asking him as I handed him the record.

“Nothing was more fascinating than surfing rock. It sort of helps with the gray winters of home.” This is true. England does get rather gloomy and very bright music can always make those gray clouds fly away.

“To think the Americans went from surfing music to heavy rock in a matter of ten years.” We laughed as I noticed that his eyes were...were these beautiful blue pools. Almost like beautiful sapphires.

“If you’re interested I’ve got plenty of more originals in the back. More than just American surfing music.” Smiling at him as I offered him to look into the box.

“I would definitely be interested. Can I put my coat somewhere?” He asked as I pointed over to the coat rack.

“Roger by the way.” He smiled as he took off his coat with a long striped scarf.

“Anya.” Smiling as his group of friends he came in with approached him by the coat rack.

“I’ll be a little bit. Meet you there at the studio around six.” His group left as I began pulling out the rest of the records from the box.

“You seem like a trustworthy chap. Do you mind if I leave you in charge of the front. Just don’t let anyone steal anything please while I get a few more boxes.” Asking him as I am hoping he doesn’t rob me either.

“Of course.” Nodding as I walked from behind the counter to then hurry into the back.

Grabbing the small step ladder for me to start grabbing boxes from the shelf and placing them on the ground. I really need to take a few days and go through all this junk, maybe save me some money on orders if I have almost originals in here. I wouldn’t even sell them for that much more than the ones I already have, just a few more extra pounds maybe.

Lightly kicked the door open to carry two cases of records to then towards the counter. He was already looking through the ones I laid out for him to look at. I’m taking a wild guess that he’s some musician and a very dedicated one to that fact. Or he’s a conicor kind of person who wants to get his hands on this stuff before it comes obsolete.

“These should be good for now. Thank you Anya.” He smiled as I opened the lid of the boxes. He was smiling the entire time as I began going through them to see the amount of records that I had so far in the back. His smile is really cute and it brings a nice warmth into the store.

“The Chocolate Watchband? Holy hell it’s been a few since I listened to them.” I completely forgot about them. I love psychedelic rock but there were so many these past five years that it’s hard to remember each and every one of them.

“There’s something that I’ve noticed with a lot of these types of bands Roger. Their band name has some sort of food in it, guess when the acid is gone you get the serious taste of the munchies.” He chuckled a little to then go through half of the bands.

“The Chocolate Watchband, The Lemon Pipers, The Flying Burrito Brothers, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, Chicken Shack, and Apple Pie Motherhood?” I don’t think I’ve listened to them before actually.

“Let’s hear it.” He handed me the record as I took off Peggy Lee who to then replace it with their 1968 record. That’s also called Apple Pie Motherhood. The first song that was played was Born Under a Bad Sign. It definitely reminds me of watching Woodstock on the television.

“Let us not forget Vanilla Fudge.” Roger showed me as he did a little jazz hand underneath the record. I just noticed..he has beautiful hands. Not a lot of men have just hands..but they look so rough around the edges. They look stunning.

“Good god this was my first record I think I bought for the store. I’m not surprised that it’s still here. They were a little too hard and felt like they we’re trying too hard. After working in this store for two three years now I can definitely tell when a band is trying too hard or not.

“Do you think this decade will be any better than the previous one?” I asked Roger for him to perk up at my question.

“Well think about it. The movement in California changed music. Little Richard and Elvis Presley brought blues back into light, Lucille Bogan showed that you can write literally whatever you want.”

“Lucille Bogan?” Oh my god Lucille Bogan!

“Lucille Bogan! The raunchy blues singer?” He drew a blank as I practically ran around the counter and towards the Blues section. Bogan bogan bogan AH HA! Snatching it from the shelf to then back to the turntable. Practically tossing off the record from the turntable to replace it with Lucille Bogan.

“Now just listen to the lyrics, let the lyrics flow through you Roger.” Placing the needle down to then watch the show before me. I know Roger is going to be shocked when he hears this song.

I got a man I love

I got a man I like

Everytime I fuck them means

I give ‘em the doggone clap! Oh baby!

His eyes widened for him to take a look at the album cover.

Give ‘em the doggone clap

But that’s the kind of pussy that they really like!

“Jesus Christ Anya!” He laughed. But we couldn’t stop listening to it because it’s just so fantastic!

I told him I gotta have a good cock!

And it’s got four damn good names!

Rough top

Rough cock

Tough cock

Cock with a bone!

“Dear God Anya! How much?” Looking at the front of the album then back at him.

“Fifteen pounds?” Roger immediately pulled out his wallet to hand me the money. Opening the register to give him back his change, with the music still playing around in the background. Till I took the needle off the record to pack it up for him.

“Listen. What time are you out of here?” Roger asked which made me gulp a little.

“Four. Why?” I could feel the rush of blood going through my body at an alarming rate.

“Come by Trident Studios around six if you would like to.” He offered as he placed a small card on the counter.

“Okay. I will definitely be there.” Smiling as he walked over to the coat rack to put on his fur coat then scarf.

“See you later Anya.”

“Bye Roger!” Smiling and waving to him as he left the store.

What just happened?

#roger taylor #Roger Meddows Taylor #Roger and Freddie #roger taylor one shot #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor fluff #Roger Taylor x o/c #Queen #Queen band #Brian May #freddie mercury #John Deacon #fan fiction #Roger Taylor Fan Ficiton #70s Roger Taylor #record #record stores

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songfell-ut · 5 years

Text

Chapter 2, bc this is happening

Yo. I’m charging ahead on this project because I’m a terrible mother and my kid is getting a lot of (educational) screen time during the day while my husband works from home and I get this written. It remains based on this comic by @lostmypotatoes. It’s so long that I split off the end and it’s mutating into Chapter 3. Lots of talking, with Stuff to come of it very soon, no worries.

Now featuring a cut! Thanks (what’s an easy nickname for you? “Lost”? “‘Tatoes?”) for the tip on how to very easily do that.

Lastly, I have login shenanigans to deal with, and have been chatting with Lost (?) using @ikustioa on my phone, so I suppose that’s my blogging/personal handle now. Anyway, here we go:

Three nights later, Sans woke with a jerk. Someone in the next room was sobbing. It wasn't a memory or nightmare, he realized a moment later, and it wasn't the priestess; it was a small child, crying so hard that it could barely breathe. Steeling himself, the boss monster slid out of bed and listened intently.

He heard a woman whisper something, and the child's sobs quieted as a familiar sound came through the door. It was the same humming that had de-powered his blaster the other day, though not the same tune. The skeleton took a moment to be sure that the glow in his eyes was out, then cracked the bedroom door open.

Frisk was kneeling, bare-headed, with her arms around a little boy of perhaps eight or nine years. In the light of one lamp on the worktable, Sans saw a dark patch of blood in the child's hair. Frisk glanced at the skeleton, giving him a wan smile, still humming. Sans closed the door enough that the child wouldn't see him.

The priestess waited till the boy had calmed down to the occasional sniffle, then leaned back and reached for something on the table. "I've got a treat for you," she said cheerfully. "Do you like peppermint?"

The child thought it over, and nodded.

"Wonderful, because that's exactly what this is. You'll feel better in no time." She held out a glass bottle. "You can have three big swallows, but only three, all right?"

Well played, Sans thought, framing it as something he got to have, not something he had to take. Sure enough, the little boy gulped it right down, smacking his lips as the young woman retrieved the bottle. "Good. Can you do something very important for me?" she asked. Nod, nod. "Can you lie down and count to one hundred? That'll make the magic work better. Let's go to my office."

The child went with her quite willingly. After a few minutes, the High Priestess re-emerged into Sans' field of vision. Her pleasant expression was gone, replaced with one that actually made him feel a little sorry for whoever had pissed her off. Then he remembered the blood on the kid's head. "Anybody you want me ta kill?" he asked through the door.

"Don't tempt me." Frisk jerked a sheet of paper from a stack on the desk, grabbed a pen, and began writing rapidly.

Sans checked the time. "God damn, what's that kid doing awake at two in the morning?"

"Being beaten." The pen scratched viciously across the page.

He decided to shut up. Frisk soon finished the message, blew the ink dry and folded the paper in thirds, then sealed it and marched to the outer door, where she woke up the guard on duty. Sans heard her reaming the guy about doing his job properly, serving a writ, and not letting a guy out of the castle. She came back in, only to return to the office.

This seemed to be typical for her, as far as Sans could tell, though it usually wasn't this dramatic or this late at night. If she wasn't off at church or giving him lessons, she was talking to someone who needed help and apparently couldn't get it elsewhere. He had yet to see her do something for fun, or sleep more than five hours at a time.

Meanwhile, his daily routine had been surprisingly low-key. The first day, after being flagrantly mind-controlled into agreeing to stay, he'd eaten some more, then slept for another dreamless twenty-four hours. The next morning, she'd let him have another pile of food, then started his apprenticeship by showing him the most common ingredients for potions and how to identify them by sight, as he couldn't smell and didn't have much sense of touch. Yesterday had been a review, emphasizing that a mistake could literally kill someone, and she'd given him a book of basic recipes, asking him to make a list of any ingredients he found that she hadn't already introduced.

It was kind of annoying to have homework, and he was starting to get cabin fever, but otherwise, the whole experience hadn't been too terrible. He was relieved and disappointed that she kept the veil on almost all the time, which reduced the distraction somewhat, though she persisted in having a fantastic shape, and he was really starting to enjoy the sound of her voice. When he could focus enough to ask questions, she was patient and encouraging, and let him use all the paper he wanted to write down the answers. She was obviously pleased that he cared enough to take notes, though not in a smug or irritating way; it just made her happy, and that made him...not unhappy.

It was also still novel to talk to a human who wasn't afraid of him. He hadn't seen many humans up here besides the little boy, and figured they were forbidden to come into her rooms unless they desperately needed help, or could sneak past a sleeping guard. That was fine with Sans, though he'd overheard one cleaning lady being so persistent that he really wanted to come out of the bedroom and tell her to piss off. Unsurprisingly, Frisk had asked him to not do that.

There were only a few real mysteries so far. One was a pile of letters she'd brought in on the second day and tossed into a basket of also-unopened envelopes standing by the roaring fireplace in her workshop. He'd caught her looking at the basket a couple of times, as if debating whether to burn them all, but she never did it, or opened any in front of him.

The biggest question was how she knew he could teleport, and the nature of his blue magic, even if was getting more red than blue these days. He had unthinkingly used the latter to grab a couple things yesterday, and his magic had almost immediately died out. He didn't know exactly how she was doing it, but her barriers weren't just blocking him in: they kept his power so muted that he couldn't have summoned a single bone. It seemed that he'd be allowed to use some magic to make the actual potions, and that was it.

Well, there was time to worry about that later. The injured kid had made him think of Kris again, which made him think of the book passage Frisk had quoted at him. He'd have to ask if she...wait, no, he didn't have to ask. She'd given him carte blanche to read anything he found in her bedroom or workshop. Sans tapped the nearest witchlight on, noting that it was much weaker than the ones Underground, and started perusing the shelves.

Fifteen minutes later, Frisk knocked on the door, waiting for him to grunt acknowledgement before she came in. "I'm sorry for waking you," she said, dropping into her chair with a deep sigh. "There's going to be hell to pay in the morning."

She did look like hell, with bags under her eyes and a smear of blood on her cheek. Sans put the book down and tapped his own face, and she got the hint, rubbing her cheek with the back of her hand. "Ugh. That poor child." She sighed again, curling up and resting her head on the arm of the chair. "I'll wash up in a minute."

"Didn't you just get back from a thing?" he asked, wondering if she was always this cavalier about bodily fluids.

"Yes. His Holiness decided we needed more midnight services, and I have to be there every other night." She rubbed her eyes. "Flynn must have followed me back here. People aren't supposed to know where I live, but word is spreading. At this rate, I'll have to move again."

Sans drummed his fingertips on the bedpost. She'd found an oversized stool to use in the workshop, but there were no armchairs big enough for him, so he spent most of his leisure time on the bed. "Bein' High Priestess sucks. How long ya been at it?"

"Three years. The last Thea was assassinated, and they had to find a replacement as fast as possible. Out of all the minor priestesses available, I was the only one who passed all the tests. It's been...instructive."

"Hm." That didn't surprise him. A human strong enough to block a boss monster's focused attack had to be pretty rare. "How old are ya, anyway?" he asked, suddenly curious.

Her eyes shut. "Twenty-two. I was educated in a convent, ordained at sixeen, High Priestess at nineteen." A mighty yawn was partly hidden in her arm. "Lucky me."

Sans didn't know much about humans, but he was pretty sure that was young as hell for so much responsibility. The problem was that she was good enough to handle it, which meant they'd pile on more and more until she went nuts. "Nah, it sucks ta be you. Any way you can get out of it?"

"Well," she mumbled, eyes still closed, "I can die, or marry, or go back to the convent and become the Mother Superior, which would also be until I die." Frisk yawned again. "The Feast of All Saints is next week. That's when the last High Priestess was murdered."

Something prickled up Sans' spine. "You spend all yer time doin' church stuff, kissing babies and healin' puppies or whatever. Why the hell would anyone wanna kill you?"

"I meant it when I said I have influence in the Church and at court. I don't hate monsters, which is inconvenient for several people, and I'm not quiet about it, which is extremely inconvenient for many more of them. Besides, my natural father is very wealthy, and his other childr—"

"'Natural' father?" he queried. "What, do some humans have unnatural kids?"

Her eyes opened. She looked lovely in the soft light, but troubled and sad, so much that he wished he hadn't asked. "I'm illegitimate. My father never married my mother, and our life was...bad. Very hard, for a very long time." The priestess rubbed her fingertips together, as if seeing more dried blood. "He was a very busy man, but he only has one legitimate heir. After his second wife died, he started tracking down his children born out of wedlock, and it's an open secret that he'll leave each of us a large amount after he passes."

"And whoever's left gets a bigger piece of the pie?" Sans guessed.

"Exactly. As far as I know, there were fourteen or fifteen of us, but magic runs in his side of the family, and most of his children became sorcerers. Almost all of my half-brothers have been killed fighting monsters. Two of my half-sisters blew up in an experiment that went wrong. There are only six of us left, including the—his heir."

Sans' eyes narrowed. "What is it with humans an' explodin' stuff by accident?"

He couldn't read the look on her face. "If we knew the answer to that, history would have taken a much better course."

Of course, that made him think of Kris again. It seemed pretty inevitable, so he might as well ask... "I don't s'pose," he mumbled, "there's a record of the humans who went t'the Underground on that last trip? Maybe what happened to 'em after they got back?"

Frisk raised her head a little. "That depends. We know exactly which nobles, sorcerers, and other dignitaries attended. Do you mean one of them?"

"Nah, this was a servant, I think. Prob'ly. I dunno." The skeleton felt his eyes lighting up again. "He was only 4 or 5. S'comin' up on thirteen years ago, so he'd'a grown up by now."

The priestess frowned. "No one that young was in attendance, so far as I know, and I've read every account that I could find. May I ask why you want to know?"

"Nah." Sans flexed his hand around the bedpost. "Forget it."

Frisk sighed, carving a design into the plush chair with her thumbnail. "Well, I'm afraid the answer is no. There's no record of the servants who came along, except the ones who were killed, and that didn't include any children. You'd have to check with each of the—" She sat up. "Wait. I know someone who was there—my mother. Do you want me to ask her?"

"Hell yes, I do!" Sans' hand tightened, splintering the bedpost. He guiltily released it. "Did she talk much about it? What all did she tell ya? Can I ask 'er a coupla things?"

The priestess laughed, quieting him with a wave of her hand. "Sans, please! She's been very sick recently, and I don't want to excite her too much. I will ask her anything you need to know, thank you. And yes, she talked about it to anyone who'd listen. She's the one who told me all about monsters, and what you're actually like."

Sans sat forward, but she forestalled more questions with another gesture. "First, her name is Rosa. Did you ever meet her?"

It did sound familiar. "I think so. Little, blonde, wore her hair up?"

"That's her. She would've been in charge of any children they brought along, but she never mentioned any of them to me." Frisk tapped her finger on the chair arm. "She did say there were things she wasn't allowed to talk about. She worked for the Duke as a nurse, and she would never disobey him."

He wondered for a moment if that meant the guy was Frisk's father, but was too excited to dwell on it. "What'd she say about us?" he asked curiously.

Frisk hesitated. "Well...she didn't talk very much with individual monsters, but she said the Queen was very kind and made sure to tell each of the humans how glad she was to have them visit. The King was also very courteous. He tried his best not to frighten anyone, and he thought it was rude that the servants weren't allowed to eat with the nobles."

Sans' foot started tapping. She raised an eyebrow at him, and he reluctantly stopped. "Who else?" he demanded.

The next moment, they both heard the office door open into the workshop. "Miss?" came a plaintive voice.

Frisk was at the bedroom door in an instant. "What is it, Flynn?" She closed the door most of the way.

Damn it all to hell. Sans grumpily listened to the child explain that he'd scratched his head and sorry, there was blood on the couch now. Frisk explained that wounds got itchy as they healed, and to please not scratch it, and that it would be much better to wipe his hands on the towel she'd put down than on the furniture. Then he had to be cleaned up again and a bigger bandage applied, and someone was sent for to take the boy somewhere he could sleep safely.

A thought stabbed at him as he listened to the proceedings: that was how she knew he could teleport and zip things around without touching them. King Asgore had insisted the monsters show off their powers in various amusing ways so that the humans would be less afraid of their magic. Sans thought it was a bad idea at the time, and look what came of it!

Frisk eventually came back to the bedroom, drying her hands on her skirt. "Let's cut t'the chase," Sans said quietly as she sat down. "Did she tell ya about any skeletons?"

"Yes." Frisk folded her hands and looked straight at him. "Two brothers, Sans and Papyrus."

Sans laced his fingers together to avoid accidentally destroying anything else. "And...?"

"She liked them very much," Frisk said calmly, "especially Papyrus. Sans was friendly, but she said he watched their every move, and it made them nervous." The priestess smoothed her skirt over her knees. "Papyrus was a joy to be around. He was very full of himself, but there wasn't a mean bone in his body, and he considered it his duty to welcome the humans as much as possible. My mother talked about him more than any other monster." She coughed. "Apparently, his spaghetti was terrible."

"...Sounds about right."

Frisk looked at him sharply. "I wanted to ask you about that, but...are you all right?"

Sans couldn't answer. He'd avoided thinking too much about home, especially the fact that he'd already been gone for a week when he got caught. It'd been easy to tell himself that he could always bust out of here if he needed to, or that the lady would let him send a message or even go have a quick visit before coming back here, but...

"Are you Papyrus' brother?" Frisk asked.

"Yeah," he ground out.

The priestess shook her head. "I don't understand. R—Mother said that Sans was shorter than any of the humans who came to the Underground, and the only boss monsters mentioned in the official histories are Asgore and Toriel. Can you tell me what happened? I wasn't sure if you were the same skeleton, you seem so diff—"

"A lot of shit happened, that's what." Sans lurched to his feet, and she had to tip her head back to look up at him. His sockets were glowing again. "Ya know what? I'm tired, an' you look like crap. Time for night-night." He jerked the door open, rattling the hinges. "Good luck cleanin' up. Blood's a bitch to get out. Trust me, I know."

She rose quietly, folding her hands in the style he recognized from the very first time he'd seen her. "All right, then. Good night, Sans," she said, and walked past him, out of the room.

He didn't slam the doors shut behind her, but it was pretty close.

Once she had control of herself again, Frisk wiped her eyes and resumed scrubbing the couch. She kept glancing underneath it, and as she threw yet another towel into the laundry basket, she decided, To hell with it, and pulled the couch aside. A nearly invisible seam in the floor showed where a board could be pried up to access her hidden safe. There was no lid, no lock, and no key, just a solid golden film that vanished when she pressed her thumb into its center.

The High Priestess surveyed the contents: several tight-folded papers, a bag of high-value dinar, a sack of silver ingots, a few pieces of jewelry, and a small box. She selected the box and removed its rosewood lid to reveal a tiny glass orb, something swirling around on its surface like smoke. She stared at it for so long that her knees began aching, but she didn't notice. Her vision blurred again, and she jammed the lid back on the little box, shoving everything back into the safe, re-sealing it, thumping the floorboard into place and pushing the couch back. Not today, she told herself fiercely. She didn't care what Sans said or how he acted. It couldn't be worth it. Nothing could!

The next day, after a late breakfast, Frisk quizzed him on the differences between various herbs and powdered animal bits and their uses; they looked over the list he'd made of new ingredients, going through the recipes and identifying how each item worked in each potion. That was the first time she demonstrated how to mix and infuse something, and the first time she warned him, "You have to be careful how you feel when you make potions. Intent is always important when you're using magic—you fully intend to cause damage, and I fully intend to protect, which is why we're good at what we do, yes?"

He shrugged philosophically, and she half-smiled. "Well," she continued, "it's similar when you're making something for someone else to take. If you're in a foul mood and you want to cause harm, or you simply don't want the person to get better, you might as well be concocting poison, or giving them water. Of course, your feelings don't matter if you're just throwing herbs into a pot, but these work as well as they do because you're putting a tiny bit of yourself into it. You have to make sure that it's a good bit."

"Pretty sure all my bits are bad by now," Sans remarked. "How's about I make some poison instead?"

Frisk shook her head, leaning over the table. "No one is all bad, Sans. Here." She took the glass stirrer out of the miniature cauldron bubbling away in the middle of their workspace. "I'll infuse it now. Watch."

He did observe closely as she bent forward, though probably not the way she'd intended; he just made sure he was looking at the potion when she glanced up at him. "Try thinking of someone you care for, and imagine it's for them." She opened her hand over the cauldron and, to his surprise, let out a low whistle, piercingly sweet.

A mote of light drifted from her palm and settled into the mixture. It seemed to sparkle for a moment, then resumed being a potion. When he concentrated, though, he could feel a little tingle of magic in it. "I won't ask you to try it till you have better control of your emotions," she said. "Right now, you're so angry that I don't know what would happen."

A different note had crept into her voice. Sans shifted his bony weight on the stool. "S'not like I can help it."

"Perhaps," she said. "You probably don't even notice it anymore. It's become a part of you, through whatever stuff has happened since the humans left the Underground. And before you ask, my mother is ill again. We can't speak with her until she's better."

There it was; he'd wondered if she was going to pretend he'd never snapped at her. "Well, you can only ask me so many personal questions before I get touchy, lady. Frisk." He tapped the worktable a couple of times. "Look, I know ya have a lot on yer plate, an' havin' to deal with me isn't much help. I just want t'know...is there any way to tell the others I'm not dead or somethin'? My brother's gotta be out of his mind by now, and I don' want someone comin' after me and gettin' caught."

Frisk shook her head, and his SOUL sank to the floor. "I'm sorry, Sans, but that's out of the question," she said, soft but firm. "Our King has forbidden any humans from coming within a day's walk of the entrance to the Underground, and let's be very honest—what would happen if a human came up to you out of nowhere and said they had an important message to give the monsters?"

Sans' jaw clenched so hard that the priestess put her hand out, not quite touching his arm. "Sans, please. If there was any way to—"

"Forget it, okay? Just...never mind." The skeleton glared at the windows facing out from the workroom. Like everything else in this damn place, they were too small for him to fit more than his head through. He'd gone through this in his own mind a dozen times: even if he could break through the wood and stone, he could sense the barrier set behind the wall to block his shortcuts. The one along the outside wall was heavier than the ones in the bedroom, which were permeable, purely there to track his movements. It was debatable whether this one could be physically broken with...something, but the moment he tried, she would know he was trying and stop him with a stronger barrier.

Hmm. What if...what if he waited till she wasn't here and couldn't get back in time to stop him? If he broke through when she was distracted, and far enough away – say, doing her church stuff in the middle of the night – then there wouldn't be much she could do. He could escape and decide later whether he wanted to come back or—

Wait. Come back? What the hell was he thinking? Why would he choose to be locked up by any human? No matter how pretty, and gutsy, and sweet and nice-voiced and...

Crap.

Anyway. He wouldn't come back. He'd have to be sure to grab his notes and a few books for Alphys; Frisk could always get more copies. He already had plenty to report to King Asgore, though he felt a little uneasy about letting ol' Gorey know that the most powerful barrier-making human was a determined sorceress whose SOUL could probably make you invincible. Actually, he felt a lot uneasy. Maybe he'd keep that to himself for now.

Too bad he couldn't bring her with him...

"...ans. Sans?" Frisk was touching his radius. She'd lifted her veil, large brown eyes turned up to his. "Are you all right?"

Sans studied her for a long moment, reflecting that Papyrus had always wanted a pet. The idea was more appealing than he'd have liked to admit; he had to dismiss it with a shake of his head, and shake it again to get it loose. "'m fine, kid. Remind me what this stuff was for?" After all, he thought darkly, he'd always told Pap no. Pets were too much trouble, especially if you got attached to them. Besides, what would they feed her?

A knock on the outer door startled them both. Before Frisk could respond, the door opened, and in strode a tall, thin man in dark robes, holding a box under his arm. "High Priestess. Honored guest," the man said in a cool, whispery voice, giving them a short bow.

"Dr. Serif? This is a surprise," the High Priestess responded, replacing the veil as she stood up. "I wasn't expecting you so early. Sans, this is Dr. Serif, the royal sorcerer. Doctor, please meet Sans the skeleton."

The man regarded Sans with mild curiosity. "I am very pleased to see you again, Sans the skeleton. Has Her Eminence been treating you well?"

"Uh...yeah," said Sans, nonplussed. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

The royal sorcerer bowed again. He was unnervingly pale, the effect enhanced by dark eyes and long black hair framing his face. "I helped transport you from your cell to this room."

"It took magic," Frisk said helpfully.

He'd figured as much; magic was the only way humans could do any damn thing. The boss monster looked at the box under the doctor's arm, which had a strange feel to it. He couldn't tell what it was, but he knew he didn't like it.

"This is for you, as we discussed, Your Eminence," the man said smoothly. "I will leave it in your office."

Frisk looked so uncomfortable that Sans glanced at the sorcerer, but nothing was visibly wrong. The man ignored them both, striding past the table and opening the door to her office. They heard rustling, and the doors closing as he stepped back into the workroom. "That will be all. Good day, my lady, Sans." With another bow, the doctor turned and left.

"Weirdo," said the ten-foot skeleton. He found he didn't want to look away from the door lest the guy come back and catch him unawares. He hadn't been threatening, but something about him was very off.

"He's...unique." Frisk sat down again. "Now, this infusion is almost ready. We'll leave it at room temperature for another ten minutes or so before we stir it again. In the meantime, you can add two drops of peppermint oil, mint, orange or lemon extract..."

The rest of the day passed without major incident. Frisk had to stop in the middle of concocting a burn salve and leave Sans to finish it, though she cautioned him not to infuse it yet. She rather envied him; she had to walk to the other side of the castle to go over her parish's monthly accounts, balancing foot-long columns of tiny numbers to check that tithes and alms had come in and gone out properly. They never quite did, though it had gotten better in the past year, as she had made it increasingly clear that she was not interested in stealing from the poor or turning a blind eye to it, even for a few hundred extra dinar in her own column.

The attempts at bribery were particularly insulting because she didn't need it. The realm's High Priestess was entitled to half a percent of the Church's total monthly income, and through the magic of frugality and compound interest, her personal fortune had grown to the point where she didn't want to use any of it. Life was so strange; as a small child, she had only eaten once every couple of days, and now she could decide not to buy her own estate and maintain a huge staff for it.

She was starting to wonder, though, about a rumor she'd heard regarding several hundred acres of land that would supposedly be up for sale in the next few months. They were principally wheat and barley fields, no more than two days' walk from the Underground's main entrance. That was food for thought, indeed.

Frisk eventually finished and stopped by the kitchens on her way back to her room. Sans was still wary of what he ate, and she took care to have more than one damned fork now when she tasted his food for him. She wasn't worried for herself: if she didn't have time to eat in the kitchen, she routinely paid several of the staff a bit extra to make sure that everything they brought her had come straight from the pot or the pan, with no chance for someone to add any surprises.

That had felt hypocritical at first, but she'd soon realized that she couldn't rely on people's consciences or sense of duty to keep her safe. Many, like the guard captain, were loyal for loyalty's sake, but many more of them needed external motivation, and she was helping the cooks and servers support their families. And she wasn't literally stealing from orphans to do it!

An overstuffed basket sat outside her chambers, and the guard hastened to open the door and push it inside for her. Frisk carried the tray to the table, setting it by Sans' elbow as he compared nearly identical recipes in two separate books. Then she dragged the laundry basket over, pulling a sail-like garment out end over end. "Here you are," she said around an armful of fabric.

The skeleton looked up, scowling at the interruption. "Wha?"

"This is for you." Frisk tried to hold up an enormous shirt, then an enormous set of trousers. "I had them measure your clothes when we washed them for you. They made you another set."

Sans slowly got up and took the shirt from her, holding it against himself. It was sturdy linen, almost as thick as the canvas shirt he wore now and much softer. The skeleton turned it this way and that, poking the material. "What's this for?"

Pause. "It's a shirt," said Frisk. "It goes on the top half of your body. Humans need it for protection against the elements, and modesty, but for you, it's principally so that you have a shirt on."

He acknowledged her smartassery with a respectful nod. "I mean, wasn't this a pain to make? I hope nobody expects me t'pay fer this. Not my fault if what I got on ain't pretty enough for ya."

"Oh, it was. Getting something that size made up so quickly cost me more than I paid for all the clothes I've had this year combined. But you're not a slave, you're my apprentice. That means you're working for me, and I'm keeping track of your wages. It'll take a while to pay this off—" Frisk stuck her arm through one of the trouser legs, flapping it to shake it out. "—but I think you'll manage it before you leave."

Sans had another odd expression. "Yer payin' me for the stuff I make? I thought apprentices were the ones payin' to learn."

"I consider the knowledge you'll bring back to the Underground to be your apprenticeship fee, and as this arrangement wasn't your idea in the first place, we're bending the rules," she said patiently. "I see you've made three sets of burn salve, two of which look useable, and you're almost done with a cough elixir. Fair market value for those is about ten dinar total, so minus the infusion I'll do for you, you've earned about seven already."

"Hm." He scratched the side of his head. "What am I payin' you for my food?"

Frisk laughed, shaking out the other leg. "The pleasure of your company." At his blank stare, she shook her head and uncovered the tray. "No one charges their apprentice for room and board, Sans." The priestess put down the trousers, picked up the fork and leaned in for a bite of baked fish.

The skeleton pulled the tray away, making her stab the table instead. "If I owe ya money, you're definitely not gonna poison me," he pointed out, and began shoveling it in.

"You're right," Frisk said gravely, trying and failing to hide her grin. "I'm glad you've had time to mullet over."

Sans pounded the table with his free fist, rattling the glass vials. "Might as well, just for the halibut. Right?"

She covered her mouth with the back of her hand. "That was weak. Think of a better one and let minnow," she said around it.

"You're right," he said, and waited for her to take a bite before he added, "We really need to scale back."

They had to stop laughing long enough to eat. By the time dinner was over and Frisk had carried the dishes out, both were relaxed enough to be sleepy. "Dunno why I keep wantin' to go t'bed, all I've done is read 'n catnap," mumbled Sans, trudging into the bedroom and flopping onto the mattress. "'m not even usin' my damn magic."

"You're eating human food, so your body is getting more nutrition and working harder to process it," Frisk pointed out, settling into her chair. "Mother said the humans all had to eat more to stop being hungry Underground." She tried not to burp out loud. "Besides, you're probably still recovering from the energy you spent being captured and then trying to kill me. Thrice."

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that." The skeleton stretched all the phalanges of his toes, flexing them in turn. "Probably won't do it again," he added truthfully.

"Thank you." Frisk also stretched her legs out, Sans noticing how absurdly tiny her feet were as she got up from her chair with the recipe book. She reached down to dog-ear the page they were on. "Well, I—"

He whisked the book out of her hand and flipped it open to smooth the page out. "Use a bookmark, woman! What are ya, some kinda barbarian?"

"It's an old book! They're all creased anyway," she argued, trying to take it back. He held it over his head, roughly a mile out of reach. "All right, then, fine," she said with a smirk. "I'm going to take a bath. Read through and find five more ingredients to discuss when I get back." She shut the door on quiet skeletal griping, smiling to herself.

The next day passed in a similar fashion, at least outwardly. Frisk took careful note of everything Sans made, ignoring his suggestion to dock him the price of the ingredients when he screwed up; luckily, he was catching on fast, even if she wouldn't let him infuse anything yet. She also wouldn't tell him how much his new clothing had cost, saying only that she'd let him know when he broke even. What really got his attention was her adding, "If you make enough money, we'll send a few bushels of wheat back with you. No one can be upset that you were gone for so long if you come bearing gifts, can they?"

Sans was glad he didn't have facial muscles or anything similar to betray his inner turmoil. He'd had a lot of second thoughts last night about bashing his way out of here, due in small part to the new outfit and the possibility of bringing food to the Underground, but mostly because she was working her brain-magic on him again, being attractive and kind and easy to talk to like the terrible, sadistic person she was...not. She was not remotely terrible or sadistic, and that was the problem. He still didn't understand it, or how it was getting worse so much quicker than he'd anticipated. He just wanted to get away before she entangled him any further.

Then he'd started thinking of Snowdin right before he fell asleep, and for the first time since he'd been captured, he had dreamed of home. He dreamed their house was cold and dark, with no one upstairs and a single light on in the kitchen. A female form was silhouetted in the kitchen doorway, hands on hips, facing something slumped over the side of the couch. "C'mon, Pap. He's probably just out on another hunting trip," she argued.

"...IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MAKE ME FEEL BETTER?" The thin, nasal voice hurt Sans' SOUL, and not just because he'd desperately wanted to hear it again. This wasn't his boisterous, indomitable, recklessly cheerful brother; this was a small, heartsick Papyrus, one Sans hadn't seen or heard in a long, long time. The last time it happened, at least Sans had been there for him. Now Sans was gone, too.

"Hunting animals, Papyrus! He's hunting animals. Not humans." The woman thumped the wall for emphasis, knocking little bits of plaster from the ceiling. Dammit, Sans had told her to quit doing that. "That's gotta be it. We don't eat humans, and he knows how bad the food situation is, right? So..."

"I DON'T CARE WHAT HE'S DOING. ...WELL. NOT MUCH." The skeleton heaved a sigh, raising his face from the couch cushion. "...UNDYNE, I...I CAN'T REACH HIM. IF HE'S ALL RIGHT, WHERE IS HE?"

And then something had seeped out of the darkness and gently enclosed Sans' mind, blotting out the dream like a sponge on spilled water. He had woken up knowing that it wasn't a dream, and was instantly enraged—he'd been so grateful that the nightmares had stopped, and too damn stupid to figure out that she'd set a barrier up against external influences, including dreams shared with Pap. He'd ponder the full ramifications of it blocking nightmares another day; the memory of his brother's expression had decided him. Agreement or no agreement, he was getting out of here tonight.

Of course, he couldn't pack up the stuff he needed before their lesson was done, or right afterward. He wasn't worried about giving himself away: as an accomplished bullshitter, he knew he was behaving perfectly normally. The moment dinner was cleared away, he called dibs on the bathroom, which had a nice, huge tub that he wanted to use one more time. When he was done and she'd gone in and locked the door – and after the usual stab of curiosity as to what she looked like outside of clothes – Sans quietly put everything he wanted into a satchel he'd found under the worktable, and stowed it behind the door in the bedroom, where he had to wait until she was done getting dressed.

The one odd thing was that after she emerged from her dressing room in her full priestess-y regalia, she went into her office and spent a few minutes doing nothing that he could hear, after which she was wearing a different brooch. She'd had a white one on the first day they met, but this one shone with a greyish light under her veil.

"Goin' so soon?" he asked carelessly. It was ten o'clock.

She smiled. "If my duties only included saying words and a few songs, I would sleep much easier. There's always someone to speak to before and after services."

"Gotcha. Well, have fun. 'm gonna read somethin' with a damn bookmark 'fore I go to bed—I forgot t'ask, mind if I try ta make a few things while you're not here?"

"Go right ahead. You'll pay for it if you burn down my workroom, so I'm trusting you to behave." Was he imagining a weird little inflection there? No, she looked totally wonderful. ...Normal. She looked totally normal. "Good night, Sans," she said, adjusting her veil.

"G'night, Frisk." He stretched out on the bed as she shut the door.

That was it, then. He might not ever see her again. It...wasn't a good feeling. In fact, it felt pretty bad. Time to quit feeling it, think of Pap, and focus on his plan of action.

The plan: well, for starters, it would be dumb to try breaking out immediately. He wished he knew exactly where the chapel was. He'd heard occasional church-type singing off in the distance, but that didn't give him an idea of how far away she'd be during the service, or for exactly how long. Instead, he watched the clock and fidgeted, as nervous as the first time he'd faced down a group of human sorcerers.

Maybe this was a dumb idea. Maybe he should just ask her to take down the barrier keeping him from dreaming with Papyrus, just for one night. She was too kind to refuse, and intelligent enough...

...to ask him for more information in exchange. Frisk knew he used to be a normal monster, and might think to ask if he'd always been able to speak across dreams; it wouldn't be too far a stretch for her to keep questioning how he became a boss monster. She'd also realize that if she let him communicate with other monsters, he could tell them several things that she would prefer they not know, including her identity and full capabilities. It was one thing for her to take a calculated risk and let him go back to the Underground with that information, or – much more likely – to make him forget it before he left; some humans had the ability to excise bits of memory like that. It'd be another thing entirely to permit a conversation that no one else could even hear. She was nice, not stupid.

So Sans waited until eleven forty-five, and then he sat in the workroom with the satchel looped around his wrist for another ten minutes, nerves humming. Then he got up, went to the double doors leading out of her rooms, and silently picked up a seven-foot decorative statue standing at the room's threshold, wedging it inward across the doorframe. He went back to the workroom, judged the weakest place in the outside wall, reared back, and slammed his fist directly between two of the windows.

Frisk had started to relax as the organist began playing and incense floated in the chapel air. She was opening her mouth for the first hymn when a warning note sounded in the back of her mind: the barrier to her workroom's outside windows was tingling, and then it suddenly burned away, the warning note sliding all the way up to a full-blown klaxon.

She gritted her teeth so hard that it hurt, controlling her expression with a supreme effort as the voice in her head screamed, Sans, you two-faced sack of fertilizer!

The only good thing about the situation was that she wasn't leading this service. Therefore, it was odd, but not completely conspicuous, when she stepped to the back of the choir, touched her new brooch, and vanished.

#frans this fic brought to you by ABC Mouse

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baekhyuq · 5 years

Text

“I love Lucy.” Baekhyun (m) | Lucifer!bbh

Genre: SMUT

Word count: 3.7k

Mini playlist:Lottery-Kali Uchis/Ice Queen-BBH

Summary: Your boss just so happens to be the devil and is also trying to take you out on a dinner date.

The day started with Mr.Byun asking for his morning report. You gave it to him and then some. His eyes trained on your swaying hips as you exited his office. Nothing new, you were well aware of him wanting to take you out.

The office was always a busy place, especially when Baekhyun was rushing around the place hovering over peoples shoulders, or sitting on their desks. The invasion of personal space earning him some dirty words from some of your coworkers.

But when he stopped at your desk, you smiled. His tie was loose around his neck, his jacket blazer missing. He looked handsome—devilish, ironically so. He was the devil and all.

To have the devil want to take you out make your heart flutter. You wouldn’t show it and give in to his charm so quickly, you wanted to play cat and mouse for a laugh.

“Miss Y/n.” Baekhyun addresses you by your first name, you two were close enough for first names but it still bothered you.

“Lucy.” You tease, using the nickname for Lucifer you made up. His smile falters slightly and he gives you a stern look for a second. You laugh it off, covering your lips femininely.

“How’s your morning going?” He begins the conversation, he sets a coffee on your desk you’re assuming is for you. You pick it up and sip it carefully.

“Pretty okay, I need to send these papers to a few more companies and I’ll be finished with your third assignment.”

“You’re always ahead of the game, those assignments weren’t due till next weekend.” Baekhyun smiles, praising you. You bask in his praise, you loved being his favorite, even if you acted otherwise.

“I try.” You offer him a smile. He clears his throat before continuing the conversation. He should be popping the question any minute—

“So Y/n, are you free this Friday?” The question flies smoothly from his lips. As if he’s rehearsed this line a thousand times. You wouldn’t be shocked to find out if he did.

He looks so hopeful that you’ll say yes, he’s basically grabbing on to your desk ready to flip it if you reject him.

Smiling at him you’re ready to play “Hm? What did you say?”

He raised a brow at you. “I asked if you were free for this Friday.” He repeats this time less excited.

“Oh, this Friday? I don’t know, I was thinking of staying in and watching T.V after work.” You act as if you’re pondering about your ‘schedule’ your hand under your chin looking off into the distance.

Baekhyun looks a little sad and he jumps to convince you “Aw come on, I’m sure having dinner with your favorite person would be better than being alone on a Friday night.”

You want to laugh at how cute he’s being, but you keep it together.

“Perhaps...I’ll think about it, Lucy.” You click your pen at him.

Baekhyun nods taking his hands from your desk, “I see. Let me know when you decide.” He smiles. Ah Baekhyun, sweet Baekhyun.

***

Wednesday comes and you’re getting a little grocery shopping done after work. You someone run into Baekhyun.

“Nice seeing you out side of work, Y/n.” He says your first name so casually and it makes your knees wobble slightly.

“You as well, Baekhyun.” You glance at what’s in his basket and he does the same to you.

“What are you making?” You simultaneously ask each other.

“I’m making chilli. What about you” You grin, switching your weight to one foot.

“Really? I haven’t had chilli in ages. I’m actually making a basic vegetable soup. I didn’t have all the ingredients, hence why i’m here now.” Baekhyun rambles. In a way it’s cute, the somewhat awkwardness of meeting him outside of work still present.

“Well, I hope your soup turns out well, Lucy. Have a nice night.” You try to escape the awkward encounter but Baekhyun stops you before you could take another step.

“Y/n I—have you thought about Friday?” His voice was quiet. You grin a little, a nervous Baekhyun was absolutely adorable.

You turn back to face him, your eyes kind. “Yeah I’ve been thinking about it.” You lied, the answer from the start was yes. “I’m free Friday.”

Baekhyun’s eyes light up, he lets out an excited giggle. You find it cute and endearing.

“Does that mean you’ll go to dinner with me?”

“Yes, Baekhyun. It does.” You roll your eyes playfully.

He smiles looking at the tile, “Okay I’ll let you get home. I hope your chilli turns out well.” He backs away while he’s speaking before turning away and walking to check out, a little pep in his step.

You shake your head grinning before turning back to the shelves.

***

Thursday rolls around and you bump into Baekhyun as he’s entering the building.

“Good Morning, Y/n.” He addresses you by first name again, smiling hard.

“Morning, Lucy.” You reply. He steps into the elevator, standing opposite of you. You can smell his cologne and it’s heavenly. His suit is black and his hair is the opposite, contrasting nicely. Baekhyun’s eyes stare at you in the mirror of the elevator. He can’t help but to study your figure.

You shift in your spot, nervous under his gaze. His eyes wander down your back side, always stopping at your ass.

Ding.

Baekhyun gestures for you to step off the elevator first, how gentlemanly. Baekhyun places another coffee on your desk, and you gladly accept it.

“How was your soup last night?” You ask, taking a sip from the coffee cup.

“It tasted pretty okay, i’m not dead yet.” He chuckles, watching your lips as you drink. “What about the chilli?”

“Excellent, actually. I brought some for lunch if you’d like to try it later?” You offer, you intentionally brought two containers of it to share. You knew Baekhyun almost always—without a doubt misses his lunch break in trade for over working himself. You wanted to distract him for a bit.

“That would be nice.” He smiles warmly, his hand reaching for the door knob to his office. “Work hard.” He cheers quietly before you tell him to do the opposite.

The day carries on with papers after papers. Files after files, stacks after stacks. It was all tiring, today you seemed to be the busiest you’ve been in a while. Luckily the coffee Baekhyun gave you made you wide awake and ready to tackle all the work load thrown at you.

You head to the printing room, and surprised to find it empty. You’re lucky no ones formed a line, you wait for your papers to print and turn to leave. You bump into none other than Byun Baekhyun making both of your papers fly over the room.

“Come to steal my papers?” You say from the ground, the door bumped you on your ass.

Baekhyun’s eyes widen, “Oh my god, I’m sorry I didn’t see you there.”

“Well obviously, there’s a door.” You joke, switching on your knees to pick up your papers.

Baekhyun kneels down to help pick up your papers as well. Both your hands reach for the same paper and they touch, the electricity shoots through your finger tips and your cheeks redden.

How cliché.

“Again i’m really sorry.” Baekhyun says helping you up and handing you back your papers. You’re too embarrassed by the physical contact you made to say anything, so you nod and leave.

You sit at your desk sorting through the freshly printed papers before you realize they’re not yours. Baekhyun gave you the wrong papers and in a rush you left without checking.

You don’t want to confront him about it though, not after what happened in the printing room.

But you have to. Of course you have to—

“Miss Y/n come to my office.” Baekhyun’s voice booms over the intercom. You cringe inwardly, he used your first name out loud, and now everyone knew where you were heading.

You stand up and collect the papers before adjusting your skirt. You turn take a few steps arriving at Baekhyun’s door in literally 5 steps. Couldn’t he have just come out and ask you to see him, himself?

You knock before hearing a faint “Come in.” you proceed to open the door and become immersed in his dark office.

“Miss Y/n, we must’ve gotten our papers mixed up.” He starts, he looks through his stack of papers separating the ones that weren’t his.

“I noticed but I forgot to come here to exchange them...” You lie, Baekhyun looks up at you with an eyebrow quirked.

“I thought you would’ve came sooner you were so slow about it, I had to call you.” He teases, but there’s an underlying sternness to his voice.

You can’t help but squirm under his gaze, switching your weight on your other leg.

“Here are the papers.” You hand them back, his fingers linger over yours and you want to run back to your desk and hide.

Baekhyun enjoys the skin ship before you nervously stutter out an excuse to leave. Leaving Baekhyun to stare at the door smiling.

***

Friday night finally comes and if someone would’ve told you, you would be nervous on this date you would’ve called them crazy.

Your ears are adorned in simple earrings, a necklace laying on your collarbones. A simple tan colored camisole and tight skirt as your outfit. Baekhyun said it was a casual dinner date.

You almost gasp as he joins you at the table, you stand to greet him giving him a short hug.

“Baekhyun you almost look cute in casual clothes.” You tease him, a smile on your face.

He’s dressed in a simple tee with a chain and some dark colored jeans. His hair isn’t slicked back it’s freely bouncing with his movements. He looks as casual as a CEO could be.

He smiles back at your teasing compliment, “And you look gorgeous.” He sincerely says.

“What are we eating?” You ask looking around, it looks like a casual Italian restaurant.

“Do you like anything specific on the menu?” You’ll eat whatever Baekhyun eats.

Minutes later—after Baekhyun orders—your food arrives. The smell makes your mouth water and your stomach almost growl. You twirl the pasta on your fork and eat it as gracefully as one could while eating pasta.

Baekhyun seems to be in lala land as he’s just watching you eat instead of eating himself.

“Earth to Baekhyun, are you going to watch me eat the whole time?” You wave a hand in his face and he seems to snap out of his trance.

“Sorry I was a little mesmerized by your beauty.” He says so sarcastically you gag.

“Ah shut up. This is really good though. I didn’t know this place existed.” You take another mouthful of pasta.

“It’s another hole in the wall type of restaurants, i’ve been coming here for years. The owners are really sweet.” He smiles, eating his own food.

“You know the owners?”

“Yeah they’re an old couple.”

“That’s so cute!” You gush.

Baekhyun displays a lopsided grin, “Yeah, they are.”

***

“This date went really well, The food was delicious, the music was great. This was really sweet of you actually.” You admit shyly. The date was nothing you expected but Baekhyun exceeded your expectations.

“It was nice to finally eat there with someone as well. I had a good time with you.” Baekhyun’s smile is genuine, his cute canines poke out slightly, adding charm.

“I actually have to run by the office to get some papers I left. Do you want to come with?” He asks, reaching for your hand. You let him hold it before answering.

“Sure, why not.” You smile sadly at him. Even when he’s not working he’s working.

***

“I swear I had them in this drawer. Maybe they’re in this one.” Baekhyun opened many drawers and flipped through many folders to find his lost papers. His eyes ran over the desk before stopping. He plucked a folder from under another folder and let out a noise of success.

“Finally, I can work on these at home.”

“Baekhyun?” You called from in-front of the desk, sitting in one of the plush seats

“Huh? Yes Y/n?” He looked up at you, eyes displaying bags under them.

“Why don’t you take a vacation or something. You over work yourself so much.” You were worried for his health at times. He was too hard working.

“You are my vacation. Today was my getaway, on that date with you.”

Your cheeks are more red than a chili pepper.

”I hate you.”

“Why?” Baekhyun stands and comes around to the front of his desk, standing over you.

“Because you’re so good at getting reactions out of everyone.”

“Everyone? Maybe it’s just you.” He pulled your ponytail making your head snap back eyes looking up at him.

Baekhyun smirks, a glint in his eye. “You know if I didn’t like you so much, that mouth of yours would get you in trouble. Someone should put it to some good.” He grabs your jaw, turning you to face him. His eyes pierce yours, his dark eyes holding something in them. Lust.

“Then do it.” You’re compelled to give in, his eyes and his grip on your jaw. His confidence in knowing he’s having you is making you give in more. You would let him take you right here, in this room. Over his desk.

He placed you down roughly. Hiking up your skirt, he ran a hand over your bare ass.

“Wearing thongs on a date? Who are you trying to impress?”

“I would say you but I wasn’t expecting you to be fucking me over your desk.” You wiggle your ass teasingly.

“I made you wear them.” He confesses, you stare at him from his position over you.

“What? If that’s how you dirty talk then don’t.”

“I’m the devil, Y/n I can make a lot of things happen.” He whispered. His eyes darted around your face thinking of a way to convince you.

“The devil who’s a pervert—“ Your words are cut off by your own mouth being shut. Unwillingly shut.

He chuckles darkly, rubbing his hand over your bare ass. “What now my dear?” His hands strip you of your thong and skirt, leaving you with your top on.

“And I can shut that pretty mouth of yours as well.” He unzips his lips, and you’re able to speak again.

“Y-you just-“

“I told you my dear. I am the devil.” He whispers, his voice tickling your skin.

“Well make some demonic things happen over this desk or i’m leaving.” You say playfully.

“My pleasure.” He almost growls, his hands warm as they travel over your body to remove articles of clothing. You’re naked on his desk and he’s still dressed.

“Lucy-“

“Call me Baekhyun.” He commands, “Stand up.”

You do as you’re told. And he turns you around facing him before he kneels, bringing your thigh over his shoulder. He makes eye contact with you before licking a quick stripe up your clit. You gasp, brows furrowing at the feeling.

“B-Baekhyun do it again, that feel so good.” You plead.

He licks once more, twice, thrice. He’s leaving kitten licks on you and you’re squirming under his gaze. His dark intense eyes, and stark white hair. You want to so badly run your hands through it.

So you do. You pull at his locks and he grunts in response, his brows furrowing together. You pull him closer to your heat as he sucks on your clit.

He brings a hand up to your other thigh and it travels up to your tummy and he rubs it soothingly before laying his hand flat against it. He slides his hand around till it finds purchase on your waist, and pulls you closer if possible. His face is absolutely smothered between your thighs and he couldn’t be any closer. His eyes are shut, enjoying the moment and feeling of your warm body.

“You feel so warm, you remind me of hell.” He mumbles into you. It makes you giggle the vibrations going through you.

Baekhyun brings a digit up to your entrance and fingers you slowly.

The sensation is uncomfortable to you, should you tell him you’ve never been gone down on or fingered before? Would it only make his head bigger than it is? You remain silent, biting your lip.

“I can hear you, Y/n.” He whispers, looking up at you with those intense brown eyes. The gaze is penetrating enough nevermind his fingers. His lips curl into a smirk.

“Stop doing that!” You say embarrassed, your thoughts are private for only you to hear. How can you stop all the dirty thoughts about Baekhyun now that he can hear them?

“I can still hear you.” Baekhyun teased, rubbing your clit with his thumb as you grumble at his teasing. Your pouting turning into quiet moaning, filling the room.

The expanse of Baekhyun’s broad back was on display for you. One of your thighs tossed over his broad shoulder, making you feel small and cared for. You couldn’t resist to run your hand over his shoulders and back.

Baekhyun glances up at you through his lashes, an evil glint in his gaze detected by you. He tosses your other thigh over his shoulder and your forced to grab onto the desk for support. You’re bent at the hips, your ass hanging off the desk as your upper body lays back on it. Baekhyun’s lifting your lower body higher and higher. He still licking you over and over, playing with your bud.

It’s not much longer till Baekhyun’s coming undone. His bulge in his pants very noticeable, you could feel it. Baekhyun carefully set you back on the desk again, your thighs removed from his shoulders. He takes your hand and rests it on his belt.

You look up at him your eyes shinning in the fluorescent lighting. Baekhyun smirks at the lust clouding your vision.

“Come on sweetheart, shouldnt you know how to undo a mans belt yourself?” He whispers darkly, lifting your chin with a single finger.

You begin to undo his belt and unzip his pants. Revealing his boxers, his bulge is almost poking through. You carefully pull him out, exposing him. Baekhyun hisses at your cold hands around his hot member, gazing at the innocent look on your face.

He would love to take the look and twist it till no innocence was left. The thought of taking something so unknowing and exposing it to the known made his skin awaken with goosebumps. He wants to defile you, oh so well.

And that he will.

You took his member in front of your lips and kissed it timidly. You’ve never done this before, what if you embarrassed yourself? You licked Baekhyun’s dick, looking up at him for guidance. He took your face into his hand and guided you gently. He bobbed your head slowly, letting you set the pace for what you were comfortable with.

Was Baekhyun being a gentleman?

“Yah—stop thinking that.” He groans out as you lick up his shaft. “I can still hear your thoughts willingly or not.”

You’re embarrassed again, cheeks tinting scarlet. You try to clear your mind and blank out every thought but found that harder than you thought. Every thought was filled with Baekhyun fucking your throat, or him kissing you to death. You wanted either or.

Baekhyun gathers your hair into a ponytail, keeping it off your face. How sweet, you mentally thank him as he starts to thrust into your mouth slowly, testing you. You stilled, letting his length travel further and further. Staring up at him through your lashes sent a chill straight through him. Through all the shit he’s seen for as long as he’s been alive this made his heart beat rapidly. The woman he’s wanted for so long on his desk letting him fuck her mouth, so sloppily yet so, so good.

Baekhyun pushed deeper, entering your throat now. To your surprise you didn’t gag, did you have a gag reflex? No, absolutely not. And this definitely played into Baekhyun’s favor. He went deeper and deeper each thrust till you were nose deep in his tummy. He delivered one final thrust before taking his member from your mouth.

Baekhyun pulls you up to sit up straight he takes your hands and guides them to rest on his shoulders. He looks between you both before guiding his member to your dripping heat.

He slides in so perfectly you let out a delicious whine. The sensation makes you feel full, Baekhyun smirks. Damnit.

“Stop reading my thoughts, Lucy.” Despite your words, you can’t help but to rock back and forth on his cock. You throw your head back, a moan caught in your throat.

Baekhyun places kisses down your neck, over your throat and on your collarbones, worshipping your warm skin.

He lets you control the speed, adding a few thrusts when he can’t help it. Or just to simply hear you squeal.

It’s addictive.

The noises filling the workplace after hours are sinful. You hope there are no wandering janitors or employees that stayed overtime to hear you. You feel the blood rush to your cheeks and you hear Baekhyun let out a moan telling you to go faster.

Your hips speed up, the position is stimulating your clit at the same time and you begin to fall apart.

Baekhyun’s grip on your hip is numbing, he’s rocking you on his cock. He swears he’s never fucked like this before.

The desk squeaks as Baekhyun pushes you back and pulls out of you, cumming all over your exposed tummy.

You’re both out of breath, taking in deep breaths as you try to calm your speeding heart rate. You hold onto Baekhyun’s arm, pulling him down onto the desk with you. You want to stay like this for eternity, but sadly this is where you work.

“Alright Y/n.” Baekhyun pats your thigh, “Let’s get you home.” His smile lights up the room.

“Okay, Lucy.”

Happy Halloween! These Halloween themed stories were so much fun to write, I really enjoyed coming up with different concepts and seeing how you all reacted to them. :)

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