#am i guilty of fucking up the arrangement because i was more proud of some segments than others? yes

[lostonehero]

Corpse Micheal YouTube or whatever

Micheal hums and looks through the chat as he streams on a sunny Friday. It's his first back to normal stream after he got new legs, and he is trying his best to relax. Maybe he could pull questions for his father to distract himself.

A frequent question popped up on a larger screen Henry set up so him and William had an easier time responding to comments from people who donate. "What did you look like when you were alive?"

William hums. "When I was alive? Oh, I was smaller than this. The spring lock suit is built for me but is also larger and full of metal, obviously. I'm originally 6ft3in. I heard Micheal got taller than I was, which I am proud of. I had brown hair Micheal got from me and green eyes. Henry always considered me too skinny, but I was fine, I guess."

Henry pulls a picture off his phone of both of them on the opening day of the diner. "Here's a picture we're in our 20s in this photo. If you look closely, you can see baby Micheal and baby Charlie asleep in the corner. William cut his hair short for the opening to look more professional. You can see I used to have dark blonde hair before it turned gray."

William pauses, watching the screen zoom by with the same message over and over. "Henry, what does d i l f mean?"

"Jeremy I swear to fuck if you answer I am going to shove my hand so far up you-" Micheal's threat is cut off as his uncle hums.

"Oh, it's a variation on Gilf, Micheal explained to me what that meant, so I did some research on my own, and it seems to be a new subclass of acronyms, uh like how we would make comments in college about the professors, but in regards to father figures." Henry walks back over to William's side and puts his phone back in his pocket.

William pauses, then makes a soft aha noise. "I wasn't a good-looking guy, though. I mean, maybe it would be the height going for me."

"Don't count yourself out, Mr. Afton, Micheal was very, very nice looking when he was alive, and he was your spitting image, except he had blue eyes and freckles." Jeremy chuckles as Micheal covers his face. "Oh, don't be embarrassed. You were hot, and now you're hot in some weird necrophicalic wet dream."

"That's would be you." Micheal sighs.

"Guilty." Jeremy giggles. "Anyway, to be fair, I've met Micheal's mother more than his father. Your mother was fucking creepy."

"Yeah, I'm not going to argue on that one because you're right." Micheal taps his fingers on his mechanical thighs. "Uh, sorry you guys were arranged, Father."

"Wait, who told you?" William's head turns fast to stare at his son, causing the sound of rusted metal grinding on each other.

Micheal blinks. "I found out going through old papers in the old house before I died, but after mother died, and you went missing well died. It's a shitty contract, and you were basically sold like a toy. That's like super fucked up."

The chat is going wild with plot twists and dilfs sprinkled through

"Hey, I kept my end of the deal. I never told him, but I was right. One of your kids would figure it out." Henry taps his cane against the grass. "But that's the past, and we both know we can't change that and only move forward."

William shakes the ground as he falls to sit on the ground. "Well, I'm sorry. The last memories I have of my son were when he was a teenager. No offense, you've grown into a good man, but I don't really recognize you as this undead creature."

Micheal holds up his hand. "Eh, don't apologize. I don't recognize myself anymore when I look at old photos. I've been like this too long. I do miss having actual eyes, though. It would help convey emotions more."

"You just miss rolling your eyes." Jeremy smiles.

"Maybe." Micheal chuckles softly. "Anyway, you two continue the stream is supposed to be about you two because of the demand."

"I still don't understand the appeal. I'm a skeleton in a suit, and Henry should be relaxing, which I know this is the closest he'll ever get." William shrugs.

Henry huffs. "I've gotten better than when we were younger."

"Henry, you haven't even sat down yet." If William could he would be making a I told you so face.

"Oh, Hush, you." Henry sighs.

.....

The streamed dragged on, and Micheal was planning on ending it soon since they shouldn't be broadcasting everything. He stops when his uncle speaks up.

"One night stand?" Henry pauses musing for a moment. "Oh, right, I forgot I told you guys about that."

Micheal quickly runs into the frame. "How about we not talk about that."

Henry chuckles. "We're all adults here, Micheal, and besides, I'm sure your father can add more details he always recovered better after a night of drinks than I did."

"That's because I actually drank water with the alcohol." William hums. "Are you referring to college or the time after we finally made profit for the first time at the diner?"

"Oh, I forgot about that time. Oh, I should apologize to Margaret." Henry scratches at his beard as the chat goes crazy.

"You know she cheated on you for a long time." William crosses his arms.

"I mean, I know that now, but still. Anyway, a lot of drinks were shared, and we had this old beat-up mattress in our old workshop." Henry stops when Micheal makes a groaning noise. "Oh, come now, don't be embarrassed. We're all adults here."

"To be fair, Micheal was a bit sheltered after everything." William hums. "I did go to an all boys school, so I mean it wasn't unheard of where I was. College was the first time I actually had classes with women."

Micheal huffs as Jeremy giggles.

"So, was the sleeping together a normal occurrence?" Jeremy smirks.

William shakes his head, making soft metal grinding noises. "As much as I would have performed to be in a relationship with Henry, the times were different, and we both had kids of our own. I wasn't stupid enough to risk losing our business over feelings besides after the second time Micheal learned how to crawl and well I had to take him everywhere with me unless I wanted to risk Clara doing anything. Besides, Henry also used that as an excuse to bring Charlie to work all the time. To be fair, you both kept each other busy, but then Micheal would find a way to climb out or undo the locks, and Charlie would follow."

Henry starts to laugh. "My, you had Micheal on a leash so he wouldn't accidently hurt himself. I mean, to be fair, you were a very quiet child and easily escaped whatever we tried to keep you in. Up until you were two, William would carry you on his back after the times you escaped. You adored it and would make Charlie jealous, but she hated being held for long periods, unlike you, so as a compromise, she would play with the mascot heads." He smiles. "You were such a trouble maker."

Micheal looks away and crosses his arms. "I know I was a bad kid. You don't have to remind me."

William gets up and places his hand on Micheal. The heavy weight seemed to relax Micheal only slightly. "You weren't bad Micheal you didn't talk till you were 6, so it was very hard keeping track of you since you were so quiet. You started to speak after you spended time with your sister, which made your mother furious because Lizzie's first word was Mikey."

"They were?" Micheal held a look of surprise on his rotted features.

Jeremy smiles as he gets an idea. "Do you blame Micheal for what happened to Evan?"

Micheal gasps. "Jeremy what the actual fuck!"

William tilts his head. "Why would I blame Micheal for that he was a kid. We all did bad things as kids, and Micheal just wanted attention. I know I wasn't there for him, I was stuck trying to figure out what went wrong with Baby and then the guilt about Charlie was eating me up inside and your mother was making things worse so again I'm sorry for ignoring you when you needed me. However, your mother did cause the rift between you two. She didn't want the same mistake that happened with Lizzie in her words she didn't want you getting close to him. I blame her more than you honestly, but that's not something I'm currently willing to discuss with you. Honestly, I regret not being there for you."

Micheal gives a strangled sob from his rotten lips. He is unable to cry but he was getting overwhelmed with the information.

"Hey Mike, it's alright." Jeremy hefts Micheal over his shoulder. "I think he needs a break. You keep chatting in the live." He waves and carries Micheal inside.

William sits back down. "Did I say something wrong?"

Henry shook his head. "No, Micheal just thought you blamed him and hated him."

"I never blamed him." William gave a death rattle of a sigh. "I'm not ready to tell him the full story yet, and you haven't told me what you two fully discussed, so it's hard. I just wish he didn't hate himself. I also thought he would be amused hearing about us. I always thought he knew. You know Charlie did, and she told we we were terrible at hiding it."

"Now you're making things up." Henry raised his brow crossing his arms.

"You can ask her yourself. Children notice more than we give them credit for. Charlie told me a lot like the machines you've hidden under the shed." William chuckles at the surprise expression on Henry's face. "Don't look so shocked she grew up even if she doesn't sound it."

"And why did she tell you and not me?" Henry frowns.

"Because she hates seeing you upset." William hums softly. "It's the same how you are with her. Neither of you two likes to discuss anything serious, afraid to upset each other. She is your daughter."

Henry sighs. "I want to talk to her, but I always worried she wouldn't understand."

"She will." William gets up. "No, go inside and check on Micheal. I'll keep these viewers busy and answer questions."

"You're only asking because you can't fit inside my home doors." Henry smiles softly, making his way inside.

......

"Did you hurt Micheal?"

William growled at the comment, and his voice box glitched for a moment with his heightened emotion. "How dare you accuse me of something so monstrous. I am nothing like my father, and I doted on Micheal. He always got so annoyed as he got older, and he said I embarrassed him. On a rare day after Elizabeth passed, we reconnected for a brief moment." He sighs as uncomfortable as that noise is. "I miss that, and of course, now I can't do anything I want to do with him. I still can't comprehend how much time has passed since I got stuck, and I regret not reaching out. I abandoned him, and I abandoned him when he needed me the most. I don't know how he is now we've only spoken truly a handful of times recently but he seems to avoid any sort of topic that involves the past or even when I bring up happy memories it's as if he can't recall them." He shakes his head. "That's enough of that."

The chat seems to go somewhat wild. Some comments about traumas and ptsd. Then, another bold one popped up with a donation. "Will you ever be romantically involved with Henry?"

William pauses, scratching his chin. "I don't see how that is possible with everything. Again, you guys, I'm literally just bones in an animontric spring lock suit. I mean, Micheal seems to make it work with Jeremy. I don't think Henry ever felt the same about me. It's wishful thinking to think that man could ever love someone like me. He's always been a good man, a kind man, someone I could never get on the same level. He has always been so much better than I have been, so much better with machines, with kids, and with family. I've always been different, odd. I guess probably why I was arranged into marriage." He shrugs.

"What was Clara like?"

"I'm not answering that." William's voice was stern.

The chat started to pick up again. Another donation, another question. "Who topped?"

"Topped? I don't know what that is referring to. If it is a sexual question, I prefer not to. However, I don't have any ability to do anything of that nature in my current state. I know Henry has already started working on my new body. He has finished Micheal's, but he is waiting for his birthday to gift it. I honestly don't know if he'll accept it. I will happily take a new body. I just want the pain to stop."

"You're still in pain?" A few donations had this question.

"Yeah, I am." William looks away. "I mean, it's as if it's the day the failure happened. The pain has never stopped, and I don't understand why. I've spoken to Charlie about it, and she doesn't know. She says it might be fixed if I'm in something different. It's dulled when Henry takes my skull so I can speak to Charlie, but it never goes away. I don't know why we thought this death trap was a good idea."

"You're still answering questions?" Jeremy comes into view of the camera.

"Is everything alright?" William turns his attention to the blonde man.

"Yeah, Micheal's alright for what it is. He needs serious therapy, but again, it's incredibly hard to get him to do anything like that." Jeremy frowns. "Gareth is talking to him right now. Anyway, goodbye." He shuts the camera off along with the stream.

[izzyspussy]

Say more about the platonic soulmate au, the world (me) needs it pls and thank ~ blackhannet anon

So like. Having a soulmate tattoo just kind of instantly Marks you as QueerTM. right, like. even people who don't have one nvm one that matches yours don't want to be your friend, because clearly you'll get Weird about friendship and make things all Strange. like how straights don't want to be friends with gays because WhAt If ThEy HiT oN mE. but platonic.

like. stede would have been ostracized for being obviously queer regardless, as we see perfectly well in canon, but this is just one more reason and one he literally can't grow out of or hide. (i'm trying to decide on placement here but idk yet.)

but also like. the marks can't be scarred over either i feel like, right. if they don't fade or crease, right, they don't scar either. you can't cut them or burn them off, and if you get injured over yours you'll still have a scar there but the tattoo will show over it, maybe a little warped by being textured, but not ruined. (thought of this because i was like omg what if it's on the left side of their gut kasflksksl. but then idk if i like that actually. that's kind of an ed thing, yk?)

and! it's also kind of societally assumed that people who have soulmates can't romantically love, so people don't want to get into that kind of relationship with them either. (hello. my feelings. my irl feelings that i am hurting.)

izzy is a supremely stubborn and proud man, and i think that's kind of a natural disposition for him. so he literally always was real upfront and Say Something about his tattoo, and he deliberately keeps his ink tattoos sparse so as not to hide it. (getting a ton of ink tattoos is really the only way to cover one up, make it blend in.) he's been lonely of course, and hurt and frustrated, but he's never been ashamed of it.

stede on the other hand absolutely thinks he's some kind of heartless, broken freak. and a nancy boy on top of it! good heavens! from loooooong before he even reaches puberty he's certain he's an irredeemable pervert. never has there ever been a glass closet so clear.

but the placement isn't too ostentatious (it's not the x, i'll tell you that much lmfao) so in stede's case the secret can be kept, at least during adulthood when there are no shared bunks or locker rooms or whatever the fuck boarding schools have. he can be fully dressed at all times and no one ever has to see it!

but then the marriage. and like. stede's father, who is arranging this, could not more obviously have not forgotten about stede's soulmate tattoo, but also it really seems like he has? because he visibly disapproves when stede floats the idea of telling mary about it, but he also certainly would not approve of stede saying it's an ink tattoo which is dirty and crass, so like??? what is stede supposed to say?? (i'm sure you've had a similar experience, i think we all have lmao.)

anyway so like i said on their wedding night is the first mary hears of this whole thing, when she sees stede's tattoo with her own eyes. i think at first he's honestly just trying to pretend it's not there lmfao. and then he does try to say it's an ink tattoo but can't commit to that because, again, it's just a different kind of BadTM innit, and finally he confesses what it is and he's, like, crying and pathetic and whatnot.

i think mary is actually probably kind of chill about it. like, she already knew she and stede didn't love each other, and nobody was ever trying to say they'd eventually fall in love either. maybe it's even a little bit of a relief that - as far as she's been told - he can't love her, so she doesn't have to feel bad if she never loves him either. that's quite a guilty thought tho so she buries it down and doesn't really acknowledge it until after he leaves.

anyway yeah. stede is arograce and izzy is aroallo and ed is alloace. and they're gay!

[ygreczed-3]

The Red Guard and the Snow Angel

Hank and Connor’s kiss

Hank and Connor fighting

Hank and Connor having good time with Sumo

Connor’s “I’m not going anywhere”

Gavin and Nines : interface

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

They eventually find something in one of the books : Kamski is known to live in a castle, with 7 beautiful angels to serve him. No one knows how to get to Kamski's castle, since the pike is guarded by the darkness war spirit (actually Kamski being the powerful magician he is, sealed the war spirit to the castle, condemning it to the protection of the whole rock he lives on).

On their first attempt getting to the castle, Hank gets injured, and they're forced to retreat to Nestlepeek

Connor stays near Hank as he recovers, and can't help but touch him with noticeable loving attention. Nines sees him but just decides to say nothing, knowing he's too emotionally compromised with Gavin to give his brother a lesson. Gavin is totally oblivious to that, he's just very bad at hiding his concern for Hank (yes ! he is low-key worried for his human comrade).

X

Nines somehow gets to talk calmly with Nines, for the first time since the street fight.

Nines : I just don't understand. You've always been so ambitious, always training to be more powerful, why don't you use this aspiration to channel the power source and thus use it? It doesn't make sense. Gavin : It's… It's just too fucking much to process okay ? This war spirit is in me, I can feel its thirst for blood and violence all day long, and I know I can't control him because I…

Gavin just stops before he can say he's too confused with his own priorities now to have a defined goal he can use to canalize the spirit's energy. He used to know what he wanted to do with his power, but now, he feels a latent part of him wants to use it to protect his partners, Hank, and the two snowy idiots. He's still not ready to admit it outloud and thus, the spirit having no specific goal to unleash its violence, is in fact uncontrollable. 

Nines, who is a bit more honest with himself than our favorite rat, already knows he cares for Gavin more than he should in regard to his given mission, and just feels so useless when Gavin refuses to talk to him. At this point Nines only wants to help him. He looks quietly at Gavin's nape, where the seal of the war spirit is still noticeable and forms a delicate golden scar. The Golem feels a little contradictory about this scar, one part of him being satisfied and proud of the mark he was able to let on Gavin's body, and the other part of him feeling guilty for it.

Nines : I'm sorry for this. You didn't ask for it and now you have to deal with… a war spirit and unwanted killing desires. I sometimes forget you're only human, it's not in your nature to use magic. Gavin : … It's okay. Let's just… stop talking about the spirit, deal ?

Nines remains carefully silent when Gavin offers his hand in a casual manly shake. He knows humans culturally use handshakes to settle an arrangement, and decides to ignore the deep and intimate meaning of this specific gesture in his own culture. Their hands meet, as Nines' skin unwittingly turns white at the contact, but the golem doesn't pay much attention since a human can't interface anyway. Gavin's smug expression shows he's  about to say something but his grin fades away as Nines realizes their mistake : in a flash, he can feel Gavin's doubts about his unsaid desire to protect Nines despite his hatred for golems. Nines isn't sure what passed through the contact and doesn't have a clue on what impression Gavin had about his inner thoughts, or if he even felt or saw something. The human is the first to break the contact. He looks shocked, as he meets Nines' eyes and for a moment, none of them can speak. 

Gavin : The hell was that ?!

Nines is confused too : … I didn't know it would… interfaces only happen between magic creatures… Maybe… the spirit allows you to connect with me.

Gavin : What the… You read my thoughts ? Nines : It's not… mind reading. I caught a diffuse… "impression".  Gavin : … Shit.

Gavin looks suddenly so betrayed. He looks down and sideways, taking a few steps away, hands on his neck as if he was trying to hide his head between his arms. When Nines tries to get closer, he almost jumps away.

Gavin : Don't- Fuck it, don't… touch me. Nines : I'm sorry, I didn't mean to probe you. Gavin : What exactly did you… hear or whatever? Nines : … I think… I have an answer for why you can't use the spirit's violent spree. Gavin : Fuck you, that was private ! Did you search for it you fucking asshole ? Nines : Like I said, I didn't mean to interface with you ! You too must have seen something from me so stop being a child. Gavin : I didn't-

Nines waits patiently for the end of the sentence but it never comes, as some realization seems to dawn on the human warrior.

Gavin : That nice fluttering in the stomach, when we held hands, actually it was you ?

And for once, Nines is the one to remain silent, his face even but internally too embarrassed to answer the question. No wonder this sensation passed through the connection. For the few seconds their hands touched, Nines was, in a Golem way, experiencing a gesture akin to a kiss, of course he was kind of "emotionally impacted".

Nines : … As I said… let's not embarrass ourselves any further.

And at that exact moment, Gavin realizes that Nines likes him… more than a partner, more than a friend.

X

In their room, Connor is holding Hank's hand. 

Hank : So, what should we do ? Connor : I didn't think about it yet. I wanted to be here when you wake up. Hank : ...I still have three days of bed rest at the very least… Are you sure you want to lose all this time when we're so close to the goal ? I mean, we already went through the desert, you don't need me anymore. Connor : Of course I need you, Hank. Hank : Ahaha… It's nice to go easy on me like this but you don't have to- Connor : You have to trust me, when I say I need you. It's not because I think you can help me go faster or even because I think you can help me cross a specific territory. I just… need you because you mean something to me.

Hank stays quiet but tightens his hand around Connor's, looking down right at them, his large, calloused fingers embracing the golem's white and slender ones. A long and deep look into Connor's golden brown eyes tells him there is more into this already meaningful gesture than he might think.

Connor breaks the eye-contact, and Hank realizes how intense the moment was : Connor's eyes inexplicably make him feel comfortable, as if he was floating in a warm air bubble, and he instantly misses the feeling when Connor stops mirroring his gaze to look down at their hands.

Connor : You know… There is this ultimate quest upon us, something we have to achieve to save our people… And this goal governed us like it was the only thing that mattered… Maybe I'm being a selfish brat, but Hank you're so important to me, I don't want you to be injured or killed in all this. Hank : You're important to me too, Connor.  (And then Hank laughs, giving in to his stupid and unwanted feelings.) Actually, you probably couldn't even understand how much you mean to me.

When Connor meets his gaze with a puzzled expression on his face, Hank decides he has to tell him. If anything, Connor could still change his mind and keep going without him, and then Hank will be able to finally move on. He's too fucking old to pine for a pretty boy, and if it's gotta be painful then he wants it the sooner the better.

Hank : I… recently started to develop… indecent feelings… Connor, purposely obtuse: "Indecent" ? Hank : I mean... in a… hum… romantic way. Come on kid, don't make me say it. Connor : Why would "romantic" be "indecent" ? Hank : Dunno, I'm old and pathetic, you're young and cute, sounds indecent to me. Connor : Hank… I love you too. Hank : ...You, huh... Sorry what ? Connor : I mean every single word in this sentence, Hank, I really do. Hank : … Oh. 

Connor chuckles at Hank's blank expression, as his poor brain processes the information with unprecedented difficulty. And as Hank starts moving again, his brows frowning and his mouth forming an "o" like he was gonna say "why ?!", Connor just leans towards him and brushes his beard with his lips before meeting his mouth, softly.

And god, they love it. Hank leans forward to deepen the kiss, Connor catches his beard, his fingers following the edges of his chiseled jaw until they reach his neck and nestle around it.

And it's a weird sensation to Hank because he used to know what was hot passion and what was tenderness, and at this very moment, he could feel both in Connor's grip, burning fire and smooth touches at the same time. That's it, love, love everywhere.

They separate because the older man needs to breathe and hopefully, Connor remembered it because Hank was just gonna kiss him until he falls unconscious. 

Hank : Am I dead ? Connor : You're thankfully alive and safe, but you need rest. Stay calm. Hank : I can't  believe it… i'm… almost scared of falling asleep and realize you're gone when I wake up. Connor smiles smugly at this : he takes Hank's hand in his own, kisses the palm softly, his deep dark eyes locked on Hank's.  Connor : Sleep tight. I'm not going anywhere.

X

So, as soon as Hank can walk again, the party goes back to Kamski's peek.

Hank : I feel better but I admit that I don't think I'm able to fight anything right now. Maybe we can find another way ? Gavin : Humans and Golems can't beat a war spirit. But, huh… a war spirit could do. Nines : … Is that you you're talking about? Gavin : 'Know another war spirit around here ? Nines : But you… you can't control it… I mean, you're obviously facing a dilemma with your own motivations right now. I don't think you should endanger yourself in this state… Hank : What dilemma ? Gavin : Not your business. It's fine, I just need… I just need to meditate a little bit more. Connor : We don't need much more than a distraction just a moment until we reach the castle. There we'll activate the seal and it should stunt the spirit for some time. Nines : I'm not letting him go alone. Gavin : Still don't trust me, snow man ? Nines : I'm concerned for your well being. I wanna help. Hank : Well then we can do that. Nines and Gavin take care of the spirit and Connor, we get to the castle as fast as we can. You're good ? Connor : … Yeah, that sounds good. I just need to talk with Nines. In private.

Hank and Gavin just look at each other, surprised, but then they leave the brothers for their serious talk.

X

Connor : What was that ? "I'm concerned for you well being" ? Gavin is right, only a war spirit can compete with a war spirit… even if we wanted to, we couldn't help. Nines : Gavin can't control his spirit. I saw it when we interfaced, he truly can't, no matter how much he meditates, as long as he will have this dilemma, he can't make it. Connor : Wait what ?! Interfaced ? How ? Nines : Guess the spirit makes him sensible to magic connections. Connor : What's the deal ? Why can't he control it yet ? He's strong enough, and for what I know, ambitious enough, so it's only a matter of… Nines : He's confused. He grew fond of us, and he knows we're basically enemies. We're all being reckless, he's the only one to keep this truth in mind; if we can't reach Kamski, or if he refuses to help us, we'll have to go back to the war we left, go back to kill each other. He can't resign himself to accept his attachment to us if we're going to be his enemies again. Connor : … Do you think he can make it ? Against the darkness war spirit ? Nines : I don't. That's why he needs me there. If the thunder spirit takes control of his body, I'll be there to hit the seal in his neck. Connor : Oh Nines… You love him, don't  you? Nines : … We're selfish and weak, Con. This mission… our whole kind is waiting for us to succeed. And we're threatening this long awaited deliverance because we fell for humans…  Connor : ...That's why we can't fail. I understand you're worried but maybe… Maybe that's the reason why Gavin wants to try : he knows we can't fail now.

X

In the final act, Gavin and Nines get ready to fight with the war spirit, while Hank and Connor plan on reaching the castle as fast as they can, and find Kamski.

Gavin and Nines are hiding near the war spirit.

Nines : … Are you ready ? Gavin : I don't really have a choice there.

Gavin breathes deeply and steadily, to focus and calm down before entering the arena.

Nines : I'll be flying right behind you, okay ? It's factually stronger than me, so I have to maintain minimal distance with it, but I'll be ready to hit your seal when you need  me to, and help you run away if you're in a bad state.  Gavin scoffs : Thanks Snowman, I feel so confident right now, with you believing in me like this. Nines : … Sorry I just… worry. Gavin : Look, I was right, at that time, I couldn't do it and I was totally right. But today I… I'll do it. And I want to prove it to you. 

In front of Nines' incredulous stare, Gavin offers his hand : Nines narrows his eyes as he detects static electricity all around his fingers, as if his spirit was already eager to fight.

Nines : … Do you know what it means to us, Golems ? Interfacing with someone ? Gavin : Enlighten me, snow man. Nines : ...I'll tell you if we survive this fight. Gavin : Huh… fair enough. Now, take my hand, I'll show you.

Nines gulps nervously and reaches for Gavin's hand, his own fingers turning white as he gets closer to the human's warm skin.

And he can feel everything. It's a lot less blurry and chaotic than the first time, as somehow Nines' first sensation is Gavin's serenity about sharing his deep feelings. He catches a volatile thought that flies through the human mind, saying in a flippant tone "we might die, no need to get embarrassed", and smiles at it. Interfacing with Gavin is very special for some reason : Nines had interfaced with other Golems before but it was never so vibrant, so intense. "Maybe that's because we're about to die" he feels, and for a moment he wonders if that comes from him or from Gavin. Nines feels like Gavin is an extension of himself at that very moment. Suddenly, the realization he's gonna fight against a gigantic, ancient war spirit dawns on him. He feels scared, sure but somehow, confident as well. He can do it. He will do it now, because if he fails, he'd give up on his people in Detroit, his friends Hank and (surprisingly) Connor. He would give up on Nines and he's not ready to. He used to fear that he was making friends with an enemy… That they'd have to separate at some point, and go back to where they belonged, Detroit and Jericho. But if Gavin fails now, Detroit and Jericho are doomed. He used to fear that death was preying upon him… now he fears that his team could die. That Nines could…

If he fails now, Nines and he will be dead, and that is much more scary than befriending a Golem.

Nines frowns as he feels Gavin's hand twitching in his, as if he was about to draw it back. He wants to stay connected, he wants to melt into Gavin's mind, because he feels so scared right now.

All he can catch is a glimpse of something that sounds like "I have found some higher purpose in life than my own existence", before Gavin breaks the contact.

When Nines opens his eyes again, they're wet and his breath is short. Gavin too, seems a bit shaken up by the interface.

Nines wonders what exactly the human saw/felt/heard from him and feels very self conscious for a floating second. He wants to kiss the human, he can feel it in his vein, the fire of love rushing, burning his cold body. Gavin must have felt it through the interface… and somehow, Nines wonders if he knows. He doesn't seem shocked or… disgusted. 

Gavin : You okay ? Nines : Yeah… I'm ready to go.

Gavin exhales sharply : Alright, let's do this.

Nines : I've got your back. Everything will be alright.

So they get out of their hiding spot and as Nines takes off, Gavin summons the thunder spirit.

X

We then follow Hank and Connor, who are climbing up the rocky column at the top of which Kamski established his castle. Actually, Hank climbs it and Connor flies around to help him find the safe grips. 

They're constantly attacked by monsters with long members (parts of the war spirit), and can't fight them all back. They decide to run forward, and they finally reach a huge grid in a tunnel : Connor can pass between two bars, but Hank can't. Behind them, the monsters are getting closer.

Hank : Run before they catch us up ! Connor : Wait, there must be a way for you- Hank : I'm sure there must be, Connor, but we won't find the solution in the next few minutes we have. You have to keep going without me. Connor : What are you gonna do ? They're gonna outnumber you, and… and you're still healing from the last injury--- Hank : You have to find Kamski ! He must know how to stop those monsters, and the war spirit out there. He can help us ! Connor : … Yeah, right.

Connor puts his hands on the floor and ice columns grow up from the ground, keeping Hank in a safe space. When the man looks back at Connor with tenderness and gratitude, Connor kisses him through the bars.

Connor : The ice won't last long but it can buy you some time… Hank I… I love you. Don't let me down. Hank : I swear. Now, run, and don't look back.

Connor nods and starts running to the castle, as the monsters start to attack ferociously the ice cage Connor created. Hank knows it's not gonna last much longer, and that he'll have to fight. He prays to be able to see Connor again.

[smol-and-grumpy]

Golden Cage - Chapter.18

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: She’s a spoiled little princess — at least that’s what people say. Her father is the King of all Kings, the man who everyone fears. Then, along comes Dean Winchester, the one guy who manages to see into her soul, but — — is Dean really who he says he is?

Chapter Warnings: It’s just fluff. So much fluff. A tiny bit of angst at the end, maybe.

WC: 4481

Beta’d by: @deanwanddamons​​ <3

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

Become a Patron ~ Buy me a coffee

Two days later, Dean knocks at her door. It’s only 6.00 AM, but he’d rather get things going early because it means that he’ll have more time with her. 

Azazel stayed in the hospital a day longer than he had to because they ran some tests, but other than that, he’s up and about again, being his ruthless self. The usual, really. In fact, he’s doing so great that he arranged a family dinner for his daughter’s birthday tonight. And maybe that’s why Dean’s standing outside of her room at fucking 6.00 AM. It’s mainly because he’s selfish and wants her to himself for as long as he can before he has to take the princess back into her golden cage by 8.00 PM. 

Fourteen hours. They’ll have fourteen hours to themselves. Somehow it’s a long time, yet it doesn’t feel it’s going to be long enough. 

Y/N doesn’t open up and Dean waits. 

Another two minutes pass. He knocks again. There are going to be people waking up soon, walking about and Dean wants to avoid that. It’s not like he didn’t have permission, but he’s sure that there’s going to be questions about why he’s knocking frantically at her door should someone see him. Maybe even more questions, because people are nosy and Dean’s not really in the mood to answer them all.

Lifting his arm, he brings his knuckle down on the wood. Only once, because the door flies open, and there’s a hand tugging at his tie, pulling him into the room while the other hand closes the door and then Dean feels himself being pushed back by a warm body against his. 

His back connects with the closed door and there’s a set of lips on his while her hands hold his face, small fingers span wide over his cheek and she’s not quite kissing him right because she’s not on heels and is a little shorter than him, so he lowers himself a little, giving her better access so she could kiss him right. And he does all that while he grins into the kiss, his hands on her waist. 

She parts with a cheeky grin, “Good Morning, Dean.” 

Dean smacks his lips as he looks down, has to bend down and steal another kiss, just because he can. He smiles when he parts, “Happy Birthday, baby,” He almost said princess, but only because everyone calls her that now, “You’re already up?”

Her hands are still braced on his shirt, fingers toying with his tie and it’s now that Dean notices that she’s already dressed. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” She pouts adorably.

Chuckling, he brushes a hand over her cheek, tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, “Is that so?”

Looking up, Y/N nods.

“So, why didn’t you open the door when I knocked the first time?” He raises an eyebrow in question. 

Pushing herself away from him with a chuckle, she walks back to the bathroom, swinging her hips. Dean guesses it’s for good measure and to make him notice. Boy, he notices it alright, notices her dress. It’s a white flowery one. A dress that points out one’s innocence. It’s a little ironic, as Dean knows how dirty this girl is, knows what her tongue is capable of, and well, there he is, his fucking dick stirring in his pants at the sight and the knowledge.

“I’m still getting myself ready,” She calls out from her bathroom as if it’s a good enough excuse for not opening the door and let him fry outside. Dean takes it anyway, he told himself not to be annoyed at her, not on her special day.

Of course she’s getting herself ready. She doesn’t even know where they’re going, but he likes how excited she is about it. Dean steps further into the room and lays down on the still unmade bed. His nose catches the scent of her, it’s so sweet it’s almost nauseating. Maybe only because his body is filled with want. With the want to stay here. With the want to curl up in bed with her, forgetting everything around them. 

Looking to the side, he catches the balled up fabric underneath her pillow. Dean doesn’t have to pull it out to know that it’s the hem of his shirt. The one he made her wear after they fucked for the first time. A weird sense of pride washes over him. He’s proud to know that she still sleeps in it. Proud to know that by her doing that means that she’s his, isn’t she? His heart calls her his. It’s his mind that won’t allow him to do it. Not when everything’s so fucked up and it could blow up in his face.

Still deep in his thoughts, Dean grunts when he feels something heavy on his stomach. 

She’s straddling him with a grin, “Why are you collecting me so early?”

Dean’s hand rubs along the smooth skin on her bare thighs, hands squeezing at her flesh as he looks up. Her face is illuminated by the soft glow of the bedside light. She looks absolutely beautiful. 

He swallows before he speaks, a little taken aback by how much his heart wants her, “Because I’m selfish and want more time with you.” 

There’s a little frown on her face before it evens out and a smile starts to spread. She leans forward, kisses him soft and tender, and Dean draws her closer, his hand on the back of her neck. 

Capturing his bottom lip, she sucks on it, making him chuckle into the kiss, “Baby, we should get going,”

Releasing his lips with a wet pop, she groans as she sits right back up, “Ugh,”

Dean pushes her off him playfully and she squeals. Reaching out for her, he helps her up and rearranges his tie and shirt, careful not to look too ruffled up when he steps out of her room, which is risky enough in itself. 

Thankfully, this part of the house is still asleep. The only part that’s awake is in the back where the kitchen is situated. The maids and chefs are already preparing breakfast. 

They slip down the stairs undetected and it’s when they are in the car that she turns to him to ask where he’s taking her. 

“You’ll see,” He clicks his tongue against his lips, leaves it there and winks.

 *

 The first stop is at the restaurant and she recognizes it too as Dean slows down his car.

“It’s too early,” She says, “It’s not going to be open yet,”

Dean kills the motor and looks over at her, raising an eyebrow for good measure, “You sure?”

“Duh? Yeah? I have worked here, I know when we open! It’s certainly not before seven!”

He has to suppress his grin at her reaction. It’s super cute when she’s annoyed at him. 

Leaning closer, he whispers into her ear, “Look again,”

Y/N turns her head to look into the restaurant only to see the inside light up as Jo and Garth are standing by the window. In their hands are balloons and a big sign that says “HAPPY BIRTHDAY”. 

“No way.” She clasps her hand over her mouth.

“Yes, way.” Dean chuckles and gets out of the car, walks over to her side to help her out.

He lets her walk inside first because even though Dean told Jo and Garth to be ready when he arrives, he didn’t tell them about what they are. It actually pains him, but this is only the first stop. They will drive further away after their breakfast. Somewhere where they can be what they are with nobody watching them.

One table is already set up, and they all take a seat. Garth has outdone himself with fresh pancakes and waffles. He even made different variations of eggs and Dean digs into the bacon, scoops up more than the others. Can’t really help it, he just really loves bacon.

He didn’t say much during the meal. Instead, he listens to the three of them talk and he watches her every now and then, thinks it’s great to see her happy. It’s probably not something she is very often.

Apparently, Garth and Jo have never done this before. Never celebrated any birthdays with her. Not because they didn’t want to, Dean’s been told, but because they didn’t know if they were allowed to. It almost broke his heart to hear that, and after Dean asked them to take part in surprising her, they were so fucking excited. He doubts that Garth got any sleep at all from excitement, judging by the bags under the dude's eyes.

“Where are you taking her?” Jo asks and Dean almost spits the coffee out of his mouth because he didn’t expect Y/N to tell them that Dean’s taking her out. 

“Uh,” He stammers, “That’s top secret.”

“Come on, it’s us!” Garth drives his elbow into Dean’s ribs and he shuts the dude down with a glare. Garth can’t look away fast enough and Dean feels a little guilty, but he really doesn’t like to reveal it here. 

“Speaking of,” Dean clears his throat, “Y/N, we have to go if we want to get there today,”

“Uh,” Jo exclaims, “Sounds super ominous! It means that it’s far away, right?”

Dean doesn’t answer. Instead, he stands up and brushes at his mouth with the napkin before he lays it down into his plate. He ignores the other two, only looking at Y/N, “I’ll be waiting in the car.”

It’s only about five minutes later that she shows up and as soon as she gets in, Dean drives off with a screech.

“Why do you have to hurry?” Y/N’s still busy securing her seatbelt when suddenly, Dean stops at the curb just a block away. 

“Because,” He says as he releases his tie and yanks it from his neck, “I really want to get going.” Looking at her, he holds the tie in his hand, “Turn around.” 

“Dean? A tie? That’s kinky.” She giggles, but she’s a fucking good girl because she does what he tells her. 

He chuckles, as he wraps it around her eyes, blindfolding her, “Why? You want me to use it next time I fuck you, huh?”

She whimpers at how he talks. He knows that he can run a dirty mouth, but from what he gathered, she quite likes it. He also takes it as a ‘yes’ to his question, makes a mental note to do it sometime when they get to be alone in the apartment.

When the knot is secured on the back of her head, he tests it out to check that she really can’t see, and only when he’s absolutely sure, he lets her sit back. 

“Why do you have to do this?”

Dean's hand goes to her face, draws her closer to kiss the top of her head. Instead of answering her, though, he counters the question with a question of his own.

“You trust me, don’t you, baby?”

“Yeah,” She says in a firm voice. It makes him ache on the inside too, because she really does trust him, and how fucked up is it that he can’t even tell her the whole goddamn truth.

Pushing the thought out of his mind, he nods, “Good, you’ll like it, I promise.” He’s smiling, but she can’t quite see it. It’s a tired smile. One laced with doubts and uncertainty, but he hopes that the tone of his voice didn’t give it away.

 *

 “Are we there yet?” She whines.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N!” Dean growls next to her, “Do you think asking me that every ten minutes will make us get there faster?”

It’s true. She kept asking and they’ve only been on a road for an hour. It’ll take at least another hour and a half if there’s not too much traffic, but he avoids telling her that. 

She hits the back of her head demonstratively against the headrest, “Ugh, I’m just bored and I can’t see a thing!” 

Dean reaches out, rubs over her thigh with one hand, “Just a while longer, okay?”

Pouting, she takes his hand and weaves her fingers through it, “‘K,”

He grabs her hand, places them to his lips, kisses the back of it, “Good,”

After about twenty minutes after her outburst, she fell asleep. Dean knows that because her head tips back, exposing her throat and her mouth stays open, little snoring sounds coming out of it. He smirks at the sight, can’t really help it because it’s fucking adorable. There are weird pinpricks in his heart every time he glances over.

 *

 Y/N’s still sleeping when they arrive and Dean gets out of the car and takes a minute to inhale the fresh air tinted with salt. He closes his eyes, lets the breeze brush over his face and hair. 

When he opens them again, he unbuttons the top two buttons of his shirt and folds the fabric back on his forearm before he walks around the car to open the passenger door. 

He grins when she still doesn’t stir, is still sleeping soundly, a drip of drool at the corner of her lips. 

Jesus, he should not be feeling the things he feels but he does and he has got to face the consequences somewhen— 

—but not now. Not today. 

Dean leans down, nudges his nose to her cheek, plants kisses there and on her lips.

“Baby, wake up,” He breathes out, nudges her awake some more, carries on doing it until she starts to stir.

Y/N smacks her lips, yawns and Dean smirks. 

“Are we there yet?” Her voice is strained, still full of sleep.

He chuckles, “Yes,” Dean says and kisses her once more, “Yes, we’re here,” 

Taking her hand, he pulls her up, drapes her over his shoulder and she squeals at that. 

She’s barefoot, having taken her shoes off on the drive but it doesn’t matter. She wouldn’t need her shoes here. 

While Dean walks, he feels her stirring in his grip so he tightens his hands around her, doesn’t really want to drop her. Her hands are on his back, and his hands, well, his hands are on her thigh and ass. Can’t really help but squeeze it roughly, thinking that he won’t be able to resist getting a piece of that later. 

And all this while the man Dean’s supposed to meet is already waiting for him. Dean can see him standing in the distance, can see the man watching them, but somehow, he doesn’t care, squeezes once more, making her squeal again while he chuckles. 

“Where are we?” She asks, but Dean doesn’t answer. He’s sure that she must have already heard the waves crashing, must have smelt the salt tinted air, must have heard the seagulls crying overhead.

Instead of answering her, Dean nods to the man in the distance and sets her down, positioning himself behind her.

“Oh,” Her mouth forms an ‘o’ before a smile spreads on her face, “You didn’t,”

“Sure did,” He laughs as his hand releases the tie around her eyes.

There’s another squeal of excitement when she can finally see and Dean squeezes her shoulder, “Have you ever been to the beach?”

“No,” Her voice is weak, but he knows it’s only because she catches her breath, “I’ve been on yachts, yeah, but nobody has ever taken me to a beach yet.”

She’s been on yachts. Of course. 

He dips his head down, kisses her shoulder and she reaches back, threads her hand through his hair, “Thank you,” She whispers and tilts her head, kisses his cheek.

“That’s not all,”

“It’s not?”

Dean’s lips are still on her shoulder and he inches them closer to her neck, “Nuh-uh,”

“Nuh-uh?”

Kissing her neck, he smirks, “There’s someone who wanted to wish you a happy birthday too,”

“Who?”

He turns her around so she can see the man. There’s a yelp as she speeds towards him, leaving Dean to laugh and catch up. 

“Uncle Bobby!” She cries out excitedly.

Dean watches as he opens his arm in an embrace and Y/N goes in for a bear hug.

“I’m sorry,” She says, “I should have said goodbye,”

Bobby hugs her a little tighter at that, “Happy birthday my darling,” The man laughs, “Don’t you worry about that, okay?”

Dean has reached them both now, but he stays a couple of feet away, giving the two of them space. 

“Why don’t you come by the house any more?” Y/N sounds whiny. It’s more adorable than annoying, though.

The big man releases his grip on her, holds her by her arms before he brushes the knuckles of his one hand over her cheek, “I need to put as much distance between me and the family as I possibly can, dear. One day, you’ll understand.”

She frowns.

Bobby chuckles, “It’s for my own safety, sweetheart. But I miss you dearly. I’m glad Dean’s there for you.”

She looks back at Dean and he just shrugs.

“Once this is all over we can meet again, okay? I’ll take you to the aquarium.” Bobby’s smile starts to falter. Dean can see that the man tries to hold it together, but the glassy eyes give him away.

“When what is over?” Y/N asks curiously, seemingly not understanding what’s going on and Dean can’t blame her one bit. Both men don’t really know either, all they know is that someday, this is all going to be over, it’s more the when and the how that they have to work out.

“You’ll know it when the day comes, sweetheart.” The old man tries to calm her. 

“Ugh,” She sighs, “I wish you would stop speaking in riddles, my head hurts.”

Bobby has to chuckle at that. Dean’s surprised that she doesn’t ask more questions but again, he really shouldn’t be surprised. She was not raised to ask questions and it clearly shows.

“I’ve sent some books to your home. You still read, right?” Bobby asks, fingers pushing her chin up and she nods, “Good,” The man smiles, “Now, can you give me a minute with the fine young man here? I’ve got something to discuss.”

“‘K,” She says and steps to the side before she turns towards the waves. Y/N starts to walk and then stops before she turns back to them, “Can I go in the water?”

They both open their mouths at the same time but Bobby was quicker to answer her, “Of course you can, darling. Knock yourself out,” 

Her smile is bright as she starts to walk further away from them.

“Don’t swim!” Dean calls out, “The water is too cold and we don’t have a change of clothes with us!”

“Yeah, yeah, blah, blah” She mumbles, but it’s loud enough for them to hear and Dean thinks she’s doing it deliberately, the little brat.

Dean’s eyes widen and he has to gasp for air while Bobby is laughing heartily next to him.

“That’s what I have to deal with!” Dean shouts to Bobby and the old man places a hand on his shoulder, squeezes it. 

“Oh, son, you don’t have to tell me, I’ve done this for many, many years,” The man brushes a tear away from the corner of his eye and Dean has a hard time distinguishing if they are tears of laughter or some hidden sentiment behind Bobby’s facade. The old man takes a deep breath and looks into the distance, where Y/N is digging her toes into the sand before he opens his mouth to speak again, “But you wouldn’t want to have it any other way, would you?”

Dean’s eyes roam the distance too, tries to see what Bobby’s seeing. And he sees her. Sees how she lifts her skirt while she plays with the waves, flashing them half of her ass cheeks. 

He has to grin and shakes his head, “No, I wouldn’t.” 

There’s a smile tugging at his lips when he hears her squeal in delight.

Wouldn’t change it for the world, Dean thinks, but doesn’t allow himself to say out loud.

Bobby seems to notice Dean trailing off because the man clears his throat before he speaks, which prompts Dean to be pulled back into reality.

“So, tonight, huh?” Bobby looks at him.

He tears his eyes away from Y/N who’s standing in the wet sand and lets the wave wash up and rise around her ankles. She giggles as sand is swept away from under her feet, making her sink down.

“Yeah, tonight,” Dean answers Bobby absent-mindedly as he tries to keep an eye on her at the same time.

“My daughter will be there?”

Dean tears his eyes away from Y/N for a brief second to face the old man who’s looking at him expectantly. Dean nods, “Azazel invited her, yes.” 

“I hope he’s doing better.”

“He’s doing fine, sir,”

“Good,” Bobby nods, “Will you be updating me?”

“Y/N!” Dean shouts out loudly, “Get your feet out of there before you sink in too deep!” 

Bobby laughs at his outburst.

“This girl,” Dean mutters under his breath before he returns his attention to Bobby, “I’m sorry, yeah, I will.” He says, before he catches something in the corner of his eyes and is back to shouting, “Y/N! Leave it! Don’t touch it! It’s probably dead!” 

The girl is squatting down to inspect something that looks a lot like a dead fish from where he’s standing.

“She’s like a child sometimes, isn’t she?” Bobby chuckles.

Dean has to smile at that, “Yeah,”

“She has never learned to be any different, son, you have to go easy on her.”

“I am,” Dean breathes out, “God knows I am. Honestly, I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

The old man nods, before he looks around him. The beach is a little deserted. It’s not a prime spot for beach goers, it’s pretty much a secluded spot Dean once found, “It’s a nice location. Did you choose it or did she tell you that she wanted to go to the beach?”

“That’s on me, sir,”

“She’s never been. She’s never felt sand between her toes,”

“Yeah,” Dean smirks, “That’s what she’s told me.”

And it’s really no surprise that Y/N acts the way she does. She’s on her knees now, digging a hole in the sand. She’s happy and Dean likes that. Likes that he’s the one who can show her something new, something she’s never done before. It makes him see the world with different eyes too. Makes him not take things for granted that feel too natural to him. 

“Alright,” Bobby says after a while of watching Y/N, “I’ll leave you two to enjoy your day. Take care of her, okay?”

“I will,” Dean answers, knowing full well that if he says that he’ll try, it wouldn’t be good enough for Bobby.

It also serves as a reminder for himself because yes, he will take care of her. He just hopes he’ll be around long enough to do it.

The old man says his goodbyes and Y/N runs back to send him off. When Bobby’s gone, Dean sits down and takes off his shoes and socks and braces his arms on his knees as he sits with bent legs.  She leans her head against his shoulder. 

They both look at the waves crashing in and Dean tilts his face, places a kiss on the crown of her head, “You like it here?”

She smiles up at him. It’s a beautiful smile. One he wants to capture and store it in his memory to take it out whenever he needs a reminder how beautiful the world can be. 

Dean moves her after, places her in front of him, between his legs, as he wraps his arms around her and buries his face into the crook of her neck from behind. He places a chaste kiss there, “I was hoping you’d like it,”

“How did you find this place?” 

He exhales, has to clear his throat before he can speak again, “Use to bring Sam here when our father was gone for a long period of time. It always cheered him up.”

She tilts her head to look up at him and Dean takes the opportunity, places a kiss right between her eyebrows, “Sam?”

“My brother.”

“Are you two close?”

Dean swallows the lump in his throat, “We were.”

“Oh,” Y/N says and turns her gaze back in front.

Dean sighs, “Yeah, not anymore. He’s a lawyer, and I chose the wrong side to be on.” 

It’s not really a lie either. Sam never liked that Dean worked undercover, always hated it and after a while, Sam decided that he doesn’t want anything to do with him anymore. Somehow, Sam decided that it was better for him to act as if Dean was dead. 

He swallows down the lump in this throat, swallows down the tears that want to make their way to the surface, “I’m not a good man, Y/N. My own brother has cut me out of his life. Don’t say I haven’t warned you.”

She sits up on her knees and turns around, captures his face between her palms, “Dean, look at me,” 

Dean does. His eyes are clouded, but he does.

“Don’t say that, okay? You should give yourself more credit. Have you ever thought that maybe your brother cutting you out of his life was because he loves you too much? Because he was afraid that you’ll get hurt and it’s easier for him to pretend that you’re gone and you’ll never come back?”

He has in fact, never thought about it. Dean thought Sam really hated him. 

“Dean,” She smiles, and kisses him. It’s too gentle, a kiss that makes his heart ache. When she parts, she looks at him again, smiles as she speaks, “You’re the best man I know. You take care of me, you protect me, that’s all that matters.”

Is it really, though? He doesn’t know. All he knows is that he’s fucking betraying her too. 

“One day, maybe you can see Sam again?” She asks and Dean nods. 

Yeah, maybe one day Dean will find a way back to Sam. Maybe, that day will be here sooner than they all thought it would.

Before the mood could drop lower, Dean leans back a little and starts to fold up his slacks on each leg. When he finishes, he rubs over her arm, “Come on, race you to the water?”

Dean’s up and running before she can even register.

“Hey! Not fair!” Y/N yells after him, but soon she starts to laugh as she breaks into a run to catch up.

Chapter.19

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

[mrs-hollandstan]

Can I request mob tom Holland & reader, their marriage is arranged, Tom is not happy abt it as he loves someone else, he's cold towards her but she's a dedicated wife. He starts falling for her but feels guilty & is even more rude to her. Harrison realises it & dances with reader in party & gets all touchy, Tom gets jealous & has rough possessive sex with reader. Later he talks to her apologizes & all fluffy.

Okay, so I changed it a lil because I got an idea for a soulmate writing like this in the shower last night haha so here’s that, but I’m actually pretty proud of it and I hope you enjoy. Some NSFW down below.

Tom could have been arranged with any other woman in the world, but when it just so happened to be his soulmate, he was more irritated than ever and just nasty to you, mostly because he didn't enjoy the idea of being forced into a relationship just because the universe said so. He was cold and pissed beyond belief every time he was forced to be in the room with you. He liked making you jealous, liked spiting you when he slept with other girls. You were relatively neutral in sexual excursions just out of pure fascination and the fairytale like idea associated with soulmates. And Tom found that even after you were married and you were sweet in the beginning, you didn't seem to care about the women that came in the house for Tom. Even if you felt everything he did to them. 

The more he realized you turned a blind eye to avoid the fighting and the fluttering in your belly whenever he walked in a room just off of the idea that the universe wanted you together, the more he realized why the universe wanted you together. The match was uncanny, you were a balance. You were beautiful, smart and perfect and it just made Tom more angry. He was meaner, and Harrison was starting to catch onto why. He liked to refer back to that urban myth from primary school where if someone bullied you, they liked you. And for Tom, it was true. 

The night of a GALA held at Tom's mansion, Harrison had been the sweetest thing ever. He was pretty too and Tom could feel everything you felt towards his best friend. Especially the way Harrison's arm wrapped around you and you leaned into him, laughing about something he said. You'd had alcohol, Tom could feel the buzz, and the way Harrison met his eyes told Tom that Harrison was doing it on purpose. And Tom watched you lean against Harrison as he swayed you back and forth on the dance floor, your head laid over his shoulder. The warmth Harrison exuded made Tom warm and you felt the jealous flurry in yourself, but chose to ignore it instead relishing in the affection Harrison was providing that you hadn't had in a while. You loved the way Harrison laid his head over yours to make you feel safe. That is until it's ripped away from you. 

Harrison is careened back and punched in the nose, blood immediately gushing from the broken appendage as your body absolutely burns in a jealous rage so strong it brings tears to your eyes,

"Don't you ever do that again!" Tom screams in his best friend and right hand man's face, eyes dark and crazy before he grabs your wrist and tugs you after him towards a lounge around the ballroom. He slams the door, bracing you against it as he flicks the light on. He cages you between his arms and it should scare you, but it doesn't because the feelings he has coursing through him aren't anger towards you but something foreign. Lust, want. He leans in suddenly, his lips pressed to yours. He presses his body to yours when you reach up to thread your fingers through his hair, his arms wrapped around your waist after a moment. He lifts you, your legs binding around his waist as he carries you to the small couch in the room. He lays you on it rather roughly, reaching down to unbuckle his belt. You reach beneath your dress to scurry from your panties, Tom's eyes hooded and dark, never pulled from you before he's forcing you to your knees, gently nudging into you. But he doesn't let up. The second he knows you're adjusted, he's pounding into you, his heart encased in a prideful glow. He's the reason you're whimpering and crying, not Harrison. 

He brushes the sparkly, baby blue dress up over your hips, drawing his hand back to swat your ass roughly. You jolt, letting out a yelp and he does it again to the other cheek,

"Aah fuck." You whimper, dragging your nails across the fabric of the couch beneath you. Tom growls, dragging you up further by your throat, his hand wrapping in your hair as he demolishes you still, 

"You like that love? You like feeling so full of your husband's cock?" He spits, watching you nod. He knows that this is all you've ever wanted. You've always wanted to have him all over you, praising you, being rough with you, giving you the affection Harrison had. He knows you're touch starved because every time someone does touch you, whether it's a brush of your hands or rubbing up your arm, whatever it is, you ache minutes, hours after it, wanting more,

"Answer me the correct way." He growls in your ear, listening to you whimper, 

"Yes! Yes I love being full of your cock. Fuck!" You cry out, letting him push you back down, shoulders pressed to the cushion beneath you as he amps up his speed, screams and cries leaving your lips as he reaches beneath you to strum your clit. You move back against him, listening to him grunt and moan. You know he's almost there and he knows you are too, leaning over you to nip at your ear, 

"Cum for me. Show me how much you appreciate this cock." He growls, letting your head fall back against his shoulder, 

"Fuck Tom… fuck!" You cry, letting out a string of curses before you cum and he swats your ass again, praising you through it, 

"Good girl." He coos as he draws out and jerks his own cum out across your lower back. He pants as you lay beneath him, struggling to catch your breath. When he stands and isn't touching you, he can feel the panic that sets in you, he can feel the used feeling that courses through your body like blood, he can feel the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes as he finds a towel to dry you off with. He returns, your eyes avoiding of his before he fixes his tie and huffs, brushing your dress down, 

"Sorry I just uhh, I didn't… I didn't like seeing him all over you. It uhh… it made me… jealous. And I don't know why because… I've always said I hated you but… I don't think I do." He mutters, sitting on the floor in front of you. You sit up, finding your underwear, 

"You broke his nose." He waves a hand in front of you, 

"I know. And I owe him because I know he did it on purpose. Danced with you…" He says. You cock your head, 

"What do you mean?" You can feel the uncertainty within him as he swallows, avoiding your eyes, 

"He… knows how I've felt about you recently." He murmurs, your eyebrows knitting together as he fixes himself, running his fingers through his curls,

"What?" You ask. He glances up at you, dark eyes sparkling. He swallows and nods, glancing behind you, 

"Yeah I uhh, h-he likes to tell me that it's like that uhh, ya know, if someone bullies you, they like you-"

"So you're trying to tell me you've… been mean to me because you… like me?" You ask. He sighs and nods, 

"Yeah and now I feel fucking guilty about it. I just… I realized a while ago that you're pretty and smart and you don't have a care in the world and it's so different from me and I… I understand now why the world put us together. I need the balance." He explains, eyes finding yours. And you can tell he isn't lying. He feels warmth, feels comfort in your company, feels a buzz in his heart that is pure adoration for you. You crawl onto the floor with him, sitting at a distance as if you've crawled into a lion's den. Your mouth hangs open for a moment, shoulders coming up in a shrug,

"Wow, I didn't know." You let out breathlessly. He nods, 

"I know. And… I'm… sorry for the way I've treated you." He says with a sigh. After another moment sitting across from him, staring at the face you’ve been in love with, unknowingly, since you were ten, you crawl forward and lay your head over his shoulder warrily. He relaxes after another moment, laying his head against yours. You reach out and take his hand, his fingers falling around yours and squeezing. You sigh,

“I forgive you… if it’s any consolation.” You mutter. He hums, 

“You shouldn’t be so forgiving with me. I’ve been very rude to you.”

“Yeah but whether or not you were doesn’t matter. You’re my soulmate and that’s all that matters. That’s why I’ve given off those feelings within me that I didn’t care about all those other girls. It’s because I know that you’re my soulmate and whether you like it or not, I knew eventually you’d come around.” He purses his lips,

“That’s all you’ve wanted and I’ve let you down.” He says with another sigh,

“But now look at us.” You remark, drawing his eyes to yours with a finger under his chin. He hums, eyes cast down to your lips for a moment before he leans into kiss you softly,

“I am sorry. I promise I’ll try. I’m… I’m over having enemies outside of this fucking house and turning you into an enemy under my roof. I have… the opportunity sitting right in front of me to a good life, a family, and I just need to stop being such an ass. I just… I do wanna accept what you’re… offering as far as love goes.” He remarks softly, cheeks burning red. You giggle,

“You don’t have to be embarrassed admitting you want me to love you Tom.” You remind, rubbing his leg. He nods,

“I know but… it’ll be weird for the both of us, having to adapt to… doing things together and being together and… finally accepting being in love.” He admits. You nod,

“Definitely, but we’ve got this Tom. No one has to know if you’re that uncomfortable. But we can do it.” You reassure. He nods, glancing up for a moment before he licks his lips,

“I want to. I do want to and I want Harrison to know more than anyone.” He says with a chuckle. You smile, 

“After you apologize for breaking his nose.” You mutter. He chuckles again,

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” He admits before huffing and standing, holding his hands out for you. You stand, holding his hands tight in yours. He sighs, 

“I uhh, when we get seriously into this, I think we should… we should have a wedding. I like you in dresses.” He says. You smile, running your hands up his arms,

“Right, yeah, I know how you feel about girls in dresses Tom. But yeah… a wedding sounds really nice.” You admit, his eyes lighting up as a smile crosses his face,

“Anddddd…”

“Yeah, I know what happens after we actually get married. I think it could be a good time.”

“Me too.”

“Only because you like sex. Interesting idea to see you with a baby.” You mutter. He chuckles,

“I could be a good father.”

“I think that’s definitely something for the future. A wedding is more plausible than kids right about now.” You admit. He nods,

“That’s valid. Now… I gotta… go find Haz.” You nod,

“I’ll come with. Just because I’m worried about him.” He nods in return, holding your hand as he walks you towards the door. He swallows, glancing down at your hands, other hand resting on the doorknob. His eyes meet yours then, sparkling in thought before he nods and you know it’s him coming to terms with being dedicated to you. And for once, he’s actually excited to be your soulmate.

[nvvermore]

My Heart Had No Warning At All

Ophélie’s first masquerade is a daunting event [featuring @vissenta-senadz’s Lukas]

words: 1.5k

cw: none

accompaniment

—

No matter how many times she steps foot into the palace, Ophélie is always amazed.

Once upon a time, she’d sworn the opera house was the fanciest place she’d ever been to, or would ever be. But the opera house was put to shame by the grandiose of the palace on a normal day, and especially so today, now that it’s lavishly decorated for the masquerade tonight. If she weren’t so distracted by the shimmering silvers and golds, she’d probably be annoyed by such splendor.

It’s been months now since Amaryllis sought her out to perform at the masquerade. A truly unexpected offer, one that she’s still waiting to end up being an elaborate prank. But every few weeks Amaryllis would arrange for a rehearsal, making sure the compositions they were trusting her with were up to their—and surely the attendees of the masquerade— satisfaction. Surprisingly enough, Ophélie never seemed to disappoint the court musician. At least, not yet anyway. There was still tonight.

It’s quite early— too early with how late she was up tossing and turning last night— but the halls are already bustling with all sorts of staff and servants, rushing around to make sure everything is perfect. She feels even more exhausted just looking at them, and a little guilty, like she’s somehow gotten out of doing the hard work.

Ophélie wanders the halls, taking a longer way to the rehearsal room, wishing she could just push all this back just a little more. Logically, she knows she’ll be fine— thankfully, somehow, there’s not an ounce of stage fright in her— but such an atmosphere has a way of grating on her nerves.

Eventually, she turns the corner to a smaller, but completely empty hallway. Large windows frame the hall on either side, and the early morning sunlight streams through, illuminating the architecture and decor in the most beautiful way. Ophélie can't help but get lost in the sight, turning slowly as she walks along with her head raised to the ceiling. There's art up there, of all places, and she's never noticed it before now. She wonders how inconvenient it must have been to get it up there, and—

“Woah there!”

Suddenly, she’s crashing into something— someone— from behind. Strong hands fly to her shoulders to steady her, and she doesn’t even stop to breath before she's spinning around and apologizing.

“I am so sorry!” Ophélie looks up, and then up some more, because the man she's run into is quite tall. When she finally manages to make eye contact, she notices the blue of his eyes and the freckles dusting his cheeks and completely forgets what she planned to say next. “I um, forgot to watch where I was going.” It’s at least the truth, and she isn’t sure what to expect as a response, but it certainly isn’t laughter. Her face is warm, from a combination of embarrassment and his hands that are still on her skin. Curse the palace for making her so high strung.

“Forgot, huh?” he laughs, and quickly pulls his hands away, as if he’d forgotten. “I think I did the same thing. Been a long night.”

“Has it?” she feels compelled to ask. Though it's really none of her business and she has somewhere she needs to be. But he has such a warm smile, and she has time to linger for a moment or two.

“I work in the kitchens.” He gestures to the chef’s coat slung over his arm. “Busy week.”

“That's an understatement.”

He raises a brow. “You work here? Can't say I’ve seen you around before.”

“Oh, not really. I'm just a performer for tonight, that’s all,” she explains.

“‘That’s all’?” He laughs again, and this time it's not embarrassment that makes her feel hot. “And what do you perform?”

“I sing.” Ophélie pulls her eyes away from him so that she can get a glimpse at the grand clock across the hall. She can’t quite make out the exact time from here, but she can see the outline of the legs enough to realize she wandered for a lot longer than she originally thought. She’s been late for rehearsal for a while now. “Fuck,” she whispers to herself. “Speaking of, I really must be going.”

She slips past him, completely forgetting all of her manners, so frazzled by her tardiness, by the palace, by his handsome face.

“I'll see you from the crowd then,” he calls after her.

She turns, walking backwards again. “Perhaps I'll see you from the stage.”

- - -

The masquerade is overwhelming. And, all this time Amaryllis never really explained just how grand the stage Ophélie would be singing on was. The main stage, at the head of the main ballroom, where there's more people in the crowd than the opera could ever possibly fit. And to top everything off, she had to follow up Amaryllis’s performance. They certainly made sure Ophélie looked up to the task, from the shimmering pink gown they gifted her to the flowers they wove into her curls.

But she did it, perfectly. Honestly, she would be quite proud of herself, if it weren’t for all the anxiety she’d been repressing all day resurfacing. She’d like nothing more than to just go home right about now, but she’s already supposed to stay here, in a fancy guest suite, and surely Amaryllis will be around soon to congratulate her and introduce her to more fancy industry contacts.

So instead of making a run for it as soon as she’s off the stage, Ophélie takes a deep breath, and politely deals with the gathering of guests that await her with congratulations. There are several requests for a dance with her too, and she probably shouldn’t turn them down, but if her future in the arts hinges on pleasing rich socialites that badly, then she doesn’t really want one. She makes a beeline for the bar, deciding that one drink won’t hurt— she’s earned it after tonight and needs it if she’s going to stay any longer.

“So, ‘just a performer’, huh?” a familiar voice calls out from behind her. Ophélie expects one of the men who crowded her earlier, and wonders when Amaryllis will be here to rescue her. But when she turns around and glances upwards, she’s met with the same blue eyes from this morning, this time from behind a mask. She feels relieved that it’s him, even if she doesn’t actually know him any more than anyone else

“It’s you,” she smiles.

“It’s me.” He matches her smile, and for a moment neither of them make a move. She isn’t normally so, well, odd— at least she’d like to think so— but she’s still just a little suffocated by the ballroom, still coming down from the rush of the stage. He’s the one who makes the first move. “Would you like to dance?”

“Oh, I’m not a very good dancer,” she says, but it’s half-hearted compared to how she used it as an excuse earlier.

“You can’t possibly be worse than me.”

“Is that a challenge?” Ophélie laughs, and then considers it for only a moment. “I’d love to dance.” She holds out her gloved hand for him to take, and when he does she isn’t expecting him to kiss the back of it before pulling her in. His hand on her back is placed far higher than she’d like it to be, and her hand settles on his bicep. The hand in hers is warm, even through the silk of her glove, and she wishes the fabric weren’t in the way.

On the outskirts of the dance floor he leads her into a simple box step, and Ophélie finds she’s not struggling to keep up like she typically does. She always knows the steps, but doing them is often a whole different challenge.

It occurs to her that they’d never actually introduced themselves. “So, do I get to know your name?”

“Only if I get to know yours.”

“Ophélie.”

“Ophélie,” he says, soft and low, and oh she’d really like to hear him say it again. “I’m Lukas.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Lukas.”

“It was wonderful to hear you sing.” His is the first complement she’s gotten tonight that she actually believes.

“I’m glad you liked it.”

“Liked it? Your voice is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.” And that’s the first complement in a long time that’s managed to get her blushing.

“You’re just trying to flatter me.”

Lukas flashes her a smile. “Is it working?”

“Yes.”

Lukas spins her then, and when he brings her back in the hand at her back is now on her skin, thanks to the low cut of her gown.

“You know, I would have never pegged you as a diva. You certainly don’t act like one.”

“I try not to. At least, not around here anyway.”

“So you’ve got some of that diva attitude in you?”

“You’ll just have to find that out for yourself.”

[amberwild420]

one step back, two steps forward (pt. 13)

masterlist

liar, liar pants on fire

The day was beautiful. Warm sunlight penetrating the windows, birds chirping on the balcony rail.

 You know………the typical scene out of the shoujo manga. But unlike the typical scene of a sweet girl waking up at the sound of the birds, our sweet Parisian girls did wake up like that.

 In the Tom and Sabine bakery, Marinette woke up after Tikki had used “akuma” alert while on the other hand…………….

What is wrong with you?!

Kaylan groaned in pain glaring at the smiling woman above. Apparently Mama Veronica had pulled her rather forcefully, and woke her up with the bitter taste of pain.

 Oh good you’re awake. Breakfast will be ready in 10 minutes.

 Veronica smiled like a bright sun, ignoring her daughter’s pained and heated glare. Sighing, Kaylan had no choice but to wake up.

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

Just as Kaylan set foot in the class, the shrill loud cry of a certain lair made her grimace.

One peaceful day is too much to ask. Especially when you have to share same space as these brain dead people.

 Kaylan ignored the commotion and tried to get to her seat.

  Keyword: tried.

 Kaylan! You really are the lowest of the low!

 Kaylan looked at the blogger with droopy eyes. The scene looked comical, one was screaming like a market shrew and other looked like she would drop dead with exhaustion any moment.

 Please don’t tell me I just did something that Lila said I did.

 Kaylan said making Marinette snort as she sympathetically stared at her.

 To think you will go as far as to go to Lila’s house just to threaten her!

 Alya shouted at her making her sigh. Loudly.

 What time was it again?

 What?

 I said what time was it? Or have you never heard of ‘innocent until proven guilty?

 Are you trying to prove yourself innocent? Let me tell you Lila never…………

 AS I was saying, if you think yourself of a journalist…………….

 I am a journalist!

 Kaylan ignored the interruption like a pro and continued.

 ……………you must not blame anyone to be guilty after hearing one side of the story while ignoring the other. So what time did I supposedly came to her house?

 Alya gritted her teeth, trying not to explode. (Which is pretty much useless as she just exploded on Kaylan the moment she arrived.)

 At night of course! You thought that you could hide just because you hid the shadows! Ha!

 Kaylan looked blankly at the tabloid reporter. Yawning, she pulled something from her bag. Swallowing two tablets of painkiller, she turned towards the seething reporter who hated being ignored like air.

 How many witnesses do you have? Do you have a photo evidence? Or the record of the conversation or the ‘threat’ I issued to Lila? Did Miss Rossi saw me threatening to her daughter? How did I threat Lila? Did I used violence or did I just gave her a verbal threat? Why Lila didn’t called the police when I left after threatening to get a restraining order? Or to get me arrested for breaking and entering? Or did Lila opened the door herself? If she did then why did she opened the door for me, when it was clear as the daylight that I despise Lila? Did she had an ulterior motive as well?

 Kayla asked so many questions in just one breath. The whole class was silent for a moment. Alya wanted to say but stopped when she saw the look in Kaylan’s eyes.

 You say you’re a reporter. But all you have ever done is to write a tabloid. All the questions that I asked are the standard questions that a normal reporter or a police officer would ask.

 Kaylan turned to her seat before putting her head on Marinette’s shoulder and whining about having a migraine. Alya gritted her teeth but didn’t say anything. But she didn’t forgot to throw a glare at the pair.

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

As soon as Miss Bustier finished the lesson, she started her ideology once more.

 Marinette. How many times do I have to tell you to be a good example? Lila and Kaylan fight and you aren’t stopping them.

 Marinette frowned at her teacher’s words.

 When did they even fight? She might be ladybug but she isn’t a god to know every single thing that happened in this world.

 Miss Bustier, I have a question. When did Lila and I had a fight? As far as I remember, there was just a slight misunderstanding that got solved later on. What are you trying to say, I don’t get it?

 Kaylan gave sincere looking fake smile to her teacher who discreetly looked at Alya, baffled. The smile on Kaylan’s face turned more meaningful.

 Of fucking course, it has to Cesaire.

 Is Miss Bustier trying to say that we are so immature that we need Marinette to help us realize our mistakes or are we intellectually dead that we don’t understand what mistakes we have made?

 Kaylan fired again making the teacher flustered. Her eyes flashed with cold fury before it turned warm again.

 It seems like some people like make misunderstanding between people. I hope Miss Bustier can ignore it this time, don’t you think so Lila.

 Kaylan looked at the liar who flinched lightly. Kaylan’s threats came back to her mind.

 Ah, y-yes!

 See! Even Lila admits there was no fight then how can Miss Bustier say that. Are you underestimating us or are you overestimating Marinette?

 n-no I just…….

 Just what? Don’t tell me you are like those teachers who listen to gossip and use their authority and bully students?

 n-no, that’s not….!

 Or are you like those teachers who just enable bullying and think they are doing the right? I’m sure you’re none of them. Am I right Miss Bustier?

 Kaylan gave her a sunshine smile that made her drenched in cold sweat. For some reason, Bustier couldn’t control this girl like her other students. She was like a predator, meant to be on top of the food chain.

 Miss Bustier hurriedly greeted and left wiping sweat off her forehead. Kaylan gave a sweet smile to the dynamic duo who looked away, one more fearful than the other.

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

In the morning:

After so many days of brainstorming, Lila finally had an idea. Sure that girl was harder to grasp than that goody-good Marinette, but she finally had an idea.

 Just as she saw Alya entering the class, she let her tears fall before running and bumping into Alya.

 Lila…….!

 But Lila just ran away making the other girl chase her. By the time Alya got her, Lila started hiccupping.

 Lila what’s wrong!? What happened? Was it Marinette? I swear to god if she……

 No! It wasn’t her! It wasn’t Marinette. It was…..just…..

 Lila looked around before whispering to Alya. For a second, Alya blanked out before she walked away in rage. She didn’t see Lila smirking, neither did she saw Chloe hiding in the corner, turning off her recorder and walking away.

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

Waving at Marinette, Kaylan walked down the familiar path before she stopped and expectedly looked at the person hiding.

 Sighing, Chloe walked out.

 I can never sneak on you.

 You can try but…..it’s useless.

 Kaylan smiled before waiting for the blonde to say something.

 I thought about it.

 And…..?

 I want to ask you a favor.

 I had an idea you’ll agree so I already made the arrangements. Get you schedule and I’ll give a time that will work for both of you.

 Thank you.

 Kaylan smiled softly before patting her head.

 You should be proud of yourself. Not many can walk this far. I’m sure she’ll be proud as well.

 Chloe smiled a little before looking up in determination.

 I’m sure.

 Saying goodbye’s to each other, both girls walked away. One happy at her progress and other happy for the progress.

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[bellemorte180]

Just Good Business, Chapter Six: Epilogue

Caroline Salvatore, married into one of New York's most brutal crime families.

Niklaus Mikaelson, a notorious mob boss who is hell bent on taking down the Slavatores.

It's an affair for the ages.

Warning: Graphic descriptions of violence.

One Year Later

“Are you sure you’re ready to do this Gorgeous?” Enzo asked from the front seat. His dark eyes shown concern and Caroline could not help but smile at him. He knew the affect the strain of the last few months had on her and while it was far better than the life she had prior, the fall out of their schemes were not exactly a walk in the park. “You gave birth only a few months ago. Are you sure you don’t want to be home with Kol?”

Caroline smiled lightly at the thought of her son. Kol Niklaus Mikaelson came into the world screaming and wild. Even at four months old, Kol was untamable. He was sitting, scooting and just demanding attention. Klaus liked to joke as though it was his brother re-born while Caroline countered that while their son was named after his deceased uncle, that child was all Klaus. The baby even had the curly blonde hair already and his father’s dimples.

“Do you trust Bonnie so little?” She teased and Enzo rolled her eyes. Realizing that while she loved her son, Caroline wanted more of the world than to be just a mother. She started working at Klaus’s shell company and began heavily involved in his other businesses. Caroline found that she was really good at criminal activity; especially when it came to moving illegal substances across state lines and bringing them into the country. Her organization skills were impeccable and having grown up the daughter of the police chief, she knew how the NYPD operated.

However, that meant they needed someone to be stay with Kol when they could not. Klaus refused to hire just anyone. Interview after interview and yet they found no one. When Enzo mentioned that Bonnie had a degree in early childhood development before her sickle cell anima took root, they were intrigued. Caroline loved Bonnie immediately and Klaus could not tell her no.

Bonnie was funny, genuine and knew exactly what kind of work they were involved with; she had to since she was involved with Enzo. She was also strong. After a stem cell transplant, she seemed to be on the mend, much to Enzo’s relief. Bonnie started caring for Caroline during the end stages of her pregnancy and was with Kol during the day while his parents were at work; surrounding by bodyguards. Klaus was not about to risk his son’s safety. Only the best and most trusted guards were posted with Kol and Bonnie at all times.

“She loves that kid more than she loves me but I’m more worried about you. Are you sure you want to walk in there?” Enzo asked. In truth, Caroline was ready for this fiasco to be done and over with. When she walked out of her living room, leaving Stefan’s dead body behind; she did not know exactly what was to follow. The media circus and trial that followed were rough.

Stefan’s body was found the following morning. Police and FBI descended upon the home. Elijah happily turned over all the footage they collected from the cameras planted in their home; deleting the footage of Caroline. Adding in the fact that Elena’s body washed up on the shore of the Hudson River, it was easy to get a federal warrant to arrest Damon.

Damon was charged with two counts of first-degree murder and received a life sentence without the option of parole. While Alaric Saltzman was able to get Stefan out of jail due to the lack of evidence used against him for the murders of Meredith Fell and Elizabeth Forbes, there was video evidence of Damon committing Stefan’s murder and his confession to Elena’s.

But it just wasn’t enough. Not for Elijah and certainly not for Klaus.

As for Caroline, she was painted as a hero. The media portrayed her as an abused wife who turned informant for the FBI, feeding them information on her husband for months. There were photos of the beatings Caroline sustained at the hands of Stefan. They painted the story that she tried leaving multiple times but was unable to; held prisoner by Stefan. She learned of Stefan’s affair and the moment she was able to break free, she informed Damon of his wife’s infidelity. Her own affair was conveniently left out of the papers.

She, of course, had no idea that Damon would fly off the handle in such a manner.

The jury loved her. She was beautiful, sympathetic and heavily pregnant. It was reported that it was her testimony that caused the jury to come back with a guilty verdict in less than fifteen minutes. Damon was carted off and the Salvatore organization dismantled. Many of the criminals were on the run from Klaus’s vast network. It should have been over; but the pesky issue of Damon still being alive bothered both Elijah and Klaus. Despite the fact that Rebekah moved back to New York- they wanted anyone involved with their brother’s death stamped out.

Caroline suggested that they have him murdered in prison, but Klaus replied that it lacked finesse. They wanted to watch him die much like Caroline needed that closure when the life left Stefan’s eyes. She could not begrudge them; which was why Caroline was sitting in a black car in the middle of alleyway, in front of the same warehouse Enzo took her to meet Klaus the day she learned of her mother’s murder.

When Elijah realized that Damon was going to be transferred to a federal prison out of state, he easily arranged for that transport to be intercepted. “Yes.” Caroline took a deep breath and opened the car door. Once she was safely inside the warehouse, she looked over to see Enzo drive off. No need for him to escort her inside this time. She knew exactly what was waiting for her. She walked down the quiet vacant warehouse.

There was not much in the warehouse. Officially, Caroline learned that it was owned by the bank after a business went bankrupt. She knew, of course, that through several back channels that it belonged to Klaus and was used for some of his shadier business practices; like torture, body dismemberment and convincing a wife to betray her husband. However, Klaus currently was using the warehouse for storage of some old artifacts that were shipped in illegally from Europe. Caroline herself had overseen the shipment and was rather proud of the fact that the plan went smoothly. So, the warehouse was filled with crates, canvases and other priceless things that were to be sold on the black market. As she weaved through the mess that she was already mentally organizing, she began to hear voices.

“Tell me Damon, how does it feel to hit rock bottom?” Klaus’s voice sounded, echoing through the warehouse. Caroline rolled her eyes. While she loved Klaus and felt as though she was going to spend the rest of her mafia induced life with him, she could admit that he had the tendency to be a bit over dramatic.

“Fuck you.” Damon’s voice replied but it lacked the bravado that Caroline had come to associate with him. Damon always seemed confidant and in control; even if he seemed far too impulsive for her taste. Elena’s affair, the trail and everything that followed must have really destroyed him. Stefan was always Caroline’s monster and now that he was dead; she almost felt bad.

But she would never deny Klaus his need for revenge, especially when it came to Damon; who after all, was responsible for his brother’s murder.

“You’re not really my type.” Klaus replied in a smart tone. “That and I am happy to report that I am off the market. In a very serious relationship. Very committed.”

“Word of advice, I thought the same thing. Turns out my wife fucked my brother and look where that got me.” Damon replied and Caroline rolled her eyes again. If she was being honest, Caroline could not help but agree that in this matter. He did not ask to be cheated on. She could understand how that would rip someone’s heart out, especially when he loved Elena as much as he did. While Caroline did not see what Damon saw in Elena, she wasn’t completely heartless.

“I have no worries in that regard.” Klaus replied in a throw away tone. “Would you like to meet her? I think I hear her coming now.” Caroline looked down at her expensive high-heeled boots and cursed. The clicking the heel made as it hit the cement flooring didn’t even faze her; she had become so accustomed to the sound that she no longer heard it. “Sweetheart?”

Caroline sighed and walked around the massive amounts of crates and the pillar that was perched in the middle of the massive room. While the majority of the warehouse was pretty much dark but this particular section was slightly better lit due to the flimsy light swinging over Damon’s head. Damon was handcuffed to a metal chair and in a bright orange jumpsuit that did nothing for his complexion.

There were a few men standing behind him wearing FBI jackets that Caroline recognized as men who worked for Klaus. She had dealt with them from time to time over the last year and they seemed to be rather intimidated by her. She did not know if it was because she was with Klaus or good at her job; she liked to pretend it was the latter.

Across from Damon was Klaus, sitting in an identical chair but seemed far more relaxed. He wore a white button dress shirt and slacks; telling Caroline that he had come directly from the office. Elijah was standing over his shoulder, looking at Damon with unabashed hatred. The two brothers had been looking to this moment for well over two years. All their planning, patience and scheming was coming to fruition; Caroline did not even care that she was being used as a prop piece to rub salt into Damon’s already deep wound.

The look on Damon’s face was priceless. He seemed shocked at her appearance, his bright blue eyes widening and his jaw going slightly slacked. Caroline was sure that she was the last person he ever expected to see; let alone be with Klaus. However, his shock quickly dissipated, and Damon narrowed his eyes.

“I believe the two of you know each other well so introductions will not be necessary.” Klaus stated and Caroline held Damon’s gaze. Despite Klaus bravado, Caroline did enjoy seeing Damon’s fury. To drive the point home, Caroline walked over to Klaus, weaving her fingers through his hair and pulled his head back slightly. She leaned down and kissed Klaus on the lips. The kiss turned deep, passionate and long. When they broke apart, they both turned to look at Damon with hooded eyes. However, Damon seemed to have cooled his features.

“Don’t tell me that Klaus is going to be playing daddy to my niece or nephew.” Damon quipped and Klaus narrowed his eyes. The one things Elijah wanted to keep quiet during the trial was the fact that Caroline and Klaus were having an affair. Elijah felt that her testimony could be tainted and would be prejudice against her if discovered. Much to Klaus’s chagrin, they kept that news of their relationship quiet. The world saw a pregnant Caroline, assuming that the child she carried belonged to Stefan. Damon apparently was under the same impression; assuming she left Stefan because of the baby. “And here I was thinking of setting up a trust fund for the kid.”

“My son is none of your concern Damon.” Caroline replied in a sweet voice. “In fact, my son is not even related to you.” At first Damon appeared confused. It took a few seconds, but the truth dawned on him. His eyes flickering between the two of them with wild eyes. “There it is. I knew he would figure it out eventually.”

“No. Seriously?! Him?”

“For a good long while, actually.” Caroline replied. “All those times you and Stefan reveled your plans in front of me, I listened and went straight to Klaus. The sex was just a bonus.”

“I take it my brother did not know of this little…affair.” Damon replied. “He would have killed you the second he found out about it.”

“Remember how you beat Stefan to death?” Klaus asked and Damon froze at the mention of his crime. Caroline could see a hint of sadness in his eyes; almost as though he regretted killing his brother. Although, she would bet he regretted Elena’s death more. Even in the worst betrayal, he still loved her. “Well, Caroline and I watched it all.”

“The hidden cameras I take it?”

“Yes.” Caroline replied. She knew that Damon had a lapse of judgment the night he killed Stefan. He knew that Caroline got the footage of the numerous sex acts Stefan and Elena preformed from her home, but due to his anger; he didn’t consider the fact that the cameras would be on while he killed Stefan. He was too blinded by rage. “I watched you beat him. Then I needed him to know that it was me. That I was fucking Klaus right under his nose and that I was carrying his child. Then I sat down and watched him die.”

“Stefan must have really fucked you up Blondie if you jumped into bed with Klaus. Do you really think he will treat you any better? My advice, take the kid and run before he ruins you further.” Klaus jumped up and hit Damon across the face. The hit was hard enough that knocked a few teeth loose; blood splattering on the ground.

“Niklaus. Temper.” Elijah all but sang. However, his eyes never left Damon. Caroline learned that while Klaus ran hot, his temper flying in his extreme Machiavellian plans while Elijah was as cold as the artic. She honestly did not know which was more terrifying. Klaus reached down and gripped Damon’s chin. Klaus looked him in the eye, bending down to him.

“I may be a monster, but I would never lay a hand on Caroline in the manner your brother did. You did the entire world a favor when you took him out. I wanted to kill him myself, but Caroline wanted to watch him die slowly. You gave her that.”

“Much better than the Bundt-cake pan you and Elena picked out as our wedding gift.” Caroline teased. Klaus wasn’t laughing or finding the situation humorous. He was still staring down at Damon. Elijah called at his brother, but Klaus wasn’t budging. Caroline walked over to Klaus and touched his arm; pulling his hand from Damon’s jaw. “You can end this. Now. Put a bullet in his brain and let us go home to our son.”

“Look at you.” Damon replied, spitting more blood onto the ground. “Talking a man into murder. Never thought you were capable of it.” Damon toyed. “Then again, I never thought you were capable of anything really.” Klaus hit Damon across the face again and Caroline could see the blood trickle down his pale skin. “Always the dumb blonde who was shallow and useless.”

“Bite your tongue.”

“He is baiting you Niklaus.” Elijah chimed in. He walked around the chair. He looked down at Damon and placed his hand on Klaus’s chest. “Let me have a word with Mr. Salvatore. You said your piece. You dangled Caroline in front of him; showing him exactly how you bested him. You’re not the only one who has a matter to settle with him.”

Klaus nodded and let go Damon’s chin. Instead, he linked his hand with Caroline’s and pulled her to him. He kissed the top of her head. Caroline rested her head on Klaus’s chest while Elijah pulled the chair Klaus was sitting in closer to Damon. He sat down and looked at Damon deeply; his gaze never wavering. Caroline was seeing Elijah the agent, the man who rose high in the FBI.

“When Kol was fifteen he got a little too drunk one night. Decided to hot wire a car and drove around New York and as expected he got into a car accident. Killed a young woman. A secretary for some financial firm. He was arrested and facing being tried as an adult for vehicular manslaughter. I was a young man in the FBI then but had high connections. I got Kol out of trouble. Cleaned up his mess.”

“Is there a point to this little story?”

“Brothers do anything for one another. I would do anything for Kol as I would Niklaus or Rebekah.” Elijah drawled. “While I could never imagine the pain, you must have felt seeing Stefan and Elena together. When you love someone and they betray you, it feels unforgivable.” He cocked his head. “If Niklaus or Kol betrayed me in such a manner. I still do not think I would have the ability to do what you did to your brother.”

“Your point?”

“We are all monsters here. Kol was. I myself have committed treason, murder, espionage and all manner of sins that will condemn my soul. Niklaus runs the largest criminal organization this city has ever seen and has more blood on his hands than even you do. My little sister, who on an occasion has convinced multiple wealthy men to hand over their fortunes to her, is no innocent.” There was a smile that graced his lips when he spoke of Rebekah. “Caroline, while her hands are not as bloody as ours, she too has darkness in her. My family are filled with monsters but none of us ever betrayed each other. Stefan betrayed you but you committed the ultimate betrayal when you took his life.”

“Spare me the lecture, twiddle dumb. If you’re going to kill me, just do it because your yammering is driving me insane.” Damon bit out. Caroline cocked her head to the side. She eyed Damon; something was off with him. The way his shoulders sagged and there was no spark in his eyes. His smirk was off. His voice was off. Everything about his was wrong.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” Caroline asked. She moved away from Klaus and walked closer to Damon. Her eyes searched him, looking for some spark of humanity left; but she found nothing. While Stefan was a void of anything remotely good; beyond his feelings for Elena, Damon was the opposite. He put on a bravado but there were human emotions underneath it all. “You hate yourself. I should have seen it at the trial. You never spoke or defended yourself. You just sat there and let twelve people decide your fate. You didn’t even try. The Damon I knew would have blackmailed and bribed his way to freedom.”

“Get to the point Blondie.”

“You want to die.” Caroline said. “You want them to kill you.” Damon said nothing, unable to deny the truth. “You cannot live with yourself. You killed your own brother and your wife. You hate yourself for it. It’s why you did nothing to defend yourself or even try and find a way out of prison. The Damon I knew…. you’re not it.”

“You’re more perceptive than I gave you credit for.” Damon shook his head. “Kill me. You know you want to Caroline. I stood by and let Stefan beat you. How many times did he rape you? Because that is what it was, wasn’t it? You never wanted him. You laid for him because you had too. He told me that you fucked you the night he killed your mother. I laughed. I thought it was hilarious.”

Klaus attempted to lunge at him, but Elijah held him back.

“Brother, he is baiting you. I think Caroline has a point.”

“He wants us to kill him.” Klaus hissed. He thought about killing Damon since he found Kol’s body. His hate for the both of them only grew once his feelings for Caroline grew. “I say we give him what he wishes and send him to an unmarked grave to be forgotten.”

“No.” Caroline said; not tearing her eyes from him. “Let him live. Let him live everyday with the knowledge of what he did. Throw him in a cage and let him rot from the rest of his life. He does not deserve the mercy of an easy death. Kill him and he wins.”

“He knows to much Caroline. He could talk.” Elijah pointed out.

“Then cut out his tongue.” She turned to look at both Elijah and Klaus; both of whom looked at her like she lost her mind. “Cut out his tongue so he can’t speak. Mangle his hands so he cannot write. He will have nothing left beyond the memory of killing his brother and drowning his wife in the Hudson. He won’t be able to do anything else.”

Klaus stepped forward and looked at Caroline. His eyes held disbelief, wonder and lust all mixed into one. As though he couldn’t believe that she actually existed. After a moment, Klaus pulled Caroline to him and kissed her furiously. Not being able to help herself, she pressed her body into him. His hands roamed all over her body and she could feel the heat begin to pool between her legs.

“Niklaus. You’re getting distracted.” Elijah’s voice interrupted them.

“You’re a goddess.” Klaus stated as their lips broke apart, completely ignoring his brother. “I plan on rewarding you later.” That gleam and mischief were back, and Caroline could not help but giggle at seeing it. He pulled away from her and walked over to one of the crates. He picked up a crowbar that was leaning against a wooden crate. He wedged the crowbar underneath the lid of one and ripped it off. Sliding the slip end into a rusted nail, he pulled it from the wood. Turning towards the two agents, Klaus pointed at them. “Uncuff him and bring him to his knees.”

“Niklaus, what are you doing?” Elijah asked as the agents followed his brother’s command. Damon was uncuffed from his chair and fought the two agents, but they overpowered him easily. He was pushed down onto his knees.

“Following my girl’s command. What kind of lover would I be if I just ignored such a brilliant plan!” Klaus replied, an overexcited grin taking over his face. “Place his hand, palm up on the chair and hold him still.” The agents once again obeyed; forcing a Damon who was struggling to place his hand on the chair. Klaus walked up to him and placed the sharp end of the nail directly into his palm; digging in ever so slightly. He paused for a moment, raised the crowbar and brought it down onto the nail. The nail went directly into the palm of his hand; Damon screaming as he did so. Klaus repeated the action, over and over until Damon’s nailed was nailed to the chair.

“You’re probably going to give him tetanus using that nail.” Elijah stated, completely unfazed by the scene in front of him. Caroline winced slightly at every scream but didn’t look away. Damon was withering on his knees and appeared to be in extreme pain.

“Then he will have a very painful end.” Klaus replied. He slipped the split end of the crowbar into the nail again and leveraged it so it slid out of Damon’s hand. He repeated the action with another part of his hand before tossing the nail down to the ground. Klaus then brought the crowbar down onto Damon’s fingers with such force, Caroline could hear the bones cracking in his hand. “The other hand.”

Klaus repeated his actions, giving Damon’s other hand the exact same treatment. Once Klaus was done ruining Damon’s hands, Caroline knew that they would be no use to him anymore. No longer would he be able to write or hold the simplest of objects. They were completely mangled. The agents dropped him to the floor once Klaus tossed the crowbar to the side. Damon’s cries of pain turned into a whimper as he cradled his ruined hands to his chest.

“Are you done Niklaus?”

“Absolutely not. We still have the matter of his tongue to deal with.” Klaus stated, not caring that his white shirt now had blood spatters on it around the waistline. Caroline was already imaging how much bleach she would have to use to get the stains out; something he became very good at in the past few months. “Unless you would like to cut it out? I’m sure I can find some plyers in this place.”

Elijah sighed, contemplating and then took off his winter jacket. Caroline held out her hand and took the coat from him. He unbuttoned his suit jacket, slinging that over the other chair. Klaus, grinning like a maniac, pointed to one of the agents, commanding him to find him a set of plyers. Within minutes the agent returned and handed the pair of plyers to Elijah.

“Now, brother, while you take care of his tongue; I need to have word with my girl.” Klaus stated, pulling Elijah’s jacket from Caroline’s arms; tossing to lay with his suit jacket. “We will find you once you’ve completed the act. The lack of screams will be our signal.”

Klaus grabbed Caroline’s hand and pulled her away from the rest of the group. She looked over her shoulder to see Damon struggling in the agents’ arms while Elijah waited patiently for him to settle. They all fell out of sight when Klaus turned a corner and all Caroline could hear was Damon began to give a throaty scream. Klaus weaved them through crates of wooden boxes that Caroline was mentally taking inventory of; something she was going to actually be doing with in the coming weeks.

“Where are we going?”

“Through here.” Klaus pointed through a small opening in a cluster of crates and pulled her through. He turned to face her and immediately pulled her into a kiss. It was heated and passionate. Caroline pressed her body to his and she could feel his erection pressing into her stomach. She bit her lip and tried to not grin. “You are a goddess. That mind of yours, it is a wonder.”

“Well, it is my best feature.” She teased, blocking out Damon’s screams that echoed throughout the warehouse. Klaus allowed his hands to roam over her body and he gripped her behind, squeezing her buttocks; causing Caroline to squeal. “Klaus!”

“It was what made me fall in love with you.” He leaned down and kissed her again. Caroline wrapped her arms around his shoulders. His hands moved towards her winter coat and unbuttoned it. He pushed it off her shoulders and let it hit the ground. “Watching you order the mutilation of my enemy, it does things to me that I cannot explain. All I wanted to do was please you and then fuck you.”

“Then do it.” Klaus took her shoulders, turning her around and pushing her up against the wooden crates. Caroline braced herself, palms resting against the wood. He palmed her breasts through her shirt and pressed his clothed erection into her behind. He pressed his nose into her hair, inhaled before biting her ear. “Klaus.”

“You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.” Klaus whispered in her air. His hand snuck his way under her shirt as his lips descended upon her neck. His free hand gripped her blonde hair and pulled her head to the side, giving him more access to her pulse point. His tongue peeked out and dragged it up the side of her neck. “Even after the last year and a half together, having Kol and you just being by my side, is not enough for me.”

“I’m yours.” Caroline breathed out in a throaty moan. Klaus pinched Caroline’s nipple through her bra causing her to hiss; pressing her behind into his erection harder. He groaned into her ear, thrusting his hips forward. “What did you like more? When I figured out that he wanted to die or when I told you to cut out his tongue.”

“Both.” Klaus hissed. His hand snaked down her abdomen to the top of her pants. He unbuttoned them, pulled down the zipper and yanked the pants down to her ankles. Caroline spread her legs enough to give Klaus access to her center. He ran his across her center, causing her to moan in delight. “Wet for me already. Tell me love, did you enjoy bossing me around? Commanding me, bending me to your will?” Klaus twirled the bundle of nerves on her clit while biting her neck. “Answer me.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“I enjoyed it.” She whimpered. She reached behind her and palmed him through his pants. Klaus groaned at the contact, whispering her name in her ear. “I enjoyed taking control. I enjoyed seeing you in your element, hurting him. Hurting him because I told you to. I enjoyed the power I had but do you know what else I enjoy?” Caroline asked, causing Klaus to hum in her ear; his fingers still rubbing her clit. “I enjoy it when you fuck me. I enjoy it when you’re inside me and all I can feel is you, thrusting and pulsing until I fall apart.”

Not being able to take her teasing any longer, Klaus pulled at his belt buckle and pushed his pants down. He aligned himself with Caroline’s entrance, coating himself in her juices and pushed inside of her. They both cried out at the feel of them together. Slowly, Klaus withdrew before pushing back in. Over and over, Klaus thrusted into her.

Caroline’s screams echoed off the walls. Neither could hear the screaming occurring at the other end of the warehouse. They were so involved with their lovemaking that nothing else occurred to them. The sound of their skin slapping together, and their moans only caused Klaus to move faster. He grasped her hair and pulled her head back. Feeling the pull of her hair was enough to send Caroline over the edge.

Her orgasm rippled through her body; screaming Klaus’s name as she came. He continued to thrust into her while she fell over the edge. Knowing that Klaus was not near his peak yet, Caroline smirked. She pushed off the crate and Klaus, taken off guard, stumbled ever so slightly, slipping out of her as he went. Caroline turned and pushed him gently, causing his back to hit the crates on the other side of the wall.

Caroline grabbed his head and pulled him into a deep kiss; her nails trailing a small trail down his chest. Her kiss traveled from his lips to his jaw and then down his neck. She kissed his chest until he sunk down to his chest until she was on her knees. She was eye level with his penis and gave his one long lick.

“Christ Caroline.” Klaus hissed out, weaving his fingers through her hair. Caroline took Klaus into her mouth and began to bob up and down. She massaged his balls and Klaus’s fingernails dug into her scalp. His eyes rolled back into his head. It wasn’t long before Klaus found himself spilling into her throat; Caroline drinking it all. After she licked his penis one last time, Caroline stood and kissed Klaus on the lips, letting him taste their juices mixed together on her lips.

“If the two of you are done, Mr. Salvatore is being loaded up and transported to receive medical attention.” Klaus groaned in frustration. Caroline, blushing, bent down and pulled up her pants. Klaus tucked himself into his pants and picked up Caroline’s coat. He put it on her shoulders and kissed her forehead. They linked their hands together and they walked around the crates. Elijah was standing there, cleaning his hands of blood; ignoring the fact that his shirt was covered in it.

“I’m assuming that Damon Salvatore has become mute?” Klaus asked, appearing extremely pleased. She did not know if it was because he just won a war or the fact that he just got laid. Either way, Klaus was having a very good night.

“Yes. It was not exactly pleasant.”

“Oh, don’t be that way Elijah. You enjoyed it.”

“Let us leave. I have work in the morning.” Elijah replied and Caroline smiled. She was ready to go home. Tonight, put an end to a very long nightmare and Caroline felt as though they finally could get on with their lives. In that moment, all she wanted to do was go home to her son.

“Yes. Let’s go home.” Caroline smiled widely pulling on Klaus’s hand. “I want to see our son.”

[youremeimyou]

The Bet(pt.1)

Part 1 - Part 2

pairing: Kim Taehyung x Reader genre: Some fluff, little bit of angst word count: 5k warnings: alcohol consumption

Description: Taehyung and Y/N have managed to form a strong bond over their years of college. According to their friends, the chemistry between the two is undeniable. But the duo would rather not risk the close friendship. The very friendship that’ll be put to test by the boldest of bets, it seems.

A/N: Okay guys I’m new to this publishing my fics thing and this is the first one I wrote with the intention of posting here. I hope you bare with me and I hope you like the story. Enjoy!

The night started out pretty normal. Except for the fact that it was extra chilly for a night in summer. But Y/N didn’t mind the cold. She preferred it to a sweltry weather.  She pulled down her face mask a little and breathed in deeply, enjoying the warm summer breeze. Right after putting it back on she pulled out her cellphone and decided to check her texts to see if she read the arranged time correctly. This would be the third time since leaving the house.  

Y/N: I can make my own way there.

Tae: You don’t even now where we’re going lol.

Y/N: If you tell me I’ll know and then I can make my own way there.

Tae: I can see your know it all smile while typing that text.

Y/N: I can see you rolling your eyes over it haha.

Tae: Whatev. Even I don’t know where we’re going yet so just be ready at 9:15 tonight?

Y/N: Fine, got it. Don’t you be late.

Tae: Never am.

Y/N: Lying’s a sin you know.

Tae: Too busy, can’t talk, bye now.

Y/N: Tch…

The first two times she checked the texts were to make sure she herself saw it right. This was something she always did when meeting up with people. The reason was still unknown to her. But this time she did it because the clock on the billboard across the road already stroke 9.30 and she was still waiting for a jerk who promised to pick her up fifteeen minutes ago. Pissed, she decided to call this jerk and went into contacts. Just as she was about to hit ‘call’ a car going at full speed made a rough stop in front of her. The door opened from the inside revealing a pretty puppy with the cutest eyes. Or rather, a jerk perfectly pulling puppy eyes knowing he’s guilty.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry?” he said while she got in the car. She snorted out and asked “Why?” not looking at him. But before letting him continue she added,

“I mean it’s really my fault for coming here at the right time even though I knew you’d be late”

Taehyung smirked, “Well that’s kinda true.” Saying that earned him a smack on the arm. They were both laughing but his expression turned to worry when he realized Y/N was wearing a sleeveless shirt. Reaching for something in the back he asked,

“Seriously though, were you cold? Don’t you have a coat? It’s kinda chilly tonight.”

“It’s summer and I’m not lame, so no. But I guess you are lame Tae.” She spat back taking the coat he was offering her and throwing it back to the back seat. “Right then, don’t wanna be late for the party!” Taehyung started speeding up, knowing Y/N had no problem going fast and the roads were pretty empty.

“So you do know where we’re going.” 

“I didn’t know the exact location when we texted. They sent me the info just a few hours ago.” He looked at her somewhat blank face and said

“Hey be more excited, we’re going to a secret party!”

“Are you taking me to a rave? ‘Cause the last time was a mess."

“Well this time -because it’s a secret party- a limited number of people will be there. Plus, they’re mostly foreingers so they won’t know us and it’s fine even if we do mess up big time.”

Y/N could hear the excitement in his voice. She could tell he made an effort planning this out. And the fact that they could have fun without worrying about being watched got her excited also. Even though they were really close friends and frequently saw each other in classes, in the library, at pubs and such since freshman year, the amount of time they could spend just the two of them were limited due to common friends they had that just loved the idea of them ‘being together’ and ‘dating’. 

Neither of them were comfortable with that because neither have ever dared to think of such a situation, afraid that it might harm the friendship. So when an opportunity to meet up like this appeared they usually did laid back stuff in order to prevent their friends from going crazy over them doing something ‘alone’. 

But this time Y/N was glad they didn’t have to worry about that. She kinda needed partying hard after studying for unreasonable amounts of time for the finals. Fuck my brain that took an IQ test at a child age and made my parents think I was cut out to be something she thought at times like this. It was hard being expected to do well all the time and Taehyung could always tell when she needed some time off to get away from all the pressure. That’s why he went through all that trouble of arranging their crazy hangouts.

Taehyung pulled the car in front of a very nice looking building. This definitely didn’t look like a place where raves were held. And it was quite too.

“Are you sure we’re in the right place Tae?” Taehyung took her by the arm and led her to the back door.

“I told you it was a secret party. And your IQ is supposed to be really high or something.” he joked. 

“I don’t give a shit about my IQ and you know it” she said through gritted teeth. 

They stopped in front of the plain looking door and Taehyung pulled out two pieces of paper which Y/N guessed to be tickets and slided them under the door. A few seconds later it opened and a huge man welcomed them, he was probably a security guard. Perks of being a campus fuckboy, popular amongst the rich girls Y/N thought, kinda proud of him in a weird way. They passed a small corridor and went through another door. That’s when they started hearing the music. Okay so this place is soundproof, WOW. 

Once they were inside, Taehyung turned to Y/N and asked “What do you think?”

“I think you should buy the first drinks.” 

“My pleasure princess.” He took another smack to the arm due to Y/N ‘s annoyance of the nickname. They made their way to the bar and Taehyung ordered. 

“I gotta admit Tae, that entrance... It looked like a scene form a movie just then.” Taehyung had leaned onto her a little to hear what she was saying and that made him realise she smelled really nice. Discarding her last comment, he leaned in even more to speak in her ear.

“So, we’re making a bet or what?” This made her giggle.

“What’s the point when you always lose?

“I never lose!”

“Oh please, look at you, a sour loser even before making the bet!” she said taunting him.

Y/N really liked this comfortable bickering. Her sarcastic personality was usually misunderstood by people. Taehyung having no problem playing along was one of the reasons they were close. And this went both ways actually. A good example would be Taehyung’s next words. Which were,

“The bet is for you to not fall for me tonight. And I’m betting against it.”

Y/N  would admit to being taken aback just a little. But Taehyung being playful and teasing was nothing new. So she decided to follow along. And maybe to turn the tables even. Since she’s been wanting to get her hands on one of his belongings recently.                 

“So you really wanna lose that motorcycle of yours, huh?”                 

Hearing this left Taehyung in a bit of a shock because of how unfazed she was by the cocky bet he blurted out. Shock was soon replaced by two kinds of emotions he felt deeply. He felt his heart flatter at how close they must be for her to be completely unbothered. But at the same time there was a slight strain on his chest. Some type of dissapointment flowed through his body. He opened his mouth to say something but quickly closed it afterwards. Instead he shook his head and let out a “hmph” while smiling. At that moment the bartender cut in, delivering their orders.                 

Taehyung turned to him and said a quick thanks. Then immediately went for a sip of his drink, hoping it would take that strain on his chest away. Little did he know Y/N  wasn’t completely unbothered. 

The little sip he intented turned into him gulping down the whole thing so he waved the bartender for another one. Meanwhile Y/N was also enjoying the bourbon. Internally thanking Taehyung for knowing her taste in drinks. After a few moments of silence, she tilted her head and asked “So, does it have a name or should I start thinking of one?” A mischevous smile was appearent on her face as she did. Knowing she was talking about his motorcycle Taehyung replied,

“You know you’re not getting my bike right?”

“And why’s that?”                                   

“It’s dangerous dummy.” His voice wasn’t snarky or condecending. It was just.. caring.

“Then why do you own it?” She pulled a know it all smile. And despite not facing her, Taehyung could just tell that she did.           

“I never really ride it.” he said as he shruged.

“That’s right you never really do. And that’s so unfair to such a beautiful vehicle.”         

“I’m starting to think you’ve got the hots for my motorbike.”                                   

“Well, let’s just say I’ve had my eyes on it for a while.”                                           

“Fine!” he suddenly said and turned to face her. “It doesn’t matter since there’s no way you’ll win.”

He didn’t know if the sudden boost of confidence came from the alcohol but he appreciated it nonetheless. Even though he knew how competitive she was and the odds of him winning weren’t looking so good to him, he still went ahead and winked. 

“Wanna know what I want as my prize?” All she did was raise her eyebrows in anticipation. He turned away from her, facing the bar once again. 

“Not much really. Just bragging rights for the whole of eternity.”             

“That’s it? Tch.. I’m not even the least bit worried.” she said, immediately regretting speaking at all. Because she sounded like quite the opposite. She thought she turned the tables around bringing up his motorcycle but damn.. Looking at his smirk right now, was she feeling.. nervous?                   

Taehyung chuckled and it eased the tention they were both feeling a bit. At least for the time being. He asked,

“Now that that’s settled, how ‘bout we go nuts on the dancefloor?”       

“Bottoms up first!”

They gulped down the rest of their drinks. Taehyung bent down just a little in front of her. And she hopped on his back without question. Laughing their asses off, they made their way to the dancefloor. And Y/N knew that’s where the magic happens. The magic of Taehyung that is. 

Kim Taehyung was good at a lot of things. He had his grades up, he was an excellent shooting guard, he was a social butterfly that attracted all girls and boys, he was mature yet funny and always knew what to say. And his personality was always shinning through so Y/N learned about most of these quailities at an early stage of the friendship. But there was one thing she never thought he'd be this good at. That thing was dancing. 

She learned how good he was the hard way. In times of freshman year, when they would go to a club with a group of friends and everyone got tipsy, they would find themselves at the center of the dancefloor thinking that they were dancing. Y/N was especially not very good. She would flop around, jump up and down and it was mostly a mess. Their other friends weren't that different either so needless to say it didn't usually look pretty. But it was fun all the same so Taehyung thought he would go with the flow and embarress himself along his friends so he pretended to have two left feet.

Until one day, while getting another round of drinks Y/N caught him dancing masterfully. Well, more importantly he was dancing masterfully next to a beautiful girl. So it takes a hottie to get the beast out of him. She saw him through the crowd gathered around to watch them. The girl barely did anything other than swaying a bit but Taehyung was enough to get the attention of the whole room.

After that night Y/N witnessed him get girls to go home with him through that trick many times. And right now they were about to go center stage so she braced for the worst. Which for her would be their night coming to an early end because of the same trick. Something about tonight made Y/N more sore than normal about what could be coming. So she turned to Taehyung, got very close to him and spoke with a low voice just in his ear.

"Teach me."

Taehyung chuckled.

"I'm serious. I don't want to see you play your tricks on the pretty girls here while I embarress myself tonight." Even though she did sound a little like she was actually bothered, Taehyung didn't think much of it. He knew they were both comfortable with 'embarressing' themselves in front of others.

"You're right. I shouldn't make this about me, tonight's our fun night out. Let's just throw each other around and annoy people, that's more fun." He said while smiling sincerely.

“No. Tonight you lead and I'll follow". She sounded dead serious. Tonight I wanna feel like those pretty girls. She couldn't believe what she was thinking but there it was, she was thinking it.

Taehyung didn't know what to do and couldn't utter a word for a few seconds. When she put her arms around his shoulders and started moving though, he snapped out of it. A hiphop song with a low, groovy kind of beat was playing. Taehyung followed orders. He put his hands on her sides and started to lead her with basic moves. But soon he couldn't believe his eyes when he saw Y/N moving like never before. Was the volume being turned down or what? Also where were all the other people 'cause goddamn he could swear it was just the two of them at that moment.

"And you gave me shit for pretending to be a bad dancer for days. Look who's lying and decieving now?" Taehyung faked a hurt sigh. Y/N's lips curved up a little at that. "I never pretended. I just never had anyone to show me how to do this."

"Better me than some other guy." Taehyung mentally slapped himself for actually saying that out loud. Y/N just looked at him with a questioning smirk. "Well, uhh... It's 'cause I'm very good, you know. We wouldn't want you to learn it the wrong way." Another mental slap for not sounding remotely as convincing as he would've liked.

If only Y/N could focus on something other than her racing heart, she could see the slight pink of Taehyung's cheeks. It was silent on the outside between them, they didn't speak. On the inside though, it was like beating of drums. Both prayed the other wouldn't  realise. Music changed, neither noticed. But it wasn't like those blissfull moments of silence in the movies. It was like when they looked in each other's eyes, everything they've surpassed surfaced. There was tension and suspence. Chemistry..check, attraction..check, even butterflies were there.

It was starting to become unbearable for Y/N. Jumpiness got the best of her and she suddenly made an awkward turning move that almost landed her butt on the ground. Quick reflexes allowed Taehyung to catch her just before that. Thanks to her little stunt, the heavy atmosphere dissolved into both of them giggling and relaxing. They took a step back to gain some distance in between. 

Taehyung was glad he could feel his senses again which by the way made him realize that he made a lot of effort for the last couple of minutes. He found it to be weird. 'Cause he'd admit, he wasn't all muscles but he was in shape enough to dance around. In fact he did dance around with other girls all the time. He tried not to think about what made it different this time.

"Thanks to you, now I'm all thirsty."

Awkward silence.

Only for a brief moment, though. Soon, it was replaced by their hysteric laughter. So Taehyung continued speaking. "Not thirsty like thirsty but like actually, uhh you know, thirsty. You get it.. right?"

Another round of laughing uncontrollably.

"So.. naturally, I'm just gonna go buy a drink."

"Naturally!" Y/N quickly spat, all the while giggling. Taehyung let out a defeated sigh, sensing that she wouldn't let this be forgotten anytime soon. "Do you also want one?" Y/N on the other hand started to love the feeling of actually being able to dance. "You go ahead. I'm just gonna enjoy this before whatever spell you casted for me to not make a fool of myself fades away." Taehyung replied with a boxy grin and went straight to the bar.

Y/N was feeling herself now. The music currently playing was more of an upbeat one. But it wasn't so fast that she couldn't keep up. So she let down her hair and started to shake her head around slowly. She thought it was ridiculous but she felt like she was.. 'hot' at that moment. A smile spread across her face. It seemed like she wasn't the only one thinking that because a blondie with a snapback hat was approching her. He danced his way to her side. When she didn't notice him he made his presence known by slowly tapping on her shoulder. She was surprised when their gazes met.

"Jackson! What are you doing here?" She gave him a quick side hug. Y/N had a lot of common classes with Jackson since college started. They were lab partners and project buddies most of the time. All and all good friends.

"You know I wouldn't miss a fancy party at a fancy secret location."

She laughed. "Yeah.. This 'hunt for a mating' party is so you."

"Ouch.. Well you're the one to talk, also being here and all."

"Hey, I was dragged here."

"You don't exactly look like you're bored, dancing crazy at center stage. I thought you always said you weren't able to. But now you have most guys here staring you down."

"Yeah right."

"It's true! I came to defend you from possible unwanted interactions."

His little squaring up act made her laugh out loud. "I'm not alone no worries. Taehyung's here. He just went over to the bar."

"Ha. So he's the one teaching you moves. Well let's see what've you got 'till he gets back."

Meanwhile Taehyung was done with his drink and ready to get back out there. He was going up to the dancefloor when his eyes caught the sight of Y/N and Jackson dancing. He stopped dead in his tracks. Jackson was another dancing machine and Taehyung knew. He was aslo the captain of the lacross team. And the most wanted guy on campus. 

Taehyung saw him easily lead Y/N. Moving around with smiles on their faces. He wondered if Y/N ever felt what he was feeling at the moment when she saw him doing the same with different girls. He went to them and purposefully interrupted. "You're here too huh?" he said to Jackson. "I'm guessing you've got the tickets from Jessie?"

"From Cho. She's rich at a filthier level than even Jessie, man."

Taehyung turned to Y/N, not acknowledging his words. "How are you not tired? Take it easy, I don't want you to say you're sleepy so early in the night."

"Fine, it's my turn to go for a drink anyways. How about you Jackson?"

"I think Jackson has a line of people waiting for some of his attention." Taehyung said, pointing to the said line with his head.

"Yeap, time is of essence while I pick the best of them, you know." Jackson said with a smirk.

Y/N put on a fake face of disgust. "You're a pig."

"But a likeable pig, right?"

"Go before I punch your face."

"Okay okay I'm going. I need my beautiful face." He joked while walking away.

Taehyung followed Y/N to the bar. Then, he followed her to the sitting area at the corner. They plumped down on the white futon and Y/N took a sip of her drink and started watching the people on the dancefloor. Taehyung was watching the floor itself instead. They got their heads closer when Y/N started to speak. "I thought you said everybody here would be foreigners. Thought you said they wouldn't know us." She joked around.

"I didn't know Cho knew about the party and even had tickets. I also have no idea how Jackson got her to give 'em to him."

"Really? 'Cause I can think of a couple of things he could've done." Y/N implied with a smirk. Taehyung could too. But it annoyed him to be talking about it.

"Yeah? Do you think about it often, then?"

Y/N burrowed her eyebrows. "What?"

"You guys get along well enough. Do you like him?"

Y/N was really confused because Taehyung looked very serious. It didn't feel like joking around. "He's a good friend and a classmate so.. yeah?"

"Would you date him is what I'm asking Y/N." Taehyung said when he finally removed his eyes from the floor and faced her.

"What are you- why?"

"He's a fuckboy."

"And you're not?" Y/N was quick to reply. She didn't understand what he was trying to do. Jackson wasn't only her friend but he was Taehyung's too. So it didn't make sense why he would discredit him like that. Yes, Jackson in fact was a fuckboy but he wasn't a bad guy. On the contrary he was a good friend to both of them. And Taehyung had his share of girls he fooled around with too.

"I'm just saying. I may be the same when it comes to sleeping around. But I at least try not to frequently break hearts."

"That sounds so wrong Taehyung."

"No it's not like- look, I know that sounded shitty but what I mean is I don't mess around with my friends." He gained another eyeing from her before he could continue. "I'm trying to say that I'm careful and respectful with people I call friends. If I felt attracted to them or even had feelings for them, I wouldn't want to harm something important so I'd be different." He paused for a second and faced the floor again. "I like the guy but I couldn't say the same thing about him, sorry."

This was true. Jackson sometimes couldn't balance his relationships. Y/N knew him to have broken some of her friends' hearts like that. Even if it was unintentionally. But she's never witnessed Taehyung 'sleeping around' with people he considered friends. Taehyung alwalys made his intentions clear when it came to it. Y/N liked Jackson a lot too. Even admired him. But she knew she wasn't planning on dating him anytime soon.

"Okay I get you. And no Tae. I said he's my friend and that's that." The tenseness faded away after she said that. "What's gotten your panties up in a bunch anyway?" she gave a slight push on his arm with her shoulder. "Nothing~" his eyes were still fixed down. She kept nagging him until he gave in.

"What? I said nothing! I care about you, sue me."

Y/N couldn't help but smile softly. He was too cute to handle sometimes. Well, mostly.

After some time passed and Y/N finished her drink, a song they both loved started playing. They immediately looked at each other with smiles.

"Alright, that's our queue! Let's dance a bit more and then move on to our next location?"

"Only if the next stop is somewhere we can stuff our faces with food."

"Oh, you're gonna love what I've got in mind. I found a diner that serves breakfast at night."

"What?! Can't we just go right now?"

"But Y/N~ the song.." Taehyung wined. Y/N giggled to the sight of him pulling puppy eyes.

"Okay fine, move your ass."

Once again they were going off on the dancefloor and it was electric. Putting aside everything else and having geniune fun was a rare feeling. School, part-time jobs, relationship problems, family issues didn't matter for that moment. They were glad they had each other. Both of them knew, what they had was so unique and geniune, a bond that's somehow irreplaceable.

The song that got them there ended. And a slow tune began to play. Just in time too because both were worn out by this point.

"Phew.. That was super fun, wow. Now let's get outta here."

"Wait! This song's also great. Let's stay a bit more." Taehyung was somewhere on the thin line between tipsy and wholeass drunk. He wanted this slow song to be a chance to slow dance.

"But we said breakfast at night~"

"After this one. C'mon~" He held the sides of Y/N's arm, not letting her escape.

"Fine.. It'll be a breather anyway." With that Y/N wrapped her arms around Taehyung's neck. She also had enough alcohol in her system to not care or overthink things.

They were barely moving. Swinging just a bit from one side to the other. The space between nearly non-existant. And it was hot. Y/N couldn't tell if it was because of the movement they were doing minutes ago. Taehyung knew it wasn't. He could feel her breath on his neck. That was his reason to be blushing in secret. Another reason was one of her hands was slightly pulling the tips of his hair on the back of his head. He couldn't see her face but her eyes were closed. Then the song changed. Y/N pulled away just a bit to face Taehyung.

"Ready to go now?"

"What about the bet?"

Y/N blinked nervously. And faked a little laugh.

"Tae, you can keep the bike-"

"What would happen if I kissed you right now?"

Silence. Gulping. And silence again. Until Y/N broke it.

"Umm.. I think.. well, it would be kinda understandable."

Pause. Because yeah, the atmosphere could totally lead there.

"And it would probably feel... good. Maybe very good?"

"Probably very good." Taehyung said as he started closing the distance between their faces. Until Y/N started talking again.

"But-"

Another pause.

"It would never be the same again."

None of them talked or even moved for a good 30 seconds.

"You're right." Taehyung let out a long held breath and started backing up.

"Tae-"

"Aren't we starving? We're starving. Let's go."

"Okay." Y/N sighed in defeat. "I'll just make a quick trip to the bathroom. Meet you outside?"

"Yeah.." He whispered and watched her walk away.

As Taehyung was waiting in front of the door at the back for Y/N, a lot of other people were gathered there. Some were also getting ready to leave, some were having a smoke and so on. Taehyung was standing close to the door with his back leaned against the wall. It was a lot more chilly then when they arrived so he had his hands in the pockets of his blue jacket. Then he remembered Y/N didn't have any jacket with her and she was wearing sleeveless. He made a mental note to pass the jacket to her when she came back from the toilet.

He didn't even notice the girl with purple highlights and very expensive high-heels coming his way.

"I knew you wouldn't leave this place with the same girl you came with tonight. So.. is it one of the Japanese girls or the Ukrainian that everybody was after."

"I came with Y/N. And I'm leaving with Y/N. I did conclude from that sentence that you paid a lot of attention to girls tonight though, Jessica?"

First she was taken aback. Then she replied with a carefree attitude.

"I gotta know the competition don't I?"

"Speaking of which, I think I spotted Cho, too. Guess she has wide network. Maybe your throne's shaking?"

Taehyung wouldn't usually be this annoying to Jessie. But he couldn't just be a ray of sunshine right now.

"Just be grateful you know me and enjoy this favour. Don't worry about who runs our school, babe."

"I wasn't. Cuz we're not in highschool. And I'm not your babe."

Okay, that was more than a little harsh. Jessie glared at him, not understanding why he was being an asshole. Soon after that she walked away. Taehyung felt a little bad but he really wasn't feeling like conversing right now. He just felt, so... rejected. Even though he knew Y/N was right to be hesitant. He decided to blame it on the alcohol.

A few minutes later, Y/N came out the door. Trying to avoid the crowd right up ahead, she made a quick turn to the left, immediately bumping into Taehyung's chest.

"Sorry, I-" she was holding her head in her hands.

"You okay? Are you dizzy? I can drop you home if-"

"No way! We're going to that diner. I'm starved."

Taehyung took out his jacket and handed it to her as he questioned one more time.

"Are you sure? Cuz we had lots to drink and-"

"You know I don't get drunk. I just bumped my head and stumbled a little. If anything, it's your fault for having a hardrock chest."

Taehyung let out a giggle. His mood slowly turning back to normal then total grimace.

Y/N's arms were completely lost in the long sleeves of his jacket. She loved the warmness of it, though. And the sweet scent of its owner permeated on it.

"You know, boys buy black leather jackets to impress girls. This one's not gonna get you far." she teased him. Taehyung just looked at her as she got in the car. What if the one girl I'm trying to impress happens to love blue?

The trip to the diner was quick but silent. When they got inside Taehyung went to choose a table. Y/N immediately went to order. It took quite some time as she named and named and named all the things she wanted to have. Then, she took the librety of ordering for Taehyung as well. Meanwhile Taehyung had settled on a cozy booth. Y/N made her way to him with coffee on both hands and offered him a smile as she handed him his cup.

There was another round of silence. Thank god the food came quickly. They both dug in. It was like they weren't even breathing for the first fifteen minutes. After that the atmosphere became lighter.

"Tae, I feel like I should say something. Because I really didn-"

"You don't have to say anything, Y/N."

"But- I think I-"

"It was just impulses I guess. Oh and the bet thing. You know I'm a sore loser so I guess I let it get into my head."

Taehyung wasn't even letting Y/N speak. He was just condemning this whole thing on himself and trying to put it behind in a rush. Even though Y/N didn't know exactly what to say, she wanted to say something. Because it wasn't just him, no. She was to blame to. But he said it. It was the bet, just impulses.. And she sure didn't hope for anything else, right?

"I really did enjoy tonight. And this diner.. safe to say we'll be re-visiting soon. Thanks for bringing me." Her voice was sincere. She didn't want to be awkward with him. She couldn't handle that.

"I'm glad you came." He couldn’t handle that either.

Author's note: I know that was long, sorry:)) If you bared with it and made it through, thank you so so soo much for reading. There will be a part 2 to this one coming soon. I just wanted to say thanks and sorry if there were any mistakes(I'm not a native speaker). I hope you have a wonderfull day~

[violetsystems]

#personal

I had to let the little tabby go this morning.  I woke up to the third day of shitting on the rug in a row.  They had tried unsuccessfully to roll the carpet up like a burrito ignoring the litter completely.  I had brought it in earlier in the week and gave it a full wash.  Yesterday I went so far as to get doggie pads from the pet store and laid them out near the litter.  It had been locked in my back studio for most of the time until I cracked the front door open this morning.  I gave it a choice as it hesitated on the porch and it slowly lunged then jumped over the divider.  It stared down at me for a minute then went off.  Not two minutes later when I went back out to check, another black cat was staring up from the stairs confused.  I wondered if they were lonely too.  There are no shortage of strays in our neighborhood.  I say this almost metaphorically sometimes.  One fateful November on the coldest night of the year I brought the Calico in from the cold.  These days more often than not I wake up to her cuddling me like teddy bear.  She was fairly vocal about the arrangement but not overly aggressive to our visitor.  She adjusted to the litters almost automatically with a few months of peeing where she shouldn’t.  This cat was a different story.  I had felt guilty.  I’m the only one who seems to care about the wildlife it seems.  When it becomes my responsibility, the landlord finds new things to single me out on.  But for the most part, I can’t really save the entire neighborhood by myself.  Especially when people just ignore me and talk behind my back about the Fundamental Attribution Error they perceive me to be.  I’ve been learning to make my own decisions however heartbreaking they may be.  And in this case, I felt if I kept them indoors any longer it would not be a happy situation for any of us.  It hurt.  I cried a little.  But ultimately, every hard decision is easy to make when nobody cares what you do.  And lately it’s really felt like for the most part nobody really gives a fuck about me.  This is not to say I believe it through and through.  I obviously continue to write these because there are people out there who read into them for my insight.  Mostly because I feel they care about me and how I think.  But I can assure you that I am very much alone in my life here in this city.  It is such a catastrophic failure of isolation that I’ve wondered if it’s for the best.  How do you let go of the things that hurt you?  How do you make decisions for yourself that tear you apart inside daily?  How do you live with the guilt?  Personally I’ve lived in the silence of the choices I make for so long that I am at peace with my trajectory.  It doesn’t mean that it’s not a brutal process of letting go and growing at the same time.  

It’s important to note sometimes that people ask too much of you without anything in return.  And this can go on and on until you are saddled with responsibilities.  Society in America is the worst for that these days.  You can never be good enough for most people.  The real trick is that people aren’t really aware of what’s good enough.  And so their perception of who you are and what you do is always skewed.  Celebrity is a hallucination based off of this.  I personally think I’m never good enough for anyone.  I’m not good enough at anything to not be compared to someone else.  And yet the entire last week my net worth crept up without me doing much of anything other than readjusting my finances.  I compare myself constantly because nobody ever treats me like a human being.  Nothing I do is good enough.  The job market is the worst for this kind of mental torture.  You feel picked over and ignored.  You read into the narratives in the news about how the next recession will be the worst.  There will be no jobs.  It will be a musical chairs situation and you will have sat out too long.  Your skills are useless.  Your pay won’t compare to what you were making.  You’ll have to make sacrifices in your life while the rich dance on the ashes of your bottom line removed from their fiscal budget.  And the more I compare myself to the American narrative the more I realize how pigheaded and pompous it is.  It never meets you eye to eye.  It isn’t that proud.  It never wants to face your pain and admit that it has contributed to it by playing into the very same game that hurts you.  It wants a savoir and a martyr at the same time.  A fall guy and a shill.  An inside outside man.  And when you look yourself in the mirror and try to be that all you can see is more pain reflected back at you.  I never wanted to be in this mess.  I only wanted to be a good person.  I show love every day and it is not returned.  And sometimes you have to reevaluate how much of it you want to squander on people who use it like a prop.  Everybody wants a superhero until they realize they’re the villain.  Everybody thinks they’re better than you until you prove them otherwise.  They waltz around in the street like it’s a parade or fashion show.  Expect you to read into every single nuance without understanding the context and the history of what you’ve honestly been through.  And after awhile the writing becomes clear on the walls.  The shit on the carpet is consistent and without fault.  It’s in their nature.  The human animal isn’t so hard to understand and neither is love  Love is waking up to your cat inexplicably attached to your chest until you cannot breath.  Envy and jealousy have nothing to do with it.  Love sometimes after all these years is an understanding of just how fucked up it is.  Like a caged bird, you open the gate and wonder if they’ll leave.  I open the back door and it’s just me and my cat staring out waiting for things to change.  And the more they do, things around here have pretty much stayed the same.  And the angels on my shoulder however you’d like to visualize them never leave my side.  So I have all the information I need to make the hard adult choices for myself and live with them.

Everything does pretty much suck lately.  I’m about to face another winter alone.  Aside from my cat and my long distance friendships which are more fulfilling than I could ever explain.  I feel targeted and attacked almost every day.  I do think about leaving entirely.  I also think about how logistically that can happen with one cat as opposed to two.  It hurts the most to admit that things aren’t really working out for me.  And it becomes a game of figuring out what actually does.  Because if you wallow in the misery of it all you can miss some opportunities.  My bank missed a rally on a stock I got in on early.  Now they’re projecting it forward to 2025.  All I ever hear from any business talking head is this idea of pivots.  How we’re supposed to continually get knocked off our bikes and get back up again.  The pivot is the musical chairs game corporate America loves to play.  Thin the ranks and the benefits and offer more duties to the next person for less pay.  When you’ve been kicked out of every elite club and shunned into nothing more than a ghost where do you actually go?  What do you have to do to be valued as a human being?  I can save every cat in the neighborhood and donate my proceeds to charity and I will still be invisible.  And if I don’t snap out of it I will fade like Casper the friendly ghost.  It’s not a joke anymore.  This is my reality.  I am phased out of everything and whispered about like some legendary scarecrow.  Nobody ever talks to me.  Nobody ever calls me by my name.  I never hear the words “Hi Tim” other than in personal assistance from Artificial Intelligence.  Animals speak to me clearer than most humans.  And what I heard from the little tabby I tried to help was pretty clear.  They didn’t belong here.  And in some ways neither do I.  And yet where do I go?  I feel like I’m trapped in a constant episode of the Prisoner.  This happy little village wants to pretend they’re better.  That I need to acknowledge them and their fucked up ways before I’m accepted again.  And then there’s the undercurrent beneath all of that.  The idea that people understand that I try to lead by example.  That I’ve already communicated what I’m about.  That nobody wants to believe my narrative on things because it would be a horrible reality.  To realize that I am better than this.  And in some ways, admitting this to myself I’ve realized why I’ve waited so long.  I wanted to know for sure.  And I wanted to make decisions that were true to myself that people could be proud of.  And the one thing I have never given up on is the future.  I don’t have room for any more cats.  Nor do I have room for any more people.  No new friends.  Angels only.  Yes I do sometimes feed the strays.  I’m a polite and genuine person by nature.  But don’t take my kindness for a weakness.  And when I close the door on this chapter of my life.  Don’t come knocking when the story is over.  <3 Tim

[fanficparker]

Faking, Falling > Part 3

Harrison Osterfield x Reader (Fake dating! Unrequited love switcheroo!)

Word count: ~3.3k words

Warning: Swearing, Angst.

Summary: Positive or negative intentions yet the results do look pleasant but for how long?

<< PART 2 [ MASTERLIST ] PART 4 >>

"I am taking the day off early." You tell Jade, making sure Harrison was nearby and could hear you clearly.

"You seem excited, is there something special?"

You look at Harrison through your peripheral vision, who was just sitting ten feet from you, reading his script. But as much as you know him, you were sure his concentration was not on his script but on you. Completing almost one and a half month here on set you knew if you and he were in the same room, his mind was always wandering around you. Well, you would be more than pleased to get the eyes of the blonde who has the ability to get everyone's eyes on him, only if he wasn't a jerk. You were sure the only reason he had is eyes on you was to search for a perfect opportunity to belittle you or to make fun of you in some way or the other like he does every time.

But this time was different. You wanted to belittle him. Everyone who works on this set very well knew Simon and Harrison never got well. They had arguments every now and then and it would be really cool to show how his enemy was far better than him.

A smirk played on your lips as he stole glances at you thinking you weren't noticing. Idiot. You turned your attention back on Jade as you spoke further, "Simon asked me out! And now we have a date tonight, of course, I am excited."

"Really? But you told me just a week before that you weren't ready to date after-" She paused turning her head to see Harrison in the corner and then back at you, afraid she would speak anything that could hurt you. But you completed her sentence yourself.

"After that arsehole pulled that prank on me? Pfft." You were louder than you should for a bilateral conversation with Jade because it was with someone else. She looked surprised at your confidence level and that you were so comfortable saying Harrison 'arsehole' when he could easily hear.

"Look I thought about it and came to a conclusion. I am sure every fucking person on this planet is better than him and Simon... Simon hates him, I hate him. It's a perfect match!" You sounded as if it was a sure thing. You could feel Harrison's gaze on you, making you almost chuckle but you successfully hid it under a fake cough.

"Okay. I am happy for you." Jade said although you were sure her approval only translated to 'but Y/n that's not a very reliable reason to date someone.'

"Yeah, anything except that arsehole makes me happy." You smirked turning giving him a look and walking back to your designing room.

"Mate, I think she was referring to you." Harrison's co-star Greg whispered in his ear.

"Fuck off!" He mumbled and slammed his script on the front table, getting up and walking to your room.

"Seems like we aren't on good terms, specky."

You heard his voice behind you as you continue to sew your costume.

Without looking at him you clearly stated, "Next time make sure to knock before entering."

"Excuse me, what?"

"Looks like you need to get your hearing checked." You said finally looking at him. His jaws dropped yet again. You could see him struggling to take in your changed behaviour, which simply means - your faking game was working fine.

"You have changed," He said quietly.

"Guess it's a change for good."

For like minutes he just stared at your eyes as if he was trying to read them. It felt like he was searching for the part of you that you no matter how much you acted to be confident yet get flustered at his sight or snarky comments. You didn't give in, maintaining firm eye contact. He licked his lips and you could see the clear movements in his Adam's apple.

Harrison Osterfield was nervous and you were the reason behind it.

"Did it really hurt you that bad?" His voice was barely a whisper but still, you could clearly make out his words.

"Like you care, Osterfield."

He exhaled deeply.

"Yeah, you are right. I don't care."

"Good for you. Looks like the hatred is mutual."

"Never said it was hatred---"

"Action speaks louder than words..." A third voice interrupted before Harrison could complete himself. You and he both turned to see Simon standing by the door, holding a bunch of costumes. He was also you assistant after all.

"I am sorry if that sounded cliché but Y/n surely isn't enjoying your company." He said entering inside, keeping the costumes on the table and faced Harrison.

"You are no one to speak for her," Harrison spoke with gritted teeth.

"Well for your kind information, we are going on a date to---"

"That still doesn't make you speak for her. You aren't her boyfriend."

"At least she doesn't hate me," Simon said, standing just two inches from Harrison. The scene that played in front of your eyes seemed a lot more serious than you expected, making you quietly stand there and listen.

"Well, she will definitely hate you if I tell what you really do." The corners of Harrison's lips tugged into a light smirk.

"Ensure you have enough proofs before opening your mouth, Osterfield. We both know whom Y/n will trust otherwise."

Harrison smile fell and now Simon was the one confidently grinning. Harrison shifted his gaze towards you and then back at him. He exhaled again and walked from the side, saying nothing, leaving you and Simon alone in the room. Simon turned to look at you, giving a bright smile but it didn't do anything to the sinking, dark feeling in your abdomen. Their conversation was so shady that it made you sick.

"Aww come on Y/n, don't listen to him. Just two more hours of work and we are free!" He cheered to which you smiled (fake, obviously) but still you believed in him more than Harrison which let you sigh and calm yourself.

* * *

Two hours went by really slow but they did anyway. Simon asked you to leave together but you told him to leave first as you had to do finish the last tid-bits of your designs.

"I will be at Regan's Diner at 7. Can't wait to see you there!" And then he left when you concentrated back at your costume. You sighed, stretching your arms, relaxing. You glanced at your phone.

"Shit!" You jolted up from your seat, it was already 6:25 pm, you were late by 20 mins. You needed time to go back home, get dressed and then reach the restaurant. You cursed under your breath, assembling your stuff and shoving it into your handbag. Accidentally your phone slipped landing on the soft carpet beneath your table. You zipped up your bag, oblivious to your missing phone and rushed outside. You almost bumped into that blue eyes notorious blonde but stabilised yourself before you could collide. He gave you a blank look and you ignored him, walking out and driving to your home.

* * *

It was just five-minute past and Harrison couldn't find any interest in rehearsing his role. The conversation between him and you played over and over again in his head. If your date with Simon goes well, he would no more be able to follow you around or see your flattered or maybe annoyed expression. The thought of completely distancing himself from you made his stomach churn. But he doesn't care, right?

But you weren't wrong... He did feel guilty of what he did now.

No. No... He doesn't care about you or anyone... He isn't guilty.

It was your life, your date, whatever it was it had nothing to do with him. Maybe it was good for both of you. If he could survive without Tom and his company then he was sure he could definitely survive without interacting with you. You, who was basically nothing for him... He shook his head at all these annoying self debates going in his mind and he decided to take a break too. He finally called it a day off. He was about to walk out of the building when Greg called him.

"George asked you to keep all your costumes arranged as Simon & Y/n both have already left."

"Yeah yeah, no need to explain..." He rolled his eyes, dramatically.

Thank you Greg for making the day hundred percent better! He placed his costume in the wardrobe stand and then heard the sound of a chime. He checked his phone, but there was nothing. He again heard the sound and this time his gaze landed on the phone lying beneath the table. He picked it up, realising it was your phone. He would have not cared even a little bit if the 'two new messages' notification didn't show the name, Simon.

Don't open the message. Don't open the message...

And then he did... You didn't put a lock-screen password and Harrison felt calm blaming it on you.

Simon [6:35 pm]: Hey Y/n. I m really sorry but I got stuck in some important work. Can we plz meet at 9:30 instead of 7?

Simon [6:35 pm]: Tell me if this works for you. And I m really sorry for changing the plans on last minute.

Harrison read through the messages, rolling his eyes as if it was the most stupid message of all time. The phone chimed again.

Simon [6:36 pm]: Waiting for your reply <3

"Look how fucking excited this bastard is!" Harrison mumbled.

Maybe he does deserve a reply...

Harrison's fingers danced on the phone screen without thinking twice.

You would have put in a password if you were too bothered.

Y/n [6:38 pm]: No problem. See you at 9:30 then.

And the phone chimed again.

Fucking desperate!

Simon [6:38 pm]: Great. Can't wait to see you ;)

"Haha... Like she'll wait for you till nine-thirty!" Harrison finally felt a bit relieved from today's incident. A proud smile formed on his lips. He debated whether to keep the phone with him or leave it here... But first he should delete this conversation and he did.

Wait... What if he hands you back this phone himself? And enjoy your and Simon's date... Sounds like a plan to him.

He slipped the phone in his jacket and eagerly drove to your house, smiling proudly. He parked the car in the driveway and didn't waste a single minute ringing your door-bell.The door opened a minute later.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Thank you for being so polite. I really appreciate," Harrison chuckled at your annoyed voice. His eyes travelled from your head to toe, taking in your complete look. There were a hairbrush and a lipstick in your hands. Your hairs were half combed. You were wearing a blue knee-length dress, and the ribbons on your sleeves were still untied. You looked like you were rushing.

Yeah, rushing... For your date.

"Tell me what's your work I literally am getting really late and can't even find my fucking phone!" You growled looking at the wall clock showing 6:59 pm already.

"Well maybe this is yours," Harrison said taking out your phone. You looked at his hand and instantly snatched the device out.

"Oh God! Where do you get this?"

"Really Y/n. Your guest serving etiquette is kinda fucked up." He said leaning at your door frame as you checked your phone.

* * *

You were absolutely confused to see Harrison at your doorstep but because you were already late for your date, you didn't want to waste any more time thinking about any possibilities. But now he was here, safely handing you your phone. It's true you haven't forgiven Harrison for what he did and neither ever he asked for any apologies making you want to continue this hating game. You won't be lying if you say - you were actually enjoying it. It was easy to hate him than to deal with any other feeling. Maybe this crush was dying slowly, slowly. Everything you ever wanted...

But right now, he came to return you his phone and maybe he was right. It deserved a thank you.

"Oh sorry. Thank you but really where did you get it?"

"Beneath your table."

"God! I am such an idiot... " You laughed and damn, something in his heart stopped working. He glanced at your face, how your eyes squinted forming little creases along the corners and how your lips parted ever so slightly. He has always been the sole reason for your sadness & anger. But seeing you smile and laugh because of him automatically made his own lips tug into a small smile, his eyes still concentrated on your face.

Your laugh died down as a nervous chuckle in the end when you noticed his intense gaze on you.

"I-uh... I am getting late. You make yourself at home till I get ready." You tucked a hair strand behind your ear looking at your feet. You heard Harrison lightly cough, maybe to lighten the thickening air between you both.

"Yeah."

After five minutes you showed up again cursing about already being super late.

"I should call Simon. Maybe he thinks I am flaking out!" And before you could search for his contact, your phone was snatched from your hand. Your eyes shot up only to meet Harrison's icy blue ones.

"What are doing? It's just six-ten. You don't need to call him." He told.

"But I have to reach Regan's Diner too---"

"It's just five minutes from here. I'll drive you there. You don't wanna look like an idiot apologizing for just 15 minutes..." He handed you the phone back.

"You-you will drop me?" You asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, why not. Now hurry up, you don't wanna waste any time, right?" He already opened your main door signalling you to move out.

Was it right for you to go with Harrison when you already knew how much Simon hated him?

"Y/n, we are getting late!" He yelled standing near his car, giving you no time to think too much. You would have straight away denied if you weren't so punctual and being already late wasn't making you feel guilty.

The drive was silent and you couldn't thank less. You were panicking for your date but he was panicking about something else.

What if you come to know about those messages he sent and then deleted?

"Hey hey stop, we came ahead!" You said and Harrison instantly pulled the breaks.

"Ah, sorry, I was thinking about something."

When did Harrison Osterfield start saying sorry?

"Thanks for dropping me by the way," You smiled genuinely to which he nodded. You rushed inside the restaurant asking for your reserved seat. The waiter gave you the seat and you came to know Simon didn't arrive yet.

Good, you didn't call him.

7:40 pm and Simon didn't show up yet. You rubbed the skin of your arms in concern and embarrassment or maybe shame. You tried to divert your attention by scrolling through Instagram on your phone when you heard the noise of a chair pulling in front of you. Your head shot up only to see Harrison...

"Harrison? You didn't go?---"

"Saw you waiting and well... Guess my doubts were real!"

"What guess?"

He took a seat continuing, "Simon isn't going to come. He is a jerk, he likes flaking out---"

"At least, he isn't doing anything you did at Rick's party!" You spoke straight.

"Oh, come' on. Can we just forget it." He groaned stretching his back into the chair.

"You didn't even say sorry or anything regarding it. I have the right to carry whatever feeling I have for that incident and you." You said, one hand resting on your chin while the other mindlessly making invisible patterns on the table cloth. Harrison sighed and rubbed his palms over his eyes lightly.

"Okay okay... I get it. Sorry. I am really sorry. Now can we just forget it?"

The corners of your lips tugged upwards, a small smile forming.

"Will think about it..." You said slowly.

"Hello, sir and ma'am would you like to order something?" The waitress asked coming to your table, a big smile on her face.

"Umm... Actually, someone still didn't arrive---"

"Yeah, we can start with some starters... Cheese rolls, soup. Are you good with that?" Harrison interrupted you. He looked at you and you didn't understand what to answer so nodded.

"Thank you, just give us five minutes and hope you both are enjoying your date..."

"We--no..." You tried to clarify but the waitress had already walked away. You hated it but your cheeks felt warm making you look down at the table. An uncomfortable silence enveloping the two of you.

Harrison fake coughed to get you attention, "Umm, so for how long are you been here, in London?"

You looked up at him, a bit astonished to see him actually starting a good conversation.

"Well, two years. I came here to learn from some big fashion designers basically thought of getting an internship at Joshua Kane but guess they didn't need interns." You gasped.

"So, you came here to get a job at JK?" He leaned towards the table.

"No. For learning. I actually would love ��o start my own brand. Basically, it's my dream, goal. There's just too much competition. Seems like everyone is better than me." You pursed your lips, looking at the glass of water blankly.

"Your work is personally my favourite. I mean it doesn't look like you are any less than professionals."

No. No... That feeling you hated it. Those butterflies... Harrison Osterfield... Not a good combination.

"You're just bluffing." You say, smiling shyly.

"Don't believe me but my fortune cookie did tell me that." He lightly chuckled.

"So, you believe in those?"

"Come on Y/n. I am saying the truth..."

"Thank you..."

"Your order." The waitress served your starters.

...

"Well, then see you tomorrow..."He dropped you back home.

"Yeah..." As he left you raced inside your house almost squealing in excitement. Changing your clothes you got into your bed. You replayed your time with Harrison this evening. Your phone rang and you absolutely blocked Simon's number the exact minute he called. He flaked out in your eyes after all. But then your phone chimed.

A new message.

Jade [10:45 pm]: How was your date?

You smiled at the message and wrote without thinking twice.

Y/n [10:45 pm]: Fucking awesome!

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

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[aseriesofunfortunatetexts]

Friends, volunteers, countrymen, lend me your ears

Without any context whatsoever, here comes the first Reader/Ernest sex scene from my upcoming fic. It has bondage. It’s 5000 words long. It’s explicit as hell.

You take the back stairs down to the first floor, where you intend to take the elevator the rest of the way down. That way you will be able to notice if you’re being followed, and if anyone is in the lobby they won’t know that you came from the roof.

The door to the stairwell closes softly behind you as you exit, and you immediately begin making your way to the elevator, in the hopes that you’ll be able to reach the reception before your absence is noticed.

That plan is squandered as a strong arm wraps itself around your middle and you’re pulled into the shadows, suddenly held back against a firm chest. You don’t scream (and you’re quite proud of yourself for managing that), but a hand covers your mouth nonetheless, like its owner expected you to make a lot of noise. You don’t even give them the pleasure of you fighting back, rather your training kicks in and you go limp, giving off the impression that you’ve submitted to your attacker, as you instead immediately start calculating means of escape.

“Hello, sweetheart,” a familiar voice whispers in your ear, and now you actually freeze up. “Where’ve you been?”

Having no clue how to respond, you settle on wiggling playfully and making a whining noise that is muffled against the palm covering your lips. When you aren’t released, you let out an exasperated ‘mrnmft!’, the closest approximation of your assailant’s name that you can manage at the moment.

Ernest chuckles and gives you a playful squeeze before removing his hand from your mouth, although he doesn’t let go of you. “Yes?”

“Somebody could see,” you tell him, trying to hide your guilty conscience under some genuine worry. You are in the middle of the hallway after all.

“They won’t. But, if you insist.” He pulls you backwards a few steps and then fumbles briefly, obviously hindered by only having one hand free and having to operate a door behind his back, but he gets it open without releasing you and seconds later you’re both inside an empty room.

Since your obvious reason for being on edge is gone, you force yourself to relax a little. Go with the flow, as it were. “Are you going to let me go any time soon?”

Ernest leans down and brushes his lips across the side of your neck. “Nah,” he whispers. “I like having you where I want you, unable to escape.”

An alarming turn of phrase. At least it should be, your precarious situation considered. But... goddamn it, you do like the sound of that.

You’re almost starting to relax for real, melting into the semi-embrace Ernest has you trapped in, even going so far as to remain still when he finally lets you go. He takes off your hat and throws it on the bed to your left, then reaches for the buttons of your jacket and starts popping them open with deft fingers, and you let him without the slightest protest, and without turning around to look at him either. That turns out to be a mistake.

The jacket open, Ernest pulls it off your shoulders and off, throwing it onto the bed next to your cap, and leaving you in your pristinely kept shirt. He runs his hands lightly down your arms, eventually circling his fingers around your wrists and pulling both your arms behind your back. Once again you let him. Second mistake. He reaches for something in his pocket, and then there’s cold metal pressing against your right wrist, followed by a resounding click. You don’t even have time to panic before your left wrist is similarly seized, cuff clicking into place.

You should have known he wouldn’t let that thing with the handcuffs go.

Now you panic. Quietly. Mostly in the form of going completely rigid.

Ernest notices immediately, putting his hands on your shoulders in what is no doubt meant to be a comforting touch, but to you it’s just another way he’s keeping you trapped and you are suddenly very aware of how dangerous this is, being restrained by an enemy, completely helpless, even though he doesn’t know you’re on separate sides. Because surely he doesn’t know, right?

“You okay?” he asks.

You rack your brain for an answer that won’t seem too confrontational but will still make him uncuff you. An idea springs to mind. A joke. “I prefer rope,” you say breezily.

Ernest laughs, squeezing your shoulders before removing his hands again. “I should have known. I can work with that.”

“You can?” you ask with a surprising (and worrisome) level of curiosity in your voice.

“Oh yes,” Ernest replies, “I’m quite proficient with rope.”

You don’t remember reading anything about that in his file, you should add this in your next report, if could prove important one day. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

He laughs again, and you find yourself chuckling along, but mostly because you’re still frightened, and you always did have a tendency to laugh nervously when you were scared. Ernest eventually trails off into a hum, stroking one of your arms before removing his hands and fiddling with what you hope is the keys.

“You sure you want out?”

You nod a couple of times and thank the heavens when Ernest uncuffs you seconds later. You’re so relieved that you spin around with the cuffs still hanging off one of your wrists and practically throw yourself into his arms, clutching the lapels of his suit jacket and pressing your lips against his in a searing kiss. You probably shouldn’t appear this grateful, but adrenaline is pumping wildly through your veins and you can’t stop yourself.

Ernest is initially shocked to stillness, but he soon gets with the game and kisses you back. Content in the knowledge that you’ve dodged another bullet, at least momentarily, you allow yourself to let your body do what it wants, even if it means clinging to Ernest like you’re lost at sea and he’s the only thing keeping you afloat. And it feels so good, his mouth moving against yours, his tongue caressing yours, the slight tickles of his mustache, his arms encircling you and holding you tight. You feel like you could stay like this forever and nothing bad would ever happen.

Wrong!

Wrong!

Wrong!

Wrong!

Wrong!

Wrong!

... You’re really starting to hate that clock.

You try to pull away from Ernest, but he doesn’t let you go. You put a bit more force into your attempt to separate the two of you, to no avail. Ernest is a lot stronger than you are. “Frank will be wondering where I am,” you say.

“He won’t,” Ernest replies. “I told him you were attending to the gathering of German poets on the eighth floor.”

“What could they possibly need me to do that will take any considerable amount of time?”

Ernest shrugs, smiling playfully down at you. “I’ll let you try to come up with that part once Frank asks you about it. Which he will, make no mistake.”

You make a little huffing noise. “Fine. Leave me to appease the mean one.”

Ernest suddenly grows serious. “Frank isn’t mean. He’s just… sterner than I am.”

“I’ll say,” you reply, wiggling again to signal your desire to be let go.

With sigh of defeat, Ernest does just that. “Go on then,” he says, reaching to unlock the handcuff still hanging off your wrist. “Find him, spin your story, then spin another one, and come meet me in room 306 in ten minutes.”

306, right. You snort loudly to let him know that you got it, then you walk over to the bed and grab your jacket. “Might be fifteen minutes,” you say, pulling it on and starting to do up the buttons.

Ernest bats your hands away and starts doing them for you instead. “I’ll wait.” He pops to top button into place and gives you another kiss. “Now go lie your pretty little ass off.”

‘I’m doing that as we speak’ you think to yourself as you exit the room (177, as it turns out – something related to ethics as far as you recall) and make your way to the elevator.

***

Frank is pissed, as you expected, when you finally reach the reception. At least as pissed as Frank gets. “What took you so long?”

“Well, I-“ you begin 

He cuts you off with a wave of his hand. “I don’t care. Dewey won’t be needing you around tonight. 

Which is a lucky break for you, but you still have to ask, “Why not?”

Frank narrows his eyes at you, just a little. “That’s none of your concern. You can have the evening off, but I expect you to be back at work tomorrow morning.”

He sounds vaguely unhappy with this arrangement, but then Frank sounds vaguely unhappy with a lot of things. The only thing you care about right now is that you’re free to spend the evening with Ernest. That’s apparently the level you’ve sunk to, preferring sex with a villain to learning invaluable things from a noble associate.

You were woefully unprepared for this mission. Perhaps even unsuited. You should abort immediately.

Or... after tonight.

***

You make your way to room 306 while praying that there won’t be any guests roaming the halls in need of assistance on the way. The universe is on your side for once, and you make it there without getting stopped.

Ernest opens the door after a single knock, smiling broadly at you.

“I was starting to worry you’d gotten cold feet.”

You scoff, trying to appear neither nervous nor desperate. “It can’t have been more than ten minutes,” you say, unbuttoning your jacket and shrugging out of it, and letting it drop to the floor.

“12, actually. Did Frank give you trouble?”

“No more than usual.” You make sure to not actually sound annoyed, after Ernest’s earlier reaction to you calling Frank mean, you don’t want to push your luck.

Ernest hums in understanding, stepping closer to you, and you find yourself inhaling deeply in anticipation. He leans down and plants a slow kiss on your lips, then pulls back to smile gently at you. You feel a bit weak in the knees, being on the receiving end of such a tender expression. Which is pathetic. Fuck that, though.

You stand on your toes, trying to initiate another kiss, but Ernest leans out of your reach, shaking his head. “Easy there, sweetheart. We need to establish a few things first.”

You frown. “What?”

Ernest smirks. “Safe word.”

Oh, right. You’re totally giving away the fact that you’re not used to this kind of thing right now. But you can still save it, with a show of general knowledge. “I like the color system. Green for go, yellow for pause, red for stop.”

Ernest nods once. “Acceptable.”

To your mounting frustration, he still doesn’t kiss you. Instead he reaches for your bowtie, slowly untying it. He leaves is hanging loose around your neck, then unbuttons the first few buttons of your shirt. He abandons that process to pluck your hat off your head again and tossing it over his shoulder with casual disregard. Then he stops doing anything, and it’s only when he says, “breathe,” that you realize that you’re holding your breath. You exhale shakily and crack a joke. “I’ll breathe once you get on with it.”

Ernest tilts his head the tiniest bit to the left. Reaches for your shirt. And unceremoniously tears it open, buttons flying everywhere.

You yelp in surprise, hands flying up to grab a hold of his. “Ernest! That was my last clean shirt!”

“They have extra shirts in the basement. I’m sure no one will notice if one goes missing.” He smirks. “You did tell me to get on with it.”

“I didn’t realize that was an invitation to ruin my uniform,” you huff.

“Well now you know,” Ernest says. You notice that he’s cradling your hands now, which you’re still holding up in front of you, no doubt a subconscious move to cover yourself. You lower them careful, blushing when Ernest’s eyes follow the movement, taking in your upper body. Your uniform doesn’t include underwear (you really can’t imagine Frank picking out underwear for his employees), so you’re wearing your own, a simple lace bra with matching panties. At least you hope they match today. There’s actually a considerable chance that they don’t...

“You good?”

You realize that your breathing has gotten unsteady again. You force it to even out and in a show of confidence you seize a hold of Ernest’s right wrist, pulling his hand up to your chest. He takes the hint, cupping your left breast in the palm of his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. It feels nice, and you find your eyes falling shut for a moment. Ernest takes the opportunity to finally, finally, lean down and kiss you. You let out a shaky moan, gripping the front of his jacket and pulling him closer to you, grateful that he lets you.

Ernest is seriously good at this, you note, as he manages to simultaneously resume to process of undressing you while deepening your kiss. It makes you feel a lot more comfortable with the situation, knowing you’re in competent hands, quite literally.

Your bowtie and now-buttonless shirt end up on the floor with your jacket, your pants follow shortly after, at which point you reach up to unhook your bra yourself, lest you be accused of not helping.

Speaking of helping; you move to get Ernest out of his jacket at the very least, but the fucker steps back before you get a chance. Your groan of frustration makes him chuckle. “Get on the bed.”

With an impudent glower, you do as he asks. By the time you’ve made your way onto the queen sized bed, Ernest has removed his jacket, and while he leaves on the rest of his suit, he does unbutton his cuffs and rolls his sleeves up to his elbows, which is way hotter than it has the right to be. He walks over to the bedside table and opens the top drawer, making a show of pulling out a length of black rope.

You’d almost forgotten about that. Almost. Enough to feel a shiver run through you at the sight.

Ernest climbs onto the bed and straddles your lap. He puts down the rope next to you, and gently takes a hold of your wrists, guiding them up above your head. He firmly presses them down to the mattress before letting go, a silent command to leave them in place. Then he reaches for the rope.

He takes his time tying you up, humming softly to himself. The rope is softer than it looks, but as he finishes and sits back on his heels, and you tug experimentally on your new restraints, you realize that there’s no way you will leave this encounter without visible marks on your skin.

And his brothers might notice. And then they’ll know.

They probably already know that something is going on with you and Ernest, the three of them seem so close that you doubt something like this would pass they others by. But this is physical proof, not just of yours and Ernest’s dalliance, of how far it’s gone. You don’t just let someone tie you up if you don’t trust them.

And it’s not like Frank and Dewey will just be questioning your personal taste in men, they will be questioning your professionalism, they know that you know exactly who and what Ernest is, that you’ve read accounts of what he’s done in service of the other side of the schism, and yet you’ve still fallen into bed with him like some kind of stupid teenager.

They’re going to think less of you, they have to, and you hate the idea almost as much as you hate yourself for not wanting this to stop even despite of it.

Your worry must have shown on your face, because Ernest leans over you with a concerned expression on his. “Is everything alright?”

You quickly try to school your own expression, but it’s too late, judging from the way Ernest is frowning at you. Quick, an explanation, any explanation!

“I... um,” you stutter.

Ernest suddenly sits up, a little smile tugging to corner of his mouth. “You lied, didn’t you?”

Fuuuuuuuuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, what do you do now?

“You’ve never done this before, have you?” he finishes.

The rush of relief you feel as his wrong guess is strong enough to make your entire body shudder and then relax. Yes, that’s a good explanation.

“I haven’t,” you confess.

Ernest touches your cheek then, thumb gently stroking your cheekbone. “We don’t have to do this,” he says, looking at you with a renewed intensity. You find yourself staring back for several seconds, getting lost in his eyes, and for some reason Kit Snicket’s words echo in mind:

E is for Ernest, who is evil.

Sure.

All right, you have to acknowledge that being considerate in bed doesn’t necessarily mean you’re a good person. But... surely it’s indicative of a moral compass?

This is a conundrum for another time, you decide. You empty your mind and smile up at Ernest, pulling at the ropes around your wrists and arching your upper body upwards in an obvious invitation to touch you. “Green,” you say.

He smiles back at you softly, and nods. “Good.”

“I don’t suppose you’d consider taking off some of your clothes?” you ask playfully, although to be honest, it does turn you on that he’s almost fully dressed while you’re almost naked. Doesn’t mean you don’t want to see him as well, see if he looks just as good out of those suits as he does wearing them.

“Later,” he replies, and although his voice is easy, it also leaves no room for argument.

You’re debating whether it would be too childish to pout, but you don’t get the chance, because Ernest leans down and kisses you. You respond immediately, lifting your head off the mattress to deepen it. Which, as you should have expected, just makes Ernest pull away from your again. “You’re a fucking asshole,” you groan, letting your head drop back to the mattress.

“I don’t think you quite understand the concept of submission,” he teases, putting a hand on your bound wrists as if to remind you of the position you’re in. You shiver at the word, submission. He’s right, it’s an unfamiliar concept to you. You’re starting to see the point though.

“Why don’t you educate me?” you ask.

A kind of dark excitement flashes across his face, like it’s just what he wanted you to say. “It will be my pleasure.” He kisses you, two way too short pecks on your lips. Then he pulls back just far enough to look you in the eye. “It’s not difficult. You just let me take care of you.”

That sounds really, really appealing right around now, so you nod your understanding and force yourself to let go and relax completely.

Ernest gives you an encouraging smile. “Good girl.”

You can feel yourself blushing and your whole body humming with quiet anticipation, and you can’t stop yourself from giggling when Ernest leans down and kisses your neck, his mustache tickling your sensitive skin. For a brief moment you feel him smile against you, but then, just as quickly, his teeth are suddenly nipping at you, and your sniggers trail into a deep moan. He continues alternating between kisses and gently bites, not hard enough to hurt or leave marks, but the implication is there, that he could be marking you if he wanted to. And when he starts moving downwards to your chest, he does start sucking a lot harder at your skin, leaving a trail of red marks from your throat and down to your breasts. Where they won’t show.

“Please,” you murmur, not knowing exactly what it is that you want until Ernest takes you right nipple into his mouth and gently bites it. That’s it, that’s what you wanted. You moan, curving your chest upwards. Ernest chuckles, moving across your chest to repeat the action on your other nipple, alternating between sucks and bites, but not showing any signs of wanting to proceed south.

His slow pace is starting to drive you crazy, the feeling of unbearable need building between your legs, and you let him know by arching your lower body off the bed, closing your thighs around his upper body and squeezing.

“You’re really bad at this,” Ernest remarks. “All good things come to those who wait.”

“I’m done waiting,” you protest, pulling hard at your restraints to show your impatience.

“That’s not supposed to be your choice,” Ernest says, but his tone is playful rather than critical, which gives you hope.

And your eagerness apparently pays off, because Ernest moves southwards until he’s situated between your knees, trailing kisses down your stomach on the way. He slowly pulls down your panties and then lifts both your legs off the mattress, hooking your knees over his shoulders, giving you the opportunity to pull his upper body closer to your crotch, which you immediately try take advantage of, but Ernest resists, and even grabs a hold of your hips and pins you down. You groan in frustration, rubbing your legs against his back, enjoying the feeling of the fabric of his vest against you naked shins.

Ernest places a kiss on the inside of your thigh first and then finally, finally, moves his mouth to your cunt, licking a slow trail from your entrance to your clit. You moan helplessly, trying your hardest to thrust your hips towards him, but his grip on your hips is too firm.

“You might as well stop squirming,” he remarks with infuriating serenity. “Its’ not going to help.”

“Jesus fuck,” you curse. “Please, please, Ernest.”

“I do like the sound of you begging though,” he says, almost like he’s talking to himself and not you. “Almost makes me want to give you what you want.”

“Oh God, yes,” you plead, not caring how desperate you sound. “Please, I want you so badly, I want...” you trail off.

“What do you want?” Ernest asks.

“I want your mouth on me,” you say, cheeks burning.

Ernest chuckles, “Since you asked so nicely.”

He places his lips on your clit and sucks firmly, causing you to damn near scream in pleasure, and then keeps going. You quickly discover that the amount of teasing that’s gone beforehand has left you so wired up, you’re already teetering on the brink of your climax, and when Ernest doesn’t stop licking at your clit, you find yourself rushing towards the edge at an alarming rate. The only thing keeping you grounded now is the rope wrapped around your wrists, which you pull at harder and harder.

And then, just when your muscles are tensing, your toes are curling, and your breathing grows uneven, he fucking stops.

You actually cry out in frustration as he pulls his mouth off you, pressing your heels into his back, all to no avail.

Ernest has the nerve to laugh at your distress, getting to his knees and moving to the edge of the bed. “Easy now,” he cautions, getting up, and at long last starting to shed his clothes. You watch each piece fall to the floor with increasing hunger, feeling damn near ravenous by the time he finally drops his pants.

He’s already fully hard, and the knowledge that he’s gotten this aroused just by pleasuring you is amazing. He has a really nice cock, long and thick, just a little curved. If you’re being totally honest, you’ve never had particularly strong opinions about dicks before, and it might just be your libido speaking, but you really want Ernest inside you, the sooner the better.

To your great relief, that seems to be his plan as well. He gets back on the bed and moves between your spread legs, smiling at you when you immediately wrap them around him and pull him close. He leans down and kisses you deeply, and you find yourself unexpectedly turned on by the taste of yourself on his lips. You’re so focused on the kiss that it takes you by surprise when Ernest finally enters you, and you break away with a pleased gasp, then throw your head back as he immediately starts thrusting into you with measured, steady movements.

You briefly wonder how he can still be this controlled when you’re a pathetic mess, but that will have to wait, because right now the only thing you can think about is how good he feels inside you, and how the position you’re in is causing his pelvis to rub against your clit whenever he thrusts forward, and you can already tell that you’re going to come from that stimulation alone. Ernest seems to pick up on this soon enough, and starts shortening his thrusts and pushing his hips against you harder than before, grinning when your moans grow louder as a result.

Smug bastard. Well, two can play this game; you squeeze your inner muscles around his cock as hard as you can, letting out a breathless laugh when he gasps and loses his rhythm.

“You little...” he says, groaning and then trailing off without finishing when you do it again. “It’s almost like you want me to come already.”

“’Already’?” you ask. “We’ve been at it for hours.”

“Your perception of time is even worse than usual, and I will take that as a compliment,” Ernest replies.

You lift your hips off the bed and grind up against him, a wispy moan escaping you at the combination of being completely filled and getting your clit stimulated. “Stop talking,” you manage.

Ernest chuckles breathlessly. “All right then.” He braces himself with his hands on either side of you on the bed and starts thrusting into you again, harder and faster now. You moan your approval, which only makes him speed up his movements.

Your climax builds up slower this time, approaching like wave that you can’t outrun, or want to outrun for that matter. You pull harder at the ropes, realizing then that you’ve started chanting Ernest’s name over and over, interspersed with pleas of ‘more’ and ‘please’.

He gives you what you want this time, which is lucky for him, because you might just have killed him if he’d left you hanging once more. You heave a giant breath and then your orgasm is upon you, making you cry out and arch your back off the bed. Ernest keeps his rhythm perfectly and this draws out your climax until you’re left breathless, your whole body trembling. Finally it starts to fade as Ernest simultaneously slows his pace, and you relax with a shudder, your throat feeling raw from all the noise you’ve been making.

Ernest is waiting, his breathing labored. “You all right?”

“Yeah,” you mutter, squeezing around him again. “Go on.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. Now that he’s only chasing his own climax you discover that his thrusts are a lot less coordinated, and not as deep, right up until the very end, when he buries himself fully in you and comes with a deep, prolonged groan. You watch his face, the ways he shuts his eyes and tightens his jaw, only to then relax again as his orgasm starts to wind down.

He opens his eyes to find your still watching him intently, but you don’t look away, you’re beyond that at this point. Instead you smile slowly, and it only grows wider when he returns it with one of his own.

“Are you going to untie me now, please?” you joke.

Ernest makes a face like he’s pondering the question intensely, then says, “Since you asked so nicely.” He pulls out of you and you let out a little gasp, realizing for the first time that you’ve gotten very sore at some point. Same goes for your hips and legs, you discover as you unwrap them from around Ernest. He grants you a little hum of sympathy and strokes your side lightly. “Take it easy,” he says. “And don’t move your arms immediately once you’re loose, you’ll hurt yourself.”

You nod your understanding and wait patiently as he unties the knots with practiced ease. It’s only when they’re loose that you discover how hard you must have strained against them to get them as tight as they’d gotten. Blood rushes back into your hands all at once and it makes your palms tingle.

Ernest keeps his hands on your wrists, rubbing them gently, before moving down to massage your lower arms. Eventually he deems his efforts sufficient, and takes one of his hands in his, pulling it up to his face and planting a slow kiss on your knuckles. You would have blushed at the sudden tenderness if your face wasn’t still flushed from your vigorous love-making.

You immediately correct that word in your mind; fucking. That’s what you did, you fucked, and it was fucking amazing.

You... fucked a fire-starter. Got fucked by, whatever.

You get hit by a sudden rush of guilt then, and, fearing that it shows, you hide it from Ernest by grabbing his shoulders and pulling him down into a hard kiss. He lets you, sighing contently as you slowly map out his mouth with your tongue. It’s different now, when you’re both sated and relaxed, and you find yourself enjoying it so much that all your thoughts of regret slowly evaporate like dew from grass on a summer morning.

You can worry about the consequences of your actions tomorrow.

(The clock starts striking eight downstairs, the by-now familiar, persistent chant of Wrong! Wrong! hardly even bothering you right now.)

 ***

Fun facts: In the Dewey Decimal system 177 relates to Lying, and 306 relates to Sex.

[msjr0119]

Hold my girl

Part 4

No one really knows about TRR Main characters past …. Most of this series is based on flashbacks from her childhood. I’ve changed the main characters name to, Freya Johnson as Riley Brooks is used in my other series.

Freya is in love with Drake, but he hasn’t returned the feelings- instead just acts horrible towards her. Will Freya return back to Cordonia with the court or will she stay in the USA after the UN party.

Catch up with Part 3 here

Tags:

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*******

“Lady Freya, how nice to see you’re sticking around.” Madeleine smirked, along with a sarcastic tone of voice.

God I hate her. No that’s really nasty Freya. Use your Oscar winning fake smile. Daniel would be proud.

“Madeleine. I’m here to do you a favour.”

“Oh and what would that be?” Madeleine laughed in Freya’s face, Freya just wanted to punch her in the face- forcing her to pay a visit to the nearest plastic surgeon.

“You need to call this shower off now!”

“Really Lady Freya? I’ve been more than patient with you. I’ve looked over Liam’s obvious affection for you, endured your presence on this tour but I see no reason why......”

Suddenly Freya’s phone buzzed in her pocket. It was an email from Justin with the attachment of Tariq’s statement. Smiling, she knew that the previous smirk on Madeleine’s face would soon falter.

“If you won’t listen to me Madeleine, watch this!” As Madeleine watched the video the colour from her face slowly drains.

Maybe she feels bad? No this is Madeleine, she has no feelings.

“I see. I’ll think of something to tell everyone. Thank you for bringing this up to me. If it had played in the middle of our wedding shower... I... thank you Freya.”

“Yeah well I know what public humiliation feels like. I wouldn’t put you through that.”

What the fuck is up with you Freya. If anyone deserves humiliation it would be a snake like Madeleine. Just proves I had a good upbringing from Grace and Paul for thinking about other people as well as myself.

“I suppose that you do at that. You’re far more generous than given credit for.” Madeline walks towards the stage leaving Freya alone.

Always remember that if anyone is nasty towards you in anyway- it is most likely because they are jealous of you. Don’t allow anyone to make you feel bad. Keep your head held high. I love you baby girl.

Freya you are my daughter, I am so proud of the young woman you have become. You are so strong and determined. Never judge anyone, always have empathy towards everyone, no matter how much you may ‘hate’ them. I love you

Nobody likes us? So what? Ignore them. You’re my best friend. As long as I have you and you have me, that’s all we need. I’ll always have your back. Team Daniel and Freya!

Freya was forced to leave her memories as she saw Madeleine about to make a speech.

“Ladies and gentlemen if I may have your attention please... I’m afraid we will have to.....”

Immediately the room is filled with buzzing noises one after the other- the same noise echoing all around.

Shit!

Freya’s friends come up towards her looking shocked.

“You told Justin to not publish the statement right?” Drake asked, looking concerned towards her. Wondering why Justin would ignore her wishes, wondering why Justin would cause more trouble for her.

“Yeah. I text him- look.” Shaking, she passed Drake her phone. Looking back up towards her, he had sorrow in his eyes.

“Well I don’t know what happened but....” Maxwell panicked, it was like deja vu- a vendetta against Freya occurring all over again.

Freya heard everyone whispering around her. Penelope mentioned Tariq’s name whilst Madeleine gave Freya dagger eyes, she then heard Liam.

“They found him!”

Everyone gathered around Freya’s phone as they watched the statement. Tariq had confessed the truth around what really had happened that night at Applewood. That he was in the wrong, he apologised for all the events that had taken place in the room, and for not coming forward sooner, explaining Freya had nothing to do with it. It was a mix up and that he had invaded Freya’s privacy. Freya looked around giving everyone who was looking at her a dignified nod.

“Excuse me guys, I’m just going to get a drink of water.” All her friends looked concerned at each other as she walked away. She needed some air. She could hear all the commotion happening inside but needed to speak to her friend.

“Hey Dan, can you speak?”

“Frey what’s up?”

“It’s all over, my name is cleared.”

“That’s great sweetie, are you okay?”

“Just relieved. It’s over. No more whispering about me behind my back. They are so petty here- it’s like being back at high school. In fact no it’s worse! The fact that they are nobles you’d think they have manners, school kids have the excuse that they are kids.”

“Well you got through it then and I’m sure you will now. You’re strong Frey, if you wasn’t you wouldn’t have returned to face that shitstorm. You are determined but stubborn at the same time. They should have been afraid of you and to learn not to mess with a New Yorker.”

“Yeah, strong thanks to mom, dad and you. Talking about mom and dad, I haven’t had chance to see them. I feel guilty, and I know that sounds stupid but are you free tomorrow afternoon?”

“Of course I am. I’m sure they’ve missed you. You need to update your diary. Erm Frey?”

“Yeah...”

“You know when I said I needed to ask you something in that text? That’s what I wanted to ask. To ask if you’d been up to see them.”

“No Daniel. I feel guilty not going. No one from Cordonia knows about my past. Just gotten through one scandal- didn’t want to cause another one.”

“Well I’ve been up a few times and explained to them, and kept their graves tidy. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t. Thank you Dan! That means so much to me. Can you do me a favour? I need to send some things to your email - could you print them off for me and bring them tomorrow?”

“Sure thing Freya. See you at 2? Love ya sweetie.”

“See you then. Love ya”

Freya walked back into the room after talk with Daniel. She couldn’t believe what he had told her, he was a true friend. As she walked in Liam was on stage.

“ I propose a toast to Lady Johnson.”

Everyone in the room followed Liam’s toast. Freya saw Madeleine started to walk over just as Justin barged through the door.

No. Not dealing with this tonight. I feel like punching Justin.

“Hey guys, I’m going to head back. I’m really tired.”

“C’mon Jono, lets all get out of here before the press turn up and ask questions.”

Freya agreed with Drake, wondering why he was being so sincere for once. Along with Maxwell, Bertrand and Hana they headed back to the hotel. There was silence all the way back. She just wanted to go to sleep before seeing her mom and dad the following day but her friends insisted on coming inside with her.

“What a night!” Hana gently broke the silence between the friends.

“I can’t believe it’s over- finally.” Freya sighed as she kicked off her shoes and threw her bag onto the couch.

“Nor can I.”

“Liam?”

“I had a feeling you would all come here. I came as soon as I could. I can’t imagine how you are feeling after what my father put you through and what happened with Tariq.” Freya nodded and smiled at everyone.

How did I get lucky to gain such amazing friends? And I’m about to leave them all. Thank god for social media.

“I just feel relieved. It’s over. I’ve spent so long with schemes hanging over my head.” Maxwell jumps into the conversation- quite literally jumping. Freya raised her eyebrows at him, wondering how much alcohol he had managed to consume in the short time that they had attended the wedding shower.

“Now that you’re in the clear this calls for a celebration!”

“What did you have in mind?”

“What has amazing fried food, carnival games and crazy rides?” He said excitedly, with the biggest grin painted on his face.

“It’s Coney Island. He wants to go to Coney Island.” Drake now jumped into the conversation. He couldn’t bear anymore hints from Maxwell- they could possibly be there all night guessing. Freya laughed. “I see...”

“Yep! You. Us. Tomorrow morning? Liam can come too if he wants.”

“An excellent idea. I have things to do tonight but tomorrow sounds great.”

They arranged to meet at 10am before her friends left her room.

10am, that leaves me four hours to do Coney Island with my friends then get to my parents graves at 2pm to meet Daniel. How am I going to get away from them all without telling the truth of where I’m going? I don’t want to lie to them. Just then Freya thought of something. She had a plan.

*****

Freya couldn’t sleep after her name being cleared. Flashbacks occurred in the back of her mind from all the social season. Anyone else would have given up straight away.

Getting out of bed, she quickly showered and got dressed into a sports bra and leggings and decided to go for a run as she always did. It always cleared her mind for a bit. It was 6.30am. Plenty of time before she had to endure Coney Island with her friends. Not that she wasn’t excited to spend time with them, she just wasn’t as thrilled to be going. She went all the time. It was ‘old’ for her.

Grabbing her phone, headphones and bottle of ice cold water, Freya headed to the front door to leave for her run. As she got closer there was a knock.

Ffs Maxwell!

“Liam? I was just going to curse you thinking that you was my alarm clock also known as Maxwell!”

Liam stared at Freya, considering all the shit she had been through she could still crack a joke even at this time of the morning.

“Lady Freya, I thought I’d be disturbing you but looks like you are ready for the day and are going somewhere?”

“Yeah I couldn’t sleep. My New York brain kicked in. Whenever I couldn’t sleep, I’d go for a run to clear my mind. I’m just going now.... don’t worry I’ll be at Coney Island for ten. I’m not usually long.. scared of having a heart attack if I work out too much.”

“I don’t doubt for a minute you’d be late. And even if you was, this day is about you so we’d wait for you. I actually wanted to ask if you wanted to meet me before we went - for breakfast or a coffee somewhere? I’ve cleared my appointments for today.”

“Sure. What time? I’ll be an hour tops.”

“Ring me when you’re back. And I’ll come and collect you.”

“Okay. See you soon.”

Liam patted his pocket checking the box was still safe once Freya had left. They hadn’t been close recently- she kept ditching his suggestions of meeting up one to one. He believed it was because she didn’t want to cause another scandal whilst he was engaged to another woman.

But now her name had been cleared, he had considered asking her to become his Queen. She had won over the press during the social season, and now her name was cleared she could prove them all right that she is an amazing woman.

*********

An hour later Freya rung Liam, he immediately jumped out of his chair and grabbed his jacket. Just assuming he wanted to talk about her name being cleared, she didn’t think anything of it.

“Morning, did you enjoy your run.”

“Yes thank you. It’s good to be back to normality.” Liam wondered what she meant by the words back and normality.

“I see, so I thought we could go and visit the Statue of Liberty again?”

“Sure. Then we could beat those losers to Coney Island.” She laughed.

****

Liam admired the Statue of Liberty as he did that first night he met Freya, who went all out to make his dream come true about visiting her. Freya noticed that he was in a trance, assuming it was most likely due to the memory.

“We’ve come along way since we were last here.”

“Yes.” Liam couldn’t string a sentence together, deep down he knew she would immediately refuse his proposal due to their relationship drifting apart. Sitting down on a bench with the Statue in the distance, they both remained silent.

“Last time we was here, I was besotted with you. I always believed that if fate would bring us back together that I’d marry you.” Freya’s natural complexion suddenly drained, she wasn’t ready to break his heart. Any of their hearts in that case.

“I was going to ask you to marry me, be my Queen- but I knew deep down that you’d always say no after how my father treat you. I don’t blame you. I can see from your facial expression that you need to say something...”

“I ... I ...”

“Freya what’s up? I’ve never seen you speechless before. You’re strong. You’re determined.”

“Liam, I am those things. But deep down I’m constantly breaking down. I opened up to Duchess Adelaide at the UN party- I was drunk. I should have told you all about my past. Maxwell briefly knows. I’m so sorry Liam.” Liam looked at her bewildered, not knowing why she couldn’t talk to anyone regarding her past. After explaining about it all- he wore the same expression that Adelaide wore- both speechless.

“I’ve never seen you speechless before your Majesty.” She joked.

“You should have told us all. We all complained about our past to you. If you are feeling homesick- I’m not going to keep you tied up in a dungeon. You can leave Cordonia whenever. We can all make it a regular vacation.”

“Liam... I’m not coming back to Cordonia.”

[jmeddows2]

Purple Thunder (Roger Taylor Series) - Part 4

(present/old) Roger Taylor x  Reader

Notes: It’s been a while it’s finally here. Kind of a filler though? I’m sorry for that. I’ll try to update more frequently now :) I hope this makes up for it. Sorry for grammar/ mistakes, English is not my first language but anyways, I gave it a go. Enjoy and feel free to submit requests, feedback etc.

Warnings: cursing

Words: 2.5k+

…. when you arrived at home you found your boyfriend Josh sleeping on a chair in the entrance hall of your flat. He made sure to sit there and wait for you to get home. Josh never intended for you to leave him that night, like you did. He was too good for anyone, always searching for a conversation to talk things out, instead of throwing everything under a bus. He was always trying to find a solution, no matter how severe the situations and problems might seem. He looked so peaceful, legs sprawled out, his hands crossing over his chest as light snores escaped his mouth. His current state made you feel guilty, guilty that you spent the night away from him, while he was sitting at home, worrying about where you could have gone and what could have happened, wandering the streets of London at night all on your own. Guilty, that sudden feelings were creeping into your system, which did not mainly involve him anymore. Lost in your thoughts the door behind you made a loud sound as it shut, which you did not intend, and it made Josh shuffle. His eyes shot open once he realized that you finally arrived at home and he jumped up from the chair, basically jumping into your arms having a feeling of relief rushing through his body, seeing that you made it home safe.   -Y/N! Where have you been, babe? I’ve been worried sick! Don’t you ever leave again like that, PLEASE, I beg you! - he nuzzled his face into your neck, having his arms wrapped around you tightly.       

~a week later~

This time it wasn’t you the one to leave. It was your boyfriend, Josh. In fact, he went on tour with his band through North America, which meant approximately 3 months without him, though you were supposed to join for the last 2 weeks of their tour. Being without him for 3 months would mean loads of time for being productive, productive in a sense of recording a new album. -where in the world is it??- you mumbled as you were searching for your little notebook in which you kept all your thoughts inside, they then turned into songs. While making a mess in yet another room, searching for the little crème leather notebook you received as a birthday gift from a friend a few years ago, the memory of your first ever songwriting experience flashed before your eyes.

*it was a lazy Sunday afternoon and you were sitting behind the piano, a crumbled-up paper with a few lines scribbled on it in front of you. Those words written on the paper made you feel vulnerable, all your heart and soul expressed through words: broken love, insecurities, everything you’ve been wanting to talk about, but never actually had the courage to say out loud. Placing your fingers on the piano and hitting the first few notes was finally it, releasing everything, telling a story, processing feelings. It was like an addiction. Finally creating something, something that people might be able to relate to and making them feel understood was the goal*

Something you were glad to receive when you were younger and now you were lucky enough finally meet your heroes:  Brian, Roger… -FUCK- Roger has it. 

You left your notebook in his guest room. Oh no. Pacing around the flat and running your fingers nervously up and down your temples didn’t help the situation very much. You had to call him.

You gathered all your courage to call him, but as the phone kept ringing and ringing you felt more embarrassed by the fact that he didn’t pick up right away.

-Hi love- a hoarse voice finally spoke up. It was him. A feeling of relief rushed through your body.

-Um hi Roger, sorry to disturb you. I think I might have left m..my notebook at your place and I’d need it. We’re going to record today, and I certainly can’t do without it. -uhh yeah. I’ll look for it, text me the address and I’ll drop it off at the studio? - he asked. When in reality he didn’t have to look for it, because once he saw it sit on top of the table in the guest room, he decided to keep it secure in one of his drawers, which only he had access to.

-no need to, I’ll come pick it up myself, don’t want to cause any more trouble – you laughed nervously. - no, love, it’s no trouble at all, remember what I told you. Got to go now, see you later, text me. - with that he hung up the phone, not giving you a chance to disagree with him anymore.

After texting him, a sudden realization hit you as he currently possessed YOUR most precious belonging. You kept everything in it, EVERYTHING! Secrets and thoughts no one was ever going to hear about. You wrote about him. Never actually mentioning his name but Roger was smart, it didn’t take much to realize it was about him. You could only hope that he wasn’t as nosy, as he was caring.

Studio days were long and basically sucking the life right out of your body by the hour. First the writing, arranging everything, then recording, doing dozens of overdubs and the worst part: mixing. Due to the given circumstances you decided to wear a warm white jumper, some plaid black-white pants and a fuzzy coat. (as shown in the picture) with a little make up on. It was all about being and feeling comfortable.

Due to the absence of your notebook, you decided to record some songs written by your other band members first. It was successful until your guitarist Dan and drummer Sid (which happened to be hotheaded) decided to throw a tantrum about the pace of a song written by Dan.

As expected, Roger was right on time and watched the whole thing go down from the other side of the glass wall.

-Guys, please calm down, we can all sort it somehow- you tried to calm Sid down as he fiddled around with his drumsticks pointing at Dan, lingering around in his business. -stop fucking pointing at me with your fucking drum sticks, oh yeah forgot. that’s the only thing you’re good at!!! - Dan spat at Sid.

-you know what? Fuck you, at least I manage to do a good solo, you’re the one playing the same 4 chords in each and every song of yours! – the drummer Sid countered.

-that’s it, I’ll fucking quit. - Dan slid his guitar off his shoulder and stepped forward to talk to you. - what? Dan? - you asked him in disbelief, tears started to brim in your eyes. -I’m so sorry Y/N. I just can’t work with him anymore. - Dan pointed into Sid’s direction. -but the album is halfway finished. You can’t leave right now- you tried to keep him on board. without success. -I’m sorry, really am.- shooting a sympathetic smile and gave you one last hug before leaving the recording area. -umm, Y/N? - the producer’s voice filled the room through the speaker. -there’s someone here for you- you lifted your head up from your hands and looked through the glass. Roger was standing there with a big paper bag in his hands.

-alright, I think that’s it for today- you gave Sid, your bass player Anthony and the producer the rest of the day off, considering the fact that the band was now missing a member.

-Sorry you had to witness all that - you glanced up at Roger, wiping your wet cheeks before shooting him a sad smile. - you know, that’s nothing compared to the fights we had way back when..- Roger tried to cheer you up, setting the paper bag on the table next to the mixing board and taking his sunglasses off. -c’mere, love- Roger held his arms out for a hug, there was no better feeling than being in his arms again. It was wrong, after everything that happened the last time you had seen each other, but at the same time it almost felt like a healing process, having his arms wrapped around your waist. The warmth and kindness, love. He looked so good in his blue jumper, his hair was slightly brushed back.

-I brought you something- Roger broke the hug, as his blue eyes shone of excitement – I know how these studio days can get- he grabbed the paper big paper bag and pulled out a burger and fries. – thought you might be hungry- he smiled and placed it in front of you. - oh god, Rog, that’s really what I need right now, but you didn’t have to. Thank you so much- you grabbed the food and let yourself fall back on one of the leather couches. He pulled yet another surprise out of the paper bag: Curly Wurly chocolate bars.

-Y’know Rufus told me you like these- he placed the bars on the table.

-oh, did he? - you asked and he nodded. -did he also tell you that we basically lived off these when we were on tour? - you laughed as you took another bite of your hamburger, Roger joined you on the leather couch with your notebook in his hands. - you and Rufus really get along, huh? - he smiled at you to which you nodded. -here you go, love- he handed the little book to you -kept it safe, suppose your songs are in there. Don’t worry, I didn’t read anything. I know just how important each song can be, you treat them like they are your kids, you’re proud of them, no matter what other people might think. Look, the situation might not look too rosy right now about your whole band situation- he placed his hand on your shoulder- you must understand him, he’ll come around. Dan was it, the guitarist, right? - you nodded, and he continued- Dan will come around, he cares a lot about his own song, especially when someone interrupts and tries to change every single bit. Hell, I’m not proud of it but to be honest, I once locked myself into a cupboard to convince the others to release my song- Roger laughed and put his arm around you to pull you closer into his shoulder, while gently rubbing your arm. Despite the heaviness in your stomach, it fluttered at the feeling of your body pressed against his, it felt comfortable and you sunk into the warmth of his side. It was an appreciative, simple gesture, but his touch made the room slightly warmer somehow. -I’m in love with my car? I’m glad you did it though, it’s a really good song- you laughed into his shoulder like it was the most natural thing.

-You know about that? - he blushed. -But see?  That’s why I did it- he gave your hair a few strokes to calm you down a bit, which helped a lot. You devoured the rest of the burger, fries and ‘curly wurly’ bars with Roger when the look on his face suddenly became more serious. -Was she very mad at you? Your wife? - you asked, expecting to hear the worst. Expecting that he’ll never want to see you again or hang out with you again. -not so bad, don’t really want to talk about her though. There’s nothing to worry about – he assured you and tried to avoid the topic furthermore. -well, gotta get back to business again- you lifted your head off his shoulder and got up

– got to go and try mix a few songs now that I’ve sent the producer home, gosh I hate mixing songs. But thank you again for bringing me the food and my precious little thing right here- you pointed at your own personal lyric collection

-I couldn’t live withou- -Do you want me to help you?- Roger blurted out, interrupting your sentence. -mixing the songs?-

-I couldn’t ask you to do that, you’ve helped enough, but thanks- you tried to assure him that you’d be ok. - I’ve been struggling myself at first, in fact I hated mixing all the songs, but I swear it gets better. - he plopped himself down on one of the chairs behind the mixing board and you joined him. -ok I’d love your help then, if it’s no trouble-

-Ok look, you need to keep the elements in the mix at a steady and balanced level, without abnormal level changes popping out all over the place. – he fiddled around the faders on the boards, quickly glancing at you as you watched carefully - moving the faders around should get you very close to a rough mix.- he continued - try to find a good equilibrium and balance between the left and right speaker, you don’t want your track all over the place either – you nodded as he kept on giving you more useful tips about how each instrumental part must be handled differently without  resulting in a clattering or having an instrument drown into the back.

Roger being Roger sometimes managed to fool around a bit on the faders to create interesting sounds, that made you laugh and escape the seriousness.

It was 1 am when the last track from half of the album was finally finished. -about the Dan situation- Roger spoke up – don’t let it get to your head that much, love. Give him some time, we could help you out in the meantime. When we first went on tour to support another group, Brian fell awfully sick and we also started to record without him at first. I know exactly how you’re feeling right now. We were scared to death about how we were going to continue without him for quite some time. - He hugged you again, and  it felt like nothing else mattered in this moment. Not the band, nor the unfinished album, not a single thing, only being with him, having his strong arms around your waist, telling you everything was going to be alright.

You broke the hug after you found it to be too long, as you didn’t want things to be awkward, when he was being the sweetest guy. - you’re so strong, dealing with everything, overcoming so much- Roger still held you close, brushing some of your hair out of your face to get a better look at you. - I wish we could have met in other circumstances and I- the moment was interrupted by his ringing phone and he went to get it.

-sorry that was Sarina, she’s in America right now filming a movie, whatever. – he shrugged, knowing that this moment could not be saved anymore.

He noticed a hint of sadness on your face and it made his heart ache, he shouldn’t have said that, but it was his reality, his reality that he was not sure of still being destined to be in. The more time he spent with you, the more wrong it felt  to keep spending time with his wife, when it was supposed to be the other way around. His feelings told him otherwise -Are you going to be here tomorrow? - Roger asked you with a feeling of hope in his chest.

-Well, yeah, we got the studio for the next month, I’m going to be here every day- you answered as he helped you get into your coat.

-perfect- Roger smiled. -how about Chinese takeout tomorrow then? – taglist: @bellamy1998 @oldfashionedlovergirlsblog

[numba99]

The Arrangement Part 8

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 * Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Summary: You’re an aspiring model in NYC who is offered an opportunity of a lifetime - an arranged relationship with a famous Ranger. Things start out rough and are further complicated by the fact that you’re already in a relationship. Will you be able to figure things out or will it all end in disaster? Word Count:2,079

Warnings: none, besides its been v long since the last update (im so sorry LMAO) so if their are minor inconsistencies in the story line I am sORRY I think everything adds up though. And gain we are pretending the media surrounding hockey is a much bigger deal lol

It was a bittersweet day. Sure you were getting to see Mika, something that would always be a bright spot in your day, however it was the last time you were allowed to be together. After tonight, being with him would put both of you in jeopardy. If his contract was anything like yours, he be sued for an obscene amount of money.

You tried to push this thought out of your head as you waited for Fred to arrive to take you on the final date. Tonight you were going to a little rooftop bar in Greenwich Village. It was going to be one of your more public dates, and that’s just how management wanted it.

You were supposed to act like you were upset and be distant from each other. That way when they leaked that the two of you broke up, witnesses would say how unhappy you looked together. It was the perfect set up.

A knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts. You instantly smiled seeing Harry standing on the other side. You would have thrown your arms around him, but he had a giant bouquet of flowers in his hands.

“Here love,” Mika said, handing you the arrangement for pink and purple flowers. It was much bigger than any of the others he has gotten you. “Sorry it’s so big, I didn’t get you any for our last date and I wanted to make up for it,” he explained, as if reading your mind.

“You so don’t have anything you need to make up for,” you gushed, kissing his cheek, “But I love them so much, thanks Mika.” You clutched the flowers to your chest, bring them your kitchen table - which had been bare without his bouquets. When you got back to Mika you hugged him tightly, breathing in his fresh minty scent.

“I missed you too,” he chuckled, teasing you for hugging him like you hadn’t seen him in months.

“Sorry,” you laughed at yourself, “Guess I just can’t get enough of you.”

“Understandable,” Mika winked, “Now let’s head out, don’t wanna keep Fred waiting.”

You walked hand in hand to the car, greeting Fred with a big smile. You were going to miss him, you thought. He was always a friendly face when you needed it. Not to mention, you may have never told Mika how you really without him.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look yet? Because you’re absolutely stunning, the outfit, you hair, everything,” Mika commented. His warm eyes traced your body under the dim car lights.

“Oh, come on, it’s nothing special,” you blushed, never being great with compliments. Plus, your outfit was pretty simple after all: a tailored white blouse, snug blue jeans, and pink heels.

“On the contrary,” Mika replied, “it’s special just because you’re wearing it. I especially love these shoes. I think I’ve got a shirt that color, we should match one day.” You smiled, your heart filling with joy when he spoke of a future with you.

“It’s a date.” Mika squeezed your hand and kissed your cheek. Part of you didn’t want to go anywhere. You’d be happy to just ride around with him for a few hours.Unfortunately that was not part of the plan.

“Here,” Fred announced.

“Let’s do this,” Mika said, taking your hand in his. You walked more confidently through the crowd of photographers. The flashes were still annoying, but they didn’t bother you nearly as much as they did when you were first exposed to them.

“You’re getting good at that,” Mika noted.

“I learned from the best,” you winked. Mika smiled, glad that you were getting over your discomfort with all the paparazzi. He knew that if you two were to stay together, you were going to have to get used to extra attention.

The two of you decided to take the stairs, considering it wasn’t too high up. You were a little breathless when you reached the top - stairs were never really your friend - but it was definitely worth it. It was a beautiful roof top, lined with shrubbery and flowers making it fell more like a garden than a city building.

“This is amazing,” you breathed. It was a perfect night for this too, not a single cloud in the sky. The moon was bright, washing over all the people mingling. The skyline melted into the inky black sky, building lights twinkling like stars.

“It is quite nice, isn’t it?” Mika agreed. The two of you weaved through people, finding a little standing table no one was using. You were surprised no one seemed too interested in Mika, but then again, this bar was a favorite of many famous people so it wasn’t a shock to see someone.

Mika went to get you two drinks, returning with glass in each had. “So, we’re not playing along with this stupid act annoyed shit they want us to do, right?” Mika asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“I’d rather not,” you replied. If it was your last “safe” night with Mika, you didn’t want to spend it acting like you didn’t like him.

“I was thinking we give ‘em hell this last night,” Mika smirked, “They’re going to be pissed at us anyway, might as well have fun with it.” You were about to reply when your ringing phone cut you off. Normally, you wouldn’t answer the phone during a date, but you recognized the number from the Gucci audition.

“Hello?” you answered, nerves filling your body. This could be it.

“Hey y/n, it’s the creative director of the Gucci New York Fashion Week show, do you have a minute?” the woman asked.

“Of course.” You tried to sound nonchalant but there was definitely a hint of excitement in your voice.

“Great, well I am happy to say we have chosen you to be one of the models who walks in our show,” she told you.

“Oh my god, that’s amazing.Thank you so much,” you gushed, unable to act put together. Mika looked at you quizzically, wondering what you were so excited about.

“Of course! We are so excited to be working with you, you really impressive,” she replied.

“That means so much, it’s such an honor to be chosen,” you said. The woman explained she would be in contact in the future about fittings and dress rehearsals. You listened as carefully as you could not wanting to miss anything in your excited state. When you finally hung up, you turned to Mika, squealing with joy.

“What is it love?” he asked.

“I got a spot in the Gucci fashion show!” you exclaimed. Mika’s face lit up. He picked you up and spun you around.

“I’m so proud of you babe,” he smiled, planting kisses all over your face. A couple people in the surrounding area looked over at the two of you. Definitely won’t look like the two of you are fighting.

“I have to thank you for it, I never would have even gotten the opportunity without you,” you replied, so incredibly grateful for him. This was something you’ve dreamed of for so long and could really change your career.

Mika shook his head. “Not me babe, all you. And I can’t wait to be sitting front row watching my beautiful girlfriend on the runway.” Mika moved closer to you, his hands slipping around your waist. “May just have to buy whatever you’re wearing so I can fuck you in it.”

“Mika,” you blushed, “Someone’s gonna hear you.” The rooftop was getting progressively more crowded and he wasn’t exactly being quiet.

“I don’t care,” Mika replied, “I’m sick of not being able to say how I feel. I love you and I want everyone to know. I love you, I love you, I love you.” His voice got louder as he spoke, grabbing the attention of people around you.

Mika took your by the arm, leading you to the edge of the rooftop. He leaned over the edge a bit. He yelled and waved trying to get the attention of the photographers below. Some turned up, cameras flashing, desperate to get photos of the two of you.

“I love this woman! I love this woman so much!” He yelled, giving you a kiss in between.

“You’re crazy,” you laughed as he peppered kisses all over you.

“Just crazy about you,” he smirked.

“Corny ass,” you teased, rolling your eyes.

The two of you had a great rest of the night, dancing and laughing together. You knew there would be hell to pay, but Mika’s carefree attitude was rubbing off on you. In the end, you knew you two would have each other and that made you feel safe.

At the end of the night, the two were headed for the exit, hand in hand. Mika stopped you right before the door. “Wanna go out with a bang?” Harry smirked.

“What do you have in mind?” you asked.

“Just follow my lead,” Mika replied with a wink. You didn’t know what he had in mind, but you were down. You nodded and Mika smiled, leading you through the heavy doors. The flashes were instant and abundant.

“Mika, y/n, over here!”

“How long have you been dating!”

“Mika what were you saying on the roof?”

Harry stopped in the middle of the crowd. The photographers looked on anxiously, waiting for something they could use.

“Y/n and I are in love,” he announced simply. He took you, and dipped you down, kissing you deeply. So dramatic, you thought as he kissed you. But you secretly loved it. Even with your eyes closed you could see the lights going off like crazy. There was no way management wasn’t going to see this.

After a few moments, Mika pulled away and continued to the car. He smiled and waved at cameras, something he didn’t usually do. He was really playing it up.

“You’re so ridiculous,” you laughed as he pulled the car door shut.

“But you love it, don’t you?” he teased.

“Guilty,” you replied, kissing him quickly.

“Fred, you can just take us to my place,” Mika announced, squeezing your thigh. You were excited, having never been to his apartment before. You rested your head on Mika’s shoulder during the drive, suddenly realizing how sleepy you were. You hoped Mika had a comfy pair of sweats for you to change into because you were absolutely sick of these jeans.

“Here we are,” Fred announced, “Before you guys go, I just want to see I’ve really enjoyed driving you two around. Today is supposed to be my last day, but I know it’s definitely not your last day together. Whatever happens, I know you two will get through it. I wish you all the best.”

“That was so sweet,” you gushed, almost feeling like you could cry, “Thank you for everything, really. You’ve been incredible.”

“It was my pleasure, I only ask I get invited to the wedding,” he joked.

“Of course,” Mika chuckled. After a final goodbye the two of you headed out. 

“Jesus,” you gasped, walking into Mika’s place. It was huge, the living room bigger than your entire apartment.

“Oh this old thing?” Mika joked. “If you think this is nice, you should see my place in Sweden.”

“Can we go after this mess is over?” you asked.

“Of course babe,” Mika replied, wrapping his arms around you, “We’re going to go every where together.”

Mika kissed you softly and you felt like you were flying. If you hadn’t been so tired you probably would have gone further, but right now you needed sleep. Plus, you imagined you had a big day ahead of you tomorrow once management caught wind of these pictures.

“How soon do you think we’ll be called in?” You asked Mika as you pulled on one of his tees (he gave you a super comfy pair of sweatpants too, which you were completely jazzed about).

“I’m surprised they haven’t called already,” Mika said, peeling off his clothes, leaving him in just a pair of black boxers. He grabbed your waist, pulling you down onto the bed with him.

“Well whatever happens, at least we’ll go through it together,” you said, snuggling against his side.

“Yeah, you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried,” Mika smiled, kissing your forehead. Nestled together, you both drifted to sleep, worries of what tomorrow would bring far from your mind.

[banditthewriter]

Best You Ever Had - Billy Russo - 2

Feels good to be posting again! Here you go, part two!

Future parts will have trigger warnings. Feel free to shoot me a message or ask off anon if you have questions or concerns!

Tags are at the bottom. Let me know if you would like to be added to one of my tag lists! Enjoy!

*****

The relationship hadn't fizzled out, despite what you told your friends and relatives. You'd told them that you save face.

No, your relationship with Billy Russo had gone out with a bang.

And now you were being forced to work with him? Not just that, but to work closely with him? Events like these meant being attached at the hip with the security people.

The only person besides you and Billy that knew what happened was your father. He had been there as you cried and screamed. He had watched you silently fume. He watched you throw yourself into your work.

He knew what the fallout had caused and yet he was willing to put aside petty grievances to work with him?

Petty grievances?!

You took a deep breath to control your rage. You wanted to scream. You wanted to march into your father's office and ask him—demand that he tell you what about your broken heart was petty?

Could you work long hours with Billy without wanting to kill him? Or worse, without crying?

You'd have to. You didn't have a choice.

Hopefully Billy would be kind enough to pretend the two of you had never met. Obviously you hadn't meant anything to him while you were together. It was doubtful that that would have changed.

------

Billy tugged you closer, his lips moving across yours at just the right angle to make you gasp.

“You are going to make us late,” you panted breathlessly against his lips even as his hands went to your thighs.

“We’ll tell them that traffic is backed up. We’ll tell them we were caught in traffic.”

You moaned as he spread your legs, his hand working its way up your skirt.

“He has that traffic app. He's just crazy enough to check to make sure.”

Billy pulled back just a hair before he grinned.

“I could tell him that I got distracted by his sexy as hell daughter,” he joked as he trailed kiss after kiss across your neck and chest.

“Don't even joke about that.” You gasped when he tugged on the strap of your shirt, his lips moving to your cleavage. “Fuck it. We can come up with an excuse later.”

His laughter was swallowed by your lips as you tugged him in for a deep kiss.

-----

You made sure your office was clean and straightened. Honestly you'd spent more time making sure your office was presentable than you had on making sure you were ready for Billy to be in your office.

So when he walked in, you were faced with the striking reminder that he was a beautiful man. You'd been startled by his presence before but this? This felt like an attack on you.

“Mr Russo,” you greeted finally as you motioned for him to come in. “You can leave the door open. This should only take a few minutes.”

He raised an eyebrow before he shut the door with a click. Then he moved over to your desk and had a seat. He unbuttoned his jacket and leaned back, making himself as comfortable as could be.

Had you loved his laissez faire attitude before? That was definitely in the past.

“I had some questions about the sleeping arrangements,” he said as he shifted in his seat, pulling the folder up to flick through it. “I'm going to need at least three more rooms since I'm bringing a covert team as well.”

That drew you up short.

“There wasn't anything about a covert team,” you said with a shake of your head. You had vetoed that in preference to having a more obvious presence.

“Your father wrote it into the contract that I signed yesterday because of recent threats made against multiple of the senators and one of the business leaders that will be at the conference.”

You tried to keep your face neutral but you knew you had failed.

“I suppose your dad had forgotten to mention that to you? Just like he forgot to mention that he'd reached out to me a few days ago.”

A few days ago? You released the pen to keep from snapping it in your anger.

“I am running point on this conference Mr Russo, so all future changes need to start here. I'll go ahead and get three more rooms since there's a need for an increased presence at the hotel.”

Billy nodded after a moment. He pulled a paper from his folder and passed it over to you.

“I took the liberty of going over the blueprints of the hotel as well. Here are my suggestions of security presence.”

You looked it over with a nod, eyes barely registering the marks on the page.

“I'll defer to your expertise on that,” you said as you stood up and went to the scanner in your office. “I want to do a dry run before the people start to arrive. Will you be able to have all of your guys at the hotel tomorrow morning at five?”

You'd just finished scanning the prints. When you turned, Billy wasn't looking at you. He was staring at the books on your shelf.

You scanned them before you froze. In the middle of them all was a book Billy had brought you from one of his overseas trips. It had designs from some of the most famous tourist spots around the world.

The two of you had planned a world tour by that book, but things had fallen apart before it came to be.

“Mr Russo,” you snapped as you held the paper out for him.

“You don't have to call me that,” he said evenly as he took the papers back. “I think after all this time, you can call me Billy.”

How dare he. How dare he reference the time you two had spent together. The time you wasted on a man incapable of love.

“If it was up to me, I wouldn't call you anything.”

You were not proud of how cold your voice was, but you did get a guilty joy from seeing Billy flinch at your words.

“If that's all, Mr Russo?”

He cleared his throat and stood up with a quick nod.

“I'll see you at five,” he said as he excused himself.

Alone in your office, you shut the door and went back to your chair. Your eyes strayed to the book that you hadn't touched in almost a year.

You should have thrown it away but for some reason you couldn't.

Maybe one day.

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