#i think i just have to resign myself to a horrible night’s sleep either way

[fingertipsmp3]

Just did that fun thing of hyperfocusing and then remembering the rest of the world exists & immediately being hit with every status effect imaginable

[fanficshiddles]

Tear You To Pieces, Chapter 11 (Final Chapter)

The following morning, Kelly woke up after a horrible sleep trapped in Loki’s arms, it had been laden with nightmares. But when she woke, she wished she had been back in one of those nightmares, as the one she was living was much worse.

Loki had kept her prisoner in his bed for a while that morning, petting her and toying with her body. He made her cum a few times and then took her again. Now he was just chatting away to her as if nothing was wrong while he got dressed, she lay shaking in his bed still. Curled up.

She wasn’t sure what was worse, the fact that he had raped her or the fact he was acting as if it was all normal, that they were a happy couple. It made her feel sick to think about either way.

Loki turned to face her and frowned. ‘Come on, get up. I’ve got a job I need to do, to let the world know exactly who is in charge. And you are coming with me.’ He snapped his fingers impatiently.

When she got out of bed, she wrapped her arms around herself and stood there awkwardly. She didn’t know what she was supposed to be doing. Loki opened the door, then looked at her expectantly.

‘Let’s go. Don’t think you’re getting clothes, if that’s what you’re waiting for.’ He said firmly, making her stomach drop.

Kelly knew there was no point fighting or trying to get away, so she submissively followed Loki to his throne room as he called it.

‘Get under my desk and use that pretty mouth of yours to keep me satisfied.’ Loki pointed towards said desk that was on front of his throne-like-chair. The desk was pretty big, so Kelly was a little relieved that at least she wouldn’t be too cramped.

She was resigning herself to being Loki’s slave. It was her own fault, after all. She blamed herself, and would every single day.

Before Kelly went over to the desk, Loki gripped her chin and had her look at him for a moment. He studied her closely, then smirked and brushed his thumb up over her lower lip.

‘Mmm, yes. You are going to make this job much more exciting.’ He purred, his smirk growing larger. ‘Now be a good girl and get into position.’

Kelly meekly crossed the room and crawled underneath the desk. Loki sat down on his throne, legs spread wide and he looked down, grinning at the sight of her down there.

‘Get started, darling. I have some business to attend to.’ He urged her.

Wanting to get it over and done with, Kelly began the difficult task of getting his cock free. It wasn’t easy with his armour that he was so adamant on wearing all the time. But she eventually got his cock out and reluctantly started stroking him.

‘Use that mouth of yours, pet. Don’t disappoint me.’ He growled with a quick glance under to her.

She really didn’t want to, but she knew she had no option. So she leaned in closer, hands on his thighs and she wrapped her lips around the tip of him, then slowly began sucking.

Loki let out a sigh of pleasure, but he was still able to focus. Only just. Her mouth felt so warm and lovely around him. He cleared his throat and clicked his fingers, a screen appeared up on front of him. It was recording him, broadcasting to every single TV in the world and appearing on everyone’s smartphone in an emergency video.

Kelly paused when she realised what was happening, Loki began a big speech about being ruler of the world. How many countries he had and which ones were under threat if they didn’t yield to him soon.

She carried on sucking his cock when she felt a sharp pain in her neck, it was Loki using his seidr as it felt like a collar was wrapped around her neck again. Hollowing her cheeks, she tried to work harder to get him to cum sooner than later, to get it over and done with. But Loki seemed to be lasting quite a while…

Then she felt dread run through her veins.

‘But of course, I wouldn’t have been able to be in this position if it wasn’t for this lovely little thing… Let me introduce you all to her.’ He said wickedly and tugged on her invisible collar, dragging her up out from under the desk.

Of course she tried to flee, but Loki kept a tight hold of her and hauled her onto his lap. Forcing her to face the screen, he had her sit over his cock and she felt him at her entrance as he leaned round and gripped her chin, keeping her head in place so she couldn’t look away.

‘Smile for the camera, darling.’ Loki hissed harshly into her ear and he then pulled her down onto him so his cock pressed painfully into her, forcing her body to accommodate him once again. She was mortified to find she was a little bit aroused, enough to make it less painful than last night’s first time.

The entire world could see her naked upper body, and most of them were able to know what was going on from the way her body flushed red in embarrassment and Loki’s breathing deepened.

‘That’s it, my pet. You belong to me just as much as your whole world does now.’ He growled and then winked at the screen before it cut out.

‘Mmm, such a good girl. MY good girl. And now the whole world knows it.’ Loki purred and began toying with her nipples as he thrust up into her, making her mewl.

His praise was making her wetter, Loki could feel her contracting around him hard. He grinned and bit down on her shoulder, chuckling against her.

‘You can deny it all you want, pet. But we both know you’re my good girl and always will be.’

-

That same evening, while Kelly was still reeling after everything that had been happening, she finally had some alone time when Loki went for a bath.  

When Loki disappeared out of the room, she waited a few minutes until she heard the bath water running enough, then she grabbed a blanket to wrap around herself, as there was no sign of her clothes anywhere.

She scurried to the door, but it was still locked as she had expected. So she ran to the large window and felt such relief when it opened and she stepped outside onto the balcony. But then she realised she didn’t know what to do next, it was really high up and all that was down below was the concrete roads and pavements, there was no way she could jump.

‘Come on, think. Use your brain, Kelly!’ She hissed at herself as she stepped back inside.

Looking up, she spotted the smoke alarm. If Loki hadn’t changed much of the initial security system in the building, perhaps she could use that to her advantage. So, with a quick glance around the room, she came up with a plan.

Grabbing one of the pillows off the bed she ran to the fire place and put it in enough to set it alight. She then went underneath where the alarm was and held the pillow up towards it, just as she had hoped, the smoke was enough to go up to the alarm and set it off.

Normally, when the smoke alarms went off in the tower it was set up so all the doors would unlock for people to get out safely, and it would set the sprinklers off.

But not this time. While the sprinklers did go off, wetting everything in the room, when she ran to the door it was still locked. She let out a sob as she banged hard against it in frustration and fear.

A dark chuckle came from behind her, making her jump out of her skin. ‘Did you really think that little plan would work?’

Kelly shook in fear as she slowly turned around to face Loki. She was a little surprised for a moment because he only had a towel wrapped around his hips, his hair was still wet too and dripping down his chest. He smirked when he saw her checking him out, but her eyes quickly shot back up to his face.

‘How stupid do you think I am, pet? That I would allow you to escape so easily? I don’t know whether to be angry that you tried to run away from me, or angry that you thought I’d be so stupid. Not to mention the state of my room now.’ He growled as he started walking towards her formidably.

She attempted to run to the other side of the room, but Loki grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her back into him, making her cry out in pain. He put his arm around her middle and held her tightly to his body as he snarled into her ear. ‘You are going nowhere, pet. You belong to me, like the rest of the world does. And you only have yourself to thank.’

He dragged her back towards the bed and when she was thrown onto it, invisible restraints instantly trapped her, making her immobile and sending her panic levels sky high again.

Loki could clearly see she was distressed and panicky, but he was about to make her worse. He stood at the side of the bed and held his hand out, palm up. A jar formed in his hand and Kelly let out a gasp in horror at what was inside it. It was Thor, but he had been turned into a frog. He was jumping at the glass, trying to escape.

‘If you aren’t careful, I will get you your very own jar.’ He snarled in warning. ‘No more stupid escape stunts. You do as you’re told. Do I make myself clear?’

Tears fell down Kelly’s face as she shook from head to toe. She nodded quickly, feeling a horrible stabbing feeling deep within her at the sight of Thor like that. Though she had thought he was dead too, with the others. Even though there had been no sign of his body.

Loki had the jar with frog Thor vanish, then he prowled onto the bed over the top of her and grinned. ‘Now, now. There’s no need to look so scared, pet.’ He cooed and stroked her cheek gently with the back of his hand. ‘If you’re my good girl, which I know you can be, you will have absolutely nothing to worry about ever again.’

He leaned down and stole a kiss from her lips.

[lin-nin]

Tribulation & Tenderness - Chapter 5

Ship: Main Technoblade x Reader, some Dream x Reader

Plot: You're a princess in a Kingdom suffering a years long famine. In a desperate attempt to help your people, you accept one simple offer: Marriage to the crown prince of a neighboring kingdom. Anything to help your people survive. Surely it can't be too bad, can it?

Chapter List: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 Disclaimer:   Cross-posted on Wattpad (discontinued) and Ao3. This is based off of everyone's CHARACTERS. I do not write fanfic based off the actual people.

-- Chapter 5: Confrontation < | Previous Chapter Technoblade Focal Point The two of them had sat in the library for a while after that, talking about only a few topics in between long spaces of silence. Techno had used that time to observe the princess. He noted the way her hair fell, the nervous shifting of her weight in the chair. She even would chew her lip in thought. Whatever she was thinking about was horribly hard to discern, though it was easy enough to see she was worried. Not that she could be entirely blamed.

She had looked worried and stressed this entire time. From the moment he had walked into the throne room and made eye contact with her. She was intimidated. He imagined he wasn't exactly the norm to what she often saw here. Her kingdom was known for its softness. Its inclination to avoid conflict. It was a point of confusion for why he was being made to marry her. His father had said that there were powerful allies in peace just as there often was in war. It was true, yet it was boring, in a way.

He was pulled from his reverie as she stood, glancing to the window. "It's nearing dinner time," A wistful sigh escaped her after the statement, "Do you want to take your books up to your room first? You didn't touch them, I assume you'd want to read them eventually." She had turned back towards him, gesturing to the few books he had picked out. That was his initial plan, in truth. Yet she was sitting there with that worried look on her face. It would have seemed wrong to not at least speak to her.

Slowly, Techno rose to his feet as well, pausing to get his books. "Yeah, I'll bring them back come morning." He turned, waiting for her as she came to his side. Once she had, he started walking, occasionally glancing at her from his peripheral.

"Great! I mean, ah, obviously you can keep them longer if needed. I don't expect you to read them all tonight." She stammered over her words again, looking away. Techno laughed quietly in response. Seemed like the brief comfort didn't last. It was definitely amusing to watch, though. She had a habit of stumbling over her words.

"Depends how well I'm able to sleep. Either way I won't hold onto them for long." Reassuring her seemed to ease her some, her shoulders relaxing. She was certainly a character. She simply walked with him then, staring ahead of them. She stood and waited outside his room, letting him take the few moments he needed to set the books down. He set them down atop the trunk sitting at the foot of his bed, pausing for a few seconds. Hopefully their parents had worked out their problems. He warned his father long ahead of time that this arrangement wouldn’t be received well.

His fingers brushed the book and he sighed, head shaking. If they hadn’t, he just wouldn’t deal with it. It wasn’t worth it. He had little to gain from this. He had his doubts the marriage would be jeopardized under any circumstance. There would be too much worry about upsetting his kingdom. They also had the food that was desperately needed here. Even if they were unsettled about his presence as opposed to Wilbur’s, they would deal with it.

He blew out a small puff of air, leaving the room once more. He glanced at the princess again, and she offered up a smile. Did she know of the unrest among her parents? Perhaps she did, but she didn’t show it. That, or she didn’t know enough to give her reason to be afraid of him. Ignorance of some form, then. That or a good actress, but she didn’t exactly give off that vibe.

“You’ll have to forgive our dinner. As you know we’ve been rather tight of food lately. Of course, you’re helping with that and it means… a lot. To both me and my citizens, I imagine.” Moments like this, it shone that she was a princess raised with diplomacy and respect. When she had to be this way, she would be. Even though she seemed to be so bumbling and awkward outside of diplomacy.

“It was in our best interest. We aren’t exactly hurting for food ourselves,” He explained. They had quite a surplus, in truth. Their lands had been generous for a few years. It made sense to give extra to a neighboring kingdom. It wouldn’t do if someone took advantage of their weakened state for an invasion.

“All the same, you have our eternal thanks.” She smiled softly, wandering along towards the dining hall with him. The silence wasn’t entirely awkward like the past ones. This one was a touch more comfortable, even as they walked into the dining hall, which was filled with soft chatter. Almost immediately, he felt a gaze on him. His head turned, seeking out the holder.

At the same time he spotted the blonde-headed man, the girl beside him bounded forward with a shout of, “Dream!” She settled into the spot beside him, having left Techno as if he wasn’t there in the first place. Dream, as she had called him, offered her a smile. His green eye never left him, though. It bore into him almost resentfully. In a way, it was unnerving. In the same way it was familiar in a way he couldn’t name. His other eye was hidden beneath an eyepatch of gold fabric, the gold filigree lace covering some of the scar that tried to peak out from the bottom.

Other than that he was almost plain. His clothes were dark green and simple, fairly understated for someone sitting beside a princess. Techno pursed his lips, but moved into the seat across from his fiancee. She seemed fairly content with the set up, though the other did not.

“Right! Dream, this is Prince Technoblade. Techno, this is Dream. My best friend,” She introduced with a grin, reaching for a cup nearby to sip from. The two looked at each other for a long moment. Waiting for the other to say something first.

“Your reputation precedes you, Technoblade.” Dream spoke in a calculated tone, causing Techno to narrow his eyes. The princess nudged him, shooting him a look. Like she could tell he was not happy.

“I’m surprised you’ve heard of me. Everyone seems surprised by my arrival,” He mused. Prodding, almost. He could already tell Dream did not like him. He didn’t even care that much.

“We weren’t expecting you. I trust you’ll take care of her all the same.” An embarrassed expression crossed the princess’s face, nose scrunching a little. Like she looked dissatisfied with the implication she needed taking care of.

“I think I’m capable of taking care of her. I don’t let harm befall my family,” He fired back. A smug smirk curled his lips as Dream huffed. The girl across from him looked to the side with her own little huff, though they seemed to mean different things.

“I can take care of myself, thank you,” she grumbled, crossing her arms.

“You can’t even hold a sword.” Dream was quick to retort, causing an almost frustrated pout to cover her face.

“I can very well teach her, even if she doesn’t know. It’s good knowledge to have, regardless of status and who she’s with.” The look Dream sent Techno at this was dirty, clearly unhappy with the words. The princess, however, looked a little more interested. A light sparkled in her eyes, and Techno had a feeling she just hadn’t been allowed to learn. As expected from a soft kingdom like this.

Dinner proceeded a little more calmly, with the princess and Dream firing back and forth to each other multiple times. Techno only chimed in when he saw fit, otherwise resigning himself to his meal. As the meal closed, both he and Dream stood. He leveled Dream with a stare, resisting the urge to grab onto one of his swords.

“I’ll walk you to your room,” He finally broke the silence. Mainly just to irritate the man, and see the look on his face. She, however, smiled up at Techno, and gently patted Dream’s arm. This barely seemed to placate him as he huffed, turning to leave the dining hall.

“Thank you, Techno,” She hummed, waiting for him near the door. He nodded, walking with her outside of the hall. Habitually he put a hand on the pommel of one of his swords, well aware of the dangers that came with it being night. She led him towards the other side of the castle, seeming rather content with the silence for a few moments.

“Did you mean it?” She finally asked, looking up at him. He turned his head just slightly, looking at her curiously.

“Mean what?”

“That you’d teach me to hold a sword. Or fight with it,” She explained quietly, looking away. Like she was unsure about the whole idea.

“I’m willing to teach you to fight with something. It doesn’t make sense for you to not be able to defend yourself should you need to.” They rounded a corner, and she seemed extremely content with the answer.

“My parents wouldn’t teach me, and neither would Dream.” She hardly seemed happy at that, but the contentment she expressed at being able to learn at some point was rather nice. An eager student was a good one, truthfully.

“We’ll have to figure out what will fit you best when we get to my kingdom. Maybe after the wedding.” He tried to ignore how awkward it felt to say that, and she seemed equally flustered. She hesitated outside her door, as if contemplating if there were anything else she needed to say.

“That sounds good to me. Thank you, Techno. I’ll speak to you tomorrow.” She smiled up at him, and he nodded. Once she was safe inside her room, he turned to head towards his room. Silence fell around him, beyond the soft tapping of his boots. That, and a second, quieter pair trailing him. He wasn’t an idiot.

“You can quit trailing me and just talk to me,” He finally called out after a few seconds. He came to a stop in the hall, turning towards the sound. He didn’t technically need to look, either. He knew who it was. Dream slipped from the shadows, eye narrowed at him suspiciously. He eyes the hand Techno was resting on his pommel, almost warily. Like he would draw it at any second. Not that he planned to, unless provoked into doing such.

“Why get engaged to her?” He said bitterly, causing Techno to quirk his lips. Was that jealousy? Of course, he should have seen that coming. How cliche.

“What’s it matter to you? You clearly weren’t going to do it.” It was a cruel taunt, but deserved in a way. He wasn’t fond of Dream already, and he wasn’t sure if it was the possessiveness he expressed over his now fiancee.

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Dream practically bristled defensively. He looked ready to attack, and in truth it was amusing.

“I have no reason to answer. Besides, you won’t even teach her to defend herself. You want her dependent on you, don’t you?” His head tilted, a grin on his face. It was too easy to read him from an outside view.

“No. She’s just clumsy. If you so much as hurt her, I swear I’ll-”

“You’ll what? Kill me. Good luck. I told you I wouldn’t harm her and I have no intention to. She is my fiancee, not yours, Dream. Let me worry about her.” He spun on his heel, the movement almost militaristic. He didn’t care to listen to Dream’s possessive and jealous ramblings. Whatever chances he had had at one point, he had very clearly lost somewhere before Techno came along. Next Chapter | >

[imagine-loki]

Tear You To Pieces, Chapter 11 (Final Chapter)

TITLE: Tear You To Pieces CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 11 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki was sent to make up for his deeds by helping out The Avengers at the tower. Everyone thinks he’s changed, but he is just biding his time. He manipulates and uses someone who works there, who has a crush on him, to get exactly what he wants.  RATING: M

WARNINGS FOR THIS FIC: DARK LOKI, RAPE/NON-CON, MANIPULATION, MURDER, VIOLENCE, EMOTIONAL ABUSE, KIDNAPPING

  The following morning, Kelly woke up after a horrible sleep trapped in Loki’s arms, it had been laden with nightmares. But when she woke, she wished she had been back in one of those nightmares, as the one she was living was much worse.

Loki had kept her prisoner in his bed for a while that morning, petting her and toying with her body. He made her cum a few times and then took her again. Now he was just chatting away to her as if nothing was wrong while he got dressed, she lay shaking in his bed still. Curled up.

She wasn’t sure what was worse, the fact that he had raped her or the fact he was acting as if it was all normal, that they were a happy couple. It made her feel sick to think about either way.

Loki turned to face her and frowned. ‘Come on, get up. I’ve got a job I need to do, to let the world know exactly who is in charge. And you are coming with me.’ He snapped his fingers impatiently.

When she got out of bed, she wrapped her arms around herself and stood there awkwardly. She didn’t know what she was supposed to be doing. Loki opened the door, then looked at her expectantly.

‘Let’s go. Don’t think you’re getting clothes, if that’s what you’re waiting for.’ He said firmly, making her stomach drop.

Kelly knew there was no point fighting or trying to get away, so she submissively followed Loki to his throne room as he called it.

‘Get under my desk and use that pretty mouth of yours to keep me satisfied.’ Loki pointed towards said desk that was on front of his throne-like-chair. The desk was pretty big, so Kelly was a little relieved that at least she wouldn’t be too cramped.

She was resigning herself to being Loki’s slave. It was her own fault, after all. She blamed herself, and would every single day.

Before Kelly went over to the desk, Loki gripped her chin and had her look at him for a moment. He studied her closely, then smirked and brushed his thumb up over her lower lip.

‘Mmm, yes. You are going to make this job much more exciting.’ He purred, his smirk growing larger. ‘Now be a good girl and get into position.’

Kelly meekly crossed the room and crawled underneath the desk. Loki sat down on his throne, legs spread wide and he looked down, grinning at the sight of her down there.

‘Get started, darling. I have some business to attend to.’ He urged her.

Wanting to get it over and done with, Kelly began the difficult task of getting his cock free. It wasn’t easy with his armour that he was so adamant on wearing all the time. But she eventually got his cock out and reluctantly started stroking him.

‘Use that mouth of yours, pet. Don’t disappoint me.’ He growled with a quick glance under to her.

She really didn’t want to, but she knew she had no option. So she leaned in closer, hands on his thighs and she wrapped her lips around the tip of him, then slowly began sucking.

Loki let out a sigh of pleasure, but he was still able to focus. Only just. Her mouth felt so warm and lovely around him. He cleared his throat and clicked his fingers, a screen appeared up on front of him. It was recording him, broadcasting to every single TV in the world and appearing on everyone’s smartphone in an emergency video.

Kelly paused when she realised what was happening, Loki began a big speech about being ruler of the world. How many countries he had and which ones were under threat if they didn’t yield to him soon.

She carried on sucking his cock when she felt a sharp pain in her neck, it was Loki using his seidr as it felt like a collar was wrapped around her neck again. Hollowing her cheeks, she tried to work harder to get him to cum sooner than later, to get it over and done with. But Loki seemed to be lasting quite a while…

Then she felt dread run through her veins.

‘But of course, I wouldn’t have been able to be in this position if it wasn’t for this lovely little thing… Let me introduce you all to her.’ He said wickedly and tugged on her invisible collar, dragging her up out from under the desk.

Of course she tried to flee, but Loki kept a tight hold of her and hauled her onto his lap. Forcing her to face the screen, he had her sit over his cock and she felt him at her entrance as he leaned round and gripped her chin, keeping her head in place so she couldn’t look away.

‘Smile for the camera, darling.’ Loki hissed harshly into her ear and he then pulled her down onto him so his cock pressed painfully into her, forcing her body to accommodate him once again. She was mortified to find she was a little bit aroused, enough to make it less painful than last night’s first time.

The entire world could see her naked upper body, and most of them were able to know what was going on from the way her body flushed red in embarrassment and Loki’s breathing deepened.

‘That’s it, my pet. You belong to me just as much as your whole world does now.’ He growled and then winked at the screen before it cut out.

‘Mmm, such a good girl. MY good girl. And now the whole world knows it.’ Loki purred and began toying with her nipples as he thrust up into her, making her mewl.

His praise was making her wetter, Loki could feel her contracting around him hard. He grinned and bit down on her shoulder, chuckling against her.

‘You can deny it all you want, pet. But we both know you’re my good girl and always will be.’

-

That same evening, while Kelly was still reeling after everything that had been happening, she finally had some alone time when Loki went for a bath.  

When Loki disappeared out of the room, she waited a few minutes until she heard the bath water running enough, then she grabbed a blanket to wrap around herself, as there was no sign of her clothes anywhere.

She scurried to the door, but it was still locked as she had expected. So she ran to the large window and felt such relief when it opened and she stepped outside onto the balcony. But then she realised she didn’t know what to do next, it was really high up and all that was down below was the concrete roads and pavements, there was no way she could jump.

‘Come on, think. Use your brain, Kelly!’ She hissed at herself as she stepped back inside.

Looking up, she spotted the smoke alarm. If Loki hadn’t changed much of the initial security system in the building, perhaps she could use that to her advantage. So, with a quick glance around the room, she came up with a plan.

Grabbing one of the pillows off the bed she ran to the fire place and put it in enough to set it alight. She then went underneath where the alarm was and held the pillow up towards it, just as she had hoped, the smoke was enough to go up to the alarm and set it off.

Normally, when the smoke alarms went off in the tower it was set up so all the doors would unlock for people to get out safely, and it would set the sprinklers off.

But not this time. While the sprinklers did go off, wetting everything in the room, when she ran to the door it was still locked. She let out a sob as she banged hard against it in frustration and fear.

A dark chuckle came from behind her, making her jump out of her skin. ‘Did you really think that little plan would work?’

Kelly shook in fear as she slowly turned around to face Loki. She was a little surprised for a moment because he only had a towel wrapped around his hips, his hair was still wet too and dripping down his chest. He smirked when he saw her checking him out, but her eyes quickly shot back up to his face.

‘How stupid do you think I am, pet? That I would allow you to escape so easily? I don’t know whether to be angry that you tried to run away from me, or angry that you thought I’d be so stupid. Not to mention the state of my room now.’ He growled as he started walking towards her formidably.

She attempted to run to the other side of the room, but Loki grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her back into him, making her cry out in pain. He put his arm around her middle and held her tightly to his body as he snarled into her ear. ‘You are going nowhere, pet. You belong to me, like the rest of the world does. And you only have yourself to thank.’

He dragged her back towards the bed and when she was thrown onto it, invisible restraints instantly trapped her, making her immobile and sending her panic levels sky high again.

Loki could clearly see she was distressed and panicky, but he was about to make her worse. He stood at the side of the bed and held his hand out, palm up. A jar formed in his hand and Kelly let out a gasp in horror at what was inside it. It was Thor, but he had been turned into a frog. He was jumping at the glass, trying to escape.

‘If you aren’t careful, I will get you your very own jar.’ He snarled in warning. ‘No more stupid escape stunts. You do as you’re told. Do I make myself clear?’

Tears fell down Kelly’s face as she shook from head to toe. She nodded quickly, feeling a horrible stabbing feeling deep within her at the sight of Thor like that. Though she had thought he was dead too, with the others. Even though there had been no sign of his body.

Loki had the jar with frog Thor vanish, then he prowled onto the bed over the top of her and grinned. ‘Now, now. There’s no need to look so scared, pet.’ He cooed and stroked her cheek gently with the back of his hand. ‘If you’re my good girl, which I know you can be, you will have absolutely nothing to worry about ever again.’

He leaned down and stole a kiss from her lips.

[buckys-old-habits]

Line Without A Hook (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (platonic)

Summary: Spencer is a broken man and sometimes he needs help facing his demons and doubts. Is it all really worth it? 

Word Count: 1.9k 

Genre: Hurt / Comfort

Inspiration: Line Without A Hook by Ricky Montgomery

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“There never can be a man so lost as one who is lost in the vast and intricate corridors of his own lonely mind, where none may reach and none may save.”

― Isaac Asimov, Pebble in the Sky

Working for the FBI is a challenge, office hours are horrible and the world never sleeps in the sense of the bad it can produce. 

The BAU is a special department that is necessary, saving people, catching bad guys, and being all and all nearly invisible in the back. Delving deep into the twisted and poisoned thoughts of people, formed by death, trauma, and snapped minds. Getting to know the horrible truth of what a broken childhood or a rejected mind can make people push to do. 

Day in and day out, watching, analyzing, staring death and danger in the face, pureness getting swallowed by the darkness of the world. Emotions and people’s lives getting lost and twisted. Seeing the aftermath of a person tortured, mutilated, traumatized, killed in the worst sense. Dead inside but staying alive for the outside world. 

Happy endings get swallowed by the next bad case, paperwork making you all relieve the horror you will carry into your sleep and dreams. Making you lock your door twice as secure as normally, work sneaking itself into your daily life.  

This work does things to all the members of the BAU, things that they try to hide and don’t want to remember any time soon. 

Kidnappings, drug uses, bullet wounds, mental and physical torture, loss through unsubs, the nagging feeling of doing the right thing and still not saving everyone, the downfall of your psyche because you were too slow and finally the reality that the bad in the world won’t just go away. 

In the years you were a part of the BAU you saw and experienced a lot of loss and trauma, on yourself or your trusted friends. You saw people come and go, happy at the start and broken in the end, smiles replaced by frowns. 

Gideon, Elle, Emily, Strauss, Alex, Kate, Aaron, Derek, and many more left because the job got in the way and too much. Trauma and resignment making them change their view on life and considering another way. 

You understand them and wish them all the best in the world, a life away from all the terrors that plague the daily world. 

But one person isn’t leaving, is still suffering in silence and putting on a strong face. A boy forced by trauma to grow into a man, a man that went through so much, alone and broken. 

Dr. Spencer Reid is the textbook example of the way this job with the BAU can form and bend you. He suffered through kidnappings, forced drug use, bullet wounds, near-death experiences, loss of his lover, betrayal, prison, family issues and so much more.  And he never even said a word when the world was showing him its darkest side.  

People noticed and tried to help, but Spencer is a stubborn man, pushing his needs and emotions into the background and giving his all for others and the cases. His genius mind can’t handle the thought of burdening someone else with his problems. He rode himself into them, so he has to find a way out. 

Sadly you saw the downfall of that thinking a few times. The secretive drug use while everybody knew, him shutting down after Maeve’s death, the way he grew harder to face the terror of the world. 

The way the soft and sweet boy from the start was forced to hide under a strong and colder man to protect himself from the jobs’ impact on the psyche. 

It’s not unusual for Spencer to disappear after some cases, just touched down with the jet and he is off, his head filled with dark and confusing thoughts. You watch him every time he rushes off the plane, throwing tight-lipped smiles to your coworkers. 

These are the moments where you realize that the young boy inside him is breaking through, threatening to drown under the darkness he accumulated over the years. 

You say your goodbyes to the others and follow the man out of the building, trying to catch up to him. Being one of his best friends sadly grants you the knowledge of how deep his thoughts can spiral and the way he tries to sift through them by himself. 

The way he will self sabotage himself until he is broken and doesn’t see the good in himself anymore.  Breaking him out of that spiral is nearly impossible, but you can slow the fall if you coax him out of his mind, which is your goal for this day. Further help will come when he accepts it. 

It’s late in the afternoon, the sun slowly setting and dipping the world into some fiery oranges and reds, a stark contrast to the green under your feet. When Spencer spirals he hides away from the world, trying to find comfort in the calm and quiet. While that was his apartment once, it holds too much sorrow and other words now for his mind to form its own. 

A soft smile settles on your lips when you see the familiar tall figure slumped under a weeping willow, the irony of the name not passing you by. It would have been amusing if you didn’t know the depths the tree already saw coming from Spencer. The many tears and dark thoughts that flow all around the dark bark. 

The lake was a resort of calm for Spencer, becoming his new safe haven. Not many bad things happen here and it’s secluded enough to let his thoughts wander, allowing him to break apart under the green leaves and the protective shield of the hanging branches.  Maybe he specifically sought out this tree because of the name. It’s a place for him to weep and feel his emotions. 

Slowly, to not startle the man, you settle on the soft grass, keeping some distance between your folded legs. Spencer doesn’t deal well with touch and when his mind is occupied it's even more unwelcome. His body will reach out when it needs the comfort of another person. 

Calm and silence encase you, only the warm wind rustling through the heavy branches and the soft whispering of the water in the lake, reminding you of the life in nature. 

The first time you found Spencer here, through the help of an app on his phone, the calm stifled you and made you worry a lot more about his mental health.  But now you can see the way it is the opposite of the job, the cases, the horror, the darkness. 

Spencer shifts beside you, his leg nudging yours and you smile, keeping your eyes on the water. Many visits here made him realize he can open up to you, but he still feels like a burden, so you learned to wait. 

Wait for him to speak, to settle his thoughts, and open himself up to another person. Sometimes it only takes minutes, sometimes hours and sometimes the dark of the night will leave you with no words from him at all. 

Quietly you turn your hand so the grass tickles the back of it, opening yourself up for his touch. It takes a bit but then you feel the warmth of his fingers close around yours, hesitant and then stronger and nearly desperate.  You stroke his skin and he finally looks at you, mustering you with deep brown eyes, questions lingering just under the surface. 

Meeting his gaze, you stay quiet and wait, not breaking eye contact while he tries to sort his thoughts to convey them to you. Because this is the time he wants to share, share his doubts, his dreams, his ideas, and his desperations. 

“Is it worth it?”

It’s a whispered and choked question coming from him, his voice shaking at the end, making your heart clench in your chest. It’s a loaded question, one that would make or break him.  Squeezing his hand, you take a deep breath and settle your view back onto the lake.  To be honest, you asked yourself the same question a lot already. Every bad case lingers for days and the fact that you were too slow, too unknowing, too helpless, settles heavily on you. 

Could you have done more? Would the victim still be alive if you were just… better? Faster? More?  But this is what breaks you, makes you spiral, and lets you forget the light in life. The good side that challenges the dark. 

You look back at Spencer and meet his teary eyes, ready to spill the sorrow and pain he holds. 

“I don’t know, Spencer. I won’t lie to you. I don’t know if this job is worth the pain and suffering. But I know that the result will only be the same when you let it dictate you. I once thought that going would be the best course of action, just leave and let it behind you. All the death and blood and horror. But I can’t”, you laugh dryly, the thought heavy on your heart. 

“I can’t let the darkness win. I can’t just ignore the way that bad people will win when nobody is fighting for the light anymore. So no, it might not be worth it, but I can’t live with myself when I don’t try. I will lose myself when I let them win.”

You sigh, a deep and heavy sound, making you realize that you aren’t that black and white either. Not as deeply traumatized as Spencer, but still scarred by the job you handle.  It seems unavoidable when you stare at the darkest emotions and twisted minds daily. 

Spencer’s grip on your hand tightens and his knee settles heavily on yours, desperate for the warmth and the solidity that is your body, your presence. 

He is quiet, but you can hear his thoughts running around his brilliant mind, racing to catch his attention. Trying to process your words and applying the meaning to himself, adding to his own beliefs or changing it. 

Slowly you lift your hand and touch his cheek, wet with spilled tears, and he watches you, his whole attention on you.  You smile, amused by the fact how quickly you dust his mind with a touch. 

“Spencer, I would take it all. All the pain, if I could. But I can’t.”

He nods slowly, unknowingly leaning into your touch while you stroke his skin, wiping away the tears and wishing you could heal his broken soul. 

“What I can do is give you my promise. I promise you that I will be there to pull you from the depths of your mind. You don’t deserve the darkness that plagues you and I will do my best to make you realize that there is still so much light inside you.”

Spencer takes your hand from his cheek and pushes forward, crushing into your body and clutching onto you. Sobs wrack him and wet tears soak into your shoulder, all his emotions rushing out and leaving him a scared boy, the same one that saw his dad leave. 

With a heavy heart, you hold onto him, arms secure around him, shielding him and his vulnerability from the world. 

“There's a sorrow and pain in everyone's life, but every now and then there's a ray of light that melts the loneliness in your heart and brings comfort like hot soup and a soft bed.”

― Hubert Selby Jr., Requiem for a Dream

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Just Swimmingly ch.9 (BAON)

Summary:  The final chapter! Let's hope it lives up to the story name, shall we?

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

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Edge knew that he wouldn’t be able to carry Stretch for long. They were barely down the hallway to the stairs when warning twinges started up in his leg, and he could only ignore it for so long before he setback his own recovery. He resented that lingering weakness, hated that someone had stolen, albeit temporarily, his ability to physically take his willing husband to wherever he wished to put him. Hated that Stretch no longer flung himself at Edge from their front porch, trusting that he would be caught.

A return to that would come, he reminded himself. For now, he simply had to get Stretch to the car. He wasn’t about to let him walk downstairs with the delicate bones of his feet exposed to the floor of that filthy, junk-strewn warehouse anymore than they already had and perhaps Stretch realized that as well. His protests were brief and faded quickly.

“babe, no, your leg!” Stretch made a weak attempt at squirming loose, “i can walk!”

“You are in your bare feet,” Edge said shortly, “there is angel knows what foulness on this floor, and I am not letting you go.”

“guess i can’t argue that," Stretch sighed. "okay, captain. make it quick.”

“You’ve never said that before,” Edge murmured and Stretch let out a startled laugh that was always lovely to hear, but especially tonight. He really was all right if he could laugh like that, deep and sweet and loud.

So, Edge carried on down the stairs, past the melting remains of some kind of chemical foam, and Stretch didn’t struggle, a wise choice considering it would probably have sent them both tumbling down. He simply sighed and wrapped his slim arms around Edge’s neck, his skull resting lightly against his shoulder.

He was exhausted, Edge realized belatedly, already mentally berating himself. Of course he was, it was past the point of being late and going more into early, and the only sleep Stretch had had tonight was deliberately induced unconsciousness.

Better not to think about that. Seeing Stretch awake and hearing his laughter already relieved some of the raw, achy heat in his soul, there was no point in agitating it again. Surreptitiously, Edge ducked his head enough to breathed in the sweet scent of his husband’s magic, letting it further ease the dimming clamor of his LV demanding retribution. Much as he hated admitting when his brother was right, it would be best to let the Embassy security teams handle the kidnappers. Not that Edge wouldn’t be intently watching the results, but Edge knew himself well enough that he couldn’t promise not to react with violence if he saw any of them in person.

They’d stolen from him. Not a possession, no, love was not something to be owned, but it could be given, along with his soul, and Edge had given his to the very person they’d tried to use as a mere tool to be bartered with and after, they would have surely discarded him as nothing more than a useless object, a means to an end.

There was only one punishment suitable for that and Edge did not trust himself not to mete it out.

Outside, the night air was cool, refreshing after the dusty warehouse, and there was a new vehicle amidst the Embassy cars. An ambulance, the lights swirling silently atop, and the back doors were open with a stretcher already on the pavement. When the attendants saw them, they started forward, and in his arms, Stretch tensed, shifting as if to crawl up and over him in a wild attempt at escape.

“no,” Stretch said shortly. “no, no, no, don’t let the damsel in distress pose fool you, i am fine. all i need is a stiff drink and some zzz’s, this is me not consenting to any medical treatment.”

“Love—” Edge began. Stretch swung around to look at him, the pale glare of his eye lights accusing, and he backtracked, choosing his words carefully, “You were drugged. Perhaps it would be best if you were checked out.”

That suggestion was met with fierce scorn as Stretch scoffed, "yeah, i was drugged and now i am wide awake. i can tell you my name, my address, and my shoe size, and whoever tries to get me into the back of that wah-wah-mobile is gonna know it, too, when i shove my foot up their ass.”

“kinky.” Edge whirled to see his brother’s smirking face as he strolled towards them. “wellie, well, well, went fishin’ and got a hellava catch, eh, boss?”

In his arms, Stretch stiffened so briefly, he might have imagined it. He blinked rapidly, once, twice, as if to clear his vision, then relaxed again, settling on a wheedle in Red’s direction, “fishing jokes are so cliché, cooking is better. i’m the best cupcake in the bakery, so let him wrap me up and take me home. come on, tell them i’m fine.”

Red scratched the back of his skull lazily, “dunno, honeybun, might need a tune-up and an oil change—”

“quit switching the metaphors!” Stretch let go of Edge long enough to flip a middle finger at him.

Red snorted, amused, “yeah, yeah, he can take you home. if,” Red stressed, “you take a mo’ to strip off the new gear those assholes gave you.”

“aw, gee, red,” Stretch batted a pair of imaginary eyelashes, “you’ve never asked me to strip before. i’m not even wearing a g-string, where will you stuff the dollars?”

“cute,” Red’s grin widened in a way that made Edge want to carry his husband far away. The way he bared his teeth venturing into the realm of amused cruelty, and the flick of his tongue absurdly lascivious, “it’s evidence and we need it. if you’d rather change up at the bone factory, bet the docs could take a chance to check you out—”

“no!” Stretch yelped, “no, no, fine. you have something for me to change into?”

“yep.” And Red pointed to the back of the ambulance. “in there.”

Stretch rolled his eye lights. “wow,” he said dryly, “that trap isn’t even subtle. you want i should strap myself into the stretcher, too? check my vitals, start an iv?”

“it’s the only place to change, so either trust that we’ll do a catch and release, or…” Red trailed off meaningfully.

Stretch heaved a sigh and started squirming in Edge’s arms, wincing at the gravel as he was carefully set on the pavement. “back to fishing, huh? fine, fine. but if it drives off in the hospital way when i climb in the back, I’m shortcutting at the first stoplight and then we can play tag across town.”

“I won’t let them take you anywhere you don’t want to go, love.” Edge signed a little ‘x’ over his chest. Stretch’s scrutinizing look shifted to a soft smile and even though he would have preferred a doctor checking him over, Edge wouldn’t do anything to break the trust shining in his eye lights, not for anything in the world.

“okay, babe,” Stretch said, “give me five.”

He climbed into the ambulance, pulling the rear doors shut behind him. After a few minutes of the vehicle shaking and muffled swearing coming through the door, Stretch remerged. The clothes weren’t his own, but they fit, soft pants and a neon-bright sweatshirt that Stretch could have chosen himself, a far contrast to the cheap, bland clothes their kidnappers forced on them. Edge suspected his brother’s hand in it and wondered with some resignation if Red sent someone to purchase them tonight or if he simply kept spare clothes for them all in the dingy hole in the Embassy basement that passed as his office, for just such an occasion.

Probably the latter, Red was never one who minded delegating, but some things required a personal touch.

With visible distaste, Stretch handed over a large brown paper sack to Red. “take ‘em,” he said flatly. “burn them, whatever. i never want to see them again.”

“fair enough,” Red handed the bag off to one of the Embassy security who was standing close by with a muttered order. “all right, newly engaged goes next.”

Their Human friends were standing close by, both silently watching the entertainment, which was fair after the recent show upstairs. With the spotlight turned his way, Jeff hastily nodded and Antwan carefully set him on his feet, his hands lingering and reluctant to let him go.

“You two can head on home,” Antwan said, “We’re taking one of the Embassy cars.”

“yeah, okay, sounds good.” But Stretch didn’t return to Edge. He went to Jeff, leaning down to pull him into a tight hug that was fiercely returned. “hey, we made it, and you even got a special prize to top it off. congrats, bro,” Stretch told him.

It was charming the way Jeff’s cheeks went visibly pink even in the harsh overhead lights of the parking lot, but if this horrible night could end for him on a smile, Edge thought it fitting. No one said a word until the friends ended their embrace, Jeff heading into the ambulance to change and Stretch returning to Edge’s side, if not his arms.

“hey, honey bun.” Stretch paused, giving Red a questioning look, “i’ll have your cell phone back to you tomorrow.”

His face twitched but Stretch only nodded. He turned in a circle, his gaze searching, until it landed on Edge’s car parked on the far side of the lot. He started towards it and as slippers were included with his new wardrobe, Edge reluctantly allowed Stretch to walk on his own towards it.

Before he’d taken two steps, a small voice came from behind them. “Can I ride back with you two?”

Alone on the crumbling pavement, Blue stood there, his hands twisting together and his starry eye lights hesitant and hopeful. For the second time that night Edge cringed inwardly at not thinking of him.

“sure, bro,” Stretch said immediately. His eye lights flicked briefly to Edge to confirm, surprising him.

Of course he could come with them, why wouldn’t he…they needed to invite Blue over more often, Edge decided abruptly. They saw him often on movie nights and group events, and he knew that the Swap brothers had lunch together once a week, but he should spend more time with his brother, and with Edge.

Once, they’d been decently good friends, before his relationship with Stretch subtly cooled things between them. They could be friends again, better friends, if only one of them took the first step. Interesting how traumatic events could be a hell of an incentive.

“Of course,” Edge told him, and tried not to notice the sudden gratitude that filled Stretch’s face. He dug into his pocket for his keys and tossed them to Blue, who caught them with a jangle. “In fact, I’d prefer if you’d drive.”

Blue brightened visibly at the show of trust, darting over to the car. He held open the door as Stretch crawled into the back and didn’t so much as raise an eyebrow when Edge followed him.

“home, jeeves,” Stretch said. The last word broke on a deep yawn and he shifted to sprawl across the backseat, his skull in Edge’s lap.

“Seatbelt,” Edge chided.

“you put it on me,” Stretch grumbled. He didn’t move as Edge did, only settled in more comfortably once the belt was across him. He was asleep before they’d even left the parking lot, without so much as an ounce of deception in his long, slow breaths.

Cautiously, Edge settled his bare hands on him, choosing where to settle them with some care, one hand on his clothed side and the other on his skull with more palm than fingers. He wished for a pair of his gloves to keep the sharpened tips safely concealed. Earlier, he’d wanted his hands exposed and ready to be used, and now in the aftermath, he wanted them tucked away again, the same as he’d learned to conceal his other, more Underfell-ian tendencies. Only bringing them out when they were useful, like a set of heirloom dishes, then hiding them at the back of the hutch again to gather dust.

(don’t think of it that way, do not)

He resisted the urge to clench his hands, closed his sockets and tried to concentrate on the feel of warm bone under his bare hand. Stretch often carried spare gloves for him in his bag, never questioning Edge’s preference, never mocked or teased; he didn’t just accept that quirk, he embraced it and tried to help. If he were awake, he would have been pleased at the bare-handed touch, he would understand the significance of it and Edge focused on that.

It helped soothe some of his agitation and when Edge opened his sockets again, he was surprised to see the Embassy gates already looming ahead. “Drop us off, you can take my car home tonight.”

Blue nodded silently, his gaze focused intently on the road. There wasn’t even a teasing, if pointed, joke about Edge letting his car out of his sight. The car didn’t matter, all that was important was in his arms right now.

He pulled into their driveway and Blue held the door again as Edge carefully lifted Stretch into his arms. He paused long enough for Blue to press a gentle kiss to his brother’s skull, murmuring something Edge did not hear, then carried him inside as the car pulled out of the drive behind him. He hoped Papyrus was home, surely he was, and that he would know that Blue could use some friendly companionship after this night.

He would know, Edge decided firmly. This was Papyrus he was thinking of and it was likely he already had a pot of strong tea and some very interesting cookies ready to share, along with a blanket and some Mettaton reruns. Blue would be fine for tonight and tomorrow he could come over again, after they’d all had some necessary sleep.

He carried Stretch inside and settled him on the sofa. Upstairs would have been better, but he needed a moment for his leg to recover before taking him any further. Not that Stretch noticed, he only slept on, sleepily burrowing into the blanket Edge draped carefully over him.

Indecision seized Edge then. There were things that needed to be done, but leaving Stretch here alone made uneasiness stir in his soul. In the end, he checked the door and window locks to make sure they were secured and that their alarm system was on before he reluctantly went upstairs to run a bath and lay out pajamas. It would be testing Stretch’s ability to sleep through anything, but those Humans had touched him, laid their filthy hands on him. A quick wash would go a long way for both of them to get some decent rest.

He waited for the tub to fill with foamy bubbles, the unsubtle floral scent of lavender filling the room, before heading back downstairs. He halted on the landing, his soul seizing in his chest, to see that the sofa was empty, the blanket thrown carelessly back.

Edge closed his sockets and took a long, deep breath, settling his rattled nerves. Yes, Stretch was missing again, but this time, he suspected he knew exactly where he’d gone.

The sliding glass door was now unlocked, and Edge opened it to step out into the backyard. Dewy grass clung to his shoes as he walked and the horizon was overflowing with purples and pinks and deep orange, heralding the arrival of the sun.

The fence was standing open, confirming his suspicions, and Edge opened the coop door to find Stretch sitting on the floor, heedless of its less than sterile state. Nugget was in his lap, magnanimous surrendering her a scritches to her small, adopted duckling that was curled up on Stretch’s knee, mumbling out sleepy little quacks as it was gently stroked.

Stretch didn’t look up. “hey, babe,” he mumbled.

Edge sank down to sit next to them, pressing their sides together from shoulder to hip. “You could have warned me,” Edge said.

It was lightly said, but Stretch flinched, shifting to rest his head on Edge’s shoulder. “sorry, wasn’t thinking.”

“I’d say you’re still not,” Edge agreed. “are you even awake?”

“prolly not.”

They sat together in the dimly lit coop, the silence broken only by the faint sleeping rumbles from the chickens. Neither of them were prepared for Cheese to stir, going from sleeping to wide awake in an instant the moment they noticed the open door. With a riot of happy peeps, they hopped from Stretch’s knee, dodging Edge’s grab as they ran outside to plunge into the new pond, swimming circles in the clear water.

They followed them out, “No, not right now,” Edge began, preparing to wade in if necessary to secure their tiniest poultry companion.

“eh, let ‘em play," Stretch yawned. He sank down on the walkway they’d finished only the day before. “let them have some fun. may as well, i'm really tired, but i dunno if i can sleep yet."

Edge nodded and settled next to him again. The brickwork was hard beneath his tailbone and he made a mental note to have a bench of some sort installed. He should have thought of it before, Stretch enjoyed watching his pets, and both the patio and the porch swing were too far away for proper observation. Rather than allow Stretch to sit on the stones, he pulled his love into his lap, holding him close without impeding his view. "We can wait until you're ready."

"gonna have nightmares,” Stretch said abruptly. His voice was smaller and knowingly weary. "i was scared, you know, but andy was there, and he was scareder. his face was," Stretch gestured at his own face and shook his head. "i couldn't let him get hurt. i couldn’t."

It ached to hear that soft confession, though he’d known Stretch must have been frightened. He pushed the image of Stretch waking up terrified and surrounded by enemies out of his mind, saying firmly, "You didn't, you protected him."

"he wouldn't need protecting if he'd stayed in his seat on that bus all those months back,” Stretch said sourly and that was a notion that couldn’t wait for his therapist to address.

"Don't,” Edge told him softly, “Don't take on blame that isn't yours, you don’t deserve to carry their guilt."

"heh, yeah. you're one to talk."

“I know. So you can believe I know what I’m talking about.”

“don’t worry, babe, i know something about carrying guilt that ain’t yours, too.” Before Edge could question that, Stretch sighed heavily, confessing, "i knew one of the guys."

That was a chilling admission. "You did."

"yeah, he used to work at classic books,” Stretch said. He shifted in Edge’s arms, unconsciously pushing in closer. “had an issue with monsters, but i didn't think anything of it. lots of humans do. he never said anything out loud that i ever heard. last i knew, thomas said he quit. thomas was happier for it, he was about to fire the guy, anyway, him quitting made his life easier."

“Does my brother know this?”

“if he didn’t before, pretty sure he already does now, but i’ll tell him during my little interview tomorrow.” In his arms, Stretch shivered, bones briefly rattling. “when i saw him, saw into his—” Stretch stopped abruptly, “anyway. he’s not a nice guy, babe. not at all.”

“I see,” Edge said, slowly. There were depths in that obvious diverting should be explored, questions to ask, but that could wait for tomorrow. “Let’s go inside and get cleaned up, all right?”

“yeah, okay.” Stretch crawled out of his arms to the side of the pond and rather than fruitlessly chasing Cheese, he held out a hand. It took hardly more than a touch of blue magic to pull the little duckling close, their pitiful quacks as they were once more robbed of their watery freedom filling the air. “yeah, i know,” Stretch soothed, “tomorrow, okay? i’ll let you swim ‘till you’re sick of it, kiddo.”

He returned the duckling to Nugget, who unsympathetically tucked the peeping duckling beneath her, and when Stretch turned back to Edge, his gaze sharpened suddenly as he watched Edge climb to his feet. “where’s your cane?”

“I was getting it as we speak.”

“uh huh, from inside the house, it’s so useful in there. you,” Stretch jabbed a slender finger at him, “you’re going to use it all day tomorrow, right? no bitching, either.”

Edge didn’t bother pointing out that it was highly likely he wouldn’t be doing much walking at all tomorrow, certainly not out of their home. Tomorrow would be full of questioning and paperwork, so many things that would need to be done. But first, they needed to finish off the night before dawn took it.

“Of course,” he agreed. He allowed Stretch to pull an arm over his shoulders, ostensibly to help him inside, but it wasn’t his leg that needed Stretch’s assistance.

His soul pulsed in his chest softly, settling at the feel of Stretch close to him, leading them both into their house, and when they finally slept that night, it was on the sofa rather than their bed, both of them freshly washed and with a cooking show playing softly in the background.

Lying together, Edge was acting the part of smaller spoon to Stretch’s larger one, and if Stretch guessed the position was one that put Edge closer to the door, he didn’t say. His face was buried into the back of Edge’s neck, his breath damp and even. Edge drifted on the borders of sleep, listening more to that quiet breathing than whatever the chef on the screen was saying.

“I can’t lose you.” The words escaped him, said to no one at all, less a statement and more a vow, a promise offered in the early morning light. I can’t, he thought to himself as he drifted, barely hearing the sleepy murmur in return.

“you won’t, babe. ’m not goin’ anywhere.”

Soothed, Edge let sleep claim him, trusting that he was safely caught up in the embrace of both slumber and his love.

-finis

[jj-bxby]

take a chance ~ jj maybank imagine

prompt request ~ angst ~ 1) you can’t do this, you owe me 2) how much did you drink? 3) i don’t need your pity

summary - you meet the boy of your dreams at a party, but your parents disapprove of your relationship. what happens when a phone call from them sends you into self destruct mode?

word count - 1.9k

trigger warnings ~ swearing, drinking/smoking, verbal ab*se from family member, happy ending

Kooks loved parties. Or, at least you were supposed to. 

For whatever reason, the thoughts of the crowded house and cheap booze never was appealing to you, no matter how many times you pushed yourself into the scene. Eventually, you resigned from the parties at frats and packed mansions within Figure Eight, opting instead for the ones thrown on The Cut. The Boneyard made the perfect spot for summer parties, logs acting as benches, fires to keep warm, and no police caring enough to show up to kill the vibe. And of course, that was how you ended up meeting him. The boy with the sea glass-blue eyes, wavy blonde locks, and salty lips. He was the one who had found you resting in the sand with music playing softly from your little speaker as your eyes closed. You were a good distance away from your Kook friends and the rest of the party. He’d tapped your leg with the toe of his sneaker, giggling as you glared at him.

“Not much of a partier, aye?”

You sat up, annoyed. “No, I’m not. I’m not one much for having my quiet time interrupted, either.” 

He sank to your level, sitting in the sand with his arm thrown over one knee with a joint in his hand. He twirled it for a few seconds before looking up to see you staring at him, a scowl having settled across your mouth. He laughed to himself as he looked in your eyes. “Well, I’m sorry about that. But do you mind if I lay here for a bit too? I’m I bit too faded to deal with anyone else right now.”

You thought for a second, before nodding slowly. “Alright, you can stay. On one condition, though. You share the weed.” JJ raised his brow at you. “I don’t like the taste of booze and I’m too jittery to calm myself down right now.”

“Alright. Say, your name is Y/N, right?” He asked as you took a drag of the blunt he’d just handed over. You nodded. “I’m JJ.”

You laughed a little bit. “You think I don’t know who you are? Really?” 

He grinned, the dimple on one of his cheeks showing. “Ah, I figured. I just thought it would be a better story to tell people when they ask how we got together if I introduced myself first.” You rolled your eyes, taking another puff from the joint before laying back down against the sand. You tilted your head to look at him, watching as he turned up the volume on the speaker before following your actions, his head turned to meet your eyes. 

“So I didn’t hear you disagree with me. About getting together eventually?” he smirked. 

You sighed at him. “Maybe because I’d be dumb not to take a chance.”

JJ arched his eyebrows and let out a heavy breath, clearly thrown by your candor. “I don’t know that I’d be a good boyfriend to you. At least not the kind of good you’d deserve.”

You shrugged, “Me neither.” You were smiling as you turned your face back to the sky and closed your eyes. Your fingertips eventually finding their way to each other, twining your fingers with JJ’s as you were wrapped in the starlight and music.

After that night, the two of you had hardly been seen apart for the coming months. The relationship had blossomed quickly. Both of you had eventually moved into John B’s house to get away from your families, as your parents were none too happy that you were dating a Pogue. To your family, JJ was nothing but a throwaway delinquent. 

“Why couldn’t you have stayed together with Kelce? Or go out with one of Sarah’s friends? Why did you have to pick the addict’s klepto kid?”

After that screaming match, you had shown up at John B’s in tears. He took you in without hesitation; since meeting him you two had formed something of a sibling bond. You had only gone back to your house once to grab your belongings with the Pogues escorting you. JJ never went back to his dad’s house. He always kept clothes in his knapsack, and he practically had an entire closet already set up at the chateau. There was no need to keep in touch with your families when you had each other.

Tonight was another one of the usual Pogue parties, them having taken hours to grab all of the kegs, cups, and matches they’d need for the night. Even though your boyfriend had invited you to come, you decided to stay in for the night. After he promised not to stay too late, you settled in with your Switch and some extra cozy blankets. 

After hours of doing side quests and avoiding the Greybeards, you heard your phone ring. Grabbing it, you see the Caller ID. It was the one you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to block yet.

Dad.

Your hands shook as you swiped on the green circle, and you raised the phone to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hi, Y/N.”

You took a deep breath. “Why are you calling me? I thought you didn’t want a daughter who chose a Pogue?”

“I’m calling to tell you that you need to come home. You’re fucking up your entire life for some boy that won’t even care about you once the lust fades. I’m saying this because I love you, Y/N. You’re my daughter, and I want what’s best for you.” You felt a small boil of rage in the pit of your stomach as you listened to his words. His tone was the same one he’d used back when you were living at home. It was the tone of honey-sweet words that dripped with threatening undertones, the one he’d use to get you to do whatever he wanted. What he wanted was to make himself look good to outsiders; Nothing he asked of you was for your happiness. 

“You don’t care about what’s right for me, dad, and you never did. If you did, you would accept me being with JJ, but you don’t. You don’t want me to be with him because you’re so goddamned worried about what the other families will think of you. I can’t believe you had the audacity to say you love me.” You felt hot tears slip from your eyes as you spoke and choked back the sobs trying to escape your throat.

“Listen, bitch. You’re lucky you’re eighteen, otherwise, I would have had you dragged back to the house the moment you left. You are the one who wrecked our family. You ruined my life, too, and I wish I would have left as soon as you were born, Y/N. This is all your fault. The locks are being changed tomorrow, got it? So don’t step a foot on my property, because you will be treated as a trespasser and you will be arrested. If you don’t come back tonight, you won’t have anyone who loves you anymore.” 

“Fine. Don’t fucking call me again, bastard,” you spat as you hung up. You ran a hand through your hair while you let the sobs shake your body, letting all of your previously trapped emotions out. After a good forty-five minutes of nothing but crying, you had finally worn yourself out and slipped into sleep. 

JJ walked into the Chateau as quietly as he could, only to find you asleep on the couch. He grinned as he walked over to where you were lying, moved your Switch and phone so they wouldn’t fall when you got up, and gently woke you. “Hey, baby.”

You groaned as you woke up, looking at the clock that read 3 am. “JJ, I thought you said you weren’t going to stay out late? And why do you smell like a distillery? How fucking much did you drink?” You were angry, and you were standing up now, face to face with your boyfriend. You felt the simmer in your stomach again, left over from earlier. 

You’re not gonna have anyone who loves you.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I just lost track of time. I tried to text you to tell you I was going to be late, but it wouldn’t send. And I only had one beer, I’m not even buzzed.” He looked at you with a grimace on his face. “What is going on with you?” He could just see the exhaustion rimming your eyes and the tear stains on your cheeks. “Are you okay, love? You look like you do when you’ve been crying.”

You shook your head, still furious from your conversation earlier. “No, I’m not okay. My dad called tonight to tell me I ruined his life and the family, and that no one will love me, including you,” you said bitterly. JJ reached to grab your hand as he opened his mouth to speak. 

You pushed him away. “No. I don’t need your pity, JJ.” You turned on your heel to walk to your bedroom. “I needed you, and you weren’t here. You can’t do this, you fucking owed me that, JJ.” You knew you were being irrational, but you couldn’t help it. You were so hurt that you just wanted to hurt everyone around you.

He caught hold of your arm to turn you around with ease. You crossed your arms and glared daggers at the boy standing in front of you. “Y/N,” JJ sighed, “you’ve gotta meet me halfway here so I can help you. Stop fighting with me when I’m not the one you’re angry with. I know this sucks, and it hurts like hell, but you can’t just push me away. It doesn’t work like that when I’m here to stay. So tell me what’s actually going on.”

JJ watched you as the harsh expression decorating your face softened and tears welled in your eyes. “He said–he said that you would get bored of me. That you would only want me for a little while before the fascination faded,” you croaked. You let him wrap his arms around you, and rested your head against his chest. The hug was so warm and comforting, something you had never received from your family. After a minute of him holding you and murmuring comforting things, he pulled back so he could look you in the eyes.

“Baby, I hope you realize that I’m not going anywhere. I’m with you for the rest of time. And as long as I’m here with you, I’m not going to back down when you try to build those walls, okay? You’re the love of my life that I never thought I would find. It’s not something as little as lust, Y/N,” JJ promised you. “I’d be dumb not to take a chance on you, remember?”

JJ tilted his head to rest your foreheads together. “I’m sorry I was being so horrible to you, J. You’re more than I could have ever asked for, and I love you so incredibly much,” you whispered. JJ pressed a soft kiss to your lips, as he wiped a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

“Apology accepted, baby. No more trying to hurt each other just because we’re hurting, though, okay?” You nodded to him, a small smile taking its place on your lips. “Good. Let’s go get some rest now, huh?”

tags and moots ~ @jjsredhat @jjsbxtch @jjmayybank @pink-meringues @midnightmagicmusingsmain @maybanksbaby @kookkyra @aesthetic-lyss @soemthingsparkly @softstarkey @shawnssongs @drewswannabegirl @starlightstarkey @starksweasleymain @joshy-obx @jjmaybnks @obxjj @hmspxgue @uwubonebabie @jiaraendgame @poguestyle17 @topperthornton @obx-direction-sos

[whats-wild-to-you]

Stolen Heart - Part 3

Min-ji’s P.O.V

“Give this to whoever’s in charge.” I say as I place a resignation letter on Pumkin’s desk. “And do me a favor, don’t tell Loco.”

After my conversation with Loco last night I know exactly what to do. I’m not letting Loco take the fall. Not for a mistake Jay made, and one I helped cover up.

Three months later

Today’s Friday. My last day at AOMG. Besides the personnel staff and Pumkin I don’t know who else knows. I’m sure Jay knows, maybe Simon too.

I’ve been tense all day, afraid someone will come round the corner with a cake, wanting to throw me a farewell party.

Pumkin kept his promise, Loco has no idea I’m leaving the company.

It’s for the better, I tell myself. I don’t want him to jeopardize his career.

On Monday Loco wakes up early, heading to the studio.

“I’ll see you later at work!” He whispers, leans down and places a gentle kiss on my lips.

Ugh! Why can’t I just tell him the truth?

Loco’s P.O.V

I head down to the basement, determined to record my part in Hoody’s new song quickly and then head back up and wait for my girl. Dating someone from the company definitely has its perks. I get to see my girl a lot.

An hour later I head back up, making my way through the hallways, straight towards Min-ji’s small office.

But when I arrive there, it’s cleared out.

That’s weird.

“Simon? Do you know what happened to Min-ji’s office?” I ask hyung and for a moment he looks dumbfounded.

“We’re expanding her office!” He eventually says.

He looks busy so I leave him to his work and decide to wait outside for Min-ji.

Min-ji’s P.O.V

I lay on the couch, watching tv, when my phone alerts me of a new message:

Loco went to your office, saw that it was empty and came to me. I said to him we’re remodeling.

I sigh and reply right away:

Well done.

I put my phone away but it lights up again:

No! Very soon he will discover the truth. The only reason he hasn’t yet, is because Jay isn’t at the company these days.

I sigh again:

I will tell him.

I put the phone away and close my eyes. I don’t know why I’m hesitating, but I know that when I tell Loco he won’t be happy.

Soon I receive another text. “What is it now, Simon?” I yell out into an empty apartment.

But this new message is from Loco:

Did you go back to sleep? I’m waiting at the company for you!

Shit!

“Shit!”

I quickly text back:

I’m not feeling very well. Could you let them know?

I feel horrible lying to my boyfriend and even more so when I get his answer back:

Don’t worry. Go back to sleep, I’ll come over with soup.

Jay’s P.O.V

I walk by Min-ji’s office and see that it’s still empty. I find Simon wandering the halls and ask him about it. “I don’t know, ask Pumkin.”

So I head over to Pumkin’s office, yelling even before I reach the door.

“You still haven’t found a replacement for Min-ji?” I stop dead in my tracks when I see who’s in the office with him.

Loco’s P.O.V

“You fired her?”

“She resigned!” He hisses at me, making it sound like it’s my fault.

“I don’t believe you! You’re the jealous type. You fired her, because you can’t have her!”

“Loco, please calm down!” I hear Pumkin say, my anger spilling over.

“Do you really think that? I could go to her right now, and she would break up with you by tomorrow!”

“Jay…” He can’t get through to Jay either. We’re both standing away inches from each other, heavily breathing.

“You’ve gone too far. I’m done here!”

I leave without a word, heading straight to Min-ji’s place.

She looks genuinely surprised when she opens the door.

“Why didn’t you tell me you quit?”

“You found out?”

“Min-ji!”

“Sit.” Her calm demeanor scares me. Ten minutes ago I was determined to get answers, but now I’m afraid of what my girlfriend might tell me.

“I resigned because I noticed that your relationship with Jay was suffering and I thought if I left the company it would improve.”

“Bullshit!”

“Babe…”

“I told you he likes you, I-”

“And I told you that the kiss meant nothing to me!” She's now yelling at me.

“So, why did you have to resign then?”

“Because you punched your boss, you jeopardized your career. If I had stayed you two would go at each other’s throats. I left because I care about you, because I want you to be happy.”

“Except I’m not happy. If you’re not there, I don’t want to be a part of AOMG either!”

I leave right away. Min-Ji offers to cook for us, but I don’t have an appetite. What I need is to talk to someone, get some things off my chest, hear that I’m not crazy for doing this.

“You what? Loco, no!”

“I’ve already made up my mind. Jay definitely went too far this time.”

“Let me talk to him, please. Before you do anything, let me talk to him.”

Gray was a great friend to me, empathetic, understanding, wise. But he’s one of Jay’s oldest friends in the company. If it comes down to picking sides, I have no doubt Gray will side with Jay.

“I’m going to terminate my contract on Monday. You have until then.”

While walking to my car my phone vibrates in my pocket. The text is from Min-ji:

Have you calmed down?

As soon as I’m inside my car I type in my reply:

I talked to Gray. He wants to talk to Jaebeom. I’ve given him time until Monday. That’s when I’m terminating my contract.

Min-ji doesn’t text back after that. Mentally exhausted, I head home.

***

next ->

[dessarious]

Misconceptions, Miscommunication, and Misinformation Pt90

Inspired by @ozmav Maribat AU

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As Damian walked to Chloe’s suite his scowl sent multiple employees in the opposite direction. The text Chloe had sent him late last night had put him in a far worse mood than usual. He’d spent the morning yelling at everyone he could think of for not warning him Selina might be showing up in Paris before his father. He’d come to the hotel to warn the woman to stay away from Marinette and her family. Chloe he figured could handle herself. Selina either wasn’t in her room or was ignoring him so now he had to bother Chloe to let him in the room. He knocked on the door. Then did it louder when she took too long to answer. He was about to knock a third time when the door was jerked open by his father’s very annoyed looking fiance.

“Will you keep it down, you’ll wake them.” He was too stunned to answer at first, but his mouth recovered quickly.

“I’m not going to be quiet just so you can clean Chloe out. The girl may be obnoxious but you’re my responsibility until Father gets here to keep you in line.” He cringed internally as soon as he said it but remained completely stoic on the outside. He always overreacted when he had to deal with her but there was no way he would back down now.

“I’m perfectly capable of being responsible for myself and I would be insulted that you’d think I would steal from a teenager but you’ve always seen far more deficiencies in me than I actually have. If you don’t believe me though, you can always ask him.” She pointed to the side and he saw Digg in a chair, reading. The Kwami didn’t even bother looking up. Instead of talking he turned and went to Chloe’s bedroom door.

“Damn it Damian. I told you they’re sleeping, leave them alone.” He rolled his eyes but did pause long enough to respond.

“Marinette won’t wake for anything less than an airhorn and I’m more than willing to risk Chloe’s temper to make sure you’re supposed to be here.” He stopped when he jerked the door open though. The girls were indeed sleeping but they both looked horrible. It was obvious Chloe had been crying and he was honestly a little afraid she’d kill him if she knew he’d seen her in such a state. Marinette looked incredibly pale and… small. He tended to forget just how little she was when she was awake because of her personality but asleep… she looked weak and frail and he did not like that. Plagg and Tikki looked up at him from their position on the girl’s pillow and Damian just gave them a nod before he slowly shut the door.

“Just because you want to see the worst in me doesn’t mean everything out of my mouth is a lie.” Damian just rolled his eyes before turning to Digg.

“Make sure you keep an eye on her.” The Kwami just grunted at him. Selina pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a sigh. It sounded resigned.

“Damian, come out to the balcony so we can talk.”

“Absolutely not. I don’t have anything to say to you.” He was not about to listen to another lecture on his behavior, let alone one from her.

“Please. We need to find a way to at least be civil with each other for your father’s sake.” He opened his mouth to tell her that hell would freeze over before that would happen but paused as Luka’s face flashed through his mind with a disapproving frown. After his outburst at the bakery, Luka had asked him about what was going on. No matter how Damian explained it the other boy still seemed to think he needed to be the one to change his mind. At the same time, Selina had never really asked to talk to him before either. They’d just traded barbs and went their separate ways. As much as he hated the idea of compromise it couldn’t hurt to just listen and tell her how ridiculous it was.

“Fine. You can talk but I doubt it’ll help.” He went to the balcony without waiting for her and just leaned on the railing. She followed a minute later but didn’t speak right away.

“We’ve never actually talked about why you have such an issue with me.” He shot her a bland look.

“Because it’s obvious.”

“Maybe, maybe not. I’d still like to hear you say it.” This was pointless. But if he left now chances were his father and/or brothers would corner him later and that would be even worse.

“You’re a thief for starters.”

“And you were an assassin. People change Damian. I haven’t stolen anything that wasn’t necessary for a mission in over a year.” He wanted to argue with that, but he couldn’t come up with anything. He’d even been tracking robberies to see if anything looked like her and come up empty.

“It’s not the same thing. I didn’t know any better.” She let out an annoyed huff.

“And you think I did in the beginning? Unlike you no one was there to pull me out of that mindset. Once I was on my own I only stole from people who could afford it. When it’s the only life you know, the only skillset you have, it takes a lot to make you change. It takes a lot to make you want to change.”

“Then why now? You and Father have been going back and forth for longer than I’ve been in the picture, what’s so different now?” She frowned at him.

“You’re kidding right?” He just shook his head and she was looking at him like he was insane. “Damian, you almost died when you and Bruce came to pull me out of that situation in Rome and that would have been my fault. I realized two things. Bruce was actually serious about wanting to marry me this time, and I would jump off Wayne Tower before I let him endanger one of you for my safety again.” That… was not what he expected. He’d been so angry with his father for going in the first place and he’d still been arguing when the guard came up behind and shot him. He’d almost died because he was more focused on telling his father why he shouldn’t be dating Selina than doing his job.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Damian didn’t know which of them was more surprised that those words left his mouth.

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[soriseerakyra]

Flight of Fancy -6- (Black! Reader)

“I thought you said that you were going on a date,” Ari says with a slightly scrunched up nose.

“I’m his date,” You correct the smoothing the bodice of your cream-colored dress. You had to admit, you looked better than you thought you would when you saw the thing on the rack. The garment seemed to fit you like a glove, its mermaid shape accentuating your curves. “But you're invited because it's a party.”

“Seems like a cop-out to me,” Ari says with a teasing tone. You can see the younger girls rusting through her closet, looking for a dress that wouldn’t scare Bruce’s guests too much. “But a party is a party.”

“I don’t think it’s the type of party that you’re thinking it is,” you slightly sheepishly watch Ari's reaction through the mirror. “There will be lots of his friends there, sure, but I think there… I don’t know like this…”

Ari cranes her head over her shoulder just in time to find you crooking your pinky in the air, making a mock fancy motion.

“Aw shit, Pea, what the hell did you invite me to? Bridge with the oatmeal gang?”

“It’s not like I could go by myself,” You defend hands on your hips and slight pout coming across your lips. “I stick out like a sore thumb.”

A part of you didn’t want to say it out loud and you hadn’t wanted to make Bruce feel bad, but when he had first broached the idea about having a party, you had initially wanted to turn him down. You had been to those kinds of things as Kenya’s guest plenty of times, and most of those spaces had been overwhelmingly white. If Kenya wasn’t running everything and hadn't had the confidence of a queen you probably have felt extremely uncomfortable. But you had left that confident woman behind, and you would’ve been alone if you hadn’t invited your closest friends. At least now if someone gives you a dirty look or if it's boring, or worse, Bruce is feeding you to the wolves, you would have your back up there. Still, you kind of wished you could have invited Kenya to this thing, another pair of eyes watching your back wouldn’t have been a bad thing at all.

“I’m sure he gets down in some way,” Jo-Jo comments while popping a cookie in her mouth and scrolling on her phone. You were glad that she had chosen an edible instead of her usual pre-game blunt. You were sure this was the type of party that you didn’t want to smell like smoke at. “You don’t get to be called a playboy because you throw boring parties.”

“I’m just wondering if there is going to be dancing and if so, is anyone besides us going to be on beat,” Ari comments with a sly smirk as she slips a form-fitting shimmery silver gown over her head.

“Ari!” You scold but have to fight to keep the small smile from curling over your lips

They always had a way of making you feel a little better when you were overly nervous.

You cast a stray glance at yourself in the mirror, as you fix your earring in place. If you tried your best, maybe tonight wouldn’t be as horrible as the knot in your stomach told you it was going to be. And even if it was at least you looked good, right?

“Anyway, how does one even get to a manor? Do we need a password?” Ari said smacking as she rolled a tube of ruby red lipstick over her lips.

“He said he would send a-,” A shrill chime from your phone interrupts you as the device begins to ring. “A car.”

“Hello?” You question when you answer the phone. You’re so preoccupied with the call you don’t notice your friends mocking you and your date over your shoulder.

“OooH you hear that Jo he sent a car,” Ari says in a sing-song tone.

“Rolling in the lap of luxury,” The loc bearing girl says dryly with a wry smile on her lips.

“Hey 3B there is some old guy down here saying he’s here to get you,” you hear the gruff voice of the security guard/front desk person. “I can send him away if you want, looks sketchy to me.”

“Oh no that is for me, I’ll be right down,” You say fighting back a chuckle.

You get skeptical but resigned ‘Okay’ before the phone clicks.

“It’s time,” you say, turning to look at the girls behind you, and you feel a slightly annoyed frown come over your lips. Thier mocking had turned into them simply making faces in the mirror. 

“Are we twelve?”

“Nah,” Ari says grabbing her clutch and making her way to your apartment door. “But we're about to turn this shit up to thirteen!”

You feel your eye twitch slightly in annoyance. A slap on your back causes you to jump slightly and you find yourself staring into Jo-Jo’s dark eyes.

“It’s too late to uninvite us now,” She says with a bit of devious smile. She rolls her shoulders, her suit jacket pulling tight before relaxing when her shoulders fall. “At least it won’t be boring.”

With a groan you follow the two girls downstairs, locking the door behind you.

You reach the lobby just in time to see Ari throwing a playful wave at the white-bearded security guard and Jo-Jo throws up a peace sign right behind her.

“Pea,” He calls stopping you before you could follow your friends outside.

You toss a glance at the man on your shoulder, “What’s wrong, Cal?”

His bushy eyebrows knit close together and his warm dark brown eyes look at you with worry.

“I-I just don’t get into trouble, okay? There are people out there that will take advantage of you girls cause you look young and they think you’re stupid cause you are out having fun.”

You feel a little warmth and a tinge of sadness creep up on you. What had he seen to make him feel like he needed to warn you like this?

“I promise you that where I’m going I’ll be safe,” You say. You hesitate to say the next part of your sentence. “The guy I-The guy I’m dating wouldn't hurt me.”

He gives you a skeptical gaze that a father might give a daughter, “At least tell me his name.”

You hesitate again but think better of it, there is no way that he would tell anyone right? “Bruce Wayne.”

He’d taken out a pen and pad to write down the name of the offender and stopped as soon as the name raced past your lips. He looks up to you with a slightly wide skeptical eye.

“As in-,”

“Yeah.”

An awkward silence passes before you begin shimmy your way out of the door without seeming too rude.

“I’m going to go now, Cal.”

“Uh-huh.”

You find yourself quickly missing the warmth of the lobby as the evening air nips at your cheeks. However, you have little time to process the weather as you’re slightly awed by the sight in front of you. A shiny black limo sat waiting, for you, still glistening in the nearly completely set sun. Either the thing was brand new or it was meticulously cared for.

You are so zoned in on the sheer extravagance of your ride you nearly miss the man, who would be your driver, calling your name.

“Miss,” He calls, opening the door and beckoning to slip into the warmth of your vehicle.

“Sorry,” you say with a bit of an embarrassed smile, “I’m not usually an airhead I promise.”

He gives you a polite quirk of his lips, “I promise, ma’am, I hadn’t noticed such a thing at all.”

You would have been grateful for the overlooking of your moment of ditziness if you hadn’t looked into the man’s eyes. While he was seemingly being polite, there was a bit of judgment in his eyes. Not in a harsh way, more like he was pursuing you. You felt a little sting in your chest as nervousness prickled down your spine. A part of you felt like you had met someone much more important than just a limo driver.

A “thank you,” slides past your lips as you slip into the vehicle. It comes out much quieter than you hoped it would and you are wondering if the man even heard it over Ari’s excited squealing. You find yourself gulping in relief when he closes the door behind you and makes his way to the driver's seat.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Jo-Jo is quick to notice your change in mood and the slightly pale look on your face the moment that you slip into the vehicle. “Your energy is all off.”

“Yeah, just Calvin warning me about some creeps that have been around the neighborhood,” You lie smoothly. You knew that if you had voiced your concerns that you had just fucked up some sort of first impressions, they would have tried to talk you out of it, and then told your not to give a fuck about what some old man thunk; and you in no way wanted the man to hear that you’d never live it down.

She gives you a look, clearly based on whatever your aura is giving her, that bullshit excuse is not enough. For your sake, though, she brushes it off and casts her gaze out of the window.

It’s not long before the car is moving and the city lights pass you. Aside from the drivers that could be crazy at night, there was something always calming to you about driving at night. Your mother and father used to take you out on late night drives when you couldn’t sleep like as baby and the effect seemed to stick even as an adult.

“This sure is Fancy, chickie,” Ari says pointing her camera at you snapping a quick picture before you could protest. “Like a chocolate goddess.”

The compliment stifles the complaint in your mouth and you feel your cheeks heat up. The only form of protest you manage to squeak out, “Don’t post it yet. You might have to get permission, I don’t know if this is supposed to be private or not.”

“I won’t say where we’re going,” She says almost completely ignoring you as she tags the picture and posts it. The phone is up again as she poses to make sure she gets the perfect selfie. “I gotta do something since there is no music in this bitch.”

Another embarrassed groan passes through your lips.

“This seems like something Kenya should have come to,” Jo-Jo comments mindlessly.

“Why? Because she’s just as uptight as the rest of these one-percenters?” Ari asks with a chuckle.

“Maybe,” Jo-Jo says with a chortle and a shrug of her shoulders.

“Just seemed like it would be her thing.”

You tune the rest of the conversation out. You don’t want to hear any more about what Kenya would have liked, or what she would have done. You had felt guilty enough for taking the job, now you have to feel guilty for not inviting her? Shouldn’t she feel guilty too? She practically sold you to the man after all. This is the way it's going to be, and you weren’t going to apologize first, because you weren’t the one that was wrong first.

There is no telling how long the more than slightly bitter thoughts bounce around in your head. You try to keep them away, feeling yourself frown in irritation the more and more you think about them. But they plague you the whole ride over to Bruce’s party. They absorb so much of your time you almost miss Ari’s declaration of your arrival.

“Holy Shit, Pea,” Ari says with her hand and the glass, face pressed against the window. “You bagged a big one didn’t you?”

You don’t see what she’s talking about until the limo makes its final turn into the driveway.

To say that the manor was impressive would be an understatement. You imagined that the manor must’ve been a grand sight no matter the occasion, but something about seeing it all lit up and people crowded outside as they tried to squeeze their way into the exclusive residence gave it a different feeling. Like it was something out of a fairytale. The nervous energy you had been feeling about attending the party came back at you in full force, and a wave of nausea churns in your stomach.

You close your eyes and try to calm yourself, there is no reason to be nervous. Technically this party is for you after all, and as the guest of honor, you should be able to do anything that you want right? At least that’s how your friends tended to act when it came to parties where they were the center of attention. But you had never been that outgoing or eager enough to command that much attention.

A warm hannd clasps around your shoulder and you turn to see Jo-Jo’s warm eyes looking at you with concern.

“We can go home if you want,” She says smoothly.

Ari, not having noticed your worried disposition jumps in with a scoff, “And waste this outfit? I think not.”

“Shut it,” Jo-Jo says curtly, only momentarily cutting her dark eyes at the young girl before giving you her full attention. “It’s up to you.”

You pull your lip into your mouth biting at the full flesh. Reluctantly, you cast a shy gaze at your excited friend. A thump of guilt runs through you when you see Ari’s arms crossed and full pout on her ruby red lips.

“It’s all right,” you say with a sigh and small. “If it gets too bad I’ll let you guys know and maybe then we can go somewhere else?”

You don’t miss the small pump of excitement that Ari does. Jo-Jo gives a skeptical look but relents with a shrug.

“It’s up to you.”

In no time at all the three of you are escorted to the front door and into the foyer. The place is crawling with socialites and you’re whisked into the Manor so fast you don’t have much time to appreciate the decadence of the building.

You hear the man that drove you here ask you not to move, that Bruce would be down to escort you through the party and you find yourself planted in front of the door, moving side to side whenever people would leave or enter.

“This is bullshit,” Ari says after the fifth couple squeezes by you. “Look at them schmoozing. I want to schmooze. Find a rich guy to take care of me.”

“We’re here to support our pea,” Jo-Jo chides the younger girl.

But you can see the bored look come across her face as she surveys the party. A guilty feeling wells up in your chest.

“You know now that we are here I feel much better, you don’t have to stay here with me, I’m sure Bruce will be down in just a minute. I’ll be fine.”

Ari looks at you skeptically her red lips pulling down into a frown.

“Really, I’m fine, go and have fun.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” the girl says with a devious grin on her face.

She moves so fast that she’s almost a blur as she disappears into the surprised crowd. It isn’t long until you hear her chatting and she has a little circle around her, the people enraptured by her gift to seemingly make anything interesting.

When you look back at your other friend you see her eyes locked onto a painting across the room.

“You can go check it out,” you say with a nudge and smile.

She casts a pensive glance at you, rocking back and forth on the heels of her boots as she tries to decide if she is going to leave to fend for yourself.

“This might be your only chance to see it,” you comment nonchalantly. “Who knows I may get fired next week and we’ll never be invited to one of these things again.”

Jo-Jo lets out an unconvinced snort, “Not likely.”

And though your friend is standing her ground you can see her eyes fluttering around the room, different paintings now becoming apparent to her. You knew it was taking everything in her not to run over and examine each one.

“Go,” you nudge her, “I’ll be fine.”

She hesitates for a moment before giving you a nod. Her long-form elegantly and nonchalantly striding to the first painting that caught her eye.

You give her a wave as she goes over. A sigh forces itself out past your lips. You were always happy to see your friends having fun, but still, you wished you could be a little more clear about what you wanted. You did want them to stay and wait with you, hell you would have stuck by them the whole night if you could. But what kind of friend would you be if you held them, hostage, the whole night?

Still, it had been about ten minutes since you were asked to wait here and you were starting to get weird looks from other partygoers. The smile you had plastered on your face to make it seem like you were supposed to be there, was starting to make your cheeks ache.

Aimlessly you begin to wander around the party, never straying too far from the front door, you could at least look like you were trying to blend into the party. You peek into one of the rooms and you’re a little stunned by what you see. Standing in what looks like a well-furnished kitchen stood a man surrounded by a crowd of onlookers. They seemed entranced by the man, judging by the goofy smile on their faces and the way they leaned in to listen to what he said. When he laughed they laughed, almost like he was a puppet master controlling the room.

Almost as if he could feel you staring at him he turns his head slightly giving you a view of his profile. You’re stunned and a little confused by his appearance. Thick dark hair and expressive blue eyes, if you didn’t know any better you’d your experiment had done too good of a job; reducing Bruce to someone only a year or younger than you were.

His eyes, or at least the one you can see from where you are, widens in recognition and you could swear you could see a smirk cross his face before he turned his attention back to the crowd in front of him.

Why did he look at you like that, like he knew exactly who you were? Did you know any Bruce Wayne mini me’s?

A warm hand wraps itself around your waist, and you can swear you can feel every finger searing into your skin. You would have jumped if a familiar scent hadn't washed over you calming you instantly. You look up wide-eyed into the smirking face of your date and have to fight to keep a relieved smile from washing over your face.

“Bruce,” You say with a breathy sigh. The relief in your tone made the smirk on his face deepened, something you weren’t sure was even possible.

“You look surprised,” He said, a smug tone permeating his voice. “It is my house, I’m pretty sure that I’m allowed to be here.”

You smack his arm slightly, pushing the fact that his arm is still wrapped around you and that it feels good to the back of your mind.

“It’s not that,” you say with a bit of a pout. “I’ve been running around here looking confused and then…”

You let the sentence hang in the air for a moment, casting a glance over your shoulder at the gentlemen who still had that entire room wrapped around his finger.

“I thought...”

“You thought that I suddenly de-aged twenty years?” He questioned with a slight chuckle as his gaze only briefly flickered over to the man.

“More like thirty,” You say your tone beginning to match his smugness.

“Harsh,” He says with a faux pout. “That’s my son, well one of them."

“Son?” You question with furrowed eyebrows. The fact that he has multiple of them doesn’t even register in your ears.

“Adopted,” he says with a nod of his head, “All except one.”

The way he says it, it’s almost like he expected you to know about the existence of his children. And perhaps you should have, it was more than likely that there was some kind of profile or at least picture out in the world somewhere. He was exorbitantly famous after all, and in Gotham, you imagined that there was no detail about his life you could avoid unless you were trying to do so. Well, unless it was someone like you who lived under a rock, almost completely cut off from the social world. Unless you counted the few fake accounts that you had to keep tabs on your favorite groups and the proper way to wash your face and arch an eyebrow.

“Sons,” If you were capable of being upfront about the complexities of your mind, you would have told the man in front of you that you were about to zone out for the next sixty-seconds so you could properly determine your feelings on the subject. But you weren’t and so you stared at the man with a slightly narrowed gaze and parted lips.

Didn’t bachelor usually mean, like no attachments? Or maybe it usually didn’t matter whether or not men had children when they were rich and handsome because they were rich and handsome men. 

And how would you feel about dating a man with children? Granted, from looking at the...man? Boy? Maybe boy was more appropriate. There were times where you still felt more like a girl than a woman. He was old enough to not give a shit about what his father did. But what about the rest? What if they were significantly younger? And what if they didn’t like the fact that their father was flitting around town with someone who still felt like a girl? What if they thought you were some kind of leech?

There is a warm hand on your face and a large thumb runs over your cheekbone comfortingly. If there was a word to describe the feeling of suddenly refocusing you would have used it. You blink and suddenly you find yourself looking into concerned blue irises. Had they always been as nice as they were tonight? Maybe it was just the fancy lighting of the chandeliers he had in his house.

“Are you all right?” He says with furrowed brows and a slight frown quirking on the edge of his lips.

You find yourself a little taken aback. Perhaps it was the first time you found him to be genuinely concerned. Like he was afraid of rejection. Any other time there would have been at least a spark of playfulness in his eyes. A hint that he wasn’t taking everything seriously. But this was different. He was wondering if this was a deal-breaker for you, and what that would mean for your “relationship.”

Suddenly, a feeling runs over you. Perhaps it was the pitiful look in his eyes or the frown on his lips. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the thumb that was still running over your cheekbone so delicately, as if you were made of glass. But you decided that you didn’t care about his sons. Not that you didn’t care if they existed or not or about their being. But they weren’t something that seemed like baggage, it was just a part of him. And you would love that part of him just as much as you loved everything else.

Love?

“No,” you say, voice slightly trembling but your hand coming up to cover his. “I’m not alright.”

He takes a deep breath, a sigh almost, and you aren’t sure what it means. He doesn’t pull away from you and he doesn’t look like he’s taken your words as rejection. Could it be that he felt the same way you did? Or at least he had been reading you just as much as you had been reading him.

“Pea! Where are you?!”

The high pitched squeal snaps you out of the moment that you had been having with your date. A slightly embarrassed chill runs its way down your back as you see a slightly twirling figure begin to spin it's way toward you.

The younger girl comes to a perfectly placed pose in front of you, a hand on her hip and flute of champagne poised in her hand.

“This place isn’t that bad, no Megan The Stallion or City Girls or anything to shake my ass to or even do a little two-step or a jig, but this shit right here,” she stops to shake the flute and downing it. “And those little cheese things they have going around on those fancy plates are totally worth it.”

If you weren’t in public perhaps you would have slapped a hand to your face. Or maybe if you had been anywhere else or at anyone else’s party you wouldn’t have cared. It was just Ari being Ari after all. But here you felt not embarrassed, but worried? What if he didn’t accept your friends and the way they were? You’d have to cut him off then and you really didn’t want to.

As if sensing your worry, Bruce makes the first move.

“Well, I’m sure that I can find someone around here to liven up the music here,” He says with a charming smile affixing to his face.

Ari considers him for a minute, eyes flicking back and forth between the two of you for little more than a hot second.

“No need to worry about it on my account,” she says an easy smile crossing her face. “Between you and me if you played anything with any kind of beat to someone might have a heart attack.”

She ends it with a friendly nudge to the ribs and tossing a swift look over her shoulder at a few couples who were looking at the three of you with more than a little bit of interest. With the frowns on their faces, you couldn’t rightly tell if they were upset that they hadn’t gotten the chance to enrapture the billionaire the way the two of you had or if there was something a little more sinister flowing through their thoughts.

“Between you and me, that might be the most exciting thing that's ever happened at one of these things,” He quips back.

The two share a laugh and your tense shoulders finally come down from your ears, relaxing as you realized that this whole thing was going much better than you had envisioned it going.

"Arianna Van Buren,” she says, giving him an elegant hand for him to shake.

You’re a little surprised that she’s given him her full name. She’s always hated people knowing she came from a wealthy family, especially one with a recognizable name.

“Bruce Wayne,” he says cordially, but without the pomp, he usually gives when he’s throwing his weight around. “Van Buren, Real Estate right?”

“This one is a dancer,” she says, a little haughty. “But I’m not in the Russian Ballet so I wouldn’t expect you to know that.”

“Ouch,” he says laughing good-naturedly.

And while you’re sure that the jibe didn’t bother him, you are a little surprised when the arm around your waist pulls tighter to him. Ari notices too, and a small smirk crosses her lips.

Feeling a little bashful you turn your gaze away from the pair. It just so happens that you find yourself, looking back at his son. Only there is another one there with him, this one slightly taller than the first but younger. He flashes his gaze at you when the older one tells him you're looking and winds up turning around, a little abashed. The older one, seemingly more than comfortable mortifying strangers, waves at you with a smile.

'Oh God' you think with a shudder of anxeity rolling through your shoulders. 'This is really happening isn't it?'

As if destined by the gods of making you crazy, Ari notices that you have checked out of their little sparring match. And while she normally was a little gregarious and never rude, she seemed to lose her train of thought when she glanced over at the boys who were talking about the three of you.

Bruce is also quick to notice that her attention has turned elsewhere.

“My sons,” He starts with a hint of pride in his voice. Even though he wasn’t their biological father he was still proud of the men that they had become. “Dick Grayson and Tim Drake.”

“Uh-huh,” the enraptured girl replied.

A sinking feeling explodes in your belly as a grin spreads over her face. She’s quick to cover it up though, turning to face the two of you with a doe-eyed look on her face. You shuddered at its appearance, it was something that she always did when she found a new person that she’s set her eyes on.

“If you don’t mind, I think I’m going to go mingle with the rest of the guests,” She says with a light tone, betraying the sinister intention she had for one or both of the brothers.

“Ari I don’t thin-,” You begin to warn as she flutters her way across the room. The hand on your waist squeezes slightly and you cast a questioning gaze to the man beside you.

“They’ll be all right,” He says with a bit of a smirk. “They’ve been in hairier situations.”

“But,” you begin in protest, turning to look at the group, or pair now. Dick, the older of the two had snuck off somewhere. But Ari didn’t seem to mind too much, she seemed to settle her mind on Tim, the much more reserved of the two. As she flirted, you could see the blush beginning to spread across his cheeks from across the room. “She might eat him.”

The older man nearly lets out a snort, the notion seems absurd. “Trust me, he’ll be fine.”

You relax slightly, who were you to get in the way. They were adults after all, and if he was so sure that they’d be fine maybe they would be.

“If you say so,” you relent.

“Good,” he says, flashing you a winning smile. He begins to lead you away from the room. “Let me give you the tour of the place.”

As if he knows the hesitation in your mind he sweeps you away from the congested foyer and the rest of the downstairs rooms, choosing to take you upstairs and show you the art decorating his walls. Normally, you would have been a little wary of him leading you away from the party, he would use whatever chance he got to tease you, but this time you were grateful. You could deal with the prying eyes at work; for some reason working at Wayne Enterprises meant that someone was always watching you, even if they didn’t have anything to do with your job. But you supposed it made some sort of sense. After all, the company was practically the lifeblood of the city. It made sense that not only would people be curious but that they would be critical of any mistake or flaw. The difference from work and this place was the simple fact you couldn’t just leave a conversation whenever you felt like it with some sort of fleeting excuse. That would be seen as rude, and lord knows you didn’t want to be known as the rude black girl at Bruce Wayne’s party. That would follow you anywhere you went.

The upstairs part of Wayne manor is as quiet as it is beautiful. There were a few guests who had also escaped the heard downstairs to admire some of the truly beautiful pieces in Wayne’s collection. Luckily, those people weren’t inclined to stop what they were doing to kiss the ass of their host. Judging by some of the fleeting glances that they paid the billionaire, you doubted that they cared much about him in the first place.

He seemed particularly inclined to steer you toward one room in the house specifically. And when he opened the door of said room, you almost let out a snort of excitement.

“Look at all the books!” You swoon walking into the private library and letting your fingers run over the spines of the books on the first shelf that was accessible to you.

“It’s beautiful,” you say with a bit of a dreamy smile.

"It is, isn't it?" He says with a small admiring smile on his face. There was a bit of wonder in his eyes. You imagined that he adored the place. "I don't think that I appreciated it as much as I do now that I'm older."

"I don't expect children to be too excited about a library or invested in the intricacies of fine architecture," You joke.

"True, but I'm a little embarrassed to admit that it took me a lot longer to appreciate it then it should have."

After your chuckles fall quiet you find yourself examining not just the books but the room in general. Being in the manor was like being in a movie. His library not only boasted a pair of the most comfortable chairs that you had probably ever seen but they were also placed in front of the fireplace. Real or fake you couldn’t tell, but the crackling sound that came from the area gave the room a homey feeling, despite it being anything other than homely.

“Is this your family?” you ask, eyes coming to rest on the large portrait of a family. The room was dark and so the faces of the adults were obscured but the stoic face of the young boy in the middle gave you no doubts about what this was a painting of.

He doesn’t answer immediately and you turn to look over your shoulder at the man.

His face was passive, but the intensity of his eyes told you that he was thinking hard about what to say to you next.

While you had not understood who the man was when you had first moved to the city, it wasn’t long into your tenure at Wayne enterprises that you had heard nearly his entire life story. Not only at the office by gossiping employees but also on the news. It seemed that any chance they got to do some sort of expose on the man’s life they did it fully. And because of that, you feel a little bit of guilt begin to swell up in your belly. Perhaps it would have been better to say nothing. Judging by the pensive expression on his face, you were almost certain that the wound from that tragic day had never truly healed.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s fine,” he said after another moment of silence. “If I had a problem with you seeing it I wouldn’t have brought you here. It’s just-”

“It still hurts,” you finish when he trails off. And while you cannot say that you could necessarily understand the pain that he was going through, there were hurts in your past that you still hadn’t completely gotten over so you could understand how something so dramatic could still affect him now.

“Can I ask why you brought me here?”

He looks at you slightly surprised, “Sorry did I get it wrong? I assumed you would like to see something like this.”

“You’re not wrong,” you say slightly put off that your tastes were simple enough to be sussed out so easily. “But that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh?” He questions as he takes a few steps toward you closing the distance between you.

Your breathing hitches slightly when he’s directly in front of you and you can feel a rush of heat flood it’s way up to your cheeks. It gets worse when you try to meet his gaze as you begin to realize that it’s just a man you may or may not have feelings for locked in a semi-lit room, away from the prying eyes of the party guests. As the thoughts run through your head you realize you can’t exactly hold his gaze for more than a few seconds without feeling small.

“I’m just not a party person,” you admit somewhat bashfully. “At least not this kind of party.”

“Oh, and what kind of parties do you actually like?” His tone is slightly teasing, and from the slight way that he’s leaning back, you realize that he’s trying to make you more comfortable.

“The kind where I get dressed up and sit in my living room and watch movies all night.”

You cringe slightly as the words come out of your mouth. Ari had scolded you on that very behavior when you were in school. You had told her that you fully booked Friday night. Being suspicious, she came to your room only to find you swinging around a lightsaber while Return of the Jedi was playing in the background. From then on she’d never believed you when you said you were busy.

“Kind of weird, huh?” You say a hand coming up to rub at the back of your neck as nervousness had begun to overtake your body.

“Not at all,” he replies simply.

While you’re feeling nervous you can’t help but flick up a skeptical glance at the man who simply gives you a reassuring smile.

“If you think that I couldn’t tell this wouldn’t have been something that you would be super excited about you’d be mistaken,” he says looking at you seriously.

“Then why the party then if you knew I wouldn’t like it?” You question eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“To be honest, I like to think of myself as more or less traditional when it comes to things like this. And if you had been anyone else maybe I would have simply asked you to dinner first or maybe the movies since you seem fond of those.”

The little jab causes a small smile to rise on your lips.

“But being that you are a person who would rather stay in than go out on the town, I figured this was the best way to do it.”

“Do what?”

“Have our first date,” he says with a smirk on his face.

“This isn’t exactly what I would call a ‘date’ even if I am your date,” you say pursing your lips slightly. Though you should have expected the flirtation, you after all invited it. “And why wouldn’t you think that I would like to go out to dinner? Don’t tell me you’d be embarrassed by me.”

If he had been someone with bad intentions, you are sure that the last line would have gotten some sort of reaction out of him. But he didn’t even flinch. A part of you wonders if it’s because he’s so good at maintaining his cool or if he really wouldn’t have cared what people would have had to say about him being out with you. You weren’t blind to the fact that you and your friends stuck out as soon as you walked into his manor. But you also weren’t inclined to be hidden like someone’s dirty little secret.

“Embarrassed?” He questions with a click of his tongue, a chiding edge to his tone.

It happens before you can blink. Your body pulled toward him in an instant. To stop yourself from crashing into the man your hands come up to meet the man's chest.

His arm is wrapped around your waist like it was earlier, but it feels different now. You aren’t being shielded away from the prying eyes of the other guests. It’s just you and him and it feels different.

There is an urge to look away to save yourself from the indignity of the doe-eyed stare you would surely give him. But he seems to be able to read your body language and acts before you can.

The warmth of his free hand runs over your chin and down your neck as he tilts your chin up to look at him.

“I don’t think you understand what I mean,” he says with his tone low as if he was afraid that someone else would hear you. His voice rumbles in his chest and it sends butterflies twirling from your throat down to the very bottom of your tummy. “If I had taken you to dinner, or a movie, and someone saw us what do you suppose would happen?”

“I-I don’t know,” you say thickly trying to keep unnecessary words from spilling out of your mouth. “I suppose we’d have to tell H.R.”

You can see him having to stifle his laughter, in the end, a few chuckles escape in its place.

“That too,” he said when he had collected himself. “But as someone who values their privacy, I thought it’d be obvious why I didn’t want to force you out into the public.”

‘Into the public?’ You question yourself. Due to the haze of attraction and the heat of embarrassment clouding your mind, it takes you a minute to catch on to what he means.

“Oh,” you say blinking in realization. In truth, it was something that you could have easily figured out yourself if your mind wasn’t already addled. Since becoming aware of the man you couldn’t count how many expose’s and covers of local newspapers and magazines had his face on them. It was like every move he made, no matter how trivial it was, made headlines.

“I didn’t think you wanted paparazzi following your every move or digging up your personal life, just because you went on one date with me.”

He was right that perhaps that wouldn’t be what you would want normally. But things weren’t normal right now were they? And when it came to him nothing would ever be normal. If you had agreed to a proper date with him would you be able to stand it? And what if I didn’t work out? Would they scorn you and call you names? Or worse. What would happen if it did work out? Would you want to deal with the scrutiny that would come with? The questioning about your intentions, especially when it came to his money. And an even scarier thought would be having to deal with all, the insidiousness of innuendos. About your color, your shape, even your femininity.

“I want to go to dinner.”

It tumbles out before you can stop yourself but you know you mean it, even if you normally wouldn’t be brave enough to say it.

“Are you sure?” He asks his voice no more than a whisper. His arm pulls you against him even tighter leaving almost no space in between the two of you. The fabric of your dress you can feel him pressed against you. He is solid and warm and your hand can’t help but trail down his form before grabbing onto and scrunching the lapel of his suit. Later some would notice the slight wrinkling of his suit. Perhaps they would fix their mouth to make a snide comment, but think better of it.

“Mm-hmm,” you say with a nod.

Words were beginning to fail you now as your eyes had begun to leave his eyes and instead focus on his lips that were dangerously close to touching yours.

“Positive?” He teases his head dipping over yours.

Perhaps showing your age you pout slightly and decide to be brave. The balls of your feet have to bear your weight as you push yourself up slightly.

And with barley sigh your lips catch his.

[masked-buffoon]

Chapter 5: One’s desires (Part 4)

Warnings: blackmail, mind control

Author notes: Ogawa being a girl for once didn’t seem like such a bad idea... What do you think? XD

The weeks passed, rather quickly. It was meaningful to say human life was spent within a blink; time had never fled so fast to me, although the fourteen first years of my existence had been dull, filled with boredom, to the point a second would seem like an hour to me.

The day of Mori-san's birthday approached, and Dazai-san looked more and more concerned about my own presence at the party. The lower men would definitely have their evening off to spend with their families while the executives and their second in command would enjoy the luxurious festivities with corrupted businessmen and politics; I, a mere lieutenant, was not supposed to be there, even though I was Dazai-san's protege. I wonder if his other subordinate, the "dog", had been invited as well. I had heard rumours about his strength but had never gotten the opportunity to meet him in person. Would we get along...? However, those thoughts were just a small matter in comparison to the problem I had on my hands; I looked horrible.

Any woman would want to dress up for a party, even more for a fancy event. Picking up her outfit and choosing her makeup according to her hairstyle were points a member of the feminine gender could not neglect, for appearance also represented who she was inside. A woman could not dress up in any way... But I... I was a hideous person, so thin the bones of my back and my ribs actually showed when I looked at my bare body in the mirror. Despite the sleep I had been granted, my eyes were still circled and my hair was completely colourless, as if it was not even alive. I gritted my teeth in front of the mirror, then resigned myself to wear my usual suit, which managed to hide the horrible thing I had for a body. I had no curve and my chest, due to long time starvation, was flatter than the usual. There was no way the ugliness I saw in the mirror could be covered up by a pretty dress and nice makeup. I would just end up shaming Dazai-san... Oh... No one expected a lowly lieutenant like me to look good anyway, as long as I wore something correct. I would just be there because the Boss had ordered me to. Even so, was it wrong to wish I could dress up, even for an evening...?

"You seem down, lately, Ogawa-kun." My superior noted when I entered his office in the morning.

"I can't pretend the contrary..." I sighed "Moreover, it is such a ridiculous reason..."

"Do tell me. I am so bored, you could make me laugh~"

"If you insist..." I cracked a smile "Actually, I am troubled by my outfit for the Boss' party... I can't pick one..."

"Too many choices~? Men have it easy, any suit can dress us up." He chuckled.

"If only...! It's just that... Nothing could suit me..." I confessed "But that's just a trivial matter, nothing involving life or death..."

"I must say, I thought you didn't care about such things." He told me "And to be honest, it is not 'trivial', as you would put it. It is not vital, indeed, but it is not trivial. If it is important to you, you have the right to be troubled over your outfit."

"Do you really think so...?" I was shocked by his reaction, not expecting his support the least.

"Of course. And I'm even going to help you by giving you advice. What about you go and see ane-san? She will most certainly be able to find you something."

"D-Dazai-san..." I could not help feeling grateful "Thank you..."

"Don't worry~ You'll be perfectly fine. Besides, you're okay as you are, so don't torment yourself too much." He smiled.

I felt myself blushing slightly upon hearing his words. Although he was just being nice... It was good to be complimented from time to time.

The day of the party, the very feminine executive of the Port Mafia accepted to take care of my appearance, not without stating it was a shame I had not come to see her earlier. She was one of the few women in the organisation and, although I had sometimes watched her taking part of a torture session, our relationship had remained strictly professional. I was not even aware that she had kept an eye on me all this time...

"You should eat more." She stated, taking a look at me "Does Dazai-kun not give you enough money to feed yourself?"

"That's not it..." I shook my head "I just... Don't use the money for eating..."

"Is that so...? That being said, there are rumours about a morphine addict in that boy's squadron. Do you know anything about it?" She asked.

She was terrifying. There was not a single thing happening in the Mafia that she did not know of and, despite not uttering a single word about these matters, she watched it all in the shadows. Even so, she also had a reassuring and mother-like presence which made me feel safe. I could tell she would not harm me in any way. Her hands stroked the skin of my cheeks as she examined my face, thoughtfully.

"Your eyes have a beautiful colour." She noted "It is very unusual. Who do you take after?"

"I'm not sure..." I admitted "Perhaps... My mother...?"

"What do you mean you are not sure?" She sighed "Whatever... Modern clothes won't fit. I'll find a suitable kimono for you. Besides, the obi makes a rather practical place to hide your gun. It'll be perfect."

"I don't know how to thank you... Helping me out like this... Whereas you must have much more important matters to take care of..."

"What are you saying?" She giggled "I really enjoy dressing you up like a doll. Besides, who said we were done~? There is a dozen outfits waiting for you to try them on~"

"Is... Is that so...?" I grimaced.

"Of course~ And we'll find the perfect one, believe me~"

After an afternoon of being wrapped in silk by ane-san, she finally made up her mind and accepted to give me a night blue kimono covered in colourful flowers. The sleeves were long, characteristic of the furisode worn by young unmarried girls and the obi was not tied too much so I could easily put a gun under it to defend myself. The executive smiled at me gently as she combed my hair with her delicate hands, doing her best despite its short length. Finally, she clipped in various hairpins and jewels to make it look better.

"You look very pretty." She complimented me "It was worth asking for my help, finally."

"Of course...!" I agreed, barely able to hide my joy "I am very grateful..."

"By the way, Ogawa-chan... Do you know what the flowers on your kimono mean? I'm afraid it might bother you..." She hummed.

I considered her question and lowered my eyes to study the patterns on the sleeves. They were red, scarlet flowers, splattered like blood on the silk. She had not asked such a thing innocently… I chuckled and a slight smirk made its way to my face.

"Higanbana..." I recognised them "Red spider lilies. It doesn't bother me, I am used to carrying death around me. I only fear the Boss may find it ominous, if anything."

"I'm sure he won't mind. I just realised, but that colour suited you so well..." She laughed softly.

"Of course it does, ane-san. What am I, but a murderer? Even makeup and a fancy attire can't hide that fact. But I do not care."

"We are flowers of darkness that can only bloom in the shadows. Our beauty shall not radiate in the sun, after all..." She patted my shoulders "Just let me paint your lips with rouge, then you'll be ready, Ogawa-chan."

"Thank you, ane-san. For everything."

She grinned.

"Our heart shall never soften, lest we want to fall apart."

Kōyō ane-san accompanied me to the party, dressed in a gorgeous red kimono which enlightened her naturally pale complexion. Thanks to her presence, I was noticed by only few curious people and could easily make my way inside the crowd of mafiosi and corrupted officials chatting, drink in hand. I took a deep breath and put a hand onto the gun, carefully put inside the obi. If anything were to happen, I could defend both myself and Dazai-san. There was nothing I had to fear, despite the feeling of uneasiness overwhelming me.

"Ogawa...? Oh, it really is you...!" A familiar voice greeted me from behind.

Calmly, I turned around and wore my most polite smile, before realising it was Oda-san. I relaxed my posture.

"Good evening." I nodded at him "Dazai-san told me he had invited you. Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Not quite." He admitted, rubbing the back of his head "I'm not used to all of that..."

"The fanciness...?" I guessed "Neither am I... I must say, it is too much for the poor slum girl I am."

"Yet, you carry yourself so properly..." He remarked "Not that I am here to judge..."

"I originally come from a rich house." I recalled "I remember seeing my mother greeting some important guests. She wore a kimono too..."

"I see... You never talk about your parents."

"I never talk about the people I kill. I could speak about the plethora of cowards who deflected the Port Mafia as well, but they aren't interesting." I grinned.

"Oh..."

"My apologies, Oda-san... I know you do not kill... All that talk must have made you uncomfortable."

"I'm not... Uncomfortable. Only intrigued. Do you enjoy that work...?"

I frowned, taken aback.

"Do I enjoy it? Obviously I don't." I blinked "It's just work..."

"You don't seem particularly repulsed by it either."

"Is an office worker repulsed by paperwork?" I glanced at him.

"It happens... When there is too much."

"Then, the man is an idiot. Working is vital to earn money, and money is vital to live, although too much creates such greed human beings tend to become vicious." I sighed "Whatever..."

"I'm not sure to ever understand that way of thinking..." He shrugged it off.

"That's because you perhaps haven't lived in the shallows yourself. Surviving... This is my only way of living. I don't care about being immoral." I smiled.

"Yeah... I can see that. At least, you know that what you do is bad..."

"Who would think killing is good?"

"There is someone I know who doesn't quite make the difference between good and evil..."

"Oh, really? I wonder if we are not thinking about the same person..."

"What are you talking about~?"

We both became more cheerful upon seeing Dazai-san appearing in front of us with his carefree smile. I noted, amused, that he had not bothered getting changed at all, wearing his usual dark suit and his heavy coat I found so warm.

"Nothing important." I told him "Good evening, Dazai-san."

"Good evening, Odasaku, Ogawa-kun~ So you did go to ane-san. I'm glad she found something suitable." He said.

"Thank you." I felt my cheeks heat up the slightest.

"Do you want a glass of champagne?" He suggested as a waiter carrying a tray walked next to us.

I accepted and had a taste of the drink. I had heard it was expensive alcohol, produced in France. A single bottle of good champagne could cost hundreds of dollars and even more yen. I brought it to my lips. It was sweet, a tad bitter, but overall sweet. The bubbles made it a fresh drink, the perfect one for a fancy event like the one we were attending. I remembered when I was younger... The father used to import it to sell it in Japan to other rich businessmen. He would always keep one or two bottles for himself. He had done so for wine, too.

"So, are you enjoying yourselves~?" My superior asked us.

"I feel uneasy..." Oda-san admitted "I might go look for Ango."

"Oh, I'll reach you soon...!" He promised "What about you, Ogawa-kun?"

"I'm anxious." I declared without detour "Why was I invited...? I am a mere lieutenant, I don't have my place in there."

"You don't stand out." He chuckled "But, indeed, why were you invited...? I had a talk with the Boss, a moment ago, and he refused to tell me anything."

"I'm afraid we'll have to find out..."

"Good evening Dazai-kun, Ogawa-kun." A poised voice interrupted our talk.

We both turned around, and I bowed, automatically, feeling as though my back was being pushed down by some uncontrollable strength. The charisma emanating from this person, the imposing fear-inducing aura of his... It was far more powerful than Dazai-san's, and my whole being shook in fright before him. So, he was the Boss of the Port Mafia, Mori Ōgai-san... The merciless leader of this organisation...

"We've already seen each other." My superior was the first to raise and look at the Boss "Several minutes ago."

"Indeed. Ogawa-kun, you may raise. After all, you are my guest, tonight...~" He demanded.

I was paralysed. This was an order, I had to obey his order so I would not be punished, yet I... Was unable to even lift a finger. This man bore no good intention.

A glass fell down and cracked on the ground, waking me up from my dazed off state.

"Oh my, I'm so clumsy...~" Dazai-san chuckled as people came to pick up the shattered pieces of glass.

I immediately regained consciousness and smiled at Mori-san.

"It is an honour to have been invited, Boss." I said in a breath.

"Well, I wanted to introduce you to someone important, after all." He smiled back "Dazai-kun, how could you drop this precious crystal glass?"

"I hurt my hand with a knife earlier, and the pain loosened my grip."

He was lying, with a most casual smile. However, I could feel that those were no usual words. The Boss had easily deduced the executive had attempted to save me and was silently threatening him, with this fake, knowing and mischievous smile. I wanted to run away.

"Be more careful in the future." He advised, smug "Ogawa-kun?"

I hesitated upon taking his hand into mine, sensing that as soon as I would make contact with him, my fate would be sealed and I would not be able to go back on my words. Moreover... I was unsure whether it was permitted to touch the Boss of the Port Mafia. I sought approval from my executive.

"Yes, Boss..." I timidly obeyed, registering the nod from Dazai-san.

"So..." His voice lowered so I was the only one hearing him "You have no choice but to do as I say, now."

His fingers imperceptibly crushed mine, and I held back a gasp of pain.

"Whether you like it or not, you will use your ability for me. Otherwise, someone you care about will die. You know I cannot kill Dazai-kun, but I have my sources, and it seems someone miraculously survived the massacre of your family... Isn't it odd~?"

My heart skipped a bit, and I let the Boss drag me across the room, completely losing both composure and willpower. Ruriko-chan... How had he known? Then, again, he was the leader of this underground organisation, there was nothing he would not be aware of...

"If I reveal the truth to Dazai-kun, how will he react, do you think? He will be disappointed, he will toss you aside like a worthless pawn..." He smirked at me "We would not want that, would we~? Not after everything he did to keep you there~”

"N-No, Boss..."

I was in front of a child. He was small, had deep eyes lost in thoughts and held onto the ugliest plush toy I had ever seen. Mori-san let go of me to introduce us and slowly pushed the boy closer to me.

"This is Yumeko Kyūsaku-kun, call him Q. He is eleven and a member of the Port Mafia too, and has an ability involving breaking people."

Horrible. This man was horrible, and despicable. At eleven years old, how could he make this poor boy a member of an organisation...? It was insane. I felt as though I had stepped onto a mined ground.

"Hello, Q-kun..." I tried a friendly smile "My name is Ogawa Yōko, I am glad to meet you —"

As I was going to shake his small hand, I retracted immediately upon seeing the razor blade in the palm of his hand. What on Earth...?

"Oh, you noticed it, miss...!" He chuckled, much like a madman "Too bad, I can't show you madness~"

This boy was sick, too. He was mentally unstable, what was I even doing, talking to him? Around me, the silence had fallen, and hundreds of evil looks were turned toward us. People were expecting; what was the show Mori-san would create for them? What kind of twisted plot had the Boss planned to entertain his guests?

"What do you want from me...?" I glared at the Boss.

"That boy... Has troubles." He grinned "I do not quite understand what is in his mind, and I would simply like you to read his thoughts."

"Oh... Well..." I looked at Q-kun a moment "He's very glad to see the light, for once, and only wants to have fun... If I may, Boss, teaching a child to have fun with razor blades is not quite... Sane."

"We do agree about that, then. You see, Q has always been a peculiar child... He seeks joy in madness, his own and people's. But that's not our topic. Ogawa-kun, I'm afraid you misunderstood me." His eyes narrowed.

"Did I...?" My voice came out meekly.

"I have no interest in these useless and superficial thoughts. What I want to know is his inner desires. Because it is the true power of The Sweet Appeals, isn't it? Discovering one's deepest and secret desires...~"

My hands trembled uncontrollably in fear. What was he going to do to me?

"I... I don't quite control it..." I defended.

"I don't care about that. I need you to delve in Q's world, and you will."

Suddenly, someone pushed me against the boy. Quickly, I grabbed his shoulders to prevent us from falling on the floor, then knelt in front of him.

"Are you alright?" I inquired "Are you injured anywhere?"

Q-kun's innocent and dumbfounded face turned into a large smirk when he heard my question, and, with horror, I noticed his sleeves were reddening. I backed away, terrified. He had blades hidden on his arms as well, and I had unintentionally hurt him... Mori-san grabbed the ugly plush from the boy's arms, earning a displeased whine, and showed it to me.

"When that thing is torn up... That boy's ability turns on...~ So~? What will you be able to find in the world of madness, I wonder~? Oh and by the way... If you hurt any of my guests, I'll have you killed~ That being said..."

"Ogawa-kun...!"

The moment Dazai-san was about to reach us, guards restrained him and kept him farther. I was frightened. So much that I wanted to break into tears. What was going to happen to me...? I did not want to die...! My heart thumped in my chest and time seemed to slow down. All too brusquely, I saw the doll being torn in two.

Nothing happened, at first. Then, one by one, a mark appeared on the guests and they started attacking me. I remembered the Boss' words about hurting them, and did nothing. If I were to hurt them, even the slightest, he would take my life... The punch never came. Was that an illusion? It did not hurt. But still... Containing the part of me who wanted to counterattack was becoming harder as the seconds passed. What was I supposed to find in there, anyway...? There was nothing related to Q-kun, nothing I could hear about his thoughts, nothing at all... And how to get out of there? I started sobbing like a lost child. I wanted to go out. I wanted to be freed from that nightmare!

Something hurt. An attack. Somehow, it had touched me. I realised that, the more time I spent in the illusion, the less I had control on my own mind, and the more I would give in to madness. I groaned as the guests hit me, but did not try to defend myself. How to leave...?

"Stop it... Stop it... I beg you... Stop..." I cried "Someone... Someone...! Help...!"

[kinglazrus]

For the prompt list thing any chance you wanna do random, #5?

Random #5 - “I would call you an imbecile but that’d be cruel as you wouldn’t be able to spell it.”

It Could be Weird

Danny’s life is weird. Everybody knows it. Even if they don’t know about his part-timejob of being dead, they know about his eccentric ghost-hunting parents, and his uptight psychology obsessed sister, and his own eternal fascination with space.

They know the food in his lunchbox is sometimes alive. They know the lump in his backpack’s water bottle holder isn’t a water bottle but a compact ectogun. They know Danny sleeps above a portal to another dimension.

But they don’t know the weirdest thing about Danny’s life which, amazingly enough,is not the fact that he’s half-dead. It’s that for the past five nights Danny has come home from ghost patrol to find Dash Baxter sitting in his living room, wearing glasses.

Tonight, Danny sneaks in through his bedroom window, phasing through the class. He dumpsthe thermos on his bed—he’ll empty it out later—shakes out the dust and dried ectoplasm from his hair and transforms. Snatching a hoodie off his chair, he fires a harmless ectoblast at his radio on his way out the door, cutting off the music he put on to make it seem like he was home.

He hops down the stairs, tugging the sleeves of his hoodie over his split knuckles, and pauses on his way to the kitchen. Just like yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that, Dash sits cross-legged in front of the coffee table. His homework is spread out before him, a textbook at his elbow, a pencil in his hand, and a frown on his face.

Jazz sits on the couch holding an identical textbook—Danny’s copy, he recognizes thebloodstain on the spine—and quietly talks Dash through a lesson on cellular development.

Despite coming home to a similar scene four days in a row, it’s still so bizarre thathe stares too long and Jazz catches him watching.

“Did you do your homework?” Jazz asks. The unspoken before ghost hunting lingers between them.

“No.”

“Liar.”

“Fine. I’m going to do it now,” he says.

“You’re still lying,” Jazz singsongs. She slips a page in Danny’s textbook and glances up at him. “You need to keep your grades up if you want to keep…”

She glances at Dash, who’s pencil has stopped moving and is sitting oddly still.

“… making friends. After school.”

“Making friends.” Danny raises an eyebrow at her. He wishes that’s what he was doing after school. It’d be a hell of a lot kinder on his bones.

Jazz flushes but refuses to be cowed. “Get your stuff, you’re working in here.”

Danny tips his head back, groaning, and heads back upstairs to get his backpack.

—

Danny hasn’t touched his homework in five minutes. He gnaws on the end of his pencil,the metal band squishing between his teeth, flicking the eraser with his tongue to make the pencil swing back and forth. Every few seconds, Jazz sends him an admonishing look over the top of Danny’s textbook.

“That’s not working,” she says.

“I’m contemplating the philosophic implications of my assignment,” Danny says.

Jazz doesn’t look impressed.

Danny doesn’t really blame her. His chin is resting on a math textbook.

“It’s important,” he says. “How can I figure out how many pounds of fudge Anabelle has leftover without first considering why she has it? Or where she got it from? Or what the hell a triangle has to do with it?”

Maybe she’s a distant relative of their father’s.

Jazz rolls her eyes and leans over Dash’s shoulder, scanning the questions he’s working on.

“This one’s wrong,” she says, pointing halfway down the page.

Dash huffs, scowling, and furiously erases his answer.

It fascinates Danny. He’s never seen Dash so focused on something that didn’t involve a football or beating Danny up. Not to mention the glasses. Since when does Dash have glasses? They’ve been in the same class since kindergarten and he’s never seen them before.

Not to mention, Dash hasn’t insulted Danny once since he sat down on the other side of the table. Maybe Dash got hit in the head by a stray ectoblast when Kitty showed up during gym class.

Danny spits his pencil out of his mouth, ignoring the disgusted look Jazz gives him,and says, “I thought you already proved you could tutor the ‘untutorable.’”

“I did,” Jazz says. Shaking her long sleeve out over her hand, she reaches out and swats Danny’s pencil back toward him. “I thought you were being philosophical about brownies.”

“Fudge,” Danny corrects her. “And I decided the Fenton appetite is beyond the comprehension of even the greatest philosophers.”

“Anabelle’s a Fenton now?”

“My favourite cousin.”

“Uh-huh.” Jazz closes her borrowed textbook and sets it down on the cushion beside her, folding her hands in her lap. “If you aren’t going to do your work you can just–”

“Jazz!” Their mother’s voice echoes up the basement stairs. “Can you come downhere for a moment?”

Jazz sighs but gets up without a fuss. She points at Danny before heading downstairsand says, “Be nice. Don’t distract my student.”

“Me? But he's­– wait, your student?”

Jazz turns away, leaving Danny sputtering and alone with Dash.

It takes Danny a moment to compose himself. When he does, he shoves his homeworkaside, slams his hand on the table, and leans across it into Dash’s personal space.

“Okay, what the hell, why do you keeping coming here?” Danny asks. “Are you hitting on my sister again? Because she already said no, don’t be a creep. I sent the last guy who messed with her to the Ghost Zone.”

Rather than leaning away, Dash gets in Danny’s face and sneers. “Chill out, Fenturd, don’t be an ass.”

“If you're–”

“I said chill out.” Dash shoves Danny’s face away. “You’re sister’s pretty smart, okay? And I need help with science.”

“You really think I’m gonna believe that?” Danny sits back and crosses his arms. Like hell. He remembers how gross Dash was hitting on his sister in ninth grade. Two years was not long enough to recover from that emotional travesty.

“I’m failing the class, okay?” Dash snaps, cheeks red. “I gotta pull my grade up to a C or else I’m off the football team.”

“Oh.” The fight goes out of Danny pretty quickly. He scratches his head and looksaway. “Okay, whatever. My grades aren’t that great either.”

“Yeah, but you’re a loser.”

“Seriously?” Danny glares across the table. “You can’t be civil for two seconds? I wastrying to be nice or whatever, but if you’re just gonna be an ass about it, fine. Wonder how you’re friends’d react to that.”

Dash wrinkles his nose. “What? They already know.”

“And they didn’t kick you out of your little club?” Danny asks flippantly.

“You think we’re that shallow?”

Danny stares at Dash. He can’t be serious. He can’t be that oblivious. All the A-listers care about are looks, money, and popularity, and Danny knows that firsthand.

“I bet Valerie does.”

Dash at least has the mind to look ashamed, and Danny feels a little vindicated at the sight of his downturned eyes.

“You guys were pretty damn cruel to her after she lost all her money. Are you telling me that wasn’t shallow?” Danny asks smugly.

“Like you’re so great, Fenton.”

“A hell of a lot better than you.”

Dash laughs. It’s loud and mocking, and he throws his head back as he does it. “Oh my god. You know how many times I’ve seen you brush off those friends of yours? Didn’t you, like, ditch them to go to a party freshman year? And you replaced them with robots once.”

“Hey, there was more going on there!” Danny defends himself. He doesn’t even know how Dash heard about the robots, but there was more to it, a ghost that could make you greedy.

Danny took care of it pretty quickly once he realized what was up, although that didn’t stop him from feeling like a massive jerk afterwards. But at least he didn’t mean it, and he knew he was a bad friend at that time.

“I don’t think you realize how much I don’t give a shit,” Dash says. “Just leave me alone, Fenton. And if you tell anyone besides my friends about this, I’ll shove you in so many lockers.”

Danny scowls. “Fine. Don’t flirt with my sister though.”

“No problems there. I’m not into girls.”

It takes Danny a second to process that. “Huh.”

“You got a problem with that?”

“What? No. Like, pretty much everyone I’m friends with is in the queer community,myself included. I thought you liked Paulina. And, you know, you flirted with my sister? And pretty much every single cheerleader.” Danny thinks back, trying to remember if there were any hints. Dash used to flirt with girls a lot, but he can’t actually remember him hitting on anyone in the past year. “You know what that is? Growth.”

“Don’t quote gifs at me, loser.” There’s less bite in Dash’s insult and more resignation. The sound of a man who will put up with what he hates for something he needs.

Danny almost smiles. Almost. Dash is still a massive dick, but Danny hates him a little less than usual right now, if only because he isn’t trying to get with Jazz after all.

They fall silent, Dash returning to his work while Danny just sits there and thinks. He glances toward the stairs once, wondering what’s taking Jazz so long, but doesn’t totally mind it. Being alone with Dash isn’t as horrible as he thought it’d be.

He gets bored pretty damn quickly though.

“Okay, the glasses, you have to tell me,” Danny says.

Dash groans, closing his notebook. “They’re glasses. I wear them and stuff gets less blurry. Fascinating.”

“Yeah, but I mean!” Danny waves his arms in a meaningless gesture. “Since when do you have them?”

“Since I got them.”

“Oh my god, I hate you.”

“Feeling’s mutual.”

“I’d call you a sap, but I think you’d punch me for it,” Danny quips, unable to resist.

“I’d call you a loser, but it’s redundant.”

“I can’t believe you know what redundant means.”

Dash glares at Danny. Normally that look makes Danny nervous, because it’s usually followed by a punch to the got or some other, equally painful retribution, but right now Danny’s actually enjoying himself and Dash doesn’t look like he’s about to snap.

“Quick, write the word down before you forget it,” Danny says, tapping Dash’s notebook.

“Shut up, you moron.” Dash swats Danny’s hand with his pencil.

“Oh no, you’re backsliding. Write it fast.”

“Shut up!”

“Want some help? Here, r-e-t-”

“You are such a fucking idiot.”

Danny beams. “I’d call you an imbecile, but I think that’d be cruel since you probably can’t spell it.”

“I swear to god, Fenton.”

“Hey, don’t be mean to my brother!”

Danny ducks his head to hide the shit-eating grin on his face as Jazz returns. She’s glaring at Dash, who sputters as he tries to defend himself, and Danny silently vows to join them for tomorrow’s study session, too, if this is what it’s going to be like.

[ladyideal]

Piece of Cake

Pairing: McKirk x Reader

Word Count: 2335

Requested by: @cuddlememerrick​ “Alright so idea since you said you need some! Mckirk/reader one of them has been having a bad week and the other two plan  a relaxing night for them, cook their favorite meal, ready their favorite movies etc. Just need some fluff with my two boys.”

Warnings: Cursing (still), mention of explosions and sickness, mostly fluff really

Summary: An explosion happens down in Engineering. You almost cry as your day off disappears into a week of hell and fixing up the ship. Worried, Jim and Leonard convinces threatens you to take the day off after several days have past since the accident. At the end, you spent your night with your two best boyfriends.

A/n: so yay first request. I’ll probably just keep requests open for an indefinite time and finish them slowly. Also giving McKirk x reader some good lovin at 4am. I should get to bed. 

(credit gif to owner)

Placing you comm on your nightstand, you snuggled under the covers. It was only 10 at night, but Scotty had let you go early. There weren't many work orders, and the ensigns could cover what was left on the list. You weren’t going to say no at the prospect of leaving work early, especially when you finally had a day off the next day. 

Some of the Engineers were off sick, but you and Scotty still made it work. As Scotty’s unofficial second, you covered Beta and the occasional Gamma shift, but you were proud of how far you’ve come. In just two years abroad the Enterprise, you’d not only make it to Lieutenant Commander, but somehow had two loving boyfriends and a wonderful job on the flagship of the fleet. You had the dream of what many yearned for.

You knew that both Len and Jim were still at their offices, finishing up their reports. Granted you had your fair share of reports to catch up on, but for now, you could care less. You’d thought of waiting up for them, but you’d figured you could get some early shut eye. Hopefully now, Jim could stop complaining about your lack of sleep. A day off was a day off. On that note, you drifted off into a nap.

Chirp.

Chirp.

You groaned, reluctantly sticking your hand out from under the covers to blindly search around for your comm. Once finding it, you flipped it open.

“Y/L/N,” You slurred groggily, eyeing blearily at the chrom.

It was midnight.

Dammit. 

“Lassie! Where are you?” Scotty’s voice answered. The urgency and panic in his voice instantly raised your concern, and you grudgingly sat up. 

“Scotty, I’m in bed. What happened?”

“Lass, are ya dead to the world? Ensign Reol snapped the wrong wire, the consoles blew, and the right turbine is in pieces. I cannae get this done myself. Get down here.”

“Shit,” you cursed, scrambling out of bed. “I’m on my way.”

Swiftly, you put on your uniform and tied your boots up. In a last attempt to make yourself decent for work, you threw your hair into a messy ponytail. Without another glance, you hurriedly grabbed your kit and comm, and rushed out of the door. 

You hurried into a turbolift, forcefully keying in your destination. As you waited, you tapped your foot while sorting through your kit full of tools. You’d gotten only two hours of sleep, and you were already back to work again. Grabbing your comm out, you blinked your eyes at the amount of messages you received.

Thirty messages from three panicking people. Jim, Len, and Scotty, of course.

You skimmed through them, noticing that Jim’s last message was a threat saying that if you didn’t reply back on your whereabouts, he was going to send a search party. That message was sent ten minutes ago. With a frown, you sent both Len and the Captain saying that you were fine, and on the way down to Engineering to see what was going on.

Almost immediately, both replied.

“For god’s sake, you red shirts just love danger.” - L

“No search party this time, Y/N.” - J

You grinned, but clipped your comm back. When the doors open, you hurried out.

“What the hell,” You slid beside to Scotty’s side, watching the billows of inky jet black smoke obscuring the rest of the engine room. There were pieces of shrapnel littering the ground in front, and plenty of black soot to go around. An unpleasant smell of burnt plastic wafted up from the lower levels to the top. If you squinted your eyes hard enough, you could make out the charred remains of what was left of several consoles laying couple yards away. 

“Turbine flew off when the consoles blew, lass,” Scotty pointed. “Had to manually drop her out of warp.”

“Everyone okay?” You rubbed your eyes tiredly with the back of your hand. “It looks pretty bad.”

You knew from past experiences that Leonard was going to have yet another fit towards the incompetence of engineers. At least this time, you weren’t the one hurt. 

“I’m afraid not, lassie,” Scotty grimaced. “Medical got them out after the sprinklers started.”

“Who’s left?”

“Not many.”

You glanced at him, and turned back to the chaos in front of you. Squeezing your eyes shut briefly, you pinched the bridge of your nose. This could not be happening right now, right on the eve of your day off. You let out a resigned sigh, and opened your eyes again. 

“I go take a look at the wires, and you go see what’s left of that right turbine?” You suggested, looking over at your superior grimly.

“Aye, lass.”

Unfortunately, that was how your week started. It was going to be one long horrible week for sure. 

With a good portion of your engineers injured or still sick, you and Scotty were spread thin across all three shifts. Leaving you with no other choice, each day you spent working with the Chief Engineer on the Beta and Gamma shift. You directed the other Engineers to leave the non immediate work orders for later, and to jimmy together what was left of the consoles in order for the ship to be able to reach the next Federation outpost.

You waved to Scotty on your way down from the stairs to sign in, which he only acknowledged with a nod from up above. Sixteen hour work days were starting to take a toll on your already exhausted mind and body. However, you had a feeling that Scotty didn’t get too sleep much either.

Hell, at this rate you could probably twine wires and solder them together in your sleep now.

Both Jim and Leonard had both tried to get to you to get more sleep, but you shook them off, saying that there weren’t enough hands to fix the damn ship. The latter had already threatened his usual medical leave on you, but this time you’d thanked him and shook your head. The Captain didn’t dare try forcing you to take a day off. He knew better, as eventually you would just sneak back to Engineering and continue working.

“Bones, have you seen Y/N at all this week?” Jim frowned into his glass of bourbon. 

“Only when Y/N and I passed by in our room. Y/N went to sleep, and I went in for Alpha,” Leonard didn’t bother looking up from his PADD, doing his best to ignore the blonde putting his feet up on the armrest. “Feet off the furniture, Jim.”

Jim pouted, but pressed on. “Do you think we should cheer Y/N up? You cook dinner, and I’ll find some holos to watch? You know that Y/N loves it when you cook. No replicator can do your cooking justice.”

The doctor grunted, eyeing his captain as though he was weighing the odds of cheering you up with his food. “If you find another musical, Jim, I swear I’ll put you in for another physical.”

~

“Afternoon, Scotty,” You shouted, half as a greeting and the other half as a homing beacon. You could never really know where the Chief Engineer could be lurking around at any given time. He was almost everywhere, and nowhere at the same time. 

“Afternoon, Y/N,” Your superior called tiredly from above, hanging from a rope to fix the tubes. “What number are ya on?”

“Six,” You answered, sipping your coffee as you signed in with one hand. It was your sixth back to back Beta and Gamma shifts, and you were really feeling the exhaustion creeping in. 

“Six?! For god’s sake, you shoulda take a break, lass,” Scotty continued. “Ya know that, McCoy ain’t happy with me keeping you here all day long.”

You snorted loudly, sifting through the work orders. As many were still down in Medbay, you had taken up a couple of ensign jobs to help lighten up the load. “He will live. Where do you need me?”

It was three hours in when your communicator buzzed.

Setting your screwdriver on a nearby Jefferies tube, you flipped it open.

“Y/L/N.”

“Y/N. Jim and I are worried about you, sweetheart. You can use the break, and come eat with us over dinner. Jim has a surprise for you,” Leonard’s voice came through.

“Len, I appreciate it, but right now-,” You paused, swearing when your screwdriver teetered and fell. “Scotty, be nice and throw me your wrench? I can’t seem to find mine.”

“Throwing wrenches?” Came a now very concerned doctor. “Why the hell are you throwing wrenches around?”

“Aye, swing over and I’ll hand it over.”

You pushed off from the tube that you were stationed above and gently swung down to meet Scotty. 

“Y/N , why do I hear wind? Are you above the Jefferies again?” Leonard continued. “Dammit women, what did I say about going up there?”

“That I’ll one day fall to my death,” You smirked, thanking Scotty with a nod.

“I’m coming down there to fetch you,” The doctor decided for you. “Don’t get into anymore trouble.”

“No promises, love.”

Regardless, you continued working. Oh no, you couldn’t leave Scotty here on his own to fix the rest of the damage from the earlier blast. With the amount of work still to be done, there was no way you would be retiring for the night. 

“Y/N, did you even hear a word of what I just said?” A familiar southern accent drew your attention from down below you.

“Yes, but-.”

“ Sweetheart, you’re exhausted. Both Scotty and Jim have said it was alright for you to take the rest of the day off.” 

Despite the earlier protest that you were fine, you yawned. It was true that the lack of sleep and food and even water was getting to you. Occasionally, you’d caught yourself nodding off. If it weren’t for the fact that you were safely suspended on a length of rope, you’d probably fall and hit your head on the way down. 

“I’m fine, Len. Just save me some food?” You ventured a glance downward in time to watch his brows furrow.

“Don’t make me do it, darlin’. Jim and I are just looking out for you.You can’t be a good engineer if you keep messing up, and dropping things. You’re tired, let us take care of you.”

‘It’ was the medical leave. Leonard had threatened the usage earlier, but you didn’t, as per usual, paid any attention. 

“Get some sleep, lass,” Scotty’s voice carried from a couple yards away. “I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

With three people up your ass, you finally relented. 

“Fine, fine,” You grumbled reluctantly, sticking the rest of your tools into your kit, and slowly lowering yourself back down onto solid ground. 

When your feet made contact with the floor, you unbuckled yourself from the rope, and turned to Leonard.

“Happy now?” You huffed out, wobbling unsteadily towards him.

“Getting there,” The doctor responded, enveloping you in a hug and placing a light kiss on your lips. “I’ve cooked us some dinner, Jim has a surprise, and then we can snuggle up together on the couch. What do you say to that?”

You hummed in content, kissing him back as your eyes closed. With the promise of more concerted kisses, you were looking forward to the dinner. “I would like that. It would make up for the hell that was this week.”

“JESUS, MARY, AND JOSEPH. WILL YA TWO FIND ANOTHER PLACE TO KISS!?” A very irritated sounding Scotty shouted from above. 

“We should leave, sweetheart,” Leonard grinned, his trademark smirk back again. You nodded in agreement.

“PLEASE!”

With a chuckle, the two of you made your way back towards your quarters.

After some homemade fried chicken, green beans, and a generous heaping of mashed potatoes and gravy, you had to grudgingly admit that Leonard was right in coercing you to take a break. The food and the company really brightened your spirits up after a long hell of a week. 

“You were right, Leonard. The food was what I really needed,” You leaned back into your chair.

“That’s not all!” Jim hurried out of his chair, almost knocking the poor thing over in his hurry to reach the kitchen.

You glanced over at the doctor for some context, but only received a shrug in return. You deduced that this was going to be Jim���s surprise.

“Ta da da da,” Jim emerged back with a cake in his hands. 

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. Jim wasn’t a baker after all.

“How did you-?” You couldn’t find the words to finish your question.

“I might have had some help in taste testing and baking it,” Jim replied with a sheepish grin. 

You laughed, appreciating the work from both your boyfriends. “Thank you.”

“Come, darlin’” Leonard stood up. “We can eat it while we watch some holos that Jim picked out for you. He also swore that there wouldn’t be any musicals.”

You beamed at both Jim and Leonard, and nodded.

While Jim went off in search of plates and forks, you and Leonard settled comfortably on the couch, leaving a space for Jim to later sit in. 

“Feet up,” The doctor requested, and you obliged with a grin.

“How about some Western? Nyota said this one was a classic,” Jim grabbed the remote as he sat on your left after planting an affectionate kiss on your cheek.

“Sure,” You smiled, purring happily on his shoulder as Leonard idly stroked your shins and ankles. With the holo on, Jim slightly maneuvered you around till your back was to him. You groaned out loud as he started massaging your shoulders, and kneading out the knots with expert hands. 

While the week might have been beyond hellish, you could always count on both Leonard and Jim to make even the worst of days better. For that, you were forever grateful for your two very loving boyfriends.

ST Tags: @mournthewicked​ (if you want to be tagged in future star trek fics, let me know)

[missbugaboo]

That Other Guy (8)

“Why does it matter so much to you? What’s so terrible about Adrien Agreste that you can’t stand him as your competition – even though it changes absolutely nothing for you? What in magic’s name makes him such a hateful rival?” Or, Chat Noir finally learns who Ladybug’s dream guy is, but somehow, he’s not pleased at all. For more reasons than one.

LadyNoir, Adrienette.

fanfiction.net / AO3

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Chapter 8: An Assault

Now, there were few things Adrien was ready for, when he left the locker room at last and headed towards the stairs that led to Miss Bustier's classroom.

First, after the disastrous photo shoot that morning, he knew better than to pretend to be completely alright – he was well aware that he'd looked like a shadow of his usual self ever since he'd first got up that day, as well as he must have looked about a dozen times worse after the conversation he'd just had with Plagg. For that reason, he was perfectly prepared for the questions considering his well-being and so when Nathaniel treated him with one, he smiled reassuringly and replied that it was all due to a rather tough, sleepless night.

So yeah, that was one.

He also realised – that was the second, much more anxiety-causing thing – that he would have to face Marinette as soon as he stepped over the classroom's threshold, as she usually stayed inside during the breaks, unless of course she was bound to change rooms. The thought of seeing her for the first time since last night still made his head spin; yet even though he still had no idea what to say to her or how to behave, he at least knew what level of emotionality he'd be in when they'd finally meet face to face.

He didn't know if he'd be sad or angry or maybe even relieved by the sight of her: she'd always been too unpredictable, as was the effect she'd always had on him, be it intentional or not. The only thing he could be certain of was that the encounter was sure as hell going to leave him confused.

It wasn't much, but at least it was something.

What he had not expected however, was being ambushed by a furious Alya the moment his foot had moved away from the final step of the stairs as she pinned him to the railing with her arms set firmly on both sides of him. His eyes widened in shock and then grew wider still when he met her vicious glare – and not even the arrival of Nino a second later was enough to make him calm down.

Quite frankly, at the moment he was sure his heart would jump out of his chest or maybe stop beating altogether, no matter how many Ninos came to help him out.

Sweet miraculous, what was Alya's problem with him now?

"Babe, let the dude breathe, okay?" he heard his best friend mutter as he came close to them and put his hand on one of his girlfriend's. "He's on the verge of a heart attack, you keep him locked like that and he'll collapse right into your arms. Or right under your feet, perhaps, since judging by your expression, I doubt you'd like to actually catch him."

"You bet I wouldn't," Alya drawled, pushing his hand away and then grasping the rail tightly again. "Not until I know for sure that he's got nothing to do with this. Or until he spills the beans and admit that he does as I believe it's more probable, and then proves that he can fix it."

She shifted her eyes back to Adrien. "And I don't mean a simple 'I'm sorry', Agreste."

Again, before Adrien could as much as open his mouth, he was cut off by Nino coming to his defence.

"She told you it's not his fault," the latter said with a weary sigh. "I think you should at least consider Marinette's opinion on the subject before you avenge her and hurt someone who's not even the main suspect of the crime, and much against Marinette's will."

"Well, you can believe that crap if you wish, but I'm not buying it," Alya retorted. "It's obvious she was hiding something, given the way she was and since she did mention that the heartless idiot who'd made her so was in fact 'her best friend', the chance that it had to do with the sunshine boy here is more than fat. Even if Marinette claims otherwise."

"Well, that's a nice way of viewing evidence," Adrien managed to break in at last, feeling the anger rise in him once more; he wasn't sure if it was Alya or Marinette (again) he was vexed with, but that he would determine later. "I suppose it doesn't matter what I have got to say about all this, either?"

Alya's eyes narrowed in concentration. "So you do know what I'm talking about."

"I have no idea," he corrected her. "All I know is that you're furious with me for some reason and that it is connected to Marinette and myself in some way, but at the same time, you're clearly not interested in what either of us has to say about the subject. So if you were so kind as to at least tell me what the heck it's all about, that would be wildly appreciated."

He saw the look of astonishment reflect on the countenances of both oh his friends and realised that it was probably the first time when he had ever spoken to them as harshly - and as coldly – as he'd done just now.

Somehow, the sight made him swell with satisfaction.

Guess it's really not Marinette I'm angry with, after all.

"So?" he picked up, seeing that he was not going to receive an answer without another push on his part. "Are you going to explain why you've assaulted me like that or will we just stay like this until Miss Bustier drags us back to class?"

With an angry huff, Alya surrendered to his wish and let go of the rail, before stepping back. As if sensing the potential danger, Nino wrapped his arm around her shoulders and nodded at Adrien reassuringly.

The other boy smiled and returned the nod, relieved. It was good to know that someone was on his side in all this, whatever it actually was.

Even though he certainly did have an idea as to what might be the issue here.

He simply couldn't let them know that he did.

"Thank you," he said calmly, even though he knew it was nothing but a sham; if he hadn't been relaxed on that rooftop he could hardly be expected to feel serene now? "Now, would you please tell me what's going on in here? Why is Nino talking about 'avenging Marinette' and how is it the reason for you to be angry with me? And first and foremost: where is Marinette?"

Again, he had to wait for their answer, unless he was to count Alya's annoyed yet somehow resigned sigh and Nino's tightened jaw as one. All of the sudden he thought that the matter might be a whole lot more serious, despite the rather childish display he'd just been treated with.

If the last night's event had taken such a great toll on him...

...could Marinette be as affected by it as well?

No, definitely not as much, he tried to convince himself quietly. Of course she would take some of it too heart, she's not some kind of an unfeeling mutant; she's the opposite of that. Still, our argument can hardly compare to all the things I've had to face and accept since we parted, so surely, it can't be that bad.

Right?

"She's not at school," he was snatched from his meditation when Alya finally decided to share her information with him. "She came in the morning and pretended to be alright, except we all saw that she wasn't. So Miss Bustier sent her back home."

"Just like that?" Adrien asked instantly. "I mean... Your reaction from earlier suggests there was much more to it. Like you two have actually had a chance to talk."

"We did," Alya confirmed. "Or more like, I tried to talk to her while she kept dodging it, feigning good spirits and refusing to answer my questions."

"Have you attacked her in the same way you did me just now? Cause I think that might explain her reluctance."

Alya's glare became murderous again. "Of course I didn't, stupid. I was as discreet as possible and only asked about most basic things. Like you know, why did she had those dark bags under her eyes or why her hands were trembling all the time. Stuff like that."

"Look, dude, I know my girl can be pushy sometimes," Nino supplied readily. "But it was not the case this time. Those inquiries were what we would have asked her on any other day – the difference was in how Marinette responded to them."

Alya let out another sigh, one that was much less warlike this time. "When I asked her, I fully expected her to shrug and then complain about another all-nighter she'd pulled off because of a new idea for a design. Or maybe to say that she'd fallen asleep over homework, or a book, or maybe had just lost herself in daydreams for too long last evening and gone to bed late as a result. Normal Marinette stuff. Instead, I got clenched fists and teary eyes and that was long before she actually broke down."

Now Adrien's heart seemed to stop for real.

"Broke... down?"

"You really don't know anything, do you?" Alya's gaze was full of genuine surprise now. She shook her head adamantly. "Okay, so maybe I have jumped to conclusions too fast. The thing is, I'm really worried about her and since she wouldn't speak openly, I was left wondering. And you are one of her closest friends so if you had hurt her... She would've been devastated by it. Just like she was today."

"But why?" Adrien asked again, desperately. "And how can you know all that if she left as soon as you said she did? She's always late for class, so you couldn't have talked much before -"

"She didn't leave at once," Nino explained. "She got to school a few minutes before eight and hardly spoke to anyone. We noticed she wasn't fully herself, but as Al said, we blamed it on the lack of sleep, because we all know it happens to her a lot. That is, until Alya did ask her and Marinette began to avoid the questions she'd asked."

Alya nodded in confirmation. "It went on for three long hours, both in class and in between... and then on the third break she lost it. No sign, no warning. She just crumbled down, turned into a crying, suffocating mess. It was horrible."

"Yeah. it was."

For the umpteenth time in the last fourteen hours Adrien felt an infinite, mind-boggling, absolutely devastating terror come over him. The idea of Marinette being so unwell that it could be referred to as crumbling down and a suffocating mess would have been enough to make his inside twist on its own, without the extra confirmation in the looks Alya and Nino wore while telling him about it. Those two things mixed and additionally supported by the memory of Alya's most recent attack and rage...

Good Heaven, he needed some answers.

And now.

"Guys, I need details," he forced his mouth to say even though the rest of his body seemed inches away from falling apart in the same way that Marinette's had. "Tell me what it was. How she looked, what she said. Especially what she said."

Alya and Nino exchanged looks and for a second, Adrien was sure that they would decide he was not worthy of being entrusted with the knowledge he so craved. He couldn't blame them if they had – yet at the same time, he begged God that they would be generous this time.

He had to know now.

"Alright, so basically, she'd been gloomy from the start, but we've already told you that," Alya began after a while and Adrien was ready to kiss her in thanks. "Again, it appeared to be a simple exhaustion and that's what we took it for. Then Marinette got all weird about it though, yada yada yada... and then I decided to confront her. Probably not the best of my moves but it still seemed like a better idea than letting her go through that whole ordeal alone, whatever it was.

"So I dragged her to the bathroom and made sure no one was there to overhear us. I asked some more questions, Marinette dodged each and every one of them. She kept doing that... until I asked her if it had anything to do with you.

"That's why I was so sure it was you who'd hurt her," she picked up after a pause, during which Adrien was certain he would die of guilt and shame before Alya might decide to speak again. "As soon as I pronounced your name she burst into tears. She was on her knees a moment later, trying desperately to calm down again but failing completely... And then all of a sudden she began to tell me how it was not your fault at all."

"She did?" Adrien whispered, his own eyes beginning to sting. He blinked rapidly, hoping his friends had not noticed the change in him, although at the same time he was beginning to realise that he hardly cared if they had. "I mean, it's good to know I haven't done something unintentionally..."

Gosh, what an idiot he was. What a perfect, absolute moron.

What a damn jerk.

Of course it was him who'd done it, on both sides of the mask.

As if to confirm his thesis, Alya added, "She said it was another friend of hers, someone we don't know but who, apparently, means a great deal to her. She said they'd argued on the previous eve and that it'd been rougher than ever before, and that it had kept her awake for half of the night even though she'd managed to fall asleep without much trouble at first. She mentioned something about it being her fault but then contradicted herself and cried that it was not her fault at all, but that it was still so hard and confusing and that it hurt so much to have him think badly of her...

"I don't know, Adrien," she concluded with yet another sigh. "Quite frankly, I got lost after about fifteen seconds into her monologue. But I do know this: whoever that scoundrel is, he'd hurt my best friend in a way no one ever had before. And I can't just forgive that."

Adrien could swear his legs were turning to jelly right there and then.

"Was it really that bad?" he managed to ask, his voice barely above whisper. "Could it really have been the worst you've seen? I don't want to deem it unimportant or say that you're hyperbolising, only that -"

"Adrien," Nino cut off unexpectedly. "Remember when Marinette broke up with Luka last year and we found her crying in the park?"

Adrien's face turned pale as a sheet.

"I do," he stammered, appalled. "Of course I do."

"It was worse. And I only saw her after she'd left the bathroom."

All of the sudden, his mind was made up. He wasn't sure why or how, except that the image of Marinette's ugly crying – the image he remembered so well from all those months ago, now intensified tenfold by Nino's words and his own shattering feeling of guilt – had a major role in deciding that. That image itself would have been enough to make him crack; now it was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back.

Coward or not, ready or not, he could no longer stay and pretend that things would somehow fix themselves on their own. There was no miraculous cure – except for the work he might still do.

No matter how horribly impossible the task still seemed in his eyes.

"Bro? You're alright?"

"I'm sorry guys," he replied automatically, shifting his gaze back to the pair before him. "I can't stay. If things really are as bad as you say they are... I just need to talk to Marinette and as soon as I can. She probably won't let me in; she's been through hell and back and unwanted company is probably the last thing she needs. But... but I believe I may be of some help if she does."

Alya raised an eyebrow at him, mistrust painted all over her face. "No offence Agreste, but why should you be the one able to help her out now?"

"Because I know the bastard who'd hurt her."

[shadequeen712]

Love the Stars Chapter 2: Rainbows are Real

Pairing: playboy!Dean x OC

Genre: nightclub au

Warnings: angst, depression

The next time I worked, he wasn't there. Things became normal again, the cycle went on, and I resumed the role of the silent spectator as I have been for so long.

My life was progressing exactly the same, which is to say it wasn't progressing at all. I was still stuck in the same run-down club serving the same sad souls. My family still believed that I was in the film scene; that I was working for some famous producer and making a name for myself here in L.A. The only thing I was making for myself was a pool of self-pity to bathe in. I had been lying to my family for years, too embarrassed to tell anyone that my dream had not amounted to much of anything. Meanwhile, I was stuck in a hopeless place watching people more fucked up than I was waste their lives away. But at least, as a constellation prize, the sun still rises every morning and sets every evening.

If being an adult teaches you anything, it's that self-pity does not create miracles. It is only a way to cope with life. Nothing more or less. But that doesn't keep me from drowning in it daily.

Like now for instance, as I observe yet another classic pick up of a woman in this club. The man is somewhat decent-looking, but he lacks the nervous ticks of someone who is looking for a serious relationship. Instead he is too smooth and practiced, as if talking to girls is a routine for him. And it is, because last week he was doing the same to a younger woman with bigger boobs and a tighter dress. He must be trying to go for the innocent type this time, because this girl is starry-eyed and clearly too dumb to recognize his game. 

I looked away, not keen on seeing another victim in the making. Just as I was contemplating organizing the drinks behind the bar someone walked up and sat down. It was the man from before, this time in a pressed red suit that had no shirt underneath. For a second I just couldn't keep the look of disgust off my face, and per my luck, that was the exact moment he happened to look at me. 

Well shit, was all I could think as he waved me over, his eyes expressive and blank at the same time. I approached him, trying to give him my nicest 'customer service' expression, expecting the worst. But he only said, "I'll take a vodka straight," just like the last time and nothing more. 

I had his drink ready faster than the last time, trying to escape from his line of sight. But clearly he wanted to talk to me this time, as more words left his mouth. 

"You ever been in love, Renee?" He said, his accent showing but not so much that I couldn't understand him. I wish that I couldn't understand the question that he asked, because I didn't have much of an answer for it. Love? What love could come from a world without romance? Why would I have ever been in love? 

I settled on a simple, "No, not really," and left it at that. Except he wasn't done, clearly. 

"You should try it some time. It really shows who you are as a person," he continued. "How you treat someone after being with them for so long, how you change overtime into someone unrecognizable, it's very informative. I think everyone should experience love at least once." 

I was grappling for a response. The other night I was practically begging for him to speak to me, and now I was deeply regretting the thought. "I'm not sure why you think so. I mean, isn't it better to fantasize about love than to go through heartbreak? Aren't you sad after being with someone for so long and then leaving them? It doesn't seem like a good experience to me," I disagreed.

He sipped his drink, quirking his lips into the tiniest of smiles. "I never said it was a good experience. I just said it was an experience that everyone should have. Not everything in life can be rainbows, can it?" 

Well put. I somehow wanted to prove him wrong, so I found myself replying, "But rainbows still exist, don't they?" 

He chuckled darkly, somehow finding my statement amusing. But I wasn't joking in the slightest. He did know that the sun could still shine, right?

Before we could continue the debate we were having, a man approached him from behind much like the woman from the other night. 

"Excuse me, but are you the guy my wife has been seeing? She said you would be easy to recognize," the older man said in a small voice. He seemed like he wanted to be anywhere else but here, confronting his wife's lover. I could clearly see the woman from the other time, this time in a slim-fitting tan dress, watching approvingly. I guessed that this was some form of revenge for being left after a one night stand.

Yeah, one night stands were a messy business. They leave you unsatisfied and hurt, as if you took a drug that didn't quite get you high, instead leaving you with a pounding headache and no buzz. 

I wondered how he would handle this situation. Surely he had encountered it before? 

He was still silently sipping his drink when the man tapped his shoulder harshly. It caused him to spill a small portion of the vodka onto his nicely tailored suit. 

Very calmly, he put the glass down, turning to finally look the older man directly in the eyes. No words were exchanged verbally, but I know the power of eyes. 

The older man seemed distraught at the message he was getting, turning to look at his wife for guidance. She seemed angry that he had even backed down for a second. She motioned between the two furiously, telling him to resume the confrontation. 

"Look man, I don't appreciate you sleeping with my wife the way you did. I think an apology would be fine for her-" 

"Apologize for what exactly?" The younger man finally cut in. "For her wounded pride? Or for her infidelity? I'm not sure which one matters more." 

I raised both my eyebrows at that. The older man looked a bit flustered, but his anger was flaring. "Are you insinuating that my wife is at fault? Regardless of whether she approached you or not, the first question you should have asked was, are you married? Are you in a relationship of any kind? What kind of scumbag just sleeps with a woman when she's drunk out of her mind?"

The younger man let that sink in, nodding. "So what you're telling me is, though your wife willingly came here, drank herself into a stupor and approached me desperately a couple nights ago, I'm at fault for not knowing she was married? Do you not think she's at fault for cheating on her husband in the first place? Did it ever occur to you that I could be the victim, that I was drunk and in a bad place, and that I was in no condition to turn her down?"

I was called over to a few more customers for orders. I served them their drinks and apologized for being careless. I let them have wings on the house to make up for it.

I was slacking on the job, all because I was too interested in this boy whose name I didn't know. He was just a club victim like the rest, no different at all. He was the embodiment of hopelessness. He came here because he had already given up, and had resigned himself to be a part of the only crowd that would accept him. Now he was being attacked by a woman's husband after his first night stand. He had terrible luck, if nothing else. 

By the time I got through serving the other customers, the husband and wife had already left the club, and the young man in the soiled red suit sat watching my every move. He was still sipping on the vodka, but he seemed more animated now, as if the fight had lit up his life a little. Like he craved it or something. 

The look in his eyes brought me back over to him, and prompted me to ask, "What happened?" 

He shrugged. "He left. Looks like trouble in paradise for sure."

"Paradise?" I exclaimed. "That woman cheated on her husband, how the hell is that paradise? That's bullshit." 

He smirked. "Is it? So what is your definition of paradise, Renee?" 

"Ren," I corrected him. "My friends call me Ren." He nodded and motioned for me to go on. 

"My definition is the actual definition of paradise, which is an ideal place to be in. Cheating and drinking and lying is not that ideal place at all," I explained. 

He nodded. "So what is, then? What is the ideal place for you?" 

I paused, finding it odd that he would ask me such personal questions when before he had been so disinterested. What changed? Was I interesting because I argued that rainbows existed or because I was the only girl that had not come on to him yet? 

"Is it hard to answer?" He asked, between sips. "I thought it might be. It doesn't seem like you would know either way." 

I recoiled. "Excuse me?" 

He snorted. "This is probably the most human interaction you've had in years. This will fulfill your love fantasies for weeks I'm sure. 'Oh, he looked at me different than the other girls tonight. There's a sparkle in his eyes that wasn't there before.' Isn't that what you're thinking?" 

I was so offended that I couldn't conjure the words. I was so angry, I just didn't know what to do with myself. What angered me the most is that he was somewhat right. I was thinking that he was looking at me differently, and I was seeing a new light in his eye as he looked at me. Was it because he wanted it this way? Did he want me to think that he wanted me?

He tsked at me. Like I was being a bad girl or something. Like he was my father. "I'm disappointed. I thought you were a sharp one for sure. I guess you're no different then." 

Every word was like a punch to the gut. Seriously? Who was this guy? He thought he knew me? 

I scoffed. "I thought you were different. But you're the same as these horrible men that come here every night, hunting girls to break and use. The only difference is that you were like that to begin with, weren't you? You've always been a major league asshole, and she only just realized it and got away from your crazy ass. Power to her," I retorted, storming away from the bar counter and marching into the women's restroom. 

I stood there in the stall, running through the words of the argument over and over until my head hurt. Then I came out and went back to my station, only to find that he was gone, and there was no time left on my shift. In other words, I was going to be fired. 

So much for rainbows, right?

Chapter 3

[lady-tortilla-chip]

Felt like a good writer...

“You should be sleeping.” Stephen berated softly, a whisper of irritation bogged down by his own grogginess.

“Maybe I prefer just watching you sleep.” Tony argued, smiling slightly.

“Bull.” Stephen breathed, zero bite to the single phrase that only made Tony smile wider.

“What time is it,” Stephen mumbled into his pillow.

“That answer is above your pay grade.” Tony responded.

Stephen cracked an eye open, glancing about the space and the relative darkness that engulfed the room before landing squarely on Tony.

“Tony.”

“Yes, love?” Tony said, voice dripping sugar.

“What time is it,” Stephen asked again, this time more awake as he spoke.

“Two hours short of an early morning.” Tony responded sweetly.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Stephen asked, resigned to the fact that his lover would never sleep nor rise at particularly normal times.

“No...yes. Maybe.” Tony answered, smile faltering.

“Headache?”

“A little tiny one.”

“Were you grinding your teeth?”

“Possibly.”

“Tony,” Stephen sighed.

“Fine, yes. My jaw hurts.”

“What is it?” Stephen asked.

“Not fun.” Tony responded. That got Stephen to properly open both his eyes, displeasure clearly seen despite the darkness.

Huffing an exasperated breath, Stephen sat himself up and without missing a beat deadpanned, “There are beds in Kamar-Taj.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I absolutely would. The beds are far less comfortable and there are no sexy mechanics to cuddle with. But at least I’ll get some sleep.” Stephen said.

Tony made a sound of offense, “Hey, I didn’t wake you up!”

Stephen squinted at him, the action difficult to see but practically felt regardless, “Your thoughts are extremely loud.”

Tony went to respond to that with something that would continue to hold Stephen’s attention away from the fact that Tony had been awake for the better part of the night because of a nightmare. Except, Stephen cut him off before he got even a syllable out.

“Friday, lights.”

Friday complied without a response and Tony recoiled, his eyes burning at the sudden brightness of the room, “Ow, rude.”

Stephen’s brow was raised expectantly and he hadn’t even flinched at the sudden wash of bright light. Asshole.

“You’re fine. What’s bothering you?”

Tony attempted to smile, though it was a clear sign he was about to bullshit, “It’s not a big deal I swear. Besides, we’re going to see Morgan tomorrow! Absolutely no reason to be anything but ecstatic and—,”

“Tony.”

Uh-oh. That was a scary tone of voice and one Stephen usually reserved for his most incompetent students. Tony refused to mess with that.

Huffing Tony said, “Fine,” raising a hand to absently trace at the scars on his neck he continued, “Sometimes I dwell on the shit that’s already happened. It’s really not—,”

“So you had a nightmare about past events and then started panicking about the next psycho with a god-complex the size of a planet that may try his hand at murdering trillions?” Stephen interrupted.

Again, asshole.

“Not exactly that. But..close.” Tony answered, still tracing the webs of scarring. Fingertips applying slight pressure, ghost pains flaring at the touch, muted sensations of power which had bled from the stones in such abundance he’d thought he’d go insane with it ripping beneath his skin.

At times he’d forget it all happened six years ago. That Thanos came and went. That Thanos was gone and no further threats of the otherworldly type have come knocking since. Sure, domestic squabbles were still a thing and the world was still stitching itself back together even after over half a decade later. But nothing too severe, nothing Iron Man couldn’t handle himself if he weren’t retired. Nothing that Peter Parker could write home about as anything more than an interesting exercise. Nothing that T’Challa couldn’t talk his way through.

Nothing like the mad Titan with a god complex and desire to murder half the universe’s occupants.

Stephen exhaled through his nose, shoulders sinking just slightly as he reached up with quivering fingers the tips of which touched at the marred flesh. They were wounds that had long healed but still engulfed half his body, striking up his neck and swallowed the left side of his face. Tony always flinched when Stephen touched them, like somehow this time Stephen would be disgusted. This time he’d see how ugly they were. This time he would leave.

“Was that all?” Stephen asked gently, his eyes glinting a mossy green, different from the day before when they were nearly silver littered with speckled hues of blue.

“Well it was,” Tony murmured, petulant tinge to his voice, shutting his eyes as he accepted the sorcerer’s touch.

Stephen’s hand moved up a bit, thumb coming up to swipe at his jawline, lips quirking to the side as he huffed through his nose, “You aren’t ugly. And I much prefer you to be horribly scarred than lost to death’s hand.”

Tony snorted, a sound which would’ve made his mother balk and his father just plain angry, “I think I’d just prefer to be pretty.”

Stephen breathed a laugh. The slight sound tugging a smile onto Tony’s own face, his own hand meeting Stephen’s scarred one. Fingers intertwining, grip firm, a slight squeeze of reassurance.

“You’re plenty pretty like this you know,” Stephen murmured, amused.

Tony opened his eyes, gaze flicking between Stephen’s two incredibly serious ones. Sometimes he wondered if the affection he saw swirling among nuances of color in those irises of his, would eventually dull. Would eventually fade and disappear.

But after three years of being together, two of being married, it only seems to have deepened.

“I still don’t think I’ll be able to sleep.” Tony deadpanned, carrying Stephen’s hand from his scarred flesh to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it as he sighed.

Stephen shook his head slightly, “I figured that would be the case. Shower?”

Tony frowned, “You...you don’t have to get up.”

Stephen cocked his eyebrow, “If you don’t get anymore sleep I won’t either. It’s a vicious side-effect of being codependent and I don’t feel like magicking myself to sleep. So I reiterate, would you like to shower together?”

“Well, if you’re going to insist.”