#i needed a name and i think she’d order something insane for fun

[mlady-magnolia]

Yes, this was a real drink someone ordered at my Starbucks except it was a Chai Creme Frappe

I don’t know why either

[foldingfittedsheets]

A friend I had briefly in my teens years was this girl in Arizona. She was a junior when I was a freshman, and as I was socially awkward and very lonely she kind’ve pulled me under her wing for a while. I don’t remember how we met, but I remember riding in her car and meeting her cute miniature Doberman.

But the thing I remember most about this girl was that she loved lying to me. And I had a massive but I acknowledged crush on her so I adored being lied to. Her natural charisma and storytelling was hypnotic.

It’s not what it sounds like because it wasn’t malicious but she came up with this in depth lore to tell me about this fake job she had. I know autistic people are meant to be credulous but I truly never believed her stories, I just adored her storytelling and was very ready to listen to whatever tale she spun that day. Another of her friends chided her once for teasing me but I genuinely never minded.

In her lore she moonlighted as a Professional Liar. People would hire her to get close to a target they wanted rattled. She’d make friends, develop a strong relationship, foster a dependency on her, then disappear. Then when they were confused and missing her sometime when the employer needed their target rattled she’d show back up as a glimpse to knock them off balance. Often it was implied she’d faked her death in the interim.

That itself was fine, it was an okay story. But in order to support that lie she’d make up tons of supporting details that were way more fun. She had this fake boyfriend who got high as balls on a mission and ended up seeing a sheep in a field and carrying it to a farmhouse to try to buy it because he wanted a puppy. I liked that one but suspected she didn’t know how big sheep were.

She’d IM chat with me as this made up boyfriend sometimes; once she had him ask me if I noticed her limping and he told me she’d just lost a toe but was covering for it like a champ. That one was fun.

She told me about something she called “purple charge” which was a way to get instant night vision. I did try looking that one up on the off chance, but was sadly disappointed there.

She said that Professional Liars had such high stakes jobs that they needed a week of insane time where they just partied so hard it was like a Dionysus rave and her IM boyfriend persona implied she’d killed someone during one of those stints.

I had such a fun time with her elaborate fiction that I’d often ask follow up questions and she had to do a lot of world building to keep up with my fascination. We’d get to class and I’d have three or four new questions which I think is why her friend thought her teasing was too far. They genuinely thought I believed her but I was just loving the fiction.

If any of this sounds malicious I’ll also add that when I got harassed on a roleplaying board she went out guns blazing to go after the guy who’d been harassing me. She genuinely enjoyed my company.

I find myself looking back on our friendship very fondly. I can’t remember her last name or have any way of looking her up, but she really was a professional liar to me. The only downside is that I’m completely faceblind so if she ever wanted to pop unexpectedly into my life I’d have no idea it was her.

[pinazee]

Bounty Hunters!

I just find it so adorable when a kid has bright ass food stains on them. Its like the essence of childhood or something more poetic haha also, this might sound insane, but this is the first ep i could feel that shawn and gus had been friends since childhood. Possibly because they’re nearly wearing the exact same shirts and at the same steps so the parallel is a lot more obvious. Like it just clicked in my brain or something.

I just really liked this shot. That is all.

Shout out to James and Dulés’ stunt double

This is one of those times i don’t envy actors. This looks so uncomfortable. Also, i can’t decide if it’s naivety or arrogance that Shawn would think he could go into this bar and be okay?? I guess you can assume that Shawn knew Tancana would stop them before they caused any serious damage but that one guy was about to hit him with a chain, and its one thing to go into this on your own, its another to bring your friend with you.

A+ scene work from Corbin Bernsen here lol

This is what I do to get my dog to stop eating her toys. Doesn’t work with her either.

One of the few times Shawn kind of loses it with Gus and has to recollect himself haha. Like he’s been frustrated sure, but he usually applies some sort of manipulation. But i really like this scene because usually its Gus thats frustrated with Shawns behavior.

Sidenote: about the super sniffer. I don’t think its that he can smell things others can’t, because Shawn usually points it out and can recognize it, i think the super sniffer is that Gus can break the smell down and put a name to it. Like the gardenias in the perfume, the ginger blossoms in the kangaroo paste. Shawn just knows its kangaroo paste. Idk, i had to think about it at least haha

What a goof. But also, ive started watching Gus while shawns doing his breakdowns and he’s like miming beside him haha if i see it in a later ep i’ll gif it.

Its kind of insane that Bird hands over Tancana and this supposedly alleviates Juliets guilt? Like i get the line she says we all make mistakes as a way of saying Juliet’s forgiven herself, but um, she didn’t really do anything. I wish instead they would have had Shawn notify the cops where he’d be, have lassie ignore him per usual, but let juliet take off on her own (against orders) and save them from bird that way (possibly at the parking garage). This way we can see that she can still rely on her gut and it isn’t handed to her by shawn, kind of like the If You’re So Smart ep, when he solved her case and its somehow a win for her. Its still a sweet gesture that Shawn was cool semi-risking his life (and gus’s for that matter) so she can “save” them and get her good reputation back, even if it doesn’t quite make sense haha

The near kiss was perfection! I think a full kiss would have been too soon, particularly because Juliet was pretty vulnerable just then and it wouldn’t feel right. But the fact that it made juliet nervous enough to start dismantling her gun like she’d been doing all day- fantastic way to gain insight into to her mind and give us the audience hope that the ship would exist. She seems pretty conflicted about him (i think mainly because she doesn’t date coworkers?). I mean, from her perspective, she only know him as immature, irresponsible to a degree, who relentlessly flirts, BUT at the same time is incredibly kind and fun. I would have some hesitation too. Being kind and fun will only get you so far, in my book at least. I also need someone i can rely on to do the boring grown up stuff so im not solely responsible and Shawn just doesn’t come across as someone who can do that (yet). And not to spoil it, but in the bank robbery ep, we learn Juliet likes them mature.

okay. I don’t think this is going to be a popular opinion (just to prepare you mentally) cause i believe everyone loves this scene, and don’t get me wrong i love it too, i just think it doesn’t quite fit in the ep? Like i know shawn was flirty with jules the whole time, and he’s trying to impress her, but it was always jokey and they didn’t really have a solid heart to heart moment, and it pulls away from what Juliet was going through. I think if he’d consoled her a bit, let her know that a mistake is inevitable and assuming that she wouldn’t make any was setting her up to fail, that she was still the smartest, and bravest cop on the force and she should remember that the next time that voice in her head says differently, then he could maybe go for the kiss. Maybe. I think I would’ve preferred it if he’d just consoled her and she was the one who went to kiss him but changed her mind at the last second and thats how we get close talking. Because she wants to kiss him, but at the end of the day she’s pragmatic.

(I just want to quickly add that i by no means think i can write these better. This is just fun for me to put my own little spin on it. I also know other factors go into making a show (time, budget etc) so there are things writers wanted to include that would have improved their eps but said factors forced them to make changes. I don’t want these little opinionated changes i’d make to come across as mean spirited or arrogant. They’re more like responses to a writing prompt if that makes sense.)

[lightlycareless]

chapter 26 driving me insane,,, such good good character building for the rest of the cast! so happy to see new updates!

hinata,, if theres anyone to be worried about when it comes to making y/n not want to stay, its not naoya i can tell you that. i wonder how she’d feel about y/n and naoaki?? she seems the type to not trust any of the zenin’s, no matter how much naoaki does to prove himself trustworthy.

also the LETTERS?? WHATS GOING ON. WHOS STEALING THEM?? unless i’ve misremembered severely, y/n sent one back but hasnt received one from hinata, which means someones intercepted hers? is the thievery ren mentioned connected or a red herring?? i gotta start detectiving this,,

1. naoaki: i don’t believe it. he would never. even if he were to get shady i don’t believe he’d intercept their letters. why? vibes. he’s just Not The Type 2 me

2. naoya: quite frankly i don’t think he’s smart enough for that kind of subterfuge. he’d rather get in her face about it and demand to know why she’s sending letters (aka “why aren’t you talking to me :(“) and thats presuming he even knows its happening- he’s had enough to deal with already. don’t think its him.

i don’t think any of the named characters so far would be both motivated and/or able to intercept them,,, someone new then?? b-plot? drama? im so excited

OMG HI!!!! How are you?? ❤❤❤❤

I'm so glad you liked the new chapter!! I was hoping to see your outlook on it actually 🥺❤❤❤ I always enjoy reading your asks 😭because they always leave me thinking 👀👀❤

Anyways, thank you for your lovely words! I really like writing Hinata, like allot.

Her perfect, righteous persona is just so fun (and a bit ridiculous) to write tbh, there's just something about the overprotective older sibling trope that I just love... to break hahahahah I needed to show Hinata a bit miserable, you know? She always seemed to be on top of things, but c'mon, her younger sister is basically kidnapped and her family is refusing to help her 💀 something must affect her one way or the other.

Ren is keeping cool, because he needs to. If he were to freak out I think it would only tense her even more than she already is 😭I also love portraying the overprotective sibling on him :> specially on him, but we'll see that later on.

As for the letters...

who knows? HAHAHAHHA

jk

I mentioned once in the previous chapters, I think on the one where Hinata visits Y/N, during the conversation with Naoya that there's an overall crisis going on in the jujutsu community (geto) which has them in a really tough position—there's allot of sorcerers acting against one another, some under geto's jurisdiction, other just because they can and want to use him as a scapegoat.

Amongst those actions, mail theft. It might not be that much, but considering how certain governments still rely on mailing official/confidential things instead of sending them electronically, I assumed jujutsu HQ would do the same. Meaning, there's a reason to intercept these letters: in order to get some juicy details 👀

I envision the main victims to be active sorcerers and important families, tho. Unfortunately, their letters can't be handpicked so some civilians might find themselves thinking "What happened to my parcels?!"

In other words, there have been different incidents across the country, and Ren (wanting to reassure himself and his sister before either snapped) wished to believe your "silence" had to do with that.😭

Now... let's also remember that the elders from the L/N clan really want this marriage to exist essentially forever, so even with Sumire's attempts... they might've just outsmarted her as well 🥴 It would only be natural to assume so, considering she's Y/N's best friend and there might be a stronger loyalty towards her vs them.

But if we want to kick it up a notch, let's include Eiichi into our list of suspects :> because he's been very willing to play along with the elders and has been doing nothing but keeping quiet. omg, imagine the kind of reaction Hinata would have if that was the case??!?! I would kill him ngl. Guess we'll just have to wait and see 🤭

Now, Hinata's reaction towards Naoaki is a pretty interesting one 👀 It reminds me of the halloween drabble I wrote, she was completely uninterested in Naoaki, but did not hate him, unlike Naoya 💀

But circling back to your point, you're absolutely right. She would have a hard time accepting Naoaki, he'd have to straight up do a miracle or something to be welcomed into her social circle. Maybe her perception on him would somewhat soften once she hears that he's been helping Y/N contact her, but she'll probably say something like "it's the bare minimum after what your family did" oof.

Well, he'll keep trying. But I fear that if Hinata keeps "attacking" him one way or the other he might be like "Y/N, I don't want your family to hate you for being with me... so it's better if we part ways" AND I'D CRY. Unironically, this might be the moment where Hinata is finally convinced he's not that bad hahaha

As for Naoaki, I don't think there's anything that could hint it was him having something to do with the letters, outside of sending them lol. I know he's done some rather questionable things (that one part where he's like: um, maybe you can convince Naoya to not have the twins as servants was 🤢🤮), and I understand why it was received badly, but he's done so many things to prove himself trustworthy too😭 and that's not something I can say about Naoya, if anything, he just gets worse and worse haha we also gotta take into account the kind of background he grew up in, he had everything and then he lost it, not only that, he was completely abandoned by his family. He kind of relates to Y/N like that (with her losing her family, freedom, and the abuse she suggested under his family), and it's more than obvious that he wants her to be happy. He's trying :( man, f the zen'in clan 😭

and omg Naoya 😭😭😭😭“why aren’t you talking to me :(“ HAHAHAH I laughed out loud for real. He's like "write all the letters you want, but at least write one to me :(" silly Naoya, the one thing Y/N should be writing up is a divorce and a lawsuit tbh. Once again, you're spot on! He's too... busy with everything that's happening in his life right now (oh boy imagine how the elders chewed him up after failing his exam ahahha MORE TO COME ON CHAPTER 28) and he relied on Junko to keep Y/N at bay, so yeah, he does not suspect a thing... he really trusts the clan that doesn't like him haha.

If this was pre-failure, he would've been absolutely pissed, I dread to think what would happen with Y/N :( not even Ranta would be able to stop him (doubt he could anyways but... yeah).

But post-failure, when he's finally realizing that maybe he's the reason his marriage with Y/N is shit... who knows :>? Let's not forget Naoya literally returned as a curse because he was too stubborn to admit defeat by Maki (and her mother) 💀 soooooo.......................

In other words, we don't know yet what's up with the letters :( there's too many things to account for, Hinata being busy, mail theft, outside forces working against Y/N, to find an appropiate conclusion. It could really be everything and nothing at the same time.

But I do know that all will be revealed in time :)

Once again, thank you so much for your ask 🥺❤ I'm so glad you continued to support this story even after my hiatus, and for that, I'll be eternally grateful 🥺

Hope you have a wonderful week, take care, and see you soon ❤❤❤

[live-the-fangirl-life]

Misplaced Mail - Part 2

Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn - Mini-Series

How does Rowan respond to Aelin's comment about her using him instead of the new toy she purchased?

Fic Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Read on Ao3

Part 1 | Part 3

Warnings: Language, NSFW

4644 words

*******

Aelin’s heart pounded furiously as she leaned back against her door. The smirk she’d plastered on slipped and she stared at nothing as she heard her last words echo in her head.

You know, maybe you could help me out sometime and I wouldn’t need this.

‘You’ being Rowan, her insanely hot neighbor who opened ‘this’, the vibrator she’d ordered.

Shit. Fuck. What did she just do?

Realizing she was still holding the toy, she tossed the box across the living room and dropped her head in her hands, groaning.

Oh, Gods, she would never be able to look Rowan in the eyes again. Whatever tentative friendship they had was over; she’d thrown a dildo-shaped wrecking ball into their barely-there relationship. It didn’t matter anymore that the infatuation she had with him had slowly grown into a full-blown crush—maybe something even more—but now, there was no way he would ever speak to her again.

Shit.

And regardless of her crush, she was still his neighbor. They’d have to see each other on a regular basis and, fuck, she was going to have to move.

Before she could keep spiraling, a loud, incessant banging thundered from the other side of her door, startling her enough to jump away from the reverberations at her back.

Aelin stared wide-eyed as the knocking continued.

Obviously, it was Rowan knocking, there’s no reason why it would be anyone else, but why the hell was he here? Was he going to make fun of her? No, he wasn’t mean, and if the last few minutes were any indication he was far too embarrassed at the whole thing.

The knocking kept coming and she took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart, and slowly walked back to her door. She stood on her toes to peer out the peephole and froze.

It was Rowan and he was staring directly at her.

He didn’t look like he did a minute ago all red-faced and fumbling for words, he looked determined. But it was hard to tell for sure through the distorted glass. What she was sure of, though, was that he was looking right at her.

Aelin ducked down and took another breath. She didn’t know why she was so nervous. Normally she was cool and confident, but right now she felt like butterflies were having a circus in her stomach.

Get yourself together, Aelin.

She schooled her features and opened the door.

Rowan’s eyes connected with her’s the moment the door swung open to reveal his towering body with one arm resting on the door frame above his head.

She didn’t say anything as he continued to stare at her. She didn’t think any coherent words would come out if she tried, not given the way his eyes were filled with so much heat it almost knocked her back a step. This wasn’t the same embarrassed Rowan who moments before was blushing and stuttering. This also wasn’t the reserved and collected Rowan who she’d had conversations with and who she’d developed a massive crush on. No, this Rowan was something else.

Gone was the pink tinting his face and ears, now replaced by a predatory focus and undisguised desire. He was looking at her like she was an oasis and he was a man dying of thirst. And not a small part of her was thrilled by it.

A slow smirk spread across his face at her silence, but not willing to be outdone, Aelin drew up the courage that allowed her to make her earlier comment.

She arched a golden brow and asked, “Yes, Whitethorn?” Internally, she praised herself for how calm her voice sounded.

The smirk grew as he slowly and deliberately let his eyes drop to survey her from head to toe and back again. She felt every nerve in her body light up as if his gaze was a tangible thing washing over her.

When his eyes met her once more, he took a step forward so that he was mere inches away from her. Aelin could feel the heat of him and barely resisted the urge to reach out and touch him.

She sucked in a sharp breath as he ducked his head low, his breath caressing her ear as he said in a low voice, “If you really want my help, then call me by my first name.”

She couldn’t stop the shiver that coursed through her as his words hit their mark.

Rowan didn’t move any closer, but she could feel his breath on her skin. He was waiting for her answer before making another move, she realized—trying to see if she was serious or not. When her silence stretched out a few seconds longer, he stepped back. Aelin met his eyes and even though she could see uncertainty there, she knew her own had turned molten at his words. She didn’t think her fantasies about her neighbor would’ve ever come true, but maybe today she’d be proven delightfully wrong.

Aelin licked her lips and it was her turn to smirk as she noticed his attention zero in on the movement. His eyes snapped back to hers and she knew he understood the look of desire and lust she was giving him. A moment passed and she could’ve sworn something electric passed between them.

“Rowan.”

It was as if his name on her lips was permission and a summons because the next moment had her lips crashing against his.

Aelin felt like she’d been struck by lightning. She suddenly couldn’t get enough, and neither could Rowan, it seemed.

Her hands tangled in his hair as his hands gripped her hips, each trying to pull the other closer. Their mouths moved in synch and Aelin couldn’t get enough of the man whose hands now roamed over her body. One of his large hands drifted down to squeeze her ass and she moaned into his mouth at the feeling of it.

Rowan walked farther into her apartment, never taking his mouth from hers, and guided her backward as he slammed the door behind him. She heard the lock click and then both his hands were back on her body. He kept backing her up until she felt the cool marble of the kitchen island at her back causing her to arch further into Rowan. His low growl as her breasts pushed more firmly against him sent hot anticipation coursing through her.

Their lips kept moving together while their tongues tried to savor the taste of the other.

His hands slipped down to the backs of her things, just below her ass, and easily lifted her up onto the counter. Aelin loosed a low moan at the change in position and the thought of all the things those strong arms could do to her. She ran her hand down his muscled biceps and forearms...yes, there were lots of things he could do to her.

She brought one hand to his hair as the other clawed down his back. He made another sound low in his chest and spread her legs so he could step further into her space. His hands on her waist trailed up to graze the undersides of her breasts and she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

Desperate for air, Aelin broke the kiss and tilted her head back as Rowan lost no time in connecting his mouth to her jaw, placing open-mouthed kisses down the column of her neck.

Aelin was on fire. She’d fantasized about this more times than she could count and part of her couldn’t believe it was actually happening. But as Rowan’s mouth continued to kiss and suck along her skin, and as he pressed his hips into hers allowing her to feel his hardness against her body, she knew it was real because her fantasies paled in comparison to this.

She moaned loudly when he found the spot at the base of her neck and collarbone. She felt him smirk against her skin and grip her waist tighter as he sucked a bruise to the sensitive area.

“Rowan,” she gasped and slid her hands across his broad chest and down his arms. She quickly unbuttoned his shirt, forcing him off her neck long enough to take the shirt off and throw it across the room. Then she pulled his face back to hers and kissed him deeply. It only lasted a moment before he was gripping the hem of her sweater and pulling it over her head.

Rowan’s eyes turned near-feral and Aelin had never felt more thankful to not be wearing a bra.

Almost reverently, Rowan murmured, “Beautiful,” his eyes trailing over every inch of exposed skin, “so beautiful.”

The rush of heat the pooled in her core didn’t go unnoticed.

Aelin arched her back and then Rowan was on her. She dropped her head back and moaned as she tried to stay coherent through the rush of sensations. Rowan’s tongue and lips took one peaked nipple and were doing wonders at her breast while his thumb and forefinger rolled and squeezed the other one. She tangled her fingers in his hair and held him to her.

Rowan bit down on her hardened peak the same moment he pinched the other and she thought she might explode just from that. She needed more. He lifted his head and began the same ministrations with the opposite breasts.

Aelin couldn’t stop her whimpers as he worked her oversensitive flesh. Her fingers tightened in his hair as his free hand splayed on her thigh, his thumb rubbing slow circles closer and closer to where she needed him most.

“Oh Gods, Rowan,” she gasped, near overloaded with pleasure and anticipation.

He released her breast with an audible ’pop’ and lifted his face to hers, smirking at her heavy breathing and lust-clouded eyes.

Aelin noticed something shift in his face and he let his smirk drop as he leaned his forehead against hers. He was still watching her with desire and need, but there was something more, too—something deeper.

“Aelin,” he rasped, and his breath fanned across her face. He raised a hand to gently cup her cheek, the gesture infinitely more tender than their actions moments before. She leaned into the touch and that seemed to reassure him as he said, “I’ve wanted this for a long time. This. You.”

Her heart stuttered as he spoke. What? He’d wanted her for a long time? She’d wanted him. Had they both just been too afraid to tell each other? Aelin searched his face for answers. He meant it. She could hear the sincerity of his voice and see it in his eyes. She listened as he kept talking while lightly stroking her cheek.

"You're funny and clever and beautiful. When we talk you get on my last nerve, but somehow those conversations are the part of my day I look forward to most."

She huffed a laugh, but Rowan said, "You're the part of my day I look forward to most."

Her throat felt tight. At a momentary loss for words, Aelin kissed Rowan softly, but with all the happiness she felt at his admission.

When she pulled away, he was still watching her. “Rowan,” his eyes shuttered as she murmured his name, “I want this, too. You, too. I have for a while.” And it was like a weight was lifted from her shoulders as she spoke the words.

Aelin’s heart leaped as a bright smile crossed Rowan’s face, and she couldn’t help but mirror it as she thought about how a mere mistake with their mail led to this. How her gorgeous neighbor had opened her vibrator and became so endearingly flustered that she made a joke about using him instead of the toy. How he’d seen the joke as what it actually was: an invitation. How they had just admitted to liking each other—apparently having done so for longer than either of them knew. And how they were both still half-naked, disheveled, and breathing hard in her kitchen.

He kissed her again and this time it was closer to the heat they shared before, but not quite. Aelin needed more, though, so she said with her normal amount of swagger, “You know, If you’d said something to me sooner,” she paused as he trailed kisses down her neck, “then I wouldn’t have had to spend so much money.”

“What?” He detached his mouth and looked at her in confusion as his hands migrated to her thighs.

She smirked, “You have no idea how much I spent on batteries ever since you moved across the hall.”

His eyes darkened and he growled before threading his fingers in her hair and tilting her head back so he could devour her mouth. This time, it was all tongues and teeth. Her hands clawed down his back as she bit his lower lip and tugged on it before slanting her mouth back over his.

Rowan stepped as close as he could get to her body and moved his hand up to the apex of her thighs. She wanted to sigh in relief as his thumb finally—finally—brushed across her clit. She didn’t sigh, but she did moan when he started rubbing small circles on her, the fabric of her leggings and panties making the fiction deliciously sweet.

Aelin could hardly think straight, but she did have the coherency to realize that Rowan absolutely knew how to multitask. One of his thumbs was rubbing circles on her clit while the rest of his hand gripped her thigh with a bruising intensity; his other hand was up massaging her breast, occasionally running that thumb over her nipple, keeping it peaked; not to mention the luxurious way his tongue was moving with hers.

Without warning, he moved his hands to the backs of her thigh and before she could protest the loss of his fingers, he was lifting her from the counter. Aelin wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed a series of marks along his jaw. She thought he’d carry her into her bedroom, but instead, he walked to the couch, apparently deciding the bedroom was too far away.

Rowan sat down on the cushion, keeping Aelin wrapped around him so she had a leg on either side of his thighs, effectively straddling him. Pressed together, they both moaned at the sensation of her nipples rubbing against his hard chest.

Aelin wrapped her arms around his neck and started rolling her hips, desperately trying to get some friction to relieve the ache between her legs. She could feel him, hard and ready, straining in his pants, and Aelin didn’t hold back her groan as she shifted her hips and felt the shape of him press against her core.

Rowan’s hands instantly flew to her hips to grip them and help move her along his hard length. He worked her over his lap a few more times before sliding his handing below the waistband of her leggings to cup her ass in his hands. When he squeezed, she let out a sound halfway between a moan and a whimper.

“Rowan, I need you.” She didn’t think she could wait much longer.

He nipped at her lip and his hands squeezed again before gripping her leggings and panties in a single hold and pulling them down, lifting each of her legs to get them off as quickly as he could.

His hands gripped her hips again but instead of staying there, he used his hold on her to lift her so she was only straddling one thigh. Almost unconsciously, her hips started rolling over his leg. She threw her head back as her naked core ground down against the rough fabric of his pants.

“That’s it.” Rowan’s guttural praise sent another wave of heat coursing through her and she struggled to keep her breathing steady as she rolled her hips faster. “Ride my thigh, baby.” His hands roughly grabbed her hips and moved her faster.

Gods, his voice was almost enough to send her over the edge.

“Rowan, yes,” her grip on his shoulders was so tight she was sure it would leave marks, but she didn’t care, not as the coil in the pit of her stomach tightened with every movement of her body.

He kept one hand on her hip and moved the other so he could rub her clit again. It was almost too much but in the best possible way. She moved faster, pushing down harder against his thigh in a desperate search for more friction. Rowan’s fingers rubbed harder and she screwed her eyes shut as the pressure inside of her built and built.

“You’re so beautiful,” He kissed her neck, “Look at you,” his mouth was right next to her ear sending shivers straight to her core. “Gods, I’ll never get tired of the face you make when you moan my name.”

She was close and his words were quickly sending her to the edge.

“That face, Aelin, is what I’ll see every time I close my eyes.”

She couldn’t respond, just moved her hips faster.

“And all those little sounds coming out of that wicked mouth,” he chuckled darkly, urging her hips to keep moving. “I have all kinds of plans for that mouth.”

She was so close, she could almost taste it—

He sucked on her earlobe, then said in that low purr, “Come for me. I want to watch you come undone knowing exactly who got you there. Come. For. Me.”

Aelin shattered.

All the tension exploded, her head fell into the crook of Rowan’s neck and she opened her mouth in a silent moan. Her legs shook as her orgasm crashed through her in wave after wave of cascading pleasure.

Rowan kept her moving, his hands never leaving her hips. He slowly brought her down from her high, continuing to mutter praises in her ear.

She smiled against his skin; her mind was fuzzy and her body aching in the most amazing way.

Aelin pressed languid kisses along Rowan’s neck. She shifted her hips and could still feel his erection pressing forcefully against his pants. At the movement, he cursed and stood up, wrapping his arms around her waist to keep her pressed against him as he hastily walked them into her bedroom.

Aelin sucked a particularly heavy bruise into the side of Rowan’s neck and decided that the low moan it drew from the back of his throat was one of the sexiest sounds she’d ever heard.

“Mm, Rowan,” She struggled to get out words while attaching her mouth to his skin, “I need you. Now. Please.” The last word she said was through a whimper as his fingers found her clit again before slowly sliding down to run through the juices of her dripping core.

He was still holding her up with one arm as he brought the other to his mouth to suck her juices from his fingers, keeping his eyes locked with hers and moaned at the taste of her.

She was panting; Aelin had never been so turned on. And she needed him—now.

“Ro, please” she tried to squirm in his grip.

She didn’t know if it was the desperation in her voice or the name she used for him, but suddenly she was thrown backward onto the bed, landing with a soft bounce. She laid there, soaking in the image of Rowan prowling towards her while unbuckling his belt and removing his pants and boxers. His hungry eyes didn’t leave her face as hers unabashedly went straight towards his cock as it sprung free. Her mouth watered. He was as beautiful as she imagined, and as deliciously big as he felt when she was grinding down on him.

If hadn’t needed him before—which she absolutely did—she would be desperate now—which she was.

And then Rowan was on top of her with an arm on either side of her body. He paused a moment to look at her sprawled beneath him and slowly dragged a hand down her neck, the valley of her breast, her stomach, and finally down to cup her between the legs. He smirked.

He was about to say something else, but she cut him off, “Later.” She insisted, knowing she was plenty prepared for him, “I need you inside me.” Aelin pulled him down so his full weight was pressing her into the mattress. “Side table, top drawer—condom.”

Rowan blindly reached out and grabbed the small foil from where she said it’d be. He ripped it open and rolled it on.

Aelin raised herself on her elbows and bit her lip as he stepped to the edge of the bed. He smirked again and wrapped his hands around her ankles, pulling her to the edge of the bed with a squeal. Rowan chuckled at the sound and smiled down at her.

She grinned back and relished in the feeling that this wasn’t awkward. As she looked at Rowan smiling above her, she knew it was perfect.

He leaned down to kiss her, deep and passionate, then pulled away and held her gaze.

"Aelin." His hands grazed her body. "Do you want me to fuck you?" She shivered as he held her gaze intently. "Do you want me to make you feel good?"

“Yes. Please, Rowan.”

He pulled her body even closer to his and lined his cock up with her entrance. He didn’t immediately push in, instead, he slid the shaft through her folds, coating himself in her slick. When his tip brushed against her clit, she let out a moan.

“No more teasing, I need—”

And then he was sliding into her. And in. And in. Her back arched and she cursed as Rowan bottomed out.

“Fuck, Aelin,” Rowan hissed from between his teeth, his brow furrowing in concentration to stay still while she adjusted. “You’re so tight. You feel so good.”

She couldn’t form words, but she lifted her hips in silent request and Rowan took that as permission to let go

He grabbed one of her legs, resting it on his shoulder, and used his hand to hold her other leg wide open. He didn’t hold back, he thrust into her with everything he had. It was as if the months of silent desire all crashed into him now and he had to show her, physically, just how much he wanted—needed—her.

He shifted the angle of her hips and then he was hitting the spot deep inside that sent her head falling back and a string of curses flying out of her mouth.

“Oh! Fuck, Rowan, yes!” She met his eyes and he turned his face to kiss her calf still resting on his shoulder.

He didn’t slow his pace as he grinned down at her, “There you are. I thought you’d gone mute on me.” She didn’t correct him by saying she’d been anything but mute. Speechless, maybe. Mute? Absolutely not.

Rowan was relentless, and she loved it. His hips kept snapping into hers sending shockwaves of pleasure surging through her. Already, she could feel another orgasm building.

One moment he was fucking her, the next he pulled fully out, gripped her hips, and flipped her over so she was on her hands and knees. Rowan pulled her hips back to his and then he was spearing into her again. Aelin cried out with every thrust, pushing her hips back to meet Rowan’s movements.

Then he slowed down to a leisurely pace and she tried to get him to speed up again but then she felt him lean over her so his chest was pressed flush to her back. She shivered as he spoke into her ear.

“Are you close, Aelin?” His voice was rough from exertion. He was still moving in her but not nearly as forcefully as needed him to be. She wanted him to unleash himself, to fuck her so she couldn’t walk straight.

“Yes! Yes, yes, please, fuck me, Rowan,” she gasped out.

He huffed a dark laugh and moved one hand down her front to tweak her nipple and causing her to cry out. Then his hand drifted further until he was rubbing her clit in harsh bursts. He stood back up, this time pulling her with him, so she was kneeling on the bed with him standing behind her.

She could feel herself getting there.

“You can do it. I know you can, baby.” He picked up his pace and rubbed his fingers in time with his thrusts.

Oh gods, oh gods, it was too much. It was so good.

“Look at me.” Rowan grabbed her chin and tilted her head to the side to plant a wet kiss to her mouth. She wrapped her arms around the back of his head to keep herself in place as he continued to fuck her into oblivion. “I want you to look at me when you come. I want you to know who made you feel this good.”

“You,” Aelin gasped, “You, Rowan. Gods, You.”

She felt her orgasm climb higher. She was right on the cusp of something incredible and she wanted more, needed more.

As if he could sense that she was right on the edge, he moved the hand that was gripping her hip down to her entrance where he kept thrusting relentlessly.

“You’re doing so well.” Another kiss to her neck. “I’m going to help you do even better.”

His middle finger gently brushed the place where his cock was thrusting inside her and—while still using his other hand to rub her clit—pushed his finger inside her along with his cock.

Her head fell back onto his shoulder and he continued to kiss her neck, while she let out a broken moan at the added stretch as he fingered her and fucked her simultaneously.

It felt so gods damned good.

“The next time you touch yourself,” his voice sounded especially strained in her ear, but she couldn’t focus on anything beyond the sensations he was making her feel. “I want you to think of me. To remember how good I fucked you, and how hard I made you come.”

His words were her undoing.

Aelin screamed as released barreled through her. Her legs shook and it was only Rowan’s arms around her that kept her from falling on her face. She felt his thrusts falter and then he cursed as he came, filling up the condom as her walls fluttered around him.

He held her against his body until he could steadily set her down on the bed and slowly pull out of her.

She whined softly at the sudden emptiness, but a moment later Rowan was there lying on the bed next to her and pulling her into his arms.

When she opened her eyes, Rowan was already staring at her with a soft, post-sex, dazed grin.

She knew she didn’t look any less dopey with her smile.

Rowan ran a soothing hand down her arm, gently pulling her closer to him. “Are you okay?” The concern in his face made her heart flutter.

“Better than okay,” Aelin rested an arm across his chest and laid her head on his shoulder, “that was amazing.”

She could help a small giggle that escaped as Rowan grinned at her praise.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the day I moved in and saw you outside your door watching as I was moving boxes."

She raised a brow and smirked, “well, I’ve wanted you to do that ever since you moved in and I watched you effortlessly haul those boxes around."

He huffed a laugh and said, “Get coffee with me tomorrow.”

Aelin smiled broadly and tucked herself even closer into Rowan’s side. “It’s a date.”

*****

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[princess-of-riviaa]

Claiming

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Erin Quincy (1st person POV)

Summary: You experience your first heat as a brand new shifter. Walter, being the good alpha he is, helps out his struggling omega.

Warning(s): depictions of animal attack, age gap (Erin is 25, Walter is 38), alcohol use, a bit of angsty Walter, dirty talk, possessiveness

Author’s note: This is my first piece of work I made for the ABO Universe. I hope you guys like it!

Word count: 3,931

Two weeks ago, I’d been on a camping trip with my two step-brothers, Scott and Chris, when my life had forever changed. One second, the hiking trail had been clear and safe; the next, some kind of animal was jumping out of the brush and fighting my breakfast sausage out of my hands. I later learned that the animal had been a wolf, but that realization only came when I had my first Shift three days later.

Though the night had escaped my memories, when I woke up in an unfamiliar mansion to an unfamiliar group of faces the next day, they filled me in on the details. The man in front—tall, with deep brown curls that were almost as distracting as his thick, muscular shape—had told me that I had Shifted the night before and ended up on their doorstep. And yes, Shifters—not werewolves, as most fantasy books called them—were real, Walter informed me during my surprised silence.

Walter Marshall—that was the stunning stranger’s name. He was an Alpha of one of the two packs that lived in this mansion, and I was more than welcome to join them. I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around what had become of myself—and I knew better than to hope that my family would understand—so I accepted the generous offer.

I had been with the pack for three weeks now. Winnie Marshall, Walter’s twin sister, was the Alpha for the mansion’s other pack. Walter had found me first—he had actually been the one to stop me from giving into my animalistic instincts on the night he found me, and had been the one to bring me in from the pouring rain—and technically had claim to me. But, because I hadn’t officially been claimed by him, Winnie argued that she had as much right to me as her brother did. So she took me under her wing. She’d explained everything to me, been there in my moments of panic and embarrassment to assure me that everyone goes through this, and it’s not going to last forever.

The only other two people in the house that were my age were two betas. One of them, a young man named Mike (though everyone called him Mikey), was the center of attention at the mansion, though he surprisingly had his eyes set on the quiet girl who loved books. Her name—I met her last, simply because she’d locked herself in the library for a week-long reading challenge—was Amber Connelly. As the only other beta under the age of thirty, she had an… interesting relationship with Mikey. And by that I mean they were both head over heels for each other, though they only ever bickered, and neither of them seemed aware of the others’ feelings. But they never acted on their feelings, and no one ever expected them to, simply because Mikey was Walter’s Beta, and Amber was Winnie’s, and packs didn’t mix, especially if their was a chance of a Claiming.

Claiming—that was the part of all of this that had intrigued me the most. It started with a bite. One person had to bite their partner directly over the heart, hard enough to leave a scar that would be there forever. In another sense, one wolf had to mark their partner as their territory. It was possessive in every sense of the word, and I couldn’t deny that deep down inside of me, I wanted to share that intimate, lifelong promise with Walter.

It was insane for a number of reasons. Not only had I met the Alpha just a few weeks ago, but I wasn’t even officially in his pack, and a Claiming with an Alpha would make me second-in-command. There were a few steps I would be skipping if that happened. Not to mention that Walter Marshall was the only unclaimed Alpha over the age of thirty-five in the entire city, and there was a reason for that. I didn’t know the details, but I knew it had something to do with his past. Our age was another factor. He was almost 40, while I had just turned 25.

And yet, here I was, wanting his mark anyways. He was quiet and reserved enough to make him mysterious, and that only pulled me in more. In the first week I was there, I found any way I could to talk to him, mainly to thank him for giving me a safe place for this new season of life. But he had disappeared with Andy and Charles Barber—two Beta brothers—for an entire week. Winnie had only said that they were taking care of business on the other side of the city, but when the three men came back, there was a darkness to all of them that told me whatever they had been doing… It hadn’t been fun.

Walter was harder to reach in the days that followed. When I would knock on his office door and ask him if he was able to train me today—something both he and Winnie insisted on their packs doing in their daily routine—he would snap and order me to leave, the sound of his growl following me out the door. He apologized for his behavior three days later, and bought takeout from my favorite restaurant to make it up to me, but I still couldn’t forget that side of him. The side of him that turned his soft blue eyes completely black. The part of him that was all animal, only selfishness and cold edges.

And yet, even after all of that, I still wanted him. I’d lost count of the number of times I’d woken up panting in the middle of the night, rising out of a dream of those blue eyes looking down at me as he fucked my throat, making me gag and cry around his cock. The sound of my own moans had forced me awake before dawn this morning. The memory of Walter’s intense gaze holding my reflection’s as he fucked me in the bathroom had followed me all day.

I was still wound up as I made my way to the game room. The smell of alcohol was strong throughout the house. The packs were celebrating Walter and Winnie’s thirty-eighth birthday tonight, and everyone, it seemed, was intent on getting blackout drunk. There were three kegs in the living room. It took Shifters a lot longer to get drunk, so I wasn’t surprised to find that the kegs were already halfway empty by the time I filled a cup for myself.

But I was surprised to find Walter perched on the roof when I made my way up to my regular hiding spot. He didn’t look over at me when I climbed onto the roof, but he didn’t seem startled when I took a seat beside him, and I knew his Shifter senses had probably heard me before I’d even climbed up the stairs that led up here.

“I see you stole my hiding spot,” I remarked as I took a sip of my beer.

“This way my hiding spot first, actually.” There’s amusement in his eyes as he looks at me out of the corner of his eye, but the amusement is only a cover. I note the darker emotion hiding beneath, and I recognize it instantly. It’s the same thing I’ve been feeling since my first Shift.

Loneliness.

“So technically you stole it from me,” Walter continued, giving me a ghost of a smile.

Though the air was light between us for once, I couldn’t stop myself from asking, “Why are you hiding on your birthday?”

He sighed and looked out at the valley below us. The city lights reflected in his eyes, making the blue in them sparkle. He chugged back the rest of his beer before answering, “I’m thirty-eight tonight.”

“So I’ve heard.” The light tone was clearly forced, but I continued anyways. “Congratulations.”

His long fingers parted thick curls before he clutched the roots of his hair and squeezed, looking frustrated and… defeated. “I’m thirty-eight—and I still don’t have a goddamn mate.”

Oh.

I didn’t know what to do. Part of me was more than ready to say, Take me. Claim me. I’ll be your mate. But I knew that was overstepping. I didn’t know how to comfort him.

“Walter—” I began.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t burden you with this. I think I’ve had a few too many drinks.”

We both knew that was a lie. He was too collected to be drunk. Everything—save for his brutal honesty—screamed completely sober.

“I just…” He went on, then stopped himself.

I put a hand on his arm and had to physically force myself not to lean into the warmth of his body heat. When his blue eyes met mine, I nearly lost control. God, I wanted him. I wanted to ran my hands through his hair; wanted to know the way his moans sounded as he filled me up; wanted to feel his mouth on me—

I shook my head in an attempt to clear my mind. “It’s okay,” I told him. “You can tell me.”

He hesitated.

“You’ve been there for me since I got here,” I pointed out. “It’s only fair that I do the same for you.”

His eyes scanned my face, and I got the feeling that he could see into my soul. It unnerved me as much as it made me want to bear myself to him. He finally said, “You don’t owe me anything, Erin. I was being a good Alpha.”

“You let a stranger into your home,” I argued. “That qualifies as more than simply being a good Alpha. There’s other packs in the city, yet you were the only one who opened your door to me. And you’ve let me stay here when you could have just as easily sent me away. You’re not just a good Alpha, Walter, you’re…” I almost said, you’re everything, but I caught myself.

But the way he looked at me… I had a feeling that he heard what I didn’t say.

“And maybe you think I don’t owe you,” I went on, “but I want to be there for you. I want to give you whatever you need.”

His eyes left my face to stare at the hand I placed on his arm. He reached for it, and at first I thought he was going to push me away, but he simply held my hand between his own. He opened my fingers and stared at my palm as if he was going to tell me my future. A thick, calloused finger traced across the lines on my palm. The touch was simple and gentle, but it made me shiver nonetheless.

“I’m the only Alpha in the city without a mate,” he finally admitted. “That fact has never bothered me before. I always liked being on my old. I thought I was better that way. It was enough always having to keep an eye on Winnie; I never had a want for someone else to look out for.”

“But now…?” I guessed there was a “but” in that sentence.

His focus was locked on his fingers as he traced the outline of my hand. Something about the way his rough skin felt against mine… It made heat stir in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t realize I had started to lean into him until there was just a few inches of space left between us.

“But now,” he finally said, and sighed. “Now I find myself wanting something I don’t know if I can have.”

“A mate?” Why couldn’t he have that?

“You.” He finally met my gaze, just as the words clicked in my mind.

Heat made my cheeks burn bright red as I repeated his words. “M-me? What do you mean?”

“I mean I want you.” His gaze was unapologetic, yet the twist of his mouth… I could tell he was fighting some internal battle. “When I first saw you in that back alley, hiding under that shed from the rain…”

I was silent as he spoke, simply because I’d never heard all the details of what had happened that night, and Walter was the only one with that memory.

“I had Shifted too,” he admitted. “The pack Shifts together on full moons. The Omegas and some of the Betas are less overwhelmed by it if we’re all together. But something had drawn me away from the pack, like some string had pulled me out onto the streets…”

Only once he said something did I realize that I did remember a part of that night. It wasn’t a memory of what had happened, but rather… a feeling I had gotten. Like someone had been calling my name and I had gone in search of them.

“I’d never experienced anything like that before,” Walter continued. “And when I found you, shaking from fear and the cold… I knew I had to do something. The urge to protect you was overbearing. So I brought you home. I told myself it just from the intensity of the Shift that I felt like that, but when you Shifted back the next morning… I knew I couldn’t just let you walk away. So I told you to stay, and I knew that if you had said no, I would have done anything to change your mind.”

“Walter…” My voice was a quiet whisper as my thoughts began to race. “Do you think… That feeling… I felt it too. Is that what…”

“What having a mate feels like?” he guessed.

All I could do was nod. Somehow I already knew the answer, but I needed to hear him say it.

“Maybe.” When his gaze met mine, I realized he looked as lost as I felt. “I couldn’t say one way or another; I’ve never had a mate. But if it is…” He finally dropped my hand, only to cup my face and pull me towards him. “Listen to me, Erin. Even if…” He paused, as if he was struggling to say it out loud, too. “Even if we’re mates, that doesn’t mean you have to choose me. You can walk away. Hell, you can even…” He practically flinched at these words, as if saying them was a physical blow—“You can even choose someone else. Another man. I’m not going to force you into anything.”

I didn’t know what to say. “I think I want another drink.”

Disappointment flashed in his eyes, but it was gone in a blink. He rose to his feet, insisting that he get it for me. I watched him walk away. He took four steps—and froze. His entire back went rigid, too stiff for a human. His Shifter instincts had picked up on something.

I froze, wondering what was happening, what he had picked up on.

But he merely turned to face me again. Slowly. “Erin.”

I tried to sense his source of distress, but I couldn’t pick up on anything. The only thing I picked up on was how that look in his eyes sent heat straight to my core. “What is it, Walter?” I was on my feet and closing the distance between us in a matter of seconds.

“Don’t move!” he practically yelled.

I paused, almost jumping at his volume.

His eyes were wild, frantic, looking like an animal caught in a trap.

“What’s wrong?” I asked again, resisting the urge to reach out to him.

“Do you know what’s happening to you?” Every muscle in his body was taut as he asked the question.

I frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He simply said, “You’re going through heat.”

Oh.

Winnie had explained that to me on one of my first days here. She’d said it happens to every female Shifter. Her hormones—particularly the horny ones—exploded, and every male Shifter around her could sense it. Apparently, it drove the males as crazy as the females, though it was dangerous to be an Omega—specifically an unclaimedOmega—around any Alphas while in heat.

That’s why Walter wasn’t moving, wasn’t even breathing: he was trying not to pounce on me and take what he wanted. What we both needed.

All those dreams about him… They finally made sense. I was preparing for my first heat.

Only once he brought it to my attention did I realize just how hot I was. My heart was hammering in my chest, flames boiling beneath my skin, and—god, when had I gotten so wet?

“Walter…” My voice was a high-pitched whine.

“You’ll be okay.” He didn’t sound convincing in the slightest. The look in his eyes matched the relentless ferocity rising in my core.

God, I needed him. “Please…”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t, Erin. We’re both unclaimed. I won’t be able to control myself—”

I took a step towards him—and practically cried out. The burning in my core—between my legs—it was unbearable. I needed to ease the ache inside of me. My hand moved of its own accord towards my legs, and before I knew it I was touching myself over my jeans.

Walter’s eyes were locked on my hand. “Erin… you’re killing me.”

“Please, Walter,” I begged, my body no longer under my control. “I need you. I can’t breathe—”

That was when he kissed me. He wasn’t the first person I had kissed, but he felt like the first person who mattered. Our mouths molded together and I moved against him in a way that said, I’m choosing this. I’m choosing you.

“God, I can smell you,” he breathed into my neck, his low voice nothing more than a moan. “You’re already wet for me, baby.”

All I could do was moan as he pressed me against his erection. His mouth trailed down my neck, over my clavicle, and stopped over my heart.

“I want you,” I cried out as I ran my hands through his hair. “Mark me, Walter. Please.”

He brought his mouth to my chest, but he didn’t bite me like I expected him to. Instead, he brushed a soft kiss against my skin. I whined as he pulled away and moved me from his lap.

“Did I do something wrong?” I panicked, feeling like an idiot—

“No,” he assured me. “You’re… god, you’re perfect. But I’m not about to fuck you on the roof. I doubt you’ll want the entire neighborhood to hear you moaning for me.”

My face flushed instantly, but I didn’t say anything as he rose to his feet and pulled me inside, not stopping until we were in his room. An Alpha’s room was a place very few people ever saw. It was more intimate than a regular bedroom; it was stepping into his territory, walking onto his turf, and I knew that something had permanently changed between us as I crossed the threshold into the room.

The room was rather simple. A king-sized bed was pressed against the left wall. The crimson sheets were the only color in the room. The right side of the wall had a desk covered in files and papers. Newspaper clippings hung above it, stamped into the wall with thumb tacks. I didn’t have a moment to read what all the papers were about before Walter distracted me.

He arms wrapped around me as he lifted me up in the air. My legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. I clung to his shoulders, but he held me easily, as if I weighed no more than a few pounds. The show of pure strength did nothing to help the wet mess between my legs.

Walter walked us to the bed and lied me down on my back. He hovered over me but didn’t move to touch me. The longing and lust in his eyes was so vibrant, so undeniable, that I writher beneath him.

But his tone was calm as he said, “I need to ask you again. Is this what you want, Erin?”

“So much,” I breathed before pulling him against me.

His thigh moved between my legs, and he deepened the kiss as his leg pressed tightly against my core, applying pressure where I needed it most. Though our hands ran along each other’s bodies in a hungry frenzy, he kissed me differently than he had on the roof. It wasn’t rushed or desperate this time, but rather deep and slow and just as sensual. My toes curled.

I cried out as his mouth moved to my ear. He nipped at my earlobe—an action that sent shivers through my body—before whispering, “What is it, baby girl? What do you want? My fingers?”

I writhed against him.

“My mouth?”

Oh, fuck.

“Both?”

A wanton moan escaped me before I could stop it.

“Or are you already too desperate? That’s what it smells like to me. My little omega’s falling apart and I haven’t even touched you yet. You’re already desperate for me to fill your aching cunt, aren’t you, baby girl?”

His tone was different than I’d ever heard it. He spoke in a low, husky voice, and his tone was teasing but demanding at the same time. It made me dizzy.

“Already forgotten your words, omega? Has the heat gotten to your brain?” He buried his face in the crook of my neck and rubbed his nose along the skin below my ear. He was scenting me. “Or is it your Alpha who’s gotten to you?”

Instead of answering, I clawed at his clothes desperately, trying to undress him in my lustful haze. He allowed me to take his shirt off, though he undid his pants himself. His body… how was he even more impressive naked? I took one look at those sculpted muscles, at the dark swirls of hair that covered his chest and stomach, and knew that that was the kind of body that put the gods to shame. His cock bounced against his stomach as he stepped out of his underwear. It was thick and long, and as I watched the red, aching tip release pre-cum, I wondered how I could possibly fit his girth inside of me.

“My turn,” he breathed before moving to hover over me again.

One minute I was clad in my shorts and t-shirt, and the neck my clothes were in shreds on the floor. Walter’s hungry gaze made note of every inch of skin I beared for him, and I was too fucked out to feel self-conscious.

“Fuck me, Alpha,” I begged. “I need you inside of me!”

He growled before spreading my legs and pressing his length against my core. Our lips met just as he pushed inside me, and my nails dug into his shoulder at the burst of pleasure that ripped from me. His mouth was on my chest a second later, and as he kneaded my breasts in his hands, his teeth cut into the skin over my heart.

Claiming me.

...

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[honeypiehotchner]

Hey, I’m having a kinda shit day and my social anxiety and depression are acting up, I love your writing, I was wondering if you might write something sweet or fluffy and funny with the Bau? I dunno how to do requests but I thought it couldn’t hurt to ask.

CRIMINAL MINDS MASTERLIST

i absolutely can! 💗 so sorry you’re having a shit day (or were, since i’m definitely a few days late)

i think the bau members would all take care of you in their own special way when your social anxiety or depression acts up

spencer, for example, would totally ask you if you want to get away from the crowds of people and go for a walk and find a bookstore or antique shop or small café for some coffee or tea and snacks

he would for sure order a tea or hot chocolate for you though because those help anxiety (coffee can make it worse, and he would absolutely know this and would tell you all the stats about it)

he would also ramble on and on as much as he can just to distract you from your anxiety

i know for a fact this boy would do it too if your depression is acting up

because you wouldn’t feel like talking or doing much of anything besides being alone, but he knows that being alone can make it worse

so he’d sit with you and either read aloud to you or start rambling about something he knows you enjoy hearing about

just to keep you company and try to scare the bad thoughts away with all his rambling

morgan isn’t much different, i think, but he’s better at getting you out of your head with his pep talks when your social anxiety gets in the way

he would definitely pull you aside and say his famous, “talk to me, what’s going on?” line

he’d hold you if you need to cry, and he’d probably encourage it

but he’d still remind you of how strong you are, even as you’re crying

if your depression is acting up, he would definitely crack as many jokes as he can, and then some more

he’d probably also try to flirt with you more (if you’re okay with it) because something about derek morgan complimenting you will boost your mood on any given day

if you try hiding it, though, i just know he’d pull a “enough is enough” moment on you like he does to garcia in season 7

garcia is special because there’s no way you can ever frown around her, so when she does see you frowning, it takes no time at all for her to remedy the situation

anything from a movie night to running new pet names for morgan by you (sometimes completely batshit insane ones just to make you smile) to letting you hold or play with any of the fun things she has sitting around

retail therapy with garcia!!!!!!!

i just KNOW she would take you on a shopping trip

and even if you don’t particularly enjoy shopping, you’d love spending that time with her and all her craziness

she would hold up the craziest pieces of clothing and ask you if you’d wear it, just to get your reaction

but if your social anxiety is too high for that, i also know she’d be up for a quiet night in with sappy rom coms and junk food

i hope this helps!! sorry i didn’t do the rest of the BAU, but i couldn’t think of anything for them and i didn’t want it to seem half-assed (but maybe when i do, i’ll do a part 2!)

[lettheladylead]

The Golden Heir Chapter 6 - Blood [Ch1] [Ch2] [Ch3] [Ch4] [Ch5] [Ch7] [Ch8]

Dickie opened her eyes to find herself tied up and in a room with a lot of unfamiliar faces. There were a bunch of tied up kids, and two little girls talking to them, and then a surprisingly familiar person was tied to two other people in the corner of the room.

As the boys (triplets? They looked familiar, like she’d seen them on the news) turned to talk to the one little girl that was tied up, Dickie looked over at the adults and sat up straight to make sure she was seeing things right.

“...Gyro?”

Everyone in the room turned to look at her, and everyone looked massively confused except for the two girls that weren’t tied up.

Gyro in particular looked like he was understanding the situation less and less. “...Dickie? Wha...what are you doing here?!”

She looked around the room and noticed that one of the triplets was staring at her like he knew her from somewhere. The other two were animatedly discussing how their Uncle Scrooge was faring in a fight and Dickie finally realized who they all were - Huey, Dewey, and Louie, Scrooge McDuck’s nephews! She wasn’t an expert, but she’d read articles about their family before.

“I’m, uh...not really sure,” she said quietly. “My grandma told me to just do whatever these weird bad guys said or else they’d hurt me, so…”

“Your grandmother…?” Gyro mumbled, looking around the room. “I don’t understand, I thought they were just taking people with a connection to Scrooge.”

The little girls looked at each other and started giggling as the triplets and the other little girl leaned towards each other. Dickie wondered if they were trying to break the ropes holding them up, but that definitely wasn’t going to work. She opened her mouth to say something again when the screen on the wall blipped and suddenly they were all able to see something very frightening.

The two people she’d interacted with earlier - Heron and Bradford, apparently - were standing atop some sort of structure looking even more evil than before.

“Hi Mommy!” June said with a little wave.

“Each of them will soon be erased from existence as well,” Bradford said, and Dickie propped herself into a fully seated position and then tried to scoot closer to Gyro and the other adults.

She didn’t understand what was happening at all but she could see behind Heron was a small group of people chained up and hanging near the edge of the tower, overtop of what seemed like a swirling vortex of doom. Though she could only see a few strands of blonde in the far corner, Dickie knew exactly who was out there.

“Granny…” she said softly, almost too soft for anyone to hear.

Louie, though, glanced back at her with a confused look on his face.

Everyone was silently watching the scene folding outside until Bradford suddenly shoved Heron into the vortex. Dickie wasn’t able to hear everything they said, but she was pretty sure that wasn’t a part of the plan based on how upset the two girls got.

“MOM!”

“NO!!!”

They yelled out and cradled the screen which had turned to just noise.

The girl that was tied to Gyro spoke up. “Wait, he’s gonna get rid of his own team, too?!”

“Do you know how replaceable clones are?” Gyro responded as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

The two little girls turned towards them looking somber and Dickie finally started to realize what was happening. Those little girls must’ve been misguided clones of the other little girl that looked just like them. The one the triplets called Webby.

She still didn’t know what this all had to do with her grandma or with her. Why had Bradford needed her to get that weird piece of paper? Was that the Papyrus that he yelled about before killing Heron?

“Bradford’s lying! Mom told us the story of the Papyrus of Binding. It can only be found by a direct descendant of Scrooge!” the red triplet explained. “I didn’t find it!”

“Me neither!”

“Nah-uh!”

Webby looked confused. “But then...why did Bradford try to have me find it?” She swung around for a moment. “I’m not...I mean...what Granny told me earlier…”

The boys looked at each other. “What did she tell you?”

“That I’m not really her granddaughter…” Webby said sadly, staring down at the floor. “That she found me as a baby in F.O.W.L. headquarters. And Bradford said I was made by F.O.W.L. But...why?”

A heavily-accented voice filled the room with a sing-song response. “Well, obviously they were trying to create a descendant of Scrooge McDuck!”

Everyone stared at the man holding the harmonica and he looked back as if he hadn’t said something strange. “What?”

“So you’re saying…” Huey’s face contorted through a hundred expressions as he put his thoughts together. “May and June are made from Webby and...Webby is made from...Uncle Scrooge?”

Webby’s mouth was hanging open. “Bless me bagpipes…”

“Wait, so, like, does that make Webby Scrooge’s daughter?” Dewey mumbled. “Then why didn’t the Papyrus appear for her?”

“I guess the Papyrus didn’t count it,” Huey said. “If Webby is a genetically modified clone, then I suppose she isn’t technically a descendant.”

“But that doesn’t change the fact that they have the Papyrus!” Webby yelped. “So then...how did…?”

Louie’s eyes widened and he turned the group of boys around to look back at Dickie. She knew she needed to say something but felt awkward interrupting during this moment of revelations for their family, but she was starting to come to a conclusion of her own and that needed her full attention.

“Your name is...Dickie, right?”

Gyro looked between Louie and Dickie and almost jumped when he realized what was happening.

“Yeah...um…” Dickie mumbled, looking down at the floor.

“You look a lot like our Aunt Goldie,” Louie continued. The other kidnapees in the room gasped, Gyro and Von Drake excluded, and Louie nodded feeling very confident in his conclusion.

“...Aunt Goldie, huh?” She looked up at Louie and grinned sheepishly. “To me, she’s just...Grandma Goldie.”

“WHAT?!” Huey shouted, shaking the boys around. “Grandma like...like grandma grandma? Goldie O’Gilt?!”

“...yeah.”

Webby was staring at her so intensely and Dickie couldn’t look back. “So...did the Papyrus appear to you?”

Dickie nodded after a moment of hesitation. “He didn’t tell me what it was! I was just following orders so he wouldn’t kill anybody!”

Gyro let out a loud, inhuman noise. “You’ve been related to Scrooge this entire time and never thought to mention it?”

“Well I-I didn’t know!” Dickie yelled, struggling against the rope around her. “She always told me she didn’t know who my grandpa was!”

The kids all looked at Louie, knowing he had a special relationship with Goldie and might have more insight on this situation than the rest of them. He just shook his head. “I’m sure Aunt Goldie had her reasons for keeping this from Uncle Scrooge.”

“Or maybe she...she really didn’t know!” Dickie chimed in. “Just ‘cause this Bradford guy figured it out doesn’t mean Granny knew, right?”

“Oh, she definitely knew,” Von Drake said suddenly, making everyone look at him again. He seemed to have all the answers that no one else did. “Sure, Goldie likes to have fun, but she’d never carry a baby to term unless it was ol’ Scrooge McDuck’s, no doubt about that.”

“...how can you possibly be so sure about that?” Gyro said with a judgemental glare. The girl between them grimaced.

Von Drake opened his mouth to answer, but then stared at the gaggle of children in front of him and quickly shut his beak. “Ah...well. Just, ah, take my word for it.”

Dickie frowned and stared down at the floor. “So...what? I’m...Scrooge McDuck’s granddaughter? And that’s why they brought me here and tied me up? This is kind of insane, you guys know that, right?”

“Considering I just found out I’m a genetically modified clone of your grandpa…” Webby started, pouting her beak. “I think it’s not the craziest thing we learned today.”

“...that’s a good point.”

“Hey!” Dewey spoke up, spinning the boys around. “Does this make you Webby’s niece?”

Dickie and Webby looked at each other curiously. “I never imagined myself with an aunt that’s, like, half my age.”

Webby smiled awkwardly at the older girl and started to respond when her clones finally spoke up after staying silent for so long.

“So that’s it? That’s why we were made? So Bradford could find some dumb piece of paper and get rid of us?!” May shouted, staring down at her hands.

“...we weren’t even good enough to do that. We never have been.”

Dickie watched the girls talking to each other as Webby went into a little rant about family, and leaned back against the wall behind her. Sure, alright, she was technically Scrooge McDuck’s family. But that was just through blood. She definitely didn’t feel like his family. She didn’t even know him.

Knowing that her grandma kept this from her made Dickie feel like she wasn’t even a part of the family she knew. Of course families kept secrets from each other. Even the family in front of her - as much as they loved each other and kept each other strong, they clearly had a lot of secrets that’d just come out in the last day. Maybe she shouldn’t be so picky. At least she didn’t just learn she’s a clone of the richest guy on earth.

“Please...help us save our family,” Webby finished, and the two other girls looked at each other for a moment before smiling and reaching out to undo their knots.

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Deja Vu (Ethan x MC)

Summary: While on their honeymoon, Ethan and Naomi come face to face with a blast from his past.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3k+

A/N: Wow, how has it been almost 4 months since I’ve written for Ethan?? Insanity.

~v~

The Waldorf Astoria all the way in Amsterdam is the last place she ever thought she’d see Ethan Ramsey again. A five star hotel on a different continent should be an escape, but here he is, at the front desk talking to the receptionist without a care in the world.

It’s been 15 years, and not much has changed for him. Older obviously, his hair is graying along the temples, a few wrinkles settling in around his eyes, and he has a beard, a full beard. He looks...good. She’ll even admit to saying he looks great. Terribly so.

What are the odds that they’d both end up in the same place at the same time like this? After all this time passing by? She almost wants to say it’s fate trying to tell her something.

So she takes the plunge and greets him. “Ethan? Ethan Ramsey?”

The sound of his name being called grabs his attention, and he turns around. His eyes widen in shock, and she can see just how blue they are.

Ethan almost feels like he’s looking at a ghost. He hasn’t seen Victoria Sharpe since he was in medical school, not since he saw her with Tobias. And it’s been years since he’s given the moment so much as a passing thought. And now she’s here, in the flesh.

Her dark auburn hair is much shorter than he remembers. When they were younger, it flowed down to her waist, and now it doesn’t even pass her shoulders. She’s wearing glasses, the thick frames hiding her wide green eyes and most of her face, a face that had him entranced back in his twenties.

“Victoria Sharpe.”

Victoria smiles brightly and steps forward to hug Ethan, but his body goes rigid and he takes a step back as if her touch could burn him. She almost goes in for a handshake, but Ethan’s hands stay rooted at his side and he gives her a curt nod instead. She receives the message loud and clear that he doesn’t want to touch her.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you!” Victoria says brightly. “How have you been? Last I heard, you were in Boston, right? Under the tutelage of Dr. Naveen Banerji, working on his special diagnostics team.”

“Yeah, I’m still at Edenbrook, er-Bloom Edenbrook, as it goes by these days. I started my residency there and never looked back. But Banerji doesn’t practice anymore, he’s now the chief of the hospital.”

“I spent my residency in Houston, and then I landed in San Francisco, where I’ve been for the past 7 years.”

It’s not information that Ethan was fishing for, nor does he truly care. Not wanting to be terribly rude, Ethan hums, acknowledging the fact that he heard her speak. He doesn’t want to be trapped in an awkward small talk situation with this woman, especially when he has nothing to say.

Victoria frowns. Ethan was always a tough nut to crack, even when they were dating, but there’s an uncomfortable distance between the two of them now, and she doesn’t know how to navigate it.

“Are you in Amsterdam for the AMA conference as well?” Victoria asks. Surely this is the best way to get him to talk: their shared love of medicine. “There’s supposed to be a meeting on hematology hosted by Dr. Arthur Saunders, and  I remember how much you admired him back in our John Hopkins days.”

Ethan’s eyebrow raises in question. He didn’t even know there was supposed to be a conference in Amsterdam. He shakes his head. “No, I’m not here for any conference, I’m here with–”

“Okay, the concierge just gave me the rundown on all of the cool places we have to hit up while we’re here! There’s so many restaurants I want to try.”

Victoria watches as a woman excitedly wraps an arm around Ethan’s waist and hugs him close to her. Whatever cold front he was putting on a mere seconds ago dissipates as he smiles warmly, and drops a kiss onto her forehead.

“We’re only here for a week, darling, please pick the restaurants wisely.”

“Apparently, we have to go to some place called Foodhallen. It’s a one stop-shop for all sorts of goodies.”

“That sounds fun,” Ethan murmurs. “How about we go tonight?”

“I was thinking we should order room service tonight,” Ethan doesn’t miss the way her eyes twinkle as she speaks, “so we don’t have to leave the bedroom.”

“Mhmm, I like that line of thinking.”

It becomes apparent that Ethan has forgotten all about her, his attention now solely on the woman clinging to his side. Victoria clears her throat in an attempt to regain some of the attention. When the couple breaks apart, Victoria looks to Ethan, wondering if he’ll introduce her.

When he makes no effort to do so, the woman at his side thrusts her hand out. “Hi, I’m Naomi.”

Victoria grabs her hand, giving it a firm shake. “Victoria.”

She’s gorgeous, Victoria notices it instantly. Her huge brown eyes are deep and expressive, her long curly hair going past her shoulders. Even with bags under her eyes, the younger woman is a stunner.

“Naomi, this is Dr. Victoria Sharpe. We went to medical school together. Dr. Sharpe, this is my wife, Dr. Naomi Valentine.”

Victoria bristles at the introduction. Given their history, reducing her to any old classmate just seems wrong. They were together for almost two years, for goodness sake. They were attached at the hip, and while the relationship didn’t end well, there’s no need to trivialize who she was to him. But she doesn’t dwell on it for long, because she’s more interested in Naomi’s moniker. Out of all the things Naomi could’ve been introduced as, Ethan’s wife was not what Victoria expected to hear. He got married? But Ethan Ramsey isn’t the marrying type. “Your wife?”

The word sends a pleasant shiver up Ethan’s spine and he smiles warmly. Sure, it’s been a week since they exchanged vows and the newness hasn’t worn off yet, but Ethan still can’t believe it. Naomi is his wife, and he’s obsessed with saying it.

“Yes,” Ethan nods. “That’s what I was saying, we’re not here for a conference, we’re actually here for our honeymoon.”

Victoria’s stomach rolls upon hearing that, but she plasters on a smile, nonetheless. Her cheeks hurt and her shiny white teeth are probably blinding them, but Victoria powers through. “Congratulations!”

“Thank you.” Ethan turns to Naomi, Victoria’s presence already fading from his mind. “While you were off making friends with the concierge, I got us checked into our room. Someone already took up our luggage for us. Are you ready?”

“Am I ready to dive onto a pile of down feathers and pass out for the next few hours? Absolutely.”

Ethan takes her hand, interlocking their fingers. “Then let’s go.”

He barely spares Victoria another glance before turning on his heel and walking away, but Naomi, always more gracious and poised than him, gives Victoria a warm parting smile. “It’s always nice to meet a fellow Hopkins alum. Enjoy your stay, Dr. Sharpe!”

“Thank you,” Victoria replies, even though she’s almost positive they didn’t hear. Ethan is whispering something into Naomi’s ear, and she’s giggling as they walk off.

It takes the newlyweds a few minutes to make it to their room—an 1,100 square-foot suite, because Ethan wasn’t going to subject his bride to anything less than the best—and true to her word, Naomi’s first line of business and falling face first onto their bed. It’s covered in red roses which all splay wildly around her, as she gives them no attention.

“I’m exhausted,” she says, the 10 hour flight getting the best of her. Ethan chuckles and grabs her foot, helping her out of her shoes. They fall onto the soft rug with a thud. “Why didn’t we pick somewhere closer for our honeymoon, like New York? The Hamptons would’ve been lovely this time of the year.”

“You said you wanted to add another stamp to your passport.”

“Well stop listening to me,” Naomi grumbles.

Ethan leans over his new wife and kisses the back of her head. “Famous last words, Valentine.”

Naomi rolls over in order to look Ethan in the eye. “So, the woman we met downstairs. That was the Victoria, right? The one you and Tobias were both after?”

Ethan’s eyes close and his head drops at the question. He knows whatever comes next won’t be all that enjoyable.”

He nods anyway. “That was Victoria, the one I thought I was in a relationship with until Tobias threw his hat in the ring. Then we did the back and forth thing for almost 6 months, before she chose to be with him.”

“I’m sorry,” Naomi replies, a small frown playing on her lips. Sure it was a long time ago, but she hates hearing about anything that has caused Ethan pain.

Ge shrugs. He’s long let go of his anger over that situation and the subsequent fallout. “It’s whatever.”

“No, it’s not whatever,” Naomi argues. “She messed with you, and broke your heart.”

“I survived,” Ethan says. “I haven’t thought about that woman since I mentioned her in passing nearly three years ago, on Leland Bloom’s yacht. She didn’t ruin me for future relationships, I didn’t carry a torch for her, there’s no leftover baggage, no need for closure, nothing. If anything, I look back on that time of my like in annoyance. Annoyed at how I lost years of friendship with Tobias over a woman that neither of us ended up with, and annoyed with myself that I let her hold so much power over me.” 

24 year old Ethan was head over heels for Victoria. He would’ve done any and everything for her. And like a siren leading him to certain death, she wielded that power over him—and Tobias—whenever she saw fit. It took him a long time to realize just how toxic and dysfunctional the love triangle really was, and it’s not something he’s particularly keen on rehashing.

“It’s hard to imagine you letting someone hold power over you.”

“You’ve had power over me since the beginning, Valentine. Mind, body, and soul. But the difference is I yield to you, with no hesitation.”

Naomi smiles. He doesn’t talk much, but when he does, he never fails to take her breath away. “Well lucky for you, I intend on using my superpowers for good.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Naomi grabs a handful of her husband’s shirt and pulls him towards her, though it doesn’t take much effort and he comes willingly. Warmth floods his chest, and just like that, all thoughts of Victoria Sharpe are banished from Ethan’s mind, as all he can focus on is Naomi, the smell of her jasmine perfume filling his nostrils and her lips against his.

“Are you sure you’re okay after seeing her?” Naomi asks after breaking the kiss, her hand gently raking through his beard.

“It was a surprise,” Ethan admits. His gaze slides over Naomi’s sparkling engagement ring. “But I’m in Amsterdam with the love of my life, celebrating my honeymoon, and she is nothing more than a memory. You have my full, undivided attention, now and forevermore.”

“Good. You know what we should d-do?” Her breath hitches as Ethan resumes kissing her, the juncture between her neck and shoulder his new target. His tongue slides over the warm skin, her pulse pounding erratically, and Naomi is sure she’s lost the ability to breathe.

“What?”

“Order a bottle of champagne and break in that super huge shower in the en-suite.”

Ethan is off of her in a flash, his hands never leaving her as he sweeps a giggling Naomi off of the bed and into his arms. “I knew I married you for a reason. You have excellent ideas.”

~v~

The next morning, Victoria spots Naomi in the hotel’s restaurant, sipping on a cup of coffee, reading a magazine. It’s a huge five star hotel, part of Victoria hoped she didn’t have to run into the newly minted Missus Ethan Ramsey for the rest of their duration here.

But the other part of Victoria couldn’t stop her morbid curiosity. Who the hell is Naomi Valentine? And what makes her so special?

She spent the night researching the younger woman. Naomi has private social media accounts, but that didn’t stop her from getting information that is public record. Her profile on the Bloom Edenbrook website says she’s from Washington D.C. and got her BS and MD both from John Hopkins. She found news articles and videos detailing an attempted murder that happened at the hospital a few years ago, involving Naomi, the former senator of Massachusetts, and a few other hospital staff. She poured over research articles written by Naomi and Ethan detailing septic shock, an ailment that nearly killed Dr. Naveen Banerji a few years ago.

Unable to stop herself, Victoria marches over to the table currently occupied by her fellow doctor. Sensing her presence, Naomi looks up, shock flitting across her features. Realizing she must look wild, Naomi smiles at her. “Good morning, Dr. Sharpe.”

“Victoria.”

“Good morning, Victoria.”

“Do you mind if I sit?” Victoria asks, gesturing to the empty seat at the table. Wordlessly, Naomi nods her head. “Thank you.”

Why on earth am I here? Victoria thinks to herself. In what universe is the acceptable or appropriate conduct?

“You’re up early,” Victoria says.

“I was too excited to sleep, despite the jet lag.”

Naomi doesn’t say anything further because there’s no need to. She was perfectly content by herself. If Victoria wants to say something, she’s going to have to open her mouth and do so, because Naomi feels no compelling reason to initiate small talk.

The silence stretches for a long time, with Victoria unable to start the conversation. As the painstaking time stretches on, the urge to get up and run away gets stronger and stronger.

Her eyes settle on Naomi’s engagement ring, an incredibly large princess cut diamond and a simple platinum band on top of it, and she’s reminded of why she’s here in the first place. She’s sitting in front of Ethan Ramsey’s wife.

“I’m sorry, this is just...surreal,” Victoria says.

“What?”

“The Ethan I know doesn’t agree with marriage, so to know that he’s on his honeymoon is weird.”

“I love him, he loves me. He said he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me, simple as that. The Ethan I know and the Ethan you knew are vastly different,” Naomi says, making the deliberate distinction. He’s changed a lot in the past 3 years, let alone the past 15.”

“I just can’t imagine it. Back in school, Ethan’s steadfastness was so intense, it was almost like he had tunnel vision. There was absolutely no room for him to see a grey area or compromise.”

Naomi chuckles humorlessly. It’s good to know that part of Ethan has endured. “He’s still like that sometimes. A lot of times. But I argue him down, and it’s been like that since the day we met. I don’t think he was used to it, but I force him to think outside the box. He grounds me when its time to color inside the lines again.”

“Good for you.”

They fall into silence again, though this stretch is a bit more comfortable than the last. 

Naomi takes a sip of coffee before clearing her throat. “Can I ask you something?”

“Ask away.”

“How did things end between you and Ethan?”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s given you all of the gritty details.”

“He hasn’t, actually. I only know the bare minimum.”

Victoria’s face flushes, cheeks turning pink as she thinks back on her relationships with both Ethan and Tobias. “Ethan asked me out during our second year of medical school. He and I...we were good, when we were good. Dating him was fun, he had a confidence about him that choked a room, he was great in bed,” and now it’s Naomi’s turn to flush, and she tilts her head slightly, not knowing how to respond to that. Is she supposed to say something snarky? Laugh and agree? “I’m sorry, that was so inappropriate of me.”

“Apology accepted.”

“While what we had was fun, I was convinced that it was meant to be a fling, something that was going to fizzle out eventually. He never said it aloud, but I know Ethan was in much deeper than I, but we were at a standstill. Then Tobias told me he was interested. I should’ve shut him. And I should’ve told Ethan that our relationship had run its course, but I didn’t. They were at the top of their class, poised to be two of the greatest doctors of our generation, they were extremely gorgeous, and they wanted me.”

Victoria sighs heavily. “I was fully aware of what I was doing, but I didn’t care. You can’t imagine the power trip I was on. I had them wrapped around my pinky finger, if I said jump, they were already 5 feet in the air. I was a young woman in my 20s, I was having more fun than I knew how to handle. I played them like fiddles against each other because I knew I could. I would get away with it. And then Ethan issued an ultimatum, saying I had a decision to make, because he was tired of sharing me. I decided to pick Tobias. He was so charismatic, fun, and easygoing. I was able to justify things because like I said, I couldn’t continue having a real relationship with Ethan. He was vehemently against marriage, like, would go on. He didn’t want children. He wasn’t made for the life I wanted to carve out for the life I wanted to have.”’

Victoria’s nails dig into her palm as she tries to breathe. Had she misjudged the entire situation? If she stuck around and not pulled both men into a love triangle, could she be the one in Naomi’s shoes, wearing a ring the size of the moon on her finger, living happily ever after?

“I’m not particularly proud of my med school days,” Victoria continues. “It was selfish and callous, and I’m sure Ethan probably hates me.”

“He doesn’t,” Naomi insists, with a shake of her head. “So don’t go around holding onto any guilt. Just...learn from it and do your best.”

Victoria locks eyes with Naomi. She wants to dislike her, so much so. If Naomi is horrible, it’d soothe some of the ache in her chest, and she could continue on believing that what she did to Ethan didn’t matter. But she can’t. By all accounts, Naomi Valentine is…impressive. Smart as a whip, gorgeous, and highly accomplished for someone who’s only been a doctor for around 4 years. And the fact that she’s even giving Victoria the time of day proves that she’s a decent person.

“There you are!”

The hairs on Victoria’s neck stand up as she hears Ethan’s voice from behind. She sees him out of her peripheral as he glides to Naomi, either not noticing her presence at the table or choosing to ignore it.

“I needed caffeine,” Naomi replies, craning her neck to greet Ethan with a kiss. “And I decided to let you sleep in.”

“Thank you.”

Victoria averts her gaze. It feels like she’s intruding on a rather intimate moment, and she doesn’t want to interrupt.

When they break away is when Ethan finally spares a glance her way. His eyes go wide, and yeah, that’s confirmation enough that he didn’t notice her.

“Dr. Sharpe,” he exhales deeply through his nose. “I didn’t know you were here.” His eyes flicker over to Naomi and his hackles go up, defensive and ready to strike at any given moment.

Victoria notices it instantly, his protectiveness over Naomi. Her stomach twists uncomfortably. She couldn’t really blame him, their previous relationship ended on a sour note and didn’t inspire any trust within the man.

Before she can open her mouth to explain, Naomi jumps in. “We were just having some old fashioned girl chat,” she says smoothly, touching her husband’s hand, and he does relax a little bit at the contact.

“I’ve taken up too much of your time,” Victoria announces. She stands up. “Thank you for entertaining an old lady.”

“You’re not old, and it’s no problem,” Naomi shoots back. She stands up as well, finishing the rest of her coffee as she does so. “Enjoy the rest of your time here.”

“You as well.”

Victoria watches as Ethan pulls out his wallet. He tosses a few bills onto the table, paying for Naomi’s drink as well as a generous tip. “Are you ready to go?”

“Always.” Naomi slips her arm around Ethan. Come on handsome, we have some obnoxious tourist-y activities to do.”

Before they walk off, Naomi gives Victoria one more glance. Both women nod at each other, silently saying goodbye. Once they’re out of the restaurant, Ethan garners her attention. “What was that about?”

“Nothing. She just wanted to meet the amazing woman who managed to lock down the elusive commitment-phone known as Ethan Ramsey.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“And what did you tell her?”

“Our story isn’t really her business, I said you’ve grown and we love each other, and we wanted to get married. And then she gave me her version of your relationship.” He doesn’t respond to that, but Naomi does hear him scoff slightly. “Do you want to know what she told me?”

“No.”

That’s a shock. If the roles were reversed, Naomi would covet every single detail. “No?”

“No.” Ethan stops walking and Naomi follows suit. He turns, looking her in the eye. “I meant what I said to you yesterday. I don’t need any sort of closure from that chapter of my life. You, Naomi Marie Ramsey, are the only woman in my life that I care about.”

Even though she hasn’t made any sort of effort to change her name, she still giggles at being called Ramsey. Surging forward, she captures his lips in a kiss. It doesn’t take Ethan long to respond, his hand traveling to the small of her back, holding her close.

Too soon for her liking, Ethan breaks apart from her, resting his forehead on hers. “You know, if you want to actually explore anything other than the four walls of our suite, I suggest we put this on pause. You wanted to do some exploring, last I heard.”

“You’re right,” Naomi relents, pecking him on the lips once more for good measure. “Now let’s go shopping, Dr. Ramsey. I didn’t marry rich for nothing.”

~v~

Tags: @mercury84choices @mvalentine @sizzlingcashherohumanoid @choicesaddict5 @professorkingslay @nikki-2406 @maurine07 @aka-calliope @edgiestwinter @brycesgirl @akshara16 @bluebellot @whimsicallywayward15 @honeyandsunfl0wers @blossomanarchy @takemyopenheart @jamespotterthefirst @fanmantrashcan @whatchique @ao719 @x-kyne-x @colourmeshy @paulfwesley @the-pale-goddess @writinghereandthere @ramseyandrys @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramseyx @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @thatysn @bellcat2010 @blainehellyes @cecilecontrera @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @caseyvalentineramsey @desmaranj @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartsx @ruinedbypixels @nooruleman @rookie-ramsey

[hoplessdreamer9796]

BTS 8th Member - All Grown Up; Part 2

The BTS members realise their Y/N is all grown up. Set in 2016 Y/N age is 20 internationally and 22 Korean age. She isn’t a billionaire yet but is still very wealthy.

Read “BTS 8th Member - All Grown Up; Part 1” first.

Haeje, meaning release, is the name of a club (made up), in this au the club makes everyone sign non-disclosure agreements before entering and also takes your phone away. Which is why it’s going to be the regular club for Y/N in this au.

A-Lounge is also a made up club but won’t be mentioned as a regular.

Y/N - Your Name N/N - Nick Name

(English conversation is written in bold)

An hour(ish) later…

The 7 of them all walked into Haeje, having just signed the non-disclosure agreements and handing their phones in. Jimin raised his arms and sighed in deeply, “Aaahh home sweet home.” Jin rolled his eyes at him. They soon made their way to the booth and settled down, ordering drinks and joking around. Yoongi ordering an expensive drink he didn’t even like just to spite Jimin for making him go outside. Jimin just laughed at him and Yoongi glared.

A while later Jimin and Taehyung were on the dance floor with random girls. While the other five were sat around the table drinking and talking. Taehyung came back to the table and sat down against Jin sadly. Yoongi looked at him, “What happened to that girl who’s tongue you were trying to swallow?” Taehyung ignored the dig, sighed in disappointment and shook his head. “She asked if I’d have a threesome with her and her boyfriend.” Taehyung said face scrunched up in disgust. Everyone laughed at him. “At least Jimin lucked out.” Hoseok said. Taehyung pouted and said, “That bitch.” Everyone laughed at him.

Jimin was on the dance floor having the time of his life. This girl was hot, and he was 100% getting laid tonight. Nothing could go wrong… Which is what Jimin thought. But of course, the universe hates him.

As he was dancing with the girl, whose name was Taera, his eyes scanned around the club. Some girl making out with one guy and then making out with another guy on her other side. Good for her. Some guy awkwardly standing on the dance floor, looking like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole, while a girl was practically dancing on top of him. Bad for him. A girl and a guy both taking a shot and then competing over who could chug a beer faster. Definitely the girl the guy already looked drunk off his face and was spilling his beer.

Taera pulled Jimin closer and he looked back down at her. But alarm bells went off in his head and his eyes widened. He whipped his head back over to the boy and girl. It was Y/N who was now laughing at Hangyeol who was pouting at his defeat. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He saw Y/N and all of her friends at a booth drinking. He also saw who he assumed was Kyungseok being very touchy with Y/N. Fuck, this wasn’t good. Didn’t she say that they were going to some other club. What is Jimin supposed to do? Fuck you Y/N. Jimin thought to himself, he was going to have to sacrifice a sure thing to save you. He apologised to the girl, “Sorry this probably would have been fun, like really, really fun, but this is an emergency.” He kissed her cheek and then darted back to their table. Leaving a confused Taera in his wake.

“Hey guys this is fun right? Great! Well, that’s enough fun. Let’s go.” He said frantically trying to rush his members up. They all looked at him like he’d gone insane. Namjoon tugged him down by his arm, “We’re not going anywhere. We just got here.” He said to Jimin. Taehyung looked at him smugly, “Why? Did you strike out with that girl?” Taehyung asked him. Jimin scowled at him. “No. For your information I told her I wasn’t interested because I wanted to go home.” Jimin told him matter of factly, trying to hide his nerves.

All of a sudden, they heard a commotion on the other side of the club and looked over. Someone had dropped a glass on the floor and the table was cheering at him. “Hey, aren’t they Y/N’s friends?” Jin asked. Jimin laughed nervously. “Whaaat? Oh, they are what a coincidence.” Jimin said tapping his feet. Namjoon got that feeling in his gut again. He squinted his eyes at Jimin. Jimin was flailing his arms around and rambling, obviously trying to distract them. But from what? Namjoon’s eyes scanned around the club. There was nothing special until he saw it.

Y/N.

His Y/N was dancing with some random guy at a nightclub after saying that she’d be at her parents.

His N/N-ie lied to him.

He was feeling too many emotions to even comprehend right now. “Y/N?” Namjoon asked out loud but it was more disbelieving than curiosity, because that was definitely her. Jin looked at him. “What?” Jin asked him confused. Namjoon wordlessly pointed over in Y/N’s direction, she was laughing at something the guy said.

Jin gasped loudly gaining the rest of his members attention. “What is it hyung?” Hoseok asked Jin concerned. “N/N-ie is over there dancing with some random man whore.” Jin was seething. He knew his princess had been to clubs before. But that was always with Jimin or all of them. She never even showed interest in any guys, always just drinking and hanging out with them. Why would she lie about going to a club? It’s not like they ever stopped her from hanging out with her friends. But as she leaned up to kiss the guy she was dancing with he soon got his answer. The thought of Y/N with a boy made him furious. No wonder she didn’t tell them.

Jin cautiously looks over at the rest of the guys. Namjoon is just sat there disbelievingly. Taehyung moth won’t stop opening and closing as he takes in the scene. Hoseok looks shocked, his eyes wide. Jungkook’s brows furrowed in anger. Yoongi just looked at Y/N and the guy expressionless. “Who the fuck is that?” Yoongi spoke in an angry tone, glaring at the guy whose hands are dangerously low on Y/N’s waist. Jimin sighed in defeat. “What the hell? She said she was visiting her parents?” Hoseok asked angrily. Namjoon snapped out of his shocked state and glared over at Jimin. “Did you know about this?” Jimin looks at him shocked and chokes on air. Spluttering he replies, “What? No! Of course not!” Seeing the unimpressed look his members give him he backtracks, “Okay yeah I knew.” All of his members glare at him and he chuckles nervously. “Just remember N/N-ie is the one with a random guy.”

They all simultaneously look over to Y/N’s direction. “What the hell is hedoing?” Taehyung questioned in disgust, watching this dickhead grinding on dongsaeng. They watched as Y/N tugged the guy down buy his collar to kiss him. Jin practically squawked in disbelief flailing his arms about, “What the hell is she doing?” He asked in horror. Yoongi felt his muscles tense and his fists clench as he saw the stranger’s hands wandering down Y/N’s body. “He’s dead.” He said angrily standing up in order to go punch the guy and then scream at Y/N. “What? No, you psycho, sit down!” Jimin said pushing Yoongi down into his seat. “Why did you think she didn’t tell you guys in the first place? Huh? Because she knew you’d react like this.” Jimin said pacing in front of them waving his arms around. “She so much as looks at a guy and you practically have a stroke. Let the girl breathe. She’s 22 years old (Korean age). If you flip out at her now you’ll only push her away. She didn’t do anything wrong.” Jimin exhaled deeply after his rant. As if he had finally been able to breathe.

To him it felt as if he had gotten rid of a heavy weight. He saw the guilt you felt at lying to the guys, but he also knew what it was like to need an escape. You were smart, it’s not like you would do anything too stupid. He hated that you felt suffocated and had to pretend about any aspect of your life in your own home when they already had to do that so much for work.

A few minutes ago

Y/N was having a great time. All of her friends had arrived at Haeje a while ago, unknowingly just minutes after the rest of her members. They drank and joked momentarily forgetting about life outside the club walls. Kyungseok was practically clinging to her, the non-disclosure agreement letting him do so freely. A guy came over to Soomi and asked her to dance to which her friends cheered at. Hangyeol was waved but still challenged Y/N to a drinking contest. To which she obviously won. Hangyeol’s catch of the night consoled him while he sulked. Kyungseok leaned closer to Y/N, “Want to dance?” He asked her, his voice purposefully deeper in suggestion. She smirked at him and nodded downing her bourbon which had been refilled countless times.

Once they were on the dance floor Y/N saw that Kyungmin, who was terrible at drinking and was already drunk after a few drinks, dropped a glass to which her friends all laughed and cheered. She chuckled lowly at her friends before Kyungseok pulled Y/N close wanting her attention back on him and not her friends. She felt a flash of annoyance at his neediness before pushing it away and smiling at him falsely.

She closed her eyes; The base of the music felt as if it was beating in sync with her heartbeat. The dim lighting made her feel invisible and the touch of another person, his hands on her waist and lips on her neck made her feel pleasure. The combination made her feel alive. She wasn’t an idol or a CEO, she was nobody and it felt amazing.

Kyungseok moved his lips to her ear, “I thought we’d never get time alone.” He said to her biting her ear. She laughed amused at his eagerness pulling him closer. Unknown to her that all of her members were watching her. She tugged him down by the collar of his shirt before connecting their lips. They kissed hurriedly, tongues battled for dominance as she ran her fingers through his hair, tugging at the strands and he groaned into her lips. He pulled her closer. As his hands started drifting down she pulled away from him, her teeth tugging at his lower lip as she did. She smirked as she felt him shiver at the action. She left kisses down his jawline and neck up to his ear, feeling him grip her waist tighter. “Do you wanna get out of here?” Y/N whispered to him. He grinned down at her, “Hell yeah.”

They went back to the booth and grabbed their things, Y/N handed Daeho her one of her cards to pay for everything when her friends left. He shook his head, “It’s okay I can pay.” She just looked at him pointedly before looking at the table littered with countless liquors. He grimaced as he looked around the table that had many expensive bottles not to mention the table itself. “I might have to sell my house, but I can pay.” He felt guilty that Y/N always paid for everything. She just smiled and kissed his cheek, “You paid for dinner, this is on me.” She said, he sighed in defeat before taking the card. Pouting he said, “Thank you.” She just laughed, said goodbye hugging him and he kissed her cheek.

Kyungseok grabbed her hand the second she stepped away from Daeho and started to lead her away from the table towards the exit. “Get it N/N-ie!” Hanbin yelled looking away from the girl he was talking to. All of her friends cheered causing Y/N to laugh at them before leaving but not before she put her mask on. They got a cab back to the hotel.

Back at BTS’s booth they were still watching them. As Y/N pulled back from the mystery guy her teeth tugged at his lip, Jungkook groaned in horror, “Eww, that’s disgusting.” He said looking away from the scene. Y/N whispered something to him, and they went back to the table. Unknowingly with seven pairs of eyes planted firmly on them. They watched her interaction with Daeho when all of a sudden they were leaving. Namjoon jumped up from his seat, “She’s leaving. Where does she think she’s going? Is she leaving with him?” The members all gathered their things but Jimin stepped in front of them trying to block their path and reason with them. Yoongi glared at Jimin when he couldn’t see Y/N anymore. Jimin nervously tugged at his collar before he stepped aside.

They rushed past Jimin quickly to get their phones with him trailing behind them, “You guys are being ridiculous, what are you going to do? Hunt her down and ground her?” Jimin asked sarcastically as they all waited at the entrance desk for their phones. Jin nodded enthusiastically, “Oh yeah. Until she’s 50.” Jimin just looked done with life. Namjoon called the private car that they arranged picked up the seven. Taehyung sighed frustrated as there was no Y/N in sight.

The atmosphere in the car was tense as they were driven towards their dorm. They sat in silence, everyone processing what had happened. After they got there they all sat in the living room. Jimin eyes darted between his friends nervously. They continued to sit in silence. Until Hoseok broke the silence, “Well, what do we do?” “Call her.” Yoongi said immediately, his voice tense. Jimin rolled his eyes and folded his arms in resignation at how dramatic his friends were being. Namjoon got his phone out before calling Y/N and putting in on speaker phone.

Ring, ring, ring.

“Hello?” Y/N answered in English. Namjoon didn’t answer. He didn’t know what to say. “Oppa are you okay? What’s wrong?”Namjoon looked at his members, “Nothing’s wrong princess. Are you still at your parents’?” He asked, in Korean, hoping that she would fess up. “Yeah oppa. We skyped Adriel and Adonis. How about you guys?” Namjoon couldn’t believe how easy it was for Y/N to lie to him. He used to always be able to tell when she lied, or he at least thought he did. Since when was she able to lie so well? Namjoon felt uneasiness swirl in his stomach.

“Joonie oppa you there? Are you sure you’re okay? Do you need me to come home?” Y/N asked concern lacing her voice. Namjoon let out a breath. “Would you come home if I asked you to right now?” Namjoon asked her. “Of course I would. Oppa what’s wrong? You’re scaring me.” She questioned in Korean. A warm feeling engulfed him. She would come home to them. He was tempted to do it. But N/N-ie never got a real childhood and would never get to be a normal 20 year old. She was a smart kid he knew that. As much as he wanted to get her away from that random guy, he also wanted her to live her life. “You’re okay right?” Namjoon asked in English. Seokjin’s phone vibrated and he pulled it out, “Oppa check on Namjoon oppa I’m worried about him. Is everything okay? Should I come home?” Jin’s heart softened, even if she didn’t say it often, she loved them a lot. And Jin loved her too, which is why he wanted to get her away from that no doubt STD ridden guy. He showed the text to Namjoon who’s lips tugged up at the text. “Yeah oppa I’m fine.”She said. “Okay Y/N have fun. Bye.” He said hurriedly before one of his members could stop him. “Bye.” Y/N said sounding confused. Namjoon quickly hung up.

He could feel his members, bar Jimin, glaring at him. He ducked his head down to avoid their eyes. Jin quickly texted Y/N saying that Namjoon was fine and that they had a few drinks, so he was emotional. He was tempted to tell her that they knew what she was doing, and she had to come home but for some reason he just couldn’t. She texted him back saying to call her if they need anything.

Yoongi glared at Namjoon, “What the hell is wrong with you? You were supposed to get her to come home not tell her to have fun. The whole problem is that she’s having way too much fun.” Namjoon laughed nervously, “We can talk to her about it tomorrow.” He said dismissively. Yoongi scoffed. “This is ridiculous.” He said pulling his phone out and calling someone. “What are you doing?” Jimin asked in panic. “Calling her mother and simply telling her that Y/N left her laptop here. Since she’s apparently at her parents.” Yoongi said putting his phone on speakerphone.

“Hello? Yoongiah?” Almira asked curiously wondering why her daughter’s member called her. “Hello Eomonim, sorry for calling so late it’s just that Y/N left her laptop here and I was wondering if she’d need it since she has meetings tomorrow? I tried calling her, but she didn’t pick up.” Yoongi said hearing her pause. “Her phone is probably out of charge. Don’t worry about it Yoongiah, I’m pretty sure anything she needs Sooah will have.” Yoongi was confused. “I’m surprised Y/N didn’t come back for it since she’s staying at yours and has meetings tomorrow.” Yoongi said, eyes squinted at the phone. “Yes, she doesn’t go anywhere without that thing. I’m glad she left it. Her and her brothers are catching up and since it’s been a while I’m happy.” What the hell was going on? All of the members looked at each other in confusion. “Yoongiah I’ll tell Y/N you called okay?” She said to him kindly. He nodded in shock before realising she couldn’t see him. “Yes, Eomonim thank you. Have a good night.” He said to her. She said bye and hung up.

“What’s going on?” Jin asked confused as fuck at Y/N’s mother’s response. “Did noona actually make her mom lie to us?” Jungkook asked in disbelief. “I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.” Hoseok says resigned, before he looks over at Jimin who looks back at him weirdly, noticing his stare. “What?” Jimin asks. “Unless you know where she is.” Jimin stared at him in disbelief. “You know what? No. No, I don’t know where she is.” He lied. “And If I did know I wouldn’t tell you.” Jimin said glaring at them his lips in a thin line. Hoseok looked at him in disbelief. “Are you serious? She’s out there with some guy doing…” He trailed off his face twisted into a grimace. “Sex! She’s having sex!” Jimin snapped. “What’s the big deal?”

Yoongi glared at him, “She’s too young.” Jimin scoffed at him. “We all know Jungkook’s had his fair share. What makes Y/N so different? Oh, wait Y/N’s actually older than him so tell me why then!” Yoongi glared but didn’t say anything. Jimin raised his eyebrow at everyone else, all of whom looked away from him. Jimin stomped away from the living room to his room. Everyone else eventually dispersed.

Jimin slammed the door to his room and leaned back in his bed. Groaning in frustration at his member’s attitudes towards the situation. He hated this. He hated the lies but after observing the reaction his members had he knew you had made the right choice. Even he started to feel like you did something wrong with the way the guys were acting. But he knew no matter what he was on your side with this. Because he understood. He knew what is was like to need a distraction and while originally upset about her attitude towards relationships and more importantly her hiding it from them, he grew to accept it after she explained it to him. Explained how she felt like she needed an escape from their crazy lives, how this was the only way she felt like a person at times. And fuck did he understand that.

A while ago

The taxi dropped Kyungseok off at the hotel while Y/N went to the nearest convenience store to buy a phone charger as she forgot hers, she also didn’t want to be seen walking into the hotel with Kyungseok, just in case.

After buying a charger she went into the hotel. Meeting the concierge at the desk she lowers her mask before smiling at him. “Hello Manshik-shi.” The man in his 30’s smiles back at her friendlily. “Good evening Miss Kim.” She frowned at him playfully, “I thought we agreed you wouldn’t be so formal with me.” He laughed lightly before nodding, “Okay Y/N-shi. Here is your room card, your friend has already collected his.” Y/N smiled at him in thanks. He gave her the room key and she tipped him ₩5,000,000. He smiled at her thankfully but in all honesty it was well deserved. During all of her drunken flings at this hotel no media outlet ever found out about it. She smiled at him friendlily before wishing him a good night and raised her mask heading towards the lift.

Before she could press the button her phone rang. She furrowed her brows and wondered why Namjoon would call her. A few minutes later the call ended, and she had texted Jin before getting in the lift. She pressed the button for her floor before the lift doors closed. She then leaned her head back on the mirrors and closed her eyes. She let out a sigh. Of course, she felt guilty for lying to the guys, but she knew that they would go nuts. In their eyes she was still that wide eyed teenager who had to look after her family and had no one looking after her. She was still their baby to the members older than her.

Not to mention how protective Jungkook was of her, ‘his noona’ as he called her. Who he adored. He looked up to her so much and she didn’t deserve it. In his eyes she could do no wrong and no guy was worth her time. Jungkook was practically a guard dog when it came to men, jealous when anyone took his noona’s attention away from him. It was adorable and she loved him, but it made her feel as if she had to put up a front with him. Pretend to be a better person than she was.

But when he looked at her with doe brown eyes that sparkled in admiration resembling the way her younger brothers look at her, she realised that there is nothing she wouldn’t do for him and their members. So, she would continue to put up this front, pretend to be that girl from 4 years ago if it made them happy.

She’s a twenty year old girl with so many responsibilities that she feels like she will crumble under the pressure at times. But the sex and alcohol are distractions, during that time in a hotel room it’s only her and the other person, whoever that may be. She knew that booze and sex weren’t exactly the healthiest coping mechanisms, but it worked for her.

And truth be told she didn’t have anywhere near enough time for a relationship. In all honesty she didn’t want one. In her mind she was the last person who should ever be in a relationship. She’s terrible with affection and practically emotionally retarded. She can hug someone casually but in an emotional situation you’d probably find more comfort in hugging a rock. She’s fucked up and the thought of a committed relationship makes her feel uneasy.

So, she’d continue the meaningless flings. Continue her (not really friends) friends with benefits situation for as long as she could and when Kyungseok decided that he either wants more from her or to break up she would move on to the next guy and repeat. It was the easiest thing for her to do. The alcohol coursing through her veins prevented her from thinking any more about how screwed up she is and stopped her muscles from tensing too much, it created a pleasant buzz that resounded throughout her body.

Opening the room door, she sees Kyungseok on the bed on his phone, he looks up at her and smiles turning his phone off. She walk over to him slowly and sits next to him. She turns her head and stares into his eyes, putting a hand on his cheek, he sighs and leans into her hand for a moment before leaning down to kiss her. She soon forgets about life outside the four walls of the hotel room. (You can guess what happens here)

Around 5am

Y/N wakes up to the vibration of her phone under her pillow, she had set an alarm on the lowest vibration setting. Squinting in confusion as to why she set an alarm at this unholy hour she was about to go back to sleep until she felt the weight around her waist. Snapping her eyes open she sees Kyungseok next to her and then remembers where she is along with the events of last night.

She carefully removes his arm in order to not wake him and walks over to her duffel bag, that Sungmin oppa left, and pulls out her clothes, quickly changing before collecting her clothes and heels from last night that were scattered around the floor and stuffing them in the bag. After wearing the pair of trainers she packed and the coat from last night, she puts on her mask and cap before searching the bag pocket for the keys to Romeo.

After making sure she had everything she looked back at Kyungseok to make sure she hadn’t woken him. She was about to leave the room but hesitated for a moment. She tilts her head to the side before sighing and walked over to the nightstand, where there was a complementary notepad and pen with the hotel’s logo on them. She scribbled something down before tearing the note from the pad and placing it on her pillow and then silently left the room.

Unknown to her Kyungseok was awoken by the vibrations from her phone just like he was every time. And just like every time he silently watched her walk away from him so easily when it was so hard for him. But then he saw stop walking and as she was about to turn around he quickly closed his eyes. He heard her footstep come towards him and he hated the flutter of hope that felt. He felt confused when her heard her pick up something from the nightstand and soon after heard a tearing sound, followed by disappointment when he heard her footsteps walking away and the quiet beeping of the hotel room door.

Opening his eyes fully he saw a piece of paper on her pillow and reached out for it. ‘Last night was fun love. I have work soon but get whatever you want for breakfast, it’s on me.’ He knew she was lying, that she doesn’t have any plans early in the day or she would have left earlier like she normally does when she has something scheduled for the mornings. Despite knowing this he can’t help his racing heartbeat at the thought that maybe one day he could mean something more to her. Shifting in the bed he lays his head down on the pillow she used, engulfed in her scent he falls back to sleep the paper still clutched in his hand.

Y/N sighs after exiting the hotel room, feeling guilty for leaving without a word, but it was easier this way. The thought of waking up with someone was like making a promise that she would be there the next time as well. That she was there for more than the sex when in truth she wasn’t. And the last thing she wanted was to play with someone’s feelings, so she let Kyungseok know at every possible opportunity that this meant nothing to her, that it was just sex.

Walking out she sees Manshik still at the concierge’s desk. When he sees her he smiles and she returns the gesture with a wave. Leaving the hotel, that convinienty and thankfully didn’t have doormen at night, she walked into the car park towards the usual place in which Sungmin usually parks her car. After finding Romeo she puts her bag in the back seat before driving to the dorm to shower and sleep.

Unaware of the shit storm that was going to happen after she woke up.

[robinofinashiro]

prompt au: “I’m so madly and deeply in love with you, please talk with me so we can discuss this.”

request status: OPEN

paring: porco galliard x fem! reader

you and Pieck were walking down the street, bags in hand as the two of you were WIPED out. she had begged you to come shopping with her because of a business trip she had to attend and didn’t want to do all the boring shopping on her own. 

“so, how are you and Porco?” she asked as the two of you sat down for lunch. your eyes felt like if that rolled any harder, they might’ve gotten stuck in the back of your head, “ah, so not great?”

“not at all,” you murmured, “he’s been going out a lot recently and I finally called him out on it the other day and he did not take well to it. I don’t know Pieck, I feel like we might not be together much longer,” you whispered. 

she could see your eyes watering and grabbed your hand, “listen, I know Porco better than anyone else. he loves you, a lot, please don’t get to thinking crazy things because that’s the last thing I need you to do,” she responded, gripping your hand slowly. 

you looked to the window, trying to contain your tears as you saw your phone ping from the corner of the table. you didn’t bother to look at it as you saw the waitress coming to you. you quickly ordered your dinner as Pieck tried to steer the conversation away from Porco. 

“hey, you wouldn’t mind if Reiner and Colt came by, would you?” she asked, “Colt has been helping me prepping me for the trip next week and he needs to drop a few sheets off,” you nodded telling her you didn’t mind as you dug back into your food. 

you tugged on Porco’s green jacket for warmth as the drink you sipping on was making you more and more cold. you saw Colt and Reiner walk in a few minutes later as Colt held files that filled his entire forearm. waving at them, they walked a bit faster to the table. 

“Braun, Grice, how are you?” Pieck said as she took the files from his hand, “hey, I haven’t seen you in a while,” Reiner exclaimed, sitting next to you. you smiled, “yeah, I haven’t seen you or Colt in what feels like months,” you confessed. 

you knew that Reiner and Porco didn’t exactly get along well with each other. you didn’t have a problem with Reiner, not at all, but because you were with Porco, you kept your interactions with the blond to a minimum so he Porco didn’t blow a fuse. 

“how are you and Porco?” he asked as Pieck internally sighed, “we’re great. he’s working which is why he didn’t join us today,” you lied making Pieck giving you a look, “but I think he’s been calling me so I’ll be back in a minute,” you told them as they nodded. 

grabbing your phone, you saw a several missed calls from Porco and a few calls from Bertholdt, Falco, and Marcel. you called Marcel back, not really in the mood to speak to Porco at the moment. 

“hey Marcel, what’s up?” you asked with nervousness evident in your voice, “where are you by?” he asked instantly. 

your heart dropped, “what happened with Porco now?” you asked tiredly, “he’s drunk at Bertholdt’s house and he won’t listen to him or anyone else for that matter. where are you?” he asked again. 

“I’m sorry Marcel but I’m not even in town. I’m with Pieck a few towns over. she wanted me to come with her shopping and since Porco’s drunk at Bertl’s house, you must know why we aren’t speaking. I won’t be back until tomorrow.” 

Marcel sighed knowing you were probably too upset with his brother to see him. 

“It’s okay, I understand. we’ll figure something out, have fun and tell Pieck that we wish her good luck on her trip.”

you hung up the phone a few minutes after as you growled into Porco’s jacket. you knew his first form of coping to the fights the two of you got into was drinking and he wasn’t a few beers kind of person. he was a the person who drank a twelve pack and didn’t know what the meaning of portion control was.

“is everything okay?” Pieck asked. you sighed, “Porco is drunk at Bertholdt’s house and Marcel wants me to go and get him,” you groaned.

Pieck instantly felt anger rush through her knowing Porco was really looking to get punched in the face by her. “I told Marcel to take care of him until I get back, I really don’t want to see him or deal with his shit,” you told Pieck as she laughed. 

“as you should. listen, we’re practically done with everything and they’re going to be in town for the next few hours. we can go to the bar to clear your head if you’d like?” 

you thought for a moment, “sure, I don’t mind. you guys down?” you asked the boys as they nodded yes, “we’ll see you in about a hour? pick us up?” she asked Reiner as he agreed. 

-

after the two of you got ready and waited for Reiner and Colt to get to the hotel you were staying at, you had received messages from Porco. they ranged from ‘I miss you’ to ‘I need to see you before I go insane’. 

“hey, they’re here,” Pieck said as she nudged your shoulder. you grabbed your jacket not bothering to reply to the messages, “don’t worry about it. Porco is going to be fine. he’s with Marcel and you can talk to him when you get back,” she emphasized. 

you got into the passenger seat as Reiner was driver and Colt was sitting in the back with Pieck. Reiner had his music blaring loud as ever as your mind slowly forgot about your situation as you talked with everyone. 

the bar Pieck had chosen wasn’t too busy when all of you got there. after getting you ID’s checked, you made a bee line to the bar making them laugh. 

“tequila, already?” Colt jokingly asked. you rolled your eyes as you ordered everyone their first round of shots, “a good luck to Pieck!” you cheered as everyone clinked glasses together. 

the one round of tequila turned into three as you felt the buzz hitting your system. Colt could see the tipsy in your eyes as you continued to chug back tequila shots, “( your name )?” he asked, “you should really take it easy before you wake up tomorrow morning regretting everything you drank tonight,” he cautioned. 

you gave him a glare making him instantly put his hands up in defeat, “Reiner, come dance with me!” you said haphazardly. he gave you a look, not really knowing what to say. Reiner knew that if Porco even got wind that you were with him, nevertheless dancing with him, he’d be at the receiving end of an ass kicking.

“I don’t think that’d be a great idea,” Reiner warned. you gave him the puppy eyes making him eyes, “I guess one song wouldn’t hurt,” he tried to rationalize. 

the two of you went out to dance to ‘Wait Another Day’ by Mike Williams. Reiner made sure to keep himself at a respectful distance as he twirled you under his arm. 

he could see something in your eyes that didn’t quite look like you were all there. in his gut, he knew that you were missing Porco. it didn’t take an idiot to see how madly in love the two of you were with each other. Porco was a handful but you were one of the only few selective people who could deal with his shit for so long. the others being Pieck and Marcel. 

discreetly so you couldn’t see what he was doing, he texted Marcel saying to bring Porco to the bar where you were at. the town was only an hour drive and from the looks of it, you didn’t look like you were in any mood to go home just yet. 

after Marcel agreed, Reiner made sure to keep your drinks to a minimum. he knew you were far too inebriated to tell what drinks were and weren’t alcohol so he poured water into a shot glass and called it cheap vodka. 

Reiner had informed Colt and Pieck about his little plan as they both nodded in relief. they both knew the animosity between the two of them but they were glad that Reiner put the petty drama to the side for you.  

it took a while for Marcel and Porco to get there but Porco was now the sober one between the two of you as you were the one spewing random shit out of your mouth. mostly confessions of missing your blond haired boyfriend. 

“hey, where is she?” Marcel asked Reiner as he pointed over to you dancing with Pieck. Porco couldn’t help but laugh at your antics and Pieck’s face of complete tiredness, “hey, I’ll take it from here,” Porco whispered in her ear. 

she gave him a smile before punching him in the arm, threatening him that if he ever got her this upset ever again, she’d have him by the throat in a matter of seconds. 

“Porco?” you murmured, not believing he was here, “hey sweetheart, you’re really drunk right now,” he said with a small smile playing on his face. 

your face scrunched in fake anger, “I forgot I was mad at you,” you replied making him laugh even harder, “I know you are but you really shouldn’t be this drunk. you know how you get when you suffer from a hangover,” you didn’t reply as he took your hand and walked to a corner, “but I’m so madly and deeply in love with you, please talk with me so we can discuss this,” he asked. 

you complied and sat at a table or well tried as your drunken self barely made it onto the table, “I know I’ve been going out a lot more but I can’t really say why. just know it’s for us and although you won’t probably remember this conversation in the morning, I want you to know that I love you way too much to do anything stupid to sabotage our relationship,” he confessed. 

you instantly fell onto him, plastering a large kiss on his lips, making him laugh. the two of you remained kissing until he pulled away, “now how about we get you back home and I’ll tell Pieck to bring you your bag tomorrow,” Porco offered. 

Porco went to tell Pieck that he was going to drive you back to your shared apartment as you clung onto his shoulder, barely awake. the apartment was only going to be used for a few more weeks considering he was finally closing out the deal for your first house and he wanted to surprise you with it. 

Porco knew you had been looking at a specific house for months now and after he managed to lower the price on it and get the deal closed, it was only a matter of days before he surprised you with the key to it and he couldn’t wait to finally enter the next chapter of life with you. 

[phykios]

honesty and promise me part 6 [co-written with @darkmagyk] [read on ao3]

Ah, the age old question: what to get for the guy who has everything and also when you’re trying make up for the fact that you actually missed his birthday entirely while spending as little money as possible?

“Where the hell are you taking me?” Percy asks as they wait their turn to disembark. “I haven’t been to Staten Island in ages.”

Annabeth has never been at all. She knows there’s a handful of Greek revival buildings in the Historic District, but she’s never had a car to get there, or the stomach to get on the ferry. Percy had practically climbed onto the bow, his own personal reenactment of Titanic, arms thrown out to the wind, while Annabeth attempted to keep her breakfast down.

Having spectacularly flamed out last week in Philadelphia, she can’t let Percy’s birthday go without some sort of commemoration. The Staten Island Ferry is just part one. “All in due time,” she says, checking her phone for directions. They still have a bus they need to board, and Annabeth is getting sweaty in her leather jacket. Thank God Percy volunteered to carry the backpack with all their gear; otherwise, when this jacket comes off, it’s going to smell worse than his tights at the end of a long day.

Like a magnet, his gaze is glued to the strips of the bay he can spot through the bus windows, his head resting on his chin, a soft, serene smile lifting his lips. All the tightness, all the stress he’s held in his shoulders the last few times she’s seen him, it melts away at the sharp, salty tang of rust and sea air which suffuses every corner. She doesn’t even mind that he isn’t looking at her. 

Hand in hand, finally, they get off the bus, and walk to the overlook. Slinging the backpack off his shoulder, he sets it down at his feet, eyes fixed on the strip of shoreline which can be seen, even all the way over here. “What is that?” he breathes, shielding his eyes against the glint of the sun on the water.

“That,” says Annabeth, “is the Staten Island ship graveyard.”

Still stewing in her guilt over how she missed his birthday--despite the fact that he didn’t even tell her--Annabeth decided to swallow her pride and ask for help. It took an inordinate number of coffee orders and one instance of her actually getting down on her knees and begging, pleading to their long friendship together and swearing that Annabeth would never use this information for evil, but she had finally wheedled the secret out of Thalia: Percy’s greatest love, after the ballet, was sailing. Ship construction, naval battles, maritime history, they were, according to Thalia, the only things which could entice Percy to actually set down the tights and “get some frickin’ sunshine for once in his life.” Annabeth hadn’t believed her, until Thalia had dug up an old photo which had never been posted to his socials--and Annabeth had certainly scoured them for long enough, she would have recognized it had she seen it before--of Percy, on a glittering, jewel-like sea, a rope wrapped around his fist as he leaned over the side of a sailboat, eyes squeezed shut, mouth wide in a graceless, unrestrained joy. 

“Back in the eighties, there used to be over four hundred ships down there,” Annabeth says, coming up beside him. “A lot of it’s been scrapped or sold, but there are still maybe a hundred or so boats, including the USS PC-1264, one of the--”

“One of the two predominantly African American crewed Navy ships from World War II,” he interrupts, eyes light. “No way!”

“Yes way,” Annabeth grins, unzipping her jacket. The midday sun beats down on them, the air sticky and heavy, and she needs this thing off, pronto. “And, there’s a ship that was supposedly the command post for the General Slocum disaster.” Not that she really knows what that is.

He whirls around. “The Abram S. Hewitt is there? Holy sh--”

His jaw drops. His eyes bug out. 

Part two of his present was the ship graveyard. Part three is the outfit.

Annabeth, one hand on her hip, slings her jacket over her shoulder with the other, the leather hot against her bare skin. She has chosen to forgo a shirt entirely, wearing nothing but her nicest pair of black jeans with the thick suspenders and a shiny, red bra. And yes, she had Thalia touch up her hair, five inches of curls lopped off on one side, undercut sharp and severe. 

“I thought we could have a picnic here,” she says, a smile curling her lips without her permission. “Then, if you want, we could do some light trespassing? See the ships up close?”

Percy swallows. He breathes in through his nose, shuddering. “Sure,” he whispers, hoarse. “Sounds good.”

Dropping to the ground like a rock, studiously not checking her out, Percy unpacks their picnic, laying out the blanket, something blue, old, but soft Annabeth had knitted in a fit of pre-finals’ anxiety in college. Annabeth had hinted the night before that he should make them some food, as no one could make a grilled cheese like Percy, and she sure as shit wasn’t going to buy them some prepackaged, tasteless garbage. 

Percy’s sandwiches, just like the man himself, are stacked: thick, sourdough slices (which she suspects he made himself), bacon, turkey, apple, tomato, lettuce, avocado, mayo for her but none for him. She’d always been under the impression that dancers needed to watch what they ate, endlessly in pursuit of some unattainable ideal of beauty. Nope. Percy eats everything and anything he can get his hands on, high carb and high protein and high everything else. It makes sense, she guesses, for someone who basically has to bench their own body weight daily. Every inch of him is tailored for power and velocity, to propel him out of the grasp of gravity--rabbit food just isn’t going to cut it here. 

Munching down, he maneuvers himself into a number of splits and stretches, unable to give up his routine for a single day. “When I was probably thirteen or fourteen,” he says, halfway through a tirade of reminiscence, “my dad took me and Triton and Kym to Cyprus, for some family bonding time.” He rolls his eyes. “You can probably imagine how well that went. Most of that trip was… well, Cyprus was definitely the best part. We went to Kyrenia Castle, which has this amazing museum that holds one of the oldest known ships in the world. Like, this thing was operational during the lifetime of Alexander the Great, and it sank about a mile away from the harbor.” He takes a heroic bite, chewing with his lips firmly shut.

“Cool.”

He swallows. “Very cool. I love really old ships, but you can imagine how few of those are still left, and not just because we haven’t found them.”

Annabeth feels her neck heating up, despite the shade they sit in. “Well, I hope these ones are old enough for you.”

“Oh, these are incredible--don’t get me wrong! I had no idea there was anything like this so close to home. Who needs Cyprus when you have Staten Island?” He grins, placing his sandwich down, throwing his arms in a stretch.

“I know it isn’t Tokyo or Moscow or anything…” she trails off, self-conscious even as she doesn’t actually ask the question that’s on her mind. 

Shamefully, she has found that she still thinks about what Will had said at his apartment over a month ago at this point: Percy Jackson, boy toy of the rich and famous. But if she actually asks, it will make her look like some totally jealous girlfriend or something, like she honestly cares about Percy’s past sexual conquests.

She doesn’t care. She doesn’t. 

He’s just led a really interesting life, and she wishes she could relate. That’s all. 

“It’s not,” he agrees, bending his back with an audible pop. “It’s better.” 

“Really? A little ship graveyard is better than the sites of Tokyo?”

“I didn’t see any sites in Tokyo,” he said. “Mostly just Mittie’s hotel room.”

“Mittie?”

Percy looks at his sandwich, suddenly very interested in the crust. 

“She’s someone important, then?” 

Silence. 

Annabeth laughs to break the tension. “Okay, I'll bite--who’s Mittie? Another model?” 

Taking a small bite of sandwich, he chews, methodical and deliberate. He swallows, clearing his throat. “Margherita Savoy.”

The name doesn’t ring a bell. “Who?”

“Princess Margherita Elisabetta of Sardinia.” 

Her mouth drops open a little. “A princess?”

Percy shrugs. “Technically. The throne of Sardinia doesn’t exist anymore, obviously, but she’s big into the money and the titles and stuff.”

A princess. A fucking princess. “But she lets you call her Mittie.”

He looks a little constipated. “She didn’t… until she took me to Tokyo.” 

“Oh,” she says. Because what else is there to say? She’s certainly no princess. 

“She was nice,” Percy says, softly. “You know, eventually. Once we got to know each other.”

Her phone is hot in her pocket, like it’s preemptively searching Google for pictures of Margherita Elisabetta of Sardinia, downloading them all so Annabeth can scribble all over her face like a bad high school movie. “A pretender?” She scoffs, exaggeratedly, her fists tight against the grass. “Talk to me when you get a real princess.” 

His ears go red. “Um…” 

No way. “No fucking way.”

“Look, Eugenie was just kinda pissed when Triton broke up with her, and so she just thought that we’d have some fun.” 

“Oh my god.” She says, looking at him in something like horror. And telling herself at least it wasn’t her distant cousin Madeleine. 

“It was only for like a week or two,” Percy protests. “We went to a club in Berlin she knew Triton liked to go to so he would see us and get annoyed.” 

“A princess dated you because she was pissed at your brother?”

“Only twice,” he says, casual, like any of this is normal and not absolutely insane. “Eleonore is one of Kym’s friends. And she’s technically, like, an archduchess, not a princess. But I don’t know. A couple of his other girlfriends wanted to get back at him, and I was in Europe and available, so we just…” He trails off. She can hear the ellipsis, hanging hot and heavy over them, each dot dropping like a stone. What is this, fucking Mamma Mia? 

“When was the last time this happened?” she asks, not really wanting to hear the answer.

He rubs a hand over his mouth, gaze unfocused as he thinks. “Um… not since the week after Frank left, I think. Mittie wanted to go to Bora Bora but she didn’t want to go alone, you know?” 

“No, I meant,” she pushes through as her stomach flutters, tight and uncomfortable, “girls using you to get back at your brother.” 

His face falls, just a bit. “Oh. Last year, I guess.”

“Who was she?” And where is she so Annabeth can punt her off a building?

“Calypso Atlas.” He sighs, wistful, with more reverence than he had given any of the princesses, and Annabeth’s stomach flops, different from the flutter. Painful this time. “She actually liked me.” 

“Everyone likes you,” she says, faintly. Maybe wearing the leather jacket is giving her heatstroke.

“You know, they really don’t. Not how it counts, anyway.” He picks at a blade of grass, rubbing it between his fingers. “Most of the girls who wanted to use me to get back at Triton only did it because they knew how much he liked to bitch about me--the ‘half-breed bastard.’” He rolls his eyes, huffs a laugh. “And even Kym’s friends didn’t actually like me. Like, yeah, they’d fly me all over with them, but they didn’t want to be seen with me. Mittie and I were on and off for years, and she gets photographed constantly. I’m not in any of them.”

Annabeth thinks she might actually be sick. 

But he doesn’t stop. “It wasn’t so bad when they went around saying that I was a dancer with the Paris Opera, because I was, and I was proud of it. But it wasn’t… I don’t know. It wasn’t like with Frank, whose family does have a ton of money, but who only ever dated me because he liked me.” He picks another blade of grass, tearing it between his fingers. “Calypso, though. She was different.” And he smiles, a little.

“How?”

That smile grows wider. “She just called me one day, out of the blue, and very publicly asked me to be her date to Milan Fashion Week after she and Triton broke up and he immediately turned around and got engaged. She was super up front about it, didn’t try to sleep with me or anything, even though I know she was friends with some people and probably heard about my various talents.” 

She knows exactly which talents he means. He winks at Annabeth, ironic and self-conscious, and she forces out a little laugh, as though the idea of him going down on someone else is charming. 

“But then we actually had a good time together, and a few weeks later, she called me up again, and again, and again, until eventually she introduced me to her father--which was a hell of an experience, let me tell you. The Atlas family puts the Olympianides family to shame as far as dysfunction goes. But it was nice, in its own way; if I’d ever asked Mittie to introduce me to her dad, she’d have laughed in my face.” 

“Sounds like you were pretty serious,” Annabeth manages.

“That was the problem.” He looks away, towards the sea. Always towards the sea. “She wanted to leave Paris, travel the world. And she wanted me to go with her.” 

“To leave the Paris Opera?”

“To leave ballet entirely. I just…” He holds the silence for a moment, lost in the fog of reminiscence, the mist of possible futures long since dissipated. Sighing, he shakes his head. “I couldn’t do it. So, in March, she went to Dubai, and I started making calls back to New York.”

“You broke up with her this year?”

“She broke up with me,” he clarifies, turning back to her. “It was all very romantic. I always left my comp at the box office for her. She didn’t come to my show, but she showed up at the stage door the day before she was set to leave, telling me that she had an extra ticket with my name on it. I turned her down.” And then he looks her in the eye as he says, “I don’t regret it at all.” 

She swallows, her face flushing, tongue numb as she searches desperately for something to say to that. “Atlas, you said her family was? It sounds familiar.” 

“Oh, you’re probably thinking of Zoe Atlas,” Percy says, easing off for the moment. “You probably know about her because she and Thalia were archenemies in boarding school. Or maybe girlfriends? I have yet to get a straight answer.” Annabeth’s eyes nearly bug out of her head. Thalia, in boarding school? What? “But I like Zoe. She’s an activist, and absolutely hates her father. Like I said, there’s a lot of dysfunction. And she came to my first show way back when, and she wasn’t even weird when I dated her sister when we ran into each other in Paris. So that was nice.” 

“She went to your first show?” What in God’s name is up with these one-percenter families? It’s like they all overlap in one big incestuous slurry. And as the daughter of the Chases and the Pallases, she tries not to think where she might fit into that. 

“Thalia brought her. Her first not-date. It was Thalia’s first ballet ever, too. It… it meant a lot.”

“What show was it?”

He smiles, wistful. “The Nutcracker. I was one of the kids at Clara’s party. Most scared I’ve ever been. When I got out backstage after intermission, Thalia was waiting for me with my mom. She punched my shoulder, called me ‘Kelp Head,’ and told me I did great. Then I hugged her,” he says, snickering. “She punched me again.”

Annabeth laughs, huffing through her nose. “Good to see some things never change.”

“That’s our Thalia for you--looking out for everyone, even when it kills her inside.” He glances at her pointedly.

It’s her turn to share. 

Annabeth’s mouth is dry, like sandpaper.

She grabs her backpack, pulling out a sketchbook and a pencil. Beside her, Percy sighs, deflating a little.

Annabeth flips open a new page, and starts drawing. 

Each sketch delivers a challenge: bringing order to the whole through design, composition, tension, balance, light and harmony. Sometimes, buildings spring to life on the page, fully formed. Sometimes the page stays blank, an empty pencil.

Pencil to paper. Letting whatever wants to come out, come out. “My mom invited me to lunch one day,” she says. Her eyes follow the line of her pencil, ninety degree angles and symmetrical shapes. “I had moved to New York like six months before. Single girl, in the big city, to follow her dreams.” She’d gone to boarding school in New York before that, but it wasn’t the same as picking out her apartment and taking the train to the Manhattan skyscraper her office was held in. Sometimes she’d walk down the street, feeling like she was smack dab in the middle of Sex and the City, which she and Piper use to watch in secret, huddled under the covers in the dorms at Miss Minerva’s. “Unfortunately, my mom didn’t love my dreams.”

“She didn’t approve of anarchist architecture?”

Annabeth’s laugh is hollow. “She thought I should have been charting some new path in business for a woman. But not in a feminist way. In, like, a capitalist way. But architecture was not really negotiable for me. And once that became clear, she had her own expectations about that, too.” 

Annabeth has always been a prideful know-it-all. If all her mother had wanted from her was ambition, they probably could have made it work. Annabeth wanted to reshape the skyline, she wanted her name on buildings that would last and impress. 

But even Annabeth couldn’t do that in six months. 

“She wanted the best schools, the best companies, the best projects.” She sighs. “I was lucky to find a job in New York that wasn’t just carrying coffee.” She had gotten a bigger offer from a more well-known firm where she had interned one summer, but it had been for an assistantship, heavy on the assistant. Her eventual Junior Architect label hadn’t been great, but it had been something, being a rising star at a smaller firm. It seemed like a good fit. “I did not make my mother proud. I… she lived in New York, and I lived with my dad all over.” 

Percy frowns. “Your mom didn’t have custody of you?”

“My mom didn’t want custody of me,” she laughs, bitter. God, it feels weird to tell someone else this. Piper and Leo and Luke knew, obviously, but they had witnessed it all firsthand. Telling someone else, out of the blue… Well, Percy had divulged his tragic backstory without complaint. It’s only fair that she does as well. “I mean, my dad didn’t either. But when it became clear my mom wasn’t an option, well, there we were. He stepped up as best he could. That wasn’t always a lot, but when compared to my mother, he seems like a perfectly involved parent.” 

“Are you trying to make my parental situation seem more reasonable?” 

“Is it working?”

“If you ever meet my dad, we can compare notes.” He shudders at the thought, playfully. “So, what happened with your mom?”

“She made her displeasure known.” Annabeth sighs again, shading a corner. “I mean, she’s always made her displeasure known. I wasn’t getting good enough grades, I wasn’t in the right activities, I wasn’t going to get into the right school, yadda yadda yadda. But for a long time… I don’t know, it at least seemed like she was worried about me.” She thinks of the Eta party, of the man in the brown suit, tutting about Athena Pallas’s druggie daughter, and scowls. “My mother has always had an all or nothing outlook. If I wasn’t the best, I might as well be nothing. But the thing was, this time I thought I was making real progress. And when she invited me to lunch after six months in the same city, I thought she would see that.” 

She had not. Because to Athena Pallas, having a daughter who was an architect instead of an executive Vice-President on her way to CEO, having a daughter at a small but growing architecture firm instead of the best one in the country, was like having a daughter who was drunk in a gutter somewhere. 

And Annabeth had realized as much that lunch. 

All her work was never going to earn her mother’s love.

And suddenly, she wasn’t sure what work had been her’s and what had been her mother’s ambitions. 

She’d started crying. In the cafe and right now, on Staten Island, with Percy. “I’m sorry,” she sniffs, wiping her nose on her arm. “Wow, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He reaches over and wraps an arm around her, gently, rubbing her shoulder, and she more or less crumples into his side. “It’s fine. Take your time.”

Her arm, still free, keeps moving. The drawing takes a shape that she can’t quite name yet. A tree, maybe, in a box. A window to another world, possibly. She spills tears on the paper.

“She disowned me.” Her thin line trembles, before righting itself. “I ran out of there. I stumbled into the first tattoo parlor that didn’t smell like piss, and got my owl done.” She brandishes her left arm, the grey shape blurry and faded against her elbow. She had had a stuffed owl as a little girl, her protector against the spiders in the closet. “I cut off my hair, got my eyebrow pierced, found a club, and just… had a rough couple of days. Got really really drunk that night.” Like, too drunk. Crying on the floor of a filthy bathroom drunk. “Thalia found me under the bathroom sink, took me back to her place, helped me kick the hangover the next day, and that was that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” Annabeth says. And most of the time, she isn’t. She wipes her eyes, smudged makeup getting smudger.

“Your mom sounds like she sucks.”

“She does.”

“What about your dad?”

She sniffs. “What about him?”

“You just haven’t really mentioned him. What’s he like?”

Shrugging, she wipes a tear from her cheek. “He’s a history professor.”

“And?”

“That’s about it.”

“I mean, do you like him?”

She shrugs again. “Sure.” There was a lot to like about Frederick Chase. “I haven’t really spoken to him in a while.”

Mouth in a sympathetic twist, he brushes the curls from her eyes, a gesture so sweet it makes her heart pound. “You should call him,” he says. “I’m sure he misses you.”

Her phone burns in her pocket, heavy with the weight of unread texts. “Maybe.”

“Do you want to change the subject?” he asks.

“Please,” she blurts out, digging the heels of her hands into her eye sockets. “God, please. Let’s go back to your cute backstory. Tell me more about your first ballet. I want to hear all about the time you were in the Nutcracker.”

Percy fishes out a napkin from somewhere, handing it to her. Grateful, she blows her nose into it, wet and disgusting. “I hate to tell you this,” he says, “But I have been in the Nutcracker, like, fifteen times.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he nods, “It's the big moneymaker. Have you ever seen it?”

“It's a holiday classic,” she scoffs, a little wetly. “Of course I’ve seen it.”

He snorts. “Like, for real, or the recorded one they play on Netflix with Macaulay Culkin?” 

“I've seen it live! My dad lived in San Francisco when I was in high school. They have a fancy ballet there.” She’d seen it as a little kid in NYC, she thought, too. Maybe when her parents were still married, or her mother was still willing to take her for Christmas. 

“Would you be willing to see it again?”

“Like, for real,” she parrots back at him, “or the recorded one they play on Netflix?”

“Ha ha. I mean for real.”

“I mean… maybe if they switched things up a bit.” 

“It's a classic!” He protests. “I mean, it isn’t like we do the Balanchine everywhere, every time. But… it's a classic.” 

“I’m sure the dancing is fine.” Annabeth says. She remembers going with Luke in Boston and thinking it was nice, but also hoping Luke would kiss her at the end of the night, so she hadn’t really paid attention. “But they get to design a land of magic and sweets and fairies, and every time the costumes and the sets are just, like, pink glitter and white gauze mixed with weird racial stereotypes. There’s no imagination.” 

“Well, okay then.” There’s something in his smile, in the turn of his head that she can’t quite identify. “What would you do?” he challenges.

She holds his gaze for a moment, looking into those eyes that almost reflect the color of the sea around them. Her eyes feel a little puffy still, but he doesn’t look away. Then, without breaking away, she flips open a new page in her sketchbook. 

“Space,” she says. “It needs space.”

“Outer?”

“Negative. Lots of space for dancers to move around.” Her pencil scratches over the paper, familiar blocky shapes springing to life. Doric fluted columns split the wings, because of course. “It’s Christmas, so we want color: no sterile, snowy landscape. We know it’s all frozen over--we don’t need to see it again. Obligatory Christmas tree here,” she sketches a crude triangle off to one side, approximately along the golden ratio, “and a big fireplace in the center, preferably a functional one.”

“You know there was this dancer in the nineteenth century that died because her costume caught fire, yeah?”

Annabeth tilts her head, capitulating. “Fair point. We’ll raise it up on a pedestal, keep it out of the way.” She draws a little platform beneath it. “But color is key.” Up above, she draws a pediment crowning the proscenium. She scribbles in the empty space, a placeholder. “Everyone knows the story, so you lay it out up here, episodes merging into each other from start to finish.”

Percy peers down at her page, his chin perilously close to resting on her shoulder. She can’t draw like that. “Kind of reminds me of the Parthenon.”

“You’ve been?”

He nods, his hair tickling the side of her face. “Couple of times. I thought you said you wanted color, though. The Parthenon’s all white, isn’t it?”

“Not originally,” she says. “Do they not explain that on the tours?” 

“Um…” Sheepish, he looks away. “I, uh, I’m not always great at listening.”

God. It’s so endearing. What the hell. She kisses him on the cheek, enjoying the way he flushes lightly. “Me either.” He is so fucking handsome. “But no, the original Parthenon, all those white statues, they were painted. Ergo, color.” 

He blinks, momentarily stunned. “Wouldn’t--uh, wouldn’t that distract from the dancers? People would just be staring at the ceiling.”

“Then… it’s only lit up before and after the show. During the show, you turn the lights down, bring the focus back down onto the stage.” She considered it. Something she’d worked on for a production once, a fashion show Piper had done at Pratt. “Or, you set it up so the colors are mostly lights. Lights that shine through during the snowflake dance and when Clara rides off with the prince. But then you also get the white for the frosted look. But, they’re still too pink, so I don’t think some color variety is bad.”

“So, not to kill your vibe,” Percy says, pulling back a bit, “but I gotta say, I don’t see how this is that different from the billion other Nutcrackers out there.”

She glares, lips pursed. He’s trying so hard not to laugh. Dick. “The set is only half the problem,” she says. “You'd need to redesign the costumes, too.”

“Tell you what. Why don’t you come see my show in December, and then you can tell me all about how you’d fix it.”

“Me and every tourist in New York at Christmas time?”

He nods, like he was expecting it. “Then come to my current one. September isn’t Christmas, so it’ll be a lot less crowded.”

“I don’t know,” she grimaces, sketching a star in the corner of the page. “I don’t really think I’d fit--'' Fit in with those people like the ones from the Eta awards, who thought not being her mother’s lackey was the same as being in rehab.

“Annabeth.” Percy takes her drawing hand, lifting it off the page entirely. The pencil is caught between them, an ineffectual barrier to the sweet, rubbing thumb on the mound of her palm. “I want you to come to my show. I’ll leave you a ticket. No one will care what you look like, I promise.” He stares at her, baby seal eyes in full effect.

Fuck.

“As long as you leave me a ticket,” she says, weakly. “I mean, I wouldn’t be able to afford a good seat.” The lie slips out, easy as anything. She can’t help it.

He smiles, soft and warm and way too inviting. “And in the meantime,” he says, softly, you can come with me tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“I’m going to my parents’ for dinner. It’ll be just my mom, Paul, and my sister. They’d love to meet you.”

“I can’t,” she replies, immediately, almost without thinking. “I’ve got--I’ve got work to do.”

She doesn’t. But boys don’t bring girls like Annabeth home anymore. She isn’t meant to settle down. She’s meant for grimy bars and ship yards. She'll leave it to the princesses to be brought home.

He deflates, just the slightest bit. If she hadn’t had so much up and personal time with his naked chest and the movement of his shoulders, she probably would have missed it. “Maybe next time, then?”

“Yeah,” she agrees, not entirely certain if she means to follow through. “Maybe next time.”

[suituuup]

pieces - chapter fourteen

Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca didn't expect to see her again dancing in a strip club, out of all places.

rating: E (drug use and emotional abuse in early chapters)

ao3 link

*

“A bit higher.” 

Beca pushed the small mountain-shaped shelf an inch higher, looking over her shoulder as she held it. “Like that?” 

Chloe nodded, smiling. “Perfect.” She walked over and handed Beca the drill, watching as she skillfully made a hole into the wall and inserted a dowel. “I didn’t know you were handy with tools.” 

Beca snickered. “Basic things only.” She twisted the screw in and hung the shelf, taking a few steps back to observe her work. “That looks cute.” 

Chloe glanced around the room, nodding as she absent-mindedly rubbed her belly. She had just reached thirty weeks, and Bean’s arrival was scarily close. The nursery was coming along nicely, the crib having just been delivered today, while the rest was pretty much done. 

The closet was full of onesies, tops, pants and a few dresses, swaddles, blankets, and loveys, and the dark oak changing table (matching the yet to be assembled crib) was stocked up with diapers, wipes, bodysuits, and a variety of creams and oils. 

Chloe had channeled her stress into reading as much as she could about newborns, what to do and not do, and while she had experience with babies from back when she was a teenager, she was relieved not to be doing this on her own.

“It does,” Chloe agreed, loving the subtle woodland theme she went for and all the love they poured into making this safe place for Bean. “It’s really cozy.” 

“Alright, now onto the big project,” Beca said, nodding towards the large package laying on the floor. “You’ll get to see how limited my knowledge of tools really is.” 

Chloe laughed and helped take the different parts of the cribs out of the box, then headed into the kitchen to get them some refreshments. 

The last six weeks had been really good. The Bellas welcoming her back with open arms had definitely helped with Chloe’s recovery, and her talk with Beca, that promise that she would wait for her to be ready filled Chloe with a renewed sense of self-worth and made her fall in love with Beca a little bit more. 

Chloe was now just over six months sober. The nagging for booze and snow sat somewhere at the back of the brain, and she doubted it would ever go away, but she was getting better at not listening to it. 

She stifled a laugh at the sight of Beca looking awfully perplexed by the instructions when she walked back into the room. “You good?” 

Beca chuckled. “Yeah. Just trying to make sense of this.” She glanced up to Chloe, accepting the glass of homemade lemonade with a smile and setting it beside her. 

“They sent us two baby monitors?” Chloe asked as she sat on the floor, noticing the two exact same boxes. They had ordered a bunch of stuff from the same website, and quite a few boxes had come with the crib while Chloe was at her NA meeting, and Beca had put everything in the nursery. “We only ordered one.” 

“No, um, I figured one more would be handy,” Beca said as she picked up one of the crib ends and two of the four legs, along with four bolts. “So I hear Bean when she cries at night, too.”

Chloe shook her head. “I can take care of nights. I don’t want your whole sleeping rhythm to be thrown off because of Bean, you’ve got work, too.” 

“I know, but I’m concerned the lack of sleep might mess up with your recovery if you handle it on your own. I’ve read some horror stories about some babies waking up every few hours and that for six months.” Her focus shifted from the crib assembling to Chloe. “I meant what I said when I told you you wouldn’t be on your own with this. But I don’t want to overstep either, so I want you to tell me if you need me to back up a little. I promise I won’t be upset.” 

Chloe’s heart swelled with more love. She didn’t know why she kept being surprised every time Beca showed her how dedicated to the both of them she was. Still, she felt a little guilty for disrupting Beca’s routine, but she knew Beca was right. 

“You’re not overstepping,” Chloe assured her, softly. “And I want you guys to bond, so I think you taking care of her without me might be a great way to do that.”

“Okay,” Beca murmured, smiling as she went back to her task at hand. “The label already knows I’m taking two months off once she’s born, so I’m around to help out. Maybe she’ll sleep through the night by the time I have to head back.” 

Chloe chuckled. “We can always dream.” She cleared her throat. “I was also thinking about Bean’s guardians, in case something happens to me, and I’d like for you to be one of them.” 

Beca paused mid-screwing in a bolt and met Chloe’s gaze. It was clear she was moved, and it made Chloe smile. “Of course. I’d be honored.” 

“Aubrey will be the other guardian, just so you know. So if I die, you’ll be seeing a lot more of her.” 

Beca’s nose wrinkled. “Is it too late to backtrack?” She asked with a soft laugh. Chloe knew she was just joking, as she and Aubrey got on really well, now. “I think Aubrey is a great pick. At least I know I won’t have to be the bad cop. But let’s hope she and I never have to be Bean’s guardians. I’m good with just being the cool aunt.”

The crib was easier to put together than they had originally thought. It only took Beca forty-five minutes, and once it was all done, Chloe grabbed the mattress and set it inside.

“It’s just missing one thing,” Beca said, casting Chloe a smile before she left the room, coming back a minute later. “Close your eyes.” 

Chloe did so, and it sounded like Beca was fumbling with something by the crib. 

“Okay, open them now.” 

Chloe let out a soft gasp at the sight of the animal mobile set up above the crib. A fox surrounded by mountains and clouds. “Beca…” 

“I wanted to get Bean a gift, and you mentioned an animal mobile, so I had this custom made with a friend of a friend.” 

“It’s perfect,” Chloe whispered, blinking back the tears pricking behind her eyes. She was used to crying over the smallest of things by now that she wasn’t embarrassed anymore. Wrapping an arm around Beca’s waist, she leaned her head over her shoulder, basking in the warmth and peace being in close proximity with Beca brought her. 

“I think so, too,” Beca murmured, her own arm coming up to wrap around Chloe’s back as she brushed a soft kiss to her forehead. 

*

Summer chilled to fall over the following week. Chloe was thankful for the cooler temperatures, as her body felt like a furnace on its own, she didn’t need any additional heat. Now thirty-one weeks, she had started to waddle, much to Beca’s amusement, it seemed, even if she only claimed to find it adorable. She also got winded after walking up a single flight of stairs and was insanely grateful for the elevator in Beca’s building. 

Hanging a left when it reached the right floor, Chloe headed down the hallway, pulling her keys out of her jacket pocket and sliding them into the lock. 

“SURPRISE!” 

Chloe jolted slightly, her hand shooting up to her chest in shock. Most of the Bellas stood in Beca’s decorated living-room, beaming at her. Above them hung a cute oh baby banner and a table was laid out with various snacks and a cake. 

“Oh my gosh, you guys!” She exclaimed as soon as she regained her composure, stepping further inside to hug each one of her friends tightly. “Did you do all this?” She asked when she got to Beca, awe leaking in her tone.

“Aubrey helped,” Beca said, nodding towards the blonde standing to her right. 

“Thank you,” Chloe murmured as she pulled away, embracing Aubrey next. It had taken some time for them to find their way back to how they used to be after so many years apart, and Chloe was so grateful Aubrey gave her a second chance. “Love you, Bree.” 

“Love you, too.” 

The afternoon was filled with fun activities such as onesie decorating, a Name that Tune game with songs that had the word baby in it, and a cupcake decorating contest. Towards the end of the day, Chloe was coaxed into opening the girls’ present, starting with the one Jessica set in her lap. 

“This is from all of us,” she said, smiling as Chloe peered into the bag. 

She fished the item out, her heart bursting in her chest as she unfolded the blue and gold onesie which bore the Barden Bella B. “Oh… I love it. Thank you.” 

The girls definitely spoiled Bean, gifting Chloe with a bunch of adorable onesies, animal stuffies, mittens, swaddles, a bear winter jumpsuit for those freezing days ahead of them, and an expensive-looking electric swing.

“This is too much,” she croaked out once she had unwrapped the large box, shaking her head in disbelief as the girls simply waved her concern off. 

“Oh, that’s from your parents,” Beca chimed in as Chloe reached for the second-to-last present. 

Tears pooled in her eyes (she had honestly lost track of how many times she’d cried in the last couple of hours) as she took the familiar item out of the bag. “It’s my baby blanket,” she told the girls as she unfolded the mustard blanket her mom had knitted while she was pregnant with her. She traced the name she had picked for her baby girl, which her mom had added in white lettering in a corner. Chloe smiled as she brought it to her nose; it smelled like home. 

The last gift was a pampering kit for Chloe, as well as a few items she would need for after labor. 

“I learned some stuff about childbirth that I wish I’d never known while looking for items to add to this,” Amy said with a grimace, drawing a giggle from Chloe. “I didn’t know things could tear like that down below.” 

Chloe winced along with the rest of the Bellas, her chuckle coming out strained. “Thanks, Amy.” 

Beca ordered pizzas for everyone, and the girls stuck around until nine pm, helping to clean up the living-room before they left. Chloe changed into her pajamas and made herself some herbal tea for her and Beca, joining her on the couch. 

“You okay?” Beca asked as she took one of the mugs from Chloe. 

“Yeah,” Chloe breathed out, curling up on the opposite end of the couch. “Thank you for today. It was so nice to see the girls again. I’m really lucky.” 

“You’re welcome, Chlo.” She motioned towards her lap. “C’mon, hand me those feet.” 

Chloe giggled, setting her feet on Beca’s thighs and biting back a moan as she started kneading the sole of her right foot. It had become a sort of a ritual these past few weeks, for Beca to give Chloe a foot rub while they chilled on the couch after dinner. “Am I going to lose those privileges once I’m no longer pregnant?” She teased. 

Beca smirked. “We’ll see.”

“I heard back from my old vet school, this morning,” Chloe said, following a few minutes of comfortable silence. She had been communicating back and forth with the advisor over there, who finally heard back from the head of the department. “Since I did two years of vet school already, I’d only have to do one more year to become a vet tech. They offered for me to jump into the school year in January, but that feels a little too soon after Bean gets here, so I think I’ll wait until September next year,” she explained as she rubbed her bump. “But I definitely plan on getting a part-time job waitressing or something by next spring, as soon as Bean is old enough go to daycare.” 

Finding a good daycare with availability had been a headache, but Chloe had luckily found a spot at the one she had set her eyes on in the neighborhood. 

“That’s great news,” Beca mused aloud, smiling. “I’m proud of you.” 

“I wouldn’t be where I am without you, Bec,” Chloe murmured, returning her smile. A groan flitted past her lips a second later. “Ugh, I need to pee again.” 

Beca chuckled as Chloe heaved herself to her feet and waddled to the bathroom. She had just shut the door behind her when a sharp pain in her lower belly made her double over, her hand shooting out to grip the counter while the other one cradled her bump. 

Panic gripped her insides as she slowly straightened when her head stopped spinning, letting go of her stomach to dip her hand past the waistband of her sweatpants. Her fingers met something warm and sticky, and Chloe’s heart lurched to her throat when she pulled them out, eyes zeroing on the blood. 

“No, no, no,” she muttered to herself, forcing down the lump forming in her throat with a hard swallow. She called Beca’s name, her voice wavering as tears rose to her eyes. 

“What’s wrong??” Beca rushed out as she rounded the corner, the sight before her answering her own question. Her eyes widened, and she paled, freezing for a couple of seconds before setting into motion. “I’m taking you to the ER. I’ll grab your shoes and coat.” 

Chloe gave a faint nod even though she wasn’t sure she registered Beca’s words. Her feet seemed rooted to the floor while Beca’s hurried steps faded. She couldn’t move. She kept staring at her bloodied hand as the most dreaded, terrible, gut-wrenching feeling seized her entire being. 

“I can’t--” she found herself saying when Beca appeared in her line of vision. The air got stuck in her throat before it could reach her lungs, just as her words died before it reached her tongue. She couldn’t lose her baby. “Bec.” 

“I know,” Beca murmured as she helped Chloe slip her jacket on. Her own hands were shaking. She bent down to guide Chloe’s feet into her sneakers, one by one, then grabbed a towel from the cupboard under the sink. 

Another cramp made Chloe cry out, and she felt more blood seeping out of her, in a greater amount this time around. She felt it dripping down her legs and choked on a sob, clutching at her stomach. 

The elevator ride and walk to the car was a blur, and Chloe found herself blankly staring out the window as Beca rushed to the hospital, hoping with all her might that her baby would be okay.

[acciofanfics]

Payback (Cedric Diggory x Reader)

Summary: Marcus Flint messes up (Y/N)’s potion to mess with her. Unfortunately for him she has quite the idea for payback. 

Paring: Cedric Diggory x Slytherin Reader

Warnings: Language maybe? Plotting? I think this one is pretty safe.

Word Count: 1248

A/N: So this was just a random idea I had... Let’s pretend that none of our hearts were broken in Goblet of Fire and they just had regular Quidditch for the sake of this imagine. Requests are still open! - S

____________________________________

Her blood boiled, and anyone watching the girl could’ve easily come to the conclusion that her face was hotter than the potion in front of her bubbling out of her cauldron. (Y/N)’s teeth were gritted and she mostly tuned out Professor Snape who was scolding her on such a stupid mistake. A stupid mistake in deed, one she definitely did not make.

Perhaps the old saying that people can feel when they’re being watched was a lie, because Marcus Flint didn’t seem bothered by the holes she was boring into the back of his head while she cleaned up ‘her’ mess. No, (Y/N) had seen Marcus dump a vial of something in her cauldron while she was gathering some lion fish spines. She had to make the assumption it was because she’d turn his offer to Hogsmeade down.

A wicked grin spread on her face as a plan formed in her head. Surely she could tell the truth, she was one of Snape’s favorite students and top of his class, but where was the fun in that. No, she would get Marcus back. It might not be that day or the next, but she had something in mind and it would take little to no effort to execute.

It’d taken only about a day and half for her to gather all of the information and material she needed. It was on to phase two, which would be the trickier part. (Y/N) waited patiently, her nose half stuck in a book to keep suspicion down. But when her target came into view she wasted no time throwing the book down, “Diggory! May I have a word?”

Cedric stopped in his tracks... there was slight concern on his once carefree face. In his defense, Slytherins rarely talked to people outside their own house without ill words being exchanged. He was taught however to be polite, and (Y/N) was never really a name he heard terrible things about so it seemed only logical to indulge her request, “Y-yes?”

“I was just wondering if you might like some insider information on an upcoming Quidditch game?" (Y/N) smiled sweetly at him.

Cedric knew exactly what she was talking about. In about 3 days Hufflepuffs and Slytherins were due to play against each other. Their strategy would be a nice advantage... especially since their strategy was usually to cheat. Was this considered cheating? How did he know this wasn’t a trap anyways, “Why?”

“Flint made me look like an idiot in class the other day and I truthfully could not care less about his stupid Quidditch team, so why not get a little pay back?” (Y/N) could see the wheels in his head turning, probably trying to read some blasted moral compass or whatever, “I’m not telling you to jinx the brooms or anything. Just trying to make sure you’re capable of adapting to their playing style. It’ll still be completely up to your team’s skill on whether or whether not you can even make this information useful.”

Well, she had a point. “I suppose if you wanted to tell me something, it would be rude to leave a conversation.”

For the next 3 days, Cedric and (Y/N) found themselves having brief chats in the corridor. At first it was just about something Marcus said, but then it was a ‘how was your day?’ then about whatever Marcus said. Cedric could see why she’d been sorted into Slytherin... she was smart and determined and a bit cunning, but he still thought she seemed different. She wasn’t overly rude or snobby and she said it was all for payback so that had to count for something.

Cedric found his eyes drifting to her whenever they shared a class or when he could spot her in the Great Hall. She was quite pretty.... really pretty actually, and he was growing fond of her personality too. It did make him wonder why Flint would’ve gone out of his way to mess with her, especially being a housemate. Cedric wouldn’t even entertain a thought like that for a second if their places were reversed. And he pondered their places being reversed at least a few times, particularly whenever he saw (Y/N) getting chummy with Flint. He was certain she probably assumed that the end would outweigh the means. He supposed they did... I mean, they ended up winning.

(Y/N) contemplated revealing her ingenious plan when Marcus Flint (the rest of the team in tow) storming into the common room. She decided against it though, his frustration was satisfaction enough, and she hadn’t felt amazing about betraying EVERYONE on the team. Still, his annoyance made her giddy and it was best she got out of there, before she blew her own cover by laughing at the sore loser.

Cedric wasn’t sure why he assumed he’d find her in the library, but he did, and now that he found her he felt a little silly. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say, “Hey.”

“Well hello. I believe a congratulations are in order.” (Y/N) smiled again at him, this time it wasn’t nearly as fake (maybe not even forced at all), “Shouldn’t you be off celebrating? I heard it was a spectacular game for Hufflepuff. Someone in the hallway was talking about how you were reading his mind.”

Cedric blushed a bit. He’d heard that too, and as good as it felt it did make him feel a little guilty too. “Well, we owe to you really. So I thought I’d come say thanks.... so thanks.” He chuckled nervously, wondering why he was suddenly so worried about what he said. Well, he knew why. She didn’t need him anymore and he didn’t want to say anything to remind her of that.

“You’re welcome, but honestly I’ve seen you guys play. You probably could’ve won without me.” Her compliment seemed to sincere that Cedric was worried he was turning red again, but then she winked at him and he knew he didn’t have to worry. He definitely was. “I just wanted to make sure.”

“I do have a question for you, if you don’t mind.” Cedric waited until she nodded to continue, “Why did Flint want to mess with you anyways? You’re both very, I mean you’re both in Slytherin.”

“I told him I wouldn’t go on a date with him, and that git ruined my potion! That’s bloody insane right? Plus most of them only care about themselves... which I suppose I shouldn’t talk much.” (Y/N) laughed, there wasn’t much point in denying that she might’ve been acting a bit selfish lately.

“Insane....” Cedric took a breath, and calmed himself down. He was normally so laid back. “You know, if you were to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend... it might add insult to injury.”

(Y/N) shot him a knowing smirk, “I think you might be right. You can meet me in the courtyard, no reason to walk all the way to the dungeons.”

Cedric smiled and nodded. He’d be there without a doubt. When (Y/N) looked back down at her book he assumed that was his cue to leave, he needed to get back anyways. There was a celebration going on and his absence was most likely noted. His head snapped back immediately when he heard her call his name. She didn’t even look up from her book, but Cedric could sense the smug smile on her face (not that he minded), “Seriously though. Good game today.”

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Satisfied, Part 29

First

Previous

Next

~~~

Marinette smiled as she waved Red Hood off, watching him disappear. She waited a few seconds to make sure he wasn’t coming back before shrugging off her shoes and gloves.

The purple was higher now.

She swallowed thickly.

“Tikki, spots off,” she murmured, hand out to catch the kwami the second she appeared.

Tikki hit her hand, mostly immobile. The only way you could tell the god was still alive was the tiny twitches of her antennae.

She gently set her back in her bag and surrounded her by cookies. She knew they wouldn’t help, the kwami hadn’t used their lucky charm in ages, but she figured she should at least apologize for continuing to use her without an active Plagg.

Marinette dropped onto her bed and stared at the ceiling.

Ultimately, she didn’t trust Robin enough to give him the cat miraculous. Sure, he seemed to be pretty set on the good side, which was a giant plus, but she didn’t know if the two of them could work together without bickering.

She sighed.

Great. Then how could she keep hiding the fact that her costume was disappearing? It was disappearing at a pretty quick rate, the pro gloves and sneakers wouldn’t do much good for long. She supposed she could get a jacket... Oh! A leather jacket. She could say she was taking after her new mentor. Some boots to go along with it... 

She nodded to herself and put in an order to be delivered the next day. So that’s done.

But it was a temporary solution.

She eyed her bag. Tikki was always perfectly quiet, but now she wished that she wasn’t. She wanted her to speak up and say ‘Marinette...’ in that exasperated voice of hers. Tikki always knew how to be rational, she'd know what to do.

But she didn’t say anything, and Marinette was alone.

What could she do? She needed someone to hold Plagg and let out that extra energy to bring balance back, but who could she find on such short notice...?

Her eyes flicked to Adrien’s outfit on its hanger.

She bit the inside of her cheek.

~

The next day she woke to a knock on her door. She groaned and shuffled out of bed, blanket wrapped around her. She walked up and stood on the tips of her toes to peek out and see who was there.

She stumbled back and squeaked. Crap! Crapcrapcrap!

She ran about her apartment to pull on clothes. “SORRY, JUST A MINUTE!” She yelled, which was only met by a bit of laughter.

After managing to pull on clothes she ran to the door and flung it open.

“Adrien!” She chirped, pushing some hair out of her face.

He broke into a grin as he looked her up and down. From the mismatched socks on her feet to the rats nest that was her hair, it was pretty clear that she had just woken up.

“Hard to wake as ever, M’lady,” he teased, leaning against the doorframe.

She gave a small huff. “Whatever. Your outfit is right there.” She motioned vaguely to her closet. She looked down at herself and cringed. “I’m going to... yeah.”

She darted into the bathroom.

When she came out, Adrien was completely dressed. He messed with his tie awkwardly in the mirror.

She frowned quickly fixed it, before pulling him into the middle of the room so she could see the entirety of the outfit. At the moment it was a plain black suit and dark green tie (she didn’t want to do any embroidery only to find she needed to change the dimensions it) but he didn’t comment on it.

“Um... how’s Paris doing without us?” She asked softly, pulling the suit jacket away from his stomach. He was gaining weight, she’d expected that, but she needed to figure out at what rate --.

He sighed. “So that’s why you asked me here...”

She didn’t bother to contradict him, he was right. That was the original reason why she’d accepted his request, she’d wanted to ask after Paris and make sure she hadn’t made the wrong decision by coming here.

When she didn’t answer, his shoulders slumped ever so slightly. “It’s getting better. The police weren’t prepared for us to up and disappear, so they were a bit out of practice.”

“But everything’s good now?” She asked, pulling a tape measure from her pockets and checking his waist.

“It’s getting there.”

She nodded and pulled away, murmuring to herself and writing down his new size so she could do some calculations later. She pushed herself to her feet and frowned at the tie she had just fixed. It was loose again. Had she messed up somewhere while making it or was he doing it? If so, why --?

It was here where she finally took in her ex-partner. His hair was far messier than she was used to, little tufts sticking up at odd angles. There was less makeup on his face than usual. She’d expected the weight gain, what with less patrols and constant fighting, but it had been more than she’d expected. That could mean...

Marinette looked at Adrien and gave a smile. “Someone took my words to heart, huh?”

His face reddened slightly and he looked away. “Is it that obvious?”

“Well, it took a professional designer a few minutes to piece it together, so I’d say probably not.”

Her eyes found their way to where the miraculous box was hidden. She’d called him here earlier than she usually would to ask him to take back the cat miraculous. She hadn’t expected him to start working on himself so soon, she didn’t want to ruin any progress he was making.

Then she thought of Tikki, curled up and almost completely immobile.

“Marinette...?” He asked quietly, resting a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m fine. I’m happy for you,” she said softly.

“You don’t have to lie to me. I want what’s best for you, I’m your partner, remember?”

She cringed. “I know. That’s why I can’t ask it of you.”

The hand on her shoulder gave her a tiny shake and she let her gaze fall to the floor.

And then he let go, his hand falling to his side lamely.

“I’m going to make your outfit more baggy. It’ll help with covering any weight gain and it goes better with your messy look.”

“Okay,” he said softly.

The silence stretched on and kwami she just wanted him to talk because she knew that if he didn’t she would ask him and --.

“Can I see Plagg again?” He asked.

She looked up at him. Could he hear her thoughts?

Still, she nodded and walked to the miracle box and pulled out the ring. It pulsed with an almost blinding green light and she curled her fingers over it to block some of it out.

Plagg poked his head between her fingers and then gave a small “ADRIEN!”

She looked away as the two embraced, dropping onto her bed as they chatted excitably.

“Look at you! Finally gaining weight, I see? I told you your dad wasn’t feeding you well enough!”

“That was only because he didn’t give me cheese for every meal of the day.”

“And I was right! How could he deprive you of such luxuries? In hindsight only he could have been Hawkmoth!”

Adrien laughed and shook his head, before pulling the kwami close for a kind of hug.

“So! Finally becoming Chat Noir again?”

The blond’s smile lessened slightly. “No, no, I’m not going to. I’ve been using Chat Noir as a way to be myself, but recently I’ve actually been able to do it without him. Besides, Ladybug is doing fine here, from what I’ve seen in papers. It’ll be fine.”

Plagg frowned and looked at Marinette, who had started making the  ‘nononoshutup’ motion with her hands.

“You haven’t told him?”

She groaned and rested her head in her hands.

“Marinette, you haven’t told me something?” He asked.

She didn’t respond, gripping the ring tighter. He’d said it himself, he’d been doing better without the persona. She couldn’t ask him to take it up again, she couldn’t let him go back to the way he was. He was right, they were partners. She wanted what was best for him, too.

“Tikki is getting weaker without the cat miraculous being active.”

Adrien frowned. The bed shifted as he sat down next to her. “Marinette...”

“I’m dealing with it, Adrien, it’s fine.”

“I’ll take it back if you’re suffering.”

Marinette cringed. She wished she was the one suffering, at least then she would be able to get through it. But it was Tikki who was getting weaker, not her.

Was either of their potential suffering greater? Was it fair to let go of one’s happiness for another’s liveliness, or vice versa? Could she even make that decision?

“I’m not suffering, Adrien. And I’ve found someone that I’ve been considering. Robin. I think he could be a fit, I’m scouting him out right now,” she said.

Not a complete lie, at least.

“Are you sure?”

She smiled, choosing to ignore the glare Plagg was sending her way. “Yep. I’d tell you if I needed you, right? We’re partners. Partners communicate.”

“Okay...”

She sat up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Anyways, you’re done here. I’ll get this to you once I’ve finished, okay?”

He looked reluctant to leave, but he gave a small nod. She turned around so he could change and sighed to herself when he set it down on the bed beside her. She turned back around and waved at him. He hugged Plagg and gave Marinette a tiny wave back.

“See you later, kitty.”

“Later, M’lady.”

~~~

I have found out that I have been using ‘parole’ instead of ‘patrol’ this whole time...

Welp, this is it boys, time to pack it up it was fun while it lasted this fic is cancelled--

~

Taglist

@comet-kun @thatonecroc @trippingovermyfeet @swiftie-miraculer13 @nickristus-dreamer @moongoddesskiana @i-am-ironic @indecisive-mess-named-me @thebooki3h @insane-fangirl-of-everything @deepestobservationwombat @theymakeupfairies @fatimaabbasrizvi @clumsy-owl-4178 @fanofalittletoomuch @iamablinkmarvelarmy @nathleigh @lilkymilky @silvergold-swirl @dino-lovingreen-angel @thestressmademedoit @kissa-chan @ladybug-182 @alysrose-starchild @t1dwarrior-of-earth @spyofthenightcourt @rowanrouge @nik-nak-3 @momothefemur @aestheticnpoetic @labschaos @our-preciousss @mochinek0 @eliza-bich @mythogaychic @severelyenchantedwonderland @sashakoi @smolplantmum @bluesimani @tropestropestropes @kitsunebell @keepingupwiththemalfoys @sassakitty @2confused-2doanything @too0bsessedformyowngood @all-mights-asscheeks @demonicbusiness @meg-an-ace

<3

[seasonofthewicth]

do you know santa?

prompt: I was dressed up as an elf, because of my job. You’re drunk and think I actually know Santa - rowaelin - 1k

There’s a terrible, terrible, song playing on repeat and he’s beginning to wonder if a song can be a genuine cause of insanity.

The lyrics are droning on and on about being with the one you love at Christmas time, and Rowan thinks that’s bullshit. He told Lorcan as much when he caught him humming it in the kitchen of their shitty apartment the day before.

And as if it couldn’t get any worse his tights are itching where he stands, waiting outside the Santa’s grotto display. 

Yes he’s wearing fucking tights, and he’s already been through all of the gods at least twice, cursing them for putting him in this position, but he needs the cash. And as mortifying as it is to be almost thirty and employed to work as an elf in a mall, it’s paid pretty well and it’s easy to do. As long as he buries the humiliation deep inside himself and plasters on the fake smile he gives to all the customers.

Normally it’s just families, maybe a mum or dad and their child, and most of them ignore him, but sometimes, sometimes like today, there’s a customer who decides he’s worth more than a dismissal. He can’t tell if he hates it or not.

“Oh my gods, do you know Santa?”

The girl in front of him is clearly wasted. Her thick, blonde hair is tangled and slightly mussed, and her mascara has been sort of smudged beneath her lashes. 

Her words are slurred, and she barely manages to speak around the hiccups that erupt from her chest. He’s definitely not paid enough for this.

She’s hot though, that much he can tell. 

She’s tall and slender, but hidden beneath the heavy coat she wears, likely to fend off the brutal Terrasen winters, he can make out some killer curves. The way she bites her wine-stained lower lip is sexy too, he could see himself biting it.

There’re so many problems with that though. Not only is he working, this girl is trashed. So much so she can barely stand still as she clings to the arm of the girl at her side.

Another beautiful woman, big green eyes and full red lips, but brunettes aren’t really his type. 

“No,” he grinds out, crossing his arms, and the woman frowns, her brows pulling in as she pouts.

“You aren’t a very fun elf.” 

The only thing that holds back his eye roll is that he knows his boss is somewhere around here and Maeve would kick his ass if he was a dick to a customer. No matter that they’re clearly far too old for the Santa display at the mall and, for a final time, absolutely fucked. 

“I’m plenty of fun,” He doesn’t let any joy sneak into his tone, he kind of wants her to go away. All the blonde does is cock her head at him and try to steady her footing as she peers up at him.

“I bet you are,” she says with a laugh and her friend at her side bursts into peals of laughter. 

He looks down at her again, looking past the absurdity of her appearing in front of him in this mall, and thinks if he saw her somewhere else he’d feel very differently.

If he was in a club, and he’d had a drink himself and she approached him, he knows he’d last barely five minutes before his mouth was on hers and his hand was up the hem of whatever tiny dress she’d be wearing.

But they’re not, and he still has a couple of hours left of his shift so he shakes the vision away and focuses on getting rid of her.

“Yeah,” he hums in response to her statement, not really playing along.

“What’s your name, elf?” She demands.

He can hardly hold back his sigh, but he supposes not much harm could come from giving her his name. It’s also written on the badge pinned to his tunic, but she likely can’t read that now. 

“Rowan.” 

She nods, like it’s a very serious piece of information before she says “Aelin.”

And yeah, that name matches her. It’s a little bit different and he likes it.

“Well, Aelin,” he says. “Santa can’t see you today.”

He can, but she doesn’t need to know that, and Gavriel definitely doesn’t need this drunk twenty-something plopping herself in his lap.

She pouts again, and he honestly thinks there could be tears in her eyes, but eventually she nods. Her friend hasn’t said a word, her eyes have been closed for most of the exchange, but she jerks to attention as Aelin steps back.

“Bye Rowan.” Aelin says as she turns. “You have pointy ears like an elf.”

He frowns and raises a hand to the tip of his ear but the girls are already gone, stumbling away to the tune of some overly loud giggling.

-

He is so much more than thankful when the holiday season is over and he can visit the mall without the trauma of wearing tights and he drops into a café to grab a coffee before he heads home. 

The woman in front of him in the line has blonde hair tied neatly in a bun at the nape of her neck and he can tell, even through the smart pencil skirt she wears, that her body is incredible. 

He loses himself in a daydream and tries not to stare at her ass as the queue moves but he’s snapped out of his musings by the woman in front of him giving her name to the barista.

“Aelin,” she says, and he’s only ever met one person called that before.

“Aelin?” He asks, before he can fully process that the words are slipping out and the woman spins to face him.

There’s only a beat before she flushes, her cheeks staining a bright pink as she lifts a hand to cover her mouth. 

“Rowan, was it?” He feels himself grin at the clear embarrassment she shows and he gives her a break as he places his own order.

“I’m surprised you remembered.”

She shoots him a look at that, but she doesn’t lean away from where their arms are brushing. Their coffees are ready at pretty much the same time, hers only slightly before his and she definitely waits for his to be handed over before saying, “Want to grab a seat?”

He grins, yes, and moves to follow her over to a table as he says, “Not quite Santa’s lap but I hope it will do.”