#the engineers will warm 2 instead of 1. but. if you assign two engineers to the task the same time

[skipperling]

i do also feel like The Pale Beyond holds your hand TOO much in some aspects but not enough in others

[themilky-way]

on a foreign planet

gif credit: santigarcia

pairing: din djarin/the mandalorian x reader

summary: din isn’t too fond of touch, but after a particularly cold mission, he realizes just how important it might be. 

warnings: uh is me being touch starved a warning bc if so oh boy

author’s note: got the cot inspiration from 1) the literal fucking cot scene-you know what i’m talking about and 2) miss birbs’ lovely fic @whirlybirbs​ 

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from what you saw, it had been a faulty mission on tatooine. the minute he stepped off the lift of the crest and set out to look for something was the minute your gut tightened in an all too familiar feeling. you came to know it like the back of your hand-living and occasionally partaking in conversation with the mandalorian the leading cause. you learned to trust that ache and never questioned it despite many efforts to do so; desperate attempts to urge him to not leave the safety of his ship were made, and sometimes a laugh threatened to escape because of how silly you must’ve sounded. the mandalorian never listened and never would, so all you could do was prepare the emergency kit stationed within the cabinets of the cockpit. 

he’d bust in whenever you’d least expect it. a weary hand clutching the side of his abdomen or a limped gait indicated he needed some form of assistance, and the responsibility was almost always yours. most of the time he never said a word, as was his usual demeanor, and just situated himself on the floor near your bed, his back leaning into the mattress. he knew you’d do it-care for him and restore his health-and now it’d be no different. 

“i’ll be back before sundown,” din informed. his armor seemed to glisten more in the early morning rays than it did in the evening, an odd comparison you made when he entered the cabin. he stood proudly at the door, as he definitely should, wiping his pistol with a small rag and inspecting its crevices and compartments to ensure its performance. then he looked up. 

you were sitting-cuddled, more like-in his pilot’s chair with the baby pulling on the strings of din’s blanket from the ground. short, high-pitched sounds came from him to gain attention. this isn’t yours, he wanted to say, but was stuck with the only language he knew: gibberish. “feel free to keep my blanket by the way,” the mandalorian assured, “you’ll need it for the blizzard tonight.”

“what blizzard? i thought it was just desert here,” you inquired, sitting up a bit in bewilderment. the blanket slid over your legs at the sudden motion, falling over the child still tugging at it. it covered his tiny head all the way to his tiny toes, outlining his (rather large) ears and torso. “maker,” you huffed after hearing a muffled, yet complaining coo, “what’s up with you today?” lifting the sheet with one hand, you brought the baby along with you and positioned it on top of your leg. “there. take a nap, will you?”

when you finally got the opportunity to look away, you captured a glance of din exiting the craft with his equipment in hand. you didn’t expect anything less; his attitude was meant to be cold and harsh. he didn’t have to say good-bye every time he left for a mission or tell you good morning whenever he woke up, yet you’d be lying if you said that the absence of these aspects didn’t take a toll on you. hell, a friendship would've been nice considering all the time you’ve spent with one another, but what you received would have to suffice.

it wasn’t often that you were left alone. somehow, and for some strange reason, the man who so earnestly follows his creed never lets the child or you out of his sight. it was fun at times; you bought the weekly groceries while din scavenged for an alien for its monetary value. a win-win. 

“i’m gonna go in that room...” you pointed to the small door of the cot, “...and i’m gonna sleep for a while, okay?”

the child looked at you and gurgled a reply. it began pointing its ears forward as a cat would if it were content. his stubby hands, which were hard to differentiate between that or paws, reached upward to indicate his wish to be hoisted. “you wanna come with?” you asked quietly, and a set of miniature teeth that were barely there flashed in a wide grin. 

the plan wasn’t to doze off for more than two hours. the siesta wasn’t meant to last through the whole evening either. 

the quilt (that wasn’t rightfully yours) was too warm for you not to fall asleep. the baby cozied up in the junction of your arm and elbow with its fuzzed head against your shoulder. your legs and torso were contorted to accommodate the limited capacity of the bunk; it wasn’t the best position per se, but it did the trick. 

on his way back from an assigned trade, the mandalorian’s field of vision turned foggy. a gloved hand that was possibly blue with the frost clung to his belongings in the same manner as when he’d left. to discard the items and shield himself from the falling snowflakes was what he wanted to do, but each slow, deep tread of his boots promised a closer distance to the comfort of his plane. snow developed into sleet as he neared the engine, with the droplets of water trickling down the “T” of his visor serving as a fun game of ‘which drop will reach the bottom first?’ it was childish in itself and not in the slightest bit appropriate for his current conditions. 

when the sleeve of white beneath his shoes became metal, his back straightened with a few cracks (one of his perks, he liked to say). his brain was running automatically, directing his steps and turns to where he could find one fragment of peace: the cot. 

he knew you were inside. the visibility his helmet equipped him with was astonishing; a single click of a button and the steps you took during his leave would be all his to analyze and detail. the same trembling hands from before reached for the latch and opened the door of the compact room. he tried to speak as clearly as he could without arousing a scare in the child or you, a free palm gently grasping and shaking your ankle. 

“hey,” he whispered. “canyouwakeupplease?” it came out rushed and scrambled, his teeth chattering in between syllables. 

“din’ika?” you slurred, voice heavy with sleep. “what time is-okay, why are you holding my feet?”

“needed s-something to wake y-you up,” din shivered. he took a step back, and for the first time that day, you fully saw him. there wasn’t much light in the space besides the one light coming from the cockpit but the shape of his beskar helped diminish your fatigue. 

“maker, din, you’re freezing. get inside.” 

he didn’t hesitate or fight your suggestion as he typically did. instead, with some trouble, he gradually squeezed himself inside the little space as you slid up the mattress. you swallowed a giggle when the top of his head hit the ceiling because, well, it’s funny.  

“don’t l-laugh at me, i’m c-cold,” he said. 

“i know you’re cold,” you smiled. 

din made the choice to sleep on his back, while your option was to lay on your side and the baby in the middle. it wasn’t horrible. the three of you could live with it.

a few minutes followed before you felt the cold leather of his fingers encircle the tips of yours. the sensation was new; an experience that wasn’t in the script for him. he was afraid of how you’d react. is this too tight? too clammy? i’m wearing gloves, it doesn’t even matter. no wait, yes it does. 

the thoughts stopped as abruptly as they came. he felt the air surrounding the room span across the skin of his wrist, and then the top of his hand. it flowed beyond that to the beginning of his fingers until his covering was completely off. 

your hand was warm and it fit so perfectly in his when you melded it together. a sharp breath hitched in his throat, unaware of how to speak and how to act. in this moment, din’s instinct demanded him to turn away and be who he was presumed to be, but that was nearly absurd now with his hand wrapped in yours.

“is this okay?” you spoke softly. 

he squeezed his eyes shut as if it would dissipate him from existence, trying to overlook your breath fanning into the opening of his suit. “yes. is this alright with you, too?”

“yeah. it is.”

[whenimaunicorn]

Playing House Part 5.2

Vikings College AU, Dom/sub/Dom,  Ivar x Reader, Ubbe x Reader

It’s a broke, submissive college girl’s dream: living for free with your two crushes in exchange for doing all the housework. The Lothbrok boys wanted a “thrall,” and now you’re hoping they’ll notice that you’re game for all kinds of “services.” Ivar seems to know exactly what you’re looking for, but you’ve never met a Dom so mysterious, constantly keeping you off-balance and not sure what to expect next. And then there’s his brother Ubbe, who may not understand the kind of game you’re trying to play here, but makes up for it in raw sexiness and eager desire for you. But will these two strong-willed boys be able to play nice and share you as you live out one of your hottest fantasies with them both?

This fic is so far away from canon that it should be accessible to anyone that can imagine being in college and wanting to be submissive to two hot bros at the same time. 

Catch up: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 (you can also find the whole thing on ao3)

A/N: after an embarrassingly long hiatus, I think I’m ready to finish this fic now. I have all the rest of it planned out, I think there will be 3 more chapters. And if I continue my streak of posting the chapters in part 1 and 2 chunks here on Tumblr, then I guess you have a lot to look forward to!

Also, you might want to review the previous section; what’s included below is pretty much all smut straight through. If you need a little seduction to get back in the mood first, the first half of the chapter is here.

Ubbe’s cock feels so good under your hand. How long had you been dreaming about touching it? How many times has he taunted you with the sight of it, letting you know how you had been affecting him on the most primal of levels. You take the time to savor it now, stroking that tantalizingly wide shaft through the thick fabric of his jeans.

“Do you like that?” Ubbe asks you, voice slow and thick. He’s got one hand on the wheel, one hand on the stick, and he keeps his eyes mostly on the road even as you slide and sculpt around the length of him. Ubbe drives like a speed demon, and apparently he can’t take it easy even with a distraction like you and your willing hand in his car. He shifts gears and tilts the wheel in tight, expert little motions, passing another car he deemed to be driving too slow. You know from driving with him in the past that just about everybody on the road qualifies for that judgment.

“I do,” you answer, with what you hope wasn’t too much self-conscious hesitation.

“Yeah?” Ubbe takes his hand off the shifter just long enough to pop open the button at the top of his fly, angling his hips enough to ease the zipper down. “Want to take a closer look?” He keeps his eyes on the road, letting you stare at the perfect profile of his chiseled face.

You never realized before this moment how much lust and hunger could feel similar. The prospect of getting your hands, and probably your mouth if the streets were dark enough, on Ubbe’s cock is actually making your mouth water right now.

Your fingers dance up to the opening in his fly. Ubbe puts his hand back on the shifter and leans his hips a little further, making more room for you. A heavy breath escapes him as your fingertips dive under the fabric.

The noise makes your submissive soul tingle. You’re quite sure Lauren or Sonya wouldn’t stoop to giving a guy road head before he’d even taken them out on a date, when you’d barely even had time to share more than a few breathless kisses yet, but you like feeling a little bit like a whore. If Ubbe wants this right now, why on earth would you withhold it from him?

You slide your fingertips across his lower belly, seeking the waistband of his boxer briefs. You allow yourself to indulge just a little in tracing your fingers along his skin, playing with the trail of hairs that tempt you lower. Ubbe rumbles an appreciative little sound, though you can almost detect a little whine at the end of it. He wants you to get on with it, doesn’t he.

Your fingers slip under the elastic band and feel down along the warmth of his body. The hairs get thicker and thicker as you go, though you can tell Ubbe keeps them cropped fairly short down here. You make contact with the side of his shaft; he’s angled mostly up and a little bit away from you, and you tickle your fingers up and down the edge of it.

“Fuck,” Ubbe whispers through his teeth; then, without looking away from the road: “are you teasing me right now?”

You give him a cute giggle, and a few more light, quick fingertip strokes. “Maybe.”

His brow crinkles, crookedly, and he glances at you like he can’t quite believe what he just heard. “I thought you were a good girl.” Blood rushes to your face. “Or do you want me to treat you like a bad girl, hm?” Watching you out of the corner of his eye, he reaches behind your head, curling his fingers into your hair, close to the scalp just above your neck. He tugs once, and you moan at the tiny pain.

You accept the reprimand, relishing the way he’s taken control of your head, and push your fingers deeper into his pants. You wrap them around the warm velvet iron of his shaft. The contact feels electric against your palm.

He groans, first tightening his grip on your hair, creating a sharp pain, and then releasing it quickly, as if he had only just realized how hard he was pulling. He scratches your scalp in an appreciative caress as you trace your loosely-cupped fist up and down the length of him. “Fuck.”

There is barely any room to work him while still inside his pants. You’re just pondering whether you should take his dick out, and what’s the best route for that, when Ubbe stops the car at a traffic light. The street isn’t busy, but there is another vehicle waiting alongside yours. Still not as much privacy as you would like.

Ubbe’s hand leaves the shifter, returning to the back of your head and pulling you toward him, his mouth meeting yours halfway for a searing kiss that seems to go on and on. He breaks away as decisively as he went in, shifting gears before you’ve even opened your eyes, barely crossing the intersection before he’s shoving the top of his undies down, letting the full length of his cock spring free.

It’s magnificent in the flashing lights of the passing streetlights. The ruddy head of it looks positively swollen with need, and you lean over his hand on the shifter to wrap your lips around its tip. You flit your tongue, tasting the salt of pre-cum. More evidence of how much he’s been longing for you.

A guttural groan comes out of Ubbe’s throat. It sounds both pleasured and exasperated, and after you give him just one more lick, his arm that’s underneath your bent torso is pushing you up and away. He needs to shift the gearstick. You lift your head to see the oncoming red glow of another traffic signal.

Turns out, there are too many traffic stops on the drive home for you to give Ubbe any proper road head. Every time you lean down to run your tongue around that fat, glorious head, you get in no more than a few licks before he needs room to shift gears again. The whole stick shift thing is suddenly feeling a lot less sexy.

Settling back into your seat, you keep your hand wrapped loosely around his shaft, arm snaked under his and giving him plenty of room to change gears. You’re counting down the minutes with lazy strokes and firm squeezes until he pulls into the parking garage attached to your building.

You can’t help but notice that Ivar’s car is in its assigned parking space as Ubbe backs into his own beside it. He must be inside the apartment. It’s impressive, really, how Ubbe is able to reverse the car so competently between the narrow lines while your fist is still gripping his rock-hard erection. As soon as he’s got the car in ‘park,’ he kills the headlights, but does not turn off the engine. He reaches across to pull you in for a kiss, wild and needy. His mouth plays expertly across your own, sucking and nipping until you’re sure your lips will be swollen.

“Fuck, babydoll, you want it bad, don’t you,” Ubbe groans against your cheek. His mouth assaults your neck again, teeth grazing your skin and tugging at your ear. “Such a dirty little girl, grabbing a guy’s cock when he’s just trying to drive her home.” His kiss claims your mouth again before you can answer. You tug harder and he squares his hips toward you. He breaks away after one last a flourish of his tongue and wraps his hand around the back of your neck, pointing your face toward his straining cock. “Let’s see how far can you fit that down your throat.”

Your pussy clenches on nothing and you moan as you bend down to show him. You’re still not sure if Ubbe has any idea about doing BDSM the “right” way like Ivar does, but his frat boy, bad-porn style of dirty talk is working for you anyway. Your head is spinning at the whirlwind this night has turned into, as you suck his cock deep into your mouth. Not in a bad way, though; you’ve built enough of a relationship with Ubbe over the past weeks to know there’s a caring guy behind this disrespectful façade. It’s safe to let this thing get a little wild.

His cock is thick. It’s hard work to suck him down deeper, and the press of his blunt head at the back of your throat bothers you a little as you strive to show Ubbe just how far you can take him. Judging by his noises, you’re doing well, though, and his hands clench and un-clench in your hair as your head bobs up and down. Like he wants to encourage you but he’s holding himself back from choking you on the damn thing. “Fuck, that’s good, oh, take it deep like that.”

Soon instead of pushing you down, his clutching fingers start pulling you up.

“Get up here, straddle me, I want to see you.”

You kick your heels off quick as you can. Ubbe rips at the seat control and lays it back almost flat, giving you just enough space to plant your knees to either side of his hips on the expensive leather and hover your body over his. Your hands land on his shoulders, keeping you balanced while hunched under the roof, and while your faces are almost close enough to kiss again, Ubbe’s eyes are focused lower.

His palms run up your thighs, greedy, still muttering filthy nothings while pushing your skirt up until you remember you’re not wearing anything underneath it. You make a warning noise and he slows down, sliding around to the sides and then exploring the bottom curve of your ass carefully, reawakening the welts Ivar left there without causing any new damage. His gaze comes back to your face, pupils widening, as his hands cover both your cheeks. Reaching that far lifts his upper body closer to yours but still he doesn’t kiss you. Your skirt’s now shoved up high enough that you know your whole pussy would be visible through the front windows, if anyone were to come walking by. He spreads you further, and you wonder if he’s thinking about that too.

Does he want Ivar to catch you? Does he know you’ll be punished? Or does he not want the interruption, is that the reason that Ubbe’s tracing his fingers between your legs out here, and not taking you inside to his more comfortable bed. The questions blur and scatter as his finger slides along the slick he finds between your inner lips.

“Fuck, dirty girl,” he marvels, “you really like getting treated like this. You’re so fucking wet for me.” But he doesn’t plunge his fingers in like you’re expecting, like he did out on the balcony back at the party. Instead his hands slide up your sides, coming to scoop around your breasts, leaving your skirt rucked up high. “I want your tits out.” He pushes the straps of your tank top and bra down your shoulders, far enough to scoop your breasts out into the thin light of the parking garage’s scattered fluorescents. “That’s my beautiful, slutty little girl. Just imagine if someone came by and saw you like this.”

He slaps you across the side of your ass, lightly, but you’re sensitive enough to jump and moan just from that. His eyes follow the bounce of your breasts, hanging out of your shirt above him. Your clothes are still technically on, but they’re not covering anything important, are they.

“I love the idea of someone else seeing what I got to watch last night,” he murmurs, and then his fingertips are sliding between your slick folds again. “Would you come for me right here, with your pussy pointed right out the windshield?”

You moan in agreement, and his fingers find your clit. He keeps on muttering filthy nothings as he traps it with his fingers and squeezes, then rocks in circles that make your toes curl. His other hand squeezes into your thigh, trying to pull you closer. His lips trace the skin of your neck.

“Fuck. I can’t wait anymore.” The growling edge of his voice sounds ragged and you absolutely believe him on that. You’re feeling it too; his fingertip on your clit is amazing but after all the buildup of the past few days you need so much more than just a little teasing. “Will you ride me?”

You look down at his cock, still springing tall and proud from his open jeans, framed by your knees. You want nothing more than to sink right down onto it. “Do you have a condom?” you somehow remember to ask.

Ubbe grins darkly, and with only a little digging produces one from his pocket.

You pluck it from his fingers. “Let me.”

You’re so conscious of his eyes on your body as you sit up and concentrate on tearing the little packet open. Your bare thighs, your pert and exposed nipples, the teasing glimpse of your pussy that’s surely visible to him under the skirt that’s been pushed up to your hipbones.

Ubbe’s looking like a wet dream himself, reclined underneath you with his shirt riding up over cut abs, a light trail of hair leading down from his navel to the base of his straining cock. His pale eyes are rapt and so hungry he’s almost begging.

But only almost. As you roll the slippery latex over his fat head, a predatory spark blooms across his features. His fingers spasm and you know that as soon as you get this condom situated, you’re all his.

He scoops up your ass with both hands, pulling you closer to line yourself up. “You might be Ivar’s in there,” he murmurs, and there’s no trace of unhappiness in the words, “but right now you’re all mine. Show me. Sink yourself right down on it for me.”

So he does know. And, apparently, is entirely cool with the situation. You tease yourself with the tip of him for a moment, gliding it along your inner folds. With his eyes locking onto yours, Ubbe spits into his fingers and reaches out to coat your entrance, a cocky look on his face like he knows exactly how wide he is and how you’re going to need this to take him all the way in. Then he grasps himself at the base and presses in between your slick folds.

The stretch feels amazing as you sink down onto him. His fat cock fills you up and just keeps coming, inch after delicious inch. When your hips come to rest against his you just stay there for a while, reveling in it, gloriously full.

He bumps his hips, just a little, and you shudder. Even a small movement has a huge effect with a cock like his, making you feel tight and delicate above him. “Not too much for you already, am I princess?” he teases.

“Ho—just hold on,” you gasp, holding onto his shoulder and trying to get a grip so you don’t just drool in his face.

But Ubbe doesn’t want to see you get control of yourself. He wants to see you a panting mess. “Like this?” he says, grasping one of your hips in each hand, squeezing hard and pulling you against him even tighter.

“Ah!” you squeal, but maybe the motion feels better, despite the intensity. You rock against him, taking a shuddering breath in, and find that all that stretch melts into pure pleasure when he’s moving inside you.

“Is that how you like it, babygirl.” He turns his hips up to meet yours, matching your rhythm as he stares up at your face. “You’re taking it so good for me.”

His thrusts start to hit harder, and it becomes more difficult to keep up as wave after wave of pleasure rolls through in his wake.

“Fuck, yeah, this tight little thing. I love to feel you ride me.”

You try and rally, forcing your core muscles to keep moving because that’s what Ubbe wants. Even though his sweet impaling is making your legs feel weak.

“That’s it. Stay up just like that.” His hand has found the back of your neck and he’s coaxing you to sit up as straight as you can inside this car, bouncing over him. “You look amazing. Keep your back straight.”

Every demeaning little instruction just makes you wetter, your core burning and stretching around his fat hog with each pornographic phrase that comes out of his mouth.

“God, your pussy’s tight. I want to feel you cum all over my dick.”

He brings his hand between your bodies, finding your clit and batting a rapid, back-and-forth rhythm across it.

“Just stay up—keep sitting up high and pretty for me so I can watch you cum.”

It doesn’t take long, not with the string of filthy words that keep coming out of his mouth, not with his expert finger on your clit and the staccato bounce of his cock buried to the hilt inside you. You press your lips together so that you don’t wail as you come to pieces all around him.

As soon as you gasp in your next breath, Ubbe’s grabbing your hips again, taking over all the movements and not giving you even a moment’s rest after your peak. He fucks up into you, fast and hard and with more force than you thought one could accomplish from the driver’s seat of a tiny sports car. You bury your face in your shoulder to stop from yelping, hands clutching at his shoulders as he groans and drives himself on. “Fuck—yeah. Fuck—yeah.”

He’s hollowing you out. The aftershocks of your orgasm feel like little climaxes of their own, given that Ubbe is still bucking up into you for all that he’s worth. You’re panting, gasping into his ear and you can’t decide if you need him to finish right the fuck now, or if you want this to go on forever.

His whole body strains, and a long, wrecked sound pushes between his teeth and against your ear. He holds you to him tight, shuddering through wave after wave of his evidently spectacular finish. “Oh,” he finally pants, with a concluding-style tone, “fuck. Yeah.” His arms wrap you up tight as his entire body relaxes underneath you. “Wow, Y/N. Just, wow.”

You’re floating. Shimmering high above the clouds, luxurious and electrified both at once. You nuzzle into Ubbe’s neck and he shifts to make room for you there, inviting the post-coital snuggle.

Except, absolutely nothing else about your current position is comfortable. As your consciousness comes back down to earth, your knees are screaming and your ass feels way too conspicuously bare up here in the front seat. The steering wheel is likely not providing it much cover. You shift, and Ubbe nuzzles your cheek before letting you go. He holds the bottom of the condom down as you disengage and swing yourself back as gracefully as you can into the passenger seat.

Ubbe tilts his own seat high enough to be even with yours again. He rolls his face toward you, peaceful and present. As soon as you’ve got your shirt covering your chest again, he’s reaching out to take your hand.

“You’re really ok with this.” It’s not really a question, though he’s looking at you like he wants a response. “Both of us.”

Warmth blooms through your body as you continue to straighten your clothes. “I’m the one that should be surprised, that you’re cool with it.”

Ubbe smiles, a little darkly. “Ivar and I, we’ve got a way that we work things out. When we both want the same thing.” His thumb is playing idly with the side of your finger.

“I think I’m gathering that.”

You’re still settling your skirt back into its correct place when you hear the stairwell door swing open. The sound of Ivar’s crutches on the concrete confirm the nervous thrill that runs through you at the noise; you look down at your fingers entwined between Ubbe’s. Does this count as “his hands on you?” You glance up to meet Ubbe’s eyes nervously. He squeezes once and then lets go with a soft, conspiratory smile.

You smooth your skirt one last time and try not to look too suspicious as Ivar comes past Ubbe’s car on the way to his own.

His face lights up when he catches your eye through the glass. “Y/N, I was hoping you would be back soon!” He nods to his brother. “So kind of Ubbe to drive you home.”

Ubbe nods with a grunt that only sounds a little bit annoyed. There is a bit of smugness to Ivar’s smile.

“Forgot my phone,” Ivar says, holding it up after rummaging through his car. “Let’s go inside, shall we? I was just about to start a movie.”

 It’s too difficult to concentrate on the film he wants to show you. You’d rather think about how good it feels to be tucked under Ivar’s arm, snuggled up in the dark, even if it is a little odd that the guy that just fucked your brains out is now the one back in his bed sleeping alone.

Ivar’s fingers are dancing over your limbs, slowly, intermittently, as you pretend you’re paying attention to the movie. There’s nothing urgent about it; his fingertips just seem to like to explore.

He tickles at the base of your hairline, rolls his face into the crook of your neck. How are you supposed to think about anything but that? If he starts kissing you, you’re just going to turn off the movie.

“You’re lucky that you had your clothes back on,” Ivar murmurs in your ear. His fingers keep playing idly with your hair. “I came so close to catching you.”

You emit a sort of small animal noise. You know you didn’t violate any of his instructions today, but you still feel deliciously trapped.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” he asks, tone even, and a little bit amused.

“Mhm,” you answer in a small voice.

He nips at the edge of your ear. “Did he make you cum?”

Somehow the question sends heat flooding between your legs all over again. You’re not sure if it’s the right answer, but you nod ‘yes.’

Ivar’s fingers dig in for a moment. “Good.” Then they go back to drawing little circles all over your skin. “Tight space in that car,” he murmurs. “Were you riding him?”

Does Ivar like thinking about this as much as you do? Or is all of this some kind of trap. “Uh huh.”

Get up here, on my lap.” He pulls on your leg, setting you up to straddle him. “Let me look at you.”

You spread your legs for the second time tonight, bridging Ivar’s lap and grateful that the couch is soft enough under your overworked knees. Your pussy is already throbbing. Or did it never stop throbbing since Ubbe so thoroughly beat it up?

Ivar looks up at you, perfectly pleased by everything he sees. “Do you know how obvious it is when you’re aroused?”

You try to stop your face from flushing.

“I can tell so easily. Your lips part”—he reaches up, brushing his thumb along your bottom lip, peeling it down a little further—“your lashes get heavy, but your eyes sharpen.” His fingers trail down your collarbone. “Your skin somehow glows.”

He has to be making half of that up, but it sounds good. You put your hands on his shoulders.

“Don’t touch me, touch yourself.”

You bring your hands to your breasts, a little awkward. You wish he would let you admire his body too. Maybe you’ll ask him for that later.

He leans in, saying the next words a little lower. “You like the idea that we are both going to use you now, whenever and however we want.”

His words make you moan in agreement, and you scoop up your tits and nod.

“Our little thrall.” Affection and possessiveness drip in equal measure from his lips. “You wanted it as much as I did. I could tell, when I said it that day. You started to glow then, too.”

His fingers dance over your thighs, but he does not try to push up under your skirt.

“Tell me how much you love to be at our disposal.”

You purr for him, a little embarrassed but more than turned on enough to say some dirty things for him. “I’m all yours.” You rock your hips gently against him, mindful not to put too much pressure on his legs, and “I love letting you… have me, any part of me you want.”

“Whenever I want.”

“Whenever you want.”

“No matter how many times you’ve already come today.”

You definitely feel a flush after that one. Ivar’s hands trace up your waist, then catch at your wrists and push your hands down your body.

“Touch yourself for me now.”

You arch your back and sneak your hand into the waistband of the skirt, happy to ease the ache that’s been growing between your legs. You go right to your favorite spot, closing your eyes and making soft sounds of delight for him.

Ivar’s fingers dig into your thighs. The pain only heightens your excitement. “I almost feel sorry for you. Ubbe’s an animal, you know. Now that you’re ours he’s going to grab you every time he needs to nut and my God, that guy usually whacks it several times a day.” Although you may not be sure what, exactly Ivar gets out of telling you this, the thought is certainly sending your own arousal skyrocketing. “But then, no matter how he uses you, then”—he whacks your bottom swiftly, reactivating the bruises he left there last night—“you will always, always be ready for me.” He grabs at your wrist, making sure you’re still going, still working yourself as eagerly as he wants. “Even right afterwards. Won’t you.”

You hum and nod and press yourself even faster.

“Show me,” he urges, face dark and rapt as he stares up at your writhing passion. “Show me how your body can be so fucked out and still so absolutely ready for me.”

You moan and spread your legs wider, bringing yourself close to the edge but not wanting the moment to be over just yet. You try to keep your eyes open, staring at the way Ivar’s pupils have gone so wide there’s barely any blue, the way he licks his lips as he looks down the line of your body.

One of his hands finally slides underneath your skirt. His fingers climb quickly, his target clear when he runs one fingertip up and down your pussy. His growl is a deeply pleased noise. “So wet. That’s good, you’ll need it.” He presses more firmly; your swollen lips are tender from fitting all of Ubbe in and you jump. Ivar’s other hand is at the small of your back, catching you, holding you down.

Somehow the invasion of that one finger is as powerful to your system as Ubbe’s entire cock. Maybe it’s the way that Ivar’s gorgeous face is smirking up at you, or the sting still echoing through your abused backside, but all he has to do is press that one finger up and into you and suddenly your body is clamping down and spasming an unexpected release all around it.

You moan and writhe and keep working your own clit as the moment stretches on; you hadn’t planned to come so fast but you’re certainly going to make the most out of it. Judging by the praise Ivar’s murmuring up at you as you ride the waves of climax, you’re giving him exactly what he wanted.

When you’ve thoroughly exhausted your second fantastic orgasm of the day, you try and slump comfortably against your lover. “Stay up,” he orders instead. “Keep your back straight, I’m not done looking.”

And so you sit up straight above him, closing your eyes and letting only your head sag a little as you try and catch your breath coming down. Ivar makes it difficult by wiggling that finger inside you several times more, making pleased noises at the way you shudder and struggle to deal with the overstimulation.

“So gorgeous,” he whispers. Then he finally withdraws his finger, and draws you down to snuggle against his chest.

His hands spread wide and happy across your back. “Sorry I came so fast,” you feel compelled to say.

“Are you kidding? What better compliment could there be. You can’t control yourself around me.”

You both smile.

“I know you will always have more for me.” He pulls you down to settle into the couch beside him, grabbing a blanket to spread over the two of you. “I really do want to show you this movie, though.” He lifts the remote and presses rewind. “No more distractions now.”

On to Chapter 6

Taglist is open: @hanhanxx @xxdearlybeloved@littledeadrottinghood @persephone-is-here-omg @rekdreams247 @what-the-heart-desires @inforapound @creepshowzombae @tomarisela @vladsgirlfriend@youbloodymadgenius @walkxthexmoon@funmadnessandbadassvikings @trashqueenbitch @justlovelifeblog @earl-aive @supernaturalvikingwhore @equalstrashflavoredtrash @that-was-not-supposed-to-happen @ceridwenofwales @grungyblonde @pokeasleepingsmaug @hvittysmutanon @honestsycrets @wuxiesalt @thorins-queen-of-erebor @writingfromasgard @tootie-fruity @lordsexmachine @uncomfortable-writers @sadbutatleastsassy @sweatstreatz01 @ritual-unions-gotme

[homeformyheart]

birthday drabbles - a du mortain (twc)

author’s note: a series of birthday drabbles for my favorite commanding agent. I am so so so soft for Adina and bff!A, so just forced myself to put my thoughts on paper. hope you all enjoy!

copyright: all characters, except the oc detective, are owned by mishka jenkins @seraphinitegames. series/pairing: the wayhaven chronicles – adam du mortain x f!detective (regina bishop) & bff!ava du mortain x nb!detective (harley bishop) rating/warnings: 13+; fluff, blood mention in 2nd drabble word count: ~1.1k total (~750 for adam x regina, ~300 for ava & harley) summary: a set of drabbles around the celebration of a du mortain’s birthday.

1. adam du mortain x regina bishop (~200 words) 2. adam du mortain x regina bishop (~550 words) 3. ava du mortain & harley bishop (~300 words)

1. adam du mortain x regina bishop (~200 words)

adam tucks the folder under his arm as the team makes their way out of the facility, where they just wrapped up a meeting with rebecca. he reaches into his pocket to find his sunglasses, the glow of the setting sun a bit too bright as he follows his team toward their SUV.

his fingers curl around thick cardstock and he pulls out the offending item from his pocket, brow furrowing in confusion. the frown on his face immediately disappears as he recognizes the colored drawing on the front – a faceless gray blob with yellow and peach-colored circles above it and black lines below it, holding the hands of two much smaller peach colored blobs.

unbeknownst to him, the dimples on his cheeks deepen as he opens the card and reads the scrawling handwriting of his children.

a mix of letters he can roughly tell is supposed to say “happy birthday, papa” and “we love you.”

he feels the corner of his eyes get misty when a comforting hand appears on his shoulder. he looks up at nate’s knowing smile.

“they were pretty upset that i went to work today,” adam murmurs sheepishly, tucking the card carefully into his folder.

nate smiles. “so go home to them now. we’ll see you tomorrow.”

adam looks up and realizes that morgan is sitting in the drivers’ seat of the SUV and gives his friend an appreciative nod before heading off in the opposite direction toward their family home.

***** 2. adam du mortain x regina bishop (~550 words); tw: blood mention

adam remains still, laying on his back in their empty bedroom and staring up at the ceiling. his hands are folded over his stomach, fingers intertwined, as he waits. he’s had almost a millennia to learn how to be patient, but he finds all that time means nothing when it comes to being with his family.

his wife. who also lovingly threatened requested that he pretend to be asleep and stay in the room until the children were ready with their surprise.

he can hear them all the way downstairs in the kitchen, squealing and yelling over each other, fighting over who gets to bring what up to him and he can’t help but smile at the image of a pregnant regina trying to wrangle their two very energetic children.

finally, he hears them make their way up the stairs, their two little ones scampering up ahead of regina’s slow, deliberate steps. his fingers twitch at the image of her carrying a tray of breakfast items (that he knows he will have to pretend to enjoy as they have not yet told their children that he does not need to eat real food) since he would prefer that she stay off her feet and let him help.

(but he knows by now – after two kids – that even suggesting that will earn him an earful about how she is not helpless just because she is pregnant).

he closes his eyes just as the door is nudged open and the hallway light spills into the room.

“surprise! happy birthday papa!” jacques and cecilia scream out as they clamber up onto the bed and jump up and down.

“thank you, my loves,” he murmurs, wrapping them both up in his arms and pulling them down to his side as he sits up against the headboard.

regina’s eyes sparkle as she approaches the bed with the tray, sitting carefully on the edge by his side. he grabs the tray from her and sets it down over his lap, before wrapping his arm around her waist. she reaches for the black tumbler and hands it to him before grabbing a mug of her own decaf coffee.

“your coffee that the kids helped make,” she says with a wink.

“did they now?” he chuckles, taking the tumbler from her and looking down at the single waffle on the tray that he knows she will eat after he “insists” that she needs it more than him.

it’s a routine that’s worked very well for them throughout her pregnancy and saves him from having to eat human food too often (even though they both know he would do anything to make his family happy).

“yeah, we helped!” jacques says proudly, his tongue peeking out from the gap in the top row of his teeth.

adam takes a careful sip, bracing himself for the awfully bitter, dirt-like flavor that his hypersenses reduces coffee to. his eyes open in pleasant surprise as the taste of slightly warm blood hits his tongue instead, the color hidden by the black color of the container.

“what do you think, papa?” cecilia asks eagerly, her sandy brown pigtails bouncing up and down.

“it’s the best breakfast i’ve ever had,” he says honestly as he wraps his other arm tightly around them both, smiling as they squeal and laugh.

***** 3. bff!ava du mortain & harley bishop (x felix hauville) (~300 words)

ava turns off the SUV’s engine and steps out, leaves crunching underfoot as she takes in her surroundings. she takes off her sunglasses and peers around the clearing before glancing at the note in her hand.

commanding agent du mortain –

we need you to pick up a package that will be left at the coordinates below. the rest of the team will stand by at the warehouse.

agent bishop’s signature at the bottom made it easy for her to move out without hesitation. she trusts rebecca and thus far has had no reason to question her orders.

but an uneasy feeling settles in her stomach and her brow furrows in thought.

if this assignment is so low-risk, why send her? it seems like something felix and the detective could handle easily, and they would more than jump at the chance to do something together.

she approaches the package, which is really a basket, laid out on top of a checkered blanket. she reaches for the note taped to the top of the basket, eyes softening at the message.

hey ava,

i know you would probably prefer to avoid whatever felix wanted to plan for your birthday and i managed to convince him to let me take over instead. we thought you might enjoy some time alone – we packed a book, some reports, a bottle of your favorite wine and your breakfast blood in the sippy cup (i’m really sorry, i had to give felix at least that).

happy birthday.

take your time, we’ll take care of anything that comes up on our end.

- harley

commanding agent du mortain is not soft by most definitions of the word, but she certainly feels touched. appreciated. loved.

and once more she has her family to thank for that. including the detective.

* * * * * permatag: @kelseaaa; @kat-tia801; @anotherbeingsworld; @crackerdumortain; @pearlsandsteel; @gloynporslen; @writer-ish; @sosolenoo; @alyssalauren; @fhauvilles; @wayhavenots; @gingerbreton; @takemyopenheart;

[exosmutfactory]

Six Phases 005 Pt 2

Who knew it nearly took 6 months to win your heart, and 6 phases for Baekhyun to lose his mind.

[ contains: romance, fluff, angst, & smut ]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3  P(1) P(2) | Part 4 P(1) P(2) | Part 5 P(1) P(2) ✓ | Part 6 P(1)  P(2)

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

Orginally posted by sefuns

I'm starting to wonder when that talk will happen—if ever. It's been two weeks of us in the same dynamic as the start of our relationship. If I had known we would resort back to this point all those months ago, I would have left that night of our first kiss and never looked back. (Says this with my full chest as if my heart would allow such a thing. I'd just continue sitting and staring up at the ceiling with disappointment squeezing the mess out of my poor muscle).

A buzz pulls me from my miserable thoughts, turning my attention to my phone dangerously close to falling off the side of my bed. I catch it just before it tips over the edge.

//

I'm outside

1:30pm

//

Puffing my cheeks while sending a reply, I stand up from my pile of blankets. Temporary safe haven left for my return in a few days.

Smoothing out the fabric of my blue jeans, I move to slip into my simple black and white converses; making sure my phone and charger are safely tucked into my silver purse. Taking one last look around the room still containing Jenny's messy array of clothes on her bed, my lips quirk up into a quick smile. Some things never change.

Choosing to go down the stairs today, I make sure the door is locked behind me; shoving my hands into the pockets of my dark gray hoodie with quick strides. The hallways are packed with students preparing to leave for the long weekend as well. A few barely familiar faces waving me farewell.

I slip through the door someone carelessly walked out of moments before, not even to look back to check if anyone else was coming out in their haste. I’ve hit my face a couple of times from instances like these. Never again.

Shaking my head, I pick up my pace at the sight of a familiar shiny black Audi parked out in front. The visual of Baekhyun's form clad in a black t-shirt, white hoodie, and an off-white coat leaning against the expensive car is nearly enough for my heart to stop. And the smile he sends my way could melt me into a puddle all together. "Hey." His voice is tentative like the hand that gently tucks hair behind my ear.

"Hi," My voice is barely above a whisper as he moves to open the passenger door, the way his brown eyes watch me has my own shyly lowering to his ripped blue jeans; carefully maneuvering around his brand new multicolored gray shoes to step into the car. I take a peek at him walking around to climb inside as well; smiling at his little shiver when he opens the door in wake of a chilly breeze.

"You're not bringing anything?" He inquires once he’s settled in the driver's seat, looking over at me while the engine purrs to life.

I simply shake my head, observing how the colorful trees pass by the window, turned into an array of different hues in the wake of the best season there is; Fall. It may only be the beginning of September, but the signs are all there. Late sunrises, chillier nights, and the scattering of fallen leaves across the ground. The season of pleasant walks without the hinder of bees, sneezing fits from pollen, or the unmerciful heat of the sun.

We barely say a word as the rest of the world flies by, but there is less tension in the car. I hesitate a bit before reaching for the stereo, pausing when Baekhyun beats me there; turning the radio to our favorite station with a knowing smile.

It's about a 3-hour commute from campus to my home. Tall innovative buildings gradually morphing into more humble structures; brick walls versus floor to ceiling windows.

I direct Baekhyun down a few back roads that his GPS struggles to navigate, taking pleasure in how his eyes widen the moment we pull up to the house. "Whoa…"

Rose bushes I helped my grandmother plant are still in full bloom out front in the spacious yard; ruby reds and pretty pinks basking in the unshy sunlight beaming from above. The familiar scent of freshly cut grass greets my nose the moment I step out of the car, glancing back at Baekhyun when he goes to retrieve his duffle bag from the backseat.

"Baby!"

Spinning back on my heel, I open my arms on instinct, receiving a tight hug from a fast moving small person with a quiet ‘oof!’ "Hi Mom." I mumble through my restricted breath, her short hair tickling my chin.

She pulls back a bit in realization, grinning sheepishly up at me before her brown eyes flicker somewhere behind me, hardening into that classic protective mother bear look. "You sure haven't been calling much this week."

"I was busy," I try to justify, a slight whine in my voice that seems to startle Baekhyun. The loud thud of what I assume is his head hitting the roof of the car makes us both turn to him. He's gingerly rubbing the back of his head, the expression of a kid being caught doing something they shouldn't on his reddening face.

"Busy, huh?" Her eyes narrow in suspicion.

"Yep! I had a few assignments to finish up in advance," I chirp; mindful to keep the nervousness out of my voice, easing her up a little as Baekhyun carefully makes his way over to us. My hand comfortably slips into his despite the swarm of butterflies in my stomach under her watchful stare. "Mom, this is Baekhyun." Peeking over at him, I look back to her, motherly instinct still visible in her eyes. "Baekhyun, this is my mom."

"Hello, Mrs. Parker," His tone is similar to the one he uses when greeting associates; calm, respectful, and observant of her fiercely yet wary mannerisms while sliding the duffle strap further up his shoulder before holding out his hand to her.

She squints down at his hand, meets his eye, and grips his hand for a firm handshake; pops of his bones being squeezed audible to all our ears. "Mr. Byun." After one last look to size him up, she swiftly turns away.

"Did I ever mention she's ex-military?" I whisper in his ear as she walks back up the short driveway leading to the house.

"No," He replies just as quietly with wide eyes, slowly flexing his fingers.

"Well then! Let's go," Holding his hand more firmly in mine, I venture after my mom, quick to catch the door before it closes behind her. "There's someone else you should meet."

"Your dad?" He inquires stepping over the threshold.

"Shoes go over there," I point to a rack stationed next to the large carpet that we keep in front of the door, slightly shaking my head. "No, men rarely enter this house."

His lips part along with the furrow in his brows, question at the tip of his tongue, "Wha-"

"Honey bear!" I turn just in time to be wrapped up in another tight hug, resting my free hand on their back. "Hi Grandma," My voice comes out muffled in her shoulder, the comforting scent of lavender and her shoulder-length salt & pepper hair tickling my nose.

She pulls back to look me over with a warm smile, sending the same sentiment Baekhyun's way before taking my other hand. "Come on, I'll whip up something for lunch."

Baekhyun's eyes light up a bit at the prospect, his shoulders losing tension as he neatly sets down his duffle bag on the couch, letting her lead us further into the house. A few family pictures on the wall catches his eye along the way. I gently cup his chin to distract him from the more embarrassing ones, why the hell is there a photo of me completely destroying my dinner in my high chair on the front wall!?!

"Grandma," I start the second we step into the kitchen, placing my hand on my hip, "What happened to the cream curtains?"

"In the closet," She lifts up the blinds of the blue-curtained window above the sink, making her way over to the refrigerator. "I forgot. We can put them back up later, have a seat."

Taking my designated seat at—arguably—the tail end of the rectangular table, I shoot a smile over at Baek settling into the seat to my right, sliding my hand back into his under the privacy of the autumn-themed tablecloth.

The distinct smell of chicken and relish reaches my nose, dragging my attention away from admiring the warmth of his brown orbs. "Grandma? Are you making chicken salad?"

Her reassuring hum makes me squeal a little, my gaze shifts back to Baekhyun when he lightly squeezes my hand, shooting me a fond smile. "Chicken salad?" He inquires, sparkly eyes full of curiosity.

I nod, softly playing with his fingers, "It's canned chicken, relish, and mayo."

His brow lifts a little, "I thought you hated mayonnaise?"

"I do," I mumble, sneaking a quick kiss to his cheek when no one is looking, feeling my heart leap a bit at the unexpected act of affection. "It tastes better than it sounds, trust me."

His cheeks redden, and even more so when mom's voice rings out in the quiet room.

"Kissing in the kitchen now, huh?"

"Mom," I weakly protest, hiding my red face behind my hand as Baekhyun directs his gaze to the tabletop. She swiftly enters the room with a teabag in hand, opening the fridge while Grandma stands by the countertop, mixing all the ingredients together.

"Perfectly fine," Mom comments, coming back out of the fridge with a small glass container in her other hand, walking over to our side of the table while cheekily adding, "Not in front of the food though."

"Kimberly," Grandma chastises, making her way over as well. Mom just sets down the dish with a playful smile, "I peeled you a few carrots when I heard you were coming."

"Really?" I perk up, receiving and thanking them for the food while Baekhyun shyly gives his gratitude as well; I can't help smiling at the bashful expression playing at his handsome features, looking totally out of his element. Who knew he'd be this reserved? It's cute.

"Here," I quickly retrieve a packet of crackers from the shelf stationed against the wall behind me, opening them up as Baekhyun looks over the food curiously. "We usually eat it with bread or crackers," I pause, taking a good look at him then, "Do you want bread instead?"

He lightly shakes his head, the motion causes his long hair to dangle into his eyes, creating an even more adorably shy expression on his cute face. It's hard containing my fond smile while giving him some crackers and scooping chicken salad on his plate. "We ate this often back in the US," I murmur, handing him the spoon before grabbing another. "Chicken salad. Sometimes with soup."

"She'd toast her bread," Grandma sits across from Baekhyun, digging into her own small portion of tuna salad; the potent smell of onions filling the air.

"And drown it with mustard," Mom mutters, phone in one hand and steaming cup of ginger tea in the other. "She puts that shit on everything, I swear."

"Hey!" I shoot them both a mock look of betrayal as she takes the remaining seat, setting her phone neatly on the table. "Why must you two gang up on me?"

"Gotta make sure he knows what he's getting himself into," She mumbles, sipping her tea, turning to face Baekhyun then. "Does she still leave leftovers if it's more than a sandwich?" She inquires, eyeing him evenly. "And her eyes sparkle at the mention of ice cream?"

"Ah, well…" He falters, eyes briefly flickering to the ceiling, a thoughtful expression on his face. A little smile forming on his lips before looking her way again. "Actually, yes." He utters softly, sparkly orbs peeking over at me.

I start taking a bite out of my meal with my hand blocking them from view, pretending as if they—and myself—are not here.

"Still got the appetite of a little kid." Grandma chuckles, glancing over at me while spooning tuna on her bread. "How is Sehun doing, sweetie?"

The shy feeling in my chest eases away. Perking up at the change of topic, I chirp, "Great! His gym is going well, and he just moved in with his lover into a new apartment.~"

"Really?" Her smile is visible even from her blue eyes alone, aged hand brushing away wild strands of salt and pepper hair from her forehead. "That's good, I'm glad."

Mom makes a noise over her cup of tea, arching a brow as she utters lowly, "Y'all not thinking of moving in together are you-"

"Mom!" I shake my head, waving my hands around. "No, no. We're not at that point-"

"We're not?" Baekhyun mumbles, a petulant tone to his quiet voice.

We all fall silent at that, wordlessly looking at him. My blush dying down in an instant.

"Ah, Kim," Grandma pushes away from the table, sandwich clutched in hand. "I need help with that thing I told you about earlier."

"Thing?" Mom's brows furrow, pure confusion on her face, "What thing-"

"The thing," Grandma emphasizes, urging her to stand, already leading the way out of the kitchen. "Let's leave the lovebirds to their meal, they must be tired from their journey." She throws her arm over Mom's shoulder as she continues to grumble in confusion, glancing back at us with knowing blue eyes as they turn the corner and flashing a wink.

I relax back in my chair, sinking down a little with a shaky sigh. Heart jumping at the fingertips tentatively searching for my hand.

"You good?" Baekhyun murmurs, warm breath caressing my cheek.

"Yeah," My eyes lazily drift back over to him. The dazed look in his eyes makes me straighten up, "I should be asking you that. You okay?"

He hums, dabbing his lips with a napkin. Crescent moon eye-smile giving away the hidden curl of his lips. "I'm a little surprised, is all." He murmurs.

"Really?" My eyes widen, heart-squeezing uncomfortably in my chest. "W-Why?"

"You," Baekhyun mutters, setting down the napkin. Slender index finger smoothing out the furrow between my brows, "You're a spitting image of your mom and a carbon copy of your grandma..." He tilts his head, brown orbs twinkling thoughtfully; a little smirk forming on his lips, "With a dash of rebel spirit."

"Yah," I complain, batting his hand away from pinching my cheek. He isn't wrong though, I only let my mom boss me around. And even then, I always find loopholes within the rules she sets out for me. Thanks, Grandma. But it's hard playing the role of a good daughter with him around. Do I behave like the person he knows or the one he hasn't seen? This weekend will be full of testing the waters, it seems...

Baekhyun just chuckles, going back to his meal.

"Do you wanna go somewhere?" I mumble after a few minutes, holding a cracker topped high with salad and carefully cupping it with my other hand while stuffing it in my mouth.

Baekhyun hums, brown eyes shifting from the last few bites on his plate to focus on me. "Where do you wanna go?" His words come out muffled, cheeks adorably stuffed with food.

"There's this nice park in town," Neatly tucking our leftover crackers into a sandwich bag to keep them fresh for later, I add, "It has biking trails, a playground, and a mini water park-"

"Your stomach hurts if you walk too much after eating," Baekhyun raises a brow, swallowing the rest of his food. "And you hate getting your hair wet."

"I know!" It's hard containing my smile. I'm flattered that he remembered such trivial things. I rest my head on his shoulder and hug his arm, looking up into his sparkly brown eyes. "We could go swing for awhile?~"

Baekhyun looks me over for a long moment, lips quirking up as he reaches to dab the corner of my lips with a napkin as well. "Okay," He mumbles, adding fondly. "Only for you."

I bite my lip to fight back another smile, stacking our empty plates and taking his hand. Gently setting them in the sink before leading him deeper into the house. "Mom? Grandma?"

"In here, honey."

Following the sound of Grandma's voice, I rest my free hand on the open door frame, peeking into her bedroom. Finding mom clicking around her old computer while she stands by the open window. "I'm gonna show Baekhyun around at the park, we'll be back for dinner."

"Okay, baby," Mom mumbles, brows furrowed in concentration. Grandma shoos us away with a little smile.

Smiling their way, I glance at Baekhyun, squeezing his hand before walking back out into the living room. We retrieve our shoes from the rack, slipping into them again. His quiet chuckles filling the room while steadying my wobbling body before I fall over; cursing gravity while struggling to pull on my right converse.

A few neighbors are out in their yards as we make our way to the car, some men that go to the same college I do. The sight of them and their cat-calls has me flinching, quickly hiding behind Baekhyun. Peeking with an embarrassed expression over his shoulder as he glares at them. I swear I've seen them at Jongdae's party… My face bursts into flames, even more so at the way Baekhyun gives me the side-eye as if he has a good idea of why they are like this as well.

I meekly climb into the Audi, gently closing the door behind me as Baekhyun starts the engine. Throwing his arm over the back of my seat while backing out of the driveway in an unfairly attractive manner. His brown eyes flicker over to me with a blank expression on his face. I just sink down as far as possible in my seat.

The ride to the park is dead silent, not even the radio is on to defuse the stifling tension in the air. I fight the urge to keep taking glances over at Baekhyun. His tight grip on the steering wheel is enough of an indication of the current mood he is in. What has him mad now? I don't know how much more of this I can take…

We finally arrive at the park, I slip out of the car the moment he pulls into a parking space. Not even waiting for him before venturing down a familiar walking trail. The sounds of his shoes hitting the pavement has me quickening my pace. Adrenaline fueling me forward.

"Riley!"

Nope nope nope. The last few weeks bombard me all at once, causing a lump to form in my throat along with the tight squeeze in my chest. I crouch down under the weight of my unrelenting thoughts, wrapping my arms around my knees. Why did I let him come home with me? How do I face them now when we are like this? One look at my face and they'll know everything.

/

"How do I know you were with her?"

The bitterness in his voice perfectly matched the cold of his dull eyes. The bite of his menace full words.

"You were out fucking Jongin."

/

My heart practically shatters, feeling pressure behind my stinging eyes. Will we always be like this? Are we just going to continue down this road of destruction until… until—

"Riley."

I flinch away from the hand resting on my shoulder, head snapping up to see him through blurry eyes. The concern written all over his face nearly enough to send me to tears.

"I told you not to push yourself," He mumbles, thumb gently swiping beneath my eye. Brown orbs a complete 360 from what they were earlier. "Come on," He urges, crouching down to my level, looking all over my person. "Let's go sit down. You wanted to swing, hmm? I'll push you."

I slowly nod, my stress ebbing away as he wraps his comforting arms around me, carefully pulling me up to stand. His distinct scent makes me soften further within his hold; my gaze focused on our respect shoes as he leads me toward the playground with his arm over my shoulders.

"No one is here today?" I look up at his question, briefly taking in the confusion on his face before sweeping my eyes over the vacant area. "Strange," My response is simple, hands shoved deep in the front pocket of my hoodie.

Baekhyun glances down at me, brushing his thumb over my jaw. "Pick which one you want, love."

Wordlessly moving away from the warmth of his embrace, I plop down into the swing I always go to when no one else is using it. The leather seat is visibly higher up from the ground than its twin, a fresh patch of lighter shaded dirt underneath. Less strain for me later when I try to stop myself instead of having to stretch my legs towards the dug-up ground. And white sneakers be damned, I need this.

The scent of vanilla tickles my nose, Baekhyun's lean form in my peripheral vision as I tighten my grip on the metal handles. Butterflies fluttering in my stomach while he pulls me back, my feet lifting off of the ground.

He gives me the lightest push forward, and I scoff, shooting him a glare. "You can do better than that, Byun."

His lips twitch, a mischievous glint in his eye while I'm swinging back towards him, tucking my legs to make sure my shoes won't dirty his jeans. His next push has significantly more strength behind it. I squeak at the croak of the old chains, laughing loud as I launch myself along with the motion; soaring towards the sky. There's nothing quite freeing like the weightless feeling that comes with swinging. Aiming higher and higher until the chains drop heavily under my weight on the way down. Nothing to worry about except the wind in your hair and falling out at a scary height.

"This is so fun!" I yell, beaming with bounds of delightful adrenaline; glancing over my shoulder at Baekhyun. My smile dims when he isn't there.

"Baek?.." I slow down to a stop, burying my converses in the dirt. Twisting around in my seat for any sign of the silver-haired man, a sense of panic steadily rising in my chest. Where did he go? He… didn't leave or anything, right? It's getting a bit harder to breathe.

"Baekhyun? Baek-" I yelp at the sudden tug on my swing, looking up at the man in front of me with wide eyes.

Baekhyun holds the eye contact with dark brown orbs, slowly pulling me closer until our foreheads touch, his breathing steady compared to my slightly labored one. He looks so eternal against the backdrop of the sun beginning to set. Stunning pink, purple, and orange hues framing around his heart-stopping features like the most beautiful portrait, painting him in a hypnotizing glow. The way his eyes constantly flicker down to my mouth makes me gulp, my face heating up against the cool fall air.

Baekhyun licks his lips, meeting my eyes before leaning in. I release a shaky breath, eyes fluttering shut at the brush of his soft pillows to mine, grip tightening on the old sturdy chains of the swing.

The kiss starts out soft, his lips tentatively moving with mine, but then the mood shifts. His hands grabbing my hips and my own tugging on his silver hair, our tongues battling for dominance in a knee-weakening dance. The loud clearing of someone's throat breaks us from our spell.

Baekhyun remains unphased, shamelessly taking his time to pull away with a wet smack of lips. "I think we have an audience, love." He chuckles, licking his bottom lip in a way that has my insides quivering. I avert my gaze from the stranger's heated glare, focusing on our dirty shoes instead.

Baekhyun tucks his finger under my chin, bright orbs twinkling in amusement. "Let's go?" He mumbles, raising a brow, holding his hand out to me.

I nod quietly, still a bit breathless as he helps me out of the swing, my shaky knees buckling under me. Baekhyun's hands rest with familiarity on my waist, holding me up as I struggle to get my legs working properly again. His naturally addictive scent and alluring eyes don't help my current situation at all. Do I ever get a break from falling for this man? Literally!?

"Let's get you home before your mother skins me alive," He murmurs humoredly, his brown eyes alight, leading our way back to the car.

The smell of fried fish greets us at the threshold of the door. I perk up at the sound of boiling hot cooking oil, hastily slipping out of my shoes. Leaving Baekhyun to neatly place them back on the rack while running to the kitchen. "Grandma, you didn't!~"

"Grab a plate." She chuckles, setting a fresh batch of fish in a serving tray. The sight of fries and home-made onion rings making my eyes widen in glee. I skip over to the sink to wash my hands, quickly getting two plates from the high cabinets and heading to the stove to grab the desired pieces of fish. Setting a few of the biggest ones on Baekhyun's blue striped dish.

He joins us at the stove with washed hands just as I'm biting into an onion ring, pressing a kiss to my temple with a little hum. "Careful, baby!" He exclaims as I fan my burnt mouth, catching the ring in his palm before it can fall to the floor.

"Same little Riley," Mom shakes her head, handing me a cold glass of water with a pacifying hug.

"I'm not little!" My words come out weird around my throbbing tongue, wildly gesturing between our height difference as Baekhyun chuckles, taking our plates to the table. Grandma shortly joins in on the embrace, "Hush and go eat your food."

"That's what got me into this predicament in the first place," I grumble, wiggling away after a few moments.

We all take our seats, respective plates containing appetizing food. No one cooks Southern delicacy quite like Grandma. I swear, give her fresh meat or cans of anything and she can create a masterpiece. My mouth is salivating just at the thought of the perfectly seasoned meal in front of me. Baekhyun's knowing look keeps me from taking a bite of the steaming fry held carefully between my nails. Right, a repeat of a few minutes ago isn't the wisest idea. I set it back on my plate with a pout.

"Ooh~ she went for the onion rings again." Mom teases, drawing everyone's attention to me reaching for the ketchup bottle. "Expect to get a few mouthfuls of seconds," She continues, amused eyes drifting over to Baekhyun.

"Here," Grandma breaks off a few paper towels, handing them to me. I take them shyly, carefully breaking my pieces of fish in half, "Picky little eater. She gets it from her mom." She gestures to the other end of the table, Mom pausing mid-break of her fish.

"I like to know what I'm eating," She justifies, munching on a fry, "Can you hand me the mustard, baby?"

"Mmhm!" I stretch with the yellow bottle across the table, starting to stand up to walk around to her side instead when Baekhyun gently takes it from my hand, politely giving it to her.

Conversation flows easily after that. Both of them taking turns asking Baekhyun questions regarding his work and home life. I watch them carefully, swiftly steering the conversation away from a handful of embarrassing childhood memories. No way in hell I'm letting him hear any of that. My gaze shoots down to my plate, the last little half of my fish makes me wince at the thought of eating anything more. Realizing this, I shyly tug on Baekhyun's shirt, trying to inconspicuously get his attention, "Baekhyun…"

"Hmm?" His cheeks are puffed up with the last of his food, the attentive look in his eyes makes me bashfully lower mine.

"Do you want the rest of my food?" I meekly utter, worrying my bottom lip.

He chews a few times, swallows the food in his mouth, and dabs at his lips with a napkin before leaning to kiss my forehead, flashing a reassuring smile at me. "Yes, baby."

"Do you know she's afraid of the dark?" Mom sips her drink, grinning knowingly my way. Oh no.

Baekhyun hums thoughtfully, shaking his head. "No, she never mentions when she stays-" My muffled squeal draws his eyes back to me, innocent orbs widening, "Over."

Mom faces me then, "Do you need-"

"I'm sleeping with the lights on, yes," I interject, not missing a beat. A few decent nights of rest is needed before my first day of work on Monday. The thought alone makes me shiver. Why do I have to do this adulting shit again?

"See?" She complains, a whine to her loud voice. "I can't get her to sleep with them off for the life of me!"

"Scary stuff happens in the dark! You've said it yourself!" I rebuke just as dramatically, hands firmly planted on the table. Grandma and Baekhyun just laugh watching us.

"Lights out and sharing leftovers…" She mutters, idly swirling the contents in her glass, a little smirk hinting at whatever flustering thing she will say next. "When's the wedding?"

I seek an escape within my folded arms on the table, hanging my head in mock defeat as harmless laughter echoes around the room.

///

I insist on helping them with the dishes after dinner, Baekhyun being shooed out the room by Grandma and fixed with a stern stare from Mom. He goes on to take a shower while sheepishly ruffling his hair.

"So..." Mom gives me the side-eye, hands deep in soapy water. "You've been dating this man for a year and haven't made a peep about him-"

"Half a year!" I clarify, mindful of her disapproving tone while wiping at the damp plate with a brown square pattern dish towel in my hands. Listening carefully to make sure the shower down the hall is still running before lowering my voice. "Plus I wanted to make sure he was worth mentioning, Ma," I whine, shrinking back at the stern look she gives me. "Or bringing home…"

"Well, he seems like a nice young man," Grandma inputs, neatly setting dried plates up in the cabinets.

"Sure..." Mom mutters, handing me a glass, going back to washing the dishes. I send Grandma a grateful look over her shoulder, she just winks at me.

"Riley?" Baekhyun's gentle voice breaks through the quiet atmosphere of swaying water and silverware clinking together. I glance over my shoulder, turning fully at the sight of his hair dripping non-stop onto his black t-shirt. "Baek, what have I told you about drying your hair?" I tsk, walking over with quick strides. Pulling the towel hanging around his neck and reaching up to gently dry his silver locks. "It's not good for your health or your dyed hair." I can't help but grumble, carefully detangling the delicate strands. "Are you tryna get sick or go bald?"

"No..." He mumbles, head tilted down as I smooth out his hair.

"What am I gonna do with you…" I sigh, resting my hands on his shoulders, taking in the sheepish expression on his face. My weak heart softens, "Will you be alright out here for the night?"

He nods, putting the towel back around his shoulders, "It's not my first time sleeping on an air mattress."

My lips quirk up a little, sending him an apologetic look. An all-women house means all women rules—no men are allowed in our rooms in the rare instance they stay over. For good reason too, I'd throw a fit if either Mom or Grandma pulled that shit—keep your relationship business out of my earshot!!! For fuck sake.

I follow Baekhyun over to the mattress in the middle of the living room floor, stacked high with some of my own pillows. (The watchful stare I received from mom while tugging them out of my room… Worth it). And a thick comforter. It's that odd time of year where it's late to turn off the air conditioner yet too soon to switch on the heat. Subjecting us to many cold nights and hot mornings.

"You can kiss, we won't look," Mom's teasing tone floats from the kitchen doorway, Grandma not too far behind. The noise of protest I squeak out is too high pitched for my own ears, nearly jumping off my perch at the edge of the bouncy mattress.

Baekhyun laughs in that adorable way of his, cheeks rosy and eyes twinkling in delight as he wraps an arm around my waist. I hide my red face in his broad shoulder instead.

My family heads to sleep early for the night, lucky with being able to venture to the realm of dreams just as their heads hit their pillows. Must be nice, it takes hours of endless social media scrolling to catch up with friends before I can think of catching a wink of rest. Sehun sends me a meme so damn ridiculous I have to muffle my laughter in fear of waking everyone else up.

I don't settle down for sleep until well after midnight. The temperature in the room seems to have dropped 10 degrees within the last hour, making me shiver, quickly grabbing a fleece pajama top to pull over my butterfly printed sleeping shirt. After countless hours spent tossing and turning, I decided to get out of bed, walking over to open my door on light feet; peeking around to make sure no one else is awake.

Tiptoeing out into the hall, I avoid the creaks in the floorboards, smiling tiredly at the adorable sight up ahead in the living room.

Baekhyun is tucked under a pile of blankets, nothing but his silver-haired head exposed to the chilly temperature in the house. 70 degrees in Autumn is a complete 180 from 70 degrees in the Summer here. Thanks a lot, climate.

I ease my way into the room, taking a quick glance towards the dark kitchen that sends a shiver going down my spine.

"Baekhyun?" I whisper, trying to see if he's awake or not. Receiving no response, I inch closer; crouching down to rest my hand on his back, "Baek—"

He flinches, air mattress squawking under his weight, "Shit... Baby?" He chuckles, leaning upon his arm, running a hand through his ruffled hair. "You scared me."

"Yeah?" I whisper, biting back a laugh, "I can see that." Smiling softly at his weak glare, I shuffle closer on my knees.

"What are you doing?" He mumbles, sleep evident in his droopy eyes, low vocal octave, and the fabric indent on his cheek.

"Couldn't sleep," I shrug, watching him with a smile. "What about you?" I ask, hands resting comfortably on my knees, my eyes widening. "Are you comfortable? If your back hurts or anything we can sw—" A warm hand cupping my cheek silences me. I blink a few times while meeting his gaze; the fondness I find there warming up my sleepy form from the inside out.

"I'm alright," He mumbles, thumb rubbing over the curve of my cheek. Smile growing on his lips as I lean into his touch.

"Good." I hum, closing my eyes and nuzzling his palm.

"Come here," He sweetly requests.

Humming again, I focus on his comforting touch; squeaking when I'm suddenly being pulled onto the bed.

"Shh!" He hushes, laughing under his breath at the disgruntled look on my face; coaxing me to lay by his side.

I do so grumpily, heart still racing a mile a minute until the familiar scent of vanilla and Baekhyun wraps around me like a warm blanket. The racing of his own heart under my palm brings a smile to my lips. Quiet mutters under his breath has my eyes peeling back open to meet his, "Hmm?"

"It's not the same sleeping without you." He murmurs, softly squeezing his arms around my waist, a hint of shyness on his sleepy features.

"You seem to be doing just fine these past few weeks," I can't help but remind him, pointedly arching a brow.

Baekhyun sighs, pressing a lingering kiss to my forehead that causes my cheeks to warm. "I'm sorry."

"All talk, where's the action?" I play it off as a joke, teasing grin contrasting the war raging in my heart and the depths of my worried mind.

He looks me over for a while, tucking a stubborn lock of hair behind my ear. "I am. Starting…" He leans closer, soft lips hovering over mine, hot whisper making goosebumps rise on my skin, "Now."

//

"Sneaking around, huh?"

I barely give a response, snuggling closer to the pleasant heat of the pillow wrapped up in my arms only to pause when it vibrates under my touch, an all-too-familiar chuckle tickling my ear. My eyes snap open with a squeak, ducking under the covers at the sight of Baekhyun's lazy yet attractive smile. The feeling of his warm hand on the back of my bare thigh sends my cheeks aflame. How hard do you have to blush before catching on fire? I fear I am nearing that point.

"Here I was thinking I'd catch you both in your room this morning, but this-" Mom continues as I poke out my head, shooting her a grumpy look.

Grandma enters the room from the kitchen, lightly smacking her arm. "Leave them be." She scolds, smiling sweetly at us. "Good morning, lovebirds. Come, breakfast is ready."

And with that, Baekhyun and I swiftly began the new day. I offered to go to the store with Grandma to pick out something nice for dinner—and to sneak a peek at the dessert aisle. Who am I kidding, I got a cinnamon bun flavored tub of ice cream sitting in the cart right now. The description alone enough to make my eyes sparkle, according to Grandma.

"So," She begins, placing lettuce in the cart, "What was the fight about?"

"Grandma!" I splutter, nearly dropping the cucumbers in my hands along with my startled heartbeat. See what I mean? Can't hide shit in this house!

"What? You're both tiptoeing around each other like guilty little kids." She holds open the plastic bags as I drop the fruit inside with care. "It's not good to leave a fight unresolved, you know?"

"I-I know, it's just…" He's one of the most stubborn men alive—"Heart to hearts is not really our strong suit..."

"Do you want this relationship to last?" She looks me dead in the eye then, seeming to find an answer despite my silence. "A relationship cannot work without communication and trust." Her statement is firm, but her tone softens, "You've seen what happens when those are lacking."

I go quiet for a while, taking a peek at the grocery list, "I'll go pick the spaghetti noodles." With that, I venture off on my own.

My pace is slow, dragging my feet deeper into the store. A chew toy left in the middle of my path nearly sends me falling on my face. Texting and walking who? More like no thinking and walking, I've become a walking hazard here.

The desired aisle is easy to find, an array of noodle brands with tomato sauce on the opposite side. I scan the shelves, making sure every product matches the pictures on my phone. Mom is funny about what she eats.

I'm debating over which sauce is the right kind when a long fingernailed hand is digging into my shoulder. I spin around with a hiss, ready to tear into whatever fucker had the audacity to put their filthy hands on me only to pause, blinking at the woman standing in front of me.

"Oh good, it is you," The raven woman drawls in a high pitched yet raspy voice, smelling heavily of smoke. "I need to talk to you." Recognition takes longer than usual to set in. It's that fucking ex-fling of Baekhyun's—

Or is she an ex? That small part of me wonders, a lump suddenly forms in my throat. I ain't got time for this shit, and I swear her hair changes more than the seasons. What did Baekhyun ever see in her—don't answer that. Shut up.

"I'm casually gonna walk away," I utter blankly, swiftly turning on my heel only for her to end up following me.

"I need to tell you something."

My eye twitches, counting backward from 20 in my head. "I don't give a flying fu-"

"I know what Baekhyun refuses to tell you." She drops, stopping me dead in my tracks.

Slowly turning to her again, I look her over suspiciously, tucking the packet of noodles in the crook of my arm. "Like what?"

"Ever wondered why Baekhyun is notorious for getting around?" She looks me over for a moment, amusement twitching at her annoyingly red-painted lips, "Oops, I mean was sorry."

"Can you hurry the fuck up?" I snap with narrowed eyes, already done with her bullshit.

She looks at me for a long moment, the smirk melting off her face entirely. "Baekhyun has a lot of skeletons in his closet. And you know," She chuckles, shooting me a fake pitying look, "It's entertaining, seeing which one will jump out at you next."

She's walking away before I can respond, the stinging scent of her perfume and the annoying clink of her heels left in her wake along with my disturbing thoughts. What does she mean by skeletons?.. And how does she know that… He—

"Riley."

I snap out of it, turning around with wide eyes and my heart in my throat, "Oh! Grandma." I exclaim, jumping back with a hand over my heart, sighing shakily in relief. "It's just you."

"You okay?" Her brows are furrowed, concern shimmering in her blue eyes.

"Y-Yeah," I mumble, rubbing the back of my neck. Growing more uncomfortable the longer we stand in the middle of this damn store. "Just spaced out for a second."

She looks at me for a moment, pushing the cart towards the cash register. "Come, let's get you back home."

"Hopefully it's still in one piece..." I mutter, heart pounding furiously in my ears.

"I'm sure it is." She chuckles, sending me a reassuring smile. "I'm sure Baekhyun's missing you too."

Is he? The thought comes so suddenly, I freeze. Do I… Am I doubting him now?

Has a lot of skeletons in his closet...

I shake it off or at least try to on the journey home. But not even Baekhyun's warm smile and open arms can lift the sinking feeling weighing on my heart.

Dinner goes by in the blink of an eye along with a popular comedy movie we decide to watch together. The clever jokes and hilarious scenes distract my overthinking mind for a while. Enough for me to find peace in Baekhyun's embrace despite my growing anxiety and the obvious giggles coming from Grandma on the other couch across the room.

"Thanks for having us." I put on a smile for Mom as they send us off at the door, one she can easily see through with a frown, but that's okay. It's enough to fool Baekhyun while he receives a fist bump from her and a tight hug from Grandma. Their own unique ways of showing approval before turning to pull me into a three-way hug. I almost don't want to leave their loving hold, or this house I call home. Taking a year off of school was a good idea, but… is dating Baekhyun?

I can feel the negative energy coming off of me in waves, fuck, time to go.

Our walk to the car is quiet compared to the chaos going on in my head; warm fingertips brushing against chilly palms. I'm so lost in thought, the next time I look up we are on the highway again. An endless stream of vehicles traveling alongside us. The sunset has a reddish tint tonight, giant fluffy clouds attempting to hide the glowing star from view. Almost like the stunning man next to me, so close yet so far like a fading dream, just out of reach. Slipping out of your hands before you can fully grasp it and print it into your memory.

Something you hope for, but can never have.

"Baek…" I can only manage a mere whisper. My heart still hasn't left my throat, anxiously apparently in my restless hands. Every word I utter takes all of my strength to get out.

"Yes, love?" He briefly glances over at me, steering the car with a confident hand. The heart-softening endearment he uses only causes my heart to squeeze even more.

"Can I go home with you?" I can't bring myself to meet his eye, something he seems to pick up on, shifting uneasily in his seat.

"Of course, baby." He tries to soothe, free hand searching for mine. I shove my hands deep in the space between my thighs, keeping my gaze focused on the city lights streaming past the window.

Nothing else but the radio and the fast pace of cars fill the silence. I can just imagine the hurt expression on his handsome face, busying myself with bending shapes into my hair-tie; not brushing rebellious strands of hair out of my face despite how annoying it dangles in my eyes.

All too soon, Baekhyun is parking the Audi in his designated spot, pink lips parting unsurely, "Are you-"

"Inside, please." I utter quietly. Climbing out before he can respond; calmly closing the car door behind me and remembering how to breathe. I think it's about time… I tell him some things. And hope he feels comfortable enough to open up in return. —Or run if shit gets bad, Sehun's number is looking mighty tempting right now.

The walk up to his apartment is a long one. Standing on opposite sides of the elevator and footsteps echoing across vacant halls. He has that blank expression on his face again; lips downturned and brown orbs full of questions. Hopefully, I can answer them…

His apartment comes into view, the sight of the familiar door brings back memories of the last time I was here. The heated words spewed and frustrated feelings shared. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath as Baekhyun unlocks the door. Tentatively stepping into the cold home.

"Do you," He falters when I turn to face him; gulping before continuing, "Do you want to talk now?" The crack of his voice gives him away, looking more like a frightened child than the strong man I've come to know.

"Yes."

"O-Oh." It's a bit funny how much impact that simple word seems to have on him; an even more fearful expression takes place on his features. Sock clad feet shuffling awkwardly in the middle of his living room, voice as quiet as a mouse, "Okay…"

I close my eyes; hands gripping the bottom of my shirt. Here goes nothing. "I had a few boyfriends before you. And...they didn't leave the best impression on me." My eyes flutter back open, meeting his shaky ones. The words come a bit easier after that. "They'd chase after me for months—sometimes the whole school year—and as soon as they got with me, They…" I bite my wobbling lip, inhaling sharply. "They never wanted to be affectionate in public. Never wanted to tell their friends, and…"

Baekhyun steps closer, carefully holding out his hand to me. I place my trembling palm in his, inwardly cursing my nerves.

"All of them ended up cheating on me." Flickering my gaze up to his softened features, I gulp, nodding at the comforting squeeze of his hand before continuing. "I was...treated like an object, for lack of a better word." I chuckle bitterly, haunting memories playing behind my blurry eyes like a tragic film. "A bet of who would sleep with me first among a large group of friends. A group that I had trusted for years."

I shake them off, focusing on our joined hands instead. "Besides that… my last straw was my best friend at the time trying to convince me to go against my mom. 'You should go out more.' 'Tell her you want freedom'..." I scoff, laughing a little. "What an asshole. Acting as if he wasn't in on the dare as well. My mom has kept me out of more trouble than you would ever know. But to have my own best friend bad mouth her to my face and then say 'Well, you knew I was a jerk.' When I tried opening up to him about it…" Meeting his eyes, my heart aches a bit at the odd look on his face. He nearly looks in pain. "If it wasn't for Sehun, I would have been okay, but I wouldn't have been...you know." I shrug, laughing weakly, "More than a party animal if you know what I mean."

Baekhyun's brown orbs glisten as he pulls me closer to his chest. Strong arms wrapping me in his protective embrace, yet all I can think about is…

He didn't say a word.

Originally posted by exo-stentialism

What is even left for me to do at this point? I… feel as if I have been fair. I've given him a whole month to say something. Anything. And yet here we are, continuing with our daily lives as if there aren't unanswered questions weighing on our hearts—unless… D-Does Baekhyun even care? Is he really just going to sweep this under the rug?

…

Okay.

Okay, if this is what he wants, it's what he gets, right? Mr. Big shot CEO, holding onto his own vulnerability through thick and thin. I thought we had moved past keeping things from each other in our long talk all those months ago, but apparently… That isn't the case.

So okay. Let's pretend as if he doesn't get jealous over every man in my life and I don't feel insecure by just looking at the dresses that were once my favorite now hung up in the back of my closet. Because I love him—because I don't want us to fight. Am I just dating myself now? Is that what this is? Guess I better enjoy this ride before it crashes and burns, huh. Peachy. Mother fucking peachy! But hey, there is no peach like the cute curves of his cheeks or stars like the ones ever-present in his mocha eyes.

Fuck you, Byun Baekhyun. In more ways than one. But just your luck that I am a woman of many talents, hmm?

I don't need some tight-fitting dress or painfully high heels to grab his attention. No, the way I carry myself out on the dance floor like no one's business is more than enough to lure him close. As long as these hips don't lie, he's mine. And at the end of the day, if he decides that all the attention I give—all the unconditional love I fucking shower him with—isn't enough, then fuck him. What he could consider walking away, I take it as a favor. But no other fucking woman in their right mind would put up with his shit as I do, but then again… Who 'in her right mind' fell in love with the notorious, multi-millionaire playboy studying off-campus…

"Are you sure you want to go clubbing tonight?" Baekhyun's voice is soft enough, green orbs eyeing me carefully. Funny how he is asking this as if he didn't already have plans to go out tonight. Dressed casually in black with a subtle, middle part of his freshly dyed silver hair. When did he even get those contacts? It's funny how much of someone's life you can miss in a few weeks of little to no dates.

"Yes, baby," I purr, smoothing out my lip gloss in the reflection of my hand-held mirror. Making sure not a strand of hair is out of place. There's nothing like pairing my soft, blue button-down denim shirt with black shorts, and my hair parted the right. A few spritz of hair-spray doing a great job of keeping it durable yet mobile. Perfect for my plans for the night.

Baekhyun looks over at me from the driver's seat, adam's apple bobbing in his throat before he steps out into the cool night. Meeting me on the sidewalk. We walk into the club hand and hand, the booming bass of music pumping adrenaline in my veins.

"Do you want a drink?" His honey-smooth voice is nearly drowned out by the loud atmosphere, pinks lips brushing the shell of my ear. I simply nod, yelling, "The usual!" To his back as he gravitates to the bar. The sight of grinding bodies brings a smirk to my lips, hidden behind the glass Baekhyun hands me minutes later.

"Come," He murmurs, leading me over to an empty booth. Sitting down and pulling me into his lap. I slowly move along with his urging hands on my waist, savoring my drink. Relaxing against him with an appreciative hum, curiously watching him sip at his glass. The reddish concoction looks similar to my own.

It's rare that I take the time to observe the scene of drunken bodies dancing under the neon disco lights without the urgency to join them, but tonight is a special occasion. And with that comes uttermost care. Running my hand through Baekhyun's hair and pushing my ass against him while leaning forward to set my drink on the table.

"Want to dance?" I inquire, already finding the answer within his droopy brown eyes. The lazy way his slender fingers card through his silver hair enough of an indicator.

"No thank you, baby." He mumbles, dropping a lingering kiss to that sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder. I fight the urge to shiver under his touch, inwardly praising my self-restraint; shortly moving off of him to venture out into my home away from home—the dance floor. A carefree atmosphere after my own heart. The beginning of a familiar Latino song captures my attention.

¿Cómo te llamas, baby?

A little mezcal got me feelin' spicy

I know that we don't speak the same language

But I'm gonna let my body talk for me (Talk for me)

Raising my hands while swaying my hips side to side, I let the music take control. Spinning around to face Baekhyun with a cheeky nod, running my hands through my hair.

Hola, me llamo Katy

A little mezcal got me feelin' naughty (Let's go)

I know that we don't speak the same language (Woo)

So I'm gonna let my body talk for me (Talk for me)

I take my time strolling through the crowded dance floor as catchy Spanish lyrics ring through the air, glancing over at him every now and then.

Dress up with my girls, on the hunt tonight

Got a feelin' I'ma catch a wild one

I mouth along to the words, cooly dusting off my shoulders as I move around, trying to entice Baekhyun to come over with every sway of my hips. "And I know that I'm not typically your type. But you never had this kind of stimulation"

Trying to find a dance partner is proving to be difficult, I seek out eye contact with someone. Anyone. But everyone seems to lack rhythm tonight. Too many out of tempo movements and whiskey painted breaths. I push through to locate Baekhyun again, meeting his dark brown orbs from across the room.

Con calma

I see you're lovin' the way I work the floor now

I got the poom-poom, boy

You could be my Puerto Rican dream, and I'll be your California gurl now

I got the poom-poom, boy

Fuck it. I'll dance by my damn self. No one is up to par with my standards except the stubborn man seated across the room who's having way too much fun watching me struggle. But it's alright. I got something for his smug ass.

Con calma, yo quiero ver como ella lo menea (Con calma)

Mueve ese poom-poom, girl (Girl)

Es un asesina, cuando baila quiere que to' el mundo la vea

I like your poom-poom, girl

I pop open three buttons of my shirt, taking a few steps back towards the center of the dancefloor. Just far away enough to be partially hidden from view. Baekhyun leans forward, taking a hard swig of his drink. Fingertips playing with his bottom lip.

Come with a nice young lady (Let's go)

Intelligent, yes, she gentle and irie (¡Fuego!)

Everywhere me go me never lef' her at all-ie (¡Dile! ¡Ja!)

Yes-a Daddy Snow me are the roam dance man-a (Ay, Papi!) (Snow)

Once again raising my hands above my head while swaying my hips fluidly like a hypnotized python to a tamer, I run my hands down my body in time with the beat; eyes still locked on his. The clench of his jaw and tightening of his grip on the glass in his hand curling a knowing smirk on my lips.

Roam between-a dancin' in-a in-a nation-a (Prr-prr-prr)

You never know say daddy me Snow me are the boom shakata

I strut around the dance floor with attitude, flicking my hair while beckoning him over with my eyes. Baekhyun hastily sets his empty glass on the table, swiftly making his way over to me.

Con calma, yo quiero ver como ella lo menea (Menea)

Mueve ese poom-poom, girl (¡Woo! Girl)

Es un asesina, cuando baila quiere que to' el mundo la vea (Oh, yeah)

I like your poom-poom, girl

He meets me move for move, gripping my hips. Firm chest pressed to my back and erection prominent every time our bodies brush against each other. My laugh is swallowed up by the rest of the song.

Con calma

I see you're lovin' the way I work the floor now

I got the poom-poom, boy

You could be my Puerto Rican dream, and I'll be your California gurl now

I got the poom-poom, boy

Baekhyun spins me to face him before the song even fades into the next. Gathering me to his chest in a searing kiss.

We take a cab back to his apartment; the Audi was taken under Jongdae's and Chanyeol's care for the remainder of the evening. The travel takes much longer than usual with Baekhyun insisting to stop at every hidden corner. Endless kisses and impatient hands.

"B-Baek," I bite my lip, cheeks heating up under his lustful stare.

"Tell me how you want it," He mutters, ripping off his shirt before caging me to the bed, "Tell me how you need it."

I want to—boy do I want to. Every part of me is screaming for me to do it, but…

My palms slide up his back, getting a good grip before switching our positions, pressing him against the messy sheets instead. I have other plans.

Baekhyun looks up at me, a little smirk on his lips that fuels my determination to do everything in my power to wipe it off. I take my time pulling down his jeans, eyes locked on his dark ones while brushing my lips over his newly exposed skin. Chuckling at the goosebumps left in my wake. "Someone is excited," I murmur, tucking my fingers under the waistband of his boxers; running the tip of my tongue up the length of his clothed cock.

"Riley..." He breathes, pupils blown, desire twitching under my touch.

Deciding to put him out of his misery, I tug down the thin fabric to set him free, gasping when I'm nearly smacked in the face when his cock springs to attention. This is the first time I'm seeing him up close, and damn this man for being stunning all over. Even his cock is pretty with its flushed red tip and prominent vein running up the side. Drops of precum sliding down his shaft quickly collected by my eager tongue.

"Fuck." He hisses, tangling a hand in my hair as I take him into my mouth, being mindful of my teeth. "Baby."

I hum, something he seems to appreciate as more of his precum drips onto my tongue. His thighs tense up under my hands as I bob my head, gradually working him into my throat.

"B-Baby," His voice wavers, lips shaking when I glance up at him. He thrusts further into my mouth the second we make eye contact, causing me to choke, pulling a whiny noise from him that I've never quite heard before.

I keep up a steady pace, wrapping a hand around his base to massage his balls while moving to swirl my tongue around the head. His hips buck once again, grip tightening on my hair, a gruntle moan falling from his kiss-swollen lips.

After a while, he tugs on my hair again, rougher than before. I pull off of pulsing cock, looking at him with wide eyes as he urges me back up his body, "Wha-"

His lips smash to mine, hands roughly pulling at the rest of my clothes. "Let me see you," He murmurs, lips brushing over the sensitive spot on my neck. I slip off my shirt without hesitation, assisting him in taking off my shorts; pushing them off the side of the bed. He takes a brief pause, looking me over as my heart hammers in my chest, cheeks warming when his eyes meet mine once again. "Beautiful." His breath fans over my breasts, slender fingers tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, "Baby?"

"Hmm?" I tilt my head to give him better access, whimpering at the way his teeth graze my nipples.

"Sit on my face," He murmurs, hands urging me forward before I can even react.

"W-/What?/" I look at him, wide-eyed and thighs clenched around his waist, feeling my arousal pool in my underwear.

Baekhyun licks his lips, smirking at the way I stare, squirming above him. His large hands gently squeeze my waist, "Do you trust me?"

Gazing into his earnest yet lust-filled eyes, I nod, gulping. "Y-Yes."

"Come here," He murmurs, helping me slip off my lace panties.

I slowly climb further up his body, feeling immensely aroused yet a bit apprehensive as he helps me forward; shaking a little when my thighs rest over his shoulders. Having yet to find a stable position when his hands flex around my hips, warm wet tongue swiping between my folds.

I jerk away with a squeak, glaring weakly down at his chuckling form, "Baek!"

"Hmm?" His tongue brushes against me again, teeth tugging at my hypersensitive folds as I let out a soft moan. "You were saying, baby?"

My eyes don't stray far from his, heart and pussy pulsing in sync at the way he watches me crumble under his touch. Strong hands holding me steady as my breathing shortens; panting for air at his tortuous circles around where I need him the most.

"...Please," I mumble.

"Hmm?" He obnoxiously smacks his lips against my wet core, causing heat to rise onto my already flushed cheeks. Those brown orbs of his twinkling mischievously, "What was that, baby?"

I curse under my breath, hastily tangling my fingers in his hair, "You really are something-"

He gasps, looking up at me with wide eyes when I yank his head back, bending over to stare him down.

"What's the matter, baby? Hmm?" I muse a smirk curling at my lips. The shocked expression on his handsome face boosts my confidence. "You're not afraid I'll show you up in giving oral, are you?"

Baekhyun's eyes narrow, a switch seeming to flip in him before he's pulling me down to his open mouth. My gasp interrupted by his own moan, pink lips wrapped tight around my aching clit. "F-Fu—aah," I whimper, thighs shaking from the direct stimulation.

He chuckles, pulling back to lick his lips. "What's wrong, my love?" His warm breath fanning over my core makes my legs tremble more, whimpering as he tightens his grip. "Coming already?"

"N-" My eyes roll back as his tongue slides inside of me and fucking curls towards my sweet spot, damn near making me shatter around him right there and then. "No." I grit out between clenched teeth, bucking at the way his nose rubs against my sensitive clit.

"Mmm you're so wet," He groans, triggering my own moan when his teeth graze my clit. "Making a mess all over me. Do you like sitting on my face, baby?"

"Baekhyun…" I can hardly speak at this point, slowly grinding myself against his mouth, feeling breathless with every flick of his tongue that touches my quivering core.

"Fuck." His sudden grunt has me opening my eyes, looking over my shoulder at him stroking himself. The cute mole on his thumb is a complete contrast to the leaking cock in his palm. "I can feel you throbbing…"

My orgasm sneaks up on me before I realize it; thighs quaking and back arching so high Baekhyun is quick to steady me, continuing to pull me along his stiffened tongue as I cry out his name.

"Fu—ha," I tighten my grip on his hair, trying to get my shaky limbs to cooperate enough to lift off of his unrelenting mouth. "Baekhyun, please-"

"Mm-mm," He protests, landing a swift smack on my ass that makes me release a small cry, thighs clenching around his head. "Stay right there."

"B-Baek..." I'm slipping here—literally. My shaky thighs refusing to cooperate.

He takes a few moments to notice, lifting me off of his face before I feel a brief breeze, finding my back against the silk sheets. "You're perfect," He breathes, making me blush, gulping at his hands running up my trembling inner thighs. I hold myself up on my elbows, watching him press kisses up the length of my body.

"Baby," He looks at me with those dark eyes, sliding a hand down my abdomen, "lay back."

My heart is promptly set into overdrive. I do as told, relaxing against the pillows only to buck my hips with a gasp when he slips a finger into my core.

"Soaking wet for me," He murmurs sucking on a new spot on my neck, sliding another finger in with ease.

All I know is his name at this point, calling for him between hoarse whimpers and breathless gasps; feeling that knot forming in my stomach again as his fingers brush over my sweet spot. I reach down to wrap my hand around his wrist, clenching around his digits as he speeds up, obscene noises of my own desire sounding out amongst our shaky moans and heavy breaths.

"Look at you," He muses, watching me squirm under his touch, free hand pressing on my lower stomach to keep me pressed to the bed. I cry out when he hits my sweet spot head-on, "Taking my fingers so well."

"Bae…" My words falter, head thrown back when his thumb joins into the mix along with a third finger, the blissful stretch combined with firm taps on my clit sending me over the edge.

"Fuck." He grunts as I slowly open my eyes, not even realizing I had closed them while he slips his wet fingers between his lips, groaning loudly as I bite my own. He notes the expression on my face, attractively raising a brow while pressing his body back to mine, "I want to drink on your sweet." He murmurs, tone dripping with lust as he leans over to the nightstand.

"N-No." I pant, grabbing his forearm.

Baekhyun pauses, looking at me with wide eyes, brows furrowed in concern. "Do you want to stop, love?"

I shake my head, running my hand over his back as he leans down to me again, littering my jaw with soft kisses. "N-No I just…" I gulp, wrapping my thighs around his waist. "I don't want a condom."

Baekhyun freezes, and for a moment I consider backtracking, but he just cups my face in his hands. "Are you sure?" He looks me over, nibbling on his bottom lip.

"Yeah," Noting the concern still playing on his features, I reach up to brush my thumb over his cheek. "I'm on birth control, idiot."

"What!?" His eyes widen comically as I nod, "Since when?"

"The first time," I mumble, cheeks warming at the memory of our first night together. The deer caught in headlights look on his face makes me giggle, "I love you, but I'm not ready to have a baby with your Byun. Haven't you noticed?" I continue a bit quieter, gesturing to myself, "I got bigger..."

"No," He shakes his head, taking my hands into his own, staring at me with sincerity in his shining eyes. "You're just as beautiful, if not more so." His voice lowers, taking on that sexy lit again while nibbling my earlobe, warm hand soothing rubbing over my waist, "And sexy as hell."

My face damn near bursts into flames. Flustered giggles at his ticklish kisses on that sensitive spot behind my ear morphing into gasps as his cock brushes against my folds.

Baekhyun leans back a bit, taking a hold of himself while sliding his cock around in my arousal, making me whimper every time his head brushes over my clit. He pauses after lining it up with my entrance, looking back up at me from behind damp strands of silver hair sticking to his forehead.

I nod, biting my lip as he slips inside, my head falling back when he pushes into the hilt.

"God." He groans, starting to pull back out.

"W-Wait," I gasp, pressing my hands to his chest. Baekhyun tenses, looking at me with wide eyes. "You okay, love? Shit. Did I hurt you? I'm so-"

"Baek!" I laugh a little, cupping his cheeks so he'll look at me, shaking my head. "No," I murmur, a smile curling at my lips. "I just…" I hesitate, bashful under his attentive eyes. So sweet. "I want to top."

He relaxes with a gulp, strong arms wrapping around me before switching our positions. I carefully straddle him, finding a comfortable position on my knees before lifting up, letting him line his cock up with my entrance. He meets my eyes, smiling softly as if sensing my nerves, large hand lightly squeezing my hip. "I got you, baby."

Releasing a shaky breath, I nod, slowly sliding down onto him, taking pleasure in the way his jaw drops, head of messy silver locks thudding against the pillows. It's a tighter fit with him in this position. It feels so good I'm almost afraid to move at risk of coming again.

Baekhyun's fingers twitch against my hips when I move, tentatively lifting up to the tip before sliding back down again. My slow pace pulling the prettiest of moans from his red lips.

"Baby," He breathes, quickly licking his lips, eyes focused on where we are joined, "Faster."

"I don't know~" I smirk, lightly dragging my nails down his torso to pull a gasp from him, "I think I like seeing you like this."

That shift happens in his eyes again, giving me no time to prepare for his tightened grip and buck of hips, cock hitting a spot that falters my pace, leaving my thighs trembling. "And I like making you cum," He murmurs, smirk of his own on his lips while continuing to thrust into that spot, our bodies coming together with satisfying slaps of ass against his thighs.

"So fucking wet," He groans eyes drifting back to our joined parts, licking the pad of his thumb and bringing it down to rub quick circles over my clit.

"Fuck-" I gasp, trying to stay upright as he quickens the pace. "Baek-"

"Come for me, baby." He mutters in a breathy tone, thrusts tripling in speed until I'm coming hard around him, falling onto his chest in a heap. He slows down to a stop while I recover. Just when I think we are done, he's flipping us back over. "Baek-" I stop, whimpering as he pushes back into the hilt.

"We're not done, baby." He murmurs, lips brushing the shell of my ear. My pussy quivers at the thought of another round.

"I…" My eyes drift over to the glowing red clock sat on top of the nightstand; the timestamp of 5:00 am causing my eyes to widen. "D-Don't you have work in the morn…" I falter, arching my back when he circles his hips, thick cock stretching out my tight walls, "...ing?"

"Baby," He chuckles, tucking a wet strand of hair behind my ear, meeting my eyes, "We can stay up."

"I…" Biting hard on my lip, I press myself into his sneaky fingers lightly rubbing around my clit, just enough to get me soaking the sheets even more below.

"I'll go easy on you." He promises, moving to sit up only to pause, meeting my gaze again, adding softly, "Tell me if it's too much and we'll stop, okay?"

Smiling at him, I nod, accepting his sweet kisses when he leans in with a hum. "Okay."

Baekhyun's smile morphs into a more serious expression, concentrating on slowly moving within my walls to give me time to recover. He pauses when I lift my hips to meet his movements, reaching to place my right leg on his shoulder, the shift of position pulls a loud gasp from my lips. He moans in turn at my vice-like grip around his cock, steadily picking up the pace.

"Fuck, what a naughty girl you are." His grip tightens on my hips, tilting them up to better accommodate his thrusts, "Letting me fuck you raw in our bed."

My heart raced at the use of the word 'our.' A sense of belonging in this house; this room; this bed with him brings me to a dangerous peak. It feels more intense than all the others before and I don't know if I can handle it.

Baekhyun takes notice, holding my hips down to the bed. "Come on, baby." He slides a hand down to hover over my clit, "Come for me, give me one more." A mere brush of him over my sensitive bud and I'm gone, vision going black as a distinct ringing fills my ears.

"Fuck." His loud groans and wandering hands bring me back down to earth, thankfully he's slowed down the pace of his thrusts.

"Shit, you're squeezing me so tight." He says through gritted teeth, grinding against me as my walls don't let up their grip around him. "Mmm. Do you want me to cum inside you?" He breathes heavily, cock throbbing deep within my spasming walls with his slow yet hard pace. "Hmm? Do you baby?"

"Y-Yes!" I can't even recognize myself at this point, meeting his steady thrusts with my shaky movements.

"I know you want it." He grunts, snapping into me so roughly I give a small cry, clutching the bedsheets. "I know you need it..." He falters, pace taking on sloppy thrusts as I feel him harden even more inside of me. "Fuck," His eyes search for my own, the desperation in them makes me clench around him. "God, baby, can I?"

I nod quickly, wrapping my thighs tightly around his waist as he trembles. "Come for me, Baekhyun." I murmur, rubbing my hands down his heaving chest, "Come inside me. Make me yours."

My words seem to trigger him, the brand new feeling of warmth spurting inside of me pulls another loud gasp from my lips and whiny moans from his; his shaky forearms holding him up before his body weight can overwhelm me as I'm filled up to the brim with his cum full of lust and love. I hold him close, rubbing over his back as we catch our breaths.

Baekhyun nuzzles in my neck, letting out a long sigh. "God, you're trying to kill me."

"Me!?" I exclaim incredulously, giggling at his playful kisses peppering my heated skin. "Who's the one pulling four orgasms from my poor body?"

"You loved it," He mumbles, soft smile pressed to my skin.

"I did," I admit without missing a beat, giggling more at the blissed-out expression on his face.

Baekhyun hums, brushing my hair out of my face, a fond look in his sparkly brown eyes that makes my heart squeeze and soar at the same time. "I'll be right back," He mumbles, planting a quick peck on my lips, getting out of bed to head into the bathroom.

Sighing softly, I relax back against the sheets; nose scrunching up at the aftermath of our—cue the blushing—activities dripping down my thighs.

Baekhyun comes back with a towel in hand, gently cleaning me off with the damp material before throwing it into the hamper across the room. Snuggling back in the warmth of my worn-out body. "I love you," He utters, pressing a kiss over my heart.

"I love you too." My reply is instant enough; his satisfied hum evening out into deep breaths. Eyelashes caressing the tops of adorable mochi cheeks.

I point my gaze to the ceiling, feeling the tell-tale sign of tears brimming my eyes. Is this really the beginning of the end?

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3  P(1) P(2) | Part 4 P(1) P(2) | Part 5 P(1) P(2) ✓ | Part 6 P(1)  P(2)

Thank you for reading this long asf chapter. Let me know what you think! Even if it’s with pitchforks lmao. Have a beautiful Sunday.

[gryfon-spanish-werewolf]

Frozen(elsanna)x Prey au Snippet 2

Because I’m insatiable here’s another

(And here’s Part 1, for those who missed it)

Context: This is before containment break, before the events that take place during Prey canon. Anna gets downtime every once in a while between bouts of testing, and this would be an example of time off. Restful and relaxing.... not ;-; This is the early days of Anna’s memory loss, and Elsa’s burgeoning guilt

Similar characters to last time, but three new ones (also in Prey canon): Dr. Igwe, chief neuroscientist assigned to Psychotronics, Head Nurse Goldcrest, and Dr. DeVries, Chief Surgeon, who both work in the Trauma Center

Slight content warning for blood and injury, specifically regarding the eye. No graphic description, but it’s in there

——————— 

There is something here with her.

Anna presses her bare fingers against tempered glass. The translucent substance ripples under her touch, vibrating slightly in purples and reds and yellows before accommodating, and slipping back to it’s sleek, clear form. This glass, this… barrier, has been tested against wrench swings and shotgun blasts and bunker busters - engineered to self-heal and withstand the vacuum of space for decades if necessary. It’s all over Talos I, beautiful and secure. It keeps everyone safe and sound.

But the shape in the dark is already inside.

Or it… wants to be.

Anna strains her eyes, trying to see beyond the billions of stars that pinprick the black, endless cosmos. She ducks her head and puts a hand over her brow, trying to block out the outline of her reflection. She tries not to blink, lest she miss something, some wisp or shift in that massive vastness. There’s a presence. It lurks and hums in her mind, roiling like ink dark waves.

It’s hungry. It’s so hungry.

The effort of looking too hard for too long catches up to Anna. Her eyes hurt. She’s only human.

She blinks.

She blinks and all the stars are teeth and all the teeth are stars and they bare down on her with the weight of the universe.

—

Anna gasps as she bolts upright in bed. It’s dark here too, but warm instead of cold. Not stars but stained wood paneling and soft carpet. Not endless space but walls, a dimmed desk light, and a tangible sense of scale. Anna swallows, breathing harshly in the night, half under the covers of the bed in her sister’s personal quarters. Sweat covers her skin and gooseflesh shivers across her body from head to toe in waves. Anna’s body shakes, trembles, her arms on the verge of collapsing her backwards.

Back to the dark. To the dream.

There is… movement, beside her.

Adrenaline crashes into Anna’s system again as the bed dips. Something moves closer.

It’s… Elsa. Rolling over in her sleep.

Her sister’s arm falls across the space Anna should be. Her fingers splay out, and in the dim light, Anna sees Elsa’s brow furrow slightly, even asleep. She murmurs, and after a moment her eyes open, hazy with fatigue.

“Anna?” She asks into the room, quiet and small. Anna takes a breath and puts a hand out towards Elsa, letting herself be found. Her sister takes it immediately, grip tightening when Anna can’t stop the shaking. “Was it that nightmare again?”

“...Again?”

Elsa tilts her head, slow in her stupor. Anna hears her shift and her free hand comes into view. Her thumb brushes the pads of her fingers and a blue glow emerges, floating gently between them. Elsa’s snow glitters in it’s own aura, illuminating their faces like an incandescent bulb under water. In this wavering light, Elsa searches Anna’s face. “The one about the stars.”

Anna bites her lip. The dream still wraps it’s tendrils around her, brushing against the back of her brain. Surely she would remember a nightmare like that, yet she can’t recall having it before, much less telling Elsa. When Anna was little it was the endless hallways that narrowed and choked her young mind until she burst into tears and ran to their parents’ room - but as she’d gotten older, and moved away, those nightmares had faded into more mundane things, if she dreamed at all.

But the terror of that open night sky in her mind. The one that looks back at her.

No. That is horrifyingly new.

Maybe her mind is playing tricks on her, still mired in the black. She would remember telling Elsa about this later, when she was calm. For now, she simply nods.

Elsa hugs Anna’s arm to her, pulling her down, back into bed. “You never used to have nightmares,” she says softly. “You used to sleep so soundly, here with me.” She combs sweat soaked bangs back, her hands warm against Anna’s chilled skin. “And you used to love the stars.”

Anna exhales, grounding herself with Elsa’s touch. “They’re unsettling.”

“You always thought they watched over us.”

“Now they just watch us.”

Elsa’s hand stops. “They’re just balls of gas, Anna,” she states, though her tone is patient. “Burning millions or billions of miles away. As fascinating as they are, there’s nothing more intelligent about them.”

Anna remembers the universe of  teeth and doesn't answer.

“These tests are taking their toll on you,” Elsa says finally. “Maybe you should stop.”

“I can’t.” Elsa knows this. Anna can’t give up. Won’t. The technology they're bringing into the world, the discoveries made - all of this is for something greater. These neuromods are going to change people’s lives, they just need some fine tuning.

And if more people could do the extraordinary things Elsa could, what more might humanity be capable of?

Anna --powerless, human-- has to try.

Elsa sighs before she replies, cupping Anna’s jaw with both hands and looking into her eyes in the darkness of their room. “I’ll ask Bellamy and Dr. Igwe to slow down, then. Just a little,” she adds before Anna can protest. “You’ll burn out, Anna, and then who will you be helping?”

Anna huffs;  Elsa has a point. But before she can speak a stinging pain lances through her right eye and she flinches. She rubs the spot as Elsa makes a concerned noise. “And I think I’ll email nurse Goldcrest about that. The redness is getting worse.”

Her eye.

It’s been bothering Anna for a while now. At first they thought she was developing an allergy. “An allergy,” she’d laughed with Elsa over coffee in the Lobby, overlooking the incredible, blue and green sphere that was Earth. Close enough to fill any person with awe, but far enough away to cover with one hand. “An allergy, in space!” It was funny.

Then it got worse.

Itchy, irritated, dry, but above all, sore. Painful. It throbbed during her tests and in her sleep, keeping her awake, sometimes for hours. Sweeping past Anna’s stubbornness, Elsa had scheduled a consultation with none other than Dr. DeVries, the head surgeon, but even he had come back with inconclusive results. “Stress might be a factor,” he’d said, “but we’ll need to monitor her to be sure. For now, we’ll put in a request for medicated eye-drops to help with the more common symptoms.”

Those had worked. For a week.

It was strange though. Sometimes Anna would forget the redness was there at all - in fact, sometimes it wasn’t. She’d look in the mirror and her eye would be perfectly fine, and she’d think maybe it was just a passing illness or bad reaction. But other times the pain would spread from her eye to her temple to the base of her skull and just press, like her head was in a vice. Worse than a migraine or a hangover because it squeezed, and left Anna short of attention and breath.

And then one morning she woke up alone, a note from Elsa on the bedside table, wishing her good morning and good luck on a new slew of tests…

...and on the paper fell a single, red blot.

Bellamy barred Anna at the door to Psychotronics and sent her home. Elsa was back from the labs within the hour.

Anna had spent the rest of the day in a blur of check ups and people talking over her, her head buzzing with heat and white noise, her vision speckled with black dots. Goldcrest had prescribed medicine and recommended two weeks off work. Despite the circumstances, and Anna’s state, Elsa had been relieved by that decision.

Now, a few months later, Elsa draws Anna close, pressing a kiss to her temple. She wraps her arms around Anna’s head, pulling her love to her chest, feeling as well as hearing the deep rhythmic breaths of slumber washing over Anna. She’d fallen back asleep fitfully, though it seemed true rest had stolen over her at last. Her hands clutch loosely to Elsa’s nightgown, and her exhales ghost over her sister’s collarbone.

Elsa’s eyes remain open, gaze on the far wall as the clock hands tick the night away.

This time, it was she who cannot sleep.

Trepidation churns in her stomach. She knows Anna would move the Earth, moon, and stars for her if she asked. That Anna has a heart of gold and hope, and a determination to put all of that to use.

Elsa just worries that someone.... or something… is taking advantage of that goodwill.

Not that Elsa suspects any of her co-workers in particular. While they may work in many different fields, everyone aboard Talos I’s goals are the same: the betterment of humanity through their research. These neuromods, with their ability to teach any skill provided they can find someone to model and copy, could change everything. They could give people abilities that they’d only dreamed of before. Elsa looks up at her glowing snow sphere, twinkling as it spins.

Neuromods could even make more people like her.

The thought puts a crease in her brow and she waves her hand, dispelling the magic and drenching the room in darkness once more.

Because the truth is: Elsa hadn’t asked Anna to do this. Anna had volunteered, knowing TranStar wanted what Elsa had, but that the risk of researching on the only person they knew of to have such a gift was too great. Anna, already a talented and intelligent scientist in her own right, had sacrificed her own job for Elsa’s sake, without hesitation.

And it is hurting her.

Elsa’s heart pangs with remorse. She buries her fingers in Anna’s hair and cradles her close. “It’s for the greater good,” she whispers to herself. “It’s for the greater good.”

When Anna had returned from Psychotronics that fateful day, Elsa had found her curled on her side, clutching her head and sweating bullets. Blood in her hand and blood on the sheets.

After the medical review, Anna had slept.

And slept.

And slept.

For two days Elsa could barely rouse Anna long enough to eat or drink, and when she finally recovered it was as though a pall had been cast over her. Grey and listing, muted as though through a screen.

“It’s for the greater good…” Sorrow wells in Elsa’s throat. Anna breathes deep against her and Elsa wishes that her powers were something else. Something to keep Anna here, safe and sound. To keep her... hers.

Anna’s spark had tempered those two days, and Elsa isn’t sure that it fully returned. She fears that it never will. Her sister is chipper and bright, but like a gas stove with a faltering igniter, Anna’s flame is struggling to catch.

“Greater good,” Elsa’s voice breaks, tears tracking down her face to fall on Anna’s head. “It’s for the greater… good…”

Sleep comes for Elsa too, jagged and broken and troubled. She dreams of a star in her sister’s chest.

She dreams of that star going out.

[breanime]

Helpless (Part Five)

Guess who ain’t dead? THIS SERIES! Thank you sooooo much for your patience you guys, I hope this was worth the wait. Also, before I begin, I’d like to give a public thank you to @something-tofightfor​​ for talking me through my anxiety with this fic. Thanks for being a sounding board for me. 

Quick recap (since it’s been a few months): You’re a talented getaway driver for a heist team led by your adopted father, crime lord Joseph Yakavetta. During your last heist, things go wrong, Yakavetta kills one of your crew, then shoots and kills your brother, Ronnie, when he tries to walk away. Heartbroken and now totally alone, you decide to work with Homeland Security to bring Yakavetta down as their witness. But it’s a dangerous gig, so the lead agent of your case, Dinah Madani, hires an outside consultant to work as your security detail: Billy Russo. The thing is, though, that you’ve met him before. A year ago, you and Billy met in a bar and started a steamy affair until one day... he just stopped calling. Now he’s your personal bodyguard, and after spending a few days cooped up in safe houses with him, you can’t resist your attraction to him, and the two of you sleep together. It made for a good distraction for the emotional turmoil you were going through, but now you were stuck with Billy for who knows how long--just the two of you...and a lot of unresolved feelings. 

*banner by @starkrobb​​*

You slept like a rock, no bad dreams—no dreams at all, just a solid night of sleep for the first time in a long time. You blinked, lying on your side, staring at the wall. You were naked, and you knew you didn’t put yourself to bed last night, which meant…

Billy.

Billy must have carried you and tucked you in last night. The thought made your face burn, and you wrapped your arms around yourself. You groaned; just that small bit of movement made you realize just how sore you were. You licked your lips, thinking about the feel of Billy on top of you, inside of you, the way his hips slammed into you… Fuck. The two of you fucked. You sat up, wincing at the delicious ache in your muscles and hips. Billy always left you with sore limbs and fond memories, and when you used to fantasize about those times, you would get a little thrill thinking about it, but now… As you woke up naked and alone, all you could think about was the day he stopped answering your calls.

You rolled onto your stomach, burying your chin in your pillow. It didn’t matter. Billy did you a favor, helping you release some of that tension that came with being a wanted woman. He was doing you a favor by protecting you. He said something before, about taking this assignment (you) for “personal reasons”, but whatever curiosity he had about you, you were sure he was cured of it now. Hell, he did you a favor by falling off the face of the earth a year ago. You were getting too used to him, looking forward to spending time with him, thinking about him when he wasn’t with you—that wasn’t you. You were speed. You were the roar of an engine. You were burning rubber. You didn’t pine. Billy saved you from that. You should be—you were—grateful.

And hell, besides that—who had time to wonder about why Billy stopped calling you a year ago? Your brother was dead. The thought hit you like a bullet—like the bullet that had taken Ronnie down, and you closed your eyes. A new pain, a visceral, scorching pain, went through you like a bolt of lightning. Ronnie. It was like you were hit with his death every time you woke up; you’d have a few seconds of blissful ignorance when you first woke up before you remembered: you were all alone in the world, and you would stay like that.

Billy didn’t know what to do with himself. He’d slept well that night, better than he had in a slew of nights, but when he woke up, he couldn’t turn his mind off. All he could do was think of last night; the feel of you wrapped around him, the sweet sounds you made, the way you said his name… It had been different, this last time, than it’d been before when the two of you were just fooling around. Things seemed… more charged. Billy was pacing, cutting a trail in the floorboards from the kitchen, to the living room, and back. He shouldn’t have done that, but damn, he didn’t regret it, not when he could still taste you on his tongue.

Fuck, he’d missed fucking you.

All this time, all the meaningless hook-ups and one-night stands, they meant nothing to Billy, never have. But you. Man, you stuck in his mind like a fucking bullet in the flesh, unavoidable and final. He thought that this… job… was going to bring him some kind of closure, but instead, he was more involved than ever. He turned, starting his trail again, and thought about the feel of your warm cheek under his lips when he kissed you goodnight, the feel of you in his arms as he carried you up to your bed. He didn’t know why it felt so right, but it did.

And that terrified him.

Billy never needed anybody, the closest things he had to loved ones were Frank and Curtis, and he’d fucked that up. But now… with you? He felt like a fucking junkie, everything on his plate, all the shit he had to do, and all he could think about was how bad he wanted his next fix. He heard movement upstairs and froze. He wondered what you were thinking. You’d asked him to have sex with you because you were bored and getting cabin fever… but he couldn’t help but wonder—hope, even—that maybe you felt that same kind of uncontrollable connection that he did. He ran his hand through his hair, trying to get his heart rate under control before you came down the steps. He felt like shit, like he was in the same league as Homeland, taking advantage of you. But he also knew that wasn’t the case. He didn’t know what it was, but Billy knew he felt…something for you. Genuine feelings of tenderness that he hadn’t even know he was capable of. But now that he knew, he had no idea what the hell to do with those feelings.

He stopped, turning towards the stairs as he heard you coming down. “Hey,” he greeted you, nodding.

“Hey…” You said back.

You were wearing a sweater that Billy wanted to help you out of, and he glanced away, making an effort to control the desire that he was sure was showing in his eyes. “You okay?” He asked, half because he needed something to say, and half because he was genuinely curious.

“Mm hmm,” you said, walking past him and into the kitchen, “You hungry?”

Billy put his hands in his pockets, watching as you started gathering pots and pans and placing them on the stove. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

“Eggs? Pancakes?” You asked, going to the fridge.

“Kinda late for breakfast.”

You stopped and glanced up at the clock. It was well after 1 pm. “Oh.” You stopped. “Lunch then?”

“Sure,” he agreed, taking a seat at the table. He watched you, frowning as you moved about the kitchen. You were avoiding making eye contact with him, and he didn’t like it. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” you answered, drizzling oil onto a pan, “I’m good.”

“You’re acting kind of jumpy,” Billy went on.

“I said I was fine.”

“Is this because we had sex?” He asked, casually blunt.

You stopped, hand on the handle of the pan. A moment passed; you didn’t move, and neither did Billy. Finally, you turned to face him. “Why’d you stop calling?” You asked.

Now Billy froze. “What?”

You put your hand on your hip. “Before. Last year. Why’d you stop calling me? And why’d you stop answering my calls? You just fell off the face of the earth.”

Billy licked his lips. “I was… I had to leave town,” he answered, “to take care of some business.”

“Mm…” You nodded. “But why didn’t you just call me and tell me that?”

He bristled. This wasn’t how he imagined the morning after to go. “What does it matter?” He asked back. “It’s in the past.”

That was the wrong thing to say. Billy watched your walls go up, and he wondered if this was what people felt when he blocked himself off to them—the surprise and uncertainty and… hurt? Shit.

“You’re right,” you said, turning around again, “it doesn’t matter. Forget I asked.”

Shit. Billy stood up, unsure of what to say or do. “Y/N—”

“—It’s fine,” you said, your back still turned to him.

“Hey,” Billy put a hand on your shoulder, making you turn, “I don’t… That wasn’t…” He rolled his neck, trying to find what he wanted to say. “…Hold on.” The look in your eyes; closed off and guarded, man… You should never look like that, especially when you were with him. You opened your mouth, and Billy knew he couldn’t stand to hear another “it’s fine”, so he stopped you from speaking—

—by kissing you.

You melted into his touch easily, and Billy picked you up and set you down on the table, his mouth never leaving yours. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist, groaning into the kiss when his hands gripped your ass, bringing you even closer. He pulled back suddenly, his dark eyes wide and unblinking, and your breath caught in your throat as you stared back at him.

“I—” you began.

“Be quiet,” he growled out, head turning to look behind him, “someone’s outside.”

“What?” You whispered, hopping off of the table, heart pounding—or at least, pounding for a different reason now.

Billy reached into the waistband of his pants and pulled out a gun that you had no idea he’d been wearing. “You remember the code?” He asked you, eyes still glaring off into the distance, seeing and hearing things that were lost to you.

You nodded. “Uh, yeah… 3-7-2…5-6?”

“3-7-2-6-5,” he said, taking your wrist and pulling you to the corner of the kitchen—away, you realized, from all of the windows and doors, “Stay here.” He took a step forward, but stopped when his phone rang. He groaned, and you watched the tension bleed out of his shoulders. “Madani,” he said around a weary sigh, “that you out there?”

You sighed, too. Great. Madani was here, which probably meant… Well, you didn’t know what it meant—it could mean Homeland cut the funding for your personal security and you were fucked, or it could mean they arrested Joe and you’d have to testified—and were fucked—or maybe it meant you could actually go into real Witness Protection and would have to say goodbye to Billy and…were fucked.

“Why?” He asked, heading towards the door. “Of course she’s here, where else would she be?” He opened the door and hung up the phone, frowning down at Madani. “This is not procedure,” he said as a greeting.

“This location’s been compromised,” Madani said, marching into the room, “You can’t stay here.”

“What?” You and Billy asked at the same time. Your heart was racing yet again, and suddenly the room seemed much too small.

“That’s impossible,” Billy said.

“There’s been…” Madani’s eyes darted from you, to Billy, and back again. “…Yakavetta’s influence has reached Homeland. Someone has been bugging my office, and they hacked my accounts, and…” She took a breath. “Stein and I found the bug,” she finished, “but it’s not safe for you to be here anymore, I… I’m sorry.”

“Fucking Homeland…” Billy muttered, stalking upstairs. “Don’t let her out of your sight!” He called down.

You pointed your thumb over at Madani. “He talkin’ to you or me?” You asked.

“I really am sorry, Y/N,” Madani said around a sigh, “I thought… I should have been more careful… I knew there were cops and agents on the take, but I never thought…” She shook her head. “This goes deeper than I thought it did; Yakavetta has reach in places I never anticipated. We have to rethink our strategy here.” She took a step towards you. “Russo will keep you safe, Y/N, and I’ll make sure this never happens again. I never meant to—”

“—What?” Billy asked, coming back down with two bags slung over his shoulder. “You never meant to dangle her out in front of Yakavetta like a carrot? Or you did, but you just didn’t mean for his guys to be that quick on the draw and track us down?”

“I miss calculated,” Madani’s jaw was clenched, “It could have happened to anyone, Russo.”

“Right,” he rolled his eyes, “I need five minutes to clear this place out,” he turned to you, “I already got your stuff,” he informed you, “I need you to eat something real quick, then we’re heading out.”

“Where are we going?” You asked as he stalked off.

His answer came from the next room: “Away.”

“Hey,” Madani took hold of your arm and pulled you close, “listen, I know my office probably doesn’t look very good to you right now—”

“—I mean, I’d be lying if I said I was impressed,” you drawled.

“—But Russo…” She leaned in. “He’s the best, I’ll admit, but he’s… He isn’t…” She sighed. “Just don’t… Don’t fall for the charm,” she warned, voice low, “He’s good looking and competent, and I know that can be…”

Irresistible.

“…Attractive,” she went on, “but he’s not your knight in shining armor, so just… Just don’t fall for it, alright?”

You stepped back. What the hell? “So who, exactly, is my knight in shining armor? Homeland Security, whose home isn’t even secure?” You asked, crossing your arms. “No offense, but I’ll take my chances with Billy.” With that, you turned and went to the stove, following Billy’s instructions to eat before it was time to go. You sighed; you could still feel his lips on yours…

...You could still feel Ronnie’s cold body in your arms.

About five minutes later, Billy was packing you into the car and muttering some orders and specifics to Madani.

“Is this going to mess up your business?” You asked as Billy drove, trying to distract yourself from the ache that came with being in a car but not being behind the wheel. “The whole safehouse being compromised thing?”

“Nah,” he answered, “This shit is on Homeland, not Anvil. And even with it being compromised, we could have stayed there if we had enough firepower, but…” He shrugged one-shoulder, and the action paired with the sight of Billy Russo behind the wheel (driving with one hand), made you ache for a completely different reason. “This operation works best on stealth…” He glanced over at you. “We should talk about what happened in the kitchen.”

“With Madani?”

Billy raised an eyebrow. “You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

You sighed, sinking down into your seat. “So you’re a talker all of a sudden, Russo?”

He chuckled. “I guess so…” He glanced over at you. “Look, I know we kind of crossed a line last night…”

“Kind of?” You questioned, tilting your head to the side.

“…and this morning,” he went on, “But I’m gonna be honest with you… I just…” He took a breath. “You took me by surprise.”

You smirked. “I tend to do that.”

“No,” he shook his head, “I mean in general. When you came into my life, I was… I wasn’t looking for anything special, wasn’t looking to get attached but…” He looked like he was swallowing nails. “I think I did.”

“You think?”

He glanced over at you, his dark eyes serious. “I did,” he amended, “I know I did. And I know it isn’t the same for you—”

“—How do you know that?” You asked. “How would you ever have known what it was like for me when you just abandoned me?” You sat up, twisting in your seat so that you could face him. You felt your chest tightened, and it was only in that moment that you realized just how hurt you’d been from Billy disappearing on you like that. “It’s not like—not like I wanted anything from you,” you went on, “We were just hooking up, and I know you had no obligation to me, and that’s how we both wanted it, but…” You sat back again, deflating. “I dunno, man… It was just shitty.”

Billy sighed. “Yeah, I know. It… It wasn’t my intention, to just ghost you like that, but that’s what ended up happening, and… You didn’t deserve that.” His hand flexed on the wheel, and you wondered if he was going to reach out and touch you, but he didn’t. “And you don’t deserve this—what Homeland’s doing to you.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “They’re the least of my problems.”

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” Billy assured you, “I’ll protect you.”

You bit your lip, silently reminding yourself why Billy was even here in the first place—this was a job to him. You were a job to him. You turned, staring out the window. Everything was moving so fast, the fields and road and clouds, and that was the way you liked it. Speed had always been your primary setting, and you felt safe and secure behind the wheel. Your grip around yourself tightened. It’d been a long time since you’d felt that way. Though, truth be told, you’d gotten a small fix last night with Billy—fleeting as it was. In order to distract yourself, you tried to focus in on the sound of the engine and the low whipping of wind hitting the outside of the car. But there was another sound—a very familiar sound—that was building as you listened on. You perked up, and you could feel Billy’s eyes on you. “You hear that?” You asked.

“Hear what?”

“That,” you answered, sitting up now, “the sound of a souped-up engine!”

“Shit,” Billy’s eyes were on the rearview mirror now, and he put both hands on the wheel, “We’re being tailed.”

You turned, and sure enough, there were three black cars coming in fast. Your mouth watered at the sight and sound of them. “Homeland?”

“Not a chance,” Billy said, “Here,” he reached in his pocket and handed you his phone in a surprisingly intimate gesture, “text Madani and tell her we’re being followed.”

You did as you were told, turning to see the cars getting closer with each passing second. “We gotta lose them.”

“I know,” Billy said between clenched teeth, “sit back…”

“I can do it,” you offered, “I can drive—”

“—No.”

You frowned. “Why not? I know what I’m doing, I can—”

Your train of thought was interrupted by the shattering of glass, and Billy reached over and pushed you down, covering you with his upper body and arms. You heard a pop and realized they were shooting at you. You covered your head with your arms.

“Stay down!” Billy called out, taking out a gun and pointing it out the window, letting off a round of shots. The car swerved as he aimed, and he grabbed the wheel with his free hand, trying to keep control of the car. “Shit!”

There were more shots, and you flinched, brushing the broken glass out of your hair before looking back up at Billy. He had shards of glass sticking out of his arm—the one covering you and grasping the wheel—and he was trying to shot back, but he was having a hard time doing that while driving.

“Let me help,” you said, reaching over and grabbing the wheel.

“I don’t—”

“—We don’t have time to argue,” you interrupted, “You shot; I’ll drive!”

“Shit,” he said again, “Fine.” Billy pulled you into his lap, and you grabbed the wheel. “Keep heading straight,” he said as he turned, another gun suddenly in his hand, “then turn down the sideroad.”

“Yeah,” you grinned, foot over Billy’s on the accelerator, “Got it.” Fuck—it felt amazing being behind the wheel again. You turned, grin widening as the third car crashed into the bushes when it tried to follow you. Billy was shooting freely now, and you could tell he’d hit his mark a few times, because the other two cars were lagging behind now, trying to avoid getting shot. You eased up on the gas a bit, so that Billy could take his next shot, and he did—hitting the driver of the second car. You watched as the car veered off into the side of the road, leaving one left.

“Can you lead this guy under that bridge?” Billy asked. He had ducked back into the car to reload, and he pointed ahead with his chin. There was a low bridge a few miles ahead.

You nodded. “I’m on it.”

You moved the car expertly—slightly impressed with the strength of it—and slowed down just enough for the other car to think he had you before speeding up again. Billy was shooting at will, but you could tell that he was purposefully missing the driver; only a true marksman could hit the kind of deliberate targets that he was hitting.

“I need to get a look at the driver,” Billy said, twisting underneath you as he shot towards the other car, “Can you…?”

“I gotcha,” you said. You hit turned the wheel, grinning as the smell of rubber wafted through the air, and circled the car that had been following you. Expertly, you maneuvered your car so that it was now on the side of your assailant. “Good enough?” You asked, ducking in case the guy shot.

You needn’t had worried. “Perfect,” Billy grinned, taking his gun and shooting the man right between the eyes, his aim impeccable. You moved the car so it wouldn’t be hit as the last car—now driverless—spun out of control. Billy gripped your waist with his free hand and putting the other over yours on the wheel. “Pull over.”

As soon as you were out of the car, Billy was in front of you, his hands on your face and arms, checking you for injuries. “You okay?” He asked, eyes searching you for any sign of hurt or discomfort.

“I’m great!” You laughed, covering your pounding heart with your hand. “Fuck, I—I needed that!” You turned, watching the clouds of smoke fill the air from the wrecks a few miles away. “Holy shit, did you see that? They were trying to kill us—to kill me!” You ran a hand through your hair. “Fuck, your car drives nice!”

“Hey,” Billy put both hands on either side of your face, stilling you, “Are you okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah,” you breathed out.

“You sure? You’re not hurt?” He asked.

You gave another nod. “I’m fine, I—” You looked down at his arms. “—You’re bleeding.”

“Flesh wounds,” he said, dropping his hands and stepping back, “We need to get out of here.”

“Can I drive?” You asked eagerly.

Billy snorted, going to the trunk of the car and grabbing your bags. “We’re leaving the car.”

“What?”

“We’re setting it on fire, actually,” he said, dropping the bags at your feet. He had a can of gasoline in his other hand.

“What?!”

“Homeland’s been compromised,” he said, crouching down and digging through his bag. He stood up with some kind of bulky radio and a box of matches in his free hand. “That guy back there,” he gestured towards the nearest cloud of smoke, “He works in Madani’s office, I’ve seen him around before. This is more than just a bug; she’s got someone on the take in her own team…”

You watched, speechless, as Billy doused the car in gasoline. He struck a match and tossed it onto the hood, and the two of you stood there and watched it burn.

“So…” You looked at Billy, the shadow of the flames dancing on his handsome face. “…what next?”

“You still got my phone?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You held it out to him, but he didn’t take it.

“I need you to dial the security code, the one from the safehouse, and give the guy who answers this location.” He handed you the radio, which you realized was some kind of military grade GPS. “And here,” he reached down and pulled out a gun from his bag, “just in case,” he said, handing it to you. He turned to walk off.

“Wha—where are you going?” You asked.

Billy must have heard the fear in your voice, because he turned back and put a hand on the side of your face. His eyes were dark and deep, and as you looked into them, you could happily drown. “I’m gonna go back and make sure those guys are all dead,” he said honestly, “It’ll only take a minute. I need you to make this call, and I’ll be right back.”

You nodded. His surety had calmed you. “Yeah, okay…” You looked down at the phone. “The code’s 3-7-2—”

“Frank,” he answered, turning and walking off again, “the code spells Frank.”

*******************************************************************************************

Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think; I actually tried prewriting for this series, and I have the next part written already! Love you guys, and thank you so much for reading! Happy Valentine’s day, my loves!

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[juneiswriting]

Open Heart: Second Year, Chapter 7, Ethan Diamond Scene Rewrite

Author’s note: My first time doing a rewrite! Hope I captured the characters right and hope you enjoy it!

Summary: This is a rewrite of  Open Heart: Second Year, Chapter 7, Ethan diamond scene

Caution: I dislike how PB changed Ethan’s backstory from book 1 to book 2, so I wrote in a way that I felt convincing.

Ethan met Baz in the corridors, and went into the office together, the office door swung open, Ariel and June were chatting, at least right before they went in. Ethan looked at both of them, June was in his seat, which raised his eyebrows, but soon Ethan’s attention turned to Ariel, who didn’t look very well. At the same time, June looked as composed as she always was. He wondered what they were talking about.

‘Who wants donuts?’ Baz hoisted the paper bag in his hand higher, with his playful tone. 

‘There’d better be a glazed in there for me.’ June joked and went to Baz, checking out and picking her donut. Ethan silently rolled his eyes. Why would anyone love those sugar-loaded food-like substances? Were they planning to be at the hospital as a patient soon?

Then Ethan realized Ariel hadn’t moved, did she not also like donuts? He looked at her, she was staring at the ground, her body seemed to be tense. Ethan knew her pretty well, something had to be wrong. He cocked an eyebrow at her, ‘Something on your mind, Ariel?’

‘I’m fine.’ Ariel straightened up, slowly making her way to join Baz and June at the meeting table. Ethan followed her, and he knew she wasn’t fine. But this wasn’t the right place to talk about it, he would figure it out later, when he got a moment with her privately.

‘Alright then, let’s get to work…’ Ethan started the meeting, updating the team on new cases they got and follow ups for their patients. After he divided up assignments among the team, June and Baz headed out, Ariel was packing up the paperwork. 

‘Ariel, I want you to stick with our coma patient. I think you have the best chance at convincing her to do the study.’ Ethan instructed Ariel. 

He had spent the last night thinking through this, getting research funding for the team, and it felt like he was using the patient. He almost got a sleepless night. At least the research could do good to more patients, and getting research funding was not an ethical dilemma in itself. He decided to let Ariel handle this, she was always inspiring and she could see hope and good in every situation. The patient, Stephanie, could use a dose of that.

‘Got it.’ Ariel nodded, her face solemn. 

‘You know you can tell me.’ Ethan leaned forward in his chair, looking Ariel in the eye, he was concerned, it must be something significant to give Ariel this look. Usually, she was a beam of sunshine, while he couldn’t admit it to her, he knew she was, both to him and to the hospital. Ariel hesitated, before she could answer, his phone buzzed, catching both of their attention. Ethan looked at the screen, ‘Incoming Call: Dad’ Ethan ran a hand through his hair in frustration, could there be a worse time for calling? He declined the call, sighed. His attention now turned towards his dad, away from Ariel. 

Ariel looked at him, her eyebrows furrowed, ‘Is everything okay between you and your dad?’ She asked, and Ethan felt he had to answer truthfully. If there was anyone he could lean on with personal issues, she was the one. He remembered his talk with his dad in the coffee shop, and her support, although not needed, still warmed him.

‘He says my mother reached out again, wanting to see me. And he thinks I should.’ He thought of how his father tried to convince him, but Ethan knew nothing good could come out of that. 

‘It’s infuriating. She’s essentially making me hurt my father when I say no. She won’t stop.’ Thinking of his mother made Ethan angry, she should know how she hurt both of them. Yet she wanted to hurt them even more than before.

Ethan remembered how he and dad weren't on talking terms for a while, a pretty long while, after arguing over his mother. All through high school, dad tried to make Ethan stop blaming his mother, making him forgive her, which he couldn’t and wouldn’t. This prolonged argument gave Ethan the strength to stand with his choice of applying to medical school, seeking a life for himself, despite his dad wanting him to study somewhere closer to home and become something else.

It was not long ago before Ethan managed to talk to his dad. After Naveen’s condition, Ethan felt the urge to at least try to reestablish his relationship with his dad. It took him endless sleepless nights, rethinking his choice and contemplating how he would do it. At last he decided that he was mad at his mother, and dad acted as a displacement of his anger, who he shouldn’t be mad at. Yet, when he was trying to have peace with dad, this happened.

‘I wish he would realize that this isn’t genuine, her coming back out of nowhere. She wants something, I know it.’ Instead of anger toward his mother, now Ethan felt bad for dad. The man helplessly believed that woman, who hurt him more than anything. How could he believe her?

‘How can you be sure?’ Ariel asked. Just as Ethan thought, she could always see things from the bright side. But her doing this now upset him, he suppressed his anger, no, he shouldn’t be angry at her. 

‘There’s a rational explanation for everything, Ariel.’ After picking his words carefully, Ethan sighed.

‘If we’re being rational… why not get a little more information?’ Ariel asked.

‘What do you mean?’ Ethan knew she had a tendency to challenge his way of thinking, but even when it came to his personal issues? Maybe he shouldn’t be surprised.

‘Do you know where she’s staying?’

‘My dad mentioned a motel in Southie.’

‘So, let’s check it out. We could tail her, see what she’s really up to.’ Ariel said, with her usual enthusiastic tone and a grin on her face. It was impossible to say no to her. Ethan tried to stifle his lips, but still, a smile slowly spread across his face. He shook his head amused. The power this woman had on him was unbelievable.

‘That’s completely insane. And immature. And possibly immoral. And… not a bad idea.’ He chuckled. The method she suggested, must be the result of her watching too many detective movies, who knew what kids these days were watching. Even more surprising to him, he was onboard with that. 

‘I haven’t seen her in twenty-five years but… more and more, I feel as though I need answers.’ Ethan was confident he was right all along, but he still wanted to know first hand. He wasn’t sure he was ready to find out, but with Ariel on his side, maybe he was. More importantly, stealing some time alone with Ariel would be great. 

A light rain pattered against the windshield as they drove across town. The closer they got to Southie, the more he was nervous. Maybe he should have turned down Ariel and stayed in the hospital instead.

‘You’re sure she’s staying at the Bay Motel? It looks like a drive on the website… and nothing ever looks as good as the website.’ Ariel looked out of the window and gasped.

‘I’m sure. It’s the address she gave dad.’ Ethan shrugged, he also had no idea, he had never been to Southie before. He was usually busy in the hospital, and there wasn’t a reason for him to drive all the way here.

‘My guess is that she’s hoping a renewed relationship with me comes with a side of cash.’ Ethan was irritated, he was close with his instinct, his voice was hard. At the same time, he wished he was wrong. During his time at medical school, he had enough people trying to get close to him, just to get tips on exams. Being at his position now, there were even more people sucking up, so they could get benefit, and within seconds he thought of the big pharmas, and that Delcan Nash, he gritted his teeth. Ariel’s eyes were on him, she swallowed, ‘Maybe she’s just… thrifty.’

Ethan pulled up outside a derelict, two-story motel with rusty metal bannisters and bars over the windows. ‘...And really thrifty.’ Ariel was shocked. Ethan hid his grimace, it wouldn’t be too bad if his hypothesis on his mother’s outreaching was wrong. It’s very rare that he was wrong, but he could admit it when he was, and in this case, he was willing to admit it.

He pulled into a parking spot across the street and turned off the engine with a sigh. ‘This might have been a bad idea. It’s been twenty-five years. I don’t even know if I’ll recognize her.’ He realized that this never occurred to him. Twenty-five years was a long time, a lot could have changed.

‘You’ll recognize her.’ Ariel said with such confidence that he had to at least try believing that. They sat still in silence for a brief moment, before Ariel broke it, ‘Ethan, what happened the day she left?’

‘What little there is to remember. I was eleven, she said she needed to go to the grocery store, and then she just… didn’t come back.’ He said, staring out of the window, leaning on the steering wheel. 

‘Oh, God.’ Ariel looked surprised.

‘We never saw her again. Dad was beside himself. He called the police, thinking something terrible had happened to her.’ A small wryly smile appeared on his face, and he continued, ‘He left me with a babysitter and went out searching for the 48 hours before the police were able to do anything.’ His jaws tight, the thought of his dad running away helplessly in search of that woman pissed him off, even years later. ‘They found her within a day and told Dad he’d been dumped. One laughed. Thought it was funny to see a man cry over his runaway wife.’ He snorted.

Ariel gave his shoulder a squeeze, ‘I’m so sorry Ethan.’ Her voice was calming, Ethan felt himself loosen up slightly, he shook his head, frustrated, ‘Don’t be…The thing that gets me the most isn’t that she left us… It’s that Dad forgave her.’ This was the thing that made him angry all through high school, and caused countless arguments with his dad. 

‘He waited twenty-five years for her to come back, and now she’s here, and it’s not for him. And he still thinks the best of her.’ Ethan winced, he looked at Ariel, searching her eyes for support.

‘I never told him this. That the thing that stung the most back then is that I hated her… and he loved her.’ he paused to take a breath, ‘Why didn’t he ever resent her the way I did?’ He wasn't sure what he expected Ariel to say, but he meant it, he had no idea why dad was so soft, he had even more reasons to be mad at his mother. She was the woman who turned her back to his dad, making him cry for the weeks and years that passed, shattering his heart into pieces.

‘Because it’s not always that easy to fall out of love with someone.’ Ariel said with a soft voice.

Ethan saw a flick of sadness in her eyes, assuming it was for his dad, he retorted, ‘But she left him. She made a fool out of him!’ he snorted, holding his hands into fists.

‘Apparently that doesn’t matter to him.’ Ariel averted his glare and looked at the floor instead.

‘I can’t understand that.’ Ethan sighed, fell back into his seat, shaking his head. This wasn’t logical, for Ethan if something hurt you, it was the only reasonable thing to avoid it, to avoid getting hurt once again. 

‘I don’t think you have to. It’s your dad’s heart. He gets to take as long as he needs to heal, even if that’s forever.’ Ariel said calmly. Ethan wanted to fight back, but he struggled to find the words. Heart, yet again the thing Ethan couldn’t understand. He disliked unpredictable, yet the heart was the thing he couldn’t make a formula out of. He sniffed and looked up through the gentle swipe of the windshield wipers.

‘That’s her!’ He gasped, eyes widened. He caught sight of a woman walking quickly across the motel parking lot. She held a magazine to shield her from the rain as she spoke into a cell phone.

‘Are you sure?’ Ariel looked at the woman and asked.

‘I’m sure’ Ethan gritted his teeth, the rage was coming back to him. After all those years, his memory with his mother slowly faded into whispers, he barely remembered her face. Yet, the moment he saw the woman walking, he knew she was the one, and this was another thing he couldn’t explain.

The woman hurried up the street and disappeared into a store. Ethan sighed and slumped back against his seat. He was so close to an answer he wanted, but part of him didn’t want to know. ‘This was a mistake. We can’t learn anything about her from fifty feet away.’ He was deflated, motioning for the car key, wanting to leave. 

Ariel grabbed his arm, stopping him, ‘So let’s follow her in and do some eavesdropping.’ She was determined, her eyes intense. Ethan was taken aback, ‘I… What if she recognizes me?’ His face fell as a second, unasked question hangs in the air: What if she doesn’t? He had know idea. Seeing how he managed to recognize her in a split second, maybe she would. But what twenty-five years did to a kid was unimaginable, it was equally likely for her not to recognize him. And he didn’t know which way he preferred.

‘Then I’ll go. She’ll have no idea who I am.’ Ariel gave his arm a squeeze, and proceeded to leave the car. ‘Ariel, no, you don’t need to do this for me.’ He tried to stop Ariel, but with the word he said and the tone of his voice, he doubted he would even convince himself.

‘I know. I want to.’ Ariel looked him in the eyes, with a smile, her eyes warm and supportive, and with determination. Before he could say anything, she went out, closing the door behind her. Ethan fell back on his seat.

He didn’t doubt her words. He knew how far she would go for her friends. She had the passion towards people, and she put herself before others. She was always by her side, since the day she came in as an intern. There seemed to be no way he could get away from her, it felt like the inevitable. It took all his restraint to keep himself from her. He cared about her, so much that he couldn’t bear the thought of putting himself in the way of her career. He knew she could be the greatest doctor there had ever been, even surpassing himself. It was his job, his calling to push her where she needed to be. Before that, what he wanted didn’t matter, it would be foolish and selfish for him to allow his emotion take charge.

He was angry with himself, it was his dad and his mother, why couldn’t he figure out what and how to do on his own? Why must he drag Ariel with him? He didn’t want to, but he couldn’t push her away. Deep down, he knew she would find out, like how she found out about Naveen, despite his effort in hiding it from everyone. When she found out, she would still insist to help. The thought of Ariel’s smile calmed him, making him smile at himself. What did he do to deserve her? At least deserve her as a friend?

Ethan seemed to see a figure slip out of the store, he jolted up in his seat, he squinted, looking into the heavy rain. He barely made out the shape of a person. It didn’t look like Ariel, he fell back in his seat, waiting. He found himself breathing quicker, his palms were wet. He started imagining everything that could go wrong with Ariel. He stared at the steering wheel, trying to calm himself. She would be fine… Nothing could go wrong...

Suddenly the car door opened, and Ethan jumped at it. ‘Jesus!’ he gasped, snapping back from his thought.

‘You didn’t see me coming?’ Ariel giggled.

‘I can’t see anything in all this rain.’ He rolled his eyes at her, then he furrowed his eyebrows, ‘How’d it go?

‘Ethan, she made me her unwitting accomplice in shoplifting.’ Ariel looked at the floor sheepishly.

‘Damn her.’ His jaw tightened, he knew it. That woman couldn’t be of any good. He winced, disappointed that he had to call that woman his mother even though he wanted to have  nothing to do with her, since twenty-five years ago. Quickly he recomposed himself, ‘Well. That answers that, then, doesn’t it?’

‘We don’t know she’s only here for your money.’ It was unbelievable to Ethan that Ariel was still trying to make out something good in this situation, he frowned, cutting her off, ‘We know enough. We should get back to the hospital, where there are patients that needed us, where truly important things are’

He turned the engine back on, the headlights cutting twin paths through the rain. The drive started off in silence, Ethan was busy processing what had happened. He wasn’t sure was this what he wanted to know, but it was what it was, he turned to Ariel, while keeping half attention at the road, ‘Thanks for making me do this, Ariel. I think I needed it.’

‘You’re welcome, Ethan.’ Ariel replied with a grin on her face. A grin so warm that it melted his heart and his walls. Before he knew it, he was lacing his fingers tenderly through her hand, a familiar spark in the touch sent him a shiver. They exchanged a smile, and he held her hand tight all the way back to Edenbrook...

Ethan wished he could do something more than holding her hand and thanking her. He wanted to let her know that he really cared about her, more than she could imagine and more than he was comfortable admitting. He also wanted her to know he needed her, but before he ran off the cliff and destroyed her career, he had to stop somewhere safe. 

[pertinax--loculos]

Character Study: Jay (1)

[Quite note for CW -- vague reference to drug use.]

1. Intro My name is Jay Johns, though my parents would probably deny it. Oh no, they’d say, that’s not our boy. Must be another Johns, y’know I hear there’s another family with that name out north.

Don’t get me wrong, they love me to death. That’s their mistake.

People would probably look at my life and go, oh my gosh, where did they go wrong? Or, what happened to him to make him like this? The trouble is, nothing happened. This isn’t a product of trauma or a horrible home life or whatever else. No funny uncles. No ridiculously strict parents making me rebel. No reason.

Just… boredom, I guess.

Technically speaking I suppose it can be traced to an injury I sustained when I was fourteen, but don’t read anything into that. Truth be told I was being a moron, thinking I could balance on a ledge I shouldn’t have been trying to balance on and, surprise surprise, I fell. Nothing insidious about it.

Same can’t be said for the panadeine forte I was prescribed for the broken collarbone, though.

Stuff’s fairly well regulated if you don’t need it, and doctors weren’t particularly keen to prescribe it to a teenager more than once. So I outsourced. Knew a guy who knew a guy, you know how it is. Except turns out the guy on the end was kinda tangled up in some heavier stuff. And at fifteen I didn’t exactly have disposable income.

So I had to do a few odd jobs to get the next fix. But, like, who the fuck cares. No big deal. Flow like mine, didn’t really matter what they asked me to do; it was always get in, do the job, get out.

Y’know talk about, like, a self-fulfilling prophecy? Where you do a thing in order to get the result but the result makes you do the thing again, and so ad infinitum?

Yeah. Given my… aptitude for certain jobs, I suddenly started getting only those. And those morphed into Jobs, capital J, which I didn’t regret so much as want to erase from my memory which was facilitated by, you guessed it, more opioids. And so on and so forth.

Dunno why I decided to get clean – well, that’s a lie, the decision was taken out of my hands, essentially – but I was way too entrenched by then to get out. Knew too much about the operations, the players, the secrets.

Plus, y’know, it was easier. And the pay was almost worth the nightmares.

Almost.

So, yeah. Take the Jay Johns of today and describe him to my parents, and they’d marvel at the coincidence of some amoral gangster having the same name as their beloved golden child. The one who’s off working as an engineer a few hundred clicks south – no, haven’t heard from him lately, but you know how it is, they get to be adults and forget about their dear old parents. And, I mean, I could disabuse them of that notion, sure.

But I don’t wanna break their hearts. They deserve better than that.

They deserve better than me.

2. Family Jay had a very specific memory he wanted to preserve of the last time he’d seen his parents. They’d been so very proud, and through the guilt that threatened to strangle him they’d had an exceptionally pleasant day, culminating with a barbeque in the backyard, warm summer evening heavy with the buzz of dragonflies reminiscent of his very favourite recollections from childhood. If he closed his eyes he could still see his mother’s beaming face as he told her about the job offer; could still see his father’s gruff pride, hidden behind layers of learned reserve but shining through his eyes regardless. He could still taste the tang of lemon in his mother’s specialty cheesecake on his tongue.

Right now all he could taste was blood, and he wondered if that was why it had taken him so long to place the figures wandering past the end of the alley.

Markus had frozen as soon as they’d come into view, his fingers still wrapped around Jay’s wrist, and it took Jay a half-second too long to clap his free hand over his mouth. The sound that escaped was truncated but hellishly loud.

The figures hesitated; the shorter, wider one swivelled towards the alley.

“Did you hear that?”

Her voice was more curious than apprehensive, and Jay was nearly certain being stabbed in the chest would be less painful than hearing that warm, comforting tone juxtaposed with the tiny, pleading whimpers rising in Markus’s throat. The hold around Jay’s wrist tightened and Markus squirmed a little.

Without looking away from the mouth of the alley Jay uncovered Markus’s mouth and instead buried his fingers in his hair, twisting savagely. It elicited another whimper, but at least he stopped moving.

“I didn’t hear anything,” Jay heard his father say, even as the two of them took a couple of steps forward, into the darkness and squalor. “What was it?”

Jay’s jaw was aching – he hadn’t even realised he’d clenched his teeth – and his grip on Markus was white-knuckled, less due to concern the dumb fuck was going to move and more to keep his hands from shaking. His breath was roaring in his ears and there was an uncomfortable scrabbling inside his chest, some sharp-clawed animal desperate to get out.

“It sounded like someone in trouble,” his mother said, alert and worried and good god for once in your life don’t be a fucking good Samaritan.

The only advantage Jay had was the light; he’d chosen to ambush Markus in this alley for a reason, it being one of the few he knew that completely lacked any illumination. It was stupid enough for Markus, a young man experienced with the unsavoury elements of the city, to try to cut through. Surely an older couple wouldn’t risk it. Plus, motionless as he was, Jay was nearly certain that his parents couldn’t make out whether or not there was actually someone down there.

Anxiety was an iron band around his chest. He couldn’t breathe.

His mother stopped.

“It was probably just a cat,” his father said. “I read somewhere that they’ve actually evolved to mimic the cries of human babies. Which, as far as I’m concerned, is just another strike against them.”

His mother chuckled, though she continued to peer into the gloom. “I guess it could’ve been. It just sounded so…”

There was a pause that stretched interminable. Jay twitched the hand knotted in Markus’s hair, a silent warning not to try anything stupid.

“… tormented,” his mother finished finally. Then she shrugged and turned, making her way back to the street. “I must have been imagining things.”

Their voices faded as they walked away, and Jay sucked in a deep breath. It felt like he was choking on it.

“Johns,” Markus gasped, twitching in his grip. “Please. I’m not—I get it, okay? I understand. You don’t have to—”

Jay hauled him up and around, slamming him against the wall of the alley. Markus’s cry of pain was so breathless it was nearly inaudible.

“Unfortunately, Markus,” Jay said, his voice light and even and betraying none of the shame surging so strong inside of him he felt like he was drowning, “My colleagues see it differently.”

“Johns—”

“I like that word. Tormented.” Jay twisted his left hand. He felt the familiar tingle of the Orn between his fingers, and then the just-as-familiar weight of his knife in his palm; Markus’s eyes widened when it shimmered into being in the physical world, a low keen breaking out of his throat. Some tiny part of Jay cringed at the noise, at the fear in his eyes, but he refused to acknowledge it. Instead he just cocked his head a little, letting the detached smirk settle on his lips. “Let’s see just how tormented you can sound.”

3. Friends “It’s not like you have to screw him,” Cassidy said matter-of-factly, crunching another couple of almonds between her teeth. “I’m just asking if you like the guy.”

Jay raised an eyebrow, very purposefully continuing to stare down at the book spread out over his lap. “Keyword being guy, Cass. Who says I even swing that way?”

They were spread out on his bed, ostensibly doing homework, although Cassidy had abandoned that pretence nearly half an hour ago in favour of interrogating Jay on his nonexistent love life. The fact Jay still had his books open was more to provide him with an excuse not to look at her than any real attempt at finishing his math assignment.

Cassidy waved a hand expansively, blowing her fringe out of her eyes. “Jay. There is no need to pretend in here. I know you.”

“Wait,” Jay said, glancing up briefly enough that he hoped she wouldn’t notice the blood he could feel warming his cheeks, “Are you assuming I’m gay because I’m not into you?”

“Well, I mean, that would be a fair assumption, because I’m hot as hell,” Cassidy said, her grin wide enough that Jay could hear it in her voice. “But one, you have never actually said you’re not into me, and two, I never said you were gay. I was simply asking if you liked a guy. Singular.”

“For the record,” Jay said, turning a page in his textbook. He hadn’t actually absorbed anything on the preceding page, but hell if he was gonna give up the ruse now. “I am not into you.”

Cassidy sighed theatrically. “Oh gee, well there go all my hopes and dreams. Whatever will I do now, how will I overcome this devastation.”

It was getting difficult to keep his face straight, but Jay was fairly sure he managed it. “I’m sure you’ll find the strength to carry on.”

“Mayhaps!” Cassidy clapped a hand to her chest and fell backwards on the bed with a wail. “Or perhaps this broken heart will be the end of me!”

“Could you at least die quietly?”

Jay jumped when her hand landed in the centre of the page he was looking at.

“Never,” Cassidy said. “Or at least not until you answer the question.”

“You mean how on earth you will carry on knowing that I’ll never be your boyfriend?” Jay glanced up to throw her a smirk, and Cassidy jabbed a finger at him.

“No, whether or not you like Johnny Davis. Come on, Jay. I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

Jay couldn’t stop himself; this time he jerked his head up to stare at her, feeling horror unfurl across his face. Any hope of hiding his blush was gone, his cheeks flaming as he processed what she was saying. “I’m not—”

Cassidy’s teasing veneer vanished and she scooted close enough to rest a hand on his arm. Jay dropped his eyes. “Relax, darl,” she said softly. “It’s not obvious at all. Like I said, it’s because I know you.” She ducked her head, and Jay let her catch his gaze again. Her face was warm, made even more comforting by the tiny crinkles extending outwards from the corners of her eyes as she smiled; not that Jay would ever tell her that. She’d probably end up in a back alley getting illegal botox if he so much as suggested she had anything remotely resembling wrinkles.

“I’m not trying to be a bitch,” she added.

“No, that just comes to you naturally,” Jay said without thinking.

For a beat Cassidy just stared at him, before she roared with laughter, swatting at his arm. Jay grinned as well, raking his fingers through his hair as he waited for her to calm down.

“Nice one,” Cassidy said eventually, still snickering. “I’ve gotta remember that. Man,” – she swiped her hand across her face – “What was I saying?”

The smile wouldn’t shift from Jay’s face, and he met her eyes as he said, “The answer’s yes. As in yeah, I like Johnny Davis.”

The admission was more than worth the grin that practically split her face in two.

4. Education/Mentors Friday was the Big Day.

Mrs. Phillips had told them all about it, had explained how important it was and how they weren’t allowed to muck about in the waiting area or they would be sent to the principal’s office. Jay thought it was all a bit of a hullabaloo. After all, the Orn was just a fact of life. Why did it need to be measured?

Mum and Dad had told him that he should be very careful when he was taking the Test. But that didn’t make sense either. They’d talked about all sorts of stuff and Jay had stopped listening pretty quickly. After all, Mrs. Phillips had told them that there was no way they could fail the Test. It was just to get an idea of where they were at.

Like with their reading. That was a Test, too. Normally it was done when the rest of the class was working on their handwriting, so they were real quiet. You waited until your name was called, and then you went up to the teacher’s desk – all by yourself, so that the other students couldn’t hear you in case you made a mistake – and you read through the list. It was a very long list, and it started with super basic words like ‘at’ and ‘the’ and then by the time Jay started stumbling he was up to words like ‘pneumonia’ and ‘rendezvous’.

Mrs. Phillips had been very impressed with how good he was at his reading. So why shouldn’t he try to impress these teachers too? Just because he didn’t know them didn’t mean he should pretend.

And it wasn’t like Dwayne’s parents had told him the same thing. Jay knew, because they’d been discussing it for the last forever while they waited for their names to be called.

That was kinda why they were friends, because Cass was in Mr. Allen’s class this year and Dwayne’s last name was Jacobson so he and Jay always got to sit together. And if they were real careful and talked real quiet Mrs. Phillips didn’t seem to notice.

“But, see, like, there’s different, like, levels,” Dwayne said, leaning sideways as he kept one eye on the door their classmates kept disappearing through. “Y’know how I can do different things to most everyone else?”

Jay nodded, as wisely as he could. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“So that’s what this is for. Mum calls it a attitude test, so that they can get an idea of what sorta connection to the Orn you have and then they can teach you the right way to handle it.”

They paused as Gary came back out of the door, and Mrs. Phillips whispered to the man who came with him. Then she nodded and ushered Gary back over to the other side of the room as the man glanced down at a paper and called, “Carrie Harvey?”

Jay watched Carrie disappear through the door and then said, “So your parents didn’t say, like, some people get taken away after the attitude test?”

Dwayne frowned, deep furrows appearing in his forehead. “No. Why would they? They just wanna know what we can do.” He straightened a little, smiling instead of frowning now. “And they reckon that the testers’ll be real impressed with me.”

“Well, yeah,” Jay said, like he was saying well, duh. “You’ve gotta be the best at it out of all of us.”

Which was annoying, really, but Mum and Dad had been very very clear about Jay not showing off. It would get him into trouble, they said, and Mum and Dad were normally right. But this wasn’t showing off, was it? This was just showing the special teachers what he could do.

Carrie came back, Mrs. Phillips whispered to the man, and Carrie took her seat on the other side of the room.

“Dwayne Jacobson,” the man called.

Dwayne sent Jay a nervous sort of smile, and Jay gave him two thumbs up.

Without Dwayne there to talk to the time seemed to drag even more. Or maybe they were actually taking longer to test Dwayne. Jay didn’t want to look at the clock, because every time he did the second hand seemed to freeze into place.

When the door opened this time, the man and a woman stepped out with Dwayne.

Mrs. Phillips hurried up to them, quicker than she had been walking. Jay watched carefully as they talked, trying to look around Mrs. Phillips to see Dwayne’s face, to get an idea of whether he thought he’d done well or not. But try as he might, he couldn’t get a good look.

After a few more seconds of whispering, Mrs. Phillips nodded and stepped back. But instead of ushering Dwayne to the other side of the room, she just nodded at the strange woman, and the strange woman took Dwayne’s hand and led him through the side door.

Jay stared, waiting, waiting for them to come back. Maybe Dwayne had just really needed to go pee. But Mrs. Phillips had walked back to her chair and sat down. She didn’t seem to be waiting for Dwayne to come back.

Jay felt like his chest was about to burst. Heat raced up into his eyes and he tried not to sniffle as he swiped at it. He was not gonna cry. Not in front of everybody.

But he could suddenly hear Mum’s words, real clear.

You’ve gotta be careful, Jay. Promise me, alright? Promise me you’ll be careful.

“Jay Johns,” the man called.

Jay swiped at his eyes one more time, and then pushed himself to his feet. He held his chin up as he walked across the room.

He was gonna be careful. Even if it meant he didn’t show them everything.

He wasn’t gonna give them a reason to take him away.

[saiilorstars]

It Had To Be You

[Story Masterlist]

Pairings: Barry Allen x Original Female Character

Author’s Note: Hello and welcome to my first OC/Flash story! This story will cover the entire first season of the Flash, choosing scenes I deem important in order to tell the story. A note: for this story, I am choosing to omit the WestAllen storyline simply because I prefer not to make a jealous Iris and problematic relationship with the OC. So, in this story Barry just never had a crush on Iris - they are family.

Summary: Her focus has always been to graduate and stabilize her job - no where in there did that include becoming a metahuman. Left with a side Belén fears, she tries to make a life with Star Labs and Barry Allen. Despite the darkness, the secrets and the fear driving she and Barry apart, it never lasts...because in the end: "There can never be another. It had to be you," they say to each other.

Pronunciation of OC: Bell-en. The last syllable has an emphasis so it’s not pronounced like ‘Helen’ would be.

No real warnings for now!

Disclaimer: I only own my OCs Belén Palayta and Nina Clarke.

Belén‘s face claim: Lauren Conrad.

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

Ch. 1: Ready Or Not

2 Months after the Particle Accelerator.

A young man stood in the middle of an abandoned warehouse with hands extended on either side of him. He didn't seem very bothered by the seven people standing across him with guns aimed in his direction.

"You need to give it up," one of the men across moved forwards, intending on being threatening but his hand holding his gun shook.

The young man just smiled. "I'm done being used by you and your group, Harold." He flung a hand to the side and as he did the other man, Harold, was thrown to the side. Harold's body hit a metal machine and was effectively knocked out cold.

"Start shooting!" someone else in the group ordered.

The young man smirked and started flinging his hands to the sides repeatedly, deflecting the incoming bullets. He then started pushing the nearby tables against the group along with chairs and other movable pieces of furniture. In no time he had brought down the group of criminals without so much a sweat.

"Finally," he breathed in knowing this was the beginning of his freedom again. He turned calmly away and started for the office near the entrance of the warehouse. There he sat down at the desk and opened up a laptop. He started searching through the internet to see what he could find on a specific metahuman he had heard the band of criminals repeatedly talk about. He hadn't been allowed near any electronic devices unsupervised so he wasn't too sure about his suspicions.

"There you are," he stopped at a picture of a woman dressed in purple leather. Half of her face was covered in a purple mask but the young man recognized the woman nonetheless. "Sister," he smiled widely. "I'm coming for you."

2 Months Earlier: The Day of the Particle Accelerator.

In Central City Picture News, a young woman anxiously stood in front of a printer that was spewing out papers belonging to her mentor. Her long, caramel-colored hair with ombre-blonde tips bounced as she impatiently waited for the printer to be done.

"Are my papers done?" shouted Linda Park from her desk, tapping her fingers along her desk as she pretended to be heavily annoyed. She was actually very amused as she watched her favorite intern try to collect the papers - she always made the funniest faces!

The young woman whirled around to face Linda, looking frantic. "Just one more second, promise!"

Linda mumbled something under her breath then returned to her work on the computer. Though her eyes did flicker every now and then at the ombre-blonde intern just to see how things were going.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, already," the ombre-blonde chewed on her nail until the printer finished up. She cheered and gathered up the papers then ran for Linda's desk. "Done, ha!" she slammed the papers on the desk.

Linda looked up seeming unimpressed with the woman's blunt slam. "You are so lucky it's me and not Larkin or you'd be fired."

The woman widely smiled at the comment and twirled her fingers around her blonde tips, "Which is why I love you the most. You're cool, Linda."

Linda remained blank for a minute or two before she gave an unprofessional snort and laughed, "You are such a kiss ass, Belén."

The woman, Belén, blushed as she laughed too, "I'm an intern, it's kinda what we do."

"The new ones," Linda corrected her then turned her chair for her computer, "One more year and you'll be a reporter. But look, I've got an assignment for you right now that could win you some points."

Belén tilted her head to the side and squinted her eyes in thought, "Would this assignment by any chance happen to be another paper that you didn't want to write so now you are going to tell me to do it instead? Because of it is, I'd rather go have another battle with the printer."

"Just do me this one okay? It's some paper that's not on sports and I frankly have a date I don't want to cancel on. Here, take a look," Linda motioned for Belén to look at her computer screen where she had a Star Labs page opened up, "We need a paper on the accelerator going off in some hours. There's some grand show tonight and we need something written," she turned her chair to Belén, "Preferably something fantastic if you could."

Belén blinked and quickly looked at Linda, "C'mon, Linda, I don't understand anything about that thing. I want to help but I don't know how."

"Ask your dad," Linda seemed not to care by the blank face she wore, "Or your brother. They're both freaky geniuses. Just do it. I'm letting you do this so that you can prove you have what it takes to become a real journalist. This is your chance, Belén Palayta. Will you take it?"

Belén's eyes flickered to the computer screen then to Linda, clearly indecisive. But in the end, as Linda suspected, Belén ended up nodding in agreement, "Okay, I'll do it."

Linda clapped and stood up from her chair to go retrieve necessary papers for Belén, "It'll be alright, you'll see."

Belén took a deep sigh as she sat down on Linda's chair, getting a closer look at the news on the screen. She knew very well what Star Labs was intending on doing and while she didn't understand a great deal of the purpose, she was curious to see it unfold.

~ 0 ~

Belén pulled the glass door of CC Jitters and stepped inside with an air of nervousness that was etched onto her face so clearly her friend, a barista, noticed with just one look. Iris West finished handing a customer a mug of coffee just as Belén reached the register.

"Alright," the young barista hurried behind the register, "What's the problem, Belén?" it wasn't often her friend had problems and when they did they were truly troubling ones. She'd learned that only a month after meeting Belén in college.

Belén released a sigh of distress as her eyes scanned the menu above them, "I got an important article to do for tonight."

Hearing that news, Iris smiled, "Congratulations," she knew Belén was closer to acquiring a full paying job and if she was being handed important articles it only meant she was one step closer.

"It's on Star Labs' Particle accelerator," Belén finally met Iris' eyes.

"Oh…" Iris' smile faded as she now understood the dilemma Belén was in, "...and your dad…?"

"Doesn't want me to do it," Belén confirmed her suspicions.

"And are you going to listen?"

"Hell no."

Iris nodded with understanding, "So there's more problems?"

"Oh yes," Belén sighed once more, letting her gaze temporarily fall to the counter, "He knows it's my job. I can't listen to him this time."

Iris reached to touch Belén's arm, having that warm, comforting smile on her face, "Hey, you do what you need to do. Besides, maybe if you come by tonight's show we can meet up."

Belén seemed to take that with a good mood, "Really? You're coming too?"

"Mhm, it's an assignment for class. I'm dragging my best friend to help me understand what the hell they're going to say."

Belén chuckled, "I wish I could do the same with Rayan. I don't understand anything of that science stuff."

"Ah, but you're his twin, make him," Iris pointed at her.

"Yeah, I sort of figured out I couldn't make him do everything I wanted," Belén dramatically sighed. "Besides," she got serious again, "even if I asked him, I know he couldn't come. He has some engineering event tonight at his college. He'll be out late."

"Well," Iris considered for a moment, "If worst comes to worst, you can always borrow Barry. He's such a pushover you can definitely get explanations from him."

Belén smiled and rolled her eyes, "That's abuse and I don't think I want to do that to a guy I've never even met. It's a bit rude don't you think?"

Iris feigned a thinking face for a minute or so before shaking her head. "No, not really."

Belén put on on a scolding look on her friend, "You're evil," she pointed, "And I want no part in it."

Iris rolled her eyes and scoffed, "Whatever you say, Belén. But the offer stands. We'll be there at Star Labs tonight as well if you want to meet up."

"See? Now that I can do," Belén nodded happily, something that made Iris laugh. "Now give me an espresso and I can be on my way."

"Sure thing," Iris nodded back and went to prepare her drink. Belén sighed her worried sigh while Iris left. She was still pretty worried over what her father would say when he learned that in order to do the paper she would have to visit Star Labs on the day the Particle Accelerator would go off.

That...would not be an easy discussion.

~ 0 ~

After her shift ended, Iris headed on over to the Central City Police Department, CCPD, to retrieve her best friend, almost brother really, Barry Allen. As she assumed before walking in, he was busy in his forensics work.

"Hey! I am ready to see this atom smasher smashing," she strode into the lab and stopped beside Barry's table, shooting him one of those nice smiles that really just said to hurry the hell up.

Feeling like he was going to get scolded anyways, Barry came out with the blatant truth, "There was a shooting today. Your dad needs me to process some evidence. Which means I don't know if we're gonna be able to make it to Star Labs."

"Seeing this thing turn on is like your dream," Iris tilted her head, mocking him, "Your sad little nerdy dream. Plus, I canceled a date for this," she made an 'o' when she saw Barry's fries sitting at the edge of the table, "Also-" she quickly grabbed some and started chewing on them, "-I may or may not have told a friend you'd help her with her article on that machine thing."

"First of all, hands off my fries," Barry tried taking back his lunch but Iris smirked and snatched the entire box before backtracking away. Seeing there was no winning with the woman, Barry huffed and plopped back on his stool.

"Was there a second of all somewhere in there?" Iris asked after swallowing down.

"You know I'm okay with helping people but I would prefer if you didn't promise me off to someone without telling me first."

Iris cheekily smiled and returned with only half of his fries, "But that's what you're all about, isn't it? Helping people? She needed help - I found a solution. She's like me, normal, and she doesn't quite understand what's so important about this particle accelerator nor the people who run it."

Barry looked almost offended by that last statement, "People who run it? Harrison Wells' work in quantum theory is light-years ahead of anything they're doing at CERN."

Iris gave him a pointed look, "You're doing that thing where you're not speaking English."

"Okay," Barry got up from his stool again and walked over to a white board. He picked up a marker and drew a dot on it, "Just imagine that that dot is everything the human race has ever learned until this moment."

"Does that include twerking?"

Barry then made a motion to the rest of the space on the board, "That is everything we could learn from the particle accelerator. It's a whole new way of looking at physics. It will literally change the way that we think about everything."

Iris stared long and hard at the board but in the end she made a face and stated, "You gotta get yourself a girlfriend."

Behind them came in Iris' father, Joe West, who promptly warned his daughter, "Hey, leave him alone, he's working."

Iris mocked a sigh and turned to Joe, wearing a smile on her face, "Hi, Dad. Your testing is done," she gestured to the tubes Barry had been working on when she came in.

Barry nodded in agreement, "I think the Mardon brothers are hiding on a farm. The fecal matter I found on the street, it was cow manure, which contains traces of oxytetracycline. It's an antibiotic. There are only four farms in the area that still use it in their feed. I bet you find a very sweet Shelby parked at one of them."

And while Iris didn't completely understand all that Barry had said she did get the most important thing out of it, "Dad, seeing as how Barry solved your poop problem, how about letting him go to Star Labs tonight?"

Joe made a motion for them to leave, "Fine, go."

"Yes!" Iris cheered and gestured for Barry to get going.

"Thank you, Joe," Barry had barely any time to say before Iris dragged him out of the lab.

~ 0 ~

In the popular Star Labs everything was bustling with energy and impatience for the great reveal of the Particle Accelerator. Iris and Barry walked in calmly conversing over Barry's abrupt decision to take a trip to the next city over, Starling City, in secrecy and under lies.

"Did you find proof of the impossible in Starling City, or did you just make my dad mad for no reason?" Iris couldn't help chuckle as she thought back to her father and how angry he was after discovering Barry's trip. He shot out all the punishments Barry would get despite Barry not even living with them anymore.

"Quite…" Barry blinked in surprise, not quite over what he had found in the next city over. But of course to his misfortune, he couldn't tell his best friend any of it.

Iris didn't guess anything else was going on in his mind. She only smiled and kept looking forwards, until she found Belén across them. Giddy to see someone who could understand how confusing all the sciency parts were, Iris promptly dragged Barry towards her friend.

Belén seemed to be intently listening to another, slightly older, woman standing in front of her. The woman was talking rather quick much to Belén's dismay but even that didn't make her interrupt.

"Now, do you think you got that for your paper?" the woman asked after she'd finished her long lecture.

Belén gave a nod but after resigning to her lack of knowledge she shook her head, "Nope, sorry, did not get that."

The woman sighed and looked away. "Belén!"

Belén scrunched her nose and made a frantic gesture with her hands. "I'm sorry, Nina! What do you want me to do? I am way out of my element here!"

"No kidding," Nina laughed.

"Where have I heard a conversation like this before?" Iris teasingly asked upon joining the two women. She looked up at Barry with an almost scolding gaze.

"It's not my fault you can't understand such a simple concept," Barry gave a nonchalant shrug, only irritating Iris.

"It's a bit difficult to do so when you're talking at a lightning speed!"

"I do not!"

"You want to bet?"

"Funny, now it feels like a conversation I've had before," Belén spoke up with a rather amused look on her face, "Isn't that right Nina?" she looked to her friend beside her.

"Right," Nina she nodded, smiling in amusement.

Iris shook her head, sharing Belén's same irritation with their friends. She decided to skip disagreements and go to the happy introduction stage instead, "Barry, this is Belén - she's the one that needed more help on her paper."

Embarrassed Iris had actually gone to Barry with the story, Belén blushed and quickly clarified, "Which I already took care of as you can sorta see," she gestured to Nina, "I also have a smarter friend unwilling to help - wait!" she realized how that sounded badder than she thought it would have and quickly tried mending it, "Not that, not that I knew you would be unwilling to help or anything. I just...I just figured you wouldn't wanna help someone you haven't even met properly. I considered it was a hell of a lot of rudeness…"

Nina liked watching Belén ramble on her in her quirky fits but she decided this moment was not a good one and promptly stepped in to save her. With a hand placed over Belén's mouth, Nina smiled at Barry, "She means it's nice to meet you and would have thanked you for your help."

Belén pushed Nina's hand off her and agreed with a nod, "Yes, that's what I wanted to say. Sorry I couldn't say that in a shorter way."

Barry had found himself rather amused by the ombre-haired woman. He knew what it felt like to ramble on and on yet not be able to make a point. He made a motion it was all fine and added, "I'm glad you found someone to help you. Iris always makes a fuss when her assignments are, and I quote," he raised his fingers and made air quotations with them, "Sciency and complicated," while Belén laughed, Iris smacked him on the arm.

"I don't say that!" Iris nearly shouted.

"It's okay, Iris. I hate them too," Belén said before they would start another banter, "I didn't choose this topic though - my mentor Linda assigned me this paper for next week's newspaper. Says it's my big chance and all."

"You work at CC Pictures?" Barry questioned her, curiously.

"Well, it's kinda a job but not really but kind of," Belén shook her head, "Nope, that didn't make sense did it? I'm an intern," she said before more words found their way out of her mouth.

"And she's almost a full paid journalist," Iris remarked afterwards, "Kind of jealous, Belén."

"Well you know, they hire almost every year. I could ask Linda and see if she would be willing to get you a spot."

Iris' mouth fell open at the offer, "Really!? You think you could do that!?"

"Maybe you can start as an intern or something," Belén smiled at her friend's excitement, "And maybe I can even take a crack at it and torture you as an intern...but you know not really. I don't like being mean."

"Nope," agreed Nina, "She just likes to talk a lot."

Belén mocked a glare but said nothing back. There was nothing wrong with talking a lot. She just sometimes had a tendency to say more than what was needed. And sometimes, that caused some problems with people who didn't know that's how she was.

"C'mon, Belén, if you're going to use me you'll need to be finished before ten," Nina warned then elaborated for Iris and Barry, "I have a night shift at the hospital tonight and I cannot be late. Belén has a tendency to forget things so I can be here far longer than I can."

Disappointed, Belén pouted, "Can we not discredit me in front of someone new?" she looked to Barry, "I do not forget everything."

"Ah, it's okay," Iris spoke before he did, "Barry's late for everything."

"I agree with her," Barry pointed to Belén, "Don't discredit me in front of new people."

"It makes you sound like a flake," Belén blurted what she thought had been a silent thought. She gasped and covered her mouth, her eyes half widened in horror, "I am so sorry…"

Barry didn't look so offended as he laughed. Nina decided it was once again time to save her friend, "We'll see you guys later," she linked arms with Belén, "It was nice meeting you, Barry. And good to see you again Iris."

"Nice seeing you too," Iris waved.

"Bye," Belén waved back but added, "And you're not a flake," she told Barry who struggled not to laugh again, "At least...I don't think you are...are you?"

"Belén!" Nina scolded her.

Belén deeply sighed and resigned to her first bad impression, "I'm just going to leave now. Sorry," she gave an honest, apologetic smile as she left with Nina.

Iris chuckled and looked at Barry, "So, what you think of her? Fairly amusing, right? Nina's a bit more serious but she has her fun side too."

Barry wanted to come up with words that didn't insult Belén but he supposed his laugh was insulting enough, "She's...she's something."

"She's definitely fit to be a journalist," Iris continued, "Some of us - not me," she quickly clarified before she was thought rude, "used to call her motor-mouth Belén. Not me though!"

Barry couldn't help the third laugh that escaped his mouth, "Why? She's...okay, she talks a lot, but it's - it's cute."

Iris' eyebrows shot upwards in suspicion, "You think my friend is cute?"

"I said the way she talks is cute," Barry quickly corrected but knowing Iris it wouldn't be easy to convince her otherwise.

"Barry…" Iris broke out one of her teasing smiles, even tilting her head for effect.

"Iris, don't," Barry stepped away in mild annoyance.

"What? I didn't say anything, you did!"

"I complemented!"

"But you said she was cute!"

"The way she talks!"

Iris pursed her lips together, refusing to leave it alone. Barry shook his head knowing things wouldn't be forgotten if he didn't move away.

"Barry, come back!" Iris whined as he started walking away, "I still need your help!" she rushed after him.

~ 0 ~

After Iris caught up and apologized for her teases, she and Barry got together over the refreshments table and gathered up some drinks. They were really just waiting for the head of Star Labs, Dr. Harrison Wells, to commence the event. In the meantime, Barry tried giving tips to Iris on what to write for her assignment.

"This is far too much for my understanding," Iris finally cut him off and drank from her glass, "Why, oh why, did I ever think this was a good idea?"

"I ask myself the same question," Barry remarked back with a clean smirk on his face.

Iris rolled her eyes as she took another sip of her drink. There was no use in arguing over something she completely agreed on. Instead, she focus on the nice event laid out before them. While she didn't understand much of the Accelerator, it apparently was a monumental step towards the future. At least that's what she got from the chattering she could over hear from other guests. However, one particular conversation began to carry over to her ears and immediately she was disgusted.

Not very far from her and Barry, stood Belén and a young man similar in age. He was just a bit taller than her, his shaggy black hair matching his dark eyes that were laid on Belén with such fury it almost scared Iris if she wasn't more angry with him. She hated him, absolutely hated him. Barry, who had been helping himself to another drink, noticed Iris staring with her angry look and wondered who could have earned one of those at an event she didn't know people in. He followed her gaze to Belén and the young man and of course saw what Iris was frowning at - the guy was almost shouting at Belén.

"Who's that?" he asked Iris after a minute of listening on the conversation.

"Eugh," Iris made a face, "Carlton, Belén's boyfriend."

"That's her boyfriend?" Barry almost gaped at the sight. The previously 'motor-mouth Belén' was silently listening to whatever shouts Carlton was giving her with no trace of that infectious smile she had on earlier.

Iris was glad he saw the waste and sighed, "Unfortunately, yes."

"But he's…"

"Rude? Verbally abusive? Controlling?" Iris plastered on a wide, fake smile, "Yeah, he is. Belén's been trying to break up with him for months now but she doesn't know how."

"Maybe she can try 'I'm breaking up with you'? I'm no expert but I'm pretty sure that could do it."

"How do you do that when the guy has complete support from the girl's dad because he doesn't really know who his daughter has for a boyfriend? Not to mention he doesn't even let Belén speak much."

Barry didn't like seeing someone take advantage of someone else's kindness and especially when the victim looked like she couldn't even hurt a fly. That's the way Belén looked at the moment. It appeared she was trying to put in a word but every time her mouth opened up Carlton had something else to say and shut her right up.

Iris panicked when Barry took a couple steps towards the pair, "What are you doing!?" she latched her hand onto his arm.

"Iris, that's your friend over there," Barry gestured with his other hand, "You're not gonna let her suffer are you?"

"You think I haven't tried intervening?" Iris raised an eyebrow and let got of his arm, "Of course I have! But Belén says to let her handle it."

"Iris, she's being mauled over there," Barry insisted, "That's not like you."

"Ultimately it's her choice," Iris said as much as it pained her. Of course she wanted to rip Belén away from Carlton but even if she did it wouldn't make much use if Belén would return minutes later.

"Maybe she just needs persuasion," Barry refused to let that happen, "Who better than us, right?"

Iris did like the idea of someone else helping her against Belén's 'boyfriend' and who better than her best friend. They worked well together and she was sure she could make some serious progress on Belén.

"Fine," she huffed in the end but quickly pulled out a warning finger at him, "But if you get hurt I won't be held responsible."

That only made Barry more irritated, "He hits too?"

"Well, no, I just meant if you happen to get punched for being nosy then…"

"Right, I'm nosy," Barry gave her a look that told her to reevaluate her statement. Iris rolled her eyes and went towards Belén instead, prompting him to follow.

Belén was in the middle of inputting a response to something Carlton was saying when he shouted again and shut her right up, "You're an idiot! You really think you could hide it from your own father?"

Belén had flinched under his loud tone and desperately wished she could quiet him down. This was exactly why she hadn't mentioned she was coming to Star Labs to him. She knew when he learned he was coming to his job's rival laboratory he would go ballistic. But unfortunately, he had come out of his own accord to check out the competition and happened to have spotted her. Now he was threatening to take her home and tell her father as well, something she had planned to do on her own...but much later.

"I wasn't trying to hide it," she quietly clarified but it was enough to set Carlton up for another shout.

"Then you would have told me or him! You're not a great liar, Belén! Did you think I would be stupid enough to buy one of your pathetic excuses?" he harshly grabbed her by the arm, meaning to pull her towards the door when Belén pushed him off, growing irritated herself.

"I wasn't going to lie to you! I was simply going to wait a bit before I told your or my Dad. And I don't understand what's the big deal, frankly," she crossed her arms, "I'm only doing my job here. Besides, apparently this Accelerator thing is going to do good for us-"

Carlton loudly scoffed, "Don't be stupid, Belén! The only thing that's gonna do is cause trouble. Do yourself a favor and stop being an idiot."

Before Belén could reply, Iris and Barry reached their location and of course intervened on Belén's behalf.

"That's no way to talk to her," it was Barry who spoke first, though Iris was right beside him ready to go next.

Belén was surprised to find the pair of friends with her, especially since she hadn't seen them anymore over the course of the night.

Carlton glared at them, only growing further irritated, "This is between her and me so-"

Iris took her turn at him and cut him off, "You make it our business when we can hear your shouts from across the room. Besides, Belén's our friend and if someone is being rude to her we're definitely going to step up."

Carlton took a step towards them but Barry cut in and blocked any way towards Iris, and in the process Belén. His stern face warned Carlton there was no joke behind his words, "Back off. There's nothing that should ever make you talk to someone the way you are."

When Belén saw Carlton stepping towards Barry she knew she had to end things, "Please, just stop!" she cut in between Carlton and Barry, begging them with words and eyes, "I didn't want any problems!"

"Should've thought of that before you came here, Belén!" Carlton snapped and reached for her arm when Barry put out an arm to block her.

"Leave her alone," he warned Carlton, gently pulling Belén to Iris' spot behind. Before Carlton opened his mouth Barry added, "And leave if you don't want security called on."

Carlton shot a look at Belén who took it with silence, "You know this is far from over," he told her, "Your father is going to want to hear about this."

"Ooh…" was all Belén said as Carlton started leaving, clearly afraid of what would come next.

Iris rubbed Belén's arm comfortingly, "Hey, don't worry."

Belén sighed and ran a hand down her face, "I cannot believe this happened. I really thought I could just get through this and then tell my Dad on my own terms."

Barry turned around wearing a confused, yet surprised, look on his face, "Is your Dad really with this guy?" he knew he had no business asking something like that but with the small moment he met Belén he knew that was not the guy that would fit her best.

Belén sheepishly looked at him, feeling embarrassed he had to witness something like that, "My Dad doesn't really know how aggressive Carlton can get. And," knowing Iris would have something to say about that, Belén looked pointedly at her friend, "I would really appreciate if no one mentioned anything to him - Iris."

Iris rolled her eyes and looked to the side, "I mean, I'm a journalist - I'm supposed to shed the truth!"

"Yeah, on the public not my Dad," Belén gently pushed her then looked back to Barry, "And I'm really sorry you had to witness this, and get rude behavior in the process. Believe me, it won't happen again."

"Can you make that a promise so I at least know my new friend won't be in harm's way?"

"I'm sorry," Belén said quietly before sighing again. The last thing she wanted was to drag people in her own problems, especially people she literally just met.

"What are you apologizing for?" Iris scolded her and earned a look from Barry, "What?" she told him next.

"Clearly, Iris needs to work on her comforting skills," Barry announced and got a small smile out of Belén, something he quickly noticed.

While Iris mockingly glared at him, Belén started fixing herself up from Carlton's aggressive movements, "It's fine, guys, really. It's nothing new to me."

"Belén, why was he so threatening with your Dad?" Barry curiously asked, hoping to change the topic from the bad moment.

"Um, well," Belén twirled one of her blonde tips, "my dad sort of works for the big rival science lab of this…" she gestured to their current spot, "...place."

"Mercury Labs," Barry realized the problem and assumed her father was against his daughter stepping foot into the rivalry lab.

Belén nodded, "Mhm. I mentioned that I this assignment and he went ballistic. He said I couldn't come...so then I kind of snuck out. He's working later than usual so I thought I could get away with it for a while. I just didn't count that Carlton would be here - he works at Mercury Labs too."

"Well then I assume you must really want to write this piece if you went through all this trouble."

At the assumption of Barry's, Iris laughed and looked at Belén, "No she doesn't. She hates the science stuff, like me!"

Belén chewed on her bottom lip while trying to form a small smile, "Well...I mean, I don't understand a lot of stuff but I know this is supposed to help people. Plus, you have to admit the pretty lights are cool."

Iris made a noise and shook her head, "Typical. The one moment I have someone on my side and she sways."

Belén chuckled and sobered up rather fast, "Thank you," she told both kind best friends, "I'm really only used to thanking Iris," she added afterwards, "So extra thank you to you, Barry."

"Well that's Barry for you," Iris gave a light shrug, "Always trying to help people."

Before Barry could remark on his embarrassment thanks to Iris, the head of the event, Dr. Harrison Wells himself, began walking up the platform at the center of the room to address the crowd. Immediately there was some applause from the crowd as all attention turned to him.

"Thank you," Wells addressed the cheering, "My name is Harrison Wells. Tonight, the future begins. The work my team and I will do here will change our understanding of physics. Will bring about advancements in power, advancements in medicine, and trust me that future will be here faster than you think-"

Unfortunately, someone decided to pickpocket Iris' bag at that moment and snatched it right off her shoulder. Iris barely felt the blow before she realized her bag was gone, "Hey!" she cried, "My laptop! It's got my dissertation."

Without a second thought, Barry ran after the thief in hopes to get the bag back. While Iris was in distress, Belén was stunned at the quick action Barry had taken on.

"Wow, he really does like to help," she said before Iris took off in the direction of the thief and Barry, "Iris, stop!" she went after the woman.

But by the time the two caught up with Barry and the thief, the thief had run off only to be arrested by a police officer. Barry, in the meanwhile, had received a good punch across the face.

"Barry, are you okay?" Iris asked for the tenth time after the whole fiasco. The three stood not too far from where the teen thief was being pushed into a police car by an overexcited cop.

"Who is that?" Belén wondered as the blonde man happily chattered with a fellow companion over what she assumed was his arrest.

"And why is he so excited over catching a mugger?" Iris crossed her arms, scrunching her nose in dislike.

"He's a transfer from Keystone," Barry told the two women, "Started a few weeks ago. Eddie Thawne."

"Oh, that's Detective Pretty Boy," Iris realized from the stories her father had told him not too long ago, "That's what my Dad calls him. Says he actually keeps score when it comes to arrests."

"He is pretty though," Belén blurted and flushed as she looked at the two beside her, "I mean, not that you guys aren't...or…" but she then thought that last 'or' made it seem like she was lying and of course she wanted to clarify, "And by the 'or' I simply meant - or thought - that maybe you guys don't go by 'pretty' and maybe…" she knew she was only rambling on and it wouldn't get better from there. With a big sigh, she made a motion with her hands she was going to stop, "I think it's time for me to go home before I say something more stupid."

"I'd rather have you say more stupid stuff than have to defend you from some guy," Iris gave her a side hug.

"I think Barry's right, you're not very good at comforting people," Belén made a face that made Barry laugh.

Iris wasn't very amused and simply huffed, "Go home, Belén."

"I will," Belén raised a hand in solemn promise, "I have to go finish writing this paper for Linda anyways."

"Linda Park?" Barry recalled the name from the several sports articles the woman wrote. "That's your boss?" the more he learned about Belén the more impressed he was of her.

Belén nodded, "Yup! Good ole, sometimes flaky, Linda. She got me into the internship years ago and she's set to be my mentor when I start on the job for real. Anyways, I really have to go. Thank you both, and it was nice meeting you, Barry."

"Likewise," Barry nodded and gave her a polite shake of hands. Belén smiled back and started off on her way home.

~ 0 ~

Arriving at home and seeing her father wasn't back yet was a big relief for Belén. She would have some time coming up with an excuse as to why she was at Star Labs. Though it wouldn't make much of a difference and her Dad would still be upset, Belén figured it was better if she came up with things to say.

"Rayan?" she called as she dropped her bag over the kitchen table, "Rayan? Are you back yet?" she called for her twin brother numerous times until she concluded he was not home either. She wasn't very surprised since he had told her earlier in the day he would be arriving later that day. Still, she'd had hope he would've came back so he could give her a final edit on her paper when she finished.

After grabbing her laptop from her room upstairs, Belén settled down at the kitchen table to write up her paper, using things she'd gotten from Nina before she left and her own thoughts. She just hoped Linda wouldn't be so picky with the final version.

~ 0 ~

Barry had arrived back to his lab in the precinct to continue with some more assignments he'd left behind. Upon arriving, he turned on his television to follow the particle accelerator's progress. He left the television to go to his wheeled-pinboard where all the information he had gathered anything he could from his mother's murder case. Every day or so he would revisit the information he had, hoping to find something he had missed.

But every day, it was the same - there was nothing new on the closed case.

~ 0 ~

Belén flinched when raging thunder crackled up in the sky. She got up from her chair in the kitchen and walked to the glass backdoor to peer outside. It was pouring rain yet she wasn't too concerned with that. Her eyes had settled on the 'pretty lights' of the Accelerator she could manage see. Curious to see just how beautiful the lights were in reality, Belén slid the glass door open and stepped out. She shivered under the cold water hitting her skin but that didn't stop her from walking further through the backyard. She only stopped to pick up one of her prized Azalea flowers that had fallen from her Azalea bushes. She couldn't risk her young nephew coming by and picking up one of the fallen poisonous flowers.

"Blasted rain," she muttered and glanced to her the Azalea's she planted long ago. She loved her flowers but specifically the Azalea for its hot pink appearance - her favorite color may or may not have been pink.

Belén placed the flower in her blouse's front pocket and came to a stop in front of the big tree at the center of the yard. She knew it was stupid, and childish, but she began climbing it.

"Oh, if Dad could see me right now," she made a face as she wondered how irritated her father would be upon seeing her drenched and up a tree simply for lights in the sky. She would be sure to get down before he returned, she promised herself.

~ 0 ~

Barry was still looking over his mother's case information on the board when he heard alarming news from the television.

'Wait, we are now being told to evacuate the facility. The storm may have caused a malfunction to the primary cooling system. Officials are now trying to shut down the particle accelerator. But so far have been unable to regain…'

Barry looked back at the television only to witness the power being cut off. He went to go close the canopy as soon as he heard a loud, violent explosion from across the city - assuming it to be Star Labs. Though he tried to remain calm it went to hell the moment he saw all the chemical liquids around the room begin to rise from their containers...just like it had happened when he was a child only minutes before his mother was murdered. By staring at the liquids in almost awe, he missed the shock-wave from the Accelerator coming towards him. At the same time, lightning struck down on him. He was thrown across the room, hitting a shelf and coming to a drop on the floor.

That was the last thing he would be seeing, or remembering, for the next nine months.

~ 0 ~

Belén had missed the calls her father was leaving for her in both the house phone and her cellphone due to the fact she was sight seeing. She took out her flower from her pocket and tried re-assorting its crushed petals. She hated when the petals would get crumpled. She took great care of them for a reason yet mother nature seemed to be against her. However, at the loud explosion she snapped her gaze back up and was horrified to see the burst of energy. Even more horrified, and now terrified, she felt when she saw the shock-wave coming straight towards her.

"N-n-n-n-n-n-n-no!" she cried as she tried to beat the shock-wave and get down from the tree. It was, of course, impossible and so the only thing she did was scream when the shock-wave pushed her off the tree. Her back violently hit the grass but by that time she was had passed out. Her lonesome azalea had landed on her palm.

There was no one to see it make contact with the grass bits underneath between her opened fingers which then merged together on her skin.

~ 0 ~

Dr. Nina Clarke was overwhelmed with all the incoming patients coming into the ER thanks to the outcome of the Particle Accelerator. She was barely getting a breather when the doors flung open and two of her co-workers urgently pushed in a new patient over a gurney.

"Oh my God…" her eyes went wider when the patient's best friend came in seconds later, "Iris?" she rushed to keep the woman from entering the bloc where the other workers were bringing Barry in.

Iris was in tears and almost incoherent but she still managed to explain a little to Nina, "Lightning! Explosion and Barry, he, he was...lightning!"

Nina blinked and put herself in front of Iris, "Okay, I'll go in and I promise we'll do our best. Stay with your dad and I'll be back, okay?"

Iris tried controlling her radical breathing and sobs as best she could but it was almost impossible. She had been terrified to receive the call from the CCPD telling her of Barry's accident. Her father had been taking care of a case and was offline for a bit so the dilemma fell on her. She thought perhaps things would get better knowing that Belén's good friend was helping out in Barry's case. Of course her tremors skyrocketed all over again when she saw none other than Belén being hurried off into the bloc as well. Her father came running afterwards, also hysterical.

Iris dropped dropped her hands from her face and rushed towards the man, "Mr. Palayta? What's going on!?"

"Iris," Belén's father was somewhat relieved to see a familiar face, "Belén...she, she was, I don't know what she was doing but she was injured from this Accelerator. Now she's off in there," he motioned to the closed doors of the bloc, "in danger of paralysis, head trauma, coma - I don't know!"

Iris' lip quivered as she turned away from Belén's father. In the same night her best friend and her college friend had been harmed and pushed to the same borderline of life and death.

~ 0 ~

3 Months after the Particle Accelerator explosion.

In a liquor store, a woman in purple leather, with a mask covering half her face, was in the middle of threatening a cashier. "Hand over the money unless you wanna die in a really nasty way."

The poor cashier shook as he reached for the register. At the same time however, the door of the liquor store was flung open, off its hinges actually.

"What the!?" the woman in purple turned to the threshold with both palms extended.

A young man walked in with a mask over his face. He raised his hands and flicked his fingers to the sides, knocking down the security cameras from the ceiling. The woman in purple shot forwards a purple mass from her palms but the man deflected the masses to the sides with another flick of his hands.

"Come now, sister, is that the way to greet me?"

The woman in purple was in horror to see after the young man threw the mask off his face. "Y-you're...you're supposed to be dead..."

The young man smirked. "And you're not supposed to be a criminal but here we are...Plasticine?"

[imhereforbvcky]

A Safe Place - Part 1

Summary: Steve Rogers has never been afraid of sacrifice, especially for the ones he loves. This time, when he might really be lost, what sacrifices will you be driven to for love? 

Prompt:  “I wish you had chosen me.”

Word Count: 2687

Warnings: angst, mission injury, possible character death

Author’s Note: Finallyyyyyy for @buckthegrump‘s challenge from so long ago there isn’t even a post for it anymore. This will only have 2 (mayyyybe 3, I’m still tweaking the second part we’ll see where it lands) and I’ll post the next within a week.

“Shit,” Sam cursed under his breath as Tony eased the jet into the hangar. His tired eyes fixed on the figure waiting in the distance, watching.

“Less than ideal place for this conversation,” Tony agreed. “You sure you got this?”

“Yeah,” Sam sighed, picking up his debris-covered red flight goggles and trudging toward the back of the jet. “It should be me.”

There in the cold shelter of the hangar, you waited for Steve. It hadn’t been a long mission but when the whole team shipped out at once, you knew well enough to worry. You also knew he would need some space.

Steve was a natural leader and with that came the natural inclination to take responsibility for every twist of fate. After a day like this, he’d need time to write up the reports, to sort through it, compartmentalize, and figure out how to live with it.

There stood an unspoken sequence of events between you two. If you could, when he came home, you’d meet him at the hangar with a hug that felt more like a sigh of relief. You’d whisper that you were glad he was back, and he’d hold onto you for a moment longer than was really necessary, just because he wanted to. Then he’d slip off to debrief with the team. He’d take as long as he needed with the paperwork. Then he’d come back to you a little more like himself. Just that little bit softer, ready to be warm again, and loved.

So you waited, like always, as the ramp of the Quinjet eased down and the team began making their way out. A small smile accompanied the nod you directed toward Sam when he stepped out first. Your gaze quickly returned to the entry, though, looking for Steve.

Instead, your worries about the severity of the mission were confirmed next with Clint. He lumbered out of the jet with an arm slung over Natasha’s shoulders. She had a cut on her forehead and he could barely support himself.

Clint always came back a little banged up, but they were a mess. A medic charged from behind you with a stretcher and you staggered back. Time had started to slow, and the ringing in your ears had begun to drown out the sound of Tony shouting directions at the mechanical team.

Where the hell was Steve?

As your eyes followed the medics, you noticed Sam hadn’t headed for the exit. He was still walking toward you, steady and somber. Only a few feet away now, you took him in. He was caked in a thick grey dust, it nearly covered the bruise blooming across his cheek and the blood on his chest. It coated his skin everywhere except the damp smudges across his cheeks and under his eyes.

Why the hell had Sam been crying?

He called your name when he was within a few paces. It was quiet and gentle. Too gentle. Like he knew the next words would shatter your entire world, and he had to be careful forming them.

In the same instant he took a steady stride forward, you took a hurried step back, trying to flee from the truth you already knew he was bringing.

“Sam, wh—“ Your voice caught in your throat, in the heavy sob clawing its way up from deep in your gut. Your eyes flickered to the Quinjet once more, now a swarm of engineers and interns replenishing, repairing. Every one of them a signal that the mission was over, the jet was empty. But your Steve hadn’t been on it.

“Where’s Steve?” the words made it out in full this time, but only as a wretched quiver.

In the time you’d spoken, Sam had already closed the space and pushed out the cold emptiness around you. His arm slung firmly around your shoulders as he pulled you in tight. Your face was crushed into his shoulder as you clawed at his back in agony.

“Sam?” you mumbled against the thick fabric of his gear. Your chest shook with the effort of holding back, of trying not to break.

Your eyes were wide now, searching. Searching, but drowning in the truth.

“Sam, where is he?!” you cried. It was loud and desperate. The sound of your grief echoed off the sheet metal walls of the hangar and thundered back at you, exposed and relentless.

Sam’s shoulder shuddered under your grip.

“He uh,” Sam cleared his throat, shoving down his own sorrow but mostly trying to hide his anger and his regret. “He didn’t make it back this time.”

You knew it was coming, but it still hit you like a freight train. Your knees buckled as you forgot everything but Steve.

It wasn’t as if you’d never lost someone. In your line of work, it happened often enough. And you were no child, no stranger to losing love. But not like this… not him.

Steve was your constant, your security. Even when he wasn’t there, even when you worried, you knew it would be alright. Steve Rogers was the most reliable person you’d ever met. He was stubborn and brave and reckless, but he was the true steel. Strong and sure. Persistent to a fault. He was a promise you never feared would break.

But promises are just words and all men bleed.

Steve groaned with the pressure of the massive I-beam crushing down on his leg. He’d learned right away that he had no leverage with which to free himself. That was hours ago. Or was it days?

He’d woken then, choking on concrete dust and pain. It struck sharp lances up his thigh and tingled like needles from his toes up his calf. Something was broken but just now it didn’t matter what. He couldn’t move anyway.

The mission had been a set-up, an ambush. They’d been swarmed and overwhelmed almost immediately. Steve had done everything he could to get his team – his friends—out alive. The building was teeming with enemies by the time he heard the Quinjet start up; about the same time he realized they would be shot out of the sky if he didn’t do something.

So he made the sacrifice, as was his instinct. He laid his body on the proverbial grenade and bought his teammates time to escape the blast. Now he lay deep behind enemy lines, under a heap of rubble, whose weight should have killed him. Would have killed him 60 years ago.

He wondered if he could die like this. Tried not to consider what the mechanics of his scientifically engineered body would do over time, trapped down here. How long he would wait for death, and if it would stick this time.

When he heard the sputtering diesel engines above, the groaning of steel, and the crumbling shift of concrete, relief flooded him. Someone had come looking for him. Soon, this hell would be over. One way or the other.

He hoped it was his team come back for him, but he feared it was not.

With nothing for it but to wait and survive, Steve closed his eyes and focused. He concentrated not on the pain, or what was coming down on him, but on the one waiting for him at home, counting on him.

He knew now that home wasn’t a place. For Steve, home was the thing you want to return to over and over. It’s the person you want to be with, the one you think of when the challenge seems the hardest. Home wasn’t a place, but a feeling, and right now, when he couldn’t see the way out, he found it in you.

You. The one person who stood in the hangar with nothing but warmth and comfort. A whispered word and a feeling that was as close to home as he ever hoped to get.

Some things were worth surviving for.

Steve woke slowly and softly, for once. He could see the warm light of morning shining bright through his eyelids before he even opened them. With a soft groan, he turned over, escaping the heat of the beam of light across his face.

“Time is it?” he muttered half into the pillow.

You chuckled softly, wondering if you’d ever get used to the thick rumble of his voice in the morning.

“Late,” you answered. Your fingers dipped  into his tousled hair, gently, pushing the strands in haphazard strokes. “You must’ve needed the rest. You been over-doin’ it while I was gone?”

Steve wasn’t a huge talker. He communicated mostly through physical action –space when he was angry, constant restless movement when he was anxious, steady deliberate touches to show affection…

He nodded. His eyes cracked open enough to take you in with a smile. He’d missed you, and the soft glide of your fingertips over his scalp reminded him just how much. The bright sunlight pouring over your skin, warming you, made him ache with the need to feel you, hold you, show you in his slow quiet way just how much he’d missed you.

Steve was always a morning person; up and at ‘em before most people had even hit the first snooze on the alarm. But now, with you in his bed more often than not, he’d begun to appreciate a lazy morning. The early hours filled with soft skin and warm glances, with no plans but the easy laughter of comfort, had become his favorite time of day.

Mornings like this.

“I’m sorry.” Your fingers laced through his. “It was another ‘need to know’ assignment. I couldn’t check in.” You drew his hand up to your lips and kissed his knuckles one by one. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“I know you can handle yourself,” he smiled, draping a strong, heavy arm over your waist and drawing you closer. You sank down into the bed with a giggle and he smiled. God you loved when he looked at you like that. “Just… There’s an assignment coming up. Big one.”

“Have you chosen your team? Want me to come with?”

He shook his head and kissed your shoulder, letting his lips linger on your skin as he spoke. “You just got back. Have you even slept yet? Written your report?”

“If you want me to be there, you know I will be,” you shrugged. “For you.”

“Team’s chosen already; best we’ve got. I just…worried you wouldn’t be back before I take off. I wanted to see you.”

He closed his eyes and pressed his cheek against your chest, memorizing the soft brush of your skin, the steady rhythm of your heart. The physical contact was both a comfort and an expression. Especially on a day like today. A day when he was preparing to march into hell.

Your fingers slid over his bare shoulders, smoothing up the back of his neck, relishing in the velvety soft glide and the firm resistance of muscle beneath. This was how you liked to remember Steve best, when one of you was away on assignment. Tangled together, soft and safe. Wanted. Loved.

“I’m here,” you breathed.

He pulled you down a little further in the bed and your fingers slid to cup his cheek as you pressed a soft, unhurried kiss to his lips.

“’M right here,” you whispered again, eyes closed while he nudged just under your chin with the tip of his nose, pressing the lightest kisses down your throat.

His hands too, smoothed over your skin so softly, so gently. Like you were glass; like you were too precious to him, even to touch, but too right not to.

Goddamn, you missed him.

The room echoed with the smack of the paper file as you dropped it onto the desk. Your boss glanced at it, then up at you. Her expression remained unchanged: a disapproving scowl.

“He could still be alive out there.” You did your best to keep from shouting at her. Emotional outbursts would do nothing for you here.

“What do you want me to do about it, agent? No one has seen or heard from him since he gave the order to get the hell out without him.”

“I want you to gather a shitstorm and rain down hell on this godforsaken mountain until we can get in there and find him!”

“I am not wasting government resources on a deadman,” she slid the Avengers debrief file back across the desk toward you with stiff fingers.

“You don’t know that he’s dead. He’s buried under a building, his communications are probably knocked out, but he—“

“Do you hear yourself?” she demanded, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes. “His own team isn’t even sure he’s alive. Even if this was ours, they’re superheroes and they failed on this one. I will not risk the lives of our own--”

“They don’t need more enhanced; they need manpower!”  Your frustration was getting the better of you, clawing out of your lungs, clamoring for power over your grief. You’d begun talking over your supervisor, arguing for the right to find him and maybe—god you hoped—save him.

“If the Avengers want our help they can ask and we can evaluate on Op but until then—“

“They walked into an ambush and you know it. Avengers are what 10 people? One isn’t even on the planet, Banner’s AWOL…—”

“What is it you want, agent?” she finally asked pointedly.

“I want an army,” you breathed around your rage. “I want whoever did this to know Steve Rogers is not defenseless. He doesn’t stand alone. He’s never given up on what’s right or the people he cares for. And he has to know… they need to know we won’t give up on him. I will find him.”

The director sighed and leaned back in her seat. “I appreciate your enthusiasm and I understand that you are experiencing a personal loss here. But you’re barking up the wrong tree.” She ignored your groan as you too leaned back in your chair across the desk from her and rolled your eyes. “This is the CIA. When things are operating correctly here, we pull the strings and the puppets dance.  I don’t have an army. We don’t deal in sweeping ground forces. I can’t help you.”

“Then pull some goddamn strings. Get me on the ground.”

She shook her head and leveled another stern look at you. “It’s a suicide mission. And for what? No. I can’t sanction this.”

“We have to do someth—“

“You do not call the shots here; you’re a field agent.” She had leaned forward, jamming an angrily pointed finger down onto her desk. “You are the tension in the string. Do you get that? You are a cog in a giant machine. A blunt object, a bullet, a tool that is useful to me. But right now, agent, you’re threatening the integrity of the structure your work upholds. Do you understand?”

You nodded with a bitter smile. “You’re right. I’m a good agent. Do what I’m told.”

“That’s right,” she agreed, relaxing a little. “Don’t waste your talent. I don’t want to see you get burned.”

“I do what I’m told; get my hands dirty so you don’t have to. I’m real good at that part,” you sniffed and looked out the window to your left. “When was the last time you even fired your service revolver, Director?”

You could see her jaw tick out of the corner of your eye. “Are you threatening me?”

“Just making an observation.”

A sharp huff left her nose as she shook her head, incensed. “Fine. You want to get yourself killed, be my guest. I’ll get you in but you’re on your own, you hear me?”

You gave a curt nod as you swiftly rose and strode for the door, unable and unwilling to commit another second to the politics of war.

Your phone pinged before you’d made it out of the building. That email was your best chance: an alias, a half baked plan and a one way flight.

Chapter 2 >>

Will reblog with tags shortly

[thatmultifandomhoe]

Strawberry Cream and BBQ - 4

Pairing: Hybrid Hoseok and Human Reader

Overview: Your best friend knows she can count on you for anything, so when she asks you to watch her hybrid while she’s gone for a study abroad trip for four months, you can’t say no. But when these four months are over, things have changed in a way no one expected.

Word Count: 2,973

Genre: Hybrid AU, Fluff, Future smut, Angst, Best friends to Lovers

Warning: Angst, angst baby

Surprise Update. In honor of reaching 1,000 followers, here’s an early update. I hope y’all enjoy!

Master List

Sneak Peak - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - Part 16 - Part 17 - Part 18 - Part 19 - Part 20 - Part 21 - Part 22 - Part 23 - Part 24 - Part 25 (Final) - Move in Day: A SC&BBQ Drabble

©thatmultifandomhoe Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.

It was a ritual for you and Hoseok at this point. Every time you went to Munchies, you both got the same exact thing, and depending on the day you sometimes added to it. For Hoseok, it was two scoops of vanilla ice cream with peanut butter in a waffle cone and rainbow sprinkles. You got two scoops of the triple chocolate fudge ice cream in a dish with M&M pieces and chocolate syrup.

The first time you took Hoseok with you to Munchies, he had been confused after you ordered, a peculiar look on his face as he looked at you. It wasn’t until you were sitting that he asked why you didn’t get strawberry ice cream.

“I actually don’t like strawberries,” you answered, taking that moment to have a bite of your ice cream.

He was already in the middle of licking the side of his cone when you confessed, making his eyes widen. “But…but your scent. It’s strawberry cream.”

You pointed your spoon at him, nodding in agreement. “I know,” you spoke after swallowing. “I think it’s because of the shampoo and conditioner I use. They’re strawberry cream scented and I always use them. It’s my favorite.”

Hoseok’s mouth had dropped open a little, but nodded in understanding. “That does make sense then. If you use something like that so much, it kinda molds to your natural scent in a way.”

That had been three years ago and according to Hoseok, even if you did run out of that specific shampoo and conditioner and had to make do with another type, you still smell of strawberry cream.

“Thank you, Strawberry,” Hoseok said as the two of you sat down in your booth. It was in your opinion, the best seat in the building. It was against the wall in-between two other booths, which meant you got to watch who came in and out of Munchies. Sometimes you’d try and put together stories for whoever walked in for the fun of it. Hoseok liked giving them superhero powers and you wondered what secrets they could be hiding.

“You don’t need to thank me,” you said, taking another bite of your ice cream, this time smaller so you could speak again. “If it weren’t for you, I would be here all alone.”

He rolled his eyes, waiting for you to clean your spoon off the ice cream that was on it to take it. Without even asking, he scooped some of the peanut butter off his and spread it onto your desert.

When he first started doing that, you kept on telling him that he didn’t need too, but he ignored you. He liked switching it up though, either holding out the cone for your take a bite or scooping it with your spoon. “You were already doing that before I came along.”

“And that made me realize I was simply waiting for you to come and join me.”

Hoseok laughed, handing you back the spoon so you could continue eating. “You lived a sad life before me Strawberry.”

“Not sad,” you pointed out, spreading the peanut over your ice cream more so it wasn’t just in one spot. “Just different. Why do you always gotta give me some of the peanut butter?”

He simply shrugged, taking a bite out of the waffle cone this time. He was a fast eater and so he was always halfway done with his treat before you were even made a noticeable dent in yours. “I love it, but they always put on a little too much for me.”

“Then why don’t you ask for less?”

“Because you love peanut butter but refuse to get it on your ice cream, because then you’ll feel bad about binging out on all these sweets at once. Honestly, you shouldn’t feel bad about it. Ice cream is supposed to make you happy, not sad. Besides it’s not like we’re here every day. More like once a month really.”

Your mouth dropped open, blinking as you simply stared at you. If anything, you thought it would be a short answer along the lines of, ‘because you like peanut butter so why waste it.’ It wasn’t though.

Vaguely you could remember him asking you why you just didn’t get it after noticing you staring at it one time. That had been an embarrassing moment for you. Staring at someone else’s food was not creepy or weird at all. It wasn’t all your fault though. You had a major sweet tooth that resulted in you binging on sweets more times than you would like to admit. The fact that he remembered you telling him this, it made you feel warm on the inside.

When he sensed a shift in your emotions - your strawberry scent becoming a little sweeter - Hoseok raised an eyebrow as he looked at you while licking his ice cream. It was a silent question but you just shook your head instead and focused on yours. He was quick to notice the soft smile that appeared on your face, but didn’t mention it. Instead, he silently took a moment to admire how shy and happy you looked. Shy wasn’t usually a word he’d typically used to describe you. He had broken any barriers that had been up the first day he met you.

This…this was different though. And he couldn’t remember the last time your scent turned this sweet. It wasn’t overpowering or sickly sweet, but it was like the feeling you might have after eating your favorite candy for the first time in months of not having it. It also reminded him of that moment when he wakes up in the morning and his blankets were just perfectly warm, and he didn’t want to get out of bed.

Hoseok couldn’t remember the last time someone’s scent made him feel that way. Whatever it was that was making him feel this way though, he liked it.

 The ride back to your apartment was quick and quiet this time. But this was because Hoseok was immersed in his phone, checking his messages and social media in-case Sue had sent a text or posted some pictures. His leg shook and he was chewing on his bottom lip in a nervous manner.

You let him go about his search. He wouldn’t relax until he had some form of contact from Sue telling him she was okay. By the time you pulled into your parking lot, Hoseok had checked and rechecked his phone more times than you can count. Killing the engine, you looked over at him, waiting to see if he noticed where he was.

It took a few minutes, but he blinked as he glanced at you, then around his surroundings. A faint blush appeared on his cheeks as he put away his phone and murmured a sorry.

“Can we go inside now and get out of the cold?” You teased, tugging on your hat and gloves.

Hoseok adjusted his jacket and regrettably put on his hat, his ears flattening to make it fit properly. Usually he went without it but your parking spot was the furthest away from the building entrance. It sucked, but it was something you learned to suck up.

“Why can’t we park closer?” Hoseok whined, slinging his bags over both shoulders. You had grabbed his suitcase and was wheeling it behind you.

“Because that’s my assigned parking space,” you gently explained. The wheels from the suitcase rattling against the pavement.

“But it’s so far away. And it’s so cold.”

“It’s only a few minutes Hobi.”

The hybrid pouted as he faithfully followed you to the sidewalk, the wheels suddenly gliding now. “It’s still cold.”

You rolled your eyes and in a matter of minutes the two of you were inside the elevator going up to your apartment. Hoseok didn’t wait to take his hat off, as soon as he was inside the living room the grey knit beanie was off and his ears were free.

“Better?” you asked, amused with his reactions.

“Good God yes.”

“Alright. Need me to show you to your room?”

Hoseok gave you, the look, as if he couldn’t believe that you just asked him that. The apartment was small but this wasn’t his first time here. It wouldn’t surprise you if he was able to smell his own scent lingering around from the last time he came over. “I think I can handle it from here. But thank you.”

Without even a struggle, he picked up his suitcase and maneuvered his way into the spare room. Last night you had cleaned it up for him, dusting the dresser and nightstand and putting on clean sheets. You even got out his favorite blankets that he loved to curl up with. They were heavy blankets that were soft to the touch along with a few others that your mother had knitted. It was the comfort of home that got him excited every time.

The squeal that came from the room informed you that Hoseok found the blankets.

Hoseok came out of his room sooner than you expected. Typically, he spent at least one weekend out of the month at your apartment - it was always so casually mentioned by Colin to Sue that they needed some time to themselves without Hoseok – and would take the time to unpack his clothes into the dresser and set his belongings out even if it was just for two days.  

“It smells different.” He announced, frowning as he walked over to where you stood by the closet hanging up your jacket.

You sniffed once but didn’t smell anything different. If anything, you could still smell the buttercream scented candle you had burning earlier that morning as you got ready. “Different how?”

His nose crinkled as he walked around, sniffing every few steps. “Like someone else has been here. A hybrid specifically.” He came to a halt at your couch, bending over the arm only to stand straight up; his face contorting and a low territorial growl emitted from his chest. There had only been a few other times you heard Hoseok growl like that.

The first time had been a couple months after Sue adopted him. Taehyung, one of your friends who was also a hybrid, had been horsing around with Sue, and Hoseok had seen him grab her arm. His natural instincts to protect her instantly came out when he released the warning growl. When he realized they were only playing, he felt guilty. He had to train himself to not react so severely when their friends were around. After that, the only other times you heard him growl was when he was with you. He sometimes would do it to tease you, but it wasn’t an all the time thing.

“Who’s been here?” Hoseok slowly asked, his jaw clenching as he waited.

Blinking, you ran a hand through your hair as you thought back, trying to remember who’s been over in the last month or so. “I don’t recall,” you slowly answered. “Our friends but that was a couple months ago Hoseok.”

He shook his head though, his upper lip curling up into a snarl. “No. It’s not any of them. It smells of ferret and none of our friends are that breed of hybrid.”

“Ferret?” You repeated, this time frowning. Ferret hybrids had been considered one of the more exotic breeds but over time they fell into the domestic category.

Hoseok nodded, pacing around the living room, his attention going to your bedroom door. You never shut it but as he headed towards your room, you suddenly wondered why he was being like this. Then most importantly, if you had picked up the clothes that you had thrown around while trying to come up with an outfit this morning.

Totally normal thoughts of course.

Hybrids that you knew raced through your head as you tried to figure out who it could be that triggered Hoseok. Why would the scent be going into your bed…your cheeks flushed as that night quickly came to mind.

It suddenly became clear who he was smelling. It had been a blur but you remembered, or at least, parts of it. Johnny had been in one of your classes, he was a sweet guy who flirted with everyone, but no one gave it much thought. It was just part of his personality; he was harmless. When you first met him, you didn’t even realize he was a hybrid. His ears were small and easily concealed when he grew out his hair or wore hats, and he tended to tuck his tail under his shirt. He said it amused him when people realized he wasn’t human.

What had been a day meant to hang out and study for an upcoming test in your Literature class, took a turn for the worst. At least for Johnny it did. His previous owners had put him on medication for his heats and so he hadn’t experienced one in years. Now that his new owners decided to take him off it, he had been hit with a situation that he didn’t know how to handle. You on the other hand, while you weren’t a hybrid, you weren’t stupid. With the knowledge from your Hybrid 101 class - and stories from your other hybrid friends - you knew what was happening, and because you absolutely hated seeing anyone in pain, offered to help in any way possible.

Johnny had accepted without hesitation.

Hoseok’s growls echoed in your apartment as he breathed in deeply upon entering your bedroom where it was the strongest. His chest heaved as the other man’s scent invaded his nostrils. The sound of your racing heart hit him first before you timidly called his name, your guilt and embarrassment crashing into him.

“Who is he?” He harshly growled, his tail swishing back and forth in agitation as his hybrid instincts became the best of him.

You swallowed back the lump in your throat. It had been a month ago. You didn’t think the scent would have lasted that long. “A friend from one of my classes.” You whispered, staring down at the floor.

Hoseok saw red as he turned to face you. “You mated with a ferret?”

The way he said it made it seem like an insult as you quickly shook your head and met his gaze. “No Hoseok. Johnny didn’t mark me at all, I promise. He’s never experienced a heat before…he was going to be in so much pain and I didn’t want him to suffer.” You couldn’t remember the last time Hoseok had been so angry, he was usually happy and went with the flow. Even with Colin he never acted out. This was a side to him you never knew existed.

He stared down at you, having the advantage since he was a good head taller than you. While your explanation made sense, and he knew you were free to make the choice to be with whoever you wanted, he couldn’t help these emotions that were overwhelming him. With your sweet scent filling his senses and the lingering scent of, Johnny, he was unable to think straight. He didn’t even understand why he was acting like this in the first place; he just was.

Hoseok growled in frustration, roughly running a hand through his hair. He needed to get rid of this scent. Staring at you, he suddenly moved towards you, tightly wrapping his arms around you and buried his face in your hair to breathe you in.

You were frozen. Your mind raced as you tried to think of something to say or do to make this better for him. Nothing came to mind though. “I’m sorry.”

He didn’t speak. Instead, he breathed you in until all he could smell was strawberry cream. With a shaky breath, he relaxed enough to lean back, the animalistic side calmed down to a point that allowed him to think. “Open the windows, just enough to get air circulation.” He spoke, his voice low and devoid of emotion. With one last sniff, he moved around you and walked into the living room and started to promptly open the windows.

You watched him move with stiff movements, having an idea as to what he was doing. To help relax him, you slipped on a sweater but went around to the rest of the rooms and opened the remaining windows. When you reentered the living room, he was sitting on the couch, shifting around every now and then. He gave a quick sniff and his face scrunched up again.

Hoseok was scenting your apartment.

With a glance in your direction, his eyes softened as he took in the way you tugged your sweater tighter around your body and the worry in your eyes. He whined a little, conflicted with how he was going to explain his actions. How was he to do that when he didn’t understand it himself? If he didn’t get rid of the ferret’s scent it was going to drive him nuts.

To an extent, you did understand. The rival smell of another man in your apartment, especially one he didn’t know, tugged at his natural instincts. But usually that only happened when a hybrid was romantically linked to the female. Hoseok wasn’t. Sure, he sometimes got a little protective of you when someone new came along, but he was like that with all of your friends.

“I’m gonna make us some coffee,” you softly spoke. “You do what you need to.”

You waited until he nodded, watching as he stretched out on the couch. Walking into the kitchen, you filled the kettle with water and was turning the stove on to heat it, taking a deep breath of your own.

Hoseok was your best friend. That was it.

[aerotraining45-blog]

The advantage of training from an Australian Aerobic School

It truly is unbelievable just how fast we are able to shed sight of this face-splitting pleasure within our model air plane hobby! You are either trying too hard or overly confused by all the choices. And what do you need to do ? Sailplanes? Warbirds? Battle? Control-line? Racing? Maybe you ought to rediscover exactly what this great model air plane hobby is about and try a few enjoyable flying.Whether you need valuable information, tips about flying your model air plane or have questions regarding various model air planes or gear, Fun Flying classes feature fellow enthusiasts who are willing to support the newcomer. They aren't worried about the size, shape, or scale of one's model airplane. Instead, they focus on the enjoyment of traveling on finding out new tactics, and on how exactly best to benefit from the most advantage from every and every model airplane.Typically, interesting fly classes gather to compete in a series of assignments or activities. The point is the fact that through practicing maneuvers that are brand new, the novice will grow to be a venture. Duties are broken up into two groups: unlimited and enjoyable fly. The unlimited category puts no limit regarding the design or products of one's model airplane, besides fulfilling the Academy of Model Aeronautics' (a ma ) protection code for fliers.Tasks in such a category are timed by the idea of intentional movement to the conclusion of the maneuver and purpose that the brakes touch the earth. The enjoyable traveling category may set limitations, like wing loading or radio characteristics, or can remain unlimited. All these tasks are mission oriented, but might be completed as well. Participants input a group in the masters course, (top level), or so the sportsman category, (entry-level ).The duties contain aerobatic precision with these stunts including loops, rolls, touch-down along with take off with your model airplane, and also limbo passes by which a ribbon is stretched between 2 rods that are fifty ft apart and 5 feet high. Fun fliers contend in several of these tasks; are all timed. Missions include tasks like learning to taxi right about the runway, to climb in altitude and slide, to fly exactly three minutes, either to perform spot landing, or even to finish a bomb decline. The National Opposition Fun Fly Affiliation (NCFFA), May Be the approved Particular Interest Group for pleasure traveling by the Academy of Model Aeronautics (AMA). The group includes conventional tasks and model airplane missions, along with an overall layout of pleasure flying.In maintaining the spirit of fun, however, the association suggests that groups make protected, fresh tasks and assignments to get fun fly occasions. Tasks and assignments keep the fun growing for old timers and provide greater selections for beginners. People have done things like landing having a dead engine, or even playing with musical planes, (final down one when the music stops is outside ).So what could one of these enjoyable fly events seem like? Image a model airplane warbird, sailplane, and overcome model aircraft all racing another. After that, aerobatics are performed by a taped-together foam aircraft, followed closely by means of a scratch balsa model air plane. The best advantage of these occurrences is your learning factor: where else can you be subjected to so many unique airplanes and fashions of measure? Take what you have heard the following and return into some interesting. Try to remember, all of RC model airplanes are created the same? Deals, mortgage loan and charge card payments? Get yourself a lift straight up while in the air. Get a green model sailplane.Sailplanes, also known as gliders, fly rising atmosphere. There is absolutely no engine noise the sound of one's heartbeat when you see your own model sailplane turned into a speck at the sky. How does one really get your model sailplane straight back? How did you get it up there in the first spot? What kind of things will you perform along with your model sailplane when it is from the air?A model sailplane, much like the actual thing, will be constantly traveling straight through the air. It must do to keep airspeed to provide elevator and airflow over the control surfaces to give the pilot controller. But when the air is climbing faster than the sailplane is decreasing afterward your sailplane may rise, riding atop the atmosphere that is soaring. Increasing air occurs either as a result of thermal lift or slope raise. Thermal lift involves heat. Even there are occasions once the ground warms to temperatures higher than the atmosphere over. As you know using a hot-air balloon air rises. These pockets of atmosphere make best lifts to get a model sailplane to grow. But such columns of atmosphere are undetectable. Hence the art of thermal combustion would be always to obtain a potent thermal, and then to remain inside it to grow as far as you can. If you're flying'point to point' then to leave this thermal to fly at the direction that you wish to go whilst in an identical time seeking your next thermal to lift up you again until the prevailing power of gravity brings your model sailplane necessarily straight back into earth.Slope lift, by contrast, relies on the wind and also a mountain. The mountain forces the approaching wind upwards. Terrific slope soaring sites are invariably seen in which there was a prevailing breeze and a lengthy shape to develop a sleek and constant upward wave of air.Without thermal lift or slope elevator, a model sailplane will collapse inexorably straight back to earth. The radio controllers make it possible for one to guide your plane to seek out elevator of course, when you are flying from point to move from 1 source of lift to another in the path that you wish to go. And of course, to attract your sky warrior all the way down to some easy landing.There are several techniques of launching a model sailplane to get a ride . The most fundamental and obvious technique is to throw the plane with either a javelin or discus style launching. The plane gains approximately 50 ft of elevation - and you've got to feel like mad that prior to gravity brings it inevitably earthward you're going to seek out elevator. This really is where slope soaring comes with a major benefit because as you launch your model sailplane off the incline you-know the lift is there from the oncoming breeze.Bungee, or hi-start, launch sends a model sailplane skywards like an arrow. The plane is connected to a line attached to elastic tube that's secured for the bottom to your winch. Pull the plane backand allow it zoom in the atmosphere, and then grab the radio control. Betteryet, of class included so you have control. To gather more information on this please find useful source. Another launch method which lacked complete size gliders includes a 2nd powered model air plane to tow the sailplane upward and off. This can be actually really just a wonderful way of mixing a number of modelling and traveling fields together with the towline released by another servo actuation.And yes, even while a few view it cheating, you can find model sailplanes that feature a electrical engine for first starting and also for regaining height whenever required. The engine has folding propeller blades which fold backwards whenever the engine isn't functioning to eradicate the propeller blades from the airflow at the place where they might likewise contribute nothing but drag.Though it is fairly thrilling to see that your own model sailplane soar up up, and to remain there owing to your capability in seeking new thermals, there's still greater your model sailplane can show you. Slope soaring off a hill involves a constant wind and lift, therefore flyers aren't as concerned with losing elevation. So diving from altitude makes for speeds upto a hundred mph. Then that competitive edge creeps in and the slope is where most gliders compete.Racing is done"F3F" style wherever your airplane's flight is timed, or man-on-man manner where you actually race another plane. Sailplane combat, (SSC), is something else again where your goal would be to knock your competition outside of the skies and score a'eliminate'. Because they demonstrably wreck regularly, Comb At sailplanes have been made out of foam for easy rebuilds and will literally rebound off the earth due to their pliable and powerful construction.The Academy of Model Aeronautics, (AMA), features several Special Interest Groups to aid the silent flier. The League of Silent Flight (LSF) provides regulations for racing, aerobatics, and a run of thermal tasks. The RCCA offers combat events and guidance. The NEAC features advice for electric-powered sailplanes. If you would like to focus on the assessment and repair of aircraft for cargo transport there is really a corresponding aviation accident training with it as well. Hopefully, you may find that majority of these fundamentals and processes include similarities where the major difference is in the environment. Freight forwarders possess their own mechanisms trained independently bearing their qualifications upon their own job application. This is only because independent classes may be well rounded instruction together with the broadest opportunities up on qualifying.What can appear to function as occupation that's most ambitious may be that the one found at the armed forces. Attempting to qualify to your military would require one to pass as a mechanic in particular general military entrance exams at the same period. Expect overall wellness restrictions to become a portion of this factor however. Although it might be important for you to be with a background in aviation or the road vehicle industry it will not arrive as a requirement. For one to professionally practice what is found from aviation mechanic training in the armed forces, assume larger pressure given the predictability in civil airlines.Try to acquire in contact major aviation centers in your area if you want to carry out an aviation collision training closer to exactly where you are. Regardless of being fully truly a major city airport, cargo terminal or mere training establishments for pilots. These places need aviation mechanics that could even guarantee you that a spot from the spot you trained in. Considering the fact that several works is expected to turn into an accident, aim to train locally whenever at all possible.

[sourwolfstories]

Hey! Can you rec some sterek university AUs pls? Thanks you!

Oh boy… okay so this is one of my favorite tropes and I have a crap ton of these. I couldn’t fit all of my faves on here (well i could have but it would have taken forever and the list would have been HUGE) but here are several for you to enjoy!! :)

No Homo by orphan_account

Stiles’ sophomore year starts something like this:3 FourLokos+ 1 peer-pressuring cat- 1 best bro to end all best bros= 1 Craigslist ad headline that reads “str8 dude - m4m - strictly platonic”.Derek is the fool who replies.

It Started With A Whisper by allyasavedtheday, warmth

“I’m Stiles, by the way. In case you did, you know, need something, cause Librarian is kind of an old lady term and… yeah. So, Stiles. S-T-I-L-E-S, like that one dude in that band from the UK.”

Or the one where Derek and Stiles are both in college, Stiles is the school’s librarian, and Derek is just trying to study.

The Company I Keep by secondstar

Stiles has a favorite table at the library. Then some asshole comes along and steals it from him.

Maybe by MellytheHun

Tumblr Prompt:

my fave overheard on campus moment of all time was the two guys who sat behind me in pop culture theory

as class was starting one of them was like “so… do you want a blowjob after this” in a rly bored voice, and then the second guy was like [pause][dejected sigh] “yes”

Not Mine to Love by Sabeley

It should have been awkward then, as the haze of lust left them, but Derek really didn’t mind the fact that Stiles was collapsed on his chest, breathing heavily. He didn’t care that he was naked in his roommate’s bed, coming down from the best orgasm he had ever had. He didn’t even care that he had just lost his virginity to someone who wasn’t Jennifer.

“That can’t happen again,” he said simply.

It happened twice more that night and it never really stopped.

The Hunt by HenryMercury

Stiles wakes up with a hangover and the phone number of the most attractive (and the frowniest) guy he’s ever encountered.

…Who also happens to be the front-man for the band Scott’s just joined.

Pushed to the Limit by kittylovessterek (kitty_fic)

Watching Stiles get ready to go out is torture. The universe is obviously testing him. There’s only so much temptation one werewolf can take.

I Keep On Fallin’ by xKookiesandCreamx

Ow fuck!“

Stiles sprung up out of his slumber, dazedly looking around for the cause of his roommate’s pained sounding exclamation.

He got his answer when he flicked his desktop lamp on and looked to see Derek sprawled in a graceless heap on the floor by Stiles’s bed.

~~~

Or a little college au ficlet in which a middle of the night accident actually turns out to be a not so bad thing after all.

Hot Nerd Alert by alisvolatpropiis

Derek can’t believe he’s actually doing this: taking a selfie snap of the guy he’s been crushing on for weeks to prove to Danny that one, yes, he really does exist, and two, he really is that hot and thus he is totally justified in being too scared to make a move.

Or you know, even talk to the guy outside of the class they share.

In his defense, this isn’t just any guy. This THE guy. Hot Nerd. The utterly adorable but still somehow insanely sexy freshman in his twentieth century American Lit class who he’s been lusting over since the first day of the semester. If there were ever a time for him to be that person who tries to be subtle while taking snaps of other people, this is it.

Love Comes in Spurts by talktowater

Stiles has always had sort of a hero worship thing going on with Scott’s step-brother Derek so moving into a house with him freshman year was basically fulfilling a childhood fantasy. Discovering how Derek was putting himself through college, well that was a whole other fantasy that Stiles didn’t even know he had.

Your First by Simone (fvckyourfandoms)

It’s Stiles freshman year of college and he decides to rush a fraternity. He becomes Vice President Derek Hale’s favorite pledge and they end up much closer than expected.

or

A story in which Derek can’t keep his hands off of Stiles’ sweet, irresistible, virgin ass and fails at not feeling him up.

A Comprehensive Study in Getting a Boyfriend via Persuasive Essay-Writing by Luddleston

Stiles is a junior Journalism major who takes Rhetorical Strategies because it covers his English requirement. He’s also trying to be subtle about the way he keeps checking out his professor.

Derek is a grad student teaching his first class ever. He also has the most annoying student on the face of the planet, and is done reading essays about the history of male circumcision.

Flirty e-mails are exchanged, Stiles spends way too much time in Derek’s office, and they fall in love over a mutual hatred for APA formatting.

take two and hit to right by gottalovev

Stiles enjoys ogling the very handsome shortstop of the varsity team while in class. One day, when he cannot have the seat he prefers to watch the baseball diamond, he starts a conversation on his desk (including cartoon characters and eventually sharing secrets).

Unfortunately, Stiles’ first meeting with the hot shortstop - crowd darling Derek Hale - doesn’t go well. When Hale turns out to be Stiles’ desk pen pal, will they be able to move past first impressions?

If You Wanna Be My Roomie (Lover) by xKookiesandCreamx

Realistically, Stiles knew that the local University’s popularity and commonality meant that many members of his graduating high school class would be starting the Fall 2016 semester alongside him, but he never expected his longtime crush to be one of them. Even more so, he never expected said crush to be assigned as his roommate…oh boy.

Just to See You Again by MellytheHun

A sterek college!AU where writing student Stiles specializes in love letters, runs a blog about it and can be commissioned to write love letters on behalf of lovers who are at a loss for words.

He makes some cash, he’s good at what he does (especially when he gets to be a little more explicit in his letters), it pays for his textbooks and that’s all he’s really looking for and life is fine. That is, until someone anonymously commissions him to write a love letter to mathematics student, Derek Hale.

It’s Happening by isthatbloodonhisshirt

Derek stopped listening to him, brain going a mile a minute.

Derek, it’s fucking happening!Derek, please!

He would recognize that fucking voice anywhere.

Two years. Two fucking years had passed, and now this little shit was standing in front of him, speaking his name, and grinning like an idiot.

“It’s you,” Derek said, earning him a confused look from Stiles. “The phone call. Two years ago. It was you.”

Beauty and the Ex by aggybird

Stiles doesn’t want to screw up his chances with Josh, so he does something he may regret: he goes to Derek Hale, Josh’s intimidating ex-boyfriend, for dating advice.

Things don’t go according to plan. But with a little magic (and werewolves) they might go all right.

We’re caught in stone, you know we might not make it by LunaCanisLupus_22

He does this thing then, while Stiles is watching, rolls his left shoulder a little as if he’s adjusting the books in his arms and suddenly Stiles recognises him from the gesture.

“Oh my god,” he cries, dumping his books, bag and coffee into one big mess on the ground and rushing over to them at once.

Or the one where Derek and Stiles are childhood buddies who lost touch and reconnect by chance at college. Only they end up doing a lot more than just reconnecting.

There is a Brotherhood by minusoneday

So far, college has taught Stiles three things:

1) Eight am classes are cruel and unusual and should be avoided at all costs, even if it means having to enroll in something truly hideous instead, like Econ 101.

2) Dorm security is just as tight as Stiles’ orientation leader had promised it would be, and the dude guarding Scott’s dorm in particular does not respond well to bribes.

3) Mrs. McCall clearly had no clue what she was talking about when she’d insisted that Scott and Stiles needed to branch out and room with strangers, so it’s all her fault that Scott ended up with a total dick of a roommate and Stiles got stuck all the way across campus with some guy who has a girlfriend two towns over and is thus never around.

‘Linski’s Late Night Antidote To Lame by WhoNatural

Where Stiles has his own college radio show, and the mysterious, faceless Derek is his number one fan.

Also there’s this really hot guy he keeps meeting in the library who totally hates his guts.

Inside This Place Is Warm by wolfcloaks

Coming down; One love, two mouths

Stiles Stilinski:

-Senior at Berkley-Double majoring in Human Biology and Biomedical Engineering-Student Librarian-Closet Artist-Basket case extrodanaire-Hopelessly crushing on Derek Hale (read as: pining)

Derek Hale:

-Grad Student at Berkley-Philosophy Major-Dog enthusiast-Does not cry during The Notebook, fuck you,Laura-Is definitely not pining over the librarian with the cute moles-Would very much like to tell the librarian’s curly haired boyfriend to fuck off

Or

Where Derek and Stiles are complete dweebs in love and jump to horribly inaccurate conclusions

Or

When your meet-cute turns into a bit of an (light) angst fest but it’s all ok in the end

———————

If you want to find more college/university goodness you can check out my tag for it here

[cakesunflower]

Not Immune [Greaser!Calum AU] Part 1

Disclaimer: A couple of things: First, this is a one shot, and it’ll probably be only two parts. Second, as you read this you’ll probably see some of the terms are definitely some “1960′s slang” because that’s literally what I Googled looool. Hope you guys enjoy it! Let me know what you think hehehe.

All Parts:  Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 [Finale]

“We were having a blast—what’re you getting ticked off for?”

Y/N rolled her eyes at Joey’s words, her boyfriend’s loud voice superior to the buzz of the cinema they were currently walking through, the smell of buttery popcorn strong as Y/N practically speed walked towards the exit. She was growing more and more irritated by the second, wondering why Joey couldn’t understand she had other obligations than to just hang out with him.

“Because you’re bugging me,” she retorted, pushing the door open and stepping out into the warm summer night air.

She heard Joey scoff behind her as they walked to his parked car and he sarcastically responded, “Excuse me for wanting to hang out with my girl.”

Y/N stopped to glare at him over the front hood of the car, distinctly smelling cigarettes in the air, but too focused on the man across from her to realize the scent was coming from the group of guys hanging around their parked motorcycles a few ways away. “You don’t wanna just hang out. You wanna score. And I told you I have to get back to finish my homework.”

Honestly, what was so hard to understand about that? Y/N enjoyed spending time with Joey, she wouldn’t have been dating him for the past three months if she didn’t, but more often than not he would try to get her to prioritize him over every other responsibility she has in life. Despite her initial hesitance, Y/N had done just that a couple of times, and usually ended up in hot water with her parents or teachers because she would give into Joey’s pleading and spend the time she normally would use to finish assignments on Joey, causing her grades to slip.

Her boyfriend often called her an egg head for her studious nature, but Y/N saw nothing wrong with that, nor did she care for the term. She enjoyed school, and she let Joey pull her attention from it too often. That had to stop.

Joey’s eyes narrowed at her words and she recognized the irritated look on his face. It was one he often got when he got into it with the Greasers on the south side of town, though Y/N never understood why he got so wound up. It was him and the rest of their Prep friends that went looking for trouble with the Greasers. Every time something happened to their cars—or even their faces—Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes, especially when they trash talked and complained about the south siders. What else did they expect the Greasers to do? Y/N could never really voice her opinions on that, being a Prep and all, but it was how she felt.

“So what if I do?” Joey taunted, giving a careless shrug. “A man’s got his needs, you know.”

Y/N’s lips parted slightly at that, knowing there were people around that could most definitely hear their conversation, but more than anything her anger at the man in front of her was rising. “Find someone else to help you with that,” she hissed indignantly. That was it. It only took a few words from Joey, but they were gross and insulting enough for Y/N to want things between them to be finished once and for all.

Joey’s jaw clenched, his own anger showing through, not even trying to save the crumbling relationship as he snapped, “Works for me. Find your own fucking way home.”

He didn’t even give Y/N a chance to react. Within a matter of seconds, Joey unlocked the car and got in, before the engine roared to life and he peeled out of the parking lot, leaving rubber on the road as he drove off without Y/N.

She stood staring after him, jaw dropped and anger replaced by complete disbelief. It was nearing ten thirty at night and he just left her there? Y/N’s heart was pounding in her chest, though she was unsure if it was because of residual anger from their argument or if it was the prickle of fright that rushed through her at the knowledge of being stranded by herself in the middle of town, where the north and south sides met. As much as Y/N liked to think she could protect herself, she was still a seventeen year old girl by herself at night—whether it be Prep or Greaser, there was bound to be some freak lurking in the shadows.

She couldn’t believe Joey would be this big of a dick to split and leave her completely stranded.

Scoffing incredulously, Y/N gave a shake of her head before she started walking, arms tightly crossed over her chest as she made her way down the sidewalk in the direction of her house. She knew it would take about half an hour of walking to get home, since she lived at the peak of the north side, and once again she began cursing Joey in her mind, wondering what she ever saw in someone who would leave a young girl stranded by herself. Did he really not care for her? What if something happened?

Y/N was so lost in her angry thoughts that she hadn’t heard the motorcycle approaching her only a few moments after she started walking, not until whoever it was was riding right next to her at a slow speed. She stopped and the bike did too, looking to her left with widened eyes because only Greasers rode bikes, her heart picking up its pace as panicked thoughts began fluttering through her mind. Shit, this had been exactly what she was afraid of.

But then her eyes shifted to the rider, recognition flashing across her eyes when she took in the boy on the bike, especially when he spoke up in an Australian drawl, “Need a lift?”

Calum Hood.

Y/N stared at him in confusion, truly wondering if she was gassed despite not touching alcohol because that seemed to be the only appropriate explanation as to why Calum would be offering her a ride. She’s only seen him a handful of times over the years because of the social status of the town. Y/N has always kept to the north side; the closest she ever got to the south side was when she went to the cinema, since it was the only one in town and shared with the north and south sides. But she rarely ever saw Calum.

Everyone knew who he was, though. One of the most popular Greasers, a cool guy amongst the south and a badass in the north. However, Y/N knew of him specifically because while Calum was one of the very few Greasers no Prep chanced to confront, he was always the first one Joey went after when he was looking to bother the south siders. So Y/N’s in a bit of shock. She’s had her fair share of encounters with some Greasers, the boys of the south side never truly differentiating between girls and where they lived if they were cute and the boys were interested, but the absolute last person she expected to interact with was Calum Hood, despite Joey’s confrontations with him. Her, now ex, boyfriend was the only one wild enough to try and pick a fight with Calum, despite knowing that the Greaser was the toughest one of them, unafraid to throw a punch and ready to step into a brawl if it meant fighting alongside his friends.

Y/N knew he was tough, knew that him offering a lift was out of the ordinary, especially with her being a Prep. She wants to say no, especially when Joey’s voice is snarling in her head, repeating the words she often heard from him, “Hood’s nothing but a piece of trash Greaser.” But he proved himself to be an even bigger douchebag tonight. So after a few minutes of hesitance, her eyes taking in the expectant quirk of Calum’s eyebrow, his tight pants and leather jacket that seemed too hot for this weather, Y/N found herself asking, “Do you have a helmet?”

If Calum was surprised that she seemed to be actually considering his proposal, he didn’t show it. Instead, he smirked, which unexpectedly caused Y/N’s heart to skip a beat as he assured, “I’ll go real slow.”

Y/N can’t believe that’s all it takes for her to swing her legs over the motorcycle behind him, surprising herself when she realized that she’s not too afraid of riding the vehicle, but wishing she hadn’t worn a dress. Despite it only ending a couple of inches above her knees, she tugged it down as much as she could as a futile attempt to hide her exposed legs as she sat behind Calum, instantly surrounded by the scent of leather, cigarettes, and something that wasn’t too different from fresh rain.

It was a combination she couldn’t help but enjoy, the scent intensifying when she heard Calum say, “Hold on,” after she told him her address. He started the bike again and she instinctively wrapped her arms around his waist as she felt the vehicle move.

Much to Y/N’s surprise, Calum stayed true to his word—the Greaser didn’t go at a dangerously fast speed she knew the south siders often went at, and she found herself enjoying the wind hitting her face and flowing through her hair. For a moment, Y/N forgot she was on the back of a bike of the Greaser she often heard everyone she hung out with bad mouth and curse. She forgot that if anyone saw her she would most likely be in serious trouble if it got back to her parents and the topic of conversation of the north side. But she didn’t care. Not right now.

Not when her arms were wrapped around Calum, her eyes taking in the way his dark curls, which she was surprised to see weren’t styled back like Greasers were known to have. Her eyes then peered around his figure, trailing down to his hand, catching sight of the rings that decorated some of his fingers. Y/N rolled her lips into her mouth; no Prep boy wore rings, so the sight of them on Calum’s fingers was different and, as Y/N realized with a dry throat, damn attractive.

Y/N looked away, watching the street and trees and neighborhoods around her whiz by. It was mostly empty for a Friday night, which was unusual, though Y/N didn’t mind. The quiet of the night, only disturbed by the engine of the bike, was welcomed. Mostly because Y/N had a feeling if someone were to catch sight of her on a motorcycle with a Greaser, it would be the talk of the town.

What would’ve been a thirty minute walk ended up being a near fifteen minute drive, and soon enough Calum was pulling into Y/N’s neighborhood before she told him, “It’s that one. On the left.”

Calum pulled up in front of the house, which was dark save for the front porch light. Y/N knew her parents were asleep, her mom always going to bed early and her father working on Saturdays, and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t totally relieved. She didn’t need her parents catching sight of her getting dropped off by a Greaser, didn’t want to get interrogated about her whereabouts and how she knew the Greaser, even though she didn’t.

Which, now that Y/N thought about it, made her appear quite thick for accepting a ride from someone who she only knew by name and reputation.

Calum hit the kickstand once he killed the ignition, and Y/N placed her hands on Calum’s shoulders before using him as leverage to swing her leg over and expertly get off the bike. She was surprised she hadn’t fallen off or something as she smoothed down her dress, taking a breath as she lifted her gaze to look at Calum.

He sat on the bike, leaned back slightly and hands on the handles, his dark eyed gaze on her as she stood on the sidewalk. Y/N took a good look at him; at his dark eyes and full lips and the tattoos he seemed to have, peeking from underneath the neckline of his white shirt. There was no doubt about it—Calum was definitely the most handsome guy she’s ever laid eyes on, and Y/N almost felt guilty for thinking how attractive she is when she literally just broke up with her boyfriend tonight. But one reminder of Joey’s behavior and words tonight and the guilt was gone as quick as it came.

“Thanks for the ride,” Y/N spoke up with a genuine smile as her eyes met Calum’s dark ones. She knew that there were lots of people that were afraid of this guy, so Y/N felt almost strange for not feeling that same kind of intimidation.

And how could she, when Calum’s eyes that always hardened at the sight of a Prep seemed so soft, like melted chocolate, when he looked at her?  

“No biggie,” Calum shrugged, regarding her thoughtfully. Y/N felt her skin tingle slightly at the way he looked at her, wondering what he could possibly be thinking about, wondering why this unfamiliar feeling was igniting her now, with Calum. She dated Joey for three months and never once felt the excitement at the tip of her nerves like she did in this moment. “Your boyfriend’s a dick.”

Y/N wasn’t even taken aback by his statement, though she was mildly embarrassed that Calum probably heard the exchange between her and Joey earlier. She hadn’t even thought about that, and her cheeks warmed in renewed irritation towards her ex. “Ex-boyfriend,” she clarified with a huff, crossing her arms over her chest and shaking her head as she looked away at nothing in particular, just down the empty street. “Any man who’d leave a girl out alone at night is a piece of trash.”

Calum cracked a smile at her words, the justified outrage clear in her tone. He agreed with her. He’d witnessed the scene between that panty-waist Prep and his girl when he was out smoking with his buddies at the cinema, the two of them too busy getting into it with each other to notice their group, which was funny because every time Joey caught sight of any Greaser, his first instinct was try to start something. But not tonight, not when he was in the middle of it with his girl, whose name Calum knew to be Y/N, since he’s often heard Joey talk about her.

Not that she was his girl anymore. His smile transformed into a smirk as the thought crossed his mind.

“Anyway,” Y/N cleared her throat, her gaze meeting Calum’s once more, her irritation dissipating enough to offer another smile. “Thanks again. I should, uh, head inside.”

Calum nodded, watching as Y/N offered a single wave before turning and walking up the path to the front door. He watched after her, eyes trailing her figure and gaze burning into her back, and as Calum brought up the kickstand, he couldn’t help but call out, “See you around, Prep.”

Y/N paused for a moment right when she got to the porch, feeling a smile tug at her lips as she glanced over her shoulder, catching sight of his silhouette where she left him. “Goodnight, Greaser.”

                                                               *****

There were often times when there was a party in the south side, north siders would end up crashing it just for the fun of it, just to get a rise out of everyone and start trouble. The same was true the other way around, and many of the parties Y/N attended always ended up with Greasers crashing it to start something. Y/N knew Joey to do the same with his friends off on the south side, which she never approved of because why go looking for trouble? She never understood boys and their need to prove who was tougher.

It had been a week since she and Joey broke up, which annoyingly enough became the talk of the school, which she ignored to the best of her abilities. She hadn’t spoken to him since that night outside of the theater, and although it wasn’t surprising, Y/N did felt downcast that it’s been just as long since she’s seen Calum.

That is, until tonight.

Y/N had been enjoying herself with her girlfriends at Harvey Monroe’s house party, not drunk yet still having fun, when shouting that didn’t align with the music playing erupted towards the front of the house. Y/N frowned, one arm linked with her friend Diana, as they stumbled through people to see what was going on.

“Greasers!”

She saw the boys in leather jackets and white shirts show up, heard them yelling and whooping and most definitely crashing the party over enthusiastically, and Y/N’s eyebrows shot up. She was used to this as Diana and a few of her friends pulled her along to leave the house, knowing if this kept up for a few minutes longer then the fuzz was going to show up and she had no intention of getting popped.

But everything was suddenly a mess and during the commotion of hearing loud Greasers and glass shattering and Prep boys trying to kick the Greasers out, she managed to lose her friends. Y/N didn’t understand how that could happen, especially since she stumbled out to the front porch where her friends were going anyway, and looked around to try and find them.

Y/N frowned, flinching when she heard glass shattering once more from somewhere inside the house, running her fingers through her hair before getting shoved into the railing of the wrap around porch, gripping it as she glared at the pair of Greaser and Prep boys throwing punches. Of course.

She needed to get out of here, but how was she supposed to do that when she had no ride home and had no sign of her friends?

Gathering her bearings, Y/N made her way towards the steps, her ears ringing from the commotion going on around her with people yelling and fights breaking out and others trying to escape being collateral damage. She was on the fourth step, just one more to go, when someone collided with her back, forcing a gasp out of her before she lost balance and, before she knew it, was sent tumbling down.

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, dreading the impact of the hard ground, when she felt something wrap around her waist from the front and instead of hitting the ground she hit what felt like a chest. Someone had caught her, and whoever it was stumbled back a step before easily regaining their footing, and suddenly the smell of booze and pot was replaced by cigarettes and leather. And rain.

Opening her eyes, Y/N looked up, throat drying as she realized she was looking up at Calum. The tall, dark haired boy in his signature white shirt and black jacket had his arms wrapped around her waist, peering down at her with brown eyes and slightly furrowed eyebrows. “You good?”

Now I am. But she was too in shock to say anything other than, “Y-Yes.”

She felt his fingers on her waist, which dug into her when she vaguely heard someone shout, “Pigs!”

In the distant, the sound of police sirens could be heard, and suddenly Calum cursed under his breath before one hand let go of her waist, only to grasp onto her own hand as he grunted, “Let’s go.”

And then they were gone.

                                                        *****

“What are we doing here?”

Those were the first five words Y/N uttered since the second Calum pulled her away from Harvey Monroe’s house, onto his motorcycle, and rode off at a speed that had her clutching him as if her life depended on it. It did, in a way. But now they were at Venture Creek, an area in the woods at the south side of town that Y/N had obviously never been to, but was now unexpectedly visiting.

Not to mention it was nearing eleven-thirty at night and Y/N had never been to the south side before, so to say she was a bit apprehensive and nervous would be an understatement. She didn’t know why Calum brought her here, neither of them had spoken a word to each other—Calum didn’t seem like the talkative type, Y/N had quickly deduced, and it wasn’t helping her increasing anxiousness.

“’M not gonna kill you; no need to get rattled,” came Calum’s bemused response, bringing Y/N’s gaze over to him. He sat down on the ground where grass met gravel on the creek shore, bringing his knees up to rest his arms on top.

Y/N bristled at his words, eyebrows twitching into a frown. “I wasn’t thinking that,” she defended, uncomfortable with herself that such a thought even crossed her mind. But she was a girl, alone in the middle of the woods with a guy she didn’t know. Greaser or Prep, Y/N would’ve been reluctant to be here anyway.

Calum snored at her response, turning his head to look out at the water. It was dark, but the moon was full and bright, right above the creek that was surrounded by trees yet was allowed ample moonlight. The water shimmered, and Y/N couldn’t help but think it was beautiful as she found herself walking over to Calum.

He didn’t glance at her as she settled down next to him, her skirt forcing her to lay her legs out in front of her, grass and gravel biting into her skin. Though, she didn’t find herself caring much as she asked again, “So? Why are we here?”

Calum was silent for a moment and Y/N didn’t think he would respond until his smooth voice said, “I like the quiet.”

Y/N looked at him, eyebrows rising in mild disbelief, taking in the sharpness of his jaw and dark eyes glinting against the moonlight. However, she couldn’t mask her surprise well enough as she asked, “Really?” Somehow she doubted a Greaser would prefer the quiet over anything else.

“Yeah.” Calum rolled his eyes, casting a boyish, heart stopping smirk her way as he said, “I like parties and fucking with your Preps but bailing to enjoy a peace of mind is better than all that.”

Not for the first time, Y/N was surprised by Calum. She was led to believe, and what she’s witnessed only attested to that, that all Greasers were wild and looking to get into it with anyone who looked their way wrong. Especially Calum, from what she heard Joey and her other guy friends say. But already he’s come to her rescue twice and she was beginning to push away the many things she had heard against Calum Hood.

Looking out at the water, Y/N mused, “For someone who says he likes the quiet, your wild reputation contradicts you.”

“A guy can be both.”

A smile spread on Y/N’s lips, taking a breath as she consequently inhaled the mixture of scents Calum carried, the combination Y/N decided that she quite enjoyed. Lifting her chin slightly, Y/N hummed, “A Greaser who likes trouble and peace. Interesting.”

Calum heard the teasing undertone in her voice, returning it with his own words of, “A Prep who doesn’t look at a Greaser and think scum. Even more interesting.”

Y/N laughed at that, shaking her head as she leaned back with her hands bracing her on the grass behind her, as Calum glanced at her with a small smile tilting at his lips as he listened to her laugh. What a pretty fucking laugh the chick had.

And then they talked. For probably the first time, a Greaser and a Prep sat side by side and talked to each other about themselves, about their lives. Only right now, they weren’t a Greaser and a Prep. They were just a boy and a girl who were never around each other but were finding contentment in each other’s company, listening intently to the words being spoken in the otherwise quietness of the creek.

Y/N talked about what she hoped to study and Calum told her about his own passions, she spoke of her parents and he brought up his three best friends that he lived with. They sat talking for who knows how long, getting to know more and more about each other, and it wasn’t lost on either of them how easy this was. The rivalry between Greasers and Preps has been long and withstanding, yet somehow it seemed like none of that existed right here.

Neither of them tried to think of how, during their conversations, they started to feel as though something was there. A kind of connection neither of them expected, but didn’t question as they kept talking, kept listening, kept enjoying the company they had. Y/N didn’t feel an ounce of uneasiness, and Calum, for the first time, was enjoying someone else’s company other than his buddies.

There was a lull in the conversation, both of them looking at the water and the moon and listening to the light breeze rustling the leaves. Though, it only lasted for a few moments until, with her eyes still on the creek, Y/N pondered out loud, “Do you think the water’s cold?”

Calum spared her a glance. “Dunno,” he answered truthfully.

Y/N twisted her lips to the side, eyes narrowing briefly before she stood up. She felt Calum’s gaze on her as she toed off her flats before making her way towards the water, feeling the gravel bite the soles of her feet before the sand of the shore started softening her feet. The water met her skin, not too cold, probably the same temperature as she took her showers on a day where neither hot or cold water seemed appealing to her.

She took a few more steps forward until the water came up to her ankles, before turning to face Calum, who was still sitting down, eyes on her. “It’s nice,” she informed him.

He raised his eyebrows as the moonlight glinted against the rings on his fingers. “So what now?”

Y/N paused, pressing her tongue against her cheek as her thoughts ran through her mind. She knew exactly what she wanted to do, but actually doing it was something she was unsure of fulfilling. Y/N was anything but shy and she had only become increasingly aware of her attraction to the dark haired boy throughout their conversations, so really. . . There was nothing stopping her.

So, she undid the button of her skirt, gaze never leaving Calum as she saw the way his eyebrows rose, the surprised and disbelieving expression on his face clear as day as she pulled the skirt down her legs before stepping out of it, making sure she didn’t get it wet before tossing it back on the shore. It landed right next to Calum, but he paid it no mind, eyes glued on Y/N, who had a small smirk curling at her lips, goose bumps from pure excitement raising on her skin as she grabbed the hem of her loose spaghetti strapped tank top.

She didn’t know what had come over her, didn’t know what made her want to strip into nothing but her underwear in front of a boy she’s only met twice but already knew almost as well as she knew some of her closest friends. But there was just something about Calum. Something about the way he listened to her, talked to her, looked at her that made her want him to keep looking at her, to never waver his gaze.

She wanted him. That much she was completely sure of.

Lifting her top over her head, Y/N threw that too to join her skirt, left standing in her underwear as she began taking a few steps backwards, further into the creek. Calum’s eyes were still on her, taking in the sight in front of him, and Y/N’s smirk widened as she answered his question, “Now we swim,” before purposefully falling into the water, dunking herself underneath.

She swam further away for a bit, heart pounding because she really just stripped in front of him, hoping that she hadn’t just embarrassed herself in front of arguably one of the most attractive boys she’s ever met. Truth be told, Y/N was almost afraid of resurfacing, unsure what would be waiting for her when she did, until the choice of the matter was taken from her altogether.

For the second time that night, arms wrapped around Y/N’s waist, this time for behind, and she held her breath despite her shock as she was pulled up. She let out a gasp once air was available to her, pushing her hair out of her face as she turned around in the water, catching her breath when, under the moonlight, her eyes adjusted to what she was looking at.

A boyish, yet devilish, grin on Calum’s handsome face, brown eyes bright under the moonlight and dark hair wet and sticking to his forehead as he looked at her. Water droplets on his face, Calum raised one hand to slick his hair back, while Y/N could still feel his other arm around her waist. Her heart was hammering in her chest as she looked up at him, before her gaze began wandering.

She noticed the cross necklace he wore as well as the tattoos on his skin, the ink decorating his collarbones and arm. He was practically glowing under the moonlight, his front pressed against hers, providing a warmth she hadn’t expected but welcomed nonetheless. Y/N’s eyes then raised to Calum’s lips, which appeared extremely inviting and unfairly pink, and she could feel her heart picking up its pace even more.

His grip around her waist tightened as he pulled her even closer, as if there was any space between them in the first place, and Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat as her eyes met his. Despite the comforting temperature of the water and the warmth of Calum’s body, goose bumps raised on Y/N’s skin, especially when Calum muttered, “I can do you one better.”

And then he truly closed the distance between them, lips finding hers in a heated kiss that that Y/N instantly melted into. Her hands gripped his biceps, feeling the muscles underneath as she kissed him back, her lips parting instantly when Calum’s tongue slid across. Every other thought escaped Y/N’s mind as he kissed her, all of her attention on him and the way his lips moved with hers and his hands gripped her thighs as he wrapped her legs around his hips, his rings biting into her skin deliciously.

The creek wasn’t too deep, enough for Calum’s feet to actually touch the bed of it, and so as his tongue met Y/N’s in a fiery dance, he moved them until they were towards the end of the body of water, familiar enough with it to move them to a spot where he could press Y/N against the particularly large boulder as they remained in the water. She paid no mind to the roughness of the rock on her back, too focused on the hands and body against her as she lost herself in the feeling of Calum.

He broke the kiss a few moments later, his lips leaving searing kisses down her jaw and neck, finding the spot that made her tilt her head back easily as Y/N felt his teeth and tongue, definitely intending to leave marks that she had no issue wearing. Her hand found the back of his head, fingers gripping the wet strands as Calum’s lips worked on her skin, her mouth parting with an expelled breath.

Her eyes opened, dazedly staring up at the moon shining down on them, her heart hammering and her skin on fire and fingers tightening on Calum’s wet hair caused by the pleasure she was already experiencing. She’s only felt his lips and Y/N’s head was already spinning and she was desperate to feel more. So much more.

“Tell me somethin’,” Calum rasped, using his grip on her thighs to lift her higher in the water, nipping at Y/N’s collarbone. “You ever been with a Greaser, sweetheart?”

Y/N wanted to laugh at that, though the sound was stilted when she felt one of Calum’s hands leave her, shifting between them and her hazy mind registered he was pulling down his boxers. She then felt his fingers tease the waistband of her own underwear, stomach clenching when he moved the material aside. But she was too busy feeling the anticipation rush through her veins to answer Calum’s question, only being able to let out a quiet whimper when his fingers dug into her skin.

He smirked against her at her lack of answer. And then he slammed into her.

She hadn’t been with a Greaser before, but there was always a first time for everything.

tags: @gotta-try-something-new @crownedbyluke @lipstickstainfading @angelbbycal @cals-babylons @irwinkitten @spookyashton @luke-0-lantern @vaporlewk @perfectlycake @tothemoonmikey @kaloncal @calumh-excess @bitchinbabylon @calistajs @grreatgooglymoogly @calumthoodsyonce @biggestslutforcalum @cosmixcalum @babygirlcashton @thebodaciouscth

[jade4813]

A Lie, Told Often Enough, Chapter 10

Author Notes: Inspired by @fallinginloveinaflash‘s AU prompt. All credit for the idea goes entirely to her.

Title: A Lie, Told Often Enough

Rating: NC-17

Synopsis: Iris just landed her dream job at a PR firm and her first assignment is reforming the bad boy image of celebrity artist Barry Allen. He’s overly cocky and well-known for being a playboy, but Iris has never met a challenge she couldn’t handle.

Chapters: 10/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

“So, is there anything I should know before we do this?” Iris asked, shifting the weight of her overnight bag in one hand as she looked at the front door in dread. Nora and Henry Allen had invited them over for dinner, but Barry had suggested they spend the night while they were there. As he explained, he liked to take the opportunity to get away whenever possible. Unable to come up with an excuse to decline, Iris had reluctantly agreed.

Barry smiled and squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to be nervous. They’re going to love you, you know.” Then, after a pause, he added reassuringly, “They know the truth about us, remember?”

Though she nodded, his words did little to reassure her. His parents may have been told that their relationship was a sham, but unless they had never heard of the Internet, they also had to have seen the speculation about the two of them that morning. It wasn’t unusual for women to change dresses between the Prescott dinner and private birthday celebration. However, more than one eagle eyed fan had noticed that Barry had also changed shirts, and that had led to a flurry of speculation and innuendo.

The fact that the speculation was more or less accurate didn’t help Iris’s nerves. She had no compunction against lying to Mason as she had that morning, pretending that it was all part of her plan. It seemed underhanded, though, to do so to Barry’s parents.

Though it would probably be more mortifying to tell the truth.

It seemed silly to tell Barry all of that, however, so when he asked if she was ready, she put on a brave face and nodded. Before she could second-guess her decision, Barry threw open the door without so much as a knock and escorted her inside. “Mom! Dad! We’re here!”

“Barry!” An attractive older woman with auburn hair turned from the table and rushed towards them, pulling her son into a tight hug. An older man with a warm smile finished placing a serving bowl in the center of the table and then followed. Iris hung back, dropping her bag in the corner. She was unwilling to intrude on the moment, but when she thrust her hand forward to shake her hosts’ in greeting, they pulled her in to a hug instead.

When the immediate chaos died down, she found herself being herded towards the table by Barry’s mom, while Barry was engrossed in conversation with his dad. Scrambling for her manners, she finally offered, “Ah, you have a beautiful home. Sorry we’re late, by the way, Mrs. Allen.”

“Nora, please,” her hostess corrected her warmly. “And I’ll tell you a secret. Henry and I are well aware that our son has never been on time to anything in his life. We always tell him to come over a half hour earlier than we need him to be here. If you ever need him to show up anywhere on time, I highly recommend you try it – though don’t tell him I said so.”

Iris smiled. “I’ll bear that in mind, though he’s better with that than he used to be. When we first met, getting him to show up on time for an appointment was like pulling teeth. He’s gotten pretty punctual lately. Well, except when it involved work,” she amended with a chuckle.

“Oh, really? Well, you must be a good influence, then,” Nora remarked as she showed Iris to her seat. “Henry? Barry? Come sit! The food is getting cold!”

Iris lapsed into contented silence as Barry took his seat next to her. She was more than happy to let him take charge of the conversation, spending the next few minutes catching up with his parents. It wasn’t long, however, before his mother redirected the conversation back to her.

“So. Iris. Tell us more about yourself. Did you always want to be a publicist?”

She shook her head. “No, actually. If you can believe it, I used to want to be a cop. But, well…” Trailing off, she gestured at herself. “As you can see, I don’t exactly meet the minimum height and weight requirements. Then I thought I might want to go into journalism, but that isn’t exactly a growing field right now. Being a publicist, well…it allows me to do what I love in telling other people’s stories. Just in a different way.”

“Have you been in the business long?” Nora prompted as she passed Henry the mashed potatoes.

Iris shook her head, shifting slightly under the weight of Nora’s regard. “Not too long, I suppose. I interned with Mason – my boss – in college, and I’ve been working with him officially for a little while now. But actually, Barry’s my first real client.” Belatedly, she realized that she’d intentionally not told him that, but she simply threw him a small smile and an apologetic shrug. It wasn’t like he could exactly fire her now. He simply rolled his eyes at her in an exaggerated motion and shook his head.

“And how do you like it so far? Being a publicist, I mean.”

Before Iris could answer, Barry laughed and asked in a teasing tone, “Mom, do you want to lighten up a bit? I’ve heard less intense interrogations than you’re putting Iris through right now.”

Nora snorted. “It is not that bad!” she protested.

“Are you sure? Because I’m about to go get the lamp from the living room so you can shine it directly into her face and really give her the full experience. Do you – do you want me to go get it? I’ll go get it,” Barry offered, rising partway to his feet.

His mother laughed and shook her head. “Well, maybe if you brought women by more often, I wouldn’t be so out of practice!” she chided him.

Barry snorted. “You’ve never invited another woman over before now,” he pointed out.

“If I’d ever thought any of the women you dated before now were special to you, I would have!” she protested. Iris stiffened slightly, and when Barry threw his mother a wide-eyed stare, she continued quickly, “Not that you and Iris are really dating, of course. Your friends are always welcome. You know that.”

“This chicken is fantastic, honey. You really outdid yourself this time,” Henry interjected, smoothly deflecting the conversation from the peculiar nature of their son’s relationship. Iris felt herself relax at the change of subject. Over the remainder of the meal, the conversation shifted to Barry’s upcoming tour and newest album.

After dinner, however, when she reached to take the plates into the kitchen, Henry quickly moved to intercept her. “Oh, no you don’t. In this house, when one of us cooks, the other cleans. You go have a seat in the living room and relax.” Raising his voice pointedly at his son, he joked, “I’m going to see if my son still remembers how to wash a dish or if he’s gotten too spoiled in his life as a superstar.”

Barry raised his voice in mock affront, but when Iris hesitated, wondering if she should argue the point, Henry winked at her. “Nora doesn’t bite. I promise.”

She laughed good-naturedly. “I’m not worried,” she lied, letting him shoo her into the other room. Once in the living room, she paused long enough to peruse the photos hung on the walls. “You have a beautiful family,” she remarked to the older woman as she entered the room.

Nora glowed with maternal pride as she followed Iris’s gaze. “Thank you,” she murmured. “I worry sometimes about the life Barry leads, but his father and I are very proud of him.”

Iris threw his mother a quick glance over her shoulder. “It’s a different kind of world he lives in, I know. But you don’t have to worry. Barry’s…he’s wonderful. I doubt celebrity has changed him that much.”

She could feel his mother’s eyes on her as she replied, “No, I suppose not. But I worry sometimes that it’s made him closed off. Lonely. He’s never had the easiest time letting people in. These last few years…I’ve worried it’s gotten harder for him. I wish he could find happiness, but I wonder if he’d even let himself. I think he doesn’t think it’s even possible, with the life he leads.”

Iris didn’t know how to respond to that, so she simply turned her attention back to the pictures. “Did he always want to be a musician?” she asked, staring at a picture of a little tousle-haired boy with a too-large guitar on his lap.

Nora made a soft sound. “Oh, no. He used to talk about being a physicist. He and Cisco started their band in college, as just a way to blow off steam. They had just started getting some attention when Cisco sold his first invention and decided to pursue a career as an engineer. Of course, he still helps Barry out with the music when he can. They still write songs together. But I think sometimes Barry misses those days in college, when it was just the two of them, having fun together.”

Iris mulled over his mother’s words as she stared at a photo of Barry and Cisco side by side in their graduation gowns. He looked so carefree and happy. Iris had never seen that smile on his face before – at least, she hadn’t until he walked through his parents’ front door. Watching him joke around with his parents, she realized she was seeing a side to him she’d never seen before.

The next picture made her laugh – Barry at around seven years old, dressed in a superhero cape as he threw the camera a cheesy smile. “This one’s my favorite,” he remarked.

His mom chuckled. “If you like that, I have some others you should see. Hold on. I’ve got Barry’s baby book around here somewhere –”

Eager to see Barry as a little boy, Iris moved to the couch, where she sat and waited to get a glimpse of her pseudo-boyfriend as a little boy. A mischievous grin crossed her face when she pictured the expression on Barry’s face when he saw what she and his mother had been up to while he was otherwise occupied.

“So, Iris seems nice,” Henry remarked in a mild voice as he passed his son a soapy dish.

Barry shot him a look out of the corner of his eye. “We’re not really dating, you know,” he reminded his father.

“Are you sure about that?” Throwing Barry a quick look, he explained, “I’ve see the way you look at her.”

He sighed. “I’m sure. I mean, I like her. But she’s made it pretty clear she has no intention of falling in love with me.” At his father’s laugh, he frowned. “What?”

The older man shook his head. “Just remembering that there was once I time I felt much the same way. I was planning to go to medical school, and love presented a complication I was sure I didn’t need.”

“So what happened?”

Henry grinned. “I would like to see anyone resist your mother. I was in love with her before I even knew what hit me.”

Barry snorted. “Yeah? Well…Iris doesn’t seem to have that problem.”

His father lifted one shoulder in a slight shrug. “If you say so. But, like I said. She seems nice.”

Uncertain if he wanted to push the point, Barry let it go and changed the subject. However, he was still thinking about their peculiar conversation a few minutes later when he walked towards the living room, eager to see what Iris had gotten up to in his absence. When he saw the baby book spread open on her lap, however, his jaw dropped.

“Mom, I – Iris has barely been here for an hour and you’re already showing her my baby book?” he demanded in feigned indignation. Stepping closer, he saw that Iris was laughing at a picture of him as a little boy, dressed in nothing but a t-shirt as he pouted over a bowl of oatmeal. “Oh my god,” he breathed, feeling his face go crimson.

“You were an adorable little boy!” his mom protested.

“Do you still eat breakfast without pants on?” Iris asked with an overly-innocent grin.

Barry huffed. “You know, I’ve worked very hard to craft a certain image. Ten minutes at home, and my mom completely obliterates it.”

Iris snorted. “No don’t be silly! I –” Looking at a picture of him at the height of his awkward teenage years, she cracked up. “Nope. Sorry. I can’t do it. I can’t lie. Your image as a rock god is totally shot. I’m never getting this picture out of my head.”

“That’s it,” Barry growled, pulling his baby book off her lap before sweeping her into his arms. “I’m getting you out of here before mom shows you my naked baby pictures. Mom, Dad, if you need us, we’ll be watching movies in the guest room until Iris forgets the horror she has just seen.”

Iris gasped, though she only put up a token protest as he carried her towards the guest room. “You have naked baby pictures? I want to see! Henry, distract Barry! Nora, bring me the naked baby pictures!”

“Don’t listen to her! She’s delirious!” Barry shouted over his shoulder, over the sound of Iris’s shrieks of protest. They were both laughing when he tossed her onto the bed, falling onto the mattress next to her. “I can’t believe she did that,” he huffed, though his smile belied his irritation.

“What? Those pictures were adorable! The one of you dressed like a zombie for Halloween -?”

He groaned. “Don’t remind me.” Throwing his arm over her, he pinned her to the mattress. “Keep this up and I’m going to have to do something drastic to distract you.”

Iris tried to throw him a grave look, but the corners of her lips still twitched with mirth. After a moment, she giggled and shook her head. “Nope. Sorry. Can’t do it. I know you’re trying to be all grumpy and serious, but that image is ruined now.”

Barry thrust his lower lip out in an exaggerated pout. “No! Don’t laugh! I’m intense and filled with angst! And arrogance! You’re supposed to fear me! Fear me, darn it! I’m a rock god!”

It was enough to send her over the edge, and Barry couldn’t help but grin down at her as she laughed until tears came to her eyes. Once she finally caught her breath, she lifted one hand to his cheek. “You know, I think I finally found him. The real Barry Allen.”

His smile falling, Barry stared at her with guarded eyes. “And what’s the verdict? You want to be his friend?”

Iris bit her lower lip and her eyes were troubled as her gaze swept her face. Finally, she gave an almost imperceptible nod and scraped her teeth against her lower lip. “Yeah,” she agreed in a voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah, I do.”

Unable to resist, Barry ducked his head and brushed a kiss against her lips. They had agreed they would keep their relationship professional this evening, but surely she wouldn’t begrudge him one small slip. Indeed, she let out a deep sigh and melted into his kiss, pulling him closer.

Before things could progress any further, Barry pulled away and rolled off her, distracting the both of them as he turned on the television and flipped through the channels until he came across an old black and white monster movie. Iris curled up against his side, resting her head on his shoulder. Comforted by the steady rise and fall of her breath against his side, Barry felt his usual stress and tensions seep out of his body. He stroked one hand lazily up and down her spine as they settled in to watch the movie.

Later that evening, when it was time to turn in, Barry shifted to pull away, intending to return to his bedroom. However, before he could move, Iris wrapped her fingers in his shirt and held tight. “No,” she breathed. “Don’t go. Stay here with me tonight?”

Barry caught his breath. “Are you sure?” he murmured, almost unable to believe his ears.

Her hand trembled slightly against his heart, but her gaze was steady when she nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure. Just for tonight. Stay with me?”

Unable to trust himself to speak, Barry simply nodded and leaned back against the pillows. He couldn’t deny her this. He suspected he couldn’t deny her anything.

The next morning, Iris awoke to the warmth of cotton against her cheek. She froze, suspecting she knew what she would find when she opened her eyes. For this last moment, she wanted to embrace the fantasy. But eventually, she had to face the truth, and so she opened her eyes.

And found herself in bed alone.

Her heart lurched, her stomach twisting into a knot, when the bedroom door opened and Barry walked in. He was still dressed in the worn t-shirt and sweat pants he’d changed into before bed the night before, his hair still rumpled from sleep. In his hand, he carried two large mugs of coffee. “Morning. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

Her heartbeat returning to normal, Iris breathed a heavy sigh. “Oh, thank god,” she groaned as she grabbed for the coffee. “You’re a lifesaver.”

Barry quirked his eyebrows up at her, holding the coffee mug just out of reach. “And a rock god?”

Iris laughed and lunged for the delicious black brew, both surprised and pleased to find he’d fixed it just the way she liked it. “We’ll see. The jury’s still out. Your mom isn’t done showing me pictures.”

“Oh, my god. I knew introducing the two of you was a mistake,” he grumbled as he lowered himself on the mattress next to her. “They asked if we wanted to spend the day with them, but I’m not sure I want to risk it.”

“Aw, poor Barry. You –”

Before she could continue, there was a knock on the door. Henry stood in the doorway, looking far more alert at this early hour than either Iris or Barry could so much as contemplate. “Hey. There’s a Mason Bridge at the door? He wanted to speak with the two of you.”

Iris went from amused to anxious in less than a heartbeat. Feeling slightly nauseated, she threw a quick glance at the clock. Mason was there to see them before eight in the morning? That couldn’t possibly be good. Had something happened? Was she about to get fired? Not daring to look Barry’s way, she threw Henry a tight smile. “Oh. Thank you. Let him know I’ll be right there.”

Whatever had prompted this visit, it couldn’t possibly be good.