#and a couple more business casual pants that are old or don’t fit or were a mistake from the jump

[bunkerbucky]

Casual Sabotage *Bucky Barnes x Reader*

Reader is hit with sex pollen. Except she doesn't crave her boyfriend, Steve Rogers. No, it's his best friend, Bucky Barnes, that she wants inside of her. Bucky, in the beginning, is a good bro and refuses. But due to the fact she sucks his dick so good he kinda, sorta, loses that restraint and just fucks her regardless of who she belongs to.

Rating: Explicit [+18]

Warnings: Sex pollen= Dub-Con, Rough Sex, Rough blow-job, rough oral-sex, vaginal sex, praise kink, breeding kink, size kink- Bucky has a big dick in this lmao, choking and biting kink, infidelity; Reader cheats on Steve. 

TW: Dub-con- Reader is under sex pollen, so she actually cannot give consent and also because Bucky is so resistant in the beginning. It turns consensual on Bucky's part, he gives in to the temptation. But, obviously, reader is still influenced so... the lines are blurred.

Yourself and Bucky had searched the Hydra base from tippy-top to bottom. There was nothing out of the ordinary, which infuriated you a little. With the amount of recon work you both had to do, the long nights of watching the agents coming and going, you felt like you both deserved a small win, at least.

A long sigh escaped from your lips as Bucky's fingers typed furiously on the computers keyboard, a USB stick in hand just in case he found something exciting. Your arms were crossed over your chest, eyes scanning around the bases' security room, roaming the shelves and cabinets that held nothing of importance. A week of nothing, you wanted to cry.

"Hmm," Bucky low hum attracted your attention, "It says there's a basement to this building, we haven't checked that out." His steel eyes look over the screen and at you, you respond with a shrug of your shoulders. "We've got two hours before the cavalry arrives to pick us up, let's explore and see if we can obtain something to keep from Rogers from complainin'"

You giggle slightly at Bucky's comment, nodding in agreement with him. Steve would have a lot to say if you went back empty-handed, especially since he sent you both rather than himself. But you couldn't lie and say the thought of seeing Steve after so long didn't excite you. You had missed your boyfriend dearly, you weren't allowed on missions together since finally making things official. Work ethics and all that jazz.

Instead, you and Bucky had started to partner up, Steve didn't trust anyone but himself, and Bucky, to keep an eye out for you. Who better to watch over his best girl than his best friend, plus Bucky was your friend before you got with Steve.

"What if we go down there and there's a great, big monster waiting for us?" Sliding into the small elevator beside Barnes.

Bucky looked down at you with a raised eyebrow, "Then I'll be throwing you out as a distraction, so I can press the elevator door button to leave."

You both ended up laughing at his response, although when the doors finally did open and reveal a darkened basement layer... there was a moment of silence, you both side-eyeing one another at the lack of sound and movement.

Bucky stepped off first and the automatic lighting triggered him to pull his gun from its holster, his reflexes sharp and fast. You step off and follow Bucky down the hall towards double doors, the room through those doors was abandoned and huge. Desks with old computers, all smashed and out of use. Stacks of files and paper scattered on desks and the floor. Despite the mess, it all looks really promising, there had to be something amongst the chaos.

You both separate to cover more ground, you only had a limited time before you had to leave. You looked through paper and files, shuffling through stacks of meaningless bullshit. Hydra certainly kept a record of everything, including all the worthless crap. You wondered if they actually printed this stuff to lead you guys on wild goose chases like this, to make sure you were distracted with searching for something important amongst all their bullshit.

You ended up in the far back of the room, a small desk area had random empty vials littered across it. Files labelled in Russian, that you couldn't translate very well.

"Hey, Buck," You called over your shoulder as you lifted an empty vial, a cork tightly shoved in the top; curious. "Think I might've found something."

The vial itself was black, not black liquid, the vial was just black. It didn't feel weighted, it didn't feel like anything was moving inside of it. So, curiosity got the best of you because you yanked the cork off the vial. Black smoke puffed out and into your face causing you to inhale and go into a coughing fit. Waving your arms in front of your face, coughing at the inhalation of whatever was inside that vial.

It smelt like... old leather, peppermint toothpaste and...something else, like a deep musk. Odd.

"Hey, are you okay?" Bucky suddenly appeared at your side, a hand placed on your back and eyeing you with concern. He then grabbed the vial from your hand, it was clear and no longer black. "What happened?"

Your coughing had subsided, you felt fine. "I think there was some kind of smoke or whatever in there, I don't know. The black stuff just burst out, I was stupid-"

"Damn, right." Bucky looked mad, which was a given. "Hydra is known for making gas poisons, Y/N. That was a rookie move, never open strange vials." He didn't sound too mad at you, a little more concerned and worried.

You nodded, frowning when feeling the back of your neck sweating. You felt... hot. A sweat was taking over your body, your mouth was getting dry and your mind was going fuzzy. Bucky hadn't noticed, his eyes cast down to the Russian files on the desk, his hand flipping through the old pages and taking the information in with wide eyes. You briefly wondered if whatever is written in that file had anything to do with that vial.

"Fuck," Bucky muttered.

"What?" Your throat was scratchy, your breathing was becoming laboured and your palms were sweaty.

You didn't feel hot, though. You didn't feel sick either.

"Well, I'm guessing whatever was in that vial was... to put it plainly, sex pollen. It makes the patient unable to think of anything but sex, all they want and all they feel is lust. It's basically either used to breed or on prisoners- the pain of not getting off thoroughly enough can lead to the patient taking extreme measures: death." He shakes his head, you don't notice the horrified look In his eyes at the thought of maybe it being used on him when under Hydra's control. "You're likely fine, though."

"I wouldn't be so sure," You managed to gasp out, your thighs squeezing together and eyes closed, you wanted to feel embarrassed but you couldn't. "My head is spinning and, fuck, I need to get this off. I feel too hot, I'm burnin' up." Clawing at the collar of your own tact suit, your hands were shaking and you couldn't bring yourself to look at Bucky.

You wanted to look at him though. You knew he was standing close to you because you could smell him, he smelt like the black smoke did. He smelt delicious, intoxicating in the best way. God, you wanted him so badly. You needed him.

"It's going to be okay, Y/N. I promise, we'll get you back to Steve and he can-"

You shook your head and finally pulled the zipper down of your jacket, shrugging the bulletproof material off your shoulders.

"Need you." You managed to mumble out, lifting your gaze to Bucky, who was frowning and shaking his head. "Please, Buck. I need you! I can feel my skin crawling and-I'm in so much pain, please." Your voice a mix between a whine and beg.

"I can't- you're not thinking properly. Steve will be here soon and he can help you, he's your boyfriend, remember?"

You pulled the black, tight sleeved henley from your body and let it drop to the floor, it covered in sweat. You're standing in a sports bra and tact pants, chest heaving as you try to intake gulps of oxygen from your panting. Even with half your clothes off you still felt sweat bead and drip down your skin.

"I can't wait that long," You sniffled but no tears forming. "Please, I want you-I've always wanted you. You read the file, I'm going to die!"

Bucky continued to shake his head. "I won't do that Steve. It says that it took a couple of hours till that point, Steve'll be here soon and I'll explain to him what happened."

You groaned painfully, shaking your own head now. Not understanding why he couldn't just help you now. You were in immense pain and the throbbing heat in your core wasn't letting up.

You didn't want Steve to help you. You didn't need Steve to help you, it wasn't just because he wasn't here. You wanted Bucky. The smell of him, the heat radiating off his body when it was close to yours. You craved for him to touch you, to fuck you. You were sure the moment he touched you that the pain would ease, the flames that were consuming you would simmer down.

And you were certain that he wanted you too.

Taking the initiative you moved closer to Bucky, the short hairs on the back of your neck were drenched in sweat, you could feel it drip down your back. You placed a hand softly on his metal arm, the cool vibranium instantly cooling you down. Bucky let out a shaky breath and looked at you, eyebrows furrowing together as he took in your features. You were sure you could see the fight in his eyes, he wanted to help you. To touch you.

It was frustrating that he wasn't giving in. That he wasn't falling to his desires.

"I won't tell Steve, I promise." You whispered and pressed a kiss to his collar, inhaling his scent and shuddering when it filled your senses. He wasn't pushing you away, but he also wasn't giving in to touching you back. "It can be our little secret. I know you'll make me feel really good, he won't be able to help me like you can."

Her other hand trailed down his chest and stopped at his belt, Bucky was too busy telling her everything he had already been saying. Telling you how you love Steve and Steve loves you. It would break Steve's heart if he found out about this talk from you if he knew what you were saying to Buck. You didn't care, not right now anyway. You had always found Bucky attractive and before getting with Steve you had entertained the thought of Bucky, but he was just getting back his life. A relationship seemed too much for him, well that's what you thought.

You didn't settle for Steve, that was never the case. You love Steve, you know that. But, right now, here with Bucky, you knew that he'd be able to help you with this- more than Steve could. Steve was a peaceful lover, an attentive one. You needed this illness fucked out of you- at least, that's what your hazy brain was telling you.

Your hand slipped under his belt, a wide grin taking over your face at Bucky's shock, words choking out as you wrapped a hand around his dick. A sense of pride coming over you as he began to get hard in your hand, a few quick jerks as started to undo his pants with your free hand. Bucky was stunned into silence and compliance, unable to stop you just from the fact he hadn't been touched like this in a while.

He came to his senses when you noticed you get to your knees, his pants undone and pulled down his muscular thighs. Bucky slapped your hands away and tries to pull his pants back up, but you were putting up quite the fight. You roughly pushed him back, he ended up falling to the ground due to his pants restricting his movements. In the moments he fell down and was trying to figure out what happened, you had pulled down his boxers and gulped dryly at his semi-hard length.

"You're so big," You mumbled before wrapping your lips around the tip, a loud groan echoed through the room from Bucky.

You could feel him growing inside of your mouth as you tried to take more of him down, slobbering up his dick and licking around the shaft. Pulling off to run your tongue around the veins and down to his balls, gently suckling them into your mouth as you jerked his length till it was fully standing erect. You smirked to yourself at all of the noises Bucky was making, a hand being placed on your hair- which normally you hated Steve's hand in your hair, but you'd allow Bucky this time.

"Fuck my throat," spit was around your mouth and down your chin, "fuck my throat with your big cock."

Bucky's eyes were wide and lust-filled, there was still a hesitancy from him. A dilemma going on in that head of his, so you wrapped your lips around his cock again and started to slowly take him down. He was bigger than Steve, so much bigger, but that only spurred you on. You wanted him to roughly fuck your throat, you wanted to feel him at the back of your throat even after this.

You felt both his hands on your head... he started to push your head further down, the tip hit the back of your throat and you still hadn't taken all of him. He started to ease past your limitations, your eyes filled with tears as he stuffed your mouth impossibly full. Your lips stretched wide around his girth, he could feel your throat constrict around him and the slight gag you couldn't help because of how far he was down your throat.

"Fuck, so good." Bucky groaned lowly, eyes completely black and bottom lip trapped between his teeth. You knew your panties were soaking, a slickness collecting on your thighs as you rubbed them together, the flimsy material of your underwear was sticking to you and making you rub yourself just to alleviate the friction. "I'll deal with your pussy in second, right now I'm going to fill this hole up."

It was like Bucky snapped, the trepidation he was feeling before was long gone. It was now replaced with this new Bucky, and you loved him.

He wasn't merciful when he started to thrust in and out of your mouth, his balls were slapping against your chin harshly. The grip in your hair was harsh as he pushed and pulled your head to meet his hard thrusts, your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as he basically skull fucked you. Loud gagging sounds, your throat squeezing his cock as you fought for air, he only eased up when you looked like you were going to pass out. It was seconded worth of air before he repeated his onslaught, spit and cum was dribbling down your chin and onto your chest and sportsbra. Bucky kept his eyes on you, it made you shiver how he was looking at you.

Bucky didn't warn you when he was about to cum, instead, he held your head down, almost shoving his entire cock down your throat as loads of his cum spurted out and shot straight down your throat into your tummy. You hardly tasted his cum because of how far he was down your throat. He groaned as he came, swallowing thrusting his hips into your mouth as he milked his orgasm. He pulled you off his cock, it was still hard, thankfully.

He helped pull you to your feet then undressed you, roughly pulling the sports bra off your chest and yanking your pants down your legs. He ripped your panties to shreds and let the tattered pieces fall to the floor, his hungry gaze took in your shaking, naked form. Your thighs were glistening from your arousal and it was still leaking from your pussy, hardly any attention to it made you needy and wishing to be stuffed full.

"Turn around." The authority in his voice made you shiver.

You turned around and felt Bucky place a hand on your shoulder, bending you over the desk where you found the vial. The pieces of paper clinging to your sweaty skin and making you keen into his touch more. He kicked your feet further apart, a hand tickling the insides of your thighs and collecting your sweet juices. Expecting to feel fingers prodding around your entrance, instead, you felt a firm tongue lick from clit to fluttering hole, it dipping inside and collecting the juices wanting to leak out of you.

Your mouth fell open into a silent scream, his tongue was exploring so far into your pussy, his hands gripped your cheeks apart so he could push further inside of you. Tongue fucking you so roughly and expertly, your eyes almost went crossed out from the feeling. You didn't know you could be tongue fucked this good, but Bucky just lived to prove you wrong. The slurping sounds and moans from the man behind you, he lifted and bent your knee to rest on the table; opening you up further for his trained tongue.

"You're gonna have to let me have a taste of this everyday from now on, baby." Bucky groaned against your pussy, mouth closing around your clit as he sucked harshly, your mouths drowning out his own. "Taste so good," the tip of his tongue running figure eights on your engorged clit.

Bucky must've stayed between your legs for minutes, but it felt like hours. He pulled two back-to-back orgasms from you, only using his tongue. When he was done eating your pussy, he stood up and draped himself over your back, an arm wrapping around your neck as he breathed heavily into your ear. You could feel his cock nudge up against your pussy, sliding and coating himself in your juices.

"You ready for me?" You whined your response, trying to push yourself back against him but his arm tightened around your throat- not restricting your airflow. "Think your little pussy can take my dick, dolly?" You nodded in a rush, needing it inside of you otherwise you was going to die. "I've got you," The tip nudges against your entrance and began to push inside, the stretch was painful but welcoming. "Daddy's got you."

Your pussy fluttered around his length, the more he pushed his thick length in the more you moaned. He wasn't even half-way in when you started to babble about how he was too big for you, how he wouldn't fit inside of you. That only made Bucky want to prove you wrong, want to prove that you were made to take him. He started to thrust shallowly, rocking his length in and out of you, impaling you on him more whenever he pushed forward.

Once he was fully sheathed inside of you, he stopped and remained inside of your tight, heat for a moment. Relishing in the way you were split open around his cock, your walls were spasming around him and he was having a hard time not cumming on the spot. You felt so tight, so warm and wet around him, suddenly envious that Steve got to have you all the time. But he was planning on ruining you, to make sure the next time you fucked Steve it wouldn't feel as good.

He was going to fuck you so hard, so deep that you'd be wishing Steve was this big.

"Hang on, baby." That was the only warning you got.

Bucky started to pummel inside of you, his thrusts were hard and fast, his cock was kissing your cervix. You really could only just lay there and take it, your mouth open as moans were ripped from you, eyes rolling back as he kept impaling his girth inside of you. He was hitting spots so deep you knew you'd be feeling him for days afterwards, you'd be walking with limp and sore, it was worth it.

The way he was fucking you, it was as if he had something to prove.

The sound of skin slapping skin, his grunts and groans right beside your ear. His arm around your neck, clenching and cutting your airflow off at times, had you cumming within seconds and he still didn't let up. He didn't stop and fucked you through your third orgasm.

Your mind was starting to come down from the pollen, the pain and fever you were feeling had gone. Replaced now with pleasure and pain, a mix you didn't think you were into but now couldn't get enough of. All you could think and feel was Bucky Barnes. This was no longer the effects of the pollen anymore, this was pure you and riding on the afterglow of Bucky fucking you like you needed.

"Harder." You mumbled through heavy pants, tilting your head to look at him over your shoulder.

A smirk crossed his features, metal arm holding your hip in a bruising grip. Complying with your order and snapping his hips hard into your heat, grinding his hips against yours before pulling back out and repeating. It causes your back to arch, pressing your pussy back against his thrusts with little mewls leaving your lips.

"Kiss me." You plead breathlessly.

Bucky doesn't falter with that demand either. Draping himself over your body again and pressing his plump lips against yours, the kiss is far more gentle than his thrusts, but it still has you moaning against him. He was kissing you like you was fragile, yet fucking you like you were some kind of sex toy that he was using just to jerk off into. It was making your head spin and your pussy needy for more.

"You gonna come again?" Bucky chuckled against your ear, you nodded sharply and cried in pleasure when he bit your shoulder, cumming on the spot when his teeth dug into your flesh. "Mm'good girl." He mumbled as he licked at the tender spot, you could feel his hips stuttering their pace.

"Cum in me." You grinned and he cursed lowly, eyes squeezing shut. "Want you to fill me up, daddy. Fuckin' fuck a baby into me, fill me up."

The arm around your neck was pulled away, hand splaying across your back as he started to thrust into you in tight, fast and hard thrusts. Using your body to seek his own pleasure now, you were biting your lip at the thought of him filling you up. Not even caring if he actually did knock you up, you needed his cum inside of you.

Bucky found his end after a few careful thrusts, warm ropes of his seed filling you up and then some, he filled you up so much that it started to seep out around his cock. He groaned at the mess he made inside of you, he carefully pulled out of your abused cunt to see your hole clenching, trying to keep his creamy load inside of yourself. He had to look away because if he kept staring he'd get hard again, he didn't think you could take another round or load.

You remained bent over the desk and trying to catch your breath, his human hand was rubbing comforting circles on your back. Before you or Bucky could say something a buzzing sound captured both of your attention, it was coming from Bucky's pant pocket. He left you to retrieve his phone, eyes scanning over the device for a moment before he looked at you.

"Steve is waiting at the extraction point for us," You nodded mutely and you both got dressed in mutual silence.

He helped you to look presentable, ignoring the fingerprint bruise on your hip and the obvious bite mark on your shoulder. You were unsure how to explain any of that to Steve, you were also unsure how to explain what happened to Bucky. Obviously, you had still had those feelings for him, right? Otherwise, you would have been able to wait for Steve, it was like all sense of self-control had left you and only Bucky remained in your mind.

As you both left the base in awkward silence, treking the five miles towards the extraction zone, you wondered if you would have craved for Bucky if you was with Steve. If after all this time it was Bucky and not Steve you wanted.

All you knew was that Bucky had ruined you. You could still feel the impression of him inside of you, the way he had so deliciously stretched you open and impaled you on him. The way he had roughly fucked your throat like it was nothing but a hole to get off into. He had fucked you, in more ways than one.

(Please, let me know what you think! I’m also taking requests too! Honestly, kinda wanna write a part 2 where Reader tries to have sex with Steve but fakes her orgasm just to go to Bucky... I’m a bad person, I just think Bucky would be better than Steve tbh lol~ Lilith)

[the7thcrow]

indulgence | part one

~

pairing: felix x (fem) vampire!reader series

summary: an indulgence grows to become dangerous, as the society of hampden college takes note of y/n’s new blood bag.

series masterlist.

word count: 4.9k

genre: forbidden love, angst (sorta), fluff, suggestive.

warnings: blood, suggestive content (kissing and a shirt comes off, nothing too crazy lmao), hook-ups (but nothing is explicitly described), strong language, and vampires ofc.

rating: 16+

a/n: hi everyone! this is my first fic, so i’m sorry if it’s a little messy. this is part one of what will be a series. i’d love to hear some feedback, so don’t be afraid to shoot me an ask or message! i hope you enjoy!

...

..

.

You are late. The pattering of rain echos from atop your umbrella, the puddles of pooling water soaking your loafers as you hurry along the busy street. However, you pay no mind as the liquid seeps into your shoes, mud embedding itself along your pant leg. On a normal day, you’d scowl. You’d curse the shitty weather, and grumble as you marched home to change into a dry pair of shoes. Only today is different. Today it doesn’t matter, not when you have far greater troubles warranting your concern.

The Council isn’t pleased. They’d be even more upset, if that were even possible, if you arrived tardy. You can imagine their old, petulant faces, looking down on you with disgust. Perhaps even pity, seeing you as nothing more than a childish young girl, who’d been foolish enough to break her vow. You frown to yourself, that’s all they would ever see you as. It didn’t matter how the years passed by, to them you were, and would always be simply that. A child. Always younger, always naive. Most of all, always beneath them.

The headquarters becomes visible in the distance, clouded in the slight haze of fog. It appears to be like any other building on the Hampden Campus. Old and rustic, elegant in the way it was shaped and carved, a relic of history reflected in a modern day era. Only this building holds a far different tale than those surrounding it.

Far more bloody. Far more gruesome. A home to monsters.

Monsters like yourself.

You knock on the door. Twice, slowly. Then a pause, before three times quickly. A code, letting anyone inside know that you are, in fact, a member of The Society. 

The door opens with a creak, a young boy with electric blue hair peeking out through the crack. After recognizing your face, he smiles, ushering you in quickly as the door slams shut behind you.

“Y/N! It’s good to see you. It’s been a while, huh?” The boy says, casually leaning against the door. It has been a while, you never came to this god awful building unless it was absolutely necessary.

“I guess it has been. But it’s nice to see you too, Jeongin,” you speak warmly in return. You’ve known Jeongin for a couple years now, since he first arrived at The Society doorstep. Alone and confused. A freshling, having just been turned. While perhaps not physically, he’s certainly grown since then, in both confidence and courage.

Suddenly, the smile drops from his face, his expression becoming sullen. “I hear you’ve gotten yourself into some trouble,” he states. When you don’t respond, he continues. “It’s not true, is it? I know you wouldn’t-”

“Listen, Jeongin,” you cut him off quickly. You aren’t in the mood to be lectured, especially not by someone whose opinion you actually care about. “I’m already running late. I’ll catch up with you after, okay?”

“Wait, Y/N!” He calls after you, but you’ve already disappeared down the hall, heading towards the council room. You quickly cast a glance at your watch. Shit, five minutes late. They wouldn’t forget that.

With only a quick breath to gather yourself, you burst in through the large wooden doors. The silence in the council room is deafening, as all heads turn to face you. In all your life, you’ve never seen so many dissatisfied faces. 

“Ms. L/N,” the head councilman calls. He has an old face, embedded with wrinkles and a scalp of thinning white hair. Unlucky. He could have been beautiful, or at the very least, young. However, he must’ve been turned late. A pity, to stare at such a reflection for eternity. 

You stifle a laugh. The frown he always appeared to be wearing probably wasn’t helping. 

“Take a seat,” he states, motioning to the chair seated in the center of the room. How dramatic you think, to put you in the middle of so many staring eyes. While the council was only composed of three individuals, the room seems to be full of other lower ranked members of The Society. 

As you take your seat, your gaze wanders the room, landing on a familiar head of shaggy brown hair. His eyes bore into your own, his expression serious. Perhaps even angry, the longer he stares at you. 

You want to say something. Mostly, to ask him what the fuck he’s doing here. This isn’t any of Chan’s business, yet for whatever reason he has the audacity to stare at you as if it is. As if you will grant him answers. As if he deserves answers.

“Ms. L/N,” the chairman interrupts your thoughts. “Do you know why you’re seated here today?” 

Why are you seated here today? Well, that answer is complicated. How could you have possibly gotten yourself into such a mess? How could you have been so foolish? You knew the rules. You knew what was permitted and what was not. Yet, you chose to ignore these conditions.

Why? What could possibly have made you toss everything you’d promised to the side? 

Well, that story starts with a head of bright blonde hair, and a set of curious eyes.

~~~~

The library of Hampden College had become something of a second home to you. Late nights spent bent over a book, transcribing various philosophies and literature into latin. Sometimes greek, however you didn’t have quite the same knack for it. That’s where you found yourself tonight, your beaten down copy of The Iliad staring back at you from its place on the table. 

Your classics degree was coming along just fine. You didn’t mind the endless books to read and poems to analyze. Nor the papers you often found yourself crafting from this very spot in the corner of the library. It was always quiet, always solitary at this time. Even the night owl students having gathered their books, departing the library for a brief rest before their early classes the following morning.

Tonight however, was different. You heard the door creak open, glancing up as a boy appeared in the doorway. He had long blonde hair, fluffing at the nape of his neck. Sporting a sharp blazer and a pair of oxfords, you couldn’t deny he was well dressed. Perhaps that’s why he grabbed your attention immediately, you were attracted to effort. To someone who was put together, who cared. 

The boy took a seat just a few tables away from your own, gently setting his books down and disappearing into the maze of shelves to your left. You attempted to go back to your work, but couldn’t seem to find your focus. Who was this boy? You’d never seen him before in all your time at Hampden. Also, why would he possibly be at the library so late? You recognized the faces of those who while rare, might possibly be here at this time of night. He wasn’t one of them. 

You would remember if he was.

You strained your neck trying to find his figure, having lost him almost immediately.

“A fan of Homer?” A voice rang out from beside your ear. You jumped in shock, greeted by a sweet smile and wide eyes. The boy chuckled. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

You smiled sweetly, trying to calm your beating heart. “No worries. And well, you translate the entirety of Book Eight overnight into Greek, and tell me if you could still consider yourself a ‘fan of Homer.’”

The boy laughed before beginning to pull a chair out beside you. “May I?” He asked.

Looking back, you should have said no. You had a lot more work to do, and near no time to do it. Not to mention of course, rejecting him initially could have saved you from this whole mess. Instead you nodded, a grin forming at the corners of your lips as he sat down. 

“What’s your name?” He asked. His voice was sweet, sultry. Alarming in just how deep it was, not quite fitting his bright and youthful exterior. 

“Y/N, classics department. Yourself?”

“Felix,” he answered. There it was, the first time you heard the name that would cause your undoing. “I’m majoring in history. Listen,” he began, leaning in slightly closer as if he were going to tell you a secret, his voice lowering further. “I must say, I’m in here all the time, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.”

You hummed, leaning in closer to him as well. His eyes glinted. “Well that’s simple, I’m assuming you don’t frequent the library at-” you glanced at your watch- “2:32 in the morning.”

Felix’s eyebrows furrowed with something like concern. “You’re here every night at this time? Why?”

“Hey,” you began, not wanting to lose the playful nature to the conversation. You’d heard enough concerned voices to last a lifetime already. “Aren’t you here this late yourself? You’re in no place to judge.”

He laughed, and you knew you could get used to that sound. “Fair enough, I’ll leave it be.”

“Why are you here this late, anyway?” You asked.

“Oh, so you get to know my secrets, but I can’t know yours?”

“Of course.”

He rolled his eyes playfully, resting his head on the desk, cradled by his crossed arms. “If you must know, I couldn’t sleep. Figured I’d read some of your classics, thought they might help me doze off.”

You shoved his arm, to which he feigned a groan of pain, clutching his shoulder. “Excuse you,” you laughed. “I have a lot of Homer to struggle through, and no time for your cheap shots. You can go ahead and leave now.”

You were surprised when he got to his feet, worried for a moment he’d taken you seriously and was actually about to make his exit. Instead, he disappeared into the philosophy section, emerging with a copy of The Odyssey. Felix flopped down back in his chair beside you, extending his feet on top of the table and leaning backwards. 

“Well, then I guess I’ll suffer along with you,” he said. Without another word, he flipped towards the first page.

Felix was a good person to study with. Well, technically you weren’t studying with him, but nonetheless it was nice to have him in the room. He didn’t bother you, didn’t speak, just let you do your work. Sometimes you’d look up and meet his gaze, his eyes imploring you. Curious. Mischievous. 

Dangerous.

“Alright,” you yawned after an hour or so had passed by, stretching your arms high in the air. “I’m done.”

He smiled, slowly closing his book and setting it down on the table. “Yeah? Finally going to go home and sleep?” 

“Sleep? What’s that?” You said, playfully scoffing. “Nah, it’s already past 3:30, it’ll be 4 by the time I get back to my apartment. Not worth it at this point.”

“Hmm,” Felix hummed, a flicker of mischief in his growing smile. “What ever will you do to pass the time?”

“I don’t know,” you returned, excitement building in your chest. “But I suppose I’ll leave you now. You still have about 3 quarters of The Odyssey to get through, and I don’t want to tear you away from-”

You shouldn’t have been surprised when his lips crashed into yours, but you were. You let out a small “mff” against the sudden impact. It took your brain a second to catch up to speed on what was happening. Here you were, with this incredibly beautiful boy of whom you literally just met, kissing in the middle of the library. 

Your second thought was about how you’d never done this before. Not kissing someone, hell you’d done a lot more than just that. But never a stranger, and certainly never a human, for that matter. You had to be careful with who you got close to, you never knew who could be dangerous, who could be a hunter. Besides, The Society had rules, and this alone was undoubtedly breaking a few of them.

So what the hell were you doing?

You should stop this, you thought. But the more you settled into a rhythm, the more your worries trailed from your mind. Felix was a good kisser. A really good kisser. His lips were soft, warm, his breath sharp with the taste of mint. When the dork had a chance to pop a tic tac you didn’t know, but it made you smile against him. 

You ran your fingers through his hair, leaning into him. He groaned in response, moving his hands down your figure, settling in on your waist. Carefully he began to fiddle with the buttons at the bottom of your blouse, and with that it all suddenly became real.

“We can’t do this,” you breathed, finally breaking away from him. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I went too far, I-” he began to apologize, frantically removing his hands from your body and shifting backwards into his chair.

“No,” you replied, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips at his sweetness. You grabbed the collar of his shirt, gently tugging him closer to you. “We can’t do this here.” 

The Society had rules, plenty. Human’s, in any sort of relationship, were out of the question. Public displays of affection with even your own kind, especially of the more vulgar sort, were off limits as well. The idea was to not bring attention to yourselves, to not cause a scene. And if you were going to break one of these rules so terribly, you figured you could at least pay the respect to do so privately.

“Okay,” he mumbled, placing his forehead against your own. “Where should we go?”

“My place? It’s a little far from here, but I don’t have any roommates. So..”

Felix smiled, planting a soft, lingering kiss at the nape of your neck. “Lead the way.”

~~~~

The walk over to your apartment wasn’t awkward per say, it was simply...charged. Felix had his arm looped around your own, making your way silently down the dark, lantern lit path through campus. You could feel your heart beating rapidly in your chest, a desire thrumming down inside you, resurfacing. It had been a long time since you’d last been with someone. That last person being Chan, your ex as of eight months ago.

Things had been good with Chan. Great even, in the beginning at least. He was intense, thoughtful. He loved you deeply. Most of all, Chan understood. Like you, he was a member of The Society. He was under every restriction you were, and felt all the same frustrations. 

Of course, not all good things can last. Eventually your relationship began to sour. Your arguments became full on brawls. Your differences and quirks became unbearable. You couldn’t be in the same room without being at one another's throats. You were the one who finally decided to end things. 

Chan was the only man you’d ever loved, and since him you’d never entertained the thought of being with another. Until now, that is. You glanced towards Felix, who was staring ahead down the street, his eyes dark. You could feel his own desire radiating off of him, visible in the way he slowly swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing. Besides, Felix could give you something more. Something Chan could never.

No. You stopped yourself. That wouldn’t be happening tonight. It would only make things more complicated, more dangerous. Still, you could feel it deep inside you, pounding for control. That familiar, incessant hunger. The more you tried to ignore it, the more it was there. Becoming stronger as your ears focused in on Felix’s heart beat, the sound of blood pumping through his veins.

You were pulled from your thoughts as the sight of your apartment complex appeared in front of you. Quietly you entered, making your way up the stairs and towards your own door. Releasing your arm from Felix’s, you fumbled for your keys in your purse. Giving him a small smile, you twisted your key in the lock, and allowed him inside.

The moment you closed your apartment door, all bets were off. Felix tossed his books onto your kitchen table, clashing into you with a speed that almost made you lose your own breath. You felt your back press against the wall behind you, Felix’s lips devouring your own. Desperate and wanting.

He quickly revisited the buttons of your blouse, this time starting at the top and beginning to make his way down. All the meanwhile his lips traced your neck, gently brushing against your skin. With every new kiss fueling your own desire, you slowly began to rock your hips into his own. This was escalating. Fast. As he finished with the last button, he allowed your blouse to drop from your shoulders, smiling to himself as he took you in. 

“Your turn,” you breathed, tugging at the collar of his shirt as a signal to take it off. He did so, absent-mindedly tossing it aside into your living room. He took your chin in his hand, forcing you to look up at him, staring deeply into your eyes. Then he proceeded to say the very last thing you ever expected him to:

“Look at your eyes… You haven’t fed in weeks, have you?”

You slapped his hand away and shoved him off of you, rushing to the otherside of the room, putting the coffee table between yourselves. “How-How do you?” You stammered, physically unable to form a complete sentence. How could he possibly know what you were? How did he even know you existed?

Felix’s eyes widened, clearly shocked by your reaction. “No, no. Don’t worry!” He said frantically, outstretching his hand to you. “Listen, I’m not going to hurt you or anything. I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry! I’m sorry.”

You stared at him, disbelievingly. “Yeah? And how do I know that?” You let this man into your home, your safe space. How could you have been so stupid?

“Look, I grew up around Vampires okay? My neighbors, back in my childhood home, they were like you. I know the signs. I know how your eyes blow out when you’re hungry, the way they glaze over when you haven’t fed in a while. That’s it. I didn’t even realize until I got a good look at you, back when you were translating. It’s no big deal, really.”

You scoffed. No big deal? Felix didn’t seem to realize just how big of a deal it actually was. Humans weren’t supposed to know what you were, certainly not at Hampden. The Society had made well sure of that. God, if The Council saw you now...

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I should have told you back at the library. I honestly didn’t think it would freak you out this much. That’s on me,” he said, inching slightly closer to you. Despite yourself, you didn’t move away.  “I’m serious though, it’s been a while since you last fed. Hasn’t it?”

A while was an understatement. The Society had been going through a shortage of blood bags, after having severed their connections with one of the nearby hospitals. Meaning if you wanted to drink, it would have to be from one of their Certified Donors. Which was another, fancier and far more innocent way of saying prisoners. These were humans who had given their lives to The Society, some willingly and others not so much.

You didn’t like going to their quarters. Located in the basement of the main district, it was always quiet down there. Always solemn. You’d never been to a place lacking so much hope. You’d only gone once, and drinking from that man still haunts you to this day. The way he didn’t move or speak, or even wince when your fangs broke his skin. The way his eyes were hollow and empty. How when you were done he simply laid down in his bed and turned away from you, without another word. 

The Certified Donors were what made you begin to hate The Society in the first place. Since then, your resentment only seemed to grow. 

You sighed, walking past him and flopping onto your couch. “Yeah, it’s been a while,” you confessed.

Felix carefully approached you. Instead of seating himself next to you, he got down on his knees, resting a hand on your thigh. “It’s okay, you can use me. I don’t mind.”

You were ready to tell him no, the word lingering on the tip of your tongue. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him. Perhaps it was your hunger, the fact that a few more weeks in this drought, you might actually become ill. 

Or maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that you wanted to disobey the society. That this little act of rebellion, this utterly wrong indulgence, was what made your desire grow unbearable, unchained. You hated The Council, you hated the Certified Donor system, and you hated the way they had such a firm grip and control on your life.

A beautiful boy was seated in front of you, begging you to drink from him. How could you possibly say no? Better yet, why would you say no? To deprive yourself of something so great, for something you despised so deeply seemed ridiculous. That was the moment your judgment lapsed, that you crossed the point of no return. If you drank from Felix, there would be no going back. If the council found out, there would be consequences. Big ones.

But who doesn’t love a little risk?

You sunk down to meet him on the floor, staring at his bare chest. You could hear his heart pumping, its pace quickening the closer you got to him. 

“Are you sure about this?” You asked.

“Yes,” he whispered. You shifted your position. Not quite seating yourself in his lap, but hovering above, your knees on either side of him. 

“This might hurt a little bit,” you warned. You extended your fangs, approaching his neck, carefully. You didn’t realize until then how nervous you were. It had been a long time since you’d fed from a human. You’d drank from Chan of course, but he was also a vampire, and your blood didn’t have quite the same effect. There was pleasure in it, usually accompanied in moments of ecstasy, but it didn’t replenish you. It didn’t heighten your senses, nor fill you with energy. Most of all, it didn’t satisfy your hunger, your thirst. Not at all.

Felix’s blood would. 

You kept this in mind as you finally plunged your fangs into his neck. Felix let out a gasp, tensing beneath you, his hand clutching onto your arm for support. The taste of his blood grazed your tongue, metallic and warm. Delicious.

Fuck, did blood ever taste this good before? You didn’t think so.

The sweet taste consumed you. Intoxicating. Raw. Cascading over your mind in a blanket of pleasure, reveling in the way its effects seeped over your body. You could feel your mind growing sharper, your senses becoming more alert. It was a relief, after weeks of blurry weakness, of being too close to humanity in your thirst. You felt yourself again, the monster you are. The monster you are glad to be.

Here you were powerful. Invincible. And all you wanted was more. More. More.

More of this power, this sensation, this strength. This is what feeding should be. What feeding can give you. Not from a blood bag, nor a helpless prisoner, but from someone you want. Someone you desire. Someone who desires you in return.

It was as you felt Felix’s grip on your arm loosen that you finally broke away, breathing hard as you caught your breath. Felix’s eyes shifted to yours lazily, dazed. Perhaps even delirious. For a moment you feared that you’d taken too much. He blinked slowly, his eyes regaining focus.

Then he smiled. “Shit Y/N…” he began, his voice appearing more of a croak. “That felt really fucking good.” 

You grinned, leaning into him and pressing a series of kisses up along his jaw. Felix shivered, allowing his hands to slowly slide up your figure. Wanting.

“Yeah?” You whispered, your lips brushing against his ear. “Then how about we continue where we left off?”

      ~~~~

The next morning you woke to the sound of your alarm buzzing, sunlight peeking through the opening of your drapes. You heard a low groan next to your ear, quickly becoming aware of the hand wrapped around your waist. 

So last night really happened. The reality of your situation dawned on you. You’d both drank from and fucked a human. There was no going back now, you’d completely disobeyed The Society.

Worst of all? You didn’t care. At least, not near as much as you should have. 

You shifted to face Felix, seeing his eyes still closed, eyebrows furrowed. “Hey,” you whispered, planting a soft kiss on the tip of his nose. “We have to get up. I have class.”

He groaned again in protest, shaking his head and burying his face into the crook of your neck. Between last night's events and the ringing of your alarm, you both only got about two hours of sleep, and that was being generous. This was no problem for you, as while sleep was a luxury, it was not a necessity. The same didn’t go for Felix.

“Come on,” you laughed, worming out of his grasp. “You’ll be fine, I’ll go make us some coffee.”

You rolled out of bed, throwing on Felix’s discarded shirt and heading towards your kitchen. Flicking on the radio, you felt oddly blissful as you grounded the coffee beans into a filter. It had been a long time since there’d been another person in your apartment. It made the space seem less… haunted. No longer lingering with the essence of Chan’s ghost. It felt fresh. New. 

Felix emerged from your bedroom, rubbing his eyes sleepily, sporting only his khaki’s from the past day. His gaze met yours and he smiled. “So, I take it my shirt is yours now?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, leaning forward over your kitchen counter. Felix bent down, causing you to become nose-level with one another. The close proximity made your heart race.

“Mean,” he murmured, leaning forward to kiss you softly. There was no unchained desire, no promise of more. It was simple, warm. A morning of peace after a night of wildness.

You could get used to this, you thought.

The thought sunk in your chest like a stone. This wouldn’t be as simple as you wanted to be, as you needed it to be. There would be sacrifices to make, and cautions you’d have to adhere to. You had to get the truth out in the open. Better to rip the bandaid off now rather than later.

 “Felix, you can’t tell anyone about this.” You said. The smile faded from Felix’s face, and for a moment he looked so… hurt. He stepped back.

“About the feeding? Y/N, I wouldn’t tell anyone what you are, don’t worry about-”

“No, not just the feeding. About us. About any of it.”

Felix opened his mouth to say something, but then quickly closed it. His gaze hardened. “Ah. Got it,” he stated sharply, grabbing his blazer and motioning to the door. “I’ll just head out then.”

“Wait, Felix! No, it’s not like that,” you said, rushing around the kitchen island and reaching for his arm. He turned around to face you, his expression wounded. “Listen, I don’t know how it was with your old neighbors, but here at Hampden things are different. There’s certain rules we have to follow, and what you and I did? Well, that broke about a hundred of them.”

Felix was silent for a moment, then sighed. “Okay… But what do you mean rules? Who’s enforcing them? Hampden?”

“No, it’s bigger than that. There’s a group of us here, a society. There are rules we abide by, and they’re meant to keep us safe. Keep us united,” you explained.

“Like a cult?” Felix asked, and you had to refrain from rolling your eyes.

“Well, if that helps you, then whatever. Yeah, sure. A cult.”

“Where do you-”

“I’m sorry,” you cut him off. “But that’s all I can really tell you, at least for now. Honestly, the less you know, the better. Just for safety’s sake.”

“Oh. Alright,” Felix said, his lips pursed. He wasn’t pleased, that much was obvious.

“I know this sucks, I’m sorry. But if we want to keep doing this-”

“Wait,” Felix interrupted, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “You want to keep doing this? I thought you’d get in trouble?”

You smiled, and were pleased to see the corners of his mouth curve up in return. “I’ve already risked getting myself in trouble.” You trailed your finger along the bare of his chest, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin. He was so alive, so real. And it only made you want him more. Perhaps, that’s why he wanted you as well. You were unpredictable, wild. A challenge. 

A match made in hell.

“I dug myself a grave, Lix.” You looked up at him, entranced by the curiosity swimming in his eyes. “Might as well lie in it.”

~~

next chapter 

[anightflower]

Come and Find Me

Chapter One: I’m Stuck 

I won’t lie when writing the cute parts of the story I listened to “I’m Stuck” by Noah Cyrus.  

Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: None 

Read Prologue here   Masterlist

You stumbled into your favorite coffee shop. You were a mess this morning and it’s all because your alarm decided to fuck you over and not wake you up on time. Luckily your body didn’t completely betray you, naturally waking up an hour later than you had planned, but still giving you a half hour to get to your meeting. 

You had screamed when you saw the time, this meeting could be your next big break, and getting there late was not how you wanted to start a new design deal. At a mere 23 years old you were still making your way up into the world. After graduating college a semester early you had worked your ass off and started your own independent interior design business. You focused on designing office spaces for big businesses using workplace psychology to create an environment that brought up productivity and reduced the stress of workers. 

Your business was slowly gaining traction, but the company you were meeting today could really put your name out there. 

You had planned to wake up early, put yourself together and center yourself over a cup of coffee, however, life can never be that simple. So here you were, quick light makeup and your hair in a simple bun rather than the elaborate “I am a professional” look you planned. The one thing you did have going for you was your outfit, a white blouse that complimented your figure and tan capri pants, with a strappy heeled sandal. You had made sure it was spotless and ironed before your big day today, so at least you had that going for you. 

“Oh darling, you look a bit out of it, are you alright?” Your favorite barista and dear friend Ava, asked, her green eyes filled with concern. 

“Av, you would not believe the hell of the morning I’ve had.” You groaned. “I woke up late today and I have that huge meeting I told you about and all of the things I had planned to keep me grounded and ready flew out the window.”

Ava let out a tsk sound and patted your hand. “Oh babe, in that case, coffee’s on me. Take a deep breath. You’ve been planning for this meeting for weeks and with that amount of work and dedication, you’re definitely going to knock’em dead.” 

“Ave, you are the light of my life.” You said, already feeling lighter than you did when you first entered. 

“Oh babe, I know.” She winked, brushing a stray purple bang out of her eye. “I want an update on everything afterwards, you’ve got my number! James will have your coffee ready for you at the other end. Good luck!” 

“Thank you! I promise I will!” You grinned and made your way to the other end of the counter, where your coffee was waiting. 

Knowing your order by heart, James had already started your latte the moment you walked in, you thanked whatever God listening that it was ready so fast. James gave you a shy smile and handed you the coffee. “Here you go.”

“Thanks James.” You gave him a kind smile and turned to leave. Glancing down at your watch, you realized you had ten minutes to get to your meeting, but luckily it was just up the block so you would get there right on time. 

But like you said nothing is ever easy. You weren’t exactly paying attention as you walked out of the store, you were double checking your bag to make sure you had everything, so naturally you slammed into someone, causing coffee to get all over your blouse.

You let out a yelp, while a large hand came out to steady you. “I am so sorry! Are you alright?” A male voice asked. 

“Well, aside from the fact that I have a meeting that could change my life in 5 minutes and now I look like a disheveled mess with coffee on her blouse, I’m fine.” You grumbled finally looking at the face of your accidental attacker. Your heart stopped for a moment. 

He was stunning. Shoulder length curly brown hair, caramel eyes, and a TALL, fit body.

He was clearly flustered as your eyes met. His face had a gentle dusting of pink across it and his eyes could barely meet yours. “I really am sorry, I wasn’t paying attention- uh- here!” He began to shrug off his cardigan. “This should be able to cover up most of the stains.” He thrust the sweater towards you. 

Now it was your turn to be flustered. “Oh no, really, I can figure something out-” 

“You said this meeting is supposed to change your life right?” He interrupted before you could stutter out anymore excuses. You nodded. “While I don’t want to be the person that ruins your life. Just wear it to your meeting and uh, how about we meet back here tomorrow morning and you can just give it back to me then?” He blushed a deeper crimson, as a big smile grew across your face. 

“I would love that, thank you so much.” You put on his cardigan and buttoned it up. He was right, almost all of the stains were covered. “How do I look? Professional?” You asked him.

“Beautiful- I mean yes, professional, you look great!” He smiled, pushing a shoulder length curl behind his ear.

You blushed, but quickly forced yourself to regain your composure. “So I’ll meet you here at 7 tomorrow-” You paused looking at him for his name. 

“Dr. Reid, well, Spencer, call me Spencer.” 

“Spencer.” You smiled. “I will see you tomorrow then.” 

That was the first time you met Spencer Reid.

________________________________________________________________

The next morning, Spencer arrived 30 minutes early to the coffee shop to get a table, he felt fidgety and nervous. He hadn’t even caught your name yesterday before you left and he felt like an idiot. Of course he bumps into the most beautiful girl he has ever seen, spilt coffee all over her, AND forgot to ask her her name. Part of him was worried you wouldn’t even show up, it’s not exactly the best first meeting. 

30 minutes later when you walked in, he thanked a God he didn’t even believe in. You looked less bewildered than you did yesterday, but no less beautiful. 

You had chosen to go for a business casual look, your hair curled and flowing past your shoulders, a deep red blouse, black denim jeans, and black heeled boots. You had Spencer’s cardigan draped over your arm, you had made sure to wash it before giving back to him. 

You searched around the patrons until your eyes met Spencer’s, your whole face lit up as you made your way over to him. 

You had no idea that somebody else was watching you as you made your way over to him. You were too distracted by Spencer to feel the angry gaze that burned into your back.

“Hi.” You said shyly as you sat down. 

“Hey.” Spencer said smiling at you. 

“Were you waiting long?” You asked, a concerned look crossing your face.

“Oh no, not at all, I just came a few minutes early to get us a good seat.” Spencer lied, not wanting you to know how early he actually came. 

“Well you choose right, this is the best seat in the house. It’s right by the counter where you pick up coffee, but it’s the perfect window seat to people watch.” You explained. 

“Yeah, did you know coffee is actually a fruit?” Spencer asked you. “They’re actually the pit of a berry and grow on a bush. 

You let out a giggle, “No, I had no idea that was even a thing. At least I can use that as an excuse when I get chastised for drinking too much. Where did you learn that?” 

Spencer blushed. “I tend to pick up random knowledge here and there. Which reminds me, I never got your name yesterday before you ran off.” 

“Well Dr. Spencer Reid, my name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” You grinned offering him a hand. “No fancy title, but I am doing my best for simply being a Miss.” 

Spencer would usually avoid handshakes due to all the germs, however he wanted nothing more than to shake your hand, which was warm and soft. 

“(Y/N).” He tested your name out on his tongue. You smiled. 

“Have you gotten a coffee yet?” You asked him, getting up to head to order.

“I had one a bit earlier, but I could use another one.” Spencer answered, getting up to follow you. 

As you approached the counter you tried to ignore the smug look Ava gave you, praying she wouldn’t say anything. She gave Spencer a not so subtle up and down look, checking him out and obviously finding him attractive. You gave Ava a stern look that told her not to say a word. 

She just gave you a wink. Spencer had picked up on all of this, his profiler skills not missing a thing. A small smile crept across his face and he swallowed back a laugh. 

You gestured for Spencer to go first, “I’m buying, to thank you for letting me borrow your sweater yesterday.” 

Spencer looked at you in bewilderment. “No way! If anything I’m buying for destroying your coffee and spilling it all over your blouse before your ‘life changing’ meeting!”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Spencer, just order the damn coffee. I promise you it won’t break my bank. Especially after I got the design yesterday.” You grinned. 

 Ava let out a squeal. “You did not! Oh my god, I knew you could do it girl! All of your hard work paid off!” 

Spencer’s face lit up. “Congratulations! I’m glad our collision didn’t ruin anything.” 

You let out a laugh. “If anything I think your cardigan brought me good luck, I even got a couple compliments on it. I may just have to keep it.” You teased 

Spencer’s heart warmed at the idea of you wearing his clothes. “Well if it brought you that much luck, maybe I’ll just let you keep it.”

A voice behind the two of you cleared their throat. “Are you guys going to order? Some of us have places to be.” 

You glanced behind you at the woman, a small line had apparently grown behind you and Spencer.  “Sorry about that. Ava I’ll just do my usual. Do not let Spencer pay.” 

Ava raised her hands defensively. “I’m just here to make coffee love.” 

“I’ll just do a large coffee with extra cream and a lot of sugar.”  Spencer said. 

You went to grab your wallet from your purse, but Spencer cut you off, cash already in hand. 

“Spencer.” You whined and Spencer just shrugged. 

As you made your way to the counter, you found it a bit strange that James had just left your coffees there. Usually he would at least wait a moment to say hi before taking off to make more orders, but you shrugged it off, they did have a line right now so he probably had to focus on getting the coffees out to customers. 

Though the two of you only got to spend about an hour together, the two of you had immediately hit it off, completely unaware of the eyes that had been burning through you as they watched throughout what you and Spencer would later consider your first date. 

_______________________________________________________________

From there it was a whirlwind of dates snuck between cases and your design jobs. After a little over a month Spencer had asked to officially call you his girlfriend and you had obviously accepted.  

It was ridiculously cliche how quickly the both of you had fallen for each other, but you had just seemed to click right away. You loved Spencer’s logical mind that went on and on with random facts, he loved your creativity and energy. Your minds worked well together, helping each other out when the other got stuck. 

As your relationship progressed, you found yourself spending more and more time at each other's apartments.

“Ava, he's just a dream. I’ve never felt like this with anyone ever.” You explained joyfully. 

You had sat in your regular window seat, while Ava remained on the  other side of the service counter. It was a bit slow in the shop today, so she had come over to get all the details on “your smokeshow boyfriend.” Since she was the manager of the shop and beloved by her boss, she could get away with it.

“Oh hon, if he has a brother, let me know.” She purred, sneaking a glance over her shoulder to check on James who was holding down the fort for her. The boy stood by the register, poor thing looking a bit bored. 

James was a year younger than you and apparently starting grad school, but his shyness made him seem so much younger that you felt this slight protectiveness over him even if you only knew him from around the shop and stories from Ava. 

His eyes met yours and you gave him a sympathetic smile. He blushed deeply and turned away, scampering to busy himself. 

You looked back at Ava, giving a little nod towards James, “What about James? He seems sweet and he’s cute.” You waggled your eyebrows at her. 

Ava snickered. “(Y/N/N), he is sweet, but way too shy, he can barely look me in the eye. I need someone who’s more of a dom if you know what I mean.” She smirked. 

You pouted at her. “Poor James.” 

Ava shrugged, “He’ll find his someone. Anyway you’re switching the topic, back to your dreamboat. You said he was an FBI agent? That’s heroic and sexy.” 

You rolled your eyes at her. “Yes, he’s part of the Behavior Analysis Unit. They create profiles to help solve different criminal cases. It’s actually amazing. Spencer is giving a lecture about it at a college this Friday if you want to come with me.” 

“I’ll come, but only if I get to officially meet your sexy doctor superhero boyfriend.” Ava smirked. 

“Well obviously.” You smiled. 

________________________________________________________________

The boy’s breathing was heavy as he struggled to control his anger. He watched the Doctor’s tall form strutting across the stage, his long brown hair swinging back and forth as he broke down profiling and the criminal cases he and his BAU team had solved. 

From where he sat in the lecture hall he could watch the doctor while also keeping an eye on you. You were sitting near the front, your friend by your side.  It was hard to miss her with her deep purple hair, that’s how he always found you. Though to him, you outshined everyone in the room. Even the ridiculous doctor. 

He growled to himself as he observed your look of awe. He knew you two had made your relationship official. He knew almost every detail. Like how last weekend, the Doctor had come home early from a case and had surprised you with your favorite flowers: pink dahlias. You had spent the whole rest of the weekend together; you had brought him to your favorite Thai place, then went to both of your favorite bookstores. He knew everything. 

He knew where you lived, your schedule, the design projects you were working on. He watched and he listened. He followed you home some days. Other days, he would simply wait outside your apartment building. He knew what window to watch if he wanted to catch a glimpse of you. 

The worst days are when the Doctor would be with you. He would watch as you two joked around and kissed, it made him sick. 

He didn’t like the Doctor. He hated hearing him ramble on to you. Fact after fact, never shutting up. But he understood him as he had researched him, found his accomplishments; he was a prodigal, graduating high school at the age of 12 and earned three PhDs. He worked for the FBI, catching criminals and profiling them. The Doctor constantly had something to prove, how could you be with a man so weak?

The Doctor was someone who could hardly befriend anyone besides his books, so how had the Doctor gotten you, when he had always been there? The Doctor did not deserve you, the Doctor could not give you what he could. Yet here you were, giving this man a ridiculous moon-eyed look that he did not deserve. 

He couldn’t take it anymore. He got up and left. 

He made his way down the hall towards an all-too familiar office, one that he practically lived in. 

He was greeted by his usual cheery eyed professor, Professor Irving. 

Never one to miss anything, Professor Irving raised an eyebrow. “You’re back early, how was the lecture?” Professor Irving asked. “Isn’t that Dr. Reid something else?”

“He’s alright. Someone worth looking into for sure. I left early to get ahead of these reports you wanted me to help grade, I do have a life outside of classes.” 

Professor Irving smirked at him. “Son, I have known you too long, the only three places you go are classes, your job, and your apartment. I was hoping this lecture would show you how much the world has to offer, I mean look at Dr. Reid! He was one of the youngest to ever join the BAU-”

“ENOUGH about Dr. Reid!” He growled, interrupting his professor. 

Professor Irving just stared at his student, shell-shocked. 

The boy shook his head and rubbed his face. “I’m sorry professor, that was uncalled for, I have just been stressed lately.” The boy began picking up the papers he had to grade. He wanted to get through some of these as quick as possible, that way he could spend his weekend with you. 

Professor Irving solemnly nodded. “I understand. I know you’ve been stressed lately, is that girl of yours acting up still?”

The boy sighed as he shrugged on his bag full of student’s reports. “Something like that. Listen, I know you said Dr. Reid is going to continue to come back and give lectures every few weeks or so. I will go to those ones and actually stay for them. Who knows? Maybe it will help me with my thesis paper. I just- I just can’t focus tonight, but I will do better. I promise.” 

Professor Irving nodded. “Of course, let me know if there is anything I can do to help.” 

The boy nodded then left the room.

________________________________________________________________

TAGLIST:

@andiebeaword @haylaansmi @parkastoria @possessedjoker @amronsparty @generaltheoristexpert @sierraraeck @coniumalces @tamedbyafox @anotherr-fine-mess @adoregin @rainsong01 @canyonnmoonn  @mggshoe @boxofsparklingmuses @richardpapensmuse @deanlenaz​ @rainsong01 @goldentournesol @annesauriol @itsametaphorbriansblog @secretpickleprofessordean @shameleswhorehourstm @stepsofthefbi​ @iifloweringnightsii 

[shreddedleopard]

Rivahisu Week 2021

Day VI - F r e e D a y

S t a i n s

1

T H E J A N I T O R

Levi took a long drag on his cigarette as he sat perched near the lip of the gutter, the tiles of the old school roof hot through the pants of his overalls.

It wasn’t even 9am yet at Shiganshina High and the heat was already stifling; he’d rolled both sleeves up as far as they’d reach, popping open the top two buttons at his front to let the air get to his neck. Any more and Principle Zackley was sure to be on his ass about suitable ways to wear his uniform on campus.

Tch.

He’d been flushing the gutters and fixing a couple of loose tiles when raised voices below had drawn his attention, and now he sat watching the debacle unfold on the yard below.

“Eren! You little shithead. Why would you do something like that to Historia!?”

“I’ve told you before, Jean, I don’t know what you mean.”

“Fuck you! Don’t get cute with me.”

Levi had to fight the urge to roll his eyes as he watched Jean Kirchstein, biggest jock in the school, square up to that Eren kid - the one who’d not long moved here and didn’t seem to fit in with the others. Despite this reluctance to get involved with any of the other social groups at the school, from what Levi had observed, the guy still had a knack for attracting trouble wherever he went.

It more often than not involved Jean; especially when gothkasa and her blonde pal were around. It was quite evident to Levi that both boys were affected by and vying for the moody, raven haired girl’s attention.

Fucking teenagers.

He watched Eren turn, now nose to nose with the slightly taller Jean.

No doubt the teaching staff would be too busy fawning over one of Erwin’s new sweater vests or trying to stop Four-Eyes setting up some highly inappropriate experiment in her class lab to be bothered dealing with these assholes before the first bell. Shit’d be over before any of them blinked an eye.

Was Levi just gonna leave them to it? Maybe. He tapped the ash from his lit end into his half-drunk bottle of water wedged into the side of the gutter.

Gothkasa and blondie watched from the sidelines, their faces contorted with concern, although they made no move to break up the quarrel. A couple of other seniors had gathered to watch now, too. Levi’s gaze swept the rest of the vicinity. And then, there she was.

Of course.

Supposedly the cause of all this mess.

The Queen Bee herself.

Levi took another long drag of his smoke, the butt held between his index and middle fingers and thumb, his eyes narrowed in her direction. She was surrounded by her little group of mindless disciples as she leaned casually against a tree, looking utterly uninterested in the ruckus that was unfolding just across the yard from her. In fact, she was studying her fingernails so intently as the blonde oaf from the football team leaned to whisper something in her ear, that Levi knew instantly she was acutely aware of what was happening, and doing everything within her power to not give it an ounce of her attention.

What a stuck up little shit.

As though she’d heard his godamn thoughts, she glanced up at the roof. Their eyes met for the briefest of seconds, but then Eren’s raised voice drew his attention directly below again.

Apparently, things had escalated; Jean now gripping Eren by the collar of his shirt.

“What the hell, you animal? You ripped my fucking shirt!”

Before Jean had chance react, Eren’s fist had connected squarely with his jaw, sending the taller guy stumbling backwards. It had some some half decent power behind it, Levi had to admit; if Eren knew how to actually throw a punch, Jean would be on his ass out cold by now, and things would have been over as quickly as they’d started.

Levi would’ve preferred that. Wouldn’t have had to get involved, if that’d been the case. He was gonna have to teach Eren how to throw a better punch.

Jean righted himself, and then launched at the kid. Levi watched them grapple for a minute, their grunts and curses punctuated by a few cheers and whoops from the other seniors.

He sighed, inhaling the last of his cigarette, and then snatched up his water bottle, dropping in the end.

“Kids drive me to this disgusting habit, I swear to god.”

He was at his ladder, sliding down it with ease, in seconds. The bottle hit the trash can in the corner of the yard with a loud clang.

“Oi! You pair of shits!”

At the sound of his voice, Jean immediately let go of Eren’s shirt and stepped away, eyes wide as he caught view of Levi.

“Uh - yeah - sorry. Was just heading to class.”

“Kirschtein. I’m not teaching staff, so I’m not gonna be handing out detentions any time soon, but if I catch you starting shit again, I’ll put my foot up your ass - regardless of what principle Zackley says. Got it?”

Levi watched the kid light up like a flaming beacon, glancing around at his peers, who were already scattering. “Uh - yeah.” He mumbled another apology, before slinking off.

Eren, however, continued to glare at him from Levi’s other side. Levi folded his arms as he turned. “Hey. You.” Eren turned his gaze to Levi.

Funny. Levi felt a pang of recognition at the fire in his green eyes. Sure did remind him of someone.

“If you’re intent on settling shit with your fists, I suggest you improve that right hook.”

“I …”

He didn’t give him chance to explain himself or come up with some shitty excuse, turning his back on him. He could feel Eren’s eyes boring into him as he left, heading in the direction of the outbuildings and his janitor’s shed.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed that the Queen Bee was still loitering at the edge of the yard, back pressed to the tree. Her cronies had left her now, and something about her expression looked a little different as she stared after him.

Levi didn’t hang around to pay attention to it. He ducked around the corner of the building before he could think on either her or Eren any more.

Whatever had gone on between them all; it was of no consequence to him.

———

The following morning, before classes began, there was a knock on his shed door.

Levi cursed, yanking the arm of his overalls up over his shoulder, concealing the nicotine patch he’d just slapped on to his bicep.

“Yeah?”

When he peered around his steel shelving, filled with rows of meticulously labelled boxes of cleaning products, he caught sight of the visitor in his doorway.

Eren.

“Huh? What’s up?”

Eren blinked at him.

Great. Levi guessed he’d probably damaged something with that shitty temper of his.

He shoved his hands into his pockets. “What did you break?”

“Oh, nothing.” Eren shook his head. “I just … what you said, about my punch, yesterday. I was just wondering … could you teach me? How to throw a better punch?”

It was Levi’s turn to blink at Eren now. He clicked his tongue against his teeth. “I’m a damn Janitor, not Mr. Miyagi.”

Eren rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. I know. It’s just … I heard that, a while back, before you were a Janitor -“

“Whatever you heard, you can keep it to yourself.” Levi turned to head back into the depths of his shed, where he could continue to potter with his odd jobs in peace. “Dumb kids spreading shit,” he muttered to himself.

“Wait - sir -“

He rolled his eyes, pausing.

“Didn’t you hear me yesterday? I’m not teaching staff either. Just call me Levi.”

“Okay then. Levi. If you can’t teach me how to knock Jean out, would it be okay if … sometimes … I stop by here. Maybe help with something? Just during break times. I could do with keeping out of his way for a bit. I don’t really want to get a rep, or anything. It’s just…”

“It’s just, if he starts shit with you, you aren’t going to be able to leave it and walk away?” Levi ventured, arching a brow as he regarded Eren, hands still in his pockets.

“Yeah. I guess. Something like that.”

Levi wanted to roll his eyes again, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Despite Eren being just another one of the kids at school, it felt to Levi that he knew him very well, somehow. He’d seen it all before. That temper; the need to prove yourself. Unwillingness to back down from a challenge.

He’d seen it all before; close to home.

“Sure. Fine. Whatever. Just … don’t get under my feet.”

That one small act - one small moment of kindness on Levi’s part - was how the whole damn mess began.

Next:

T H E Q U E E N B E E

[desi-lgbt-fest]

Day 5: Platonic

A story I wrote for today's prompt. It's a story about two middle aged men realising the happiness they want can come in many different forms.

1. 8 k words.

Cw: Mild homophobia. Incorrect language. It's indicative of character's understanding, not mine.

...

When Vikram Kumar first transferred to their branch, Nath wasn't impressed. Theirs was a small transport company, still somehow holding on against the giants of the industry. They were doing well for themselves; they had branches in few neighbouring states where the business was concentrated. And yeah, the company policy does state that employees should get transferred around every 4 years or so. But that never really happened. Nath had been working at Gada transport ltd for more than 25 years now and the only way anybody new ever came in the office was if someone died or retired.

That was what had happened. Another clerk, Nisha Bhagwan, had a heart attack at the computer and in came Vikram Kumar, a transfer from Nagpur. The office people took to him like animals take to the new clown at the circus. Nobody was really sad about Mrs Bhagwan's passing. She was old and in an office full of other old people, they were just waiting for the hat to drop on someone. Better Mrs Bhagwan than us.

They inquired after him, after his family, his mother's family, his neighbour's family, his neighbour's dog's family. When they found out that he was divorced and currently living in a sketchy hotel, they immediately turned to Nath.

Nath, or Adinath, as his name was, owned two flats in his society. Two flats side by side, one in which he lived. He very famously refused to rent it out to families or students or single women. Which meant, he never really rented it out. It actually quite suited to his own solitary silent life. But he regretted boasting about it in the office because here came his perfect rent.

"I- uh. The apartment is very dirty and I'd have to clean it," he started making excuses.

Vikram Kumar shrugged. "I don't mind. Better than listening to the sex noises coming from the side wall." Raucous laughter emerged, unhampered by the fact that their only woman employee wasn't there anymore.

Nath couldn't say no.

Vikram Kumar did turn out to be an ideal renter. He was silent. No guests. Rent, which Nath had kept a little high to dissuade, always on time. Sometimes old hindi songs drifted from his flat but Nath didn't mind. As his novelty wore off and office people stopped fawning over him, Nath did find himself to be quite okay with Vikram Kumar's existence.

A distinct mark in his favour was that he didn't laugh when at their regular chai break (5 minute break that always turned into a 45 minute one) the others made him familiar with Nath's title as the resident Bramhachari.

"Never married, never looks at a woman," Bhosle, their manager remarked.

"Hey you remember that time when that bombshell came in complaining about some lost package? Nath did not even look away from her face."

"Pakka gentleman, I tell you. He's not the customer complaint manager for nothing."

Everybody guffawed. Nath gave his regular pained smile. Vikram Kumar smiled back. For a moment, Nath thought it was a smile of understanding.

Eventually, Nath started offering Vikram Kumar a ride home on his ancient scooter. He obliged. When the ride turned regular, Vikram Kumar started contributing for petrol. Another mark in his favour.

13 months later, Vivek Chand, accountant, retired. In came a new hire, Ashalata Waad.

Suddenly many colleagues started turning up in pressed shirts and oiled hair. Nath merely shook his head and laughed at their preening. It was their colleagues' turn to laugh when Ms. Ashalata, recently widowed, took to Nath. Furtive smiles. Sympathy over dealing with difficult clients. Nath of course did not notice. But the other colleagues did. And out of sympathy for Ms Ashalata's feelings, they gently took her to a side after a week or so and directed her towards someone more likely to respond; the new divorcee, Vikram Kumar.

That, Nath certainly noticed.

That evening, Nath left without offering a ride to him.

Next morning, everyone noticed the distinct coldness between Ms Ashalata and Vikram Kumar. It was a long day too. Some trouble with licensing of a large shipment, everybody had to stay behind. It was well over 8 when people started leaving. Vikram came over to Nath's desk and tapped on it.

"I don't think this late I will find a riksha like yesterday. Will you please give a ride home?"

Nath sighed. He wasn't petty after all. Well, not much.

The streets were near empty. Theirs was a small town. One that eats at 8 and sleeps at 10. Nath's scooter cut through the silence and the sickly orange lights of the streetlamps like an interloper. They were crossing the Hutatma Chauk when Vikram asked him to stop.

"What for?"

"It was a long and stressful day. I wanted us a relax a bit at the park bench before we go home."

"I'm not going-"

"Please yaar."

Nath sighed.

Stopping the scooter at side, they both walked to the circle where statue of some forgotten freedom fighter stood, benches around it. Surprisingly, there were some people ambling around. Old couples taking a rest from nightly walk. A group of youngsters.

After having the sound of scooter in the ears for past five minutes, the sudden silence was deafening.

"I don't think Ms Waad would be talking to me again," Vikram Kumar started without preamble, a laughter in his voice.

Nath sighed and ran a hand through in thin hair. "You didn't do any-"

"No no, oh god no! I just said I'm not interested. I think that was enough for her to be offended."

"She's not your type?" he probed gently, curious.

Vikram was silent for a moment and then burst out with sudden emotion, "Why does it matter? Why one single woman and one single man can not stay without having an affair? Ye saala bollywood-" Nath hushed him, noticing the people around.

"Sorry." Vikram said, taking a deep breath to calm himself down.

"I get it. Years ago, when I told my father I was gay-"

"You're what??"

Nath felt like he made a tremendous mistake in judgement. But he was a grown man dammit, he will hold his ground!

"I said I am gay." Nath held his gaze. Vikram Kumar stared back, unknown range of emotions passing. Eventually he broke the gaze, ran a hand through his own balding hair and sat back.

He shook his head. "I am not gay, if that's why you-"

"That wasn't-"

"I'm NOT. I like women. I- I mean men are good too. I. I don't-"

Nath couldn't help it. He broke into a loud laugh. Like Vikram had performed some excellent comedy sketch.

Vikram punched him lightly on his shoulder, a smile evident on his face.

"I just meant, men, women. All are same to me. Honestly, I didn't mind being married to Sheela. I provided for her, I cared for her wellbeing. Our.. bedroom relations were less ideal but I didn't shut her out. I did my duty."

"I'm guessing she wanted someone who didn't see her as a duty?"

Vikram shrugged. "She was nice about it. Told me plain and simple she found someone else. We didn't have kids. It was easy. Well. As easy as it could be. She told the court I was impotent for swift divorce. I agreed. It caused drama in families though, which is why I asked for a transfer."

"Mrs Bhagwan died at a really opportune moment then."

They both shared a laugh and things fell silent once again.

"So you are... one of those," Vikram tried to say casually.

The elderly couple had left. A newly wed looking one took their place. Nath suddenly felt he was thrown back in time.

"I don't have much family," he started. "Mother died when I was young. Theirs was a love marriage, quite unusual for the times. They had run away and so had lost their families. My father raised me well enough; started pestering me for marriage when I got the job at 22. I kept avoiding for few years. But eventually I had to tell him. I wasn't going to ruin some poor woman's life." Nath looked pointedly at Vikram. Vikram didn't take offence. Just laughed self-consciously. Mark in his favour etc etc.

"Father raged for days. Didn't raise his hand on me, didn't tell anyone else but we fought a lot. It wasn't that he denied my condition. He just wanted a family. On some level we understood each other. I realise it now. I knew he wanted me to marry because he didn't want his hard fought family to die with me. And I guess, he probably knew what it meant to love someone you weren't supposed to.

He died soon after."

"When you were thirty, I remember you telling me."

Nath nodded. "I was free. I had a place of my own. A job. No family to hide myself from. I felt guilty over feeling relieved. I felt angry at being guilty. Then came sadness over being angry. That sadness stayed for a decade."

Vikram asked, "So you never...?

Nath shook out of his trip to memory lane. "Hm?"

"Are you? A bramhachari? Did you ever find-"

"There were some men here and there. Obviously there wasn't going to be a relationship," Nath scoffed. "If you know where to look, you can find release. But after Father died, I don't know, I rarely ever went looking for anybody. I didn't have it in me."

Vikram laughed. "Look at us. Two old men, all on their own, no happy family for us."

"Speak for yourself, I'm barely a day over 40," said the man, almost 50.

Vikram laughed again, looking at him with such fondness in his eyes. Nath felt sharp fear for a moment. Then he decided to be an adult again.

"You look well for your age too."

"Nath..."

Nath shivered at hearing his name. It was an intimate name. People didn't say it much. But it fit in Vikram's mouth.

"I don't want to change anything," Vikram said. "I'm happy as things are. It's ideal. I can't offer anything more."

Nath got up, brushing dust from his pants. It had gotten late. They were alone at the circle. A vehicle passing by to remind them of the world that exists.

"I'll take whatever you can offer," he said, looking away from him.

"Friendship? For as long as I live?" Vikram held out his hand.

Nath looked at it. Big, warm. Hairy. Pale skin where the wedding ring used to sit. He extended his own and took it.

"As long as I live."

... Let me know if you like it enough to see some other prompts involving them... I have so many headcanons for them.

[ofsinnersandsaints]

Pebbles and Sparky

rating: G

word count: 3955

one shot

Fjord knows where Sabian is, and after a long and drawn out negotiation with the Plank King, the Mighty Nein is allowed 24 hours to find Sabian, get their business done, then get off the island.

Or, Fjord and Jester corner Sabian and scare the shit out of him in order to get the answers Fjord desperately needs

Special shout-out to @humble-wayside-flower for the nickname Sabian has for Fjord 😘

AO3

Fjord sat next to Jester in the inn’s dining room with the rest of the Mighty Nein around them as they tried to decide the best way to get to Sabian.

They were on Darktow, having been able to barter their way back onto the island after getting exiled months before. The Plank King had given them 24 hours to take of their business and get off, but if they made any noise, or were in any way disruptive, they would have the entirety of the pirate community after them.

Keeping their heads down and not making a wave wasn’t exactly the Mighty Nein’s strong suit.

Jester had scried on Sabian once they were at the inn, and had been able to narrow his location to a particularly raucous bar in the middle of town. Fjord was worried the second his old crewmate spotted him, he’d run, so they needed a way to figure out where he was and what he was planning.

“I’ll go in,” Beau offered, leaning forward with her tankard in hand. “Get a lay of the land, see if I can get eyes on him. I’m a criminal, I’ll fit in.”

“Hey,” Jester cut in, clearly offended. “We’re all criminals, Beau. We were pirates.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Beau apologized. “But that’s like, water criminals. I’m also a land criminal, I’ll just go in like I’m a wine smuggler. Give me twenty minutes.”

Two minutes of debate later the group agreed to let Beau in go alone, but Veth would trail her and keep in contact with her via message spell so if anything happened, the group could come to her aid.

“Stay safe,” Fjord encouraged as Beau adjusted her cloak, before they’d landed she’d switched it from the Cobalt blue to the plain brown to better fit in.

With a nod, and a quick squeeze of Yasha’s hand, Beau left. Jester scooted her chair closer to his and reached over to take his hand, her body pressed against his. “How are you doing?”

“It’s weird,” he admitted. “Been running towards this for a year, and suddenly I’m a couple of minutes from seeing him again.”

“It’ll be over soon,” she reminded him. “And then you don’t ever have to look back again.”

Fjord wished he could be that optimistic. “Your mouth to the Wild Mother’s ears.”

“I know,” she dug into her backpack. “I’ll draw tarot cards for you.”

He smiled as she pulled out her deck and shuffled them. Fjord didn’t particularly believe in tarot cards, but she loved doing it so much he wasn’t about to dampen her fun by telling her that. And it was fun to see her get so excited about the cards she drew, about finding meaning in them. The way he figured it, it wasn’t much different than him meditating or Caduceus doing communion.

When she looked for answers, this where she found them, and occasionally she found them for him too.

“Cut,” he told her because they’d done this half a dozen times by now.

“Okay, this is for the past,” Jester turned the card over. “Ooooh, it’s the Bed & the Hearth.”

Despite the fact they’d been together for months now he still blushed when she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at him. “The bed is up which means rest and comfort, but the fact that it’s empty means there’s decisions to be made. Which you’ve done,” she reminded him. “We’re here, we’re looking for Sabian. The next one is the present.”

He told her when to cut the cards. “This is a good card! It’s the Sword & Shield.”

According to Jester, every card was a good one, or an interesting one, but Fjord played along. He threw his arm along the back of her chair. “What does it mean?”

“It means,” she stared as she turned the pages in her little book to find the right section. She read a couple of sentences before hitting him on the leg, proof of her excitement. “The shield is up which means you’re standing up for your beliefs. It’s an indication of protectiveness, but it can also mean you’re under attack.”

Fjord didn’t believe in tarot cards, but shit did they get it right sometimes. “I don’t suppose those cards tell you whether or not I’ll succeed?”

“We’ll do a card for the future, that’ll tell us.”

He looked over her shoulder as she revealed the last card. “Storm & Sun, haven’t we seen that one before?”

Jester nodded, “The storm was up last time, but this time it’s the sun.”

“Sun is good?”

“Unless you’re Yasha, she wants to get this card with the storm up. But for you,” she quickly read the paragraph and he watched the slow smile curve across her face. “Healing, progress, and overcoming hardship. It’s good, Fjord.”

She leaned forward and kissed him. “We’re going to be okay.”

“Well, then.” Oddly enough, the knowledge and her certainty made him feel better. “Here’s to being good.”

Jester spent the remaining time doing Yasha and Caduceus’ tarot cards, and just on time Beau walked into the dining room looking confused and maybe a little angry. Veth came in a step behind her, grinning like an idiot.

“You okay there, first mate?”

Beau sat down and drank almost an entire tankard before she looked at him. “He hit on me.”

Fjord smiled at the confused and slightly offended tone to her voice. “Is he still alive?”

“Yes,” she assured him with a roll of her eyes. “He didn’t even use a good pick up line. Does that shit actually for dudes?”

He shrugged, “Sabian’s always done well with the ladies, but I always thought he was a dick. He was a one and done kind of guy.”

“He’s slick,” Beau judged. “And not in the good way. His accent sounded kind of like your old voice, but less drawl, and more clipped. I don’t like him.”

“That makes two of us.”

“Seven of us,” Caleb corrected. “What did you gather from him?”

“He didn’t give away much, but he’s not here for anything good, I can promise you that.” She reached out and took some food from Caleb’s plate. “He’s got a meeting for later though. When I turned him down he hit on some guy at the bar and they made arrangements to meet up in thirty minutes.”

“They’re going back to Sabian’s place,” Veth added. “That would be a good place to corner him.”

“We can all go,” Caleb offered. “A united front.”

“Yeah, and I’ll hide in the shadows and put a bolt in his ass if he so much as sneezes,” Veth added gleefully.

Fjord smiled, but shook his head. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, and I’d feel better knowing you lot were hovering nearby. But…But if it’s alright with everyone, I’d like to talk to him one-on-one to start.”

“I’m going with you,” Jester announced, her narrowed eyes daring him to argue with her.

“Of course you are.” Her expression immediately softened, grinning as if she’d just won an argument he’d had no intention of starting. “If anything goes down, Jester can send an SOS.”

Caleb and Beau looked at each other and after a moment they both nodded. “Okay, but we’ll stay close by, just in case. Ja?”

Fjord nodded and grabbed Jester’s hand as they both stood up. “We’ll talk soon.”

Together he and Jester walked towards where Beau and last seen Sabian. Apparently he’d been living here for a while, which meant there was a better than good chance he’d been here during their brief visit before. What would he have done if he’d known?

“Do we have a game plan?”

Fjord snorted at the question, “No. Should we?”

“Beau would probably have come up with one,” Jester shrugged, but she didn’t seem particularly concerned.

“Probably shouldn’t start out with punching him.”

“Probably not,” she agreed. “We can try being nice.”

He thought about it for a second before shaking his head. “No, he wouldn’t buy it.”

“Then we play it by ear,” she decided. “We’ll see what his reaction to seeing you is.”

“I’m kind of hoping he shits his pants.”

Jester laughed and swung their intertwined hands back and forth. “Me two. Get it? Two.”

“Excellent pun.”

“I thought so. Do you think he knows about the bounty hunter?”

“Probably not, Kotho seemed pretty damn good at her job.”

“Then we’ll definitely have the element of surprise.”

Fjord nodded and kept an eye out for the people leaving the nondescript building a couple doors down from the bar. It only took a few minutes for the half elf to emerge, instantly recognizable with his dark skin and easy swagger. It was bizarre to see Sabian so unchanged.

The past few months had utterly change Fjord, he was stronger, better, and yet Sabian looked almost exactly as he had the morning of the shipwreck. Lean and rangy, he was stronger than he looked and quicker than anyone else on the Tide’s Breath.

Fjord walked along the sidewalk, Jester at his side, and then crossed the street to put himself in Sabian’s way. The half-elf orphan with a quick simile and shuttered eyes widened when he realized who he was looking at.

“Well, well. If it isn’t my old buddy.” Fjord watched as Sabian took in the entire scene, saw those dark eyes dart around as if to make sure there weren’t more people hiding in the shadows. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Sabian’s charm was almost a match for his own, but Fjord immediately caught deception in the casual greeting. Whatever Sabian felt, whatever he’d planned for the night, he was jut a little scared at the sight of Fjord suddenly in front of him. “Nice to see you survived.”

“You as well,” he smirked and tucked his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “Not scars, I hope?”

He had three, but Sabian he said, “Nothing I couldn’t survive.”

“Seems you found some treasure at the bottom of the ocean,” Sabian pointed out as he looked at Jester. “Sabian Flint, at your service.”

Jester’s voice was flat as she met the sailor’s eyes. “Charmed, I’m sure.”

Fjord barely held back at a laugh at her response. Instead he took a step towards his old acquaintance. “I have some questions to ask you.”

Sabian shook his head. “It’s in the past, let it go.”

“Let it go?” Fjord demanded, anger rising to the surface at the sheer lack of concern in Sabian’s voice. “Those sailors died, they’re gone, men we served with, worked shoulder to shoulder with for years. They had people who loved them, who miss them, and they deserve answers. I deserve answers.”

“Calm down, Pebbles.”

The nickname wasn’t new, and neither was the patronizing tone, but Fjord was more than willing to let it slide off his back. His girlfriend apparently had other ideas, as he saw a flash of blue out of the corner of his eye. He barely had a chance to wrap his arm around Jester’s waist before she socked Sabian in front of a crowd.

“He’s not worth it, Jessie.”

She struggled for a second, and they both knew if she wanted to she could escape, but she eventually settled. “It’s Captain Tusktooth, you asshole.”

Sabian smiled, as if he was looking at a small kitten showing its claws. Fjord was more than a little tempted to release his grip on Jester and let her beat him to a pulp, but it might be a better idea to let him think they were weak. The Mighty Nein would prove Sabian wrong if it came down to it.

“Captain, huh? Got a ship of your own?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, but didn’t elaborate. He didn’t want to give Sabian any more information than was strictly necessary. “And a crew. None of whom would stab each other and then blow up the ship.”

“You really don’t understand,” Sabian shook his head as if disappointed in Fjord. “And you never will.”

“I understand more than you think.”

“And yet you still felt the need to track me down to ask me questions? You’re as clueless as you’ve always been, Pebbles. But you know what they say, ignorance is bliss. Enjoy your bliss, and your lady friend, and stay out of my way.”

Fjord watched Sabian turn around to walk away, and he couldn’t think of anything to say to stop him. Aside from physically detaining him, there wasn’t much he could do.

“What did he promise you?” Jester asked to Sabian’s retreating back. “For every soul Uk’otoa gets, he gives you a little more power?”

Sabian stopped walking, his entire body seeming to have frozen in place. Slowly, he turned to face them both. “Excuse me?”

Jester snorted and crossed her arms in front of her. “You think you’re the only person who knows about the snea snake? Because you’re not.”

“He can’t be that high up,” Fjord added. He had no idea how Jester had connected those dots, but now that she’d said it, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized the possibility sooner. “He probably doesn’t even know about the orbs.”

“Oh, definitely not.”

“What do you know about Uk’otoa?” Sabian asked, but Fjord was drawn to the way Sabian’s fingers had begun to move. He recognized those movements, they’d been instinctual to him after surviving the ocean.

Sabian knew magic.

Before his former crewmate could do whatever he planned, Fjord cast a spell of his own. Throwing out the magic towards Sabian before he could do any damage to himself or Jester.

“What did you do?” Sabian demanded. His voice was strained and Fjord could all but see the muscles tighten as Sabian attempted to fight against the paralyzation which had suddenly come over him.

“I cast hold person,” Fjord explained matter-of-factly.

“Impressive,” Jester complimented him. “He can escape from it though, can’t he?”

“That’s what I’ve got you for.”

Jester’s grin was bright and eager as she patted the axe at her side. “I’ve been wanting to hit him for a while now.”

“Let’s get him out of the open though.” They hadn’t made a scene yet, but it was only a matter of time before someone noticed Sabian couldn’t move. “I don’t want anyone helping this piece of shit.”

“No problem,” Jester picked up Sabian by the waist and Fjord laughed so hard he was pretty sure he pulled something in his rib. “Come on, Sparky.”

She carried him down an alleyway as Fjord followed her. “Fuck, I wish the rest of the crew could see this.”

Jester grinned over her shoulder as she set Sabian back down, still paralyzed but anger and embarrassment darkening his cheeks.

“You dumbass half-orc,” Sabian roared. “I’ll get out of this and then you’ll regret ever finding me.”

“Shut up or I’ll make you shut up,” Jester warned and the look in her eye must have been enough of a warning because while Sabian still threw daggers from his eyes, he didn’t say anything else.

“If we try to take him back to the ship like this, he’ll call for help,” Fjord pointed out, fully aware Sabian could hear them.

“We can stick him in the bag of holding and take him back to the ship.”

“He might die in there,” Fjord pointed out casually.

“He’s got at least ten minutes,” Jester reminded him, voice pragmatic. “But we are in the middle of Darktow, so it might take longer than that. We’d have to walk fast.”

“And work up a sweat?” Fjord asked, feigning disgust. “No, thank you.”

“Good point,” Jester chewed on her lip as if she was deep in thought. “I mean, if he dies I can always bring him back. Or we could just cast speak with the dead and get our answers that way. We don’t actually need him alive.”

Fjord nodded, fully aware Jester was playing to the growing fear in Sabian’s eyes. He wanted to kiss her, but he figured now probably wasn’t the time. Instead, he held out his open palm and summoned the Star-Razor. Turning to face Sabian he put the sword to the half-elf’s neck, putting just enough pressure on the skin for Sabian to feel it. “You’re going to come with me, and you’re going to cooperate.”

“Why the hell would I do that?”

“Because if you don’t, I’ll kill you.”

“We both will,” Jester corrected helpfully. “We like to do couple things together like get revenge on dumb, small dicked cowards like yourself.”

Sabian’s eyes flitted from Jester to Fjord, confusion mixing with a growing sense of fear. “Fine, I’ll go with you.”

�� “Holy shit, that’s him?” Beau asked as Yasha tied up Sabian in one of the storage rooms on the lower decks.

“Yeah,” Fjord nodded. “Yasha, could you maybe gag him too?”

“Love too,” Yasha answered, and passed over two different pieces of cloth before finding a dirty rag and shoving it in Sabian’s mouth.

Fjord was going to buy her a hundred flowers for that alone.

“Hold on, I don’t want him to hear us talking.” Jester turned and cast a quick spell, “There. I cast silence on him, now he can’t hear us and even better we won’t be able to hear him.”

“Thanks,” Fjord ran a hand down her back. “We should get the rest of the Nein down here. I don’t want to go far in case he manages to get out of those manacles.”

“I’ll get the others,” Beau offered, then turned towards the stairs and shouted at the top of her lungs for rest of the group. With a triumphant grin she looked back to Fjord. “There, they should be here in a second.”

“I think you destroyed one of my ear drums.”

Beau shrugged and didn’t even pretend to hide her grin, but good as her word, the other three members of the Mighty Nein came below decks. “You bellowed, Beau?”

“Fjord and Jester kidnapped Sabian-“

“Sparky,” Jester corrected. “We’re calling him Sparky now because he was rude to Fjord.”

“Cool,” Beau acknowledged. “And now I guess we’re going to interrogate him. Is that the plan?”

“We didn’t really plan much further than bringing him to the ship,” Fjord admitted. “But I think Jester figured out why Sabian did what he did.”

“I think Uk’otoa got to him,” Jester explained. “Or maybe Avantika? Possibly Vandran, but either way I think Sabian found out there was a powerful sea god who could give him powers, and what better way to prove your allegiance than to gift him with a dozen drowned sailors?”

“You think he blew up the boat to get in Uk’otoa’s good graces?”

“What other reason would he have had?” Jester asked Veth.

“She’s right,” Caduceus nodded. “It was just a merchant ship, wasn’t it? There was no strategic reason to bring it down, and you said the ship was practically empty, didn’t you Fjord?”

“Yeah, we were on our way to pick up cargo.”

“And it’s not like Sabian had insurance on the ship. There was no reason to bring down the Tide’s Breath except to kill everyone on board.”

“He’s not very powerful,” Fjord pointed out. “If he’s got magic, he doesn’t have a lot of it.”

“Power comes from experience,” Caleb explained. “If he’s been hiding out on the island since the sinking, then he’s not exactly testing his boundaries.”

“Coward,” Beau muttered.

“That’s what I said!” Jester laughed. “I also said he has a small dick, but I don’t know that personally.”

“He looks like a guy with a small dick,” Yasha nodded sagely. “Probably can’t hold his liquor either.”

Beau leaned over to look at Sabian. “You’re totally right, babe.”

“So what are we going to do with him?” Veth asked, refocusing the conversation. “Cause if we have to share our rations with a prisoner he’s not getting any of mine.”

“The Plank King gave us 24 hours to take care of our business, and while I think Jester’s right about why, I still have a lot of questions. After that, I think we should give him over to the locals and let them deal with him.”

“They can’t have good opinions about men who kill their fellow crew members,” Caleb agreed. “They’ll exact their own justice.”

“Hopefully the same kind of justice they gave Avantika,” Jester muttered. “But hopefully this time he doesn’t creepily climb over our ship as an undead sea witch.”

Veth shivered at the memory. “The less we can have that happen, the better.”

“Someone make a scary ‘let’s kill him’ gesture,” Jester ordered and without missing a beat Yasha drew her thumb across her neck and then looked directly at Sabian.

“That should not have been as sexy as it was,” Beau commented and Fjord rolled his eyes.

“Keep it in your pants, Beau.”

She glared at him and then they both just grinned.

“Okay, I’m going to talk to him, see what info I can get.” He looked down at Jester, “Mind being my muscle for a little bit longer?”

Jester put her hand over her heart and looked incredibly sincere as she looked him in the eye. “It would be my honor, Fjord.”

“Let us know if you need any help,” Caduceus offered. “I don’t think I’d be any good at interrogating a live person, but it might be interesting to find out.”

A chuckle rippled through the group and then they dispersed.

“Ready?” Jester asked.

“One thing first.” Fjord tugged Jester out of Sabian’s eyeline and leaned down to kiss her. Jester rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him back, both of them just taking the moment before Fjord eventually pulled away.

“What was that for?” Jester asked.

“I need a reason?”

She smiled and shook her head. “Not normally, no. But that felt like it had a reason.”

“Just… thanks for having my back.”

“Anytime,” she promised. “Now, let’s get Sparky to pee his pants.”

Fjord waited until he stopped laughing before walking into the room. “Mind getting rid of the spell?”

“Oh, right.” Jester waved her hand and they could suddenly hear the grunting of Sabian fighting against the binds and gag.

“Before we let you have your say, there’s a couple things I want you to hear.” Fjord once again made the Star Razor appear and he rested the tip against the wood of the floor and spun it around idly. “I’d like to have answers, it would make everything quite a bit easier, but the thing is: I’ve lived without answers for a while now, and I think I could live the rest of my life without them.”

Sabian’s eyes darted behind him, and without looking Fjord knew Jester and created her serrated lollipop, the slightly purple glow reflecting off his sword was easily recognizable. “So the thing is, I could kill you, and move on. Eventually, I’ll forgot about you and the fish will eat you, and there will be no evidence you ever existed. Or…”

Tearing his eyes away from the terrifying spiritual candy, Sabian narrowed his eyes at Fjord. “Or what?”

“Or you could tell us what we want to know and go back to Darktow. As long as you don’t leave, we’ll let you live. Otherwise?” Fjord picked up the sword and swung it around. “I’m going to see how many times I can cut you before you beg for mercy.”

“Who the fuck are you?”

Fjord stepped forward, all the confidence and self-assurance he’d faked in the past now real, and smiled slow and wicked. “The lady already told you, I’m Captain Tusktooth. And you’re going to tell me what I want to know.”

[bitchiha]

hey!!! can you maybe do any of the boys that your heart would like and the request is; “them seeing/meeting your ex boyfriend for the first time” | so like the shisuirequest??

A/N: Yes I can write this for you!! I chose to write it for Kiba, Naruto and Sai! Bc Sai doesn’t get enough love =(^.^)=

✎ Meeting their s/o’s ex boyfriend!

Kiba

So allow me to paint the scene: it all starts when Kiba is walking you home from one of your routine walks together. He’s got his arm around your waist and he’s telling you about how Hianata almost passed out this morning when Naruto said hi to her. You both laugh as he finishes the memory and Akamaru trails behind you two panting happily.

You live on a pretty busy village street. So you normally see people you know all the time around your house. They’re always passing by to get groceries or go to one of the food stands nearby. So when someone calls out your name you turn around casually — expecting to see Shino or something.

But who you did not expect to see was your ex boyfriend running up to you, pushing passed people on the crowded street without batting an eye. He was kind of a douchebag.

Kiba immediately stops laughing as he feels your back tensing up around his arm. Akamaru starts growling lowly as a response to sensing both yours and Kibas alert.

Tbh tho.. The reason you’re probably the most panicked is because this is Kiba Inuzuka, you’re hotheaded boyfriend who’s just a smidge bit possessive... and he’s meeting your ex boyfriend who’s overconfident and well, for lack of better words - a douchebag.

Your ex walks up to you two and sizes up Kiba and omfg that pisses your boyfriend off. “Y/n, who’s this guy.” Definitely shows his canines (is it an accident? or did he do it to intimidate this dude? You’ll never know.)

Anyways, your ex is cocky as shit — let’s call him Makki. So he interrupts you before you even get the chance to explain to Kiba who he is, “-Oh y/n, you’ve never mentioned me? I’m Makki, her ex boyfriend.”

Dude probably eats up the pissed off look on Kibas face. Like he’s yikes lmfao he’s really pissed off.

Like who does this cocky shit think he is?? Kiba is ready to fight lol “Oh yeah buddy, that’s real good for yo-“

Your ex just cuts him off... like blatantly ignores Kiba and turns to you, “It’s been a while y/n, you still look as gorgeous as ever...” he winks at you and Kiba growls LMFAOO, but Makki just ignores him. “We’d been together for so long y/n, so how come I never knew you liked... dogs so much.” He stares at Kiba right when he says dogs and he gives him this appalled expression on his face

Kibas confused for a second bc dogs are cute....“But there’s nothing wrong with dogs- oh wait! Hey were you trying to insult me you knucklehead!”

HOLD KIBA BACK HOLD KIBA BACK FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

So you’ve got your boyfriend held back, but you forgot about Akamaru.. rookie mistake. Now that giant dog is running towards Makki and the boy starts sprinting for dear life.

Kiba has a good laughing fit at the sight, “that’ll show him.” But you’re concerned because yes your ex is a douchebag and you did enjoy watching him run away scared, but you don’t want Akamaru to get in trouble for this. So you tell Kiba to go find Akamaru this instant.

“All right all right I’ll get em now... See you tomorrow, same time as today?” You nod hurriedly, wanting him to go Asap. You watch him run off before opening the door to your house and going inside.

Which was another rookie mistake.

Once you were inside he stopped running. He placed his hands behind his neck in a relaxed way as he strolled down the street, whistling like he didn’t have a dog to chase down.

“Have at em’ Akamaru”

Naruto

Yup.. you guessed it, this takes place at Ichirakus. It’s a Friday night and you two had no missions or other commitments to take care of, so he swung by your place and insisted you two go out for ramen.

So there you two sat, chatting away between mouthfuls of ramen when your ex boyfriend slides into the seat next to you.

Narutos oblivious tbh.

Like your ex just sits an elbow on the table and looks at you with a smirk, “hey, y/n, long time no see.” And you’re like.. ew wtf are you doing here.

Unlike Kiba, Naruto can’t pick up on your distaste, he just thinks it’s an old friend of yours. “Hey babe, who’s this guy?”

Your ex just introduces himself by his name and you decide to leave it at that, if you tell Naruto he’s your ex he will just get difficult to handle. So, you introduce Naruto as Naruto to avoid your ex getting all competitive too.

So you kinda avoid all relationship talk altogether and just completely skip over that fact. Honestly you’re half glad you did because Naruto actually gets along with him. Like for starters they both like ramen, are knuckleheaded and very loud. You definitely have a type. And they’re super funny too, so the whole time they’re just kinda laughing with eachother.

Had a good 15 minute long conversation about their favourite instant noodle brand and roasted you for the brand you liked. “Really y/n, that’s shameful.” They both say it in unison.

Also, your ex didnt have the intention to come into Ichirakus and crash your date, it was just a coincidence. So there was no ulterior motives to his presence and he’s not the type of guy to do it tbh. To top it all off he ends up paying for the ramen. Your ex literally pays for both you and Narutos ramen.

Such a weird experience for you tbh, but it’s also kinda funny to watch them both oblivious to your relationship with them.

At the end of the night when your ex heads home, you tell Naruto. Like you’re strolling through the busy Friday night rush and you finally spring it on him because he won’t shut up about your ex.

“Wow that guy was so cool y/n, never knew you had friends like that!” “Well actually Naruto, hes sorta my ex boyfriend.”

His eyes pop out of his head. “WHAT and you’re just telling me this now??” He’s in his head like: damn I should have showed off more or I should have made more jokes to prove that I’m the better one. He’s also like: shit he’s so cool how can he compete???!!1!1!1

Tries to hate your ex from then on, but they’re just so alike he literally cannot.

Luckily you don’t ever run into him like that again.

Sai

So.. let’s just be real here.. if you’re dating Sai you clearly have a type. You go for those emo little artsy boys. The only problem is that your ex boyfriend was an emo preppy rich art boy. You couldn’t stand his attitude anymore so you two broke up.

The only problem is that you live in the Leaf village and there’s very limited art events, so you would always bump into him. Luckily you hadn’t run into him with Sai around.. until now lol

You’re with Sai at an art exhibit that you managed to get him to submit work for. He was hesitant at first, but he gave in because you kept asking, and if he was being honest he wouldn’t mind showing some of his pieces.

So there you two are, standing together like that emo art couple that you are when your ex boyfriend walks in. He literally looks like the definition of avant garde. When he sees you he’s prepared to make some condescending comment, but then he sees Sai and he’s like: oh shit

Let’s be real here if anyone saw you and Sai together it would be an “oh shit” moment. You’re just an art power couple. That doesn’t mean your exes snobbiness would let him back down though.

So, this dude wants to prove he’s superior. When he walks up to the two of you he flat out interrupts the conversation and is like, “y/n, nice to see you,” then he turns to Sai and jusy gets down to business “so? You like art, then?”

Sai doesn’t comprehend the hostility in your ex’s tone so he answers it with a smile, prepared to tell him that this is actually his exhibit before he’s Interrupted again. “-Oh so you like art then? Okay, describe what mediums are used here.” your ex points at one of Sai’s paintings, not aware that he literally fucking painted it because he didn’t let Sai finish speaking.

So of course Sai answers and goes into a whole ramble about what mediums and why and how they bring out the details. Your ex kinda stands there like: “oh shit” again bc damn, he knows his shit.

He just points at another painting and is like, “what about this one.” And as your ex turns to study it better himself he realizes it’s literally you. It’s a painting that Sai did of you when you two first met eachother, you’re laying on the grass laughing and there’s orange hues dancing across your face indicating that the sun is setting. It’s one of Sais absolute favourites.

It’s such a bomb ass fucking painting and your ex just kinda stares at it confused and shook and you have to explain, “my boyfriends work is in this exhibit, he painted that one of me.”

But as I said, your ex is a douchebag and he’s not going to let your boyfriend get a compliment from him so he just goes, “hmph, it’s nothing special.”

And that kinda bothers Sai because that’s his girlfriend in that painting therefore it is very special.

You know where this is going. Naruto said the same line to him before LOL

So Sai hits him with this signature line, “just like your dick.” AND HE SAYS IT W THE FAKE SMILE LMFAO

Now your ex is literally dead. Like he’s flamed. On the floor straight up incinerated. And your trying to hide your laughter.

Security has to escort the guy out.

Very memorable moment for the two of you.

10/10

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hot Blood [1]

Warnings: non-consent sex

This is dark! (mob) skinny Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Synopsis: Steve Rogers is on the rise in the New York underground as you’re trying to keep your own place there.

Note: This will only be two parts because I couldn’t fit it into a oneshot. Yes, I took liberties in terms of not making Steve brittle as a twig so forgive me for that. Also this is back in the 1940s, so keep that in mind. :) Otherwise, I love writing my skinny boy and hope you like it too.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You wanna prove you're the better man You wanna reach for the things that nobody can

🌆

You checked your watch as you strode down the sidewalk. You felt the snugness of the bundle just under your jacket as you pulled your hat lower over your eyes. At the right angle, you seemed a man about his business. A closer look and you were nothing but a woman in pinstripe trousers.

Another day, another drop. You were tiring of the tawdry tasks but the reality of your position, of your sex, was inevitable. The men were back from the war and the women were expected to return to their kitchens. Well, most of them.

It was easier in the days before victory. When you were the one sending others on your tasks. But Vic had survived his campaign in Italy and he was back with a vengeance, and few scars. The only thing which kept him from tossing you entirely was that you’d kept his organization afloat in his absence. You’d even thrown the feds off his trail and onto another’s.

Even so, life wasn’t what it was. You had to take orders, had to swallow your pride. Well, it was better than living as some bastard’s wife; better than a secretary in a tight skirt. You checked the time again and looked ahead to the brick building with the rusted horseshoe over its door.

You neared and leaned against the bricks. You turned to face the street and watched pedestrians pass. You knocked with your elbow. Two knocks, a pause, then three more. You waited and listened. The door shifted and you spun quickly as you muttered “iodine” and the code word saw you past the man on the other side.

And yet, another change. The warehouse was empty. You looked to the man who’d answered the door. It wasn’t the usual fellow. You frowned and your hand went to your waist and felt the wooden inlay of your pistol.

“Wouldn’t do that,” The man warned. “Boss is on his way. He doesn’t care for corpses. Too much clean up.”

“Boss?” You kept your hand poised but didn’t draw. “And who exactly is your boss?”

“People fall for that?” He ignored your question as he pointed to your jacket. 

“Fall for what?”

“You don’t exactly fill out a three-piece,” He reached into your pocket and you gripped your gun. He pulled out a silver cigarette case and popped it open. “Well, you know…” He gestured to his shoulder, “In some ways.”

You scoffed and shook your head as he offered you a smoke. He shrugged and put one between his lips.

“You didn’t tell me who your boss was,” You said as he struck a match and lit the cigarette.

“Vic didn’t tell you?” He asked. “Heli don’t run Brooklyn anymore.”

“He mentioned there was trouble but there always is in Brooklyn,” You tilted your head and ran your finger along your pistol handle. 

He chuckled and took a drag.

“Bucky,” He held out his hand. “Boss will be here soon.”

You shook his hand and retreated, pacing two steps back and forth as you waited.

“This isn’t how it goes. I drop the money and go.” You stopped. “Never more than five minutes.”

“You got somewhere to be?” He asked. “You must be popular with the boys. Hell, war was so long, they’d fuck a hole in the wall.”

“I usually tell em to use the wall,” You countered. “You’re boss better show in the next five minutes or--”

The back door of the warehouse opened and shut suddenly. You turned as a shadow fluttered in the small slats of light which peeked in through the high windows.

“Kid took a wrong turn,” The voice sounded as footsteps cut through the silence. “You get the money.”

“Drop’s right here,” Bucky said as he nodded to you.

Your mouth fell open as you saw the man who appeared before you. Short, slender; skinny, actually. Even his tailored suit added little to his figure and his chin seemed even sharper in contrast to the angles of his hat. His blue eyes met yours and he removed the hat.

“Miss,” He seemed as surprised as you felt.

You laughed. You didn’t mean to. You covered your mouth before you could guffaw and looked at Bucky.

“That the new boss man?” You asked.

“Steve Rogers,” The skinny man said tersely. “And yes, I’m the boss man so you talk to me, not him.”

“Course,” You said coolly. “Vic wants a single load through Brooklyn.” You carefully reached into your jacket and dislodged the bundle of money from the waist of your pants. “Tomorrow, clearance till noon.”

He watched you and then his eyes flicked to the money. Usually, they saw the green first.

“Your husband let you run around playing these games?” He asked.

“We know this isn’t a game,” You said. “And, if I did have a husband, he couldn’t keep me from my business.”

He chuckled.

“Sorry, I’m just, a little amused. I expected a man.” He said.

“Me, too,” You tossed the money at his feet. “But I guess they’re all busy doing the real work.”

His smile fell. He toed the money but didn’t take it.

“You gonna wear the pants, you gonna be treated like what you’re pretending to be,” He beckoned Bucky forward. “Cause I don’t see a lady.”

“No, you don’t,” You said defiantly as Bucky came closer. 

Steve nodded and Bucky bent to grab the money. You held Steve’s gaze, the anger obvious in their glint as his narrow jaw ticked.

“Tell Vic he’s got til noon. Sharp.” He said. “Bucky, see her out.”

He put his hat back on and turned away. Bucky waved you away and you followed him back to the door. His hand rested on the metal handle and he paused.

“Put the torch to this place,” He said. “Next drop will be on our ground.”

“Sure,” You said and he pushed down.

“Oh,” Bucky stopped as he opened the door just a sliver. “I’m not much for advice but work on the lip. He won’t put up with that for long.”

“Not my boss,” You uttered. “He got his money.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He shook his head and opened the door. 

You stepped out into the sunlight and strode away. You’d have a word with Vic. You’d think he’d have enough sense to mention a change in personnel but he hadn’t had much sense since he returned.

🌆

You sat along the bar as voices buzzed in the late morning din. The old pub which had glowed during Prohibition had grown darker over the years. With rationing, it had become lifeless, barely revived in the post-war jubilance. It didn’t matter much; it had never been meant for just booze, merely a cover for more illicit trades.

As usual, Vic was in his office. He wasn’t the same talkative man he had been, though his temper had worsened. When he wanted to be heard, he made sure of it. His propensity for violence had turned to an indifference to violence. There was no barrier left between him and blood. His hair trigger made him vulnerable; it made you all vulnerable.

The bar door shook and you looked over. Several bangs before the latch busted and Donny burst in with Richie hanging from his shoulder. He dragged the bleeding man inside and dropped him onto the floor as he fell to his knees. You rose and quickly shut the door. No one used that door during the day.

“Get rags,” Arnold called and rushed behind the bar.

Donny’s arm was bleeding as Richie gripped his side, his hands red and wet. Arnold tossed you a rag and you bent beside Richie. You took his hand and pressed the rag between it and his side. You applied pressure as Donny tied up his arm with his belt.

“What fuck happened?” You ask as you leaned on Richie and tried to stem the flow.

Arnold ran out calling for Pauly. He’d been a medic during the war but tended to drink away whatever use he had left to the organization. He was likely sleeping off last night in one of the stinky rooms above that were rented out by the hour.

“Where’s the cargo?” Vic asked as he appeared in the broad archway which parted the barroom from the kitchen and his office.

“Christ, he’s bleeding out, Vic,” You hissed as Donny handed you another cloth and grabbed another for his arm.

“We got hit.” Donny leaned heavily on a stool. “It’s gone.”

“What the fuck?” Vic swore. “Who--”

“Rogers,” Richie gasped and you scrambled to keep the crimson from leaking past your fingers. “He said…”

“Take was short.” Donny finished. “Five shy.”

“Five shy. No, I gave him the right drop,” You insisted.

Arnold brushed by Vic and Pauly ambled in beside him. The former dropped the small chest of bandages and the like beside Richie as the latter came around to you and yawned as he knelt. He casually waved you away and took the rags from you. He peeked under them and pressed down.

“Got a lighter?” He asked. “Get me some tweezers.”

You held up your bloody hands and Arnold got down to search through the box ox of odds and ends.

“New boss, new prices,” Donny uttered. “S’what they said before they…” He looked at Richie and blanched.

“God fucking dammit, I new that little rat was up to no good,” Vic punched his palm. “Had the gall to come in here and put an offer down on this shit hole like he can buy what I built for a couple bills.”

“What?” You reeled as you tried to wipe clean your hands. “He made you an offer?”

“He’s a goddamn upstart,” He snarled. “I seen his kind back before the war, when the Depression had us scraping trash cans for dinner. He’d sell his own mother. Probably has.”

“How can he-- Heli didn’t have that much going on.” You argued.

“The twerp spent a couple years up in Chicago before he decided to come home and make his stake,” Vic said. “Too skinny to serve so he ran wild over there. Now he’s got a gun and some money and he thinks he can just take the whole city.”

“Hold him down!” Pauly yelled and you looked over as he was digging the tweezers into Richie’s side. The wail which rose was sickening.

“Vic, you didn’t even tell me he’d taken over,” You snarled. “Now I double counted that take but you’re the one who arranged it. He said fifteen not twenty, right?”

“I told him I wouldn’t give him any more than I did Heli.” He sneered.

“And?” You urged.

“He said we’d see. And I never heard nothing else.” He growled.

“You didn’t hear anything or you just made an assumption?”

“I handled worse over in Italy,” He grumbled. “Little twit doesn’t scare me.”

“It’s not just him,” You huffed. 

It was so much easier when he was gone. You and Arnold had been a great team. He was too old to serve and he was wise; pragmatic. Don’t play big, play smart.

“Another word,” Vic warned. “I’m tired of the fucking mouth on you. Men go away for a couple years and all you bitches learned to bark.”

“If we hadn’t, you’d have nothing to come back to,” You retorted. “And I learned more than how to bark.”

“You think you know it all. You run around in your suits and play gangster, little girl.” He snarled. “I saw men holding their insides; I ran into a haze of bullets and you did what? Gave away your stockings and baked cakes without sugar.”

“You got a man holding his insides right here,” You snapped. “I should’ve let Crane have this place. I drove that snake out on my own. Me. So don’t you call me little girl.”

A knock interrupted him as his face turned red. The front door had fallen open as a figure leaned in the doorway. So slim it could only be one person. You reached for your gun along with Vic and Donny. The other men continued their struggle on the floor.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Rogers?” Vic pulled the hammer back on his gun.

“Wow,” Steve stopped a few feet inside and several men, including Bucky, entered behind him, guns in hand. “I’m not here for a fight, if I can help it. I’m here for the rest of my take.”

“You already shot my men. I don’t owe you shit.” Vic hissed.

Steve chuckled and put his hands on his hips. He looked to the floor, the blood, the whimpers, then to you. He took his hat off and nodded in your direction.

“But I see they’re still alive.” Steve said. “And I got your cargo. More than willing to hand it over so long as I get my dues.”

“Maybe it wasn’t that skinny fucking ass that kept out of the war; maybe it was that peanut brain,” Vic said.

“I’m all for negotiating,” Steve said coolly. “But I’m gonna need you to calm down, Victor.”

“Calm down. I want my goods.” He insisted. “And my money back.”

“I don’t often give warnings,” Steve’s voice was even and quiet. Scarily calm. “But I will allow you one. I will finish what my men started and then I will burn this place with your bodies inside of it. Then I will hunt down every man who ever tied himself to your limping horse and put them next to you in the ashes.”

“Bull,” Vic scoffed.

“Jeffrey, by the bridge,” Steve said. “Friendly guy. Knows a lot about the city. Gave me an interesting little map. Looks like safe houses… in your neighbourhood. I don’t need to barter with you, Victor, but I am, because I can be nice. I prefer it over having to get mean.”

“Jeffrey,” Vic shook his head. “That shit.”

“Oh yes, if it wasn’t for his ties out west, I’d already have done him in myself but… he has his uses.”

Silence but for Richie groans and the squelch of flesh and blood. You glanced between the two men. Vic looked tired. You realised he was halfway drunk.

“How long? For the five I owe you?” He slowly lowered his gun.

“How long?” Steve smirked. “I’m not leaving without it.”

“Don’t keep my safe here. That’d be too obvious.” Vic said.

“No? Or maybe… you don’t got it?” Steve challenged. “Besides, I can’t trust you to send anyone for it because I can’t have them returning with more than the bills, can I?”

Victor was quiet and you glanced back at him. He looked lost. It was a look which had become common for him. As if he was far away.

“But…” Steve said. “There is value beyond paper.”

“Take a cut,” You intoned as Vic remained speechless. “That would more than even the debt.”

“And have to sell it myself? No.” He said. “But I do see something that I want.”

Steve’s heels tapped on the old floorboards and he stopped before you. You stared at him then looked around. You lifted a brow as you looked back to him. He touched your gun and you lowered it. You wanted to raise it again but Richie’s cries tugged at your ears. He took the pistol.

“I’ll take her,” He touched the lapel of your jacket.

“What? No, that’s not--”

“Fine,” Vic agreed a little too quickly. “All yours. But I’ll let you know, she’s a mouthy one.”

“Oh, I know,” Steve winked at you. “But you won’t get anywhere if you’re not bold.”

“You can’t--”

“I can,” Steve leaned in as he lowered his voice. “Because if you leave this bar without me, you won’t get far. I put the word out and you’re dead before nightfall…” He straightened your jacket. “But I prefer you living.”

He drew back and walked back to his men.

“Truck’s out front. All is accounted for. Ledger’s are balanced.” He said. “For now.”

You were jolted forward as Bucky grabbed your arm. You hadn’t seen him approach and he easily dragged you along as Steve left with his men in tow. You were numb but angry. You struggled until Bucky had your arm twisted behind your back.

“I told you,” He said. “He doesn’t like the back talk.”

🌆

You were silent as you peered through the windshield then glanced at the man in the driver’s seat. Bucky had wrestled you into the car himself but it had taken the flash of a muzzle to get you to stay.

Steve sat beside you in the back of the long car. He still had your pistol in hand and you watched as he emptied the bullets and dropped them in his pocket. He turned the gun over in his hand and ran his fingertip along the wood inlay carved with intricate grooves.

“This is a nice piece,” He said. 

He checked the chamber one last time and handed it back to you. You holstered the pistol and leaned into the door as you looked out onto the streets. The buildings were strangely familiar.

“Where are we going?” You asked.

“You talking to me?” Steve countered. You turned to him and arched a brow. “Because when you are talking to me, you need to look at me, doll.”

“My name isn’t doll,” You crossed your arms. “This isn’t Brooklyn.”

“We’ll get to that,” He said. “You should be more than familiar with these slums.”

You squinted and shook your head.

“How did you--”

“I got eyes across the city and a woman like you sticks out,” He said. “Now, I’d like to forget our first meeting and start off on a better note.”

“Yeah? Do you usually buy people like race horses.” You scoffed.

“You’re a fine mare,” He grinned. “But that mouth does you a disservice.”

“So, what exactly do you want? You want me to say you’re a big man? Tell you you’re the boss?” You taunted. “I wonder how that ego fits in that body.”

“One thing at a time, doll,” He said.

“It’s not ‘doll’,” You growled. 

He chuckled and propped his elbow up on the door.

“My eyes have ears. They’ve told me a lot about you.” He said. “Must be hard with all the men back in town. I dare say, you might have been rooting for the other side.”

“Oh?” Your nostrils flared at the implication. “You running with those double-dealing bastards down in Chicago and you’re accusing me of sedition.”

“Chicago was a stepping stone,” He waved you off. “And a valuable ally. This world’s a whole lot bigger than five boroughs.”

The car stopped and you looked past Steve. Your building stood just outside his window and you sighed.

“No doubt bigger than you,” You rolled your eyes. “I’m not dumb enough to think you’re just giving me a ride home…”

“We got ten minutes,” He checked his watch as he opened his door. “Grab what you need. I got a schedule to keep.”

He got out and you pushed open your own door. You rounded the front of the car and peered down the sidewalk. You could run. The thought was tempting, but if Steve could figure out where you lived in less than a day, he could likely suss you out just as easily.

You followed him up the cracked walk of the building and he opened the grated door for you. You shot him a look before you stepped through. You fished around for your keys and unlocked the second metal door. He trailed you up the narrow staircase and you came to your door among the row of cramped apartments.

You entered with him behind you. His footsteps were light and barely disturbed the creaky floorboards. He closed the door swiftly as you glanced around your tiny home. There wasn’t much to it but it was yours. 

He brushed past you and went to the small kitchen which was barely more than a sink and stove. He pulled open the drawers one at a time and shuffled through them.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

He held up a box of bullets and shook them.

“Grab some clothes,” He said as he continued his search. “And anything else you need.”

You let out a breath and rounded the threadbare sofa. You went to the small closet on the other side of the apartment and slid open the accordion door. Inside hung jackets in varying tones of monochrome and pants to match. Dress shirts and vests filled out the rest of the assortment. You sensed movement behind you as you reached for a hanger.

“That’s all you got?” He asked as he came up beside you and tutted. 

You looked over at him as he slid the hangers from side to side and examined your clothes.

“No, no, this won’t do,” He said. 

“What are you--”

“This,” He tugged on your sleeve. “Is doing you no favours. Not to worry, I’ll send for some nice skirts, a couple dresses--”

“No,” You said pointedly. “No, I won’t--”

“You’re not getting this, are you?” He sneered. “I don’t need some pussycat in a suit, I got more men than I can count.” You stared at him as foreboding roiled in your stomach. “What I need is a gal on my arm,” He reached out and touched your cheeks. “With a pretty smile,” His fingers crept down your neck and rested on your shoulders, “In a pretty little number.”

You grabbed his wrists and tried to shove him away. Despite his slim figure, he was stronger than you expected. He twisted his arms around and grabbed your wrists. He drew you close.

“If you were a man, you wouldn’t have left that warehouse,” He growled. “So consider yourself lucky…” His eyes drifted down. “The walk gives you away. Your hips…” He tilted his head from side to side. “The ass…”

“Get off of me,” You hissed and pulled away. He released you and you nearly stumbled.

“Don’t bother with the clothes,” He sighed. “But grab whatever else you need; hairbrush, soap… I guess you wouldn’t have lipstick, would you?”

“You really that hard-up for a girl?” You laughed dryly.

He smiled and licked his lips. “Women aren’t as complicated as they pretend to be. Not if you got your pockets full. So no, not hard-up for a girl… just you, doll.”

“Not doll,” You huffed and spun away from him. His low laughter made your lip curl.

“Five minutes,” He warned.

[golchaworld]

Brown Sugar, Cinnamon Spice | H. HJ

pairing: baker!hyunjin x wedding planner!reader, (implied fem!reader), various celebrity cameos

genre: tooth-rotting fluff, a pinch of angst

word count:  5.4k

warnings: none!

summary: amidst stress and loneliness, you find your own decadence.

A/N:  this is probably the longest fic I’ve written in the shortest amount of time!  This only took me a few days start to finish.  I guess I was super in love with the concept, and I hope y’all are too.  As always, comments, critiques, and feedback are welcome and encouraged.  My ask box is always open.  Enjoy :D

You swear you’re going to die from a sugar overdose.  Not from the piece of red velvet cheesecake sitting in front of you, but instead from the gazes that the couple in front of you shares.  They fuss and coo, feeding each other different types of cake with disgustingly sweet smiles on their faces.  It would be cute...if you didn’t have to deal with this everyday.

Planning weddings was always your dream.  There was something so whimsical about the aura of weddings, the aura of love, that was always destroyed by the stress of planning.  Ever since you were little, you vowed to take as much stress off of engaged couples as possible, in order to let them bask in the excitement of getting married.

Four years after college, and here you are, the best wedding planner in the city.  The best wedding planner in the city, and absolutely, devastatingly single.

It’s not that you expected to be happily married by 25, but it would be nice to at least have a boyfriend, a significant other, someone.  But no, instead you’re forced to help happy couples as they live out your dream.  All too often you find yourself wishing you were in the place of the bride-to-be, having a fiancé to fawn over.

It’s sad, really, the way you watch the couple across from you as they bask in their pre-marital bliss.  Every glance feels intimate.  Every spoonful that they feed to each other feels private.  You smile sadly before clearing your throat.

“I’ll leave you two to go through more of the cakes.  Let me know when you guys make a decision.  I’ll be waiting up front.”

The couple dismisses you with a wave, barely taking their eyes off of each other.  You just set your shoulders and smooth out the blouse that’s tucked artfully into your skirt.  Your heels make a satisfying click as you make your way to the front counter, adorned with cases of pastries and other sinful sweets.  It’s the one behind the counter, however, that makes your head fill with sugar.

Hwang Hyunjin was more than just a familiar face. He was a college acquaintance, mutual friends always having the two of you running into each other. After graduation, the two of you were the only ones who decided to stay in the city, some twisted stab of fate bringing you closer. 

You can say he’s your glorified best friend. The two of you aren’t exactly the closest, but you see each other often enough that conversation has moved from awkward to easy, distant to friendly. It also helps that the both of you have entered a sort of...business agreement. 

You send any couples needing to taste cakes to his bakery first. When anyone comes to him with an order for a large event that needs planning, he sends them your way. 

Now, the man just looks relaxed, smiling at you with a streak of white flour on his cheek. He leans one arm against the counter and you struggle not to look down at the way it flexes. Hyunjin always said that baking proves to be a full body workout. You can’t help but agree. 

“Which one are they leaning towards?” Hyunjin asks in lieu of greeting. 

“No idea.” You scrunch your nose in disgust. “They were too busy feeding each other and flirting to make any actual judgements about the cake.”

Hyunjin giggles in that unique way of his, high pitched and muted. His cheeks scrunch up, causing crow’s feet to form around his eyes. The flour flakes off in some spots. 

“You can’t blame them,” Hyunjin teases. “They’re in love. Unlike a certain grumpy pants over here.”

You scoff at his insinuations. 

“Don’t be jealous, Y/N.”

“I am not jealous! It would just make my life a lot easier if they just chose the damn cake.”

Hyunjin cocks an eyebrow. “Which one of us is actually baking it again?”

You roll your eyes. “Shut it, Hyunjin.”

The bell above the door chimes, announcing the arrival of a new wave of customers. Hyunjin shoots a wink your way before heading over to the cash register. He has on his salesman smile, and that alone has the group of girls in front of him swooning. 

In college,  Hwang Hyunjin was the mega-hot culinary business student who never slept around and went to church every Sunday. Now Hyunjin is the mega-hot baker-slash-bakery owner who may or may not sleep around but still goes to church every Sunday. It’s fair to say that the entire city is in love with him. 

They have a right to be, of course. Hyunjin is a hot, young, single guy who bakes for crying out loud. He specializes in wedding cakes. What 26 year old man specializes in wedding cakes?

Hyunjin, the anomaly that he is, is the apple of everyone’s eye, a diamond in the rough, a sweet lawn in the concrete jungle. He’s a breath of fresh air, coated in sugary sweetness. 

And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want him. 

Even now, you watch how he makes small talk with his customers, how he shoots them small smiles and flirty winks. He lays the charm on thick; anything to get them to buy an extra cannoli, he says. And like a moth to a flame, you’re drawn in. You’re drawn into his sweet smile, his long blonde hair, the beauty mark under his left eye. It leaves you with a sugar rush. 

Eventually, you’re called back to reality by your clients approaching. They decide on a simple yellow cake with the strawberry and vanilla pudding filling. Internally, you smile, knowing that it’s Hyunjin’s best seller...obviously for a reason. 

You leave the couple with a reassurance that you’ll set up an appointment with Hyunjin to go over the design of the cake. They mentioned that they already have pre-determined cake toppers, and you fight not to roll your eyes. It’s always the cheesiest when the couples pick their own toppers. 

You plaster on a smile and wave them goodbye, watching as the door closes behind them with a soft thud, the bell above still chiming. You glance down at your wristwatch and sigh. You have 15 minutes to get to Yeji’s dress fitting, all the way across the city. You straighten your shoulders, fix your blouse, and give Hyunjin one last glance on the way out. 

He winks in return. 

.         .         .

The catch of Hyunjin being your pseudo-best friend is that he has to take care of you. Not that you need a lot of taking care of. But at the end of a long work day, Hyunjin is always there to pick up the pieces. He always gives you a choice of desserts to make the day better, and today you choose to do so with tiramisu. 

You practically groan when the first bit of coffee cream hits your tastebuds, followed by the bittersweet hint of cocoa powder. The cake is rich and moist, melting on your tongue in a way that’s not overly decadent. It’s not until you hear a chuckle from across from you do you realize that your eyes are closed. 

When you open them, Hyunjin beams at you from across the counter, laughing at the way you’re indulging in your dessert. 

“Stop laughing at me,” you command around a mouthful of cream. 

“I’m not! It’s just,” Hyunjin tucks a blonde strand behind his ear. “You eat this tiramisu like twice a week, and every time you act like it’s the first...or like it’s going to be your last.”

“You should take it as a compliment.”

Hyunjin chuckles again. “Maybe I do.”

The bakery has a different aura at night. Instead of the lively buzz of coffee cups and sugar rushes, it’s bathed in a velvety decadence, illuminated by the subtle light of the pastry display. All of the chairs have been put up for the night, all of the leftover pastries have been discarded, all of the employees gone for the night. It just leaves you, Hyunjin, and the bold cream of tiramisu. 

The first time Hyunjin had invited you to the bakery after hours, you thought he was joking. The two of you hadn’t been that close yet, and spending secluded, unstructured time together seemed like a recipe for disaster. To your surprise, however, the night was comfortable and casual, spent test-tasting various desserts and laughing over various college memories. 

It surprised you how much Hyunjin embraced you when everyone else from school moved onto different things. In a city this big, it wouldn’t have been hard for him to disregard you completely. You stay up at night wondering why he didn’t.

“So, how was the fitting?”

Hyunjin looks genuinely interested as you recount the details of your day. At a certain point he even reaches for a fork, indulging in the tiramisu with you. With his cheeks full to the brim, he nods, smiles and inserts commentary wherever necessary. Hyunjin has always been the best listener.

“Why do you plan weddings if it stresses you out so much?”

You pout at Hyunjin’s questions. “Why do you run a bakery if it stresses you out so much?”

“Because I get to eat delicious treats at the end of the day.”

You smirk. “So do I.”

“Touché,” Hyunjin smiles. 

The two of you are quiet for a moment, indulging in the last few bites of tiramisu. It makes you smile, the way Hyunjin is still in love with all of his desserts after having to make them all day, every day. After every bite he groans dramatically, pointing an accusatory finger at the cake to say “damn you for being so good.” 

When the tiramisu is finished, and all that’s left is the sound of forks scraping empty plates, Hyunjin sighs. 

“Are you going to plan your own?”

“My own wedding?” When Hyunjin nods in response, you chuckle sadly. “At this point, it looks like I’ll never even have a wedding, let alone have the chance to plan it.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes. “Don’t lie. I’m sure you have suitors lining up to take your hand in marriage.”

You scoff, picking up the plate that once held your tiramisu. You deposit it in the sink full of soapy water behind the counter, along with the fork. Hyunjin grabs your arm as you get closer, forcing you to face his looming form. 

“I’m being serious, you know.”

You shrug in response. “Maybe that’s the problem. My love life is such a joke that you being serious about it seems like an insult.”

“It wasn’t anything.”

“I know.”

“Then why—“

You’re quick to cut the man off. “It’s getting late, Hyunjin. I’ll see you, okay?”

You don’t wait for Hyunjin to respond, leaving the man nodding dumbly behind the counter. At the first whip of the harsh wind against your face, you groan. Hyunjin was supposed to be your ride home.

.        .        .

The thing about the city is that celebrity weddings are frequent. Celebrity weddings, known for their flashy, expensive decorations, and over-the-top attire single handedly wipe out your energy for the entire season. But they pay well. 

The money may or may not be the reason you sit in front of the Minatozaki Sana in your office, her hand being held by her fiancé. He’s a gorgeous man, with a strong jaw and high cheekbones. That much is expected as the fiancé of the top model in the country. 

“So do you guys have a date in mind?” You ask the couple, a warm smile glossing over your face. 

“Well,” Sana glances at her fiancé before returning your gaze. “We were hoping for November 18th.”

“Got it! So a year and a month isn’t too bad. It’s a little tight for planning, but—“

The fiancé chuckles. “Oh no, I think you’ve misunderstood. We meant November 18th, 2020. We want to get married next month.”

You can’t help the way your jaw drops. A month for a normal wedding would be hell on earth. A month for a celebrity wedding is like jumping head first into Dante’s Inferno. Your distress must be palpable, seeing as Sana’s brows furrow almost instantly. 

“That’s...doable right?” She asks with wide eyes. 

“Umm,” you rack your brain for words. “It’s going to be tight. Like really tight. But yes, it’s doable.”

Sana instantly lights up, clasping her fiancé’s hands in hers. “Oh wonderful! I’m so excited.”

You nod in agreement, plastering on the biggest smile you can manage. 

“Oh! And one more thing!” Sana’s eyes sparkle with excitement. “I want a Hwang Cake!”

.        .        .

Three hours later, you’re seated across from the engaged couple as the two indulge in a plethora of different cakes and icings. Hyunjin had managed to whip them all up in such a short amount of time, not once complaining about the pinch you put him in. At some point, though, you’ll have to tell him about the month until the wedding. You’re sure you’re going to hear some complaints then. 

Instead of Hyunjin being the face of the bakery today, it’s one of his employees, a short but bright boy by the name of Felix. He always wears glittery eyeshadow and a smile too big for his face, and it only adds to how endearing he is. You’d never met the human embodiment of cotton candy until Felix waltzed into the bakery on his first day of work. 

With Felix manning the register, Hyunjin is nowhere to be found. The only appearance he made was to hand-deliver the test cakes to Sana and her fiancé. He greeted them with a bright smile and many thanks for choosing his bakery. He only gave you a curt nod before disappearing behind the threshold of the kitchen. 

“The red velvet is to die for! Don’t you think, hun?”

Sana’s fiancé looks back at the woman as if she hung the stars, confessing his love for her and more with just one glance. Once again, you are reminded of what true love looks like. Once again, you feel jealousy brewing in the pit of your stomach. 

“It is. I love it with the cream cheese icing.”

Sana smiles. “I know you do. Cream cheese has always been your favorite. If only you could see that buttercream is superior.”

For a second, the couple just gaze at each other, basking in the vitality of a fresh engagement. You can tell that even though their romance was very spur of the moment, they will clearly last for a long time. 

Your chest hurts. 

“I think we’ll go with the red velvet and cream cheese icing.”

You’re quick to put on a smile. “Perfect! I’ll go let Hyunjin know, and then later we can make an appointment to figure out the design and aesthetics of the cake.”

“Sounds good.”

As you stand and approach the register, you can hear the couple begin to giggle to themselves, as if choosing a wedding cake flavor is the epitome of cloud nine. You suppose it might be. You wouldn’t know

Felix greets you with a smile when you arrive at the register, the corners of his eyes scrunching cutely. “How did it go?”

You can’t help but return the smile. “Good! They decided pretty quickly. Where’s Hyunjin, so I can let him know?”

“In the kitchen,” Felix points behind his shoulder with a thumb. “You can just head back there.”

“Thanks, Felix.”

You expect the hardcore rap music that’s playing through the speakers in the kitchen. It’s muted enough so that the rest of the bakery can’t hear it, but loud enough that Hyunjin can get lost in it. It’s endearing, the way he mumbles the words under his breath while he pipes bright orange frosting onto a black fondant cake. It’s always around this time that he has to perfect his Halloween treats. 

You wait until he’s done piping his row before calling his attention softly. “Hyunjin? They decided.”

Hyunjin doesn’t look up. He just moves on to piping the next row while he says, “and what did they decide?”

“Red velvet with the cream cheese icing.”

“Okay. We’ll make the appointment for later in the week.”

Hyunjin’s tone carries an air of finality to it. It’s formal, cold, and all too detached. Although the two of you have never been that close, this distance is still new from you. Hyunjin has never stood in front of you and felt miles away. 

“Okay.”  And when he doesn’t respond, “I’ll be back later, okay? After closing.”

Hyunjin stills for a moment before continuing his piping job, the movement almost imperceptible. “Tiramisu or cannoli?”

A sticky sweet smile blooms on your face. “Cannoli.”

.        .        .

The shell of the cannoli crunches deliciously, breaking the silence between you and Hyunjin. It’s once again after closing, but gone is the aura of awkwardness the two of you had left behind the previous night. Hyunjin glances at you, a small smirk gracing his face. 

“Is it good?”

You roll your eyes. “You know it’s good.”

“Maybe I do.” Hyunjin shrugs cutely, his white apron shifting in the process. 

He looks more up-kept than usual. His long hair is tied half up by a navy blue ribbon that matches the oversized sweater he wears. He’s wearing his jewelry, all of his piercings filled with earrings, various chunky rings adorning his fingers. But when you look down, you notice he’s still wearing his trademark neon green crocs. 

“Nice shoes.”

Hyunjin looks down before realizing what you’re referring to. “Oh shut up. You know they’re the comfiest for baking.”

“Maybe I do.”

You savor the taste of the whipped cream and ricotta as it hits your tongue. Hyunjin looks content to watch you enjoy the dessert, folding his arms over his chest as he eyes you. He’s not the slightest bit insecure about his work, knowing that no matter what he makes, you’ll love. 

It reminds you all too much of the first time you met Hyunjin, packed together inside a way-too-crowded frat party. Changbin, a mutual friend had grabbed you by the hand and pulled you through the crowd, insisting that there was someone you had to meet. You spotted Hyunjin long before you could make your way over. 

Hyunjin had been leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. His gaze had been disinterested, but confident, knowing that his presence alone was a gift in and of itself. At the time, he didn’t know how right he was. 

“You know, I didn’t mean to insult you yesterday.”

The man’s comment has you finally looking up from your cannoli, the last bite standing frozen between your fingers. After swallowing down a mouthful of filling, you clear your throat, slowly lowering the pastry down to the plate. 

“It’s okay. I think I just overreacted a bit.”

Hyunjin nods, arms still crossed tightly over his chest. Light glints off of one of his silver rings. “Why is it such a sore topic? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Honestly?” You chuckle bitterly to yourself. “Honestly, I don’t know. I guess I just expected something by now. But here I am, 25 years old, having a stable career, and having not had a relationship over half a decade. I just feel like I’m behind, you know?”

Surprisingly, Hyunjin nods. “I do. I mean, I’ve never had a relationship.”

This is news. Hwang Hyunjin, the star culinary student slash campus heartthrob has never had a relationship. Never? Even the thought seems ridiculous. 

The confusion must be evident on your face, because Hyunjin chuckles. “I know, I know. It’s silly, isn’t it?”

“Not silly! Just...surprising…”

“Well, I guess so.”

You’re still attempting to process your thoughts, unable to stop a slew of questions from leaving your mouth. “Why not, though? Have you never considered it? Have you never had your eye on someone?”

At this, Hyunjin’s eyes grow sad. The confident light in them disappears like a wisp of cotton candy in the wind. His eyes swim with a salty-sweetness. 

“I’ve actually always had my eye on someone. Since college, actually.”

Instantly, it clicks. “Oh! They must have moved away, right? Everyone moved away after college except us, and I know how sucky that must be for you. Gosh, I didn’t even consider that.”

Hyunjin traps a bubblegum bottom lip between his teeth, seemingly mulling something over in his head. His arm tenses, only once, before releasing. Hyunjin uncrosses his arms, choosing to lean forward onto the countertop. 

“I don’t think they left.”

Your eyes light up at the same time your heart falls. It’s so easy to fake not being hurt by the information, just like it’s easy to fake not wanting Hyunjin. Just like it’s easy to say that sticking around after hours is for work and not personal agendas. Just like it’s easy to be his pseudo-best friend. 

“Then why don’t you go for it?”

Hyunjin chuckles sadly. “I’m not even on their radar. Not like that.”

For the first time tonight, you laugh. You laugh genuinely and boldly. You laugh loudly, until tears are pooling in the corners of your eyes. Hyunjin just looks at you as if you are crazy, overcome with a laughing fit in the middle of his closed bakery. But you can’t help it; it’s funny. 

“You’re literally Hwang Hyunjin. There’s no one who’s radar you aren’t on! And I mean no one.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes. “Then why don’t they ever go for it or flirt with me back? I keep waiting on them to indulge me, but they never do.”

“I think…” You take a deep breath in order to swallow back tears. “I think that maybe they dont know that you’re interested. You have to be bold and make the first move! I promise you no one would ever turn you down.”

Hyunjin sighs. “And you know this for sure?”

The smile that you plaster on is watery and obviously fake. However, it’s the best you can do in the dark chocolate ambience of the bakery. It echoes everything inside you at the moment—bittersweet. 

“Maybe I do.”

.        .        .

You don’t see Hyunjin again until a few days later.  Your schedule is packed with last minute rearrangements and irregular breaks as you make room for Sana’s wedding plans.  It’s hectic, stressful, and overall just a handful.

Your hands hurt from typing out various versions of wedding invitations.  Every venue in the city hates you for repeatedly calling and begging for availability on November 18th.  A few of your clients are pissed for having their appointments rescheduled, and an even smaller few are understanding.

The worst part of it all is that when Sana and her fiancé waltz into your office on a random Monday, they have the audacity to look cheerful.  Neither of them look the least bit stressed, and all the more in love, which angers you slightly.  You have to remind yourself that this is why you do this.  You have voluntarily become a stress ball for engaged couples.  You’re starting to regret that decision.

Sana blinks her pretty eyes at you sweetly, greeting you with a honey-dipped smile.  “How have things been going?”

You plaster on an equally sweet smile, composed of high fructose corn syrup instead of genuine sugar.  “It’s been going well.  Your cake appointment is scheduled for Thursday.  All that’s left is for you to pick an invitation format, your dress, and the venue.”

“That sounds great!  That’s nothing.”  The fiancé exclaims.

You grit your teeth.  “Yep, it should be smooth sailing from here.”

The couple leaves with various printed versions of wedding invitations that you paid extra to express print.  The minute the door closes behind the two, you sag into your chair.  Running your hands over your face, you let out a loud groan.  The best part about having an individual office is that no one is around to hear your mental breakdowns.

You spend a moment indulging in the secret stash of chocolates you keep in the top drawer of your desk, letting the rich bitterness melt on your tongue.  The taste is dangerous, and you remind yourself to hit the gym extra hard this week.

After a moment, your phone chimes with a message.  It’s a simple text from Hyunjin, asking you if you’re planning to visit the bakery later.  When you reply in the affirmative, he responds with a simple question.

Cheesecake or Torrone?

You smile and reply with the former.

.        .        .

The bakery is eerily silent when you arrive.  Although it’s normally quiet at this hour, you can usually hear the soft hum of Hyunjin’s music, or the sounds of dishes and pans being cleaned.  But this time, there’s nothing.

“Hyunjin?”  You call out, slightly confused at the ambience.

It’s silent for a moment, and then a voice sounds out.  “In the kitchen!”

You follow the familiar path back to the kitchen, surprised at the dimness of the lights and the lack of sound.  When you enter the kitchen, though, it makes both more and less sense at the same time.  Hyunjin has various candles littered around the countertops, illuminating the kitchen in a soft orange glow.

Hyunjin himself stands in the corner of the kitchen, changed out of his work attire.  He’s wearing a neat button up shirt, untucked over black jeans.  The look is completed with his black dress shoes and various jewelry.  At his lack of bright green crocs, you’re taken aback.

At the center of the kitchen, poised atop what is usually used as a workbench for kneading bread, is a perfect cheesecake resting on a cake stand.  The cake’s tan surface is tainted with tracks of a red reduction that has been placed gently on the center of the cheesecake.  At second glance, you determine it to be raspberry.  Your favorite.

“What is all this?”

A small smile graces Hyunjin’s face.  “Well you told me to ‘be bold and make the first move.’  I don’t know what could be a bolder move than candles and raspberry cheesecake.”

A thousand thoughts run through your mind at the revelation.  First move?  Being bold?  It’s you?  Through your jumble of thoughts and emotions, you manage out a small, “so it is raspberry?”

“I’m standing here confessing, and you’re asking about the cheesecake?”  Hyunjin laughs. “Yes, it’s raspberry.  I knew that was your favorite so…”

“So it's me?  I don’t understand.”

Hyunjin finally moves from his position in the corner, crossing the large kitchen easily.  “Well, I hoped we could talk about it over cake.”  The man motions towards the stools around the workbench.

You just nod, taking a seat on one of the stools.  You struggle to keep up with the situation, still wrapping your head around it.  Hyunjin makes his way over, a smile still poised on his face.  You bite your lip as he rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt.  You find yourself biting harder as you watch the flex of his forearms when he cuts the cake.  The piece he deposits in front of you is picturesque, something straight out of a food and wine magazine.

When Hyunjin sits across from you, you take in the way the candlelight hits him, perfectly illuminating his features.  His lips are plush and pink, blonde hair falling down onto his shoulders.  There’s something glimmering in his eyes, a conflicted wetness that borders between hopeful and disappointed.

“So?”  You start.

Hyunjin just shakes his head.  “Take a bite first.”

“Hyunjin, I know what your cheesecake tastes like.”

“I don’t care.  I’m not talking until you take a bite.”

Stubbornly, you pick up your fork and shovel a bite into your mouth.  You’re about to immediately retaliate and open your mouth again, but the pleasant assault of flavor on your taste buds leaves you immobilized.  Your eyes widen in shock, causing Hyunjin to chuckle cutely.

“It’s good, right?  I added an extra hint of cinnamon spice in order to give the crust that extra umph.”

You practically moan around your bite of food.  “Hwang Hyunjin I could marry you right--”

Hyunjin laughs again, this time appreciating the way you cut yourself off before he had to.  He shifts in his seat, taking a bite of his own cheesecake before pushing a strand of hair out of his face.  He savors his bite, chewing slowly and swallowing completely before opening his mouth again.

“I know this may be sudden,” he begins.  “And I know we’ve never been that close.  But I like you, Y/N.  I have since college.  And I don’t want to be too presumptuous, but I have a feeling that you may like me too.”

You nod slowly, trying to ignore the heat that rises to the apples of your cheeks.  “Maybe I do.”

Once again, Hyunjin laughs.  “Well I guess a ‘maybe’ is as good as I’m going to get from you.”

“No, I mean,”  you clear your throat.  “I like you, too.  Not maybe.  I do.”

Hyunjin’s smile is bright, soft around the edges as the shadows of the candle flames dance around his face.  He’s gorgeous, all rounded cheeks and bleach blonde hair, squinty eyes and the faintest of dimples.  

“I’m glad.”

You sigh.  “This whole time I wondered why we were always on the border of friendship.  We were close, but not that close.  It felt weird to be your friend but also felt weird to not be.  I guess that should have been a sign, huh?”

“I’ve always been bad at reading signals.”

“Me too.”

The smile you two share is warm and sweet, filled with the kind of rich sweetness that only comes with something fresh and purified.  It’s not the synthetic sugar that makes candy, nor the citrusy sweetness of fruit.  The sugar you share is rich, deep, with a slight tang.  It’s reminiscent of the crust of the cheesecake, a mellow combination of brown sugar and cinnamon spice.

.        .        .

Sana’s wedding is just as grand as she wanted it to be.  The venue is decked out in flashes of burgundy silk and red roses, complimenting the warm brown of Sana’s hair.  Her dress is adorned with Swarovski crystals and delicate stitching, allowing her to sparkle all throughout the ceremony.  Eventually vows are read, and the couple is officiated, and you hold Hyunjin’s hand when he sheds a few tears.

The reception is equally as flashy, various celebrity couples trying to outdo each other with their outfits and lavish gifts for the newlywed couple.  They take up all of the space in the room and on the dance floor, their fame-inflated egos making the venue feel much smaller than it actually is.

The couple cuts into the cake with cheers in the background.  Hyunjin cringes as they smash pieces of cake in each others’ faces, complaining about the waste of frosting and “immaculately made cake.”  It takes two kisses and holding his hand for 5 minutes straight to placate him.

After cheers and various upbeat songs, the DJ finally slows down the pace.  Various couples get up and slow dance together, swaying to the melody of the soft ballads.  Even though its far from the vibes of Hyunjin’s favorite rap songs, he offers a hand out, and leads you happily to the dance floor. 

The two of you find a small, unoccupied space on the dance floor, instantly falling into each other.  You wrap your arms tightly around Hyunjin’s shoulders, revelling in the feeling of his warm hands around your waist.  The two of you sway together, holding each other too close.  You can feel the steady thump of Hyunjin’s heart under your head, each beat lining up with the slow pumps of yours.

The spectacularly sweet scent that always clings to Hyunjin as a result of his time in the bakery is ever-present, and you find yourself inhaling it reverently.  You allow your eyes to close, getting lost in the song.  And if you think hard enough, you can picture it being your own wedding.

You can picture you and Hyunjin at the altar, a few years in the future.  You would hold each other’s hands tightly, fighting hard to hold back tears.  Hyunjin would of course let a few fall, and you would laugh.  And when the minister asks if you take Hwang Hyunjin to be your lawfully wedded husband, you would smile and respond:

“Maybe I do.”

[forasecondtherewedwon]

À la Carter

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Rating: T Word Count: 1572

Summary: Even when she’s helping Sam, Sharon has her own agenda.

Sharon’s fingers tap. They spread and pinch, manipulating the scale and definition of Riga’s rooftops. When she feels like she must be zeroing in, she stops, straightens from where she’s been leaning over the screen of her tablet.

She tosses back a swallow of her drink, a flinch around her eyes as the alcohol stings her cut lip. It had been a while since she’d had to fight her way out of a tight corner (or configuration of shipping containers), before Sam, Bucky, and their pet baron showed up in Madripoor. Her tongue prods the cut.

Her satellite access came through, like she knew it would, and John Walker’s no needle in a haystack. On her screen, he’ll be displayed as TRACKER 01, but his position might as well be stamped with the shield—that symbol of justice and virtue and treachery and regret and whatever else the thing stands for these days. She’s a little behind on American public perception when she only feels very loosely American herself. An expat snagged on the last unravelling thread of her former country’s flag.

Another sip, another wince, is punishment in advance. Sharon’s about to do what she does in this new life of hers: take her cut. Her deal with Sam is going to develop a deviation he doesn’t know about. It’ll be seamless, wasting very little of anyone’s time, a detour on the streets of Riga; the view lies between her forearms, resting on the glass surface of the table.

She likes Sam, likes him a lot. The patience and problem-solving in his eyes that say he’s actually listening. The way he looks without his shirt. His persistent trustworthiness when trust is something Sharon thought she no longer dealt in. No giving it out and no inviting it. People don’t just trust her here. That’s why she has hired security. But she’s already expecting Sam to follow through on his end of their deal and sort out her little being-labelled-an-enemy-of-the-state issue, so she’s committed to helping him. The instinct to is annoyingly natural.

Here’s the wrinkle in their verbal contract: the job’s personal. Sam and Bucky are aware of that, she’s certain, and she wonders if they’ve considered that she might be too. It isn’t about her freedom of travel between countries or the do-gooder urge—which Sam in particular appears to overflow with—to ensure Zemo is once again caught and held to account. It’s a Steve thing. She’s heard a lot of rumours (there’s one circulating in High Town at the moment, that Steve is on Mars, building the bones of Elon Musk’s Martian colony in exchange for a couple billion dollars and, presumably, his own self-respect), and it hurts that she can’t dispel any of them, even to herself. Sharon doesn’t know what happened to him. All she knows is that there’s a new guy slinging his arm through the straps of Steve’s old shield and that she doesn’t really feel as casual about it as she might’ve led Sam and Bucky to believe when she mentioned Walker to them. She’s angry. Because she looks at New Cap and wonders what it was all for.

She drums her fingers on the tabletop.

With a deep breath, Sharon touches the screen again. Now swiping intently, she finds TRACKER 01, AKA John Walker. She pulls her phone towards her because she should call Sam to tell him the location. And she will. What she’s going to do first is just for herself.

Hacking into Walker’s comms is surgical and effortless, not requiring payment or bartering like the satellite access, just the skills she keeps honed. Sharon enables a moderate vocal distorter and slides into the ‘secure’ channel. She’s determined to keep her anger and bitterness out of this side-mission, but with nowhere else to go, resentment climbs the back of her neck as an uncomfortable, spreading heat.

“Hey, John.”

“Who is this?” his voice snaps at the other end of the line.

“Oh, don’t you worry about that.” Sharon tilts back in her chair until she can prop the heels of her boots on the table, posture perfectly at ease as she goads him. “Do you prefer ‘John’ or ‘Captain America’?”

“Who are you? A fan?”

Well, she has to laugh at that.

“Um, yeah,” she gushes, channeling the preteen goddaughter she might’ve had if she were living a life where she could make real friends and have neighbours instead of hosting underground art auctions and sniping hostiles from an open window while two idiots from her old life sprint past on the street below. “Is this the Captain America Hotline?”

“Let me tell you, you are seconds away from being located and identified by the U.S. government,” Walker threatens. At least he’s smart enough not to hold on to his fan theory any longer.

“At ease, Cap. I’m not doing any harm.”

“What you’re doing is something incredibly foolish and you will reap the consequences.”

“It’s been a few seconds,” Sharon taunts. “Either the government’s found me and they don’t want to rudely interrupt our conversation or my capabilities exceed theirs. Which one do you think it is?”

“What do you want.”

It comes out flat and hard.

“No more warnings? You’re not going to try to brute-force your way to the conclusion of your choosing?”

“That isn’t always the best method.”

“Something tells me somebody taught you a lesson recently,” Sharon observes, crossing her ankles and rocking her feet side to side on the table. “How bad were you humbled?”

“I went up against the Dora Milaje.”

“So you really got your ass handed to you. I’m surprised you’d be so forthcoming about that. Stiff-upper-lipped soldier type.”

“I figure you could find that information if you really wanted it.”

“You’re being generous then? Saving me time?”

“I just want you to get the fuck off this line.”

“Back to business then,” she says.

She can hear Walker’s breathing change, from a heavy pant to the sound of him clearly trying to control it. Less background noise too, like maybe he just entered a building. She assumes he’s trying to be stealthy. That means he’s either sneaking up on the Flag-Smashers or fears they’re sneaking up on him. It’s almost time to quit toying with New Cap and alert Sam so he can soar in, kick a few asses, maybe save a life. While she goes back to drinking alone in High Town, knowing Madripoor is beginning to tear itself to bloody shreds with so many sharpened claws.

“What do you want?” Walker repeats.

“To tell you I wouldn’t have minded calling you ‘Captain America.’” Sharon shrugs for her own benefit. “It’s just a name, and yet… I think it’s going to bother you. Realizing that you won’t live up to it, I mean.”

“You’re pathetic.”

His breathing’s a little harsher again. He might be climbing a flight of stairs.

“John Walker, I almost feel sorry for you,” she says. “I might if you came off as less of an asshole.”

“Don’t waste your condescension on me. I don’t give a fuck what you think.”

She laughs at him.

“That’s ridiculous. What sort of man agrees to be Captain America when someone as incredible as Sam Wilson has just given up the shield? When the world doesn’t need to close their eyes to picture Steve Rogers still standing behind it? Walker, you stepped into a shadow that was still fading because you were too vain to miss your opportunity. Well now that shadow’s never going to fade,” Sharon hisses at him, her feet hitting the floor as she hunches forward, studying the orange tracker. “You think you’re standing in the sun, but you’re not. And it’s only going to get darker for you.”

“I’ll take my chances.” His voice is hushed, but the tone is arrogant.

“I’m sure you will. You’ll take them without any regard for anyone around you.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lectures. “I’m helping—”

“Of course you’ll say you’re helping people when, really, you can’t see past the larger-than-life persona you borrowed like a rental tux. It’s never going to fit, John. While you’re watching yourself, all those people are seeing the guy in the ill-fitting suit, the guy who thought he was going to pick up that shield and turn into Steve Rogers. You’ve got one thing in common with Steve: a name that would be forgettable without the actions you attach to it. Soon, you’re going to wish you really were that forgettable, but it’ll be too late. The world will be watching.”

Sharon closes the connection and throws herself back into her seat, slapping her phone to the table, almost too hard. She rubs her temple and mindlessly watches the tracker flicker back and forth; Walker must be moving around the building more rapidly without her in his ear to distract him. She could’ve done worse, gotten him discovered by the Flag-Smashers, gotten him shot. That’s further than she’s willing to go though because Sam’s given her this pesky sense of hope that her life won’t always have the blinding lustre of destruction. The high shine of a speeding car, the glint of the sun peeking past Icarus’s silhouette. It’s time to let Walker destroy himself.

And, because he must think he can get in the way of that and mitigate the fallout, it’s time to call Sam.

[alexadru]

White Knight - Pay & Play to Win (Fate Grand Order edition)

Weiss had often wondered what made Ruby waste so much of her time on her scroll and when she had asked the question one day, her leader had simply shown her.

Fate Grand Order. 

That was the title of the mobile game Ruby was sinking at least a couple of hours a week. Time which she could have spent improving her grades and becoming a better leader. The young girl was the face of team RWBY, after all, and Weiss would not settle for less than the very best.

That said, she did not have any particular complaints about her progress over the months, but she disagreed with all the time she was wasting pointlessly on a silly game. 

A fact which she voiced without any restraint and which incurred another childish (in Weiss' opinion) argument between the two girls.

Ruby: "It's not childish! It's based on the greatest heroes from Earth's history, their stories and it has many life lessons. Plus, it's fun."

Weiss simply shook her head at the absurdity of her argument. She found it hard to believe that some fictional characters and their half thought out stories could ensnare people into playing that game for hours.

Ruby: "Why don't you give it a try first before you say it's childish? I bet you'll change your mind."

Another absurdity uttered by her partner, but, against her better judgement, Weiss, decided to give the game a try. If nothing else, but to prove Ruby wrong. 

After an entire week and a lot of wear to her scroll's battery, Weiss would have an epiphany and would, begrudgingly, agree with Ruby. This game was fun.

From the intriguing story, the likes of which Weiss had never seen or read to the beautiful art of the characters, the heiress could say she was hooked. She continued to play regularly, enjoying the experience as she continued to make progress through the story.

Weiss had not reached the point where she would spend money to get certain characters like she had heard from Ruby that some players did. That was until she saw him and she literally fell in love.

After spending a substantial portion of her allowance to get him when he was in the gacha, her joy could be heard across campus as she literally screamed like a fangirl when he answered her summons.

Her object of adoration? The servant Saber, King Arthur. He was everything she dreamed about. From his kind, loyal and slightly playful attitude to his charming, soft looks which made her blush every time he'd give a smile when she would level him up.

These were all traits that she had voiced quite often to her team, which was present in the room on the day the Weiss alarm rang for the first time. Weiss talked so casually about the game these days that it showed just how much she was sucked into this world.

One Saturday, as Weiss was farming like mad for materials to make her prince perfect, Ruby said something that changed her perception on life.

Ruby: "Hey, Weiss. Don't you think that Arthur is kind of like Jaune?" The girl commented as she busied herself leveling up a well known red Archer.

The innocent remark was met with the heiress looking up from the device abruptly, ready to refute the claim and defend the knight. However, Weiss stopped short to consider her words for a few moments. Moments which turned into seconds which then turned into minutes. Her eyes widened as if she reached a revelation. 

Ruby... was right! 

Abruptly, she jumped on her feet and walked out of the room with hurried steps. The rest of team RWBY heard her knock on JNPR's door. It opened moments later.

From the other side, Jaune had answered with a bit of apprehension. It wasn't often that someone would knock so loudly on his team's dorm room, except for Nora when she'd forget her scroll. What he didn't expect to see in front of his eyes was the familiar figure of his former(?) crush which he was trying to move on from with little success.

Jaune: "Weiss? Is everything alright…" The boy didn't get to finish as her hand grabbed his wrist, earning his full attention.

Weiss: "Come with me for a bit!" 

Unable to resist, he was dragged away by the small girl. Weiss had surprised him by how strong her grip was as she led him somewhere. The poor boy was caught so off guard, he couldn't do anything.

30 minutes later, Jaune found himself in the changing room of a store. It wasn't an ordinary store, however, but one that specialised in cosplay. Outfits belonging to famous fictional characters were sold here and for some reason, he found himself ready to change into one.

Of all the places in Vale, he did not expect the girl to bring him here. Nevermind the fact that she had given him an outfit and was told to try on, something from a game Ruby played if he remembered correctly. 

It was very unusual from the normally serious Weiss he knew. Still, he begrudgingly started undressing and putting on the outfit, having a new-found appreciation for the people who enjoyed cosplaying.

Weiss waited outside the changing room for 10 minutes, her mind a jumbled mess of thoughts. All ranging from curiosity about how Jaune would look to her slightly panicking that she acted so out of character and dragged him without giving a single explanation.

Looking at her feet she considered her thoughts about the boy and found that she didn't know how to feel about him. Given what occurred in the last few months, Weiss genuinely didn't know the nature of their relationship. She never thought of him much before and only recently started noticing him.

Her head snapped back up when she heard the door open.

Jaune had exited the changing room looking awkward. His steps were hesitant as if he didn't know how to walk properly in the extravagant armor. Oddly enough, despite having more layers on him, he felt a lot more exposed as if a lot more eyes were on him. Which could very well be the case, the store was huge and packed with other customers.

In his personal opinion, when Jaune checked himself in the mirror before exiting, he found that the look suited him. The blue went well with his eyes and while the silver armor was not that special, the gold accents brought everything together, matching his hair as a bonus. 

However, he looked nervously at the girl who had dragged him here. Jaune didn't know why, but he felt that she had done this for a reason and while she didn't share that reason, he hoped that he didn't disappoint her.

Weiss was quiet. Almost unusually so, despite her normally verbose self. She had seen the boy exit the changing room, donning the clothes she had picked for him and her mind came to a halt.

Baby blue eyes danced around, drinking in the sight of Jaune cosplaying the prince of her dreams. The boy who had both annoyed her the most and had been the kindest to her.

Weiss: "Jaune, would you smile for me, please?" She requested quitely.

Jaune: "What?" He didn't have a good feeling about the situation. Not with how quiet Weiss was being, her previous scrutinising gaze only adding to his nervousness.

Weiss: "Just… just give me your best charming smile."

And her weird requests kept coming. Jaune was smart enough to not question them, so he did as she requested. He tried to smile once, but it felt shaky, so he stopped, took a deep breath and tried again, his thoughts on how the beautiful girl in front of him made him feel before.

Weiss' breath hitched in her chest as she looked at him. It was impossible how well he fit the look. Everything from the blonde hair, his tall and lean physique to his boyish face was a near exact match to the Saber Servant. The only discrepancy was the eye color, deep blue instead of aqua. No less perfect in her vision.

Her face burned.

The old saying turned out to be true. The clothes did make the man and in this case, they made Jaune into her dream.

Jaune: "Weiss?" He stopped smiling and was a bit worried that she had yet to say anything. 

His words seemed to have been a wake up call as she acted almost immediately. Abruptly, her small hands pushed Jaune back until he was inside the changing room again. The surprise gesture made him trip and fall on his butt inside the small room.

Weiss had followed him inside with no hesitation. After closing the door, she wasted no time in straddling him by sitting in his lap and giving him a deep, hot kiss, catching him completely off guard.

They broke it off after nearly a minute. The two panted as they struggled to regain their breaths, Weiss managing to do so much quicker.

Jaune: "W-weiss? Why di…?" To say he was shocked was an understatement. This went beyond anything he expected to happen when she had dragged him with her.

Weiss: "Where have you been all my life?" Her purring voice nearly made him melt from all the affection it held.

Jaune: "I-I've literally been asking you out for weeks." Did she really not notice him all those times?

Weiss: "Nevermind that. What matters now is that we're here and we can do whatever we want." To prove her point, she had wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned forward until her body was pressed completely against his, feeling everything. She pressed her forehead against his, the intense gaze in her eyes sent shivers down his spine.

Jaune: "I think I need an adult…" As freaked out as he was by her gesture, he could not deny the butterflies he felt in his stomach or how hot his cheeks felt. Weiss Schnee had kissed him and it made his heart start a marathon in his chest.

Weiss: "I'll make a King out of you." With a slow, sensual lick, she wet her lips and captured his again. This time, her fingers went through his hair as she got lost in the sensation. Weiss nearly moaned when she felt his hands on her slim waist, pulling her closer as he began reciprocating.

They continued like this until the staff found them and kicked them out for indecency. Weiss managed to somehow buy the outfit anyway, though. 

Now they simply walked around Vale with the heiress hugging his right arm to her body closely and leaning her head against it. The boy blushed all the way, but remained quiet. 

The day had only begun for them.

[leahxx129]

Truth or Cut (Dean Winchester x Reader x Sam Winchester)

Hello there! This my * very VERY * late submission to @dontshootmespence​ ‘s   Alphabet Angst for 8k Challenge. I am incredibly sorry for this delay but I had to take a break away from Tumblr and social media in general in order to focus on my mental/physical health & other issues in my private life. Now I think I’m ready to return and create content again. As for the story, I hope you like it. This is my first attempt at a love triangle. Important: does not include Wincest so it’s safe to read for anyone who’s not into that. Also, I inserted a ‘Keep reading’ line, I hope it’s visible.

Summary: The British Men of Letters try a new approach to acquire the Winchesters’ cooperation, which leads to heartbreaking revelations. 

Warnings: cursing, bloodshed, mentions of sex, character death

Word count: 2.750-ish

* Moodboard is mine, pictures used are not.

You gain consciousness to two male voices calling your name frantically.

“She’s opening her eyes, Sam! She’s alright… Look!” the hoarse baritone belonging to the elder Winchester reassures his brother a second after your eyelashes have started fluttering.

“Well, that’s the overstatement of the year, Dean… Let’s just say I’ll live.” you grumble once you fully come around. “What the hell?!”

Usually you’re more eloquent than that but at the moment it’s the best you can muster, considering that you’ve awakened in what appears to be an abandoned warehouse and all three of you are handcuffed to uncomfortable metal chairs organized in a neat triangle, facing each other. The only source of light are a few flickering candles placed on a table nearby.

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out, babe.” your long-term boyfriend Sam replies in a soothing tone.

His handsome face seems intact – minus a couple of scars he obtained in previous fights – so being ambushed is crossed off the list of possible explanations on what happened and how you got here. Maybe you were drugged? If yes… by whom? The things that go bump in the night prey upon their enemies and slash their throats open, not abduct them.

A heavy silence falls on the place, only the crackle of the candle flames can be heard.

You have no idea how much time has passed – it could’ve been an eternity as well as ten minutes – when suddenly a consecutive knocking sound fills your auditory canals.

“Are those… are those high heels?” you ask aloud incredulously.

“Louboutin’s to be exact, my dear.”

Every head snaps to the accent’s direction just in time to see an elegantly dressed slender woman step into the candle-lit area.

“But excuse my manners… talking about fashion before introducing myself? How rude of me. I’m Lady Toni Bevell on behalf of the British Men of Letters.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Dean growls “You know, here in America no means no, Lady! We’ve already told your stupid little boyband to fuck off. We’re not here to do their bidding, we’re here to save lives.”

“So I’ve heard.” She nods in understanding. “But yet, we’d still like to gather some information, one way or another.”

She walks over to the table and unfolds a neatly wrapped package, revealing a knife. Suddenly, Sam’s sarcastic chuckle fills the place.

“And you think you can get us to spill by torturing? Seriously?”

A predatory smile spreads across Toni’s face as she casually picks up the weapon of her choice.

“I was thinking about playing a game that may involve torture. It’s up to you whether it does or does not.”

“What game?” you ask suspiciously.

“I’d like to call it Truth or Cut. Maybe Truth or Stab, depending on the importance of the information you intend to withhold. The rules are the following… I ask something and if you reply, that equals truth, and nothing will happen. If you do not wish to answer, just say cut and I’ll sink my knife into your flesh.”

“You’re crazy!” Sam exhales in disbelief.

“Thank you, Sam! I’m going to take that as a compliment. And since we are already engaged in a conversation, let’s start with you.” She walks to the center of the triangle to face the younger Winchester. “I’d like you to give me the names of American hunters you consider the best.”

Sam leans a bit forward, his face is unreadable.

“Bite me!” he hisses through gritted teeth. “I’m not gonna participate in your psychotic game. You can’t make me.”

Toni flashes a dangerous smile once more.

“Are you sure about that?”

She slowly walks behind your chair and places the blade under your right collar bone.

“If you refuse to pick either truth or cut, your loved ones will pay the price for it, big guy.”

Sam’s eyes search yours for confirmation of the next step and you nod.

“You’re bluffing.” He counters Toni.

The next second you feel the metal pressed against you slash into soft skin and you can’t suppress a loud grunt of pain. Blood starts oozing from the wound and your white tank top soon begins to acquire a shade of crimson.

The brothers yell ‘No!’ in unison, then Dean delivers an impressive selection of curse words – sneaking in some that were new even to you.

Toni strolls over to Sam.

“Now I ask again. Name the best American hunters you know.”

“Cut.” Sam responds in a tone just above whisper. He soundlessly flinches when the woman draws blood by sliding the blade across his left forearm.

“Alright… Who wants to be next? Perhaps Dean? List all the places where we can find extensive knowledge on the supernatural, not counting the Man of Letters safe houses of course.”

Dean’s gaze meets Toni’s and for a second you think you can see her confidence falter because of the deadly rage and utter disdain that radiates from the hunter, but she soon regains composure.

“So? Is it truth or cut, Dean? You know what will happen if you refuse to choose.”  

“Cut!” he emphasizes the t at the end.

You’re next and you pick cut as well. Then the cycle starts all over again...

You’ve made three rounds without anyone breaking and giving Toni what she wants, which visibly annoys her.

“Let’s shake things up a bit by changing the topics, shall we?” she announces out of the blue, making all of you knit your brows.

Spinning around on her heels, she turns to Sam.

“Sam! Did you manage to decide where you want to propose to Y/N? In my personal opinion the place where you said your first I love you-s is more romantic than the place where you first met, but that’s just plain old me.”

Sam’s eyes widen in shock, reflecting your own facial expression.

“Sam? What is she talking about?” you question in a thin voice, perplexed.

A shy, boyish smile appears on his face as he looks deep into your eyes, reminding you of the very first time you’ve seen him.

“Uh, yeah. She’s right. Although I have no idea how she knows this, but I did indeed plan on proposing to you at one of those places, probably where we met… up until now. Now I have to come up with something else I guess.”

A mixture of emotions floods your heart, making you undecisive what to say first. You finally open your mouth to speak but before a sound can escape, Toni directs the next question to Dean.

“Alright, that was a truth, so no cuts. Now, Dean! I am certain she will not get offended so you can tell me honestly… Is Y/N a good kisser?”

“How would I know?” he asks back, lacking any hesitation. “I think you’re mistaking me with Sam, her boyfriend. You know, the tall guy whose proposal you’ve just ruined? Next time you play this game with someone, have your facts checked first, Suit pants.”

The confusion on Sam’s face slowly starts to fade away, but Toni presses on relentlessly.

“Oh, Dean... That was a very convincing performance! But, unfortunately for you, I did have my facts checked. And according to these facts, you and Y/N locked lips passionately just two years ago, in 2015. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

Everybody’s eyes are on you waiting for your reaction, and you can’t help but reminisce about the event in question.

You were having a hard time finding the key for the motel room you were renting - courtesy of the bottle of bourbon you’d consumed earlier. All those keys on the chain looked the same and neither of them seemed to fit into the lock, let alone open the damn door… In addition to that, the world slowly started spinning and you had to prop yourself against the doorframe to prevent an ugly fall.

“Need a hand there, Sweetheart?”

Your heart skipped a beat from the scare but soon calmness washed over you as you identified the person. You could recognize that husky voice anywhere, intoxicated or not.

“Dean Winchester!” you exclaimed, turning around to find him leaning against your car you’d parked near the doorway. “The world’s deadliest hunter and mightiest panty dropper turned hell’s cruelest demon! To what do I owe this pleasure? Considering that you’ve gone out of your way to ignore both me and Sam in the past couple of months.”

He leisurely pushed himself from the car and started walking towards you.

“I needed a breath of fresh air, that’s all. But speaking of whom… where’s Sam?”

He almost left no distance between your bodies when he finally stopped. What was he doing? If he wanted to kill you, he probably would’ve done it already…

“I don’t know. Why don’t you give him a call, huh? Ask him how he’s doing? You could make him the happiest man alive…” you replied with a bitter undertone.

A shit-eating grin formed on Dean’s handsome face.

“Uh-oh. Is there trouble in paradise?”

“Shut it, Dean! It’s really none of your business.” You said, crossing your arms and averting your gaze.

His comment hit a nerve – you both knew that – but the last thing on Earth you wanted to do was discussing your relationship crisis with him. If you still had a relationship, that is.

To much of your surprise, the next second he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him and pressed his lips against yours. It felt terribly wrong but incredibly right at the same time… It took you half a minute to gather all your willpower and push him away.

“Y/N? Is it true?” Sam’s voice brings you back to reality.

Tears start dwelling up in your eyes, providing a wordless answer. He swallows hard.

“Why?”

“It’s all my fault, okay?” Dean speaks up as you’re clearly unable to form a coherent sentence. “I kissed her, man. It happened when I was a demon… I figured if I kissed her, I’d piss you off enough to leave me alone. Besides, she was totally hammered and still pushed me away.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better, Dean?!”

“I don’t know… a little, maybe?”

Sam scoffs then all of a sudden realization hits him.

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“What?”

“Is my girlfriend a good kisser?”

Both you and Dean stare at him in shock.

“C’mon man, you can’t seriously want me to answer that…” Dean attempts to change the subject but doesn’t succeed. Sam’s stare makes it obvious he won’t let this one slide. He won’t let go until he hears the truth no matter how unpleasant it may be.

“Yes.” Dean blurts out. “She’s a good kisser. In fact, she’s one of the best kissers I’ve ever encountered in my entire life. Happy now?”

The only response is a nod.

“Oh wow…” Toni lets out an excited sigh. “Changing the topic was the best idea ever, don’t you agree? Now, let’s move on to Y/N. She’ll get the most interesting question in my repertoire.”

She slowly walks over to you, her Louboutin’s menacingly tap against the concrete every step of the way. She crouches down, tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and asks the most ruthless question in the sweetest voice.

“Which one of the Winchester brothers is better in bed?”

The tears you’ve been holding back for quite some time now break free and roll down your cheeks swiftly.

“I mean, it’s not entirely true what Dean said, now is it? You did push him away but then you pulled him back...”

Complete silence ensues and you swear you can hear three hearts break if you listen closely.

You were standing there more confused than ever. What the hell was Dean doing?! Was this a long time coming or was he playing some sort of a game? Either way… If you were sober, you most certainly would’ve punched him in the mouth. But due to your condition – or at least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself ever since – you pulled him back and kissed him there instead. The part of how you got inside the room was a blur, but soon enough you found yourself tangled up with him in the sheets. Torn clothes peppered the floor, a smell of bourbon lingered in the air and Dean treated you as if you were the single, most important person in the entire universe. You truly thought you’d never been happier – then came the morning and shattered everything to a thousand pieces.

“You know, to encourage picking truth regarding this question, I am going to tell you something you yourself may not even be aware of, Y/N.” Toni breaks the silence. “There is something else that’s not true in what Dean said. He did not spend that night with you just to piss Sam off… He’s been attracted to you ever since you’ve met and being a demon allowed him to shamelessly do something about it.”

You whisper ‘Cut’ as a reply and Toni’s face hardens.

“Oh, honey… withholding this information is worth a stab.”

Before you can comprehend her words, she swings the knife and it ends up in your right thigh. You don’t think you’ve ever seen this much blood come from a stab wound… Both Winchester men yell in protest, but their voices become distant as you slowly slip into unconsciousness.

Mary and Castiel tracked down your location and arrived just in time. You almost bled to death, but the angel managed to heal the wound. For a while you wished he didn’t.

Three weeks later you’re sitting in your car at an abandoned gas station. About fifteen minutes after your arrival, a black SUV parks near you. You limp to the vehicle and tear its door open, barely containing your fury.

“What the fuck was that, Toni?!” you question while getting in and pointing a gun at her.

She glances at the weapon then looks you in the eye.

“Is that necessary?”

You cock the gun in response.

“Alright. So, as you know, the management decided that you delivering information to us about the Winchesters is not enough anymore.”

“Yes, that’s why you’ve contacted them directly, I know.”

“Correct. But since they refused to cooperate, the management came up with a plan of disrupting their unity. This way it’s just a matter of time and one of them will be knocking on our door. I suspect it will be Sam.”

A bitter laugh escapes you lips.

“So that’s what this was? A disruption of unity? Really?! And why didn’t I know of this, huh?”

“We needed your reactions to be genuine.”

“God, you’re a bunch of psychopaths… You know what, I’m not gonna do this anymore. I quit.”

She lets out a loud scoff.

“Please… what are you going to tell them? Furthermore, how do you think they will react when they learn that the love of their lives is a snitch?”

You let your gun down.

“I’ll make sure they know why I became a snitch... I’ll make sure they know how I made a crossroad’s deal years ago to save them both. I’ll make sure they know how you offered to delay the hellhounds in exchange for some information every now and then. I have no idea how they’ll react, but maybe someday they’ll understand and find it in their hearts to forgive me.”

Toni stares daggers at you.

“I suggest you think this through carefully, Y/N, as we still hold your deal. One bad move and the hellhounds will come and get you. No more delaying.”

You flash her the biggest smile you can summon.

“Well, it’s been a while since the last time I played with puppies from the pit… I think I’m ready.”

Not waiting for her reaction, you get out of the car and start limping back to yours. By the time you get in, Toni is gone.

You’re all alone.

Well, not entirely alone to be fair.

The grumbling hellhounds in your backseat keep you company.

You take your phone out of your pocket avoiding any sudden movements and type a quick message to the Winchesters:

‘My nightstand, second drawer.’

Toni thought she could prevent you from exposing the truth by taking action quickly, but she wasn’t paying attention. You never said you were gonna tell them everything. You said you would make sure they know. And the detailed farewell letters you left for them in your drawer will serve the purpose well.

[olliedollie1204]

everything fits (3/8)- the next day

Single father Patton is utterly devoted to his son Virgil. Recently divorced Logan is utterly devoted to his twin sons Remus and Roman. The pieces come together.

Pairings: Romantic Logicality

Word Count: 4,522

Previous Chapters: 1 2 

woohoo chapter 3! and the last of my ‘mostly pre-written, just needs some final touches’ chapters for this fic lol. this chapter also has the first taglist for this series! if you want to be added to/remove from the taglist, lmk!

(Read it on AO3!)

“And then, Rem, you’ll never believe it— he waved at Logan!” Patton exclaimed, leaning against the counter he was only halfway finished with wiping down.

If anybody else had been his manager, Patton imagined that he would’ve gotten written up for how little work he had done today.

Lucky for him, as the sole founder and proprietor of the Sandman Cafe, Remy Dormer didn’t give a fuck if his best friend since childhood took a break from peddling overpriced coffee to brag about his son.

“No shit?” Remy asked, his eyebrows raised so high they disappeared behind his carefully styled bangs. “Didn’t know Lil’ Hart had it in him.”

Patton grinned, nodding enthusiastically. “I mean it, I’d be late to work every single day if it meant I got to see him smile like that.”

“How late were you?”

Patton pursed his lips. “About an hour,” he admitted. “My supervisor wasn’t too happy, but we were short staffed, so she didn’t write me up or anything.”

Remy sighed. “I can’t wait until you get out of that shithole.”

“It’s really not so bad,” Patton defended, although he didn’t really know why he was bothering. “I mean, I pick up some boxes, I put ‘em in a truck. Rinse and repeat!”

Remy still looked unhappy. “At least when you bartend, you get tips. All you get there is back pain and calluses.” As he spoke, he suddenly jumped up from the stool he was perched on, pushing it over to Patton. “Sit down, Pops.”

Patton snorted. “You’re six months older than me,” he protested, but he did take advantage of getting off his feet for a bit.

“Besides, I like doing hands-on work like that,” Patton continued, speaking in truth. “It makes me feel good about myself. Like I’m doing everything I can to provide for my family.”

Remy snorted. “You sound like such a dad.”

“Well, I am one, aren’t I?” Patton replied. Remy raised his hands in defeat.

“No complaints from me. Virgil’s the best kid I know.”

“And how many kids do you know, exactly?”

Remy waved his hand dismissively. “Unimportant. Point is, you bust your ass for your kid, and I love that about you.”

Patton couldn’t help the ‘aw’ that escaped from his lips. “I love you too, Rem!”

Remy smirked back. “Course ya do, babes,” he replied as he moved to count the money in the register. “I’m a delight.”

Patton laughed, settling back comfortably, letting the familiar banter between the old friends fall away into a companionable silence. 

“It really was a wonderful morning,” he murmured.

“And it’s all thanks to that tall, dark stranger, huh?” Remy teased.

Patton was grateful that Remy’s back was to him, so he couldn’t see the shit-eating grin his friend was definitely giving him right now. “Remy—” 

“I mean, Patty, be real: he was cute, right?”

“Remy!” Patton laughed, feeling himself getting flustered. “It— he— it wasn’t—”

Remy threw his head back in laughter, shoulders shaking.

“Calm down, Papa Bear, don’t have a heart attack.”

Patton didn’t answer, just crossed his arms and tried to not embarrass himself further.

“Besides, if he made Virgil smile, I don’t give a shit what he looked like. He’s a hero in my book,” Remy continued with a tone of finality.

Patton shook his head in wonder, thinking back to the little wave Logan gave him right before Virgil ushered them both out of the office. “I swear, I’ve never seen Virgil so happy to talk to a stranger before.”

He paused.

“Not that I encourage my child to talk to strangers!” he stated a little louder, eyes darting around to reassure any eavesdroppers that there was no need to call Child Protective Services.

“Honey, we’re so dead right now, I’m about to call a mortician to see what’s up,” Remy said flippantly, gesturing to the empty tables and chairs in front of him. “Say whatever the hell you want.”

He wasn’t wrong: at the moment there were only a handful of regulars scattered throughout the trendy cafe, but Patton knew enough about working service industry jobs to know not to be naive. The rhythm of customers ebbed and flowed, and at any moment there could be a rush of business that would keep Patton and Remy busy for hours.

Patton leaned backwards slightly to check on his son. Virgil was sitting in the back room with a pair of noise-cancelling headphones over his head, his sketch pads and crayons scattered on the table before him. Patton watched as he stuck his tongue out, carefully tracing seemingly random shapes onto the paper with a blue crayon before switching to fill them in with a purple one.

Satisfied, Patton turned back to the conversation.

“And you know, when we finally did make it to his class, he wasn’t even worried about being late anymore,” Patton continued. “I mean, he still didn’t say anything to the other kids, just went straight over to Kai, but he was still smiling by the time I had finished explaining everything to Dr. Picani, so…” 

Patton didn’t miss the way Remy paused in counting the money in the register for just a moment, before returning to the task with a forced air.

“Oh, how is the Doc doing?” he asked casually, not making eye contact with his best friend.

“Pretty good, I think,” Patton replied. “We did talk about his recent trip to Hawaii, I think he said it was his honeymoon—”

Patton jumped as Remy dropped the handful of quarters he had been rolling.

“What?” he asked, looking at Patton with such a look of panic that he couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

Remy flushed. “Oh, you— you motherfucker—”

He continued to hurl baseless insults at Patton as the two squatted down to pick up the coins.

“Gotta say, Rem,” Patton teased, relishing in the blush that covered his typically unshakeable friend’s face, “You’ve seemed very invested in the goings on of Dr. Picani lately.”

He shifted backwards to sit criss-cross applesauce on the floor behind the counter, resting his hand on his chin and smirking.

“Is there anything you wanna share with the class?”

Remy scoffed, still picking up the coins one by one.

“I’m just… curious about the guy, okay?” he replied defensively. “I mean, Lord knows we never had a teacher who seemed to give a shit about his students, and this guy… does.”

He faltered for a moment, before blustering on, “Whatever. I don’t even know him. I don’t care what he does.”

Remy stood up, dusting off his pants as he continued sorting the money. Patton looked up at him with an expression of barely-contained amusement.

“... So have you picked out the outfit you’re gonna wear when we see him on Monday?” 

Remy scoffed again. “Of course, I’m not an animal.”

Patton heard the bell above the front door ring, and saw Remy’s eyes shift from the register to the door.

“Can you take this one?” he asked, looking down at Patton. “I gotta run to the back for some change.”

He turned and walked away before Patton could answer, leaving him to scramble above the counter just as the customer arrived.

“Welcome to the Sandman, what can I get for ya?” Patton asked chipperly, slipping into his customer service voice with a practiced ease as he slid on a pair of rubber gloves.

He looked up just in time to see the customer’s eyes widen in shock at his sudden appearance.

“Wow, how long have you been hiding back there?” he asked, eyeing Patton up and down.

Patton gave a polite laugh. “Just waiting for you to walk in!”

… Okay. That wasn’t great. Patton had meant ‘you’ in a general way, as in ‘a customer that Patton was getting paid to talk to’ kind of way, but from the way the man’s smile spread, Patton couldn’t help but feel there had been a teensy tiny misunderstanding.

“Well, I hope I’m worth the wait,” he replied smoothly. Patton gave him a tightlipped smile.

“What can I get you?”

Thank gosh, the man didn’t push it, ordering a large iced chai latte to go. Patton busied himself with making the drink, his hands shaking just a little bit. He forced them to stop, taking a deep breath before turning around with a smile plastered on his face.

“That’ll be five bucks even,” he stated, sliding the cup across the counter as the man opened his wallet.

He handed Patton a five, then made a show of placing another five in the tip jar.

“Tip, tip, hooray!” Patton cheered lightly. Remy told him that chant was the dorkiest thing he’d ever heard, and under no circumstances was Patton allowed to utter that phrase within the walls of his chic coffee shop. Patton generally ignored him on that one.

He looked away to place the money in the register, but when his gaze rose he saw the man still standing there, sipping the drink while making… slightly uncomfortable eye contact with Patton.

He paused. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

The man hummed. “A couple things,” he said, loudly swirling the ice in his drink. “Your name, maybe. And your phone number.”

It didn’t sound like a request. Patton felt himself grimace before he smoothed his expression into something more customer friendly.

“I’d prefer not to give out my personal information to a stranger,” he replied, willing his voice to come out clearly despite the tremble he felt in his throat.

The man shrugged. “If we get to know each other, we won’t be strangers.”

He leaned over the counter, dripping tea onto the surface that Patton had just wiped down.

“So what’s a pretty guy like you doing in a place like this?”

And that set off all sorts of alarm bells in Patton’s head. He couldn’t stop the way his face contorted at the man’s tone, his words, his body language, the way he called him ‘pretty’, like he was some kind of— 

Patton shut that thought down immediately.

“Working, actually,” he snapped instead, watching the man’s smile slide off of his face.

“And if you’ll excuse me,” he continued, voice raised a little bit in an attempt to get Remy’s attention, “I need you to get off the counter.”

The man sneered, opening his mouth again, and Patton tensed— 

“He’s right,” Remy announced, coming out of nowhere to lean over the counter and look the man dead in the face. “We sell drinks, not dates. Maybe go get a personality and you won’t have to drop a fiver just to get someone to talk to you.”

The man glowered back in a weak attempt at intimidation, but the glare Remy was leveling him with was not leaving any room for discussion. He scoffed, standing upright and shooting Patton a dirty look before walking away, slamming the door on his way out and causing every patron in the place to jump.

Remy swiped the dishrag from Patton’s apron pocket, wiping away the drips of tea like they personally offended him.

“Fuckin’... I hate assholes like that,” he muttered, not looking at Patton. Patton watched him clench and unclench his jaw for a moment.

“Rem,” Patton said softly, “I’m okay.” He placed his hand on the other man’s shoulder, who leaned into the touch subconsciously.

“Daddy? Remy?”

The two turned to the small voice coming from the back room. Virgil’s head was just barely visible peeking out from behind the door frame, his hood pulled so far over his head he had to lean backwards to see the two men from underneath it.

Patton’s face broke into a genuine smile at the cute sight before he even realized it. “Yeah, kiddo?”

“Um, um, I, um—” Virgil started, twisting his body a little as he stared nervously out into the cafe. He fell silent, gnawing on his lower lip, and looked at Patton with worried eyes.

“Go help your stormcloud, Daddy,” Remy said with his usual flippancy, reaching a hand to Patton’s on his shoulder and squeezing it lightly. “I’ll man the counter.”

Patton squeezed his shoulder in return, and quickly moved to the back room. Upon confirming that Patton was coming to join him, Virgil took a few shuffling steps forward and held his arms out to be picked up.

“Upsy daisy!” Patton said as he reached his son, hoisting Virgil onto his hip as he took them both into the break room. He moved to put Virgil down on the small couch they kept in the back for emergency naps, but Virgil gripped Patton’s shirtsleeves tight and wordlessly shook his head.

“Oh, you want snuggles, kiddo?” Patton asked. Virgil hesitated for a few moments before nodding, burying his head into the crook of Patton’s neck.

“Alrighty then,” Patton said, gingerly sitting on the couch without disrupting his son’s position against his chest. One hand rubbed Virgil’s back slowly yet firmly, while the other pulled down Virgil’s hood to toy with his hair.

“Vibe check, kiddo?”

He felt Virgil breath deeply against his shoulder.

“I, um, I, um— he, he was mean,” Virgil said, his voice muffled through the fabric.

Patton froze, then deflated a little. “You saw me talking to that man, huh, stormcloud?”

Virgil nodded. “He was not nice,” he emphasized. Patton smiled a little.

“I don’t know what kind of person he is, but you’re right. The way he was acting just now was not very nice.”

Patton figured the guy was just as much of a douche in the rest of his life as he was a few minutes ago, but it was important for Virgil to know the difference between ‘doing something bad’ and ‘being a bad person’.

“Well, don’t worry,” he continued, making his voice sound confident. “Remy told him to run away and never, ever come back.”

Virgil pulled back to look up at Patton. “Not even for a hundred years?”

Patton grinned. “Not even for a hundred, hundred years.”

Virgil gasped, eyes widening as he tried to picture a number that big.

“Not even, not even for a hundred, hundred, hundred years?” he asked, jaw dropped.

“Not even for a hundred, hundred, hundred, hundred—” Patton leaned his face closer to Virgil’s, pressing their foreheads together as he finished, “—hundred years!”

The two burst into giggles, Virgil wiggling at the feeling of Patton leaning his head on his. “Daddy!”

Patton laughed, pulling his head back and letting Virgil lean back against his chest.

“Two minutes or five?”

Virgil chewed on his lip as he thought. “Five, please, thank you.”

Patton nodded. “Five minute snuggles, it is.”

As he leaned back into the couch, Patton thought back to the rude customer.

He was attractive, Patton supposed, but his personality was an obvious deal breaker. And if Virgil could tell he was mean without even talking to him? Oh, there was no question in Patton’s mind that he did the right thing by turning him down.

Still, he sighed, curling his arms tighter around his son.

He wasn’t… opposed to the idea of dating. Despite the struggles of his day-to-day life, he was generally happy. He had so much to be happy about! Virgil, and Remy, and his jobs, and the fact that he had come so much farther than he’d ever thought he could. His life wasn’t perfect, but he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

He just wished he had someone to share that life with. Romantically.

Over the sound of his troubled thoughts, he heard Virgil inhale deeply, shoving his head into his chest and rubbing his little cheek against the fabric of his shirt. Patton grinned, reaching up to brush some of Virgil’s hair back behind his ear.

“Love you, kiddo,” he murmured. Virgil made a muffled sound into his chest that Patton knew was his son returning the sentiment.

He sighed a little, rubbing Virgil’s back in soothing circles. Virgil was his number one, his little stormcloud. As long as he knew Virgil was happy, healthy, and safe, that’s all Patton needed to worry about. Save the dating for later. Hopefully.

~

“... And out of nowhere, he looked me right in the face and said, ‘Larry, I just can’t with you right now!’”

The jovial man could barely get the words out before breaking into loud laughter. “Logan, when I tell you I almost peed my pants—”

“I’ll have another talk with Remus about referring to his teachers by their last names only,” Logan stated, skimming the pamphlet they had gotten at the meeting.

“Only because I don’t want everyone to start doing it,” Larry replied with what seemed like genuine regret. “Don’t punish the kid for being a comedic genius.”

A banging at the door of the classroom made the two men jump.

“Sorry!” called Dot, entering with two bags of takeout in her arms. “The darn bags are slipping, so unless you guys want to eat your dinner off the floor—”

Larry was already rushing to help his wife. Emile followed her into the classroom, carrying a bottle of Coke and a pack of red solo cups.

“We’re borrowing these from the teacher’s lounge,” he chirped, placing them on the table where Dot and Larry deposited the food.

Larry raised an eyebrow. “Wow, a whole two liter? Emile, you criminal!”

Emile shrugged, smiling innocently as he poured each of them a cup. “What? I didn’t steal anything; they were in the teacher’s lounge, and we’re teachers, so technically—” 

“Technically, we’re trespassing,” Logan interjected as he began sorting through and passing out the food. “Even though Dot has the key to her classroom, the school itself is private property, and therefore should we be caught here after hours by law enforcement, there would most likely be legal repercussions—”

“Fuck cops!” Larry cut Logan off, raising his solo cup in the air with a defiant attitude.

“Fuck cops!” Dot and Emile echoed, the three of them tapping their cups of wine together before downing them like they were doing tequila shots at a college party.

Logan smiled. “I'm glad we're all teaching our children the important lessons.”

“Speaking of teaching children…” Emile said as the four began to dig into their food with gusto, “who’s ready for the meet and greet on Monday?”

His chipper tone of voice was met with three groans, causing his jaw to drop. “Oh, come on, it’s not that bad!”

“I just don’t get why they had to schedule the seminar and the meet and greet on the same darn week!” Dot replied. Larry nodded in agreement.

“And like, what do they even want us to say? It’s only been a couple weeks— I’ve barely gotten to know some of my students!”

“It’s merely the school encouraging us to form more personal connections with the students’ families, in order to ensure more funding from their respective donations,” Logan replied without thinking, much more focused on his burger than the conversation.

“No kidding,” Emile said, scowling at his burrito like it personally offended him. “I just wish we could really get to know our students, and their families, too.”

Visions of a man in a blue polo shirt flashed through Logan’s mind.

“Itinerary check for Monday,” he announced suddenly, flipping open his notebook and turning to the proper page despite his friends’ groans. “The doors to the auditorium open at five. At six, the principal gives the welcome speech and PTA information about the upcoming year, and given how they tend to ramble—”

“More like they just love the sound of their own voice,” Dot muttered.

“We should be ready to begin speed meetings by seven,” Logan finished. “Dot, you’ll have about eight minutes to talk to the guardians of each student. Larry, five, and Emile, unfortunately it looks like you’re down to three and a half minutes per student.”

He pulled out the spreadsheet he had made the night before, sliding it across the table with the math he’d done to get those calculations.

Larry snorted. “Wow, someone had a lot of free time on their hands.”

Logan felt his chest tighten just slightly, but he pushed past it to finish, “If this all goes according to plan, we should be packing up our tables by eight at the latest. Then Emile will be home in time to feed his cats, Dot and Larry will be home in time for The Bachelor, and—”

“And you’ll be home with plenty of time to spare before the good night call,” Emile finished. He smiled softly and reached over to pat Logan’s hand in appreciation. “I’ll help you pack your table when we inevitably aren’t out of there by eight.”

Logan bristled. “Well, that won’t be necessary, since we will be out of there by eight. My timeline clearly shows—”

“Has your timeline factored the amount of chatty PTA parents, shy or stubborn students, and overall incompetence of our administration?” Larry asked blithely, grinning when he made Dot snort behind her solo cup.

Logan’s mouth opened and shut for a moment before he looked back at his spreadsheet.

“It’s not my fault I prioritize punctuality,” he grumbled slightly. Emile laughed, reaching over again to jostle Logan’s arm, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling along.

Dot pulled the spreadsheet closer, peering at it over her glasses. “Wow, you really put a lot of thought into this, L. You think we can really get the whole gym set up in less than twenty minutes?

Logan shrugged. “We’re a highly competent bunch. Not to mention the PTA volunteers will be there to assist.”

“You know, it’s really nice to know there are people who would come in on their day off to put out hundreds of folding chairs before sitting through an hour long assembly,” Larry said. Dot nodded, chewing vigorously and pointing at Larry.

“And the decorations!” she added after swallowing. “I mean, gosh, the streamers, the banners, the snack table—”

At the mention of the snack table, Emile made an appreciative noise. “Oh my goodness, do you remember that babka someone brought in for the last assembly? With the cinnamon?”

Both Larry and Dot nodded enthusiastically. Logan didn’t remember it; he didn’t usually go for the complimentary food brought in by the parent volunteers. He shrugged, eyes back on his food as the others continued to talk.

“Gosh, that was good,” Emile continued. “I want that recipe so bad! Do we remember who brought it in?”

“Hm, not sure. Dee, wasn’t it a kid from your class? That’s why we got first dibs on it.”

“Oh, yeah… was it Virgil?”

Logan froze.

“Yes!” Emile said, snapping and nodding. “Yes, it was Virgil’s daddy— oh gosh, what’s his name…” 

“Patton?” The word slipped out before Logan had even fully processed what he was saying.

The other three looked at him.

“Yes, that’s it,” Dot replied in surprise. “Patton Hart. How did you know that?”

“We met yesterday morning,” Logan replied, eyes on his food again. “I gave him access to the building, and we had a conversation. He was exceedingly pleasant—” 

“Oh!” Emile cut off Logan with a gasp as he whirled on Dot. “Oh, Dot, I can’t believe I forgot— Virgil really came out of his shell yesterday!”

Dot perked up, sitting forward; Logan assumed she must have been Virgil’s teacher the year before. “Really?”

He nodded quickly. “Oh my God, Dot, you should’ve seen it. I mean, Virgil was glowing when he came in!” Emile waved his hands wildly, his excitement for his student shining out of him. “And you’ll never believe this— we were making things out of clay at art time, and when I asked if anyone wanted to talk about their work, he raised his hand!”

Dot gasped, bringing her hand to her mouth. “Are you kidding me?” She turned to her husband, batting at his chest. “Larry!”

“Ow, ow, ow, I heard! I heard!” he responded, grabbing for his wife’s hands to stop her from attacking him out of joy.

Emile sat back in his chair. “And Patton, I guess they’d been running late that morning, but he told me Virgil had… gotten a compliment on his hoodie…”

His eyes widened slightly as he shifted to look at Logan; Dot and Larry followed his gaze.

“Wait,” Emile said, voice full of surprise but no less joy, “was that you?”

Logan felt a strange shyness; he shrugged, replying, “I told him I liked his hoodie, yes. I didn’t realize it would have such an impact.”

“How is that even possible?” Dot added. “I mean, he’s the sweetest little thing, but I don’t think he said five words the entire time he was in my class. All he wanted to do was sit at his table all day and draw," she finished, pointing her thumb over her shoulder to the wall of art from her current and past students.

He followed Dot’s gesture to one picture in particular: two stick figures, one short and one tall, holding hands. It was surprisingly well drawn for a kindergarten art project, and although the handwriting was not as clear, he could tell that the large block letters across the page read ‘I Love You Daddy— Love, Virgil'

"Aw," Logan said, feeling himself soften at the evident care Virgil had put into the card. However, another look at the wall the drawing was stuck on revealed a significant difference in Virgil’s card: where his was clearly for his father, every single other card on the wall specifically included the words ‘Happy Mothers’ Day’.

Dot seemed to follow his train of thought just as quickly as he had it, and when he turned to her with a questioning glance she gave him a somewhat sad smile. 

“Virgil’s mother is… no longer in the picture,” Dot finished slowly. “I don’t know all the details—” 

“That’s quite alright,” Logan interjected quickly. The memory of his brief interaction with the Harts was still fresh in his mind, and now he was faced with the prospect of seeing them, seeing Patton, again. The thought filled him with— something. Something good. So he would prefer to not learn the more private details of Patton’s life through second-hand sources.

… Well. There was… one specific detail Logan was, admittedly, curious to know.

“Is there another adult figure in Virgil’s life?” he asked casually. “Patton’s girlfriend, maybe, or— or boyfriend…”

A beat, and then the other three broke into laughter.

“No, boyfriend is definitely right,” Dot eventually answered, giving Logan a knowing smile.

Logan flushed. “Ah, yes. I had… suspected, as much.”

Emile giggled. “I forgot your gaydar is permanently broken, Logan.”

“I’ve only ever had one partner before!” Logan defended, his face growing hotter.

“Same with me and Dot, but our bifi works just fine,” Larry replied smugly. Dot held out her hand and the two high fived without looking at each other.

Logan sighed, collecting his trash from his food and pushing back his chair. “You’re all bullies.”

~

Taglist:

@patton-cake, @irritating-lady-knight, @i-cant-find-a-good-username

[fandom-collective-writers]

The Woes of Winning (Gavin x MC)

Fandom: Mr. Love: Queen’s Choice

Pairing: Gavin x MC

Word Count: 1,521

Warning: NSFW Smut

Requested by: Anonymous

Written by: @voltage-vixen​

“Boss, everything turned out great!” Willow praised, filling up the coolers with another round of drinks.

“Thanks to everyone pitching in,” MC responded, before sending the younger woman on her way to assist Anna.

The small production company was celebrating the success of their most recent commercial and were partaking in festivities at one of the nearby beaches. Invitations had been extended to friends and family of the staff, and everyone was immersed in the lively atmosphere of the jovial gathering. MC was helping serve the guests their food, and Gavin being the kind soul he was offered to man the grill.

“Please don’t hesitate to inform me if you need anything else,” MC reminded the crowd, as she cleared away the tables.

Pausing to wipe away the sweat trickling from her brow, MC stole a glance to admire the way the sweltering heat left Gavin illuminating in perspiration. The fabric of his damp shirt clung to his form, accentuating the cuts of his muscular upper body. Gavin noticed her staring and granted her a small wave while giving the grill a final wipe down. He placed the tongs down, and casually acknowledged MC’s coworkers as he made his way over to join MC.

“Hi,” MC greeted Gavin, blushing as he threw his arm around her shoulder.

“Hi yourself,” Gavin responded, tucking the producer’s slicked bangs behind her ear. “Man, it’s pretty hot out here today.”

“It is hot out here!” Minor suddenly interjected, stumbling over to the couple. “I propose we finally put those water balloons to good use and have ourselves a good old-fashioned smack down!”

Perhaps it was a combination of the scorching humidity and the strength of the alcohol consumed, but Minor reiterated his desire by holding up the large bucket stocked with the loaded balloons and breaking into an obnoxious fit of giggles. Sighing in dejection, MC massaged her temples preparing to lecture her former classmate.  

“Minor, those water balloons are for the chil-GAVIN!”

Taking advantage of MC’s occupied state of mind, Gavin had snatched one of the balloons and purposely dropped it down onto her foot without any warning. Soon the noise from the commotion drew others in, and joyful laughs could be heard around the beach’s vicinity. MC reached for one of the balloons to counterattack against Gavin, but her efforts fell in vain when he took off running.

“You’re not getting away this time, Gavin!”

MC launched a water balloon into the air, her pupils widened in a hopeful anticipation that for once she would finally gain the upper hand on the adept police captain. Her moment of joy was short lived however when Gavin effortlessly dodged the attack at the last second.

“Nice one, bro! You’re going to have to do better than that if you even think you have a shot of hitting Gavin, MC!” Minor cheered, before Kiki pelted a balloon of her own that struck him square in the face.

“Admit defeat, and I promise to not embarrass you anymore in front of the group,” Gavin warned, his lips curling up into a playful smile, ignoring the groaning Minor rolling around on the sand.

“Fine, you win,” MC pouted. At least that’s what she wanted Gavin to believe, as she leisurely shuffled over to her boyfriend with a water balloon hidden behind her back. “Truce?”

Attempting to distract Gavin by sticking her pinky out, MC yelped when he swiftly grasped onto her wrist.

“Pretty sly of you to try and pull a fast one on me,” Gavin confronted, the slits of his eyes narrowing. “As an officer of the law, I have an obligation to punish you.”

SPLASH

The balloon that MC had been holding in her hand fell out of her hand and to the ground, standing in shock as she fell victim to Gavin’s own water balloon invasion he inflicted upon his unsuspecting partner. Drenched from the water, MC’s clothing hugged the curves of her chest. Glancing down, MC gasped and covered herself when she realized the outline of her bra was visible under the anew translucent blouse.

“Don’t move.”

Paralyzed by Gavin’s authoritative command, MC adhered his order and obliged as he hoisted her up into his arms. Cradling her protectively against his chest, Gavin stormed down the beach into the direction of the changing stalls. The chill of the onset evening breeze brushed against her misty skin snapped her mind back into reality where she glimpsed around the beach at the party still ongoing.

“Gavin, please wait! I need to make sure that-.”

“No, you don’t.”

MC’s head snapped in the direction of the voice that interrupted her, and discovered Anna was standing nearby smirking meaningfully. Anna’s eyebrows creased and her arms were crossed, while Willow did her best to stifle giggles.

“We can handle everything from here, MC,” Anna called out in assurance. “Take good care of our girl, Gavin!”

Gavin’s cheeks flushed with a tint of pink, but nonetheless persisted until they arrived at the changing unit. Surveying the area to ensure they were alone, Gavin threw back the curtain of the nearest changing stall, and quickly forced his way inside with MC.

“Gavin, what the-….”

MC’s breath was instantly taken away as Gavin’s lips passionately claimed her own. His one hand fumbled around with the buttons on the front of her soaked blouse, while the other entangled in the fine layers of her curly hair. Her knees buckled against Gavin when his teeth nibbled down the side of her neck, and a sensuous purr escaped when he finally ripped the shirt from her body.

“I’m sorry I can’t help myself. I wanted to win, but the thought of others witnessing you in this state was too much for me to bear,” Gavin huffed, his fingers reaching down into MC’s skirt to caress her bud  before slipping a finger past her velvety folds into her core. “Looks like your shirt isn’t the only thing that’s wet today.”

“Gavin, don’t stop,” MC whimpered, bucking her hips downwards to better ride his finger. “No more teasing. You won the showdown fair and square, meaning it’s time for you claim your prize already!”

Gavin didn’t need to be told twice to help MC shimmy out of the remainder of her clothing. The garments slid to the floor and pooled around her ankles. Her tongue ran along the curve of her lips in a blissful admiration of Gavin stroking the length of his member, before pushing her back up against the wall of the stall they were in.

“Wrap your arms around my neck,” the officer ordered, and grunted when she willingly obliged, giving his hair on the back of his head a flirtatious tug for good measure.

“Your body is about to pay for that,” Gavin murmured in retortion, flashing her a devious warning smile.

He slipped his arm under MC’s thigh to support her, pressed his erection deep into her opening, and relished in the beautiful sounds of her gratifying hissing when her walls spanned to accommodate him. Gavin slapped the mound of her ass, and then tightened his grip around her waist, bracing to intensify the rhyme of his thrusting.

“So wet and tight for me. God, how good you feel should be illegal.”

Gavin slammed his hips eliciting a carnal cry from MC as she feverishly clawed his back, grinding against him out of a desperation to relieve the pressure in her lower belly. Her eyes pleaded with Gavin, but she whimpered when his thumb instead pressed against the bend of her lips.

“Shh! Keep your voice down. I would hate to have to issue you a noise complaint, miss naughty,” he instructed. “And I don’t want anyone else hearing these adorable sounds you’re making for me.”

“Gavin,” she moaned as he leaned over to place soft kisses on her breasts, sucking hard when his tongue found her nipple.

“Come for me now, MC.”

MC squirmed when his fingers rubbed against her swollen clit and triumphantly arched her head back when her walls began to quiver. Gavin’s hand was madly fondling her nub, giving MC the final push to achieve her rewarding sensation.

“Gavin,” she panted, eyes glazed over and body pulsating waves of ecstasy of their secret tryst on the beach. “I-I love you.”

Still fully encompassed within MC, Gavin lovingly nuzzled his forehead against her own.

“I love you too,” Gavin whispered.

MC’s long eyelashes batted serene butterfly kisses down Gavin’s face, and she brushed her nose against his. Gavin leaned in for a kiss that shortly intensified into a lavish make out session. The couple groaned in unison when Gavin’s erection expanded and grew harder inside of MC. Both exchanged a knowing glance and braced themselves for what was about to become a wild second round of lovemaking.

“Remind me to thank Minor later,” Gavin chuckled, before rousing his hips to shift upwards again.

Falling back into sync with their previous rhythm, Gavin and MC tuned out the rest of the busy world and spent the remainder of the hot summer evening heating things up even further.

[a3yumeblog]

BANRI’S BIRTHDAY

SEPTEMBER 9, XX

*2 days before his birthday*

Mornings like this on any other day in the Mankai dorms, realizing it’s already Autumn as you looked at the date on your phone, sipping your sweet coffee. It’s 6am in the morning and you’re the only one who is awake. You know that Banri would come down in any minute, so you made his coffee the way he usually prefers it, on the bitter side.

You scan through the monthly magazine to look for inspiration on what’s trending this season. As you saw the animal print outfits that looked gorgeous on the models, you paused for a second and heard Banri greeting you a good morning and is about to snuggle you from behind, but you blocked it by raising the magazine up to his face, serving it as your shield as you look at him above you and that made him stop. That made him growl, but you completely ignored it and cut him off saying, “Take me to where you thrift later! I want to try this outfit! Also, I made you a coffee, drink it before it gets cold!” you pointed to what the model is wearing. He looked down at you and saw your sparkling big eyes then pondered, “Now that I think about it, I have never seen you wearing animal prints, but if you want to try...” he points at himself with his thumb. “heh, guess it’s my time to introduce you to animal prints!” he said as he smirked.

*At the thrift store* 

The bells chime as Banri opened the door of the thrift store he goes to and a middle-aged man greets, saying, “It’s been a while, kid.”

“Old man! Yeah, it’s been a while, I missed coming here... hm? where’s that guy?” he asked as he looks around the store. The old man chuckled and said “He ran an errand for me at the town, do you need something from him?” “Send my regards to him, old man!” they both laughed, you see them having a mini conversation, like a father-son would, it’s wholesome just looking at them. “This is (y/n), my girlfriend.” you bowed and smiled at the owner, as you greeted each other.

Banri leads the way to the women’s section. Together you look for animal print outfits that will suit you. You trust your boyfriend as he’s considered a “fashionista” of the Mankai Company. He picked several clothes, and you tried all of them, after trying them all out, you picked a few that you both liked.

You offered to be the one to pay for it, but Banri insisted that he will pay for it, he gave his card and told you he will go to the men’s section to look for some outfits. You nodded and went to the counter. The owner of the store is actually the cashier, as he’s the only one running the small local business. The owner looked at you and Banri from afar, then looks at the clothes you picked. He smiled and whispered to you, “Actually, we have a couple outfit for this, and the size just fits him perfectly, I picked this outfit for Banri since he loves wearing these kinds. Do you want to see it?” he asked as he smiled. You nodded and waited for him over the counter as he goes to the Men’s section. Good thing Banri’s on the accessories section, far from the said section. The owner came back and put the clothes in the paper bag and gave it to you. “I wish the best of you two happiness.” he said as he gave the paper bag to you. It was a close call as Banri called your name behind you, causing you to be surprised. Banri took the paper bag and holds your hand on the other like a couple, Banri waved goodbye to the owner and started walking, you turned your head to look at him and bid goodbye, he just winked while smiling and waves.

*Banri’s birthday*

Pondering if Omi would not really mind as a third wheel on your date today with Banri since you requested to do an outdoor photoshoot the whole day, he assured you it is fine and said that he would like to practice shoots again. While the rest of the guys in Mankai dorms prepare for his birthday. You mentioned to them that three of you will return at the peak of the dusk. As the surprise will start, the moment you three are home. You are wearing a black wool turtleneck sweater and a slim midi silhouette leopard print skirt that sits flatteringly and accentuates your natural waist, finishing with a pair of black ankle boots topped with a thin golden necklace, and a nude trench coat with the same length of your skirt.

Watching the autumn leaves fall from the tree while you wait for Banri at the inner courtyard. You hear a familiar voice calling out your name; you turned your back to see who it was, and it was Banri, wearing a Black Label Merino wool turtleneck sweater, wearing a necklace to contrast everything and black chinos slim-fit pants, finishing with a pair of black leather derby shoes and a leather leopard print turned-down collar casual jacket. Making the both of you as a couple *with taste* You stood up, astounded by Banri’s new look. Banri looked at you from head to toe and said, “You look decent as always.” you glared at him. “I’m joking! I said you look beautiful... as always.” he averted his eyes, looking away shyly. Hearing a rare compliment coming from him, you can’t help but smile. Naturally, you complimented his look today saying, “You look.. charming as always~” you turned your back at him and start to walk, Banri followed you and teases you, saying that he didn’t hear that quite right. You turned your back about to pinch one of his arms to make him stop, but he dodged.

*Sunset at the park*

“Happy Birthday, Banri! I’m sorry if it’s just a simple date, doing photoshoots while on our date.” you felt somehow down, confessing. Banri lifted your chin lightly and said, “There’s nothing to worry about, (y/n). I got to spend my birthday with you, that’s more than enough for me.” He leaned closer and kissed you. Your eyes were open the entire time until he let go and looked at you. He smirked and put his left arm over your waist, keeping you close to him, then you whispered, “You know, Omi’s still here. This is embarrassing.” Banri looked back and see Omi tripping the shutter of his camera.

“Don’t mind me, just taking photos here, continue you lovebirds.” then Omi chuckled for a bit and a sudden idea hit his head saying, “Why not the both of you try applying as couple models? You guys might even be featured at a monthly magazine!”

You and Banri looked at each other at the same time, then Banri spoke first, “If she wants to, I’m down anytime and anywhere.” he smiled and held your hand. “I think it also suits you to be a model.” you said, meaning it’s a yes coming from you. His eyes widened and became suddenly bashful in front of you. Averting his eyes away from you, Omi saw it and teases Banri as they walk going home to the Mankai dorms and you happily followed them.

[ofsleights]

            ✱ ╱ song joong ki + cis man + he / him / his ━ if you happen to find yourself stuck in tartarus, make sure you don't run into SHIN YO-HAN there. the THIRTY FIVE year old has made quite the reputation for themselves under their alias as HECATERUS, a CAPOREGIME OF DRUG DEALERS AND THIEVES for TITANS. while their enemies often describe them as doctrinaire and quarrelsome, their syndicate would say that they're highbrow and urbane. they DO NOT think that zane was murdered, but they'll be keeping that to themselves for now. ( the gentle click of italian leather shoes announcing his presence, dim lamp light illuminating his office at the early morning hours, dark hues dancing with curiosity and chaos, the windows of luxury vehicles kissed by heavy clouds of steam ).

            hi  again,  everyone  !  this  took  me ... forever  to  get  together,  and  is  probably  filled  with  useless details,  but  i’m  so  excited  to  introduce  yohan  to  everyone.  once  more,  i’m  kiva,  twenty4,  prefer  either  she / her  or  they / them  pronouns,  and  i  reside  in  the  eastern  tz  !  also  pls  don’t  roast  my  pinned  JNVCNVC  i  have  a  prettier  one  in  my  drafts,  but  i’m  saving  it  for  when  i  bring  my  second  chara  hehe.  that  being  said,  ‘  yohan,  you  bastard  !  ’  was  filmed  in  front  of  a  live  studio  audience.  😌

*   🃏   𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚃𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙲𝚂.

            name  :  dr.  shin yo-han.  nicknames:  went  by  sebastian  during  his  school  years,  rarely  called  han.  age  +  date  of  birth  :  35  +  june  10th,  1986.  moral  alignment  :  lawful  evil.  gender  +  pronouns  :  cis  man  +  he / him / hims.  place  of  birth  :  carnegie  jill,  new  york.  place  of  residence  :  tartarus,  california.  orientation  :  bisexual  biromantic.  occupation  :  caporegime  professor  of  game  theory.  nationality  :  korean - american.  ethnicity  :  korean.  languages  spoken  :  korean,  english,  japanese,  and  conversational  spanish.

*   🃏   𝙱𝙸𝙾𝙶𝚁𝙰𝙿𝙷𝚈.

            —   when  one  hears  the  shin  family  name,  they  are  aware  of  who  they’re  about  encounter.  made  up  of  shin  cho - hee  and  shin  jin - hwan,  the  two  were  set  up  for  life  from  the  moments  they  were  born,  but  that  doesn’t  mean  that  they  didn’t  know  how  to  work  to  get  more  of  what  they  already  had.  with  the  best  colleges  on  their  resumés  and  the  amount  of  money  in  their  bank  accounts,  it  was  only  a  matter  of  time  for  them  to  meet  (  even  if  it  was  their  parents  who  set  up  the  meeting  ).

            —   they  turn  out  to  be  a  match  made  in  heaven  as  the  couple  are  both  ruthless  and  cunning,  with  desires  to  expand  their  families  fortunes.  cho - hee  and  jin - hwan  marry  in  a  lavish  ceremony,  and  not  even  five  years  later,  they’re  moving  to  new  york  city  to  take  their  companies  from  strictly  europe  and  asia  based  to  the  west.  the  company  grows  exponentially  within  a  few  short  years,  and  during  that  time,  they  have  their  only  child  yo-han.  

            —  yohan  is  a  child  that  fell  in  line  when  he  was  supposed  to  and  was  clearly  grateful  of  the  life  he  was  able  to  live.  attending  the  trinity  school  in  new  york  city,  yohan  was  afforded  the  best  education  that  money  could  buy,  so  it  was  no  surprise  that  he  graduated  with  high  marks.  the  only  downside  that  he  faced  was  the  lack  of  bonding  time  that  he  had  with  his  parents  (  as  they  were  often  too  busy  for  him  ),  but  when  soccer  games  continuously  got  missed,  dinners  were  often  had  alone,  or  field  trip  permission  slip  signatures  were  forged,  yohan  easily  grasped  that  he  was  essentially  on  his  own.

            —   college  acceptances  roll  out,  and  yohan  goes  off  to  study  economics  at  columbia  university.  an  honors  student,  yohan  does  well  as  he’s  expected  to,  and  although  they’ve  missed  most  of  his  life,  his  parents  are  able  to  brag  about  having  their  child  graduate  from  one  of  the  ivies.  academically,  yohan  appeases  his  parents,  going  on  to  study  economics  at  stanford  for  his  masters  degree  and  princeton  for  his  phd.  during  those  years,  yohan  develops  an  interest  in  game  theory.  while  he  was  good  at  beating  anyone  in  a  game  of  logic,  yohan’s  immense  knowledge  is  what  eventually  gets  him  into  trouble.

           —   while  getting  his  masters,  yohan  began  using  said  knowledge  to  start  counting  cards  at  casinos.  he’ll  lose  a  few  hands  here  and  there  to  make  up  for  his  big  wins,  but  of  course  it  doesn’t  take  long  for  him  to  start  getting  some  . . .  unwanted  attention.  forever  able  to  get  himself  out  of  trouble  with  a  bit  of  smooth  talking,  it  works  for  a  while  until  he  gets  the  attention  of  the  titans.  if  there  was  one  thing  about  yohan,  he  may  have  been  privileged  since  birth,  but  he  was  both  book  and  street  smart  . . .  maybe  too  much  for  his  good.  it  was  inevitable  that  yohan’s  abilities  to  get  what  he  wants  while  charming  the  pants  off  others  works  in  his  favor.

            —   by  night,  yohan  was  once  a  lowly  thief  himself,  greedy  fingers  taking  what  was  needed  and  executing  flawless  heists  where  they  were  in  and  out  in  record  time.  by  day,  he  was  soon  a  phd  student  which  then  turned  into  having  a  more . . . legitimate  job  as  a  professor  of  game  theory  at  a  local  university.  through  those  years  of  moonlighting,  yohan  moves  up  in  the  ranks,  and  has  now  taken  over  as  capo  of  the  drug  dealers  and  thieves.  (  this  was  bad  i’m  so  sorry  )

*   🃏   𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙲𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽𝚂.

a  piece  of  shit,  i’ll  be  the  first  to  admit  it.  he’s  a  one  and  done  kind  of  man  which  makes  him  sound  SO  bad,  but  he’s  just  casual  about  a  lot  of  things  he  does  in  a  romantic  light.

brash  !  straightforward  !  will  tell  you  you’re  stupid  to  your  face  in  the  form  of  :  ‘  are  you  dumb  ?  ’  and  he’s  not  asking.  

since  his  godly  alias  is  hecaterus,  basically  he’s  just  really  good  at  sleight  of  hand  !  which  is  why,  it  makes  sense  that  he’s  good  at  stealing  lol.  probably  teaches  the  dealers  a  thing  or  two  about  how  to  do  quick  transactions  and  the  like,  and  is  good  at  well  executed  heists.  five  minutes  or  less  is  the  goal.

at  most  he  probably  gets  along  with  his  cat  the  best  💀.  the  cat  doesn’t  even  have  a  name  they  just  vibe  in  his  fancy  apartment  together.

well  dressed  . . .  so  well  dressed  he’ll  make  you  cry  (  JOKE  ).  but  in  all  seriousness,  he’s  sharply  dressed  in  well  tailored  suits  or  at  least  well  tailored  button  downs  and  trousers  at  all  times.  hair  is  styled  off  off  his  forehead,  only  ever  down  at  home.  not  much  of  a  sneakers  man  unless  working  out.

probably  has  a  therapist  who  can’t  stand  him  because  he  doesn’t  open  up  and  answers  questions  with  questions.

*   🃏   𝚆𝙰𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙳.

his  heavenly  companion.  maybe  this  is  kinda  silly,  but  basically  one  of  the  strippers  that  he  gets  along  v  well  with  and  idk,  they  vibe  whenever  he  comes  around.  usually  it’s  just  to  hang  out  and  get  a  drink  or  two,  he’ll  pay  them  well  for  literally  five  minutes  of  time  lol  bonus  points  if  they  spill  him  the  beans  about  customers  hehe.

damn  . . .  an  ex  !  i’m  thinking  they  got  really  serious  and  were  so  into  each  other  but  then  they  could have  found  out  what  he  does  really  or  they’re  from  another  syndicate  so  their  breakup  was  really  inevitable.

a  best  friend  !  someone  who  calls  him  out  on  his  shit  and  he  does  vice  versa.  they  get  along  too  well,  almost  bordering  on  the  line  of  siblings.  they  probably  bicker  like  siblings  too.

friends  with  benefits  kinda  situation.  simply  put,  they’re  there  for  one  another  when  they  need  to  relieve  some  steam  but  they  also  get  along  really  well.  someone  catching  feelings  . . .  👀.

crush  ?  idk,  someone  who  might  like  him  (  for  whatever  reason  )  but  it’s  too  damn  oblivious  to  notice  .

of  course,  connections  from  the  titans  !  positive,  negative,  neutral  . . .  hand  it  over  !  and  i’m  down  to  fill  any  wanted  connections  where  you  could  see  yohan  fitting  but  pls  let’s  plot  i’ve  waited  long  enough  !