#the club of having no idea where to even begin fixing your mistakes

[fellhellion]

Literally gnawing on that one bit of emotional honesty from Miguel where he hears Gwen helplessly say she has no idea how to fix this - and that’s what shakes him - giving that wry reply about her joining the club

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

Hey, I've been thinking about James with the reader who's super tall, and she's super insecure about it. Then one day one of James' friends mentions the reader's height, and then she feels bad

(sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language)

hii, sorry i took a while with this one; thanks so much for requesting! and no worries at all! your english is great, but it also wouldn't matter if it wasn't 🤪 even though it feels like it by now, it's not my first language either lol but isn't it just a lovely tool for us all to fantasize together 🫶 hope you like it! wasn't sure if you wanted the comfort after the angst, so i just wrote it in

pairing: James Potter x reader word count: 2.1k tags: angst, fluff, established relationship, insecure fem reader, not proofread sorry

You’re going out with James and the gang, and you’re excited for a fun night out. Until the dreaded dilemma you face every time you dress up: heels or no heels? You know from past experience that all your girlfriends will be wearing them. They range from Lily’s kitten heels to Marlene’s stilettos, but it’s always a little something for the special occasions. 

The problem is: you’re tall. Very tall. Taller than all your friends with their heels on. When you wear them too, you look like a giant. You’re also taller than your boyfriend, James, but it doesn’t usually look that off… if you’re not wearing heels. When you do, you tower over him.

But you like the shoes, for some occasions. You’d like to just be able to wear them without its being a big deal. You’ve tried so many times to convince yourself that it isn’t, that you should just do whatever you want and care less what people think about you, but as soon as you’re out, they stare, and you feel awful. 

You have a pair you think are really pretty but have literally never worn because of the significant height boost they give. You put them on, take them off, again and again, indecisive. After about the tenth time donning them, you look in the mirror and decide to go for it. What’s the worst that could happen? Short girls probably feels self-conscious about their height too, right? Everyone has something, you encourage yourself as you step out your door. 

You’re all starting the night at a nearby pub where you all meet up. When James sees you, he lights up, giving you the warmest hug. His face nuzzles easily into the crook of your neck from the height difference then he kisses you adoringly. “Hello, gorgeous,” he grins. “You look especially beautiful tonight.” He’s always so cheesy. You always love it. 

“Thanks, Jamie,” you blush back. “You too.” 

“Well, I have to look nice to stand next to my girl, don’t I?” He stands tall next to you, posing, though he’s quite shorter than you. You roll your eyes smilingly at his antics and intertwine your arms. He squeezes your arm in his and leans up for a peck.

You’re all soon standing around a tall table as you catch up, having your first drinks and discussing where the night should take you. Mary brings up another nearby pub, cosier than this one, and Remus seconds the idea. Marlene boos dramatically and argues you can do that any other night. She suggests a rather rowdy club, and Sirius drumrolls the table in excitement. 

“I like that idea,” he surprises no one in saying. 

“I don’t know,” Mary pushes back. “Last time we were there, we got separated, and it was so crowded, it took ages for us to even find each other again.” “Easy fix tonight,” Sirius begins, grinning mischievously. “If we get separated, we all meet back up at Y/N. She’s like a homing beacon with those heels on! We’ll be able to see her over the crowds.” Your stomach plummets. Some of your friends are laughing, others not so much, but you, you are mortified. You feel clammy and frozen, like there’s suddenly a wide distance between you and everyone else. You want to just disappear, go home and not have to hang out with anyone ever. 

Only Lily seems to notice your discomfort, impressive given you’re giving your very best efforts to hide it even though you feel absolute shit. 

“He’s an idiot,” she whispers in your ear. “Don’t listen to him. You look great.” You turn to respond but are surprised to find trying to speak raises a knot in your throat. You can’t imagine how much more embarrassing it would be if you started crying at a stupid joke, so you just given her a strained smile and look down, trying to compose yourself. 

Everyone else has been caught up in the conversation moving on, so it’s a little while before James turns to you, noticing your quiet, your downward gaze. “Y’alright, love?” he whispers, a hand coming to the small of your back. 

“Fine.” You repeat the strained smile, hoping it’s getting more convincing with practice. 

“Sure? You seem upset.” “‘M fine.” You don’t sound fine. “Thanks,” you add, trying to lighten the tone. 

“Alright,” he says, though he doesn’t sound convinced. “So what do you feel like doing?” “I don’t know… Maybe something where we’re sitting?”

“Sitting?” he laughs, thinking you must be joking. When you cringe, he realizes you aren’t. “Oh, uh, why?” Then, looking like a cartoon lightbulb has just gone off above his head, he asks, “Are your shoes hurting your feet or something? I don’t understand how you lot wear those things.” 

“No, I —“ you begin, but quickly realize that could be a good, believable, non-embarrassing — well, at least less embarrassing — excuse. “Um, yeah, a bit.” 

“Oh, well we can find places to take breaks whenever you want. Don’t worry, I’ll go with you to sit as often as you like,” he smiles. 

You just smile back, though it doesn’t reach your eyes. When he’s not looking, you crouch down a bit awkwardly to be the same height as your friends around you. You try to keep this up, but after a while, it’s hurting your back, so you fall in and out of the pose for as long as you can stand it. 

The night goes on, a destination eventually decided upon, a compromise in the end. Most of your friends seem to be having a good time, but you have been quiet all night. You haven’t been able to shake the feelings of discomfort and self-consciousness that joke sparked in you. You just feel sad. Not to mention your back is killing you from constantly trying to look shorter. 

“James, I think I want to go home,” you say into his ear. He turns to you, his eyebrows raised in surprise. 

“What? So early? What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, I’m just not feeling so well.” 

“D’you feel sick? Have you had too much?” he asks, lifting his drink. You shake your head. “Your feet hurt?” he guesses again. 

“A little. Look, it’s fine; it’s not a big thing, I’m just tired, okay?” You’re tense and pained and just want to get out of here. You feel the tears welling back up, and you’re keen to leave before the waterworks. You give James a quick kiss, adding “Don’t worry! Have fun! I’ll talk to you tomorrow!” in an off, fake enthusiasm then bolt to the door. 

As you leave, you’re walking so quickly that you bump into some random bloke. 

“Oh, shit, sorry,” he chortles then starts full out laughing with his mate next to him. You push past him. 

You have no idea what he was laughing at. Maybe they had been laughing before you bumped into him. Maybe they were just completely pissed and needed no reason. But your already self-conscious brain immediately feels like they were laughing at you, at how much taller than them you were. 

You can’t help it now and start softly crying as you walk a bit further down then lean against the wall. The ease on your back feels nice, but you wish you could just teleport home. You hide your face in your hands, not wanting people to see you crying. 

So you don’t notice James approach you until you hear his worried, low voice. 

“Hey, sweetheart, what’s going on?” He grabs your wrists ever so gently and, holding your hands to his chest with one hand, brings the other to wipe your tears. “Darling, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

You see how scared he is and know ugly scenarios are running through his mind. You want to reassure him quickly but you can’t get yourself together. The guilt of the real reason you’re so upset being stupid in comparison makes you feel even worse, and you sob as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and hug him tightly. 

“Hey, hey, it’s alright, love, it’s alright,” he coos, holding you close and petting your hair. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?” You step back a bit, wiping your face aggressively and shaking your head at yourself. 

“It’s stupid, Jamie, really I’m fine,” you muffle.

“I just want to help you be okay. Whatever it is, you can tell me.” You look into his beautiful eyes, the worry in them shining through. You love him. You hate worrying him. And talking to him about anything always makes you feel better. 

“I’m just too tall,” you confess. “What?” he seems genuinely lost. 

“I’m too tall,” you repeat, more softly this time, looking at the floor in shame. 

“Too tall? Baby, what’s brought this on?” 

“It’s stupid, I know. I just, I can’t stop thinking about it since Sirius made that joke.”

“What joke?” “‘If we get separated, just look for the giant,’” you misquote sarcastically. 

“Oh, darling. All night you’ve been upset? I’m so sorry I didn’t do something. I thought you were just a bit tired or something.” “I’m so embarrassed,” you whisper. 

“You shouldn’t be,” James says, with more bite in his voice. “Really, you shouldn’t. Not at your height, not at your feelings. Fuck, baby, I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.” He pulls you into a warm hug as you shake your head. He just holds you a long time, till your breathing is even and slow again, then pulls back, keeping his arms around you. 

“Hey,” James whispers. “Hey,” you whisper back. 

“I hate seeing you sad,” he says through a comforting smile. It manages to make you smile subtly back at him. “My gorgeous girl.” He kisses your cheek, still moist with tears. “Baby, you’re so beautiful. You don’t have to look like everyone else.” “Thanks.” 

“I mean it, Y/N. I think you’re ridiculously gorgeous. Tall, sure, but you’re just too perfect to be anything else. You’re majestic.” You scoff but laugh a bit at him. 

“Majestic? I’m a mess most of the time.”

“You can be a mess and still look majestic. You do it all the time,” he says playfully. “You, my love, are like a queen.” You roll your eyes, but your face has softened. “You’re my queen,” he says more sweetly and kisses you.

“Thank you, Jamie. I’m sorry I was being stupid,” you voice your dark thought.  “Sweetheart,” he chides lovingly. “That’s nothing to be sorry for. I just wish you’d told me earlier. You’re not even a little bit stupid. Only for suffering alone,” he jokes. “We all have things. I get self-conscious about not being tall enough for you to like me,” he confesses, looking nervous. 

“I don’t like you, I love you.” He smiles at this.

“And I’ll never get used to my queen loving me back.” His tone is teasing again, still vulnerable but very him. 

You both take a deep breath and, eyes meeting, just chuckle together for a moment. You shake off the intense emotions, the charged conversation. You sigh and hug him again, his body eager to receive you. 

“What do you want to do, love?” His hand is caressing your back as he looks into your eyes. “We’ll do whatever you feel like.” You have to take a long time to consider it. You’d been so desperate to go home just moments ago, but now you’re unsure. You feel so much lighter and take your time thinking about what would make you happy, everyone else be damned. 

“I want to dance. With you. And not crouch anymore,” you laugh. “My back is fucking killing me.” 

“Crouching? Y/N, if I catch you crouching, I’m going to be very upset,” he teases. “You wanna dance? Let’s go dance, baby.” You nod, smiling. 

“Just help me sneak to the toilets first. I’m sure I look a mess.” “You’re beautiful, but sounds good. Then we dance.” He kisses you. “And then, once you’ve danced all you want to dance, we’ll take you home, and I’ll give you the best massage you’ve ever gotten. Your feet and back are going to be grateful they’re sore.” You scoff lovingly and put your arm in his.

As you head back inside, you stand tall next to James, feeling like you’re floating, happy for now to be majestic mess. 

[land-of-birds-and-comics]

so about four years ago i wanted to spend twelve years torturing scrooge (in a funny way, probably) about that one time donald disappeared. since it's just a series of vignettes i will try and see how far i get :) hopefully not in real time.

part 1:

Electricity crackles through the air, and then all Gyro can do is stare at the spot where Donald used to be. For just one millisecond, he thinks, he must have left a Donald-shaped vacuum behind. Now, there's nothing at all to prove he was ever there.

Gyro doesn't even flinch when the door is flung open. His mind is going a mile a minute, a minute a mile. Moving through time is nothing like moving through space.

"I've got you cornered!" Scrooge yells, and he yells it from the other side of an information gap so deep and wide that Gyro feels dizzy at the edge of it. "No excuses, Gyro! Where'd that boy run off to?!"

Donald is, of course, well and truly, gone. He's broken the laws of conservation of mass as we currently understand them, that's how gone he is. No one has ever been so fundamentally not here anymore. "He isn't anywhere," Gyro doesn't say. "I would tell you," he settles for, "if I had any idea."

Scrooge only snorts. "You should know better than to play innocent with me, Gyro." He begins to search the laboratory, dragging a frankly frightening wooden club behind him, his bill twitching from one hiding place to another like he's literally trying to sniff his debtor out. He regards the furnace with particular suspicion, winding up to put a dent in the thing.

"He's not here!" Gyro blurts out. That seems like a good enough start. Not the terrifying truth, not a placating lie. Scrooge freezes, shooting him a questioning look. He takes a deep breath. "He was here..."

"And then he snuck out the back, right?" Scrooge interrupts him. "And you’re not technically lying, because you don't know where he went from there." He fully faces Gyro for the first time, pointing the club in his face with a flourish. "I still consider that conspiring against your employer, you know."

Gyro blinks down at him.

"He took my time machine."

The tension leaves Scrooge's stance, taken aback by the confession. "He... stole it?"

"No, no..." Gyro shakes his head, then, helplessly, lets the gesture trail off to rub his temples. "He took a ride on it. He hopped on my unfinished, untested, unsafe prototype of a time machine to get away from you."

That impulsive idiot. Wasn't it always like this? Wasn't there always someone, and, more often than not, a certain someone, who wasn't capable of exercising basic caution and restraint when handling his inventions, and wasn't it always Gyro who was left to try to fix their mistakes?

This might have been the last time, Gyro thinks. He tries not to let the manifold consequences start unfolding in his mind.

"The cad," Scrooge spits. "Thinks he can just wait this one out. Thinks he can just lay low and go about his merry existence..."

Scrooge starts tapping his foot. "Time may heal all wounds, Gyro, but it won't get me my thirty million back." He stops. "Where is he now? Or when?"

It's almost impressive that Scrooge can stand right in front of him and be just as hard to reach as someone lost to the physical plane. "I told you, I don't know! All I know is that it was a one-way trip."

"We’ll have to go pick him up, then." He taps the side of the machine with the club. "Can’t we just-"

"No!" The thing is in Gyro's hands before he knows it, gripped by a hot rush of outrage. "There's no way to predict where it'll go! It doesn't have a control unit yet!" He clutches it to his chest. "There's no way to know where he went."

Gone, but not gone forever. Gone to the future, which is happening right now, moment by moment. Any one of them could be the one Donald reappears at. It could, of course, also happen to be the moment the sun expands and swallows us all.

Gyro slumps against the console. "He doesn't exist at all right now. He won't perceive his own non-existence- He'll just stumble into the Duckburg of the future-"

Scrooge gets a funny glint in his eye. "The future?"

"I- Yes. It can't go backwards in time, either."

"Then..." There's a pause. Scrooge looks at Gyro like he's just snapped out of a daydream. He snatches the club back, hoisting it over his shoulder, and adjusts his hat. "This is his chance at redemption."

Scrooge turns to leave, looking as pleased now as he looked furious when he entered. "Tell him to bring back anything potentially profitable. Advanced technology, promising stocks, consumer trends, that kind of thing. Then I'll welcome him back with open arms."

Gyro stumbles to his feet. "I can't tell him anything! I just told you, I can't-"

"Of course you can," Scrooge says, looking back one more time. "I'm not letting two golden opportunities slip through my fingers in one day." And with that, he closes the door behind him.

Gyro curses Scrooge, Donald and himself in equal measure. Then he rolls up his sleeves. This is far from the first time he's been asked to do the impossible.

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

part 2

[badaseyebags]

to all the boys that tried to love me ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Ch1

word count: 1,1k

warnings: none yet, characters will reveal themselves

authors note: hello hello, i’m not sure if anybody will read this since it’s not bada/team bebe related, but big thank you to those who do! i kept this one short just to test things out -🍞

do you ever feel like you’re falling behind in life or that you’re are too childish for your age? or maybe you haven’t experienced things others your age have been doing for years? well.. what better way to fix that than to go to your first party, am i right? haha no. you shouldn’t pressure yourself to fit into society’s standards, if i could tell my younger self i would. and maybe punch her in the face, repeatedly. but then i wouldn’t have all these stories to tell.

let’s start from the beginning..

covid is just ending, restrictions are finally being lifted, and you’ve spend so much time being locked inside the house. all of your friends are adults, yet none of you experienced a real party without supervision, how embarrassing right? the one damn party you’ve ever attended was with your family’s presence and it was full of high people and terrible music. how lucky were you to find a party that’s catered to a specific audience that you resonate with? a community of people who enjoy the same music as you, and it’s in a nearby city? oh you definitely had to go! this small town was full of weirdos, it’s time to explore the real world!

i’ll take you to the day of the party, just a few hours before it all happened. when me and my best friends were getting ready. it was our first proper party, well.. mostly, my ex, ryujin who turned into my bestie after our break up has been to many, she was always a bit ahead of me. but for me and my other bestie ningning, this was a premiere. we had no real idea of how these parties go, or what to expect, you could call us daydreamers, or delusional if you want.

we took the train to the city, and lucky for us my auntie lived there so we didn’t have to worry about going home at 5 am or searching for a place to sleep. it was all going according to plan. we sipped on some champagne to “loosen up” before the event, honestly it did a little more than just loosen me up as i disappeared for a good 20 minutes and came back with pink hair dye? yeah, not sure what compelled me to do so, but it was one of the best hair choices i made. so while my friends are doing their makeup, i’m sitting on the floor, tipsy and with pink hair. we finish getting ready and feel our own heartbeats as we get in the cab and drive to our destination.

are my legs shaky because i’m nervous? or is it the after effects of the cheap champagne working it’s magic on my inexperienced heart? as if i have time to worry about that right now, i’m so exited! we skip over to the line of the club and gasp at the amount of people. do clubs usually have this many people? we look at each other in excitement, grasping each others hands tightly, as we hear our favourite songs being played from the inside.

our joy was cut short upon entering and getting hit with the unpleasant, pungent smell of people’s sweat mixing in with whatever alcohol they were drinking. did nobody else in here use perfume? or deodorant at least? why the hell is everyone so touchy with each other? are they dating… my eyes didn’t know where to focus so instead i looked at the floor shyly, deciding i might need a little drink to handle this. at some point we felt like we didn’t belong in there and made a huge mistake planning this night. but we decided to stay since we planned this for long, and we would seem like even bigger losers for leaving so suddenly. and so, we had a few shots that felt like a rock being thrown at a window, me being the window. i had to sit down, this feeling was so icky, the music is too loud, too many people.. i found some random seat and just watched people dance and have fun. was this what all parties are like? at least my friends are having fun… kinda. my eyes pan from them to this random person across from me. hm.. he seems to.. not belong here neither. is he here because of his friends? he seems oddly calm for such a loud place, he seems nice. i thought to myself, eyes scanning him a bit longer than i thought. my friends came up to me teasing me about this little “crush” huh? crush? i just thought he looked kind.. anyways, he seems really nice i wouldn’t mind knowing his name. but that’s all. his vibe is really different from all these guys showing off, much different than that guy that keeps screaming over there. at this point even i know his name, he seems very popular this loud guy.. tsurugi, or whatever people passing by called him. he’s already making my head hurt but he seems to be having fun, i wonder what that feels like.

speaking of guys, ryujin seems to have her eye on the jimin wannabe that just passed by us. dressed in all black, his hair covering the remainder of his face that his black mouth mask didn’t cover. ugh, the way he carries himself and seats himself right between all those girls that are glued to his twinky looking arms, how icky. definition of fboi right there, she can’t be serious. “you can’t even see his face, what’s there to like??” i shake my head at her, making eye contact with the said guy, glaring at him. he turns his attention to the group of girls surrounding him, drinking up all the attention while buying them a bottle. jeez, i’m guessing he’s the star of this party or something. i hate guys like this. this is also the type of guys you should avoid at parties, no, he’s not loud, doesn’t seem super drunk and in everyone’s faces like that tsurugi dude, but he’s far from the guy that i was curious about earlier. this guy definitely came here with a goal and he’s making it come true.

little did i know, that all 3 of these said guys will try to find a spot in my life, or more like, my heart. how on earth does that happen? well… you will find out soon.

[lubdubsworld]

The Devil’s own.

Jungkook x OC

Mafia Au!

Warnings : Non-Con ! Manipulation, Degradation, Shitty hero with no redeeming Qualities you have been warned. ( i mean he does get better but not much.)

Summary : Just Mob Boss Jungkook doing mob boss things.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

I wasn’t sure how long I stayed there , staring at the ceiling and trying to come to terms with what had just happened. It was revolting. It was nauseating. It made me want to claw my own skin off. I stared at the intricate designs , carved into the ceiling, the panels that reflected life and made the room seem bigger than it was. The scent of jasmine and rosemary clung to the sheets and the drapes in the room, cloyingly sweet and meant to arouse the occupants.

I wondered how I’d got here.

I had memories of satin silk sheets and bright lights. My father had always spoiled me, the best of the best only for his only daughter and I’d indulged in luxury to my heart’s content. More shoes than I could possibly wear in a life time. Every season’s collection, straight into my wardrobe whether I asked for it or not. Diamonds and rubies and emeralds set in platinum and gold , jewelry to match my clothes and even my car if I felt like it.

I shut my eyes in despair. I didn’t miss the luxury as much as I missed the solitude. The option to just not do anything. My father hadn’t cared enough to see what I was upto and everyone knew that I was betrothed to Jungkook.

And that meant no dates or party invites because after the third guy got his arm in a sling after accidentally brushing past me , word kind of spread.  Stay away from Elena Gong or the Jeon kid will break your bones.

I shuddered. It had been an obsession, I thought vacantly.

Jungkook had been obsessed, even back then. I just hadn’t paid much heed to him. Because Jungkook back then had been terrifying but also ridiculously endearing in some way. He had seemed for lack of a better word…..insignificant. I was beautiful and rich, never lacked for attention and he was just one among the dozens. Even if I was betrothed to him, I hadn’t given much thought to him.

And Jungkook had taken my indifference in stride. He’d laughed and played around and I hated to admit it, treated me like a queen. Flowers, chocolates and gifts every other day . He would follow me around like a puppy , and I wondered if perhaps my dismissive attitude towards him back then had been a mistake. Did it push him over the edge?

My heart ached fiercely and when I finally willed myself to move, my body protested.

Every inch of me was sore and aching. My head because of how hard he’d gripped my hair. I sat up on shaky legs, fingers trembling as I pulled my shit up to stare at my body. Bite marks littered my skin, marring the smooth surface and I felt bile in my throat at the memory of his teeth on me.  Finger shaped bruises were beginning to bloom around my thighs and I couldn’t breathe over the agony ripping up my insides.

I glanced down between my thighs, at the sticky mess of his release dripping down into the sheets, staining the sheets a murky pink. I shuddered, disgusted. God, I hated him. Where was my phone? My clothes were still there at the foot of the bed and I noticed the small door on the right wall. Crawling off the bed on shaky legs , I limped carefully to the bathroom.

I took Hoseok’s shirt off dropping it in the corner before turning the showers on.

The water felt like a whip on my skin as I sat on the tiled bathroom floor , a small washcloth gripped tight in my hand as I carefully cleaned myself up. I had no idea what the time was… It must be very early or very late. No matter. I had to get out of here and get to Jisoo. I swallowed, imagining her alone all this time. The doctors had said she would be up in Guilt churned as I quickly grabbed a towel from the closet and wiped myself down.

It took me another ten minutes to finish dressing up and just as I finished slipping into my shoes, the door opened.  I glanced up, catching sight of Hoseok as he leaned against the door. He looked a little haggard, a black silk shirt unbuttoned to his chest and tucked into fitted jeans. I stared at him, watching the way his gaze roved over every inch of exposed skin, looking just a tad bit worried.

“The Hospital called. “ He said gently, “ They’re ready to release you sister. They want to know if you can come pick her up. The baby’s going to have to stay in the NICU for a couple of weeks.”

I groaned. Great. More bills.

“I need a job. “ I said miserably. “ Help me out.” I stared at him beseechingly and Hoseok gave me a look.

“you know the kind of jobs I provide. You’re not built for it. “ He said shortly and I shook my head, impatient.

“that’s not what I meant and you know it. You and your friends pretty much own every club in the city. Get me a job ….” I whispered, moving to stand in front of him and he recoiled.

Just as always, I thought bitterly. Coward.

As much as a coward now as he’d been ten years ago, when he’d pretended that he didn’t have any feelings for me. Pretended that he didn’t give a damn about me.

The throb in my skull grew in intensity.

My throat was dry and I felt my vision swim a bit. I was tired. Exhausted . I hadn’t slept in….how long really? I hadn’t eaten in a day…for sure… And I likely wasn’t going to be eating for a long while, let alone feeding Jisoo if I didn’t get a job right away. I had twelve thousand won to my name and that was it.

“Jungkook-“ He began but I was sick of his name so I growled.

“Fuck, do you want me to beg Hoseok? I will… I can’t … I need a job… Please.” I said desperately, staring at him and his gaze softened.

“Elena, stop looking at me like that, fuck.” He swore, turning and punching the wall hard. “ fuck.”

“Just help me get a job. I’m not asking you to give me money or something.  You don’t even have to get it for me… Just tell me who’s hiring ? Somewhere away from Jungkook and his men.” I whispered , and the sheer irony of it didn’t escape me. Jung Hoseok was possibly one of Jungkook’s main men.

He ran his hand over his forehead, shaking his head.

“You’re going to get me killed someday.” He muttered, “ Fine. There’s a club down in Itaewon. It caters to cops and lawyers exclusively so Jungkook and his men usually keep out of it. My friend owns the place. His name is Im Jaebum.  I’ll get you a job there , waitressing. Is that alright?” He said softly and I wanted to sob in relief as I nodded. Itaewon meant pretty close to where the bakery was. I could take the bus.

“Fine. I’ll talk to him and call you. Here…” He held out a wad of cash and I took it greedily, eyes widening at the 100,000 written on the margin of each note. This was a lot of money.

“Hoseok…”I said stunned and he shrugged. “ Get food and baby stuff for Jisoo. If she’s going to feed the baby she needs to eat well. Fruits and veggies and lot of protein. If you run out, tell Jaebum you need some advance. He’ll pay you well.”

I nodded, stuffing the money into my pockets quickly . I swallowed when my insides throbbed, aching something fierce.

“Thank you.” I said softly, staring up at him and he hesitated, before reaching out and gently cupping my face in his palm. I flinched at his touch and he recoiled.

“Was he… Did he hurt you?” He whispered quietly and I smiled bitterly.

“Wasn’t that the whole point?” I sighed, shaking my head . I hesitated . I wasn’t sure if Hoseok would listen to me but I had to try at least.

“ Can you not tell him? That… That I was a virgin?” I asked quietly and he nodded.

“Wasn’t planning to.” He said casually.

I stared at him. I’d always found him handsome. Beautiful. Perfect . And I wondered where we had gone so wrong.

“Do you regret it.” I whispered. “ All those choices you made.”

“Which ones? …” he asked bitterly.

“you know… “ I snapped. “ the ones that lead us here. You and me…. Standing here like strangers. “

“I wouldn’t risk my life for a stranger. Which is what I’m doing every time I help you .” He said quietly.

“So what are we then?” I demanded.

“Old friends” He said casually.

I snorted.

“Fucking coward.” I whispered , loud enough for him to hear as I brushed past him and walked away.

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

I trudged all the way to the VIP room in the hospital flinching because that was probably a lot of money to be repaid , now owed directly to the devil spawn that was Jeon. I had grabbed a small meal on the way before quickly getting the bus to the Hospital. It was little past eleven in the morning and the hallways were packed with people. Sighing, I moved to the room where Jisoo was, slowly opening the door.

Min Yoongi sat on the chair next to the bed, gazing idly at my sister in law.

To say that I was shocked would be the biggest understatement of the century. My lips parted in shock, panic bubbling up inside me as I exhaled sharply.

“What-“ I swallowed gazing between him and my Jisoo, who was sitting up against the backrest on the bed, a tray of food on her lap and a small smile on her face.

“Lena!! You’re here!” She cried out softly, tears filling her eyes at once as she held both her hands up. I moved to hug her but my mind stayed on the man near the bed, his sultry feline eyes trained unblinkingly on her. I wrapped my arms around her, trying to get my breathing to regulate but it was impossible.

What on earth was Yoongi doing here?

“Mr. Min came to see me. He told me he knew Daehwan.” Jisoo said softly, looking sad but hopeful and I felt my heart turn over as I turned to stare at him.

Min Yoongi knew Daehwan as a target . A hit he had carried out himself.

But I couldn’t say a thing. Not in front of Jisoo.

“I’m only here to offer my help. It pains me to see you suffering, Jisoo. I know your husband would want you to be taken care of.” He said softly, his gaze still fixed on her and I didn’t like it. At all.

Bile rising, I gave him a glare.

“I’ll take care of her. Please don’t trouble yourself.” I said shakily and he glanced at me, lips parting a bit, turning into a smirk.

“You look… well rested.” He smirked and I flushed.

“Lena, come on… I know all this…this must be expensive. We can use all the help we can get and Mr. Min-“

“Please call me Yoongi, sweetheart.” Yoongi said charmingly and my sister in law blushed. I felt my skin crawl.

“Y-Yoongi said he has a spare room. I can’t stay in the bakery.  And it’s not like he’s a murderer or anything. He showed me his card. He’s a lawyer.” She said softly and I sighed in despair. Jisoo was naïve bordering on stupid and I wasn’t equipped to deal with this.

As I watched she went back to the food, eating ravenously and I felt my heart clench. I could see the twin damp spots at her chest and I noticed the breast pump on the table. It looked brand new. I hadn’t even thought about things she may need after the baby, too preoccupied with all the hospital bills and medicines I would have to pay for.

Diapers. Baby wipes. Those little flannel pieces mothers used to wipe down the baby. I felt my head spin, turning to Yoongi who was staring at me casually.

“Can we talk?” I said quietly and he straightened.

“Jisoo ssi… Please enjoy your meal. And here…” He gave her his phone. “ If you’re done, just give me a buzz on this.” He showed her something on the phone .” Go on try it.”

Jisoo pressed down on the screen curiously and Yoongi’s watch rang .

He grinned as she smiled.

“See? One touch and I’ll be here yeah?” He said softly, and I felt like I was stuck in some kind of drama, glancing between the pair of them.

“Are you leaving?” She asked curiously and he shook his head.

“I’ll be right here, outside. Having a word with Elena. You can finish your food and I’m guessing it’s time for you to pump again? The pediatrician said you’d have to pump every two hours with the milk so… if you get it ready, I’ll drop it off at the NICU.” He said calmly.

Jisoo nodded, staring at him with wide eyed gratefulness and I sighed in despair.

Yoongi moved to the door and I gave her a small smile before following him.

I waited till the door had closed behind me before turning to him, furious.

“What do you think you’re-“

“I want her.” He said shortly.

I felt my jaw come unhinged.

“No.” I hissed, furious and helpless with rage. “ Yoongi-“

“Don’t make me put a bullet in your head for this, Elena.” He said calmly and I exhaled shakily.

“She’s… You know she’s not like us. She doesn’t know anything about this life. As far as she knows my brother was a surgeon who got killed in a hit and run. You want to …. What do you really want? Did Jungkook put you upto this?”

“If Jungkook would have his way, your sister in law and your new nephew would both be dead. You know this.” Yoongi said casually. God, could I ever have a conversation with anyone without Jungkook being dragged into it? When did my life get twined so intimately with him?

“Where is he?” I asked quickly and Yoongi shrugged.

“He’s out of the country. He left an hour ago.”

“Switzerland….” I said before thinking and Yoongi stiffened.

“How did you know?” He demanded and I froze.

“I… I overheard …..someone.” I muttered and Yoongi moved so fast I barely caught it. The next second I was pressed up against the wall, his forearm pressing into my throat and holding me down while he held a knife right against my jugular.

“Nice try. Now the truth.” He hissed.

“Ouch..” I choked out , coughing  a bit. “ Fine.. Hoseok.. Hoseok told me.”

Yoongi pulled back.

“You fukcing him?” He asked casually and I glared at him.

“none of your business.” I snapped.

He laughed at that.

“I know you aren’t. Hoseok loves his dick too much to risk having it castrated.”

I sighed, shaking my head. I wasn’t here to talk about these bastards.

“Just leave Jisoo alone.” I said quietly and Yoongi sighed.

“What are you going to do with her, Elena. You can barely afford to feed yourself. You should be thankful I’m taking her off your hands.”

I ignored his nonsense and moved till I was pressed up against him, fingers curling into his chest. Yoongi looked surprised, lips twisting in displeasure when I blinked up at him.

“please.. Yoongi…” I begged, “ Don’t do this to me.” I said quietly. “ I … she’s all I have… She… My brother had nothing to do with any of this. You know that….He left this life decades ago. I don’t… I don’t know why Jungkook wanted him dead in the first place. I loved my brother and my brother loved his wife. I owe it to him … Please…just…Please leave her alone.” I whispered softly, letting my fingers drop to grip his arm.  

He tugged his arm away at once.

“ She needs more than empty platitudes and good intentions. She needs food and a place to stay with her baby. I’m giving her that.”

“And what do you get in return?” I demanded angrily. “ She just gave birth, fuck you. You can’t touch her , not unless you’ve lost the last shreds of humanity in that conscience of yours.”

He rolled his eyes.

“I’m not doing this for sex, Elena. If I wanted easy pussy, I would have come to you…” He smirked.  “ Don’t forget that Jungkook and I share our toys, yeah?”

I opened my mouth to retort before remembering that I was trying to get him to listen to him.

“Then why? What do you want…tell me?”

“I told you. I want her. As she is.” Yoongi shrugged.

“You killed her husband.” I said , voice shaking as I remembered what Jungkook had said. About my brother begging for his life because Jisoo was pregnant. And how Yoongi hadn’t given a shit and shot him anyway.

“A minor inconvenience. Trust me if I’d seen her before I killed him…” He sighed, shaking his head in regret and I frowned.

“You would have spared him? “ I asked bitterly and Yoongi laughed.

“No.. I would have killed him sooner.” He smirked. “ Is there a point to this whole conversation… I’m getting bored and Jisoo’s waiting inside.”

“We’re supposed to get her out of the hospital today and-“

“I’m taking her home.” He said briskly. “ I’ve already spoken to her. And She’s agreed that a ramshackle , dilapidated bakery isn’t the right place for a new mother and a tiny baby.”

And the worst part was that I couldn’t even disagree.

And I couldn’t help but feel angry, betrayed. Jisoo was…. How could she? She hadn’t even bothered to talk to me about it… Just agreeing to move in with Yoongi. She was older than me. Supposed to be the smart one. My body ached. If that was the bed she was going to make , she could lie on it.

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

“Going somewhere?” Jungkook’s voice made me freeze.

I swallowed, straightening and stepping back almost instinctively. He stood in the doorway, a cigarette held between his teeth as he stared at me . He looked like he’d showered as well, hair still damp and the smells of citrus and mint permeating the air around him.

It was exactly ten days since I’d last seen him and I’d settled into a routine of sorts. Im Jaebum’s bar, Venom was an exclusive club in Itaewon and I could easily disappear into the shadows, staying low and using the beret ( a part of the uniform ) to keep my face hidden as I served the patrons. Like Hoseok had said, the place was filled with cops and lawyers. Yoongi was a frequent fixture here , stopping for just a drink on most days before heading home to my sister in law.

It made me sick but there was nothing I could do about it. Jisoo and little baby Yunsu were both home and needed a l,ot of care. And Yoongi apparently had a cook, a housekeeper and a nanny who helped her out. Jisoo was wary, her senses finally returning but she was also clearly glad to be out of the streets.

“I’m going home after I finish my shift. “ I said softly, trying not to stare as he stepped into the room. I turned away from him moving to the shelves and pushing the small canister in place.

“Where’s home?” He asked casually. I flinched when he stepped right behind me, fingers reaching out to curl on my shoulder, pulling me back till I was flush against his chest. The heat of his body seeped in through the thin fabric of my blouse and I felt my body heat up.

“You got what you wanted.” I said shakily. “ Let me go.” I whispered, dropping the cleaning cloth in the tray on the lower shelves, before moving to grab the mop. I just had to finish mopping the floor . And then I could leave.

But his grip on me stayed firm. I couldn’t move. Foreboding rose inside me.

Jungkook hummed at that, stepping closer, till I felt his chin brush the top of my head as he bent over me, arms coming around me  and fingers lightly unbuttoning the first two buttons of my  shirt. I stared at the dark ink on his forearm. , swallowing as he kept coming closer.

“What I wanted? That pathetic little display ten days ago?”  He whispered softly “ Just think about this Elena ……  I’ve been chasing you for years, I got rid of your entire family and yet I let you live. Why do you think that was, huh? “ He shook his head, “ For two minutes of you lying underneath me like a frigid bitch? You think that’s what I want Elena? Think I’ll be satisfied with that? ” He laughed.

I stared at the wall in front of me  and I couldn’t do this. Couldn’t play this sick game with him. Not when he kept changing the rules . Not when there was nothing left for me to gamble or lose.

“Jisoo. I have to go see her. Just… Just let me go see her. I need to see if she’s alright and then we can talk. ” I whispered. Jungkook smiled, tilting my  head to the side with his fingers. I felt the damp press of his lips against my jaw and my skin crawled.

“Don’t worry, Yoongi’s taking care of her.” He whispered softly and I felt my heart turn over in my chest at the reminder. I’d been forced to relent because Yoongi had taken her home to a fully finished and decorated nursery , a closet full of baby clothes for her son and nursing clothes for her. She had been bowled over and when I’d told her to think about the why of it…she’d given me a helpless sort of smile. . As far as she was concerned , Yoongi had been nothing but generous and kind… And she wasn’t going to say no to him because she couldn’t afford to..

“I… he promised me he’d let me see her. And the baby…every day. That was the deal.”

Jungkook laughed.

“I thought I made this clear . You don’t get to make deals with anyone because you belong to me. I get to decide what happens to you. Anytime. Anywhere. Do you need another demonstration , Elena?” His hand moved to my breast, groping the flesh, fingers rough and hard and I whimpered in pain.

“No..” I choked out , eyes widening in terror and he made quick work of the rest of the buttons on my blouse. Junkook hummed, kissing the back of my neck and slowly turning me around in his arms.

“Relax. You don’t have a job. How are you going to feed her and the kid? Yoongi isn’t like me. He doesn’t hold a lot of grudges. And for some reason he seems to have a hard on for your sister in law. He wants to marry her. ” He chuckled and I felt nausea bloom.

“No.. Don’t… Don’t do that to her. She’s not like us. She doesn’t know… She doesn’t have anything to do with this life.” I begged, heart racing at the thought of Jisoo, helpless and scared and alone with a baby , trapped with a fucking assassin. Yoongi killed for a living . That was his job. Jisoo was delicate and sensitive.

“She still needs to eat and live right? With what?  He’s feeling particularly generous so he’s taken her home . You don’t have to worry about them anymore… Isn’t that nice?” he smirked and I felt my throat go dry.

I clenched my fists, feeling my breath catch.

“The only person you need to worry about yourself is yourself. Isn’t that how you prefer it anyway? Beautiful selfish Elena who never gave a fuck about anyone but herself. Isn’t that who you truly are, angel?” He smiled.

“Not anyone…. Just you… I don’t give a fuck about you.” I said defiantly, staring right up at him.  

Jungkook stared at me and stepped closer, reaching out and running his fingers up and down my cheek. I flinched because he still held the lit cigarette.

“None at all?”  He asked curiously, lightly tapping on the end of the cigarette, and I flinched when the hot ash spilled onto my shoulder.

“Did that hurt, baby?” He whispered, leaning in and pressing the cigarette to my lips.” I’m sorry. Breathe in for me.” He stuck the cigarette into my mouth and I pulled away , coughing and disgusted.

I closed my eyes as his free hand went to my wrist, tugging me closer. I stiffened as he wrapped his arms around me, drawing me in till my face pressed against his chest, his body flush against mine, one hand moving back to stroke my back.

“I missed you. You’re terrible at pleasing me but I think…with a little bit of training, you can make me cum… ” He smirked. “ Let’s start with a blowjob, yeah?”

I stiffened.

“No.” I said softly and he smirked, pulling back.

“No?” He asked softly. . I felt my throat go dry in fear as I noticed the way his gaze shifted.   I bit my lips to stifle the pain as He carefully pressed the lit end of the cigarette right against the curve of my breast , pressing in for a couple of seconds and pulling away just before the skin began to singe. He glanced up at me, and I blinked through the tears, pain spreading all over my chest at the burn. That would leave a scar, I thought miserably.

“Wrong answer. Try again.” He whispered.

“Go to Hell.” I choked out.

I flinched when his fingers slipped up into my hair, gripping hard. My scalp burned, sharp and insistent and instinct made me grip his wrist, trying to get him off but it was impossible.

“Let me go..” I snapped, glaring at him. God, How I hated him.

“Was I your first??” He whispered, dragging me close enough that his lips brushed my ear. “ Never had a cock before? Was that why you were so fucking tight?”

I bit my lips, glaring at him, defiant and furious. Did Hoseok actually tell him? That two faced snake…. God , why did these fuckers never leave me alone?

“Seokjin hyung told me…Told me he was looking forward to breaking a virgin and that made me think….God, I was the first cock she ever had….” He hummed, looking infinitely pleased.

“Yes. And I got to say… I don’t know what the fuss is about. You couldn’t even make me cum.” I snapped and Jungkook grinned, grip tightening and the other hand moving to curl around my waist, squeezing hard.

“Did I make you bleed from between your legs Elena? Tell me I did….Cause that’s fucking hot. ” He whispered, voice low and gruff.

Jungkook, I thought vacantly, was a psychopath.

“Go to Lisa. Go fuck her and make her bleed if that’s what gets you off….  and leave me alone.” I whispered and he smiled, bending down pressing a kiss right where he’d burned my skin.

“I don’t need you to tell me that. She’s my fiancé. The woman I’m going to marry. And you know what that means? I actually give a shit whether she cums or not. And trust me she does. Multiple times. Sometimes so hard she passes out.”

“Or maybe she fakes it. Maybe she passes out because she can’t stand your touch either.” I shrugged. “ Because we all know that’s what she’s good at Jungkook. She faked her friendship with me , she’ll fake her loyalty to you.”

“Always got something smart to say, huh Elena? Let’s see how mouthy you get when I’m shoving my cock down your throat.”

I flinched when he pushed me, hard enough to send me sprawling on the floor. I caught myself with difficulty , throwing my hands out to keep my head from hitting the floor. I flinched at the pain that shot up my body, every inch throbbing because of how rough this fucker had been with me.

Ten days and the aftermath of that night still lingered on me.

And it was three in the morning  and I’d spent eight hours on my feet bussing tables , I was exhausted.

I closed my eyes, before pressing my palm against the floor, trying to pull myself up when I felt the press of his shoe at the base of my spine, pushing me down.

I whimpered in shock, my hands giving out and shoulder crashing down into the floor.

“Stay down for a second, baby.” He whispered and I exhaled.

I pressed my palm against the floor, head dropping on to the carpeted floor . I whimpered when I felt him crouch down, foot digging in harder into my back and I curled my fingers into the carpet to swallow the pained sound that bubbled up in my throat.

“I’m going to fuck you again. And this time I want you to do all the work.” Jungkook’s voice came from over me and I flinched. I considered the odds of me putting up a fight and actually winning. It was laughable. I wasn’t going to fight a force of nature. And that was what Jeon Jungkook was.

“ You can’t make me do anything Jungkook.” I whispered finally. “ You can hit me and rape me and kill me but you can’t make me do anything to you. You just have to live with that.”

His foot lifted off my spine and I felt hands on my arms, pulling me up till I was kneeling. I watched as he moved around to stand in front of me.

“Look at me.” He said carefully.” From now you only speak when I tell you to.”

“ Whatever.  Let’s get this over with so I can go see my sister and my nephew.“ I said shakily.

He sighed deeply at that, shaking his head.

“See, if it was upto me, I’d just put a bullet in both their heads. Cos at this point they’re just proving to be a nuisance.”

My blood turned to ice in my veins.

“ But,  Yoongi’s just getting to know your pretty little Jisoo…And he’s my favorite hyung. So I’m going to let her live. But, let’s not invade their privacy for a while.” He began unbuckling his belt and I felt nausea rise inside me.

“Jungkook?” The voice came from the door and I stiffened.  Jungkook groaned.

“Baby, what the fuck are you doing here?” He said gruffly, standing up and using his knee to push me out of the way roughly. I swore, gripping the edge of the table near me to steady myself before turning around to stare at the woman at the door.  I stumbled to my feet, still feeling a little out of it. I needed food. Before I collapsed in a heap on the floor.

“You were supposed to come see me tonight. I went looking for you everywhere and I find you here about to get with some common whore?”  she shouted and I stiffened, glaring at her.

She stood framed in the doorway, staring at me for a second before letting her gaze wander all over the room. She stared at me, eyes taking in the unbuttoned blouse and I quickly moved to put the buttons back on.

“Did you fuck her?” She demanded angrily and Jungkook hummed.

“Since when did I owe you answers, angel?” He asked casually and I watched the woman’s eyes widen, before her brows furrowed in a frown.

“ So what, I can’t ask you who you’re with ?” She asked angrily and Jungkook groaned , kicking out at the nearest stand with enough force to send it toppling over the side, crashing to floor and breaking on impact. I stumbled, back, wrapping my arms around myself as he fairly growled.

“What the fuck is up with all you cunts today?” He demanded, glancing at me in distaste. “ I come back after busting my ass at work for ten entire days . I just needed to get my dick sucked and you two.” He shook his head, hand reaching into his jacket and I felt my eyes widen when he pulled his glock out, releasing the safety and loading the gun before pressing the muzzle right against her skull.

The woman whimpered, hands held up as he tapped the firearm against her.

“You. You don’t come anywhere near me unless I send for you. Is that clear?” He asked sharply and she nodded frantically, abject terror written all over her face.

He turned to me.

“And you. You’re coming with me.” He said quietly and I felt my eyes widen. I opened my mouth to protest but the girl at the door beat me to it.

“I think not…. You’re not taking her anywhere, Jungkook, I’ll-“ She began, reaching forward to grab him and Jungkook moved so quickly, I could barely blink.

The shot rang out , making me jump and I watched as she crumbled to the floor, crying out in pain. I stared in horror, watching the hole in her arm, spilling blood all over the floor and the hallway and my throat went completely dry,  staring at the girl on the floor and the blank, absolutely merciless look on his face.

“Just because I let you sit on my cock once in a while, doesn’t mean you get a say in how I live my life.” He said quietly, using his foot to prod her hip. He glanced at me and I felt my throat go dry as he pulled the glock back to reload it.

He aimed the gun right at me, eyes dark and heavy.

“Are you going to be good for me, baby? Or do you need a physical demonstration as well?” He tilted his head to where the girl was on the floor, pressing her palm against her arm.

“She’s  bleeding out.. “ I choked out. “ you need to get her help, Jungk-“

Another shot rang out and I jumped, heart in my throat as I tried to understand what had happened. It took me a second to realize that he hadn’t shot me. That he had fired at the ceiling.

“Answer the bloody question Elena.” He growled and I flinched, nodding.

“I… I’ll listen… Just…” I glanced back at the poor girl on the floor.” Get her some help.”

Jungkook smiled a little. He turned to the girl on the floor and shook his head.

“Get up baby. Go find Hoseok and get that patched up, yeah? And don’t provoke me the next time, yeah? ” He said casually and she stumbled to her feet, looking disoriented and scared as she moved out of the door.

“ And you. “ He glared at me. “Finish dressing up and follow me.”

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

“Where are we going?” I asked nervously, fighting the instinct to just take off at a sprint, as we walked down the road to where his Mercedes was parked.

“My home. Where else?” He said casually and I stiffened.

“Jungkook-“

“Didn’t I tell you not to speak unless I ask you to, Elena? I’m jet lagged and angry. Trust me , you don’t want to piss me off now.” He said casually and I swallowed.

He opened the door for me, the polite gesture so at odds with what he was doing that my head began to throb.

But I climbed in nonetheless. I stayed quiet for the short ride to his apartment , eyes fixed straight ahead and Jungkook was quiet too. I was too exhausted to be scared, I thought despondently, my eyes drooping because of how long I’d been up. Glancing out the window, I watched the cars whizz by, people living their lives, completely unaware that almost all of them were merely tiny little gears in a machine run exclusively by men like Jungkook. That all their lives, spent working and earning and dying…it was all meaningless. They had no say in anything. People like Jungkook were the ones who got to shape the world to their liking. The ones who got to play God.

And Jungkook was definitely the closest to an omnipotent human I’d ever come across.

Powerful, untouchable and terrifying.

So perhaps, it was a little flattering, that I was the one thing he couldn’t get out of his head.

I glanced at him discreetly.

He was beautiful, I thought with a pang. One of the most beautiful men on this planet. Despite the years, his boyish charm was still right there on his face and he could slip on a plaid shirt , a white t shirt and stone wash jeans and pass off as an innocent college student. I stared at the taut jaw, the long column of his neck and the broad back. His biceps bulged when he gripped the steering when and my eyes lingered on the long fingers curled around the wheel.

I jumped when his hand moved to grip the stick shift , curling on the knob and yanking it back with force. I swallowed, thighs pressing together as my mind shifted to that night in Hoseok’s club. I hated myself for how often I relived it. And not always with disgust.

My fingers fell on the ring on his finger. His engagement ring, I thought with a pang. Lisa. Beautiful, wonderful Lisa who had been a dear friend . Once. For all her shortcomings I knew she loved the man who sat next to me. Cared deeply for him, even. Why else would she do this to me? She must have strong feelings for him , if  it had prompted her to throw away our friendship of over a decade.

“You’re cheating on her then.” I said quietly.  His reminder to not talk to him rang in my head but I couldn’t stop myself. He wasn’t a stranger. And that ring…the ring that promised to bind two people forever….. I’d worn it too. For him.

Jungkook didn’t reply, merely glancing at me in passing.

I sighed, looking at my knees, feeling my shoulders tremble a bit.

“Is she going to be there?” I asked quietly.

He exhaled sharply. I noticed the way his grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“No.”  He said shortly.

“She lives with you right? You said we’re going home ….then where is she-“

“What is this, twenty fucking questions?” He snapped and I swallowed. “ I’m not taking you home to my fiancée Elena, do I look like a fucking idiot? “ He shook his head.

Before I could demand more answers, he was pulling over into a side alley. I watched as he carefully parked the car before stepping out.  Second later, he was coming around and opening the door.

I stared at him, gripping the hem of my blouse, tight. My stomach twisted into knots.

“Can’t you just let me go?” I whispered softly, pride forgotten in the wake of my tiredness. Jungkook stared at me, face eerily blank.

“Get out of the car.”

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

“Like it?” He asked softly and I stood on the threshold, taking in the lavishly decorated apartment on the top floor of the building. I noticed the portrait right up front, a large full sized photo of me and Jungkook from nearly a decade ago, wrapped around each other in a hug , showing off our engagement bands.

“What is this?”

“It was supposed to be your wedding gift. From me. I bought it for you. Nine years ago. Thought you should see it.” He said quietly.

I stayed perfectly still , as he wrapped his hands around me in a hug.

“Why did you leave me, Elena?” He asked quietly and I felt my throat go dry.

“Why do you still have this place? Get rid of it.” I snapped. He laughed at that , pulling away and turning me around till I stared at him.

“ Will you stay here, with me?” He asked softly and I froze.

“You’re out of your mind.” I said shortly.

He hummed.

“Possibly. But then, the problem is this. If I tell you , you can’t leave this place ever again….There’s not much you can do about it, right?” He said thoughtfully and I felt a sob building in my chest.

“I… Don’t.” I said shakily.

“You should see the bedroom. Come.”

His fingers wrapped around my wrist dragging me past the lavish couch and sofa, past a well kept bar onto a wide hallway dimly lit. He stopped at the second door on the right, reaching out to open the lock.  The room was plunged in darkness and I hesitated.

“Go on… After you, Mrs. Jeon.” He said softly . I could feel distaste creeping up my spine at the name, shivering a bit as I stepped into the darkness.

“Can you imagine, if we’d gotten married. This is what our first night together would be like…” He pressed against my back, arms coming around me , so gentle that I shivered.

“Jungkook…what are you doing?” I asked shakily.

“Shush…. “ He whispered, moving to unbutton my blouse again. I grabbed his wrists quickly.

“We aren’t married. I’m not your wife.” I said sharply and I felt him go still behind me.

“Shut your mouth and play along like a good girl.” He said quietly. He shook my hands off, moving to undo the buttons again.

Not sure what he expected, I stayed perfectly still as he hummed, pressing soft feather light kisses down my jaw and past my shoulders. His hands stroked up and down my arm as he laughed .

“Did you miss me Elena…..all these years…” He said quietly. “ Because I missed you. So much.”

He hugged me close, tight and hard.

“Are you scared?” He whispered, “ honey?”

“Oh, God…” I choked out, nausea rising up in my throat at the endearment.

“My wife…” He whispered, pressing a few more kisses against my skin before pushing me a bit towards the bed. “ Should I turn on the lights? I wanna see you.”

He nudged me towards the bed and my legs gave out when I hit the edge of it, legs turning to jelly as I sat on it, shaky and creeped out and terrified. Jungkook moved to turn on the lamp on the bedside table, a soft golden glow lighting up the bed .

“Look at you… so beautiful.” He whispered and I watched as he tugged off his shirt, before moving to his belt. He was watching me like I was something precious. Like I was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“What are you doing?” I asked quietly and he smiled, running his fingers over the tattoos decorating his chest. He stopped at a large ornate tiger lily, inscribed right over his heart.

“Do you like it?” he said softly. “ I got this for you. My Elena…. As delicate as a lily and as brave as a tiger.”

I stared at him in disbelief.

“Either fuck me or let me go, I’m not here to talk about-“

He slapped me, so hard that my head whipped to the side, my face feeling like it had caught fire. I gasped, the pain spreading all over my jaw and I couldn’t quite grasp what had just happened. I pressed shaky fingers to the throbbing skin near my mouth, eyes watering at the sting.

“Didn’t I tell you to play along, angel?” He whispered sharply and I closed my eyes , shuddering.

Play along. Do it if you want to get out of here alive. ‘

Fucking psychopath.

“ It’s beautiful, Jungkook.” I whispered softly, glancing at him with teary eyes. He nodded.

“We’ll get one for you too. A wolf. With the initials JK on it…. Right here…” He lightly traced a path over my collarbone and I hoped to God, this was some sick fantasy. That he wasn’t seriously considering tattooing his initials on me.

“Strip for me baby… All of it. I want to see you.” He whispered and I hesitated just long enough to take a deep breath. I reached back, quickly undoing my bra clasp and pulling the fabric off.  I hooked my thumbs into my skirt and my panties, tugging both of them off me, swiftly. I dropped all of it on the floor next to the bed, before moving to kneel in the middle of the bed, staring at him with a smile that felt physically painful.

“I’m going to make you feel good, baby.” He whispered quietly, crawling over on top of me.

“Lay down for me.” He said, and I felt repulsed, as he kissed my lips, soft and gentle, pressing in till I was flat on my back, legs parted so he could lie in between.

It was so different from last time and somehow ten times worse.

Jungkook pressed kisses all over my face, whispering gentle words against my skin that felt like acid.

“So beautiful…. Mine. You were always mine Elena. Mine to touch and mine to break . Mine to love and mine to fuck.”

I stared as he loomed over, his face inches from mine, his gaze deceptively affectionate, his eyes warm and almost soft. I watched as he came closer, his lips closing over mine. Instinctively I kept my lips together but his fingers curled around my thigh, squeezing hard enough to make me whimper, lips parting . He pressed his tongue in then , licking into my mouth and I brought my hands up, instinctively wrapping around the bare skin of his shoulders and my body thrummed at the feeling of his muscles under my fingers.

Curiosity made me foolish, and I found myself tracing the hills and valleys of his skin, fascinated by the way the muscles flexed, every time he moved his arm.

“You like that? I worked hard on those…” He chuckled, watching me curl my fingers around his biceps. He was so… big. I moved my fingers up to the hardness of his chest, splaying my palm on his pecs and my fingers caught a hard little scar, almost perfectly round and deep.

“What is this…” I asked , curious my finger dipping into the healed skin and he hummed.

“Your father . He shot me when I was chasing his car down in Jeju Do. Foolish bastard. Thought he could outrun me.” He laughed .

I glanced at him, catching his eyes and the ebbing laughter , my heart twisting.

“Then why am I here? You hate my father. You killed my entire family. So why am I here, Jungkook?”  I asked foolishly, my heart breaking a bit and he hesitated.

“Because you’re mine.” He said simply.

I closed my eyes in despair.

“If this was our wedding night…. What would you say…?” He asked suddenly.

I stared at him, confused.

“What?”

“If we got married back then… When you were eighteen. And it was our first night together….. what would you say?”

I sighed.

“I’d ask you to ….to be gentle.” I whispered.

He nodded.

“Tell me , then.”

I stared at him, feeling helpless.

“Go on, Elena.” He said again.

“Jungkook…” I began but he shook his head.

“Ggukkie.” He said softly. “ Call me GGukkie… That’s what you used to call me …when we were young.”

I clenched my fists, on his chest, resisting the urge to push him off. That wouldn’t end well for me.

“GGukkie…” I whispered, finally, glancing up at him, licking my lips and parting them gently, eyes as wide as they could go, “ you know its my first time right?”

Jungkook’s eyes fairly danced at that and he hummed, leaning closer.

“Is it, baby?” He asked, reaching up to brush my hair away, fingers gentle on my face.

Get into it. Get into it and get it over with.

“You know it is…” I pouted, “ No one else can touch me. I’m yours , aren’t I GGukkie…”

He laughed, rubbing his nose against mine.

“That you are, kitten.”

Kitten? That’s a new one.

Shut up and stay in character , fuck.

I was so fucking screwed.

“ So… will you be gentle?” I whispered , “ I don’t want it to hurt.”

Jungkook wrapped his arms around me rolling over and taking me with him till I was lying flat on top of him.

“Then how about this angel? You can ride me…. As slow and gentle as you like. Make yourself feel good on my cock, yeah….?”

I stared at him.

I’m gonna fuck you and you’re going to do all the work.

He’d played me like a fiddle.

“Well baby? Go on…. Take my pants off.”

I exhaled angrily, before moving down, to tug on his pants. He helped me take them off kicking off his boxer briefs as well.

That’s a beautiful dick. Objectively. Very pretty.

Shut the fuck up.

“ Get it wet for me baby….” He said softly. I glanced down at the hard length of it, jutting out of the small thatch of hair and felt my mouth go dry . Which would be counterproductive if I wanted to get it wet. So I swirled my tongue around my mouth, trying to get my mouth moist, before leaning down and carefully wrapping my lips around the head.

Fuck, he tastes good.

I shook my head a bit to clear the voice in my head, glancing up at him with my lips stretched around the soft pink head and he was looking right back at me, eyes heavy and dark .

“Go on baby, take more of it in, use your tongue…make me feel good.”

I closed my eyes, letting the spit coat the hard length of his cock, sinking down till the tip began to inch down my throat. I sucked lightly, running my tongues back and forth on whatever skin I could touch and it was like sucking a lollipop except the lollipop was thick enough to stretch my mouth wide and hit the back of my throat.

I felt his hand reach into my hair, gripping hard and I whimpered.

“Be gentle…” I whispered, pulling off and his eyebrows shot up , clearly in surprise . He stared at me for a second, as though considering my request and then his fingers loosened , threading through the strands soothingly.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He whispered . I went back to sucking him off, somehow my natural tendency to work hard making me bob up and down, using my tongue and taking him as deep as I could. I felt a sick sort of satisfaction when he moaned in pleasure and for some damn reason I wanted to draw more sounds out of him.

This is a dream. Either that or you tripped over a pothole and fell into another dimension.

“ Are you wet ? Come here, so I can check….” Jungkook said softly and I pulled off moving up to straddle his hips. I flinched when he reached down, tracing my slit with carefully fingers before slipping in two. I tightened against the intrusion, still sore on the inside and he pulled his fingers out, bringing them up to my mouth.

“Suck…and get them nice and wet if you don’t want it to hurt.” He said quietly and I wrapped my lips around his fingers, letting my spit coat the slender digits.

When he pushed them back into me, the slide was easier , wetter and I gripped his shoulders, trying to relax around him. It felt foreign but also good… I felt good…

I stared down at him, the broad muscled body and the handsome face and for a crazy moment I imagine what it would have been, if I had married him. Would it have been this….this… weird pleasure that was somehow both painful and exhilarating at the same time. I bit my lips as he curled his fingers inside me, rubbing at some spot high up inside me that sent heat shooting straight up my spine, slick dripping out of me and onto the hard planes of his stomach like honey from a comb.

“Now sit on my cock.” He said quietly. I trembled, reaching down to lightly grip his cock, moving till the head lined up right against my slit or where I thought my slit was. Biting my lips, I lowered my body, feeling my body cleave to let him in, his cock pressing in and in and in.

My knees gave out and I slid down the length of him, the sudden, incredible fullness knocking the breath right out of me.

“ Fuck…baby….you alright?” He whispered and it messed with my head, the way he actually looked concerned and worried and I couldn’t take anymore of it.

“Please… Please… I just… I want to go home…” I whimpered, feeling full and stretched out, my thighs trembling and my insides wet and warm and somehow stuck between wanting more and wanting it to end.

Jungkook grunted, fingers curling over both my hips and lifting me lightly and with ease.

“Come on baby…. Ride me….” He whispered, “ Put your hands on my chest and roll your hips, up and down .”

I did as he said, one hand braced against his chest, the other gripping his shoulder as I tried to move on him but it was hopeless. I had no energy or inclination to do this and the pleasure was fast ebbing into frustration. Jungkook seemed to sense it because he growled.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking bad at this… Fine… Just lay there and let me use that stupid cunt of yours.” He snapped,  gripping my waist and folding his knees just enough to brace his feet on the bed. I gasped as I got lifted a bit , his cock slipping in impossibly deeper , the tip nudging close to my cervix , the lightest brush of it send sharp jolts of electric pain pleasure up my spine.

“Oh fuck,..” I breathed as he pistoned into me, hips hitting my ass with brutal force as he fucked up into me and I could only tremble, eyes fluttering shut, fingers going numb from how hard I was gripping him.

“You’re gonna cum today… I’m gonna make you cum on my cock…” He growled, reaching down and pressing his thumb against my clit, rubbing softly, slow circles that were almost gentle compared to the brutal pounding oh his hips and I felt my mouth go slack, wetness slipping out of my tongue and dripping down my chin because of how excruciatingly good it felt, having him so deep, pressing in against the edge of my womb and I and to press my palm, right up against my belly , stunned because of how my body seemed to open and shift to make room for him.

“I’m gonna cum inside you, right inside your womb, fuck…. Gonna carry my babies for me, right sweetheart? Gonna watch you get round and full with my seed , watch you drip milk all over me with those beautiful tits….fuck…”

The shock of his words sent me over the edge, my body clenching down on him as I came, my orgasm so strong that I felt like I was cramping up on the inside and I toppled forward onto him, landing on his chest and bouncing a bit. Jungkook grunted a little, wrapping both his arms around me, holding close as he fucked me right through the aftershocks, body stilling only when I stopped shuddering and I felt warm wetness spill inside me, so deep that I knew I would have to swallow three morning after pills after this, although I was on birth control.

Because one could never be too sure with these things.

Jungkook stayed still under me and it took me a few seconds to catch my breath. I finally levered myself off of him, legs shaking as I rolled over and onto the bed before breathing in huge lungfuls of air.

“Can I go?” I choked out.

Jungkook grunted. “ Get the fuck out of here.”

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

When I stumbled out of the cab, exhausted and out of my mind with self loathing, I didn’t expect to see Hoseok sitting on the pavement outside the bakery, leaning against a streetlight, face warm but determined.

“Hobi?” I asked stunned. “ What are you-“

He cut me off with a kiss.

I stared wide eyed as he pulled me into an embrace, wrapping me in warmth and scent of his cologne, his hands impossibly gentle around me as he all but cradled me against his body, his lips moving gently against mine.

“Elena…” He breathed against my lips, eyes glinting . “ I love you. I’ve been in love with you for years. I’m so fucking sorry for being such a coward but you deserve to know… you deserve to know how I feel about you.”

I stared at him in disbelief, my heart pounding as I punched his chest in desperation.

“No… No fuck you… what are you doing…. He’ll kill you…” I hissed and he tightened his arms around me.

“I don’t care.” He hissed. “ I don’t… I can’t just… I can’t let him hurt you like this. I won’t. I’m going to tell him. I’m going to tell him to let you go or lose our friendship.” He said angrily and I trembled.  

My heart raced because Hoseok was the only one I’d ever loved. In every way a girl could love a boy. He was and had always been this confusing breed of brother and friend while everyone had drooled after Jeon Jungkook , I’d always been drawn to him…drawn to his quiet strength and to the way he had always treated me as an equal…

But… but Jungkook…. Jungkook who would put a bullet in his brain without a thought if he thought that Hoseok was trying to move in on something that belonged to him…..

“Hoseok…just… Don’t. I… I love you too…” I breathed out, tired and scared and so fucking worried because what if someone was listening even now..what if word got to Jungkook and he tried to hurt ….i couldn’t even think it.

“Come find me when Jungkook is busy . When he can’t find us…” I said softly, reaching out and pressing my palm against his face.

“I’m not scared of him.” Hoseok growled  and it was ridiculous.  

“But I’m scared of losing you. “ I said quickly. “ We can’t… He can’t know. Ever.”

Hoseok nodded before pulling me close again.

“Was he too rough?” He whispered and I blinked, flushing. I shook my head.

“No.. I. No. I think…”

“I hate that he was the one to touch you, first. You.. You deserve to know how good it can be…. How gentle.. I want to… fuck…” He shook his head pulling away and I wrapped my arms around myself.

“We can’t…” I said quietly. “ you know we can’t.”

He glanced at me, eyes blazing and lips parted and I groaned.

“Don’t look at me like that Hobi…” I whispered, shaking my head.

“Tomorrow. He’s going to Jeju Do , to inspect a new resort. He won’t be back till the day after. Call in sick at work.” He said quietly and I bit my lips, feeling a bit like a whole idiot.

I nodded.

He reached forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

No self preservation skills at all, I thought miserably.  

If Jungkook found out…….

Author’s Note : I’ll add the taglist here tomorrow

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Investigations (Part 3): Ran Haitani x Fem!Reader

synopsis: when things are uncovered, can you handle the truth? Or are you doomed to make a mistake you can't rectify?

wc: 2.1k

tw: violence

masterlist

song recommendation:

Ran's past was a lie.

When you met him at the country club five years ago, your pasts had been explained in hushed tones and excited flurries of memories; sharing photos of the time before he was an executive of the communications company he worked in and the time before you were a journalist.

Ran said he had gone to jail twice, both for crimes he had been an accessory to as a delinquent kid, but that he'd cleaned up his act after and made his way up the corporate ladder. Nothing about gangs or being a Heavenly King in Tenjiku made it past his lips.

You had been honest, too. Your tales included the time you'd accidentally happened upon a massive gang fight, and that's how your investigative journalism skills began to bloom.

Who was fighting?

What were they going to do after?

Where did these gangs come from?

When did this argument start?

Why were they fighting?

How did gangs form in the first place?

Those were all the questions you sought out answers for that night and the next five years after, devoting your time and effort to finding the truth about everything.

"Babe?" You freeze, hands hovering over the keys at the sound of Ran's voice. You don't turn around - you can't even look at him the same these days - but he fixes that by walking over to you and turning you around in your chair. "What are you doing up so late?"

"Just doing some writing." His violet eyes search yours for the truth, but you know he won't be able to find it. Not while you're still trying to unravel his past. Ran kisses your eyelids sweetly, cupping your face in his large palms and littering his love across your face as you try your best to remain still and not confess about your research.

"Come to bed. It's late."

"I've got a few more paragraphs," you explain, motioning to the small print on your screen. "I'll be in bed soon."

But your lie is discovered shortly thereafter. It's five a.m. when Ran returns, seeing you slumped against your desk, arms cushioning your head, laptop screen blank. Instinctively, Ran pulls you out of your seat - making your notebook fall to the ground - grunting softly as he scoops you up into his arms and cradles you against his chest.

You willingly allow your husband to carry you to bed, where your two-year-old is also nestled among the sheets and pillows, thumb tucked into his mouth. And for a moment, Ran appreciates the view, seeing the two people he loved the most - besides his younger brother - laying in the bed he paid for, in the house he built, in the city he owns.

But then he remembers the slight disarray you left your things in at the desk and returns, picking up your pencil and notebook before laying them beside the laptop. Then his eyes catch "Ran's past?" written in bold, red letters, along with the words: "Tenjiku" and "Tandai" also written in the web of other words surrounding his name. "South Terano" is also on that web.

He'd have to take care of that in the morning.

And for the first time in a long time, worry bubbles to the surface of his mind, and Ran rips the sheet of paper from your notebook, tossing it into the kitchen trashcan and considering his deed done. He concealed his past to protect his family. And he's concealing the present to achieve the same goal; all for the future to be revealed later. That's how everything should be.

Right? _____________________________________________________________

"Ran," you whisper, lips running across his knuckles. His fingers cup your jaw, and his own lips press against your forehead, violet eyes darkening slightly. "It's six am. Where are you going this early?"

"I have to go into the office for a little while," he murmurs, kissing your forehead again. "I'll be back around lunchtime." Thoughts of Tandai and Tenjiku flash into your mind for a moment, but you smile at him sleepily anyway, absolutely sure these things are part of his past and not in the present.

"We'll be waiting for you, my love."

Despite all of your best intentions, though, you can't help but be consumed by the idea of Ran out, fighting, stealing, maiming... You consider asking him about these things, these concerns, but you decide against it as you're helping Kai with his lunch. If he wanted to leave it in the past, there's a good reason for it. He would have told you if it would be a problem later. Right?

Ran wouldn't jeopardize your family, your home, your life for something so... juvenile.

Right?

The clatter of keys on the counter in the living room brings you back to the present, and you perk up, your two-year-old mimicking your expression.

"Daddy!" Kai slides down from his seat and runs to greet Ran, clutching his father's legs with all his little might.

"Hey, buddy," Ran laughs, stooping to pick up his son with excitement. "How are you doing?" As son and father have a very stimulating conversation about playtime, you watch them in wonder, observing the way Ran makes his child a priority, just like he makes you a priority. But your countenance falls as soon as you see the blood spot on the bottom of Ran's lavender suit jacket. You know its blood because of the way it dried - that's no ketchup stain.

You fake a smile anyway, giving Ran a kiss on the cheek and tugging his jacket off after he sits Kai back on the tile floor.

"Hard day?"

"Kind of," Ran mumbles, and you catch the sight of a long scratch down the side of his neck. "But I made it through." You hum, taking the pin-striped jacket to the laundry room and slinging it over the side of the washer. You'd need that later.

"Need to relax?" you wonder, and Ran grins at you mischievously.

"Maybe later, after bedtime?"

_____________________________________________________________

But "later" never came.

Instead, Ran and Kai fell asleep on the sofa, watching a kid's movie, and you retreated to the office, powering up your laptop and pulling your notebook closer.

You immediately notice something's wrong, as the notes you had before were missing. Everything is gone. Not even a word of all the research you had done was there. Hadn't you written meticulous notes and names and things about Ran's past that could be interconnected? You break out in a sweat and search in every drawer of the desk, every place it could possibly be. You come up with nothing, and let out a frustrated sigh before slumping down in your seat and pulling up the computer history from yesterday. If you had to rewrite every single thing, that's fine. You'd just need more time to gather your evidence for the meeting on Saturday.

You're knee-deep in articles and police reports when you stumble across a more recent - actually as recent as this morning - article titled: "Ex-gangster found dead in meat factory". The picture of South Terano startles you, and you click on it, feeling a sense of dread as the article details how he was found hanging upside-down in the warehouse with a bullet hole in his head. And just like that, your newest lead has fizzled out. You groan, writing down "South Terano, deceased" on your notepad, then exiting the tab.

There had to be someone else you could ask. Shuji Hanma only provided you with Ran and Rindou's names, no one else.

"What's this?"

The door to the office shuts softly, and you look over your shoulder at Ran, who is walking toward you with measured steps, his eyes taking in your exhausted expression and the way you're hunched over that notepad. Again.

"What are you doing? You look tired, babe. Let's go to bed, yeah?"

Suddenly, pieces begin to click as Ran leans his hip against the desk, staring down at you in the chair with squinted violet eyes. "You threw away my notes... Didn't you?"

"What are you doing in my business, y/n?"

"Why didn't you tell me that you were in two gangs?" you counter, fingers shaking slightly. "Ran, this is something I needed to know before--"

"You wouldn't have married me if I told you." Ran's tone is cold, almost as if he's turned into the past version of himself without batting an eye.

"You don't know that." Ran leans forward, coming to eye level with you a smirking.

"I know you. And that's all I need." Ran reaches out a hand to close the laptop, still smiling and maintaining eye contact. "Now here's what you're going to do. First, you're going to stop digging into my past. There's nothing there that you need to find. Second, you're going to come to bed. It's late, you're tired. Finally," Ran cups your chin like he did this morning, except his fingers aren't so tender this time. "You're going to cut off contact with both Shuji Hanma and Taiju Shiba. I'm not really fond of either of them, and I'm not a fan of having them tell my business to my wife."

"They were only doing it because I asked."

"Taiju, maybe. Shuji isn't so eager to fuck you. I doubt he did it out of the kindness of his heart." You can't say anything to refute his claims. Ran is probably right. But you can't get one question out of your mind.

"Why are you trying to hide your past? What's there that I won't like?"

"What isn't there is the real question."

"What can you tell me about the gang that's just surfaced in Tokyo?" Ran's face slackens, transforming into a half-surprised, half-blank look that you realize is one that means he's been caught. "Oh, my fucking god," you breathe, tears stinging your eyes. "South, the fish, the murders, the crime... It's you. It's been you this whole time. I've been chasing my own husband down." Panic begins to set in, and your mind whirls around as you shake in your seat, bringing your hands up to your head. "Just tell me Rindou isn't in this," you breathe, but Ran doesn't answer you, still wearing that dumb look on his face. You let out a cry of shock, covering your mouth and trying to back away from Ran as much as you can.

The source is a lot closer than you think.

You slide down the wall, shocked into stillness as your sobs quiet, and Ran straightens up, placing his hands in his sweatpant pockets. The long nights, the early mornings, the bloodstains, the damn suits... It all led to this. Ran had never really left his old lifestyle behind. He'd gotten caught up in it, and brought you and Kai into it unknowingly.

"I never meant for it to get this... unhinged." You can't reply, tucking your knees into your chest as you stare past Ran and at the opposite wall, wondering how you'd missed the signs, the obvious signs that Ran was up to no good. "I know this is a lot to take in, but we can--"

"I can't stay here."

The words fall from your mouth and Ran flinches, shaking his head.

"No. You can't leave."

"Yes, I can," you mumble, standing and wiping your tears. "I can do whatever I need to do to keep Kai safe, and--"

"Kai is safer here than out there," Ran snaps, pointing at the window. "I'm not letting my son out of my sight. Your snooping has caused enough trouble as it is; I wouldn't have had to go and clean up this morning if you hadn't--"

"Don't blame this on me," you retort, pointing at Ran accusatorially. "You're the one who joined a gang and is still in one! What kind of role model are you for our son now?"

"I provide the best way I can," Ran grits out, clenching his fists. "You've never gone hungry, cold, or ill-clothed a day in your life while you were with me."

"I would rather die than enjoy a life paid for with blood money."

"Blood money? You really think--" You try to push past Ran, but he grabs your shoulders, yanking you back in front of him. "You're not going anywhere except to our bed."

"Let me go, Ran Haitani," you mutter, hands balling up into little fists. "Or I'll scream."

"Who will hear you? Kai?"

How had you been so foolish? Ran's lips press together momentarily as his violet eyes run over your figure, taking stock of all your five-foot-six stature. You're no match for Ran. Not mentally, and certainly not physically. Ran notices your defeat and his hands slide down to your wrists, tugging your delicate hands up to his chest.

"Everything will be fine," he whispers, drawing you close. "I'm taking care of us. Just trust me."

Just trust me.

[mxvladdy]

Lost Affections: Part 3

Ayyyyoooo. Here is the last part to @marymaryroo's request!

On to the next one :)

Magic is a beautiful and powerful thing. It permeates the Devildom like an eternal fog. For the residents, it is as common as breathing. From the strongest of their kind down to the lowest inhabitants, it is integral to their culture and daily life. Mistakes and accidents happen daily with young and old alike learning or experimenting. Magical rebounds and mishaps mean very little to them, especially the brothers. From the Celestial Realms down, they have seen it all.

Sometimes they forget that to you, magic can be a volatile and dangerous.

Beelzebub

Beel would never call himself accident-prone. He didn’t trip and stumble like Belphie when sleep deprived. He most certainly wasn’t as bad as Mammon when he was without his glasses or contacts. No, he would never say he was that bad. While not clumsy he knew he could be careless, especially when food was in the picture. He didn’t think twice about eating random things. It did hurt anyone, not physically. Sure, Luke and Satan got a little put out when he swiped something, but it didn’t hurt them.

He just forgets sometimes that you are different. You and he go together so well he forgets that you aren’t a demon. You don’t have the steel stomach or fast recovery time that he has. You make up for it. When you go out to eat you always research the place ahead of time. Does the place have non-enchanted food? Human grade options? If not, you make sure that Beel has his fill before taking him somewhere more appropriate for your stomach. Neither of you thinks about residual contaminants.

His life with you unravels with kisses. It is a slow, inconspicuous death. It builds over time with each brush of his lips to yours. Neither of you notices the taste of magic clinging to his mouth or tongue, neither of you thinks of the implications of all the weird potions and food he samples.

It starts small, you forget simple things about him. When his club activities ended, or what his favorite post-game drink was. He brushes it off, it’s trivial really. You are busy and these things can happen to the best of them. He keeps brushing off the nagging worry until he can’t.

It comes to a head one night at the door to your room. “Beel?” You yawn, pulling your robes closer around you. “What’s up?” You glance down at the box of snacks and pillows in his hands. “Did I miss something?”

“It’s date night.”

Your brows shoot up, facing heating. “What.” You sputter. Beel frowns, placing the box at his feet. With slow movements, he places his hand on your forehead. You were a little warm.

“Mmmmm.” His hearts flutter with nerves. Was his little human sick? He ignores the way you stiffen when he touches you. “Do you need a doctor?” He asks bending down to look you in the eye. He catches a whiff of something when you exhale. It is faint but clings to your breath, it’s sickly sweet and sharp to his nostrils. “You need a doctor.”

Without a second thought, he grabs your arm and drags you out of your room. His food forgotten in the hallway with your protests buzzing in his ears. “Beel...Beel!” You stumble after him. He ignores you each step he takes determined and picks up speed. Before you know it you are sitting next to Gluttony in Purgatory waiting for Solomon, beyond confused and anxious.

You fidget on the couch, peeking glances at the troubled look on the red-heads face. This wasn’t like him. He was a man of few words, sure, but this was new. Beel left you to your devices mostly, a few polite conversations here and there, but you two never hung out a lot. You zone out when he starts talking to Solomon. You were still half asleep from Beel waking you up. You had been sleeping so soundly beforehand. “Are you alright?” You jerk awake unaware that you started dozing again. Solomon crouches in front of you.

“I think so?” You had no idea what this was about. “I’m just tired.” The mage says nothing to you, instead turning to glance at Beel. He jerks his head to the door, a clear signal for the old demon to wait outside.

With one last pitiful glance, Beelzebub leaves the two humans to converse. “Now then.” Solomon rounds his piercing eyes back to you. “Tell me how's your stay in the Devildom?”

You tell him confused but willing to play along with his odd request, the sooner you wrap this up the sooner you can go back to bed. An odd feeling of missing something begins to grow as you tell him. Soon you began to fumble, the harder you try to recount something the harder it was to collect. You still were convinced anything was seriously wrong but the growing look of concern on Solomon’s face was making you think otherwise. “So,” You finish rubbing your knees with sweaty palms. “I’m I dying or something?”

He laughs dismissing the notion with a wave of a well-manicured hand. “No, no your soul is still firmly in place.” He rubs his chin. “But you have lost your memory, only when it comes to Beelzebub though. It is very peculiar. Have you ingested anything weird of late? Done any experiments with Satan?” You shake your head. To the best of your knowledge, you have been really careful with your food intake while down here. Devildom foods were delicious but had potential side effects for you and Solomon.

Solomon nods. He figured that. “Could I draw some blood? It sounds to me like you might have trace contamination of some kind. Diavolo and I discussed that this might happen but I wish to double-check.” Well, that’s worrisome, you nod and begin to roll up your sleeve. Solomon bustles collecting a few vials and a mouth swab for extra measure.

“Thank you.” He smiles looking at the samples with scientific glee. “I will let you know what I find. Until then, I guess just go about your regular day. Unless you feel ill, in that case, come to me immediately.” With that, he leaves you depositing you back with Beel.

The walk back to the House was more subdued, both of you were confused as to what to do next. “So,” You flounder. “We were-are an item?”

He shrugs looking down at you. “Yes. We’d hang out in your room on Saturdays, and get brunch on Sundays... do you still want to?”

You shrug feeling awkward. You felt nothing but platonic friendship to the large demon, though Solomon did fill you in on what you apparently have forgotten. “If you want to? I’m up now, and too nervous to sleep.” Beel grunts clenching his fists at his side.

“No,” He shakes his head. “You should rest, even if you can’t sleep. This is overwhelming. I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow?” You feel bad. He sounds so hopeful when he asks, like a good night’s sleep was all you needed to fix whatever this was.

You reach for his big hand and squeeze it. “Sure, Beelzebub. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He lets you go watching you head back into the house. Running on instinct he turns and heads into the dense forest surrounding the house. He needed to hunt for a bit.

That’s how his twin finds him, gorging himself on the fauna of the forest. Belphie’s socked feet pad loudly over the dried grass and scattered bones of the once lush lowlands. “You know Lucifer is going to be pissed. It takes forever for the wildlife to come back after one of your benders.” He tosses his oversized pillow onto the dead grass and lays down. Belphie doses for a moment, the sound of his brother’s many mouths and whistling of wings a white noise to him. Up until an obnoxious locus landed on his nose.

“Beel.” He flicks the bug off his face, shooting the swarm coating his brother’s skin a sour look. “What’s going on?”

Forgot. Me. One of his mouths rattles out, flecks of meat and vegetation falling from between crooked and jagged teeth. Another opens near his rib cage to speak. They. Don’t. Love. Me.

“I’ll kill them.” Already Belphie is back on his feet. He feels for his brother and his plight, but the thought that you betrayed him after you promised to never hurt Beel took precedence. The storm of bugs goes quiet, all the millions of eyes now turn to him. They jerk and twitch in unison before converging back on the mass of leathery gaunt skin of his brother. His human form takes shape slowly, shiny wings and many mandibled skulls melding together to create his flesh.

Beel grabs Belphie’s shoulders. His claws dig into the soft fabric of his nightshirt. “It’s not their fault.”

“Then who?” Beel chuckles weakly at his brother’s blood lust. He couldn’t deny that he felt it too, but he had no idea where to channel this anger.

So he ate. It calmed him a little. If he could get into the village and eat there...no. The last time he siphoned the emotions from the populous at large Lucifer got mad. The whole of the Devildom had to shut down for a good week to recover. He rubs his stomach a feeling of agitation growing in the pits of them. “Don’t know. Solomon is taking a look at it.” Belphie snorts a sneer growing on his lips. “He is helping, Belphie.”

“Sure-right. That boy meddles in all shorts of shit he shouldn’t. Careful he doesn’t try to bargain with your skin for this.” He eyes where your mark rests on his brother. It would be a perfect lure to entrap his twin in a pact.

Hmm.

No, none of this would do. Belphegor would rather die than let some human-like Solomon meddle anymore in his family’s affairs, and as far as he was concerned the moment you started seeing Beel you were as another sibling. “Come on. Let’s get you back to the house. I’ll bring dinner up to our room.”

After settling Beel under the covers of his massive bed Belphie went on the hunt for more food in the kitchen. He stops by your bedroom door picking up the box of goodies still left in front of it. He piles more things into the box when he reaches the kitchen. Swiping up snacks at random Belphie piles the box sky high. His hand stops over a few of your favorite human snacks. Should he? Honestly, it was a blind shot in the dark if it would comfort his brother or not. After a bit more debate Belphie puts the chocolates back, a different idea already turning in his head.

Back in their shared room, he listens to his brother run down the last week between huge bits of sweets. As he recounts every little thing that has gone down they both began to notice just how strange you have been. Both twins sit in the aftermath of Beel’s words, a wasteland of wrapper and silence stretching between them. “Think it will come back?” The twins lock eyes, Beel’s large and unsure but simmering with foolish hope.

“Possibly.” Belphie grits out, breaking their eye contact. He could never lie to his brother, at least not to his face. “Get some rest. I’m sure someone will have a plan in motion by tomorrow.” He’ll set his plans in motion tonight.

Lying in wait some hours later Belphie listens through the walls of the massive house for your quick little human heartbeat in your bedroom. He matches his shallow breaths with yours feeling yourself slip into slumber and his realm. Once you are completely under he drifts off himself.

He enters your dreams and scowls unused to stumbling inside of a dreamscape. Your dreams are muddled and clotted with stick webs of confusion and hazy memories. Odd bits and pieces of images drip around the edges of your mind. This place was a disgusting mess. With a deep sigh, Belphie begins trudging through the quagmire.

He peers around making note of the black holes in your mind like canvas ripped from their frames. Rotten magic assaults him from all sides. Stopping in front of a particularly deep gash in your mind he rolls up his oversized sleeves finding what he was looking for. He knew this memory was in it, just on the outskirts of the scene playing out. He could knit this rip back together easily, after that it should give him some clarity on the others he couldn’t place.

This was going to take a lot of energy. No one would notice if he stole some energy to get things started. Belphie smiles to himself already tapping into Lucifer's dreamscape, taking a bit more than he needed. You deserve only the best after all.

__________________

“Morning everyone.” You chirp plopping down in your chair. The brothers reply with groggy acknowledgments, completely unlike themselves. You look around at the bunch. “Are you all ok?” The group grunts collectively yawning or rubbing their weary eyes.

“Tough night.” Lucifer looks up from his newspaper. He was half-dead in his chair, a cup of coffee shaking in his hands. Asmo sits beside him looking on the verge of tears as he gently pokes his swollen cheeks and eyelids. The only two that seem to even be remotely coherent were the twins. The youngest of the two sleeping oblivious to the turmoil of his siblings while his brother stares at your every move. “Good morning Beel.” You nod feeling awkward in this shared space.

“Morning.” He smiles at you, a few crumbs clinging to the corner of his mouth. Something ticks in the back of your mind at his look. A foggy image comes to mind. It feels like a dream, but so real at the same time. It makes you nauseous, a weird sense of dejavu fighting its way to the forefront. “You ok?” He puts a hand on your shoulder.

You blink noticing the room at large turning their gaze to you. You nod, reaching across from him for some leftover food. The moment a bowl of cereal was in your hands Asmo swept you up in a conversation about his “fading” looks. You don’t think of Beel and your predicament for the rest of the day, not until Solomon invites you over to his hall for tea.

“You were poisoned.” He states simply over his sorry excuse of scones. You pause in the middle of trying to break a piece off on the table.

“I’m sorry?”

“Nothing to apologize for, unless you did it intentionally.” He laughs. “It appears to be through slow ingestion over a long period of time. The levels in your blood are staggering but not lethal. It looks like the magic took root in the temporal lobe-much like a tumor, really quite fascinating- and has been eating away at the memories of the person, or in this case, a demon that poisoned you.” Beel had been poisoning you? Solomon waves his hand at your look of concern. “I am quite positive that it was not intentional. Mind you he does find the most wondrous things to shovel down his gullet. The fact that it mixed perfectly into a potion instead of a lethal toxic is sheer dumb luck on your end.” You breathe a sigh of relief finally tossing the baked good away as a bad job. Well that's...something. At least you’d be alive to stumble around your apparent “forgotten boyfriend”.

“Any chance of fixing this?”

Solomon shrugs. “Possibly? I need more time to figure out exactly what components are involved in your test results. Then making a tonic to undo all the magic is another thing entirely.”He discusses a few other options with you for a few hours, going over in great detail the ins and outs of potion-making. Soon the windows of the sunroom grew dark, the glow of the lamps outside growing brighter so you could see the pathway back to the house.

“I better head back.” You stretch looking out into the pitch outside. Hmmm, if you remember correctly Levi should be off of work by now. He said to call when he was done to come to pick you up. As if on cue a sharp knock on the door disrupts you. Instead of a shock of blue hair, you are greeted with orange. “Oh-hey Beel.”

“Hey.” The corner of his mouth twitches in a facsimile of a friendly smile. “Ready to go?” He picks up your forgotten school bag and takes your sweater from the coat rack. With a well-practiced motion, he slings the bag over his shoulder and holds your sweater open for you. He obviously did this a lot before…

You stare back wide-eyed at Solomon who only smirks, nodding at you to hurry up.

Out the door and into the chilly night you sneak a peek at Beelzebub walking quietly beside you. He catches your look and raises a brow. “Sorry.” You feel your cheeks heat a little under his thoughtful gaze.

“About?”

“All of this.” You wave at yourself. “Please don’t feel obligated to hang out with me. Until we can get this settled. I don’t want to hurt your feelings.”

Beel grunts, stopping in his tracks by a low garden wall. “I was hurt-am still hurting.” He admits. “But this isn’t your fault, so what good does it do to blame you for it? Even if you don’t remember me as your partner, you still remember me as a friend...right?” A warm smile spreads across his face when you nod. “Then I’m ok with this. I haven’t lost you completely and even if you don’t ever feel the same way about me anymore, I think I will be ok.”

“I- thank you Beel. That means a lot.”

“Of course.” He hums. “Let’s head back. I think Asmo left some food out.”

You dream of Beel again, a weird amalgamation of scenes all tossed together in a great pile with you in the middle of it. You could do nothing but watch like a film as they rush by you in a blur. Some scenes didn’t line up right, bouncing around like a scratched vinyl, but it still made sense in a way only a dream could. You play out each dream like an actor, the script coming to you naturally with each little venette. You sit outside his locker room, a basket of food and drink in your lap, your heart fluttering in your chest. You and Beel were watching his brothers on the beach, his broad hands rubbing sunscreen into your skin. Beel walking you back to your room after a long night in the library holding your hand in his strong, sure grip. Saturday afternoons spent hopping from one cafe to the next sampling the sweets and drinks to both of your heart's content.

It grips your heart but slips away with the rise of the young morning moon.

When morning comes the night is nothing more than a few smudges in your mindscape. Yet, a light, sweet feeling stays with you. You found yourself smiling more around the redhead and gravitating to him during the day. He accepts you back with a friendly hug and a friendly ear.

He treats you no differently than you remember. It’s nice. Even if a part of your yearns to see how he treated you when you were more than friends.

You begin to get excited for when your head hits your pillow. The dreams become clearer and clearer each night. Some new pieces show up and fall into place as the weeks progress. You start seeing bits of your dreams in the day too. After-images of you hand in hand with him walking down the other side of the street. The taste of something sweet on your tongue or a familiar scent in your nose.

After one particularly vivid dream, you wake determined not to let the contents of this dream slip through your fingers. This time you dreamt of the kitchen, dirty bowls, and units scattered about the cluttered counters. You had been baking something, and failing miserably.

Sneaking down to the kitchens you pull out all the things you could remember. For some reason, this dream lit a fire in you, like it was the last piece of the puzzle to getting it all back. You don’t think, instead, you just let your body take control. You baked a cake.

Well, it was supposed to be a cake. The center was too spongy and collapsed inward while the sides were dark and cracked. The icing was badly blended and melting from the still-warm pastry. It was almost exactly like the one from your dream.

You stare at it waiting for some great revelation, but nothing comes. Great. Now what?

“I smell food.”

“Gods!” You jerk smacking your knee on your bar stool. Beel’s deep voice scaring you half to death. “Should put a bell on you.” You grin. Beel peeks his head through the door brows furrowed.

“This is familiar.” He walks in pulling up another chair to sit next to you.

“Ye?” You look back at him.

“Yes. This was our first kiss.” You drop your icing spoon. “You wanted to surprise me before a big game.” He put a finger through the thick black and purple icing and pops it in his mouth. “Ah- You forgot the bane extract...I had thought that perhaps you remembered.” The hope in his voice stung your chest.

Oh. You look down at the mess you made, whatever feelings of satisfaction are lost. “I thought I was forgetting something, but my dreams are all blurry.”

“Dreams?” Beel pauses reaching for a slice. “You dreamt of this?”

“Yes. Been dreaming about you a lot of late.” You flush. “Little things that are starting to build a bigger picture. I just had this dream of a cake and the urge to make one...so- here we are.” You wave your hand out over the messy kitchen. Sighing plopping your chin down on your palm. “Guess I can sleep on it a bit more huh?” You shoot him a quick wink and sad smile.

“Or just ask Belphie.” He shrugs, taking another large slice of the disaster. “Sounds like he’s been meddling.” That realization hits you like a ton of bricks. Damn, you could have slapped yourself. “I’m sure he meant well, but he shouldn’t force you if you don’t want to. I could tell him to stop.”

What! No! You shake your head. “No. I-I don’t mind it. Solomon has yet to figure anything out, and whatever your brother is doing seems to be helping a little.” Beelzebub said nothing to that and just continued to eat while you started the dishes.

“Do you want to end tonight like we did before?” He asks sometime later, half of the dishes now drip drying in the rack. His long arms box you in on either side holding on to the lip of the sink. His head dips low, his chin resting on the top of your head. Deep down you knew that you could leave at any time. His grip was loose and easily breakable, considerate as ever to your comforts.

You turn to face him, a soft look crosses his face. “And how did it end?” He grins moving closer. You would have to thank Belphie for his interference. Just, perhaps later. You doubted he would want to be in your dreams tonight.

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Pedro Pascal’s Characters

updated: 09/10/2021

Fic Ratings (read warnings in fic for details):

(G) General Audiences

(M) Mature

(E) Explicit: only suitable for adults

-> fake dating Drabbles with all the dude’s  <-

Home (M)

It’s been a long day year for Javi and all he wants is to go home.

Leave the light on (G)

Sleeping with the lights out seemed like a thing all the people do. So you told him how you struggled with it, after you almost fell asleep at a stake out he made sure you would feel safe from now on. 

switch (E)

When your new hot neighbor turned out to be no other than Javier Peña, the Agent that would join one of your Departments with you as his Superior, things should get a little more complicated. But somehow they didn’t…

Missing you (G)

A gala from the American embassy in Bogota lets you finally run in the man who you left without saying goodbye almost two years ago.

mix up (E)

A mix-up with the building's laundry was all it took to get what you always secretly wanted.

late night calls (E)

It all started with a phone call to the DEA office to tell Javier about the surgery of his father. You had insisted to take care of him after Chucho told you about the surgery. That you would fall in love with his son you had never met before? Just as surprising to you as it was to Javier. 

Night shift (E)

Meeting Javier during one of your nightshifts at the hospital turned into falling in love with him. But working different shifts can be challenging, yet you somehow make it work.

Whiskey, Cigarettes and Condoms (E)

You are working in a shop and your most interesting customer is the hot guy who buys XL Condoms every single week. Until he stopped.

Don't you want me (M)

6 years passed since Javier made the one decision he wished he could take back. What happens when he meets the one woman he ever truly loved?

Decisions (G)

You find your boyfriend cheating with one of your friends after getting home from work and call the person you always call when shit hits the fan.

Drabbles:

answering machine (G)

It's been two years since you heard Javier's voice. That didn't mean you weren't talking to him.

-> inevitable (series; M->E)

All your life you thought that there was no way the prophecy would come true. That was until you answered a distress call from a certain Mandalorian.

firsts (G)

Din knew it was the best for the kid to go with the Jedi. But on his way back to… he didn’t really know where, there was only one person he would allow to see how sad he really was. 

saved (G)

Being saved during a battle by a Mandalorian might have been faith for Alana and her little daughter Leila. 

my girl (E)

A Mandalorian crashing into your backyard and ruining your business might have been the best thing that ever happened to you.

Watch me (E)

You try to tease the Mandalorian after taking a skinny dip in the lake. He’s not having it.

drabbles:

one day (M)

One day you would get Din out of his armor to swim with you. Today you succeeded... partially

Happiness (G)

Din finds happiness. And his son finds his old armor.

prompts:

" I know we're not together but I might die today so I'm going to kiss you just in case there is no later" (G)

thots:

Din been jealous (E)

The baker’s daughter (E)

Mydra never thought she would end up in the local brothel, but after her father died, and she was too young to take over his business as the local baker, she found herself agreeing to what was proposed to her. So she lived at the local brothel, watching the girls and boys work, observing, until one day she finally would be ready to let one man be her first. That she would form somewhat of a friendship with the Prince of Dorne was as surprising to her as it was to him.

My flower (E)

Falling for the Prince of Dorne after he took you in, letting you work as his maid, was not something you (or him) planned. But when he found you sleeping in his bed, wearing his cloak, you were about to find out that maybe it wasn't just you who had fallen in love.

One step ahead (E)

When you took the job you knew that he might be there. Breaking up with him because of your ego was a mistake. But you were here to do your job. Weren’t you?

Drabbles:

caught (E)

It was a hot day in Sunspear. With the Martell family gone for travels, you wanted to sneak into the royal pool to cool down. Never thinking that maybe you weren't as alone as you thought.

and then the world stopped (E) Part 1 Part 2

Vic wasn’t unhappy when she moved with her husband to Washington D.C. She was happily married, had a new job as a teacher and was trying to get pregnant. But after a year of trying still nothing has happened. She didn’t know that just one accident of the nanny of one of the children in her class was about to change her whole life.

two lives (M)

Dave never planned to cheat on his wife. He never planned to fall in love with another woman. He never planned to live two separate lives. And he never planned to be attending the funeral of the love of his life after their mission went wrong.

second chance (G) (sequel to two lives)

7 months passed since Dave found out the woman he loved didn't die. Would she ever remember him?

disobedience (E)

Working as the babysitter for Dave York’s daughters came with all kinds of benefits. You didn’t mean to become one of those people. The typical cliche of the babysitter sleeping with the father of the kids you were watching but there was something about him you couldn’t stop thinking about. This is also how you found yourself at the only place he told you to not ever visit him, wearing nothing but a coat. The CIA offices.

private show (E)

Monica was struggling to give her two daughters everything they deserved. When Dave York walks into the Diner she worked in one night and offers her a job at his strip club, things begin to change…

Dance the night away (E)

He didn’t look like he could dance Salsa. But oh how wrong you were...

strictly professional (E)

AU: You were tired of handling your boss' affairs. Not because that wasn't part of your job. No. Because you wanted to be his affair. His only affair. And you had a plan for how to get there. Even if it meant blackmailing your boss Dave York.

unusual love(rs) (E)

When your husband Frankie proposed seeing other people while he’s gone for work you were hesitant at first. Until you found just how much he liked the idea of you with another man…

-> love(rs) (E)

Frankie is home and he hasn’t stopped thinking about the video you sent him. Now he wants to watch live. And participate.

found (G)

Dave and you had been friends for 20 years. You watched him get married to another woman and become a Dad, ignoring the constant heartbreak it was causing you cause you were in love with him. Four months after his death you receive a postcard with cordinates. What would you find?

to die for (G)

The man who broke your heart comes back to protect you from the man you were falling in love with.

one wish granted (G)

You could have wished that the man you had loved all your life finally would love you back. It was him granting the wishes after all. Instead, you wished you had never met him. That you really didn’t remember him maybe was the punishment Max deserved most.

Paris (G)

Maxwell Lord left after everything that happened with the Dreamstone. But a little part of you hoped you would see him again.

changes (G)

On your way to your last day at work before you start a new job you almost got ran over by a dog (and a boy). Thankfully a handsome stranger is there to help.

Neighbors (M)

After breaking up with your fiancé you find yourself moving back in with your brother and his daughter just outside of the city. Marcus Moreno is his neighbor and he really does take his neighborly duties to heart. Including taking care of mowing the lawn when your brother had to leave for work for a while.

Yes, Mr. Moreno (M)

With Missy moving out of the house to go to college Marcus felt more alone than ever before. When he met his daughters college roommate at a diner in the middle of the night he made a decision Missy could never find out about

-> Yes, Mr Moreno - The first time (E)

Marcus takes Alice home. She stays the night.

Going back home Masterlist (series)

Claire never thought she would be back in the town she grew up in. But after her fiancé broke off their engagement, leaving her 5 months pregnant and alone she found herself calling Frankie Morales in the middle of the night, one of her childhood friends who insisted that she booked the next flight out. Trying to fix her life with a little help from her friends she would find out soon that going back would be the best decision she ever made.

Distraction (G)

Meeting a single Dad on the plane back to the states was maybe just the distraction you needed to get over your fear of flying. 

Nap Time (E)

Sometimes you and Frankie just need to have some alone time when the kids are napping.

Drabbles

Guy’s night (M)

You let Frankie decide how he wants to end his guy's night...

throwback (G)

Teenage you had bn head over heels for Frankie Morales. What happens when when your best friend takes you out on a double bind date almost 20 years later and your date is no other than Frankie?

Friday's at Frankie's (G)

After a week gone for work you come home to Frankie and his daughter

drabble about Frankie taking care of you when you have cramps

-> Sunday Morning (M)

You wake up in Frankie’s arms on rare quiet Sunday morning.

prompts:

you're sick, and we can't kiss, and it's , fkn, torture (M)

Max Says... (E)

Max remembered your aniversary and planned a trip to New York City. You gifted him the one thing he always wanted. Allowing him to use his mind control on you.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Do you have a list of first kiss recs?

Hey Nonny!

Ahhh okay, so I was initially going to tack this onto another person’s ask because I usually combine the First Kiss and First Time fics together, but then I realized that First Kiss can happen without the First Time, and I’m sorta dumb, so FOR THIS LIST, it’s gonna be mostly fics ONLY TAGGED First Kiss (I usually go “first kiss/time” if both are in the fic), so this is pretty much a T-Rated list, hee hee. So YAY another excuse for another new list hee hee!

Again, if anyone has any First Kiss fics WITHOUT the first times or it’s G/T/M rated, let us know!

FIRST KISS

See also:

First Time || [MOBILE]

First Time Pt. 2

First Time Pt. 3

His (Again) by patternofdefiance (M, 820 w. || Fluff, John Comes Home) – John wonders how he had never seen this before, never noticed before, how happy Sherlock can look, and also how lonely.

Tap by doctorcaseyholmes (G, 896 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Morse Code, First Kiss, Love Confessions) – Sherlock finds an unobtrusive way to let out his feelings for John.

First Kiss by jawnandsharklock (NR, 1,119 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss, Fluff) – "Look into the mirror. Do you see your mouth? Good. Go two inches to the right from the right corner of your mouth. Then two and a half inches up. Stop. I said two and a half inches, not five. There you go. Right there. That’s where this story begins. Or maybe that’s where it ends. Or maybe it’s all the same."

Ex by Itsallfine (T, 1,248 w., 1 Ch. || Angsty Fluff, Love Confessions, Coming Out, Exes, First Kiss, Fake Relationship, Getting Outed) – One night, in the midst of their post-case high and on the cusp of something more, John and Sherlock run into John’s ex. His ex-boyfriend.

Upon Reflection, Tenable Frippery by emmagrant01 (T, 1,299 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4, John’s Beard, First Kiss, Fluff) – John was, inexplicably, growing a beard.

A Better Fate Than Wisdom by flawedamythyst (G, 1,339 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss, John’s Sexuality Crisis, Pining Sherlock, Happy Ending, Fluff) – Nearly four hours pass between their first kiss and their second.

I love you, I say by khoshekhskitten (G, 1,576 w., 1 Ch. || Pre & Post TRF, Hurt / Comfort, First Kiss, Love Confessions) – "I love you" is a phrase that follows John Watson through his life with Sherlock Holmes.

Santa Knows by Itsallfine (T, 1,719 w., 1 Ch. || Christmas Party, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Fluff, Matchmaking, POV Sherlock, Pining Sherlock) – Sherlock and John both get exactly what they want from the Yard's secret Santa exchange. Pure holiday fluff.

There's Always Three of Us by Itsallfine (T, 1,765 w., 1 Ch. || S4 Fix It Fic/Post TFP, Parentlock / Rosie, Angelo’s, First Kiss, January 29, Love Declarations) – Sherlock takes John and Rosie out to Angelo's and gets a chance to correct the biggest mistake of his life.

Christmas by thegirlinthedeathfrisbee (G, 1,768 w., 1 Ch. || Mistletoe, First Kiss, Fluff) – John goes home for Christmas -- to the Holmes home, that is.

Want by siennna (T, 1,806 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Pining, First Kiss, POV Sherlock, Requited, Second Person POV) – When John speaks, you hear more than words. You hear the rise and fall of his tone, the comfortable quake of his laughter, the warm pauses of silence in between. When John laughs, there are stars glittering on his tongue and galaxies resting just behind his teeth, and you wish you could press your lips there and burrow into the warm sound. Part 6 of sienna’s favorites

The Stranger by LaKoda0518 (T, 1,844 w., 1 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, Fluff, First Kiss, For a Case, Mysterious Madman, Lonely John) – John Watson is standing on the platform waiting to board a train to his sister’s after being invalided home from Afghanistan. A chance meeting with a mysterious madman turns his world upside down and changes his life forever.

Through A Glass by Mildredandbobbin (M, 2,012 w., 1 Ch. || Voyeurism, Masturbation, First Kiss) – There is an adjoining door in the bathroom at 221B that leads into Sherlock’s bedroom. The door, from the bathroom to Sherlock’s bedroom, is made of three glass, semi-opaque panels. It has suddenly come to Sherlock’s attention that if he stands in exactly the right spot in his bedroom he can see through said panels, and more to the point, can see John.

Duvet (green) by Mazarin221b (G, 2,021 w., 1 Ch. || Post-THoB, Mind Palace, Revelations, First Kiss) – Sherlock recalibrates and restructures his mind palace so it looks like 221b. What he chooses to put in John's room is a bit of a surprise, and a revelation.

The Marriage Proposal Negotiation by Goddess_of_the_Night (G, 2,161 w., 1 Ch. || Dev. Rel., Possessive Sherlock, Insecure Sherlock, Fluff, First Kiss, Post Mary) – Sherlock hasn't ever really done anything the traditional way, so of course it wouldn't bother him to propose to John even though they're not even dating. And the fact that John is already on a date with someone else when he decides to do it? Tedious.

The Case of the Made-Up Case by DoubleNegative (T, 2,394, 1 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Clubbing, First Kiss, For Science, Humour) - Sherlock takes John to a club. For a “case.” Yes, John, a case. Part 1 of The (Secret) Adventures of Sherlock Holmes

John's Drawers by JezebelGoldstone (T, 2,646 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, First Kiss, Romance, Humour) – Sherlock snoops through John's drawers and finds something. . . unexpected.

Crime Scene Procedure for Death by Drowning by paxlux (T, 2,668 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TGG, First Kiss, Sherlock’s Violin, Fluff) – He lies back in bed and listens to the notes and pictures them gathering around Sherlock’s feet like water. Part 1 of proper procedure

There'll be people By Ariane DeVere (T, 2,739 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Romance, Angsty Fluff, First Kiss) – There's a reason why Sherlock doesn't travel on the Underground, and it's not because he's a snob. John learns the reason the hard way. Although, given the conclusion, maybe this one Tube ride wasn't such a bad idea.

Let Go by thisisforyou (G, 2,743 w., 1 Ch. || Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Fluff, Anxious / Worried Sherlock) – In the end, separating John's things from Sherlock's in the chaos of their sitting room is like pulling a limpet from a wet rock. Especially when the rock is clinging on for dear life, because Sherlock doesn't want to let go. Short, fluffy h/c Johnlock oneshot.

Closeted by Sexxica (E, 2,762 w., 1 Ch. || Trapped in a Closet, Panicking Sherlock, Hand Jobs, Coming in Pants, Awkward Conversations, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Fluffy Ending) – An improvised hiding spot and a bit of accidental voyeurism leave John and Sherlock in an awkward position.

BBCSH 'How To Save A Life' by tigersilver (T, 2,784 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss, Angsty Schmoop, Requited Love) – Pining, requited, and unabated spates of 'first kiss' fluff. Post Mary, AU, mildly cracky. John lays a smooch on Sherlock's nape in passing. The world does that thing it does when it wobbles and Sherlock practically falls off his own pins. Part 1 of 'How To...'

Better Late Than Never by sussexbound (NR (T), 3,021 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4 / TFP Doesn’t Exist, Sherlock POV, Love Confessions, Drunk Sherlock / Sober John, John Takes Care of Sherlock, First Kiss, Jealous Sherlock, Emotional Turmoil) – He suddenly wants John Watson out of his bedroom, out of his flat, out of his life, because he has been lying to himself these last few months, he realises. He doesn’t want John here, not with the way things are. He doesn’t want 221b Baker Street to be nothing more than rest stop John returns to on his journeys between women. He doesn’t want to play co-parent if Rosie is going to be snatched away from him and placed in the arms of whatever nameless woman du jour John lands on next. He doesn’t want to keep being so careful, so generous, so, so…

The General Idea by agirlsname (T, 3,022 w., 1 Ch. || Retirement, Promise of Forever / Proposal, POV John, First Kiss, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Soft Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Crying / Emotional Sherlock, Love Confessions) – After twenty years of friendship, John is used to Sherlock acting weirdly. But the news Sherlock finally brings himself to deliver change the carefully built dynamics between them, and John realises it's time to act.

Until the End of the World by SarahCat1717 (G, 3,049 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, First Kiss, Pining Sherlock, Oblivious John, Drunkenness) – Taking place in Season 3, John listens to an old favourite song and sorts through his memories and feelings about Sherlock and Mary.

The Sweetest Taste In The World by crossroads (G, 3,121 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss, Jealous Sherlock, Fluff, Pining, Friends to Lovers) – The sweetest taste in the world is rarely ever the easiest to come by.

On a Sunday Morning by SD_Ryan (G, 3,136 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, First Kiss, Obsessive Sherlock, Pining Sherlock) – Sherlock has a little problem. He can’t stop obsessing about John Watson.

it’s in the details by kimbiablue (T, 3,272 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, First Kiss, Pining Idiots) – Sherlock and John meet with a forensic artist to determine how capable they are able to describe each other. In which John struggles to adequately describe Sherlock Holmes, and also thinks about his lips a lot.

Wish I Was In Heaven Sitting Down by standbygo (M, 3,282 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4, Five Plus One, Missing Scenes, Parenthood, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hurt/Comfort, Declarations of Love, Fluff, Food, John Whump) – Five times when Sherlock and John ate together, and one time they didn't. A history of the boys, in food.

Atrium by kali_asleep (T, 3,460 w. || 5+1, Valentines Day, Fluff & Schmoop, First Kiss) – Five times Sherlock gave John his heart, and the one time Sherlock got a heart in return (literally).

Water Is Another Matter by cathedral_carver (T, 3,903 w., 1 Ch. || Sick Fic, Pining, First Kiss, Heat Wave, Skinny Dipping) – He thinks it’s in trouble, his poor heart.

Last Christmas by Mazarin221b (T, 3,911 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Pining Sherlock, First Kiss) – That Earth-shaking revelation, then, leads to a problem, and one that Sherlock realizes should be solved quickly, before John’s dates turn into girlfriends or boyfriends, because sometimes girlfriends or boyfriends can turn into wives or husbands while your back is turned. Every time John hums happily at the mirror as he shaves, splashes on a little gift cologne Mrs. Hudson bought him for Christmas, Sherlock is drawn back to that night by the fire, and the way John’s touch had made the world stand still.

Five Times John Cooked Something with Peas and One First Kiss by 221b_careful_what_you_wish_for (T, 3,915 w. || 5 and Ones, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Cooking / Food, Sick Sherlock, Music, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss) – After John cooks five dinners that slowly reveal their hunger for each other, Sherlock and John finally share a first kiss.

Jukebox by standbygo (T, 3,990 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Singing/Music, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Hurt/Comfort, Humour, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss) – After the music halls of Sherlock's mind palace get damaged by accident, John learns that Sherlock never forgets a song. Even the ones he'd rather forget. But the random singalong brings some unexpected benefits.

The Oolong Disaster by unicornpoe (T, 4,151 w., 1 Ch. || John’s Beard, Fluff, Humour, Frustrated Sherlock, John Takes Care of Sherlock, Case Fic-ish, Pining Sherlock, First Kiss, Possessive Sherlock) – John has a beard. Sherlock has a panic attack.

Because Blah Blah Blah Happy by cwb (E, 4,578 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Cuddles, Kissing, First Kiss, Requited Love, Pining Sherlock) – John is entirely done with the milk situation and gives Sherlock a list of shit he's pissed about. Sherlock sets out to make John happy. John is happy. Sherlock makes his own list. They are both very, very happy.

We Bleed into the Grey by QuinnAnderson (T, 4,989 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss, Supernatural Elements, Fluff & Angst) – It was stupid, really. What was the point of having an ability if it wasn't even a useful one? Sherlock would just as soon be rid of his. Until he meets John Watson, that is.

A Study in Intimacy by doodle (T, 5,183 w., 1 Ch. || WEBARCHIVE LINK || PODFIC AVAILABLE || First Kiss, Virginity, Romance, Touching) – People don't touch Sherlock Holmes, not like they touch other people. Then he meets John Watson.

Welcome Home, John by slashscribe (G, 5,504 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S3, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Awkwardness, Stabbed Sherlock, Protective Sherlock, Panic Attack (Sherlock), Self Esteem Issues, Love Confessions, First Kiss) – When John moves back to 221B, he thinks he’s the broken one, but after a while, it becomes clear that he might not be correct.

Stranded by BeautifulFiction (T, 5,798 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss, Communication / Relationship Discussion, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, BAMF John, Doctor John, Case Fic, Drinking, Huddling For Warmth, Friends to More) –  When stranded on a derelict barge at high tide, John and Sherlock reconsider their friendship.

Closeted by sussexbound (T, 6,115 w., 1 Ch. || Love Confession, First Kiss, Games, Trapped in a Closet) – Sherlock and John get trapped in a closet while on a case. Some revelations are made while they play a game to pass the time. Part 1 of Intimacy

Disguises are always a self-portrait by yellowteapots (NR (T), 6,223 w., 1 Ch. || Case Fic, First Kiss, POV John, Fake Rel.) – Sherlock and John head out of town on a case of murder / suicide at a Pride Fest.

Survival Instinct by shirleyholmes (T, 7,162 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF, First Kiss, Schmoop, Nightmares, Fluff & Angst, Grief, Idiots in Love) – After Sherlock's "comeback" John starts obsessing with constantly making sure he's alive (checking his heartbeat etc.)

The Light of Day by allonsys_girl (M, 7,297 w., 4 Ch. || First Kiss, Angst, TSo3-Fix-It, Possessive Sherlock) – Rewrite of the end of Sign of Three. John actually notices Sherlock leaving the reception early, and chases after him. Angsty Johnlock. Happy ending, for sure. Part 1 of The Light of Day

Speak My Language by Itsallfine (T, 7,479 w., 4 Ch. || Thanksgiving, Love Languages, Love Confessions, First Kiss, John Experiments in Sherlock) – When Mrs. Hudson introduces John and Sherlock to the concept of the five love languages, Sherlock descends into a dark mood and John’s curiosity gets the better of him. What is Sherlock’s love language, and why does the whole concept set him so on edge? Part 1 of A Holiday Triptych

The T-Shirt Thief by watsonsherlocksuniverse (T, 7,968 w., 5 Ch. || Pining Sherlock, Doctor John, First Kiss, Canon Fix-It, Developing Rel., Mutual Pining) – Sherlock steals John's t-shirt from the laundry. John catches him wearing it one evening, fluff ensues with an endeared yet teasing John?

The Engine by stitchy (T, 8,294 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss, Post-HLV, ASiP Do-Over, Sci-Fi, Time Travel) – Shortly after the events of His Last Vow, Sherlock has an opportunity to revisit the night of A Study in Pink and get some perspective on the destiny of he and John's relationship.

Never Been This Swept Away by estalita11 (T, 8,531 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TAB, Mary is Not Nice, Drug Use, First Kiss, Love Confessions) – Set immediately after TAB, Sherlock visits his brother to definitely not apologize about earlier and ends up finally learning a few things that would have been nice knowing about months ago. Mycroft never wants to deal with lovestruck idiots ever again.

High Tide by stardust_made (T, 8,540 w., 1 Ch. || Jealousy, Angst, First Kiss) – A little favour Sherlock stupidly agrees to do for Mycroft leads to John meeting a handsome, affluent man, who is going out of his way to woo him. Sherlock struggles with the situation and with his own reactions to it. Part 1 of The High Tide Series

Ravish Me by amalnahurriyeh (E, 10,025 w., 1 Ch. || UST / RST, Makeup / Lipstick, Sympathetic Sally, Experiments, Pining John, First Kiss, Face Fucking / BJ’s, Cuddling) – Sherlock is experimenting with patterns of wear on lipstick in daily encounters. John is going to go insane.

Their Great Reward by BeautifulFiction (T, 10,095 w., 1 Ch. || UST, First Kiss, Fluff) – Boxing day, in John's opinions, is the worst day of the year. Christmas is over, the tree is wilting and stripped of gifts, and there's a week of dead-time until the clean slate of the new year. However the combination of a blizzard, a power-cut and Sherlock might just make it a day to remember.

The Most Luminous of People by liriodendron (M, 10,979 w., 4 Ch. || Synesthesia, Pre-Slash, Developing Romance, First Kiss) – In which Sherlock Holmes finds out what it's like to truly want something, John Watson isn't too bad at deductions, and everything gets a bit bright for a minute. Part 1 of Conductivity

Say For Me, Love by MirabileLectu (T, 13,147 w., 1 Ch. || UST, First Kiss, Drama, Pining John, Victor Trevor) – If you had asked John this morning what the result of his quiet afternoon at home would be, discovering a truth about Sherlock's past startling enough to shift the foundations of their friendship would not have been his first guess. So naturally, that was what was bound to happen.

Licence to Kiss by fellshish (T, 13,739 w., 4 Ch. || Post-ASIB, Sort-Of Bondlock, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Angst and Humour, Bed Sharing) – Sherlock loves John, and John loves... James Bond. He only made Sherlock watch every single film. Tedious. And now John's birthday is coming up. Sherlock can't tell him how he feels, but he can organise an amazing gift: John's very own spy adventure. Sherlock begs Mycroft for a real case with some extra gadgets. And perhaps some actors pretending to be criminals. What could possibly go wrong?

On The Fence by BeautifulFiction (T, 13,770 w., 1 Ch. || Fencing, Case Fic, First Kiss, Insecure John, Pining John, Hug, Greg Finds Out) – The murder of the King's College fencing champion leads to revelations about Sherlock's past. Will it be the point that tips them from friends to lovers, or will they remain on the fence?

Hallowed Eve by EventHorizon (T, 14,750 w., 6 Ch. || First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Halloween) – It probably wasn't the smartest idea to let Sherlock choose the costumes for Halloween, but John never considered himself the smartest man in the room, anyway.

Wonderful, Etcetera. by VictoryCandescence (T, 16,955 w., 3 Ch. || Wonderful Life AU || Alternate Timelines, Brotherhood, Homophobia, Suicidal Ideations, Mentions of Drug Use, Friendship, Different TRF, Sherlock’s Past, Victor Trevor is Past Boyfriend, Depression, Hallucination, Love Confessions, Christmas, First Kiss) – Sherlock thinks everyone would be better off if he had never existed, including and especially himself. When he finds himself in a world in which his wish has been granted, he begins to think perhaps even he could be wrong – but it takes an unlikely chaperone to make him not only observe, but understand.

Let's Make a Bed Out in the Rain by theimprobable1 (M, 17,664 w., 11 Ch. || Pining Sherlock, Angst & Fluff, First Kiss, Unrequited, Jealous Sherlock, Protective Sherlock) – John is devastated after his long-term girlfriend leaves him. Sherlock helps him through it.

You're On the Air by prettysailorsoldier (M, 20,616 w., 1 Ch. || Unilock, Matchmaking, Radio, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Sherlock POV, Pining Sherlock, Flirting, Bisexual John) – The Consulting Detective and The Woman dominate the airwaves of their university radio station, doling out advice on everything from meeting the parents to sexual positions. When their ratings start to dip before the holidays, however, manager Mike thinks it's time for some fresh blood, and who better to fill in the gaps than rugby captain--and notorious flirt--John Watson? Part 1 of 25 Days of Johnlock

Another Auld Lang Syne by DiscordantWords (M, 30,234 w., 31 Ch. || Post S4, Mutual Pining, Alternating POV, Introspection, Parentlock, Christmas, New Year’s, First Kiss, Past Drug Use, Angst with Happy Ending, Drinking, Sherlock Whump) – There had been years of missed chances.

The Winter Garden by Callie4180 (T, 31,213 w., 13 Ch. || Post-S4, Retirement, Christmas, Slow Burn, Grown-Up Rosie, Parenthood, Rosie’s Cat, Angst with Happy Ending, Holidays, Beekeeping, Magical Realism, Sherlock POV, Sherlock’s Violin, Future Fic, Sussex, Honey, Magical Healing Honey, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Scar, First Kiss, Touching, Mycroft is Dying) – As Sherlock nears the end of his career, he's given the gift of a cottage in Sussex. The honey from the beehives out back is amazing. Almost...magical.

Chaperones by MissDavis (T, 34,114 w., 7 Ch. || 11 Years Post-S4, Fake Relationship, Parentlock, Disney World, Bed / Room Sharing, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, First Kiss, Obsessive Sherlock, Insecure John) – Right. Of course. Everyone assumed they were a couple and no one would question it. John put his elbows up on the table so he could rest his head in his hands. "You want to pretend to be a couple so we can chaperone a trip to Disney World with Rosie's class and you won't have to share a room with a stranger?" "Exactly." Sherlock beamed at him. "Don't worry about the cost. The Birmingham case last month paid more than enough to cover expenses for all three of us."

we have never seen a greater day than this by Lediona (T, 36,420 w., 7 Ch. || A Royal Night Out AU || WWII / VE Day, Prince Sherlock, Soldier John, Alternating POV, First Kiss, Bittersweet Ending, Homophobia, Dancing) – Peace. At long last. It’s VE Day and Prince William desires to join the celebrations. It is a night of excitement, danger and the first flutters of romance.

Inscrutable to the Last by DiscordantWords (M, 48,842 w., 6 Ch. || Post-TRF, Alternate S3, John’s Blog/S3 is a Story By John, Divorce, Marital Difficulties, John is a Mess, Emotional Reunion, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Grief / Mourning, Pining John, First Kiss, Adorably Clueless Sherlock, Nostalgia, Love Confessions, Eventual Happy Ending) – He wasn't Sherlock, he couldn't work miracles. All he'd ever been able to do was write about them.

Given In Evidence by verityburns (M, 97,884 w., 19 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Angst, Drama, Case Fic, Romance, BAMF!John, Submissive Sherlock, First Kiss, Humour) – Coming back from the dead can be a complicated business. With a new case on the horizon, rebuilding a life is one thing... rebuilding a friendship quite another. For Sherlock and John, things may never be just the same...

Definitions by siennna (T, 101,528 w., 12 of ? Ch. || Dev. Rel., Pining, Fluff and Romance, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Fluff, Cuddles, Girl’s Night, Texting, Virgin Sherlock, Drunk Sherlock, Background Mollstrade, Hair Petting, Laying on Lap) – Sherlock’s journey in defining his flat mate and stumbling through the muddled world of emotion. {{This feels complete; the chapter count is listed as ? but I feel like it is done}}

[melis-ash]

have you watched elite's season 4 finale already? what are your takes on caye and phillipe? no judgements here tho, just want to know your opinion on them

 Hello, nonny! Yes, I did. My opinion about Caye and Philippe has several different aspects (which a litle bit conflict with each other).

Lets write long post.)) Sorry for mistakes and typos, English is not my first language and I`m not really good with grammar.

1) Caye and Philippe story is feminist retelling-reverse of the Beauty and the Beast, where main characters didn`t became couple and The Beauty left her Beast not for Gaston other romance, but for her own path. And their relationship helped the Beast to realize his past mistakes and make to want to fix it, even if it`s too late . Comparing with many other things in that season that storyline was not bad. Really. There MANY problems with s4, I think the best stolyline had Rebe and Mencia, it was really good, and in my personal opinion, despite many flaws, Caye and Philippe storyline is second one for me. Kinda it was not really good, but it had plot, idea, composition and message. Writers knew very clear, what they tried to say, and despite obvious lack of screen time, they handle it, and this story, despite it doesn`t connect with main plot, resonate with main storyline on the level of their ideas. (About it later.) I know, Georgina is feminist, so I wonder, could she give some advice writers? Kinda “it can work better if...” something like it.

2) Personally I`m very disappointed how OOC was Caye in that season and how few screen time she had. For me Caye from s4 feels like too much different person than in s2-3. I wanted character development for her, but something more slow and realistic. S4 Cayetana feels like all her character development happened between s3 and s4 (and partly in special, which really was very good), and I don`t believe in it. Caye from s4 is good character, but there is no real connection with Caye from s2-3.

I knew, she was very upopular character in s2-3, so maybe creators afraid to gave her too much screen time. But also they still wanted she was part of story and write redemption arc for her. And honestly, anon, these two thing can`t work together well. When you write redemption arc for well written nuanced character that Cayetana was in s2-3, you need give character enough screen time and nuances. But it seems, s4 writers don`t care enough about writing S1-3 characters in character. In s2-3 Caye was bad girl, but also she was comedy relief (but s4 has very few comedy moments), she had family (where the fuck her mother and granddad now? We know only that her mother cannot work in Las Ensinas, but don`t know, why), we saw, that she did`t sleep almost, because she learn in Las Ensinas, worked as janitor and still hung out with rich kids. (I think I began feel compassion for her, when realized it). It that seson she almost has not other scenes than with Philippe. OK, she was pariah in school during previous year, but if writers began that things with Caye and Rebe friendship, can they continue it. Rebe and Caye both had problem with their love interests and they never discussed it. Only time they speak about Philippe was in 402. Also Benjamin fired Azucena, and wanted to expel Samu and Omar, but Caye still works there? And Benjamin still protects her even? Why? I mean, after whole thing with scam in s2. Maybe it because protection of Polo`s mothers, but it never was said in s4 even. It seems, Benjamin knows things about her story with Polo (like he knows about Philippe`s past), and it could be really interesting possiblity to bring on scene that aspect of situation and Benjamin`s character and him and Caye interaction. 

Also there is something with Georgina`s acting in s4, in most of scenes she acts as different character, so maybe it was and her (as actress) decision too. I wrote before, she is feminist, and maybe she wanted to bring more feminists vibes in s4 Caye, because it makes storyline works better? Given how few connection with previous seasons on script level her s4 story had, it make sense even, it`s just feel OOC for me, because Caye is not feminist at all. She is strong and ambitious, but she is not type of women what call themselves feminists, and when she said “I became my own Fairy Godmother” in s2, she meant that she was forced to do it. Caye was girl who wanted to be princess from old school Disney animation. In s3 she wanted to live and study on Polo mother money in London and was fully OK with it. When she refused their proposition, it was because thoughts, that Polo could be alive and even more or lesser happy in other school without those her messages, haunted her. Plus when Polo died, he thought Caye was with him more because his money than because Polo himself. I remember, in her first scene Caye read  The Second Sex, but it was spectacle for her schoolmates. And when she spoke with them about her fake rich life, it always was “look how rich and glamour I am”. Partly she spoke in this way because she knew very few about rich people`s life, but also there were some of her dreams. She wanted to be rich and and be part of this glamour life. In s3 she became in some way, and she had a lot of possiblities to understand how many shit, pain and tragedies can hide for glamour facade. Theoretically she knew it before. But she was exctremely poor, so it was a little bit difficult for her to think about it too much.

3) So I think more mention of Caye`s story from s2-3 could make her and Philippe story better. Philippe himself have same problem as Polo in some way: he is rich guy, and his mother indulged him too much. Caye saw how Polo`s mother indulged him and saw where it ended. Not good for Polo and many other people. Marina and Polo could be alive and Samu`s family could live with him in Spain, if Polo`s mothers raised their son better. Even if Caye don`t care much about Guzman or Samu and she never knew Marina, she had enough time between seasons to reflect of situation. So with more s2-3 reference that “matter of education thing” Caye says to Philippe`s mother could sound not only as sort of feminist  slogan, but as something very personal and painful for Caye. She was in love with boy, who was spoiled too much by his parents (like Philippe), and it brought a lof pain him, his friends, Caye. I don`t say there are not at all attempts include previous Caye experience in s4. For example, when Caye does google research about Philippe and finds nothings, she is still suspicious because she know, how easy money could erase some thing.  Also that thing with Pilippe`s mother. I think after conversation with her,Caye realized that Philippe`s and Polo`s promblems had very much same roots. But such moments really have not enough space. Guzman had at least one scene, where he speak about his reflection on s1 evens (where he compares Mencia and Marina). I would like to see something like it with Caye.

4) Many things in Caye and Philippe storyline feel offscreen. We know they regularly talk in school, but see very few of it etc. Actors have good chemistry, and since they both like fashion design, it feels enough for beginning of communication, plus Caye had crush on Philippe long before they met, plus she was first who was really friendly with him in new school (in some way it`s repeat of Caye and Polo story, but with more positive vibes). But I want to see more illustration, why Philippe fell in love with Caye so much.

5) Now about Philippe himself. I saw many hateposts and hatecomments about him, and it`s really funny, because I constantly see how many people in this fandom love Polo and think he deserved better, despite Polo is murderer. Yes, he killed Marina out of emotion, but she is fucking dead. She will never resurrect. Guzman will remember till grave that his best friend killed his sister and then was killed by Guzman`s ex-girlfriend, because policy failed to handle their job well. Samu`s brother was forced to left Spain because it. But it took 2 seasons for Polo to understand he needs go to policy and confess he killed Marina. Caye didn`t understood how wrong her actions were till Polo`s death. I don`t know how long was Elodie`s rape, but at least Philippe didn`t need someone`s corpse to realize his mistakes. Inside standart of this show that guy isn`t hopeless. “Everybody deserve second chance” was important point in Caye`s story in s2-3, so now I wonder how writers will play this card in s5 in relationship between Philippe and Caye. 

Also I want to say I was wrong, when doubted in Pol Granch acting, he`s good additon to Elite cast.

6) Caye x Philippe storyline and main storyline. In that seson Elite brings of scene, in additon of another murder and drug traid, sex crimes. Prostitution, rapes. It`s interesting, that connection here takes place through Ari, girl, who has serious problem with sexual behavior, when she`s drunk. She`s know it`s perfectly, but also she knows, that when woman says “no”, it`s means “no” and end of story. I really like her role in Caye and Philippe story and I hope in s5 there will be at least some scenes with her and Caye. Also interesting point were Ari`s word that she never report to the police without prove. It feels ambigous. She knows, Phillippe is not angel at all. But also there is other side of coin. I think, she also knows, reputation can be ruined very easy. During s4 there was subplot with discussion club. And Samu speak that ex-criminals cannot become somebody else, even if they wants. Their reputation in society was ruined. In final of Philippe story he sent Elodie his confession. So maybe writers tried to write about theme “can criminal, who admitted his mistakes, to became somebody else?” through season and I think they will continue it in s5.

Sorry if this all sounds muddled and too long. Maybe later I will make some additon into reblogs to this post, I don`t know.

[noelliza]

The Pursuit of Two Left Feet Ch 2 - Anderperry

Hey guys! Here‘s the final part of the fic. I hope you enjoy it! You can also read this on ao3 here.

Summary: Neil made the mistake of telling Charlie about his feelings for a certain poetic blonde, and in true Nuwanda fashion, he got up to some mischief. Now, stuck in a plan to sneak out of school to go to an underground swing dance club, Neil has to make the best of it and pray to God his father doesn’t find out. Hopefully, Neil will get something out of this excursion, perhaps the heart of the object of his affection. He believes it’s nothing more than a dream, a wish. However, Todd Anderson falling for Neil is more likely to happen than he thinks.

Part 1

~

Neil, Todd, you two ready for tonight?” Charlie asks, wiggling his eyebrows as he peeks his head into their room Friday morning.

“As ready as ever,” Neil says, the pit in his stomach growing at the reminder. He still doesn’t know what he’ll do if and when his father finds out.

Charlie pats the doorframe and winks at them before disappearing down the hall.

Neil turns to Todd who’s putting his sweater on, not phased by Charlie’s appearance. “This is not gonna go well,” Neil grumbles.

Todd laughs as the two grab their bags and decide to head down to breakfast.

The whole school day Neil’s thoughts are directed to the vision of sitting in Nolan’s office with his father, his life officially over. If this goes south, Neil’s father will never let him down for it. He wants to have faith in Charlie, but part of him struggles to. Charlie doesn’t care about getting in trouble, he wants to get kicked out. Neil just doesn’t think he’s really thinking this whole thing through.

During english, Neil notices that Mr. Keating shoots him a couple knowing looks, a flash of a smile that’s gone before Neil can process it. It makes him nervous, wondering if somehow he found out about their plan and therefore so did Nolan. Keating would never fink, but Charlie isn’t particularly great at keeping his mouth shut.

That night, Charlie grabs Neil’s suit and drags him to the bathroom,  shoving a hair comb and gel into his hands.

“Charlie, aren’t we making this a bit obvious if we’re getting ready in the bathrooms? Hager is gonna see us.”

“Relax, there’s no reason to hide. This is allowed,” Charlie says. “But I won’t be getting ready here, I have a new suit to give Todd, so we’ll be in my room. See ya!”

Before Neil can object and question his motive, Charlie is out of sight. Neil shakes his head and begins changing into the suit, trying to push back the looming anxiety of his father finding out about this scheme.

As he's combing his hair into place, he hears two pairs of feet barge into the bathroom, and in the reflection of the mirror is Charlie with Todd in tow.

“Perry! Lookin’ like a dreamboat!”

Neil nods in thanks before turning to Todd, whose mouth is open slightly, his eyes roaming up and down his body. “Um, you… you look… really nice,” Todd mutters with a gulp.

“Thank you, uh, so do you,” Neil replies distractedly, his eyes unable to focus on a single part of Todd as he takes in the sight of him. Todd looks incredible in his suit, and he’s surprised Charlie did such an amazing job dressing him. It fits him perfectly, as if it tailored to his exact measurements—he wouldn’t be surprised if that was intentional on Charlie’s part. The coat, tie and slacks are a rich navy blue with a white button up underneath, and the color makes his eyes gleam. His hair is slicked back with gel, revealing more of his face, his cheekbones appearing more prominent. It makes him look more open, soft, and Neil is completely stunned. He’s always thought Todd is handsome, but right now he’s completely mesmerizing.

“Earth to Neil?” Charlie calls, waving a hand in his face. Neil blinks rapidly and clears his throat. “Hey, your bow tie’s crooked. Todd, fix it for him, yeah? I’ll be right back,” he says, giving Todd’s shoulder a firm pat before swaggering over to Meeks who’s combing his hair at the other side of the bathroom.

“Uh, sure,” Todd stammers a beat late, his eyes darting around nervously. He steps up to Neil, reaching out with slight hesitation. Neil holds in a breath as he adjusts the tie back into place. He inadvertently stares at Todd's focused face, tempted to press a soft kiss to his now exposed forehead.

“Alright, let's head out!” Charlie shouts, motioning for them to head out into the hall. Todd pulls back, ducking his head and walking out of the bathroom in one swift motion. Neil sighs, turning his head and catching Charlie’s knowing gaze as he heads towards him. He throws an arm around Neil’s shoulder and leads him out.

Together, the boys make their way outside into the cold night, all of them chattering excitedly. Awaiting them, leaning against his car looking ready for a night out, is Mr. Keating.

Neil gapes. “Charlie, how did you…”

“Amazing, right?” Charlie says proudly, stalking off to the car.

“Hello boys, you all look fetching. Ready?” Mr. Keating greets the noisy bunch, a wide grin on his face as they approach him.

Before Neil can even say anything, he’s being shoved into the backseat, smushed between Todd and Charlie in the third row. Knox lays himself across the boys, his face right in front of Charlie’s.

“I’m liking this view,” Charlie smirks.

Knox rolls his eyes, slapping Charlie’s shoulder. “Shut up.”

“Wait, Captain, are you coming with us to the club?” Pitts asks as he slides into the second row after Meeks, closing the door.

“Oh no,” Keating chuckles, turning the car on. “I’m much too old for a hullabaloo. Don’t sweat it, this old man has plans of his own with a special lady tonight.”

The boys all holler and whistle, making Keating flush in embarrassment. “Yes, yes, your teacher has a real life too, I know it’s surprising. Let’s get rolling!” He calls, putting the car in motion.

“Captain, how did the school allow this?” Neil can’t help asking. Charlie gives him a look, but he ignores it.

“Well, they think we’re off to see an invigorating show about the life and work of William Shakespeare. As illuminating as I imagine it would be, that is not on the itinerary for you boys tonight. You’re off to a much more exciting endeavor filled with music, dancing, and a bit of romance,” he says, and Neil swears Keating meets his eyes through the rear view mirror. He looks away hastily.

“Aww, that actually sounded pretty interesting…” Cameron mutters, trailing off forlornly and glancing out the window.

Charlie elbows Neil in the ribs to make a point, and he makes an effort to hold in a groan. “We can drop you off there if you’d like Cameron?” Charlie smirks.

Neil returns the elbow in reprimand and Charlie squawks indignantly. “We can all go see that another time. I’m sure it’s quite interesting,” he says, sending Charlie a glare that he responds to with sticking his tongue out childishly. Knox snorts, resulting in a jab in the ribs courtesy of Charlie.

“Good idea,” Cameron says, his face lighting up. “You know, something  interesting about Shakespeare is that there was a seven year period between 1585 and 1592 where no one knew—”

“I’m going to claw my ears out before the end of this car ride and you’ll be next,” Charlie whispers aggravatedly in Neil’s ear.

“You’ll forget that as soon as we get there and you spot someone attractive,” Neil says wryly.

Charlie leans back, taking a deep breath with a startling, fierce look in his eye. Oh God…

“Thou doth thinketh I'm a predictable young squire? I willith kick thy bosom!” Charlie pronounces, sticking his finger in the air. Knox rolls his eyes.

“Charlie, a bosom is a woman’s chest,” Neil chuckles.

“Thine ears will suffer great of mine Shakespearean drivel until a most suffering death graces itself upon thee when mine fist meetseth thy cheek,” he says, folding his hand into a tight fist.

“I feel like you speak Shakespeare a bit too well for you to hate it as much as you say you do,” Knox prods with a crooked smile.

Charlie turns to Knox, leaning into his face. “Thou wilist meet a fate much alike if thou speaketh onward.”

“Bite me, nerd,” Knox grins.

In a blink, Charlie attacks Knox with his fingers, tickling his armpits and ribcage fervently as he cackles wickedly. Knox yelps and squirms fiercely, kicking his legs erratically, his arms flailing.

“Boy, boys, I’m all for a bit of roughhousing but please settle down until we get there,” Mr. Keating cuts in.

Charlie lets off, allowing Knox to catch his breath, and they both call back a low ‘yes, Captain.’ Neil feels Todd’s quiet laughs beside him, the breath hot beside his ear. He tries not to shiver at the sensation by focusing on the road ahead. They pass by trees lining both sides of the street, and in the distance he can see the beginnings of the town. As they proceed, he can make out the buildings, growing larger with each passing second. The illuminating signs on the buildings shine high above the people walking merrily down the sidewalk, contrasting the subdued ambience of their school. Neil thrums in excitement, and he tries to stay hopeful, pushing down the looming anxiety that this will all suddenly go wrong.

“I-I guess Charlie was right. This is working out.”

Neil looks at Todd, an amused smile gracing his face. “Yes, for now. Though any minute I anticipate something to blow up,” Neil jokes, knowing Charlie can hear him.

“Hey now, we’re off to fill our minds with the knowledge of the legendary William Shakespeare. If anything, Nolan is happy that a select few of Keating’s students seek such a riveting educational opportunity,” Charlie says in his most dramatic tone, and Knox sends him an exasperated look.

“Right.” Neil scoffs, earning poke on the cheek. Neil responds with a quick pinch on Charlie’s thigh, eliciting a yelp from him. Knox cackles as Charlie attempts to attack back with jabs to his arm and ribs, Neil giving a harder pinch on his arm. Before he can continue the attack, a hand wraps around his wrist, stopping his movement.

“I- we can’t until we get there. Captain’s orders,“ Todd says, flushing.

“It’s alright, trouble is what I live for,” Charlie says though he lets off, leaning over the seat to pull Meek’s hair. “Right Meeks?”

Neil hasn’t moved, his brain still frozen at Todd’s touch. “I- right.” Neil laughs faintly. He shakes his head and pulls his hand into his lap, ignoring the looks he’s getting from Charlie and Knox.

Neil stays silent the rest of the car ride, tuning out everyone’s voices around him. He’s fighting to ignore the feel of Todd’s leg pressed against his, the slight shake of his leg as he bounces it anxiously, the sight of his fingers tapping on his leg in repeated patterns. It’s also impossible to forget the feel of Todd’s hand circling his arm, his touch soft, almost like a caress. Neil aches to place his hand in Todd’s lap and let him hold it how he wants, yearning to feel his palm against his skin, perhaps in his own hand, once again.

Eventually, Keating pulls over in front of a lit up, cozy diner, with a neon sign hanging up titled “Leggy’s Breakfast Town.” Next to it is a smaller sign that reads, “Open 24 hours.”

"Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow,” Mr. Keating says as the boys all climb out of the car.

“Romeo and Juliet!” Knox calls back proudly, closing the door once he steps onto the pavement.

“You got it Mr. Overstreet! Have fun!” Mr. Keating drives off, waving at them through the window before disappearing down the street.

Suddenly, Neil hears a car door open. He turns to see a green car parked up ahead, and stepping out of it is Chris in a flowy, emerald dress reaching her knees, fit slim on her waist. When Knox catches sight of her, he stares, drooling.

“Hey Knox,” Chris says with a radiant smile as she walks over to the group, her heels clicking on the sidewalk with each step.

“Chris… wow, you look…” he stumbles.

“Knox, save it for the club, come on buddy,” Charlie cuts in, clapping his shoulder and steering him inside. The other boys and Chris all tumble into the diner, following Charlie and Knox into the diner. The place is packed, filled with loud families and couples, eating burgers and dipping their fries in milkshakes, so no one bats an eye as the group crowds in the entrance.

Charlie stops and looks around before spotting a waiter cleaning behind the counter. He approaches the counter and leans over, resting his elbows on the surface with his famous Charlie smirk in place. “Hello, we’re here about your duck special,” he says in a low yet overly casual tone.

The waiter, a long haired boy looking about their age, holds Charlie’s gaze for a moment before nodding. “Yes, right this way,” he says, walking toward a long hallway. Neil glances at Todd who looks just as confused as he does before they walk after them. They reach a door that opens to a flight of dark, descending stairs, and the waiter leads them down, instructing the last person to close the door behind them.

“Isn’t it a bit noticeable when they take a bunch of teenagers to the back room that they’re not here for dinner?” Neil whispers furiously in Charlie’s ear after catching up to him.

“Relax, everyone here knows about the club, but no one says anything about it. They make major dough, so no one complains. The customers get good food, and the city makes capital. It’s a win win.”

Neil shakes his head as they reach the bottom, and the waiter opens the door, revealing a huge, bright room buzzing with life. It’s packed with people dressed in their most fancy attire—women in stunning, flowy dresses and men wearing fine suits. He sees numerous couples dancing across the expansive dance floor and others chatting away with cocktails in hand and wide smiles on their faces. Neil stares in awe, taking in the sight, unable to fathom that he’s standing here right now. He’s half expecting his father to appear any moment to shut down the place, ready to drag Neil home and give him the reprimand of his life. Abruptly, he feels Charlie pat his shoulder, which brings him back to himself.

“Alright mates, I’ve got some ladies to charm and men to woo, enjoy yourselves,” he says to the group with a wink before disappearing into the fray.

Neil stands there dumbly as the other boys start wandering off into the room. Since when does Charlie say ‘mates’? he wonders bemusedly. He hears someone clear their throat beside him and he turns to see Todd still standing there, looking at him with a nervous but expectant expression. A flash of panic shoots through him. This is it, the moment he’s been dreading and waiting for this entire week. He opens his mouth, the words on his lips, and panics.

“So… a drink?” Neil suggests, hating himself.

“I- uh, yeah sure. I’ll come with you..?”

“No, no. I’ll go. Find us a table?”

“Yeah sure,” he says, looking almost disappointed.

At that, Neil flees to the bar to get away from Todd, his heart crying more the further he goes. As he approaches, he schools his features into a more mature, serious look and straightens his posture. He leans over the counter until the bar man catches sight of him.

“I’ll have your strongest, please, and something sweet,” he says hastily as the bar man walks over. He frowns slightly, but just nods. “You got it.”

When he turns around, Neil releases a long breath, slouching over the bar. He’s such a fucking coward. Charlie put too much faith in him, there’s no way he can do this. Todd is just going to reject him and that’ll be the end of their friendship. He can’t afford to lose it.

Soon, the bar man returns with the drinks before turning to another customer. Neil grabs them and turns around, taking a step away from the bar to scan for Todd. He walks listlessly as he looks, but stumbles when he catches Todd on the dance floor with some random guy.

Suddenly, he collides into someone’s chest, and he returns his gaze in front of him to see his drinks spill right onto a man’s shirt, staining the white button up red. Neil pales in horror. “Oh my— I’m so sorry, I—”

“No! Don’t worry about it, nothing I can’t get out later,” the man says, sending Neil a reassuring smile. Neil’s face heats up at the sight—he’s quite attractive. He’s tall and lean with golden hair and a charming smile. His eyes are a blinding blue, shining in amusement.

“Want this one? I have an extra. They’re not the best here, but they sure do the trick,” he says, holding out a small, dark colored drink.

“Sure, thanks,” Neil says, putting his emptied drinks onto the bar with a grimace and accepting the glass. He takes a quick sip and has to withhold a cough at the strength of the drink, not wanting to embarrass himself.

“What are you doing on your own? Come here with anyone? Surely you didn’t have two drinks for yourself,” he chuckles softly.

“Yeah, my friends,” he says solemnly, his eyes glued to Todd across the room, having a grand old time with some stranger.

“Where are they?” he asks.

Neil watches dolefully as Todd is swung around the dance floor, his smile bright, blinding. He feels the man follow his gaze and soon he makes a noise of realization.

“Ah, I get it. You like him?”

Neil flushes, almost choking on his drink. “Wha— um… it’s…”

“No judgement, that charming fella over there is my boyfriend,” he says, pointing to the far corner of the dance floor where he’s dancing with a woman around his age, tall and gorgeous. They’re moving together like water, twirling around the floor without missing a single beat. It’s incredible. “Plus, this place is meant for people like us, so don’t sweat it,” the man adds.

People like us, Neil repeats internally. He supposes the man’s not wrong. Neil has come to accept that he isn't like most other boys his age, especially not the kind his father wants him to be. He relents with a sigh. “Well, yeah, fine. I do. Like him, that is.”

The man hums understandingly, taking a swig of his drink. “Does he know it?”

Neil shakes his head. “No, it’d ruin… everything.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well… I don’t think he’s…” Neil trails off, a part of him still terrified of saying the word.

The man laughs, which makes Neil frown. “I’ve been there too. I get that it’s scary, risking your friendship like that. But that’s the thing about life, sometimes it’s worth taking that leap. What’s that one saying… carpa dem…”

“Carpe diem,” Neil corrects, hiding a smile.

He snaps his fingers. “Yes! Carpe diem.”

Neil huffs a laugh at the irony. “Yeah, I try to live by that every day, actually.”

“Well, then why is this any different?”

“Because… he’s the most important person in my life. If I lost him…” Neil swallows, looking away.

“I see,” he says, taking a breath. “Well, I’m not gonna sit here and force you to do anything, this is your life. But take it from someone who was in your shoes once. If he’s meant to be in your life, telling him won’t ruin a thing. If not, then it means there’s someone else out there who’s meant for you.”

Neil simply nods. This man doesn’t understand that no one could ever replace Todd, but he doesn’t bother explaining it. “Yeah, well my father wouldn’t be pleased by this either.”

“Not accepting?”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Neil says. “He’s trying to take hold of my entire life, insisting I have to go to Harvard, go to medical school and become a doctor.”

The man sighs sympathetically. “That’s a tough situation, what do you want to do instead?”

“Act, but that’s never going to happen,” he snorts.

“You know, my boyfriend said the same thing when he was around your age.”

Neil whips his head towards him in shock. “Really? He’s an actor?”

“Yeah, and he loved it. Now, he owns a small, local theater for children and teens in New York.

“That’s amazing,” Neil breathes.

“It is, I’m proud of him,” he says with a fond smile.

A part of Neil wonders if that future is possible for him, that despite everything, he has a shot. But even that doesn't overpower the voice in his head telling him it’s impossible, so he moves on from the thought. “What do you do?” Neil asks, taking a large sip of his drink, ignoring the burning in his throat as he swallows.

“Nothing nearly as exciting. I’m a lawyer,” he laughs. Neil nods. “Do you like it?”

The man shrugs slightly with a smile. “I do now, but I didn’t at first. Too much paperwork and talking to a bunch of stuck up people in overpriced suits. But then I got a case where I was defending this girl who was getting abused by her boyfriend. We won the case, and when I saw her face, it reminded me why I wanted to do this in the first place, to help people. It’s cheesy, but true.

“That’s really great,” Neil says.

“Thanks. But just know I’m not saying that to make you feel bad for not wanting to be a doctor,” he clarifies.

“Oh, no of course, I get it,” he says, not offended. He understands that helping others that way is their calling, but in Neil’s heart he knows it's not meant for him.

“My mother wasn’t very accepting of my choice of career either. Growing up, she wanted me to take over the family business. We own a restaurant in town called “Leandro’s Italian Restaurant.” My grandfather opened it, and after he got old, he passed it onto my mom. But let me tell you, I’m the last person you want in the kitchen. I manage to burn anything I lay my eyes on. Andrew won’t let me lift a finger when making dinner,” he chuckles.

“But she let you pursue that career instead when you told her?”

“Yeah, but I know it’s only because it pays well,” he says regretfully. “Unfortunately, that’s not always the case. Andrew’s parents were horrified at the idea of him becoming an actor. He told me about how they fought all the time, his father insisting he needs to have a real career with a steady income, but my stubborn Andy refused, of course. He worked as much as he could in school, saving up his money. Once he graduated, he got a second job and worked day and night until he was able to support himself and move out. It took him a few years to get it together, but eventually he made it onto the stage. He told me it was gruesome in the beginning, but that he’s never regretted it for a second. Such an optimist he is,” he says admiringly.

Neil nods absently, completely absorbed in the story. It’s possible, a small, hopeful voice in his head says. But that was one person… what if he’s not so lucky?

“Alright, I’ve chatted your ear off enough,” the man says, breaking Neil out of his thoughts as he pats his shoulder. “Go out there and dance! You’re young, enjoy it!”

“Okay. Thank you though, Mister…?”

“Emerson. But call me G.”

“You like poetry?” Neil asks with a playful smile.

G laughs, throwing this head back. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who hasn’t asked me some version of that question. I do, but not Emerson, funny enough. I’m more into the beat poets like Gary Snyder. Some powerful words, I’ll say. You?”

“Nice, I prefer Whitman,” Neil smiles. “Thanks for the drink!” He says, swallowing the rest before placing the glass on the table.

“Of course, don’t go too crazy though! Enough of those and you’ll wake up in the alleyway next to the diner. Trust me, I’ve been there,” G says slyly.

Neil laughs with a nod, holding G’s gaze for a moment longer before striding to the dance floor in pursuit of Todd. He supposes there's truth to the phrase “liquid courage,” because with just a glass of alcohol in his system, he feels unstoppable. Carpe fucking diem.

He taps on his shoulder and Todd spins around, his face lighting up at the sight of Neil. “Neil, you’re here! Oh, I-I’m so glad. I missed you!” Todd shouts, clearly very drunk.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he says, not feeling sorry in the slightest, “but Todd… will you dance with me?”

The guy Todd was just dancing with gives him a nasty look, but doesn’t protest. “I- of course! I’ve been waiting all night for you to ask!” Todd beams, stumbling over to him.

“Well, here I am,” Neil laughs, taking in Todd’s smile.

“Y-you should try the drinks I had. They sucked b-but my anxiety, it went POOF!” He says, making an exploding gesture with his hand, swaying closer to Neil.

“I’m glad, but I’ll try it later. Come on,” he says, leading Todd gently to an open spot on the dance floor with a guiding hand on the small of his back.

Neil takes deep breaths, trying to control his nervousness. He may have learned ballroom dancing, but swing dancing is a foreign concept to him. He’s going to embarrass himself and Todd will laugh at him. He darts his eyes around, trying to see how the other couples are dancing. As he’s about to begin his attempt, Todd takes hold of his arms, leaning in close.

“Don’t worry,” Todd says, “I-I think I have the hang of it. Follow my lead.”

Neil gasps as Todd pulls him around, bouncing on his heels a bit unevenly. Neil copies his movements, trying to let his body feel the music. The pair are off beat to the music, but Neil doesn’t care. They could be tap dancing to an opera ballad and he would be over the moon, just happy to be dancing with Todd, holding his hand and moving around the space together.

At first, Neil fumbles a bit, tripping over his feet a few times and moving his limbs in awkward motions, but eventually, he starts getting into the groove. Todd still misses a few steps every so often, but he laughs it off and warmth spreads through Neil’s chest at the sound. He laughs breathlessly, boldly deciding to pick Todd up by his hips and swinging him around his body. Todd lets out a surprised gasp, giggling as Neil moves him through the air, holding on for dear life. Neil keeps a firm hand on his waist and places him back on his feet carefully. Once Todd finds his balance, he haphazardly reaches out for Neil’s hand again, losing his grip a couple times, and twirls him around, pulling him into his chest and spinning him back out again. Neil’s heart is soaring, and he can’t hear anything besides the music ringing in his ears and Todd’s unrestrained laughter.

They dance song after song, and Neil loses track of how long they’ve been there, moving under the flashing lights and through the bodies of the crowd, throwing one another into the air. Eventually, Todd leans close to his ear, clutching his shoulder to keep balance. “‘ve gotta go to the bathroom,” he mumbles, his words slurred and breathy.

“Oh, ok! Want me to come with…?”

Todd shakes his head smiling, placing his hand on Neil’s chest. “No, no, ‘m alright. I’ll be… right back,” he slurs.

“Alright, I’ll be at the bar. I’m gonna get another drink,” Neil says.

Todd nods, staring at him for a moment before stalking off the dance floor towards the bathroom. Neil breathes out, trying to settle his nerves down. Adrenaline is coursing through his body, and his heart is thumping out of his chest. Dancing with Todd is exhilarating, and Neil could do it for the rest of his life—even as an old man in a wheelchair.

He walks off, ready to drown himself in liquor until he can gather enough courage to tell Todd how he really feels. But he’s quickly intercepted by Charlie who jumps in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Having a good time?” He asks smugly.

“Yes!” Neil shouts. “I feel… I feel so alive!”

“That’s what I like to hear!” Charlie cheers. “Next thing you know you’ll be getting at it like bunnies in the bathroom stall,” he winks.

Neil tries not to choke on air as he stares at Charlie, his eyes wide. “Charlie, stop! But it doesn’t matter, Todd was dancing with someone earlier. I don’t think he… he can’t.”

Charlie rolls his eyes, letting out an overly exasperated sigh as if Neil is out of his mind (which he isn’t). “Oh sit on it Neil, did you miss the way he looked at you? He looks like a lovesick puppy.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Neil mutters.

“Not now no, if anything I’m understating it. Go over there and swap some spit with him before I do it myself.”

“Charlie! It’s- you don’t understand. He’s my best friend, besides you of course. We… it’s not like that,” Neil stresses.

Charlie doesn’t look the least bit swayed by his words, giving him a wry look. “Neil, Todd only wants to dance with you. The only reason he was with that chump was because I made him. I know how possessive you can get.”

“Nuwanda…”

“Hey, I needed something to push him onto the dance floor, loosen up a bit, you’re welcome. Later, lover boy!” Charlie hurries off into the crowd, and Neil sighs. Of course Charlie would meddle like that.

Neil heads to the bar, already plotting Charlie’s murder when he spots Cameron leaning against the counter talking to a young, gorgeous blonde woman.

“Hey Cameron! Who’s this?” He asks as he approaches them, clapping his shoulder and turning to the woman with a smile.

“Neil! This is Caroline, she goes to Ridgewood,” Cameron says. He looks happier than Neil has ever seen him.

“Neil, nice to meet you! Cameron’s such a charmer isn’t he? I could just drown in those freckles,” she says dreamily, kissing his cheek.

Neil refrains from laughing as Cameron’s face turns beat red, more fiery than his hair. “I’m glad you’re having a good time!”

“The best! Thanks for inviting me, I know Charlie didn’t really want to,” he says.

“Oh, it’s nothing, you know how Charlie can be, he doesn’t really mean it,” Neil says with a nervous laugh, feeling guilty at how transparent Charlie’s disdain has been. He doesn’t think Cameron deserves it.

“If you say so, but you’re cool, Neil. So thanks,” Cameron says gratefully.

Neil gives a quick nod, feeling a bit embarrassed at the praise. “Course, don’t mention it. Anyway, Caroline, it was lovely to meet you, but I’ve gotta get a drink before my… friend returns from the bathroom.”

“Ooh, Todd?” Cameron ribs, elbowing him and raising his eyebrows with a smirk.

“Uh, yeah,” he stammers. Neil turns to the bar man walking in their direction as a distraction from this topic. “Excuse me, can I have—“

“OH!” Cameron lights up with a thought, cutting him off. “Get a pina colada, they’re really good!”

“You might also like a dirty martini!” Caroline chimes in, winking at him.

Neil blinks and looks back at the waiter who’s waiting patiently. “I’ll take both,” he says. The bartender nods and promptly grabs a glass and a vodka bottle.

Not even a moment later, Cameron and Caroline start making out passionately next to him. Neil turns away awkwardly, hoping that Todd comes back from the bathroom soon. He looks at the dance floor and spots Knox and Chris together, laughing as Knox spins her in the air. Off to the side, he notices Meeks and Pitts dancing to the music at their own speed, away from the throng. Charlie, however, is nowhere to be seen, which is never a good thing.

After what feels like an eternity, the bartender slides his drinks across the bar, and Neil hands him a few dollar bills. “Keep the change,” he says quickly and turns away from the bar, desperate to get away from their slobbering and moaning. As soon as he takes a step, he crashes into someone, once again spilling the drinks he was just holding. He refrains from cursing, almost choking on air when he recognizes the victim of his clumsiness as G’s boyfriend.

“Oh, hey, you alright bud?” He asks, his voice deep and warm. He’s tall with curly, brown hair gelled back, and his smile is friendly, his green eyes soft and benevolent. The drinks drip down his cream colored suit, the large stains prominent.

Neil lets out a long breath and closes his eyes. “I’m so sorry, I’m not having the best luck with carrying drinks tonight.”

“No it’s alright, now my boyfriend and I can have matching, stained shirts,” he says with a hearty laugh. Normally, Neil would feel like he’s being made fun of, but from his sincere expression, it comes off lighthearted.

“Yeah, that was me…”

His eyes widen in recognition. “Oh! He mentioned you. Neil, right? Potentially an Armstrong?”

“Yes, I’m Neil, but no, unfortunately not related,” he says with an embarrassed laugh.

“Damn, that’s too bad. I’m Andrew McDorman,” he says, holding out his hand. Neil grips it, Andrew’s handshake solid and firm. “Giovanni told me you act!”

“Well… I’d like to, yes. But, my father wants me to become a doctor,” he says, pausing as a thought hits him. “And he told me he goes by G.”

He laughs. “Yeah of course he did. He’s been trying to sound younger now, but I refuse to call him that. He’ll always be my Giovanni, even if I always butcher the pronunciation, according to him,” he says with a sappy expression. Neil can tell they both truly love each other, and it makes him ache to have this with Todd, speaking of one another fondly, others sensing how close the two of them are.

“And about your father,” he adds, going back to the original topic, “mine wanted me to become a dentist. It’s not easy, I know. You feel like you’re stuck, that there’s nowhere to go. But trust me, Neil, there is.”

“Thanks, I’m glad you were able to pursue your dreams, but I’m not sure if I can…”

Andrew sighs with a smile. “Okay, you got me”eks planning that” an idea has dawned on him. “Tell you what, you wanna follow your own path, get away from your shitty father? Our door is always open, alright? I know, I know, stranger danger, but the offer is there. Actors gotta support each other, and I wanna be able to help out someone who’s in the same situation I was,” he says earnestly, the unspoken homosexuals falling between them.

Neil stands there completely speechless, his mind whirling in a million directions. This sounds too good to be true, because there’s no way he could escape his father’s grasp. He’d track him down, make him come home and ensure he makes it to medical school. But… what if…?

“No pressure kid. Here, let me replace those drinks. On me,” he offers kindly before Neil is able to respond. He’s left with his mouth hanging open as the man passes him, walking up to the bar to order.

“Neil!”

Neil turns to see Todd walking towards him, and his distress melts away as his eyes lay on Todd. His hair is slightly disarrayed, a few hairs drooping down his forehead, his cheeks still red from the dancing. He’s absolutely perfect. “There you are,” he says breathlessly.

“Hey, there was a guy in there who said I looked like uhh Nikola Tesla,” he giggles.

“Huh, not a bad guy to be compared to I guess,” Neil says, amused.

“Here we are!” Andrew says, holding out the drinks.

“Oh! Pina colada, I had one earlier and it was great!” Todd shouts gleefully, taking the glass and sucking the drink down, practically inhaling it.

“Ah, is this your boyfriend?” Andrew asks, directing the question to Neil, handing him his martini.

“N-no I wish,” Todd answers, swallowing his drink before returning to it promptly, the glass already halfway empty.

“I- he’s had a lot to drink…” Neil says, taking a big gulp of his drink.

Andrew gives him a knowing look. “Don’t fret, I’ve been there,” he says quietly so only Neil can hear him. “Alright cool cats, I gotta scoot, have fun and stay safe!” Andrew says to the pair, giving them both a wide grin before walking off.

As Neil turns to Todd, getting the nerve to ask him to dance again, a voice booms through the room.

“All the lovers to the dance floor! For this next song, we’re going to slow things down a bit. This is a special request from a man who goes by the name Nuwanda, and this is dedicated to Neil and Todd,” the singer announces.

Neil stares at the stage, noticing Charlie standing nearby with a shiteating grin. Charlie catches his eye and winks. Bastard.

“Um, Neil?” Todd asks, his voice cracking.

Neil turns to him and stops breathing at the look on Todd’s face. His eyes are wide, appearing anxious but hopeful, like he’s placing his heart in the palm of Neil’s hand for safe keeping. Neil hopes to God it doesn’t slip from his grasp.

“Yes?” He says, almost in a whisper.

Todd slowly reaches his hand out, palm up. “W-will you dance with me?”

A smile grows on his face. “Always.” Neil accepts his hand, placing his glass down on the table beside him, and allows Todd to walk him to the dance floor. He can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or his nerves, but Neil can’t feel the floor beneath his feet as he moves through the crowd, almost like he’s floating.

When I fall in love it will be forever

Todd positions them both, placing a gentle hand on Neil’s back. His face heats up inadvertently at the touch, his back tingling at the sensation. Todd looks at him, his eyes steady. “I’ll lead,” he says.

Or I'll never fall in love

Neil smiles in response, and it doesn’t wane even the slightest as Todd stamps right on his toes. Neil breaks out in a laugh, resting his forehead on Todd’s shoulder. Todd doesn’t move or make a sound, so Neil pulls back and gives him a reassuring smile. “It’s ok,” he says softly.

In a restless world like this is

Todd looks down at his feet self-consciously and Neil tilts his head back up with a finger under his chin. “Don’t worry about it, really.”

Love is ended before it's begun

Todd takes a hesitant step, breathing out as he manages to avoid Neil’s foot. Slowly, he takes another, and another, and Neil follows, feeling gratified that Todd is so dedicated to this.

And too many moonlight kisses

Neil revels in the feel of Todd’s hand in his own, his fingers wrapped around it firmly as they step around. Until this moment, Neil hasn’t realized how desperately he needs Todd in his life. How he wants to wake up beside him in the morning, make him breakfast in bed, go on walks with him through a park full of birds and laughing children, listen to him read poetry as they sit by a toasty fire. These images flood his mind, and he’s overwhelmed by how much he craves for this to become reality.

Seem to cool in the warmth of the sun

Neil gazes into those soft, blue eyes, never wanting to escape their grasp ever again. As they stare at one another, drowning in each other, their movements slow. Neil is too distracted by the sight to acknowledge it. His body is moving on his own accord, leaning in to take in his face, the scent of strong cologne he assumes Charlie sprayed all over him.

When I give my heart it will be completely

“Todd—”

In a blink, Todd grabs both sides of his face and in a singular movement he crashes their lips together, cutting him off with a bruising kiss. Neil doesn’t react at first, completely stunned by the feel of Todd’s lips. He quickly comes back to himself, sliding his hands behind Todd’s neck, cradling it as he moves his lips, taking him in. Todd places a hand on his cheek, which sends a shiver down his neck. After a moment, they slow, and Neil gradually pulls back to look at him, aware that he’s now plunged in the water, completely head over heels for this boy.

Or I'll never give my heart

“Todd,” he breathes.

A flash of worry crosses Todd’s eyes. “Y-yeah?”

Neil stares at him before speaking. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.”

“O-oh sorry you can—”

“Todd,” he laughs fondly.

And the moment I can feel that you feel that way too

Before Todd starts to ramble, Neil shuts him up with another kiss, slotting his lips between his with a hmph. This one is softer, more tender than the last, yet just as remarkable. He pours out every emotion he can into the kiss, wanting Todd to understand how he loves every inch, every quirk, every fiber of his being.

Is when I'll fall in love with you

As the last note rings through the room, Neil hears a sudden whoop. He turns, watching in horror as Charlie barrels towards them in glee. “Fucking finally you nimrods!” He shouts, giving Neil a quick noogie. “I thought I was gonna have to smash your faces together myself.”

Neil can’t hold back a grin as he rolls his eyes. “Get out of here, you’re kind of ruining the moment, you know,” he teases.

“That was the most romantic kiss I’ve ever seen!” Charlie exclaims, completely missing the hint, or purposefully ignoring it. “Knox wishes he could be on that level.”

“Charlie, I heard that!” Knox calls, pacing over to them.

“That’s my queue to leave, see you!” Charlie says, dashing away as Knox chases after him.

Neil laughs and looks back at Todd who’s smiling dazedly at him. He swipes his thumb across Todd’s cheek, and leans in for a quick kiss. “Sorry, I just can’t help it now.”

Todd blinks. “D-don’t apologize for that. Ever,” he breathes.

“Okay,” Neil says, recapturing his lips in a searing kiss. He doesn’t care that they’re surrounded by a bunch of strangers, any care in the world is lost among the feel of Todd’s lips between his own. After a moment, Todd pulls back, his eyes taking in every feature of Neil’s face.

“What is it?” Neil asks, smiling. He hears the lively music pick up again, everyone dancing around them, but he doesn’t move.

“I- nothing I… just never thought you’d…”

“I thought the same about you,” Neil admits.

“But.. how?” He asks, astonished. “Y-you’re… you’re literally perfect, Neil.”

Neil shakes his head. “No, I’m far from it. But Todd, you’re incredible. You’re better than any dream I could ever fathom, you’re single handedly the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You always listen when I rattle nonsense to you as if every word I say is meaningful, you’re there for me on my low days, ready with an open ear and a shoulder to lay on, you write the most outstanding poetry known to man. How could I not be completely in love with you?”

Todd gapes at him, disbelieving. “You… you love me?”

Neil laughs. “Of course, dummy,” he says affectionately.

“I- I do too. Love you. I… I love you,” Todd says.

An overwhelming sense of joy floods through him, and without thinking, Neil wraps his arms around Todd’s waist and picks him up, spinning him around as he shouts in elation. Soon, Neil sets him back down and brings him into a tight embrace, nuzzling into his neck. Todd returns it, sliding his arms around his back, holding him close.

Suddenly, someone bumps into Todd’s back as they dance, shouting a quick apology as they pass, and it seems to send them both back into reality. They pull back and glance around, watching as everyone is jiving to the upbeat music. Neil looks back at Todd who returns his gaze and they break out into a fit of laughter, making their way over to a table.

They collapse into some seats, breathing heavily. Neil is relieved to have a break; he’s starting to come back down from his rush of energy, and his eyelids are getting heavy.

“Neil,” Todd says, shaking his shoulder lightly.

He lifts his head and looks at him questioningly.

“Don’t fall asleep yet, wait until we get in the car.”

Neil makes a noise of complaint. “I’m tired. Be my pillow, Todd?” He asks, leaning his head over onto Todd’s shoulder.

Todd sighs defeatedly, raising a hand to card through Neil’s hair. They stay like that for a few minutes, relaxed and at ease, until Charlie approaches their table.

“Seems it's a general consensus that it’s time to go,” Charlie says, plopping into the seat across from them and taking a swig from his drink. “The others are starting to get tired too. They wanna grab a bite upstairs before Keating comes. What do you say?”

Neil lifts his head, sitting up in his chair. “Sure, Todd?” He nods in agreement.

“Alright, perfect. I’ll go grab the others, be back in a flash,” he says, darting away.

“Tell Charlie to wait up, I got to say bye to some people first.”

Todd’s eyebrows raise in remembrance. “Oh, that man who gave us the drinks?”

“Yeah, and his boyfriend.”

“O-okay I’ll tell him,” Todd says.

Neil leans over and kisses his cheek before walking off in search of G and Andrew. He goes toward the bar first and doesn’t see them, so he looks through the crowd of the dance floor. After a few seconds, he feels a hand clap his shoulder. Neil whips around.

“Hey kid! How you doing? I saw you and that boy earlier, I’m proud of you,” G says. “And you’ve got one hell of a friend to request a song for you two like that.”

“Yeah, that was more romantic than our first kiss,” Andrew adds, sliding an arm behind G’s back. “You’re gonna have to step up your game.”

“Hey, don't you forget my proposal, I spent weeks planning that!”

Andrew sighs with a smile. “Okay, you got me.”

G gives him a quick peck before returning his attention to Neil.

“I’m- we’re great. I’m… really happy,” Neil says, beaming. “And yeah, Charlie is not one to be subtle about anything.”

The couple laugh. “Well, I’m glad it worked out,” G says sincerely.

As Neil nods in thanks, Andrew gasps in realization. “Give me your hand,” he requests.

Neil complies, pulling back his sleeve. Andrew pulls a pen out of his pocket and writes on the back of his hand. Once he’s done he releases his arm and caps the pen. “In case of anything, don’t hesitate to call us. If things don’t bode well with your father, we’ll be here for you, okay? Any hour of any day. I never really sleep anyway,” Andrew says with a crooked smile.

Neil looks down at the phone number written on his hand, and holds in the tears welling up in his eyes. “Thank you,” he croaks, keeping his eyes down and wiping them surreptitiously.

“Any time,” G says, a smile in his voice.

Finally he looks up at them both, feeling fiercely grateful for them—despite the unideal introduction of Neil ruining their clothes.

“My friends and I are heading up to the diner before we leave. But it was great to meet you both. Sorry again for spilling the drinks on you. Both of you,” he says, wincing as he peers at their stained outfits.

“Oh, don’t even stress it. It’s a good thing you did now, isn’t it?”

Neil laughs. “I suppose it is.”

There’s a beat of silence between them before they bid each other good night, Neil returning to his table. Todd looks up at him as he approaches. “They’re all waiting by the door. Ready?” Todd asks, standing from his seat.

“Actually, I wanted to ask you something first,” Neil says, his heart pounding out of his chest.

Todd blinks. “Okay,” he says, anxiety creeping into his features. Neil reaches out and strokes his cheek in reassurance.

“I just wanted to know… now that we’ve… you know, told each other how we feel… where are we?”

Todd’s eyes widen in understanding. “Um, I mean what can two guys be to each other?” He asks.

“Boyfriends?” Neil tries, unable to breath.

Todd’s face lights up, and it sends a flood of relief over Neil. “Uh, Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

Todd nods, beaming, and Neil can’t resist leaning over to give his nose a quick peck. He never thought this would ever be possible, and yet here he is, able to call Todd his boyfriend. With Todd by his side, he’s willing to take anything his father tries to throw at him.

Neil slots their fingers together and the pair walk over to the other poets who are standing by the door. Upon seeing them, Charlie grins. “The new lovely couple has arrived! Let’s go!”

The boys make their way up to the diner and slide into a booth, ready for a late dinner before Mr. Keating arrives to pick them up. Todd seats himself beside Neil, and he wraps an arm around his shoulder, kissing Todd’s forehead.

“Alright, as happy as I am that you two finally got your act together, please don’t be necking each other and being all lovey dovey in front of me. I don’t need it getting in my food,” Charlie says.

“No promises,” Todd says.

Neil laughs breathlessly, at Todd’s bold comment and the way Charlie gapes, shellshocked. “Yeah, don’t be a hypocrite. If you had someone you’d be slobbering all over them any second you could.”

“I guess you’re not wrong there, but it makes me wish I did.” Charlie winks. Neil and Todd grimace, and at that the subject is dropped.

“So Cameron, who was that girl I saw you all cozy with?” Meeks asks, his eyebrows raised suggestively.

“Cameron was with a girl?” Charlie asks, nonplused. “Did someone give you drugs, Meeks? You might have been hallucinating.”

“No, I saw. They were locking lips,” Neil adds.

“No way!” Charlie calls, his eyes blown wide.

Cameron blushes, staring down at the table, “Yeah, I did. I saw her at the bar and we started talking. She’s… great.”

Knox leans over and high fives him with a proud smile as Charlie chokes on air. Once he recovers, he shakes his head and huffs a laugh. “Well… atta boy Cameron!” Charlie hollers, smacking his back.

Cameron looks at him for a moment before smiling back. “Thanks, Charlie.”

Soon, the food arrives and after much more rowdy laughter and chatter, the boys pile back into Keating’s car.

“Enjoy yourselves boys?”

The boys all agree and over the rest, Charlie shouts, “Hell yeah!”

“Thank you for your exuberance, Mr. Dalton,” Keating deadpans, chuckling.

“Enjoy your date, Captain?” Pitts asks.

“Yes, thank you,” he smiles.

“What’d you do? Spend any cozy alone time together,” Charlie asks, grinning mischievously.

“If you’re insinuating what I think you are, then I am not at liberty to discuss that with my students. However, we went for a nice dinner and afterwards we walked along a nearby lake. They’re quite a lovely spot to bring your significant other, actually,” he says, and Neil catches his eyes in the rear view mirror. Neil’s face flushes and he looks away, unable to hold back a smile.

Multiple different conversations among the other boys pick up after that, but Neil stays quiet, taking time to enjoy the moment. A few minutes later, when Todd lays his head on his shoulder as he dozes to sleep and Charlie gives him a smug look, Neil feels truly grateful for his friends, Keating, and Todd. He looks down at the number scrawled on his hand and realizes that he’s no longer dreading the future. His future. It won’t be easy, but with Todd by his side, Neil can do anything. And he wouldn’t want it any other way.

[iraacundus]

make a wish

resonance series one:

investmentbanker!xiaojun x reader

genre: fluff, smut, tiny weeny angst words: 5.4k warnings: swearing, explicit sexual content, mentions of drug use

investment banking was a high stakes game, even for the interns. you and him were in constant competition, living the high life, stressed out of your minds, unwilling to let the other know that. “i could do this all day”.

******************

He looked so smug as your supervisor named him intern of the week for the fourth week running. Once again you were just a few thousand won behind him. You could have beaten him… you just suffered an unlucky loss seconds before closing.

You typed furiously into your computer, nonsensical words appearing one by one in your spreadsheet. If you looked like you were working, you figured he would be less like to disturb you with his gloating.

Yet your bad luck seemed to be continuing as you were so focused on your angry typing, you didn’t notice Xiaojun standing behind you causing you to jump slightly when you heard his voice whisper in your ear,

“It must be hard always losing to me, but if it makes you feel better, no one ever does beat me, at anything,” he boasted.

You swivelled your chair round to face his grin. You wanted to strangle him with that stupid striped tie he wore. You stared into his eyes refusing to drop his gaze, that would be admitting some sort of strange defeat and you couldn’t face to losses in one day.

Xiaojun backed down first by deciding to wink at you, a glimmer of chaos in his eyes.

“Do you get off on being a dick?” you asked him, hastily closing the nonsensical spreadsheet even though you were very sure he had already seen it.

“It’s just friendly competition,” he said with a grin and you rolled your eyes at him. The competition was anything but friendly, it was far too much like bloodthirsty roman gladiatorial games to be considered as such. Every person for themselves.

That’s why you always pushed back your attraction to Xiaojun and replaced it with shallow hate. The only time you would sleep with Xiaojun would be to use it against him, to win. Yet that standpoint was so hard to keep when the breath of his whispered fanned your neck.

“Better luck next time babe.”

You didn’t want to kiss him, you reminded yourself, you wanted to throw him down a flight of stairs.

“Fuck you,” you replied, turning back to your computer, ignoring how you missed the warmth of him standing by you as he walked away, ignoring the irony of your statement.

He had totally interrupted your focus, you wanted to get back to work but instead, you couldn’t help but keep glancing over to look at him. He had aimed to throw you off and he had achieved that goal.

What would be anywhere else be seen as casual flirtation, in this world was a dangerous game.

You pinched yourself slightly under the table, forcing yourself to focus on the stock market and not Xiaojun’s stupid face.

You had so much work to finish before the drinks party that evening, especially now you had come second place again. You had spreadsheets to prepare, articles to read and a plan to set out for the following week. All you wanted to do after completing that was sleep but schmoozing with the higher ups, the investors, the CEOs, it was all part of the job.

You loved your job to a certain extent, the thrill, the high stakes, the money to be made. You hated your job to a certain extent because it made you stressed out of your mind.

One wrong move and you could lose the company ten million dollars in ten seconds. That kind of mistake would put a mark on your name forever and all you had worked would be for nothing.

So, when Xiaojun was winning, his face may have been good looking, but all you wanted to do was smack it.

That evening was the fourth party in as many days and you were tired, you weren’t sure that even the expensive layers of concealer you were wearing could cover that fact.

The lights of the club were bright through the darkness as you smiled at older men, damning sexism that this was the easiest way for you to gain favour. You drank one cocktail after the next, hoping it would dull the sensations of the world, just for a few hours, just so the stress of the job would go away and only the thrills would remain.

You shook the hands of some executives in the VIP section, conversing perfectly about market changes and ideas despite the fact you could barely stand. If investment banking didn’t work out, you were pretty sure you could become a professional actor.

It was half-past midnight when you noticed Xiaojun staring at you. He was sitting alone on a sofa in the VIP section, arm draped lazily over the back of it as he sipped some expensive liquor. His eyes were dilated, and you couldn’t tell whether he was attracted to you or had just taken far too many drugs.

You weren’t sure what possessed you to stumble over to where he was sitting, and half sit, half fall down next to him. Talking to Xiaojun presented no value your job, it wasn’t going to get you a promotion or a favour.

“Are you okay?” he asked, he gaze fixed on yours. You rolled your eyes. You were ninety-percent sure he was looking for you to admit any sign of weakness he could use to take you down; you were his strongest competition after all.

“I’m fucking peachy,” you replied, taking another sip of your drink, the world around you just a blurry collection of lights.

In fairness your aggression towards him was unwarranted, it wasn’t his fault you had a bad week, but you were drunk, and he was easy to project your emotions onto.

Xiaojun sat forward slightly, leaning towards you, his face not close enough yet for to discern his intentions due to your drunken state.

“You seem like you could use some water,” he said, pushing a glass towards you. With this action you could just make out his face through the blurring and the lights, it wasn’t as smug as usual, yet you refused to believe he didn’t have an ulterior motive.

You ignored the water, childishly. Instead you sat back, far enough away to frame his face through your fingers,

“Why are you so perfect?” you asked him out of nowhere but perhaps out of jealously and curiosity. Xiaojun stared at you for a second but never answered your question.

“Just drink the water, y/n, you have to work this weekend to catch up with me, I don’t want my greatest rival to be taken out of the race by a hangover.”

You frowned slightly but took the water and sipped, the cool taste pleasant against your dry throat.

“And for the record, I’m far from perfect,” he added.

You did still make it to work the next morning but with a hangover indeed. You felt like you had been runover by ten buses as you teetered into the lift in your high heeled shoes and tailored dress.

Not everyone worked weekends, just interns with something to prove, the stock market wasn’t open on weekends, so you just did grunt work, hoping to please some executive and climb one rung up the ladder to hell.

You sat down at your desk and began to run the numbers, pushing your headache out of mind. You were so focused you didn’t see who had left some extra strength paracetamol on your desk, but took it anyway, grateful to dull the sensation.

This was your reality, no matter how you felt, you still had to give your top level of performance. Your ability to do this was almost the sole reason for your success to that point.

Every so often, when you stopped to drink water or check the time, you noticed Xiaojun glancing at you. It was both flattering and unnerving, you couldn’t decide which.

His eyes were a deep brown, mesmerising – distracting. He was throwing you off and deep down you hoped that throwing you off wasn’t the reason he was staring.

The next week for the first time in a month you won intern of the week. Xiaojun was no longer smug, on the intern ranking he had dropped to seven. You didn’t see him glance at you that week, you didn’t see him smile.

Xiaojun had never been below five up to that point, he had tainted his record far more than you had ever tainted yours with just one really miscalculated risk.

Winning had spurred you on to work late, to continue what you had achieved. You worked after the market closed on until 2am and when you finished Xiaojun was still there, his eyes bloodshot, his fingers typing away.

He was chewing his lip anxiously as he backspaced about fifty-times, beginning to look slightly unhinged.

You had seen Xiaojun like this before, everyone in the company had weeks like this, but for the first time seeing in him this state somewhat upset you.

You didn’t know why it upset you, Xiaojun wasn’t your friend. Maybe, despite everything you hated that he endured the same struggle you did, perhaps because you fully understood how awful the pressure could be. It was the true embodiment of “you wouldn’t wish it on your worst enemy”.

The next night you woke up at your desk at four in the morning after drifting off. The keyboard had imprinted into your face and the lights in the office were off. The only light still illuminating the office was one computer, even the night cleaner was long gone. Yet Xiaojun was still there, typing away.

You chucked your shoes off onto the floor, sighing at the comfort of it, before wandering over to his desk, settling down into the chair next to him and spinning to face him.

“You will make yourself sick, you know,” you told him.

Xiaojun looked up in surprise, he hadn’t noticed you sit down. Despite his somnolence he still managed a witty reply,

“From staying up late or the drugs I take to do it?” he said, making a joke but not joking, dangerously nonchalant about the gravity of his remark. You didn’t know what to say back, there wasn’t a lot you could say.

“I don’t want my greatest rival to be taken out of the race by hospitalisation,” you finally decided on, copying his own words.

Hearing this, Xiaojun’s faced curved slightly into what was almost a smile and he stopped typing.

“I’m afraid we face mutual destruction, neither one of us will stop until we win,” he said, his eyes searching your face, his eyebrows contorting into an expression you couldn’t fully understand.  

“Maybe we shouldn’t be so competitive,” you joked, but your face wasn’t smiling. Your face was tired and grey, yet Xiaojun still looked beautiful, his eyes shining in the computer light, even if they were fucked up and red, “sometimes I’m not sure what we are competing for,” you told him.

“We both love the competition though, you can’t deny that, if there was nothing to compete for, we wouldn’t work as hard. We compete for the thrill and the money; we both know that.”

“Maybe you could finish work before the early hours if you stopped staring at me all day,” you pointed out, changing the subject slightly. Xiaojun grinned but his face tinged slightly red.

“So, you caught that? I have to have some bright points in my day, the rush of success and looking at you.”

You laughed softly, pushing him and his chair away slightly and taking control of his computer. You saved his document and logged off.

“Go home Xiaojun, I would prefer if you survived, and for that you need sleep. I can’t win if your dead.” This time it was your turn to joke and yet not be joking.

You stood up together to leave the building, Xiaojun muttering something about this being a tactic for you to be the weeks winner. He didn’t notice that when you were walking along the empty street with him in the cold air, you, for one short moment, really didn’t care if he beat you or not.

That when you got to the subway station that ran all night and parted to get on trains in opposite directions, it took everything in your body not to kiss him.

Xiaojun won that following week and you wanted to throw him out a tenth-floor window. But when you saw his smug smile and his eyes a normal colour, you didn’t quite hate him as much. You would settle for throwing him out a third-floor window.

It wasn’t all bad either, not just because Xiaojun had moved away from the knife edge but because you made a record trade. You through your arms in the air and shrieked with happiness.

Everyone in the office looked at you, some clapped, others glared. Xiaojun settled for a soft smile and a text of congratulations – you never knew he had your number.

Both of you were celebrating at the office ‘party’ that night. Schmoozing CEO’s was off your mind for one night only. You thought you had made enough of an impression that week.

You did more shots than you could remember and hit the dance floor. Numerous guys tried to hit on you, but you weren’t interested. Only one man played on your mind and you wanted him out of there.

You drank more to forget him, but you couldn’t ignore him when he was standing in front of you, face flushed red with alcohol and a stupid grin on his face.

“I don’t know what is sexier, your intelligence or your ass,” he said, coming to dance next to you.

You hit his shoulder lightly,

“Oh, you’re such a gentleman, Xiaojun,” you replied sarcastically.

“I stopped taking drugs these last few weeks,” he continued, slipping his arms around your waist as he continued to dance, “you’ve become my natural high.”

You thought he was making a joke, some vague attempt at a pickup line. Yet even though he was smiling, you saw a sense of earnest in his eyes.

“I hope that’s true,” you said, “about the drugs at least.”

“I think I would do about anything to make you happy at this point… except losing to you,” he whispered back, his lips dangerously close you yours.

“As they say in our business, how about you put your money where your mouth is?”

His hand pushed your hair behind your ear gently,

“And just what do you mean by that?” he enquired. Yet before you could reply his arms released from around your waist and he grabbed your hand, leading you off the dance floor and towards the bar.

“A cosmopolitan for the lovely lady and a whiskey for me please,” you heard Xiaojun ask the bartender.

Xiaojun pulled out a barstool for you and sat down on the one next to it.

“We always sit in private rooms, how about a change, mix with everyone else for once,” he said smiling.

“At least there are no creepy CEO’s here,” you conceded, “how did you know my favourite drink?”

“I know you better than you think… and I’m accustomed to taking calculated risks, I seem cooler if I guess right than if I have to ask you, but if I guess wrong, I just wasted some money. Yet I figured money spent on you couldn’t be a waste.”

You decided that he was definitely hitting on you and while you hadn’t expected it, you equally weren’t surprised. You and Xiaojun were close by investment banking competitor standards.

“Why have you decided to start flirting with me?” you asked in a drunk moment of directness.

“Liquid confidence mixed with the fact you’re very beautiful.”

The bartender placed the drink down in front of you and you took a sip as Xiaojun handed him a 50,000 won note,

“Keep the change,” he added, nodding at the waiter before picking up his drink and turning back to face you.

He said something but the music in the club was so loud you couldn’t hear him.

You leaned in and talked somewhat loudly,

“It’s loud in here, I didn’t hear what you said sorry,” you told him.

“I really wish I didn’t have to compete against you,” he said, leaning in to close the distance, his whisky touched breath fanning your face.

“Because you think you’re going to lose?” you joked. Xiaojun shook his head, placing his whisky back down on the bar.

“Because I really don’t want to have to take you down to win.”

In that moment you really just wanted him to kiss you… but he never seemed to make the move. Once he had stopped talking, he leaned away again and sipped his whiskey, something which confused you.

You really thought he had been flirting with you but now you had doubts, what if he only had a friendly concern for your welfare.

You drank your cocktail contemplating this, analysing what he did, trying to calculate which side of the equation his brain was on. He was as unpredictable as the stock market, yet unlike with work, here you didn’t know what to guess.

Even if he was flirting there was the chance that he didn’t actually have an interest with you, but instead he was trying to emotionally fuck with you.

You downed your drink and placed it down on the side. Xiaojun looked like he was thinking himself. You couldn’t guess his emotions, but unlike with work you reckoned you could figure it out.

“It’s nice to talk to you for once, outside of the work setting, well… almost,” you said, casually placing your hand on his thigh as you leaned in. That was your plan. Judge his reaction but Xiaojun just smirked. While you decided that probably got rid of the friendly concern option and confirmed his - romantic intent – it didn’t solve the question of how noble his intentions were.

“You could make a wish, y/n, I would give you anything you wanted,” he whispered, this time his lips physically brushing his ear.

“Except winning the internship competition,” you confirmed.

You laughed without humour. It was like a wall between the both of you.

“Not that I would ever ask you to give that up,” you added, “wishes are for genies and birthdays anyway.”

“Well, I’m not a genie but you could always make a birthday wish.”

“My birthday is in five months, so a bit of a wait. Another drink though, that I can make happen now… What do you want?” you asked him.

“I can buy you one,” he protested. You rolled your eyes.

“Gender equality Xiaojun, I can buy a guy a drink.”

“Then I will except anything you give me,” he relented.

“A sex on the beach and a whiskey please,” you said to the bartender. It was slightly dark, but you almost thought you could see Xiaojun blush slightly when you mentioned sex, even just in the context of a drink.

Then again, it could have just been the whiskey.

You only got halfway through that next drink before you realised simple conversation and suggestive gestures wouldn’t be able to discern what you wished to know.

You didn’t know whether to give up or give in.

“I think I should go home,” you said standing up. Xiaojun’s face fell slightly before he managed to put his smile back in place.

“I’ll call you a cab,” he replied standing up next to you, it was lucky he did as the first step you took almost sent you to the ground. Xiaojun managed to get a hold of you and stop you from falling.

“Aha thank you,” said, unable to stop yourself from grinning at him brightly. Xiaojun put his arm around your waist as you both walked along the side of the crowd dancing and out of the club.

The air outside was cold but Xiaojun was warm. He instinctively took off his jacket and placed it around your shoulders.

“You must have good intentions,” you mused, not realising you had thought aloud.

“Why would I not?” Xiaojun asked, looking slightly confused but unfazed.

“I’ve been trying to work out all night if you are genuinely into me or if this is all some part of a masterplan to take me down,” you answered, no idea why you were suddenly being so truthful.”

“This job really does fuck up one’s mentality,” Xiaojun said, looking ever so slightly forlorn.

“Maybe so… but I think you are a good guy Xiaojun, you have fooled me if you’re not. If this a lie, then I lost to you. I want to make my wish now,” you wrapped your arms around your waist.

“And what would your wish be?” he replied, his eyes gazing at yours. But you didn’t tell him your wish, you simply actualised it as you brought your lips to his.

The warm taste of whiskey against the cold was mesmerising. Now you both had your bloodshot eyes closed you almost seemed like you could be a normal couple.

Xiaojun pulled away slightly, his thumb pressed lightly on your lower lip.

“I just want to remember how beautiful you are,” he explained. You were speechless at the sight off him.

The taxi Xiaojun had called pulled up in front of you. Xiaojun let go of you so you could get in the taxi.

“Goodnight,” he said, pressing a kiss to your cheek, opening the door for you to get in.

“You can come too, back to my place I mean, if you want to, that is?” you propositioned, feeling oddly nervous, scared you weren’t quite on the same page. You shuffled over to the opposite side of the taxi so that he had the choice.

When he got in beside you and closed the door, you felt your heart begin to race slightly. Your heart leaping – literally. “322 Sinsa-Dong, Gangnam,” you said to the driver and the car started to move. Xiaojun moved his hand so his pinkie was touching yours across the seat between you and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“You’re really cute you know?” you said to him. Xiaojun made a sad face,

“Surely if you invited me back to your apartment you must think I’m attractive, sexy, enthralling…” he said, quietly enough only you could hear him.

“You are all of those things too, but you really are cute Xiaojun, especially when you wear your glasses at work and your face concentrates on something hard.”

“You watch me at work? I never caught you staring at me once and I stare at you pretty often so I thought I would have noticed.”

“Always got to keep an eye on the competition.”

“I never knew you liked me back, that’s why I always kept my feeling hidden until now… I didn’t want to complicate anything, life is already hard enough,” Xiaojun explained.

“I didn’t realise I liked you either, I was too focused on winning, but at some point, I started to realise, I didn’t like winning if it meant you lost… that’s caring about someone I suppose. The passion… we already had that, enemies or lovers, the passion always existed.”

The car ride wasn’t much longer and neither of you said much, you simply paid the taxi driver and got out of the taxi, holding Xiaojun’s hand instinctively when you led him up the staircase to your flat.

It wasn’t an instant thing. You both spent your lives making split second decisions. You knew how important every second was and that’s perhaps why you took it slow.

When Xiaojun came in you hung his jacket up and asked him if he wanted anything to eat, he politely declined.

You settled for watching Netflix together in a drunken haze, your head resting against his shoulder, his arm around your shoulder.

It wasn’t until the two actors kissed, an hour into the movie that you began to refocus on why Xiaojun really was here.

His arm around you, suddenly seemed different to just moments before. Xiaojun’s blush matched yours as you turned to face each other. Unable to ignore the building tension any longer.

Neither of you were exactly pros, you spent far too much of your time working. When you thought back you hadn’t had sex in over a year. Now, sitting so close to Xiaojun, you wondered how it was possible that you had managed that. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” Xiaojun began, “we can just continue watching TV and then go to bed, I can even go home if you want me too.”

Once again you didn’t respond with words but by kissing him. You sat up and moved so you were kneeling over his lap and leaned downwards, pushing him into your sofa cushions, until your lips met his.

His lips were slightly chapped from the cold, but you didn’t care, melting into his touch as his hands moved to grab your waist.

He sat up slightly to move closer to you, his hands pushing you down against his hips as he began to press kisses to your jaw and down your neck.

You jolted slightly with pleasure causing the friction between you to increase as your hands messed up his hair.

Beneath your thigh you could already feel Xiaojun starting to harden as your hips rolled back and forth against his.

“How comfortable is your bed?” Xiaojun asked, pressing his forehead against his, his breathing already affected.

You moved off him to stand up, grabbing his hand before you had time to miss his touch.

“You can be the judge,” you told him.

Xiaojun sat on the edge of your bed, taking the time to look at you as you tossed your dress to the floor, revealing your black lingerie.

“Did I tell you, you are beautiful,” he uttered, his gazed fixed on you, mesmerised.

You notice him readjust his trousers slightly, the bulge forming, starting to appear uncomfortable.

You walked over to stand between his legs as he pulled his shirt over his head.

“Would you like me to help?” you laughed slightly, getting down onto your knees in front of him.

“Are you sure?” he asked, “I can move so you can be more comfortable?” he offered. You shook your head and smiled.

“I assure you, I’m anything but uncomfortable,” you said, reaching to unbuckle his belt, before tossing it away as well. You unzipped his trousers carefully, Xiaojun sighed at the slight relief of pressure.

You pulled his jeans off his legs until he was just left in his boxers. You didn’t remove them immediately, you instead began to touch him through the underwear, causing Xiaojun to bite his lip slightly.

When the precum started to stain, you decided to put him out of his misery, pulling on his waistband until his cock sprung free.

For the first time you didn’t waste any time. You placed your hand carefully around his shaft as you ran your tongue over his tip slightly.

When you finally took him into your mouth it caused Xiaojun to elicit a moan so sweet you felt your core weaken.

Xiaojun’s leaned back as you started to move faster, the salty taste of his precum leaking into your mouth.

“Can you look at me?” he asked, “I want to look into your eyes as you suck me off.”

If that was his wish you were happy to oblige. You gazed up at him as his cock hit the back of your throat. Xiaojun let out a low moan.

“Your so fucking perfect,” he praised as he came, his cum leaking down your cheek as you tried to swallow it, “I’m sorry,” was all he said.

Once again you shook your head, wiping his cum from your face.

“Stop apologising Xiaojun, it’s making you cute again, not sexy,” you joked causing Xiaojun to chuckle.

Once you were on the bed next to him, he pushed you back into the cushions, propping himself over you.

He kissed down your neck and to your collar bone, reaching back to undo your bra clasp. It was his turn to toss your clothes away as he revealed your breasts, his eyes dilating.

He clasped your breast as he kissed you, pinching your nipple slightly causing you to cry out in pleasure.

“I think I am sexy now, am I not?” he said, not waiting for an answer as he continued down your body, kissing your chest, down to your stomach until finally be pressed a kiss at your waistband.

“Are you ready babe?” he asked you, his eyes soft but his grin devious. You nodded, slightly lost for words as Xiaojun moved your panties to the side, not bothering to remove them before he dragged one finger across your wet opening.

You moaned loudly as he slipped his finger in, quickly adding a second as he pumped in and out. It was the best thing you had felt in ages, but it just wasn’t enough, you knew what you wanted.

“Please can you just fuck me already?” you asked him. Xiaojun bit his lip again grinning.

“Your wish is my command baby,” he said, finally dragging your panties down and leaving them to the side. He was already hard again from the sight of you in front of him.

He placed his cock against your wet folds but before he could enter you had another wish,

“Can I ride you?” you asked him. Xiaojun smiled slightly, pressing a soft kiss against your lips.

“You can have anything you want y/n,” he said, sitting back so you could get up. You positioned yourself above him, his hands on your hips as you finally started to lower.

Xiaojun hissed softly as his length slowly entered you. You didn’t stop until you had taken all of him inside of you. You placed your arms around his neck and kissed him softly as you started to move, up and down him at a tortuous pace.

You didn’t want the moment to be over too quickly.

Xiaojun had other ideas, after a minute or so he started to push up into you, getting the message you speeded up, fucking him as quickly as you could.

“Fuck y/n,” Xiaojun cried out as he came closer to coming. You grinned slightly before moving off him completely. Xiaojun swore again at the loss,

“Are you punishing me for all the times I teased you?” he asked. You just chuckled.

“No, my legs are just tired, we can have sex whatever way you want to make up for it,” you said, stroking his hair lightly.

“On your hands and knees then babe,” he ordered, and you obliged.

Xiaojun began to fuck you again, but with him in control it much faster, much more needy. You whined his name as he fucked you relentlessly, his grip on your hips now strong enough to leave some sort of bruise.

“Please come in me,” you pleaded as you felt your high coming.

“So many demands baby,” Xiaojun remarked, tutting in mock dissatisfaction but really, he was happy that he was able to make you feel so good.

“Xiaojun!” You called out as you met your high, the feeling of your walls clenching around him causing, Xiaojun to cum too, just seconds later, filling you up until he pulled out.

You collapsed down on the bed beside each other, exhausted, glistening with sweat.

“You’re the best thing that job ever gave me,” Xiaojun said, pulling you in towards him, so your head laid on his chest.

“I think I would even lose the competition for you if you wanted,” he said, his finger tracing your cheekbone.

“I would never ask you to do that,” you replied, “also you really think I need you to lose, I can beat you Xiaojun, mark my words.”

“No chance,” he laughed, “Okay maybe some chance, but still, I will be the winner.”

You hit his chest lightly in jest.

“You’re overconfident.”

“No, I just know I’m already the winner, I have you as my girlfriend?” he half said, half asked with a raised eyebrow. You nodded in agreement.

“I have you as my girlfriend,” he confirmed to himself, “then my wish has come true.”

“You’re cute Xiaojun,” you smiled, kissing his nose, “and very sexy,” you added.

From then on, every time you needed to make a wish; you knew Xiaojun would grant it.

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

Never Be Sorry, Not For This

It was just supposed to be two friends dancing. You should’ve known better: Eugene Roe + Dirty Jazz in a dark club on a hot Georgia night would be the death of you.

(i listened to Death Letter by Cassandra Wilson while writing this, in case you wanna feel the spice)

You giggle slightly when Gene’s hand presses hot on the middle of your back, the giggle graduating to an apologetic snicker when he shot you an impatient look.

“Really? Are you twelve?” Roe grumbles, holding your right hand up gently and keeping it close to their sides.

“And a half.” You wink, smirking as he rolls his eyes and shakes his head at you.

He looked stupidly handsome in the low light of the club, a light sheen of sweat on his skin catching the light and making him shine like some sort of angel.

Careful, a voice in your head whispers. Don’t read more into this than there is.

He had only brought you here because Bill fucking Guarnere was incapable on minding his own business and keeping his goddamn mouth shut for longer than two minutes and practically strong-armed Gene into inviting you. 

During a night of Sobel-assigned kitchens inventory with Gene and Guarnere, Bill had asked you about your recent birthday- what you’d done, who you’d heard from, if you’d gotten anything. 

“Paperwork, my dad and my sister and her family, and Sobel gave me an earful about controlling my facial expressions when he’s trying to establish his authority- Thanks for asking.”

Your answer was apparently incorrect, and Guarnere had turned to Gene and pointed at you with his thumb conspiratorial.

“That’s gotta be the saddest shit I’ve ever heard, eh Doc? Can’t let such an important day go to waste like that, can we, pal?”

Guarnere proceeded to bully Gene into inviting you to the jazz club the medic always flocked to on his weekend passes, the place he chose to escape to  in lieu of the bar favored by most residents of Toccoa. 

But before you’d had a chance to tell Bill to shut up and stop being weird, Gene had nodded and looked down at the inventory sheet in his hand.

“I mean, we could if you wanted to.”

You had a feeling that he was regretting extending the invitation now. 

When the two of you had entered the club you’d suddenly realized that this wasn’t the traditional, big band jazz you’d been expecting.

Oh no, you were pretty sure Gene had accidentally taken you to a sex club of some kind- and you became even more sure the moment your eyes had adjusted to the darkness and you’d been able to make out your surroundings.

The singer on the stage was lit with a red light, voice smokey and seductive as she crooned a slow melody, eyes hazy as her hands trailed up and down the microphone’s stand in a clearly suggestive manner. There were two men with instruments behind her, the one with the drum looking at her silk-clad body like he meant to ravage it.

Maybe jazz means something different in the south?

Couples were writhing to the drums rhythm, bodies draped over each other like some kind of Rodinian menagerie. 

Now, you were pretty confident in your capabilities as both a soldier and a human woman- you wouldn’t have gotten this far if you hadn’t been able to trust yourself and what you could handle.

And you knew for a fact that you were incapable of pulling this off.

Now, Gene was a patient man, but you could see in the set of his jaw he was starting to get frustrated.

 I don’t blame him, I’m acting like I’ve never been alone with a boy before. 

Clearing your throat, you bite the inside of your cheek to try and get your shit together.

He’s trying to do something nice for you and you’re ruining it….

”I’ll stop, I promise.” you plead, ducking your head to try and catch his gaze. “I’m just nervous, give me a break…”

“You’ve literally run out in front of a moving plane to get a piece of debris off a runway ” he interrupts you like you hadn’t been talking. “You stole Sobel���s car—”

“At least if those things went wrong I would’ve just been killed.”

Eugene snorts at that, and you hear him mutter something to himself in French.

“And now?” He asks, tilting his head towards the band on the stage and the other dancers around you . “You think this is worse?”

You fix him with a look of shock that you know will make him laugh again. “Death over humiliation, every time! Obviously. What sort of question is that? C’mon Genie—”

“I know you know how to dance. I’ve seen you and Nixon dance at Malarkey’s birthday dinner in last July—”

You cringed internally. You’d forgotten there had been witnesses to that.

“Ok, first off,” you tap one of your fingers against his shoulder for emphasis. “that only happened because I lost  a bet with Lewis. And to be clear-I know how to ballroom dance, and that’s different because the whole point is to be rigid and straight and precise. This is….proving to be a challenge.”

You’d always been good at those sorts of things- order and rigidity and accuracy. You were used to knowing what was expected of you and how you measured up to those expectations. But you were going into this completely unprepared. You hated it.

“Just think of this as a basic waltz step, just slower.” Gene supplied, and when you started to fall into the familiar step he immediately made it clear that he was going to be dictating the pace, meeting your quirked brow with one of his own.

“Much slower. Glacial. Frozen molasses sliding down a flat hill—” You chide lightly, trying to disguise the waiver of apprehension in your voice.

“I don’t think that’s a phrase. But yes- that slow.”

You sigh, letting him lead you in an almost unbearably slow box step, letting him take you through five box-steps before huffing and hooking your chin over his shoulder and rest your head there, groaning melodramatically like you were in pain.

“This is impractically slow.” you lament. “It doesn’t look or feel right—”

With a quick move of his arm he presses you closer into his chest, knocking you slightly off balance before moving you so his thigh is wedged between your legs. 

You flush at what you assumed was a mistake on his part, and when you go to step back down from his thigh he moves with you and holds you in place.

Eugene Roe, you saucy boy.

“Gotta let me have some of your weight. That’s why it feels like you’re doing it wrong….” 

His voice is soft as stone, and you know he can feel your breath catch in your throat. “C’mon, mon cher- I got you.”

You’re suddenly very glad that he's pulled you so close because you don’t have to hide the scarlet blush on your cheeks at the imploring tone in his voice.

It made you want to trust him. It made you want him, period. 

Full stop.

It’s dancing. People dance. Friends dance, it doesn’t mean anything unless you want it to.

Unless you let it.

You take a deep breath and let your knees bend slightly, allowing your hips to slot together and your heart thud against his. 

Just as he promised, he keeps a hold on you, the arm around your waist like a belt holding the two of you together, and your ribs jump in a quick inhale as his fingers curl around your waist.

If he notices your reaction, he’s kind enough not to mention it.

“Good,” he says under his breath, and you feel him nodding against your hair. “That’s good.”

Good God, had his voice always been so low?  Fuck he was good at this….

You hmm in reply, your self-consciousness put on the back burner in order to cope with the absolute burning electric currents seeming to run through your body, just beneath your skin. 

You’ve never been so overwhelmed by another person, let alone some boy as you felt at this moment in Eugene Roe’s arms- you couldn’t so much as breathe without him knowing, each inhale bringing with it the sweet, clean smell of the aftershave you couldn’t quite identify and the salt of his skin.

The steps of the waltz have melted into a rhythmic sway of your bodies, shifting weight from the ball of one foot to the other in time with Gene’s lead.

It’s everything you can do not to shake as his thigh flexes between your legs, your sex rubbing agianst it deliciously every so often and making you feel stupid with longing.

“You okay?” he asks quietly, and you realize that you’ve been holding your breath the whole time, a distracted chuckle escaping your lips before your nod softly.

“Yeah, course.” You wrap an arm around his shoulder and sway with him, giving the hand holding yours a quick squeeze of reassurance. “You?”

You feel him nod. “Yeah, me too.”

You hum, letting your eyes drift closed as you try to think about keeping your breathing even and touch light.

Which was proving harder than you’d anticipated— the slow curling beat of the new song beginning and it’s rumbling melody settling over your heads like the foreboding clouds of a storm that neither of you seemed too interested in seeking shelter from.

This whole place could burn down and all I’d see is him

After a few more moments you feel the hand at your back begin to knead at the knots along your spine, strong fingers rolling like revered thunder against your tense muscles.

“Give me some more,” he quietly demands. “You need to lean on me more….you’re still too tense—” and you bend your knees a bit so you can feel the pressure of his thigh where you’re throbbing for him the most. 

“Shhhhhhiiiiiit…” he hisses quietly, almost to himself. 

“Eugene,” you breathe before you can stop yourself, titling your head so your temples press together. “ We, uh…..We said we wanted to go by eleven...”

Your reminder is purely for show, arousal hot in your chest and stomach. 

When he hums in acknowledgement, you can hear the lack of intention behind it. The idea of separating from this man made you feel cold—a prospect you found unbearable despite the heat making your hair stick to the back of your neck.

Staying, we’re going to stay.

Part of this feels inevitable, like the two of you had always been destined to end in this sinfully filthy embrace with nearly every single part of your bodies touching, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to curse the humidity you so loathed.

A whimper escapes your throat when you catch your clothed clit on some bunched fabric from the leg of his pants, and his arms abandon their dancing position to wrap around your torso and smooth his hands up and down your back

“Like this, Doc?” you can’t help but whisper, sighing prettily when his grip digs into the meat of your shoulder blades. 

You know you aren’t dancing anymore, haven’t been dancing for a while. You feel your hips jump against his, a low groan rumbling in his chest as one of his hands flashes down to squeeze at your ass.

“Fuck darlin’....” 

You turn your head so your lips are at his ear, eyes nearly rolling back in your head at the sinful roll of his hips as he drops a bit lower, a growl in his chest at the breathy way you gasp his name.

“I’m sorry” he’s whispering. “I’m sorry—”

You know what he’s apologizing for.

He thinks he’s confirming Sobel’s horrible accusations— that you’re nothing more than a warm body in the eyes of the men of Easy Company.

Their CO had a special place in his heart for taking the time to remind you that you were a woman and insinuate that you were nothing more than a barrack whore who was a pretty good shot on a rifle. 

“Even pious Winters seems to find you distracting, Miss Y/N. Maybe we should send you ahead of the pack to give the Krauts something to enjoy before we show up.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you shake your head and bring one hand up to lightly touch his cheek, voice thick in your throat. “Never be sorry. Not for this— Shit, Gene....”

One of Gene’s hands slid up your neck and into your hair, holding your head as he turned to look at you, pupils blown wide beneath heavily lidded eyes.

You look at his lips, bringing your thumb over to smooth the furrow in his brow.

“Never?” he asks, and with one final look into his eyes you shake your head.

“Never.” you hear yourself say, 

You kiss the corner of his mouth first, not wanting to rush him, still worried that (somehow) you were misreading his intentions. 

As if he wasn't gyrating his hips with you in a way so dirty that you were surprised you hadn’t been asked to leave. As if you couldn’t feel the ghost of his hard cock against your hip….

Apparently Gene thought you were now the one moving too slowly, because he uses his hand in your hair to turn your mouth to his and kiss the breath from your lungs.

His lips taste like whiskey and a tiny bit like the candied pecans you’d brought him as a thank you for taking you out. 

You sighed against his mouth as you slid one of your hands down his chest, fisting his shirt as his tongue parts the seam of your lips and deepens the kiss.

“Embrasse-moi (kiss me),” he mumbles between the kisses he plucked from your lips. “Je pense toujours à toi, Je ne peux pas vivre sans toi….tu as besoin de savoir que (I always think about you, I can’t live without you. You need to know that.).”

You’re french is lackluster at best, but something in the way he’s saying the words that makes you feel as if he’s being unbearably sincere in whatever it is he’s telling you. 

“I dont…” you begin, but then something wicked and heavy settles in your lower belly that has you pulling back enough that you can look him in the eye.

HIs lips are pink and swollen, and you nearly forget what you wanted to tell him.

Debauched, absolutely lewd and lustful.

Your hands find his and with a reassuring nodyou put his hands on your hip and thigh, another curse slipping past his lips as his fingers bunched the soft fabric of your skirt in his hands.

“Show me what you said.” You know you’ve said it like a command but you’ve never felt more less in control in your entire life. “Please, Eugene—”

He nods solemnly, and when he replies you get the feeling he’s making you a deeper promise than you are aware of.

“I will. I promise.”

and he does.

(*throws fic at you and runs away* than you for reading bYE (p2?))

[petewentzisblack1312]

would u ever analyze disloyal order? it is my favorite fob song but much of the verses honestly confuse tf outta me, particularly the second one. lol

of course! ill do that for you now. fun fact: disloyal order is the song that 100% sold me on fob

to begin with the title, it is a reference i am far too young to get and have just figured out after years of puzzling. its a reference to an elite boys club in the flinstones. disloyal order of water buffaloes as a title is just saying "society is made for a certain kind of people to succeed and its fucked up" and that makes all of the lyrics make so much more sense. its been so long.

the prelude describes the persona coming undone, and turning themself into someone elses ideal. trying to do so leaves them feeling empty inside, since this isnt what they want, this is whats expected of them. this fits nicely into the overarching theme of the album, which is [joker voice] society and how it shapes us for better or (more often), for worse. in fact, disloyal order, as an opener, is an introduction on the essay that is folie à deux, painting broad strokes of a lot of what it covers. the prechorus also touches on this, painting the persona as just a single malfunctioning part of a whole intricate system.

the first verse points to the persona waking up, dazed and covered in wounds, and covincing themself this is normal, and that they wouldnt remember it even if they tried. it goes on to talk about them bein arrested, and them needing medical attention, and that theyre certifiably insane, but also taking care to mention how sensational their story is. this verse tells us about the exploitation of sick people, and about people running themselves into the ground for fame or money. they dont need to be sold as a story, they need to be helped as a person.

the second verse gestures to themes of sex and romance. theres a moment where the persona misinterprets something innocuous as an advance (little girl got me staring odd/or is that just a telescopic camera nod). they then goes on to talk about soliciting sex workers– they can only really interpret woman in the context of being attracted to them. one could argue the line "all the rookies leave your badge and your gun on the desk when you leave the room" could be about inexperienced young lovers being told to sit this one out.

and then, the chorus, which asks people to embrace apathy (boycott love) and to stay ignorant and repeat the same old mistakes (detox just to retox). the line "id promise you anything for another shot at life" implies someone promising to fix everything in exchange for another chance. the last two lines, however, i think are most interestingly read from a meta perspective, ie its the band saying 'no one wants to hear celebrities sing about peoples problems'

i think disloyal order points to one of the main problems i have with folie, which is that its way too ambitious. they wanted to do so much, musically and lyrically, gave themselves too little time to do it, did the whole citizens fob thing, they stuffed a lot onto every song, and i think the albums is worse off for it. dont misconstrue me, folie is a beautiful album that explores a lot of ideas in a genuinely thought provoking manner, and musically i think its extremely well put together. truly its an experience of sound. but i think the concepts dont work together in the way they could. lyrically i think its among the weakest fall out boy albums, because unlike ioh, which is specifically about fame, or mania, which is just about mental health, or futct, which is about a specific relationship and the feelings it evoked, this album is about everything, and it gets that across really well sometimes but just as often it gets that across really okay-ly.

like, in this song alone, which summarises the album, we have 3 very distinct themes– exploitation of vulnerable people, sex and relationships, and apathy being exploited for power. theyre definitely connected, but this one album feels like it shouldve been a triptych, or that one of these themes shouldve been dropped completely (i think number 2 wasnt that necessary). i love it, i really do, its genuinely amazing and its a masterpiece and is so worthy of being anyones favorite. this is just my purely technical (as in based in technique and execution) criticism.

-

consider buying me a ko-fi?

[spectrumed]

10. contact

The key to success is networking. Oh, God, how am I ever going to succeed? Networking? Talking to other people? Making friends? That’s not me, that’s not me at all. I don’t want to make superficial connections with other people just so that I can one day use my connections to get ahead in life. I don’t want to force myself on others, trying to convince them that I am some decent guy that’s totally worth getting to know and be friends with. I don’t know if you’re going to like me or not. I imagine some people would like to be my friend, and I imagine some people would hate to be my friend. I’d rather just forget about the latter group, and not torture myself trying to make friends with people who are fundamentally at odds who I am as a person. I’d rather have a small circle of close friends than a thousand acquaintances. But the key to success is networking.

I’ll never be an insider. This is not me just doubting myself, not some decision to undermine myself. I know that making statements about things that are impossible for you to achieve comes across as very self-defeating, but I know that I will never be an insider. I will never fit into a social clique. I am not going to be part of the boys’ club, yucking it up with my mates. I’m not going to be in any gangs, no bands, most certainly no crews. I am a solo-player. I prefer to work on my own. All my life, I’ve kept to myself, one way or another. I don’t ask for help. Growing up, my sister used to get a lot of help from my mother with school assignments, because she wanted it and she asked for it. My sister and my mother would spend a lot of time together making sure that my sister’s schoolwork turned out well. Looking over spelling, fixing grammatical errors, making sure that the text was easy to read and had a flow to it. Normal parental stuff, really. Kids are supposed to get help from their parents, it’s part of the learning process, no-one gets by all on their own. Well, except for me. I never asked for help.

I actually found it really unbearable to have my mother look over my schoolwork to see if I made any errors. Not because I am such a horrid narcissist that I refuse to admit that there were any errors, but rather because… well, it felt invasive. Like as if you spot someone spying on you through your window. It made me feel very self-conscious, in a way that I realise now is similar to how I feel when I make eye contact. Yes, I am bad at making eye contact, especially when I am speaking at the same time. I don’t mind making eye contact when you are speaking, but I don’t want to make eye contact with you when I am speaking. Is that funny? Is that odd? Well, the way I feel about it is that eye contact is intimate, it’s almost like touching. It’s mental touching. If you share eye contact with somebody you are sharing a connection. You are mind-touching each other. Oh, well… I guess that maybe it’s not quite like that, but I still don’t find it easy.

At times, I find much of the discussions about neurodiversity online somewhat off-putting. Especially when it comes to those people who are really keen on being all out positive, all the time. Those people who see any shade of negativity as outright hazardous. Don’t bring up the fact that being neurodivergent can be difficult, don’t mention the difficulties that come with being on the autism spectrum. Engage with self-empowerment! Celebrate what makes you different! Go out there and be proud of yourself, be happy about your autism, it is cool to be autistic! And, sure, I understand the importance of injecting optimism into the neurodivergent community. We need optimism, we need to profess our desire to be happy, to show the world that you don’t need to be neurotypical to be content with your life. No-one wants to be around a sourpuss just wallowing in their discontentment. But, sometimes things just suck, okay? Having a positive attitude may project confidence, may make others think you’ve got it together, but be wary when that positive attitude just becomes a mask you hide behind.

Look, we live in a society. Whether you like it or not, you live in a society. We need to rage against this society, because this society is no good. Things may look good to some people, but those people are wrong, and I am right. I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it anymore! Let’s have ourselves a little revolution and see if we can piece a new society together, one that doesn’t commit to the same mistakes as the last one. Oh, wait, how do we do that? And how do we make sure that we win the revolution, we could easily lose, and that might actually just make things worse for us. What if this society we live in got even worse? Yikes, that’s a thought too scary to even really consider. Can things get worse? I don’t want things to get worse. Maybe I just shouldn’t rock the boat. Let’s calm down, and let’s not make any rash decisions here. We can overthrow society at some other point. For now, let’s just have some tea.

Yes, society stinks, but what can you do about it? It is absolutely the case that neurotypical people have it easier navigating modern society than neurodivergent people. Others expect you to function just like they function. If you wish to fit in, you are required to act more neurotypical. People expect that from you. Learn to adapt, to hide amongst them. Trick them. Make them think you are one of them. Be the wolf in sheep’s clothing. They’ll never know the truth of who you are. An outsider that managed to get on the inside. You stand by the watercooler, and by gosh, you make yourself laugh at their jokes even though you’d rather not be there at all. You partake in the small talk, talking about the weather, feigning interest in the footballs, and pretending to be an all-around wholesome compatriot. You’re not at all secretly some kind of anti-social misfit, who’d rather stay at home sitting behind a monitor and playing strategy games on your own. Do you want to come and join your workmates for a drink or two later? Oh, yes, of course you’d like that, but you might need to limit your alcohol intake so that you don’t get too drunk and begin to let the mask slip. It’s too easy getting into hyper-specific rants about obscure topics no normal person would care about when you’re inebriated, so let’s not risk that.

“Be yourself.” Pfth, bah, humbug. Neurotypicals love to state empty platitudes. You don’t want me to be myself. You’ve made it very clear that you don’t want me to be myself. Call me a cynic all you want, but you can’t get nowhere in life simply by being yourself. For better or worse, authenticity is nowhere near as desired as some people make it out to be. Name a single really successful person who is truly themselves. Fake-authenticity does better than the real deal. True sincerity, of the kind that’s naked, shameless, ugly, and challenging, it is difficult to love. And that’s not all bad, it’s just a fact of life. We all need to cover some things about ourselves up, and need to keep some secrets, because that is what is expected from us. Just as we wear clothes to cover up our naked bodies. No shame on the nudists, they’re free to embrace whatever alternative lifestyle they want, but I don’t want to see your naked body. Don’t get nude in front of me. I already struggle with eye contact, I sure wouldn’t struggle less if you stood in front of me nude as well.

Actually, to a certain extent, these social rules we all conform to can actually be quite appreciated by those of us who are on the spectrum. It is easier to know what you must do in a formal social situation than in a casual social situation. Casual people, they’re just so… unpredictable. Sticking their casual bits everywhere, acting like guests at your house who don’t seem to understand that your home is not their home. Even as a kid I hated having friends of mine over at my place. They’d play with my toys, place my toys where they don’t belong, or even worse, they may break some of my toys. Don’t touch that, it’s mine. Don’t put your icky hands on my bed, I sleep there. Don’t rip pages out of that book, it’s my favourite book. Don’t breathe in my room, I breathe in my room. I just can’t handle you coming here and disturbing the peace. I had it all ordered, I knew where everything was, and I liked it. Now you brought with you the forces of chaos, and dealing with that is just now what I had in mind for today.

I could never be a freemason. Sure, I have some good ideas for how to secretly rule the world, but if you’re a freemason, you’re expected to be part of the team. There’s no “I” in freemasonry. The secret cabal that controls all of the world’s governments, they don’t want independent folks like me to show up thinking that I can do my work assignments on my own. The Illuminati is run by a committee. You don’t get far in that world by being some freewheeling bohemian incapable of getting along with others. You don’t establish a New World Order by promoting self-reliance. Institutions are great for those who like to get chummy with their pals, the gregarious sorts who know exactly who to talk to in order to advance in the ranks. You scratch my back, and I’ll scratch yours. Favours for favours. One of the reasons why I inherently distrust many institutions is because they are rife with nepotism. You know that whoever gets to sit on the high council of the Illuminati didn’t get there via competency alone. No, they knew a guy, who was cousins with this other guy, who used to work for this guy, and y’know, you pull one string and suddenly there you are on top of the social hierarchy. Most often people get promoted, not because they do good work, but because they happen to know the right people. But again, maybe I’m just being cynical.

I’ve had a recurring fantasy, in the past, of being a lighthouse keeper. Living out somewhere all on my own, not having to deal with any human relationships. Maybe I could befriend a seagull, but even that seems a little too much. Seagulls can be very needy. No, I’d just get on with whatever I’d most like to be doing, writing or making art, just enjoying my solitude. I imagine that the toughest thing about being a lighthouse keeper is the loneliness, but the loneliness is only a plus for me. I’ve long ago decided to like being lonely. I don’t want to face the fact that I too yearn for company, I like to pretend as if I am fine with being alone. So the fantasy of being a lighthouse keeper is perfect for me, I could get far away from society and I could earn a living not having to give a fuck about what others think about me. I could allow myself to get as weird as I would want to get, not having to wash my image, acting like I’m all rational and well-adjusted. It would just be me and my seagull. How simple life would be. Too bad I think most lighthouses are automated, these days.

Maybe being the perpetual malcontent cynic incapable of fitting with mainstream society isn’t all so bad. In some regards, I have made that my brand. Generally, I like to think that I don’t take myself too seriously, but like a lot of people, I’ve turned those edgier parts of my personality into armour that I wear to protect myself from the scorn of others. You can’t accuse me of being a miserable piece of shit when I’ve decided to make being a miserable piece of shit my thing. It’s what I am, and I am not going to change. I’m not really all that mean, or nasty. I am fairly cynical, but I don’t act like some asshole. I don’t think anyone is upset with me for how I act. I’ve only occasionally gotten told off for being too gloomy. But the problem here does not lie with how I end up treating others, but rather how I end up treating myself. I don’t want to make cynicism part of my sense of self. I don’t want to be this person, this misanthrope who only sees problems, and never celebrates the good things in life. I should engage with self-empowerment. I should be happy.

It’s okay being neurodivergent! Sure, you may find other people strange or foreign, with their yapping mouths and their over-eager desire to look you directly in the eyes, but just ignore them! Neurotypicals are just so last century, the future is all neurodivergent! You’re on the right side of history, bud! You’re cool, and radical, and you’re absolutely a sexy little cupcake. You either learn to love yourself, or you lose yourself. Make funny memes, find some online community to be a part of. You can absolutely be a freemason if you want to be a freemason. Don’t let your diagnosis get in your way, so long as you’ve got that inner fire driving you, you can be anything you want to be. Go ahead and rule the world, babe. Remember, what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger, and right now, it’s good vibes only.

[niksixx]

Bed Head

Requested: Anonymously 

Pairing: Nikki Sixx x Female Reader 

Description: “Can I request for Nikki please :) She’s on tour with them and is Nikki’s favorite person to flirt with and when they get to the hotel they have to end up sharing a room and sharing a bed which leads to her admitting she likes him and then some smut because Nikki can’t keep his hands to himself? Thank you!”

Warning: Smut

A/N: Reblog !!! 

*GIF is NOT mine, but found on Google. Credit to the owner.* 

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

“This is so unprofessional! How do you overbook a hotel room?”

The check-in lady gives you a sympathetic look. “I cannot apologize enough for this, ma’am. I understand the inconvenience.”

Inconvenience your ass. This was just plain unacceptable. In a country you’d never visited before, the last thing you expected to worry about was not having a place to stay.

“Everything okay?” asks Tommy, your very best friend. He sees the worry etched in your forehead, and a hand covers your shoulder. Tommy’s band, Mötley Crüe, was on the second leg of their European tour. As best friends from childhood, you and Tommy had been inseparable before his band took off. You went your separate ways for a while as Tommy adjusted to his newfound fame, but Tommy never forgot where he came from. The band was currently touring Europe on their Theatre of Pain tour, and you were ecstatic that you were at a point in your career where you could take a few weeks off to join them.

“They overbooked my room,” you answer sadly, blowing a strand of hair from your eyes. “Now I have to pray that they can find me another room or else I’m fucked.”

“No need to pray, I’ve got it all worked out,” Sunglasses perched atop his head, Nikki Sixx rolls his suitcase over to the desk, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “She’ll be staying with me, ma’am.”

The thing about Nikki Sixx...your relationship was complicated. Out of Tommy’s bandmates, you clicked with Nikki the most, almost instantly. His easy going persona just made you comfortable, want to be around him. He understood you were Tommy’s friend, but that didn’t stop him from poking fun at you, and he loved that you were able to take it. Somewhere down the line, the lighthearted teasing morphed into flirting. With how close the two of you were, it was surprising that Tommy didn’t have a problem with someone he considered a brother flirting with someone he considered his sister. If anything, he encouraged it.

“Easy fix,” Tommy grins, turning back to the lady. “Sorry for the trouble.” Tommy wanders ahead to catch up with Mick and Vince as Nikki stays back with you.

You feel his eyes burning into the side of your head, and you turn to face him. “Are you sure it’s okay?”

His smirk has you weak in the knees. Nikki’s lips were his best physical feature. Soft. Thin. Pink. Maybe one day you’d have the luxury of feeling them on your body, but you’d never get your hopes up. Sure, Nikki flirted with you and had called you pretty, but millions of other women had caught his attention. You were just another girl with a wild fantasy. “It is more than okay, baby girl.”

~~~

“You can’t stop me from sleeping on the floor.”

The argument surrounding your sleeping location had been going on for the last two hours, and you weren’t going down without a fight. The realization that there was only one bed in the hotel room had hit as soon as you opened the door. Immediately your cheeks had flushed with embarrassment when Nikki automatically assumed you’d be sharing the bed with him.

There was no way you could, especially because of your feelings for him. You knew it’d be harmless, but sleeping beside him would give you the wrong idea, even if you’d enjoy the close proximity of his body and the warmth radiating from his skin. You simply couldn’t do it.

“I don’t understand what the big deal is,” Nikki calls from the bathroom as he adjusts his belt in the mirror. “We’re just sleeping!”

Rummaging through your suitcase, you dig around for the small case of earrings you’d packed for nights out on the town. Tonight’s plan was to hit up a few clubs, and you wanted to look your best for a certain bass player.

You find the earrings at the bottom of the suitcase, holding onto the end of the bed to push yourself off the floor. Turning toward the bathroom, you collide with Nikki’s chest. “What are you doing? You’re in my way.”

“Unless,” Nikki clicks his tongue, and the look on his face has you hesitating to move. “Unless there’s a reason you don’t want to sleep with me.”

Oh boy if only he knew how much you’d love to sleep with him.

“Maybe it’s because you snore?”

Scoffing, you slap his shoulder. “I do not snore.” Brushing past him, you head into the bathroom, leaning toward the mirror to get a closer look at your earrings.

“You have your period then,” Nikki suggests, and your mouth drops immediately. He recognizes his mistake and holds up his hands innocently. “Alright, alright, you’re not on your period.”

“That’s not even something you’re supposed to ask a woman,” You remind him, fiddling with the back of the earring.  

Stuffing his hands in his jeans pockets, he steps toward you, shoulder resting on the bathroom door. “Then what could it be, hm?”

His voice is slightly higher pitched, almost as if he knows the answer but is waiting for you to confirm. You feel his eyes on you and you turn to look at him, head tilted to the side as he waits for your answer. “Maybe it’s because I like you.”

Nikki smiles. “I figured.”

You’re stunned. “How?”

He shrugs, stepping out of the way to let you back out into the room. You take a seat on the bed, legs dangling off the side as he stands in front of you. “Tommy’s the worst at keeping secrets.”

Anger vibrates in your bones. “That bitch…” He’d betrayed you! Breaking the pinky promise and everything. “Oh I’m going to kill him.”

Nikki sits beside you, hands clasped together between his legs as his elbows rest on his knees. “To be fair, he technically only confirmed it. I think I knew all along, but I wanted to be sure.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks, heat rising from your neck. “It was that obvious, huh?”

His grin expands across his pale face. “Pretty much.”

Groaning, you fall back on the bed, covering your face as Nikki laughs. Well, now that the cat’s out of the bag, you have to try and come up with a better excuse. There’s no way you’d be able to sleep next to Nikki now, not after everything he knows.

As you try to concoct another explanation, you feel Nikki crawl on top of your body, pinning you to the bed with his weight. Your eyes shoot open, breath hitching as his tattooed fingers trail up the side of your waist, to your neck, and skim against the base of your throat.

“Nikki,” you swallow nervously, “What are you doing?”

“Well, we don’t have to meet the boys for another ten minutes,” He flashes a knowing smirk. “What do you say we break in the bed? Make you a little more comfortable.”

His lips cover yours and you give in, arms wrapping around his torso, pulling him deeper against your body. His tongue teases you, poking out of his mouth to lick your bottom lip as a hand finds your breast, kneading it through the fabric of your short blue dress. Hooking your leg over his waist, you grind your crotch against him, needing to feel some type of friction.

His mouth moves from your lips to your neck and throat, licking and sucking the skin, biting occasionally to claim you. You couldn’t believe this was happening. All the nights spent dreaming of kissing Nikki were finally becoming a reality in front of you.

Nikki inches down your body, fingers skimming over the end of your dress, pulling it up your body, letting it gather at your stomach. Your pussy is right in front of him, clad only by a thin white lace thong. He gazes up at you. “Can I touch you?”

Nodding eagerly, the word flies out of your mouth. “Please.”

Nikki drags his finger up the front of your clothed vagina, sending the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy. Two fingers touch your clit, rubbing slow, agonizing circles. Wetness coats the inside of the thong, and Nikki’s eyes blaze. Pulling the fabric aside, he again uses one finger to brush your clit. Arousal pools between your thighs, and Nikki’s cock constricts against his pants, begging to be free.

“I want you,” Nikki’s voice rasps, lowering his mouth to press a feather light kiss to your pussy. “I want to taste you.”

“Yes,” you moan out, bucking your hips while Nikki lightly nibbles the inside of your thighs. “Yes, Nikki.”

He dives right in as soon as his name leaves your mouth. His tongue is warm and wet against your flesh, licking between your folds, savoring your taste on his tongue. The tip of his tongue flicks your clit rapidly, arms wrapping around your thighs to bring you closer to his face.

Your hands tangle in his messy hair, yanking the strands while simultaneously pushing his face impossibly deeper. He hums against your pussy, sucking your clit into his mouth, and it feels even better than you could have imagined.

“You like being fucked by my tongue, don’t you, beautiful?”

“Yes, fuck, please give me more,” Rocking your hips, you drag out a groan, fisting the bed comforter in your palms as Nikki’s tongue swipes across your hot flesh. “Fuck, fuck, yes.”

A loud squeal fills the room. You bite down on your tongue, pussy adjusting to Nikki’s mouth on your clit as three fingers pump in and out, juices coating his digits.

“Oh, God, Nikki! Nikki!” You’re screaming his name, completely disregarding the neighbors in the hotel room next door. “Let me cum, Nikki, please let me come.”

“Not yet,” he growls, flattening his tongue. His fingers continue their assault on your cunt, curling inside in a come hither motion. “You come when I tell you.”

Can you hold on? Throwing your head back, your back arches off the bed, legs twisting as Nikki tries to keep them apart with his free hand. Beads of sweat coat your arms as you try to support your weight, thoughts focusing on Nikki’s expert tongue.

When your thighs begin to shake, you automatically sense a pit of pleasure burning in your lower  stomach. You bite down on your lip hard, stifling a cry.

He knows your close and goddamn it he’s so ready to help you ride out your high. “Come, baby. Come all over my tongue.”

He didn’t need to ask you twice. Reaching back for a pillow, you cover your face just as your orgasm rocks through you, juices dripping down Nikki’s chin as he licks you clean.

He lets you catch your breath before sitting back on his haunches, admiring your body. A knock on the door startles you. “Yo, Nikki! Y/N! You ready to go?” Vince calls from the other side.

Licking his lips, Nikki gives you a once over before slapping his palms down on his thighs. “We probably should get going.”

Where the confidence came from, you’ve no clue, but you grab Nikki and pull him on his back, stunning him. Slithering down his body, you come face to face with his growing erection, and you can’t help but run your hand over his clothed dick. His eyes widen. “Uh, baby girl? The boys?”

You offer a small smile, slowly unzipping his pants and digging his cock out of his boxers. Licking a stripe up his shaft, you swirl your tongue around the head, emitting a groan from Nikki’s throat. “The boys can wait,” you purr, kissing the head of his cock. “Can you?”