#hope you like it West * kisses you on the forehead /p *

[snailsnaps]

Further, for thy sake Open my mouth and scream aloud with me Arise and then break out Denote my place within humanity The image of a face is on a wall with solid iron claws A happy face of me It's not a nightmare, just some nonsense

🎶🎧🎵 RECKLESS BATTERY BURNS - Ghost and Pals 🎵🎧🎶

New Hardware is a fanfic by @west-brooke - read it :) /th /aff

[sissylittlefeather]

Role Play Part 1: Good Cop, Bad Cop

A/N: This might be a one-shot or maybe I'll write more parts. I haven't decided yet. It'll depend on whether anyone likes it. But this is based on photos from Sonny West's wedding. It's Elvis x fem!reader and it is dirrttyyyy.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (m & f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, gun play, Elvis being bossy and dom, infidelity, cop roleplay, handcuffs, I think that's everything?

Word count: ~3.5k

When your cousin asked you to help with one of her catering events, you weren't exactly excited. However, you changed your mind when you found out who the event was for.

"You know who Sonny West is, right?!" You frantically ask your cousin.

"Kind of? All I know is Elvis Presley is picking up the tab for the whole wedding."

"I will absolutely help you with this event." You smile and grab her arm, squeezing it gently. This is the opportunity of a lifetime and you've never been happier to be related to her.

******

On the day of the big event, you spend an inordinate amount of time in the bathroom doing your hair and makeup. Everything has to be perfect on the off chance you happen to get to meet Elvis. You know it's a long shot, but still, this is a better chance than you've ever had before. Once you feel like the look is complete with your tight black skirt and white button down, you head out the door. You're assigned to work the after party at Graceland, so you get in your car and drive that way.

The wedding party isn't there yet when you arrive, but they will be soon, so you get to work helping prepare food and set out trays.

You're in the kitchen when you hear the party arrive and everyone heads out to their assigned spot. You're putting the finishing touches on your tray, though, so you stay behind in the kitchen. That's when you see him for the first time.

He saunters into the kitchen to get a bottle of his favorite water from the fridge. You don't notice him walk in, so you're startled when the refrigerator door opens. You gasp and put your hand on your heart, glad you didn't drop the tray you're holding.

"Oh, I'm sorry darlin', I didn't mean to scare ya." He drawls. Your mouth drops open a little at the sight of him there in his velvet suit and white tie. You've suddenly forgotten how to speak English. "What's your name, honey?"

A smirk plays across his mouth. He's enjoying the fact that he's got you speechless as you search your brain for the answer to his question. After way too much time, you finally get it out.

"My name is y/n. You're..."

"I am. It's nice to meet you, y/n. Welcome to my home."

"It's nice." You cringe a little with your response and he smiles.

"Thank you. I better get back out there. Hopefully we run into each other again." He winks shamelessly and you blush as he leaves the kitchen. You take a deep breath and head out to your assigned post near the drink table.

You stand there for about twenty minutes before you feel eyes on you from across the room. When you make eye contact he winks again and smiles. He obviously isn't paying much attention to the conversation he's supposed to be in. Your cheeks flush and it suddenly feels very warm in the room. You decide it's time for a bathroom break and grab another waiter to let them know where you're going. You get there and wash your hands with cold water, pressing them to your cheeks when you finish. You look in the mirror and shake your head a little and then head out the door. What you don't expect is to almost run smack into Elvis when you leave the bathroom.

"Oh my gosh!" You put your hands on his chest to keep from running into him and look up at him as he chuckles.

"I guess I did say I hoped to run into you." You nod, speechless again. "Are you afraid of me?" His eyebrows knit together in the center of his forehead, showing his concern. Finally, you find your voice.

"No! I'm sorry; I'm just a little starstruck. I can't believe you're talking to me."

"Why wouldn't I be talking to you? Look at you." He gently brushes some of your hair out of your face and tucks it behind your ear. You look at each other for a while and his eyes flick down to your mouth. Then, he cups your chin in his hand and starts to lean in towards you. As he presses his lips to yours softly, fireworks go off somewhere behind your navel. He pulls back slowly and you hear a voice.

"Boss, they're asking for you again." He sighs deeply and turns to the man sent to summon him.

"I thought I told you not to disturb me tonight."

"It's Priscilla. She-"

"Enough. I'm coming." He turns back to you and smiles. "I'll find you again. Don't worry."

When he leaves you there in the hallway, your breath comes in deep waves and you feel like you might pass out. Elvis Presley kissed you. And it seems like he'd like to do it again. You decide then and there that you'll let him- and more if that's what he wants. After gathering yourself a bit, you go back to your post next to the drink table.

When you get there, Elvis is doing some kind of demonstration with a few of his guns and badges. He's taken his jacket off and you can't get over how good he looks with his shoulder holster and belts showing. He holds up a long rifle and someone takes a picture as he talks. The way his rings clack against the wood and metal and he holds his cigarillo against the butt of the gun makes your warm center even warmer. The masculinity of the scene hits you in the soft and feminine parts of you and you don't just want him, you need him.

When he notices you watching with your mouth opened slightly, he gives you a knowing smile and licks his lips. A shiver runs down your spine and you pray that he will come talk to you again. You serve drinks and pass out smiles and wait patiently for him to be free.

Finally, he catches your eye and nods towards the kitchen. You don't hesitate to head that direction. When you get there, it's bustling with activity. He comes in behind you and you hear his voice boom.

"OUT!" All the waitstaff look at each other and then back at him. "You heard me!"

They gather their things quickly and leave, so that it's just you and him. As soon as you're alone, he wraps his arms around your waist from behind and kisses the back of your neck under where you have your hair pulled up. He whispers into your ear.

"I saw you watching me with my guns. Would you like to see more of them?" You close your eyes with the sensation of his breath on your ear, but you manage to respond softly.

"Yes, please."

"Come with me." He unwraps himself from around you and takes your hand. He leads you up the staircase and through his office to his bedroom. You know someone must have seen you, but it doesn't seem like anyone cares. Or maybe they've just learned not to say anything. Either way, you find yourself standing in Elvis Presley's bedroom as he shows you his small arsenal.

He describes each gun in detail, but you're so distracted by how attractive he is that you would fail a test if he gave you one. Finally, he pulls out a small pistol and makes sure it's completely unloaded. Then, he hands it to you.

"You know how to hold one of these?"

"I don't." He steps behind you again and makes sure you have the gun pointed away from anything. He puts his hands on your waist.

"Feet shoulder-width apart." He runs his hands up to your arms. "Arms straight." He slides his hands down to yours and makes sure your stance is strong. In doing so, he also presses his rock hard cock into your ass. You damn near melt where you're standing. Then, he pulls back quickly.

"What?" You ask, nervously, afraid that he's changed his mind for some reason.

"Little lady, do you have a license for that firearm?" He has a playful smirk again, so you relax.

"No, sir, I don't." He pulls a badge from his pocket.

"Then, I'm afraid I'm going to have to arrest you." Sliding open a drawer, he lifts out a pair of handcuffs. He leans in close to your ear and whispers. "Let me know if this is too much."

"It's not."

"Well, alright then." He takes the gun from you and turns you around, pulling you close to him and kissing you deeply, his tongue sliding into your mouth to dance with yours. He pulls back and looks you in the eye. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but you can kiss me and tempt me all you want. I still have to arrest ya."

You walk together towards the bed with him still wrapped around you and your mouths pressed together, kicking off your shoes as you go. He tosses the handcuffs on the bed and then lifts your shirt up and over your head. Then, he removes his heavy belts, letting them drop to the floor, and his shoulder holster, tie, and necklace. He lets you undo the buttons on his shirt and push it down his arms and off. His hands run up and down your body and then move to your back to unhook your bra. He lays you on the bed and reaches for the handcuffs.

"I hate to do this, but illegal use of a firearm is a pretty serious offense." He speaks matter-of-factly as he handcuffs your wrists around the bedpost. "Some punishment is in order."

With every word, your dripping center becomes wetter and wetter and your absolute need for him grows. He unzips your skirt and slides it down your thighs and off, leaving you in just your panties. With his hands on the inside of each thigh, he spreads your legs. Then, he runs a hand up to your core and feels the wetness there with his thumb.

"Mm. Good girl knows what I like."

"What are you gonna do to me, Officer?" His eyes light up when you play along with his game. You can tell this is a fantasy for him and you're not about to ruin it now. Besides, it's turning you on more than you care to admit.

"I'm gonna make sure you don't do anything like this again."

He moves back up to your chest and runs his tongue around your nipple while you squirm beneath his touch. He sucks lightly on the other nipple and kisses down your stomach. He presses a kiss to the place where your panties are so wet. "Is this what you want, baby?"

You moan softly with the feeling of him so close to where you want him.

"Yes, sir. Please. I promise I'll never do it again." He slides your panties off and puts his finger to your entrance, collecting the wetness gathered there to rub circles on your clit.

"Bad girls deserve to be punished. Are you a bad girl or a good girl, y/n?" He asks.

"I was nice and wet for you, Officer."

"That's true, but you still had that illegal firearm. I think you're a bad girl." He slides two fingers inside you and presses them as far as they'll go, his rings cold against your entrance. Then, he pumps them in and out quickly and lowers his mouth to your clit. He licks over and around it vigorously as you get closer and closer to your climax. When he feels your walls flutter, he backs off of you and pulls both fingers out. You whimper frantically and whisper.

"Noooo, Officer, please!"

"Bad girls don't get to cum when they want to. If you want to be a good girl, you'll cum when you're told."

"Yes sir, please I promise, don't stop!" He goes back to pumping two fingers inside of you, stopping to tickle your sensitive spot every once in a while.

"Does my bad girl want my tongue again?"

"Yes, Officer, please."

"Ask for what you want."

"I want you to lick my pussy again, sir." He gives you a smirk and slides off the bed. When he walks over to the gun case, his pants form a tent around his erection. He fetches the small, unloaded pistol, checking it again for bullets, and walks back to the bed.

"I need to show you how bad this gun can be before I give you want you want."

You nod, hoping he'll let you cum this time. But he doesn't go back to licking you. Instead, he takes the cold metal of the gun and pushes it to your clit gently. You gasp at the sensation and squirm again. He begins to use the tip of the barrel to tease your clit, rubbing it over and around on you carefully. Surprisingly, the sensation is a good one and at one point you cry out in pleasure.

"Oh God, Elvis."

"Does my bad girl want to cum?" He asks as he moves the gun on you gently.

"Yes, please, fuck!"

"Are you gonna be a good girl from now on?"

"Yes, Officer, please!" You moan and he pulls the gun away from you and sets it on the bed. He gets close to your center and blows on your clit gently.

Your orgasm seems to be teetering right on the edge and it's driving you insane. He kisses your hip and down to your pussy again.

"Has my bad girl learned her lesson?" You nod frantically and beg again as he licks up your slit to your clit and back down again.

"Yes! Yes! Please let me cum!" He smiles and presses his lips to your clit. Then, he begins to lick you again, sliding two fingers inside you, and you're so close that it almost hurts.

"Cum for me, baby." He whispers and you whimper as you feel your orgasm closing in. "Remember, good girls do what they're told."

He tightens his tongue to a point and licks directly over your clit hard and your center explodes with waves of undeniable pleasure, crashing over and over as you shake and pulse around his fingers.

"Oh, God, Elvis!" You cry out, completely forgetting about the party going on downstairs. He laughs and slides his fingers out of you.

"Good girl. Now I think it's time you try to convince me not to take you downtown." He retrieves a small key and unlocks the handcuffs, giving you access to your hands again.

"Yes, Officer." You push him down to lay on his back and settle between his legs. Then, you pull his pants down just enough to let his cock spring free. He moans softly as you run your hand up and down his shaft, rolling back his foreskin. When you lean down and lick the tip of his dick gently, he inhales sharply. You pull as much of him into your mouth as possible, gagging a little to fit him. He groans with the sensation of hitting the back of your throat. You pick up a steady rhythm of bouncing on him as you massage his balls.

"Yes, yes, that's my good girl." He moans, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. When you can tell he's getting close, you pull him in deeply again and back off.

"So am I going to jail?" You ask with a pout.

"I'm almost convinced to let you go." He pushes his pants the rest of the way down his legs and flips you over onto your back, lining his cock up with your dripping entrance. "Just one... last... thing."

When he gets to the final word, he pushes into you deeply, filling you fully in one thrust.

"Fuck, Elvis!" You cry out again at the sensation of being stretched and filled so quickly.

"Goddamn, you feel good, baby." He whispers in your ear as he begins to pump in and out of you. After a few minutes, he pushes your knees up so that your feet are pressed against his chest. As he fucks into you, he has one hand on your foot and he leans down and kisses your toe. "Such pretty little feet. Did ya paint these nails just for me?"

"I did." You respond breathlessly as he pounds you over and over again. The feeling is almost overwhelming in the best way possible.

"Good girl. Such a good girl for me." Suddenly, he pulls out and rolls you over, spanking your ass lightly. "Get on your knees, babe."

"Yes sir." You get on your hands and knees as instructed. He holds your hip with one hand and uses his other to tease your slit with the tip of his cock. "Does my good girl want me to fuck her?"

"Yes, Officer, please." You whimper and beg.

He grunts as he pushes into you from behind, putting his other hand on your hip to brace you as he begins to slam into you over and over. His balls slap against you as he fucks you vigorously and you let out a soft cry with each thrust. It feels so good as his length hits your sensitive spot time and time again. He reaches around and begins to make circles on your clit as he fucks you.

"'M gonna cum soon, baby. Cum with me." He moans as he continues to push into you powerfully and rub your clit. Your breasts bounce with every impact and you wish he would never stop.

"Yes sir." You already feel your climax building and you cum hard, your orgasm running through you like wildfire just as he slams into you and moans loudly. You feel his warmth inside you and it just adds to the pleasure of your own pulsing orgasm. He pats on your ass before pulling out.

"That's my good girl."

He slides out of you and you lay down next to each other on the bed looking up at the ceiling, sweating and breathing heavily.

"Thank you, Officer." You turn your head and meet his eyes. His playful smirk is back.

"Anything for a sweet thing like you." He takes your hand and kisses your fingers in a gesture more intimate than your situation.

Suddenly, there's a quiet knock on the door and a voice nervously calls out.

"Boss, I know you said not to bother you, but your wife keeps asking where you are. What should I tell her?"

He looks at you with a devilish glint in his eye and mouths, "oh shit."

You cover your mouth and try not to giggle as he calls back to whomever is at the door.

"Tell her I had some police business to attend to."

The guy at the door walks away and Elvis rolls over onto you and peppers your face with kisses.

"Thank you for indulging me tonight." He leans in and kisses your mouth deeply. "That's more fun than I've had in a long time."

Something that's almost like sadness seems to settle on him and you kiss the end of his nose lightly.

"Of course! It was really fun for me too." He smiles again and kisses your cheek. Then, he rolls off of you and you both start to get dressed. He puts the gun and the handcuffs back where they belong.

"I'll tell you what, I'll never look at this pistol the same way again." You laugh and try to smooth your hair in the mirror. He wraps his arms around you from behind and kisses the back of your neck once more.

"Can I see you again?" You look at him in the mirror with his chin on your shoulder.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea. You're married."

"Ehhhh, for now. I like you. Please?"

You turn around in his arms to face him.

"Now who's begging?" You joke playfully. He makes a pouty face.

"Please, baby. You can pick the role play next time." You raise an eyebrow. That idea is intriguing.

"Can I be in charge?"

"Honey, you can do whatever you want if you dress up for me."

"Deal." He leans in to kiss you and there's another knock at the door. He rolls his eyes and sighs.

"Boss, she really-"

"Will ya let me deal with 'er? I'll be down there in a minute." He turns his attention back to you. "I have to go. I'll find you. We'll do this again. On my honor as a cop." He winks and unwraps himself from around you, kissing you sweetly one last time. As you make your way down the stairs and back to your post, you suppose your cousin probably won't ask for your help again.

When you make eye contact with him across the room again, though, you really don't care. He's worth it.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

So do we want more?

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @ashtag6887 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

Tragic Kingdom: Part 5

So I effed around and made this a reverse haram. I'm not sure if it's just for this chapter or not so don't get excited. But, just so we are clear on the warnings again: M/F/M, p in v, oral, mentions of child loss, magical spells gone wrong. 18+ please and thank you.

Geralt met you at the end of the long aisle in front of the dais. Loki trailed behind you looking grief stricken. “You look stunning, Dove. Did you let the prince down gently at least? He looks devastated.” You giggled at the question. 

“He did not come to steal me away from you if that is what you are implying, dear husband. We have been raised like brothers and sisters. He simply misses me. And, I admit I miss him too.”

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “I could smell him on you on our wedding night and I smell him now. Though, tonight you do not smell of sex. So I hope whatever transpired has ended. I do not like to share.” Your cheeks warmed at his admission. This was not the place to argue. The two of you walked to the front of the crowd where he presented you to his parents. You were filled with righteous indignation as you bowed before your father in law. He placed the diadem on your head and proclaimed you Princesse of Vanaheim and future Queen. The crowd roared in approval. You rose to your feet, turned to them and plastered a smile on your face. You and Geralt shared a chased kiss and signaled the festivities to begin. Once it was safe to slip away you pulled him into a quiet room to inform him of this evening's plans. 

He went through every stage of grief starting with shock and rage. There were tears and apologies and, through it all, he begged you not to comfort him. He should be comforting you. “You can leave. I will not stop you. I will not allow this ritual. You are more precious to me than a child who does not yet exist. Please, Dove. I’ve watched my sisters bury their children. I refuse to see the same happen to us.” You held his hands in yours and assured him that you would be perfectly safe. You tried to push him back into the party but he would not go. “If I have to look at my father right now I will murder him where he stands. My place is with you. Your pain is also mine to endure.” 

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In the cover of night Njord took you to a part of the palace that he used for rituals. You would not be disturbed. Geralt and Loki tried to no avail to talk you out of this. You would see it through. Frigga and Njord tied you down to an altar space and began painting your naked body with runes. Over your belly, the rune for fertility, protection and power for your heart and mind. They bathed you in lamb's blood and handed Loki and your mother athames to make precise cuts at your north, south, east and west. Your blood began to mingle with the blood of the lamb. Geralt stayed close by wishing you would stop. You had taken it all relatively well until it was time for the potion that Loki called bottled death. Frigga insisted it was not that serious but your mother looked as though she was going to pass out when Loki uncapped it. “Geralt, she will be in intense pain once I apply this liquid. Are you sure you wish to stay?” Frigga asked. 

“I will not leave her side. May I hold her hand?”

“Yes, of course. In fact, you”ll need to hold her down. Y/N are you sure? We can stop at any time.” 

“Allmother, please continue. Everyone stop looking at me in that manner. I will be good as new soon.” Frigga began to pour when Loki took the bottle from her hands. 

“I will do it. Kjære, if you will not reconsider then I will begin.” He kissed your blood soaked forehead and signaled Geralt to take your hands. You could hear both their hearts pounding in their chests. With a deep breath you signaled Loki to begin. 

At first you only felt cold. Your body began to shiver then you shook violently when it began to soak into your open wounds. You screamed and convulsed with pain. Geralt begged Loki to stop but you screamed at him to continue. The four mages flanked your body and choked out a spell in an old dead language. All that you could hear was Geralt telling you he loved you, willing you to live, begging you not to leave him. Finally, when every bit was absorbed, you went still. Nearing the brink of unconsciousness you faintly heard your mother crying and Njord ordering Geralt to get you in the tub of water. “Scrub her clean,” he barked. Geralt and Loki worked together to get every inch of you free from blood and grime that soaked into your skin and hair. 

“Please, Dove. Please wake up. I love you.” Geralt said again and again in your ear. He lifted you from the tub so Loki could wrap you in white vestments. Your husband carried you to your bed where the group held vigil at your bedside. You did not wake for two days. 

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In your dream state you found yourself face to face with Sarai. She was beautifully dressed in blue holding her son. “Your journey will be a fruitless one, little witch. There is only one way to lift my spell.” The babe looked just like you imagined Geralt did. She rocked him to shush his cries.

“You can end this, Sarai. Geralt should not be punished for the king’s wrongdoings. Please.”

“I did help him!” she raged. “He lives does he not? I died the day my son was taken from me and again to let your husband live lest you forget.” You would get nowhere with this conversation. You had to appeal to her as a mother. 

“He’s beautiful.” you said, gazing down at her son. “May I hold him?” She smiled warmly at the chubby boy in her arms bouncing him on her hip. He didn’t take his amber eyes off of you. 

“Of course you can. He is yours after all.” The baby smiled at you in recognition. You held out your arms and he flung his tiny body forward. He was your son. He had Geralt’s eyes and the elegant swoop of your eyebrows and curve of your nose. “Ivar will allow him to die in your arms. Why should he sit on the throne when he refused to protect his own family?” You held your son to your body and sobbed while he cooed and babbled against your chest. 

“Why would it matter if he has no mother?” 

“If Geralt is king, will he allow the council to hang you?” You knew he would murder them where they stood if any of them so much as touched a hair on your head. “You do not take their father you take the coward out of their lives who would sooner bury his sons and grandsons than relinquish his power. End their suffering. Their plan won’t work. I saw to that when I cast the spell.” 

“Plan?” you whispered “What plan?” 

Sarai cackled, “Of course they didn’t tell you. They struck a deal with the Allfather. He gathered the leaders of the realms and their mages to save Geralt, yes. But they had to find a way to break the curse. Your mother comes from an ancient line of healers but she and your father were barren. So they forged you out of the magic of all the realms. Your mother was the only vessel strong enough to contain the magic. You were bred to save Ivar’s line. Your marriage was arranged long ago. The deal ended the Vanir/Aesir war making Ivar forever beholden to Odin. Vanaheim has supplied Asgard with food for millennia.” 

You couldn’t breathe. You sank to the ground rocking your son trying to calm yourself. “When Loki said I was made for him…”

“It’s your power that called to him. The Jotuns used the Cask of Ancient Winters to imbue you with the frost giant’s magic. He feels it.” 

“Does he know what I am?” You were filled with so much rage that it tickled and burned the back of your throat. 

“No. Neither does Geralt. When Ivar came to me to ‘beg me to lift the spell’” she chuckled, “He really came to take my blood. All of it. Njord though, because Ari shared my blood, it could be used to break the curse. They were wrong. Like a true imbecile, Ivar told me of his plan. I died with a smile on my face because I knew they would fail miserably. My language was specific. It is only Ivar’s blood that breaks the curse.” She took your son from your arms and they both began to fade away. “If you want to see him again. You know what to do.” 

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The vast space you were in began to darken. Smoke clouded your vision and enveloped your body. You felt a pull in your womb then nausea washed over you. Your infertility charm was fighting against the rune painted on your belly. The rune won. You found your way out of the darkness back to your body willing yourself to open your eyes. You took a piece of the darkness with you. If the spell would not work, you would end the king’s life. When you awoke, Loki was the first person you saw.

“Kjære?! Someone get the prince. Quickly!” He held you up and kissed your face. “Say something. Please.”

“Water.” was all you could say. He grabbed the bedside pitcher which you snatched from his hands and drained in lieu of a glass. Geralt and your parents rushed into the room. Loki held you up until Geralt was able to get you in his arms. Your father and mother clutched each other waiting for you to speak. It was only Loki who could see at first. Something was wrong. You didn’t look like yourself. 

“My sweet Dove. Please say something.” Geralt was beside himself with worry.

“You look like shit, husband.” He laughed rumbling deep in his chest. 

“I feel like shit, wife. Can you sit up on your own or are you too weak?” You feigned weakness for him but the truth was you felt like you could topple a mountain. 

“Just hungry.” you lied. 

“Do not move. I will get you whatever you wish. Name it.” He still had not let you go. 

“Meat and a lot of it. And a barrel of wine.” Everyone giggled nervously around you. Njord pushed them all aside to listen to your heart and check you over. 

“She lost a lot of blood. The meat will replenish her iron. We’ll send for it right away. Come, everyone. Let’s let the princesse have some space to breathe.” 

“You’re sure you’re ok, dear?” Your mother asked. You could not look at your parents. They would have to wait. You had a hunger growing deep in your core and you could not help yourself. They all had to leave immediately. 

“Yes, I’m fine. Promise.” You shooed everyone away to spend a few moments alone with Geralt. Loki looked on warely. He could feel it. Could hear the whispers around you. You were changed. Geralt could feel it too. They shared a look as Loki left the room. 

“I’ve asked you not to lie to me, Dove.” Geralt said in monotone. 

“I couldn’t speak freely in front of my parents. I saw Sarai. She claimed the spell will not work.” You would not break his heart any further. Not until you spoke to your parents and Loki. 

“Then you went through hell for nothing.” 

“Not for nothing. I’ll find another path….”

“No!” he slammed his fist on the wall. “I will not lose you. The line dies with me.” 

“Unless we can convince the small council to allow our first born daughter to sit on the throne.” 

He laughed, “They will never go for it.” 

“Does the council rule Vanaheim or will you? I’ll slaughter them and promote a new council if I have to. With me, you will have no need for a mage. Njord will step aside.” 

It was not like you to speak that way. It gave him pause but he thought better of asking again if you were well. “You are a murderous little thing arent you? Let us pray it never needs to come to bloodshed.” 

“Perhaps I can find a spell that would guarantee I only have girls.” He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and you felt him smiling against your hair. 

“It is my lot in life to be surrounded by beautiful women. I could think of a worse fate.” He nipped at your jawline, awakening an overwhelming feeling of arousal. You ran your hands over his and worked your way into his lap. Before he knew what you were doing, you pulled up your nightgown and ground into his stiffening cock. “Dove, what are you doing?” You did not stop. His arms tightened, “You need rest.” 

“No, I need you to fuck me.” A light sheen of sweat glistened on your skin. You were too hot in all the clothing and blankets it was suffocating. You tore at your clothing, your skin felt too tight. All the while you continued to rub against him soaking his trousers. “Geralt, fuck me. I need it.” 

“You are boiling hot, Y/N. Stop. Let me get Njord or your mother.” He tried to push you away but you wouldn’t let him go. The scent of your arousal was beginning to overwhelm him. He had to be inside of you. He had to fill you up. 

His refusal angered you. You were in pain and he wouldn’t help you. “It hurts. Please, husband fuck me. Make it stop.” 

“No. Something is wrong. Stop! Let me get you help.” You whipped your body around to face him. Your pupils expanded leaving a thin ring of color surrounding depthless onyx. Geralt shouted for help enraging you. You slapped him hard across the face and lunged for him. Loki was the only one still pacing outside of the door. He burst in to see Geralt holding you down. 

“What’s happening?! Let her go!” Loki reached for Geralt’s hands when he noticed your eyes. 

“Loki” you whined, “My Prince please help me. I hurt. Please fuck me.” 

“It’s a side effect of the spell.” He muttered. “It must have sent the fertility charm into overdrive.” 

“What do we do?” Geralt struggled. 

“Give her what she wants.” 

“Are you insane? I cannot take advantage of her in this state.” You managed to wiggle out of Geralt’s hold back into his lap where you rutted against him furiously. 

“Looks as though it is the princesse who is taking advantage of you, my lord.” He leaned down and pressed his ear to your chest. His touch was electrifying. You moaned loudly and Loki’s body responded on instinct. “Her heartbeat is too fast. You have to do it. Put her out of her misery.” 

“Fuck.” He lifted you enough to unfasten his pants and sheathed himself in you. Your whole body shuddered as you reached your first orgasm. Loki tried to leave but Geralt stopped him. “Don’t leave. What if I hurt her?” You did not seem any better and Geralt was nearing his tipping point. “Dove, you have to slow down. I won’t last much longer.” 

“I can’t. I need more. Harder, Geralt. Please.” Tears flowed down your cheeks feeling no relief. Another orgasm slammed through your body but you still cried. When you came, so did Geralt. He kept fucking you until he could no longer maintain his erection. “Not enough” you cried. He tried fucking you with his fingers but you still begged for more. 

Loki and Geralt made eye contact. A silent plea from your husband to help you. “I’ve got you, Kjære.” You lay on top of your husband kissing him deeply while Loki took you from behind. His pace was brutal, punishing. It was everything you needed. 

“Yes, my Prince. So good. Harder.” Your moans spurred on Geralt who was quickly stiffening beneath you. 

“Do you want your princes to fill you, pet? 

“Yes. Need it.” Loki pounded faster bringing himself to the brink pulling out at the last second to spill hot seed over your thighs. Geralt replaced him pumping hard into you bringing you both over the edge into an earth shattering end. Finally you collapsed on your husband's chest panting and sated. When Loki stepped away you pulled him back to kiss him more passionately than he’s ever been kissed before. Geralt peppered kisses over your sweat soaked skin helping to calm you. “Thank you. You’ve both saved me. I felt like I was going to explode.” 

“Norns, pet. Next time you plan on spelling yourself into a frenzy, remind me to stay outside.” He kissed your shoulder and excused himself to clean up. 

“Are you feeling better, Dove?” Geralt stroked your wet hair 

“Much. I need a bath. Come with me?”

“Of course. But just a bath. I think you broke my cock.” 

You laughed against his chest, “Of course.” 

The bath felt marvelously hot, relaxing all of your muscles. Loki washed up and sat on the settee in the corner while Geralt washed you. You told him of your brush with Sarai. His blood ran cold thinking of all the pain you went through for nothing. He was unsure if your episode would be the last or if more was coming. It could be the fertility charm burning its way through you or something else. Something worse. You were different. Something lingered within you that he couldn’t place. All three of you agreed that it was best if he stayed behind for a few days. No one wanted you attacking an unsuspecting guard or, Norns forbid poor Njord. Besides, if you got that worked up again, Geralt would be unable to handle you on his own. 

After dinner Geralt excused himself, too exhausted to even stand. You stayed up with Loki to tell him of your conversation with Sarai. He was horrified and confused then finally relieved. “So you were not made for me but made of me. Understandable why I feel compelled to always be near you besides being hopelessly in love with you. How do you feel?” 

“Betrayed.” Loki understood all too well. It was only recently that he learned of his true parentage. “I need to talk to my parents.” 

“Tomorrow, Kjære. Get some rest.” 

“Will you stay with me?” He paused unsure of his next move. 

“The floor looks comfortable enough I suppose.” 

You took his hands and kissed both his palms, “Come to bed with us.” Unsure if you were still feeling the effects of the spell he tried to pull away. 

“I am quite sure your husband would not appreciate me in your marital bed. Good night, Kjære.” He kissed you, careful not to spur you on and excused himself. 

You remained in front of the fire conflicted, rehashing your entire life. Every memory of each deliberate move your parents made whilst raising you brought you to perfect clarity. You were no better than a prized dairy cow. 

At first light you will wake Geralt and divulge your secrets then you will find your parents to confront them. Sleep never came for you. You stayed in your chair stroking your belly quietly singing to your son who was already growing. 

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Geralt found you in the sitting room in front of the dying fire with the curtains drawn. You did not look up when you heard him walk into the room. You remained stock still save for the hand absentmindedly stroking your belly. Your skin was pale and a shadow formed under your eyes which looked black in the dim light. Or were your eyes changed?

“Y/n? Dove? Have you slept?” No answer. It was as though you were completely unaware that he was in the room. He ran a finger along your jawline and brought your face up to look at him. “Have you been out here all night?”

“We need to talk.” You told him every single detail of what Sarai told you. There was no way to mentally prepare himself for the raw emotion that spilled from him. “This ends now, Geralt. I have been sent here to save your line and I intend to.” 

“Let’s leave. I’ll abdicate. Let them fight out who will be king when father dies. Just me, you and our boy. Please do not put me in this position.” He rested his forehead against yours, “I have taken lives, my love. I have felt guilt every day since. Please do not do this to yourself.” 

You jumped from the chair and got in Geralt’s to make yourself abundantly clear, “Your father did not fight for any of you. Will you treat your son the same? If you will not fight for him, I will.” 

“This is me fighting.” he growled. “This is the honorable thing to do. I do not wish for you to feel the guilt I feel. You are too good to stain your soul this way.” 

“What will happen to me when our child dies in my arms? What of my soul then?” You held each other’s eyes for several moments before you could trust your voice to speak. “Let me do what I was created to do.” 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The two of you left the conversation unresolved which made you even more angry on the way to speak to your parents. They were all enjoying breakfast when you bounded into the room in your nightclothes, your hair wild. “Mother and father, I need a moment.” 

“Elskan, you look terrible. Have you eaten? Sit down. Have some tea.” No one took their eyes off of you. 

“Now. Please.” Your father opened his mouth to scold you but your mother quieted him and followed you to your chambers. “What am I? And before you lie, I already know. I simply want to hear you say it.” 

“Who told you?” Your mother asked exasperated. 

“That is irrelevant. What am I?”

“Our daughter.” Your father chimed in. 

“Lies. Have I ever had a choice about who I married?” 

“No. I’m sorry, sweetheart but no. We tried to minimize any damage but you were just like any young woman. You had needs. Desires. And you were so happy.” Astrid tried to touch you but you recoiled. 

Tears started flowing down your face when you realized what she meant, “Fandral?”

“It had to be done.” 

“Norns, mother. I blamed Loki. Loki blamed himself. That almost destroyed us.” 

“That was a happy accident. Had to get you away from Loki or else you would have never asked to court. We wanted it to be your decision.” Kasper explained. 

“But it was never my decision. My life is not my own. I have no idea if my husband truly loves me or if his feelings are the result of some spell. Do you know how that feels?! You need to leave. All of you.” 

“But, Elskan, you do not look well. Let us stay to help you through this.” 

“You’ve done quite enough. Please leave.” 

“We love you, Y/n. You are our daughter and we want to be here for you.” Your mother tried and failed to hug you. 

“You are not my mother. You were nothing more than my incubator.” She winced as though you slapped her. 

“Then we will take our leave. Be well, Elskan.” 

They left to gather their things with only the sound of your mother’s sobs trailing behind them. You hadn’t noticed Loki slip into the room. “Am I included in the ‘all of you’ part? He asked sheepishly. 

“For now. Please don’t argue. Don’t make this any harder. Geralt and I have things we must work through.” You paced back and forth picking at your fingers muttering to yourself. 

“I take it your conversation didn’t go well.” 

“He wants to abdicate. Like that will do anything to quell the curse.” 

Loki stepped closer and sensed your tension, “May I touch you?” You did not stop him when he placed his hands on your shoulders nor when he stepped closer to hold you. “You will do what needs to be done. And, if you must flee, I will follow.” 

“So will I.” Geralt’s gravely voice sounded from the doorway. “No spell, no matter how powerful, could force me to feel the way I do about you. You are my wife.” You turned, still in Loki’s arms, to face your husband. “The mother of my son.”

A warm smile played across his lips as he tenderly touched your belly. “I will support whatever decision you make.” He pressed a kiss to your lips leaning you back against Loki’s chest. “I’ll leave you to say goodbye. Thank you for everything. And I am being sincere when I say I hope you return sooner rather than later.” He winked at Loki and stepped out of the room. 

[teeztheflag]

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Mafia!Ateez reaction to their child telling them that a member is flirting with you

trigger warnings ⚠️ mafia themes, flirting, mentions of cheating, possessive behavior, murder, alcohol, sexual harassment (slight)

general taglist: @latte-fairytaekwoon @little-precious-baby @yunhobabygurl @multidreams-and-desires @purplelady85 @smallfrye​

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k i m  h o n g  j o o n g

„Where’s mommy?“ Your little son ran up to Hong Joong to be picked up by the mafia leader.

His eyes wander over the crowd at the garden gathering and when he’s not spotting you he flashes a little smile at his son.

„Mommy is talking to a man.“

Hong Joong nudges the little boy to whereas he points into a direction. Following the path around the house he sees you talking to none other than Kang Yeo Sang. His rival.

When Yeo Sang places his palm on your cheek you take a step back and frown at the boy. Hearing a cough behind you a smile escapes your form. The rival on the other hand rolls with his eyes and lets out a huff.

You’re quick to stand next to your husband and take your son into your arms leaving the two mafia leaders behind.

„You’re getting on my nerves, Kang.“

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p a r k  s e o n g  h w a

„(y/n)...“

You stood stiff in Seong Hwa‘s lavish office. Your gaze trained to the ground and your heart sinking to the bottom when he neared your form. He placed his cold fingers under your chin to raise your head. Locking his eyes with you a sigh escapes him.

„You know you belong to me. Why are you still resisting?“

„I don’t know what you are talking about.“

Seong Hwa engulfs you into his embrace leaning your head on his shoulder.

„Even our princess doesn’t like you betraying me. I will make sure you are not seeing him again.“

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j e o n g  y u n  h o

„And what did he say after that?“

Yun Ho caressed his daughters soft hair while she sat on his lap in their livingroom.

„That he will hurt her. I don’t remember so much... He was really scary daddy!“

With big glossy eyes Yun Ho feels his heart shattering. His daughter being so afraid for his light of the world.

He wouldn’t let Choi San get away with this.

After bringing his angel to bed he visits your shared bedroom to see you being asleep. You’re stirring and he can only guess that your nightmares are back.

With a gun and a sharp knife hidden in his suit he drives fast through the night. His team is already ready to blow up the place.

And with the final hit Yun Ho grabs the ex lover of his wife by his collar.

„I told you to stay away from us. That she is not your business anymore. What were you thinking?“

San struggles in his grip but manages to bring out his probably last words. „Kill me, but, live with the knowledge that she will never love you.“

He dropped to the ground and Yun Ho grasps his shaking hands together rage filling his body.

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k a n g  y e o  s a n g

When your son repeatedly told Yeo Sang that he really liked the guy that was around you since a few weeks he was relieved. It was good Woo Young seemed to do his job right. After the last attack he wanted the both of you safe all the time. That’s why he send one of his best men that he trusted with all of his might.

It was only when he tucked him into bed that he stopped in his tracks being deep in thoughts. He goes downstairs and pours himself a glass of wine. He jolts a little bit when you embrace him from behind and he turns around to eye you with a sharp gaze. Tilting his head you step back and flash him a small smile.

„What’s up?“

„Woo Young‘s taking good care of you, right?“

You frown and immediately know by the tone he uses that something‘s not to his liking, and, Kang Yeo Sang not liking something was bad.

„He is, he is doing a good job. I guess.“

„Hyun Jin likes him, too. But you know what he just told me?“

You absentmindedly reach out to him to probably cool down his anger.

„He told me that uncle Woo Young was really close to you. Close like ‚daddy‘, when I asked him what he meant with that.”

“Yeo Sang, he’s not. He is just friendly. Hugging me as a greeting nothing more.“

„You think our three year old son is lying to me? (y/n), I warn you, I know him. Don’t take his flirting attempts light hearted.“

You nod at him knowing he wouldn’t take any arguing.

„If you can’t stop him I will give him a different job.“ With a last sip he finishes his glass and roughly pulls you into him to place a delicate and territorial kiss on your forehead.

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c h o i  s a n

„Dad, I don’t know how to say this but... I am really worried for your marriage. I mean is everything fine?“

San takes his cup of coffee sitting down on the breakfast table in front of your fourteen year-old daughter. He really needed a moment to register So Ra‘s words.

„What? Of course everything‘s fine! Or what are you even talking about?“

So Ra‘s gaze is trained on the buttered toast in front of her a deep frown taking place on her forehead.

„Yesterday at the gala... and I don’t know if I am mistaking things, but, I feel like she was flirting with this CEO named Song.“

San‘s eyes widened and he quickly takes a another sip from his coffee. „Oh, ehm, believe me your mother has always had her effect on...men.“

„Yeah, but, dad - the guy was literally stripping her naked with his eyes - “

„Choi So Ra! Your words!“ So Ra gestures a sorry with her hands but she didn’t want her mother to be so close to other men. She loved her parents dearly and she wanted to have a marriage like them in the future.

„Really, anyways, don’t worry. Everything‘s perfect. If there’s a problem we would never lie to you, promise!“ He holds his pinky for So Ra and with a relieved sigh she links it like she and her dad always did.

„Good morning!“ You place a kiss on your daughter‘s cheek and send a smirk to San being proud you got the right information last night.

San looks at his two princesses and has to hold back a laugh. If their daughter only knew their jobs things would be more dangerous but in many ways easier, too.

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s o n g  m i n  g i

„What means ‚sexy‘?“

You nearly caugh at your son‘s words quickly drinking something. Min Gi also nearly doubles over laughing while typing away a text for his members for their mission.

„Dong In! I thought we talked about this already.“

Your son was a persistent person eyeing you suspiciously.

Min Gi places his device on the table continuing to eat the soup for their shared dinner. „It means beautiful, but, it’s not a really polite word, Dong In.“

„Ah, so Mr. Kim is not polite to you Mum?“ That indeed catches your husband‘s attention.

„What is he talking about, (y/n)?“ A sly smile leaves him.

You groan out knowing sooner or later your son would’ve told him. „Well, Dong In‘s teacher just seems to need a talk with me about our son occasionally. And today he told me that he thinks I am ‚beautiful‘. Right, Dong In?“ Your son wasn’t paying attention anymore but with a naive sigh he slurped the rest of his soup.

„He said mommy‘s a sexy thing.“

„Dong In!“ Min Gi slowly sits back flexing his arm‘s muscles. He eyes you with a hungry gaze while he nudges Dong In.

„Next time Mr. Kim is telling your mother that she’s beautiful you say that your dad thinks so, too. Alright buddy?“ Min Gi fist bumps with your son.

„Got it!“

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j u n g  w o o  y o u n g

Woo Young wasn’t really a jelous man. He knew his worth and he also tend to be proud of the woman at his sight. Your auro caught the gazes of many men and that only boosted the mafia‘s ego.

When a man was flirting with you it was for you to play by the game. Being raised into the mafia business yourself you knew how to handle those greedy bastards.

Woo Young only smirked in the back of a booth when someone sneaked into the seat next to you at the bar. His men ready at any given chance to beat up the poor soul that tried to take what was Jung‘s.

But - he also loved your sneaky site.

It was only a button that you pushed too far when your daughter went up to his daddy to cry about how you were not giving her enough attention at the big gathering. Like the father himself their princess needed the recognition from her beloved ones.

Woo Young‘s gaze darkened when he saw you being corned by the one and only mafia leader of the west - Choi Jong Ho.

„That b - “

„Daddy! You didn’t want to swear! Mommy told you not to swear!“

„Ahhh, you’re right darling.“ He turned around to give his daughter into Seong Hwa‘s arms - one of his members.

With confident steps he emerges your form at the end of the room where Jong Ho was busy playing with your hair while talking about his latest wins in the business.

„Choi. Would you mind keeping your hands to yourself?“ Woo Young was raging by now. You didn’t stop the rival from touching you and the naive smile you send to your lover only angered him more.

„Let’s ask the lady what she wants.“ Jong Ho wiggles his eyebrows at Woo Young and you mentally facepalmed knowing Mr. Jung would scream bloody murder in a few seconds.

„I am sorry Mr. Choi.“ You gracefully step into Woo Young‘s arms giving him the satisfaction of winning this little debate with his rival. Jong Ho laughs out loud and turns around to leave the two of you.

„If you want attention ask for it. Don’t make me mad, baby.“

You lock eyes with him putting on a pout. „This way it is much more fun!“

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c h o i  j o n g  h o

It was the final day your son got introduced to the mafia world. A big party was held for him after he was prepared for everything over months. It was also his 16th birthday party and you had tears in your eyes knowing he was growing into a man so quickly really assembling his father in many ways.

It has been Park Seong Hwa‘s presence that put you off. He was an acquaintance of your clan for a long time but you didn’t really like the guy. When he approached you after dinner, when you were ushering your son to dance with a girl on the dancefloor, you immediately knew he was going to get on your nerves again.

He made jokes, touched you and clearly invaded your personal space. For the sake of your peaceful agreement you played his game hoping someone would come to help you out of your misery.

„Dad, I will literally kick this guy‘s balls if - “

„I already know about it.“ Jong Ho‘s gaze is fixed on your figure across the room. He turns to his son and tells him to have fun. He would take care of the matter.

Jong Ho soundlessly leans into your side leading Seong Hwa to roll with his eyes. He places a meaningful and strong kiss on your trembling lips catching your weight with his arms to steady you.

Playfully he turns around to the mafia a smile adoring his features. „Mr. Park. I didn’t even see you there!“ You’re quick to leave the duo to get to the toilet knowing by the squeeze Jong Ho just gave you a few seconds ago.

„Still so possessive I see. Let us leave this by complimenting you on your still beautiful wife.“ He let’s out a giggle while eying the crowd.

„Thank you, Seong Hwa. Seems to be running in my family.“

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↺ back to navi

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[leftenant-sinani]

3,7,21 for Trildyn for the oc ask

(Sorry it took me so long to write a response) The Lord raises brow, surprised to hear such questions towards him. He stares at you for a while with his blood red eyes, thinking of a response. He taps his chin as he proceeds to just smile, rendering his white teeth visible. "Well then, my dear friend," He says in soft tone. "You want answers about me? You shall have them."

What is your favourite childhood memory? A small glint appears in his eye, making it look like a shiny ruby. He sighed as he's starting to track down his memories. "I admit, I do not remember much from the times when I was a child," He replies sincerely. "But there is one in particular I could call my favourite memory, I remember it to this very day. It was that one time, when me, my siblings and parents visited Vivec City for the first time. I could be about 10 back then..." He stops for a second, thinking about how old he could be at that time. "Yes, I must have been 10, but I digress. So our family was visiting Vivec City and it was very amazing to me as a child. The way the city was built, how it looked. I remember Amiaris being only interested in seeing the local arena there and Anedran wanted to take a look into the Hall of Wisdom for the books they had there." He stops again, looking to the ceiling for few seconds, most probably getting lost in his thoughts. "But the best thing about it all? That was when our whole family got to that temple building of some sort, and that's where I saw him for the first time. Vivec himself, floating in the middle of stairs, looking like some icon he was. He saw us, and I could see his smile from such distance, I didn't knew at the time that our family had any connection to him, but that's where I got to know." His eyes started to look a bit glassy as he remembers. "We were slowly getting closer and closer to him, I was so nervous back then and it was getting worse by each step. We eventually got to see him up close, I was shaking on a place. My parents kneeled for a second but me and my siblings remained standing. I think my siblings were quite nervous as well, because who gets to meet someone like Vivec in person, right? I remember how his eyes got caught with mine, he could see how nervous I was and he smiled at me. For this once, he actually got on his feet and knelt just to give us three a kiss on forehead with words 'You three are meant to do great things', then he crossed legs and started floating again." Trildyn closes his eyes momentarily as the memory kicked in, then he opened them again. "I could say that my nervousness went all away. I still can feel the kiss on the forehead to this very moment. Sadly, the rest of the memory is a blur, but it remains my favourite for some reason. It eventually made me realise that our family was always a bit special in a way." He then clears his throat. "Either way, forgive me for talking too much about this one. It's just the nostalgia about those time when I was still in living back in Morrowind, I presume." Who do you look up to? He looks into the distance, deep in thoughts while he inhales through his nose. "Who do I look up to? Hm... Well, this will sound like a cliché, but I was always looking up to my parents as important figures, just like every child." A small smile appears on his lips. "My mother was most probably the most kind and patient person I have ever known. She teached us all to be generous and good towards people. And my father? While he was a bit strict, he teached me and my siblings a lot about life and fighting. It only deepened once we got to know about all his deeds in the West. He was a hero for us, and that is how it will stay to this day." Valnin then sighed. "I just hope my parents are okay, same goes to my siblings. Been a while since I saw them all.... I wonder if my mother is still making those sweetrolls she used to bake a lot." Describe your ideal partner. Trildyn visibly freezes for a second. "My ideal partner...?" He asks back with uncertainty in his voice. "That's... A good question." He then proceeds to think a bit about his response for a bit. It takes him a while, but he eventually comes up with an answer. "Well... I cannot give you straight answer, as I do not know it myself," He admits. "But I can give you this much; I think that ideal partner can be basically anyone to you as long as you love them the way they are and they love you in the same way. Sure, you can make up some traits your ideal partner will have, but what are the odds for them to be present? You see, you cannot be very picky about love. As long as it works and the love is in place, then you have ideal partner, I suppose." He shrugs a bit. "Apologies if it is not exactly what did you want to hear, but this is all I got, I'm afraid." "Nevertheless, I thank you for the questions, my friend. It has been an honour answering them." He gives you a sincere smile. "Please, do not hesitate to ask more if you feel like it." But seriously, thank you for asking about Trildyn on his behalf as well. It means really a lot, because I love my fancy blueberry boy. It took me a while to think about it, but I hope the answers were satisfying enough. Much love, my dear friend. 💙

[sweeethinny]

The Duke - Chapter 8

I feel that I need to apologize for the delay ahahahahahah some things - depression - have happened in my life in the last few months, along with the horrible results of my exams that made me fall into a limbo of feeling like a failure - it's no use telling me that I'm not a grade, I know that, but it still hurts And all of that was a block for me to be able to write anything I needed to think too much, and in the few days that depression left me alone, anxiety came to do her job and I couldn't control myself enough Anyway, something happened on Saturday and I wrote the last 5k of words that were missing and here's the chapter

thank you the people of discord who did not let me give up and asked for this chapter, I hope you all like it, it is by far one of the most sentimental chapters I have ever written in this story :)

TW: description of injuries that may be a little disgusting or too much for some people, be careful if you are sensitive to this

read bellow the cut or on AO3, SIYE (soon), or FF.NET

| J. P |

James still remembered the lullaby whispered against his son's sweaty, childlike curls as he cradled the boy in his arms, feeling like the happiest man in the world, with a life in his arms.

He still remembered how beautiful Lily looked, lying on their bed, sleeping soundly after breastfeeding Harry, her white nightdress wrinkled and her messy red hair against the pillow, resonating just like Harry did, hugging his father.

He still remembered putting him to sleep, kissing his forehead where a birth scar made him unique, making James think of how magical it was to have that life there, so close to him.

It was Harry's first day trying to sleep in a room separate from his parents.

James still remembered Lily's scream, how he couldn't move when looking at the empty crib, the broken window, how he wanted to vomit when the curse breaker said there were Dark Arts there.

James still remembered running through the streets of Godric's Hollow, wearing only a red robe, as he rummaged through the garbage, entered the alleys, and looked desperately for his son.

James still remembered shouting at the healers when they brought a dead child, the same size and appearance as Harry, hit by an Avada Kedavra, 'It's not Harry!'

He still remembered the photos, the stories, the chase over them, how Lily got sick with each passing hour, and how he needed to take charge of everything, even if all he wanted to do was cry and scream.

How did someone catch a child? A newborn?!

When Lily asked him to put an end to it, when she asked him to just find a way to get all those people out of the castle door, stop the reports and let them cry in peace, he said. He went on the balcony of the main hall, the one on the third floor and facing the main street in the village.

James, feeling sick to see all those people, feeling that he had been overcome by pressure from the press, from the population, from the King, raised the black flag and left, not waiting to see the reaction of the people when he confirmed that Harry was dead.

But he knew he wasn't, he knew Lily knew it too, they were just tired of looking like two nuts, when they still had to deal with the pain of having a kidnapped child.

James still remembers the taste of blood, when he fought with Death Eaters, when during one of the missions, he left for Yeovil and was caught. He still remembered the torture, the blood splattering on his face as they beheaded a child identical to Harry. He knew it was the Imperius Curse, he knew it was all a lie, but it still hurt and haunted him more than all the deaths he had seen in person.

He thought he was going to go crazy.

James remembered all of that, he still remembered when Dumbledore told him about the whole prophecy, about the expiration date that their son had.

'You are crazy!' James screamed, breaking everything he saw ahead, feeling so angry that he thought he might explode. 'My son is not dead.' He assured him, snarling at Dumbledore, the fucking King, teeth clenched and faces close together, as if James dared him to deny it.

There were so many things that James remembered; from when Lily talked about hosting the Dueling Party because a fortune teller had told her that Harry was closer than they thought; from when he spoke to Arthur and heard the man say that his daughter was going to get married, the same girl who was supposed to marry Harry, the same girl that Dumbledore said she had a power that could be even harmful to her.

James remembered all of that.

But he didn't remember where he met that man.

'Henry Figg..' He murmured, watching the Auror follow Miss. Weasley through the garden, discreetly and very attentively, while the girl spoke non-stop, which James thought it should be with the man.

'It's a pretty common name,' Lily replied, smiling at the elf who poured tea into her cup. The two were sitting on the balcony of their room, watching from a distance all the guests to settle down and have time to discover the garden, the rooms, before the opening dinner. 'Figg is a Muggle surname.'

'But he is not a squib.' James scorned, and as if to prove it, the Auror levitated a gnome who tried to pull the hem of Miss. Weasley, who didn't even seem to notice, still talking and interacting with the statues.

'No, but he may be a Muggleborn.' Lily shrugged, legs crossed, and a magazine propped there, even though he knew she wasn't reading, but was also following the guests with her eyes. She was less brazen than James, wearing a hat that cast enough shadow over her eyes so that no one would notice that she was staring at them. He had already been caught in the act by a Marquise and a Count, both of whom seemed very close for someone who has met a few minutes before.

'Do you think they would have sent him? Aurors tend to be prejudiced, you know. ' James said, sipping his own tea.

'Oh, of course I know.' Lily laughed humorlessly, flipping through the magazine when a Lady watched them. It was as if they were two jesters on top of the ring. 'That girl, doesn't she seem very interested in Mr. Longbottom?'

'Who? The one wearing a yellow dress? For sure... Do you think they have an affair?'

'Of course not, Frank is a good man-'

'-I'm talking about Mr Figg and Miss. Weasley.' James interrupted, noticing when she sat at the water fountain, Henry standing.

'Why do you think that? She's a decent girl.' Lily seemed convinced enough to drop the magazine and actually look at the girl, watching them both in silence, at the same time that Henry seemed to smile and so did Ginny.

It was as if they were talking telepathically.

'I don't know, I just thought he was too careful with her, as if at any time he could jump in front of an Avada Kedavra to save her.' James said, shrugging.

'He's being paid well to do just that.' Lily reminded him, dropping the teacup next to his, then intertwining her fingers with James'. 'We need to get down.'

'Unfortunately.' James winced. 'I feel that nothing we talk about is taken seriously, it is as if we are forced to wear black for the rest of our lives.'

'It's only a week,' Lily whispered, making him stop looking at Henry and look at her, those green eyes that made him fall in love. 'I promise it will be worth it, you will see.'

'I always believe in you,' The two got up, walking together into their room, so clean it was as if no one slept there. James had spent so many years just with Lily at home, that he didn't even remember having such an immaculate environment and people around. It was a little scary. 'But this time I admit that I'm a little reluctant.'

'You are stubborn by nature,' she said, leaving the room as she straightened the pink scarf around her neck. 'I remember you complained about my desire to have this party.'

'But I still don't understand the reasons.' James whispered, now that they were in the corridors, even though it was the fourth floor on the west side and there was no room being occupied over there.

The walls have ears. He remembered his father always saying.

'What if she is wrong?'

'What if she isn't?' Lily looked at him, eyes steady on him. 'What if our son is here?' She spoke hopefully, almost in an inaudible whisper, it was horrible when other people got into their hopes for Harry.

'I haven't seen him anywhere.' James argued, a little irritated, following his wife into the room where there was a crowd of people.

'And how would we know if it's him? We haven't seen him for more than 20 years.' Lily shrugged, stopping them before finally entering through the big white double door, wide open and making them listen to the side conversations. 'We have an ace up our sleeve, and if it doesn't work...' She seemed unable to continue the sentence, but James thought nonetheless, we will accept that he is dead.

'Oh, duchess!' A short, plump lady howled from across the room, near the door to the garden, the egg yellow color in no way favoring the pale skin. 'We were waiting for you to have tea.' James couldn't help thinking about all the teas that Lily hadn't been invited to until that last month, having to force himself to smile at that woman who was staring at them curiously.

'Thank you, Mrs Brown, but I think it will be more pertinent to start the party, it will be quite a week, and we will have so much to do!' Lily smiled happier than usual, also seeming to force herself on it.

They continued to socialize and chat with everyone there, hoping to give the right time they had planned to serve the main banquet, smiling and laughing at the bad jokes.

'I have never seen people more false than these.' Sirius whispered, reaching for James for the first time, serving him with firewhiskey.

'Thank you very much,' he thanked, the drink burning the inside of his throat. 'I don't remember receiving so many invitations to drink since I was 18 and the four of us were single.'

'Half of these people already speak ill of us, the other half will after tonight.' Sirius barked, a blonde woman looked at them as if she was afraid. 'Not unlike before, but now they feel they need to lie and pretend it isn't true.'

'Don't say that next to Lily, she's trying hard.' James scolded, watching when Miss. Weasley came into the room, her cheeks flushed with the sun and her hair a little disheveled, nothing much, she looked a little sweaty, as if she had run around the garden like a child. Mr. Figg was right behind her, camouflaging himself in the sea of ​​people, barely seeming to be seen by others as he walked over to an empty window.

The Auror kept watching everyone in the room, stopping for a few seconds to observe some people in specials, but then rolling his eyes around the room again, always ending at Miss. Weasley sitting on the couch, talking to her brother.

When he once again scanned the room, he looked at James. The boy suddenly looked scared, as if he had been caught - and he was, in a way - but soon he rearranged his posture and nodded to James, as if asking for forgiveness for not making himself so invisible.

James knew him from somewhere, he knew it, he just didn't remember it.

He didn't go to the Ministry much to end up colliding with an auror, and he hadn't visited the Weasleys' house in a long time to have seen him there. The few times he will travel and speak to Arthur, he was careful to only have them at home.

Where did that boy come from, then?

James was about a second away from going to him and bombarding the man with questions, but he was stopped when Lily took him by the arm and drew everyone's attention so she could start the Duel Party.

As if to prove that he was a good Auror, Mr. Figg was not in James' view for the rest of the day. Which showed that he was efficient at work, but that did not make James forget the restlessness that rumbled in his chest, his mind working hard to remember.

James wouldn't rest until he remembered.

| G. W |

Ginny never thought that being alone would be so much fun.

Okay, maybe she wasn't alone, because Henry was still watching her like a shadow, and there were still all eyes on her like they were just waiting for her to explode and destroy everything around her.

But still, Ginny felt a strange freedom as she walked through the garden at night, shortly after dinner, thanking everyone for not paying too much attention to social rules and that Ginny was a single woman. Maybe it was because no one else really had any hopes that she would end up getting married so she didn't need a lady company beside her.

And Henry was always there, it was hard to ignore that. At least for her.

'Do you think we can manage to reach the stream that Mrs Potter told us about? She said it looks beautiful at night.’ Ginny asked, but Henry - who was particularly awkward since they got there - said nothing, just nodded.

This upset the woman.

Not having other people talking to her, or not having men praising her as they did tirelessly with the Patil sisters, or Miss. Brown, it was something Ginny no longer cared about - she didn't care so much, because there were still days when she was sad and cried with that loneliness. But not having Henry talking to her, it looked like a much sharper knife that cut through it in a much deeper way.

'Do you think they will let me take part in the Duel tomorrow?' She looked over her shoulder again, hands folded in front of her as she walked down the stone road, surrounded by flowers, bushes, fairy lights and sculptures that waved once or twice other.

'I don't think so, Miss, I'm sorry.' Henry kept his hands back, three steps away from her, still not looking directly into her eyes.

Ginny could still see him, even though the fairies didn't seem to make much of a point of illuminating him, as they did when following her, however, she still realized that Henry's green eyes were always a spot above her head, as if suddenly he was afraid that if he looked at her something bad would happen.

Henry's coldness hurt more than the others, Ginny didn't know why. Maybe she was used to being alone, but she could always run back to Henry and be heard.Maybe she was just used to his friendship.

'A pity, then.' She started walking again, blinking away the tears that had gathered in the corners of her eyes. How silly to cry about that!

One of the fairies that flew around her, landed on her shoulder, didn't bite her or anything, just sat there, as if comforting her. Ginny continued on the stone path, completely silent.

She never imagined visiting such an elegant house, but even so, Ginny felt that if the walls spoke they would contradict themselves with the various colors that painted them and the cheerful style that perpetuated in each room, and would make you cry.

It was easy to see how dejected Mrs. Potter always looked, looking for someone in the crowd and never seeming to find. Her green eyes had a gray shade that Ginny thought was sadness, and her cheeks were so pale that it was as if her skin hadn't been exposed to the sun for weeks, if not months. She also noticed how thinner Lily was than the photos that appeared in the history books or in the newspapers that she stole from her father; Lily was taller than she, with long arms and legs, but even smaller than Mr. Potter. The fabric of her dress was very elegant, but it looked too loose even with all the ribbons tied around her back.

Ginny wondered if Lily was sick, if the sadness had consumed her, or if she had always been that way.

She did not fail to notice when the Duchess smiled at her over dinner, everyone was talking to everyone and Ginny was silent - except when her mother or Ron asked her something - and Lily was sitting next to the husband, across the table and to the right, but the woman maintained eye contact with Ginny as if she knew what she felt, smiling at what seemed for the first time that day to be a real smile.

Lily should have known very well what it was like to be lonely and have to get used to it. Not that Ginny understood the pain of losing a child, she hoped she would never know, but she could still imagine.

Before leaving for the gardens, Lily asked her if she would like to have tea with her and the other women. Nobody had ever invited Ginny before, she was nervous with the idea of ​​sitting in a room with all those women who didn't seem to like her very much, so she denied and thanked her, saying that she preferred to know a little more about the garden.

'It's a good choice,' the Duchess said, smiling and with her hand on Ginny's shoulder, not looking away even for a second. 'The stream is wonderful at night, with the stars and the moon illuminating... Very romantic.' Lily blinked, then straightened her back and turned to the other women who were talking near the bookcase, calling them to join her in a tea.

Ginny did not expect - at least, she would like to think she did not expect - the romantic mood that Lily referred to to influence Henry's attitude towards her, but she continued to allow herself into the silence of her mind to imagine if the Moon at the top of the sky and the stars reflecting in the water, they would make Henry attracted to the corset she had squeezed in, and the red lipstick that the elf stained her fingers to paint on Ginny's lips.

Perhaps because of the perfume Bill had given her last Christmas, which smelled of flowers and something French that reminded her a little of Fleur, but not so sweet.

However, when they finally arrived at the stream, where the idea of ​​a great place for dating really passed, Henry continued to stand three steps away from her, standing by a tree, watching as Ginny stretched the rug she had taken for both of them and sat facing the water.

Something inside broke when reality invaded expectation, her hand smoothing the fabric of the dress as if it were the most interesting thing. The fairy was still sitting on her shoulder, her wings were not flapping and the light was getting a little weaker, as if she were feeling Ginny's pain and trying to make Henry realize her intention of going to that part.

'Don't you think it's a very hot night for tea?' Ginny asked, trying one last time.

'It depends on the tea,' Henry replied, looking thoughtful. 'Perhaps a tea with fresh herbs will become a little refreshing, or with orange peel.'

'Who would have tea with orange peel?' Ginny looked over her shoulder, just for a few seconds, and Henry's eyes locked with hers.

'I know some Aurors who drink them during missions, when they need something that will calm them down and remind them of home, but that will keep them awake,' he said calmly, hands still behind his body, eyes looking away to watch the sky and then the various trees that were around them.

'Did you notice how that guy... Mr. Rosier, looked a little uncomfortable when dinner started?' Ginny remembered what she wanted to say as soon as she left the table, but she ended up forgetting, and also needing to change the subject and make him look at her again, feeling a little pathetic about almost begging for attention.

Henry looked at her. 'No, I didn't notice. Why do you think that? He seemed very excited when talking to Mr. Black.’

'Maybe it was nervousness, there were two pretty girls sitting next to him, and they seemed to want to get his attention. But I realized, just that, he looked a little out of place.' She shrugged, looking back at the water when Henry looked away again.

Ginny cursed herself for thinking that Henry might want something with her, she should already know that things were not as easy for her as for other women.

'Not that it is very difficult to feel out of place here,' she said, watching her reflection in the water.

'Did you find it?'

'Well, we are at a Duke's house, I don't think I will be able to not feel out of place… Mr. Potter has already met the King.' Ginny whispered the last part, as if it were a secret between them that she wanted to keep, remembering how furious her father looked when he learned that the man had come to the King to ask questions that, of course, no one wanted to tell her about.

'I don't know, there is something about them that makes me feel almost familiar.' Henry approached, she could say, because of the noise of the branches breaking and the leaves crushing under the boot he wore. But Ginny continued to look at the water.

Something moved deep inside, something she couldn't see what it was.

‘Familiar? Yes, they are very polite and seem to want to get close to people and make them feel at home.’ Ginny put her hand in the water, curious as a child looking for Christmas presents around the house.

'Didn't you feel like you already knew the two of them for a long time?' Henry asked, standing a few steps behind her, she saw him in the reflection of the water, now cloudy because she was trying to catch whatever moved below.

It could just be a fish, of course, but Ginny was skeptical of that. She heard Mr. Potter talking about how the only lake that had fish was one much further away, close to the quarries.

‘No, but it’s also like they’re not complete strangers.’

‘I don’t know, the last time I felt like this, was when…’ But Ginny didn’t pay attention, she finally got to whatever it was, it was icy and slippery like moss, but it had scales that scraped her skin. Something small and thin clung to her wrist and she screamed at the sensation, agonized by the sensation of small hands sinking into her skin.

Ginny pulled her arm up as fast as she could, screaming even more when she saw an animal stuck in her arm, big eyes and pale skin, the head bigger than the rest of the body, sinking the small nails further into her arm, and what should have been the animal's hair, burned like fire against her skin when it touched her. The mermaid's tail bounced off Ginny's arm, causing pain that seemed unreal when compared to the animal's size.

'Run.' The mermaid said, neither seeming to blink or paying attention to the fact that she was out of the water. ‘Now.’ Before she could say anything, a spell made the animal drop from Ginny's arm now red and looking irritated, falling into the water like a piece of stone.

'Come on.' Henry grabbed her, forcing her to get up.

Ginny was paralyzed, fear freezing her veins and making her barely able to breathe properly, still seeming to feel the slimy, cold sensation of the animal against her, huge dark eyes locked on hers, how the voice sounded thin and made her feel dizzy as if she had been attacked by a spell.

She didn't even realize that it was Henry who was pulling her all the way until she tripped over a rock, seeming to be enough for her to wake up from the panic trance she was in. 'What was that?'

'A mermaid.' Henry continued to hold her arm, wand drawn and Ginny's body close to him, as if he were ready to hide her behind him and take down anyone who appeared there.

'You can't think she was serious... can you?' She asked a little hopefully, feeling her arm burn and sting as if it had been cut and now it had been dipped in alcohol.

'Do you want to stay there to see if it's true or not?' Henry looked at her, his green eyes dark with what seemed to be concern, his teeth clenched. 'These animals do not lie, let alone speak to humans on a regular basis. That was not right. ’

‘Why did my arm look like this?’ The two didn’t follow the path they came from, but Henry took them for what seemed to be where the elfs walked, behind the house, in a part that had almost no fairies lighting up or statues. It looked almost abandoned when they got closer.

'It can be many things, I will have to look closely.' He knelt on the floor and opened a secret passage as if he had been doing that for years, lighting up the stairs for Ginny. 'Come down. We don’t want anyone to see your arm like that. ’

'Where are we?' She did as he was told, even though her right arm seemed to hurt to the bone, taking care not to fall off balance and fall backwards in what appeared to be an underground path. It was cold and dark, with few candles lighting up the front, and it smelled of mold.

'Under the kitchen.' Henry closed the passage, finally seeming to calm down from the latest events, pulling Ginny's arm close, lighting it with his wand. 'It hurts?'

'A lot.' She felt dinner coming back when he touched the wound, the pain almost leaving her on her knees.

'It is probably a poisonous mermaid, we will have to clean this up and... Cut it out.' Ginny warned herself then, her eyes bulging towards Henry, who even in that gloom seemed to apologize for having to hurt her. ‘It’s a small cut, just to extract the poison they contain and that’s probably why you’re feeling so much pain.’

'Great, it's the first day we're here and a mermaid attacks me,' she said, her head thrown back and a snort coming out of her lips. 'My mom will be ...' Henry interrupts her, his hand on her mouth in a silent request for her to be quiet once in her life, while they can hear footsteps above them, footsteps that don't seem to come from the kitchen, but from the garden.

Ginny hears when the person runs and stops over where they entered, Henry is quick to camouflage them with a spell and pull them close to one of the walls, as if he just waits for the person to open the door and go look for them there

But the person seemed to give up, saying something to someone that they cannot identify who it is or what is said, but they both seem quite irritated. Ginny almost loses her eyes when she realizes that the second person didn't seem to have come from anywhere, and that he was probably already around, just waiting for them. Again, fear freezes her, but this time it is a little different, she looks at Henry, who is also looking at her in fright, and it is almost as if they are communicating by mind again, because Ginny knows what he's thinking when the drags into the tunnel, at a much faster pace and without lowering the wand once.

The mermaid was right, and they weren't as safe as they thought. Someone there was planning, at best, to kill Ginny that night.

Ginny didn't even wait for Henry to pull her to run any further when they thought they heard the noise of the passage being opened, she didn't even remember the pain, or she cared about the noise of rats and other animals that got scared when they passed, moving on, not quite sure where the tunnel ended.

It was common for older houses to have these tunnels, especially if the family was wealthy, her father had said that the tunnels served as an escape route for when things got bad with the advance of the First Wizarding War, and then they became useful for wealthy families to hide their wealth or, families allied with Voldemort, to keep their prisoners.

Fortunately, the Potter didn't seem to want to keep any prisoners there, all through the tunnel there were only other paths that they would probably lead to either in the main rooms or in the office, as they had at home. Ginny and Henry passed a wine cellar too, where two elves were, but luckily, none of them heard them, or if they did, they pretended not to.

Henry helped Ginny open the wooden door that, by his calculations, would come out on the floor where Ginny was, near the winter Garden that served as the divider of the west and east wing. There was no one around, thanks to Merlin, all the doors were closed and few were the rooms that had the light on. She wondered if people had already started sneaking out to date, or did they wait at least one day.

Ginny heard many stories of couples who were married eight months after a Duel Party, and the woman had a child who was born ‘’early.’’

'My mom must have realized that I didn't come back.' She whispered, pulling Henry into her room, the two of them walking on tiptoe. They were still invisible to anyone, but she doubted that they could put a silencing spell on them without anyone noticing, even the pictures could scream for it. She herself had seen the great-grandfather's picture yell at George when he did it once.

'If she talks to me, I will say that I brought you safely but you wanted to go to sleep early.' He calmed her, looking embarrassed when Ginny put him into the room. ‘Miss, I don’t know if it’s very-’

'Henry, no one cares about my honor anymore, and my arm is turning purple.' She showed it, almost vomiting when she realized how swollen and purple the arm was getting, as if blood was not flowing from the elbow down. 'Get it over with,' Ginny pleaded, feeling the pain again now that the adrenaline had gone, sitting on the bed and turning her face to the window.

'This is going to hurt,' Henry predicted, after silencing the room and taking her hand gently, stretching her arm and causing Ginny an absurd pain, which felt as if the bones wanted to rip her skin.

‘Ah!’ She screamed, biting her lip hard as soon as Henry tied something separating the injured part from the other.

'I need to ensure that the poison does not rise further,' he explained.

'Just get it over with.'

'Miss, I'm going to need you to stay here...' Ginny went to the desk, stretching her arm over the wood, thinking how she hadn't wanted Henry to touch her for the first time under those circumstances. She wanted him to take her hand, to caress her skin, but not when her arm looked like it would explode in pus. 'I'll start.'

'OK. I trust you.' Ginny took a deep breath.

'Thank you, Miss.' Henry said, before finally touching his wand on her arm and murmuring words that Ginny didn't understand, not when the pain left her deaf and blind, making her stomp like a madwoman, struggling when the heat took part of her right arm, going up her shoulders, throat, and making her look like she was going to explode in seconds.

It burned like pure fire, and she made the mistake of looking at the outstretched arm and seeing the open skin and spilling yellowish green goo mixed with blood, Henry squeezed her flesh as if it were nothing, and Ginny thought she would die because of a damn mermaid.

The scream burned her throat and echoed throughout the room, she hoped Henry had protected them well, because she could have woken up the entire mansion now. The taste of blood and iron filled her mouth, probably her lip had hurt when she clenched her teeth to stop the scream, but it was impossible, it hurt like it never hurt, it was almost torture.

Fingers on her right hand didn't move, or if they did, Ginny couldn't feel it. This time she didn't look at Henry when he swore, touching his wand again to her feverish skin and saying more charms, also seeming to mumble an apology.

Ginny continued to scream and struggle for what seemed like eternity, until everything went cloudy and she heard Henry say it was over, casting healing spells that stopped the heat from rising in her arm, just as the pain subsided, but Ginny still felt she was shaking and would probably fall if she tried to get up or move her arm now. Henry untied the tape and placed his hands on her skin as if to calm whatever was going on there, she was unable to observe.

'It's over, it's over,' he murmured, conjuring ice and placing it under her skin. 'There was more poison than I imagined, but I promise that there is nothing more, I took everything away... Tomorrow you will be better again, I promise.'

'Thank you, Henry,' Ginny said weakly, not even feeling the tears that were streaming down her face, the sobs being the only thing she heard now.

She looked at the arm again, this time closed, returning to the original color, a little less swollen, and with only small reddish parts, where she believed Henry had made the cut. Henry continued to run the ice over her injured skin, his other hand holding hers as if he said he was there, and everything was fine.

'I'm going to need help getting to bed.' She had also been thinking about one day having his help to go to bed - and it wasn't for sleeping - but today she really needed help, and Ginny doubted that a house elf would help her more than Henry was doing. ‘Sorry about that, but I don’t think I can take my dress off by myself.’

| H. F |

Henry gasped.

It seemed more frightening to have to help Ginny get into her pajamas, than to tear off what looked like a kilo of Mermaid venom, watching her skin open spewing goo, blood, and listening to her scream.

He almost fell off his chair when she asked him to.

But he was her security guard, the guy who should cherish her life, and Ginny had already suffered too much in one night, he wouldn’t make her sleep in those tight clothes just because he felt he could get hard just by looking at her back.

'Of course, Miss.' Henry stood up. He had already washed many aurors, people would be shocked at how weepy men are when they get hurt, and how they beg for help when they see their own blood dripping on the floor, even if it is for a small injury.

Joe once nearly passed out when he realized that his shoulder was dislocated and his arm looked almost like gelatin. Henry had to help him shower that night.

But Joe and everyone else were guys that Henry wasn't attracted to, they stank of blood, sweat and dirt, Ginny didn't. The woman's arm had almost been eaten alive by the mermaid's poison, and she still smelled of flowers and looked like the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. It would never be the same.

Henry went to the wooden barrel that was in the corner of the room, separated by a wooden divider, taking the towel placed there and stretching the rug in front so that Ginny would step on when he left - he didn't want to think too much at that moment - and moved the wand to fill the barrel with hot water. He spilled some salts and soap, before making sure it was warm and good for her to get in. Henry didn't know if she would prefer to use the stairs or not, but he left it there anyway. If she wanted, just push it with her foot and use it.

'You don't have to look that worried,' Ginny said, looking even weaker, but at least she wasn't crying anymore. 'I already said, nobody cares about my honor, besides, nobody will ever know.' She shrugged. ‘It’s not like it means anything, you’re just helping me.’

His chest hurt a little, the idea of ​​another man helping her into the bath - but with ulterior motives - making him a little more discouraged. Just as he had been since they arrived, failing to forget that she was likely to return to her house, married.

Yes, it meant nothing. For her. Henry was just a personal security guard, not a man she would like to show off in the bath.

The wet skin, red from the heat, the foam hitting the breasts...Henry denied, trying to clear his mind of those thoughts.

'Sure, Miss.' Was all he said, walking over to her and helping her to her feet, holding her for a few more seconds with the excuse that she looked like she might fall at any moment.

The two went as far as the bath awaited her, Henry remained behind her when Ginny stopped in front of the barrel, hands shaking like a teenager when he undid the first button on her dress. Her skin was much more fragrant there, and it looked much softer and paler, he could even see some freckles disappearing under the back of her neck. Henry salivated with the urge to kiss that part.

He undid another button. Two are gone, only ten more to go, he thought.

Ginny said nothing, a firm hand on the wooden partition, waiting patiently as Henry discovered how much more beautiful she was under the dress. There were other clothes underneath, of course, but Henry could feel the warmth of Ginny's skin much more eagerly now.

When the top of the dress fell to her waist, arms free from the sleeves, Henry found himself with the job of untying the corset. The piece made Ginny look so delicate and fragile that he thought she could break it when he undid a knot and loosened the piece. He had never taken off any woman's corset. In fact, he had never taken off any woman's clothes, and it seemed such an intimate moment that he thought sex was too overrated compared to undoing every button, tie and knot that women used.

As soon as the corset fell, Ginny seemed to be taking a deep breath, and Henry almost laughed softly at what seemed to be the best time of her day. And then, all he needed was the chemise so that he could see the top of her naked.

But Henry thought it would be more polite to wait, so he began to undo the lace on the dress, and loosen the fabric so that it fell completely to the floor, and again, he heard Ginny sigh for what seemed like relief.

Henry looked at her delicate calves, and found himself a fool for wanting to run his hands and mouth over that region, slowly climbing up every little part of her beautiful legs. Of course, he had never seen her legs, only when she wore pants to fly, but Henry liked to imagine that they were as beautiful as everything else.

'Excuse me, Miss.' He asked, politely before pulling the white petticoat down, his chest swelling and throbbing madly as he watched the fabric tease the floor and was aware of how long her legs were even though she was short , and how beautiful her ass was. Henry felt his own cheeks warm, noting the few freckles lost on the back of her thighs, and a few on her ass.

The monster roared in Henry's chest at the thought of another man having knowledge of these freckles. It seemed so intimate now that he saw her that way, and Henry thanked him for never giving in when co-workers asked him to go to Fantasy House, where he would probably see various types of naked bodies. He liked to be surprised at how soft a woman's skin - Ginny’s - looked beneath all those layers, and how much more beautiful it was than his colleagues' descriptions.

He never had much time to court anyone, and even when he did, there weren't many women who wanted him. They generally preferred the richest, tallest, and strongest, or those who at least knew how to speak to them without stuttering, Henry thought. He didn't expect the special woman either, he just always seemed very… empty. None drew him enough attention that he wanted to see her naked, of course some were beautiful and made him feel hot, but they almost never wanted to chat with him, so there was no opportunity either.

'Excuse me,' Henry asked again, now reaching for the hem of the thin white chemise that Ginny wore, hoping she would nod so he could properly see her naked, or at least, her back.

'Okay.' Ginny nodded, her voice a little hoarse, raising her arms up - the right not so much, and he believed it was still hurting.

Henry almost ran out of breath and fell back when the fabric went up and showed him the wealth of freckles on her back, her pale, delicate skin looked even softer than her legs, her shoulders smeared with a little sun, and shoulder blades filled with freckles of all sizes and shades. Henry noticed that there were orange, others more brown, some a little reddish and few that were almost black. He wanted so much to run his hand over her skin.

Her scent invaded Henry's mind in a way that he thought would go crazy, and he probably would, never being able to see another naked woman and not compare her to Ginny and her perfection.

Again he wondered why she had never been asked to marry. He almost fell to his knees right there.

'So, Miss.' He managed to say, his voice hoarse than usual. 'Do you want help getting into the bath?'

'I can do it, Henry, thank you very much.' Ginny didn't turn to see him, and Henry thought it would be better, maybe if he saw a tiny part of her breast, he would be cursed for the rest of his life for not being able to touch her.

'I'll be waiting for you, there's a towel over there, and if the water is not as you like, you can call me.' Henry turned on his back, thinking that seeing her walking naked was also not the best way to try to survive the burning desire in the chest.

But listening seemed even worse, because his imagination didn't stop, the noise of the water and her moan of satisfaction made him have to thank the witch fashion and the fact that his robes protected him from being discovered.

The next few minutes would be slow and painful torture, he knew it, smelling the sweet soap, listening to the water fall to the floor whenever Ginny moved in the bathtub, her little murmurs of satisfaction, filling Henry's imagination with the most perverted images.

He felt ashamed to think that this woman would subject herself to things as dirty as the ones he was thinking about in his fantasies.

'I'm done.' Ginny woke him up from what appeared to be the fifth fantasy that Henry created in his mind. The water fell again, and worse than before, now he imagined her body smooth and warm, reddish and sensitive, smelling like the fragrance that would lead him to death.

Henry waited for her to call on him to help her go to the dresser where all her clothes were, not wanting to pay much attention to the strands of hair that stuck to the back of her neck.

'The bath really helped me,' Ginny said, walking back into the partition. 'I can manage to put on my pajamas, it's button-down, I won't have to make so much effort.' She smiled at him, flushed like a pepper, disappearing behind the wood and making him wait again. 'Do you really think that whoever it was was after me?' She asked, still dressing.

'I think.' Henry was blunt. 'But I did not understand why the other person, who clearly saw where we entered, said nothing. We don’t hear footsteps, which means he was there.’

'Should we tell someone?' Ginny appeared, wearing a light pink nightdress with dark pink buttons, delicate flowers embroidered on the hem. She accepted Henry's help to walk to the bed, she was not so pale anymore, and her arm looked much better, but he still realized that she was holding firmly on the furniture to stand.

'Let me take care of that, Miss, it's my job,' Henry said, covering her up as if Ginny were a helpless child who needed help. He sat next to her on the bed, enjoying that moment that would probably be unique, forgetting that she had been tagged with a boy who was probably dead, or if not, very far from her, and that Arthur had already found a replacement for the position of husband.

And it wasn't Henry.

He sighed, feeling strangely at peace when she shook his hand. 'Thank you for taking care of me.'

'I would never do the opposite.' He smiled, unable to take his eyes off her. 'How's the arm?'

'Sore, but I can feel my hand again.' To prove it, Ginny wiggled her fingers for him to see, laughing softly at that.

'Tomorrow will be better, I put good healing charms on you. It won't even be scarred.' He knew that women could care about that, he even cared about the one he carried on his forehead, always keeping it hidden behind his hair.

Ginny didn't say anything for a moment, just stared at him, luscious brown eyes that reminded Henry of a home feeling, flushed cheeks from hot water or a combination of that and the sun, and adorable freckles that he would like to spend hours counting each one, foolishly trying to memorize them for when he was forced to leave, not wanting, and not thinking he would be able, to ever forget her.

Henry thought how much easier life would be if he could just woo Ginny the right way, that seeing her naked would mean much more than just a helping hand, and that he probably wouldn't see just her back.

He thought about the life he would have had if he had been lucky enough to be born in a mansion like that. Not that he didn't love her mother, far from it, he was very grateful for everything she did. But things could be simpler if he were the son of the Duke and Duchess and had the opportunity to marry Ginny.

But life was not that easy. And, not for the first time, Henry cursed Harry Potter for disappearing and putting him in such a difficult position, of having Ginny so close and yet so far.

'Good night, Miss,' Henry murmured, and just because he felt brave, he leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. 'Sleep well.'

[sincerelyreidburke]

A fic for day 2!

The 25 days of Kiersey continue! This is Thanksgiving-focused, but I wanted to get this one early in the countdown before Thanksgiving was too distant of an event. I’m counting this as a winter holiday.

For context, if you want or need it, here is a ficlet that will function as a faraway prequel to the events of the following fic.

In the summer between his sophomore and junior year, Quinn tours with a fictional production of a real Broadway show, Deaf West's Spring Awakening. I recently watched the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade and decided that Quinn Cooper needed to be in on that action. Here's what happened as a result.

Heaven forgive me, for it is LONG under that cut! I saw the opportunity for Quindo fluff in New York City, and I ran with it, my friends. Featuring Quinn’s tour friend Kyra (in person, finally!), some stereotypical NYC tourism shit, and, of course, the actual Thanksgiving festivities.

///

Playbill.com

November 1st

Summer Cast of Deaf West’s Spring Awakening To Perform At Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade

*

Tuesday

Kiersey, NH

 Technically, the official start of Quinn’s Thanksgiving break occurs at 1:15 on Tuesday, when his last class lets out. Walking across campus after he leaves the sciences building is, to be sure, a very freeing experience. But it’s not until he’s by the door at the house on Beech Street, with a packed bag over his shoulder and a train ticket in his pocket, that it truly feels like his break is beginning.

“I can’t believe you two are ditching out on Shaley Thanksgiving,” Ben tells him, shaking his head and mock-scowling, as he takes the keys to his Prius off a hook by the door. “After all I’ve done for you?”

Quinn smiles brightly, and offers Ben nothing but a shrug. “I’m sorry, Ben,” he hums, “but I’ll be thinking of you in spirit.”

“Wow, that’s so nice of you, Mini.” Ben puts a hand to his heart, with all the snark in the world still in his eyes. “It’s almost for a moment like you’re not ditching to go to the big city.”

Quinn hums contemplatively, then glances at the time on his phone. “Sebastián,” he calls, and hopes his voice travels up the stairs. “We’ve got to go! The train’s in twenty minutes!”

“Twenty-four,” corrects Remy, as he walks to the door to join them with his own bag in tow. “You’ve got time, Q.”

Quinn knows he does have time, but as they say in the theater, on time is ten minutes early. He smiles at Remy anyway, and sighs. “I suppose we do, don’t we?”

Remy shrugs. “The train station is, like, two seconds away.”

This is also true.

“You’ll have to forgive me, Ben,” he adds, while they’re waiting. “Goodness knows I’m grateful for your mother’s hospitality.”

“It’s okay.” Ben smirks. “On the bright side, this year you won’t have to deal with her being weird.”

Mrs. Shaley does say odd things, most of them thinly veiled discomfort about his existence as an openly gay man (Quinn, you are just so stylish! It must just be natural for you people), but Quinn is still grateful that she had him to her house last year all the same.

Remy, who is going home with Ben again this year for the brief break, looks to him now, and asks, “Will we see you on TV?”

Quinn smiles— he can’t help it— and dusts off his knit scarf where it’s wound around his neck. “I certainly hope you will,” he replies. “So long as the parade is on, I don’t see why you wouldn’t.”

“That’s awesome,” Remy says, with a smile of his own, and Ben adds, “I can’t wait to live-Tweet it and say I know you.”

He sighs into his hand. “Oh, Benjamin.” He’s about to call for Sebastián again— he did have the class that released the latest of all of them, so it makes sense he’s the last to be ready, but then again, he should have just packed last night— but before he can call him, the floor shakes with the unmistakable rhythm of him bounding down the stairs, and in another second, he’s joined them by the door.

“Sorry, baby.” With his backpack over his shoulder, Sebastián looks handsome enough that Quinn is willing to forget his previous punctuality stress. “I’m ready now.” He’s in his nice winter jacket, with the red scarf and matching hat, and he looks every bit prepared for the November streets of New York.

“Good,” Quinn says, simply, and fixes the way his scarf tucks into his jacket before he turns to nod at Ben. “We’re ready when you are, mister taxi service.”

“You’re an asshole,” Ben replies, “and let’s get outta here.”

The train station is only a three-minute drive from campus, and Ben and Remy drop them off there, with their own long drive to Providence awaiting them as they pull out of sight. Quinn feels as if he’s buzzing with adrenaline, with the excitement of the five days that lie ahead of them. Thanksgiving break may not be long, and in past years, it hasn’t been very eventful for him— freshman year, he stayed on campus, and last year at Ben’s house was nice but not particularly crazy— but this year is a whole new story.

This year, he gets a Thanksgiving break straight out of his wildest, most wonderful daydreams.

“Are you excited, cariño?” Sebastián asks him, as they’re waiting on the platform for the train, bundled up with their bags in the cold. Quinn feels like they’re at the start of a wonderful holiday movie.

“Of course I am.” He winds his arm up in his and remarks, “In fact, I can’t remember the last time I was quite this excited.”

Sebastián smiles. Under his knit cap, his curls are just a little windblown. Quinn has never seen a more handsome sight. “I’m excited for you,” he says, and kisses his forehead, and this is going to be the greatest school break ever.

*

Wednesday

New York, NY

 On their first full day in New York, Quinn has rehearsals. This makes sense, because the whole reason they’re in New York in the first place is so that Quinn can perform. Nando doesn’t even have enough words for how proud he is of him, and the performance hasn’t even happened yet.

Quinn is up bright and early Wednesday morning. He’s headed to the hotel convention center downstairs, where he’s meeting up with his castmates from over the summer for the first time since he left tour in August. Nando rolls over in bed— it’s still dark out— and smiles when he feels him a kiss to his cheek on his way out. He reaches out of the covers and feels around until he can grab Quinn’s hand in the dark.

He squeezes it, three times— their wordless way to say I love you. Quinn returns the three squeezes, kisses the back of his hand, and then turns to go, a silhouette in rehearsal clothes as he leaves.

The bed feels empty without him afterwards, but it’s still dark outside the windows of the room, so Nando falls asleep for another little while and dreams of 

When he wakes again, he has an interesting situation on his hands: time to himself, in the middle of New York City. He’s never been here before, but he’s fully prepared to become a huge tourist so he can visit some of the food spots he follows on Instagram.

At a respectable hour, he gets up, gets dressed, and does just that in Quinn’s absence. A few very successful dessert-for-breakfast experiences later, he heads back to the hotel to FaceTime Mama and his sisters.

“Can we watch him on TV?” Gabi asks.

“Is he gonna be on one of the floats?” adds Rosa.

“Well, not exactly on a float,” Nando tells them, “but yeah, you can watch him on TV! I don’t know when he’s on, but he’ll know, so I’ll text you guys later.”

“Wish him luck for us,” Mama says, with a warm smile, and Nando smiles, too. It’s not that often you spend Thanksgiving in New York, when your family is thousands of miles away and your friends hundreds, but it’s also not often that your boyfriend, the love of your life, your favorite person in the entire world, is performing at the Thanksgiving Day Parade, so. Y’know.

Nando didn’t know it was possible to be this cheeky with pride.

At noon, he goes downstairs to pick Quinn up from rehearsal. He’ll have a busy Thursday, what with the parade and everything, but for the rest of the day, their time is entirely theirs.

It’s kind of easy to tell where the cast people are coming from, because one of Nando’s various acquired skills from the course the two years so far of this relationship is being able to spot Deaf people in public. It’s really not hard. Just watch for flying hands!

That’s how he spots Quinn— leaving the convention area, among his fellow Deaf West people, or— Kyra, actually, to be more specific. Nando hasn’t seen Kyra in months, since July, actually, when he met her on their Phoenix Spring Awakening tour stop. Her hair is different— in space buns instead of her afro— and she’s wearing a bright orange sweater, which, if her Instagram is accurate, is right in line with her sunshine aesthetic. She was amazing on tour; she’s such a talented person.

She walks side by side with Quinn, and they’re moving kind of slowly because they’re turned halfway toward each other to talk. Their hands move a mile a minute, and Nando knows a good amount of sign, but can’t keep up with this rapid conversation.

Lucky for him, he doesn’t have to. Quinn and Kyra seem to see him at the same time— and Kyra signs something he does understand, with this huge, bright smile. Literally, her sign means cactus and S, but Nando knows that’s just his sign name.

He waves across the lobby, then signs back to her— sunshine and K, for Kyra, and she lights up even more. She runs the rest of the way over, and Quinn goes after her.

How are you? he asks, and Kyra looks so excited that she almost jumps up and down.

They get to hold a small conversation in sign, and Nando loves catching up with Kyra but sort of loves even more how Quinn smiles as he watches them talk, like he’s glad they’re interacting, and it’s just— it’s wholesome. It’s great. Kyra is great, and he’s just so happy for Quinn that he gets to see her and all his tour friends again. He was sad to part with them at the end of the summer.

Kyra’s mom is in the city with her, so they part ways when she arrives; Quinn has another brief and very fast sign conversation with her as she’s leaving. Nando figures it’s probably just ‘see you tomorrow,’ but you never know.

“Baby,” he whispers, leaning down to him as they start side-by-side toward the elevator, “you have to hear about the churro I found this morning.”

Quinn laughs, and looks up to him, winding his arm in his elbow. Nando thinks they were meant to fit together this way. It’s so natural, and so easy. “I would love to hear about that.”

“I took pictures and everything,” he says, then pauses to press the button and hail the elevator. He looks to him again to add, “But also, how was rehearsal? Can I take you out to lunch?”

“Out to lunch?” Quinn swoons. “You must be trying to get in my good graces.”

He pretends to pout. “Am I not already in your good graces?”

Quinn swats at his chest. “Oh, don’t be a drama queen.”

He kind of wants to point out that Quinn, rather than he, is the one who just got out of several hours of pro theatre rehearsal— but he guesses that would be telling him what he already knows. Instead, he grins and shrugs, then kisses his forehead. The elevator dings upon arrival. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he says, and they have a very good afternoon.

*

Thursday

 It’s absolutely frigid outside, and it’s six in the morning, and Quinn is having the time of his life.

He’s huddled on a couch with his castmates, in a trailer, waiting for the day to begin— though he supposes it’s already started, given his five o’clock wake-up call. He thought the tour was exciting, and truly, it was, but this is a whole other excitement entirely— being in New York, with so many performers all in one small place, knowing what lies in store for his day.

Life, he thinks, is maybe a dream come true right now. From coming here with Sebastián to getting to perform, there are so many things he’s grateful for, so many experiences he feels so lucky to have. This is no exception, as he sits in the trailer, with space heaters warming his feet and cast friends on either side. It’s like being back on tour, except this time, it’s one time only. He has to make it count.

And… yes. Quinn is decided. He is going to be completely obnoxious on Instagram today. To start it out, he nudges Kyra, who sits directly next to him, and opens the front camera on his phone.

Kyra lights up for the camera— she truly is the human embodiment of the sun, and Quinn is honestly a little jealous of how good and put-together she already looks at six in the morning. She’s wearing yellow earmuffs that sort of match the gold rims on her glasses, and she hooks an arm around his neck to lean into the picture. Her cheek is warm against his, and he laughs. On his other side, their friend Minji pushes into the camera, too, and flashes a heart at the camera with her thumb and pointer picture together.

Are you posting that? Minji asks, once he’s snapped the selfie.

He puts his phone down and grins. Obviously, I’m posting it.

He’s hunting for stickers to put it on his story when it becomes something of a ‘thing’— the various other friends and castmates around him realize he’s taking pictures, and then, right as he gets the selfie up on his story with a little turkey sticker, everyone is clustering for another.

Group shot!

Let us be on your Instagram!

Yeah, we need a reunion picture.

Hang on, he tells them, and laughs, then climbs up onto the edge of the couch. He faces them to add, I’m not tall enough for that, and while they laugh at his height’s expense, he rolls his eyes and opens his camera again.

Smile! he signs into the camera, and then clicks the button a few times so he’ll have options to choose from. This one should be a post, not a story, he decides. He thinks there are enough cast members in it to maybe send it to production staff. Not to pat himself on the back or anything. Really, he just wants to document these moments with his friends, while they’re all still in one place again.

Oh, you know what we should do? he says to Kyra, as he’s sitting down on the arm of the couch. A before and after picture, with costumes.

Kyra grins, and she nods. They did posts like that several times, over tour— a picture before you get costumed, and then the same picture but after you’re ready to go onstage. We should make a TikTok, Kyra says.

He laughs. Oh, goodness, he says, but he knows he’ll probably wind up doing just that. He has a feeling his social media will be quite alive and well by the end of the day today.

He wants to hold every part of this day in his memory, so he’ll never forget what this feels like.

*

It’s been three months since Quinn got to be Moritz Stiefel.

Though it took a lot out of him this summer, it’s a role he’s missed sorely, and he doesn’t usually get to go back to playing characters whose shows have come to a close for him. He supposes today is a bit of an exception, and, to be sure, he’s been excited for today since the very moment he learned this performance would be happening— but it’s not real, exactly, until he sees himself in a mirror, in costume.

He knows this version of himself, though he hasn’t seen it in awhile. His hair is mussed up, and the school uniform costume fits just as it’s supposed to, with a crooked tie and a tall pair of socks. He isn’t mic’d yet— that’s a step they’ll reach later this morning, with the sound technicians at the parade, and his hearing aids have been out for several hours; they’re tucked into his jacket pocket right now.

The mirror in the trailer is small, and he smiles at himself in it. He always likes this part, performing— when he gets to see himself as the character he’s going to be. Today, it’ll only be for five minutes— but five minutes of glory, on television, with his friends from the summer, and so they’re bound to be some of the most exhilarating five minutes of his life.

He doesn’t want to get a big head, but the fact that so many people will be watching… that’s a lot to take in. On the street, in person, Sebastián will be watching, too, and that’s something he’s very mindful of.

Kyra is putting flowers into her hair, at the small mirror next to him. He grabs his phone to wave it at her, and she grins, then signs for him to wait one second, so he does.

Just like old times, she says, when she’s done, and then lets him take their picture in the mirror. He sends it off to Sebastián first, then puts it on his steadily growing Instagram story.

It is just like old times. Quinn doesn’t want the day to be over, and it’s barely begun.

*

Of all the places he’s performed, Quinn has to say that the streets of New York City rank high.

The morning is a blur— move from place to place, let people tell you where to be, get briefed by tech people who know a lot more about what’s going on than he does. Comply, because that’s what you do. Warm up your voice. Take so many pictures that your phone starts to yell at you that it’s running out of storage.

From a distance, spot someone who looks an awful lot like your boyfriend on the side of the street. You can tell it’s him, because you knit that red scarf for him two Christmases ago. It’s his color, undoubtedly. Kyra signs his name at him from afar, but he doesn’t see either of you. Until you go on.

You get a little nervous, but you don’t have time to be nervous, because you’re on the move and you’re waiting to perform, and then— you blink, a rush of adrenaline, and it’s over.

And you just did what actors all over the country dream of doing.

There aren’t words for that in English or in sign.

*

Friday

 On Friday morning, when Quinn wakes up, it’s snowing.

He doesn’t realize it at first. He’s tucked beneath Sebastián in their hotel bed, waking from a sleep so deep and welcome it felt truly heavenly, buried between covers and warm weight. He opens his eyes to gentle, natural light in the room, a sure sign they slept in, and he blinks a few times before he realizes what he’s seeing in the nearby window.

Snow. So much snow, and falling fast. Goodness, it’s beautiful. The view isn’t bad, either; Manhattan is a sea of buildings, and this snapshot of glass is only a glance. The snow is so peaceful, coupled with the thought that they have nowhere to go, nowhere to be. After the dream come true that was yesterday— the parade, the performance, getting dinner with Sebastián and Kyra at some diner with no other patrons in the middle of the Thanksgiving afternoon— he could use to rest and reflect.

Quinn knows it’s cliché, but he truly does love this city.

He threads his fingers into Sebastián’s curls, and pulls his head close to his chest, and rests in bed while he watches the snow come down.

Some time later, when Sebastián has woken, he gets to spend a lazy, snowy morning in bed, and between gentle kisses, he tells him there’s nowhere else he would rather be.

*

Saturday

 “Can you keep up, baby?”

Nando knows a retort is coming before it even does, but he still grins when Quinn pipes up, from a few feet behind him, “Oh, you just mind your business, Sebastián; I am fine.”

As if to prove it, he closes the small space between them and skates up by his side. Nando knows that getting out on the ice and immediately taunting him was not practical, but it was entertaining, and he likes that Quinn’s cheeks are flushing now. He holds out his elbow, like a peace offering, and Quinn wraps his gloved hand up in it.

“You wanna take a winter stroll?” Nando asks him, with a wink down in his direction.

“This is hardly a stroll,” Quinn replies, in that know-it-all voice that drives Nando crazy in the best way possible. “It’s more of a glide,” he adds, and with that, they start skating along.

“That’s fair,” Nando replies, and tips his head up to take in the view.

He couldn’t spend any weekend even slightly related to the holiday season in New York City without going ice skating under the huge tree. Because first of all, it’s in every New York Christmas movie ever, and second, one of his and Quinn’s first dates was skating, and third, he fricking loves to skate, and fourth, this is his life, so there.

“This is breathtaking,” Quinn remarks, and that’s an understatement. There are enough lights on the tree to probably show up from space, and Nando has learned over the past few days how huge this city actually is, but being right here in the middle of everything just reinforces that truth. They skate along in the throngs of other people, which is part of the tourist experience, and honestly just makes it even better. Nando has seen this on TV so many times. He can’t believe he’s actually here. Pretty much everything about this weekend has been like some kind of dream situation where crazy things you imagine actually come true.

And speaking of dreams. He looks down to Quinn, and it’s, like, okay— cheesy, but the lights are all reflecting in his eyes, and he’s bundled in his scarf and peacoat, and he’s the prettiest thing Nando has ever seen. Including the giant tree. Including everything.

Quinn catches him looking. Of course he does. He smiles, rosy-cheeked and windblown, and hums, “What?”

“I love you,” Nando replies, and kisses him right in the middle of everything.

Quinn laughs out of the kiss. He stays tight on his arm, and somehow, they keep skating without falling. Nando thanks his hockey side for that.

“I love you, too,” Quinn replies, and his voice could block out all the noise of the whole city.

They’re the center of the world.

*

Sunday

Kiersey, NH

 The whole way home to Kiersey, Quinn sleeps on Sebastián’s shoulder.

It’s unintentional, but peaceful all the same, dreams full of memories of the weekend. He gets into his seat at Grand Central Station, slumps against him, and wakes to his gentle nudging hours later, so they can change trains in Boston. The next ride is shorter, but he rests again anyways, and the gray November day is dimming outside the train windows when he opens his eyes at the Kiersey station.

They walk back to campus— it isn’t far. Sebastián is holding both of their bags, and Quinn is holding nothing but his arm. It’s chilly, but bundled up, it isn’t so bad. With this boy, Quinn is so very warm. By the time they round the corner onto Beech Street, lines of student houses with warm windows stretching down either side of the familiar road, the sun has gone down.

On the front steps, Quinn pulls his hands out and looks up to him. He hasn’t had his hearing aids on in over twenty-four hours, and it’s been the most liberating and lovely experience. Before they re-enter the chaos of the hockey house and he’ll have to put them in again, he wants to sign him one last thing.

Thank you for joining me, he says, once he has his gaze. I love you so much.

Sebastián smiles. He puts the bags down by the door, rests both hands on his shoulders, and kisses him gently. No wintry breeze could stop the warmth in Quinn’s chest.

When he’s pulled back, Sebastián replies, I’d join you anywhere. I love you, too.

Quinn beams at him, and with one more shared, quiet moment, Sebastián picks up the bags, and Quinn leans into the front door and pushes it open. Hey, people! he reads on Sebastián’s lips, no doubt a loud exclamation, as they cross the threshold together. We’re home!

Home, indeed. Quinn closes the door behind them, and the warm, familiar, slightly chaotic embrace of Beech Street welcomes them back.

[smut-cake]

Hi! I’d love a very smutty writing of Arthur Morgan and overweight female reader. Modern times if possible. No children for them in the future. Be as smutty as you’d like! Please and thanks.

Warnings : Smut Lemon 🍋 , Fucking in a lake , Outlaw friends

Summary : You and Arthur decide to take a break by the lake ;)

Words: 1.6k

A/N: Hi there lovelies , this is my first ever fan fiction so please go easy on me , however constructive feedback and criticism is more than welcomed, unfortunately I feel like I didn’t capture much of readers chubbiness but I hope you still enjoy regardless, I also decided against a modern AU as I’m still practicing ! ~ R 🍰

Heat & Hunger

Arthur Morgan x (Thiccccc) Chubby female reader (smut)

Y/N = Your Name E/C = Eye Colour

It was a particularly warm day in Strawberry in the mid summer ; stagnant warm air clinging to anything and everything making even the strongest wills wilt like the surrounding flora , when Dutch sent yourself and Arthur out to hunt for some fresh game for camp to cook up, riding on your dark stallion through the surrounded thickened forest and foliage with Arthur up front giving you a delightful view of his perfectly formed “assets” from an life of being an outlaw, and the rhythmic soothing sound of clinking holsters and spurs filling the shared comforting silence.

“How ya doing Y/N? , wanna take a quick break there’s a lake not too far ahead” Arthurs gruff voice addressed over the now soft trots of the horses as he looked at you will a concerned expression.

Even though this wasn’t your first summer out in the west with the crew this was definitely one of the hottest , even the horses huffed from the beating sun .

“That sounds great honestly , feel like I’m gonna melt if we don’t take a break soon and the horses too” you sighed to Arthur , quickly wiping your brow with the arm of your old dirtied shirt.

Arthur gives you a soft nod of acknowledgement, even the heat seems to be getting to him too , as you see his sweat teasing ,almost taunting you as it cascades down the valley of his chest and his stubbled jawline.’ Always deep in thought’ you pondered ,’ seems like something is bothering him’ This has been one of the few occasions you had alone time with Arthur Morgan as of recent and you two have always shared this unspoken bond, from friendly banter to deep conversations to the early mornings greeted by the rising sun, that’s what comes from growing up as an outlaw.

Arthur gets off his exhausted stallion and leads him to the lake to drink, you follow suit with your horse, Arthur stares off across the surface of the lake as he takes a knee to relax under the shade of a nearby tree ,the sun making his eyes seem even deeper than the depths of the sky’s themselves , his damp locks sticking to his brow , his everything… you’re in love with this man , but you never thought of the possibility that he thought of you the same.

“You okay there ? Been quite since we’ve come out here “ his voice snaps you out of you internal turmoil, “yeah just enjoying the view and I could say the same to you ” you through back adding a cheeky wink , Arthur chuckles “must be talking about your reflection little miss” damn him and his self degrading ways , you sigh “if only you knew” you whisper to yourself.

You unbutton the top of your shirt to relieve some of the summer heat , sighing in relief , and splash some of the fresh glistening lake water onto your flushed face , shaking the excess off like beads of diamonds in the sun , now it was his turn to stare at said ‘view’. The beads of water trailed down your neck and voluptuous bosom enticing Arthur’s deepest desires , the sun brought out the E/C hues of your eyes, your curves accentuated by the golden belt that also shined, he had given you it from your very first heist making you look heavenly , Arthur thought the heat was turning him delirious, making him let out a stifled groan.

You splashed him with more lake water bringing him out his trance “looks like you needed to cool off” you giggle “Y/N you minx!” You both playfully chase each other around the lake reminding you of times when you were kids , allowing you to forget about the hardships of being an wanted outlaw and adult responsibilities , you manage to push him into the lake , however his strong grasp pulls you along with him, you both stand up in the lake completely drenched and cooled off.

You both stare at each other enamoured with each other unsaid words spoken through that unheard stare , like a magnet drawn towards each other , his rough calloused hands softly grip your thick hips drawing you closer to his dripping body ,his lidded eyes focused on your soft plump enticing lips , he feels as if he is completely under your spell , but he stops short self doubt consuming him “You deserve someone..” , when you can’t hold back anymore, you want him, surging forward into a passionate fiery kiss wiping all doubt in his mind , hands grip his damp tresses deepening the kiss other hand grips his dampened shirt , his large hand cradles your cheek as the other grips your supple ass never wanting to let go, wanting to close the gap.

You break the kiss to catch your breath, soft breaths and soft groans mingle into a harmony , you breathlessly and softly say with a look that only can be described be as hunger “I want you Arthur Morgan , Only you” he gives the brightest and most genuine smile that you have ever seen grace his features , his expression mimics yours now , hunger , claim her, mark her.

He wraps your delicious thighs around his muscular waist under the cool lake water, as if you weighed nothing, resuming the passionate kiss, teeth clink against each other in a rough make out war. His tongue dominating your mouth, the amount of times he fantasised this and how he thought it would never happen , how wrong he was, he rips open your shirt revealing your bulbous bosom , nipples stand and aching for attention , he grips and fondles one of your stole breasts as his slightly chapped lips trail your tender neck , meeting the apex of your collarbone ‘Mark her’ his mantra screams at him , he bites your collar, nibbling and sucking away, you through your head back in pleasurable pain worsting through your veins, tightening your thighs around him and your core tightening in anticipation. He continues on his sinfully path down your chest valley , he gives you a sultry look before teasing your nipple with his warm tongue, he grinds his hardened member against your aching sex before enveloping your breast in his hungry mouth , soft pant and sighs cascaded out of you mouth singing a sinfully melody into his ears, you grind down to try and relieve some ache between your legs, you remove Arthur’s plaid shirt aching to feel more of him, his abs glisten in the perilous sun previous battle scars littered his skin , Arthur grunts in response as he continues to milk your tit.

His let’s go of your breast with a sinful ‘pop’ before ripping off your jeans and throwing them onto the edge of the lake , he caresses and strokes your sensitive pussy with those strong thick fingers you’ve only dreamed of before , making you moan louder and wantonly, “Y/N..I can’t believe these pretty moans are for me and this pretty little pussy of yours too, tell me what you want baby girl?” He all but groans out breathlessly, his, vines protruding tantalisingly arms tensing teasingly as he strokes you and grips onto you like a desperate man.

‘P..please..Arthur I.. need your cock!” You unbuckle his belt in hast releasing his large straining length , pre cum already dribbling from the tip , he stops his strokes on your pussy and teases you with the length of his cock ,“If it gets to much stop me okay darlin?” You nod in acknowledgement breathlessly with a curt love drunk smile. He kisses your forehead and grips the base of his veiny thick cock and begins to sink slowly into your ever tightening pussy , “shhiiit…youre so tight and h..hot Y/N” you let out a longing moan like a bitch in heat , your chest rises and lowers like the building tension.

He bottoms out , making you feel impossibly full and satisfied, but perfect , Arthur releases a breath he didn’t realise he was holding, looking at you with half lidded eyes and beads of water dripping down his form making him look almost ethereal , he slowly draws out his cock partway testing the waters , and thrusts back into your pussy leaving you breathless , you grip onto his muscular shoulders tighter as he bounces you up and down on his dick while the cool lake water licks deliciously against your thighs and his waist , aiding in some relief from this sin filled pleasure. His thrust become deeper and more deeper as he begins to reach his limit , your clit rubs with thrust bringing you closer to your limit , the knot in the depths of your stomach tightening ready to snap, “A…Arthur I’m gonna C..” you manage to sigh out between each powerful thrust “Yeah…baby girl I hear ya, cum on daddy’s dick”

You’re first to break , legs tighten , arms tighten , pussy almost painfully tightening around Arthur’s throbbing cock and drenching his dick in your essence , you throw you head back in relief almost crying out to the heavens Arthur’s name like a pray.

Arthur’s bros scrunches in anticipation and concentration while chasing his realest using your over sensitive pussy he withdraws his cock from your pussy painting your soft lower stomach and part of his abs , he breathlessly recites your name in the crook of your neck , carefully cradling your tired and spent soft body against his rock hard stature.

The lake water settles as you both come to your after bliss decent , a comforting silence envelopes the both of you as the harsh sun rays become a comforting warm veil over the both of you, tender unspoken words and caresses exchanged ,

looks like camp is going to have to wait a few more heavenly moments to get tonight’s grub.

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Sunday 15 April 1832: SH:7/ML/E/15/0052

8 5

12 ¾

-  Let[ter] fr[om] L[ad]y St[uar]t inclos[in]g     half sheets fr[om] Mrs. Hamilt[o]n to L[ad]y S- [Stuart] de R- [Rothesay] and let[ter] fr[om] L[ad]y G- [Gordon] 1 half sh[ee]t full - fine morn[in]g F[ahrenheit] 61° at 9 1/2 in my r[oo]m and 67° at 9 3/4 in the balc[on]y - Mr. West preach[e]d 33 min[ute]s fr[om] 1 Tim[oth]y 1.15 - queer Evangel[ica]l serm[o]n awake all the time w[e]nt out at 1 1/2 for 1 1/2 h[ou]r - met Captain Cameron she asked him to dinner the murder is out  we talked it over she will not say no so ‘tis done ca[me] to my r[oo]m soon aft[e]r 4 - wr[ote] the foll[owin]g to L[ad]y S- [Stuart] ‘Hast[in]gs Sun[day] 15 Ap[ril] 1832. Th[an]k you ver[y] m[u]ch my d[eare]st L[ad]y St[uar]t, for all y[ou]r k[i]nd anx[iet]y ab[ou]t me, and for Mrs. Hamilton’s excell[en]t let[ter] - we will talk ab[ou]t all this - I shall n[o]t fix an[y]th[in]g till my arriv[a]l in Lond[on] - I fear there is no chance of my see[in]g L[ad]y St[uar]t de Rothesay - I h[a]d a let[ter] fr[om] L[ad]y Gordon this morn[in]g who is alarm[e]d already - I kno[w] n[o]th wheth[e]r Vere will, or can for fear of overweight, wr[Ite] at all today - poor dear girl! I really feel for and pity her excessive shyness and incredulity   on going out to take our little walk we un expectedly met a friend whom between ourselves I rather coutned upon seeing again rather sooner at last poor Vere has found herself almost forced into entering upon the subject with me and I have really thought it right   assured as I am of your approbation to express my gladness to see our friend who is to dine with us this evening   as I find he stays tomorrow I conclude he will call in the morning  when it will be so natural for me to be out that even Vere’s fastidiousness can find not fault  the mere being asked to dinner might be taken as enough  I hope and think it will       we ha[ve] h[a]d a good deal of n[or]th east wind till today; b[u]t Vere h[a]s borne it bet[ter] then I expect[e]d; and I am in bet[ter] sp[iri]ts ab[ou]t h[e]r than I w[a]s - ever, dear[e]st L[ad]y St[uar]t, ver[y] affect[ionatel]y y[ou]rs A. [Anne] Lister’ at 5 20/: took d[o]wn my no[te] 3 p[ages] of 1/4 sh[ee]t to ‘the Hon[oura]ble Lady St[uar]t Whitehall’ to Miss H- [Hobart] to enclose w[i]th Mrs. Hamilton’s let[ter] to L[ad]y S- [Stuart] twenty minutes with Miss H- [Hobart] laughing and joking but found the tears sstarting as I kissed her forehad and ran away   what are you going said she but I was off

saying oh I dare not look behind me     a few tears are falling but away with them ‘For hum[a]n weal

heav[e]n husb[a]nds all events’   I am satisfied  I can keep uo the friendship try to arrange  with Lady Gordon and be better off than with Miss H- [Hobart] ‘tis strik[in]g 6 - dress[e]d - din[ner] at 6 3/4 - on going down saw them on the sofa to[ge]ther and both looking so satisfied I suspected how it was  the moment we left the dining room about eight he staying behind  quarter hour she told me it was all over he made his offer

in a very flattering manner to her done it very well and she had accepted him I said it was much better I was very glad of it she gave me her two cheeks to kiss  I kisse[d] the first one then the other but said nothing   she morelized a little said how a moment changed our whole  lives but she thought she should not repent  he stays tomorrow I asked if he would dine with us yes she did not care now what was ssaid I gently suggested that it would be more consistent with her former  primminess to tell him that now they could not mistake each other she thought he had better not dine here two days together  they could see more of each other at the Lodge  and perhaps he would not be the less pleased with  her for this  I was not prudish but now perhaps I even felt more particular than she did   she seemed satisfied with what I said said Italy had already been mentioned for the winter he came in   we soon had coffee I poured it out ordered tea in half an hour and soon came upstairs   a little before nine  and left them to their happiness  what a sudden change for us alll  for me too she will go to Italy but not with me  well tho’ I made my eyes very yed [red] with crying before dinner I already begin to think it is better she would  have left me in the lurch when I could have managed less well than now odd enough we had scarcely  gone out to the house this afternoon when we a long small man at a distance before us and she said  how very far that man’s arms are for his ssides (one saw the light between the uper arm and side)  I don’t like that  when who should it be but Captain Cameron   he shook hands with us both we walked  up High street and past the nursery garden and then took several turns in the croft  I thought she walked up and down very satisfiedly  in returning along George street I heard her ask him if he would eat his mutton chop with us  ‘I shall be very glad to see you’ ‘will you really’ said he in a low voice  oh oh thought I then it’s all over  and we talked it over on our return  she owned that aunt and she had agreed it  would be very foolish to refuse him but still she refused to believe he really would offer till he had absoultely  done it  she will soon be sufficiently in love   well my prospects are changed  it was only this morning at  

 SH:7/ML/E/15/0053

breakfast I had spoken of my father and mother as having been unhappy together  an ill assorted match and spoke of Marian as   if I wanted to make a thing better always pulling it down again  she liked to everybody be cock of the dunghill etc etc in fact I have gradually of late become more confidential luckily I have never told her my fortune or income and on the whole said nothing I am very sorry for  I do not feel uncomfortably committed tho’ I did laugh and say befor[e] church this morning  well if it was not for the petticoats the thing would be clear enough  yes that it would said she  perhaps ssaid I laughingly it is pretty much the same thing in spite of them (the petticoats)  how little dream what so few hours would bring forth while doubting of Captain C- [Cameron]  she liked to keep me within reach better have me than neither or nobody  le jeu vaut la chandelle  I am satisfied perhaps I shall do tolerably yet  at all rates I feel more comfortable after having  written the above - fr[om] 8 55/.. to 9 1/2 wr[ote] the last 33 lines in Miss H-‘s [Hobart] room my own full of smoke  w[e]nt d[o]wn to tea at 9 35/.. - talked away agreeably enough he staid till eleven and a quarter  she then ate an orange and when she had done it I asked for my orangeade  oh said she I had forgot it  I made no ob[servation]s but kept  up very well ca[me] upst[ai]rs at 11 1/2 and to my r[oo]m at 11 35/.. - kissed her forehead as usual and glad to be  off rang my bell immediately to get rid of Cameron and have no fear of interruption feeling  that I should make a fool of myself as ssoon as alone  why do I do it   she never cared for me well she even think for one moment of what I may or may not really feel on this occasion?  well flow on my useless miserable foolish tears  but they have flowed before perhaps  even more uncomfortably than now there is less mortification  the thing is at least  intelligible I shall get the better of it and at least be thankful that my fate is fixed  shall I see much of her hereafter or not   how odd will seem our meeting in Italy! but I shall be better then  how thankful I am this business did not happen sooner  I shall at least  escape the lovemaking  she says I behave beautifully she little guesses the misery of this tearful moment as I write but no more surely it will be over by morning  Finish mild sunless day - F[ahrenheit] 63° at 11 3/4 in my r[oo]m and 49 1/2° at 12 3/4 in the balc[on]y

[jaeknightorbats]

Tunnel Caprica [M] part 2

Pairings: Baekhyun x Sehun (SeBaek)

Ratings: NC-17

Genre: Smut, dark romance

Description: It was a normal day for convenience store worker Byun Baekhyun when Sehun—a seemingly wealthy man—entered the store, only getting overdosed by drugs afterwards.  It was the encounter that would change Baekhyun’s life. It was the encounter that introduced him to a world that should never exist in this already problematic world.

Warnings: Graphic sexual content, substance use, drug overdose, alcohol, and strong language

Chapters: Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 (NEW!)

Synopsis: Tunnel Caprica connects two cities under the huge and long mountain ranges of the country Ioca [a-yo-ka], making it one of the longest tunnels in the world with a distance of nearly 40 kilometers. However, people choose to drive the 3-hour long pass than driving through the tunnel, because driving through the tunnel can be claustrophobic—an hour drive with nothing but repeating images of the never ending tunnel. But through the tunnel also hides the entrance to another world that Baekhyun is yet to find out.

Part 2

Word count: 4.7k

How does it feel like saving someone’s life?

It has been almost a month since the man named Oh Sehun promised Baekhyun that he was going to contact him to repay for saving Sehun’s life. But he’s never contacted Baekhyun since.

Baekhyun forgot all about it, as if it didn’t happen. It was the least he could do. Besides, he was given a huge tip—Sehun gave all the cash on his wallet. It was around $400. He even apologized if it wasn’t much, he doesn’t bring much cash, he said.

Because of it, Baekhyun was able to pay his dues on time and even bought his girlfriend a factory unlocked iPhone, which made her beyond happy. He took his previous gift from Yuri since he lost his things, together with his phone, at the parking lot the time he saved Sehun.

He felt like it was bound to happen, it helped him solve his problems. Must be really his lucky day.

Baekhyun was at his place, with his girlfriend. They had their legs tangled to one another at his bed, sucking each other’s tongues, kissing each other passionately.

Such bliss they felt as they lose their minds to feel the other.

Yuri slightly pushed Baekhyun’s chest away from her, separating their lips apart. Tips of their noses close to one another, feeling each other’s breath.

She looked into Baekhyun’s hazy eyes, biting her lips.

“We’ve been dating for more than a year,” she gulped, hesitant to say what she had on mind. Baekhyun gently smiled as he adored his partner. He stroked his hand on Yuri’s hair. She rolled her eyes away to rolled it back again to Baekhyun’s.

“You know…you can touch me, right?” She continued, “…Anywhere.”

Baekhyun’s cheeks flared, feeling a little embarrassed. “I know. It’s just that…” He fixed Yuri’s hair back to her ear and held the side of her small face. “…I respect you so much.”

“Aw,” breathed Yuri. She was flattered but embarrassed because she just made herself look horny. She held Baekhyun’s hand and kissed it. “You’re so sweet. Thank you.”

They stared to each other’s eyes dearly, as if they were the only people in the world.

“I have so much respect for you because I love you. I hope you know that.”

She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of Baekhyun’s palm on her cheek, the warmth of his legs squeezing hers, his body heat, and his love. “I love you, Baek.”

Then, Baekhyun softly pulled Yuri to him and gave her a kiss.

It’s a weekend and Baekhyun has an 11AM shift at work. He wished he could stay with Yuri longer, but he got to work to earn money to pay the bills and to make his girl happy.

Pretty average flow at the store. There were a couple of customers who held the line, few pissed him off, but he got to stay composed—it’s his job.

“After 6 months of being away, the son of the ex-president finally came back home to his homeland.”

“It’s that peak season again.” An old customer in front of the counter turned his head from the television back to Baekhyun, trying to start a short conversation.

“Well, yeah. It’s almost summer,” Baekhyun replied with a friendly smile.

The old man scowled. “Who are you talking to?”

Baekhyun scoffed and watched the grumpy man walked away after he paid his items.

Baekhyun suddenly received a text. A text from Yuri. Seeing her name on his cellphone screen always made him smile.

‘I miss you, B,’ it said.

He bit his lips to control the joy he was feeling.

“Now, what are you grinning about?”

Baekhyun shoot his phone behind his back pocket as soon as he could when he heard his manager spoke.

He faced the person in front of him.

Wait, no. It wasn’t his manager.

“Mr. Sehun?”

The man, Sehun, sneered as he placed a bottle of sparkling water at the counter. Baekhyun slowly walked forward to scan his item. He didn’t know what to feel, maybe surprised.

Sehun was wearing casual clothes, a simple plain T-shirt, pants, and a baseball cap. He wasn’t wearing sunglasses. Completely different from what he was wearing the night Baekhyun met him—he looked like one of the people. But there was also an atmosphere around him, or how the way he moved, that differed him from other of people.

“How’s it going?” Baekhyun asked, that’s the only thing he could think of. The man in front of him seemed well and healthy compared weeks ago when he was trying to revive him.

“I’ve been busy traveling so I wasn’t able to contact you.” Sehun opened the bottle of water and drank it after he gave his payment. “Besides, I’ve been looking for you here the same time I went here before. Twice, I think? You weren’t here.”

Surprised, Baekhyun’s brows climbed his forehead. “What?”

“Yeah, I asked someone here.”

“Why though?”

Sehun sneered, looking at Baekhyun as if the answer wasn’t obvious. “You saved my ass, man! C’mon.”

“Excuse me.” Suddenly, a soft voice behind Sehun’s took the attention of both. It was the next customer.

“Anyway,” Sehun looked back to Baekhyun, reaching for his hand, so, Baekhyun took it. “Come to my party tonight. You must come.”

Sehun turned his back to Baekhyun, raised his arm with two finger lifted, and slightly waved. “Ciao.”

There was a piece of paper on Baekhyun’s hand. He opened it, and there was an address written on it.

Baekhyun was on a completely different area of the district, he was outside the city. The peaceful side, where each house or establishment he drove by were far apart.

# 1228 Grand Aria Estates, Cayman.

Located at west side of the district, where one could get the best view of the majestic mountain range of his country, Ioca—the Turris Caelo mountains, which also meant the Heaven Tower mountains. People treat the mountains sacred because it became their shield from the horrid weather that wanted to cross their country. The mountains have saved Ioca from calamities countless times.

Cayman was considered as the wealthiest and most exclusive suburb in his district, if not in Ioca. Baekhyun knew the area, but he hardly came by—he has no business there. Now, he has.

It was already past 9:00 PM, Baekhyun was in front of the gates of the residential village, as written on the paper. He rode his third-hand car to reach the place since it wasn’t exactly an easy place to find. 

He had a little fight with Yuri before she let him attend the party. At first, Baekhyun didn’t want to come because he felt intimidated—there was no doubt that it would be a party for the rich. He’s heard of the residential village—the price of a single square-meter lot still blew his mind. He could live for years with that kind of money.

Yuri initially thought a woman has invited Baekhyun to a party once Baekhyun mentioned anything about a party. She started jumping conclusions. But when she learned it was the man who Baekhyun saved—the man who gave Baekhyun $400—invited him to the party, Yuri forced Baekhyun to attend. She thought there could be some bigger reward waiting for her boyfriend. She even helped him which clothes should he wear—she wanted her boyfriend to look slick. They didn’t know what kind of party he’ll be attending but Yuri made him wear something he could wear at any type of party—a tight jean, a black V-neck shirt, a suit they bought at the thrift shop the last minute, and a black class B leather shoes without socks to finish it all.

Yuri wanted to come herself but it was Baekhyun who doesn’t let her. He knew what alcohol could do to Yuri, he didn’t want Yuri to embarrass herself in front of people they don’t know. This made Yuri infuriated. Shouting until their throats sore. At the end, Yuri still pushed Baekhyun to attend and she only had one instruction to Baekhyun: “Don’t fool around.”

The tall iron rails began to roll open after the guards confirmed that Baekhyun was invited to Sehun’s party. The guard took his license and checked the trunk and bottom of his car with a ferocious Rottweiler tied on his hand—it was a strict security, which made Baekhyun feel a little more intimidated.

He regretted everything and wanted to go back, he should’ve brought Yuri with him, at least. But there was no turning back, Sehun already knew he reached his address.

He drove slowly by the hills. It was dark and peaceful, it looked like a very safe and quiet neighborhood. Baekhyun realized how ridiculously rich the man he saved as he drove passed by the different sizes of mansions and villas in the village.

He wouldn’t be surprised if Sehun lived next to a famous celebrity or personality.

 He finally saw a house—a large house—with a line of luxury cars parked outside.

This must be the one.

He parked a little farther away from the house. He was a little embarrassed by his ride. He took a deep breath before getting out of the car.

He said ‘tonight’. It’s a party, so it should start late.

He observed the house as he got nearer by the gates. Gates as almost tall as the main gates of the village. A classic white two-floor mansion with red bricked roofs. A fairly big driveway to the main doors. A lot of cars. All lights shined through the window. He could hear indistinct music from the house, it wasn’t very loud but he could hear it.

1228, written on one of the pillars of the gate.

He stood outside the gates and rang the doorbell. Without any word, the gate buzzed and automatically opened. He spotted two men in suits, with gears hanging on their ears, must be some guard. As he walked on the driveway, the main door opened, a man walked outside his doorsteps, and stood there waited for Baekhyun. It was Sehun. Hands on pocket, looking tall and sharp, with broad shoulders, on his black mandarin collared shirt under a white suit—he was shining. He had his hair gelled up to the back of his and and it shined under the light. He was looking very slick.

Sehun stared at the man who avoided eye contact with him.

“You’re late,” said Sehun as soon as Baekhyun reached a close distance to him. “I don’t like late people.”

Baekhyun’s heart almost dropped, nervously stepping on the short stairs to the main doors. Sehun seemed serious. “Uh yeah. I thought—“

Sehun howled, breaking his serious face on. “I was kidding! Haha. You looked so tense. C’mere.” Sehun wrapped an arm to Baekhyun’s shoulders and they entered the house.

Baekhyun nervously laughed. It wasn’t a good joke.

“Seriously, though, I value time very much.”

Baekhyun forced a laugh from his nose. But you didn’t state what time.

“But I’m glad you made it. I thought you weren’t gonna make it. You missed dinner, though. Have you eaten?” Baekhyun nodded to Sehun’s question. “You look good, by the way,” Sehun added.

Sehun released Baekhyun from his arm. Baekhyun got to breathe better. A waiter in suit, holding a tray of champagne, stopped in front of them, Sehun took one glass then gave it to Baekhyun.

What am I doing here? I don’t belong here.

Baekhyun was stiff from his position, feeling overly intimidated by everything. Even the waiter who was serving them intimidated him.

His stomach doesn’t feel good.

He looked at the glass on his hand, he’s never drank champagne in his life. But he may need it to gain some courage so he could go through the party.

Baekhyun slightly swirled the narrow glass near his nose, because he doesn’t know how to drink it, then the nice subtle aroma of the liquid that sort of smelled like flowers and fruits entered his nose. He took a sip of it, and it tasted like how it smelled but a little funkier because of the bubbles and the alcohol content. He liked the taste of it, so, he drank it all in one shot, surprising Sehun.

“I know right?” expressed Sehun, with a smug look on his face. “Tasted good, huh?”

“Yeah.” Baekhyun forced a smile after tasting the drink. He may have not drank all types of alcohol in his life, but he knew he needed something stronger.

People gave them short attention as they walked inside the house until they reached the backyard. Baekhyun only assumed that people were turning their heads to them because he was with the host. Or maybe he was wearing such simple clothes. Sehun nodded to whoever he laid his eyes on and made eye contact with. They walked through the house until they reached the huge backyard.

Baekhyun assumed that the party would be loud—the one with DJs and loud music, lots of young people such as themselves, or maybe even younger. But it wasn’t, it was rather quaint. It was a sophisticated party.

High tables scattered around the backyard, occupied by people in suits and dresses, mostly suits. Everyone dressed interestingly, or what he liked to call it—weird fashion. It was the battle of who has the largest earrings and jewelries for women. Men were much more simple, but some wanted to stand out with their colored suits.

Classical music played across the yard.

“Hey, Sehun.” A man walked towards them with a glass of dark golden drink on his hand. “So, are you going to buy it?”

While Sehun was minding his own business, a waiter carrying a bottle of liquor and a couple of small, cube glasses on a tray passed by them, catching Baekhyun’s attention.

That’s what I need.

“Sir, wait,” he called the waiter, in a timid voice. “Two, please.” He coughed, slightly cracking his voice.

The waiter poured the clear liquid to two glasses. Baekhyun then took glasses of alcohol, which seemed like tequila, or something hard. He drank it both in one shot one after another without holding back.

It was tequila. The alcohol went smoothly through Baekhyun’s throat, but he instantly felt the fire ran through his face. “Wow,” he mouthed. He could feel his ears firing up. He never had something like that. He returned the glasses back to the waiter.

“Woah,” said Sehun, he watched Baekhyun took his shots.

Baekhyun gave a half smile. “Just trying to catch up.”

“Haha, you’re funny. By the way,” Sehun turned to the man he was talking to. “Chen, this is the man who saved my life—Baekhyun. But don’t tell my father.”

Both of them laughed, even Baekhyun. Then, the man named Chen shook hands with Baekhyun. “Thank you,” Chen said. “Otherwise, sales would be slow.” It seemed like a joke because Sehun laughed. But Baekhyun didn’t get the joke, he only pretended to laugh.

Chen nodded his head to Sehun then to Baekhyun and walked to another table. The other two went for an empty table.

“That man sell art,” Sehun said as if explaining everything what just happened. “He thinks he’s good, but he’s all right. Good artists aren’t interested in money.”

Baekhyun nodded, pretending he was interested. The taste of the strong liquid he just consumed still lingered on his palate, and could still feel the after effects it had. His mind was still on the shot.

 “So, what’s this party all about?” Baekhyun has been meaning to ask.

“Nothing much, really. Catching up, I guess.”

“Rich people,” Baekhyun muttered to himself, hoping Sehun didn’t hear it.

“What?”

Baekhyun immediately shook his head.

“It’s been busy. Everyone’s been out, traveling—be it business or leisure. Guess we finally had the time to catch up,” Sehun added.  “Also that’s why I couldn’t contact you immediately.”

“Yeah, you did mention.” Baekhyun slowly nodded, roaming around his eyes to observe the place. Then, one particular person took his attention. “Wait, is that—“

He looked at Sehun for confirmation, and Sehun turned at the direction where Baekhyun had his eyes on.

“Minseok?” Sehun smirked, returning his look back at Baekhyun. “Yeah, it’s been hard for him lately. Media doesn’t understand privacy.”

Baekhyun shouldn’t be that surprised to see someone he saw on the television, Sehun lived in such a luxurious neighborhood. But he wasn’t expecting to see someone like Kim Minseok.

Kim Minseok was the one who Kang Sunmi, a fifteen year-old, filed a divorce with. He’s been in the news a lot lately. Kim Minseok was 34 years old when he married the 13-year-old girl. He’s now 36.

Baekhyun felt repulsed. “What the heck is he doing here?” He couldn’t stand the fact that he was in a same room as the person who married and abused a child. It absolutely appalled him.

Sehun only observed Baekhyun’s reaction. “He’s actually my friend, and heavily misunderstood.”

Without thinking of his actions—and how could he, the tequila hit him strong, it made his head feel a little funny—he expressed a bitter face. “What?! It’s absur—“

Then, Baekhyun noticed the face that Sehun was wearing—he didn’t look happy. It washed away the disgust that was painted on his face. It scared him.

Sehun walked closer to Baekhyun, facing opposite the high table with elbow leaning on it—he was closer to Baekhyun’s ears. Sehun said in a low voice, “You have no idea how easy it is to accuse a 36-year-old pedophile.”

Baekhyun’s couldn’t blink an eye, his face was rigid with tension.

Sehun added, “That girl—Sunmi, and her mom demanded $20 million from Minseok just to not go public about the divorce. Even threatened him that they’ll accuse him of abuse when Minseok never did. He fucking loved that girl.”

Hearing the price baffled Baekhyun’s mind. They talked about money as if they have such large amount always at their disposal. Baekhyun couldn’t speak for a second, trying to process it all.

“Women,” Sehun grumbled.

Baekhyun hesistantly asked, “If that’s true… why isn’t that on the news?”

Sehun slightly scoffed, shaking his head. “You just did the face what the whole society thinks of people like Minseok. It’s pointless. We don’t want fanning the flame, now do we, Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun’s brows furrowed. He’s got a point.

Women can be so cruel. He’s started to feel sympathy towards the accused.

He shook his head upon an absurd realization. No, I shouldn’t feel sympathy. It’s wrong. It’s wrong.

“So, they would let the girl win?” Baekhyun asked seriously.

Sehun stopped, looking into Baekhyun’s eyes. “What the heck is this seriousness all about?” he threw his hand to Baekhyun’s chest. “Let’s enjoy the party!”

They started to roam around the yard, meeting and greeting whoever needed Sehun’s attention. There were so much he didn’t understand, but Baekhyun kept drinking a glass of champagne. The drink was actually working—he could feel the effects of the alcohol to him. He knew he couldn’t walk straight.

Baekhyun was starting to like the party. He never knew that such delicate parties were something he was looking for; he was always used to, and always heard of, the loud ones to be more fun. There was something fancy in these type of parties—well, because it was—and it made him feel a little good and a little high class and up above compared to the people he knew. It was a nice feeling.

“Hey, man!” An obviously drunk guy approached them, he seemed a little younger than them.

Sehun faked a smile, it was already obvious to Baekhyun that Sehun didn’t want to be associated with the guy. “Jaemin.”

The guy, Jaemin, threw a hearty pat at Sehun’s shoulder. He leaned closer to Sehun’s ears. “Hey, w-why didn’t you come to my party?!” He couldn’t even speak his words properly. “You know what? You know what? The plane was amazing,” he emphasized, smiling smugly, as if trying to make Sehun jealous.

Sehun jerked Jaemin’s hand off him, but still kept his grace and said as politely as he could, “I think you’ve had a little more than enough on your booze.”

“No, no!” Jaemin wavered on his place. “You know! You should’ve seen…” An indistinct voice followed after he whispered something to Sehun.

The light in Sehun’s eyes changed.

It made Baekhyun wonder.

Sehun light patted the guy’s chest and said, “Yeah, I think it’s time for you to go home.”

Sehun walked towards Baekhyun, shaking his head. “Nouveau riche,” he mumbled with an accent that Baekhyun couldn’t distinguish.

“Nuvo what?” Baekhyun’s brows creased, trying to pronounce what he just heard.

“New money. It’s French. Let’s go.” They both turned their backs to Jaemin and started walking again. “His parents are scam… brilliant, but a scam.” He added, “They made people believe in social media that their company were donating something like money, trees, or food. But they’re really only keeping their money to themselves, and still gain hundreds of thousands of followers. It’s infuriating. And people are just so fucking stupid.”

“Yeah, that sounds infuriating,” said Baekhyun, not really interested. Sehun kept sharing things to him that he never asked about, but he could only nod and agree.

“No, it’s not because of that. But because of his fucking ego. He thinks he’s all high and mighty. His parents bought that fucking plane, not him.”

“Plane? Wow,” Baekhyun reacted, as if it only occurred to him what they talked about. “People can actually buy planes?”

Sehun looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “’Course, you can.”

“How much that costs?”

Sehun scoffed. “Not cheap.”

“E-hey!” A loud voice suddenly distracted the two from walking.

It was a middle-aged, tall woman wearing an African patterned maxi dress. It seemed like a dress robe to Baekhyun—a fancy, fashionable dress robe. Her dangling bracelets made a sound as she opened her arms wide open, waiting for them, waiting for Sehun. Sehun gave a big smile, also seemed excited after seeing her

They both hugged each other out and kissed both of their cheeks with their cheeks. The woman looked at Baekhyun with a mischievous and flirty look. “So, who’s this cute guy you’re with?”

Sehun patted Baekhyun’s shoulder with a tight grip. “This is Byun Baekhyun. A friend.”

Baekhyun smiled at the woman, shy to say anything to the pretty woman.

“Oooh. Hi, Baekhyun.” The woman lightly pulled Baekhyun’s shoulder closer to her to kiss him both on the cheek.

“Baekhyun, this is good friend Maria or Mimi.”

“Mimi,” Baekhyun repeated. He found the nickname weird, Mimi was a foreign name for a local face.

“So.” Sehun grinned, rubbing his hands, and regaining Mimi’s attention back to him.

Mimi seemed like she already understood what Sehun was trying to say. She looked at the guy behind her who was in a simple suit, and the guy behind him understood Mimi. He took something on his inner pockets and gave it to Sehun.

Sehun bit his lips, still grinning, and raised a small clear plastic zip bag with white, tiny pills in it.

It didn’t take long for Baekhyun to figure it out—it was obviously drugs. It didn’t surprise him. If he could guess what it was, it could be ecstasy.

Sehun exhaled in satisfactory through his nose, shaking his head to Mimi. “I love you, Mimi. You’re the best.”

“Of course, anything for you, my dear.” They both hugged each other. “But, I must be going.”

“What? You just got here.”

“I really must be going. The kids,” she shrugged as if she couldn’t do anything that she has kids waiting for her at home. “But it was good seeing you.”

Sehun clicked his tongue. “That’s very sweet of you for stopping by.”

“Of course!” Mimi gracefully waved her hand to both Sehun and Baekhyun as she left the yard followed by her guard or something.

Sehun waited for her to leave from their sight.

“Do you take pills?” He then asked, offering Baekhyun a pill.

“No, I’m good.”

“You sure? This is shit premium. You don’t see this every day.”

Baekhyun stared at the white pill that was resting on Sehun’s palm. He shook his head. “Nah, I really rather not.”

“Okay.” Sehun shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He drank the pill and took a sip of whiskey that he was holding.

Even though Baekhyun was enjoying the party, he was starting to feel impatient why was he ever invited to the party at the first place.

They transferred inside, sitting at a sofa. Some people were still enjoying the party, some people had to go.

“Hey,” called Sehun to Baekhyun. “I’d really appreciate if you don’t tell anybody about what happened. Well, except to the ones we’ve already told here.”

Baekhyun was feeling a little laggy, and feeling a little hot. His face was all greasy, but he didn’t care. “Yeah, ok,” he replied, tipsy. He understood what Sehun was talking about—about him being overdosed.

Sehun clicked his tongue, slightly shaking his head. “My parents’ worse than jail. But damn, I’m glad you didn’t call the fucking ambulance. That’d be even worse than prison!” He paused. “My thanks to you.”

Baekhyun just scoffed.

Oh wait. He forgot to document the party and post it later on social media. He had a sudden urge to take his new phone out and share he’s on a fancy party. Bet I’d impress a lot of people.

So, he recorded a simple 10 second video.

“So, how’s your sex life?”

Baekhyun was surprised by the unexpected transition after he finished recording. The question wasn’t about his life, his job, his financial state, not even his love life, but Sehun asked about his sex life.

“What?” he said with a little giggle, eyes a little droopy. The alcohol was making his muscles a little heavier.

“You heard me.”

Baekhyun scoffed, leaning back to the sofa. He looked at Sehun, feeling ridiculed. Baekhyun felt a sense of insecurity pierced through him. He couldn’t admit that he’s never done it. Kids losing their virginities at 15, and he’s almost 30—still a virgin. It’s an embarrassment, but it was also his choice.

“So?” Sehun was waiting.

Baekhyun laughed through his nose, still couldn’t speak a word. He wanted to lie about it, but for some reason, he didn’t know what to say. “Mm—Uh” He was basically slurring words.

Sehun reclined back with eyes wide open after concluding something on his mind. “No.” He leaned forward, very close to Baekhyun’s face and said in a low voice. “You’ve never done it?”

“No!” Baekhyun denied, moving away from Sehun. “Of course, n-“ Baekhyun’s voice got lower.

“So, when was the last time? Earlier?” Sehun was high, all right. The grin on his face was creeping Baekhyun out.

Baekhyun couldn’t form a word again. He emptied the glass that he was having.

Sehun realized what his friend was hiding but decided to not say anything.

“So, who was the one you’re texting earlier? And why were you all so fucking grinning? Girl or boy?”

Baekhyun cringed. “Of course, she’s a girl. What the hell?”

“What? People appreciate my open mind-ness.” Sehun shrugged with open arms. “How old is she?”

“23.”

“Nice. So, she your girlfr—“

“Yeah, she’s my girlfriend. Why do you ask so much questions?”

Sehun stayed silent and respected Baekhyun. They both stayed silent for a while, observing the party, Baekhyun drinking another booze.

“What’s this party all about? Again?” Baekhyun asked. He felt calmer and stupid—he realized that he just raised his voice in front of a millionaire.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” asked Sehun, ignoring Baekhyun’s question.

Baekhyun bounced his head as a response. He looked at Sehun. He noticed that there was something different about him, about his eyes. Something clicked. He didn’t know what exactly, but it was intriguing.

“Follow me.” Sehun stood up, buttoning his unbuttoned white suit, and started to walk.

Baekhyun watched him walk, then he later followed.

Maybe this is it, he thought. The reward I’m waiting for.

He kept following Sehun who was walking straight. He realized Sehun only had one drink, and it was the whiskey after he took the pill. He checked the time on his watch. He had to frown hard to see the image on his wobbling wrist clearly.

It’s almost midnight.

To be continued...

A/N: Send notes. Follow me on twitter for updates @/jaeandbats

**

Previous chapter / Next chapter 

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Tunnel Caprica: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 (NEW!)

[cosmicheromp3]

happy new year to dani @leonardodvnc, here’s my gift for you for the AHN gift exchange! i hope you like it and that i didn’t do too bad by your requests haha, i had a lot of fun writing lian’s pov for the first time! ❣️

you can also read on ao3. enjoy!

“Here’s the plan.”

Wally looked at the sheets of paper Dick had just placed on the counter, next to where Lian was sitting on top of it (to be on everyone else’s level, of course). “Tell me he doesn’t seriously have a strategy for baking cake.”

“Have you ever met Dick?” Donna asked with a raise of her eyebrows.

“Don’t complain about the plan, I helped come up with it.” Lian crossed her arms. She was proud of their plan and wouldn’t let them put it down. “We need one, so all of you don’t burn down the kitchen.”

She looked pointedly at Wally, who acted surprised – eyes wide, eyebrows shooting up, pointing at himself and mouthing “me?”. Lian couldn’t keep up her stern face and giggled at the exaggerated expression.

“I doubt it’s even possible to burn down the Watchtower kitchen.” Donna said, looking around at the professional grade kitchen. It was very big and clean, with marble countertops and the biggest fridges Lian had ever seen. She had never been here, since there was a smaller and less intimidating kitchen that everyone – or at least her dad – always used.

“Why are we at the Watchtower, again?” Wally’s mouth made a funny shape.

“It’s the most accessible to everyone.”

“Roy could come here.”

“He’s not going to, I checked.” Dick was very patient.

Lian not so much. “Can we please get back on track?” She pleaded, finally shutting Wally up.

When they were all quiet again, Dick continued. “So, the plan. Donna and I will make the batter while Wally and Garth make the frosting, and–”

“I don’t want to be on team Wally.” Garth complained, very rudely interrupting Dick.

Wally huffed. “What are you, ten?”

“Hey!” Lian smacked Wally on the arm. “I’m ten.”

“See, Garth? Lian’s ten and more mature than you are.”

“That’s not–”

“Everyone!” Donna’s shouted above the complaining. It was impossible to stay on topic with these four – if Lian hadn’t seen them come together as a team, she’d doubt how they got things done. “Wally and Garth, you are both children. If we actually want to have something to give to Roy by this evening, I can trade places with Garth. If that’s okay with Lian and Dick?”

Lian made a serious face, narrowing her eyes, hands on her hips like she’d seen her aunt Dinah do. She traded looks with Dick, who made a move with his head as if to say it was her choice. “I’ll allow it.” She’d heard the phrase on TV, and it made her feel like an important grown up to say it.

Dick and Lian gave everyone their specific instructions. Lian wanted different flavors for the cake, and she wanted it to be tall. Not so tall that it would fall, but tall enough to look cool. And have loooots of filling. So they had a lot of work to do.

It went a bit smoother after their initial discussions. Lian’s task was the most fun, that’s why she had picked it. She was supervising everyone else so they wouldn’t burn anything down – this was, as previously stated, her biggest concern; she could picture a big fire coming out of the oven and Garth having to explode the pipes to put it out with water –, but she was also making decorations.

She started making a bunch of little arrows, cutting fondant into stripes, triangles and feather shapes that she assembled. Then she made quivers and bows. She had seen so many of these in her life that she worked totally by memory, even for the details (because, of course, she was adding lots of details).

She was very, very focused on cutting the shape of a bow with an arrow nocked into it, tongue sticking out of her mouth in concentration, when she was startled by Donna raising her voice.

“Wallace Rudolph West, I did not just see you use super speed to add more sugar to the frosting.”

“What could go wrong about more sugar!”

“Uncle Wally! Don’t ruin the cake!”

“I won’t, sweetie, I totally know what I’m doing.”

“He doesn’t.” Garth mock whispered to Lian, but he was on the other side of the kitchen so it was actually loud.

Lian glared at Wally with all the intensity she could muster. She thought she had a pretty good intimidating face, if you asked her. When she was satisfied he would behave, she shoved him so he’d get back to work.

Team Batter had been suspiciously quiet about what they were doing, so Lian checked on them from her place on the other side of the counter. They were taking pans out of the oven.

“That is not cooked, Dick.”

“It should be done by now. The timer went off and it’s brown on the edges.”

“That’s liquid in the middle. That’s so liquid my hydrokinesis probably works on it.” Dick opened his mouth to reply but Garth cut him off. “I know that’s not how it works, I’m just making a point.”

“Okay, okay, we’ll put them back in.”

Donna was looking at the same scene next to Lian, who had the urge to smack her hand on her forehead. “I think you’re my last ally.” She told her, very seriously.

Donna nodded solemnly. “I will not disappoint you.”

In the end, seemingly baked cakes came out of the oven (they smelled great, at least) and something that looked like and hopefully tasted like frosting was sitting in a few different bowls, some of it white and some of it colored red.

Putting it all together was fun but, if Lian had thought it was messy before, this was even worse. When they were done, everyone had frosting on their faces, the cake looked more pink than red, the lettering on top was wobbly and the decorations were placed in no discernible pattern and slipping on the side. But it was as big and tall as Lian had wanted, they’d made it from scratch all together, and she knew her dad would love it, so it was actually her favorite cake, ever.

.

Roy woke up from his nap to the movement of someone jumping on his bed, but was only really awake when the shouting started. This would’ve sent warning bells off in his brain if it wasn’t something he recognized.

“Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!”

He tentatively cracked one eye open and found Lian’s face directly in front of his, a cheerful grin taking up her entire face. Even though years had passed, seeing her like that still made something in his chest warm.

“Hi, baby.” He said, his voice raspy with sleep. He hadn’t been able to take a nap like that in ages, but he’d never complain about Lian waking him up.

“Get dressed! There’s a surprise for you!” With that, she jumped back off the bed and, after giving him one last look and motioning for him to hurry, scurried out of his room.

Roy couldn’t help being confused, but did as he was told. After he’d thrown on a t-shirt, still wearing the sweatpants he’d been sleeping in, he walked out of the room and could already hear voices – and Lian trying to shush the voices – from the hallway.

He was greeted by a chorus of “Happy Birthday!” when he walked into the room, which only served to confuse him more.

He was excited about seeing Dick, Donna, Garth and Wally all in regular clothes just hanging out in the kitchen, normal like they rarely got to be, but also: what. “My birthday was over a month ago.” He said, and he couldn’t decide whether to smile or frown.

“You were off-world in a League mission then.” Donna explained. “We know you did something with your family when you came back, but Dick and Lian schemed to get us all together.”

“I knew Dick was up to no good when he asked to borrow Lian this afternoon.” Roy’s eyes switched between the both of them, Lian smiling widely and Dick doing his best not to look overly proud of himself. It had been a while since they’d last hung out as a group. “You guys planned this?”

“Yep!” Lian said, popping the p. “We also made a cake!”

Only then he noticed the cake sitting on top of the kitchen counter, fully decorated, several layers and leaning sideways a bit, but clearly made from scratch by everyone in the room. His throat closed up just a little. He must have been getting old for these kinds of things to get him so emotional.

“That looks amazing.” Thankfully his voice didn’t crack, so he maintained some of his dignity. “Thanks, everyone.”

Lian ran up to him to wrap her arms around his torso, and squeezed. Roy automatically placed a hand on top of her head to stroke her hair, and when she let go of him he hoisted her up to carry her, getting a delighted yelp out of her. He was barely able to do that anymore, with her growing quickly at ten years old, but he’d still take any opportunity he got.

“Come on, old man, blow the candles!” Wally cried out from where he was, next to the cake with the lighter in hand.

They all clapped and whooped when he did – after he joked that Lian help him blow them out, like he used to tell her when she was younger, and even though she acted like he was being dumb she couldn’t hide her smile.

He cut a slice for everyone, and they all scattered around his small apartment, throwing themselves on the chairs and the sofa. He was too happy to make any comments about them making a mess, which they were surely going to make.

He sat down on the sofa in between Garth and Dick, with Lian on the floor with her back on his legs. He had barely settled down when Dick huddled closer, their sides pressing against each other. It was a warm, familiar feeling.

He turned to whisper to him, through the bantering that was quickly filling his home. “Thanks for this. I needed it.”

Dick gave him a small smile, his hand coming up to wrap around his arm. “You deserve it. It’s the least I could do.”

He didn’t have the words to reply to that, so instead he returned the smile and quickly placed a kiss on his cheek. He was pleased when he saw a light blush creep up Dick’s face.

“Keep something for the rest of us, Harper!”

“I’ll save some especially for you, West.” He winked at him, Lian made an ‘ew’ sound as was her ten-year-old given right, and everyone dissolved into laughter.

Later, after they were done with firsts, seconds, and thirds, Dick stood up to collect the plates and leave everything in the sink. He came back and sat sideways with his back on the armrest, propping his legs up on the couch, on top of Roy’s lap and extending to poke Garth on the side – Garth, who had somehow ended up upside down, his head dangling off the couch and making faces at Lian.

He looked around the room at his friends. Donna was sat on the floor, her back to Wally who was on the armchair braiding her hair. He was talking animatedly at the same time, telling everyone a story about the twins, managing to gesticulate wildly with his arms without messing up Donna’s hair. The moment had, at some point, transformed into something quieter, the room filled with only the sounds of Wally’s voice and Donna’s soft melodic laughter.

Lian crawled up the couch to fit herself between Roy and Dick. As Roy lazily drew shapes on Dick’s leg through his jeans, he could feel Lian’s breath growing softer until she fell asleep, curled on his side.

When it got late, everyone started trickling out one by one, saying their goodbyes to Roy and hugging him as best as they could without disturbing Lian. He picked her up to carry her to her room – she looked so content in her dreams it made Roy’s heart burst, a bit.

As he was closing the door to her room, taking one last look at her calmly sleeping, he felt arms curling around his waist, a body pressing to his back and sighing contentedly. He turned around in Dick’s arms, leaning down for a kiss that tasted like cake and frosting that was just a little too sweet.

[backtothestart02]

Mixed Drink - 5/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: Courtesy of @travelattwilight‘s payment, here is the next chapter of Mixed Drink. If you can’t figure out what Barry’s job is by the end of this chap, idk what to tell you. ;P

*Many thanks to @valeriemperez for beta’ing. :)

...

Chapter 5 -

Today felt like a fairytale. And while a lot of men he knew – and women in his field – snorted at the concept being a reality, Barry Allen was one of the few that believed. There were such things as love and happy endings and the American Dream. And while he hadn’t yet achieved the latter two, he was fairly certain he was falling into the first.

There was something about this Iris West that just drew him in. Sure, the way they’d met might cause her to raise her voice more than she already did if she were to ever find out. But he didn’t plan on letting her find out. He was very good at keeping secrets, and even better at lying to protect himself and others. The trick was to insert a grain of truth into everything he said and not oversell it. Though if anyone could peel back his layers, it would be the woman in his arms now.

Unfortunately for himself, he knew the glare his boss had been sending for the last ten minutes across the room wasn’t solely due to how brash Iris had been when they’d left his side. One did not bring an unknown into these galas. Spouses, for the few that had them, and those involved in the company in one way or another was it. Because these galas weren’t all fun and games. They were work galas. After some wine and dancing, assignments were to be carried out. It was a disguise.

So, no, his boss was not pleased to see a potential casualty in the mix tonight. And he knew, sooner rather than later, he’d have to resume their conversation and explain himself.

“Where are you?” Iris asked, winding her fingers in the soft hair on his neck, and pulling him out of his own head.

He smiled genuinely and refamiliarized himself with the curve of her body beneath his hands.

“Someplace boring.”

She laughed, the sound making him dizzy.

“Well, stop it. Come back to me,” she urged, closing the distance between them even more somehow.

He groaned softly, his cock twitching in his trousers.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he murmured in her ear, smirking as he felt the shivers ripple down her spine.

“And you of me, I’m sure.” Her breath caught in her throat.

He spun her away from him and back in a swirl that had her eyes alight with surprise and clutching his shoulders tightly.

“You know how to dance.”

“I know how to dance.”

“What else can you do?” she asked, after another turn around the dance floor.

“Get you champagne, maybe?” He stopped suddenly, grinning and steadying her when her heel caught the hem of her dress.

“Champagne sounds nice.”

“I’ll be right back.” He winked, then left her standing breathless amidst the other couples dancing around her.

It was a distraction, a hint to his superior that he hoped he would grasp, and he did. Mere seconds after he’d reached the champagne table, the bark sounded from the other side.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing bringing Iris West here?”

Barry calmly lifted his gaze to his boss’s.

“You told me to bring a date,” he said, taking a sip of champagne.

“I told you to bring a specific date.”

“I’m not married.”

“Allen.”

“And I don’t think it’d be right to give any of my fellow co-workers a bad impression by bringing them to a company event.”

“You’ve slept with half of them.”

“Oops?”

He pinched his forehead.

“I told you to bring-”

“I know, okay? I know. But you thought it was Iris first.”

“Ms. West.”

Barry blinked. “Ms. West. Sure. Whatever.”

“I was wrong. I told you I was wrong and gave you the right target, and you…what? Decided to romance an uninvolved civilian instead?”

“She’s not just a civilian,” he said, annoyed.

“Would you like her to be a casualty, too?”

Barry tensed.

“Get her out of here, Allen. You can start your search for Bethany Walker tomorrow. Get the job done and forget all about Iris West.”

“I can’t just…leave her,” he said, scandalized.

The older man raised his eyebrows, amused.

“I have a plenty of women here who would argue to the contrary.”

Barry brooded.

“It’s for her own good, and you know it. This kind of life doesn’t warrant romance, unless the other party is already a part of it and understands the business. And I know for a fact you won’t be telling her.”

Barry didn’t argue the point, and Mr. Draeger took his silence as confirmation of obedience.

“Good.”

Agitated, but not dismissive, he asked, “What time?”

“One hour.”

Barry’s lips parted.

“That’s all the time I’m giving you to romance her and take her home.”

“She doesn’t have anywhere to go. I have to take her back to my room.”

Kevin was exasperated. “Two then, but you’re really pushing it, Barry. If you’re a second late-”

“I know, I know. Two hours. Got it.”

“Here.” He dug some pills out of his pocket and shoved them into Barry’s hand.

Barry looked at him incredulously.

“In case you need them. This will probably last all night.”

“I’m not going to-”

“I said in case,” he growled. “They’re not going to hurt her. They’re just going to make sure she has no questions come morning.”

Barry didn’t like it, but he knew he was being a bit of hypocrite, since he’d used the sleeping pills on previous one-night stands that got too close to his job scene.

He shoved the pills into his own pocket, then turned with both glasses of champagne in his hands and headed for a very worried looking Iris on the other side of the room, now standing on the sidelines.

“Everything okay?” she asked, watching his gaze and how it flickered away from hers every few seconds.

“Never better,” he said, clinking his glass with hers.

“If I did something to-”

He silenced her with a light kiss to her lips as he gripped her chin between thumb and forefinger.

“What could you do?”

…

About half an hour after his return to her, Barry suggested they leave the gala for the night. Iris found it strange, since he’d made such a big deal of getting her a dress. But they had stayed nearly an hour, and she was getting a little dizzy from dancing and gulping down flutes of champagne. She wanted to suggest they take a moonlit stroll, but even that she worried might end up with him carrying her all the way back to the hotel.

Or taking a taxi.

Yeah, the latter was probably more likely, but she’d rather believe he’d gallantly carry her across the city in his arms like a knight in shining armor.

“Did you have fun?” he asked, after closing the door behind them inside the hotel room.

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“Tired?” he asked, sounding amused.

“You spun me a lot,” she mused, then turned to him with a quirky smirk after kicking off her shoes. “It’s almost like you were trying to take advantage of me.”

“Trying to seduce you by making you dizzy?” He raised his eyebrows. “Oh, yeah, that is classic rule number one. Works every time.”

She frowned. “Every time?”

His heart plummeted. She didn’t know he’d been a player since high school, and it would only ruin the mood to tell her now. Besides, there was something about her that made him not want to sleep with someone else ever again if he could have her.

“There’s only you now.”

She leapt up onto her tip toes, those words the magic ticket, and he lifted her a little so their lips could join fully in a passionate kiss. Before they knew it, they were undressing each other and tumbling onto the bed, getting lost in each other and in the night and in whatever this was between them. And when it was over, Iris could barely keep her eyes open.

“Goo..night, B…rry,” she mumbled, before turning her head to the side and promptly starting to snore.

He chuckled to himself. After he was sure she was indeed sound asleep, he rolled carefully off the bed, put on his tux again, and was out the door before she was any the wiser.

He’d get back to her as soon as he could and cherish the time they had left. Hopefully she’d still be sleeping, so he could get some shut eye himself before they embarked on the day together, short-lived though it would be.

He knew Kevin was right. He had to get back on assignment. He had to find Bethany Walker and do his job. Iris had been easy to seduce because she’d wanted him from the moment he laid eyes on her. Bethany had a husband and three children and, by all appearances, was very happy in her own life.

So happy, in fact, that she’d decided to take up a side gig of thieving and steal some very expensive jewels, carved out inside and containing important government secrets. She was confident and gutsy and a beauty, according to her file, but he knew eventually she’d cave to his seduction the same every woman did.

He was uneasy now though, because suddenly his real number one move didn’t feel so inviting. It felt like cheating on Iris, even though they’d only been together a day – and were they really together? Half a day, maybe. He knew he wouldn’t like hearing about – or worse, seeing – Iris with somebody else after the time they’d shared.

This feelings business was just so damn complicated. He wished he could have compartmentalized her into the same ‘just sex’ category as he had every other woman in his life, save his mother, but she had broken free of it before he even realized.

Bethany wouldn’t be harder because she was a confident, intelligent, clever woman with a family.

She’d be harder because she wasn’t Iris.

“Allen, where the hell are you?” his supervisor gargled in his ear.

Barry adjusted the com and checked his phone.

“I’m right outside and five minutes early. Check your watch.”

The grumbling resumed.

“Just checking.” He paused. “Glad to see you got your priorities straight.”

Barry didn’t correct that. Instead, he pulled open the large glass door and mingled with the other guests until he reached the far side, giving Kevin a nod before ducking behind a curtain. Bethany might be the key to this operation, but there was so much going on surrounding her and the organization she worked for. The front as a charity was bullshit and sent money not only into Bethany’s pocket, but to all her superiors and partners in crime. There was more than one person to take hostage, interrogate, and inevitably turn over to the higher-up authorities. Tonight could’ve been all of the necessary pieces, which was why Barry’s boss was so pissed that it wouldn’t be.

That would be a worry for another day, though.

Several agents lined up behind him and another bunch were across the floor in a parallel location. Still more were beneath the floors where a meeting was being held, and the rest remained in the ballroom as a disguise, mere partygoers, sponsors, and the like. No one was the wiser to the guns strapped to their thighs and snug in their tuxedo jackets.

3…2…1

…

Iris woke up around midnight, groggy, yawning, and needing to throw up. She ran to the bathroom just in time, hurling the champagne and hors d’oeuvres she’d consumed earlier in the evening. For some reason, she expected Barry to suddenly be up, woken by the sound of her yacking, and come running to her aid. She was too tired to look and see where he was – if he really was that sound of a sleeper – or if he thought she didn’t need the extra assistance. Ass.

But when she finally summoned enough strength to stand to her feet, gulp down water from the sink to clear her throat and remove the awful taste of vomit, and return to the bed, she saw there was no trace of Barry Allen.

A cold chill ran down her spine. She told herself not to overreact, that he wouldn’t ditch her while she was sleeping. But no excuse was coming to her, and her head was pounding.

Unable to think clearly, Iris collapsed back on the bed and fell promptly asleep. Maybe it was just all a bad dream.

Or maybe Barry would have some explaining to do in the morning.

...

*Also posted on AO3 and FFnet.

[vegetacide]

Cloak and Dagger

Chapter 1 - Sorely Coping

Characters:  Virgil/Kayo,  Gordon/implied Lady P

Vegetable notes:  Throwing this up with no beta.. so any mistakes are purely mine. Anything blatant let me know. ..I shouldn’t be allowed to write without supervision as I may have broken someone.... oops.  

TY for @gumnut-logic for all her encouragement! 

Intro can be found here or here. I write under Othersider on FF.net and Vegetacide on Ao3

Enjoy :) 

8-8-8

Chapter 1  (Several weeks earlier) Sorely Coping

Kayo stepped into the dimly lit living space of the Tracy Villa, her eyes scanning around the large, open space. Her mind filing and sorted observational details at random in her quick, critical mind.  Always assessing.   

The blast proof balcony doors were open fully on their anti-friction track ever ready to be engaged with One’s launch sequence to protect the interior of the fine living space.  The large opening allowing the evening breeze to carrying in the pleasant scent of night blooming jasmine and the salty brine of the South Pacific into the dwelling. 

From where she stood,  Keyo could see the low, ambient light cast from a muted holo-vid in the recessed lounge reflecting off the slowly evaporating puddles on the veranda.  The dark mass of storm clouds that had off loaded their watery burden having passed over the island earlier in the evening and now refuelling for it Eastern flight across the ocean.  The black obscurity of it only now just letting the glow of the fully risen moon shine through.  

The storm had been short-lived and turbulent but the well engineered structure tucked amongst the rocky, volcanic stack had withstood many a test spewed forth by Terra Mater and this one like all the others prior would dissipate and be forgotten. The brief oppressiveness of humidity that weighted the atmosphere already beginning to lessen in the currents of cooler air pushing in from the West.  By morning the island would be returned to its normal state of tranquil beauty. 

The familiar  sound of Gordon doing late night laps in the pool drifting up from below caused Kayo to check the time.  It was rather late for the athlete to be doing circuits though not completely unheard of. Even recovering from his near fatal crash in Four, they were hard pressed to try and keep him out of the pool once his casts had been removed. The only visible remnants of which was a knee brace that he grudgingly wore and some biodegradable stitches.

Kayo was aware that the aquatic expert’s physio was progressing well but even so it would be a while before he was fit for active rotation. The steady pace of him powering through the water was proof that he was bound and determined to speed that process up. Pursing her lips though, Kayo made a mental note to make sure the fish wasn’t over doing it to his detriment. Last thing they needed was an irate Lady Penelope.  

Pulling her mind back from her ruminations, she stowed the thoughts aware for later. One of her other tasks on the island was to aid with the physical condition or its inhabitants. Sorting out appropriate activities that were low impact enough for an injury during an operatives recovery was part of that.   It was something she was going to have to work with Gordon.  The Fish knew his body and what he could tolerate better then anyone through so she’d have to take her cues from him.   

Taking a breath, she let the other island sounds envelop her as her tired frame got reacquainted with the peace of paradise. The  chirping rhythm of the islands’ resident cicadas and the distant crash of the storm surge having an instant lolling effect better than any form of mediation she’d ever tried.  

After a moment Kayo registered the faint, tinny sound of music and she turned her head to zero in on its origins.  Her brows dipping down as on quiet, leather soled feet she crept across the wood flooring.

Approaching the lowered circular arrangement of seats, her lips quirked as a solitary, sprawled figure came into view. One thick leg clad in soft, dove grey sweats hung off an arm rest,  his socked foot dangling on the too short couch. His familiar plaid flannel riding up his solid torso, a hint of dark hair peeking out and disappearing into the low slung waist band. Watching his  broad, muscular chest rising evenly in sleep brought a soft smile to Kayo’s lips 

Stepping into the recessed lounge, she popped the hidden closures of her nomex (1) flight jacket and pulled the fitted material from her shoulders. Shivering slightly as the night air met the skin left exposed by the singlet underneath. Jacket tossed on the circular table, she knelt on the strip of flooring adjacent to her other half.  Virgil was well known for sleeping like the dead when he was tired, and now was no exception.  He worked too hard and his thickly, muscled body was proof of that.  

She frowned as she took in the dark, smudges below his eyes, the result of the call out the day prior no doubt.  Virgil’s exhaustion was evident in his haphazard, supine posture. The little she had garnered from John on her return flight to the island inferred it had not been an easy rescue and by the looks of things, it hadn’t.  

Reluctantly reaching out, Kayo plucked out a small, silver earbud,  the tinny sound becoming slightly more audible with its release.  He couldn’t stay here, the regret for the decision would be bear like in the morning when the early risers in the house invaded the quiet space and Kayo had grown rather fond of her adopted family.   

“Virgil…”  She called softly, leaning in to brush her lips across his stubbled jaw line.  “Babe, you can’t spend the night here.”  Fingers ghosted across his brow, her own furrowed at the light sheen of perspiration that greeted her fingers.  It wasn’t that warm in the villa. 

Her bear was a difficult one to rouse, but experience taught her the soft approach was the best course with him.  Less chance of growling that way. 

Rubbing a hand in a careful circle over the thick pads of his pecs, her encouragement to wakefulness continued  “Come on, love.” 

As the flannel of his shirt caught up slightly her focus shifted. Her deft fingers made short work of of the fastened buttons and she carefully pulled one side back shaking her head in disapproval.

“Shit, what did you do to yourself this time?” Her words slipped out on a sigh of frustration.  Virgil’s broad chest was swathed in gauze, the bruising already apparent despite the loose binding that circled his chest.  One side was heavily padded with packing and an obvious slash of red was a stark contrast to the clinical white. 

“I’m OK.”

Breath catching,  Kayo looked up at the gruff voice and was greeted by a  hooded, tourmaline gaze. Brow arching is disbelief Kayo sat back on her haunches the ‘Ya, right. Try that again’  blatant in her expression. 

Stretching, he was careful to catch his wince of discomforted behind a rough swip of his hand over his face.  Hiding behind the act of rubbing the fog of sleep away, he came to the conclusion that it was easier to capitulate to her silent demand than to continue his charade of denial. That, and he hated worrying her.  

“Bruising,  couple cracked ribs, minor laceration. A round of antibiotics chased with some NSAIDS (2) and icing.”  Shifting he sat up and settled his feet on the floor on either side of her, catching her hands in his as she moved to take a closer look at his injury. 

“I’ll be back up in the air in a couple weeks.”  He brought her fingers up and brushed her knuckles with his lips.  Her eyes narrowing at the distraction, she’d seen his wince of pain and even now as she watched his arm slipped around his torso to brace against his ribs.  

Shaking her head she resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him. He knew as well as she, more so even with his extensive medical knowledge that cracked ribs were not something that just healed overnight. 

Stealing her hand back from him, she cupped his cheek and frown at his tired expression. Her scowl softening as he turned into the contact and placed a kiss on her palm. “What happened?” 

Virgil sighed,  tucking loose strands of her hair off her face. “Water drop too close the fire break.” He didn’t supply that the 4000 gallons of water he’d been caught up in had sent him on a jolly trip down a ravine. A sharp dip in the landscape where he was promptly introduced to previously toppled, denuded Douglas fir.   The evidence of that meeting spoke for itself in his beaten body so there was no need to waste the energy vocalizing it..

“Ouch”

“Yup,  that about sums it up.”

“I bet Scott had some choice words for that.”  Kayo supplied as she leaned up and into him, her arms settling around his neck.

“There are some Forestry personnel seriously considering career changes at the moment.” Here he drew her in and kissed her forehead. “That’s once they find a why to extract the size elevens out of their posteriors.”

Kayo winced at that pleasant picture.  Scott angry could be an impressive thing to behold. Scared for his brother and royal pissed off,  that was ‘End of Days’ petrifying. As in, you better hope the world explodes and your well and truly dusted before big brother sets his chilly sights on you.

“Speaking of ...where is he?” Her peridot green scanning around.  Even at this hour, the commander of iR and acting president a TI would usually be found at his father’s desk plugging away at some random report or cost analysis what-not. 

Virgil dragged in a breath, held it a moment and let it out on a slow exhale.  Dual purpose to expand his sore rib cage fully and to gather his scattered thoughts accomplished. 

“Bed”

“No way,  at this hour?”

The mmhmm that followed that was loaded. “I convinced him, through no small amount of grief and threat of physical pain, that should he not get some rack time I would tranq’ his ass.” Kayo was impressed,  getting the great Scott Tracy to concede to something as logical as sleep was no simple task.  It was Virgil though that had requested it but still.. would have been easier to convince John out of orbit…

A sleep tousled head nodded.  “He had a raging tension headache and was sniping at everything with a pulse.”

Kayo had an ‘ah ha’ moment, “That explains why Grandma has fled the island.”  Tracy 1 had been curiously missing from the hanger and there had been no mention of the family Matriarch having any mainland plans. 

“I would have tagged along but someone had to be here to keep the island afloat.”  Leaning back against the couch with a groan he dragged her with him.  She acquiesced and settling down beside him, tucked her legs up under herself.  “That and I wanted to warn you that Scottzilla was in residence.”

She chuckled at this and leaning in caught his lips with her own by way of thanks. “Well, my report will hold until he unhulks...dehulks..?”  She blinked as she thought on this.  

Virgil chuckled softly her ear,  his scruff scratching against the sensitive skin reminding her that her lover was a little worse for wear and in dire need of a proper bed and a solid 8 hours horizontal. FAA regulation dictated that duration of sleep as a minimum between long haul flights and though they couldn’t always abide by the rules in this regard - people needing rescuing didn’t prescribe to a schedule - they did their best to at least try to.  

Unsanctioned as they were they still had keep the GDF happy. Since their Godmother knew where the island was located, Virgil was fairly certain she would ground their asses if there was any outward signs of blatant disrespect for the rules that governed the rest of the planet’s aviation stock.  So to keep their tickets they made sure to toe the line between what was regulation and what was not. 

Taking a moment to enjoy the relative silence the night brought with it, Kayo allowed her head to list to the side and settle on Virgil’s strong, solid shoulder.   Hearing the deep intake of air through his chest as he sighed, Kayo glanced up at his profile.  

“It’s been a shit 48 hours.” 

Brow dropping, Kayo turned his face towards hers.   Looking into his tired face, her thumbing brushing back and forth across his cheek.  “Tell me.” She prompted gently.  

Virgil closed tired eyes and winced. Pain apparent in his pinched lines between his dark brows. “Firefly pod had a drive sprocket failure...must of been a micro fissure in the alloy that didn’t get picked up on its recent maintenance inspection.  Slipped a tread and we missed an evac window when the wind suddenly shifted.” 

“Equipment failures aren’t unheard of even for us. It happens..”

“It’s my job, Tawny.” 

“Virgil..”

“There was a logging crew up the backside of Butlers Peak....” Virgil started and stalled out.  Forcing himself up to his feet with a grunt as his pent up emotions threatening to explode all over the room, he started to pace. Hands dragging angrily through his already disheveled hair.

A grimace passed over Kayo’s features.  It was never easy to lose a rescue but casualties happened in their line of work.  There was just no way to save them all.  This though, was different.   Losing a person due to circumstances out of their control was one thing. Losing someone due to something they could prevent was another thing entirely  

“I’m sorry,”  It was the only thing she could think of to say.  “Have you spoken to Scott about this?” 

The one shouldered shrug she got by way or response not really providing the answer she was looking for.   John had warned her just prior to landing that things were a bit tense, he just hadn’t elaborate on how much.  His over-professional manner and quick dismissal should have been enough of a hint.  John tended to mask himself behind professionalism and distance when he was stressed.

Scott and Virgil had clearly had words on the topic..a lot of good that had accomplished by the looks of things.. and she was fairly certain Johnny could have heard it from 22,000 kilometers away. Their Grandmother must have put some sort of cease fire into effect and was the likely reason she had vacated the island.  The space provided by her absence meant to allow the two brothers to sort things out without fear of her intervening if things were to escalate. 

Kayo watched him pace around the table knowing that in his current frame of mind there was no guarantee anything she said was going to help. For one, Virgil needed to be open to hearing her first. For another, he was just done - physically, mentally and emotionally.  What he really required was time and a piece of furniture better suited for sleep other than the couch   

Bringing his trek around the coffee table and the still muted holo-vid to an abrupt stop, Virgil dropped his head. He was turned away from her,  his shoulders hunched with discomfort and exhaustion.  His previous efforts to physically exorcise whatever storm was churning in his head too much for what his usually robust frame could currently handle.  

Swaying had Kayo on her feet and at his side in a blink, her lean strength steadying him.  “You need to be off your feet. Preferably sleeping.”  

“Ow..”  He said through gritted teeth.  

“You idiot,” Came Kayo’s chiding remark.  Facing him she peaked up at him through the tangle of his limp hair, his forehead coming to rest against hers. 

Drawing in a breath, Kayo picked up on clinical scent of antiseptic and the faint, acridness of wood smoke.   It spoke volumes to her that the remnants of the day still clung to him. Like the morose set of his mind needed a fetid spectre so it wouldn’t be easily forgotten.  Not like that would  happen with any haste, anytime soon.

The rock of her adopted family, felt things deeply and she knew this well.  The calm surface of his demeanor was but a thin curtain to the depth of his feelings. The emotional scars he carried ran deep and were kept private for the sake of his brothers.  A front in place that he needed to maintain so he could help keep his family on an even keel. 

As close as Virgil was to Scott, Kayo was the one person privy to everything that lay beyond it.  Providing what comfort she could when he needed it and even sometimes when he refused to accept it.  Even now as she wove her fingers through the inky black of his hair, she could feel the tension in his frame.  Pained as he was from injury, the tightness in his shoulders was not likely to depart until he fought his way tooth and nail back to his center. 

For now though, Kayo would stand guard. 

8-8-8

Gordon paused at the door to his older brothers set of rooms and knocked lightly. Surprised but really not all that shocked when the door slid open and Kayo was standing on the other side.  Hair hanging in loose waves around her shoulders,  the dark chestnut strands catching the subdued light from the hallway in halo of hickey. 

Garbed in an over-sized Denver Tech shirt that he was pretty sure belonged to his brother, he blinked and tried his best to school his emotive features. The healing aquanaut had only recently lost his walking cast and the last thing he wanted to do was set Tanusha Kyrano on irritation warpath.  

Glancing into the room at her back,  Kayo stepped out into the fall and with arms crossed leaked against the door jam, her brow raised in question.  If looks could kill Gordon was pretty sure he would be a tiny pile of sand at her feet so he resisted the smart ass comment that was brewing on his tongue. 

“Yes, Gordon?,”  she said with a bored expression, adjusting the crew neck collar of the faded, maroon shirt as it slipped to one side off her shoulder.  The BEST, worst kept secret on the island, his brother’s relationship with the security expert. Gordon had always been curious on how that had started but hadn’t wanted to intrude on the elder’s privacy.   For all of Virgil’s attention to the going-ons in his siblings’ lives, he was extremely private about his own. A thought that perhaps that was why his adoptive sister was drawn to him came floating through his mind. 

Stowing that epiphany away for later,  Gordon gave himself a shake.  “Oh.. uh, I brought this up.” Holding a cold gel pack out and a soft hand towel. “Figured he could use it. I know how much he hates to admit to discomfort and this is better than Grandma setting her sights on him… I should know.”  His stomach was still recuperating from that attention. 

Taking the offerings, a soft smile lit Kayo’s face.  “I’ll make sure he uses it”  

“I’m sure you will”  Turning to head off to his own room for the night,  he stopped. “How’s he doing?”  

Gordon was only too aware that if he asked Virgil himself, his brothers would be less than forthcoming. Virgil despised worrying the others and if anyone had the inside scoop, it was the slender woman standing in front of him.

“Tired. Sore. Exhausted.”  In more ways than one. “He’ll be alright.”  

Gordon gave a nod, he knew what that was like...they all did. 

“‘I’ll, uh...leave you to it then.”  He remarked and turned to leave.  

“Gordon?”  Her quiet voice drifted out to his retreating back and he did an about face, walking backwards down the hallway. “Take care”  Seeing her gaze drop to the knee he was favouring, he knew he was busted for his late night swimming marathon.  Before he could respond though, she ghosted back into the dark room and the door shut with a gentle click. 

TBC

Notes:

(1) Nomex - fire retardant, synthetic fabric

(2) NSAIDS - smart way of saying Non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs

NEXT CHAPTER

[starspangledbanner27]

**CHAPTER UPDATE - Chapter 1 posted**

Fandom: Saving Mr. Banks (AU)

Description: AU take on the movie, exploring what might have happened if the author of the Mary Poppins books had been someone very different from P. L. Travers.  For Carrie Schultz, the chance to collaborate with Walt Disney Studios to bring Mary Poppins from the page to the screen is a dream come true.  However, matters grow complicated when animated penguins prove to be a point of contention, a friendly working relationship turns into more than she bargained for, and Carrie struggles to prevent Walt’s team from discovering her own hidden afflictions. 

Characters: Carolina “Carrie” Schultz (OC), Don DaGradi, Walt Disney, Richard M. Sherman, Robert B. Sherman, Ralph

Rating: T

Genre: Drama/Romance

Language: English

Read on Fanfiction.net, AO3, Wattpad, or below.

To Laura, Amber, Brittany, and Dr. Riley: Thank you so much for beta-reading my work and providing constructive feedback.  This story would not be what it is without your advice and encouragement.

To my mom: Thank you for always being there for me.  Posting my work was a big step, and I am immensely grateful for your loving support.

A/N: Readers, please note that as this story is an AU, the first two chapters will focus entirely on OCs.  That being said, if you as a reader are like me and prefer to jump straight to the parts involving canon characters, I will direct you to the middle of Chapter 3 (coming soon), in which my main OC meets Ralph at the airport.  Either way, I hope you enjoy the story and, of course, leave reviews! :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Saving Mr. Banks, Mary Poppins, or any of the characters from those two movies.

Chapter 1

I am seated on a bench in the garden with a pencil held idle in my hand and my notebook lying on my lap, my eyes closed and my face turned upward to the summer sky.  A smile curves my lips as a soft breeze comes up out of the west to dance through my hair.  Somehow this all seems strangely familiar, yet I can't put my finger on why.

The breeze flutters around for half a minute, tickling my ear and stroking my hair, before leaving a parting kiss on my cheek and flying off toward the east.  But no, wait—its farewell was only a playful trick; it has now doubled back around to greet me once more . . . only this time, instead of caressing me gently, it bites my nose and pinches my ears, twirling my hair into a tangle as it careens westward.  And then, almost as soon as it returns, it is gone. 

Strange, I muse.  How odd for a steady west wind to suddenly stop like that and return from the east.  Wind's in the east . . . I can't help smiling to myself as I gaze up at the clouds, half expecting a certain British nanny to come floating down out of them carrying a carpet-bag and a parasol.  But my thoughts are interrupted by a sharp rapping noise. 

Knock-knock-knock!

I glance around, perplexed as to the source of the sound until at last I glimpse a woodpecker hammering away at a nearby tree.  I watch him with an inexplicable feeling that he doesn't belong here—that I have been here in this exact moment before, and he hasn't. 

Knock-knock-knock!

His persistent tapping disturbs me.  I wish he would stop. 

Knock-knock-knock!

“Shoo!” I cry; but he carries on with his task, unperturbed and undistracted. 

Knock-knock-knock! 

I shout at him and wave my arms wildly, but he ignores me. 

Knock-knock-knock!

The noise is exasperating.  I press my hands over my ears, but it remains as loud and clear as ever.  Why will he not cease?!  Why can I still hear it?!  Why is there no escape?!

Knock-knock-knock!

Knock-knock-knock!

Knock-knock-knock . . .

Knock-knock-knock!

I ascended out of dreamland long enough to wonder who was at the door, then promptly decided I was too tired to care.  Just as I was drifting back to sleep, my sister burst into my bedroom.  “Rise and shine, Carrie!”

“Mmph . . . what's going on?” I mumbled.

She threw the curtains open before coming over to kneel beside my bed.  “Today's the day, sis.  If you don't get up, you'll miss your plane.”

“What plane?”

“You’re going to Los Angeles, remember?”

At that moment it all came back to me—my book, Mary Poppins, Disney—and I sat up frantically, throwing the covers off.  “Oh my gosh, I forgot! What time is it?!”  I pressed my hand to my forehead, partly in panic and partly because the too-swift motion had given me a throbbing headache. 

“Shh . . . relax, Carrie.  It's only eight o'clock; you have plenty of time.  But you need to get up and get ready now.”

I nodded.  “Okay.”  I slid forward to the edge of the bed and waited, gathering my strength.  My sister watched for several minutes; and finally, when I made no move to stand up, she laid her hand on my back.

“Carrie . . . do you need help?”

“Maybe just a little,” I said without meeting her eyes.  I hated asking for help to complete such a simple task; yet at that moment I just didn't have the strength in me.  Fortunately, she understood; and without another word, she wrapped her arm around my waist and supported me as I dragged myself to my feet.  “Thank you,” I whispered. 

“What are sisters for?” she replied with a grin that somewhat alleviated my embarrassment. 

She stayed there holding me up long enough to let me find my balance.  At last I managed to take a few shaky steps over to my dresser and lean against it as I pulled open the door to my closet.  She stood there watching me for several moments, and finally she spoke again. 

“Are you okay now if I leave the room so you can get changed?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“All right.  I'll be out here if you need anything.”  Just as she was opening the door to go out, she paused and turned back to me.  “Carrie . . . are you sure you still want to do this?  Because you know in Los Angeles I won't be there to help you out of bed.”

Part of me resented her for saying that.  I'm not an invalid yet! I wanted to scream.  But deep down, I knew she was right.  I sighed deeply.  “I'll make it somehow.  I have to do this, Sam.  Otherwise I'll never get the chance.  Anyway, it's just the first few minutes of the day that are always the hardest; once I get going, it's not so bad.”

She nodded.  “Yeah, okay.  I'm going to head downstairs and make breakfast.”  But once again she paused and looked at me with soulful eyes.  “I love you, sis.”

“Love you too,” I replied, trying and failing to muster a carefree smile.  I turned away lest she see the tears in my eyes; and behind me I heard the door close as she exited, leaving me alone.  Drawing a shaky breath, I chose a dress from the closet and changed out of my nightgown, noticing with dismay that my body was going through the motions a little more slowly than yesterday or the day before. 

As I slipped my dress on over my head, I could hear the clanking of pots and pans down in the kitchen as Sam cooked.  The noise made something tickle at the edge of my mind—clanking . . . banging . . . knocking.  The woodpecker.  The dream.

That dream—it haunted me at least three times a week.  I couldn’t escape.  The sequence was always the same . . . except this time it had been interrupted by that blasted bird, which I now realized had sprung up as a dream-world manifestation of an actual sound—my sister's knocking on my door to wake me up.  I paused for a moment, considering that I ought to be thankful, for I knew what would have happened in the dream if I hadn't woken up.  Always the same, exactly as it had been on that first day . . .

No—I would not think about it, not on a day like this.  Today, of all days, I should be happy.  I am going to Los Angeles . . . the very thought sent a surge of energy through me, and I scurried off to the bathroom to finish getting ready. 

~~~~~~

Thirty minutes later, I descended the stairs, the smell of breakfast greeting me as I entered the main part of the house.  I stepped into the kitchen just as my sister, who was facing the sink, called out loudly, “Carrie! Are you almost ready?!”

“Hey, Sam,” I replied, amused.  She whirled around in surprise. 

“Carrie! I thought you were still upstairs!  Oh, gosh, I must have blown your ears out.”

“Well, at least they're still attached,” I bantered, but for once she didn't laugh.  Instead, she came over and wrapped her arms around me. 

“I'm sorry,” she said quietly, her voice betraying that she was close to tears.  I pulled away, unable to bear it. 

“Sam, since when are you so concerned about my eardrums?” I teased. 

“I'm sorry, it's just . . . I don't want to cause you any more pain than you're already . . .”

“It’s okay, sis, nothing to worry about.”

“But—”

“Sam, please.  You promised you wouldn’t do this, remember?  I told you, I’m fine.”

She nodded, turning back to the counter to wipe her eyes.  “Well, anyway, breakfast's up.”

“Ooh, yum!” I exclaimed, eager to change the subject.  “What's on the menu this morning?”

“Bacon and pancakes,” she replied.  Her voice was still quiet and sad, but I could tell she was trying to conceal it for my sake.  “Have a seat at the table, and I'll bring it in.”

“Well, let me help.”

“It's okay, I've got this.  You go sit down.”

“Sam . . .”

“You need to focus on getting ready, Carrie,” she said firmly, looking me in the eye, and I knew better than to argue. With a sigh of resignation, I headed into the dining room. 

The first thing I noticed as I sat down was that Sam's husband, who always joined us for breakfast, was missing.  “Sam,” I called, “where's James?”

“Oh, I sent him outside to check on the car,” she explained, bustling into the room with a plate of steaming pancakes and bacon. 

“What's wrong with the car?” I asked as she set the plate down in front of me. 

“Nothing, as far as I know,” she replied, “but we can't have you being late to the airport because of car trouble.”

I stared at her.  “It's a twenty-minute drive to the airport, and your car is in perfect condition.  What's there to worry about?”

“I'm not taking any chances, Carrie.  This is your special day, and I won't let anything ruin it.”   With that, she marched off to the kitchen, chin held high.  Once she left the room, I chuckled to myself and said a quick blessing before beginning to eat. 

Just then, I heard the front door open.  “Hey, honey, I'm all done!” James called as he shut the door behind him.  From where I sat looking through the doorway, I could see him enter the kitchen and lean against the wall, inhaling deeply.  “Mmm, what's for breakfast?”

“Pancakes and bacon,” she replied.  “How's the car looking?”

“Clean and healthy as always, just like I told you it would be,” he reassured her. 

“The tank is full?”

“Yep.”

“You changed the oil?”

“Already did that yesterday.”

“And you checked everything else?”

“Yes, yes, and yes.”  He moved to stand behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders.  “Sweet Samantha, haven't you learned by now to trust your husband?”

She turned to face him.  “A better question is, haven't you learned by now to humor your wife?”

He laughed.  “Touché.”  They stood there grinning at each other for several moments before he leaned in to kiss her, at which point I decided to remind them of my presence.  

“A-he-hem!”  I peered through the doorway at them.  “Guys, I hate to interrupt, but we do have to be at the airport in an hour.”

They pulled apart and looked over at me sheepishly.  “Sorry, sis,” Sam giggled. 

I sighed and shook my head in mock exasperation; but truly, I was happy for them.  They had something special, something I had always dreamt of . . . and something fate had chosen to deny me.  I felt a little twinge of bitterness at the last thought, but I quickly suppressed it.  It’s not their fault, I reminded myself.  It’s not anyone’s fault.

Before I could dwell any longer on this train of thought, James entered the dining room with a full plate for himself and one for Sam.  “So, Carrie, are you excited to spend three weeks in Los Angeles?” he asked as he set them on the table. 

“Excited?  Yes . . .” 

Detecting my slight hesitation, James caught my eye and smiled understandingly.  “Nervous?”

“A little,” I admitted. 

Sam walked through the doorway just in time to catch the end of our conversation.  “What are you nervous about, Carrie?” she asked, laying her hand on my shoulder.

I took a moment to swallow my bite of bacon before answering.  “Well, meeting Walt Disney, for one thing.  That man’s a walking legend, and I’m just . . . me.”  A thirty-year-old author from Cedar Rapids, Iowa, flying halfway across the country to act as consultant for a movie adaptation of my book.

“So?” James asked through a mouthful of pancake. 

Sam shot him one of her “you men can be so insensitive” looks before turning back to me. “Oh, Carrie, I'm sure you have nothing to worry about as far as that goes.  Remember, underneath all that fame, he's just another human.  Don't let yourself be intimidated.”

I gave a half-smile, and she patted my back encouragingly before sitting down to eat.  Easier said than done, I thought in regard to her advice.  I only prayed everything would go smoothly; for if it didn’t, I doubted I’d have what it took to face down the Mickey Mouse mogul himself.  

The three of us finished breakfast with time to spare; and while Sam cleared the table, James headed upstairs and brought down my suitcase and carry-on bag to load in the car.  I offered to help with the dishes, but Sam wouldn't hear of it; so instead I went up to fetch my purse and make one last trip to the bathroom.

After washing my hands, I leaned against the sink for a few minutes, staring into the mirror. There I was, about to spend three weeks in Los Angeles helping make my book into a movie, something many authors only dream of; and at that moment, the only thought in my head was—am I up to this?  The Carrie in the mirror stared back at me, her eyes full of doubts and questions; but before I could give either of us a definitive answer, I heard Sam call from the bottom of the stairs.  “Carrie! You ready to go?!”

Taking a deep breath, I stood up straight and squared my shoulders.  “Coming!” I replied; and without further hesitation, I grabbed my purse and headed downstairs.

Tag list… let me know if you want to be added or removed!   @iwillalwaysreturm | @writings-of-a-narwhal | @24hourshipping

[ofmoonlight-androses]

Mystery Lover (M)

Pairing: Lee Taemin/Reader

rating: M for implied smut

Genre: Prince Taemin! AU

Word Count: 1,900

You were his for mere moments at a time. Minutes, hours carved out in the night time, his eyes only able to behold you in moonlight filtered through silk curtains. He never had enough, you were always gone so soon- far too soon.

He had to get his fill of you, no matter how short the time. His hands would explore every inch, memorizing every curve, every dip, every flawed millimeter of skin until he could feel the topography of your spine even when you were gone. Every sound you made, no matter how small, he stored in the deepest recesses of his mind, drawing them from you over and over until the only sounds left were your labored breaths. And in the time period between, where you lay under the blankets with your head tucked under his chin, he savored every last second.

Your lungs would heave a sigh, and he knew that he had to be alone again. The space you filled would grow cold, his last fleeting memory of you clinging to his pillows in the addictive scent of your perfume.

No matter how badly he wanted it, you could never be his. A prince and the castle servant- it was impossible. Taemin had known that it could only end one way, from the moment he caught your eyes in the golden halls to the first time he swore he loved you against your lips.

If anyone found out, you would be hanged, and he would be proclaimed the bastard king, exiled from the castle and forced to live his days in the shame of loving someone without a pedigree. Though, sometimes he would recall the story his mother would tell him as a child; the story of how she went to a village in an attempt to escape royalty for a night, only to fall in love with a penniless farmer. How the king had almost been a common man. He still never knew the ending.

He liked to imagine that he was born from love instead of politics. He had always been hopeful and hardworking, his time filled with princely duties and dreaming of you next to him on the throne, the pet name ‘princess’ falling off his tongue every moment he was alone with you. Alas, no matter how hard he hoped, the image of a world without you plagued his dreams, and the nights where the bed was warm and you were pressed to his side, he would beg you to stay.

Just until I fall asleep, he would whisper against your jaw, arms locked tight around you, please

It was as if he thought you could refuse a request. You knew it hurt him to leave- it felt like a cattle brand against your tongue to pull away and feel his longing eyes burning into your back. And it stung more to pretend not to know him as you did, to pass him in the palace corridors with your eyes locking on the ground and his not sparing you a single glance. The times when the hallways echoed with only your footsteps, he would pull you to his chest and leave a chaste kiss on your forehead before pulling away, striding on as if nothing had occurred while you were left to deal with the fire in your cheeks.

It would never be enough.

The pretending hurt, the leaving hurt, and the apologies murmured against skin only soothed the pain in the moments where the charade was gone.

You knew, one day, a princess would come along. A regal thing, with a gown of silk and gold dripping from her words. Your prince would be taken, and you would fall into the background, a simple maid once again with only fond memories of Taemin.

But for now, under the cover of the moon and the silk blankets of his bed, you could pretend that one day, you could be his princess, just in the small moments where he could afford the freedom to treat you like one.

~~

You made a mistake. A horrible, catastrophic, apocalyptic mistake.

You had fallen asleep.

The whole castle slept at night, save for the guards at major entrance ways. The kingdom was in a time of peace; they didn’t need to guard every door. At night, the dance between you and the prince was sacred, safe.

The sunrise was the most terrifying thing you could have woken up to. Your dorm in the servant’s quarters bore tiny windows that faced the west; you were woken only by the birds singing outside when the sun had grown warm enough to stir them.

But you were woken by golden rays of pure light falling upon your bare shoulders, the warmth of a body flush against your skin. Taemin was still asleep. You had watched him fall asleep, as you always did after the night when he spilled every fear to you. You usually only stayed until he wouldn’t notice you leave, but you had been selfish, foolish- you had closed your eyes for just a moment.

It seemed as if your life only mattered in small moments.

You shot up straight, the prince’s arm falling from its place on your shoulders, joining the pool of blankets on your hips. A small noise of complaint sounded from him, small and rough with sleep as he attempted to pull you closer.

It was the sound of your sniffles that woke him. It felt like ice poured down his spine; the staccato of your breaths and the hiccups shaking your shoulders as you began to cry, hot tears wiped away by his thumbs replaced within seconds as you pressed your hand over your mouth.

You were done for.

They’d kill you. You’d tainted their beloved prince, the crown jewel of the royal family, the kingdom’s pride- you’d breathed in his air and he had been exposed to yours.

Your poor, poverty stricken history had practically left dirt on his skin where you touched him.

And so, you cried. Tears welled in his eyes because no matter how hard he tried to calm you, to speak softly and tell you it was all okay, you were still crying and shaking. His princess, falling apart because you didn’t leave before the sun arrived.

It took nearly an hour for you to calm down. An hour of his fingers tracing your spine, palms pressing against your cheeks, kisses pressed to your forehead and tears falling from your lovely prince’s eyes.

You collected yourself, he pulled your clothes over your head, and hugged you tight, promising that everything would turn out okay. That he would protect you, that he wouldn’t let anyone touch you, that you could still be with him.

A servant of your status had no business being near his room, let alone in it. Only hours later, the castle was alive and ringing with the rumors of the prince’s mistress, and you hid in the servant’s dorms, a pillow over your head as you fought the image of a noose from your mind.

Adultery. Adultery between a lowly servant who was barely good enough to touch the dust in the palace air and the kingdom’s pristine, perfect prince. You would be dead by morning, but you did your best to believe his promise, no matter how empty it seemed.

When the last rays of sunlight fell through the small windows of your room, a messenger knocked on your door, saying that the prince wished to speak with you. There was a tone in the man’s voice, a potent mixture of confusion and disgust, that left the taste of blood on your tongue. You looked at the floor, following your own feet across the ivory tile all the way to the royal chambers. With shaking hands, you knocked quietly on the towering oak doors, swallowing the lump in your throat and blinking away the sting of salt in your eyes.

A second barely past before the doors swung open, and you were pulled by the arm inside, embraced in a crushing hug. Taemin smiled against your shoulder- you could feel the upwards curve of his lips against your sleeve, but you didn’t need to feel it to know. Laughter bubbled from his chest, the kind you only heard rarely, as he lifted you from the floor by your waist, spinning you until the corridor was nothing more than a blur of red and gold.

“My princess, my princess,” he sang, setting your unsteady feet back on the ground as kisses were peppered across your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your eyelids. You could only stare up at him in confusion, a few stray tears rolling down your cheeks. He wiped them away, beaming at you, letting his forehead rest against yours, “I promised you, didn’t I? I promised it would be alright.”

“I-it isn’t...isn’t it?” your voice shook.

“I never told you the story of my mother, did I?” he answered softly, nuzzling his nose lovingly against your cheek as you shook your head.

And so, he told you the story of a princess who couldn’t bear the thought of marrying someone for such a shallow reason such as money or land, who watched the city lanterns flicker on when the sun set, envying the rivers of people filling the streets with laughter and life. How the princess, with the help of the servants, escaped to the town, only to meet a man who could barely string a sentence together around her. How for the first time, all her royal training to be charismatic and charming fell away as a single, common man stole all the words from her head. How she returned night and night again, if only to meet him for an hour or less before she had to return to the cold palace.

How, when a prince came along, his father waving money for her hand, she begged the prince to help her. And how the prince convinced his father to find another princess so that the first man without royal blood could sit on the throne next to the soon to be queen. How a prince was born from love and not money, who fell into the same, wonderful trap as his mother, falling in love with someone he thought he could never have.

And you cried, your face splitting into a smile that made your cheeks hurt, your chest filling with happiness that felt like flowers blossoming between your ribs; you laughed through tears as your arms wrapped around him for the first time since you entered the room, because it was finally okay. Your prince, he was your prince, and you mumbled it in disbelief into the cloth of his shirt, wondering when you would wake up from this dream.

You wondered the same as you looked down at the pristine white skirts flowing down to the velvet floors, pearls and flowers braided into your hair and your fingers laced in the prince’s- the king’s.

The kingdom rang with news of the new king and queen, and how the wedding would be in the history books until the end of time, thanks to the crowd, a wonderful collage of silk and cotton blended into the happiness that knew no wealth.

[bloojayoolie]

Andrew Bogut, Benadryl, and Cats: "Most girls want the world, i just want you and a sunset." olly Id 53876, 5 YrS a happiness she's n eams o nown, a the Brookl INTAKE DATE – 2/1/2019 Used, abused, neglected and with a pain and sadness in her gentle eyes that rips your heart out, MOLLY has not had the best life. You can see it in her face, in her patchy coat, her overgrown nails and of course in the way she carries herself. She doesn’t expect more from life than what she has gotten so far, and she doesn’t DARE hope for a happiness she has never known. Her dreams of a family – of people to surround her with love, who would give her toys and a soft bed and kisses on her forehead – that dream died a long time ago. The question now is if she, also, will die. Will we let that happen? This kind, sweet, modest and gentle lady so deserves to finally have her long dead dream come true. If you can give her a soft place to land, if you can give her all the happiness her heart can hold, please hurry and MESSAGE our page or email us at MustLoveDogsNYC@gmail.com for assistance fostering or adopting her now. We love Molly. You will too. MY VIDEOS: Molly <3 https://youtu.be/5Rw61JTnwps Molly gives kisses https://youtu.be/mXWSHrjNDEw MOLLY, ID # 53876, @ 5 Yrs. Old, 52 lbs. Brooklyn ACC, Medium Mixed Breed, Brown / White, Unaltered Female Owner Surrender Reason: Stray Shelter Assessment Rating: LEVEL 1 Medical Behavior Rating: 1. Green SURRENDER NOTES - BASIC INFORMATION: Molly is an approximately 5 year old medium mixed breed dog. She came to the shelter as a stray, having spent 2 weeks with her finder. Her finder stated Molly is friendlly and outgoing with strangers. She was also friendly around the 12 year old child in the home. She is partially housetrained. SHELTER ASSESSMENT - DATE OF ASSESSMENT: 3-Feb-2019 SUMMARIES LEASH WALKING Strength and pulling: Mild pulling Reactivity to humans: None Reactivity to dogs: None Leash walking comments: SOCIABILITY Loose in room (15-20 seconds): Highly social Call over: Approaches readily Sociability comments: HANDLING Soft handling: Seeks contact, soft bodied Exuberant handling: Seeks contact, soft bodied Handling comments: AROUSAL Jog: Follows, soft bodied, playful Arousal comments: KNOCK Knock Comments: No response TOY Toy comments: Minimal interest PLAYGROUP NOTES - DOG TO DOG SUMMARIES: Molly was surrender as a stray so her past behavior with other dogs is unknown. 2/2: When off leash at the Care Centers, Molly greets the novel male dog with a tense posture. The greeter's leash is held, as well as hers, but a full greet was not conducted because she became stiff immediately. INTAKE BEHAVIOR - Date of intake:1-Feb-2019 Summary: Loose, wiggly, allowed all handling MEDICAL BEHAVIOR - Date of initial: 1-Feb-2019 Summary: Allowed all handling ENERGY LEVEL: Molly displays a medium energy level in the care center, we recommend daily mental and physical stimulation as a way to direct her energy and enthusiasm. BEHAVIOR DETERMINATION: Level 1 Behavior Asilomar H - Healthy Potential challenges: House soiling MEDICAL BEHAVIOR NOTES: 1-Feb-2019 Spay/Neuter Summary Vet Notes: 12:31 PM [Spay/Neuter Waiver - Medical Condition]. Your newly adopted is currently waived from the spay/neuter requirements of the City of NY by the staff veterinarians due to allergic dermatitis. Follow up care at your regular veterinarian is recommended to ensure continued treatment. Your veterinarian will advise you if surgical sterilization is appropriate. 1-Feb-2019 DVM Intake. Vet Notes: 12:29 PM. DVM Intake Exam. Estimated age: 5y Microchip noted on Intake? no. Microchip Number (If Applicable): N/A. History : found stray. Subjective: BARH, good appetite, no elimination concerns. Observed Behavior - allowed all handling. Evidence of Cruelty seen - no. Evidence of Trauma seen - no. Objective: P = wnl, R = wnl, BCS 6/9. EENT: Eyes clear, ears clean, no nasal or ocular discharge noted. Oral Exam: mild dental tartar. PLN: No enlargements noted. H/L: NSR, NMA, CRT < 2, Lungs clear, eupnic. ABD: Non painful, no masses palpated. U/G: female intact no evidence of a scar or tattoo, no leakage or discharge. MSI: Ambulatory x 4, skin free of parasites, no masses noted, diffuse areas of hypotrichosis along her body, skin appears erythematous, there is a small wound on the nose and a scratch on the forehead, the ventral tail is has a small abrasion for hitting tail CNS: Mentation appropriate - no signs of neurologic abnormalities Rectal: visually normal. Assessment : allergies, dermatitis, wounds. Prognosis: good. Plan: simplicef 125mg PO SID for 14 days. benadryl 25mg PO BID for 14 days. recommend ZD or selected protein or a novel protein diet exclusively SURGERY: temp waiver for allergic dermatitis *** TO FOSTER OR ADOPT *** If you would like to adopt a NYC ACC dog, and can get to the shelter in person to complete the adoption process, you can contact the shelter directly. We have provided the Brooklyn, Staten Island and Manhattan information below. Adoption hours at these facilities is Noon – 8:00 p.m. (6:30 on weekends) If you CANNOT get to the shelter in person and you want to FOSTER OR ADOPT a NYC ACC Dog, you can PRIVATE MESSAGE our Must Love Dogs page for assistance. PLEASE NOTE: You MUST live in NY, NJ, PA, CT, RI, DE, MD, MA, NH, VT, ME or Northern VA. You will need to fill out applications with a New Hope Rescue Partner to foster or adopt a NYC ACC dog. Transport is available if you live within the prescribed range of states. Shelter contact information: Phone number (212) 788-4000 Email adopt@nycacc.org Shelter Addresses: Brooklyn Shelter: 2336 Linden Boulevard Brooklyn, NY 11208 Manhattan Shelter: 326 East 110 St. New York, NY 10029 Staten Island Shelter: 3139 Veterans Road West Staten Island, NY 10309 *** NEW NYC ACC RATING SYSTEM *** Level 1 Dogs with Level 1 determinations are suitable for the majority of homes. These dogs are not displaying concerning behaviors in shelter, and the owner surrender profile (where available) is positive. Some dogs with Level 1 determinations may still have potential challenges, but these are challenges that the behavior team believe can be handled by the majority of adopters. The potential challenges could include no young children, prefers to be the only dog, no dog parks, no cats, kennel presence, basic manners, low level fear and mild anxiety. Level 2 Dogs with Level 2 determinations will be suitable for adopters with some previous dog experience. They will have displayed behavior in the shelter (or have owner reported behavior) that requires some training, or is simply not suitable for an adopter with minimal experience. Dogs with a Level 2 determination may have multiple potential challenges and these may be presenting at differing levels of intensity, so careful consideration of the behavior notes will be required for counselling. Potential challenges at Level 2 include no young children, single pet home, resource guarding, on-leash reactivity, mouthiness, fear with potential for escalation, impulse control/arousal, anxiety and separation anxiety. Level 3 Dogs with Level 3 determinations will need to go to homes with experienced adopters, and the ACC strongly suggest that the adopter have prior experience with the challenges described and/or an understanding of the challenge and how to manage it safely in a home environment. In many cases, a trainer will be needed to manage and work on the behaviors safely in a home environment. It is likely that every dog with a Level 3 determination will have a behavior modification or training plan available to them from the behavior department that will go home with the adopters and be made available to the New Hope Partners for their fosters and adopters. Some of the challenges seen at Level 3 are also seen at Level 1 and Level 2, but when seen alongside a Level 3 determination can be assumed to be more severe. The potential challenges for Level 3 determinations include adult only home (no children under the age of 13), single pet home, resource guarding, on-leash reactivity with potential for redirection, mouthiness with pressure, potential escalation to threatening behavior, impulse control, arousal, anxiety, separation anxiety, bite history (human), bite history (dog) and bite history (other). New Hope Rescue Only Dog is not publicly adoptable. Prospective fosters or adopters need to fill out applications with New Hope Partner Rescues to save this dog.