#it's all fine and good that rachel is manning the desk

[barrowsteeth]

*

[adrienneleclerc]

Don Refri

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Y/N has been the police records clerk for a few months. He’s known as Detective Grumpy to everyone in the district, but she’s the only one who calls him Don Refri. Walter gets jealous when there is a new detective around.

A/N: Walter Marshall is probably my favorite Henry Cavill character to read about, I need more content of him. I’ve also been watching a telenovela and the way Alexander has been acting with Lola when they were fighting, I thought “what if Walter was like this?” So here it is. Also, LATIN PRESENTATION FOR HENRY CAVILL!

For all intent and purposes, this one shot is very humorous, sort of like a sitcom, Walter doesn’t follow canon AT ALL, but I did try to “research” what happens in a precinct.

Y/N was entering the district with a thermos in hand, all bundled up.

“Ay, hace un pinche frío, why the fuck did I move to Minnesota, it’s so cold.” Y/N said as she took off her coat and Matthew started laughing. “Don’t laugh like that, I’m not meant for cold weather.”

“Just start working on something before detective grumpy comes in and starts yelling.” Matthew said, taking Y/N’s coat, folding it.

“I’m not scared of Don Refri, but I will start working because i have to make the case files of whatever criminal is out now so Don Refri and detective Dickerman Can catch them as soon as possible.” Y/N said and she started sipping hot chocolate from her thermos. As she was working, Walter came in. “Good morning, Don Refri.” Walter rolled his eyes at her.

“Morning, Y/N.” Walter mumbled and went to his office. Matthew, Glasgow, and Rachel stared at Y/N. Y/N looked at them.

“What?” Y/N asked.

“You call him Don Refri to his face and he does nothing, but we almost get written up when he overheard us reference him as Detective Grumpy. How is that possible?” Glasgow asked.

“I don’t know, but I’m happy about it, not gonna lie.” Y/N said. She began working on the computer, smiling to herself. No one but her bestie knows about her crush on the grumpy detective.

“I think he has a soft spot for you, what do you think?” Rachel asks.

“Maybe he does.” Y/N replied.

A few moments after creating the case files, Y/N heard Walter yell “Fuck” from his office.

“I wonder what’s got him worked up. Y/N, go check on him.” Matthew said.

“Fine. Now I know how my brother felt when I sent him to ask our mom something.” Y/N said. She got up from her desk and went to Walter’s office, saw that he threw his stuff off his desk and is now running his hand through his hair, exasperated.

“What do you want, Y/N?” Walter asked.

“What’s got you in such a bad mood, Don Refri?” Y/N asked.

“First; you keep calling me that.” Walter started and Y/N rolled her eyes.

“I told you, start being open about your feelings and then I’ll stop calling you don refri, Don Refri.” Y/N replied and Walter rolled his eyes. “What’s the other thing that got you in a bad mood?”

“They’re transferring another detective here.” Walter massaged his temples.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Y/N asked.

“Not if the detective is a fucking pain in the ass. He hits on anything with skirt.” Walter commented. “He has a womanizer, player kind of reputation and I don’t want that guy in this district.”

“Why is he getting transferred?” Y/N asked.

“Don’t know. Hopefully I have time before this fucker gets here.” Walter starts picking up the stuff he threw and Y/N helped him until they heard a voice.

“Isn’t anyone going to welcome me?” The man sounded arrogant.

“Too late. Let’s go.” Walter said, after putting everything back on his desk and him and Y/N went to the front of the district, Y/N went back to her desk. “Team, this is…what’s your name again?” Walter asked.

“Ha ha, nice to see you haven’t changed. I’m Detective Tyler Delgado, I just transferred here.” Tyler introduced himself.

“Well this is my team, Matthew and Glasgow are technicians, Rachel is a profiler and psychologist, and Y/N here is our records clerk.” Walter introduced them to Tyler.

“Nice to meet you guys.” Tyler said, “Especially you.” Tyler said, looking at Y/N before winking.

“Well, Let’s get back to work.” Walter said, leaving with Tyler.

The day went on Walter and Y/N were the only ones left in the district, she was finishing up the police logs.

“Ugh, i can’t wait to sleep.” Y/N said.

“What did you think of Delgado?” Walter asked.

“I Don’t have much of an opinion of him, he doesn’t look like a fuckboy though.” Y/N commented.

“I never said he was a fuckboy, I said he had the reputation of one, big difference.” Walter said.

“Yeah, whatever. If you’re worried about Rachel going out with him, I don’t think she would fall for any of his ‘tricks’ because of her psychology background.” Y/N commented as she took a sip of soda.

“It’s not Rachel I’m worried about.” Walter replied, looking at Y/N. Y/N looked at Walter with wide eyes and she put her soda down.

“Me? You’re worried about me? Why are you worried?” Y/N asked, please say it’s because you like me she said in her head.

“I just don’t want you to get taken advantage of.” Walter said.

“Do I look easy to you, Walter? I know I’m a few years younger than you but I’m not naive, I know when someone has other intentions, there’s a reason why I wanted to be an FBI profiler.” Y/N said.

“I’m just saying, I saw you and Delgado flirting when he was giving you some files.” Walter said.

“I was being friendly! Por Dios, uno ya no puede ser amable o que?” Y/N said, crossing her arms.

“What does that mean?” Walter asked.

“It means I can’t be nice to someone without being accused of trying to sleep with them.” Y/N said in a huff, packing her bag.

“When did I accuse you that?” Walter asked while raising his voice.

“It doesn’t matter, don refri, I finished, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Y/N said and she left without kissing Walter on the cheek or hugging him.

The next day, Walter was running late because he was talking to Angie about Faye. When he entered the district, he saw Y/N and Tyler talking, as he got closer, he heard part of their conversation.

“It’s a date, I’ll pick you up tonight at 8.” Tyler said, winking at Y/N and walked away. Y/N smiled slightly until she heard Walter.

“What was that about?” Walter asked behind Y/N, scaring her and she put her hand in her chest.

“No me asustes así!” Y/N exclaimed as she hit his arm. Of course it didn’t hurt since Walter works out a lot, but he still winces because that’s how he is with Y/N.

“You’re going out with Delgado? After telling me I shouldn’t worry about you? Are you kidding me, Y/N?” Walter questioned.

“Sabes algo, Don Refri? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were jealous.” Y/N said. Hold up, is he jealous? That HAS to mean he likes me, oh please don’t be such a don refri and tell me you like me, PLEASE! Y/N thought to herself

“I’m looking out for you just like I would look out for Faye and Rachel, I am protective over the women who are close to me, especially with this job. I’ll talk to you later.” Walter said and walked away.

Y/N sat at her desk, very confused over what just happened with the grumpy detective.

A week went by and Walter observed Y/N and Tyler. Whenever they would be together during their lunch break or just together in general, Walter scowled. But one day he was walking by Tyler’s office and he heard something suspicious.

“I’m still at work…yes, I’m going to be late again…I’m sorry, the captain is tougher than at the last precinct…I’ll see you at home, love you, baby.” And Tyler hung up the phone. Walter walked in his office.

“Who were you on the phone with, Delgado?” Walter asked.

“My niece, it’s her birthday today.” Tyler lied, Walter could tell. This wasn’t the first time Walter heard a suspicious phone call like this but it’s the first he confronted Tyler.

“Well then, see you later.” Walter said as he walked out of Tyler’s office. He grabbed his lunch from the fridge, heated it up, and walked back to his office where he would do a background check on Tyler Delgado. “I’m not jealous, Y/N is like a sister to me, I just want to make sure she’s safe.” Walter said to himself as he was checking all the information that he managed to pull up about Tyler.

For what seemed like an eternity to Walter, he found out that Tyler Delgado is married! He took a photo of what he found on the computer, he went into the break room to look for Y/N and he found Tyler leaning in to kiss Y/N so he did what any man would do when they see a married man try to kiss their crush, I mean, their “friend”, and punch them in the face. Walter punched Tyler so hard that Tyler got knocked out and was on the floor, out cold.

Y/N was in shock. “Are you insane?!? Que te pasa?!?” Y/N yelled. “You killed him, you fucking killed him.”

“Oh please, how am i going to kill a man with a single punch, Y/N? Seriously, think.” Walter said.

“Well I don’t know, you work out a lot, you clearly have a lot more muscle than Tyler, you probably killed him.” Y/N said.

“You look at my muscles a lot?” Walter said with a little smirk.

“Don’t change the subject.” Y/N said firmly. Rachel was entering the break room with a box,

“Hey, Matthew brought doughnuts, you guys want some? What the fuck happened here?” Rachel asked when she saw Tyler on the floor and she place the box on the table, closing the break room door.

“Oh well what happened was Don Refri here came in and just punched Tyler for no fucking reason. You’re a psychologist, is this an act of jealousy?” Y/N asked.

“First of all, it wasn’t for no fucking reason, he’s scum, did you know that he’s married?” Walter yelled.

“What?” Both Y/N and Rachel asked,

“Yeah, He’s married, and He’s been married for 4 years.” Walter said

“Ugh, stop lying, Don Refri, and just admit that killed him because you’re jealous and that’s it!” Y/N yelled.

“Jealous? You think I’m jealous, really? Of course I’m not jealous.” Walter said, stepping closer to Y/N, resulting in getting closer to Tyler’s unconscious body.

“Careful, you’re gonna kill him again.” Y/N said.

“How am I gonna kill him again if he’s already dead?” Walter teased Y/N.

“Well, He’s not dead, he’s still breathing.” Rachel said, looking a Tyler, seeing his chest rise and fall.

“Whatever, Rachel, why would you think I’m jealous? Do you really think I’m jealous, Y/N? Please.” Walter asked.

“Mm hmm, sure, and your fits just has a mind of its own? Ah! I cant even speak, I’m so mad, your fist, fist!” Y/N shouted the last part of her sentence.

“I can’t understand what you’re trying to say, speak clearly.” Walter said in a fed up tone.

“I am speaking clearly! Fist, fist, fist! You know what? Say whatever the hell you want, to me, this was a crime of passion, you can’t tell me different.” Y/N said and Rachel just observed their argument while eating a doughnut and drinking her coffee thinking to herself that these two people totally love each other, are at the very least shave feelings for each other.

“Y/N, you can’t possibly be acting this way?” Walter questioned.

“Acting what way, hm?” Y/N asked.

“Like this!” Walter said, gesturing to her with his hands. That’s when Tyler started to come to and he sat up.

“What happened?” Tyler said groggily.

“Shut up!” Walter said, punching him AGAIN. Rachel’s eyes were wide as plates, and so were Y/N’s.

“What’s wrong with you?!?” Both women yelled.

“What? I Don’t like being interrupted while I’m speaking.” Walter stated

“Oh my god, You’re crazy, i need to get out of here.” Y/N said. She left the break room with Walter following her. Walter grabbed her wrist and they walked to an empty interrogation room. “What are you doing, Don Refri?”

“Fuck it.” Walter whispered before kissing Y/N passionately in the interrogation room, only lasting when they were out of breath. Y/N pulled away first.

“What was that, Walter?” Y/N asked. The first time she called him by his first name.

“You wanted me to admit I was jealous, right? Well, here I am admitting that I was jealous of you and Tyler. But i am not lying about him having a wife, I did a background check on him before knocking him out, look.” Walter said, showing Y/N his phone. Y/N grabbed his phone, seeing it was true. “I’ve had feelings for you since you started working here but I am very bad of expressing my feelings, as you point out to me daily.” Walter admitted.

“I have liked you since I started working here too. Does this mean we’re together now?” Y/N asked. Walter chuckled, taking Y/N’s hands in his.

“It means I’m going to take you on a date after our shift is over. Hopefully Tyler doesn’t report me.” Walter said and Y/N laughed.

“You’re probably going to be suspended but you can worry about that later, i have reports to write up.” Y/N said and Walter opened the door for her so they could leave the interrogation room. The first time since becoming a detective, Walter had a smile on his face. It was small, but it was there.

The End

Thank you for reading my very first Walter Marshall fanfic, hope you liked it

[galactic-academia]

Dancing in the dark

Rating: G

Category: F/M

Fandom: Justified

Relationship: Raylan Givens x F!Reader

Tags: language, angst, pining, very, very lightly implied age gap (Raylan was a newbie long before the reader became a Marshal), pining, Tim and Rachel are the best, Raylan is kind of an asshole, oblivious Raylan.

Words count: 2,5K

Summary: Raylan hurt your feelings (in a stupid, stupid way). No happy ending.

Notes: There, enjoy this piece of fanfiction I totally didn't write out of spite and to cope with my own feelings 🙃 I'm not a native, please forgive my mistakes. Title from Bruce Springsteen "Dancing in the dark", obviously.

Masterpost | Ask | Guidelines | Timothy Olyphant Masterlist

"Hi there!"

You smile and feel stupid as Rachel greets you before sitting at her desk. You're so obvious it hurts.

"You ok?"

She seems genuinely worried about you. Rachel's tough, but, deep down, she's a sweetheart.

"Yup, just fine", you try another smile, one you know won't reach your eyes and make you look even more awkward, it's that even possible, "What about you?"

"She's lying", yes, deep down, Rachel is a sweetheart, but, on the surface, she is pretty insufferabe, just like all the other Marshals; maybe that's a sine qua non condition to get enrolled in the Services, "Gutterson, why is she lying?"

Wearifully tearing his eyes away from his computer screen, Tim sights and mutters "Just let it go, Brooks, alright?", before going back to what he's reading.

Tim was there, yesterday, he witnessed the whole debacle and he didn't even laugh. You love him for it.

Rachel is taking a big inspiration before - no doubt about this - pushing to know what happened in her absence when he enters the bullpen.

"Hi."

He's barely audible. For a man of his stature and a nasty little shit like him, it never stops surprising you.

Rachel looks at you as you don't smile. You don't even answer.

As she's turning to Raylan, ready to chew his head off without preamble, Tim steps in, without looking away from his screen this time, "Don't".

Rachel stays quiet, this is no fun if neither Tim, nor you are ready to harrass Raylan about whatever he did to piss you off. And if you don't want to laugh it off, it must be pretty bad.

It's not. It's so stupid it's embarrassing. And you're not pissed off. You're sad.

You're definitely not Marshal's material. Too kind. Too sweet. Too soft. But you do the job and you do it well. You're a little ray of sunshine, always smiling, babbling, putting on silly voices and making faces to make your coworkers laugh. It works. You know Chief Mullen would like it better if you were more serious, but you can't help it. With all the shit you have to put with everyday, if you don't blow off some steam from time to time, you're going to get crazy. And you know "serious" and "fun" are no opposite. You're the spoonful of sugar. You try to. And most of your coworkers likes you for it.

And then, there is Raylan, who doesn't give a shit. Except for the outlaws he tracks, Raylan doesn't give a shit about anything.

When you arrived in Harlan's Office, you first thought he was especially reserved with you because you were the newbie, and because your sweet dispositions maybe unsettled him a little. And maybe you were right, for he never was mean to you, quite the contrary. But you never managed to befriend him either. You were so impressed, so... enamored with whatever he did and said that you never could breach his shell, while you were very good friend with Tim and Rachel, and even something like a daughter to Chief Mullen.

This lack of proximity, of intimacy, it was eating you alive. All the acts of service you trip over yourself to offer him went unseen. All the little attentions you try to give him went either disregarded or kindly rejected. But you would have put yourself on fire to keep him warm. God...

Until one day, out of the blue, he did something sweet. something totally irrelevant. As the newbie, you were tasked with labelling the sealed proofs. It was no mystery, even an perfect moron could have done it, but it was tedious. You discovered that Raylan had had to do that job long before you and jumped on the occasion to have little conversations about it. Mostly about how a pain in the ass it was to wait for the machine to painfully engrave what you had typed out.

"Sweetie" he had said, "You shoulda' seen the fuckin' device I had to work with. Believe me or not, but the machine I used was even more tedious than yours."

Delighted, you had jumped on the occasion and asked more details about it, which he had willingly unveiled. As tiny and fragile as it was, it still was a bond. And when, at the end of the week, you had found the machine he used to engrave with just next to "yours", butterflies had bursted into your stomach. He had thought about you. He had thought about you, searched for the machine, moved it to put it next to the one you use and just... Waited for you to discover it. And it has absolutely no meaning, it held zero interest, but you rushed to his desk to thank him all the same. Since this day, you had convinced yourself Raylan somewhat liked you, in his own way. Why would he have showed you his old machine, otherwise?

But you were wrong. Raylan just... Doesn't care.

You manage to keep your eyes down for most of the morning, quietly typing away at your computer. Contrary to all of your coworkers, you have no problem with reports; so you agreed to review all of the ones Chief Mullen threws your way before someone hits the "send" button. You can do that all day, all week if you have to. The best strategy to avoid having to interact with Raylan is simple: just wait for him to leave in search of some action. Once he cleared the office, you can go about your own business in peace. But as Chief Mullen opens the glass door of his office to bark something to another Marshal in the bullpen, you instincively raise your head to see what the ruckus is about and you meet Raylan's gaze. He truly has the most entrancing eyes you ever saw. Before knowing him, you used to roll your eyes when you read about a character fussing other how deep and beautiful someone's eyes were, until you met Raylan and his gaze pinned you down. Until you found yourself staring into his eyes and smiling while he did the same. Until you found that, just when he's about to start some stupid shit, his eyes sort of gleams. You can't explain it, but you always know when he's up to no good before everyone.

Upon meeting his gaze, you force yourself to stay put. No smile. No tears. Then you go back to your screen. A few seconds later, you look again to see if he seems upset, but he's unfazed; annoyed with whatever he's working on, if anything. You can pout to your heart content, Raylan won't - ever - ask you what your problem is. He doesn't care.

You don't know Raylan very well; you really barely know him, to say the truth, but still enough to know he won't stay seated at his desk all morning. The man couldn't stay put, even if he wanted to. You don't have to wait for too long before his phone starts ringing and he's out the door in a heartbeat. Keeping your gaze focused on what you're working on is a true trial - no catching his eyes as he passes you by, no big smile, no little joke which always, always manages to make him laugh - but you pull it off. It seems deeply stupid, but avoiding his gaze as much as you can is very important. He could wink at you, and, by now - even if he can prove to be a true dumbass - you're almost sure he caught throwing you a wink probably is the easiest way to make you melt. Just like a goddamn schoolgirl, it makes you blush and fucking giggle, and smile to the void for the rest of the day... Hell, it's been so long since the last wink you got, you can't even remember when it was.

"So", Rachel starts once more when she's sure Raylan is out of the building and won't come back in the middle of the conversation, "What the fuck happened here?"

For the nth time that morning, Gutterson sighs, "Our coworker, here, is discovering how much Givens can be an asshole without meaning to; that's it."

"Well, that's old news, ain't it?"

"Not for her"

Brooks turns towards you, determined to set it clear; "So, what did he do, this time?"

But you definitely don't want to talk about it. This is so childish, so pathetic... You can feel the ball sitting in your sternum growing heavier each time you try to turn it into words. So Tim - hoping to get on with his goddamn report before the end of the day or before his sanity runs out, whatever comes first - takes the matter in his own hands.

"Remember the cinnamon rolls she baked that week-end?"

"Uhuh, they were delicious."

You smile to Rachel, happy that your little treats brang some joy into your office.

"Yeah, well, Raylan declines to even taste them."

Gutterson says it matter of factly. Almost sternly, like some tough truth everybody needs to take on. But Brook's loud reaction brings you some validation, "What?!"

"She went to him with the fluffiest pastry she had and, without even looking at them, he said 'no thanks' and went back to his business."

Tears come instantly to your eyes. Yes. Your crush declined to taste the treats you brang to the office and it made you sad to the point of crying; of still crying about it a whole day after the incident. Pathetic.

Eyes so round it would be comical if you didn't feel like shit, Rachel, with the hope to find some believable excuse to Givens' behavior - not to absolve him (God above, certainly not), but to soothe you - cautiously asks: "Did you tell him this was for your birthday?"

"Yes..." But he probably didn't even listen.

Rachel is fed up, now; her arms crossed on her chest and blowing air trough her nose.

"Goddamn it, girl... Why did you have to choose this moron, uh?"

"Didn't choose him."

"No, you were lightstrucked, right?", she scoffs; opening her arms wide and looking to the sky, "You saw him and you knew. I know he looks so good he could be a chippendale, but seriously-"

Rachel cuts herself in the middle of her rambling when she beholds you sob a laugh. She's right, Raylan is so, so pretty. It's not what lured you in, though. Nope. But that quiet confidence, that experience, all that knowledge coupled to that charming, disarming nonchalance... The bad temper and will for what's right are fucking sexy too. And, yes, those soulful eyes paired to that lightening smile are a true sight to behold, saying otherwise would be a lie. The imagery of the chippendale is hilarious, though; you're sure women would pay a pretty penny to look at Raylan disrobing himself, but you wouldn't. You want him to want it. You don't want a night, or a few of them, you want it all. And you know he can't give you what you want. Meh. Doesn't sound so hilarious, in the end.

You smile to Rachel, tired and wry. "Nonsense, all of it. I feel like I'm fifteen again and I hate every seconds of it, could we go back to work?"

She seems to get the memo, but not Tim.

"You should keep on givin' him the cold shoulder", he says, his brows furrowed.

"What?", you try to play it down, "Aw, please, we're not in the kindergarten anymore-"

"Come on", he insists, "You didn't even greet him back! Stop tripping over yourself to try and please him, let him mind his own business. Run away from him, and he will chase after you."

Now, you're laughing in disblief; "How in Hell can you think such a stupid plan could work?!"

"Not so stupid", of course, Rachel is going to side with Tim on this one, "If you stop being your... sugar-sweet self to him, he could scratch his stupid head and ask himself why".

You don't believe it, not even for an instant, but what other option do you have? You can do that, or you can just let it go.

You definitely should let it go.

"You know... You should keep on trying." You look at Rachel like she sprouts a second head. You would never have bet on such a piece of advice coming out of her mouth. "If you feel like it", she adds as a second thought.

"You never can tell", Tim sums up as he goes back to his own report.

You could ask to be relocated in another office, you could ignore that coworker you could easily work with without having to talk to more than once every other week, or you could simply grow up and stop all that shit altogether. But you don't want to. You want your stomach to flip when Raylans enters the room, the warmth and the butterflies, the mad blush and the feeling of your heart racing in your chest. So you decide to follow your friends' advice: no more sugar for Raylan Givens.

Ah!

A few hours later, you're tasked to tell him that someone up the ladder forgot to tell him he will have to transfer a dangerous inmate all by himself. You do it sternly, but not enough to hide your indignation about the situation from him, it seems, since it makes him laugh and just tells you everything will be alright. And you smile.

And when he almost rams into you, as he's rushing without looking where he steps and you're daydreaming and not paying attention to your surroundings, he stops a hair away from you, surprised to find you there. And you smile.

And when you have to discuss the problems in the file about the coming transfer of the dangerous inmate, he cracks jokes to you, and he laughs, throwing that 20 000 watts smile right into your face and goddamn it... How could you not laugh with him? In what parallel universe are you supposed to restist him? Is there a version on you, in the realm of infinite possibilities, who can even do that?

No.

Because, deep down, you know. You know he's not happy, that there's something broken in him, something that made him build up walls to never be breached ever again. Because you feel that loneliness and the disappointment that comes when everything he does to fill his empty heart backfires. Because you feel he's not ready for it, or only not ready to embrace it, but also that he knows he can't go on like this forever.

You know you should just give up on him; or, at the very least, listen to your coworkers, but you can't. You know you need to be there for when he'll be tired of dancing in the dark.

The end.

[incorrectgallaghergirlsquotes]

Hello!!! Would you please make something about the scene before Zach sleeps in cam's bed in UWS? ( Like immediately after his mission with joe) cause he said he got stupid? Thanks!

Hello! You guys! This goes in the basket with the scene where he finds Macey instead of Cammie. I love this scene. I think I have an in depth analysis of it in my drafts. (Update: I DO. I'll post it next.) Let's do it!

Rachel softly closed the door to her office. The man inside would be fine for now. The boy in the hallway, however...

"Thanks for getting him back in one piece." Rachel told Zach. He was leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, and not looking at her.

"It was the least I could do," was all he said. "I can, um,"

"Stay." Rachel interrupted. "Zach, these things happen. But you both made it back," she placed a hand on his shoulder. "That's what is important."

Zach looked from her hand and then finally to her face. Finding only sincerity there, he nodded.

She smiled at him. "Good. Besides, I think my daughter will be very upset if she doesn't get to see you when she gets back."

Zach inhaled, of course Rachel had anticipated the question he had wanted to ask. "Is she...?"

"She should be back soon," Rachel said. "You should wait for her."

Zach nodded. He moved to follow her back into her office, but Rachel blocked him. "Why don't you head up to the girls room?" she asked.

Zach seemed taken aback by the suggestion. He blinked at her, trying to judge if it was a test or something. Rachel just smiled at him. "They should go up there directly after arriving anyway. If not, that's where I'll send her. She'll be happy to see you."

It struck Zach in that moment that somewhere along the way, Rachel had decided she trusted him.

She was still smiling at him. "I trust you know the way?" When he nodded, she waved her arm in dismissal. She went back into the office to tend to Joe while Zach made his way through the halls.

As excited as he was to see Cammie, the guilt over what happened on his mission with Joe was weighing on him. With every step he realized he didn't know how Cammie would be returning. What if she had been hurt? Rachel hadn't said anything, but maybe she didn't know yet.

He reached her door and paused. Maybe this was a bad idea. Or maybe it was the self sabotage talking.

The girls had locked their door, which Zach had anticipated. That hadn't been a problem in the past (a thought that he hated out of context). It did strike him that Rachel had also likely anticipated that and that Zach would still be able to get in.

Their lives were weird.

The room was different without at least some of the girls present. It still had the lived in, homey feel and character of the four girls it was just... still.

He found himself moving around the room, the door clicking shut behind him. He had never spent a long amount of time in the girls room and when he had been in there his focus had been on one thing in particular. It was like, for the first time, he processed there were things in that room. Books and make up and scrunchies and pens and trinkets pertaining to each girl. He found himself walking around Cammie's bed, gaze trained on her bedside table.

There was a picture of her and her mom and another of her with Bex and Liz, probably from their first year. Next to them were photobooth pictures of them with Macey, possibly from the semester Zach had been there. There was a tube of chapstick, a few hair ties, a necklace, and other usual items. It was interesting how a few years ago he would have looked at all those items to learn about her, but now it didn't tell him anything he didn't already know.

Without anything else to occupy himself, he suddenly felt awkward. What was he supposed to do until she got back? Standing in the room felt weird, but so did sitting at her desk, or on her bed. He was still by her bedside table so he sat on the bed, testing it out. He wasn't facing the door so he didn't feel quite like a puppy waiting for it's person to get home.

It was then that he realized, in typical Cammie fashion, she hadn't bothered to make her bed before leaving. Which he could single her out for because all of her roommates had made theirs.

Smiling, he at least rearranged her comforter so it looked more put together. She'd likely be tired when she got back, he knew he was. Although, it hadn't hit him until he sat on her bed again. The beds at the Gallagher Academy were the most comfortable he'd ever been fortunate enough to sleep on.

Careful to keep his shoes off her bed, he let himself recline back. His head fell on Cammie's pillow and he became engulfed in the scent of her shampoo. And just... her. It was sweet but subtle. Flowery and... something else.

Zach hadn't planned on his eyes drifting shut. He caught himself a few times and tried to shake himself out of it. He couldn't, however, bring himself to get up again.

Ultimately, Cammie won out and he drifted off to sleep. Surrounded by her both physically and in his thoughts.

It paled in comparison to waking up to the sound of her saying his name. He opened his eyes and there she was. Perfect.

[theycallme-thejackal]

Pairing: Lenny Bruce & Midge Maisel Rated T Warnings: Season 5 Spoilers, Major Character Death

(This is deeply, deeply sad - I cried while writing it. I swore I’d never write anything like this. Just call me Rachel because I’m eating my shorts right now.)

She has an army of people in her home, helping to empty her closet, label the career-defining outfits, and move the clothes to the auction house to raise money for her foundation.

It’s time.

Being on the outs with Susie is the final nail in the coffin of the Mrs. Maisel that used to be. Her naïveté is long gone, as are the fashions of the 1960s.

And she’s alone.

She’s tried. She’s tried so hard to be a good mother. A good wife. A good friend. But nothing has turned out the way she’d hoped. Even her career has had hellish stumbles. It’s been a decade since her Carnegie Hall debacle, and it’s still one of the biggest regrets of her life. She still kicks herself every day for that fuck up.

The biggest regret of her life, though, has nothing to do with her career.

“Mrs. Maisel?”

“Yes?” She asks.

“We’ve been going through your archives, and there’s one dress that hasn’t been catalogued,” Amanda explains.

“Which one?” Midge asks, raising her eyebrows in surprise. She thought she’d been very thorough with the staff, but it appears she skipped over...

Oh.

When Amanda shows her which dress, Midge swallows thickly, tears burning the backs of her eyes. “Oh,” she whispers, standing from her desk and reaching out. Her fingers graze over the bright blue waistband and skim down the burgundy skirt.

It’s not that she forgot about this one. She could never forget the luckiest dress she ever wore. The one that was peeled from her body with such care and reverence one snowy night over twenty years ago.

“Is there a story for this one?” Amanda asks, tilting her head with interest.

“Um...yes,” she whispers. “But it’s...” She inhales deeply. “It’s a story for just me.”

The other woman nods her head. “Shall I add it to the - ”

“No,” Midge immediately interrupts. “No, I...I’m going to keep this one. No one else will have any interest in the story, so I would just feel sorry for it,” she lies.

It’s the story that made her press-shy in the first place. The story she has refused to confirm or deny for the last twenty years.

If she told the story, if she finally revealed what happened between her and the late, great Lenny Bruce the night before his triumph at Carnegie Hall, this dress would probably be considered the most valuable of them all.

But no amount of money could ever surpass its personal value to her.

She takes the dress gingerly from the other woman. “Well,” Amanda says. “Everything else seems to be in order, so we’re going to transfer everything over to the warehouse if that’s alright.”

“That’s fine,” Midge says, putting on a brave facade. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Good night, Mrs. Maisel.”

Midge closes the door between them and sits back down, holding the dress tightly. She misses him. She misses him and has missed him every day of her miserable life.

Despite three marriages since that night and countless suitors, she has never loved a man like she loved Lenny Bruce.

It’s masochistic and maudlin, but she finds herself slipping out of her clothes and into the dress she hasn’t worn since November of 1960.

It’s tight. She’s not twenty-eight anymore. Hell, she’s pushing fifty at this point and eighties undergarments don’t cinch her body quite like the show corset. But she manages to get the zipper up with sheer determination.

And then she cries.

She cries for the man who was so full of love but could never find it in himself to let her love him in return. For the man whose coffin she shoveled dirt onto in 1966, whose daughter she held while she cried over her daddy’s grave. She cries for her kids, for how hard it must have been to grow up with her as a mother. She cries for Susie, who despite their estrangement is still the best friend she’s ever had.

She cries and cries until there are no tears left in her body.

That night she dreams of him. Of that night in his blue room. She remembers what it was like to feel well and truly loved. To have someone with her who chased the loneliness away.

For a brief moment before she opens her eyes, she hopes the last twenty years were all a horrible nightmare. That she will wake in her apartment on Riverside Drive with a hot pack on her head and a black toe. That she will be able to move forward in a better way. Maybe she’ll run into him at the airport and this time she’ll tell him. She’ll voice that one thing neither one of them was ever brave enough to say out loud. And maybe - just maybe - he’ll say it back.

But when she opens her eyes, there’s no Lenny. She’s just...all alone.

[shannyh25]

I have had this idea in my head for awhile and I posted it on Fan Fiction. I only had 1 review and I was hoping for more. You guys are Anne and Gilbert fans just like I am, maybe you can give me some advice on what I can do to make the story stronger? Maybe if people really like it, they can review it?

We have all heard and read about Anne’s teaching days and her experience with it all. But what about Gilbert’s teaching days? I think it sucks that we only got to see and read just a snippet of Gilbert’s teaching experience. I think he deserves a story of his own teaching experience. I have only read one other story on fan fiction about Gilbert’s teaching days and I thought I would try my own version of it.

I would like to continue this story. Maybe you can guys can give me some feedback on it? I would appreciate it.

Summary: When Gilbert is given the opportunity to tutor is cousin Katie over the summer,he is more then excited to jump at the chance Katie is struggling in school and hardly passed her grade at the end of the year. Katie is also excited about Gilbert being her teacher, but scared to. What happens when Gilbert and Katie are over at Anne's house and Uncle Abe's storm prediction came true?

Chapter 1

Gilbert Blythe stood nervously in front of the school board. He was holding his hat in his hands and fiddling with it, trying to keep his hands a little busy while the school board talked over why Gilbert called the school board meeting.

Gilbert was sitting in one of the front row desks of the school house and was trying not to stare at the three people up front.

He went over to Rachel Lynde's house last night asking her if she could get the school board together the next day or so. He said it was important and he told her why and what he had been planning to do.

Rachel was silent for a moment and then gave Gilbert a grin. "I think that is mighty generous of you Gilbert. I know you had your heart set on teaching at Avonlea School. You told me that you wanted to teach here as soon as you graduated. Now you're changing your mind and wanting to withdraw your application? Is that correct?"

"Yes ma'am. I want to give Anne the school. She wants to be closer to Marilla and help her out with the farm and chores. Marilla helped Anne and took her in and Anne wants to return the favor and help her out. Especially with Marilla's eye site not doing so good." Gilbert said.

Rachel patted Gilbert's hand and smiled, "You're a fine young man Gilbert Blythe. You're sacrificing on being close to home and help your folks out and saving money for medical school like you wanted to. Instead, you're giving up the chance to let Anne teach in Avonlea. I'll make my rounds to the School Board this very evening and you can meet us in the school house, let's say 10:00 tomorrow morning?"

"Yes, ma'am and thank you. I want to give you this too so you can show the rest of the board. It's my letter and signature withdrawing the application for Avonlea School. I already have a teaching job at White Sands School. I start in September." Gilbert said giving her his letter.

Rachel took it and quickly read it and then folding it back up, she smiled at Gilbert. "I can see your mind is made up. Very well then Gilbert. I shall go immediately to Reverend Allan and Mr. Bell's house this evening and tell them to come to the school tomorrow morning. See you then Gilbert."

"Thank you, Mrs. Lynde." Gilbert said.

Sighing with relief, Gilbert went back home.

That's how he ended up here in the Avonlea School the next morning. Rachel, Reverend Allen, and Mr. Bell were talking in whispers about Gilbert's offer to Anne. He was antsy and anxious on what they would say to him.

"Gilbert son, please come up here." Mr. Bell said.

Gilbert came up and stood in front of the board. Rachel gave him a small wink and a grin and he knew that meant yes. But he kept it cool.

"We understand that you want to give the school to Anne Shirley, right?" Mr. Bell said.

"Yes sir. I'm not changing my mind either. I spoke to my parents and they agreed I can give her the school. I'm not backing out of this. It's more important for Anne to be near home and close to Marilla. It's my gift to Anne." Gilbert said.

"Well, I can see there is no sense in talking you out of your decision. Very well then Gilbert, Anne Shirley can be the new Avonlea School teacher for the next two years. Here is our letter with all our signatures on it saying it's hers. Good luck to your teaching in White Sands. I hope you won't forget Avonlea that easily." Mr. Bell said.

Gilbert took the letter that Mr. Bell had written and he also took back his letter, he thanked them and gave Rachel a quick grin saying thank you. Another wink from Rachel, Gilbert slipped out of the old school for the last time.

"The school board accepted my offer in giving Anne the school. She can have it for two years." Gilbert said with a grin.

Gilbert's father John smiled as he set down his coffee mug. "Congratulations, Gilbert. I saw you going over to Rachel's house yesterday evening and your Ma told me you wanted to call the school board together. We are both proud of you."

"Thanks Pa. I just hope Anne accepts it and doesn't think of it as a charity matter." Gilbert said.

"Anne might not accept it at first, but she will once you explain why you're wanting to give her the school. You're sacrificing a lot son by giving Anne the school. I hope you know that. I'm not trying to guilt-trip you. I think what you're doing is might kind of you. Just be sure to tell Anne this act of kindness isn't charity." John said.

"You're not guilt-tripping me Pa. I thought long and hard and I even spoke to Diana Barry about giving the school to Anne. Diana thought it was nice and sweet. Diana also told me I was sacrificing but I assured her I know what I was doing and she promised to keep this a secret." Gilbert said.

"Diana won't tell a soul. As far as Anne knows, you're still teaching at the Avonlea School. Diana and Anne were talking about it yesterday afternoon. Diana told me that Anne will be perfectly happy staying at home helping Marilla and she will do her study college courses in the evenings." Gilbert said.

"It sounds like Anne has her future set. We have some news to tell you. Aunt Chelsea wrote to me last week. She mentioned that you wrote to Katie telling her you will be her teacher in the fall at her school.

Gilbert was just getting ready to head out the door to go and see Anne. He was excited to deliver the good news about giving her the Avonlea School.

Gilbert was halfway down the stairs when he heard his mother call him. He hopped down the two steps and his mother looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I wish you wouldn't jump down the last two stairs like that. You'll trip one of these days and fall flat on your face. I need to talk to you for a moment. Are you heading out?" His mother asked.

Gilbert grinned. "Yes. I was going to deliver the good news to Anne about her having the Avonlea School but it can wait though. What's on your mind?"

"Your Aunt Chelsea wrote me yesterday. She told me that you had mentioned you were going to be Katie's teacher this year for school. Katie is excited but scared too. Has Katie mentioned to you that she was having trouble in school?" Isabelle asked.

Gilbert thought for moment. "No, not at all. What does this have to do with me though?"

"Aunt Chelsea wants to know if you would like to tutor Katie this summer. She barley passed school this year. She got D-'s and C-'s. Occasionally a C+. Her teacher took pity on Katie and passed her onto the fourth grade. Katie is having trouble in math, spelling, writing, and reading/reading out loud. Aunt Chelsea offered room and board instead of paying you money for tutoring Katie, you can stay at their house during the school year instead. That way, you can save money for medical school. Plus, you will be able to help Katie after school in the evenings and you and Katie can spend more time with each other. Aunt Chelsea doesn't want to put pressure on you though. She is having Katie bring along all her school work, her slate, and her writhing tablets with her school books just in case. Aunt Chelsea wants you two to have a fun summer."

"Of course, I'll help Katie!" Gilbert said.

Isabelle smiled at Gilbert. "I knew you would. Just don't be too hard on her but be firm and strict if you have to be though. I'll go up to the spare room and gather up all your old school supplies. Including an old chalk board and pointer you can use, with your old school books, papers and Katie's. I'm sure you'll find some wonderful lesson ideas."

"Thanks Ma. When will they be here?" Gilbert asked.

"Two days so I have a lot to do." Isabelle said.

"That doesn't give me a lot of time to gather up ideas and write out lesson plans. I need to get on that right away as soon as I get back from Anne's. Oh, I can't wait. This will be fun!" Gilbert said.

"Send Anne my love and congratulations to getting the school. Maybe Anne can help you come up with some lesson plans ideas for Katie." Isabelle said.

Gilbert grinned. "Absolutely. I'll be back in less than an hour. I have to prepare!"

Hugging his mother and grabbing his hat, he made his way out to the barn.

Gilbert rode his horse Primrose down to Green Gables to give Anne his exciting news. One was about giving her the Avonlea School and the other was that Katie was coming to spend the whole summer with him and his parents.

Gilbert was coming down the hill when he saw Anne walking back from visiting Mathew's grave. He saw her put her hand over her eyes to see who was coming down the hill.

As he got closer to her, he slowed his horse down and Anne stopped walking. Gilbert got off his horse and was holding the reins so she can graze on the grass while they talked.

"Hello, Anne. " Gilbert said

"Hello, Gil. What brings you out this way?" Anne asked.

Anne saw Gilbert pull out an envelope and she looked at him curiously.

"I have a few things to tell you. But first, I want you to read this." Gilbert handed her the envelope and she looked at him.

"Open it." Gilbert said.

Anne opened the envelope and quickly looked over the letter. Gilbert's eyes never leaving Anne's face. He was watching Anne's expression anxiously. Not sure how she would react to this piece of news he gave her.

What felt like forever, Anne finally looked up at Gilbert.

"You're-you're giving me the Avonlea school? But why Gil? You need to save money for medical school. I can't accept this. I have plenty to do to keep me busy." Anne said.

"I can't go back to the school board again. I already signed the paper work. My name is signed already. Please accept this, Anne. Let's say this is a thank you for finally speaking to me and we can be friends." Gilbert said.

Anne looked at Gilbert and a small grin appeared on her face. "I don't know what to say expect thank you for giving me the school Gilbert. I had plenty to do at home. I came to peace with my decision on not teaching. I was going to study at home and help Marilla with the farm. But this, this a gift and I can't tell you how appreciative I am."

"I know how much Marilla and Green Gables means to you Anne. Marilla helped you and took you in when you needed a home and a family. Now you're wanting to do your part and help Marilla. That's why I did what I did. I wanted you to be close to Green Gables. I'll still be teaching. Just at White Sands where their school is. My little cousin Katie will be in my class." Gilbert said.

"Oh Gil. I can't let you sacrifice your medical school just for us. You need the money for medical school which why I didn't take the Avonlea School. So, you can be close to home and stay with your parents while you teach." Anne said.

Gilbert grinned. "Will you hush up Anne. That's what else I wanted to talk to you about. I have been writing to my cousin Katie since she left to go back home at Christmas time. I told her I was planning on giving you the Avonlea School. I had planned on teaching at White Sands. When Katie said she goes there, I got even more excited. Katie told her mother, my aunt, about me teaching at White Sands. My aunt offered me to tutor Katie this summer in school. Katie has been struggling in four subjects. Math, reading/reading out loud, spelling, and writing. My aunt asked me to tutor Katie this summer, I can stay at my aunt and uncle's house during the school year so I can save money for medical school. That way, I can also tutor Katie as well in the evenings after we get home from school. So, you see, I'm still going to save money just like I planned. Only difference is, I'll be teaching at White Sands and staying at my aunt and uncles house instead of my house." Gilbert said.

Anne looked at him letting this information sink in. "Are your parents okay with you giving me the school? You'll be away from them for so long. You were planning on helping them on the farm on the evenings and weekends."

Gilbert groaned. "It's all worked out Anne. I promise my family is okay with this. I'm not turning back now. I can't with my cousin needing my help in school. I'm too excited to turn this opportunity down. I'll be helping my cousin in her school work for the next two or three years and tutoring her every chance I get. She struggled this year in school. She barley passed. She had D+'s and C-'s which isn't passing. I plan on getting her to B+'s and A-'s by the time my teaching career is done. I'll need help though coming up with ideas. You're better at that then I am. What do you say Anne? Will you accept my offer on giving you the Avonlea School?"

"Yes Gil. Only if I get to see Katie this summer." Anne said with a grin.

"Absolutely. " Gilbert promised.

"Katie has been writing to me too since Christmas time. Her writing can use a little work, and spelling." Anne said chuckling.

"How come you didn't tell me Katie was writing to you too?" Gilbert asked.

"Katie asked me not to tell you. I wanted to respect her wishes. She said she is excited to see you this summer, but also scared that you're going to be her teacher. Katie will have anxiety Gil. She is going to be shy towards you when you first start teaching her. Don't be too hard on her on the first morning of summer school. Especially if she doesn't want to eat breakfast. If I hear that you force fed that child again like you did last summer, I swear Gilbert Blythe I will break a dozen slates over your head and have Katie break another dozen slates. I won't accept the school if you pull that stunt again. Anne said.

"I have only done that once and my mother just reminded me again. She threatened that I won't teach Katie this summer and make sure that you will be teaching her instead. I know Katie will be scared of me being her teacher. I will be strict and firm if I have to. She needs to eat breakfast though Anne. If she doesn't, she'll be hungry. I can't have her eating a snack during class when school actually starts. That wouldn't be fair to the other children. I will expect her to eat breakfast in the mornings. Even when she visits us. She knows I am strict with her and I don't let her get away with much. I'll try not to lose my temper though." Gilbert finished.

"I know you're going to be in charge of her most of the time she is there during the school time hours. Just remember she will be shy and scared of you being her teacher so go slow. Baby steps. I have to go home now. But I'll write a list of ideas for you to work on with Katie. I'll drop them off tomorrow. Gil? I want to thank you for giving me the school. This means more to me then you know. I'll make you proud and I'll make sure that you won't regret giving me the school" Anne finished.

Gilbert grinned. "I don't regret giving you the school Anne. It was meant to be. This will work. We'll make it work. I need to go too. I promised mother that I will help get the guest room ready for Katie. I need to find all my school books and slate. I need to make lesson plans, tests, and quizzes to see where Katie is at. I have a lot to do. I'll walk you home though. You can tell Marilla and Rachel the good news."

Anne grinned and she allowed Gilbert to put his arm around her shoulder to walk her home with his horse Primrose walking behind therm.

[writingsteph]

Any plans to write soon?

I've written down a lot of ideas I've had, and I've toyed with the next chapter of OSI in my head for months now. Writing however has been the struggle.

Recently though been watching House and fixated a bit on a story where House and Cuddy broke up later on in their relationship and things ended not too awfully. It's years later, Cuddy's daughter is 14 and she finds herself in trouble and at work with her mom. Been writing it down today. here's a snippet:

................................................................................................................

House and Rachel heard and Saw Cuddy before she walked into the glass walled  office. They were quick to hide the ketchup packets they were planning on opening and hiding under certain seat cushions. 

They looked up and sat down as soon as Cuddy opened the door. The woman looked at both of them suspiciously. She was tight lipped and furrowed her brow, pointing at her child first. 

“Mom, I did my missing classwork. I just took a small break to hang out with House.”

“And your break is officially over. Go back to my office and complete at least three more assignments.”

“But I have the whole-”

She pointed towards the door, “Now, young lady. Do I need to have you at my hip to make sure you do as I ask?”

Rachel felt her cheeks redden, “No. I’m going. I’m going.” 

House looked at the girl, “See ya later matey.”

“Bye House.” She mumbled, defeated. The girl walked past her mother with her gaze down, though she still felt her mother’s hawk-like eyes follow her out.

It was only once Cuddy was sure that her daughter would do as she said that she turned her attention back to House, “Please just tell me you didn’t have her break any laws with you.”

“Promise. She was just helping me with a little collegiate bonding.” He walked towards his desk chair and Cuddy leaned on the door frame with a smirk, wondering what it was that “collegiate bonding” meant. “She’s here as punishment so if you are going to undermine me and take her from my office at  least make it-”

“Unfun? How about torturous? Do you prefer physical punishment?” He asked sarcastically.

“House, please stop.”

The man leaned back in his chair, “Relax momma bear. I, unfortunately, could never hurt mini Cuddy. An annoying chink in my studded armor.”

And the woman tried hard not to smile. Their relationship was long over but the remnants of it were very real. And still there. After all, it wasn’t for lack of love that they broke up. 

“So” He exclaimed, “I hear she’s starting her descent into teenage dirtbaghood.”

Cuddy stood a little taller, “She- she talked to you?”

He gave her a small nod. Rachel had talked to him, midway through their shenanigans, right after the stink bomb had been placed in Wilson’s office.

“Skipping her sixth period math class this week, right?”

“Please tell me she told you more.”

“She did, but I can’t-”

“House, you’re really not going to tell me?!” Cuddy’s voice grew louder, “Rachel is my daughter and I-”

“She’s fine! Relax!” He cut her off, “None of the worst case scenarios that are stockpiling in your head are true.”

“I’m not-”

“Oh please. Do you forget we dated? I know you very, very well. Look, she's going to talk to you.” He finally looked towards his ex-girlfriend's face and saw maternal worry etched on her face, “Cuddy.” He called her attention and they locked eyes, “You’re raising a good kid. Moronic at times, but aren’t we all?” Her eye roll was his cue to continue, “She’ll talk to you because she trusts you. But for now, just know she is no worse for wear.”

She sighed, but knew that House would not give in, and oddly enough, his words did make her feel better. A reminder that House had his own twisted way of making life feel easier.

[mountswhore]

𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 — mason mount

summary: chelsea’s massage therapist, and mason’s long term crush, had moved to a different club. but after reuniting at nationals, you realise just how much you missed him.

notes: requests are open, just ask! this is so fucking long, please read when you have time.

“I will take care of you.” + “I could never get tired of you.”

for @masterclassbaby

“she’s pretty,” mason hummed, chin in the palm of his hands and eyes gazing at you. chelsea’s newest sports massage therapist. he watched as you conversed with a few of the injured teammates, the boys on either side of him laughing at his blushed cheeks.

“mounty’s in love.” chilly sang, pushing mason gently. the three of them were laying on the turf, waiting for their trainer to arrive and being introduced to the pretty lady who would be massaging their injured limbs from now on. “go on, make a move before kai does. you know he will.”

“i’m not making any moves,” mason huffed and pushed himself to his feet, ben following suit and pulling a ball towards him with his foot, “can i appreciate her beauty without wanting to make a move?” ben rolled his eyes at his friend, eyes now focused on the ball for the first time in twenty minutes.

“so you’re just going to stare at her, like a creep.” ben stated, stopping the ball with the side of his foot and kicked it back to mason. “noted.” mason was barely focused, looking over to you every time you laughed or your voice echoed. he’d laugh with you, crinkling his nose when you did, it was sickening.

ben had kicked the ball to mason’s feet, where is stilled and hadn’t even broken his stare. he had ‘regained control of the ball’ by kicking mason’s ankles, which had definitely caught his attention and caused him to hiss in pain. “you fucker, what did you do that for?”

“i just gave you a reason to talk to her, you clown.” ben revealed sarcastically, mason limping over to you as you held a look of concern.

“everything okay, mount?” you politely asked, the slight touch on his back as well as hearing his name fall from your mouth was sending him into a frenzy. he just nodded, and followed you inside to where your new office resided. “what the hell happened? last time i looked, you were kicking a ball about with chilly.”

your voice was as silky as he’d imagined. “yeah, he’s a bit slow. so he thought kicking me in the ankles would be a wise idea.” you couldn’t help but giggle at the man’s joke, avoiding his gaze as you were sure to blush. this man was attractive, but it was your first day, you had to remain professional.

“i better get to work,” you huffed, rubbing some hand sanitiser onto your hands and pulling his socks down. “we can’t have chelsea’s best player injured a few days before the game,” you’d finally met eyes and stared at each other for a brief second, before bashful looking away.

“you think that?” mason almost sounded unsure of himself.

“of course,” you grinned and applied some pressure to the side of his ankle, “i’d say you’re one of the best.” mason hummed almost silently, resting his head back on the table. it didn’t hurt, and if anything, he’d have to thank chilly for kicking his ankles, as it got you two talking.

weeks had passed, mason visiting your office most days with random excuses.

“my legs are fine. but maybe a shoulder rub for good luck?”

“i bought you a smoothie.”

“it’s cold outside, and i told the boys my thighs were sore.”

“now i’m just bored.”

every time he’d appear, you’d just pull up a chair instead of prepping the table. he’d talk to you about the most random of things, the pair of you having an intense debate on whether or not ross and rachel were on a break. he’d quickly become your favourite visitor.

“mr. mount, to what do i owe the pleasure?” you questioned, knowing it was him just by the way he fiddled with the handle before opening the door. he grinned at the nickname, sitting in the desk chair beside you.

“i actually came to ask if you wanted to go for a drink tonight. the boys were meant to, but now it looks like i’m all alone.” mason explained, a white lie thrown into the mix. he wasn’t being left by the boys, he asked them to cancel, so he could spend some with you. “so, you fancy it?”

“sure.” you smiled, accepting his invitation before you could overthink your way into cancelling. “i’ll text you my address.” he nodded his head, resting his head on his hands as you got on with paperwork. you could see out of the corner of your eye, he was staring at you as you worked. he had no training to be getting on with, and saw a better pastime in watching you work.

when you’d finally finished work and gotten yourself dressed up, mason was even more in awe of you. you looked adorable at work, and now he’d seen you in a new light. it’s like seeing your crush outside of school, it’s weird not seeing them in uniform, but seeing a new layer of them was good. he’d picked you up and taken you to the nicest pub he could find, it was a quiet one. it was a pub you had to pay extra for to sit on the terrace with a table to yourself. but he was willing to go the distance.

“it’s weird not seeing you in your kit.” you mentioned, staring at his impeccable sense of fashion. like he’d been ripped from the front page of asos. mason chuckled loudly and sipped on his beer, after doing a brief ‘cheers’ with you. it was british tradition, after all.

“i know. i’m used to seeing you in leggings and a chelsea top.” mason observed, his cheeks blushing at the way you looked at him. he felt the butterflies begin to swarm in his stomach, like they did on the way here. “now you’re in a dress, i can see your legs.” his eyes widened at the weird statement that just fell from his lips, face burning with embarrassment. “sorry, that sounded so creepy.”

you burst into laughter, feeling anything but disturbed. in fact, you felt more comfortable with him. “don’t worry about it, you’re easy to feel comfortable with.” mason took this chance to hide his rosy cheeks by sipping on his beer. the pair of you conversed for well over an hour, your conversations from work spilling into the mix too. and soon enough you were laughing on the walk back to your home.

“that’s hilarious. i can’t believe we could’ve almost met years ago.” you exclaimed, mason proud of recalling that memory. the pair of you remembered an awful christmas concert that happened in a town near central london, and were almost inches apart unknowingly covering your ears at the screeches made by the backup singers.

you’d ended up at your door, mason standing just centimetres away from your face. you knew what he wanted, and you wanted it to. so, with the confidence given to you by the mixer you’d just downed a while ago, you closed the gap between you and engaged in a sweet kiss with him. it was well overdue, mason’s teammates would say as he told them the following day.

you’d settled in really nicely with the team, enjoying every day you spent at the training grounds. you’d only been on that one drink date with mason, always planning to reschedule another but you’d both be too busy to do so. it didn’t stop you from texting nonstop and have some late night facetime calls. you were really beginning to like each other. it was as if nothing could ruin your happiness you felt with your life at this moment.

until you’d been pulled aside and told by chelsea’s own manager that a man united massage therapist had quit, offering you the job. it would mean your whole life would shift, you’d have to move, you’d have to make friends with a team all over again, and leave mason. you couldn’t bear telling him, which you’d also been told to do. you’d have to break the news to your beloved team, who would come and cheer with you after a win, and always pester you with random requests. you were each of their’s personal assistant almost, loving your relationship with them all. and mason, you knew he’d be crushed, the girl he was so deeply falling for, being told to move to another club.

you were on edge since that very morning, not being your usual joking self with your boys as they came in for their sessions. you’d weakly smile at them and make small talk whilst tending to their stiff joints, then let them leave. all the boys carried on with their day, assuming you were just having a bad day. but mason could see through you, he could tell something was playing on your mind.

as you were putting pressure on mason’s ankle, which he’d been take off the pitch for last week, he grabbed your arm gently. sitting up, he pulled you close to him and held you how he usually did. his hands grazing your sides and his eyes almost burning holes into your own. “talk to me, pretty. what’s on your mind?”

you shook your head. “i’d go easy on the foot today, mount. i don’t want to see you benched next game.” would you even be able to see their next game? it brought you close to tears throughout the day, but being trapped in a room with mason, you were bound to cry and tell him everything.

his grip didn’t leave your arm, instead he pulled you closer to him and held you close to his chest, now standing and towering over you. you felt a sob erupt through your chest, opening the flood gates as you cried into him. he’d never seen you like this, you were always his smiling ball of sunshine. “talk to me, y/n.”

“they’re moving me.” you simply stated, hoping not to say another word and him just understand completely. but it didn’t work like that, none of the team knew. mason would be the first to know, and you had to tell the rest of the team before the day was up. as this weekend you’d be arranging accommodation in manchester whilst you looked for permanent residence, as well as meeting the team and staff you’d be working for.

“what?”

“they’re moving me to united, mase. a therapist quit over there and they asked for me, your manager signed me over a few days ago. and i’m gonna be leaving you boys.” you explained, mason’s grip on you loosening as he tried to come to terms with what you were saying. he’d had his fair share of bad news in his life, but this was the biggest blow he’d felt in a while.

“they can’t do that,” mason stuttered over his tears, a frown cast upon his face, “they can’t just expect you to pack up and leave.” you placed your hands over his cheeks, forcing him to look down at you. that’s when his tears began to fall, looking so vulnerably at each other in this time of sadness.

“they can, mason. and they have, i need to go this weekend to meet the team and look to move up there.” you admitted, your hands refused to leave his face. you were soaking up every bit of mason you could before you left. long-distance didn’t work for either of you, especially with how busy you both were. the only time you’d see each other would be if chelsea were to play united.

“i can’t lose you, y/n.” he confessed, pulling you into him and resting his head above yours. it wasn’t just losing a girl he was seeing, it was losing someone he loved. he’d fallen deeply in love with you — but telling you would just hinder your movement. he couldn’t make it any harder than it was, it would ruin you. he just had to let you go.

that afternoon, you’d thought about what you were going to say and met the boys on the pitch. the second mason saw you, it took everything in him to not cry into his hands. but he managed to stay strong. you stood weakly beside the team manager, avoiding everyone’s eyes and fiddling with your jumper sleeves.

“afternoon boys,” you greeted them, hearing a few cheers and whistles, they loved you, “i have some news. today will be my last day working with you. i’ve been transferred to united, which will take full effect this weekend. you guys have my number if you just want to talk rubbish, or have any questions for me.” it was a long while of hugging them all, laughing with them and repeating little inside jokes with them.

“what are you going to do without me, huh?” you asked reece, who just chuckled and gave you a squeeze. “i’ll miss you all, you know who i’ll be cheering on if you ever go against united.”

you’d settled in at united perfectly, but something was missing. it was always going to feel this way, nothing would ever break the bond you shared with the chelsea boys. even when they went head to head, and you’d catch mason’s eyes on the pitch, you’d have to hide your smile when they scored, and try even harder if mason was the one putting it in the back of the net. you got on well with the boys here, but you found yourself missing the boys back at chelsea, and most of all, mason.

months had passed since your move to manchester, and you were heading out of your office on a particular tiring friday afternoon, walking past united’s manager, who always seemed to be on his way to something.

“ah, y/n, just who i needed to see.” he commented, stopping you as you were headed out to find a late rashford for his session. “keep an eye on your emails tonight, please. you’ve been included in an international offer.” you nodded, not hearing anything past the word ‘email’. and when you’d gotten home that evening, waiting for your takeaway to arrive, you mindlessly scrolled your emails.

something about the upcoming world cup, saying you’d been selected as the teams massage therapist. it burned your eyes as you danced around your tiny living room; so happy to have a chance at seeing any of the chelsea boys again. you’d thought that after all these months of just seeing mason’s face in his instagram posts, he’d have forgotten about you and moved on. but it was the furthest from the truth.

mason watched over your socials for months, seeing your various pictures with the likes of rashford, shaw, and lingard. he made sure you had friends and was having a good time up north. but every night he’d go to bed, yearning for you and the time you both spent together. missing your first kiss, missing hearing the sound of your laugh in real life, not just through another footballers videos. he missed spending hours on the phone. and although he had a chance to reconnect with you, it would be too much for the both of you to handle. he’d miss you so much more, knowing you were simply unobtainable.

after signing all of the correct documents to show you could in fact work for the national team, you were on your way to the training grounds and coping with living in the camp alongside the boys and other members of staff. it was better than your tiny manchester apartment, that was for sure. you weren’t really needed outside for training, so you set up your office and began on your paperwork. time passed a lot quicker here than it did when you worked at united, it was nearing your lunch break already. a knock was placed at your door, bringing your out of your work daze.

“hello, stranger.” you heard from behind you, heart overjoyed that it was actually him. it was your mason. you turned round to greet him, standing up and immediately pulling him into a hug. it felt familiar, the only bit of familiarity you had in this place. “god, i missed you.” he even smelt the same, as creepy as it was to say.

“i knew you’d be called up,” you admitted to him, looking up at his red face. it was just like the first time, he was so nervous to talk to you, “you’re still my best player.” his hands found your cheeks, taking advantage of the affection not feeling awkward. it was as if you never left.

“you don’t understand how much i’ve missed you all these months, y/n,” he whispered, face centimetres away from yours. “how much i’ve wanted to kiss you again.” you wanted it too, you finally felt like you found your missing piece. but you had to remain professional, this was national level now, not just club level.

“trust me,” you whispered back at him, holding your hands above his own, “i’ve wanted to kiss this pretty face, too. but we have to be professional.” he nodded, understanding that if they were caught, you’d be the one facing repercussions, not him. so he respected your choice and stood back.

“what about when the day’s over, and we go back to the camp,” he suggested, a hand on your shoulder to stop you from turning around, “what would you say to me then?” you just shrugged, sitting back down in your chair and continuing your work. the remainder of your day was quiet, just talking about a few people tomorrow that have stiff joints that need loosening. you’d made your way back to camp, opening your door and sighing as you took your shoes off.

what room are you in? mason texted, waiting outside his door.

you’re eager, i just finished work. but i’m on the floor above you, room 39. you texted him back, speedily changing your attire for something more comfortable and freshening up. mason would be up here within seconds. and whilst there were no rules stating that the squad shouldn’t be in staff members rooms, it felt wrong.

“you’re gonna have to leave when nobody can see you.” you sighed, opening your door to an eager mason. he wormed past you and sat on your bed, semi annoyed that your bed was comfortable than his.

“so not only do you get a room to yourself, you get a bed that doesn’t feel like a plank of wood.” mason stated, clearly getting comfortable on your bed. “i just might have to stay here.” you rolled your eyes and sat beside him, resting your head on the pillow. “you tired?”

instead of saying anything, you nodded and inched closer to him. his right hand was drawing delicate patterns on your exposed arm, whilst the other was wrapped around you. this was the moment he wanted with you, even when you were working at chelsea. but it’s happening now and that’s all he cared about. holding the girl he still deeply loved in his arms.

“i’ll go down to dinner soon,” he mentioned, even if you could hear him or not, “maybe i’ll bring you something up.” a small kiss was placed on your temple, mason snuggling into you a bit more.

the next day, you knew you had some sessions. so you were up early, a text from mason on your phone.

i left late last night, i fell asleep once i came back from dinner. i hope you had a good night.

you blushed at his text, getting yourself prepared for the day. the boys had a match coming up soon and you wanted to be on top of your game, making sure they were all stretched and ready. you sat in your office, prepping your table and your paper work for the first person to enter.

you’d worked with grealish, bellingham, and lingard today. and they only had a few more hours training until they were done for the day. you sighed in your seat and rested your head against your desk, arms and hands sore. your handle was violently shoved down, your door opening in the process. startled, you watched declan carry his best mate in.

“he rolled his ankle taking a kick,” declan explained, helping his friend onto the table. you quickly sanitised your hands and pulled his sock down to observe his ankle. “will he be okay for the game in a few days?”

“yes, dec. he’ll be out in no time.” you reassured his friend, mason smiling through the sharp pain shooting through his ankle. declan had left shortly afterwards, leaving you to giggle at mason.

“what you giggling at, hm?” mason questioned, a finger tickling your side. you squirmed and brushed a hand over his head, his features relaxing under your touch.

“it’s always the ankles, hm?” you retorted, mason rolling his eyes before letting out a laugh of his own. “let’s get you back on your feet in time for this game.” you had taken his boot and sock off, applying gentle pressure to the sides of his ankle and seeing how badly he reacted to the pain.

after the next few days of training, it was finally time for the match. you stood nervously on the side of the pitch, watching the ball being passed around. you watched as it had gone to mason, someone from the opposing team sliding into mason, and knocking his ankles together. he fell and began to yell in pain, the medics rushing over to him and assessing the pain. after realising it was not too serious, but he still had to be taken off, they’d given the job to you.

mason sat on one of the chairs beside you, head leaned back as you pulled his socks down. he winced as your small, cold fingers had pressed different parts of his ankle, but it didn’t feel bad. in fact, it was quite relieving. “it really is always the ankles,” mason finally agreed, making you chuckle and sit on the floor opposite him, “god, it fucking hurts.”

“i will take care of you,” you mentioned, your hand sliding into his. he smiled at the contact, his free hands gently tickling your side. this small amount of public affection felt scary, but good. you knew someone would pick up on it, but you didn’t care in the slightest. you had been away from mason for far too long. months and months apart, yearning for each other every second you were awake.

when the match was over, england scoring a whopping 4-0, mason was by your side for the rest of the evening. even getting onto the coach to go home, he sat beside you the whole way; his hand in yours and his head gently resting against your shoulders. when heading back to camp, knowing you had a day’s break before the boys were back on for training again in time for the next match, mason followed you to your room. you didn’t mind, neither did anybody else really.

you’d gotten into bed beside him that night, eyes heavy from the amount of work you’d both put in today, and the buzzed feeling from declaring victory had awoken something in him. he had the urge to kiss you, like he has every moment he’s spent with you recently, but more than that. he wanted to tell you he loved you, but decided to keep quiet. he wanted to save it for another day, maybe someday more special, when you weren’t trying to catch up on sleep between games.

“are you tired of me?” mason asked, releasing his voice into the darkness. he had no idea whether you were awake or asleep, as half an hour had passed of you both enjoying each other’s presence. you were wide awake, although your eyes told a different story.

“i’m tired in general,” you admitted, rolling over to face him, barely catching his pearly whites in the dark, “but i could never get tired of you.” mason’s heart was beating through his chest, reaching out for your hand to place onto it. it was a special moment — feeling his heart rapidly paced from your words, you’d barely noticed mason’s arm around you as he pulled you into him.

“good, because i’m not letting you go again,” he spoke quietly, your hand now replaced with your head, feeling his pulses on your cheekbone. you smiled for the millionth time that day, happy you had your mason back.

[sunjaesol]

love, between the shadow and the soul

chenford | drabble | post-canon | title: sonnet xvii - pablo neruda

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Look, Tim Bradford did not get attracted to rookies, okay? In all the years he had been a TO, none had grabbed his attention. Not when he and Isabelle were dating, or married, or when she disappeared into the night with a trail of illicit affairs and a shot of heartache for him. Dozens of young women had sat in that car beside him and never ever had he let their femininity distract him. He served his country. He fought wars overseas. He looked Death right in the eye every single day and never blinked.

But then came officer Lucy Chen. He instantly knew the type of cop she’d be the second she turned in her seat, meeting his gaze for the first time, and nervously smiled at him. Nerves were normal, he was aware, but the doe-eyed look and the hopeful grin sold her out. No mystery. Just another young cop that would either slip through the cracks by the exam by tanking their grade due to stress, or she’d become a desk duty cop — one that stayed far from danger, that handled life with a perpetual softer touch ‘cause of her shrink parents.

Nothing wrong with that, Bishop would chastise him. Every cop had its use, she’d add. Sure, that might be true, but Tim didn’t want to babysit an armed toddler waiting for it to cry and call for mom. With just a couple well-placed Tim-tests, she’d be out of his hair in no time and then he could cross his fingers for a better recruit in the following weeks.

Life had the ability to change in a snap though — their funny, yet stern reminder that the universe called the shots, not the gun in his holster, or the rulebook. He got shot. Officer Chen backed him up. Her stubborn, yet brazen, yet honest attitude reeled him in just enough to ignore her little quirks she always joyfully displayed in the shop. Whenever he didn’t nip her ramblings in the bud fast enough, she babbled on and on about her personal life, her personal issues and relationships, like they were best friends (They weren’t! Boots and him never befriended!), like their relationship was anything more than a transactional training period. They got each other’s six. That was it.

But fuck, man. She got under his skin, too.

Lucy wore this… really nice perfume. A lot of female officers had make-up and perfume on, allowed a small sliver of self-expression, and he and Lopez had spend countless hours in a shop together. He was used to it. But somehow, Lucy’s stuck in his nose and didn’t leave. He felt like a creep, thinking about the blend of cardamom and oranges and cherry blossoms mixing with her warm skin, uncontrollable while also wanted. He wanted to fantasise about that fucking perfume of hers, a realisation that took a long time to come to terms with.

That didn’t mean he liked her though — he quickly corrected himself the first time he caught the pattern of behaviour — all it meant was that Lucy had good taste in perfume. Case closed.

So why did he linger whenever her shimmery eyes flicked up at him, why did his breath catch in his throat when her voice dropped to that infuriating sincerity as she uttered words of appraisal? Why his heart go haywire when she recorded all those audio books for him; an out of line gesture and overzealous task for a boot, which would normally result in him laughing their face.

Tim never thought he’d get over Isabelle, nor did he ever believe he’d have his happily ever after with Rachel, but with Lucy he foolishly hoped for more. A more that came from such a stupid and deluded place, probably fostered through months of loneliness and the Pavlovian response to her perfume, but one he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop it. The man was always in control about everything, ran his own tests and went over every possible outcome every day, every hour — and yet he didn’t see her coming. Lucy Chen had been right under his nose and he hadn’t been prepared for the ground to disappear beneath his feet; something that should honestly get him fired. The callousness of his emotions while entertaining the idea of a relationship with his own boot sentenced him straight to P2 or desk duty, or whatever.

Lucy deserved someone better, anyway.

Someone that understood her love for sage and cleansing homes. Someone that liked veggie burgers, chai lattes, karaoke nights and social media lurking. Someone that wouldn’t hesitate for one second to open her door for a teenage girl in need of safety and a little bit of that Chen-love. Someone that wasn’t any of those firemen assholes, but wasn’t Tim either.

He never let his insecurities get the best of him, but after seeing her thrive as a P2 without him, handling undercover stints like a pro, conquering her trauma of being buried alive, it only showcased that she had more bravery in her index finger than some army members had in their entire body, all while staying innately kind. Of course Tim lost his mind over her. Of course he tried shaping officer Barnes to be more like Lucy — more sun and bite and charisma, less army BS. Of course, of course, of course. Even Rosalind, the person he hated most besides Caleb, had him figured out in seconds. He was obvious as hell.

Which was why he had to move stations. Away from the Mid-Wilshire Division and to another. He couldn’t be around her anymore and risk compromising missions or attacks. He didn’t tell Angela the details, though her knowing look said enough, and simply replied that she’d miss him and that she was sure the chief would happily reinstate him any time.

He should’ve known that information leaked through like a wildfire.

The morning of his resignment, uniform neatly folded in his locker, Lucy stopped him in the hallway with the most befuddled expression he’d ever seen.

“What?” he said.

“What the hell,” she exclaimed. “You’re leaving and I have to hear it from Angela? Why’re you…? You love this division. Is everything okay?”

Shouldering past her, he drawled over his shoulder: “Everything’s fine, officer Chen. I’d advise you to put on your uniform and get to roll call.”

“Don’t pull this crap with me,” she bit back, latching onto his arm before he was out of reach. His feet reflexively stopped in place, stupidly waiting on her to finish her train of thought. “Tim, you can tell me if something’s wrong. We’ve been through… way too much for you to act this cold with me.”

He scoffed, feigning mockery, and put his hands on his hips. “We? Chen, I was your TO. That’s it. Get it out of your head it was more.”

Lucy blinked, once, twice, a hurt expression crossing her features, followed by disbelief and a quiet contempt he had become awfully familiar with. Swallowing back the regret, he watched as she pursed her lips and took a step back. “Wow. Okay.”

“Don’t take it personally.”

“Hard not to, officer Bradford,” she muttered. Turning to the locker rooms, she added, “Talk to me when you’re ready to not be an asshole.”

That should’ve been his cue to let her go and resume his trek to sergeant Grey, but a whiff of her fragrance wafted in his face from her dancing curls and any sensical thought was knocked out his head. He wanted to embrace her and burrow his face in her hair, he wanted to hold her with intent, he wanted to kiss the scent off her skin. His feet followed her instead, both fully aware and totally impulsive at once. He chose the excuse of loving a good argument with her to then utter: “I’m not an asshole, Chen. I’m honest.”

“If you’re honest, you’d admit that we’ve been very close friends these past months,” she exhaled, refusing to look him in the eye. He supposed he deserved that. Stopping in front of her locker, she continued with, “Distorting your own reality to fit your macho narrative isn’t healthy. Also, this is the women’s locker room. Out. Now.”

Tim sputtered out a laugh and crossed his arms. “Macho narrative? Please.”

Lucy’s eyes narrowed, all air sucked out the room at the intensity of her stare, and Tim felt himself flailing, suddenly wondering why the hell he wanted to turn in his badge when the only place he could have moments with lucy was, well, here. Why was he giving up on this, how silly it might be?

With a resolute voice, she said, “Tim, why are you resigning?”

Nothing in his entire career prepared him for this. Tim Bradford had survived Iraq and Afghanistan, twelve years of the LAPD and counting, a deadly virus, hundreds of bullets taken by the vest and felt the power of death on the blue lips of Lucy in the quiet countryside. Fear got pushed aside. Pride pulled him forward, onwards. But right now, he had to take a leap of faith — the sole thing he never relied on, but Lucy did — and trust she’d be there after the fall.

(He wanted to be that amazing someone for her.)

“Because of you,” he whispered. His fight or flight told him to run for the first time in forever, but he kept his feet glued to the floor.

Her jaw fell slack in shock. “E-excuse me? Me?! I’ve done nothing wrong!”

“Exactly,” he spit. “You… you’re…” Tim sighed. “You’re the best, Lucy.”

Faltering, her brows furrowed in utter confusion, a grain of her fury replaced with compassion. He wasn’t sure if that was warranted. All he was trying to do was get it off his chest, confess, before it escalated to insurmountable heights. “I don’t think I understand.”

“Uh…”

“You’re resigning, because I’m the best?” she tried to deduce. “No offense, any other day I’d be dancing right now, but this is just…” She gestured at him. “So weird.”

Tim let out a miserable sigh and ripped the band-aid off. Fuck it. “I’m trying to be honest about my feelings, Lucy.”

She froze. “What?”

“I like you. A lot.” Her wonderstruck expression didn’t make him feel better, so he quickly added: “Which is why I gotta decrease the risk of this exploding in our faces and go.”

“Whoa!” Lucy’s hand wrapped around his, eyes wide and searching, like any empirical data would be found within his green irises, otherwise known as fondness and unresolved tension with every quiet moment they had. “Is this… another test? Are you getting back at me for pranking you?”

He quirked a brow. “You’re a P2 now. Tests are over.”

“Right,” she quipped, catching herself. She let go of him and nervously tucked a lock behind her ear. “Yeah. Okay. And you’re serious?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. O-kay. Let me, uh…” the locker swung open “… wrap my head around this.”

“It’s a pretty easy thing to—”

“Tim.”

“Yeah, okay.” He backed off, hating how the control was out of his hands now, how he practically shoved his heart in her grip and her pretty fingers could crush it to dust if she wanted to. “I’ll let you do that.”

Walking out the locker room, he took a deep breath and straightened up his face. Alright. He royally screwed that over. If his army buddies knew, they’d all laugh in his face and tease him for the rest of his life. But at least he told her and got his answer, that a relationship was off the table but that they could save their friendship once he switched divisions and some distance mended his twisted, inside-out heart. Lucy had rocked his world and all she had to do was exist.

“Tim!”

“Wha— wow!”

Her body crashed into him the second he turned around to her beautiful voice, Lucy’s arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him down to her level ‘til all he experienced were her sweet eyes and breathless smile and a kiss. Lucy kissing him, slow and tentative, but it lit his heart aflame and urged him to hold onto her. Her perfume was all-encompassing, nose full of the fragrance and the soft slope of her neck and long, brown hair and fuck, he was kissing Lucy Chen. Except he didn’t care if the entire precinct idly watched by, or if she yanked him out the building on impulse, or anything — ‘cause he was kissing her and it was perfect. Her plump lips were better than he ever imagined.

Her hands slid from his hair to his shoulders, arms and then his hands, squeezing. His forehead pressed against hers, embarrassingly weak in the knees from that incredible kiss that he didn’t dare to stand up straight. Two silly grins broke loose on their faces. He had no clue what to do now, or not do, but he did know he wanted her. He wanted everything.

Lucy decided for him.

“Don’t go,” she whispered.

Tim smiled. “Okay.”

[adrienneleclerc]

The First Date

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Latina/Hispanic! Reader

Summary: Walter and Y/N go on a proper first date since they kissed in the interrogation room

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors because I don’t proofread

A/N: “Don Refri” is very popular, considering the fact that my followers are mostly because of my previous work, and I’m so happy! But would anyone be interested in being tagged in my other Henry Cavill fanfics? I have 2 Walter Marshall one shots out, I’m working on 2 August Walker ones, AND I really want to write a Mikey (I am watching Hellraiser as I write this, btw) one because he’s the main reason why I fell for Henry Cavill so I thought it would be fitting. LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED IN MY OTHER HENRY CAVILL FICS, also send requests if you want.

On the bright side, Walter was not suspended for punching Tyler Delgado in the face…twice.

However, he did have to do desk duty with Y/N for a week which is anything but a punishment. Walter and Y/N have been having lunch together every day and have being working late together every night. And of course when everyone else has left the station, they have a little fun, nothing more than making out though because there was no way in fuck the first time they have sex will be in the workplace. Walter considered himself to be more romantic than that.

It was the last day that Walter had desk duty (Tuesday) so he was at Y/N's desk, eating a doughnut while Y/N was typing the reports. She turns her head to see Walter's lips covered with icing.

"You could help me, you know? It would make this workload a whole lot lighter." Y/N said.

"I could help but you look so beautiful when you're typing." Walter said, leaning in to kiss her cheek but Y/N pushed him away slightly.

"Not when there are other people here, I thought we dicussed this." Y/N said.

"Well then I guess I would just have to wait until our date." Walter said. Y/N furrowed her brows.

"Our date? I don't remember being asked out on a date." Y/N said. Walter turned Y/N's chair so she is facing him.

"Y/N, my dear, will you do me the honors of accompanying me to dinner Saturday night?" Walter asked.

"What a gentleman. I would love to have dinner with you." Y/N replied. "now please wash your hands so you can help me file this in the records room." Y/N said.

"Of course, my lady." Walter said, getting up from his chair, he kissed Y/N's cheek quickly before she had time to react. When Walter left, Rachel sat down in his chair.

"How's it like working with detective grumpy so close to you? Has he been correcting the way you fill out forms?" Rachel asked.

"No, not really. He has been fine to work with, he has just been observing me, I guess. Makes me nervous, but it is fine." Y/N said, telling Rachel half of the truth. Yes, having Walter work next to her made her nervous, but thats because he is a good looking British man that wants to kiss her all the time.

"I get that. But at least he'll be back doing his thing tomorrow. I got to do something real quick." Rachel said.

The following days were normal, Walter went back to his detective duties. He would ask Y/N to his office as usual, get in a few kisses here and there, he would sometimes bring her mexican baked goods from a coffe shop, it was business as usual and no one suspects a thing.

Y/N and Walter were almost done for the day. Luckily Saturday has been very a slow day. Y/N was cleaning up her desk when Walter came out of his offcie.

"You ready to go?" Walter asked her.

"Yes I am." Y/N replied. They both left the department and kissed each other goodbye.

"I'll pick you up at 7." Walter said, walking to his truck. Y/N followed him.

"Great, where are we going?" Y/N asked.

"It is a surprise." Walter said, getting in his truck.

"What do I wear this date?" Y/N asked.

"Whatever you're comfortable with." Walter said.

"You're not helping, just thought you should know that." Y/N said.

"Darling, it is winter in Minnesota, wear somehting comfortable. I'll see you later." Walter drove off and Y/N did the same once she got into her car.

Y/N made it to her apartment and realized it was already 4:30. She can't really prepare for her date on an empty stomach so she quickly made 3 quesadillas and ate while she began contemplating what to wear. Obviously she could not go wrong with a little black dress. But she is Latina so a red dress would compliment her more and make her stand out. She took a big bite out of her quesadilla.

"Ay, que dificil es ser yo." Y/N whined, she got out her phone and played music, connecting it to the charger because there is no way she's going on a date with her phone at 43%. "I could always wear a skirt..."

Walter wasn't having an easy time picking out what to wear either. He put on a Henley shirt and flannel of the same color, he was totally okay with the outfit until he looked at himself in the mirror.

"Oh god, I look like a Winchester brother." Walter said before he took off the flannel. The navy blue henley looks fine with his jeans and snow boots. Then he started thinking if a button down shirt would be better but he settled on the blue henley.

Y/N on the other hand was still choosing.

"Ugh, why am i like this?" Y/N questioned. "Fuck it." Y/N said, pulling out a dark/emerald green long sleeve sheer lace top, a black camisole, and black high waisted jeans. Once she changed, obviously wearing thermal leggings underneath the jeans because it is fucking winter, she put on her black combat boots and add some jewelry to dress up the look. Was debating whether or not to do her makeup to she decided on...(Your choice whether or not to do makeup). She sprayed her favorite perfume, and now was looking in the mirror...staring at her hair. (Again, your choice if you want to style your hair or not).

Walter was doing his hair, actually taking care of his curls this time. He wet his hair and started styling it with whatever hair products he bought at target that his barber recommended. He diffused his hair to speed up the drying process. When he finised, he trimmed his beard, sprayed cologne, texted his friend to see if the surprise for later was almost ready and he got the thumbs up saying it should be finished by the time they go. Walter looked at the clock and saw that it was 6:30. He drove to the florist to pick up a boquet of Y/N's favorite flowers (mine are peonies, you can tell in my other work) that he had ordered earlier, and then drove to Y/N's apartment.

Y/N was walking around the apartment, overthinking about her date. Am i overdressed? Am i underdressed? What if it is a disaster? What if he realizes we are better off as friends. Or even worse, friends with benefits. Like good enough to make out with but not enough to pursure a relationship with. She was pulled out of her thoughts when she heard the doorbell ring. Y/N walked over to her door to buzz up Walter. A few moments later, there was a knock and Y/N opened the door to see Walter. Ugh, he looked so handsome.

"Good evening, my lady, these are for you." Walter said, handing Y/N the bouqet he had hidden behind him. Y/N smiled and smelled the flowers.

"These are so beautiful, Don Refri, my favorite. Come in, I'll put these in water and then I'll grab my coat so we can go." Y/N said, moving over to let Walter through and closed the door.

"You look beautiful, by the way. Green is definitely your color." Walter said, following Y/N into the kitchen.

"Thank you, I was panicking. Your curls look beautiful, by the way. Why don't you style them like this for work? Not that i don't love your hair all the time. And you trimmed your beard, you did all this for me?" Y/N asked when she finished filling a vase with water and unwrapping the bouqet to place them in the vase.

"Of course i did. I am afraid with how much I run my had through my hair, these curls won't stand a chance at work. Let's go, our journey awaits." Walter said. Y/N had her coat in hand and Walter helped her put it on (such a gentleman) and they left the apartment, Y/N locking the door behind her. When they make it outside, Walter opened the passenger door for Y/N, helping her in the truck and closing the door. Then Walter got in the truck. There were times when Walter was driving that he would drive with one hand (which i find hot) and had his right hand on Y/N's thigh. They make it to their destination and Walter helped her out the truck.

"no way, you brought me too La Grolla? I always wanted to eat here." Y/N said.

"I know, let's go in, shall we? We have a reservation." Walter said. He took her hand to his lips, placing a kiss, and they entered the restaurant. "Table for two under Walter Marshall."

"Ah yes, right this way." The hostess lead them to their table, Walter had his hand on Y/N's lower back, guiding her to their table, he then pulled out Y/N's chair and pushed it in once she was seated.

"Wow, Don Refri, you are making me believe that i should have dated British men years ago." Y/N said, taking off her coat.

"I'd say that you should have but I feel quite honored being your first British man." Walter took off his coat and Y/N would have drooled then and there because the way this muscles look in the henley was nothing short of sinful. Her eyes looked him over and Walter chuckled. "I take it you like the henley."

"There is just somehing about men wearing henleys that is so slutty and orgasmic." Y/N said

"Then maybe I'll start wearing them to work." Walter teased, winking at the end.

"Don't you dare, I wouldn't be able to concetrate." Y/N said.

Dinner went well, Walter ordered wine for them, they talked, then Walter got a text that it was finished.

"Do you want dessert or are you ready for the next part of the surprise?" Walter said.

"Another surprise? Wow, yes, lets go, I'm ready." Y/N said. Walter laughed lightly at her excitement. He asked for the check, he paid, and they left, walking to his truck. He drove to a lot where the winter carnival is. "Wait, i thought Friday was the last day."

"it is, but I helped the owner once and he said he owed me one. This is it." Walter said. Thats when everything turned on, the lights were beautiful. "So, my lady, what do you want to do first? I think its tradition as carnival dates go is to win you a prize."

"Okay then, lets see if you can win me a prize at the ring toss." Y/N challenged. She knew he was going to win but its fun to tease him. The owner was the one monitoring everything so wherever Walter and Y/N went, he followed to host the game or operate the ride. So far, Walter has won Y/N 5 stuffed animals. "Okay, Don Refri, I think this is enough." she said.

"Yeah, we need to talk about that nickname. I love it, I really do, but you said that you would stop if i started expressing my feelings, right? I started expressing my feelings to you, I think it is time that I get called something else." Walter said.

"I still have to call you that at work though, just until we tell everyone we are dating. Are you okay with that, corazón?”

"Corazón? That means 'heart', right?" Walter asked.

"Yes it does, because you have my heart." Y/N leaned up to kiss him.

"Mm, you know what else is tradition to carnival dates? Going to the ferris wheel and kissing at the very top." Walter said.

"Is that so? Then lets go, it is tradition afterall." Y/N said. Y/N place the stuffed animals on a table since they are the only ones there and went to the ferris wheel where the owner set them up and everything. It started going until it stopped when they were at the top. "The view is amazing up here."

"Yeah it is. You know, I'm very glad that you came to my police district. We never would have met otherwise." Walter said.

"True. Even though you were kind of an ass when we first met." Y/n said.

"And I am sorry for that. But now we're here. Now lets follow tradition." Walter said, leaning in to kiss Y/N. It was a soft and gentle kiss until it started to become more passionate and full of need. Walter pulls away. "You make me act like a teenager whenever you're around, and I love it so much, I never felt like this before."

"Me neither." Y/N said, kissing him again.

The night came to an end, Walter dropped off Y/N at her apartment, kissing her goodnight.

"See you at work tomorrow, my lady." Walter said, bowing.

"See you tomorrow, corazón." Y/N said, she closed the door and leaned against it. This was the best first date ever.

The End

Hope you enjoyed reading it!

Taglist: @shellyshellshell @warriormirkwood @secretdream2

[athenadione]

‘you are mine (and I am yours)’

In which you can find out the hard way that demons don't like sharing. @vi-la-vi

AthenaDione and I did a thing! Everyone loves jealous Damian, but hear us out....jealous Raven? Hope you enjoy! -Vi

I’m so incredibly honored to participate in this collab. Vi practically paved the way for me to give you all the delicious demon Raven smut that ensues and did a superb job writing the majority of this piece, as always. If you enjoy and feel so inclined, you can leave a kudos HERE on A03. Vi— thank you for allowing me to be a part of your writing process. You’re such a talented writer and I’m happy to have found you :) -AD

She couldn’t stop staring at him. Not just because it had been years since she last saw him, but because ever since she met him, Anna Vandergilt had thought of little else. 

Damian Wayne. 

They’d met at a benefit when both were sixteen years old, and it had been love at first sight. The elusive heir finally returned to Gotham after five years abroad, doing god knows what. She’d collected every bit of information she could about him, academic transcripts, tabloids, medical and legal records. Vandergilt influence ran deep and she had no compunction about using it to fuel her obsession. Securing an internship at Wayne Enterprises as Tim Drake’s assistant was just the latest step.

And now he’s here, and I won’t let him get away again. 

Damian had to remember her, the spark when their eyes met, the unbreakable connection they’d made. He didn’t acknowledge it when they were introduced, but that was fine. He was an intense, secretive man and likely just didn’t want to make a scene. 

Green eyes flashed to hers and narrowed, catching her staring. She willed herself to keep it together, sitting up straighter and crossing her legs in an attempt to draw his attention to the slit in her pencil skirt. Blonde-haired, blue-eyed, and leggy, she knew how to make men stare.

Or so she thought. Damian had turned his attention back to Tim’s presentation, arms crossed and expression impatient. So serious. She planned ways she might be able to get him alone, with no one and nothing to distract him from her. After today, I’ll have more than just fantasies. She’d been looking for an opening to approach him all day and was sure she couldn’t wait much longer.

They broke for lunch, but just as she moved towards him she was intercepted by Tim. 

“Hey Anna, can you run up to my office and grab my blue flash drive? I forgot to bring it down earlier.”

Get it yourself! she wanted to snap. An assistant position was well beneath her pedigree, and she hated taking instructions from common-born Tim Drake. Swallowing her irritation, she smiled and nodded. 

When she finally returned, Damian had already gone, apparently having had a lunch appointment with someone else. Anna sighed. I’ll speak to him after work, I’m sure he wouldn’t say no to dinner and drinks. No man had ever refused her.

She spied him later as she was returning to the conference room, speaking to a dark-haired woman she didn’t know outside of his office. She took a moment to admire him in his suit, noting curiously that the girl with him was only casually dressed in black jeans and an off-shoulder top with a band logo. Unprofessional much? He’s probably scolding her about the dress code.

Just as the thought solidified, she leaned up and pressed a kiss to the underside of Damian’s jaw, tugging his tie playfully as she did so.  

It was as though a bucket of freezing water had been dumped over her head. Anna stood stock-still, mouth falling open in horror. Who the fuck...how dare…?

The woman whispered something in his ear, kissing his jaw again as Damian rolled his eyes and smirked. She continued to stare, waiting for him to shove her away, glare, do something. She heard someone approach from behind. 

“Ugh, those two,” Tim groaned. 

“Who is that?” Her voice was tight and strained, and the man next to her gave her a curious glance. 

“That’s Rachel, Damian’s girlfriend.”

“Oh,” she said, at a loss for anything else. 

It’s not fair. I planned...I’ve been waiting…

She shook her head, determination moving in. A minor setback. He just needs to know there’s something better on the market. Vandergilts were practically royalty, after all. Her beauty and breeding were no doubt superior. She bit back her anger as Damian dropped a kiss on the other woman’s forehead before walking away.

Just a minor setback, she mentally repeated.

-

Tim’s assistant had a serious staring problem, and Damian was relieved when he was finally able to retire to his office. Annoying. The older man had joked earlier that Damian’s constant absence in Gotham and avoidance of the public eye elevated him to mythical status among some of his father’s employees. He longed for this week to end, eager to be back in Jump and away from the Wayne gawkers. 

His phone buzzed, distracting him from the revenue charts in front of him. 

“Stephanie is insane.”

Damian smiled, eyes darting to his watch to see how much longer he’d be stuck in this office. As necessary as it was that he be here for the audit, he felt bad abandoning Raven to his siblings. Next time they came to Gotham he’d make sure it was purely recreational and personally show her the sights.

“A half hour more, then I will come rescue you.”

Then two days more, and they would be home. 

A knock on the door called his attention. “Mr. Wayne? Could I borrow you for a moment. I need a second pair of eyes on this file.”

He looked up, raising an eyebrow at the worshipful expression on her face. The scent of expensive perfume assailed him and Damian fought the urge to wrinkle his nose. She looked at him hopefully, blinking rapidly.

“Ask Drake.”

She shifted, reaching up to toy with her platinum blonde hair. “Oh...he just has so much on his plate. I wanted to avoid bothering him,” she replied, voice high and lilting. 

Strange woman. Damian wondered where his older brother had found this one. He hadn’t really been paying attention when they were introduced, Vander-something or other.

He sighed. “Fine.”

“Oh, thank you,” she breathed.

She circled around the desk to stand next to him, laying the file in front of him and bending low. A fall of blonde hair brushed his shoulder and Damian shifted slightly to put some distance between them. He spent so little time in normal society it was easy to forget how bad most people were with personal space. 

“What exactly did you need help with?”

“This.”

Without warning, she sat on his lap and pressed her lips forcefully against his, throwing one arm around his neck for good measure. Damian completely froze, protests firing rapidly through his mind. She tugged on the waistband of his pants and it was enough to break his paralysis. He shoved her off of him violently and she caught herself on the desk, shifting it several inches back.

“What are you doing?!”

The alarm on her face lasted only a second before being replaced with a coy smile. “Don’t be shy, I know you remember me. It’s been years, but you’re all I’ve thought about, Damian. I swear.”

“I - don’t…” Damian felt uncharacteristically frazzled. “I have - no. I’m not interested,” he finally managed.

“Please, Damian.” She tried to take a step forward and he instinctively backed away. He hated the way she said his name, he realized distantly.

“I have a girlfriend,” he said, hard edge in his voice. One who would kill you and probably me if she was here right now. Raven did not share.

The woman sniffed. “Her. Don’t be ridiculous, you’re a Wayne. She can’t possibly-”

“Enough.”

He glared fiercely, daring her to try and continue. Tears swam in her blue eyes and Damian felt a touch of relief that he finally managed to get through.

“I...hmph, fine. Keep her on the side if you must. My father had a mistress. Just keep her out of my sight.”

She’s insane. What the fuck kind of vetting process do you have, Drake?

He closed his eyes and exhaled before meeting her watery gaze once again. 

“Listen very carefully. I. Am. Not. Interested. I want you out of this building in the next five minutes or I’ll call security.”

“I - but - we…” She straightened, eyes glassy with disbelief as she tried to compose herself. “I see.”

Damian kept his glare on as she left the room, feeling a headache build behind his eyes. He grabbed his phone again, feeling a pang of guilt when he saw Raven's name, and called his brother.

"I fired your assistant. You're welcome."

"What? Damian, you can't just show up and start firing people!"

"I'll...explain later." Vaguely, and with as few details as I can manage.

The hint of discomfort in his voice must have given him away. "Seriously? No wonder she was staring at you all day.”

"Drop it."

"Alright, alright. Her dad's going to be pissed though, he pushed Bruce for months to take her on here. Sounds like you got your very first stalker."

Well that was a disturbing thought. Damian shook it off. "Just tell him it didn't work out." He didn't want any rumors getting back to Raven if he could help it. 

-

Lying to an empath is easier said than done.

“There’s something you’re not telling me.”

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

She snorted disbelievingly, eyes glued on the book in her hand. “Why do you feel so guilty?”

“It was a long day. I felt bad for you.” Half-truths were the only semi-effective way he’d found of getting around her lie detector. Normally Damian would smother inconvenient questions with lips, hands, and other parts of him that Raven was always deliciously responsive to, but touching her would have felt wrong right now. She deserved to know the truth before she decided how near she wanted him.

She rolled onto her side then, burrowing down against her pillow and studying him curiously. “You don’t have to spend every second with me, Damian. I’m pretty self-sufficient, in case you haven’t noticed.”

He shrugged, laying back and closing his eyes. “I’ll just be glad to get out of here. People in Gotham are a different breed.”

Raven hummed. “Fine, don’t tell me what’s actually bothering you.” 

With that, she leaned over to kiss him goodnight. Damian flinched at the contact before responding in kind, and pretended he didn’t see the confused look in her eyes. 

“I love you,” he said, focusing the emotion to make sure she felt it as well. 

She closed her eyes, slightly mollified. “I love you, too.”

I'll tell her when we get home, he promised himself. As much as he hated keeping secrets, he knew she was going to be upset and preferred a controlled setting. Damian remembered an incident shortly after they began dating when the ticket-taker at the theater had slipped him her phone number. Raven said nothing at first, but the night ended in a supply closet instead of a screening room.

"I don't share," she whispered dangerously, legs tightening around his hips to draw him in deeper. Red flickered across her purple irises. “You’re mine.”

He smirked at the memory. We never did get to see that movie.

Definitely safer for all involved to wait until they'd left Gotham.

-

Anna stared at her discreetly from the park bench. He’s loyal, that’s all. And I wouldn’t have him any other way.

She grudgingly admitted to herself that the other woman was pretty, if unconventional. Pale purple eyes and dark purple hair - hadn’t anyone told her the punk rock look was out of date? She had nothing on the blonde’s classical beauty.

A hefty bribe to the Wayne's chauffeur had given her knowledge of the woman's - Rachel's - movements throughout the day. She was ordinarily accompanied by Tim's banshee of a girlfriend and one of Bruce's orphans, but had separated from them earlier in the day to visit Gotham’s Arts District. Anna waited until she saw her enter the nearly empty arboretum before making her move. If Damian couldn’t be persuaded to break things off, this one could. An affair with the office hottie - tale as old as time.

“Pardon me?” She adopted a nervous affect as she approached, eyes downcast. “You’re Rachel, right?”

The other woman tore her gaze from the plaque in front of her, violet eyes locking on baby blue. “Do I know you?”

“Anna. I work - worked at Wayne Enterprises. I’m really sorry to do this, but...there’s something you need to know.”

She regarded her silently and the blonde fought the urge to fidget. There's something off about her. What were you thinking, Damian? Finally, Rachel nodded once, crossing her arms. Anna smiled internally and fiddled anxiously with her hands, doing her best to look miserable.

“I was Tim’s assistant until Damian fired me yesterday,” she began, voice weepy. “Tim’s the one who told me about you, I swear I didn’t know before.”

Rachel’s eyes narrowed, something dark and inscrutable flashing in and out of her gaze. “...Excuse me?”

Anna took the low anger in her voice as an encouraging sign and continued. She dropped her eyes again and let out a harsh sob. “I’m not the kind of person who fools around with other women’s boyfriends, and-"

A massive burst of black and red interrupted her thoughtfully planned speech, demolishing the stone plaque next to them and knocking her to the ground. She screamed, covering her head  with her arms. A bomb? What’s happening?

Before she could get her bearings, something hauled her up by the throat, slamming her painfully against a tree. She blinked against the white spots in her vision and the dust in the air, squinting to see what held her. 

Four slitted golden eyes met her own, radiating fury so thick she could almost taste it. I’m seeing things. I hit my head and I’m seeing things. The devil tightened its hold on her neck and stepped closer, heat pouring off its red skin. Terrified beyond anything she’d ever felt, Anna felt her bladder let go. 

“Did you fuck Damian?” it - she - asked in a deadly calm voice.

“Wh-what?” she croaked. No way...what the fuck is she?!

“Answer, mortal.”

She sobbed in her grasp, all her carefully crafted lies flying away in the wake of her terror. “No! I just kissed him!”

The claws (claws?!) around her neck tightened and she felt warm trickles of blood start to seep down into her collar. 

“That - that’s all! That’s all I did! I’m sorry!” she cried, “I’m so sorry! It won’t happen again!”

“I know.”

Shadows wrapped around the two of them and she screamed.

-

Stupid, stupid woman, Damian thought furiously, raising his eyes from the weeping figure on the floor. He’d put it together fairly quickly after walking in the door, and was currently kicking himself for not considering this possibility. She’s clearly deranged, I shouldn’t be surprised she approached Raven.

The woman in question sat in a nearby armchair, looking every bit the queen of hell she was. Her demonic appearance and the regal way she carried herself in this form lent their mundane bedroom at Wayne Manor the feel of some macabre court.

“Something to confess?” his demoness asked lowly. 

“I was going to tell you when we returned home. This is the exact situation I was trying to avoid.” Sparks of black and red magic at her fingertips told him that was the wrong thing to say. 

“You think a couple hundred miles would have saved her from me when I found out? I would cross entire universes.”

The woman before her seemed to curl in further on herself, as if trying to become a smaller target. Prayers fell from her lips, whispered and unintelligible.

 “She’s not worth it. I would have made you see that.”

“That’s not your decision to make. You are mine, this was a challenge to me. A proper demon would have brought just the head.”

A loud wail met her words and golden eyes flicked downwards, oozing contempt. Damian felt a thrill race down his spine. He'd never seen her this angry - possessive. The idea that he was the catalyst, that his composed, serene Raven was burning so brightly over a stolen kiss made his blood tingle. 

Apparently feeling the weight of the demon’s stare, she covered her head with her hands and tried to choke back her cries. A prey-like instinct to hide taking root. 

He swallowed before speaking, mindful of the thin ice he was on. “I know you’re upset, but you can’t kill her.”

An amused sound escaped her, and Damian wasn’t entirely sure how to interpret it. “Beloved?”

She finally met his eyes again, clearly unhappy with the situation. “Fine. But if I ever see or sense this creature near you again, I will tear her apart slowly. Testor ego eam.”

With that, she waved a hand and the other woman vanished in a rush of black. He didn’t bother to ask where, not wanting to push his luck with Raven right now. Hysterical as the other woman was, no one would believe anything she had to say anyways. 

The demoness crossed her arms, studying him silently. She seemed to have no intention of changing back to her human form. Oh. 

“I suppose I’m in trouble as well?”

“Lies deserve punishment. And you need to be reminded who you belong to.”

“You, habibti. Always.”

Her smile offered nothing but trouble and his heart started to pick up. "That’s a start."

“Oh?” he asked her, not moving from the spot where he stood. It seemed that court was still in session, and her final judgement on his own transgressions had not yet passed. 

She picked at a claw unhurriedly, hooded eyes flicking over his figure. Not one to back down, he met her appraising stare inch for inch.

“Did you know that demons mate for life?” she asked without warning. 

“No, beloved,” he breathed. The information was new but it hardly mattered. He had already decided that he was going to spend the rest of his life with her long before they ended up together. He just wondered why she felt it necessary to mention now. 

“It’s a sacred bond. Actually sacred, unlike human marriages. Challenging it is the worst insult one demon can deal to another.” Her eyes narrowed, and her claws seemed to sharpen before his eyes.

“She wasn’t a-”

“No one will threaten our bond. Do you understand, mate?”

Dear gods. 

He resisted the urge to lick his lips, instead pressing them firmly together. “You should know that you will never be at risk of losing me, beloved.” 

“I know. I also know you will never lie to me again.” The demoness waved a clawed hand before resting it underneath her chin. She was waiting for him. He swallowed again.

“What can I do to make amends?” 

Her grin widened, boarding on malevolent, as if she finally found the answer she was looking for. Lifting effortlessly from her chair, she began to stride across the room to him with measured steps. 

“I have a few ideas.” She purred. 

“Oh?” he asked again, displeased at how out of breath he sounded. 

Golden eyes held his own, and she didn’t speak again until she was just an arm's length away from him. 

Then she pointed at her feet. “Kneel.” 

He felt his jaw go slack. She wants me to do what? 

She cocked her head at his hesitation. “You will not kneel for your demoness?” She clicked her tongue in distaste. “Don’t you want to remedy your indiscretions?”

He set his jaw, barely suppressing a wince.  When she put it that way, there was no reason not to kneel before her, even if the thought of doing so went against every instinct in his body. He did, after all, lie to her, and if this was what she wanted from him then who was he to deny her?

Besides, there would be an opportunity for her to return the favor. I’ll make sure of it. 

Revealing nothing, he stared at her impassively and slowly dropped to one knee, biting back a scowl as her smirk grew. 

Then, he watched as a slender leg poked out from the slit of the dress she was wearing, and a strappy, black heel. He gave her a simmering look, then took it in his hands without a word, and pressed a kiss to her ankle, trailing up the side of her calf. 

“That’s very nice, mate.” She murmured, resting a clawed hand onto this shoulder. “What else are you willing to do for me?” 

A light smirk replaced his features. She was asking him to seduce her. To fuck her. That was something he would be more than willing to oblige. 

He promptly stood to his feet and grabbed her wrist, pulling him into his chest. To his amused delight, she went pliant in his arms— nearly purring as he captured her lips with his. He kissed her thoroughly, drowning out the memory of the other gods-awful kiss that’d been forced upon him. 

Then a clawed hand traveled his cheek lightly, moving its way to the back of his head. She suddenly grabbed a fistful of his hair and tugged downwards, tearing his lips from hers. He hissed when sharpened teeth latched themselves on his neck, nipping at the exposed flesh there before soothing it with her tongue. 

Then she began to walk forward, forcing him to step with her— until the back of his knees touched the mattress of their bed. 

“Meus es tu.” She said lowly, and she pushed at his chest, sending him backwards.

It turned into a battle for assertion. One that he admitted he thoroughly enjoyed— and intended on winning. 

He took her with him, grabbing her waist to position her underneath. His smile was smug when he peered down into four golden slits, obviously dissatisfied at the turn of events. 

Ignoring her bared teeth, he nudged open her legs with one knee before settling between them, then rolled against her in one swift movement, taking pleasure in the way she threw her head back with a growl. 

He continued his ministrations, trailing hot kisses down her neck, just as she did to his moments before. One hand reached up to graze her breast as his kisses went farther down the middle of her chest, while his other hand roamed over the swell of her hips. 

Raven in turn, was growing more frustrated with every second he kept her distracted with his teasing, light touches. 

“Enough.” It was a command.

By the time he managed to blink he found himself on his back and she was straddling his waist. 

Her hands encased with her dark magic. “Alliges duplicia.”

His arms lit up with her magic and they were forced above his head. When he tried to bring them back down he was met with resistance. What the hell? When he looked up his eyes widened with realization. She bound my fucking hands to the headboard. 

“Raven.” He snarled in warning, tugging on his bonds. The demoness was unperturbed by his outburst. 

“You will submit to me, mate.” A dangerous red swirled in those golden irises, and he clenched his jaw in response, then bit back a groan when she brushed against his length. 

“Let me go.” He glared. 

“I will not. This is your punishment. You will stay like this until you beg for me.”

“Tch.” 

He detested how painfully hard he was. His erection strained against his trousers, and he couldn’t contain his next groan when she palmed him. 

It didn’t matter how much he wished she’d slip her hand underneath his belt. He would not beg. 

She began to strip slowly, until she was completely bare before him, and then she peeled off his pants carefully— and then his shirt. His full erection was on display for her, and he released a strangled noise in the back of his throat when she settled her heated core against him.

She chuckled darkly when he twitched underneath her. “Say please.” 

“No.” he gritted out, breath hitching when her mouth latched onto one of his nipples, nipping roughly. Her tongue flicked it right after, mixing the pain she had caused with pleasure. 

“No?” Her claws wrapped around his throat, squeezing in warning. “You are in no position to deny me, mate.” 

He just glowered.

“Fine.” She relented, retracting her claws. “You will break eventually.” 

Her fingers lifted to her full breasts, reddened from her true form, and her fingers began to tease one darkened nipple into a tight peak. The bonds went taut when he pulled at them roughly in an attempt to reach out to her. She noticed this and smirked as she teased her other nipple, then rocked against him. They groaned together.

He watched as she then slipped one hand down to her core and began to tease herself, parting her folds before slipping a finger inside while grazing against his cock. 

She moaned, mouth parting slightly and he growled again in protest. That should be his fingers inside of her. 

“If you insist on not obeying me, then I will use you for my own pleasure.” She sunk down onto his cock and his head hit the wall with his groan. Fuck, she felt so damned good and the pace she was setting set him on a steady course towards an impending orgasm, regardless of how much he despised not being in control. 

“Beloved.” He growled when she brought him to the brink all too soon, then slowed back down while teasing her clit with her own fingers. Quick, circling motions that revealed her own need to him— that she was nearing her own orgasm. 

He caught her hitched breath. She was losing resolve, caught in her own wave of pleasure. 

“Release me.” He tugged on his bonds again and bucked his hips into her for good measure. “I want to be the one to fuck you when you come.” 

She gasped and clenched around him, drawing him even deeper. “I will come soon. If you want to fuck me, you must beg now.” 

He cursed. Goddamn her. 

“Please, habibti. I am yours.” 

With a victorious smirk, she waved a hand. That smirk was short-lived however, because as soon as the bonds disappeared he lunged for his little demoness, twisting them both before pulling out of her to roll her onto her stomach. 

“You are mine too, Beloved. I will also make sure of that,” he snarled into her ear, teasing his cock at her entrance. His hands held her pressed against the bed. 

The demoness laughed, then inhaled sharply when he pushed into her with one swift movement. They were both right at the edge, only a few more thrusts was all it would take to throw them both over.

“I can feel how close you are,” He reached a hand underneath her to press his thumb directly against her clit, “Come with me, now.” 

She cried out— a sound that was more animalistic than human, and she fluttered around him. He fell shortly after, nearly seeing stars. He continued to thrust languidly, drawing out their orgasms. Vaguely, he watched as Raven’s skin turned from red to flushed ivory. One pair of eyes turned to peer up at him instead of two, and the color of her irises receded to lavender. 

For a moment he watched her transform, breathless. 

She smiled up at him as her breathing returned to normal and he returned it before dropping his face to her neck. “I’m going to have to make you jealous more often,” Damian murmured into her skin. 

Raven snorted, lifting a hand to run through his sweat-soaked hair. “Unwise. Not only will I definitely kill the next one, it will hurt the entire time she is dying.”

“Green is a good color on you, habibti.”

She said nothing, but he could feel her contentment in the gentle run of her fingers across his hair and skin. As post-orgasmic clarity continued to take hold a question popped into his mind and he leaned up to regard her.

“When were you planning on telling me we were essentially demon-married?”

She flushed. “Eventually. Are you...did you not want…?”

He silenced her with a kiss, letting his actions and strength of his emotions answer her question. As though he could ever give this up, or stomach the idea of either of them being with someone else. 

After all, Damian didn’t share either.

[starrybethany]

I’m Sure - Adam Boqvist Imagine Part 6

Adam Boqvist: I’m Sure Masterlist

Word Count: 3.7K

Taglist: @flowery-mess​ @musiclove-12​

I sit in the lobby of the gynecologist’s office, flipping mindlessly through a parenting magazine. These magazines are so stupid- they’re meant to make parenting look easy and flawless, like nothing could go wrong- spoiler note, they’re wrong.

Your partner could leave you at any moment.

Your child could lie to you.

You could end up unexpectedly pregnant multiple times.

Children aren’t as easy as people like to think that they are. I sigh, throwing the magazine onto the coffee table in front of me and peak at my watch. It’s a minute until the time that my appointment is actually scheduled for. I was hoping to get in earlier to get out earlier. I want to pick Holden up from school and take him to an arcade to relax, since everything has been so hectic lately.

The slow, casual opening of the sliding doors are a sharp contrast to the frazzled, out-of-breath man that runs through them. He pants, looking around frantically at all of the couples staring back at him before locating me.

“Oh good, you haven’t gone in yet,” he gasps, practically throwing himself into the chair next to me and turning his hat around on his head so it’s backwards.

“I thought you were a professional athlete, how are you so out of breath?” I point out, ignoring his comment.

“I’ve been missing my workouts to hang out with you and the boys,” he gives me a flirty smile.

I roll my eyes. “Sorry to be such an inconvenience.”

His smile fades as he looks at me. “Hey, that’s not what I-“”Y/N Y/L/N?” The nurse calls my name at the perfect time.

I jump out of the chair, different from the past couple of weeks where I’ve had to ease myself up due to my growing belly.

“How are you doing today?” The nurse asks as she leads the way down the hallway.

“I’m good, how about you?”

“I’m good, thank you.”

Adam trails behind us as we enter a small exam room. He hovers awkwardly in the doorway as the nurse brings me over to the scale, weighing me and taking down my height. I motion to one of the empty chairs beside the computer and he quickly sits down, an apologetic look on his face.

I can’t help but feel annoyed.

I know he’s new to this and uncomfortable and I should just appreciate him being here in the first place, but holy hell I can’t hold his hand through everything. If he can’t even sit down in a fucking chair by himself, how can I trust him to change a diaper? Or God forbid, if he had to be with the baby by himself?

I’m doubting the man next to me as I take the chair beside him, updating the nurse on my personal information.

“Any concerns?” The nurse asks, typing furiously on the keyboard.

“My back is hurting really bad. With my last pregnancy, I don’t remember it hurting this bad,” I confess, rubbing my lower back as the shooting pain makes its way through my back.

“I will write a note for the doctor. Alright, she’ll be in shortly,” she smiles before leaving.

I feel like I’m practically begging her with my eyes to stay. I don’t want to be left alone with Adam, I know I should get used to it because he sounds like he wants to be involved in the boys lives now, but there’s something preventing me from feeling fully comfortable around him.

“What was it like with Holden?”

His question snaps me out of my thoughts, and I turn my head towards him, making eye contact with him. I feel taken aback every time we make eye contact- it’s like I’m seeing his blue eyes for the first time all over again.

“What was what like with Holden?” You’ve missed out on a lot of moments, you’re going to have to be specific here, buddy.

“Your pregnancy,” he shifts awkwardly. “You said you have more backaches this, uh, time, than you did when you were, um-“”You can say the word pregnant, Adam.”

He clenches his jaw. “Fine. You said you have more backaches this pregnancy than when you were pregnant with Holden, so what else is different? There, are you happy I said it? Pregnant.”

“Whatever,” I cross my arms over my chest, excitement for this appointment ruined by Adam’s shitty attitude. He’s shown me time and time again that he’s still selfish, so tell me again, why am I allowing him to be here?

“Well?”

“Well what?” I question, looking at him in disbelief.

“What’s different?” He asks like I’m the stupid one.

“Oh my God, Adam, I still get nauseous at the smell of scrambled eggs, my feet hurt more when I was pregnant with Holden than with this baby, but this baby makes my back hurt more, and this baby loves to kick way, way, way fucking more than Holden did. There, are you happy I said it?” I repeat his question. “Do you feel like asking about my pregnancy with Holden makes up for you not being there?”

He’s quiet. We sit in this sharp tension for a good five minutes before the doctor arrives, neither of wanting to say anything. Or maybe it’s that we just don’t know what to say.

“Hi, how are we feeling today?” Dr. Rocht questions as she enters the room.

“Hungry,” I respond, dreaming about the local sub shop down the street from the women’s clinic.

Adam gives me a look of disbelief, like he can’t believe that I would even be thinking about food after the fight we just had. But hey, the baby’s hungry.

“Why don’t we have you climb on the exam table so we can get you an ultrasound of this growing baby, huh?” She requests.

I nod, standing up and climbing onto the table, lifting my shirt so that my small bump is in view.

I see Adam’s eyes widen at the sight of it, like he didn’t actually realize that I was pregnant, but I ignore him.

“So did you open the envelope to see what you’re having?” She makes small talk as she preps the equipment.

“It’s a boy,” I smile with the news.

“A boy,” Dr. Rocht repeats with a smile of her own, “Is your son excited to have a younger brother?”

“He is! I think he would’ve been excited either way, but I think he’s really looking forward to having a baby brother.”

She rubs the gel on my lower stomach and I’m silent as I stare anxiously at the ultrasound screen, waiting for the picture of my baby boy to show up.

There he is. With his little button nose, tiny lips, and the outline of his body, I cherish it every time I get to see him. He’s really there- he’s really inside of me. Using my body and the nutrients that I give him, he’s growing.

A wide, cheesy grin spreads across my face as I see him.

“Are you okay there, dad?” Dr. Rocht’s voice snaps me out of the moment I’m having with myself.

I turn to look at Adam, seeing him ball his hands into fists and rub at his eyes, sniffling along with the motion. “Yeah, it’s just, uh, the first time that. I’ve seen this.”

A pane of guilt hits my chest with the way I’ve been treating Adam. He’s been out of his kids’ lives for the past thirteen years, yes, but he’s trying now. And shouldn’t he get some credit for that?

The gynecologist asks me a question, turning my attention back to her. She gives me some advice about how to deal with the backaches and prints out three pictures of the ultrasound. One for me, one for Adam, and one for Holden. I tuck two of them into my purse and give the other to Adam, heading to the front desk to make my next appointment right away.

The blonde man walks past me as I talk to the receptionist, out through the front doors and into the parking lot. My emotions have been all over the place all day- I’m aware of that- but walking away from me after asking me to be involved in your sons lives and crying at the ultrasound just seems downright disrespectful and inconsiderate.

His actions clearly aren’t matching up with his words.

I walk into the parking lot, unlocking my car.

“Y/N.” I look over to see Adam waiting on a bench outside of the building, looking back at me.

“What, Adam?” I question, just wanting to get my sub, eat it, and take a nap. I feel so drained from the last couple of days. Although this may be benefiting my children, this whole process with Adam is entirely exhausting to me.

“I’m looking for an apartment. Here, in Philadelphia. For the next three months,” he informs me.

I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, speaking slowly. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“Why not?” I can tell by his tone that he’s instantly defensive.

That’s why, I want to respond. Because you aren’t willing to listen or understand anything other than your opinion.

“Adam, I just,” I sigh, shifting my purse strap. “Holden still hasn’t decided whether he wants a relationship with you, and I don’t know when he will make a decision. And- and there’s nothing you can do for me or this baby right now.”

“I just came to an ultrasound with you,” he points out.

“And you started an argument with me while in there.” I wave my hands around for emphasis, probably looking like a crazy person but needing to get my point across. “You stress me out. And it’s not good for my health or the baby’s health. I’m sorry, but I think you should return to Chicago. I’ll send you weekly updates.”

I get into my car, knowing that his eyes are following me, but his mouth doesn’t move. He’s finally starting to understand what I’m saying.

~

One of the good things about having a baby bump, beside it meaning that the baby is growing healthily, is that you can balance things on it. Like right now, when I have three stacks of plastic cups resting on my stomach as I carry them from the back to the front.

I set the cups on the counter, bending over to put them away.

“Okay, Y/N, Rachel, Marcella, and I have been talking, and we really like Sebastian,” Lia informs me, sliding her phone into her back pocket.

Marcella asked for the day off and Rachel had to leave early to go to a doctor’s appointment, so it’s just me and Lia this afternoon. It’s fine, it’s a slow Wednesday anyways.

“Who’s Sebastian? Is that the boy you’re kind of dating?” I question. The three girls are texting each other all of the time so they’re always caught up on each other’s lives, but I’m a little slower when it comes to that.

“No, for the second baby,” she beams, “Sebastian is the name of our favorite character from Vampires Defending the Nation. Have you seen it?”

“Nope,” I respond, knowing it’s probably some rip off of The Vampire Diaries.

“It’s so good! You have to see it,” she gushes, “So, have you thought about other names for the baby yet?”

“Not really,” I confess. “I mean, I still have another four months to think about it.”

“Hey, Y/N,” a familiar voice interrupts my conversation with Lia.

I turn around to face the customer, sighing when I see Adam standing expectantly on the other side of the counter.

“What can I get for you, Adam?” I step up to the cash register.

“I found an apartment and paid the down payment today. Just thought you should know,” he tells me.

“So, one large caramel Frappuccino,” I try to keep the annoyance out of my voice as I tap the order onto the cash register.

“And I wanted to invite you and Holden over for dinner tonight.”

“Extra whip, that’ll be an additional dollar.” My fingers jap the register harder now.

“Come on, Y/N, please. Just talk to him for me,” he pleads, pulling cash out of his wallet despite never ordering the Frappuccino.

“It is not my job to fix this for you,” I snap at him, lowering my voice once I notice other customers begin to look at us. “You got yourself into this, you can get yourself out of it. I’m sick of you fucking up and it all falling onto me, Boqvist.”

“Just tell him to respond to my texts, please.”

“It’s like you never hear a word I say,” I shake my head, exhausted from his attitude. “Your total is $5.47.”

He hands a fifty-dollar bill to me and I make sure to avoid contact with his hand, not wanting to end up in the same situation we ended up in last time we were in this café together.

“Keep the change.”

I hand him back two twenty-dollar bills, four singles, two quarters, and three pennies.

Keep the change my ass. Do you think throwing money at me will get me to change my mind?

“Coming right up,” I give him a fake smile, turning around to make his drink.

As I hand him the large cup, he leans in closer to me. I feel like I’m holding my breath, like if I release the oxygen from my lungs it’ll tangle with the oxygen from his lungs and we’ll be connected again.

“Just think about dinner, okay?” He gives me a soft smile before the front door chimes after him.

“Is that baby daddy?” Lia’s voice startles me out of my frozen state.

I nod, not trusting my voice to speak.

“Wow, he is hot,” she exclaims. When I give her a look of disapproval, she adds, “And an asshole. Total asshole.”

~

“Mom,” Holden hollers, stumbling down the steps. I pause Vampires Defending the Nation at the perfect time since Holden stops right in front of the TV.

“What’s up, bud?”

“Adam told me that he wants to buy me the new Halo game,” he states excitedly.

I keep myself from rolling my eyes. First he tries to pay me to talk to Holden for him at the café and now he’s buying Holden’s love by getting him a new video game.

Does this man think that money just fixes everything?

“That’s nice, honey,” I try to give him a smile, but it probably looks more like a grimace.

“And, uh,” he suddenly looks shy, making me wonder what Adam told him this time. I never know with Adam- I can never predict him. “And he told me that he, um, invited us over for dinner. And, uh, I would like to go, if, if you want to.”

I study him. He’s not fiddling with his fingers, he’s avoiding eye contact with me not because he’s lying, but because he’s unsure of my reaction, he’s not biting his lip. He’s not feeling pressured into doing this by Adam, it’s something that he really wants to do.

“Are you sure?” I question, giving him the chance to change his mind.

“I’m sure, mom.”

“Alright,” I pull out my phone slowly to text Adam that we’d be there in an hour, giving Holden the final chance to change his mind.

He doesn’t. And now I have to see Adam in less than an hour, something that I’m dreading, yet somehow deep inside, looking forward to.

~

Adam’s apartment is only twenty minutes away from our small townhouse, but it’s a stark difference to how we live. Whereas the brick outside of our townhouse is from the early 1900s and the paint is peeling (the landlord refuses to pay me back if I paint it myself- and I’m stubborn too, so I refuse to do it for free) while I remember Adam’s apartment building being built last year and there’s a security guard at the entrance who greets us.

I reach out to grab Holden’s hand. I’m not sure if it’s more for me or him, but I think we both need the comfort of each other.

The receptionist gets clearance from Adam to allow us up to his apartment and I hesitantly knock on the fake wood door, stepping back and waiting for it to open up.

It swings open, a beaming Adam Boqvist on the other side. “Glad you guys could make it, come on in.”

We walk into the apartment hesitantly, taking off our shoes.

“So, it has three bedrooms and two bathrooms, I figured a room for me, a room for Holden, and a room for the new baby, and uh, I made spaghetti for dinner,” the hockey player rambles, hurrying over to the stove to stir the steaming pot.

“No room for you,” Holden murmurs, teasingly, nudging my arm with his.

I roll my eyes at that, but his father clearly hears his comment, because he responds, “Oh, I was thinking she would share a room with me.”

Just as I’m about to bite back with a sassy response, he takes the pot off of the stove to dump the boiling water out. I take the time to slyly check out the apartment.

The walls are a stark white- something that he’ll regret once this baby gets into his trouble-making-toddler phase, the appliances are all brand new, and the furniture looks very modern.

Truthfully, it doesn’t look comfortable to live in. It looks like something out of a magazine.

“Dinner’s ready,” Adam announces.

We pile our plates with food, and I take a seat at the table, Holden sitting across from me and Adam sitting next to me.

“A water for you and the baby, a water for Holden,” Adam states, setting a glass down beside each of our plates before taking a seat next to me. “So, Holden, how was school today?”

I zone out as my son answers.

In the seat next to Holden, a girl a couple of years younger than him would be smiling at me. Holden would reach over to pick up the piece of garlic bread that fell in her lap, setting it on her napkin on the table. A high chair would be at the end of the table next to Adam, and in between bites of his spaghetti, he would feed the waiting, hungry baby.

That baby would be an accident. But we would laugh and joke about half of our babies being accidents, not in the way we do now, but in a joking, loving way.

A way that would show, yes, this wasn’t planned, but we’re in this together. We’re always in this together.

It’s what could have been. We could have had a nice house that we designed together, three kids that were by both of us, hell, even a dog. We could have been together. We could have done this together.

“Mom?”

I look at Holden with questioning eyes. He gives me a look of concern, nodding towards Adam. “Adam asked you a question.”

I swallow the lump in my throat, meeting Adam’s eyes. He’s always been good at telling my emotions, and that’s why he can press my buttons so easily. But now he just looks like he wants to comfort me, wrap me in his arms and never let me go.

“Sorry, what did you ask?”

“Are you alright?” He mumbles like we’re the only people in the room, ignoring my question.

“I’m fine, um, the baby’s just kicking me really hard,” I lie, hoping that even if he doesn’t believe it, he’ll accept it.

He nods slowly, a tell-tale sign that he doesn’t believe my lie, but he’ll let it slide. “I asked you who you were working with today.”

“Oh, that’s Lia,” I answer. We make small talk for the rest of dinner, but I feel concern oozing both from the man beside me and the boy across from me.

I just need to get through this dinner, then I can go home and sleep. And sleep. And sleep.

I pull the shoe onto my foot, losing my balance and beginning to tumble forward. A hand shoots out to catch me, steadying me.

“Thank you,” I murmur as I rise to my full height, planting my feet firmly on the ground.

“Gotta be careful, there,” Adam mumbles back, arm still holding onto mine. We stand there in a comfortable silence for the first time in thirteen years. I don’t want it to end, but then I remember that Holden still has homework to do, and I have to do some things before work tomorrow.

“We should get going now,” I state, moving towards the door.

“Y/N, wait,” his voice stops me. I turn around to face him. “Um, I just wanted to let you know that I’m trying. And I know I’ve been saying that for a while and I haven’t really been acting like it, but I rented this apartment, and I cooked this dinner and I’m trying to be there for Holden because I haven’t been there for him.

“And I’m trying to be there for you, too. Not just because you’re carrying my child, but because you’ve been supermom for the past thirteen years. You stepped up when I couldn’t, for the both of us, and it’s just, you just,” he takes a deep breath. “You deserve the world.” I feel something tug at my heart.

“I’m really sorry. I’m sorry for not being there then, I’m sorry for not being here now when I have been here, I’m sorry for everything. And I’m going to do everything in my power to show you how sorry I am.”

I nod, soaking in his words. He’s apologizing. He’s realizing his actions- or lack thereof. And now we just need to see if his actions will match up with this grand speech he just gave me.

“You better,” I say quietly, walking out of his new apartment.

“What took you so long?” Holden asks from his spot in front of the elevator.

“I had to talk to your dad.”

“Was it- was it a good talk?” He questions, eyes asking an unasked question.

I nod. “It was a good talk, Holden.”

[theycallme-thejackal]

Rambles about your heart eyes gif sets.

So the Palladinos supposably write as they go along (which is straight up madness in away) 

I wanna know when Rachel got told that Lenny and Midge where going to Bone/Ball cause as your beautiful set shows in S4 there’s a lot of 😍😍😍 on Midges front.

Twas it when Rachel got ASP drunk before the season or just before the table read….

Anyways you’re make incredible things in all mediums and i thank you so much for your creations 💖

I have always imagined Rachel was told right before they shot their Bellmore scenes. I can imagine Amy pulling her aside and Rachel just being in like her wig cap and half makeup and Amy saying “by the way, Midge and Lenny are gonna bone by the end of the season.”

But also…I always go back to the look she gives him in 1x03. You know, when they’re at the desk and she starts to turn and leave? Rachel…come on. That was a “You’re cute and we have banter” look. Nothing platonic about it.

And maybe that just speaks to the insane amount of chemistry Rachel and Luke have as actors, but…I think Amy has been intending for this to happen since the moment they decided to make Luke recurring. She just didn’t let Rachel in on it because, well, she didn’t need to. The chemistry is so palpable it didn’t need much directing.

As much as I complain about ASP in general, I think she’s brilliant. I mean, Luke/Lorelai wasn’t supposed to happen either, but she was like, ‘you know what, they have insane chemistry. We’re gonna do it.’ And now she’s doing it for midgelenny too.

It had to have happened around the time they were filming “Everything is Bellmore” because every look she gives him is flirtatious or heart eyes, and also…it’s their first episode together since Miami. There’s still got to be the energy of what if?

ALSO Lenny has seen her perform before. Both with and without her knowledge (Vanguard, Gaslight, Miami), and this is the first time his presence has made her nervous. Coincidence? No fucking way. This is a guy she has discovered she likes as more than a friend, and he’s about to watch her perform when she’s just barely gotten back on her feet.

PLUS we have Luke on record saying that he has very strong feelings about whether Lenny is in love with Midge. And, well, his heart eyes speak to what his answer must be.

Something tells me Amy let Luke in on the whole thing somewhere around season 2. Mainly the look in “All Alone.” Again, you know the one. As @wonderlandleighleigh so brilliantly put it, it’s his “I love you and I’m sorry” look.

I can, however imagine Amy going, “Man she’s not gonna be happy about this, but if I get her good and drunk it’ll be fine.” They may write as they go, but they definitely outline their seasons.

Anyway, this was a very long post and thank you for your sweet compliments 💕

[shannyh25]

When Gilbert is given the opportunity to tutor is cousin Katie over the summer,he is more then excited to jump at the chance Katie is struggling in school and hardly passed her grade at the end of the year. Katie is also excited about Gilbert being her teacher, but scared to. What happens when Gilbert and Katie are over at Anne's house and Uncle Abe's storm prediction came true?

Please let me know when you think!

Chapter 1

Gilbert Blythe stood nervously in front of the school board. He was holding his hat in his hands and fiddling with it, trying to keep his hands a little busy while the school board talked over why Gilbert called the school board meeting.

Gilbert was sitting in one of the front row desks of the school house and was trying not to stare at the three people up front.

He went over to Rachel Lynde's house last night asking her if she could get the school board together the next day or so. He said it was important and he told her why and what he had been planning to do.

Rachel was silent for a moment and then gave Gilbert a grin. "I think that is mighty generous of you Gilbert. I know you had your heart set on teaching at Avonlea School. You told me that you wanted to teach here as soon as you graduated. Now you're changing your mind and wanting to withdraw your application? Is that correct?"

"Yes ma'am. I want to give Anne the school. She wants to be closer to Marilla and help her out with the farm and chores. Marilla helped Anne and took her in and Anne wants to return the favor and help her out. Especially with Marilla's eye site not doing so good." Gilbert said.

Rachel patted Gilbert's hand and smiled, "You're a fine young man Gilbert Blythe. You're sacrificing on being close to home and help your folks out and saving money for medical school like you wanted to. Instead, you're giving up the chance to let Anne teach in Avonlea. I'll make my rounds to the School Board this very evening and you can meet us in the school house, let's say 10:00 tomorrow morning?"

"Yes, ma'am and thank you. I want to give you this too so you can show the rest of the board. It's my letter and signature withdrawing the application for Avonlea School. I already have a teaching job at White Sands School. I start in September." Gilbert said giving her his letter.

Rachel took it and quickly read it and then folding it back up, she smiled at Gilbert. "I can see your mind is made up. Very well then Gilbert. I shall go immediately to Reverend Allan and Mr. Bell's house this evening and tell them to come to the school tomorrow morning. See you then Gilbert."

"Thank you, Mrs. Lynde." Gilbert said.

Sighing with relief, Gilbert went back home.

That's how he ended up here in the Avonlea School the next morning. Rachel, Reverend Allen, and Mr. Bell were talking in whispers about Gilbert's offer to Anne. He was antsy and anxious on what they would say to him.

"Gilbert son, please come up here." Mr. Bell said.

Gilbert came up and stood in front of the board. Rachel gave him a small wink and a grin and he knew that meant yes. But he kept it cool.

"We understand that you want to give the school to Anne Shirley, right?" Mr. Bell said.

"Yes sir. I'm not changing my mind either. I spoke to my parents and they agreed I can give her the school. I'm not backing out of this. It's more important for Anne to be near home and close to Marilla. It's my gift to Anne." Gilbert said.

"Well, I can see there is no sense in talking you out of your decision. Very well then Gilbert, Anne Shirley can be the new Avonlea School teacher for the next two years. Here is our letter with all our signatures on it saying it's hers. Good luck to your teaching in White Sands. I hope you won't forget Avonlea that easily." Mr. Bell said.

Gilbert took the letter that Mr. Bell had written and he also took back his letter, he thanked them and gave Rachel a quick grin saying thank you. Another wink from Rachel, Gilbert slipped out of the old school for the last time.

"The school board accepted my offer in giving Anne the school. She can have it for two years." Gilbert said with a grin.

Gilbert's father John smiled as he set down his coffee mug. "Congratulations, Gilbert. I saw you going over to Rachel's house yesterday evening and your Ma told me you wanted to call the school board together. We are both proud of you."

"Thanks Pa. I just hope Anne accepts it and doesn't think of it as a charity matter." Gilbert said.

"Anne might not accept it at first, but she will once you explain why you're wanting to give her the school. You're sacrificing a lot son by giving Anne the school. I hope you know that. I'm not trying to guilt-trip you. I think what you're doing is might kind of you. Just be sure to tell Anne this act of kindness isn't charity." John said.

"You're not guilt-tripping me Pa. I thought long and hard and I even spoke to Diana Barry about giving the school to Anne. Diana thought it was nice and sweet. Diana also told me I was sacrificing but I assured her I know what I was doing and she promised to keep this a secret." Gilbert said.

"Diana won't tell a soul. As far as Anne knows, you're still teaching at the Avonlea School. Diana and Anne were talking about it yesterday afternoon. Diana told me that Anne will be perfectly happy staying at home helping Marilla and she will do her study college courses in the evenings." Gilbert said.

"It sounds like Anne has her future set. We have some news to tell you. Aunt Chelsea wrote to me last week. She mentioned that you wrote to Katie telling her you will be her teacher in the fall at her school.

Gilbert was just getting ready to head out the door to go and see Anne. He was excited to deliver the good news about giving her the Avonlea School.

Gilbert was halfway down the stairs when he heard his mother call him. He hopped down the two steps and his mother looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I wish you wouldn't jump down the last two stairs like that. You'll trip one of these days and fall flat on your face. I need to talk to you for a moment. Are you heading out?" His mother asked.

Gilbert grinned. "Yes. I was going to deliver the good news to Anne about her having the Avonlea School but it can wait though. What's on your mind?"

"Your Aunt Chelsea wrote me yesterday. She told me that you had mentioned you were going to be Katie's teacher this year for school. Katie is excited but scared too. Has Katie mentioned to you that she was having trouble in school?" Isabelle asked.

Gilbert thought for moment. "No, not at all. What does this have to do with me though?"

"Aunt Chelsea wants to know if you would like to tutor Katie this summer. She barley passed school this year. She got D-'s and C-'s. Occasionally a C+. Her teacher took pity on Katie and passed her onto the fourth grade. Katie is having trouble in math, spelling, writing, and reading/reading out loud. Aunt Chelsea offered room and board instead of paying you money for tutoring Katie, you can stay at their house during the school year instead. That way, you can save money for medical school. Plus, you will be able to help Katie after school in the evenings and you and Katie can spend more time with each other. Aunt Chelsea doesn't want to put pressure on you though. She is having Katie bring along all her school work, her slate, and her writhing tablets with her school books just in case. Aunt Chelsea wants you two to have a fun summer."

"Of course, I'll help Katie!" Gilbert said.

Isabelle smiled at Gilbert. "I knew you would. Just don't be too hard on her but be firm and strict if you have to be though. I'll go up to the spare room and gather up all your old school supplies. Including an old chalk board and pointer you can use, with your old school books, papers and Katie's. I'm sure you'll find some wonderful lesson ideas."

"Thanks Ma. When will they be here?" Gilbert asked.

"Two days so I have a lot to do." Isabelle said.

"That doesn't give me a lot of time to gather up ideas and write out lesson plans. I need to get on that right away as soon as I get back from Anne's. Oh, I can't wait. This will be fun!" Gilbert said.

"Send Anne my love and congratulations to getting the school. Maybe Anne can help you come up with some lesson plans ideas for Katie." Isabelle said.

Gilbert grinned. "Absolutely. I'll be back in less than an hour. I have to prepare!"

Hugging his mother and grabbing his hat, he made his way out to the barn.

Gilbert rode his horse Primrose down to Green Gables to give Anne his exciting news. One was about giving her the Avonlea School and the other was that Katie was coming to spend the whole summer with him and his parents.

Gilbert was coming down the hill when he saw Anne walking back from visiting Mathew's grave. He saw her put her hand over her eyes to see who was coming down the hill.

As he got closer to her, he slowed his horse down and Anne stopped walking. Gilbert got off his horse and was holding the reins so she can graze on the grass while they talked.

"Hello, Anne. " Gilbert said

"Hello, Gil. What brings you out this way?" Anne asked.

Anne saw Gilbert pull out an envelope and she looked at him curiously.

"I have a few things to tell you. But first, I want you to read this." Gilbert handed her the envelope and she looked at him.

"Open it." Gilbert said.

Anne opened the envelope and quickly looked over the letter. Gilbert's eyes never leaving Anne's face. He was watching Anne's expression anxiously. Not sure how she would react to this piece of news he gave her.

What felt like forever, Anne finally looked up at Gilbert.

"You're-you're giving me the Avonlea school? But why Gil? You need to save money for medical school. I can't accept this. I have plenty to do to keep me busy." Anne said.

"I can't go back to the school board again. I already signed the paper work. My name is signed already. Please accept this, Anne. Let's say this is a thank you for finally speaking to me and we can be friends." Gilbert said.

Anne looked at Gilbert and a small grin appeared on her face. "I don't know what to say expect thank you for giving me the school Gilbert. I had plenty to do at home. I came to peace with my decision on not teaching. I was going to study at home and help Marilla with the farm. But this, this a gift and I can't tell you how appreciative I am."

"I know how much Marilla and Green Gables means to you Anne. Marilla helped you and took you in when you needed a home and a family. Now you're wanting to do your part and help Marilla. That's why I did what I did. I wanted you to be close to Green Gables. I'll still be teaching. Just at White Sands where their school is. My little cousin Katie will be in my class." Gilbert said.

"Oh Gil. I can't let you sacrifice your medical school just for us. You need the money for medical school which why I didn't take the Avonlea School. So, you can be close to home and stay with your parents while you teach." Anne said.

Gilbert grinned. "Will you hush up Anne. That's what else I wanted to talk to you about. I have been writing to my cousin Katie since she left to go back home at Christmas time. I told her I was planning on giving you the Avonlea School. I had planned on teaching at White Sands. When Katie said she goes there, I got even more excited. Katie told her mother, my aunt, about me teaching at White Sands. My aunt offered me to tutor Katie this summer in school. Katie has been struggling in four subjects. Math, reading/reading out loud, spelling, and writing. My aunt asked me to tutor Katie this summer, I can stay at my aunt and uncle's house during the school year so I can save money for medical school. That way, I can also tutor Katie as well in the evenings after we get home from school. So, you see, I'm still going to save money just like I planned. Only difference is, I'll be teaching at White Sands and staying at my aunt and uncles house instead of my house." Gilbert said.

Anne looked at him letting this information sink in. "Are your parents okay with you giving me the school? You'll be away from them for so long. You were planning on helping them on the farm on the evenings and weekends."

Gilbert groaned. "It's all worked out Anne. I promise my family is okay with this. I'm not turning back now. I can't with my cousin needing my help in school. I'm too excited to turn this opportunity down. I'll be helping my cousin in her school work for the next two or three years and tutoring her every chance I get. She struggled this year in school. She barley passed. She had D+'s and C-'s which isn't passing. I plan on getting her to B+'s and A-'s by the time my teaching career is done. I'll need help though coming up with ideas. You're better at that then I am. What do you say Anne? Will you accept my offer on giving you the Avonlea School?"

"Yes Gil. Only if I get to see Katie this summer." Anne said with a grin.

"Absolutely. " Gilbert promised.

"Katie has been writing to me too since Christmas time. Her writing can use a little work, and spelling." Anne said chuckling.

"How come you didn't tell me Katie was writing to you too?" Gilbert asked.

"Katie asked me not to tell you. I wanted to respect her wishes. She said she is excited to see you this summer, but also scared that you're going to be her teacher. Katie will have anxiety Gil. She is going to be shy towards you when you first start teaching her. Don't be too hard on her on the first morning of summer school. Especially if she doesn't want to eat breakfast. If I hear that you force fed that child again like you did last summer, I swear Gilbert Blythe I will break a dozen slates over your head and have Katie break another dozen slates. I won't accept the school if you pull that stunt again. Anne said.

"I have only done that once and my mother just reminded me again. She threatened that I won't teach Katie this summer and make sure that you will be teaching her instead. I know Katie will be scared of me being her teacher. I will be strict and firm if I have to. She needs to eat breakfast though Anne. If she doesn't, she'll be hungry. I can't have her eating a snack during class when school actually starts. That wouldn't be fair to the other children. I will expect her to eat breakfast in the mornings. Even when she visits us. She knows I am strict with her and I don't let her get away with much. I'll try not to lose my temper though." Gilbert finished.

"I know you're going to be in charge of her most of the time she is there during the school time hours. Just remember she will be shy and scared of you being her teacher so go slow. Baby steps. I have to go home now. But I'll write a list of ideas for you to work on with Katie. I'll drop them off tomorrow. Gil? I want to thank you for giving me the school. This means more to me then you know. I'll make you proud and I'll make sure that you won't regret giving me the school" Anne finished.

Gilbert grinned. "I don't regret giving you the school Anne. It was meant to be. This will work. We'll make it work. I need to go too. I promised mother that I will help get the guest room ready for Katie. I need to find all my school books and slate. I need to make lesson plans, tests, and quizzes to see where Katie is at. I have a lot to do. I'll walk you home though. You can tell Marilla and Rachel the good news."

Anne grinned and she allowed Gilbert to put his arm around her shoulder to walk her home with his horse Primrose walking behind therm.

[sammykhwrites]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Glass Scientists (Webcomic) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Edward Hyde/Dr. Robert Lanyon, Dr. Henry Jekyll/Dr. Robert Lanyon Characters: Dr. Henry Jekyll, Edward Hyde (The Glass Scientists), Dr. Robert Lanyon Additional Tags: Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Porn with Feelings, Spanking Summary:

Lanyon found out about Hyde, and Henry's told him everything. It's time for Lanyon and Hyde to 'talk' out their remaining issues.

"You know he's too busy to fuck you."

Lanyon glared, Hyde smirked.

"Just saying." Hyde added with a shrug to rub it in. "You're better off moving on to someone else."

Lanyon was silent a moment, thinking before he spoke. Hyde raised a brow as Lanyon looked him over.

"You're him, right?" Lanyon asked finally. "Technically speaking. Same body and mind?"

Hyde rolled his eyes, and turned to hide the blush that was beginning to warm his face. "How are you still not getting it? You both had that long boring drunken talk all about it. You even cried, that was funny."

Lanyon gave a small smirk of his own, earning a glare from Hyde. "So you were watching."

Hyde fidgeted, this conversation not going remotely as planned. "So what? I only thought it would end in drunken sex, not be a snoozefest the entire time." Hyde stood up to glare at Lanyon more directly. "Fuck this! We all know how much you hate Mr. Edward Hyde!" He sneered, shoving his hand into Lanyons chest. "Because I'm the worst parts of him. You can pretend all you fucking want but you have never made your hatred for me a secret!"

Lanyon stumbled back as he was shoved, and caught Hyde's wrist before he could be shoved again. Lanyon smiled, further pissing off Hyde, who began trying to yank his hand out of Lanyon's grip. "That was before I even met you. Do you know how frustrated I was only ever hearing about you? Seeing only the damage you caused and never anything else?"

"Yeah? Well that's cause I hated you back! You just existed to ruin my fun, of course I would avoid you as much as possible!" Using Lanyon's grip on his wrist as leverage, he pulled the man closer. He grinned his best Spirit Of London grin, "I very much enjoyed torturing his psyche enough to let me out. I even sent him waking nightmares after you convinced him to sell me out!" Hyde felt his anger spike as Lanyon only laughed, and he raised his fist. Lanyon caught the hit before it could land, spun and pinned Hyde to the wall, smirking.

"What's so fucking funny!?" Hyde seethed as he struggled.

"Now that I know you, and who you are, I just realize that I was jealous. You were in his will, Rachel always spoke the world of you, and I only chose to see the destruction, that you thought you could do whatever you wanted, and fuck up anything Henry ever worked for. Now I know that it's much different. You have never had to deal with any consequences, have you?"

Hyde settled, fists clenched beside his head where Lanyon held him. He smirked. "That was Henry's job to deal with."

"Precisely what I thought." Lanyon said, moving his head closer. "It's time someone taught you a lesson." He said with a low tone into Hyde's ear. Hyde swallowed, his heart pounding as his anger was ripped from him in favor of a heat reminiscent of the night Lanyon first met him. He looked up and met Lanyon's piercing eyes, and pushed forward, pressing his lips to Lanyon's. The kiss was rough, but passionate as Lanyon reciprocated, pinning Hyde with the rest of his body as Hyde's heart pounded harder. He didn't have a chance to speak as Lanyon pulled away,  and yanked him from the wall by his wrists, shoving him against the work desk. Hyde pushed himself up against the desk to protest but was pushed forward, forced to bend over the desk. Lanyon leaned over him keeping one of Hyde's arms pinned behind his back, his breath tickling the back of Hyde's neck, eliciting a shiver. "Would you like to pay for your crimes Edward?" He whispered, "Or would you like to continue talking this out?"

Hyde squirmed under Lanyon, panting as he tried to keep up with the anger, and the arousal. Lanyon held him in place, waiting patiently for an answer. Hyde scowled as the urge to tell Lanyon to fuck off became a sole urge to tell Lanyon to fuck him . "Do your worst." Hyde consented with a snarl. Fucking was way more fun than talking anyway.

Lanyon began unbuckling his own belt with his free hand, and pulled it loose, ignoring Hyde's impatient squirming. He set the belt next to Hyde's head, just in view, as he then worked on undoing and pulling down Hyde's pants.

Hyde let out an anticipatory whine, giving no more fucks as he succumbed to lust.

“Not yet.” Lanyon said, earning a huff from the man under him. “I’m not going to just give you what you want. You’re going to take your punishment, and get what i’ll give you.” He grabbed the belt, and traced it over Hyde’s bare ass, a warning.

Hyde squirmed, “Get on with it you prat- ah!” He cried out as the belt was struck across his ass, and he felt Lanyon rub the sting away, before landing another strike, eliciting a hiss. “C’mon, you can hit harder than that.” Hyde taunted, smirking. As requested, the next hit had him yelling out. “Ah, hahh, shit.” Hyde panted, free hand gripping the edge of the desk.

Lanyon chuckled. “Just so you know, I do intend on wiping that smirk off your face.”

“I’d love to see you try Robert.” Hyde snarked, and cried out again as the belt cracked against his ass again. “Ghh! Hnn~”

“I see you looking in the mirror, Is he watching?” Lanyon asked, rubbing the sore spot, loving the way Hyde squirmed under his hand.

“Heh, you bet he is. Ghh, Bastard’s enjoying every-every second too.”

Lanyon leaned down again, “ Good .”

“Mmn, no-not fair! You-you both can't gang up on me like this! Gah!” Hyde cried out again at another crack of the belt.

“What is he saying?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know- Gahh! Shit! Ow! Okay!” Hyde cried out as Lanyon landed three consecutive strikes.

“Indeed I would.” Lanyon mused, as Hyde’s free hand rubbed his ass.

“He said...hhh, he said it's really hot to see us like this. You and your strong hands holding me down while I do nothing but squirm and shout." Hyde was blushing furiously as he spoke.

Lanyon set the belt down to run his finger through Hyde's wild hair. "Good boy." He praised.

"Excuse me?!" Hyde protested, his blush deepening, and his squirming resumed in ernest. "You do not get to treat me, The Spirit Of London At Night, like a dog ! Ow!" Hyde's tantrum was interrupted by another strike of the belt, and further resulting complaints were met with more.

Lanyon knew he wouldn't be able to keep this up much longer, his own arousal growing uncomfortable. "Enough of that." Lanyon ordered, striking again when Hyde continued to rant. "You know what, I'm going to strike you until you admit to being a good boy for me."

"Fuck you, like tha-Ah! Like that would even-OW! Shit, it's not going to work! Shit !" Hyde tried to resist, but the quicker hits just increased the pain, and soon he could barely stay in place on the desk, Lanyon even having to restrain both his arms to keep his hand from getting in the way of the belt. Hyde began to grimace, and yielded soon after. "Fuck, okay! Hhh okay I'm..."

Lanyon set down the belt, "Go on~" he prompted, smacking with his bare hand when Hyde hesitated too long.

"Ghh, i'magoodboy." Hyde mumbled, turning away and mouthing 'Not' to Jekyll.

“Was that so hard?” Lanyon purred as he pulled Hyde up by his arms, looping his belt around them to keep Hyde restrained. He leaned into Hyde's ear. " I know I am~"

Hyde moaned, and Lanyon pulled him close, wrapping an arm around Hyde's waist.

Hyde squirmed as Lanyon ran a hand up his shirt, feeling along his skin resulting in a slight ticklish sensation, and couldn't help but tilt his head as Lanyon began sucking a hickey into his neck.

Patience was an omitted word in Hyde's vocabulary, proven by needy noises and failed attempts to buck his restrained hips. "Too fucking slow!" He complained, tugging at the belt holding his arms behind his back, and fighting Lanyon's grip. " Get on with it!"

Lanyon tsked, "Forgotten who's in charge already, have you?" He asked as he unbuttoned Hyde's shirt idly.

Hyde hissed as Lanyon bit into his neck, the actions going straight to his groin. "Fuck!"

Lanyon began grinding against Hyde's ass, teasing while also indulging his own arousal. He groaned into Hyde's neck, taking in the moans and impatient grunts up close. Once he was sure a dark bruise (that no doubt would last a week) was formed on Hyde's neck, he pulled away, and began dragging him to Jekyll's bedroom, leaving his trousers and underwear. behind.

" Finally!" Hyde muttered despite making Lanyon have to drag him and throw him into the bed. Hyde grinned, laying on his side, as Lanyon began to remove his clothing, looking the man up and down hungrily. "...I agree, he should give us a little show."

Lanyon smirked, and slowed his movements, letting his sleeves fall into the crooks of his arms, showing off his shoulders as he unbuttoned the shirt and his cuffs. He shrugged out of the shirt, facing Hyde as he folded it, and set it aside. "How are your arms?" He asked, unbuttoning his pants and leaving himself bare.

Hyde rolled his eyes. "Fine, it's my ass that needs attention."

"Oh, does it?" Lanyon asked. "I can find another belt."

"You know what I mean!" Hyde protested."Stop fucking around and fuck me already!"

"Hmm, once again Edward, you are forgetting that you're completely at my mercy." Lanyon mused as he undressed completely and walked over to the bed, grabbing Hyde's arm to position him so he was laying on his back on the pillows. Straddling him, Lanyon pressed his lips against Hyde's once more, his hands trailing over Hyde's torso. Hyde returned the kiss with fervor, moaning as he tried to get Lanyon to move his hands lower, pushing his hips up to no avail.

"Do you really think you deserve to get what you want?" Lanyon asked, breaking the kiss and pinning down Hyde's hips.

Hyde glared, a whine escaping him. "I deserve whatever I want!"

Lanyon chuckled, rubbing Hyde's thighs. "How about this, I give you what I think you deserve, and you just lay here and take it until I'm ready to let you cum."

"Ha! I can handle anything you can do to me!" Hyde boasted, grinning.

"Can you? I guess we will have to see." Lanyon mused, before caressing Hyde's cheek. Just looking into his eyes reminded Lanyon just how much he fell in love with them.  "Beautiful." He murmured, leaning down.

"The fuck are you get-Mm!" Hyde's protest was cut off by Lanyon's gentle kiss. Lanyon's touches turned soft and gentle. The blush on Hyde's face brightened and he squirmed impatiently. He gave a few muffled protests that Lanyon ignored, so as an attempt to get Lanyon to be rough with him again, he bit at Lanyon's lips.

Lanyon hissed, jerking back at a particularly painful bite, holding his lip, and Hyde smirked. "Get on with it if you don't want to get bit." Hyde snarked, pushing his hips up.

Lanyon only chuckled, and grabbed Hyde by his hair to force his head to the side. Hyde let out a pleased little moan, only for it to turn into a frustrated whine as Lanyon began to kiss at his neck, leaving gentle little pecks along the sensitive part of Hyde's neck.

Hyde gave a frustrated groan, tugging against the belt holding his arms together and trying to turn his head. Lanyon only licked along the sensitive stripe of skin.

"Lanyon!" Hyde growled, impatience only growing, and his squirming shifted into struggling.

"Do you want me to stop?" Lanyon whispered, kissing Hyde's flushed cheek.

Hyde glared. "No, I want you to give me more!" He snapped. "I want you to have your fucking way with me, manhandle me, something! "

Lanyon brushed a strand of hair that stuck to Hyde's cheek, out of his face and around his ear, before kissing along Hyde's jawline.

"Hello!? Are you even listening!?" Hyde protested, continuing to struggle until Lanyon had to pin his shoulders down to avoid a collision between shoulder and lips.

Lanyon shoved down his frustration, used to the easy compliance he'd get from Jekyll. Instead, he just smirked down at the pissy man beneath him. "You expect me to give you what you want for misbehaving?" He asked in a low tone, smirking at the shiver that went through Hyde. "If you think acting up will give you what you want, then you're wrong. If you want something from me, you beg for it. And even then, I may just continue doing what I want."

Hyde opened his mouth to snap at Lanyon, but was foiled by the shot of arousal he got from Lanyon's words, and a moan escaped instead.

"That's more like it. Now be a good boy and take what I give you." Lanyon ordered, before moving to kiss at Hyde's collarbone.

Hyde huffed through his nose, lying still for only a moment as he tried to keep his anger in place, and to fight the thoughts asking why Lanyon was even being gentle with him in the first place. He glanced at the mirror, and knew Jekyll was thinking the same. It seems they both expected rough play, and were trying to figure out why.

Hyde flinched as Lanyon moved lower, kissing at his ribs, and Lanyon paused. "Did I hurt you?" He asked.

Hyde shook his head with a pout. "I wish you did." He huffed. "Instead of stopping yet again. Spare me the welfare checks and hurry up! I've been hard for ages and you're taking your sweet fucking time!"

"So you are enjoying the soft treatment." Lanyon mused smugly, as if he couldn't feel the occasional twitch as he ran his hands over Hyde's body or licked at one of Hyde's sweet spots. Same body, same sensitivities.

Hyde's reactions may have been different than Jekyll's, but the way Hyde turned away from Lanyon and mirror after every soft moan that escaped every time Lanyon pulled a gentle shiver from a soft touch here, a light lick there.

Jekyll was ticklish, so it made sense that Hyde was too.

Lanyon teased at Hyde's ribs, the man below's argument dying as he squirmed, subtley trying to move from the ticklish sensations as Lanyon went over them.

Finally, just before Lanyon moved to kiss at his hips, Hyde had enough. "Stop!" He shouted, Lanyon sitting up at the shout to meet the furious eyes. "What the fuck are you even doing!? Stop being so gentle, and-and soft and ghhh it's driving me crazy! You're taking forever! You're supposed to be rough, make me bleed! Bite and scratch and beat me! Why the fuck do you insist on dragging this out when you can get us both off and be done with this!?" Hyde ranted, jerking furiously against his restraints.

Lanyon caressed Hyde's cheek, keeping it in place despite Hyde's petulant attempts to bite him. "When was the last time you were cared for? Really cared for."

Hyde switched to confusion, surprising Lanyon by thinking about the question. "Wha-what do you mean? I don't need to be cared for, I can care for myself!"

"I'm sure you can. You're a capable man. But I mean really cared for."

Hyde found himself unable to answer, and he squirmed in place, unable to look at Lanyon nor the mirror.

"Not even Jekyll has treated you this gently, has he? I know that man is terrible at caring for himself, so I know it must extend to you."

Hyde began to fight to sit up as a new emotion grew suddenly, and he glanced at the mirror to see Jekyll failing to hide his guilt and shame. "I-I don't..." Damn his tongue. Too many things too feel at once. He snatched his frustration back to glare back at Lanyon. "I am a creature of the night, I don't deserve  soft treatment!"

"Mm, see, that's where I disagree." Lanyon hummed, helping Hyde sit up while staying straddled. "I think you need someone telling you they forgive you. That you deserve kindness. And a gentle touch." Lanyon wrapped his arms around Hyde in an embrace, and resumed gentle kisses to Hyde's neck as he spoke.

Hyde was stunned. He didn't know how to react other than a soft shiver as his neck was kissed. His chest tightened and he squirmed in Lanyon's arms, but had no protests left. It felt...nice. Hyde found himself relaxing despite his constant arousal.

Lanyon drew out several more moans from Hyde as he continued the gentle foreplay a bit longer, before finally giving in to his own need, before grabbing the lube and spreading Hyde's legs.

Hyde bucked his hips impatiently, "Yes yes finally! Please just let me cum." He begged, though trying to sound pissed. It wasn't fair how nice it felt to be touched so gently. Even as Lanyon began to work him open, instead of just shoving himself in like Hyde was quite used to.

Hyde actually cried out sensitively when Lanyon flipped him over and pushed inside him, and leaned forward to press gentle kisses onto his neck. To say he was lost in pleasure would be an understatement. He was so used to one night flings and rough, kinky sex. He wasn't used to...feelings, and gentle touches, and how much he didn't want to admit just how good it felt.

His climax came slow, but it lasted longer than Hyde expected. Next thing he knew he was waking up in Lanyon's arms, untied and wrapped in a blanket.

Lanyon stroked Hyde's hair as the man came to. "You okay? You were crying by the end there." He asked, smiling when Hyde grumbled and actually snuggled closer.

"I don't cry."

"Sure you don't."

"But it...may have been...a decent time." Hyde said, sounding like the words physically burned to say.

Lanyon chuckled. "Next time we can go rough if you want. I know that you might like it better that way."

"I mean...once in a while...maybe, we can...do it likethisagain.." Hyde admitted.

Lanyon smiled. "My pleasure."

[monstersandmaw]

Male vampire x male character - Part Two (nsfw) (Halloween ‘surprise’ Patreon story).

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

I'm really pleased that you and my Patrons enjoyed the first part, and that folks were keen for more. I’ve had more interaction with this post on Patreon than many of the others, which is surprising given how mlm stories are usually much less in demand than m/f ones. Thanks for that!

Anyway, here's more of our favourite oblivious dork Alec and his obviously-not-a-vampire crush... Part Three is on the way too (tomorrow), despite this having been planned as a quick porn-without-plot one-shot, as it were. Oh well?!

Hope you enjoy.

Part One

After his initial - admittedly strange - meetings with Sebastien, Alec didn’t see him on campus at all for the rest of the week, and he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that. Yes, the guy had been a bit of a pompous arsehole in the library, but he’d made up for it by coming to the art room and apologising, engaging him in conversation — even if that conversation had been slightly… odd? — and being so god-damn-fucking beautiful too.  

He overheard his students gossiping about ‘Dr. Dulac’ earlier that afternoon while they all carved the pumpkins he’d bought for them at the local supermarket, and it seemed that the general consensus was that Sebastien was single, unfailingly polite (even in the face of Janette Hilton, the English Department’s longest-serving and least sympathetic lecturers), hotter than any celebrity you cared to name, and a specialist in the poets of the First World War like Sassoon and Brooke, among other more esoteric interests.  

After an hour of clock-watching in his tiny little office in the Art Department on Friday, he abandoned all hope of concentrating on his last few bits of admin, and shut down his laptop. After clearing up yet more pumpkin seeds that he’d somehow missed on the last two sweeps he’d done of the studio, he stepped outside, never wanting to see another bloody thing again. Too bad he had a whole bloody cardboard box of them waiting to go into the boot of Kay’s car for her party that night. Still, he was almost sinfully proud of the carvings he’d done on them. One was decorated the whole way around with the foliate style engravings usually reserved for the steel on antique guns, with different depths to create the highlights and shadows, and another particularly spherical one had been cut away in squares to resemble the Death Star.  

The October air outside bit into his lungs as he drew a deep breath - the spicy, fragrantly damp scents of autumn filling his nose - and his eye was drawn to the twinkling lights of the little coffee cart that still lingered in the park, selling tea, coffee, and hot chocolate to chilly students leaving the university campus for the night. With a black coffee for himself in one hand, he made his way to the Engineering Department, warily holding another frothy concoction in his other. It was apparently called a ‘London fog’ and it smelled of earl grey tea and lavender. He thought it sounded (and smelled) disgusting, but Kay perked right up when he deposited it on her desk five minutes later.  

“Bless you, Alec Twayblade,” she grinned, taking the plastic lid off and inhaling it like it was the best thing she’d ever smelled. “Oh my god. How can you not like this?” she said after taking a huge gulp and moaning obscenely.  

Alec didn’t bother to reply, his eye-roll speaking volumes anyway. They’d had this discussion so many times that they were both probably playing it out silently in their heads right that second. When Kay glanced up and saw that he certainly was, she snorted and grinned. “I love you, Alec,” she laughed. “You’re still coming tonight?”

“Against my better judgement,” he growled, leaning his weight on her desk and folding his arms across his battered, blue cable knit sweater. He had a huge daub of yellow paint on one elbow from that morning, and a small burn hole in the bottom from a failed attempt at pyrography a few years ago. It was the most comfortable jumper he owned, and he would probably wear it until it unravelled around him.  

“You’re still not going to wear a costume, are you?” she added as she stood, pouting.  

He shook his head. “I draw the line at that.”

“But you’d be so good making one!” she countered. “You helped me with that bat costume when we were at high school… Don’t you remember how fucking awesome it was?”

“I do,” he chuckled. “But I’m not going to wear one myself.”

She sighed, shoulders slumping. “Too much attention, huh?” she said softly. “Well, you know you’ll stand out more if you’re not wearing one tonight…?”

He shrugged. Honestly, he just couldn’t be bothered to dress up. Halloween had rather lost its shine for him anyway. “Not if I hide in the kitchen all night and make too-strong cocktails for everyone,” he said, flashing her his most roguish grin. “Plus, I spent much of today carving pumpkins with nattering eighteen year olds who are far too old to be carving pumpkins on academic time, but —”

“— you’re an awesome teacher who understands the need to let off some steam on the holidays,” she interjected. “Plus, it’s good practice anyway… working with a new medium…”

He allowed his lips to pinch upwards into a tiny smirk and let her have that one. “It’s nice to see them having fun,” was all he said.  

An hour or so later, just as he arranged the last of the pumpkins down the garden path of Kay's Victorian semi-detached house, a voice murmured from behind him, “I can see the hand of a master at work in these carvings.”

Not having heard anyone approaching, Alec jumped, cursed, and dropped the pumpkin - thankfully with the candle still unlit. It rolled in a semicircle until a black boot gently stopped it, and a familiar face dipped into view as the owner of the boot bent to pick it up. To his surprise, it was Sebastien, and he was in costume. Probably anyway. Hopefully? Fuck. Alec’s brain stalled at the sight of him.  

His eyes raked up Sebastien’s body and his jaw went quite literally slack.  

The slender man was wearing thigh-high boots and leather pants so tight they had to have been spray-painted on, into which was tucked a loose, old-fashioned, white shirt with a good bit of flounce at the collar. “Holy shit,” he whispered, and Sebastien chuckled softly, a low, amused sound in the back of his throat.  

“You recognise the costume?” he asked, seeming innocently amused. The long, dark coat, accented with gold brocade and bright gold buttons, opened briefly in a soft gust of wind that made the lit pumpkins flicker and lifted his loose, silver-white hair back for a breath as well.  

“I…” he swallowed. “Uh, you’re Alucard,” he croaked. “From the Castlevania games…” A wry incline of Sebastien’s head told him he was correct, and then Alec blurted stupidly, “Shouldn’t you be shirtless though?”

Sebastien’s smile grew from pleased to deeply amused, his eyes glittering, and it was only then that Alec noticed the contacts burning a bright gold in his eyes and, as his lips peeled back and Sebastien began to laugh, he saw long, tapering, white canines befitting a vampire costume. “It’s a little cold for that, don’t you think?” Sebastien asked, still laughing quietly as Alec flushed crimson.  

“Sorry,” he blurted. “I know. I just… forget it.”

“Where do you want it?” Sebastien asked, and Alec’s poor brain went blank.  

“What?”

“The pumpkin,” Sebastien deadpanned and Alec’s poor, blank brain melted out of his ears with embarrassment.  

“Uh… there’s fine,” he said, pointing at the little wrought-iron garden gate.  

Sebastien placed the pumpkin down on the flagstone path so that the carved graveyard scene glimmered and flickered with appropriate spookiness, visible to anyone approaching along the quiet, suburban street. Enormous London plane trees stood sentry every few paces, heaving up the tarmac pavement with their roots, like a sleeper shifting a blanket with a restless turn, and sheltering the cars snuggled and parked beneath them. A carpet of leaves clung to the gutter in a long, golden line, melting into nothing in places in the glittering puddles. It would have been beautiful, had Alec not been faced with quite literally the most beautiful thing in the entire universe.  

“Am I early then?” Sebastien asked, dusting off his palms and turning back to face Alec, who had barely managed to make his legs work long enough to stand up straight again.  

He shook his head. “No. Henry’s inside already,” he said, running his fingers through his scruffy black hair. “With Rachel and Alison. I just forgot to put the pumpkins out earlier.”

“No costume?”  

With a roll of his eyes, he shook his head. “Nope.”

“Too bad,” Sebastien said, eyeing the front door. The contacts were really creepy, shifting in the light that spilled down the stairs as the front door suddenly opened and Kay stepped out before he could worry that he’d been the only one to dress up. He could probably brush it off anyway, Alec supposed, and tried not to envy the man’s quiet confidence.

Silhouetted starkly against the hall light, with her high ‘Dracula’ collar on prominent display, Kay shrieked with glee and clapped her hands when she saw Sebastien. Apparently the two of them had been getting along rather well, while Alec had sequestered himself away in the Art Department like an ascetic.  

“Bastien! You look amazing oh my god!” she blurted, rushing forwards a step or two before halting abruptly. “Wait, does that make me your father for the evening?” she cackled. “Wow, your teeth are really good! Mine wouldn't stay in for more than a few minutes…”

Sebastien’s gold eyes flickered sideways to Alec but it happened so briefly that he almost missed it. “Custom made a long time ago,” was all he said. “Shall we go inside? It’s freezing out here.”

“Yes, of course, come on in,” she said, waving them all inside, Sebastien first. As Alec passed her last, she slapped him hard on the backside in rebuke and hissed, “Told you you should have worn a costume! You look like a big dumbo!”

“No different from any other night,” he quipped back, and she growled something indistinct at him. Perhaps a werewolf costume would have suited her better. “You could have told me you’d invited Dulac…”

“Why?” she retorted. “So you could suddenly decide that an evening moping alone with your PS4 playing Rocket League with strangers was more appealing? No fucking chance. Get inside. Sebastien’s right; I’m freezing my tits off.”

The distant murmur of voices in the living room made him veer off instinctively into the kitchen, and while they began to watch some old Hammer horror film, he made drinks. That, at least, he was good at.  

Entering a while later, he found that Sebastien was seated on the sofa beside Henry, who wore an enormously fluffy wolfman costume - mostly a repurposed Chewbacca onesie with a latex wolf mask. He’d pushed the mask up onto his head in order to eat the Halloween themed nibbles on the coffee table, and the effect rendered him entirely ridiculous. Another reason not to wear a costume: it’s impractical, and gets in the way, and washing ketchup out of matted fake fur is a nightmare. Alison and Rachel sat practically in each other’s laps, one a zombie and the other a ghost, both squeezed into one groaning old armchair.  

After half an hour of Christopher Lee’s admittedly creepy Dracula, Alec slid from his seat at the periphery, and ducked out again into the kitchen. Straightening from fishing a beer from the back of the fridge, he heard the soft click of the door and turned to find Sebastien standing there.  

“Get bored with late 1950’s horror too?” Alec asked. “Beer?”

Sebastien inclined his head in a way that said he wasn’t a beer drinker and held up his almost-empty wineglass as an excuse as he moved a little closer. “If you don’t like cheesy horror films, and you don’t seem to like Halloween either, I wonder why you came at all tonight?”

“For Kay,” he said, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. “She loves this shit.”

At that, Sebastien paused, a delicate smile on his face. In the soft glow of the under-cupboard lighting, his tanned skin seemed to shimmer, and Alec wondered fleetingly if he’d put some kind of glittery body powder on. Next, he wondered what on earth Sebastien was doing in here with him, looking at him like that.  

“You are a good friend,” Sebastien said quietly, seeming perhaps a little sad around the edges.  

“She’s done more than her fair share of looking after me,” Alec sighed knowingly. “Not that I’m doing it because I owe her,” he added, twisting the cap off the bottle and leaning back against the counter to drink deeply from it. As the malty froth washed over his tongue, he felt eyes on him and looked over at the other man.  

Sebastien tilted his head slightly to the side, the false golden light in his eyes making him look like a cat in the dark. “You said she was trying to set you up with someone…”

Alec snorted, nearly shooting beer out of his nose. “Yeah. Well, she seems to think a good fuck will sort my mood out.”

“But you think otherwise?”

“You offering?” he asked bitterly, taking another swig and feeling uncharacteristically bold, though absolutely not expecting the answer he got.  

“Perhaps.”

His eyebrows shot up and this time he did cough a little. “You can’t be serious.”

“You think someone who looks like me is entirely straight?” he asked with a wry smile, and Alec had to hand it to him. Not many men he knew could pull of long, luscious, white-blond hair like that, or would have the confidence to wear fucking thigh-high boots and whisper-tight leather pants…

“Still… you don’t really know me… That’s all I meant…”

“Doesn't mean one couldn’t engage in — how did you call it? — ‘a good fuck’. Not that I’m averse to getting to know you better, before or after.”

Alec swallowed another enormous gulp of frothing beer and blinked. “You’re serious?”

With a melodramatic smile that revealed his vampire teeth clearly, ‘Alucard’ purred, “Deadly.”

And Alec burst out laughing. The spell was shattered and the two men shared the remnants of their drinks and their laughter together before Alec sighed. “Your place or mine?”

At that, Sebastien seemed to falter, as if he hadn’t thought through to that point. After a moment’s hesitation, he said, “I assume yours would be alright?”

Alec shrugged. “Sure, if you don’t mind smacking your head on the ceiling and being able to touch two opposite walls at the same time…”

Sebastien’s lips hitched into another wry smile. “I’ve fucked in tighter spaces, I’m sure.”

“You know what?” Alec said as he rinsed out the beer bottle at the sink and half-turned to look at the other man over his shoulder. “You’re absolutely not what I expected.”

“Nor were you,” he shot back, still smirking. “And it’s been a while since I was assaulted by someone in a library.”

“Bring back happy memories, did it?” he snorted.  

“Not exactly,” Sebastien murmured, and Alec realised he hadn’t actually been joking. “But I must confess that — despite my behaviour — I was pleasantly surprised by the sight of you when you rounded that bookshelf…”

Turning, Alec approached him cautiously. If he was genuinely serious about his proposal, Alec would find out now. “Pleased enough to seek me out afterwards…” he said, raising his eyebrows. He couldn’t do that ‘one brow at a time’ thing that Sebastien could, but it seemed to get his tone across all the same.

Unusually for Alec, Sebastien had an inch or two on him in height, and as Alec paused in front of him, close enough to catch the faintest hint of a woody cologne, the man angled his face just perfectly for the light to dance along his high cheekbones. Fuck, he was exquisite. The urge to kiss him rose in Alec; to feel his lips against his own, to have those elegant hands scrunch his hair…  

As if reading his mind, Sebastien slowly, carefully, raised his right hand and brought his index finger to Alec’s chin, tilting it upwards just a fraction with the lightest pressure. The intensity in his eyes was almost too much, and it left Alec breathless. Again. Panting slightly, he parted his lips and then swallowed thickly.  

Sebastien’s eyes darted instantly to the motion of his throat and for a second, Alec could have sworn he saw a vibrant red light reflected in his eyes. Sensing his moment of hesitation, of tension, Sebastian frowned. “What?”

“Nothing,” Alec breathed. “I thought your eyes went red but it must have been a car on the street outside or something.”  

“Indeed,” he murmured, but then blinked rapidly. “Do you still wish to continue this?”

“Yes,” he whispered. Don't stop now. His whole body was thrumming in a way it hadn’t ever before with casual encounters. He felt alive for the first time in months.  

Sebastien stepped back, turning his face away a little more. “Should we make our excuses…?”

Alec shook his head. “Nah, Kay will know what’s going on anyway, and I don’t want to face her smug looks until tomorrow at the least.”

With a softly amused chuckle, Sebastien stepped back and allowed Alec to leave the room first. The hair on the back of his neck prickled as the other man followed behind, but he didn't turn around or look at him until they were outside on the main street.  

“It’s a bit of a walk…” Alec said, only realising then how long the walk would be. “I’m way over on the other side of town by the station…”

The continuing intensity of Sebastien’s scrutiny was beginning to shift from a turn-on to just marginally unnerving, but he told himself that an esteemed professor at one of the country’s finest universities, with more letters after his name than anyone his age had a right to possess, was unlikely to be truly dangerous for a one-night stand… right? There was something about the way he stared at Alec — an unmistakable hunger in his eyes — that made his skin prickle and his heartbeat jump instinctively. Like a deer before the gaze of a tiger, he was entranced.  

Unexpectedly, Sebastien’s easy stride slowed at the brick gateway to a small, gravel park that sat between an old church and a chemist, the latter closed at this time of night. “May I kiss you?” he breathed, still gazing at him unblinkingly, as though Alec were the pretty one in this equation, not him.  

Alec couldn’t help grinning. The way Sebastien’s eyes bored into him then drove all thought of threat and fear from his mind, and he nodded.  

The man’s hands were chilly from the night air, but the moment they cupped his jaw and drew Alec toward him, he forgot about that. He forgot about everything at the meeting of their lips. Sebastien began tentatively, merely brushing their lips together, but when his golden eyes fluttered closed, he deepened the gesture, tongue just begging entrance, teasing him before withdrawing, retreating and returning.  

Searing want shot down Alec’s spine and he arched into Sebastien’s taller body, hips seeking contact through his jeans. He moaned, deep and guttural, and it seemed to awaken something in Sebastien, because the man grabbed hold of the back of Alec’s hair and pulled his head slightly to one side to begin to kiss along his jawline, down to wards his neck. For a heartbeat, Sebastien froze there, nose pressed to his rabbiting pulse point, his teeth just grazing skin, before he exhaled harshly and stepped back. “We shouldn’t get carried away,” was all he whispered, stepping slightly out of Alec’s dazed field of view. “My place is nearer though.”

“Ok,” Alec said, still reeling. “Sure.”

When they reached the apartment building, his steps faltered in amazement. “You live… here?”

A slight flush seemed to warm Sebastien’s cheeks as he stepped up to the main doorway, only to have it opened from the other side by a man in livery. “Good evening, Monsieur Dulac,” said the friendly doorman instantly.  

“Good evening,” he replied. “This is my friend, Alec Twayblade.”

It was impossible for the doorman not to realise that his ‘friend, Alec Twayblade’ was going to be a little more than that for the night, but he never let a flicker of judgement pass across his face. From the concierge desk - Sebastien’s building had a fucking concierge desk too - another man looked up and wished them both a good evening as they headed for the lifts.  

“Does the English department also sell diamonds or drugs or something? How the fuck can you afford a place like this on a lecturer’s salary?” but even as he said it and the doors closed with a soft chime, he realised the truth of it. Sebastien’s aristocratic features and bearing were not merely a persona. They were truth. He stared up at him while Sebastien turned a key in the lift panel.

“Are you secretly royalty or something?” he whispered, only half joking.  

The man shot him an amused look and shook his head, silk-white hair whispering against the rougher wool of his costume coat. “No, of course not, but I do have some inherited wealth.”

Some? “So you don’t actually have to work at the university at all then?”

He made a so-so motion of his head and said, “No, not really, but I genuinely enjoy teaching.”

“Your students certainly seem to enjoy you…”

“You don’t enjoy teaching?” he asked as the numbers on the dial climbed and climbed.  

Please don’t say you live in the fucking penthouse too, Alec thought, already suspecting it might be true from the whole ‘special access key’. He glanced at the number pad and saw that the button labelled ‘PH’ was illuminated. Fuck. “Most days I enjoy it,” he admitted. “But I kind of fell into it a while back and just sort of…” he shrugged, “Stuck with it.”

Sebastien asked no more, and the lift finally stopped on the top floor. The doors drew back to reveal an apartment beyond that Alec could only gawp at. It was like something from the set of an Architectural Digest photo shoot. Nothing was out of place in the hardwood floor paradise, with clean, crisp lines and white marble counter tops in the kitchen off to his left, while a comfortable, and yet still clinically modern, sitting area sat to their right. Deep, fluffy rugs dotted that part of the penthouse, and a wide balcony stretched out over the city beyond, complete with a little table and chairs for warmer evenings.  

“This place is incredible,” Alec breathed, the reason for his even being here completely forgotten.  

Clearly sensing that, Sebastien smiled bashfully and said, “Would you like something to drink?”

Alec cleared his throat and hoped he wasn’t going to be faced with a choice between very expensive wines that he’d never heard of. “Sure… thanks.”

“White, red, beer, or whisky?” he asked, walking towards the kitchen and dumping his ‘Alucard’ coat over the back of a white sofa as he went. Alec’s mouth went dry as he watched the point where his narrow hips met the flowing material of the white shirt. Dear god, an arse like that shouldn’t be… well, it just shouldn’t be. And yet there it was. Clad in leather and looking positively delectable. “Or a soft drink?” he added when Alec remained silent.  

Aware of where his gaze had landed, Sebastien halted and looked back over his shoulder, long, loose, naturally straight hair already losing the curls that had been worked into it for the Alucard costume. Definitely not straight, if he owned hair curlers.  

“Uh…” Alec said, unsure what the question had even been now.  

“I’m going to pour myself a whisky, if that helps…?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Sebastien smiled, looking almost endeared by Alec’s inept stuttering. Surely he couldn’t be unused to such a reaction? “Make yourself at home then.”

With a smoky, peat-tinged whisky in a wide, heavy-bottomed tumbler set on his glass coffee table, Alec watched Sebastien turn the gas fire on, and, to his surprise, he came to a halt directly in front of him. Setting his own whisky down on the table with a deliberate, and yet delicate, clunk, Sebastien turned back to him and raked his eyes down Alec’s body in a way that made him flush hot all over. His cock twitched with interest and he tried not to preen under that gaze.  

Sebastien’s eyes and teeth were back to normal now, with no hint of the golden contacts or the vampire fangs, and Alec fleetingly assumed that he must have removed them at some point between getting the whisky and appearing in front of him looking like he was about to ravish him. Oh dear god, please let him be about to ravish me, he thought with a big, dumb grin spreading across his face.  

Seeing his reaction, Sebastien reached down and knelt facing him on the sofa, running his palm over the already-growing bulge in Alec’s jeans. Alec let out a deep grunt and rocked his hips up into the contact, throwing his head back against the soft, open weave of the white fabric. “Oh fuck,” he hissed.  

Sebastien’s fingers found the button of his jeans and deftly undid it, but he paused. “May I?” he asked, and Alec found himself nodding before he’d even worked out what Sebastien wanted.  

He found out a moment later, when his jeans were around his ankles and Sebastien was kneeling on the floor between his knees and licking a long stripe up the length of his rapidly hardening cock.  

“Oh god,” he panted as the wet heat of Sebastien’s mouth engulfed half of his length and then drew back to leave his wet tip exposed to the slight chill of the apartment air. The contrast stole his breath for a heartbeat, but Sebastien returned his attentions to his cock, gently sucking and working him to full hardness in a matter of minutes.  

Pleasure sparked through Alec’s whole body and he strained not to thrust back into Sebastien’s mouth, even as Sebastien took him right to the back of his throat, the tip of Alec’s cock nudging against the silky resistance of his throat.  

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” he chanted as Sebastien’s fingertips just teased and caressed the underside of his balls too, and Sebastien hollowed his cheeks and sucked a little more insistently. “Oh fuck…” Really fucking eloquent here, Alec, he thought vaguely, but one look down at the vision kneeling between his legs and sucking him off drove even that thought from his brain.  

The suck and slide of Sebastien’s mouth was incredible, and while he had no idea quite how much time passed, it felt like mere seconds as the heat stoked in him until he could feel the orgasm threatening to crash through him. “I’m… I’m really close…” he gasped as Sebastien moaned against his cock, sending little vibrations thrumming through him and tipping him even closer. The sharp prick of his teeth every now and again was a perfect counterpoint to the slick heat of his mouth, and it was never enough to hurt. Normally Alec wasn’t one for including teeth in this, but with Sebastien, it felt perfect.  

Sebastien pulled back just as Alec felt himself beginning to coil up, his lips swollen and glistening from the exertion of bringing him that close, and he smiled. He looked radiant, and Alec’s cock twitched enthusiastically in his hands as he let out a soft whimper. The air was cold and his tip beaded pre-come freely, which Sebastien thumbed away with a surprisingly tender gesture, only to watch as more pearled immediately at his slit. Using just the tip of his tongue, Sebastien lapped at it delicately and Alec’s whole body shuddered.  

His thighs shook at the tiny, intense stimulation, with Sebastien's fingers gripping the base of his cock in a tight circle, and he gasped, chest heaving. It was too much and not enough, and as he found his perineum teased as well, he bellowed and trembled. He was half a heartbeat away from coming harder than he could ever remember coming in his life, and Sebastien wasn’t going to let him have it. He roared and ground his teeth, bucking his hips, which made Sebastien laugh softly.  

“Alright,” he heard him murmur, before he swallowed him down to the back of his throat again, and Alec shattered with a yell.

When he finally blinked his eyes open, he found that Sebastien had risen and was sitting on the small sofa beside him, whisky in hand, staring openly at him. He didn’t look smug exactly, but there was a quiet satisfaction to his brown eyes that made Alec flush, at which Sebastien’s beautiful lips drew back into a smile. He noted again those slightly larger canines, but they were nothing like the vampire teeth he had worn earlier.  

“What do you want?” Alec asked, voice hoarse. God, he sounded wrecked. Had he really shouted so hard he’d made his throat sore?

Sebastien’s dolorous, dark eyes crinkled slightly at the corners. “What do you want?”

“To watch you come,�� he said immediately.  

“And how would you like me to come?” Sebastien replied, sipping nonchalantly at the golden liquor as if the were discussing what Alec would like Sebastien to wear. As it was, his leather pants were constricting his obvious hard-on in a way that had to be painful for him, and his shirt was open at the neck to reveal delicate collarbones and a glimpse of his beautiful olive skinned chest.  

He was an absolute vision. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he blurted in a whisper before he could stop himself, and to his surprise, Sebastien laughed. The sound was bright, delighted, and oddly self-conscious, as if he hadn’t been expecting a compliment like that. “Sorry,” he added, looking away. “Look… if you’ve got condoms, I’m… I’m good to… you know…”

“You want me to fuck you?” Sebastien asked, his gaze sharpening again.  

“Yes?”  

“’Yes?’ Or ‘yes’…?” Sebastien asked, seeking clarification.  

“Yes. But I don't understand your question.”

“Look at me,” Sebastien said.  

“Hard not to…” Alec quipped back, still feeling utterly wrung out.  

“Most people assume I’m going to be the one taking it…”

Alec’s eyebrows rose as realisation settled. “Oh. And, what, I look like a top?”

Sebastien’s lips twitched. “Conventionally more so than I do, with your rugged looks and the rough shadow around your jaw…”

“So… do you want me to… you know…? Or…” Fuck, he felt like a teenager again, struggling to articulate himself and not get his sentences in a tangle while this breathtaking creature just sat there and watched him make an idiot out of himself.

“I very much want to fuck you,” Sebastien said at last. “If you’d like that as well.”

“Yes,” he said instantly.  

Sebastien set down his glass and rose in a single, elegant motion, and then held his hand out to Alec.

His skin was still cool, especially next to Alec’s searing body, and his hold was steady as Alec heaved himself to his feet and allowed himself to be alternately tugged and kissed into the bedroom. 

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Part Three

Behold, plot has appeared to go with the Halloween porn I had planned. Alec’s family will come up in the next chapter.

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I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me  know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

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