#and no matter what i queue i cannot shake him

[tswaney17]

I Do Bad Things with You - Part 39

Happy @elriel-month fam!! Of course, we're going to celebrate the "What If" prompt with an IDBTWY update. 😏 I'm very excited to share this piece with you and cannot wait for the following two parts (which may be my two favorites of the series). While this is my official last fic of Elriel Month, I will be sharing something tomorrow about an upcoming project, so be on the lookout for that. Grab a snack, this is a long one. Much love to you all! 💙💜💚

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​​​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Catch up here.

Credit to @featherymalignancy for Cassian’s nickname, Cash. 😘

Trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault , language, NSFW

Word Count: 9,655

He had everything planned. Called Elain’s boss and got her approved time off. Packed their bags and hid them in the closet until their flight. Now they were in the entryway of the apartment.

His plane was currently sitting on the runway, waiting for them.

The only thing left to do was to tell her.

Azriel was waiting at home for Elain to get off work. She was scheduled a half day—per his request—and would be home any minute.

As if waiting for her queue, the elevator doors pinged open and she stepped out, startled at the sight of him standing there in a pair of dark jeans, a black t-shirt, and sneakers. “Oh!” she breathed, moving further into the foyer. “This is a surprise…what are you doing here?” Her honey-brown eyes darted to the two suitcases and back to his. Brows furrowing, she asked him, “Are you going somewhere?”

A half smile curled up the corner of his lips. “No,” he said, letting her confusion grow just a hair more. “We’re going somewhere. A little trip for a few days.”

That had her eyes widening and she crossed her arms, propping a hip on the foyer table. “Az, babe.” Fuck he loved when she called him that. “I’m not sure if you’ve forgotten this but I can’t exactly work remotely for my job.” The teasing tone of voice had him chuckling.

“I’m very well aware of that, my sweet. We’re each taking the next four days off.”

“I have to request time off, Azriel—”

“You did. Or I did, I should say. I called your boss last month to ask if you could take these four days off for a surprise trip I was planning for you.” Her brows shot into her hairline. “He readily agreed, saying that you never take time off and it was well-earned.”

Her arms went slack at her sides. “You called my boss to request time off for me?”

He nodded. Fuck, Az hoped he didn’t overstep.

“And you planned a whole trip?”

“I did.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Is this the reason we moved Nesta and Cassian’s baby shower to next month, closer to her due date?”

He flashed a cheeky smile. “Perhaps…”

“And it’s just us?” she asked.

“Just us,” he confirmed. He didn’t feel it was necessary to bring the whole protection detail with them. It was a last-minute, short trip. And they would be together the whole time. He wanted to give Elain this sense of normalcy. The privacy of just spending time alone together.

Elain was silent as she stared at him. Emotions flickered across her face, the most prominent of them: shock. “Nobody has ever done anything like this for me,” she whispered, eyes glistening.

Relief washed over him at her words—the disbelief that someone took the time to plan something just for her. “We need to get a move on; why don’t you go change so we can head out in say,” he glanced at his watch, “a half hour?”

An airy giggle escaped her. “Can I shower first? I still feel like I have the hospital on me. And I need to pack.”

“I’ve packed for you.”

At that, she laughed. “Now that makes me nervous.” Shaking her head. “I need more than lingerie, Az.”

A deep, rumbling chuckle burst out of him. “Not that I wouldn’t mind you parading around in lingerie—or nothing for that matter—for the entire duration of our trip, I promise you I packed you real clothing.” And he had; grabbed some of her things and bought a few new pieces, such as the silk robe and a swimsuit.

Elain pursed her lips to keep herself from smiling as she moved closer to him, stepping into his arms and kissing him. “All right. Let me freshen up and then we’ll leave. Where are we headed?”

Azriel dropped his lips to her pert nose, loving the way she scrunched it up. “It’s a surprise, my lady. Now, go get ready so we can leave.” He gently pushed her towards the stairs and then swatted her behind, making her yelp.

“And wear something comfortable!” he called up to her.

“Okay, Dad!”

Oh, she was definitely going to get it for that comment. In the front pocket of his suitcase was the little toy he bought her. And, boy, did he have plans to use it.

~~~

Within half an hour, Elain was downstairs, dressed in leggings and an oversized sweater, and sneakers. She looked positively adorable. “Is this okay for travel?”

In truth, she might be a little warm when they got to their destination, but he had a car lined up and could kick the AC up if she needed it. “It’s perfect. Let’s go.” Az shrugged on his sweatshirt hanging off one of the barstools since it was still winter in Velaris. Grabbing both of their luggage, he escorted Elain down to the garage.

“You’re still not going to tell me where we’re headed?”

He shot her a wink, pressed the button to close the hatch of their car, and went to open her door for her. “Nope,” he stated, popping the p sound.

Elain huffed exasperated, climbing into the passenger seat.

He held her hand the entire drive, every once in a while, bringing her knuckles to his lips to brush a kiss to them. But when he pulled up at the airstrip where his jet was housed on the backside of the airport, he turned to look at her and found both surprise and a hint of fear shining in her eyes.

It was not what he was expecting. Cutting the engine, Az twisted in his seat to face her more fully. “El, love. Talk to me.” He kept his voice quiet, not wanting to startle her but begging her to speak her mind.

Elain let out a weighted breath. “The plane…I—,” she hesitated looking for the right words. “It reminds me of that day.”

Fuck, he’d been so stupid not to think about how her kidnapping might have instilled a phobia of flying. Azriel took note that Gavriel and Dorian were still standing at the top of the stairs to his jet, waiting for their queue to approach. “Elain, I am so sorry. I didn’t even think that you might have an issue with planes after that incident.”

“How could you have known? I didn’t even know until seeing it.”

He squeezed her fingers in reassurance, brushing his thumb across the backside of her palm. “If you want to turn around and go home, we can, but I want you to know that this is my jet and those two pilots up there,” he watched her eyes glance at the two males. “I trust them with my life. They will get us to our destination safely, I promise you that. But the choice is yours.”

She sat quietly, looking at the plane until finally, a small smile crept onto her lips. “I supposed I shouldn’t be shocked that you have your own jet.”

Azriel tipped his head back and laughed, exposing the strong column of his throat. “No, you really shouldn’t.”

“It’s why you said the plane wouldn’t leave without you for your last business trip, right?”

He grinned. “Indeed it was.”

“I would’ve looked completely idiotic showing up at the airport for you and you never showed.”

“Cerridwen would’ve taken you to the airstrip, not the airport.”

She looked at him then, golden-brown locks sliding off her shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me you had this?”

Az shrugged. “I thought I could use it to my advantage one day.”

“Ah, yes. Well, you succeeded.”

He stroked the backside of her hand again. “So, love, what will it be? Home or away?”

Elain looked between him and the plane. Leaning across the center console, she kissed him, fingers skimming delicately across his jaw. “Let’s go on an adventure,” she breathed against his lips.

Smiling, Azriel cupped the backside of her head, pulling her in for another slow kiss. His tongue traced the seam of her mouth, begging for entry and when she granted him access, he took full advantage. Popping the trunk, he jumped out of the car and made his way to her side, helping her out.

Both men had reached them, collecting their bags from the back, and met them at the stairs.

The older one, with hair golden like the sun and tawny eyes, spoke first. “Mr. Knight, it’s good to see you.” Releasing Azriel’s hand, he focused on her. “You must be Doctor Archeron? It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She took his hand, shaking it. “Just Elain, please.”

“Elain,” he said, tasting her name on his tongue. “My name is Gavriel and this is my copilot, Dorian.”

The dark-haired man shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, Elain.”

“It’s great to meet you both. How long have you been working for Azriel?”

Az slid a scarred palm to settle on her lower back.

“I’ve been under Mr. Knight’s employment for about five years now,” Gavriel explained. “Dorian got his pilot’s license in the Airforce and is new to flying private jets. He’s been with us for just over a year now.”

“Gavriel is Aelin’s uncle, Elain. And Dorian a friend of hers since school,” Azriel told her.

She looked at him standing next to her. “Ah, so she took advantage of her position with you,” she joked.

All three men burst out laughing.

“Something like that,” Dorian said, grinning.

Gavriel waved a hand in the direction of the stairs. “Your chariot awaits, my lady. We’ll do final checks once inside and get cleared for takeoff.”

Nudging her up the stairs, Az watched as Elain took in her surroundings, her eyes darting around the cabin of the plane before settling on him. He could read the slight nervousness she was trying to hide but was pushing through. “Where would you like to sit?”

She looked at the couch, then the table. “Where do you recommend?”

He thought about it. “The table allows you to sit facing forward, which is preferable if you get motion sickness. The couch is more comfortable.”

“I don’t think I get sick, so let’s try the couch.”

Guiding her there, Azriel sat her down and reached into the seats to buckle her in.

A small smile played on her lips. “Why do I get the feeling you like strapping me down?”

Dorian choked, nearly dropping the suitcase he was storing in the upper cabinets.

Elain’s face went scarlet at realizing she was overheard and buried it into his neck.

He laughed, putting his arms around her as the young pilot scampered into the cockpit and shut the door. “While tying you up has its appeal, let’s save that for when we don’t have two others present.”

She groaned into his throat. “I did not mean to say that out loud. Or at least in the presence of others.”

Az pushed her back to kiss her cheek. “Fret not, my love. Dorian’s got a bit of a reputation as a ladies’ man. It’s likely nothing he’s never explored.”

“Fine, but that doesn’t mean he needs to know what we do in private.”

He brushed a rogue curl behind her ear. “All of my close employees sign an NDA. He won’t speak a word. I promise you he’s probably heard worse. Nuala has a mouth on her, especially when she talks about her fiancée.”

Elain shuddered. “Remind me not to ask about said fiancée.”

“Noted,” he chuckled, leaning in to kiss the tip of her nose. Sitting down next to her, he fastened his seatbelt and settled his large hand on her thigh.

The engines roared to life and Az felt Elain tense next to him. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he tucked her close to him, pressing his lips to the side of her head. “We’re okay,” he murmured into her hair.

Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. This is your captain speaking. Please fasten your seatbelts as we have been cleared for takeoff. We will be cruising at ten thousand feet today. Please sit back, relax, and enjoy your flight.

Hoping to ease Elain’s discomfort as they took off, Az focused on peppering kisses along her cheek, and her neck, tugging the collar of her sweater away to grant himself access to her shoulder.

It worked. Elain started giggling during the ascent. “Are you trying to seduce me?” she sighed, head tilting to the side and offering more of her skin for him to taste.

He smiled into her throat. “Depends. Is it working?” His tongue lapped at the soft skin behind her ear, teeth nipping until he knew she’d have a bruise there.

She hummed in contentment. “Perhaps.”

Once the plane leveled out and Gavriel gave them the all-clear to move about the cabin, Azriel unbuckled his seatbelt and went to the bar, pouring each of them a glass of champagne.

“Thank you.” She smiled sweetly up at him, taking the glass from his outstretched hand.

He plopped back down next to her, clinking their glasses together. “Just a few hours until our destination.”

Elain took a sip, contemplating the information. “Still not going to tell me where you’re taking me?”

“Nope. It’ll ruin the surprise.”

She chuckled, leaning into his frame. “Well, I suppose we should just relax then since you aren’t being helpful.”

He kissed her forehead, and then her lips, savoring the sweetness of the champagne on them. “I suppose we will.”

~~~~~

When Elain looked out the window and saw the ocean, she finally figured out where he was taking her. “We’re going to the Summer District.”

“Well, technically we’re in it already,” Az grinned.

She leaned an elbow on the window ledge, staring out at the blue water. “Is this another business trip?” She wouldn’t be upset if he was utilizing this opportunity to do business and as a vacation.

He reached forward, gripping her chin to force her gaze to his. “You said you wanted to go somewhere with a beach.” She had—when he asked her where she wanted to vacation during their video call. “No side work. Nothing is pulling me away from you for these next four days.” His thumb swept under her bottom lip. “Just us.”

Smiling, Elain nipped the pad of his thumb.

Thankfully, the descent didn’t make her as nervous as the ascent. She didn’t think her fear of planes was completely conquered, but it was a good step in the right direction. And as long as she had Azriel by her side, it wasn’t something she couldn’t work through.

A car was waiting for them when they landed. Back in the passenger seat, Elain took in everything around her. They were in the city of Adriata. A beautiful, bustling, glistening city with towering buildings, amazing architecture, markets on nearly every corner, and everything else you could imagine in a coastal town.

They drove in companionable silence until Azriel continued past the city’s edge. “Where are we going?” she finally asked him as houses became few and far between.

A curve of his lips. “To where we’re staying at.”

She looked at him then. “We’re not staying in a hotel in the city?”

“If I don’t stay in a hotel for business trips, did you think I was going to subject you to it for a vacation?”

Elain huffed a laugh. “You’re an overspender, you know that?”

Azriel quickly looked at her, his face giving nothing away, and then back at the road. “Baby, you have no idea.”

Well, she got the idea when he pulled into the driveway of a large home with an unattached guest house, and…Jesus fuck, was that a sale pending sign in the front lawn? Her golden-brown eyes widened. “Azriel, where are we?”

A boyish grin took over his face. Clicking the button to pop the trunk, he told her, “Come on.”

Grabbing their bags from the back, Azriel met her at the front door, unlocking it and letting her inside. He put their suitcases down in the foyer and shut the door behind them.

Elain took hesitant steps into the house. It was beyond gorgeous. The open floor plan allowed for easy access from the kitchen area, divided off by a built-in bar, to the living and dining room. The color scheme was a combination of white with blue-gray and wooden accents. Large bay windows encased the entire side of the house that faced a beautiful pool, a private beach, and the open ocean. Sitting on the back porch was a full patio set with an L-shaped couch and two chairs.

She stood frozen in the center of the living room, in awe of the entire home.

“Azriel,” she started, “did you buy this?”

A large hand came down onto her shoulder, fingers squeezing. “Technically, we bought this.”

Elain whipped around.

“Well, technically we’re in closing dependent on you.”

“On me?” She blinked. “What are you going on about?”

He wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing his forehead to hers. “I wanted to purchase this house together. With both our names on the deed. The application is basically done—they just need your approval to add you to the mortgage and then we’ll sign.”

“You want to move?”

Azriel laughed, pulling back to look down at her face. “No, love. Not move. But we could use a summer home.”

She gaped. “You want a what now?”

“A summer home,” he repeated. “A place that is ours where we can come vacation at when we need to get away from everything and everyone.”

Elain’s eyes darted between his, hearing him but still not quite understanding. “I—why?”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “Because I want to. Because you mentioned you wanted to go to someplace with a beach and this area has some of the best ones in the country. Because I fell in love with the house when I was last here and could picture us vacationing here. I could see you here, sitting out on the beach or by the pool. I imagined you actually relaxing for once. You don’t do it nearly enough.”

Listening to him, Elain realized that he knew this place better than he was letting on. “This is the house you rented for your business trip, isn’t it?”

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “It is. The owner had said I was his last rental before he sold it—with all the furnishings, I might add. He was in the process of putting it up on the market. I simply told him not to bother. That I would purchase it under the assumption that you agreed.”

“It’s not my money, Az.”

He frowned. “Elain, what I have is also yours. And if you decide you don’t want this house, then I’ll pull it. But if you do, this will be our home here.”

She hesitated, glancing around the room. Gods, it really was a beautiful house.

“Before you make a decision,” he interrupted her train of thoughts, “at least let me take you on a tour to help you decide.”

Taking her hand, Azriel led her through the kitchens, showing her the pristine countertops, state-of-the-art appliances, and cozy knickknacks that were sporadically placed all over. Elain could picture the two of them making breakfast together, her sitting on the counter providing unnecessary instructions while Az laughed at her antics, refilling her mimosa or cup of coffee and kissing her.

Tugging her through the house, he took her to the living area, upstairs into the bedrooms—there were five in this house alone and apparently two more with a full bathroom, kitchen, and living room in the guest house. There was enough room for their entire family, and then some.

They traveled back down the stairs to a small library-like office with a nook facing the ocean. It was a quaint room, filled with dark furniture that reminded her of a castle library.

And then he pulled her to the final room, a game room of the sorts with a dart board, a foosball table, and a pool table.

Elain ran her fingertips over the wood of the table; brushed them along the velvet grass.

Azriel wrapped his arms around her waist. “Do you play?”

She shrugged. “I know the basic idea. You use the sticks to pop balls into pockets, right?”

His chest rumbled with the force of his laughter. “I mean, that’s the gist of it. You use the cue stick to push the white ball into your designated solids or stripes. The first one to sink their balls and then the eight ball wins.”

“Sounds fascinating.”

Scarred fingers slipped under the hem of her sweater, rubbing at the skin of her hipbones. “Do you want to play?” he murmured, lips pressed onto her cheek.

Her lips curved up. “Why don’t we make it interesting?”

A light kiss on her jaw. “Hmm? What did you have in mind?”

Elain tipped her head to the side. “Winner gets to pick the next activity.”

Azriel’s mouth brushed the shell of her ear. “That seems like an unfair advantage for me.” The ghost of a whisper sent shivers running down her spine.

Her toes curled in her sneakers. “Then I suppose you should think about what it is you want to do next.” Twisting her head, she told him, “Rack them up.”

After giving her a final kiss, Az did as he was told, prepping the balls and then handing her one of the cue sticks. “Do you want to break?”

She shook her head. “No, you go ahead.”

Azriel leaning over the table to line up his shot had heat pooling between her legs. His trim waist, broad shoulders, and the delicious curve of his ass were all on display for her. The balls clanked together, sending a colored one into the corner pocket. He grinned at her. “I’m solids.”

He worked his way around the table, sinking two more balls before his third shot went wide. Lips pursed, he muttered a foul curse.

Elain just smiled sweetly at him. “So, I just hold it like this?” she asked, purposely pulling her elbow wide.

“Ah, so this is why you wanted to play,” he smirked, leaning over her and adjusting her hold. The cradle of his hips pressed into her ass, fitting her perfectly.

“Something like that,” she told him as he helped her shoot and sank her first stripped ball. Leaning up, she pulled his cheek forward to kiss. “I think I got it now.”

Truth be told, Elain was good at pool. Like really good. Competition-worthy. But, he didn’t need to know that yet. She grabbed another easy shot in the side pocket. But for her third, she lined up for an off-the-side wall, opposite corner pocket. With a steady breath, she sank her third stripe.

Looking up at him, she grinned at his wary face. He wasn’t quite there, but she knew he was close to catching on. Sidling between him and the table, she murmured an “Excuse me,” giving him a slight poke in the stomach with the end of her cue stick as she bent over the table and rubbed her ass against his crotch.

He hissed, shuffling to the side slightly, and laid his large palm over the small of her back.

Ignoring how his touch lit an inferno inside of her, Elain shot the next ball across the table, between two of his solids, and right into the corner pocket.

“Why do I get the feeling you’ve played this before?” Az asked, eyes narrowing at her.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Her fourth shot ran down the side of the table and into the bottom corner pocket, but her fifth just barely missed the side hole. She made an indignant noise, leaning back up off the table.

Using the same move as she did, Azriel slipped between her and the table, pressing his body against hers. He sank the first shot by using his ball and tapping it into another. Then pocketed the fifth ball right behind it. But his sixth missed giving her a perfect spot for her final three shots.

“Eight ball, right corner pocket,” she called, indicating with her cue stick. Elain shot, bouncing the black ball off the side and sending it hurtling into its correct pocket.

Azriel stood there, leaning on his cue stick in complete disbelief. “You hustled me!”

The corner of her mouth curled up into a devious little smirk as she snickered. “Perhaps,” she answered cheekily.

“You little minx,” he growled, dropping his stick to the floor and sweeping her up into his arms. Their mouths crashed together for a heated, passionate kiss.

Legs wrapping around his waist, Elain dropped her cue, letting her fingers slide into his hair and tugging it at the root.

He groaned, pulling back far enough to rest his forehead on hers. Breathing harshly, he asked her, “So, since you hustled me for the win, what are we doing next?”

Catching her breath, Elain gave him her answer. “I think we should christen the house, starting with this table.”

That had Azriel shifting back to look at her face. He slowly cupped the side of her cheek. “Christen it as in we’re buying it?”

The sweet hope in his voice had her heart melting. She nodded. “Yes, I want to buy this house, Az. I want this to be our summer home. One where we can have our family come to enjoy and take vacations.” She kissed his lips softly before adding, “I want this home with you.”

Making a choking sound, Azriel surged forward and kissed her greedily. His tongue slipped between her lips, stroking hers until she was moaning. Needing to feel her skin, he yanked her sweater over her head, leaving her in her bra, leggings, and sneakers. Guiding her to lie back on the table, he removed one shoe, kissed her ankle, and then repeated the motion with her other.

Elain grabbed the hem of his shirt, having discarded his sweatshirt earlier, and tugged it over his head. His black locks went wild in disarray but it somehow made him even sexier. Her fingers went to his belt, deftly undoing it and the button of his jeans.

He tore her leggings off to reveal the scrap of lace she wore. Azriel’s eyes went wide as he took in the matching set. Lightly brushing the pads of his fingers over her cup, he asked her, “Did you wear this for me, love?”

She smiled bashfully at him. “I did. Do you like it?”

Blown-out eyes, framed by a ring of hazel glanced up at her. “Fuck yeah, I do. It’s taking every ounce of my self-control not to rip them right off you.”

“No need to be an animal, Azriel,” she teased, flashing him a sultry smile.

He swept his hands down her body, savoring the feeling of her delicate skin beneath his palms. “Baby, you have no idea.” Sucking on her neck, he slipped his hands beneath her to unhook her bra, pulling it off her and dropping it unceremoniously on the ground at his feet.

His mouth traveled down her chest, pulling her nipple into his mouth and grazing it with his teeth.

Elain arched off the table, moaning at the sensation that tugged at her core.

Fingers slipping between her legs, he stroked her over the fabric, feeling the dampness that had formed. “Fuck, you’re so wet already,” he swore, sliding the garment to the side and pushing his finger inside of her with no resistance.

She cried out, hips undulating towards his hand. Pleasure coursed through her body when he brought his thumb down to circle her clit. “Stop playing,” Elain growled, using her feet to push his pants and boxers down his thighs.

A wicked little smirk formed on his lips. “And what if I want to taste?” he demanded, pumping into her with a second finger.

“Suck your fingers. I just need your cock. Now.”

Surprise lit his face. Elain was never particularly vocal, nor demanding in bed. She’d sometimes tell him what she wanted from him, but it was typically out of desperation. Not as a command.

Azriel pulled his fingers from her and placed them against her mouth. “Taste yourself.” His voice brooked no room for argument and Elain wrapped her lips around his digits, drawing them further into her oral cavity until the tips touched the back of her throat.

Breathing steadily through her nose, she sucked his fingers like it was his cock, lapping her tongue around each to clean the slick of her off.

Pumping his hand into her mouth, Az rubbed himself against her, coating his cock in her juices and providing just the right amount of pressure to her clit.

She moaned around his fingers as he thrust into her in one movement, burying himself to the hilt. Elain clawed at his back while he readjusted her legs around his hips, locking him to her.

Azriel set a brutal pace, using the leverage from her jaw to snap into her.

Elain having been on the precipice of an orgasm, crested just after a few strokes of his cock. Her body shook as he fucked her through it, pulling his fingers from her mouth and replacing them with his lips.

A string of spit followed his fingers, but he didn’t care as he crashed their lips and teeth and tongues together in a bruising kiss.

Yanking himself out of her, he grabbed her off the table and set her back on her feet. Twisting her around, he bent her back over, raising her hips.

Elain felt her release drip down her thighs, and then Az’s fingers stroked through her still-spasming entrance, collecting the slickness and bringing it up to her back hole. She moaned as he fingered her rosebud, head bowing. “Are you going to fuck me there?” she asked, shaky from the intensity of her last orgasm.

“Do you want me to fuck you here, love?” he inquired, voice guttural.

She moaned as one of his fingers slipped inside, gently thrusting in and out of her ass. “Yes.” The word was purely a whine.

Azriel made some deep, throaty sound, leaning over her body to kiss her shoulder. “Such a good girl for me. Letting me do the most sinful things to you.” He bit the junction of her neck, sucking a mark into her skin that had her sighing at the tingling feeling. “One day, I will claim your ass, Elain Archeron,” he all but growled. “But not today. I don’t have the proper equipment with me at the moment for your first time.”

Elain flipped her hair over her shoulder to look at him. “Promise?” she cooed.

A groan rumbled from his chest. “Fuck me, Elain. You will be the death of me someday,” he snarled. “I promise to fuck your ass until you’re limp with pleasure.” Without waiting for a response, he sheathed himself back inside of her, hips snapping into hers until the room echoed their skin slapping skin and heavy breathing.

Her fingers dug into the velvet grass of the table, and when he wrapped her hair around his other wrist, tugging it until she was arched, Elain couldn’t stop the pathetic whimper from escaping her.

“You have the tightest fucking cunt, baby,” he moaned. “Fucking you is like a dream every time.”

She couldn’t even form words to respond; only able to clench around him until he swore.

Picking up his pace, he brushed his lips to the shell of her ear, commanding her to let go.

And let go she did. Screaming, Elain ripped into her pleasure from both his cock and his fingers. Some slur came out of her, though she couldn’t tell if it was his name or just a bunch of sounds jumbled together. It may have been both for all she knew.

Azriel’s thrust became sloppy as he chased his own high. Slamming into her a final time, he came, teeth clamping onto her shoulder over the mark he already made and intensifying it.

They both collapsed onto the table, Az’s weight adding to the table edge that dug into her hips, but she was too far gone into her hazy pleasure to care.

He gave her one more gentle stroke, causing her to whimper before he tugged himself out.

The loss of him had her clenching around nothing, but she felt their combined releases dripping from her convulsing pussy,

His fingers made quick work, swiping the mess up and shoving it back inside of her. “Hold that in for me,” he growled.

She was barely coherent enough to process his words, but she managed to do as he ordered.

“Hang tight,” he murmured, dropping a kiss to her sweat-soaked back.

Truth be told, Elain wasn’t able to move an inch. She was too tired, too sated to even think about getting up off the table. She heard fabric sliding down his legs as he shucked off the rest of his clothing, and then she was being gathered up into his arms and carried up the stairs to the master bathroom.

Azriel gently set her on the counter, making her hiss from the cold porcelain as it touched her heated skin before he set about starting the bath. They stayed in the tub far too long as they slowly made love again in the warm water, Elain riding him and christening yet another room in their new home.

~~~

She woke the following morning before sunrise, internal clock off from the two-hour time difference compared to Velaris. Carefully, Elain slipped from Azriel’s arms, smiling at the grunt of protest he let out. His hands reached out searching for her body. Tugging the sheets up to his shoulder, she went to the dresser and pulled out undergarments to put on.

Grabbing the silk robe he surprised her with, Elain slipped it on, tying it at the waist before quietly closing the bedroom door behind her and making her way downstairs.

She put the coffeepot on, poured herself a mug, and added her creamer that was somehow, already in the fridge. Azriel must’ve had someone come in and stock the fridge with necessities. They had ordered a pizza to be delivered last night, neither having the energy nor desire to go out for dinner after their multiple rounds. They managed to christen the game room, their master bathroom and bedroom, their private balcony under the stars, and the kitchen/dining areas after eating some much-needed food.

Elain perched herself on the couch facing the ocean, tucking her feet under her, as she watched the sunrise in glorious shades of orange, pink, and gold. It was much warmer here than in Velaris at this time. She was perfectly comfortable in her bra, underwear, and silky robe. Elain basked in the warmth and beautiful sights for a good hour before she heard movement upstairs.

Soon enough, Azriel was coming down the stairs bare from the waist up. His grey sweatpants hung deliciously off his cut hips giving her a perfect view of his Adonis belt, defined abdomen, and beautifully swirling ink over his muscled chest and shoulders.

He leaned down and kissed her softly. “You weren’t in bed when I woke. I had plans to give you the proper wake-up call this morning.” His voice was still heavy with sleep, taking on a rasp that had her toes curling beneath her.

“Sorry, my love. My clock is still on Velaris time. Plus, I wanted to watch the sunrise.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?” he asked her curiously.

“Because you don’t get enough sleep as it is. And you looked too peaceful to wake.”

Azriel’s eyes traveled down her form, taking in the robe she wore; how it split at the top revealing much of her chest. He reached down and slipped his fingers into the fabric, parting it even more to see what, exactly, she had on underneath. Those deft fingers gripped the tie and pulled, opening it up for him to see her in another matching lace set. He groaned, head tipping back towards the heavens. “You’re going to kill me in this outfit, El.”

Her nipples hardened at his words and a smirk tugged at her lips. “Perhaps you should take it off, then.”

He sank to his knees in front of her, large, warm hands, gripping her thighs and untangling her legs from underneath her. “Two rounds this morning. I have a lot planned for us and we need to get an early start.”

Surprise lit her face, not having realized he planned a whole day for them. Though, she shouldn’t have been shocked seeing as this entire trip was completely his doing. “What are we doing today?” she asked, sucking in a breath at the heated look in those amber eyes.

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” he murmured before ripping her panties down her legs and settling between her thighs. “But first, breakfast.” Throwing her knees onto his shoulders, Azriel feasted on her until she was coming on his tongue.

Two hours later, they were dressed, fed—properly this time—and stood outside on the driveway arguing.

“Azriel, I’m not getting on that deathtrap,” Elain said, arms crossed over her chest.

His first surprise of the day was a motorcycle. A fucking motorcycle. She stared at him in disbelief as he tried to coax her onto the back of it.

“El, love, my sweet,” he tried, using nearly every pet name he had for her, “this is the best way to view the city.”

She rolled her eyes at the attempt but didn’t budge. “Do you know how many people show up in the emergency room from a motorcycle accident? How many die from it?”

He sighed. “Those people likely don’t give the vehicle the respect it needs to be ridden—”

“And what about the other people on the road who don’t respect them?” Elain interrupted.

“Do you think I would do anything to put you in danger, Elain? I promise you that you’ll be safe with me on this. Please, just give it a try. I know you’ll love it.”

She hesitated, arms dropping uselessly to their sides. “I’m in a skirt, Az.”

“So? You’ll be pressed into me. Nobody will see a thing.”

After a few moments of them staring at each other, he finally snapped, “For god’s sake, Elain. Get that cute butt on the damn bike so we can get to our next stop on time.”

She narrowed her eyes at him for the words, but it was exactly what she needed to take a hesitant step forward. Then another until she was standing right in front of him and letting him put a helmet on her, snapping the clip under her jaw.

Azriel flicked the visor down over her eyes and guided her onto the bike behind him. “Hold on tight,” he told her, starting the engine.

It roared to life and she wrapped her arms around him, grabbing ahold of his belt and the waistband of his jeans as he gently kicked off the ground and slowly drove out of the driveway and onto the street. Elain squealed, tightening her hold on him as he sped up.

They drove through the city, taking in the sights and all its offerings. She hated to admit it, but he was right. Viewing the city from the back of the bike was incredible. The feeling of the salt air as it whipped at her skin, the glistening ocean to her side, were balms to her soul. She felt free as they rode through the bustling city.

He pulled onto the pier, parked, and shut off the engine before helping her off the bike. Unclipping his helmet, he hung it on the handlebars, then moved to remove hers. A dazzling smile took over his face at the sparkle she knew was shining in her eyes. “How was that?”

Rolling her eyes despite the stupid grin, she lied, “It was awful. I hated it.”

Azriel laughed. “Your face says otherwise, love.”

She giggled, feeling young and carefree. “Fine. It was fun. Exhilarating, even. You were right about it being the best way to take in the city.”

A self-satisfied smirk pulled up the corner of his lips. “I’m thrilled you enjoyed it.” He kissed her, tugging her close to his body. “Come on,” he murmured, grabbing her hand in his. They walked down the pier taking in the sights and sounds of the carnival located at the end.

They shared a cookies and cream milkshake, though Az only had like four sips of it and left the rest for her. Finally, they reached the end of the pier where a giant, modernized Ferris wheel stood.

Elain planted her feet when Azriel tried to tug her forward. “A Ferris wheel? You know I’m terrified of heights.”

That damn smirk appeared on his lips again. “You were also afraid to get on the plane and the motorcycle, but you did. And did you not tell me it was fun just an hour ago?”

“But that was different!” she spluttered.

He crossed his arms, raising a brow into his dark hair. “How?”

She stared at him like a petulant child, but she knew he was right. There wasn’t a difference between her facing those fears and this one.

“I promise you’ll love this. That Ferris wheel gives you the best view of the city. And the ocean. It’s beautiful. Plus, you’re completely enclosed in the glass container, so you have nothing to fear.”

Elain grumbled a “fine,” letting herself get pulled into the line. The pods could hold up to twenty people each, so it took no time in reaching the front.

Handing a wad of cash to the person working, Az told him, “We want this pod to ourselves. That should cover the fee of a full group, plus pay for the twenty people behind us.

The worker and Elain both gaped at him, but it was the kid who was handed the cash that stuttered, “Y—yes, of course, Sir.”

He escorted her into the glass enclosure, letting the doors snick shut behind them. Guiding her to the other side that faced the ocean, Azriel sat her down and took a spot next to her.

It was completely private, not able to see into the one above them or below. And with the bottom half of the glass frosted, they were nearly hidden from anyone at ground level.

Twisting her head, she looked up at the male next to her. “Why did you do that?” Elain took his hand in hers as the wheel started to spin, sending them to the next spot while the pod below them was cleared out and re-loaded.

“Hmm?” he asked, glancing down at her.

“Why did you pay off the kid to give us this entire pod? What was the purpose?”

He leaned over, kissing her cheek. “Because I wanted to experience this moment privately with you. Is that such a bad thing?”

She shook her head, golden-brown hair swishing with the movement. “No, I suppose it’s not. It does make us look like rich assholes, though.”

Azriel tipped his head back and laughed, exposing the strong column of his throat. The ink tattooed upon the base of it. The sunshine enhanced the golden hue of his skin. He looked stunning in the light.

When the ride lurched again, she gripped his hand tighter.

“I also requested it so I could help you through your fear.” He placed his scarred palm on the upper part of her thigh, fingers dangerously close to her center.

“Azriel,” she hissed, trying to close her legs, but was unable to with his grip. “We are in public.”

“Technically,” he started, sliding his hand further between her legs, “we’re in a private pod that nobody can see into.” Gripping her knee, Az hooked her leg over his, spreading her for him.

The next movement had Elain sucking in a breath, releasing his hand, and grabbing at his forearm. Her nails dug into his skin, not that he seemed to mind.

He stroked her over the fabric covering her, doing a 1-2 swoop with two of his fingers. “Relax,” he whispered. The touch had her legs spreading apart, giving him ample room to work. “Close your eyes.”

Her head fell to his shoulder as her body shuddered. A small whimper passed through her parted lips as she did what he said, eyes shutting.

Azriel kept touching her until her underwear was damp and then slid them to the side to plunge his middle finger inside of her. Twisting his body, he threw his arm behind her shoulders, pulling her snuggly against his chest as he worked her, murmuring words of praise into her ear.

“You’re such a good girl, Elain. Look at you, facing your fears with my hand between your thighs.” His lips pressed into her hair, just above her ear. “Fuck my fingers, baby.”

And she did, withering against his hand, desperately looking for the high he was drawing from her. Her hips thrust forward, searching for the friction on her clit. “Az,” she mewled.

His thumb gently pressed down on where she needed it, but he didn’t give her what her body so desperately craved. “Easy, baby. Take it slow.” He drew small, tight circles on her clit, sending bolts of pleasure cascading through her.

She felt it in her fingers, her toes, running up and down her spine.

Lost in her thoughts, in the pleasure she was receiving, Elain stopped thinking about the movement of the Ferris wheel until Azriel breathed, “Open your eyes.”

Somehow, she cracked open one eye and then the other and looked out at the expansive, glittering, blue ocean. Her breath came out in short pants, but she couldn’t deny the beauty of the sight before her.

“Look at you, at the top without a care in the world.” Azriel peppered kisses to her head, and her cheek, twisting her face to meet her lips with his. “My beautiful, strong, sexy girl.”

Her head tipped back against the crook of his elbow. “Az, please.”

He hushed her, curling the finger inside of her. “Soon, baby.” He waited until they started to move again before he really started working her, stroking her so deep that his ridged fingertip grazed the smooth patch of skin that had her moaning. His thumb focused on grazing her clit, adding a delicious amount of friction that finally sent her hurtling over the edge.

Fusing their mouths, Azriel swallowed her cries, helping to cover up the fact that she was orgasming in public and making it seem like they were just making out.

Elain was panting when they reached the bottom and blinked dazed eyes open just as he pulled his finger from her twitching pussy, using his hand to clean her up as best as he could, and then proceeded to suck his digits clean.

“You are filthy, sir,” she managed to get out.

He just smiled greedily down at her. “It’s not my fault I crave you every goddamn minute of the day.” He nodded his head towards the ocean in front of them. “And look. You’re riding now without a hint of fear.”

It was true, she realized, as the Ferris wheel made its second trip around. She had no qualms about looking out or being high in the air. “Sneaky trick,” Elain muttered, pulling her leg from off his lap. “But I am going to need to find a bathroom when we’re finished to clean up.”

A heated look glazed over his darkened eyes. “I could get down on my knees and clean you up with my tongue if you want me to.”

It wasn’t a question and fuck her if she wasn’t tempted to say yes. But they were already at the top and coming back down and knew they wouldn’t have the time. Plus, his head between her legs was more obvious than his hand. “Down, boy. You’re going to get us caught.”

The expression on his face told her he didn’t give a shit about getting caught. Azriel thought she would be the death of him, but boy was he wrong. He would one day kill her with those heated looks and sinful smiles.

“Give me your panties.”

Her face heated. “What?” she squeaked.

He raised a brow imploring her to listen to him.

The fact that she couldn’t say no to him should’ve concerned her, but it only made her ache for him even more. Shakily, she grabbed the hem of her underwear and tugged them off, handing them to him.

Azriel balled the fabric, working quickly to wipe at her center, cleaning her up, and stuffed the garment into his pocket.

She stared at him. “You expect me to go commando?”

He shrugged. “Looks like you have no choice at this point.”

“My skirt is flowy!” she hissed. “Any gust of wind and I will flash everybody!”

“Guess you shouldn’t have worn a skirt—”

“You picked this outfit out…” Realization dawned on her. “You fucker, you planned this!”

“Such language,” he mused. “I should put you over my knee for that.”

Heat rushed between her thighs at the thought and Elain crossed her legs.

That wicked grin spread onto his lips, noticing how his words affected her. “Interesting…”

The look on his face promised sinful delight, something they could not explore with their current predicament. “Let’s get lunch after this,” she said instead, deterring the subject to somewhere safe lest she let him do something incredibly reckless. Moreso than what he just did to her.

He definitely saw the change of direction and let her have it. For the most part. “Perfect,” he purred sounding more like his brother than himself. “I just had the most delicious appetizer.”

Blood rushed to her cheeks, but she couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up from her chest. “You’re truly wicked, you know that?”

“Very much so, baby,” he grinned.

Oh boy, was she in a lot of trouble with this one.

They were sitting at a café along the edge of the ocean. Getting off the pier had been challenging as the wind whipped around them. Elain ended up gripping her skirt in two handfuls and pinning it against her legs. Azriel, the bastard, smirked the whole way back to the motorcycle but took pity on her when she awkwardly tried to climb onto the back of the bike, helping her tuck her skirts under her legs so it wouldn’t blow. Despite how much he was clearly enjoying this, she knew that Az was very territorial when it came to her and would absolutely not be okay with anyone seeing her naked.

They gorged themselves on seafood, Elain ordering a shrimp scampi and Azriel a seafood medley. They were each nursing a glass of white wine when they heard his name being called.

“Azriel!”

Twisting around, they saw a couple walking towards them. Both the man and woman were stunning, with rich skin tones and strong builds. But what was most striking was their bleached hair color that looked too natural to be dyed. She assumed it was a genetic thing that they both must’ve shared, meaning they likely were related.

Upon closer inspection, Elain noticed that they had similar features that confirmed there was some distant family resemblance. The man, however, had startling turquoise eyes while she had deep brown ones.

“Tarquin,” Azriel greeted, rising out of his seat to shake hands with the man. “Cresseida, it’s nice to see you again.”

Tarquin…the name was familiar… And then it hit her. This was the man whom Azriel had spoken so fondly of. Whom he partnered with for his business.

Her boyfriend indicated to her. “Please let me introduce you to my girlfriend, Doctor Elain Archeron.” She reined in her smile at the whole doctor thing. He really was insatiable. “Elain, this is Tarquin, the owner of Summer Systems, and his cousin who does all the actual work at the company, Cresseida.”

Ah, so she had been right about the family resemblance then.

Tarquin seemed to catch his astonishment at the girlfriend introduction, schooling his features to shake her outstretched hand. “It’s lovely to meet you,” she said. “I’ve heard a lot about you and your company.”

“Funny,” Cresseida said, her tone of voice a bit sharp. “We had no idea that Azriel had a girlfriend. Or that he was even in a relationship.”

Elain saw it for what it was. A test to see how well she could handle the hostility and function in a role at Azriel’s side. “Yes, well he’s very private. And not one to gloat.”

A snort cut through the tension and her eyes shifted to the man in question, seeing the utter delight in her hazel irises.

“I like her,” Cresseida announced, surprising even her.

Tarquin shook his head at his cousin’s antics. “Since you’re in town, you two should come to the company party tonight. We’re doing a celebration over our partnership. Something I wanted to give the employees for their hard work in getting everything finalized.”

She saw the refute on Azriel’s face, knowing he had told her this was a vacation and not for work.

“I appreciate the offer,” he began, but Elain interrupted him.

“We’ll consider it.”

All three of them looked at her, surprise clear in the raise of Az’s eyebrows.

“Well,” Tarquin began, amused by her outspokenness. “I hope to see you both there. Azriel, I’ll forward you the invite so you have the details.” Clasping hands with her boyfriend, the cousins bid them goodbye.

Once they were alone, Azriel asked her, “I thought we said no work on this trip?”

She shrugged a single shoulder, taking a sip of her wine. “We did, but I thought maybe it could be fun.”

His phone dinged with an incoming message. Glancing down at it, he read the text out loud. “It’s semi-formal.” Meeting her gaze, he smiled. “Looks like we need to go shopping.”

~~~~~

Azriel was pinning his cuff links when Elain stepped out of the closet in the most alluring dress he had ever seen her wear. It wasn’t just the sexy cuts exposing the middle of her torso from the crisscross front, nor the open back and the high slit hitting just below her hipbone. It was the various shades of blue, the most prominent of them being cobalt, his absolute favorite color, despite being partial to wearing black.

She gave him a shy smile. “Can you zip me up?”

The crossed straps zipped between her shoulder blades, and then a second zipper ran from below her ass to just past the swell. The cuts of the dress allowed the cute dimple of her back to show.

Gripping one zipper, he tugged it up and then the second. “You look stunning,” he murmured, kissing the backside of her head.

“Thank you, handsome,” she answered cheekily.

Gods he wanted nothing more than to slowly peel her out of that dress, but he loved seeing her in it too. Shrugging on his suit jacket, he took Elain’s hand, and out they went.

The party was gorgeous, hosted at a restaurant with a large patio area that had been rented for the evening. Twinkly lights were strung across, giving a romantic glow to the air. Dinner consisted of three types of fish, potatoes, and a green salad. It was one of the best dishes he had ever tasted.

Now, he and Elain were slow dancing with a few other couples, her hand in his, head tucked into his chest.

Her fingers stroked the hair at his nape.

“I love you, Azriel,” she whispered, almost as if she was afraid to break the trance that fell over them.

He looked down at her, surprised by the sudden declaration. “I love you too, Elain.” Unable to help himself, he leaned his head down to kiss the top of her head. Even with the heels, she was still several inches shorter than him, the top of her head only coming up to his jaw.

She hummed in contentment, melting further into his embrace.

They danced for a while longer before he asked her if she was ready to leave. He could see the exhaustion that lined her eyes, even if she tried to hide it from him. They made their way over to Tarquin to bid him goodbye.

“I’m glad you two could come. You’re more than welcome to join us or visit anytime.”

Azriel smiled, glancing down at the woman tucked under his arm. “Well, you might just see us more. We’re buying a house here. A summer home for us to vacation at. And to stay when I’m on business.”

Pure delight lit those bright, turquoise eyes. “That’s fantastic! Congratulations to you both. It’s been a pleasure to welcome you into our partnership and get to know you. Both of you.”

“It was great to meet you, as well, Tarquin,” Elain murmured from her sleepy state.

The other man gave him a knowing look. “I’ll let you go so you can get her home. Let me know the next time you visit. I’ll host something at my house.”

“Thanks, Tarquin,” Azriel answered, shaking the man’s hand.

He managed to get Elain into the car, but as soon as it started moving, her eyes drifted shut and she slept the whole way home. Az looked at her peaceful, sleeping form, and thought that he couldn’t wait to ask her to be his wife.

~~~~~

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[7-deadly-simpin]

Could I get the brothers reactions to if mc fought a noble, just a demon that's pretty close to their rank? How would they go about getting mc away from them and then reprimanding the demon?

Yes, of course! I wasn't sure if you wanted them as a group or to each their own, so I gave them each a spotlight. Enjoy! (Also may have gone a little overboard with Satan...oop)

Demon Brothers React to MC Fighting a Noble-Status Demon

Lucifer

Absolutely livid.

A little surprised that you had the gaul to scream at another demon of that rank.

Mc...seriously?

Why would you EVER put yourself in such a position?

Remember how he & his brothers have tried to kill you before???

Belphie SUCCEEDED

Doesn’t care what the fight is about, he holds you to much higher standards.

Will get in between you both in an instant and transform.

You are LUCKY only words had been exchanged at that point.

If you had been hurt, even he is not sure what he would have done.

Gives you a glare that shakes you to your very core, but not as bad as the demon who even DARED to lay a hand on you.

Demon receives a lecture that could probably bore him to death, but they aren’t that lucky.

Don’t get it twisted, the demon will be tortured, but it happens while Lucifer paces back and forth telling them absolutely everything they did wrong.

The eldest is too prideful to allow some demon to hurt MC, regardless of who they think they are.

Mammon

This demon surprisingly likes to avoid confrontation as much as possible.

(seriously, how often do we actually see him in demon form other than events at the Demon Lord’s Castle?)

He’s also a bit curious as to WHY you would raise your voice at a demon of that status?

Sure you yell at him and his brothers here and there, but to be fair, even Mammon knows they all mess up sometimes.

Ripped awake from his thought the literal second he sees this ‘hoity toity’ demon try and hit you.

He wants to destroy the demon, he really does, but MC is top priority.

Being the fastest of his brothers, except Lucifer, he whisks MC away before the demon can even finish blinking.

His mind is racing a mile a minute and he accidently yells “ARE YOU FUCKING DEAD?!” instead of “Are you okay?” or telling the noble demon “You’re dead!”

He doesn’t care about anything other than your safety and will fly to the House of Lamentation immediately.

Very protective over MC and refuses to let the other brothers touch them.

If anyone is mad, he will take full blame for the situation. He doesn’t care, you being safe is all that matters to him.

Levi

Is more shocked than anything that you’re standing up to a demon of equivalent reputation to him.

Becomes visibly distressed when you try and HIT that same demon.

Are you INSANE?! I mean, maybe a little since you seem to handle him and his brothers no problem, but…this was a completely different circumstance.

That demon had no obligation to protect you, let alone let you live.

The high status demon growls low and Levi knows it's only a matter of time before this demon tears you to shreds.

Levi musters up all his courage, you better appreciate this, to talk down this normie demon from hurting you.

The demon chuckles in his face. Oh…

And then the demon grabs you by your neck. You struggle, but quickly stop as something more frightening catches your attention.

Levi, standing in demon form who in the scuffle SUMMONED LOTAN.

Has Lotan deal with the disrespectful demon while he grabs you and rushes you to safety.

Could care less if he gets in trouble right now, he just saved his best friend, his Henry.

Satan

You just bitch slapped a demon with the same status as him and his brothers!

Not that he’s surprised, you’ve had to knock some sense into each of them from time to time.

IMPRESSED AS HELL though, might be slightly turned on.

Becomes immediately aggravated when he sees the demon retaliate. You fall to the floor and Satan is on the brink of losing it.

He plans to have words with the degenerate...but then you turn to him. Blood trickling down your head.

This man cannot, and WILL NOT contain his anger any longer. MC is hurt and Satan is going to make the demon wish they were dead.

MC basically has to group video call everyone for help because Satan is in a full on brawl with this demon.

You’ve never heard such demonic growls and snarls in your life, it actually scares you.

There is a circle around them chanting “fight, fight, fight!”

The brothers rush over. Belphie and Mammon are on crowd control.  Asmo and Levi are making sure you’re okay. Meanwhile Lucifer and Beel are holding back Satan from throwing another punch.

The thing is, they understand his anger. They aren’t all that upset with him. Just worried about you both.

Lucifer and Mammon will have to straighten things out. Mammon isn't the best with his words but he loves his brothers and will do what he has to in order to see that Satan receives a very mild punishment at best.

Asmo

Initially upset because he thought the high rank demon was trying to hit on you.

If anyone was going to hit on MC and succeed, surely it would be the marvelous Asmodeus.

A quick scan over of body language and he knows his initial hypothesis was dead wrong.

This demon looks aggravated and has their hands balled up into a fist.

Queue the most disgusted yelp you have ever heard leave Asmos lips.

Who in the Devildom does this demon think they are?!

Don’t you dare even look at Asmos precious MC the wrong way!

Struts his beautiful self next to you. If he can’t stop you from fighting, he will be the baddest B back up.

The only one to place an arm around your shoulder to try and bring you back to reality as he talks down to the pathetic demon who even had a thought of injuring you.

Sees you return to your senses and look grateful for him stepping in before things get worse. Living with a bunch of demons on the daily can make a human feel more powerful than they are after all.

He will use his charm on the demon to get them to forget they were even upset with you.

Makes sure to take you back home and ask if you’d like a face mask or any relaxing bath bombs.

Beel

He isn’t quite sure what happened, but Beel can clearly see you are beyond frustrated with the demon in front of you.

He knows MC can be feisty with him and his brothers, he doesn’t mind, you’re family after all.

But this was some strong demon you decided to pick a fight with.

He notices the Demon losing its patience as well. He needs to get you out and fast.

He won’t let his family get hurt ever again, he WILL NOT let what happened to Lilith happen to you.

Now, Beel is normally pretty self conscious about his size, he doesn’t like looking as intimidating as he does...but you’re in trouble, he will use everything he can to his advantage to keep you safe.

Quickly places himself in front of MC and tries to speak to the demon.

The demon was so focused on you, it wasn’t until they PUNCHED Beel that they realized what happened.

Beel doesn’t care, he barely felt it. For a high rank demon, he sure is weak by comparison.

However, Beel is VERY aware that punch was meant for you. He will not let this go unpunished.

The demon looks up at Beel who easily towers over them and begins to slowly back away, apologizing profusely.

Beel contacts his brothers in front of the now frightened Demon. He doesn’t mind them handling it, he’s focused on making sure you aren’t shaken up.

Plus that weak punch really just made him hungry.

Belphie

He fell asleep in class….again.

Which MC should be really thankful for this time.

He wakes up to the scene of you slapping away the hand of a reputable demon.

Unsure of what is going on, but already on alert Belphie watching from afar, to see how the situation plays out.

Belphie is good at reading body language, and notices MCs' small huff and how they hold themselves when the demon talks down to them.

Seeing you clearly uncomfortable, he makes his way over to you.

No one should ever make you feel anything like that, especially not some random demon.

Belphie will slouch on you and pretend the demon is of no importance. He doesn’t give a damn about status.

Interrupting the demon may have not been the best choice of action as they become agitated at the new annoyance in front of them.

Belphie turns with his signature glare and suddenly the demon recognizes the youngest of the brothers.

A demon of his status is aware of Belphie and his feelings towards any authority figure.

Any demon crazy enough to want to go toe to toe with the future demon king is too much of a hassle to deal with anyways.

Also, what kind of crazed demon would try and mess with the baby of an entire family of powerful demons?

You both end up back at the House of Lamentation and Belphie expects head pats for his rescue.

[bokutosworld]

perfect match | miya osamu

a/n: i am so thrilled that haikyuu is back!!! can’t wait to see more of inarizaki and (excuse my bias) osamu!!!! <3 so here’s a very self-indulgent piece in celebration of their comeback haha 

pairing: miya osamu x f!reader

wc: 2.6k words of fluff and bit of angst if you squint lmfao.  

summary: in which you and osamu go in circles, walking the fine line between keeping the friendship or taking the leap in your relationship. inspired by the prompts: “It’s you, it’s always been you.”  + “Are you really gonna leave without asking me the question you’ve been dying to ask me?”

--

'for the last time, i am telling you oyakodon cannot be better than katsudon. nothing beats a good crisp, deep-fried pork or chicken over a steaming bowl of rice,' you said, putting your lunch tray on the table with a thud and settling on the bench.

'yeah, sure. but they're basically the same thing,' he slips in the space next to you, placing his food and getting his chopsticks ready. 'they're both donburi meals, only difference is how they're prepared. what matters is they're both delicious.'

taking a spoonful of your meal, you chew fast before deciding to answer back, 'i know that.' you pause to catch your breath, earning a worried glance from osamu as if he telling you to eat slowly. 'but katsudon just ranks superior. end of discussion.'

the both of you, cooped up in your own conversation, were oblivious to the stares and smirks of your friends in the table. atsumu, deciding to be the braver among the peers, cuts through the silence. 'you know, we could hear you bickering from the queue all the way here,' a hint of tease evident in his voice and osamu smacks his twin.

suna perks up, joining the conversation, 'that's like the third discourse they had today, man. and it's only lunchtime.' the rest of the group laughs and shakes their head, as atsumu adds, 'will there ever be a day where we enjoy some peace and the two of you just quietly get along?'

you share a look with osamu who simply shrugs and continues to chomp down (albeit rather cutely) his food. your friends weren't wrong but it's not like you and the boy hated each other's guts. your close friendship with him was comfortable, so much so that the two of you would talk and argue literally about anything. but as always, there were no hard feelings in those moments of disagreements.

it's just the way it has been since the day you met the twins in middle school. they were both kind and took care of you like their little sister. but somehow, you found yourself growing more attached with the quieter twin. there was something about conversing with osamu that made you feel like you can open up to him about anything. he was smart, a good listener, a natural conversationalist that he always had something ready to answer to your quips. he would always indulge whatever topic you brought up and challenge your ideas and beliefs - the latest one being the katsudon versus oyakodon dispute.

you notice the piece of rice stuck in the corner of osamu's mouth, and you were just about to wipe it off when hikari calls out your name. your hand falls limp on your side and you turn to her, 'what's up?'

'are you free this weekend? i was supposed to set up my cousin on a blind date with my co-worker but she just informed me that she can't go. they have exams this week. so,' she purposely dragged on her words, weighing if would consider being the substitute. raising an eyebrow at her, you completed the sentence for her, 'so, you want me to go on the blind date?'

she beamed, clasping her hands together as if she was reciting a prayer. 'please! i will owe you my life, this is a one time thing, i swear! i made him a promise. you know how i hate breaking promises.'

osamu took note of the way you sighed and how your shoulders slumped at your friend's request. you were never one to say no, you always found it difficult with your kind-hearted nature. so it wasn't a surprise to him when you turned and asked, 'we don't have anything planned for this weekend, right?'

truthfully, osamu wanted to say that you did have some sort of hangout planned. he didn't know why he was finding it hard to say no right now, so he was relieved when his brother spoke. 'you should be free, y/n,' swinging his arm around his twin's shoulders, atsumu looked at him and smirked. 'besides, we have a practice match this weekend. we wouldn't be able to do the usual hangout 'til after 6pm.'

this made you exclaim, 'great! you can give that guy my number then!' hikari proceeded to tell you the details - it was happening on saturday. she already arranged for the meetup time and place to be 10 am at the subway station near the park.

as hikari continued to talk to you about your date, osamu couldn't help but listen in on the conversation and take note of the details. he didn't miss the way your eyes lit up at the mention of your date's name - taichi - to which you remarked that it was 'a handsome name.' osamu rolled his eyes at that. lost in his own thoughts and conflicted feelings about your blind date, he wasn't able to control his facial reactions anymore - a slight look of envy and disappointment ghosting over his features and atsumu was enjoying every bit of it.

weekend arrived and to say that you were excited for the blind date was an understatement. you were looking forward to it, the evidence seen in the way you have prepared your outfit (with the help of osamu who you video called last night). as your closest friend, osamu tried his best to be thrilled and happy for you. he knew you have been wanting to experience a first date for a while now. but a feeling was gnawing at him, a feeling that wishes it was him who was taking you out on that weekend. nonetheless, he gave you a pep talk and reminded you to just have fun and be yourself.

so here you are now, standing in the middle of the station and waiting for your date. it wasn't as crowded as you thought it would be so you kept an eye out for taichi. he texted you just before you left, informing that he would be wearing a denim jeans and black jacket. keeping your eyes peeled for a person who fit that description, you see a shadow of a person jogging across the station and a voice calls out your name.

'y/n!!!!' you spot taichi running over to you, he crouches to try to catch his breath when he reaches you. when he's calmed down, he immediately apologizes, 'i am so sorry. have you been waiting long?' you assure him that it's fine and after a few minutes of back-and-forths of apologies and assurances, you two go on your way to your first stop: brunch.

taichi was indeed as handsome as his name initially suggests. he's got a boyish charm to him, and it would be a lie to say he wasn't drawing you in. all throughout the brunch, he proved to be someone who can keep a conversation with you. it was one of your worries that your date would find you boring, but osamu told you would do fine. thankfully, taichi could hold his ground with you, very much like your best friend who can immediately answer your witty quips with his own humorous comebacks. in your mind, the two boys were very much like and you couldn't wait to tell this to osamu.

after eating, he brought you to an aquarium. your genuine excitement made taichi smile as he shared that it was worth an effort asking hikari what you wanted if he could see you exude so much happiness. you made a face and hit him, 'i didn't know you were cheesy. thank you.' he then led you two inside and spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around the huge aquarium, in awe of the different fishes and feeling if you were lost in the underwater.

but all good things come to an end. by the time your date ended, it was already 6:33 pm. though it was still early, you had a curfew of 8 pm and taichi offered to accompany you home.

dropping you off at the front gate, he looked at you, hopeful, 'i had a really fun time today. hikari did great by setting me and you up together.' you laughed at this, admitting you've almost forgotten that this was a blind date, 'it's like i've known you forever!' despite the surroundings being dark already, you didn't miss the movement of a shadow just a few blocks away. you had a hunch as to what or who it was, and you couldn't wait to expose them.

'well, i don't want to keep you out any longer,' taichi began saying his goodbye. 'i'll text you when i get home. we should do this again.' your attention was brought back to the boy in front of you and you chuckled, 'don't be a stranger! just text or call me anytime, okay?' taichi began walking back to the main street, and he waved as you shouted your last farewell, 'be careful on the way home.'

when he finally turned to the street, you cleared your throat and called, 'you can come out of your hiding spot now, dumbass.' the person you were referring to sheepishly moved where the light can cast over him, revealing, 'osamu.' he could see the way your eyes glinted with a hint of mischief and he knew he wouldn't be able to escape your interrogation.

you ran up to him and tackled him, poking his sides which made him fall into a fit of laughter. he took your hands to make you stop, 'stop that.'

'how long have you been hiding out there,' you ask osamu. it wasn't impossible to miss the tinge of blush on his cheeks, your question obviously caught him off guard. 'well, osamu? are you gonna answer me or are you just going to keep staring into space?' you wave your hands in front of him, but he quickly gets hold of them and laces his fingers with yours. it was a usual gesture between the two of you, but right now, why did it feel so intimate?

after moments of silence, he speaks up, 'did you have fun on your date?' his eyes boring right into your soul and you swore your heart started beating faster. for some reason, you couldn't answer right away, your voice somehow betraying you at that moment. 'it.. it was nice.'

osamu continued to stare intently, waiting for you to finish. so you went on, 'they're a good person. he's very funny, you'd like him too, you know! he surprised me by taking me to the aquarium,' at this point, you were rambling just to avoid the awkward silence. 'it was so big, osamu! you'd like it there too. and then -'

'will you take me there with you?' now your heart was threatening to beat out of the chest. osamu was rarely serious with you, and right now, you could feel that he wants to say more but he's restraining himself.

you already had an idea of what he was trying to say. the butterflies in your stomach was starting to go wild at the thought. but you wanted to hear it from your best friend himself, so you feigned ignorance, 'what do you mean, osamu?'

the grip on your hands tightens and he pulls you a little closer to him. osamu wants to say that he wishes it was him who saw your smile in the aquarium, who you talked with nonstop in the cafe, who you exchanged stories and laughter with throughout the day. he wants to say that it should have been him who took you out on your first date. all these emotions and words were too much for him, so he takes a deep breath and rests his head on your shoulders instead. perplexed at his actions, you immediately wrap your arms around his waist. 'osamu? are you okay?'

'yeah, let me just stay like this for few minutes.' he buries himself deeper in the crook of your neck, getting lost in your familiar, comforting scent. he knows why he was acting like this and he was screwed. he loves you, but he doesn't want to risk ruining the friendship you have built. after a while, he stands up straight, shooting you his signature smile and ruffles your hair.

'thanks, i was just really tired from the practice match. i guess i missed our number one cheerleader.' he steps away and begins to walk home, but he doesn't get too far when you shout, 'are you really gonna leave without asking me the question you've been dying to ask me?'

he stops in his tracks. this time, you close the distance and he feels your presence behind him. 'come on, osamu. no secrets, right?' at this, his resolve breaks and a dam opens, his unrequited feelings for you finally flowing out in the open. osamu turns around and engulfs you in a warm embrace, and you just know.

'if you wanted to ask me out, you could have just asked me you know,' you tease him. flustered at you what just said, he looks at quizzically, 'how...'

'you're not very subtle, osamu. and the stunt you just pulled tonight basically confirmed you like me too,' you hope he caught your words at the end. because honestly, while being best friends with him has been the best thing to happen in your life. you've always wondered what it feels like to take the next step in your relationship with him.

it takes him a while to register your remarks and when the realization sets, he finally asks, 'since when?' the question was vague, but you knew what he was referring to if the hopeful look in his eyes was anything to go by. so you take a courageous leap, finally crossing that bridge to move to something more. you caress his cheeks, osamu leaning close to the warmth of your hands, 'it's you, osamu. it's always been you.'

he finally closes the gap, bringing your body to his in a tight hug, as if he was afraid to let you go. you stay like that for a few minutes, the passersby cooing at the 'lovely couple' on the street. he pulls away for a quick second, then all of a sudden, he was leaning in. your eyes instinctively shut, waiting for that sensation on your lips, but instead you feel him press a tender kiss on your forehead. he was always a man of few words and through his actions, you know that everything will never be the same again, but it was the kind of change that you have always hoped for.

so when you two go to school the following week, holding hands and finally not bickering in the morning, everyone in your friend group was dumbfounded. again, his twin was the only one brave enough to point out the difference, 'took you guys long enough. congrats, osamu! i knew you had it in you!'

hikari wanted to ask you about taichi, but after the date, the boy has already his expressed gratitude and shared how he felt that your thoughts were occupied by someone. and certainly, looking at you and osamu now - sitting by each other's side in peace and in your own love bubble - it seemed that you have already found your perfect match.

[kim-ruzek]

#28 “What’s the matter” for the love prompt list✨💖💖💖

28. “What’s the matter?”

It took me so long to think of something for this. All my ideas were really angsty and my drabbles are fluff only, and then this occured to me and I cannot believe it took me this long to think of it!!!

Technically this is set in an au of s7 where Kim didn't miscarry, but their relationship status is never explicitly mentioned so take it however you'd like!!! I'm not too happy with how I ended it, but I hope you enjoy!!!

“Hey, Kim. I’m back, there was a line in the restaurant.” Adam calls to her as he opens up the apartment door, pizza in hand as he does so. He had been quite annoyed when he saw the queue; it had been a long day at work, and all Adam wanted to do was kick up his feet and rest.

Ordinarily, he would’ve just gone somewhere else, but that’s no longer an option anymore. Not with sixteen weeks pregnant Kim, who has very specific likes and dislikes, and cravings. And today she wanted pizza, and not any old pizza—pizza specifically from that restaurant.

As soon as he entered, he had expected to hear Kim’s hormonal and hungry annoyance at him being gone so long, or her joy, and being immediately greeted by her being in front of him, grabbing at the food. It’s a regular occurrence; the baby meaning that when she’s hungry, she’s hungry.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he’s greeted by her wails.

Immediately, he goes into protective mode. Kim’s sitting on the couch, hugging a pillow, sobbing. By the wetness of her face, and the way it’s slightly reddened, Adam would say that she’s been crying for a while. Her sobs makes his heart throb, and he quickly discards the pizza on the table, rushing to her side.

“Hey, hey, hey,” He says softly, sitting down next to her and gently touching her shoulder to let her know he’s here. “What’s the matter?”

Kim looks tearfully at him, his heart twisting in agony. All he wants to do is comfort her, wipe away her tears, make her laugh, make her feel safe.

“Th-the woman lost her husband! And she was so lonely and her grandson was so busy,” she wails at him. “But then-en he came to visit and brought her a puppy so that she’s ne, uh, ver alone again.”

Adam blinks, taking a few seconds before his mind processes what on earth she’s on about.

“Kim. Darling. I thought we banned you from watching commercials.” He says calmly. Kim’s hormones are all over the place, and has a much more easily triggered emotional response to things, and so, after she cried at way too many commercials, they had decided it’s best not to tempt it.

“I know! But you were gone so long, and I got bored!” Kim wails harder. Adam immediately hugs her in response, shushing.

“Yeah I was, it’s alright.” He soothes her, stroking her back. “It’s alright.”

It takes a few minutes, but he manages to calm her down. After ten weeks of this, Adam’s gotten really good at it. Kim smiles at him, laughing slightly at herself.

“I’m sorry, I’m ridiculous.” She says. Adam’s about to reassure her, but then she sniffs, her demeanour suddenly changing. “Hm. Food. Let’s eat.”

Kim immediately rises then, heading straight towards where he left the food. Adam shakes his head, amused once more at her ever changing mood and focus.

[cosmiclatte28]

Nakamoto Yuta Day! (Prince!Yuta x reader)

Before everything else, Happy birthday to my favorite Prince, Osaka Prince Nakamoto Yuta!! 🎉🎉🎉

Here we go, a quick imagine with PRINCE! Yuta

You tidy up your look in front of the tall mirror in the maid room. It's almost eight, and the young prince will be waking up real soon. You need to look decent in this kingdom, even if you are only a maid in this big castle. "So, it's a big day huh?" Winwin, the young prince's private guard stands beside you and waits for you to go with him and wake the prince. You nod your head and tie a final bow to the uniform you are wearing, "Yeah I cannot believe it Prince Yuta is turning 26 already!" Yuta, the young prince of Osaka is turning 26 this year and the castle is holding a banquet for the town people. It is the young prince's own request to always make a feast for the citizen and not want a big expensive parties for the royal people only, he is known for his kind heart and that is not a lie. "Come on! He wouldn't want you to be late in greeting him." Winwin pulls you to exit the room. The cart filled with cake was prepared already and you look at Winwin in surprise. "I asked Kun gege to sneak me out a cake! Where's the fun if we surprise him without a cake!" Winwin places your hands on the cart and pushes your shoulder lightly. "If you want to be the first to say Happy Birthday, we need to rush now." Winwin rolls his eyes and takes larger steps in front of you.

You shake your head as you push the nicely decorated cake. Winwin sure prepared a lot! You are not surprised though, for the three of you are practically siblings already. You are the assigned maid to care for him, and Winwin has been his personal guard since Yuta was eleven. The three of you spent most of your times together, not to mention how lucky the three of you share a sequence of birthday. Yes today is Yuta's birthday and tomorrow is yours and the day after is Winwin's. Guess the three of you are fated to be together. Winwin waits for you to reach the big bedroom. He plants his ear to the door and hears no sound. He nods at you and you get the queue to knock. Quickly you knock at his door and when he did not open it for you two, the two of you break into the room. You and Winwin sing happy birthday together for the now surprised and awaken prince. Yuta hides under his blanket, feeling shy that you two seen him unready yet. Usually Yuta is already fresh in his bathrobe, but maybe he wants to relax a bit. "Hey no need to hide!" Winwin forcefully grabs the blanket and Yuta is smiling ear to ear seeing the lit candles and the nice cake you are holding. "Make a wish handsome! The candles are melting." you chuckle when he closes his eyes and seriously makes his wish. Winwin claps his hands after Yuta blows the candle off and you hand him the cake. "Cut the cake!!" you excitedly hand him the knife. Yuta grins, "What? Excited for the cake aren't you?" he teases you. "As a matter of fact, yes... but hey who doesn't want cakes?!" you sassily reply and the two men laugh at your quirky remark. "Okay okay calm down. I'm cutting this now" he bites his lips as he makes a nice clean cut on the soft cake. Winwin takes over the cake and places it back on the tray. No one wants to clean up if the cake fell to the bed. "Yay! Happy birthday prince," you lean in and hugs Yuta, he squishes you back and whispers a really grateful thank you. Winwin is the second man to tell him happy birthday. "You know, I'm always grateful to have the two of you. Now let me get dressed and greet the castle. Oh and the two of you are off duty today." He calmly tightens his bath robe Winwin tossed to him. Yuta stands up in his black silk robe with gold dragon embroideries and you feel so small beside him. His strong wide shoulder looks strong and reliable, he really did change into a prince charming. You and WInwin squeal but look puzzled, "Off duty? I need to make sure you're safe Yuta." Winwin scoffs. The whole town will be here, the place will be crowded, how can he slack off if he needs to make sure no one is killing or poisoning the prince? Yuta steps into his bathroom, and pauses "Oh worry not, you two will be by my side not to work. I have asked someone else to keep an eye on me. We have Mark for your duty (y/n), and Lucas will replace your responsibility today WInwin." The two of you cannot hide the big smile on your faces and Yuta caught that look. He smiled to himself and enters his bathroom. After all that is the least he can do right to give his best friends a nice gift, although it is his birthday today. "Prince Yuta, you really are the best! See you downstairs!" You knock on the bathroom door to get his attention and shouted your goodbye. "Yes, enjoy the day off friends. Celebrate my birthday today with me and enjoy your day off." Winwin and you high five each other and after cleaning up the room, you and Winwin return to your respectful places. Well, you will still help the preparation. You will start the day off when the banquet started. The young prince is loved by everyone, not for his handsome looks only, but because his heart is as pure as gold and his smile? His smile heals pain.

end 💖

Happy Birthday Osaka Prince, Yuta Nakamoto!!! The healing smile angel and everyone’s oppa!! (❤ ω ❤)

and #goodlucksoldierchen! I mean Chen is enlisting too today and I hope he will serve well and come back safe 💖

[mediocre--writing]

okay i have to know how will and billy end up bonding please tell me

ooooooh a favorite of mine

i like the idea of them kinda getting to know each other after billy is possessed

(PS: the byers don’t move away)

but will spends a lot of time with billy in the hospital because he completely understands how it feels to have your body completely violated

and billy is stubborn as hell. we all know this. it’s not new information

but will has a soft spot for people who need help, no matter their past

and maybe nothing really changes between the two because billy won’t budge and refuses to be friends with a kid (he’s not going to be like harrington, he refuses)

but the kids are leeches. they don’t let go of him no matter how much he wants them to leave him the hell alone

so the next summer, billy’s working at the pool— part time because he needs the cash. but he cannot stand how annoying the kids there are. they always run and splash and all this stupid shit and they won’t listen, ever

the party comes in one afternoon, max included, and they’re pretty civil for the most part

until some brute comes speeding around the pool and slams directly into will, who goes tumbling straight to the concrete

billy blows his whistle and screams at the kid a bit, instantly going over to will and doing his regular injury procedure: checks for consciousness, checks for injuries, etc., etc

wills conscious, but he slammed his head on a lounge chair on the way down and skinned his palms and one of his elbows is bowed out at a weird angle

billy is trying to be gentle as he gets will to focus on him, rather than the pain or the crowd of people swarming them, because this kid seems to get stressed out very, very quickly

he gets will to walk to the pool office, mike and el following after them while the other three are packing their stuff up

billy is making will sit down and gets him to hold an ice pack to his head while billy looks at the other arm, which is already bruising around the joint

billy calls for one of the off-duty lifeguards in the office to call the emergency room, and that billy was gonna drive him to the hospital

“kid, can you stand up with me?”

will nodded and billy turned to the other two kids, “i can’t fit all of you in the car, and someone needs to pick you guys up, so...”

mike volunteers himself to go with billy and will and el elects herself to tell the others what’s going on and to call wills mom

mike was in the backseat of the camaro and will was cradling his arm in the passenger side, the car going at dangerous speeds towards the hospital

after the insanity that was will getting assessed and then making the not-so-shocking announcement that they were going to have to reset his arm in place, mike was dismissed to the waiting room and billy was gonna stay with will

when the doctor came to reset wills arm, the younger boy was shaking in fear and billy took that as a queue to scoot closer and wrap an arm around his torso, allowing will to lean back into him and stuff his face into billy’s shoulder when the finally popped his elbow back into place

“hey, kid, it’s alright, it’s gonna hurt but just for a second, i promise, just relax,”

billy’s words give himself a jolt of remembrance and he reminds himself that he’s trying to calm will so he can fix his arm, not offering sacrifice to a otherworldly demon

after it was done,will wouldn’t move for a few minutes, but billy was carefully listening to the instructions the doctor was giving and how will would need to wear a sling, just to ensure that the joint would heal properly

after the doctor left, billy was brushing wills hair out of his face, asking if he was alright and if it still hurt too bad, to which he got a shake of the head and will nuzzling into his shoulder more

it made billy reminisce the time when his dad had thrown him into the wall so hard, he had to have his shoulder reset and how alone he felt in that hospital room

he made sure not to move too much as will stopped shaking and they got the sling on before walking to the waiting room, where joyce was frantically talking to a doctor before seeing will and smothering him in affection

since that day, billy refused to let wills out of his sight when he was around, call it instincts, but billy had a feeling that trouble came looking for will far too often, and by the graces of god he wasn’t gonna let this kid suffer any more

[spacebatisluvd]

Summary: Neither Sea Hawk nor Entrapta know how kidnapping works.

Content warning: Sea Hawk (being a complete drama king), Mermista (being rather aggressive), and some light-hearted ‘bondage’ that is not at all sexual.

-

Hordak walked around the base of the structure, studying the completed building. “Which team was responsible for this?” he asked the supervisor trailing behind him.

“Team Four.”

He nodded. “This is excellent work. They should be commended for their efforts.”

The woman froze. “I...what?”

Hordak glanced at her before resuming his inspection. “They have performed well. That should be acknowledged.” He paused, realizing he could be overstepping. “I know I do not have any authority here. Consider it a suggestion.”

“I...I’ll make a note of that,” she said, sounding unsure of herself.

He nodded, finished with his inspection. “What’s the next—?”

”Hey!”

They both turned, watching Mermista stalk toward them. The woman behind him paled immediately and bowed low. “Princess, it is an—“

Mermista ignored her, jabbing a finger at Hordak. “Where is he?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sea Hawk—where. is. he?”

Hordak‘s ears folded back. “I was not aware I was meant to be watching him.”

“Funny.”

He crossed his arms. “That was not—“

Mermista stepped close, and in the distance, the ocean crashed. “Don’t play games with me; just tell me what you did and maybe I’ll go easy on you.”

He cocked his head. “I am not ‘playing games’. You are unable to find him?”

She looked him over. “You really don’t...?” Turning away, she swore under her breath and stormed off. 

“Princess?”

“Forget it,” she snapped, never breaking stride. 

Frowning, he turned toward the other woman. “We will continue this later.”

He started to follow Mermista, but the woman said, “Sir?” He turned, and she stepped toward him, eyeing Mermista with caution. “Be careful. The Princess doesn’t like you very much.”

He huffed. “I am aware.” Her gaze darted from him to Mermista, and he sighed. “Your concern is noted. Carry on without me. I will return later.” She said nothing, and he turned away, catching up to Mermista by walking briskly. “The two of you were meant to leave for Plumeria today.” He and Entrapta were not the only ones Perfuma had invited to her Kingdom. “He seemed excited. I do not think he would wander off.”

She glared at him, trying to walk faster, but his long stride made it easy to keep up. Seeing that this tactic wasn’t working, she tried another. “Why do you care?”

“I do not. Where have you looked for him?”  

“I didn’t ask for your help.”

”I did not offer it. Does he have anyone that would want to harm—?“ He huffed, realizing that was a stupid question. “Who has the most cause to harm him?”

“Shut up! Just—shut up!” She rounded on him, hands balled into fists at her sides. Abruptly, she forced herself out of her pugilistic stance, crossing her arms and looking away. “Whatever. He’s Sea Hawk. He’s probably just...setting a ship on fire or something.”

Hordak’s ears folded back. “Why would he do that?”

She threw up her hands and groaned aloud. “I don’t know—because he’s Sea Hawk. Stop pretending you care! I’m not going to fall for it!”

He cocked his head, ears still back. “What?”

“Drop the act—I know you’re just using him.”

Hordak huffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. Sea Hawk is entirely useless.”

“So you expect me to believe you actually like spending time with him?” Water began to leech from the ground, forming small pools around him. He watched the puddles form, then shifted to regard her more warily. “Maybe you can fool Entrapta, but—“

“What?!”

“I said—maybe you can trick Entrapta into thinking you’re her ‘friend’, but you can’t trick me. And I won’t let you hurt her or Sea Hawk, got it?”

He could hear his hearts hammering in his ears, the sound distractingly loud. Everything seemed to slow down. His hands curled, and his breathing felt tight. The nerves along his scalp prickled, and he couldn’t find the words to deny her—he was just too angry to speak.

For once, he was glad to be weaponless; at the moment, he wouldn’t trust himself with one.

Misunderstanding the source of his anger, Mermista sneered. “Oh, yeah. I know exactly what you’re doing. Geek Princess knows tech, but she doesn’t know people. Someone like you was bound to take advantage of that sooner or later. Is that how you got her to switch sides? Playing with her feelings? Making her think you care about her? People like you don’t care about anyone. You only care about yourself, and how to use other people for your own ends.”

“You know nothing,” he finally managed to snap. His claws bit into his palms, and he flexed his fingers open to keep from hurting himself. A not insignificant part of him longed to feel the chill of water wrapping around his torso; it would be a good excuse to fight back, to lash out. He held himself in check, though, remembering the treaty—remembering too that Entrapta would be disappointed in him if he hurt one of her supposed ‘friends’.

“I know you’ve got some kind of plan in mind, and—“

Both of them jumped when Mermista’s communicator started to go off. She did something strange with her hand—first pointing to her face, index and middle fingers spread, then pointing to him. His ears pulled back in annoyance and confusion. Glaring, she pulled up her communicator and turned her back on him in obvious dismissal. He growled softly, even as he resisted the urge to show her why that was a bad idea. Determined to ignore her, he started to walk away, until he heard—“Hi, Mermista! You remember when I asked if I could borrow Hordak for a few days so I could take him to the Flower Festival, right?”

“Entrapta?” he asked, ears pricked.

Mermista glared at him, but answered Entrapta, “Yeah? What of it?”

“I’m no longer asking!” Hordak’s ears twitched. He walked up behind Mermista; his height made it easy for him to peer over her head. Seeing him, Entrapta beamed. “Hi, Hordak! I’m kidnapping you.”

“What?” he and Mermista asked at the same time. They glared at each other. Ears back, Hordak cleared his throat and focused on the communicator. “Entrapta, I....” He huffed. “You cannot kidnap me. That would break the peace treaty and could have serious ramifications for your nation’s alliance with Salineas. They’re an important trade partner. You cannot risk such a thing for what amounts to a short vacation.”

“Oh. Well. That’s gonna make this really awkward....”

As if on queue, Sea Hawk appeared on the screen. He raised a dramatic hand to his forehead. “Oh, woe! Woe is me! I have been captured!” He bent backwards, supported only by a rope of Entrapta’s hair. “Please, my love—you must concede to her demands! Who knows what this villain is capable of...even if she isn’t dressed like one.”

“I think overalls are really an all-purpose outfit.”

He just sighed heavily. “Woe! Woe is me—kidnapped by a villain with no sense of style, which is honestly worse than the kidnapping itself.”

”They can be evil overalls,” she offered helpfully. 

Mermista groaned. “Sea Hawk, I’ve been looking for you all morning. Where are you?”

Hordak cocked his head. “Entrapta, I do not understand.”  

“Oh, it’s really very simple. When Mermista said you couldn’t come to Plumeria with me, Sea Hawk called, and—“

Sea Hawk jumped into action, grabbing hold of the communicator. “She is devious! She lured me into her web, like some sort of devilish spider! I was captured! Caught! Please, my love, you must meet her demands—or else!”

“Oh—right,” Entrapta said. “Absolutely. That is exactly what happened.” She winked, and Hordak pressed his fingertips to his forehead, sighing.

Mermista groaned. “Ugh. You cannot be serious. Please tell me you’re not doing this.”

“I’m afraid this is a matter of deadly seriousness, my love! You must meet us at the docks in half an hour—“

“Oh, make it one hour. So Hordak has time to pack.”

“Right! Of course.” He cleared his throat. “You must meet us at the docks in one hour; who knows what terrors she has in store for me!”

Entrapta waved. “Bye! Remember to pack comfortable clothes.”

He cocked his head, ears back, even as he waved hesitantly. The communicator shut off, and Mermista groaned aloud, the sound long and drawn out. She spun to glare at him. “What did you do?” she snapped.

“I had no part in this farce!”

“Obviously! This has ‘Sea Hawk’ written all over it, but he’s only doing it because he likes you, and I don’t get it! You’re—ugh!” She gestured to him and sneered.

“Entrapta will not harm him.”

“I know that!”

“You misunderstand—I mean that Entrapta will not harm him if you don’t bring me to her.”

“Yeah, and if I don’t, now suddenly I’m the bad guy for ruining his fun.”

His ears folded back, and he cocked his head. “Sea Hawk is very...fond of you. Yet you do not seem particularly fond of him.”

She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. Her hands clenched closed, then she exhaled slowly and flexed her them open again. “Shut up. What do you know about relationships?”

“I don’t pretend to know anything. It was just an observation.”

“Yeah, well, go observe something else.”

“Happily.”

He rejoined the builders and resumed his work. Mermista could sort out Sea Hawk, and he was confident that Entrapta would seek him out when everything was settled. They could not go to Plumeria together, but she’d said she was amenable to staying with him in Salineas for a while.

A little over an hour later, though, he was drawn from his current project by the sound of shouting. He immediately ran toward the screaming, expecting to find a half-collapsed building or the results of an errant explosion. He did not expect to find Entrapta’s mech from Beast Island running rampant through the construction site, while workers scattered before her like seals before an orca. “What is that?” one of the crew asked, defensively raising a metal pipe despite her shaking hands.

“Stand down,” he said, “That is Bethany, one of Entrapta’s companions. She is not here to harm anyone. Just keep out of her way; I imagine she’s looking for me.”

He started toward her, and one of the workers grabbed his arm—dropping it immediately when he glared at him. “You’re sure it’s safe?”

Hordak’s ears twitched. “I did not say that she was safe.” Bethany could sometimes become overexcited, and she often forgot her own strength. “Remain here, and you will be fine. It’s me she wants.”

He walked away from the group, directing others to keep clear as he approached. As soon as Bethany noticed him, she sprinted in his direction, powerful front legs kicking up dust and dirt. He stood still, watching as she corrected her trajectory by leaping overhead when she realized she was going too fast to stop without colliding with him. He turned to face her as she landed, dust hazing the air. She walked toward him at a more sedate pace and knelt as the dust settled, tilting her head so he could reach up to scratch her ‘ear’. Her engine rumbled as he did, and her  ‘mouth’ fell open, but Entrapta was not inside. His ears folded back. “Bethany, where is Entrap—ta?!”

She snapped him up, enclosing him in her cramped cockpit. He blinked, reorienting himself and twisting into an acceptable position. Comfort would not be possible in such a confined space. He toggled her controls, but her autopilot was engaged and the controls were locked. He could unlock them, if he wanted. Bethany’s design was rather primitive in some ways, and many of her controls could be hacked relatively easily. However, he saw no reason to offend her when he suspected he knew where she was taking him. He settled in to wait out the bumpy trip, not especially surprised when they reached the docks.

Entrapta was waiting for them, a trunk by her side. Bethany came to a sudden stop, jostling him, but she gently lowered her head so he could climb out of the cockpit with some measure of ease. Before his feet even touched the ground, Entrapta’s hair caught him up and pulled him close. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, and her legs wrapped around his hips. Her hair wrapped around everything else. He curled around her just as tightly, burying his face in the side of her neck and holding her close. “Hello, Starlight,” he murmured, her hair coiling around his fingers. “I’ve missed you.”

She nodded and hugged him tighter, sighing in contentment. “I missed you too! It hasn’t even been that long, but...” She pulled back just enough to look at him. “I didn’t know I could miss someone the way I missed you.” She laid a hand on his cheek, and he leaned into her palm, shutting his eyes to savor the touch. Her other hand slid between them, resting on his sternum. “You’re purring.”

His eyes opened, but he didn’t pull away. “It is not a purr. I do not....” He trailed off with a huff. Entrapta was smiling at him; he would not argue if she wanted to call it a purr.

“So, are you ready to go?”

“Go?”

“To Plumeria.”

His ears folded back. “Mermista agreed to that?”

“Well...” she drew out the word. “Not exactly. She came to pick up Sea Hawk and said that I could find you myself. We didn’t really discuss Plumeria, but I’m sure it’s okay. Sea Hawk waved as they left and very clearly said he’d see us there. So it’s probably fine.”

Hordak shook his head uncertainly. “I do not think that qualifies as an agreement.”

“Do you want to go?”

“It does not matter what I want—“

“It does, though.” He looked away, but a lock of hair curled around his cheek, urging him to turn back to her. “It matters to me. So—do you want to go?”

He shut his eyes and took a breath as he considered his reply. Finally, he looked at her and said, “I want to spend time with you; the location does not matter.”

Her smile was brilliant. “Excellent!” Her hair peeled away from him, and she used it to balance as she too pulled away. “May I have your hands?”

Curious, he held out his hands, and she installed a chip on each gauntlet. “What are you—?” She pressed a button, and a tether of purple light appeared between the two chips as his forearms pulled together. His ears folded back, and he tried to pull his hands apart. There were a few inches of give, but the tether held. He suspected he could break the bond if he absolutely needed to, but he was also able to reach the button Entrapta had pressed with ease. He touched it, and the tether disappeared. She turned it back on. “I do not understand what you’re doing,” he said.

“I’m kidnapping you!”

He cocked his head. “That is not an explanation.”

She hooked a rope of hair through the crook of his elbow and began guiding him toward the only steel vessel docked amidst the multitude of wooden ships. Another rope of hair grabbed the trunk, and he realized abrupty that it was his trunk, not hers. “Well, the way I figure, if I kidnap you, you’re not breaking the treaty.”

“But you would be. I do not want you to suffer—politically or personally—for my sake.”

“Actually, I signed the treaty as a member of the Princess Alliance; I didn’t make any promises about rebuilding. In fact, from a certain standpoint, you could read the clauses I agreed to—about pardoning the Etherian Horde for their acts during wartime and not penalizing Prime’s Clones for their actions while under his control—as applying to you. Excluding you from the festival, when all the other Princesses and their partners are allowed to go, is just singling you out for special punishment. Which you don’t deserve and is explicitly forbidden by the treaty.”

“I am free and permitted to remain at your side. I fail to see how I’m being punished for anything. They could be much harsher—“

She turned and used the tether to pull him close, kissing him with unexpected ferocity. He shut his eyes and leaned in, savoring the sensation of her lips against his. She pulled back slowly to look at him. “No, they can’t. Not while I’m here.” Her gaze, too, was fierce. And protective. “My nation has many trade partners, and the tech we produce is very valuable. No one is going to break a trade agreement over this. As for personal consequences....” She pressed her forehead to his, eyes shut, and feathered her thumb along the skin just behind his ear. “You are my best, most constant friend. You’re my lab partner. If they have a problem with that, then they’re not really my friends.” He sighed audibly, tension he wasn’t aware of bleeding out of his shoulders. She pulled back and grinned at him. “Now—to Plumeria!”

He still had his reservations about the whole thing, but he couldn’t find it in himself to deny her. A soft smile tugged at his mouth. “Lead the way, Starlight.”

She smiled and kissed him again, soft and gentle this time.

-

A/N: As always, your comments are deeply appreciated. I’m so happy everyone is enjoying this story. Thank you all so much for your kind words and support!

[backandimbamon]

part III

a/n: ive been sitting on this chapter for weeks. being a perfectionist...will do things to you. enjoy and please leave a reply!

Perhaps something happened on the other side between Damon and Bonnie.

Perhaps something happened between them that shattered the defenses, the bickering, the banter, the tension... maybe it was all too much to handle and one day they decided to resolve it in a new way that was less stressful and more natural.

What if they finally focused their vision on the situation and realized it was demented, downright unfair, to trap a handsome sex pot of a vampire and a stunning little witch with magically delicious blood together forever, the last two on earth, and swear them to a platonic relationship?

A kiss? Or sex? Caroline is full Sherlock Holmes, investigator style because there is no possible way that the dynamic between Bonnie and Damon remained the same after such a...dynamic...event occurred to both of them simultaneously. She has a hunch.

But a kiss? Sex? She knows she’s jumping the gun. As much as she can project, the denial between them both would prevent such forward actions. But-

It makes sense, she thinks, perfect sense. If they decided to break that forbidden rule, are they truly to blame? She’s sure she isn’t the only one who could physically see the sexual tension brewing between the vampire and the witch since their first formal introduction. Throughout the years, it’s only increased in intensity and anyone with decent deductive reasoning skills could predict that maybe, just maybe, there was a hiccup in those roles they played so dutifully. They “hated” each other. Sure.

Being the last two on a repeating day, desperation settling, solitude dancing, they’re under the radar... anything could happen. As if on queue, her mind begins to sift through the possibilities again. She always had a knack for probability.

A bite... now that is highly likely.

Caroline can imagine Bonnie being her normal selfless, sacrificial self, asking Damon if he’s okay- it seems like he’s tired or beat since he’s been slack on their banter, his comebacks lackluster and falling flat. He lies because lying is as effortless as breathing to Damon and he politely but solidly asks Bonnie not to worry about him, that he just misses home so his mood is sour.

He tries to maintain his normal devil-may-care, overly nonchalant, effortlessly sexy character with the huge ego but it’s not quite the same. He’s not as clever and though he’s close, he’s not close enough.

She observes this.

Bonnie picks at him, rapid question-asking all while being inquisitive and selfless and caring and healing, she tells him she knows him better than he knows himself. She says she can feel when he lies.

Damon probably experiences a foreign emotion at this point, wondering why his undead heart seems as though it’s hammering, beatboxing against his bones, threatening to reveal what he wants to hide so bad.

He’s hungry.

And he’s never felt a hunger quite like this. He’s emptied every single blood bag in the freezer, still there’s this nagging sensation that no matter how much blood he consumes, even if he decides to bathe in it, if it’s not what he really wants to devour, he will never be satisfied. It’s like eating fast food when craving gourmet, that craving never ceases, it’s just mitigated for a moment with a bottom-of-the-barrel substitute. The next time the hunger returns, it leaves its victim in gut-splitting agony so much so that it’s exhausting. The hunger is kicking his ass to force him to get what he’s denying himself. Damon is the victim. For once, he is the victim here.

Bonnie being intelligent and knowing Damon, she can guess what his struggles consist of. It takes her a week to consider it. He never says it explicitly, that he wants to bite her, but the shadow of veins under his eyes says enough. Damon Salvatore is a predator. It is unnatural for him not to hunt prey for an indefinite amount of time. She is all he has.

She thinks hard on this, questioning if her empathy has reached a new level of desperation. She asks herself what is her infatuation with being needed. She asks herself why she would rip herself apart to heal others. Why she feels this undying, naked, indelible need to do for others without doing for herself. She asks herself if the roles were reversed would Damon do the same?

For a week, she watches him get weaker with want, endures his shitty moods and back talk. Not once does he ask or even hint that he’s starving.

It makes Bonnie want to offer herself up on a platter even more, there’s something wrong with her.

So she does it, in the kitchen, cuts a sliver of red at the wrist “by accident” and Damon- he looks bad. He looks blue.

She turns to grab a napkin to dab at the blood but when she turns back around he’s gone. Upstairs, his door slams hard enough that she can hear the wood split.

“Damon!” She calls after him but he doesn’t reply and she doesn’t see him again until the next night because he refuses to step out of his room.

“Stop. We need to talk,” he’s fixing Italian trying to pretend like nothing ever happened twenty-six hours before; apron on, back turned, humming. He’s not okay.

“Then talk, Bon Bon.” he adds some herbs to the white wine sauce, grated cheese beside him, back still turned.

There’s something that’s frightening her about this and it could be herself. He hasn’t even asked yet she wants this for him so bad.

“Damon. I know you’re hungry.”

“Ding, ding. I’m making dinner right now, Bon.” His voice is rough like it’s warning her not to push this any further. The pots and pans clatter a little louder in his palms. Red tomatoes a stark contrast against the pale noodles.

“I cut myself on purpose last night.”

This grabs his attention. Swiftly, he drops everything, turns around and walks into Bonnie, forcing her to walk backwards until the cabinets halt her with a soft thud. His hands are at her shoulders with a dizzying shake as he says “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

Damon Salvatore, always so invasive, too animated, with a face that’s intimidatingly perfect.

It’s unsettling and downright unfair for him to possess such appeal; even angry and a threat to her life span, any woman would want him. Hell, Any man would want him. She wishes she could steal whatever that quality is. She wants that for herself.

It’s almost comical that after all these years of his presence, he can still startle her with his beauty. With his mouth shut, he’s so unassuming and pretty. In all seriousness, he looks like an angel. The slanted smirk and jaded attitude is the only hint that maybe this book doesn’t match the cover.

He gives her another shake as if the answer will tumble out of her, it makes her think of the time they hated each other. Way back when.

But now, this is too close for comfort. His eyes are an angry blue and she’s swimming laps, her words get caught in her throat before she can reply.

Weakly she says, “Just stop fighting it, okay? I’ve made up my mind and I trust you.”

“You trust me? You trust me, Bon? I don’t even trust me! What’s the matter with you?”

Honesty is not suitable. She can’t say that it’s lips anywhere on her body that she needs even if it’s at her wrist. That her withdrawal has her fingers exhausted and her body aching because she needs some sort of physical connection outside of herself. Bonnie wants Damon to drink her like wine so she can remember what it feels like to be desired and she can see it, the desire she needs, veiled and trapped behind the denial she knows too well. She wants to open that door to see if he needs her just as bad as she thinks he does. She wants to set it on fire.

“Damon, please.”

When she tilts her head and locks her green eyes with his, he sees the deprivation. Like she’s starving too. Like it pains her to not have his teeth in her neck. The look on her face reveals everything she cannot say. Damon shudders.

He doesn’t mean to trail his nose up the slope of her neck but he does and his stomach growls so violently that he’s surprised he doesn’t shake. There’s a new scent in the air and it’s Bonnie’s arousal.

He clenches his jaw with a painful force, half expecting it to shatter.

The words are no louder than a whisper when she says, “I’m your friend. Let me do this for you.”

People who are actually friends seldom use the word “friend.” But Damon and Bonnie ware the word out trying to convince one another that it’s all they are, nothing more. They haven’t said the word more than they have in this hell because it’s a reminder when sanity starts to slip. It’s a reminder when they start to wonder what would happen if they weren’t just “friends.”

Best friends.

Bonnie makes it hard for him. She makes everything hard for him and this hell where she’s the only one to exist makes the things he could easily ignore blatantly obvious. The feminine curve of her breast, the spread of her hips, the lovely enigmatic green of her eyes, he’s always thinking of Bonnie. Even asleep, she haunts his dreams with golden brown skin and a crooked smile. The ghost of her fragrance creates a tornado around him in this tiny cramped space called hell, it’s comforting and devastating.

Everytime he looks in the mirror he’s reminded of the fact that everything he wants he takes. Even if he doesn’t want it, he takes it. But with Bonnie, it doesn’t quite work out that way. There’s rules with Bonnie. His charisma is useless to her because that’s his best friend. She’s immune to him and maybe he’s not okay with that.

Poor Damon, he could weep now because Bonnie was never supposed to be the one to snap first. He was supposed to be the unhinged vampire with bountiful problems, the rebel and she was supposed to be the very stable, very perfect witch but she’s breaking. He’s her lesser and she’s the one who’s breaking. This has to be a cruel dream where if he hits himself hard enough, he’ll wake up.

His fangs slip out by accident, they feel the presence of Bonnie’s blood just humming with delicacy and complexity under her skin. She’s waiting to be tasted, she takes her hand and guides his mouth to her neck so his tooth pricks her skin. A bead of red shoots up but his tongue is quick to swipe that first drop almost sampling to make sure Bonnie is serious. She says something under her breath but the bloodlust has the rest of his senses useless. He doesn’t hear her.

Damon gnashes his teeth into her delicate skin, his expertise never allowing one ribbon of blood to trail away because he laps it up so greedily, so manically that he almost chokes. It feels like heaven busted and started showering its essence into his open mouth. He can’t take the time to breath or else he’ll rob himself of perfection for a few seconds too long. The life surges back into his body.

A montage of honey, patchouli, iron, lilac, roses, metal, bergamot, smoke, magic, fire, fear all on his tastebuds at once. In the distance, desire begins to bloom.

Then there’s a click and he starts to feel it.

Bonnie’s arousal is creeping up on him slowly like a distant claw of nails down his spine, the ghost of a sopping mouth around the head of his cock. He emits a wet groan then takes another tactless slurp and can practically feel Bonnie’s walls gripping against his shaft- it frightens him how bad he wants it. It scares him how he can feel the phantom of her nipples through his apron and t-shirt. He’s sweating when his pants start to bunch at the center. She’s breathing erratically, wraps her legs around his waist so she feels that lovely poke between her legs and it terrifies him.

Never has he untangled the web of feelings he associated with the complicatedly simple Bonnie Shealia Bennett. However, that web has been slowly unraveling since their first day here. Those feelings he never was honest with himself to admit are dousing him right now, of his own volition. He’s frightened out of his mind with the realization that he’s always wanted to take his best friend, little Judgey, Bon Bon, Elena’s BFF, and sex her into a stupor until the only word in her vocabulary is his name.

Damon Salvatore wants to fuck Bonnie Bennett so deeply that they must excavate his dick from her slot to retrieve it.

Oh God.

He can see himself, inside of her, inside of his best friend as she begs him to go faster and harder but he won’t listen. He never listens and it’s driving her up the fucking wall as her pleas to let her cum all over him fumbles his rhythm. Damon has never been more afraid of himself. Damon has never been more oblivious of a desire that waited for a moment like this since their first encounter. He feels baited.

Fear of this discovery, this dormant longing, brings him back to earth and violently disconnects him from the bloodlust, he removes his fangs too quickly, his head spinning with filthy thoughts of his best friend. The moan that tumbles past his lips is dire, it rips through his throat and says she has to fuck him or he will simply die.

Somewhere an invisible candle burns in the air labeled “Bonnie’s Lust.” It’s so strong Damon can taste it.

They look at each other differently. They are strangers. She’s painted in red, his mouth is a mess, the erection in his pants is hard enough to unearth his grave and bury himself alive. He offers his bleeding wrist up to her and tries not to cum when her mouth latches on.

When she’s done, he decides he won’t distract himself with the gorgeous sight of a panting Bonnie, looking as if she’s been thoroughly fornicated with her eyes all glossy like that.

Damon is dizzy, tipsy from blood, pleasure and a bombardment of epiphanies.

He turns around too sharply on his heel and passes out, just like that. A lifeless heap of beauty on the kitchen floor.

Bonnie’s definitely scared of whatever took over them as she crouches next to him and fans his face. Her mind is still far from her after such a disastrous high. Her heartbeat sounds like the pounding of an incessant guest.

Knock, knock.

In that moment, Deja-vu gives her a kiss. Bonnie’s mind floats back to Elena’s lapis prom dress with the silver clasps in the back and how she always thought Damon was perfect for Elena like that tailored dress. The way it hugged her and snapped in place. The way it clicked.

Bonnie remembers trying that dress on first and falling in love. She loved that feeling, how it felt like it was made for her and only her but Elena insisted. Not even Caroline knew. She gave the dress up for her, anything for her best friend. It was just a pretentious mélange of fabric and thread. A lifeless heap of beauty on the fitting room floor.

When he awakens, they pretend as if nothing happened and Damon wonders if he dreamt that but the little wounds on her neck mock his question. Desire still sleeps between them, dependent on that next slip up to pounce. But it never gets the chance.

Damon relives that moment when he meets himself in the mirror and the hint of teeth marks is on his neck from Bonnie’s “tipsy” courage.

“Once bitten, twice shy,” he says to himself and ironically being a century-old vampire he never understood the saying. He lets the little phrase stagnate the air because he doesn’t want to concern himself with figuring out why Bonnie’s teeth marks aren’t disappearing with his rapid healing ability.

Anyways, it’s kind of cute.

He sends her a picture message with a text to follow:

Twice bitten, once dead.

[intxlligibility]

@painedprince​ said  “ we should stick to the path.” Prompto getting dragged off the last time they were in a tomb had stuck with him, and maybe he'd been right to be scared of these dark places... | Your highness(Noctis). 

It is from the moment they step into this particular tomb that Ignis understands that this is not their usual kind of grotto, that they ought to be very careful, not only with what might reside here, but also to watch their footing. The reasoning as to why they are now split in two. Gladio and Prompto, and him and Noctis. This information does not dishearten him, he might not be the Shield, but he can damn well be the Blade. 

“Do watch where you go, Noct. Path or not, I do not trust this place is going to make it easy for us” 

Now, he cannot exactly call it a grotto either. The walls are littered with drawings and ancient writings, ominous really. Almost as a warning that this is nothing more than a horrible trap that they have walked willingly into. 

No matter. He shall make sure they are both safe and sound by the end of this.

Almost as on queue, a rumbling sound shakes the ground beneath them, rocks loosen from the walls, and Ignis is quick to reach out and pull Noct back before the solid stone crashes into the path. 

“Quite the predicament we’ve gotten ourselves into” 

He mutters and releases the prince from his grip. 

[major-721]

@gloriatownsend asked: what if jpeg ended up happy and lawfully married... haha.. jk.. unless? 😳

The irony of it all is that he’s in civilian clothing. Even in his own home, he keeps in military dress to a degree.

Well. Except around Peggy. The vulnerability it causes isn’t something he relishes—so perhaps it’s fitting that, on his first and only on field spying endeavour, he’s been caught in civilian clothing, vulnerable in so many ways.

The end, he knows, is coming—Arnold, the tainted son, the traitor, has escaped, according to the gossip from those guarding the cabin he’s being held in.

His muscle ache; and he thanks the lord that it is not winter, or he would be in a far sorrier state; but as it is, when the door to the cabin opens, the flash of a cloak and blue uniform urging him to stand, he finds he almost topples, and has to steady himself on the wall.

“Major André.”

“I would say it’s a pleasure, but, well,” he gestures broadly to indicate the situation at hand; smiles wanly. “May I enquire as to who you are, sir?”

The man—slightly shorter than him, with long, wavy blonde hair pulled back neatly in a queue fastened with a black ribbon—regards him with interest. “Major Ben Tallmadge,” he says, and offers his gloved hand. “Your American counterpart, if you will.”

“Ah.” John’s smile turns genuine. “I’ve heard much about you, Major. You are quite the presence.”

“The General is deliberating as to your fate,” Tallmadge says, bluntly. “I have asked him to consider requesting a trade with the British—you for Arnold—, but I am uncertain if it will be regarded with anything but a brief thought.”

That surprises him; and his fingers, tapping against his leg, still. “A...trade?” He would protest it, but after speaking with Arnold in person, after realising this is whom Peggy is to be married to, he finds himself amenable to the idea even with the amount of time he poured into baiting and reeling Arnold in.

Tallmadge nods. “I...” He pauses. “It may be ungentlemanly to admit, but...I wish him to be punished. You, at least, are loyal to your cause—that, I can respect, though you fight for a king. Arnold—” He halts; as if the name pains him, before continuing. “Arnold is a turncoat. A traitor. That, I cannot ever forgive, no matter how I may once have admired him.”

John blinks. “I...thank you?” he tries; not sure if that’s appropriate; slightly lost for the first time in years. Peggy would call it charming.

Tallmadge gives a curt nod. “Until then, I’ll make sure you are treated with the respect and decency accorded to an officer of your rank—”

The door creaks open yet again; this time to reveal a short, wild-haired, bearded man. “Ben,” he greets; immediately stepping to take a spot next to, and almost leaning into, Tallmadge.

“Ca—Lieutenant Brewster,” Tallmadge correct himself; gaze off of John for the first time since entering the cabin, instead fixed wholly on the Lieutenant. “What are you doing here?”

Brewster shoots him a dark look. “Makin’ certain as to you not being hurt,” he says.

“Well, I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m a Major,” Tallmadge rebuffs, but gently. “I’m hardly untrained to handle myself should a dangerous situation arise.”

Brewster gives him a flat look. “I’m not leaving.” They stare at each other intently until Tallmadge finally breaks the contract and mutters a sullen fine.

Ah, John thinks, suddenly. They remind him of Peggy and himself.

“I thank you for your efforts,” John said, after waiting a beat; and both men’s attentions turn to him. Brewster’s gaze is suspicious, but Tallmadge seems almost relieved. John suspects that most of the king’s officers he interacts with are not nearly so polite.

Tallmadge nods; and ushers Brewster out of the cabin, leaving the Major alone.

True to Tallmadge’s words, John is treated decently, even by the enlisted men, who he can tell don’t like him much. Two days after he’s captured, the door opens to reveal not someone bringing his meal, but rather, Major Tallmadge.

This time, he stands more steadily. “Major.” He takes a breath. “Is it to be the firing squad, or the rope?”

Tallmadge shakes his head. “Neither.”

“What?”

He knows what it means, of course; but he’s so surprised he’s at a loss for words. Tallmadge seems to understand. “General Clinton agreed to trade Arnold to us in exchange for your safe return. You will be returning to New York.”

Relief crashes over John—unexpected, holy relief. He shall live to see Peggy again.

He finds himself nodding weakly. “Thank you,” he murmurs.

Tallmadge escorts him out of the cabin and to where Lieutenant Brewster is waiting with three horses. Brewster leans in to say something to Tallmadge before he hands over the reins to the dappled grey mare.

The ride to neutral territory is uneventful; and they meet Arnold’s escort at a pre-determined clearing in the woods. Arnold’s been subdued, but John can tell that it was a struggle; and his glare is furious; snarl distorted by the gag in his mouth. They must have gotten tired of his shouting, John thinks wanly.

Brewster and Tallmadge handle him well, though; and John watches them for a moment after exchanging the horse he’s riding for the one Arnold was on. Tallmadge, he thinks, may be slightly more harsh with Arnold than is strictly necessary, but John doesn’t comment on it.

The first thing John does when he gets back to York city is write Peggy a letter explaining what happened. The second thing he does is resign his commission.

Clinton isn’t pleased; but for once, John cannot find it in himself to care, especially when, the next day, he opens the door to find Peggy beaming at him. “John!” she cries, and, in an uncharacteristic display, throws her arms around him.

He finds himself smiling so hard that his cheeks hurt. “Peggy,” he murmurs.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” Peggy says, as she pulls away. “Oh, John, I was so afraid—” she stops, eyes glassy. “I was so afraid I would never see you again.”

“I’m here,” he assures, “I’m right here.”

Her smile widens, and John says, without thinking, “Elope with me. We can go to Canada, live a normal life. It won’t be as glamorous as your life here but—”

“Yes.”

He stares at her. “Yes,” she says, again, more firmly. “Yes, John, my answer is—my answer will always be yes.” And then she tugs him back against her and kisses him.

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

We’re All Mad Here | Jurdan College AU

Summary: Tenacious student, Jude Duarte, discovers a dark underworld in the very heart of RGU. It’s all just a game of Russian Roulette. Harmless, as long as you’re the one holding the gun.

Content Warning: Cursing, mild mention of panic attack (to skip, stop reading between the ~~~~~)

Part II   |   Masterlist   |   AO3

Part I- Slow Burn

I, Jude Duarte, third year at Royal Greenbriar University and soon-to-be reigning Top Scholar, am in a hurry.

It’s rush hour. The pavement is slick with sleet and packed with important people in fancy suits. They brave sheets of freezing rain that lash down from the angry October skies with an unending canopy of black umbrellas.

I don’t carry my own. Umbrellas aggravate the chaos of mornings in Insmire, and I don’t need to add another to the mix.

Luckily, I am short. Manoeuvring through gaps in elbows and shoulders does not take much effort on my part. It’s the briefcases and patches of ice which make running a bit of a challenge this morning—but then, I have always enjoyed a challenge.

As I tear through the crowded streets of Insmire, I only know one thing: No amount of wind or hail or people can stop me. And if anyone gets bludgeoned with my thirty-pound backpack as I weave through the throng, well, that’s on them.

Cold air slices through me with every heave of my lungs, every pounding thud of my boots on the sidewalk. My legs are sore from yesterday’s fencing practice, but I savour the sweet ache and forge on.

I am used to this rushing, for I am always in a hurry. It sometimes feels like I’ve been in a hurry from my very first breath. As if I’m constantly trying to catch up to something just out of my grasp.

My twin sister, Taryn, and I were born in a hurry.

So excited were we to join the ranks of men, we surprised our mother half to death by wandering into the world nearly four weeks early.

As a result, we spent the next several weeks of our lives as tiny things in incubators—a little sickly and terribly jaundiced. This was how our mother always used to describe it, at least.

Ever since then, I have been invariably late to everything. Mostly, I blame it on the incubators. And the jaundice.

If I’m being honest with myself, though, being always late is a trait I can only attribute to who I am as a person. It is as much a part of me as the tip of my left ring finger is not.

I sometimes wonder if that’s exactly the crux of it; that just like my fingertip, my punctuality has somehow been taken from me, too.

I have heard of twins absorbing their siblings in the womb. I can’t see why personality traits should be any different. Especially since Taryn and I had to spread them so thinly between two of us.

And Taryn is always perfectly on time.

I risk a glance at my watch. A tiny crack runs up the glass. It’s been there for ages, but I am still nettled by the sight of it and the unbidden memory it stirs.

It’s because of this tiny crack that the watch’s face is now fogged up from the inside. I can barely make out the three little golden hands racing each other toward my tardiness.

Seven minutes past eight.

I am really very late. Or, I know I will be, at least.

Technically, if I go straight to the Silhouette Gazette now, I will be right on time for my interview.

But I can’t go straight there. Not when I haven’t had coffee.

Without my fix, I won’t be able to string together even one sentence. Much less make it through an entire interview with enough charisma to snag the internship position I so desperately need. Since I am not very charismatic to begin with, I’ll need all the help I can get.

Everything depends on my getting this internship. If I don’t, there’s no way I’ll maintain my near-perfect GPA, no way I’ll graduate summa cum laude or Valedictorian of my class.

And then I’ll have to go into something boring. Like publishing. A shudder runs through me that has nothing to do with the cold.

I shove between two men wearing long coats and flat caps. They grunt in shock and disapproval. I hardly feel the zing of pain as my shin collides with something hard.

A briefcase flies out of its owner’s grip, crashing onto the pavement a few yards away. I don’t stop to apologise.

“Bitch!” One of the flat caps shouts after me.

Yes, I agree silently, hopping over the felled bag. I am very much that.

If I had the time and breath to tell the men just the same, I would. Instead, I flip them a rude gesture over my shoulder and don’t turn around.

I’m already ten paces away when a dull throbbing starts on my leg. It radiates from where I know there’ll be an unsightly bruise tomorrow. But bruises are a thing for future Jude to handle.

There is no way I will let what happened last year happen again. Second-year was a fluke. A one-time thing.

I will get this internship, take back my rightful title of Top Scholar, and keep it until I graduate—just like my mother did. I absolutely refuse to be beaten out by some preppy moneybags prick.

Or a bit of hail.

Before flying out the door of my flat this morning, I did a quick search on Google Maps, the results of which yielded the quirky little coffee shop I now see in my line of vision.

The White Rabbit sits mercifully in all its three-story glory right across the street from the newspaper’s office building. If luck is on my side, if I hurry, I should have just enough time to grab a cup to-go and make it with a minute or two to spare.

My thoughts are all jumbled as I barrel through the glass doors.

A white-haired barista stands behind the counter at the back of the shop, taking a customer’s order with an unbearable amount of cheer for a Monday morning.

The queue isn’t too bad, maybe three people long. I send up a quick thanks to whatever power of the universe might be in charge of coffee queues.

It smells miraculous in here—freshly ground coffee and something buttered and flakey. Suddenly, I am too warm.

I make a beeline for the back of the queue, shucking off my hat and gloves as I go. I’m unzipping my coat, a difficult task with hands full of knitted things, when a wall of black blurs into my periphery.

I don’t have a second to react before that wall smacks me right in the forehead. And collides everywhere else.

A scalding liquid sloshes down the front of my shirt. I stumble backwards, gasping at the pain.

There is a very loud “Fuck” followed by an equally as loud “Shit!”

I am not sure which curse fell from my lips, but I know it was one of them. All I can feel is this dreadful sting. It spreads like a wildfire across my chest.

Perhaps, I’d cursed both words. The pain certainly warrants it.

“Are you alright, dear?” a dark, silken voice asks. A pair of beringed hands steady me, grasping my shoulders with the barest of touches. As quickly as they appeared, like that they are gone. And then they are handing me a wad of brown paper napkins.

“Here,” the voice says.

I snatch the proffered napkins and look up at my assailant.

Perfect. Just perfect, I think with a scowl. Of course the person who spills their drink down my blouse has to be stupidly attractive.

The man before me is so beautiful it’s almost cruel.

A crown of crow dark curls circles his head, framing his oil slick eyes and sharp cheekbones. His is an unnecessary sort of perfection that sets my teeth grinding.

He’s clad in all black, save for his coat—a beaded brocade of black and crimson silk with quilted red lapels. From the breast pocket, a beaded scarlet brooch in the shape of a dahlia dangles in ostentatious splendour.

There is something familiar about him I can’t quite grasp.

For some inexplicable reason I amount to probable insanity, I cannot stop my gaze from flitting to his mouth.

Bad idea. Very bad idea.

His lips look like two full flower petals. I’m plagued by the inane thought that they might feel just as soft. If I can only reach out and—

I shake my head.

Concern creases the man’s brow now. To my horror, I realise I haven’t responded to his question. I’ve just stood here, dripping and sticky, for who knows how long. Staring. Like an idiot.

“I’m fine,” I grit out through barred teeth and my own mortification. I pat at the stain hastily with the wad of napkins. “I’m just great.”

It’s useless, of course.

The stain isn’t coming out, I’m late to my life-altering interview, and to make matters worse, I still haven’t had coffee. Not to mention, my chest burns in a way that makes me tempted to scrap everything in favour of a doctor’s office.

~~~~~

That’s when panic seizes hold.

A strand of pearls tightening around my throat. I am sure it means to strangle me because I cannot breathe.

My heart takes flight, battering my ribcage as if it intends to escape entirely. A trail of sweat trickles down my forehead.

I am going to be late. I am going to have this horrid stain on my shirt. I am going to fail this interview. I am going to fail this year and myself and my family.

There’s something heavy sitting on my lungs. I am both hot and cold, here and not.

Tears prick my eyes. I will them not to spill over, but of course, my body betrays me. I swipe furiously at my cheeks.

Everyone in the coffee shop plus one unfortunately attractive dude must be staring, watching as I teeter on the edge of full-blown hysterics.

“Hey,” Unfortunately Attractive Dude croons, but I don’t see him.

I try to draw even breaths. And fail. And fail again.

~~~~~

I’m barely aware of the hand that guides me to a corner of the coffee shop. It’s darker here. A bit quieter, too. I notice a large bookshelf obscuring the alcove from the main seating area. Away from prying eyes.

“Just relax,” the man says. “It’s going to be okay. Are you hurt?” He looks inclined to place his hand on my shoulder again but thinks better of it when he sees my expression.

I want to punch him in his stupid face. Maybe I should. It’s only fair, given the circumstances.

“Relax?” I scoff, hating the way my voice cracks. “Don’t tell me to relax. I’ve got an interview in ten minutes and I’m fairly certain my would-be boss won’t appreciate my being late. Or this sort of oversharing.”

I make a wild gesture at the stain on my chest, ignoring the slight tremor in my hands. I am acutely aware of the fabric’s transparency there. Today was not the day to wear a bright purple bra.

A moment passes before a smirk slips into place on Unfortunately Attractive Dude’s hateful mouth. He folds his arms across his chest, giving me a once over.

“You sure about that?” he drawls, and now I am positive I’m going to punch him. My hands curl into fists at my sides.

“You’re disgusting.”

“And you, sunshine, are no longer having a panic attack.”

Indeed, the tightening in my throat has waned. But as keen an observation as it might be, I would first run my hand through with my fencing sabre than admit he is right.

“I wasn’t having a panic attack,” I say too quickly. He produces a smug expression that is just as bewitching as it is infuriating.

He knows what I’ve said is a lie. I know it’s a lie, too. Very deep down. In some dark forgotten place inside me where things that don’t want to be admitted go.

The man grins as if I should be grateful. I am decidedly not.

“I don’t know who you think you are,” I say, taking a step toward him. “But don’t pretend to know me. Because you don’t.”

He lifts a brow—the worst kind of dare. “Don’t I?”

“No,” I say. I hope I come off more menacing than I feel with my tearstained cheeks and conspicuous underthings on display for all the world to see.

“Pity,” he says, still wearing that stupid smile. “You seem delightful.”

My face grows hot. Blood pounds heavy in my ears, and I feel like I’m running anew. I’m so angry I cannot think.

And apparently, I don’t think—because I take another step closer.

The rest of the world slides away. It’s just me and this loathsome beautiful heinous man in a secluded corner of a strange coffee shop.

He towers over me, lithe and angled, face limned in shadow. He’s unflinching and returns my gaze with equal distaste.

My heart skitters wildly, stumbling one beat over the next like it knows it's been spotted by something with sharp claws and jagged teeth.

In the unclosed space between us, a glittery treacherous thing ripples.

I am suddenly very glad for bookshelves.

I should leave. I should go to my interview before I do something I will regret. Before I ruin everything. I should walk away.

Then, I do the opposite of that.

“I’m the farthest thing from delightful,” I tell him, shooting a dagger-filled glare from beneath the hood of my brow. “Which is why I’d strongly advise against getting in my way again. And don’t call me sunshine.”

Something smells familiar; like a forest in winter. Like cedarwood and myrrh. With a jolt, I realise it’s him and dig my nails into the meat of my palm.

He chuckles, raising his hands in defence. “Fine,” he says. “Won’t happen again. But at least come with me. I think I can help.” He juts his chin toward the back of the coffee shop, presumably towards the toilets.

I wrinkle my nose.

This can’t seriously be some kind of come-on. I don’t have time for unsolicited advances right now. I don’t even have time for solicited advances.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I spit, and he flinches. “First, you give me third-degree burns. What’s next? Chop me up in the alley out back?”

The corner of his mouth twitches slightly. “As appealing as that sounds,” he says. “I’m shit with knives.”

“Oh, that’s a comfort.”

“Better with fabric, though.” He gives an unbothered shrug. “I was going to offer to get that out for you.” The man nods, seemingly unfazed, at my chest. Heat rises in my cheeks again.

“You’ve done enough already,” I snap.

Maybe I’ll just wear my winter coat through the whole cursed interview. Even that would be a better solution than this conversation.

I turn on my heel to leave, but the man catches my wrist.

Bad move, I think.

I’m contemplating dragging him out of this alcove by the ear so I can punch him in front of every customer in this coffee shop when, to my surprise, he lets go.

The man rakes a hand through his dark curls, heaving a great sigh.

“Wait. Just...” he starts. “Look, I feel bad enough as is. Let me make it up to you. It’ll take five minutes. You’ll only be a little late to your interview, and you won’t have to deal with a dry cleaner’s bill.”

I snort. I haven’t been able to afford dry cleaning since I stopped living in Madoc’s house two years ago. I will likely have to throw this shirt away if I can’t get the stain out with a good old-fashioned scrubbing.

“I’ll buy you a coffee for your troubles while we wait.”

I consider him for a moment. He seems sincere enough, though attractive people always seem sincere, even when they are truly not.

Now, though, I don’t really have much left in me to care.

I want the stain out of my blouse, a vat of coffee in my system, and a teleportation device that can transport me to the sixth floor of the Silhouette immediately.

If this man is a willing rung in the ladder to get me even two-thirds of those things, I will consider it a blessing.

“Fine,” I say, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I’ll take a large cappuccino. Extra shot of espresso. And a shot of caramel. To go.”

“Wonderful.” The dazzling man smiles his dazzling smile. “Follow me.” And with that, he leads the way out of the alcove, a gleeful bound in his step.

I already regret my decision.

☽☽☽☽☽

Part II 

Masterlist 

AO3

Tag List: @the-mithridatism-of-jude-duarte @velarhysismine @knifewifejude

AN: this was originally sent to me as a request for the prompt “I’m running late to an important interview/meeting and you accidentally spill your hot cocoa all over my outfit” from a winter prompt list. but it spiralled into several chapter outlines and an almost fully-fledged plot so i’m rolling with it.

anyway, thanks so much for reading! hope you enjoyed :) if you’d like to be tagged in future updates for this AU, feel free shoot me an ask/message.

a few disclaimers:

1. i don’t think publishing is boring! i’m technically trying to go into publishing for my career so really just poking fun at myself. but i do think jude would find publishing (or any other office job) incredibly boring.

2. the depiction of jude’s panic attack is provided by yours truly, though i do not claim to speak for everyone who gets them, and am aware that they differ in both manifestation and severity from person to person. this just pertains to my own experience.

3. i was definitely listening to slow burn by kacey musgraves while writing part of this lmao (hence the chapter name).

[doctordeathlymittens]

Some thoughts about Wonder Woman 1984

I know I’m super late to the party here. This movie hasn’t casted the barest shadow of its mediocrity on my mind since it came out, but I’ve tumbled ass over teakettle down a youtube depression hole and I’ve climbed out with some thoughts and opinions about what I think would’ve been better ideas. Anyway, here’s my very loose, vague, and messy WW84 rewrite. 

First things first: There wasn’t nearly enough decade-appropriate needle drops in this whole damn movie. Where’s Heart? Lita Ford?? Joan Jett??? Bonnie Tyler’s ‘Holding out for a Hero’ was released in ‘84, y’all had so many iconic options by female performers and chose one song from Duran Duran and Frankie goes to Hollywood. This movie was too damn long to just have those two songs.

Diana’s internal conflict is her loneliness and self-isolation. She still mourns not only the loss of Steve Trevor, but the loss of her friends from her time in WWI (alongside the pictures of Steve in her apartment are newspaper clippings from the obituaries of Sameer, Napi, and Charlie and the letters they exchanged over the years) and her family on Themyscira (Diana spends most of her free time among ancient Geek relics and artifacts because while they didn’t belong to her people, they’re the only things that remind her of home). Diana has not healed from her grief and has built up walls around her heart because she doesn’t want to be hurt when she has to watch the connections and relationships she makes with people wither and die.

Diana and Barbara should become genuine friends, Barbara should not become the Cheetah in this film. I would kill and die for a meet-cute where Diana (not Wonder Woman) saves Barbara from a minor accident, Diana brushes off her gratitude and goes to work at the museum and lo and behold Dr. Barbara Ann Minerva shows up as her new coworker. Barbara again expresses her gratitude and tries to get to know her as her peer, but Diana responds coldly and ultimately lashes out at her on the anniversary of Steve’s death. Barbara stands up to Diana and calls her out for being a dick to her. Diana apologizes (because she’s allowed to be wrong and emotionally messy in this fantasy movie) and offers to buy her lunch to make up for it. While together Barbara tells Diana that she’s been having trouble making friends and connecting to people since she moved, even at work as her academic interests are niche and rather intense. So niche, that even Diana, the immortal Amazon, isn’t familiar. Diana again apologizes and opens up about why she had lashed out and acknowledges her own loneliness. Barbara tells Diana that she can tell her about Steve or her family if it makes her feel better and Diana asks Barbara about her research. Subsequent scenes at the museum show Barbara and Diana spending a lot of time with each other. Diana starts showing a little jealousy when Barbara gains romantic attention from a male peer.

Maxwell Lord shouldn’t be the main antagonist (but should remain in the film as an antagonist because Pedro Pascal), the immortal witch Circe should definitely be the villain. Circe’s inclusion could work better as she is another immortal, powerful woman who has tangled with the gods, but came out of the years of conflict hardened and self-serving. She exemplifies the mentality of ‘nothing else matters as long as I get mine’, which would work well in tandem with Maxwell Lord as long as it’s clear that she considers herself second to none. Circe and Lord would function as a toxic relationship where they played each other to gain economic and political power where Circe would ultimately come out on top because Lord’s humiliation was icing on the cake of her actual goals: the destruction of Themyscira and killing Queen Hippolyta. Why? Because Circe is the pettiest mf to ever walk the earth. Circe uses Lord to make her plays because she knows that men will only listen to other men. She sets him up to fail and be taken down by Wonder Woman, cleanly passing the blame from her to WW (setting up a better written future conflict between the two). Circe would watch his downfall over caviar and champagne on a private jet on her way to meet up with the multinational naval force she’s acquired.

The final conflict is a cat and mouse game between Circe and WW across the naval ships with Circe putting as many enchanted soldiers between her and WW as she possibly can while keeping the ships on track for the island. In the climax of the film and nearing Themyscira, Circe tries trapping Diana in an illusion with Steve and her mother and Antiope living happily, but Diana has grown emotionally. She’s no longer weighed down by her grief and loss, but is filled with bittersweet happiness at seeing her loved ones again. She gets to say goodbye. With that she’s able to break free of the illusion and confront Circe one final time. It’s a massive struggle between Circe wrathfully throwing everything she has against Diana and Diana just trying to talk her down and survive while saving who she can from the sinking ships, deflecting Circe’s spells with her gauntlets (because why not?). In the conflict, Diana realizes that Circe isn’t just a sorceress, but another Amazonian as well, the first to be banished, the first to be abandoned. Diana reflects Circe’s last attempt at illusion back at her. While she’s momentarily lost in her own spell, Diana immobilizes her with her lasso. Circe breaks down under the weight of what her illusion showed and her loss. Diana, in an act of compassion and recognition of who she almost allowed herself to be, embraces Circe as the ship sinks (fuck it, its raining too).

Diana and Circe wash ashore Themyscira along with the debris of their battle. Diana wakes to blinding sunlight blocked by a crowned figure, her mother standing over her, backed by a dozen armed Amazonians (”I remember something like this from a different angle.”). Hippolyta helps her daughter up, both overjoyed and furious to see her (”You have brought strangers to my shores again, daughter...and an outcast.” Diana is just happy to hear her call her ‘daughter’ again). Queen Hippolyta orders her soldiers to take Circe away as ‘she clearly can’t be handled by the world of men’ and sits on the shoreline with her daughter. She asks Diana if she’s been living happily out there in the world. Diana responds “No, but I think I’m starting to.” Diana acknowledges that she knows she cannot stay, but asks to see Antiope’s grave before she goes. Her mother nods with a smile and says “My love, I don’t believe you wish to stay.” In the quiet solitude of Antiope’s gravesite, Diana hugs her mother one last time. Fade to black, roll credits.

Mid-credit scene: Diana is being sent off more officially by her mother and the people of Themyscira. As she and Hippolyta walk. back down to the beach, Diana notices there’s no boat. Hippolyta says that with all the advances of man, she thought there was a better option than a small boat among those metal moving islands. The wind blows on queue, highlighting the shape of an invisible jet. “It washed ashore shortly after you did. We made some improvements.”

After-credit scene: Barbara is working in Diana’s office. Diana is still on vacation (in the middle of the ocean) and it’s obvious Barbara misses her. A parcel delivery serviceman knocks on the open door. He asks for Dr. Prince. Barbara says she isn’t in, but she’ll sign for it for her. He hands her a small wooden crate. Barbara pries it open, plucking an elegantly inked letter from the packing straw. ‘Big fan of your work, thought this would look lovely among your personal collection.’ Barbara digs through the box, finding a dark stone carved head of a cheetah with shining yellow-gem eyes. Barbara stares at the artifact for an uncomfortably long beat. She blinks and shakes herself from the trance. She leaves the note and the head on Diana’s desk and leaves with the empty box. The camera lingers on the artifact. It crumbles to dust.

[winterisakiller]

Little Changes

Title: Little Changes

One Shot: 1/1

Character: Tom Hiddleston/Allie Thompson (OFC)

Genre: romance/angst

Rating: G

Summary:  Everything in her life had changed so suddenly. One moment she was trying to juggle her work life with the long distance strain of a still very new and tentative relationship. The next she was sitting in the bathroom staring blankly at a small pink plus sign and trying to remember how to breathe. Panic had been one of the first things that registered. Things with Tom were still so new. So tentative. They’d been together barely seven months. Too soon. Way, way too soon.

Authors Notes/Warnings: This was written for @redfoxwritesstuff 500 follower writing challenge. My prompt was “I’m pregnant.” I set out initially thinking I’d run this prompt with Tom and Cath from Brave Face but the more I thought on it, the more I realized it would be the perfect opportunity to revisit Tom and Allie from my fic for @babylevines 4k challenge Perfectly Imperfect. I always intended on coming back to these two and this challenge felt like the perfect opportunity. A great big shout out to @nonsensicalobsessions who was my second set of eyes on this fic and my sounding board. You’ve been such an amazing help and I cannot thank you enough!

Tag list: @tinchentitri @noplacelikehome77 @theheartofpenelope @blacksuitofdoom @wolfsmom1 @messy-insomniac-bookgirl @just-the-hiddles​ @theoneanna​ @hiddlescastle​ @nonsensicalobsessions​  @echantedbytwh @alexakeyloveloki @sabine-leo

Allie Thompson felt the strap of her carryon bag dig into the palm of her hand as she let her eyes roam over the customs hall at JFK. The large room was filled nearly to the brim with tired, bored, and antsy people, all waiting in a queue that seemed never ending. She cursed herself yet again for not buying a rolling carryon. Never thought you’d need it, did you, Thompson?

 The trip had been impulsive. Stupidly, recklessly impulsive. Allie had to keep reassuring herself that she was only taking up Tom’s offer to have her come and see him (and the city). In the nearly two months since he’d come New York he’d tried everything he could seemingly think of to convince Allie to throw caution to the wind and stay with him, if only for a short while. And each and every time she’d turned him down. Not out of a lack of desire (she missed him far more than she was willing to admit to anyone least of all herself), but for various (and frustratingly valid as far as she was concerned) reasons. The office was short staffed, she’d just gotten a promotion at work and asking for the time off wouldn’t reflect well on her next appraisal, the flight was more than she could afford at the time (despite saving up what she could out of each pay).

 Tom had offered, repeatedly, to let him pay her airfare and each time Allie told him she couldn’t accept. It was pride more than anything which kept her from doing so, they both knew it, but more than that, she didn’t feel right having him spend money on her. Not that much. Not when she couldn’t repay him for such generosity. It didn’t feel right, taking his money no matter how freely he seemed to offer it. Allie knew that Tom suspected that was a large part of her refusal and hadn’t fought her on it. At least not as much as she knew he wanted to; she could hear it plainly in his voice each time they spoke.

 Now here she was, standing in this stupidly long queue wondering for the thousandth time if she was making a horrid mistake in coming. Her back twinged irritatingly and she rocked herself back and forth on the balls of her feet hoping to ease some of the tension. Why hadn’t she thought to throw her heating pad into her bag before she’d left? Thank god she hadn’t gotten sick on the plane; the frequent nausea and vomiting that had taken over her life in the last few weeks had been bad enough in the privacy of her flat or the toilets at work. On a speeding metal tube in what felt like a coffin...The idea didn’t bear thinking.

 Everything in her life had changed so suddenly. One moment she was trying to juggle her work life with the long distance strain of a still very new and tentative relationship. The next she was sitting in the bathroom staring blankly at a small pink plus sign and trying to remember how to breathe. Panic had been one of the first things that registered. Things with Tom were still so new. So tentative. They’d been together barely seven months. Too soon. Way, way too soon.

 The next thing she’d done once the shock and panic had worn off was call the local family clinic and book an appointment for bloodwork and the necessary testing. Before she brought Tom’s world to a halt, she had to be certain it wasn’t a fluke. They’d been able to fit her in the following day, for which she’d been grateful. Her manager had let her have the morning off after commenting she’d looked a bit peaky regardless.

 Sitting on the crinkled paper that covered the cushioned exam table, Allie felt her stomach roil. She’d only half listened to the information the doctor discussed with her; taking in that she was indeed pregnant and a little over three months gone. She’d taken the paper the doctor had handed her along with the packet of vitamins with shaking hands. This was real. It was happening and even with the paperwork in hand Allie still couldn’t make sense of it.

 With an air of calm which she didn’t fully feel, Allie had made her way home and grabbed the luggage she’d bought for a holiday she’d taken with friends years back and packed the first pieces of clothing her hands touched. She wasn’t sure when she’d made the conscious decision to tell him in person (this wasn’t something she felt could be done over the phone no matter how she feared the potential outcome) but somewhere between her leaving the clinic and walking up the stairs to her flat, she’d known.  

 The phone call to Luke hadn’t been as awkward as she’d feared. They’d met a few times and had gotten on well enough. He’d been quite up front with her about the realities of being in a relationship with someone like Tom and made sure she understood more or less what she was potentially getting herself into. With the same breath he welcomed her to the madness. She found she liked his frankness and how he clearly cared for Tom not just as a client but as a friend. Luke had been all too eager to help her arrange her impromptu trip, making sure Tom’s people in New York were aware of her pending arrival. She’d asked him to make sure Tom didn’t know she was coming. Luke had laughed, “This is going to be such a fantastic surprise for him, you don’t want to know how much he’s been whinging about missing you.”

 Allie had laughed along with Luke, ignoring the twisting in her gut. It would certainly be a surprise but she hadn’t a clue if either Tom or Luke (when push came to shove, Luke would need to be told and that was nearly as terrifying as telling Tom) would consider it a good one. Pushing those thoughts aside she’d booked a nonstop flight from Heathrow to JFK and cleared the week she’d need with her boss (which hadn’t been the most pleasant conversation).

 The flight had thankfully been uneventful though she’d hardly slept the entire way. And not for lack of trying. Her mind wouldn’t seem to shut off, playing over and over again the various (and most often unpleasant) reaction awaiting her in New York. The lack of sleep was something she was most certainly paying for now. God, what she wouldn’t give for a hot shower and sleep. But that she feared would not be for a long while yet.

 What felt like hours later, Allie found herself at the front of the queue handing her passport to the stony-faced customs agent and answering the questions asked of her. Who was she here to see? Her boyfriend (the word still felt odd) who was working in the States. How long would she be staying? Maybe a week. She waited with baited breath as the agent looked first at her, then at the passport before stamping it and handing it back to her with a monotone,  “Welcome to New York.”

 Stamped passport in hand, she made her way towards the baggage claim. Once she’d grabbed her rolling case (and made a mad dash for the nearest toilet, the nausea had decided now would be a spectacular time to make its reappearance. Thank god she’d kept the amenity kit in her purse so she could clean her teeth after), Allie made her way into the arrivals hall proper and scanned the crowd. Luke had insisted on setting up transport from the airport to Tom’s temporary dwelling and despite a string of protests refused to budge on the issue. The man was just as, if not more, stubborn than Tom and fighting him on anything was nothing short of an exercise in futility.

 She spotted a tall man dressed in a pair dark trousers, matching jacket, and white button-up shirt holding a sign bearing her name standing towards the back of the waiting crowd. He smiled politely at her as she approached and offered to take her bags. Allie thought for a moment of protesting but banished the thought almost at once. The man (whose name was Frank, she’d learned later) was simply doing his job and she had no right to make it difficult for him to do so (even if she was quiet capable of wrangling her own baggage). Quietly, the pair made their way from the noisy hall and out into the bright sunlight of the afternoon. She was ushered into the waiting black SUV as Frank took her luggage round the back and placed it in the boot.

 The car was quite nice, Allie noted with a tired sigh as she settled herself onto the supple leather of the backseat. Far nicer than the battered Nissan Micra she had back home; a holdover from her university days that she’s scrimped and saved for. It wasn’t much to look at but it was reliable and that was honestly all that mattered. She hardly used it anyhow, mainly just when she left the city to visit family or simply escape from the hustle and bustle of it all. She rested her head back against the smooth headrest and allowed her eyes to flutter closed. God, she was tired. Just a few moments, she told herself. I’ll just rest my eyes for a few moments.

 Allie jolted awake at the feel of a hand on her shoulder. Blinking in confusion, she let her gaze roam over her surroundings; the dimly lit interior of an SUV and the sounds of a city echoing from its opened door. New York, her brain finally chimed in. I’m in New York. Tom. And just like that she was suddenly awake. The familiar nerves roared to life once more as just why she’d come flooded back into her conscious thoughts.

 “Sorry,” she murmured to Frank who’d gotten out of the car and come around to wake her. “I must have dozed off.”

 “It’s fine,” he answered with a knowing smile, “You looked like you needed it.”

 Allie nodded quietly and slid from the backseat out onto the pavement. Her eyes drifted upwards, taking in the buildings surrounding them. She’d seen New York countless times in films and on television but it was quite odd actually being there. The building they’d parked beside was massively tall, covered in faded tan brick, painted brick she noted on closer inspection. The glass door reflected the bright sunlight, obscuring her view inside. Smiling softly, she took the handle of her bag, which Frank had placed beside her and took a deep breath before following him inside.

 She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the lobby. The wheels of her checked bag echoed as they rolled across the tiled floor towards the lifts at the far end of the hall. The wall beside the door lined with several metal letter boxes each labeled with what Allie assumed were flat numbers. She’d known from her various calls with Tom that rather than staying in a hotel for the duration of the play, he’d opted at renting a furnished flat in a building close enough to the theater to be walkable but far enough away that it hopefully would be off of most enthusiastic fans radars. While a hotel would be more convenient in terms of cleaning and meals (there was certainly something to be said about room service, he’d confessed), having his own space and privacy won out. And she was eternally grateful for that now. Especially if things ended badly. Less prying eyes and whispered voices in a private dwelling. More of a chance she could make a quiet, dignified retreat if needed.

 Shaking the negative thoughts away, Allie followed Frank into the lift. They arrived on the tenth floor moments later and she allowed him to lead the way towards a darkly stained wooden door at the end of the hall. Frank pulled a key from his pocket and made swift work of the lock, pushing the door open. Sunlight poured in through the opened curtains, flooding the flat with bright light. He stood aside to let her enter, handing her the key as she passed.

 “This is yours for the time being. He should be back sometime in the next hour or so. Make yourself at home.” He smiled and took his leave.

 Allie closed the door firmly behind him, locked it, and leant back against it, taking a deep breath. She was here and now all she could do was wait for his return. With effort, she pushed herself up and allowed herself to glance around the flat’s open planned living room stroke kitchen. It was minimally, but comfortably, furnished with richly stained wooden tables and an inviting black fabric couch. Books lined the coffee and side tables and pendant lighting hung down from the ceiling. The room wasn’t terribly tidy; there were a pair of trainers laying haphazardly on their side near the short hallway which she assumed led on to the sleeping area and bathroom and various bits and bobs scattered over the backs of chairs. Several toys she recognized as Bobby’s lay strewn across the wooden floor.

 The kitchen was small, but functional. Bright white uppers paired with darker base cabinets and a neutral stone countertop. There was a stainless steel gas range with a matching microwave above and a large fridge beside it. The sink was deep and stainless steel as well. A coffee press and toaster were arranged against the back of the counter alongside a small electric kettle. Allie chuckled softly to herself as her eyes lingered on the bowl and mug left sitting on the counter next to the sink.

 Leaving her bags tucked beside the couch, Allie made her way into the kitchen and set to tidying up. It was silly, and something she knew she absolutely did not need to do, but it gave her something to do with her hands and seemed to quiet the small, nagging voice of doubt in her head. She cleaned when she felt anxious or uneasy; Allie couldn’t say why other than it gave her something she could have control over. Tom seemed to find it amusing, stating he knew when something was up by how spotless her place was…And sometimes by how spotless his was.

 Allie let out a quiet groan; Tom would know in an instant something wasn’t quite right, even through the shock of her surprise arrival. Even distracted, Tom was sharp when it came to detail. It was part of what made him so damned good at his chosen field. However, there was nothing to do for it now. Setting to work, Allie grabbed the plate and mug, placing them in the sink and turning on the hot tap. She had to rummage to find the washing up liquid and a sponge; how it had managed to get wedged in the very back of the cupboard under the sink she’d never understand. From there she let herself get lost in the heat of the water and the repetitiveness of the task.

 Once the dishes were cleaned and put away, she forced herself to walk back into the living room and settle on the couch. Ignoring the temptation to straighten, if only for its ability to help her keep hold of her nerves, Allie forced herself instead to pick up the remote from the top off the darkly stained wooden coffee table and turn on the television. There wasn’t a great deal to choose from, which wasn’t surprising given it was early afternoon in the middle of the week, a handful of daytime chat shows and several daytime dramas. Sighing, she settled on one of the chat shows not caring overmuch what was happening on screen. She half listened as the women settled around a table chatting about the latest bit of celebrity news, her eyes drifting shut once more. Gods above, she was tired.

 The sound of a key turning in the lock jolted Allie awake. She sat bolt upright on the couch, blinking rapidly at the disorientation before, and quickly switched off the television, dropping the remote back onto the table. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face the door. Through the thick wood she could hear Bobby’s muffled barks and the soothing timbre of Tom’s voice in response. She felt her heart hammering in her chest as she watched the knob turn and the door push slowly open.

 A blur of brown swept into the apartment, loud barks echoing as the spaniel darted inside and towards Allie. He buried his face into her knees before bouncing up and attempting to bury her face in kisses.

 Startled, Tom rushed in yelling, “What in the world…” His voice trailed off as his eyes settled on Allie laughing and squirming on the couch beneath an overly excited Bobby.

 Pushing the spaniel off, Allie locked her eyes on Tom’s wide, startled gaze. “Hi,” she whispered, pushing her hair out of her face to see him clearly.

 “You’re here,” Tom breathed, taking several slow steps into the flat, letting the door swing closed behind him. “You’re actually here.”

 Allie nodded. “I’m here.”

 Tom dropped the bag he’d been carrying on his shoulder to the floor and launched himself at her, a wide smile on his face. With a yelp of startlement, Allie fell backwards onto the couch, Tom’s warm weight pressing her firmly into the cushions. She let out a breathless laugh as she found herself wrapped tightly in his arms. He pressed his lips to her forehead, her cheeks, and finally her lips. Bobby, who’d backed quickly out of the way as his master seemed to take leave of his senses, barked happily before jumping up beside them on the couch and licking both of their faces.

 Pulling back and laughing, Tom shooed the spaniel away. “Enough you furry menace. Off the couch.”  

 Bobby blinked up at Tom before complying with begrudging grace and padding to his own doggy bed. He grabbed the red, stuffed toy that lay beside the bed and chewed it while watching them with wide, sad eyes.

 Tom shook his head, pulling himself up into a sitting position and turned his attention immediately back towards Allie who did the same. “I can’t believe you’re actually here. When did you…Why didn’t you say you were coming?”

 Allie pulled back, feeling the familiar dread cooling once more in her stomach. She crossed her arms in front of her. “It was kind of a last minute thing,” she answered, honestly. “I called Luke and…”

 Tom let out a short, loud laugh and shook his head. “No wonder the wanker looked so smug this morning…He knew you’d be here.”

 She shrugged. “I asked him not to say anything.”

 “And he certainly didn’t,” Tom laughed. “I hadn’t the faintest idea.” He pulled Allie tightly against him and kissed her head once more. “I’m so happy you’re here,” he repeated again and she could feel his smile against her hair. “I’ve missed you.”

 “I missed you too.”

 And she had, desperately. It felt wonderful, being in his arms again. The comforting heat and weight of him against her was like coming home. It scared her, just how much this man had come to mean to her in such a relatively short amount of time. And now…

 Reluctantly, Allie pulled back reaching up to take Tom’s hands in her own. It was tempting, sorely tempting to say nothing…Just for a little while. To bask in the simple joy of being back with the man she loved. However, she knew it would only be delaying the inevitable. He needed to know, whatever the outcome. Any delaying techniques would be just that, it wouldn’t fix or change anything.

 Tom met her eyes, confusion shining steadily in his own at her second disengagement in just as many minutes. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

 Allie swallowed against the lump in her throat. She’d spent most of the flight over thinking of just what to say; how to tell him that in a few short months there would be another person in their lives. Over and over again, she had agonized over her wording, her timing, his reaction. All of it. And it wasn’t as if she feared he’d lose it completely and chuck her out, she’d known Tom well enough to understand he wouldn’t do something like that, but that didn’t mean he’d embrace the news with open arms.

 The timing was terrible; he had projects lined up well into the following year. How could he possibly juggle the demands of impending fatherhood when he’d barely be around? How could she ask him to? They’d only been together seven months, and the last two of those there had been an ocean between them. There we so many reasons for this to be the thing that would sink them; Allie knew that. Having a baby didn’t guarantee a successful relationship or a relationship in general. Tom could very easily walk away, she didn’t think he would deny the child, but he could choose to minimize his presence in their lives. And while Allie knew she could, and would, handle raising this child on her own if she had to, it wasn’t ideal. She wanted Tom to be involved, to be beside her through it all. The ball was ever so firmly in his court with this and it terrified her.

 “Allie,” Tom pleaded, reaching down to take her hand and squeezing her hands with his own. “Talk to me, please. Whatever it is we’ll mange it. Talk to me.”

 He sounded so sure, so confident, and she wanted nothing more than to believe him. But the fear was still there, still clinging to her like a second skin.

 She swallowed hard, shutting her eyes tightly before raising them to his once more. “I’m pregnant.”

 The words fell from her lips in almost a whisper. Had it not been for the way his eyes widened at the words or his slackened grip, Allie could have convinced herself he hadn’t heard them. She pulled her hands back into her lap and fought the urge to stare down at them rather than at Tom.

 “You’re pregnant?” Tom whispered, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. A silence, which felt as if it were choking the life from her. His words did little to calm the racing of her heart. The tone of them wasn’t censorious nor were they exactly welcoming. Unease and disappoint roared within her.  

 Allie nodded, not trusting her voice.

 “Pregnant,” he murmured again, as if he were trying to make sense of it. Another long pause before he uttered, “How far?”

 Her eyes fell from his.

 “A little over three months,” she answered, “according to the scans.” Her hand rested unconsciously against her abdomen and she could feel his eyes on her. She couldn’t raise her own to meet them. She didn’t want to see the disapproval or disappointment in them. Too soon. This is all too soon.

 “So just before…” His voice trailed off.

 The last few weeks before he’d headed to New York had been filled with stolen moments. At his place. At hers. There had been something to the idea that it could be months before she would get to touch him, to feel him, that had driven Allie (and Tom it seemed) to what felt like desperation. They’d been careful, or so she’d thought. Clearly they hadn’t been careful enough. She wondered idly just when they’d slipped up and if he was wondering as well.

 Allie nodded. “Yes.”

 Tom ran a hand through his shaggy hair but didn’t say anything further. She took a deep breath, steeling herself. “The timing is horrendous, I know. And I get that it’s way too soon and neither of us are ready for this…” She was rambling and she knew it but the need to explain was overwhelming her ability to think and speak rationally. “You don’t have to be involved, I won’t think ill of you for not…”

 Tom’s hand rested firmly on her knee, silencing her. He took a slow, deep breath before speaking. “Do you want this?”

 She blinked at him, the words not making any sort of sense to her already sleep-starved, panicked mind. “Wha-what?” She stammered back, confusion coloring her tone, “I don’t know what…”

 He squeezed her knee with a firm gentleness she hadn’t expected. “Having a baby is a big thing,” he started, his eyes locked on her face as if he were studying her. “It’s life changing. For you more than anything. Yes, the timing isn’t ideal for either of us. And I know that you’re scared of what I’m thinking and feeling. But Allie…I don’t want you to worry about what you think I want or what anyone else will say. This is, first and foremost, your life and as such it is your choice. I will respect whatever it is you want. So please tell me,” Tom locked his eyes on hers. “Allie, do you want this?”

 A million different thoughts flooded through her mind. She was scared; scared she wasn’t ready, scared she’d be a crap mum, scared he’d walk away and she’d be left alone. But along with that fear was the small, bright, stubborn fragment of hope. She wanted this baby, wanted Tom to want it too. Even though this couldn’t have happened at a worse time. Sense, it seemed, mattered not. She wanted this. Wanted it fiercely.

 Wordlessly, she nodded.

 Tom’s face split into a warm, bright smile and he reached out, placing his hand gently against the, as of yet, non-existent curve of her abdomen. “We’re having a baby.”

 Allie laughed, feeling her eyes prickle with relieved tears. “We are.”

 “Oh god,” Tom breathed, his voice breaking with soft laughter, “Luke is going to murder me.”

[isthisthingeven0n]

trying to stay private : m.k

brief summary: you’re a famous actress and are dating matt. you two have been together for almost a year under the radar and intend on keeping it that way. that is until david accidently captures you both and includes it in his vlog

word count: 1.7k requested: yes, by the sweetheart that is @florencxs - i hope you like it baby warnings: lotta angst, but a fluffy ending

* masterlistin’ / masterlistin’ 2.0

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it isn’t me. all rights reserved. - i have to start doing this as I had some shit on my other blog with plagiarism)

***

It was always your intention to keep your relationship under the radar. Both of you were still enjoying the privilege of having alone time and it actually means you could be alone- as opposed to a series of paparazzi following your every move.

With Matt, you could forget that side of your life for a little while. You’re able to live in the moment instead of watching your every move. With Matt, you feel safe and secure knowing you can just be yourselves and not pose for cameras.

At least, you could until David found out.

He came over to film a bit for his vlog, that’s all it was supposed to be and you were more than happy to help. Since you met Matt, it meant you spent more time with his friends and slowly, they became your friends too. None of them treated you differently, you weren’t on a pedestal with them. You could simply be yourself without fear that one of them would capture a photo and post it.

David was filming his bit in your hallway, listening as you sang to yourself in the kitchen. “This is nice.” David mutters to himself, motioning to the shelf displaying various awards you’ve won over the course of your career so far.

Not long after the bit had been filmed, you heard the door open and Matt walked in. You let out a sigh of relief, knowing it was only him. “You’re not filming, right?”

Turning around to face you, David shakes his head as you relax in Matt’s arms. “I know the drill, don’t worry.” David states, holding one hand up as a smile crosses his face. “Like I get it.” He adds and you nod in response, feeling Matt squeeze you lightly.

“We can trust David, don’t worry Y/n.” Matt comforts you as he releases you from his embrace and wanders into the kitchen. “Are those cookies I smell?” He asks with a smile, glancing back as you nod along.

“Your favourite, of course.” You tell him as he spots them all laid out on a plate alongside another script.

As Matt picks a cookie up, his eyes wander to the script as he raises an eyebrow. “Another one, huh?” He asks you as David walks in, his camera in hand but he rests it on the counter- a sign to inform you he isn’t filming.

You run your fingers through your hair before you take a cookie, and David does the same as you take a seat opposite Matt. “Yeah, my agent thinks this one would be a good role.” You state half-heartedly. “I just don’t know if it’s for me.”

“What’s it about?” David speaks up in a muffled voice as he chews on his cookie, causing you to smile.

“I can’t go into detail, but my role would be the villain.” You say and you watch as their eyes widen. “I know, I know, so unlike me.” You laugh lightly and Matt shakes his head.

“Honey, this will be insane for you!” He cannot stop his smile from growing in excitement as his hand reaches out for yours. “It’ll make you a more diverse actress, how can you say no?”

You sigh quietly, glancing down at the script. “I’ll be away filming in England for a year.” You state.

Matt remains quiet, having heard the catch to the deal of a lifetime.

“I think I’ll leave you two to it.” David mutters as he picks up another cookie before grabbing his camera. “Thanks for letting me film, see you guys later.” He calls out as he lets himself out, leaving you and Matt alone to discuss this.

“I know what you’re thinking,” You speak up, lifting your eyes to see him focusing on the marble counter. “and I know, it’s a crazy offer but what if I don’t take it?”

“Y/n, you think I’m going to stop you?” He asks you sincerely. “I’m never going to stop supporting you, even if it means you’re in England filming. I’ll come and visit you because I know you’re doing something amazing that’ll impact your career.” He rambles on, unaware of how your heart is close to bursting out of your chest. “Honey, are you okay?” Matt speaks up, snapping you from your thoughts as you sniff lightly.

Rising to your feet, you walk over and sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. “This is one of the many reasons why I love you, Matt.” You tell him before kissing him softly.

“You never cease to amaze me, Y/n.” He says with a light laugh. “And for that, I’ll always love you back.”

*

You sit, watching the world pass you by as you sit back and finish memorising your lines. It’s hard to believe how quickly the time has flown by since you accepted the role to the directors wanting you to fly out. In a matter of weeks, here you are nearly landing in Heathrow airport.

As the plane lands and you descend from the plane through the airport, you’re met by your security. “Ma’am, I’ve been advised to tell you that you need to check your phone.” He states seriously, causing you to raise an eyebrow as you pull out your phone.

All you can see are thousands of notifications about Matt, all of them about you and Matt.

“Fuck.” You almost yell as you bring your hands up to your face. “How did this happen?!” You turn to your team, looking at them as they all share worried looks. “We were so careful, who leaked this?” You pull up the photo that caused this all.

It’s of you and Matt. You can tell them exactly where it is in your house. The shelf below your awards lies a shelf of photos of those you love. One of the photos happens to be of you and Matt during New Years just before the fireworks began.

“Y/n, you need to compose yourself because there are hundreds of paps waiting for you outside.” Your assistant, Tony speaks up. “If you need to know this very minute, David accidentally included it in a vlog.”

Your heart begins to break. “How?” You question bitterly, having felt all trust lost in a matter of seconds.

“In the vlog, he came to your house to film and included footage of your awards, how impressive it was. Obviously, some fans are super intentive and spotted the photo on the shelf underneath.” Tony explains as you groan loudly, crouching down to stop the tears spilling.

You take our your sunglasses from your bag, your team surrounding you. “Let’s just get this over with.” You tell them as you begin to exit the airport, ignoring the reporters and paparazzi as you reach the car and immediately dial Matt.

“Hello, Y/n?” He mumbles sleepily, the sound of his gentle voice capturing your heart in a cage. “Is everything okay?”

You sniff lightly, taking your glasses off. “Matt, everyone knows.” You tell him calmly, holding back your tears.

“What’d you mean, I, I how?” He stutters over his words, trying to comprehend how in the space of twelve hours everything has crumbled.

“David, he erm, included a clip where there was a photo of us in my hallway.” You state tiredly, feeling all of your emotions hanging by fine strings about to snap at the slightest disturbance.

“Fuck.” Matt mutters as you hear him shuffle from his bed. “Let me sort this out, okay?”

“What can you possibly do, Matt? It’s out, there’s nothing we can do to rectify this. My career is in jeopardy right now.” You’re yelling down the phone as tears fill your eyes. “I’m sorry.” You cry down the line, your body filled with exhaustion. “I’m just so tired and this is the last thing I expected to hear when I landed.”

Matt sighs quietly to you down the line. “Honey, it’ll be okay.” Matt tries to reassure you. “I love you, okay? Now, whatever happens, that isn’t going to change.” He tells you, causing a small smile to rise on your lips briefly. “Just, focus on work, leave this to me and David to sort out.”

“Are you sure, Matt?” You question, looking over at your team seeing all of them on their phones, dealing with being damage control. “My team has it under control for the best part.” You mutter to him, not wanting to interrupt them.

Sitting upright on his bed, Matt nods to himself. “I’ll speak to David, okay. Just, just go knock ‘em dead.” He tells you with a smile on his lips.

You laugh lightly down the line, wiping your eyes. “I love you, Matt.” You remind him, wishing he could be with you at this moment, knowing you want nothing more than to curl up into him.

“I love you too, Y/n. Now go on, I know you’ve got work to do.” He speaks clearly down the line as you glance out of the window, seeing rain gentle pattering onto the window. “Is that rain I hear?” He questions.

“Yeah,” You say with a half-laugh, “the first time I’ve seen it in months. More soothing than the California sunshine I’ll admit.” Your eyes don’t budge from the runs of rain connecting together, moving at a faster pace down the windows as you pass by queues of cars. “How is the heat back home?”

“Could be worse, but then again, you aren’t here to complain it’s too hot.” He jokes, causing you to roll your eyes and glance over at your assistant who taps her watch.

“Well, you better get used to me complaining it’s too cold and wet here without you, Matt.” You chuckle before you let out a small sigh. “I’ve got to go, but I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

“I’ll be ready and waiting sweetheart. Stay safe.” He speaks through a smile as he releases a heavy yawn down the phone.

“And you, speak soon.”

With that, you hang up the phone and shove it back into your bag as the car pulls up outside of the office. You can already see flashes from cameras and your name being shouted, but all you do is slip your sunglasses back on and wait for your cue to leave.

[liannyeong]

let me open my heart to you

Summary: the only thing she knows about him is the usual drink he orders at the cafe: iced americano.

Word count: 1974

Pairing: Jinyoung X OC

Warning(s): fluff

A/N: finally a jinyoung fic! i attempted a little humor... but this is trash so.... i hope you will still enjoy it? hahahaha

i.

it's stupid, hayoon thinks. she cannot even believe that she has a crush on a guy she has never properly talked to. the only thing she knows about him is the usual drink he orders at the cafe: iced americano. and that his name is jinyoung. he works as a trainer at a gym nearby, afternoons packed with classes. but other than that? not a single clue. so how the heck did hayoon harbor a crush on him? she doesn't even understand either. perhaps it's because of his cute smile, little crinkles forming around his eyes. or his handsome face, skin nearly flawless, as if he was chiseled from marble. or heck, he's got one hell of a body too -- not too muscular, not too skinny, just the right amount of fill... gosh, what the heck is she even thinking... nevertheless, it's stupid that she's crushing on someone without knowing his true personality. just because of his looks, really? gosh, wake up, hayoon. appearance goes nowhere.

but damn, she can't help herself. her heart feels a little lighter whenever the cafe opens. it's because jinyoung always comes to the cafe at 7, when the queues aren't long and the morning is still peaceful. he's always dressed in a plain t-shirt, tucked into ankle-length pants, a cap worn on his head. before he even comes in or says his order, hayoon already has his drink prepared for collection at the counter. jinyoung would always do his trademark eye whiskers smile, deep voice thanking her. then he sits at his usual spot -- the window seat directly in front of the counter. she doesn't get why he likes that place when it's the most exposed seat. but she doesn't complain. in fact, hayoon enjoys the fact that she has an unobstructed view of jinyoung reading a book. she reckons he's a fast reader, for he brings new books each week. she doesn't know what the man is reading, but it seems interesting for he's always focused, oblivious to the surroundings.

oh, just how lovely hayoon's daily life is.

---

ii.

but today... jinyoung's dressed in a white dress shirt, tucked into fitting pants. he has a pair of glasses on, his hair slicked back. he looks so dashing -- exactly like a prince charming described in fairytales. perhaps if she is cinderella, he would be her prince charming. but clearly she's no cinderella.

because jinyoung's got company. a girl as good looking as him, of course. her hair touches her shoulders, one side neatly tucked behind her ear. she's donned in a pretty beige dress, exuding feminine elegance.

gosh, they look as if they walked straight out of a romance novel, so ideally perfect in every way.

wait-- does this mean they're on a date...?

well, damn.

jinyoung ushers the girl to his usual seat, so gentlemanly, hayoon thinks she could have fallen harder for him. then, the man offers to buy the girl a drink. no, hayoon didn't eavesdrop at all. the cafe is just too quiet that even a single whisper is amplified.

hayoon gulps, desperately trying to compose herself when jinyoung comes to place his order. she can't let any emotion show on her face.

"the usual and an iced latte, please," jinyoung orders, slipping his card out of his wallet smoothly.

"name?" hayoon asks after the payment is successful, holding up an empty cup.

"yeeun."

hmph. a pretty name for a pretty face, she thinks to herself.

hayoon makes the order wordlessly, hands working like a muscle memory. jinyoung picks up their drinks from the collection counter and walks back to his usual seat. hayoon pretends to be busy cleaning or whatsoever but out of the corner of her eyes, she's actually watching the two. oh, just how sweet their interactions are...

sometime later, jinyoung holds up a napkin and dabs away some residue on the corner of yeeun's lips. the girl shies away, cheeks turning red, leaning back to wipe her mouth herself. jinyoung just smiles at her, the same crinkles only directed at the girl. the same smile that hayoon adores.

gosh, how much hayoon wishes jinyoung would look at her that way. at this thought, she averts her gaze. this isn't it. she shouldn't wish for such a thing. a crush is usually one-sided and is just as its name suggests -- a crush crushes hearts.

she should just be happy for jinyoung.

"who's that girl with jinyoung?" yien asks as he pops into the counter, having just came to work.

hayoon shrugs. "a girlfriend, i guess," she answers too curtly. it sounds as if she's bitter. which she's clearly not. totally.

"what? i didn't know he had a girlfriend," he says in disbelief. his brows are raised high, mouth agape.

"neither did i..." she mutters.

then hayoon hears yien chuckling at the side. he's tying his apron, but there's a playful smirk on his lips as he asks, "jealous?"

"who is? i know i'm not," hayoon mumbles.

yien laughs. he singsongs, "sure~"

hayoon glares at her colleague before glancing at the couple again. now they're just in their own world, chatting away happily, all giggly like high school teenagers in love.

she's totally not jealous.

---

iii.

now, yeeun tags along to the cafe whenever jinyoung does. as much as hayoon tries to suppress the feeling in her, she just can't. there's always a twinge. gosh, why can't she just be happy for jinyoung? it'll be so much easier if her heart would just give him up. maybe if she doesn't see him often... then maybe... that's it, her mind snaps. she shouldn't see jinyoung so much if she wants to get over him. she shouldn't see the couple if she doesn't want to feel like this. the lesser she sees, the lesser she knows.

so she decides to swap shifts with bambam much to his reluctance. he's afraid of having things thrown at him if he makes a mistake. yien is that scary, he argues. but she doesn't believe it. how can a sweet angel like yien even do violent things like that? so she insists, until bambam gives in.

and now, hayoon takes the afternoon shift. no more jinyoung. no more jinyoung and yeeun. she can finally forget him in peace.

---

iv.

ha ha, of course not. the person who she's trying to forget appears in the cafe in the late afternoon a few weeks later. alone. no yeeun in tow.

"hey," jinyoung greets at the counter, much to hayoon's surprise. she totally didn't expect to see him again. her brain nearly short-circuited.

"jinyoung... hey..." hayoon lets out slowly. "the usual...?"

the said man nods. as hayoon taps away on the cash registers, she feels the weight of his gaze. she tries to ignore it.

"so you're on the afternoon shift now," he says as a matter-of-factly.

hayoon gulps her spit, her mind trying to rack up some good excuse. "i was gonna tell you but i got busy... sorry. it slipped off my mind," she replies lamely.

jinyoung watches her with hawk-like eyes. as if he's assessing her answer. as if he doesn't believe it. it makes hayoon nervous.

but the man nods, and then, flashes his usual smile. "well, i know now."

jinyoung grabs his drink, takes a sip from it, a cheeky smile on his face before walking away.

"um... yeah. now you know..." hayoon mutters to herself. if jinyoung is gonna start coming in during her shift.... she's doomed.

---

v.

as expected, jinyoung starts coming to the cafe during her shift. what does he want, she doesn't even know. but now, jinyoung doesn't settle at his usual table. instead, he keeps trying to engage hayoon in a conversation over the counter. especially when she's in the midst of preparing his drink.

"why are you coming in at this hour? don't you have classes to teach?"

jinyoung shakes his head. "my schedule changed. i'm free on afternoons now."

hayoon hums in response. "i noticed you haven't come in with your girlfriend," she passes it off like a light remark.

at that comment, she doesn't notice jinyoung's stunned expression. if anything, she's too scared to look at his face.

"she... uh..." he stammers. "busy?"

the raised tone at the end has her a little confused. why is jinyoung so unsure of his own girlfriend's schedule? weird, she thinks. but she doesn't delve into it. she hands him his order and then proceeds to serve other customers.

---

vi.

jinyoung doesn't pop by for the next month. not that hayoon is counting. it's just weird that her routine is disrupted again. she doesn't try to mind it much. after all, it's just a pathetic crush. one that she has yet to get over with.

hayoon is busy cleaning up the cafe when there's a knock on the glass door. looking up, she sees jinyoung waving at her, a tight-lipped smile on his lips.

she walks over, pulls open the door and then says, amused, "you do know we're closed, right?"

"of course. but i just thought to pop by."

"whatever for? i'm just closing up the shop--"

"i'll help you out," he cuts, inviting himself in, much to hayoon's reluctance.

but it proves to be a great thing because she closes the shop earlier than usual. which means she can head home earlier and rest longer. as hayoon locks the cafe, she thanks jinyoung, saying, "your next drink will be on me."

"i don't want a drink," he replies.

"jinyoung, please. you helped me a lot today. i owe you a drink."

"i don't want a drink," he repeats, much to her confusion. she frowns.

"okay... a meal then?" hayoon offers.

"no," jinyoung shakes his head, cheeks a little pink. then a little softer, he says, "you owe me a date."

"huh," she lets out, more confused than ever. she scoffs. shaking her head, she disapproves, "ha ha, very funny, jinyoung. what will your girlfriend say?"

"but i don't-- i don't have a girlfriend?"

hayoon looks at him, bewildered. "um, did you forget about yeeun?"

jinyoung stares back at her. then he blurts, "she's not! she was just--" he sighs. "i just wanted to get a reaction out of you, that's all."

"what?"

"look, i-- the person i like is you, okay? not yeeun. it was a fake relationship, just to see how you would react."

it takes hayoon great control not to show any reaction. she maintains a blank expression though she desperately wants to jump for joy. "what makes you think i like you?"

jinyoung freezes, visibly pale. "huh... you... don't...?" he swallows his spit. "oh um-- well-- forget i said anything then!" he panics. then he mumbles softly to himself, "yien must have been playing with me..."

but hayoon's ears are sharp to capture the last sentence. she shrieks, "yien did what?!"

jinyoung has the audacity to look guilty. like a kicked puppy, its tail between its hind legs, he answers truthfully and slowly, "he may have told me that you may have feelings for me... and he may have suggested that i should try to make you jealous..."

hayoon stares at him in horror. damn yien. bambam was right. yien is one scary person. he's totally not an angel. a sly devil, that's what he is!

"i'm gonna kill that little piece of--" she mutters.

"so, um--" jinyoung breaks her monologue, watching her cautiously. "it's fine if you don't feel the same way, you know. i totally understand that. i was just--"

"you don't want to go on a date with me?" she cuts.

"what? no-- i mean, of course, i'd like to!" jinyoung's face is crimson now. how cute.

"okay then," hayoon nods, cheeks matching the color of his face, lips stretched so wide into a smile. "when are you free?"

[winterisakillerwrites]

Little Changes

Title: Little Changes

One Shot: 1/1

Character: Tom Hiddleston/Allie Thompson (OFC)

Genre: romance/angst

Rating: G

Summary:  Everything in her life had changed so suddenly. One moment she was trying to juggle her work life with the long distance strain of a still very new and tentative relationship. The next she was sitting in the bathroom staring blankly at a small pink plus sign and trying to remember how to breathe. Panic had been one of the first things that registered. Things with Tom were still so new. So tentative. They’d been together barely seven months. Too soon. Way, way too soon.

Authors Notes/Warnings: This was written for @redfoxwritesstuff 500 follower writing challenge. My prompt was “I’m pregnant.” I set out initially thinking I’d run this prompt with Tom and Cath from Brave Face but the more I thought on it, the more I realized it would be the perfect opportunity to revisit Tom and Allie from my fic for @babylevines 4k challenge Perfectly Imperfect. I always intended on coming back to these two and this challenge felt like the perfect opportunity. A great big shout out to @nonsensicalobsessions who was my second set of eyes on this fic and my sounding board. You’ve been such an amazing help and I cannot thank you enough!

Allie Thompson felt the strap of her carryon bag dig into the palm of her hand as she let her eyes roam over the customs hall at JFK. The large room was filled nearly to the brim with tired, bored, and antsy people, all waiting in a queue that seemed never ending. She cursed herself yet again for not buying a rolling carryon. Never thought you’d need it, did you, Thompson?

The trip had been impulsive. Stupidly, recklessly impulsive. Allie had to keep reassuring herself that she was only taking up Tom’s offer to have her come and see him (and the city). In the nearly two months since he’d come New York he’d tried everything he could seemingly think of to convince Allie to throw caution to the wind and stay with him, if only for a short while. And each and every time she’d turned him down. Not out of a lack of desire (she missed him far more than she was willing to admit to anyone least of all herself), but for various (and frustratingly valid as far as she was concerned) reasons. The office was short staffed, she’d just gotten a promotion at work and asking for the time off wouldn’t reflect well on her next appraisal, the flight was more than she could afford at the time (despite saving up what she could out of each pay).

Tom had offered, repeatedly, to let him pay her airfare and each time Allie told him she couldn’t accept. It was pride more than anything which kept her from doing so, they both knew it, but more than that, she didn’t feel right having him spend money on her. Not that much. Not when she couldn’t repay him for such generosity. It didn’t feel right, taking his money no matter how freely he seemed to offer it. Allie knew that Tom suspected that was a large part of her refusal and hadn’t fought her on it. At least not as much as she knew he wanted to; she could hear it plainly in his voice each time they spoke.

Now here she was, standing in this stupidly long queue wondering for the thousandth time if she was making a horrid mistake in coming. Her back twinged irritatingly and she rocked herself back and forth on the balls of her feet hoping to ease some of the tension. Why hadn’t she thought to throw her heating pad into her bag before she’d left? Thank god she hadn’t gotten sick on the plane; the frequent nausea and vomiting that had taken over her life in the last few weeks had been bad enough in the privacy of her flat or the toilets at work. On a speeding metal tube in what felt like a coffin…The idea didn’t bear thinking.

Everything in her life had changed so suddenly. One moment she was trying to juggle her work life with the long distance strain of a still very new and tentative relationship. The next she was sitting in the bathroom staring blankly at a small pink plus sign and trying to remember how to breathe. Panic had been one of the first things that registered. Things with Tom were still so new. So tentative. They’d been together barely seven months. Too soon. Way, way too soon.

The next thing she’d done once the shock and panic had worn off was call the local family clinic and book an appointment for bloodwork and the necessary testing. Before she brought Tom’s world to a halt, she had to be certain it wasn’t a fluke. They’d been able to fit her in the following day, for which she’d been grateful. Her manager had let her have the morning off after commenting she’d looked a bit peaky regardless.

Sitting on the crinkled paper that covered the cushioned exam table, Allie felt her stomach roil. She’d only half listened to the information the doctor discussed with her; taking in that she was indeed pregnant and a little over three months gone. She’d taken the paper the doctor had handed her along with the packet of vitamins with shaking hands. This was real. It was happening and even with the paperwork in hand Allie still couldn’t make sense of it.

With an air of calm which she didn’t fully feel, Allie had made her way home and grabbed the luggage she’d bought for a holiday she’d taken with friends years back and packed the first pieces of clothing her hands touched. She wasn’t sure when she’d made the conscious decision to tell him in person (this wasn’t something she felt could be done over the phone no matter how she feared the potential outcome) but somewhere between her leaving the clinic and walking up the stairs to her flat, she’d known.  

The phone call to Luke hadn’t been as awkward as she’d feared. They’d met a few times and had gotten on well enough. He’d been quite up front with her about the realities of being in a relationship with someone like Tom and made sure she understood more or less what she was potentially getting herself into. With the same breath he welcomed her to the madness. She found she liked his frankness and how he clearly cared for Tom not just as a client but as a friend. Luke had been all too eager to help her arrange her impromptu trip, making sure Tom’s people in New York were aware of her pending arrival. She’d asked him to make sure Tom didn’t know she was coming. Luke had laughed, “This is going to be such a fantastic surprise for him, you don’t want to know how much he’s been whinging about missing you.”

Allie had laughed along with Luke, ignoring the twisting in her gut. It would certainly be a surprise but she hadn’t a clue if either Tom or Luke (when push came to shove, Luke would need to be told and that was nearly as terrifying as telling Tom) would consider it a good one. Pushing those thoughts aside she’d booked a nonstop flight from Heathrow to JFK and cleared the week she’d need with her boss (which hadn’t been the most pleasant conversation).

The flight had thankfully been uneventful though she’d hardly slept the entire way. And not for lack of trying. Her mind wouldn’t seem to shut off, playing over and over again the various (and most often unpleasant) reaction awaiting her in New York. The lack of sleep was something she was most certainly paying for now. God, what she wouldn’t give for a hot shower and sleep. But that she feared would not be for a long while yet.

What felt like hours later, Allie found herself at the front of the queue handing her passport to the stony-faced customs agent and answering the questions asked of her. Who was she here to see? Her boyfriend (the word still felt odd) who was working in the States. How long would she be staying? Maybe a week. She waited with baited breath as the agent looked first at her, then at the passport before stamping it and handing it back to her with a monotone,  “Welcome to New York.”

Stamped passport in hand, she made her way towards the baggage claim. Once she’d grabbed her rolling case (and made a mad dash for the nearest toilet, the nausea had decided now would be a spectacular time to make its reappearance. Thank god she’d kept the amenity kit in her purse so she could clean her teeth after), Allie made her way into the arrivals hall proper and scanned the crowd. Luke had insisted on setting up transport from the airport to Tom’s temporary dwelling and despite a string of protests refused to budge on the issue. The man was just as, if not more, stubborn than Tom and fighting him on anything was nothing short of an exercise in futility.

She spotted a tall man dressed in a pair dark trousers, matching jacket, and white button-up shirt holding a sign bearing her name standing towards the back of the waiting crowd. He smiled politely at her as she approached and offered to take her bags. Allie thought for a moment of protesting but banished the thought almost at once. The man (whose name was Frank, she’d learned later) was simply doing his job and she had no right to make it difficult for him to do so (even if she was quiet capable of wrangling her own baggage). Quietly, the pair made their way from the noisy hall and out into the bright sunlight of the afternoon. She was ushered into the waiting black SUV as Frank took her luggage round the back and placed it in the boot.

The car was quite nice, Allie noted with a tired sigh as she settled herself onto the supple leather of the backseat. Far nicer than the battered Nissan Micra she had back home; a holdover from her university days that she’s scrimped and saved for. It wasn’t much to look at but it was reliable and that was honestly all that mattered. She hardly used it anyhow, mainly just when she left the city to visit family or simply escape from the hustle and bustle of it all. She rested her head back against the smooth headrest and allowed her eyes to flutter closed. God, she was tired. Just a few moments, she told herself. I’ll just rest my eyes for a few moments.

Allie jolted awake at the feel of a hand on her shoulder. Blinking in confusion, she let her gaze roam over her surroundings; the dimly lit interior of an SUV and the sounds of a city echoing from its opened door. New York, her brain finally chimed in. I’m in New York. Tom. And just like that she was suddenly awake. The familiar nerves roared to life once more as just why she’d come flooded back into her conscious thoughts.

“Sorry,” she murmured to Frank who’d gotten out of the car and come around to wake her. “I must have dozed off.”

“It’s fine,” he answered with a knowing smile, “You looked like you needed it.”

Allie nodded quietly and slid from the backseat out onto the pavement. Her eyes drifted upwards, taking in the buildings surrounding them. She’d seen New York countless times in films and on television but it was quite odd actually being there. The building they’d parked beside was massively tall, covered in faded tan brick, painted brick she noted on closer inspection. The glass door reflected the bright sunlight, obscuring her view inside. Smiling softly, she took the handle of her bag, which Frank had placed beside her and took a deep breath before following him inside.

She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the lobby. The wheels of her checked bag echoed as they rolled across the tiled floor towards the lifts at the far end of the hall. The wall beside the door lined with several metal letter boxes each labeled with what Allie assumed were flat numbers. She’d known from her various calls with Tom that rather than staying in a hotel for the duration of the play, he’d opted at renting a furnished flat in a building close enough to the theater to be walkable but far enough away that it hopefully would be off of most enthusiastic fans radars. While a hotel would be more convenient in terms of cleaning and meals (there was certainly something to be said about room service, he’d confessed), having his own space and privacy won out. And she was eternally grateful for that now. Especially if things ended badly. Less prying eyes and whispered voices in a private dwelling. More of a chance she could make a quiet, dignified retreat if needed.

Shaking the negative thoughts away, Allie followed Frank into the lift. They arrived on the tenth floor moments later and she allowed him to lead the way towards a darkly stained wooden door at the end of the hall. Frank pulled a key from his pocket and made swift work of the lock, pushing the door open. Sunlight poured in through the opened curtains, flooding the flat with bright light. He stood aside to let her enter, handing her the key as she passed.

“This is yours for the time being. He should be back sometime in the next hour or so. Make yourself at home.” He smiled and took his leave.

Allie closed the door firmly behind him, locked it, and leant back against it, taking a deep breath. She was here and now all she could do was wait for his return. With effort, she pushed herself up and allowed herself to glance around the flat’s open planned living room stroke kitchen. It was minimally, but comfortably, furnished with richly stained wooden tables and an inviting black fabric couch. Books lined the coffee and side tables and pendant lighting hung down from the ceiling. The room wasn’t terribly tidy; there were a pair of trainers laying haphazardly on their side near the short hallway which she assumed led on to the sleeping area and bathroom and various bits and bobs scattered over the backs of chairs. Several toys she recognized as Bobby’s lay strewn across the wooden floor.

The kitchen was small, but functional. Bright white uppers paired with darker base cabinets and a neutral stone countertop. There was a stainless steel gas range with a matching microwave above and a large fridge beside it. The sink was deep and stainless steel as well. A coffee press and toaster were arranged against the back of the counter alongside a small electric kettle. Allie chuckled softly to herself as her eyes lingered on the bowl and mug left sitting on the counter next to the sink.

Leaving her bags tucked beside the couch, Allie made her way into the kitchen and set to tidying up. It was silly, and something she knew she absolutely did not need to do, but it gave her something to do with her hands and seemed to quiet the small, nagging voice of doubt in her head. She cleaned when she felt anxious or uneasy; Allie couldn’t say why other than it gave her something she could have control over. Tom seemed to find it amusing, stating he knew when something was up by how spotless her place was…And sometimes by how spotless his was.

Allie let out a quiet groan; Tom would know in an instant something wasn’t quite right, even through the shock of her surprise arrival. Even distracted, Tom was sharp when it came to detail. It was part of what made him so damned good at his chosen field. However, there was nothing to do for it now. Setting to work, Allie grabbed the plate and mug, placing them in the sink and turning on the hot tap. She had to rummage to find the washing up liquid and a sponge; how it had managed to get wedged in the very back of the cupboard under the sink she’d never understand. From there she let herself get lost in the heat of the water and the repetitiveness of the task.

Once the dishes were cleaned and put away, she forced herself to walk back into the living room and settle on the couch. Ignoring the temptation to straighten, if only for its ability to help her keep hold of her nerves, Allie forced herself instead to pick up the remote from the top off the darkly stained wooden coffee table and turn on the television. There wasn’t a great deal to choose from, which wasn’t surprising given it was early afternoon in the middle of the week, a handful of daytime chat shows and several daytime dramas. Sighing, she settled on one of the chat shows not caring overmuch what was happening on screen. She half listened as the women settled around a table chatting about the latest bit of celebrity news, her eyes drifting shut once more. Gods above, she was tired.

The sound of a key turning in the lock jolted Allie awake. She sat bolt upright on the couch, blinking rapidly at the disorientation before, and quickly switched off the television, dropping the remote back onto the table. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face the door. Through the thick wood she could hear Bobby’s muffled barks and the soothing timbre of Tom’s voice in response. She felt her heart hammering in her chest as she watched the knob turn and the door push slowly open.

A blur of brown swept into the apartment, loud barks echoing as the spaniel darted inside and towards Allie. He buried his face into her knees before bouncing up and attempting to bury her face in kisses.

Startled, Tom rushed in yelling, “What in the world…” His voice trailed off as his eyes settled on Allie laughing and squirming on the couch beneath an overly excited Bobby.

Pushing the spaniel off, Allie locked her eyes on Tom’s wide, startled gaze. “Hi,” she whispered, pushing her hair out of her face to see him clearly.

“You’re here,” Tom breathed, taking several slow steps into the flat, letting the door swing closed behind him. “You’re actually here.”

Allie nodded. “I’m here.”

Tom dropped the bag he’d been carrying on his shoulder to the floor and launched himself at her, a wide smile on his face. With a yelp of startlement, Allie fell backwards onto the couch, Tom’s warm weight pressing her firmly into the cushions. She let out a breathless laugh as she found herself wrapped tightly in his arms. He pressed his lips to her forehead, her cheeks, and finally her lips. Bobby, who’d backed quickly out of the way as his master seemed to take leave of his senses, barked happily before jumping up beside them on the couch and licking both of their faces.

Pulling back and laughing, Tom shooed the spaniel away. “Enough you furry menace. Off the couch.”  

Bobby blinked up at Tom before complying with begrudging grace and padding to his own doggy bed. He grabbed the red, stuffed toy that lay beside the bed and chewed it while watching them with wide, sad eyes.

Tom shook his head, pulling himself up into a sitting position and turned his attention immediately back towards Allie who did the same. “I can’t believe you’re actually here. When did you…Why didn’t you say you were coming?”

Allie pulled back, feeling the familiar dread cooling once more in her stomach. She crossed her arms in front of her. “It was kind of a last minute thing,” she answered, honestly. “I called Luke and…”

Tom let out a short, loud laugh and shook his head. “No wonder the wanker looked so smug this morning…He knew you’d be here.”

She shrugged. “I asked him not to say anything.”

“And he certainly didn’t,” Tom laughed. “I hadn’t the faintest idea.” He pulled Allie tightly against him and kissed her head once more. “I’m so happy you’re here,” he repeated again and she could feel his smile against her hair. “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

And she had, desperately. It felt wonderful, being in his arms again. The comforting heat and weight of him against her was like coming home. It scared her, just how much this man had come to mean to her in such a relatively short amount of time. And now…

Reluctantly, Allie pulled back reaching up to take Tom’s hands in her own. It was tempting, sorely tempting to say nothing…Just for a little while. To bask in the simple joy of being back with the man she loved. However, she knew it would only be delaying the inevitable. He needed to know, whatever the outcome. Any delaying techniques would be just that, it wouldn’t fix or change anything.

Tom met her eyes, confusion shining steadily in his own at her second disengagement in just as many minutes. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Allie swallowed against the lump in her throat. She’d spent most of the flight over thinking of just what to say; how to tell him that in a few short months there would be another person in their lives. Over and over again, she had agonized over her wording, her timing, his reaction. All of it. And it wasn’t as if she feared he’d lose it completely and chuck her out, she’d known Tom well enough to understand he wouldn’t do something like that, but that didn’t mean he’d embrace the news with open arms.

The timing was terrible; he had projects lined up well into the following year. How could he possibly juggle the demands of impending fatherhood when he’d barely be around? How could she ask him to? They’d only been together seven months, and the last two of those there had been an ocean between them. There we so many reasons for this to be the thing that would sink them; Allie knew that. Having a baby didn’t guarantee a successful relationship or a relationship in general. Tom could very easily walk away, she didn’t think he would deny the child, but he could choose to minimize his presence in their lives. And while Allie knew she could, and would, handle raising this child on her own if she had to, it wasn’t ideal. She wanted Tom to be involved, to be beside her through it all. The ball was ever so firmly in his court with this and it terrified her.

“Allie,” Tom pleaded, reaching down to take her hand and squeezing her hands with his own. “Talk to me, please. Whatever it is we’ll mange it. Talk to me.”

He sounded so sure, so confident, and she wanted nothing more than to believe him. But the fear was still there, still clinging to her like a second skin.

She swallowed hard, shutting her eyes tightly before raising them to his once more. “I’m pregnant.”

The words fell from her lips in almost a whisper. Had it not been for the way his eyes widened at the words or his slackened grip, Allie could have convinced herself he hadn’t heard them. She pulled her hands back into her lap and fought the urge to stare down at them rather than at Tom.

“You’re pregnant?” Tom whispered, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. A silence, which felt as if it were choking the life from her. His words did little to calm the racing of her heart. The tone of them wasn’t censorious nor were they exactly welcoming. Unease and disappoint roared within her.  

Allie nodded, not trusting her voice.

“Pregnant,” he murmured again, as if he were trying to make sense of it. Another long pause before he uttered, “How far?”

Her eyes fell from his.

“A little over three months,” she answered, “according to the scans.” Her hand rested unconsciously against her abdomen and she could feel his eyes on her. She couldn’t raise her own to meet them. She didn’t want to see the disapproval or disappointment in them. Too soon. This is all too soon.

“So just before…” His voice trailed off.

The last few weeks before he’d headed to New York had been filled with stolen moments. At his place. At hers. There had been something to the idea that it could be months before she would get to touch him, to feel him, that had driven Allie (and Tom it seemed) to what felt like desperation. They’d been careful, or so she’d thought. Clearly they hadn’t been careful enough. She wondered idly just when they’d slipped up and if he was wondering as well.

Allie nodded. “Yes.”

Tom ran a hand through his shaggy hair but didn’t say anything further. She took a deep breath, steeling herself. “The timing is horrendous, I know. And I get that it’s way too soon and neither of us are ready for this…” She was rambling and she knew it but the need to explain was overwhelming her ability to think and speak rationally. “You don’t have to be involved, I won’t think ill of you for not…”

Tom’s hand rested firmly on her knee, silencing her. He took a slow, deep breath before speaking. “Do you want this?”

She blinked at him, the words not making any sort of sense to her already sleep-starved, panicked mind. “Wha-what?” She stammered back, confusion coloring her tone, “I don’t know what…”

He squeezed her knee with a firm gentleness she hadn’t expected. “Having a baby is a big thing,” he started, his eyes locked on her face as if he were studying her. “It’s life changing. For you more than anything. Yes, the timing isn’t ideal for either of us. And I know that you’re scared of what I’m thinking and feeling. But Allie…I don’t want you to worry about what you think I want or what anyone else will say. This is, first and foremost, your life and as such it is your choice. I will respect whatever it is you want. So please tell me,” Tom locked his eyes on hers. “Allie, do you want this?”

A million different thoughts flooded through her mind. She was scared; scared she wasn’t ready, scared she’d be a crap mum, scared he’d walk away and she’d be left alone. But along with that fear was the small, bright, stubborn fragment of hope. She wanted this baby, wanted Tom to want it too. Even though this couldn’t have happened at a worse time. Sense, it seemed, mattered not. She wanted this. Wanted it fiercely.

Wordlessly, she nodded.

Tom’s face split into a warm, bright smile and he reached out, placing his hand gently against the, as of yet, non-existent curve of her abdomen. “We’re having a baby.”

Allie laughed, feeling her eyes prickle with relieved tears. ��We are.”

“Oh god,” Tom breathed, his voice breaking with soft laughter, “Luke is going to murder me.”