#but as soon as someone reads for entertainment above anything else it’s a waste of time and they’re stupid.

[acotars]

(I have no idea if this will make sense—sorry I’ve had some wine this evening and so I’m rambling)

I think this is a “popular” opinion but not widespread—people need to understand that there is so much nuance to reading. Obviously there’s the “you can like things I don’t like” and vice versa, but also in HOW people enjoy things. Like take Fourth Wing (I know I know), but while I also agree with a lot of the complaints, I still was just like “that was a fun time, I totally ignored all the sex scenes bc I hate how they were written, but I was vibing the whole time.” And I feel like some people would still respond to my opinion like “okay but it was so horrible how did you even enjoy it at all??? Lame”

Like okay Betty, I love high fantasy as much as you, but sometimes I want something that just fucks, okay?

(and not to say you aren’t allowed to not like things, but there seems to be a fine line between “hey! I didn’t like this but that’s okay” and “I hated this and I CANNOT comprehend why ANYONE could find even an inkling of fun from this + I’m going to subtly implicate that I think people who like this are stupid”) (obviously not for books that are objectively hurtful or offensive)

And of course you can go so many different ways than just that example, but it’s a mix of gate-keeping, prejudice, lack of empathy, and a bit of a superiority complex that makes it so hard for the reading community to really be united.

[sleeping-on-cracking-ice]

hello 🧸 i really enjoy reading your alice in borderland writings and just wanted to say that your writing is ✨immaculate✨ hope you keep up the good work!also, i wanted to request something where the reader is this badass/genius at the beach and niragi and chishiya can’t help but be attracted to her and so they try to pursue her both. but even though she acts tough on the outside she does like them back and the rest is up to you if that’s alright~

Thank you so much! That just made my day. 😊 And of course, here you go! 

Two Peculiar Admirers | Shuntaro Chishiya, Suguru Niragi

PART 1 | PART 2

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Character(s): Chishiya, Niragi (Aguni, Kuina, OC)

Summary: You are a new member of The Beach with a harsh attitude and a strong personality. Chishiya and Niragi can’t help but be a little bit lovestruck.

Warnings: a lot of swearing, blood, stalking, violence, threatening

Word Count: 3.5k

*reader is female

Author’s Note: I planned to fit this all into one part but it got a bit too long and I still have more to write. I’m so sorry I left it at a cliffhanger but I promise I’ll upload Part 2 before you know it!

Gifs Credit

It had all begun when Aguni had brought you back to The Beach.

You were a particularly strong woman, both on the inside and the outside. You didn’t hesitate in games to do what needed to be done to survive. And best of all, you were on your own. He thought you would be a perfect little guinea pig to add to the pile back at The Beach to help collect cards.

Aguni had found you at a heart’s game, a game of betrayal. He noticed you at registration, believing that you would be killed off within the first few minutes. But he got a great surprise to see that you gave up other player’s lives without hesitation. At least you knew how to survive in the Borderlands, no friends, no one to betray.

He followed you for a while after the game, trying to find the right moment to grab you and place the black bag over your head. You noticed him following you a few times, so you kept your guard up.

But eventually, he used his strength against you and knocked you out with a few hits to the head. Not enough to hurt you, but enough to make you black out.

He didn’t want to take any chances. After seeing your strength and skills conveyed at the hearts game, he didn’t want to risk becoming injured or even killed by you.

After being brought back, Aguni spoke highly of you in the meeting room, causing Hatter to move you to a higher number than most. You were annoyed if anything, you were doing completely fine by yourself. Why did these people have to drag you into their selfish and chaotic dynamic?

You were rather cold-hearted towards everyone, being upset about becoming a part of all this mess. You felt like a soldier in a meaningless war. You didn’t want to put all your energy into your games just to let one person leave this hell. Everyone seemed blinded by it, didn’t they realize they were believing empty promises?

*************

On one of your first nights at The Beach, you had been sitting at a booth nearby the pool by yourself. You enjoyed watching people acting like drunken idiots, it was entertaining to you. Sipping your drink and laughing at people getting pushed into the water had become one of your favourite pastimes, since there didn’t seem to be much else to do other than drink or dance.

This was when Niragi first approached you.

A sudden arm slung around your shoulders like a snake. You whipped your head around harshly, receiving a fright from the action. A young man with several silver piercings in his face had decided he had the audacity to make himself comfortable right next to you. Well, technically it felt like he was sitting right on top of you he was that close.

You furrowed your eyebrows roughly at him but didn’t move, just staring at him with a surprised look on your face.

���Hey sweetheart, you’re looking awfully lonely,” he began, leaning his face much closer to yours. “Why don’t you come with me? I’m sitting over there with a few of my friends. I would love it if you could join us.”

You could tell this guy had never been rejected before, his ego was so large it oozed off his words like a bad smell. You put a hand against his chest and pushed him away from you. His eyes widened in surprise.

“Look sorry… whatever your name is. You’re being real fucking annoying right now,” you said, being straight forward with him. Although you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t appreciate his confidence. But there was a fine line between confidence and arrogance, and this man seemed to be right in between the two.

He sat up and off you with a shocked look on his face. “Are you sure you want to be saying that to me?” he said in an annoyed tone. You watched as he cocked his pierced eyebrow upwards, being interested in how you would answer.

You gave a big sarcastic smile and giggled. “Yeah, you’re nothing special sweetheart. Thanks for ruining my peace and quiet.” You stood up out of your seat and his arm slid off your shoulder. He watched you in shock as you strutted away from the booth, making your way to the bar nearby. You didn’t want to argue with a man who just so obviously wanted to get into your pants. You weren’t going to give into anyone that easy.

Niragi let out a big breath and smirked as he checked you out from the booth. “Hopefully no one saw that.” He said to himself.

No girl had ever rejected him so harshly before. You didn’t know who he was? Did no one tell you?

Your harsh remark to his attempted flirting struck a chord within him. He felt his heartstrings pull tight in his chest. That attitude of yours really hit him.

I mean, who wouldn’t love to play a game of cat and mouse? Because the vibe you were giving off to Niragi gave him the idea that you would love to play a little chase game of emotions with him.

***********

Chishiya’s meeting with you would have been rather bizarre. He met you at a game because you were assigned to the same group as him for one night.

During the drive on the way there, you kept glancing your eyes over to the mysterious figure. He sat quietly in his seat, hood over his head and earbuds in his ears. He wore all white, reminding you of a ghost.

The game was a four of clubs. Pretty easy for someone like you, or so you thought.

It was held in an apartment block that reached twelve levels high. The aim of the game was to find the safe zone to disengage the bomb within the time limit and without being ‘tagged’ by the tagger.

During the first five minutes of the game, you tried your hardest to remain alone, but a young man who didn’t have any idea what he was doing followed you around from registration. He seemed to be a new player, so after a while you decided to tolerate him. He could be used as a shield from the tagger if worse came to worse.

As you made your way around the levels, checking every door and looking around every corner, you heard rapid gunshots every now and then. It made your heart drop every time you heard it just below you or just above you.

At some point you watched as you saw the tagger take aim at someone who was on a different level. You watched as the young man ducked down to avoid being killed, bullet holes shredding into the wall next to him in the process.

You frowned. Why did the tagger attack him so far away? Every victim has been on the same floor as him when he kills them.

Then it hit you: he was trying to protect the door that the young man was attempting to open. That must have been the safe space.

You and the new player that remained with you made your way down a few levels to the door that the tagger had been shooting to. There had to be something there, he wouldn’t aim from that far if he didn’t want that door opened.

As you arrived, the tagger and the young man gone, you were about to open the door before you heard a voice call from further down the balcony.

The mysterious figure from the car was there, strutting along the path like he owned the place. You kept your hand on the door handle and looked at him to see what he had to say.

“Are you sure you want to open that?” he gloated, smiling slightly and stopping just next to you. You looked him up and down. He had a shorter stature than you expected.

“I was planning on it,” you remarked, jiggling the door handle in your grasp. It was unlocked, unlike all the other doors you had tried. This must have been the safe zone.

The figure tucked his hands into the pockets of his white hoodie and raised his eyebrows while scanning the door up and down. “Don’t you think it’s a bit strange that the tagger didn’t just stand in front of it?” he said.

You thought for a second. He had a point, but you didn’t have time to think logically at that moment. The game phone in your pocket beeped and announced that there was only five minutes remaining.

“Look I’ll just open it slowly. But we must hurry because we won’t know how long I could take to disengage the bomb,” you said matter-of-factly.

The man nodded and stood behind you so he could see what was through the door when you opened it. You breathed out heavily and slowly turned the door handle to peep inside.

The room blossomed with light as soon as you opened the door. It seemed normal enough, except there was another door on the other side of the room that led to a lit-up area.

“That must be the safe zone,” you breathed out, relieved. “Must be,” the figure repeated.

A sudden deafening sound filled the air behind you and you both whipped your head around to see the new player that had followed you lying on the ground with several holes in his chest. You felt blood splatter onto your face from the impact, shifting your eyes upwards just to see the tagger at the end of the hallway, quickly storming their way down towards you and the man.

“Shit!” you screamed. “No time to waste!”

You pulled open the door completely, and before Chishiya could even think quick enough, you grabbed him by the back of his hoodie and tugged him inside harshly.

He stumbled from the sudden movement and ended up falling on top of you from the force, managing to kick the door shut with his foot in the process.

You groaned underneath him. “Sorry,” you muttered. “You weren’t moving so I didn’t have a choice.”

He chuckled above you and pushed his arms against the ground to stand himself up and off you. “No worries, I could never be mad at someone for saving my life.”

 *************

You thought that both of those encounters with the strange young men would be your last, but apparently not.

You began being put in the same games as Chishiya more often, eventually forming a bond with him and always teaming up together during games. He introduced you to his friend Kuina, who you became rather close as time went on.

Although you still preferred your time alone greatly, there was always a certain someone who would disturb your peace and quiet.

Niragi would take any opportunity to annoy you, whether it be in the hallways when you’re on your way to bed where he would back you up against a wall and try to make you feel threatened, or whether it be out at the pool when you were by yourself. People would stare at you both as he sat with you and tried to make it seem like to the public that you were together, which was quite embarrassing.

He would never leave you alone, and at some points you began to believe that he was stalking you. He managed to find you everywhere, so it wouldn’t be an outrageous claim.

Chishiya however you found a lot more likeable.

He was subtle, kind of making sly comments about his attraction to you every now and then. You appreciated him trying to hide it more rather than being too open about it like Niragi. It made you more interested in the intelligent and mysterious man.

Chishiya at times though would come across as rather overprotective. That was the only thing you had a problem with, because out of all people he would know that you can handle yourself simply fine.

Sometimes in games together, he would do everything in his power to make sure you stay away from potential death. At times he would drag you around like a ragdoll just so you stay beside him. It became quite annoying, but you dealt with it anyway. You did not want to offend or upset him.

**********

Niragi leant against the hallway wall just outside your bedroom door. He was waiting for you to get changed so he could take you down to the bar and have a few drinks with you. You did not know he was outside though, he kind of just saw you after you arrived back from your game and followed you.

As he fiddled with his rifle to kill time, he heard a small pitter-patter of feet just down the hall from him. He glanced upwards to see none other than Chishiya making his way up the carpet towards him.

Both exchanged confused looks, until Niragi’s mouth pulled up into a smirk and he ran his pierced tongue over his bottom lip slowly like a snake.

“What’s a blondy like you doing here?” he chuckled, pushing himself off the wall and slinging his rifle over his shoulder in its usual position.

Chishiya raised his eyebrows, conveying his usual confident expression on his face. “I could ask you the same thing,” he retorted, walking further towards Niragi.

Niragi chuckled deeply then spoke. “I’m waiting for someone.”

“Really? Giving them a fright before their execution. That’s quite low Niragi even for you.” Chishiya’s smile never left his face.

Niragi threw his head back and cackled. “No actually, quite the opposite really. I’m waiting to take her down to the pool.”

Chishiya widened his eyes in shock. “Her? Hm. I never took you as the romantic type,” he teased.

“I’m not. I’m more of the ‘follow you around until you pay attention to me’ type,” Niragi admitted. Chishiya let out a small laugh at his comment.

“Seems more like you.”

Chishiya walked further towards Niragi who remained close to your door. He watched in confusion as Chishiya reached his hand out towards the door handle to open it, but before he could, Niragi whipped his hand quickly over it to stop him.

“What are you doing?” Niragi said in a tense voice, so contrasting to the somewhat light-hearted one he had just a moment ago.

Chishiya pulled his hand back slowly and looked up into Niragi’s darkened eyes. “Going into this room? What else would I be doing?”

“But this is Y/N’s room,” Niragi argued, standing in front of the door so Chishiya couldn’t get inside.

Chishiya raised his eyebrows. “Yeah? So? I need to talk to her.”

Niragi leaned down closer to him with a frown painted on his face. “About what?”

Chishiya rolled his eyes. “None of your business you creep. Why are you standing in front of Y/N’s room like a guard dog anyway?”

“She’s the one I’m taking down to the bar.”

Chishiya’s heart dropped. There’s no way you’ve been with Niragi, you weren’t dumb enough to become involved with the psychotic militants.

“Wait no. She told me that she was going to spend some time with me and Kuina after the games.”

Silence filled the air between them. Neither of them knew what to say, but the rising tension between them became stronger each second.

“Does she know you’re here?” Chishiya asked out of the blue.

“Does she know you’re here?” Niragi fired back, avoiding his question.

Another awkward silence before Niragi spoke. “Look, you better not get involved with her more than you already have. She’s mine so you stay away from her,” he threatened Chishiya, walking towards him causing the shorter man to take a step back.

“Oh, you want me to stay away? You are standing outside her bedroom door with a rifle over your shoulder. Do you really think she’ll learn to like you?”

“At least she can trust me, you fucking manipulative snake.”

“She’d probably be terrified you’d put several bullets through her Niragi. Why don’t you think logically and leave her alone? It would save her the suffering of having to deal with you!”

“What? So, you can gaslight your way into her trust? At least I am straight forward Chishiya, you’d do nothing but lie and use her for your own personal gain like the fucking selfish brat you are!”

“No, at least I wouldn’t view her as nothing but a toy to play with. You know she doesn’t like you, so why the fuck do you keep trying?”

“Shut up!”

“No, I won’t! I am not going to let you weasel your way into her life and put her on display like some trophy to show off to everyone! Just leave her the fuck alone and stop following her around! It’s really fucking pathetic of you!”

Chishiya suddenly flew back into the wall behind him, creating a large bang that echoed down the halls. Niragi had kicked him square in the chest backwards. He let out a satisfied laugh.

“Look at you! You can’t even defend yourself! What makes you think that you could keep me away from Y/N?!”

Chishiya sat up from his position on the floor and let out a loud groan. His spine was screaming in pain, making him stumble before finally standing on his two feet.

Niragi didn’t even give him time to breath before he punched him across the jaw, making his head whip sideways and fall back against the wall. Niragi gripped one hand in his blonde hair roughly while another clutched the collar of his hoodie.

Chishiya yelped in pain, not being able to fight back. He didn’t bring any weapons to help himself, he did not expect to be in this situation when he left his room to come to yours.

Niragi leaned close to his face which was scrunched up in pain. “I dare you to try and keep me away. Because nothing comes between me and what I want, no matter what it is.” He spat harshly in his face, narrowly missing Chishiya’s eye.

He let loose of Chishiya’s white hair, causing him to fall to the carpeted ground. “I guess I’ll meet up with her another time, when there aren’t any rats around to trip on,” Niragi chuckled and turned to make his way down the hall towards the staircase at the end.

‘What wonderful timing Y/N would have if she came out just now,’ Chishiya thought to himself.

As if he had predicted the future, you busted out of your room harshly, almost tripping in the process. You locked eyes with Chishiya, who had blood pouring out his nose while seated against the wall opposite your door.

“Oh my god! Chishiya! The fuck happened to you?!” you exclaimed, rushing over and kneeling in front of him.  “I heard a loud bang outside and came out to see what it was. Was someone else here?”

Chishiya grabbed the hand that you offered to him to help him up. He groaned as you lifted him to a standing position, only for him to fall forwards onto you from sudden nausea that hit him. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders to keep him upright while he placed his chin on your collarbone.

“Just forget about it. I’m okay, just a little scratched up,” he tried to deflect your question. “I had a really rough game and I tripped over just then. Smacking my nose on the ground didn’t help much.” He was surprised with himself about how quick he covered up what happened. He felt quite embarrassed being beaten up by someone as dumb as Niragi, so he didn’t want to tell you.

You laughed a little bit, the happy sound warming Chishiya’s heart. “You’re such an idiot. How do you manage to survive all these games while being so clumsy?”

Chishiya smiled. The fact that you cared about him outweighed the throbbing pain of his developing bruise on his jaw. He brought a hand up to his nose and wiped along it, soaking up the small bit of blood in his sleeve.

“You still want to go see Kuina?” he asked you, pulling away from you and looking you in the eyes.

“Yeah of course!” you exclaimed excitedly. “I was thinking we go down to the pool for a while. We can sit in a corner somewhere and chat,” you suggested.

Chishiya nodded and held out his hand. “Shall we then?” he said teasingly.

You laughed and began walking while leaving him hanging. “Maybe one day I’ll hold your hand, but not today.”

Chishiya chuckled and jogged to catch up with you. As you walked side by side, he secretly hoped that Niragi wouldn’t be down at the pool, preparing to start trouble the moment he sees Chishiya with you.

Unfortunately, his luck wasn’t on his side that night.

[shera-dnd]

New chapter arriving a little early today. This time featuring Weiss’s lesbian awakening at the hands of a certain Knight of the Fall Maiden

As usual you can read here or over on AO3, just follow your gay little heart (like Weiss is hopefully gonna do soon)

It had taken Weiss a couple of days to get used to not wearing her helmet, and a few more still for her to ditch the armor altogether. She hadn’t engaged in combat since those first couple of days, and even if she did, she was more than confident that she could best her opponents with sword alone.

Now, with the protection of Lady Ilia’s shawl she was given a level of freedom she did not expect. She was able to roam the festival grounds without a care in the world, no longer weighted either by iron or name. Tied down no longer by responsibilities to her father nor to House Schnee as a whole.

Of course Lady Ilia accompanied her wherever she went, though now Weiss saw her less as a shackle and more as a companion, with whom she spent time happily. She hoped that by putting aside her iron she had made herself more approachable to Lady Ilia. She had the fae to thank for all this after all.

“Must we really accompany those two once more?” Lady Ilia demanded as they followed a little ways behind Lady Yang and Lady Blake, who were both very openly and blatantly flirting.

“Lady Blake is our friend, Lady Ilia,” Weiss replied, “shouldn’t we be happy to accompany her in such a joyful evening stroll?”

“Oh, I’m plenty happy,” Lady Ilia countered, clear annoyance disproving her own statement, “though I do not understand why I must be exposed to these love birds every day.”

“Because Lady Blake requested that we accompany her,” Weiss informed, a playful grin forming on her face, “besides how else will you reach your daily quota of snark and mockery?”

“I’m sure you’d still give me plenty to work with, Lady Gigas,” Lady Ilia replied in kind, using the false name they had chosen for Weiss’s disguise.

“You know nothing delights me more than being of help to you, Lady Ilia,” Weiss added. The two of them looked at each other with an attempt at annoyed glares which very quickly dissolved into amused smirks.

“If you two are quite done,” Lady Blake called, “we’ve arrived.”

Around them sprawled the tents of the valean envoys and the Knights of the Fall Maiden, above them fluttered the flag of crossed axes over a crown, the symbol of their kingdom. They would finally meet Lady Blake’s companions.

“Come here, men,” the knight called in the valean tongue, “I wish to introduce you to my friends.”

With that many of those present gathered around the four of them to exchange greetings. Plenty of these knights had been bested by Weiss the week before, but none of them seemed to hold a grudge against her, and many had taken the opportunity to request rematches, which she gladly accepted.

It was after she had assumed she had met all of Lady Blake’s companions that she was greeted by the sight of a new arrival. An arrival that caught both her eye, and every scrap of breath from her lungs.

She was a tall woman with a flowing mane of red hair. Her body may not be as large, nor bulky, as Lady Yang’s, but the lean muscle it had looked as if it had been sculpted from marble, and the sweat - from what was clearly an intense training session - gave them a shine that made it near impossible for Weiss to look away.

She was starstruck.

“Lady Nikos,” Lady Blake called, “I hope I haven’t interrupted your sparring practice.”

“Hello again,” she greeted, with a lovely smile on her face, “are these the companions you have spoken so fondly of?”

With that she happily greeted the four of them and then continued to hold an animated conversation with her fellow knight. Weiss’s mind was having a difficult time grasping what was being said, most of it focusing on the lovely sound of Lady Nikos’s accent, and the insufferable smirk on Lady Ilia’s face.

Before she could question her companion on this another knight stumbled after Lady Nikos. A blonde man that Weiss first assumed to be her squire, but whose regalia was that of a full fledged knight.

Her next assumption was that the man had stolen his gear from an actual knight, though Lady Blake would have apprehended him if that was the case.

“Sir Arc, good to see you’ve survived your sparring session,” Lady Blake welcomed, the title as unfitting on him as his armor.

“Jaune’s been getting better and better,” Lady Nikos assured her, though why someone like her would waste her good will on such a buffon was beyond her.

“It’s only because of your teachings, Pyrrha,” he replied, offering the recognition back to the one who actually deserved it, “I wouldn’t have made it this far without you.”

“Nonsense, you’d still be a knight of great renown,” she assured him, quite wrongly in Weiss’s fair opinion.

To drive her point home she took his hand and gently pressed a kiss against his knuckles. Weiss decided then that she despised Jaune Arc with all her being.

With her mind now being assaulted on three fronts - two annoying and one lovely - Weiss did not contribute much to the conversation, which only aggravated Lady Ilia’s accursed smile.

It was only later, when the two of them had been separated from the group that Weiss finally had a chance to question her on that.

“What amuses you so, Lady Ilia?” Weiss asked, making no attempt to hide her annoyance.

“Nothing much,” she replied, her tone as unbearable as her smile, “only that you’re so clearly smitten by Lady Nikos.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Weiss scoffed.

She was not some foolish little princess swooning over any knight who so much as flexed a bicep in her vicinity. More importantly she did not seek the company of women in that way...at the very least she was pretty sure she didn’t.

“That you wish it was your hand, not Sir Arc’s, that she had kissed,” Lady Ilia replied with certainty.

“That is…not untrue,” Weiss admitted, “but that doesn’t mean anything.”

“Doesn’t it now?” She teased, “does the thought of a strong woman in knightly armor, carrying you off into the sunset not set your heart aflutter?"

“It very much does not,” Weiss informed her, unamused.

“Then perhaps you wish to be that knight in shining armor,” she tried again, “brave, powerful, holding a swooning maiden in your arms as she declares her undying love for you.”

That thought certainly brought some color to Weiss’s cheeks. Though it was obviously only because it played to her dream of becoming a knight, and not because of any previously undiscovered attraction to swooning maidens.

Certainly not.

“Oh Lady Schnee,” Lady Ilia continued, hands clutching her chest as she leaned back in a clear mockery of said maidens, “you’re so handsome and strong, please carry me off to your chambers so you may ravish me.”

“Yes, yes, you’ve made your point,” Weiss rolled her eyes, deigning to ignore Lady Ilia’s nonsense in favor of preparing their camp once more.

That was certainly a lot for her to process all at once. Certainly she was surrounded by women who held interest in other women, but that did not speak of her preferences, right? Though if she was so certain she shouldn’t be having all these doubts right now.

Perhaps she enjoyed the company of men and women, much like Lady Yang’s mothers. Though she couldn’t quite remember a time in which a man’s company did to her what the mere sight of Lady Nikos did.

She needed something to get her mind off of this. Something that would both distract her and help her think more clearly. Thankfully she knew just what could save her in her hour of need.

“What are you doing?” Lady Ilia asked, as Weiss began searching through her belongings.

“Searching for my training swords,” she informed her, “the two of us are gonna spar.”

“I see,” Lady Ilia replied, seemingly not much entertained by this idea, “and why is that?”

“You’ve claimed to know how to defend yourself,” she explained. Having found the pair of wooden swords that she had stashed away - just in case Winter could spare some time with her - Weiss tossed one over to Lady Ilia and continued, “I wish to test that.”

Her reasoning wasn’t entirely untrue. She did want to measure her companion’s skill, just to be sure she would be safe were they ever separated, and that explanation dealt a far smaller blow to her pride than, ‘I’d rather swordfight you than sit around and question my sexuality all night.’

“Very well,” Lady Ilia agreed, getting up and giving her sword a few practice swings, “though do not be saddened when I put an end to your winning streak, Schnee.”

“My lady,” Weiss replied, in a tone she knew annoyed her companion deeply, “you know you could never sadden me.”

“You know that won’t stop me from trying, Schnee,” she replied, matching Weiss in her annoyance.

This would bring her such joy.

“On my mark then,” Weiss declared, taking a proper fighting stance, “begin!”

The word had barely left her lips before Lady Ilia’s sword was already swinging for Weiss’s head. She barely had the time to block that blow before another hit came her way, then another, and another still. Lady Ilia pressed the offensive with a terrifying fury, backed by skillful swordsmanship.

Sidestepping her next blow, Weiss finally managed to get her footing again and swing her first blow towards her opponent. Lady Ilia evaded it masterfully and pushed the attack once again, only to be stopped by a follow up blow of Weiss’ sword.

Oh, this was exhilarating. The intensity of her lady’s attacks, the rhythm of their push and pull, truly nothing could get her blood pumping quite like a good fight, and Lady Ilia was giving her exactly that.

“I wanna see you grinning like that once I turn you into worm food, Schnee,” she threatened.

Oh? Had Weiss been grinning this whole time? Perhaps she had been enjoying herself too much. Not that she had any cares right now. There was only space in her mind for the fires of combat, both with blades and words alike.

“Your skills with the blade are matched only by your eloquence, my lady,” Weiss declared, trying to keep a calm tone even as the fight continued.

“And yours is only matched by your fairness,” Lady Ilia countered, matching Weiss blow for blow.

“I’ll be taking that as a compliment,” she replied, taking some ground as well while she was at it.

“Not once I’m done beating your face bloody!”

Weiss laughed.

She couldn’t help herself really, not when she was enjoying herself so much. She hadn’t had such fun in ages, so of course she had been grinning and laughing like a complete fool. It did not help that her sparring partner was making herself a fool in much the same way.

Perhaps it had been such bouts of laughter that had caused Lady Ilia’s stance to slip for a moment. Making the best of the opportunity she had been given, Weiss lunged forth, hitting her partner’s sword with force, knocking her backwards with the blow. Though she did not wish for her companion to suffer any real wounds, and dutifully caught her in one arm before she could touch the ground.

Her breathing was labored, heavy with strain and adrenaline. Lady Ilia did not find herself in a much better position, clinging to Weiss’s arm to keep herself from falling back as the both of them simply held themselves like that. Their bodies pushed oh so closely as they allowed themselves to slowly recover.

“I must admit, Schnee,” Ilia was the first to break the silence, “you’re quite the fighter.”

Weiss did not care to stop the smirk that had returned to her face, “it wouldn’t do for my lady to have a poor knight at her service.”

Calling herself a knight was perhaps a bit much, but she felt she could allow herself such indulgences in this moment. As expected, Lady Ilia clearly disagreed, rolling her eyes at Weiss’s self satisfied comment.

What wasn’t expected was for her body to fracture into a kaleidoscope of butterflies, each of them flying away and dispersing into the air. Weiss froze in stunned shock, unable to move as her mind tried to grasp what had just unfolded.

She felt hard wood gently press against her back, before the real Lady Ilia allowed herself to retort, "and it wouldn't do to let you grow too cocky, Schnee."

The Ilia she had fought was an illusion.

Now that had returned the smile to her face.

Weiss righted herself and turned to face her sparring partner. Ilia’s excitement was written on her face as clear as day. She smiled not only at the fact that she had bested a Schnee, but at the simple joy of a good fight.

It struck her then that perhaps there was some truth to Lady Ilia’s assumptions. Perhaps she had certain preferences when it came to her partners. That was certainly a lot for Weiss’s poor mind to digest while still being pumped full of adrenaline. Maybe it would be for the best if she saved the self questioning for later, and just allowed herself to enjoy this moment of joy.

“Again?” Weiss asked, already knowing what her lady’s answer would be.

“Again!”

[hiremeyuehua]

Get to know me tag

tagged by @hoseom Can always count on them for some tagging entertainment. (Even if I also forget to do these...)

Thankkyouuuuu. ♡

when is your birthday? - 2nd July baybeeeeeeee which I share with my birthday twin @obligatoryidolblog Hehehe we’re like Seungyoun & Yibo.

what is your favourite colour? - Red.

what’s your lucky number? - 2, 3, 4 & 7... I like to think...

do you have any pets? - Aye, I have 3. A Cat, a Bearded Dragon & a 25 yr old African Grey Parrot.

how tall are you? - 5″5′ aka cute height.

how many pairs of shoes do you own? - I have 5 that I use on the regular, then probably 5 older pairs I keep for different activities. (I use shoes until they have holes in them before throwning them away, or else it’s a waste.)

favourite song? - I have many, I should probably insert a playlist or something... but atm N.Flying- Let Me Show You.

favourite movie? - I’m a cinephile & majored in Film... That question is N/A... but anything by Wes Anderson... also my favourite childhood film is Matilda because I am one with Matilda.

what would be your ideal partner? - ♡ Kang Daniel... ♡ Goofy, foodie, & a highly introverted nerd that likes Spiderman & LEGO... but I can’t just pick someone like him off a supermarket shelf... So I’ll go with soft & trustworthy with a sense of humour. (Preferably a dark haired one, but I’m not picky. As long as we can lounge around reading manga & snacking, we good.)

do you want children? - Nope. However, if I did, I’d like to think I would adopt. Just makes sense. Thought of growing a sprog & popping one out it weird.

have you gotten in trouble with the law? - ...not yet... see A. to Running Q.

what colour socks are you wearing? - Currently none, my feet are warm... Please... No pictures...

bath or shower? - Shower, but occasionally I’ll soak in the bath. (It’s a must as I suffer from Hypermobility.)

favourite type of music? - Hmmm probably Rock/Indie/RnB.

how many pillows do you sleep with? - *sigh* Not enough... but 2 under my head with a memory foam plushie. Then 2 body pillows on either side of me & a shiba plush to hold whilst I sleep. (I can’t sleep without the latter, not for security purposes, hypermobility is just no joke peoples, the act of sleeping is very painful sometimes. & also I have boobs... if you have boobs too, you’ll understand.) 😬😬

which position do you sleep in? - 1 arm under a pillow, the free one holding something, 1 leg straight, 1 bent & sideways. (If I can sleep that is... lmao) 🥴

what don’t you like when you’re sleeping? - Noise. & Light. I’m an extremely light sleeper. I can’t sleep without earplugs & an eye mask or else I will murder someone, so please do not try to talk to me as I fall asleep. Also warmth. If we be hugging whilst sharing a bed, do not be offended if I take breaks. ♡

what do you have for breakfast? - I don’t like breakfast, but it’s important to eat it so I usually have a Nature Valley biscuit & a bottle of water, does me fine til dinnertime. (& by dinnertime, I mean lunch. Not dinner, as I call that tea. Don’t ask questions, I’m from Jon Snow land.)

have you ever tried archery? - Nope, I was banned from ever trying but I’ve always wanted to. It’s badass. (L.S.S: I used to own a paintball gun & was a VERY good aim...)

favourite fruit? - Strawberries & Cherries . My party trick is the thing with the stalk... FYI.

favourite swear word? - B*stard. My family is part Scottish 🇫🇮 so it’s fun to say & hear. Also I grew up watching Sean Bean in ‘Sharpe’ so it feels right as he wasn’t born too far from where I live.

do you have any scars? - Aye. Oh boi do I, but people barely notice them until I bring them up. I have a Harry Potter-esque one from when I split my head open as child that’s mostly covered by freckles... a pretty cool one on my right ear from when I fell into a stack of VHS tapes that I’d made into a castle... several on my knees... a small one above my upper lip & the most recent one is on a boobie from when I had my heart monitor implanted. It sorta looks like a ‘W’ or a little butterfly... Kinda cute I must say.

are you a good liar? - I have been known to spin a tale or two for comedic purposes.

what’s your personality type? - INFJ (It hasn’t changed in years, so I stand by it.)

what’s your favourite type of girl? - Human. & Alive & Nerdy.

left or right handed? - Right, but slightly ambi depending on the task.

favourite food? -  Cake. Or an English roast.

are you clean or messy? - Clean, but if I’m stressed, you bet my room will be a mess.

favourite foreign food? - Korean Seafood Pancake & pork buns, basically any kind of sweet or savoury buns. GIMME.

how long does it take you to get ready? - Depends on the day, but 30mins if I’m showering & dressing & drying my hair. (It’s pretty long, I need a haircut)

most used phrase? - “Gotta risk it. To get the biscuit.” Amongst many others.

are you a good singer? - Who knows. I hate Karaoke.

do you sing to yourself? - If no-one is around, then yes. But when with friends you’ll find me singing my own parodies to popular songs for my own amusement. The most popular is Jealousy (KFC) by Monsta X.

biggest fear? - I shall not reveal this incase my enemies are reading... but I’ll say humans. They’re very scary.

do you like long or short hair? - On myself... long, but I am jealous of people that can rock the short hair.

are you into gossip? - Nah, aint got time for it. Have too many films & dramas to watch in my free time & himbos to simp over.

extrovert or introvert? - Ambi, but highly introverted. Humans irk me & drain my mental battery. I need all the juice to get through a single day.

favourite school subject? - Art & Media.

what makes you nervous? - Everything & Nothing.

who was your first real crush? - Ooof. Hard pass.

how many piercings do you have? - I used to have my ears pierced as a kid, but they’re closed up now, I would like the top of my right ear pierced though. I think that looks really cool.

how fast can you run? - Very fast. Faster than The Flash. Probably even faster than Koro Sensei. Definitely Mach 20+. My brain thinks even faster than that. It’s a gift. Fast & Furious who? Fast & Furious Me is what it is.

what makes you angry? - People without manners. Also people who aren’t open minded & do not think before they speak. Words scar.

do you like your own name? - Aye, I do. It means ‘to bind/snare’ & also ‘noose’. In Scottish Gaelic it’s ‘Beathag’ [Bey-ahk] which means ‘Life’. Which I find pretty cool. I like all my names. Middle & last name include. They have nice meanings.

what are your weaknesses? - My own feelings.

what are your strengths? - My own feelings. I’m also extremely loyal. I’ll do anything for my friends.

what is the colour of your bedspread? - Currently black & white. Chic.

colour of your room? - Cream, but I’m moving soon, so who knows.

-le fin-

tagging: @24hoursofdaisy @ceruleansoleil @summerstormsandbacon @wdzday6 @mypansy @lovelyeo & anyone else that wants to join.

[artificialqueens]

Come Home to My Heart, Chapter 7 (Lemyanka) - Plastiquedoll

read on ao3 ✨| previous chapters

A/N: I don’t know if I can say this but this is one of my favorite chapters I’ve written and I’m so excited I can finally share it! it’s literally two people driving around but it matches the song I guess… I hope you enjoy it and thanks for reading it! <3

-7-

“So Lemon thinks I’m dating you.” Priyanka used the home phone to call her friend the day after their night out.

It was almost noon and Priyanka’s hangover had abandoned her body after drinking a gallon of water and taking a long -long- shower. She was walking around the house with the phone in one ear and a half-empty cup of coffee in the other. Her parents were at her sister’s place, having lunch with the kids so she had the house for herself –and when you’re hangover no matter how much you love kids you do want to be alone.

Denali burst into laughter. “Does she?” Her voice sounded distorted after singing all night.

“Well, thank you for being so considerate and laugh at the possibility of dating me. At least you didn’t do it on my face.”

“It’s not that… I’m sorry. You’re gorgeous for what matters.”

“You’re still laughing.”

“It’s your telephone connection. But wait, are you going to tell her the truth?”

“Eventually, if she asks again… Until then, would you mind if I play dumb with it?”

“Priyanka, oh my God… You’re so silly.”

“Okay, I’ll take that. But let me be potentially unrealistic for a moment here… she might be jealous of you.”

Denali gasped exaggeratedly.

“Quit making fun of me, you bitch.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry… This is just so entertaining for me.”

“I’m sure it is.”

“But the night ended up well for you two, right? Progress… character development?”

“She was drunk and called me Sprinky before I pushed her into a taxi.”

“I love Sprinky! Aw, you guys, pet names already.”

“That hardly qualifies as a pet name but…”

“Tomayto, tomahto, same thing.”

It really was Denali the one who lived in a fantasy world.

“I gotta go. I need to pick some groceries from the supermarket.”

“Okay, bye Sprinky!”

Priyanka clicked her tongue. “Bye. Bitch.”

Her mother had given her a list of things to buy since she was staying in all day and she said her lazy ass needed to do something productive, -she didn’t say it like that but that was what Priyanka heard when she was still wasted on her bed.

She had taken her car to the supermarket that was in the center of the city since it was the biggest one around. On her way there, she noticed the engine coughing a little more than usual but she downplayed it when the noises stopped.

The day was sunny and hot, it warmed her skin and made it glow as she drove to the location. She had grabbed a pair of denim shorts that were on top of her suitcase –luckily, since she hadn’t unpacked yet- but she had to dig some more to find an ombré knitted white and blue crop top she had brought, then complimented the outfit with a pair of sandals and vintage round orange sunglasses. After brushing her hair a little, she was ready to go.

She got to the store, picked a shopping cart, and wandered through the aisles with her mother’s list in her hand. She occasionally lifted her feet and slid with the cart when no one was watching. Then she got distracted whereas she was goofing around and almost crashed it on the cereal aisle, fortunately, no one saw that.

Well, almost no one.

“Jesus Christ you’re going to kill someone with that.”

Priyanka stopped in her tracks when she recognized the voice right away.

Naturally, Lemon was there to see her making a fool of herself.

She was there, looking unimpressed as usual with a shopping basket on the floor next to her. Lemon was wearing a NYC t-shirt in pastel yellow, pink and blue, a pair of mom jeans, and white chunky sneakers that made her a bit taller. She also had a giant pair of white oval sunglasses with black glasses on -Priyanka only suspected the reason behind that fashion choice- she had her hair wet but tied into pigtails and lip gloss, lip gloss was never missing with her.

“Fancy meeting you here.” Priyanka mumbled.

“Can’t say the same,” she sighed. “are you following me or something?”

The brunette scoffed. “You wished…”

“Then move aside I’m trying to get the Froot Loops.”

Priyanka looked up and spotted the colorful cereal box above her head. “But the real question is can you get the Froot Loops?”

“Oh, fuck you.” She almost pushed Priyanka off the way but the other girl moved faster.

Lemon had to tiptoe and jump a little to reach for the box and Priyanka enjoyed every second of it.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” Lemon was surely grumpy that day, it was the hangover speaking.

“Not really.” She grabbed a box of Cookie Crisp. “I was wondering if you made it home alright after the state you left.”

“I did… thanks for pushing me into a taxi.” There was some of sarcasm there, Priyanka detected.

“Anytime.”

Lemon started walking and Priyanka followed her with her cart, at that point to mess with her some more.

“You still have that sweet tooth for the chocolate chip cookies…” The blonde observed.

Priyanka looked at the cereal she had chosen without giving it much thought. “I guess I do… You still like anything colorful and sugary.”

“Some things never change.”

But other things changed too much.

After roaming a little, at some point, they split and when Priyanka collected the rest of the items on the list she waited in line to pay for her shop. She saw the blonde when she crossed the automatic door with her grocery bags.

Priyanka slid the credit card and then left as well. She loaded the bags on the trunk, then sat at the driver’s seat and inserted the keys to turn on the engine. She tried a couple of times without significant results, the engine coughed a little and then when she thought she had it, it died again.

“C’mon girl, don’t do this to me now… I bought ice cream bars.”

The sight of smoke wasn’t a lovely view, to say the least. When she lifted the engine cover, she discovered it was worse than what she expected.

“Shit… shit, shit, shit… this is bad.”

She pulled her flipping phone from her back pocket and called her father who calmed her down but couldn’t do much in the distance; he suggested a mechanic nearby that could take a look at it.

Priyanka was losing her mind. She sat at the curb and buried her face in her hands.

“Looks like you could use a ride.” Lemon’s voice made her look at the girl.

“Not now.” She blurted out. “I don’t have time for your snarky comments so please refrain from saying anything you’d think is clever.”

Lemon lifted her sunglasses. “I’m not trying to get on your nerves; I’m legit offering you a ride.” Priyanka didn’t seem convinced. “Think for a moment, your groceries are going to go bad with the heat and no air conditioner.”

“The ice cream bars…” She was on the verge of tears. “Fine. Yes, I need a ride, would you be so nice and help me out?”

“Come with me, my car is around the corner in front of the drugstore.”

“Buying some aspirins?”

“Cut the slack I’m trying to do a good deed here.”

“For a change.”

They carried the bags to Lemon’s car around the corner and Priyanka raised an eyebrow as soon as she saw her car.

As expected, from all people, Lemon would be the one driving a sunny yellow Volkswagen New Beetle. They put the groceries on the trunk yet again and the blonde took a seat in the driver’s position, Priyanka sat on the passenger seat.

“A yellow car?” She questioned.

Lemon buckled up. “My dad gave it to me.”

“Your daddy bought you a pretty car? For real?”

She adjusted the sunglasses back on. “He felt guilty after getting re-married and I accepted it as a peace offering. Is that so terrible?”

“Of course…”

Lemon started the engine and moved the vehicle toward the roundabout, heading for Priyanka’s house.

“You have to turn right in the next street.” Priyanka indicated.

“I think I know where your house is.” Lemon murmured as she took a different way.

“Yeah, you could get there faster this way but you’re about to enter to a one-way street… on the opposite side.”

“Shit.” Lemon maneuvered her way out with a U-turn.

“Does everyone in New York drive like this?”

Lemon blushed. “This is my third time driving in town.”

“Did you drive all the way from the Big Apple alone?”

She shook her head. “Rita visited me there and then we traveled together.”

“You two get along for what it seems…”

“It took some time and adjustment. That was supposed to be our bonding trip but I’m pretty sure she secretly holds a grudge since I convinced her mother of making the bridesmaids’ dresses pastel yellow for the wedding.”

Typical Lemon.

“But her mother is nice, she makes my dad happy so I can’t complain.”

“What about your mom? How is she?”

“Christina is alright. She got signed by an important architectural firm two years ago and has been working non-stop since then. She dated a few men but nothing too transcendental. She still listens to ABBA on a daily basis and sings every song in the repertoire deliberately loud enough to embarrass me in front of people but she’s happy. She’s on a cruise right now having the time of her life probably, that’s part of why I’m here.”

“Good for her, good for Christina.”

“That’s what I said. I thought this whole thing of my dad marrying someone else was going to trigger her somehow but she’s proven me wrong when getting over exes is about. Maybe it helped a little that the woman her ex married is older than her but who knows.”

Priyanka chuckled.

Lemon turned the radio on, Give Me All Your Luvin played through the speakers.

It was nice, to get to talk with Lemon like that, forgetting all the fights and unresolved problems they had for a moment. If Priyanka closed her eyes for an instant she could almost picture them both chatting in Lemon’s room with the music playing on the radio and the smell of wet nail polish in the air.

But then, when she opened her eyes, she got back to reality in a world where they had missed seven years of each other’s lives. There was a time where she could tell exactly what Lemon was thinking of but now it was a different story, the blonde was inscrutable and Priyanka couldn’t predict her reactions or guess the words that would come from her mouth. There were many things she didn’t know about Lemon now.

“Do you like Rihanna?” Priyanka asked when they stopped in front of a red light.

“What?” Lemon turned her head. “What kind of question is that?”

The brunette shrugged. “A thought I had.”

“Of course I like Rihanna, what kind of monster do you think I am?”

“One that doesn’t like Rihanna… perhaps.”

Lemon laughed at how ridiculous the conversation was. She had to continue driving when the light changed to green.

“Rihanna’s first album came out seven years ago and she didn’t get the recognition she deserved until a few years later…” Priyanka explained. “so I never got to know if you liked her music and I’m asking it now because there are two types of people in the world, the ones who have the taste and the ones that are monsters and dislike Rihanna’s music.”

“Okay, I’m telling you I love her. In fact, open the glove compartment.”

Priyanka looked at her.

“Go ahead, open it.” She commanded.

She did as the girl said and when the glove compartment was opened, a pile of CDs boxes where revealed inside. The first of them was a copy of Loud by Rihanna and the next one Good Girl Gone Bad.

“I couldn’t bring all of them but I have a few of them here and others at home.”

“Fair enough.” Priyanka checked the other albums underneath.

The little collection included Circus by Britney Spears, Teenage Dream by Katy Perry, Survivor by Destiny’s Child, Overexposed by Maroon 5, The Sweet Escape by Gwen Stefani and Fearless by Taylor Swift –that last one was Rita’s, she explained- Priyanka inspected the CDs until she found one last album that was in the bottom of the box, it was a worn out copy of Spice World by the Spice Girls, nothing more and nothing less.

“Hey, this is the album you gave me before moving to New York, remember?” A smile grew wide on her face before the memory.

Lemon blushed till the tip of her ears. “I do… that’s actually the copy I used to have in my room… the one we listened to on my radio.”

“Is it?” Priyanka looked at it with admiration. The colors were a bit pale and the box had several scratches, it was clear it has a few years on.

“Yeah… the CD doesn’t work anymore but I still got it there.”

Priyanka looked at the blonde who had her eyes fixed on the road and her hands closed around the steering wheel.

“Why did you keep it?”

“Sentimental value.” Her voice tone was almost inaudible. “I guess I’m not that cold heart monster you think I am, right?” She sounded somber.

“That’s not what I said… I-”

“We’re here.” She announced when she stopped in front of Priyanka’s house. “I’ll help you with the bags and then we can go get the mechanic for your car.”

She got down from the car leaving Priyanka with the words stuck on her throat once again.

It was becoming a pattern now, right when they started getting along again or when they had a decent conversation, Lemon shut the doors and closed all the windows before Priyanka had the chance to break through her walls.

“Your house hasn’t changed at all.” Lemon observed when they walked in with the groceries.

“Ah, yeah. My mom didn’t fall for the charms of the Property Brothers.”

“Do you have the hots for Drew or Jonathan?”

Priyanka cackled. “I stand behind my mother’s beliefs in this one.”

They put the bags on the countertop, Priyanka rushed to place ice cream on the freezer and other products on the fridge before they got spoiled. Lemon folded the paper bags in the meantime.

“Do you have some water?”

“Yeah, here.” Priyanka threw a water bottle at her and the girl caught it in the air.

She opened her purse and took two aspirins and chugged them down with a water sip.

Priyanka just watched her.

“What?” The blonde asked.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I’m hangover, okay? Tequila is not my best friend… or vodka… neither of them.”

“That’s weird, judging by the way you drank yesterday you’d never guess.”

“Fuck off.” She drank some more water. “Now let’s go get the mechanic for that jalopy of yours.”

“Jalopy?” Priyanka gaped at her. “Excuse you, miss, but I paid that car with my blood, sweat and tears, and two part-time jobs.”

It was the car that was supposed to take her to New York, to Lemon.

“We should hurry then, I don’t know much about mechanics but the amount of smoke that engine released isn’t normal.”

“I know that.”

“Then, let’s go.” The aspirins probably were kicking in.

Before they left the house, Lemon stopped in front of the wall where Priyanka’s mother hung pictures of her and her siblings. In the past, there was a photo of the two of them in school but all over the years her mother probably had saved it just like Priyanka did with all the other Lemon memorabilia. The blonde cast an eye on a photo of the family’s matriarch with a group of children.

“Her grandchildren?”

“Yes, my nephews and nieces.”

“That’s cute… you’re an aunt now.” Priyanka recognized the softness behind her voice and it made her heart skip a beat.

They were back on the road again and Lemon followed the directions until they got to the mechanical workshop Priyanka’s father had suggested her to go. Priyanka explained the man in charge what had happened and then followed the girls with a tow truck.

Priyanka’s car was still where they had left it. It broke her heart to see it there in the streets completely abandoned.

The mechanic took his time to check the engine, he tried to make it work after adjusting some screws and move pieces Priyanka had never heard naming before. Lemon could’ve gone by that moment but she stayed with the brunette, she even shared her bubblegum with her when she noticed how stressed Priyanka was.

After thirty minutes, the man spoke with Priyanka. The diagnosis was not good and he explained that there wasn’t much for him to do. Priyanka felt the knot on her throat and the tears coming at any second. That was her car her baby… this couldn’t be the end of their adventures.

She was beyond surprised when she heard Lemon’s voice.

“But there must be something you can do about it.” She sounded assertive. “The chances are low but there are still chances, right?”

The man babbled some excuses about the car being old and even when it was in a good state; it was going to require some extra work.

“Then do the work.” The blonde continued. “That might look like a piece of junk for both of us but that’s her piece of junk and it means a lot to her so you will take it back to the workshop and do whatever you have to do to save it. Am I being clear enough?”

The man just nodded with wide eyes, maybe too scared to add anything else.

Priyanka was also speechless.

She watched the mechanic hooking her car to the tuck and then stared at Lemon.

“Thanks.” She blinked a couple of times. “That was amazing.”

“I’m sorry I called your car a jalopy.”

“She’s temperamental but it’s okay, I don’t think she heard you anyway.”

“I know you might think of me as this spoiled brat but don’t think I don’t understand what’s like to work hard to achieve something.”

“Thank you.”

“Now let’s go before that guy mistakes the junkyard for the workshop.”

“Hey!”

All was not lost.

That was what the mechanic had said once they left Priyanka’s car at the workshop. It was going to take a couple of days to have a better picture of the problem but maybe replacing some parts would make the difference.

Priyanka sighed of relief and almost hugged the man but then she saw the zeroes on the estimated budget for the repairs and decided to keep the hug for herself… she was more than thankful for having a job back in Toronto that would pay for the bills.

“Well, the good news is that she might live.” Priyanka announced when she got in the car with Lemon.

“There you have. He was just playing hard to get and I know about that.”

“Thank you, Lemon… for helping me so much today. You didn’t have to but still, you did.”

She started the engine. “You’ve done the same for me no questions asked.”

“Are you feeling better after the aspirins?”

“Yeah… I’m never drinking again I swear…”

“That’s a lie.”

“It is…”

“Do you even remember what you said? Last night?”

Lemon stopped in the red light. Her face was as pale as paper and she stared at Priyanka with big eyes, there was horror on them.

“What did I say?”

Priyanka started laughing.

“Priyanka, what did I say?”

The brunette ceased laughing. It was the first time Lemon called her by her name.

“You called me Sprinky and kept asking if Denali is my girlfriend.”

Lemon breathed again. “Thank God… it was just that…”

Priyanka was now puzzled. What else could she’d said?

“I remember that part, you never answered the question anyway.”

She sighed. “Denali is my friend. Just that… we’re friends. Are you happy now?”

Lemon kept driving, it became evening all of sudden.

“I don’t understand though, how did you get to the conclusion that we were dating? I mean, where did the idea come from?”

“Uhm… I’m friends with Kiara and Scarlett on Facebook…”

Traitors, both of them.

“Aha…”

“…and… well, sometimes a picture with you would appear… or pictures of you in nightclubs…”

“I’m so going to kill Scarlett. I told her not to post those…”

“I didn’t mean to assume anything but… I saw you and Denali together the other day and I thought… maybe…”

Priyanka took a deep breath.

“So you know… you know I like girls…”

She nodded.

“And are you okay with that?”

Lemon looked at her. “Why wouldn’t I? Of course I’m okay with that…”

There was a short silence between them, a part of Priyanka was relieved but she could feel her heart pounding.

“Don’t tell me that on top of you thinking that I dislike Rihanna you also consider myself to be homophobic or an ignorant asshole… that being the same thing.”

“I’m asking you.”

“Well, you’ll never have to question it again.” She sounded angry.

“I’m sorry… I take it back, you’re not a monster.”

Lemon’s face softened.

“It’s just… I think of Jan…”

Jan.

That name again, seven years after.

“Jan and her girlfriend Jackie are the one example of true love I have. My parents’ marriage didn’t work but Jan and Jackie… they are grossly in love, it’s disgusting and I love them so much.”

So Jan had a girlfriend… interesting.

“If they couldn’t be themselves and be together I would’ve lost all hope in love, to be honest.” She looked at Priyanka. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to but do your parents know?”

Lemon was probably one of the only people who knew Priyanka’s struggles with her family by first hand; they had spoken about it so many times before but never specifically on that topic.

“Yes.” She took a deep breath. “I told them a few years ago when my oldest brother was planning his wedding and they were trying to set me up with the son of their friends or something like that.” Priyanka tittered. “I told my mom first and she was more sympathetic, I had a long talk with her, lots of tears… then we hugged and she told me she loves me…”

Lemon did the unthinkable: she reached for her shoulder and gave it a little squeeze. It was a small gesture; it didn’t last longer than a few seconds –she was driving after all- but for some reason, it made Priyanka feel much better.

“My dad… it was a different story. It took him longer to accept it and I believe he’s still digesting it so we don’t talk much about it. It was easier when I moved to a new city… It’s not like I had to need to hide who I am but there I could start from zero and be one hundred percent myself since the first moment.”

“I’m happy for you.” She smiled. “I really am.”

With all the resentment and the bickering, Priyanka had forgotten that Lemon could be sweet, that she could be caring, that she could be her friend.

A friend.

“So your friend Jan, she’s your roommate, right?”

“Yeah, the same.

“Is it Janice, Janelle, Janet…?”

“I’m quite sure it’s just Jan but even after these years they probably don’t even know my real name so it could be anything at this point…”

“And she’s dating Jackie.” Just to make it clear.

“They have the corniest love story that involves love confessions in carriage rides in Central Park, roses and singing songs under the starry sky.”

Priyanka almost choked.

“Exactly.” Lemon giggled. “They are a constant reminder I’m single as hell.”

This time, Priyanka choked for real.

At that moment, Lemon stopped the car, they had arrived.

In the distance, Priyanka spotted her parents’ car arriving shortly after.

Priyanka’s mom got down from the car and got closer to the unfamiliar car parked in front of their house meanwhile her dad put the car in the garage.

“Priyanka and… Lemon? Is that you?”

“Hello Mrs. Suknanan, it’s been a while.” She opened the door of the car and hugged Priyanka’s mom.

“I haven’t seen you in ages… You look all grown-up.”

“Don’t lie to her like that, mom.” Priyanka walked to where the little reunion was taking place.

Lemon rolled her eyes.

Here we go again.

“Are you staying for dinner? We’d love you to stay. I insist… I’m sure Priyanka would love it too.” She elbowed her daughter.

Traitors, even the ones you’d never expect.

“She wants to know if you’re staying for dinner…”

Lemon pulled one of her pageant full teeth smiles. “I’d love to, Mrs. Suknanan but I promised my dad I’d be back by now. Maybe some other day.”

“You have to promise it to me or Priyanka is never going to bring you back.”

“Mom! Leave her alone.” Priyanka wanted to hide under a rock.

“Actually, I’m the one who brought her tonight so that shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I’ll wait for you to stop by next week, alright?”

“I’ll be here.”

Priyanka raised her hand. “Am I invited?”

“We’ll think about it.” Lemon grinned. “Mrs. Suknanan, always a pleasure to see you, please give Mr. Suknanan my regards.”

“I will, dear. Give your father my best wishes.”

“I surely will.”

Priyanka’s mom got into the house leaving them alone again.

“She’s so lovely… why didn’t you pick any of that?”

“Ha. Ha.” Priyanka exaggerated her fake laughter.

“As much as I know you enjoy having me as your driver, I have to leave now.”

“Thanks again for that. My car might live another day because of you.”

“I know.” Lemon seemed pleased.

“I’ll make it up to you… somehow.”

“I’ll think of something just wait for it.” She opened the door of her car and Priyanka closed it for her.

“See you around, Lemon.”

“I knew you were stalking me.” She started the engine.

Priyanka threw her head back and released a laugh. “In your dreams, doll.”

The brunette watched the sunny-side up vehicle getting away and then walked toward her house with a smile on her face she couldn’t erase.

[sithsecrets]

Shock and Awe

May I request a Kylo fic in which he meets the reader, who is nobility on her home planet, and is smitten after he sees her skills on the battlefield? It can be however fluffy/angsty/etc as you want! Thank you so much! I love your fics!

Hello! I hope it’s okay to request, it not please ignore haha! I was wondering if you could write about the reader being like a new inquisitor or something like that and she’s super badass and Kylo is falling hard but he doesn’t know how to talk to her bc ~inexperience~. Thank you so much I love your writing!! I was hooked on Empress and check everyday to see if you updated hehe. Thank you for blessing us with your writing!!!!❤️

May I request Kylo Ren (pre TFA, before he was Supreme Leader) courting the reader who is royalty from a First-Order-occupied planet? You can make it as floofy or as smutty as you want! Thank you!!!

This fic is based of the above asks!

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Enamored with a fearsome, clever princess, Kylo Ren makes an auspicious alliance.

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1.4k words

Mentions: violence, gore, swearing

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Kylo is in awe of you from the moment he lays eyes on you.

The first time the two of you meet, the both of you are caked in blood and gore, fresh from fighting the Resistance. He’s watched you take down men twice your size, watched you tear through flesh and bone as if it were nothing to you. You kill without mercy, without regard for your enemies or who they are, and watching you slaughter person after person gives Kylo the most delicious chills he’s ever felt.

It is only after the fight, when all of your shared adversaries lay slain, that Kylo finds out who you are.

“I’ve never known a princess capable of slaughtering so many people at once,” Kylo tells you, and he cannot help but be transfixed by how beautiful you are, even caked in dirt and the very lifeforce of your victims.

You laugh at Kylo’s statement, saying that he and his men are welcome to convoy back to your palace with you, and the look in your eyes tells him that perhaps he has missed something. A joke, maybe? He’s always been awful with those, so he doesn’t take it too hard.

Back at the palace, Kylo only falls more and more in love with you with every passing minute. He comes to find out that you are a staunch diplomat, a real cutthroat negotiator. You tell several men from prominent planet not yet under the Order’s control to fuck off when they say something that offends you, and two more parties of hopeful ambassadors are soon bent to your will with little more than a smirk and a minute amount of compromise on your part. As he watches, Kylo grows almost jealous of your prowess. Fear has always been his go-to tool for forging connections, but you are a master craftsman when it comes to forming relationships, even with people you seemingly hate! Everyone wants to be on your good side, and it is obvious that your having your friendship is very advantageous for all parties involved.

And though Kylo does not want to be uncouth or simple-minded, he cannot help himself from acknowledging that you are enchanting. He is transfixed by you, by your beauty, and he wants nothing more than for you to take notice of him in a similar way. If Kylo were every given the privilege of being the object of your most intimate affections, he doesn’t know what he would do with himself! And stars, does it make him jealous, watching how men and women alike absolutely fling themselves at you. They shower you in jewelry and dresses and perfume, in promises of wealth and great power, and yet it seems as if you are not flattered by any of it. You always thank these hopeful suitors of yours, accepting their gifts graciously, but you never heed to their advances, never let them in close to you. In a disheartening revelation, Kylo supposes that this must mean you are otherwise attached, perhaps in secret, for you are unmarried and do not openly show off a partner. Of course, he is envious of this mysterious lover of yours beyond belief, but fair is fair— if someone managed to capture your affections before Kylo or someone else could, then they must be an exemplary person indeed.

So, Kylo continues on with the tasks he’s been given, following Supreme Leader Snoke’s directions to the letter. And, as he strikes down enemies and puts the fear of the Order into more than one diplomat, he spends any free moment he has marveling at you from afar. He thinks you can sense his interest in you, but it’s only a guess. Kylo likes to think that some of the smiles you send his way are a little more than friendly, but really, what does he know about things like this? It’s been so long since he spent time with a woman in such a fashion, and even longer since he attempted to date anyone. Kylo knows that he’s gifted in many ways, but he won’t profess to be proficient in the realm of romantic relationships.

After a few days, Kylo’s ready to give up on the whole concept of capturing your affections… until you corner him in the palace gardens.

He’s minding his business amongst the blooms and grasses, reading over some material about a distant planet, when you appear in front of him. Of course, you’re draped in a beautiful, rich gown, and the mere of sight you takes Kylo’s breath away. He begins to ask you how you are, but you seem bent on not wasting time with pleasantries.

“Do you like me?” you ask, and there is a curious look in your eyes that makes Kylo want to choose his words with the utmost care.

“I… Yes, of course. You have been a most wonderful partner in these negotiations. You are a very competent ruler, and the Order is very pleased with your performance.” You sit down across from Kylo in the other little chair that matches the one his, now seemingly keenly interested.

“I didn’t ask what the Order thought of me. I know that I’ve served them well,” you state, and there’s that confidence that Kylo loves so much. “I asked if you like me. Though perhaps that’s a childish way of putting it. Really, I’m asking you if you have feelings for me.” You quirk one perfect eyebrow in Kylo’s direction, and he feels as if he may pass out.

“Well, I— What do you mean?” Kylo stammers, though he knows perfectly well what you’re asking.

Had he really been so obvious?

“Do you think I’m pretty, Kylo?” you ask, apropos of nothing, and Kylo does his best to control his urge to get up and flee, to avoid this whole interaction entirely. You must think Kylo’s taking too long to answer, because you barrel on, saying, “It’s all right if you do. If I’m being honest, I find you rather handsome.”

You give Kylo’s body a lazy onceover, and the look in your eyes is enough to make his face burn.

Embolden by your compliment, Kylo decides that perhaps it is safe to tell the truth. “I think you are quite beautiful,” Kylo admits, earning himself one of your coy little smirks, “but I am just one of your many admirers. It seems that everyone we’ve met with this week wants to capture your affections.”

Though Kylo tries to swallow it down, just a tinge of jealousy seeps into his voice during the last bit of his speech. That seems to please you, though, for your smirk broadens into something more of a satisfied smile.

“Yes, many people want to be close to me,” you affirm, but it doesn’t seem to be with any pride or arrogance. Cutting your eyes towards Kylo suddenly, you settle back in your chair. “Is that what you want, too, Kylo? My affections?”

“You wouldn’t want to be with someone like me, Princess,” Kylo says to you, conscious of himself. “You would like someone more entertaining, I think, someone who it better at making friends.”

A scoff, and then you’re standing up as if you aim to leave. “I have plenty of court jesters already, Kylo Ren. I have no intentions of taking on another.” You pause and cock your head, allow your eyes to skim over Kylo’s face. “I want someone who doesn’t need my help, someone who knows what they want. I have come to realize that many of the people who throw themselves at me so violently are just leeches looking for a powerful, influential person to draw energy from.”

“I understand,” Kylo says companionably, because he does. He may not have many close friends or a lover, but that’s not to say that people haven’t tried to latch onto him before.

“If I were to give you my heart, would you make sure that none of those parasites ever got anything I wasn’t willing to give?”

Kylo is in love with you. He is in love with that calculating, mischievous glint in your eye. You are a true terror, he thinks, a force to be reckoned with.

He locks eyes with you, deadly serious. “If it would please you to be rid of them, all you would have to do is say so.”

For the first time, you grace him with a true, wide, bright smile.

“Finally,” you say, and you sound so, so pleased, “someone who understands what I want.”

[the-golden-ghost]

Hi! May I ask you for your top 5 (or 10) books by Jules Verne? :з

Yes! :D

To preface I’d like to (shamefully) admit that I’ve only actually read 6 books by Jules Verne and one (the Blockade Runners) was technically a short story. But for Christmas this year I received three more (The Fur Country, Around the Moon, and In Search of the Castaways) so I will be reading those soon after I finish the Haunting of Hill House, which will take my sum total up to 9!

In other news, and to answer your question:

1. 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea: Okay maybe it’s cliche to say that this one’s my favorite but I don’t care. It really is the Best. The magic of it all. The beauty and serenity and peace of an underwater existence interluded with the dark and distressing undertones. That overarching allure and underlying horror was just really good okay? I’ve been chasing that high in a Verne book ever since. It reminds me of a modern fairy tale. I’m not being glib; it’s the notion of this magical and isolated World of Wonders and... well, the “magic” in this case is advanced science but the effect is the same. But underneath that is... the curse. The danger. They are One and the Same and the ending is so bittersweetly tragic that I just can’t fathom it even now. I could go on more about the character dynamics and the descriptions of the world but I won’t. It’s a good one, though. It’s my favorite for sure.

2. From the Earth to the Moon: This one made me laugh. There’s just something so chaotic about a bunch of Civil War vets sitting around thinking of some way to waste time now that the war’s over and finally deciding “heck let’s launch a man into space. Why not” And then instead of using a proper rocket or anything else one would ordinarily think of when thinking of space travel - NO. A BIG OL’ CANNON. :D Although this one is short and has a slow start which leaves it cliff-hanging, it does have a sequel which I’ll be reading soon. And honestly the ending is funny enough on its own. Just “ah fuck now they’re stuck up there. Well, it was a good try.” Fin

3. Around the World in 80 Days: What can I say? This one’s just a classic. It’s short, it’s entertaining, it has that sweet Found Family Appeal that you sometimes find in a good Verne story. It’s got humor and more importantly it’s got Jean Passepartout as the World’s Best Valet and how could you go wrong with that?

4. The Mysterious Island: I’ve seen this one described as Verne’s master work and while I’m sure someone could accurately judge it as this, I’m not sure why?I’d like to know what metric they used. I really did enjoy it, though. The found family dynamic in this is *chef’s kiss* and the little Island Adventure-Mystery was grand. It also made me cry at the end. But all that being said it has its flaws in that it takes a long time to get going and never really... gets going. It’s slow, it’s ponderous, the stakes ramp up and then crash back down and stay down for 50 pages before ramping back up. And on and on. It’s not bad but it definitely takes dedication.

5. Journey to the Center of the Earth: Of Verne’s popular novels this was probably the one I liked the least. There’s a few reasons. It doesn’t have a found-family appeal. Actually, the characters don’t really get along in this one. Hans can’t communicate except in single words, and Lidenbrock and Axel just... have a really complicated relationship. Which was unique but I liked the “camaraderie and love between a ragtag group of weirdos” dynamic found in some of the stories above. It also took a long time to get going but unlike The Mysterious Island never really got going at all. I’m also not sure if Verne was going for a humorous vibe or a more serious one. It didn’t really have a vibe in either direction. Just a very strange little book.

And as a bonus, the top 5 on my to-read list as soon as I can find them:

 The Sphinx of the Icefields

The Green Ray

The Adventures of Captain Hatteras

The Carpathian Castle

Robur the Conqueror 

[ofsinnersandsaints]

one night and every morning after

rating: E word count: 8058 chapter: 1/?

AO3

you know the trope 'i had a one night stand and the next morning found out they were my boss?’ This is like that but with whitelighters and witches featuring Harry and Macy

Macy walked into the bar downtown knowing everything was going to change tomorrow when she and her brand-new sisters would accept their responsibility as the Charmed Ones.

She was still dizzy with how quickly everything had happened, how her quite, solitary life had changed so completely.

One minute she was an orphan and a scientist, and after a single phone call from her mother’s friend, she was suddenly a sister and a witch. Two things she never thought she’d be.

Charity had explained what it all meant, and how it was a choice they’d have to make together. It had taken a minute for Macy to be convinced, but when she’d learned that by saying no she’d never get a chance to know her sisters the decision hadn’t been that hard.

But it had been for Mel, who was all set to change the world, make it better, take back the power – until she’d learned there would be sacrifices. It was possible for witches to have relationships, to live and long and happy lives with those they loved, but it was next to impossible with a Charmed.

Mel had argued, and Macy had understood why because her sister had a girlfriend whom she loved, but the Elder had patiently explained that being in a relationship with a Charmed One was a quick way to a painful death.

Anyone they were with could be used as pawns, a weak point to pull and manipulate them and they could never allow themselves to be manipulated.

Who they were, what they’d do, it was all too dangerous to involve people who couldn’t protect themselves against magic.

Doors had slammed, but in the end Mel had done what was right, even if it hurt.

Macy didn’t have to worry about ending a relationship because she’d never had one, but when she thought about what was coming there was a deep emptiness in her chest at all the things she’d missed out on. She didn’t was want to die – and she was beginning to think it was a very real possibility – without experiencing some of that.

Maybe she wouldn’t like sex, maybe the entire thing would be boring, but she wanted to know for herself. Which is why she’d dressed up to enjoy her last night of freedom.

A deep red dress and matching lips, she’d put on her kitten heels and go hunting.

Macy scrunched her nose as she took a seat at the bar. She didn’t like the idea of hunting, it sounded too violent and too predatory. Perusing, she decided as she eyed the people congregating in the trendy bar. She’d always liked shopping even if she’d hadn’t always had the money to splurge.

Before coming here she’d looked up advice on how to pick up people at a bar, but the suggestions were either incredibly corny, or verging on sexual harassment so in the end she’d ignored all the articles and figured she’d just go on instinct. She ordered a glass of wine when the bartender asked what she’d like to drink, and imagined this would all be easier if she felt sexual attraction.

She could see someone, get horny, and bam! The whole virginity thing – social construct or not – would be over. Instead she’d have to-

“Ma’am?”

Macy looked over to see a guy who was a handful of years older than her, but had a kind face and a phone in his hand. “Would you please make sure no one spits in my drink? I have to take a call outside.”

“What if I spit in your drink?” she asked, and was immediately startled by the fact she was flirting.

He laughed. “Then I deserve it for picking such an untrustworthy person to guard my fermented grapes.”

Macy grinned, “I’ll make sure no one defiles your drink.”

“Thank you.”

The man stepped outside and when Macy looked over to see where he’d been sitting she realized he had ordered the same drink she had. There was also a book sitting next to his glass and because she was nosy she couldn’t help but pick it up to read the summary.

It had interesting premise and because she had nothing else to do she flipped to the front of the book and started reading. It was less than five minutes later that the gentleman came back and laughed. “You’re reading my book?”

She held it up so he could see she had a finger between the pages. “Don’t worry, I saved your spot.”

“Am I going to get it back?” he teased, bringing the wine glass up to his lips.

Okay, that zing was definitely sexual. She shifted on her barstool and held the book out over the empty chair separating them. “Sci-fi, huh?” she asked to cover the fact she was just a tiny bit turned on by the mouth and the hand delicately holding the glass stem. He had really good hands.

He looked adorably guilty at being caught and explained, “I like fiction, but I can’t handle anything historical.” He paused and then added, “I can’t handle the inaccuracies.”

“I can’t handle most science fiction,” she rested her chin on her hand and gave him a smile. “I can’t handle the inaccuracies.”

His eyes went bright which Macy hadn’t expected. Most people were vaguely interested or outright bored with science. “You’re a scientist?”

Macy nodded, and felt a warmth in her chest, just behind her sternum and would love to have the chance to study it, write it all down to investigate it later. “I am. I’m a geneticist.”

She’d come out here for a reason, and she’d almost resigned herself to finding some horny post-grad student or lawyer, but wouldn’t it be nice to spend time with a slightly nerdy British man? Macy moved over to the empty seat between them. “Dr. Macy Vaughn.”

His grin was warm honey, and his hand felt steady when he shook hers. “Harry Greenwood.”

“Nice to meet you, Harry.”

He shifted a little so he was facing more towards her and Macy forcibly stopped herself from trying to remember everything she’d learned about body language from entertainment tv. If she started down that path, she’d overthink herself right out of this bar.

“What brings you out on a quiet Thursday evening?”

Macy made a calculated decision, and braced herself for a bad reaction. “I’m trying to get laid.”

He froze, wine glass halfway to his mouth. Harry carefully set it down on the bar. “I appreciate you not saying that while I was drinking.”

“It’s good wine, it would be a shame to waste it,” she quipped back, and hoped she sounded like she knew what she was doing. Confidence, fake it till you make it.

His smile suggested he hadn’t outright dismissed her. “Is there something in particular which brings you out tonight instead of tomorrow?”

“I’m starting a new job tomorrow,” she admitted, and maybe she shouldn’t play poker because as soon as she started kind of lying, she started fiddling with her glass. She picked up the wine and took a small drink. “It’s going to take up a lot of my time, so there’s not going to be a lot of opportunity going forward.”

“Now or never?”

Macy nodded. “Something like that.”

“Well then,” he braced his feet on the barstool’s foot rest and lifted himself off the seat to pull out his wallet. “I suppose now it is.”

She watched as he took out a twenty dollar bill and laid it on the bar between their drinks. “Oh.”

Harry’s head tilted a little as he looked at her. “Unless I misunderstood?”

“No,” she rushed to assure him. “I just didn’t think it would be this easy.”

His laughter was big and bright and made Macy smile in return. “I can play hard to get if that would make you feel more comfortable.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

Harry slid off his stool and held his hand out to Macy and after half a second of hesitation she accepted it and let the nice man lead her outside. “Wait.”

He stopped and Macy pulled out her phone and without giving him any warning she took a picture of him. “There, now it’s uploaded to the cloud, so if you kill me I want you to know you’re not going to get away with it.”

“Smart,” he nodded approvingly. “Your place or mine?”

She’d moved out of the Airbnd room this afternoon, so her place was a room at her sisters’ house. Her mother's old room. “Yours.”

“Good call,” he took three steps to the left and turned to a door tucked into the brick exterior.

Macy laughed. “You live above a bar?”

“It’s not a particularly loud bar,” he explained. “And there’s a lot of great places to eat nearby.”

“Good food is important,” she agreed and followed him up the stairs to a second floor which was split into two apartments. “Do you have a neighbor?”

“Yes, so if I do murder you someone will hear you scream,” he teased.

“Oh good.”

He let himself into his apartment and Macy follow him inside and was surprised at how empty it was. It was a single room with a nice couch and a big television, but no personal affects. There was only a box of books near the couch, and an open suitcase near the end of the bed proving anyone actually lived here.

“Did you just move?”

“A week ago,” he answered, hanging his keys on a hook by the door. “I’m starting a new job soon, but I don’t know how long it’ll last so I’m waiting to see how it goes before I get the rest of my things out of storage.”

Macy nodded but didn’t say anything, her gaze fixated on the bed.

She wasn't going to second guess herself – she’d made the decision, and she was going to go through with it – but she kind of wished she had any kind of relationship with her sisters so she could call them from the bathroom to tell them what she was doing.

“You didn’t get a chance to finish your wine downstairs, did you want a glass?”

Macy turned and saw he was watching her, and because she didn’t know what he could see she intentionally relaxed her face. “Yes, thank you.”

He walked into the kitchen area, separated only by a breakfast bar, and Macy followed as he reached into the fridge and took out a bottle of white wine and poured them each a glass. Harry held one out to her and she accepted it.

She took a drink as he moved to put the wine away, and something about the alcohol made her tongue a little loose. “I’ve never had sex before.”

He stopped and stared at her and Macy thanked the Gods – was she allowed to thank God now that she was a witch? – for the distance and the low lighting because hopefully it meant Harry wouldn't be able to see the blush she could feel warming her cheeks.

“Okay…”

“It just seemed like something you should know,” she said, the words coming out so quickly they nearly tripped over each other. “And I might be weird, so I thought you should have some context. For the weirdness.”

His smile was a little amused, and he walked towards her with an easy gait. She liked that he wasn’t a man in a hurry to get somewhere. She wondered where he got his calm from, it was like he had all the time in the world and no rush to get to where he was going.

As she took a drink of the cool wine, she wished she had some of that for her own.

“We don’t have to have sex, Macy.”

“No,” she put the glass down and rested her hands on his shoulders and realized for the first time they were matched in height. All she had to do to was lean forward just a little and she could kiss him. “I want to.”

Harry watched her for a second, his eyes dipping down briefly to her lips before returning his gaze to hers. “Why me?”

Macy wished she had a way to explain it, she could barely understand it herself. It was if she'd gone to that bar because she'd known he would be there, as she knew the right man was just sitting with a book waiting for her to show up. But she couldn't tell him that, he'd think she was drunk or out of her mind so she looked around the kitchen – or what little she could see past his shoulders – and saw the teapot on his stove. “You like tea?”

“I’m British,” he said by way of answer, his voice was dry enough it made her laugh.

“Have you ever come home from a stressful day and made a pot of tea and it was just the right thing in the right moment?”

“Yes.”

“You’re my cup of tea, Harry.”

“Well,” he shifted forward so he was nearly pressed against her, his hands resting on the counter so she was trapped. But she didn’t feel caged in, she felt protected. “How can a man be expected to say no to that?”

It was a dangerous thing to have affection for what would amount to a one night stand, but Macy could feel the emotion burrowing its way into her heart.

And then he kissed her and she knew she was lost.

It was just a press of lips, nothing particularly sexual, but his chest was pressed against her breasts and he surrounded her, and it took a moment for her to realize he was waiting for her to take the lead.

Macy could feel herself overthinking the moment, her mind racing about angle and tongue and if she'd be any good at it. Almost as if he could sense her nerve he ran his hands down her side and back up again, stroking her like a pet. Somehow, for some reason, it worked and she was able kiss him back.

She ran her hands down his arms and was surprised by the muscle she could feel hidden beneath the soft sweater. She shifted her head to change the angle, her hands following the lines of his arm, taking one of his hands and placing it low on her hip.

He easily followed her lead, his long fingers pressing into the curve of her ass, pulling her body closer to his until she felt the impression of his arousal against her pelvis.

It was if someone had flipped a switch inside her, the tiny spark in her veins turned into a full fledged wildfire. She slid her arms around him, “More.”

The hand on her ass slid up to her back, his other hand coming up to frame her cheek. His tongue slid along the seam of her lips and she opened her mouth to let him taste.

To taste him back.

His tongue slid along the inside of her mouth, a slow, languid thrust which was so erotic Macy clung to him just to keep from melting. Macy tentatively followed his tongue back to his mouth, sliding along his lips and tongue and the sound Harry made encouraged her until they were taking turns licking into one another.

“Christ, Macy.”

Harry’s voice was breathless, a little desperate, and while she’d never considered herself the kind of woman who brought a man to his knees in was nice to know she could.

“I want to touch you, Harry,” she whispered against his cheek as her fingers found the hem of his shirt. He let go of her just long enough to lift his arms so she could tug the sweater off and drop it on the counter behind her.

He moved to wrap his arms around her again but she stopped him with a hand on his chest because she wanted to get a good look at him. She was going to explain herself, but her focus was easily distracted by the smooth expanse of his torso. Macy ran her fingers along his chest, down his sternum, marveling at how warm he was. When she traced along his ribs he jerked beneath her hand, a quick sound coming out of his mouth.

Macy looked up at his face and saw an embarrassed smile at the corner of his mouth. “Ticklish,” he explained with self conscious chuckle. “Don’t tell anyone.”

She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck so they were once again pressed up against each other. Macy was half a second from putting his hands back on her but he beat her to it, his hands covering her ass and squeezing possessively.

“I promise,” Macy began, her lips a breath’s distance away from his. “Your secret is safe with me.”

She could feel his smile against her lips, “My hero.”

He kissed her for what felt like hours, his hands briefly touching her curved over the layers of clothing, and while she loved kissing him she wanted more. Macy pulled back and turned in his arms, but that didn’t deter Harry in the least. He brushed her hair to the side and pressed his mouth to her neck, his tongue and teeth and lips learning her. Every time she'd gasp or moan he'd go back to the spot which had made her react as if he was carefully mapping every pleasure point.

“Harry,” she managed to get out. “My dress.”

There was a moment of silence and Macy chose to think he was getting his bearings, and then she felt the delicious slide of the zipper down her beck. The knuckles of his hand bumped along her spine, the feel of his skin on her was almost more than she could handle.

Macy could feel when his fingers hit her bra strap, hooking around it and tugging slightly. “May I?”

“Yes.”

Harry unhooked her bra and Macy had a quick moment of self doubt. Frustrated with herself she pulled her dress down to her hips and when she took off her bra she set it down on the counter before turning around.

He didn’t touch her, but the way he looked her was almost a physical thing. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

The curse coming from such a proper British man was a surprising turn on. “I’m not ticklish.”

Harry’s eyes went dark, “Duly noted.”

Macy held her breath, anticipation making her blood hot as he reached out to cup her breasts in his hands. His thumb brushed against her nipples, the hard buds tightening against the sensation. “Gorgeous,” he repeated, his gaze fixated on her breasts a second before he covered one of her nipples with his mouth. It was a hot, wet heat as his tongued teased her, his teeth a sharp contrast that had her moving against him.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his hand sliding down the curve of stomach to slip inside the silk of her underwear. She clung to his shoulders as his fingers found the slickness of her core, sliding against her with a wet friction she had used on herself in the past, but it was vastly different experience when it was someone else doing it. Her words were lost somewhere in her throat when he start licking and sucking on her other breast while his fingers teased her.

Macy didn’t know what to do with her hands, with her body, there was so much sensation she didn’t think her body could contain it anymore. She didn't want him to stop so she buried her fingers in his hair to keep him in place, but eventually his mouth made its way back up her sternum and neck until he could kiss her again.

This was not the proper, introductory kiss they’d started out with, or the sexy foreplay from before.

Instead, it was a dirty exchange of tongue and teeth and Macy was turned on she could have screamed when he pulled away to push her dress down to the ground. In what was possibly the most gentlemanly thing anyone had ever done for her, Harry picked up the dress and shook it out before laying it flat on the counter.

Her dresses wouldn’t have wrinkles when she put it on later.

“Come on, love.”

He took her hand and led her out of the kitchen and towards the bed and belatedly Macy realized she was still wearing her shoes and stopped long enough to kick them off. When they got to the bed Macy turned to kiss him again but he backed her up until her knees hit the bed.

“Lay down.”

Macy raised her brows, “Bossy.”

His grin was quick and charming and hit Macy right where she was hot and empty. “I promise, it’ll be worth it.”

“I have condoms,” Macy blurted out as she sat down on the edge of the bed. She was pretty sure the hot British stranger was about to go down on her, but when all was said and done she wanted him to fuck her and she’d come prepared. “In my purse.”

“Smart,” he gave her a quick, almost friendly kiss and went back to the counter where her purse lay and instead of going through it he brought it back and let her take the condoms out. Macy dropped her purse on the floor, put the condoms on the bed next to her.

“Now, where were we?” he asked, his eyes all but glittering with mischief. “Ah, yes.”

He went down to his knees in front of the bed, between her knees, and Macy resisted the urge to close her legs to his perusal. She knew she’d likely soaked through her underwear, but it didn’t matter because was pulling them down and she lifted her hips so he could take them off her.

“I do anything you don’t like, just say so,” he said, his full attention on her pussy before meeting her gaze with surprising seriousness. “And I’ll stop.”

Macy nodded, “Okay.”

“Now, lay down and let me see how many times I can get you to say my name.”

She laughed but did as told, shifting a little on the bed to get closer, then squealed when Harry pulled her towards him so her pelvis was at the edge of the bed.

And then he was tasting her.

But she couldn't stop thinking, couldn't stop analyzing everything that was happening. Was she enjoying this? What did she enjoy the most? Did she taste good? Did it matter if she did?

When nipped at the skin on the inside of her thigh. "I must not be doing this properly if you're capable of thinking quite so loud."

Macy covered her face with her eyes. "I'm sorry. I told you I was going to be weird."

He ran his hand along her leg, another soothing gesture. "It's not weird, I just want to make sure you're enjoying yourself."

"I am," she promised. "I can't turn my brain off."

"Watch me."

Macy's eyes widened, "What?"

"Watch me," he repeated and she couldn't help but do as he suggested. His head was wedged between her thighs, and he kept his gaze on hers as he flicked his tongue against her clit in a slow rhythm so she was anticipating each touch like the sweetest torture she could imagine.

It was so erotic, she stopped thinking completely.

“Fuck,” Macy hissed, her fingers fisting in the sheets as his mouth went to work on the most sensitive, private part of her. Jesus, there was no way all men were this good at giving oral, he was going to ruin her for every other guy.

His tongue teased her entrance, her clit, building the tension and want until she was desperate for a release. She shamelessly moved against his mouth, trying to get the pressure she was all but dying for. “So impatient,” Harry murmured against the skin of her thigh. His lips left a tiny trail along her skin.

She felt his finger against her, a light touch at first, and then the blunt end of his forefinger was sliding into her. “Harry.”

His finger slid into her easily, and her pussy automatically clenched around the single digit.

“You are so hot and wet,” he praised, kissing her hip, her stomach, wherever he could seem to reach while his finger worked her into a frenzy. “My cock is so hard, Macy. I want to be inside you so desperately.”

She wanted the same thing, but she knew what he was doing. Using his fingers would stretch her, get her used to being invaded in such a lovely way so when he finally filled her it would only be pleasure, no pain.

Macy moved against his hand, wanton and wanting. “Harry, please.”

“Tell me what you want, love. I’ll give it to you.”

She tried not to blush at using the words, he was finger fucking her for crying out loud, the words shouldn’t feel so dirty. “Another finger,” she told him. “And your mouth.”

Macy could feel the wicked smile against her skin. “My pleasure.”

He slid two fingers into her, keeping up the steady rhythm. She wanted it faster, but whenever she tried to speed up the pace he pressed his hand on her stomach to still her. It was the sweetest agony, especially when he pressed his mouth against her cunt.

He licked and sucked her clit, and when she cried from the orgasm he didn’t miss a beat.

Harry kept it up, thrusting his fingers in and out so she could hear the sound of her own arousal, the wet sound almost loud in the quiet room where the only other noise was their breathing. He drove her up again, and the orgasm this time was so quick and sharp she nearly screamed his name as she crashed and fell apart.

His gaze was hot on hers as he pulled his fingers from inside her. “That was by far, the sexiest thing I have seen in my life.”

Her thoughts were briefly distracted by the slickness still on his fingers. Her arousal, and what he did to her, evident down to his palm.

“What’s the verdict?” She asked, vaguely surprised she could form full sentences. He raised a single brow and she had the bizarre desire to brush her finger along the curve of his brow, a stupidly affectionate gesture which had no place here. “How many times did I say your name?”

He laughed and it made everything light and warm inside her. “I lost count, but don’t worry, I intend to return the favor.”

“Oh?”

“By the end of the night, you’ll have lost count of how may times I’ve made you come.”

He said it like a promise, but the way her cunt clenched at the words, it felt like a warning.

Macy picked up the condom and carefully removed the wrapper. She looked up at him through her lashes, and saw he was already undoing his belt. “May I?”

“I truly wish you would.”

She set the condom down again and batted away his hands to finish undoing the button and zipper of his jeans, pushing them down his hips, taking his boxers with him. Macy was a doctor, and while not a medical one, dicks were not anything particularly new to her.

But this was Harry, and soon it would be inside her, and she wanted to take a moment.

“Can I touch you?” Macy asked, because it seemed polite to ask.

The muscles in his face were almost as tight as his voice when he nodded. “Yes.”

She brushed her thumb against his head, the precum sticking to her finger as she touched the length of him. Macy was careful with her nails, not wanting to hurt him, but she could tell by the unsteady breath of the man above her that she wasn’t hurting Harry in any way.

“If we had a little more time, I’d love to be in your mouth.”

Macy had the quick, erotic image of her tongue and mouth on his erection, taking him in and sucking him off. She wished they had the time as well, but this was one night and it was nearly over, so she took the condom and slowly rolled it on.

“Back on the bed,” he said, his voice taking on a dark, husky quality.

With a nod Macy moved further back on the bed, but didn’t lay down, instead resting her weight on her elbows so she could watch him.

He took his pants the rest of the way off, kicking off his shoes and socks before crawling on the bed towards her.

It might have been the hottest thing she’d ever seen.

When he kissed her she fell back onto the mattress, his body covering hers. She’d always pictured herself on top during sex, taking control, but as his weight settled on her and pressed her into the mattress she realized she’d been mistaken.

It turned out she liked losing control, enjoyed the feeling of floating along a river and being taken for a lovely, sometimes wild ride.

He kissed her like he had all the time in the world, his leg sliding between her thighs. As they made out Macy rode his leg, knowing she was getting her arousal all over his skin and not caring as the friction gave her some relief for the roiling need once again building up inside her.

His hands slid down her sides, her ribs, covered her ass and brought her tighter against him.

They couldn’t be any closer, Macy thought as she ran her hands over his shoulder and down his back. If they were, they’d be a single entity, unable to escape each other.

Harry sat up on his knees, and carefully moved Macy’s leg so he was between the v of her thighs. “Ready?”

Macy nodded and couldn’t help but touch him, her fingers tracing the lines of the muscle in his forearm. “Ready.”

He braced himself at her entrance, hands on her thighs as if worried she might get up and walk away. Macy couldn’t imagine being anywhere else on earth but exactly where she was.

Harry pressed into her, a slow movement which slowly spread her. When she could feel the tip inside her, she took a sharp breath. “Are you okay?”

Macy nodded, “More.”

“I have to go slow,” he told her, but she could hear from his voice doing so was difficult for him. “My fingers will have prepared you, but taking all of me is going to be a bit different. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Instead of answering, Macy took his hand and linked her fingers with his and impulsively kissed the back of it before resting their intertwined hands above her head on the bed.

Another inch and Macy gasped, moving against him, wanting to feel everything possible.

His hand tightened in hers as he shifted above her, resting his weight on his elbow. “Christ, Macy, you’re going to fucking kill me.”

“I’d rather you just fuck me,” she quipped back. She’d intended for it to sound like a tease but instead it came out a little breathless, revealing every bit of want building inside of her.

“I’d never refuse a lady.”

He slid almost completely out before moving back inside her, and the stretch was like nothing she’d ever felt before. Macy quickly caught on to the rhythm, raising her hips to meet him as he filled her a little more each time.

And then he was in her completely, she could feel his pelvis against hers, his breath hot against her throat. But he didn’t move again. It wasn’t a bad sensation, in fact it was almost erotic the way she wanted to move but couldn’t because the weight of him kept her still. “Harry?”

“You might not need a moment to adjust,” he started, taking in a deep breath. “But I do. You feel fucking amazing and I’m liable to make a fool of myself.”

Macy ran her free hand down the back of his neck, trying to soothe him. “I don’t mind.”

He laughed, a huff of breath, “I do.”

“You’ve given me more than enough pleasure, Harry.”

He raised himself up and looked down at her. “Can you take a little more, Macy?”

It might have sounded like a challenge or a dare coming from anyone else. But instead it sounded like an honest question, the kind someone would ask with their heart in their throat. “Yes, Harry. I can."

And then he started moving in earnest. The pace he set would have been brutal if Macy hadn’t been desperate for it. He no longer pulled out as much, keeping his thrusts short and quick enough Macy was barely able to keep up with him.

She let go of his hand, wrapping her arms around him to keep him close, and this time she paid no attention to her nails as they dug into his skin.

“Macy,” he murmured into the curve of her throat and she knew he was close to his end.

“Touch me, Harry,” she whispered into his ear. “Take me with you.”

He reached between them, where their bodies were entwined and found the hard little pearl of her desire and pressed down on it hard.

Macy’s entire body stiffened, her scream a silent thing as she climaxed so hard around him she could have sworn the entire room went bright with a white light.

Above her, Harry said her name as he found his own release and for a minute they lay there together, a slight sheen of sweat covering them both.

“Am I crushing you?”

Macy smiled against his cheek and shifted a little beneath him, her arms wrapped around his middle. She didn’t want to think about why she was so reluctant to let him go. “No, it’s kind of nice.”

Despite her answer Harry shifted a little, raising up on one elbow and it was nice to just look at him. His hands absently ran over her skin, and while it was no longer arousing it was incredibly intimate and that dangerous flutter in her chest took hold. “You know, when I went down to the bar last night I thought I’d get through the rest of my book, and maybe a couple glasses of wine.”

Macy smiled up at him. “Sorry for ruining your night.”

He laughed and gave her a kiss, “Hardly ruined, love. I’m never going to be able to pick up that book again without thinking about what it lead to. I’m going to use the bathroom.”

When he pulled out it was an odd feeling, but every muscle in Macy’s body was loose and warm. She could run a marathon or sleep for twelve hours.

With that thought Macy got up and went to the kitchen, feeling a little weird walking through a stranger’s apartment naked.

She paused at the sink, were they still strangers if they’d given each other orgasms?

Probably not, she decided as she found a glass and filled it with water. She drank half of it while collecting her clothes and putting her underwear back on.

“You’re welcome to use the bathroom if you want,” Harry said as he stepped out.

“Thanks,” she handed him the glass as she walked past him. “Hydrate.”

Macy used the restroom, freshened up as best she could and when she came out Harry had put on loose fitting pajama pants and was standing in the sitting area. They sat low on his hips and Macy took a breath in order to resist the urge to jump him.

“I hope the tea was to your liking.”

She grinned as she walked past him to grab her dress. “It was, thank you.”

His eyes were on her as she got dressed, she could feel the weight of them on her skin as she slipped on her shoes. “You don’t have to go, you know.”

Macy looked up, surprised by the suggestion, but immediately shook her head as she zipped herself up. It would have been nice to have him do it, but Macy didn’t trust herself. “I can’t.”

She walked towards him and stopped less than a foot away from. “If I don’t go now, I won’t go at all.”

“Hardly the worst idea.”

Her smile was soft as she leaned forward and kissed him. “I’ll see you around, Harry.”

He lightly pinched her chin between his thumb and finger and brought her back for another, longer kiss. “I’ll see you later, Macy.”

If only she’d known then how right he was.

Harry was distracted and staring at a wine glass when he should be getting ready to meet his new charges.

It had been a long time since he’d taken a woman to his bed. His job was dangerous, and required him to leave at a moment’s notice which was hardly conducive to romantic entanglements. And the idea of a one night stand had never particularly interested him.

And then Macy.

He’d seen her the moment she’d walked into the bar and had been utterly fascinated by her. She was dressed like she was there to meet someone, but her eyes looked all business as she took a seat by herself at the bar.

Harry had pretended to read as she watched her. She hadn’t checked her phone as if letting someone know she was there and he’d begun to wonder what she was about: a beautiful woman in a beautiful dress sitting alone in a bar.

Then Charity had called, and Macy had been so adorably awkward and funny he’d rather wished he didn’t need to step out and talk to the Elder who would be updating him on his new charges. He knew they were Marisol Vera's daughters, only one of which he'd already met.

He’d much rather have stayed and talked to the pretty brunette with the laughing eyes.

When she’d propositioned him, nothing had shocked him more and the idea of taking a stranger to bed suddenly had merit.

She kissed like an angel and had been wetter than sin.

And suddenly he was half hard thinking about her spread out on his bed. Frustrated with himself he grabbed his sweater felt a twinge from the marks Macy had left on his skin. He could have healed it easily enough, but for reasons he’d rather not consider he didn’t want to get rid of those last vestiges of her.

In the back of his head he heard three women say his name, and with a deep breath he orbed from his apartment to an attic on the other side of town.

He’d done this enough times he could orient himself to new places rather quickly and took in the cluttered space, Charity, Macy, Mel and the young woman who was likely Maggie.

Wait.

Macy?

His gaze slid back to hers and saw the same shock he felt written on her face.

Harry tried to remain composed, but it was a difficult thing to do when the woman who had screamed his name last night was standing in front of her looking as if she’d just seen a ghost. Meanwhile her sister yelled at him as though she’d like to throw him out the window.

Over Mel’s voice, Charity announced she’d let the four of them get to know each other and left, leaving him alone with the Vera-Vaughns.

“You know each other?” Macy asked, her eyes never leaving his.

“He’s the unqualified jackass took over mom’s position at the university,” Mel snapped. “And the bane of my existence.”

Harry didn’t take it personally and instead turned to the youngest witch whom he hadn’t formally met yet. She stepped forward with her hand out, immediately friendly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

He shook her hand but his gaze swung briefly back to Macy before returning to Maggie who watched him as if she saw more than he wanted her to. He cleared his throat and adjusted his tie which was still perfectly in place. “Apologies, it’s just not everyday one is in the presence of the Charmed Ones. It’s lovely to meet you as well.”

Harry looked back at woman who had her hands linked together in front of her.

“And you must be Macy,” he said as he walked towards her. He had no idea how she wanted to play this, but without the ability to speak with her telepathically he had to go on instinct. The fact she hadn’t immediately let her sisters know she knew him suggested she’d like to keep their night a secret as well.

“I am.”

Unlike Maggie, Macy didn’t step forward to shake his head and for that Harry was grateful. He didn’t think he’d be able to retain his composure if he touched her right now.

“A pleasure,” he gave them each a nod and tried not to hold Macy’s gaze too long. “I presume you all have been brought up to date on my role?”

“We scream for help and you show up?” Maggie asked and he appreciated her attempt at brevity when it was clear there was a little bit of worry in her eyes.

“Something like that, yes. I’ve also been around for a while so I’ve got a certain amount of magical knowledge you might have need of from time to time.”

“How old are you?” Macy asked as if she couldn’t help herself.

“Technically? I’ll be a hundred in a few years,” and he got a little kick out of the surprise on the women’s faces. “But I died when I was 37.”

“Died?” Mel asked, she sounded so concerned he was touched, especially since most of the time she wanted to murder him.

“It was a little thing,” he tried for a smile. “And it didn’t take.”

Maggie pulled out of her phone and read it quickly, letting out a noise Harry couldn’t quite decipher. “Kappa stuff,” she announced to the room. “I’ll be back later for whatever witchy stuff comes up. See you later, Harry.”

“I look forward to it.”

Mel let out a heavy sigh, “And I’m going to finish packing up Niko’s stuff along with all of my hopes and dreams for the future. Yay. Are you going to hang around for a while?”

Harry nodded and didn’t look at Macy. “I’m at your disposal.”

Mel snorted. “Weird, but I can get behind it. Do you need anything Macy?”

“No, I’m good thanks.”

With a nod Mel walked out of the attic and Harry was left with the woman he’d spent a memorable night with. And for someone who had been alive for almost a century, that was saying something.

She was watching him as she if couldn’t quite figure him out and, like he had the night before, he waited for to take the lead.

“You’re more formal.”

It wasn’t what he’d expected her to say, but then she was constantly taking him by surprise. “This is my job, Macy.”

“I’m your job,” she said it slowly like saying it out loud made it real.

“Yes.”

Macy shifted from one foot to another, and he could practically feel the nerves coming off her in waves. “Did we break any rules?” she asked.

She was completely covered from shoulder to toe, the only bit of skin he could see was at the v of her shirt, but in the bright light of day, in her mother’s attic, he could easily remember every bit of skin beneath. It was…distracting.

“Not technically.” Macy’s brows lifted and he stepped forward to explain, keeping his voice low in case anyone was nearby and might overhear. “Relationships between whitelighters and witches are forbidden by the Elders, but as neither of us were aware of the other’s profession when we met I imagine it would be forgiven.”

“Forbidden? That’s a strong word.” He didn’t say anything as he could see the pieces siding into place for her. She wasn’t a particularly expressive person, but it was in the eyes; Harry could see a whole world happening behind them. “It’s a conflict of interest.”

“Just so,” he nodded. “Can’t have a whitelighter playing favorites when lives are on the line.”

Macy crossed her arms and something about the gesture made him want to walk towards her and give comfort, but he wasn’t stupid enough to follow through on the gesture. “Okay, then.”

She said it with such certainty Harry wasn’t sure he understood. “Okay?”

“Okay,” she repeated. “It was always meant to be a one time thing, so it’ll stay that way. Probably shouldn’t tell my sisters though.”

“Why is that?” he asked as he fought the kneejerk instinct to be offended. “Are you worried they might think less of you?”

He adored the fact she actually thought about it. She took every question as a serious matter, and it made her one of the most honest people he’d ever met. Which was why it was a little odd she wanted to keep something from her newly found family.

“No, I don’t think they’d think any less of me but…” the words trailed off as she looked at him. “Last night was personal. Private.”

Harry couldn’t agree more, but the idea of never again while also looking at her every day was something he couldn’t quite wrap his head around. "In that case, I can take care of that for you."

"Take care of what?" Macy asked.

Suddenly feeling like a greenlad of 17 rather than 37 Harry swallowed and gestured vaguely at her. "You have a hickey."

Her eyes went wide and she moved to the dusty mirror hanging from a stud and moved her hair to see the barely noticeable bruise on her neck just below her neck. "Oh my God, I have a hickey." She turned back to look at him, but she seemed more shocked than angry which was a relief. "Do you think they saw?"

"I doubt it," he consoled. "I only noticed because I knew where to look. I can heal it."

Macy nodded and pulled her hair aside so Harry could put his hand an inch above her skin, the light pulsed briefly and the bruise was gone. "There. All better. And my apologies, I can't remember the last time I gave someone a bite mark."

She nodded and rubbed her hand over the spot he'd healed. She looked back at the mirror as if to make sure it was gone. "Is this why I went home with you?"

"I don't understand the question," he admitted.

"You're my whitelight," and the words were as odd for him to hear as they must have been for her to say. "Is that why I felt safe enough to trust you last night when every bit of common sense says I shouldn't have?"

Harry considered his words, wanting to give her an honest answer. "No, it wasn't why."

Macy nodded but didn't look completely convinced.

He stepped forward so his face was right behind hers in the mirror. "As a whitelighter my job is to help you, protect you, but the bond isn't a forgone thing. Trust is not a given. If you trusted me last night I'm honored, but it had nothing to do with our... professional connection."

Her lips quirked up at the corners and a little bit of tension left the room. When she turned around her shoulders weren't as stiff, "Professional connection?"

"There is a connection," he admitted with a shrug. "If you call out, I'll hear you. I'll come."

"Professionals," she repeated as if the word was important. "Colleagues."

"Colleagues it is then.”

Macy looked down at his hand when he extended it out between them.

“This is going to end so badly,” she remarked, but sounded almost darkly amused by the prospect as she shook his hand.

Harry had to agreed as her fingers curved around his because his first instinct was to pull her to him and ravish her on the dusty couch pushed up against the wall.

This was going to end very, very badly indeed.

[sunaddicted]

007 Meet 007 (Bond 25)

Item #11 Scavenger Hunt 2020

The ability to work well under pressure had been one of the requirements for the job; Q hadn’t thought much of it at the beginning: hacking generally was the kind of activity that put one under the kind of pressure that felt like a sword being dangled above one’s head, waiting to fall as one battled to get in and out of someone’s precious system and data as soon as humanly possible.

He obviously hadn’t been very familiar with the pressure of watching an agent court death, anxiety squeezing his heart at every shot that rang too loud in his headset and at any splotch of blood that widened far too quickly on a tailored shirt; he couldn’t have prepared for it in any way if not on the job, building resistance to the sight of his agents crippled by enemy fire or their own stupidity.

But Q had nerves of steel and while he did feel for the men and women out there, risking their lives for civilians who didn’t even know the kind of horrors they were being sheltered and protected from, he had quickly adapted to shutting his emotions out while the headset was on: the calmer he managed to stay, the higher the probabilities he could actually help the agents to get out of the field alive - even if a bit banged up or in need of serious medical attention.

However, he hadn’t been prepared to deal with the kind of tension that sprouted from excessive posturing between two titans. 

Of course, he had been warned that Bond and the new 007 hadn’t exactly clicked it off and Q had to wonder how anyone had expected them to when James had refused for so long to even entertain retirement, clearly extremely attached to his title and his career - he obviously wouldn’t take it well to being confronted by someone wearing what had been his codename and his identity for literal decades: he was only human, afterall.

Still, Q definitely had underestimated the pressure that would end bottled up in his office, seemingly permeating every single atom of air in a way that felt rather suffocating - the only thing missing was sparks of energy crackling along their skin, set off by a catty remark or by the arch of an eyebrow; they were strung tight, ready to snap as the moved around in cautious steps that made Q feel like he was being circled by a pair of lions.

It was rather uncomfortable - especially for someone as aware as he was of what James and Nomi were capable of, healthily scared enough that he wouldn’t want to be caught in a battle of wills and limbs between the two of them. Q kept calm, however: they were in the depths of MI6 and he was their Quartermaster - no matter how thirsty they were to taste one another’s sweat and blood, they would listen to him.

They were trained to associate his voice with reason; with safety; with light.

Not even M was as safe as he was from the wrath of a Double-Oh.

“007 meet 007”

“We’ve already had the pleasure”

“ Questionable pleasure ”

Q arched an eyebrow at the heat in Nomi’s voice; he was used to her smarmy attitude and words permeated with sarcasm, not with anger - though, he supposed that if anyone would ever be able to get on her nerves, that was James fucking Bond: they were too similar for either of them to see anything else but their own flaws in each other, rubbing them in all the wrong ways “Maybe I just wanted to say that out loud, it’s not the kind of thing I predict will happen again in my career”

“He’s not even 007 anymore”

“I am 007 - I made those numbers mine, I shaped them into my legacy you are resting on”

Oh, there it was one of the point of contention “Stop baring your teeth, please. I know you both have been trained to be politer and more charming than that” he might not have been particularly weak when it came to Nomi’s charms because of the mere fact that the seduction of a woman was bound to be wasted on a gay man, but he had guided her out in the field and he knew her smiles could be as lethal as Bond’s.

Q wasn’t going to think about that now, though: he couldn’t afford being distracted by the memory of how a pair of crystal blue irises had made him feel, their cold stare a knife that had been repeatedly twisted into his heart until just the whisper of the man’s name was enough to make him bleed. He loved and he hated the man for it even if he knew that, in the end, it all was his own fault: Q had been the one to fall for empty flirting and charming smiles that rarely reach the eyes and now he was paying the price for it, nursing a broken heart that refused to heal as long as the man insisted on walking back into his life - arrogant and sassy and beautiful.

“I can handle this mission alone”

He forced himself to focus back on the conversation, skilfully ignoring the telling way the older man looked at him - whether Q liked it or not, and he really didn’t, James Bond could read him like the well-worn pages of a beloved book, spine cracked by years of devoted readership “I know you can but time is of essence and he knows what we are up against better than either of us” he reasoned, not even attempting to be persuasive - that wasn’t the ace up his sleeve. Forcing them to use their brains and follow his reasoning until they got to the same, most likely and satisfying conclusion? That was his talent and one of the few reasons why he still managed to have a decently sized budget despite the fact that his department arguably was the worst one when it came to the handling of finances - but one couldn’t exactly lesinate on equipment, right? The life of the agents and of those they were sacrificed to protect depended on its quality - the functionaries at Finance just needed to be lead to that conclusion by the hand sometimes and Q had become rather expert at that.

“I can-”

“-No, you can’t” Q raised a finger towards Bond, silencing him before he could claim his ability to handle the mission on his own; again, there was no doubt about that but it was true that, legally and officially speaking, the man wasn’t 007 anymore and therefore didn’t exactly have a licence to kill - M was working to restore it temporarily to avoid sending Bond out with such a handicap but Q didn’t know how far the negotiations had already been taken or if they were stagnating “What the both of you can do is to be professional and make my life easier - understood?”

“Yes, Q”

“Of course, my dear Quartermaster”

The pressure loosened its hold a little, the air actually felt breathable now “Perfect. Let’s go over these mission specs then”  

[mintseesaw]

Felicity

Sequel to Fierce & Delicate (link in masterlist)

Pairing: jungkook x reader

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, husband au

Word count: 11.6k

Warnings: mature content, implications of depression, family conflict

a/n: this is unedited :( but I hope you still enjoy it. Tbh, I wouldn't push through writing a sequel if it weren't for your feedbacks and the notes fierce & delicate has received, so much love to you all! 💕

Also, I'm not sure if reading this would make sense if you haven't read the first one haha. Let me know what you guys think. Comments and likes are much appreciated. They actually motivate me to write more ☺️

“Let’s go back to the villa,” he whispered right next to your ear tickling the sensitive skin behind the shell of your ear. The goosebumps that were there earlier because of the cold breeze and disappeared as his body covered you with his warmth automatically reappeared from your arms again.

“One more minute. I like it when we cuddle like this while watching the sea.”

Today is your last day of holiday in Maldives. And spending it like this, unproductive and with your husband in his arms...is much better than any of the outdoor activities you two have done in the past four days. You couldn’t recall when was the last you’ve had a day this cozy with him, on a holiday or not. And you wish to have more of this when you get back home.

Since you and Jungkook met, dated and got married, no one initiated for the two of you to go on a trip. It wasn’t necessarily needed, and out of respect to your husband’s situation back then, there’s no room for you to insist although you had the means to pay for one. But now, the past four days in this paradise that brought you refreshment, peace and elation to have it together with your husband, you wondered why you have not asked him during the early months of your marriage.

First day on the island was wasted on you sleeping all day, trying to gain your energy back as the flight reasonably tired you out. You were too drained to entertain Jungkook’s excitement to wander off to the beautiful scenery so you send him off and even coaxed him to bring his camera, assuring him you would be fine alone in the room. You were sleeping the whole time and only woke up when he had returned.

The next three days were spent doing all the outdoor activities that Jungkook wanted to try out. You knew your husband always has a thing for anything adventurous.. He enjoyed every bit of it, and even more when he saw you struggling to ride the air jet ski or squirming as he urged you to touch a stingray. Not that you hate animals, you’re just never really an animal person.

As much as you don’t find most the activities fun like he did, seeing your husband having the time of his life is enough reason for you to enjoy the vacation itself. Being with him in a beautiful place like this island is enough for you. It soared your heart that you’ve witnessed him with full of delight clearly present in his eyes. His laughs and smiles were genuine and almost never left his face. Something that surprises you—the intensity of his elation during this trip. It makes you wonder, have you been treating him good enough?

The outdoor activities may or may not be his favorite. You’re almost sure they are. To you, on the other hand, the consecutive nights of consummation that lasted until the wee hours of morning are most especially branded in your mind.

Earlier this morning was no exception. The rounds of steamy activities had caused you to wake up later than usual in the morning. It was almost noon when you too decided to get up.

After taking a semi-breakfast and lunch, you persuaded him to sit with you on the shore. Fortunately for the two of you, the sun was not scorching hot enough to burn yours and Jungkook’s skins although it could if you stay longer especially because you skip applying a protection for your skin. Tipping your head back to peak up above, you noticed clouds have unusually occupied the blue sky like it was about to rain. Maybe, that’s why.

Both of you were sitting in the sand, pairs of feet resting on the wet sand where the sea water consistently dances along the shore due to the waves crashing. Your back pressed comfortably against his chest as his arms lay across your stomach. Your hands clasped in between his fingers, silently communicating on their own.

“We can do so much more than cuddling if we go back to our villa,” he suggested maliciously.

Turning your head and having a view of his grinning face. Eyes narrowing, “We’ve been doing that since we came here, aren’t you sated?” It’s true. Post dinner on your first night here was when the consummation had started. Jungkook didnt stop initiating the move to score every night and every chance he get. As for you, who miss your husband so much, control seemed to escape out of your system every time Jungkook touches you tenderly. Not even when he tried his luck on a sunny day was he ever turned down.

On the third day of your holiday in Maldives, you two went on an island hopping. The supposed activity was not followed as the tourist guide, who was also the one driving the motorboat, made a stop on a specific island—it was left unexplored by the business industry As no commercial hotels or any infrastructure had been built, yet. And you were particularly mesmerized by the natural beauty of it, undeniably more breathtaking than the one where you were staying in. Jungkook asked the guide to dropped you off there and pick you both after a few hours seeing the astonished look on your features.

Your little wander on the island was the only time you genuinely enjoyed swimming in the water as it was the only moment you had outside without the possibility of being watched.

You didn’t notice how far away you’ve swam away from Jungkook that only when he started chasing you was when it finally clicked in your mind. You weren’t supposed to swim away because you didn’t know why he was chasing you in the first place, but you still did, as a reflex. He didn’t even try, because he already caught you despite your efforts to swim farther away from him. Squirming in his arms as squeals and giggles were uncontrollably coming out of your mouth, from taking you by surprise. His hold tightening around your waist, closing the distance between your bodies, his wet torso pressed flatly on your back.

You were still trying to catch your next breath from the activity when you felt his lips on your shoulder travelling further on your neck. The water reaching up from your torso didn’t prepare you for his next move as his hand disappeared through your bikini bottom, boldly palming your private part. Your supposed warning as an attempt to stop him turned into a helpless plea.

His tender caresses to the sensitive nub was so maddening that you didn’t how you got out of the water and laid flat on the sand. The roughness of the sand against your back didn’t seem to bother you one bit. You were too consumed with the fact that he was hovering you, sucking the sensitive spot on your neck, and buried deep inside you.

Jungkook didn’t even bother taking off the material that covers your lower part. He only pushed the material aside for his entrance and gave you no time to adjust to his size, pounding relentlessly as your whimpers and moans of pleasure were drowned by the sounds of the sea. He didn’t stop. Not even when you cried out by the delicious stretch of his rough intrusion, not even when you were having a hard time catching your next breath as he particularly stroke deeper, not even when your insides tightened around him as your peak was approaching you so intensely, shuddering from bliss on his arms. It was only when he growled out his release when he finally had a respite.

Although the neighbor island was not occupied by other tourists during that steamy moment, you shouldn’t have let it happened as someone may still have witnessed it. The thought of someone actually seeing you with Jungkook while doing it actually scares you.

“I can’t control it if you’re in my arms like this wearing that sexy summer dress,” he nuzzled your hair, “Fuck, and you smelled so good. How could you even do that.” Feeling his grip tightening around your waist, not too tight to suffocate you but enough to show you who you belonged to.

“You’re just insatiable, don’t even try to point the blame on me.” Your expectation over hearing another argument coming was cut short by the sound of his chuckle vibrating through his chest, feeling it resonate against your back. The sound of waves crashing through the shore almost drowned it, if not for your close proximity.

The calming sound of waves soothed the air between you and Jungkook. And you wish right there and then that you and Jungkook would always be in this state—hearts filled with only love and pure euphoria. Because right now, you will trade for anything just so you two can stay in this paradise forever. A dream far from reality.

“Jungkook,”

“Hmm?”

The salty air that meets your skin creates a soft motion to the hem of your summer dress against your thighs.Your attention suddenly directed at the material of your dress, finding a temporary entertainment, “Can we do this again in the future?”

“Going on a holiday? Of course, if that’s what makes my wife happy…”

Tilting your head through your shoulders, you pressed softly, “And we’ll utilize our shared resources, right?”

He exhaled, then spoke close to your ear, “Whatever you want, my love…” he shifted his head so his lips can touch your temple while his fingers toy your much smaller fingers in comparison to his.

“Thank you,” you murmured tenderly, eyes closing as you pucker your lips to ask for a kiss, which he granted delightfully.

Once he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours. His eyes twinkling, “Anything else that my wife wants?”

You gave him a soft smile.

“I love you.”

As soon as you utter the words, his burning stare grew intensely. You drew back, shifting your head away from his intense gaze suddenly feeling shy from confessing your feelings like it’s the first time. In contrast to his dark eyes, his mouth twitched into a grin that his set of pearly white teeth came out in full view. Cupping your cheeks in his palms, pulling you into a sweet and passionate kiss not shying away from the tourists who are scattered around the shore.

Jungkook planted a soft kiss on your forehead, alluring you to his request. “Look at your skin, it’s turning red. Let’s go back inside.” You nodded in response, suddenly feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over you.

You didn’t know what time it was when you opened your eyes, startled from your nap. Your eyes scanned through your surroundings as your vision becomes clearer, picking up the pieces of your last memory.

It was then that you sensed your whole body is covered with discomfort. Your head stinging from headache. Your eyes puffy and tender from all the crying you did all throughout the day. Your body felt heavy—that you felt restraint and couldn’t move like the usual. Adding up to that is this weird sensation swirling in your stomach, like something in it wants to come out.

You have guessed right because in a matter of seconds, a bile quickly rising from your throat as the pressure in your stomach intensifies. Although you haven’t yet make sense what’s happening, your body has already reacted on its own, dragging yourself up with small but determined steps towards the toilet despite feeling no energy left from you. As you feel the urge surfaces from your throat, your eyes brimmed with moisture when nothing seems to be coming out of your mouth. You stayed in that position, head hovering over the toilet bowl for a few seconds.

Only when your stomach has calmed down and the urge to vomit has subsided, was when you decided to sit flatly on the bathroom floor. A sudden wave of spell adding up to the physical ache that’s present in your head. Your throat burning from all the involuntary force that urged the contents of your stomach out of your system.

Why do you feel so physically horrible? It wasn’t because of what happened earlier, right? You contemplated, trying to come up for the cause of this little episode. If it were the food you had eaten—you actually barely ate anything today. Maybe it was because of that? Or it might be simply because you’re literally sick as you felt just exactly like it.

And then like you recalled, it wasn’t the first you had an urge to throw up. It was more than once, if you were not mistaken. As quick as you remembered the times that you did, recognition suddenly flickering in your mind. Is it what you think it is?

Taking birth controls doesn’t completely stop the probability of conceiving. But the chances of getting pregnant is very slim. How— you stopped dead on your tracks. Your eyes widened at the sudden realization.

It’s possible. Because you stopped taking them five months ago.

The next day you went to work earlier, Jungkook being kept in the dark of your presumption. He didn’t approve of your sudden decision, although he didn’t say it out loud. It was evident from his expression. He was subtle, asking why you’re going to work an hour than usual. He took it as a sign of your anger at him. He didn’t want to go against your way as not to make you angrier. For you, on the other hand, it isn’t the reason. You planned to buy a pregnancy test in a pharmacy and take it at work.

You bought three and made sure no one was in the restroom when you took all the kits. It was a good thing no one was there because when all of them showed the same result, you didn’t have the strength left in you to control the sounds of emotions that spilled past your throat.

With all that’s happened in the past week, the restless nights you’ve had over your husband’s suspicious actions made you even more vulnerable now that another circumstance is right in front of you. Crying numerous times since the past few days have reflected your inner turmoil. But it isn’t the same this time. You’re happy.

The tests could be giving you a false hope, but you can sense it, feel it even more that you’ve proven your assumption. And now, the thought of having a little creature inside your womb brings you a different kind of joy. The little bud is the product of Jungkook’s love to you and yours to him.

And right there and then, you made a decision. For your baby’s sake, you will forget all this and forgive your husband, who’s only doing everything for your own good.

It was never his fault you were broken in the first place. No, he completed you. He had picked up the shards of glasses of your broken youth, dreams and passion in life and brought it together with his love. If not for him, you’re not even sure if you’ll ever be happy in your life.

If there’s someone you should blame for the emotional damages inflicted in your past, it’s your parents. Perhaps, you shouldn’t, but trying to rationalize your situation, it’s anyone but him. He made a mistake. In spite of the pain that cost him to commit a mistake and inflict it to you in return, now that you’ve come to know that you’re possibly carrying his baby, you want to do this right. Facing them again could probably help you move on.

Once and for all, to see your parents again light up a little hope that it would help you move on. That maybe, this time, they would understand the path you’ve chosen for your life. Perhaps, seeing you far from a miserable life they had predicted you to have when you chose to marry Jungkook despite their objection would change their mind about him. You made up your mind, you will meet them.

“Where have you been?”

It was already dark when you got home. Although it was not that late, you quickly picked up Jungkook’s sentiment. His tone was not accusing, but out of a helpless wonder. He must have known. You didn’t exactly tell him you left work even before noon came. But by the tone of his voice and his stance gave away his restless state, thinking of the possibilities where you might have gone of to.

You didn’t answer. Not because you have no plan to, but because you couldn’t wait to tell him about the news you’ve found out and your decision to see your parents instead of giving the reply he wants to hear. However, this time is not the right time to do it. Not when all this hasn’t been settled.

“You were not at work,” he said. “I was calling you and when you were not answering my calls, I went home because I thought you’d be here.” Lowering his head, “I was so worried that I tried to look out for you. Please don’t do that again, no matter how mad you are. Just… tell me where you are. I’ll let you be, I wont bother you. Just please, tell me where you are.”

“I’m sorry,” you sincerely mumbled under your breath. It took all of your willpower not to draw yourself closer and console him so you could take away his anguish, his worries of the uncertainty.

“I-I...t-thought... I thought you left me.” He choked, as fear crossed his face. It made you feel even weaker.

“I wouldn’t do that.” You tried to assure him. “I made a mistake.” Sadness clouded his features, almost afraid to return your calculating gaze at him.

“I know, but it didn’t change my feelings towards you. We’ve been through worse and I’m still here, because I want to be with you.” Your toned wasn’t so comforting and soft like it used to. But it was only your coping mechanism not to cry in front of him. Somehow, you didn’t want him to show your vulnerability.

He took what he could get from you. Even by means of getting a taste of your cold facade, not letting him read your mind through your eyes. At least you were still talking to him. He expected so much worse than this.

Days passed and the household remained unusually quiet. Your cold treatment towards Jungkook scares him, that any time, you would grow tired of this setting.

He wouldn’t let it happen. You’re not going to slip away from him. Although he was patiently waiting for you to come around, he couldn’t help the ache surfacing from his chest as his presence remains invisible to you. He was unable to have a normal conversation with you, he couldn’t kiss you when he wants to express his affection like how he frequently does. His heart constricted every time you avoided his eyes, and every time you take the chance to avoid his presence. Yet, he’s in relief that you don’t try to get away from him every night. At dinner. It was the only time he’s able to see to be with longer even though your at arms length.

It was also during a dinner with him that you chose to tell him about your plan. He was trying to initiate a conversation, like what he’s been doing for the past few days. But your pregnancy was consuming all your energy that you just want to sleep after work or even at post meals. You missed your husband so much. You rarely get to see him every day as you tried to put your distance from him. Most of the time, you feel so sick, especially every morning and you didnt want to give him a clue of your state as you planned to reveal it to him when you come back. Perhaps, to surprise him.

When he stopped talking, you looked up from your food, barely touched. You realized he didn’t stop, he was waiting for your reply.

“It’s fine. Thank you for the dinner. I’m not that hungry, I’m sorry.”

“That’s alright. I was thinking you probably don’t like it. I can prepare something else, next time. Or we can have your favorites— ramen and rice cake for tomorrow? I recall you haven't had them lately.” A smile plastered on his face. You’re not sure if it was sincere because you know he’s hurt just as much as you are.

You gulped down the lump that was forming in your throat. Nodding your head, not trusting your own voice to speak without giving him a hint of your emotions.

You cleared your throat, “Listen,” Jungkook immediately fixed his eyes on you when he heard the raspiness of your voice and for the past few days, it felt like it is the first time you actually let him have an eye contact with him.

“I filed for a leave—“

His smile was immediately replaced by panic, it was evident through his features.

“Why? Where are you going? Are you— a-are y-you leaving?”

“I’ll be gone for a few days.” You confirmed, pursing your lips.

“It’s because of what I did.” He stated more to himself than to you. A sad smile forming on his face.

A sigh went past your lips. Your eyes looking everywhere but on him. He took your silence as a confirmation.

“You’re coming back, right?” He asked, needing an assurance to let his mind at peace. You’re not leaving him, permanently.

“Yes. I’m not leaving you, Jungkook, please remember that.”

“Why are you leaving?” Your heart constricted at the sight of his shattered look. You almost pleaded him to stop asking, because his thoughts—they are not true. Leaving him is something you will never do under any circumstances.

“I need to do this.”

“If—if you hate my presence, I should be the one leaving—“

“No! It’s not because of that…”

Then why are you leaving? He repeated in his mind. But he remained silent, too broken to form a reply. And you took it as an opportunity yo continue, “I’m going to see my parents.”

This time, he stood up drawing his body close to where you sit, following his movement until you were craning your neck just so you can clearly see his face.

“You don’t have to see them...You don’t have to leave. If it means seeing them, I’ll give you the space, I’ll leave the apartment.”

“Jungkook, it’s my own decision. You are not leaving because I don’t need space.”

“Then I’ll come with you.” He attempted, despite knowing he cannot influence your decision anymore but hoping, at least, you would allow him to.

Although he does not intimidate you, there’s something about his height that take away your pretense of a strength. He certainly does not scare you. It must be his powerful aura, that despite letting you be in-charge most of the time, there’s no lying he has the upper hand to this marriage. That he could sway you through submission if he ever tries to. This time was no exception, only that you’re struggling so hard not to give in. So you stood up, despite having no match with his built to prove that you can stick to your own decision.

“I don’t want them to hurt you-“

He frowns before cutting you off, “They’re not violent, YN.”

“They did it before, you were emotionally harmed because of them. What makes you think they wont do it again? Let me see them alone,” You were not meant to burst out, and you regretted it the moment you witness under your peer when he took a small step back. You sighed, realizing that you shouldn’t let this go anywhere near a fight, “Please…”

“Why do you want to see them? Is it because of what I did?”

“Yes, but it’s not what you think. I’ll try to reconcile with them for…” you stopped mid-sentence, blinking.

The frown present on his face falling deeper into a confusion when you fail to finish your statement. Is there something else he doesn’t know? “For what?”

Your eyes snapped shut for a second, before answering, “Give me a few days to fix this. I’ll be okay, and I’m coming back home.”

“You don’t have to go.” Jungkook mumbled, in an attempt to change your mind despite reading your eyes. You’re determined and there’s nothing he could do for now to bend your decision especially when he’s trying to make it up to you.

Your close proximity with Jungkook allowed you to reach for his muscled arm. His eyes grew wide at your sudden contact with him. “It’s not your fault.”

“Do you really need to leave?” Voice wavering from the pain filling in his heart with the thought of not having your presence for days.

His body reacted on its own before it even registered in his mind, closing the distance in between the two of you. He was expecting the worse when he came to realize what he did, that you will drew back from his touch. His heart quicken its beat as you stayed in his arms, finding temporary comfort through your submission.

He lowered his head, nuzzling your hair through his nose. He missed your scent. “I’ll be here when you come back.”

You were gone even before Jungkook wakes up. It’s clear that he didn’t want to let you go. And letting him see you leave the apartment under his watch would be too hard for you and for him. So you decided to leave even before he wakes up.

Hours later after the train that you’ve boarded on left Seoul, you arrived to the city where you’ve spent most of you life with. The first thing from you mental itinerary is to meet your parents.

You already called your mother, beforehand. When you opened up about your desire to see them, she initially offered their home. However, you didnt give her an answer. Because knowing her, she’ll only persuade you to stay longer than you intend to especially since she is aware Jungkook is not going with you. Good thing though, she was coaxed to decide for the place of the meet up. She sounded so delighted over the phone, having in mind that your initiation to talk to them could possibly mean a reconciliation with them.

And of course, your mother will choose a luxurious place. Not that you were surprise though.

When you got inside the restaurant, a staff escorted you to the receptionist, where you gave her the reservation’s name which is your mother’s. The staff maneuvered you to table while formally mentioning that she is already on the table waiting only a minute before you actually got here. You didn't know where the male staff is taking you as you let him lead the way. But the moment you spot a familiar figure, her back facing your direction sitting on a table placed on the far end corner of the VIP area, you already knew where you’re going. From your direction, you could clearly make out her hair curled in perfect waves. And just by the mere sight of her figure, one could mistaken her as a lady in her early thirties.

You were right. Because when she casually turned and fixated her eyes on you, it proved your affirmation seeing how she barely aged after two years without a proper contact with her. Not only that she look youthful compared to her actual age, she could be likened to you as her sister more than a parent.

“My darling!” She exclaimed, gathering me close to her so she could plant kisses on both of your cheeks. Her face in heavy make-up, yet it it only accentuated her features, making her more astonishing in sight. As your eyes unconsciously skimmed her body, you noticed her fashion style didn’t change a single bit. She never wears anything except dresses from high-end brands. A pair of diamonds decorated on her ears, golds on her wrist and ring finger and what seems to be a million dollar worth necklace clinging to her neck. She’s, no doubt, a wife of a tycoon—regal, beautiful and expensive. Perhaps, it’s from her where you inherited your fine features.

“Mother.” You greeted her curtly as you two took your seats. A smile plastered on her face as she instructed something to the waiter while taking a glimpse of the menu. You guessed she was already ordering for the two of you.

Nothing much has changed.

When she seems to be done ordering almost half of the menu with the amount of time she consumed, she waved off her hand to the waiter signalling him to leave you two alone.

“It’s been long, my dear.” Similar to what you just did, you saw her eyes traveled up and down your visible length.

“I know.”

“How are you my dear? I haven’t seen you since you got married...” Her smile slightly fading as she intentionally left her statement incomplete. You’re sure it meant something the way she let it linger. However, it’s too soon speak out your thoughts especially if they intend to contradict hers, you want to make this work in your favor.

Clearing your throat, you straightened your back as you showed concern to your father’s absence. “Where’s dad?”

“My apologies, your father can’t make it. He’s abroad for business.You didn’t answer me, dear.”

Nodding your head since you are aware he’s never not busy so it doesn’t even surprise you.

“I’m doing fine, and I’m happy if that’s what you’re worrying about. I have an amazing husband who sees to my well being.”

“My child, I thought you’d want to ask for forgiveness for defying us. Otherwise, I don’t see the point of this meet up.”

You froze, what did you just hear? Your hand on your lap suddenly clenching into a fist out of her sight.

Shock crossed to your face. You couldn’t believe what you’re hearing from your mother. You had a tiny hope in you that they would change. And now, you don’t know anymore. Perhaps, Jungkook is right. You shouldn’t have made a move to do this in the first place.

“Mom…you’re not serious.” It took so much of your will power to keep a straight face when all your anger towards your parents is slowly resurfacing.

“I see, you’re not financially struggling. I’m sure it’s you who helped him find a decent job, anyway.”

“What are you talking about, mother? Jungkook was accepted because he deserves to get the job—”

Her eyebrows lifted, shrugging as if she didn’t buy what I said. You watched her more intently and then something clicks. They knew how you’re doing all along?

“You had us followed, haven’t you? Perhaps, investigated if you’re more desperate.” A bitter smile forming in your mouth. You’re not prepared for anything like this.

And your cruel mother didn’t even try to deny it.

“We want to know if he can take care of you. That kid even had part time jobs? His present job isn’t enough, is it?”

“That’s enough, mom. Don’t mock my husband. Stop your men from following us. If you want to know how I’m doing, I’ll gladly provide the details, myself.”

She shrugged her shoulders, lips pursed and warily observing you through her perfectly groomed eyelashes.

You were about to speak again when the waiter appeared, serving wine and then the main courses.

You took the opportunity to continue when the waiter left.

“I would’ve married your best candidate if I love him, you know.”

“Love is not everything, dear, you're living in a fantasy.”

“Would you have accepted Jungkook as my husband if he’s rich like Namjoon?” She didn’t answer, and took a sip from her glass instead, “Actually, it doesn’t matter anymore because you’d still force me to marry a stranger, right?”

“Namjoon is a good man—“

“Im not referring to his personality, mother. The fact that you want me to marry off with someone without my consent, I couldn’t grasp the thought of my own parents letting me live in an emotionless, miserable life.”

“Your father and I were a product of arranged marriage—“

“Don’t I know that? You fed me with that fact all my life.” You refrain from moving, as you watch her direct her narrowed her eyes on you.

“Careful YN, I don’t like your tone.”

“What? You want me to apologize? I wouldn’t. And certainly, I wouldn’t apologize for choosing Jungkook over my parents.”

“How dare you!“ She stood up from her seat, eyes widening in complete fury.

“You really didn’t know? Not even have a clue how the consequences of ruling my life did to me? You still believe you’re the perfect parents for raising me the way you did?”

“I’m telling you to stop, YN. Don’t make a scene here.” She gritted, warily scanning the room with fear of others possibly hearing your words. Mortifying.

“I had hoped that the past years have made you change your ways of how you see me. How treating me as a daughter would change to letting me live and respecting my decisions. But now that I’ve spoken to you, I realized I made the right decision of not allowing my husband to come with me.”

“This is how you repay us after all what we’ve done for you?! You still chose that kid?! That kid who used to work at cheap clubs and grew up in a rubbish community? For all we know he only married you for money. Getting involved with someone like him is unacceptable to this family. You’re a disgrace.” She hissed, her sharp eyes turning darker as if she wanted to hurt me from her mere eyes.

“You can call me whatever you want, mother. But you have no right!” Your voice suddenly raising from your calmed tone that your mother’s eyes grew wide in utter surprise because you’ve never raised your voice to your parents, “no right to insult my husband.”

“YN!” She exclaimed in disbelief.

“I respected you and dad so much despite everything what you did to me. If you can’t accept him as my husband then just respect him as a person. He doesn’t deserve any of your judgment and disgusting treatment. Do you know why I asked to see you? Because I want to forgive you and tell you how happy I am living with the life I wanted.”

“We wanted the best for you and you never deserve to be with someone like him.” Cautiously taking a sit. Your mother may be right, you were not taught to disrespect anyone especially your parents. Defending your husband doesn’t count as disrespecting them when all they’ve done is treat him less than how I human should be treated. Especially if Jungkook is here, he would never try to defend himself against your parents.

“The best for me? I used to see a psychiatrist, mother, all because I was mentally unstable. Is that what you want for me? To seek for medical help because my parents did the right thing? Or...tell me, is it my fault that I became emotionally horrible living with my dear parents? Is it my fault I became desperate to follow my own dreams without you trying to manipulate my life? You should’ve been the first person to feel how your own daughter feels. How treating me as a pawn more than your own child could ruin me. Jungkook is the one who saved me from you.”

For the first time in your life, you saw her slowly cowering back. Were your eyes deceiving you? They must be. Because your mother always has her chin up whatever the circumstances are. She remained silent. And you wish you can read her mind so you know if her softening features are genuine or only for a show.

“We didn’t know that you’ve been through that because you didn’t tell us.” Her hand clutching her hand bag so tightly didn’t go unnoticed to you.

“You never listen to me, how could I tell you? I always try but you listen to everyone. But me.” Is that guilt you’re seeing on her face? You must be imagining things. It would never happen. You continued to speak as she didn’t dare respond yet again.

“You didn’t deserve my forgiveness, but I’m giving you that so I can move on. For my peace, and for my baby’s sake.”

You need to leave now because this is already going near what you’ve purposely anticipated for. Quickly standing up from the chair. And before you turn your back to her, you caught a glimpse of her expression for the last time. Shock.

“What do you mean? YN? Are you pregnant?”

You didn’t answer her, you didn’t turn back to her despite hearing her frantic calls of your name as you walked straight out of the restaurant.

You called for a cab right after you exited from the establishment even though you’re not sure where you’re going. You told the driver to drive around as you let your emotions calm down. Unconsciously drying off your face from the tears that spilled from your eyes as you dialed Jungkook even before your mind has registered what you just did.

You slightly panicked and you’re ready to end the dialing when you heard his voice.

“YN? Hey...how’s the journey? Are you okay?”

You quietly swallowed the lump in your throat, trying to dissipate the raspiness of your voice. You shouldn’t have called him while you’re emotionally vulnerable. He could easily sense it

“Hi… don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

“YN? Are you crying? Are you sure you’re okay? You met your parents, didn’t you?” You heard a shuffling in the background, and now you’re wonder what he’s doing before he answered the call. It’s still within work hours.

“I did.” Referring the talk you just with your mother. He quickly picked up what you mean.

“It went bad?”

Silence.

Then you sighed before speaking up, “I did the right thing,” defending you from her, you silently thought.

“Please stop crying, I wish I insisted to go there with you.”

Although you couldn’t see him, his face flashed before your eyes. The tone of his voice giving away his sulky expression.

“No, I’m fine.” It’s true, even though you’re emotional. The talk went horrible in contradiction to what you actually expected. But it felt good to finally let, at least, your mother know what you’ve been through without inhibitions. She could just shrugged it off, for all you care. It doesn’t matter anymore.

The conflict may have not been resolved and you’re nowhere near giving them the forgiveness, but it made you accept where your priorities in life lie now. And for one, it’s moving forward with Jungkook and your baby.

“When will you come home?”

“In a few days.”

“Please, hurry. I miss you so much.”

As you watched the changing view from the window, you whispered softly, “Okay. I miss you too, Jungkook. I have to go.”

After the ride, you were dropped off to the busy streets of the city where you instructed the driver to. You use your idle time to wander off the familiar places you used to go to. You also didn’t forget to visit the libraries and read some random books to help ease your mind from so much worries. It did. Spending days alone allowed you to think clearly although you’ve gone bored most of the time. Somehow, it became a form of refreshment and a little soul-searching going in the nostalgic place despite growing up here. This place had only witnessed your complicated past that tinted your soul and didn’t cause any of it.

Three days later, you went back home. Jungkook was asleep on the couch when you got inside, the TV is on like he fell asleep while watching some show. He was still wearing his dress shirt, tie nowhere around his neck. Did he eat already?

You missed him so much. It was only three days without seeing him. But being away from him made you realized how much his presence means to you even though you two had been talking while you were away.

Brushing his bangs away from his eyes, your face neared close to his, giving him a small peck on his cheek. The gentle movement made him startle a bit and making you jumped back in return for waking him up too soon.

His eyes fluttered open. His eyes growing the size of a saucer when it was you he laid eyes on, not expecting to see you although he was waiting for you with full of hope you will be here tonight. So it brought him too much raw happiness that you finally came home to him.

“I missed you,” you purred against his lips as he continued to plant small kisses on your lips, showing you how much he feels the same way.

“Jungkook,” calling him so sweetly. How he longed to hear your voice in flesh. Talking to you through the phone is nothing compared to hearing your voice here in front of him. It does nothing but made him miss you more and intensifies his desire to touch you, kiss you, and make love to you.

He hummed in reply, daze enough to make out a word.

“Can we use your vacation leave now?”

That’s how you two ended up here. That night, you have packed your things. Jungkook did the same. The next day, you arranged your flight which was set on the same day at night.

Nothing productive happened after going back in your villa aside from cozily resting on the sofa, a random television show playing in the background which you don’t even pay attention with. Your attention divided into his head resting on your lap and his animated recollection of what has happened in the past four days in this beautiful paradise. He really had a great time during this vacation. Is this his first time going on a trip out of the country? When you were still dating him, you learned that he rarely allows himself for recreational activities aside from hanging out with his friends. And it pains you to even think he never let himself had a great time for himself because he was too busy taking care of his family.

You didn’t dare ask about it because you didn’t want to spoil his happiness. Seeing him in a state of pure elation warms your heart.

Later that night, you took a shower as Jungkook prepared a private dinner outside. An hour and a half later, a light make up adorned your face, hair left untouched after it was blow-dried letting your locks fall in natural waves. Halfway through putting on a lipstick, you saw Jungkook appeared on the bathroom’s doorway through the mirror. He was wearing a striped short sleeve button down top, a pair of tailored shorts and a pair of white sneakers. His outfit made him look youthful more than a married man. So attractive and beautiful. Lucky for you, no one will see your husband in this attire or else you don’t know if you will enjoy the dinner knowing that women will feast their eyes on your husband.

His shoulder leaning on the door frame, as his eyes feed with the view. When he looked back up from scanning your body, he was met with your gaze.

“Your back is showing.” He commented as if the fact is not noticeable.

An eyebrow was lifted and he saw it through your reflection in the mirror, waiting for another statement to make his implication much clearer.

“It’s windy outside…” he trailed, sizing up the look on your face which silently tells him to go on.

“I know that.” You simply replied.

You heard him sighed as you make your final touches, dusting a highlighter on your cheeks before turning to face him.

“You don’t like my dress?”

“You look beautiful as always.” Dipping his head so he could nuzzle your hair. He was avoiding your stare.

“But my dress...” Tilting your head to the side, searching for his expressive pair of eyes.

“It looks good on you, baby, so much, men will surely ogle on the mere sight.” He admitted almost too painfully. You drew back from his arms.

“I’m not changing.” You declared with finality.

“I know Jagi, and you’ll be the death of me.”

You tiptoed with your gladiators on to give him a chaste kiss. He was quick to catch your waist, turning the kiss into a little make-out session.

It was you who pulled away. Or else you’re not going anywhere near the door of the room.

Jungkook requested for a private dinner from the hotel. You planned to give your anniversary gift to him around this time, so you asked the waiter who will be serving you two tonight to keep it so Jungkook wouldn’t have a clue about it, hence the purpose of surprising him.

Walking hand in hand, letting him tug you softly wherever he’s taking you. As you walk, you pass by the perfectly aligned cottages. You noticed there weren’t that much of tourists outside. Perhaps, the lack of live activities in the island during the night forced most of them to just stay in their villas.

Although you were slightly shivering from the cold breeze, it was not enough to slow you down from your pace. The journey took longer than expected. You thought the table you’re occupying for the dinner would be close to your villa. Jungkook muttered something which you failed to hear clearly as the sounds of crashing waves were far louder than his voice. When someone who was wearing a familiar uniform of the hotel employees approached the two of you, you guessed that the lone cottage not far from where you both stood is the one you’re going to occupy.

The male staff greeted the two of you and noticed he has a good American English accent. You politely smiled then followed him suit as he maneuvered you and Jungkook to the cottage. Even from afar and the dim light that the post lamp near it have provided, you could make out the differences of it from the ones you’ve seen earlier. It was specially decorated.

You guessed right. Because when you went closer to it, you couldn’t help yourself but admire the beautiful setup. You thought Jungkook would only take you on a simple dinner, although he mentioned it being a little private. You tug his hand in an attempt to get his attention as he was giving instructions to another staff. It was the one you asked to keep your gift so Jungkook wouldn’t have an idea about it as he has no idea you prepared a present for him.

He grins when he saw the look on your face, evidently showing how surprised you are.

“Do you like it?”

“You didn’t mention it’s a candlelit dinner.”

“That’s the whole point of a surprise.” The smile plastered on his face tells you there‘s something else you’re not aware of.

“What else did you prepare for this dinner that I don' know about?” Peering curiously at him. Jungkook didn’t have the chance to reply as the waiter coaxed you towards the table.

“Mr. Jeon, Mrs. Jeon, please do take your seats.” Jungkook nodded to the waiter and gently drag you to the flower decorated cottage. As you neared the table, your eyes caught the red petals beautifully scattered on the center of the table around the lavender scented candle.

Jungkook pulled the intricately designed metal chair for you. It was then that you noticed a single rose lying on the round, empty plate. You took it and drew it close to your nose so you can smell it properly.

“Thank you,” softly whispered. When you had taken a sit, Jungkook made a half turn to occupy the chair across mine.

The waiter then started serving the courses. Your eyes quickly traveled to his when you realized they were serving an Italian menu. It’s your favorite. Before you even had the chance to speak your thoughts, a soft, romantic melody suddenly plays. Your head going sideways trying to locate where the sound is coming from. The faint sound of the crashing waves drowning from the music that lingers sweetly in your ears. He didn’t leave your gaze. He grins seeing that you’re struggling to form a statement as your mouth was left ajar. You didn’t expect that he would do it anything special.

Still in daze of his effort to pull a special dinner, you whispered softly, “You did all of this…” It wasn’t a question, because he really did.

“Happy anniversary, Jagi.” He purred softly. Even with the dim light, you can see his eyes twinkling from adoration. “We’ve been celebrating our anniversaries for years and we’ve never done this before. I want to make this one memorable for you.”

“You didn’t have to...but—thank you. I-I...I don’t know what to say, I’m not expecting anything like this because being with you is enough for me.”

His hand reached out to yours, kissing your knuckles and the wedding band worn on your ring finger.

“Anything for you.” Your heartfelt interaction was cut short when the waiter came back with the wine, pouring to each of the wine glass. Muttering a ‘thanks’ when he finishes, leaving the two of you alone, again.

The two of you started eating. You mentally reminded yourself not to eat too much so you wouldn’t feel sick after the meal, especially now that you’re aware it’s a full course meal.

The primo was already served, and although the palletto is mouth watering, you didn’t finish half of it in discretion. Jungkook didn’t seem to notice it, because you already asked the waiter for the second course.

“How is it?”

“It’s good, and it tastes just like the ones I’ve had in italian restaurants.” You were referring to the Filletto al pepe.

“The chef must be good to be able to cook authentic Italian cuisines.”

He smile shyly. “Actually, he’s an Italian.”

“Oh. So, that’s why.”

Like the first one, you ate half of the portion of the second course. You’re on the fourth one when he noticed your wine was left untouched.

He lifted his eyebrow in question, “You don’t like the merlot? I thought that’s your favorite kind?”

“It is. I just felt like not having an alcohol tonight.”

“What do you want then? I’ll ask the waiter for something else.”

“Just...water, please.” He stared at you for a few seconds, before asking you again, unconvinced.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

During this time, you two were able to talk about a lot of things. And sometimes, he just stares at you lovingly while listening to you talk endlessly. It was several minutes after finishing the courses when he stood up and laid out his hand in front of you. He didn’t even speak but you knew what he was asking for. He wants to take you on a slow dance. The intensity of his gaze almost melts your heart as you took his hand and then he gathered you in his arms. Hands clasped over his nape, his around your waist. His hold on you allowed him to sway not only his body but yours as well to the soft melody.

Not long after, you slightly pushed him away. It’s time to give him your present. His eyebrows forming a line from your sudden withdrawal.

“I have something for you.”

“You do? You didn’t bring anything when we went out though...”

Instead of replying, you turned around to seek for the waiter, when you spotted him, your hand made a gesture to easily give off a signal for him to take out the box you’ve asked for him to keep.

When you turned back around to face Jungkook, his face was scrunched up in full confusion.

“What was that? What did you tell him?”

“The present. He kept it so you wouldn’t know.”

His eyes were wider than usual, still comprehending what you just did. In no time, the waiter came back with the box decorated with a ribbon on top.

You thanked him as he passed it to you.

You pushed the box forward towards Jungkook and whispered softly, “Happy anniversary, my love.”

His eyes going back and forth to you and box as he took it. It was the size of a shoe box and he was wondering what stuff could the box contain.

“Open it,” you encourages as he seemed to be thinking critically what you got for him than actually seeing it for himself.

He slowly untie the ribbon and pulled the cover to reveal its content. He fell even more confuse as he only saw strips of colorful papers that filled the box full. He scurried his fingers through it like he was on a hunt, determined to find the real gift. When he couldn’t seemed to find it, he slightly tipped the box, discarding the strips away. On the last few fistful strips, he saw a small, rectangular, white object. His eyebrows formed a straight line, trying to think the relevance of this tiny stick to be considered an object for a present.

It was then he took it in between his fingers and scrutinize it closely that it finally dawned him. His mouth dropped open.

He snapped his head so hard in your direction from utter shock trying to get a confirmation.

“Is it… is this true, YN? You’re pregnant?” You could see his eyes welling up.

You nodded a few times, “Yes.” You replied lowly. But he heard you, and the moment he did, he pulled you in a deep kiss. His hands were travelling everywhere he could touch you, your hair, your face your arms and then he palmed both your cheeks to kiss you again. He was over the moon. He didn’t know how to handle it, and the only way he could express it so sweetly is through his kisses.

Planting a soft peck on your forehead, finally freeing your swollen lips from his. His arms pulling you closer against his body like he was protecting you. Perhaps, from the cold.

“We’re gonna have a baby,” He dazed, dipping his head on your head to plant multiple kisses all over. “Tell me it’s true, that I’m not dreaming.”

“It is, Jungkook. We’re pregnant.”

Once again, he captured your lips. And you’re not aware how long he was kissing you, but by the time that he pulled away, you took in his dark hooded eyes and felt a hard pressure on your stomach. He is hard.

Just like the other days, you didn’t stop him from his advances even if you two were still technically outside. He was squeezing your butt cheek while dominating your mouth. His tongue long entered your mouth to have a taste. You were left panting when he lowered his mouth, aiming for your jaw, your shoulder and then your neck, the spot where he chose to suck the skin. It was maddening and you’re already losing your sanity. You didn’t have any sip of the wine but you felt just as intoxicated as what an alcoholic drink can do to you after having glasses of it. Perhaps, you really are. Only from your husband’s kisses and desirous touches.

As a matter of fact, you’re not aware how and when you ended up in your villa. Your aching desire clouding your mind that you probably lost your mind to keep track of what’s happening. If it weren’t for him dragging you towards the privacy of your rented room with your body going along wherever he leads you, you wouldn’t have been in your right mind to process your way to the villa.

The moment he pulled you inside, and closed the door behind you, it was like his patience suddenly ran out as he pressed you against the wooden surface, covered your cheeks with his palms then crashed your lips in a searing kiss. His grip let him dominate the kiss and you were not complaining about it. In fact, it turns you on even more when he takes the lead, controlling your needs, teasing you, taking you over the edge, and more.

His lips left yours and you let out a sound of whine, disappointed by the lack of attention from his lips. His name was on the tip of your tongue, about to call him when you felt his lips trailed wet kisses through your jaw down to your neck on your sweet spot.

Your hands find their way to his hair, gripping his locks between your fingers as an outlet to let your desire speak for you aside from the sweet mewls that were coming out of you.

“Jungkook,” you whimpered just as he not so gently sucks your sensitive skin that you felt a faint burning sensation. He knew what he was doing for his tongue started tracing his mark. It didn’t help ease your discomfort over the prolonging desire you want him to aid. In fact, it only intensifies your need like a sprinkle of water through a burning flame.

His lips went farther down your naked shoulder, easing off the strap not wanting a single barrier going on his way. His hand travelling from your waist towards your clothed mound. The only layer covering your breasts is the cotton dress you were wearing and he used it as an advantage, baring your other breast for his eyes and mouth to feast. Dipping his head, his tongue flicked your peak, sending a tingling sensation down where you ache the most. Your fingers tightening their hold through his hair.

“Jungkook please,” you were growing more and more irritated. You want him now.

He was quick to tend to you, kissing your lips, hands cupping your face. “What do you want, baby?” Brushing his lips against yours, the corner of his mouth turning up.

“I want you!”

His dark eyes stared at you, fighting back the urge to smirk at your needy state.

“We won’t hurt our baby, right?” connecting his forehead against yours, kissing your nose as if to help ease your panting.

You shook your head, not trusting your voice to speak. You craned your head up to press your lips to his.

And then you suddenly felt his hands found their way on the back of your thighs, pressing his palms against your clothed skin to urge you to jump on his arms. You did and wrapped your legs around his waist and knotted your arms over his nape. No one dared break the contact on your entwined lips as he expertly maneuvered his way through the bedroom. Your elevated position allowed you to dominate his lips, and it gave you the sudden confidence to push your tongue inside his mouth. It didn’t take long for he placed you on the mattress. You cried out of the sudden lost of contact to his lips. Your sexually deprived state draining your energy and left you with a thread-like strength that you failed to pull him closer.

How does he even have so much control in him? There’s no doubting that he doesn’t want you as much as you do to him because you can see it in his eyes. Dark and burning with desire. His lower lip in between his teeth as he unbuttoned his top, his eyes never leaving yours. You could almost make out an amusement playing on his features even though he wears no expression, like he’s enjoying your frustration. You impatiently watch him unbutton his tailored shorts, the constraint of his hard member creating an evident bulge on his front. And now that he’s left almost naked with his boxers on, it became too painful to look at the evidence of his desire without having any contact from him.

He must have decided to end your misery because he started climbing on the bed, crawling his way over you and parting your legs so he could rest his body on your middle. The moment he did, you reached out, cupping his face to crash your lips on his. It was then you felt his hard member, pressing so painfully against your abdomen that you could feel your core aching and leaking from the intensity of your need. Your whimpering sounds being swallowed against Jungkook’s mouth.

“Help me undress you, baby.” You did just as what he told you to. Desperate to feel him, anything to relieve the throb on your center.

“Up,” he instructed hoarsely, arching your back so he can remove your dress over your head.

“Beautiful.” His eyes scanning through your naked torso. Admiration and lust evident on his face as he feasted the view.

“Jungkook,” pulling his arm, “I want you, now.” your demand came out as a helpless plea.

“I know, baby.” he chuckled, although his face was dark with desire.

Pushing your hips up so you can rub your center against his bulge. Your body slightly trembling from the delicious contact.

His hand snuck in between your bodies, aiming for where you want him to touch the most. He pushed your panties aside, discovering how much you want him.

“Fuck,”

A loud moan emitted past your lips when his thumb flicked your clit. Another finger experimentally slid inside you. The simple ministration almost made you lose your mind. And no later than a second, the pressure stopped that you couldn’t help but to let out a cry from so much frustration.

Jungkook pinned your waist flat against the bed, the little distance between your bodies allowed him to pull your underwear down to your legs past your feet. Then his fingers hooked his boxers down until it reached his thighs to free his hard and swollen member, and glistening with arousal. He’s so huge that a sight of him alone made you clench your insides so hard out of too much need.

He rubbed his veiny length up and down before pushing your knees up a bit so he could have a better angle.

Aligning his steel hard length on your entrance, you bit your lip in anticipation. Your eyes met his when you tilted your head up. All this time, his eyes were on you. You were so focused on his hard length that you didn’t notice he was watching you all along. He chose that moment to thrust his hip roughly and you heard him curse under his breath. Your eyes clenched shut, crying out from the forceful intrusion. It should have hurt you for he’s huge and you can only take so much of him. But the evidence of your desire allowed his length to slide in easily, stretching you to the extremes, and relieving the ache of your prolonged desire that pain felt so surprisingly good through your sensitive muscles inside. Tears spilling from your eyes. He was quick to wipe them off. Kissing your lips tenderly and murmuring an apology.

“No. More please,” urging him to move.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, please...Jung— Oh!“ halfway through pleading through his name, he started thrusting in and out of you that a series of delicious moans started pouring from your mouth. The pace was not too fast, but not too painfully slow.

He caught your lips, holding your chin in place. “Is this okay, baby? You’re not hurt?”

“Jungkook, more…” Ignoring his question as you seemed to be so focused on the delicious stroking of his member inside you, wanting more than what he’s offering.

Submitting to your plea, his thrusts quickened. Lifting the back of your thighs a little bit so he could go deeper. The same position allowed him to touch a sensitive spot several times. In and out. Until you could feel the impending snap of the knot tied by a thousand strands of your pleasure.

“Oh, Jungkook!” His name falling out deliriously on your mouth repeatedly like it was the only thing that mattered. The sounds you were emitting seemed to intensify his pleasure of being inside you that it urge him to go even faster, deeper. And the longer he does, the louder you get, screaming only his name and nothing else.

You can feel it, you’re close.

A growl rumbles out of his chest when you squeezes him so tight that he could taste his own orgasm. When he particularly stroke a sensitive spot where a thousand nerves are located which can trigger your orgasm, once, twice… and with the third stroke that you finally felt the twisting of your stomach, waves of pleasure hitting every core of your being. Your mind losing its own consciousness, vision blurring as the world has gone mute for a few seconds. Screaming his name one last time as you arched your back, wrapping your arms over his back tightly, needing his embrace as you ride out your high. He continued hammering his hard length inside you, prolonging your orgasm and chasing his own. Your eyes moistened from the overstimulation, almost painful, yet pleasurable enough to let him jar you over and over until you were writhing beneath him, coaxing his release to hit him sooner. It worked.

You heard him growled your name as you felt him stiffen beneath you, an indication of his approaching peak. The moment it did, he attacked your lips, muffling his own sounds of pleasure. He doesn’t like you hearing his moans because he thinks they are unmanly. But you love them. It gives you an assurance that you can please him like he does to you.

He rested his body on top of yours for a bit, his head nuzzled on your neck, panting from doing all the activity by himself. His hands firmly planted on the bed on both your sides so as not to put all his weight on you. His chest pressed flat on yours, allowing you to feel his heart beating so fast against his rib cage. You let him in this position, wiping the beads of sweats that covered his temple and forehead. You kiss the side of his head, your fingers stroking his hair in a comforting manner. He likes it when you take charge on the aftermath.

Your fingers lightly scratch his scalp, soothingly. Your other hand on his back, feather lightly rubbing his skin that is covered with a little moist of sweat. You tilted your head a little, purring closer to his earlobe.

“I love you.”

He lifted his head, meeting his half opened eyes. The corner of his mouth curled up in reply. He suddenly close the distance, capturing your lips. “I know baby, I love you, too.” He gently murmured against your tender lips. Then he kisses the tip of your nose before rolling over to his back, taking you with him. You ended up on on his side. His arms immediately covered your naked back from the cold. The new position gave you literally no space in between your bodies. His warmth comforting your body. You’re not sure if he’s still awake as your nose is buried on his neck that it didn’t let you see if he is. But you’re too tired and comfortable to move an inch.

“Babe…” you faintly whispered as your fingers traced the skin of his arm, if he’s asleep he probably wouldn’t hear you. He didn’t say anything.

Until he move. His arms tightening around you.

“Jagi, give me a minute or two,”

“What?”

He lifted his head to meet your eyes. “I thought you wanted more.”

You hit his chest playfully, but he caught it even before you do, taking it closer to his mouth to kiss the palm of it.

Not even a few minutes later, he flipped you both so he’s hovering you again. Jungkook pressed his hips against yours and you felt it. He’s turn on, again.

Squeals come out of your mouth as he attacked your neck, biting and sucking the skin playfully as if he’s some kind of a blood sucker creature. You thought you’re not ready to take him again after the intense one you just had. It was like you were not sated enough when he unsolicitedly slid inside you. You’ll always love the feel of him, filling you completely. He made you lose your mind, and didn’t stop after you exploded for the second time of the night.

You let him had you again, this time it was excruciatingly and painfully slow. You could make out a faint light illuminating from the blinds through your heavy eyelids when he finally stopped. His body falling with a thud on the other side of the bed, exhaustingly. That’s the last thing you remembered before sleep consumes over you.

mintseesaw © 2019

[kaoru-tries-to-write]

Warlords hearing MC getting busy and their reactions (in no particular order), Part I of II

Long time no content, apologies! This is my first time writing a headcanon post, please enjoy~

Hideyoshi

-          On his way to deliver his daily report to Lord Oda, mentally running through the items in his head so he won’t forget anything and waste his lord’s precious time

-          Just about to announce his presence, he hears “the sounds”

-          Oh, it is definitely a bad time for a report. It’s just before dinner too, have they eaten already? Are they eating each—never mind! They’re definitely NOT going to be joining the others for dinner, that’s for sure

-          Shakes his head as he turns to head back down the stairs, trying to erase MC’s breathy voice from his mind

-          But he does return just a short while later with a tray filled with an assortment of Masamune’s onigiri and water, placing it by the door to help with their ‘recovery’

Mitsuhide

-          It’s his job to know everything that is happening, both in Azuchi and everywhere else. Today is his rare day off, even he needs a break from the shadow sometimes

-          His ears perk up as his silent steps carry him down the familiar hallway of Masamune’s manor

-          Masamune’s voice is unmistakable, his playful tone has dropped a whole octave though, man, MC does not stand a chance against that man

-          -Smirky smirk smirk. SMIRK-

-          The polite thing would have been to pass by quickly, switch out the water for sake in the kitchen as planned, then leave and pretend nothing was amiss

-          But not him, he stays and listens for a moment longer so he can tease MC later, just imagining her blushing face brought a chuckle to his lips, it’s going to be very entertaining indeed

Mitsunari

-          He couldn’t forget bumping into Lord Tokugawa in the library just the other day, and he was so kind and helped return the books to the shelves for him

-          So he had to do –something- to return the favour!

-          Both arms full of books and scrolls pulled from his room, they covered topics from rare herbs and how to grown them, to advanced drying techniques for preserving medicinal properties for use in the field

-          For once he wasn’t walking with his nose stuck between book pages, and he arrived outside Ieyasu’s room in record time

-          The maids’ strange behaviour should have alerted him to come back another time, but he’s Mitsunari~

-          Hearing grunts and shuffling through the screen door, he paused, trying to place the type of exercise Lord Tokugawa was doing

-          Would he be interrupting his workout? But he was so excited to see him again, surely Ieyasu won’t mind a break with some quality reading material? Oh, and he’s calling MC cute, she must be helping him again!

-          With his usual upbeat voice, he announced himself before sliding the door open with one foot… ((oh, baby, no))

Sasuke

-          Does his ninja ceiling thing as per usual above MC’s room

-          Is that Mitsunari’s voice? The famed strategist of Azuchi? Perfect opportunity for a little listen—

-          Hold up, what was that? Why is he comparing the back of his hand to her body. Oh. Oh no, but, also yes?

-          But MC is his friend, he should yeet himself out of there pronto, yet he stayed crouching above them as the angel’s voice went into detail on the beauty that is her skin, and touching all the placed to make her gasp and ask for more

-          Anything for science? No, he’s overstayed his welcome. Adjusting his glasses and pulling the cloth over his mouth, he’s gone before either of them are the wiser

Kenshin

-          Constantly looking for someone to train with, sun’s out, sword’s out, am I right?

-          Has already beat half the castle onto their butts in a self-declared battle royale, but where is Sasuke? He wasn’t in the training hall, or on the roof, he must be in his room!

-          With renewed energy, he charged for Sasuke’s room, dodging katanas with the grace of a dancer and knocking weapons flying as he went

-          What he wasn’t expecting was the soft moans just audible through the shoji screen

-          Is he not alone? Dammit! Of all times to be busy, he chose now?!

-          He won’t disturb them, but Sasuke best be prepared to train doubly hard as soon as he’s done

Shingen

-          He missed his friend, and he firmly believed the man he’s known still lives beyond the scar

-          For old time’s sake, he set out to pay Kennyo a visit at his temporary residence, bringing a few carafes of sake with him

-          The late afternoon sun lit the pebbled path up to the humble building, fresh incense and candles burned both inside and out, giving its surroundings a serene quality

-          He has a good understanding of the layout of temples, and he rounded to the back, where the private quarters are held

-          Everything was quiet, until it wasn’t

-          The moment he realized what was happening, is this what they call mixed feelings?

-          Kennyo’s room is always the one at the end of the hallway, and he could see the door shift slightly with every movement, no doubt they were –right- behind it

-          Each whimper and moan that’s being held back was most definitely still heard

-          Having the most devious smirk on his face, Shingen turned around and left while chuckling, “a little sin never hurt anybody”

Yukimura

-          Mumbling the whole way back from the market with a fresh batch of sweet buns, he made sure to leave half in the kitchen before taking the rest to Shingen

-          Stomping towards his Lord’s room, his thoughts almost as loud as his steps, he failed to realize Shingen was a little preoccupied

-          Wait, did he hear something? Or was that just his imagination? Shrugging his shoulders, he called out for Shingen and one hand moved to slide the door open… except it refused to move more than an inch

-          Confused, he stood and stared until he heard Shinge’s voice cooing seductively through the crack in the door. “Sing for me, my angel,” “… but someone’s outside!” “That’s probably Yuki. Don’t mind him, allow me to make you feel good”

-          Boy, did he blush like a rose from the garden

-          Dropping the leaf wrapped package by the door, he ran like the wind ((sorry, Yuki~))

[recurring-polynya]

Inspiration strikes sideways sometimes, and I was thinking about the Halloween ask @avatarpabu97​  sent me the other day, and then I started thinking about Byakuya and Spirit Phones (I am never not thinking about Byakuya and Spirit Phones, we all know this) and then I thought WHAT IF Byakuya ACTUALLY GOT a Spirit Phone???

Anyway, here’s a fanfiction. (thanks to @diademchiofthetripod for the beta, as always)

Communication Protocols [AO3] [FF.net]

Rating: G for Good God, this is ridiculous. At least it’s short.

Byakuya stared at the little rectangle lined up with the upper left corner of his blotter. 

He had just completed three personnel evaluations, the number he had allotted himself before he could pick it up again.

He picked it up again.

It was one of the new models, with a large screen and what he was told was a very nice camera. It was encased in some sort of bulky plastic shell, "for protection," as though he were incapable of protecting his personal possessions. He had grudgingly agreed to keep it in its case for a period of one month, until he was used to carrying this irksome little object around. To be honest, though, he did find it aesthetically pleasing-- Rukia had selected the shiny white shell, dusted with sakura petals, and her taste, at least in this matter, was impeccable. Perhaps he would leave it on.

No new Text Messages. 

Byakuya frowned. Perhaps it was broken.

He opened his contacts, and scrolled down until he located "Captain Hitsugaya  Toushirou."

"This is a test to ensure the Spirit Phone network is still working," he carefully typed out.

He hit send.

He waited.

The phone emitted a cheerful little binglety-boop.

He had received a Text Message from Captain Hitsugaya Toushirou.

"It's still working." He wished he couldn’t see the message above it, the last time he had texted Captain Hitsugaya Toushirou to ask if the Spirit Phone network was working. He especially wished it didn’t display a time stamp. 

A new Text Message from Captain Hitsugaya Toushirou arrived. "Do you want to spar or something? Go get a coffee?"

Byakuya contemplated this offer. Perhaps it would-- no. No, it was unnecessary. "Thank you, but I cannot. I am very busy today," he typed back.  He wasn't, not exactly, but he needed to stay caught up with his paperwork, now that, once again, his adjutant had been dispatched to more pressing concerns. 

"No prob, let me know if you change your mind."

Byakuya frowned. Captain Hitsugaya would never dream of saying "no prob" to him in person, even though they had slowly been cultivating an Informal Acquaintanceship over the last several years. That was the problem with these Spirit Phones, they broke down the proper formality of everyday relationships.

The phone made a special noise, not the generic binglety-boop, but the irksome screech of his lieutenant's first bankai. How had Abarai even obtained an audio recording of that? The phone informed Byakuya that he had received a Text Message from "My Awesome and Very Helpful Vice-Captain."

Abarai had done most of the work in setting up this odious little device for him, for which he was, of course, grateful. However, the man had left a few things in a less-than-desirable state.

"They're your contacts, you can set 'em up however you want," Byakuya remembered Abarai carefully explaining. "You can change my name and ringtone to whatever you want, as soon as you figure out how."

Byakuya had tried to get Rukia to do it for him, but she had, instead, just changed her own contact from "My Extremely Perfect Sister" to "My Extremely Badass Sister," which he found even more irritating than the Helpful Vice-Captain thing.

But he had no time for irritation at the moment. He opened the Text Message, and the first idiotic thought that entered his head was that he had made absolutely the right decision to start carrying this stupid rectangle with its excellent screen and superlative camera. 

Abarai had sent him a picture.

Byakuya stared at the picture for a long time. He was having an emotion, and for once, he didn't do anything to try and prevent it.

He then received a second Text Message from his Awesome and Very Helpful Vice-Captain.

"Your sister is a friggin' badass. Come on over whenever."

Several pieces of paper blew off his desk in the wake of Byakuya's departure.

 ---

Abarai was standing out front of his home contemplating his own Spirit Phone when Byakuya arrived. He turned the device around to display a stopwatch application.

"Thirty-seven point six seconds," he announced. "Takes ten minutes just to wrangle a Hell Butterfly. You understand now why everyone else has been using these things for years?"

"You're wasting my time, Lieutenant," he snarled.

Abarai grinned. "Yours and mine both. C'mon in."

Byakuya tactfully ignored the clutter as they entered the more casual living area at the rear of the house. This was unusual; Abarai and his sister more frequently entertained in the front room, and furthermore, usually took great care to have things tidy prior to his visits. Perhaps the occasional breakdown of formalities had its advantages. He certainly would certainly take a coffee table covered in infant-related ephemera over having to wait another minute to see his sister and her latest accomplishment.

Rukia was ensconced on the hideous piece of furniture they called a couch, pillows propped all around her so that she looked like she was sitting in a very plush throne. There was an intriguing lump wrapped in a purple blanket and propped against her chest. She looked very tired, but also incredibly smug. The coffee table had been pulled into a very strange diagonal position, where it was very close to the couch at one end, and further away. Rukia’s feet, in pink fuzzy socks, were propped up on the close end. The reason for the strange configuration suddenly became very obvious, it was so someone of a normal height could sit next to her without banging their knees. 

"That was fast," Rukia teased.

"This is a very serious occasion," Byakuya scolded her. "Surely, you have more pressing matters than...what is the word you use? Pushing me?"

"Dragging," Rukia supplied. "And, no. Nothing is more important than dragging you."

"Go sit," Abarai ordered, pointing at the spot on the couch next to Rukia. "Did you actually bring your phone with you or did you leave it in the office?"

"I brought it," Byakuya frowned, pulling it out of his kosode as he gingerly sat down.

"Good, I'm gonna teach you how to take a selfie."

Byakuya regarded the very precious thing Rukia was getting ready to hand him, and held out his phone to his lieutenant. "Maybe you could take it, instead. Renji. I promise I will let you teach me about self-portraiture later."

"No problem," his brother-in-law replied. "Byakuya."

A spirit phone was passed from one shinigami to another, and then a niece passed from a third shinigami back to the first one.

Byakuya carefully contemplated the tiny features of the infant, now that he could see her peacefully sleeping face. He could not mentally categorize any particular thing as belonging to either parent, aside from the soft down of bright red hair. She just looked like a baby.

There was the sound a false shutter closing, and Byakuya looked up, startled. "I was not ready," he protested.

"Doesn't matter, still a good picture," Renji mumbled, squinting at his phone.

"Send me a copy," Rukia insisted.

"Yeah, yeah," Renji agreed, engrossed in the task.

Byakuya sat up a little straighter, and tried to angle the baby so that her face would be visible in the photograph. "Try to look dignified," he informed her, even though she was asleep. "Take the picture, Abarai."

"Taking the picture, sir."

Abarai brought the phone over and showed Byakuya the picture. "Excellent," Byakuya approved, his heart tightening in his chest. There was a slight movement in his arms, and he realized that baby was now awake and squinting at him.

"You wanna see it, too, Ichi-chan?" Abarai said gently, idiotically turning the phone towards the infant, and brushing one large hand over her head. He straightened up, looking down at his daughter fondly. "You want me to make this your lock screen?" he offered.

"My what?" Byakuya echoed.

"Just do it," Rukia suggested dryly.

"You decided on Ichika?" Byakuya asked. He knew it had been a front-runner for the case of a girl, and it fit with the diminutive Abarai used to address the child, but he did not like to make assumptions. He, personally, would not have named a child after Kurosaki Ichigo, but neither would he argue with the choice. 

“Abarai Ichika,” Rukia confirmed.

Byakuya nodded. “Abarai Ichika,” he addressed his niece. “You are the very first person to be born into the Abarai clan, a branch of the eminent Kuchiki family, the Greatest Family in Soul Society. You are a very auspicious sign of future greatness for your clan.”

“What do you mean, future?” Rukia interrupted. “We’re already pretty great.”

“Shh!” Renji scolded. “Don’t interrupt his thing! I’ll take all the good luck we can get.”

Byakuya leaned forward. “Your mother is correct. You are already pretty great.”

 ---

When Byakuya returned to the office, he had another Text Message from Abarai, although there were a large number of other people listed on it as well, some identified by name and some by number. Ah! Was this a Group Text? He had heard the term thrown about, but had not yet been included on one.

"WATCH OUT, SOUL SOCIETY," it read, and included a picture Byakuya had taken himself, of Ichika with both her parents, all three of them making the same disturbingly Abarai-like facial expression, as though they were preparing to instigate a brawl in a drinking establishment of questionable repute. Rukia had claimed that this was Ichika’s default facial expression and both she and Abarai found it extremely humorous to make it at the baby and also at each other. A brief note followed, listing the baby’s name, various statistics, and an affirmation of Rukia's health.

The first response to this, attributed to one of those mysterious numbers, was "where are her" followed by a very small picture of a pair of sunglasses. Byakuya wondered how that was accomplished.

Many, many responses followed, some praising the cuteness of his niece, others offering congratulations, a few containing merely sequences of the little pictures (balloons, fireworks, etc). An argument broke out over which squad she belonged to, which Abarai himself cut off with a string of roughly 100 camellia symbols and "SQUAD 6 FOREVER!!!!!!" followed by more camellias. Byakuya felt mostly confused, but also vaguely proud.

Another unknown number accused, "rukia is asleep, isn't she?", which prompted  back ".................yes" from Abarai.

Byakuya frowned. Abarai's punctuation was never this poor. Ah, well, in all likelihood, he was probably a bit behind on sleep as well, not something that was likely to be remedied any time soon. Rukia had rejected Byakuya’s initial offer of sending over some of the servants to help out, but perhaps it wouldn't hurt to offer again once a few days had passed.

Another Text Message arrived, this one to himself, personally. It was from Captain Hitsugaya Toushirou. "Congratulations!" it read. "Have you seen her yet?"

Byakuya was feeling very adventurous. He experimented with a number of options on his phone. None of them turned out to provide the functionality he desired, although he did find the menu of little pictures.

"I did," he finally Text Messaged back. "She is very"  and then added a picture of a bunny. He sent it, and sat back, feeling very pleased with himself. 

He looked around his desk and realized that in his current mood, there was no way he would be able to write objective personnel evaluations. 

"It does not seem possible to attach a photograph to a Text Message from my Spirit Phone," he sent, yet again, to Captain Hitsugaya Toushirou, "but if you are still interested in meeting for tea (I do not drink coffee, but I know of a place that serves both), I have some I can show you."

"Let's do it," came back. "I can show you how to attach pictures."

Just to make sure he could do it without embarrassing himself, Byakuya navigated back through his main photography application, and located the pictures he had taken at Rukia and Renji's house. Very easy! He flipped back through them again. He decided that Ichika definitively favored her mother, how else could she possibly be so beautiful? 

He reached the first photograph of the day, the one Abarai had taken when he was not paying attention. Byakuya wasn't sure anyone had ever taken an unposed photograph of him before, although he knew Rukia and Renji took such pictures of each other constantly. Rukia's photographic ouvre was primarily "Renji falling off of things" (some of which were absolutely delightful). Renji didn't tend to share his photographic accomplishments, at least not with his superior, but he did keep one on his desk.  In it, Rukia, engrossed in her artwork, was tucking her hair behind one ear. Byakuya personally felt it belonged in a museum somewhere.

This photograph, his niece meeting her clan head for the first time, was of similar calibre. He hardly recognized himself, caught from the side, his face partially obscured by his hair, but not so much as to hide his facial expression, a mix of surprise and joy. He didn't remember feeling surprised. How could he possibly be surprised? This event had been anticipated for months. He did not particularly remember feeling joy at that moment, either, although he was feeling joy right now, and he couldn't specifically remember when that had started. 

He did not wish to be late for his appointment with Captain Hitsugaya, so he hit the proper button on his phone. He now understood what a lock screen was, and he was grateful for Rukia's good judgment on the matter.

In this photograph, which others might occasionally glimpse, he appeared much more appropriately himself, looking very, very full of pride. Ichika was yawning, her tiny face scrunched together on one side and stretched out on the other. 

He tucked his spirit phone into his kosode and headed out to show off his pictures of niece to his best Informal Acquaintance.

 the end!

 ---

Shinigami's Cup: GOLDEN!

"i hear you got a spirit phone!!! good jorb, dude!"

"Is this Kurosaki Ichigo? Abarai put you into my telephone contacts as 'the Worst Ryouka'."

"IT ME" ::Kurosaki Ichigo emoji::

"How did you do that? Why is that picture an option?"

"i am putting you in my contacts as Uncle Byakuya."

"Please do not."

"does yoruichi have your number?"

"No."

"i'm gonna give yoruichi your digits"

"Do not, Kurosaki Ichigo!"

::Kurosaki Ichigo emoji:: ::senkaimon emoji::

:: Ambassador Seaweed emoji:: :: zanpakutou emoji:: ::sakura emoji:: ::sakura emoji:: ::sakura emoji::

[carryonmywaywardwriters]

Love How You Hate Me - Sam x Reader

A/N: I had some time, am back home, and figured I’d just start reposting back from the beginning. I wanted to start with something that I haven’t seen in ages. Something that’s more personal to me. Edit and change it as I post. Because I’m in a far different place than I was three years ago, and I hope it shows this time around. So...I hope you enjoy <3

PSA: I am NOT a minor friendly blog. If you are below 18, please come back when you’re older. I don’t want to lose my blog because you were too eager to grow up. If I discover you, I WILL block.

Upcoming Warnings: Show level violence. Mentions of childhood trauma/sexual abuse sprinkled in (not super detailed. I do have my limits). Smut. A lot of detailed smut. Kidnapping. Near death experiences. Etc. Individual chapters will have different warnings. Read at your own risk.

Word Count: Roughly 3,500

“Could you get anymore annoying?”

“Sure.” You smirked broadly, eyeing up the competition with nothing short of arrogance. “I could be just like you.” That made Sam clench his jaw, and eyes flash dark. A reaction that showed just how much you were getting to him without even trying.

“Why do you keep her around?” Sam turned to his brother at the table, clearly attempting to hold back as much of his rage as he could manage. His knuckles were white against his skin while gripping his fork. Face carrying just a hint of red in his cheeks that pulled in tight. Revealing twin sets of unimpressed dimples. You couldn't help but to ponder what his blood pressure was. Definitely on the higher end.

He'd been in a mood from the moment he walked into the bunker, according to Dean. Sam had been 'perfectly fine' before then. It's probably because I was the first thing he'd spotted when he'd opened the door.

You two had been verbally sparring ever since. Nothing new. Your heart beat a little too fast from it all. Maybe I should check my B.P. while I'm at it.

“The entertainment value alone is worth it.” Dean grinned broadly at his brother. Drawing you back to the dinner time conversation. “She's the only one I've seen you really lose your temper with, Sammy. Plus, she's a mean cook.” He took a larger than life bite of chicken to emphasize his point. A grunt of approval was released while his eyes closed in bliss. “We can't cook like this. We'd be back to take out nonstop if she left, or I'd have to take up the mantle. And that...” Another giant piece of meat was shoved into his mouth, “That just feels like a crime.”

“I'd play humble, but I agree. I did knock it out of the park tonight.” You moaned out after a bite of your own. Noting the way the younger brother's eye twitched in response. “Plus, I'm a great maid. And am great at sorting through that mess called a file room when you're done with it. I could go on for hours, but you're already looking a little green, Sammy. I'd hate to see the food I worked so hard on go to waste.”

The flush darkened from your never ending sass, or the 'Sammy' usage. Either way, it was working. He was coming unhinged. His scowl got deeper as he shoveled his food into his mouth, eager to flee from your presence.

Whether he liked it or not, you really had assisted in making their lives easier in multiple retrospects; including the home cooked meals- something they rarely had before you joined the gang. And as a result of your ability to coexist with his boar of a brother, Sam was stuck with you. For life, the way things were going.

You had learned to appreciate getting under the younger Winchester's skin to some degree, and fought back another grin of triumph. Of course, he happened to see your lip twitch in amusement; forcing his glower to deepen further. It really was too easy most times.

It had begun the very first moment you two had met. You'd been a bit of a klutz that day; dumping coffee on his lap before you could even say hi. Tripping over your feet from the anxiety.

Dean had made the introductions while Sam suppressed his annoyance; attempting to not chew you out right from the start. You'd sat in embarrassment, trying not to cower from his dark looks. From there, the tension only got worse until it was clear he despised you even to poor- typically clueless- Castiel.

Unfortunately for Sam, you and his older brother had become close before you'd ever met him. Even if you had been useless to their lives, Dean would have kept you around out of nothing more than emotional attachment. Poor Sammy had no choice but to suck up your presence in the bunker as a result. Only getting a reprieve when him and Dean left for a hunt, or he went out solo.

At first you'd tried. Really tried. You'd even talked to Dean about ways to get his younger brother to warm up to you. You hated the tension and awkwardness that Sam seemed to feed off of. Nothing worked. If anything, every shy overture increased the hostility. Eventually, you had just given up. Dean had gone to the bat, determined to assist until he saw you start to give it as good as you got it. Then, he decided to step back and enjoy the show.

And what a show it was. For just over two years, war waged in the bunker. You didn't return Sam's deep hatred, but you certainly weren't above rising up to it. For every barb thrown your way, you returned one. More if the circumstances were right. And often, they were more than right.

At first, Sam had been surprised when you'd rebelled. It was enough to give you some peace for a few weeks, even. Giving you space as he processed the change. Then, he'd adapted to the new attitude. Finally finding someone he could take whatever was wrong in his life out on.

Over time, it became almost like a game between you two. Who could take the most heat? And for the most part, once you'd joined in, you two were equals in the battle.

“So, what'd you do while we were out?” Dean asked, mouth still full. They'd driven straight through; crashing as soon as they'd hit their rooms. He hadn't really had much time to catch up.

“Made a little head way on the file room. Dusted. Put all of the books in the library back. Ya know: maid stuff. But, most of the time, I ended up at Alice's.” You answered with a shrug. It wasn't a terribly exciting life you led. Unlike him and Sam.

“How's she doing?” His interest piqued. Chewing slower as he waited for you to give him the details.

“As happy as a woman on bed rest, in her eighth month of pregnancy can be.” You chuckled, thinking of your friend. She was a taller, naturally willowy woman with long strawberry blonde curls. Sporting a belly as big as a yoga ball in front of her. “Bane thinks she's going to pop any second. He's turning into a wreck.”

“Poor, guy.” Dean chuckled. Picturing it with ease. “I'll have to drop in sometime. Grab a present for the beast-to-be. Maybe that'll calm some nerves.”

Bane was slightly taller than either Winchester, but less bulky. His hair was practically black, it was so dark. The pair of had-been-hunters had been a package deal with you. Dean had joined into the gang without a problem once he'd met you. An amazing feat for the natural loner. Sam had taken to them with a similar ease- one that had excluded you.

“I'll go with you.” Sam spoke up, ignoring the sour look his words dredged up. Just great.

–

“Sam!” You screeched, tearing down the hall the next morning. As soon as you were able, you slammed onto his door with your fists. “Open up, you coward!” Teeth ground together as his bed creaked, but no other sound emitted. “Bastard!”

“What the hell is going on?” Dean peeked his head out of his door to see what was going down; hair sticking up everywhere. Ever the sleepy hedgehog. “Y/N? What's your problem, now?”

“He put dead fish in all of my drawers, and then shut off my air conditioning!” You hissed out. The putrid scent still clung to your nostrils. Riling you up further. “So, not only does my room smell like rotting fish- No, that wasn't good enough. He made sure that the heat stuck the scent to everything. I can't get it out! I've gone through three air fresheners! Three! I don't have a window I can open, Dean!” You turned back to the door, putting your entire strength into the knock. The wood shook with the force of it. Every bit of murderous rage transferring from you to the door in the process. “Sam Winchester! You're dead! Do you hear me? Dead!”

A string of very detailed- though empty- threats ensued, making Dean roll his eyes and walk away; carrying an 'it's too early for this shit' look on his face. With a sigh, he tightened his robe. Moving to seek out coffee. Wondering, not for the first time, if it was truly worth it to have you both at each other's throats.

Sam grinned as he heard the muffled sounds that were no doubt promises of retaliation over the music thumping in his ears. He'd decided you'd earned a present for all of your 'impeccable' manners the night before.

She really should've remembered to lock her door. He'd learned you were a fairly solid sleeper early on, and had used it to his advantage when he felt the urge. Sam was almost insulted that you hadn't kept your guard up. Maybe I'm getting out of practice? The increased echoes of you shouting confirmed that wasn't the case.

He'd rarely started prank wars in his life, preferring to finish what Dean started. But in your case, he'd made an exception. Several times. Wonder how long it takes her to check inside her box spring? His grin grew wide while he pondered over that one, turning up the volume until nothing else could be heard. Letting Celine Dion block you out. She thinks she's mad now...

--

You left to visit Alice to cool down; knowing that the moment you spotted the younger Winchester, you were going to lose your cool further. Exactly what he wanted. You'd be damned if you'd give him anymore satisfaction than your blow up that morning had already delivered.

“He did what?” She was trying not to laugh, making you narrow your eyes her way as you paced through the pale, homey room. She coughed to cover up her broken chuckles. Finally, the blonde almost made it to a serious note. “No, you're right. That isn't funny. It's awful.” A snort she couldn't seem to help left as she rested on the couch.

“It's like he's a five year old!” You grumbled, crossing your arms as maturely as you could. It failed. You resembled a sulking child, yourself. “I had an easier life in that one foster care home. The one with all the boys- The James's house. You know all of the horror stories from that place.” A shudder ran through you as you recalled being the only girl out of nine kids. “As bad as they were, at least they learned not to piss me off. This guy gets off on it.” Your eyes narrowed further as you thought about your room, again. “He could at least pretend not be so cruel. I mean, a water snake in the toilet would have been less evil.” At your friend's disbelieving look, you clarified, “That doesn't make all of my possessions reek indefinitely. It's short term misery.” Because that made perfect sense.

“I'll have to remember that one.” Sam's deep voice made you spin around to the living room entrance. Speak of the devil and he shall appear... 

He looked too comfortable resting near the kitchen. The way his plaid glued to his shoulders made him too large for you to stand. His expression too smug. It made you wonder just how cocky he'd look once you gave him a black eye. Maybe a split lip.

“Don't even think about it, Winchester.” You hissed out. He grinned in merriment as your E/C eyes flashed his way. “I grew up with that one. Always look before you sit.”

“Great advice.” 

“I try to be helpful.” Your tone was anything but. If looks could have killed, Sam Winchester would have been a dead man. Again.

You wanted nothing more than to strangle him for his childish prank. But, giving him any more satisfaction? You'd rather die.

Instead, you pulled out your inner ice queen that drove him crazy. All the while plotting your revenge. You felt your features relax into the cold mask you'd picked up in your childhood as you two looked at each other. The tiniest twitch in his left eye made it all worthwhile.

“Sammy!” Alice cooed in joy, holding her arms out for a hug. He stopped the stare down so he could move to bend down to her; wrapping her in a warm embrace. Careful not to crush the bump at her middle.

“How's the beast doing?” He asked before settling beside her on the couch. Behaving like a regular human being rather than a monster. You leaned against the wall, unwilling to take any of the open seats beside the giant ogre.

“Having a great time using my ribs as a trampoline.” She chuckled with a light grimace as her stomach rolled lightly from the movement of the child inside of her. Made all the more visible by her thin tank top.

“See, the perfect nickname.” He teased, having coined the unborn child once it started becoming more active. Watching the infant lull inside the womb with amazement.

“I don't know. I'm sure I can think of someone more fitting for that title.” You smiled sweetly, making sure to bat your eyes for the extra appearance of innocence. 

No one in the room bought it. Not even the child. All movement seemed to cease in response.

“So, have you two decided on a name, yet?” He ignored you, and went back to the baby talk.

You'd known he didn't have much to do with kids having grown up the way he had. Sam was thrilled at the prospect of being exposed to an infant before he eventually settled down into that life style himself. It had never been a secret.

As much as you disliked the man, you couldn't help but appreciate how intrigued he was with the entire thing. It was oddly adorable to see such a closed off- to you, anyway- man so enthused about new life. Though, you'd let a bus run you over before you admitted that out loud.

“We have an idea for a boy-”

“And a girl?” You asked, knowing exactly what was coming. However, you couldn't resist the jab.

“It's a boy. Why would she worry about a girl's name?” Sam looked at you as if you were crazy for even suggesting that option. The normally- when you excluded yourself from the equation- rational man was a hundred percent certain that he was right. You hoped it was a girl out of nothing short of spite.

“You're aware that we didn't allow them to give up the sex, right?” Alice chuckled at how solid Sam was on the baby's future identity.

“I just know.” You rolled your eyes at his response, earning a look from Alice that screamed for you to behave. With a low sigh and pursed lips, you forced yourself back to the nothing. Leaving your face empty as it relaxed.

“There's our favorite girl,” Dean walked in through the kitchen's entrance with Bane at his side. The proud papa-to-be was all decked out in his work gear- having landed a job with a local mechanic. Dark hair mused from the long shift. Meanwhile, his counterpart was in his usual clean cut layers. Spick and span without a hunt in sight.

“I thought I had that title?” You mock pouted as Dean trotted over to kiss Alice's cheek; forgetting  about the mask you were supposed to be sporting.

“When you're stuck in a bed- or on a couch- for four months, you can have your title back.” He sat down in the rocking chair beside her, making sure he winked your way first. Dean rested as close as he could. Always the protector of the young and innocent.

“You're not crazy doped up on hormones,” Bane walked over to you. Making up for the Winchesters' neglect. “So, you definitely have the edge.” He wrapped you up into a friendly hug. Giving you a sense of calm that you hadn't felt since Sam had walked back through the bunker's entrance.

You loved the big man like a brother. The both of you had met years ago while running away from your foster homes- well before Alice had joined the party. You two had been closer back in the day. Even so, the newfound distance regular life threw between you two didn’t take away any of the affection.

“She's just crazy in general,” Sam muttered, earning a swat from the closest thing your group had to a mother figure. “What? Am I wrong?” She just stared him down. Waiting for his will to crumble. Sure enough, he gave in. “Fine, sorry.” He grumbled. Then, the conniving bastard played his hand. “See if I give you the chocolate I bought...” His lips quirked up as he teased her, knowing her weakness.

“Chocolate?” She quickly agreed with his assessment of your character; earning a small, fond, smile from Sam. You were almost jealous at how easily he had taken everyone else. You'd never once received that look.

You didn't remain long after that. Hated feeling like an outsider within your own group of peers. You never stayed long once Sam infiltrated your favorite get away zone.

Instead, you fled to the closest store to pick up more air fresheners and groceries for the bunker. You took your time. Conversing with the locals and grabbing some food. Knowing that Bane and Alice would feed the other two.

By the time you forced yourself back to the bunker, they still weren't back. Part of you was relieved. The rest of you? Frustrated. You didn't let yourself dwell on it. Instead, you threw yourself into work.

“That dick.” You hissed, pulling out the last dead fish from under your bed. Without a hitch, you tossed it into your trash can beside you. The rotting corpse churned your gut. It took everything in you not to gag as you glanced around to make sure it truly was the final one.

“He's upped his game since the last time we'd gone at it.” Dean's voice made you jump. The action slammed your skull against the frame loudly. “Oh, damn. You okay?”

“I'm good.” You rubbed your scalp lightly, wiggling out from the danger zone. “All of my clothes are in the washer. I think I finally found the last piece of tuna. And, I can kind of breath in here, again.” You had fans on, and the air fresheners were finally making a difference...slowly. “I think I'm good for right now.” It took every bit of strength you had not to rub your head as you flipped the can up to tie the bag.

“You know, if you wanted to leave...I wouldn't stop you.” Dean's words made you freeze for a moment. When you finally looked up? Dean looked haggard from the day he'd had.

“Why would I want to leave?” You played deliberately obtuse as you moved to slowly sit on your bed.

You should have known that he'd have been able to read you like a book. He was awful when it came to himself, but you? He'd noticed the wear the bunker was leaving on you.

“Come on, Y/N.”  Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. “I'd have to be blind to miss how miserable you and Sam are around each other. And you? You seem to be having a harder time than usual. And that got me thinking-”

“It's nothing compared to some of the homes, Dean.” You sent him a soft smile. He knew all about your past, and winced at the thought of what you'd been through. “Not to mention, you two aren't the only legacies. This place... It's in my blood.” You looked around your room, taking in the only place you'd ever felt safe enough to sleep soundly in. It was amazing what a simple DNA test could uncover. “Plus, what would I do without Dean Winchester down the hall to turn to?”

“That's just it.” He was clearly bothered by what his mind had conjured up. Frowning even deeper as he started to pace. His hand moving aggressively as he talked. “We're not here all of the time. We're gone way more than we're home. You don't have me just down the hall-”

“So, get me a puppy to have for company while you're gone.” You laughed lightly. Getting to your feet, you reached to grip his broad, navy covered shoulders. Forcing him to look at you. “Dean, I'm fine. Really. If I had any complaints, I'd let you know.” 

You appreciated his concern. It made up for everything else. Even with his brother's behavioral problems, you were happier in the bunker than you'd been in your entire life. It didn't matter if things were a little more heated than usual the past few weeks.

“That's just it, Y/N.” He looked you deep into the eyes. “You're always 'fine' nowadays, but when's the last time you were more than that?” Just like that, your face fell. You hated when Dean got deep, and hit home...

Part Two

[fluffyunicornofdanger]

Her Royal Highness

A/N: Okay, so I really love the overall plot of this, but I feel that I didn’t do that great of a job getting my thoughts out. So, I’m sorry. I am thinking of making a second part but I’m not sure. Just depends on if you guys like it or not. So, let me know if I should. Thanks so so much to @waymorecake4me , who is like the loveliest human around, for helping me edit. I will have a few more one-shots out soon. Requests are open as always, so feel free to send them in.

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Masterlist

Brian May x Reader

Part Two

Summary: What’s the difference between lying and keeping things to yourself? A question that Y/n has to ask herself when the truth of about her family comes to light. And the answer may not be one that Brian wants to hear.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Language

(Disclaimer: Andorra is a real country in Europe, landlocked between France and Spain. It may be real, but it does not have an existing monarchy. So, please remember that this is a work of fiction. And I would appreciate it if you guys didn’t go around telling people that Andorra has a monarchy, it wouldn’t make you sound very smart.)

A light breeze blew through the second story window, gently tossing up loose papers that were stacked on a desk in the corner of the large bedroom. It was a lovely day, the sky a brilliant blue in the early morning with the warm sun beating down. A nice contrast to the cloud covered skies from a few days before. On a normal day like that, Y/n would be outside, either reading on the patio or gardening. But it wasn’t a normal day. Instead, Y/n found herself lying on her stomach, wishing the world would just swallow her whole.

In her hands, rested one of the many gossip magazines that London had to offer. It was one of those that could be found near the registers when going for groceries. She generally never cared for them, all being full of lies, as it was. But what donned the cover of the one in her hands was no lie. It read in large white letters, “Queen and the Princess: Is Andorra’s youngest princess really away at school?” Under the title was a picture taken a few weeks back of Y/n walking hand in hand with Queen’s guitarist, Brian May.

Y/n groaned, looking at the photo. What was she going to tell him? There was no doubt in her mind that he would catch a glimpse at the cover. He was sure to ask about it and it would do no good to keep hiding things.

Y/n and Brian had been dating for a little under a year, taking things nice and slow as Queen started to grow in popularity. She didn’t mind the pace, it gave her plenty of time to mull over information that was bound to come out. And she was used to a slower way of life, one where the media didn’t get in the way, something that was becoming a problem for Queen.

Brian had been afraid when they first started dating, that she would be thrown off by his rock star life. That she would think it was too overwhelming, too loud, and too wild. But only on occasion did those things ever cross her mind and it was generally at an after party when everyone was completely wasted. She was never allowed to be wild and free, never allowed to be more than a pretty face. So, she enjoyed being able to let her hair down every once in a while.

Therefore, she didn’t share his fears.

Above everything in her life, she feared the truth. Brian may have worried about how she would deal with being with someone in the spotlight, but he didn’t know who he was talking to. Her whole life, she had always been the center of attention. She couldn’t go anywhere or do anything without multiple people being by her side. She couldn’t be a normal person, live a normal life, without someone doing everything for her. And so, she feared that he would find that out.

With that large white heading, she feared that he would finally learn the truth and be hurt over the fact that he didn’t learn it from her. But what would it matter? He would probably be hurt either way. Being kept in the dark about something that big, that important, always brought along pain. But Y/n wanted to be more than her title. She wanted to be more than Her Royal Highness Princess Y/n L/n. She wanted to do more than what she was born into. She wanted to be a person, judged by her actions and her attitude rather than her money and standing. So, if she had to lie to get that, then so be it.

It’s not that she didn’t want to tell him when they first started seeing each other. Y/n had moved to London to study medieval history and experience the life of a normal college student. Her parents had allowed it, under the condition that she kept her heritage in the dark until she graduated. They were afraid that someone would try and take advantage of her because of her title and money. But Y/n knew that Brian wasn’t like that. And after a couple of dates, the thought of telling him the truth had crossed her mind. But she had yet to act on those thoughts.

Y/n tossed the magazine on her nightstand before slowly rolling out of bed. Throwing her legs over the side, her eyes met the warm spring day outside her window. She was supposed to go to lunch with Brian and the boys, something she had been looking forward to earlier in the week, but now came to dread. Standing from the bed, she went to the window, opening it slightly to allow more air in. The smell of lilies and orchids greeted her nose while she pulled clothes out of her wardrobe.

Once dressed, wearing an olive green skirt and a white blouse, and ready for the day, she made her way down to the kitchen. Putting the kettle on the stove, she decided to clean the kitchen, waiting for it to boil. As the kitchen was her favorite place to work in the house, with the most windows, all her notes and textbooks were strewn out on the counter. Gathering them up and stacking them in a neat pile, she simply moved them to the end of the counter. They were bound to be scattered along the surface later, so there was no use in putting them elsewhere.

Y/n gazed out the window, watching as the wind caught some of the flowers in her garden, tossing them around. Just then, the kettle came to a boil, the harsh sound stealing her attention away. She grabbed a cup and poured the steaming water in it before looking for a packet of tea. Once her tea was made, she made her way to a little window seat at the end of the hallway between the kitchen and the parlor. Settling down on the soft cushions, she was given a great view of her back garden, her peaceful refuge.

                                                       *~~~*

Long fingers ran through the thick black curls before getting stuck on a knot. Brian let out a sigh as he attempted to tame his hair. But it was no use, it had a mind of its own. And he really didn’t care anymore, not after Roger tossed him a magazine with a picture of him and Y/n on the cover.

“It can’t be true,” John stated, trying to assure his friend while tuning his guitar. It was an outlandish statement, they could all agree on that whether they believed it to be true or not.

Brian knew that it couldn’t be true, Y/n would never keep a thing like that from him. They told each other everything. He knew more about her than he did anything else. She probably just shared many of the same features as Andorra’s princess. A simple case of mistaken identity, that’s all it was. That’s all it could be.

Roger twirled his drumsticks around, looking to his friend, “But what if it is?” Freddie gave him a dirty look from where he was standing against the door frame before he continued. “I mean, would you go around telling people something like that. And we can’t know for sure unless we ask her. “

Everyone nodded. Believing that it wasn’t true and knowing for a fact that it wasn’t, were two different things, but Brian didn’t know what he would do if it was. Y/n was his best friend, sure he had his bandmates, who were like brothers, but he shared everything with her. It was easy for him to be open with her, she was kind and accepting. She never put down his feelings or overlooked anything he said. She was always listening and was always there for him. She made it clear through the tiniest of things that she loved him. And he thought that she wouldn’t keep something of this magnitude from him.

“What do I do if it is?” he asked, leaning back into the couch. They were supposed to be recording, but once Roger walked in, that became the last thing on their mind. Now, all the four men could think about was Andorra’s youngest princess and the woman that was claimed to be her.

The room went silent, all except for the sound of Roger’s drumsticks flying out of his hand and clattering on the ground.

No one was sure what to do if it was true. All they knew for sure was that if it was, everything would change. That was information that couldn’t just be glossed over. You couldn’t forget about it, only coming to mind every now and then, and you couldn’t change it. You could do nothing about it but accept it.

“Even if it is true, this doesn’t change anything between the two of you,” Freddie tried to sound encouraging. But what else could he say? If he said that everything would be in ruins over it, he would sound like a horrible friend, even though it was a possible outcome. “You darlings are clearly in love.”

John snickered, “Yeah, more in love than Roger is with his car.”

Roger chucked his drumstick at the bassist, missing by an inch and hitting the wall behind him. Freddie laughed at the comment, causing a drumstick to be thrown in his direction as well, missing once again as Roger didn’t have the best aim. It was a good thing that he was a drummer and not a baseball player.

Brian cracked a smile, the first since Roger flung a gossip magazine in his face. He always tried to stray away from them, always full of nothing but lies. They were cheap entertainment and why read one when he could afford better forms of entertainment? But just because it was cheap entertainment, full of lies and exaggerated truths, didn’t mean that the bold white heading didn’t hold some truth.

                                                      *~~~*

The light breeze from the early morning had grown stronger, blowing Y/n’s skirt around, making it difficult for her to walk to the restaurant she was supposed to meet the boys at. She prayed to god that Brian hadn’t seen a copy of the magazine that she had stuffed in her bag before leaving the house. Mentally, she wasn’t prepared to have a conversation on the subject, whether he found out from her or a stupid gossip magazine. But she knew that she would feel worse than she already did if he found out from someone other than her.

Y/n pushed the doors of the small corner restaurant open, her eyes wandering around before catching sight of Brian’s wild curls near the back. The place was nearly empty except for a few tables that looked to be finishing up breakfast. It was noon on a Thursday, not the ideal time for people to be out and about.

John was the first to notice her arrival as she neared the table, everyone else followed his gaze. As much as they tried to look happy and thrilled to see her, she could see that their eyes were weighted down by something.

Brian stood from his chair, pulling out the one next to him for her to take. Y/n gave him a smile before sliding into her chair. After pushing it in, he took his seat, causing a stiff layer of tension to overtaken the group.

He had seen the magazine.

She didn’t need him to say anything to know. She had grown up with that tension. It was always lingering when she would sit down for dinner with her family after doing something that her parents clearly said was off limits. Or when she would wear a dress that was just a little too short or the wrong color. There was always something and it was always her fault.

“We, um, ordered some tea,” Roger tried to ease the tension that everyone could feel. Y/n nodded, tea would be good. Maybe relieve some of the stress that was starting to build up.

“Y/n,” Brian turned to her, his tone stern. It was the one he often used in public when Roger would do something the rest of his bandmates disapproved of. Y/e/c orbs stared into his and he found himself at a loss for words. He cleared his throat as Roger, Freddie, and John waited for him to continue, sitting on the edge of their seats. “I-um… I saw a magazine cover this morning that was rather odd.”

Y/n sucked in a breath. Even though she knew he had, it was probably hard to miss, she still wished different. She ran her tongue over her teeth, thinking on whether she should pull the magazine out of her bag or not. It’s not like it would get her anywhere, he had already seen it. But she could play dumb and pretend that she hadn’t, but what good would that do? The truth always comes out in the end.

But what would was she to say? What was she to tell him? That it had slipped her mind? That she had meant to tell him from the start but was afraid of his reaction? How could she tell him any of that when she didn’t think he would understand?

Against her better judgment, she reached down to the bag that had been placed near her feet minutes before. Rummaging through it, her fingers grazed over the pages of the magazine before she pulled it out. Y/n took one look at the cover before placing it on the table in front of her boyfriend. “This magazine?”

Brian nodded, raising a brow. He hadn’t expected her to have seen it. Not when she always spent Thursday mornings at home as she had no classes. “Uh, yeah. That would be the one,” he pointed at it, taken back by her actions.

Before any more words could be exchanged, a waitress came over with a tray of tea, setting a cup in front of everyone. No one said a word as everyone filled their cups with their desired amount of sugar and cream. While Y/n spooned sugar into her cup, Roger eyed Brian, silently asking what he was going to do know.

And the answer was, he had absolutely no bloody idea.

Y/n took a sip of tea, tasting it to see if she put just enough sugar in, she set the cup down and looked at the pieces of paper that laid between her and the man beside her. “It is rather odd, isn’t it? I don’t remember seeing anyone in that generally direction with a camera,” she recalled, remembering the day the photo had been taken.

Brian rubbed the back of his neck, not quite sure what to say. He glanced at Freddie, looking for help, who only shrugged in return. Y/n seemed to be deflecting, but who could blame her?

“I don’t think that’s what he means, darling,” Freddie commented. Y/n gave him a small smile, she knew exactly what he meant. She knew what he was looking for her to say, but she wasn’t sure if she could. Once he knew the truth, she feared that he would treat her different. Act stiff and formal around her like so many other men that she had attempted to date. Y/n couldn’t have that. Not again. Not ever.

Thin, long fingers stole her hand away from the warmth of the cup in front of her. Her eyes trailed up to meet a pair of hazel ones and at that moment she could see the hurt building up in his eyes. She wasn’t even sure anymore why she didn’t tell him from the beginning. What would it change? It wasn’t like she held any power. She was only a figurehead in her family. She wasn’t next in line for the throne, she wasn’t in charge of any commodities or programs. She was just the youngest daughter of the King of one of Europe’s small countries. She was no one of importance. But she was important to him and knowing Brian, he would simply look past her title. She was a fool for thinking otherwise.

But she took into account the actions and behaviors of everyone that she had grown up around, the people that served her family and those that they interacted with during visits. Those people always acted stiff and proper, therefore, it was drilled into her mind that everyone acted that way around her when they knew who she was. But when she was a small child, going to a private school where people only knew her as Y/n, everyone was different. They were kind and open and treated her as they would treat anyone else. She craved that. She craved that type of interaction and that is what lead her to be sitting in a restaurant with the world weighing down on her.

Y/n sucked in a deep breath as Brian started to rub circles over the back of her hand with his thumb. “I-I, um… fuck,” she mumbled, trying to find a way to formulate the correct sentence. Was there even a correct way? In the end, she would still hurt him. She leaned back in her chair, the pressure of having four pairs of eyes trained on her wasn’t helping her think. “Okay, okay. What do you think of this?”

“Well, I think it’s wrong,” he drawled, clearly unsure where she was going with it.

Y/n nodded, grabbing the magazine. “And did you read anything besides just the cover?” He shook his head, causing her to flip through the pages before landing on two pages all about the topic on the front cover. She skimmed over the pages then set it in front of him. “What do you think now?”

Brian grabbed the magazine, his dark eyes analyzing the words in dark ink that were adorning the white, glossy finished pages. At the top corner of the first page was a portrait of what looked like Y/n in a baby blue satin dress and a tiara with dark blue sapphire gems. Underneath, it had a paragraph about the youngest princess of Andorra, who was supposed to be studying in London. Then beside the small paragraph was another picture of Y/n and Brian. The second page was full of more pictures of the two of them from different events they had gone to together.

“This is you?” he pointed to the portrait at the top of the page, getting a shy nod in response. “And why am I just finding this out?” As much as he wanted to be angry, his voice trembled slightly. He was afraid of the answer. Afraid that it would break his heart.

“Because it didn’t really seem to matter before.”

Brian released her hand, running it through his curly, slightly tangled locks. That was not the answer he was expecting, making his blood boil. “It doesn’t matter?” he seethed. “Because being honest doesn’t matter, does it?”

Y/n could see his glare out of the corner of her eye as she stared in front of her, trying to find the right answer to his questions. She hadn’t really lied to him. When he asked what her parents did, she told him that both her parents were in politics, which was true. When he asked about her siblings, she told him that they were in politics as well as that was the family business. That she grew up in the countryside, a true statement in the summer months when there was no school, and that she had gone to private school, as her parents could afford it. Everything she had told him was the truth, she had just left some bit and pieces of information out.

Roger gave Brian a sympathetic look. All the boys loved Y/n. She was a joy to be around and they saw the effect she had on their bandmate. She brought a smile to his face even when she wasn’t around. They couldn’t lose her. Brian couldn’t lose her, not like this.

Brian simply shook his head, waiting for his girlfriend to answer.

“A better question would be: did I lie to you or simply leave something out?” She gripped the handle of her teacup, bringing it to her lips. He was already angry and hurt, anything else she decided to add was just shoveling dirt onto her already sealed coffin. That’s the conclusion she came to.

“Which is it, Y/n?”

She brought the cup down, turning to face him. She could see how tense he was, and as much as she wanted to reach out to and cup his face, she knew that he would pull away from her. It pained her to see that she had caused such pain that was clearly written on his features. “I would never lie to you, Brian,” she stated, grabbing her bag and pushing her chair out. On the brink of tears, she was not going to continue this in a restaurant. Not when she knew that nothing she said would make it any better. There were many conversations that were meant to be had in private, and one about her family was one of those.

“Where are you going?” Brian stood, watching her walk away from the table.

“Home.”

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Permanent Taglist: @rexorangecouny @jennyggggrrr

(Please let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist and I would love to hear your thoughts on the fic.)

[artificialqueens]

Different Names For the Same Thing (Trixya) - Chapter 3 - Pilandok

Trixie is in the middle of an emotional crisis and Katya doubles down on the idea that making-out solves everything.

AN: Category is: inconsistent chapter lengths and jumping from a G rating to an M.

Read chapter in AO3. Read from chapter one.

            Trixie needs T-Rex to stop looking at her like that. He doesn’t really understand why T-Rex insists on acting the part of a concerned mother when he knows they both have the same crass humor and prefer the midwestern brand of pick-me-ups— which is honestly more about the booze than the consolation.

            “Save it for the kicked puppy down the street, T,” Trixie deadpans. Diversions like that only work when it’s entertained and T-Rex pointedly does not stop looking at Trixie like he’s the most pitiable thing in the universe. Trixie gives up and slumps down his chair, lifting his cap to fix the non-existent hair on his scalp out of habit. T-Rex doesn’t even look like he’s going to make a joke about it. Trixie sighs.

            “Kim told you, didn’t she?”

            “You know it, girl,” T-Rex answers, finally breaking eye contact to grab his drink and take a sip. Then a little quieter,  “Shea probably knows, too.”

            “Shit,” Trixie puts her forehead on the table. The opening riff of a Dusty Springfield song echoes in the near-empty bar. Son Of a Preacher Man. Jesus Christ. He could just imagine how pathetic he looks like right now.

            “Frankly, I’m a little offended.”

            “Maybe if you visited me more often…” Trixie says onto the table.

            “Bitch, don’t even start,” T-Rex tells him, “am I not sitting in this straight bar with you right now?”

            Trixie looks up and shoots an apologetic look to T-Rex. It’s easier now that he’s not being treated so precariously.

            “Thank you,” he says, too genuinely that T-Rex looks a little disgusted as if he, himself, hasn’t been a sap all night. Trixie scream-laughs at this reaction and the people around them look.

            “Looks like our cover is blown, they know that there’s a couple of queers in this place,” T-Rex mock whispers at him, “Which is a waste cause I butched up. I wore a denim jacket.”

            “Shut up,” Trixie laughs, “I like it here! The bartender knows me.”

            “Yeah, you and your hillbilly music.”

            “She’s a queer icon!”

            The song swells into its chorus, the only one who could ever reach me, was the son of a preacher man. Trixie scrunches his face like he’s in physical pain.

            “Kim didn’t need to tell me, anyway, everyone saw that picture of you and Katya messing up each other’s faces.”

            Oh. That fucking picture. It’s the blurriest picture someone could take from across the street but it’s undeniably him. He’s always dreamed of being recognized along Hollywood Boulevard and there it is: the make-up is unmistakably Trixie Mattel and she got caught in a reddit-level scandal. And what other drag queen of that build and hair color would make out with him in public if not Katya? Trixie doesn’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing that everyone just assumed it was Katya.

            Anyway, why does the universe always have to go out of its way to Aesop’s Fables his life? How many roundabout ways can they tell him that the moral of the story is be careful what you wish for?

            “T, I don’t know what to fucking do.”

            T-Rex looks at him, gaze softened. He reaches out to squeeze Trixie’s hand once.

            “It’s okay—“ he begins but cuts himself off, “actually, I don’t know if it’s okay. I have no idea how Katya thinks. He’s great, really, I just— I just know how you are when you fall in love. I don’t want to see you get hurt again. And he’s done it before.”

            “Don’t,” Trixie says as a warning.

            “I know. I know what happened. You forgave him so I don’t really have a right to say anything. But Trix, if you’re not going to let yourself be worried about that, let me be worried. I’ll hold that little grudge for you.”

            Trixie takes a moment, feelings of affection bubble in his chest. It’s probably the alcohol in his system but he begins to wonder if there’s an alternate universe in which he moved to Chicago after Drag Race instead of L. A. He could go to Roscoe’s and Berlin regularly to watch T-Rex host and hype him up and get drunk with him back stage. Maybe he wouldn’t be as busy as he is now and he would have more nights with Shea and Kim and all the girls that accepted him ten years ago.

            “T…” Trixie begins, her voice cracking.

            “Don’t cry, bitch,” T-Rex puts his hands up and Trixie can see the flush on his cheeks and hear the light slurring of his words, “cause I’m tipsy enough to cry and they’re gonna see that we’re sissies and they will beat us up, I swear.”

            “Ahh! Stop acting like this bar is Westboro Baptist!”

            Trixie is laughing loudly, too emotional to care when a couple of tears slide down his face. He appreciates T-Rex, really, although it begins to dawn on him that something doesn’t add up.

            “What exactly did Kim tell you?” Trixie asks after running the back of his hand across his eyes.

            “That you were fulfilling your fan-manifested destiny and slowly realizing that you were in love with Katya,” T-Rex shrugs. At Trixie’s lack of response, he squints his eyes, “Why? Is there anything else?”

            It’s a half-truth, Trixie thinks. Maybe Kim deserves more credit than they usually give him. The bitch knew what really needed to be kept a secret. Besides, Kim telling their friends is probably as much of a push on Trixie’s back that Kim will ever give him, since he’s always been too stubborn to ask for help. Trixie supposes that “being in love” is a way to summarize it, albeit misleading.

            “There’s a ghost haunting me,” Trixie admits.

            “What?”

            “And I think that he’s haunting Katya, too,” Trixie stares at a space just above T-Rex’ head, “He’s been freaking out and kissing me so much suddenly.”

            “Wait- wait- what?”

            “I don’t know, I think he knows. I think he does, I think it’s starting to manifest onto him and I guess being someone’s reincarnation can drive someone a little crazy.” Hearing himself say it out loud, Trixie recognizes the absurdity of the situation. He begins to suspect that maybe Kim just didn’t believe him after all. “I don’t know if Kim is being a good friend or a bad one.”

            T-Rex, still confused, looks like he’s about to give up on the night. He taps his bottle against Trixie’s, the clink is loud against the song fading to the end. The only one who can ever prove me was the son of a preacher man.

            “What else is new?” T-Rex scoffs, “That’s why I should have been your first call.”

            Katya knows he’s being greedy. He knows that’s it’s just selfishness when his hands wrap around the back of Trixie’s neck so he can pull him down harshly for a kiss. He knows that he’s acting spoiled when he scratches on Trixie’s nape so he can feel him gasp against his mouth, so Katya can slide his tongue between Trixie’s lips. Katya’s always been susceptible to indulgences— no need to hold back when the world is unstoppably racing to it’s tragic finish—and indulge he does because Trixie’s so hot when he has that hazy look in his half-lidded eyes and when and Katya can feel Trixie’s low moan vibrate throughout his body when he kisses him on his throat. He’s only fucking human.

            Really, Trixie should be the one with the self-control about this. As much as Katya feels sorry for burdening the boy with the mental labor, Trixie is the one who picked that role for himself when he decided to be the straight man to Katya’s performative sexual advances.

            An hour ago he invited Trixie over to “hang-out” and the pregnant pause that followed told Katya that Trixie knew exactly what he wanted. Katya waited on the rejection but the only thing he heard was “yeah, okay.” The phone call equivalent of a shrug. Katya feels like a kid being given free reign of the Chocolate Factory.

            What business does Trixie have indulging him in his whims? Katya should really be filing a complaint; this is not the relationship dynamic he signed up for. But then he hears Trixie whimper when he bites his lips and Katya can’t help but think, praise Willy fucking Wonka.

            Katya drags Trixie across the room by the lapels of his shirt. Walking backwards, he’s relying on his muscle memory of the general location of his wares so he won’t trip on a coffee table on the way to the couch. Trixie grunts, complaining wordlessly, but he moves along obediently. When Katya’s calves feel cushions, he spins them both around and pushes Trixie onto the couch and he lands with a huff. Trixie frowns at him, but Katya immediately climbs on top of him, knees on either side of Trixie’s thighs, and smashes their lips together again. He feels Trixie freeze, and whenever he does, Katya thinks Trixie is finally going to push him away and ask questions. He never does. Soon enough, Trixie’s back on the same page, and Katya feels Trixie’s fingers curl around his belt loops.

            Katya is stupidly hard against his briefs, the kind of achingly hard erection that he thinks is impressive for his age. Trixie is, too, probably, but they never go further than this. Katya is sure that that would be too far for Trixie— he doesn’t want to think of what it means if it wasn’t.

            Still, like a true hedonist, he double downs on his kisses. He knows he can make-out for hours, he loves it. Katya wants Trixie sweating under him, he wants his tongue sliding in between Trixie’s lips to press on the roof of his mouth and feel the canines of his teeth. He needs Trixie to swallow all of those questions he won’t ask. Katya knows he’s being greedy.

            In the pause of catching their breath, Katya is resting his head on Trixie’s shoulder, pressing lazy kisses on Trixie’s collar bone.

            “Brian,” Trixie whispers. Katya’s body goes rigid, he can feel his heart beat in his ears. “My jaw hurts. Can we take a break?”

            “Oh,” Katya makes a move to get off Trixie and when he plops down on to the space beside him, he begins to feel the strain on his thighs. He watches Trixie walk to the kitchen, picking up the electric kettle on his way to the sink. Katya can feel the sweat run down from his forehead. He ponders on turning up the AC but he decides against getting up. Trixie already has an unopened box of tea from the cupboard and Katya notes how effectively Trixie navigates his space— he’s pretty sure the tea is something Trixie gifted him from before. When the water boils, Trixie pours it in the mug with the bag he place inside. He waits a few seconds before turning around to face Katya.

            Katya is immediately reminded why he doesn’t like this much distance between them. It’s because Trixie looks at him like that. Like he’s looking for something in Katya, something that’s impossible for him to give. Katya hates it when Trixie has that gaze that doesn’t seem to see him but something beyond him. Something in him that deserves all the tenderness from Trixie that he never worked to earn. It’s because Trixie looks at him like that that Katya kisses him roughly, can’t help but dig his nails into Trixie’s biceps and bite hard at his earlobe. The harsher he treats Trixie, the more that Katya feels like Trixie is really looking at him. The more Trixie bites back, the further away they get from the gentle, school-boy kisses in his dreams. Katya needs this to be realer than the dreams.

            But somehow, after everything, Trixie can still afford to look at him like that.

            “Why are you letting me do this to you?” Katya asks suddenly. The distaste sits on his mouth. Still, it throws Trixie off like he wanted to and the affectionate gaze turns into a scowl.

            “Don’t be a cunt,” Trixie replies curtly.

            Katya deserves it, he’s not the one who should be asking questions. Not when he hasn’t answered any of Trixie’s unspoken ones. He sits up properly and his right leg starts to bounce as soon as his feet hit the floor. He should let it go, just enjoy what he’s getting, enjoy that Trixie hasn’t been demanding anything from him. But Katya sees the angry bruise forming on Trixie’s neck from when he sucked on it so much, he sees the slight swell on Trixie’s lips.

            “I’ve been dreaming about you, you know,” Katya breathes, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

            Trixie tries to hide his reaction by sipping on his tea but Katya sees the whirlwind forming in his eyes.

            “Tell me about them, Brian.”

            And Katya should tell him. Tell him about the dreams where he wasn’t himself but Trixie was Trixie and he was looking at not-Katya and kissed him so tenderly. In those dreams he was a different boy and made promises he swore he could keep and counted the bruises on Trixie’s skin. In that other life, Trixie would fiddle with the rosary around his neck while he’s telling Trixie he would never hurt him.

            Katya doesn’t understand it, but he knows that that’s what Trixie has been looking from him, in those longing looks. He feels like if he gives it to Trixie, Trixie will never look at him again. Trixie would only see the stupid illusion of a boy that his brain pretends to be when he’s asleep.

            “Brian, tell me about the dreams,” Trixie asks of him again, his voice cracking, “please.”

            “I was a painter in Vienna at the turn of the 20th century. I first saw you from my balcony window and called for you to come up. I kiss you and every night you would climb my window so I can kiss you some more. I never ask you about your job or your family or the sheet music you dropped that had the name Екатерина crossed out on top,” Katya says this in a rush and he can see Trixie slowly deflate, his lips pressing into a thin, hard line. It’s a lie, he thinks, and Trixie recognizes the lie. “Every time I see you, I paint a little bit of you. My canvas is starting to look like a grotesque monster.”

            After a beat, Trixie sets his cup down loudly on the counter. He marches over to the couch and Katya wonders if he’s finally crossed the line, if he’s pushed Trixie over the edge and he’s going to lose Trixie forever. He thinks that Trixie is going to slap him. Instead, Trixie grabs two fistfuls of his shirt and pulls him up to a rough kiss. Their teeth clack painfully but Trixie doesn’t stop, keeping Katya suspended, half-sitting. The hands are holding onto him so tightly that he starts to feel lightheaded. Trixie’s never been this rough with him. And he hates pain, but if Trixie manhandles him, he doesn’t mind, especially not when he can practically feel his dick pulsating in his pants.

            Trixie shove him back to the couch, the impact knocking the wind out of him. Before he can catch his breath, he’s already being straddled, Trixie grinding roughly against his concealed boner. Katya groans and grabs Trixie’s ass, pressing them down against him as he bucks his hips upward. Katya feels fingers dig at his shoulders.

            When he looks up he sees Trixie glowering over him, hot angry tears sliding down his face. Katya stops. His hands reach up to touch Trixie jawline, he feels the moisture on his thumb. He makes a move to wipe them, he wants to.

            “Trix, let me fuck you,” he tells Trixie instead.

            Trixie throws his head back to laugh a humorless laugh.

            “You’re a fucking psychopath,” Trixie says before reaching down and sliding his hand inside Katya’s pants, cupping his erection over his underwear. Katya’s breath hitches. Trixie leans forward until his lips touch Katya’s earlobe. “If we’re going to have sex, I’ll be the one fucking you.”

            With that, Trixie promptly gets up, collect his things on the coffee table, and walks out the door without looking back. The door frame shakes at the impact of it being slammed shut.

            It takes a minute for Katya’s brain to catch up with him. He finds himself alone in his living room, slumped on a couch, panting. His hard dick is struggling against his clothes, calling for his attention. But Katya doesn’t dare touch it.

[ghostbustermelanieking]

the creature in the deep (part 2 of 2)

Summary: In the aftermath of Scully’s mind control via television, she and Mulder depart to Norway to investigate the Kraken.

the second part of my entry for @wtfmulder’s cryptid challenge. (part one is here.) some warnings up front for some violence and peril.

---

two.

The storm didn’t calm any after Mulder and Scully went back into the cabin of Jacob Kellerman’s boat; if anything, it seemed to rage harder, the rain drumming at the roof so hard, it sounded as if it might come through, and the wind howling and rattling the windows, shaking the boat extraordinarily hard. The cabin was fairly warm and dry, thankfully, considering their shivering state as seawater dripped off of them. Cetus stuck his head out curiously, licking drops of water off the floor.

Jacob wanted to continue to keep an eye on the steering—”In weather like this,” he said, “it’s good to stay alert.”—but he pointed them in the direction of a change of clothes and blankets, folded in a cabinet next to the couch-like seats, all coveralls and workpants and jackets. “It’s a little informal, but it is dry,” he said.

They took turns changing in the small bathroom. Mulder insisted that Scully go first, and she tried to tell him that he should go first, but he won the argument, as he usually did. She changed quickly in the tiny space, her elbows banging against the walls, and slipped out, sitting on a couch-like area near the table where Mulder had the Kraken photos laid out while he took his turn.

Cetus poked his head out from under the table, his eyes still mournful and pleading. Without thinking too hard about what she was doing, she patted the surface beside her. The dog, still fearful, scampered up to lay beside her, resting his head on her lap. He was a large, warm weight in her lap, staring up at her in that dog manner of please give me attention, and tears were welling up in her eyes before she could stop them. She shut her eyes, feeling the tears bud up warmly below her lids, and stroked Cetus’s shaggy head. She’d missed Queequeg so much in these past few weeks. It still hurt to think about. Something else to blame herself for, someone else she’d lost to stupidity. And it felt a little wrong, to be sitting here with a dog so soon after Queequeg, but she didn’t have the strength to move. She was probably the only person on this boat willing to comfort the dog.

“I’m sorry about the mutt,” someone said, and it took Scully a few moments to figure out that it was Jacob Kellerman, confirming her suspicions. She opened her eyes, wiping hurriedly at her cheeks, but Jacob wasn’t looking at her. He was still staring out into the storm, his jaw clenched irritably. “He should get off if you tell him to.”

She swiped a few more times at her eyes, and said in a voice she desperately hoped was steady, “Oh, no, no, it’s okay.” She reached down to scratch Cetus’s head again, petting him in a vigorous way that left his tail wagging wildly. “I like dogs.”

Mulder exited the bathroom, dressed in notably drier clothes. As he turned to her, a familiar expression of concern flickered across his face. "Scully? Are you okay?" he asked softly.

She nodded, looking down instinctively at Cetus's huge paws. "I'm fine," she said, her voice cracking.

She heard footsteps creaking on the floorboards, and then Mulder sliding in beside her, their knees knocking together. Almost as soon as he sat down, Cetus climbed further into Scully's lap, resting his chin on Mulder's thigh, his paws wedged awkwardly between them. "Sweet mutt," he said good-naturedly, tousling the dog's gray fur. The dog huffed happily.

Mulder gave him a few more pats before reaching out to touch Scully's hand where it lay on the dog’s back, and it was too much. She didn't think they'd touched, really touched (aside from falling asleep on him on the plane), since before the incident. She bit her lip hard and murmured, "Mulder, I told you, I'm fine."

His hand was covering hers, in a tentative sort of way, and she didn't want to look at him, but she did, and the guilt and resentment and confusion and affection enveloped her all over again. She could still remember looking into his eyes and thinking about how to kill him, and the memory made her want to throw up. She hated herself immensely. It had been just a few months, and they'd both almost killed each other, and it was too much, and too soon, and she didn't deserve his comfort or his concern, and she was still a little mad at him about Queequeg, and she just wanted things to be normal between them. He was her best friend, and she wanted things to be normal, and she didn’t want to resent him, and she was exhausted and embarrassed, and she pulled her hand out from under his and ducked her head, praying she wouldn't cry again. She wished that she could go somewhere and be alone, but out on the ocean like this, there was absolutely nowhere to go.

Cetus, still lying on top of the both of them, whined and butted his head against Mulder’s elbow. Mulder didn't try to take her hand again. For one long moment, she wished he would.

"There are things for sandwiches in the cabinets, if you're hungry," Jacob said from the front of the boat. "I, for one, am."

Scully cleared her throat and pushed a little at Cetus's side. "Go on, boy," she said gently, and Cetus went amicably, lying near the table he'd hidden under before. She turned to Mulder and offered him a small, shaky smile, but it felt inauthentic, and she looked away quickly. She went to the kitchen area and took out a stale-looking loaf of bread, and jars of peanut butter and jelly.  After a moment, Mulder came and joined her.

They made four sandwiches—Mulder made two for himself, and slathered some peanut butter messily on two pieces of bread, which he gave to the dog. They ate at the table, pushing aside the pictures and papers. Cetus chewed noisily and curled up under the table again. The rain drumming the roof above them seemed to slow gradually, until Jacob finally stood and came over to join them. “I think we have reached the calm in the storm,” he said. “We can drift for a bit.”

“One of us could take over for a while, if you need to sleep,” Scully offered. She wasn’t entirely confident in her boat driving skills after the crash at Heuvelmans Lake, but she also didn’t want to risk crashing because their host was sleep deprived.

“I’m fine.” Jacob Kellerman sloshed together a sandwich that was actually messier than Mulder’s before pulling a bottle that matched the ones Scully had pulled out of the garbage and pouring himself a glass. “Aquavit?” he asked, extending the bottle towards them. They both shook their heads. Jacob took a long swig from the bottle before sitting at the table next to Mulder. “This boat used to be much nicer,” he said. “My mother would clean it, and we’d have days out at sea in the summer, picnicking and swimming. Now my father never cleans, never brings any decent food, and fills the whole place with rotting fish. Wasting away.”

He’d referred to his father in the present tense, Scully noticed, and remembered that he’d said that his father might not be dead. She wondered idly what he thought happened to his father.

Mulder was clearly thinking the same thing. “Mr. Kellerman, you said you don’t believe in the Kraken?”

Jacob took a swig of alcohol and let out a low burp. “I do not.”

“Can I ask why?”

Jacob sighed heavily, letting his face fall forward into his hands. “My father has been obsessed,” he muttered. “Ever since we moved, he’s been obsessed. I don’t know why—maybe he was bored out here at sea, or maybe he needed something to devote time to, and my mother and I weren’t enough. But since I was a child, he’s been single mindedly obsessed with it, to the point of neglect. He only wants to talk about the Kraken, to think about the Kraken. If he reads the book, it will have the Kraken, or something like it, in it. He wasn’t afraid of it; he was fascinated by it. It was all he could talk about, all he could think about, and it only got worse as time passed. He would entertain me with bedtime stories about pirates who had bested the beast, or unfortunate sailors who had not been so lucky. I had nightmares for years.” He lifted his head and took another swig from his cup, wiping futilely at his face. “My mother was sick last year,” he added quietly. “She is better now, but for a while, it looked like she wouldn’t make it. And my father was unable to turn away from his obsession long enough to pay attention to her.”

The cabin was growing darker, and Scully couldn’t see Mulder’s face. She looked down at her hands. Richard Kellerman sounded a little like Captain Ahab, except worse; this was Ahab for no reason, Ahab without a motivation. Revenge for the loss of your leg seemed to make more sense than neglecting your family for a fruitless obsession, and she could understand Jacob’s resentment more than ever now. (She could remember vividly telling Mulder that he was like Ahab, on that rock in the lake, but she didn’t want to think of Mulder like that. He wasn’t like that, not to that degree; she didn’t think he was like that.)

“I’m sorry,” Mulder offered. His voice sounded a little unsteady. Scully wondered if he was thinking of that night on the lake, too.

Jacob shrugged angrily, taking another bite of sandwich and speaking around it. “It looks as if his obsession has finally caught up to him.”

“But you don’t believe in the Kraken,” said Scully, almost surprising herself.

His jaw was quivering, as if he was emotional, on the verge of tears. “No.” He took another gulp of drink, his eyes half-shut. “But I think he was out here looking. And whatever happened to Dad, I think it was because of his own carelessness. A lapse in attention to his duty that was instead focused towards the fucking Kraken.” His voice was full of disgust. “Maybe he thought he saw the beast, and fell overboard trying to get a glimpse. Something like that.”

Scully didn’t know what else to say—she admittedly agreed, but she didn’t want to say that to Jacob. Mulder didn’t say anything, either, and the swaying ship was nearly silent. Cetus had fallen asleep on the floor, and was snoring quietly. A clap of thunder sounded above them, so loud and deep it seemed to shake the boat a little.

“It’s strange that it’s so dark,” said Jacob suddenly. He stood and threw the remainder of his sandwich in the trash, scooped up the Aquavit and poured himself another glass. “It’s getting later in the year, closer to the midnight sun. The sun sets later and later each night. It should still be bright out.”

Mulder nudged Scully, as if to indicate that he found that meaningful. Scully offered, “It’s probably the storm.”

“Yes, but are daytime storms as dark as night time storms?” Jacob waved a hand at the window, where it was nearly pitch black. She could see the white railing of the ship, and then nothing past it.

A particularly large wave hit the side of the boat, swaying it nearly on its side, and Mulder made a small sound of discomfort. Scully’s hand immediately went to his arm, almost automatically. “Seasick?” she asked, and he nodded. “Do you have any more Dramamine?”

“Ran out,” he muttered, and she could nearly see him wincing. When had it gotten so dark in here? Places always seemed to get dark without anyone noticing. “Stupid of me not to bring more.”

“I have some,” Jacob offered. He finished his cup of Aquavit in one gulp, and turned to rummage through a drawer. “Do you also want some?” he asked, tipping his chin in Scully’s direction.

“Oh, no, thank you,” she said.

Jacob came up with something and crossed the room, handing Mulder two white, round pills and the Aquavit bottle. “To wash it down with,” he said.

“Thank you,” said Mulder, and swallowed the pills dry. Aside from the fact that they stayed sober when they were on duty—and this certainly felt like duty—they both knew it was a bad idea to drink alcohol with pills.

Jacob shrugged and took the bottle back, drinking heartily directly from it. “What about you?” He was addressing Scully now, extending the bottle to her. “Are you sure you don’t want some? On a wild night like this, some spirits might be useful. Help to ease your mind.” He thrust the bottle towards her hand, sloshing a bit on her shoes.

“No, I’m okay,” Scully said with a sigh. “Thank you, though.”

Jacob sighed, as if she had annoyed him, and took a long swig from the bottle, finishing the last of the liquid. “I should go and check the outside of the boat,” he said, burping again and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He was getting close to being drunk, if he wasn’t already there. “Make sure everything is okay. No damage. You two should get comfortable; we are in for a long night.”

“By the way, your tarp blew off the boat earlier, while we were outside,” Mulder said as Jacob stepped towards the door.

He turned towards them in confusion or in recognition; Scully wasn’t sure. “T-the tarp covering up the lifeboats?”

There was only one lifeboat, but Scully dismissed it to a mishearing, or more likely to Jacob’s drunkenness. “Yes, the one overtop of the lifeboat,” she said. “It blew overboard.” She could remember the awkwardly flapping edges, the way it bent in on itself like a large, crumpling piece of paper.

"Shit.” Jacob shook his head wildly. “I will be back,” he said, before stepping out into the stormy night. Between the door opening and closing, a harsh breeze blew in, leaving Scully shivering.

“You cold?” Mulder asked, attempting to stand up. “Jacob said there were blankets.”

“Oh, no, I’m okay, Mulder.” She put her hand on his arm to stop him. “I don’t want to get too comfortable; I don’t want to fall asleep.” The sweater she’d taken from the drawer was probably too warm as it was, but it was incredibly comfortable, despite the lingering smell of fish.

Mulder yawned loudly as he sat back down. “I’m not sure I can join you,” he said, rubbing at his eyes. “I guess the jet lag is getting to me.”

“We’re six hours ahead of home, Mulder,” said Scully. “You should be more awake, not more tired. It’s still the middle of the day to our bodies”

He shook his head hard, as if to wake himself up. “Maybe the insomnia is catching up to me.”

“Or maybe Jacob gave you the drowsy type of Dramamine.” She folded her arms over her chest. Mulder rubbed a hand over his face. “Go on to sleep if you’re tired, Mulder,” she added. “I’m not tired. I’ll keep watch.”

“N-no, you don’t have to stay up,” he said, immediately sitting up straighter. “I’m okay. I’ll stay up.”

“Okay, Mulder,” she said a little indulgently, not really believing him and not really caring. He slept so sporadically, and she was always encouraging him to try and get on a regular schedule; the least she could do was let him sleep when he was tired.

“The dog’s snoring will probably keep me up, anyway,” he added, gesturing to the place where Cetus was lying with a flick of his chin.

“You’ll be fine.” She slid down in her seat, getting comfortable.

“It’s very loud.” He was silent for a moment as he slid down a bit in her seat, his shoulder nudging against hers. She didn’t pull away. She didn’t want to pull away. She shut her eyes and felt that same bit of self-loathing rise in her throat. She didn’t know if she’d ever forget how close she came to shooting her best friend. She didn’t know if she’d ever forgive herself for having done it already.

As if he’d read her mind, he spoke sleepily from beside her, saying, “I’m sorry, Scully.”

“What?” She was startled, turning to look at him. “Sorry for what, Mulder?”

His eyes were closed as he spoke. “Sorry for… for bringing you to Norway.”

She clenched her fingers tight around her elbows. “Oh, Mulder,” she muttered. “That’s okay.”

“I keep fucking up,” he mumbled. “You didn’t want to come to Norway.”

“It’s just a case.” Or a research trip, she corrected silently.

“I almost get you killed. I-I keep almost getting you killed. I don’t pay attention, and it’s your dog, it’s your sister… it’s you.”

The words hit her in the chest like an anvil, and she felt herself tearing up. So much resentment, and yet she couldn’t really blame him. She followed him, and she kept on doing it, and she didn’t know how to do anything different. She wanted to follow him, to be with him, and it was her fault, not his, and tears were sliding down her cheeks. It wasn’t his fault, but she’d thought that at one time or another, and she’d blamed him. She had blamed him for Melissa. Blamed him for her abduction. She could remember it; the memory was hazy, but it was there. The weight of the gun in her hands. Her best friend. She wanted to apologize, but all she could get out was, “Mulder, no.”

“Thought I lost you,” he mumbled. His head lolled heavily on her shoulders, and the weight of it was such a relief.

She bit back a shaky sob, wiping her eyes and taking a deep breath, blinking so hard that her eyes hurt. Her stomach hurt. She bit her lower lip and whispered, “Mulder, I am the one who should be apologizing, okay? Not you.”

But he didn’t respond. He was already asleep.

---

Scully didn't remember falling asleep. But when she woke up, Mulder was still asleep, slumped against her, her head against his. The cabin seemed darker, somehow; someone had turned off the light. And Cetus was barking.

She blinked foggily, sitting up and rubbing at her eyes. Mulder, still dead asleep, fell back against the leather of the booth. "Hush," she murmured automatically, a reflex from Queequeg, before she remembered and winced.

Cetus did not hush. He was barking in an insistent way, a way that indicated that something was wrong.

Scully blinked a few more times, getting to her feet. She ran her hand along a wall and found a light switch, flipped it and let the dim overhead light sparkle to life. Cetus was standing at attention, turned towards the door, barking insistently. "Hey," she whispered, kneeling beside the dog and putting her hand on his head. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Cetus broke off into growls, still staring at the door. She ruffled his fur absently and scanned the cabin. Everything looked normal, if dimly lit. The boat was still rocking with a steady precision. The counter where they'd made their sandwiches was still littered with jars and dried peanut butter; a couple of the coolers on the floor had overturned, spilling fish corpses across the floor. It took Scully a few look-throughs to realize what was wrong: Jacob Kellerman wasn't in there.

Cetus snarled, scratching at the door desperately with his large paws. Behind her, Mulder said groggily, "Scully? What's going on?"

"Jacob Kellerman is missing," she said, her mind racing. Things were starting to piece themselves together, just a little bit; she wasn't sure, but she was suspicious enough. She was remembering how annoyed he’d seemed when she refused the Aquavit a second time. She got to her feet and ran first to the drawer that Jacob had gotten Mulder Dramamine from and yanked it open. There was no Dramamine—maybe he'd run out, maybe not—but there was an empty wrapper for sleeping pills. Sleeping pills. More sleeping pills, that looked like the little white pills they’d thought was Dramamine.

"What?" Mulder was asking. "Where is he?"

She rummaged for her gun instinctively before she remembered she didn't have it. It was at home, in her apartment in DC. She hadn't thought she would need it, she hadn't trusted herself to have it. Maybe she still wouldn't need it; maybe she'd misjudged him, or maybe she was wrong. Still, she said, "I think he's outside," and ran for the door, yanking it open and letting it slam behind her. She had to know for sure.

A fog had settled over the boat, so thick that Scully could barely see two feet in front of her. She stumbled forward a few feet, a little blindly, before a light became visible, rising dimly out of the thick fog. She heard the door behind her open, and Mulder call out, "Scully?"

She kept walking, following the light until she got close enough to see its source: an electric lantern, balanced on top of the bright orange lifeboat, suspended over the ocean, ready for boarding. And Jacob Kellerman, wearing a life jacket. "Jacob," she started, but stopped immediately when she felt a knife point bite lightly into her stomach.

"Don't come any closer," Jacob growled, clutching the handle of the knife. "Hold still."

Scully held up her hands slowly, an attempt to seem nonthreatening. "It's okay," she said slowly. "I don't have a weapon. Let's just stay calm, okay?"

"Scully?" Mulder stepped beside her before freezing, his eyes wide. "What's going on?" he asked in a careful, concerned voice.

"Don't move. Don't move, or I will hurt her," Jacob said in a frantic, angry voice. Mulder nodded, his eyes wide, raising his hands along with her.

"I really wish the two of you had stayed asleep," Jacob muttered, his hand clenched harder around the knife. The point ripped a bit at her shirtfront, and Scully tried not to wince, tried to keep her breathing level. (At least it was her, she thought for one wild moment, and not Mulder.) "I could be halfway gone by now."

"Why do you need to leave? Where are you going?" Mulder asked carefully. "I don't understand what's happening, Jacob."

Jacob's eyes shut, and he shook his head rapidly, like a stubborn child. Refusing to speak. So Scully took a deep breath and spoke, in the same careful manner as Mulder. "He's behind his father's disappearance, Mulder," she said steadily.

Mulder looked at her with astonishment, but Jacob winced, his face reddening, his hand shaking. "Don't say it like that," he whispered, his words slurring. "I did not mean for it to go this way. I didn't want to hurt him."

"What are you talking about?" Mulder asked, looking between them.

But Jacob wasn't listening. He opened his eyes and looked at Scully. He looked like a man being sent to his death. "How did you figure it out?" he asked softly. His hand was still shaking; she could feel the quivering knife blade against her stomach with every uneven breath.

"Little things didn't add up,” she said. She was thinking about distracting him, about giving them time to come up with a plan to get out of this. “The fact that your father's boat ended up back at the harbor despite supposedly being empty. It seemed strange that there was almost an entire roll of unused duct tape in the trash. The tarp covering your lifeboat seemed too large for just one boat, and you referred to the lifeboat like there was more than one earlier. I also saw that there were empty cables adjacent to the lifeboat. You kept offering us Aquavit in the cabin earlier, and Mulder seemed to fall asleep awfully quick after you gave him those pills. When I looked in the drawer, I found sleeping pill packets." Jacob was nodding, his chin trembling. "You… you hid on the boat, didn't you?" Scully continued. Her own hands were shaking a little, driven by the anxiety of the situation. "You subdued your father and put him onto the lifeboat, setting him adrift. You drove the boat back to shore, and snuck back to your home, and left people to discover that your father was missing. And when you brought us out as a favor to your mother, you hoped you would be able to get us drunk or asleep and abandon the boat yourself."

Jacob's chin was trembling. "I-I didn't think you would figure it out."

Mulder took a deep breath beside her. "Why did you do it, Jacob?"

"Why the hell wouldn't I do it?" he nearly shouted, his hand shaking even harder. Scully winced again as the knife nicked her, just a little, and she felt Mulder tensing beside her. She hated this constant trend they had of being held at gunpoint (or knife-point). At least this time, one of them wasn't the one holding the weapon.

Jacob was still shouting, ranting. "That bastard neglected me all my life! Made everything revolve around a fucking squid! And it didn't even stop when I grew up and moved out! I couldn't get a life of my own! My mom—his wife—gets ill, possibly fatally, and he can't even look up for long enough to take her to treatments! That responsibility goes to me! He never gave a fucking shit; he only pretended to. He would've left my mom alone to die while he was off chasing the fucking Kraken. He deserved to learn a fucking lesson." He took a step closer to Scully and the knife shifting, the sharp, long edge of the blade lying flat against her jacket.

"Jacob, calm down," Mulder said sharply, an edge to his voice. "I know you're upset, but you don't need to do this. You don't need to kill again."

"Again?" Jacob laughed wildly, shaking his head. "I didn't kill him! I wanted to punish him, but I never meant to kill him! Never! I just wanted to scare him. I thought if I set him adrift for a little while, scared him, I-I might… be able to… make him into a better man. A better husband for Mom." His eyes shut again; in the dim, foggy light, Scully thought she saw tears glittering under his eyelids. "I didn't kill him."

"Okay, Jacob," said Mulder quickly, trying to calm him. "Okay. But what's going to happen if you kill her?"

"You don't understand a goddamn thing." The knife blade wasn't quivering anymore. It was a cool, hard presence that was steady and sharp, and Scully was finding it harder to stay calm. "I lied to you, before," Jacob said, and his voice was the steadiest it had been since they'd came out here. "About the Kraken."

"What about it? What about the Kraken?" Mulder's voice was sharp, his worried eyes on Scully. The sky crackled ominously with thunder, a cold wind washing over them.

"It killed my father." Jacob's voice was equally sharp. He met Scully's eyes; his expression was somehow steely and fearful all at once. Looking at the man, Scully wondered how she didn't see that he was guilty sooner. He'd hid his tracks well, to the point where her theory seemed a little off base, but his shifting moods should've been a clue-in from the beginning: his anger, his standoffish behavior. She wondered how drunk he was. She wondered how much of his sanity was left.

"I watched my father's lifeboat floating out in the ocean, and then I saw that… thing rising out of the waves." Jacob's voice was suddenly quivering. "It was enormous. Unbelievably enormous. It rose up out of the depth, and it grabbed my father and the lifeboat all at once, and it swallowed him whole. I saw it. It was fucking real, and it happened on a day just like today."

The thunder clapped again. The skies opened up, the rain and the fog enveloping them both. The lifeboat swayed, the lantern quivering. Scully didn't know what she believed about the Kraken—she could barely think about that now—but she knew that she was scared. She was terrified that Jacob would kill them both. "Jacob…" she started in a soft voice.

"And it's coming for you now." His voice was low, warning. "I have to get out of here. I was going to leave you for it. It takes the two of you, and it will leave me alone, right?"

Scully took an unsteady breath, shivering in the rain. The boat was rocking, harder than before, and her stomach rolled unexpectedly. Inside, she could hear Cetus barking frantically. "Jacob, there is no such thing…"

"How do you know that it won't come for you?" Mulder's voice was tight, angry. "It came for your father in the lifeboat. Why wouldn't it come for you?"

Jacob was breathing raggedly. "I got away from the motherfucker once, and I can do it again," he snarled. His wrist moved, and the knife bit into Scully's stomach, just a bit, slicing the fabric. She gasped with the sting of pain—the knife hadn't penetrated the skin past a small cut, but it hurt.

That must have struck a nerve with Mulder, because he yanked out his gun in one swift motion, aiming it straight at Jacob. "Drop the knife and get the fuck away from her."

"You drop your weapon." Jacob spoke coldly, his eyes steely. "I'll kill her. I'll kill your partner if you don’t let me leave. I am getting out of here. I will not fall victim to that beast."

Cetus was snarling and whimpering, his large paws hitting the cabin door. The sea was churning around them, the boat rocking wildly, to the point where Scully was a little afraid she would fall on the knife. Her heart was pounding so hard. "Y-you really think it's coming?" she stammered in disbelief.

Before he could answer, something hit the boat. Scully could hear the hard smack of it, could hear something crack. The boat tipped, sending Scully sprawling backwards; she rolled, instinctively, and managed to miss the tumbling Jacob and his knife. She heard Mulder's panicked call: "Scully?!" and answered quickly, "I'm okay!" She fumbled across the wet deck until her hand curled around the hilt of the knife, and she pulled it to her.

But Jacob didn't seem to be looking for the knife. He pulled himself up, a grim, resigned look on his face. "It's already here," he said softly.

Something hit the boat again, harder this time, and Scully went tumbling again, letting the knife go for risk of cutting herself. She could hear it skittering across the deck as she slid haphazardly into Mulder, scrambling for purchase; he grabbed her hand and held tightly, steadying her and whispering, "You okay?"

She nodded, but her eyes were glued to the deck before her, to the wildly swinging lifeboat. She watched as the electric lantern tumbled from its perch, watched it fly through the air. Watched as its flickering light illuminated something on the other side of the rail, something massive. Something with almost scaly skin, a massive torso. One bright yellow eye.

The lantern died as it hit the deck, leaving their vision in darkness. Scully couldn't breathe. She still could feel Mulder's hand in hers.

In the darkness, she saw a large shape rise and, purposefully, fall. She heard the crunch of what sounded like the deck of the ship. She heard Jacob's panicked shout.

She heard Mulder fumbling, his hand scraping the fabric of his pocket, and she turned slightly towards him as he pulled out a penlight. He switched it on, the tiny light catching Jacob's face. He was sprawled on the deck, his face full of pain and fear. Around him, there was a large gap on the deck, as if something had smashed right through it. Scully wondered wildly how long the deck would last.

Jacob's fingers scrabbled wildly at the deck. He turned his pleading eyes towards them, and said in a quivering voice, "Please—"

Before he could finish, a tentacle so enormously large, Scully could barely believe it—a tentacle half the size of the boat itself—slammed down beside Jacob's prone body. It coiled around him like a snake as he screamed, and its massive edge slammed down mere feet away from Mulder and Scully, who scrambled back, clutching to each other's arms as they stumbled to their feet. Mulder's pen light went off in the struggle, but Scully could still see the wriggling, dark shape of Jacob Kellerman as he fought, the sharp motion of him being dragged into the ocean. It's real, she thought in one panicked moment, and she couldn't believe it.

"We have to get out of here," Mulder whispered frantically. "W-w-we have to… Scully, the lifeboat…"

Scully heard a wild, high whimper and barely even thought; she just moved, towards the door to the cabin, stumbling over splintered and broken-up boards. She yanked open the door and grabbed Cetus as he bounded out, rubbing his neck soothingly. "Shh, shh, it's okay," she whispered, gripping him gently by the scruff of his neck. She would not leave another dog to the mercy of a dangerous creature. She wouldn't. "C'mon, boy," she whispered, pulling Cetus along as she moved towards Mulder.

Mulder was trying to get to the lifeboat; he flicked his pen light back on and waved it in her direction, motioning her over. She tugged Cetus gently, stepping gingerly, but she froze in her tracks when she saw it. The monstrous tentacle rising over Mulder, directly over his head.

Her chest tightened, and she screamed, "Mulder, look out!" She let go of Cetus to dive at Mulder, shoving him hard out of the way as the tentacle slammed down. It caught her hard in the side, sent her sprawling in the mess of debris and slimy skin. She cursed instinctively; it felt like she'd cracked a rib. She tried to get to her feet, but something wrapped hard around her ankle and yanked her back down. She yelped with pain, kicking frantically at the tentacle as it tugged her backwards, towards the unforgiving ocean—or, if Mulder's stories were right, the beast's jaws. She gripped anything she could grab, the hard edges cutting into her palms, but the force was too strong, its grip crushing on her ankle. She was going to be pulled in. She wondered, briefly, if this was what Melissa felt.

"Scully!" Mulder's voice, anguished and desperate. She gripped the jagged edges of the broken rail of the boat, her heart pounding, her leg aching. She saw him standing on a patch of undisturbed deck, his gun aimed towards her. Her breath caught in her throat. For a millisecond, he was back in that hospital room, Mulder's eyes wide and teary and his finger tightening on the trigger.

And then he shot, the bullet hitting wetly behind her, and she felt relief and shame wash over her. The grip loosened, just a bit, and Scully heard an almost otherworldly shriek from down below them. She gripped the rail harder, trying to climb back up, and Mulder lunged forward, his knees cracking the weak material below him as he landed, his hands wrapping around hers. He tugged her up, fighting against the tug of the grip around her leg; she kicked out again, and felt the grip loosen slightly. Mulder's fingers tightened around.her wrists, and he pulled her up with one hard yank, scrambling backwards and tugging her with him in case the force came back. "You okay?" he gasped, his hands on the back of her shoulders, almost but not quite holding her.

She nodded, an instinctive hand to her side. "I think I cracked a rib," she said with a wince.

"C'mon." He helped her to her feet, the two of them moving towards the lifeboat, still miraculously hanging, ready to be lowered. The deck was in pieces, the cabin looking as if a tornado had torn through. Cetus sat on an unharmed piece of deck, quivering and whimpering.

A sudden, hard jerk threw them off balance, knocking them backwards onto the splintering deck. Scully felt her stomach roll as the ship began to move sharply, spinning in a circle, shaking rapidly. It felt as if it was moving downwards even as it sounds, being sucked under. "Maelstrom," Scully whispered, remembering what Helsing and Weberg had said on the dock.

Mulder helped her back to her feet, his hand curved around her elbow in support. Water sloshed over the deck, swirling black around their ankles  In a stumbling, sideways gait, they managed to get to the lifeboat. He laced his fingers together and gripped her foot, giving her a boost up, and she pulled herself onto the boat, lying sprawled briefly on the orange deck. She sat up with a pained grunt, reaching over the side for Mulder, to help him up, but he wasn't there. "Mulder?" she called in confusion, looking around desperately and finding him, moving away from the boat.

The water was still filling the crumpling deck, rising as she could feel them sinking. The water was up to Mulder's knees now. She called his name again, but he was still walking away. Her eyes jerked to follow his motion, his movements, and saw that he was headed for the dog. Cetus, halfway submerged in water, barking urgently and pleadingly. Mulder reached the dog and gripped him gently, moving him back towards the boat as the water level rose. Scully's eyes filled unintentionally with tears.

By the time Mulder reached the lifeboat, the water level had risen even further, lapping at his shoulders and nudging the lifeboat back and forth. Scully fumbled over the edge, grabbing for Cetus and pulling him over the side with effort. He whimpered, huddling in a ball against the side. Scully reached for Mulder next, and he took her hand and half-rolled over the side of the boat. He fumbled at his pocket again and came up with Jacob's knife, which he used to begin to saw at the cables holding up the boat. "Scully, can you working the steering?" he shouted over the roar of the water.

The ship was sinking into the maelstrom, but they might have just one wild chance to get out. Scully ran across the boat to the small steering wheel console, equipped to motor the boat back to shore. She prayed that the lifeboat had gas, prayed that it would somehow be enough to escape whatever the hell was trying to kill them. She tried to tell herself that Richard Kellerman had likely been restrained in that lifeboat, and wouldn't have been able to drive off anyway, that the fact that they could drive this lifeboat might give them more of a chance.

Mulder sawed at the cables quickly, severing one and running across the small deck to sever the other. Scully let her foot hover over the gas, her hands clutching the steering wheel. As soon as she felt the boat drop, she yanked the wheel hard, pulling it out of the wreckage of the larger boat and hitting the edge of the whirlpool full on. She could feel the tug of the maelstrom, but it only made her push the gas harder. The front part of the boat broke into clearer waters and she steered that way, feeling the back part go into a spin as it broke free. And then, suddenly, she felt a force slam down behind them into the ocean, a large wave pushing at the back of the boat, almost flipping it over. Scully cursed under her breath, keeping her foot plastered to the gas. She could hear Cetus whimpering. Behind her, she could hear the popping sound of Mulder firing his gun.

She looked over her shoulder, gingerly, and saw it. The thing that Mulder called the Kraken. She couldn't see the whole thing, but she could see the crest of its head, rounded with its glittering yellow eyes. Could see the dark, waving shape of an unspeakably massive tentacle, risen shadowily in the air, looming over them. Debris littered the dark, churning water around it. Jacob Kellerman was nowhere to be found.

Mulder pulled the trigger again, and he must've hit that time because Scully heard that same otherworldly shriek. Whatever it was, it was mad. The tentacle yanked back.

Scully looked away; she couldn't watch anymore. She kept her foot pressed to the gas and looked out on the horizon, foggy and pitch black.

---

The rain had stopped. Scully didn't know how much time passed before they knew they were safe, before Mulder started to comfortably move around the boat again. He came over to the spot where she was driving and touched her shoulder gently. "Are you okay?" he asked softly.

She nodded, turning slightly towards him and wincing as she did. "Fine. My ribs hurt a little, but I'll be okay until we get back to the mainland."

He nodded, his face serious. The two of them stayed silent, their eyes meeting, until he seemed to realize that he was still touching her shoulder. He took his hand away, so quickly Scully wondered if he was thinking about that moment on the boat. "Here, I'll drive for a while," he offered, tapping the dashboard with the flat of his palm.

"I'm okay, Mulder," she tried.

But he shook his head and motioned her away. "Get some rest," he said gently. "I've got this."

She nodded, only a little reluctant, and stepped aside, sitting gingerly with her back against the side of the boat, wincing as she went. Almost as soon as she'd say, Cetus was at her side, curling up beside her, warm despite his soaked fut. She draped an arm over his back, grateful for his presence. She still couldn't believe Mulder had gone back to save him. Cetus moved his wet paws to her lap and she relaxed, her hands tangled in his wildlife fur. She shut her eyes, exhausted. She could still hear Mulder, his foot on the gas, propelling the boat back to shore.

"Thanks for saving me back there," she murmured, and the memory made her face flush with shame. How the hell could she ever have thought he would shoot at her, even in an irrational split second? He'd resisted a man who could control people's actions in order not to shoot at her, and he'd been so distraught and horrified in the aftermath… the same way she had been feeling ever since her own incident. She bit her lower lip and opened her eyes to look at Mulder, his still face against the gradually lightening sky.

She looked at Mulder, and saw his hands shaking, just a little, on the wheel. "Thanks for knocking me out of the way," he said softly.

"I had to," she said immediately, without thinking. She looked down at her hands in Cetus's fur, her chipped nail polish, and added quickly, "I didn't have my gun. So I wouldn't have been able to…" She trailed off, feeling foolish. It was incredibly stupid not to bring her gun. She hadn't thought she'd need it, but look what happened. She had managed to save Mulder, but she still needed her gun. If she'd had her gun while confronting Kellerman, they might've made it out of there sooner.

"You saw through Jacob Kellerman," said Mulder. "You figured him out. If you hadn't done that, who knows what would've happened? Or if we would've made it out?"

"It was pure luck," she said quietly. "I only figured it out because of the sleeping pills."

"Still, you figured it out. I didn't."

She shrugged, her muscles tense, her hand limp on the back of Cetus. "You were right about… that thing," she said quietly, and heard Mulder chuckle amusedly. "Still, it was irresponsible for me not to bring my gun. It was an inexperienced move, and I should have known better, even if it wasn't an official case."

Mulder was quiet for a moment, the only sound the slosh of waves against the boat and the buzz of the motor. "Scully, I want you to take all the time you need… if you're not ready to work cases…"

"I am," she said quickly. "I am. It was just… difficult to have my gun on me. After everything." Her jaw locked into place, and she looked away quickly. She could still see it, her gun pointed right at him as she accused him of all of these things.

Mulder took a shaky breath. "It was… it was like that for me, after Modell," he said. "I understand."

"Yeah," she said softly. As if sensing her mood, Cetus got to his feet and licked her cheek.  

"It's been a long few months," Mulder added, his head bent forward over the wheel. "A long year. A hard year. I…" His voice cracked, trailing off. "It's been hard."

“It has been,” she agreed, her voice husky. It was easy to forget at times, but Mulder had lost his father right around the same time she’d lost Melissa. He had been on the other end of every horrible thing she had said a few weeks ago, and with Modell, he had been the one holding the gun. He was probably in as much pain as she was.

She remembered, suddenly, the conversation they’d had the night before when he was half asleep from the sleeping pills Jacob had given him. Something he’d said right before falling asleep. “Mulder,” she said softly, gingerly, “last night, you said that you thought that you lost me.”

There was a long moment of silence. When Scully looked up, she could see Mulder staring straight ahead, his jaw clenched. His hands shaking on the wheel. “Muder,” she said again, gentler this time, “did you… did you think I was going to leave, after what happened on the last case?” It was perhaps the only thing that made sense, because as far as she could tell, she had never been in danger; he had been the one to almost die, this time. She was speaking earnestly, quickly, because she needed him to know. “Mulder, I would never have… I didn’t mean those things I accused you of,” she said, because she’d told him in the hospital, but she needed to tell him again. “I don’t blame you for any of it. I hope you know that I would never willingly hurt…”

“Scully,” he was saying, holding up a hand, and then he was stopping the boat, letting it drift. He was taking his foot off the gas and turning to her, sitting down across  from her with his back against the control panel. The space was small; his feet lay on the deck next to her calves, his hands limp on his legs. His face was white. “Scully, you don’t need to apologize for any of that.”

“Mulder…”

“They thought that they found your body.” The words startled her; she froze, her fingers automatically clenching in Cetus’s fur. Mulder wouldn’t meet their eyes. “While you were missing,” he murmured. “They thought that they found your body, and they wanted me to identify it down at the morgue.”

Her chest tight, all she could manage was an uneasy, “Oh.” Mulder nodded.

The memory of thinking him dead last year was crowding her mind, in the period just before she lost Melissa, and she couldn’t imagine what he must have been feeling. Thinking she had lost him last year had been bad enough, but a part of her had believed that he was still alive. She couldn’t imagine going to the morgue to identify his body. “Mulder,” she said softly, and she leaned across the space between them and took his hand. “I’m okay. I’m still here.”

He squeezed her hand, holding it tightly. She didn’t let go. A part of her didn’t want to let go. They sat that way for a long moment, holding hands stretched over their small space.

Finally, Mulder spoke. “I’m sorry I took you to Norway.”

She smiled in spite of herself. “You said that last night.”

“I’m still sorry,” he said, but he was grinning a little, too, just slightly.

“We got out of it alive,” she said. “That’s what matters.”

“We’re still out at sea, Scully,” he pointed out, and she nudged him hard with her knee. He shrugged. “At least we got to see the Kraken.”

“We almost got killed by a giant squid,” Scully retorted. “I wouldn’t call that something to celebrate.”

“Or we survived a monster that few people actually escape. That’s worth celebrating in my book.”

“Mmm.” She slipped her fingers out of his gently, stroking the sleeping dog’s head. “It’s like you said, Mulder. The monster is just a species that hasn’t been discovered yet.”

“Too bad we didn’t get a picture of some sort.” Mulder tapped his foot against her leg. “We could’ve published an article.”

“Mulder, we’ve seen what looking for this animal does to people. Making its existence public would just send more people into a dangerous situation.” She sighed, her head falling back against the side of the boat. “Not to mention that we’re going to somehow have to explain to Norwegian law enforcement, and Mary Kellerman, what happened to Jacob Kellerman. I have a feeling the Bureau is not going to be very happy with us.”

“We have evidence on our side, even if it’s not a lot,” Mulder said. “I still have Kellerman’s knife, which hopefully still has Kellerman’s fingerprints on it. And Mary Kellerman can hopefully explain the reason she brought us here. Maybe Richard Kellerman’s friends can vouch for us, too.”

“Hmm.” Scully closed her eyes, utterly exhausted. “You’re going to explain this one to Skinner.”

He nudged her with his foot again, his leg warm against hers. “I will. I swear.”

---

They got picked up by the Norwegian coast guard a few hours later, as the sun began to rise above the horizon. Onshore, they were met by the Norwegian police investigating Richard Kellerman’s disappearance, who had apparently already talked to Mary Kellerman. They didn’t seem overly happy of Mulder and Scully’s involvement in the case, but they didn’t seem overly distrusting, either. One officer drove Scully to the hospital to have her ribs looked at, at Mulder’s repeated insistence, while Mulder gave his statement to the others.

Scully gave her own account of the night to the female officer, including her conclusion that Jacob Kellerman had been behind his father’s disappearance. The officer didn’t look surprised. “We actually suspected him as well,” she said. “He had no alibi for the night that Richard went missing, and Mary Kellerman said that she couldn’t get in touch with him.”

The part she found the most suspicious was the part about the animal attack. “You think that… a giant squid attacked you?” she asked, a little incredulously.

“It was… something,” Scully said uncomfortably. “Some hit the side of the boat. It was so dark out that it was hard to confirm anything, or really see what it was… but it destroyed the ship, and it pulled Jacob Kellerman overboard.”

She couldn’t tell if the officer believed her or not, but she let the line of questioning end and left Scully to wait for the doctor. After she was confirmed to have two cracked ribs (she winced, remembering the weight that sent her flying), and had the small cut made from Jacob’s knife cleaned bandaged, she was released, and found Mulder waiting for her downstairs. “Are you okay? How are you feeling?” he asked as he got to his feet and came to greet her. He was dressed in his own clothes now, having shed the wet, borrowed fishing clothes Scully was unfortunately still clad in.

“I’m fine. They gave me some painkillers,” she said, shrugging it off. “What happened with local law enforcement?”

Mulder shrugged. “They at least believe that Jacob Kellerman’s death was an accident,” he said. “They found traces of the sleeping pills in my system, and traces of your blood on the knife, and the Coast Guard found the wreckage of the boat. They apparently were investigating Jacob themselves, and suspected he was on the boat with his father; Mary said that they questioned her about his whereabouts.”

“You talked to Mary already?” Scully asked, sympathy immediately flooding her at the thought of Mary. She couldn’t imagine losing your husband and your son so close together like that.

Mulder nodded grimly. “She was very upset, particularly at the fact that Jacob was responsible for Richard’s death. She said she couldn’t believe he would do that.”

“It seems like everyone in her family failed her in one way or another,” said Scully, wincing. She’d write Mary a letter of apology when they got home. She at least owed her that. She was sorry they couldn’t save her son, sorry that they’d revealed that he was the one to kill his father. Despite Jacob’s denials, she knew that he’d at least taken away his ability to try to escape the beast, if not doomed him completely. “I feel horrible for her.”

“She was very shaken. A friend of hers came to pick her up, so at least she’ll have someone to stay with.”

They fell into a solemn silence as they began walking towards the door together. Mulder reached for Scully’s arm to try and support her as they walked. She sighed and let him; it was easier than arguing. “Have you talked to Skinner?” she asked.

He nodded, opening the door. “They called him, I guess to confirm that we were United States FBI agents. He vouched for us, but he’s not very happy.”

“Meaning?” She raised her eyebrows, encouraging him to get to the point.

“Meaning we might have some extra vacation days when we get back to DC.”

She sighed again, heavier this time, but she couldn’t be completely annoyed. As much as she was dying to get back into the field, she could probably use the extra time to recuperate from her latest injury, and to get in the right mindset for working in the field. Get used to having her gun again. “I should’ve known this little vacation would get me suspended,” she said, poking him in the arm. “You owe me one.”

“You can pick the next case, when we come back,” said Mulder. They were most of the way to the car; Scully’s forehead wrinkled in slight confusion when she saw that the back window was open. “Our flight’s in two hours. I went by the hotel to get our stuff; too bad we never got to stay there. It was a nice place.”

Scully nodded in agreement, remembering the sprawling view of the water. She looked down at her feet briefly and saw the gray fur still all over her borrowed pants. She remembered Cetus, then, and asked, “What happened to Cetus?” She was hoping that Mary Kellerman took him, for the company, before she remembered that Mary was allergic to dogs. She hoped that Mulder hadn’t just dumped him back at the docks.

“Oh, yeah,” Mulder said, a little sheepishly. “About that.”

They reached the car, and he motioned towards the back window. When Scully looked into, she saw Cetus sprawled across the floor of their rental car, adorned with what must’ve been a new collar and leash. When he saw her peering in, he opened his mouth wide in a goofy, canine grin and wagged his tail wildly. She smiled despite herself. “Mulder, what did you do?” she asked incredulously, opening the door and letting Cetus bound out.

“Whoa!” Mulder caught the dog by the paws before he could jump on Scully and lowered him to the ground. “I thought you might like to take him home with you,” he said tentatively, addressing her. “Mary Kellerman couldn’t take him—I asked, but she’s pretty severely allergic. And I didn’t think we should drop him back at the dock.”

“Oh, Mulder,” she muttered, not sure whether to thank him or roll her eyes at him. Cetus bumped his large head against her leg and she reached down to pet him.

“Scully, I-I know he’s not Queequeg,” Mulder offered, “and I’m not trying to replace him. We can take him back if you want. I just thought… considering everything, you might want some company.” Cetus licked her hand, and she smiled again. “And you know, this guy has already survived a cryptid attack,” he added. “Seems like good luck to me.”

“Mulder, you should quit while you’re ahead,” she told him, turning to shoot him a look. He shrugged in an apologetic manner, and she added a quiet, “Thank you,” her voice choked with gratefulness.

Cetus leaned over to lick Mulder’s hand affectionately. Mulder wiped his hand on his pants and patted the dog on the head. “At least this one actually likes me,” he said lightly, grabbing the leash and motioning Cetus in the car.

She bumped her shoulder against his, reaching in to give Cetus one last pat before she closed the door. “I suppose that is a perk.”

---

They made their flight. Mulder figured out where to take Cetus so that he could travel on the plane, and paid the extra fees for his travel. Scully tried to convince him not to, but he insisted on it. “I’ve got to be nice to you so that you’ll pick a good case when the time comes,” he teased, and she rolled her eyes.

The flight was as long as the last one, stretching into the night, and Scully decided to take sleeping pills, hoping that sleeping for the flight would help with jet lag and stave off the pain. She fell asleep before takeoff and woke up in an awkward position, bent halfway over in her seat with her head lolling against Mulder’s shoulder. He must’ve taken her seatbelt off, because she couldn’t feel it cutting into her stomach or neck.

She sat up, with effort, and stretched gingerly, her eyes and mouth fuzzy, adjusting to the dark of the cabin. The pain in her ribs wasn’t as bad as it had been this morning, which she was grateful for. She’d thought Mulder was asleep, so it was a big startling when he turned to her, his eyes wide open in the dark. “Hey,” she murmured, yawning.

“Hey,” he whispered in response. He reached down to tap on the small window next to him. “I think I saw the Kraken down there.”

She yawned again, rubbing at her eyes. He was ridiculous, she thought with absent affection. “Somehow I doubt that, Mulder. We’re thousands of miles away from Norway, and we’re very high up. And it’s dark.”

“I think I saw a tentacle or something,” he said, leaning his seat back and motioning to the window. “Look.”

She leaned over him, gingerly, and looked. She didn’t have a very good view, but she could see the sky. And far below them, the endless black waves of the sea.

“Do you see it?” Mulder whispered. His arm pressed warmly against hers, leaning towards the window so he could look, too.

“No,” she whispered back. But she didn’t move. She stayed there with him, looking out the tiny window down at the sea, watching.