#but yeah I seriously doubt that the story could be neatly wrapped up with just two books

[fromtheseventhhell]

I know it’s useless to speculate but I can’t stop wondering how the hell grrm is going to wrap all this up in only 2 books. it feels like there’s so much left to happen for so many characters, BEFORE we even reach the long night. like Arya’s story alone, she’ll prob be in Braavos a little longer, then go back to Westeros, reunite with Nymeria, the BWB, lady SH, her siblings, and THEN play a part in the LN. and after spending a solid 2 books just in the riverlands? like… how?? any ideas?

I'm right there with you anon, and I honestly think one of the reasons TWOW is taking so long is that George has realized that the story has once again gotten away from him. Even if TWOW was incredibly fast-paced, there's still a lot of story + characters to cover. Like you said, Arya alone has a lot of plot to get through before her story is set-up for the finale and it's the same with a lot of characters. I think George might be hesitant to split the books again after AFFC/ADWD, and he might be trying to find a way to make things work within one book. TWOW + ADOS are supposed to be about 3000~ pages altogether, but I doubt even that will be enough for how much story is left. If that is the issue, then I hope he overcomes it soon so we can get the rest of the story 😭

[dizzydancingdreamer]

“So that’s how you want to play this, love?" | The Mikaelson Boys

Hey My Lovelies! I hope all is well today! I received a request ages ago from @activist-af to do something like this, as you will read below. I honestly aimed to fit the movie night theme in there but it was swallowed up pretty fast! I only meant for this fic to be 3000 or so words but, as it always seems to do, it got away from me.I truly hope that you enjoy this, you've given me an unwavering amount of support these past few months while I was battling a major bout of depression and writers block. I can't repay all the kindness and love you've given me but I hope this is a start! Much love darling! And much love to all of you lovelies! Please have a fantastic evening for me! <3

Please read before continuing: I usually wouldn't write this much before my story but I wanted to add this: this story is my first full blown smut. I'm honestly not sure how well it will go over but I tried to make it as loving and healing as I could. I take my writing very seriously. I know sex for many is a touchy subject, and that truly pains me. I sincerely hope every single one of you reading this feels all the love and saftey I tried to incorporate into this peace. I wish you an eternity of love and healing. Be safe my loves!

Request: "Could u do a mikaelson boys x reader? Any plot really, but I’d very much love it if it was a bit more Kol focused. there’s just such a lack of content for all three of them and I love your writing so much. If u need any plot point ideas maybe a movie night kinda thing? I really hold him a bit higher than the other boys. Or something similar to the fic with the Klaus + Eli being injured? Fluffy ending please, smut is fantastic too 🖤"

Description: Y/n is upset that the boys won't let her come on their mission with them, feeling isolated and useless. Kol is supposed to stay behind and watch out for her however things get heated after she tells him off.

Pairing: The Mikaelson Boys x Fem!Reader, mainly Kol and Elijah

Warnings: THIS IS AN 18+ ONLY FIC!!! This is a full blown smut, I honestly do not know how it happened, probably 4000/5000 words are pure sex scenes, also there's a bit of fighting/angst at the beginning of the first scene but it doesn't last

Word count: 5343 (I'm so sorry)

Tags: ANGST, SMUT (full on), FLUFF

(Pics aren't mine but the moodboard is :) )

“I really don’t see why you guys are leaving me behind, again,” you run an agitated hand through your hair, huffing indignantly at the two boys in front of you.

Yes, boys. Not men. If they aren't going to treat you like the full grown woman you are then no way in hell are you going to give them any validation either. Even in your head.

“It’s too dangerous,” Elijah’s chocolate eyes are stern, his hands clenching at his sides, “I can’t risk the witches doing anything to you as a way to get to us. You’re too important.”

Your chest warms slightly at his words but it isn’t enough to break down your resolve. Three hundred years under your belt; they’re going to need to do better than that if they want to keep you away. There are only so many times you can stay away from a fight, only so many times you can watch them come home hurt knowing that if you had gone with them then maybe you could have prevented it. You’re a family and you’re tired of feeling like you aren’t pulling your weight.

You narrow your eyes at the tall boy, still not man, trying to peer through all the red you’re seeing, “I’m not a child, Elijah.”

He stares right back, not backing down, his face cut like marble, unwavering. Beautiful but harsh. Stone. He wears a white shirt, the first button popped and the sleeves rolled to his forearms. His veins are prominent and tempting. Elijah means business. You swallow the lump in your throat, pushing away the heat growing in your stomach.

“Love, trust me, we know you aren't a child. Any other time I would gladly rip you upstairs and prove it. Right now, though, I agree with him. You’re staying here,” Klaus’ softer voice pulls your attention from your staring match with the eldest Mikaelson.

He has a leather jacket on, the material clinging tight to his arms, ready to burst. He’s smiling but it doesn’t reach his crystal eyes. He folds his arms neatly in front of him. He’s not going to budge either.

You scoff at him, shaking your head, “I want to come, Klaus. I need to.”

A new voice joins the three of you in the foyer, “I can make that happen, darling, but you’ve got to stay home with me if you want that.”

You don't even need to turn around to hear the smirk on Kol’s voice but you do anyway, meeting the youngest Mikaelson face to face. He has a grin on his lips, one that, in any other situation, would have you weak in the knees. He has a sweatshirt on and a pair of sleep shorts. He’s on babysitting duty, he doesn’t need anything else. You only roll your eyes at him before facing Elijah once more.

“I’m part of this family, too, you know. It should be my choice,” you have to will your voice not to crack, keeping your tone as low and as steady as you can, “I’m not useless, Elijah, as much as you’d obviously disagree.”

You rub your hands over your bare arms, fending off a sudden chill. You feel like there’s ice coursing through your veins. A traitorous tear tracks down your cheek but you make no move to get it. Elijah’s hardened face softens when he notices.

“Baby, come on,” he reaches to grab you but you step back, not allowing him to touch you.

He can’t do that, make the decisions for you. Maybe if you were still human it would be called for but now it’s not. Sure, you aren't a millennium like they are but you’re not a piece of glass either. You’re strong, whether they want to acknowledge it or not.

“Don’t, Elijah,” you back away further, your cheeks drenched but your eyes fierce, “I’ll see you guys in a few days. Be safe.”

You turn and walk away, ignoring all three brothers as they call out to you, heading up to your room before any of them decide to follow you. You close the door, not slamming it but not exactly shutting it gently either. You can hear Elijah sigh from the front hall and you know he’s tugging on his hair. Klaus swears, his frustrated voice floating up to your ears. More tears fall but you brush them away angrily, lifting a pillow from your bed and screaming into it. No doubt they can hear it but, right now, you couldn't care less. The front door shuts and your heart plummets.

You sit on the edge of your bed, gripping your dark comforter tightly. Usually you like being the one they take care of. You like being held, how small they make you feel. Right now, though, it’s too much.

A soft knock draws your attention to the door, Kol’s careful voice cutting through the wood, “darling?”

“Leave me alone, Kol,” you try your best to make your words harsh but you only sound tired.

“Not likely, love,” he presses, “you know I can go all night, now it’s up to you what that means.”

Your cheeks flush and, as if he can see you through the door, he chuckles. The sound echos through your chest, stirring the remains of anger and frustration and mixing them with something hot and untamed. You pull the door open, coming face to face with the smirking Mikaelson.

“Sorry you landed with babysitting duty, Kol, but I’ve kept myself alive for three hundred years now and I’m pretty sure I can handle two more days on my own. Why don’t you go help Elijah and Klaus, yeah? Seeing as you are the only three who can actually do any good. I’m clearly not strong enough to do anything so I’ll just sit here and look pretty and do absolutely nothing at all because I’m useless. Okay?”

With that you close the door in his face. Well, you try to but he wedges his body in the way so you can’t shut him out. Whatever smile had previously been on his face is long gone and in its place sits a deep frown. His brown eyes ice over slightly and he stands taller than he did mere seconds ago. You can feel a switch in the atmosphere and suddenly you’re face to face. You honestly can’t tell which one of you is more pissed off.

“So that’s how you want to play this, love,” he pushes closer to you, “you want to get angry, yeah? Alright darling, I can do that.”

You open your mouth to protest but before any profanities can fly out his lips are on yours, fierce and strong. He uses his foot to kick the door closed, slamming it into place. It’s done merely for effect. No one is home but the two of you. He spins you around aggressively, pushing you roughly against the hardwood. His teeth sink into your bottom lip, no doubt drawing blood. As if on cue a copper taste fills your mouth, drowning your senses in red. This time, though, the anger is mixed with a wicked kind of lust.

Your hands find his hair without your permission, tugging harshly at the roots. He groans into your mouth, a sound that makes you want to slap him across the face and wrap your legs around him all the same. His hand snakes around your waist, squeezing your hip with a fervour that will no doubt leave bruises that will take longer than usual to heal. He pushes against you, every single part of him rock hard.

“God fucking damnit, Kol,” his lips find your throat with painful ease, sucking the sensitive skin into his mouth in a way thats just this side of painful over pleasurable.

Right now, though, you crave every bit of pain that Kol lays on you. In a sick way you’re proving that you can take it. That you’re strong enough to do the things that they do. Another flash of red floods your vision when you think of the other two Mikaelson's who refused to let you help. You drag one of your hands down Kol’s back, scratching hard enough for him hiss against your neck.

He jerks away from you quickly, only long enough to rip the sweatshirt over his head before he attacks your neck again. He sinks his teeth in at the same moment he rips your tank top in half, lulling you into that sweet mixture of pleasure and pain, hate and lust once more. His shoulders are deliciously toned under your searching fingers and this time when you drag your nails down his back you know you draw blood. Serves him right anyway.

“Fuck, baby,” he wraps a hand around both of your wrists, pinning your hands above your head, “that kinda hurt.”

You want to claw the smirk off of his face. Or kiss it. You can’t quite decide. His other hand is slowly sliding up your back, inching towards the clasp of your bra. His eyes burn into yours, the inferno behind them nothing less than intense. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears so loud it’s almost hypnotic when combined with the tantalizing draw of his hand. It lulls you into a false sense of security, your eyelids heavy in anticipation. He stops moving when his fingers are about to undo the hooks.

He pushes his hips closer to yours, locking you between his body and the door. His stomach is hot against yours and cut like marble. Your fingers itch to feel every bump and dip with agonizing intricacy. Every inch of your skin is alight, every hair raised waiting for anything to happen. You can feel every breath he takes as if it’s your own, your covered breasts just barely grazing him with each rise and fall of his chest. It’s delicious torture.

“Before we go any further here, I need to know what you want. Do you want some quick fuck that’s going to leave you more angry when it’s done?” He rolls his hips against yours, sending sparks flying through your body at the first real touch you’ve had tonight, “or do you want me to make love to you like you know I can. And make all these terrible feelings go away. It’s your choice, darling?”

His words tangle and knot in the pit of your stomach, weaving through the white hot hatred that had been building in your stomach until it explodes. They hit you right at the source like missiles aimed with the utmost precision to destroy every bit of anger left in you. Tears prickle at the edge of your vision, your senses overloaded from the sudden loss of your fury. All that’s left in its wake is this gut wrenching feeling of not being good enough. It’s the original problem and he just effortlessly broke through to it.

“I,” you tug your bruised lip between your teeth, if only to keep it still, “make it go away, Kol. Please.”

“That’s all I want to do, darling.”

He releases your wrists, opting instead to haul your body into his arms and slamming his lips against yours once more. You waste no time running your freed fingers down his sculpted chest, admiring the way his muscles tense as he holds you up. You push yourself as close to his body as you can get, wrapping your legs around his taught stomach and clinging on for dear life. He kisses you slowly, as if drawing all the negative energy out of your body with his lips.

He walks the two of you backwards towards your bed, sitting on the edge, leaving you straddling his hips in the most delicious way. You push your hips to bring you closer together, wanting to feel every part of him that you can. He meets every movement with his own energy, wrapping an arm around you back to keep you pressed against him. Your body is warming up once more in his arms.

He pulls his lips from yours reluctantly, his hand snaking back to the clasp on your back, “this needs to go.”

You shiver at the light touch of his fingertips on your spine, arching with the click of the hooks coming undone. He pulls the lace from your chest slowly, his thumbs grazing down your arms, memorizing every inch of skin he can get his hands on. His eyes meet yours again and he drops the fabric on the ground next to your bed. His hands, now resting on your hips, trail fire up your stomach as they trace their way over your ribs.

“Kol, please,” you wrap your arms around his shoulders, reveling in the warmth of his chest so close to your own, “I need you.”

There’s a glint in his eye again but this time you don’t want to slap him. No this time you want him to do heavenly things to every part of you. You want him to take the last remains of this awful feeling and snuff it out with his mouth. His hands finally crest the remainder of your ribcage, his thumbs teasing the underside of your breasts with tantalizingly careful circles. Tears sting your vision again from all the pent up energy inside of you.

“What shall I do, darling,” his thumbs draw along the sides of your breasts, stoking the untameable fire in the pit of your stomach once more, “tell me how you want me to touch you.”

His fingers dance closer to their target, each stroke driving your brain further into it’s Kol induced frenzy. All you can see, all you can hear, all you can smell is the boy in front of you.

“Kol,” his name falls from your lips in a desperate moan, “please just do something, god.”

He chuckles, a sound that flows like honey and wraps around every inch of you like silk. His eyes sear into your own, daring you to break his stare but you don’t. You can’t

“Well I could do this.”

His thumbs roll over your hardened nipples, as if to punctuate his words, and you see stars. You don’t even try to stop the moans that tumble from your lips, turning to clay in his hands. You give him free reign to mould your body in any way he desires, as long as hands never leave your skin. He pinches each bud between his fingers gently, pulling more praises from deep within you. His eyes never leave your face, drinking in each expression with unashamed greed.

“Or maybe I could do this.”

You know what’s coming when he leans forward, It’s quite clear what his intentions are. However, what you aren’t expecting is for the first gentle nip to send you so violently crashing over the edge that you have to squeeze your thighs around him to avoid falling off the bed. He doesn’t stop when you cry out and you don't want him to. Every swirl of his tongue around your nipple sends you spiraling further into the sweet oblivion he’s created just for you. He rocks his hips against yours while his mouth assaults you, pressing the delicious hardness against you while you fall apart.

He detaches his lips from your lips when you start to come down from your high, kissing his way up your sternum, over your collar bone, before settling on your throat.

“So beautiful darling,” he pulls your skin into his mouth as if he didn't just get enough just moments ago, “so damn beautiful.”

You press down on his hard length again, pulling a groan from deep within his chest, “I want all of you, Kol. Please.”

That's all the encouragement he needs to flip the two of you over and lay you on your back. He kneels between your legs, hooking his thumbs in your plaid sleep shorts and pulling them off much faster than he had down with your bra. He’s more than warmed up now, something that excites you to no end. You’re left laying in a pair of black lace panties that match the bra on your floor.

Kol’s eyes go dark at the sight, a growl that hardens your nipples again rumbling through the air. He leans down, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh before pulling the lace off of you once more and adding it to the growing pile of clothes. He kisses the junction of your thigh next, sending electricity rippling through your body. It restarts the heat once more and the familiar wildfire rips through your abdomen. You’re not sure if you’ll be able to stand many more orgasms if each one is to be like the first.

“Please just make love to me, Kol, I need to feel you.”

He lifts his head from your thighs, a sight that you will never grow tired of, and his eyes set ablaze, “I was made for nothing more.”

Your heart flutters rapidly in your chest, a warmth spreading like butter over your bones. He kicks his own shorts and boxers off quickly, moving back up your body to rest between your legs. You drink in the heat radiating off his body, allowing it to soothe the remaining ache leftover from your small throw down. His one hand slips under your head, lacing through your hair gently. The other reaches between you, lining himself up against your opening. The slightest touch of him against you is enough to have you mewling his name already.

He teases you slightly, taking his sweet time before pushing in. The first thrust is pure magic, filling you in the way that only Kol can. Each of you boys feel different. Kol lights every one of your nerves on fire with his slow movements. He makes you feel every deliberate movement. He makes you know that every circle of his hips, every time he joins you together is done to perfection exactly how he intends. Kol makes you aware of your entire body and just how much control he has over it.

He pulls back slowly before thrusting back inside of you hard enough to rock your bed into the wall. You clench around him without warning, pulling your name from his lips with mouthwatering ease and sending small shocks through your lower half.

“Christ, baby,” he rocks his hips deeper into yours, burying himself all the way inside you, “how are you so close again already.”

You giggle quietly from underneath him, wrapping your legs around his hips and rolling your own to meet his thrusts. Your hands glide over his shoulders, soothing the scratches you left earlier. You draw his face to your own, pulling his lips down to graze yours. You want him to feel every word you say.

“Don’t play coy, you know exactly what you’re doing,” the end of your sentence is blurred with unrelenting moans.

His hand grabs your leg, pushing your knee to your chest before pushing you into the mattress with a world altering thrust, “you’re right darling, I just like to hear you say it.”

He closes the gap between your lips with another shattering push, your walls clenching harder than before around him again. You swallow each moan that slips from his mouth and into yours. His nutmeg scent clings to you and you know it will take days to scrub him off of you, not that you want to. You could very well spend the next century wrapped up in Kol in every single way possible.

He picks up the pace, slamming into you with controlled ease. Your hands lace through his hair, keeping him as close to you as possible. Your senses are overwhelmingly heightened, allowing you to feel every damned inch of him. You’re in serious danger of falling apart. The fiery ball in your stomach is at its peak once more. When he pulls your lip between his teeth, and you taste the crimson, it explodes.

This time you don't just see stars, you see the sun and the moon and every planet in the solar system. He continues to move in and out of you, drawing out the intensity of your orgasm as he rides his own out. You cling to him with everything you have, refusing to breathe anything but Kol. Everything in this moment is about him and the way he makes you feel. Nothing else matters anymore. Perhaps nothing even mattered before. All there is, all there has ever been, is this one moment.

When you finally land back on earth, he slowly pulls out of you, giving you one last taste of electricity before drawing you to lay on his chest. Your ears ring from the energy you just exerted at Kol’s mercy, your skin deliciously sticky against his own. You're completely and undeniably spent.

You don’t realize that you’re crying until you go to speak, “Kol.”

You feel the sharp inhale he takes rather than hear it. Before you can blink the fresh wave of tears away he’s flipped you around, laying between your legs again and propped up on his elbows. His face is pure concern, his eyebrows creased together in a way that makes you want to smooth every harsh line away. It makes you cry that much harder.

“Darling, talk to me,” he runs a soothing hand down your thigh, pulling you close to him, “what’s wrong baby?”

The tears pour faster at the gentle tone in his voice, drawing an answer to the surface before you even process what you’re saying, “Do they think I’m useless? Do you?”

Your voice is shattered, all the emotions from today coming together in yet another crescendo. You can hear your blood rushing through your ears, drowning out the sounds around you. It’s probably the reason you miss the footsteps pounding up the stairs. You can feel Kol’s soft caresses but just barely. The only thing registering in your mind is the feeling of being completely and utterly weak. Why do they keep you around if you can’t even hold your own?

“God’s no, never. Not even a little bit,” just as Kol speaks, the door opens.

Well, the door slams open, hitting the wall with a crack that echoes through the large house. Kol isn’t startled. He should be but he doesn’t even flinch at the bang. You, on the other hand, tense underneath him, the pounding in your ears still as intense as before. A woodsy scent flows through the now open doorway, pine mingling with your already nutty skin. The pieces start clicking together, albeit at a slower pace than you like.

You’re almost certain you know who’s in the doorway but you look anyway to make sure, “Elijah.”

His name is a whisper and it gets lost under Elijah's own words, his dark eyes searing into yours, “Kol, do you mind giving us a moment?”

Kol glances down at you, a small smile playing on his lips. You plead with him to stay but this is Kol, he’s your hell-raiser. He places a soft kiss on your forehead before he stands, still completely naked, and walks out of the room.

He pauses on the other side of the door, settling a hand on his brother’s shoulder, “careful brother, she scratches.”

Elijah shuts the door when he leaves, much gentler than he had been when opening. Your boys, always the ones for theatrics. He leans against the frame, folding his arms over his chest. You stand from the bed, trying to meet his height but failing. You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand but it doesn’t do much to clear the droplets. He tracks your every movement with a fire raging behind his chocolate eyes. You’re painfully aware of how much of your skin is on display for him; that is, all of it.

“What,” you pause when your voice cracks, stealing a moment to compose yourself, “what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be off saving the day.”

He pushes off the door, taking a few steps towards you. You can see he's fighting back a lot of primal instincts. He's as affected by your lack of clothes as you are. His eyes shift rapidly between his usual brown and a deeper coal colour. Despite the situation, you can’t help the heat seeping from between your thighs. He stops a few feet in front of you. There’s no way he can’t smell you right now.

“I was needed elsewhere,” his eyes dip down momentarily, his jaw clenching, “by someone infinitely more important.”

You watch him squeeze his fists together, forcing his eyes to remain on yours. The determination in them is unwavering and fierce. He takes another step towards you.

“It seemed important a few hours ago,” you drop your eyes to your feet, breaking his stare.

He grabs your chin, forcing you to keep looking at him and, in turn, igniting your body, “I assure you it was not nearly as important as making sure that you’re ok.”

Your throat tightens, aching with the promise of even more tears. You wish you could just stop. You’re not afraid to cry but usually you can control it. Right now you can’t. Everything has been building, every little insecurity has pooled, and today was the chip in the damn needed to make the whole thing collapse. It’s too much.

“I’m not,” you wrap your arms tight around yourself, gripping your arms with bruising strength to try and hold back the tremors, “ I am not okay Eli. I feel so helpless. Everytime you come home bleeding and exhausted and where am I?” You run a trembling hand through your mussed hair, yanking at the roots, “Here. Always just here, useless, letting you and Klaus and Kol take it all for me. Am I really that weak? That I’m just extra collateral damage to worry about? What is it, Elijah?”

The words pour from you, each one making him flinch like he’s being hit by an invisible enemy. Every syllable is a bullet to his chest. His body tenses further, his eyes no longer holding any trace of their usual warm brown. Instead they're pitch black, the veins under his eyes a deep plum. The veins in his arms pop as well, his fists iron tight. He curses under his breath when you finish. His voice is gravelly and scrapes the deepest pit of your soul.

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again, whatever resolve he had been clinging to snaps. He pulls you towards him, wrapping his strong hands around your hips and lifting you against him, giving you a second to wrap your bare legs around his clothed hips.

“Elijah, what are you doing?” You cling to his chest, trying to avoid tumbling out of his arms when he begins walking you towards your bed once more.

He doesn't answer your question, laying you down against your ruffled comforter, “You aren’t collateral damage, baby.”

His voice is the lowest you’ve ever heard it, emanating from somewhere deep inside him. He opens the first few buttons of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head before making it even halfway down his chest. He drops it, much like he Kol had not long before, next to your bed. Kicking off his shoes, he kneels on the bed, coming to rest between your thighs. The heat emanating from you is now a furnace and it in no way goes unnoticed by him. His dark eyes swim across your naked body, drinking in every inch.

“Eli-” whatever you’re going to say is obliterated when he leans down and attaches his lips to the crook of your thigh, dangerously close to being exactly where you need him.

“You aren't weak,” he moves to your other thigh, nipping at the delicate skin and pulling unintelligible murmurs from your throat.

He kisses his way to your center, the anticipation growing like a knot in your stomach, begging to be unraveled once more. Even in the midst of falling apart you can’t get enough of these men. He lays a soft kiss against you, offering you the slightest glimpse of what you know his mouth can do. In the exact same way you had with Kol earlier, every part of you craves Elijah.

Your body arches willingly to meet the first swipe of his tongue, his name falling from your lips like a praise, “you aren't a burden to me, you beautiful creature.”

You cry out as he works his mouth expertly against you, his words humming ecstasy into your skin, melting away any trace of doubt in your mind. His arms wrap around your thighs, bringing you as close to his face as he can get you. The sight of him completely engulfed in your heat is almost enough alone to send you tumbling right there and then over the edge.

“You mean more to me than anything else on this fucking earth,” his dark eyes meet yours as he works you dangerously close to breaking before letting up once more, “and if I have to spend every hour for the next hundred years worshipping you to prove it then consider it done.”

He lowers his mouth against you harder, sucking your electrified warmth with renewed vigour. Your hands seek out his hair, tugging him against you and raising your hips to meet every pass of his tongue. The smell of pine trees and sex envelope you, brining you the closest yet to the kind of high only Elijah can draw from you. In this moment you’re nothing more than entirely his.

“I cannot lose you, baby,” he slips a few of his fingers inside you, “please let me protect you. I need to. Please.”

He curls his fingers just as the last syllable rolls off his tongue and into your core, shattering you into a million tiny pieces. Your hands fist his hair as your body clenches around his hand, pulling a delectable groan from his lips. Your third orgasm almost puts you to sleep on the spot, each of your muscles completely exhausted. Elijah watches you come undone the entire way through, nothing less than reverent awe locked on his face.

He wastes no time pulling your spent body into his arms, wrapping you as close to him as he can manage. You bury yourself against his neck, admiring how even the most unassuming parts of him have an undue amount of strength. He truly is your warrior.

“Eli,” you yawn into his chest, basking in the warmth of his skin, “I can protect myself.”

He tightens his arms around you, “I know you can, baby, but you shouldn't need to. I’ve been searching my entire life for a meaning. A thousand years of trying to be honorable. Then I found you and, all of a sudden, it all makes sense. All the searching and fighting and pain finally has a purpose: to protect you. Let me take it for you. Please.”

You’re speechless, there isn’t anything else to it. His words hit you with immense power, sinking into your skin and settling around your bones. You’re his, all of theirs, to watch over. You really didn't know he felt this strongly. You’ve always had to defend yourself. Perhaps you just aren't used to someone else being so willing to take on that task. Someone begging to take it.

He stands suddenly, with you still in his arms, and walks out of your room, starting down the hall. The faintest sound of rushing water fills your ears, lulling you into a welcome daze.

“Where are we going, Eli?” You have yet to open your eyes, stuck in the soft between being awake and falling asleep.

He kisses your forehead, resting his head on yours, “Niklaus said he wanted to take a bath, my love.”

[kickingitwithkirk]

Greetings from Austin pt. III

Pairing: Alpha!Jensen Ackles x Alpha!Jared Padalecki x Omega!OFC

Summary: Jensen and Jared are at odds over a monumental decision that changes their lives in a way they couldn’t have envisioned.  

WC: 3825

Warnings: a/b/o, bisexuality, biphobia, homophobia, angst, cursing, self doubt, depression/anxiety, married life/disagreements, medical stuff, sexual dysfunction, infertility/surrogacy

*flirting, m/m oral sex, Jensen’s insecurities are coming out, Jared gets arrested, both get counseling

A/N: This part consists of several time jumps over four month period.

A/N II: Hey, sorry took me a way longer to get done than planned, rewrote Oct 23 a dozen times alone and hoping makes sense, trying to flesh out characters more and has some stuff that plays into story line in later parts.

Part II

Masterlist

@winchesterandbeyondbingo​​​​​​ square filled-Jensen Ackles

*Series Inspired by this art.

*no beta-all mistakes are mine

September 8th

7:30 am

Jensen was sitting in the makeup chair clenching his extra strong coffee container to help warm his hands. He’d spent a second, uncomfortable night in his trailer on location as Vancouver was having an unusual cold snap this time of year and with the covid restrictions the director decided that everyone needed to stay on site.

While he wasn’t happy about the weather, missing his own personal heater but at the same time grateful for a brief break from Jared now that they were heading towards the next phase of starting their family.

Jensen jokingly said they needed a code name since they were planning on keeping their plans a secret, even from their families, until the pups were born, playfully suggesting a cartoon from their childhoods.

Of course with Jared’s weird sense of humor, he loved it and started throwing ideas like operation: pound puppies.

“Penny for your thoughts.” Frieda said as she applied a concealer under his eyes to hide the dark smudges from not sleeping well.

“Huh?”

“You asked about my new job and haven’t heard anything I’ve said, wanna talk about it?”

“Sorry, not focusing very well today.”

“Yeah, we’re all feeling out of sorts with this being the last couple days.”

Jensen couldn’t believe he was down to his last two days of filming.

“Too bad this virus messed everything up, it would’ve been a hell of a send off if everybody could have been here.”

Alex and Misha had left right after they’d finished but Jim Beaver was back for the ending. It was only right for Bobby Singer to be there at the end, having been such a pivotal character in the brothers lives.

Frieda continues chatting about random things while finishing his makeup. A PA stuck his head in calling Jensen to the set. He stepped out of the trailer and smiled seeing his Baby sitting near the building being used as the exterior of Harvelle's Roadhouse.

***

September 12th

“Jen, I’m taking out the bags,” Jared calls out seconds before the apartment's front door shut.

Jensen was doing one last check around the place for any forgotten anything. Satisfied, he walked into the living room containing neatly marked boxes ready to be shipped back to Texas, relieved they had downsized from the big house Jared had years ago.

He stopped to gaze out the picture window when a pair of strong arms wrapped around his waist, molding his back to the muscular chest of his mate, who rested his chin on his shoulder quietly saying, “I’m gonna miss this view.” Jensen hummed in agreement tipping his head back as Jared nuzzled his neck.

“We need to get going if we’re gonna make Seattle by seven,” Jared softly muttered as they’d stood there for a few heartbeats longer before releasing him. They walked to the door and Jensen turned once more to gaze out the window at the view of Vancouver.

***

September 21st

“This has been a great trip but man, I’ll be glad to be in our own bed tonight.” Jared remarks as they drive past a green highway sign saying Austin 312.

“Can’t wait,” Jensen drowsily says having not slept much the last couple days. They had decided to road trip it back to Texas, stopping at a few places they had wanted to visit for awhile.

Jared somehow managed to finagal, okay so his mind numbing blow job combined with those lethal long fingers that always makes Jensen agree to anything got him a couple extra days in southern Colorado.

Jensen enjoyed the beautiful scenery and hiking in the mountains but hated camping out. Well, it wasn’t technically roughing it the way Jared liked but still.. a frigging yurt in late September?

Oy vay, what he did for love.

The sound of Jared singing along to some classic country song on the radio as he drove finally put Jensen completely out.

***

October 23rd

Turning from the open fridge with a puzzled expression on his face, Jared senses the same vague something he’s felt God knows how many times in the last couple months.

Shutting the door he walked over to the island counter where his husband was seated pushing his unfinished dinner around on his plate.

“Jen, what’s going on? Are you worried about the implantation? Dr. Rodgers said the embryos were healthy and optimistic the surrogate took this first try.”

What Jensen wants to ask, the question that’s plagued him since that day in August choosing their Omega surrogate...how the hell does he phrase it without upsetting Jared?

“Did you choose her because you knew she’d be the one I’d pick?”

Jensen slapped his hand over his mouth, eyes wide, disbelieving he blurted it out.

Jared worked to find a response squeaking an actual squeak before he could get control over his vocals, “That’s what I’ve been sensing!” Gripping the edge of the counter with his big hands, “Are you seriously going there again? I was honest about our interactions when I realized she was the one I knocked down at the clinic and FYI, you weren’t exactly in full control either Alpha!”

Jensen clenched his teeth at being reminded his inner need to be in control at all times slipped.

“I’ve racked my brains trying to figure it out how to ask something like that without upsetting you!” Jensen yells getting up and pacing around the kitchen.

Jared huffed, “So all this time instead of talking to me, you’ve conjured up some..”

“For the last two years I’ve gotten the sense you feel somethings missing, kept telling myself it’s your unfulfilled biology. But ever since you meet that Omega you’ve been.. I can’t explain it and now I’m second guessing our marriage Ja....” his rant abruptly cut off.

Jared’s eyes were glowing red, pinning him with an eerie wolf expression, the intensity disconcerting him. “I chose you, my husband, my soulmate, my everything!“ The words should have been reassuring but Jared’s voice was pitiless, something Jensen's never heard pass from his lips before.

Jared took a deep breath and with normalcy returning said, “I love you Jensen and I thought you understood, for me, in my mind, both of us having pups with the same donor means my offspring won’t be seen as just step relations but will grow up having strong familial ties with JJ, Arrow and Zeppelin.”

Jensen started to speak when a low, reverberating growl from Jared warning him not to interrupt.

“I consciously listened to my inner wolf when it came to choosing the person who is biologically the Om of our children and I,” Jared emphasizes tapping his chest with his long index finger, ”have no regrets but apparently you do.” Taking a deep breath Jared drops a non sequitur, ”The dogs need to be fed,” and walks away.

At the sound of Jared’s SUV leaving Jensen’s legs gave out and he drops to the floor curling up in a fetal position wrapping his arms over his head. Arlo and Koda laid down, one on each side, cocooning him between them.

***

Thanksgiving

“The kids are in a tryptophan coma,” Jensen announces as he walks in through the kitchen's back door. He had followed Danneel home afterwards helping get JJ and the twins cleaned up and put to bed, “they’ll be out till Monday.”

“Good, cause I’m dead on my feet,” Jared replies yawning while loading the dishwasher. It had been their turn to host the holiday with Danneel, the kids, Clif, Jared’s siblings and their broods.

“I told you to wait and I’d help finish the cleanup when I got back.” Jensen said as Jared started the machine.

“I figured you’d wanna stay awhile and be too tired and I didn’t want to deal with it tomorrow. All that’s left is to put the trash and recycling out, could you grab it?”

“On it,” Jensen picked up the bags walking around the side of the house dropping them into their designated receptacles.

When he came back in Jared was switching off the lights downstairs. They made their way up to the bedroom taking turns in the bath getting ready for bed.

Jensen was sitting with his back against the headboard checking his messages when Jared drops heavily next to him, “I plan on sleeping for the next three days.” He mutters resting his head against Jensen’s shoulder.

“Sounds good to me babe, I’m glad we didn’t schedule anything extra this weekend, be nice to spend some time alone.” He finishes wiggling his eyebrows.

“Hmm, do you remember last year's Thanksgiving?”

Jared closed the kitchen pantries door, pushing Jensen against it seductively lowering his fox slanted eyes huskily whispering, “I’m so fucking horny I need my dick you now.”

“Dude, we’re re in my sisters...“

“..you’ll have to be quiet,” Jared dove in for a deep, dirty kiss, grinding against Jensen until he was begging to be fucked.

“You’re the one who got us busted..oh fuck Jensen..so fucking tight..fuck..not gonna last..then later I get Mac saying it sounded like your dick...”

“Okay..buuut,” Jared tilts his head slowly running his tongue up the column of Jensen’s neck, “you gotta admit,” hand slipping under his sleep shirt, “our sex life,” long fingers tip toe up the smooth, freckled chest, pads teasing his left nipple as Jared nibbles on his earlobe, ”is never boring.”

Jensen groans, dropping his arm, still clinching the phone, tipping his head to expose more of his neck to Jared’s wondrous lips, enjoying the scratch of his short beard.

“I thought you were sleeping the next three days.”

Jared answers by removing his hand and straddling his husband's thick thighs taken the phone placing it on the nightstand and starts nibbling along the other side of Jensen’s sensitive neck, working his way to his slightly raised claim mark flattening his tongue licking the ultra sensitive spot that always drives his Alpha wild.

Jensen slides his hands up Jared’s back finding a grip in his shortened hair, unhappy about how much he’s cut off for Walker, unable to tangle his thick fingers into the soft tresses like he used to.

Finding a purchase he pulls hard making Jared groan at the pleasurable sensation tips his head back till it’s the perfect angle for Jensen to run his tongue across those candy pink lips, teasing them open to grant him access, continues teasing, alternating between caressing Jared’s tongue with his and sucking on his lips.

Moaning, Jared rocks his hips seeking friction, breaks their kissing long enough to work Jensen's sleep shirt off. They end up wrestling a few moments before Jared tosses it as Jensen’s lips attack his more desperately.

Tapping Jared’s thigh, Jensen rolls them kneeling between sleep pant clad legs watching as Jared reaches up gripping the strategically placed bar in their custom made headboard with both hands, his pecs flexing in anticipation of what’s to come.

Not breaking eye contact Jensen bends forward, his lips a hair's breadth from Jared’s, slowly slides backwards hovering, caressing the acres of golden skin beneath him with only his warm breath, pausing to hook his fingers in the pants waistband and pulling them with him as he continues journeying south.

Slowly making his way back north he leaves wet, open mouth kisses along the now naked, extra long, muscular legs he loves, sucking on the insides of both thighs, nipping hard enough to leave marks before arriving at his designated stop.

He hasn’t even touched Jared’s beautiful cock yet it’s fully engorged, resting against his flat stomach vigorously leaking precome. Jensen dips his tongue into his bellybutton lapping up the liquid collecting in it, cause fuck, he’s loves how more sweet than salty Jared’s always tasted.

Hips rolling Jared rubs his cockhead against Jensen’s tongue and he kitten licks the dribbling slit before resting his head on Jared’s lower stomach and wrapping his lips around the velvety head.

Shifting his grip on the bar Jared’s makes nonsensical noises, toes curling at the mixed sensations of his mates silky beard tickling his lower regions while sucking on his cockhead, alternates swirling his tongue over the nerves underneath and teasing his slit sending spikes of pleasure radiating through him.

After all these years Jared’s still amazed at Jensen’s knowledge of his body, his ability to keep him on the edge of not enough for however long he’s in the mood to play.

“..pleease...need to cum...got to..so fucking..uhh..Alpha!”

Raising up on a forearm Jensen starts bobbing up and down his shaft, pausing briefly on each downward pass, working his throat open to take Jared further in until he’s nose deep in dark, trimmed pubic hair. Holding his mate's substantial cock in his throat swallows around him as Jared’s knot inflates, pushing his jaws apart till it’s too much.

Letting the knot slip out from between his plump lips Jensen wraps a hand firmly around it and starts vigorously bobbing drawing out a litany of obscene noises, feels Jared’s balls drawing up and backs off swallowing the warm, thick, spurting liquid.

Leisurely licking until Jared hissed, too sensitive for anymore kisses the tip one last time crawls back up the bed searching for his pillow and face plants on it.

“Dude, you’ve finally sucked out my last brain cell.”

Purring deep in his chest, Jensen gives Jared a self satisfied smirk, who mutters, “wasn’t trying to give you a bigger head.”

Rolling onto his side Jensen displays his turgid cock needing attention, “okay, he’s the bigger head,” Jared concedes reaching down running his fingers over the weeping tip, wetting them with precome spreads it over the shaft firmly fisting Jensen’s pulsing thickness, moving his hand up and down excruciatingly slowly.

“So,” his honeyed voice lowers an octave watching Jensen dissolving into a breathy mess, “how does he want me?”

Jensen opens his mouth to answer when a phone rings. Glaring over his shoulder, “not mine,” he growls. Still stroking him Jared stretches for his, “it’s the clinic..hello? Dr. Rodgers, hey, how are you sir?” He lets go sitting up against the headboard.

Why’s the doctor calling them at such an odd time, on a holiday no less?

Jared's brow wrinkles before he turns to Jensen, eyes sparkling breaks out his wondrous smile making his dimples pop.

“Jensen, she’s pregnant!”

Jared's practically bouncing on their bed like he’s on a massive sugar high discussing what comes next with the doctor. Jensen feels his erection rapidly diminishing, gets up heading into the bath and turns on the shower.

Climbing in he crosses his arms against the far wall, resting his forehead against them closing his eyes as hot water bounces across his broad shoulders.

Jensen knows he should be elated. Jared’s getting the pup (or pups) he’s desired for years and the possibility of being a father himself again. Instead, his heart seized up in conflict.

***

After that god awful argument in October he ended up at Josh’s, who confessed his mate and him were seeing a counselor because they were having marital issues too. Spending the night drinking and reflecting Jensen came home the next morning to a still angry Jared cause he didn’t know where the fuck his husband was all night.

Filling him in about his talk with Josh, Jared seemed somewhat mollified but a few nights later...

Walker star Jared Padalecki arrested near the one year anniversary of Stereotype bar altercation.

· Jared Padalecki was arrested once again in Austin, Texas, early Sunday morning on one count of public intoxication…

When he got released Jared sat Jensen down pleading with him to sit in on his next therapy session, saying they couldn’t keep going on like this, it was tearing him apart.

He wants..no..needs Jensen to completely open up, stop trying to protect him and discuss what’s going on in his head, what he’s really feeling.

Jared’s therapist started off informing both of them he wasn’t a marriage counselor but after a brief conversation with Jared knew the situation was having a detrimental impact on his mental health.

He listened to them separately, then together, about their observations and thoughts on each other’s behaviors came up with a hypothesis:

Since Jared’s last depressive episode, his random thoughts/emotions were feeding more into Jensen’s deep seated insecurities over his mate’s open, flirtatious personality and how he perceives others attraction/interactions to him.

And now Jared’s inner wolf is demonstrating an intense attraction to an Omega, something never encountered before with past preferences in Beta females, with this new dynamic Jensen didn’t know how to handle it.

Jensen opened and closed his mouth several times sputtering before saying this was complete bullshit and stormed out.

***

Lost in thought Jensen didn’t notice his husband stepping into the open shower stall until his considerable frame was blocking the water, Jared’s voice drew him out of his musings.

“I can hear you thinking clear in the other room.”

Cupped Jensen’s face between his large hands he gazed into those spring colored eyes that captured his heart the moment he looked into them years ago, “Hey, no matter what happens next, we’re good.”

***

December 16th

Jared was sitting in his chair chatting with Lindsey and Keegan while the crew was finishing setting up for the next scene when his phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number but excuses himself, stepping away for some privacy answering.

“Hey, everything okay?” Lindsay asked after he hung up, concerned by the visible tension rolling off the big Alpha.

“Umm..I don’t know, I need to make another call...” Jared said, waving the phone, “yeah, let us know if you need anything.” Keegan says and Jared nodded his thanks.

The phone rang three times, “Hey Clif, I need a favor.”

***

December 19th

Clif pulled the SUV into the parking lot, “Are you sure this is the right place?” Jared inquires looking around taking in the old motel located in a very questionable area of Austin.

“This is the name the guy mentioned.” Clif replied, getting out heading for the office. Couple minutes later he climbed back in, “the manager said the laundry out back.” He started the vehicle and drove to the rear of the property.

Clif got out again and knocked on the building's door. An older Hispanic woman answered engaging him in a brief conversation before stepping back inside.

Clif nodded to Jared and as he got out of the vehicle that piquant scent hit him seconds before the door reopened. The person he’d spent days searching for froze in the doorway upon seeing him.

***

December 22nd

Jensen, claiming out of the Uber, grabbed his bag thanking the driver, walked up the front stone pathway relieved to be home from L. A. after a hopefully final costume fitting for his new role as Soldier Boy, this flying back and forth every week for the last couple months had gotten old real quick and he was looking forward to enjoying the holidays at home.

Jared’s parents were coming tomorrow and staying for a few days as was Danneel and their pups. Josh said he was still planning on dropping by a few hours Christmas Day since he and Mac were scheduled to spend most of the holiday with their parents.

Jensen felt that mixture of anger and sadness he got thinking about his parents. He was raised in their church and though he never believed in it, respected their choice.

Too bad they couldn’t reciprocate.

***

Alan and Donna belonged to an ultra conservative church. The foundations of child rearing was to be found in the good book and in the Ackles household-spare the rod, spoil the child-was gospel.

When they were growing up neither parent was the physically or emotionally demonstrative type, only showing their offspring a reserved affection, especially in public.

The saving grace was their Beta nanny who gave them unconditional love, especially Jensen, who was shy as a child already knowing he was different from his siblings. She instilled the confidence in them to discover who they truly were inside and encouraged Jensen to come out before moving to California.

Shortly after graduating he told his family about his bisexuality and his boyfriend was moving to L.A. with him.

Alan and Donna tried to stop him. He was to go to their pastor and confess his transgressions, beg forgiveness for his sins against the church and its teachings, threatening to pull the agreed upon six month financial support while he auditioned for parts before going to college if it didn’t work out.

Jensen refused, packed up, took his boyfriend and left. He got his first break shortly after and quickly learned Hollywood didn’t care what his sexual orientation was as long as he kept it behind closed doors.

His management agency decided early on to promote Jensen as the good guy/boyfriend type. They also set him up on dates to events with many up and coming female artists of the time. He had no problem playing along when he wasn’t actually dating a woman.

His big break came on the CW. After co-starring in a couple series for the network he was offered the chance to be a lead in a new series created by Eric Kripke.

At the audition he met former Gilmore Girls heartthrob, Jared Padalecki, flashing his infectious smile, dimples for days and the most beautiful, incredible color shifting eyes Jensen’s ever seen, he was done for.

Jensen might not have his biological parents in his life anymore but his now in-laws, the complete opposite of the Ackles, helped fill that hole.

It’s easy to see where Jared’s personality comes from. His Om, Sherrie, is overly affectionate, excessively physical and verbal with everyone she considers family, biological or not.

The first time he accompanied Jared home on a holiday break Jensen was literally bowled over by the five foot nothing Omega and instantly became part of her brood.

***

Barley getting the front door open Jensen is hit with the piquant scent of orange blossoms and spices he couldn’t quite place.

Dropping his carry-on bag in the foyer he followed the scent further into the house. Arlo sat up near the large picture windows facing the backyard where he and Koda are napping and gets up coming over to greet him.

“Hey big guy, where’s daddy at?” Jensen asked rubbing around his ears like he liked having thought Jared would still be on set before the holiday break.

He heads towards the kitchen where the scent seems to be coming from, “Babe is that coffee shop back open, what’s it called, has those sweet rolls you're obsessed with..” he abruptly stopped and blinks not believing what was in front of him.

More accurately who was in front of him.

“Babe is in his office and dinner will be ready in twenty.”

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?”

***

tbc

GFA: @babypink224221 @waywardjoy​ @let-me-luve-you​ @all-4-wincest

SPN: @donnaintx​ @lyarr24

Sam/Jared @idreamofplaid​

Dean/Jensen: @flamencodiva​

[i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend]

The Art of Love (Part 7) ~ Steve Rogers x Reader College!AU

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day Weekend my loves! I’m finally getting back into this story. Hopefully I’ll be able to finish it up soon, but no promises. lol but I hope you enjoy. I wanted to get this out because this year the dates actually line up lol so here we are. 

Summary: You and Steve host his mom and Bucky for dinner. 

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader (Eventual), Bucky Barnes, Sarah Rogers 

Rating: K+

Warnings: None. Fluff . Idiots 

Word Count: 1968

Divider by: @whimsicalrogers​

Main Masterlist | The Art of Love Masterlist | Broken Hearts and Robot Parts Masterlist (Companion Fic) ​

You were unable to tear your eyes away from Steve as he tugged his shirt off and tossed it in the hamper, though you rolled your eyes when he laughed at you. It wasn’t until you heard him singing Sexyback that you huffed and turned back to the dresses.

You stared at your remaining options. You couldn’t help but smile when you came to a decision. If you were right, you knew exactly why it was his favorite. After you packed away the rest of the dresses you flopped down on the bed scrolling through your notifications.

“Did you make a decision?” Steve asked as he exited the bathroom, dressed in his jeans and white tank top but barefoot.

You gestured to the closet where the blue wrap dress hung next to his shirt.

Steve looked at it and grinned.

“My favorite.” Steve laid on his side next to you, propping his head in his hand. “We really should go back to California soon.”

You rolled on your side to mimic his position.

“I’d love that. Ooh maybe in the winter though because it’ll be nice and warm,” you giggled.

“That’s a great idea.”

You dropped your gaze from his and started tracing the pattern of his bedspread.

“What’s going through your head, sweetheart?” Steve asked as he covered your hand with his own.

“Just going over what’s left to do for tonight.”

“Everything is all set. There’s nothing left for you to do except to get ready.”

“How long do I have?”

Steve glanced at his phone.

“About an hour.”

“Okay, that’s probably enough time to make myself presentable,” you fretted.  

He cupped your cheek, focusing your attention on him.

“Sweetheart, please stop worrying. You are always beautiful.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“Nope. It’s my professional opinion. Are you doubting someone who almost has a bachelor’s in fine arts?” he demanded haughtily.

You giggled and rolled your eyes, shoving at his chest.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love me for it,” he beamed.

“That I do.”

“Why don’t you go take a shower. Take your time and relax. I even bought the candle you like.”

“Summer storm?”

“Yup.”

“You’re the best.”

You kissed him on the cheek as you climbed over him to go shower.

The shower helped calm your nerves and when the water ran cold you wrapped yourself in the fluffy towel Steve had bought just for you and padded back into the bedroom.

You kept the music on low as you got ready, fixing your hair and doing some light make up. When you were satisfied with your appearance you tugged on the dress and slid your feet into the low heels. The final touch was the silver necklace of a dancer that Steve had bought you for your first showcase.

“So how do I look?” you asked as you stood beside the TV.

“Beautiful.”

He patted the spot beside him on the couch and you happily joined him. He immediately twined his fingers through yours.

“I’m really glad that you’re here with me tonight. I love you, y/n.”

“I love you too, Steve.”

He brought your hands up so he could kiss your knuckles you couldn’t help the fond smile that tugged at your lips. Your shower and primping had taken less time than you expected so you and Steve passed the time watching the Good Place.

You were tucked neatly into Steve’s side as you waited for his mom and Bucky to arrive. As his nerves mounted yours seemed to recede and you rubbed soothing circles over his knuckles.

“Relax, Steve. It’s your mom and Bucky. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“There’s a lot to worry about. The three people I love the most are all going to be in the same place.”

“I thought you weren’t worried about me meeting your mom.”

“I’m not worried about you. I’m worried about me. The three people who have the most dirt on me in the same room. Yikes.”

You rolled your eyes.

“You know I live to lift you up. But I hope she brought baby pictures.”

“You’re awful.”

“You love me.”

“You sure about that?”

“Not a doubt in my mind.”

He pulled you closer and kissed the crown of your head.

“Good because I do. Mmm. You smell good.”

“I smell like you.” you giggled. “I forgot my shower gel.”

“Yeah but it’s your shampoo. It’s the perfect combination.”

You were interrupted by keys jangling and the door swinging open.

“Honey, I’m home.”

“Hey, Buck.”

“Hey, Smudge. Hey, Stevie.”

Neither of you moved from the couch as he hung his jacket up and walked into the kitchen.

“God it smells great in here.”

“Bucky Barnes, don’t you dare eat anything to spoil your appetite.”

“But I’m starving,” he whined.

“We’re having appetizers as soon as Steve’s mom gets here. Just wait.”

Bucky pouted into his beer as he sank into the opposite end of the couch.

“I promise it’s worth it.”

“I’m sure it is, doll”

“You’re too sweet, Buck. What did you do today?”

“I spent most of it at the hospital. A spot on their Saturday shift opened up so I took it.”

“Aw that’s great. You didn’t think you’d be able to this semester.”

“I know. I’m really glad. There’s this really sweet girl who just is amazing.”

You and Steve shared a smile at the excitement and fondness in his voice.

The three of you chatted, until your nerves got the best of you and you moved into the kitchen to triple check everything for dinner. The boys trailed behind you, but stayed out of your way.

Your eyes snapped to the door when it buzzed and you tracked Steve as he went to greet his mom. Bucky used your distraction to swipe a grape earning him a rap on the knuckles with a cheese knife.

“Hands off, Buck.”

“Aw come on, doll.”

“No more.”

Bucky pouted but kept his hands to himself as you retrieved the glasses from the cabinet.

Steve was laughing when he opened the door with the one and only Sarah Rogers trailing behind him. She smiled brightly when she spotted you and Bucky. You quickly wiped your hands on the dish towel and hurried to greet her.

“Hi, Mrs. Rogers, it’s nice to see you again.”

“It’s lovely to see you, darling. Please call me, Sarah.”

Once Steve took her coat she leaned forward to kiss you on each cheek.

“Hello, James.”

“Hey, Aunt Sarah,” he grinned around a mouthful of cheese.

“Buck!”

“Sorry, Smudge!”

Rolling your eyes you headed back into the kitchen.

“Can I get you something to drink, Ma?”

“I’ll just have some water.”

“Regular water or seltzer water.”

“Regular please, dear.”

“Sweetheart do you want anything.”

“Water please.”

You retrieved the charcuterie board fiddling slightly trying to disguise the gap Bucky’s munchies had left. He had the good grace to look apologetic when you glared in his direction.

Sarah had made herself comfortable in the arm chair and Bucky took the chair and a half across from her leaving you to sit beside Steve on the couch. He patted your knee before taking your hand as he had earlier.

“How was your Saturday? Did you work today?” Steve asked.

“No, I’m off this weekend. I went grocery shopping. Needed to stock up on a few items. It was a mad house though.”

“Really? It was quiet when we were there,” Steve hummed.

“We were there at like 6:30,” you pointed out.

“True. And it was getting crowded when we were finishing up.”

“I wonder why.”

Bucky and Sarah gaped at the two of you.

“You two really do live under a rock in that arts building don’t you?”

Sarah laughed at Bucky’s observation.

“Why? What are we missing?”

“There’s a blizzard coming tomorrow. Everyone was stocking up before the storm.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Uh huh. It’s been on every news station for a week. What have you been doing?”

“Avoiding my phone at all costs,” you admitted.

Steve shrugged his agreement. “I’ve been distracted.”

“Well, I hope you got more than just food for tonight.”

“Yeah, we’re all set,” Steve assured his mom. “We’ll just hunker down here for the next few days.”

“Absolutely. It’s not like we were planning to leave for the next couple of days anyways,” you agreed.

“Oh did you two have plans for the holiday?”

You squirmed under Sarah’s amused but expectant gaze, not wanting to give her the wrong impression.

“Tomorrow is our annual Lord of the Rings Marathon. We do it every year,” Steve explained with a grin.

“How did that come about?”

“During Freshman year, I got really sick right around Valentine’s Day. And my roommate, and pretty much everyone else I knew had gone on this ski trip that whole week. Steve was worried about me so he brought me pancakes from the dining hall and chicken noodle soup and stayed with me the whole weekend. We watched a ton of movies, but somehow Lord of the Rings became a tradition.”  

“That’s so sweet.”

“Yeah it is.”

You squeezed as his hand as he looked over at you with that soft smile you loved so much.

Steve patted his stomach and hummed as he sat back in his chair, nudging your knee with his. Bucky was wiping his bowl with the last of the rolls, and Sarah demurely wiped at her mouth.

“Dinner was absolutely delicious. I’ve got to say, Y/n, I’m impressed you’ve taught my son to cook.”

“I wouldn’t say I taught him. We more figured it out together. Poor Bucky had to taste test a lot of nearly inedible things.”

“Except her baking. That’s always been amazing,” Bucky piped up as he shoved the last roll into his mouth.  

“Speaking of, I should get the pie in the oven to warm up or we won’t have dessert until midnight,” you fretted.  

“I’ve got it, sweetheart. Just relax.”

“I’m sure the boys won’t mind cleaning up.”

You glance at Steve who nods encouragingly before hopping to his feet, squeezing your shoulders as he kissed the top of your head as he passed by. Bucky finished chewing and began to clear the dishes.

“Why don’t we move over to the couch?” she suggested.

You nodded and grabbed your glass and followed her, sitting next to the older woman.

“I’m so glad that we’re finally getting to spend some time together. Steve never stops talking about you. You’re clearly very special to him.”

You couldn’t help but look over at him, smiling as he elbowed Bucky out of the way at the sink.

“He’s very special to me too.”

“Thank you for taking care of him. I know he can get lost in his work.”

“He does the same for me.”

“I also have to say, you’re a beautiful dancer. I’m looking forward to your performance at the Showcase. It’s always been a highlight in the past.”

“Oh, thank you. I’m flattered.”

“I also saw that you and Steve were celebrating a new job last night?”

“Yes, I just joined the Howling Commando Stage Troupe as a dancer and assistant choreographer.”

“Oh that’s so exciting. Congratulations. Are you looking forward to it?”

“Yes, absolutely. They’ll send me the info for the summer series in a few weeks.”

“And how does one manage being a dancer and a choreographer at the same time.”

“The Howlies always mount two shows simultaneously, so I’ll be dancing in one show while I help choreograph the other.”

“Ah, I see. Well that is quite the undertaking, but I’m sure it will all be beautiful. You’ll have to let me know when opening night is. I would love to come and see you.”

Her earnest support caught you off guard.

“Of course,” you finally managed. “Thank you.”  

A/N: Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed ! 

Tag Lists (If your tag doesn’t work twice I’m removing it)

Update 3/15/2021: Hello, Lovelies. As some of you may have seen on the blog I have decided to suspend tag lists. If you would like to receive updates about new content please follow @naynay-writes​​ and turn on notifications. Thank you! Xoxo, Naynay

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[sisterofleatherfrog]

Star Wars Kinktober day- 1

Prompt: Symbolic jewelry

Sub! Tup x Female (AFAB) OC

Hello! Willkommen to the grand opening of me doing Kinktober (even if this post is a few hours late for the actual 1st 😅)! Here is my prompt list derived from Kinktober lists by @ink-and-flame. Their prompt lists are phenomenal, but for the sake of my ADHD I had to whittle it down into a more finite list of interests that I am comfortable writing and know at least a little about it, or else I’ll just get lost in the sauce of prompts! But seriously, go check out their lists, they’re incredibly varied and have something for everyone! 

And now without further ado:

Tags: some drinking, sub male, femdom, nudity, almost pussy eating (working up to it in part 2!), pussy worship, praise kink, worship kink (is that a thing?),  there’s no sex in this fic it’s just the lead up (she is spoicy tho)

Words: 1609

🍑🍑🍑

Under his shirt, the chain and pendant Tup wore brushed cooly against his chest. As unpleasant as the gooseflesh it raised was, the reminder it gave him was anything but. 

From the moment he’d awoke that morning, wrapped in arms as pale as the thin sunlight at that hour, he knew what he wanted and began to get ready. A few kisses pecked around his groggy girlfriend, Aurelie’s, face placated her awakening at his rising and he moved to her dressing table to grab the aforementioned necklace. If she wasn’t interested in playing, it would have been put away the night before in it’s felt case, but this morning he plucked it from it’s customary open place before the mirror. 

Catching the morning bus he felt it leap and jump with the rhythm of the air vehicle as the pilot navigated Coruscant air-traffic. After the war ended and the clones were given their freedom, sentient rights, and a hell of a lot of backpay, there were questions of what was to be done with them. As it turned out, there wasn’t such a mass exodus from the GAR as previously thought there would be, though many opted to retire from combat positions. Tup chose to oversee the supply requisition and organization for the newly formed Search & Rescue Ops, a subsidiary of the Disaster Relief Squadron, helping places around the galaxy affected by natural disasters. It felt meaningful and good, and he could honestly say he didn’t miss having to carry a gun and constantly keep an eye out for clankers.

After a day of approving supply drops, running reports, and the pendant lightly caressing his chest with every slight sway, he was back on the bus home. A man scowled at him from among the crowd; some people would never see the clones as anything more than meat-droids undeserving of even the life they were given, but the pendant mocked that man’s ideas from behind Tup’s shirt. It was a gift of love freely given to him and he was worthy,

When he returned to his apartment Aurelie was still at work, not getting off until late. As he waited for water to boil he straightened up around the place, clearing dust from the nooks it always returned to settle and gathered laundry. When he came to the bed in their room he came to a spot by the bed and stopped, considered, and opened a drawer to reveal a medium sized case which he deposited neatly on Aurelie’s side of the bed. He already had the necklace, it never hurt to be proactive in terms of their play. 

Half an hour later dinner was had and a portion of it was squared away in the fridge with a reminder to reheat it and enjoy and Tup was ready to meet a few of the boys at 79’s. As he changed from his work wear into something light blue and more casual, the afternoon sun caught the silver pendant resting on the tan skin of his breast bone, dying it almost the same shade of pink- before he could finish that thought a beep from his comm sounded informing him that his taxi had arrived outside.

20 minutes, a few levels down, and a familiar neon sign later, Tup was walking into a familiar bar. Nothing had changed about the place, only now armour and dress greys were a rare sight to be seen as the open opportunity for individuality to flourish among the clones led to some, interesting, experiments in style. ‘Speaking of which,’ thought Tup as a discordant but jovial chorus of his name called him over to a table in the corner. Fives, Jesse, Kix, Rex, Waxer, Boil, Cody, and even Wolffe, to his surprise, sat there having already gotten a small headstart on happy hour. It wasn’t a full reunion, others still at work or spread across the galaxy exploring life, but it was always nice to see familiar faces.

They took their time and paced themselves drinking, it was still early and they didn’t have to run off in an hour to prepare for a campaign and weren’t shotgunning a train of shots to try and forget one. Some of them had to be able to operate tomorrow morning though and they parted as the night lowered it’s curtain over day; Jesse and Kix remained however to scope out some of the ladies coming in with the party crowds.

As good as the times spent together were, Tup silently willed the air-taxi to carry him away faster through the legendary Coruscant traffic and back home. He’d worn the necklace, the empty place it would otherwise occupy obvious, if she hadn’t noticed then she would certainly see the familiar box he’d left resting by her pillow. Stars he was ready, the anticipation had built all day, the secret only he kept feeding his need. He was thrumming for whatever Aurelie had to give him.

The taxi stopped and he cursed the second it took for the payment to transfer, the minute in the elevator, the short march down the hall, and the door code he had to spend time punching in-

The entry was dark with the exception of a string of pink fairy lights strung along the wall and leading around the corner to their room. He grinned and, remembering to turn back and lock the door when he was already halfway across the room, soon came to the closed panel that marked their space. He knocked, “May I come in mistress?”

“Enter, darling.” A high, breathy voice answered.

As the door opened Tup entered the threshold and lowered himself to his knees, his hands finding their place on his lap as he gazed upon the shining woman perched on the edge of their bed (somehow, someway, his girlfriend, a part of his brain never ceased obsessing). She regarded him warmly, “Have you been a good boy today Tup? You took your necklace and I really hope it didn’t make you do anything naughty.”

“I was very good, mistress, just for you.” His voice was breathy and quiet, he had been good, and he anticipated his reward. His eyes drank in the milky skin that clothed the leopardess in repose before him, partially obscured by the long, wavy strands of pearly blonde hair.

“Oh I know Tup, you’re such a good boy. You wake me up with kisses, make sure I have food to eat when I work late, and you were so considerate to get our box of toys out for me. I don’t know where to begin, but good boys deserve to be rewarded, isn’t that right my beautiful boy?” 

Aurelie’s voice caressed his every synapse as he breathed in air that still held the trace of a burn from a heavy incense and he was already in a state. Her words of praise had passed straight down from his ears to his cock, bringing him to a full erection from the half mast he’d been sailing at since walking through the front door. “Yes, please mistress, yes.” If it sounded like he was begging, Tup didn’t care. Her soft thighs were resting atop one another, hiding from him what he’d been craving all day. Just one simple shift was all it would take to reveal to him where she was no doubt already soft, sweet, and wet.

Her legs uncrossed, but she stood instead of spreading wider and came to stand before him, her curl-crowned mound a tease before him that turned his need to a desperate clamour within him. He held still, eyes glued to hers as she leaned down to him and brought her pillowy lips to kiss him, one hand coming up to cradle his cheek and the other fiddles with his collar for the necklace she’d gifted him. His hands were curled hard on his lap, restraining himself from the urge to reach out and touch; being so, so good and waiting.

Drawing the pendant along the chain away from Tup’s racing heart, Aurelie held it between them and teased: “Is this what you want Tup? Do you want to eat my pussy until you’re begging for me to fuck you, until you cum in me? Or maybe I’ll ride that handsome face of yours all night and let you cum in my mouth while you’re hard at work.” Tup could only manage a tortured moan, the pictures being painted in his head making him dizzy. She lightly laughed and graciously accepted that as her answer, gently leading him across the floor as she walked backwards with the chain still in her hand, him crawling on all fours after her. When she returned to the bed she sat as he looked up at her with lust and adoration.

Still holding the pendant, she slowly drew her legs apart, raising one to rest on the bed so her pussy and the glorious pink of her vulva were wide open on display for Tup in his current position. Aurelie considered the pendant again for a moment. “I’m glad I found that artist, it’s a wonderful likeness, isn’t it darling?” From the petal-like folds of her labia minora to the majora that protected them and the unique hood that shadowed her marvelous clit, it couldn’t belong to anyone else. The highest honour Tup felt was being lucky enough to be the one person allowed to worship it. 

“Stars yes, mistress!” He agreed emphatically and Aurelie laughed lightly again and let the necklace fall back into its place from her fingers. 

“Well, come and get your reward Tup.” He gladly obliged. 

🍑🍑🍑

So yeah, Tup as a Sub wears a necklace of his girlfriend’s vulva when he really wants to be her good boy (; It also helps that it’s really pretty ✨👀✨

Also sorry if this is a little off, this wasn’t even alpha read, let alone beta read.

Aurelie is one of a few OC’s I’ve used in my daydreams, she may make another appearance in another story if I think she’ll fit! I may try and do some art too…

As for the boys at the bar, I came up with ideas for what they’re up to now and may either write other Kinktober stuff in this AU, or do some drabbles later (though I could include the Kinktober stuff in an AU drabble, right?). I didn’t include it in the story though because I felt like it would disturb the flow too much. I’ll probably detail the AU in another post if I do end up doing that.

Kinktober works so far

Masterlist

[zigsexual]

What sort of love drama takes place in your HP AU (specifically all of the juicy Maxwell/Riley drama)?

me? writing an entire fic in response to this question? putting all the brewing love drama in one single scene? yes bitch i said it !

• • •

“I don’t see why we have to waste our Hogsmede trip just because —“

“Shh!” Riley waves a hand in his face, frowning. “I’m trying to listen to what they’re saying.”

Drake sighs, taking another sip of his butterbeer. They’ve been in this booth for over an hour now, and Riley still refuses to let him leave. Says it’ll ‘look suspicious’ if she’s here by herself.

“Why will it look suspicious?” he’d asked her, but she’d only shushed him, eyes flashing with an intensity he didn’t dare cross.

He’s convinced now that they might never leave, what with Riley attentively focused on the table only a few feet away, where Penelope from Hufflepuff is gazing fondly at Maxwell. She’s leaning forward, her chin resting demurely on her hand, in direct contrast to the way Maxwell is animately telling her some story several decibels above an acceptable volume.

“Really, though,” Drake tries again, “It looks like he’s doing fine, maybe we can just meet him at Honeydukes after like we planned?”

“I have to make sure she isn’t trying to use him,” Riley says, eyes still intently focused on the other table. “He’s too nice, you know. People take advantage of that.”

“I highly doubt anyone is taking advantage of Maxwell.”

She shoots him a glare.

“What? I mean, honestly, what would anyone be using him for?”

“His connections,” Riley says. “You know how his family is.”

“Yeah, I know that they’ve essentially disowned him and there’s no way he’s getting access to any of those ‘connections.’” Drake frowns, surveying her. “Seriously, Riley, why are we here? Can you at least —“

The door to the pub swings open, letting in a gust of freezing air and a slew of Ravenclaws, led at the front by Hana Lee. It doesn’t take her long to spot the two of them, and she waves excitedly, already crossing the room even as Riley ducks her head and hisses, “Shit, she’s gonna blow our cover.”

Drake rolls his eyes at her. “What cover?” 

Hana stops just in front of their booth, pink-cheeked and smiling. She’s still got her scarf wrapped around her neck, all the way up past her chin, Prefect badge neatly affixed as always. “Hi Riley! Drake!”

She pulls off her hat, shaking out her hair, which falls down neatly around her shoulders without so much as a single flyaway. Normally, Drake would chalk it up to magic, but these sorts of things come naturally to Hana. 

Everything comes naturally to Hana.

“We’re —“ Riley starts, but Drake cuts her off: “We’re spying on Maxwell and his date.”

Riley kicks him under the table, but Hana doesn’t seem to notice. She glances over her shoulder, eyes falling on Penelope. “Oh!” She turns back, eyebrows raised. “I didn’t know they were together.”

“They’re not,” Riley says, tone a bit too harsh for her feigned indifference.

“Well, that’s sweet,” Hana smiles. “I’m glad I ran into you guys, actually. Did you know Liam’s staying for holiday this year? He just told me this week, so I promised I’d invite him to all our little traditions. Won’t that be fun?”

“Oh god,” Riley groans dramatically, “Double the Prefects? We won’t be able to get into any shenanigans.”

“There’s plenty we can do without shenanigans —“

“Yeah, plenty of boring things, like reading or studying or reading about studying —”

“You said Liam is staying?” Drake interrupts. Because there’s only one Liam. Hana’s Ravenclaw counterpart, son of the Minister of Magic.

Hana seems grateful from the reprieve from Riley’s teasing. “Yes. He hasn’t mentioned why, but from what I can imagine…”

She’s still talking, but he’s already tuned her out upon hearing the affirmation. He can tell the exact moment Riley does, too, because she suddenly turns towards him with a funny look on her face, the realization beginning to set in.

Her eyes widen, and she whispers, “Oh my god. Hot Prefect.”

“What?” Hana says.

“Nothing. Carry on.” Now it’s Drake’s turn to kick her under the table, because yes — Liam also happens to be the very same boy Maxwell and Riley have spent the better part of two years calling ‘Hot Prefect’ in a continuous effort to embarrass Drake and ultimately drive him to murder them.

(Which, really, there had only been the one time he’d actually said those words, and it was in a moment of weakness after too much stolen firewhiskey, and they truly had no business continuing to bring it up the way they did. It’s not he gives them half as much shit about anything they’ve done.)

“I should have him come say hi,” Hana stands on her tiptoes, surveying the crowded room . “Don’t tell anyone, but I think he’s a bit shy about it all, he could use a chance to get familiar with you.”

“We’d love to get familiar with him,” Riley grins, “Wouldn’t we, Drake?”

He checks to make sure Hana is sufficiently distracted before leaning in close and hissing, “I will crucio your ass, Brooks, don’t think I won’t.”

She sticks her tongue out at him. “As if. You’re like, failing Charms.”

Hana finally spots Liam amongst a group of other Ravenclaws and begins waving at him excitedly, gesturing towards the booth with a smile once she catches his attention. “Liam! Over here!”

Drake’s mouth goes completely dry at his approach.

It’s honestly unfair to just call him hot. He’s devastatingly handsome, like the protagonist of one of Savannah’s regency romance movies (which Drake has definitely not watched): cheeks flushed from the cold, hair a little windblown, dressed in a perfectly fitted navy sweater. When he reaches Hana’s side, he nods to each of them, smiling shyly, and he’s so pretty it hurts — like being hit with a bludger. A love bludger. Fuck.

“Nice to meet you,” Liam says, polite as ever. Riley returns the greeting, but Drake can only stare. 

“Hana tells us you’re joining the motley crew, then?”

“So it seems,” Liam answers. “What should I expect?”

“Hmm.” Riley glances at Drake out of the corner of her eye. “Incredibly sexy singles. Loads of hookups. Maybe an orgy or two.”

Hana laughs nervously, turning to look at Liam with wide eyes. “She’s kidding, obviously. Riley, tell Liam you’re kidding.”

Riley merely raises her eyebrows and takes a sip of her butterbeer. Hana looks mortified, but Liam only laughs, although he’s definitely a bit more flushed than he was before.

There are so few of them who stay over break; the misfits with fucked up families or no families at all. They’ve grown accustomed to each other over the years, a silent acknowledgement of their particular lot in life, and it’s rare anyone adds to the group. 

Especially someone like Liam. 

Hana’s been part of the crew since day one. Her parents aren’t dead, but they are terrible, and she always seemed to relish the chance to be away from them a few weeks more. Each year, she comes up with a new elaborate research project that requires her to stay, an excuse her parents will not only accept, but be proud of. 

“Anyway,” Riley says, finishing off her drink, “If it’s not obvious, I’m Riley. And that’s Drake.” She gestures in his direction, mischief all over her face. “He’s the keeper on Gryffindor’s team. Highly sought after, in case you didn’t know.”

God, he’s going to hex her into next Tuesday when they get back to the castle.

“Liam never goes to the Quidditch games,” Hana says. “I keep trying to convince him.”

Drake and Riley must both look horrified at this admission, because Liam rubs at his neck awkwardly upon seeing their faces. “It’s not that I don’t want to go. I’m just… busy.”

“Too busy for Quidditch?” Riley scoffs.

“Too busy for most things, really,” Liam says. “I’m afraid I’m not much fun.”

Riley leans back in her seat. “Well, we can’t have that if you’re going to be spending Christmas with us.”

“You could come to the match next Friday.” Drake blurts out, before his better judgement can stop him. “We’re playing Slytherin, so you can cheer for us.”

There’s a hint of a smile on Liam’s face. “And what if I only root for Ravenclaw?”

“Well, cheer for me — er, me and Riley — then,” Drake says, suddenly bold. Must be all the butterbeer. “We can be a neutral third party.”

Riley is kicking him under the table again, but he ignores her.

“I’ll think about it,” Liam answers, his shy smile back on his face. This time, however, it’s fully directed at Drake, and the unrelenting focus renders him completely useless.

“Cool,” he manages to reply, voice a little higher than it should be. Riley kicks him harder.

Liam runs a hand through his hair, and the gesture makes Drake’s cheeks go hot. “Maybe we could —“

Before he can say anything else, an unwelcome voice breaks into their conversation, light and airy with a hint of an untraceable (and perhaps manufactured) accent: “We’re about to order, so if either of you want food…”

The girl behind said voice pops into view between Hana and Liam, pausing when her eyes fall on the booth, only for her face to instantly break into a smile so wide it threatens to overtake her whole face. “Hi Drake.”

He avoids eye contact, even though he can feel her gaze boring into him. “…Hi Kiara.”

“And hello to you, too,” Riley quips, rolling her eyes. “Such a warm welcome, as always.”

“Are you joining us?” Kiara asks, ignoring Riley completely. “It’s a house outing, technically, but I’m sure we can make an exception.”

“Oh, no,” Hana says, “We just stopped to say hi, I’m fairly certain they were about to —“

Kiara puts her hand firmly on Hana’s shoulder, effectively shutting down her dismissal. “Again, I’m sure we can make an exception.”

It’s a blessed coincidence that, at the same moment, Penelope and Maxwell finish up and stand to leave, putting Kiara directly in Penelope’s field of vision. Upon seeing her best friend, Penelope squeals loud enough to break through the din of the pub and scurries over to fling her arms around Kiara, sending the other girl stumbling backwards.

“I didn’t know you’d be here!” Penelope says gleefully. “And you brought so many friends!”

Maxwell is close behind her, investigating as well, and his face lights up when he sees Riley and Drake. “Oh, hey! Perfect timing, I was just about to head to Honeydukes.”

He pushes past Hana and slides into the booth alongside Riley, slinging his arm around her shoulder with a grin. “You didn’t say anything about being here too. You should’ve come over and said hi, there was plenty of room.”

Riley rolls her eyes. “You were otherwise occupied.”

Kiara, who has finally put two and two together, looks at Penelope with renewed interest. “You’re here with Maxwell? You didn’t tell me you two were dating.”

“That’s because they’re not,” Riley mutters under her breath.

“We were getting drinks,” Penelope says, smiling vacantly as she often does. It’s a wonder she’s so close with a Ravenclaw; half the time Drake’s convinced there isn’t anything going on in her head. The very idea that she’s somehow capable of ‘taking advantage’ of anyone, let alone Maxwell, should be laughable.

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Kiara claps her hands together excitedly. “Maxwell, we should do a double date sometime! Wouldn’t that be fun? You, me, Pen, and Drake.”

“No,” Drake says. 

Kiara just swats at his shoulder, laughing. “You’re so funny! Isn’t he funny?”

“Well,” Hana interjects, looking decidedly uncomfortable at the new influx of people, “I suppose we should get going. The food’s probably ready.”

“It was nice to meet you both,” Liam adds, clearly taking the opportunity to bow out as well. Fucking Kiara.

“Maybe we’ll see you at the match?” Riley shoots him an expectant smile. 

It’s always hard to argue with her enthusiasm, and Liam relents a bit. “Maybe,” he answers, and then Hana is tugging him back towards the bar, Kiara and Penelope — thankfully — following in her wake.

[loyally-unfaithful]

—; i’m bad behaviour but i do it in the best way

word count: 6320

pairing: connor | rk800/gender-neutral!reader

genre: fluff; kinda crack treated seriously

summary: « as a wise man once said: “you haven’t lived until you’ve committed at least one blue collar crime” – wh-i… literally no one said that! he sputtered in bewilderment. – i just did… you said as you stomped on your cigarette. or are you calling me unwise? – yes! that’s exactly what i’m calling you! he exclaimed. you chuckled. – oh come on… live a little. it’s not even that bad. you consoled. »

the android before you was conflicted. you could tell from his yellow led, which kept flickering and spinning. the guy was seriously debating this. he’s intrigued. he wants to try it out, you just have to egg him on.

« i won’t tell if you don’t? you offered. »

you’re sure you had a harder time persuading others compared to this detective model android...

a/n: the time has come. i have inspiration. i have motivation. i managed to unblock myself. i think it’s because of stress? i couldn’t write because of stress lmfao or maybe it’s cuz of that oc x canon snippet i did idk.

both.

and uh, the story went out of hand and evolved by itself.

ping. a small popup in the top right corner of his hud caught his attention as he rearranged his folders, neatly putting them in his bag.

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[ 1 ᴺᴱᵂ ᴹᴱˢˢᴬᴳᴱ: Love ]

> hey im outside waiting for u xx Noted. <

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he quickly replied and picked up the pace, securing his beanie and wrapping his scarf. grabbing his bag, he excused himself: « see you tomorrow, lieutenant. – wait! connor! the younger man stopped in his tracks, and turned to face the lieutenant. – just… you know how i feel about [ y/n ]... the android patiently waited for him to elaborate. – if you don’t feel comfortable doing what they want you to do, just... know that you don’t have to. he instructed. and if they force you, or hu— – hank. he gently interrupted. the older man stopped his tirade, a mix of emotions on his face: surprise. concern. annoyance. mostly concern. – hank, he restarted. i’ll be fine. he reassured him. i know you don’t trust them, and i can’t force you to, but have a little faith. “in me” in that last sentence unspoken. – i… fuck, i know… but- he grumbled. just, if you don’t feel safe, call me. ok? – of course. he answered. »

before stepping out of the building, the android looked back at his father figure, « take care, see you in the morning. », he did a small wave and threw his best pacifying smile. acute scans heard the older man’s resigned sigh and the twinkle of lingering concern in his features.

once out of the building, his sensors noted the drastic drop in temperature, the warmth and ambient brightness of within was replaced by the cold and windy dullness. it was a rather chilly night, clocking in at 14 degrees celsius, wind blowing rather harshly. wrapping his coat tighter around himself, he heads for where you normally park: take a right from the precinct, a few blocks away. when he reached you, you were leaning on your motorbike, preoccupied with something on your phone, and only noticing the android through his footsteps. looking up, you smirked, and stuffed your mobile into your pocket: « glad to see that they freed you, you said, flicking a cigarette butt away. – yes… i hope i didn’t make you wait too long? he greeted back. – nah, it’s fine. »

you chucked the spare helmet you brought towards him—which he caught effortlessly—« come on, i wanna show you something. »

the ride to the destination was uneventful: it was the usual fare. you sped through the traffic, weaving through the different vehicles at a speed connor was sure was much over the speed limit (he has since given up on informing you as you seemed to ignore him, not keen on slowing down anytime soon).

this location seemed to be some distance outside of the city, as the street grew narrower and darker. the sounds of other vehicles no longer accompanying them. all he could hear was the air that you were blazing through and the humming of the motorcycle underneath you. the cold wind blew from the direction you were heading, and he could feel the rush of air against his body, a sensation that, he figured, would feel chilly and unpleasant if he could “feel” cold. still, he instinctively clung tighter to your body to preserve body heat. he watched the scenery change, sights buzzing by; the dark sky grew clearer and clearer, until a few bright stars were visible unlike back in the heart of the city.

the motorcycle slowed down to a halt, and he dismounted the vehicle. « here we are, you struck out a hand to dramatically gesture at the building. my usual haunt. »—the android squinted as he scrutinised the place, but before he could get a good look, his sight abruptly turned to black, his eyes not yet caught up with the sudden change in lighting. it was as if someone turned off the light switch, the world suddenly plunged into darkness. and apparently somebody did: you finally joined him after turning off the bike, killing the only light source. nudging him to alert him of your presence, you pulled out a flashlight from your bag and flicked it on, illuminating the area once more. you headed towards the building, and twirled to face him. « tada! my happy place, where i usually come to relax after weeks of finals. you announced pridefully. »

[ ᴬᴺᴬᴸᵞˢᴵᴺᴳ ]

he regarded the place apprehensively. to say that it was what he expected it to be would be lie: what he expected to be a warm and rustic cottage, one that exudes cosiness, turned out to be the old remains of an unfinished construction, merely the skeleton of what would be commonhold. it was dark and dreary, shadows covering the empty spaces and the walls. some of the surface were left unfinished, making the “building” perforated, cold and unfriendly. brutal, even. It was clearly dirty, not taken care of, with rubble littering the floors. he analysed the building and was concerned over its structural integrity. it didn’t seem that stable… surely you wouldn’t…?

you noticed your boyfriend’s souring impression and quickly tried to redeem the monument in his eyes: « that look on you face… you hate this... don’t you? you winced. your question caught him off guard, causing him to fumble for a recovery. – i-uh… no! it… has a unique charm. – you’re allowed to be honest, you know? you sighed. – it’s … certainly not what i had in mind, he winced. you bit your lip in a nervous smile. it’s far from prim and proper for straight laced connor, but you hope that this doesn’t end in a disastrous date. – give it a chance, let me show you up there… you’ll love it! you grinned, trying to lighten the mood. »

entering the structure almost felt like entering a different reality: the white noises of the outside world, the hooting of owls, the chirping and buzzing of insects and the howl of the wind were dampened as soon as he followed you in. it was a different realm, where shade crawled about and reigned, the silence deafening and oppressive. « mind the step. you alerted him. » the murk did not deter you one bit, and, knowing the layout of the structure by heart, you led him through different twist and turns, avoiding what he deduced would be multiple deadends. only the light of the flashlight illuminating the way. he followed you obediently, not straying too far away from you, at the risk of becoming lost in this labyrinth. he observed the environment, perturbed. the area contained so many potential hazards, and the thought that you frequented this place often distressed him slightly: though he did not doubt your ability to take care of yourself, he didn’t like the idea that you could’ve potentially hurt yourself every time you went here. he snapped out of his musing millimetres away from colliding with you and directed his attention to what you were currently preoccupied by: a ledge that led to the second floor. « hey babe… how much do you weigh? he took a few moments to answer, but you quickly rephrased. – sorry, you chuckled, that turned out more personal that i thought. can you give me a leg up? you nodded at the protruding wall. the stairs that lead to the upper floors are blocked by rubble so i’m afraid this is our only way up. »

he simply nodded, you securing your light on your belt as he put himself in position against the wall to boost you up. the climb went through easily, and you quickly turned around to pull him up after his running jump. you both quickly stood up, the android dusting himself, ridding his clothes of soot and dust, before you start your trek once more.

« i was wondering—assuming you usually frequent this place on your own—how do you get over that wall by yourself? he asked. – with great difficulty, you answered truthfully. the android rolled his eyes. – obviously, he says, in that lilt that never fails to make you chuckle. – yeah? well i hope you’re not too tired today, ‘cause we have a bit more scaling to do. don’t want you slowing me down, you teased. – as if. he scoffed. »

once on the highest floor, you led him towards an open chamber whose floor was largely intact but had a large gaping hole on one side—one that helped ventilate the room who, compared to the rest of the building, was properly aerated, the air much cleaner and safer to breathe than the musty and stale odor down below. the opening allowed the moonlight to bathe the room in a soft glow, illuminating the occupants with an ethereal white. a second source of light caught his attention: a small fire that you ignited inside a metal drum, a flame whose heat was a pleasant contrast to the cold, an ember that highlighted the place with a stark, warm, orange glow against the satellite’s smooth, cold, bluish-white light.

you sat down unceremoniously on a worn out and unfinished windowsill—resembling more like a vaguely rectangular opening—the android joining you on the opposite side. lighting a cigarette, you took a deep breath and sighed, leaning back and gazing into the sable sky decorated by a plethora of stars. the man facing you mimicked your movements and gazed at the celestial bodies, little lights twinkling in the dark, innocent and brilliant. able to take his time to view the heavens, he noted that it resembles an elysian painting, tinted an aegean blue. accompanying the sight was the rumbles of a rock song he wasn’t familiar with, probably from a rock concert a few kilometres away—making a note to find out and identify the venue. he could feel the deep thrumming of the bass and vaguely hear the melody, and though the dampened music made it slightly harder for him to pin it down, he managed to identify it: a hit song from a local indie band. he turned to face you, your form peacefully resting against the wall behind you, eyes closed; features relaxed. breathing deeply, you blew puffs of smoke with a lazy, yet content, smile.

« so? what d’you think? your eyes were directly on him now. i know you had your reservations about this place...  »

there was a small twitch in your smile, a tell he caught that told him of your nervousness. despite his previous opinion of this place, he could see why you liked it, and considered it your happy place: it was a distance away from the big city, the air pollution and the noise. it was quieter and calmer here, without any of the loud colours and chatter that never seemed to cease. the location also provided a good view of the woods around it and the elegant skies above, along with ambient music. one that certainly fit your tastes, but at a distance that didn’t make the atmosphere overbearing. it was a good place to recharge; to rest and to think, away from the cumbersome responsibilities, if only for a little while.

« i like it... it has a unique charm. he found himself repeating himself. it’s a good place to escape. – do you? as if a switch was flicked, your uncertain demeanour was replaced with a cheeky grin. i’m glad this place grew on you! you stood up and placed yourself closer to the android, sinking back on him. – i... like places like these and exploring them… just glad i didn’t bore you away. »

you sighed as you settled comfortably against his chest, his arms quickly wrapping around your waist to cradle your form in a tight embrace. he replied with a hum of approval. placing a hand on yours, he brings it up and presses a kiss on your palm. you gently caressed his cheek as he did. « i’m never bored when i get to spend time with you, my love. he says softly, earnestly. – you’re not half bad yourself, babe. you replied. »

he smacked your arm in faux disdain as you placed a kiss on his jaw, and the conversation ended after that. It was quiet, but it wasn’t an awkward silence; no, it was a comfortable one. no other words uttered. just the two of you, the crackle of the flame, your thoughts and the heavens. connor is tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand, resting his head on the top of yours—his focus switching from the galaxy above and you—while you simply relish on the warmth of his presence and hum along to the song playing in the background. though you knew he meant what he said, you notice him start to fidget and become restless. you’re never sure if it was due to the fact that he was a tireless android or if it was simply a tic of his, but he’s unable to simply sit and be. he’s already analysed all that could be analysed in this place, and you know it’s something he can’t help but do. he had a constant need to be up and about, doing something or preoccupying his mind with something.

« beautiful night, tonight, isn’t it? you started, catching his attention. there was a few moments of silence before he answered. – but certainly not as charming as you. – ha. smooth one, anderson. » the flame in the drum is dying, the heat it brought fading away: an attestation of the time that has passed. it’s been that long huh? the band has changed to a different song, though it shows no signs of finishing anytime soon. you decided it was time to put connor out of his misery and do something else.

snapping up unto your feet—startling the android slightly—you offer a hand and pulled him up: « i got an idea. and it’s probably going to sound like a terrible, inane idea… – how foolish are we talking? he asked, unfazed after going through with multiple of your “dates”; including, but not limited to, urban exploration, base jumping, and graffiti (he still doesn’t know why he agreed… he remembers you saying « rebel against the humans! ») – i mean… it’s pretty tame considering the stuff i proposed before. you shrugged. he raised a brow in suspicion. – you... might be charged with criminal trespass… you admit and he looks horrified. but! but! you continued. that’s only if you get caught! which you wouldn’t be if you’re with me! you reassured him. – what are you planning to do, exactly? – i was thinking about sneaking in the concert and just bask in the energy. head for the moshpit or something. you’re bouncing off your ideas, hoping it might interest him. have fun, enjoy the music. – i’ve researched that venue, it’s a private property! do you know the charges that’ll be pressed against you? he asked, perplexed. – duh! it’s a misdemeanour trespass, as is stated in the michigan penal code: county jail for 30 days and/or a fine. section 750.552.. you answered nonchalantly. it don’t really matter! as i said: we won’t get caught. – how are so calm about breaking these laws? he questioned, perplexed. for a law student, you seem so adamant to break them… – look, con. i’m not gonna force you to do this. i love you, and i understand that you have a reputation to uphold, being a detective and all. you assured him. i don’t want you to feel that i’m peer pressuring you into this. – i… i don’t.. you notice how his eyes shift, looking to the far left, unable to make  eye contact. you notice that he’s conflicted, that he wants to do this, but doesn’t. you sigh. – look, we can walk back to the bike while you think about it, and you can tell me your decision once we’re there. alright? »

he doesn’t answer, but you know he heard you, so you start to make your way back down, the android following you wordlessly. once down by your bike, you lean on it—rather similarly to how he met you earlier today—and nod at him: « so? what’s you’re decision? – this sounds like a bad idea… still disagreeing, but not outright denying it. you meant what you said: you don’t want to make him do what he doesn’t want to do, but a partner in crime doesn’t sound half bad. you huff. – connor anderson. the connor anderson himself, who snuck into jericho. the same one who infiltrated cyberlife tower in what seemed to be a suicide mission. is scared of a little trespassing? you teased. live a little! – i don’t see how me committing a crime would contributes to my satisfaction with life. – haven’t you heard? as a wise man once said: “you haven’t lived until you’ve committed at least one blue collar crime” – wh-i… literally no one said that! he sputtered in bewilderment. – i just did… you said as you stomped on your cigarette. or are you calling me unwise? – yes! that’s exactly what i’m calling you! he exclaimed. you chuckled. – oh come on… live a little. it’s not even that bad. you consoled. »

the android before you was conflicted. you could tell from his yellow led, which kept flickering and spinning. the guy was seriously debating this. he’s intrigued. he wants to try it out, you just have to say the right things. problem with the rk800 models: they were much too curious for their own good.

« i won’t tell if you don’t? you offered. »

you seat yourself on your bike and turn back to face him: « so, are you in? a moment of silence. the android seemed to have a renewed confidence. – as a law enforcement officer, what’s stopping me from arresting you right now? his eyes held a newfound determination. you smirked lazily. – absolutely nothing. »

he swears to god, or ra9, or whatever higher power there is, that you will be the death of him.

« get off. your ordered. he followed the command without a word. – we’re gonna walk the rest of the way. you added. »

the concert venue was now at a reasonable distance away, and it was within eyeshot. however, that also meant that everything was much louder. he could now feel the boom of the loud music, and make out the lyrics.

« so i’ve stalked this place before, and i know an entry. here’s the plan: we’re gonna immediately go to the right side. the fence that side is less guarded, since there’s a ditch that leads there; we can hide in there. however there was a drone, just one, and a cctv camera—and we also need to look out for guards—alors fais gaffe1 ok? this far along and he still seemed hesitant, so you give one final push. – too late to back out now buddy. you’ll be fine though. just follow my lead and disable that camera. – wait! you glanced back at him. once inside, what do we do? – just act natural and have fun. you grinned. » and with that, you took off, making your way to the future crime scene. he sighed, still unsure on how you managed to coerce him into this, but jogged to catch up to you.

you hopped down in the ditch, connor not too far behind, and you quickly mentioned, while pointing at a sign that said “no androids allowed”: « by the way, you might want to keep that led of yours hidden. i’ve got some bobby pins if you need ‘em. you motioned to the beanie that he was currently adjusting. »

once he seemed satisfied with his changes, you asked him if he could tamper with the camera, which he swiftly disabled. you come out of your little hiding space and start climbing up the chain link fence, telling connor to keep an eye out for the security drone currently patrolling. what you forgot to tell him was the part where you were going to take it out, catching the android off guard as you throw yourself off the top part of the fence you were clinging on onto the passing drone. your swinging and flailing, combined with your weight pulling it down, caused the contraption to crash and the android—who seemed to have snapped out of his stupor—grabbed a metal pipe lying near the barrier and proceeded to smash the machine. chucking the object to the side, he went to help you up on you feet: « are you alright? – i’m fine. you looked at the metallic junk that was once a drone. we make a pretty good team, don’t you think? he looked back at the destroyed drone. – i don’t want to keep thinking about it… – destruction of property. you clicked your tongue. i’m proud of you con. you pretended to wipe a tear off your eyes. – let’s just go. he turned away , and you follow him up the fence with a chuckle. – cheer up con. you hopped over the chain. it’s okay… you’ve done worse. »

he was about to retort, when a figure seemed to head your way, and you both managed to duck out into a corner before being discovered by the flashlight. when it was clear, you snuck out of the hiding spot and proceeded to join the masses. it was different. he’s never been to a concert before. sure, he was a fan of rock, often listening to it with hank, but experiencing it live was so very different. he knew it would be loud, deafening, but he didn’t expect the surge of excitement and vivacity. it was exhilarating, a completely different world: the bright colours, the loud ambiance, the energy of the music. the android couldn’t help, but let himself get a bit excited. he was glad he decided to come though he’d never admit it to you.

you both floated around the edge of the crowd, the venue being full. it wasn’t a particularly big place, but there were quite a lot of people there, you mused out loud. must be a pretty popular band, their song being catchy enough. at some point or another, you both cheered along with the crowd (though he was much meeker in his cries), and for some reason, decided to try and wade through the people to get closer to the front—the moshpit—this time, the android seemed to play along with your plan without complaint.

he sort of wished he had now. you don’t really know when it happened, whether it was when you rummaged through the people or during a collision while moshing, lost in the intensity of the crowd—every member in state of ecstatic delirium. the beanie came off. when he realised, he quickly hid his led, which was a disturbed yellow, and notified you. you didn’t have to hear what he said to know what was happening. you quickly led him towards the “exit”, the immediate crowd—who saw the black sheep—parting like the red sea as you crossed, but as your neared the edge of the venue security finally reached and cornered you. you quickly placed yourself besides connor, sending across a relaxed body language. you discreetly grabbed his hand, and whispered « play along » which he wouldn’t have heard if he were human.

« how may we help you sir? you asked, flashing your friendliest smile. – i’m concerned about this friend of yours… his eyes glanced at your boyfriend, but you keep your eyes on him. connor was unfazed. perhaps because he trusted your ability in getting yourselves out of this mess—awww, you’re flattered—or that his model are used to high stress environment—most likely, but you certainly hope it was also because of the former. this was a darker area of the place, so it would obscure most of your features, and the band was still playing in the background—ignorant to the revelation—which would somewhat hide your voices. – what about him? curt and indignant. – androids are not allowed in this area. he pointed to the anti-android post outside the fence. the fence that led to freedom. i’m going to have to bring him in for trespass, and you for smuggling him in. androids were recognised as their own sentient species, but laws protecting them have yet to be passed: android-free zones were still legal. most places in the city removed their anti-android signs, but people from the periphery seemed more resistant to change. fuck. – oh that old thing? the led? that don’t prove nothing. you shrugged. be cool [y/n]. it’s just a temporary tattoo. motherfucker lost a bet. you thank whatever gods above that the rk800 models could somewhat control their led colour, so that his remained blue. – is that so? he turned to connor. you seemed adamant on hiding that led of yours. the asshat must have a grudge against androids, huh? You wished he’d just kick you out. make life easier for both parties. – it’s a fake tattoo. he played along. and it’s a bad one at that—i don’t want to be associated with those plastics… he grumbled. you cackled. – well, maybe you shouldn’t have lost that bet, michael. the guard in front of you grunted, displeased. he really wanted to bring in an android huh? prove something to someone? or just pure malice? you never really paid attention in psych class. – if that’s the case, since you’re both humans, i’d like to see your ticket.  »

you went rigid. clenching your jaw you planned your next course of action. you have your phone in your pocket, but there was nothing. you could surrender it, and run away as he was distracted, but he could then trace it back to you and press charges… you could fight? the both of you could easily overpower him, outrunning him wouldn’t be a problem either. but you’ll never hear the end of it if you decided to hurt someone when you had a more pacifist option, so you chose to run. it was abrupt. you were in a standoff, one party waiting for the other to make their move. and all of the sudden you make a break for it and dash off for the fence, your partner running for it too. there was a bit of a scuffle but you managed to fend him off long enough for you to scramble up the fence. the man quickly caught up and yanked your leg—alarming you—though a well placed kick from the other freed you long enough to jump off into the other side, ready to make a dash for your life as you land.

the two of you ran until you reached your bike, which was quite a distance away (thank fuck for that, at least he won’t follow you that far—unless he’s really fucking persistent), where you collapsed on the spot and panted slightly. the android himself was looking slightly weary. heavy breathing turned into wheezing laughter as the absurdity of what just transpired settled into your mind.

« i can’t believe that actually happened! you exclaimed between laughs. – we barely got out of there! he chided. we were almost arrested! – but we weren’t. told ya’ con. should’a believed me. you tsk-ed, having calmed down from the giggles. i’m insulted to be quite honest. you exploded into another fit of laughter. – i don’t know how i managed to get you to do this with me! you howled. – never again. he stated, a finality in his tone. – oh come on, you loved it. you rolled your eyes. he stared at you in silence, unimpressed. it was true, but you’ll never hear that from him. – i hate you, he frowned. – love you too babe, you responded, running a hand through your hair. »

he sighed and let himself fall beside you. taking out your backpack once more, you rummaged through and handed him an item: an inconspicuous water bottle. when asked what it was, you answered « thirium. that’s what you guys drink right? » as you opened your own water bottle, gulping down its content. he informed you that androids don’t need to constantly replenish the thirium in his body like humans did with water—only drinking them when they have lost a significant amount—but that he appreciated the gesture. “it’s the thought that counts”.

you huffed, slightly bashful, going into a tirade about how you can’t keep up with the constantly evolving technology. « you’re starting to sound like hank now. » he chuckled and you grimaced and pretended to vomit in response, though you joined him in his laughter. you both spent time sitting there. just breathing. coming down from your adrenaline rush.

« wanna crash at my place? you offered. – i’d be more than happy to, he obliged. »

that night, you both slept like a rock. well, you did. you completely conked out. connor peacefully entered stasis as he usually did. you arrived at your flat sometime in the morning and passed out. barely managing to blearily have a “shower”—dousing yourself in water—before passing out.

come later in the morning—when the light shone softly and the white noise of the city: ambient sound of traffic, chatter, chirping of pigeons—you were sleeping peacefully when you felt someone shift beside you, rousing you slightly from your slumber. you groaned as your head gains enough coherence to remember about university and the brunt of the waking world. think you’re gonna play hooky today. maybe kenneth can take notes for you… you made a note to ask him later...

unwrapping himself from you, your partner stood up to get ready to go to work—going off to change into neater clothings that he stored in your house and getting decent—and went off to prepare a pot of coffee for you and stick bread in the toaster. feeling the sudden loss of heat as he went away, your sleep heavy mind blindly felt the portion of the bed that he usually slept on—the right—patting it, looking for the missing presence. this went on for a few minutes and your limb felt heavy as your tired body fell back asleep. you resigned to simply poke your arm from under the cover, hoping it’d catch someone. you were half asleep when the reaching hand finally found something, as it was held and gently guided to another’s cheek, yet another kiss pressed on your palm. you felt your heart melt, and hummed approvingly. « stay. you mumbled. he smiled at your naïve request. – i have to go to work. – skip work… f… ight the government… you yawned. – you know i can’t do that, my love. – i… order you... you sleep riddled mind was struggling to keep up as you slowly dozed again. to… – i’ll see you again this evening, i’ll be right back. oh yeah it’s saturday, you reminded yourself. no classes. you mentally cheered. – okk… you were going to pass out again. »

his warmth left you, and you find yourself yearning for it again. before he left, he glanced back towards you—practically buried under the duvet, only visible as a lump under the blanket and the hand poking through the right side. « i love you, [y/n] »

you were too gone to reply, but regardless, he left for work with a small smile.

work went on as usual. filling reports was boring, but it had to be done. at least he could finish them in record time, built to be more efficient at it than your typical human officer. being a detective assigned to the anti-android crimes taskforce, it was rather quiet right now, and though he was grateful that androids weren’t being harmed, it was terribly boring. though colin, who had to start all the way back at the beginning as a beat cop, seemed to be enjoying a peaceful break. he sighed for the umpteenth time as he fidgeted and fiddled with his coin, having already abused the fun out of his multiple pens and pencils. he missed spending time with you; at least it was exciting and unpredictable (getting to be with you is an enjoyable bonus). he stared blankly at his coin and sighed again. his father figure gave him a look across the desk—“did anything happen?”. he shook his head.—“no nothing bad or dangerous happened while i was with [y/n].”. the android then asked if he fancied a cup of coffee from the coffee shop across the road. the old man simply grunted.

« you can just take a walk, you don’t need to use me as a fucking excuse. – alright. he answered placidly. »

the android thought about walking to stretch his legs. maybe go to that bakery that you fancied so much. you did like the strawberry shortcake a crazy amount. but as he would find out, the slow and easy moments shouldn’t be taken for granted: a very disgruntled man, who stormed in to file a police report, happened to run in with the android, still somewhat deep in his musings. oh boy was he in for a rude awakening.

they both promptly apologise, however, once they saw each other they instantly recognised each other—though the detective kept his face neutral. « you! you’re the fucking android that trespassed into a restricted area! he accused. straight faced, he replied calmly. – i am indeed an android, but i believe you may have accused the wrong one. there often many iterations of the same model. he cursed his stars and the fates that put him in this situation. one that meant he was, as hank would put it, in deep shit. »

he was glad most people didn’t know there were only 2 rk800 currently in circulation: him and his brother, colin, whom he was trying to contact. as connor continued trying to placate the angry man, and deny his involvement in anything, he heard his brother’s voice come through.

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[ ᵂᴴᴬᵀ'ˢ ᵁᴾ? ] > [ ᵀᴴᴱᴿᴱ ᴵˢ ᴬ ᴹᴬᴺ ᴼᵁᵀ ᴴᴱᴿᴱ, ᶜᴸᴱᴬᴿᴸᵞ ᵛᴱᴿᵞ ᶜᴿᴼˢˢᴱᴰ, ᵂᴴᴼ ᵂᴼᵁᴸᴰ ᴸᴵᴷᴱ ᵀᴼ ᶠᴵᴸᴱ ᴬ ᴾᴼᴸᴵᶜᴱ ᴿᴱᴾᴼᴿᵀ. ] he decided to give him a clear picture.

[ SENDING AUDIO-VISUAL FEED TO RK800 #313 248 317-60—COLIN ] [ LINK ESTABLISHED. WAITING PERMISSION… ] [ ACCEPTED. ]

> [ ᴬ ᵀᴿᴱˢᴾᴬˢˢ ᴼᴺ ᴾᴿᴵᵛᴬᵀᴱ ᴾᴿᴼᴾᴱᴿᵀᵞ ᴮᵞ ᴬ ᴰᴱᵛᴵᴬᴺᵀ ] there was a moment of silence before his brother replied. [ ᵂᴴᴬᵀ ᵀᴴᴱ ᴴᴱᴸᴸ ᴰᴵᴰ ᵞᴼᵁ ᵀᵂᴼ ᴳᴱᵀ ᴵᴺᵀᴼ ᴸᴬˢᵀ ᴺᴵᴳᴴᵀ? ] > [ ᴵ ᴬᴾᴾᴿᴱᶜᴵᴬᵀᴱ ᴴᴼᵂ ᵞᴼᵁ ᴵᴹᴹᴱᴰᴵᴬᵀᴱᴸᵞ ᴬˢˢᵁᴹᴱᴰ ᴵᵀ ᵂᴬˢ ᵁˢ. ] connor replied, sarcastic but devoid of humour. [ ᵂᴱᴸᴸ? ᵂᴬˢ ᴵᵀ ᴿᴱᴬᴸᴸᵞ ᵞᴼᵁ ᵀᵂᴼ? ] the android, who somehow felt a migraine develop—even though that shouldn’t be possible—sighed. > [ ᴸᴼᴺᴳ ˢᵀᴼᴿᵞ ˢᴴᴼᴿᵀ, ᵂᴱ ᵀᴿᴱˢᴾᴬˢˢᴱᴰ ᴵᴺᵀᴼ ᴬᴺ ᴬᴿᴱᴬ ᵂᵂ ˢᴴᴼᵁᴸᴰ'ᵛᴱ ᴬᵛᴼᴵᴰᴱᴰ. ] > [ˢᴱᴺᴰ ᴴᴱᴸᴾ? ] [ ᵞᴼᵁ? ᶜᴼᴹᴹᴵᵀᴱᴰ ᴬ ᶜᴿᴵᴹᴱ ᴼᴺ ᵞᴼᵁᴿ ᴼᵂᴺ ᵛᴼᴸᴵᵀᴵᴼᴺ? ]

the android could hear his brother cackle at his misery. though outside of earshot, the sound echoes in his mind as the link was not yet severed.

[ ᴺᴬᴴ, ᵞᴼᵁ'ᴿᴱ ᴼᴺ ᵞᴼᵁᴿ ᴼᵂᴺ ᴼᴺ ᵀᴴᴵˢ ᴼᴺᴱ ] [ ᴳᴼᴼᴰ ᴸᵁᶜᴷ ᵀᴴᴼᵁᴳᴴ. ] [ ᴴᴬᴺᴷ'ˢ ᴳᴼᴺᴺᴬ ᴮᴱ ᴾᴵˢˢᴱᴰ ] and with that, his brother abandoned him.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the man was absolutely irate, convinced that he was the one who trespassed in the venue—he wasn’t wrong—be he kept accusing someone of the same profile as him, but named “michael”. you really did him a favour on that one. it seemed like salvation had come however, as hank intercept the confrontation—the man calmed down after seeing a human officer. his brother must’ve informed the lieutenant (connor wants to thank him, but not), knowing how the appearance of two rk800s would only aggravate the situation. through a stroke of luck, the man didn’t have enough evidence to successfully file a report—against an rk800 named “michael”... who didn’t exist.

but to say that hank was pissed was an understatement. thus begins the walk of shame as hank demanded to « talk in private ». at the end of a severe tongue-lashing, decorated with many “fuck”s and “shit”s, he was in a sour mood and positively fuming. forget the shortcake. he was absolutely going to get back at you for this.

you were snoozing peacefully, off in dreamworld, when you woke up to the buzzing of your phone. groggy, you ran you hand under the pillows and felt for the object until you found it. checking it revealed that you 27 missed calls from an unknown number and a few message from them:

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

unknown number [ two missed message ]

> what the fuck did you get connor into? > ???????

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bzz. bzz. a new message?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

unknown number [ 1 new message ]

> i know you saw the messages, fuckibg answer

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you also had a new message from connor, though his message didn’t bode well for you either:

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

connard2 anderson <3 [ 1 missed message ]

> we need to talk. > ):<

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the use of the emoji made you chuckle, but you were scared of what the future brought for you. oh boy… you were in deep shit weren’t you…

e͟p͟i͟l͟o͟g͟u͟e͟:

you lived to see another day. hank gave you an even more brutal scolding than what connor received, and you swore that if this were a shitty choice-that-matters game you’d see a metre for his friendship go down. not that there was much there in the first place.

connor gave an even more punishing sanction: he gave you the absolute silent treatment for a month. no talking, no hugs nor cuddles, and only the odd texts once in a blue moon. an absolutely miserable 31 days for you, spent by sulking. safe to say this was a punishment you’ll never forget, and one that will discourage you from ever trying that kind of stunt ever again.

or at least when connor’s around. it’s free game when it’s just you by yourself. connor knows this and simply sighs in resignation and just hopes you don’t get yourself in potentially future career ruining situation...

f͟o͟o͟t͟n͟o͟t͟e͟s

1. french expression that i was too lazy to translate, essentially means “watch out/stay alert”,,, somewhere along those lines, but informal. 2. connard is a french word pronounced almost like connor, but it means shithead. reader i have a strange sense of humour.

like my work? consider buying me a coffee // checking out my masterlist | links can be found on my desc

[irrelevantwriter]

Daddy Isn’t In Charge

Pairing: Negan x Female Reader/You

Rating: Explicit, NSFW

Warnings: Language, daddy kink (majorly), oral sex (female receiving), dry humping, unprotected vaginal sex, Negan being submissive (bc why not?)

Word Count: 2.8K

Summary: Negan upsets you and now he has to get back into your good graces.

A/N: This is a request fulfillment for the lovely @pirateking289​! Thank you for being so patient! I loved the concept and I had a lot of fun writing it, despite my untimely writer’s block lol. This is based off a very memorable scene from the movie “Wolf of Wallstreet”. I’ll add the gif into the story to give a visual. I hope I did it justice. Enjoy and share with your friends!

*Masterlist in bio.

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

You smiled softly as you fingered the wide grins plastered along the picture in your hand. The image was of you and Negan on your wedding day, the smiles you both wore a testament to just how special the day had been. Despite your current frustration at your husband, your heart beat faster at the sight of his attractive face. You cursed his enchanting abilities, even in photographic form.

You thought back on that day seven years ago and your whole body started to tingle. Negan was your soulmate, your clichéd other half. You were meant to be from the start. It might not have been a fairytale story, there were definite bumps in the road, but you’d have it no other way. But from your current spot on the floor in your spacious walk-in closet, you were cursing the man you’d entered into matrimony with.

The night before had been your annual Christmas party. The holiday was a favorite of yours and the party was a staple amongst your social circle. It had become a party described by many as “the event of the season”. You always went all out and Negan encouraged you. He knew how much it meant to you, which is why he always made an effort to put work aside and be there in support.

That did not happen last night.

The night had been running smoothly. The drinks were being poured, the food was being eaten. The music was echoing off the well-decorated walls. Your expansive home was quickly becoming filled with guests. It was perfect.

Until Negan received a call on his cell phone.

You knew he’d have to go. You knew there was no amount of begging or pouting you could do. Negan ran his own company. He was constantly busy, which had become a point of contention as of late. The man worked 364 days a year. He was a workhorse. And while that was admirable, you were ready to start having more of your husband to yourself. You’d expressed that sentiment to him recently and he’d made a conscious effort to try, but this night was not a night you felt like being forgiving.

“Doll?”

You were pulled from your thoughts by your husband’s voice calling you. Before you could reply, his figure appeared in the doorway. He was all black leather and denim. His hair was slicked back, his facial hair neatly trimmed. He was grinning at you, dark eyes managing to entrap you from across the room.

He looked devastatingly handsome.

Son of a bitch.

“Why’re you sitting on the floor?” He eyed your bare legs stretched out in front of you, the hem of your dress sitting high on your thighs.

You probably did look odd sitting in your closet in full dress and heels. You’d been getting ready to head out for lunch with the ladies when you’d taken a detour. You’d spotted the trinket box you kept near your shoes and decided to go through it, memories washing over you like rain. You’d been so wrapped up in them that you hadn’t even heard Negan come home.

“Can’t I sit on the floor in my closet?” You countered somewhat rudely. You’d barely seen him all morning, but you’d been sure to make your mood noticeable when you did cross paths. Negan caught on, but had yet to comment.

“You can do whatever the fuck you’d like in your closet, my dear.” He goaded, that intoxicating smirk now adorning his lips.

“So sweet of you to give me permission.” The defiance was alive and well, and you could tell Negan was enjoying it far too much.

He chuckled, rubbing at his beard growth. “You’re still mad about last night?”

You moved the photos back into their box and set it aside, freeing up your lap. You crossed your arms, staring up at him with your own wicked smile.

“Oh no, I’m not mad. Not anymore at least.”

“You’re not?”

“Nope.” You popped the “P” for emphasis.

He started to move closer into the room, brow raised in doubt. “Well, you still seem pissed.”

You decided to stay silent, see if Negan dug his own grave. He would no doubt. You knew the man better than he knew himself.

“You need Daddy to make it up to you?” He said lowly, eyes bright with that predatory gaze he wore so well.

You shook your head and laughed, though there was no humor behind it. “Oh no. No, Daddy doesn’t get to make anything up to me. In fact, Daddy doesn’t even get to touch me. Not for a long time.”

Your words and tone made him stop in place near your legs, your ankles crossed to hide your modesty. His features turned dark at your words, the mischief gone from his eyes. He suddenly didn’t find your mood so funny.

“What do you mean?”

“Just what I said.”

“Look…I said I was sorry, doll. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Negan said softly, the desperation in his voice apparent.

Your shrugged. “I know. Doesn’t mean Daddy doesn’t get punished.”

He went to protest, but you stopped him.

“It’s gonna be nothing but short skirts around the house.” You pulled your legs up, enjoying the way his eyes stalked your body.

“And you know something else Daddy?” You didn’t wait for a response, continuing to relentlessly tease your husband. “I am just so sick and tired of wearing panties.” You whined with an exaggerated sigh and roll of your eyes.

“Really?” He grunted, face impassive. His body was taut with tension already. His breathing had started to accelerate, his arousal mixing with his irritation. You knew the reaction well.

“Yeah. In fact,” You brought your knees up as you leaned back on your hands, your gaze luring him in like a shark to blood. “I’ve decided to throw them all away.” You emphasized your statement by spreading your legs, exposing your bare self to him.

Negan’s reaction was instantaneous. He fell to his knees in front of you, eyes glued to his favorite spot to worship. You could visibly see the effect your words had on him, the want and desire already spewing from his pores at just the thought of being prohibited from touching you.

“So take a good look, Daddy. You’re gonna be seeing an awful lot of this around the house.” You added with a smirk, enjoying the way his face crumbled.

He went to crawl towards you, but you shot a heeled foot out, catching him on his forehead. You gently pushed him back and away from the place he wanted to get to the most.

“But no touching.” You demanded, keeping him at bay with your outstretched leg.

“Fuck…” He cursed, clearly under distress from being denied. He let his face fall into the carpet, his muted protests filling the room.

“What’s wrong Daddy?” You teased with a faux pout.

Negan looked up, a strand of misplaced hair now in his face. He licked his lips, eyes flitting to your exposed pussy. The action made your walls flutter.

“Come on, baby. Lemme make it up to you. Let Daddy make you feel good.” He practically pleaded, long fingers now trying to wrap around your ankle.

You went to pull away, but he charged forward, splitting your legs open wider to make room for his hulking form. He took an exaggerated breath in, inhaling your scent. His eyes were closed, as if you were the best thing he smelled since apple pie.

“Goddamn I want you…” He said against your now throbbing pussy, lips and beard grazing your sensitive skin.

“I said no touching.” You repeated, hoping to gain control of the situation again. His nearness was throwing you off, his barely there touches affecting you more than you’d like.

He laughed, somehow finding your protest humorous. The action made you angry, not pleased that he wasn’t taking you seriously. You decided to use another tactic, something just as torturous, but pleasurable for you.

You stopped him from going any further by poking him in the cheek with your finger, gaining his attention. He was grinning up at you, feeling as if he’d made you crack. He did not.

“I want Daddy to use his mouth. And only his mouth. No hands.” You demanded, face impassive and tone cold.

Negan’s eyes shifted again, his jovial mood disappearing at your words. He didn’t make a joke or snide remark. He simply licked his lips again and nodded, accepting the challenge.

“Alright, doll. Whatever you say.”

He maneuvered his body so that he was propped on his elbows. The position of his body kept him from using his hands on you, something the man loved to do. Negan loved to use every single goddamn sense when fucking. He loved touching, tasting, smelling, and hearing the various aspects of sex…he loved to be consumed by it. He always gave himself over completely. The loss of his hands would kill him, you knew it.

You watched as he moved in slowly, taking his time. He was attempting to tease you in revenge. You smirked at his stubbornness, but shook your head at the powerplay. You were the one calling the shots and you were going to make sure he understood that.

“Don’t dawdle.” You ordered, the sternness in your voice making his grin widen.

He relented and without warning licked his tongue fully along your swollen lips. You jumped at the sensation, fingernails instinctually finding their way into his thick hair. He buried his face into your folds, his nose nudging your clit. His tongue sought you out immediately, tasting your flavor as he massaged your walls. You could see the enthusiasm behind his actions, his eagerness to make you forgive him almost comical. He may be unbelievable in bed, but he wasn’t about to think he’d made you surrender.

You pushed his face into you, throwing your head back and moaning when he sucked at your swollen clit. His tongue was trying to penetrate deeper, but without the use of his hands, he couldn’t gain purchase.

��Fuck, I gotta touch you. Lemme touch you, baby.” He practically begged, chest rising and falling in quick pants. His hair was mused from your hold, his facial hair and face soaked with your essence. He licked his lips, savoring the taste of you.

“On your back.” You demanded softly.

The pulsing between your thighs was getting worse, the role reversal between you and Negan making you wetter than you’d ever remembered being. Negan was a natural take-charge kind of guy. That attribute carried itself into the bedroom, not that you complained. You loved being dominated by your husband. But there was something about seeing him desperate and near delirious for you that made this so much better.

Negan didn’t question your words. He did as you said, lying back on the beige carpet. You shifted to your knees above him, eyes taking in the impressive bulge beneath his jeans. Your pink nails danced along his erection, making the flesh visibly twitch. He hissed at the action, his hands forming fist at his sides. You smiled at his effort to obey you.

“Looks like Daddy wants me. Bad.” You grasped his cock, rubbing the appendage slowly but with pressure. The gesture made Negan’s hips jump off the floor and into your hand, his head thrown back in barely tamed desire.

“Fucking shit, doll…” He growled as you straddled him and rubbed yourself against him. The friction made you whimper, the movement almost enough to make you cum.

You felt his hands on your thighs and you swatted them away, glaring down at him. “No touching, Daddy. That’s the rule.”

The vein in his neck was pulsing, his forehead beading with sweat. You picked up your pace, dry humping his clothed cock with lustful anger. You dug your nails into his chest, pleased at the grunt of pain he made in response. You could feel the fabric of his pants become damp with your juices, the clothing most definitely ruined. Then notion only fueled you, knowing that was at least what Negan deserved for the night before.

You used him for your pleasure, rolling your hips faster as that crescendo intensified. You could feel Negan’s eyes on you, but you were too busy with chasing your own end to notice. You threw your head back as a sudden jolt overtook your body, your limbs tensing as you shook with overflowing desire. You felt Negan thrust his hips up to meet yours, his orgasm close but not yet upon him.

“Doll, I gotta cum inside you.” He groaned, body stiff beneath your now pliable form.

You recovered from your orgasm and slide up his body, capturing his lips in a sloppy kiss. You could taste remnants of yourself on him, the mixed flavors of you and him making you hungry for more. Your lips moved to his neck and ear, leaving bruises behind as you marked him.

“Are you sorry, Daddy?” You breathed against his neck, feeling him shiver in response. His fingers were digging into the carpet, his threshold lowering against your repeated torture.

“Fuck, yes…I am. I’m fucking sorry, baby.”

You placed a wet kiss to his neck as your hands moved to his belt buckle. He moaned in relief as you undid his pants and pulled him free. He was a deep shade of red, the flesh hot and solid. He pulsed in your hand, cum dotting the tip eagerly. You swiped it away with your thumb and used it to ease up and down his cock. His hips met your hands, trying and failing to encourage you to move faster. You enjoyed seeing him suffer far too much.

“What does Daddy need?”

You situated yourself so that your bare pussy was level with his cock again. You moved against him, flesh sliding against each other. Negan reacted instantly and gripped your thighs as he threw his head back. You decided to let that indiscretion go.

“You. I need you.” He hissed, fingers digging into your flesh.

His thickness nudged your sensitive clit and you jerked away from it at first. You worked slowly, pushing Negan’s limits and your own. You smeared yourself all over his cock and his balls, never quite taking him in. His hips were trying to angle in such a way so that he could enter you, but you stopped him every time.

At what felt like the hundredth pass of him outside your opening, you slipped him inside of you. He slid in easily, both of you soaked from your arousal. He forced you to shift your hips so that he could fully enter you, his size always needing accommodation. You both released gasps and moans as you moved atop him, using his chest to keep your balance. His hands moved to your ass and pushed against you, urging you to increase your pace. You stopped moving altogether when he did that.

“Keep going.” He said between ragged breaths, dark eyes daring you to stop.

“Don’t get impatient, Daddy.” You began to move again as his hold loosened. You moved your hips in an up and down motion rather than rotating, feeling his cock banging deliciously against your cervix. He slipped out of you as you sped up, the slickness coating you both now obvious and obscene. You hurriedly slip him back inside you, the teasing now ceased.

“Fuck, right there doll.” He praised, neck now craned so that he can see you taking his cock. You give yourself over to the sensations, your game momentarily ended as a result.

Negan’s hips were meeting yours and you let loose a litany of moans as the dam burst, your body taking hold of him and spasming. He clenched his jaw and gripped your ass as he came with you, holding you to him. Your seizing body caught his spendings, your insides feeling immediate warmth as he coated your walls.

“Jesus Christ,” You panted, your heavily beating heart finally starting to slow. You collapsed on his chest, his softening cock still encased within you.

“Yeah, that’s one way to put it.” Negan chuckled, his hands caressing your back.

You rose and fell with the motions of his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Your eyes started to feel heavy, but you fought the pull of sleep.

“We actually need to talk about this, Negan.” You whispered, feeling him stiffen slightly.

He sighed, arms embracing you. “I know, doll. I’m working on it for you. I promise.”

The baritone in his voice made you feel warm and tingly, reminding you of those nostalgic thoughts you’d been swimming in when he’d found you in the closet. Even though he’d promised such things before, you believed him.

“I love you, doll.” His lips rested against your hair, his hands still stroking a comfortingly pattern along your back. You smiled at his words, unable to not react.

“I love you too. Daddy.” You teased, enjoying the way his chest shook beneath you with laughter.

“Does that mean I’m forgiven?” He asked hopefully, hands wandering back down to your ass.

“Not a chance.” 

[pointedly-foolish]

[ í'm вαd вєhαvíσur вut í dσ ít ín thє вєѕt wαч ]

word count: 6320

pairing: connor | rk800/gender-neutral!reader

genre: fluff; kinda crack treated seriously

summary: « as a wise man once said: “you haven’t lived until you’ve committed at least one blue collar crime” – wh-i… literally no one said that! he sputtered in bewilderment. – i just did… you said as you stomped on your cigarette. or are you calling me unwise? – yes! that’s exactly what i’m calling you! he exclaimed. you chuckled. – oh come on… live a little. it’s not even that bad. you consoled. »

the android before you was conflicted. you could tell from his yellow led, which kept flickering and spinning. the guy was seriously debating this. he’s intrigued. he wants to try it out, you just have to egg him on.

« i won’t tell if you don’t? you offered. »

you’re sure you had a harder time persuading others compared to this detective model android...

a/n: the time has come. i have inspiration. i have motivation. i managed to unblock myself. i think it’s because of stress? i couldn’t write because of stress lmfao or maybe it’s cuz of that oc x canon snippet i did idk.

both.

and uh, the story went out of hand and evolved by itself.

ping. a small popup in the top right corner of his hud caught his attention as he rearranged his folders, neatly putting them in his bag.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[ 1 ᴺᴱᵂ ᴹᴱˢˢᴬᴳᴱ: Love ]

> hey im outside waiting for u xx Noted. <

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he quickly replied and picked up the pace, securing his beanie and wrapping his scarf. grabbing his bag, he excused himself: « see you tomorrow, lieutenant. – wait! connor! the younger man stopped in his tracks, and turned to face the lieutenant. – just… you know how i feel about [ y/n ]... the android patiently waited for him to elaborate. – if you don’t feel comfortable doing what they want you to do, just... know that you don’t have to. he instructed. and if they force you, or hu— – hank. he gently interrupted. the older man stopped his tirade, a mix of emotions on his face: surprise. concern. annoyance. mostly concern. – hank, he restarted. i’ll be fine. he reassured him. i know you don’t trust them, and i can’t force you to, but have a little faith. “in me” in that last sentence unspoken. – i… fuck, i know… but- he grumbled. just, if you don’t feel safe, call me. ok? – of course. he answered. »

before stepping out of the building, the android looked back at his father figure, « take care, see you in the morning. », he did a small wave and threw his best pacifying smile. acute scans heard the older man’s resigned sigh and the twinkle of lingering concern in his features.

once out of the building, his sensors noted the drastic drop in temperature, the warmth and ambient brightness of within was replaced by the cold and windy dullness. it was a rather chilly night, clocking in at 14 degrees celsius, wind blowing rather harshly. wrapping his coat tighter around himself, he heads for where you normally park: take a right from the precinct, a few blocks away. when he reached you, you were leaning on your motorbike, preoccupied with something on your phone, and only noticing the android through his footsteps. looking up, you smirked, and stuffed your mobile into your pocket: « glad to see that they freed you, you said, flicking a cigarette butt away. – yes… i hope i didn’t make you wait too long? he greeted back. – nah, it’s fine. »

you chucked the spare helmet you brought towards him—which he caught effortlessly—« come on, i wanna show you something. »

the ride to the destination was uneventful: it was the usual fare. you sped through the traffic, weaving through the different vehicles at a speed connor was sure was much over the speed limit (he has since given up on informing you as you seemed to ignore him, not keen on slowing down anytime soon).

this location seemed to be some distance outside of the city, as the street grew narrower and darker. the sounds of other vehicles no longer accompanying them. all he could hear was the air that you were blazing through and the humming of the motorcycle underneath you. the cold wind blew from the direction you were heading, and he could feel the rush of air against his body, a sensation that, he figured, would feel chilly and unpleasant if he could “feel” cold. still, he instinctively clung tighter to your body to preserve body heat. he watched the scenery change, sights buzzing by; the dark sky grew clearer and clearer, until a few bright stars were visible unlike back in the heart of the city.

the motorcycle slowed down to a halt, and he dismounted the vehicle. « here we are, you struck out a hand to dramatically gesture at the building. my usual haunt. »—the android squinted as he scrutinised the place, but before he could get a good look, his sight abruptly turned to black, his eyes not yet caught up with the sudden change in lighting. it was as if someone turned off the light switch, the world suddenly plunged into darkness. and apparently somebody did: you finally joined him after turning off the bike, killing the only light source. nudging him to alert him of your presence, you pulled out a flashlight from your bag and flicked it on, illuminating the area once more. you headed towards the building, and twirled to face him. « tada! my happy place, where i usually come to relax after weeks of finals. you announced pridefully. »

[ ᴬᴺᴬᴸᵞˢᴵᴺᴳ ]

he regarded the place apprehensively. to say that it was what he expected it to be would be lie: what he expected to be a warm and rustic cottage, one that exudes cosiness, turned out to be the old remains of an unfinished construction, merely the skeleton of what would be commonhold. it was dark and dreary, shadows covering the empty spaces and the walls. some of the surface were left unfinished, making the “building” perforated, cold and unfriendly. brutal, even. It was clearly dirty, not taken care of, with rubble littering the floors. he analysed the building and was concerned over its structural integrity. it didn’t seem that stable… surely you wouldn’t…?

you noticed your boyfriend’s souring impression and quickly tried to redeem the monument in his eyes: « that look on you face… you hate this... don’t you? you winced. your question caught him off guard, causing him to fumble for a recovery. – i-uh… no! it… has a unique charm. – you’re allowed to be honest, you know? you sighed. – it’s … certainly not what i had in mind, he winced. you bit your lip in a nervous smile. it’s far from prim and proper for straight laced connor, but you hope that this doesn’t end in a disastrous date. – give it a chance, let me show you up there… you’ll love it! you grinned, trying to lighten the mood. »

entering the structure almost felt like entering a different reality: the white noises of the outside world, the hooting of owls, the chirping and buzzing of insects and the howl of the wind were dampened as soon as he followed you in. it was a different realm, where shade crawled about and reigned, the silence deafening and oppressive. « mind the step. you alerted him. » the murk did not deter you one bit, and, knowing the layout of the structure by heart, you led him through different twist and turns, avoiding what he deduced would be multiple deadends. only the light of the flashlight illuminating the way. he followed you obediently, not straying too far away from you, at the risk of becoming lost in this labyrinth. he observed the environment, perturbed. the area contained so many potential hazards, and the thought that you frequented this place often distressed him slightly: though he did not doubt your ability to take care of yourself, he didn’t like the idea that you could’ve potentially hurt yourself every time you went here. he snapped out of his musing millimetres away from colliding with you and directed his attention to what you were currently preoccupied by: a ledge that led to the second floor. « hey babe… how much do you weigh? he took a few moments to answer, but you quickly rephrased. – sorry, you chuckled, that turned out more personal that i thought. can you give me a leg up? you nodded at the protruding wall. the stairs that lead to the upper floors are blocked by rubble so i’m afraid this is our only way up. »

he simply nodded, you securing your light on your belt as he put himself in position against the wall to boost you up. the climb went through easily, and you quickly turned around to pull him up after his running jump. you both quickly stood up, the android dusting himself, ridding his clothes of soot and dust, before you start your trek once more.

« i was wondering—assuming you usually frequent this place on your own—how do you get over that wall by yourself? he asked. – with great difficulty, you answered truthfully. the android rolled his eyes. – obviously, he says, in that lilt that never fails to make you chuckle. – yeah? well i hope you’re not too tired today, ‘cause we have a bit more scaling to do. don’t want you slowing me down, you teased. – as if. he scoffed. »

once on the highest floor, you led him towards an open chamber whose floor was largely intact but had a large gaping hole on one side—one that helped ventilate the room who, compared to the rest of the building, was properly aerated, the air much cleaner and safer to breathe than the musty and stale odor down below. the opening allowed the moonlight to bathe the room in a soft glow, illuminating the occupants with an ethereal white. a second source of light caught his attention: a small fire that you ignited inside a metal drum, a flame whose heat was a pleasant contrast to the cold, an ember that highlighted the place with a stark, warm, orange glow against the satellite’s smooth, cold, bluish-white light.

you sat down unceremoniously on a worn out and unfinished windowsill—resembling more like a vaguely rectangular opening—the android joining you on the opposite side. lighting a cigarette, you took a deep breath and sighed, leaning back and gazing into the sable sky decorated by a plethora of stars. the man facing you mimicked your movements and gazed at the celestial bodies, little lights twinkling in the dark, innocent and brilliant. able to take his time to view the heavens, he noted that it resembles an elysian painting, tinted an aegean blue. accompanying the sight was the rumbles of a rock song he wasn’t familiar with, probably from a rock concert a few kilometres away—making a note to find out and identify the venue. he could feel the deep thrumming of the bass and vaguely hear the melody, and though the dampened music made it slightly harder for him to pin it down, he managed to identify it: a hit song from a local indie band. he turned to face you, your form peacefully resting against the wall behind you, eyes closed; features relaxed. breathing deeply, you blew puffs of smoke with a lazy, yet content, smile.

« so? what d’you think? your eyes were directly on him now. i know you had your reservations about this place...  »

there was a small twitch in your smile, a tell he caught that told him of your nervousness. despite his previous opinion of this place, he could see why you liked it, and considered it your happy place: it was a distance away from the big city, the air pollution and the noise. it was quieter and calmer here, without any of the loud colours and chatter that never seemed to cease. the location also provided a good view of the woods around it and the elegant skies above, along with ambient music. one that certainly fit your tastes, but at a distance that didn’t make the atmosphere overbearing. it was a good place to recharge; to rest and to think, away from the cumbersome responsibilities, if only for a little while.

« i like it... it has a unique charm. he found himself repeating himself. it’s a good place to escape. – do you? as if a switch was flicked, your uncertain demeanour was replaced with a cheeky grin. i’m glad this place grew on you! you stood up and placed yourself closer to the android, sinking back on him. – i... like places like these and exploring them… just glad i didn’t bore you away. »

you sighed as you settled comfortably against his chest, his arms quickly wrapping around your waist to cradle your form in a tight embrace. he replied with a hum of approval. placing a hand on yours, he brings it up and presses a kiss on your palm. you gently caressed his cheek as he did. « i’m never bored when i get to spend time with you, my love. he says softly, earnestly. – you’re not half bad yourself, babe. you replied. »

he smacked your arm in faux disdain as you placed a kiss on his jaw, and the conversation ended after that. It was quiet, but it wasn’t an awkward silence; no, it was a comfortable one. no other words uttered. just the two of you, the crackle of the flame, your thoughts and the heavens. connor is tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand, resting his head on the top of yours—his focus switching from the galaxy above and you—while you simply relish on the warmth of his presence and hum along to the song playing in the background. though you knew he meant what he said, you notice him start to fidget and become restless. you’re never sure if it was due to the fact that he was a tireless android or if it was simply a tic of his, but he’s unable to simply sit and be. he’s already analysed all that could be analysed in this place, and you know it’s something he can’t help but do. he had a constant need to be up and about, doing something or preoccupying his mind with something.

« beautiful night, tonight, isn’t it? you started, catching his attention. there was a few moments of silence before he answered. – but certainly not as charming as you. – ha. smooth one, anderson. » the flame in the drum is dying, the heat it brought fading away: an attestation of the time that has passed. it’s been that long huh? the band has changed to a different song, though it shows no signs of finishing anytime soon. you decided it was time to put connor out of his misery and do something else.

snapping up unto your feet—startling the android slightly—you offer a hand and pulled him up: « i got an idea. and it’s probably going to sound like a terrible, inane idea… – how foolish are we talking? he asked, unfazed after going through with multiple of your “dates”; including, but not limited to, urban exploration, base jumping, and graffiti (he still doesn’t know why he agreed… he remembers you saying « rebel against the humans! ») – i mean… it’s pretty tame considering the stuff i proposed before. you shrugged. he raised a brow in suspicion. – you... might be charged with criminal trespass… you admit and he looks horrified. but! but! you continued. that’s only if you get caught! which you wouldn’t be if you’re with me! you reassured him. – what are you planning to do, exactly? – i was thinking about sneaking in the concert and just bask in the energy. head for the moshpit or something. you’re bouncing off your ideas, hoping it might interest him. have fun, enjoy the music. – i’ve researched that venue, it’s a private property! do you know the charges that’ll be pressed against you? he asked, perplexed. – duh! it’s a misdemeanour trespass, as is stated in the michigan penal code: county jail for 30 days and/or a fine. section 750.552.. you answered nonchalantly. it don’t really matter! as i said: we won’t get caught. – how are so calm about breaking these laws? he questioned, perplexed. for a law student, you seem so adamant to break them… – look, con. i’m not gonna force you to do this. i love you, and i understand that you have a reputation to uphold, being a detective and all. you assured him. i don’t want you to feel that i’m peer pressuring you into this. – i… i don’t.. you notice how his eyes shift, looking to the far left, unable to make eye contact. you notice that he’s conflicted, that he wants to do this, but doesn’t. you sigh. – look, we can walk back to the bike while you think about it, and you can tell me your decision once we’re there. alright? »

he doesn’t answer, but you know he heard you, so you start to make your way back down, the android following you wordlessly. once down by your bike, you lean on it—rather similarly to how he met you earlier today—and nod at him: « so? what’s you’re decision? – this sounds like a bad idea… still disagreeing, but not outright denying it. you meant what you said: you don’t want to make him do what he doesn’t want to do, but a partner in crime doesn’t sound half bad. you huff. – connor anderson. the connor anderson himself, who snuck into jericho. the same one who infiltrated cyberlife tower in what seemed to be a suicide mission. is scared of a little trespassing? you teased. live a little! – i don’t see how me committing a crime would contributes to my satisfaction with life. – haven’t you heard? as a wise man once said: “you haven’t lived until you’ve committed at least one blue collar crime” – wh-i… literally no one said that! he sputtered in bewilderment. – i just did… you said as you stomped on your cigarette. or are you calling me unwise? – yes! that’s exactly what i’m calling you! he exclaimed. you chuckled. – oh come on… live a little. it’s not even that bad. you consoled. »

the android before you was conflicted. you could tell from his yellow led, which kept flickering and spinning. the guy was seriously debating this. he’s intrigued. he wants to try it out, you just have to say the right things. problem with the rk800 models: they were much too curious for their own good.

« i won’t tell if you don’t? you offered. »

you seat yourself on your bike and turn back to face him: « so, are you in? a moment of silence. the android seemed to have a renewed confidence. – as a law enforcement officer, what’s stopping me from arresting you right now? his eyes held a newfound determination. you smirked lazily. – absolutely nothing. »

he swears to god, or ra9, or whatever higher power there is, that you will be the death of him.

« get off. your ordered. he followed the command without a word. – we’re gonna walk the rest of the way. you added. »

the concert venue was now at a reasonable distance away, and it was within eyeshot. however, that also meant that everything was much louder. he could now feel the boom of the loud music, and make out the lyrics.

« so i’ve stalked this place before, and i know an entry. here’s the plan: we’re gonna immediately go to the right side. the fence that side is less guarded, since there’s a ditch that leads there; we can hide in there. however there was a drone, just one, and a cctv camera—and we also need to look out for guards—alors fais gaffe1 ok? this far along and he still seemed hesitant, so you give one final push. – too late to back out now buddy. you’ll be fine though. just follow my lead and disable that camera. – wait! you glanced back at him. once inside, what do we do? – just act natural and have fun. you grinned. » and with that, you took off, making your way to the future crime scene. he sighed, still unsure on how you managed to coerce him into this, but jogged to catch up to you.

you hopped down in the ditch, connor not too far behind, and you quickly mentioned, while pointing at a sign that said “no androids allowed”: « by the way, you might want to keep that led of yours hidden. i’ve got some bobby pins if you need ‘em. you motioned to the beanie that he was currently adjusting. »

once he seemed satisfied with his changes, you asked him if he could tamper with the camera, which he swiftly disabled. you come out of your little hiding space and start climbing up the chain link fence, telling connor to keep an eye out for the security drone currently patrolling. what you forgot to tell him was the part where you were going to take it out, catching the android off guard as you throw yourself off the top part of the fence you were clinging on onto the passing drone. your swinging and flailing, combined with your weight pulling it down, caused the contraption to crash and the android—who seemed to have snapped out of his stupor—grabbed a metal pipe lying near the barrier and proceeded to smash the machine. chucking the object to the side, he went to help you up on you feet: « are you alright? – i’m fine. you looked at the metallic junk that was once a drone. we make a pretty good team, don’t you think? he looked back at the destroyed drone. – i don’t want to keep thinking about it… – destruction of property. you clicked your tongue. i’m proud of you con. you pretended to wipe a tear off your eyes. – let’s just go. he turned away , and you follow him up the fence with a chuckle. – cheer up con. you hopped over the chain. it’s okay… you’ve done worse. »

he was about to retort, when a figure seemed to head your way, and you both managed to duck out into a corner before being discovered by the flashlight. when it was clear, you snuck out of the hiding spot and proceeded to join the masses. it was different. he’s never been to a concert before. sure, he was a fan of rock, often listening to it with hank, but experiencing it live was so very different. he knew it would be loud, deafening, but he didn’t expect the surge of excitement and vivacity. it was exhilarating, a completely different world: the bright colours, the loud ambiance, the energy of the music. the android couldn’t help, but let himself get a bit excited. he was glad he decided to come though he’d never admit it to you.

you both floated around the edge of the crowd, the venue being full. it wasn’t a particularly big place, but there were quite a lot of people there, you mused out loud. must be a pretty popular band, their song being catchy enough. at some point or another, you both cheered along with the crowd (though he was much meeker in his cries), and for some reason, decided to try and wade through the people to get closer to the front—the moshpit—this time, the android seemed to play along with your plan without complaint.

he sort of wished he had now. you don’t really know when it happened, whether it was when you rummaged through the people or during a collision while moshing, lost in the intensity of the crowd—every member in state of ecstatic delirium. the beanie came off. when he realised, he quickly hid his led, which was a disturbed yellow, and notified you. you didn’t have to hear what he said to know what was happening. you quickly led him towards the “exit”, the immediate crowd—who saw the black sheep—parting like the red sea as you crossed, but as your neared the edge of the venue security finally reached and cornered you. you quickly placed yourself besides connor, sending across a relaxed body language. you discreetly grabbed his hand, and whispered « play along » which he wouldn’t have heard if he were human.

« how may we help you sir? you asked, flashing your friendliest smile. – i’m concerned about this friend of yours… his eyes glanced at your boyfriend, but you keep your eyes on him. connor was unfazed. perhaps because he trusted your ability in getting yourselves out of this mess—awww, you’re flattered—or that his model are used to high stress environment—most likely, but you certainly hope it was also because of the former. this was a darker area of the place, so it would obscure most of your features, and the band was still playing in the background—ignorant to the revelation—which would somewhat hide your voices. – what about him? curt and indignant. – androids are not allowed in this area. he pointed to the anti-android post outside the fence. the fence that led to freedom. i’m going to have to bring him in for trespass, and you for smuggling him in. androids were recognised as their own sentient species, but laws protecting them have yet to be passed: android-free zones were still legal. most places in the city removed their anti-android signs, but people from the periphery seemed more resistant to change. fuck. – oh that old thing? the led? that don’t prove nothing. you shrugged. be cool [y/n]. it’s just a temporary tattoo. motherfucker lost a bet. you thank whatever gods above that the rk800 models could somewhat control their led colour, so that his remained blue. – is that so? he turned to connor. you seemed adamant on hiding that led of yours. the asshat must have a grudge against androids, huh? You wished he’d just kick you out. make life easier for both parties. – it’s a fake tattoo. he played along. and it’s a bad one at that—i don’t want to be associated with those plastics… he grumbled. you cackled. – well, maybe you shouldn’t have lost that bet, michael. the guard in front of you grunted, displeased. he really wanted to bring in an android huh? prove something to someone? or just pure malice? you never really paid attention in psych class. – if that’s the case, since you’re both humans, i’d like to see your ticket.  »

you went rigid. clenching your jaw you planned your next course of action. you have your phone in your pocket, but there was nothing. you could surrender it, and run away as he was distracted, but he could then trace it back to you and press charges… you could fight? the both of you could easily overpower him, outrunning him wouldn’t be a problem either. but you’ll never hear the end of it if you decided to hurt someone when you had a more pacifist option, so you chose to run. it was abrupt. you were in a standoff, one party waiting for the other to make their move. and all of the sudden you make a break for it and dash off for the fence, your partner running for it too. there was a bit of a scuffle but you managed to fend him off long enough for you to scramble up the fence. the man quickly caught up and yanked your leg—alarming you—though a well placed kick from the other freed you long enough to jump off into the other side, ready to make a dash for your life as you land.

the two of you ran until you reached your bike, which was quite a distance away (thank fuck for that, at least he won’t follow you that far—unless he’s really fucking persistent), where you collapsed on the spot and panted slightly. the android himself was looking slightly weary. heavy breathing turned into wheezing laughter as the absurdity of what just transpired settled into your mind.

« i can’t believe that actually happened! you exclaimed between laughs. – we barely got out of there! he chided. we were almost arrested! – but we weren’t. told ya’ con. should’a believed me. you tsk-ed, having calmed down from the giggles. i’m insulted to be quite honest. you exploded into another fit of laughter. – i don’t know how i managed to get you to do this with me! you howled. – never again. he stated, a finality in his tone. – oh come on, you loved it. you rolled your eyes. he stared at you in silence, unimpressed. it was true, but you’ll never hear that from him. – i hate you, he frowned. – love you too babe, you responded, running a hand through your hair. »

he sighed and let himself fall beside you. taking out your backpack once more, you rummaged through and handed him an item: an inconspicuous water bottle. when asked what it was, you answered « thirium. that’s what you guys drink right? » as you opened your own water bottle, gulping down its content. he informed you that androids don’t need to constantly replenish the thirium in his body like humans did with water—only drinking them when they have lost a significant amount—but that he appreciated the gesture. “it’s the thought that counts”.

you huffed, slightly bashful, going into a tirade about how you can’t keep up with the constantly evolving technology. « you’re starting to sound like hank now. » he chuckled and you grimaced and pretended to vomit in response, though you joined him in his laughter. you both spent time sitting there. just breathing. coming down from your adrenaline rush.

« wanna crash at my place? you offered. – i’d be more than happy to, he obliged. »

that night, you both slept like a rock. well, you did. you completely conked out. connor peacefully entered stasis as he usually did. you arrived at your flat sometime in the morning and passed out. barely managing to blearily have a “shower”—dousing yourself in water—before passing out.

come later in the morning—when the light shone softly and the white noise of the city: ambient sound of traffic, chatter, chirping of pigeons—you were sleeping peacefully when you felt someone shift beside you, rousing you slightly from your slumber. you groaned as your head gains enough coherence to remember about university and the brunt of the waking world. think you’re gonna play hooky today. maybe kenneth can take notes for you… you made a note to ask him later...

unwrapping himself from you, your partner stood up to get ready to go to work—going off to change into neater clothings that he stored in your house and getting decent—and went off to prepare a pot of coffee for you and stick bread in the toaster. feeling the sudden loss of heat as he went away, your sleep heavy mind blindly felt the portion of the bed that he usually slept on—the right—patting it, looking for the missing presence. this went on for a few minutes and your limb felt heavy as your tired body fell back asleep. you resigned to simply poke your arm from under the cover, hoping it’d catch someone. you were half asleep when the reaching hand finally found something, as it was held and gently guided to another’s cheek, yet another kiss pressed on your palm. you felt your heart melt, and hummed approvingly. « stay. you mumbled. he smiled at your naïve request. – i have to go to work. – skip work… f… ight the government… you yawned. – you know i can’t do that, my love. – i… order you... you sleep riddled mind was struggling to keep up as you slowly dozed again. to… – i’ll see you again this evening, i’ll be right back. oh yeah it’s saturday, you reminded yourself. no classes. you mentally cheered. – okk… you were going to pass out again. »

his warmth left you, and you find yourself yearning for it again. before he left, he glanced back towards you—practically buried under the duvet, only visible as a lump under the blanket and the hand poking through the right side. « i love you, [y/n] »

you were too gone to reply, but regardless, he left for work with a small smile.

work went on as usual. filling reports was boring, but it had to be done. at least he could finish them in record time, built to be more efficient at it than your typical human officer. being a detective assigned to the anti-android crimes taskforce, it was rather quiet right now, and though he was grateful that androids weren’t being harmed, it was terribly boring. though colin, who had to start all the way back at the beginning as a beat cop, seemed to be enjoying a peaceful break. he sighed for the umpteenth time as he fidgeted and fiddled with his coin, having already abused the fun out of his multiple pens and pencils. he missed spending time with you; at least it was exciting and unpredictable (getting to be with you is an enjoyable bonus). he stared blankly at his coin and sighed again. his father figure gave him a look across the desk—“did anything happen?”. he shook his head.—“no nothing bad or dangerous happened while i was with [y/n].”. the android then asked if he fancied a cup of coffee from the coffee shop across the road. the old man simply grunted.

« you can just take a walk, you don’t need to use me as a fucking excuse. – alright. he answered placidly. »

the android thought about walking to stretch his legs. maybe go to that bakery that you fancied so much. you did like the strawberry shortcake a crazy amount. but as he would find out, the slow and easy moments shouldn’t be taken for granted: a very disgruntled man, who stormed in to file a police report, happened to run in with the android, still somewhat deep in his musings. oh boy was he in for a rude awakening.

they both promptly apologise, however, once they saw each other they instantly recognised each other—though the detective kept his face neutral. « you! you’re the fucking android that trespassed into a restricted area! he accused. straight faced, he replied calmly. – i am indeed an android, but i believe you may have accused the wrong one. there often many iterations of the same model. he cursed his stars and the fates that put him in this situation. one that meant he was, as hank would put it, in deep shit. »

he was glad most people didn’t know there were only 2 rk800 currently in circulation: him and his brother, colin, whom he was trying to contact. as connor continued trying to placate the angry man, and deny his involvement in anything, he heard his brother’s voice come through.

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[ ᵂᴴᴬᵀ'ˢ ᵁᴾ? ] > [ ᵀᴴᴱᴿᴱ ᴵˢ ᴬ ᴹᴬᴺ ᴼᵁᵀ ᴴᴱᴿᴱ, ᶜᴸᴱᴬᴿᴸᵞ ᵛᴱᴿᵞ ᶜᴿᴼˢˢᴱᴰ, ᵂᴴᴼ ᵂᴼᵁᴸᴰ ᴸᴵᴷᴱ ᵀᴼ ᶠᴵᴸᴱ ᴬ ᴾᴼᴸᴵᶜᴱ ᴿᴱᴾᴼᴿᵀ. ] he decided to give him a clear picture.

[ SENDING AUDIO-VISUAL FEED TO RK800 #313 248 317-60—COLIN ] [ LINK ESTABLISHED. WAITING PERMISSION… ] [ ACCEPTED. ]

> [ ᴬ ᵀᴿᴱˢᴾᴬˢˢ ᴼᴺ ᴾᴿᴵᵛᴬᵀᴱ ᴾᴿᴼᴾᴱᴿᵀᵞ ᴮᵞ ᴬ ᴰᴱᵛᴵᴬᴺᵀ ] there was a moment of silence before his brother replied. [ ᵂᴴᴬᵀ ᵀᴴᴱ ᴴᴱᴸᴸ ᴰᴵᴰ ᵞᴼᵁ ᵀᵂᴼ ᴳᴱᵀ ᴵᴺᵀᴼ ᴸᴬˢᵀ ᴺᴵᴳᴴᵀ? ] > [ ᴵ ᴬᴾᴾᴿᴱᶜᴵᴬᵀᴱ ᴴᴼᵂ ᵞᴼᵁ ᴵᴹᴹᴱᴰᴵᴬᵀᴱᴸᵞ ᴬˢˢᵁᴹᴱᴰ ᴵᵀ ᵂᴬˢ ᵁˢ. ] connor replied, sarcastic but devoid of humour. [ ᵂᴱᴸᴸ? ᵂᴬˢ ᴵᵀ ᴿᴱᴬᴸᴸᵞ ᵞᴼᵁ ᵀᵂᴼ? ] the android, who somehow felt a migraine develop—even though that shouldn’t be possible—sighed. > [ ᴸᴼᴺᴳ ˢᵀᴼᴿᵞ ˢᴴᴼᴿᵀ, ᵂᴱ ᵀᴿᴱˢᴾᴬˢˢᴱᴰ ᴵᴺᵀᴼ ᴬᴺ ᴬᴿᴱᴬ ᵂᵂ ˢᴴᴼᵁᴸᴰ'ᵛᴱ ᴬᵛᴼᴵᴰᴱᴰ. ] > [ˢᴱᴺᴰ ᴴᴱᴸᴾ? ] [ ᵞᴼᵁ? ᶜᴼᴹᴹᴵᵀᴱᴰ ᴬ ᶜᴿᴵᴹᴱ ᴼᴺ ᵞᴼᵁᴿ ᴼᵂᴺ ᵛᴼᴸᴵᵀᴵᴼᴺ? ]

the android could hear his brother cackle at his misery. though outside of earshot, the sound echoes in his mind as the link was not yet severed.

[ ᴺᴬᴴ, ᵞᴼᵁ'ᴿᴱ ᴼᴺ ᵞᴼᵁᴿ ᴼᵂᴺ ᴼᴺ ᵀᴴᴵˢ ᴼᴺᴱ ] [ ᴳᴼᴼᴰ ᴸᵁᶜᴷ ᵀᴴᴼᵁᴳᴴ. ] [ ᴴᴬᴺᴷ'ˢ ᴳᴼᴺᴺᴬ ᴮᴱ ᴾᴵˢˢᴱᴰ ] and with that, his brother abandoned him.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the man was absolutely irate, convinced that he was the one who trespassed in the venue—he wasn’t wrong—be he kept accusing someone of the same profile as him, but named “michael”. you really did him a favour on that one. it seemed like salvation had come however, as hank intercept the confrontation—the man calmed down after seeing a human officer. his brother must’ve informed the lieutenant (connor wants to thank him, but not), knowing how the appearance of two rk800s would only aggravate the situation. through a stroke of luck, the man didn’t have enough evidence to successfully file a report—against an rk800 named “michael”... who didn’t exist.

but to say that hank was pissed was an understatement. thus begins the walk of shame as hank demanded to « talk in private ». at the end of a severe tongue-lashing, decorated with many “fuck”s and “shit”s, he was in a sour mood and positively fuming. forget the shortcake. he was absolutely going to get back at you for this.

you were snoozing peacefully, off in dreamworld, when you woke up to the buzzing of your phone. groggy, you ran you hand under the pillows and felt for the object until you found it. checking it revealed that you 27 missed calls from an unknown number and a few message from them:

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

unknown number [ two missed message ]

> what the fuck did you get connor into? > ???????

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

bzz. bzz. a new message?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

unknown number [ 1 new message ]

> i know you saw the messages, fuckibg answer

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you also had a new message from connor, though his message didn’t bode well for you either:

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

connard2 anderson <3 [ 1 missed message ]

> we need to talk. > ):<

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the use of the emoji made you chuckle, but you were scared of what the future brought for you. oh boy… you were in deep shit weren’t you…

e͟p͟i͟l͟o͟g͟u͟e͟:

you lived to see another day. hank gave you an even more brutal scolding than what connor received, and you swore that if this were a shitty choice-that-matters game you’d see a metre for his friendship go down. not that there was much there in the first place.

connor gave an even more punishing sanction: he gave you the absolute silent treatment for a month. no talking, no hugs nor cuddles, and only the odd texts once in a blue moon. an absolutely miserable 31 days for you, spent by sulking. safe to say this was a punishment you’ll never forget, and one that will discourage you from ever trying that kind of stunt ever again.

or at least when connor’s around. it’s free game when it’s just you by yourself. connor knows this and simply sighs in resignation and just hopes you don’t get yourself in potentially future career ruining situation...

f͟o͟o͟t͟n͟o͟t͟e͟s

1. french expression that i was too lazy to translate, essentially means “watch out/stay alert”,,, somewhere along those lines, but informal. 2. connard is a french word pronounced almost like connor, but it means shithead. reader has a strange sense of humour.

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[anavoliselenu]

freedom chapter 4

JUSTIN POV

"Every human has four endowments- self awareness, conscience, independent will and creative imagination. These give us the ultimate human freedom... The power to choose, to respond, to change."-Stephen Covey

The alarm clock on my nightstand blared loudly in my head. I whacked my arm in its general direction, and it fell to the floor with a clatter, but still kept honking the obnoxious noise. I had to hang off of the bed to try and reach it, but that wasn't successful. I finally just ripped the plug from the wall, shutting the thing up for good.

I rolled back on the bed and threw my arm over my eyes, willing myself to go back to sleep. Never once, in the past four years, had I used an alarm clock to wake up. Now, things were different. I had obligations. Today was going to be hell.

I turned my head to see Selena sleeping peacefully beside me, and her nose scrunched up at the dream she was having. Her lips were moving with silent words and I had to admit, this sight was a rather funny way to wake up. She told me that her dreams were really vivid, but I had no idea what could be going on inside her head. How could she look so peaceful, yet agitated at the same time?

I took my hand and moved a piece of hair out of her face. She sighed and reached out for me, resting her head on my chest. I didn't move and let her fall deeper into sleep.

I kissed her soft skin…once…twice…

Selena started to stir so I stopped, but then decided to kiss her again, just for the hell of it. A smile played on her lips, before she fell back into sleep.

I, on the other hand, had a hard time sleeping last night. My body didn't want to shut down but of course, I knew why: I had to get back to work.

I was actually surprised at how well Emmett had kept my professional life afloat. I was the only one who knew the real inner workings of Justin Bieber, Inc., but he did a pretty good job. Contrary to popular belief, I actually did have legitimate business ventures in the world. Emmett, not able to handle it all himself, had to hire out. The business was doing well, but not succeeding like I wanted. Well, things were certainly going to change now that I was back.

It had been a week since Selena and I touched down in Chicago. Slowly, our lives were starting to calm down. The shock of us being back had worn off on the family. Jasper stopped looking at me funny, like I was going to evaporate, and Emmett even started telling me stupid jokes again. He was already getting on my nerves.

Esme was still in an irritated state. Carlisle said that he was still expected to move out, but he was trying hard to calm her down. It wasn't working. Alec told me that he was basically begging for forgiveness at this point. I knew the feeling. Esme already said she forgave me somewhat. Carlisle—not so much. I didn't really give a shit about what Esme's problems were. I loved her, but my allegiances were to Selena now. What she said at the funeral was completely uncalled for and until she apologized, I don't think I could ever look at my mother the same way again.

I didn't know how I was supposed to "re-introduce" myself into the world, but thankfully, the stupid media was all over it. One small newspaper out in some hick town upstate reported that Selena and I were a part of the small group that landed at the airport coming from Italy. After that, everyone was looking for some kind of verification. They called Carlisle, they staked out the house, and asked everyone who knew me if it was true. No one said a word.

Selena and I went to the grocery store a couple of days ago and a cameraman caught us. That was it. The secret was out and people went berserk. Dramatic headlines stated, "Justin Bieber Rises Like the Phoenix" and "Justin Bieber: Real or Ghost?" They dominated the newspapers. The internet was abuzz, and the local TV stations said I was some kind of fraud. Carlisle eventually had to release a statement, but it didn't give anything away about the real reasons for my departure. For the most part, faking my death was actually legal if under the heading of self-defense. That was all people needed to know.

Interestingly, the police were the only group who didn't have anything to say about my arrival. They were embarrassed and were sitting back, licking their wounds until they found some other way to get me. It was always the same story.

I was sure that by now Aro had formulated his plans to have me killed, Shinobu was plotting a way to have me run over, and James was definitely salivating for my blood. Bring it on. I was ready for them.

But first, I had to get up.

I lightly pushed Selena off of me and she thankfully didn't wake. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and blinked myself away for a couple of seconds. I stripped out of my boxers on the way to the bathroom and had the water for my shower running within a couple of seconds.

I stood under the water, trying to make mental notes about the day. I had a schedule of things I needed to do, phone calls that needed to be made, and a business that needed to be revived.

Old habits die hard and after twenty-seven minutes, I had to get out of the shower. My body wouldn't allow a second longer.

I dried myself off and went into the closet that was recently stocked with fine pressed suits, neatly folded shirts, and polished shoes. I had already set out what I was going to wear last night and meticulously dressed in a navy blue Armani suit. I was still getting used to looking so professional on a daily basis.

I fixed my tie perfectly, completing my ensemble. I combed through my hair and tamed the beast before standing tall to look myself over.

"You look good, Justin," I said to the mirror.

Selena wasn't in bed when I went back into the room. I collected my phone and wallet then went downstairs to find Selena making breakfast. Well, she was making Pop Tarts, but same thing.

"I'm so excited, Justin," she said when I came into the kitchen. "It's your first day back."

"I'm not going to school." I poured myself a cup of coffee.

"It's just like that. Are you nervous?"

"No, I'm thinking about it as just another day." I shrugged.

The Pop Tarts sprang up from the toaster and Selena placed them on a plate, handing it out for me.

"You need to have some strength." She smiled.

"You know I don't eat those. Too much processed junk. I'll be good with my coffee."

"This isn't junk. Pop Tarts are what our childhoods were made of."

"I don't think so." I sat on a stool. "With all this new equipment and a fridge stocked with food, I thought you'd be going crazy."

"I don't know what to make first. There's just so much." She sat next to me.

"So, you like the kitchen?"

"I love the kitchen. I would say thank you again, but you'd just tell me not to bother."

I had actually been building this place for about a year. I would ask Selena inconspicuously what she might want in a house one day: one story or two, a porch, patio, deck, pool in the back, large front yard; things like that. I drew up the plans and had Carlisle oversee the construction. Thankfully, it was just about done when we got here. Everything was completed to my specifications, and it seemed like I had done a good job, because Selena loved it. Every day she would tell me about some new feature to the house that she though was perfect.

Never in my life did I think I was going to be living with a woman… in a house. But then again, Selena just wasn't some woman. She was the woman. My woman.

"I'm glad you like it," I told her.

"What are you going to do today?" she asked, taking a small bite of her strawberry Pop Tart. She licked a crumb from the corner of her lips and obviously didn't know how hard it was for me to stay focused.

"Carlisle wants to have lunch with me but before that, I have to get everything back on track with my more legal ventures," I said cryptically.

"Why don't you ever tell me what you do?"

"Because it would bore you to death."

"I highly doubt that." She took another small bite. "And lunch with Carlisle? Sounds fun."

"I have no idea what he wants. I'm tempted not to go, but he'd kick my ass."

"Maybe he wants to apologize some more."

"He still thinks he's right. Nothing's ever going to convince him otherwise. I've stopped trying."

"I hope he and Esme can work out whatever's going on."

"What would you do if you were her?" I asked, really wanting to know.

"I would kill you and bury your body in the backyard." She finished up the Pop Tart.

"Nice to know." I took note to never make her seriously pissed. "What about your agenda for the day?"

"I have a job interview at a PR firm and then Alice and I are going shopping."

"Are you going to be home around five? The security people are coming to install the system. I might be late."

"Yeah, I'll be here." She nodded.

Alec stumbled into the kitchen, hair a mess, and in nothing but boxers. He scratched his balls and poured himself a cup of coffee before leaving just as sleepily as he arrived.

I shuddered at the sight of him, but kept my mouth shut. It was too early to start a fight.

"We need to get him a job." Selena went to put her plate in the sink.

"He'll be busy enough once he starts school." I checked my watch and noticed that it was time to go. "Oh, shit. I'm late."

"Wait, wait. I made you lunch." Selena dug through the fridge and pulled out a brown paper bag. "Lasagna, garlic bread, asparagus, and a thermos full of red wine."

I chuckled and took the bag. "Esme made me the same thing on my first day of high school."

"Even the wine?"

"Even the wine. Keep it for dinner. I'm spending lunch with Carlisle, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. I forgot." She placed it on the counter. "Have a good day, Justin. And try to stay on the right side of the law. I don't want to get you from jail."

"Can't make you any promises." I kissed her, but was cut short when my phone vibrated in my breast pocket. Emmett was calling, but I didn't bother picking up. "I have to go."

"Alright, bye."

Before I turned to leave, I wrapped Selena in my arms and set her on the counter, pushing myself in between her legs. I took her lips in mine for a longer, more passion-filled kiss that left my lips raw and my loins on fire.

"Justin, you have to leave now or we'll end up fucking on the table." She panted.

"I'm fine with that."

My phone rang again and I growled at the interruption.

"You should go." She pushed me back slightly, "I love you."

"I…love you too." I replied genuinely. I did love her, we both knew that. I still had problems saying it, even after all these years. I was working on that. Selena was the only person I ever said it to, but I still felt exposed; like she wasn't supposed to see my really feelings. It was complicated.

Time to schedule a therapy session, Justin.

I went through the door in the kitchen that led to the massive garage attached to the house. Gleaming cars of my favorite variety were color coordinated and I could almost hear the rev of their engines in anticipation. One of the first things I did the day after we moved in was purchase new cars for Selena and myself. Now it felt like home.

I chose my brand of choice: a precious, burgundy red, Saleen. The leather seats molded around my body and I turned the car on, feeling the rumble of the engine underneath me. I pulled out of the driveway as fast as I could and sped past a neighbor scowling at me as he picked up his morning paper.

I made it into the city within half an hour and had to navigate my way through thick traffic, but finally made it to the tall, glass tower that held Justin Bieber Inc., right in the middle of the business district. I owned the building, but several other companies were housed there as well. They all paid me the big bucks for prime real estate.

There were cameramen waiting at the entrance to the underground parking lot as I pulled in, and the security guards kept them at bay so I didn't run anybody over. It was to be expected that my first day back on the job would make social headlines.

I parked the car in a designated spot and grabbed my coffee before heading towards the elevators. It didn't take long at all for me to get to the top floor.

When the doors opened, a young, short brunette with crooked teeth stood from behind her tall desk. "Hello, Mr. Bieber. We've been expecting you. Everything's ready in the conference room."

"Okay, thank you." I started to walk off, but then forgot something. "Oh, you're fired."

Her mouth fell open in surprise. "I… I'm what?"

"You're fired," I repeated without a hint of jest.

Her eyes began to tear up and her lips quivered. "But… why? I didn't do anything."

I always hated crying people. They annoyed me. "It's not you. I'm redoing the whole structure of the company. I'm sure you're a great employee, but I don't know you and if I don't know you, I can't trust you. You're fired."

I walked off, taking a sip of my coffee, and headed down the hall to my large office. There was a college-aged kid sitting in the waiting room with a bouncing leg and trembling hands.

He stood when I reached him. "Mr. Bieber? I'm here for the interview."

"I'll be with you in a moment. Just have a seat." I then turned to the other secretary who wasn't even paying attention to me. She was flipping through a magazine. "You're definitely fired."

"Are you talking to me?" She popped her gum.

"Who hired you?" I shook my head in disgust.

"Emmett Bieber. And you are?"

"Justin Bieber. You need to pack and leave before the hour is up."

The gum fell out of her mouth onto the table, and I couldn't even look at her anymore.

I almost had a giddy step to my gait as I walked towards the conference room where a group of about twenty fresh-faced, young, talented, ambitious minds were waiting for the morning meeting. Many of them were newly graduated from top business schools, and they all had wonderful resumes.

When I entered the room, they stood and there were various forms of sycophancy as I set my coffee down on the table.

"Hello." I sat at the head of the long table and the all followed.

"We're happy to have you back, Mr. Bieber." The boy next to me smiled. He must be the higher up of the group. "We never believed what they said about you in the papers. You're a wonderful business man and we're happy to work for you."

"That's very nice of you to say that," I said. "You're all fired."

"I'm sorry, what?" he asked.

"I'm sure my brother hired you all with the promises of happy careers here and advancement in the company, but I can't have any of you working for me. You just don't fit the style here."

"You don't even know us," someone replied from down the table. I wasn't sure whom.

"I know that the quarterly projections have dipped by forty percent since I left and after the first year, they never climbed back up to reasonable standards."

"But… that's to be expected, sir. You left so abruptly and we were all brought on right after," the guy said from next to me.

"Precisely my point. If you were any good, I wouldn't have to fire you for incompetence. Employees are supposed to be able to run a business without the employer. You had four years to prove yourself and all of you came up short."

"This is bullshit," a girl screamed and threw her papers in the air. They rained down over the table as she pushed the door open and left the room. Several more people followed her with various forms of heated words.

Those who did stay just looked at me.

"Is this really happening?" someone asked.

"Yes, I'm sure Emmett would happily give you jobs elsewhere, just not here. You all have the hour to pack and vacate the premises." I got up from my seat and went back towards my office, leaving them stunned and speechless.

I checked my watch. It was already nine and I had annihilated the spirits of my entire business. They were lucky that they had me on a good day. I was off to an excellent start.

It feels good to be back.

"I can see you now," I said to the man sitting on the couch. The secretary had already left. Her letter opener was sticking up in the wood of the desk. I plucked it out and twirled it in my fingers as we walked into my office.

The entire city was below me and the dark clouds cast shadows into the room. I had been here last night to get the place ready for my arrival. The carpets were cleaned, the windows washed, and the technology switched out with newer stuff. No one had stepped in my office since the day I left.

I sat down in the large seat behind my desk and watched him stumble towards the chair in front of me. He must have been about twenty-three and was dressed in a cheap suit made of pedestrian fabric. He was so nervous the sweat was staining his pits.

"I'm sorry if I was late." He kept his head down when he sat.

"I can't hear you." I tapped my fingers on my desk.

"I'm sorry if I was late," he said louder.

"If you want to speak to me, look at me in the eyes and talk clearly."

He raised his head and nodded, shutting his lips tight.

"Do you have a resume?" I asked him.

"Uh, yes." His shaking hands dipped into his briefcase and handed me the flimsy paper.

I scanned it in all of seven seconds, learning everything about his professional past with the snap of my fingers. His name was Mario and he was from a small town in Oklahoma, coming to the big city to make a name for himself. He graduated from business school two years early and had quite the impressive brain. I had called an old professor of mine at Dartmouth I trusted, and he gave me Mario's name.

"You went to Northwestern?" I asked.

"Yes, sir." He spoke loudly and clearly.

"My wife went there."

"So I've heard. She was there a year before I was."

"Are you Italian?"

He blinked in surprise. "Uh, yes. How did you know?"

"With a last name like De Luca, I just assumed."

"Yes, my father was from Lombardy."

"Nice area." I decided that I was going to hire this man, just based on the fact that he was scared of me, but looked willing to work. He was also smart as hell. Not as smart as me, but he'd do. I just wanted to see him sweat some more.

"I haven't been back in years."

"What do you know about what we do here?" I asked him, putting his resume down.

"I know that you work mostly in real estate, not only in Chicago, but Miami and New York as well. You also import vintage cars from England and France. You used to manage hedge funds in business school and made your first million by the time you were eighteen in consulting. You prefer not working in nonprofit and rarely give to charity, but I suggest you start."

"Impressive. Why would you say that?"

"Not for the moral factor, because I know you don't really care, but the tax breaks are huge. Especially for a man making the kind of money you do." He blushed. "Sorry if that was too forward."

"Don't apologize ever. There's no time for it," I told him.

He nodded.

There was a knock at the door and a beautiful blond stuck her head in. "I was told that you wanted to see me."

"Jane, I wasn't expecting you until later," I said and stood up.

"I had a break from work so I decided to come early. You don't have any secretaries." She shut the door and pointed behind her.

"I know," I replied.

She looked almost the same as she did the last time I saw her in the Bahamas. I never thought I would see her again, not that I even paid much attention, but here she was and it was actually kind of surprising to me. Jane was in Chicago working for Rose while she went to school at the University of Chicago. I'm not exactly sure what Rosalie did, but Jane helped. When Alec found out he literally jizzed his pants. I never really got to know Jane, but from what short time that we spent together all those years ago, I could tolerate her and liked what she had to say. I felt comfortable with her. I don't really know why, though. Alice told me that Esme had basically invited her into the family, so she could definitely be trusted.

"You look good, Justin." She looked me up and down and gave me a hug. "I'm glad you're back. It was hell without you."

"So I've heard." I sat back down. Jane took the seat next to Mario, who I had completely forgotten about.

"I lied and told Rosalie I was going out to pick up some copies of something," Jane said. "How's Selena? I haven't seen her yet."

"She's good. Surprised that you're still around."

"I know; me too. I had to get out of Miami, though. My dad was driving me crazy. So I chose Chicago."

"Are you sure you didn't come here for a certain someone?"

She flushed slightly red. "Well he wasn't here anyway so it doesn't matter."

"He's back now."

"That's what Esme told me." She cleared her throat. "I'll have to go see him… later."

"I want you to come work for me," I said simply, getting to the point.

She raised an eyebrow. "I don't know what that means."

"I need you to come work for me as my personal assistant."

"I don't think so."

"I'll triple the pay that Rosalie's giving you."

"I want to work for Rosalie," she argued.

"As her drink girl? What exactly does she do anyway?"

"She's the co-editor of a fashion magazine."

"And that benefits you as a business major how…?"

"How did you know I was a business major?" She sat up in her chair.

I tapped my temple. "You should remember that I know everything."

"Of course." She rolled her eyes. "Well, I don't think so."

"You can learn a lot from me. I can teach you."

"Will I be able to take over this place when you die?" I think she was joking, but it was a valid question.

"Maybe. If I think you're ready. You already know you're going to take the job so how much longer do we have to play these games?"

This was obviously the better option for Jane. She had been working for Rosalie a little under two years now and hadn't done anything besides make coffee. She was perfect for me. She knew about the "family business". Carlisle had entrusted her with a few delicate tasks over the years and said she was incredibly efficient. Jane was bold and quick to come up with solutions. Plus, she could handle my shit and give it right back to me, which was what I was looking for.

She bit her lip in thought. "What am I supposed to tell Rosalie?"

"Let me handle that. Do you want the job or not?"

"Fine." Jane nodded. "When do I start?"

"Right now." I turned to Mario. "This is Jane. She's your boss."

"Hi, Jane." He shook her hand.

"Hi, it's nice to meet you," she replied.

"Jane, you'll be handling my personal life, organizing my charity events, press statements, and family things that I don't have time to deal with. Mario, you'll be dealing with meetings, clerical work, maintaining files, and anything else business related. On a good day, I shouldn't even see you. You'll be too busy with the day-to-day shit that I don't have time for."

"How much are we getting paid?" Jane questioned brazenly with a grin. "Am I allowed to ask that?"

"I would if I were you." I paused. "How about seventy-five thousand a year to start, medical and dental, and if you make it past the first six months, I'll pay off your school debts, which both of you are in up to your eyeballs."

Their breath hitched at my offer. Mario almost fell off of his seat.

"I'm not an easy person to work for so I hope you're prepared." I warned. "I think I've covered everything for now."

I pulled out my wallet and handed Mario five hundred dollars. "Get your hair cut and dye it black. Get your teeth capped and whitened. Buy a nice suit; make sure it's tailored. Actually, I'll get the suit, just handle everything else and come back next week to start."

He took the money in confusion. "Um, thank you? Why do I need all of that stuff?"

"Because you look like a kid. I need you to look professional and ready to work. The people coming through here won't waste their time if they think you're not serious. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir." He swallowed.

I unabashedly pulled my Eagle out of my belt and held it up. Jane didn't bat an eyelash, but Mario shivered. "To me, loyalty is the most important thing. I need to be able to trust you both because I'm letting you into my life. If I find out that either of you have betrayed me in any way, I'll make your lives a living hell."

They both gave me head nods as if to say, we understand.

"Jane, I know I just stole you from Rosalie, but you can't go anywhere else now. You're stuck with me. If anyone comes to you with an offer, you better believe that I'll know about it and I'll nip it in the bud before you even get a chance to think. You're both here for the long run. If you can't handle it, then leave now."

They both nodded again.

"Thank you, sir." Mario's voice stammered.

"No problem. You'll start next week."

He got up from his seat and backed out of the door. I think he was still in shock.

"I thought he was fine." Jane shrugged. "His hair wasn't that bad."

"He looked like shit. He's not working here if he comes back like that. I'll kick his ass to the curve." I leaned in my seat.

"Why him then?"

"Because he's good. He's smart and has an eye for this type of work. He just needs training."

"Do I need training?"

"Of course you do. Let me see you smile."

She beamed cheerily.

"You look fine. Maybe layer and highlight your hair."

"You sure do care about appearances."

"In this business, appearances are all that matters."

"So, I suspect you want me to handle more of the family side of things around here?"

"Yes. Mario is the business assistant; you are my assistant. That involves… the other side of things," I said, knowing she could decipher what I meant.

"I can do that." She stood up from her chair and put on her coat. "I think I'll go see Selena at the end of the day." "She would love to see you. So would Alec, I believe."

"How is he?" She tried not to smile.

"Good, annoying as hell, though. He's grown up."

"Did he talk about me?"

"I'm not getting involved in your high school romance shit. Go ask him yourself."

"Is there anything you need from me?"

"I need a background check on that guy. His name is Mario De Luca." I handed her his resume. "Find out everything you can."

"Done," she said with finality. "Please call Rosalie and make sure she knows about this because I'm not getting in the middle."

"It won't be a problem."

"You'll really pay off my school debt?" She squinted skeptically.

"Yes."

"That's very generous of you. Thank you."

"You'll be working for it so don't thank me yet." I turned on my computer.

"This is going to be fun," Jane said sarcastically as she walked towards the door. "I'll be back later. Where is my desk, by the way?"

"The one right outside my office. Mario will be down the hall."

"Sounds good to me. I'll have that background check in an hour."

"Oh, and I fired everyone who used to work here. Find out who they were from Emmett and send them all a severance package."

"Will do, boss." She shut the door and left me alone.

I turned around in my chair and looked at the city below. It was starting to rain, and the skyscrapers were slick with water.

The phone on my desk started to ring. I hit the speakerphone button.

"You have about fifty calls out here," Jane said.

"From who?"

"A lot from Emmett. Some from the people who worked here. A couple from the Chicago Tribune and Carlisle."

"Put me through to Carlisle. Then call Mario and tell him that he starts work the day after tomorrow. He needs to look good by then."

"Any reason for the new start date?"

"It'll just be us three until I find more people. That shouldn't take long, maybe a couple days, but he needs to be here. You can't deal with all that alone."

"Okay, then. Will do." The phone clicked off, and then started ringing again.

Carlisle picked up a couple seconds later. "Justin, I've been calling for an hour. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I've been busy." I shut my eyes to keep the frustration inside. "It is my first day back at work."

"I know. How is that going for you?"

"Wonderful. I feel good."

"I'm impressed. Emmett called me and said you already did a full overhaul of everyone."

"Sure did. Only have Jane and a new guy now."

"Jane? You better call Rosalie then."

"Why does everyone think I'm scared of her?"

"I'm just trying to keep the peace in the family. Carry on. Don't forget about lunch. I have something important to talk to you about."

"Can I get a hint?"

"I'll see you at one, Justin." He ended the call quickly.

By midday, the full force of my workload hit me. It was apparent that I might need Mario back a little earlier than I anticipated. There was a lot of office work that required tending to and I sure as hell wasn't doing it.

He stumbled into my office right before I was about to leave for lunch, out of breath and waiting for orders.

"Let me see your teeth. Did you get them done?" I asked.

"Not the back ones. We didn't have time. I had to leave early to get back here." He smiled and showed off his newly whitened and perfectly straight teeth.

"Get that hair taken care of by the next time I see you." I couldn't even look at him.

"Yes, sir."

I set a stack of files in his hands. "These are newly graduated business majors from all over the country. I need you to weed out anyone with a lower GPA than you."

"But… I was first in my class."

"Exactly. There might be two candidates in there. Call them and set up interviews for tomorrow morning."

"I can do that."

Jane poked her head in the office. "Time to get to lunch. You can't be late."

"I'm coming!" I shouted and then turned back to Mario. "Have that done by the time I'm back. Your desk is at the end of the hall."

"Okay, thank you."

I followed him out of the office. "No one gets in while I'm out," I told both of them. "If someone wants to set up a meeting, they can call for tomorrow. I'm not seeing anyone today."

"We get it. Just go." Jane all but pushed me towards the elevators.

It was a big deal entrusting them to keep things in order, but as I glided down the floors, I convinced myself that this was why I hired them. They were both ambitious enough to want to do hard work and keep me happy.

I would normally walk to the place Carlisle liked for lunch, but with the cameramen outside, still demanding answers from me, I decided it was better to drive. It took longer than it should have, with all the traffic and stupid ass people who all seemed to have forgotten how to drive since I returned. I parked behind a small, rustic Italian restaurant down the street.

The place was empty and I wasn't surprised in the slightest, even though it was in the height of the lunch hour. Carlisle obviously needed privacy today and meant business. I didn't even see a busboy or hostess.

He was at a table in the corner and didn't even bother standing or acknowledging me when I sat down. He kept reading his paper for about a minute and then folded it neatly when he was done.

"And how are you today?" He set the paper on the floor.

"Fine." I searched for a waiter. "I need a drink."

A waiter appeared out of nowhere and poured me a tall glass of red wine. "Anything else for you, sir?" he asked.

"We'll just have our meals now," Carlisle spoke for me. "I ordered you spaghetti."

"That's fine with me." I shrugged.

After the waiter scurried off, Carlisle and I had a good ole' fashioned, Western stare off. There were no words, but I was determined not to let him win.

"Is there a reason why I'm here?" I asked, not letting myself falter.

"Of course there is. Why would I have invited you to lunch?"

"I'm not sure."

"I don't have a lot of time, so I'll just get out with it." Carlisle leaned forward, exhaling deeply. "Justin, I'm retiring."

"You're doing what?" I choked on my wine.

"I'm taking time off… indefinitely."

"Wh… what does that mean… for the family?"

"That we need a new Boss."

"Carlisle, I…"

"Can I confess something, Justin?" he asked.

I nodded.

"I've let you guys down. I know that over the past couple of years, things haven't been as smooth as they should have been and I take full responsibility for that. Between me sending you away, and everything that's been going on here, I've lost my way. I got so bogged down in minute details that I wasn't looking at the big picture. I've let everyone down."

I really wanted to assure him that that wasn't the case, but my mouth wouldn't let me.

"The Cullens need to be taken in a new direction and I'm not the one to do it, Justin. You and I both know that. My reign was exhausted a long time ago."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that I'm stepping down. I've been doing this for far too long and you could only imagine what kind of shit I'm in with Esme. I need to take time off to patch things up with her. She's agreed to take a vacation with me. We need to get away and nothing's going to get done with us here in Chicago. I don't know when we're coming back."

It didn't take a genius to put together what Carlisle was saying. I just didn't want to believe it.

"How long have been thinking this?" I cleared my throat.

"For about a year," he admitted. "Things are changing out there and I know you haven't had the chance to really dive into that side of your life since you've been back, but the Cullens need a new director. We need you, Justin."

"Is that why you brought me back here?"

"I'm not going to lie to you. Yes, I asked you to return so that you could take my position. I'll be around to guide you and help you, but I won't be the head of this family anymore." He crossed his hands together in an effort to appear calm.

"That's not fair!" I slammed my fist down on the table, shaking the glasses and silverware on top. "You didn't give me any kind of warning. I'm not prepared for this, especially not now."

"Did you think all the time on that stupid island was just for you to sit around and sleep? You're more mature now than you ever were here. You know why? Because you were your own man. You weren't living in my shadow and you were able to thrive on your own. You're ready for this. I trained you for this."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Did you want to stay Il Principe forever?"

"Why not Emmett or Jasper?"

"It's never been either of them. You were always supposed to take my spot and just because you had a break, doesn't mean you can forget about your obligations to this family."

"And what about my family? Selena shouldn't have to ever be a part of this."

"Well, there's nothing we can do about that. She's in far too deep and I'm sorry about that, but I warned you a long time ago that this might happen. You should have prepared yourself for the possibility that more than likely, you'd be in my shoes."

"This is happening too quickly. I just got back. You couldn't give me some fucking warning?"

"That's what this is. You know the rules. There are certain… stipulations that need to be taken care of."

"I don't want to talk about that."

"You have to be married, Justin. You can't take over unless you have a wife."

"We were already heading in that direction," I snapped. "I don't need you meddling in my life."

"That's my job and like it or not, you have a responsibility that needs to be fulfilled."

"Do I even have a choice?"

"No, you don't. Esme and I are leaving the first week of April. That gives you a month to get your shit together. Talk to Selena, do what needs to be done, and then all of what I have will be yours."

Just then, the waiter rushed out of the kitchen with a heaping plate of steaming spaghetti, but I had suddenly lost my appetite.

"My life will never be the same," I said to myself.

I made a checklist in my head.

1. Get married...very soon.

2. Take over the largest crime family in the world.

This was turning out to be a great month.

SELENA POV

"It is easy to take freedom for granted, when you have never had it taken from you."-Author Unknown

All things Twilight related belong to Stephanie Meyer

I slipped my foot gently into the supple lining of my nude colored pump, which Alice insisted I wear today.

I had little experience in journalism, but the job description at WGN TV station didn't call for it. I would basically be a part of the production team, behind the scenes. I had already done a first interview earlier in the week and then got a callback for today.

The job title was production assistant, and I'd be responsible for cutting together news segments, preparing commercial breaks and typing things into the teleprompter. It seemed like an incredibly technical job, but when I called to inquire about an interview, the lady said my background would be fine for it. I didn't know what a bachelor's degree in literature had to do with TV, but I was excited nonetheless. Plus, there was the added bonus of Alice being nearby since she worked in wardrobe.

I stood up from the bed and checked myself in the mirror on the wall. I looked very professional in my high-waisted cream skirt and silky red top. The shoes were more dangerous than what I would have chosen, but it worked. I wasn't going to complain. I brushed my hair quickly, putting it in a loose bun at the nape of my neck, before doing final touch ups.

I checked my bag, making sure I had copies of my resume, and everything else I might need for the interview.

I made it downstairs and found Alec reading a gun magazine in the kitchen.

I sniffed the air when I walked in. "What's that smell?"

He shrugged. "I don't smell anything."

I rushed over to the toaster, which had bread stuffed inside, and pulled the plug when smoke started to billow upwards. "You forgot you were making something?"

"Oh, yeah. My peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Damn it." He took the charcoaled bread out and inspected it. "Can I still eat it?"

"Be my guest." I went into the fridge and poured myself some orange juice. "Are you ready for your first day of school?"

"I don't want to go."

"You know the rules."

"Still, I can get a job anywhere without even needing a degree. I don't want to go." He plopped back down in his seat.

"Don't be nervous. I'm sure the other kids will like you if you play nice." I sat next to him.

"Ha, ha. Very funny."

This was his first day at Northwestern and I didn't know the details, but Justin had to pull some strings. Since the semester had already started, Alec couldn't just walk into class. He had to be transferred, but Alec had never gone to school before. There was a big thing with fake records, and Carlisle had to sign a bunch of stuff; I didn't get into it. Anyway, Alec was now a college freshman, and even though he wouldn't tell me, he was nervous as hell.

I checked the clock. "Shouldn't you get going? Your first class is starting soon."

"I guess so. What if I'm not as smart as the other people there? They've been going to school for years."

"You know you have a smart brain, so use it."

He nodded and exhaled, "You're right. I'm fucking amazing."

"And so modest." I rolled my eyes.

"I'm going to rock the shit out of that place." He kissed my cheek and then bolted from the table. "Bye, Selena. I'll be back this afternoon."

I watched from the window as he pulled out of the garage in his new black Range Rover and peeled onto the street, going entirely too fast. I would have to talk to him about that later.

It still wasn't time for me to leave, so I read the paper and tried not to get too nervous. Alice said I would probably get the job if I didn't do anything crazy like burn the studio down or jump on tables. I was determined to get this job.

I wondered if I should call Justin. It was nine and he left the house to go to work at five, so I knew he was tired as hell. He had been acting really strange for the past couple of days and wouldn't tell me much, but I was hoping that he told me something soon. If not, I was going to start demanding answers. He was working hard, though, and every day, I would check the stocks of Justin Bieber Inc., which were steadily rising. The Chicago Tribune called him a mastermind in the business world. His return was causing waves across the city.

And since he was back, of course, everyone knew I was back as well. We had been photographed a couple of times, but surprisingly nothing major had happened. I was just hoping that Charlie or Renee hadn't heard anything before I got the chance to call them. I just needed to think of way of doing that.

The family was coming around, though. Rose, Alice, and I spent a couple of days just getting back in touch with each other. I liked having friends again. It was something so simple that I didn't realize I craved until I got back here. Being able to see people on a regular basis was a luxury that I wouldn't take for granted again. Esme, on the other hand, still wasn't speaking to Carlisle and I wasn't speaking to her. She was cold towards everyone else. She was furious on the occasions I went over to the house, but Carlisle said she had agreed to go on an extended vacation at the end of the month. I didn't know what he had planned, but I hoped it was something good. They had a lot to discuss and somewhere safe to do it. Preferably somewhere without heavy things that Esme could throw.

I wasn't mad at her really. I just wanted an apology for what she had said to me. I still think she hit way below the belt with her comments, but as of yet, she hadn't said a word.

After I finished the paper, I sat at the kitchen island, sipping my coffee and trying to plan out my day. Justin told me to come by and meet him for lunch if I had time, but after that, I was free. I guessed I could go grocery shopping since we needed more of everything. Between Alec and Justin, they could go through two pizzas each in one sitting, leaving me with nothing. It was scary.

I stopped drinking my coffee when I heard a slight scratching at the front door. I listened again, but it wasn't there. A couple seconds later, though, it returned. It almost sounded like branches against the house, but then there was a low whine to accompany it.

I put the cup down and made my way to the door, my heels clicking on the hardwood. I looked through the peephole, but didn't see anyone. The scratching was still there.

I opened the door and surveyed the front yard, but it was clear. The whine at my feet alerted me to the dog standing on the step, trembling. It was an English bulldog; the only reason I recognized it was because a neighbor of Charlie's had one. I used to watch him when she was out of town. He was a nasty beast.

"Oh." I stepped back a little and noticed that this dog was in bad shape.

There was a slight nip in the air, but it wasn't cold, so I assumed he was shaking because of fright. He was a big dog, but I could tell that he was just a puppy—maybe a year old. I saw his ribs through his tanned fur. There was blood on his paws, almost as if he had been walking on glass.

"Hi." I bent down and reached my hand out hesitantly. He didn't jerk away, but flinched slightly when I touched him. Then he leaned into my hand. "What happened to you?"

Those big brown eyes were what did me in.

"You can't stay here. Justin hates animals, especially dogs." I shook my head and continued petting him. "He'll kick both our asses."

The bulldog didn't seem to care. He sidestepped me and, with a slight limp, trotted into the house like it was his.

"Excuse me." I shut the door and chased after him. He seemed to know where the food was, because he went right into the kitchen. "I don't think I have anything for you."

He sat down on the tiled floor and stared up at the refrigerator expectantly.

"There's no dog food in there. I think I should clean you up first, anyway." I dampened a washcloth with warm water. "I'm not a vet, but you look like crap."

I bent down and started washing off his face. A thick coat of dirt came up, showing the white of his muzzle. I ended up having to rinse the cloth out a few times before he looked clean. The blood on his paws was a different story. I had to use the first-aid kit and just treated them like human wounds. I didn't know what had happened, but it didn't look major; just a few scrapes so I put some rubbing alcohol on them before wrapping his paws in gauze. He didn't like that very much.

He kept nipping at his feet, trying to pull the wrappings away.

"Stop it," I told him, "you have to leave them on."

I'm talking to this dog like he's a human. I really do need more friends.

I had to leave soon, so I couldn't really get creative with food. I just pulled out packaged lunch meat and fed the dog a couple pieces of ham. He drank water greedily from a bowl I put on the floor and was happily licking his chops when he was done.

"Are you potty trained?" I asked him. "You don't even know what that means."

He wanted to explore the house, but I had to go, so I pushed him outside onto the porch and left lots of water. The backyard was massive but enclosed with a tall wooden fence, so I knew he would be free to roam without running away. He just stared at me through the glass of the back door as I locked it and grabbed my keys along with everything else I needed.

Justin had bought us all cars with the only stipulation being that whatever I chose couldn't be less than twenty thousand dollars. He said that he didn't want to "muck up his perfect garage with filth". I decided on a basic BMW. The only color they had in stock at the time was red, which I found a little too flashy, but took it anyway. I had to admit that I loved driving the car. It was a lot different from the beat up Chevy back in Forks.

The ride into the city was easy. I didn't have any trouble until I hit traffic, but it only slowed me down a little. I gave myself plenty of time so I arrived at the studio half an hour before my interview. I parked in the garage and grabbed my bag before walking quickly into the sleek building. It was only a couple blocks away from Justin's office actually, but I had never been here before.

The lobby was stylish and modern with marble under my feet. I went up to the reception desk and an over-joyous woman smiled up at me.

"Welcome to WGN, Chicago's number one TV station. How can I help you?"

"I'm here for the production assistant position. I have an interview with Mr. Grandy at ten."

"Of course. He's expecting you, but he's in a meeting right now, so you can take a seat and I'll let him know you're here."

"Thank you."

I sat down in a plush leather chair that engulfed my body so much that I had to stop myself from sinking into the seat.

Apparently, the receptionist was either lying or wasn't correctly informed because almost a minute after I got situated, a tall, white haired man came out to greet me.

"Isabella Bieber?" he asked with an outstretched hand.

"Yes." I stood up and shook it.

Of course, my last name wasn't Bieber… yet. But Justin had put it on all my fake records and papers so that's what I went by now. I didn't mind in the slightest.

"You're here just in time. Let's go to my office so we can talk."

I had met with the human resources department first and they pushed me along to Mr. Grandy. I followed him into the back, bypassing frantic looking people. His office was a mess. There were papers everywhere and food containers stacking up. From the art hanging on his walls, I could tell that Mr. Grandy was a very eccentric man.

"So, let me just be perfectly honest," he began when we sat down. "I really liked you in the first interview and I think you'll work well here. Your resume is more than satisfactory, so you have the job. I just want to ask you a few questions."

"Of course." I tried not to smile too brightly.

I had a job! That was easy.

"So, have you ever worked in TV before?" he asked.

"No, but I have taken a few journalism classes in college."

"This is more of a technical position, as you could probably guess, but we can teach you all of that. Sorry it's such a mess in here, by the way. We've had a busy couple of weeks."

"I could only imagine."

"Your husband is causing quite the stir and is helping us all keep the ratings up."

I bit my cheek, stopping myself from saying something stupid. "I didn't realize."

"Well, when Chicago's favorite son returns from the dead, that's doesn't go unnoticed." He grinned.

"Is that the only reason I'm getting this job?" I asked. "I'm not going to talk about my personal life, so I'm sorry if you thought you were going to get any dirt…"

"No, no." He held his hands up. "Of course not. We're not a gossip station. I really do need to fill the position and Alice said wonderful things about your work ethic. It's just an added bonus that you happen to be somewhat of a local superstar."

"I hardly think that people really know who I am."

"Just the contrary. You've created quite the social uproar, but enough about that for now. Would you like the job?"

"Of course. When can I start?"

"Well, we won't need you every day since this will be a part-time job at first. You'll know your schedule about a week in advance, based on who else is working. You'd get here probably around five so that you can start getting things ready for the seven o' clock news. You'll be working under a man named Alistair. I'll take you to meet him in a minute, but he'll teach you all you need to know. Is that alright?"

"That's perfect."

"It's a pretty simple job once you know what you're doing, but please pay attention because there are a lot of little things that you need to know. Are you ready for the tour?"

I nodded and stood up when he did.

Mr. Grandy took me around the studio, where they were getting ready for the midday news segment. The last minute rush was exciting, and I tried to stay out of everyone's way. I met Alistair, who was a stocky man with a very focused face. I don't think I saw him smile once in the time that I watched him work. There was a girl there who did the job that I would be doing later in the week. She explained a few things and let me try out running the teleprompter. By the time the tour was over, I had a thorough understanding of my job.

I was told to come back in two days to start working. I still was kind of pissed that Mr. Grandy brought up Justin, but I knew that was going to happen. People talked about me when I passed them on the streets and pointed when Justin and I went out to dinner. I just kept my head down and acted like it didn't bother me. I just needed to get used to this. Rosalie told me it would be that way for a while until the shock wore off.

I drove to Justin's office, and the guard checked my ID before I could park. Security was tight and I didn't even check behind me for blatantly obvious bodyguards. I was sure they were there.

I rode the elevator up to the top floor and walked out into a very stylish lobby. I had never actually been to Justin's office, but he pointed it out when we drove past one day.

I went up to the front desk, where a man with black hair and pearly white teeth was stressing over his computer, typing furiously. He couldn't have been any older than me. The nameplate on the desk said his name was Mario. I knew about this guy; Justin's new protégée.

Mario raised his head when he heard me approaching. "Hi, do you have an appointment?" he asked.

"No, I'm Selena Bieber. I was supposed to meet Justin for lunch."

"Oh, of course." He stood up so fast that his chair fell backwards. "I didn't realize. I'm Mario."

"It's nice to meet you Mario. I've heard good things about you."

"Really?" His eyes went wide.

I nodded, "Justin seems to like you."

"I'm trying really hard. This is my first job out of college and this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, so I'm working my ass off…Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to curse."

"It's alright. I've heard worse."

"Um, you can go back if you want." Mario clumsily picked up his chair.

"Thank you." I walked backwards, "And don't take anything he says personal. Justin is just…feisty."

Mario smiled and nodded vigorously.

I passed young-looking associates carrying stacks of papers. Everyone seemed to be on their cellphones. I strolled down the hall and almost started running when I saw Jane sitting at the desk in front of a massive set of doors.

She saw me too and popped up, grabbing me in a hug before I could even blink. "Oh, thank God. I can't believe you're really here."

I had met Jane for a quick second on that faithful trip to Miami, but even in that short amount of time, I knew I liked her. Plus she made Alec happy, so I couldn't argue with that.

"It's good to see you. I didn't think you'd stick around."

"Well, you know the Cullens. Once you're in, you're in." She shrugged. "You look fabulous."

"Thank you. You look good yourself. When Justin told me he hired you, I thought he was joking."

"Unfortunately, no. He's working me to death. All of us, really. I don't think anyone's slept in a week."

"I can see that." I looked around at the haggard employees who almost walked like zombies.

"But he pays out of the ass," Jane whispered. "He's so fucking generous."

"He can be that way sometimes." I smiled at his kindness. "Justin doesn't like to show it, but it's there."

"Well, it was nice seeing you again. I'm always around Alice and Rose so we'll bump into each other soon, I'm sure." Jane went back behind her desk and picked up the phone that was ringing furiously. "He has someone, but you can go in."

"I don't want to disturb him."

"No, he told me to send you in."

"Oh, okay. I'll see you later, then."

She waved, and began talking on the phone.

I up to the large doors and knocked. Justin answered, and I peeked into the room. He was behind his desk with his glasses on, talking to a younger man who was writing feverishly on a pad.

"This is my wife, Selena," Justin introduced me to the man. After so many years as playing his fake wife, I didn't even think twice about it now.

The guy stood up and shook my hand. "It's nice to meet you."

"You too. I'm sorry if I interrupted something."

"No, he was just leaving." Justin took off his glasses. "I need those shipping details before you leave today."

"Yes, sir." The man collected his things and hurried out of the door.

"Wow, I'm impressed." I sat in the seat opposite Justin.

"Do you like my empire?" He held his hands out. "Built from the ground up."

"You sure do run a tight ship."

"I have to if I want to get back on top."

"You're killing them all." I pointed behind me at the door. "They look like shit out there. You don't look too much better."

"We can sleep when we're dead." He got up from his chair and came to stand in front of me. "Would you like me to order us lunch?"

"Are you too busy?"

"Not for another hour."

"Okay, then." I stood up and kissed the hell out of him because I really wanted to. There was something incredibly sexy about watching him work, especially in his glasses.

I twisted my hands around his tie and pulled him impossibly closer to my body. His lips were filled with the urgency that I needed and the softness that he always held for me.

Justin pulled back after a couple of seconds. "My hour is slowly slipping away."

"Right." I nodded.

He sniffed the air and then scrunched up his nose, "Selena, don't take this the wrong way, but you smell like a dog."

I stopped myself from saying anything and wryly smiled. I still hadn't figured out what I was going to do about the dog at home, but I would figure it out before he knew anything was up.

"Maybe it's the fabric softener. I'll have to switch brands." I sniffed my coat dramatically. "How about lunch?"

"Good. I'm starving."

Justin called Jane and ordered food while I sat down on the sofa near the window. He hung up and stretched out next to me with his feet on the coffee table in front of us.

"Food should be here in about five minutes. The kitchen's just downstairs."

"Long day?" I asked.

"Incredibly long and it's not even halfway over yet." He rested his head on the back of the sofa and closed his eyes.

"Don't work yourself too hard," I warned.

"There's no way around that, Selena. This is my life now."

"At least you're not doing anything illegal at the moment."

"There will be more of that later. Don't worry." He chuckled, but there was something off about the sound. Almost as if it was apprehensive. "How did your interview go?"

"I got the job. I start in a couple of days."

"Well, congratulations. I knew you'd get it."

I rested my head on his lap and turned over so that I stared up at the ceiling. "My boss talked about you quite a lot."

"Of course he did. He's in local television. There's nothing else to talk about. I just returned from the grave."

"I hope it doesn't turn into a problem later."

"Just tell me if it does. I'll take care of it."

I almost felt like falling asleep, but there was a knock on the door and the smell of chicken brought me back to life. A chef rolled a cart into the room with covered trays and a bottle of wine. He set everything out on the coffee table and uncovered a nice lunch of risotto, chicken, and steamed vegetables.

"Anything else, sir?" he asked.

"No, this is fine." Justin took off his jacket. "Thank you."

"Very well, then."

Right before he was about to leave the room, Justin cleared his throat. "Excuse me. What temperature was this chicken cooked at?"

"I fired it over the grill at four hundred degrees."

"Take this back and do it again at three seventy, make sure the skin is crispy but not burned, and light on the salt." Justin handed him the plate. A smile crept on my face when I realized that I made my chicken that way.

"I'm sorry about that, sir." He rushed out of the room.

I cut my chicken and took a bite. "Tastes good to me." I fed him a piece.

He chewed on it and scrunched up his face. "It tastes like rubber and that is not how I eat mine."

"I think you're being a little overdramatic. Did you have to be so mean?"

"At least now, every time I order food, it'll be done perfectly."

"There's always the silver lining," I replied sarcastically. "Haven't you ever heard that you catch more flies with honey than vinegar?"

"Of course I have, but what happens when you get the flies? Who wants them? I'd prefer bees, then I can train them to sting whoever I wanted."

I shouldn't have been surprised that Justin had that kind of logic in his head.

Once his food was brought back, we started eating and fell into easy conversation about the day. It was all incredibly delicious and I couldn't help myself as I stuffed my face. I stayed away from the wine though. It tasted…off.

Justin's phone kept ringing, but he shut it off after about ten minutes. I found it incredibly sweet that he wanted to spend time with me, even though he was busy. Of course, that didn't stop him from yelling at that kid, Mario, for asking a simple question. Justin was ruthless and, of course, I knew that, but I sometimes forgot he only had a melted heart with me. It was such a switch to see him in business mode.

I really wanted to know how Alec's day at school was going, but Justin convinced me not to text him.

"Maybe we should have waited a year," I said and played with the piece of chocolate cake on my plate.

"You baby him too much," Justin replied. "He's a grown man."

"But he's not," I argued. "He's been locked up his whole life, and then thrown into this world with no warning. He's still young."

"I know, but we need to step back a little."

"One year," I said, mostly to myself.

"That's the plan."

Justin suddenly got very fidgety, and his tics started becoming more present. He twisted his neck from side to side in an effort to crack it and his right shoulder would twitch a little; all clear signs that something heavy was on his mind.

I put my fork down. "Alright, out with it."

"Out with what?"

"Is there something you need to say?"

"No," he replied quickly. "Actually, yes. I need to talk to you about something." He cleared his throat.

"Okay." I didn't like the sound of that.

"Um, so I had lunch with Carlisle the other day."

"Right, you never told me how that went."

"It went… well, I guess. We talked about a few things."

I nodded in understanding, but kept quiet.

"So, he asked me a very important question." Justin rubbed the back of his neck.

"Which was?" I prompted.

He sighed deeply. "He wanted to know if… I was ready to lead the family."

It took me a minute to understand what that meant and all I could come up with was, "Oh."

"Yeah, he said that he's leaving me everything at the end of the month. I would inherit his legacy, and then be expected to create my own. I would be in charge of everyone, our whole cosca. I don't have a lot of time to make a decision."

"What happens if you say no?" I whispered.

"Then it'll go to Emmett or Jasper. They'll run us into the ground, though."

"We both know what your answer is." I played with the napkin in my lap. "Weren't you just talking about how you wanted to be your own man and make a name for yourself?"

He nodded slowly. "True, but I was thinking in about a year when I had my footing back."

I had been preparing myself for this day ever since I met Justin. I knew it was on the horizon. It was a common fact that Justin was to take over the family at some point. He had been "training" for almost his entire life. He was ready. The only thing that didn't sit right with me was his safety. He would be put in more dangerous situations, but I guess I would have to get over my anxiousness.

Now wasn't the time to show my discomfort with the conversation so I took his hand. "The mafia is a very intricate machine, but it needs a strong leader and there's no one better than you. You can do this."

Justin flinched at the word "mafia". He always did and told me that it wasn't the true term for what the Cullens had. He was right. They ran what was more like a small country. Mafia just didn't suit their operation.

"Selena, I need to know what you're thinking. This won't affect just my life. This is our life."

"Does it really matter what I say?"

"Yes, it does," he assured me. "I need to know that you're alright with this. Our freedoms are gone. Our life will be turned upside down and I need to know if you're ready."

"Justin, I came to terms with your job a long time ago. I know what you do and I'm not afraid of the life you live. If you're asking me to tell you what to, then you're out of luck. I'm not going to do that."

"Selena, your life will never be the same after this…"

"Stop trying to warn me. I know what I got myself into."

His forehead crumpled in thought for a second, and then the look of determination overshadowed any feeling of doubt or uncertainty.

"I'm going to tell him yes, then. I'm going to take over."

I squeezed his hand for reassurance.

He spoke quietly. "I have so many ideas and so much I want to accomplish. It's going to be a new fucking dynasty for the Cullens and I hope everyone's prepared for it. I want this…badly. I just don't want it to affect you."

"Justin, this has already affected me and I'm okay with that. I'm not going anywhere now."

He nodded, "There's not going back for me."

"This is what you want, so do it."

"I…there's also something else."

"Oh, God." I groaned. I didn't know how much more I could take today, "I think I'm more prepared for this than you are." I joked.

"Probably." He chuckled.

"So what is it?"

Justin shook his head, "Um, nothing. I'll tell you later."

"Are you sure? It sounded important." I egged him on.

He shook his head again.

I decided to let that go.

"Can I set some rules?" I moved closer to him. "I know you're going to be the big boss and everything, but there are limits."

"What did you have in mind?"

"You can't bring your work home," I said pointedly. "Deal with everything you need to here, in this office. I'm not going to have mob chiefs and drug lords running through my house."

He took a long sip of wine. "I think I can do that."

"And you have to be home for breakfast every morning; promise me." My voice held a sense of urgency for his answer.

Justin looked at me with confusion on his face.

"Well, when Charlie used to have to go out at night for work, he used to tell me that if he wasn't home for breakfast then something was wrong, but until then not to worry about it," I explained. "Every morning he was there and we would eat before I went to school. You have to have breakfast with me unless you're out of town or something like that."

He slid his hand behind my neck and brought me closer, our lips almost touching, "Those are very agreeable terms. I can do that."

"I just want to know that you're okay."

He nodded. "I completely understand, but I have a few rules of my own."

"Really?"

He thought for a second. "Just one."

"I think I can handle it."

"If I get a call in the middle of the night to handle something, you can't ask me what it is."

"Wha…?" He cupped his mouth over my hand to stop my words.

"When I get back from a job, you can ask all the questions you want and I'll answer them honestly. But before, you can't question me about a thing. Do you understand?"

I bobbed my head up and down. He slowly dropped his hand.

"I'm being generous because I know how much you want this and I won't stand in your way. Just be safe and come home to me," I said.

Justin pulled me the rest of the way and kissed me tenderly. After a second, it became more heated, his tongue pushed into my mouth and found a way to make me quiver in pleasure. His hands began pushing my skirt up on the outside of my nylons. I tried to keep things PG with the kissing, but when I heard his throaty moan in response to me biting his lip, I couldn't help myself.

I dragged him down by using his shirt until we were lying flat and started undoing his buttons so that I could feel the hair on his broad chest.

"Selena, I don't have time to fuck you right now, but I really want to." His lips moved to my neck.

"Tell me what you'd do," I encouraged. "Tell me right now."

"I'd come into the office and you're be sitting right here, on this leather couch waiting for me. Your legs are slightly parted, and with each step I take, you continue to spread your legs entirely too slowly until they are open for me completely." He was panting as if we were actually enacting this scene, and I shut my eyes to envision it, letting the fire start to build.

"You're only in your panties. Black, no blue ones with lace and I can't wait to run my hands over your fucking creamy thighs until you start shaking, begging me to go higher."

"What shirt do I have on?" I rolled my hips upwards, trying to create friction as he devoured my collar bone and popped off buttons on my blouse.

"Fuck a shirt. Just a bra and your nipples are hard," he continued. "Can you feel it, Selena?"

I nodded silently, my mouth opened to speak, but couldn't. Justin ground into me roughly, moving his kisses towards my chest.

"I stand in front of you, looking down and your legs part even wider in anticipation. Just the sight of you is making me hard and you reach out to grab my dick."

I was in desperate need of release by this point, but Justin wouldn't let me have an inch of pleasure. He would pull back and separate our pelvises just at the precipice of desire.

He took my hand and guided it down his body, from chest to waist, to cock. It filled my palm and only spurred him further.

"Shit, Selena, I like your hand on me," he whispered and nipped at my ear lobe.

"Keep going," I begged him.

"I kneel in front of you, and dip my head between your legs, trailing kisses slowly up your thighs. I got higher until get to your panties and feel the rough lacy fabric against the pad of my tongue as I lick your slit."

"Take of my fucking panties," I growled. "In the dream… take them off," I quickly amended. I was so clouded with lust that reality and fantasy were blurring.

"Alright. I take off your panties and throw them to the side so that I can see you fully. And finally I get to taste all of you. I move my tongue inside of you, slowly, trying to savor it."

Justin's cock was pushing against my hand and I tried to rub him, but he stopped me.

"Just worry about yourself. I want you to feel me," he said. "When I can't take it anymore, I throw you over the back of the couch and ram into you from behind." Justin brought his full weight down in between my legs and I gasped as his dick almost split me in half even from the outside.

I imagined him filling me from behind, inch by inch. Lights flashed behind my eyes, my skin heated to the point of fire, and I lost all form of coherent thought.

"Finish it," I pleaded.

"I reach around and rub you furiously while I'm fucking you, and you fall apart right over this couch as you cum like a geyser."

His words brought my release and I stopped myself from yelling obscene things into the air, reminding my mouth that Jane was right outside the door. Justin shuddered above me ,and I felt his release through the fabric of his pants.

Sweet baby Jesus and all the apostles in Heaven.

I stilled and had to draw in breath so ruggedly that it burned my throat. Neither of us said anything for a couple of minutes, just revealing in our post coital shock.

"For all that, we should have just fucked." Justin kissed my neck.

"No, that was so much hotter."

"I love you Selena, and thank you." He whispered against my skin.

"For what?"

"For being understanding and for…just being here. You're still here."

"I told you I wasn't running away. Have a little more faith in me." I pushed on his chest slightly, an indication for him to get up. "Everything we just did, by the way, was completely hot."

"A little afternoon delight never hurt anyone." He closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. "Please come back anytime you wish."

I left his office half an hour later on wobbly legs, but tried to act like there wasn't anything wrong. Jane just smirked as I passed her, not saying a word. I had to take a minute to calm down in the car because there was no way I could drive in this state. My body was still reacting to that mind-blowing orgasm in the same way it did when I first met him. I prayed to God that the fire never died.

On the way home, outside of the city, I stopped off at a local grocery store to pick up a few things for dinner, and then remembered that I had an extra mouth to feed. I got the smallest bag of dog food I could find, and then put it back, opting for the larger bag instead. I decided that I was going to keep the bulldog at home. He didn't have a tag so that made him free, right?

By the time I pulled up in the driveway, Alec's car was back, and I called him out to help me with the groceries.

"Did you know there's a fat dog in the backyard?" he asked me, chomping on chips when he came to the back of my car.

"He's not fat, and yes. I put him there before I left. He didn't chew through the fence or anything, did he?"

"No, he's still there and totally fucking awesome. Where did you find him? What's his name?" Alec asked rapidly as we carried the things inside.

"He was on our doorstep. He just walked right in." I put the groceries on the countertop. Alec plopped the big bag of dog food on the floor.

"Do we have to put up signs to see if his owner will call?"

"I didn't think about that. Should we?"

"Maybe not yet. Why does he look so sick?" Alec sat on a stool.

"I don't know, but obviously whoever was taking care of him didn't want him. He looked horrible."

"I changed the stuff on his paws. They started bleeding again."

"Poor dog."

"What's his name?"

"Um… Francis," I said out of nowhere. I picked the name because I had this teacher in high school that looked like a bulldog. His name was Francis. It just seemed to fit.

"Sweet! I'm letting him in." Alec ran off to open the backdoor.

I heard the soft padding of paws and a second later, Francis licked at my ankles.

"Hi." I picked him up. He wasn't too heavy; cubby certainly, but not fat. I noticed that he was damp and smelled like my strawberry shampoo. "You washed him?"

"Yeah, he smelled like shit. Now look at him." Alec scratched behind Francis' small, floppy ears. "He's a stud."

"Do you think Justin will let us keep him?" I asked.

"No," Alec laughed, "hell no. He would rather die than live in a house with animals."

"Maybe we can hide him for a while. Just don't tell Justin yet."

The rest of the day, I made sure that Francis was okay. Maybe it wasn't that smart to keep a strange dog, but I was really getting attached. I set up a couple pillows and blankets inside of the dryer and put him in there to sleep until I figured out a better place. He went to sleep almost instantly, and I hoped he stayed that way until Justin passed out tonight. The dryer was the only safe place. It wasn't like anyone did anything in the laundry room, except me, anyway. I then hid the dog food under the sink.

Alec helped me make a large dinner of eggplant parmesan, chicken piccata, mozzarella filled meatballs, and a simple salad. If we spaced it out, this might last us for tonight's dinner as well as tomorrow's.

Fat chance!

Alec was already snacking while he set the table.

Justin walked in the door at seven and collapsed into a chair with a haggard face. We all sat down to dinner like normal people did, and I wondered how much longer we would be able to do this. With Justin's new revelations today about the future of the Cullens, I figured our free time was short.

Halfway through the meal, the phone rang, and I got up to answer it.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Neighbor!" a cheery voice answered. "Hi, this is Carrie Sed, from down the street. You remember?"

"Of course." I inwardly groaned. Alice had told me a few things about Terry and Carrie from down the street. Not surprisingly, everyone on the block tried to avoid them. They were just too happy, and the Stepford thing was aggravating. They didn't have too many friends because of it. But I was determined to give them a chance. "How are you?"

"I'm fine. We're all fine over here. Actually, I don't want to keep you long, but I was just calling to see if you wanted to come over for a dinner party we're having in a couple days? Just us and another couple."

"That's great. What time?"

"Is seven good?"

"Seven's fine. Do you want us to bring anything?"

"No, I'm handling all the cooking. Don't you worry. So I'll set a place for you guys."

"Okay, and thanks for the invitation."

"No problem. And feel free to bring Alec."

"We will. Goodnight."

"Night, Selena."

I hung up the phone and went back into the dining room.

"Who was that?" Justin asked when I sat down.

"Well, we've been invited to a dinner party."

"I can't go," he replied quickly.

"You don't even know when it is."

"I'm busy. I can't go. I can only guess who it is and if I have to sit through a dinner with those two robots, I'll kill myself."

"They're not that bad," I said, almost hopefully. "And you're going. It's later in the week."

Alec snickered from across the table.

"You're going too," I told him.

His face fell. "No way. They're so weird."

"We've been invited and we're going," I said with finality and continued eating.

Justin grumbled under his breath, but didn't say anything.

Sometime around ten that night, everyone was tired. Justin fell asleep before his head hit the pillow, and Alec was snoring like a bear when I turned out the light in the hallway. I let Francis go to the bathroom one last time before putting him back in the dryer. I still didn't know how to broach that subject with Justin. Thankfully, Alec hadn't spilled his big mouth yet.

The next morning, I rolled over in empty sheets, and the smell of cooking bacon assaulted my nose. It made my stomach churn and flip in my body. I didn't know if I liked that feeling, but the smell drew me out of bed.

I completed my morning routine before going downstairs to see Justin standing in front of the stove. He was dressed for work, minus his usual pressed white shirt and his jacket, which was slung over a chair.

"Wow, Justin Bieber cooking. I never thought I'd see the day." I stood next to him at the stove and kissed his shoulder.

"I'm not cooking. I'm reheating," he corrected me. "I had this delivered. You said you wanted me for breakfast every morning, so here it is."

"You must have done something bad." I picked up a piece of toast and took a small bite. On the counter was a wide array of fruit, eggs, and bagels. Justin was heating the bacon in a skillet and I was actually amazed that it wasn't smoking. He did have the best cooking skills.

"I'm just trying to be the perfect man," he said with a sarcastic chuckle, "That's what you wanted."

"I don't want that perfect man. You're far from it and I like that."

"Well, thank you…I think."

"How did you sleep?" I asked.

"Flawlessly. That bed up there works wonders on my back."

"I noticed." I ran my hand over his spine. "Why don't you have a shirt on?"

"I got water on it. I put it in the dryer for a minute."

"Oh," I replied. It took me a second to remember just exactly what was in the dryer. I dropped the toast and took off towards the laundry room.

I turned on the light and ripped the dryer door open.

"Francis," I pulled out Justin's shirt and stupidly looked inside. "Are you in here?"

Images of a chubby, burned bulldog ran through my mind, and I started crawling on my knees, checking corners.

"Francis, are you in here?" I moved aside baskets and unpacked boxes, but found nothing.

Shit!

I checked under everything and in boxes as well. After a minute, it was obvious that he had escaped.

I was still scouring on the floor when I was met with expensive Italian loafers and the crease of silky dress pants.

"Your dog had to pee so I let him out about an hour ago." Justin's voice didn't sound amused at all.

I looked up. "Thanks. That was sweet of you."

"We're not keeping him." He left the room and I got up, following him.

"He just showed up yesterday and it wasn't like I could turn him away."

"Why not? He's not your responsibility." Justin sat at the table to eat breakfast. "Dogs are disgusting."

"No, they're not. And we washed him last night so he's clean."

"You and Alec aren't keeping that thing. Dogs have fleas, and parasites, and bugs, and they slobber, and what about rabies? You don't even know if he has his shots." He shuddered in disgust. "Plus, he could belong to someone."

"I'm keeping the dog." I went to check the backyard where Francis was rolling around in the yard. "He's staying here."

"Selena, I'm putting my foot down. He's not staying."

"You might be the head of the mafia family, but you can't just make all the decisions for this family. He's staying and his name is Francis." I snapped. I didn't know where that rush of emotion came from, but I liked it.

Justin's lips raised in a snarl, ironically like a dog, but he didn't say anything back to me.

[kilyra]

Convince Me, Murdock.

Matt Murdock (Daredevil) One-Shot from prompt list This is the conclusion to the arc of “Can’t Tell Me What To Do, Murdock” and “Hold Me, Murdock”. (Find these in my Masterlist post linked in my bio)

A/N: I received an anon request from List B: Angst/fluff Prompt List: 2 - “Stay here tonight”, 77 - “We're meant for each other”, 94 - “I won't lose you too”. 

After the events of the previous stories, you are still trying to put the pieces back together. You still don’t quite feel settled and are hoping the key is to get your life settled back to how it was.

Warnings: Steamy PG13 bits!  Guys, you are seriously in for a treat here! The really fun stuff was written by the incredible @suitsofwo3 and worked into the end of this fic. It was so much fun to play around with and I hope you guys enjoy it!

You froze when you heard the door to the apartment open. He was early. Silently, you reminded yourself that you were doing nothing wrong, just simply trying to put the pieces back together. Hastily, you shoved a few more clothes from the pile into the suitcase.

As Matt came inside, his cane was already folded in his hand. With his suit and tinted glasses, he looked like a different person from the man who lounged around the apartment with you. And definitely bore no resemblance to the devil.

Setting the cane on the table by the door, he smiled at you as he took off his glasses and set them down too. Because of course he knew you were sitting in the one spot where you could see him at the entrance. 

“You're home early,” you said in as light of a tone as you could, ignoring the heaviness that grew in your gut.

Briefly, his eyebrows flickered towards each other at your words. He paused, but when he spoke, it was in as equally light of a tone. “Yeah, the meeting with the DA wrapped up early.”

At even the mere mention of the case, the heaviness in your stomach churned. Clutching more shirts in your hand, you set them on your lap as you watched Matt come into the apartment, loosening his tie.

“Must be slow at the office if you call it a day after one meeting.”

“Karen and Foggy can handle it for an afternoon, it's fine,” he said, shooting a lopsided grin your direction before making his way to the cupboard and pulling out a glass. Without a single misstep or hesitation, he casually went to the sink, staring forward as he filled up his water.

“Just as we suspected, the files you handed over were so iron clad that none of this is going to trial. Everyone implicated has either already pled guilty or are signing off on plea deals, giving up bigger names. It's everything I told you would happen but now it's official. It's done.”

And yet the fear still weighed on you.

Coming to lean on the edge of his kitchen counter, his lopsided grin grew. “And it's especially great that you don't have to testify because I heard them with their lawyers behind closed doors. None of them saw you enter with me that night. As far as they know, which they had confirmed by a leaked report, you came in the front to do some overtime and got caught in the crossfire. You’re of no interest to any of them.”

“But that's not...what report?”

Matt's voice took on a gentler edge. “Mahoney put in his report that you were just an employee who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. When you could finally give your statement, it didn't help the case any to change that. And it was safer for you that way. So he left it how it was, and it somehow got leaked so...”

“So...everyone thinks that's what happened?”

After taking a sip, he set the glass down on the counter. “Everyone.”

Softly, you let out a scoff. “So you didn't have to convince them the devil made me do it?”

Returning your scoff with a chuckle, he ran his hand down his tie. “No. Which is good because I'm not sure the devil can make you do anything.”

Because he would have made you stay home that night. Matt didn't say it but you knew that was on his mind.

A faint smile played on your lips. Until you looked down at the clothes in your hand. It faded as you set them on the suitcase.

Cocking his head, Matt's eyes scanned over the room and trailed towards the ceiling before he turned his face towards you. “Y/n? What's going on?”

Your pulse started to pick up. Slowly, he came around the edge of the couch, easily avoiding the boxes you had in the corner since you started staying there. He stopped by the coffee table and frowned. “Are you unpacking more or...?”

Swallowing heavily, your heart pounded as you took a deep breath to reply. “I-“

“Lets just…” He interrupted, catching you off guard. “Can we skip past the part where you lie to me and move on to the truth?”

“How can you expect to have a normal relationship with anyone if you cut out all the lies?" Attempting to diffuse with a joke was all you could think of because, in truth, you didn't know what to say.

His eyebrows furrowed deeply as he lifted his chin. “Anyone? Or you?”

You danced around the question. “I don't...I didn't mean it like that. Look, I found a place actually. It's just a room, but I can move in this afternoon. And I'll find a storage unit for the rest of my stuff by the end of the week, I promise.”

His eyes moved slightly, not quite fixed on you, but he was otherwise still. “Really? A room?”

Grabbing more clothes from the pile beside you, you folded them neatly, clutching at the fabric through each step. “Yeah. I mean, it’s something at least, I can't keep just crashing here. My new job has been going well and I’ve sorted out payments for the bills. The last thing I needed was somewhere to live so I can move forward and maybe start feeling like myself again.”

Stooping, he sat on the edge of the coffee table somehow being mindful of the suitcase near your feet. “So what, you were just going to leave? Is that why you didn't want me back so early?”

Desperately, you tried to think of how to answer as your heart pounded harder, but apparently, Matt figured it out.

“Wow, really? Were you even going to tell me?”

“Yeah, of course.”

As his tongue darted out, Matt huffed through his parted lips and shook his head in disbelief.

“Eventually...after I got settled there this afternoon.”

His eyebrows shot up as his gaze darted upward. Rubbing down over his mouth, he tugged at the corner of his lips before dropping his hand in his lap with a sigh. “Y/n. I need you to be straight with me right now. Are we over too? Is that what’s happening here?”

A knot sharply twisted in your stomach at the idea. But wouldn't that be the best for Matt – to have the chance to meet someone who wasn't such a basket-case?  

“Definitely seems like we’re meant for each other – I didn’t get the difference between taking space and pushing people away either. Just ask Foggy and Karen. And I told myself I was doing it for their own good but that wasn't true.”

The knot tightened, creeping up to clamp around your throat. Could he stop reading your thoughts for just a minute? “No. I’m not ending things. I just…I just need to get my life back on track. Get back to something normal.”

Slightly nodding, Matt’s stare settled on the pile of boxes. “But why does that mean leaving? I see you Y/n. I see the pain and the…the desperation to feel normal again. But I promise you, this won’t help the way you want it to.”

Working your throat to speak, nothing was coming out. Sighing, you pulled yourself to your feet and stepped away from the chair. He was right, and that was frustrating. You wanted to believe that if you got back all the pieces that fell apart when you were shot, you would be your old self again and everything would be fine.

But living out of a small, sad rented room didn't feel like a step in the right direction either.

You heard his feet shuffle as he navigated around the suitcase and clothes pile. Coming behind you, he set his hands on your shoulder and you could feel the heat through the fabric of your light shirt. The knot  loosened at his touch. You didn't want to lose him.

When he spoke you could feel his breath on your neck. “You don’t need leave here to move forward. If you go, you’ll find that out for yourself and I'm worried you'll retreat even further. And I’ll…”

Hearing his words fall away, you slowly turned to face him. His lips pursed tightly as his eyes rolled upward; you could almost see him arranging his thoughts before he finally spoke.

“I won’t lose you too, Y/n. You just need to give yourself time. Just…stay here tonight at least. If you need space, I'll go stay with Foggy.” Deftly, he stepped closer until his body was just inches from yours and it suddenly dawned on you that this was the closest he had been to you since he got home. The closest in days, actually.

“Oh yeah, Marcy would just love that,” you said, weakly. Lightly, the toes of his work shoes touched your bare feet as you inhaled the fresh scent of his shower gel. A dull ache started forming.

Blinking slowly, he smiled as his breath fanned your face. “Marcy is a good person. She’ll understand.”

Cocking his head slightly, you could tell Matt was trying to read your heartbeat, listening for some kind of confirmation you wanted this as much as he did. Your heart was hammering against your chest so hard you had no doubt he could hear it. And yet, you watched as he wordlessly took one of your wrists in his hand and gently pressed his thumb against the pulse point.

“Move in with me, Y/n. Stop crashing and unpack your boxes.”

When you finally felt brave enough to lift your head, you found yourself looking into the eyes of the man you loved. For once Matt's eyes weren't looking just past you. They roamed over your face, almost as if he could see you, before settling to rest on your own.

Slowly, his fingers traced away from your wrist, gliding along your skin the same way you'd seen him read braille. In your time together, he had learned to road-map your skin, no longer traversing you as though you were forbidden, untraveled territory. Which is why, when his hand slid underneath your shirt, it easily found its destination. Your now-healed bullet wound.

Flinching slightly, you didn't push his hand away. Running his tongue over his lips, he hummed, gently prodding for an answer as he thumbed small circles over the scar that speckled your abdomen. The dull ache grew, becoming more demanding.

Your breaths were uneven as you reached up to cup his face. Rubbing your thumb along his cheekbone, your fingers lightly caressed the soft hair behind his ear.

Matt was still looking at you as he folded into your touch, making your pulse jump. The grin that formed on his lips made it abundantly clear he picked up on it.

Running your free hand up his chest, you wrapped your fingers around his tie. “Interesting proposal. But I'm not sure.”  

“Really? Because your heartbeat is so loud, Y/n, it's deafening.” His lips brushed against your ear before softly grazing along your jaw as he gently walked you backwards. In a few steps, your back was flush against the wall by his bedroom door. In a painfully slow motion, he moved his hand to grip one of your hips while his free hand found your neck, running his thumb over your lips.

Leaning into him, you couldn't help your growl as you tugged on his tie. “Convince me, Murdock.”

Before you could utter another word, Matt's lips captured yours as you shoved his suit jacket over his shoulders. Quickly shedding it, he took both your wrists in one hand and pinned them above your head interlocking his fingers with yours.

Again, your heartbeat spiked as Matt took control, sliding his suited thigh between your knees as his mouth continued to dance with yours. His free hand firmly gripped your hip pulling you to him, closing the gap. Releasing your hands, he seized your other hip, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist. Clasping his shoulders, you pressed against him as his tongue swirled along your neck, his kisses growing urgent. Gripping your thighs, he started moving toward the bedroom.

When he finally answered, his voice was low and raw with passion. “I think I can do that.”

[ifeveristoday]

Amazon releases the Boom! Buffy a day earlier than its published date - I thought it was just a fluke with the first digital copy, but I preordered the second issue and it happened again.

Buckle down internets, here are some mildly quick reactions to issue 2 of the Boom! reboot

okay, so the preview panels are fun to guess about and theorize but wow, dialogue really puts everything in context and all of the supposed drama that I was thinking/okay reading other people’s thoughts re: what was going to happen -- I was wrong about pretty much everything except for Buffy disliking Joyce’s boyfriend. Of a year. 

who is probably most likely not evil or going to die in a horrible fashion ...right?

Nice meeting you Eric.

The pacing of this issue is just as quick as the first one - I feel because there are so many characters and such a rich mythology to draw from, that there’s going to be a long run of introducing all of them into the Boom!verse before there is a long sustained arc - that we meet 2-3 new characters each issue and then get a corner piece of the overall puzzle.

This is both good and bad - because it can be overwhelming to a new reader who may not have seen the show and is experiencing Buffy for the very first time in comic form, but for a long time fan like myself - these little introductory drips make me really impatient for what comes next. I just want to collect all the Scoobies and get to the story!

The new additions - Eric and Rose don’t strike me as anything more than love interests currently and are appropriately supportive of Joyce and Willow. 

They’re more like cameos but I hope they will get fleshed out in future issues.

Onto canon characters-

Cordelia, Cordelia, Cordelia. In full Queen C/Tracey Flick mode. The twist is that there is no animosity between her and Willow, and Cordelia is that rare popular person who’s actually nice to everyone which is so not how popular media portrays high school to be. I know! Willow envies Cordelia but it’s not due to any messy romance issues, it’s because she thinks Cordelia is so much nicer, smarter and more beautiful. Rose sweetly reminds her that she is all that too.

So for everyone who was worried that just because Willow wears crop tops now she isn’t the awkward insecure muppet skinning sweetheart from the show --- she still is.

Cordelia’s confidence and charisma have been amped to 11 in the Boom!verse - she’s running for class president and already has been Ms. Sunnydale 2017 and 2018. In a conversation with Spike, she also reveals that she doesn’t care what other people think about her.

It’s interesting in this introduction of Cordelia- she’s the most overtly confident, with it character so far - Buffy has that whole secret identity she’s poorly keeping and burgeoning slayer powers, which leads to prickly independence and sassing of authority figures and also a remarkable lack of knowing how to read a room, Willow has self-doubt about her own worth, and Xander -- well those blue boxes were his blogs and feelings of alienation the entire time. They’re three separate characters that are drifting alone in the same direction, whereas Cordelia has the appearance of popularity, beauty, and connecting to others. So ...pretty parallel to the show actually.

Robin - similar to Cordelia in the confidence department - he’s also super smooth - the closing distance between him and Buffy in each descending panel was a nice touch. Buffy, who is already on edge for inadvertently showing off her slayer speed to the track coach, mistakenly thinks Robin is flirting with her - which he neatly turns around into a compliment and a flirt. It was cute, but I want to know why he fell off a roof.

But back to that other meet cute - Cordelia spots a few of her campaign balloons floating around Sunnydale woods and because she’s environmentally minded, runs to catch them.

Spike is lurking in the woods. As you do.

This dialogue:

What’s a nice British guy like you lurking around high school campuses for?

Luring girls like you into the woods.

What big eyes you have, Grandmother.

Cordelia does not interrogate Spike further about why he’s hanging out in the woods and even offers him a ride -- but this is brushed off due to Cordelia’s belief that paranoia is pointless - “..what’s the point in assuming everyone is out to getcha?”

Oh you sweet summer child.

They’re all so young, Gandalf. *sniff

And Spike knows her name, so that’s going to end up real well.

I thought it was both believable and telling that Xander’s blog box wrote “Girls don’t even have to try to be likable. A friendly smile, and they have anyone wrapped around their finger.”

Spoken like a boy who doesn’t know anything about girls. But he’s in pain and we’ve seen what happens when people are in pain and don’t reach out - as quickly as the Scooby Gang assembled in the first issue, they are distant from each other in this issue as other characters are introduced. Xander is constantly shown as an outsider looking wistfully at Willow/Rose and Cordelia. And the chat group with Buffy/Willow, he really feels left out. I honestly hope they don’t go down the path Jonathan did in Earshot with Xander’s characterization, but that last ominous blog box - When am I gonna finally get what I want? <shades of school shooter I’m just saying there’s media precedence>

And finally, to Anya and Drusilla - they’re the keepers of the Spooky and hint at an arc - what brought them to Sunnydale in the first place. Drusilla knows Anya is a demon and can’t be tortured or killed, and Anya tricks Drusilla with a psychology trick, which -- I’m not sure I like, but I will admit I laughed at Anya’s smug expression in the last panel. Bet you feel real dumb right now -- indeed. I’m going to calm down on the theorizing of future previews because they are misleading without dialogue. 

So future issue: JENNY CALENDAR (Year Book Club will now be meeting in Ms. Calendar’s classroom in Room 106), the school play is Phantom of the Opera (could be worse. could be Cats.) and there’s a sinkhole in the Science Wing.

And there’s a gossip girl style bulletin at the beginning of the issue:

Ok, guys, NEW SCHOOL YEAR UPDATE! There’s a new student named Buffy and she seems SUPER cool, but also, like, super introverted? Btw I am GREAT at talking to introverts, but she spends all her time in the library with the hot dad librarian. Weird. Also, I hear she walks around a lot at night STABBING PEOPLE. Who does that? Maybe she just needs a new friend to show her that stabbing is bad!

Immediate headcanon: this is Harmony writing these updates. Also Xander’s blog has only three followers. 

Final verdict - they’re still hammering out characterizations and the tone of the story, but I dislike that the Scooby Gang has basically evaporated in the second issue and that the cameos of the love interests don’t really add anything to the story except to announce their existence. Eric is totally not going to bite it at any time.

Buffy basically only hangs out in the library and hasn’t attempted to make any other friends besides Xander and Willow, there is no Dawn (and no Mr. Gordo, this is outrageous), Cordelia’s charm offensive makes me think she’s going to reveal herself as a Mayor Wilkins type later on but until then, shine on you crazy diamond. Giles is there to be annoyed at Buffy and I find myself in that odd position of being both on their sides but mostly like Giles, get your feet off the table, Buffy. I was hoping to find out more about when Buffy started training with Giles - they’re definitely not close yet, still very much in the I’m just doing this because I have to and why don’t you take your sacred calling more seriously, you frivolous American teenage girl phase. But yeah, she’s bratty to both Joyce and Giles.

Willow and Rose were there to be cute, and that’s appreciated but again - Rose didn’t really bring anything meaningful to the storyline.

Also yeah there’s a giant bat monster that kills vampires loose in Sunnydale.

Must be Tuesday.

[rhetoricalrogue]

Some Surprise

My contribution to OC Kiss Week’s collaboration with @out-of-the-embers, featuring her lovely Lily and my hot mess of a boy Rolfe in a modern AU.

Look at the artwork she did!  It’s amazing!  It was so much fun working with you!

There were definitely worse ways to spend a Friday night than to hang out with friends at the local tavern type bar and grill.  Lily leaned against the bar and shouted out her friends’ orders over the din of the people gathered and the sound of the band on the stage at the back of the room.  They were a local band of mostly college kids that had played at the place before, but Lily didn’t recognize the guitarist. She figured he was new or at least standing in for the usual guy for the night.  He wasn’t too bad; there were a few moments where she could tell that they hadn’t really practiced together, but he kept up with the band enough that unless you were really nitpicking and listening, you didn’t notice.

He wasn’t too bad on the eyes either: she guessed he must have been around his mid-twenties, which was a smidge older than his fellow bandmates. His dark hair hung loose and around the collar of his snugly fitting shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.  He had a nice, rich sounding voice that complimented the lead singer’s vocals without hogging all the limelight and seemed beyond happy to be on stage and playing.  They’d been there a few hours already and Lily could tell that whatever weight he had brought with him at the beginning of the night was slowly dropping off his shoulders.

Not that she was watching closely enough to notice.  Too hard.  Shit.  He was cute, but in that way that told her that he knew how attractive he was, and honestly, she was happy watching from the sidelines instead of going up for a closer look.  She didn’t want to ruin the nice little fantasy that he was a good guy who liked dogs and holding hands for the possible harsh reality of a self-centered jerk in love with himself.

By the time the bartender slid a tray of drinks to her, the band was wrapping up a set and going on a mid-evening break.  Weaving her way through the crowd as best as she could, she managed to get back to the table without spilling anything.

“And what about you?”  Lily blinked at her cousin’s question.

“What about me?”

Raphael raised the empty glass she’d left at the table, the remnants of ice sliding around at the bottom.  “You didn’t get a refill for yourself.  I know you; once those nachos we ordered come in, you’re going to be reaching for a drink that’s not there.”  He started to get up to go for her, but she shook her head.

“I’m already up, I’ll get rid of this tray while I’m at it.”  The trip back to the bar was a lot easier now that she wasn’t worried about spilling anything, and the crowd around the bartender had thinned out enough that she didn’t have to jockey for a spot.

“Hi.”

Lily almost didn’t turn at the greeting, thinking that it was directed towards someone else, but then she felt a gentle tap at her shoulder.  Setting the tray down at the end of the bar, she looked to her left.

And there he was, the unknown guitarist with the pretty hair.  “Hello.”

He smiled at her and leaned an elbow against the bar. “How’s your evening going?”

She shrugged. “It’s going.” She glanced at the stage where some of the other band members were taking a break. “The music’s good.”

“Yeah, they’re a nice band. I was lucky that I found someone playing close by that needed a backup guitarist.” His smile widened. “I’m Rolfe.”

“Lily.”

“I could probably throw out a line about you being prettier than the flower you’re named after, but I bet you’ve already heard them all.”

Lily arched her eyebrow. “You have no idea.”

“Well, then it’s good for me that I don’t use cheesy pickup lines.” He tilted his head to the side and laughed. “Too often.”

She blushed and cleared her throat, trying to remember what they’d been talking about before she got distracted by the dimple that had appeared when he smiled. “You’re a backup member? I thought you were with the band.”

“These guys?  Nah, I’m not with them, they were just nice enough to let me play with them for a night.  I’ve known them all of…” Rolfe looked at his watch. “A couple of hours.”

“Oh? So what do you do when you aren’t playing with complete strangers?”

He winked and leaned close.  “Super secret spy things for the Chantry. I slipped free of my handlers for the evening.”

“Oh, sure. Okay.”

His eyes widened and he put a hand to his chest. “No, seriously. I’m a dangerous assassin, back from a semi-successful mission.”

She decided to play along.  “Semi-successful?  What happened, you miss your target?”

Rolfe shrugged.  “No, the target was eliminated, but I took a bit of a tumble escaping.  I had to run across rooftops avoiding the guards with nasty aim and some of the tiles were loose.”  He lifted his knee and Lily could see neatly wrapped bandages beneath the hole in his jeans.  “It wasn’t my most graceful moment.”

She snorted, still not believing his story. “And what? After a mission debriefing, you decided to head over to a bar and find a band that needed a guitarist?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”  He took a sip of his beer.  “I’m hitting burnout and needed some decompression.  Probably should have told my superiors where I went, but I’m pretty damn sure Ser Alexander knows exactly where I’m at.  That old warhorse has an uncanny talent at finding his wayward minions when they decide to go AWOL post-mission.” Rolfe leaned heavier against the bar and Lily saw that a line had appeared between his brows.  Maybe he was full of shit about some of his story, but it was obvious that there was some truth to what was stressing him out.

“Well, I’m glad that you decided to run away here.  It’s been a nice night listening to you play.”

And just like that, the heaviness seemed to fall off his shoulders as quickly as it had settled over him.  “I’m glad I decided to run away here too.  It isn’t often that I get to talk to a pretty lady.”

Lily felt her ears redden at the compliment.  “Somehow I seriously doubt that.”

“It’s true!  Hey, can I buy you a drink? I know you’re with a group of people, but…”

“Oh, I’m not drinking…”

“Soda?  I figured that you’re the DD for the evening.”

She tilted her head.  “How did you know?”

Rolfe grinned and tapped the side of his nose.  “Chantry spy, remember?  Being observant is a job requirement.”  He glanced over his shoulder and Lily saw that the drummer was making none-too-subtle “wrap it up” motions with his drumsticks.  “Listen, I’ve got to get back on stage, but it was great talking with you.”  Rolfe pulled out a pen from his back pocket and reached behind Lily to grab a cardboard coaster off the bar.  She watched as he scribbled his name and phone number on it before sliding it towards her.  “If you ever feel like talking some more, no pressure.  Texting is often better though, especially for late night conversations.”

She arched eyebrow.  “So you don’t disturb the other super secret assassins at work?”

Rolfe winked.  “Now you’re getting it!  Gerard is especially grumpy when people keep him while he’s trying to sleep.  Had to dodge a knife he threw at me once and he’s threatened to just shoot me the next time I wake him up without reason.”

Lily took the coaster and put it in her jacket pocket.  There was more than likely zero chance that he would ever text her back if she made a first move, and seeing that he wasn’t from around the area, she doubted that she’d ever see him again.  It was a shame, because while he was just a little bit in love with himself, he hit her as a genuinely nice guy who just wanted to have fun.

She glanced back at the table.  Raphael was watching closely with a grin on his face, and she knew that she was going to get teased no matter what once she got back.  Biting her lip, she reached out and tugged on Rolfe’s arm as he was leaving to get his attention.

“Hey, thanks.”  She rose on her tiptoes and closed her eyes, hoping that her aim was good.  Rolfe was a good few inches taller than her, and she hoped that the impulsive decision to kiss his cheek would pay off and she didn’t wind up catching his earlobe or anything.

She was surprised when instead of his cheek or his earlobe, she actually managed to kiss his mouth.  Judging by the soft intake of breath, Rolfe was just as surprised as she was.  The kiss didn’t last but for a second or two, but she broke away first, an apology already on her lips and heat flushing to her cheeks.

Rolfe smiled at her, a genuine smile that made his blue eyes sparkle and that dimple reappear at his cheek.  “Wow.”  He shuffled closer to her and tilted his head.  “May I?”

She felt disconnected from her body as she slowly nodded.  Lily closed her eyes as Rolfe reached out to cup her cheek in his hand and slowly brushed his lips across hers once, then twice before settling into a firmer kiss.  She melted against his embrace and when she lifted her hands to wrap around him, she could feel the muscles at his back loosen and relax.

Rolfe’s thumb brushed against her cheek and he gently bumped his nose against hers.  “Wow,” he murmured again, slowly moving away from her.  Lily almost instantly missed the warmth of his body against hers.  He was going to say something when the band’s lead singer cleared their throat loudly into the microphone on stage.

“If our Cassanova is finished, we’re back from break.”

Rolfe looked sheepish.  “I’ve got to go,” he told her, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at the band.  “Duty calls.”

Lily nodded and absently bit at her lip.  She watched as Rolfe’s eyes seemed to darken and he swooped down for a quick kiss to her cheek.  “Text me?  I wasn’t kidding about my roommate threatening to kill me if I woke him up with a phone call.”

She was still nodding as he turned around and headed to the stage at a quick jog.  Lily watched as the drummer handed Rolfe his guitar and there was a quick huddle before the lead singer laughed and stepped aside.

Even with the bright lights pointed at the stage, Rolfe managed to catch Lily’s eyes and hold it.  “So this isn’t a regular thing, but the band agreed to indulge me.  This next song is an original, but be gentle: I just thought of it ten seconds ago.  It doesn’t have many lyrics yet, but I’m calling it Lily.”

Lily could all but feel Raphael’s eyes on her the entire time she wandered haphazardly back to their table her attention focused on the stage and the song being played more than anything.

“Well, well, well,” Raphael drawled as she finally sat back down.  “Someone made a friend.”

“Oh please, don’t you start.”

He put a hand up defensively. “I’m not starting anything. To be honest, I think it’s sweet.  A little cheesy, but sweet nonetheless.”

Lily smiled and raised her glass to salute Rolfe as he wrapped up his song. It wasn’t the best song she’d ever heard, but she could definitely tell Rolfe was making both the music and the lyrics up on the fly.

It was the cutest thing anyone had ever done to impress her.

“So,” Raphael started, digging into the nachos that had been served to their table while she had been at the bar, “are you going to call him or not?”

She blushed. “How do you know he gave me his number?” she asked, picking up a nacho to give herself time to think.

“I was watching. The guy was slick.”

“You were being nosy, you mean.”

“Call it what you want, but I saw him handing something to you. I’d put money on it that a phone number was involved.”

The coaster weighed heavily in her jacket pocket. “I haven’t decided yet.” She looked at her watch and did some quick mental calculations. If the band was going to play all night, they’d be up for another break in about an hour. Even if she didn’t call Rolfe, at least she’d get a second chance to talk with him.

She turned her attention back to the stage just in time to watch Rolfe wave in her direction. Smiling, she waved back.

What the hell, she thought, pulling her phone out. Tapping a quick note to tell him she enjoyed the impromptu serenade, she hit send before she could think better of it and delete the message.  If anything, getting to know Rolfe would be fun.

[saltwatersweets]

Freedom Isn’t Free, but I Sure Am

Chapter One

Summary: They had been taken, stripped of joy, of peace, and now they couldn’t remember what life was like outside of their prison.

A small, open vent, while easily making someone claustrophobic, is just what they need.

Beginning Author’s Note: Hi! As you can see, this is going to be a very dark story. Trigger warnings for this chapter include needles, torture, kidnapping, people getting hurt, falling from heights, crying and sort of a panic attack, escaping from a hospital like place, small spaces, and overall dark undertones.

Yeah, like I said, a lot. Stay safe you guys.

Also, I have a Discord server, which if you want the link I’ll go to the post I had it in and @ you, so feel free to join!

Anyways, this fanfiction was inspired by:

Powerless by @impatentpending on Tumblr and Archive of our own

Dark Origins by Indee on Archive of our own

Many other fanfictions that are so good!

Let’s get on with it, shall we?

•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•

It had been a stupid idea, really, which Logan vocalized almost immediately.

“It’ll never work,” he said, doing his best to remain patient. “It never has before and we’re already too drained to do anything.”

“It could work this time!” Roman defended endlessly, trying to make his friend see reason. “This is our only shot of escape; we have to try! It could work!”

“And what happens if we get caught?” Logan narrowed his eyes. “We get killed, or they separate us-“

“Or we leave!”

Logan looked over to the vent, then back at Roman. “There really is no convincing you, is there?” He sighed. “Before I met you, I did not believe there was anyone possibly more stubborn than me.Fine. We may attempt to escape, although I seriously doubt it’ll work.”

Roman began jumping around, his wings flapping in excitement, before being hastily shushed by Logan. “Alright, what do we do?” He whispered.

“Curl your wings around you to be as minuscule as possible, then begin to crawl through the vent. I will follow you when you are safely inside.”

“...Are you sure you’ll be safe?”

“We never are quite ‘safe’, are we Roman? I suppose by leaving, however, we will be as safe as we can be.” Logan smiled gently, an action that was quickly mirrored by his younger comrade.

“Alright.” Roman sighed, though it was out of anxiety rather than exasperation, running a shaky hand through his horribly greasy hair. “Alright, we can do this.”

“Well, I don’t want to give you possible false hope, but I suppose it really is our only chance of freedom. Now, make haste and crawl through the vent, they could be coming.”

It really was a horrible day, and Roman’s movements showed it; he was much more sluggish crawling through the tiny vent than he would’ve been any other day that week. However, that day had just the perfect day, no needles or anything stabbing the two, nope!

...Okay, that was a lie. The day had begun like any other day for the past... what, three years? Five years? Logan had lost count at around the first year. (How one who was trained to subconsciously count every minute inside his head could lose count, he did not know.). Roman and Logan woke up, stretched out their wings and muscles, and greeted each other (not that they needed to, they always slept in the same bed to fill Roman’s touch starvation). Then they heard the footsteps.

They stole quick, frightened glances at each other, both knowing what was coming, both hearts threatening to beat out of the two chests. Looking back at the door when they heard it open, they saw them.

Four people, two men and two women, were standing at the door, two of them holding teal syringes. Desperately trying to keep his composure, Logan slowly backed away from a man coming towards him. One woman grabbed Roman harshly and held him back, though not enough for him to stay. Sensing what was coming next, Logan closed his eyes and waited for the pain.

He heard a sharp, tiny gasp, and an expected thud.

Opening his eyes sadly, he looked down to see Roman sitting on the floor, curled up like a ball and shaking. He began crying, and instead of the screams that were once torn from his mouth unwillingly, he could only tremble and whimper. Logan sighed; every month, no matter what he had said, Roman would always jump in front of him like the knight in shining armor he so clearly craved to be.

Logan slowly sat down and wrapped his arms around the sobbing man, sending quite a few glares at the scientists, who seemed to be apathetic to the disgusting situation. He held tightly onto his roommate, closing his eyes once more.

He bit back a yelp as he felt the thin, painful needle enter his left arm, instead forcing himself to hold his friend even tighter as he would begin mirroring his actions.

Shaking himself of the memories, Logan looked ahead. It was dark, but through several types of drugs and an extreme amount of experimentation, he could make out enough to know where to go, had Roman not been in the way. He didn’t believe they were actually going to make it, and was honestly confused about why there were no sirens. They would have been able to hear them, surely. Why was no one looking for them? It simply did not make any sense to him.

But it doesn’t matter, he mused silently, scampering hurriedly to keep up with his friend. Wouldn’t it be a good thing if they didn’t come looking for them, if they forgot the two existed?

Then they couldn’t be caught. Then they could be free.

Roman started to slow in his crawling, already beginning to feel tired from the affects of the “medication”, as they had called it. Scolding himself, he picked up the pace, to the point where Logan had to grab onto his leg to keep him from over exerting himself. Smiling sheepishly, Roman slowed in his steps, if only a small amount.

Then he gasped.

Th-there was a window. A window! This was- this wasn’t real, he couldn’t believe their luck. A window, perfectly capable of being opened, there all this time! Racing forward (as fast as he could for someone who was crawling), he gripped onto the latch, willed it with his entire being to open, and pulled as hard as he could.

It opened.

It was possibly the best feeling that Logan had ever felt, the fresh air. He could feel, hear his heart pumping in excitement and disbelief. The blood rushing to his head. The adrenaline beginning to fuel his very bones.

The only problem was, looking down, they seemed to be about fifty feet in the air.

“Well, that’s just perfect, isn’t it?” Roman exclaimed dramatically. “We’re so close, just barely getting a taste of freedom, yet so far!” At this dreadful declaration of truth, he threw his hand on his forehead and leaned against Logan for support.

Pushing Roman off of his person, Logan playfully, but seriously, replied with an excellent use of his vocabulary. “Shut up, I’m thinking.”

“We could always use our wings!” Roman joked, pulling his man made bird thingie out to show his point. Looking down, Logan mused over the outburst, before coming to a sound decision.

“That is an excellent idea, Roman. Flying it is.” Logan smiled, then crawled closer to the edge.

“W-wait! I was joking!” Roman cried frantically, grabbing onto Logan’s arm to keep the man from jumping. “We haven’t even used our wings, Logan!”

“Well, now you’re doing my job. I thought I was the one to think logically? I don’t see how staying here would be any more dangerous than trying to fly. It is our only shot of what most would call ‘safety’, and I don’t suppose we will get another one soon. I believe now is the time to take a chance, but I can go first if you’d like.”

Roman mumbled out an “Okay,”, which was enough for Logan as he spread his wings as much as he could in the cramped vent, leaned over, gulped, and jumped.

The elder gasped, feeling the wind blow against his face, wings flapping frantically in order to keep him from smacking onto the ground. And suddenly, it happened.

He flew.

It wasn’t much, he had never done it before, but he momentarily glided above the ground, hitting it softly, much softer than he would’ve without the wings. “Roman! It’s innocuous! You may come down now!” Logan yelled, even he couldn’t leep in the excitement he felt; would this really work?

Looking down one more time, and swallowing the fear, Roman jumped, and thankfully, wound up flying too. “That was exhilarating!!” He said, once he landed safely on the floor.

“Yes, but there’s something you may not like.” Roman cocked his head. “Your hair is now extremely unkempt.” Gasping dramatically, Roman ran his hands through his hair, trying to push the stray strands down neatly, before eventually giving up.

“We should go,” Logan began, looking at the sun and seeing it already high in the sky. “There is no time to waste. How long do you think you can fly? It may be safer.”

“I... don’t know. Only one way to find out, right?”

Logan smiled at that, of course Roman would say that. “We best be taking our leave then.” He said, and flew gracefully into the air.

Or, well, tried to. He actually wound up moving his wings uselessly on the ground for a few seconds, then he flew. Roman looked up, still laughing, and tried too, getting in the hang on things after a few minutes.

It took so, so long for the realization to set in. Years of pain, isolation, punishment, that could be behind them. They were free. Roman began to cry, which made flying a little more difficult, but who was going to punish him? That’s right, no one. He could do things like that if he wanted, he could have a free will.

They continued like that for a while, eventually growing tired. Finding a nice tree to lay on, they huddled close, and slept.

Waking up, Logan heard something moving. Worried about what it may be, he shook Roman lightly, urging him to get up. Unfortunately, Roman had always been a fairly light sleeper but he always woke with a start, so when he finally opened his eyes, he fell out of the tree.

Due to the loud noise he caused, two people, one awake scrolling Tumblr, the other just about to fall asleep watching dog videos, jumped and whipped their heads to look out the dark window.

“It’s Santa!!” One cries with enthusiasm.

“It’s the middle of May,” the other said with a fond roll of his eyes, getting up to look out the window to see the supposed “Santa Clause”.

Virgil chuckled silently. Patton had always been a little childish.

[bittysvalentines]

To @thetimetravellercat

From @uarewell

________________

Jack’s fingers fly over the keyboard, shoulders hunched in nervousness.

 “I have about 50 boxes of pie crust mix and an ungodly amount of fruit. We need to start making pies ASAP. Where are you?” He shoots off the text to Tater without a second glance, before letting his phone clatter to the marble countertop in front of him.

 The boxes of crust mix sit on the counter in front of him, mocking him.

 It was T-24 hours until the Falconers’ Bake Sale. Jack wasn’t really sure why they were making the players actually bake their own goods, seeing as the most cooking he’d ever experienced from them had been some burgers Marty had cooked up at a team barbeque a few weeks back. He was pretty sure it had something to do with the recent surge of mid-game fights. The Falconers themselves weren’t incredibly prone to fighting, but some other teams seemed to have a personal vendetta against them. Especially against Jack. It seemed that everyone and their goalie was eager to get the famed Jack Zimmermann to snap and throw a punch. None of them had been particularly successful, but that didn’t seem to stop them from trying.

Nevertheless, Jack was screwed. Why he had promised pies, he had no idea. Even with a box of mix, there was room for failure. And even with Tater’s help, Jack wasn’t feeling too optimistic about the future of their pies.

 Jack was so engrossed in his whirling thoughts that he nearly missed the buzzing of his phone. It was a call. From Eric.

He took a deep breath before answering, hoping to play it cool. “Hello?”

 “Hey sweetheart! I’m about 2 minutes away, have you preheated the oven yet?”

 Jack blinked. He wasn’t expecting a visit from his boyfriend for another week at least. “Preheat? For what? You’re in Providence?”

 Eric laughed, his voice bringing a gentle warmth, “Yeah! I was going to surprise you, but then I got your text! What’s all this about baking pies? And without me?” His voice had taken on a fake-scandalous tone.

 “I, uh… meant to text Tater,” Jack said.

 “I figured you got the wrong number. But count me in anyway, it sounds like fun!” Eric replied, sounding slightly out of breath, “Also, open up. I’m just about home.”

 Jack walked, smiling to himself, and opened the door just in time to see Eric turning the corner to meet him. His face was tinged pink from the brisk wind outside, but his eyes were as warm as ever, and he closed the distance between them in a few long strides.

“Hey handsome,” he said, grinning up at Jack and already leaning in for a kiss.

 “Hey Bits,” Jack replied, tugging him into a quick kiss before pulling Eric’s knit hat off his head and guiding their lips together again. With the hat no longer in his way, Jack carded his fingers through Eric’s hair, enjoying the soft texture under his hands.

 When they broke apart again, Eric smiled widely at Jack before tapping at his chest, pushing him gently back into the apartment. “So… why the pies?” Eric asked, shedding his outer layers and arranging them neatly on the coat rack.

 “Falconers are having a bake sale tomorrow, and they wanted us to bake for it.” Jack explained, “I figured after watching you I could handle a boxed mix, but now that I actually have to bake I am seriously doubting my abilities.”

 “We did make pie together for your final that one year,” Eric reminded him.

 “That was ages ago, Bittle.” Jack laughed.

 Eric chuckled at him, “Don’t worry about it, handsome. With my help, you can crack out dozen or so pies in a few hours.” Jack smiled, stepping into Eric’s space again.

 “Did I ever tell you how lucky I am that you’re my boyfriend?” He grinned down at him.

 “About six times a week, but I still like to hear it,” Eric chirped, pecking Jack’s lips before he moved towards the counter. He plucked one of the boxes off the counter, examining it critically, pursing his lips in concentration. Jack stepped up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist and nestling into his shoulders.

 “At least you picked a good box mix,” Eric said, dropping one of his hands to lay on Jack’s. Jack gave a small kiss to the warm skin of Eric’s neck. “I can work with these.”

 “I would expect nothing less from the world’s greatest baker,” Jack chirped. Eric rolled his eyes and turned in Jack’s grip.

 “Oh, I’m not going to be the one baking.” Jack blinked in confusion, “You’re going to be making these, mister.” Before Jack could protest, Eric tapped his nose. “If the Falconers want you to bake, then you’re going to bake.”

 Jack rolled his eyes and groaned, already waddling the two of them over to the fridge to gather ingredients. “Am I getting a personal tutorial at least? Or do I have to check YouTube?”

 Bitty giggled, swatting at Jack’s test, “I think I could arrange that. Just for you.”

 “I appreciate it,” Jack replied, pressing another kiss against his lips.

 They separated enough to pluck supplies out of Jack’s kitchen cabinets, Eric knowing better than he did where to look for the pie tins and mixing bowls. Once everything had been gathered, Eric set to laying out the ingredients in an easy to follow pattern, just like his Moomaw had done when he was first learning how to bake.

 Eric made the first pie with Jack carefully watching over his shoulder. He demonstrated how to carefully handle the dough, make a tasty filling, and reminded him how to properly embellish the final product.

 Once the first pie was set to cool, Eric set him loose. The time passed quickly, the two of them fading into an easy routine of mixing and kisses. Jack updated Eric on the goings-on of the Falconers, and detailed some of the more recent plays they had been learning. Eric, in turn, shared more about what had been happening at the Haus, which led into a long story of the newest petty pranks in the re-ignited feud with the lacrosse team.

 Jack was laughing along to one of Ransom’s more brilliantly concocted pranks to trap the whole lacrosse team in a single supply closet when Eric’s phone rang. Eric pulled it out of his pocket and let out a delighted shout. “Hold on, I really have to take this.” He swiped to accept the call and pressed it against his face eagerly.

 “Hello? Yes this is him…,” he listened intently for a moment before his face lit up, “Oh, really? Of course! Yes, thank you!” He flapped a hand excitedly at Jack, who was watching with a neatly arched brow. “Yes, that’s perfect! Thank you. I’ll be there on Wednesday!” He ended the phone call and laughed.

 “Good news, I take it?” Jack asked.

 Eric nodded, “Remember how I told you I submitted an audition tape to that food blogger site?” Jack did recall. The website was a smaller branch off of Food Network, where up-and-coming chefs could share their recipes and upload videos and, if they were good enough, got picked up by Food Network to host their own shows. “They accepted me! They want me to start making content for the blog on Wednesday!”

 Jack’s eyes widened in surprise, “Really? Bits, that’s great!” He dropped the dough he’d been handling and wrapped his arms around Eric, lifting him in a bone crushing hug. “I knew you’d make it!”

 Eric was laughing right by his ear, wrapping his legs around Jack’s waist so he couldn’t be put down. Jack adjusted his grip, cupping his butt and grinning at him.

“I mean, I thought they might, but I didn’t think it would be so soon!” His eyes sparkled.

 “You’re going to be famous,” Jack told him.

 “Well, I don’t know about that…” Eric drawled, but Jack silenced him with a kiss.

 “You’re gonna be bigger than Gordon Ramsey,” He said confidently, “Bigger than Rachel Ray. You’re going to get discovered by Food Network and blow them all away and make millions of dollars and we’re going to buy a big house with an ice rink and a kitchen the size of a small country.”

 Eric laughed, combing his hands through Jack’s hair, “You are absolutely ridiculous.” He said, fondness coloring his tone.

 “You are absolutely wonderful.” Jack shot back.

 “So are you, sweetpea.” Eric kissed Jack again, fingers cupping his jaw. “So are you.”

[weneverlearn]

Mascara scarred: Razor Boys add another notch to gutter glam’s streaked history

Razor Boys, 1978

In the tradition of record collectors forever digging for yet another cult-y sub-genre to decode, allow us here at We Never Learn HQ to pull out the ol' shovel and dig into "Revisionist Post-New York Dolls Gutter Glam of the End of the 1970s"

The New York Dolls spent most of 1972-74 defining proto-punk gutter glam rock, while also making it cool to be stupid sloppy (unlike that era’s British glam rock) and revel in your sleaziest tendencies. But the Stooges did that too a couple years earlier, refining it with Raw Power in 1973, which ends up being a perfect statement of sleazy gutter glam, so maybe the Dolls did do it first, by like a few months or something? Anyway, the sheer sonic scuzz of the early Stooges beat everyone to the punk punch, and so it was that punch particularly that predominated underground r'n'r evolution for a few years. Punk happened, and the Dolls drifted into the ether. Except for their makeup and clothing choices. 

So while the general punk esthetic filtered it's way through all new rock from 1974 on, the Dolls' garish template, not to mention Kiss' concurrent foofy ways -- really, seriously, not to mention, because I loathe to give Kiss any more ink of any kind, and fuck those guys. Yeah, they have like 7 really fun tunes, but Jesus, Gene Simmons?! Enough already!! But there you have it, it's kinda undeniable -- those two NYC bands convinced up'n'comer bands who appreciated the pro-anti-muscial ability angle, but still liked tasty licks that their future was wrapped in spandex and mascara.

Razor Boys, 1980

With the Dolls neatly forgotten in the mainstream, Kiss became the face of the ridiculous cartoon pop that metal would soon become, but the little girly boys understood. Bands as big as Aerosmith and Van Halen, or as underground as the Imperial Dogs, Teenage Head, the Shit Dogs, and DMZ knew from whence their hairdo tips and trashy riffs came. Throw in a little of the innocent love of a fine vintage guitar hook and three-minute tunes -- rather than the stadium pomp, Led Zep posing that most hair metal of the ‘80s eventually took on -- and there's a neat little pocket there of non-pretentious, makeup-splattered, ripped jeans/silky shirt bands that peppered the otherwise non-glam end of the '70s rock underground.  Well we won't go too deep here, but basically, the daddies of this presumed genre would seem to be the Hollywood Brats whose followers will place them even keel with the Dolls. Uh, no, 'cause their songwriting just ain't as memorable. But their recordings -- neatly gathered on Sick on You (Cherry Red, 2016) and in the bio, Sick on You: The Disastrous Story of the Hollywood Brats, the Greatest Band You’ve Never Heard Of (Blue Rider Press, 2016) -- and the slow-burn, historical revisionist appraisal casts them as influential enough. 

By the mid-80s, these makeup streaks seeped into the wrinkles outside of the general underground punk gaze, as bands like Dogs D’Amour, Smack, and mostly Hanoi Rocks retained a semblance of street cred given their obvious Dolls affinity and ragged musical strutting. 

And that side street is where Razor Boys inadvertently stomped around, unbeknownst to, well, almost anybody except their fanbase in hometown Atlanta. In their brief existence, they only released one single, and it’s comped here for the first time with other unreleased recordings, circa 1978, out now on HoZac Records.

While forming, I doubt this forgotten crew thought of themselves as anything more or less than a good time party rock'n'roll band in no need of a critical genre distillation. But time's critical distillations winnow bands like this down through the years into something of a proto-punk shouldabeen. To wit the liner notes and brief interview with leader Ronnie Razor, where he proudly states they were about the only punk-like thing going for miles. He worked up the band around 1976, after soaking up the usual Alice Cooper and Slade funster-snot stuff, and even got to see the Stooges and Dolls a few times. His voice and the crunchy riffs drop his band right into the nascent hard rock / punk rock drag races that were unwittingly going on and wouldn't really be settled until the mid-80s, where the pretty mascara and the politicized macho split off completely.  

The Razor Boys' songwriting here does rival the Hollywood Brats; and thanks to the teen-sleazy topics and flailing drum roll/guitar sting cock fights, things really get nasty as it goes along, slicing a bloody line right into the "Here are 3 chords, go form a band" history book chapter. The liner notes’ claim that Razor Boys played with R.E.M. seem strange, since R.E.M. formed in 1980, and the band Razor Boys stopped in 1979. But boozy memories and faded timelines are all part of the winnowing. Not saying if this album had come out in 1978 it would've "changed everything," but it's one hell of a sharp-booted footnote. 

For me, the raggedly silly gutter glam band of my winnow window was a tough Cleveland combo called the High Plains Drifters. Dragging their half-empty bottle of Jack around the early time slots at Cleveland punk shows circa 1985, they had one excellent self-released single, maybe a cassette (?), but otherwise disappeared. 

There was also Sweet Pain, a Ms. Breck-indebted gang who aimed for Van Halen-like fame over Dead Boys-y cred, and missed both marks by a lot, but were a fun time live. They dished up one self-titled LP (Combat, 1985). 

But it would follow that every mid-sized town had one of these: a band of 4-5 guys, probably the second band for most of them, weened on Kiss but welcomed by the local DIY pr punk dive because they couldn't get a gig at the clubs that might actually pay because they couldn't exactly replicate Kiss covers -- and thank god for that! Then one of them figured out maybe they could play "well" enough and joined some sad attempt at stardumb; the others got yelled at by their parents, never liked how mascara melts down into your eyes anyway, and took some job; and the singer thought he could write a movie script or get a gig in the rag industry and moved to NYC or L.A. 

Life winnows on...