#i am. wildly frustrated with how work always leaves us barely any room to exist and process our emotions

[ladyartemesia]

TEASER: Kim Seokjin and the Mean Omega

Pairing: Nerd Alpha Kim Seokjin x Popular Omega Reader

Genre: A/B/O • Enemies to Lovers • (Sorta) College AU • Best Friend's Brother AU (Who is surprised? No one?)

Teaser Word Count: 3.6K

Teaser Warnings: A/B/O sexual dynamics • suggestive content

Rating: Explicit (18+) (Teaser is PG-13)

Summary: In the modern world, alphas are almost unheard of so why even bother learning about them? After all, as a spoiled (but reasonably kind-hearted) omega who is used to getting whatever she wants, you have better things to do. However, when unexpected circumstances throw you in the path of (extremely) nerdy and (probably?) shy Kim Seokjin, you're shocked to discover that he won't be wrapped around your little finger as easily as all the rest. Bringing that infuriating geek to his knees quickly becomes your personal mission in life... But it turns out that Kim Seokjin is not what he appears to be and the mean omega who eats beta boys for breakfast is about to get way more than she bargained for...

Author’s Note: This story would not be here without the love, support and friendship of my incredible support system. You talk with me, you laugh with me, you listen when I’m crying, and you read my chaotic drafts when I am ready to pull my hair out of my head in frustration. I love you all. @ppersonna @xjoonchildx @untaemedqueen @lemonjoonah. ALSO thank you to each and every one of you who encouraged me to post this story. This fic is dedicated to all of you as a token of my love and appreciation. Your support keeps me writing. Never doubt that for a second.

“...due to discriminatory anti-alpha policies in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, alphas were nearly eliminated from the general population…”

You heaved a weary sigh and rolled your shoulders—stretching the buttons of your high-end Oxford shirt to their limit. The beta sophomore to your right whined audibly and you smirked.

“...despite efforts to restore the genetic balance of designations, alphas currently comprise less than one percent of the population…”

Your back arched slightly as you crossed your legs, letting the absurdly short hem of your skirt ride up even higher. The poor boy you were tormenting shifted miserably in his seat.

How was he supposed to focus on a Human Biology and Designation Studies lecture when the living breathing embodiment of every sweaty undergrad’s fantasies was twisting her fingers in her hair and wrapping her pretty pink tongue around a strawberry lollipop right there in the middle of class?

“...unlike betas and omegas, alphas possess enhanced strength and the ability to compel other designations with their voice. Unmated alphas especially were often baselessly feared and distrusted...”

You knew exactly how you affected boys like him. You were a shameless tease who relished their attention and the power it brought you. Who needed drugs when driving a man mad with desire was a rush more potent than any high?

“...and that’s all for today so please read pages 450-466 in the text over break and remember to turn in your essay on scent and consent in intimacy—”

That poor sophomore looked like he had finally worked up the courage to speak to you, but you were already out the door and tearing down the hall toward your beautiful (and entirely platonic) counterpart, Kim Taehyung.

“Do you think Professor Moore is unaware that class is over at 3:25 or is he just torturing us for science?”

Taehyung shrugged, falling into step beside you with practiced ease.

“I mean I would torture you for free so it’s hard to say.”

The corner of your mouth quirked up at his characteristic dry humor, but the irritation at being held in that sweltering lecture hall for an extra ten minutes had frayed your temper.

“It’s the last class before spring break, I’m sure he was on some sort of twisted power trip.” You dug around in your purse for some chapstick, ignoring Tae’s amused snorting, “Alphas barely exist anymore and none of us are likely to meet one. Why bother learning what they can do?”

Taehyung tilted his head in amusement.

“You might be surprised.”

The final party before the beginning of spring break was always a laid back affair.

Many people had already caught planes to their various destinations, but your flight was scheduled for early tomorrow morning—leaving you with some time to kill.

Taehyung pressed his newest experimental concoction into your hand within minutes of entering the house (a surprisingly neat bachelor pad owned by two seniors, Jung Hoseok and Min Yoongi) and then darted back to the kitchen to craft more questionable alcohol potions like a deranged party warlock.

You had just found a comfortable place on the couch and were contemplating whether sampling your best friend’s mad scientist elixir would be worth the probable damage to your body when—

“H-Hello...”

It was that sophomore from your Designations Studies class. What was his name again? Jungwoo? Jinwook?

“Jungkook,” you smiled, delighted to have remembered before it became awkward. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You motioned to the empty cushion next to you and the man in question scrambled over like he’d won the lottery.

“I—I know we don’t know each other well, but I noticed you were absent during Professor Moore’s lecture on intimacy and scent consent so I—” he blushed deeply, “I wrote the essay for you—and I brought a copy on my flash drive if-if you want it.”

Your heart melted immediately.

“Oh my gosh Jungkook, that is so sweet of you!”

Your gaze darted over his muscular form and thick brown curls.

Sweet indeed.

“I don’t want to miss out on the learning though,” you pouted, placing a hand on his tattooed bicep. “Can you explain it to me?”

Jungkook nodded vigorously even as his wide eyes fell to where your fingers were sliding slowly over his chest.

Scent consent was a pretty basic and universally known concept, but you really were touched by the handsome sophomore's consideration.

Why not give him (and yourself) a little reward?

“Um so basically if two people are involved in...intimate activities—”

You leaned forward to nip his ear lightly and he whimpered.

“Like this?” you asked innocently.

“Y-Yes. Like that.” He gulped. “In an intimate situation consent or refusal can be smelled. The scent of refusal or reluctance in intimacy is strong, unmistakable, and has a high chemical potency.”

“Is that so?” you drawled, sliding over onto his lap. Jungkook’s eyes rolled back into his head and you bit back a grin.

He was adorable.

“Uh-huh—it—oh my gawd,” (you were nibbling on his ear again) “it can immediately block sexual arousal and performance in the other partner. Meaning, if consent is not present, then it becomes difficult or—ahh” (his voice began to waver under your continued attention) “—or even impossible to continue with intimate acts.”

Your hand slid up to his cheek, bringing him closer till your lips were almost touching.

“Then what does it mean if I’m still so turned on right now?”

“It means,” Jungkook shuddered—nearly delirious with your scent, “that I really really want you.”

Across the room, Park Jimin chuckled as he watched you seduce his enthusiastic friend.

Jeon Jungkook was such a sweet kid.

Hopefully he wouldn’t get too attached.

“Wow... Some people are genuinely born blessed I suppose.”

Jimin turned to see Jung Hoseok eyeing the dimly lit corner where you and the eager young sophomore were exploring each other.

It was a rather...provocative spectacle. Not quite raunchy (you weren’t truly an exhibitionist)—just insanely sexy.

Jimin’s gaze lingered on the smooth curve of your thigh where Jeon Jungkook was currently holding on for dear life.

Lucky bastard.

“Ah you know how she is,” he sighed. “That boy isn’t going to get any farther than anyone else.”

It was relatively common knowledge that you liked to mess around but rarely—if ever— fully hooked up with anyone.

Jimin asked you about it once during a drunken game of truth or dare and you had just shrugged, mumbling something along the lines of avoiding STDs (which—to be fair—was at least part of your motivation), but the truth was a little more complicated than that.

In terms of experience, you weren’t a virgin, but... you hadn’t actually had sex in years.

You loved the chase, the foreplay, the build-up—the game of cat-and-mouse between two people who were attracted to one another.

But the final consummation was always so…

Wildly unfulfilling.

Every encounter left you frustrated. Empty.

Grumpy—even.

So you stopped bothering with it all together. (That was what sex toys were for after all.)

At the end of the day you were perfectly content being labeled a tease—it meant that people tended to know what they were (or rather weren’t) getting into when they rolled the dice with you.

Besides…it hadn’t even put a dent in your throng of admirers.

You were sunny, spoiled, indulgent, almost universally adored—

And you loved every minute of it.

“You know…” Hoseok took a long sip of his drink. “I always thought she would end up with Taehyung, but it’s been three years.”

Like you, Kim Taehyung was a trust fund brat and it was only natural that two beautiful and absurdly privileged people would gravitate to one another. You met at a freshman pledge party and had been an inseparable (and formidable) dynamic duo ever since.

The undisputed king and queen of campus.

Yes—maybe the two of you were a little self-absorbed at times, but it was hardly your fault that people tended to instinctively cater to the force of your combined looks, wealth, and charisma.

And it didn’t hurt that neither of you were ever intentionally cruel or unkind.

Just... habitually thoughtless.

(Though not when it came to each other. If anything your friendship was one area where you were both a little more human.)

Jimin shook his head.

“Nah that’s never gonna happen.” He tapped his nose. “They’re scent-crossed.”

Hoseok’s eyes widened.

“Really?”

Scent-crossed pairs didn’t smell sexually attractive to each other.

Like. At all.

No matter how physically or visually appealing an individual might be, it would be near impossible to form a sexual or romantic attachment to them if you were scent-crossed. Alphas, betas, and omegas were all subject to their noses first and foremost in the realm of attraction.

You and Taehyung smelled like comfort and home to one another...

But you were more turned on by a crisp cup of apple juice than you were his scent and the feeling was quite mutual.

He might as well have been your actual brother.

“That explains so much.” Hoseok snorted as he watched a drunken Taehyung do a flying leap on top of both you and Jungkook.

“Why is sunlight so offensive?” you croaked, dragging yourself and your luggage toward the boarding ramp next to an equally miserable Taehyung.

“The next time I book a flight before 9 AM, please shoot me,” he grunted.

Your parents were celebrating their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary with a month-long European cruise so your best friend had graciously invited you to spend two glorious weeks of spring vacation at his family estate.

The invitation had actually come as somewhat of a surprise because—for all your closeness—Taehyung was uncharacteristically tight-lipped about his family.

Not that he was deliberately withholding information per se… It was just that he never really brought them up beyond an occasional passing comment.

The one time you did ask him about them directly he sighed and said—

“We’re very close, but… I suppose we’ve just gotten used to being very private.”

There was clearly more to the story, but you were confident that Tae would share it if and when he was ready.

“My parents are in Seoul opening a new branch of the company. They took my little sister with them and my older brother has his own house so it will be just us.” He snuggled deeper into the first class seat directly next to yours. “We’ll hang out by the pool and chill during the day, then hit up some of the new clubs or whatever at night.”

“So… No one from your family will be there?”

Perhaps the invitation was not so surprising after all.

“Nope. Just you and me and thirty acres of ocean front property.”

You grinned.

“Perfect.”

“Whose room is that?”

The two of you were lugging your bags down the main hall of Taehyung’s expansive mansion when a strange hint of...something caught you right by the nose.

Your friend turned to find you frozen and staring curiously at a familiar door near the balcony.

His eyes widened, but you were too preoccupied to notice his momentary concern.

“That’s just Jin’s room.”

A firm hand wrapped around your wrist and dragged you away, but your eyes stayed glued to the source of the mysterious scent until you were around the corner and out of sight.

Your suite for the next two weeks was right across the hall from Taehyung’s. There was a whirlpool, a full bath, a balcony, and an ocean view that would rival the cover spread of any travel magazine.

Tae headed for the shower (to ‘wash the airplane off’) immediately after showing you the room and you were thinking of doing the same except…

Your mind kept going back to that door and the hint of scent you detected.

There was something… different about it.

It was faint—and far from fresh (which made sense considering that one of the few things you did know about Kim Seokjin was that he hadn’t lived in this house for years).

But still…

The need to smell it again pressed insistently at the back of your mind.

Suddenly the sound of Taehyung singing raunchy lyrics in the shower carried over through the walls and you found your feet moving almost of their own accord.

What Tae doesn’t know won’t hurt him, you rationalized, making your way down the hall toward Jin’s door. Besides—it’s not as if I’m going to steal anything…

You just needed to find that scent again.

By the time your fingers closed over the knob every one of your nerves was strangely—acutely—alert but nothing could have prepared you for what was waiting behind the door.

Oh. My. Gosh.

“What a colossal nerd.”

The room was covered floor to ceiling in Nintendo memorabilia.

Bright primary colors assaulted your eyes from all directions in the form of action figures, posters, pillows, and every other conceivable merch variety known to man.

In the center of the suite stood a large king-sized bed covered in a custom black couture toile-style Mario-verse bed set (that looked every bit as expensive as it was geeky) and a mountain of high quality Nintendo character plush toys.

Everything was simultaneously luxe and nostalgic—a rare combination of sophisticated aesthetic balance and childlike indulgence.

And the scent was there.

It was faint and covered under layers of cleaner and air fresheners, but still lingering just below the surface—too weak for you to get a really good whiff, yet potent enough to torment you.

You moved forward unconsciously toward the strongest source of the hypnotic smell—the strangely inviting expanse of Kim Seokjin’s mattress.

Suddenly the urge to climb—no crawl—across the bed itself and roll around in it like a kitten in catnip gripped you out of nowhere.

“What the hell?” you muttered, rubbing absently over the mating gland at the base of your neck.

Something very odd was going on with your body.

Your restless gaze zeroed in on one of the stuffed toys piled atop his pillows. It was a cute little mushroom man your brain recognized as a Mario character named ‘Toad’.

Take it.

Your mouth dropped open in shock.

You need it.

“Am I going insane?” you wondered aloud.

You have to take it.

Muscles in your hand began to twitch involuntarily. You bit your lip.

Bring it back with you.

Several minutes later a freshly washed Taehyung wandered over to your room and found you sitting perfectly still on your bed while staring off into space.

His head tilted in curious concern.

“Everything ok?”

You started a bit at the sound of his voice, but recovered quickly.

“Never better!” you chirped—almost too brightly. “Let’s go get some dinner, I’m starving.”

Then you grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hall toward the kitchen—shutting the door before he could catch a glimpse of his brother’s stuffed Toad doll stashed underneath your pillow

“...a critical water main rupture in the city’s New Market district early this morning has forced several residents out of their homes as flood water swelled up to nearly two feet. The governor declared a state of emergency and ordered hotels around the city to accommodate the displaced citizens. Crews are still clearing the water and assessing damages. We expect—

“Hey!” you shouted through a mouthful of cereal, after Your best friend switched off the television, “I was watching that!”

“And what you should be doing is getting ready for the pool.” Tae snatched your cereal bowl and dragged you by your shirt collar toward the stairs. “It is the first morning of our vacation. I’m not trying to waste any time. Now go.” He shoved you forward, smacking your ass for good measure.

You swatted back at him half-heartedly as jogged back up to the room where you enjoyed a surprisingly restful sleep last night.

Kim Seokjin’s door glared at you accusingly as you shuffled past—unable to let you forget that you had kidnapped it’s little mushroom man in an unexplained fit of kleptomania, but that was a problem for your future self.

The you of right now was going to zen out in the Kim family's premium glass-enclosed indoor pool (it was still a little chilly for the outdoor pool) with her best friend and bask in the simple joys of good company and no responsibility.

...Or not.

A few minutes later you bounced into the living room wearing a simple black tankini with a cute floral cover only to find Taehyung on the phone with his head in his hands.

“Yes, sir. I understand… I...I know this is my responsibility...”

That didn’t sound good.

After a few more tense moments, Tae hung up and collapsed backward into the couch with a heavy sigh.

“That water main break you heard about on TV this morning was the last straw between the province and its current contractor. They called an emergency meeting for new bids.”

Your heart dropped as you sank down beside him.

“Your dad wants you to go...doesn’t he.”

Taehyung nodded miserably.

“He can’t leave the Seoul opening on such short notice and managing government construction contracts is part of what I’ve been training for. This could be huge for our company.”

“Well...why doesn’t your brother go?���

“Jin is the brains behind most of our patented gaming and tech innovations. He wouldn’t even know where to begin with this sort of thing. Besides,” his lips quirked up in a rueful grin, “my brother doesn’t have the patience to stroke entitled geriatric egos for hours on end—which is likely what I’m going to have to do.”

The two of you headed back to Taehyung’s room where you helped him pack some suits and toiletries for his trip.

Naturally you were disappointed but...this was a great opportunity for your best friend to prove himself in his chosen field and you both knew it. In fact, he was already starting to brighten a bit.

“The meeting is about a hundred miles north of here. My dad’s secretary already handled the flight and hotel room.” His eyes darted around the suite to see if he was forgetting anything.

It was clear he was nervous, though you were sure he didn’t need to be. Kim Taehyung was a trust fund brat, but he was also talented and deeply passionate about his family’s company.

Someday this would be the norm. The two of you were stealing time in college, determined to live a little before the expectations of your powerful families transferred fully onto your shoulders.

It was becoming more and more clear, however, that your carefree time was slowly running out.

Mother had already spoken to you about potential marriage alliances and your father expected you to intern with his Vice President this summer just as your elder sister had...

Taehyung’s voice suddenly interrupted your bittersweet introspection and you couldn’t help but smile at how grown-up he looked in his suit and briefcase ensemble.

Everything was going to change, but not quite yet.

“They estimate negotiations should take around a week or so…” He walked over and pulled you into a tight hug. “There should still be some vacation left for us when I get back.”

“Hurry back then,” you mumbled grumpily into his chest and he chuckled.

“I will.”

Taehyung had been gone for less than twenty minutes when you decided that the best use of your time would be to eat more snacks.

The last thing you expected when you skipped merrily into the kitchen was to find it occupied by a shaggy-haired homeless man in glasses.

Your first instinct was to scream which caused the homeless man to drop the apple he was biting right onto the floor where it rolled around for a small eternity before coming to rest at his ankles.

Your second instinct was to grab a butcher’s cleaver from the nearby knife block and wave it chaotically at the intruder while shouting something along the lines of—

“You’ve made a huge mistake! My boyfriend is the biggest, meanest mafia boss in Seoul! Leave now and he might let you live!”

The homeless man continued to stare at you with a mixture of confusion and shock, but made no move to run away in terror like you were hoping.

So you tried again.

“Didn’t you hear what I said?! The last man who touched me drinks his steak through a straw now! Do the smart thing and leave before my boyfriend comes down those stairs and it’s too late!”

Infuriatingly, the homeless man was still not fleeing for his life and frankly you were starting to get frustrated. You drew in a deep cleansing breath and were prepared to issue another grandiose threat when he finally spoke.

“I’m sorry, miss. I... think there’s been some sort of mistake. Who is your boyfriend?”

There was no rational explanation for what came out of your mouth next, but it rolled off your tongue so smoothly and you didn’t even flinch.

“Kim Seokjin.”

For the first time in your entire exchange, the intruder looked truly alarmed.

Now that’s more like it.

“You’ve heard of him I see. He’s a dangerous man and my body belongs to him.” You slammed the cleaver down onto the countertop with a (hopefully) menacing slash. “Kim Seokjin doesn’t like when other men put their hands on what belongs to him.”

There was a long, unpardonably tense moment of silence…Then the stranger slowly reached forward and picked up a mobile phone from the table in front of him.

His eyes remained locked with yours as he pressed a quick series of buttons, brought the phone to his ear, waited a few seconds and said—

“Taehyung… Would you mind telling me why there is a half-naked, knife-wielding omega in our kitchen claiming to be my girlfriend?”

Hello! Please comment on this post if you would like to be added to the taglist!

You guys were all so wonderful, and encouraging, and excited that I literally got this teaser out in three days! If you like what you read so far, please let me know! I cannot put into words how meaningful and valuable feedback is to me. I truly treasure it! It fuels my creativity and keeps me writing. I would love to hear from you!

[lowkeyjustvibing]

Fic time again

Pairing: Truce poly + Reaper and Epic

Prompt: Just some chaos

Also! We have:

Enby Nightmare, Reaper, and Horror

Neopronoun Error (string,strings,stringself)

aro/ace Ink and ace Reaper

Also human versions ‘cuz    y e s

*CRASH*

“YOU BETTER NOT HAVE BROKEN ONE OF MY VASES INK!”

“You’re legit dead, bruh.”

“Shut up and run before they see us!”

Nightmare stormed down the hall, their tentacles thrashing wildly and just barely avoiding breaking some things themselves. Things like this (Which were once a rarity) had become quite common ever since the truce and the events that occurred as a result. In short, after peace was finally brought to the multiverse, both the Star Sanses and the Bad Sanses both realized just how dull life was without the other group present in their lives. 

The solution? Get everyone to live in the same house.

And since Nightmare was the only one in possession of a building big enough for all of them to live in, the Star Sanses just moved in. It was difficult to get used to the sudden change in living arrangements. Fights would break out on a daily basis over small things and it would be up to someone else to keep the peace. However, once they all managed to get used to each other, things went a lot smoother.

Or rather, smoother than before.

Nightmare finally reached the living room, sighing as they saw the shards of porcelain covering the floor.

“And this was one of my favorites too.” They muttered, picking up the shards.

Thankfully, one of the nice things about being covered in sentient sludge is that it works as great glue. In a few seconds, the vase looked back to normal (If you ignored the subtle cracks covering it).

“Now where’s that clumsy squid?” They mused, scanning the room.

At that moment Dust walked in, probably having heard all the commotion as well and coming to see what happened. When he saw Nightmare, he gave a small wave before flopping onto the couch and curling up under the blankets.

“Hey!”

Nightmare jumped and Dust practically flew off the couch, immediately grabbing the pocket knife he carried, manifesting a few blasters, and pointing them at the now wriggling blankets.

Nightmare just sighed, signaling Dust to calm down, “Ink, come out from under the blankets.”

After a few minutes of silence, the artist was heard quietly cursing before sheepishly poking his head out from under the blankets, “Um, hey Nightmare?”

Suddenly, another person emerged from the blanket as well, “It’s his fault, bruh!”

Nightmare just sighed again, pinching their eyebrows, “What have I told you about roughhousing outside of the gym and your own rooms?”

“Not to...” Epic and Ink responded simultaneously, both staring at the floor.

Dust just snickered, de-summoning the blaster and putting away his knife, “What is this, the seventh time you guys have broken something just this week?”

Ink stuck his tongue out at the other, getting rewarded with a similar action. 

“That doesn’t matter,” Nightmare said, “Ink, Epic, you two are doing extra chores this week.”

“What?!” Epic cried, “I didn’t even do anything, bruh!”

“Yes, because Ink decided to break the vase with no prompting.”

Epic just huffed and folded his arms, grumbling something unintelligible. Ink looked equally annoyed but seemed to accept what Nightmare said. 

“Oh yeah, Nightmare.” Dust suddenly piped up, “I think Error wanted you. Heard string say something about Reaper harassing strings.”

“Not again...” Nightmare muttered, walking off and leaving the other three to do their own thing.

On the way to where they believed Error was, Nightmare passed Dream’s room where he was helping Horror read a story Killer had gotten them for their birthday. It had taken a while for Horror to be comfortable asking anyone to help them read. They felt embarrassed that they couldn’t read on their own due to not only being slightly dyslexic, but also having poor vision. It always Nightmare happy to see somebody helping them. After a few moments, Dream looked up and saw Nightmare. He waved, smiling brightly and Horror glanced up, waving as well. Nightmare returned the gesture before continuing down the hall, they had a job to do.

“HI NIGHTMARE!”

Nightmare jumped, their tentacles instinctively sharpening and pointing towards whoever scared them.

“OH!” Blue cried before lowering his voice, “Sorry, I forget how loud I can be sometimes.”

After recovering from the shock Nightmare smiled, ruffling Blue’s hair, “It’s fine, you just surprised me.”

Blue beamed, giving them a hug, “OK!”

They returned the hug, giving the shorter and giving him a peck on the cheek before letting go, “Forgive me for my abruptness, but I have something to take care of at the moment. See you again later.”

And with that, they left a very flustered Blue standing in the middle of the hallway. Now, to finally find Error. They thought, a determined glint in their eyes. No more distractions.

“Sup Boss.”

Nightmare just barely suppressed a groan, “Damn it.”

Killer scoffed, “Well, I didn’t realize how little you liked my presence.” 

“You know I didn’t mean that.” Nightmare responded, continuing down the hall with Killer now practically skipping along behind them.

“Then what’s got ya’ so riled up?” Killer asked.

“I’m trying to find Error but I keep getting distracted by people.”

“Why ‘re ya’ trying to find strings?”

“Dust said something about Reaper harassing strings and I want to make sure Error doesn’t kill them.”

At that, Killer instantly tensed up, though he quickly hid his reaction, “Oh, you got any idea where string is?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

Killer didn’t respond, only speeding up and quickly overtaking Nightmare. In turn, Nightmare began speeding up as well to keep up with him. They expected Killer to become worried once he found out Error was even mildly inconvenienced. Dust and Horror were also very protective of the glitch. They all saw strings as a parental figure of sorts (Along with Nightmare). 

“Calm down Killer.” Nightmare said, reaching out and grabbing his shoulder.

Killer flinched and seemed to calm down a bit but he still radiated worry and anger, “Sorry, I’m just worried about strings.”

“I am too but you just need to calm down.” They responded, “It’ll be OK.”

Killer grumbled something but agreed following right alongside Nightmare.

“I wonder where-” Nightmare was cut off by a glitched out shout of frustration followed by a surprised yelp, “Found them.”

Killer broke into a run and Nightmare just walked along after him.

“Killer! Get away before I touch you!” Reaper cried, instantly stumbling backwards upon seeing the other.

Killer just scoffed in response and turned to Error who was still glitching slightly. It was obvious string was just frustrated with the pesky god, passive aggressively turning away from them.

Reaper finally steadied, brushing themselves off, “Well, that was an unexpected turn of events.” after regaining their composure, they turned to Error and did a dramatic bow, “Forgive me for my insolence my sweet cherry blossom.”

Error ignored strings blush and the fact that parts of strings were pixelating in and out of existence, “ץєคђ ฬђคՇєשєг, ןยรՇ ๒คςк ๏ŦŦ ๒єŦ๏гє เ ๔๏ ร๏๓єՇђเภﻮ ฬє ๒๏Շђ гєﻮгєՇ.”

Reaper took that as a win and grinned, spinning on their heel and walking down the hall, “I look forward to our next encounter beautiful~!”

“Sƚυριԃ ϝʅιɾƚყ Ⴆαʂƚαɾԃ.” Error muttered, though string wouldn’t deny the smile that tugged at the corners of strings mouth.

“You OK Error?” Killer asked, careful not to be too close without permission.

String nodded, “Yҽαԋ, αʅʅ Շђєץ ԃιԃ ɯαʂ ριʂʂ ɱҽ σϝϝ. Nσƚԋιɳɠ Ⴆιɠ.”

“They’re lucky I can’t touch them or else they’d be in danger right about now.” Was all he said, scowling at the floor.

Nightmare finally stepped forward, having just been watching the interaction, “Well, I’m glad nothing too bad happened.”

“Eαʂყ ϝσɾ ყσυ ƚσ ʂαყ σƈƚσρυʂ.” String responded.

Nightmare rolled their eyes, “My goodness, I thought we were over the whole octopus ordeal.”

“Never will be goop lord!” Killer said, instantly going from brooding to playful.

They sighed in disappointment before picking Killer up with a tentacle and motioning for Error to follow, “Anyways, it’s movie night.”

“Is it my turn?!” Killer asked, swinging his legs though being careful not to kick Nightmare.

“No, Cross.” 

Killer groaned loudly, “Oh come ON! You know full well he and Epic are gonna’ make us watch the Bee Movie again.”

Nightmare just shrugged, “I don’t make the rules.”

“YES YOU DO!”

“Irrelevant.” 

Error snickered quietly at their debate, “ʏօʊ ȶաօ ʄɨɢɦȶ ʟɨӄɛ ǟռ օʟɖ ʍǟʀʀɨɛɖ ƈօʊքʟɛ.”

“Bold of you to assume we aren’t.” Killer retorted.

“I’m pretty sure we all are.”

“Whatever.”

They walked in silence for a moment before Nightmare turned and rapped loudly on a nearby door, “Epic, Cross, stop making out and come to the living room. It’s movie night.”

After a few moments of frantic shuffling from inside the room, Cross opened the door, looking quite disheveled, “H-hey Nightmare, we’ll be out in a minute.”

Somewhere inside the dimly lit bedroom a frantic voice whispered, “Close the damn door, bruh!”

Killer burst out laughing, Error barely kept stringself from glitching out from laughter, and Nightmare chuckled before closing the door in Cross’s flushed face. 

“Oh they are NEVER living this down!” Killer wheezed and barely managed to pat the tentacle holding him, “H-here, just put me d-down, I need to go tell the other two.” he wheezed out.

Nightmare set him down and after a few moments of trying to catch his breath, he was off, jogging down the halls and calling for Horror and Dust. After he was out of sight, Nightmare turned to Error.

“So,” They started, “Are you SURE you’re OK?”

Error looked at them in confusion for a moment before nodding, “Yҽαԋ, ʝυʂƚ ɠσƚ ƈαυɠԋƚ σϝϝ Ⴆყ Rҽαρҽɾ. I'ɱ ϝιɳҽ ɳσɯ.”

“Alright,” Nightmare responded, giving strings a soft kiss on the forehead, “but if they ever make you uncomfortable just tell them to back off. They’re a clingy flirt but they know to respect boundaries.”

String was now a blushing mess and Nightmare reveled in that fact, deciding to fluster strings more. 

“I hope you know I love you.” They mumbled, moving closer to Error (Who thankfully didn’t move back)

String was glitching hard, not from how close the other was, but from how flustered strings was.

Nightmare decided to continue, embracing strings in a loose hug, “You’re so wonderful, I could never live without you.”

“₦-₦ł₲Ⱨ₮₥₳ⱤɆ...” Error responded and upon hearing how bad string was glitching, Nightmare backed off slightly.

After a few moments, string pulled them back into another hug, burying strings head into their shoulder. Nightmare was caught off guard but smiled and proceeded to hum quietly while holding the other. They occasionally gave more compliments just to see Error get flustered again while they both stood there in the empty hallway. After some time, Nightmare found themself wanting to make the other all the more flustered, just to see what would happen. They lifted a hand to strings cheek and moved strings so that they were face to face. The only warning Error got was a mischievous look in Nightmare’s eyes before their lips met. It was brief, nothing too long so as to not cause Error to crash, but Nightmare savored the brief moment.

After a few minutes of stunned silence, Error’s cheeks began to burn. String glitched sharply, trying not to crash as Nightmare began to regret the impulsive decision.

“Are you O-” Nightmare started but was stopped as Error, in a similar moment of impulsivity, kissed them again.

Now it was Nightmare’s turn to be caught off guard but they weren’t about to waste this. They kissed back and absentmindedly began fiddling with strings hair. 

That was until they heard the sound of a phone camera clicking and snickering from a bit down the hall. They both instantly looked over and saw Cross and Epic snickering as Epic pointed his phone at them. The effect was instantaneous. Error crashed, scratchy dial up noise filling the hall and Nightmare’s tentacles sharpened and pointed towards the other two as their cheeks turned bright red.

“Go.” Was all they said and Cross instantly grabbed Epic and sprinted down the hall, cursing as he ran.

Nightmare uttered a few curses themself and turned back to Error who was still rebooting. It took a minute but string eventually finished, blinking a few times to clear the lingering pixels and error signs.

“₮ⱧØ₴Ɇ Ⱡł₮₮ⱠɆ ₳**ⱧØⱠɆ₴!” String cried, the glitches returning for a moment before calming down.

“Calm down Error.” Nightmare said, barely retaining their own composure, “It’s not like they can even do much with that picture anyways.”

String muttered something incomprehensible before just groaning and resting strings head on Nightmares shoulder, “ƈǟռ ʏօʊ ǟȶ ʟɛǟֆȶ ƈǟʀʀʏ ʍɛ? ɨ'ʍ ȶɨʀɛɖ ռօա.”

“Of course.” They responded, doing something similar to what they did with Killer and carrying strings in their tentacles.

They had discovered that while physical contact still caused strings to glitch occasionally, somehow their tentacles didn’t seem to trigger it. So, of course, whenever Error crashed and was too tired to walk much, they would always carry strings in his tentacles. As they walked, Error sighed contentedly and buried strings head in the mass of pure negativity. Nightmare couldn’t help feeling proud that they found a way to practically smother Error while not hurting strings, something very few could accomplish. They eventually got to the theatre room where everyone was either chatting amongst themselves or engaged in the giant pillow fight occurring in the middle of the room.

“Are we watching a movie or...?” Nightmare said, their voice seeming to magically project to every corner of the room and quelling all the chaos.

“I’ll get popcorn!” Dream said, jumping to his feet and running to the kitchen as Blue and Horror followed. 

Nightmare sat Error down gently on the couch, making sure string was comfortable before moving around the scattered cushions and sitting next to strings. It took a few minutes for the other three to get back and by then, the movie was already chosen. As expected, it was the Bee Movie. Everyone was either howling with laughter or completely enraged by this development. The popcorn bowls were distributed across the couch and floor where everyone was sitting and the movie started. No one was watching the movie. Instead, they were all either talking or cuddling with the nearest person. Nightmare did the same and cradled Error in their tentacles along with Blue, who just happened to be sitting nearby, and reading a book.

The thing that snapped them out of the world of the thick novel was loud snickers coming from one side of the room. Killer, Horror, Cross, and Epic were all just barely keeping from bursting out laughing at something Ink was showing them. Out of curiosity, Nightmare reached out with a spare tentacle and snatched the sketch book, earning an indignant shout from Ink. They ignored it and opened the sketchbook, skipping past a few other, incredibly well done, drawing to what the other four were looking at. 

So to say that they were shocked upon going from a drawing of a forest the looked like it was a picture and not hand drawn to some horrible amalgamation of Barry B. Benson and Shrek was an understatement.

Error (Who just recently woke up) and Blue saw the drawing and started snickering as well. Nightmare just stared at it in disgust and confusion.

“I don’t understand why you waste your incredible talent on such horrendous things.” Was all they said before giving the sketchbook back.

“Whatever Mr. Grumpy Pants.” Ink huffed, holding the book close to his chest as if someone else was about to take it as well.

After the laughter died down they all returned to what they had been doing. It was still odd to many of them. The fact that some were sitting side by side with who used to be their mortal enemies was still a foreign concept but it wasn’t unwelcome. 

“Love you guys.” Dust whispered and everyone in the room looked at him in surprise.

After a few moments of Dust feeling incredibly self conscious about the fact that everyone was staring him down, Error responded.

“ʟօʋɛ ʏօʊ ɢʊʏֆ ȶօօ.” String said, cuddling closer into Nightmare.

A chorus of “Love you”s Rose from around the room as they all relaxed, enjoying the feeling of peaceful quiet. Well, at least until tomorrow when they were all reenergized and ready to cause more trouble.

--------------------

I FINALLY FISHING FINISHED OH MY GOSH

This took SO long to do (Almost completely because I procrastinated so long-) and I’m glad I finally finished it! 

I hope this makes yalls as happy as it made me while I wrote it :)

[missbrightsky]

Bitch Is A Five Letter Word

Fics Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Chapter 6: First Rule of Fight Club

It has been 36 hours since Elain inadvertently found out about a fight that Hybern was hosting on Saturday night. And 35 hours and 59 minutes ago, all of her idiot friends have decided that they want to go to the fight.

Instead of bashing all their heads together, Feyre took out her frustration of their foolishness on the punching bag in front of her. Saturday mornings were spent at the gym with Cass, sharpening their skills and strengthening their friendship. She got here an hour earlier than usual so that when he finally showed up, she would be less inclined to punch him.

One. One-two. One. One-two.

The bag absorbed the force of her punches with grace, not nearly as satisfying as going up against Cassian. He needed to hurry his ass up.

She paused, catching the bag to keep it from swinging wildly, pressing her forehead against the cool vinyl. Her mind wandered to Thursday night without meaning to, replaying the moments after Elain had given them a crucial clue to finding Hybern.

“Elain here just gave us the most wonderful news.”

Mor and Feyre turned their eyes to her, asking with eyebrows to repeat what she had just said.

Elain looked just as confused. Only moments before she had been getting hit on by a random guy at the bar, and now, all of her friends were acting as if she had just saved the city from a meteor.

Az saved her from having to sort through what she just told them. “Hybern is hosting an exclusive, high society only fight on Saturday.”

Feyre gasped and Mor’s brows knitted together, this could finally be what they needed to get a leg up on taking the volatile gang down.

“We’re going,” Mor said to Rhys, surprising them all. “We can use our family contacts to get us an invitation to the fight.”

“No,” Feyre interjected, “if he knows who I am, and what I look like,” she gritted through her teeth, “then Hybern and his men know exactly what you two look like.  You’ll never make it past the front door.”

“It’s a masquerade, everyone will be hidden,” Cass informed her, “some people don’t like others knowing what debaucheries they take enjoyment in.”

“I don’t care, if I can’t be out too late or take my shortcuts, what gives you the right to put yourself in danger?”

“It’s our job,” Rhys finally spoke, locking eyes with his girlfriend.

Feyre knew that what her friends did was sometimes dangerous, but never had she been involved in it so much. Or feared for them so much.

The thump of a bag from behind startled her out of her reverie. Cass finally decided to show his face, his normal shit-eating grin right where it should be.

“Well, well, well, look who’s early. Normally I’m the one who has to call you until you drag your ass out of bed,” he drawled, taking in the sweat that had already started to soak through her shirt.

Feyre only rolled her eyes, turning her attention back onto the bag and resumed her rhythm. He moved around to hold it in place for her, the echoes of her punches reaching him on the other side.

“What’s wrong, Rhys not giving it up enough for you?”

Feyre aimed an extra hard punch to the side of the bag, almost driving the breath out of Cass. She could only glare at him, words failing to piece themselves together about how utterly mad she was with all of them for taking this risk.

“What? Are you mad at me for not putting out? You know that’s not my job,” he pushed further, not stopping until she talked to him.

Cass only barely made it out of the way while Feyre whipped her leg around, striking the bag and where he would have been if he hadn’t moved.

“I’m mad because all my friends are overconfident assholes!” she finally spat out, fire burning in her eyes. The heat of her expression made him step away, only a tiny bit fearful that he might not move in time if she aimed another kick at the bag.

“Feyre, we’re only doing our jobs.”

“I know, I know, but I can’t stand by while you put your lives at risk over an event that might not yield any actual information.”

Cass’s face softened, Feyre was mad but only because she couldn’t do anything to help them. She was a civilian and could break a lot of laws getting in their way. Not that attending exclusive, illegal fight clubs was necessarily legal, but Rhys was the chief of police and could authorize a lot of things.

“Hey,” bringing his hands to cup her shoulders, letting her know that he heard her, “I know you don’t like this, but we’re taking every precaution we can so that no one gets hurt. We know their phones will be confiscated at the door, but Rhys managed to get his hands on some new tech, comms that will get past security and keep us in touch with him. We’ll be right around the block to get him and Mor out if things go south.”

Feyre heaved a sigh, nodding. Rhys had demonstrated the tech to her last night in an attempt to calm her fears. It only did the opposite, proving to her that the lion’s den her boyfriend was walking into was much worse than any gang they had busted before.

She forced her face to brighten, to look relieved that they were trying their best to keep everyone safe, but who knew if it would be enough.

They would need a man on the inside, not just observing the fight but there on the ground to keep an eye on all the details hidden in the background.

Feyre and Cass walked into the ring to go a few rounds, half of an idea forming as they grappled, punched, kicked and rolled, with Feyre coming out victorious every time.

Yeah, this could work.

 Rhys straightened his mask for the millionth time, Mor was ready to snap at him if she wasn’t fidgeting in her own ways, checking her phone and recrossing her legs every three minutes.

City lights streamed by their windows. They had gotten only two days to prep for infiltrating this fight, even if they had two months it still wouldn’t have prepared them for the night ahead.

The fight was taking place in a middle-class part of the city, not the upscale city center or the low-income fringes, where one would expect this type of exclusive activity. Unfortunately, it wasn’t anywhere close to where they thought Hybern’s hideout might be, of course, he wouldn’t be stupid enough to hold it there, but they could hope.

Rhys and Mor’s family connections panned out, they had a mutual acquaintance they always seemed to be on the shadier side of high-class society, but nothing that had brought too much attention to him. Lucky for them, he knew exactly when and where the fight was happening, and how to get them on the list with minimal questions asked.

Thankfully they didn’t have to explain themselves to their friend, he always had a sneaking suspicion that the children of the Noctis and Atrium families had a taste for the dark side, even with them being police. Corruption can spread anywhere and Velaris is no exception to the rule.

Rhys knew that Feyre wasn’t happy with him, but he had to do his job. He had to protect his city, and her. He tried to convince her that they would be fine, laying out all the safety precautions they were taking to try to put her at ease.

When he left the house that evening, she didn’t say much, a distracted look glazing her beautiful blue-grey eyes. She still gripped him tightly and held him captivated in a passionate kiss as he was leaving, but she still seemed to be in a faraway place. Maybe it was her way of coping with the danger she perceived.

Mor greeted him when he slipped into the non-descriptive black sedan they rented that night. Anything else that they owned or was from the precinct would get them caught immediately.

“Check, check one-two,” a voice buzzed in his ear. Azriel's’ cool voice was slightly distorted but still clear enough to hear.

“I can hear you,” Rhys confirmed. Mor echoed his response. Looks like the tech Tarquin had loaned them still had a few kinks to work out but would do for tonight.

“Ok, we’re parked on 5th, let us know immediately in you need back up and we’ll get you guys out,” Cass’s voice came through. Around the precinct, he was always ready to crack a dirty joke, but tonight he was the image of a perfect sergeant, alert and ready for danger.

“These comms only work within a five-block radius so try not to go running anywhere,” it was rare to hear Az make anything close to a joke on duty, it was the only thing that betrayed his nerves.

“We’ll stay within range,” Mor confirmed, catching Rhys’s eye with a nod.

Their driver dropped them off at a refurbished warehouse a few streets off from the shopping district they were near. Only a low rumble of noise hinted at the chaos that would greet them once they got through security.

He turned to help Mor out of the backseat, her red high heels, mask and matching dress only looked like it would be impossible to arrest someone in, but the slit up the side allowed for easy movement and access to her gun. Mor had been trained her whole life to exist in heels. Any perp that thought they would get an easy escape from her would-be sorely mistaken.

Rhys felt more comfortable in his three-piece suit, all black on black, oozing wealth and ego. His silver mask offset the ensemble, but still shadowing his trademark violet eyes. It would be easy to blend into the crowd; he was accustomed to adapting to any scenario he needed to.

He waved off the driver and turned to the entrance, there was no room to show hesitation. They had to play the part of the privileged, looking up to no one and nothing but their piles of cash.

Knock. Knock knock…. Knock.

A slot in the door opened, one black eye peering out, glaring at the newcomers.

“Password?” the voice grunted.

“Thorns and roses,” Rhys responded, not bothering to meet the guards’ eye like he was beneath him.

The panel closed and the sound of a heavy blot being undone rattled the iron door. It swung to open inside, causing the muffled noise to now pour out onto the street, a tidal wave of cheering and alcohol.

They stepped into the golden light of the entryway and the door was shoved closed behind them. No easy escape there tonight.

“Cell phones,” the same gruff voice ordered them. Holding out a cotton bag with a tag attached.

“Absolutely not,” venom poured from his gritted teeth. They knew to expect this and brought burner phones instead of their personal, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Cell phones or get out, no special treatment.”

With a look that could’ve crumpled a lesser man, Rhys dropped his phone into the bag, Mor’s soon following.

The grunt gestured for them to proceed to the next room, where the sounds of at least a hundred people seemed to be pouring from.

Turning the corner, a room almost the size of a small warehouse greeted them. In the middle was a caged ring, something out of a WWE match, octagonal on all sides with high chain-link walls.

Platforms tiered around the central ring, dotted with tables and small bars, where masked bartenders served up an endless supply of alcohol to the waiting patrons. Everyone was dressed impeccably, even their masks could have paid a months’ salary of some of the city’s workers.

The place was wrought with wealth, the kind of wealth that caused people to seek thrills that the darker underworld can only offer.

Rhys and Mor wove between tables until they reached one of the bars about midway from the ring. From here they could keep an eye on the door and see most of the room. A gap in the lower platforms led to a hallway where presumably the fighters were waiting to take the stage.

“Whiskey, neat,” he ordered. The well-trained bartender slid him the drink in record time, Hybern hired the best it looked like. Mor got her drink and Rhys paid with a fifty, motioning for them to keep the change.

They turned to the ring, “When do you think the first match will be?” she asked.

Rhys was about the reply when the loudspeakers began to crackle overhead.

“Now it seems,” he said with a small smirk, taking a sip of his drink, the burning liquor sliding down his throat.

“Ladies. Gentlemen. Miscreants. Hybern welcomes you to our exclusive Fight Night. Now is the time to finish placing all bets, it is time to begin!

“We start with the Attor, he came to us from the darkest alleys, fighting his way tooth and nail to earn a place at Roman Hybern’s side. He is known for his black heart and dirty fighting, not someone that you would want to meet on the street,” the announcer finished darkly.

A roar of cheers swept through the room as a black-clad figure stepped out of the hallway and entered the cage. He looked as though he could be young or old, stringy black hair was slicked to his scalp. The Attor was slim with wiry muscles and looked like he had been a caged pet for too long, finally let out to stretch his legs and lash out at anyone who got too close. Rhys shuddered to think about who might be at the end of his broken, grimy nails.

The Attor strutted around the ring, a feral grin splitting his mouth, showing off his cracked, yellow teeth. Despite his filthy appearance, he had a fair amount of support from the crowd. Apparently, this wasn’t the first time Hybern had put on these fights.

“His opponent,” he paused to allow the crowd to quiet down, “a newcomer.” Boos echoed against the walls.

“She appeared out of nowhere, claiming to be undefeated in the ring. If you know who this woman is, someone tell me ‘cause it looks like I’ll be the one dumping her in front of the hospital. She calls herself Cursebreaker, the one who can break anyone’s winning streak.”

More boos chased her out of the hallway and onto the ring. A dark blue cloak hid her form and her face. Rhys almost chuckled, the cloak looked like the one that Feyre wore to the Ren Fest a few years ago, it looks like this fighter had a flair for the dramatic.

The cloak of midnight fluttered to the ground having been whipped off by its wearer.

And that’s when Rhys’ heart stopped.

He knew every curve of her body, even with her hair dyed dark and a full-face mask hiding her features, Rhys knew that was his girlfriend standing in the ring.

[memories-are-mine]

A Thousand Promises

I was just gonna post this on AO3 so if you wanna read it there go for it, but I've decided to post it here too, just out of habit. 

TWs: Implied child abuse, attempted kidnapping (because this is me here)

Minor spoilers for crimes of Grindelwald but who am I kidding you’ve probably seen it already,,, and tbh its barely spoilers.

Summary: Corvus Lestrange catches Theseus and Leta together, and things gradually get worse, but, it ends with a happily ever after. 

Alternate Title: Theseus is a self-sacrificing idiot and Leta isn’t taking any of her dad’s shit, then a bunch of cute promises are made. 

Anyway, enjoy my kittens!! <3

Leta had just finished topping off the champagne into two glasses sitting on the coffee table at the apartment she had moved into just a few days prior. Theseus had helped her find it, helped her move in, even offered to help with rent if she needed it until he could secure her a higher ranking job at the Ministry, instead of the glorified secretary position she had now. The moment she had confided to him how scared she was of her father, and what he would do if he found out about Theseus and Leta seeing each other, Theseus, ever the storybook hero, immediately began seeking other arrangements for her. Now that she was away from her father and her family home, Leta had felt a thousand pounds of fear lift from her shoulders, and she felt so light that it was almost like walking on air

It was only a few months into their courtship, and in all of Leta’s years, she never imagined she’d be in a relationship with Theseus Scamander, but when the doorbell rang, Leta’s heart did a little happy dance in her chest. As it always did when Theseus was around. He was later than he had said he would be, as he often was, but Leta knew firsthand that his job wasn’t an easy one.

She tried to retain her composure as she set down the half-full bottle of champagne on the table between the two glasses but ended up practically skipping to the door like some lovestruck schoolgirl ready for a date, part of her felt ridiculous, but she couldn’t help it. It had been a long time since she had allowed herself to be close with anyone, to care about anyone even just a little bit, that she was almost drowning in the feeling of it.

The door swung open at Leta’s touch, and Theseus came strolling into the room, still in his work clothes, but with his suit jacket folded over his arm and his tie loosened. Leta couldn’t help noticing how tired he looked, the bags under his eyes, the slight hunch of his shoulders like someone had tied a hundred pounds to his back. He was still a knockout despite that, and Leta almost lamented how unfair it was, how he could look so good while obviously being so exhausted, while when Leta didn’t get enough sleep, she looked like she was emerging from a tornado.

When he smiled at her, Leta’s heart soared, though she tried not to show it. But with the soar, there was that leftover apprehension, the leftover fear that had kept Leta Lestrange from being with Newt. The fear that had kept her from being with Theseus for quite some time, however desperately she had wanted to pin him against a corridor wall and kiss him senseless (A hobby she now very much enjoyed). That fear that washed over Leta every time she had broken her family’s strict rules in secret, and she wondered if her father would find out, and she would have to taste his violent wrath.

Leta rose to her tiptoes and gave him a kiss on the cheek hello as she took the coat off his arm. “You’re late, again,” she teased with a smile. “Is seeing me really so dreadful?”

“Leta, I’m so sorry,” Theseus said, and he sounded truly guilty. “I was about to leave to actually get ready and be on time for once, then Travers pulled me into this bloody meeting about magical tax evasion…”

Leta let out a little laugh. “Theseus, I’m only teasing you.” She dumped his coat on the chair as she turned from him. “Though I’m sure Travers droning on about taxes was quite riveting. Must’ve been awfully hard to tear yourself away.”

“Truly, it was the most exciting hour and a half of my life,” Theseus said sardonically as he let out a small laugh, pulling his tie off his neck and tossing it on top of his coat, on the back of one of the three dining room chairs,  leaving him only in a white button-down and navy slacks. “I really am sorry I’m late.”

Leta shushed him as she turned back to face him.  “None of that. I know how important your work is. I don’t mind waiting half an hour if it means your helping to keep people safe, however much I enjoy your company.”

“The problem is, I wasn’t keeping anybody safe unless what seems to be Travers’ greatest fear comes true and turning into an angry badger to avoid paying taxes suddenly becomes the new trend. He talked on for quite a while about that.”

“Has that ever happened before?” Leta laughed.

“Apparently, once, about twenty years ago.” Theseus let out a mirthless laugh as he sank down on Leta’s new sofa, suddenly sounding frustrated. “We have Grindelwald on the loose, and he’s gaining followers every day, and instead of trying to apprehend him, Travers just wants to just pretend he doesn’t exist. Sometimes I’m tempted to just go after Grindelwald myself, no matter how risky.”

Of course, Leta would never betray the Ministry, but punching Torquil Travers in the face became more and more tempting by the minute.  But the declaration about Grindelwald, a statement Theseus made sometimes, shook her no less than it had the dozen other instances in which he’d confided it to her.

“Travers can be so stupid,” she muttered, shaking her head as she sat beside Theseus, who already was halfway through his glass of champagne.“But you can’t go hunting for Grindelwald yourself, Theseus, if he were to get his hands on you…”

“I know, Leta,” Theseus replied, looking thoughtful. “Enough about me.” He looked around the small apartment, slowly taking in a breath. “I haven’t gotten to talk to you as much as I would’ve liked to these past few days. How are you? Your father hasn’t bothered you has he? Is he angry  you’ve left?”

“He doesn’t know, actually,” Leta said, involuntarily tensing at the mention of Corvus LeStrange. “He’s been traveling for the past two weeks, coming back tonight, though I suspect that my father’s servants have informed him already. I don’t think he’ll have anything to say about it.” She hoped not, anyway.

Theseus must have seen the look in her eyes, and leaned toward her on the couch, holding her hand in his. “However he may feel about your leaving, I can promise you that he won’t be taking it out on you. I swear to you I’m going to make sure that he never harms you again.”

Leta wondered what she’d done to deserve Theseus. A man so heroic, so ready to save the world, and so willing to protect Leta. She wasn’t used to having people look out for her. It felt good to be looked out for. She wished she could repay his kindness.

She figured a passionate kiss on the lips was a good place to start.

Theseus returned it eagerly, his hands finding their way to her waist as Leta ran her tongue over his lips, taking pleasure in the gasp that involuntarily formed in the back of his throat. Experimentally, she pressed on his shoulders and he leaned back obediently, his head landing on the decorative pillows of Leta’s sofa.

When Leta broke the kiss, she was practically on top of him, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt as they gazed at one another, Leta was so caught up in the ecstasy of romance that she almost didn’t hear the soft thump that came outside the door. But Theseus heard it too, which meant she wasn’t going crazy.

“What was that?” Leta climbed off of Theseus immediately as he grabbed his wand, which sat on the coffee table next to the champagne. He rose to his feet as the door swung open.

Theseus and Leta looked at each other fearfully, as together they edged toward the door. Theseus’s wand still pointed at the opening. There didn’t appear to be anything or anyone in the doorway, but Leta knew that the door hadn’t opened just because of the wind.

Theseus turned his head to look at her, raising an eyebrow. “What do you think - “

“EXPELLIARMUS!”

Theseus’s wand immediately flew across the room, unattainable as Corvus LeStrange barrelled into Leta’s apartment, the tip of his wand leveled right at them.

Immediately all the thousand pounds of terror came rushing back, making Leta so dizzy that she sank back down on the couch. Theseus went with her, pressing her into his arms.

“LETA LAURENA LESTRANGE!” Her father bellowed, and Leta flinched violently, all thoughts of self-defense suddenly gone. She was unable to think, move for her wand, unable to even scream. “How dare you disobey the rules of my house and my family?” He started toward them and Theseus stood, glaring,  ignoring Leta’s grip on his arm. “First, you leave my house without my permission after refusing to join our family in Grindelwald’s cause. Then… then I find you here… consorting with….with him?” He gestured wildly at Theseus as if he were some kind of disgusting snake. “Theseus Scamander. The enemy, no less! You are a disgrace, Leta, you -”

Theseus started to go for his wand, but Corvus pointed it at Leta. “Try it, Mr. Scamander, and you won’t like the consequences.” Theseus stopped, cut him off, standing protectively in front of her. “You will not speak to her like that, leave her alone!” he snarled. Leta had seen him angry before, but this was different. There was a desperation behind it, like he was ready to try anything to keep her safe.

“Mr. Scamander,” Corvus LeStrange stopped shouting at Leta, moved his wand away from her, which he never would have done under any other circumstance, but this time there was someone else to point it at. Leta choked back a scream as Corvus leveled his wand at Theseus’s heart. “When I first saw you with my daughter I wanted to kill you there and then.” He took a step towards Theseus. “But now that I’ve collected myself a bit, and I recognize you now, I’ve realized that this is a bit of a blessing in disguise. But make no mistake, child.” He whipped back to Leta, careful to keep his wand at Theseus’s heart. “After I deliver your beloved Mr. Scamander you and I will talk.”

“What do you mean?” Leta burst out. “What do you want with him?”

“Shut up!” Corvus shouted at her, and Leta sank back into her silence, her childhood instinct to obey her father and avoid punishment washing over her. “You should be happy, Leta. I recognized him from the photograph I saw at Nurmengard. If I bring Theseus Scamander, the war hero, the Auror, to Grindelwald, he will reward us bounteously. The LeStrange family name will live on forever in legend, among the greatest heroes.”

“You’re not taking him!” Leta gasped. “I - I won’t let you!”

“Hush, Leta, it’s alright,” Theseus said gently, turning away from Corvus for a moment. His gaze lingered on her for a heartbeat, then two. Then, lifting his head and straightening his back, he turned back to her father. Taking another few steps closer, he took a breath and said, “I’ll go without a fight, but you have to swear on your life that you’ll leave her be, or I swear to Merlin that I will -”

“Theseus!” Leta shrieked as her father grabbed his arm roughly, still pointing his wand at his throat.

“SILENCE!!” Corvus Lestrange yelled so loudly that that it shook the walls of the house. “I promised to leave you be, Leta, but do not test my patience.”

“Leta, it’ll be okay,” Theseus promised, though he didn’t sound so sure. “I promise.”

Leta didn’t know at what point during these past four months that she’d fallen in love with him, but through the mix of terror and childhood instinct that was swallowing Leta up, a clear thought burned through her mind. Father is not taking Theseus anywhere.

Leta knew that her father should have left by now, but he was making a show of his control of the whole situation. He made sure she was watching before he muttered a spell, conjuring silvery chains that latched themselves around Theseus’s wrists. Theseus hated being restrained, and he visibly stiffened as the chains bound his hands. That just made her angrier.

While he was distracted, Leta slid a hand behind the bottle of champagne that concealed her own wand, and hid it in her sleeve before she stood to face her father.

“If you’re going to take him.” It wasn’t hard for Leta to sound broken, defeated. Just the way her father wanted it. “At least let me say goodbye.” She lowered her head, trying to look like the obedient daughter that her father had expected of her. Obedience and submission were rewarded. Defiance was punished severely.

She kept her eyes down as her father considered her request. She felt Theseus’s eyes on her. She prayed to every entity she could think of that Corvus wouldn’t see through her facade.

“Very well,” her father decided. “Say your goodbyes, then.”

Impulsively, Leta moved close to Theseus, making sure that he was between her and her father, though every instinct in her body screamed to shove him behind her and throttle her father with her bare hands. She had to conceal her movements, though.

“Leta,” Theseus began, reaching with his shackled hands to touch her face. “I wish-” he paused, seeing her pull her wand. “Leta?”

With her free hand, Leta pulled him down for a kiss, all the while desperately running through her mental list of spells that might be useful in this situation. The first ones that came to her mind were incredibly violent and very much illegal. And however tempting they were, Leta would not use them. She wouldn’t stoop to her father’s level.

Her hand thought for her, and before she knew what she was doing, she raised her wand, she pointed it at her father, shoved Theseus out of harm’s way, and screamed with all the force she could muster:

“FLIPENDO!”

Corvus Lestrange wasn’t expecting it, so he didn’t have time to counter her spell, and Leta couldn’t help but feel a rush of satisfaction as he flew backward across the room, landing hard on the floor. His wand skittered out of his hand, and Leta summoned it into her grip. Using both hands, she grabbed his wand on either end and snapped it in half over her knee, and tossed the pieces on the ground at her feet.

Unfortunately, he recovered quickly, and got to his feet, scowling at them, his eyes holding such fury that it was hard for Leta not to shut down again. But this time, a look to Theseus was all that was required to clear her head.

“Get out,” she snarled. “Never come back or next time I will throw you in Azkaban myself.”

Still glaring at her, her father snatched the pieces of the wand from the floor and started to march out of the room.

“Oh, something else,” Leta said. “If you ever put another finger on Theseus, I swear to Merlin that you won’t like the consequences.”

With that, Leta’s father left, and Leta turned to Theseus and tapped his chains with her wand, muttering the spell that would free him. The restraints vanished immediately and Theseus wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

Leta didn’t trust herself not to start sobbing with relief.

“Are you alright?” He asked her, burying his face in her long brown curls.

“Am I alright?” Leta pulled away from him, looking him in the eye. “Of course I’m not alright! What were you thinking? Do you know what Grindelwald would have done to you if my father had brought you to him?” Even she was surprised by her anger, but Theseus didn’t seem hurt by it. “Don’t you understand?” She said, her voice breaking. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I can’t afford to lose you, Theseus.”

Then, Leta really did start crying. Crying was not something that she did often, and never around anyone but Theseus, but she had seen how Grindelwald tortured his prisoners. Her father had shown her, once, when he had taken them to Nurmengard, acting like it was some grand family vacation. The thought of Theseus in the same pain that those poor people had been through was too much to bear. And the torture that Grindelwald would inflict on Theseus would likely be worse since he was so high-ranking in the Ministry.

“Shh,” Theseus pulled her back into his warm embrace, and Leta could have melted into him. “I’m alright, Leta. We’re alright.”

“What were you thinking?” She sobbed again, her voice muffled slightly by his shirt.

“I promised I would protect you from your father,” Theseus replied, stroking her hair. “And I did what I had to in order to keep my promise.”

“Never do that again,” Leta scolded. “Because I would rather die myself than let you sacrifice yourself for me.”

Before Theseus could come up with some heroic response that would likely make Leta keel over on the spot, she pressed her lips to his, guiding him back so he was sitting on the sofa once again. He pulled her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her, and they kissed until she almost felt okay again.

“So,” she said when they finally broke apart. “Are all Scamanders self-sacrificing, heroic bloody idiots or is it just you and Newt?”

Theseus smiled. “I suppose that’s up for debate.” Then he studied her, and his smile faded a little. “Leta, I -”

“Hush,” Leta placed a finger to his lips. “You’re not going to say anything about sacrificing yourself for me, or protecting me because you care about me. Or any of that noble heroic garbage that I know you want to say. Because I’m making a promise to you, right here, right now. Nobody in Grindelwald’s Army is putting a finger on you if I have anything to say about it, least of all my father, and if I have to give my life to make that happen, I will. Because I love you, Theseus. I really, really do.”

Leta hadn’t meant to make that last declaration, but her head was spinning so fast, and she’d wanted to say those words for so long, that they had just slipped out. Besides, Theseus had spent so much of his life protecting other people, Leta figured it was his turn to be the one protected for once.

Theseus looked taken aback, and for a moment looked like he didn’t know what to say. “I love you too, Leta,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers. “And that’s why I did what I did just then, and why I’d do it again in a minute if it meant protecting you from your father.”

Leta didn’t know what to say to that. She wasn’t used to having this. Having someone like him. “Stay?” Was what she blurted out. Nice one, Lestrange.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“So many promises tonight.”

“I’m going to keep every one of them.” Theseus laid down on the couch, his head on the pillows, just the way they had been earlier. Leta, strangely, had no strong impulse to kiss him just then. She just wanted to hold him, bask in the glory of them just being together. And safe.

So she just pulled him into her arms and laid his head on his chest and not long after, she heard his deep, steady breathing, telling her he had fallen asleep. She followed him not long after, and for a little while, all the evil in the world was lost to dreams.

[aliceslantern]

Beyond this Existence: Counterpoint, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 2

Summary:  After being recompleted, Ienzo vows to do everything in his power to atone for the atrocities he committed in the past. But this life hasn't been easy, and he's plagued with memories and nightmares. When Demyx suddenly reappears, the two discover that they have more in common than they thought, though the secrets in their past might tear them apart. Zemyx (Demyx/Ienzo), post kh3

Read it on FF.net/ on AO3

It kept raining.

Ienzo choked down some food. His stomach was still sour, but he had to stay nourished. And then after that he went back into his room, in search for the copies of the old reports he had written and printed out meticulously. Nothing seemed to be in the right place. How had he been so disorganized?

Ienzo heard muffled conversation in the hallway; Ansem’s familiar deep timbre mixed with Demyx’s slightly higher, younger one. Ienzo gathered what he had and steeled himself.

“I’m all set, Master. I seem to have misplaced some of my papers.” He was so incredibly exhausted. He tried to smile, but it slipped a little when he saw Demyx. It was bizarre to see him in civilian clothing. I am so tired of this life feeling strange. “Shall we get started?”

Demyx looked a little pained, embarrassed, even. “What are you guys up to?”

Ansem looked towards him. “Tying up some loose ends.”

His lip twitched. “Well. Have fun I guess.”

Fun. Ienzo shook his head.

“So you would like to look into the metaphysical behind Sora’s disappearance?” Ansem asked. They started walking towards the lab.

“Yes. I believe I read that, even when Roxas was in simulation, away from this world, his heart was still very much in connection to others’, right?”

Ansem sighed. “That was all discovery in retrospect,” he said. “It… was incredibly callous of me, but for the longest time I did not believe Roxas hada heart. But I know better now.”

“Sora’s heart is special. I know Riku said he no longer feels connected to Sora’s heart, but if I could somehow explore those connections, or at least approximate them in data, then maybe we can trace his presence so far.” He bit his lip. “It’s all very nebulous. But I feel I owe it to them to at least try.”

“That’s my boy,” Ansem said. “Yes. I think that’s a good jumping off point. And luckily we have plenty of data of those connected to Sora.”

“The replicas?” Ienzo asked.

“Quite.”

“Yes. I see.”

It was slow, painstaking work. They had to wait for the data to download from Twilight Town’s terminal to receive Roxas’s, which naturally took time between worlds. Then there was gathering the old Castle Oblivion and World That Never Was research all into one place, unpacking it from tiny .zip files from a thumb drive Even had always carried with him and lent to Ansem. While all this copied, Ienzo pored through what he had on paper. He truly did not know where to begin. Was this all in vain? Was this at all possible?

“You look unwell,” Ansem commented. “It would do you some good to try and banish these anxious thoughts.”

“Thank you, you’ve cured me,” Ienzo muttered without meaning to. His hand shot to his mouth. “I… I apologize for such impudence.”

To his surprise, Ansem was smiling. “You no longer need to be so formal,” he said. “After all we’ve gone through, there is no reason why we can’t talk and joke like equals.”

“I have not earned that privilege,” Ienzo said. He watched the progress bar roll ever so slowly across the screen. The approximate time for completion was hours from now, and the computer’s fans were whirring wildly.

“Then treat it as a favor to me,” Ansem said.

Ienzo’s face burned. He could hardly believe what Ansem was implying. The words were meant to be kind, but they twisted a sort of pain within him. Everything, every little thing, sparked some bizarre emotional reaction.

“You’re doing enough,” Ansem said kindly.

“Maybe that time will come someday,” Ienzo said. “But for now I am not ready.”

“You’ve become quite wise. Yet I hope that you will not forget that you still have the right to grow, and learn, and seek happiness of your own accord. I would not blame you if you chose another path in life. Goodness knows I’ve tried.”

Ienzo floundered. Happiness? A change in profession? Both seemed equally unlikely, and that sat oddly within him. “This is what I know. This is what I love.”

“I’m merely advising that you don’t let any doors close behind you.”

He sighed. “Yes. I suppose.” He glanced back to the clock, feeling antsy. “Well. I did not figure I would have the time, but I may cook dinner for us. It would be good to have everyone in the same room. We’ve been so scattered.”

“I rather like the sound of that. You go on. I’ll make sure things are running smoothly.”

In Ansem’s quarters, he shed his lab coat. Even in the chill, it felt overwarm, and constricting. He tried to lose himself in the ease of cooking. Ienzo allowed himself to make a cake. Thankfully he’d thought ahead to buy the dry ingredients, the vanilla and almond extract. This took skill, and finesse, and the result made people happy. He found the tension within him infinitesimally easing, but all too soon the prep work was over, and all there was left for him to do was watch the roast cook.

He set the broad mahogany table for five and stood at the china cabinet for a moment. To not include Demyx would be rude, and inconspicuous. Ienzo sighed and set a sixth place at the table.

Once he had set out all the food, he set about rounding up everyone. It felt good to see their faces when he asked them all to join together. It lifted the weight a little, made the anxiety bearable.

Demyx was farthest away in the castle. He didn’t answer when Ienzo knocked at the door, and at first he wasn’t even sure Demyx was there. But when he opened the door he was curled in the small old bed, fast asleep. Ienzo considered letting him sleep. After all, it would be even ruder to wake him up, wouldn’t it? But then he caught the sharpness of his cheekbones reflected in the light, and could not bring himself to leave. He approached him warily and gave him a gentle shake. “Demyx?”

He stirred, flinching a little.

“I’m sorry to wake you. We’re all having dinner and Ansem was wondering if you might like to join us.”

He rubbed his eyes and sat up. He looked almost as exhausted as Ienzo felt; Ienzo could see the veins through his pale skin. “Yeah. Thanks.” Demyx paused, and then said all in a rush, “I’m sorry if what I said bothered you.”

That caught him off guard. “That’s alright. You meant what you said. You just don’t understand.” How could he? He hadn’t had the same life as Ienzo, the same perspective. He could not be as acutely aware of every little mistake he made. This was Demyx . He was barely aware of his own presence most of the time.

Demyx blinked, looking stung. “No, I guess I don’t,” he said.

They headed up towards Ansem’s quarters. The silence between them was pulling Ienzo taut. He could reach for small talk--but what was there to say?

They passed through the raggedly breezeway. A smoky-smelling wind blew through the curtains, ruffling the old lace.

“Swanky place,” Demyx said cautiously.

Right, he wouldn’t know. “Master Ansem’s quarters. He likes the northernmost light.”

“Why do you call him  “Master”?”

This puzzled him. “Because I am his apprentice, and he deserves respect.”

“Are you, though? I mean, you’ve been doing this all on your own. Feels kinda like he just slipped back into place and took all the credit for the work you did getting Roxas and Naminé new bodies.”

A finger of anger welled in his throat, and he regretted waking Demyx. Against his will, he recalled the day they’d woken Naminé, after hours of preparing and reprogramming the replica. Ienzo had prepared himself to say something to soothe her, knowing very well that to her perspective she was surrounded by three people who had always treated her poorly. But Ansem had spoken to her first. “Not to be rude, Demyx, but if I sought your opinion on the matter, I would ask for it.”

He flinched. “Sorry.”

Ienzo relented. This brassiness was just par for the course for Demyx’s personality, and there wasn’t any offense meant in it. “That’s quite all right.” He pushed open the heavy doors and crossed over to the table, to his seat by Ansem’s side. He could see Demyx looking at the space and for a moment saw it anew, the simple opulence of it, and yet its state of disrepair. He seemed shy, unsure of himself, and finally settled down at the last empty space.

“Sorry. I didn’t know I was holding you all up,” Demyx said.

“No harm, no foul,” Ansem said. “Please, everyone. Help yourselves.”

With their recent conversation in mind, Ienzo couldn’t help but feel a slight ping of frustration. Ansem had not spent the day cooking. But these were his quarters; by default, he was the host.

They all ate. The awkwardness in the air was obvious. They hadn’t all gathered like this in a long while, nearly since they’d reunited. Nobody seemed to know quite what to say. At least the meal had come out okay. Between bites, Ansem advised him of the progress of the downloads; some of the files were corrupted, so he was going in by hand to see what he could recover.

“Who made this?” Demyx asked. “Everything’s really good.”

Ienzo turned away, trying to remind himself to be patient. It was a compliment, after all. “That would be me. Thank you, Demyx.” He did look like he truly appreciated it.

Even recommended a certain file conversion which might recover some of the corrupted data. They talked about the efficacy of this for a little while. The unexpected familiarity of the conversation eased the knot inside Ienzo’s breast. Maybe they just needed time to readjust to each other. It wasn’t completely hopeless. But there was so much bitterness, so much regret and guilt, that it seemed to choke the air.

Plates empty, he started to clear the table for the cake. But to his surprise, Demyx offered to do it for him. Ienzo nearly refused, but there was a strange, unreadable glint in Demyx’s eye. “The kitchen is through that door there.”

Even raised his eyebrow. “Would you look at that.”

“He does seem a touch uncomfortable,” Dilan said. He sipped at the sweet wine that was a favorite of Ansem’s. “It is odd. We can’t pretend it isn’t.”

“This is his home now, as much it is any of ours,” Ansem said. “We must all be patient with one another, and welcoming to our guest. Even if this situation is… unorthodox.”

“Yes,” Ienzo agreed. His voice sounded more affable than he felt. “Are we feeling ready for dessert?” Seeing the affirming nods, he crossed back to the kitchen for the cake.

Demyx’s left hand was covered in blood.

“What on earth--” he started.

Demyx spoke carefully, though his teeth. He gripped his elbow tightly. “Knife in the sink. There’s no towel or anything--”

Right--he’d brought all the linen down to be washed earlier. “That must’ve been my mistake. I am so sorry.”  He glanced around quickly to find anything to staunch the blood, but there wasn’t a scrap of fabric or paper. He untied his ascot. He had several more, and could very easily make some from his younger self’s clothing. But Demyx didn’t take it.

For the first time Ienzo fully recognized the wild, desperate look in his eye from earlier. He’d never seen it on a person other than himself. The kitchen, well insulated, made it easy to hear Demyx’s shallow, heightened breathing. His hands trembled. He feels it too, Ienzo thought. An odd, but not unpleasant, feeling seeped into his bones. He turned on the tap and guided Demyx’s bleeding hand under it. Thankfully the cut wasn’t as bad as it looked. He bound it tightly. “I think you’re having a panic attack. Try and take a deep breath for me, okay? It’ll be over soon.”

He struggled to do so. Ienzo tried to hold his gaze, knowing all too well how terrifying it was to be in that moment, utterly alone. But doing so was difficult, and he very nearly felt anxious himself. Ienzo took his uninjured elbow and helped him sit.

It took time. He shut his eyes, focusing hard on something. Ienzo hoped whatever it was grounded him. Once his breathing became less audible and forced, Ienzo tried to speak gently. “Was that the first time it happened?”

Demyx couldn’t make eye contact. Ienzo knew that embarrassment well, the shame of losing control. “I had one yesterday.”

And he was also having them often. Again, he felt his resentment and frustration at Demyx unraveling. Things were just as uncontrollable for him. And he didn’t have the same awareness of his own mind that Ienzo did.  “Do you have a history of this happening?”

He shook his head a second time. “I don’t think so. But a lot of that time is hard to remember.”

“What time? When you were human?” That was unusual. Was it a coping mechanism gone awry? Was it something to do with the fact that he’d been a vessel?

He nodded.

Ienzo would have to puzzle this out another time. Speaking of missing memory would only destroy Demyx’s tenuous control. “Do you know what it is that triggered you?” Maybe if he could help him gain an awareness of it, it would help in the future if this happened again.

He was silent for a long moment. “No,” he said at last.

It wasn’t always possible to tell. “That’s alright. None of this readjustment is easy. It’s most likely stress you’re not used to feeling. I don’t think this sort of thing is permanent.” Even as he said the words, he doubted the truth in them.

Demyx’s eyes were glassy. “I’m sorry.”

Ienzo softened a little. “You’ve nothing to apologize for,” he said.

He was withdrawing into himself; Ienzo could see it. He didn’t know if he should stop it, or if Demyx needed it to recover. He stood, cradling his injured hand. “I’m going to go lay down,” he whispered.

He nodded. “You must be exhausted.”

Dazedly, Demyx left. Ienzo watched him go. Part of him wondered if he should follow, but he himself wanted nothing more than solitude after his own attacks, so he let Demyx go. He stretched, picked up the cake, and went back to the table.

“Everything alright?” Dilan asked.

“Demyx was feeling faint. He’s gone to rest.” He took the cover off the simple cake. He would try and save a piece for him.

“I thought he was looking a little peaked myself,” Even said. “He was in hiding an awful long time. It was difficult enough for me to cope when I hid too. I can only imagine.”

“Well, your sacrifices are not in vain,” Ansem said. “Here’s to a full recovery.”

When Ienzo ate, the sweet cake tasted like paste.

[lifeofyellowpearl]

Yellow Pearl Runs An Errand (Part 1)

We were well into the year and things have not been looking up. This year was projected to be worse than the last but even still, we weren’t expecting things to be this bad. This was the tenth consecutive year that things turned out worse than expected. My Diamond really wanted to address this and hopefully pull us out of this recession. It is for this reason that My Diamond was at the Homeworld Central Archive which contained extensive records of our empire dating all the way back to decimal year 100. My Diamond wanted to sift through records between 5500 and 6500 (around the time when our empire was at its pique). It was also around the time when Pink Diamond was shattered.

Now our empire has existed for millennia. In that time, much rapid technological advancement has been made. While that is largely a good thing, this means that the old file formats are not compatible with our current systems. Consequently, older files cannot be directly transferred via the central network. The files that My Diamond wanted were stored in a drive that had to be hand-delivered from the main library. The Zircons who oversaw the library were supposed to have sent it by now. They were already several minutes late.

“Oh for heaven’s sake,” My Diamond said, “What is taking them so long? Pearl, contact the library and find out what’s going on.”

“Yes, My Diamond.” I opened up a holo-screen and contacted the central library. It rang for a good while before someone finally answered.

I recognized the gem who appeared on my screen: Zircon cut-99, the archive’s head librarian. She looked positively drained. “Oh, um hello. I…just…one second. “She was looking around frantically; I assumed she was rapidly shifting her attention between several different holo-screens that she had open. She could barely focus on what she was saying. "I am assuming this is about the…um…the…old records that My Diamond has ordered?”

“Yes, I am.” I replied sharply, “Is this a bad time?” I made sure to convey a sense of authority and frustration when addressing this Zircon. Not only had she not fulfilled My Diamond’s request but now she was disrespecting the diamond line by failing to provide the full and undivided attention that My Diamond deserved. “I’ll let My Diamond know that you are not ready to–”

“No! No! No! No! No!” I smirked as I saw that familiar wave a panic come over 99. There is nothing I love more than correcting a gem who has forgotten her place. “My apologies! I was just…” 99 began wildly flailing her arms. I assumed that she was rapidly closing tabs and muting conversations that she had open. Once she was done, she took a breath, “Now, those records…”

“It has already been several minutes since the order was placed.” I said, intentionally cutting her off, “My Diamond would like to know when the drive will be sent down.”

“Right, um, about that. Our teleportation pads have been acting up lately and we will not be able to send them until they are repaired. We thought that they could have been ready by now but–”

“Then send someone down to hand deliver them. My Diamond is waiting.”

“Well, we can’t really do that…” 99 trailed off as she took note of my disapproving glare, “I mean it’s just that, we already have a lot of deliveries being made right now and all of our couriers are out. But once one returns, we will send her out immediately.”

“Oh, what’s wrong now, Pearl?” My Diamond sounded vexed but unsurprised. At this point, it was almost normal for things to consistently go wrong.

“Well, it would seem that this Zircon is unable to fulfill your request.”

Another wave of panic came over 99 much to my amusement. "But that’s not what I said!” Exclaimed a flustered 99, “We can fulfill the request, it’s just that-”

“Enough,” My Diamond let out a sigh of resignation. She sounded more exhausted than angry, “if you are unable to deliver the drive then I will send my pearl to pick it up. Just know that I’ll be taking notes of your incompetence.”

“Yes, My Diamond. My sincerest apologies, Zircon out.”

I was practically trembling when I heard My Diamond say that. Words could never describe how much I hate being apart from My Diamond. When I am around her I can address gems with ease but when she and I are apart, I don’t even know how to describe it. It’s like a small piece of me is left behind and I just feel hollow. What little confidence I have is gone.

“Pearl, I’m sending you a map of the facility and… oh, you know the drill. Just be back as soon as possible.”

A part of me really wanted to object; only because I really didn’t want to leave My Diamond. But I didn’t have a choice. “Yes, My Diamond,” I said with trepidation. I opened my holo-screen and brought up the 3D map that My Diamond had sent. The route I was to take was highlighted. If I veered too far off course, I would be poofed by the sentries. Not that My Diamond had to worry. I had no intention of staying apart from her longer than I had to.

I opened the office door and stared down the hallway that led into the main lobby. It felt as though I were standing at the entrance of a gauntlet. I took one step through the office door and practically jumped when it shut behind me. That was it, I was on my own. Come on you damn stupid coward, I thought to myself, you always do this when running errands. Just go to the library. Get the drive and get back to Your Diamond. I took a deep breath and made my way down the hall. Despite my best efforts to remain calm, my anxiety gradually increased as I got closer and closer to the main lobby and further and further from My Diamond. I couldn’t help but castigate myself for this. Stupid coward. Stupid coward. Stupid coward. Over and over, that phrase was running through my mind.

When I reached the end of the hall and stepped out into the main lobby, I felt completely off balance, as though I could fall over at any moment. Sensations of vertigo have always been an issue for me when I’m apart from My Diamond and being in such a wide, open room only made it worse. Thankfully, gems here were relatively sparse. I took note of the few gems populating the area. Most were walking with faces buried in their holo-screens. Others were seated at tables throughout the lobby, engaged in their own conversations. I took solace in the fact that they likely wouldn’t notice me. All I had to do was get to the elevator on the other side of the lobby. It seemed easy enough. I decided to pull up my own screen and focus on my 3D map. I figured if I focused on my screen, I could pretend that the other gems weren’t here.

It did little to help. As I made my way across the lobby I couldn’t help but feel as though the gems around me were looking at me. Judging me.

They are judging you, I thought, they’re probably thinking about what a worthless clod you are. I mean look at you! You’re a worthless excuse for a gem and everyone knows it!

I hastened my pace. I wanted to get out of there as soon as I could.

  Yeah, that’s right, walk faster! As if they won’t notice.

Damn it! The elevator was just units away, yet it may as well have been kilo-units!

Do you remember that time when you tripped while introducing Your Diamond? They all remember. Everyone remembers. They’re laughing about it right now!

I practically ran into the elevator door when I reached it. I fumbled with the elevator buttons before I finally managed to press it. The doors opened and I hurried inside.

I was slightly relieved when the doors closed. I took a moment to recompose myself and choose my floor on the elevator keypad. When the elevator began to move, I felt a surge of frustration well up within me. I punched the wall and braced my hands up against it. Idiot. What was that? You’re an anxious wreck. You always have been. What is wrong with you? Why are you like this?

My inner tirade was cut short when I felt the elevator slowing down. I quickly pulled myself together and cleared my eyes of any tears. The elevator slowed to a stop and the doors opened. I all but froze when I saw who was coming on: Lapis Lazuli cut-528. Her eyes narrowed when she saw me. Instinctively, I put my head down as she stepped into the elevator with me. She was silent, yet I could almost feel the animosity radiating from her. I don’t know why, but just being around 528 sent my mind into overdrive. I stood, motionless, stoic in appearance. But on the inside, it felt as though I was drowning in a maelstrom of fear, anxiety, and relentless self-flagellation. I did everything I could to calm myself but nothing worked. Among the noise, a familiar phrase was sounding off, Stupid clod!  It sounded off, again and again, growing progressively louder with each malicious declaration, Stupid clod! Stupid clod!! Stupid clod!!!

“You know I could see you.” At the sudden sound of 528’s voice, I froze. Everything froze. The inner tumult subsided, replaced by a deafening silence.

I attempted to respond without lifting my head. I could barely speak above a whisper, “I-I’m sorry?”

“I saw you, in the background with that stupid smirk on your face when Yellow Diamond was digging into me.” She must have been referring to the reprimand she received for that storm incident on H3K. For me it was something of a fond memory “Tell me,” she said, “Did you enjoy the show?” Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. My Diamond had all but dressed her down in front of her entire company and I enjoyed every moment of it. Far too often, this proud gem forgets her place. I only wished My Diamond had done more to strike her ego down. But I could never express this. Not here, not now.

I could hear her stepping toward me until she was just centi-units away. If she meant to intimidate me, then it was working.

“Look at me.” She commanded.

I kept my head down, unable to move.

“A Lapis Lazuli is giving you an order, Pearl.” She said to me in a mocking tone. I hated this. I hated everything about this. But she was right. She outranked me. In this scenario, I was not representing My Diamond. I was just a lowly pearl in the presence of an irate superior. I turned and looked up at her. I can’t even describe how frightening her aspect was. She towered over me with the most hateful scowl. I began to tremble. No, I thought, don’t do that. Stop trembling. Damn you! Stop trembling.  My body wouldn’t listen. My commands only backfired as I began to tremble even more. When she saw how intimidated I was, how afraid of her I was, she smiled. Then she started to chuckle. And then she began to laugh. I really hate being laughed at.

“Wow, you are so pathetic!” She said, “You really are nothing more than a scared little gem masquerading as someone who’s worth a damn. I mean, you’re a pearl. You do realize that don’t you? You’re a cipher whose worth is so minuscule that’s it's hardly even worth measuring.”

An amalgam of terror and rage began to stir within me as this lazuli berated me. Her words struck a chord. Indeed they rang true. I am a coward, I am a fraud, I am worthless, and I am pathetic. I know these things about myself. I know all too well just how worthless I am. And I remind myself of these undeniable truths every day. And yet, as much as I’m resigned to hearing these things from my own self, I hated hearing them from someone else, especially someone as arrogant and loathsome as 528. I really wanted to hurt her. I wanted to fire back, but I couldn’t. Like 528 said, I’m just a pearl.

When she noticed my eyes glistening she scoffed at me and shook her head, “worthless little pearl. That’s all you are and that’s all you’ll ever be.” The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. Thoroughly satisfied, 528 turned away from me and stepped off. The doors closed and the elevator continued upward. When 528 left, so too did the fear that she struck in me, leaving me with a vindictive and unbridled rage so palpable that I could feel it in my chest. Within moments, my mind was awash with vengeful fantasies. I actively engaged in fantastical scenarios wherein I upbraided that damnable lapis, completely destroying her sense of self-worth as well as scenarios wherein I struck her down and even shattered her where she stood. That worthless gem! I thought, Damn her! Damn her to death! Why if My Diamond were here…

The elevator came to stop and the doors opened once again. As I stepped out and into the hallway, the anger that I felt had completely dissipated, replaced by a numbing melancholy. It was a straight shot to the library from here; I could see the entrance from here. I dragged my feet as made my way there. I knew that My Diamond needed those records as soon as possible but I could bring myself to move any faster. It felt as though I were weighed down. ‘If My Diamond were here…’ What do you mean ‘If My Diamond were here…?’ I thought to myself, If Your Diamond were here, she would admonish you for harboring such audacious thoughts. Seriously, how dare you? A pearl having vengeful thoughts about a lapis! Stupid clod. You really are a stupid idiot worthless excuse for a gem.

“I know.” I whispered, “I know…I know…I know…” I instinctively grabbed my wrist. I really wanted to hit myself. But I couldn’t do that here. Not where someone might see. There was a sentry floating in front of the archive door. When I got close it scanned my gem to assure that I had the proper clearance. Once I was confirmed, the doors opened.

Author’s Note: This one ran a bit longer than I was anticipating.  Apparently, Tumblr has a text block limit (100 for those who don’t know) so I learned something. So I had to split this.

[roobierubyroobieruby]

I Was Happier (Part 8 - Final)

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 1,883 (I gave up trying to keep them small - I have no self control apparently)

Warnings: ANGST, sad!Loki, angry!Loki?, basically just a lot of angst…sorrynotsorry

Summary: You had been in love with the God of Lies and Mischief since you could remember, standing by him through everything. When he was brought back by Thor to answer for his attempts to take over Midgard, you couldn’t take anymore. You left both him and Asgard, behind for a life on Midgard to heal your broken heart. Now you’re gone, he realizes he’s missing more than his best friend, and he needs to fix what he broke, starting with finding you.

A/N: You guys, this is it. The final chapter is here (@sanjariti​). I cannot thank you enough for your patience and I am sorry for how long this took to arrive. I finally caught a break with uni - even if it’s momentary! Thanks to @isaxhorror​ for her gif addition in the previous chapter that led to the start of this one! I also decided this can be one big giant chapter because I feel like you all deserve it after waiting for so long. Thank you for coming on this journey with me, I love you all xx

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7]

Previously: The smell of you intoxicated him more than any Asgardian alcohol could, the feeling of you wrapped safely in his arms brought a comfort he didn’t realize he had been longing for. He felt your arms slip around him, resting against the small of his back just as they used to.

As quickly as his comfort came, you snatched it away when you pulled back, pushing against his chest.

“You asshole! How dare you come here, crash into my life and then run away! Especially after what you did to me! What’s your problem!?”

But I guess you look happier, you do

My friends told me one day I'll feel it too

I could try to smile to hide the truth

But I know I was happier with you

Baby you look happier, you do

I knew one day you'd fall for someone new

But if he breaks your heart like lovers do

Just know that I'll be waiting here for you

Loki’s mouth fell open, his hands raising to grab your arms. “Surprise…” His voice trailed off, lips forming a hard line in preparation for another verbal onslaught. Your hand appeared in front of his face, your head furiously shaking back and forth.

“No.” You deftly stepped out of his grasp, your eyes diverting to the floor as his hands dropped to his sides.

You shoved your hand into his chest, a hint of satisfaction mingling with regret as he stumbled back. “You can’t come after me tearing into my life just because you’re bored Loki! I’m done being your plaything! I thought that was abundantly clear in our last encounter!” With a final shove, you swirled on your heel, grabbing for the door, hot tears already staining the collar of your emerald coat.

He reached for you without hesitation, grasping your upper arm gently just enough to halt you in your tracks. He could feel the small shudders of your inner turmoil, the need to cry being smothered by your fear to let any vulnerability show, lest he find a way to exploit it.

After a second, the two of you frozen in a place of uncertainty, he slowly pulled you back towards him, turning you to face him. Without a word, he encircled you in his arms, his hands coming to rest in their familiar spots on your back and head. His slow, soft strokes through your hair almost made you feel whole again.

He never ushered a word, fear coursing through his veins that if he spoke, this moment of shared comfort would break and he would lose you again. Your hands were curled against his chest, his coat lapels wound tightly in your fingers. Even if you hated him with every fibre of your being, in this moment he was exactly what you needed.

Neither of you spoke or moved for an indeterminate amount of time, until you pulled away from his embrace, stepping around him to sit on the edge of his bed. He couldn’t help but hope that somehow you knew deep down that it was his you had chosen, habit taking over to gravitate you to the one place you felt most comfortable besides your own dwelling.

“Why are you here, Loki?” Finally, you met his eyes again, your voice barely a whisper. His heart hammering wildly in his chest, brain barely registering the question, as he was too taken with the red speckling on your cheeks from the cold giving your lips a pink flush, to focus to your words. He had never felt such an urgency to feel the softness of your lips on his before.

He moved silently through the space between you, sitting on Thor’s bed and leaning forward onto his elbows. “I wanted to see you.” Even he heard the uncertainty in his voice, the trepidation. The feelings rising in his chest were almost unexplainable; a mixture of fear, hope, joy, sadness, and grief.

He watched you toy with the ring on your right, ring finger. Shockwaves coursed through him, the ring a glaring reminder that you had not moved on regardless of what he’d seen of you mere hours earlier. The three shining emeralds, encircled with diamonds on a pristine gold band, glistening in the low light of the room.

“You still wear the ring I gave you.” He was careful not to let his surprise show, although the hope coursed through his voice. He watched your eyes rove over the ring, entranced with its beauty.

“You know, it’s been a part of me for so long that I never thought twice about it being on my finger.” He watched it twist around, as if you were deciding whether now is the time to think twice.

“I’m glad you didn’t take it off. I’ve missed you.” The words tumbled out of his mouth before his brain registered the thought.

You turned your head to stare at the wall, clasping your hands together. “You missed the girl in love with the God who…” Your voice grew soft, cracking slightly as you fought to maintain your composure, “who did not love her back?” Your head dropped once more, your fingers twisting the ring.

He ached to close the distance, to feel your warmth against his skin. To stop your pain, take it away and make it his own, as it always should have been - his burden alone to bear.

“That’s not...that’s not true.”

He watched your eyes slide over to his, your lips parting ever so slightly that he barely registered your shock.

“What isn’t true, Loki?”

His throat was dry, words were failing him.

“What isn’t true?” You stood up, clenching your fists.

“You know what I mean.” His voice had taken on his usual, defensive tone tone, challenging and deflecting your probing questions in favour of a conversation he could control.

“Don’t pull that shit with me. You tell me now or I walk out that door and you will never see me or hear from me again. I mean it.” Your voice had risen, demanding the answers you deserved yet Loki was scared to admit.

He leapt up, striding towards the window to stare out into the darkness. He took pleasure in watching the leaves swirl across the street, no direction or need to be anywhere but where the wind took them. He placed his hands on the windowsill, breathing out his frustration with himself.

“I love you.” He let the words hang in the silence, their implications opening the door to a world of possibilities. There was no turning back. The silence was deafening.

“I have loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you. Every step you walked, I wanted to be right beside you forevermore. I would have followed you across galaxies, you wouldn’t of even had to ask, I would have begged you to let me stay by your side. I never realized how much I needed you until you were gone, until you took my heart with you. It’s easy to think of an organ as inconsequential when it works ever so quietly keeping you alive, until the time when it isn’t. You are my organ, my heart. You keep me alive, you keep me breathing, and without you I have been bleeding out, my world nothing but cold.”

He turned his head slowly, fearful to see the emotions dancing across your features.

“I have always loved you, I was just too blinded to see that my love for you was the strongest part of me. I thought if I set you free then you would be free of my burden. I saw the way the darkness of my existence snuffed out your light, the way you would hold yourself together just for my sake. I decided no more, but I knew you wouldn’t leave unless I took away your reason to stay.”

Slowly, he began closing the distance, your eyes tracking his every movement through the tears.

“So I tore myself out of your life. I thought I was strong enough to do that for you, the one decent act I could do as a God, but I am weak. You make me weak. Without you, I am not here, I am not anything but a shadow and I cannot bear this existence anymore. I need you, I need light in my life, I need my heart by my side, where you should have been as my wife from the moment I could ask you. I love you.”

Kneeling down in front of you, he took your face in his hands, wiping his thumbs over the trails of tears down your cheeks.

“Please, say something.”

Your breath was shaky, your knuckles white, as you struggled once more to hold yourself together. All he tried to do was save you, and yet he had broken you again and again for what feels like his own selfish needs.

“You can’t do this to me, Loki. I was finally starting to feel happy here, to fix myself, and you’ve just strolled in and handed me everything I ever wanted. Yet I never imagined it would hurt like this.”

You gently slipped his ring off your finger, holding it in the palm of your hand.

“You’ve said everything I’ve wanted, no, needed to hear since the day we met. But after everything you’ve done, everything that has happened, I can’t just fall back into you. I need to think about what’s best for me, and I can’t do that with you. I’m sorry.”

He ran his finger lightly across your lips, nodding. “I will be waiting for you. I will wait however long it takes. I have loved you my entire existence, and I will continue to love you even when I am nothing but particles. I will return to Asgard, but you will know where to find me. I love you. Forever by yours, forever by mine.”

At the familiar words, a pained smile appeared for barely a second before it was overwhelmed by the memories of those words. You clasped his hands in yours, folding the ring into his palm before kissing his cheek. You raced to the door, the slam not loud enough to cover the sobs as you ran from him again.

Loki sat on the floor, staring at the ring in his palm. He meant every word. He will wait.

You stared out over the field, the heat of Asgard’s setting sun warming your skin for the first time since you had run from this place. You closed your eyes, letting the colours dance across your eyelids, revelling in the wind running through your hair like a lost lover rediscovered once more.

When you finally opened your eyes, breathing in the crisp air, you saw him standing with his back to you, hands clasped behind his back. You could practically hear his thoughts from here, see the tension in his shoulders, as you moved towards him without even thinking, drawn to him like you were drowning and he was your freedom.

When you finally stood beside him, you noted the way the sunlight shone in his eyes, lighting them up like the beacon to bring you home.

“I knew you would come.” He leaned down to whisper in your ear, resting his forehead against you.

“Forever by yours, forever by mine, remember?” You turned into him, slowly reaching up to cup his face. The tears in your eyes blurred your vision as you closed the distance between you. Softly, your lips met, the warmth radiating through you more than any sunlight could, as if he awakened a part of you that had frozen in place. You both moved in tandem, as if this was how you had been your entire lives, knowing how the other would move before they did.

When you finally broke apart, you traced the streaks down his face, studying his features like this was the first time truly seeing him. The glinting gold of your ring appeared in your periphery, tenderly held up between his fingers. Your heart swelled as you nodded, the joy healing every broken piece of your souls.

“Always.” Watching as he slipped it onto your left ring finger, you had finally come home.

TAG LIST:

@somethingsweet-almostkind @palaiasaurus64 @papi-chulo-bucky @kimistry27 @big-to-beautiful @fadedsmile911 @melconnor2007 @dawnn-0f-th3-dead @beebossinner @seefandoms @rda1989 @rebbie444 @hayleysangston @chrys-1029 @vesperazylra @colagirl5 @usedtobeabaker @sonia7atm @socialheartbreak @winterwolf57

[mf-despair-queen]

Hard to Get - Thomas

Author: @mf-despair-queen​

Characters: Thomas/Reader

Word Count: 9,016

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Kinky Thomas, Multiple Orgasms, Oral (both receiving), Bondage, Hair Pulling, Public Oral Sex, Masturbation, Thomas’s giant dick pressing into his jeans (cause hot damn we all know it does)

Notes: Some cute lil nonnie said they wanted me to write another Thomas smut. So kinky Thomas it is. Thanks @stilinski-jpeg @minhosmeanhoe and @dylan-trash-tbh for yelling at me to write this so much. Otherwise I would have kept procrastinating. I hope this is worth yelling at me so much. 

You leaned on the shovel, watching Thomas and Minho job by, heading towards the map room to finish their day. Your eyes lingered on Thomas, admiring his beauty from afar. Even from this distance, you could make out the freckles on his perfect cheeks. You saw the sweat dripping down his brow and defined cheekbones from his run. His blue shirt clung to his toned chest and broad arms, accentuating his biceps and abs. His flat, chocolate brown hair shone in the sunlight. You were trying not to drool as the man ran by, essentially ignoring your presence until they disappeared into the map room.

A sigh left your lips, putting your entire weight on the shovel. You couldn’t help being attracted to the runner. Yes, he was a physically perfect, and you wished you could spend hours wrapped in his strong arms. But his personality, the little bit you knew about it, brought him full circle. He cared about everyone in the glade, trying his damnedest to find a way to get everyone out. He always was bright, though maybe not the biggest optimist in the word. Everything about him sent the butterflies in your stomach fluttering.

You were enamored the second he arrived in the box, your eyes locking with him the second the box opened, getting lost his deep, hazel orbs. The moment your gaze locked with his, you felt your heart beating wildly in your chest. You just fell for him harder every day, learning everything you could about it. He was a god, a gift from the creators.

However, he barely knew you existed. He barely spoke two words to you the entire time he’s been in the glade. He never noticed you were present, nearly running you over more than once. And he never apologized for doing so. You felt like he was far away, and no matter how hard you tried, he was not getting any closer. He slipped through your fingers every second of the day.

Newt glanced at your slouching figure, rolling his eyes with a laugh. “You’re eye-fucking him again.”

Nonsensical jabber spilled from your lips in a flash, almost falling over the shovel when your head whipped around to Newt. Your cheeks turned a bright red, your eyes wide. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about! I-I was just…thinking about what slop Fry made for dinner tonight! Yeah, that’s it!”

You let out a nervous laugh, Newt’s head shaking in disbelief. “You’re not very good at lying you know,” he told you, laughing louder.

You glared at him and shoved his shoulder. “I’m not lying! Besides, why would I be eye-fucking Thomas? There is nothing to eye-fuck about him. He’s just a stinky boy with nice arms and a hot body and…” You trailed off, your mind wandering back to the runner that plagued your mind. Newt was rolling with laughter, earning a glare.

“OK, Y/N. Let me tell you a lil something. One, how did you even know I was talking about Tommy? I never mentioned his name. You did.” Your face paled, realizing that he was right. “Two, I know you have a crush on him. You have since we pulled him from the box. You are always watching him, and get depressed when he doesn’t notice you.”

You pouted at him, sitting on a stump nearby. “Am I really that obvious?” Newt nodded. “Then why doesn’t he notice that? Am I just invisible to him? I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know I exist, Newtie.”

Newt ran his hand through his hair, groaning. “I don’t know. I’m not him. Maybe you just need to try harder to get him to notice you.”

You stared at the blonde, unsure what to say. “How the hell would I even do that? He can literally run over me while he is running and doesn’t even mutter an apology. Yet, you want me to try harder to get his attention? Please, Newt. Enlighten me on how to do this.”

Newt gave you a blank stare, one that said “are you serious right now?” He stopped what he was doing, turning his full attention to you. “Seriously? Y/N, need I remind you of one little fact?” You stared at him confused. He let out a frustrated groan. “You’re a girl, Y/N! A hot one at that! Maybe you haven’t been eye-catching enough for him since you dress in guy clothes all the time.”

“They’re comfortable to work in. It’s not my fault,” You muttered stubbornly.

Newt rolled his once again, leaning towards you. “All I’m saying is, maybe you should put on a little bit of feminine charm. Use your features to catch him off guard. Give him a reason to look.”

You sighed, nodding. “I guess so. But what do I do after that? Wouldn’t I seem…easy if I do that?”

Newt backed away, a grin on his face. “Then don’t be easy, love. Play hard to get.” He straightened his clothes, turning to head towards the tool shed to put away his shovel. “Think about it while you get cleaned up for dinner. Fry should be ringing the bell soon.”

You watched Newt walk off, contemplating what he said.

“Play hard to get…”

You adjusted your shirt for the millionth time that day, glancing down at the cleavage that normally was hidden under a baggy shirt. You, regrettably at this point, took Newt’s advice and put on clothes that showed your curves.

The tank top was tight, hugging your upper body perfectly. You found the sexiest bra you owned, surprised it wasn’t ruined from your days in the glade. It made your breasts look perkier than normal, pushing them up to the point that the tops nearly slipped out. Your jean shorts were shorter than you remember them being, and you knew your ass hung out every time you bent down to gather plants.

You partially wished that you didn’t listen to Newt. You knew the guys around the glade were distracted, feeling their eyes lingering on your form all day. It was like they had never seen a girl before or something. You knew this was an abnormal look for you, but the stares were getting ridiculous.

Your eyes locked on the distant figures emerging from the gaps in the walls, Thomas and Minho making their normal trek towards the map room. You stood up straighter, tugging the shirt down to let your breasts show more, releasing a nervous sigh. You hoped that Thomas would at least glance in your direction on his way by.

The two boys jogged by, Minho passing a small wave on his way by. Thomas turned to see who he was waving at, his eyes immediately scanning your body. You fought to hide the blush, waving back at them. You saw Thomas’s mouth fall open, his eyes fixated on you. He obviously lost focus, because he tripped over his own feet, crashing hard in the grass.

You dropped your shovel, rushing to the aid of your crush. “Thomas! Are you okay? Do we need to take you to the medjacks?” You leaned over him, your ass sticking out and your breasts spilling over the edge of your tank top. Thomas let out a groan, rolling onto his back. His eyes slowly opened, meeting yours momentarily before they drifted down your body. A pink hue dusted his cheeks as his eyes locked on your tits. “Thomas? Answer me, please.”

He stuttered, trying to find the right words, still staring at your chest. “U-um yeah. I could probably use a medjack.”

You grinned down at him, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “No problem!” You turned away, glancing around the glade until you found the boy you wanted. You purposefully stuck your ass out for Thomas to see, hunching forward to call out to the boy. “Hey Chuck! Come help Thomas to the medjacks!”

Thomas was flabbergasted. “What? Y-you’re not going to take me yourself?”

You glanced at him over your shoulder and smiled. “Of course not. I have a job to do still.” You didn’t give him a chance to respond, skipping your way back to Newt. Newt shook his head, seeing the grin on your face.

“Savage, love. Savage. Didn’t think you had it in you,” Newt said, giving you a wink. You flipped your hair over your shoulder, cocking your hip to the side, a hand placed upon it.

“Ye of so little faith, Newtie. Thomas will never know what is coming to him.”

Newt laughed. “Well, whatever works. Anything to get you to stop drooling over him whenever he is running by. Now, do us a favor,” he paused, tossing a basket at you. “Go fetch us more fertilizer.”

You groaned at your friend. “Why me? Why can’t Zart do it?” Newt gave you a look, no words necessary as you turned to leave. “Fine. I guess I will be a good girl for once.”

You headed off into the deadheads, grumbling about the job at hand. You didn’t know why Newt ever made you do this. This was obviously not a job for a girl.

A twig snapped behind you, turning towards the sound instantly. You couldn’t make out anyone in the trees, the only noise in your ear being your rapid heartbeat from the scare.

“Hello?” You hollered, glancing around more. “Is anyone there?” When you received no response, you spun on your heel to head towards the fertilizer. You didn’t expect to come face to face with Thomas, the basket falling from your hands to the ground. “Holy shit, Thomas! You scared me! What are you doing here? I thought Chuck took you to the medjacks.”

Thomas ran a hand through his hair. “They dismissed me pretty quick. No damage done. I saw you heading here as I left. It’s dangerous in the deadheads, so I thought I would come protect you.”

You smiled, bouncing on your toes in delight. “Aw, you’re so sweet Thomas! You didn’t have to do that.”

Thomas blushed slightly at your happy form. “W-well, I know I didn’t. But I wanted to.”

Your mind was reeling, trying to figure out exactly how to approach him. You didn’t want to seem willing to have him around, but you didn’t want to tell him to go away and give him the wrong idea. What was a good balance to show you were thankful he was here, but would leave him wanting more?

It clicked in your mind, your feelings a mix of joy, excitement and nervousness. You twirled some hair on your finger, strutting forward towards him. Thomas took a step with each step you took, his back colliding with a tree. You put your hands on his chest, looking up into his eyes.

“Well, how can I ever make It up to you, Thomas?” You bat your eyelashes at him, watching his honey eyes darken slightly. He licked his lips, arousal pooling between your legs as you watched his tongue pass over them. Running your fingers along his chest and biting your lip, you pushed yourself against him harder. “Please tell me, Thomas.”

“Well um…” he paused, clearing his throat. “What did you have in mind?”

You grinned at him, trailing your fingers down his chest towards his jeans. “Well, I have a few things in mind that I might be able to do.” You let your fingers trace the outline of his cock that was pressing hard into his jeans, giving it gentle squeezes through the material. He fought to hold back his moans, failing miserably every time he felt the pressure you applied. “You don’t have any objections, do you?”

He shook his head vigorously, his breathing increasing. A large smile grew on your lips, your fingers popping the button on his pants. Leaning up to his ear, you nibbled on his ear lobe, whispering in a seductive tone, “Good. Try to keep it down, or the rest of the guys might hear you.”

You disappeared from his line of sight, carefully getting on our knees in front of him. One quick tug was all it took to pull his jeans and boxers down, his cock springing free from its confines. You gaped at the sight, realizing how big his cock was. You briefly wondered how he was able to hide it all the time.

You gave his cock a few gentle strokes, feeling it harden in response. You grasp it in your hand, brushing your fingers over the swollen tip. Precum oozed from it, a layer of the salty sweet liquid coating your fingers. Thomas leaned his head against the tree, his fingers twisting in your hair. “Please, Y/N. Do something.”

You silently cheered at his begging, knowing you had succeeded in something with this plan. Your tongue wet your lips, lightly brushing against him as it made its rounds. Thomas didn’t stifle his moan, the noise drifting through the endless trees of the deadheads. You cast your eyes up at it, giving him a pointed look.

“Thomas, what did I tell you about being quiet?”

He sucked in air quickly, trying to straighten his stance against the tree. “It’s a little hard when you’re down there.”

You laughed, his eyes glancing down to meet yours. “Tommy, I have barely started with you.”

You didn’t wait for a response, your mouth closing around his entire length. You had to resist the urge to gag, his cock twitching spontaneously against your cheeks.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled, his hand gripping your hair tighter. He felt your tongue running over the length of his cock, licking along the underside. His teeth bit into his lip to muffle his moans, waves of heat coursing through his entire body. “Shit, Y/N. You feel so good. Keep going.”

You obliged, hollowing your cheeks as your tongue focused on swirling around his tip. Your hand gripped what wasn’t between your lips, fluidly pumping the enter length. Thomas’s moans occasionally passed through his lips, curses muttered between each breath he took.

His nails scraped at your scalp, guiding your head to pump his cock in your mouth. Your moans vibrated along his dick, sending every nerve into a frenzy. Your tongue flicked over a throbbing vein, his hips thrusting forward with a grunt. You smiled to yourself, knowing this was the sensitive spot on his dick.

You continued to run your tongue along the vein, letting one hand cup his balls. You fondled them gently, softly rolling them between your fingers. The combination of your tongue stroking his cock and your hand caressing his balls was overwhelming, his mind going blank aside from the fireworks he felt exploding throughout his body. His body ached with desire, his limbs shaking with excitement. These little reactions fueled you, your speed increasing, your grip tightening around him.

You gave one giant suck, tugging on his giant, twitching cock with your lips. You pressed it deeper inside, letting the tip hit the back of your throat. A deep groan ripped through your throat, sending Thomas sailing. He let out a loud moan of your name, his body jerking forward. A wave of pleasure swelled inside him for a single second before he released into your mouth, relief overcoming his body. His hot seed shot down your throat, the salty liquid sliding down your throat easily. You happily lapped up the juices, savoring every last drop he had.

Thomas slowly relaxed against the tree, his eyes slowly dropping down to watch you pull from his cock, licking your lips clean of any of his juices that escaped. You smile up at him, helping him fix his pants before standing up. You brushed the dirt and leaves off you, Thomas straightening his clothes out.

He looked at you, a smirk placed on his lips. “So, how about we head back to your room? You have a room to yourself since you are the only girl, right?”

You blinked, shocked that he even knew that. Until today, you were sure he didn’t know you existed. He didn’t have enough time to find that out between his fall earlier and stalking you into the deadheads. So, how did he know about your room?

“Um…yeah I do. But maybe another time? I still have to get the fertilizer for Newt. But this was fun Tommy. See you around.” You gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and a wink before running off quickly, leaving Thomas standing alone with his jaw wide open in disbelief.

Within the week, you knew he was getting desperate for you. You continued playing hard to get after that day in the deadheads, enacting something new every day.

On the first day, which happened to be Thomas’s day off, you purposefully ignored his hollers. You finally approached him before dinner, telling him how sorry you were that you weren’t able to answer him all day. You gave some bullshit excuse that Newt was on your ass about getting work done because he was mad about how long it took to get the fertilizer. Thomas said he understood, causing you to smile and kissing his cheek before skipping away. You didn’t see the bright red hue the covered his cheeks.

On the second day, when he returned from his run, he asked if you wanted to hang out during dinner. You gave him a sad smile, telling him that you already planned to hang out with Minho and would have to reschedule. Lucky for you, you had inadvertently told Minho what you were doing to Thomas when he trapped you behind the map room, asking why Thomas was constantly talking about you on their run. Minho was a good friend, however, and promised not to tell him. Though, he also said to “hit that”, whatever that meant.

You indulged him on the third day, spending all of time with him after dinner was finished. The time you spent with him in this time just solidified how much you liked this boy. The sexual tension was almost palpable the entire time, but you both ignored it for the most part, focusing your efforts on learning things about the other that you didn’t know already. Yes, you didn’t have many, if any, memories from before the glade, but you talked for hours about random things.

You finished this night by giving him a light kiss on the lips. It caught Thomas off guard, but he wasn’t arguing with the action. You had let him kiss back gently, his lips molding against yours perfectly. His hand was placed on the small of your back, pulling you against him in a tight hold. His lips were soft, but you had to fight your own urges to continue kissing him. Pulling away, you gave a tiny apology, trying to reason that you both had to be up early, before rushing away from him. He watched you run off, staring at your ass while he did, touching his lips that remained tingling from your encounter.

You grew worried going into the fourth day after how things ended the night before. You were worried you had gone too far when you pulled away from the kiss and feared Thomas would hate you. To make amends, you stole some paper from Minho, writing a note for Thomas that you could hide in his lunch. It was a simple message: Thank you for being an amazing guy. You just wanted him to know that he was on your mind and you cared. You hid away before he returned that evening, not wanting to see his reaction.

On day five, you dared to glance at him before he left in the morning, catching his eye and seeing him wink at you before he took off. The gesture boosted your confidence, trusting that he wasn’t angry about the other night. You decided to sit next to him at dinner that night, occasionally tracing your fingers along his thigh and over the bulge that continued to grow throughout the meal. He kept sparing glances at you, a glint of lust hidden deep in his orbs. When no one was looking you would whisper naughty things in his ear, feeling his cock twitching in his pants. Before he could attempt to drag you off, you placed a kiss to his cheek, telling him you were tired and heading to bed.

Day six was an easy-going day, just some casual flirting with Thomas, trying not to push the boundaries after you disappeared on him the night before. You didn’t want to overly tease him, afraid that he was growing weary of your tactics. He seemed to respond favorably, at least, when he was flirting back.

Today was day seven, and you spent all day doubting what you were doing. It was already sunset, growing dark quickly, which meant the runners would be back soon. You sat atop the watch tower, sneaking glances at the doors occasionally to see when Thomas was getting back. He ran through just before they closed, Minho by his side. Your eyes focused on Thomas’s sweaty form, licking your lips as your watched him pant for air. His shirt clung to his body like always, the butterflies in your stomach going wild with just the little glances.

The two disappeared into the map room, leaving you along with your thoughts once more. You were confused, unsure how far this could really take you. You felt like Thomas liked you back, recalling how he has reacted every day this week. But maybe you had rushed things when you gave him that blow job in the deadheads and he just wanted some action.

The thoughts were swirling out of control, clouding your thoughts and senses. You missed Frypan ringing the dinner bell, remaining frozen in your spot on the tower. Your eyes were glued to the starless sky, contemplating everything you could in this short time.

You didn’t register the sounds of someone climbing the ladder, nor the thump of the wood when they sat next to you. You only snapped from your thoughts when their hand brushed through your hair, leaving a warm feeling in their path.

Your eyes locked with Thomas’s honey brown ones, a sad smile present on his lips. You gave him a smile back, leaning your head on his shoulder. He didn’t question the action, choosing to just wrap his arm around your shoulder instead. Silence formed between you, neither wanting to break it for fear of what the other would want to say.

Thomas swallowed, feeling how dry his mouth was. He was afraid to ask what had been on his mind all day, but he knew he had to. He chalked up the courage, turning his eyes to you. “Y/N. What exactly are we?”

You sat up, looking fully at him. Your mind buzzed, trying to figure out how best to answer him. “Well,” you started, messing with the bottom of your shorts, “I would hope we are friends, right?”

Thomas furrowed his eyebrows, clenching his hands into fists in mind frustration. “Of course we are friends. Maybe I didn’t ask the right question.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “Why are you doing this? Why did you change so much? Why are you acting the way you are?”

Your mouth went slack, appalled by the questions. He wasn’t oblivious to your act, and had noticed your change in attitude. Maybe you truly had fucked up. “I-I…What are you t-talking about? I-I’m not-“

He sent you a harsh glare, cutting you off. “Bullshit you aren’t. Did you think I didn’t notice when you changed your outfit to…this.” He motioned to your outfit, biting the inside of his cheek to suppress a moan he wanted to let slip. “You don’t think I noticed your change in behavior? The flirting? The kisses? Rubbing my dick through my jeans during dinner?”

“I-I mean I-“

He continued his rant, not allowing you to speak. “At then you cast me off. I want to spend time with you but you run off with some fucking excuse. You would rather hang out with Minho and Newt than with me. You have kissed me, then pull away and leave me there, alone. You lead me on then run away before I can do anything. So please, tell me the truth. Do you actually like me, or is this some sick joke?”

You finally broke from the trance he put you in and returned his glare. You didn’t mean too, but you snapped. “Well it’s your fault Tommy! You’re the one that never gave me attention until I did this!”

He seemed taken aback by your outburst, stunned by what you told him. You could see the gears turning in his head, a smirk slowly forming on his features. “Oh? So that’s what you think, Y/N? I didn’t pay enough attention to you? Is that why you played hard to get?” You gulped, eyes wide, nodding your head at him. “Well, let me repay you now. You have my undivided attention.”

He pulled you into a sensual kiss, your eyes closing at the intense feeling he was giving you. His fingers tangled in your hair, tugging you close as his lips moved against yours. His head tilted to the side slightly, fully enveloping your lips with his, his tongue skimming across them slowly. Your moan was muffled, adjusting how you sat to be closer to Thomas.

His tongue skillfully bypassed your lips into your mouth, massaging your tongue thoroughly. More moans escapes, getting lost in the intensity of the kiss.

Amidst all the kissing, Thomas slipped his hand down your chest, kneading your breasts through your tank top. Even through the fabric, he could tell they were soft and that your nipples were already hard. You pressed your body closer to his again, your hand finding his to help him rub harder.

He broke the kiss, a deep groan escaping his mouth. “God, you are beautiful. The creators were dumb when they sent you here because you are just too perfect to be here.” You buried your head into his neck, moaning and placing sweet kisses along it. “You’re gonna have to do something for me, ok princess?”

You shuddered at the nickname, arousal pooling in your abdomen already. The way he said it had you reeling, eager to feel his hands pleasing you. “Of course, Tommy. Just tell me what to do. Anything.” Your words came out in short breathes, but Thomas got what you were saying.

“You’re gonna have to stay quiet for me. The guys might hear you if you get too loud.” It was like déjà vu, thinking back to when you told him to be quiet in the deadheads. You weren’t sure if he did this on purpose or not, but you weren’t arguing.

You mumbled a quiet yes into his ear, his hand instantly traveling down your body and popping the button on your shorts. He pulled them down to your knees, spreading your legs to get a good view of your pussy. His eyes lingered, his tongue wetting his lips at the sight in front of him.

“Fuck me, princess. You are soaked. Is this what I do to you?” He slipped his fingers along your folds, gathering the sticky fluid on the tips. You had to bite your lip to keep from moaning, your head falling back against the wooden rails of the watch tower. “I’ll take that as a yes, considering you are still spilling more for me. Now what do you want? Fingers? Or tongue?”

You whined at him, failing to process everything he was saying. “T-Tongue.” He grinned, pulling your shorts completely off your body. The air was beginning to get cold, sending a chill through your body as it drifted over your exposed pussy. Thomas saw you shiver, the grin widening.

“Let me warm you up, princess.” He dived between your legs, his tongue running along your folds. Your nails dug into the flooring, your head banging against the rail harder. He licked a few more times, pausing once or twice to probe your wet entrance with the tip before it finally burrowed its way inside of you.

“Oh fuck!” You let out, instantly covering your mouth. You knew someone would have heard you and you could only hope that no one would actually make their way up to check on you. Thomas gave you a leer, silently telling you to keep it down. Returning to his task, his tongue found its way back into your pussy, caressing your inner walls.

“Hey Y/N!” You heard Newt holler, mumbling a quick ‘fuck’ at his voice. “Are you ok up there? We heard you shout from the kitchen and wanted to make sure you were ok.”

Thomas didn’t stop. On the contrary, his licking sped up, thrusting his tongue deep inside you. You could barely breath properly, so you weren’t sure how answering Newt was going to go. You struggled to open your mouth, afraid that more moans would slip out with the increase in speed. Your body was hot, the knot in your stomach pulled tight, making it hard to find the right words for Newt.

The words barely left your mouth in one piece. “Y-Yeah I’m fine! Just a splinter! Don’t worry about it!”

You threaded your fingers in Thomas’s hair, tugging at it when tongue brushed against a sensitive spot inside your pussy. You huffed, clenching your eyes shut tightly in an attempt to concentrate on not making noise.

“Oh, alright. Don’t stay up there too long! It’s getting late!” You faintly heard Newt’s uneven footsteps fading underneath you, signaling he had walked away.

“Shit, Tommy. You’re going to get us caught.” He pulled his tongue from inside you, licking his lips clean of your juices as he caught you eye. “Don’t give me that look. You’re the one with the magic tongue.”

He laughed, abruptly plunging two fingers inside you. You got lucky to cover your mouth, a loud scream caught by your fingers. “Magic tongue, eh? What about these fingers? What do you think these fingers can do to you? Can they make you cum?”

You nodded hastily at him, whimpering while he started thrusting his fingers slowly. The movements were gentle, brushing against your walls and g-spot and occasionally scissoring your entrance and licking his tongue along the opening. The heat was building inside you again, but you were already growing tired of his slow pace.

“Please, Tommy. Go faster.”

“Whatever you say, princess.” You could tell without looking that he was smirking, his fingers pumping faster. The tips prodded your g-spot, sending waves of pleasure and desire through your body. You panted his name, tugging furiously at his hair, silently demanding more stimulation.

He understood your plea, wrapping his lips around your clit, sucking and licking at it in tandem with his pumping. He could feel your body shaking with pleasure and your walls convulsing around his fingers, signaling that you were approaching your peak.

His tongue swirled around your sensitive nub, tugging at it with his teeth. His fingers circled inside your pussy, trying to reach every inch he could within your tightened walls. The knot in your stomach was twisting with his combined actions, short breaths and whines muffled by your hand.

With one final suck of your clit, you felt the knot unravel inside you. Your head fell back against the railing, black spots clouding your eyesight. Your grip on his hair was taut and your toes curled in your shoes. Your juices flowed out in streams, coating his fingers, soaking into his skin. Your walls clenched around him, his name rolling off your tongue happily. He carefully pumped his fingers, riding out your orgasm with you.

When your body finally relaxed, he pulled out, sucking his fingers clean. You watched while he did, your chest heaving. He helped you put back on your shorts, kissing you tenderly on the lips. You felt the spark as they came in contact, and the tingle that remained when he pulled away. Your body was still hot, and you knew you weren’t finished.

“Tommy.” He locked eyes with you, trying to read your expression. “Meet me in my room in fifteen minutes.”

His mouth fell open, watching you crawl towards the ladder. He blinked once, afraid he was overthinking it. “Why? Are we…?”

You giggled at him. “Yes. I’m not done with you yet.” With that, you descended the ladder, being extra careful because of your shaky, post-orgasm limbs. You had to hurry off to your room and get ready.

You threw your dirty clothes into a corner, trying to clean up before Thomas arrived. You had changed into just a baggy shirt, discarding your bra and ruined panties with the rest of your clothes. The shirt came to the middle of your thighs, so you couldn’t see anything underneath without looking.

You were growing anxious with each passing second. You couldn’t believe you were actually going to do this with him. You still weren’t sure if he cared for you the same way you did, but you were willing to risk it at this point.

From how he talked, it appeared that he had noticed you before the start of the week. Maybe he was just shy about approaching you like you were with him. You kept your fingers crossed that that was the case.

You paced the room, time going slower than you wished. Your body ached for him. You weren’t sure how much longer you could wait for him. You occasionally glanced at the door, hoping that he would walk through it any second. When it remained shut, your hopes dwindled more and more.

You collapsed on your bed, pouting at the ceiling. You rubbed your thighs together, your mind wandering to Thomas like always. You recalled your activities on the tower, the feels that his fingers and tongue provided. Arousal pooled between your legs, starting to drip down your legs.

Pulling up the hem of the shirt, your fingers ran over your slit, feeling how wet you were just at the thought of him. You were already impatient, so why not please yourself in the meantime? The tips traced over your clit, a small gasp sneaking out with the rush of pleasure. You moved your fingers further down, prodding at your dripping pussy. You dipped them inside, soft moans flying from your lips.

You imagined it was Thomas fingering you again, picturing his dark eyes staring into yours as he teased you with sexy noises. You pictured the muscles in his arm and the way they would flex while he did anything, especially while he was fingering you. You thought back to the deadheads, and how big his cock was. You could only fantasize about what the rest of his body looked like under his clothes. Thomas was the only thing floating around your mind while you let pleasure run through your body.

“Damn, princess. Couldn’t wait for me, eh? As much as I love watching you, you should let me help.”

Your eyes snapped open at the sound, rolling off the bed in haste. Thomas stood there, leaning against your door, arms crossed over his chest. A smirk was present on his face, the lust raging in his orbs. You could see the outline of his cock in his pants, hard already for you.

“Tommy,” you whined, relaxing on the floor where you fell. “You scared the shit out of me.” You paused, taking a moment to think. “How long have you been here exactly?”

Thomas walked over, picking you up bridal style from the ground and fixing you atop your bed. “Oh you know. Just like…” He glanced at the watch on his wrist. “8 minutes?”

“WHAT?!” You screamed, covering you mouth when he cast you a stern look. “Sorry. 8 minutes Tommy? You watched me finger myself that entire time?”

Thomas sat down next to you, pulling his shirt over his head. “Yup. I have to say, princess. That was incredibly sexy to watch. But like I said before, you should let me help.”

He dropped his shirt on the floor, your eyes transfixed on his toned upper body. His perfect pecs, his six pack abs, his bulging biceps. You even saw the happy trail that disappeared into his jeans to the giant cock you wanted so desperately. You were nearly drooling at the sight of him.

He picked you up from the bed, placing you on his lap. His cock pressed against your wet cunt, letting you feel how rock hard he was and how he was throbbing for you. You shifted your weight, grinding against him and pressing into him more.

You both let out moans at the feeling. He pulled you into a messy kiss, sloppier than any of the precious ones. Thomas pressed his against yours intensely, your tongues rubbing against each other. He was tugging at the bottom of your shirt, running his fingers along your waist as he did. Pulling from the kiss, you ripped the shirt over your head, dropping it behind you without reserve.

He stood from the bed with you still in his arms, turning to drop you on it. He admired your body from where he stood, adjusting the front of his pants. “Fuck princess. You’re perfect. There are so many things I could do to you. But you know, I think you have some explaining to do first. Why were you fingering yourself before I got here?”

You blinked, a faint blush spreading across your cheeks. You swallowed, trying to remain confident in front of him. “Well, you were taking too long to get here. What do you want me to do, apologize?”

You watched him remove the belt he was wearing today, a mischievous look on his face. “Maybe I do. I should be the only one pleasing you. I am sorry I took longer to get here. I got stopped by Newt and Minho. But that’s no excuse for you. Because you know I should be the one fucking you to the point it is hard to work tomorrow.”

Your body shook with delight, the ache between your legs amplified. “Well, excuse me daddy.”

He groaned, shuffling closer to your side. “Why do you have to say and do the sexiest things? You just made me harder. I didn’t even know that was possible.” He hovered over you, pulling both your wrists into his veiny hands. “This is punishment for not waiting for me. Now, be good for daddy.”

He tied your wrists together with his belt, tightening it so you couldn’t shake them loose. Your body was hot, getting turned on by the idea of calling him daddy. You said it as a joke, but he liked it. You licked your lips, Thomas moving your arms above your head. “Daddy, are you gonna fuck me now?”

He groaned, kicking off his pants and boxers quickly. “Fuck. Yes. Oh my god yes.” You giggled at how eager he was, a pout forming on his face at your reaction. “It’s not nice to laugh at daddy, princess. Maybe I should teach you a lesson right now.”

He crawled on top of you, his pulsating cock pressing against your warm cunt. He kissed down your face, sucking your neck to leave bright purple bruises in along it. He trailed down between your breasts, leaving red marks along the way. “I think this will be your punishment for playing hard to get all week. Sound fair, princess?” You whined as a response, fidgeting underneath him. “Sounds like a deal then.”

Your breathing increasing feeling his breath fanning over your breasts, crazing his touch. “Please, daddy. Touch me.” He twitched at your words, his lips wrapping around your nipple in a moment’s notice. A small scream left your mouth, reveling in the pleasure that he gave you.

His tongue flicked over your nipple, rolling it around inside his mouth. His hand groped the other breast between his fingers, roughly fondling it. Your bound hands moved from over your head, sliding through Thomas’s dark, chocolate hair. Your moans bounced off the walls, your body shaking in delight.

He would alternate between breasts, repeating his actions on the other breast. One planted firmly in his hand, receiving squeezes and tugs of the nipples from his fingers. The other was littered in red marks from his kisses before the nipple was between his lips, his tongue toying with the bug and his teeth tugging at it occasionally. The simultaneous action sent your body into overdrive, eagerness eating away at your insides.

You felt the growing discomfort between your legs calling out for him, your legs wrapping around his waist. He groaned against your breast, feeling the wet warmth spreading over the length of his cock. Both of you were throbbing, need and desire your top priority.

“Daddy, I need you.”

He pulled from your nipple with an audible pop, moving up to smother your face in wet kisses. He stopped above your lips, brushing them slightly as he talked. “What do you want, princess?”

You blushed, feeling kind of self-conscious about the answer. “You. Inside of me.”

He nodded, carefully adjusting his cock to press at your opening. He looked at you, his eyes reading the worried expression that was present. “I will be careful. It’s going to hurt. Just let me know when you are ready and I will continue.”

You nodded, Thomas slowly pushing inside of you. To say it hurt would be an understatement. Stray tears slid down your cheeks, Thomas wiping them away. He peppered kisses everywhere on your face, whispering soothing words in your ear.

The pain began to ease, your walls clenching around his cock. It was different than his fingers, but it felt good. You bucked your hips into his, signaling to him that you were ready for him to move.

He rolled his hips into yours, slowly beginning to thrust inside of you. The feeling of his cock pushing against your walls sent chills through your body, shivering under his touch. Your quiet moans filled his ears, causing him to moan in response.

“Can I go faster, princess?” Thomas asked, placing a kiss to your lips.

You nodded at him, feeling his hips snap against yours promptly. He wasted no time digging you into the bed with hard, rapid thrusts. His head buried deep into your neck, biting at your soft skin. Your body jerked with each thrust, your moans getting louder each time.

Kissing the bite mark he left, he leaned back on his knees, pulling your thighs up around his waist tighter. His cock would pull out, the tip left inside slightly, before he slammed back in every time. Each of these thrusts were deep, his cock being buried inside your cunt.

You struggled to grip something, your hands still bound by the belt. “Tommy. Can you please undo this?”

He shook his head, continuing his restless pounding. “No way, babe. Not yet. You’re mine. Let me have my way with you.”

You whimpered when you felt his cock rub your g-spot, every snap of his hips causing him to rub against it furiously. His speed was ungodly, his fingers pressing hard into your thighs. He held your legs closer, hitting the deepest reaches of your pussy.

He slowed his movements so he could lift one of your legs over his shoulder. He resumed his assault on your cunt, pounding away at it mercilessly. The new angle allowed him to hit different parts of your pussy, ultimately causing your body to spasm under him.

“Fuck, baby,” He mumbled, feeling your walls clinging to his cock. “You’re so tight. It feels so good.” He pulled out of you, ignoring your whine from the emptiness, and flipped you over, your ass sticking proudly in the air. “Let’s see how tight you are from back here.”

A loud slap broke the air, his hand meeting your skin. You mewled at the contact, your ass stinging from the smack. He grinned, slipping his cock inside you quickly before smacking it again.

“You like that, baby? You like when I smack your ass?” You mewled every time he smacked it, your hands attempting to grip at the blanket you were on. “You love it. My, my. Such a dirty girl.”

His cock pulled from you, slamming its way back in repeatedly. The sound of slapping skin pierced your ears, your moans being drowned by the repeated thrusts and wet clapping of skin on skin. He leaned over your back, his hand twisting in your hair. He would tug it harshly, causing your back to arch under him. There was something about it that was oddly stimulating. Every action drove you closer to your orgasm, your body quivering.

“Tommy. Please let me go. I want to be on top of you. Can I please you just this once before you cum, daddy?” You whined, biting at your pillow. It was hard to get the words out, but once you did, Thomas faltered in his thrusts, slowly ceasing his endless attack.

He pulled from you once more, flipping you over and removing the belt from your wrists. You rubbed them carefully, seeing the red marks that had formed from struggling. You slipped out from under him, pushing him back onto the bed. His cock stood upright in all its glory, slick from your juices. You took a deep breath, straddling him, his cock slipping into your pussy easily.

He let out a moan, his hands gripping your waist carefully. You pressed yourself close to him, your breasts pushed against his chest. You placed your lips on him, feeling him twitch inside you as a response. You kissed along his jaw to his neck, leaving a purple mark just as he had done to you.

Sitting back up, you hands rested on his chest, your eyes locking with his. Your nails dug into his chest, supporting yourself as your rolled your hips into his, feeling the length of his cock entered and exiting your sex. He mumbled incoherent words, guiding your movements with a delicate touch. He allowed you to move yourself, helping only to lead you along his length.

You propped up on the balls of your feet, your nails raking down his chest once you starting bouncing on his cock. His moans got louder and more frequent, his cock pulsing inside you. “Damn, Y/N. Keep going. I want to cum from this. Once I am there, you need to get off. Got it?”

You nodded, barely processing his words. He grinned, jerking his hips to meet yours. The contact left you screaming his name, the combination of his cock thrusting up into you and your pussy closing around him as you bounced was becoming too much, your body shaking regularly and your nails digging deeper into Thomas’s skin, drawing small bits of blood.

One of his hands let go of your waist, finding your clit and rubbing his furiously. Pure bliss fell upon you, quickly becoming undone on top of him. Your bouncing slowed, halting entirely when your walls completely closed around him, making it hard to continue his own thrusts up. Your juices splattered your walls, coating his cock. Your toes curled into the blankets, your legs barely keeping you upright. Your eyes rolled back at the intensity of your orgasm, your entire body shuttering from the impact. Your back arched, your pussy pressing down on him.

Thomas groaned, feeling the increased moisture of your inner walls. A layer of your juices covered his cock, allowing his dick to slip inside of you easily. The tight walls of your pussy clenched around him, pressing at the pulsing, throbbing veins along his length.

Your body calmed from your orgasm, finally becoming aware of how sloppy Thomas’s thrusts had become. You knew he was getting close. His chest muscles flexed under your fingers, red marks lining his fair skin. His face was tight, concentrating on the orgasm that was fast approaching. It was now or never, you pulling off his cock before he could say anything. His hand reacted quickly, his fingers closing around his cock, fisting it rapidly. You fondled his balls, gently massaging them between your fingers.

“Holy fuck, Y/N.” He nearly screamed, the white strings of his seed spurting from the tip, covering his chest and stomach in white globs. His body quivered, shaking every time another string would shoot out of him.

The final bits dribbled into the curly hairs on his crotch, the only noise in the room being your synced pants. You grabbed a towel that was hanging at the end of your bed, helping to clean you both up. You dropped it on the side of your bed, collapsing onto Thomas’s chest.

“That,” he exhaled a loud breath, a smile on his face, “was beyond amazing. Who knew you were so crazy in bed.” You stayed silent, fear that he only cared about the sex consuming your thoughts. He noticed your silence, running his fingers through your hair. “Babe?”

“Do you like me, Thomas?” You asked without thinking, regretting it instantly. His eyebrows knit together, confused. “Never mind. Don’t answer that. That was stupid.”

“Of course I like you. I thought I made that obvious already.” He stated.

“No. Not just like. Like-like. Like the…you would want to date me kind of like.”

He chuckled. “My answer is still the same. I thought I was obvious when I was flirting with you all week.”

You pouted, burying your face in his chest. “But that could have just been because I gave you that blowjob last week.”

Thomas sighed, tilting your head up to look at him. “Y/N. Let me tell you this then. I have liked you since the moment I came up in that box. I thought you didn’t know I existed though. I was afraid to approach you and making a fool of myself, so I always avoided talking to you, even when I did come in contact eith you. When you changed your look, it caught me off guard that you would do that. But it made me want to approach you, hoping it was, in some way, for me.”

You gaped at him, your mouth dry. “Tommy, everything I did was for you. I always thought you didn’t know I existed. So, Newt told me to get you to notice me, play hard to get to show I wasn’t easy and get you wanting more. I was always afraid it was too much or that you would get this far and cast me aside.”

He pulled you up, nuzzling his nose with yours. “I could never cast you aside. Because I love you too much to do that.”

Your face lit up, a sweet kiss placed to his lips. “I love you too Tommy.”

He smiled back, pulling you into a tight hug. “Good. Now we can tell all of the guys you are mine and they can stop eye fucking you from across the glade.”

You giggled, remembering how Newt said you eye fucked Thomas. “Well, we can just eye fuck each other then.” You snuggled into his chest, your eyes drooping as your listened to his heartbeat.

“Sounds like a deal, babe. Now, get some sleep.” He kissed your forehead before you both fell into a dreamless sleep.

You struggled to get out of bed due to a combination of a sore body and lack of sleep. You didn’t sleep much, having woken up twice throughout the night and fucking him once again.

You awoke once when he was kissing your forehead, tilting your head to kiss him on his lips. Simple kisses turned frisky to the point that his cock was buried into you pussy from behind while you laid on your side, one of his hands holding your leg up while he pounded away at you. Your moans were louder than ever, your orgasm more intense.

The second time, you were woken up by his fingers pressed to your clit, rubbing circles on in until you came, Thomas slipping down to clean you up with his tongue. You repaid him by wrapping your tits around his cock, licking over the tip as he thrust himself in your cleavage. You swallowed every drop of his cum that landed on your tongue, the rest dripping down your face and tits.

Your body ached, but you had to fight it because you had work to do. You walked with Thomas to the doors, seeing him off on his run. He gave you a chaste kiss to your lips, you both murmuring ‘I love you’ to each other.

Thomas took off into the maze with Minho, who had fake gagged at your romantic notions. You limped towards the gardens, Newt already working on harvesting some vegetables. He locked on your form, glancing over it.

“You’re glowing today.” You cocked your head at him. “You look different. You seem…brighter I guess. Must be because you got laid last night.” You tripped over a rock in shock, stumbling at his words.

“H-how did you know?”

Newt laughed, helping you stand up straight and handing you a shovel. “I know all, Y/N. Plus, I’m not dumb. I saw Tommy’s feet dangling over the side of the watch tower last night. You both have hickeys all over your necks. You can barely walk straight.” You blushed, covering your face with your hands. “It’s fine. Just be safe.”

You groaned. “Thanks Newt.”

Newt pat your back, enjoying you being flustered. “Good thing you took my advice. Now, never play hard to get again. You suck at it honestly.”

You smacked his side. “You suck.” You grinned at him, ignoring his glare. “But, trust me when I say this. It won’t happen again. I have my man, and he’s not leaving anytime soon.”

[kingedmundsroyalmurder]

“...and the power structure itself leads to a slow but steady deterioration of power for the people as it gets accumulated by the wealthy and influential who milk the economic desperation and petty xenophobia of the common citizens as a way to keep from being held accountable by the very people who should be most incensed by the rampant corruption of their leaders. It's awful! It's obscene! And no one even notices, which is incredible to me. Have we as a society grown so complacent that criminals only need to put on a suit and a microphone and be seen as heroes instead? Have the ordinary people of this system become so accustomed to being oppressed that they don't even notice the reality of their own oppression?”

Jean Prouvaire paused for breath, which gave Bossuet a moment to steal his wine glass and refill it without risking being hit in the nose by one of Prouvaire's wildly gesticulating hands. The young poet had been on his tirade for a solid five minutes, pausing only to try and drink from the wine glass, which had been empty for the last half hour. There was a certain irony in a man bemoaning the oblivious nature of the people being so unobservant himself, but Bossuet had long grown accustomed to Jean Prouvaire's peculiar contradictions.

“Of course they have,” Bahorel said. He sat with his legs resting on a desk filled with someone else's papers, carefully shined books firmly planted on a stack of legal forms, a deliberately crafted declaration of his esteem for the documents. He too held a glass, and accepted Bossuet's silent offer of a refill with a nod of thanks. “And don't think for a moment that it's not by design. It suits the power leeches to keep us unthinking and unaware. The problem we should address is not why the people fail to notice the abuses of power happening under their noses and rather how to go about changing their perceptions. Personally I lean towards disrupting traffic and redistributing resources to those who need them most, but I will hear arguments for defacing public buildings and singing rude anthems.”

Prouvaire laughed and took another drink from his glass, seeming surprised to find it full once again. “Why not all at once?” he wanted to know.

“Why not indeed?” Bahorel agreed. He shifted to a slightly more comfortable position, uncrossing his legs only to recross them again the other way, and turned to look at Bossuet. “You've been awfully quiet,” he said. “It's unlike you. What's on your mind?”

“Oh, nothing terribly world-shaking,” Bossuet said with a shrug. There being only one chair in Bahorel's superior's office, and that being occupied by Bahorel himself, Bossuet stood leaning against a bookshelf. Bahorel had decreed that the best use of lawbooks was as coasters, and so the shelves themselves were festooned with bottles and glasses in various states of emptiness, at least until Bahorel's superior returned from their vacation. “I was simply thinking that perhaps the real reason people have lost their aptitude for questioning orders is because no one presents them with a model of how to do so. A hallmark of sentience is the plasticity of the brain, as we all know by now, and our leaders are without peer when it comes to nourishing the brains of their people in such a way as to create precisely the outcome they most desire, which is to say complacency and frustration. How do you create a society content to look no father than their own pocketbooks? You hold up a portrait and call it a mirror.” He nodded towards the infoscreen embedded  tastefully into the exotic wood paneling covering the office's far wall. It currently sat inert, its power supply throttled and diverted to more useful purposes, namely the recharging of a cleaning drone that Jean Prouvaire had liberated from servitude the previous week. Bahorel, for reasons known only to himself, had attached a knife to its flat top, and it now sat tethered to a hijacked power supply, waiting for new victims. “Think on it. Our entertainment is all set in an alternate universe, one cunningly crafted to resemble ours in every superficial sense but lacking the petty miseries and misfortunes of reality. And why should it not? Would you spend your scant hours of freedom reliving the very existence you tuned in to escape? Certainly not. Entertainment as fantasy is a time honored tradition, and one that I would not dream of vilifying entirely. Entertainers work hard to bring us a moment of escape, and I cannot fault them for their work. I think we can all agree that our lives would be lessened without their dedication to their crafts.”

Bahorel, whose partner-of-an-unspecified-but-definitely-intimate-nature of several years made her living appearing in the very dramas Bossuet currently described, raised his glass in enthusiastic agreement.

“But, as with any earthly delight – and possibly any heavenly one as well; theologians contradict themselves on this point regularly – this comes at a cost, namely that those of us who enjoy the escapist entertainment so eagerly offered to us run the risk of believing them to be set in our universe, rather than the one next door. And indeed, who can blame us? To an undiscerning viewer – and who among us is always discerning? – they appear to be identical. One would think that dramas would be required by law to include some statement with each program to clear up this confusion, but alas, they are not and thus have not bothered. Of course, the fantasy falls apart the moment it is subjected to closer observation. After all, I cannot say that I am constantly surrounded by impossibly attractive people, manage to live comfortably without any apparent source of income, resolve all of my conflicts within the confines of a forty minute span of time, or learn lessons on a daily basis. Why, I have been known to go for weeks without learning a single thing!”

“You must admit, however, we are uncommonly attractive,” Bahorel said. He drained his glass and reached under the desk for another bottle. Bossuet thought this one might have been pilfered from his superior's personal supply.

“Literature is worse,” Jean Prouvaire said, frowning at the infoscreen. “When was the last time anything but a romance or a badly written thriller made it past the censors? When was the last time you read a work of politically aware fiction, or even a volume of poetry?”

“Yesterday,” Bahorel said promptly. “But I assume you meant to imply that the volume in question be legal to obtain.”

“Exactly!” Prouvaire said. “The only way to nourish the soul with anything other than mass produced propaganda is to acquire that nourishment illegally. The government is starving us as truly as if they were taking our food and offering us nothing but sugar candy.”

“And is it not our duty as sentient beings to feed the hungry when we find them?” Bossuet wanted to know.

Bahorel tilted his head slightly. “Certainly it is,” he agreed. “What do you suggest?”

“Well,” Bossuet said, “we are all men of letters, are we not? You, Jean Prouvaire, sculpt words into delicate verse, and you, Bahorel, join me in the wretched study of torturing our poor language into submission in the name of legality. Surely it would not be too difficult to turn our talents to the cause of feeding the needy. And it so happens that I have a friend with the conviction and talent to spread our words to those who might want them.”

“You are suggesting we take up careers as bookwriters?” Bahorel wanted to know.

“If books are what catch your fancy,” Bossuet said. “I myself rather fancy the much maligned novella, and Jean Prouvaire, of course, breathes poetry as others among us breathe air. I meant only to suggest an intent behind any words we create, not a form.”

“And Enjolras will publish us?” Jean Prouvaire asked.

“Certainly, if we meet his standards of quality,” Bossuet said.

Bahorel tilted his head, considering this. “Enjolras,” he said. “I know that name.” He looked at Bossuet. “Tell me why I know that name.”

“Likely because he published the book of poetry you read yesterday,” Bossuet said.

Bahorel shook his head. “No, that was put out by my brother. Between us, his skill with words leave something to be desired. The things that man can do to a perfectly innocent preposition. I had to avert Jean Prouvaire's eyes from some of the more lurid passages, lest he become overwhelmed.” He sighed, taking a dramatic swig from the bottle he still held. “Still, I know that name. I will have to think on it later. In the meantime, I fully support this plan of action. Stars only know that I might as well put all this scrap to some useful purpose.” He gestured with his free hand, the motion encompassing the entire desk and its contents. “Tell your friend that I will have something for him shortly.”

“Splendid!” Bossuet said. “Prouvaire? Do you approve of this idea?”

Jean Prouvaire did not answer. When Bossuet looked over at him, he found the young man bent over a datapad, scribbling furiously with a stylus that had magically materialized in his hand.

“I think we can assume that he does,” Bahorel said, smiling fondly.

Bossuet readjusted his position against the bookshelf and pulled out a datapad of his own, borrowed from the office supply room months ago and never returned, and began determining how best to go about proposing to a man whom, in truth, he barely knew that they engage in acts of a seditious and mostly illegal nature. With a slight smile of his own, he began to write.