#i’d like it if he has learned since then ofc! many years have passed and the country has evolved

[k-manik]

People digging up shit idols have done over a decade ago……..how is this productive

[baecvlt]

Stalker Nagito Komaeda x Milf!Reader

this was requested via my twitter:

“Hey! i’ve seen your works and I’m in love. Can I request smut where a stalker Nagito Komaeda becomes obsessed with a milf reader who moves into the neighborhood who’s like a dom in bed and ya know just large bust and taller than him. Thank youuu🤍”

a/n: ofc. but I have my own idea of a dom which i’ll use involving certain things (heed warnings)

warnings: he is so obviously a virgin in this, degradation, slight masochism, asphyxiation, spit, also Nagito calls the reader mommy (side note: nagito is in his early 20s in this, he lives alone. age of reader isn’t specified BUT I say she’s in her late 20s/early 30s)

• • •

It was a bright day...which Nagito despised. It was summer. He hated the sun, hated the mosquitoes, and the unnecessary humidity. It was days like these he wishes he was back at his university dorm. The A/C, the tall tree covering his window and blocking the sun...it was perfect. Hell, he didn’t even hate classes. Yet, he couldn’t live in the dorms forever. When it came time to buy a home, he stupidly did so in fall, moved in during the winter.

Well, no shit the home seemed perfect then. It wasn’t fucking summer. His A/C decided to break, his windows has a great view of the sun, and most of his friends were out of town (all except Hajime, but Hajime is fucking boring and a bummer). Nagito sat on his couch, watching reruns of old tv shows. He took a sip from his nearby glass (cold water), suddenly hearing sounds of what appeared to be a loading van. He looked outside his window.

A moving van?

Right, that one old man who lived there passed away. Freak accident, by the way. Oh well, may he rest in peace. Meanwhile, Nagito was being himself and trying to see who it was. Pretty much, the dude was being nosy. He saw another car pull up. That must’ve been the family’s car. Out jumped 3 kids, what appeared to be 2 girls and 1 boy. An adult stepped out. Nagito decided he’d get a better look at the situation. He put on his shirt, black jeans, and his green hood.

He was “going for a walk”.

Without being noticed, he made his way to the other side of the street. It was a woman, she was taking boxes out of the truck. The minute Nagito saw her it was if he was stricken by Cupid’s arrow. She was tall and beautiful. Her skin complimented her hair and her legs, he couldn’t take his eyes off them. Her breasts...he needed to stop—

“Hi!”

She was in front of him, a warm and inviting smile on her face. “H-Hi,” he muttered. She didn’t hear him well, so it helped that he waved. “I’m new in the neighborhood. We just moved in,” she added, putting the box down. She stuck her hand out, going for a handshake. He shook her hand, her warm hand against his cold ones. Why are his hands always cold? “I see,” he responded, getting his shit together,“I’m Nagito Komaeda. I live across the street”. She introduced herself and complimented his house.

“What a lovely home. I hope the neighborhood is just as lovely”

“It should be. It’s pretty quiet. There’s not many families here. Say, can I help you pack?”

“You’re too sweet! I’d really appreciate it”

He helped take all the boxes in her home, helping load a couch too, and help with other large objects. They finished in 9 hours, taking a majority of the day. “Thanks for helping out, Nagito”. She made a lemonade, handing him a glass.

“Don’t mention it! Also, thank you”

One of the kids ran in the living room where they sat on the couch. He gasped when he saw Nagito. “Mommy! That man looks dead!!!”. Nagito smiled, but his mom was not amused. “Michael! Apologize..”. The kid kept smiling and said,“Sorry!”. He ran to another room. “I’m so sorry,” she muttered. Nagito shook his head.

“Hey, I’m rather malnourished”

“Ha. On an unrelated topic, are you hungry? I could make us something”

“Oh, I shouldn’t linger any longer. I wouldn’t want to disturb your husband”

She laughed. “I know you mean no harm, but I’m not married,” she added. “Oh,” Nagito muttered,“I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean it in any way”. She shook her head and reassured him it was fine. “Sit, Nagito,” she pulled out a chair,“I’m not letting you refuse having dinner with us. Especially since you were such help”. She rubbed his back before heading back into the kitchen to begin cooking.

She made him a bowl of pasta, adding chicken on the side. Nagito was quite happy. He hadn’t eaten a good meal in so long. Her kids didn’t eat at the table, but on the counter. Meanwhile, she ate with Nagito. Just as Nagito thought he couldn’t grow fonder of her, he did just that. All she did was let him talk about himself.

“Jesus, I’m sorry about your parents? How are you keeping yourself afloat with university and expenses?”

“Academic scholarships”

“Wow, you’re such a smart boy”

The way she phrased it made him flustered. “Thank you for the meal, ma’am,” he muttered,“I haven’t eaten like this in who knows how long”. She smiled tenderly, picking up his empty plate. “Seconds?”. He shook his head.

“No, thank you. I’m already so full”

“I’m glad. You know, there’s always a meal for you in store if you can do me a favor”

“What’s that?”

“My oldest daughter has her final test this week. You think you can help her study? I’ll make you a nice, warm meal every time you come over”

Nagito thought about it. He would also have time around her. Plus, she wasn’t a bad cook. “Of course, I look forward to it,” he told her. “Lovely”. He got up and excused himself to go home. “It was nice having you over, Nagito,” she said softly. He could tell she was getting sleepy. When people are tired, Nagito has noticed that their tone is rather sheepish. She walked him to the door, ruffling his hair playfully and he blushed. “Goodnight, neighbor”.

“Goodnight, you”

Before he left, she stopped him and handed him a paper: (xxx) xxx-xxxx ♡

“Call me when you get home so I have your number saved. Then, I can call you when my daughter, Vanessa, needs help. Take care, okay?”

He nodded.

She closed the door, his thoughts racing on his way home. He picked up some things about her, things she didn’t even tell him. He went home and opened a notebook, writing all of it down. He called her and she answered, her voice as sweet as when he left (only sleepier). “Hello?”. His breath was heavy without realizing it as he spoke. “H-Hey, you told me to call you,” he breathed,“It’s Nagito...Komaeda”

“Oh, hey, angel! I’m not interrupting anything am I?”

“What? No, it’s all good— why’d you think so?”

“You sound like you need to catch your breath, but anyway, thanks for calling me. I’ve saved your number now”

“Oh, great! Well, if that’s all, I’ll let you go to bed now”

“It was. Goodnight, Nagito”

“G-Goodnight”

He hung up, flustered more than ever as he continued to jot down his thoughts on paper. The next day, he woke up at 6am to wait in his car. He knew what he was doing was wrong, but he couldn’t help it. At around 7:41am, his front neighbor and kids headed for their car. Nagito, who had taken a light nap in the driver’s seat, was awoken by the car starting. He waited for the car to drive away just slightly past his house to start his own car, slowly tailing behind her.

He dropped her kids off at the nearby elementary. She got off, kissed them on their forehead (all minus the eldest, who walked swiftly through the gates). Seeing how she cared for them made Nagito feel bad, but all he did was brush that feeling off. Next, he followed her through her daily. As he did, his notes from last night echoed through his mind, adding new detail.

“She works at an office not everyday She doesn’t have allergies but is sensitive to dust Red seems to be her favorite color but always in a darker shade Her daughter is around 10 years old She isn’t vegan but enjoys almond milk Maybe has an issues with abandonment but I can’t assume that either She buys many apples but not the same amount of bananas at the store so maybe she only eats the bananas—”

Just more to add to his notebook.

He got home before she did, writing down what he had learned. His phone rang about an hour later of him getting home. He picked it up,“Hello?”. “Nagito, hi!”. It was her. He started having a mini-panic attack, because why would she be calling him? “H-Hey, how are you?”

“I’m doing alright. I was wondering if you could come over and tutor Vanessa”

Oh, thank god.

“Yes, of course. I’ll be down there right now”

“Great. See you then!”

He was relieved, heading to her home happily. He knocked on the door. When she opened it, she did so with the same warm smile as yesterday. “Thank you for coming over,” she said,“She’s in her room”. Nagito nodded, freezing when she grabbed his hand and took him to the room. Her touch was so soft, noted. They got to the room, where a girl was reading a book on a desk. “Nessa?”. The girl turned around.

“Nagito is going to be here for a few hours to help you out with homework and studying. He’s really smart, so pay attention and be respectful”

“Okay, mom”

She nodded, squeezing Nagito’s shoulder before leaving. Nagito approached the girl, she took her things out. Before he could speak, she stopped him. “Please don’t call me ‘Nessa’,” she whispered,“It’s bad enough my mom does, but not you, Please”.

“Don’t worry. I wasn’t planning on referring to you at all”

“Bastard”

“Nessa”

“I guess I walked right into that one”

Nagito laughed, grabbing a chair and sitting next to her. Her work wasn’t what he expected. Is this what they’re teaching kids now? He could’ve sworn he hadn’t seen this type of stuff until he hit middle school. It wasn’t anything he couldn’t do, but damn. All in all, tutoring went well. Vanessa actually learned something today. “Good job!,” he said. “Thank you,” she smiled and hugged him,“I felt so stupid”.

“Hey, its okay not to understand things”

Her mom walked in. “Dinner’s ready”. Vanessa got up and went to the kitchen. “How’d it go?,” she asked Nagito. “Went well, she gets the math now,” he answered. She smiled, thanking him for his help and asking him to join them for dinner. He’d be foolish not to, so he accepted the invite.

Fish tacos were served tonight with rice and beans, another lemonade made. It was different than anything Nagito had ever had, but that doesn’t equate to bad. He actually enjoyed the meal. The kids sat at the main table today, much more respectful than yesterday. “Michael how was school?”. He put a thumbs up, getting back to eating. “And Adrianna?”. She looked up from her meal and shrugged. “What’s wrong?”.

“I’m tired, but class was okay”

“Oh, okay. When you’re done, just take a quick shower and get to bed”

“Thanks”

Nagito thought it was endearing. Seeing how understanding and loving she was, it was refreshing. The kids all eventually left, Nagito finishing his meal. “Did you like it?”. He looked at her, nodding. “Great! Seconds?”.

“Full again. I don’t usually eat, but your food is always so good”

“Oh, you’re just saying things...”

“No, really! Thank you”

He said his goodbyes to the family, walking back home. It was as if he was falling for this woman more and more everyday. He went to sleep, this time dreaming of her. He never dreams, but this time he dreamt she was on her knees for him. Then, nothing else. It was as if his dream teased him.

The next morning, he woke up to some knocking on the door. He looked at the time. 8:23am. He put on a pair of jeans and his shirt, walking to his door. He opened it and there she stood, wearing a black dress and red heels. He assumed she had work and needed a favor before going. “Good morning,” he said.

“Were you following me yesterday?”

Shit.

“I, uh...,” he didn’t know what to answer. He was indeed following her yesterday. He also liked her, so if he straight up said that he was to following her, it’d ruin things. His face was glowing a shade of pink to a slight red as he thought of the right answer. He was still stumbling over his words. “I think it’s kinda cute,” she added. The fuck? “Huh?”. She pushed him inside the house, closing and locking the door behind him. “When a boy follows someone around, it’s because he wants something,” she added, but her tone was so sultry,“Well, Nagito—”. She pushed him onto the couch, leaning in front of him with her hands on his chest.

“—What do you want?”

None of what was happening felt real. Nagito couldn’t find the words to express what exactly he wanted. This was the first time he’d ever been in a situation like this, it wasn’t a bad one either. He began to panic when she straddled him. “Could it be that you wanted me?,” she asked. He frantically nodded and she laughed as she locked her lips with his. He gasped against her lips, kissing back. She slowly trailed her kisses down to his neck, cupping his jaw while grinding on his lap. Nagito moaned, his shaky hands grabbing her ass. She grabbed his hands and put them away from her. “It’s cute that you’re getting this carried away”.

“I’m sorry”

“No time to apologize. Get on your knees for mommy”

Nagito was about to lose his mind when she said that, but he obeyed. Her presence was domineering as he stood on his knees against his carpeted floor. She spread her legs, noticing Nagito desperately trying to get a look. Her red heel stopped him, stepping on his head lightly. “Am I teasing you?,” she asked,“It’s okay to be honest”.

“Y-You are, but its okay. I want to be teased by you”

“You’re adorable,” she took her heel off his head,“Let’s go to your room”.

He practically ran to his bed. He sat and waited patiently. She entered the room, heading to his bed. She began to take off his shirt, admiring his frame. She then unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans. He kicked them off and sat down. She sat next to him. “Give me your hands”. She held them, frowning slightly. “Boo, they’re so cold,” she teased,“I’ll warm them up for you”. Carefully, she grabbed his left hand, putting his middle and ring finger in her mouth. She licked to his fingertips, leaving him tense and speechless. She stopped and smiled at him.

“This is your first time, isn’t it?”

He nodded shyly. “Don’t be shy,” she said,“I’m going to guide you, but I’m also going to have my fun”. He gulped, nodded. She stood up and removed her dress. She wore a lacy black bra and panties. She brought his hands to her breasts, allowing him to fondle them. They were huge in his hands. “You like them, baby?”. “Y-Yes,” he muttered,“Can you, uh, take....the bra off?”. He was ashamed when asking, he felt desperate. She smiled and nodded, unhooking it and allowing the bra to fall to the ground. He gasped at the sight of her tits, grabbing them. She straddled him.

“Do you know what to do with them?”

He nodded, rubbing one and sucking the other. She moaned sweetly, grinding on his lap. He popped his mouth off them. That was when she took the opportunity to knock him onto the bed. She began to make out with him, shoving his tongue down her throat. They lay sideways. Her hand was on his neck, slightly choking him. He couldn’t resist but try to grind on her lap. She laughed. “Look at you,” she mocked,“Humping my leg like a desperate little puppy”. She didn’t let him speak, sitting up and pushing him back down. “I’m going to give you what you want,” she whispered in his ear,“Take your cock out”.

He was nervous as he did, hands shaky. She blushed a bit at his size. “It’s so big,” she said, straddling him,“I’m going to have my way with it”. “Please, do what you want to me,” he begged,“Abuse me, please”. She didn’t speak, sinking down on it. Nagito gasped, she was extremely wet. She began to bring her hips up and land straight down on it, repeatedly. She put her hands around his throat, now being rougher. Nagito gasped for air, grabbing her hands.

That was a mistake.

“Hands down,” she ordered, striking him across the face. “Sorr-”. He was slapped once again. “Only speak when you’re spoken to”. He nodded as his stomach began to cave in. His cock twitched each time she slapped him, making her moan. She leaned forward, capturing his earlobe between her teeth. He winced, his hands tangling in the sheets. He felt as though his entire body was blushing.

“You’re so sensitive there”

She teased him, kissing the skin and nibbling. His hips involuntarily snapped upward, making her whine. “You’re so desperate, baby,” she laughed,“it’s so cute”. He could feel her warmth running along his cock. He bit into his hand, trying to stop himself from cumming inside her. It worked, but she didn’t like him doing that. She grabbed his hands and kissed them.

“Don’t hurt yourself, put them right here”

She placed them on her boobs. He watched them bounce up and down, grabbing them gently. His rather large hands seemed small on her tits. He was extremely flushed. He took them off her and placed them on her hips. “Open your mouth”. He lay back more and did as he was told. She leaned forward, grabbing his jaw again as she spit into it and kissed him. He moaned when she did, his urges getting the best to him and thrusting upward. He hit her cervix every time, causing her to produce the sweetest and sluttiest of moans. Her walls tightened around him and now he was whining. “Are you gonna cum, honeybun?,” she asked.

“Y-Yes..”

“Where do you wanna cum?”

“I wanna cum...everywhere. I want it. I want it so bad. I wanna cum inside and on your tits, on your ass, y-your face..mouth. Please let me cum, mommy”

She motivated him, riding him harder. “Come on, Nagito,” she whispered,“Cum for mommy. Cum all the way inside her”. He lost his mind after that, groaning as he shot his load(s) inside her. He was still inside her as he tried catching his breath. She rubbed his chest, shushing him. “Good boy, you did so well,” she cooed,“Such a good boy.” He was covering his face, embarrassed and still hard. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?,” she asked. He shook his head, thinking,“Not rough enough”. He whined when she got off, revealing he was still erect. She noticed.

“You wanna go again, baby? Kids don’t leave school till 2:30. We have time for an extra fuck”

“C-Can I?”

“Yes, dummy”

She let Nagito choose how to fuck her. He wanted missionary, mostly because he craved intimacy and she did not disappoint. She kissed and praised him, telling him he was good. She held onto him the whole time and cuddled him afterwards. Nagito felt so special, he felt loved. “I can come over when I don’t have work,” she said,“Would you like that?”.

“I’d love that actually”

“You make me happy, Nagito. I could stay here and cuddle all day”

“I feel so lucky”

He yawned, looking at the clock. “Its 10,” he told her. She nuzzled his chest, humming. “Mmmm, let’s take a small nap,” she whispered,“Okay?”. “Okay”. He kissed the top of her head and held her to him, slowly joining her in slumber.

[rmtndew]

Begin Again

Summary: Walter Marshall is a dedicated homicide detective doing his best to balance his work life with being a single father to a teenage girl. Fiona Sparks is a woman doing her best to take care of everyone and everything around her, except for herself. Neither has had the best luck with relationships, but once they meet, they’re willing to give it another shot, this time with each other. (It’s basically just romantic fluff) 

Pairing: Marshall and OFC.

Rating: PG

Warnings: Mentions of death, cancer.

A/N - This is a sequel to ‘All I’ve Ever Known’. I started writing this because I needed an escape for some personal stuff going on and my coping mechanism included giving Marshall all the love that man needed, and imagining him being the softest boyfriend to me, then passing those details on to Fiona (my OFC).

I also made a Spotify playlist for this story, if anyone is interested - Begin Again Playlist 

 Tag list - @hollydaisy23, @alyxkbrl, @onlyhenrys, @omgkatinka, @speakerforthedead0​, @gearhead66,  @thethirstyarchive, @oddsnendsfanfics, @littlerinoa, @agniavateira, @aaescritora, @justaboringadult, @beenthroughalot, @seriouslygoodlookinggents,  @xxxkatxo

If you want to be added/removed from the tag list, let me know!

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

The last Wednesday in October was a gray, misty, windy day. It was cold, the kind you felt more in your bones than anywhere else, with the sky occasionally spitting out sleet. I spent the entire twenty-minute drive to my job at Waverly Catering clutching the steering wheel so tightly that my hands were cramping by the time I arrived from white-knuckling it the whole way there. Usually, I would get to work early enough to enjoy the silence and finish off my coffee before officially starting my workday. That day, however, I spent the very little extra time I had trying to get my hands to stop hurting, then chugged down my coffee that had cooled dramatically to a gross lukewarm temperature. 

Before going in, I checked my phone. I always kept it on silent while I drove. My mom had a tendency to text me, make a dozen spelling mistakes because of auto-correct, then correct them one by one, leaving me with about thirteen separate texts to read. It didn’t use to bother me, I thought it was charming and very distinctly Mom. But when she’d gotten sick at the beginning of the year, every text she sent that I couldn’t read immediately made me panic, worrying that something terrible had happened to her, even when I’d just seen her at home a few minutes before. So for my sanity - and hers - I started putting my phone on silent until I got to work, or wherever else I was going. It was a habit I’d kept even after she’d gone into remission because her cancer may have been gone, but my anxiety over her wasn’t. 

That morning when I checked my phone, I saw that I had two texts, but they weren’t from Mom. 

Marshall:  Good morning, Fi. I hope that I get to see you today. I’ll be chained to  my desk with paperwork for a while. This is the first time I’ve not dreaded it. You’re my silver lining.

That was cheesy. I’m sorry. I’m bad at this.

And just like that, all of my stress melted away. The weather didn’t matter, my disappointing coffee didn’t matter, even the cramping in my hands didn’t matter. All that did matter was that Walter Marshall thought of me as his silver lining. Yes it was early days, yes we’d barely known each other a month, yes we’d only gone on two dates, but he made me happier than I’d been in a long time. I felt like I’d been holding my breath for two years, starting when my dad had died in a car crash, followed by my boyfriend Ezra breaking up with me, then losing my job as an interior designer, and capping off with my mom’s cancer diagnoses. Then Walter came along and it was like I could finally breathe again. 

Me:  Please don’t apologize. You have no idea how much I needed to read that this morning. Feel free to be as  cheesy as you want. And I hope I get to see you today, too, even if it  means you’re chained to your desk.

Marshall:  If I don’t see you for some reason,  can I call you tonight? I miss your  voice and you make me want to get better at this talking thing. 

I could feel myself blushing. Even over the phone he made me feel like a teenager with a crush. I had no idea that anyone could make me feel that way as an adult, but he did every time he texted me. 

Me:  Of course you can. Even if we do see  each other, you can still call, if you want? Practice makes perfect, and all that.

Marshall: I’d like that. Talk to you soon.

I sat back in my seat with a sigh as I looked out at the sleet falling from the gray sky, spattering my windshield, blurring out the image of the trees in the park across from me blowing and bending in the wind. 

It was going to be a good day. 

“You look...dare I say it? Happy?” Darcy said as I walked into her office.

I smiled. “You may dare to say it because yes, I am quite happy.”

“And what brings you to such an extreme emotion so early on such a disgusting day?”

I went to her desk and sat in the chair opposite her. “Well, for one, I know that you’re about to do me a big favor that I will forever be grateful for.”

“Fiona Sparks asking for a favor? I’ll mark the day in my calendar,” she joked. “What kind of favor do you need?”

“I need a copy of the peanut butter cookie recipe.”

“For what purpose?” 

“See, that’s where the happiness part comes into play and you, being one of my dearest friends, would love to see me happy.” 

“I would but I’m unsure how a cookie recipe is going to do that.”

“It’s not for me,” I said, smiling wide. “I met this guy -” 

“What? Who?” she asked enthusiastically, her eyes wide with excitement.

“His name is Walter Marshall. He’s our detective who never changes his lunch order.”

“You’re dating one of the homicide detectives? You can feel free to thank me later for giving you that order, by the way. But right now I want details: How long have you been dating and why am I just now finding out about it?”

“We’re not technically dating. I met him a few weeks ago for the first time and we went on two dates last week.” 

“You haven’t dated anyone in over two years, and then you go on two dates in one week?”

“Well, the first was just a coffee date. Saturday we tried having a proper one.” 

“Tried?” she asked, raising her eyebrow. 

“He wanted to take me to dinner, so we went to an Italian place, but before we could order, his daughter called. She was supposed to be at a Halloween party, but some of her friends had lied to her, I guess, and it ended up being a basement party with slightly older boys and she felt uncomfortable, so we went and picked her up. Then we all went for pizza together.”

“He has a daughter, which is some heavy baggage to begin with, but you met her on your second date? That’s a lot, Fiona.” 

“I know it seems like it, but it’s really not. She’s a good kid. And he’s an amazing father, which, oddly, just makes him more attractive,” I said. “But that’s not the point. The point is that his daughter was, understandably, a little iffy about me being with him when he picked her up until she found out that I’m the one who brings the cookies. She apparently loves them and I told her that I might be able to get her a copy of the recipe and that seemed to pave the way for her not hating me instantly. And she’s thirteen, so that’s a pretty big deal.”

“I have so many questions right now but I can’t sort them all out so I’m going to be annoying you with them all day, just be prepared for that. All I want to know right now is if you want the recipe laminated or not?” 

I let out a relieved breath. “Yes, please, if you don’t mind. And thank you so much, Darcy. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“I do know. You never ask for anything, even simple things, so the fact that you’re willing to ask me for a favor means this is a pretty big deal,” she said. “He must be a good guy.”

I nodded. “He really is.” 

I arrived at the police station that morning a little before eleven. I’d left the shop early, worried the weather might get bad again and didn’t want to be late for my delivery. Thankfully the sleeting had stopped, allowing me to get there a few minutes early. A few minutes that I used up trying to pull my dolly through the parking lot. The lot had been salted, which was good in that at least it wasn’t icy, but the wheels on my dolly didn’t seem to like the brine mixture. They kept locking up on me. Between that and having to fight against the roaring wind, it took me an embarrassingly long time to reach the station door. Before I could push it open, someone opened it from the inside for me. I looked up, expecting to see Officer Bates. He was the security officer that was posted downstairs and always went through the containers full of lunches that I brought to the homicide unit every week. Instead, I saw Marshall.

“Hello,” he said with a smile. 

I immediately felt like giggling. The last time I’d seen him, we’d kissed. And seeing him right then, seeing his beautiful, handsome face, I wanted so badly to kiss him again. Instead, I felt myself grow shy as I blushed so fiercely that my cheeks stung with the new heat that rushed to them. 

“Hi,” I said. He pulled the door open all the way, then stepped back, allowing me to walk in. My stomach fluttered as I looked back at him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He closed the door behind me. “May I help you with your cart?”

“No, it’s okay.”

“Would you let me help you take it back to your car when you leave, at least?”

I fought every instinct inside of me that insisted I say no. Darcy was right: I hated asking for even simple things. I never wanted to burden anyone. But since I’d met Marshall, I’d learned that his way of showing interest or affection was to do things for me. But he always asked first, wanting my permission. It challenged me, but in a good way. I didn’t need to always go it alone if I didn’t have to. 

“Um, yeah, I’d appreciate that. Thank you,” I said. “The wheels didn’t seem to agree with the salted parking lot. You could probably pull it a lot easier than me.” 

Marshall stayed with me as Officer Bates went through the containers I’d brought in. He wasn’t close enough to make anyone passing by question it, but it was close enough that my hand hanging at my side could feel the heat coming from his hand and forearm, that was visible from the blue henley that was pushed up to his elbows in a way that I found incredibly attractive. My fingers itched to seek out his, but I fought it. Keeping them obediently beside me. Once Officer Bates was done and gave me the all clear to take the food up, Walter walked me to the elevator and pressed the button to call it down. Then he held the door back, letting me in first before following me. After the door slid closed, he fell back half a step, putting him right beside me. His hand bumped mine, his fingers snaking through, gently holding mine. I smiled, knowing I wasn’t the only one itching for contact. 

I turned without a thought and placed a kiss on his shoulder. Then I paused, a moment of panic rising in me that maybe we weren’t at that level yet. But before I could move or feel too worried, he placed a kiss on the top of my head.

“I keep thinking about Saturday,” he whispered. 

“Me, too,” I said. I looked up at him. “It was...pretty amazing.”

He smiled. I could see his sharp canine teeth. They were oddly charming. “Yes, it was.” He laced his fingers with mine more securely, properly holding it. “I know I mentioned calling you tonight, but I hoped that we might have dinner again instead. If you’re not busy?”

“I’m exceptionally not busy tonight.”

“Good.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead before turning his head back to face the elevator door. “I won’t be able to finish all my paperwork today, there’s too much and it keeps multiplying like rabbits, so since I have to do it tomorrow anyway, I’m going to knock off here around five. Could I pick you up after that? Around five-thirty, perhaps?” 

I nodded, smiling. “That sounds great.”

The elevator dinged as we reached the homicide unit floor. He gave my hand a couple of gentle squeezes before letting it go as the door slid open. He stepped out, then held the door for me like he had before, letting me pull my cart out. He walked with me almost all the way to the break room before a shorter man with glasses stopped him. 

“Lieutenant Marshall, can I speak with you in your office for a moment?” he asked. 

“Of course.” Walter touched my shoulder. “Excuse me,” he said to me quietly before leaving for his office. 

I continued on and was met by most of the detectives waiting for me. Like usual, they didn’t talk to me much, just thanking me for the food before taking their box and going. I took my time, hoping that by the time that I was done, the man speaking with Walter would be gone before I brought him his lunch. When I was done, I packed up my cart before taking Marshall’s boxed lunch and walked down the hall, finding the door to his office open. I could hear him talking still and wasn’t sure what to do. I’d made a deal with him a few weeks back to always bring his lunch to his office whenever I delivered - the first time was because a uniformed officer looked like he was going to swipe it, after that, it was to thank him for rescuing me from a pushy creep while I was with my ‘friends’. We’d never discussed if I should interrupt while he was working. I chewed my lip, debating what to do for several seconds before deciding to just take a chance and knock on the door frame. The worst case scenario was that I looked like a very dedicated delivery woman making sure that all of my orders reached their proper owners. 

“Yep. Come in,” Walter called out in response to my knocking.

I entered his office only far enough to be seen and not a step further. I didn’t know if Marshall wanted people to know about us, so I was prepared to make a quick exit if I needed to. “I have a delivery for Detective Marshall,” I said. 

He looked at me and smiled, then waved me in further. “Harper, this is Fiona Sparks. Fiona, this is Commissioner Harper.”

“Hi. It’s nice to meet you, sir,” I said. 

“You, too.” He looked at me over the top of his glasses. “You don’t happen to be related to Rodger Sparks, by any chance?” 

I felt speechless for a moment. I hadn’t heard anyone other than Mom say Dad’s name in months. Finally, I forced myself to nod. “Yes. He was my dad. How - how did you know?” 

“We went to college together. You’re the spitting image of him,” he said. “I was sorry to hear about him passing away. I lost my wife around two years ago as well. A brain aneurysm.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t get any easier.” 

“No, it doesn’t,” I agreed.

He looked at me for a moment longer, then back to Marshall, who was standing patiently with his hands clasped behind his back. He looked back at me briefly before taking the folder he was holding and tapped it against Marshall’s shoulder. “You know what? This can wait until tomorrow,” he said. “I’ll bring it by in the morning.” He left Walter and stopped beside me before leaving the office. “I’m very sorry about your father. Rodger was a horrible sport when he lost at cards, but other than that, he was a great guy. And probably the smartest man I ever met.”

I smiled slightly. “He was a horrible sport at cards.” 

He smiled back. “The worst.” He gave me a wink. “It was a pleasure seeing you.” 

“You, too.”

When he left, he closed the door behind him. I looked at Marshall as he walked towards me. “Did I interrupt something important?” I asked. 

“No. He was just asking about a cold case.”

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to come in since he was here. Next time, if you’re talking to someone, would you rather I left your lunch in the break room?”

He stopped in front of me. He was so close. He smelled like coffee and Old Spice. I swallowed thickly, trying to meet his gaze as he looked down at me. He shook his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “No. I’d still like you to bring it to me, please. If that’s alright?” 

“Yeah, of course. I just don’t want to get in the way of your job.”

“You won’t,” he said. “But I’ve let my job get in the way of other things for too long, so maybe it’s time someone got in the way of it for a bit.” 

“You have an important job, though. If you were a boat salesman, I might feel a little differently about disrupting your work.” 

His smile grew as he tilted his head at me. “A boat salesman?” 

“I mean a job where it wouldn’t really matter all that much if you were distracted every once in a while. If someone doesn’t sell a boat, it’s not that big of a deal. But if you don’t solve a murder case...that has very real repercussions. I wouldn’t want to be a reason for something slipping by in a case.” 

He put his hand on my cheek, directing my eyes back to his. “That won’t happen,” he said. “I take my job seriously. That’s never been a problem for me. My problem has always been figuring out how to balance it with the rest of my life, which I never could, and I neglected a lot of people because of it. Especially Faye.” He shook his head. “I’m still not good at it. But I had a case back in the winter that...put Faye’s safety in jeopardy, among other things, and it made me realize that I need to put more of an effort in my life outside of this job. Despite how hard that is for me.” He stroked my cheek with his thumb. “You motivate me to slow down a bit. And that’s a good thing.”

I took my free hand and placed it over his, then turned my face slightly and placed a kiss on the inside of his wrist. “I would be happy to slow down with you,” I whispered. 

Marshall had a smile that somehow showed in his eyes more than his mouth, and that’s how he was looking at me right then. “I’d like that.” 

A knock on the door startled me. I took a step back, his hand falling from my cheek. He then ran it over his face, almost like he was trying to scrub the irritation of being interrupted off it. Then he folded his arms across his chest before calling out for whoever it was to come in.

The door opened and a man stepped up to the doorway. He was wearing plain clothes like Walter, so I assumed he was a detective, too. He all but ignored me as he and Walter spoke. Half of what they said was in a jargon I didn’t understand, so I just stood there, head down, waiting. After a few minutes, the guy left, only halfway closing the door as he did. When Marshall finally turned back to me, I could see that he was frustrated. I knew he wouldn’t admit it, but me being at his work right then was only going to cause more irritation with every interruption we had. 

“As much as I hate it, I should probably get back to the shop. We have a big order going out tomorrow, so there’s quite a lot to do today to prepare for it,” I said. “Plus, I have a date with a very handsome detective tonight that I want to get ready for.”

The frustration on his face seemed to melt away as he looked at me with a smirk. “Is it anyone I know?”

“Possibly. He does work in your unit.” 

“Is that so?” he asked. I nodded. “Well, if I see him around, I might have to have a talk with him.”

“And what would you say?” 

“I’d tell him that he better be good to you because you deserve to be treated well.” 

My stomach fluttered. “You can rest assured that he treats me very well. Better than any man ever has.”

“All those other men were idiots.”

I smiled. “Maybe so.” 

He shook his head. “Definitely so.” He reached out and took his lunch from my hand, then turned and placed it on a filing cabinet behind him. “Will you let me help you to your car now?” 

I nodded. “Yes, please.”

He put on his coat and followed me to the break room. He pulled my dolly for me, moving it like it was as light as a child’s toy. Even when we made it to the parking lot, he didn’t seem to have any issue with the wheels fighting against him. Then he picked it up and placed it in my trunk with ease, despite how I very often fought to get it back in. I thought about telling him that he was welcome to help me anytime he wanted, but I was afraid it wouldn’t come across as a joke and he would feel obligated to actually help. 

“Thank you. You made my morning a lot easier,” I said after I closed the trunk. I looked at him. “I guess I’ll see you around five-thirty?”

He nodded. “I’ll call you when I leave here, but yeah, I should be there by then,” he said. “And I promise it’ll only be the two of us and no cheap pizza.” 

“To be honest, I quite liked the pizza. It didn’t taste cheap. And I really, truly didn’t mind Faye joining us, but it'll be nice to have dinner with just you tonight,” I said. “But that reminds me - I put a copy of our cookie recipe for Faye in your lunch box.” 

He smiled. “Thank you. She’ll be very excited about that.”

“You’re welcome. And let her know if she has any issues with it, she can call or text me.” 

The crease between his eyebrows appeared as he looked at me thoughtfully. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah. I’ve made them enough times over the last year and a half to make every mistake you can with them. If she has a problem, I can probably diagnose it over the phone.” 

“You don’t mind her having your number?”

I felt my facial expressions mirroring his, but from confusion. “Of course I don’t mind. As long as you’re okay with it,” I said. “Unless you think your ex-wife would mind? I don’t want to step on her toes or anything.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think Angie would mind for that purpose, and I don’t have a problem with it. But I don’t want you to feel obligated.”

“I don’t but I’ll leave it up to you. If you’d feel more comfortable being the middleman you can always call me for her.” I gave him a big smile. “And I can help you practice the whole talking thing. Then it’s a two birds with one stone kind of deal.” 

He smiled back, nodding his head. “And if she doesn’t need help?” 

“You can still call.” I shrugged. “As far as I’m concerned, you don’t have to have a reason for calling. If I’m not at work, I’m usually pretty free. I may be cooking, or watching ‘The Golden Girls’ with Mom, but that’s about it,” I said. “I’m afraid you’re courting quite a socially boring person.”

He laughed. “I’m not sure if you’ve caught on, but I’m not exactly a sociable person, either,” he said. “So perhaps we make a good fit for each other.”

“Perhaps so,” I agreed. “We can be selectively social together.” 

“Sounds good to me.” 

I let out a sigh and watched my breath turn to steam in front of me. “I better let you get back to your paperwork and I need to go help Darcy at the store. We have over fifty loaves of bread to bake before the end of the day, so depending on when I get home, you may have to deal with your date smelling like freshly baked bread.” 

He squinted slightly. “I’m not really opposed to that,” he joked with a smile that showed off the sharp ends of his canine teeth. 

I laughed. “Good to know.” 

He gave me a short hug, kissing my cheek as he pulled back. “I’ll see you this evening.” 

“I’m looking forward to it.

[duketectivecomics]

You might've answered this already and I just didn't find it, but one thing that always perplexed me about Duke was how old he was in comparison to the other Batkids. It's obvious he's younger than Dick and Babs, and I pretty sure he's younger than Jason and Cass, and older than Damian, but I cannot tell if he's meant to be Tim and Steph's ages, younger, or older. Could you help me?

You’re all kinds of good here, anon!!! I answered a similar ask abt the Order of Adoption but didn’t dive into specific ages on that post BECAUSE well they didn’t ask lmaooo but ALSO:

Comic ages are very fluid usually! While Years™️ might pass in the canon proper, or while time seems to slow to a crawl, having a character’s age outright stated is something that occurs very rarely for most characters, if at all!

Because it’s always much easier to have a floating age range to work and play around in! It’s easier to keep a character Perpetually 12 or 16 or 25 or mid-40s or- you get the idea. SO, with that in mind. Let’s do our Best to Break Down What Age Duke Might Be Currently A N D how it might interact with the Other Batkids!

(Warning for a Very Long Post, lots of issue citations, and a LOT of comics terminology regarding specific runs/events/continunity. I’m gonna try to keep it as clear/concise as possible ofc but plz keep these things in mind! If you’re not at least marginally familiar with Bat-Comics, you might find yourself feeling a little lost here!)

So from the Zero Year arc we see a common Trend that plays out pretty consistently with Batfam comics: a Life-Changing Event Occuring while the protag is Young™️.

(Batman (2011) #30)

With how Duke is drawn in these particular issues, and given the trends of the past, I’d place him in the 8-12 range. The historic precedent being ofc that that is the same range that canon usually places both Bruce and Dick at for their Tragedies™; the more benign reason being that he... just very much Looks to be drawn in that Range. He’s very clearly an Older/Prepubescent child here.

Fast Forward to his Next Appearance in the Endgame arc and-

(Batman (2011) #37)

He’s definitely older! He’s wiser! And he’s giving Batman a fistbump lmao. Again, no strict age given here BUT, since they condensed each Robin to a Year or Two tops with Bruce (its n52 and its fucked up is what it is), we can assume it’s been at least 4-5 since Zero Year (which would mean if we go off the age range I proposed for that year, then theoretically he could be anywhere from 12-16 here, and I think that tracks pretty well. Not Perfectly and Certainly Not so well with Pre52 continuity ofc, but I’ll talk about that later!)

In We Are Robin, while its not stated Directly In The Text, it IS given as an Informational Tidbit that Duke is 16 (specifically this can be found at the end of issue #4)! (Sweet sweet canon confirmation FINALLY)

We know that WAR takes place Fairly Soon after Endgame (almost immediately, give or take a month or two given that Duke’s been placed in a few foster homes at this point and has racked up Quite A File) now, again id like to remind y’all that while this is a NICE starting point to have, keep in mind that comics are fluid and this may be retconned slightly/ignored in later stories bc Keeping Duke 16-ish is in DC’s Best Interest at the moment. (Having Relatable Teen Characters afterall is a Good Marketing strategy™️. And the longer they can Keep them Young, the Better)

With that in mind let’s take a moment to Highlight the fact that Duke and Damian have crossed paths at this point AND the storylines that have occurred during this year that were meant to be in conjunction with one another!

Because Prior to Endgame, Damian had Died! And just a year (in real, meat-space time) before We Are Robin, he was resurrected and had begun his “Year of Atonement” in the Robin: Son of Batman maxiseries. Midway through both this series and WAR (and, we can assume, midway thru this “Year” for Damian) the Robin War begins/ends and we see at least one major Moment between these two boys who will soon call one another brothers:

(Robin War #2)

Given that R:SoB is followed up VERY quickly by Teen Titans Rebirth (in which Damian celebrates his 13th birthday), we can conclude that Damian would be 12 during this time (well, 12 and 1/2 to play it safe lmao). That being said, this Confirms about a 4yr gap between Duke and Damian! (One Batkid down at least! but he’s the key to the others so put a pin in him!)

As We Are Robin draws to its conclusion, DC was releasing another arc that would eventually flow into the Rebirth Era, by the end of which, Bruce would approach Duke with an Idea (which involves Bruce becoming Dukes temporary guardian & as he states Many Times “Trying Something New” with Duke).

And thus the Rebirth Era begins, and Duke began his Year of training (most directly encapsulated by the Cursed Wheel arc in the All-Star Batman run:

(All-Star Batman #1 (back-up story))

Bruce introduces Duke to a training regimen that Alfred has named “the Cursed Wheel”. It encompasses all the training Bruce and the other bats have undergone and condenses it down into color-coordinated segments that will take Duke a Year to Complete.

It can be assumed that by the End of this Year Duke will somehow miraculously still be 16, despite, again, an entire ass year passing.

There’s one story that takes place mid-year in All-Star Batman, and the Cursed Wheel is meant to be capped off by Duke’s first Official Day as the Signal (in the titular Batman & the Signal ofc) BUT, near as I can tell after this story, Dukes age is not brought up again. So until they DO bring it up either in Batman & the Outsiders or whatever future run Duke becomes involved in, we can assume DC will be working with the idea that he’s meant to be in that 16-18 range from here on out (ie still a minor).

But, dear anon, you might be saying “okay, that’s cool, but how does that relate to my question abt how he falls in with the other Bats?” You’ll have to be a little patient with me here, but I think I may have cracked the code!

Keep in mind I’m gonna be addressing both the Post-Crisis to Flashpoint Continuity (ie mid-80s to 2010 in comics history) and the N52-slash-Rebirth Era (2010-Today). Its generally agreed by fandom and DC alike that these points of rebooting &/or Major Events constitute the era of “Modern” comics, and that everything from the 80s-on might more or less be canon on some level, even if not All of it is.

(Plus, most of fandom usually likes to borrow elements from both eras and much more rarely from stories before it, SO-)

Lets do a quick rundown of how everyone who’s Closer to Duke’s Age, Relates to each other first, age-wise:

Given that Jason was 15 when he died, in A Lonely Place of Dying its established that Bruce had become increasingly reckless since his death, and by the end of the story, Tim has stepped in to fill Robin’s shoes (he states that he’s 13 during this story btw). Pretty soon after, Stephanie Brown is introduced & established to be about a year older than Tim (wish I could pin-point a specific issue BUT, i unfortunately haven’t read any Tim OR Steph-involved comics that predate No Man’s Land... Besides the aforementioned Lonely Place and Young Justice technically, but im working on remedying that soon!)

NOW, during the No Man’s Land event, Cassandra is introduced, and pretty soon into her Batgirl run, its revealed that she’s around the same age as Jason (or at least how old he Would Have Been, had he not died.) Now, given that Jay has an August bday and Cass has a January one, fandom sometimes likes to play around with the idea of one being older than the other (OR even speculating/placing them in an AU as twins/siblings, given that Lady Shiva (Cass’ mom) was a Possible Candidate to be Jason’s biological mother but that’s a Whole Other Thing i wont get into here.)

The point being, Cass, in this era of comics, IS slightly older than Tim and Steph. At Tim’s start as Robin, their ages could either line up like: Tim-13, Steph-14, Cass-15 (being a few months ‘behind’ Jay), then Jason at 15/16 (depending on how soon Tim filled the role after Jay died in April) OR Jason-15/16, Cass-16/17 (in this case she’d be a few months ‘ahead’ now instead)

So brief detour to talk New 52, however! Because Tim, Steph & Cass all got switched around from where DC originally left them prior to the reboot! Now I haven’t read much of them in this era, other than Batman & Robin: Eternal, so my Understanding of their current ages is Spotty at Best. The general consensus seems to be that while before N52, Stephanie had been attending her first year of College (& doing VERY WELL i might add), with the reboot she was set back a few years alongside Tim to a vague Late-Teen state (so 16-18-ish, instead of a Very Clearly Established 18/19). Cass is probably the worst off for this reboot, given that B&R:E basically constitutes her new origin for the new continuity, and does nothing to confirm her age (all I really know is that she’s a Vague Late-Teen too... Probably? Maybe?), given how much they infantilize her, and subsequently how fandom in turn has taken to infantilizing her too, theres a semi-popular fanon that places her Younger that Tim and Steph. And I, for one, propose that we ignore that bc its Weak Sauce my dudes.

Some fans chose to ignore N52 continuity due to this vagueness, and will stick to the ages established before the N52/Rebirth reboots. But its something to keep in mind regardless bc we’re all obviously going to pull from what’s most familiar to us!

But WHERE could we place Duke with regards to them, then? Because them being “Late Teens” is certainly much too vague to work with!

This is Where Damian is the key!

Because Damian is one of those rare exceptions to the Reboot Rule. His story flowed almost seamlessly over from before to after. While he was made a Robin at the age of 10, he continued to grow and learn even after the universe was being rewritten to suit the whims of DC editorial. 

If we choose to ignore how everyone else’s ages and origins were swapped around, and stick with the growth that was presented before the reboot, then we can draw some interesting conclusions!

Firstly, though Stephanie also had Died and subsequently Returned, she hadn’t lost much, if any time, from the Ordeal. At the start of her Batgirl run, she is enrolled at a Gotham university and making headway with a more firm foot in the Batfamily (even to the point that she and Damian spend a few issues bonding. At this point in time, Damian is definitely 11, and again, Steph can be assumed to be 18/19 during the course of her run. We’ll assume 18 for clarity’s sake.)

So, then when Damian is 11, now our line up is as Follows:

Dami - 11, Steph - 18, Tim - 17, Cass 19-21 (the range depending again, if you subscribe to Cass being either older/younger than Jason).

WHICH MEANS, If during Robin War Damian is 12 (and a half) THEN We’ve got an age line-up that Potentially looks Like This:

Dami -12(and 1/2), Duke - 16, Tim - 18, Steph - 19, Cass - 20-22 (And Obvsly Jason, Babs & Dick at their varying Older Ages than everyone here)

and im just now realizing i Didnt include Harper in this line-up, but thats bc she’d also throw a big wrench in all this.  I’d personally throw her in with being Steph’s age, but I’m pretty sure she was supposed to be either that, or between Steph and Cass (again, since its N52, i believe Cass was/is assumed to be Younger than Steph, but that contradicts the assumed following of pre52 canon that we have for the above line-up, obvsly, and so we ignore that lmao) 

All this to say, however, that canon and fandom is what you make of it, and if you want to wiggle these ages around a little, you’re more than allowed! God Knows i usually like to skew the Tim-Steph-Cass age group to be a tad older than this in my own fic writing, and I like to have Duke start as a Robin at 14/15 instead of 16, but that’s just bc I like the dynamic potential it could bring with them being Definitively Older that him, and thus in a more secure place to be Mentoring him right alongside Bruce & the others.

But you might see these age ranges and want to do something Different (say, making Tim, Steph, Cass, & Duke all the Same Age at 17 instead! And that very well tracks with how current comics kinda looks right now!) and you’re absolutely valid to do so! Because again, comic character’s ages are meant to be fluid, not fixed!

And at the end of the day, its all about wanting to see these teen heroes kick serious ass haha

[allexteriordark]

Can I just ask why you're so interested in the john/dean dynamic? I just never found it interesting, John wasn't in the show enough for me to grow an interest, so I'd like to hear it from your pov :)

@ghost-go-roasty-mctoasty let me start off by saying i cannot possibly explain or phrase this in a way that's better than what others have said.... refer to nikki fearlastyear and bug familyhorror for real 🥴 but i get that you're asking why i'm like this so

i'm gonna put a read more since i'm incapable of being succint. i just rambled on and you'll have to take it because that was enough time spent on this. and like, i might not be satisfied, might not feel like i conveyed what i wanted to, but i don't feel like i can pull anything better out of myself lol and that's okay

and the answer, the relationship i have with my dad is certainly something and i'm projecting 💗 no but the key to dean and john is that a lot of it is off-screen. we're told about the night azazel paid a friendly little visit, about john being a vietnam vet, an ex-marine who just wanted to settle down, about sam and dean's childhood, about dean's problems with identity and self-worth. the show tells us a lot of things about them, just not outright. a lot can be deduced imo!!

the appeal is this: dean was devoted to his father, served him as well as he could, idolized him, despite john being absent and despite how he treated his sons. like,, john was his god. (i don't see this kind of intense devotion often in media when it comes to fathers - or it doesn't do it for me?? why i latched onto them probably has something to do with john's character. anyway,)

i feel like i was shown enough of john to... find him interesting enough to make me think about him and how he raised his boys? from very early on, john was dean's hero. as @familyhorror said, the night mary died intertwined their lives, not just because trauma, but because from that point on they were sharing this mission: protect sam, avenge mary and the sanctity of family.... i'm interested in dean's space in this family, in this unit, when the three of them were together (especially with me having a shitty family like i had to raise my sister and protect her from my parents sometimes. relatability points!!)

i wonder how dean and john operated when sam, the disobedient son, the one who didn't put family first, left them. that was a shared pain, shared betrayal to an extent. and from when sam left to when john went missing, it was just the two of them. that's all dean and john had 🥴 i'm probably definitely underestimating how many friends and acquaintances john had (pastor jim was definitely in the picture from early on..) but the stanford years couldn't be insignificant!! their relationship must have intensified. so they were sergeant and soldier, but also john, broken man on a revenge mission, and dean, his only true companion and provider of comfort.... tugging at john's coat when he was sad (above the clouds of pompeii by bear's den is actually about them just so everyone knows) and telling his dad it'll be okay after he came home from a hunt. dean did that, when he was small o_o i doubt he stopped wanting to care for his dad

sam wasn't elevated to the level in the family dean was elevated to. because dean's the oldest. the parent's supposed to provide the comfort, children can't possibly make good friends for their parents, no matter how much the parent needs a supporter. "i put too much on your shoulders, i made you grow up too fast. you took care of sammy, you took care of me" !!! dean turned into his dad's partner, in a way, because john needed one. total coincidence that my mom also thinks i can care for her like a friend and forgets that i'm her daughter ahaha <3

with mary dead, someone also needed to do the tasks traditionally assigned to like, the mom. i just doubt john always did the laundry and cleaned up when there was a mess and acted as a health care provider and did the dishes, it makes more sense to me that he passed most of the khmm ""duties of a mother"" off to dean... i mean. john definitely didn't do a lot for the comfort of his boys, in the name of nurturing them.... but dean had a baby brother, he had to make things better for his brother, i feel like when john left a spot empty, when something wasn't done, he stepped in. sometimes. this doesn't mean dean was a good wife replacement or that he was the only one who cooked or anything like that lol i'm just saying that dean definitely took on more responsibility than a kid's supposed to and his relationship with his father existed mostly so john's needs would be met. he wasn't just a son to john, that's what i think of them

also once sam left i think john could just, pull dean even deeper, have him be more obedient, on the same page as john - i'm doing this for your perfect angel of a mother and for family and for sammy, i'm doing this to you for your own good, because the world is a dark place and i love you so much. and isn't it interesting, dean thinking the abuse is justified? that john was right to leave them to go on hunts and to move them from motel to motel, eradicating any chance of connection they could've had outside of family and any chance of feeling like they have a home? and of feeling safe.. that's another thing: when dean's a kid all he knows is something killed his mom, there's monsters out there, but dad's gonna make it better :) of course he clung to a perfect image of his father and he stayed with john and modeled himself after his dad. (of course that's interesting to me)

dean loved like his father, learned love from him, because he learned everything else from him too actually, and he became his father. isn't that level of devotion insane. i don't just mean the music, the jacket, the car, or the lifestyle, or the alcoholism and violence later on, i mean more like, the very foundations of who dean is. his morals, his being is based on john. so his entire life his father never left him :) there's something religious about this, and also something that reminds me of platonism: john being the idea of absolute good and true, that dean wants to take inside himself,,, as much of john as possible. he could never be good and heroic enough though (the american hero he was trying to measure up to is like. not real ofc). dean sold his soul for sam, even though that's what john did for him and it was a terrible burden, to be saved, through sacrifice, but he couldn't help it :) and he comes back from hell and is told that his father lasted longer, could withstand more, he'll never be the hero john was.

so, the abuse was passed on (dean violating sam's autonomy because he can't live without sam, and, other stuff like that. i couldn't list everything dean did that was fucked up <3) and the selling your soul for your family, for your kid, was passed on!! horrific, turning into your parent and fucking someone up the same way they fucked you up. i'm very compelled by the winchester family and what they do to each other, because, that's family, to me at least, it's horrendous and the only thing that matters :/

and this is the part where i talk about my dad 🤪 so get this: i fucking hate him. i despise him, i want him dead, the intensity of it scares me. he turns me into something ugly! i can't forgive him and there's really nothing to salvage here, in what i have with him, and i've thought about it a lot. for a while i thought, okay, then i just let him go, see, it's done, i don't care about him, no more pain!! he's nothing to me he can't hurt me! but then turns out that i can't do that, because now that he's dead to me, i have to mourn him. i can't let go, family doesn't work like that! haha silly me!

so i miss the father i never had, and will never have, so much. it's worse that i have no connection to him, in a way, than if it was a love-hate thing. i think it makes sense that i'd latch onto dean winchester's intense connection to his father. i'm envious as fuck :)) <3

i hope you got a bit of a look into what compels me about dean and john. if you have any questions though, if something wasn't clear, i'm happy to explain anything!!

[youuuimeanmee]

What do you think of the chapter 139 of aot? If you’vs read extra 8 pages.

Honestly? It's not that bad at all. I quite like it, in fact.

I'll put my review below to avoid upsetting people who were disappointed with this ending, lol

1. Mikasa and Ymir's Interaction

I like how Ymir spend her last moment with Mikasa. I was annoyed in the previous version how sudden Ymir disappeared without telling Mikasa anything even though she is supposed to be the chosen one, so I'm glad this was fixed. I also like how Mikasa mentioned Ymir's love is like a long nightmare and how Ymir wished she hadn't saved Fritz. Regardless if she truly loves him or it's just a severe Stockholm Syndrome, at least she acknowledged that she's not happy with this relationship and she's suffering. I'd like to make a longer post about this topic but sadly I don't have time nowadays.

2. Mikasa Visiting Eren's Grave

I'm glad she's moving on with another man. I wish Yams has more balls to reveal her husband's face though, haha (show us Jeaaann). I also wish more people could accept the fact that her moving on with her life doesn't mean she'll forget about him, and it's normal to visit his grave after time has passed. No matter what, he's still an important person to her. Heck, I still visit my relative's grave every year even though I no longer remember their face. Maybe it's the cultural difference *shrugs*

Kinda baffles me actually how Eren's grave stays relatively indifferent after years -except for the fence addition. I'm willing to bet that Mikasa, Historia, and the SC did a great job at keeping his grave's identity a secret from the Yeagerist and their family.

3. Paradis' Destruction

Judging from the developed technology and infrastructure, I'd say Paradis managed to survive for 200 years. Its destruction, either because people have forgotten the history again that they failed to learn from it, or someone has a different ideal and stronger than the SC's peaceful ideal, that they take over. Just like Sannes said.

I see many people disappointed because it means Eren's sacrifice is meaningless, Armin's work is useless, Floch is right, yadda yadda. But that's exactly why I like it; it gave us a sense of wonder. Just like we wonder if Mike and Erwin had survived, we wonder if there's another way too.

Tbh I'm not surprised at this outcome. Maybe because I'm more invested in Eren and the SC's journey rather than Paradis as a whole. Ever since the secret of the world is out, the meaning of humanity is not just Paradis anymore. No matter what Eren's reason is, what he did is wrong. I'd be more disturbed if the peace gained from Eren's genocide last forever because to me, it'll bring a bad message that extermination is the key for peace. There is a necessary evil in this world, but if it's done too far, it's not necessary anymore. It's just evil. I think Eren's role in the story is not supposed to be the hero of his people, but rather, a tragic person to give us a reflection of our own humanity and to make us question our definition of freedom.

*Edit: this might be an unnecessary opinion but I wanna add something: I just like Paradis' destruction. Even if Eren wins and Paradis becomes the only nation standing, I want Paradis to eventually fall under the civil war, or economic crisis, or natural disaster due to the imbalanced ecosystem, etc. I also find Erwin's quote, "humanity will never stop fighting itself until it shrinks to a size of one or fewer" to be fitting. Idk, I just want Eren's action to be the wrong solution, that's all. Ofc this is just a personal taste of mine, lol.

3. The Possible Resurface of Titan Power

Again, I like it because it makes us wonder. People might see this as a symbol of hopelessness, but to me, I'm curious to see this boy's journey. Don't @ me, I know Yams won't give us a sequel, and I honestly think it doesn't need to. Maybe this is the ironic way of saying that titans are indeed a necessary evil to bring humanity together? Lol Even though I think that's not true. This is like Yams' way of saying "Please don't stop thinking about Attack on Titan!" and I don't know if I should treat this as a wholesome message or a curse, haha.

TLDR; I'm not saying this ending is perfect. The flaws are plenty, I'm too lazy to point it out and many people already did it soo *shrugs.* I just like the general direction of the ending. I feel like if it's longer and elaborated more, it'll be more compelling. So yeah, personally feel like an improvement from the previous version, but not much. I give this chapter from 6 to 7/10.

Thanks for asking!

[imnotwolverine]

When In Dreams

Angsty Elf!Geralt x OFC one-shot

Summary: As an ancient war awakens, so does a love that knows no bounds. [Lord of the Rings AU with elf!Geralt x human OFC]

Author’s note: A sweet congratulations is in order for dear @mrsaugustwalker​ on her 5k followers. Hereby a one shot based on your prompt-lists! I hope you may enjoy it my dear -- as well as the many other fics you’ll hopefully receive! 

Word count: 3.511

Warnings: NSFW - lots of angst and trauma with a smudge of fluff and smut - mentions of death, physical and emotional trauma, violence, blindness, prostitution and mentions of torture

--

I dreamt of home last night. I could smell the damp grass, feel the hug of threadbare cloth and hear the storm that roared in the distance. And I could see; I could see those heavy clouds as they gathered like wads of grey moss over the once crystal clear skies. I could see them threatening with fire, the white electric serpents of the gods already slithering over deep grey. But it wasn’t the serpents’ fiery, splitting tongues that worried me as much, as did the eastern horizon where the sun still kissed the grass and the loud beat of war drums echoed over the rumble of the storm.

War was coming.

It wasn’t the first time these lands would be wrecked by violence and pain. In fact it was as common as drawing breath in Northern Rohan, and I knew no different life ever since my mother gathered me in her arms. We lost father before I could memorise him, and then some years later, with the pestilence and the failing of crops, my mother was next to pay the inevitable prize that any herb-gatherer would eventually pay; with the point of a finger and the burning of a stack of wood she was gone and I was suddenly cast-out and alone, my life as I once knew it now but a faint memory.

I left, only to start my new life a few miles east of the village, where I found this abandoned cot near the Great Dwimordene Forest where demons danced and flesh eating faeries feasted. I never dared enter the dark grove, but my long-kept fear for the great ghost stories didn’t hold footing either. I never saw them, those faeries and demons, the months turning years without a single sighting. But I did see him. Accidentally at first, his face torn between anguish and surprise as I just watched him from the tall grass, his yellow eyes sparkling like golden treasure in the shadows. 

I had never seen the like of a man like him before, but even long after he disappeared - just as quickly as he had appeared - I thought of those honeyed eyes and his pale long hair. Was he one of the forest demons? If so, why didn’t he come to claim me? Roast me on a spit and dance around the flames? Long days, weeks and months passed and as the memory of his eyes faded, the eastern horizon became restless, the storm that now brewed in the sky forming a battlecry for the courageous warriors who fought there, their wives and children left behind. 

Returning home after the gathering of whatever meagre supplies I could find between burned crops and crevices - roots and herbs mostly, I felt the first tears spilling from the heavens, cold and bitter like the saltwater that would soon billow down motherly cheeks. I hastened my pace on the beat of the drum and thunder, my eyes reverting back to the east, where the last of the sun was now swallowed whole, spitting out only darkness and death, death that rode a pale horse. 

Literally though. It looked like someone was speeding towards me. A rider.

I still wear the marks of that moment, in mind, body and soul, my now unseeing eyes remembering the pained expression of the rider’s face, an empty cry bursting from his lips. The white manes of his majestic mount danced in the fierce wind as the horse tried to free himself from the desperate clutch of his struggling rider. But alas, it was hardly a battle in the end, for the horse was too spooked and the rider too pained. With a thud his body fell down on the wet grass and the horse eloped, fleeing from the scene.

In that moment I realised the cause of his pain. A crude arrow stuck from the rider’s back, straight through the layers of leather and heavy cloak that now lay motionless in the waving sea of green. Was he dead? My eyes searched for his attacker, but all I saw was windy waving grass and sharp solid rock; the bare bones of Rohan, my home. And his grave now too, probably. With a hurried pace I forgot about my return home, my hair now dancing around my weary eyes as I ate the distance between myself and the man, my fingertips uncovering braided long brown hair and peculiar armour; swirling and elegant, which for a moment made me wonder if he was one of the famed Rohirrim horse lords.  

There was no time for wonder though, for Rohan’s earth was restless. A deep growl thundered out over the storm and in an instant I forgot how to breath as death came again. This time not riding a pale horse, but a beast that I hadn’t seen the like of before. Horse-sized, houndlike and deadly, his daggersharp teeth rattled in the chase they were laying on the lifeless man..and me. Me. Me. Me-me-me…I froze in place and let slow seconds eat away, until finally I gathered my senses, my only option now being the one that presented itself by the dagger I found beneath the man’s cloak.

Silvery sharp, it gleamed in the low light of the mighty storm, a storm that roared in my blood now too. I felt sick in my empty stomach, for I knew not how to defend myself, my shaking hand betraying my inaptness. The beast and his rider saw it too, the rider letting out a orcish cackle of horrific amusement. My heart dropped even lower as our eyes met, his redbrown beads shimmering like blood diamonds on black marred skin. He was hideous. And unfortunately for me, graceful too. With a simple hop he got off his great beast, his split tongue flaking hungrily over his barely existent lips.

He spoke then, but I didn’t know what that snake-like tongue spoke of, though I could guess it was most likely vile..and something to do with his crotch, which he grasped for illustratory purpose. Again I realised that I couldn’t move, my feet seemingly swallowed by the grass that danced and danced - almost as if taunting me for my own inability to move. For a moment I wished I was dead already, my heart thudding nervously in my ears as the orc strode closer, his blistered black hands dragging out a cruel dagger, jagged edges still glistening with blood.

The war was here.

‘Please.’ I begged pitifully, but all the orc did was cackle louder, his horrid tongue once again flaking over his lips with a hunger. And again he spoke, and again I didn’t understand, my own lip now shaking from more than just the icy rain, the heaven water rolling down my cheeks mingling with bitter tears.

After all these years of misery, this is how I’d die. Alone, abandoned and scared. If only I was as brave as the shield maidens. If only I knew how to.. The orc reached out and I surprised not only him, but also myself when I lunged forward, my dagger finding the soft tissue of his belly. He cried out, his once amused lips now curling down in disapproval as his own dagger was raised. Our eyes met and by some odd twist of destiny, he hesitated, offering me yet another opportunity to grasp for what little honour I could find in shoving him off, down onto the ground.

This time I was less lucky though, his free hand taking me down with him, our bodies now rolling for life and death in the restless green sea. Somewhere in the tumble he too had lost his dagger, his freed up hand instead opting to rip out my dagger from his black oozing wound. What happened next was worse than the death I anticipated. Worse than life up to that point had ever been. His beady eyes burned into me as he choked me in a deadly grip and took from me what I would never regain.

He gauged out my eyes.

From here on the world literally became black, my eyes no longer crying for they were not there at all. And as faith would have it, he paid for it as I cried bloody tears, the Valar striking him down with all their might. At least, I think that happened as I heard his sullen cries. Perhaps it had been the faery demons instead. Either way, I wished they would be remorseful and offer me the only thing I now wanted; a swift and painless death.

—

Gasping I sat up, my empty eyes blinking even though there was nothing to see. A warm hand on my naked back soothed me back into welcoming arms, the death I had once pleaded for seeming so silly now.

‘Sssh melleth-nîn.’ Geralt’s deep oak voice pulled me back to the land of the living. The land of the elves. My new home. ‘I’ve got you.’

I wished he had. And that he could keep me. But with my awakening, I too realised that I was to start yet another day of misery. Of whispers that betrayed that our slow-simmering relationship was frowned upon. The war had felt like a beautiful start of something new, but reality learned that the elves, despite the great tales of Beren and Luthien, were little fond of relationships between men and kin.

I sighed and turned in his arm, trying to imagine how his golden eyes were now looking at me with a silent warmth. How his lips curled slightly. In fact, I knew they curled up, my fingertips almost unwittingly tracing them. ‘Good morning,’ He rumbled gently.

‘I guess.’ I said, betraying my melancholy, his cheek instantly rubbing into my touch, like a dog would to console his owner.

‘I see more of those guesses each day and it pains me.’ His hand found my cheek and brushed away a tear that strayed there.

‘I’m sorry.’ My lip trembled as the pain of being unwanted tightened around my heart, ‘I just…’

‘Ssh, my sweet. I will not abandon you. You must know that. You keep my heart,’ His large hand placed over my heart. ‘and anything else is unimportant. I know the cause of your sorrow, and though Lórien has been my home, it is no longer. You are.’

‘What are you..?’

‘Come away with me. Let us find ourselves a home where we are both welcome. Both can live and laugh and love.’ He pressed a kiss to my forehead, then my nose..and then my empty eyelids - a thing I both hated for it emphasised how imperfect I was, but also loved, for he loved me all the same.

Our love was literally blind. From the moment he carried me out of the rain and into his forest, to the first time he and I confessed that there was more than friendship between us. And though it pained me to take him from his beloved Lórien, it was clear that the life we wished for, wouldn’t be lived out here between the Mallorn trees. 

—

Our new home would be, quite fittingly, the Last Homely House, as was decided upon after he sent out requests far and wide. The good lord Elrond was welcoming to our indefinite stay and so, with the simmering war still pestering the lands, we started our arduous travel through long dark nights, our days spent in inns or trees.  

I could feel the ache of his heart, like it were my own, whenever he laid his hand upon bark, only to feel that these trees were silent. The world of men we travelled through was crude and harsh and even with his hair braided back and ears cloaked, people knew he was a foreign thing, his tree-like height and strength making them gasp and whisper when we set foot in small towns. 

But Geralt, my dear, didn’t relent. His warrior heart kept a steady beat as our feet again moved on, to yet another town, another waylay until the sun would come and travels were too dangerous. The long nights and days made us weary and cold, but our love held fierce as the fires on the mountain pass. We slept and wept and loved as one, and as our journey was soon to bring us to Rivendell, we felt that at long last the world would be kind to us. That our lives would find peace. 

We were fools to think such a thing, for we never set foot beyond the mountains, our treacherous journey ending in yet more pain as our destinies unwound. 

--

‘Geralt?’ I reached out for his warmth, but the cave was deserted, the meagre fire we had stoked gone cold. Outside the winter howled, silencing any other signals I could possibly pick up. I tried to ease my mind as I wrapped my cloak around my shivering frame. It's alright, don’t worry. He’s alright. He’s alright. I repeated the mantra as I listened and waited. Perhaps he had gone out. Elves were little sensitive to the wear and tear of extreme weather, so perhaps he had just left to retrieve more wood for the fire. Perhaps he had to relieve himself. Perhaps he...

‘NOOOOOooo.’ A cry echoed through the valley, soon followed by more voices. In tongues I knew too well now. Orcs. Quite instinctively I ducked away, hands following the rough rock as I tried with utmost terror to hear what was afoot. The voices were getting nearer and, where last meeting an orc I had frozen, now I ran, abandoning the cave for the bitter snowy wind that cut through my hair. 

And as I did, I let my hands follow the solid rock on my right, as my feet pushed forward. I trusted myself not to fail this time. Not now. Not again. This time I wouldn’t get myself in trou..

‘NOOOOOOOOOO.’ The heart crushing cry returned, now even more pained and broken. And his. It was his. I knew it was his. I felt my knees crack beneath the sudden weight on my shoulders, my heart giving way to the strength as our bond was stretched further and further. 

I sank down into the icy embrace of the mountains and realised that faith again, had decided I was to be alone. But not dead. I was never found by the orcs that took him from me and for days I then walked, my feet burning blisters and my skin bitten with ice. But none of it hurt as much as the loss of him, for whenever I heard the wind, I heard him too, his desperate cry calling out for me. Begging me to find him. 

But how, I did not know, for my blind eyes lead me more astray with every step. 

--

For a time all was forgotten. Our life together, those months of blessing, had become but dreams. The war wagered on and the lands remained restless as my journey continued, though I never made it to the last place I hoped to call home. Instead I drifted, my feet carrying me slowly over the licking waves of grass. And instead of a sweet life, again I was met with crudeness and pain, my ageing body the ship that broke through every storm. I ended my long drift in an inn, and where my heart still dreamed, my limbs were weary and in exchange for a bed I was accepting of the faith of lonely female flesh. 

They used me, they did. And each time a grunt with hairy thighs ground himself into me with pathetic whimpers and moans, I’d remember him instead. Smooth and gentle, great power wrapped in silk and whispers, his sing-song tongue telling me of the moon, the stars and the trees. How they all came to be, and would remain until his immortal days were long stretched and his soul weary. In his one hundred years he had already spoke broken and hushed, but whenever he was in between my thighs, his touch came alive and his brooding thoughts spilled from eager fingertips. Even now, years later, I could feel my skin burn with lust and love on the places where others now held on. 

All I could think of was him. 

--

‘Wench.’ A brusk rap on the door awoke me from a restless sleep. I wasn’t sure whether it was day or night anymore, my life seeming one never-ending loop of misery. 

‘Open.’ I croaked, my hands closing the coarse material of the robe that kept whatever little dignity I still had left. 

The door opened and the voice of the keeper sounded oddly kind to the customer he had managed to reel into his whoring house. The war had meant long lines of problematic and abusive customers, but apparently this wasn’t one of them. At least, not yet. And perhaps I kept my hopes too high and was this customer only loved, for he had paid handsomely to do whatever. 

The door closed again and, hearing the enthused whistle of the keeper, I knew that my guest was probably here, despite it still being so very quiet. 

I was slightly taken aback when he touched me, a rough thumb brushing over my hollowed cheek, moving over a scar I had received from one of my less loving clients. 

‘G’day.’ I quickly lowered my face and gestured at the bed, hoping he would be a quick and simple shag. But he wasn’t. Instead I finally heard him, heard his breath, a quiet hiccup barely managing to hide the sorrow that spilled from his hand that now returned to my face, brushing away the hair I had placed there to hide the wrinkles that had started to take away my youth. 

With every passing second I felt more restless, the touch of this man far more abrasive than I wished it to be. ‘You have received the rates from the keeper?’ 

A short silence followed and then suddenly he was there, around me, long arms entangling me in an embrace that pushed all air and sorrow out of my bones. ‘Melleth..’ He cried and instantly I remembered these arms, this smell, the tickle of long hair and the oak of his voice.

Geralt. 

My fingers braced him, finding he too had changed. He had become sinewy thin and as his lips crushed into mine, I felt that his cheeks too had lost their innocence. Scars riddled over his once unblemished skin and as I felt his silent tears on my fingertips I knew that a tree of a man like him wouldn’t cry so simply. He had suffered as much, if not more. 

What followed was the physicalisation of a dream I had long kept to keep myself going. The dream that one day he’d find me and love me again. The dream that had him unwrap me from these rough wools, so I could feel his fingertips caress my flesh. 

His rough fingers felt like home and as he carefully placed me on the bed I wished for the moment to not end, our lips locking in luxurious long kisses and soft hums and moans. I tried to forget about what I must look like to him, for it was now not only my blind eyes that made me imperfect. I had grown old, the chance of ever conceiving a child probably as slim as that he would love me like he once did. 

And yet, here he was, worshipping the remains of our love until the flame was rekindled and the bond that had grown so thin and weary, once more felt as strong as it had once been. 

We were one again. 

I felt it as he stretched me around him, I felt it as he rocked me to my first true release in years. I felt it as he too joined me in the epiphany of love, my womb welcoming his gift with lust, longing and sweetness. Salty tears streamed down our cheeks as we slowly rediscovered the planes of our flesh; his once beautiful skin now marred and haunted with the many years he had been captured in dungeons of evil. 

For a moment I wished I could look at him, could look into those treasure golden eyes and see him truly. See the pain and the pleasure that probably kindled behind the tears he cried. But never again I would, and so I just touched his cheek and laid him to rest on my breast, the release of finding each other being enough for now, the restless pub downstairs making the only sound above the soft hush of our exhausted pants. 

That night we dreamed together; of the short life we could share before my old bones would become to brittle and break. We dreamed of meadows and kisses of the grass beneath our unmarred skin. We dreamed of our first time, gentle hands drifting over the ocean of shivering gooseflesh, anticipation licking at our hearts. For it was then decided, that our love was stronger. And again he whispered: ‘Come away with me.’ 

--

End

--

General Tagsquad: @harrysthiccthighss @tumblnewby @magdelen69 @thereisa8ella @mary-ann84 @darkbooksarwin @summersong69 @madbaddic7ed @luclittlepond @maroonmolly @tillthelandslide​ @just-a-normal-fangirl18​ @hell1129-blog

[littlemessyjessi]

“Chasing Jessi”:  A Sirius Black Story: Plus Size OC: Chapter 7: Tinkerbell & The Lost Boy

————————-

Sirius Black Imagine Turned Story

Re-Written and Edit of an old story of mine I had on Mibba that deserved some more love and attention, lol.

Sirius Black x Jess Scamander (OC, OFC, PLUS SIZE OC, PLUS SIZE OFC)

————————————

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

Sirius Black was lounging comfortably in his bunk. He hadn't even bothered to change out of the KISS shirt and black flannel pajama bottoms at this point. He was reading through a book that he'd borrowed from Jess. Contrary to popular belief... Sirius actually loved to read. 

He’d rather die than admit that but he’d learned from an early age that it could easily provide an escape from his horrible daily life. 

Again though, he’d rather die than admit and let someone see him doing it. 

He was up rather early on a Sunday morning- something that used to be obscenely out of character before he played Quidditch. Now, it seemed that his biological clock was against him. However, it proved rather useful when wanting the shower to yourself or getting to breakfast while everyone was still in bed.  He'd been to breakfast already and was currently just relaxing for he had been informed by a tired looking Lily Evans that Jess was not coming down for breakfast this morning. He had been slightly disappointed but guessed that it was because the two girls had been up late talking. He figured that girls did that just as much as boys did. Although, for Jess's sake he hoped not because James had nearly driven him mad last night by both talking about every detail of his and Lily's date and all but demanding the same from Sirius. Honestly, boys were just as bad as girls when it came to gossip. 

If not worse.  However, he supposed he could just try and read this ridiculous book of hers until she awoke. He had really just settled in and was beginning to immerse himself into this fantasy world when.... "Sirius!!!" His brows furrowed and he glanced over at Remus who was studying on the floor in front of his bunk but he only shrugged.

"Sirius! Ooof! Sorry! Sirius!" "What in the name of Merlin?" he pondered as he sat the book down and went to the door to see none other than his hyperactive girlfriend balancing a package on her hip and apologizing to a fourth year boy who went white as a ghost at the sight of her. "You're ...you're not supposed to be up here." the boy said. "Oh, I'm sorry." she said to him. "I'm just looking for Sirius. See, I have something I have to-" The boy was too shaken to speak. To be fair, she was still wearing her pajamas and he was a fourteen year old boy, most likely with a crush on her. And she was only wearing a big floppy yellow smiley face shirt and some rather short multi colored shorts. "Over here, love." Sirius smirk. She turned to face him with a relieved smile looking so odd with her floral cat ear headband and her big blue monster house shoes. "Thanks, anyway." she told the boy and gave him a one armed hug. Sirius almost snorted when the boy looked as if he may pass out. The poor boy probably didn't know whether he found her attractive, terrifying or strange....or all three. "What are you doing up here?" he asked her as she came to a stop in front of him, "And in your pajamas no less?" "I have something for you." she said simply but he smirked and she smacked him in the stomach, "Not that!" "Aw, and it's almost my birthday too." he moaned playfully and he opened the door and let her him. "Hello, Remus." she greeted the studious green eyed boy. "Oh, uh, hi Jess." he said a little surprised to see her there, especially in her pjs.  "Remus, she beats me." Sirius wailed dramatically. "She wounds me." "If it's to your pride..." he said. "I suggest she do it some more. Your head is far too big as it is." Jess grinned in victory. Sirius gasped, "Moony, old boy, I can't believe it! Everyone's mistreating me and it's almost my birthday!" "Sirius, if you don't come sit down, then I'm going to open your present." she informed him smartly. "Present?" he asked. "What present?" "This one." she said tapping the lid of the green box. "You got me a present?" he asked curiously taking a seat on the bunk as the box lay between them.  "No." she said. "Well, yes. I did. But this isn't it. This is from my mum and dad." "What?" he asked in disbelief. "From mum and dad." she repeated. "She sent a blasted howler as well. Damn near threatened my life if I opened it. So I'm guessing it's rather good and most likely involving food. Best open it sooner than later." Sirius' hands shook just a little as he pulled the box open and cringed as a howler floated out. It was that same familiar shape that he recognized as the ones Jess usually got. From previous experiences, he was expecting yelling but relaxed when he saw the letter transform and the dark wax sealed lips give him a smile. It began to speak in a soothing tone, "Hello, Dear. Happy Birthday! I do hope you have a good one this year and that you get this package in time. Jess mentioned that you had a particular liking for toffee and fudge so I do hope you like what's inside. She also mentioned that you loved music and so there is something extra special inside from my husband. He said that he wanted it to go someone who could appreciate her as he much as he did. I wasn't allowed to see so I'm trusting that it's appropriate and if it's it not, you'd best tell me so I can tan his hide! Everything is under the shrinking charm so all you need to do is use the Engorgio charm. If you have trouble with it, I would advise you to ask Lily rather than Jess. She means well but she tends to get terribly excited and...blow things up. We are so excited to see Jess making such lovely friends! She speaks very highly of you and bless your soul, you must be patient to deal with her antics! I do hope she isn't being too rough. Some of those pictures... Merlin, I feared she'd nearly kill you with that one on the broom. I've told her about that! Nevertheless, any friend of hers is a friend to us. Welcome to the family, sweet boy. Have a wonderful birthday, dear! May you have many more! P.S. Do not let my child con you out of your presents with her innocent face. I know that she 'seems' sweet but if you give in...you'll regret it. Trust me. Her father has been wrapped around her finger since she was six seconds old. " When the letter was finished it ripped itself up and turned to ash. Sirius was a little disappointed. It had been so nice...he had kind of wanted to keep it. He glanced up to find Remus looking at him curiously and Jess looking mildly offended. "She makes me sound like some kind of animal." she scoffed. "Well..." Remus smirked. "I'd say more reptilian. You do have a certain, what was it you called it Padfoot? Dragon lady...quality about you." "Remus Lupin!" she scolded him. "You are a booger head and I am not talking to you anymore!" "I have chocolate." he said lifting his brows at her and holding up a piece. "All is forgiven." she said racing over to join him. "So what did she get you?" she piped up from her spot with Remus on the floor. Sirius reached into the box to pull out a container and he smiled. "Toffee." he smiled. "Oooh!" she gushed and jumped on his bed. "That's mum homemade toffee! It's really good! She won a blue ribbons for it at the local Muggle fair!" He pulled another out and observed the white chunks with rainbow sprinkles. "Birthday cake fudge." he smiled as he read the label aloud. "It's really good." Jess nodded. "It tastes like white chocolate and cake batter. Mum makes it for Dad every year on his birthday. I bet she had to make two batches!" He pulled out a jar of something and for just a moment it made him think of firewhiskey but he smiled when he read the label. 'Sirius, dear, this is a new recipe I'm trying out. It's called Toffee Syrup. We like to put it in porridge, tea, pumpkin juice, coffee...come to think of it, anything really. I've added just a bit something special to this one. I'd love to hear what you think.' "Mum'll kill me for telling you this but it's really good you mix it with firewhiskey and put it over ice cream." Jess piped up and he lifted his brows at her. "And here I thought you were sweet and innocent." he commented. She laughed, "Sirius, we both know I'm far from either of those." He pulled out a black knitted hat. "Oh, Mum, doesn't want you to catch cold!" she wailed dramatically. "Don't cry on it." he teased. "But she stitched it with love, Sirius!" she wailed again. He resisted the urge to shove her off the bed when something caught his eye. A small black case and upon further inspection he realized that it was a guitar case. 'Engorgio.' he murmured and enlarged it before pulling the zipper open to reveal a beautiful black acoustic guitar. "Ophelia!" Jess squeaked. "What?" Sirius asked her. "It's Ophelia." she said. "It's Dad's guitar. He let me name her when I was a little girl." Sirius frowned, "Oh, maybe you should have it then." "Nah." she shook her head. "I'm rubbish at guitar. I'm a drums kind of girl...much to mum's dismay." She grinned wickedly and pretended to play the drums. 

She never failed to make him laugh.  He pulled it out and ran his hand over it before glancing into the case and seeing the matching strap and an envelope. He opened the envelope to reveal a small note and a silver chain with a matching guitar pick on the end. "Hello, Sirius. I hope you have a very Happy Birthday. Jess tells me that you love music along with many other things. She seems quite fond of you and speaks of you quite a lot. Which is considerably out of character for her. You have to understand that for the longest time when she wrote home...it was usually to tell us that Lily's eyebrows had grown back or that she'd was very close to finding redcap colony. Naturally, as her father, I was a little defensive about you at first. However, you seem like an alright lad and she seems to take a liking to you. Any man that will willingly let her braid rainbow colored yarn into their hair....well you're alright with me, kid. I hope you have a great birthday and you enjoy old Ophelia. P.S. If you press the guitar pick, you can record yourself. Comes in handy when you're working on songs. ' Sirius carefully sealed the letter back up and placed everything delicately back in the box. "Sirius?" Jess whispered. "You have really, really good parents." he said quietly. Remus quietly left the room, deciding it was best to give the two of them some time. "I know." she said softly. Sirius just nodded, still just slightly shaking until she placed her hand on his. "Maybe you can meet them sometime. You know, to properly welcome you to the family and all." she said. There was more to that statement than either of them were willing to talk about at that moment. Grey eyes caught green and they just stared for a moment. She decided to break the tension with some comedy. "Mum may be swayed by your charms but I will not being giving you your present from me until it's your actual birthday." she said. "You got me a present?" he questioned. "Yes, and I'm not telling so don't even try!" she scolded as she stuck her finger in his face. He smirked at her challenge as he carefully placed the box underneath his bed and grabbed her ankle. "Not even if I do...." he trailed off as he hovered above her neck. "This." She bit her lip when his lips caressed her skin. "No!" she cried out. "Don't use your tricks!" "How about here?" he asked kissing her nose. "Never." she whispered. "Alright." he said. "But I think I'll try one more." "I'll never surrender, Captain Hook!" she called out, grinning wickedly as she saw her book on his bed side table. "Now, now Tinkerbell. Let's not be rash." he teased. "Now give me some of that pixie dust." She erupted into a fit of giggles, "Sirius Black, Lord of the Cheeseballs!" He tickled her relentlessly, "Surrender!" "Never!" she said rolling out from underneath him and racing into the halls, "Lost Boys, unite! We have to defend ourselves against the terrible Captain Hook!" The muggleborns got it, thought it was weird, but go it. Everyone...just kind of wrote it off as Jess being Jess. And James Potter stood at the foot of stairs looking at his friend with an odd expression on his face. "What?" Sirius asked. James shook his head. "Nothing. It's just...you two are clearly into some weird things." he said. Sirius laughed and shoved his friend along into his room. The thing was...he didn't mind her little games. He loved them almost as much as he did her.

Chapter Six

Chapter Eight

Hello, loves! How do we feel about Sirius’ early bday present from Jess’ parents?  How are we liking their relationship so far?  

I’d love to what you think! Please feel free to hit up the ask box, blast the comment section or reblog with your thoughts and feelings! Next chappie coming soon!

All my love darlings!

Kenny

————————-

@frankie2902

@pleasantdreamqueen   @becrazy–beyou

@littledeadrottinghood @blackirisposts

@therealmrshale @woodworthti666@thegreatirene@fanfictionandjunk

@angelus320

@alanlizzingtonshore@buriednurbckyrd@disneymarina@tubbypeachwriting

@sullybot @georgiagrl1990 @whenallsaidanddone

@mischiefnevermanaged94 @inumorph

@congurl

@centerhabit

@bubblymusiclover13

@qtmeryr

@thisismysecrethappyplace

@tnupsweetpie

@alisoncdariel

@hannahloveslife

@wormyboi

@blackirisposts

@maggyme13

@amethyst09

@ibenkastberg

@fanfics1717 @mrscasnovak

@thickemadame @babygirl-barnes

@theladyofmasks @aengsty

@kalliravenne​

@witchygagirl​

@gruffle1​

@writtenbywolfie​

@kribbydahhufflepuff

@leah-halliwell92​

@thelastwildangel​

@silent-browser​

@simplymagical​@simplymagicalwritings​

@lilac​flicker

@malulucifer

@minxyvixen​

@moncheriemoony

@queenlexusloverofbts​

@criminalyetminimal​

@plus-size-reader​

@owenniasstars​  

Love, Kenny

[boogiewrites]

Which is harder? Being honest or you?

Characters: Billy Butcher x OFC

Summary:  She's been involved in the messy world of The Boys for years now, same sad story, a Supe killed her husband, and now she's out for revenge. The years pile up, and so do the stresses and anniversaries of deaths. On a night after the death of her husband, she finds herself worried about Butcher making it back from a job. Is it the booze that makes her so honest with him when he asks her what's wrong? Is it the booze that makes her admit to what she really needs that night? Or was it inevitable between them all along?

Warnings/Tags: Sexual content. Spanking/Slapping’ Rough, slight Dom/Sub undertones. Bed sharing. Enemies to friends to lovers. Inevitable chemistry. 

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.) Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

Her nails tapped an unsteady rhythm against the cheap countertop of the motel room kitchen. She’d been alone for two days now and although not unfamiliar with the isolation, she had been due company for over 12 hours now.

There are lots of aspects of living off the grid that you can get used to. It’s amazing what the brain can start to see as normal that once would’ve made you piss yourself and then faint. That was the sort of life that she lived now. So far removed from the game nights and Netflix, sleeping in on weekends and boozy brunches that she has once so blindly taken for granted. Now there was sleeping with one eye open, free motel HBO on occasion and rushed check-ins with others like her. The booze was still the same, but it was used as a tool, a vice now to forget.

With the half-empty bottle of bourbon still grasped in her hand in the outdated and questionably sterile smelling room, she stares at the sliver of light coming between the thick curtains that kept her hidden from the outside world. The drinking wasn’t so bad when she had others to do it with, but when she was alone it led her mind to let loose those thoughts she fought so hard to keep stowed away during her waking hours. This is where she found herself now. In a sleep-deprived, drunken haze that was leaning heavily on paranoia and exhaustion.

Billy should have been back by now, she keeps thinking on a broken record in her head. Never known for his punctuality, the nature of the job they set out to do made his absence make her nervous. It reminded her of the night she stayed up waiting for her husband. The night he never came home.

She had a back story, same as the rest of the boys, she was nothing special among them. Dead spouse, Supe behind it, revenge and rage fueling her and keeping her warm at night. Billy had recruited her the same way as Hughie. Same speech, same lies, same Butcher.

It used to bother her when she found out that Billy wasn’t as connected to her as it felt initially. But she decided to use it, to kill off that bit of her that died with her husband and be someone else now. Someone who didn’t believe anything anyone said, someone who could take a stand and do what was right even if it was hard and most radically different, someone who could kill. After the first, it seemed like, what was another one? Her terms of endearment turned to insults and swearing and soon grizzled was a look she didn’t run from. It made life a lot easier, it certainly made working with a man like Billy Butcher easier. Most days. But today was not one of those days.

With another year passing unceremoniously of her husband's death a few days ago, that comforting pull of nostalgia was hard on her thoughts. And the booze wasn’t helping. Another hour passes, another inch went from the bottle and she decides to try to tune out the world for a bit. It was a luxury that is rarely afforded to them now, but this room had a full-size tub and she had some dollar store bath bombs she’d lifted and she wasn’t about to let Billy catch wind of her feminine indulgence and it didn’t seem like he was in any rush to get back. If he wasn’t dead.

A hot bath still has the same baptismal effect as it always had. She felt cleaner and lighter. A woman looked back at her in the mirror, contrary to the usual sexless human form she viewed herself as for ease of functioning. With the ends of her hair damp and curled, falling past her shoulders, the longest it had been since she was a child and only due to a lack of visits to a hair salon and not a conscious choice. It wasn’t exactly something she could take the time to do nowadays. Her skin shone bright with the lotion she kept in her bag, sinking in after the heat opened up her pores. Her cheeks were flushed pink as her nipples as she ran her hand through her hair and shrugged at her reflection. Life on the run was hard on your body, but she has to admit she hasn’t looked better in recent memory. Muscles that visibly moved under the skin from training, and a layer of fat from diner food to keep her looking young despite the years that kept piling up. Her eyes were really where the age showed, but the things they’d seen also added to that in the form of lack of sleep and PTSD.

Walking out of the bathroom with a plume of steam following her in a tank top with a sarcastic line on it she’d grabbed at a truck stop and the most basic cotton panties in a 6-pack she’d grabbed just as unceremoniously from a dollar store. She padded out in fuzzy socks into the tiled floor that lead into the small kitchenette. No matter the nasty muck she got herself elbow deep into on a regular basis, she wasn’t going to let some random disease be what killed her off that she’d surely catch from walking around the motel carpet barefoot. She got one of the highball glasses by the coffee pot and a handful of ice cubes plunked into it before a healthy pour of straight bourbon followed. She looked at her phone in the counter, it was now late and there were no signs of Billy.

“Where the fuck are you Butch?” She mutters before sighing and taking a sip.

“Ya worried bout me, love? Carin’ innit a look I’m accustomed to seein’ on ya.” The man in question responds and she sputters a dribble down her chin in surprise.

”Christ.” She groans, taking a washcloth and dabbing at her shirt.

“Far from it.” He grins, taking his boots off as he watches her from his spot on the bed with his usual smugness.

“You just stand in dark corners unannounced after being…” She looks to be phone again. “Almost a day late on arrival? You get off on scaring women or something?”

“Nah. Not my kink.” He shakes his head. “I had to do it at my own pace, this one. Got a bit messy.”

“Could’ve let someone know? Four more hours and I would’ve been out of here.”

“I couldn’t exactly ring ya up now could I? And I wasn’t four hours later, I’m here now so calm down, keep ya knickers on and pour me whatever ya got.”

“Not a problem.” She rolls her eyes. “I take it everything’s as it should be?”

“More or less.” He takes the glass from her hand as she sits across from him on the other queen bed in the room. “How bout you?”

“Finished early.” She says taking a long drink. Billy can see the tiredness in her eyes as they close and savor the bourbon for a brief second. Her movements weren’t sharp, neither were her words. Although for him she rarely had many.

“And started drinkin' the same from the looks of it.”

“Maybe. Waiting on you, what else was I supposed to do? What took you so long?”

“Had to make another stop before I came back.”

“Where?”

He stops with his elbows on his knees and gives her a once over. “Why?”

“We’re stuck together for the foreseeable future, I think I should know what you’re up to.”

“It’s nothing you need to know. If ya did, I’d tell you. Don’t you have any trust in me after all these years?”

“No.” She states obviously with a laugh at his ridiculous claim. “I’m not a fucking idiot. So tell me where you were.”

“Job ran long. Had to follow to a secondary location.”

“You’re full of shit.” She retorts with a raised brow as she leans on one hand onto the scratchy comforter beneath her.

“Can never get it past you can I?” He tried his charm with a grin and tilt of his head.

“No, you can’t so I don’t know why you INSIST on continuously trying.” She answers with a wave of her glass.

“In my nature to defy.” Is his deflecting, Cheeky answer.

“Although I can agree with that, you’re still avoiding my question.”

“I went to see someone and came back here. Job did run long. That ain’t a lie.”

She purses her lips and studies his face and finds him honest. “Alright...who?”

“Don’t know em” he shrugs and blinks slowly.

“BUTCHER!” She groans loudly and throws her head back. “You’re fucking exhausting!”

“Fanks, love. I’m a bit prideful of my endurance ya know.”

She takes her foot and kicks his shin.

“Fuckin hell, been beaten up enough the past few days let’s not add to it now, yeah?”

“Just fucking tell me then, asshole. Or I’ll smash this glass on that thick skull of yours.”

“I’m inclined to believe you.” He gruffs out at her before rubbing the back of his head. “I went to see Sindy.” He blurts it out quickly as if it would be less painful to deliver the news fast like ripping off a band-aid.

“Of fucking COURSE you did.” She announces her disapproval loudly to the ceiling and stands.

“She had some info for me.” He begins to defend himself against the outpouring of hateful glares she was sending his way. Sure Sindy had a track record of fucking Supe’s. She’s even lured them into a trap once and it only took one time to learn a lesson for her but clearly Butcher was willing to fuck up again.

“Was it about 6 inches inside her? Or am I being too generous?” She snarks back with a swing of hip and hand as she walks back to the counter. There was no care for Butcher seeing her in so little, it was all part of their lifestyle. Not much left to mystery when you got into the situations they did.

“What? You fink ats Why I went?” His posture straightens as he watches her move away.

“The girl is practically on her knees with her tongue out for you Butch. You’re as close to a Supe as us humans get. You’ve gotten close and she gets wet for anything to do with them so...yeah. I do think that’s why.” She stays with clinking ice cubes rattling in her glass with her drunkenly expressive hand movements.

“That fascination with Supes is why I believed her when she said she had something on Homelander.”

“All she’s got for him is daddy issues.Same As what she’s got for you.”

“That’s not very feminist of ya now innit?” He points out with an accusatory hand as he stands. He’d need another drink to deal with whatever mood she was in tonight.

“I don’t give a fuck. Man.” She says with a furrowed brow and another burning gulp. “I don’t trust her. And neither should you.”

“I gave her nothin', she gave me the info. No risk on my behalf.”

“Except what you night catch.” She mutters into her glass.

“What’s up your arse tonight?” He demands as he rests his arms onto the counter and studies her face.

“Fucking .nothing.”

“And THAT everyone.” He speaks to an imaginary crowd. “Is called a textbook lie.”

“You being a dumb ass is grating on me.” She retorts.

“That is more believable but ya not quite there.” He motions for more with his hand to her.

“You’re a reckless twat who would rather fuck that barely legal liar than let your partner know you’re alive.”

“You really fink I went to fuck her?” His response has a laugh to it.

“That’s what I said isn’t it?”

“Why in the FUCK do you fink I’d do that?” He stands and laughs. “You’re fuckin ridiculous sometimes, love.” He chuckles as he takes a drink.

“Because I have eyes? Because you’re a man and she’s...a tiny little... young thing.” She speaks plainly with an outstretched hand to lay out her points.

“What use I got for that, yeah?”

His answer catches her off guard and she blinks rapidly, detecting no lie.

“Man like me? With something like her? Nah, mate.” He shakes his head. “That child's got nothin’ what interests me but the information she leaks.” He states with high brows and a haughty delivery. “I’d rather have a wank than fuck her.” He lowers his voice and leans forward. “Nothin she can offer I need. Not that it is, in fact, any of your business, but in the name of honesty n that, I’ve never been much for that… young and dumb and full of cum thing what she plays at.”

She doesn’t respond, her state of inebriation catching her by surprise as she visibly reacts to his words with a tilted head.

“What? Ya don’t believe me? You can tell when I’m lyin’, Betta than anyone else, what do you fink?”

“You’re telling the truth and that’s so rare I’m shocked.” She responds in a deadpan delivery.

“There she is. Back with the insults. See? I prefer that to someone pretendin’ everyfing I say or do is impressive. I’m a realist, love I got no time for it.” He informs with a sweep of his arm. “In fact, I’d bet you’re a better fuck than her. Real woman like you, eh?”

“Oh fuck off Butch.” She rolls her eyes and takes another drink, suppressing an honest blush. “Can’t believe I was worried you wouldn’t come back. Would’ve been a BLESSING.” She taunts back.

“THERE IT IS! You were worried bout me.” He accuses her with a pointed finger. “That’s why ya bein’ such a mouthy cunt.”

“And what’s your excuse?” She retorts.

“Missed you too, love.” He winks.

“I said I was worried about you. Not that I missed you. Don’t mince words.” She points back.

“I was worried bout you as well.” He observes as she begins to move away and pass him towards the bed.

“Why? I’ve been where I was supposed to be.”

“Because I know what week it is.” He says it with his back turned as to not make her feel more vulnerable about it being said out loud.

She feels a lump in her throat as she meets his eyes after a heavy beat, and sees no playfulness there.

“I know the anniversaries are hard. They were for me before...I knew the truth.” He pauses. “But I saw ya liftin the little bath things and that and thought maybe she’s moving on, ya know? Knocking the dust off for someone, yeah? I didn’t feel bad takin’ my sweet time getting back here but now that I see you were in fact just in the dark drinkin’ like a fish instead of gettin’ fucked, my human side is admittedly almost sorry for it. Almost.”

“I’m fine.”

“A sure sign one is in fact not.” When she doesn’t answer he knows he’s found the source of her bad mood. But he’d never taken it personally. “How longs it been?”

“Since when do you give a shit?”

“Since you do.” He gives a quick answer back as she turns and faces him.

“Four years.” She finally answers after staring him down to figure out his motives. Her lack of sobriety makes her patience thin.

“Been a while, yeah?”

She rolls her eyes and sighs. “Feels longer since I’ve been stuck with you.”

“Ya know, words hurt.” He puts his hand to his bare chest, partially unbuttoned in the common and jarring Hawaiian print. She lets out a snort of laughter and he knows he’s breaking through.

“Nothing hurts you, Butcher.” She says it like a fact and he’s almost proud of it for a moment until he can see she’s jealous of it.

“'Ats not true, innit?”

“Apart from the usual bullets, knives and brass knuckles that is.”

“Although that’s very sweet of ya love, and I’ll be sure to remind you of the compliment once you’re sober so you can regret it, still not true. Just a man, yeah?” He offers with shrugged shoulders.

“Why are you…? What are you doing?” She narrows her eyes at him suspiciously.

“I’m tryin' to be fuckin' proper supportive, right ?” He says louder, his patience wearing down with her already.

“Supportive?” She groans with heavy sarcasm and a raised brow. Her defensiveness was transparent.

“I know what it’s like. I know it’s hard. And admittedly not much gets to ya. I see a lot of old me in you and I know when ya hidin’ shit and as much of a cunt as you can be, it's not a great feelin' to see ya like this.”

She feels a bit exposed suddenly. Kindness in this form wasn’t something she was accustomed to. And coming from someone so close to her now, that she (as much as she hated to admit it) cared about, made her hard shell crack. It was only for a moment but that’s all it took for Billy to see. She quickly deflects. “What are you gonna do? Give me a hug and tuck me in?” Her tone was harsh and he knew it well. Born from pain and a lack of healthy outlet for it, they were one and the same. “Don’t be fucking stupid Butch.” She shakes her head.

“That what ya want? A fuckin' cuddle?” His tone came out more patronizing than he meant but he wasn’t any good at this either. He was just trying to be a good friend and he wasn’t very practiced in it. He raises and it surprises her. “I can give ya a hug, love. If that’s what it takes.” He holds his arms out and his voice tells of the great sacrifice he’s making for her. "I can fuckin' cuddle like any other cunt on this planet-"

“I find that hard to believe.” She rolls her eyes.

“C’mere.”

“No, I don’t want a hug for Christ’s sake.” She puts her hands to his chest.

“Your drunken little brain blurted out what it really wanted first. Psychology 101 shit.” He states as she slaps away at his hands.

“I’m not that drunk. Besides you probably stink of stress sweat and cheap cologne.” She continues to protest but he was stronger, she was drunk and with Billy, it was easier to let him have his way and move on sometimes.

“Come now, love shut ya trap and give in.”

She lets out a sigh and tries to relax her shoulders. Her arms at her sides as she began to feel the warmth pass from his body to hers. With each breath, she grew warmer, more at ease. She didn’t care for it. Not being tense was something she felt uncomfortable with at this juncture.

They stand in silence, not something they were accustomed to. The steady stream of bickering usually followed them everywhere. He had been so adamant about her needing this that the act of wrapping his arms around another person with no intent on killing them was feeling very foreign in the silence. “How longs it been?” Is what comes of his wheels turning about his own lack of non-violent physical contact. Who was he really asking?

“I just told you like a minute ago,” she laments in frustration, her forehead landing against his chest.

“No, not that.” His voice wasn’t as forced as usual, she could feel it rumble in his chest before it hit her ears. “Since you did something like this? Been a long fuckin' time for me.”

“Don’t accidentally snap my neck out of habit please.” She mutters against him and he lets out a huff of a laugh.

“You joke but…”

“It’s been since…” she answers after a brief pause. “Since the funeral.”

“Those don’t count. Not sympathy hugs. Not that “so sorry for your loss” horse shit.”

She lets out a exhalation and she pushes back past that marker in her mind. “Since that morning.”

“Yeah.” Is all he says but she knows he means, me too.

The feelings hit her, the existence outside of her comfort zone and the alcohol weakening the dam in her mind. He feels it happen under his arms, the exhale, the physical act of her guard falling. She moans a sound of frustration, one he’s familiar with himself. “You had to make me think about it.” Her voice is calm and even.

“Can’t let it weaken you like it does.” It was more a suggestion than an order but she snorts into his shirt.

“That’s rich coming from you.”

“Don’t make me weak.” He asserts with a self-assured tone. “Just angry.”

“I prefer distractions to dealing with it. I’ve got enough rage.” She sounds sad and he moves his arm that serve as a means to trap her to her back and gives it a pat.

“Feels easier dunnit?” He nods slowly. “Anger’s easier to use than sadness.”

“That might be the smartest thing you’ve ever said.”

“I am smart. You just don’t listen, mate.”

“And you do? What about this hug? I said I didn’t want it.”

“And we’ve had a nice little moment ‘aven’t we?”

“Shut up, you’ll ruin it” She chuckles and moves her arms around him to his surprise. “You know I hate it when you’re right but...I think it has been too long. Other wise I wouldn’t be enjoying this. AND before you give me some smart ass reply, if you tell anyone I said that I’ll deny it.”

“I was just gonna agree.”

“You know it’s bad when something like this feels good.” She grins again and he’s relieved to see the sadness has passed. “Been too long for... a lot of things.” She raises her brows as she lifts her head. Her face only gave away frustration with its slight frown and unmet eyes.

“What’s at?”

“If I don’t get that rage out... I get sad.”

“Didn’t you just take out a man?”

“Yeah but... not like that. That’s…” She shrugs. “Feels like work almost ya know?” She lets her hands slowly move away and he does the same out of courtesy. She stays close but doesn’t touch him as she runs her hand through her hair and exhales noisily. “I mean FUN.”

“What’s that ?” He asks with a straight face and he sees a genuine laugh light up her face.

With a grin and a nod, she responds, her hand still fluffing her hair. “Seems like I forgot how to have it somewhere along the way. Or rather just not many... opportunities for it I guess.”

“What’s fun then? We got a clear schedule, weapons and anonymity. Surely that can do somethin' for ya.” He offers.

“Don’t need any of that for what I was thinking. Old vices to let the rage out is what my mind goes back to. But all that left with…” her nose wrinkles as she makes a gesture to show her hands were empty. “Him.” Her face falls back into frustration.

“What is it or are ya gonna keep talkin' round it?”

She purses her lips and meets his eyes. “I’m not talking around it.”

“Yeah ya are. Ya never vague bout anything.”

“You have a very slappable face, has anyone ever told you that?”

“They usually don’t. They just do it. Much like you should right now.”

She chuckles again and shakes her head. “Why are you… being your version of caring?”

“Why are you changin' the subject?”

“Because it’s weird and suspicious.”

“Because if your heads in the right place this works better, yeah? If I can get you to decompress, then it’s less of your bitchin' I gotta worry 'bout. Ya less likely to fuck up and generally it might be possible that you’d be a slightly lessened pain in the arse.”

“That… well, that actually makes sense.”

“I talk it all the time love ya just gotta shut up long enough to listen.”

“Charming.” She rolls her eyes and he holds his hands up in surrender.

“Just honest. Unlike you.”

She studied him for a moment. A drawn-out silence he uses to do the same as they push back and forth with their stare.

“Sex.” She finally answers with the same hard look on her face.

For only a second he looks confused before he realizes she’s finally given him what he’d been searching for. “A fuck ain’t nothin love, go ask anyone with a prick out there and you can get it.”

“Therein lies the problem. I don’t work like that. I can’t let anyone in to even have a normal conversation, I certainly can’t fuck someone I don’t know, don’t trust. No time for that shit anymore. So I just… went without it.”

“No wonder you act like such an uptight cunt.”

“What’s your excuse?” She pushes back.

“Could say the same.” His answer surprises her and he sees it as it moves across her face. “Wasn’t gonna with me wife gone, then after all that ended I just never got back out there now did I? Whose got the fuckin time?”

“You are making entirely too much sense tonight.” She gives him an actual smile for the information he’d given freely.

“What about those app things? They have those just for fuckin' now right?”

“And have my picture and info up to be tracked? No thank you. That’s just asking to be killed.”

“Probably right.”

“Mark down the day you agreed with me on something.”

“I’m being very agreeable. In fact, we have the same understanding of this particular issue, we do.”

“Ever since I met you we’ve shared a lot of the same problems.”

“And we’ve solved them all innit we? Together, yeah?”

“Yeah… we have.” Her voice drags from a quiet agreement into a lingering silent stare.

“What the fuck is that look?” He demands as he sees her look him up and down in judgment.

“I-“ She begins and then shuts her mouth and shakes her head.

“Well, ya can’t do that and not finish your sentence. Rude, that is.”

“As much as I hate to admit it, and wouldn’t to anyone else. We do work well together.”

“Fuckin'... and?”

“I don’t think I’m drunk enough to actually say it out loud. Only think it.” She replies with an amused look on her face. ”That in itself is dumb enough.”

“Now ya just teasin’.”

“I couldn’t help but apply us working well together to the current problem.”

His chin pushes back and he narrows his eyes at her. “What the fuck are you on about?”

“That there.” She points his way. “Shows me you know exactly what I’m on about.” She sass’s back. “And that reaction is why I didn’t share.”

“What reaction? I’m being perfectly normal.”

“Normal doesn’t exist for you and I.” She purses her lips. “And that whole, suspicious look you get with your beady little eyes.”

“Not the way I’d be talkin' to someone I wanted to fuck.” He gives a wry smile.

“I didn’t say I wanted to.” she clarifies. “I only said I couldn’t help but see a temporary solution available to us for a mutual problem.” She relaxes her body language and steps further away. “Besides, probably wouldn’t be worth my time anyway.”

“Now wait just a fuckin minute.” She almost laughs out loud at how easy it was to pull the reaction from him. “I could shag the skin right off ya bones if I wanted to. Be the best you’d ever had, yeah?” He says defensively with a pointed finger her way.

Half turned towards him she smirks. “Butcher, baby… those are some big words to live up to.”

“And when have you known me to oversell?”

“Only constantly.” the same lazy smirk remains as she holds the upper hand between them again.

“Fuck off.” He mutters quickly and swats the statement away with his hand. “You really suggestion this or are ya havin' a wank?”

“I wasn’t sure at first but now you’ve gone and promised to be the best fuck I’ve ever had and I’d be lying if I said your claims weren’t intriguing.” she explains with a sarcastic lilt to hide the truth behind it.

“I know what I’m good at.” He offers up with a charming delivery of a casual shrug.

“But it’s been so long…”

“Not something ya forget how to do, love.”

“That’s… yeah, I suppose you’re right.” They measure each other up wordlessly, taking in the view of the other through a new lens. “Would you want to?” Her face gives away her hesitation, and he’s honestly a bit sad for her that she’d think he would find her unattractive enough to not be interested.

“I had purposely tried to not think about such things, yeah? But I mean… ya ain’t bad a ‘tall love.” He pauses to watch a slow nod of acceptance from her. “I’d ask if you would but clearly…” he raises his brows and openly gestures with his hands and she rolls her eyes. “Your idea now. Don’t act like that now that it’s on the table.”

“I’d prefer the bed.” She offers a more friendly smile.

“Cheeky bugger.” He chuckles. “More of an old school approach for you eh?”

“I wouldn’t say that.” She shakes her head. “Another reason I can't do it with just any rando off the street.”

“What are you trying to get me into? I don’t wanna end up hogtied in a dress with something up me arse.”

She grins at his response in a light-hearted way. “None of that. Well... you wouldn’t be the one getting tied up anyway.”

“Ah.” He nods I’m understanding. “That's why you need the trust innit?”

“Have to know I won’t be killed for starters, and two I need because there’s always a line, need a safe word and someone that’ll listen.”

“How we talkin' here love?”

“Like you haven’t wanted to slap me around for years now” She jokes.

“Not in particular no.”

His answer surprises her and she studies him for a moment. “It’s been so long are you sure you want it to be with me?”

“If not you… who? Like you so eloquently said... trust 'n that.”

“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.” She rubs her face.

“Inevitable yeah? Two good lookin' people, so much time alone, so much stress with work. Plenty of pornos made about this very situation.” He sees her crack a smile. “Besides after when ya want it again I can use it as a bartering chip.”

“If there is a next time.” She corrects. “Not exactly selling me on this ya know.”

“What ya want? Roses? Box 'a sweets? Never been one for poetry, love.”

“It’s hard to remember how to… begin.”

“So you really wanna do this? Have ya a dirty little secret?” He moves closer and the playfulness is clear on his face. She wasn’t sure if it was genuine enthusiasm or there for her sake.

“Ugh. Don’t make me say it.” She grunts.

“I am a modern man and I ain’t one for sending out rapey vibes so I’m afraid ya gotta love.”

She takes a deep breath and sits down her glass. “Alright. Okay. Yes. I consent.” She states with open arms that plop down at her sides.

“Wunnit so hard, yeah?”

“Hopefully not as hard as you’ll be.”

He lets out a deep laugh. “Now there’s a good girl.”

The words hit her just right, she tries to fight that learned response of pushing him away when he got too close. He tests the waters, looking her over with a clear intent, getting his head in the right space as she did the same. She didn’t meet his face but looked him over in his half unbuttoned shirt and jeans. She’d seen him practically naked, patched him up and knew he was a strong lean machine underneath the goofy tourist shirt. The same for him could be said about her, years of post-attack care and close living quarters on the road left little to the imagination.

He sees her gulp, but doesn’t bear it. Her nerves were given away by the bob of the lump in her throat.

“It seems weird to start by kissing you but... that seems to make the most sense.”

“Ya tense as a virgin, love.” He reaches out and rubs her exposed arms to initiate a connection and make her more comfortable.

“It’ll pass.” She tells convincingly.

“What’ll it take to make ya melt for me?”

She feels his gravely voice close and shuts her eyes with a deep breath. Okay, she could do this. “Make it worth my time Butcher.” She finally meets his eyes, hers darker now and peering up at him. “I don’t want to have to think. I just wanna feel. I know I can be dominant in a fight but I don’t wanna be with sex. I’ll say...shoelace if you’re too rough. But don’t be afraid to... use your strength.”

“Noted, love.” He gives a nod and before she can flutter lashes in response to her quickening heartbeat as he gets his hand around her throat. She feels that long missed warmth flood her body. There was no fight response, no fear for the squeeze on her delicate throat, only a soft exhale as she closed her eyes that made him feel the same sort of feeling for her in his stomach. “From the way you just turned into a puddle for me I’ll take it I’m on the right track.”

“Mmm Hmm.” She nods. “Give it to me rough and dirty, Butch. Use all that anger I’ve seen first hand on me. You know I can take it.”

He moves fast and pushes her against a wall with a generic picture frame thumping force. “Ya gonna, pet.”

She hums and swallows, a little moan escaping her as he looms over her and she feels small in his shadow. He was a powerful man and she needed to have hers taken away for the night.

He lingers over her skin in warm lines of breath that escape his broad nose. “You know… you are a lovely little bird.” His fingertips trace across her skin in light, teasing lines up her arms and across her chest. Keeping his hand at her throat as a reminder to be still and let him take the lead, he loses his grip as he becomes occupied by watching her body react to him. He gives a flick to her nipples and wets his lips. “Hard already?” A rhetorical question comes out with a patronizing tone that for the first time she didn’t mind.

She watches his face as his eyes focus on the way her tits bounce with every pinch of her nipples he pulls and releases through her shirt. She sees the focus and the want reflected in them and welcomes the warm feeling being wanted gave her. “Let me get a look at these love.” He speaks softly, calloused fingers pulling her top down, the weight of her chest holding the neckline in place as he traced the rise and fall, the blooming of goosebumps on her skin that spread as he freed her to the air. There weren’t so many words as he got to take her in for purely pleasure for the first time. A deep hum from his throat she felt rumble down her torso as he played and pinched passed through them both. She feels her muscles tense as the touch sends pleasure straight down to her center with each twist. As if he were running an inner monologue he didn’t want to share, he grunts out “Rough, eh?” And proceeds to send the first jolts of pain and pleasure through her with a hard and firm twist. He sees her knees wobble as she lets out the first moan for him. It was almost as if he’d willed himself to forget about the female form and all the arousal that came from touching all the softness the right way. He’d not touched a woman without intent to harm in so long. But that was the last thing he wanted to do to her.

For as much as they fought and bickered, he did enjoy her company. Which is more than he could say for most anyone else. She was a driven and demanding woman with work, and that butted heads with his hard and fast style more often than not. But when the jobs were over and they had those precious few hours of freedom before they traveled back to headquarters, she was downright lovely when the conditions were right. Because of the balance they had, the trust and honesty, he’d shut off any piece of his lizard brain that would want to fuck her, lest he not be razor-sharp or ruin what they had by acting like a boy. But now he had her whimpering as he manipulated her dark rosy nipples, watching her thighs rub together and feeling a rush he hadn’t in years.

Taking him from his inner reflection, the quick sharp slaps to the sensitive peaks he gave her had her biting her lips. She finally makes a demand. “Suck on my tits Billy.” A strung-out voice he’d never heard before escapes and it’s like the femininity of it grabbed him by the balls as he’s commanded to obey and takes the weight of her into his mouth with a content groan. The use of his name and not her given nickname of Butch softens him, it was rare he heard his name said so softly. “Yeah, like that.” She heavily sighs, head knocking back against the wall. She could feel the heat spreading from every erogenous zone of her body, relaxing her muscles except those between her thighs that had started throbbing to the rising rate of her heartbeat.

He tried to remember the last time a woman praised him in such a way and going all the way to his marriage, he could not. He knew her to run hot in temper and her skin reflected the same. The fullness of her chest rising and falling as he gave in to shut his eyes and latch onto the bud that gave away how much she needed what he was giving her. Listening to her breathy sighs and feeling the thud of her heart against her sternum, he forgets himself for a moment. Releasing her neck and placing two calloused hands on her ribs to hold her close as his mouth nursed at her skin. With licks and pants she watches him hold her chest together and indulge fully. Licking her lips, she feels heat in her chest grow, the feeling of being so clearly wanted. Lips that drag across her skin as the kisses rose higher and higher to find her neck, her hands leaving her side to touch his shoulders lightly as if she’d find he wasn’t really there and this was all a sex-deprived fantasy she’d snap out of at any moment.

She moans as she feels his teeth pressing into the tight muscles of her neck.

“Like that, love?” His tone a clear tease and call back to her response earlier.

“Mmmph, Billy…” She exhales as his mouth lingers by her ear to send a spread of goosebumps down her skin from the tickle of breath on her rarely touched skin. She rolls her head towards him, a nuzzle of cheek to cheek, her hand finding its way to his hair, finding it softer than she thought it would be between her fingers.

“Sayin me name and I’m not even inside ya yet.” He teases with a breathy laugh she feels roll down her spine. It was distinct and masculine, the voice of someone she trusted and it made the last of her resolve melt away. “Bet you’re soaked already innit ya?” He accuses her, a scold she closes her eyes at hearing the tone of. Keeping her close with a strong hand to her back, the other trails between her breasts and down to the thin cover of fabric over her plush mound.

He noted the peaks and valleys on her body, a solid core with the swell of a soft belly before reaching a cotton covered nest of dark hair. His teasing proves valid as his fingertips are met with the warm patch of wetness as they travel lower between her legs. “Fuckin 'ell you are needin' it aren’t ya?” He remarks almost to himself as he sees the slickness on his fingers.

“Yeah, that’s kinda why I asked you Butch.” She sass's back as he looks up to find her watching his face.

“Don’t ruin it with that smart mouth now eh?” He scolds with a tilt of his head as he pushes his fingers covered in her into her mouth.

He’s met with a muffled “Mmph.” Of surprise before acceptance of the same sound as two of his fingers press against her tongue.

“I’d love to do this when you get to actin' like a mouthy cunt on me.” A darker tone to his words now, falling back into a role, indulging his rougher side to let some of the evil out, just as she was in her way. “Just shove something in ya mouth and shake you about yeah?” He holds her jaw and gives it a good shake with a tight grip. Her eyes flutter and roll, letting the orders and insults break her down and take away the tension she held constantly in her muscles. “Or should I just…?” He begins with his hand moving to her throat once more and pressing her into the wall with a squeeze. He feels her swallow against his palm, a slight effort behind her inhale.

He doesn’t meet her eyes, finding it easier to do what she asked that way. If he looked into them he would see her needful and trusting and that wasn’t something he was fully prepared for and he knew it. No one needed Billy Butcher. Most didn’t even want him and one of the few humans to ever connect with him and even be fond of him in a genuine way looking at him like that wasn’t something he could face. He felt a bit of a coward for it, but tonight wasn’t the night to deal with such things. Tonight was about losing tension, not adding more to their relationship.

He moves quickly to place a firm slap to her wet center, a snap of skin and wet echoing across the room.

“Fuck.” She almost whines in a heavy exhale. A slumping against his other hand on her neck that let him know he could still push.

“She does like it a little rough, eh?” Chuckles at her slack face, lips pressing against each other. In quick succession, he lands his hand harshly to her nipples, then down to her center, a slap to her hips and thighs that leave her pink in his wake. He stops after the pattern elicits a noise of discomfort from her, but no sign of her safe word was on her lips.

“S’good.” She mumbles and nods, eyes that looked tired glancing his way for a moment to let him know he was still well within the rules. He was slowly getting tougher and the sting of skin sent the thrills through her she’d long missed. But she was giving him a rush of his own he hadn’t realized he’d missed so badly.

With a nod of acknowledgement, he moves on, ready to push this forward as the ache of his own cock pushing against his pants was something that needed attending to. He steps back, a posture that said more than his words could about their roles for tonight.

He leaves her stood slouched against the wall, eyes hooded and following his hands as they moved to the buttons on his shirt.

“Take it off.” Is his command, but she knew what he meant. She liked the dark stare, the way his lean body didn’t waver as he toed off his half tied boots. His hand grazes over the bulge in his black jeans before his hands move to unbuckle the heavy hardware of his belt while she strips her top over her head and throws her panties onto her bed unceremoniously.

With a stalking and wolfish demeanor, he hovered over her prickled skin, everything tightened and hard to the cool air as he stands in an undone shirt and pants. “Look at you, love.” Raspy praise comes from barely moving lips as his hands brush her hair behind her shoulders. She almost flinches as the movements with an unknown destination come near her face. They were both in the right headspace now. “Why would I go to that little tart at the club when I could come back and have some of ‘is yeah?”

He means it, she’s surprised to find. His voice was frank and his hands pinched and picked at her nipples and curves. She doesn’t reply, eyes averted as his rake over her naked body.

“Gonna give this a proper seeing to, eh?” He groans as he stretches his neck, his palms back on her bare skin, warming her in more places than they touched. He pulled her to his bare chest roughly, hands on her ass and squeezing tight before a few solid spanks were given much to her delight. “You want fucked hard, pet? Or is the handlin' ya like in such a way?”

The affectionate name doesn’t dampen the mood between them. “Both.” She whispers out, hands to his chest and feeling the curl of chest hair under her fingers. It reminds her of her husband for just a moment, laying next to him and playing with it before she fell asleep. Billy wasn’t exactly a substitute for him but, perhaps he would prove a worthy distraction in the least. A warm body to ease the loneliness, an ear to listen. She didn’t need much.

“Ask and you shall receive.” a statement that answers more than he knew was announced loudly as he gives her one last set of slaps  before grabbing her arms and spinning her around to face the bed. With one hand holding her wrists to the bend of her back, the other runs a single finger down her spine to make her shudder before giving a hard spank to her bare ass. Her knees buckled slightly, a sharp gasp then a mewl asked him for more.

He bent her over, hands now on the bed per his orders in the form of grunts and slaps. He goes in rounds, breaking her down slowly with slaps to her ass, thighs and pussy lips. Each time getting more red and swollen than the last. He rubs the spots he hits, a quick soothe after the harshness. He feeds off her sounds, and all moans and gasps of pleasure to match with his deep and dominating growls and patronizing take as she flinches.

He knows she’s had enough when he sees the drip of wetness from her lips between her legs. He swipes it before it’s gone with his fingers in the heat of her to pinch her clit and rub to ready her as she buckled towards the bed with a submissive moan. “Soaked little cunny, innit?” He coos her way before pushing two fingers inside her.

The first push of pure pleasure was over her, eyes rolling back and tongue out over her bottom lip as she gave over to it. His movements were confident, always certain and steady against her. She’d needed that control taken and he was proving to be worthy of the task. With curling and pounding fingers he works her until she’s close, drenched in her and feeling her tighten he leaves her exposed and bent over while he strokes himself to the sight of her. A soft and pink fluffy cunt between two strong thighs and an arse that he was champing at the bit to watch bounce against him. One he’d smacked before but only to piss her off, and never for the purpose of what he had planned for her.

A firm grip on himself he pumped, planning for what he was going to give her, which was years worth of pent up aggression. He was challenged to hurt her, and even if that wasn’t in his nature towards women and sex he was not one to back down from a challenge. He was set in his mind to leave her with no choice but to admit he’d fucked her good and proper. And deny that she wanted to do it again, a sure sign she did as she wouldn’t be thinking about it already.

Tapping himself on her lower back, grabbing her hips and holding her where he wanted her, knees knocked up on the bed, he groans and watches  her move herself towards him, seeking him out.

“Hungry little cunt, eh?”

“Billy just... fuck me... please.” She whines, a needful grunt as she rubbed her slit against him.

“That’s a good girl.” He softly praises as he angles himself and notches inside her, an immediate release of wordless noise from them both. “Fuckin' 'ell.” He mutters before feeling the resistance around him as he buried himself inside her. His hands held fast to her hips as he settled inside her, savoring it for a moment.

A breathy. “Yes.” Escapes her as her head drops down to the bed.

He keeps up with her neediness for it as he begins a solid rhythm, pacing himself to adjust to her tightness that only seemed to squeeze him harder with every meeting of their hips. She pushed back as he slapped her ass. Pink welts that bounced on his strong hips, both picking up on the pace between them easily, as they had always done in fighting, it seemed to translate well with fucking.  

There were no words as she gripped the sheets, pushed back with all she had, that satisfying slap of balls to her clit, the hollow smack of skin to skin as they worked to a feverish pace. She could feel more growing in her, him filling her to satisfy that stretch she needed from him. With a snarl, beads of sweat falling down his forehead he pushes forward, grabbing a handful of her hair to pound her harder, give her what they both needed now. She cries out, every breath forces out from the hips as her back arches beautiful back for him.

“Fuck yes.” She cries in bursts that match his pace. Her head bobbed and her tits bounced and knocked together adding to the slaps and claps that filled the otherwise quiet room.

A hard slap to her ass again makes a deeper and more sultry sound arise from her. Billy knew it, a grown woman now in her final throws, enjoying herself and letting go. He doesn’t let the moment pass, giving her all he’s got left in power. He yanks her arms back and leaves her helpless as he pulls them back and lets her chest bow out and head hang back  as he rides her.

A happy squeal escapes, hums and laughs that were different than any he’d heard from her. “That’s fucking right Billy, give it to me. Harder.” A playful call demands of him.

He grabs her by the throat, one hand to her chest, pulling her against him as his nails sink into the meat of her. She moans and mewls, closed eyes and snarling smile as he tightens his grip around her neck, hips still pounding away and gaining speed to finish the job. Another spank, another slap, and then to her dripping cunt he continues. At first he continues the pain, then a rapid back and forth over her swollen clit that makes her hips buck and her lips plead for more.

A choked out “Don’t stop.” Leaves her as he feels her stomach tensing and her breathing deepen. He’s almost tempted to, to be cruel one last time but the feel of her against him, the face full of vanilla-scented hair and his mouth at her ear, he chooses the much more merciful route as he knew he didn’t want to part from her.

“Come on this cock you fuckin slag.” He growls and she smiles in response. He gives a bite to her ear and sucks at her neck as little chants of yes make it to his ears. “I fuckin' feel ya love, be a good girl for me and cum and I’m gonna fill you up. Fuck you’re gonna be feelin' me inside you for days.”

Another deep and content moan gets past his white-knuckled hand on her throat as she holds fast to his arm, then reaches back to grab a handful of hair. A submissive whimper, both to him and to the needs of her body, riding that cusp and waiting to fall, they meet eyes. Something they’d been avoiding but now they were locked, both matched in their faces in ecstasy. She feels it, that pull for more, she needed something to finish.

He sees her lips quiver, her eyes big and batting and he answers her wordless plea and kisses her. It’s not a first kiss either had had before. It was teeth and tongue and gripping lips that would suddenly part to gasp. It was rough and desperate just as their lives were.

They both feel it, it was a final straw, a touch of tenderness and intimacy masked in angry brows and crude words in the form of a kiss that pushed them over. Being the gentleman he was, or could be, he makes sure she finished first. Pounding her through the waves she rode, the hips stuttering, the cum running down his balls and her thighs from a thorough beating of her insides. He knocks her to the bed to breathe, giving that lovely little arse of hers a final whipping and clenching his hands down to the bones of her hips he follows her to the bed, fucking into her flat on her stomach.

The new angle left her squirming, hitting deep inside her as she let her whole body feel how good it felt to have his weight on her. She sees his hands fist the sheets next to her head. Masculine grunts as he empties out and they’re left in the aftermath.

With a less harsh smack on her ass, more of a well done than a dominating feel to it he collapses next to her. The silence falls in the room as their breathing slows. This was the part he had been avoiding. The consequences of their actions. Doing something bad was never lackluster, it was the moments after when you were faced with what you’d done that weren’t fun to deal with.

But as she always did, she takes a situation and makes the best of it. Finally moving with a groan, she slowly moves to back off the bed and stretches, looking at the damage done to her backside. He hears a laugh and then a tensionless sigh. “You know I hate to admit when you’re right.” She grins as she rolls to his side to face her. “But that was a… very job well done, mate.” She laughs and turns to walk with loose hips to the bathroom.

“Maybe you’ll listen to me more then, eh?” He smiles and watches her disappear behind the cheap wooden door.

“Wouldn’t count on it.” He hears as he gives a charming smile in her direction she doesn’t see. He pulls the blankets back, a quick strip of the clothes left around his ankles and a swipe over his junk to ease the sticky feeling growing the AC air of the room.

He settles in, the light switching off and a still naked woman approaching him. He was enjoying the confidence and ease she held herself with now. Hands running through her hair as she stood and looked between the two beds. “So…” She says with a nod.

“Yeah?”

“Do we share a bed now?” She asks with a tilt of her head.

“Been a night of a lot of firsts. Don’t have to stop there. I still haven’t proved myself to be a cuddler.”

“True.” She smiles and moves to slide into bed with him.

“If ya think you can keep your hands off me you can sleep in here. But if ya gonna be waking me up and demanding my cock, ya know I need my beauty rest, love.”

“Shut up Butch.” She laughs as presses her back against him. “You wish.” She shakes her head and settles. “No amount of sleep's gonna help you.”

“Good to see not even good cock can keep ya from bein' a cunt.”

“It’s just you. You’re lucky that way.” She grins as she accepts the arm around her waist and the warmth of his breath in her hair.

“Yeah… ‘Spose I am a lucky bastard that way.” He groans after a good stretch. Now all that was left was to prove his cuddling capabilities, and with her hand around his wrist, as it settles up to her breasts, wiggling hips resting directly against his, they were both well on their way to finding out the outcome of the second challenge of the night.

@jaegeeeeer​ @negansdirtygirl22​

[gingyboo]

Mirror Mirror

A/N: Again many thanks to @booglebug

Description- Soulmates existed. People knew that much. Soulmates were rare, a handful in each generation, an unexplainable phenomenon that formed a bond closer than blood and more sacred than marriage.

Bucky finds his soulmate when he needs her most. Little does he know how much she needs him too.

(Soulmate au that slots pretty much in to the MCU but with soulmates. Set after TFATWS.)

Pairing- Bucky Barnes x OFC

Warnings- Mentions of violence and guns, but its mostly fluff, drama and angst.

This is a multi chaptered fic.

Please like, comment, reblog!

prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Chapter 9 Chapter 10

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

Chapter 11

Nancy was standing in the training room, more music playing in her ears, Ayo stood before her, spear in hand. Shuri, as usual, was standing in the corner with her tablet.

“This seems a dangerous test.” Ayo mused, twirling her spear. Nancy bit her lip. Her training had been going well. Over the past two days she found herself running faster and further, she could now successfully land moving targets and lift well above her own body weight. She still needed the music to calm herself, let her instincts take over but Shuri had decided it was time to put her training into practice. Who better to help than one of the Dora? Nancy had taken extensive self-defence classes as a child and teenager, her and Kit had attended judo classes, and both reached black belt. Their mother had seen it as a necessary precaution. Nancy had enjoyed it significantly more than ballet classes. Standing in front of Ayo 8 years since her last class she felt frightfully unprepared.

“She’s got this.” Shuri insisted.

Ayo circled the girl slowly, like a lioness stalking her prey. Nancy calmed her breathing. Stretching out her neck and clenching and unclenching her fists. The spear whistling through the air. Nancy’s arm shot out blocking its path, but Ayo stopped it’s attack short anyway.

“Okay, so you are fast.” Ayo smiled. She struck the spear out again, Nancy blocked again. This continued Nancy blocking strikes from all angles whilst Ayo spiralled around her. The speed of her assaults increased until Nancy grabbed out snatched the spear. Ayo didn’t let go and when Nancy kicked her leg out Ayo caught it in the air. One leg in the air and one hand on the spear’s shaft. She drops the leg spinning on the other and wrenching the spear from Ayo’s grasp. She landed crouched on the ground gasping for breath.

“Never again wildcat,” Ayo smiled taking back the spear.

“Not a wildcat,” Shuri said, approaching Nancy with her hand held out, helping her up. “Red Wolf.” Nancy laughed under her breath as she and Shuri grinned.

“So, I guess your theory was right?” Nancy said removing the headphones.

“Well, you didn’t just learn that in two days. It’s built within you.”

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

The revelation of Duncan Ellis had led to more questions than he answered, they now played a waiting game for Sam and Bucky to return with him. Nancy was fresh out of the shower after training wrapped in a towel when her phone went off.

‘Mirror?’

‘Yes.’ She sent back straight away, she pulled on sundress and sat in front of the bedroom mirror. A few moments later she could see Bucky staring back at her. The interior of the jet displayed behind him.

“Hey, we are a couple of hours out.” Nancy smiled at his news,

“Okay, has he said anything yet?”

“Not yet, but he will,”

“Good, i think there might be more to this then we first thought.” Between what Sam and Bucky had discovered in Amsterdam and Shuri and Nancy’s own research, Nancy’s hopes had steadily risen, could Kit be out there? And if he was another question rose in the back of her mind, why hadn’t he made contact?

“Bucky?” She said hesitantly, “there’s something I need to show you when you get back.” Nancy hadn’t told Bucky about the princess’s and her experiments. She hadn’t explained her newly discovered reflexes or ability to hit superhuman speeds if in the right mindset. Which mean she hadn’t told him how much easier dipping into that place was becoming, or how at home she felt there.

“You okay doll?” He said frowning with concern.

“I will be when you get here.”

She didn’t have to wait long, a couple of hours was nothing compared to the days they’d been apart, but still it felt like an age to Nancy who stared into the mirror long after Bucky had left its surface. She pinned her hair back off her face but let it fall loose in a waterfall down her back, she dug out her great grandmothers necklace, remembering Bucky’s appreciation for it, and fastened it round her neck. She looked down at the sundress she’d slipped into for modesty and frowned. She wanted to look strong when facing Duncan Everett, fierce and intimidating, the dress made her look like she was off to the beach. She reached into the wardrobe flicking through the clothing she’d had to purchase in Wakanda after realising she’d be staying more than 3 days. She pulled out the black and red dress Katima had insisted she get. It was smart and official looking with a V-neck and asymmetric hem. It hugged her hips and thighs though the material had some stretch to it. Slipping into it and a pair of black heels Nancy once again returned to the mirror. That was much better. She applied a thick coat of mascara and a deep red lipstick before leaving to find Shuri.

“Woah, that’s a look.” Shuri called out to Nancy as she crossed the threshold to the lab. Navy gave a small lack lustre twirl.

“Buck has his arm, Sam has his wings and shield, I’ve got this.” She gestured to the outfit.

“Well, I love it.” She grinned “and I think a certain sergeant will too.” She laughed wiggling her eyebrows.

It was dark by the time the call came through that the jet had crossed the border. Nancy made her way down to the landing pad. She set her face in stone ready to face Duncan. Bucky left the jet first, marching over to her and engulfing her in his arms. He kissed her briefly but firmly.

“I missed you.”

“So, you said.” Nancy smiled back, stroking the stubble on his chin. He kept an arm round her shoulders whilst turning back towards the jet. Sam was leading the dark-haired man down the ramp and towards the palace, his hands held tightly behind his back, as he passed the couple he winked at Nancy, smirking as he did. Bucky’s grip tightened on her shoulder.

“Let’s go in,” he whispered in her ear. They followed the prisoner into the palace where he was sealed in a cell. Bucky waited until he knew he was locked away before making for the door with Nancy still by his side.

The stepped into a side room, Shuri was sat at a table, Sam by her side. They took seat opposite.

“How should we play this?” Sam asked the room, “he said nothing the whole way here.”

“British intelligence has given us clearance to hold him, turns out they thought he was dead as well. We have got to extradite him back to face questioning there when we are done with him, I’d say we have a week.” Shuri explained.

“I say we let him stew, get back to him in the morning.” Bucky stretched out. “He’s not going anywhere tonight.”

“I have questions, I want the answers.” Nancy argued.

“I know you do, and we will get them, but tomorrow, I want to know what you two have been up to.” Bucky said gesturing between the two women. They shared a look and a knowing smile.

“We were testing the subconscious link we discussed.” Nancy started.

“And she’s being showing great progress.” Shuri finished. Bucky simply looked confused.

“Come to my training tomorrow and you’ll see.” Nancy said slyly.

“Ooo that’s an idea, I don’t think Ayo will want to volunteer again.” Shuri winked at Nancy.

Bucky looked at Sam who just shrugged in return. It seemed things were decided and, be it reluctantly, Nancy let Bucky pull her from the room. They made their way across the square but at the door to the embassy building Bucky kissed her quickly on the cheek.

“I’ll be right back with you, just forgot something,” He darted back towards the palace. Nancy made her way up to the apartment, she slipped off the heels leaving them by the door and padded across the carpet. She switched on the stereo and poured herself a glass of wine. She swayed softly to the music. Tomorrow she would get her answers and then she’d know, either way, what had happened to Kit. She wanted to tell her dad what they were investigating but it seemed cruel to get his hopes up for nothing, and then there was their mother. She had told her where she was and to stay safe just in case they came for her as well. As always her mother had worried, told her to come stay with her because she’d decided that was what was best for her. Nancy politely declined. The thought of staying with her controlling overprotective mother was bad enough without worrying about her meeting Bucky. Larissa Cartwright had worshipped the ground her son walked on, when he’d died Larissa had retreated into herself. Her marriage collapsing and alienating her daughter. Telling her she thought Kit might not have died would likely cause more harm than good. Whilst thinking this over she heard the door click open and then Bucky’s arms were round her, his lips at her ear.

“I like this.” he whispered playing with the strap of her dress. Nancy smiled turning round so they could sway together to the music.

“Thank you, its my battle armour,” she said smiling. Bucky nodded in agreement. He stroked a thumb across her lower lip,

“And this?” he asked regarding the lipstick there.

“My war paint.” she laughed. He laughed with her, the right side of his mouth twisting up. He dipped her gently and as she leaned back the ruby pendent glinted in the low lights. He smiled seeing it nestled beneath her collar bone. As she rose back up he caught her lips in a fierce kiss, swooping her up in his arms, bridal style.

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

Nancy awoke to find Bucky’s side of the bed empty. Alarm raced through her instantly. She crept out of the bedroom, her robe wrapped around her tightly. She found him lying awake on the sofa, a blanket thrown over him. she slipped around the arm of the sofa wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

“What’s this in aid of?” she asked as he sat up turning around.

“Never again, I won’t risk hurting you again.” he said staring at her with wide eyes.

“Buck…” she started.

“No, I don’t care if I never sleep again, I won’t put you in danger.” he held both his hands up.

“We figured out what happened. Even if I do wake him again, I can call him off.” she argued, hands twisting in the t-shirt he was wearing.

“That’s only a theory, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Well, I’m not going back to sleep until you join me.” She stood up, arms cross staring him down.

“You know you’re as stubborn- “

“As I am beautiful, I know, now come with me I’m tired and I’ve missed you.” She held out her hand with one eyebrow raised. He took it and let her pull him to his feet and back to the bedroom. Tucked up again, his arms wrapped around her, Bucky slipped reluctantly into sleep alongside her.

[irene-sadler]

Sir Reynard and the Red Knight

(aka 'The Tournament')

special notes:

the vibe i chose for this imaginary fair/holiday is a mashup of pieces from medieval christmas and new year's eve celebrations. ofc as I mentioned before most of those were Christianity-based, but some of them had a distintly pre-Christian Anglo-Saxon pagan flavor. now my source material here is from 1827, but the author makes sure to let us know which traditions (he thinks) are older than Christianity. the book (books actually, there's 3 of them total) itself is also kind of a fun read, it's sort of a combo of an almanac/calendar/reference guide/gossip column.

a n y w a y, so, specifically i want to mention (b/c i stole them for this story and i don't want to do that without letting ppl know these are or were real traditions that real people observed) serving a boars' head on christmas day (Essex, England, observed "from time immemorial"), the wassail bowl/toast (a new year custom very definitely from before Christianity and apparently present in various parts of Europe altho I don't have the specific expertise to explain why), and an interesting/weird/gruesome Christmas parade (Kent) which the book describes: "A party of young people procure the head of a dead horse, which is affixed to a pole about four feet in length, a string is tied to the lower jaw, a horse cloth is then attached to the whole, under which one of the party gets, and by frequently pulling the string keeps up a loud snapping noise." This is called a Hodening and whether or not ppl still do it I don't know but, uh, i hope so b/c awesome.

also theres only 1 chapter left if u stuck with it this whole time or, idk, it's 2024 and u read the whole thing at once thanks for bothering love u

----

9.

     “Yes, hello,” Gascon said, pretending not to notice Meve’s displeasure. “Good afternoon, ladies,” he added, as the Baroness and Giselle turned to look curiously down at where he stood in the shadows. The Baroness frowned and pursed her lips judiciously; Giselle considered him and glanced uncertainly at the older women.

    “Anyway,” he continued, an edge of urgency buried in his easy tone, “Do you have a minute to spare?”

    “No,” the Queen said stiffly, turning back toward the empty lists. “I’m busy; whatever it is will have to wait until later.”

    “Oh,” he replied, growing very faintly annoyed, “Because it’s about that thing you wanted last night; just thought you’d be interested t’ know I’ve done it.”

    She hesitated, ignoring the Baroness’s raised eyebrow and Giselle’s uncomfortable confusion, struggled momentarily between curiosity and base pettiness, and finally said, “Yes, fine; I have a few minutes, I suppose.”

    “Fifteen minutes,” the Baroness said, pointedly.

    “No time to waste, then,” said Gascon; he winked at Giselle, who took her cue from the Baroness and frowned disapprovingly back at him, and they hurried off.

    “So, what is it, then?” Meve asked bluntly, as they turned into the town’s streets at a rapid stroll. “I assume you’ve caught the saboteur, else you wouldn’t have bothered me.”

    “Well, I caught Gaheris; he may be the saboteur, or may not,” Gascon said, disregarding her tone. “Gaspar thinks he is, though, and he’s th’ only one who saw th’ intruder close up last night, so odds are good he’s your man.”

    “Really?” She abandoned her moodiness in favor of mild surprise, and then asked, “When did this happen?”

    “Oh, only about an hour ago. Less, even. Seemed like there was no real need for a public scene, so I just had him snatched off the street and, you know - stashed somewhere convenient,” Gascon explained, leading the way down an alley and into a butcher. The owner nodded and smiled to him as he passed through the door and headed toward the back, spotted the Queen, and instantly looked away at nothing in particular. Pug and Gaspar waited in the yard behind the shop, standing guard over a man with a bag on his head and a bandage around his left ankle. Gascon nodded at Pug and she yanked the bag away; Gaheris squinted in the light and surveyed his surroundings - two large, brightly interested pigs in a pen, his sinister pair of captors, and, finally, Meve and Gascon. He sighed.

    “Got ‘im in one piece, as you wanted,” Pug announced in her gruff voice; a dubious claim, as Gaheris had a black eye and a split lip, but Gascon nodded approvingly and jerked his thumb over his shoulder, toward the shop.

    “Wait inside for a bit,” he said; Pug and Gaspar departed, leaving their captive to his deserved fate.

    “Now, sir,” Meve said briskly to Gaheris; if she had any doubts about his culpability, she kept them firmly to herself. “Let’s not waste time with falsehoods or denials.”        

    “No,” he said, resignedly, “Doesn’t seem to be much point in trying.”

    “Quite. So, explain what it is you’ve been up to, then.”

    “Start with last night,” Gascon added, as the squire took a few too many seconds to think it over. “Hurry up.”

    “Ah, well. I was trying to get hold of a piece of equipment I knew was among Sir Odo’s things in the barn,” he said. “The girth from a saddle.”

    “Continue,” the Queen said, as he paused, clearly thinking the question answered.

    “Well, obviously I didn’t get it, since that - that thug sliced my ankle t’ the bone when I tried. Seems the girth held up, though, regardless, through today; probably because Sir Odo don’t take many hits, luckily for him.”

    “No, it’s because I found it last night and changed it out for a new one,” Gascon said, angrily. “You’re the one who cut it, are you?”

    Gaheris nodded.

    “I knew it,” the Duke muttered; Meve waved his self-congratulatory comment away, scowling.

    “When did you do it?”

    “Oh, a month ago, or more,” he said. “Just before the duel against Sir Holt.”

    “Why?”

    He blinked at the question and said, as if it was obvious, “Because Sir Holt told me to, in hopes he’d win.”

    “You did a bad job, then,” Gascon snapped; Gaheris looked mildly offended.

    “No,” he said. “No, I didn’t. The girth held, did it not? Sir Odo won - or, well he could have, if he’d wanted to.”

    He looked at his interrogators’ baffled stares, and then explained, patiently, “Look - I cut through the leather, left just enough to hold a strain for a good while, glued it so it’d look like nothing, and told Holt I’d done what he wanted. Simple. I just didn’t have the chance to get it back, after the fight; too many people hanging around who might’ve seen me. If I had done, nobody would have been the wiser.”

    Meve stared at him, torn between confusion and anger, opened her mouth, and closed it again as an echo of distant horns bounced off the buildings.

    “Damn,” she said. “I have to go. Gascon, find Sir Holt.”

    “What should I do with him?” he asked, as she turned to leave; she hesitated, considered her options, and came to a hasty decision.

    “Just keep tabs on him, don’t let him leave town, and - and we’ll sort this mess out, later.”

    “You’ll find him in the tavern, no doubt,” Gaheris said wearily to Gascon, as she quickly departed.

      She nearly ran back through the streets, but she was still late; she returned to the lists to find the Baroness had started the final round without her. However, she she was in time to see Nolda avoid an immediate defeat by the same method she had used on Sir Eres, but Reynard survived her trick, when his fellow knight hadn’t. She nodded in satisfaction at the display.

    “Your man is a quick study, as he’s always been,” said the Baroness, as if Meve had never been away. The next pass involved no deceptions from either side, nor any displays of brilliance; Nolda blocked an ordinary sort of attack on her shield, and never touched Sir Odo.

    “He’s testing the waters,” Meve said, slightly bored with her favorite’s typically cautious tactics. “How long have they been at it?”

    “You only missed one pass; the foreigner’s better at this than I expected.”

    “She’s tricky,” Giselle noted, appreciatively. “What’s the Count doing, there?”

    There was a short pause; Meve glanced downfield and answered, “Oh, he wants a different lance, I imagine.”

    The delay took a full half minute, due to some confusion on Ethan’s part; the Baroness mumbled a displeased remark about the squire’s ineptitude, and then the combat began again.

    “He wants to make up for Nolda’s left-handedness,” the Baroness explained, louder, “That’s what the long spear is for. Most people don’t learn to fight the way she does -”

    She broke off; Reynard’s change of weapon had answered, and he had dealt a strike that had nearly unseated his opponent; she managed to stay in the saddle by luck or skill and they lined up again.

    “He has her figured out; this’ll be th’ end of it,” said Meve. The Baroness nodded agreement. Giselle looked unconvinced, but, in the end, Reynard landed a direct attack to his opponent’s helm and Nolda crashed to earth at long last.

    “A devilishly difficult play,” the Baroness said, in the silence that followed. “Dangerous, too.”

    Reynard had turned to look behind himself, before his horse had even reached the end of the barricade; Nolda lay still on the ground for a few moments, and then, as her husband vaulted the fence and came running toward her, stirred and sat up. She waved an irritated hand at Bohault and Reynard, who had trotted back and dropped from his horse as soon as he was rid of his lance, but neither paid attention to her gestures or her repeated insistence that she was perfectly fine. The crowd’s general din returned, drowning out their conversation; Meve breathed a relieved sigh and reluctantly turned her thoughts back to Gaheris and Sir Holt, and then - she frowned slightly - Gascon’s mysterious absence during the day.

    “Pity you can’t make her a knight,” Giselle said, of Nolda, interrupting her consideration; Meve’s frown grew thoughtful.

    “A knight,” she repeated to herself, under her breath, watching the muddle on the field break up - Reynard back to his horse, Bohault and Nolda to hers - a vague connection, or suspicion, growing in the back of her mind. She turned abruptly to the Baroness, interrupted an ongoing reminisce on the handful of times she’d seen another knight employ a tactic similar to Reynard’s winning strike, and said, “Listen, Hilde - the black knight; do you know who he is?”

    The Baroness hesitated, slightly confused, and replied, choosing her words carefully, “I believe so, but - wasn’t that what you and the Duke spoke about?”

    “No,” the Queen said, disgruntled. “No, it wasn’t.”      

    “Ah,” she said, looking away toward the approaching victors, “Well, perhaps you should. Count Odo, congratulations on another victory; well fought, Nolda. My lord, you’ve won quite a fine horse, I believe, and you, madam, a sword. They’ll be bringing them along shortly.”

      Any personal urgency she felt to finally sort out her ongoing affairs was wasted; the prizes took very little time to hand out, but a number of unrelated problems were brought to her individual attention as soon as the victors rode away. She sent Giselle back to her tavern with genuine gratitude for her service, dealt out various solutions, and then at last she and the Baroness set off toward the castle. The streets of the city were packed, twilight was setting in, and there was no way to hurry their progress no matter how their guard tried. A wagon that had lost a wheel blocked the way, first, and then a succession of other disruptions: a traveling comedic play about a sorcerer and some maidens, some cows wandering loose in the street, a troupe of drunken minstrels playing festive tunes, a strange procession led by a solemn youth holding a freshly cut horse’s head mounted on a pole as a banner, a group of offended clerics in its wake, handcarts selling buns and ale, and, finally, on the bridge over the castle moat, an armored knight still on his charger, who would not be shifted by man or beast until Meve stepped out of the torchlit crowd and threatened to remove him herself.

    Then there was yet another feast, this time held in the hall and attended by more of the usual crowd - but, of course, with the horde of knights and sundry that had participated in the jousts, somewhat more of them than normal. There were the typical, expected customs - a boar’s head served, bowls of spiced ale passed around, a number of favors and pardons bestowed, gifts received (and given; Count Odo, for one, courteously gave the warhorse he’d won earlier in the day to Nolda, who accepted it in a fiercely embarrassed but otherwise gracious fashion) - and various other ancient rituals observed.

    “I would’ve asked if you thought giving her the horse was a good idea,” Reynard said privately to the Queen, during the Mayor’s inevitable remarks, “But I didn’t catch you in time. If I’m honest it’s less a gift and more a bribe, of a sort; Ethan’s left-handed, same as her, and I thought it might make it easier to convince her to teach him.”

    “There were some delays getting back,” she replied, also in an undertone, her eyes resolutely fixed on the speaker as he recited a hopeful list of future developments for the upcoming year. “This whole afternoon’s been nothing but delays, in fact.”

    “I’ll tell you about it later,” she added, quickly, as the speech ended, aimed a quick but pointed glance at the distant Gascon, who immediately slipped out a side door, and then dismissed the court in the exact words she’d recited for ten years, and, before her, her late husband, and his father, and their distant grandfathers, for all of remembered history.

      Finally getting rid of her guests took much longer than the traditional close to the winter solstice did. As a result, it was past midnight before she made the solitary climb up the stairs to her office, looking forward to finally having a quiet minute to think. However, Reynard and Gascon - and Gaheris - were within, despite the late hour; the squire stopped in the middle of a sentence and all three men automatically turned her way when she stepped through the door. She waved an impatient hand at him to continue and leaned against her own desk, hiding her weariness behind a cold stare. Gaheris returned to repeating his confession; Reynard listened in silence, his expression drifting subtly between offense and genuine confusion. At the end, he frowned and asked, “You - pretended to sabotage my equipment? Why? Why not do it properly, I mean?”

    The squire shrugged.

    “It’s - listen; before I go on, you should know Holt’s an ass, and a stubborn one at that. Yes, I see you’ve all noticed. Well, I couldn’t dissuade him when th’ idea came into his fool head, but I’d no wish t’ see him win a fight by such a trick, against such an obviously superior opponent. It’s not right, and, also, would be easily seen through. What I did seemed the simplest solution.”

    “You could have refused,” Reynard pointed out; Gaheris smiled pityingly at him and shook his head. His response drew an exasperated comment from Meve.

    “You could have done nothing at all, and told him otherwise.”

    He frowned, again mildly offended.

    “I’m no liar,” he said. “If I can find any other solution, I mean. They say a half-truth’s better than a lie, don’t they?”

     Reynard blinked, considered, and then shook his head. Gascon shrugged his shoulders, grudgingly.

    “You’re clearly a capable man,” Meve said. “Why do you serve someone you know isn’t?”

    Gaheris shook his head again, helplessly.

    “Holt’s always been like this,” he explained, “Ever since he was a boy. He’s a decent fighter, but he’s too competitive for his own good, and he’s still not learned t’ pick his battles. However, he is my little brother - well, half-brother; my mother married Sir Ulrich after my father died. He was a stonemason,” he explained, seeing the Queen raise a questioning eyebrow, a gleam of challenge in his dark eyes. “His name was Gors.”

    When she failed to react to his admission, he continued:

    “Anyway, she wanted me t’ look after Holt, best I can. He isn’t a bad person, really, he just -”

    He shrugged.

    “He can’t help how he is, when he’s in a mood, and when he isn’t he’s not the worst of men, or the worst of nobles, for that matter. He’s never struck a knight who’s yielded, for one, and he’s not one to steal or run villainous among th’ yeomen. And, he’s all the family I got left,” he finally finished. Meve nodded and said nothing for a long moment; she noticed that he couldn’t have been any older than herself, but he briefly appeared gray and worn down. She was, to her mild irritation, somewhat sympathetic to his troubles. Gascon glanced from her icy frown to Gaheris’s tired stare, curiously. Reynard watched her carefully.

    “Keep him under guard,” she said to Gascon. “I’m not sure what to do with him or his brother, just yet. Wait - leave him on the landing; the guards there will look after him for the moment. I’ve another matter to discuss, before you go.”

      “He’s the black knight,” she said to Reynard, as Gascon stepped back in without his captive. “Did you know?”

    “No, of course not,” the Count said, frowning slightly. “Although, in truth, th’ idea has crossed my mind, but I found it - unlikely.”

    Gascon hesitated, then shrugged, grinned broadly, and said, “You caught me at last, m’lady; how’d you figure it?”

    “The Baroness it was that discovered you, not me,” Meve said, crossing her arms stubbornly; she attempted to appear angry, but in the end managed only mild, slightly amused, annoyance. “Also, she appears to have found me out, as well, incidentally. In fact, there seems to be very little she doesn’t know.”

    “She’s uncommonly sharp, no doubt about it,” Gascon agreed, readily.

    “So,” she continued, “Is there anything at all to be gained by asking you what you were doing, today?”

    “Won’t tell you unless you first promise not t’ bite my head off,” he said promptly.

    “Yes, very well, as it’s the solstice, but don’t expect any more favors from me before the summer, at earliest. I mean it, Gascon.”

    Reynard sat down, shaking his head at them; Gascon nodded and said, “Fair’s fair. Well, then, it’s a short tale: I won that fight against Sir Holt, then I saw Gaheris come limping ‘round to scrape him up off the turf, and it all came together clear as mud, so I decided it was time t’ stop playing at knights for the day and do some real work.”

    “You could have appeared in the joust as yourself,” Reynard remarked, almost idly, “And not as -”

    “As me,” Meve interrupted, a hint of her previous ire returning.

    “Yes, well - the black knight’s more interesting than I am,” he explained, with a broad shrug. “People have heard of his prowess, or what have you; the dangerous reputation’s an advantage, of sorts.”

    “Yes, we’ve heard, in fact,” Meve said, coldly. “Slew a werewolf, did you?”

    “Sure did,” Gascon replied. “Or, I helped, anyhow. There was a witcher involved. Like Gaheris said: half a truth’s better than a lie, so I let the former take precedence.”

    “That’s not the saying, as you know perfectly well. It’s worse,” Reynard said, rolling his eyes. “Half a truth is worse than a lie.”

    Gascon shrugged at him, grinning slightly. Meve interrupted their tangent, impatiently.

    “And you killed a dragon, they say?”

    “Not I,” the Duke said, quickly, eyeing the Queen’s scowl. “Th’ only dragonslayer here is yourself - although, I did kill a pretty big snake in a roadside inn. The landlady was most impressed. So was some minstrel who happened t’ be around, it appears; he has, uh, embellished th’ incident, somewhat.”

    “Yes, that much is obvious,” Reynard noted, “But how’d he know it was the black knight who did the deed and not merely one Gascon Brossard?”

    At last, Gascon turned uncomfortably self-conscious and clammed up; Meve watched him squirm for a long moment and decided, after a glance at the amused gleam in Reynard’s eye, to not to press the issue further.

    “And you gave poor Sir Orlac a dunking,” she remarked, finally; Gascon looked relieved and seized on the change in subject.

    “Yes, that story’s true,” he admitted. “He’s not a bad fighter, at all, thought he don’t seem to enjoy it much. It took some convincing t’ even get him to go against me, actually, but it was worth the time, in th’ end, to get th’ extra practice.”

    “You have improved, somewhat,” Reynard observed, casually. He shot a quick look at Meve; she spotted it and broke off her intended response, frowning. Gascon either missed or ignored their exchange and said, brightly, “Why thank you, sir.”

    “Although,” the knight continued, “It remains to be seen if you can beat me just yet; Meve, of course, has already unhorsed you once, so no there’s burning question to be answered on that account.”

    “By a trick,” Gascon said, and then, as Reynard shrugged unconcernedly, added, “Look, I only really wanted t’ fight Sir Holt and beat him, again, to prove I could, like. I had no notion of much else.”

    “Yes, very likely,” Meve muttered, rolling her eyes; Reynard continued, despite her:

    “Not afraid to lose, are you?”

    “Of course not; it happens all the time,” Gascon said, mildly indignant.

    “Well, then, tomorrow, if you’ve no other plans, let’s see how good you’ve really become, shall we? Without your intimidating disguise, I mean.”

    “Well, all right,” the Duke said, doubtfully, clearly wary about what exactly he was agreeing to. “I suppose I’m not busy, but - “

    “Good. I’ll see you first thing in the morning, then,” Reynard said, a suggestion of finality in his voice; Gascon still looked uncertain, but nodded and then made a tactical retreat to “see to those other matters.”

    “What the devil are you at, Reynard?” Meve asked, the instant he was gone. He stood up, strode across the room with a self-satisfied smile, and wrapped his arms around her.

    “You’ve had a long day,” he said, “Let me worry about it.”

    “Ugh. Fine, then; do what you want,” she said, ingraciously, leaned her forehead against his chest, and continued with a muffled sigh, “What do you think I should do with Holt? I can’t very well banish him for trying to cheat in a duel, much as I’d like to - he is the sole legal heir to Sir Ulrich, who has been a relatively loyal supporter of the crown - nor can I demote him, since he isn’t one of my own knights.”

    “Just ban him from your tournaments, and the rest of the realm will follow,” he said, as if it was obvious, “It’s the worst thing that could happen to a young knight.”

    “You’d know better than I,” she remarked, unfolded her arms, slid them around his waist, and added, “What about Gaheris?”

    “I don’t know,” Reynard said, “He’s not so easy to deal with.”

    “The trouble is,” Meve said, darkly, “- the trouble is that, in his circumstances, he’s done nothing worse than you or I have in the past, which makes me feel something of a hypocrite if I consider having him arrested for treason - as I certainly could, given your indispensable position and high rank.”

    “Yes, a - a similar thought crossed my own mind, to be honest.”

    “Well, it’s true,” she said, raising her head and frowning up at him. “Isn’t it? Reginald -”

    “He wasn’t quite so bad as Holt.”

    “Because he was older, and the King, and no other reason. Well, and he had you around to clean up after his worst decisions. And, his sons - my sons - are the same, or worse, than Sir Holt. Or were, I mean. Anseis certainly is, in any case.”

    “Perhaps,” Reynard said, thoughtfully, “There’s no need to do anything to Gaheris, at all.”

    “As you’re th’ one he wronged, in th’ end I think what happens to him should really be your decision,” Meve said, shrugging.

    “Well, then, speaking from experience, the man’s trials in keeping control of his brother are worse than anything you might think up.”

    “Yes, I know what you mean. I’ve no wish to see him hang or rot in prison, but banishment would be no curse to him, and we’d have to contend with Holt still, regardless, but without a convenient manager. What a waste; were he noble-born, I’d have some use for a man of his talents, and I could more easily secure his future loyalty. A shame, to have Holt be th’ one who inherits old Ulrich’s lands and titles, and Gaheris remain a squire still.”

    “I agree,” Reynard said. “However, that problem only you can solve.”

    She looked into his eyes, thoughtfully, and nodded.

[justasparkwritings]

Codename Cupid: Chapter 7

Previous: Another Shot at Love Pt. 1 

Pairing: Min Yoongi X OFC

Genre: Secret AgentAU, AgentAU, Light Strangers to Lovers AU, Light Fluff, First Date

Rating: PG13

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Swearing

Summary: OT7 prepares for the next phase in their plan. Seokjin has drinks with an unlikely friend. 

Codename: Another Shot At Love Pt. 2

Fall After Graduation

         It had been a rude awakening when Euna realized Seokjin wasn’t in love with her and didn’t love her. She had been so sure he did that she hadn’t questioned why he never said it, or why she never let those three words slip from her lips. When Jin had broken up with her, devastating the image of their life she had created, she swore she would be more careful. She swore this time, with Yoongi, there would be no Pinterest boards, no texting friends, no romanticizing their relationship by thinking he might be the one, no playlists in his honor. This time, she wouldn’t get her heartbroken.

         Yoongi was everything Seokjin wasn’t and everything he swore he would be. He listened, he cared, he showed up when he said he would and when Euna said she loved him, he didn’t recoil. He leaned in almost as hard as she did, throwing caution to the wind.

         “Do you ever think of getting married?” Euna asked in mid-October, head resting against Yoongi’s bare chest as they snuggled under the blankets of her bed. An old episode of RuPaul’s Drag Race starting in the background, casting a pink and bright light into the darkness of Euna’s bedroom.

         “Uh, no not really,” Yoongi responded. “Why do you?”

         “Yeah, I think it might be nice, to someday get married, have a family,” Euna snuggled closer to Yoongi, ear pressed against his heart. He inhaled slowly, monitoring the rhythm.

         “Maybe, I don’t know,” Yoongi said again.

         “Mm, my parents are looking forward to meeting you on Sunday,” Euna’s delicate reminder sent Yoongi’s mind into overdrive.

         “Yeah, it’ll be great,” He answered.

         “My siblings are very excited; they’ve never met a boyfriend of mine.”

         “Can we turn this off? I’m getting tired.” Yoongi cut the conversation short, the list of things he had to do before Sunday ran through his mind unperturbed.

         “Yeah, of course,” Euna sat up and looked at him, his words had hinted at distress, but his eyes were calm.

         Leaning in to place a soft kiss on her lips, Yoongi muttered, “Goodnight,”

         “Goodnight, love you,” Euna said. Yoongi only nodded before laying down and closing his eyes. He was fucked.

~~~~~

         “She wants to marry you?” Seokjin nearly yelled as he looked over parts of the transcripts from last night.

         “No, she wants to get married, to someone, and have kids,” Yoongi corrected.

         “How many months has it been?” Hoseok asked, eyes moving from his documents.

         “Four,” Seokjin and Yoongi said at the same time.

         “You have to make it a few more months,” Namjoon reminded him.

         “She’s planning a wedding!” Yoongi yelled.

         “Have you bugged her computer?” Namjoon asked.

         “Yes, she has several Pinterest boards, but they have been inactive for nearly two years,” Yoongi had deep dived her accounts, scoured them for any sign of mistrust or malfeasance, all he’d found was Pinterest boards dedicated to the life she thought she was building, or could be building, with Seokjin. It was all wishful thinking, honest to god hope that Cupid had placed in their relationship. Yoongi felt remorseful that his intentions weren’t pure, all she wanted was to find love that was different from what her family had given her. He couldn’t fault her for that desire.

         “Okay, so she’s not planning your wedding yet, which is fine. You’re not going to marry her.” Hoseok was busy updating Yoongi’s driver’s license, the fake was near expiration and the mandates had changed.

         “How ethical is it to continue a relationship when you’re not in love, and don’t want to be with that person?” Seokjin looked from Yoongi to Namjoon, hoping one of them would have an answer.

         “Cupid isn’t a person, she’s part of an organization that is ruining the globe,” Yoongi snapped.

         Stepping in before the men could continue sparring, Namjoon spoke, “We have a plan, Yoongi just has to stick with it.”

         “Four more months?” Yoongi asked.

         “Give or take,” Namjoon said.

         “Fine, but if it gets any fucking weirder –

         “You can start becoming distant January 1, that’s the earliest phase 3 can be enacted,”

         “Fine,” Yoongi grit his teeth.

         “You’re meeting the family next week, are you ready?”

         “That also seems a bit much, right?” Seokjin asked.

         “Worldwide, shut up.” Yoongi wasn’t all bite, but when it came to work, there was no space for his gummy smile and penchant for random dancing.

         “Yoongi,” Namjoon warned.

         “I know the plan. Dinner, ask leading questions, hint at CEO, get a read on how Cuttlefish is doing, snoop,” Recited Yoongi, “And it wasn’t me who suggested the dinner, it was Cupid.”

         Seokjin nods, knowing he overstepped his bounds. Trust Yoongi, Namjoon’s voice rung in his ears. Trust Yoongi.

         “We’ve got Mochi set to go?” Namjoon asked Yoongi.

         “Yeah, he’s got a trainee running security while he’s with his mark,” Yoongi answered, still seething at Jin.

         “Where do these trainees come from?” Seokjin asked.

         “Did you wake up today and decide you wanted to be deeply annoying?” Yoongi’s eyes narrowed at Jin, daggers glaring into his hyung. “Because you’re fucking excelling.”

         “Yoongi, go to your office and prepare,” Namjoon snapped, tired of the bad attitude Yoongi had been sporting since Euna brought up marriage. “If you’re going to be a dick, be a dick alone.”

         “Fine,” Yoongi huffed.

         Namjoon turned his attention from Yoongi to Seokjin. “Yoongi isn’t always-

         “It’s been over a year, he still doesn’t like me,” Jin interrupted. “I’ve done exactly what he’s asked me, brought him coffee, tried to become his friend, and he continues to look at me as if I’m Dick Cheney, circa 2006.”

         “It’s not a you-thing, Jin,” Namjoon took his glasses off before placing his hands over his face. “Yoongi doesn’t like change. He’s usually easy going, and in his heart, he’s very soft and welcoming. But you’re the eldest now, you bring a new energy that in whatever way, plays up his, and brings out Hoseok. He wants to be your friend, he does, but he has a hard time crossing the line between colleagues and friends who hang out in their free time. He’s been through a lot, and this relationship with Cupid is bringing up every emotion he thought he’d worked through. He’s been working his ass off for four years on this case and wasn’t in any place to be in a relationship this intense. Yoongi doesn’t get close to people until they prove themselves to him. Don’t ask me what the test is, I don’t know, but please, be understanding and patient. He’ll come around.”  

         “If you say so,” Seokjin mumbled. Gathering his things, he stood to walk towards his office. Yoongi watched as he passed, knowing full well he owed Jin an apology.

         “You wanna get a beer after work?” Yoongi had followed Jin to his office and stood in the door frame, head covered in a black beanie, matching his black v-neck and dark wash jeans. He looked like he was ready to begin hibernating.

         “You’re speaking to me?” Jin didn’t look up from his monitor, his college behavior, one that Euna had worked so hard to get rid of, had come back in full force.

         “Yeah, and I’m sorry I was a dick. You wanna get a beer after work?”

         “Your apology sucks, but sure,” Jin responded.

         “Cool, wheels up at 7,” Yoongi shuffled back to his office, glancing at Namjoon through the glass and rolling his eyes at the smirk on his boss’ face.

~~~~~

         The bar wasn’t crowded when Seokjin and Yoongi walked in, and finding a table easily lent itself to an awkward few minutes waiting for the server. Yoongi moved through the space with ease, a telltale sign he’d been there before. In his year working with OT7, Jin had learned a lot about how to be perceptive and cunning, how to notice things he had once overlooked. He’d taken a page from Henry Spencer’s book, and mindlessly counted the hats in the room. It was too easy, with ten people in the bar, the only hat belonged to Yoongi.

         “Look, I don’t do well with change. I’m sure Namjoon has told you as much,” Yoongi started.

         “Yeah, he did.”

         “I have very few friends, I’m not great at relationships of any kind,” Yoongi explained. “I’ve never, I’m not good at it.”

         “Do you want to be?” Seokjin asked.

         “Yeah, I’ve been trying. Joonie and Hobi have been great.”

         “Joonie?” Seokjin giggled.

         “Yeah, when he lets you into his inner circle, you can call him Joonie,” Yoongi laughed. “I’m sure he’ll like, take you to a Bonsai garden and explain his life too,”

         “Why are you the first?”

         “I’m the most guarded, and the eldest until you,” Yoongi sipped his beer.

         “So how exactly did you –

         “You don’t join our group or go looking for us. We find you,”

         “Like how you found me?” Jin asked.

         “Like how they found all of us, except Joon. But that’s his story to tell.”

         “When did they find you?”

         “I started training when I was 17, but before that I was already coding,” Yoongi told him. “They showed up at my house, Namjoon in tow.”

         “Namjoon was there?”

         “He was so small, he looked so scared. He’s only a year younger than me but I could tell he’d seen some shit. Anyway, they talked to my parents who decided I could forgo my basic, subpar high school experience and work full time. Hobi joined shortly after and the three of us became brothers. They’ve been my best friends for what feels like decades. I’d bleed for them, and they’d do the same for me, no questions asked.” Yoongi told him.

           Jin nodded, he’d sensed the impenetrable bond between the men when he’d first arrived. Yoongi was right, Hobi and Namjoon had wanted to take him out, have a heart to heart, a melding of the minds, but Yoongi, as the eldest, was the first to follow through.

Sipping his beer, Seokjin spoke, “Have you always been on security?”

         “Yes,” Yoongi answered.

         “How did they find you?” It was a question he’d been wanting to ask for over a year, how did we all end up here, and who do we work for?

         Smirking, Yoongi answered with a shrug of his shoulders. “Allegedly I broke into too many government agencies across the globe,”

         “What?” The shock on his face couldn’t be erased.

         Shrugging again, “Allegedly,”

         “Allegedly, you figured out how to de-crypt and force your way into government systems to do what? Steal information?” Seokjin’s voice was a hushed whisper, eyes never leaving Yoongi’s but conscious of the loitering individuals around them.

         “Allegedly, it was just for fun,” Yoongi smiled as he laughed, gums on display, his antics proving to be humorous all these years later.

         “Allegedly, how old were you?”

         “Oh, like 16,” Yoongi sipped his beer.

         “16?”

         “They catch us young,” He answered.

         Pushing his way through his concern, Seokjin asked, “Which country was the easiest?”

         “Anyone in South America, Europe, US and Canada were allegedly, child’s play,”

         Seokjin sat with that for a moment, thinking through the countries and continents left. “Asia the hardest?”

         “Asia, Russia, some African countries, Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan, Saudi Arabia, UAE, very difficult, but allegedly, not impossible.” Yoongi wasn’t laughing anymore, a smirk replaced his joyous grin.

         “You’re a badass,” Seokjin spoke without thinking.

         “Yes,”

         “Do you like work?” Jin questioned.

         “I love it. Do you like it?”

         “I don’t know yet,” He shrugged.

         “Mm, you hate that I’m dating Cupid,” Yoongi offered.

         Pausing to acknowledge the feeling in his chest, he took a beat before answering. “I’m not jealous, I just, I wish we had had a better ending. It feels so unresolved, and tenuous. She deserved more than what I could give her.”

         “Yeah, but that’s the job,”

         “I don’t have to like it just because that’s the job,” Jin rolled his eyes.

         “True, but you have to get over it.”

         “Why did the marriage talk really freak you out?”

         “I have a fucking heart, Jin,” Yoongi exhaled slowly, “Just because it isn’t in this relationship, doesn’t mean I want to break hers. Now I have to deceive her? That’s fucking brutal, she’s barely recovered from you.”

         “Do you have feelings for her?” Jin wanted to know.

         “No,”

         “No?”

         “Cupid is nice, but, honestly, I threw a fit when Joon brought me the plan.”

         “He didn’t come up with the plan?”

         “What you have to understand,” Yoongi lowered his voice, “is that there’s always someone to answer to. Always.”

         “You don’t want to get married?” said Jin.

         “I might, someday, but like I said, I’m not good with relationships,” Yoongi was nothing but truthful and sincere.

         “That’s what you have to remember when you have dinner with the Valentine’s,” Seokjin said absentmindedly. “They’re all so desperate to be loved, that every relationship they’re in becomes overwhelmed by their desire to keep it afloat. Their worst relationships, though, without a doubt, are the ones they have with each other.”

Next: Codename Another Shot at Love Pt. 3

[geronimo-11]

These Secrets That We Hide

Chapter: 1/?

Pairing: Jeremy Danvers x OFC

Summary: Katherine Adler thought she was moving to upstate New York with her brother for a chance to start her life over. But when events from her past catch up to her and secrets about the family down the road come to light, her dreams of a fresh start start to crumble. It seems like everyone has secrets to hide.

Warnings: None

A/N: This has been a long time in the making, but it’s finally finished! The first chapter of Katherine’s canon!! Big thank you to @mtwalker for brainstorming with me and just being an all around amazing person and friend.

This strays from canon quite a bit, but just stay with me okay?

Read it here or on AO3!

Chapter 1: Loyalty

No one under the age of fifty willingly moved to Bear Valley.

Most of the inhabitants were elderly retirees fleeing the pressures of city life, or locals whose families had been there for generations and just couldn’t picture a life outside the familiar comfort of their small town. The few young people who did live there were born there, but even then they were looking forward to the day they could bolt to greener, more exciting, pastures.

So when Nick got a call from a friend saying that he was making the long trek from Tennessee to upstate New York with the idea of putting down roots closer to the Pack, he was definitely surprised. He was excited to see an old friend — and at the prospect of having someone new to talk to besides Jeremy, Clay, and Elena — but surprised nonetheless.

Most of the Pack wanted to live as far from being under the Alpha’s thumb as they could get, so they could live their lives as ordinary as possible. Well, actually, so they could break as many rules without getting caught as possible. For someone who didn’t have as close of a relationship with Jeremy as the rest of them, it was odd for any member of the Pack to suddenly want to live so close. But, regardless, Simon was coming, and he seemed very adamant about the fact. 

Nick waited until the day after Simon had told him he would be officially moved in before getting in his car and driving down to greet him, just so he’d have enough time to get settled. The house Simon purchased bordered Stonehaven property and was barely a five minute drive from the house. It was closer to town, but there was an abundance of trees and land this far north, meaning there was plenty of space for a wolf to run and not be seen. As part of the Pack, Simon could even venture onto the Stonehaven property for a run if he wanted. All in all it was a pretty nice setup he'd made for himself.

The road to Simon’s house was long and straight and Nick’s car kicked up dirt in the dry August heat as he turned off the main road and onto a gravel driveway. He thought briefly of having to wash his car again when he got back to Stonehaven. Or maybe he’d run it through the carwash in town. See if he could finally learn the name of the girl working the desk… Focus.

The house came into view and Nick whistled under his breath. From what he remembered, the old farmhouse had belonged to an elderly woman in town who had died almost a year ago. She hadn’t been able to really take care of the house due to her age, and after remaining unoccupied for so long Nick was expecting the house to look a bit worse for wear. That didn’t seem to be the case.

The outside of the house had a fresh coat of white paint and the new porch was large enough to accomodate a wooden swing and two rocking chairs. Nick could smell the strong scent of new mulch in the flower bed as he parked his car and noticed that there were freshly planted bushes decorating the outside of the house. Simon had apparently been hard at work.

Nick shut the car door as he took in all of the new renovations and made his way towards the house. He hadn’t made it far before the front door opened -- heavy dark oak that didn’t creak on the hinges, also very new -- and Simon stepped out.

Simon hadn’t changed that much from the last time Nick had seen him three years ago. His messy brown hair was pushed back from his face --  uselessly, it would seem, since several strands still hung down in his dark brown eyes. A gray t-shirt clung to his broad shoulders and outlined the muscles in his arms. The only difference Nick could really see was that he hadn’t shaved in a while. Heavy stubble clung to his jaw and Simon swiped a hand over it as he hopped hastily down the porch steps. 

“Hey, man,” Simon greeted, holding out his hand and flashing teeth in a grin. “Good to see you.”

“Yeah, you too. Been a while.” Nick grasped Simon’s hand tightly and pulled him into a hug. He clapped a hand on Simon’s back and stepped away, looking around at the house once again. “Looks like you’ve been busy. This place was practically falling apart from what I heard.”

Simon turned back to the house and smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, it needed some work. I can’t take all the credit, though. I had some guys come in and do some work before we got here, I just okayed everything over the phone.”

Nick raised a brow, doing a quick scan of the outside and then back towards the house. “We?”

Simon’s eyes widened and he turned to Nick with a nervous laugh. 

“Yeah. Um…” he paused and cleared his throat. Another laugh bubbled anxiously passed his lips and he ran a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon. I thought I’d have a chance to…” 

Nick crossed his arms across his chest. “A chance to what?”

Silence. Simon bounced on the heels of his feet and gave Nick a wary glance. 

Nick frowned and took a step forward. “Simon?”

With another glance in his direction Simon gestured for Nick to follow him towards the house. He didn’t say another word until the front door shut behind them.

“I found my sister.” The words seemed to tumble from Simon’s mouth before he could stop himself. He was practically vibrating with excitement, eyes lit up with barely restrained joy.

Nick raised his brows and smiled. Simon and his sister had had a falling out about six years ago, severe enough that his sister had left their hometown, cut off all communication with her family, and remained completely off the grid. Simon couldn’t find her anywhere. That is, until about a year and a half ago, when he’d come to Nick wanting to reconnect with his sibling, and Nick managed to pull enough strings to get a general location for him. He hadn’t heard anything afterwards, when Simon went basically off the grid himself, but Nick was happy that the two seemed to have reconciled.

“That’s great, Si. I’m happy to hear it. But, uh,” He looked around the small entryway Simon had shuffled them into. “Why did we have to come in here for you to tell me that?”

“Because that’s not all I have to tell you, and I thought you’d feel better hearing the rest sitting down.” All the previous excitement Simon had shown when they first entered the house was gone. Even though he was still trying to put on a light-hearted air, he looked more serious than Nick had ever seen him. 

A pit settled in the middle of Nick’s stomach and he cast Simon an apprehensive look as he allowed himself to be led into the living room and seated on the couch.

“Is everything okay? Are you and your sister good now, or..?” Nick prodded when it seemed like Simon may fall silent again. Dancing around the subject was making his fingers twitch. He clasped his hands between his knees and waited for Simon to, hopefully, tell him what was going on.

“Yeah, Katherine and I are fine. Better than fine, actually.” Simon sat in an armchair across from Nick and grinned. “I apologized and we talked and cleared the air. It’s almost like nothing happened at all.”

Simon’s smile faltered slightly and he looked down at the floor. 

“But it just didn’t feel like enough to say sorry. Not after everything…” He trailed off and shook his head, his eyes glazing over as he lost himself in thought. After a moment he blinked, coming back to himself, and looked up at Nick. “That’s why I bought her this house.”

Nick stared at him. He… he must have heard wrong.

“You bought her… this house?” He gestured around the room with a single finger. Simon nodded. Nick’s eyes widened and he felt his jaw drop. He couldn’t think of anything to say other than, “That’s an awfully big gesture for just an apology.”

Simon’s eyes darkened and Nick watched as his jaw clenched and unclenched reflexively. 

“There’s more to it than that.”

Before Nick could snap and ask what the hell was going on, they heard the rumbling of a car engine coming down the driveway. Nick glanced out the window behind him and then back to Simon, only to find the other wolf’s eyes were already on him.

“I haven’t told Jeremy any of this,” Simon confessed cautiously. Nick pressed his lips in a firm line, the pit in his stomach growing with every word.

“I was planning to, I swear,” he placated with open palms when he saw the look on Nick’s face. “But I wanted to call you first and have you come over so I could tell you everything. You just beat me to it.”

Nick shook his head, eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. “Why would you call me-” The realization clicked and Nick felt his face drop. “You want me to tell Jeremy first. To cushion the blow for when you talk to him.”

Because Simon will have to talk to him. If he brought a human into his house -- a house that was basically on Stonehaven property -- without telling Jeremy, it definitely wouldn’t go unanswered. It probably wouldn’t have gone unanswered if he had told Jeremy. Regardless, either Simon would go talk to Jeremy or Jeremy would go talk to Simon, and the latter would be infinitely worse.

The engine was getting louder now and Simon glanced anxiously out the window. 

“There’s one other thing that I haven’t told you about,” he started slowly, standing up and walking towards the door. Nick stood to follow.

“You mean other than the fact you have a human living with you on Stonehaven’s doorstep?” Nick quipped. “I don’t see how it can get much worse.”

Simon offered him a wry smile. He paused with his hand on the doorknob and met Nick’s gaze.. Something flashed in Simon’s eyes then -- anxiety, protectiveness, fear -- but they all vanished before Nick could pinpoint just one.

“I just… I need you to keep an open mind.”

With that said he opened the door and stepped out on the porch, leaving Nick following after him slightly bewildered. There was an old, red jeep sputtering down the driveway when they went outside. The brakes squeaked as it pulled to a stop next to Nick’s car, and the jeep hissed and groaned so badly as the engine was shut off that Nick wouldn’t have been surprised if the entire thing fell apart right in front of him.

“I wish she’d get rid of that thing,” Simon mumbled beside him, shifting side to side as the engine gave a final sputter before it died. The driver’s side door creaked as it was forced open, and a woman stepped out. 

She was fairly tall, with long dark hair and sharp cheekbones. A smile lit up her pretty face when she saw the two of them on the porch and she held up a hand to wave. Nick held up his hand in response before realizing just exactly who she was. He looked at her and then again at his friend, brows raised.

“That’s your sister?” He asked. Simon shot him a half-hearted glare.

“Don’t.”

Before Nick could defend himself there was another loud, metallic groaning sound and one of the back doors of the jeep popped open. Considering Katherine was leaning over the passenger seat and grabbing a bag, there was no way she could have opened it. So, who..?

He didn’t have to wait long to find out. A pair of small legs poked out from the side of the jeep, and then a mess of sandy brown hair was barrelling towards them, shouting excitedly. 

“Uncle Si!” 

It was a little boy, probably no more than six or seven years old. He was bolting through the grass with the same blinding grin on his face that Katherine had given them moments ago.

Oh.

This must be her son. Nick looked over at Simon, who was actively avoiding looking at him. He was grinning, holding out his arms for the boy as he raced up the steps and into his uncle’s arms. 

When the breeze picked up, Nick realized why.

He had thought at first that maybe Simon was avoiding his gaze because he’d let not one but two humans into his home. But that wasn’t it. The wind picked up, ruffling the boy’s hair and carrying his scent towards the house. At first, Nick thought he was imagining things so he took a deeper inhale. His blood turned cold and his gaze immediately snapped to Simon, not even bothering to hide the panic he was feeling and wishing he had bit his tongue because things just got much, much worse.

The boy was a wolf.

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

“Does she know?” Nick asked, glancing down the hall where Katherine had disappeared. 

After brief introductions Nick offered to help carry in the luggage and boxes Katherine had stacked in the back of her jeep. She had offered to make dinner for him as thanks for helping them unpack, but Nick politely declined, saying he couldn’t stay long and just wanted to catch up with her brother for a bit. He’d turned on Simon the second she was out of sight. They hadn’t even made it past the entryway.

“Of course she doesn’t know. Do you honestly think I’d bring her here if she did? We’d be on the other side of the country by now,” Simon scoffed.

Nick threw his hands in the air, exasperated, “I don’t know! I’m still trying to figure out why you would bring her here in the first place!”

Simon shushed him, glancing down the hallway to make sure they hadn’t been overheard. He turned back to Nick earnestly, raking a hand through his hair.

“Listen, I just… I couldn’t just take Caleb away from her. And even if I had wanted to, there’s no way I’d have been able to do it without a nationwide manhunt being called down on me. Believe it or not I actually brought her here to keep her from finding out her son is a werewolf.”

Nick gaped at him.

“By surrounding her with other werewolves?” his voice strained, rising in pitch and cracking slightly in disbelief as he tried to keep from yelling. “I’m pretty sure she’s gonna notice when he hits puberty and you have to put deadbolts on his bedroom door.” 

Simon’s lips pressed in a firm line, biting back a retort, but remarkably he said nothing. Sighing heavily Nick brought up a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Do you honestly think Jeremy will be okay with this?” he asked. Simon laughed bitterly.

“Of course not,” he admitted. “There’s nothing about this situation that’s okay. Hell, I’m not even really okay with this. But I wouldn’t be here if I thought I had another choice.”

Nick rubbed his palms on his eyes and took a deep breath. He shook his head and looked Simon in the eye, making sure every word he said would register, that Simon was aware of the danger he was putting his family in.

 “You are knowingly backing him into a corner, Simon. And you might not be glad you did.”

A warning was all he could give him now. Maybe if Simon had bothered to call him earlier, Nick could have listed all the reasons why this was an absolutely horrible idea. But he hadn’t, and now they are where they are, with Simon digging himself a hole and Nick apparently the one handing him the shovel. Jeremy was likely to bury them both if they weren’t careful.

Simon swallowed and offered a sharp nod. “I know. But what was I supposed to do, let my nephew become a Mutt?”

Nick rubbed at the side of his face, exasperated. He threw his hands in the air helplessly. 

“No, just… I don’t know.”

“Exactly.”

Nick placed his hands on his hips, words dying in his mouth as the boy -- Caleb, Simon had told him during their introductions -- ran down the staircase beside them.

“Look!” he held up a small plastic dinosaur to Nick, a grin stretching across his face. “Uncle Si got this for me! They’re all over my room, even my bed has dinosaurs on it!”

Nick smiled at him. “That’s really cool, bud.”

Caleb offered Nick another toothy grin and took off down the hall, yelling excitedly about his new bedroom to his mother in the kitchen. Once he was out of sight Nick ran a hand over his jaw and shared an uneasy look with his friend. 

“What exactly are you going to tell Jeremy?”

Simon exhaled a long, sharp gust of air and rubbed a hand at the back of his neck.  

“The truth. All of it.”

Nick laughed once, a humorless puff of air past his lips. Katherine emerged from the kitchen then, with Caleb gripping her hand tightly and dragging her down the hall. His face was alight with excitement and his mouth was moving a mile a minute as he urged his mother towards the stairs.

Katherine’s eyes held the patience of a saint as she looked down at her son, smiling encouragingly at him and nodding every so often as she allowed herself to be drug across the hardwood floor. Nick felt his chest tighten, his thoughts turning to his own mother. The brief time they’d spent together in Ontario felt like a lifetime ago now, and he knew he’d never get the chance to see her again. He couldn’t, for her sake, and it killed him inside every time he thought about it. And not just her, either. Jeremy was still trying to decide what to do about Rachel. He hadn't made any decision yet, but he had to eventually.

As they passed, Katherine looked up and met Nick’s gaze. She smiled at him, the corners of her hazel eyes crinkling, and Nick felt himself smile in return. He looked between Katherine and Caleb one more time, saw the joy on each of their faces, and knew he’d made his decision. There was no way he could pass up an opportunity to help a wolf stay with his mother. He'd lost his own, and he may have no real say in what happens with Rachel and her son, but he has a chance to do something now. When they’d disappeared up the stairs once more, Nick sighed resignedly and dug his car keys out of his pocket.

“Well, it better be convincing. For your sake and for theirs.”

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

Katherine offered to make dinner twice more before Nick left and he turned them both down as kindly as he could -- although when she mentioned grilled steak he felt his resolve falter and mouth water. But he took one glance at Simon and shook his head, telling her he’d be more than happy to join them some other night. For now, he needed to think. About, well, everything. 

First he needed to figure out how to tell Jeremy about the situation that he had inadvertently dropped on their doorstep. If he’d known the real reason why Simon was looking for his sister-- no. He couldn’t go there. Not when he didn’t even know if Simon knew Katherine had had a son. He would give him the benefit of the doubt. For now.

The drive back to Stonehaven seemed shorter than the drive to Simon’s house, and before he even realized it Nick was turning onto the driveway. He felt his stomach clench and his grip tightened on the steering wheel. It was one of the few times in his life where he was genuinely nervous to go home. 

With any luck no one would be awake, and he could think about the best way to approach the news tonight and tell Jeremy about everything tomorrow. Simon hadn’t mentioned when he was thinking about coming to Stonehaven, but Nick knew he’d need to fill Jeremy in before that happened. He didn’t want Jeremy getting blindsided like he had been, especially considering the Alpha’s influence would literally mean life or death. 

His car rolled to a stop in front of the house and Nick felt his stomach sink. There was a light on in the living room. Maybe it was Clay or Elena, sitting up for a drink. Although, if they thought they were alone, he should probably knock before he entered the house. He snorted his amusement and turned the car off to head towards the front door.

Nick peeked into the living room when he got into the house, and the door shut behind him with a foreboding click as he felt his stomach sink impossibly lower.

Luck, it seemed, was not on his side tonight. 

Jeremy was sitting at his desk, a lamp beside him providing a soft yellow glow, just enough for him to see the papers in front of him. He looked up as Nick walked in and smiled.

Well. There was certainly no avoiding him now.

“You’re back late,” Jeremy commented off-handedly. Nick scratched at the back of his neck as he walked into the living room, stopping just in front of Jeremy’s desk.

“Yeah, we, uh, ended up talking for a while. There was a lot for us to catch up on,” he mumbled the last part and Jeremy raised a brow at him.

“And? How is Simon? It’s been a while since he was here last. I was surprised to hear he wanted a change of scene so suddenly.” He looked down at the papers in his hand and Nick shifted on his feet.

“He’s… good.”

His hesitation made Jeremy pause and then Nick was on the receiving end of two intense, questioning eyes. Suddenly Nick was sent back to all the times he’d seen that exact look when he was a child, the few instances when his father wasn’t around and he’d managed to sneak cookies before dinner only to be caught after the fact with chocolate all over his face. He squirmed just like he did when he was eight years old and Jeremy zeroed in on the movement. 

“Nick?” he prodded, dropping the papers on his desk and giving the younger wolf his full attention.

Taking a deep breath through his nose Nick stepped forward. He pressed his palms flat on the cool wood of the desk to steady himself and looked Jeremy in the eye.

“There’s, um… There’s something you should know.”

[mikkock]

Hey hi your murder mystery art is super totally cool and amazing and I'd like to Extra! Extra! hear all about it *rattles bells*

haha wow i cant believe ud ask me THIS! unbelievable! now im gonna have to make a long post!

all info under the cut cause im kind like that ♥

For reasons I felt like making a Fancy Ass murder mystery story, with you know, hella complex secret storylines and everyone having drama and shit, and one person died but the more the story goes the less people care about who did the murder and the more they want tHE JUICY DETAILs. X and Y had an afFAIR you say!!! well that’s thousands time more interesting than that murder that happened, who cares about the culprit its not like any of us are going anywhere anyway! tell me more about the marital issues!

The ultimate Vibes are Clue (the game, ya kno, it had a movie too, and that movie was shot with three different endings -fun fact- so that movie theatres could play one alternatively that way people wouldnt get spoiled or even if they did they would not get the ending they were spoiled or even if all three were spoiled you couldnt know which ending you were getting anyway, big dick move, cause its an old movie and film is expensive, also that movie stupid and campy, ALSO I ONLY LEARNED MAKING THIS AU THAT IN ENGLISH THE GAME’S CALLED “CLUE” wE CALL IT CLUEDO therefore my wip playlist is called cluedo. because. fuck it.)(i just have an emotional attachment to that game i even had a cd rom video game version and it was the spookiest shit for a 6 years old, trust me, i played it so much tho i didnt even understand the rULES i was just making scenarios like gathering the characters in rooms n making conversations outloud cause honestly the banter is the best part of a murder mystery) ANYWAY that sure is a whole paragraph of tangent. 

BUT YE the inspo from the Clue game. you can tell it from the Colours obviously, everyone’s colour codded.(even everyone’s name is colours as well you’ll see it’s real dang fancy! im just remaking that game but with 2932020 characters and more behind the scenes drama and also for gay people.)

So BASIC PLOT!

Sir Belyy, the dude in white, is The Rich Powerful Respected Fancy Boss, and he throws a Fancy Reception Party with his closest friends and associates to celebrate the opening of a new branch of his business. All the lads gather in his wonderful little very isolated mansion in the middle of nowhere, like ok he got a death wish or something or he’s very trusting of his business partners, but not a good move, cause in the middle of the reception, as A Phat Storm Starts (for plot convenience, we going with a campy vibe if you couldnt tell), his body is found, it’s awful, there’s a killer on the loose! All the guests gather, and attempt to maybe contact the authorities, to not avail, since The Storm ya know, phone lines are Broken my dude. Its clear that the culprit is among them, since no one could have entered the house, or left it (cuz once again, ThE sTORm). And then it’s all about interrogating each other, distrust, alliances and betrayal, revealing one’s deepest secrets when they form an alibi and revealing someone else’s deepest secret for they could be a motive! Meanwhile there’s a dead body in the mansion just chillin there. 

.

So as I mentioned, I changed everyone’s name to be colour related (or ya know, food or flowers of that colour cause sometimes a colour in a language would not work as a name given the way names work in that culture all that jazz) which is the trippiest thing cause tHATS NOT YALLS USUAL NAMES but its fun (also changed so many ages hgfhs it was a trip)(still no one’s really old i guess i got boomerphobia). The “Cast” is clearly the most important part, and if ur a True “My OCs” Connaisseur (hdfghd the most useful skill to have, knowing *MY* Charactersdshgd) you may have recognised some faces and can already read some vibes and predict who will be progressing the plot and who will be yelling at people throwing accusations ghdfgd.

(god i wish i hadnt slacked off making the portraits of everyone in that AU i only have 3 tho that’s so sad so ill just make little sketches just cause <3 only text??? i got too many hoes with no attention span for that)

.

Sir BELYY (the one who dIEs lmao)

(bust shot missing the fact that this man is the tallest beefiest lad around)

Intimidating, powerful, composed, wealthy, carries the name of a family who has generations of control to it’s reputation, he’s The Man that hoes who believe in the economy wishes they were. As in, the “self made” man who only just happened to benefit from having a wealthy background to uplift his plans. In his youth, he wanted to prove his worth, seperated himself from his father, started a business, that business became big, then got attached to the family’s business, bam back to square one but with Reputation now. There seemed to be VERY big tension between him and The Father, some speculate it had to do with his unknown mother, and some family drama there, and it never got resolved as old man Belyy died quite young (the jUICY speculations are that current sir Belyy mURDEREd old man sir Belyy, fucked up if true!). People love him though in general, as he has that reputation of “Cold Lad With a Gold Heart” aka he takes people under his wings, donates, doesnt treat his employees like the absolute worst garbage etc... you know, he’s rich and a half decent person, so obviously he’s an angel on earth. But does it matter though, he’s dead! that’s the concept of the story!  

Mr.GRAY (the grey guest)(who could have guessed from the name)

He’s one of Sir Belyy’s oldest employees, and benefits from a high rank in the company. But, sadly for him, he’s been stagnating lately, as newer, youngest employees seem to have Belyy’s favours, and are his prefered associates for important tasks and positions. Therefore he has Some Bitterness, Some Salt, Some Distaste, some unbriddled but professionally muted hatred for Specific people in the company. He can be an antagonistic figure, but the amount of time he spent in Belyy’s circle grants him an immense quantity of information about the man, but mostly, about his business. Anything about the company’s history, dealings, operations, he’s aware of, either having been told of them, or having snooped around to obtain, immune to being questioned due to his legitimacy in the company.

Mr.LIM (the green guest)

Remember when it was said that Gray had beef with some employees cause they were younger and rose to high ranks faster than him and became Belyy’s favourite over him? Yeah well here comes the one he hates the most for that (ofc he’s belyys fave cuz he’s Mine <3) Our lad caught Belyy’s attention for his Exploits in like, em fancy high school tournaments of smart people, it’s a thing its ridiculous, making kids compete on Smart stuff for the pride of their schools n shit, well homie Lim got clout when doing that, and Belyy was extremely interested cause that kid’s main thing was how “this young lad got mad strategic skills tf are u a war general or smth how fancy”, and that’s a coveted skill for ruthless business. So as soon as the kid is an adult, bam, join the company my dude. And because he’s just that Cool n Sexy ofc he met the expectations Belyy had, and old man Belyy got attached cuz it do be such a young lad, a kid, mentally i am adopting. That’s how you get a youngas employee becoming the right hand man of one the phatest CEO in a few years, and even make your way into being a Good Lad on top of a business partner. And that’s how you get Gray to hate your ass too. Now though, fine lad with mad strategic skills, rising to power that fast, and even infiltrating Belyy’s private life? If I were Gray I’d call suspicion there’s surely some shady stuff going no way we’re just dealing with a nice fella who just happens to work good and be friendly to the boss right?

Herra MUSTA (the black “guest”)

Belyy’s newest butler, assistant, house keeper, he multitasks. His family has been tied to Belyy’s for generations, fullfilling roles of help, but also of confidents. He’s been the head butler since only a short time, after his mother passed, and as such is still “in training” you could say, despite having served the family his whole life. There are rumours going around that the contract tying his family to the Belyys may end on his generation and need to be resigned. He known the manor by heart, and carries all keys to any locked room (and mostly, The Master Key, cause in an old house, some doors may be locked beyond all still existing keys). He also knows secrets of the family that no one else knows, but good luck getting em out of him, he’s under contract not to divulge em bro.

Mr. HASSEL (the brown guest)

Belyy’s childhood friend. They grew up together, pictured their dreams together, sworn to flourish together, worked together when starting the company, and then Hassel felt he should create his own thing instead of depending on his friend’s existing wealth, and while Belyy’s business went wild, his never took off. They still stayed very close, despite the massive difference in wealth. Belyy considers him his closest friend, the one person he can trust (fucked if hassel did the murder lemme tell u). So of course, he’s still always invited to the Prestigious meet ups where’s he’s free to feel uncomfortably out of place amongst all the rich and powerful people that he could have been a part of had he had a tiny bit of luck and a small loan from a wealthy relative...People LOVE saying he’s still hanging out with Belyy so much to leech off his wealth, cause of course they do! His bestie status means he has a whole different brand of information of Belyy than his butler does, the Most Intimate Stuff, the Childhood Stuff. The Juicy stuff ya kno...But Bro Code, its all secrets...

Sir RUZH (the red “guest”)

Deep dive into Belyy’s personnal history, the man has many employees working at his house keeping it working, clean, ya know the vibe. They live on the premice, one has a kid who’s just a Joy to be around, all the employees just vibe with that lad, he’s just a born socialite you know? Belyy gets to meet the kid, and also hella vibes with him. And because human are influenced by their feelings, he gives the kid’s mum a bit of a preferencial treatment, in the tasks she fullfils and all, til he gives her an important-as mission, and then there’s an accident n mama dies, and now Belyy got guilt and there’s this kid who just Vibes. So naturally the move is to take the kid in, and play on how his vibes are just so clean, and raise him to be the Perfect Entertainer for guests, bam, its soft power propaganda, if everyone loves your now son’s vibes, they associate them with you too. And also that’s kind of a clean rep, the selfless man who adopted his employee’s son to not have him fall to the streets, how heartwarming. Not at all traumatising for the kid too I bet! But anyway now the lad is just the most charming young adult, mission accomplished. He’s always present at any reception, ready to work his people-pleasing magic, and then going back to a gigantic empty manor to wait for the next and curate the perfect vibes to meet the expectations of dad. On the plus side, he knows everyone, and those who don’t know him cannot wAIT to, he’s just got that aura ya know. People skills for miles, and the insider knowledge that comes with being the son of the CEO, all this hidden behind the personna of the fresh innocent bashful party lad. 

Dr.FEN (the pink guest)

Do not get mistaken by the title, he’s no doc, he will not diagnose you with anything, he just studied long enough to get the sexy title. Study in what? Haha. Nothing shady. Just toxicology. He’s a world reknown poison expert basically, that’s his main thing. Oh but don’t worry, of course studying substances that may kill people is only for finding out how to cure them from it of course. What brings him in this circle? Simple, Belyy may or may not have started to suffer some weird illness that no doctor has been able to find the source, let alone cure, of. Him and Dr.Fen had met previously on some event, cause some rich man also love flexing how smart they are and attending sciencey shit, and he was contacted as sort of a shot in the dark. The lad does know how to treat some things, maybe he can treat The Mysterious Unwellness, since no traditional doctor was able to. He knows science, he’s trustworthy, bam, you’re hired to work on My Case Exclusively. Thanks to this, Dr.Fen has access to the whole health history of Belyy and his family, to many mANY dangerous substances, and also has The Respect of the hoes at the party. He HAS a doctorate after all. Epitome of knowledge. And he’s a kind to people and he wears pink like dang how can you nOT pour your wHOLE trust in him. 

Sir MOREVITCH (the blue guest)

Youngest son of an affluent family, who used to be close the the Belyys. The two families fell slightly appart after the death of the previous head of the family on the Belyy side, as they do nOT vibe with the current one (well current, til the first night of the story ig). But, unbeknownst to all, one strong link had been kept, between the youngest of the Morevitch, who dislikes his family and wishes to emancipate himself from them while also assuring his depart will not throw him basically in the streets, and our beloved Sir Belyy, who also dislikes the Morevitches but loves to see the rebellious energy of the young one (and ya know, my enemy’s enemy’s my friend or however you say that). So Belyy’s basically offering tips and helping Morevitch plant himself safely out of his family’s grasp, but it’s all taking quite some time isn’t it, slow and steady is fine until your parents try to arrange a wedding to secure more political power, and suddenly it is all quite urgent that you escape that situation because No Thank You Parents I Do Not Want A Wife I’m Too Young And Also Huh <3 Stuff You Won’t Like Hearing For Sure <3. The people who know they’re working together also know that it’s a big point of argument between them, the difference in vision between “you have to go slow and steady to be safe” and “I have very limited time to get to that safety anyway so I gotta risk it” “hell no you cant i can’t follow through if we’re going that quick that’ll put me at risk and you’re family’s gonna send gunmen to take me down”. A mess, it’d be much quicker to just obtain a few million bucks out of nowhere and bolt for sure...

Mr.GANG (the orange guest)

Morevitch’s trusted assistant. He hears the concerns, he helps the secret businesses, he lies to the parents about the whereabouts, and mostly, he’s basically a budget spy. The lad got that talent where people just don’t notice him popping behind them and catching all their dirty laundry as they confess it to someone they trust, and he always manages to break into places, get the intel he was looking for, and escape, putting everything back into place as if no one was ever there (wonder where he got all those skills from damn!). But what he’s even better at is being sneaky not only to benefit his boss, but himself as well <3. If he can catch all the info in the world, go any places, nothing’s stopping him from playing double agent and also going behind Morevitch’s back. After all the assistant life isn’t the most glamourous and rewarding, who can blame him from going and using his talents to build his own little exit route, right? Everybody sort of knows he cannot be trusted, but also no one managed to really incriminate or stop him, and as much as he has tea on many people, no has it on him, but bet once found that would be heeeella juicy.

M.MOUTARDE (the yellow guest)(this one is straight up the name of the yellow player in the french edition of clue too when i say its my main vibe)

Moutarde was an influential celebrity. He had a big break acting in a movie that the whole country stanned so hard they basically turned the script into their national anthem (they would have if it was a true democracy where the people really decide), he was so handsome and elegant, everyone’s dream husband. And then the fame fiddled out because it’s how fame is, one moment you’re the sexiest dish on the table and the next someone brings in dessert and baam, its all about that fresh cake, and no one pays any mind to your delightful aroma anymore, you’ve gone cold, they had a bite, their interest is somewhere else. Belyy really admires his work though, and mostly finds his image fits with the brand of his company, therefore the two are working on a collaboration to make Moutarde a representative. This WOULD boost Moutarde’s reputation, for his ads would be displayed on every imaginable surface of the country, and it would also benefit the company cause being represented by thAT sexy motherfucker? clearly that’s a deal. The freshness of the partnership means Moutarde is a newcomer in the guests, a fresh face, with no reputation, no relationships, no unfair biases against him. He’s just the new handsome charismatic lad with a squeaky clean image. Emphasis on “image”. After all, no one really knows anything of his background, right?

Kun.LAWENDER (the purple guest)

Private investigator, very useful to be around at a party it’s almost like it was expected there’d be a body to investigate, he’s a very close associate of Belyy, as there’s nothing more important to business than investigating the rivals and finding dirt on them to make them fall through infamy. He’s not exactly the PI who goes look for justice to be served, he’s just here for cash bro. He’s got intel on everyone, and will only let it out if offered the right thing in return (money, or sometimes other pieces of very secret intel, trade is good). Wouldn’t advise letting him and Gang team up tbh but they probably wouldnt, as Lawender is really more of a lone wolf player, going on his own for himself. The one thing that negates his usefulness as a PI on an accidental crime of scene is that even if he knew the whole truth of the event he would not spit it out unless he benefitted from saying it. He sure is a polarising lad, but at the same time, an untouchable one, he’s too knowledgeable to be taken down. Rather than sneaky, he’s extremely observant, noticing the tiniest details and engraving them in his memory, ready to be linked up to other details to deduct the big picture. He’s the upfront tea gathered basically (as opposed to Gang’s shadow tea gathering if you will, they are similar forces but using opposite methods)(also one of em got a licence n the other does not hAH).

~~~~

Now the secrets, all of em have them. One of em at least got the secret of having KILLED Belyy that’s that. But that’s to be kept for later (for if i ever use this story for more than daydream material gfhjgh) bet you can imagine what some of em may be just out of Knowing what i do, from having seen the characters in other contexts, or just because you’re a genius and reading the character profiles immediatly lit up the bulbs in your head forming the perfect theory, props to you, mad genius.

Honestly my thoughts are just how lit of a game that would be, you get to pick one hoe (maybe sum are locked til u find their secrets for juicy purposes) and you do your invetigation using your character’s perks and disadvantages, and maybe there could even be Multiple scenarios and outcomes, to spice it up, give replay value, i just think it’d be a game id spend hours on. tryin to get the spicy details of everyone’s life. walking around n digging through a rich man’s stuff, witnessing the drAMA of people fighting cause they’re locked in with a murderer and that’s stressful ngl. That or a long ass show @ netflix wanna give me a show maybe? give me hella budget we’re making it animated cause im too cultured for live action. 

whatever i make of it though, i hope i can make this story Flourish, just so that i can lay down all those secret backstories i’ve written. i want the satisfaction of throwing out the craziest secret drama between character n seeing peeps loose their minds, it just is a tasty experience.

also i gotta say, i plug the hell out of Clue for an inspo but when i was building the basics of the story my mind immediatly went “oH MY GOD THE VIBES,, THE BACKSTABBING AND tEAMING UP and all,,, its The Genius, that one tv show where peeps have to do the wildest games that require strategy n they’re in that fancy set that looks like a rich ppl mansion oh god the vibes” so yeah, i rewatched the whole first two seasons cause they’re my faves and that had an impact if only minimal in the aesthetic.

Anyway hope that quick presentation gave you a lil taste of the story, and maybe,,,, got you curious,,, craving to learn more like you never did before (im exaggerating the only real question we all got is just “so who’s fuckin with whom then how many of yall secretly dating” this the real deal)

[blog-sliverofjade]

Hearth Fires 2: Sneaky Like a Cat

Pairing: Remi Denier x OFC

Summary:  Lorel Maddox just wants to live as a human, run her bakery in peace, and forget. Unfortunately, the alpha of the local leopard pack has very different ideas. Remi Denier doesn’t know what to make of the female Changeling who wants nothing to do with him or the RainFire pack. He does know that he has a driving need to protect her. Even if it’s from herself. While they’re embroiled in a battle of wills, there’s a war brewing on the horizon. The outside threat could not only destroy everything they hold dear, but tear apart the fragile new bonds of the Trinity Accord, plunging the world into bloodshed to rival the Territorial Wars of centuries past.  

Word count: 2466

Hearth Fires Masterlist

Beta read by the invaluable pandabearer

Remi entered a familiar code into the comm screen and sprawled out on the large cushions scattered around the main floor of his aerie.  Waiting for the call to connect, he cracked a longneck and took a swig.  Stomach rumbling, he wished he’d at least gotten a cupcake before scaring the piss out of the little baker.

He knew she didn’t intend any harm to the pack.  But sometimes what happened wasn’t what one intended, as he knew very well.  Just like he hadn’t intended to throw out that ultimatum. He’d wanted to get a sense of her and make the offer.  Then she’d turned him down and it was like his brain had switched off and his alpha hindbrain had taken over.

It wasn’t the first time he’d been turned down since he started building RainFire; it was, however, the first time a lone submissive female had said no.  Generally, ones like her didn’t go roaming for as long as she had. The feeling that something was amiss with her hadn’t left him, like an itch that he just couldn’t scratch.

“I’m flattered I’m your drunk dial,” Lucas Hunter said dryly, “but I have a mate.”

“I’d’ve to be drinkin’ bad hooch to be drunk dialin’ your laide tchew,” he snorted.  “And I’d hope it’d make me blind.”

Hunter snorted, then reached down out of view of the screen and picked up a little, black cub by the scruff of her neck.  Naya purred loudly enough that Remi could hear it and butted her forehead against Lucas’ face, even though her body continued to dangle limply in his grasp.

“You know better than that,” her father frowned at her, unfazed by the cute affection, and tapped her nose.  The responding mewl was adorable enough to pierce even the most jaded heart. “No, you can’t have a cookie, but you can say hi to Remi.”  He pointed to the screen and set her on his lap. A fluffy black tail rose high and curled at the end in greeting.

“Quoi se fais du mal, possede?”  His cat stopped its irritated pacing and chuffed in amusement at the pair of bright green eyes that now took up most of the screen as she leaned in to greet him.

“She’s been using my chair as a scratching post.”  Remi coughed to cover a laugh at the other man’s deadpan expression that barely hid his amusement.  At the recount of her misdeed, she flopped onto her back and put one paw over an eye as if to say “oops.”  Hunter had answered in his office at DarkRiver HQ. If he’d been at home, which had cushions instead of traditional furniture much like Remi’s own, his daughter would have sharpened her claws on a tree instead.  “Can you make it quick? I have a meeting in ten.”

Remi laid out the situation to Lucas, who listened without interruption.

“She says she didn’t know ‘bout the expansion.”  He spread his hands wide.

“You posted to Packnet?”  Hunter referred to the network utilized by Changelings all across the world.  Even loners used it, primarily to keep track of claimed territory to avoid accidentally trespassing.  A mistake meant death for a predatory Changeling.

“’Course I did,” Remi snapped in frustration.  Lucas let that one slide. “Damnedest thing is she says she’s never heard of it!”  He ran a hand through his shoulder-length hair. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Bullshit,” he snorted, then darted a glance at Naya, who’d climbed up to drape herself across his shoulders.  “You just don’t like your options.”

“Could you run a submissive off your lands?” he snarled.  Lucas gave a low warning growl to remind him that they were both alphas; his cub stopped kneading his shoulders and her ears swivelled forward, looking for the threat.  Remi had to rein his cat in before they got into a pissing match; it had been on edge since he stepped into the bakery. The animal, too, was disturbed with the mystery that was Lorelei Cain Maddox.

“Buy her land, her mortgage, and any other debt out from under her if she doesn’t play ball.  It doesn’t have to come to combat.” A ruthless solution from an alpha who was as accustomed to fighting in the boardroom as he was with teeth and claws.  The merciless alpha stroked his daughter’s back, lulling her back to her sleepy state. He looked like a damn villain when he did that in that chair.

“Mais.”  Blowing out a breath, he took another drink to give himself time to consider the suggestion.  He shouldn’t have made the offer at all if she made his hackles rise, not until he figured out why.  Now he had to deal with the fallout and any leverage would serve to protect the pack, even if he didn’t use it to force her hand.  “Might have to. She looked like she’d rather chew an arm off than listen to me.”

“I can’t blame her if you were your usual charming self.”  Remi flipped him the bird, but there was no heat in his accompanying glare.  Lucas huffed in laughter. “You can’t help those who don’t want to be helped, you need to focus on your own.  If she won’t play ball with you, she might with your enemies.”

“Ca me rapelle, there’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.  I’m forwarding you something.” He set his bottle down and fired off the email as he spoke.  “Several folks in town reported receiving this.”

“’Trinity’s Goal is Human Genocide’,” Lucas read the subject line with a snort.  “’We won’t be replaced, trying to take power, subjugate the human race…’ Yeah, we had something like this awhile back, so did StoneWater.  Do you know where it came from?”

“We got someone working to trace it.  I was wonderin’ if your people have time to look at it, might be tied to the one you mentioned.”  The older pack had resources that RainFire simply didn’t have yet and he wasn’t above asking for help to keep his pack safe.

“It might be the same group, but extremists tend to use the same catchphrases; it’s like they just swap out the nouns.  I recommend keeping your sentinels on alert.” Remi nodded. He’d already briefed those that hadn’t brought the situation to his attention, but if this was a larger threat then they needed to know that, too.

“We’ve got some friends in the city, I’ll ask them to keep their ears to the ground.”

“This might be an individual, but if it’s a cell working to sway public opinion your friends will probably hear of it first.  I’ll have my team see what they can find.” Lucas’ eyes narrowed, but that didn’t hide the teasing glint in his green eyes that looked so much like his cat’s.  “You know, the mentorship was only meant to last the first year.” While that year had passed nearly nine months ago, the two of them had kept in regular contact.

“You don’t have to answer my calls,” he shrugged and tucked a hand behind his head.  “I could always ring up Hawke. Say, you got his number?”  Hunter scowled at the mention of the SnowDancer alpha.

“Are you so hard up you’d ask a wolf for help?”

“I’m asking my Trinity representative for help with somethin’ that might be a bigger problem, but if you’re too busy…”

“Naya, say ‘adieu’ to Oncle Couillon .”  She waved her tail back and forth.

“Bye-bye, cher.”  Remi blew the cub a kiss.  “Donne la belle Sascha un bec pour moi.”  Before hanging up, Lucas gave him one last scowl for telling him to kiss his mate for the other alpha.

He pulled out his organizer and began to plot.  She might be stubborn, but he had an entire pack behind him and he wasn't afraid to use it.

At the sound of the front door opening, Lorel set down the cranberry coloured frosting she was piping onto rows of cupcakes.  She wiped her hands off on a damp white washcloth that was already smeared pink and red with previous uses.

Stopping in the archway that led to the front, she stifled a groan.  The customer who’d entered with her daughter was a changeling: a leopard, to be specific, and one of many who'd managed to wander into her shop over the past week.  Even if she didn’t have a note in her scent that matched an element of Denier’s, she obviously had to be a member of RainFire.  It seemed like she'd already met half the freaking pack, and, in the southern custom that she was rapidly coming to learn, a quick chat was at least half an hour long.

She could hardly refuse to serve the woman; not only was it illegal, but it would be hypocritical.  Besides, changelings were extremely loyal and prolific customers at their favourite restaurants due to their higher caloric requirements.  And not to mention it was probably unhealthy for her if she pissed off RainFire.

Somehow, she was sure the asshole was behind the parade of leopards in her bakery, even if she had no way of proving the suspicion.  She had seen some underhanded tactics in her time, but this latest was the lowest of the low.  Standing up straight, she braced herself.

A little girl in a lavender tutu dress toddled up to the display case like she’d found Nirvana.  Her dark hair was tied up in loose buns that bobbled with every step of her purple, glitter rainboots.  It was impossible not to smile at the sheer joy that lit up her face, which was marked with what looked like slashes from a set of claws, yet they lacked the pigmentation and texture of scars.  They appeared to be birthmarks, albeit pale instead of dark.

“Cookie, pease?”

Seriously, those big, guileless eyes should be registered as lethal weapons.

“What kind would you like?” Lorel asked after glancing at the adult with her to make sure it was ok.

“Dat one!”  A tiny finger pressed to the plas-glas pointed to a set of sugar cookies shaped and frosted to look like various types of leaves: green fading to brown, yellow to red, and whatever other combination had occurred to her at the time.  Lorel picked one of her favourites: a maple leaf with yellow at its centre, surrounded by orange, and turning to red at the edges. For the veins, she’d drawn a knife through the frosting to create lines of colour that bled outward through the gradations.

“Make it a dozen, please, and a dozen each of the caramel apples, the maple pecan cupcakes, and, ooh, pumpkin cheesecake snickerdoodles,” the woman said, her eyes lighting up with the last order.

She nearly did a double-take.  That was her entire stock of each of those items and over half of her seasonal items.  Not that she was about to complain. She wrapped the maple leaf in a napkin and handed it to the girl, experience telling her that it wouldn’t last enough to warrant packaging.

“Thank you!” she chirped and rose on her tiptoes to take the leaf.  The cookie was bigger than both of her hands. Settling back on her heels, she took a bite and exclaimed in delight, eyes going impossibly wide.  Lorel struggled to breathe past the ache in her chest.

Avoiding eye contact with both of them, she quickly boxed up the goodies.  The sooner she got them out of there, the sooner she could breathe easy again.  It didn’t help that her cat was currently clawing at her with a fierce need to play with the cub.   Kid , she mentally reprimanded herself.

“Is something wrong?”  Lorel stared at the other woman for a heartbeat before she realized she’d been shaking her head while silently rebuking herself.

“Oh no.”  She donned a smile like well-worn armour.  “Just talking to myself. Thinking about how many to bake tomorrow, you know?”

The customer nodded and hummed in agreement, but something in her eyes said she wasn’t buying it.  

“It must be hard to move to a town where you don’t know much of anyone and take over your aunt’s business.”

Lorel’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t trust sympathy from a cat, not even one with a child that appeared to be loved and treasured.

“Small towns, everybody knows everybody.”  The other woman shrugged off the suspicion cast her way.  “By the way, I’m Tien and this is JoJo.” JoJo was currently spinning in the sun streaming through the window and watching her skirt flare out.  The glitter in her boots flashed brilliantly in the light. With each bite of her cookie, she hummed a happy little tune.

The pang in her chest was back.

“Lorel,” she flashed her customer service smile, the small one when she wasn’t really feeling like smiling.  Luckily, she was ringing up the sale and therefore had an excuse to avoid anything more than briefly flicking her eyes at Tien.  Then she gave the total and they went through the ritual of the transaction.

“Here’s my number.”  Tien jotted down the code on a slip of paper she’d found in her purse.  “Let me know if you ever want to talk or if you ever want to… I’d say go for coffee, but,” she broke off with a laugh and gestured at the espresso machine.  “Do lunch or something.”

She couldn’t decline without being rude, and being rude in a small southern town would spell disaster for her business.  And the other woman’s smile was so broad and genuine that she smiled back despite herself.

“Thank you.”  Lorel took the scrap and slipped it into her apron; today it was yellow and edged at the bottom with lace.  The lavender flowers on it matched the full-skirted dress she wore.

“Come on, kidlet.”  Tien herded the girl towards the exit.

“Bye!”  JoJo waved and skipped out the door, offering a bite of her cookie to her mom, who accepted with an “mmm!”

Lorel sank back against the counter and thrust her hands into her pockets, idly fingering the contact number.  How could they be so happy and obviously well-adjusted in a pack with an autocratic asshole like Denier? Although, was there really any other kind of alpha?  In her admittedly limited experience, the answer was no.

And yet neither of them had, had the hollow, guarded eyes that were the result of abuse from those in power.  While the rest of the pack seemed friendly enough, no doubt the carrot to Denier’s stick, it wasn’t something she was used to.

She crumpled up the paper and tossed it in the recycler.

No matter how honest she appeared to be, Tien was still Denier’s pawn.

Notes:   Remi isn’t canonically Cajun, it’s left ambiguous (“with a name like that sounds like he should be hunting gators in a swamp somewhere”).  But I like the idea that he can play the dumb swamprat, or the suave southern gentleman, or a shark in the boardroom because he learned how to dominate whatever room he was in and that he had to learn to blend in (*foreshadowing of my personal HC’s).

I'm a bit of a language nerd. The evolution of Louisiana French is interesting because it basically takes Acadian French and drifts it, then splices in some Choctaw.  And it appears to share some quirks and sentence structure with French Creoles. I'm not sure if that's due to sharing a "parent" language (I don't know enough to say) or due to cultural exchange in the region.

The Cajun French in this chapter comes from published dictionaries and articles written by native speakers, then cross-referenced (or simply plugged into google to see if similar results pop up). Then if I need to conjugate something or figure out grammar, I'll run it by my spouse who speaks Quebecois (which evolved from Acadian, too), but isn’t French Canadian.  So if it’s atrocious, my apologies and please let me know.

Laide tchew - ugly ass

Quoi se fais du mal - what trouble have you been getting into?

Possede - literally possessed one, a term for a mischievous child

Mais - Literally French for “but.” According to kenwheatonwrites.com it “means “well then,” and is used to delight, shock, exasperation — any number of things. It’s almost like “dude” or “fuck” in its ability to morph into anything depending on situation, tone, delivery and other factors.”

Ca me rapelle - That reminds me

Oncle - uncle

Couillon - idiot, imbecile, funny person. In standard French, it means dickhead or bastard. I like to think that Lucas knows standard French, which helps him to understand Remi when he's slipping into his native patois. ;)

Donne la belle Sascha un bec pour moi - give the lovely Sascha a kiss for me

Fun fact: "bec" can mean "kiss" and "beak." So I'll tell my pet birds "bec la bec!" I'm easily entertained, what can I say?

[costellos]

LOL A 401K IM DEAD but honestly...... tru

all that tax stuff, retirement plans.... nanami’s got it covered. and then there’s gojo, committing tax fraud 🤧 i’d compare gojo to salt as a seasoning but that’s kinda mean, he does have some flavor. like, sugar probably suits him better?? sweet, can be addicting, but bad for you if have too much of it 🙈 AND THEN NANAMI. man’s the whole spice rack, he wouldn’t have it anything less since he loves food so much 😤 he is, as we say, umami personified 🤌

yeah, it’s unfortunate lmfao but oh well. i do occasionally have them in a smoothie though, like you said!

alsjfhsha it’s def time consuming.... like i’d be sitting down w my family and when i’m finally done picking it all out, they’ve finished eating welp 😭 and yeah, the rational part of me knows that, but i’m that person someone has to go up the service worker for and be like “excuse me she asked for no pickles” (except i didn’t 🙈) i’m much better in restaurants bc the language barrier isn’t as intimidating so i will tell them to leave out an ingredient if it’s something i can’t easily take out

mmmmm i can see that! he’d be the guy who’d eat pizza with a fork and knife wouldn’t he lol. and dab all the excess oil off w a napkin. he probably only goes to the Legit pizza places too haha but i think if he likes you enough he can be convinced to eat almost anywhere

ofc!! ask games are more fun if it goes both ways 😌 and ooooo tsumu! interesting...... 👀 those are honestly such good date ideas w a guy like atsumu! that’d rly be smth he’d enjoy and ngl the moment i read ‘something physical’ i immediately imagined y’all racing LMAO. he’s a prime example of how competition can be good for you w the right person, so i can see you filling in the space osamu left after he decided to focus more on his food aspirations. like imagine making cute lil bets w him and the loser having to do what the winner wanted hehe. omg a double date w the miya twins would be sm fun tho??? from my impression of you so far, i definitely trust you to keep tsumu in line lmfao so catch me there. me and osamu are the ones spectating and judging your guys’ competitions and cheering you on to beat atsumu like we’re olympic commentators or smth LOL

aaaaa i’m honestly p shy but if anything can get me to come off anon, it’d be nanamin 😂 (it’s like we’re todo and yuji bonding over their shared type but w nanami skdjfjsjsjs) let me know if you prefer to keep it here or on discord and i’ll give you my account, whichever platform you like better! also congrats on 1k! much deserved!! 🎉

cut for length!

A;LDSKJ GOJO WOULD COMMIT TAX FRAUD. lmao salt is a lil mean!! sugar is more fitting <3 sugar is also used for more fun foods, and I feel like it matches him bc of his sweet tooth. but Nanami........ o lawd. definitely the whole spice rack yes. 100% agree. pls I would use him in everything. wait was that a weird thing to say?

ah I totally understand! well, u got this friend. the next time u go out for Mexican food, I’ll be there cheering for u in spirit!!

and yes.... ugh... I don’t think he’s particularly picky, he’ll try anything. he just doesn’t like foods that are excessive, if that makes sense? like what you were saying with the grease. I think he’s more the type to like subtle flavors. an obnoxious meat lover’s pizza from The Hut would be a no go, but he’s down for a, quote, Legit Pizza Place. the kind of Italian restaurant that’s authentic! but let’s admit it, by that point it wouldn’t even technically be “pizza.” authenticity comes with a price :’)

ty friend you’re far too kind 🥺 AND PLS YOU’RE MAKING ME BLUSH OVER MY LAPTOP HHHHHHH. I would love nothing more than to fill the Osamu-shaped hole in his heart once they both go into their separate careers. and god..... don’t encourage him. or me. I would definitely make bets w him. and I would win. but thank you sweet anon, I would do my best to keep him from annoying the shit out of you!! it would be an honor to have you and Osamu comment on our tomfoolery. 👉👈

MY GOD I WAS ABOUT TO KEYBOARD MASH AGAIN. we’re definitely Todo and Yuji.... u like Nanami and so now I’m obligated to imagine a whole life we coulda had together in high school together. even tho I graduated five years ago. and I’m assuming you did some time ago too since you mentioned you’re old...... lordt. anyway! thank you for the congrats!! I would love to discuss more headcanons and such w you over Discord! dm me and I’ll add you so that we can sob over Nanami’s absence in the anime <33

nanamin date anon said: me, rewatching eps 9-13 on replay until the new episode comes out: hahaha i love all the jjk characters equally! nanamin and *looks at smudged writing on hand* the extras

lol i love them all rly, it’s just super refreshing to have an adult like nanami in a shounen

haha yeah, i’m definitely glad i’m not the oldest (bc that’s way too much responsibility for me, idk how they do it) so being player 2 as a younger sibling isn’t too bad, especially since it’s the story that i’m usually more interested in rather than the gameplay itself. i don’t have to worry about remembering which buttons to press in a fight when i can just watch the plot play out lol. (it’s definitely a good game, i just suck at the controls 😅 my brother let me play a bit and i couldn’t get the web swinging down i was struggling so bad aslfjjfsjak) what sort of games are you into? 👀

even if it’s boring to some ppl, watching is a good way to experience the game for yourself as well, esp if it’s a single player game! ofc i do tend to prefer multiplayer games, but it’s not too dissimilar to watching someone play a sport tbh. AND NO KENMA IM PRO-SIDEQUEST LIVE OUT YOUR COMPLETIONIST DREAMS. if we gotta fetch that dude a super rare item to unlock his backstory we MUST do it ok

YEAH! mikorin is also voiced by noya’s va! it’s honestly a shame gsnk didn’t get a second season, it’s so good 😔

me: lol does that mean kuroo’s your tomoda

kenma: ok this date is over

LMFAOOOOO not my fault the popular choices are the ones that get you the good end 😤 and it’s all good, i’m also guilty of replaying to see how the other choices impact the story haha. if there’s no save system tho, i’d make him switch out w me every time we replay bc i’d zone out at all the repeat stuff (bless games that have a skip option 🙏)

UGH TELL ME ABOUT IT!!! ok so I love the other charas too but.... Nanami’s so good. so good. iono about you, anon, but I went back and rewatched his episodes from the dub and it made me Feel Things. and I agree, it is refreshing to see an adult like him in shounen. esp since he treats the kids like kids. and he makes it clear that their being kids is never a bad thing. I will reiterate: he’s so good.

ahhh friend that’s so nice!. your brother sounds really chill. plus it sounds like a good balance: you get to watch the story, and he gets to dick around!! win-win. and as for my fav games, I’m up for anything! I try to avoid co-op games like Overwatch bc I get too competitive and I’m a sore loser lmao (but they are fun!). the last games I played were the Last of Us 2 and Persona 5, two very different games, but stuff that’s a good time nonetheless. tbh as long as I can immerse myself in the story and there’s tons to explore, I’m down. what about you?? you’d kind of mentioned otome games and Animal Crossing, but I’m curious!

hm. interesting. that’s a nice way to look at it. I guess if it’s a really good game, it’s no different from an interactive movie! also Kenma would love that omg you’re going to save so many villages in the rpgs he plays w you.... gotta max out EVERYTHING. every side quest! every mundane task!! collect literally every feather!!! but I feel like he would pass the time by making idle conversation. like some dumb shit Lev had mentioned earlier that day. such a nice way to unwind at the end of the day, shit talking Lev w his fav person 😌

anyway! going back to completionist stuff: Kenma would have such a blast going back and replaying games w you! and yes bless games w a skip option hhh. thankfully he’d remember all your previous choices together, so he can help navigate where to go next. he has no qualms handing the controller over, I think he’d love to curl up next to you and analyze how you play! but I also feel like he’d be giving unwarranted suggestions....... thanks, Kenma.

also, about Mikorin’s va: WHAT. OH MY GOD. so many things to learn..... pls. indulge me w your trivia.