#this man just keeps playing hickey they even called him a rat again

[noeavoiding]

Adam Nagaitis as Franny || The Responder Series 2

[drabbles-mc]

Try Again

Kozik x OFC (Tawnie Trager) (ft. Dad!Tig Trager)

Request by Anon: Kozik x female reader, where reader is Tig's first daughter (bit older than the twins, called Tawnie for lols) and no-one knows they're together, until Kozik overhears Gemma question Tawnie about the hickeys - who is like "I'm not sure whether to be mad that they're there, or mad that they're not that good" and then Kozik is pretty much like, 'challenge accepted', and Tig catches them when Kozik tries to leave better ones...?

Prequel can be found Here

Warnings: language, alcohol, slight steam

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: I changed it to an OFC because the prompt felt almost a little too specific to keep it as a reader-insert lol. Hope you don’t mind! Also, y’all really like seeing Kozik come within an inch of his life with Dad!Tig lmaoooo love it

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She walked into the office with a box of files in her hands. Setting it down on Gemma’s desk, she let out a sigh. Rolling and cracking her neck, she pulled her hair back for a moment to help cool down. Normally she wouldn’t be caught dead with her hair down in the middle of summer, but things had gotten a little heated the night before and Kozik had left a scattering of hickeys on the side of her neck. The rule was always to keep it below the collar but they both got a little wrapped up in things. It wasn’t a huge deal when it happened for him—he could blame it on any of the women who hung around the clubhouse. But for her it was a bit of a tougher situation.

Her father had made it clear from the get-go that she and both of her sisters were off-limits to every man in the club. Even men who were friends of the club. No one was to do so much as toss a wink or a potentially flirtatious comment their way. And for as much as she tried to tell her father that he was being ridiculous, that she was a grown woman who could and would make her own decisions, he never budged. After all, Tig had never been known for being a man to compromise.

So it was bad enough that she was sneaking behind her father’s back with someone in the club. What made it even worse was the fact that it was the one person in the MC that he couldn’t stand. She didn’t even remember how her and Kozik fell into the situation that they were in. He was always friendly with her, but he was one of the most cautious around her because he knew that Tig wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet in him if he so much as thought Kozik was hitting on his daughter. And yet, somehow that flipped completely around and the two of them were sneaking off whenever the situation allowed for it.

The last few months were playing at hyper-speed in her mind as she let herself breathe for a moment in the privacy of Gemma’s office. She was staring blankly down at the box that she had just brought in, too zoned out to notice the fact that Gemma had walked in behind her.

“Well, well, well,” Gemma chuckled as she walked up behind her, “What’d you get yourself into last night, T?”

Fear shot down her spine and she instantly let her hair go, “What?”

Gemma shook her head, “Too late to hide it now, sweetheart,” she brushed her hair out of the way to get a better look at her neck, “Since you’re busted, you gotta tell me,” she leaned back against the desk, “Who done it, Tawnie?”

She rolled her eyes, “You cannot tell my dad.”

Gemma chuckled, “What Tig doesn’t know won’t hurt him. So,” she nudged Tawnie’s shoulder, “spill the beans, sweetheart.”

Kozik was about to walk in to ask Gemma about something when he heard the two of them talking. He stopped himself, lurking right outside the door. He was curious to see how the conversation was going to go—he wanted to know if Tawnie would actually confide in someone about the two of them. He’d been good, he hadn’t told a single soul about the two of them being together. It was too small of a town and word traveled way too fast. His days were numbered as it was and he didn’t want to shorten his lifespan any more than necessary by having Tig find out that he was hooking up with his daughter.

Tawnie sighed, running her hands down her face, “Kozik.”

Gemma’s eyes went wide, “Honey, why do you want him to get the shit kicked out of him?”

She laughed, “I don’t! I don’t. Please, please don’t tell my dad.”

“I won’t,” Gemma shook her head slightly, “How’d that happen, anyway?”

She shrugged, feeling the heat rise slightly in her cheeks, “I don’t really know. It all sorta just…fell together.”

“How long?”

She paused, not wanting to admit how long they’d been hiding it, “Couple months.”

“A couple months?” Gemma chuckled and shook her head, “You’ve been sneaking around for a couple months and the man still can’t leave a proper hickey?”

She laughed, giving her a playful shove, “Gemma!”

“What? I’m just saying,” she glanced at her neck, “I could leave a better one than that. And your father would be much less pissed off about it.”

“You gonna give him a how-to manual, Gemma?”

She shook her head, “That’s something he’s gotta learn on his own, sweetheart.”

She laughed, “Is that something you’d like updates on?”

Gemma smiled as she fixed Tawnie’s hair, covering back up the marks on her neck, “You won’t need to tell me—I’ll see it for myself.”

There were a few beats of silence before she spoke up again, “Thank you for, y’know, not ratting me out to my dad.”

She smiled, “The girls gotta stick together.”

Taking that as her cue to leave, Tawnie made her way towards the office door. Kozik heard the sound of her footsteps and tried to back off enough so that it wouldn’t seem obvious that he was waiting right outside the door for her. Despite the distance, though, his face gave him away. She could tell from his expression that he was trying to cover for himself, which meant that he had most definitely heard her conversation with Gemma. She felt a little bad, but she also wanted to see what he was going to say.

“Oh, hey,” she smiled, tilting her head slightly, “You good?”

He nodded, “Yea, I’m…I’m good. Is, uh, is Gemma in there?”

So he was going to play it off for the time being. Two could play at that game. She nodded, “Yea, just got in.”

“Alright, cool. Thanks. I’ll see you later?”

She nodded, “Yea of course. You gonna be around tonight for the party?”

“Are you?”

She smiled, “I think so.”

A smirk passed over his face for a moment, “Then I think so too.”

The day went by quickly. She kept herself busy with random things around the garage and the clubhouse. Normally she’d be getting her hands dirty working on whatever needed repairs, but if she couldn’t tie her hair back out of the way, she wasn’t even going to bother. It would’ve been more trouble than it was worth.

She was helping bring in a few cases of beer as people started showing up for the party. It was dark out by that point, music and loud conversations already starting to flow out through the walls of the clubhouse. She smiled and shook her head to herself as she bumped the door open with her hip.

“T,” Jax appeared on the other side of the bar from her and gave his most charming smile, “grab me a beer, please?”

She rolled her eyes but did as he asked. She popped the top off of it before handing it to him, “I’m not a bartender, Teller.”

“If you’re on that side of the bar, you’re a bartender. Those are the rules.”

She laughed and shook her head before grabbing a beer for herself, “Guess you can carry your own shit in next time.”

Making her way back to the side of the bar that wouldn’t land her with more responsibilities, she looked around the clubhouse. Everyone was hanging out having a good time. A few of the guys were playing pool, and some of them already had women draped over their laps. She chuckled as she sat herself down on a stool at the bar. Pressing the beer bottle to her lips, she silently looked for Kozik in the midst of the chaos.

They locked eyes from across the room. He was sitting on the sofa, one of the women from Cara Cara tucked underneath his arm. She almost felt herself getting jealous, but when he smiled at her all of those feelings faded away. They both knew that the price of keeping their relationship a secret was having to allow a certain amount of flirtation from the people around them. He never got too close with any of the women who hung around the clubhouse, but he couldn’t be too cold and dismissive without at least one of the guys giving him shit about it.

Tawnie refused to break eye contact as she took a long drink from her beer bottle. She could see it in his eyes that even though the party had barely started, he already wanted to leave with her. She would’ve been up for that, too, if he asked. But she knew that he wouldn’t. She contented herself with keeping an eye on everyone around her.

Tig walked up, throwing a loving arm around his daughter’s shoulders, “How you doin’, doll?”

She chuckled and leaned against him for a moment, giving him a side-hug, “I’m good, Dad. Enjoying the party?”

“Always,” he laughed, “But are you?”

She chuckled, nodding, “You know me—I’m more than happy to just sit back and watch everyone else get into trouble.”

“Good way to stay out of it.”

“Exactly,” she gave him a playful nudge, “Go keep the boys in line, alright?”

He smiled, pressing a brief kiss to the top of her head, “Love you, T.”

“Love you too,” she laughed as he took off into the fray of things.

Once the party had really gotten underway, Kozik made his way over to her. It felt safer to be closer when there was so much else going on around them—they weren’t on anyone’s radar. He leaned in close so that only she could hear him. At first it was just jokes, off-hand comments about what was going on around them. She’d laugh and shake her head, and Kozik could swear that he’d never heard a better sound.

“Think we could sneak out for a bit?” he asked.

She looked at him, eyebrows raised, “Oh?”

He nodded, “Yea,” he pushed her hair back behind her shoulder, “because apparently I have some work to make up for.”

Heat rushed to her face and she wanted to hide behind her hands. Even though she knew that he had heard the conversation with Gemma, talking about it was an entirely different thing. She looked up at him, a nervous smile on her face.

“I didn’t say—”

“Don’t even,” he laughed and shook his head.

She laughed as well, knowing that there was no trying to soften the blow to his ego. He seemed to be handling it just fine, though. They both looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to them before sneaking back towards the dorms.

Once they were in the hall, out of the main cluster of the clubhouse, Kozik instantly had his hands all over her. He walked up behind her, sliding his hands up her sides beneath her top. Without thinking about it, she melted back into him, reaching back with one hand to trail her fingers down the side of his face. His fingers gripped onto her side as he kissed along her shoulder. He spun her around so that her chest was pressed against his, pushing her back against the wall.

He crashed his lips into hers as he pinned her to the wall. She gripped the edges of his kutte and attempted to pull him as close as she possibly could. They knew it was reckless to not even bother waiting to get to his dorm, but she wasn’t in the mood to be telling him to stop. Any and all responsible thoughts left her brain the second he bit down on her bottom lip.

He pulled his lips off of hers, trailing them down along her jaw and peppering her with kisses all along the way. She couldn’t help but to smile as he placed a kiss on her neck, “Gonna give it another shot?”

His laughter vibrated against her skin, “I feel like I have to. Can’t let Gemma disrespect me like that.”

She laughed and was about to make a smart remark when she felt his teeth against the sensitive skin of her neck. Her fingers wound their way into his hair, eyes fluttering shut as his hand slipped up the front of her shirt as he continued to suck a dark mark into the side of her throat. His name was about to fall from her lips in a quiet moan when their moment was interrupted.

“What the fuck is this?” Tig snapped, eyes darting back and forth between the two of them.

Kozik immediately backpedaled, nearly plastering himself against the opposite wall from Tig’s daughter. Tawnie’s face was flushed, hair and shirt a mess as she tried to look anywhere but into the eyes of her dad. She knew it was their own doing, but she still didn’t want to have to have this conversation with him.

“You’re a dead motherfucker,” within a split second Tig was charging at Kozik,

“Dad!” Tawnie jumped in, barely being able to wedge herself between the two men before serious damage was done, “Dad, stop!” she shoved him backwards with all the strength she could muster.

Tig’s chest was heaving as he looked down at his daughter, “What the fuck, T?”

“You don’t get to tell me who I can and can’t see,” she sounded much more confident than she really felt.

“This,” he pointed at Kozik, “is not a good choice, Tawnie.”

“You don’t get to decide that for me!”

Kozik’s eyes were bouncing back and forth between the two Tragers. It wasn’t often that he saw Tawnie get heated and defensive about things. He’d certainly never pictured her speaking like that to her own father. He wanted to step in and say something but he had the feeling that that was only going to make it worse.

“And you,” Tig’s eyes bored into his, “what the fuck are you thinking?!”

It was hard to try and sound tough when Tawnie was the only thing standing between him and getting his ass beat. He still tried, though. He rested his hands protectively on her shoulders and looked directly into Tig’s eyes.

“I’m think that she’s right. That you don’t get to make that decision for us.”

“For us?” Tig stepped in closer, his blood boiling.

“I’m an adult, Dad,” Tawnie was shaking her head, “And for what it’s worth, I don’t think you get to criticize who I’m seeing when you were about to bring some random woman back to your dorm,” she cocked one eyebrow.

That got Tig to recoil a bit. He hooked his thumbs onto his belt-loops, trying to figure out what he wanted his next move to be. After a few moments of incredibly tense silence, he looked back at his daughter, “We aren’t done talking about this.”

Before she could try to give any kind of sass in return, Tig turned around and headed back towards the main part of the clubhouse, the woman he was about to whisk away following suit. Tawnie let out a deep sigh of relief as she leaned back against Kozik, taking comfort in the feeling of his arms draped over her shoulders as he kissed the top of her forehead.

“Did you think you were gonna die?” she laughed.

He chuckled, loosely wrapping his arms around her neck as he pulled her back against him, “For a second, yea.”

“My last resort would’ve been telling him that Gemma told you to do it,” she tilted her head back so she could look up at him.

He smiled down at her, “I kinda wish that you did, just so we could see his reaction.”

“He still might’ve killed you.”

“Maybe,” he sighed as he rested his forehead lightly against the back of her head.

“Does this mean you’re going to bail on your redemption plans?”

He slid his hands down so that they were resting on her hips again. Without a word he turned her and began pushing her down the hall in the direction of his dorm. She laughed as she let herself be guided down the row of doors.

“I don’t give up that easy,” he laughed quietly as he pressed a kiss to her temple.

[fairymadnessyeah]

Roman’s Nightmare

Summary: Roman could never have imagined that leaving Remus with Logan would lead to THIS.

Notes: This is a Modern Setting AU, where I will put all happy, funny one-shots. No angst.

AO3 Link

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"Thanks for letting me stay here, dear brother. We are going to have loads of fun~," with the way his twin brother was smiling, Roman doubted it.

"Just... try not to disgust my roommates," Roman sighs. "You are only staying until you finish moving into your new home. So don't get too comfortable," he reminds the other.

Remus and Roman might have been brothers, but neither one of them liked the other very much. They looked the same, but the two couldn't be any more different. From childhood to adulthood, the two were always at each other's throats. Roman had been glad the day he was able to afford to leave Remus' side. And now, he had to house his thot of a twin brother for a few days until his stuff arrived. Great.

Why couldn't his roommates say no? His father would have left it alone if the others weren't okay with it. But noooo, Patton had to be his dad-self and house the STD rat bastard Remus. And Logan thought it was a 'logical solution', so he saw no problem with it. And Virgil had accepted, just not to contradict the other two. No matter what Roman told them about Remus, they had accepted.

Even if he told them about the knife collection, the serial-killers trading cards, the time he pushed a man off a window, or his taxidermy hobby. They thought he was inventing it all. Too bad, he wasn't. Remus did all of that and more. And he couldn't wait for the other to realize their mistake after a night of him staying with them.

The two brothers finally arrive at Roman's flat, and they carry Remus' suitcase to the apartment. Their living space was simple. Just a kitchen and living room that had two hallways on each side. At the end of each hallway was a bathroom, and two rooms on each side. Roman and Patton had the right, and Virgil and Logan had the left. Remus would sleep on the living room. Roman didn't want him anywhere near his awards, not after he melted the others when they were six.

The two going inside, and find Logan sitting on the couch reading. When he notices the two come in, he stands up and fixes his necktie and glasses before coming to them and introducing himself.

"Good evening. I am Logan Logika. I believe you are Roman's brother. I hope our accommodations are to your liking," he stretches his hand towards the new guy.

Remus stares for a few seconds, and then licks his hand with a grin, and shakes Logan's hand. "Remus Nazione!" he exclaims.

Logan stares at his now wet hand, and then at Remus judgingly. He quickly shakes it off with a shrug, and steps into the kitchen for a minute. Roman, however, had just saw a golden opportunity with which he could get rid of Remus. If Logan, who was the rational one out of them, saw how irrational Remus was, then he wouldn't want him in their apartment, and he would kick him out. And achieving that would be easy. The only thing he had to do was let Logan spend more than an hour with Remus.

With the idea on his mind, the red wearing man takes out his phone and makes it look as if he just got a message. "Oh, no! This is horrible! Outrageous!" he exclaims dramatically.

"Roman, is there a problem?" Logan asks, carrying the plate of cookies Patton had done to welcome Remus.

"Did dad finally tell you he found you in a dumpster and feeding off a racoon with rabies?" Remus grins at the unpleasant image.

"No. It's the director of the play. There has been a wardrove malfunction, and they need me there ASAP," he lies, and watches as Logan nods and Remus squints at him suspiciously. "But I can't possibly leave. Remus is my brother and my responsibility. I can't abandon him to his luck," he says, performing his damned best.

Remus murmurs something (not like you haven't before), and then Logan falls right in his trap. "Well, if it is important, then I believe I can keep Remus company for you, Roman. It will be no problem for me," he will be regretting that statement later.

"Really, Logan? You are a saviour, A hero. Call me if you need anything," he is out of the door in an instant.

Was it rude to use Logan as his space goat? Maybe. Was it necessary? Absolutely. Remus and his unfiltered no-shame persona would scare the crap out of Virgil, and it would taint Patton's innocence. No, this was for the good of their house-hold and sanity. Now, he just had to find a place to hide and wait for Logan's desperate call for help.

But where to?

Oh, he knew just the place.

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So, Virgil laughed in his face at his plan. It made Roman want to think twice when choosing a place to hide. Virgil had his own art studio, separate from the apartment. It was at the attic of an old building, where the haunted house was held every year on Halloween. He never understood why Virgil didn't simply live here since it was one of the edgiest places on earth. Virgil fitted right in there. But then again, the emo was a strange man in on itself.

At the end of the day, the two went back to their home and Roman still hadn't received the awaited call from Logan. As they reach the entrance of the building, they find Patton there. The three go up to the flat, and find Logan sitting on the couch with a book, wearing his pyjamas.

"Oh, Hello, everybody. I hope you had an efficient day at work today," he says, separating his eyes from the pages for just a second.

"Hey, Logan. Where's Remus?" Roman asks, worried the lunatic of his brother is not within stopping range.

"Oh, do not worry, Roman. Your brother is alright. He is sleeping in my room, he was tired," Logan explains.

"Oh. Alright. He didn't give you any trouble?" Roman asks.

"No, he didn't. I am actually quite fond of him. His knowledge is quite interesting, though a bit unusual. But I am not one judge on the interests of others," Logan says and turns to the next page.

"Great," Roman says through his teeth. He can't believe his plan didn't work out.

Virgil grins at him, in an 'I-told-you-so' way, and Patton, getting things ready to cook dinner. He is about to start cooking, when he notices something on Logan's neck.

"Oh, Logan did something happen? You have a bruise on your neck," he says and gets closer to look at it, before going to get the first aid kit.

"There is no need to worry, Patton. I am fine, it is not a bruise," Logan tries to calm him down.

"Yeah, Pat, that's not a bruise, that is a hickey," Virgil adds when he takes a closer look.

"A hickey!?" Roman exclaims.

"Yes, Roman. A hickey is a red-mark in the skin, usually left behind after the said place has been bitten and sucked on," Logan explains.

"Why- what- who-," Roman stammers.

"I'm sorry, Roman, but you need to finish your sentences, if you want me to answer them," Logan says.

"Wait," the actor suddenly stops, as the reality dawns on him. "No. No no no no no no no no no..." he chants with a disgusted face, as he moves around the apartment. He goes around the living room and then goes to his room.

"Should we check on him- oh, wait, he is coming back," Patton says, as he watches the show next to Virgil.

"... no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no, no. No. NO! Logan! Did you- did you sleep with Remus?" Roman asks, fearing the answer.

"No, Roman, I did not sleep with your brother, nor did I have intercourse with him," Roman sighs relieved. "However, we did have an intense kissing," Princey feels nauseous again. "Your brother appears to be interested in me. So, if I could have your permission, I would like to-"

"No! I am not giving you permission to have sex with my brother! Find someone else if you need d*ck that much!" Roman interrupts.

"Roman, language!" Patton exclaims.

"You misunderstand me, Roman. I only wish to treat your brother with the utmost respect, and take him out to dinner before we move further with the relationship..."

Roman didn't hear any more as he melted onto the floor in confusion. How did it come to this? How could such a flawless plan become such a mess? As he stays in the floor, he can hear Patton move to cook dinner and a door opening. As he looks up, he sees his brother jump up to Logan and ask him about the next D-appointment. That makes him moan in pain again. Virgil is the only one who takes pity of him, and starts patting his head.

[heresathreebee]

Brackish And Briny Waters (three)

[Ralph Lamont X Female Reader]

Summary: Spend the weekend painting the house with your husband. Previous Masterlist Next

Tags: 17+ | 1.6k words | Painting a house together, aka domestic stuff, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex, pulling out, vague mention of rats.

AN: part 4 is gonna get angsty I just finished it

Anything involving greens was a heavy battle between you two, as Ralph seemed to have some kind of vendetta against them. The more blue you got, the less you fought and you eventually settled on a cool tone to use for the laundry room with a compromise to paint floral accents in a forest green tone along the edges of the back wall. You did find an exact replica of one of the original wallpapers in your second bedroom which you wanted to move to the living room. 

Colors selected and purchased, you went home starving and managed to scrape together some left overs with a side of rice to fuel you to start on the real work. You also bought brown paper to cover the solar room window holes until you can finish that room as its own project. 

Ralph rolls up his sleeves and puts on his bleach stained lounge pants to help. You lay down tarp and use up 3 rolls of tape to cover the kitchen and the dining room. Every window and door is wide open as you set your record player to play some 'whistle while you work' type of albums. And whistle he does that husband of yours, enjoying your company and shaking his hips dramatically to make you laugh. You two haven't had this much fun in so long it feels like. 

The summer citrus color you chose for the kitchen was really working for you. Ralph intended to put the wallpaper up in the other room to get 'double the work done' but still you find him working the same wall just to be close to you. You talk about missing that classic NYC pizza and dinner tomorrow and Ralph promises to ask his colleagues about any music shops in the area. 

You take a nap on the porch swing to get away from the paint fumes, an iced tea almost slipping from your hand. When dinner time comes, you cook while he details the removal of the old wallpaper from the dining room to work tomorrow. He's rambling about using a third coat on the living room paint and you don't think it's necessary but you know he'll agree with you come morning. 

"Come eat Ralph Vincent," you scold him for getting paint on the door frame but all is forgiven when he sweeps you into a hungry kiss. 

"I'd rather eat you right now." 

Ralph's flirtations are interrupted by his own ractious growling stomach and you laugh at him as you shove a plate into his hand. You eat together by the window in the living room. While it hasn't been painted yet, you have moved the furniture to the middle of the room and the fumes from the kitchen and dining room are still very strong. You hope it doesn't affect your sleep tonight (or hope it puts you down like a dose of melatonin). 

"Floyd's got a boat," Ralph tells you. "Says he takes it out on the water almost every day. Asked if I wanted to join him." 

"And are you?" You spin another forkful of angel hair spaghetti on your plate. 

Ralph slurps his like a child. "Am I what." 

"Are you going to join him on his boat?" You speak slowly and patronizingly. Ralph pinches your breast and almost makes you drop your plate. "No. I hate boats. I hate water. I don't want to be trapped for hours out there listening to him talk about paintings and philosophers, at least at work I can walk away." 

You chuckle. "I think Floyd sounds very interesting. What do you have against him?" 

"Nothing," he protests, "he talks too much. He's loquacious– that's what Justine calls him, and she's one to talk. If you must know, he's actually my favorite– he knows when to keep his nose out of my business." 

Dishes are made slightly more difficult with Ralph hanging off your shoulders. He peppers kisses up and down your neck, even finds a hickey from the morning that's started to fade and he remarks you. You dig your dripping fingers into his hair when he finds that spot on your neck and gives it some much needed attention. 

"Ralphie, baby, please," you whisper, "I could use your help with these." 

Dishes are done in record time and suddenly you're being whisked away to your bedroom (not that you were complaining). This room has the wallpaper that you had no intention to change aside from a fresh upgrade. Ralph takes your hand to spin you around and back you into your shared room all the way to the edge of the bed. Along the way he plants kisses from your hairline to your collarbone before he lets you fall atop the thick quilted bedspread. 

He gazes at you with a warm expression. The soft "my girl" he whisperes makes your heart swell. 

You expect him to pick up your legs and pull you by your knees to the outside of his hips (want him to even), but Ralph has other ideas it seems. It's not until his head is between your legs that you realize what he's up to (or rather down to). You gasp a lung full of air and grab him by the hair of his head. 

"Jesus," you sigh. 

Your husband's rumbling laughter causes your thighs to twitch. "Say my name, I'm the one doing all the work." 

"Yeah but you love– aha!" His beard brushes your inner thighs and leaves a delightful burning sensation in the deepest part of your soul. "Fuck…" 

You pull his hair harder and feel the soft locks stretch in your bloodless grasp. You can feel that immortal coil wind tighter and tighter inside you as Ralph devours you. You start chanting his name, the pitch of your voice beginning to crescendo the closer you get to that fire cracker ending. Ralph doubles his efforts, eager to have you fall apart on his tongue and fingers. 

He's more than making it up to you tonight. 

When you come, your body curls in on itself and your thighs lock around his head, effectively deafening him. You have no idea if he can hear the scream that rips from your body but you can't either as your eyes rolls back in ecstasy. 

You relax onto the bed and feel it dip with an additional weight to your side. You slide into Ralph's easy embrace, his dry hand coming up to hold you to him and just rest for a bit. 

"Fuck," you say huskily, "you're really good at that…" 

Ralph kisses you in answer, trying to deepen the connection but you have to twist away to catch your breath. Instead he plants lingering, sweet kisses on your neck, your cheek, your hair. His hand caresses your back in circles until you're nearly asleep from the motion. 

You flinch when you feel his nose brush against yours. "Baby… don't fall asleep." He sounds so sweet until his voice darkens and he says, "I'm not done with you yet." 

You lose track of time and all you can feel is Ralph Lamont. You're both covered in a sheen of sweat and his hips rock leisurely into yours. You don't know who grabbed who but your hands are tangled together and refuse to let go. Ralph's breath dusts over your neck, cool in contrast to the fire of his physical form pressed against you. You want to come again but you let him draw it out, let him love you tonight. 

"Ralph." You whisper in his ear, begging with no pressure to change pace. You're happy if he's happy and he is very content to keep thrusting into you to his peak and slow down, never stopping but always making you want more. Your man kisses you flush on the mouth and adjusts his position. His thrusts change. They grow from hypotonic and shallow to a little hard and more purposeful. You moan at the feeling, your legs locking around his hips to draw him deeper despite your exhaustion. 

Your orgasm washes over you nice and gentle, nothing like the force of the first time. You're conscious enough to lock your ankles around Ralph's hips, but it still doesn't prevent him from slipping his flushed and reddened cock out and finishing on your stomach as he always intended. You feel a strange tickle of disappointment as you come down from your high but push it to the back of your mind for later. 

Some way, somehow, Ralph still has enough strength to clean you both up and tuck you into bed. He curls around your body despite the near unbearable heat and falls fast asleep, his soft snores right behind your ear lulling you under the tide of sleep. 

DAY FOUR

"Morning." 

Your Saturday is awash of more painting and moving furniture with Ralph. He made coffee and eggs and brought it to you in bed, then dragged you down to look at the frayed wires on the clothes dryer machine. 

"Might be rodents," you muse. "I'll get some traps on Monday and find my soldering iron." 

"We'll get traps tonight," your husband countered, scratching his chin, "the sooner the better." 

You finish removing the old wallpaper in the living room and carefully put up the new one with little fuss. The kitchen still smells of paint but it's dry (it had better be, you left the windows open all night and it's freezing in here) so you put the kitchen utensils and appliances back and remove the protective tape and brown paper. Ralph is proud of the precision work done in the corners and edges, patting himself on the back and yours. 

"We did good babe," he said, "by this time next week, we'll have the whole house done!" 

You laugh at his optimism. There were still cobwebs to dust, cracks to spackle, floors to polish, windows to replace. This was the very reason he picked this place… 

To keep you busy. To keep your mind from wandering to those dark places that linger in your past. 

At least it was working.

Tagging people who might like to know: @werwulfy @hoodoo12 @escape-your-grape @go-commander-kim @fundamentally-lazy @mimiscappinisideblog do y'all wanna be here? If not lemme know please 😅 DM me

[grimark]

actually u know what i am going to break my rule of not posting writing wips, and post The Scene In Question, so u can all see exactly what i mean about there being too many lines about hickey smiling. square brackets indicate shit i’m considering editing or rewording, because this is a work in progress. modern au, gay rat divorce, from part way through the fic but most of what’s going on can be figured out from context.

After Irving catches them in the storage closet, Neil makes himself scarce for a while. When Billy asks the other contractors at the museum, they say he’s been around, but if that’s true then Billy certainly hasn’t seen him. He isn’t answering his phone, of course. Billy would worry, but it’s not like their relationship was that serious, and Neil is prone to unexplained periods of silent treatment, anyway.

When he shows up at Billy's flat, three days after the incident, Billy feels an inexplicable curdling of dread in his stomach. This is the man he is (was?) dating, for god’s sake, he’s not supposed to be thinking oh, no, not you at the sight of him.

Maybe it’s guilt. Billy refuses to countenance this option, though. After all, it was pretty much Neil's fault they got caught in the first place, it was Billy's job on the line, and it’s not like Neil was doing anything about it. God forbid he take matters into his own hands for once.

“So,” says Neil, leaning against the door frame. [He’s smiling, with a tight, mean curl to the corner of it/forced display of nonchalance]. “You’ll never guess what I heard. Apparently, Cornelius Hickey is a bad influence.”

He sounds like he’s quoting something. Or someone. The penny drops, and Billy feels the little puddle of dread in his stomach deepen into a pit of pure horror.

“Don’t tell me you talked to Irving.” He can only imagine how badly that interaction played out.

“Mm, no.” [Neil’s smile, if possible, becomes even meaner and faker.] “He talked to me, actually. Says there’s been an anonymous allegation of workplace sexual harassment made against me.”

Well, shit, Billy kind of had said that, hadn’t he? It had seemed like the best option available at the time, but the potential ramifications look a bit less appealing now that they’re staring belligerently up at him in the hallway of his flat.

Immediately, and perhaps unwisely, Billy goes on the defensive.

“Listen,” he says. “I had to do something to reassure him. He’d have fired me if he thought I…”

“If he thought you were actually enjoying it? So now he’ll just have me fired instead, is that it?” [Neil’s merry little face is threatening a storm in a way Billy’s never seen it before.]

“Of course he won’t,” says Billy. “I’ll tell him I don’t want to make a big fuss about it, he’ll drop the issue, and then he’ll try and forget all about it, just like you said.”

“You don’t want to make a fuss?” Neil says incredulously. “[slightly insulting euphemism for fucking that would get the same response as the wife thing].”

“Oh, go to hell,” Billy snaps. He’s trying not to raise his voice, he doesn’t want his flatmate to overhear any of this, but Neil is really testing him. “You think you can just treat me however you like, but the sex isn’t worth the trouble.”

“Yeah?” [Neil’s smile hasn’t slipped, but his eyes are hard and spiteful.] “Is that why you’re always bending over for me, every chance you get, because I’m not worth the trouble?”

Neil’s smarmy attitude makes Billy very quietly furious. Of course Neil would try and use that against him, and of course he’d find it funny. Neil never takes Billy seriously. He’s nice as long as Billy is buying him dinner and putting out and coddling his ego, then he’s mocking and distant as soon as he gets bored.

Neil has stepped up close to try and get in Billy’s face, but Billy can still look down his nose at him just fine. “You know what they call it, when one animal lives off another, benefits at the other’s expense? A parasite. Sucking its blood or stealing its money, making it sick and miserable, it’s all the same thing. You’re a parasite, Neil. You keep fucking taking from me, and I’m not going to let you take my job from me as well.” [Perhaps Harry’s little speech about the wasps and the caterpillars has been weighing on his mind.]

“And your job is that important, is it?” Neil asks. The contempt is clear in his voice, and that makes Billy even angrier. Neil doesn’t give a shit about working for the museum. He’s got a clever mind and an able body and a tendency to land on his feet, he’ll have something else lined up in no time. But Billy needs his job.

“More important than you, at least,” says Billy. He means it to hurt, but somehow he’s surprised when Neil looks away from him. He forges on: “I mean it. You’ve caused me no end of trouble, the whole time we’ve been together. So don’t be bitter about it, and let’s just make a clean break.” 

He really does mean it, he finds as he’s saying the words. He wants Neil out of his life. The sex has been good, but Neil is a nuisance with a very sketchy personal history, and it’s not like Billy even likes him that much. It was only a matter of time before he got into some kind of serious trouble, and dragged Billy down with him. They will both be far better off without each other.

“I’d like you to leave now,” Billy finishes. 

Neil takes a few steps towards the door, before he turns back again. For a moment, Billy genuinely thinks Neil might be going to hit him, but he doesn’t even have time to flinch before Neil settles himself against the wall to cast a judgemental gaze up and down Billy’s body.

“You think you’ve got it all figured out,” Neil says. He is practically vibrating with the effort it takes to keep up his facade of amused superiority. “You think I’m nothing, and you can just drop me when it’s convenient for you, but you’re wrong. I’ve got potential.”

Billy can’t help it, he actually laughs. There it is, the great lie Neil tells himself. He needs to think of himself as special, because he can’t handle the knowledge that he is nothing, no more important than anybody else. “Potential? Neil, nobody gives a fuck about your potential. Nobody sees you. Nobody cares.”

“You’ll care.” He says it with such desperate confidence. “Nobody has any idea what I’m capable of, but that’s fine, I don’t need any of you.”

“Neil…” Billy finds his anger draining from him, leaving only exhaustion and bitterness. Neil looks small and deluded and very pathetic, standing in Billy’s hallway. “It’s over, just accept it. Now, get out of my flat, go back to work tomorrow, and get on with your life.”

Miraculously, he does, without so much as glancing back over his shoulder. Billy slams the door shut behind him.

[ilovemygaydad]

title: until we meet again

pairing: demus (deceit/remus)

summary: a zombie apocalypse isn’t the place to be catching feels. unfortunately, dc is doing exactly that with a mysterious man that he met in an alley.

word count: 4.1k

warnings: remus, deceit, sympathetic deceit, zombie apocalypse, mentions of cuts and bruises, swearing, heated making out sessions, implied nudity, weapons, threats, almost attempted murder, mentions of broken glass, mentions of casual sex, mentions of hickeys, innuendos, fainting (once), mentions of STDs, death mentions, crying, sadness, anxiety, sort of breakups? it really isn’t one but idk, sexual attraction, possibly something else

***this fic obviously has a lot of triggers in it, so if you have any questions or concerns, or if you need a summary of parts with specific triggers, please send me an ask! your safety is my number one priority here, and i would hate for anybody to be engaging in unsafe reading practices!***

a/n: so this is... new for me. i’ve never written this ship or this kind of au, nor have i had deceit be the main character (in a serious manner, at least), and i’ve never attempted remus seriously, either. i hope i didn’t fuck up the descriptions of sexual attraction and making out because idk what i’m doing as a sex repulsed asexual! rip me i guess lol. also shoutout to @adultmorelikeadolt for listening to me ramble about this and proof reading it <3 they’re the real mvp here, so check their stuff out, too!!! also, this got way longer than i thought... whoops?

a/n 2: this is heavily based off of death valley by fall out boy! you can listen to it here

Commission Info

consider buying me a coffee

---

DC breathed a heavy sigh of relief as soon as the beat-up VW bus screeched to a stop inside of the checkpoint station. It had been far too long since the last one, and each mile that ticked off on the odometer made him increasingly anxious. The dense forests of Maine were the perfect hiding spots for zombies or bandits, which Virgil so fantastically liked to point out every time that it got dark. Yet they trudged deeper and deeper into the state, driving towards the safety of Canada.

But finally, they had made it.

Roman threw the bus into park and hopped out of the driver’s seat, and the others piled out of the back right after. The checkpoint station was huge--easily one of the largest in the country--but its size made sense given that it was one of two in the entirety of New England. DC gazed around the part of the checkpoint that he could see, and he was in awe at how normal it looked. Other than the giant fences and sentries, it looked like an average New England town. If he hadn’t known any better, he would have believed that there had never been a zombie outbreak in the first place.

Neat, uniform streets of houses stretched before him with shops-turned-supply-stations interspersed between them. Children were outside playing, and adults were going about their days with only a slightly heightened level of concern. Unlike all of the other stations they’d passed through on their way from Miami, it was clean and calm, and a person didn’t have to worry about being pickpocketed or stabbed on their way back from getting their rations.

The guards advanced on them, and Patton talked to the officers as they searched the bus for illegal contraband. Once the bus was clear, they were ushered into the nearest building--a small, gray brick cube that looked more like a sad excuse for a shed than anything--and were tested for the virus. With the exception of Logan fainting, the group was completely cleared to continue into the checkpoint without issue. A guide was designated to them for their month-long stay both to help them become familiar with the checkpoint and to dissuade any of the residents from becoming hostile towards the newcomers.

They drove fifteen minutes into the checkpoint to the visitor park, which was where they were allowed to park the bus. Although their guide, whose name was Remy, offered them a tour, they politely declined. They had been on the road for nearly six days, only stopping to rest or refuel, which might have been circumnavigated had it not been for the Pittsburgh checkpoint being on lockdown.

Long story short, they were tired and really just needed to sleep.

Well, everyone else needed to sleep. DC was too keyed up from the trip to feel anything other than restless, so as soon as he was sure the others were asleep and that the sun had set, he snuck out of the bus and took to the darkest alleys of the checkpoint. He moved with expert silence through the night. His feet took him far from the bus to a more desolate area. Similarly to a normal city, the checkpoint had a dilapidated section of buildings that the more unfortunate people lived, which seemed proportional to the size of the area. 

It was eerily silent amidst the ruined structures. Aside from the occasional rat skittering across an alley, it was completely, utterly quiet.

Footsteps echoed just behind DC. Those footsteps were not his own.

Lightning fast, DC had his stalker pinned against the crumbling brick wall. He expected a fight back, but the man was merely grinning at him in glee. Electric green eyes stared at him with an unnerving amount of energy.

“The last time someone pinned me against a wall, both parties ended up without clothes on,” the man giggled, leaning his head as far forward as DC’s hold would allow. His mustache twisted along with each movement of his mouth. “I wouldn’t mind if this interaction ended the same way.”

DC decided to ignore that comment. “Why were you following me?”

“‘Cause you’re new! We never get visitors.”

That seemed fair. People tended to stay at their original checkpoints.

“And I think you’re hot.”

“Oh, and that makes stalking me so much better. I’m not disgusted by you right now.”

The man’s odd smile grew. “People usually are, so I’m not surprised.”

DC didn’t even know how to reply. He opened and closed his mouth, scouring his brain for a comeback, when a rogue hand tugged on his belt loop. Before he could even process what was happening, their positions had been reversed. 

Oh, shit.

“You’re so pretty when you’re pretending to be tough!” The man was surprisingly strong, and his hands held DC firmly in place regardless of how much he struggled. “I wonder what it would be like when you’re angry. Just fully animalistic.”

“Fuck you,” DC spat.

“Promise?”

Logan probably would have been worried about how aggressively DC rolled his eyes. “In your dreams.”

“Who says we can’t make dreams a reality?” the man whispered in a voice that sent a chill running through DC’s blood. Was this man seriously flirting with him? Was he seriously flirting back?

“I don’t give myself up so easy to dirty street dwellers.”

The man smirked, and a dark glitter flashed in his eyes. “I put the ‘d’ in dirt, baby. I can show you if you’d like.”

DC was suddenly glad that the scars covering the left half of his face were gnarly enough to distract from any blushing.

“Come on,” the man crooned. “Come with me, and I can show you a good time.”

“No. No, I can’t.” DC rushed, and to his surprise, he was immediately let go.

“Okay.” The man took a step back, allowing DC an escape route.

“Okay?”

The man gestured down the alley, still smiling. “You are free to go. I can’t keep you here.”

“Oh,” DC said. “Okay.”

As DC walked away, the man called, “Good bye!” He pretended that he didn’t hear.

---

For some godforsaken reason, DC found himself sitting on a dumpster in the alley the next day. Being out at night didn’t affect him much as he tended to prefer sleeping during the day, and he had yet to be caught by either guards or the rest of his group. Still, he hadn’t exactly been expecting to want to return to the place where he had met the strange man.

But he had, so there he was, sitting on a dumpster lid and staring up at the sky.

“BOO!” a voice suddenly shouted behind DC, and he barely managed to catch  himself before he could be sent tumbling to the pavement. The same giggling from the night before echoed through the alley as the man skipped around the dumpster, stopping right in front of DC. “Hiya!”

“Hello.”

“I can’t believe you came back! People don’t usually want to be in this area of the checkpoint.”

“Well,” DC said, shrugging. “I’ve been told that I’m very usual.”

The man laughed, setting his elbow on the edge of the dumpster to place his chin in his palm. “You’re so funny!”

“Thanks.” DC tried to imagine what the man had found so funny, but his train of thought was cut short when the man moved again. He crossed his arms on the dumpster edge and rested his chin on DC’s crossed legs, looking up through his thick lashes. It took every ounce of restraint not to make a strangled noise at the very, very intimate position.

“So... Why did you come back?”

There was a second that DC considered lying, but he knew deep down that this man would be able to tell. “You.”

“Oh,” the man said breathily as if all of the air had been knocked out of his lungs.

“Kiss me?”

The tone of the man’s voice (the man--DC didn’t even know his name) turned dark, and he said, “God, yes.”

They moved quickly, and the second that DC’s boots hit the pavement, he was pressed back against the dumpster with a searing kiss. He hadn’t felt such an intense fire under his skin since before the apocalypse--since before he’d sworn off feelings altogether. A sharp flash of teeth ran across his lip before biting down so hard that DC was surprised his skin didn’t break. In retaliation, he thread his fingers in the other man’s hair and tugged, which elicited a surprised moan out of his companion. 

If DC’s skin had been on fire before, he was burning now, and he took advantage of the distraction to deepen the kiss further. Too soon, the other man pulled away, grinning dangerously with shining green eyes. His cheeks held a heavy flush that matched the red swell of his lips. 

“Do you want to take this somewhere more appropriate?” he asked in a husky voice that nearly made DC’s knees give out.

“Please.”

---

DC continued to sneak out to meet up with the strange man. It was fun and extremely enjoyable, so why wouldn’t he go back? He had to spend the month in the checkpoint anyway; it made sense to find something to do (literally) in his free time. Once his time was up, he would leave, and everything would go back to normal.

He could forget any of these meetings ever happened.

He would.

Because they were merely for sex. Nothing else.

They didn’t mean anything.

DC turned his head to look at the man next to him. They still didn’t know each others’ names. They were two strangers who happened to cross paths in a dingy alley. Nothing more than the product of long lines of choices. A high that they just couldn’t get enough of.

The man’s eyes were closed, and his breathing was even and deep. In the moonlight that shined through the broken window, the gray streak in his hair glimmered like a silver lake. The soft part of his lips was starkly juxtaposed with the harsh bruises and scrapes on his skin. If it were any other time, DC would have described him as stunning.

Wait.

...

No.

No. No, He wasn’t thinking like that. Sure, the man was attractive, but that was it. He was a good fuck--a good time during the god damn zombie apocalypse. DC wasn’t some fucking teenage YA protagonist yearning for the pretty bad boy. It wasn’t like he’d fallen in love with this crass, borderline violent stranger.

Holy shit, DC had fallen in love, and he had no idea what to do with himself.

The man’s eyes fluttered open and met his gaze. He yawned and propped himself onto his elbow, grinning his usual Cheshire smile. DC’s heart pounded heavily in his chest.

“Ready for another round?” the man teased as he traced the hickeys on DC’s neck.

“I-I’ve gotta go!” DC scrambled off of the stained mattress, throwing on his clothes with urgency.

“What?”

“I just--I have to go.”

The man couldn’t even get another word in before the door to his room slammed closed.

---

The following three days were spent moping, napping, and pointedly not leaving the bus. Mostly napping. Definitely not moping.

He didn’t want to think about the pretty man from the alley. No part of his mind wanted to be reminded of soft lips and green eyes and burning passion. It was so damn tiring to confront the horrible reality of DC being in love. 

Because this was the apocalypse.

And he was going to leave in a couple of weeks.

The apocalypse was neither the time nor place to grow attached to a man who skulked around in alleys like the rat bastard that he was.

But god, he had fallen hard. DC would close his eyes and see a silver streak and tan, calloused hands and shiny scars. Memories of sharp teeth on sensitive skin mingled with the sensation of hot flashes in his blood, quickening his heart rate as he wished to go back and be held and loved. What deity had he angered in a past life to deserve the burden of emotions? Why couldn’t he have just stayed in the bus on the second day instead of going to the alley? How was he supposed to move on?

A sad, strangled noise escaped his throat as he contemplated his existence.

The back door of the bus swung open, and DC stilled, pretending to be asleep. He was luckily turned away from the door, so his tear-streaked face wasn’t visible to whomever opened the door. They clambered in and shut the door with a heavy thunk. They sat, of course, right behind DC’s back.

“Dee, I know you’re awake,” Virgil said. “I could hear you sobbing from outside.”

“I know what you’re talking about, Virgil. I was crying.”

Virgil huffed out a short laugh. “Wow, double lies. That’s pretty impressive.”

“Don’t go away.”

“Alright. I won’t.”

DC turned to glare at Virgil. There was no reason to hide his obvious crying when Virgil had already called him out on it. “I hate you.”

Virgil smiled sympathetically. “I know, Dee, but you’ve been in this slump for days now. Even Logan is starting to notice that you’re upset. What’s wrong?”

“I just...” he trailed off, trying to think of what he wanted to say. “I met someone.”

“We all have met people in the checkpoint, dude. We don’t know anybody here--oh. Oh, you met someone.” Virgil’s eyes went wide as the realization hit him like a truck. “You fell for them.”

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter anymore. I ran away.”

“You what?!” Virgil screeched.

“Please, continue acting so incredibly melodramatic. It suits you,” DC grumbled. He rolled his eyes and turned away. 

Virgil scoffed. “I can’t believe how fucking stupid you are! I might as well have a god damn rock for a friend.”

“Your words are so kind.”

“I’m sorry that you threw away your own fucking happiness because you’re afraid of love! You had it, DC. You found someone, and you want to just throw it away!”

DC pulled himself up, throwing a harsh look at Virgil. “We have less than two weeks left in this checkpoint. When that time is up, we will leave, and I will never see him again. Continuing to see him will only bring me more distress, not to mention that I have no idea if he even feels anything for me aside from sexual attraction.”

“Dude, can you shut the fuck up for a second? Seriously, for the past few weeks, you were happier than I’d seen you since well before the apocalypse.” Virgil let out a heavy sigh. “At least apologize. I know you like to keep up your morally-gray schtick, but he deserves to hear why you ran away.”

There were a few seconds of angry silence before DC spat, “I love when you’re right!”

Virgil merely smiled and pat his shoulder, climbing out of the van.

The sun wouldn’t be setting for a few hours, so DC had plenty of time to figure out what the fuck he was supposed to say.

---

It felt like major déjà-vu for DC to be sitting on the same dumpster, hoping that the man would show up. Sure, he could have just traveled to the man’s odd little apartment, but it was far more difficult to make a quick escape from a building than it was an alley. Thus, DC had settled to take his chances of sitting on the dumpster should his partner (fuck buddy? significant other???) be furious. 

Anger was a pretty valid response given the circumstances.

It had been a couple of hours since he’d arrived, and it was a bit chilly. He shivered, pulling his old leather jacket closer around him. His eyes squeezed shut as if he could will away the cold air. Canada’s weather was going to be an absolute bitch if Maine was bordering on unbearable for DC.

“Oh,” a familiar voice exclaimed from in front of the dumpster, and DC’s eyes snapped open. The man had his hands on his hips in a childlike pose, but the glimmer in his eyes bordered on murderous. “Y’know, I was starting to think I’d have to hunt you down myself, but you just waltzed back in like the idiot you are!” He shifted slightly, and the moonlight caught the metal of the knife in his hand.

“Don’t wait!” DC cried when the man lifted his arm in preparation to strike. “I didn’t want to apologize. Please, you don’t have to hear me out!”

“I do? I didn’t realize that I was under the jurisdiction of lying bastards!” The man laughed, but it was dark and lacking any humor.

“I love you,” DC blurted before he could stop himself. He clamped his hands over his mouth in horror.

I love you. The words hung in the air like a child’s mobile. They couldn’t be retracted; they couldn’t be taken back. Each syllable stuck in reality. I love you.

“Oh,” the man said, staring at DC in shock. “You aren’t lying.”

“Yes,” he lied. “I am. I wasn’t scared of my feelings. My friends and I won’t leave in a week and a half, and after that...”

The man let the knife drop to the pavement with a heavy clatter, moving to take DC’s hands. “We’re going to die. It’s just a matter of time before it happens, but what we do with that time is up to us.” He paused, and a wicked smirk twisted his lips. “Who you do is also a choice to make.”

DC choked out a laugh because it was so familiar to hear a stupid innuendo coming from this man’s lips. Love coursed through his veins for all of the stupidest reasons, but it felt so good. Virgil had been right--he was happy. He was purely, simply happy. For once, the apocalypse was on the back of his mind, and he was enjoying existence.

“I won’t have to leave,” he murmured despite himself. “It will last.”

“We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it. Let’s make every second of this next week and a half count, okay?”

Maybe Virgil had been right about DC being an idiot, too, because he nodded and said, “Okay.”

---

There were only twelve hours remaining before DC had to leave the Maine checkpoint station.

There were only twelve hours remaining before DC had to leave the only person that he’d ever truly loved.

They were laying together on the man’s mildly disgusting mattress. The man--yes, he was still known as the man because they decided anonymous identities would be best--was lightly tracing his fingers down the bare skin of DC’s back, which would have been soothing if they hadn’t been acutely aware of the clock running out. 

“You should come with us,” DC whispered. He’d been mulling the idea around in his mind for a while, but he hadn’t known how to bring it up.

“What?”

“Come with us,” he repeated fervently, sitting up. “The rest of the group wouldn’t mind one more person, and we could easily take you across the border.”

“No.”

It was DC’s turn to say, “What?”

“No,” the man sighed as he sat up as well. “I can’t go with you.”

“Why not?!”

“Look around!” He gestured at the debris-filled room. Glass and rock littered most of the floor, and the rest was covered in clothes and containers of food. “I have no worth. I despise using the characteristics of ‘good’ and ‘bad,’ but it isn’t fair to such kind people to have to take on someone like me.”

“They’d be happy to let you tag along--”

“I know, but I have to make it on my own.” His green eyes sparked with determination. “I’ll make it on my own.”

“Will you promise? I don’t care if it’s meaningless, but... it’ll make it easier to leave if I have reassurance that you’ll find me.” DC let his fingers intertwine with the other man’s in an attempt to forget about the pit in his stomach.

“I promise.”

---

One Year Later

Things had finally started settling down for the group. Nearly all of them had been able to secure some sort of job, and they had a roof over their heads that wasn’t attached to a vintage bus. Things were good. DC was happy, healthy, and safe.

A bit lonely, but he still had his friends.

He knew deep down that the man he’d met in Maine wouldn’t make it to Canada. DC had left him with a map marked with where the group was going to end up, but without a mode of transportation, the whispered promises to find each other would stay in the crumbling ruins of an apartment complex. That was okay, even if his heart still held on to the green-eyed stranger like there was a chance of being together.

When he’d eventually told the others of his fling, they’d all been supportive in their own ways. Patton gave him a long hug and whispered gentle reassurances into his ears, and Roman had told him that anything was possible until proven impossible. Logan scolded him about being reckless, claiming that he would have been pissed that DC had survived the apocalypse for so long just to be taken down by potential STDs. Even though Virgil had already known, he still offered a shoulder to cry on. DC would never admit it, but he appreciated how loved he felt.

He shook his head to clear his mind. It was nearly two in the morning; he should’ve been trying to sleep instead of dwelling on the past. Logan always liked to preach about circadian rhythm and all that jazz.

Whatever. DC cut his losses and went to the tiny kitchen, throwing a pot of water on the stove to boil. He took out his mug and a packet of chamomile tea that Patton had stocked for his insomnia as he waited. At least he was trying to coax his body into sleep. Virgil usually just listened to news stations on the radio until the sun rose. Old, paranoid habits died hard, he supposed.

A knock at the door pulled DC out of his thoughts. They never received any visitors, and they definitely were never this late at night. Cautiously, he grabbed the heavy flashlight from its spot next to the hall closet. He prepared to swing at whoever was outside and peered out of the peephole.

Bright green eyes stared back at him, and the flashlight clattered to the ground, barely missing his foot. He flung the door open because there was no way that he was seeing things right, but standing less than a meter away was the man from Maine. DC couldn’t believe his eyes. It couldn’t be real.

“Hey,” the man said as though they had never been apart.

“Holy shit.”

The man giggled, playfully setting his fists on his hips. “I traveled nearly three hundred miles to see you, and this is the greeting I get?”

DC wasn’t able to respond as Roman’s tired voice appeared behind him. “Dee, wha’s goin’ on?”

“Dee? Oh, that’s a cute nickname!” The man turned to Roman and said, “Hi! I’m his boyfriend.”

That sobered DC up fast. “He’s the one from Maine.” My boyfriend.

“Oh! Holy shit!” Roman’s eyes went wide with realization. 

“Roman, this is...?”

“Remus,” the man supplied.

“Roman, this is Remus.” The name felt like gold on his tongue. “Remus, this is my friend, Roman.” 

Roman held out his hand, which Remus shook. “I can’t believe you made it. How’d you even find us?”

“I secretly embedded a tracker in Dee’s skin before he left!” Roman looked horrified, and Remus cackled at the response. “Just kidding! He told me that you were going to Moncton, and I just asked around about a VW bus for a while until I found you.”

“Right...” It seemed that Roman had become thoroughly uncomfortable by Remus’ sense of humor. “I’m gonna go back to bed.” He paused, making direct eye contact with his friend. “And DC? Don’t be loud or whatever.”

“We won’t,” he assured at the same time that Remus said, “No promises!”

As soon as the door to Roman’s room was shut, DC threw himself into Remus’ arms. “You actually did it.”

“I did,” he said. “I promised.”

“I didn’t think you’d actually make it!” DC cried, feeling hot tears brim in his eyes.

“I didn’t either, Dee. I really didn’t.”

“I love you.”

Remus’ fingers tangled in his hair. “I love you, too.”

And maybe DC cried, but that was okay. He had someone to wipe the tears away, now.

now with a part 2 minific

[hopes4gf]

Thievery and Mischief- (a descendants/marvel crossover)

Ah, October. The best month of the year. Fall weather stars rolling in, the leaves start to change color, and Ben’s coronation is just on the weekend. Honestly, it’s also the worst day of the whole month too. Family Day. Where our parents come to visit us after their endeavors without us. For our parents, we decide to perform an acapella version of Be our Guest. Me, Lonnie, and of course Audrey, stand at the front to perform and Audrey whispers to Chad constantly. 

“Hey, how's Jay?” Lonnie asks.

”I have no clue. He’s been pretty sad all day though. He was fine this morning though,” I say.

”You never told me what happened on your date,” Lonnie says cheekily.

Ben calls places and we get into formation.

”I’ll tell you later,” I say to her with a wink.

After we finish performing, I head over to my parents.

”Hi, ma. Hi, pa,” I greet with a soft smile.

My dad embraces me in a tight hug.

”You were a little sharp during the chorus,” Mom comments.

”Jaz, cut her some slack. She did wonderful,” My dad tells Mom.

She gives me a kiss on the cheek after I hug dad. Soon, Aziz appears.

”Hi guys, just had to take care of some tourney question from Eric,” Aziz says.

”Saw your guy’s win during homecoming. Who was that number 8 kid who got the assist?” Dad asks Aziz.

”That would happen to be my boyfriend,” I respond with a smile.

Mom and Dad’s eyes both change in shape.

”Boyfriend?” They question.

“Adri’s dating a VK,” Aziz says cheekily, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.

Mom’s eyes widen in surprise. Dad just smiles.

”And who are their parents?” Mom says, crossing their arms.

“Does it matter though?” Dad adds.

”Yeah, loosen up, ma,” Aziz says, as swaggeringly as Dad does.

Mom rolls her eyes and waits expectantly for my answer.

”Okay...he may or may not be...the son of Jafar,” I say quickly, stuttering along the way.

Mom’s face morphs into anger.

”What? Are you absolutely kidding me?” Mom exclaims.

”But he’s cool, mom,” Aziz adds.

”That's...concerning. But if Aziz thinks he’s okay, then I think we should try and...open up to the idea,” Dad says to mom.

“Uh, fine,” Mom says, rolling her eyes.

I try and find Jay. I spot him by Ben.

”Can I borrow him for a second?” I ask Ben.

Before he can respond, I take Jay’s arm anyway.

”What’s wrong?” Jay says, noticing my nervousness.

”Okay, my parents may or may not want to meet you?” I tell him.

His eyes widen nervously.

”Don’t you think it’s a little too soon for me to be meeting your parents?” Jay asks, scratching his neck nervously.

”Aziz just couldn’t keep his mouth shut,” I scoff.

Jay laughs and pecks my cheek.

”I would be honored to meet your parents. But do they...?” He assumes.

”Yeah,” I say softly.

We eventually walk over to my parents and Mom stares him up and down.

”Mom, Dad, this is my boyfriend, Jay,” I introduce.

”It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Jay says with a smile.

”Nice play last week. The whole match had me on the edge of my seat!” Dad says, extending a hand.

”Thank you, sir,” Jay says shyly.

”Please, call me Al,” Dad tells him.

Jay then turns to Mom.

”And you must be the Sultana. I’ve heard a lot of things about you, your majesty,” Jay says, taking her hand a placing a kiss on it.

”Your quite the catch, aren’t you?” Mom says.

I chuckle softly and Jay winks in my direction.

”Thats actually the same thing your daughter said to me when I first met her, your majesty,” Jay recalls.

“Did you?” Mom says, looking to me with a raised brow.

”What? It was the only thing I thought of,” I say shyly.

Mom laughs and turns back to Jay.

”You know what they say, like mother, like daughter,” Mom adds.

”Jeez, mom,” I say in embarrassment.

”Well she does have a couple of interesting traits that I assume she’s gotten from the both of you,” Jay comments.

”Nah, I couldn’t even imagine myself doing the load of things she does in a day. Compared to when I was her age, I was such a loser,” Dad says.

”You were a street rat, dad,” Aziz adds.

”I learned valuable things though,” Dad comments.

”Like what, how to steal the hoped diamond?” I joke.

”How to steal ladies’ hearts, if you get what I mean,” Dad says with a wink.

”Honey!” Mom exclaims, nudging Dad’s arm.

”And it still took you forever to get married,” A voice says.

I look over my shoulder and see Uncle Genie alongside Jordan.

”Genie! Long time no see old friend,” Dad says, approaching Genie.

Jordan gives me a side hug.

”You taking care of my girl, Jay?” Jordan asks Jay.

”She’s taking care of herself just fine, Jordan, but sure I am,” Jay says.

”Good answer,” Mom comments, listening to our conversation.

Jay chuckles a little at Mom’s comment and turns to me.

”Your family’s pretty cool. I don’t get why you argue so much,” Jay whispers.

”It’s because Jaz never wants my boy to be right,” Genie says, slinging his arm around me and Jay’s shoulders.

”Hi, uncle Genie. This is-,” I start.

”The lucky man who stole my niece’s heart! Jordan told me all about you,” Genie says, patting Jay’s back.

I glare at Jordan.

”Of course she did,” I say through gritted teeth.

”What? You know I gossip a lot,” Jordan says.

”Why do you trust her again?” Aziz says, joining our conversation.

”Because I'm chill?” Jordan assumes.

From the corner of my eye, I see Dad and Genie talking to Jay. I can feel Jay’s presence start to get nervous. I slide away from my brother and my cousin.

”Hi, can you not try and intimidate the hell out of my boyfriend? Thank you, love you,” I say, taking Jay’s arm.

”How’d you know I was-?”

”Powers,” I say shortly.

Jay nods in realization.

Soon, Jay goes back with Ben to play Croquet and I try to distant myself from my family. I hear footsteps coming from behind me. I turn and see my dad.

”Hey, what’s wrong?” Dad asks, sitting beside me on the garden’s bench.

”What did you tell Jay?” I ask.

Dad chuckles softly.

”I just gave them the whole protective dad thing,” Dad says.

I pinch the bridge of my nose softly.

”God, you guys never fail to embarrass me,” I say.

”Is that what you think of us?” Dad asks concerningly.

”Kind of,” I say shyly.

Dad holds out his hand for me to take.

I take his hand and he holds it.

”I know we’re not perfect but you’re the only daughter we have. Your mom might be rash sometimes but she’s always trying to help you. And I may joke around sometimes-“

”Sometimes?” I question.

”Okay, that might be an understatement but I seriously believe that if you're happy with Jay, it doesn’t matter if he’s from the Isle or if he is Jafar’s son. I was from the streets and your mother was royalty, and I still managed to capture her heart,” Dad says.

I lay my head on his shoulder.

”Why can’t mom be more like you?” I ask.

”Me and your mom both love in different ways, honey. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t care about you or doesn’t love you any less,” Dad assures.

”Thanks, dad. For everything,” I say sweetly.

I pick my head off his shoulder and he kissed my forehead. 

“Go and talk to your friends or something, enjoy your day off,” Dad says with a smile.

I hug Dad briefly and walk off into the croquet court.

I walk over to Lonnie.

”Let me guess. Your family gave the old familiar awkward conversation to Jay?” Lonnie asks.

”This was the worst though. Even if he did push through it,” I say.

Lonnie raises a surprised brow.

”Really? You know, I think your dad might actually like him a lot. Even if your mom might freak the hell out,” Lonnie comments.

”She already did,” I add.

Lonnie and I both laugh.

”So, tell me about your date,” Lonnie reminds me.

I smile, remembering the events.

”Well, he first took me on a motorcycle ride through the city. Then, we stopped by the enchanted lake and he covered the green house with violets and gifted me a instrumental track he made for a song I wrote him,” I say.

”Aww, that’s beautiful. But how’d he know you liked Violets?” Lonnie asks.

”Aziz,” I say shortly, rolling my eyes:

”That boy is always talking to Jay now. About Tourney, video games and you,” Lonnie says.

”Oh really?” I ask.

”Every first period in Algebra. Jay never shuts up about you,” Lonnie adds.

I smile softly at the thought. 

“After he gave me the song, we talked a little bit,” I say.

”About what?” Lonnie asks.

”Everything. How we grew up, our families, and he told me how he felt about me and asked me to be his,” I say.

”That’s when he asked you? Damn, took him long enough,” Lonnie says.

”Why do you say that?” I ask.

”He had an obvious crush on you so he asked everyone what he should do for his date,” Lonnie says.

”He asked you?” I assume.

”He did. I mean, I am your best friend. Now, continue,” Lonnie says.

”Okay, we went swimming afterward. He had bought me this cute swimsuit for me to wear and can I just say...he’s hot as hell,” I say.

”Is he?” Lonnie asks.

”He’s probably fitter than Herkie if I’m honest,” I comment.

”But he’s a god?!” Lonnie exclaims.

”Anyways, we went swimming and he took me to this beautiful waterfall. When the sun hit it, the color of the water would change. Underneath it, there was little space to sit with a beautiful pearl stuck in the walls. There he told me how he managed to plan the date and he...noticed my scars. I told him about what happened during fencing with Aziz and he...kissed every single one,” I say shyly.

”Oh shit. Did he get intimate?” Lonnie asks.

”He then asked me about my stretch marks and my birthmarks. And he kissed those too. But with my birthmarks, he told me he believed the past life fable and told me he wanted to be my partner. Then...he kissed me,” I say.

”No fucking way. You guys made out under a waterfall? No wonder why you had a missing spot when you covered your hickeys up,” Lonnie comments.

”Are you kidding me?” I say.

Lonnie laughs and I blush in embarrassment.

”I didn’t just have them on my neck you know,” I mutter.

Lonnie’s eyes widen.

”Tell me everything,” Lonnie orders.

”After we finished making out, the sun started to set and we watched the waterfall reflect the sun. We packed everything up, got dry and went back to the dorms. When we got there, he said good night and I thought that was it...but something told me to go after him. So I did. And I kissed him again but this time it was so much rougher. He pinned me against the wall and made out with me and then we went to my room and...he officially took my v-card,”I say.

”Holy shit! I knew it, no wonder why the Tourney team hyped him up at lunch the next day,” Lonnie says.

We both laugh.

Suddenly, people start gathering around our area.

”Whats going on?” Lonnie asks.

I see Queen Leah with Mal next to her. 

Shit.

I walk over to the scene to try and get a hold of what’s going on.

”Maleficent is back on Isle. This is her daughter, Mal. Don’t you remember my proclamation to give the new generation a chance?” Ben says to Queen Leah.

”A chance to what, Ben? Destroy us? Come on, you remember don’t you? The poison apples, and the spells? My daughter was raised by fairies because of your mother’s curse. I missed her first steps, her first words...I missed it all!” Queen Leah says angrily.

”I’m so sor-“ Mal starts.

”Get away from her,” Chad says, cutting her off.

”What the hell’s your problem, Chad?” I ask him.

”Don’t do this,” Ben says to Chad.

Chad scoffs, staring at me and Ben in disgust.

”They were raised by their parents, what do you think villains teach their kids, huh? Kindness? Fair play? No way,” Chad says.

”You stole another girl’s boyfriend,” Chad says to Mal.

”Hey!” Ben exclaims.

”You enjoy hurting people,” Chad says to Jay.

”That's not true!” I exclaim.

”And you, you’re nothing but a gold digger and a cheater,” Chad says to Evie.

Evie pulls out her mirror.

”Mirror, mirror in my hand, who’s the biggest jerk in the land?” Evie says, turning it towards Chad.

It shows a reflection of himself.

”What? No way,” Chad scoffs.

Jay steps you and grabs Chad by the shirt.

”Back off, Chad. Back the hell off,” Jay says angrily to him.

Evie then sprays something at Chad. It’s a sleeping potion. Jay lets him fall back into sleep and grabs Evie’s arm. The VKs all walk off.

“Evie did something to Chad!” Audrey exclaims trying to wake him up.

I sit and watch as Lonnie and Audrey try to wake him up. I look to my parents and see as they disapprovingly nod.

God damn it.

”Adri, can’t you do something?” Audrey asks me.

”The venom in my nails should do the trick but his body will be numb for a little bit,” I say.

Audrey nods and I bend down to scratch his arm with my nail using my tiger shapeshift.

Chad wakes up immediately.

”What happened? Why am I numb?” Chad asks.

”I saved your life, idiot,” I scoff.

Audrey thanks me and I roll my eyes. Our school bell rings and we all walk to the cafeteria for lunch. Lonnie and I both pick up trays, walking side by side.

”What now?” Lonnie asks.

”Chad’s such an asshole. I wish more people knew how terrible he was to me. After this, everyone’s gonna be afraid of them I bet. Which means they’ll probably drag me under too,” I say.

Lonnie places a hand on my shoulder as I pick up my plates of food.

”I won’t let that happen to you. I promised you,” Lonnie says. 

I smile softly and we walk over to the Royals table.

I see Jay stare at me as I sit with the other Royals. He looks sad and almost disappointed. 

“You know it’s almost funny to know that they even tried to associate themselves with Royal society,” One of the girls says.

”I knew they were bad new the minute they walked in,” Audrey adds.

”Oh please, you’re all obsessed!” I exclaim. Everyone at the table stares at me then laughs.

”How would you know? You’ve been busy this whole time making puppy eyes with Jay,” Ruby, Rapunzel’s daughter says.

”Are you kidding me? Before he even asked me out on a date, you were all throwing yourselves into him before the Tourney game,” I add.

”I didn’t not!” Ruby gasps, putting down her cup of tea.

”It was so apparent, Ruby,” Lonnie says, defending me.

Ruby huffs and sips her tea.

”Adri, what do you think about the VKs? You seem to enjoy their company especially after quite an intimate date with Jay,” Audrey asks.

”Excuse me?” I ask angrily.

”Or did the whole Tourney team lie about you getting close with Jay?” Audrey asks.

Chad laughs at Audrey’s additional comment.

”What’re you laughing at, Chad? You jealous that I at least found a guy who had the balls to take me out on date without calling another girl?” I ask.

Chad’s smile drops.

”Oh? I was just thinking about how detailed Jay was when he talked about your little ‘date’. It would be a shame to tell your parents that their daughter was in love and very intimate with their enemy,” Chad says maliciously.

”And would you know about love, Chad? The only love you feel is from watching people suffer,” I scoff.

”That is not true!” Chad exclaims. 

“Then stop lying to everyone about what happened at Ben’s stupid party and fess up about how much of a man you really are!” I exclaim.

The whole table goes silent. Chad continues to eat his lunch silently. I can feel the fear radiating off of his aura. He’s scared of me. He’s scared of the truth.

”Audrey, you asked me what I think of the VKs? My only answer is this, we’re all the same people with the same issues, standards, and emotions. They’re exactly the same as we are, if not better,” I say.

”I agree with that statement,” Lonnie says. I wink in her direction as she defends me.

”Jane, come with me to throw out my lunch,” Audrey says, staring at me up and down before turning to leave with Jane at her side.

“That was awesome,” Doug mutters.

I smile softly and continue to eat my lunch. I see Chad give me a side eye and bite his tongue in embarrassment. 

“You gonna talk to Jay?” Lonnie asks me in a soft tone.

”Lonnie, can you please shut up?” Chad says frustratedly.

”I’m sorry, Prince Charming, but your just petty because my best friend embarrassed you in front of your pity girlfriend,” Lonnie scoffs.

Chad doesn’t respond and ignores her. 

Suddenly, I feel my phone buzz. It’s a text from Jay. I look up and see Jay staring back at me.

”I’m so sorry,” The text reads.

”None of this is your fault. Chad is just being an asshole as usual,” I respond.

”Thanks for sticking up for us,” His new text reads.

Rather than texting him back, I look up and face him. He lifts his head up afterwards and smiles softly. I smile back in response and give him a wink. 

Soon, Ben checks up on the VKs. They’re all silent at their table. Doug tried to talk to Evie but Chad calls him back in an angry fit. He’s just mad that I insulted him regarding our past relationship. None of us like talking about it and when I included Jay’s name, it must’ve set something off in him.

Soon, Audrey and Jane return laughing.

“How long does she think that's gonna last? Mal is just the bad girl infatuation,” Audrey comments as they walk toward their table, hovering over Mal.

”Yeah, I mean he’s never gonna make a villain, a queen,” Jane says and they both turn to our table, and everyone except me, Lonnie and Doug laugh. I see Mal swish her fingers in a spell shape. I look over and see Jane’s normal hair return, everyone looks at her in disgust. Lonnie looks down and checks her hair too to see if it changed.

”There's more than where that came from,” Mal says, coming to our table.

”Who do think you are?” Audrey asks.

”Do you think I’m kidding?” Mal asks. She whips out her spell book and Lonnie grabs me and Chad so we can leave the table.

”What’s wrong with all of you?” I mutter.

”Not now, Adri,” Lonnie says, dragging me off.

“Watch, tomorrow everyone will just all be friends and forget this bullshit ever happened,” I scoff.

Lonnie sighs and puts me in a hug.

”You’re so right. But these other royals are used to their ideals and standards. They’re so self-absorbed that it hurts. But Chad has absolutely no right to spread lies about you or anyone else about what’s your business,” Lonnie says.

”It hurts that I can’t win in love. Hell, I don’t even know if Jay really loves me,” I say hesitantly. 

Lonnie takes my hand and I turn to face her directly. Her eyes are caring and kind. The same Lonnie that I turned to every time when I needed help.

"Adri, there's no denying that Jay loves you. Otherwise, he would have considered continuing his heartbreaker attitude to get other girls attention. But no, he decided to go on a date with you. Decided to learn the things you like. He decided to talk to you about who he really is and committed to an actual relationship with you. To me, that proves just how much he loves you," Lonnie replies honestly.

I think for a minute. Her words are as true as ever. Since the day I met him, he's been interested in only me. Sure, he does flirt with other girls but it's true. He learned about me, my interests, and made me feel happy by taking me out on a date to help me see a different side of him without casual conversation. It was an intimate experience built for only me to see. That's probably why I trusted him when things went further, and when I introduced him to my parents.

"Thanks," I say to Lonnie, turning to face her again with a smile. 

Lonnie ushers me away and I go back to the dorms.

I walk towards Jay and Carlos's dorm and I hear voices coming from the other side of the oak door.

"We get the wand and leave. Jay gets the limo, Evie sprays the driver asleep, and Carlos gets the barrier open.  Our parents are counting on us," Mal says to the rest of the group.

"You want to break Ben's love spell?" Evie exclaims.

My eyes widen, "They spelled him?" I think to myself.

"Yeah. You know I've been thinking, you know, when the villains do invade Auradon and begin to loot and kick everyone out of their castles and imprison their leader and destroy everything that's good and beautiful, Ben being in love with me just seems a little extra...cruel," Mal says hesitantly.

"M?" Evie asks softly.

I can feel the tenseness in the air. 

"This is our one chance to make our parents proud of us, we can't mess this up," Mal says finally.

Evie, Carlos, Jay's aura's all change to fear, sickness, and depression. It's so strong that I'm even scared for them. After, today's events everything for them has changed drastically. I just feel pity and sorrow for all they have to go through. I start to head to my dorm, when I get a text. I pull my phone from my pocket and I see it's from Jay. 

"Can we talk?" The message reads.

"Sure," I say dryly.

I turn around and I head to the courtyard, sitting under the tree I spent most of my days under. Jay appears moments later.

"Is it true?" I start.

"Is what true?" He asks confusedly, taking a seat next to me on the grass.

"That you're only leaving to bring the wand back to the Isle," I cringe.

Jay's eyes widen and his body tenses. 

"How much did you hear?" Jay asks hesitantly.

"Does it really matter? What matters is that you lied to me! You lied to me about Mal and Ben, you lied to me about you leaving and guess what this hurts! This all hurts! To be lied to by someone I trusted with my life and to see them suffer because they don't know how to say it!" I exclaim.

"Wait, how do you know that I'm scared?" Jay asks.

"It's obvious! You literally admitted to me that you were happy here. And every time you talk about your dad your tone changes. I saw that look in your eye in the kitchen when I talked about my mom. I saw that moment of hesitation when you talked to my parents and how nervous you got around my dad and my uncle when they spoke to you, right? You don't want to leave and be evil because you'd be leaving the people you love. That's what you told me on our date. I realize now that you were talking about me. And like I told you on that same date. Don't let other people decide who you are. You can be good. I see that. Because if you weren't good, you wouldn't have the capability to love me in the ways you do," I say to Jay, speaking sincerely. After I speak, I could barely notice that I had tears coming from my eyes. My eyes are probably morphed into my tiger for by now. Jay looks directly into my eyes, shocked by my appearance. But then he stops to think. Jay takes in my words deeply, thinking in such deep thought. His eyes have a light glaze to them now. 

"Why are you always right?" Jay chuckles softly through sad eyes.

I laugh and lean over to kiss him. Our lips touch softly. Compared to the other times we've kissed, this kiss was full of emotion. Sweet, soft, gentle, and kind. Something I never expected from him. I part the kiss after a couple of moments. 

"You're an absolute idiot you know that?" I tell him.

"You are too for not realizing I said the first I love you," Jay says.

I laugh softly, and he looks and me with admiration in his eyes.

"It was subtle!" I say.

"Nice save, dumbass," Jay says, recalling our last conversation under the tree.

"Thanks for noticing," I reply in the same fashion.

We laugh in unison, then Jay stops and pushes a hair behind my ear.

"You've been right this whole time, you know that? So, what do you think I should do?" Jay asks.

"Please, try and convince the others. They need to realize that all they need to be happy is right in front of them. They'll understand if they know what's best for them," I say sincerely.

Jay pecks lips shortly.

"God, I love you," Jay says in a chuckle.

"I love you too," I say softly.

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

It's Coronation day at last! I wear this beautiful dress  pin.it/5TcjfhI

I wonder how Jay feels as I do the final touches of my hair and makeup. I head out to the door where everyone is dressed up and heading down the stairs to their limos. I meet my brother down at the end of the stairs. 

"You look nice!" Aziz compliments.

"You don't look to bad yourself," I say playfully.

"Hey guys, you ready for this coronation party?" Jake says strutting towards us.

"I'm scared out of my fucking mind right now, so do you mind?" I say sharply.

"Damn, is being an advisor really that serious?" Jake asks.

"Essentially, she has to carry out all of Ben's proclamations and duties," Aziz explains.

"So, you run the whole kingdom?' Jake asks.

"In a literal sense, yes. But in status, no. You can just say I'm the brains and beauty of the operation," I said snarkily.

"No doubt about it," Jake says flirtatiously.

"Hey, do you mind not trying to take my girl?" Jay says appearing from the other side of the room.

"Right. Sorry, man," Jake agrees nervously, afraid that Jay might do something to him.

"Hey, babe," I say shortly, kissing him on the cheek.

"Looking strikingly beautiful as always. You nervous?" Jay asks.

"I mean I'm about to get the biggest job of my life handed to me in one fall swoop so, maybe," I say.

"Didn't you just say you're scared out of your mind?" Aziz corrects.

"Your right, I lied," I mutter in defeat.

Jay puts an arm around my waist and kisses my forehead.

"You'll be perfect. Besides, you've already got enough skills and beauty to prove how good you are," Jay compliments.

I roll my eyes and smile softly at his comment.

Carlos comes towards us.

"Hey guys, we gotta go now. The limos are here," Carlos reminds us.

The boys gather themselves leaving me and Carlos alone.

"Did you do that just so you could talk to me?" I ask.

"Maybe," Carlos replies.

Me and the gray-haired boy laugh.

"I know we don't talk much but, Jay has told me a ton about you," Carlos says.

"That's natural. You're his best friend, he talks about you and his's experiences all the time in Biology," I add.

"Really?" He asks.

"Yeah, he tells me pretty much everything," I say.

Suddenly, my mind wanders back to their plan for today. This is my chance to convince Carlos.

"You know, Jay is kinda tough. It takes him a little bit of a push to help him open up," I say.

"From what I've heard you're the only person who's done that and successfully come out without a black eye," Carlos comments. I giggle at the notion.

"But he hesitates a lot, there's still somethings I don't know too much about him but one thing that I do know is that he doesn't know what direction to take in times of struggle. And to make the right choice, I tell him not to let other people decide what's best for him. What do you think about that?" I ask.

Carlos thinks for a bit.

"Well, if I'm honest, I agree with you. Though I kind of struggle with it myself. My mom used to order me around a lot so...trauma," Carlos says.

"Same here! Always so pushy, right?" I comment.

"Too pushy. But as far as Jay goes, he's pretty hard to convince sometimes if he doesn't have any purpose or interest in something. But when it comes to decision-making, he struggles because he's also pressure by his dad to do the things he expects of him. It's as simple as that," Carlos says. 

I can feel the sincerity in his voice.

"You know, no one should ever have to come across anything like that. Hell, I've been through it enough times that eventually I had to let go and decide for myself what I wanted to do," I say.

"When'd you realize that?" Carlos asks.

"When I met Jay," I reply.

Carlos smiles at my comment.

"He's my best friend and I care about him a lot. So, if you ever need help when things get difficult, just know I'm here to help," Carlos says.

I smile softly at his words, taking in the kindness of his offering.

"I should go, by the way, you look cute," I say, walking towards the exit. Carlos smiles as I walk away towards the limo.

"There you are! Come on, let's go," Aziz says. I'm hauled into the limo and we drive to the cathedral. There's a blue carpet lined out for us with press lining the barricades.

I step out, careful not to trip and I walk onto the carpet, strutting as I walk. I stop in front of the first row of cameras. The press call my name to alert my attention. I can hear Snow White reporting on everyone else's outfits. As I reach her, she announces my name.

"Adri! It's so nice to see you, darling. Who are you wearing tonight?" Snow White asks.

"I'm wearing a look from Versace's upcoming spring line," I say.

"It looks absolutely beautiful on that figure of yours! Now I have a couple of questions, your hiatus from social media has sparked many rumors among the music industry, are there projects of any kind that we can expect in the future?" Snow White asks.

HOW THE HELL DO I RESPOND? I should've called my publicist before this. I wasn't aware that people actually streamed my music.

"Well, now that my music is more mainstream currently, I have a couple of projects that I could finalize and release. By the way, I'm going to start returning to my socials to catch my fans up on my life and on my art," I say.

"Any albums we could expect to hear?" She asks.

"Possibly, I might have to cook a couple of things up but hopefully I'll have a new release soon," I respond.

"Thank you so much, Adri," Snow White finishes, and I continue down the carpet. As I walk down the carpet, I spot a group of boys at the end of the carpet. Hold on...is that? HOLY CRAP BTS IS HERE?????

I walk quickly down the carpet, I tap the shoulder of the tallest member, my good friend Namjoon.

"Adri? Oh my god, how are you?" Namjoon exclaims. He hugs me tightly. 

"I'm good! Annyeong!" I say turning to greet the other boys.

They realize that I'm beside Namjoon and all come to greet.

You might be asking how I know them. Well....to be honest, I wrote a couple of songs for them with Namjoon as my partner. He's actually the person who taught me how to write in the first place, and I composed a couple of their tracks with the help of Yoongi, Lonnie's cousin.

”You nervous?” Jungkook asks me.

”Yeah, it’s like the biggest job of my life and comes with tons of responsibility,” I say.

”If it’s anything like being an idol, you’ll be just fine,” Taehyung says.

I laugh and roll my eyes.

”It’s not that simple, Taehyung,” I say.

”Just loosen up! If anything you’ll mature a little more,” Jin jokes.

”You do know I’m the same age as Jungkook right?” I ask Jin.

”Whatever,” Jin brushes off. I laugh at their actions.

”Hey, if you need anything just text me,” Namjoon says. I nod in agreement and carry on.

I continue and see familiar faces everywhere, my mom’s friends, my dad’s friends, my co-workers, my friends, my family friends. And I end up inside the cathedral next to the one person who helps me out the most.

”Brendon!” I call out.

Ah, yes. Brendon Urie, my co-worker, family best friend.

”What’s up, tiger!” Brendon says.

“Nothing much, just literally about to die inside because of the most important thing in my life,” I say.

”You should’ve called your publicist...” He assumes.

”I know! They asked me so many questions about my music and people keep asking me about my new position as advisor and I don’t know what to say half the damn time,” I say, letting out all my frustration.

”Your gonna suck,” Brendon says.

”Wait what?” I turn to face him confused by his words.

”Your gonna be terrible. Your gonna stumble like usual and stutter. Then your gonna cry and run off like you usually do. You're gonna absolutely suck when you have to confront all these people who have their eyes not only on Ben, it on you as his representative, and your gonna suck because your gonna be a big ‘ol wuss about the situation. Do you want to be a wuss?” Brendon says.

”No,” I say softly.

”Then go suck. Suck with pride,” Brendon says.

I laugh at his confrontation speech.

”Now, that’s a creative way to get me to loosen up,” I say.

”You’re so picky on yourself even when you tell other people not to. It sucks and I know that. You’ve got ambition, that’s all it takes,” Brendon says.

”Thanks,” I say softly.

”Knock 'em dead, kid,” Brendon says.

I squeeze through the people and end up towards the from next to Lonnie. Audrey and Chad link arms and look at me with a scowl on their faces.

”You’ve got no date?” Audrey asks.

”What do you mean? My date’s right next to me,” I say, linking arms with Lonnie.

Lonnie laughs at the situation and I snicker.

”I thought you were coming with Jay?” Lonnie asks.

”Sure, he did ask and I did say yes. But right now he’s occupied. So we’ll probably see each other at the after-party,” I explain, pointing up to the balcony. Jay spots me and waves. I smile and wave shyly.

”You know he’s been staring the whole time,” Arabella says, coming from behind us.

”Really now?” I ask, raising a brow.

”He’s probably jealous that you were talking to the Bangtan boys and Brendon,” Arabella says.

”You a spy now, Bella!” Lonnie asks.

”What? I’m observant. I’ve got a sailor’s eye,” Arabella says.

”Good, keep tabs on him,” I say as I think.

Arabella turns to me confused.

”I want him to be jealous. It makes the party more satisfying,” I say with a smirk.

”Oh...I get what you mean,” Arabella realizes.

Lonnie now turns to me with the same expression Arabella had before.

”I don’t get it,” Lonnie says.

”I’m gonna make him jealous so he could show me if he’s as possessive as I think he is or not,” I explain.

Lonnie nods in understanding.

”But didn’t you say he asked about Jake and Aziz when they-“

”Yes, he did. But that was just an assumption of interest, but we’re dating now. Even if it isn’t completely public, I just want to see how he acts under pressure,” I say.

Suddenly, the chorus starts, and the trumpets are sounded. I see Mal escorted in by us. I wave to her and she waves back with a smile on her face. 

“You look hot,” She mouths to me.

I giggle and roll my eyes.

We all turn to face the doors as they open. Ben walks through them and we all bow as he passes.

Fairy Godmother starts by taking her wand from the case and starts to say Ben’s vow. Ben agrees to the bow but before he’s christened, Jane takes the wand from her mother’s hand.

Everyone turns to face the girl who exclaims,” If you can't make me beautiful then I’ll have to do it myself!”

Mal rushes towards her face fights the wand out of her hand.

Evie, Carlos, and Jay appear and stand by Mal.

”I knew it!” Audrey exclaims trying to approach Mal.

I step in front of her.

”Do you want to get hurt?” I say, holding her back.

Audrey hesitates but eventually hides behind me.

Me, Lonnie, and Arabella step in front of the group behind us as self-sacrifice protection from the wand.

”Mal, give me the wand,” Ben calls to her.

”Step back!” Mal exclaims.

”Revenge time,” Jay says, hesitating.

Lonnie turns to face me, searching for a reaction.

Sure, I’m hurt by his words but all that matters is protecting these people. Suddenly, he turns to look at me. His eyes, plead almost whispering “I’m sorry”. And I nod.

”You really want to do this?” Ben asks.

”We have no choice our parents-“ Mal starts.

”Your parents made their choice. Now it’s time for you to make yours,” Ben says.

“I think I want to be good,” Mal hesitates, relaxing her body.

”You are good,” Ben says.

”How do you know that?” Mal asks with fear in her voice.

“Because I’m listening to my heart,” Ben says.

The group relaxes. Mal thinks for a minute and turns to face her friends.

“I want to listen to my heart too. And my heart is telling me we are not our parents. I mean, stealing things doesn’t make you happy, Tourney, Victory pizza with the team and going dates makes you happy,” Mal starts turning to Jay.

”Yeah!” Jake says from the middle of the crowd. Everyone snickers.

Jay grows a blush on his cheeks and then turns to look at me with admiring eyes.

He smiles softly and winks in this direction.

Mal continues.

“And scratching Dude’s belly makes you happy, who would’ve thought?” Mal says to Carlos who holds Dude, the campus dog in his arms.

”And you do not need to play dumb to get a boyfriend, you are so smart,” Mal says to Evie.

”And I don’t want to take over the world and be evil. I want to go to school and be with Ben. Because that makes me happy. Us being friends makes me happy,” Mal says.

Mal puts her fist out in a huddle.

”I choose good, guys,” Mall says laughing through her smile.

The rest of the group hesitates. Mal’s eyes fill with worry until Jay steps forward and put his fist in the huddle too.

”I choose good, too,” Jay agrees.

I smile at his action and he turns to face me again and winks at me this time.

I roll my eyes at his action.

God, I love him.

Eventually, the rest of the group including Ben agrees that the VKs will stay in Auradon and everyone claps.

Until a green cloud of smoke covers the cathedral. Everyone takes cover until the clouding stops.

”I’m back!” Maleficent says revealing herself among the smoke.

We all look at her in shock.

”Go away, mother,” Mal says exasperated by the situation.

”Oh don’t be ridiculous, just give me the wand,” Maleficent orders her daughter.

The Fairy Godmother starts to cast a spell but then times stops. 

I feel nothing, see nothing, I can only breathe. So, that’s what happens when time stops. I try to yell or scream but nothing comes out. I just stay in the same position I was in before. Then I can feel things again. I look around and see the situation in different eyes. It’s changed. I step away from the group behind me and everyone starts to realize that they need to file out of the cathedral.

I run over to Jay and he takes me in a warm embrace.

”I told you it would work!” I say happily.

”I know! You’re always right, your so smart and beautiful and-“ Jay starts but then leans in to kiss me.

I break the kiss.

”Hey, don’t do that. We don’t want anyone to see,” I say.

”Who cares?” Jay says.

”Babe, we aren’t exactly public, you know. Royalty drama,” I assume.

He nods in realization.

”Can I kiss you at school though?” Jay asks.

”I guess. Since you pretty much told everyone we were dating but just keep it within the school. The press will hound you,” I say.

”Of course, babe. Anything for you,” He says, then kissing my forehead.

I giggle softly and join the core four and Ben.

The after-party begins and we all gather in celebration, dancing together, talking to each other, introducing each other to new people. 

But most of all, I leave with a new job and a new love.

[spideychelle-romanogers]

Scared of A Heart I Couldn’t Silence

Making of Michelle Jones - Prologue, Chapter 11

Start from the beginning || Series Masterlist || Previous Chapter

After catching Michelle stealing jewels, the new mystery she brings into Peter's life defines his next adventure. There are new dangers coming to NYC and Michelle is playing a bigger part in Spider-Man's mission than Peter ever imagined.

Chapter 11: “Shut up,” she immediately quipped back with a smile. Her eyes looked to something off just below his face. Ned approached, about to greet Michelle. Before he could get a full word out, she took a finger and turned his chin before he could stop her. “Peter, is that-”

“Is that a hickey?!” Ned asked, a little too loud. Michelle started cracking up even louder and suddenly the whole hallway was staring at them.

T/W: none  Beta: Splendid_Splendont  Tags: spideychelle, pan!Peter, demi!Michelle, slow burn

“So Tony Stark hates me,” Michelle started as she entered the tunnel, throwing her backpack to the ground. “That’s not something you get to say every day. I guess I did threaten him with a frying pan, but in my defense I thought I saw a rat.”

“Can we set up traps for this rat situation?” Peter asked.

“Focus.”

“Mr. Stark does not hate you,” he insisted. “He said he thinks you’re smart.”

“I am smart. He also hates me,” she told him with a smile. “He even offered me money to tell you I quit.”

“He what?” Peter was surprised. He remembered being sent home early when Tony visited, but it only felt like a coincidence that he and Michelle were left alone.

“Why is he so worried about me?” She pulled up the tracker on one of the screens and Peter came closer.

“You’re a kid,” he answered from right beside her.

“So are you,” she pointed out. He regretted ever telling her how old he was.

“You don’t have superpowers,” he said reaching to tap the screen before getting his hand slapped. “ Hey! ”

“Until you read the manual, these screens are my babies.”

“This is our headquarters!”

“This is my tunnel! I don’t touch your web shooters, you don’t touch my screens,” she asserted. “And for the record, I do have superpowers.” She grinned up at him, despite their squabbling. Michelle was so different now. Everything about her radiated good energy, she was so much happier even on the dullest days.

“Being an asshole doesn’t count,” Peter joked back at her, smiling behind the suit. She didn’t even pretend to be offended, she just kept smiling.

They kept having to break their stares. Peter didn’t know how to address the strange tension but it didn’t seem like Michelle was making any effort. He wondered if she even noticed their behavior or if it all meant nothing to her.

Peter brought her the journal again. He pulled it out of his backpack to show it to her. This time, it had an entry regarding the dream about his parents. He wouldn’t be able to tell anyone about that, but maybe he could share it with Michelle without having to talk about it. She didn’t seem to read the journal anymore if he just left it lying around. So he handed it directly to her this time.

When she started skimming through the pages to get to the new entries, he started speaking to her. He felt too nervous at the idea of her reading it in front of him. “So is your dad still in recovery?”

Michelle shook her head. “No. Strangely enough, he only needed a few days of bed rest. Of course, the ‘wounds’ need to heal but his back is doing fine.” Looking up at him when she found her page, she shook her head a little and shrugged. “There are a few relapses though.”

“Relapses?”

“They said he’ll feel this pain every once in a while. Like a stabbing pain. They said he’s fine, though, it’s just a side effect. Weird, right?” She didn’t look too concerned. “But at least he’s better. We thought he was going to end up in a wheelchair. He’s been all over the house now. Fixing things, decorating, singing. Spidey, I can’t tell you how happy I am.”

Despite how happy he felt for her, Peter still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

Peter’s hands were full juggling all the materials for the science fair presentation. He’d warned Aunt May ahead of time. He figured when she woke him up earlier than usual that she would be going to his school with him on the subway, giving him an extra hand. Instead, he woke to find Aunt May in the kitchen wearing pajamas and toasting Eggos. He watched her, baffled that she clearly wasn’t helping him.

“There’s a surprise waiting for you outside,” Aunt May said before stuffing Eggo waffles into his mouth. He didn’t know how he was expected to carry all of this so he couldn’t even stop her with his hands full. Hurrying out of the building, he wondered how mad Michelle would be if he accidentally dropped a display onto the subway tracks. Distracted in his worry, he was startled into dropping the board as he passed a parked truck and heard his name.

“HEY, PARKER!” she called out to him. He looked directly up to see Michelle just overhead peering down at him through the window of the truck. Waffles still in his mouth, he couldn’t answer. “This is a great look on you.”

Peter put down one of the bags and pulled out the waffles, chuckling. “What are you doing up there?”

“Get in, loser, we’re going to school,” she answered as if she hadn’t heard him. Opening the truck door, she climbed her way down to help him pick up the bags and the presentation board. “This is my dad’s new truck. His new boss lets him borrow it to drive home in it.”

“I figured I’d give you two little scientists a ride,” David piped in as he walked around the truck. He extended a hand to Peter, like he always did. “It’s good to see you, Peter. How’s May?”

“Asleep again, probably,” Peter joked, shaking his hand.

“Don’t call us little, dad,” Michelle interjected as she put the last of the bags in the truck. She climbed back into the car and extended a hand to help Peter up. Her father spotted him from behind while he climbed onto one  of the wheel covers. David took the presentation board to put it in the back of the truck with the bags.

“Did I tell you you should be a lawyer yet, Peter?” David asked from the back. Peter was about to say yes when he realized he was never meant to overhear the conversation about Michelle’s brother’s lawyer.

“No sir,” Peter grunted out as he pretended hoisting himself into the truck was difficult, but also like it didn’t hurt his still healing graze.

"Dad, it’s not a good joke,” Michelle warned as she reached over and shut the door behind Peter. David climbed into the other side with ease. Michelle seemed to expect it now but Peter was impressed. He really didn’t have much recovery time after the surgery.

“My Michelle is going to be a great lawyer,” David went on as he started the car. Michelle groaned. “Much better than that boy we hired.”

“Dad.”

“Yale or Harvard. I’m not picky. She will probably go for Yale for undergrad. They’re bigger on the humanities and Michelle here loves to read. I’m sure you know that, though, Peter.”

“I do.” This was enjoyable. David was such a proud and happy man with a booming voice. Michelle had her face buried in her hands when she wasn’t hiding it behind her phone navigating the bluetooth radio. She found a song she liked and tried to put up the volume to drown out her father’s boasting.

“How about you, Peter? You thinking about college yet?”

“We’re both Freshmen,” Michelle piped in, embarrassed.

“You’ve wanted to go to an Ivy since you were seven. I’m sure Peter at least has an idea of what he wants to do.”

Peter had an answer. He wanted to invent. He would go anywhere that would let him keep inventing. If he went to college at all, that was. Being a superhero didn’t really seem to lend him the time.

But being that Michelle knew all of that about Spider-Man, Peter couldn’t answer truthfully.

“My Stark internship comes with good connections at MIT. If I’m lucky, maybe they will help me apply. I’ve always loved-” Peter pulled out the most obscure major he could think of “-industrial engineering.” He didn’t see Michelle shaking her head until he finished.

“Industrial engineering!” her father called out loudly. “Amazing! I’m an industrial engineer.”

Peter should have stopped himself.

“Dad, you’re drowning out the music,” Michelle complained, clearly trying to rescue Peter.

“I don’t think you can call this music. This is noise.” Michelle groaned. “Hand me the phone.”

In minutes, when her father finally figured out how to work the radio, the music turned into a soft jazz. They were silent for one song, as Michelle and Peter exchanged an awkward smile in traffic. Then the song changed and Michelle’s father stirred excitedly. It was just the piano intro to a song Peter didn’t recognize yet. Michelle immediately rolled her eyes before smiling fondly.

“ Wise men say- ” went the voice on the radio.

“Please don’t sing,” Michelle half-heartedly begged, clearly resigned to her fate.

“You love this song.” Immediately, Michelle’s father boosted the volume and sang along, catching up with the lyrics: “ But I can’t help falling in love with you- Peter, do you know this song?”

“Dad!”

“Son, do you know the song?”

“Y-yes,” Peter answered unsure, as though he had to say yes even if it wasn’t true. He faintly recalled the lyrics to the song from a movie Aunt May liked.

“Sing with me,” her father suggested. In that deep voice, it felt more like a command.

“Dad!”

“ Some things are meant to be, ” David continued alone. This part Peter knew for sure. Looking at Michelle’s mortified face, Peter realized he was enjoying this.

“ Take my hand, take my whole life, too, ” they both sang loudly as Michelle’s father put the volume up louder and opened the windows. They were in traffic, clearly making a scene. Michelle scoffed before finally joining in.

“ For I can't help falling in love with you. ” The three of them sang along for the whole song before going on to pick songs they all knew so they could sing through the traffic.

Peter was so happy to see this family doing better, the Jones were good people and deserved so much better than what they got.

Peter was stuffing the last of the materials into his locker, waiting for Ned to join him so they could walk to their first class together. He left Michelle back in the parking lot with the presentation board, her father sending him away so he wouldn’t be late for school. Manhattan traffic was nothing to joke about. Despite leaving an hour earlier than usual, they were still almost late.

Still, suddenly she was there at his side, smiling at something.

“I know your secret,” Michelle joked. Peter just stared at her, doing his best to look confused and not horrified. “You don’t really want to be an industrial engineer.” Peter couldn’t even pretend to laugh.

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry my dad cornered you like that. We’re Freshmen,” she said, having difficulty coming up with words as she slowed down awkwardly. “I mean, we have a lot of time to think about college. Not everyone spells it out so early. I just don’t want you to feel bad, if that made you feel bad.” Finally, Peter chuckled.

“It didn’t. I’m just not really thinking about college yet.” Michelle nodded. Even despite their differences, she didn’t seem bothered at all by his admittance. “It’s sweet of you to worry about my feelings though,” he mocked quietly.

“Shut up,” she immediately quipped back with a smile. Her eyes looked to something off just below his face. Ned approached, about to greet Michelle. Before he could get a full word out, she took a finger and turned his chin before he could stop her. “Peter, is that-”

“Is that a hickey?!” Ned asked, a little too loud. Michelle started cracking up even louder and suddenly the whole hallway was staring at them.

“Shut up, guys,” he begged, swatting Michelle’s hand away.

“Oh man, I never took Liz for a biter,” Michelle spilled the joke quietly between loud laughs. “That makeup isn’t helping.” Peter really wished sometimes that he would be able to give come back. The makeup was enough to keep it from looking like he was strangled, but it wasn’t like he could say that.

“It was Liz?” Ned whispered too loud.

“I’m not going to lie, I’m impressed,” Michelle joshed, finally composing herself. “Liz is a junior.”

“It wasn’t Liz,” Peter mumbled quietly. Ned looked relieved that he hadn’t missed out on news.

“Secret girlfriend?” Michelle sounded genuinely shocked for once. “Parker, you’re finally interesting,” she quipped, amused as she walked off. It was like she existed just to create chaos and then walk away. The words ‘secret girlfriend’ were enough to launch Ned into a rant about their friendship, while Peter had to figure out just how he was going to excuse the marks.

“Isn’t it time to fire your girlfriend?” Tony asserted like they both knew it was only a temporary job. Peter was in his office, doing his best not to stare at all the displays in the room. There were all these little nuggets of superhero history in the room, standing like trophies in display cases. Tony’s first mask was closest to his desk and Peter wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch it.

“Not my girl-” Peter was never going to win on the girlfriend front with Tony. Still, he tried. “-I am not firing Michelle. And you shouldn’t be offering her money behind my back.” Truth be told, Peter didn’t understand this part. When it came to Tony Stark, there was so much about the man’s behavior that didn’t make any sense.

Peter couldn’t test to be an Avenger. He had to report to Happy if anything came up. Tony was a rich, busy man - a superhero - who often seemed disinterested in Peter’s smaller issues. Peter could understand why, but then Tony turned around and would take interest in the smallest of things going on in Peter’s life.

This Michelle thing, for example, made Peter feel like Tony meant to isolate him into a lonely bubble where no one could really know Spider-Man.

Tony didn’t even defend himself. Instead, he changed the subject.

“Are you going to be okay training with hired help until I get back?” he asked suddenly after a long silence where he fiddled with the paperwork on his desk, scrambling to put it all in a clean pile before covering it, using books like a paperweight.

“Back from where? Are you traveling?” Peter asked, the crack in his voice making it clear the idea panicked him.

“I’m in the city, I just won’t be available for a while. There’s this merger going on. Messy business. I don’t like going into public partnerships. Do me a favor, kid?”

“What?” Kid was becoming his first name when it came to Mr. Stark.

“Listen to me, I’m not trying to get rid of your friend. If you really care about her, I think you know you can’t keep this up. One day, they are going to find her, they will connect her to you, and then she will be in danger. She has a family to think about and people who want her safe. Including me, including you. She’s just a kid, Peter, and she’s not like you. She can’t save herself.”

Peter wanted Tony to be wrong. Michelle was invincible. However, he thought about what would happen if someone like the bank robbers or any other villain of the week tried to hurt her. He would do anything to keep her safe and that meant he was compromised.

“It’s God’s miracle, May, really,” David announced. He’d come over to their apartment to talk to May, and Peter felt a little strange seeing him without Michelle. She was in the decathlon team so she didn’t come with him. He and May were good friends but Peter wasn’t so sure he’d ever really seen him come over before other than the few times after Uncle Ben died.

“I don’t really believe in miracles, David. But this is all so sudden,” she mused, smiling as she unpacked groceries. He was planning on helping her cook dinner. They were celebrating his recovery tonight, Michelle would join them later. Peter had gotten a little suspicious that May and David were flirting last time they spoke, but when he asked about it, May reacted so quickly he dismissed the subject.

According to her, she met David while she and Uncle Ben were married. David and Ben were co-workers and best friends for a long time before David went off to work somewhere else. May and David used to tease Ben all of the time, partners in crime in making the silent man blush. It was part of why he and May got so close after his death. Now they seemed more like best friends, though they had so little in common. May had that magic, she could charm anyone.

“Are we having more company over? I bought extra just in case,” Aunt May noted, pulling out a few extra pork loins for baking when she saw him reach for just one.

“No, no, just the four of us. I told Michelle to invite friends if she wanted but I don’t know if she did.” Peter did his best to just focus on his homework, but it was so easy to eavesdrop with them right there. They went on cooking like he wasn’t in the room.

“What about you? Don’t you have work friends?” Aunt May teased as she always did. 

“New job, new people. I’ll be on my feet with them soon,” he said optimistically. Peter really wanted to stop listening but the man was so mysterious. “It still hurts but they said it would stop soon, that it was a matter of not taking any medication to help with the pain. I threw away all of my old painkillers, and I’m doing everything they’ve said, so I know it’ll all work out fine.” It was so nice to hear David’s optimism. Despite the commanding, deep voice of his that reminded Peter so much of Michelle, their outlooks were drastically different. ”How about you? Get that promotion?” Peter stopped writing. Aunt May noticed and got very quiet, enough to make David turn to him and turn back quickly. “I think the pork is ready to go in,” he said, moving to open the oven door.

After waiting just enough time, Peter picked up his things and moved to his room to give them privacy. He could still hear them from his room, regretfully.

“No news yet,” May confirmed after a while. “But I’m keeping my head up.”

“It’s your turn for a miracle.” 

“Maybe,” she agreed. Peter smiled. “You know, Peter and Michelle are such good friends lately.”

“I’m just happy to see her talking to someone. I was worried for awhile that she didn’t have any friends. And Peter is such a good kid.”

“Yeah.” Peter was still pleased with the conversation. Of course, May threw in a curveball. “Do you think anything’s….going on there?” David’s laugh sounded as awkward as Peter felt.

“Let’s not go too far.” Peter agreed, embarrassed even though they didn’t know he heard. “But he is a good kid. I know you were worried but you’re doing so great with him,” he heard David say.

“I really try,” May replied. She sounded fine until he heard David’s reply.

“What’s wrong?” Peter winced, his mind guessing at her expression.

“I just feel like he’s so in his head sometimes. I don’t know how to help him.” Peter reached over to his phone and started blasting music, wishing his room wasn’t so close to the kitchen.

Once the food was ready, Peter heard footsteps at the door. He was rushing before the doorbell even rang. He wasn’t going to admit he rushed to get there first so he could talk to Michelle, but he was abnormally fast to get the door. The doorbell rang just as he opened the door.

“You’re still doing that,” Michelle noted, recalling the last time he opened the door just as she knocked. Peter was about to make excuses when he saw Ned at the door. They were both wearing their bright yellow decathlon jackets.

“Hey man,” Ned piped up pleasantly. They both looked a little confused. Peter looked surprised enough to confuse him. “Michelle said there was a dinner?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, awkwardly moving to unblock the door. Just as Michelle passed, he stopped her. “Hey, why’d you invite Ned?” he asked curiously. He knew for a fact Michelle didn’t really consider him a friend, even if she was fond of his company. At times, more fond of it than Peter’s company.

“I wanted my dad to think I had more friends,” she answered simply before walking off.

After dinner, Ned and Michelle stayed behind because David was still talking to May. In his room, Ned was still drilling Peter about his secret girlfriend. Amused, Michelle was merely roaming the room with a smirk as she fiddled with his Star Wars figurines. Peter couldn’t really help but watch after her. He was self-conscious about her being in his room. She’d never really been there before. Whenever they studied it was in the living room. With a thought that made him blush, he realized she probably wouldn’t be allowed there if Ned wasn’t there with her.

“Clearly, we’re asking the wrong questions,” Michelle interrupted Ned’s ranting. “Really, we should be asking, how embarrassing is she?” She smirked at Peter, clearly enjoying this. “Peter would be telling us if he wanted to brag, but he doesn’t. He’s not that interesting, so clearly it’s her that has a problem.”

“Maybe she’s embarrassed by him, we are kind of losers,” Ned mused. Michelle frowned slightly. Peter knew she’d be unwilling to pay him the compliment that was clearly sitting on her tongue.

“No, I’m sure she’s embarrassing,” she said, continuing her mocking while pacing the room like it was an interrogation suite. “So Peter, what’s wrong with her? There are right and wrong answers here, so don’t be an ass.”

Peter could not understand how Michelle could be so nice to Spider-Man but so jokingly malicious with Peter. Well, he had an idea, but he wasn’t willing to face facts there.

“ Michelle! We’re leaving, ” David announced through the door. Saved by the bell.

“Any luck with the tracker?” Spider-Man asked Michelle as he stepped into the tunnel.

“They’re still moving,” she answered, reading a file on the screen. “I ordered one of the trackers to come back. I realized it might have some DNA on it that could give us an idea of what these guys are. That is, if we’re sticking to the not-human theory.” She eyed him doubtfully.

“Believe me, Michelle. I know what I saw.”

“Well, I ran it through the lab Tony gave me. It came back positive for genetic mutation. I don’t really know where to go from there so I’ve been researching the labs that are currently working in the area. The tracker has linked them only to Manhattan, which narrows it down.” Peter watched her screen, impressed by how quickly she was getting through the company lists. He briefly saw a name that made his stomach churn with recognition. It was taken off the list by the program. “What happened to Oscorp?”

“They operate in Brooklyn and specialize in a different kind of biochem, mainly on stem cell research and radioactivity. No license for performing experiments with genetic mutation,” she answered thoughtfully. “No connection.”

Peter swallowed. She was right, but he wanted them back on the list for selfish reasons. She was waiting for an answer. “How is your dad doing?” He had to keep up the impression that he wasn’t getting updates anywhere else.

“He’s good. He’s doing the walking, the exercise, the new diet. He’s really taking everything very seriously. I still can’t believe it’s over…..I found the name of the one guy who worked at the bank the Kerrig robbers hit last.”

“Oh?” Peter couldn’t get his mind off of Oscorp. If they were involved, this really was too dangerous for Michelle. She rambled off details about the man, his high-level job with the bank chain they robbed, a lack of connection between the other robbers and the bank chain, how it wasn’t the only bank chain they robbed so it couldn’t be the full motive. They robbed five different chains in total so far, with no expectations of whether they’d go after more. Peter mumbled something about Michelle needing to find out why the man was fired before he hurried off to think.

The next day, David picked Peter up again with Michelle to take them both to school. He had to wake up early and getting to school took longer this way, but Peter didn’t want to refuse when David offered. It was much more fun and a lot less stressful to drive in rather than take the subway into midtown. Besides, Michelle promised to ask her dad to drive the truck a little too close to Flash’s new car. 

The trip was fun, the three of them singing the entire time and not even talking. It’d been awhile since he felt able to just be a carefree kid and the little car rides made him escape the world for a minute. They were taller than every other car on the road, wind blowing through the open windows and rushing into their hair. Nothing could touch them. 

As Peter climbed down, he felt refreshed. David got out to help Michelle out through his side when he suddenly keeled over, calling out at first and then just groaning. Michelle dropped the backpack she had been handing him and hopped out of the truck as Peter rushed to his side. It was only a few seconds until he stopped crunching himself in. He gasped air in before finally standing back up. Despite the fear in her eyes, Michelle looked at Peter like he was the one who needed comforting. Like it was routine.

“It’s just the pains we were talking about, Peter. He’s fine. You’re fine, right?” she asked, her voice small and unsure. Her father nodded, sucking in another breath.

“Sorry you had to see that, Peter,” he lamented. He looked embarrassed. Looking to Michelle, she clearly wasn’t over it. She just watched her father nervously, afraid like she looked on the day before the surgery.

It came to Peter loud and clear then: Michelle was not invincible. Like him, she was just young and brave, but it wasn’t enough to make her untouchable.

He couldn’t keep putting her in danger.

“Oh, Michelle, your backpack,” David said. In the fall, it seemed to have opened and pour out its contents. David was bending over to pick it up when they all saw it. The burner phone, open on the ground next to her pens and books. Michelle and her father exchanged looks, and Peter was too horrified to say anything.

“Peter, I-I’ll meet you inside,” Michelle said in a weak, scared voice, not even looking at him. He couldn’t counter her on that, so he walked into the school wondering just what her father could think she was doing with a burner.

Peter couldn’t find Michelle for the rest of the day. Just when he wondered if she’d missed the school day, she popped up at his locker looking pale.

“Look, about the phone-” Michelle started nervously. Peter could only imagine how that talk went with her father.

“It’s none of my business,” Peter answered immediately, with a supportive smile.

“No, it’s just for-”

“Michelle, it’s fine. You have nothing to explain,” Peter offered her the way out. Sighing, she seemed disappointed she couldn’t explain. Peter appreciated that she wanted to tell the truth but he knew he’d have to act as though he believed her, and she seemed to see right through his lies. She looked around, clearly looking for a change of subject. Their eyes landed on a sign for the Winter Formal.

“So I guess you’re going to that lame winter dance?” she joked.

“Of course not.” He could imagine any number of things he’d rather be doing.

“Not going? What about your girlfriend?” Michelle asked, feigning shock.

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Peter muttered, realizing that he blushed every time she mentioned it. It was probably the only reason she still thought it was funny. “Why don’t you believe me?”

“It would explain a lot about you.”

“How so?”

“Well, you're moody and you disappear all the time. Not just during school work, but in the middle of any conversation.” Peter marveled at how easily telling the truth came to Michelle, like nothing she said was meant to bother him. “And if not, then what’s that hickey on your neck?”

“It’s not a hickey.” Peter regretted denying it. Trying to think of an excuse, he settled on hoping the truth wouldn’t lead to any questions. “It’s a bruise.”

Michelle’s smile was gone suddenly. “Please tell me it wasn’t Flash,” she asked carefully, her tone measured and serious. Her expression and body language went into such a change, like she was contemplating a plan of action. Peter stared at her like she was a vision, unreal in how easy it was to get her to care about his problems despite her icy attitude. “Peter?”

Even if his life as Spider-Man was too dangerous for her, he refused to lose her.

“Michelle, do you want to go to the dance with me?” he answered before he could stop himself. If he couldn’t be around her as Spider-Man anymore, he had to make her want to be around Peter .

“What?” she asked, her tone unintelligible. The reaction made him backtrack.

“As friends, I mean. Ned’s going. We could meet him there. Unless you really don't want-”

“Okay,” she mumbled quietly, her expression empty of anything but confusion. She had just a hint of a smile when she turned and walked away.

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[anavoliselenu]

Manwhore chapter 28

“I am.”

“Are you really?” He leans back then, a challenge as he crosses his arms. “Justin Justin . . . he knows about this interview?”

“Yes.”

“But isn’t Interface starting a news department . . .” he trails off meaningfully, because of course the implications are where Justin could hire you?

“Yes, but I want to work my way up.”

Something akin to admiration appears on his face. “Okay then. Well.” He claps his hands and rubs them, as if that’s that. “I’ll put in a good word for you.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much for your time.” Feeling a little sinking sensation in my gut, I sense this is goodbye. I pump his hand effusively and smile anyway.

It’s a smile that leaves me the moment I exit the building. Sighing, I lean against the exterior. I groan and shake my head because I don’t think it went well at all. I sense they believe that I’ll start here and then be lured into the Interface news arm.

Will they all be afraid of Justin reaching out to scoop me up under his wing?

Crossing the street, I go buy a copy of the Chicago Tribune from the nearby newsstand and carry it back into the underground parking lot, tuck it into the front passenger seat of Justin’s Bug, and when I slide into the front seat, I set my forehead on the wheel and sigh.

Okay, Selena, it’s just one interview. One. And not the only one.

I absently run my hand over the dashboard, enjoying the smooth luxury of all the sleek black leather and chrome.

The next interview will go better.

It has to.

I turn on the engine, the loud, rumbling roar scaring another little laugh out of me as the seat starts vibrating. God, if Sin’s car doesn’t look good, smell good, and feel great. And isn’t it great the man upstairs didn’t see me in this, or he’d never even given me a chance to walk in the door.

I don’t have the same luck in keeping the Bug out of sight at Edge, though. Our underground parking lot is minuscule and limited to purchased spots, and since I don’t find any parking, I have to call Valentine. “Val, I brought a car.”

“You don’t have a car.”

“Well, I brought one. Please, please let me borrow your space? I can’t leave this car out there at the mercy of the elements, it’s . . . you’ll understand, I promise.”

“You, woman, are in debt to me,” he declares, and hangs up.

He comes out, grumbling as he gets into his car and pulls it out of the garage, and I park with care—triple-checking all my mirrors. Then do the same when I open the car doors and slide outside.

Valentine comes running back into the parking garage. He gapes. “WHA—!” He cuts himself off with a breath.

“I didn’t mean to bring this,” I promise, lifting my hands when he levels accusing eyes at me. “Otis is sick, I planned to take a cab to my interview, he said, ‘Here.’ And when I left he said, ‘Drive it like you stole it—but don’t get caught.’ I’m nervous driving it. If someone scratches it I’ll die.”

“What—I cannot—” He’s shaking his head and having a combustion. “Dude, it’s a fucking BUGATTI! It’s worth like two-point-three million dollars!”

“Hush, it’s hard enough to drive it carefully without knowing that. It’s responsive and energetic. You touch the pedal and the bastard just goes.”

“ ’Cause it’s a V-sixteen engine and like twelve hundred horsepower. You . . . Bugattis shouldn’t even be driven by women, dude, this is rude!”

“Bug off, you’re gay, Val, you’re like half woman.”

“Holy shit, let’s see it inside!”

My excitement from holding Justin Justin’s key in my hand comes back when I let Valentine open the car and peer inside. “Dude, holy shit! This sends a message—he’s so pussy-whipped, man. Did people see you take this out?”

My lips curl. “A tiger doesn’t lose sleep over the opinion of sheep. He doesn’t care what people think.”

Valentine drools and moans and rubs it for a while. Then, “Where did you interview?”

“Bluekin.” My face crumples a little as I lock Justin’s baby and we head to the elevators. “I can’t stay here, Valentine. Justin’s father is taking over, and my loyalty is elsewhere now.”

“I know, Rache, I can’t sleep, I tell you. I don’t even know what I’m going to do either, but I should probably start looking too. Everyone says Noel Justin’s a fucking asshole. The only one who can take him on is his son and they say Justin is done with him—rightly so. A man’s got to move forward, not stay with those who want to bring him to the pits.”

Completely unlike Valentine, he suddenly looks crestfallen. He sighs. “When new owners take over it’s like everyone will be canned, they like to start fresh, bring in their new blood, take care of any little mafias inside, purge it all. If you hear of anything where you’re going . . .”

“I will,” I promise as we hit our floor. “Good luck, Valentine.”

In the newsroom—well, let’s just say it’s not called newsroom for nothing. It seems the little white Bug in the parking garage caused quite a stir.

Helen summons me to her office a few hours after I start jotting down my new piece, which I think will be called “What does your car say about him and/or you?”

“I’m kind of jealous of your position right now,” Helen tells me when I walk in.

“What?”

“You look radiant. Look at you! Everyone is talking about you and your Justin. His car downstairs. I’m becoming a bit of a Justin fan.”

“Because we’re being bought by the dad?”

She zips her mouth. She grins. “Tell me all the rumors are true. The three S’s.”

“What?”

“Size, stamina, and seduction.”

“Who said that?” I roll my eyes. “Stop talking about him.”

“Sex symbols are objectified.”

“Off-limits to discuss here from now on, Helen. That piece should be enough. Permission to go work now?”

She waves me off with a chuckle, then calls, “Selena . . .”

“Yes?”

“Is it true? You’re looking?”

I realize she was joking with me, acting my friend and teasing, because she wants to know.

I look at her, suddenly feeling a like a complete deserter because I’m leaving Edge. Like those rats who instantly jump and leave the sinking ship, rather than staying there and manning it. But I’m so determined to work things out with Justin and staying here under his father’s thumb wouldn’t help my cause in the least.

“I won’t work for Justin’s father,” I say.

“Does your boyfriend know?”

“He’s not my boyfriend. We’re just . . .” I inhale. “Edge won’t be hurting my relationship this time around. I love it here but . . . my relationship with him now comes first. I really want to make it work, Helen. In my gut it just feels so right, if I let him go without a fight I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”

Her eyes soften, then she shakes her head as if angry at herself. “Enough about this speculating! Get to work.” She snaps her fingers. “But Selena . . . I don’t think the owners are going to let you go that easy. Noel Justin wants you at Edge.”

“Well, then that’s even more of a reason to leave. He can go BLEEP himself for all I care.”

I go back to my desk and then text, People are dying at the office over my ride

I love it, he writes back. But paying for their funerals is going to consume so much of my time that I’d rather spend it doing something else.

So when can I take your Bug back? You could play a little with me too if you’d like

OMG! I’m such a slut. I did not text him that.

But I did.

I did and he answers, I’m feeling rather playful. Sadly, 9:00 is the best?

SOCIAL MEDIA WHIRL

Before I leave Edge for the day, Valentine updates me on the latest social media whirl after our club sighting.

Latest blog entry from chicagogal243—

Justin Justin, our favorite bad boy, in a relationship? So, readers, do you believe that our sexiest bachelor could ever be monogamous? I sure don’t . . .

Twitter:

Spotted this weekend @JustinJustin back on with the lying reporter!

She’s SO wrong for you @JustinJustin SO WRONG!!!! YOU’RE A PRINCE AND SHE’S A FROG!

On his Interface page:

Justin, my darling! Jeremiah and I sent you an invite to our 1st anniversary—you can bring your friend along.

On Facebook:

Just PM’ed you, S. We’re planning the yearly group trip to Monte Carlo. RSVP soon?

His Instagram:

Your new girl is luscious and lovely! Call me if you want me to meet her and kiss her, give you a little show. CALL ME!

“You’ve hired a team of bodyguards, I hope?” Valentine asks me when he closes the internet search.

“No, but I have a Justin protecting me,” I say, tongue in cheek.

“So it’s a no to that threesome that woman’s offering?” he baits.

“Really, that lady has no clue how full Justin’s hands are going to be with me.”

Valentine laughs, and I shake my head and head to the elevators, smiling to myself. Sin, oh Sin, should I learn to wrestle so I can properly deal with these chicks?

Can’t we just tell them all I’m the one who has dibs on you?

THAT NIGHT

It’s 9 p.m. And I’ve already called Mom, and told Gina I won’t be sleeping in, and am heading to his place. I find him striding out of his bedroom, recently showered and in a pair of jeans and slipping into a soft navy blue T-shirt.

God, I tremble at the sight of this man.

“How was it?” he asks.

“What? The car? The interview? My day?” I set his keys down on the coffee table along with the Tribune I brought.

“Let’s start with the interview. I already know the car’s good stuff.” He smiles, then cocks his head when he drops down beside me and I curl up against his side.

He kisses my jaw and gives a little cup to the swells of my breasts rising enticingly to press into my top. I kiss the tendon in his throat that I bit the night before¸ noticing a slight pink mark at the bottom of his neck, hidden under his shirt.

“Do you realize someone recently left you a hickey?”

I moan when he ducks his head, seizes a piece of skin, suckles and does the same.

“Now she’s wearing one to match,” he says wickedly.

I moan again as he sucks one more time. It feels so good I don’t want to talk, to eat, to do anything but fuck with him.

He nuzzles my ear. “You make the best sounds when I’ve got my hands all over you.”

“Sin, you’re making me self-conscious now . . .” I groan, and he smiles against me.

I drag my hands up his chest to his face. “I thought about you all day.”

His eyes darken. He brings me close, until I’m sitting over his thigh. “This is getting in my way,” he says in mischief, fingering the top button of my blouse but not removing it yet. I think he knows—we both know—if he takes it off, our talk is over. “So how was it?”

“Good.”

“Good?” he repeats, clearly not convinced.

“Not spectacular or anything. I don’t want to get my hopes up.”

When he keeps giving me a that’s-just-bullshit look, I sigh.

“Not really good,” I finally admit. “But I love Bluekin. I love how they do things, how they don’t box themselves into a certain market, they’re read by young people, by old people, women, men . . . they’re open.”

“Who did you see there? Harkin?”

“Yes.” I narrow my eyes. “He said you’re friends with his boss.”

He nods and eases away, pours us drinks and comes back to pass me a glass.

“Where do you think I should go?” I ask him, taking a soft sip.

“You know where.” He smirks as he lowers back down on the couch next to me, his eyes twinkling but serious.

“Come on, I value your opinion.”

“Bluekin’s good,” he says, furrowing his brow in thought. “Buzz, Lokus, the Sun-Times, the Tribune, the Reader. I can get you into any of those. Maybe even RedEye too.”

“No. No string pulling. I need to do this on my own. What would you do if you were given something just that easily, hmm?” I dare.

“I’d take it and use it to go higher.” He lifts his eyebrows, challenging me. “You pull yourself up by your bootstraps or by whoever’s are closest, Selena.”

“You say that because you have the biggest bootstraps and don’t need anyone to help you up.” I add, “I’m not even considering the mag where Victoria is.”

“Was.” He shrugs. “I can get you in there too.”

“Was? What’s she doing now?”

“Not messing with you.”

I gape at him, perplexed and amazed. “How do you even know all these people?”

“Fund-raisers. Benefits. Business. They like my wallet.” He winks at me and smirks a little. “Some even like me.” He lifts his wine to drink. “Still, don’t take me off your list,” he murmurs.

“Why?” I groan, then jokingly frown. “You want to keep tabs on me every hour of the day?”

Thoughtfully but intensely, he runs the back of a finger down my jaw. “M4 is the only place I know without a doubt you’ll work on what you want.”

Before I even know what I’m doing, I cup his hard jaw.

“I can’t believe I’m leaving Edge.” I think of my friends for a moment, especially Valentine and Sandy. “Maybe this purchase will be good for them?”

He laughs softly, then stands to refill his glass. As though he needs some space on his own, he remains staring out the window, cradling it in his palm, the stem between two fingers.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask softly.

“Not really.”

A gazillion city lights flicker outside, and there’s this space that is as dark and serene as the sky, which is the lake. Will he ever take me there again? To our little spot where nothing else matters—nothing?

He turns to look at me after a moment, his eyebrows slanting low over his eyes. “What’s so awful about working for me, Selena?”

“Nothing. I just don’t want to.” I scowl.

He scowls back.

This is what I’ve wanted. To write what I want. He’s giving me that. He’s giving me all that. And I’m afraid to take it. That taking it would mean, eventually, that I’d lose what I most want: the possibility of having a long-term relationship with him.

I can’t. I don’t even want to be tempted.

“Justin, I promise you, I won’t be there when your father takes over. I won’t be there.”

He clenches his jaw. His silence is heavy, thoughtful.

My frown deepens. “I’m promising I won’t be there. Justin, I won’t be there.” I look at him. “Don’t you believe my promise? Is it because you don’t think promises are worth a damn or because you don’t believe in me?”

He narrows his eyes. “Can you blame me for not jumping to believe in your promises?”

That strikes me, and it hurts.

“Are we in a relationship beyond working each other out of our systems, or am I just along for some kind of four? Four weeks? Four months?”

I remember what has been said about him and maybe it’s haunting me. Maybe Justin’s reputation is still haunting me, and my own feelings of not being up to such a powerhouse like him.

“We’re taking it one step at a time,” he says measuredly.

I chew on my lip.

When I don’t look ecstatic about it, he narrows his eyes. “Is that not enough for you, Selena?”

No. Because I love you, I think brokenly.

“You’ve taught me to be greedy. I don’t know anymore,” I say. “Do you expect me to go work for you knowing that in five months you could be parading around with dozens of women, none of them me?” I challenge, slowly coming to my feet. “I have pride too. I can’t compartmentalize with you, I just can’t. I know you want to protect me. But I needed to believe that I can find something on my own. I want your respect, like I respect you. I need . . .”

I pause when a little bit of my emotions start getting too riled up.

“I guess I just need you to believe I can find something on my own too.”

Eerily silent, Justin seems to be trying to figure out how to tread into this, and I realize this conversation is going to go nowhere fast.

Fuck, I’m tired. He’s temperamental about this job issue.

We’re fighting already? On day two?

“You know what? This is a topic we’re not seeing eye to eye on, and I’m tired. I’m just going home.”

“Fuck,” I hear him say, smashing a palm into the wall, but I just ride down the elevator and hail a cab home, proud and misty-eyed and needing time to think about what I’ll do to make a living while still fighting to try to have a relationship with Sin.

NIGHT VISIT

I’ve been morosely sitting in my bed pondering my life situation for the better part of an hour when Gina knocks on my door. “Rache? Someone’s here to see you.”

She peers inside to see if I’m decent, and then she steps back and widens the door.

Justin stands on the threshold, his hands at his side, his jaw set thoughtfully . . . and my heart turns over in my chest.

“Hey!”

I rise to my feet in shock, battling to conceal the excitement spreading over me at the sight of him in my apartment.

He shuts the door slowly behind him as he looks at me, in his shirt. I feel weak in the knees. “Nice shirt,” he says.

“It’s yours.”

I swear my room feels smaller and so much more feminine whenever he’s in here.

He starts forward, his gaze shining appraisingly on me. “I like you in it.”

I nervously bite the inside of my cheek. “I didn’t think you’d want me to wear it while you were hating me.”

“I wasn’t hating you.” He keeps walking forward and for some reason I find myself backing away. Maybe because I feel vulnerable that he sees me so at home in his shirt. Maybe because I just poured my heart out to him in an email he might never read.

“I don’t respect a lot of people, Selena, it’s hard for me.” His gaze searches mine. “I respect you.” He reaches out to stop me from walking and cups my face in one hand to force me in place. “I get you, Selena. I may not say it, words are your turf, not mine, but I get you. You’re the only woman I’ve ever gone this far with. Ever even wanted to. Promise me now that if you don’t find anything by the time my father takes over, you’ll come with me—and I’ll believe you.”

His eyes are so green right now, heavy like anchors holding me down. We stare at each other as if we’re both trying to understand what the other needs. Him, calmly, and me with so much longing inside me, I feel soft like a noodle.

I know that he’s never done this before, being with someone like he is with me, and I haven’t either. I close my eyes when his thumb starts to caress the skin on my neck where he holds me. “I do. I promise.”

He smiles then—a slow, male, grateful smile—then he pulls me close to his chest. “Was that hard now?” he chides.

“No. But you are.” I smile against his neck.

He laughs softly as he reaches between us and chucks my chin. “It happens when you’re around.”

“Does it? I hadn’t noticed.” I smile.

His smile flashes back at me. “It’s pretty much permanent.”

Ohgod, he’s making me so wet. I shove him away and back away a little with a mock-frown. “Rumor has it it’s like that all the time when any lady’s around.”

He starts after me. “I’m a hungry man. I won’t apologize for my appetite.”

“And you used to like a buffet?” I hop on my bed and avoid him when he reaches out to grab me.

His eyes twinkle, his teeth white against his tan. “Why not? If I’m hungry.”

“Do you still crave it?” I hop back down and keep backing around my room, while Justin, Justin continues calmly coming after me.

“That hunger of yours is so big maybe nothing will ever satisfy it,” I continue taunting.

“Maybe.” He catches me in a swift move, pulls me close, and he leans to my ear, voice dropping, “I still think you wear my shirt better than I do,” he says huskily.

I moan and press closer. “Justin.” Fuck me right now. On the bed, the floor, and against the wall.

He playfully, and oh-so-wickedly, pops open one button and runs the knuckles of his fist inside to caress the skin between my collarbones.

“I want you,” I whisper, giddy and gooey inside. “See, I’m ambitious too.”

His voice is pure husky. “Good, aim high. Always. I like my girls greedy.”

“Plural! You’re such a piece of work.” I shove at his hard chest playfully and back away again with a mock frown.

“And you like me anyway.” He keeps coming forward, and I swear the smile he’s wearing right now is about as hormone-wrecking as his hard-on is.

“I’m aiming . . . high . . . it’s just that I’m trying to put a name to us and it frustrates me not to have one.”

What am I, exactly, to you? I want to ask, but Justin pops open another button, and whispers, “Only you would want a word. But there’s no word for this.”

He grabs a little bit of loose hair from my nape as he tilts my head up so he can kiss me. And . . . kiss me.

Our lips collide, his firming over mine, making me soften as his tongue dips into my mouth and a spiral of heat swirls in my stomach. I start pulling him by the shoulders as we kiss, backing us eagerly to the bed.

The backs of my knees hit the mattress and I end up sitting there, then lying there, and he leans over me, his mouth still slowly, powerfully moving over mine. The heat of his slow and thorough kiss burns me to ash.

I trap back a moan and look up at him dazedly as he sits down next to me and holds me to his chest with one arm. I start kissing his neck and jaw and sit here in a pile of lust, feeling his hand run down my side to stroke up the side of my bare leg.

“So we’re clear then,” he murmurs against my mouth, delivering one of his most demanding looks.

I lick my lips and nod.

He shoves his tongue into my mouth again. Leaning over me, he’s all raw manpower. Dominant and possessive, unapologetic, he circles my tongue with his. Pressing, circling, stroking, stoking my fire, the space between our upper bodies nonexistent. He caresses my side with his hand, moving it up to the little triangle of skin he revealed under my throat.

I grab his jaw to speed up the kiss. But he won’t have it.

“Easy. Let me savor you,” he quietly coaxes as he slows down, prolonging it for us as he sips from me like a wineglass.

The fabric of his shirt I’ve been wearing is so flimsy compared to the hard substance of Justin’s chest against mine.

I hear the air-conditioning, the noises of the city. Feel my soft bed beneath me as his mouth roams over my neck. The weight of his upper body on mine makes me sigh. The smooth skin of our chests rubbing. The wet warmth of his mouth on my skin. My fingertips digging into the back of his head. The hard wall of his chest to my breasts. Smell the scent of his neck. Hear our breathing. I’m breathless and still, he caresses me with his fingers between my collarbones.

We lie there quietly, looking at each other before he sweeps in for another kiss.

He turns his head then and gives me another pile of long lazy kisses. “Are you going to keep your promise to me, Selena?” Kiss.

“Hmm . . .” Lazy kissing from me to him. “Yes, Sin.”

“Good girl . . .” More lazy kissing, then he rolls around and gets up from the bed.

“Where are you going?” I sit up in confusion, pushing my hair out of my face.

“I have to go. I have something important pending at my place.” He heads to the door.

“You mean you’re not spending the night?”

He stops to turn, then lifts one dark eyebrow. Then the other.

And then, I see the twinkle appear in his eyes.

He comes back to me.

Leaning down, he buttons up the button he unbuttoned, his handsome face sober now.

He cups my breast over his shirt as he opens up his mouth and dips his head for one last taste of me. He sucks my bottom lip gently, then does the same with the top lip, then he dives into my mouth, which gets a delicious little tongue fuck before he sets one soft kiss at the corner of my mouth. He touches my body like it’s his and I’m starting to worry. God, I’m addicted.

But then he whispers, “Not here, little one.”

“Why?”

“Your friend’s here. And I want you to make noise.” He looks at me meaningfully.

“I’ll see you soon?” he husks out, easing back and once again heading for the door.

He’s leaving.

I watch him grab my doorknob.

“I planned to hit the Cubs game next weekend. I have a mind to take you there.”

“Cubs game?” I nearly leap off the bed. “Yes! ”

His eyes glimmer. Those naughty lips of his tug upward.

I blush when I wonder if it’s because he knows how I feel about him. “I’m excited because I’ve never been to a live game.”

His eyes glint. “Of course.”

I know he knows I’m excited to go with him.

I want to say I love you but before I get the courage, he’s gone. And I lie in bed, wondering about us.

The next morning, I tell Gina a little bit about the fight and how he said some bone-melting things to me and I ask her if she thinks Justin loves me.

She gives me a you’re-shitting-me look.

I reply with a no-I’m-not-shitting-you look.

“You’re kidding?”

“I never kid about Justin, Gina.”

She shoves her spoon back into her plate. “I wouldn’t know, Rache. What I do know is that he makes you vulnerable and you’re putting up walls.”

“No I’m not.”

“You don’t want to expect anything. You’re still scared.”

“Okay, maybe I am scared.”

“Scared of what?”

My shoulder hikes up. “Everything,” I laugh pitifully. “I’m always scared.”

“About it not being reciprocated?”

I nod.

“Of his fame and his groupies? How ready they are for him to tire of you to welcome him with open legs and arms?”

“Gina!” I scowl. “He’s not like that.”

But in a way, I am scared of his groupies. I’m scared of being in love. With . . . him.

“They’re all like that, Tahoe and Callan too.” She pauses. “Dude. I’d be scared too. But . . . Look at his actions, Selena. Those should be worth more than sweet-talking words. Paul used to tell me . . . I don’t even want to remember. But he didn’t mean it, his actions said otherwise. God, I could’ve killed him for being such a cheating liar if I hadn’t been so . . . devastated.”

She eyes me somberly.

“What Justin has done for you, Selena. Offering the job. Canning Victoria’s article but not yours. That safety thing he did with End the Violence. Coming here last night to talk it out . . . I know you’re a words girl, but he’s more of a doer than a teller. He’s doing things to be close to you. Maybe you should start ’fessing up and telling.”

I open my hands in a helpless gesture. “I told him I loved him, on the phone. Once.”

A stab pricks my chest when I again wonder how he took it?

“Before the shit happened. Maybe he wants you to take the leap again. In that article, you wrote that you’d leap if you thought he’d catch you. Don’t you think he will?”

A warm glow fills me as I imagine leaping knowing that he would catch me, and my lips curve a little. “Since when are you so perceptive?” I ball a paper napkin and toss it over the table at her.

She tosses it back. “Since, hell, I don’t know.” She shrugs and shoots me a wistful glance. “Maybe I just want my faith in men restored.”

She laughs and shrugs as if this admission is no big deal. But it’s a huge deal.

It’s been so long since Paul, and Gina’s been so determined never to go through that again.

“Our first time falling in love . . .” I trail off as I bring a box of Lucky Charms and a cereal bowl for myself. “It hasn’t been a walk in the park for either of us,” I tell her.

She grabs the pink marshmallows in my bowl before I can add the milk. “More like a roller coaster.” She pops some into her mouth. “But like Tahoe says . . . ’cause he and I are like buddies now. Are you impressed?” Then she chuckles a little. “Anyway . . . walks in the park can get boring.”

CUBS GAME

It’s Cubs game day, and I’m running around in matching black panties and black bra. My stomach is a big jumble of nerves. I feel like I’m watching a horror movie, and it’s at that part where some stupid girl is about to open the closet, which contains some kind of serial killer/psychopath, and I can’t do anything about it. I’m that girl. And I’m about to open the closet door, except it’s Justin waiting on the other side of it, and I don’t know what scares me more.

Sin, on the other side of the door. My addiction. My love.

I smell like vanilla perfume and my hair is freshly ironed, feeling warm against my back, silky straight, hitting me just below my shoulder blades. I’m so excited, I feel like a teenager. I check my phone, and his last text is still glowing on the screen:

I’m on my way.

Four stupid little words and I feel like I can’t breathe. But I want to squeal like a little girl too. I haven’t seen him all week; work getting in the way, save for a few texts. As I contemplate what to wear, I’m thinking about what will happen. How I’ll be in his car with him soon, surrounded by leather in a confined space . . . and then I start thinking about whether he’ll come back to my place or not, and I find myself thinking—no, hoping—that he will.

So I pause to make sure that my bed is made, my room sparkly clean.

I finally put on an emerald-green silky blouse and a pair of white shorts that make my butt look good. I slip on some flats, spray more perfume on my neck, swipe mascara on my lashes, a little blush on my cheeks, and a smack of cherry lip stain on my lips. I’m looking in the mirror, deciding I look okay, when I hear a knock on the door.

I focus on my breathing, hearing my ballet flats tap on the floor. No one else is home. The apartment only has a couple lamps on, and I’m just now realizing that somewhere between my getting-ready routine and obsessing, the sun has gone down.

I open the door, and he’s standing there with his hands in his pockets, wearing dark jeans and a long-sleeve black T-shirt that defines his huge shoulders and is pulled tightly against his biceps. Weirdly, the nerves in my stomach subside. He’s looking at me with his green eyes. His square jaw clamped tight. His eyes are roaming from the tips of my toes to the blush on my cheeks.

He clears his throat, and when he finally speaks, I swear to god I almost start crying from how much I like the sound of it. Incredible, how much I’ve missed this voice. How his chest seems to vibrate with the power of it. How I can basically feel his warmth, emanating from his body as he stands there, and all I want to do is get sucked into his force field.

He steps closer to me, so I’m staring up at him and he’s staring down at me, and he says simply, “You look amazing.”

I can’t say anything back. My nerves won’t allow me to. It’s our second official date—after that one night I spent over.

“Mmm . . .” he says, lowering his head slightly so his lips brush the side of my neck. “Smell good too.”

I swear I’m melting right here, and as if he doesn’t even know, the bastard straightens up again and shoots me one of his trademark smiles. “Ready to go? We’ll be late.”

“Yeah.” I take a good breath. Then I look back at my apartment, turn off the lights and take my purse from the stand next to my front door.

“Talking Body” by Tove Lo is blaring on the speakers. The skybox overlooks the field, with several rows of exterior seats to get in on the action connected to the private suite—which is where we are. The moment we walk in, warm golden light fills my vision. Black leather couches, plasma TVs, and a pool table are the first things I see. Then I see a huge window looking out on the baseball field, the lights shining down. I can practically smell the peanuts and the beer. We’re on top of the whole stadium, in a glass box.