#trying to figure out how to unlock the final trophy was a pain

[xtaibhse]

I did it. I’m done. I finally got my platinum trophy for this game. ( ；∀；)

Time to replay Shiraishi’s route again lol

I’m gonna compile a walkthrough, should anyone want it!

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Lying (Next) To You (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader)

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T+ for violence + language Warnings: Blood-drinking/general vampiric shenanigans Summary: There is no goal other than escape. You want out of this castle, no matter what you have to do, no matter the consequences. At first, the solution seems to lie with one of the very women you want to get away from. But what happens when you find yourself genuinely caring for her? Length: 5,934 words

Merely surviving had never been your intention. From day one in this foul place, this unholy castle, you had strived to escape. No matter what, you refused to allow such dismal grounds to be your grave. But leaving wouldn’t be as simple as walking out an unlocked door. It required manipulation, agility, and the willingness to screw over anyone who got in your way. Even those who you would have once called friends, or the closest thing you had to that among the servants. Was that something you were willing to do? Absolutely, without a shred of doubt in your mind. Someday, somehow, regardless of what it took, you’d get out and never look back. For now, though, all you can do is scheme…

—————————

Three targets, each incredibly difficult to get your hands on, each presenting their own unique challenges. Which would be easiest to charm? You were still debating that answer.

First was Bela: The eldest, most responsible, forced to be the “role model” for her sisters. A bookworm (a trait the two of you shared) who spent a fair amount of her freetime in the library. While not overtly cruel, she was still rather violent, especially in cases where she felt her family had been insulted. However, there were whispers that she had a secret weakness: Anxiety. None had caught her in the open throes of an attack and lived to tell the tale. But she had been overheard, more than once, quiet cries or shaking breaths. Trying to talk to her during one of these occasions could lead to gaining her affection- if you managed to do what no other had been capable of doing, that is.

Second was Daniela: The youngest, most excitable, eager to please and desperate to be pleased. Easily interacted with more maidens than either of her sisters, though not always in a good way. Getting her attention could mean getting pulled into her room in the middle of the night, for some “fun”, or it could mean getting drained of all of your blood. Sometimes she did one after the other. Like Bela, she was a bookworm, though she preferred romance novels as opposed to her older sister’s educational texts. As for her weakness? To you, Daniela seemed to be the definition of “undiagnosed ADHD”. Less exploitable for sympathy than her sister, but possibly useful in helping you trick her. At the end of the day, the largest concern with her was her inconsistent behavior, her tendency to flip moods at the drop of a hat- and a drop of the hat with her could feel a helluva lot like a drop of an axe (onto your neck).

Then came the third… the one you didn’t think was worth the risk, whatsoever: Cassandra. Middle child and acting just like it, she was hungry for her mother’s approval, attention, and respect most of all. Bloodthirsty as could be, with a mean streak eight kilometers wide, the truest monster you had ever met. Even her fondness for the arts manifested in malevolent ways. Supposedly, she painted in blood, and made sculptures from the bones of her victims, displayed proudly in her room as trophies. What could you possibly do to earn her affection? What could you ever be to her, other than a plaything or mid-afternoon snack?... Nothing, you assumed, and so you figured you might as well remove her from your list. Somehow you’d have to make do with one of her sisters. As for which one?... You decided to let fate decide, and go for whomever you found yourself with an opportunity to court.

—————————

Free time was a rare commodity in Castle Dimitrescu. While every servant did technically get one day off every week, it wasn’t uncommon to end up helping with something unexpected, even if one tried to hide away in the private quarters. For you, it was an opportune time to try and get closer to your targets. So far three weeks had passed since your “decision” to focus on Bela and Daniela, without a single interaction with either of them. Still, hope held fast in your chest, as you made haste towards the library. On this free day you intended to read as much as possible. ‘Twas a two-pronged goal: First, you would increase your chances of running into one of your preferred employers. Secondly, you could possibly learn something through what content you consumed, perhaps to be utilized in later conversations.

Or such was the hope. In truth, you did not make it to the library, nor even anywhere close. A quarter of the way there you were interrupted by an ever-dreaded noise; buzzing echoed throughout the hallway, first far off, but getting closer with every second. There was a particular ferocity to the vibrations that you knew meant danger was approaching. According to the other maidens, this was a distinction that everyone learned over time, assuming that they survived long enough. The smart thing would have been to duck away into an adjacent room in the hopes that whatever sister it was would ignore you. But your endgame weighed heavy on your mind, then forced your feet to the floor. For better or worse, you would be in the woman’s path, ready for whatever she may ask of you.

“You-” a voice snarled, as a hooded figure phased out of the swarm and into your vision. Her head was held high, eyes narrowed as they stared down at you, a snarl twisting her lips. Of course it was her. Cassandra Dimitrescu. The one daughter you didn’t want to encounter. Inside, part of you writhes in self deprecation, feeling as if you should have known better. How often did the other two buzz about so angrily?... Well, certainly a fair bit, but nowhere near as much as Cassandra. Fuck, you think, I’m probably doomed. “I’m hungry. Come here real quick,” Cassandra demands, beckoning you towards her with a single finger. In another life you would have blushed bright red at the sight. A life where she wasn’t a vampiric monster, that is.

Nonetheless, you are quick to obey, masking your anxiety as best as you can. Doing so gets much harder once your gaze meets Cassandra’s, and you see her lick her lips before smirking at you. As soon as you’re within her reach, she’s surging forward, grabbing you by your shoulders, then pivoting, pressing you hard against the wall. You can’t help but gasp at the sudden movements, which only widens her grin. Before you know it she’s running her tongue along your neck. Once more you gasp, this time softer, hating the way your body urges you to lean into her touch. Why couldn’t she simply get straight to the worst of it? Instead she takes her sweet time, slipping a finger beneath the collar of your shirt, slowly, carefully tugging it to the side. When she finally bites, it is terribly sudden. The pleasure comes before the pain, stronger than you would have expected, eliciting a sharp inhale from you that sounds more satisfied than you had intended. Even as a rush of pain follows, you can’t help the red that tints your cheeks.

“Enjoying this, hmm?” Cassandra asks, after licking away at your blood for a few moments, pulling back but not releasing you. Something in her eyes makes you need to respond.

“Y-yes, more than I’d like to admit,” you mumble, barely able to make eye contact. But she seems pleased by this, gently cupping your chin while she looks you over.

“Well then, if you survive… I might just have to drink from you again,” she whispers, before diving right back in towards your neck. This time her touch is far, far softer than before. It feels more like she’s kissing you rather than drinking from you. A strange, irritatingly familiar feeling springs in the pit of your stomach, and you can’t help but make more of those noises she seemed to enjoy so much. Hell, your eyes drift closed as you take in the surprisingly welcome sensation. When they reopen, however, you give a yelp of surprise, spotting a very awkwardly waiting servant. They were blushing, clearly not having expected to come upon this particular sight. Cassandra perks up at your shock, turning to follow your gaze, then giving an uncharacteristically resigned groan. “Damn it, Ava, is it urgent?” She asks, to which the servant gives a silent shrug. “I’ll be done in a minute. Now, where were we?”

Once more she resumes feeding, casting aside all traces of sweetness, sucking on your wound with reckless abandon. Behind her, Ava gives you a thumbs up before turning away. As embarrassing as the moment felt, you were grateful to xer, glad that xe seemed to recognize your desire for privacy. More than that… if xe hadn’t come along, would Cassandra have remembered to stop before your bloodloss became fatal? There was no guarantee either way. Yet xer intervention felt like a godsend, and you made a mental note to thank xer later. Soon enough Cassandra removes herself from you, pausing only to cup your chin for a moment, meeting your gaze with a smirk. Then she was turning away without another word, following Ava to some unknown destination.

A deep breath, then another, more frantic, the familiar sense of panic growing on the edges of your mind. Now that the feeding was over, you were left trembling with all the fear you had been so adamant about not showing before. How close to death had you come? How close were you now? Only feeling slightly more faint than you had earlier, it felt safe enough to assume you would be fine, if only physically. Inside your mind you were struggling with racing thought after racing thought. How the hell am I supposed to do this with either Bela or Daniela? You think, trying to breathe past the lump in your throat. And why did I have to enjoy that so much? They’re nothing more than means to an end, monsters undeserving of my kindness, of my joy. Your only comfort was the knowledge that this may very well have been the opportunity you had been waiting for; but only if you could shift your aim.

—————————

The difference was subtle, almost microscopic, to the point where it took you a full week to notice. But once you had? Everything felt different. You couldn’t spend more than three seconds in the same room as Cassandra without her eyes following you, watching your every move, sending a rush of both fear and excitement down your spine. Meeting her gaze only made her give the tiniest fraction of a smile. As soon as something (or someone) else caught her attention, however, you were forgotten in the blink of an eye. Yet it was nerve wracking nonetheless. This was roughly what you had hoped for, but you had underestimated the mental toll it would take on you. There was no way to tell whether Cassandra wanted violence, something softer, or her usual brand- a cruel mixture of both. Every second spent in her presence was a roll of the dice, a flip of a coin, either one weighted to put the odds against you.

But you persisted. Escape was not a dream, nor a fantasy, nor some far off cryptid. It was inevitable. Again and again you would swallow your fear until you reached your long-sought destination. No matter the cost, you think, no matter the consequences. Over time, that cost, those consequences, would grow. For now, it was a slice of your sanity. Next? More blood, it seemed.

“Casserole wants you to stop by her art studio,” the note said, cursive hand-writing ever-so-fancy and ever-so-difficult to read. Clearly from Ava, the mildly mysterious (but incredibly helpful) castle servant known for never speaking a word. From what you had gathered, xe was a confidant of sorts for the Dimitrescu family, trusted far more than the average worker. Alas, xe was loyal to the center of xer being, and was rumored to be impeccable at preventing escape attempts before they had even started. If you wanted out of this damn place, you knew you’d have to be careful around xer. Hopefully xe won’t interrupt this time, you think, before tucking the note away in your pocket.

Cassandra’s infamous studio wasn’t terribly far from your quarters, thankfully, though you weren’t even sure if you were supposed to arrive at a specific time. What if she wasn’t expecting you until later? Worse, what if she had been expecting you an hour ago? It’s a dangerous thought, one that could easily spiral into something far more drastic, and you try to reassure yourself, reminding yourself that Ava would have mentioned a time if it was important. In the end, you still found your heart racing as you stood outside the room in question. Pausing to take a deep breath, you center yourself, before raising a hand to knock. To your surprise, you get an answer before your hand even gets close to the door.

“Come in already,” Cassandra chimes from inside. Unsure of what terrible fate you were about to meet, you entered the room, somewhat reluctantly. Despite the myriad of unsavory rumors regarding the studio, there were no immediate signs of brutality. At the worst, the space was fairly messy, though not due to any, ahem, “misplaced” body parts. No, just an overflowing garbage bin, a few unfinished projects placed haphazardly wherever they’d fit, shards of glass in one corner, and tile floor splattered with a Pollock-esque layer of paint. In one word? Chaotic. Such was the type of environment that seemed to suit Cassandra best, the sort in which you imagined she would thrive. But you didn’t have time to examine anything as closely as you would have liked to. “Are you going to keep me waiting?”

“No, Lady Cassandra,” you reply, hurriedly, shaking your head to clear your thoughts. Then you’re quickly crossing the room, to what looks like a cross between a storage cabinet and a paint mixing station. In Cassandra’s hands, however, you find something less welcoming than a paintbrush: A needle and an empty blood bag. Well, you think, I guess I know why I’m here. At least there’s only one bag, right? “What do you require of me, my Lady?” While the answer was fairly obvious, you didn’t know the specific steps necessary, and it never hurt to be as polite as possible with the Dimitrescu family.

“Just sit down, roll your sleeves up, look pretty, and stay still. Try not to make any noises this time- as cute as they were last time, I have a headache,” Cassandra explains, gesturing towards the room’s only chair. Ignoring the way your cheeks heated up, you did as she asked, trying to get relatively comfortable. It was somewhat difficult to relax, considering who you were with. “Calm down, pet, I’m only going to hurt you a little. That’s more than I can say for most people who end up here.” Why did she have to use a nickname for you? Weren’t you already flushed enough without her teasing you further? Though your flustering does turn to confusion after a moment, as you wonder how she knew how afraid you were. You were under the impression that you were hiding it fairly well. Noticing your reaction, Cassandra rolls her eyes, before leaning in to whisper in your ear. “I can hear your heartbeat. Normally I’d find this… exciting. But my head hurts and I wanted to finish this damn painting yesterday. So take a deep breath, little pet, and let me take what I need from you.”

Of course she had to say it like that, and put herself so close to you. You’re pretty sure that your heart skips a few beats in response, though Cassandra doesn’t react beyond a hint of a smile, merely returning to her prep work. First step was cleaning your skin. Admittedly you hadn’t been sure if that step was necessary, seeing as the blood was (seemingly) for art as opposed to testing, but it didn’t exactly surprise you. Besides, there was a chance she’d drink the leftovers, right? Next she double-checked that the needle was properly connected to the blood bag, and that the latter was resting securely on a small stand. With that out of the way, it was time for her favorite part.

“Since your heartbeat has slowed down a little… I’ll let you whimper if you want to- but only once. Consider it a reward for good behavior,” Cassandra purrs with a familiar grin. One hand gently cups your chin, while her eyes look right in yours, just long enough to turn your cheeks bright red. The moment ends as quickly as it started. Before you know it she’s turned stoic again, feeling along your arm for a vein. This isn’t the first time you’ve had your blood drawn, but Cassandra takes no time at all to find the perfect spot, likely from a mix of practice and, well, her vampiric nature. It’s not long before she’s gently gripping your arm with one hand, briefly making eye contact before pushing the needle into your skin. Does it hurt? Hardly. Do you take a shaky inhale, hoping to please your employer, the closest to a whimper you were willing to give her? Oh, absolutely. And does she react? Oh, absolutely. Her eyes light up for a second as she bites her lower lip. There’s something else in her expression that you can’t quite read, however.

“Enjoying this, hmm?” You ask, smiling, voice soft in the hopes of not aggravating her headache. It’s a risk, and one that pays off more than you’d ever expect. Cassandra giggles a tad, eying you with the least mischievous smile you’ve ever seen from her. If not for the needle still in your arm, you might have found the moment charming, or even… romantic. But you pushed the thought away as soon as possible, reminding yourself of your one true goal: Escaping. This was a means to an end. Nothing more, nothing less. That’s what you had to keep telling yourself. Even as Cassandra ever-so-gently removed the needle from your arm, even as she carefully placed a bandage over the entry-point, even as she gave you a nod of approval.

“This should last until the painting is done, at the very least. I might need you to make another ‘donation’ next week, though. Except, hmm… your blood is quite nice,” Cassandra says. Her tone is smooth, almost sultry, but her gaze is focused on her work as she starts mixing the blood with… something? You weren’t familiar with this particular artistic process, nor did you want to be. “Maybe I’ll set up a nice schedule for you. Once a month you can be my darling little muse, and once a month you can be a refreshing snack. I’ll even make sure that my sisters don’t do anything that might spoil our fun. Assuming you continue to prove entertaining, that is.” You didn’t know whether to feel relieved or worried. In the end you settled for the former, chest thrumming with excitement as you felt yourself getting one step closer to your goal.

—————————

Three months pass by in an easy blur. Just as Cassandra had suggested, you find yourself in her company more often than before. Only twice a month does she take blood from you, for your own safety (which she pretends not to care about), but more and more you find her lounging around where you’re working, obviously by “pure coincidence”. Sometimes she even spoke to you! Teasing here and there, or asking you to do things that she normally did for herself, or scaring you just to hear you make one of your “lovely noises”. Honestly, you weren’t sure whether you were more surprised by how attached she had gotten to you, or by how quickly it had happened. Of course, you didn’t even know if she enjoyed your personality… or just your blood. Either way, you found yourself enjoying her presence more than you’d ever openly admit.

Eventually, when the benefits of your budding “friendship” became more clear, you started to enjoy it even more.

It was early in the morning, right when the castle residents tended to go to sleep, and when the night shift officially ended. Minutes prior you had been conversing quietly with Cassandra, dusting some shelves as you did. Now, with your duties done only slightly later than usual, you were making your way back to your quarters. Along the way you were caught off guard by the sound of distant crying. ‘Twas a sound you’d heard many times before, from many different maidens, but this time felt… different. An odd feeling of sympathy sparked in your chest, and you made the brash decision to approach the source of the noise. When you rounded that last corner, when you made eye contact with the trembling figure, you knew that your kindness could very well be the death of you. To think that you had once hoped for this encounter.

“Who’s there?” Bela Dimitrescu snarls through chattering teeth. She’s moving forward, phasing in and out of swarm mode, reaching a hand out to clutch at your throat. Well, you think, at least she’s stopped crying? More so out of being distracted, instead of feeling any comfort from your company. It’s not a terribly reassuring thought, but it’s soon replaced with a mental string of ???? as Bela pauses, grip loosening as she holds you up in the light. “You’re Cassandra’s new favorite. Damnit!” With that she drops you rather unceremoniously. Then she’s turning her back to you, sniffling before wiping the tears from her eyes. “Don’t tell anyone about this, or I won’t hesitate to string you up, no matter what my sister says. Now get lost.”

Except you can’t force yourself to move. There’s a small piece of you that remembers your original plan, another small part feels a twinge of sympathy, and a majority of your brain sees this as an opportunity. What was a little more risk?

“Would you like me to bring you some tea, Lady Bela?” You ask, attempting to keep your tone neutral, lest she think you were judging her. In response, she turns to look at you slowly, eyes narrowed, thinly veiled rage only outweighed by the remnants of her anxiety. Then she’s stalking forward with cautious, deliberate movements. For a moment she searches your eyes for any hints at your motive. Hoping to ease her worries, you elaborated on your offer, and the reasoning behind it. “I’ve read that holding something warm in your hands, like a mug of tea or coffee, relaxes the brain. I believe it had something to do with mimicking human touch?... Forgive me if I’m overstepping your boundaries, my Lady. I… I felt compelled to ask, to help in whatever way I can.”

“Oh?” Bela hums, the majority of the anger draining from her face. There’s a hint of genuine surprise behind her bright eyes. “Very well, if you say it might… help.” Before you can turn to leave, you hear her clear her throat, and say one last thing. “A little softer than I would have expected from a pet of Cassandra’s.” She certainly had a point. But you don’t bother responding, instead focusing on your self-given task. In the back of your mind, you wonder if you were really Cassandra’s “pet”, or if there was more to your dynamic. Why did you feel so weird about the idea of being a mere “distraction” to her?... Something to think about while you made that tea, you supposed.

—————————

When you assisted with serving lunch the next day, Bela refused to make eye contact, even as you set a plate in front of her, or when you refilled her wine glass. There was a stiffness in the room that you weren’t familiar with. For the most part, Cassandra is more welcoming, giving you a small nod when you meet her gaze. By the time the family is done eating and moves to leave, the sisters are grouping together to speak in hushed voices. While you clean up after them, you cannot help but wonder if they’re discussing the previous night, or if Bela was as adamant about keeping quiet as she had seemed. Regardless, you felt rather good about how the conversation had gone. Hopefully she’s feeling better, you think, surprising yourself. Not that it matters… unless she tells Cassandra, I suppose.

You don’t see her for the rest of the day. It’s a double-edged sword, in a way. On one hand, you find yourself missing her, unused to not interacting with her at all. On the other hand? All the sudden you’re realizing just how involved she’s become with you. Certainly that meant something? Progress towards your eventual goal of escaping? God, you sure hoped so. Thinking about the future, about your plans, lasts you the entire night, thoughts following you all the way into bed. Sleep feels a million years away, and you find yourself staring silently at the ceiling. Unmoving. Damn near unblinking. When there’s the sound of footsteps outside your room, you are more than welcome for the distraction.

“Wake up, little pet,” a voice calls, as your door opens, and someone quickly slips inside. Before you can even sit up, you feel them slide into the bed with you. “It’s too cold in my room. You’re much warmer, aren’t you?” Clearly your darling Cassandra come to entertain herself. Considering how late in the day it is, you feel like you should be upset, and yet you feel yourself daring to wrap your arms around her. For a moment she goes stiff, but she soon relaxes into your touch. “You’re getting so good at knowing what I want from you. Mmm, I think I’ve trained you well,” she teases, shifting onto her back so she can pull you onto her chest. Although you’ve been this close to her before, this is the first time you’ve realized just how cold her skin is. No wonder she wants to sleep with me, you think, blushing at your unintentional wording.

“Fuck, you’re freezing,” you mumble, curling up against her nonetheless. She’s laughing then, without any hint of her usual malice, and you can’t help but laugh with her. When had the two of you gotten so warm with each other? Why did it feel so natural? There’s anxiety gnawing at the base of your skull, threatening to build up into a headache, tugging you away from the softness of the moment. If Cassandra notices, she’s quicker to act than you would have expected. It feels safer to believe that her next actions are a coincidence. Feels… better, when you remember that you are playing her for cheap, that any friendliness is a mockery made for the most bitter of betrayals to come.

“That’s why I’m here, dear. Now hush, I need some rest. With how comfortable you are… I may even let you sleep in,” she teases, before pressing the gentlest kiss to the top of your head. Your throat dries up in response, blush overtaking your cheeks, and you are left unable to speak. The thundering of your heart seems to somehow lull your would-be lover to sleep, while you find yourself growing to love the contrast her chill provides. Somehow, someway, you end up sleeping more soundly than you have in years.

—————————

Another month passes. No opportunities to escape, no grand moves to make in this 4D game of chess, no clever plans to entangle yourself in. Yet you find yourself content. Happy. The work keeps you as busy as ever, but Cassandra often steals you away for her own desires. When she goes to drink your blood, she does so gently, with many soft kisses leading into the big moment. Afterwards she cleans your wound herself, touches as light as a feather, eyes sparkling with unspoken affection. At night, you find her coming to you for warmth almost every day. At first she provides little more than teasing excuses. But in time, she becomes more open, even being so bold as to kiss you on the lips every time, greeting you with quiet “dear”s and “darling”s. It gets to the poin that you cannot sleep without her presence.

Day after day, you find it harder and harder to remember why you were doing this. Was it so bad to enjoy your time with her? Was it so bad to find yourself leaning into her touches, kissing her back, gleefully awaiting your nightly rendezvous with her? Sometimes the thoughts were overwhelming, guilt and shame alike dancing inside your chest. Those days were the hardest to get through. Somehow, again and again, you go to her for comfort. To the very source of your conflict. Every last feeling was driving you towards an inevitable point. A conclusion written in stone, one that had been decided from the very first time Cassandra dug her fangs into your neck.

—————————

Screaming. Horrible, horrible screaming, somehow more pained than that of any maiden you had ever heard, echoing throughout the castle halls, achingly familiar in tone. You had never heard her scream before, and yet you knew that the sound came from Cassandra. Before you can even begin to process your realization, you are thundering through the corridor, towards the noise that rattled your mind so desperately. How could anything possibly hurt her? How often had you seen her push her siblings around, each of them taking hits that could break bones as if they were light shoves? As if the punches tickled? Horror overtakes your thoughts, imagination far worse than reality had any right to be.

When you at last reach your lover, you are frozen in your tracks, eyes wide as can be. There she is, howling with both rage and pain as someone repeatedly slams the butt of a rifle into her head. Behind the fighting duo is a sight you never thought you’d see: An open door. Wide open, enticing, leading straight into the world you had sought to rejoin. You want to leave. God, you want to leave so bad. This is what you have been waiting for- Cassandra has not even seen you yet, too busy grappling with her attacker, movements too slow to be normal. What was wrong? Why were her limbs such a strange color? Was that… frost on her clothes? Or… crystal? Your gaze flickers back and forth between her and the exit, as time seems to pause, memories of the past few months racing through your mind. Goddamnit, you think, this is what I want, isn’t it? Consequences be damned, right? I said I wouldn’t stop for anything.

And so you move, automatically, on autopilot, unable to think about anything other than what you treasured most: Cassandra. One moment you’re standing still in the foyer, the next you’re grabbing a poker from the fireplace. You’ve never done anything like this before, but the movements come naturally, as you surge towards the scrambling pair. In one swift motion you drive the metal rod into the skull of the intruder, hating the sound, hating the splatter of blood against your clothes, hating the feeling of resistance followed by a terrible, terrible give. But the man slumps almost immediately, allowing your girlfriend to shove him off of herself. Still unable to think coherently, you’re throwing yourself into her arms.

“Holy shit, holy shit, oh my god, I- I, fuck. Are you…? Fucking tell me that you’re okay, please,” you ramble, holding the dangerously cold body of your girlfriend close to you, refusing to let go. She’s crying, clinging to you as desperately as you cling to her. But she’s responding in the affirmative. Over and over, saying she’s okay, telling you that it’s okay. Before you know it, she’s the one comforting you.

“Hey, hey, look at me. Okay? Look at me, take a deep breath. If anyone should be freaking out it’s me,” she says, pulling back enough to cup your cheek with one hand. There’s blood on her fingers, making your eyes go wide, but she quickly wipes it off with a scowl. Then she’s caressing your skin again, soft repeating motions perfect for calming you down. “That’s right, see? We’re fine. You’re a fucking badass, darling, and honestly? It’s very attractive.” Now you’re both giggling, you a bit more than her. Because of course she’s flirting right now. It’s an incredible softness. One that you, quite frankly, do not feel you deserve. At first it’s a tiny voice in the back of your head, but it soon grows until it strikes the smile from your lips. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Shit, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine, really,” you interject, as fast as you can, ignoring the tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Cassandra isn’t convinced, however, and gives you a pleading look. Knowing that you cannot resist her, you close your eyes, sighing, then admit your wretched truth. “The door. Cassandra, the door’s open. I… I came down the hallway and I saw the two of you and I saw the fucking door and I… I hesitated. I hesitated.” There’s a mighty tremble to your voice, teeth and lips shaking. In the moment, you cannot bring yourself to meet her gaze, eyes instead glued to the bloodstained floor. It’s so quiet that you swear you can hear your tears hitting the tile. The air around you is filled with a looming heartache, a shadow over the two of you, hungry for your tears. But the rage you anticipate from Cassandra never comes.

For fuck’s sake, she pulls you closer. She takes you in her arms, making you rest your head against her chest, one hand gently rubbing circles into your back. Shock makes you unable to do anything other than linger limply in her grip. Thankfully, she has more than enough words for the both of you.

“Of course you did. All you ever wanted was to escape, right? And all I ever wanted was to see how much fun I could get out of you before you betrayed us,” she admits, coolly, as if the words didn’t break both of your hearts. At first, you merely start crying harder, realizing that she had seen through you this whole time. Realizing that all of her softness had just been sharpness covered in sheep’s clothing. Except she’s not done talking. “Now look at us. Couple of idiots who caught feelings. So shut up, because we’re in this mess together, now, and I don’t intend to let you go, understood? You-” she pulls back, looking you right in the eyes- “are mine. Besides… you just killed for me. I think that more than makes up for any hesitance, yeah?” Before you know it you’re kissing her. You’re pressing yourself to her, smiling through your tears, forced to pause to laugh at yourself. How ridiculous had this whole affair been? How had you convinced yourself, for so long, that escape was all you had cared about?...

All this time you thought you wanted out. But at the end of the day… you just wanted to go home. How could you have guessed that you would have found a new home, here, in someone’s arms? Despite the surprise of it all… you couldn’t be happier.

[spencers-renaissance]

Trees and Seas Have Flown Away, I Call it Loving You

Summary: Derek says something hurtful, but it happens to lead to just about the best thing that's ever happened to Spencer.

Tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, making up, bullying, angst with a happy ending, autistic spencer, coming out, getting together

Pairing: Morgan x Reid

Word Count: 3.2k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

Spencer is having one hell of a morning. He’d slept late, a significantly rare occurrence for him, and the metro had been delayed and diverted, leaving him to walk a decent chunk of his journey into work. To top it all off, he’d left his pencil case at home, leaving him stuck with cheap office supplies on a paperwork day. 

He hates days like these, when his mood is so seriously affected by events beyond his control, and he knows he’s just going to continue to fester in his own self-prescribed misery if he doesn’t take some drastic steps to change the way he’s feeling. 

After a moment of staring into space as he considers his options, he decides on a few deep breaths to try and calm himself down. Surveying the mess on his desk after opening his eyes, he tackles that next, sorting through case files that can be filed away and organising the notes he’s currently working on as well as rearranging his personal items to stop them taking up so much room. Already feeling better, he takes a few sips of water and some painkillers for the headache he can feel coming on, and locks eyes on the break room. His mid-morning coffee is due.

Elle and Derek are chatting at the counter when he pushes the door open, and he smiles at both of them. He’s still getting used to being around Elle. She’s so confident and intimidating that he’s not really sure if she likes him that much, and it definitely doesn’t help that she reminds him of the girls he used to go to school with, the ones who found it amusing to laugh at the much younger autistic boy, hiding his stuff and calling him names, standing by and laughing when the older boys would beat him up. 

He tries very hard with her, though. Maybe this would be a good opportunity to build more rapport, he thinks, so he listens in while he refills the coffee machine’s water. It’s definitely got nothing to do with how much he wants to climb Derek Morgan like a tree.

Derek looks over and catches him up in that thoughtful sort of way that always gets Spencer’s stomach fluttering. “Elle’s just telling me about the hot date she had on Saturday,” he winks, nudging her in the side. “He seems like a catch.” He sips innocently at his coffee and Spencer realises belatedly that he’s being sarcastic and watches for Elle’s response. God, he wishes conversations weren’t so damn convoluted.

“Oh, fuck off, Morgan,” she says, rolling her eyes. “You’re just jealous because I got laid and how long’s it been for you? Months?”

It’s Derek’s turn to roll his eyes, looking over at Spencer in a way that has him flushing pink. “Come on, Greenaway,” he laughs, “you know full well I’m not exactly lacking in that department.”

Elle gives him a dubious look, before raising her eyebrows and sipping her coffee. “Whatever you say,” she says in a patronising tone - the kind that reminds Spencer of an adult indulging a fantastical child. Derek laughs again, tapping lightly on the underside of her mug and causing it to spill over her hand a little. Spencer envies how easy it is for other people to elicit such a beautiful sound from Derek’s mouth; the few times he’s intentionally made Derek laugh he’d felt like he won a trophy, the sort he’d frame in a cabinet and show off to visitors, giving them a tour of the limited map of Spencer’s victories with a proud smile on his face.

He watches the exchange a little awkwardly, not knowing how to respond to these two very dominant personalities discussing an area he’s not overly familiar with. Unfortunately, they don’t ignore him forever and Elle looks over at him, her intense, fiery gaze already stirring up nerves in his stomach. “Anyway, what about you, Reid, when was your last hot date?” she teases, and he cannot for the life of him figure out if it’s friendly or malicious. 

He flounders for only a second, cheeks heating up steadily, before Derek interjects. “Oh come on, Elle,” Derek scoffs. “Not sure Reid’s whole ‘twink aesthetic’ thing is quite what women are after, is it, pretty boy?” 

Instantly, humiliation bleeds into his veins. His stomach swirls and he feels dizzy, completely out of his depth as his face reddens even further and he starts to sweat. The playful nudge that digs into his side doesn’t do anything to bring him out of the protective trance his mind’s gone into. “I--” he tries, but he’s cut off by Elle clearly growing bored of the conversation and pushing off the counter-top to leave. 

She turns around for a moment as she heads towards the door, walks backwards a few steps as she delivers the final, devastating blow. “Hey, you never know, Reid,” she grins, “maybe the whole virgin genius thing will win them over instead.” She chuckles to herself as she leaves the room, door swinging closed behind her softly, leaving Derek and himself standing there in a vacuum.

Today of all days. It’s been a long time since the last time such a crushing level of humiliation was burning inside him, but he remembers the emotion like muscle memory. His body knows exactly what to do as his gut swirls and his head spins, sweat beading on his skin as though the very little self-esteem he had left is leaking steadily: the stopper that had been keeping the small amounts of confidence he had inside him degraded and dissolved by his coworker’s careless words, nothing there anymore to stop it leaking out of him. 

It’s not new. But the sting is so much more visceral when it’s shocked into him by two people he considered friends and one person he was hopelessly, desperately in love with. It feels exactly like high school and university did: the toleration of his presence for intellectual reasons, for everything Spencer had to offer, but ultimately the social rejection of him as a human being when it actually came down to it. He was useful to the team for as much as he could give them. And that was it. 

Derek takes a sip from his mug as Elle leaves, but he doesn’t notice Spencer’s completely frozen state until he tries to move on to another topic. “Spencer?” he asks, obviously concerned at his non-response and completely oblivious to his inner turmoil. “What’s wrong?”

He can’t find the words to respond, but he does manage to meet Derek’s eyes and he just stares at him for a few seconds before he shakes his head and looks away again. Derek’s clearly confused, but that only makes it worse. Is he overreacting? Or is Derek just truly that oblivious to the cruelty in his words, to his feelings? 

Feeling the tears burning in his eyes and adamantly refusing to cry in the middle of the breakroom, he turns around and hurries to the bathroom without saying a word. 

⭐️

He barricades himself into a stall and sits on the closed toilet seat as tears steadily spill down his cheeks. This is exactly the reason he hasn’t told a soul at the FBI -- how would a group of alpha personalities who were likely the most popular kids in high school, likely would have bullied him if they’d attended the same school, that he was gay? 

The humiliation stings more coming from Derek. Such negative association with his sexuality had proved himself right: this was a secret he needed to keep quiet. It just hurt so badly that the man he loved seemed so dismissive, so rude about something so integral to his being, and the allusions the entire exchange had to previous traumas had him struggling for breath through the steady stream of tears. 

It takes him a few minutes but he eventually manages to calm himself down. He splashes some cool water onto his heated skin and tries his hardest to breathe deeply, even though it feels almost impossible at first. Usually when he gets worked up and has a meltdown or a panic attack he’s able to talk himself out of it after he’s calmed down a little; able to rationalise and apply logic to the situation, which tends to illuminate either an overreaction or a clear path through the problem.

That coping mechanism is not applicable, though - Derek and Elle truly hurt his feelings and there’s no way around that. Instead, he just tries to push it to the edge of his mind. He thinks through the quantum physics problem he’d started at breakfast, and the logical progression through the formulas and rational reasoning he has to use brings his heart rate down and he feels at least a little calmer, even if the twisted knot of dread and grief and pain still sits heavy in his stomach. 

He’s just solved the physics problem in his head when the door swings open and he can hear Derek’s signature tread on the bathroom floor. “Spencer?” he calls quietly, pausing as the door closes behind him for just a second before making his way to the end stall. “I know you’re in there.”

“I am in here,” Spencer confirms, resenting how weak and watery his voice sounds. 

Derek sighs heavily. “I didn’t get it until I talked to JJ,” he admits, speaking through the door. “I was confused why you suddenly acted so strange so I asked her what she thought was up. I thought it was all friendly banter. To be honest, I didn’t even realise what I’d said until I was explaining it to her. But you gotta understand, pretty boy, I never meant to hurt you. I’m so sorry.”

Spencer squeezes his eyes shut, but the tears still escape anyway, spilling down his tears in an expression of silent grief as he listens to Derek. He takes a deep breath in through his nose and swipes the tears away from his cheek with his fingertips before unlocking the door, revealing the most apologetic expression he’s ever seen. It doesn’t make him feel much better. He still meant what he said.

He smiles weakly. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, and his voice sounds so vulnerable, it’s giving him away. 

Derek’s expression doesn’t ease at Spencer’s forgiveness, he doesn’t smile and consider the issue done and dusted, he frowns harder, eyes desperate. “No, don’t dismiss it,” he says. “I hurt you, and that was wrong. I shouldn’t have said what I said, and Elle shouldn’t have either, okay, kid? I’m really sorry.”

“I know, but I’m used to it,” Spencer says, trying for a light tone and missing the mark by an embarrassing amount. 

“Well you shouldn’t be,” Derek frowns. “If you’re so used to it, though, then why did this affect you so much? I’ve never seen you lose your cool like that.” He looks genuinely confused, and combined with the sorrow smothered across his features, it’s a pitiful sight. 

“Don’t push, Morgan,” he warns, looking back down at his hands. His back hurts from his awkward, hunched position on the cold porcelain of the toilet. 

“Seriously, Spencer, I--” Derek looks completely bewildered, caught off guard by the way he clearly expected this conversation going and the road it’s actually taken. 

“I’m gay, alright?” Spencer interjects, loudly. He looks up fiercely into Derek’s eyes as he says it, but the fight quickly drains out of him and he looks down at his hands again, tensing automatically in fear of his reaction. 

Derek doesn’t say anything though, so when Spencer eventually looks up again, he finds a strange expression on his face. Not mild disgust or confusion or awkwardness, but relief and fear and frustration. 

“Spencer, I--” He cuts himself off as he shuffles his feet and looks away, but Spencer doesn’t miss the mournful tone as he realises the true impact of his words, how they must have hurt him. “You’re gay? That’s… why my comment was so hurtful, I’m so sorry. I never wanted to imply any kind of homophobia, I mean… I’m bisexual,” he admits, the same fear Spencer had felt swirling in his stomach written on Derek’s features. 

“You are?” Spencer replies, surprise colouring his tone. He feels a surge of hope rise in his chest and he forces himself to tamper it. Just because Derek likes men absolutely does not mean he likes men like Spencer. In his experience those kinds of people tend to be fairly rare. He stands up from his uncomfortable seat, meeting Derek’s eyes properly for the first time since he entered the toilets.

What he means to do is give him a hug, or maybe have some sort of conversation on a more equal playing field. He does not mean to kiss him. 

But when all of a sudden Derek’s lips are on his and Derek’s hands are cradling his cheek and waist so gently, surely it would be rude not to kiss him back. So he does. Far too passionately for a public bathroom in an FBI building, by all accounts.

They break away eventually, and Derek immediately panics. Spencer can see it rise in his eyes and body language, so before he can say anything he pulls him into the stall properly, shutting the door behind them and kisses him again, more gently this time. It’s the most confident thing he thinks he’s ever done, and he’s damn proud of himself because he does not want to go another day without Derek kissing him as tenderly as he is right now, without his hands roaming up and down his sides, without the careful brush of his fingers against the side of his head as he pushes a strand of hair back behind his ear as they pull away again. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that, pretty boy,” Derek whispers, and Spencer can feel the gentle brush of his breath against his lips.

He’s lost for words again, but in a completely different way from just minutes before, and he absolutely cannot believe this is happening. Today of all days. 

“Me too,” Spencer confesses, smiling slightly as he allows himself to convey the vulnerability he’s feeling on his face instead of building up a wall in front of it as he usually would. It doesn’t take long for reality to set in though. “But we are in an FBI building and we could definitely lose our jobs for this.”

“Right,” Derek acknowledges, looking up as he puts a bit more space between them, as much as the tiny stall allows. “Later, though, we could maybe do this… not in a government building?” 

Spencer’s always wondered how it feels to be on the receiving end of Derek’s romantic charm and charisma, and it’s rather overwhelming. Derek’s smiling cheekily as he interlocks their hands and waits for an answer and Spencer’s finding it a little hard to breathe again.

“Like… a date?” Spencer squeaks, face flushing again -- though admittedly in a much more pleasant manner -- as he prays he hasn’t got the wrong idea.

“Yes,” Derek smiles, “like a date.” He pauses and takes a breath, grinning wider for just a second before he suppresses it slightly and looks back at Spencer. “How about… I swing by your place at 7 and we head to that new Italian place you’ve been talking about?”

“Really?” Spencer asks, face open and vulnerable and honest. He hopes to God that he’s not being mocked right now. It’s happened before. He’s not sure Derek really understands the amount of trust he’s placing in him, the burden that might bring. 

“Yes, really,” Derek chuckles, bringing a hand up to rest at the side of his face again as he thumbs gently over his cheekbone. “I’m gonna wine you and dine you, baby, just you wait and see.”

Spencer knows he won’t be able to speak without squeaking embarrassingly again, so he just nods emphatically and beams at Derek. 

“I’ll see you at 7, then, pretty boy,” he winks, pressing a brief kiss to his lips. “I’ll be counting down the hours.”

⭐️

Taking care to exit the toilets separately, they return to their desks, filling out the paperwork left over from their most recent case. Spencer is certain that more than one coworker picks up on their shy, knowing looks, shared over the top of coffee mugs and cheap printer paper,  but he can’t find it in himself to care. The very thing he’d craved for almost three years, since he first stepped foot in the bullpen and was introduced to Derek Morgan, was within his clutches and he was going to hold on to it no matter what it cost him.

Things feel different almost immediately: ‘pretty boy’ is infinitely more affectionate, the previously platonic touches are lingering and meaningful, Derek’s completely unnecessary paperwork consults seem more affirming and reassuring than ever. The idea that he could possibly spend the rest of his life with Derek Morgan’s hands on him, his passionate kiss on his lips, his compliments and nicknames warming him from the inside out, feels almost dizzying. He knows he’s smiling stupidly, he also knows that JJ and Elle are smiling knowingly, but he just doesn’t care.

He drives himself home and dresses in his smartest suit as soon as he gets back, even though Derek isn’t due for another 30 minutes. For reasons he refuses to acknowledge, he tidies his apartment while he waits and then takes a seat on his sofa, tapping his foot in anxious anticipation. By the time he hears a knock on his door, his heart’s in his mouth and his stomach is fluttering wildly, but that all fades to irrelevancy when he locks eyes with Derek.

“Dr Reid,” he says calmly, smile providing a soft kind of light to his face and Spencer wishes he never had to look away. He passes him a beautiful bouquet of flowers, and Spencer knows enough to recognise it’s a curated bunch, not a hasty supermarket buy but a thoughtful, purposeful trip to the florist. 

“Wow,” Spencer says, and he absolutely tries to fight down the emotion rising in his throat but he isn’t quite successful. He takes the offered bouquet and examines them in closer detail, tracing an index-finger along the petal of a yellow daffodil. “New beginnings,” he whispers as tears spring to his eyes. He stares at it a little longer before looking up to meet Derek’s softened, deep brown eyes. He’s still in disbelief that someone would go to the lengths of researching the language of flowers for him, knowing it was something that he liked. “Thank you.”

“New beginnings,” Derek repeats, taking another step closer, “love me, desire, wisdom, and affection returned.” He lifts a hand to rest on Spencer’s cheek again and looks deep into his eyes for just a moment, conveying all he needs to with one look, and leans in to kiss him.

⭐️

Aaaaand this is the conclusion to my 12 Fic Challenge! Thank you to everyone who supported my fics through this journey, I can’t believe all the amazing things it’s led to and I’m so happy that this is the fic to end it. I’m so excited for what’s next in store, so stay tuned! <3

@strippersenseii @criminalmindsvibez

[sope-and-shine]

Lost and Found

-> Namjoon x Reader -> Soulmate!AU // Fluff -> 6.2k (This fic was at 6,199 before post, and I couldn’t let that happen) -> Summary: In a world full of soulmates and soul marks, you just had to get stuck with the dynamic duo. -> Warning(s): none // maybe just fluff

A/N: I suggested the name to Belle as I was drafting the post, and she said she’d sue me if I didn’t use it.

ALSO! A BIG BIG BIG THANK YOU TO BOTH @multycoloredtaco​ and @purpletigertaetae​ for reading this and giving me some really good feedback! I love you both SO MUCH!

* * *

Soulmates have always come in several different shapes and sizes. They’ve always appeared to each other in various ways. Your mother and father met by their own personal song that only the two knew of, one that played when they spared a thought to the other. Your aunt had found your uncle with a timer on her wrist, and your grandpa had the unfortunate fate of meeting your grandmother while catcalling her. According to him, it was a very eventful day, but at least her words to him finally made sense. Everyone in your family - besides your great aunt who hasn’t aged since the late 1890s - has had the amazing luck of finding their soulmate. Not everyone gets the luxury of being with their soulmate how they planned to. You’re actually friends with a shop owner who lost his soulmate about a year ago and hasn’t seen any color since. You honestly couldn’t imagine the pain he’s been through. Thankfully, your soulmate mark was not as painful.

It was just extremely annoying.

As a child, you never questioned the items that would appear in your room, thinking of them as odd gifts that your parents or your brother would leave for you. You were no stranger to finding a single sock under your bed, the occasional candy bar tucked away in your backpack, or the odd action figure that you would take to your brother thinking it was his. It wasn’t until the first homework assignment with ‘Kim Namjoon’ scrawled at the top that you began to think something wasn’t right. And that was only the beginning of what was to come. 

As the years went by, more and more random items began appearing in your room at your parents house, your dorm in college, and finally your very own apartment. Each item you placed in boxes under your bed as a way to keep a piece of him with you until you could find him. However, you never imagined how forgetful and chaotic your soulmate could really be. You have everything! Clothing items, more homework assignments, various books, glasses, baby photos, and you even have a random girl’s phone number! You were tempted to call her when you first found it, but you figured that would be too weird. Instead, you continued to organize everything under your bed in hopes of giving it all back to him when you would finally meet.

Of course, you were a victim to your soulmate mark as well. Many jewelry items had disappeared from your room without a trace as a result. Hoodies, stuffed animals, and even a bra that you could’ve sworn you put in your gym bag - part of you hoped he’d hide it away because not only was it a cute bra, it was also expensive. Recently though, you’ve both been a lot more responsible. You haven’t seen any new items appear in your apartment for almost a month, and with your soulmates track record of losing 11 items in one day, a month was a huge record on his part. But you were starting to miss the gifts that would give you clues to him.

After you found out what your soulmate mark really was, you started looking forward to what would be left in your room next. Of course, it wasn’t always a win on your part, and sometimes what he lost was very questionable, but it always made you laugh when another item appeared in your room. At first, it was weird to think about someone else’s stuff appearing in your room with no prior warning, but it made you feel special to know that he was ultimately giving you pieces of himself every time he let something out of his sight. They made your long days more bearable. It makes you wonder if he’s the type of person to shower you with gifts when you feel upset or just to show his affection when he felt it was necessary. Especially on a rough day like today.

There was nothing wrong with your job, you loved everything about it! Life as a lead optician was actually a very rewarding job in the end. Helping others choose the best glasses for their face and individual personalities was one of your favorite parts, you loved watching little old ladies try on vibrant, colorful frames to feel youthful. They’re always very excited to see clearly again. Then there are all the little kids who would sit down with you to get glasses for the first time, and the look on their faces when they finally got to see the world clearly was heartwarming. Their soft smiles and wide eyes filled with amazement always made you feel a little softer inside. However, not everyday was a good day, and today was really not a good day.

Everything was going perfectly fine until the 3:30 appointment showed up at 5:00 after the doctor had already left for the day and demanded to be seen. The doctor’s technician was so scared trying to explain to the patient that they’d have to reschedule their appointment, and the poor thing was just trying not to cry over the one person who couldn’t understand how society works. Obviously, as the lead optician on duty you took over, but this patient was one of the most inconsiderate people you’d ever had to deal with. Demanding to be seen, demanding to buy glasses with an old prescription, demanding to speak to a manager - which at this point was actually you, so done and done - and just cursing up a storm at you and your fellow coworkers who all tried to help explain. The whole ordeal just took way longer than it ever should have to deal with, and it probably took at least 25 years off of your life. 

“Why do people feel that they need to be rude to get what they want?” Soohyun had asked you, “Do they think it’ll just magically fix everything?” 

You had agreed, “It’s like they think you’re really just messing with them. Like, “Oh no, sir! You’re correct! I apologize for the inconvenience, let me pull that out of my ass for you!” Though maybe not appropriate for the work environment, you’d at least made her day just a little better with your humor. 

On days like today, a nice warm shower and a cuddle pile with all of the pillows and plushies that cover your bed made everything much better when nothing new appeared in your room. If the odd gifts the universe left from your soulmate couldn’t cheer you up, then you’d do it yourself. And that you did. Nothing felt better than the warm water washing away the day’s pain and suffering, the delicate fragrance of the coconut shampoo you splurged on easing your worries down the drain. The floral body lotion and leave-in-conditioner you’d bought on the same shopping excursion also help your body relax, their scents so intoxicating to you, that you almost topple over onto the tiled floor of your bathroom from the instant pleasure they pull from you. Instead, you make your way to your bed, adorned in your comfiest PJs and fluffiest socks.

However, you weren’t expecting to land on something so hard and uncomfortable when you plopped face first onto your sheets.

“What the heck?” Pushing yourself onto your knees and pulling back the covers, you find a small, golden trophy resting comfortably in the warmth of your sheets. On all sides it reads, ‘MNET Asian Music Awards’ with a small plaque reading, ‘2017 MNET Asian Music Awards: Artist of the Year’ at the bottom of one side. It takes you a moment to understand fully what you hold in your hands before it actually hits you.

Your soulmate is an idol.

A forgetful idol if he lost such an important award, but at least this gave you a lead as to who your soulmate is besides one of the most common surnames and a few measly pairs of mismatched socks.  

Setting the award to the side, you grab your phone from your nightstand and unlock it, clicking on your browser and typing away. You look up the artist of the year from 2017 and find the top result to be a boy band called BTS. According to Google’s nice little summary and AllKPOP’s top article, they seemed to be pretty famous. Of course, you’ve heard of them before, and if you heard one of their songs then there was a good chance you’d probably recognize it! But you’ve never really been one for boy bands. You were more into kdramas if you were to be completely honest, they’re definitely your guilty pleasure and way more your speed than handsome young men dancing on stage in front of screaming girls trying to get in their pants. Could you really blame them? No. Not at all. Given the chance, you’d take it, but it wouldn’t be anything special if it wasn’t your soulmate.

Your soulmate.

Namjoon.

Changing your question, you search for ‘Kim Namjoon BTS’. If he actually pops up, then that would mean you actually know who he is. 

Finding the nerve to press search, you are bombarded with three pictures above a description of him right off the bat - You hate to admit it, but soulmate or not, he’s definitely handsome. You click on a random site you hope will give you some useful information about the man who’s most likely your soulmate and are immediately redirected to something called K-Profiles. The site itself starts off with a group picture of all the members, followed by their names below it, and their social media handles under that. You’d have to look them up later.

The first member you come across is your soulmate himself. He has his blonde head resting on top of his arms with a soft, dimpled smile as he stares right back at the camera. Eyes locked onto his through the screen, you can feel your heart speeding up just from looking at him. You can’t help but smile back at him as if he can actually see you. As if he were right there ready to come out and say ‘hi’. 

He’s absolutely breathtaking, and it isn’t even him.

You continue your hunting, scrolling further down to learn as much as you can about him. How old he is, when he was born, where he was born, what his favorite color is, you want to know it all! You learn that he’s the leader of the group, that he used to be known as Rap Monster before he changed it - that USB in the box under your bed made a lot more sense now. You learn that he has a sister, and that he and his band members are advocates for UNICEF, and that this man was so incredibly intelligent yet also known as the ‘god of destruction’ to those around him. But also listed on his profile is his soulmate mark. 

“As said in a V-Live where RM explained a stuffed animal he kept on his desk, anything RM loses will appear with his soulmate and vice-versa. He has yet to meet his soulmate.” You read. You’ve lost quite a few stuffed animals to Namjoon, hopefully, it wasn’t an embarrassing one that would haunt you later.

You come to the end of his profile and to the top of another handsome man, yet you don’t scroll down. You haven’t learned enough. You need to know more about him, about how you can meet him. You have to know more! And that’s how you find yourself still up at 5am the next morning still wide awake watching yet another video interview of your soulmate just to hear his voice. A part of you is embarrassed for staying awake all night for some guy, but another part of you can’t let it go when you’re so deep already. 

* * *

You called into work after your late night-early morning escapade, telling them you caught something from one of your friends and wouldn’t be in for the next few days. There was no way you were going anywhere with the sleep you just got, and it wouldn’t be fixed in one day either. Even after sleeping the morning away you were still tired from your late night-early morning endeavor. It’s not like you really cared though, you had just found out who your soulmate was. And unlike a lot of other people in the world, you had an entire collection of videos dedicated to just your soulmate and his passion.

It didn’t take long for you to dig your nose back into the screen of your phone just to watch him make that gorgeous, dimpled smile. There were so many videos where he talked about you, sharing some of the items you had lost with his fans like they were his best friends. He looked so proud to be showing off your things, and the look in his eyes when he’d get lost in his own thoughts just looking at them made your heart melt.

You’d heard your mom and dad talk about how happy they were to have a special song just for the two of them. Your mom used to tell you all about the day your father tracked her all the way from the grocery store, pushing through the crowd like a love interest in a kdrama because he heard her humming their song to herself. At a young age you always thought it was sweet and wanted to meet your soulmate just like your mom had, but you eventually realized as you got older that a strange person following you home is not something you want. However, now you kinda wished it could work like that, seeing that your soulmate was practically untouchable. 

Of all the people in the world, you just had to get stuck with a celebrity with millions of girls from all over the world fawning over him. Getting chased in the streets must be on this guy’s workout regimen by now! How were you supposed to get anywhere near him without spending over $1,000 just to look at his face?

“How much are those fan-meet things?” You ask yourself aloud. Innocent enough, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the entire process that came with going to just one fansign. This wasn’t something you could just buy a ticket for. No. You had specific steps that you had to follow or you wouldn’t even stand a chance. There were so many steps that you were tempted to just find his company and blast music until security came to take you away. Maybe you’d at least get to meet him when they filed a restraining order.

No. You HAD to meet him. You haven’t saved all of his lost things just for you to chicken out now.

So, you made a fancafe account and waited for their next promotion to purchase an album, you waited for the lottery winners to be announced, and you almost doubled over when you saw your name on the list from the store. You thought 3 months was long enough, but the 24 hours before the event were the longest hours of your life. So long that you couldn’t even sleep!

That’s where the wrench comes in.

You hadn’t meant to stay up so late at all, but you were really excited to finally meet the man that’s been losing everything he touches - especially now that he’s started losing air pods under your bed. So, when you woke up at 10:30am for the fansign that started at 11, you knew you’d messed up. 

You messed up bad. 

Of all the irresponsible things you could’ve done, staying up late was not the one you should’ve chosen to do. Now, you’d have to wait even longer to see him. Maybe the universe was right to give you both the worst soulmate mark known to man.

It wasn’t like waiting for the next fansign was bad, but it wasn’t the best either. Everyday that passed was another day that you had to watch him through a screen. Seeing his dimpled cheeks smile at the camera - at you - making your heart race. He was so close to you, but he was so out of reach. When the next fansign did come around, you had to make sure you made it on time so you could see it in person for yourself.

That’s what you told yourself.

To your credit, you almost did do that! But you had no idea there would be so much traffic. Not only that, but you’d tripped and dropped the box of things to return to him on the street and had to pick it up before anyone saw what it was you were holding. Because of those small issues, you made it to the venue five minutes after they had closed the doors. 

“Please, I’m only five minutes late!” You beg, breathing heavy and labored. You stare at the worker just doing her job with high hopes that she would have some sort of empathy for you, but her face showed no remorse.

“If you wanted to be let in, then you should have been on time.” She scolds, closing the doors on you and leaving you outside to wallow in self pity once more. 

At least the first time you’d messed up you were in the comfort of your own home where you could cry over your failure. Now, you were left in the open for everyone to see your mistake. You were so close too. He was just behind the doors. Waiting to see the adoring faces of his fans that you should be a part of. 

Yet you’re on the streets.

* * *

“Don’t you think you’re going a little overboard?” 

“What makes you say that?” You turn to your friend from your seat on the ground outside of the shop you’d purchased your album from, dressed in a light hoodie with a coffee in your hand. The light of day just peaking through the cracks between the buildings as the street lamps turn off for a new day. 

At this point in your journey to meet your soulmate, you weren’t going to take any more chances. The store didn’t open for another 3 hours, and the event started an hour and a half after that, but you were going to be sure you had your ticket and made it to the venue on time. You didn’t care how early you were, you were going to see Namjoon if it was the last thing you did.

The poor, tired woman seemed to pick up on your indifference to your change in behavior and sighs, “Nothing in particular. I’m just concerned that maybe you’re taking this to the extreme now.”

“I’ve tried and failed three times already, Bomi. I cannot miss another chance to meet them!” You explain, taking a sip from your warm cup.

“Maybe the universe is trying to tell you that they’re just a boy band and you shouldn’t get so excited over them. They all have soulmates anyways.” Of course she didn’t know that you were going because one of them was your soulmate, but you couldn’t risk anyone finding out and telling your soulmate before you could tell him. 

“I know that, but it’s worth it!” All the hours you’d spent waiting, watching their new content, reading their tweets and various posts from other social media wishing you could see him in person for just a moment. This was the fourth attempt, and you didn’t want to continue this cycle of hit and miss. “I’m not missing it this time.”

“Well, waiting outside of this shop so early just to get a ticket that’s already yours is absurd!” 

“You didn’t have to come with me.” You grumble. It wasn’t like you didn’t know that. You were very much aware of the fact that it was insane. It was something you thought about every time you failed to make it into the venue! Having her reiterate what you already knew did not make it any easier.

However, your acquaintance wasn’t having your response, “I did. You blackmailed me into coming with you so you’d actually do it right, remember?”

The vague memory of sending her an embarrassing picture you had as a way to convince her to come flashes through your mind. So maybe your methods were unconventional, but they worked. “That’s not important!” 

You both continue to wait by the store’s entrance, making light conversation as more people begin to show up for their own tickets. Of course, you knew they’d be here, that’s why you left extra early to be there first. It was a good thing you did too, because as the time ticked on and the line grew longer, it became obvious a lot of fans had purchased their albums from the same store you had. Even as the store owner arrived to start their day, not at all surprised by the line that had formed for them, there were still fans lining up for their tickets.

But in the end, you were first to arrive and receive your ticket, and that made you one of the first to the venue.

“Alright, we made it. This is where I leave you.” Bomi hikes her bag further onto her shoulder and turns to face you one last time before she leaves, “Don’t make a fool of yourself in there. And do not show them your airpod collection!”

‘Oh, I’m returning the airpod collection…’ You think to yourself, sending a quick wave goodbye to her.

Waiting for the doors to the venue to open didn’t take as long as you’d thought it would - security check taking even less time. You found your seat pretty easily as well, being placed on the left side of the empty table in the middle of the sea of chairs. Taking the time you have while everyone finds their seats, you take a peek inside of the box you’d brought to grab your album and just look at everything you’d brought to begin their return to Namjoon. You made sure to bring every pair of air pods you had found - and hadn’t sold on eBbay - a few old homework assignments, USB’s, pictures he’d taken through his pre-debut, and the trophy he’d misplaced that lead to your discovery.

Hopefully his band members wouldn’t be too upset with him.

You’d learned a lot about each of them over the two years you’ve spent trying to meet with Namjoon. So many times you’d been tempted to put yourself on the fan page or DM them on Twitter, but you were too afraid of being drowned out by other ARMYs or one of the other boys blocking you before Namjoon could see. No doubt they each probably had hardships of their own trying dodge fans claiming to be their soulmate. Watching as they each come to the stage individually, you could see why anyone would lie to call them theirs. You couldn’t deny how handsome they all were - you’d be lying to yourself if you said you thought they weren’t handsome - but no one could compare to your Namjoon.

If you get the opportunity to meet his stylist, then you’re going to give her the biggest hug for making him look this amazing! It was just a plain white, button down shirt tucked into a black pair of dress pants, but the top two buttons of his shirt undone and the grey, satin suit jacket with the addition of black, square glasses and his brown hair neatly parted to the left make him look like a god - should they exist. He takes your breath away, even if you’ve seen every picture and fancam you were able to find. The universe really said, “this one deserves the best” and threw you the biggest catch out there. You could only hope he enjoyed the simple pair of jeans and pastel yellow sweater you’d thrown on for the occasion.

It takes a while before they begin the meet and greet part, the boys introducing themselves and asking questions, letting their fan sites take pictures before they turn their attention to the individual fans as they pass them. With every moment that passes by, every row you watch stand and enter the line to the stage, you become more and more nervous. Of course, you knew your soulmate was truly Namjoon, but you were still terrified to reveal that truth in front of everyone. You’d seen a few announcements regarding the boys and their soulmates, talking about how their respective soulmate would be treated like another one of the boys and would be protected by BigHit as soon as they were found. You knew you’d at least have his company behind you, but…

What about his fans?

You can’t help but fester in your own thoughts, letting them consume you even as you make your way into the line with your box. You try your best to muster up the courage you need, but the looming presence of the table getting closer and closer makes your breathing harder. All you need to do is remain calm. They were just people.

The people who’ve spent almost 7 years with your soulmate.

And your soulmate himself.

No biggie.

“Ma’am.” The voice of the staff keeping the line interrupts your internal panic, pulling you back to reality. He points to the table where an excited Taehyung smiles eagerly at you with an empty space in front of him. “You’re next.”

“Yes! Thank you.” Reeling from embarrassment, you quickly kneel down to the space in front of the table. You give a small bow and hand over your album to the boxy-smiled boy in front of you, your hands shaking from how nervous you are. All you had to do was make it through 5 more boys and you’d meet your soulmate. 

5 more people....

...and you’d meet your soulmate.

A hand lands on top of your own, “There’s no need to be nervous!” Taehyung is bright and happy, calmly running a thumb over the back of your hand as he uses the other to sign your album. His eyes shift from you to the paper and back to you, “You’re doing great~”

You felt a little bad for probably ignoring him. He must’ve been trying to introduce himself when he’d noticed you’d spaced out yet again. Yet here he was, acting as though it wasn’t even that big of a deal. Of course, he still had about 50 more people or so to have a minute conversation with, but he genuinely seemed to care. It made you feel more confident.

“Thank you.” You say, a smile gracing your lips. You were still nervous, but at least now you felt calm and somewhat collected to at least make it through the other members. You move onto Yoongi, then to Jeongguk, to Jin, to Jimin, and then to Hoseok. Once again, you’re feeling a little guilty about the time you spend with him. It wasn’t like you weren’t excited to be in front of him, but your soulmate was less than 2 feet away from you looking like he walked out of a Vogue photo shoot with a happy little smile on his face. Hopefully, if all goes well you can apologize to him for being distracted.

The staff moves everyone along and your time finally comes. You bid Hoseok a quick thank you and goodbye and move yourself in front of Namjoon, his box tucked close to your body as a way to keep you grounded. 

Namjoon takes your album from Hoseok before he turns his full attention to you, his dimples that you’d been obsessed with since you’d first seen them making an appearance. His dark brown eyes stare into your own, “Hi, what’s your name?”

You’re so entranced by the man in front of you that you almost don’t respond. You manage a quiet, “(Y/n)...” But you’re so stunned and breathless that you think about repeating it just to make sure he hears it.

“Really?” He asks. His eyes widen for just a moment, and you know he recognizes it from a homework assignment or a book you’d probably lost with your name in it. You watch his shoulders as they tense and then relax as if they’d never lifted in the first place. “I really like that name. It’s one of my favorites.”

You watch him turn to the album in front of him, looking for the page you’d like him to sign. Being in front of him now, you feel your confidence grow. You can’t help yourself, “Really? Is there a reason?”

“I’ve just always liked the name.” He says, looking up momentarily with a tight smile. He probably didn’t want to be too obvious about his soulmate - well, you - so fans wouldn’t go looking for you. That must be the one downside to the life of an idol. You watch him carefully, taking in the way he handles your album with care. You watch him flip through pages, his smile slipping for a confused frown. He looks at you, “You don’t have a question for me?”

You jump at the sudden realization that you hadn’t given him the box yet, “No! I do…” This was it. You look from him to the box you’ve clung onto for two years, “It’s inside the box.”

Carefully, you slide the box forward, feeling the nerves you’ve been feeling all day spring to life. He takes it from you with a grateful smile, probably expecting a bear or something you’d made yourself just for him. But judging by the look on his face, you can tell he wasn’t expecting to find the objects in front of him. His shocked face makes you chuckle.

“I’ve always wondered how one person can lose so many things. I understand homework and socks, the airpods, but an entire trophy, Namjoon? How do you lose a trophy?” You ask. You wait for an answer, but he looks as if he’s completely shut down. His jaw hangs open ever so slightly, and his eyes are wide in disbelief. You see a glisten in his eyes and your amusement turns to worry, “Are you okay?”

The leader turns to you, glistening eyes staring into your own. His mouth opens and closes and it looks like he’s trying to find the right words to say, “I-...I don-...oh my god, you’re actually here.”

You watch as the shine in his eyes turn to tears that slowly roll down his cheeks, his mouth struggling to decide if he wants to frown or smile. You’re more worried than anything, “Wah-! Don’t cry! Why are you crying?!” You reach for his hands that still rest on the sides of the box, mimicking what Taehyung had done for you when you first stepped up to the table. “Please don’t cry.”

“I can’t believe you’re here.” He says softly, his voice cracking ever so slightly. You’re still confused if he himself is happy or not, trying to make sense of why he’s crying when he just met you. You watch his eyes drift over you with an unclear expression. Was he happy? Was he sad? Were you supposed to be reacting the same way?

“You’re beautiful…” He says, teary eyes meeting your own.

“So are you.” You respond. It’s only after the words fall from your mouth that you realize what you said and you try to correct yourself, “Handsome! I meant to say you’re handsome! You’re very attractive in a very masculine way, but that’s not to say you don’t express femininity well when you choose to and you look good all the time and-” Amidst your struggle for the correct words, he’d begun to laugh at your own expense. Not how you imagined this meeting to go, you shrink back to your side of the table, “I’ll just stop talking.”

“No! Please, keep talking.” He begs, moving forward to come closer to you. He pulls on your hands that still connect across the table, squeezing to reassure you that he still wanted you to be near him. It felt so nice to have him hold your hands, so nice and comforting, that you must’ve missed the glistening in your own eyes, “Now you’re crying!”

Your hands pull from his to hide your face, “No I’m not, it’s just raining inside!” 

As you try to wipe away your tears, you hear the voice of Jimin call over the speakers just off to the side of the table, “You’re not supposed to make the fans cry!”

“I didn’t mean to!” Namjoon defends. In all fairness, you did make him cry first, so this was probably fair.

Hoseok claps his hands together, his voice just subtly coming through the speakers as well, “This is so sweet! We’re all witnessing two soulmates meet for the first time!” 

“It’s like a movie, but without the flower petals.” Taehyung adds, having a mic of his own on his side as well.

“Miss.” Another staff member appears next to you, only this time they’re offering a hand and a smile, “Could I have you come with me?”

You’re nervous at first, not sure if going with this staff member would be the best idea. However, the presence of Namjoon’s hand on your own once more draws your attention to his heartwarming smile, “It’s okay.”

You nod and stand, allowing the staff to lead you behind the table and into the hallway to a waiting area. They have you sit on the couch, assuring you that Namjoon and the others would be there to see you soon. This at least gave you a moment to collect your thoughts and come to the realization that you really just met your soulmate after so much hard work to get there. You’d thought plenty of times that you’d regret trying to meet him this way, but now you couldn’t be more elated that you actually got to speak to him and hold his hands. You made him cry - what were hopefully - tears of joy! Even as their manager sits down to make small talk with you while you wait for the end of the fanmeet, you can’t help but to feel as if you’re on cloud 9. 

It’s not too long until you hear that the meeting has come to an end, making your heart rate speed up. Once again, you take a deep breath in and let it out, preparing yourself to face Namjoon again. Only when he does come in, you both just stare at one another. Him from the doorway with his members waiting behind him and you from your spot on the couch. You’d already met, you’d already held hands, but this...he was right there.

“Well, are you going to talk to her or just look at her?” Jin asks, a mischievous smirk gracing his features as he stares at the younger.

It would seem that the small jab at the leader was all he needed to push himself forward, legs moving swiftly across the room in long strides just so he can reach you. You stand, intending to meet him halfway, but he’s already pulling you into a much needed embrace before you even get the chance. His arms wrap over your shoulders, caging you close to his chest as he leans down to rest his head on your own. He smells so nice, and his embrace is so warm, they almost distract you from the wetness you feel on top of your head.

“Namjoon…?” You ask, worried you might make him cry more by asking.

The man himself pulls back, quickly moving to wipe his tears as if he hadn’t already cried in front of you already, “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m so emotional right now.”

“Don’t apologize. I think it’s cute.” You assure him. You look down, feeling a bit embarrassed yourself, “Much cuter than showing up to your fansign with a bunch of your things.”

“How long have you known?” He asks.

“2 long and painful years.” You sigh. Thinking back on everything you’ve done since discovering who and where he was, you can’t help but be thankful it worked out this time around, “I’ve tried coming to a fan sign 3 times before this.”

“Couldn’t win a ticket?” Jeongguk asks from the side, a bottle of water in his hands.

Your sheepish smile turns into a strained one, “Yeah...we’ll go with that.”

Yoongi seems to pick up on your change in attitude, “Don’t tell me…” 

“No wonder the universe put them together, they’re a match made in heaven!” Jin laughs, the sound being much more entertaining in person. The other members of BTS continue to talk amongst themselves, discussing the scene before them as well as how exciting the day had been. But Namjoon, instead, focuses all of his attention on you.

“Please tell me you’re free for the rest of the day.” 

For once, you were more than happy to use your holiday time, “I’m free for the rest of the weekend.”

“Good.” He says, giving you another look at his beautiful, dimpled smile.

“Good...”

* * *

“So, what’s in the box?” 

[thephantomofthe-internet]

Chapter 7: A Sentimental Journey

Steve Harrington x Reader

CATCH UP ON THE SERIES HERE

Words: 3,095

Warnings: None? I mean probably swearing but this is straight fluff

Tags: @divinity-deos @wolfish-willow @scoopsohboi @thecaptainsgingersnap @herre-gud-nej @clockworkballerina @maddie1504​ @i-am-trash-so-much-its-scary @buckysarge​ @wildcvltre​ @n3wtscaseofniffler5​ @peterparxour @linkispink1995​ @a-big-ball-of-idk​ @used-avocado​ @mochminnie​ @sledgy14​ @the-creative-lie​ @yall-wildin-like-siriusly​ @ggclarissa​ @boredoomfm​ @voidnarnia​ @anonymousonion33 @the-passionate-freak​

“Steve, take me to prom,” Steve nearly shot milk out of his nose. He’d spent the morning counting down the hours till school was over. The final essay for crabby old Lawrence was due in less than a week and you still hadn’t handed over his essay for his final rewrite, which wasn’t a problem, he could just wait until he was back in your bedroom. Steve liked your house a lot more than his. He liked your grandparents, especially Maude who’d sit him on the couch and show him photos from your childhood. He liked your bedroom and digging through your sketchbooks, he liked how comfortable you were in your own space. Samantha would sometimes join the pair of you there, eating popcorn and playing her 48s on your dusty Mickey Mouse record player. But most of the time it was the pair of you alone, working on assignments and swapping stories. He’d forgotten about Vicki entirely, he’d only joined Tommy for lunch after he grabbed him by the arm and pulled him over.

“What?” he sputtered, swallowing hard. The whole table was watching him carefully. Vicki merely shrugged, batting her eyelashes at him. Steve’s stomach soured. It wasn’t as if Vicki wasn’t an attractive person, she was very pretty, but only on the outside. He didn’t really have it in him to stomach another night with her.

“I…I kind of have my eye on someone else, Vicks.” Steve watched as she deflated, looking down at her untouched kernel corn. “Besides, Hargrove’s probably itching to take you anyway.”

That was the wrong answer. Vicki immediately burst into tears, pushing away from the table. Carol rushed to console her, Tina taking up the rear. “They broke up last week, jackass.” She bit out, flipping Steve off angrily as she followed behind the crying Vicki.

Steve stood from the table, heading away from the mess he made. He didn’t want to hang out with Tommy anyway, especially with him glaring him down from across the table. He didn’t get why it mattered so much to Tommy that he do things the way he wanted. Dating Vicki didn’t make him more or less popular. It literally didn’t matter. They were going to graduate soon anyway.

Samantha grinned as she caught Steve walking over. “Harrington, twelve o’clock.” She whispered. You didn’t look up from your pad. The light had caught his hair right and you wanted to finish your shading before you lost the image in your mind. You heard Steve pull out the chair next to you and then your pad was tugged away.

“Hey!” you cried, your charcoal making a wide black streak down the page, effectively ruining the drawing.

“Who’s this supposed to be?” he held the sketchpad in front of him and then next to his face. Samantha chuckled darkly, shaking her head. “Is this supposed to be me?”

“Well, it was going to be till you ruined it.” You grumbled, snatching the pad back .

“That looks nothing like me!” Steve laughed loudly. In truth, he thought the man in the picture was too symmetrical and handsome to be him.

“On what planet?” Samantha scoffed, pulling her butterscotch pudding cup away from Steve’s greedy hands. He was a notorious pudding thief, and food thief in general, much to her annoyance and surprise.

“I get the best of everyone’s features…” you muttered, working on removing the mark he’d made “Not that there’s much to discard from you…”

“You missed the scar on my nose.” He replied with a shrug, grabbing your vanilla pudding. You both knew that you wouldn’t eat it.

You looked up “What scar?” Steve pointed to the bridge of his nose. You inched closer, getting a better view of the mark. Steve held his breath, utterly paralyzed. He felt like such a doofus. He was usually so smooth with girls, but you made him utterly tongue tied.

“Hm, yeah you do.” You pulled your face back, turning back to your pad, adding a thin line to the strong bridge of his nose. “How’d you get that?”

“Got hit in the face with a baseball bat in pee-wee t-ball.” Steve admitted. The participation trophy he had was from that game, his father took him out of the sport after getting hit. His whole team won the season, but because he didn’t play he got a tiny trophy from the league as a consolation prize.

“Seriously?” You and Samantha said in unison.

“Yeah, I made the paper and everything.” That was a point of pride for Steve, he had the clipping somewhere in his room. You and Samantha laughed at his cockiness. The image of elementary aged Steve with a huge gash down his nose and a toothless grin, holding up a dinky little trophy for the poor, underpaid reporter taking down the story.

The bell signalling the end of lunch blared over head and the three of you rushed to collect your things. Steve grabbed your tray, waiting for you to pack up your things. Samantha left without you, bidding her goodbyes to the pair of you.

Steve reached out to touch your elbow lightly, drawing your attention to him “We still good to hang out after school?” he asked.

“Yeah, sure, we can look over your essay.” You shrugged, trying to get the electric current blazing up your nerves to settle. Your breath caught in your chest every time he touched you. You wouldn’t lie to yourself, you liked him. You more than liked him; you didn’t even know how to explain it. You’d say it was love but you weren’t even sure how that was supposed to feel. All you knew is that the world seemed better when he was around and it wasn’t everything seemed greyer and duller. He was summer personified. He was sunshine and summer evenings and flowers and everything beautiful. And you never used to like all that shit. But now you wanted to bask in the glow of the sun that was Steve Harrington.

The hours till the bell always ticked slower and slower after lunch. The individual grains of sand cascaded past your eyelids as you zoned out in your other classes. When the final bell rang, the pair of you rushed from opposite sides of the school to meet in the middle. Samantha was walking disgustingly slow to your shared locker. “So, yeah I was going to ask Robin but I figure it might be suspicious enough to go with a girl, besides I don’t think I can snag another ticket so close to the deadline as is,” she’d been going on about whether or not she should invite her little junior paramour to the prom.

“Yeah, I mean most people already think you’re weird enough, showing up with a random junior might totally ruin you.” You sneered. Graduation was just around the corner, and Samantha’s acceptance to Wellesley was well taken care of. She was almost out of Hawkins; there was no point in trying to pretend that she was straight.

“It’s not me I’m worried about, it’s her. She’ll still be stuck here after I leave, I don’t want to make things hard for her.” Samantha replied with a shrug, pulling her gym kit from the bottom of your locker.

“Just take my ticket. You know most of the soccer team is going anyway.” You replied, shoving her cleats into her bag. You dropped your textbooks onto the tiny top shelf and pulled your messenger bag across your body.  You spotted Steve from across the hall. He’d just left his gym class and his hair was wet and dripping on his face. He bounded over to you, grinning like a fool.

“You ready?” he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“You ever going to dry your hair?” Samantha mused. Steve shook his head hard, water flying off his to dry it like a dog would. You and Samantha screeched, holding up your hands to hide your faces from the water.

You smacked Steve’s back “Enough!” you cried. Steve stopped immediately, laughing softly.

“I’m gone, catch you tomorrow.” Samantha waved, jogging off to probably find little Robin. You and Steve headed off towards Steve’s car. He drove the pair of you home even when you weren’t hanging out. It was nice to have a ride home, Hawkins weather wasn’t kind in spring and even in May when the weather turned warmer and the sun shone brightly, rain could still hit at any moment. That was how you rationalized making maps in your mind of Steve’s hand on the gear shift and the way his jaw clenched when someone tried to cut him off or turned too slow in the left hand turn lane. He was too beautiful. It was painful to watch him, like staring directly into the sun. You thought about kissing him more than you’d ever admit out loud. It felt like wanting to kiss the statue of David, like Pygmalion with his Galatea, too self-flagellating to even attempt. You didn’t know why you felt like his creator, but you did. You’d done nothing to build him, to mould him, and yet you left as if you knew him better than anyone else. You understood his nature, the way his mind worked.  

Steve parked in his driveway and the pair of you headed across the street to your house. Your house seemed to be a specific choice for both of you. For you, being in your own home was comfortable and safe. You knew it like the back of your hand and it felt correct to be there. A cocoon of security for you to burrow into. Recently, Steve’s mother had been home much more than a month ago. You couldn’t read his mind, but being somewhere else than his own bedroom was probably a nice change. He seemed to keep you away from his house when his mother was there.

You unlocked the front door, kicking off your shoes in the doorway and tossing them on the rack. Steve followed suite mindlessly, calling into the house “Hey, Maude! Mr. Y/L/N…” he still wasn’t certain that your grandfather liked him; he seemed at times disinterested and at others cruel and cutting.

“Nice to see you again, Steve.” Maude smiled, poking her head out of the living room to smile at the pair of you. Your grandmother liked Steve. You were certain that she’d like anyone new you brought home. She was desperate to meet any of your friends and refused to believe that she’d met them all.

You and Steve headed upstairs, taking your usual seats in your bedroom, you on your desk chair and Steve laying flat on your mattress, constantly staring up at the stars. You read back his essay to him, noting the problems you’d found. This was the third time you’d edited it and the words were well worn into both of your brains. He’d decided to write on way Heathcliff is painted as a monster within the text, a fine topic which Mr. Lawrence had suggested as one of the topic choices. His argument was that Heathcliff is painted as a monster because of his interest in a woman he’s come to find in a sisterly position in his life. Basically, incest isn’t cool. It was a hard argument to proof, because the answers weren’t in the text itself, you had to push him to find points within the spaces in between the words. You were proud of the final piece that he’d created; it was a strong case and a decent attempt at a college level essay.

“What’s the verdict, chief?” Steve asked, sitting up slightly to address you fully.

“It’s good, there’s still a few sentences that need reworking and a quote that I think you could axe, but even without those edits you can still swing a solid B.” you handed the papers over to him. The pages had the least amounts of edits you’d done for him all semester. He’d really improved his writing.

“You think?” Steve replied, flipping through the pages quickly, noting the wide circle around a bit of dialogue from the fifteenth chapter. He couldn’t help but smile at the wide, bubbly ‘B+’ you’d scrawled at the top of the page. You’d drawn a little smiley face next to the grade, a small touch you’d started doing after editing his second paper, a little one pager about the thirteenth chapter of Wuthering Heights. He liked the little smiles, they made him happy whenever he saw them, they were a little touch of you on his work, a detail he refused to miss.

“Duh!” you scoffed, rolling your eyes.

Steve stood from your bed, turning his attention to your shelf. You’d let him go through your work before, a small feat of trust for you. You didn’t usually even let Samantha go through most of your work. You’d usually choose what people could see of your work. But Steve seemed to like the strange, unfinished, or messy works hidden in binders or pads shelved. He pulled out a grey binder, labelled in masking tape ‘Hawkins’ Most Beautiful’. He held up the binder to you, raising an eyebrow. “Now, what the hell is this?” he asked.

“That was my first attempt at a portfolio, before I learned what a portfolio was.” You replied with a small length. Steve opened the binder, which you’d turned into a sort of album with plastic viewers holding sketches in place, both in black and white and colour. He recognized the first one immediately as Nancy from about a year ago, judging by her ringlet curls. It looked so much like he remembered her, but he knew the girl you’d drawn wasn’t who she really was. Steve flipped the page. He didn’t recognize some faces, strangers to him, and you hadn’t labelled them with names. You done a couple recreations of yearbook photos, he remembered signing a picture of Carol, Tina, and Vicki from the previous year, the trio grinning in Hawkins High merchandise.

“You could do a whole like show with these, they’re really cool.” He held the binder up, pages flipped to the portrait you’d done of Barbara Holland. When you’d drawn that, you hadn’t known that she’d go missing or wind up dead, she was just the girl sat across from you in the library with interesting glasses.

“I’d want to redo them first. They’re all rough drafts. I planned to redraw them, choosing to emphasize one colour for each of the drawings, but then I also planned to black out their eyes, and then I thought they were all stupid ideas.” You explained sheepishly.

“No, don’t touch them.” Steve cut in “They’re perfect the way they are.”

Steve wasn’t much of an art critic. He certainly wasn’t an objective judge. But despite logic, you blushed heavily, turning your gaze away. You wished Steve would look away but he didn’t, you felt his eyes on you. “You really don’t have to be so nice, you know…” you muttered, looking up to meet his eye with a shy smile.

“Go to prom with me?” Steve hadn’t thought about the question before he said it. The subject had been on his mind since that afternoon and when he told Vicki that he had someone else in mind for the dance. At the time he didn’t think much of the statement, now it seemed obvious who his subconscious was alluding to.

“What?” you breathed out wide eyed and confused. You hadn’t planned on going at all. Samantha wanted to go, and you’d bought tickets but when she gained interested in Robin you relinquished your ticket easily to her. She’d have more fun on a quasi-date with the junior.

“Go with me,” he chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “You don’t have a date yet do you?”

“I don’t even have a ticket…I gave it away.” you replied, looking at your feet instead of him. You felt like such a little geek. You knew Steve wasn’t laughing at you, but you still felt small.

“I have two. And I want you to go with me.” Steve said simply, reaching out and taking your hand.

“Are you sure? I mean your friends all hate me and I don’t think your status as king will be damaged if they see you with me.” You replied, shaking your head as if the statement was funny. You couldn’t imagine spending the night with Tommy and Carol, and having it go well.  You knew that it wouldn’t.

“It doesn’t have to be like that. It can be whatever you want.” Steve said easily. He just wanted you to feel comfortable and it was so obvious that you weren’t. “And I don’t care about those guys. I’ll kick their asses if they try anything.”

“Whoa, calm down, we don’t want you getting hurt.” You joked, looking up at the ceiling. You didn’t have to know Steve personally to know that he was not a fighter, losing to freak Jonathan Byers was not a small story in a small town. Steve laughed at his own expense. Internally, he knew he could fight when he needed to, to protect people, but he couldn’t exactly tell that story. It still scared him too much to speak of.

“So, will you?” he asked. You rubbed your lips together, unsure what the right answer was. If there even was a right answer. Your gut instinct said yes without a doubt, but your mind fought back at the notion of even humouring the idea. You’d get laughed out of the place. You’d get mocked. Steve was playing a cruel prank. He couldn’t want to be seen with you. But you met his eye and you didn’t see any malice there. His wide, expressive eyes screamed kindness and patience.

You swallowed hard, pushing away feelings of worry. “Yeah, okay…” you said softly, taking Steve’s hand again to steady yourself. Steve would protect you if he needed to. He’d promised to. And you trusted him.

“Yeah?” he asked, matching your tone.

“Yeah.” You nodded hard, almost as if to convince him as well as yourself. Steve’s face split into his wide grin and you found yourself smiling too. Despite yourself, you were a bit excited. You spent the afternoon with his hand in yours, not letting go unless you did, looking over the portraits and discussing what you saw in the faces. It was the first moment of peace your heart had found in a long time

[sherrybaby14]

People Can Lick Too

This is for my darling @barnesrogersvstheworld

Prompt:  People Can Lick Too.

Pairing:  Steve x Reader

Warnings:  Serial Killer AU,  Dub-con, rough sex, fem dom, choking,

Summary:  You don’t realize who your night time visitor really is.  

Words: 2800

“I’m telling you, it was shut when I left for work.”  You walked over to the closet and braced yourself, holding out the phone as you yanked open the door and shut your eyes. “Is anyone there?”

“YES!!! It’s the killer!”  Bucky’s voice carried over the phone.

“Eeek!”  You started jogging in place, almost dropping Bucky who began cackling away.  Your heart beat calmed down and you opened your eyes to see your coats hanging there.  “Not funny.”

“Well what would I do over FaceTime anyway?”  Bucky tilted his head and gave you that smug know-it-all look.  “Knock the guy out with my words?”  

“I know.  I’m just freaked.”  You walked back over to the windows in your small apartment and made sure they were locked again.  “I mean, those dead girls.  They sort of look like me and I swear the windows were shut.”  

“You’re on the second floor.  He’d have to be pretty strong to scale a brick building.”  Bucky sighed.  “There’s over 8 million people in New York.  None of the other girls lived near you.  I think you’re over reacting.”  

“Still a psycho killer on the loose?”  You went into your bedroom and flipped on the light, holding the phone in front of you so Bucky could scan the room.

“All clear.”  He sighed.  “Don’t forget to check the closet in there and under the bed, wait maybe he is hiding in the ceiling tile?  Can you push those up.”  

“Ceiling tile?” You glanced up at the solid plaster ceiling and rolled your eyes.  “Maybe I am being dramatic.  Can you just get here.  Please?”  

“I have to work late.”  Bucky scratched his head.  “The earliest I’ll get off is 2 am.  Then by the time I do closing duties.  The sun will practically be up.”

“So you’re not coming?”  You sat on the edge of your bed.

“I didn’t say that.”  Bucky’s eyes darted off camera.  “I’ll be there.  Just late.  You can’t wait up for me.”  

“But what if I want to?”  You pulled your feet up, folding your knees.  “It’s been over a week.”  

“You are a little devil.”  Bucky wiped his mouth.  “But you need to relax, get some rest.  How about I do that thing you like to wake you up?”

“Which thing?”  You raised an eyebrow as your brain scanned the many of Bucky’s talents.  

“You know, when I take your fingers in my mouth.  Lap my tongue at them.  Give a little suck?”   Now his tongue ran across his lips sending a shiver down your spine.

“That would be a nice wake-up.”  

“So relax.  You’re fine.  Nobody is in your apartment but you.  It’s too small for anyone to hide.”  Bucky narrowed his eyes.  “Be a good girl and get some sleep.  I have a feeling you’ll need some stamina for when I arrive.”  

“You’re right.”  You shook your head, the paranoia being replaced by giddiness. “Try and get out early?”  

“Not going to happen Doll.”  Bucky brought his fingers to his mouth and gave a lick.  “Mmmm.. yours taste much better.”  

“You are a tease.”  You unfolded your legs and stood up from your bed.  “You have your key right?  I’m not leaving the door unlocked.”  

“Shit. I left it at home.”  Bucky ran his hands over his hair.  “Leave your ringer on?”

“Fine.”  You strutted to your bathroom.  “If you get off early, stop and get it?”  

“What happened to get there as fast as possible?”  Bucky pouted.  

“That was before you convinced me I needed some beauty sleep.”  You giggled.  

“Well you are a beauty.”  Bucky’s teeth dragged across his bottom lip.  “Stop distracting me.  I have to get back to work.  Sleep well.  Get ready for a fun wake-up.”

“Have a good night at work.”  You winked. “See you later.”  

Bucky blew a kiss before disconnecting.  

You looked in the mirror and blew a raspberry before turning on the shower, letting the room fill with steam.   Thoughts of the window replaced by eagerness for Bucky’s visit.  You put on a playlist at full blast as you stripped down.  Planning on being extra clean for you man.  

~~

The adrenaline from this hunt was different than the others.  Maybe because she was aware of the dangerous in the city, noticed the window, or that phone call with her boyfriend.  She was an absolute trophy.  

Steve was certain any second she was going to peek under the bed and see him laying there.  Even if she didn’t have the time to let out a scream that boyfriend of hers would have called the cops.  It would have been game over.  

But fate was on his side.  Now the noise from the shower drowned out the creak of the floorboards as he slid out from his hiding spot.  

Killing one of his victims in the shower would make for easy clean up.  Not that he ever needed much.  He yanked his gloves down harder.  His hands the preferred method.  So intimate, watching as he saved them from the suffering of this world.  All these women were angels and deserved to head home.  He was merely a conduit.  

His heart raced as he entered the small bathroom.  The curtain was opaque and he got a view of her silhouette when he drew close.  His heart almost stopped as all the blood rushed to his south.  Exquisite.  She was the best of them in more ways than one.  Perfection.  

For the first time since he started this project Steve hesitated.  No.  She had to die.  Return to heaven where she belonged.  He moved forward again, but she started singing along with the music.  He’d never wanted one of his victims before.  Not like this.  

Was this a sign?  She was wanting.  He heard it in her voice on the phone.  Maybe he was wanting too.   Maybe this was the perfect set up for him to give her a better send off.  One more deserving of her.  Yes.  That was it.

Steve snuck back out of the bathroom.  The bed was too close a call.  She’d already checked the hall closet.  He slid inside just as the water stopped, the clicking of the door hidden by her tunes.  This was good.  Better.  It would be a shame to let this opportunity go to waste.

~~

Tossing and turning was an understatement.  You were in and out of dreams like you had a fever.  Some points you felt so cold you debated on getting out of bed and putting on clothes, but then the heat would come back and you remembered you wanted to be ready for Bucky’s arrival.  

You were in a light sleep when there was a hand on your wrist, lifting it in the air.  Your face turned into a smile and the problems melted away.  

“I didn’t hear you.”  You turned on your back, the room was pitch black, almost darker than normal.  You made out his figure, but before you could comment on it he took your fingers into his mouth.  “Mmmm.”  

Instead of sucking on them right away he ran his tongue down them, almost lapping at your fore and middle.  It was a different sensation that made you coo.  You started to press into his mouth when he bit down.  

“Ooo!”  Your sleepiness started to vanish.  “That’s new.”  

He relaxed his teeth and sucked hard, moving his head back until your digits left his mouth with a pop.  You stifled the giggle, not wanting to ruin the moment.   Bucky spun your hand and his lips crashed against your wrist.  His kiss was harder than normal.  The week break must have been hard on him too.

He kissed down, your core dampening as he got closer to your body.  You brought your other hand up to his shoulder and felt his bare skin.  Was he naked too?  That would be divine.  

When he neared the top of your arm you shifted, spreading your legs so he could settle between you thighs.  Skin on skin.  You let out a purr as his body loomed over yours, his lips touching your neck.  

You tilted your head to the side.  He lapped at you, sucking the skin hard, pulling it between his teeth, until CRUNCH.

“Hey!” You shoved at him.  “That hurt.”  

He pulled back a little.  In the darkness it was hard to make out his response.  

“I mean, I don’t mind a little kink.”  You rubbed your neck not wanting to ruin the mood.  “But the most you’ve been into has been finger sucking.  This mean you’re ready for more?”  

Bucky responded with his lips.  They crashed against yours with such power you fell back into the pillow.  His mouth commanded yours to open and you had no desire to resist as your tongues pressed for each other.  

This was new.  Exciting.  His hand came up and rested on your throat.  You wrapped your fingers around his wrist and squeezed, wanting him to do the same.  He was always so gentle with you.  Finally a little roughness.  

His fingers sank in and you moaned into his mouth.  They pushed down hard and more of your juices gathered as a result.  You tried to lift your hips, brushing your sex against his cock.  He was so hard it made you whimper.  

The sound made his hand vanish and body pull away.  

“No.” You grabbed the back of his neck and arched your back as you sat up with him.  “I won’t break.  I’ll let you know what I can’t handle and you do the same.”  

A growl left Bucky’s mouth as he dipped his head to your chest.  You felt the roughness from his beard tickle your breast as his mouth wrapped around your nipple.  

“That feels so good baby.”  You ran your hands through his hair.  Had he gotten it cut?  Not that it mattered.  “Keep going.”  

His hand came to your other breast.  He started kneading and pulling you to a peak.  Mixed with the pulsing of his tongue on your alternate side your body felt like it was on fire.  Then you felt his teeth graze and you started to pull away, but got a better idea.

“Bite and I’ll slap you.” You knew Bucky wasn’t kinky enough to try anything, why shouldn’t you play the dom? Knowing what you wanted.  

But then there was a quick pressure on your sensitive bud.  

“FUCK!”  You shoved him away, his teeth dragging your nip with him.  

The stinging pain made you bring your hand to your breast, pushing down to ease the sting.  

Never one for empty threats there was no hesitation as you pulled your palm back. CRACK!  The slap echoed across the pitch black room, loudened by the darkness in a way.  

His chest was heaving.  Stunned.  It was obvious he did not know how to respond.  But you, you were becoming more turned on than you ever thought possible.  

You through your body forward, wrapping your arms around his neck as you smashed your chests and lips together.  Now it was you in control again.  Would he make another power play?  You wouldn’t mind.

“Quit fucking around and fuck me.”  You got the order out as you spread your legs and lifted your hips, ready for him to spear you.  “NOW.”

A grunt left Bucky and this time both of his hands went to your throat.  He started squeezing hard.  No warm up.  All the air escaped from your lungs, your eyes started to bulge.  You couldn’t be certain if your vision was fading or it was just the dark room as he pushed you back into the bed.

Now this, this was what you were talking about.  He thought he was strong, clever, was trying to show his power.  You enjoyed how wet his control was making you and thought about letting him choke you until you passed out, but your soaking cunt had other ideas.  

You straightened your palm as hard as you could and pushed your fingertips into his ribs.  Finding that tender spot and digging harder.   His grip started to loosen and you took in a big gasp of air.  

Bucky made some unintelligible noise and you shoved harder.  His body twisted and hands dropped as he went to knock yours away.  

You worked his momentum against him and flipped him over so you were straddling him again.  

“Nice effort.”  You grabbed the base of his cock.  “Appreciate the attempt.  But I’ve had enough foreplay.”  

As you sunk yourself down on him you couldn’t help but notice he felt bigger, you felt fuller.  

“It’s like you’re a whole new person tonight.”  When you settled all the way on him he was almost at your cervix.  “Maybe you’re ready to experience my other side?”  

Your hands ran up his chest until they got to his neck.  Bucky grabbed your wrists, making them feel small in his palms, but he didn’t push you away as you started to choke him.  You began to rock your body forward, dragging your clit against him as you tightened your grasp.

You knew you weren’t as strong as he was, but you could cut off some air.  And the power, the control of this strong man underneath you was enough to light a fire in your body.  You rocked in a wave motion, using him for your own pleasure.  

“When I squeeze harder.”  You applied more pressure.  “Your cock gets bigger.  And you like that? Don’t you?”  

His head nodded.  A grin covered your face as your head fell back.  

“Don’t forget what you promised me baby.”  You pulled one hand off his neck and shoved it into his mouth.  “Be a good boy and LICK.”

You moaned as Bucky did exactly as told, worshiping your fingers, his tongue pulsing against them as he sucked in.  You wondered how much he could take and started sliding the four of them down hard.  

A gagging sound left his mouth and you swore you had a mini-orgasm.  But that wasn’t enough.  You were ready for the big one.  

“You like this don’t you?”  You pressed his tongue down pushing them further and harder as you picked up the pace, adding a lift to your movement, driving your clit against him and his cock into you.  “Tell me I am in charge.”

An unintelligible noise left his mouth and a giggle left yours.  This power, this heat.  It was turning your into a mad woman with one goal.  The finish.  

As if Bucky could read your mind his hand went to your hips.  He started thrusting up as you thrust down. Your bodies working in tandem.  Your other hand went to his chest to brace yourself, letting him guide you to the release your body craved.  

“Fuck!”  You gripped at him, digging your nails without control.  “I’m going to cum. I’m gonna cum.”

He pushed your hips down hard and started dragging your body back and forth, you clit and g-spot activated at the exact right rate.  Even in the darkness you knew your vision blurred as you tumbled into ecstasy.  Sparks spreading through your limbs as you fell forward.  

Through the haze you felt his cock soften inside of you, your juices mixing together.  You pulled your hand out of him mouth and he coughed so hard his body shook.  You cuddled up to him as you climbed off, spent.  

“Thank you for coming…in both ways.”  The restlessness left your body as he kissed your head and grabbed your wrist, bringing your fingers to his mouth and licking them as you drifted off to sleep.

~~

A melodic tune woke you up.  Sunlight splintered in through your drapes.  You felt for Bucky, but the bed was empty.  You realized it was your phone and looked to see his name for a FaceTime.

“Where did you run off to?” The lazy smile stayed as you hit answer.  

“Please don’t have me.” Bucky was in his apartment.  “I had to stay later than I thought.”  

“What?”  You sat up in bed and pulled the sheet to your body.  “What are you talking about?”

“But at least you got a good night sleep right?”  He scratched the top of his head.  “What’s on your neck?  Curling iron burn?”  

“There’s something on my neck?”  You were out of it, but noticed a pain as you brought your hand.  “Wait.  I’m confused.”  

“Things got hectic.”  Bucky kept rambling as you got out of the bed and walked to the bathroom, eager to take a look in the mirror at what he was talking about.  

You flipped on the light.  The phone and bedsheet slipped from your hand as you stared ahead.  Your lipstick, open in the sink.

“What’s going on?  Did I lose you? Are you naked?”  Bucky drifted away as the world around you spun.  

Shock, fear, excitement.  All you could do was read the words over and over again:  

PSYCHO KILLERS CAN LICK TOO.

 -  

[sl-reign]

Luminous Enigma

Fantasy and Supernatural Novel By Sharina L Martin

Warning, this chapter snippit has Gory descriptions.

Chapter 6. WTF?

I've Just experienced the longest and worst day of my life.

It's 5:00am and its a freezing dark early morning, every surface outside is covered with snow. I throw the last black garbage bag into a garbage bin in a dark unpopulated alley behind some random restaurants. I made sure to fill other garbage bags with unimportant junk to cover the bags I was trying to get rid of. I close the bin then hurry and walk off with my hands stuffed in my jacket pockets.

I stuck around long enough.

Going back and forth from my SUV carrying out at least 6 or 7 bags I was really pushing it. I was so out of breath considering I was a small skinny woman, those heavy bags really took a lot out of me. I look around my surroundings once again as I approach my expensive truck. I quickly pull out my keys then unlock and start it with a push of a button. An old man walking by on the sidewalk with his dog where my SUV is parked smiles at me. I force a quick obvious fake smile and immediately hop into my truck. I watch the old man walking away with his big furry dog in my rear view mirror.

"SHIT!"

I scream to myself while repeatedly hitting my steering wheel. I snatch off the hat I wore to cover my long blond hair and throw it angrily at the windshield.  I was hoping I wouldn't be spotted by anyone but that hope just went right out of the window. The day started off so normal and ended with me throwing pieces of someone's chopped up remains in a garbage bin. I don't know how it got this far, and I can't believe I've taken it this far. But I'm not going to prison for murder! I can't! My life is finally coming together. I Just found out I was pregnant a few days ago and I'm getting married to the man of my dreams in a month. His ex-girlfriend came to my house threatening to expose to him that I've been sleeping with someone else. Not only would that ruin my relationship, but it will have him doubting if the child is even his.

 He's been away for months across sea's helping different countries that got hit with natural disasters. They needed more medical help and him being a respected traveling doctor, he didn't turn down the opportunity to help those in need. He comes back and visits a week or so out of every month, but I've gotten so lonely with him being gone. He'll finally be back for good in another week, but as my luck had it his ex-showed up yesterday revealing she's been watching and filming me, she even showed me a printed-out photo of me and the other man making out. I asked her what she wanted and she told me to give her fifteen thousand dollars a month for the next year. My fiancé just added me to an adjoined account but there was no way I could just take that money out. We had a lot of money, but it would be such a big repeated noticeable amount gone that it wouldn't be over looked, it was insane. She also revealed that she knew I was stalking him before we dated. She knew I was the cause of their breakup because... I framed her by making him think she broke into his mother's business and destroyed the place. At the time, I learned that her and his mother didn't get along and even argued so it was perfect. Now, she had the raw evidence proving her innocence and my guilt on many levels. She refused to be reasonable and told me to take the deal or leave it. The tramp was a scorned gold digger who lost her trophy and she wasn't letting him get away without getting some money out of him.

"This is all so unreal."

I say out loud to myself.

I was paranoid and frightened. I couldn't get the gory scene I created out of my head. All the limbs and blood that filled up my tub, I was a monster. I sawed her apart and it's a vision that I will never forget. I murdered someone in the big brand-new home that me and my fiancé were starting our life in. I took someone's child someone's friend possibly a sister. The sick part is I had so many chances to stop...

I told her to take a seat on the couch, my mind was racing a million miles a minute. She continued rubbing it in calling me a whore and calling him an idiot. She went on bragging about how she would reveal the evidence to him if I didn't pay up. She laughed at the thought of seeing me as a poor single mother struggling to raise a disgusting bastard child on my own.She went on to talk about my upbringing and how she knew I was homeless for many years then upgraded to white trailer trash.I didn't understand how she knew so much about me. She laughed at the thought of me going to jail for the crime she was falsely accused of. The more she dug up my life the angrier and more desperate I felt. The thought of being found out was eating at my insides like a virus, I almost wanted to faint as the room began to spin. Finally, in a fit of silent rage I grabbed a small marble figurine sitting on my fireplace then came up behind her and hit her on the back of her head. She fell to the side on the coach moaning in pain while swearing at me. I walked around the couch and hit her three more times until she stopped moving. I backed away while looking at her bloody head and dropping the figurine to the floor with shock. What the hell have I just done?

"NOOO!"

I cried out in desperation.

"Oh no, oh no no no no.!!"

I look down at my shaking bloody hands then back at the woman soaking my white couch with hauntingly deep red  blood. I spot my cell phone on the table  across the room and begin walking over to it. But I stop in my tracks.

"No, I can't call the police my life would be over! I can't do that I just can't!"

I walk back over and look at her.

"What am I going to do?"

I asked myself as I continued pacing.I kept looking from her to my phone as if fighting with my instincts on the right thing to do . My eyes finally break the back and forth cycle once I stare at the hallway that led to the garage door. Quickly, I went and grabbed a big blue tarp from my garage and rolled her onto it. I brainstormed for another couple of minutes until I decided to drag her to my downstairs bathtub. After covering her the best I could with the large tarp I began to drag her. Suddenly, I started hearing gargling and moaning coming from her. She was still alive! I stopped dragging her and stared down at the tarp with eyes as wide as saucers. In complete shock I began to once again pace back and forth while covering my mouth with my hand as tears starting falling from my eyes. I didn't know what to do, I've come so far and if she stays alive my life is sunk. Not only would I lose my fiancé and my baby, but I'd have tough charges pressed against me. Him and his family would hate me! I love his family so much! I finally felt at home with them and it would all be taken away. My child wasn't being born in prison and my child wasn't growing up without me!

Mind made up, I grabbed her legs and continued dragging her to the bathroom. I finally reach the bathroom and sit on the toilet out of exhaustion. She continues making noises as I stare at the tarp moving around slightly. I then get up from the toilet and use all my strength to get her into the large bathtub. After again catching my breath I walk out of the bathroom and head straight to my kitchen. Grabbing a large knife out of a drawer, I quickly walk back into the bathroom. For a moment I just stand at the entryway, I had to take a moment to convince myself that it had to be done. Finally, I walk into the bathroom and stand over the woman wrapped in a tarp inside of my bathtub. The knife is squeezed tightly in the palm of my hands as my breathing gets faster and faster. The woman surprisingly begins to mutter something.

"Please..."

She says in a cracked painfully desperate tone.

My eyes fill with tears as the knife burns in the palm of my hands. The woman mutters the words again but louder. It was then that I knew I had to end it. I lifted the knife up with force and brought it down with all the strength I had in me....I stabbed her repeatedly. I just stabbed her until I was convinced that she was dead. Shaken, I drop the knife then back away out of the bathroom with streams of tears running down my face. Eyes wide in sheer disbelief at myself, my back hits the closest wall and I slide down dropping to the ground. My hands and my pink sweater were covered in blood.

"HONK HONK!!!!"

Back in the present I snap out of my flashback when a car behind me honks at me for not moving after the light turned green. I begin to drive again as I let out a long sigh.Where does my life go from here?

I then find myself pulling up to an apartment complex. I couldn't understand what possessed me to drive here. I park in an empty slot and just sit in the truck.

"I don't even remember how to get home. What is going on with me?"

I put my hands in my face as begin to sob. My face and nose are quickly wet. It felt like invisible walls are closing in on me, I've ruined my life and I've taken a life. If I would have given in and gave her the money that she asked for I would have been figured out eventually. There would have been no way of hiding it! And if I told my husband about the affair he'd drop me and I'd be homeless again. If the child was his he'd take full custody and I'd never see the baby. If it wasn't his I'd be out on the streets with a baby in my stomach. I love my husband but as nice and caring as he is, he could also be a ruthless person. The man that I had an affair with was married and has four kids. He ended things with me when his wife found out about us. She threatened him with divorce and taking the kids along with her money. Even if we did decide to just stay together, he wouldn't even have any money to support the two of us. He married into money just like I did and she made him sign a prenup. He was nothing but a broke pretty boy getting taken care of...I guess it's what we both had in common.

I look back up at the apartment complex then get a moment of deja vu, this place looked familiar. I look around at all the apartment numbers and my eyes are drawn to apartment number 22 on the second floor. I turn off my truck then step out into the cold winter air and look around once more. Snow begins to lightly fall from the sky instantly reminding to reach into the car and grab my jacket. I put it on and begin to walk pass a few parked cars in their assigned stalls before I stop in front of stall 22. There parked in stall 22 was a green Volkswagen. Feeling a chill from the breeze I shove my hands into my coat pocket where I surprise myself by pulling out a pair of keys. Hooked to them was a car remote, I stare confusingly at the keys for a moment.

These aren't mine.

I then instantly remember throwing her keys in my pocket amidst my panicked rush. I look up at the beetle realizing it had the same logo as the car remote. I hit the button and the car chirped and blinked.

"What?"

I then notice that attached to these set of keys was what looked to be a personalized green key hanging on a gold frog charm. I look up at apartment 22. Oh my gosh, no way. Is this her place? Now that I think about it, not once did I wonder about how she got to my place. She must have taken a Lyft. What are the odds of me ending up here...this is so strange. I gulp and a more worried look spills across my face. Is this a twist of sick fate? Being here was a really bad idea.

I began to head back to my car but a thought stopped me and I looked back up at the apartment door.The rest of the evidence to my affair had to be in there. I couldn't just leave it; it would lead the cops to me. I grip the keys tightly in my hand just like I did the knife and curse at myself. Hesitantly I walk towards the Apartment. Finally standing in front of the door I look around before I slide the key in and unlock it. I step inside and close the door, Immediately I'm hit with a foul smell. I cover my nose with the sleeve of my jacket.

"What in the world is that smell?".....

Read Lumious Enigma on Wattpad >>> https://www.wattpad.com/story/240528799-luminous-enigma

[yaneyanedaze]

Don’t you remember?

(A SDC Jotaro x Oc +DIO fanfic )

Hi guys! This is a commission piece that I have done for @fyrestrike , I hope that you enjoy this fanfiction! This is a good example of what you could get when you commission me!~

I will get back to my regular ways of posting very soon! With that, on with the fanfiction!

Some things may be different,but the plot is mostly the same and the ending is mostly the same!

Also I apologize if any of the characters seem out of character! ❤️❤️❤️

———————————————————————

 It was cold, very cold. I didn’t expect Egypt to get so cold this quickly. I was with Jotaro Kujo and his group of friends, I could call them that. They called themselves the Stardust Crusaders, and from what I know, they were searching for a man named DIO. That’s all they told me at least, and I could barely remember how  I ended up with the group anyways. Mr. Joseph told me they found me wandering the desert by myself. I found that hard to believe because I hated the heat of the desert, but I just went along with it and decided to stay with them.

Jotaro and Kakyoin were the only ones I stayed closed to really, with all of us being around the same age, and with I apparently attending the same high school as them. They helped me understand the situation that was going on and the reason why we were in Egypt. I felt bad for Jotaro, his mom is in bad condition, and he had to drop everything and go on some wild ass adventure in order to save her. I tried to be as much help as I could be, I do have a stand, that I know, but I don’t know how to use it at all.

But all that out the way. Stand user after Stand user. Attack after Attack, we finally reached Cairo, Egypt. I cheered happily as I ran up to the hotel that we were going to be staying in. Mr. Joseph chuckled as he went up to the desk and prepared the rooms for us, Leaving the rest of use to chat and talk. I yawned and leaned on Jotaro, who was pretending to be annoyed, “Yare yare, What the hell are you doing?” He asked, gaze shifting down on me. I smiled at him and let out a small giggle, “Im resting on you until we can get our rooms straight, I don’t see how you guys can do it!” I say throwing my hands up, being playfully dramatic. Polnareff laughed and I knew even before he began talking what he was going to say.

“ Well Dearie, Maybe it’s because you’re a girl~ This mission is built for strong men! It’s our job to protect you anyway!” He said, flexing slight only to get hit on the back of the head by Jotaro. “She’s strong, why do you think we brought her along, She can handle herself. Last time I checked you cant defeat anyone without our help” He said back, a smirk appearing on his features as he watched Polnareff try to gather his comeback. But before he could get it out, Mr. Joseph came over giving everyone their room keys.

Joseph was with Avdol, Polnareff with Kakyoin, and……

Me and Jotaro.

A part of me wanted to speak up and say: ‘CAN I CHANGE PLEASE?!’ Because being in the same room with Jotaro for a long period of time like this. I don’t think I could take it. But alas, I didn’t same a damn thing and here I was, walking to the room with Jotaro beside me. It was a quiet peaceful walk, Jotaro was a quiet person I discovered. He didn’t talk much and when he did, it usually was a one-liner, his signature catchphrase or snark. I loved the silence to be honest, I think it added more to his personality, I thought it was sweet that he is out here risking his life for his mother, even though he doesn’t know what lay ahead.

When we reached the room, I unlocked the door and pushed it open, the room was nice, it was room, had a couch with a television in front of it, a small kitchen and dining area. But there was one problem that stuck out the most.

There was only one bed.

I felt a blush rise up on my cheeks but I tried to be calm about it, but it seemed that Jotaro could read my emotions. “I’ll take the couch, “ He muttered walking past me. I grabbed his coat stopping him and shyly looked up at him. “hey, we can share the bed, I don’t mind. I usually stay on one side curled up in a ball” I said trying to make light of the tense environment, He  let out a small grunt which I could only imagine was an “Ok’. I smiled as I went over to unpacking my small book bag, I only had a small amount of clothes with me. From what I remember, I packed two changes of clothes and night clothes along with the necessities. But everytime I try to remember where I came from, it leads to a massive headache. One that’s trying to basically tell me that the memory isn’t there.

It bothered me, and while I was changing into my night clothes I tried very hard to think and think trying to see if I could bring it back. I let out a frustrated yell as finished getting dressed and I walked out, but as I walked back into the bedroom, I got a surging pain in the back of my head, plopped down on the bed and it felt like someone else had a control on my body, and a voice that I have never heard before starting talking.

“It seems that my little devil is missing me…don’t worry, I’ll be waiting for you, you’ll remember me soon, you will…”

I let out a scream, one made of confusion and fear, as I couldn’t move my body, I felt like someone was just sitting on me, all of their weight pushing down upon me. I must’ve spooked Jotaro because he came rushing in the room and shook me, I could feel him shaking me, but I couldn’t move. Finally I found the strength to rise up and shake make head. When I opened my eyes up again I was staring into Jotaro’s baby blue eyes. He didn’t even said anything, he just hugged me and held me tightly. He lifted me up and placed me in bed correctly, I tried to move and show him that I was alright. But he held me in place, he wouldn’t let go. “Jotaro I am fine, that was just a little scare okay? Nothing too serious” I said, he shook his head and his grip on me tightened. “Quiet. Don’t say anything , just go to sleep.” He muttered. It was severely out of character for Jotaro to act like this, but I guess I really scared him with what happened. I felt horrible and I wanted to say that I was sorry for letting myself get like that but sleep took over me before I even could.

(TimeSkip. two days later)

We were up and on the move again.

Neither Jotaro or I talked about what took place that night , but I noticed he was closer to me more then he ever was before. He kept a close eye on me, which earned light teasing from Polnareff and Joseph. He brushed it off but I could see the blush that was coming up onto his face. He said his signature catch phrase before walking ahead from the group. I knew better though, and I tried not to let the teasing get to me as we pushed forward.

I felt ominous feelings coming from the large building in front of us.

And it seemed like another one of those moments like I had last time except that instead of me just not being able to move, I completely blacked out. It was dark, I could see Jotaro and the others anymore, but I could feel someone’s arms picking me up from the ground. I tried to scream but nothing came out, only a chuckle, a deep chuckle that couldn’t have come from any of the crusaders. I froze, it was the same tone of the voice I had previously heard. His footsteps were heavy, and his voice had a velvet like tone, “Fyre…I’ve been waiting for you…those Joestars brought you right to me…Like a little present~” He spoke. His voice was so familiar, Like even before my little black out.

All I know that I am scared.

My vision slowly started coming back, I could see that I was no longer with Jotaro and the group but i was with some weird man with blonde hair. When he realized I was awake he smirked wide, showing me a wide toothy like grin. “My darling is awaken now~ tell me, how did you enjoy your time away from me darling?~” He says placing me down in what felt a a plush like bed. It felt soft, I’m not gonna lie, it was really soft, I regained motion in my limbs and I made myself sit up so quickly. I glared at him, if looks could kill, he would’ve been dead.

He chuckled, turning fully to get a good look at him. He was about as tall as Jotaro, he was shirtless and very built, having a strange scar around his neck that made it look like his body was just attached with a needle and thread. I backed up as far as I could to the wall. He walked (more like sassy step) towards me before stopping at the end of the bed. “Don’t you remember me? Fyre, I made you what you are. My little Devil. That stand you have, it’s because of me. You are mine. I don’t care what that Jotaro fool says or does for you.” He growled. “Liar!! Jotaro found me! He took care of me! I don’t know who you are!!” I yelled back, but with brute force, I was held against the wall by a humanoid looking figure, he was a bright yellow and had muscles of steel. I struggled against him before sighing but not giving up totally.

The male must’ve saw and laughed. “Foolish. Foolish Fyre...Don’t you remember, How do you think you got out there in the first place~” he said getting close to my face. Now staring me down with those bright, crazed green eyes. For some reason, a memory that was laying deep in my mind came barreling back full force.

(Flashback Start)

“Where are you going!? You can’t get far, Little Devil!!”

His voice was taunting, he was taunting me, he knew that he could catch up to me if he wanted to. DIO was a damn bastard, a horrible excuse for a living- no an monstrous being. I kept running, refusing to fall prey for this damn man ever again, he kept me just a trophy, no one ever coming to visit me except him. The look on his servants faces when they say me run past shows that he never let anyone know that I existed.

I kicked open the door with one swift move and kept it moving, the desert sand kicking up behind me. I could feel his gaze on me, the thing he had on my forehead was weakening. His powers on me were not working, he made a mistake of stabbing me with the Stand Arrow, my stand was powerful an it allowed me to go against his will.

I ran and ran and ran until I felt my body slowing down, I couldn’t see anything and I collapsed, panting heavily as my body finally gave out, the adrenaline gone. I turned on my back and laid there looking at the sky as I closed my eyes. My breath slowing down and my conscious slowly slipping away.

“Oi, Is that a girl on the ground?...”

“Yea, I think you’re right Jotaro! What shall we do?”

“....Gigi..she’s coming with us.”

(Flashback End)

I tried to head butt him once my memory started coming back. I knew who he was. I knew what he did to me. He took me away from my family, kept me captive for god knows how long. DIO, His name now ringing a bell in my head. I growled and glared daggers at him. “Fuck you!! Fuck you bastard! You caused this! You made me like this you fucking bastard!!” I yelled kicking and thrashing about, He just stood there laughing at me, that same fucking taunting laugh that he used before. He snapped his fingers, and the ghost (stand that I now remember as ‘The World’) disappeared making me drop to the floor. When I went to stand up he pushed me back into the wall, his hand wrapped firmly around my neck.

“Listen here Little Devil. I don’t like the way that you are acting right now...You either shape up or else I’ll have to punish you severely for disobeying me.” He practically growled. I clawed at his hands gripping and trying to pull his hands away as I began to get light headed from his grip. “Fuck..you..” I muttered out, only making his grip tighter making him madder. A loud bang and a rush of footsteps made him release his grip.

“Lord DIO!! The Joestars have reached here! They’re currently fighting Vanilla Ice!”

He groaned, clearly annoyed but I saw it as an opportunity to run.

And so I did.

I took off out of the room, speeding past the servant. This speed was inhuman to me, I didn’t know where I came from but I just chalked it up to my adrenaline rushing as i was scared. I could hear his yelling but couldn’t make out the words that he said. Everything was a blur to me until I came to a skidding halt when I saw what I could only make out to see as Jotaro.

“JOTARO!” I yelled. ‘God I hope I don’t sound too desperate..’ I thought as I ran over to him, out of breath and scared. He look up and then rushed over to my side, he checked my forehead and checked all over my head before finally hugging me tightly. He let go and pulled his hat over his eyes letting out his signature catchphrase. “Yare Yare, We’ll talk later. We have to go and find-“ “DIO! He’s here! He’s the one who took me!” I blurted out. He looked at me then pulled me along, and off we went again. I was scared beyond belief, I can’t believe that this want the man, or well, thing, Jotaro and his Grandfather had been searching for all along, and he knew me!

Little did I know the carnage along the way that happened. While we were chasing after DIO, Polnareff ran into the them. And we lost two members of our group, Muhammad Avdol and a little French bull terrier named Iggy to one of DIO’s toadys. We didn’t have time to grieve, we didn’t have time to cry or anything. We had to keep moving on! I kept quiet as DIO’s words kept ringing in my ears.

“I made you. My little Devil, Don’t you remember?”

I shook my head as we entered the city. It was busy, as it was night time. Probably filled with tourists and natives alike, all of them unknowingly putting themselves in danger. It was now Joseph, Jotaro, Polnareff and I together. Kakyoin was no where to be found, and they didn’t tell me what happened to him. But I didn’t ask questions at all, I just kept my mouth shut and moved along, but DIO was eating away at my thoughts, I wanted to question him, but was afraid of what he might do to me if I did.

But my time to confront him came quicker than ever as now Jotaro, Joseph and DIO we’re locked in a heated battle. This was it, Jotaros mom (Who I figured out before, was named Holly!) layed on the line along with the entire worlds fate was on their back. I stood on the side with Polnareff watching the battle take place, I felt helpless though. I wanted to help, after all, I have been a liability during this entire thing! I at least needed to get out and do something. I got up and began walking over to where they were only to get a bad feeling going up my spine. I looked over at DIO just to see his stand come out. I quickly picked up my past before yelling to him.

“JOTARO LOOK OUT!!”

“Za WARUDO”

Everything froze around me, everything was still. I don’t know how I was moving, and it seemed DIO was just as confused but he was too focused on Jotaro. Knives now heading towards and lodging themselves into said male. While time was still frozen he looked at me and it seemed that I was a look of surprised. I was confused before I felt something, or rather someone behind me. I turned and there it was, or rather their she was, as it looked like a female. She had curly horns that could rival with Satan himself, large bat like wings with a shiny gleam coming off them, a short black dress with her entire back out along with small bats on her tights that looked like they were very much alive. She had light pink skin with red blush in certain spots, full pink lips , top and bottom fangs that could probably cut through diamond if she wanted to. she had bright lime green snake like eyes, long curly lilac purple hair that falls behind her knees hair. Finally there was a large tail swishing back and forth with a heart on the end, spikes lining the tail leading all the way up to her back.

I stood up as time started over again, Jotaro fell back , knives all over him. I wanted to scream but I knew that would show weakness, and especially to him, it would give him a huge ego booster. I watched as Jotaro laid motionless on the ground, DIO places his head on the ground trying to hear movement or heart beats of any kind and smirked once he didn’t. He began laughing as he made his way over to me, “Your darling hero isn’t with you anymore. And I’m so glad, his death made you finally show your stand. Might I say, it’s quiet beautiful perfect for a queen like yourself.” He said, now barely a foot away from me. I smirked myself, a thing I don’t normally do. “The Queen part you’re right about. But I wouldn’t celebrate to quickly.” I said. Landing a quick blow to his head myself, making him stumble back. He growled at me but kept a smug smirk on his face. “My little Devil..You think you can stop me! Your puny Stand means nothing to me!”

“But mines does.” I smiled as Jotaro was behind him now. Star Platinum now behind him as well looking madder than ever. I stepped back quickly to avoid the fist fight between the two stand users. I had to admit, it looked beautiful, the colors clashing together, the raw strength of both of their stands clashing and fighting each other. It was amazing. I crouched down using my stand to make a shield for myself to dodge oncoming debris coming my way, I closed my eyes because another part of me didn’t want to see the end result. It was painful, very painful, I didn’t want to see anymore of my friends get hurt anymore, I panted slightly, my vision getting blurry, I don’t know if it’s a side effect from my stand or I’m just tired. I felt my body falling to the ground after hearing a blood curdling scream and the sound of something splitting apart, before everything fades to black.

⬛️TimeSkip⬛️

I shot straight up only to see myself connected to hospital IV’s and looked around. I looked at my arms and touched my face to make sure I was in one piece. I sighed once I figured out I was all fine and sat back on the bed. The door open and first came in was a Nurse coming to make sure I was okay, checking all my vitals, blood pressure , all the medical stuff, then following was Mr. Joestar. “Hey! Look who’s arose from the dead! I’m glad you’re okay!” He said walking up to my bed side, a hand on my arm. “Did we win? Is he dead?” Is what I asked first.

He nodded slightly and stood up. “Yep! We sure did...We’re gonna be heading back to Japan once you get all better, Trust me, My grandson has been worried sick about you, you gotta stop passing out on us!” He said jokingly. I tilted my head in confused. Jotaro was worried about me? I found that hard to believe, but when the male came into my room with a large bouquet of flowers, I believed it then.

He handed them over to me with a blush gracing his features. They were beautiful shades of blue with some red in it. “this is for you..” He muttered, I grabbed and smiled softly, pulling him close and placing a kiss on his cheek. I smelled the flowers and hugged them close to my chest.

“Hey Jotaro, When we get back..Can we hang out more?..”

“...Sure, I wouldn’t mind that at all..”

———————————————————————

AHHHH I APOLOGIZE FOR BEING SO DAMN LATE OMG

So many things have been coming up in my life between family, Boyfriend issues, health issues, but I wanted to finish this because I loved the character, thank you so much for the opportunity!

If you want more and probs another part going on to part 4 because I loved so this much! ❤️

[tearbos]

UPLIFTED

I originally posted this on my LJ back in 2011. I corrected a few editorial issues but refrained from making any major changes. :) This was written as a humorous fic that ended up becoming more angsty, but it still shouldn’t be taken too seriously.

This was written for Criminal Minds Kink Meme IV prompt: Reid is captured by an unsub (it's a cliche for a reason) who uses his victims for experiments. When the team finds him they expect the worst, but Reid seems relatively unharmed except for the fact that he now has wings.

Spoilers/Warnings: None, really.

The screech of tires rubbing against slick asphalt filled the early morning air as the large, black SUVs jerked to a sudden stop. The calm silence was broken by thundering footsteps as four agents hurriedly unloaded from the vehicle and converged on the small office building followed closely by a SWAT team and half a dozen DC police officers. Once the perimeter was surrounded, the team members quietly entered the front door and efficiently cleared the lobby area. SWAT and several officers came in as spread out to finish securing the rest of the building. The air was stale and dust covered every surface; the decor of the entryway was easily a decade old and gave no indication of the brilliant yet completely delusional scientist being searched for inside. The FBI agents began following the officers down a dingy, dimly lit hallway when a loud commotion echoed from the end of the corridor. They ran ahead to fine SWAT team members dragging a disheveled, protesting Dr. Brians from a small office.

“Wait,” he screamed angrily, “I’m almost finished! I just need to see if they work properly. That is the final step. Please!”

Hotch stormed over to the distraught scientist and demanded, “Where is he?”

The doctor looked up mournfully and pleaded, “Please?”

“Where?” Hotch insisted.

“In the lab,” Dr. Brians muttered bitterly.

The team members wasted no time, leaving the handling of their former Unsub to the police. As the hallway behind them had been cleared, and Dr. Brians was found in the only office to the left, the agents began checking all of the doors to their right. They found only empty rooms until they reached the last door. It was firmly locked and secured with an alarm, but a few blows with the SWAT team’s battering ram easily remedied that problem.

The space was pitch black, which made their flashlight beams reflect off of glass jars and metal tables around the room. No light sources were turned on in the front, so the team cautiously spread out as they slowly moved forward. The air was thick with tension and the quiet sounds of moving bodies. A switch was finally found near the back, and the florescent lighting crackled to life. The agents took in their surroundings in disgust. The room was a macabre cross between an Unsub’s trophy room and a horror movie mad scientist’s lab. Along the left wall were glass jars filled with ‘experiments’-both animal and human it seemed- in various stages of whatever processes to which they were subjected. The middle of the room held autopsy tables modified with leather restraints and smeared with dried substances. The right side was lined with shelves stuffed with books and a large desk piled high with lab reports, blueprints, and numerous other papers. There was no sign of the object of their search, though, until someone noticed that the back of the room was still dark behind large glass windows and a solid steel door. Applying force to the door and shining light into the glass both had no success. However, it took the considerable intimidation abilities of Hotch, Rossi, and Morgan less than three minutes to pry the security code from Dr. Brians.

Once the door was finally open and the room lit, the team stared in horror at the sight in front of them. Their missing team member was perched facing them on a pedestal about a foot above the ground. He was unconscious and supported under the arms by leather straps suspended from the ceiling. His head hung forward and his messy hair covered his face. A concerning amount of blood had formed a puddle around his feet and next to the pedestal. The blood appeared to have originated from his upper back or shoulders and flowed downward from there. After several moments of shock, the team jumped into action. Emily began searching the rooms for controls or keys to the straps and Rossi and Morgan grabbed Reid to hold him upright so Hotch could check Reid’s vitals.

“I have a strong pulse,” Hotch announced, and each agent let out a sigh of relief. While Rossi and Morgan worked on unlocking the straps with the keys Emily located across the room, Hotch moved around to check Reid’s injuries. What he found was something he never would have imagined-ever.

“What the Hell!”

His exclamation caught the attention of the others who shifted closer to see what had Hotch so surprised. They all had a similar reaction when they saw Reid’s back. Attached to his shoulder blades was a pair of feathered wings-actual, full-sized wings with real feathers that were cream with intricate detailing. They were folded up to lie flat against his back, but appeared to be nearly three feet in length and about a foot wide, not necessarily large but certainly not natural. A cursory examination didn’t reveal how they were connected to Reid, but the skin around the area was inflamed red and had obviously bled at some point. Silence filled the room until Emily finally spoke up.

“Are…these what Dr. Brians wanted to see working? He said something about a project…”

“It’s probably safe to assume this is what he meant,” Rossi replied.

“What the hell should we do now,” Morgan asked?

“Let’s get him down and to a hospital for starters, then we can figure out what to do from there,” Hotch decided. “Prentiss, let the paramedics know the situation and make sure they know to take him to the base hospital. We have a better chance of discretion there.”

“On it,” she stated as she pulled out her radio to inform the medics of the issues. With a combined effort the remaining agents managed to get Reid down from his stand and lying face down on the floor with his face propped against Morgan’s legs. They all studied the wings silently until help arrived.

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

Gathered anxiously in Reid’s hospital room, the team members crowded around the x-ray images displayed on the lighted board while Dr. Alison described what they were seeing. The base structure of the wings was steel, and Dr. Brians had fused and wielded the metal to bones and reconfigured tendons until it was almost a part of Reid’s skeletal system. He had even tediously connected the nerves, and by all appearances the wings should be fully functional. It was painstaking work, and quite the scientific achievement, yet the whole idea was sick and horrifying. Perhaps the ‘test subject’ being an unwilling member of their team skewed the perspective somewhat.

After consultations with orthopedists, physical therapists, and a plastic surgeon, Dr. Alison confidently reassure the team that the wings could be removed with little or no permanent damage to Reid’s original arms and shoulders. The surgery, however, would have to wait a minimum of two weeks so that the current incisions and additions to Reid’s body could heal properly before undergoing further trauma. Reid would remain under careful observation during that time so that the doctor could monitor for infections or complications. The agents knew Reid would be unhappy with the delay and amount of time in the hospital, but the risk of serious injury was too great to avoid it. They would just have to do their best to support him until the time for the ‘wingectomy’ –as it was jokingly referred to.

Other than the obvious changes, Reid managed to escape his captivity without any major harm being done to his person. During the five days Reid was in his care, Dr. Brians had fed him and allowed him to rest when lapses in the experiment came around. The details were diligently logged in records in the lab, which was fortunate as Reid wasn’t awake to tell them and Dr. Brians was too busy mourning the loss of his project to cooperate. Neither the logs nor the physical exam by Dr. Alison revealed any further experimentation, and the team was relieved that Reid had only one serious physical issue to cope with. Only time would tell if he suffered any psychological distress from the ordeal, and Dr. Brians’ notes made no mention of Reid’s mental state during the process. The team members collectively decided to prepare for the worst possible scenario just in case.

Nearly ten hours later as the BAU team-now including Garcia and JJ- began to grow restless, Reid finally stirred. It took a few minutes of furious blinking and quiet groaning for him to become conscious, and another moment of panic before his full awareness returned. Reid smiled weakly at the sight of all of his team gathered around him with varying looks of concern.

“Hi guys,” he croaked out. “I guess I’m now officially a freak.” He spoke teasingly but the others hurried to reassure him and inform him that things could be repaired. Then, Emily posed the question that was on everyone’s mind, “Do they actually work, Reid?”

He gave a rueful grin and replied, “I don’t know yet. They hurt too much to try them before.”

“They don’t hurt now, do they,” Garcia asked worriedly?

“Not at the moment, but I imagine that one of these IVs contains some form of pain managing substance.”

“Yes, NSAIDs only,” Hotch responded.

“Good. Thanks.” Reid looked thoughtful for a moment. He held out a hand to Morgan. “Help me sit up.”

“What? Why?” Morgan took the offered hand but made no move to comply with Reid’s request.

“No time like the thoroughly medicated present to find out the answer. At least I’m already in the hospital if something goes wrong.

“I don’t think that’s…” Hotch began, but Rossi interrupted him.

“I’ll get Dr. Alison. He can supervise.” After Rossi left, Morgan carefully pulled Reid into a sitting position and JJ promptly arranged pillows to support him.

“Can you move your arms ok?” Emily inquired.

Reid tested both limbs successfully. “Interesting. They don’t move with my arms automatically. I must have to control them consciously,” Reid mused.

“I wonder why he wanted to do this at all,” Morgan stated.

“Well, an interest in flight is almost an intrinsic part of human nature. Studies dating as far back as the early…”

Reid’s mini-lecture was cut off by the arrival of Dr. Alison and Rossi. “Dr. Reid, it’s nice to meet you officially. I’m Dr. Alison and I’m in charge of your case.” He extended his hand and Reid shook it easily- one preliminary test passed.

“Nice to meet you too doctor. Are you a specialist in the surgical removal of unusual object from the body?”

“I guess you could put it that way,” Dr. Alison replied with a grin. “I must say that this will be my most unusual case to date.”

“I should hope so,” Morgan muttered to the amusement of the others.

“Do you feel up to doing a simple assessment or two?”

“Sure,” Reid answered. “What do you need me to do?”

“Well, I see that you can move your arms independently of the wings, so let’s test your range of motion.” Reid easily followed the instructions until Dr. Alison was satisfied. Finally he requested, “If you can, Dr. Reid, I want you to try to move the wings. However, you can only do so if there isn’t a lot of pain. I don’t want you to be injured any further.”

Reid focused his efforts on obeying the doctor’s orders. Slowly, the wings unfolded to their full extent. The rounded tops came just past Reid’s shoulders while the pointed tips hung over the edges of the bed. No one spoke as they took in what they were witnessing.

Dr. Alison broke the silence after a long pause. “Dr. Reid, would you mind if took a few pictures to include in your medical records and to give to the plastic surgeon?”

Reid shrugged, the wings lifting slightly as he did so. “As long as they don’t end up on the internet or the local news.”

“No worries there,” Dr. Alison reassured with a chuckle. He removed a digital camera from his lab coat and took a few panoramic shots before moving closer to photograph the areas around the incisions. After the photos he had Reid repeat the test while he palpated the areas around the shoulders and upper back, noting the way the movements affected the wings. “Fascinating,” he murmured under his breath when he felt how seamlessly both sets of appendages were connected. “This really is mind blowing work.”

“Why me though? Why do I attract the crazies,” Reid bemoaned?

The others laughed and Morgan ruffled his hair. “I don’t know Pretty Boy; maybe you give off a scent or something, some strange brand of Crazy Juice.”

“Ew,” JJ, Emily and Reid all exclaimed simultaneously.

“This is kind of amazing,” Garcia chimed in.

“Why is that, Baby Girl?”

“Because I’ve called Reid ‘Boy Wonder’ for years and now he really does have a super power!”

The room exploded with laughter while Reid crossed his arms and pouted.

“What’s the matter, Spence,” JJ asked once she regained her breath?

“I doubt that I could actually fly with them.” He seemed disappointed at the thought.

“Why not,” Rossi asked?

“They’re kind of small,” he replied. “I’m not sure they could lift my body weight.”

“Well, you don’t really weigh a whole lot Reid,” Emily retorted.

“I’m heavier than I look,” Reid stated indignantly. “Besides, it’s relative to the amount of weight they can support. They don’t seem very strong.”

“I don’t know, Reid. They are solid steel, and Dr. Brians was very detailed and exacting with his plans. I’d imagine he took your height and weight into account when he designed them….What?” Hotch asked when he realized the others were staring at him.

“Sir, your inner geek is showing,” Garcia told him. Hotch smiled at that while the rest nearly collapsed in amusement.

“I do have my moments,” Hotch replied, causing the merriment to continue.

Once things calmed down again, Dr. Alison briefly explained the plans for the next few weeks to Reid before excusing himself. Reid, surprisingly, didn’t protest his hospital stay; instead he seemed relieved to deal with this situation in the closed environment rather than in the real world. The team discussed visitation and work schedules for the next weeks while Hotch called in three weeks (minimum) medical leave for Reid as well as a few days off for the rest of them during and immediately after the surgery. Things were figured out as much as possible when JJ stood and approached the bed.

“Can I touch them Spence,” she asked hesitantly? Reid was startled by the questions but quickly acquiesced. She reached out and gently ran her hand along the edge before fingering the tip. “They’re really soft,” she stated as she continued stroking the downy feathers.

“Do they bother you, Baby Cakes,” Garcia wondered as she joined JJ.

“Bother me how? The fact that they are there bothers me, and remembering how they got there really bothers me,” he answered with a slightly bitter tone.

“Well, I meant bother as in: Are they heavy? Do they itch or annoy you? I can see why you would be bothered in different ways too though Sweetie.”

“Sorry Garcia,” he said softly. “I barely notice them unless they move, and I can’t feel you touching them.”

“Speaking of what happened, Reid, you will need to have a psych eval once you recover from the surgery,” Hotch told him. “I can have Dr. Benson come here to see you if you want to talk to him sooner.”

“Really, Hotch, I’m fine. There’s no need for an eval.”

“Its standard procedure and it isn’t up for discussion. Of course you can talk to any of us if you want to, but I do need a formal record as well.”

“I know,” Reid sighed in defeat.

“Do you want to tell us about it,” Morgan asked?

“What’s to tell? You read Dr. Brians’ notes so you what happened already.”

“That isn’t a complete picture and you know that,” Rossi said. “We don’t know what happened from your perspective. You were missing for five days, Reid; you can’t tell us you aren’t affected by that.”

Reid remained quiet for a few minutes before softly asking, “It was really five days?”

“Yes. Why,” Hotch answered?

“It…didn’t seem like that long, but I was pretty out of it for some of the time.”

“He drugged you,” Emily asked?

“Yeah, I’m not sure with what though- a sedative or paralytic or something. I was awake most of the time but not completely aware. I didn’t have as much pain while he was working as I did when he was done.”

“Did you know what he was doing,” Garcia wondered?

“Yes. He explained his plan in great detail and documented each step in the process.”

“How do you feel about this,” Hotch inquired?

“Conflicted,” he replied slowly. “I’m always interested in scientific advances and experimentation. I participated in several studies during college, but those were all voluntary and I was aware of the risks involved. I’m not happy that this was done without my consent, but the scientist in me is curious about how this ends up.”

“You could always delay the surgery and find out,” Rossi quipped lightly. Reid shot him a LOOK.

“Yeah, sure, that‘s a good idea. I’m weird enough already without adding this to it.”

“You aren’t weird,” JJ retorted at the same time Garcia blurted out, “I think they’re kind of cool.”

“Thanks, JJ, and of course you would say that Garcia,” he responded.

“You know I love you no matter what my gorgeous gray matter,” she said with a smile. Reid returned it with a grin of his own.

Just then, a nurse came in to inform them that visiting hours were finished for the evening. The team told Reid goodbye and promised to visit again in the morning-with coffee as stipulated by Reid.

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

Four days later, Morgan and Hotch helped Reid conceal his new appendages beneath his corduroy jacket as much as possible. Because there was no sign of infection, and Reid was healing so well, Dr. Alison released him to go home until the day of the ‘wingectomy’. By this time Reid was eager to get to his own apartment; hiding out in the hospital got boring very quickly. Once he was clothed the three agents signed Reid out and headed to his place. Reid fully expected to find the rest of his team members waiting for his arrival, but he didn’t anticipate a Fairy-themed welcome home party.

The ladies all had sets of sparkly wings in bright colors, and Rossi even had a set of large, hideously cheap, plastic wings strapped to his back-he didn’t seem to happy about the situation though.

“Welcome Home,” they all shouted as he walked in and Garcia bounced over and tossed a handful of glitter on his head. She kissed him cheerily on both cheeks to leave bright red lip prints behind. Reid couldn’t help but grin at the (weird) thoughtfulness of his friends. Despite their efforts, though, he still felt a little self-conscious as Hotch helped him remove his jacket. He wore his usual button-up shirt strategically modified in the back with a pair of scissors to accommodate his temporary limbs. Feeling a bit stiff, Reid cracked his neck, rolled his shoulders, and stretched his wings out to their full extent. Looking around he saw all the eyes in the room watching him in awe. He smiled nervously at them.

“You’ve all seen them before,” he stated.

“We know, but it takes some getting used to,” Emily replied as she tugged him further into the area. He gaped in surprise as he took in the bright tissue paper and shiny streamers decorating his living room.

“This is what I imagine the inside of a fairy house would look like,” Garcia commented as he slowly spun to take it all in.

“Garcia, I’m not a fairy,” he protested half-halfheartedly, knowing already that arguing with here was a losing battle.

“Well honey bun, I’m not sure you qualify for angel status so this is the next best thing!” She grinned cheekily and winked at him. He couldn’t help but smile in agreement. Meanwhile JJ and Emily fitted Hotch and Morgan with their own sets of plastic wings, and Morgan strutted over to Garcia to show them off.

“What about me, Baby Girl? Do I make angel status?”

“Oh my gorgeous chocolate god, you will always be a heavenly vision in my eyes!”

Morgan smirked and wrapped an arm around her. “That’s good enough for me.”

“How do you feel, Reid,” Rossi asked from the corner?

“Not too bad. They’re feeling kind of stiff right now but they don’t hurt anymore.”

“That’s good. Here, have a drink,” he replied as he indicated the counter between the living room and the kitchen. “There is ‘fairy punch’, whatever that is, or I brought a good scotch if you prefer.”

“Scotch is good…” Reid started, but a large, flashing glass of pink punch with a tasseled straw in it suddenly appeared in front of his face.

“You have to at least try the ‘fairy punch’,” JJ started.

“Plus I need a picture of you holding it,” Garcia added as she held up her camera. Reid groaned but didn’t bother protesting. He obediently posed for the required photos before retreating to the safety of the couch were Rossi and Hotch sat nursing their drinks.

“So, what other festivities are planned for this fairy wonderland party,” Morgan wondered.

“Not much,” Emily answered. “Pizza should be here soon, and we just figured on watching a movie or something.”

“I wanted to watch Peter Pan in honor of the occasion but I was outvoted,” Garcia broke in with a pout.

“Thank goodness,” Hotch murmured, to the amusement of the others.

“I brought board games too,” JJ chimed in, “ones that Spence can’t dominate everybody in.”

“Do those exist,” Morgan mumbled?

“Yes, Morgan, I don’t know everything!”

“I have ‘Loaded Questions’, ‘Pictionary’, and ‘Life’,” JJ interrupted before an argument could begin.

“Let’s play ‘Loaded Questions’,” Reid decided. The others agreed and gathered around the coffee table.

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

Three days later Reid strolled cautiously into the bullpen, unsure if anyone could tell something was different about him. Emily wasn’t at her desk so he headed towards Morgan’s office. A few agents stopped him along the way to welcome him back and wish him well. He took comfort in the fact that none acted as if there was anything unusual in front of them. He knocked lightly on Morgan’s open door and grinned when the agent smiled up at him in surprise.

“Reid! It’s good to see you, my man, but what are you doing here? You barely started your medical leave.”

“I know, but I was getting bored wandering around at home. Besides, I’m not really sick or injured so I can at least do paperwork or something until the surgery.”

Morgan looked thoughtful. “I should tell you to clear it with Hotch first, but I could use a hand. As long as you hang out in here with the door closed you should be fine. I will claim ignorance if Hotch catches you.”

“Deal,” Reid happily agreed. “I will be very sneaky, but you know he will figure out that I helped you once you turn these in.”

“That’s true, but as long as he doesn’t catch you doing them I should be safe.” Morgan handed him a stack of files and cleared a section of desk for him to work on.

Reid worked in Morgan’s office for nearly two hours before he called Emily in the bullpen and recruited her to be his look out while he went to the break room for coffee and a trip to the bathroom. She gladly complied, and Reid brought her and Morgan coffee as a thank you. He would have made it the whole day without getting caught if Emily hadn’t gotten stuck on a phone call around 3:30 and failed to warn Reid of Hotch going to Morgan’s office. Morgan was in with Garcia checking on missing information from a case file and Reid was huddled over his corner of Morgan’s desk engrossed in an autopsy report when Hotch knocked lightly on the partially open door before entering.

“Morgan when you get a chance can you…” he trailed off upon seeing Reid-looking up at him in surprise-rather than the person he expected. “What are you doing here? You are supposed to be on medical leave,” Hotch stated pointedly.

“I, um, just came by to help for awhile. I’m fine, Hotch, really. There’s no reason why I can’t do paperwork.”

Hotch studied him before deciding to just let the issue go. “I don’t want to see or hear of you doing anything strenuous Reid. You know what Dr. Alison said about infection and tissue damage; he wants you to take it easy before the surgery. Paperwork only.” His tone made it clear that no arguments would be accepted.

“Yes, sir,” Reid responded gratefully.

Hotch handed him a thick file. “I was going to have Morgan work on this, but since you are here you can do it instead.”

“No problem.”

Hotch turned to leave, but he paused and said, “You can work at your desk now if you want instead of hiding in here.” He left without waiting for a reply.

Reid finished the day in Morgan’s office despite Hotch’s approval; both of them were glad for the company on an otherwise boring work day, and they didn’t get to spend much time together unless they were on a case now that Morgan had his own office.

Garcia declared it to be ‘Team Dinner Night’ so they all gathered at Reid’s apartment again, this time with Greek take-out. The evening was fun and relaxed as the agents talked and laughed together. Once the food was gone, Reid got everyone’s attention.

“Guys, I’m ready to try an experiment.” The identical looks of concern and confusion amused him greatly. “I’ve done some calculations and I believe that the wings will be able to support my weight for a short flight.”

“Really? That’s so great,” Garcia exclaimed. “I can’t wait to see this!”

“How short is a ‘short flight’,” Rossi inquired?

“Approximately three minutes, could be as much as four or as few as one-and-a-half depending on wind conditions.”

“So, where are we conducting this experiment,” Emily wanted to know?

“I was thinking the roof…”

The room exploded with protests.

“No way man!”

“Not a chance, Reid!”

“You are not jumping off of the roof!”

He held up his hand to regain control of the conversation. “I’m not planning on jumping off the roof,” he insisted, “just jumping around it some.”

“Why the roof Spence,” JJ asked?

“I determined that I could get the most ideal wind and space combination there.”

“Ok, we can do this. I do insist that you will be connected to a repel line first,” Hotch declared.

“Oh. That’s a good idea. I guess we can try this tomorrow then.” His tone was dejected, and both his arms and wings slumped in defeat.

“No, we can do it now. I have a kit in the truck.”

“Why do you have that, Hotch,” Morgan wondered?

“In SWAT you learn to prepare for anything. Some habits are hard to break I suppose,” he replied with a shrug.

“Ok, let’s go then. Aaron, grab the supplies and meet us on the roof.” Rossi took Reid’s arm and pulled him toward the door. The others quickly followed, Garcia pausing to pick up her camera.

An hour later the team trudged back into Reid’s apartment somewhat disheartened. Reid had managed to get a decent amount of lift, but he lacked the control to keep himself airborne for more than 30 seconds or so at a time. They had tried several different maneuvers, but they were all met with limited success.

“If I had a more time to practice…” Reid sighed wearily as he plopped down on his couch. “I’m sure I could figure it out in a couple of days.”

“I bet you could, Boy Wonder, but is it worth the effort of constantly cleaning up things you break or knock over because you aren’t adjusted to the wingspan?” Garcia questioned. She bounced down next to him and stroked his feathers soothingly.

“I don’t know. I’m finally starting to get used to them.”

“You do realize that you can keep them as long as you want to,” Morgan pointed out. “The surgery can be rescheduled.”

“That’s true, but the longer I put it off the long it takes to get my life back to normal. I will have to be laid up for at least a week regardless; postponing the surgery won’t avoid the downtime.”

“Reid, sweetie…” Garcia began carefully, “do…you actually want to have them removed?” Reid, along with the others, looked at her in total shock. “We all just assumed that you’d want them gone ASAP, and you thought the same thing at first. Now that you’ve had time to adjust and think, you could have changed your mind and that’s perfectly ok.”

“I can’t keep them! How will I work or…or do anything? I just…it wouldn’t be logical,” Reid said decidedly.

“There are always was to work around things, Reid. You were at the office all day today with no problem.” Hotch sat on the coffee table facing him and looked Reid in the eyes. “It is ok if you want to keep them-for a few days or indefinitely. The choice is yours and you shouldn’t be pressured into making it. At least consider your options; you won’t ever get this opportunity again.”

Reid swallowed forcefully and met Hotch’s gaze. “Thanks. I think I’ve already decided, but I will think about it a little more. I am learning to work around them and, scientifically, they are fascinating. I’ve continued to keep Dr. Brians’ logs just to have records. This really is the study of a lifetime and I’d hate to leave it unfinished.”

“Plus, plus, I still think they’re kind of sexy, and you have to take at least one shirtless pic with them for me before you get them removed,” Garcia enthused. Reid flushed bright red but nodded his consent to her demands.

“That would be pretty cool,” he admitted begrudgingly.

“Oh! I could play with lighting and color tones and even some costuming!”

“Let’s not get carried away, PG,” Emily warned.

“So it’s settled, then,” Rossi declared. “Reid will do some thinking tomorrow while Penelope does the photo shoot. That should help with the decision-making process!”

“I’ll say,” Reid groaned while the others laughed at his predicament.

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

The following evening, the team members convened in the conference room to view Garcia’s picture presentation and to hear Reid’s decision. Everyone was thoroughly impressed with her work featuring black and white, sepia tone, and different backgrounds and props. She’d somehow even managed to convince Reid to accessorize for a few- in one he had a sparkly boa, in another, Mardi Gras beads, and in others various hats and scarves. He had, however, steadfastly refused the plastic halo Garcia somehow obtained-much to her disappointment.

Finally, Rossi asked the question on everyone’s mind, “So Reid, what’s the verdict? Are we spending next week camping out in a waiting room or giving flying lessons?”

Reid smiled and looked around at each person. “I called Dr. Alison and discussed the options with him. He didn’t see any harm that could come from postponing, so we rescheduled for one month with the option to make it sooner if I decide I want to do that. As a scientist, I just can’t imagine not seeing this through.”

His statement was met with approval all around the table.

“I’m glad you decided that, Reid,” Emily stated as she dug through the papers in front of her.

“Why is that?”

“Because I’ve been working on some diagrams to get you better air time.”

[make-it-mavis]

Racing Thoughts

Wreck it Ralph fic 4549 words Characters: Turbo, Make-it Mavis Content warnings: themes of trauma and loss

Premise: After the Roadblasters incident, after finally reuniting with Mavis while the rest of the world still believes he is dead, Turbo takes refuge (with the help of his friend) in an unused wall socket. Nights spent there can be hard to bear, fraught with painful memories and a terrible sickness. This is one of those nights.

---------

It was around 2 AM.

At least, that was his best guess. In his new refuge, time was a slippery concept. There were only a few indicators to go off of. From his abandoned, desolate wall socket, he could hear Litwak arrive on the scene to set everything up for the day and sneak in some gaming time of his own. That was 9 AM. At 10 AM, there would be a loud click as the arcade doors were unlocked, and steadily, gamers would filter in. Their feet would stomp by. Their happy, muffled voices would overlap. Game cabinets would rattle and click with their enthusiastic playing. And at 9 PM, it would be over. The last gamer would leave, and Litwak would turn off the lights and lock the doors on his way out. Through the open hole in the socket where a train and a tunnel should have been, the blessed midsummer sunlight that shone through all day would fade completely.

Night would fall, and his sense of time would be left to fend for itself… but on restless nights such as this, it would stand no chance at all.

In the far corner of the barren train platform he was forced to call home, he sat up, wide awake, despite the sting in his eyes. He preferred to sleep in the corner, out of reach of the arcade’s light, but still, he watched the soft, multicolor glow from the outside games just barely illuminate the messy notes that decorated the walls and the “organized chaos” of random junk that littered the floor. It was calming in its own right. But it was not enough. None of it was enough. The wall socket was bigger than his old trailer, probably twenty times over, but the walls still felt too close. It was no home. It was an urn filled with the ashes of the life he burned to the ground.

There was only one thing that, by some miracle, survived the fire. Before everything went to shit, he might have called her his best friend. But even after the nightmare he had left behind for her to face alone, after he had let her believe he was dead, after he had broken her heart just to show up months later, pathetic, alone, defeated, half-deleted, desperate for help, desperate for company, her company... she did not turn him away. Despite everything she went through because of him, she followed him into the dark. She was willingly risking her safety and freedom just to help a guy who did nothing to deserve it.

Hell, without her… the ‘Roadblasters incident’ would have actually killed him.

Given all that, ‘best friend’ almost seemed a disservice. He was not sure there was any word appropriate to label someone who would do all that for him. As far as he could figure, ‘partner’ seemed like the best he could do, meaning partner in literal crime, partner to face life alongside, and… maybe one other thing.

Whatever she was, she was by his side even then, sleeping on the floor next to him.    

He let his gaze fall to her. She was facing him, her chestnut hair thrown carelessly over her face and the pillows. Mavis’ experience with near-homelessness lent her the skills to make what he found to be a surprisingly cozy bed, a mess of pillows and blankets not too dissimilar from the one he remembered her living in before. In this nest, she was curled up way too tight, and she was twitching every now and then, but that was just typical of her. Seeing her like that, and feeling how nice and warm his crossed legs were under the covers, he had half a mind to just slide right back down and rejoin her. He wished so badly that he could just shut his brain off and go back to sleep, but he knew it seldom worked that way.

Lonely, bored, unable to keep his hands to himself, he lightly scratched his thumb on the tip of her nose. Huffing, crinkling her nose, her hand automatically darted up to swipe the bother away. When he did it a second time, she grunted in very real hostility for someone unconscious, and rolled to face away from him. He exhaled a bit, a faint, tired smile growing on his face, until something past her caught his eye.

Her clothes were piled up unceremoniously next to the bed, and on top of them were items she hardly let out of her sight: A scrap of a red scarf, and racing goggles. Both burned and blackened. Both his.

There was a low burn in his stomach at the sudden memory of the first time he saw those around her neck, and all the weight that her decision to wear them carried. Alone in the dark, he could not seem to take his eyes off them. Against his better judgment, he carefully reached over the sleeping Mavis to grab the goggles.

He leaned over his lap and held them carefully. Their weight in his hands was pleasant, their shape unmistakable. Even if he had not worn them all that often, the distant memory of them was a nice one… but their appearance was haunting, telling a story of awful things. The leather trim, once neat and smooth, was dark and blistered with chunks burned away. He stroked his thumb over the lenses and felt the cracks that ran over the surface like spiderwebs. No black smudge rubbed off on his skin. The glass was not dirty, it was charred for good. No one would be seeing through those goggles ever again. Not even him.

His heart began to ache. He imagined going back and doing his life over again, and making the decision to wear those goggles more. He imagined turning back time and reliving all the things he missed, all the memories that kept him awake. He missed walking freely through Game Central Station. He missed being seen by other sprites, and seeing them too. Greetings, nods, passing conversation, joking, insults, shouting, even annoying, cheery small talk. Bar patrons singing along to Mavis’ performance in Tapper’s. The smell of Burger Time fries. The low, bumping beats that rumbled the dance floor in Qix. The sound of a flowing river in Frogger. The howling wind in Ghosts ‘n Goblins. Even just the hustle and bustle of crowds traveling between games. He missed it all. He missed living in the world, rather than beneath it or on the edge of it. He detested living out of sight and out of mind, hiding from the consequences for what he had done.

Mavis’ stirring caught his attention. Her foot kicked out a bit, and she whimpered quietly, clearly in distress. She was having a nightmare. The poor gal never was a sound sleeper. Having slept next to her quite consistently for several years, he was very well acquainted with her sleeping problems. He thought about how to proceed -- he could have woken her up, and then he would not have been alone… but she needed her sleep, having worked hard for him all day. Sometimes, scooting in close and holding her tight helped, but she could be highly reactive in her nightmare state. He thought about how many times he had been kicked in the shin or elbowed in the face in his attempts to help, back when they slept in his cramped car bed.

Car bed. Trailer. Race track. Home.

His mind fell straight down the rabbit hole. For his own sanity, he tried his best not to think about his old game too much. It just hurt too much, in ways he never would have expected. Even all the little things just piled so heavily onto his shoulders. He had his own fridge, once, full of root beer and pizza. He had a proper place to put his clothes. He had a couch that was actually comfortable and perfect for making out on. He had glistening, lovingly polished trophies on racks. He had real belongings. And that was just his little trailer.

His game had sunshine. Endless sunshine that he could actually run around in, rather than the few meager rays he could catch in the wall socket. His game had his garage, where he could work on his car -- but he quickly turned his thoughts away from that. There were showers in his game, real showers, along with all his makeup and hair products. It would have been easy enough to ask Mavis to steal him some, but… bringing it up would have felt weird. It went far beyond just the desire to feel clean and presentable by his own standards. What really got to him was that whenever he somehow saw his own natural face, bare as the day the Devs made it… he just looked so much like his brothers.

Brothers.

Dropping the goggles into his lap, he brought up his hands to rub miserably over his eyes. His brothers. ‘The Twins’. Nitro and Pyro. Memories of them haunted him more than he would have believed possible. The three of them did not exactly get along. They fought constantly. They did not actively try to spend time with each other. But, still… not everything was bad. They could talk cars together. Sometimes they gossiped about this or that. Sometimes they roughhoused. Sometimes they even played drinking games and laughed over stupid dares. They were annoying, smelly, overgrown stick insects… but they were his brothers. He actually had family.

And thanks to him, thanks to his one stupid, monumental screw up, they were both dead. Litwak unplugged his game and they went down with the ship.

He would never see them again. Never drive with them again. Never hear their cars revving up next to his, or hear their tires squeal, or smell that burning rubber. He would never feel the steering wheel of his car in his hands. Would never feel the weight of speed pinning him back against the seat. Feel the swing of momentum as he made a sharp turn. The rush of crossing the finish line. The satisfaction of winning. Doing what he was made to do.

Racing.

His head drooped lower, his fingers curling up over the curve of his skull. He went too far. It was too much. The gaping, aching, fizzling hole that was torn out of his code when his game was unplugged began to itch like a scabbing wound. He did not simply miss racing. He suffered for want of it, like a hunger that sapped the strength from his bones. Everything that was left of his code began to whisper in sharp, overlapping voices, begging him to obey his programming:

Race. Race. Race. Race. Race. Race. Race. Race. Race.

He had no car. No track. Absolutely no way to sate that need. Still, the urges were relentless, and he rocked slightly as they burrowed deep into his brain. He sucked in deep breaths, tension mounting in his body until, with one sharp, quick movement, he chucked the goggles clear across the boxy room.

The near involuntary action snapped him out of it just enough for him to make the decision to get out of bed. No sense trying to fight a full-body meltdown while sitting next to a sleeping girl. He stood, the restlessness in his muscles stirring him into a sort of quick walk, the sort that, if he were anywhere else, might have implied that he had somewhere to go. Still, he prowled around, setting foot everywhere that Mavis was not. He stepped over the backs of the bench-like couches that had been in the train platform since he arrived there. He took pause to look out of the socket, but the sight of other games filled him with resentment and prompted him to pace near the walls instead. Again and again, he passed by the notes he had pinned up. There were maps of other games that Mavis had charted. Next to them were notes pointing to locations on the maps, about entry points, Good Guy/Bad Guy residences, NPC cycles, places hidden from sight of the player, and miscellaneous. Next to them were sheets of badly scrawled ideas and theories, many already crossed out, some circled, some littered with question marks.

It had been a whole lot of work for both of them. But what did they have to show for it? Even if they succeeded, what would they have to show for it? Would this really bring him anything he wanted? Anything he needed? Would just living in a game ever be enough? He would be an NPC. A background character. Totally insignificant, yet in constant risk of being discovered for the violent criminal he was. Would that all be worth it, just to live in a game?

His pacing tightened to just that space of wall as he felt his blood begin to boil. Turbo was never meant to live in anyone’s shadow, to be a face in the crowd, to be alone in the back seat. Turbo was never meant to live anywhere without a track. Turbo was the king of racing. How could he have ever tried to believe he could live without it? How could he have wasted his and Mavis’ time by having her chart games he would have rather died than been confined to?

“I cant--” he hissed wetly. “I can’t-- freakin’--!!”

With a frenzied rake of his hand, he tore a fistful of notes from the wall. Then another, and another. His heart and guts blazed with a sick, toxic fire. It was useless, all of it. All the work, planning, ideas -- if it was not for a racing game, it was all for nothing.

His code carried on nagging -- Race. Race. Race. Race.

He took the scraps in his hands and ripped them to shreds. He would never give up racing. No one would make him. Safety alone could not be their top priority. It had to be racing.

His code chanted -- Race! Race! Race! Race! Race!

He would die without racing. He would die. He would die.

It shrieked -- RACE! RACE! RACE! RACE! RACE! RACE!

It broke him. In an instant, his senses were thrown into a vortex. His vision exploded into a red flare of flashing pixels, his ears crackled with deafening static, and the very integrity of his body seemed to give out. Something collided hard into his left side, but he could not have said if it was the floor or the wall, as the room had begun flipping over itself. A vicious glitching attack wracked his code. It was all he could do to clench up, hold still, and wait for the sensation of burning hooks tugging his body apart to die down.

Slowly, his vision began to return. Cracking open his raw eyes, he could see shapes around the room through the flickering red and orange static. He had fallen to the floor, and his head was throbbing, though that may have been from the shrill, garbled audio finally beginning to fade from his ears. As he fought to catch his breath, he watched his hand glitch as it lay flat on the floor. Ribbons of red binary leapt out and sliced his pixels into shuddering, uneven shapes before it would all snap back together like nothing happened.

When he gained the strength, he shakily sat up and brushed the dirt from his face. The worst of the attack had passed, but beneath his skin, his binary still skittered angrily around itself like digits of tiny, angry metal bugs. Drained of all his fire, he simply took shallow, unsteady breaths, scratching hard at the itch under his skin and wincing at the glitch aftershocks.

His code was sick. It was very, very sick. He resented the reminder. He resented how it was unsafe to even have memories sometimes. After all, memories were almost all he had left.

But he had to keep it together, or he would never make it out of the shadows again.

Across the room, a sound caught his tired attention. It was Mavis again, but from what he could hear, she was talking. He squinted, the light shining on him through the socket hole making it difficult to see her in the dark corner.

Throat dry, he rasped, “Mav? You up?”

For several minutes, there was no response, until he heard her low voice again, and a soft thump. With a deep, weary sigh, he pushed up on wobbly, flickering legs and hobbled back to her.

Still asleep. Still dreaming. It just seemed to have gotten worse. The blankets were thrown in a tangled mess, hardly covering her anymore. Her breathing was stressed and uneven, and her strained groaning occasionally opened to bits of broken words.

“Get--” he heard her say. “Get off-- off me… Don’t--...”

His post-glitch-attack depression began to set in, weighing heavy on his already exhausted body. Unable to stand any longer, he moved to sit next to her again while she fought her nightmare. He wondered just what she was dreaming about. Ever since the incident, she understandably had a whole new set of dangerous memories of her own. He knew that many of them had to have been about losing him, but… sometimes, she muttered in her sleep about things he did not understand. Over time, he had begun to wonder just what happened to her in the time he was gone. If someone might have hurt her. If she might have hurt herself. But no matter what, she refused to talk about it.

Whatever it was… it was his fault.

He startled a bit as she spoke clearer, “Get-- Get outta my way, damn it--! He’s in there-- He’s still in there!”

Heart thumping, he swallowed. This nightmare in particular, he had become very well acquainted with. It really was time to wake her up. Carefully reaching over, he gave her shoulder a single push. “Mav, hey,” he said. “Wakey wakey.”

“I don’t care, I don’t CARE!” she snapped, voice growing louder with panic as she writhed, almost in pain. “Just let me go! He’s still in there, I gotta save him! I can save him! He’s in there, my BEST FRIEND’S IN THERE, I HAVE TO S-- SS-- SAVE--!!”

Unable to hear any more, he grabbed onto her shoulder and shook hard. “MAV!”

“GET OFF ME!” she thrashed his arm away and shot upright. She froze then, breathing hard and staring out into the room. “I could’ve-- I could…”

“Okay,” he breathed, his voice high with distress, as he moved to touch her back. “Hey, hey, c’mon, kid, you’re fine. You’re fine.”

She did not turn. “He’s…”

“He’s good. He’s alive. C’mon--” he scooted forward and twisted her shoulders towards him, squeezing and rubbing all the way down to her hands, but her gaze was still downcast, her eyes wide with blank shock. Taking her face in his hands, he tilted it up to lock eyes with her. “Look,” he said insistently, holding up one of her hands to his cheek and patting to really get the point across. “I’m fine. I’m right here. It was a dream. No big deal. You’re okay.”

Once he finally got to look in her eyes, and saw the way she stared straight through him, it became very clear to him that she was still asleep. Even so, a very real, conscious grief touched her face, the sort that he found difficult to look at.

Brokenly, she muttered, “I could’ve saved him.”

His stomach twisted. He brought both hands to her face again, stroking a bit too hard in his distress. “S’okay,” he insisted quietly. “I’m okay. You’re okay.”

“I-- I could’ve… could’ve saved him...” her voice dropped short and her body suddenly grew heavier. As sleep swiftly overtook her again, he pulled her close and directed her head to his chest until he was leaning back against the wall, holding her.

“Relax...” he sighed. “Y’did.”

The close contact was very effective at soothing his glitch pains. Ever since his code had been torn down to size, hers seemed so much denser than he remembered… and he had begun to appreciate just what it was like to live with a code deficiency. Being in proximity to her code really did make him feel more steady. It made him feel less… small.

There was just one downside to the touching -- a glitch aftershock hit him again, and Mavis’ code got caught up in it. His body flickered with hissing red binary, and a flash of glowing blue zapped over her pixels.

With a real shriek of alarm that threw Turbo’s heart into his throat, she shot up again, finally fully awake next to him. “Wh-- What-- What happened?” she asked quickly. “What the hell?”

   Exasperated with how upsetting his night was getting, Turbo just leaned back and wove his fingers together over his stomach, willing his code to stay intact. “Hiya,” he said. “Y’were havin’ a nightmare.”

She nodded slowly, her jaw jutting a bit. “Right…” she whispered, suddenly squinting. “But… I glitched?”

He shrugged. “Apparently, it was a real bad one.”

Mavis stared at him, and he could almost see her bullshit meter climbing higher. The look on her face was disbelieving, but after a moment, it softened just a bit, and she looked him over. “Program withdrawal buggin’ you again, huh?”

“Pbbt,” he blew out the side of his lips, loading up a half-assed lie. “Ain’t that bad. Just hard to sleep with it, is all.”

He had been hoping that she would sass him, or something. But she said nothing, simply looking at him in a way that implied her bullshit meter was at maximum capacity.

Looking away, tapping a thumb against his belly, he sighed. Reluctantly, he muttered, “It sucks. It sucks a lot. And it ain’t gotten much better since I started havin’ it. If anythin’, I think it’s just gettin’ worse.”

Mavis did not seem to know what to say. Her gaze just slowly dropped, and she idly rubbed his leg a bit, deep in troubled thoughts.

Turbo took in a full, steadying breath, and released it slowly, seeing no way around the question on his mind. He asked, barely audible, “How much worse is it gonna get?”

Mavis shook her head. “I… don’t know. These ain’t the kinda withdrawals I got experience with.”

“When’s…” he muttered, “when’s it gonna end?”

“When we figure somethin’ out,” she said without hesitation. “And we will. No question. So… hang in there. It ain’t gonna be forever.”

Although it did not immediately solve his problem, he was glad to have the reminder of how determined and virtually unstoppable his partner was. Just like him.

“Good enough,” he grunted tiredly, lying down a bit more before extending an arm and gesturing inward. “Get over here. Bring it in.”

Offering just a small puff of laughter from her nose, Mavis draped a blanket over her shoulders and crawled over him, settling in to lie right on top of him. She laced her hands over his chest and rested her chin on them. Turbo rubbed her shoulders a bit, sighing slowly through his nose. The deep pressure of her weight was quite nearly forcing the upset swirling in his code to settle down. It really was incredible how much it helped. It blew his mind the first time, and he was still baffled by it. Mavis must have been able to tell, from the knowing smile she was giving him.

It seemed just in her nature to be smug about being genuinely helpful.

For several minutes, he just fiddled with the soft, fine hair above the nape of her neck, looping and twisting it between his fingers, while she stared at his collarbone, clearly zoning out. Turbo almost believed she fell asleep with her eyes open.

“Where’d ya go, space cadet?” he asked.

Her brow furrowed. “Uh… somewhere either brilliant or stupid.”

“I think you’ve spent your whole life there,” he remarked.

Ignoring him, she continued, “Just-- Well, listen. I was thinkin’ we could try somethin’ that might help your withdrawals a bit. Maybe.”

He perked up a bit, but cautiously. “Oh..?”

She propped up a bit on her elbows to look at him more directly. “You really gotta race. Real bad. And, like, I know car racing is what you really need, but like… d’you think just comin’ up with some other sorta races we could do together would help? Even just to take the edge off a bit?”

He squinted. “What kind of races?”

“Pfft, I dunno, Turbo, the race template ain’t hard to replicate. Whoever does a thing faster wins. I can definitely make some fun things outta that. Things we can do in here.”

He pondered that. “I dunno if that’ll work or not, but it sounds fun, anyway. Some sense a’ competition and victory would do me good. Anythin’ to keep my brain from meltin’ out my ears in here.”

“Let’s give it a shot, then,” she said, smiling, as she settled back down. “I think I’m onto somethin’.”

“Yeah, yeah. We’re all very impressed with your genius,” he said with a smirk, combing his fingers through her hair.

They were both silent for some time. Not long after Mavis’ eyes had fallen shut, Turbo piped up softly.

“Hey,” he breathed.

Her eyes opened and her face merely perked up a bit. Looking at her, he just kept getting stuck on the fact that in however many hours were left until Surge opened the wall port in Game Central, she would leave, riding the electric current back to the place he could not follow, and he would be alone again… for hours. With his thoughts, his memories, most likely his sickness. The crushing loneliness was never a fun thing to deal with, but after a rough night like that…

He asked, “What say you stay here tomorrow, huh?”

Her brow raised, but she was still smiling. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” his hand slipped behind her neck to scratch a bit. “We don’t even gotta do work. Let’s just hang out. When’s the last time we did that?”

“S’been a while,” she agreed. “You wanna try out my idea, then?”

“Yeah, maybe. I dunno. Let’s just goof off n’ see what happens,” he smiled a bit.

“Yeah, alright, I’m down,” she said. “I don’t wanna go back to Felix’s boring-ass game anyway.”

“Alright,” he nodded. “Nice.”

She smiled. “Nice.”

Turbo took a deep breath, straining just a bit from her weight on his ribcage, and finally closed his eyes. He felt Mavis scoot up a bit and lay her cheek flat against his chest, tucking her head in under his chin. After just a few minutes of wrestling with himself for being sappy, he placed a quick kiss in her hair. Against his chest, he felt her cheek smile for just a second.

He would have to talk to her tomorrow about why he tore her notes to shreds. Probably apologize. But she would have to understand why.

He had lost his crown. But even if it killed him, he would take it back again.

[fernwehbookworm]

Woke The F*ck Up- Chapter 10

May 10th, 2017

Lena sat at her desk with her earphones plugged in. The best Lionel could buy because how else would you make up for shipping your fifteen, now seventeen, year old daughter to college way earlier than she should be. Lena wasn’t upset though, high school bored her at twelve so at least college grabbed her attention. Also, she was away from Luthor Mansion most of the year this way, in the single dorm room, Lionel also paid for, only going home when they closed the dorms over winter and summer break. Even then she spent most of her time doing stupid shit with Ronnie. Ronnie who always pushed her limits, mentally and physically. She was only a year older but they had both done so much growing together. So much avoiding their families too. Now she lay fast asleep in Lena’s bed as the hour was quickly approaching three. It was Lena’s favorite time of night, everything was quiet in the outside world as the music she was composing repeated through the speakers on her ears.

Ronnie didn’t know about this song was about her. It was Lena working through her feelings the only way she knew how. Maybe it would help her to work up the courage to tell her. To tell Veronica Sinclair that, despite her dysfunctional baggage and her terrible coping mechanisms, she loves her. Lena doesn't know how it happened, or when. One morning she woke up to slip from Veronica’s bed before the owner woke up, one of their unspoken rules and the sunlight was just right, and Lena finally put the word to the confusing emotions. Love. It was a first. But it made sense, her and Ronnie had been sleeping together since they both graduated high school at fourteen and fifteen. It may have been too soon but they always pushed limits. It took Lena three years to figure out love. The song starts again as Lena messes with some of the chords. The software was top of the line and really helped since Lillian forbid her from learning anything besides piano and violin. It was a sick sort of joke, she was skilled enough to compose, not to play. 

I come over Quarter past two 

Love in my eyes 

Blinded by you 

Just to get a taste of heaven

 I'm on my knees I can't help it

I'm addicted

But I can't stand the

Pain inflicted

In the morning

You're not holding on to me

Tell me what's the point of doing this every night

What you're giving me

Is nothing but a heart

It's a lullaby

Gonna kill my dreams, oh

This is the last time

Baby make up your mind

'Cause I can't keep sleeping in your bed

If you keep messing with my head

Before I slip under your sheets

Can you give me something, please?

I can't keep touching you like this

If it's just temporary bliss

Just temporary bliss

Ronnie stirred and sat up. Lena knew she was getting ready to leave so she paused the music and watched the slender figure in the moonlight. Ronnie gathered her clothing and dressed before santuring over the Lena and pulling her headphones off.

“When do you sleep?”

“Uhhh…” Lena swallowed, it was always hard to think with Ronnie this close.

“That’s what I thought. Are you at least doing something productive?”

“Yes actually. I think this is almost done.” Lena gestures to the laptop with so many different little boxes Veronica doesn't even know where to look.

“Play it for me?”

Lena bites her lip before nodding. Quickly she turns off the box with the lyrics she recorded yesterday and plays just the instrumental. Ronnie listens to the whole thing.

“Lena, that’s great! But where are the lyrics? You have a beautiful voice.”

“I am still working on them. Something isn’t right but hopefully, I can figure it out soon.”

“You should share all this work you do.” Lena snorts back laughter at Ronnie’s idea.

“Really. Lena. You are so good at music.” Lena rolls her eyes.

“Not good enough. If I was I would have actually tested in prodigy at something, instead of excellent at most things. Then Lillian may have actually let me pursue music.”

“Okay, I’ll make you a bet. If you enter the end of year Talent show and win I will… take us on a trip to France this summer after you turn eighteen. If you lose, I won’t ever bring it up again.”

France. One of the most romantic cities in the world. They had always talked about exploring the world after college. That gave Lena hope that maybe this would go better than she feared. Ronnie had always said that this was just friends, with benefits. That she didn't want anything more because what they had was great and they were both too broken by demanding families to be able to function past that. But maybe, just maybe, it was all just words. Maybe Lena just had to make the first move.

“Okay. Okay. On one condition. You don’t get to hear the song until I perform it for everyone else.”

Ronnie looks confused but nods anyway. She kisses Lena briefly before leaving her dorm room and Lena slips back on her headphones to continue working.

A week later Lena has a band. She had posted an ad promising a hundred dollars to each person and an extra hundred if they win on top of the prize money. It took some auditions to weed out those just there because they heard money was involved to find people with actual talent. After a week of intense rehearsals so that the new members could learn Lena’s music, Lena felt ready. Finals were over and her stage time slot was rapidly approaching. Lena looked around her, observing the new friendship between the guitarist and the drummer as they lounged on the couches backstage. The drummer sent one of his sticks at the guitarists head and he ducked, laughing as he almost fell off the stool.

The lights were blinding on stage. Lena’s palms sweat as she grips the microphone. But as soon as those opening chords played, something clicked. Like she had been holding her breath for so long, but now she was exhaling. Now she was home. The crowd erupted and exploded to their feet. This was it. This was Lena. Backstage she searched for Ronnie. She was going to tell her. She had to. That is when a woman appeared. Dark hair and skin, Dress suit and professional.

“Lena Luthor?”

“Yes. And you are?”

“Jessica Houng. I am here representing Green Diamond Records. I was sent to find a new face for our company. I believe that you should be that face. You are extremely talented, assuming that was an original song.”

“Y-yes. I wrote and composed it. It was… wow. Green Diamond. The same company behind My Chemical Romance and Linkin Park ? They are two of my biggest inspirations. I love their sound and, oh no, I am rambling to a Green Diamond scout. Shutting up now.” Lena self consciously crosses her arms. Never had she felt so nervous, never had she rambled before, Lillian made sure of that. Jessica just laughs.

“It’s fine Lena. We want you. Contracts are already being made if you want to join us. I guarantee, this time next year you will have an album ready to release.”

Joy bubbled up in Lena. That was everything she ever wanted. Music. Not science or engineering or business, all acceptable pursuits for the Luthor family. Music. Real music. The biggest smile Lena had ever felt emerged on her face. Then it came crashing down. Contract. Lena was still seventeen so she would need permission.

“I...I can’t. I am only seventeen. My mother hates music. She would never let me.”

“Well, that is a shame. I tell you what. Take this card. Call me when you turn eighteen. We will keep your contracts until then. I can even send copies so you can have a lawyer look over them if you wish before you sign on. Please consider it Lena.”

With that Jessica walks away, disappearing into the crowd backstage, waiting for the winner to be announced. It was her. Her band at least. But Lena’s real prize was the little card in her pocket that said “Jessica Houng, Green Diamond Recording.” that was it. A black card with an emerald gem and gold lettering across it spelling out the name and phone number. That was going to be Lena’s future, her way out from the family she hated. Hopefully with the only family that mattered. Lena sees Ronnie backstage. She jerks her head and Lena nods, knowing she wants them to meet in Lena’s room. Lena accepts the words of congratulations as she makes her escape.

Ronnie stood outside her dorm room door. Something was off in her demeanor. She looked…. Unsure.

“Hey,” Lea said smiling and stretching up on her toes to kiss her lover. Ronnie turned to the side so Lena’s kiss landed on her cheek. Lena furrowed her brow but unlocked the door and walked in, setting the trophy and flowers she earned for first place on her desk. She turned to see Ronnie still standing by the door very awkwardly. That was unusual. Ronnie always made herself at home, lounging immediately on the bed or raiding her fridge.

“Ronnie? What is it? Come on, let's celebrate. I won. And you owe me a trip to France.” Lena sauntered up to the other woman, she gently pulls at her crossed arms to try and get her to relax.

“Lena. Stop. We have to talk.” Lena backs away at the harshness in her voice.

“What is it?”

“Was… was that song about me? Is that how you feel? That you…” Ronnie trails off. Lena should have seen this coming. For all her brains and Luthor training she should have seen it. But she was still riding a high from her Green Diamond encounter. Now she was crashing down. Hard. All she could do is take the last of her confidence and tell her.

“I love you, Ronnie. I have been in love with you for a long time now, I think. And now, now I have a future that I am really looking forward to, one I want to share with you. Come with me when I turn eighteen. We can go to Metropolis and start new lives. Together.”

Ronnie’s mouth open and closed. Opened and closed. She exhaled long and loud. Then she shook her head. Veronica Sinclair walked out of Lena Luthor’s dorm room without another word. But it was enough. Enough for Lena’s heart to shatter.

**

November 6th, 2017

Kara’s lips trace the gentle curve of Lena’s neck up to the strong line of her jaw. The soft hotel sheets tangle around their waists as their bare torsos press together. Lena moans into Kara’s hair as Kara brushes across a stiff nipple and she digs her blunted nails into Kara’s shoulders. The first encounter was rushed and heated the night before, barely making it back to the hotel. The second time even more so. Now, as the sun rose and sleep still clouded their eyes, Kara was taking her time. She was slowly and gently exploring Lena in a way she hadn’t ever before. Lena was lost in the barely-there touches that rose goosebumps all over her body, the brush of lips that roamed freely, and the natural scent of Kara that Lena always desperately tried to remember but never did justice.

Kara begins to make her way further down Lena’s body as sighs escape Lena’s lips, occasionally punctuated with a moan. She can feel Kara smiling against her skin whenever she earns one of those. Kara’s tongue begins to punctuate each kiss earning more moans from Lena. She gasps as Kara dips her tongue into her navel then nips just below it. Lena is trying hard not to squirm against Kara’s stomach because she knows this is supposed to be sweet but Lena’s need is growing with each press of her lips.

“Kara…” Lena whines out.

Kara smiles, knowing what she is doing to the singer, but she nods anyway. Just as slowly as anything else Kara runs her tongue through Lena’s dripping folds. Lena stiffens then relaxes with a sigh, gently weaving her fingers into blonde hair that is wild from multiple orgasms and sleep. Kara laps slowly through Lena, circling her clit and starting again from Lena’s entrance. Just as Lena is about to ask for more Kara slips a finger inside. She thrusts precisely, brushing Lena’s front wall as her teeth graze her clit before soothing it again with her tongue. In a few short strokes, Lena comes with a short choked noise as the air catches in her lungs and her entire body tenses with pleasure. Kara removers her finger but continues to lick gently at her clit until Lena releases with a sigh. Lena tugs on Kara’s hair to bring her back up and kiss her lips. She moans slightly at the taste of herself still on Kara’s lips.

“Well, that is certainly one way to wake up,” Lena says and Kara nuzzles into her neck.

“You just looked so beautiful in the morning sun. I had to touch you.” Lena feels her cheeks heat and she is so glad Kara is still hiding in her neck.

“I… I don’t deserve you, Kara Danvers.” Kara rolls off of Lena and props herself on an elbow. With her free hand, she tucks hair behind Lena’s ear.

“You can’t believe that. Jess ratted you out. I know how much you donate to children’s hospitals and charities. I know the STEM and Music programs you help fund all over the United States. You are a good person and you deserve this.”

Lena turns away from Kara and looks out the window. Kara traces her jaw with her finger and Lena unconsciously leans back into Kara’s hand and meets her sky blue eyes.

“You know what I mean. I do those things to ease my guilt. I am not a good person. I have been selfish, I have taken or purchased everything I have ever wanted since I became famous.”

“What about since we met? Have you felt like that?” Lena furrows her brow in concentration as she really thinks about Kara’s question.

“No…” She says slowly.

“Lena, you have been hurt. You have been lonely. I was the same way after my parents died. I spent a couple of months in a group home. I lashed out. I got in so many fights. Then when the Danvers’ adopted me, Alex and I got in so many fights that we were never allowed in the same room alone. If I hadn’t had them though, if I hadn’t had Jeremiah enrolling me in every type of fighting class, if I hadn’t had that love, who knows where I would have ended up. I could have bounced around from home to home and school to school until I was eighteen or ran away. Ended up on the streets even. You know, I looked up a couple of people from that group home one time. Most are either in jail, drug addicts, or dead. Hurt does that to people. It causes us to lash out, to look for things to stop the hurt. It doesn't make you a bad person. What makes you a good person is those little things that you do like spending most of your money on children who will never know who changed their life.” Kara watches emotions flick across Lena’s features the whole time she talks. Lena’s eyes shine like emeralds as tears spring to her eyes.

“Kara, I...I lo-” Kara quickly presses a kiss to Lena’s lips and gets up.

“Okay, enough serious talk. Lena, I want to be with you. So no more of this ‘I don't’ deserve you,’ crap. I want to go explore… Where are we again?” The hurt and confusion that flashes across Lena’s face is replaced with a laugh and Lena stands to follow Kara to their suitcases. They had landed in the same airport and quickly made their way to the hotel last night, much to Jess’ amusement. They had dumped everything by the door as Kara quickly swept the singer into her arms.

“We are in Munich. Pity we missed Oktoberfest.” Lena smirks and Kara rolls her eyes.

“I don’t drink.”

“But seeing you in a Dirndl would have been amazing.” Lena bites her bottom lip and looks more like she is enjoying Kara without clothes than with. Kara blushes.

“I have no idea what that is but I don’t think I want to know.”

Lena laughs and begins to sift through her suitcase to look for clothes to wear.

“So what are we going to do today? Since you know so much.” Kara asks as she successfully extracts a pair of black jeans and a white pocket t-shirt from her duffle.

“I figured we could start at Marienplatz, Marien Square, and hit up a few other tourist traps and museums. I’d like to go to Viktualienmarkt for lunch and explore the booths.”

“Easy there tiger, we don’t have to do it all in one day.” Kara pulls her t-shirt over her head and is greeted with Lena’s toothy grin.

“That’s right, we have three whole days together. You are even coming to a concert.”

“And I have a surprise for you.” Kara pulls out her red and blue leather jacket and slips it on as well. Lena eyes it, trying to figure out what Kara meant.

“Go on, get dressed. But you may want to wear pants.” Kara nods to the dress in Lena’s hands and she puts it back. A knock at the door.

“I got it. You change.” Lena nods, still very confused as she finds her own jeans and green blouse. Lena pokes her head around the corner when she hears Jess’ muffled voice.

“Jess?”

“Hello, Lena. Anyway, What you requested is downstairs. The valet boy is paid to watch it until you get there. Lena, I emailed you a list of places its recommended people visit as well as where your reservations are for dinner tonight. Have fun you two.” Jess winks and Kara laughs and bids her goodbye before shutting the door.

“Ready?” Kara asks, raising an eyebrow at Lena’s half on shirt, Lena just rolls her eyes as she finishes putting her head through the hole and heads to the bathroom in an attempt to tame her clearly sex tangled hair and to cover up Kara’s eager love marks. Lena pauses slightly at that word, remembering how Kara cut her off in bed. Did Kara know what she was about to say? Lena didn’t even know until it was already on its way out of her mouth. Did Kara not feel the same? No, she clearly cared about Lena. Maybe she didn't know. Maybe she knew Lena was about to say something she wasn’t ready for. Was she ready for love? The only other time she told someone she loved them it ended in complete heartbreak. Maybe Kara was saving her from crossing a line neither of them were ready for. It also could have just been the post-orgasmic feelings.

“I can hear you thinking again,” Kara says from the bathroom door and startles Lena out of her reverie.

“Come on, you can’t be so serious the whole time I’m here.” Lena rolls her eyes.

“I am not. I am just trying to cover up what you put on my neck.” Lena shoots back and a cocky grin spreads across Kara’s face.

“You weren’t complaining when I put them there.” Lena rolls her eyes again and begins to pack away her makeup, being mostly successful with the coverage. Kara holds out her hand and Lena laces her fingers through Kara’s as she leads them out of the hotel room and to the elevator.

“Do I at least get a hint at what my surprise is?” Lena leans in to whisper in Kara’s ear, allowing her teeth to graze the lobe and Leana laughs softly as Kara audibly gulps. Luckily they were alone.

“You did. I told you to wear pants, remember?”

“I remember…” Lena says a little disappointed.

“Then you will see once we are outside.” Lena huffs her disappointment but leans further into Kara anyway to show she is not actually mad.

They cross the bustling hotel lobby, filled with tourist families readying for a day of exploring. The conversations happening all around them turn into a droning noise as languages intermingle the women’s ears. Outside, Lena looks around for… what, she doesn't know. Kara chuckles and pulls her towards the valet stand. On the other side, a pimply looking teenage boy stands with eyes filled with boredom, but Lena lights up at what she sees next to him. A motorcycle with a jacket and two helmets perched on top.

Kara was excited when she thought of this. The model was the same as the one Winn had got her, just without all the bells and whistles, it was a sleek black. Karas leather jacket was red and blue with a matching blue helmet. For Lena, Kara had asked Jess to get black with a green accent on both helmet and jacket.

“You brought your motorcycle?” Lena asks, both excited and astonished. Kara laughs.

“More like rented. And technically you rented it. I am just your driver for the day.” Kara holds up Lena’s jacket and helps her into it. When Kara hands her the helmet Lena looks nervous. Kara raises an eyebrow.

“I...I’ve never been on a motorcycle.”

“Just relax. Move with me. I know you can do that. But if you don’t want to I can have Jess rent a car.” Kara looked a little smug at her prediction that Lena would love this but concern for her overshadowed that. Lena smiles.

“Let's do this.” She fits the helmet over her head while Kara zips her own jacket and pulls her helmet on.

Kara gets on the bike and holds Lena’s hand as she straddles it as well. The way Lena settles against her feels so right. Lena feels so right. Guilt washes over Kara as she starts the engine. Lena was going to say she loved her, she knew that. But Lena didn’t know. Lena didn’t know that when Kara wasn’t with her, she was risking her life to try and save the city she loved. She was living outside the law and the new police chief had it out for her. At least this one was putting away Cadmus members also but he had decided that ‘vigilantism was making matter worse because no one should break the law, no matter their intentions.

If Lena knew than she could be in as much trouble as Winn and James if they were caught. But how could Kara not tell Lena? Kara was frozen in her indecision, so she cut off Lena’s proclamation so that the line wasn’t crossed. So there was still a line when she knew the truth if she knew the truth.

Lena’s arms tighten around Kara’s waist as she navigates through traffic, weaving in and out of cars with the practiced ease of someone who has done so with bullets flying at her at top speeds on the highway. The day flies past them as they attempt to explore as much of the city as they can. They fall back into bed, exhausted and content, after showering together. Kara wearily wraps her arms around Lena before pressing a kiss between her shoulder blades and replacing her lips with her forehead. Kara tangles their legs together too. Kara insisted on no pajamas even though they were both too tired for more activities.

“I know we spend more nights apart than together, but I don’t sleep as well as I do with you.” Kara mumbles, already half asleep.

“I know. The beds always feels too big without you.” Lena tangles her fingers in one of Kara’s hand at her waist and pulls it up to place a kiss on her knuckles before tucking both of their hands under her chin.

**

November 7th, 2017

Lena wakes to a quick knocking and then a bellhop rolling in a trolly with their breakfast before quickly leaving. She sighs and attempts to pry herself from Kara’s grip, knowing she has a full day ahead of her. All Kara does is tighten her arm around Lena’s hip and groans softly. Lena chuckles softly and then manages to turn so she is facing Kara, lips almost brushing at the proximity.

“Kara. We have to get up. Or at least I have to. I need to be at soundcheck in two hours and I have a meet and greet before the concert. And I have…”

“Shh… we have at least a half an hour before we really have to get up. You have to barely be Lena Luthor for soundcheck and then your stylist team will do the rest.” Lena laughs and the sound sends joy shooting through Kara and waking her up better than any cup of coffee. Kara smiles at the raven-haired beauty who had pulled back just far enough to look at her.

“Did you just refer to who I am as a singer as a different person?”

“Well yeah. I mean isn’t she? That's the point of the disguise right? I can see a difference in the giggling girl in my arms now and the mask you hide behind to perform. Or maybe it's just such a different part of your personality that it feels like a mask. I don’t really care though. I understand it, the person I am when I fight is different from the person I am otherwise-”

“Kara, you are rambling.” Lena cuts her off with a kiss.

“Yes, sometimes in my head it's two different people. But most of the time it's all me. Although I feel like who I am now and who I was a couple months ago are two different people.”

“Is that good or bad?” Kara asks, concern clear on her face. Lena laughs.

“Good. Very good. For the first time in a long time, I don’t dread the future, or just let life push me forward. I am starting to be truly happy and have… I guess hope. Hope that my life will one day be more than being a bastard Luthor or a famous singer.” Kara grins ear to ear at Lena’s words. Then she kisses her hard. Quickly Kara begins kissing down her neck. Lena moans.

“Kara, I have to get ready.”

“I’ll be quick.”

“You are insatiable,” Lena says even as she tangles her fingers in blonde locks and Kara finds her already bare nipple.

Heat floods Lena’s body instantly. She was just as hungry for Kara. Kara who was focused on lavishing her breasts while her slick heat pressed hard against Lena’s thigh. Kara bites the soft flesh on the underside of Lena’s breast causing a cry of pleasure to escape Lena’s throat. Lena secretly loves that Kara is a biter. It's never harsh but it mixes just the right amount of pain and pleasure. Lena scraps her nails along Kara’s back as she does it again. Kara moans deeply, sending vibrations straight to Lena’s core. Her hips begin to rock up against the blonde, seeking friction to relieve some of the pressure building there. Kara notices and adjusts to press her own thigh against Lena. They both begin to move against each other. Lena pulls Kara backup to kiss her. Their tongues meet in sloppy kisses as moans build with pleasure.

Lena can feel Kara losing her controlled movements as Kara buries her face in Lena’s neck, unable to kiss her with the strangled moans escaping her mouth. Kara is close, and Lena isn’t close enough. Frustration creeps in because she wants to cum with her. As if sensing that, Kara shifts again and two fingers find Lena’s entrance and immediately dive in, curling to find the soft sensitive spot on Lena’s front wall. “Fuck!” Lena screams as pleasure washes over her. Kara tenses above her in her own pleasure, nothing more than a clipped cry escaping to Lena’s ears.

Kara settles back onto Lena with a small twitch of post-orgasmic pleasure leaves her body with her head pillowed on Lena’s breast. Lena laughs softly as Kara nuzzles in deeper.

“I love your boobs,” Kara says causing real laughter from Lena.

“I can tell. And even if I couldn’t the hickies would give it away.” New ones now spotted both even though the ones from Kara’s last visit had just faded away. Lena was just glad Kara kept the marking to the coverable areas now. Kara grins up at Lena before lightly tracing a newly blooming bruise.

“I can’t help it. But hey, ten minutes to spare. Perfect time to cuddle before getting ready.” Lena’s arms instinctively tighten around Kara’s shoulders and lets her eyes drift shut. All too soon Kara is shifting to pull her from the bed and placing a light kiss on her lips before heading to the bathroom. Lena moves around to find appropriate clothes to wear to soundcheck when Kara re-emerges.

“So there is something I need to tell you. And something I need to ask you.” Kara crosses her arms and looks really unsure as she leans against the doorway. Immediately Lena's thoughts begin to fly, like bees in a stirred up hive. She begins to think the worse. Suddenly Kara stands straight and strides towards her.

“Oh no, it's nothing bad. Well, it may be for you, depending on how you feel. I mean-”

“Kara, stop rambling and tell me what the fuck you are trying to tell me.”

“I’m opening a gym.” Kara rushes out. After Lena takes a second to process what she said, she smiles.

“Kara, babe, that's great. Why were you so worried?”

“Because if I do this then I won't be able to come see you as much, if at all. It will be a lot of hours while I get it up and running and even more until I can get people I can trust to run it for a couple of days.”

Lena rests her hands on Kara’s upper arms because she was still so closed off and unsure. Lena tries to ignore the flash of arousal at the tight muscles coiled under the soft skin because Kara needs Lena to be understanding, not her strong suit.

“Kara. Kara look at me. I would never, never , fault you for following your dreams. I told you that I wouldn't give up my music for this relationship and I don't expect you to give up what you love either. If opening this gym is what you want to do, then do it.”

Kara’s eyes shine with emotion as she looks at Lena. Relief floods her features from the secret she had been holding back.

“Thank you,” Kara says softly.

“Now, what else did you want to tell me?” Kara bites her lip as she hesitates to respond.

“Eliza wants to meet you.” She says even quieter than before.

“Y-your foster mom?” Kara nods and Lena drops her hands from her arms and crosses them over her chest. Kara mimics the posture that Lena had just moments before and rubs Lena's arms. Her suddenly closed of position isn't a good sign.

“I have never been good with parents. I don't have much experience with them. My mom died, my new mom was cold and my dad was a mass murdering terrorist. And what if…” Lena trails off, avoiding Kara’s eyes. Kara tilts her chin up softly and places a soft kiss on Lena’s cheek.

“What if what?”

“What if I am not good enough. I know I am not but what if she thinks so too. And, oh God, what if she believes everything the press has said about me. Some of it's true, you know that, but a lot of it is fake or blown way out of proportion and…”

Kara kisses her hard then to stop her rambling.

“First, just be who you are with me and she will love you. Secondly, this whole not good enough thing really has to stop. Lena, is there something big you are hiding from me that keeps this coming up? I haven't run yet and I am not planning to.” Lena shakes her head but Kara can see tears threatening to spill out.

“If it's too much you don't have to meet her, I won't force you to.” Kara watches as Lena chews on her bottom lip, she can see gears turning behind her eyes.

“No, it's not too much. When?”

“I was thinking during your two-week break, After the tour and before you prepare for the new album. Come to Midvale for a few days. I know you will have to do some recording for the album but Jess said she can clear everything else, and the recording you can do in National City afterward. It's only like an hour by train.” Lena laughs softly.

“Of course you already talked to Jess. Do you guys text too?”

“Well yeah,” Kara says seriously and Lena’s jaw drops, she was kidding but also it shouldn't surprise her.

“Of course you do.” Lena sighs. She looks at the time and they should have left five minutes ago.

“Okay get dressed. We are already late as it is. The car should be downstairs.”

“It's not. I told you. I'm your driver this week.” Kara says with a wink before disappearing into the bathroom. A blush floods Lena's cheeks at the thought of riding behind Kara on the motorcycle cycle again. She had spent all of yesterday terribly turned on as she pressed herself to Kara’s back and felt her strong muscles moving in every turn. She gulped and turned away from the now shut the bathroom door to finish getting ready herself before slipping on the black and green jacket Kara got for her to match the helmet.

**

The entire day had been a rush. Even though Kara mostly stood off to the side and watched Lena Luthor work. Soundcheck was simple as Lena ran through a couple of songs and Kara stood off stage. In between soundcheck and Lena's style team making her over, they had an intense make-out session in the green room. Only breaking apart when Gabriel bursts in. Kara had to quickly remove her hand from under Lena’s shirt as the man tore through the room like a hurricane and was closely followed by his team. Lena was whisked away across the room and Kara was left on the couch pouting at being interrupted. Lena found it amusing at the puppy-like expression on her girlfriend's face but there was nothing to be done.

During the meet and greet Kara hung back with the rest of Lena’s entourage, trying her hardest to blend in. She could have stayed in the green room but she really wanted to watch Lena work.

The woman lit up with her fans. So many young girls and even boys coming up and just trying to get out how much she inspires them to be strong and independent in mostly broken, heavily accented, English made Kara so happy it almost hurt. Especially since Kara knew Lena hardly ever thought that way. Kara successfully was able to be ignored until she spotted a familiar faded shirt next in line. It was one of her shirts. With her face scowling out from behind gloved fists. All in red and blue with 'Maiden of Might’ in big block red and blue letters. It was one of the shirts sold right before she won the championship title. The last match of her career.

When the girl stepped up to Lena, who was standing in front of a black backdrop for pictures, the girl seemed to scan the people off to the side and found what she was looking for when her gaze alighted on Kara. She grinned and said something to Lena that Kara didn't catch. But Lena matched the girl's smile and nodded.

“Hey, Kara! It seems our fan bases do cross over each other. It seems Madison here has been following both our Instagrams and came specifically to see you.” Lena shouts to Kara and motions her closer. Kara laughs and extracts herself from the small group of people she had tried to hide in.

“Well Madison, it's nice to meet you then,” Kara says as she walks over towards them. The girl, more like young women now that Kara is closer, hold out a marker.

“Would you sign my shirt? I followed most of your career and I'm a big fan. I even got into MMA myself. It really helped with my self-confidence but I'm not good enough to go pro like you did

But a huge fan.” She glances at Lena. Of both of you.” She says in an English accent. Kara finishes signing while the girl rambles and lets out a small laugh.

“Well, how about you get a picture with both of us then?” Kara beams down out the girl before casting a questioning look to Lena and Lena nods slightly.

“Really? That would be amazing!”

Both the women pose on either side of Madison. Kara actually flexes an impressive bicep causing Lena’s public smile to slip into a genuine one when she hears the sharp intake of breath and giggling from the crowd watching the exchange. After that cameras flash in nearly every direction now that people realize that Lena Luthor’s Girlfriend is present. After a quick hug between Kara and Madison, Kara tries to fade into the background again but Lena can see people taking pictures of her, even as Kara walks further away to take a phone call. She comes back looking slightly angry but smiles when Lena glances her way and mouths a 'Later.’

As security stops the procession of fans, per Jess’ order to keep to schedule, Kara wanders back over to her girlfriend and hesitantly holds her hand out. She was unsure of how public Lena wanted to be but Lena grins and pulls her closer.

“Want to give them a real treat?”

“What do you mean?” Kara asks.

“Well, most of my fans are LGBT so getting a picture of me kissing my girlfriend would really make their day.”

Kara doesn't waste any time. She kisses Lena hard, still riled up from their make-out session in the break room. It's probably inappropriate to run her tongue along Lena's bottom lip but Kara doesn't care. Lena just meets Kara’s tongue with her own briefly before pulling away. Lena places a light peck and Kara's pouting mouth before waving to the now screaming and cheering fans and heading back into the building, pulling Kara behind her.

Immediately afterward, Lena is swept into hair and makeup again while Kara makes another call to Winn.

“Tell me everything's okay.”

“ Yes. James is back. His shoulder was dislocated and the men got away with what looks like some sort of weapon shipment.”

“It was stupid. Both of you are so stupid. Just because James came on three, three, missions with me does not mean he is ready to go out on his own.” Kara whisper yells into the speaker to avoid being overheard by stagehands bustling through the hallway.

“ Well Detective Sawyer called and insisted and James was going to go whether I helped him or not. He is as stubborn as you are. And when it went south he got out. ”

“Not fucking soon enough. No more. Tell Sawyer I'm working on something else or something next time. When I get home, James is on probation until I say otherwise.”

“So we should have just let them go.with the weapons?”

“Yes, Winn! I'm sure we have missed others too. James risking his life like that, going in alone, that was stupid.”

“ But-”

“Enough. We can argue when we are on the same continent again. Did you get the business license?”

“It's still being processed. I could rush it but I think that's a risk we shouldn't take for the business going in right above our secret base.”

“No, you're right. Okay, well, text me if it comes through. When I get back we can start looking at contractors.”

“Okay. Bye Kara. This won't happen again so please just enjoy your trip.”

“Bye Winn.”

Kara hangs up and rubs her face and tries to shake the tension from her shoulders before going back into the room. She grabs a water from the mini-fridge and smiles at Lena in her element. Lena smiles back and sticks her tongue out at her. It's so freaking cute Kara could melt. Kara plops back into the couch that they had made out on earlier and just watches her girlfriend work. Jess talks to her about things going on for the show and the schedule for the next week. But Kara tunes her out. And just watches, still mulling over what Winn had told her. He called earlier to tell her that James might be in over his head and all it did was make her angry and worried. Very worried. He had gone in on a tip from Maggie and was just going to observe and follow until a misstep got him spotted and he barely escaped with a few dents in his new Guardian armor and a dislocated shoulder from jumping from a second-story window. Also, Kara thinks, really? Guardian? That's the name he is going with.  It annoyed Kara that he wanted the full body armor. It was much less stealthy and it was no wonder he got caught. Kara's anyonce must show on her face because Lena casts her a questioning glance. All of a sudden it's no longer the soft Lena in front of her. It's Lena Luthor, the hardened diva star and it makes Kara feel a little uncomfortable. Because it's not her Lena. Kara pushes the feeling aside and smiles back at her. When her team is done she shoos them out of the room and sits beside her on the couch.

“Okay, what's wrong? You keep disappearing to make phone calls and then coming back pissed.” Lena says as she pulls both of Kara's hands into her own, rubbing soothing circles with her thumbs. Kara chews her lip. She should just tell her. She should. But then Lena will get mad so she shouldn't do that right before her performance. She didn't want to fight right now because Kara knew it would be one, Lena was already pissed when she disappeared to save James the first time. They got so little time together and telling her would just ruin it.

“It's nothing. Just some issues with getting the business license and some other stuff like that. Winn is on it but it's just frustrating is all. I'm impatient to get started on it I guess.”

“That's all?”

Kara nods, biting her tongue. Lena begins playing with Kara's fingers to distract herself from the nagging feeling that Kara just lied to her. She knew it was her own trust issues projecting themselves.

“So after the concert, there is usually a party. I haven't been going to them but I didn't know if you wanted to.  I know you don't drink or anything but there is always music and dancing and famous people.”

“That sounds great Lee, I am always down for dancing and music.”

Lena grins and kisses her quickly before a knock on the door and Jess is calling Lena to the stage. The two women walk hand and hand until they get to Lena’s entrance point. Kara watches the whole performance off stage. Lena doesn't leave the stage once, although her dancers, backup singers, and instrumentalists do a couple times. The crowd is wild throughout the whole thing and even call her back out for an encore, which Lena indulges in after a heated, adrenaline-filled kiss, with Kara.

Once Lena is off stage for good, she is practically dragging Kara back to the dressing room and locking the door. Before Kara can even say a word, Lena’s hot mouth is on hers and she is tugging Kara’s shirt over her head and pushing her towards the couch. Lena’s tongue is pushing past Kara’s lips and Kara lets it slide against her own. Kara moans at the contact and her hands find Lena’s waist. Lena bites Kara’s lower lip and it causes her to moan again. Lena unbuttons Kara’s pants, pushing them and her underwear down before gently pushing Kara onto the couch. That’s the only thing Lena plans on doing gently. Lena moves to Kara’s neck, sucking and biting then soothing with her tongue. Kara was already fighting moans when Lena’s hand begins rubbing her lower lips as well. A finger slides into Kara’s already dripping sex and brushes her clit causing a choked cry to escape.

“Fuck Lena. Fuck.” Kara manages as Lena slips a finger inside. Kara digs her nails into Lena’s back and Lena is relishing it. Relishing fucking her girlfriend in her dressing room during her post-show adrenaline high. Lena adds another finger and sets a punishing pace, her thumb brushing Kara’s clit with each thrust. Kara is no longer holding back her moans as Lena sucks at the top of her soft breast still clad in a blue lace bra. Without warning, Kara stiffens under Lena and her inner muscles clamp down on Lena’s fingers. Lena keeps moving within her girlfriend, only slowing when she relaxes back into the couch cushions and the kisses her on the corner of the mouth. Kara was still panting slightly and sweat beads her forehead. Lena collapses next to her grinning wide at how hard she made Kara cum.

“Wow, that was… hot.” Kara manages while catching her breath. Lena laughs.

“Sorry, I get a little…”

“Horney?” Kara tries to supply.

“And assertive. After a show. And this is the first time I could do something about it.”

“Well, I’d like to return the favor.” Lena shakes her head.

“No time if we are going to make it to that after-party. And-” a knock on the door. “Right on time.” Lena stands and throws Kara’s shirt to her, still halfway across the room. Kara scrambles to pull on her pants and underwear and pull her shirt back on while Lena puts her own shirt back on. She unlocks the door and Gabrielle bursts in again. Immediately he begins spouting in French as he remakes Lena into a more casual look for a party. Once she is dressed in black leather pants, a black tank-top blouse, and black heels, Gabrielle pulls Kara to her feet before she can think to protest and is holding different shirts up to her.

“What is happening?” Kara asks Lena, who is smirking from her dressing chair.

“Gabrielle is of the impression that to be seen with me you need a wardrobe upgrade for tonight.”

“Umm… yeah, girly was never my thing.” Kara says as Gabrielle holds up a skimpy dress before quickly discarding it.

After a few more minutes of careful criticizing and more protests from Kara, she is dressed in something similar to their first date with the addition of a leather jacket. Both of their hair was styled up when Gabrielle learned they would be traveling on the rented bike. The man began muttering in French and Lena chuckled as she told Kara he was cursing her choice of transportation and that he works too damn hard for the wind to ruin it. Kara laughs kisses Lena just under her jaw, teeth grazing skin in a not so innocent way that causes Gabrielle to curse again and yell at Kara not to ruin either of their makeup as he leaves. Kara laughs and pulls Lena to her feet and they begin to make their way through the hallways to the back door where Jess had their bike waiting and as soon as the door is open, lights flash, almost blinding them. Reporters call to the star and her girlfriend, trying to get answers to trivial questions. Lena stops to sign some autographs for patient fans before Kara hands her the helmet and kicks the motorcycle to life. More cameras flash as they zoom off into the night. Lena gives instructions of where to go and they pull up outside a club with music pouring out the door with flashing lights. A long line wraps around the building and out of sight. Big burly men dressed in all blackguard the door behind a velvet rope. Kara backs the bike in right out front between two cars and holds out a hand to help Lena off before dismounting herself.

When they both remove their helmets, The paparazzi make themselves known as cameras flash just as bright as before. People actually waiting begin exclaiming and pointing and pulling out their own phones. Lena grabs Kara’s hand, easily folding their fingers together, and walks right up to the burly men, they unclip the rope without question and allow the two women to pass through. Lights and noise assault Kara’s senses and she tightens her grip on Lena’s hand.

This had never been Kara’s scene. She spent her whole life training and keeping her grades up because the Danvers would not let her fight if her grades suffered. So she stuck to curfew and stayed on the honor roll. After high school her schedule and diet were strict. She had champaign, once, when she was eighteen and Eliza allowed her a glass on New Year’s. Ever since the accident she hadn’t touched the stuff. Alex, of course, had gone the other way, nearly drinking herself out of a job before getting help as she mourned her father’s death. But she still drinks socially. Now, entering the club, she was assaulted with people in various stages of drunkenness, bodies pressed together, strobing lights, and throbbing bass. Lena notices Kara’s stiffness and pulls her closer to practically yell in her ear.

“Are you okay? We can leave and go to the hotel room. Maybe finish what we started earlier?” Kara closes her eyes and shivers at Lena’s hot breath on her neck and suggestive words. It was tempting, but Kara wanted to see all of Lena’s life.

“I’m fine. Just a lot to take in.” Kara shouts back. Lena still looks concerned but Kara rolls her eyes and kisses her, trying to convince her that her words were true. Lena accepts the kiss eagerly and then pulls Kara through the crowd. Lena cuts a path to stairs guarded by more burly men who don’t even glance at them. Upstairs, the music is less oppressive and they can look over the crowd on the main dance floor. Big booths rim the room along with a long bar with colorfully lit up shelves of alcohol. The dance floor changes color beneath the writhing bodies as the DJ oversees the music on a platform above them. The upstairs has smaller booths that have walls separating them for privacy. The bar is smaller but it will easily serve the needs of what Kara can assume are the VIP’s being catered to up here.

“Lena Luthor. About time you came to one of my clubs. I have only been inviting you ever since I found out you were on this side of the Atlantic.” The smooth seductive voice drips with smugness and Kara turns away from the sight below her to take in the tattooed woman in a red dress now standing in front of them.

“Veronica. Yes I thought it was time, besides my girlfriend is in town and I wanted to show her off.” Lena tightly wraps an arm around Kara and Kara instinctively puts an arm around her shoulders. She remembers what Lena told her, how Veronica was the first to break Lena's heart and used her. Kara wasn't jealous, but the need to protect Lena curled in her chest at Veronica's predator-like aurora. Veronica doesn't even spare Kara a glance.

“Oh yes, I've heard about the ex-boxer you were dating. Pictures all over the internet...”

“Mixed Martial Arts.” Kara interrupts whatever the woman was going to say next. Finally, the lithe woman turns to face Kara. Kara suppresses a shiver at her cold, attractive eyes.

“Beg pardon. Sports were never my strong suit. I'm afraid we haven't been properly introduced. I am Veronica Sinclair.” The women gracefully holds out a hand. Kara takes it after a moment's hesitation.

“I know. Kara Danvers.” Kara quickly releases her hand, ice in her voice that she tries to hide.

“Ah,” Veronica’s eyes flick to Lena’s, knowing that Kara knows at least some of their history.

“Well please enjoy yourselves. Tonight is on me, to celebrate an old friend’s success. Let any of my staff know if you need anything.”

Veronica walks away then and Kara separates to distance herself from Lena. Undefined emotions rolled in her stomach; anger, jealousy, hurt, uncertainty.  Kara turns back to the railing and watched the people below her. Lena gently approaches her again.

“I'm sorry. She owns like fifty clubs and casinos all over the world. I didn't realize she would be here. Her assistant and Jess were the ones planning the party.” Lena says just loud enough to be heard.

“I just… I don't like how she looked at you. And then knowing everything she did to you. And God, why did Jess agree to use her club then?” Frustration cresses Kara's brow and Lena tentatively reaches out, allowing Kara time to pull away, and grabs her hand.

“I should have at least warned you. But most of the A-list won't go anywhere else but a Sinclair Club. Do you want to go?”

“No. I want to dance with you.” Kara grins at Lena and jerks her head to the dance floor below them. Lena nods and Kara pulls her back down the stairs.

Kara weaves her way into the crowd until they are well in the middle of the strobing dance floor, people brush them on all sides but Lena presses into Kara. Almost every point that can touch, does. Lena throws her arms around Kara’s neck and pulls her close, swaying her hips against  Kara’s. Damn, Lena knows how to move. Kara was always a good dancer, she did show choir in high school and fighting meant she had to be light on her feet, but Lena, Lena was moving like seductrice and left little for Kara to imagine. After several songs, they escaped the crowd back to the upstairs bar. Kara got water while Lena got a whiskey on the rocks. She was just getting one because she was already very drunk on Kara, and horny.

For now, though, this was a party for her. Lena guides Kara from one group of people to the next. Each was filled with stars of various levels of famous but Kara was too distracted by Lena’s seemingly casual touches that sent fire through her body. Kara couldn’t take it anymore. When Lena set her empty glass on the bar and flagged down the bartender for another, Kara pinned her against it, molding herself to Lena’s back. Kara bent down to nibble on Lena’s earlobe, smirking at the sharp intake of breath she feels Lena take.

“Wanna get out of here?” Kara whispers into Lena’s neck, brushing her teeth along the soft pale skin.  A shiver runs through Lena and she turns in the strong arms holding her.

“Miss Danvers, are you trying to get in my pants?”

“Always. The way you moved on that dance floor, the way you keep teasing me, god, it has taken all my willpower not to fuck you right here against the bar.” Lena’s breathing picks up at Kara’s words. The bartender tries to hand Lena a full glass but she waves him off.

“Take me back to the hotel room.” Lena barely manages to get out in a shaky voice.

Kara eagerly makes her way through the loud and crowded club. She muscles a path for them through the ever-changing bodies, only pausing for a second for the outside guards to let them through. Kara picked up the helmets on the bike seat and hands one to Lena. Before Lena can put it on Kara pulls her into a deep kiss. It surprises Lena briefly but then she leans into it. Cameras flash, reporters call out, but the couple ignores them all. Kara pulls away and puts her helmet on, Lena does the same and climbs on the bike behind Kara, purposefully sliding a hand under her jacket while Kara navigates into traffic and then under her shirt to brush over the skin on Kara’s abs. Lena feels Kara’s breathing pick up, and then the speed of the bike.

Kara quickly hands the keys and their helmets to the sleepy looking valet and pulls Lena with her to the elevator. Once inside the empty lift, Kara pins Lena to the wall, hands immediately finding hips. Lips and teeth meeting in her pent up sexual tension. Kara pops the button on Lena’s pants and Lena catches her wrists.

“What are you doing?”

“Seeing how fast I can make you come. Think I can do it before the top floor?”

Heat spikes through Lena at the thought. Of Kara racing the clock and the goal to make Lena scream with pleasure. Lena releases her hands just to plunge them into golden hair, pulling it from the ponytail it was in. Kara is vicious in her pursuit. Diving straight into Lena’s underwear and into the slick heat that had been building all night. Lena was already on edge from the concert and dancing and the whiskey didn’t help either. Before ten floors past, she could feel pleasure coiling in her gut and Kara palmed her breast under her shirt and relentlessly attacked her neck. Suddenly, Kara Swoops up one of Lena’s legs and hooks it around her waist. Kara teases Lena’s entrance for just a moment before she feels Lena eagerly clench and dives a finger in, then two. This time was not about teasing. It was a race to make Lena cum. Kara hooks her fingers, searching and successfully finding the small rough patch and Lena cries out. Kara adds her thumb to Lena’s clit and reattaches her lips to her neck. Lena leans back and swings her other leg around Kara while one of Kara’s hands grabs her ass. Kara’s fingers hit deeper at the new angle and pleasure radiates through Lena’s whole body. It hits her like a tidal wave of pent-up energy and she screams Kara’s name. Her inner walls contract around Kara but she keeps moving, extending her orgasm until a soft ding and Lena opens her eyes, relieved to see an empty hallway between them and her door.

Kara slowly pulls her fingers out and puts her now freed hand under Lena’s other leg and begins to walk the hallway without putting her down. Lena whispers her room number in a hoarse voice. Kara nods and can’t manage to keep the smug grin off her face, knowing that hoarseness is from screaming Kara’s name. And knowing it wouldn’t be the first time tonight.

**

November  8th, 2017

Kara woke before Lena the next morning. Almost afternoon by the light pouring through the window. Kara just watched her breath while she lay on her side on an elbow. Lena looked so soft in the sunlight, on the white hotel sheets. Kara wanted this, wanted her. She knew she had to tell Lena. After all, Lena had let Kara in. Guilt still racked Kara, even in this beautiful moment. Lena blinked slowly and green eyes met blue. Lena smiled and Kara tried to match it. Lena noticed the hesitation and her brow furrowed.

“Kara? What’s wrong?” Lena props herself up on an elbow to match Kara, Kara reaches out and tucks a hair behind Lena’s ear and then cups her cheek. Lena Sighs and Leans into the touch.

“I...I have something I need to tell you. About me. But I…” Kara trailed off, feeling very unsure about this now that she was actually saying it out loud. Lena sits up fully, her legs tucked under her while the sheet falls away.

“Kara? What is it? Is it about us?” Kara can see the panic in Lena’s eyes and she sits up as well, grabbing her hands.

“God, no. Just me, but I don’t know how you would feel about it. Actually, I don’t think you would like it. But I think it would be better if I showed you because then you could see everything I have done. And how much it means to me. It means almost as much as you do so I hope you like it but it would just be better if-” Lena Kisses Kara to stop her rambling. It works.

“Okay. Then, after I visit with you and Eliza, you can tell me or show me or whatever. If this really means that much to you then I am sure I will like it.” Kara makes a face at that.

“Kara seriously. I now know that there is something you need to tell me. You aren’t lying. You have told me when you will tell me. Now, can we get back to the post-sex marathon bliss and just lie in this bed until my stomach growls.”

Kara smiles and nods, leaning back and holding her arms open for Lena to settle into. Lena tucks her head under Kara’s chin and wraps her arm around Kara’s waist while sliding one of her legs in between Kara’s. Lena lets out a deep breath and then she closes her eyes and feels Kara’s breathing even out as well. They stayed that way until around one when Kara was ‘starving’ and absolutely had to go get food. They headed out for the day and managed to avoid most cameras as they explored the city. The fourth day dawned too early with Jess bursting into Lena’s hotel room and both women scrambling to cover themselves while they listened to Lena’s itinerary which included dropping Kara off at the airport. But first, they took a shower.

Kara carefully worked the suds into Lena’s hair as Lena washed her own body. As Lena rinsed her hair, Kara greedily took the washcloth from her and began trailing it over Lena’s already clean torso, then trails her hands behind Lena and down to her ass, her beautiful, firm, ass.

“Careful Kara, don’t want you to start something you don’t intend to finish.”

“Oh, I intend to finish.”

Kara spun Lena so that the cool tiles cause Lena to gasp as she is pressed against them. Kara pins both Lena’s hands next to her head and kisses her deeply. Heat floods Lena’s body that is much different from the cascading water. Kara slides a leg between Lena’s thighs and presses up. Kara swallows Lena’s moan before moving down her jaw and to Lena’s pulse point. Kara sucks, hard.

“Kara…” Lena groans out a protest.

“I want to leave you something to remember me by,” Kara mumbles before biting down just hard enough to leave a mark and then soothing it with her tongue. Lena moans at the teeth scraping her skin and bucks against Kara’s thigh.

Kara releases both of Lena’s hands. One grabs her ass while the other snakes between their bodies. As Kara brushes past Lena’s clit, she bucks into Kara’s hand. Kara gently circles her entrance before plunging into her. Lena’s cry gets stuck in her throat and she pulls Kara’s head tighter to her neck and Kara switches sides mark the other side while thrusting in and out of Lena. Her cries were echoing off every surface of the bathroom and filling Kara’s ears. Kara adds another finger as she follows the curve of Lena’s neck, down her clavicle, and to the soft bouncing flesh of her full breast. She pulls a hardened nipple into her mouth and Lena gasps and throws a leg over Kara’s hip. Kara moans at feeling how deep she was in Lena’s hot, wet, heat. Kara begins rocking into her girlfriend and uses her own leg to leverage her fingers deeper and harder. Kara can feel Lena shaking, Kara pulls her closer just in time to pin her harder to the wall before she could fall. Lena pulls Kara up to kiss her briefly before her mouth falls open in a silent scream as Lena squeezes her fingers hard. Kara stills and buries her face in Lena’s shoulder and tries to control her own breathing as she focuses on not rocking into her still recovering girlfriend.

Laughter bubbles up from Lena in her post-orgasm bliss. Kara slowly removes her fingers and Lena grunts another moan. Lena misses her finger’s already. Lena takes a deep breath before kissing Kara. She moves kara to the back wall of the shower, out of the stream of water. The whole bathroom had filled with steam as the hot water continued to run, heating the whole room. Kara’s back hits the wall and Lena enthusiastically begins kissing down Kara’s body. She knows they are running out of time before Jess will burst in with her extra key to hurry them along. Lena kisses each breast before continuing down. Each open-mouthed kiss sending more shivers through Kara. Watching Lena come undone put her on edge, it always puts her on edge. Lena kisses her navel, tongue poking into her belly button and causing Kara to moan and her hips to jut forward. Lena smiles and continues on her path, slowly lowering herself to her knees.

Lips brush soft blonde hair and Lena can feel the heat pouring out of Kara. Lena grips Kara’s hips and her tongue parts Kara’s slit and hits her swollen clit. Kara cries out and pulls Lena in closer by her hair. Lena happily obliges and begins eating Kara out with a gusto. Licking, sucking, grazing teeth.

“I’m so close Lee, oh God, I’m gonna… gonna… ugh.” Kara comes, hot and wet, over Lena’s chin. Lena pulls back then places a soft kiss on Kara’s mound before standing and kissing her girlfriend on the lips. Kara makes a low noise in her throat at the taste of herself on Lena’s lips.

“Nuh-uh. Jess will be back very soon. We have to actually finish showering and pack.” Kara groans in a much less sexual way before gently pushing Lena’s hair back and smirking, admiring her handy work. Bruises were already starting to form, red and blotchy with dark purple spotting the surface. It would take days, if not weeks to go away.

“You didn’t,” Lena says, looking at Kara skeptically.

“I did. I think it's safe to say Gabrielle will officially hate me.” Lena groans and thumps her head down on Kara’s shoulder. Kara laughs and wraps her arms around Lena before turning off the shower.

**

November 9th, 2017

Of course, when Kara returns to National City, newsstands are plastered with various rumor magazines with pictures of her and Lena. Some from her meet and greet, more of them getting on the motorcycle to and from the party, and some of them saying goodbye at the airport. Despite Lena’s best efforts, Kara can still make out a slight purplish patch on the side of Lena’s neck, which was zoomed in on one of the magazines. That made her smile when she was walking to get coffee during a break from painting the future welcome desk for her gym. Her gym. She was so excited for this. She never realized that this was something she wanted to do until she had the ability to do it. Sure she had fleeting thoughts about it because who wouldn’t when that’s where you spend most of your life. Now she was going to have something that's hers. Something permanent. There were two more floors that her and Winn were thinking of turning into apartments or something to rent out when they had the money. Winn had co-signed the lease and the loan. He was her partner for everything. Winn was the best. Kara didn’t ask too many questions about how he was getting all the money but he made it pretty clear that it was mostly legal.

‘The Power Factory’ would be up and running soon, hopefully. It would be hard, and she most likely would only be able to see Lena a few more times until the tour was over and they went to visit Eliza. A bubbly happy feeling started in Kara’s chest at that. Lena was willing to meet her foster mom, that was such a big step. Kara could not have been happier.

[son-of-the-omega-blog]

#SL #PlayTime 

#TriggerWarning #Abuse #Violence #Torture 

 Written by @Son_OfThe_Omega and @ToTheGrahve

Mentions @OffKeyDeviant @Qhuinn_BDBFM @Dehstruction

*~*~*~*~*

Grahve: Every breath hurt. Granted, that probably had something to do with the knife that’d punctured my lung like a fucking balloon. My blood was a flavor I was tired of tasting, but every rattled breath only pushed more of it up my throat. I wanted to hurl, but the gag in place made me fight the reflex. The bag over my head wasn’t much better.

I could still see the look in his eyes. The sheer, unparalleled delight as he’d buried that blade to the hilt, savoring my shock and horror. My fists clenched in the chains holding them above my head, the soft rattle the only sound other than my labored breathing. Fury licked through me, and only half of it was toward the male who’d trapped me. The other half was all for me.

How could I have been so stupid… I wasn’t sure what was worse; the fact I’d become so emotionally compromised and entangled, or the fact it had led me to make one poor decision after another. Until I was here, in what had to be a Lesser hideout, if the smell was anything to go by, bag or no bag. Yet the male who’d lured me, flirted with me, had definitely ‘not’ been one of the Omega’s minions. No matter how emotionally blind I was, there was no masking that rot.

Which meant…

I closed my eyes beneath the bag and tried not to sag in the chains, my mind turning over the only possible conclusion and feeling my dread curdle into nausea.

Lash.

The son of the Omega. The one who hounded the Brotherhood and sought to destroy them. The one who’d helped corrupt Blaylock. The one who’d kidnapped and tortured an angel.

No wonder he’d looked so pleased with himself as I’d choked and struggled. I’d never seen his face before. Never known his scent. A trainee so oblivious to who he was had wandered into his web. And now here I was. Helpless. And furious.

Lash: [Watching the male hang as each breath cost him valuable energy, I gave myself a pat on the back. Ever since my little encounter with Queen Beth, the Brotherhood has been totally ghost on the streets of Caldwell. And it left me quite bored. When I'd walked into the club tonight, I hardly expected to come out with such a prize. Granted the male wasn't a Brother, but still, a trainee was better than offing civilians all night as a draw.

The look of shock on Grahve’s face was worth the effort as the knife incapacitated him, but it didn’t stop the male from trying to get his own pound of flesh. Even unarmed, the male had made a formidable opponent based on pure spirit alone. The few hits he managed to connect with would have been enough to loosen the teeth of any civilian, but I didn't have time to waste playing the games of posturing young.

The struggle in the alley lasted less than a minute before I had tucked the half-conscious male into a stolen car, courtesy of some halfwit human who’d left the vehicle not only unlocked but with the keys tucked into the visor.

The longer than necessary ride looped around the south of Caldwell, dumping us at a dead end road turned narrow deer path that led deep into the woods. Steel chain link fencing surrounded the new compound wasn't just to keep the wildlife from setting off the motion sensors and cameras; any errant nosy human who happened to get too curious for their own health would have found themselves on the business end of a shovel, six down. Not that it would be hard to disappear a body out here, but time was a commodity I didn't want to extend if I didn't have to.

The few Lessers I had around the place served as my watchdogs, the beyond-pale fuckers that had been inducted many decades ago were the last of my Prime squads, well seasoned and hungry for Brotherhood blood. New recruits were being added weekly, courtesy of the Omega, the last of the more experienced Lessers in charge of their training.

Leaving the knife in the male's side during transport was a game; he wouldn't have been able to dematerialize regardless, but it was fun to watch him squirm and pant for breath each time I reached over and gave the blade a twist. I upped the ante and added the element of darkness via a black hood over his head. One more sense of his compromised. Even more so as I strung him up in chains and lifted him until he was barely balanced on the balls of his feet. I was letting gravity do the rest of the heavy work on Grahve's muscles. The pull would only serve to weaken him further, and unlike the angel, sunlight wasn't going to miraculously bring him back to near full health. No, the male would need a female's blood for that.]

Tell me. How's mine cousin, Qhuinn. Still besotted with the fair Chosen Layla? Or has he turned to finding new bed partners?

[Circling the deadweight with a grim smirk, I reached out and jabbed the male's wounded side with a hard fist.]

Grahve: Holy. Fucking. Hell.

The pain that erupted up my side threatened to send me night night, right before it caused a spasm to tear apart my lungs. I coughed, spluttered, the gag and the hood catching a mouthful of blood. My body struggled to cope as I pulled back against the chains keeping me up, away from where the hit had come from. But with the hood, I was helpless to predict Lash’s next hit. Not that I thought I’d be conscious after a second hit to my ruined lung...

By the time the agony had faded to a dull roaring throb, his question finally registered. I’d never felt my fangs grate against a gag before, the sensation uncomfortable even as a weak growl rumbled in my chest. Which I also regret. Immediately.

I tasted more blood and forced myself to calm down. But the idea that Lash was still gunning for Qhuinn made my blood boil. Regardless of how I felt, of what had happened between him, me, Crhis… all of it, I’d die before I let this miserable prick hurt them. And hey, whaddaya know, if he kept sticking me like a pin cushion and hitting the flesh around it, that death was all but guaranteed in a very short timeline.

I could feel his amusement, his utter delight at my helplessness, and if anything it fueled my rage, my defiance, until I was straightening and clenching my fists in their manacles. My chest hurt like a mofo, but it was all I could do until the gag came out and I could tell him a hearty ‘fuck you’.

Lash: [So, /that/ little query got a reaction from the trainee. Qhuinn must have been tapping more than one ass if this male was so reactive to mere questions. Did this hanging piece of meat know my oversexed cousin had impregnated a Chosen, I wondered; he had to have known. Layla paraded that swollen belly around like the trophy she was. She must have certainly had the young by now. Or dropped into the Fade on her birthing bed. Pacing around the dangling and gagged bit, I had to give him a small props for ‘hanging’ in there.]

Oh, wait. [Leaning in close to the male's ear, my voice was a harsh just-above-whisper.] Let me see if I'm reading this sitch right. Qhuinn gave the fair Chosen more bed time than you, so you turned to bedding another… [Inhaling deep only confirmed the stronger scent of another, a male.] … male.

[Just a guess, even with the scent of the trainee Qhuinn had been making eyes at all over Grahve, it wasn't too much of a stretch because I knew Qhuinn to be a possessive male that liked to take things too far.]

And mine cousin didn't appreciate the turn of your.. [Grabbing the back of the hood and jerking it off the male's head, the cold anger blowing off him in waves, hurt evident in his eyes as he twisted, bloodied and bruised before me.] .. attention to another. So you decided to drink away your broken heart. [Reaching out and cupping the male's face in a firm grip then patting his cheek hard, I slid fingers back to loosen the gag.]

Grahve: Layla. Hearing a Chosen’s name on Lash’s filthy lips made my skin crawl, but I wasn’t about to correct him on the little scenario he’d invented in his head. Especially if it kept my partner off his radar. Instead I narrowed my eyes at him as the hood was torn away.

It didn’t seem fair that someone so evil had a face like that. I’d never wanted to break something beautiful so badly in all my life. The memory of his lips on mine, of the way he pressed down my body and made me ‘feel’...

I spat out a wad of blood and spit the second the gag was gone, and whatever self preservation instincts I had left kept me from spitting it ‘on’ him. Though the temptation was definitely fucking there.

“Congratu-fucking-lations. You have it all figured out. Go you,” I sneered, wishing I’d had a lot more to drink. Maybe then it would numb the pain that was sure to follow. “I’d pin a gold star on your collar but I’m a little tied up right now. So how bout you fuck right off and do it yourself? There’s a good lad.”

In my head I ran down my list of options. Insulting Lash for as long as possible definitely made the list, and pretty close to the top I might add. Holding out for a rescue, though, was pretty far /down/. The nausea in my gut curdled into a dread realisation as I recalled the Lockdown, the fact that no one was supposed to be out on rotation at the moment to even notice me not showing up, and that after everything with Crhis and Qhuinn? No one was going to be looking for me…

A spark lit up my nerves. The realisation was so bright I struggled to keep it off my face, out of my eyes, so Lash didn’t see the kindling of hope.

Adrian.

The angel would surely notice I was gone… right? I’d made a promise to stay put and broken it. Sure, he might look for me back at the manse, but if I didn’t turn up he’d raise the alarm. The Brothers… they’d at least know the scent of Lash. Realise, maybe, what had happened. And even if they didn’t find me before I died… it soothed something jagged in me to know they’d at least be looking. That someone, somewhere, cared enough to notice I was gone.

“Considering how fancy you like your clothes,” I tried again, looking around, “I thought maybe you’d have a nicer place. Dad not covering your costs?”

Lash: [Pacing behind the male, my hand snapped out to grip the male's throat and tip his head back, his breath staining from the tension as I spoke.]

Oh I got more than a gold star. [My tongue slid up the side of his neck tasting anger, anguish, and a fainter hint of fear. Now that he'd figured out who /I/ was, most of the arrogance had been knocked out of his sails. Hence the hint of fear.]

You were more than willing to give it to me, weren't you… you cannot deny that scent of fucking you were giving off.  The male you'd been fucking must have been quite the tasy little treat. [A slow, hard bite to his ear, fangs drawing that much more blood, coupled with a rut of my hips against his ass for emphasis and I stepped back around to face the trainee, brushing my hands off.] And yet you went to the club looking for more ways to drown yourself.

[I hadn't missed his initial outburst made, I barely contained the giddy feeling inside, and grinned fiendishly at the way his body tensed and grew cold at the mention of the Chosen and his sappy broken heart. I knew I'd hit a low sore spot that I could use to against him.

Ignoring his baiting comments about my attire -mental note to swap out to leathers once I'd returned to the compound, no sense in ruining an Armani- I delivered a hard fist to his fine nose, the burst of fresh coppery iron wafting across the breeze as it dripped in rivulets down his chin.]

See? We're going to have lots of fun.

Grahve: The feel of his tongue against my neck earned a disgusted shudder, my stomach revolting even as I swallowed down a fresh wave of bile. I barely felt it as his fangs pierced my ear, blood scenting the air. His hips bucking against mine brought to mind all the ways we might’ve tangled in the sheets, when I’d been willing, and the reality was so much worse. What would the Brothers say? I’d been about to fuck the enemy… Sweet Scribe… and all because I’d let myself fall for and give a shit about the males in that manse.

What had I become?

Trying to shake off the darkness that flooded every molecule of my miserable being, I adopted a sneer, forcing myself to remember the times I’d been completely alone in the world and survived. I could be that guy again.

“Next time I’ll just look for ways to actually drown. Probably a better outcome than ‘this’ one,” I point out coolly.

My last smart ass comment. Right before he broke my nose.

My head snapped back. I tasted blood. As I blinked through the haze and the pain, I sagged forward and spat a fresh mouthful onto the floor. Well, mostly the floor. Pretty sure a nice bit of it landed on his pants. And shoes. N’awwww…

“No wonder you weren’t in the training program long…” I panted and heaved in a breath with a broken, bloody smile, “what with a weak ass punch like that…”

Lash: Think you're funny? [The mangy fuck had the audacity to chuck a mouthful of blood at me. Growling low, I spun the male around and drove my fingers into the knife wound, pushing deep until his body swung off the ground and something popped and the male cried out.

Movement at the doorway barely registered enough to draw my attention away and only served to piss me off even more. The growl that tore from my throat spoke only one word to the brainless fuck that had the balls, -figuratively-, to interrupt me. Death.

Liquid energy rolled down my arm, pooling in my bloodied hand as I turned to decimate the motherfucker that dared interrupt my playtime. The lesser stood his ground but the fear dripped off him like a sliced carotid. In his hands shook a female body, a black canvas hood bunched around her head and shoulders, doing nothing to staunch her whimpers.]

You're fucking lucky, you know that. [The immediate impact of the sudden additional present hit me, a smirk kicking up the corner of my mouth as I glanced at the strung up trainee. Oh yes, this was going to work so much faster this way. She wasn't a Chosen, but female blood was female blood.]

String her up. [Pointing with just a look, the Lesser nodded without a word and did as told. The female's struggled, nearly freeing herself when her body suddenly slumped, loose-limbed, the lesser having knocked her cold with a fist to the temple. A hoarse growl and muffled rattle of chains fueled my smirk.]

Oh wait. [I glanced at the male dangling by his wrists and then at the female and back to the hanging meat.] My bad. Where are my manners. Are you thirsty?

Grahve: I didn’t know pain like this existed without unconsciousness following. As Lash buried his fingers in my flesh my whole body jerked and twisted to escape it. I wasn’t even aware I was doing it, every animal instinct in me screaming to get away when something gave out. Probably a lung.

The room swam as blessed darkness crept into the edge of my vision. But it didn’t linger. As Lash withdrew, my mind returned. It was just in time to catch the whimpers of a woman - a female. My spine stiffened, my fingers curling into fists in their chains.

Of course. The lock down. With no Brothers on the street, Lash had free reign on the species. Nausea coiled in my gut as I watched him tie her up, and when she resisted, the demon struck. She crumpled as a snarl bubbled up my throat, wound be damned.

“You don’t seriously think I’d take blood from some helpless female?” I growled, glaring, furious at my helplessness. How was I supposed to help her when I couldn’t even help myself right now? It didn’t matter if her blood would heal… me…

I closed my eyes and dropped my head.

It doesn’t matter if I don’t want to… He’ll force feed me if it means he gets to keep playing. The idea is revolting.

“…it doesn’t matter if I say no, does it?” I mutter blackly, disgust laced through every word.

Lash: [Ignoring the trainee’s disgust, though I don’t know why, the female wasn’t bad on the eyes except for the fat lip and swollen eye and she smelled fucking delicious, I indicated to the Lesser he needed to make sure she was easily within reach without having to loosen her bonds. There was little chance of her finding escape, but it was better to overly cautious. Past experiences were still biting my ass in the form of the Omega each time we had those sire-son talks.]

Absolutely, I think that you’ll do it willingly even.

[Stalking over to the female and gripping her chin, tugging it up enough to confirm she was still indeed alive, I let the supple slumping of her unconsciousness hang from her place near the trainee and stepped back to admire my haul without giving anything away. This was going to change my plans only slightly, in the manner that I’d be able to keep the trainee longer than I first anticipated. If my Lessers could obtain another female within a few days, unharmed enough to be of use, I’d be able to send the Brotherhood quite the set of messages. Piece by fucking piece.]

And if you want the female to live beyond the next rising sun, I suggest you feed when you’re told to.

Grahve: I wanted to curse, to snarl my disbelief; as if he wasn’t going to kill her - fuck - kill us both, but what other option did I have? If I refused… he killed her now. If I took her vein, maybe I got enough strength to get us out of this. Maybe I buy us both time.

Biting back the slew of responses, all of which would probably go down about as well as a lead balloon, I went with the smart option. Even as my insides shrivelled in repulsion and shame.

“Fine.”

The word tasted nasty as I dropped my gaze to the blood spattered floor. My blood. It dribbled down my side as I heaved in a breath through the agony of a burst lung. And my broken nose.

“But let’s not kid ourselves…” The words slipped out even as a small part of my brain screamed to STFU. I met his gaze again. “How long are you gonna do this before you get tired of me? I’m just a toy for you to play with till I break, right? Then let’s get it over with. Just do it.”

Lash: [Strolling back to face the male, I gave a minute nod to the Lesser that had positioned himself behind the trainee. The pale fucker began cutting away the male’s clothes, starting with his shirt.]

Looks like it hurts.

[Grinning, I eyed the jagged edges of the bright red and purple wound as he was stripped down. And thought of the angel Lassiter. How his scars were MY mark on his body. Scars I created, a signature of sorts. What kind of signature could I put on the trainee? Mentally waving it off, I knew it would come to me when the time was right.

The male’s body was definitely impressive, well muscled and lean, as a fighter’s body should be. Once he’d been stripped of all his clothing, the bloodied pile on the floor.. wait, was that.. Tipping my head a bit, my grin pulled the smirk routine. He was blushing! Face flushed, aside from the fact of how pale he was starting to look from blood loss, there was no mistaking the traineed was embarrassed at being so exposed.]

Oh come now. [Chuckling darkly, I hardly ficked a finger toward the hanging female and the Lesser that had bared the male’s body of annoying restrictions now worked the same effortless theme on the female.]

I’m sure she’s seen a naked male before, though maybe not one of your particularly appealing form. She’ll be honored to offer you her vein. If she wakes in time.

Grahve: Being left bare before the Brotherhood’s greatest enemy brought whatever blood I had left to my face. I tried not to shift in the restraints and give the game away, but as his eyes raked over me like I was a meal, he smirked and knew. Fuck. Like this could get worse…

My lip lifted in a snarl that bared my fangs (probably the last thing of me that had actually been covered) as the Lesser set about stripping the female.

“Leave her alone. Whatever you wanna do to her, do to me! She’s a /civilian/, right? Not a fighter. Not a warrior. It’s beneath you to hurt her,” I bit out, somehow averting my eyes as the female body was bared, every curve and slender muscle. “Or are you so low I should be shocked you don’t slither and crawl?”

Hey, provoking him probably wasn’t my best idea, but if it drew even a lick of attention away from the female, I’d do it again. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go; me helpless and watching some poor female be strung up and humiliated.

Lash: Who do you think I practice on? [I spoke without taking my eyes off the male, the illborne wickedness boiling under the gossamer surface of my form. Even without being consciously aware of what fueled the process, John Mathew had been my first directive. I had paid, and was still paying, for fucking that one up; the Omega never forgave for incompetance no matter the reason.

So I put into practice what I gleaned from each call ‘home’ to my sire. While it was never a fun visit, I did take away new skills to cultivate for my own use. It took too much energy to reanimate my own Lessers in the beginning, so I used whoever they, or I, managed to capture. Like the Chosen Layla. Now /she/ was one that never should have escaped. The Lesser that gave her the opportunity still decorated the wooded copse I’d blasted his carcass across. Or the more frequent random males and females of the species. Human rats were overlooked for the obvious reasons that they would never survive the capture. Let alone a single day/night under my hand.

Realigning my thoughts with the here and now, I waved a dismissal to the pale fuck who was eyeing the naked female with too much drool dripping down his chin at the malicious hunger brewing in his mind. With a sneering smirk, the Lesser skulked back to the corner of the room to await further orders. Just because they were impotent, didn’t mean that the desire to cut and kill died off as well.

The trainee’s compassion for the female negated his own need for survival. But this wouldn’t do. He needed to make the choice to fight to live. Even at the expense of another should the choice come to it, which I’d make sure it would. Many, many times.

Stalking back to the work bench along the far wall I picked up a long flat blade and returned to stand before the female, keeping the male at the edge of my vision. The sharp steel glinting under the lights as I held it up, admiring the razor honed edge before pressing it to the female’s throat deep enough to draw a nice, slow but steady rivulet of blood to run down her neck between her ample breasts.]

Do you think you can stop it before she bleeds out? [I mused to myself, turning to the feral-eyed fury that was the male strung up in chains and licked the blade clean.]

Grahve: As the blade cut into her flesh I felt two things. One, that I hated myself for wanting her blood, and two, that I now knew such hatred that I would gladly lose almost every limb if it meant the last one could plunge a knife into that bastard’s heart.

Her blood perfumed the air the longer it ran, from her throat, all the way down to her naval and down her leg to her toes. My body hungered for it in my injured state, and with sheer force of will alone I made myself focus on Lash. He watched me, watched every emotion that played out on my face, and I found myself wishing I was more like Vishous, or Zsadist, two Brothers who knew how to hide every thought, feeling or desire. Why couldn’t they have taught a fucking class on /that/?

“What, with my tongue?” I glanced at the red river with a flash of panic and wanted to punch something. Pulling at my own restraints - and boy, didn’t that remind me of the whole gauntlet my body had already run - I leant in closer to the female, breathing in her scent. “She won’t die. It’s not enough…”

I somehow managed to regret the words the instant they were out of my mouth. Because even a statement of fact, or a general denial, would undoubtedly seem like a challenge to the demon spawn. The fresh burst of anxiety, the fear that he would suddenly pull that knife back up and whip it across her throat until I was sprayed in blood, opened my mouth.

“Forget it, you’re right. Let me stop the bleeding!” I pulled at my restraints until I could put my lips to the wound, and even as a mouthful, or two, slid down my throat, I lapped my tongue over the wound, trying to seal it.

I closed my eyes, trying to ignore Lash, ignore my body and the need that was burning inside it, even as the blood started to slow. My fangs scraped against her skin and my stomach snarled, a growl bubbling up my throat. Then I was trying to pullback, my tongue running over the wound.

Lash: Come on, you can reach her. Come on. [The encouragement was sincere enough, I /did/ want to see if he could make it on his own; the pulley system which they’d both been rigged to was movable to any place in the building with the right adjustments. The trainee didn’t disappoint. But I had doubts, I really did. For all of five seconds. And I’d been ready to follow through and gut the female from chin to belly if the male hadn’t stepped up when he did.

I shuffled around the two in a macabre dance, watching the male’s throat work the blood down as quickly as he could, his efforts trying to stop the flow in spite of the need, his body’s need, to keep drinking. I could have played this out far longer than was formally necessary, but I did so enjoy a little drama after a long dry spell. This was merely play time, a warm up session for when the Royal family came to visit. I absolutely could /not/ disappoint King Wrath upon his arrival.

As Grahve’s throat slowed, the working of his jaw indicating he was finished, though I knew he would need more than a few little sips to heal properly, I reached over and patted him on the shoulder for effort.]

Such a valiant effort. Bravo my friend. Bra-vo. See? It wasn’t as difficult as you made it seem. [I paced around the pair once, twice, the female slowly beginning to come to with mumbled whimpers and moans.] Are you sure you’ve had enough?

Grahve: Feeling Lash’s hand on my skin in a fashion that wasn’t torturous was, in itself, a kind of torture. My skin crawled as I shifted away from him, not wanting the contact, the camaraderie sensation. Crhis was my partner. The Brothers my allies. I didn’t want Lash’s praise.

I ignored his question to stare at the female, leaning in slightly.

“Hey, are you okay? My name’s Grahve. Can you hear me?”

I shot Lash a filthy look as the female mumbled and groaned, barely coherent as she struggled in her restraints and shifted in the puddle of her blood on the floor. She seemed to notice that - notice that she was naked straight after. A shudder went through her, then a kind of sob. My chest ached for her; that she’d been dragged into this shithole.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay, I’m here with you,” I murmured, wishing her blood wasn’t still on my lips, helping seal the hole in my lung. “Can you tell me your name?”

Lash: Looks like she’s not that into you, Grahve. [Doing a back n’ forth between the two, I wrapped an arm around both waists, ignoring the fact that the female was starting to really wake up now. The weak tugging on the chains was indicative of the minor blood loss and likely the blow to her head and the trainee’s encouraging tone.]

But don’t worry, I’ll send my boys out to find you something a little more fresh and easier on the eyes. [With that promise, silent shock painted the male’s face, his half-strangled cry caught in his throat as the hot red scent of iron dripped down his face, his chest and thighs. The female’s struggles were more erratic now, twitching really.]

Grahve: Red. It had a smell. I was covered in it. The taste of her was all over me. Her body writhed in front of me. Her throat was a gaping hole. Blood spurted, oozed, trickled and spilled.

“Shit…”

It was the only word that came out. She looked at me, the light in her eyes dying. Betrayal flickered there. Why was she dying. Why was I alive. Why was Lash still holding me…

Bile rose in my throat as I tried to wrench away. From him. From her. I’d failed her. As she gasped her last breath I knew I’d remember the sound until I died.

Hopefully it’d be soon…

[andremarcusburky]

The silent treatment - N.P.

A/N: chad seemed fitting. thats all I have to say.

Plot: Nolan messes up when he’s trying to defend you and you get angry, for all the right reasons. 

masterlist

Every year in late June was a national holiday for you and your friends. Sarah’s birthday was always a big one. Your friend was known for hosting amazing parties, and nothing could top her own birthday. This year you brought your boyfriend for the first time.

You’d been getting ready for ages as it seemed, and Nolan quickly grew impatient. “We’re already late, Y/N. It’s your best friend so shouldn't you be there?” he asked you. Nolan was laying in the couch on his phone, ready to go since an hour ago. You sipped from your drink before answering him.

“If it says the party starts at ten it really means eleven as earliest. Besides we had a birthday lunch for her as well, she’s happy as she could be” this was the way every year. Lunch mid day and then leave Sarah to it, she always had busy birthdays. You didn’t really get it, if it’s her birthday then she shouldn’t have to do all the work. You’d once tried to convince her to let you guys host her party, but she knew exactly how she wanted things. So, that was a hard no.

Sarah was really ‘out there’, she loved being center of attention. But don’t get it wrong, she’s not one of those people you hate for it. She’s probably the best friend anyone could ever have, the most caring and loving person there is. No one could ever make you feel better about yourself than Sarah.

Nolan sighed loudly as you made your finishing touches. “Calm down, I'm done in like two minutes.”

You left about half an hour later, Nolan basically had to drag you out of the house while telling you how perfect you already looked. He was annoying, but really sweet.

The party was almost in full swing as you arrived, so perfect timing. Sarah lived in quite the big apartment downtown, since she still lived at home with her rich parents. They were staying at a hotel for the occasion, something that seemed to have become a tradition for them as well. You went into the kitchen and immediately spotted your friends, Sarah among them. You quickly ran up behind her, attacking her from behind with a big hug. “Happy birthday, again!”

Sarah laughed as she turned around and wrapped you up in her arms. She then turned to give Nolan a hug as well. All your friends approved of him, luckily enough. He’d been worried about your parents, but truth is you really didn’t care about their opinions. Your friends was all that mattered. He passed the test though.

After a few minutes of your friends teasing you and Nolan, he got swept up by some hockey fans who wanted him to play beer pong. Nolan gave you a big smirk before kissing your forehead and heading off.

“Does he have a brother?” one of your friends asked. You laughed as she wiggled her eyebrows at you. “Sorry, only sisters”

Sarah was suddenly lifted up into the air by a tall frame behind her. She squealed before she was set down again, the guy behind her smiling brightly. “Happy birthday” he laughed as she punched his arm lightly. “Don’t scare me like that, Chad!”

‘Chad’ then greeted everyone. Apparently he went to uni with Sarah and he seemed like a sweet guy. “I’m thinking double date” you whispered into Sarahs ear, causing her to roll her eyes.

Sarah then had to run away to stop someone from ruining her couch, leaving you with one of your friends and Chad. At first everything seemed fine, until your friend left and you were alone with him. It took him approximately 0.1 seconds to put his arm around you and close your exits off.

He still probably thought he was coming off as charming, but your eyes were searching the room for help, and for Nolan. No one seemed to notice your stares though.

“I have to say, that dress looks amazing on you” the smirk on his face made you sick to your stomach. You replied with a short ‘thanks’ and averted your gaze once again, trying to send him an obvious message. “But you’d look better without it”

Something was seriously wrong with this guy’s brain. Does he think you appreciate comments like that? Does he think girls in general will jump his dick when he says something like that?

You quickly tried to move away from him, and you actually managed to get out of the closed off space. But once you got passed him, he quickly grabbed your arm and pulled you close. Before you even had time to react, his mouth was on yours.

You tried desperately to push him off, but he was a lot stronger than you. You used all the force you had to give one final push to his chest, finally managing to free yourself from his grasp. But doing so, you also stumbled back and straight into someone. This someone easily caught you, saving you from falling on your ass. You looked up to see a familiar face, the one you’d been looking for only moments prior.

Nolan looked angry, like he was ready to kill even. A few people in the room had caught on to the situation and were now watching, waiting for something to break out.

Nolan moved in front of you, his grip was surprisingly gentle on your arm as he guided you to stay behind him.

“What? You got a boyfriend? I can take him” Chad cockily said. This guy really was fucked up. Sure, Chad wasn’t small or anything, but Nolan was noticeably bigger. You should probably add the fact that Nolan plays in the NHL, and has fought before. Several times. Chad might not be aware, though.

Nolan then responded with a laugh. ”I don’t think you can” he said, a small grin appeared on his face as well. More people had joined at the scene. You gently grabbed a hold of Nolans arm to try and calm him down. The last thing you wanted was for him to fight, especially when someone could record it and spread online.

”Really? Winner gets the girl” Chad said. Nolans laugh rang in your ears, he took a step forward. “Sure”. It took you a few seconds to register what was coming out of his mouth.

”What? No!” you yelled at the both of them. ”What? I can take him Y/N, don’t worry” Nolan looked back at you, smirk still present on his face.

”Of course you can but I’m not a fucking trophy!” you yelled angrily. The alcohol in your veins got the upper hand as you stared in disbelief at your boyfriend.

”Oh come on, sweetcheeks. I’ll take him and then I’ll take you home. Doesn’t that sound good?” Chad spoke confidently. Did he really not get that he was going to loose? Big time.

”Get lost you asshole” you replied, still angry as hell. You grabbed Nolans arm and dragged him out of there before anything else happened. You could hear Chad yelling something behind you, but you really didn’t care. Sarah was going to have to forgive you for leaving her party this early, but she was sensible. She’d get it.

The elevator ride down was quiet. Nolan knew better than to speak when you were this angry. The minute the doors opened you charged out into the summer breeze and wailed at a cab. Nolan followed and got in after you as you told the driver your address.

Your boyfriend hated the silent treatment, but there was nothing he could do about it at this point. The two of you stayed quiet for the entire way home. You kept your gaze set on whatever was outside the window and Nolan kept looking between his hands and you. You weren’t sure what was on his mind, or if he even realized his mistake.

The taxi stopped outside your apartment-building and Nolan was quick to pay the driver before you got the chance. Not bothering to argue at this point, you jolted out of the vehicle and moved towards the elevator. You figured Nolan would go home, but just before the elevator-doors closed, he just managed to slip inside.

The silence was suddenly louder than ever as you refused to even look at him, it took a few more seconds before Nolan finally said something.

”Come on, talk to me at least” he spoke silently, just loud enough for you to hear. You turned to him slowly, but didn’t answer. The look on his face was pained, but as the doors opened at your floor you made your way out without a second thought. You knew he’d follow you, though.

”Why are you so mad? I stood up for you, I was ready to fight him for you” so he clearly didn’t get what he did wrong. You were mad beyond words at this point, furious if you may. Scrambling with the keys, you tried to open the door to your place, quite aggressively so. It didn’t work though, your hands were actually shaking. Getting even more infuriated by this, you threw the keys at the ground and turned to your boyfriend.

”Fight for me as in the winner gets me, that’s what you were going to do. I’m not a trophy! You can’t fight and win me, Nolan! I am with whoever i wanna be!” you yelled, tears now spilling out of your eyes. Mostly from frustration, but also from being hurt by the one you love most. He bent down and picked up the keys, unlocking and opening the door for you. That’s the least he can do to be honest. You walked inside and threw your jacket off, kicking your shoes off as well, letting them fly wherever.

”But i would’ve taken him.. do you really think I’d loose against that dickhead?” Nolan tried to argue. He closed the door behind him but kept his sorry gaze on you. You turned around again to face him.

”I know! I fucking know you’d win, Nolan! But you’re completely missing the point! The moment he suggested you’d fight with me as a fucking prize, you should’ve said no! You should’ve said that i choose whoever i wanna go home with on my own, because I’m a fucking human being!” He stayed silent now, the air thicker than ever. You looked at him in disbelief, expecting him to say something. But nothing came out of his mouth. You felt your heart rate slow down as you got a little calmer.

”You should’ve been the one to tell him that i can’t be won. But you just agreed to it, with no question. I’m not something you can deal out on the table when you wanna gamble a little, even if you know you’ll win. I’m a person, and i thought you saw me as that” you spoke more quietly now, slower. Tears were still running down your cheeks, and he didn’t say anything. Nolan just looked at you, arms hanging beside his body.

Instead of saying anything else, you walked away, leaving him there. You went to your room and brushed your teeth. The dress you wore was soon on the ground and a comfy t-shirt clad your body. A few more tears slipped down your face.

You washed your makeup off, trying to stop yourself from crying while at it. You exited the bathroom at the same time that he came into the bedroom. The both of you stopped, gazes set on each other. You were too tired to be angry, and he only looked heartbroken at your red eyes and stained cheeks. You looked away and took a few steps towards the bed, but that’s how far you got before you felt him gently grip your arm and turn you around.

For a moment you’re just looking into each others eyes. A few more tears manages to slip, causing a pained look to spread on his face. He finally breaks the silence.

”You’re right”. Silence. ”You’re absolutely right and I’m so sorry”. More silence. ”I still want to fight him, I can’t lie. But not with you as a price. Thats wrong, honestly a little sexist even”. This time his hand slowly reaches for your cheek, wiping away a few tears. “But I was onboard tonight when he suggested it, and that was wrong. I’m so sorry”

That was all you wanted to hear. Your arms engulfed him in a tight hug, your face pressed against his chest as you let yourself exhale sharply. Nolan held you in silence. ”Just don’t do shit like that” you said, still slightly annoyed. “I wanna be with you but you cant treat me like that, Nolan” you turned your head up to look at him, and he met your sight immediately. He closed the gap between you and let his forehead lean against yours.

”I know, I was an asshole. It wont happen again. But as of right now, you’re still mine. And I’m yours” Nolan lifted you up bridal style and carried you off to bed. He laid down on top of you and kissed you slowly.

[whiskynottea]

The Ripple Effect

Previously Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

AO3

Previously (Chapter 6)

Jamie grabbed my hand, leading me up the stairs to his apartment.

He unlocked the door and slipped in the darkness, taking me with him.

Here we are, Beauchamp.

Chapter 7. Nessie and the Red Phone Booth.

source

Jamie held my hand tight while he turned the lights on. With a subtle click! his life was there, open and bright for me to see it.

  I swallowed hard, trying to push the fear back to the pit of my stomach, where it settled for months now. With a breath, I looked around.

 It was a studio apartment, furnished only with the basics.

 A small kitchen, a narrow dining table, a bed.

 Our bed.

 That stopped me in my tracks.

 The plain solid oak frame supported a thick, half a meter tall bed mattress, which had a mattress on top of it, then a top mattress and finally a toper, what else?  

  **

 (1.5 years earlier)

 We were bouncing on different mattresses like school kids for about an hour, trying to decide which one suited us, and erupting in laughter when the kind lady interrupted our shenanigans to ask us if everything was alright.

 I could remember my exact words when Jamie exclaimed “This one!” lying on a four-layer bed that would cost us a fortune.

 “You’re kidding me. Come on, Jamie, this is ridiculous!” I took his hand and dragged him off the bed.

 But he insisted.

 So we bought all four layers, filled with natural products; horsehair, cactus fiber and seaweed.

 “Yeah, now that I’m thinking about this, I could never sleep on a bed without seaweed in it.” I mentioned sourly still thinking of the bed’s enormous price.

 “Ye’re a selkie, that’s why.” Jamie said, wiggling his eyebrows and setting his teeth on my neck to prove his point.

 “Horseshit.” I whispered but smiled nonetheless. We would need the bed ASAP if Jamie continued like this. Any bed, if I wanted to be honest.

 “Horsehair, Sassenach. If there were horseshit in there, ye would scrunch this wee nose of yours until…” his whisper was lost as he licked across the side of my neck up to my earlobe.

 He never admitted it, but I knew this bed was bought for me, because I often had a sore neck after long shifts and nights spent at the hospital. I knew he could sleep on rocks if need to, and he would be happy with it.

**

  The image of our bed, covering almost half of the relatively small space of his apartment, filled my heart with dreams I didn’t have the courage to hope for before coming back.

 Glancing around I realized that more of the furniture was from our place.

 His mother’s armchair was standing next to my uncle’s vintage side table, the last thing I had left from him. And on top of it, the trophies of our first date.

 A black ceramic Loch Ness monster ornament, next to a bright red London telephone booth.

  **

 (2.5 years earlier)

 “I have a gift for you.” I announced with a broad grin the moment I saw him outside my apartment building. “Just to remind you who’s always winning around here.” With a cocked eyebrow, indicating who was the aforementioned winner, I handed him the little souvenir, silently praying he wouldn’t be offended.

 If only I knew!

 “Ye surely know that in Scotland we’re rising when we dinna like our rulers!” He stated with a cunning smile.

 Jamie materialized a box from behind his back and gave it to me with a cheeky grin. It was a white box, with a picture of Nessie at the front, and I opened it to find four parts inside – a head, a tale, and two body parts made to look like she was half-emerged in the water. It was beautiful.

 “So ye dinna forget where ye are, lass. This is a powerful place, full of mysteries, ye ken.”

 That night I learned some of the mysteries hidden in his strong arms and tender lips. And that he liked me as his ruler, but rose nonetheless.

   **

  The memories were now running their claws against my heart and I could barely keep myself from falling on the floor and sob for all the things I’d left behind. It was a wander I still had more tears left in me, but it did.

 Before I knew it, Jamie’s arms were around me, keeping me upright.

  “Come here, Sassenach. Let’s warm you up.” He whispered, and I felt his breath in my ear. I leaned my head towards him, only to be met by thin air. He left me and headed to the wardrobe.

  I didn’t move an inch while he was searching in his drawers, afraid that if I’d move I would run straight to his hug. He came back with a towel and pile consisting of a hoodie, sweatpants and clean underwear – all huge, and all his.

 I was shocked by this offer. Not that I’d never wore his clothes before, just that I didn’t expect him to be so… open and giving.

 Like I’d never left.

  I took the clothes and nodded my thanks. When I raised my eyes to his, I found them filled with care and concern.

 This man could break my heart just by snapping his fingers.

 “You’re all soaked, too. Don’t you want to…” He interrupted me before I could continue my offer.

 “Dinna fash, Sassenach. You go take a hot shower and I’ll change into something dry in the meantime.”

 I did as I was bid, unable to disagree with him. My wet clothes were clinging on my body, the cold creeping in, and I desperately needed to compose myself before we would talk.

  Jamie’s bathroom was small but the shower was big enough to fit him – which made it quite spacious for me. I shed my clothes on the floor and got in, longing to feel the full pressure of the scalding hot water against my skin.

 How I wished he would come in to join me, to wash the pain away and make me his again. To feel his body against mine, giving me the absolution I craved for, as he would my frail body with his strength.

 He didn’t come, though.

 I dried myself and wore his soft clothes, smelling of my favorite conditioner.

 My heart melted to the floor, next to my soaked clothes.

 Oh, Jamie.

  I walked to the room to find him sitting in the armchair, with two glasses of whisky on the side table, next to an almost full whisky bottle. He was well prepared.

  He chuckled when he saw me, and I took a lame turn around myself to show off the disaster, in all its greatness. The sweatpants were falling of my hips and I used a rubber hair band to somehow keep them up, while the hoodie could easily fit in me and a duplicate of myself at the same time.

  I eyed the whisky with a tiny smile on my face. Jamie shrugged. “I figured we would need it.”

 “I reckon we will.” I confirmed, and walked to take my glass.

  It was when I leaned in to take my dram that the magic happened. For an instant we forgot ourselves, what had happened, what was going to happen. My hand grazed his arm and the next moment he had grabbed me, pulling me into his lap and kissing me with all he had. Teeth were sinking deep in lips, drawing blood, tongues touched and fought for dominance, out of the need to push the suffering of the past months away. Without realizing how, I found myself straddling him, grinding my body against his, with a hand lost in his hair and the other grasping his tee shirt for dear life. I felt one hand on my scalp, tangled between my wet curls while the other traveled from my thighs up to my butt, until it settled on my waist to pull me closer.

  When we came back to ourselves and broke the kiss Jamie held my eyes with his. Our breaths were short and fast, synchronized to let us breath each other in.

 It took a while until Jamie averted his eyes. “I’m sorry, Sassenach. I…, I just couldn’t help myself. I shouldn’t have done that.”

 I had no words. To feel this man’s passion again, woven seamlessly with his love and care, was the best gift anyone had ever given me. I kissed him in reply, a light flicker of my lips against his and I moved away.

  With my whisky in hand, I sat on the edge of the bed and run my fingers on the duvet.

 “You kept…” I trailed off. Did I want to mention that?

 He gave me a rueful smile and looked absentmindedly at the bed. “Aye, I kept all I could fit in this place.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I knew he prepared himself to talk, so I sipped my drink and waited in silence.

  “When you left, Claire, I was lost. I stayed at home for a week, barely sleeping or eating, trying to understand what had just happened. Then Murtagh came, with his grump face – ye know Murtagh – and scolded me for more than an hour. But I couldn’t react to anything he said. I felt like I had no strength anymore, but even if I had, everything was meaningless, anyway.”

 I walked to him and sat down on the floor, placing a hand on his thigh, desperately trying to comfort him but still not knowing my boundaries.

 “Why, Claire?” He whispered painfully. “Why did you leave like this, why didn’t you return any of my calls?”

 I lowered my head, trying to the best way to respond to his questions.

 “Anyway,” he continued, “I moved here because Murtagh insisted that living in another place would help. He suggested going back to Lallybroch, but I couldna do that. With Jenny and the kids… I needed to be alone. When I finally agreed to move, he said he would transfer all our things to a warehouse. But I… I couldna do it. I couldna let you go. I couldna let us go.” His fingers trailed on my cheek and then they were gone, as I felt him standing up, trying to keep a distance. I let him go.

  Jamie moved to the window and stood there, trying to calm himself down. I’d seen the heartbreak mingling with anger in his eyes before he turned to go away. The muscles of his shoulders were tense underneath with tee shirt and fast, deep breaths were shaking his body.

 “Why did you leave?” He hissed, still not looking at me.

 “I…” I trailed off. This was the hard part. I gulped audibly, trying to force back the tears and steady my breath. Jamie turned to face me, and I could see the words struggling behind sealed lips, wanting to fly free between us. He pressed his lips tighter, in an attempt to protect his thoughts and hopes. It would be harder for me to shatter them with my explanations if they were never said aloud.

 My inability to find words made things worse. His fury took over, dominating all other feelings. When he talked again his voice was palpating with restrained anger.

 “Do ye ken how many times I thought about that day, to make sense of it, only to end up more confused and sore? Do ye ken how it feels to return to an empty house when all ye were thinking during the drive home was two whisky eyes you get lost in, and a body completing yours, taking away all the day’s weariness? Do ye ken how it feels to replay in yer head every single detail for six months, trying to find any sign of what was amiss, if there was something different the night before when you still felt whole, or during the next morning’s breakfast? If that day’s goodbye kiss was different than the rest – screaming goodbye forever? And yet, to end up with nothing that can explain your emptiness. Do ye ken how it feels to be left alone with a note in your shaking hands, reading ‘It’s over - Don’t look for me’?”

 “It wasn’t easy to leave, either.” It was just a whisper that left my lips, but I could see that he’d heard it, because his chest was heaving more with every passing minute.

 “Then WHY DID YOU LEAVE, DAMN YOU?” He shouted, his fists shaking as he kept them close to his body with difficulty.

 “I HAD TO!” I screamed. Seeing his pain made my pain raw, splinters sinking in the soft surface of my heart.

 “You left me behind without any explanation! Do ye ken how it is to live as half a man? To have the ghost of your happiness following you everywhere, a constant reminder of your smashed dreams?”

 “Do I know? Do I know?” I repeated, unable to think of anything else. “OF COURSE I DO! IT WAS THE SAME FOR ME, TOO.”

 Jamie opened his mouth ready to reply, but pressed his lips instead and took a step back. Squaring his shoulders, he asked me in a cracked voice, “Why are ye back?”

 Letting a breath out, I replied. “I needed to explain.”

 “Then do.” He said, his voice cold and removed, insulating himself from what would follow.

 “I left to protect you. You and me both.”

Chapter 8

[taesbetch]

To Own A Hybrid

pairing: Jungkook x Reader 

Genre: Angst, Fluff (eventual smut) Hybrid!AU Cat!AU 

Summary: the hybrid world was one y/n never really involved herself in; however, after certain events, she is tossed into a world of uncertainty in the company of a particularly rude hybrid. 

Word count: 5k +

A/N: I'VE NEVER DONE A HYBRID AU OR ANYTHING HYBRID BEFORE LIKE EVER SO PLEASE LIKE IT CAUSE I TRIED MA HARDEST OH LORD JESUS!

WARNING: Mentions of abuse, emotional torment, and prostitution 

P1 P2 P3 P4 P5 - P14

“y/n!”

You suddenly fell off of your elbow that you were happily sleeping against; only to have it replaced with the hard metal table in front of you.

“go home” your co-worker jimin laughed as he checked his wristwatch. Jimin was always the last one to leave; he was responsible and hard-working and extremely handsome.

It had been 13 hours since the two of you had walked through the office doors, yet you sat with messed up hair, oily and ruined makeup and crinkled clothes, whereas his crispy black button up was still neatly tucked into his pants and his jet-black hair still perfectly placed.

You sighed before saving your work and packing up.

The office was silent and dark; the occasional snores from your fellow workers who were doing a night-shift filled the office. One of them caught your eye.

“doesn’t he have a hybrid at home?” you asked softly as you observed his lanky figure was sprawled between his chair and his desk.

“who, Namjoon? Yer he has two actually” Jimin answered as he turned to face Namjoon as well.

“would you ever get a hybrid?” you asked him as you turned to face him. He put his fist underneath his chin as he thought about it.

“I don’t know…maybe. But hybrids are a tricky thing to get involved in” he sighed as he shook his head.

You nodded your head in agreement. Hybrids weren’t in a good situation right now. A lot of them were being sold for slavery or prostitution. And then there were the rich owners, who treated their hybrids like trophies…it was disgusting.

There were multiple laws against hybrids basically having normal human rights, but of course, they aren’t counted as human. You scoffed at the thought and decided that you should start heading home.

As you waved goodbye to Jimin you quickly checked the time. 10pm, okay, hopefully, something other than Macdonalds was open. You made a quick plan to go check the streets and then return to your car and drive home.

It wasn’t like you couldn’t get a hybrid if you wanted to. You had a great job working for a great boss and were surrounded by great co-workers; it’s just you were kind of uncomfortable with the idea.

Did you treat them like a pet? What do need? Are there special requirement? Do they get sick like humans get sick?

It was all extremely confusing to you, especially the rules, jesus Christ those fucking rules.

As you walked along the sidewalk, you were surprised to see a lot of places open. Around here, places usually close early…unless something special is happening…of course, how could you forget.

It was November 1st which meant new hybrids were being imported. You tried to strain your ears to hear the usual protestors and were shocked at how loud they were.

A smile came onto your face as you stopped in your tracks and took a deep breath in. some people are lovely owners and have adopted as many hybrids as they can, this thought was the one that let you have faith in humanity.

You approached the Chinese shop excitedly, you couldn’t wait to get your hands on some damn food.

“You filthy pest! Do as I say!”

Aw shit…walk away y/n, don’t get involved.

The sounds got louder as you moved closer to the store that was right next to an alleyway.

Don’t look y/n. keep walking.

“You belong to me! Do as I say!”

You stopped suddenly. Right at the entrance of the alleyway. Fuck it.

“what the fuck are you doing!?” you yelled as you turned towards them. You gasped in shock as you saw the hybrid on the floor, clutching his stomach as the human hit him with a cane, a collar and leesh in his other hand.

You had heard about these situations, people called them hybrid stealers.

Hybrids were either bought for prostitution or stolen for prostitution…

“stay out of this little girl” the woman hissed at you as she stabbed her heel into his stomach causing him to yell out in pain.

“HEY!” you yelled stepping forward quickly; worry had filled your entire body when you noticed how much blood was currently not in his body.

you needed to get him help, and quickly.

You pulled out your phone, pretending to call hybrid protective services “hello! Yes im reporting an abusive owner, hers name Alissa Thompson” you said spotting her name tag

“shit!” she exclaimed angrily before running away. you continued to fake talk into the phone until she was fully out of earshot.

After being sure she was gone you quickly ran to the hybrid, panic quickly entering your system as you watched his head drop to the floor.

“hey! oh my god! Hey, please stay alive!” you rambled as you bent down to his level, as you reached out to touch him, his arm quickly came up, scratching you across your hand.

You hissed in pain as you retracted your hand quickly; as blood started peeking out from your skin you wiped it against your top and took a deep breath.

“look. You need help, if I don’t help you, you’ll bleed out on the street and die” you stated firmly at the stubborn hybrid. He hissed but this time when you reached for him, he let you help.

His body was cold and heavy, but you tried your best to drag him towards your car. If you held him to tight, or carelessly handled him he would hiss lowly at you or attempt to free himself from your grip.

Small beads of sweat were starting to form on your forehead as you continued to drag him towards your car.

“okay, we're almost there” you panted to yourself more than him.

Your footsteps grew heavy and the sound of them repeatedly hitting the ground beneath you gave you a heart attack.

Carefully, you heaved the injured boy into your front seat, silently praying as he continuously groaned in pain.

“don’t…t-take me to a h-hospital” he blurted out as you fumbled around with your seat belt. Ignoring his request, you started the car with the hospital in mind as your final destination.

You couldn’t help him, you didn’t have the medical skills or appliances.

He hissed and groaned as blood poured out of his body with each breath. “I’m sure this doesn’t help but hang on” you said hesitantly trying to comfort him.

As you pulled into the hospitals driveway you heard him grunt in annoyance as he reached for the door, trying to escape.

You quickly jumped out of the car and locked him inside, the only way to unlock it was on your side of the car. In this condition, you doubted he would be able to reach it. Deeming it was safe to leave him for a couple of minutes you rushed into the hospital, blood covering your body.

You slammed your hands on the front desk loudly attracting the attention of everyone in the room.

“I NEED HELP!”

------

“y/n”

You head wiped around quickly as your heart continued to beat at a fast-paced.

Your head hadn’t stopped spinning since you entered the building and your heart hadn’t stopped pounding since you retrieved the hybrid. Sweat covered your hands and forehead…correction, sweat covered your entire body and you were positive you looked like a drug addict the other people in the waiting room.

You quickly scanned her eyes for a ‘sorry he didn’t make it’ but instead was met with a clipboard and a pen.

“is he your hybrid?” the nurse asked softly, smiling brightly.

You tensed up before nodding your head slowly. Shit, what if he has an owner? What if doesn’t?

“and how long have you had him?” she asked as she scribbled away.

“not that long, almost seems like 30 minutes” you joked as a nervous chuckle escaped your lips. She didn’t seem to notice anything odd, to which you sighed in relief.

“oh! Well if he’s new I’m guessing you don’t have insurance for him yet, would you like to set that up now? We can do that here if you like, just so you don’t have to go all the way down to the hybrid center” she chirped, her mood changing suddenly.

What the fuck is hybrid center? Where the fuck is a hybrid center? Insurance? Am I buying a car? What the fuck.

“what would I have to fill out?” you asked concerned. You didn’t know his name, his date of birth, or even what kind of hybrid he was. You could tell he was a cat hybrid but you’ve heard that they're experimenting with different types these days.

“not much. Just your name and address, we’ll make up his system number and just make up a nickname. It’s just in case he gets in trouble or lost, maybe he’s hurt but you’re not present; ya know that stuff.” She answered.

“okay, yer” you nodded as she walked back and the documents.

A nickname…hmmm.

Your eyes moved across the hospitals waiting room, scouting for anything that would trigger your creativity side.

A small boy with bright green eyes sat on a stool happily, he swung his legs back and forth as he held the chocolate chip cookie in his hands as if it was the last one on the planet.

That’s it! Kookie…with a K cause your cool like that.

As you fill in the insurance document you doubted it every second. You had no idea what you were stepping into or what kind of situation the hybrid was in. you could tell by the hisses that he clearly wanted nothing to do with him so all you could do was hope this was right.

-----

Three’s hours later and your eyes were drooping. The cold air kept picking at your exposed skin and your work blouse was useless for warmth.

“hes ready” the nurse said as she jogged up to you happily.

If you weren’t as shocked to see that her hair was still perfectly curled and her smile was still as bright as before you would have fully reciprocated what she had said.

Finally realising that she was telling you he was alive and ready for you to see him you stumbled out of your seat.

As she led you towards his room door you started getting nervous. You had so many questions and so little knowledge and answers on this whole situation.

The nurse gave you a small nod and an encouraging smile before she let you to face your hybrid companion alone.

You slowly opened the door, only enough for you to peek your head into the dull room.

As your vision set on the boy your eyes slowly traced over the marks on his back. They were old but not old enough to fade. You furrowed your brows in worry and confusion before fully entering and closing the door behind you.

“don’t you know how to knock” he hissed as he turned to face you pulling his hospital gown further up his body.

“sorry” you shrugged nonchalantly as you looked around the hospital room.

“how are you feeling? The nurse said you should be able to leave tonight” you said after a moment of awkward silence.

His eyes narrowed at you as you fiddled with your fingers nervously.

“why do you even care?” he asked as his ears flattened on top of his head.

“w-well I was just wondering where you would be going? It’s getting really cold” you questioned as you took a seat next to his bed.

The chair was uncomfortable but your legs were falling asleep and your body was running out of energy.

“you don’t need to know” he replied bluntly, his cold eyes never leaving yours.

“okay…can I at least know your name? mines Y/N” you asked trying to find out more about the boy whose blood currently resonates in your car.

“you don’t need to know” he repeated.

Annoyance started filling your body at the hybrids attitude. You had successfully brought him to the hospital and they had saved his life, he would now be able to see another sunrise.

“well are you going to be alright? Do have money? A safe place to go? Is lady going to come back for you?” you asked, your voice was edgy and harsh.

You didn’t mean to be, but it was late and he was starting to annoy you.

He hissed in reply causing you to sigh/groan loudly as you flailed your arms in the air.

“fine. That’s fine” you said as you hoped up on your feet and wiped out a notepad.

You angrily wrote on the piece of paper before placing it down on the side table next to you.

“this is my address and this is my phone number. I’m on floor 5 but you have to go up some steps to the second level to find my apartment. If you need a place to sleep or you need some food feel free to come visit, there’s a key under the mat” you stated seriously before giving him one last nod and removing yourself from his room.

You felt a pang of guilt and a string of worry as you walked towards your car.

maybe you should have stayed with him…or at least watched him leave…or…

you let out a sigh as you rested your head against your steering wheel. All you needed right now was a hot shower and to forget about your encounter with the troubled hybrid.

---

Sun shone through the peep of your curtains as you heard soft chirps of a bird outside your window.

You were drained. Your body felt numb and your mind was blank, too tired to process any thought due to yesterdays excessive overload.

Hybrids…

You knew little to nothing about them…

Memories of the boy's hostile looks and cold glares sent shivers down your spine. The scars on his back still present in your mind as you tried to wrap your head around what caused him to be like this.

Thank Jesus you started work at 1pm today, you didn’t think it was possible not to have the energy to even lift a finger.

Kookie…wonder where he is now

-----

The laptop had multiple tabs open and your hand was stuck in your second box of cereal for the day.

You knew it was a bad idea but you just wanted to know a little bit more about the hybrid world…however, you didn’t expect to fall into a complete rabbit hole and be sucked into documentary’s, protest videos and law enforcement.

A small hot tear ran down your face as you watched nurses tend to small hybrid children who had been abused.

There was a particular feeling that started welling up in your chest. The one where you wanted to help, but you didn’t know how.

Your eyes instinctively welled up as the images of crying hybrids filled your screen. You shut the laptop harshly before taking a deep breath.

Why were you doing this to yourself?

You didn’t own a hybrid? You were sure you didn’t want one…well…

Shaking off thoughts of anything hybrid-related you decided to get some more shut-eye before your shift at work. It was only a small shift 1pm to 4pm but you knew those three hours would be an insane mess.

---

As you strolled through the office's front area you smiled at the same front desk girls who were always in some sort of hushed gossip session.

“y/n!” one of them called to you before waving you over subtly. You furrowed your brows looking left and right, just in case there was another Y/n that they were calling too.

Weird.

Cautiously you stalked over towards them wondering what they would want with you.

“did you hear?” one of them started when you rested your arms on the counter, leaning in to join the gossip circle.

“y/n!” one of them called to you before waving you over subtly. You furrowed your brows looking left and right, just in case there was another Y/n that they were calling too.

Weird.

Cautiously you stalked over towards them wondering what they would want with you.

“did you hear?” one of them started when you rested your arms on the counter, leaning in to join the gossip circle.

“hear what?” you asked intrigued about what they were going to tell you.

“the protestors managed to stop the importing of hybrids since most of them are sold to prostitution they managed to shut it down. The police have already arrested several hybrid trafficking rings and the hybrids have been sent to hybrid foster care and adoption centers! Isn’t that great!” the other one finished.

A small smile covered your face as you nodded excitedly, your mind flicking to the injured hybrid you had met not that long ago.

“also, Namjoon was one of them! He even chased down a ringleader! Isn’t he just amazing!” the last one swooned as she brought her hand to her forehead dramatically.

You giggled softly giving another nod in agreement before saying our goodbyes and making your way up to the 5th floor.

You knew namjoon was an advocate for hybrids but you didn’t know he was that intense.

a new layer of respect had been developed for your hybrid loving co-worker and you made sure to remember to ask him more on the subject.

As you strolled into your office you made sure to smile at fellow co-workers on their way out from the morning shift.

“Y/n! looks like we're on the same shift again” jimin smiled as you took your seat.

“when are we not?” you asked with a smile before turning to your computer, trying to begin your work. However, as your eyes dragged over to namjoon, you found it harder and harder to get started.

Questions flooded your mind and you knew he would have some answers.

After bashing your keyboard for a good hour, you decided the suspense was getting to you.

Standing up abruptly you tried to think of ways to approach him.

It's not like the two of you hadn’t spoken before, you knew him fairly well actually. The two of you had been in the same university class. However, your relationship had been based on school and work, never really going beyond that.

“Y/n? what are you doing?” jimin asked in confusion as he stared up at you.

Your mouth opened as you gaped at him like a fish out of water. You had been standing there for a solid minute just staring at namjoon’s back, you realise how creepy that would seem.

“i-i-im…I’ll be back” you said before scurrying off in namjoon’s direction, dragging your chair behind you.

You quickly pulled the chair in front of you as you drew close to him, gathering his attention.

As his eyes met yours a big goofy smile graced his face.

“Hey y/n, what’s up? Haven’t spoken to you in a while” he said as you shuffled closer, joining him at his desk.

Your eyes drifted down to his hand. It had been wrapped up tightly but the splash of red colour spilling through the crisp white was still prominent.

“Congratulations, you’re now a hero amongst the front desk ladies” you joked, sending him a playful wink.

He laughed uncomfortably before scratching the back of his head.

“they whistled at me this morning… is that what getting catcalled is like?” he asked making you laugh at the poor boy’s awkwardness.

“it’s good that there are people like you willing to fight as hard as you did for hybrids, lord knows they need it” you said. He nodded his head in agreement before searching your eyes cautiously.

“did you just buy a hybrid?” he asked intrigued as he tilted his head sideways.

“oh no! well…sort of? Not really i-its complicated? To be honest I have no idea. But I do need your expert advice” you blurted out as your eyes wondered around nervously.

He smiled warmly before leaning backward. “ask away” he stated.

“okay, it's kind of a long story….not really actually it’s a really short story and I kinda feel bad cause I feel like I should have done more but I don’t know and he just really confused me but he clearly didn’t wa-“ you started to ramble only to have a chuckling namjoon stop you.

“okay, how about we just start from the beginning, just tell me what happened” he asked nicely.

“I found an injured hybrid and took him to the hospital. He was extremely cold and hostile and I got insurance for him but I don’t know if I should have done that. What if he has an owner? Does that mean he's my hybrid now? He was on the street so I assumed he had nowhere to stay but whenever I asked him a question he would just brush me off; I guess I let my temper get the better of me and ended up leaving my address and number with him…but I don’t know maybe I should have pushed more?” you asked worriedly.

“where did you find him?” he asked in deep thought.

“in an alleyway, he was getting beaten by this bitch” you said, anger coursing through your veins at the memory.

“this could be because of a lot of things, however, if you were able to get insurance for him it means the system didn’t pick him up so he probably doesn’t have an owner. But this is good, now he can’t get snatched by stray catchers” he explained.

Your silence and lip bite told namjoon all he needed to know before he continued.

“stray catches roam the streets looking for hybrids without owners, usually a hybrid will not part from its owner unless the owner has maybe sent them to get something or they are too busy to accompany their hybrid” he answered your unspoken question.

“so…I didn’t do a completely bad thing?” you squeaked with hope watching as namjoon chuckled, fondness and understanding oozing from his voice.

“you did good kid” he assured happily.

---

The day was going past quickly, you had successfully created a new game and finished your presentation ready for the next week.

You could have left an hour ago as that’s when you shift ended but you decided against it, figuring if you completed everything now, you can have a day off.

You silently whooped as you closed down your computer but you happy dance didn’t go unnoticed.

“day off tomorrow I'm guessing?” jimin asked tiredly as he ran a hand through his hair.

“yep! I'm going to do absolutely nothing ughhh I can’t wait to jus-“

Ring, ring

You looked down at your phone in confusion. An unknown number….weird

“hello?” you asked hesitantly as you pressed the phone against your ear.

“hell is this y/n y/l/n?”

“yes, this is she; sorry who’s this?” you asked.

“hi my names jaebum, I work at the police station. We have your hybrid here, err kookie? We were just wondering if you were able to come down and get him” he stated.

Your mouth dropped in shock before you cleared your throat.

“y-yer I’ll be there in a second” you answered.

----

You were for some reason nervous. You didn’t know if it was because you had never stepped foot in a police station before or if it was because you were here to collect a hybrid that continuously hissed at you.

“miss y/n? its me jaebum, I talked to you on the phone” the man questioned as you looked around the station like a lost puppy.

“yer! Err..sorry but what exactly happened? How did he end up here?” you asked.

“he was found by stray catchers since he wasn’t wearing a collar. But a least it wasn’t an actually felony this time am I right?” he laughed light heartily as you stared at him in confusion.

“this time?” you asked.

“vandalism, hissing at strangers, running away from owners. You name it, the boys done it all” he said as he guided you to where kookie was being held.

Your heart stung a little bit as you wondered what the hell this hybrid has gone through and why he acted the way he did.

“Alright, time for you to home kitten” jaebum smiled at kookie who sat on the cell floor with his back away from the bars.

The hybrid got up slowly before turning around with that cold glare you missed ever so much.

His eyes widened as he saw you before returning to their usual position.

“alright! Is that it? Do I have to sign anything?” you asked as jaebum opened the door, letting kookie walk out.

Jaebums eyes were glued on the hybrid but faltered and landed on someone behind him.

“the mutt finally got adopted?”

You turned around and watched as an older man walked up slowly, looking you up and down before standing next jaebum.

“Excuse you?” you asked shocked at the way he had addressed your hybrid…friend?

“watch out, this piece of shit is a lot of work” he laughed loudly.

Kookie let out a low hiss as the older man continued to laugh loudly. Jaebum was clearly uncomfortable but the man looked like a higher up, someone jaebum clearly couldn’t talk loudly too.

“did you find him on the street? Aw honey, you probably should have left him there” he said holding his round belly as he let out another roar of laughter.

“how fucking dare you” you said narrowing your eyes at him.

He seemed shocked by your comment as his laughter came to a sudden halt.

“what did you say?” he asked confused.

“I'm sorry, I didn’t realise old age was already affecting your hearing!” you exclaimed “I said HOW FUCKING DARE YOU! You’re the piece of shit here, not him. Who the fuck are you to acknowledge him like that! If I didn’t know any better I would have assumed you were a pig hybrid you stuck up bitch! and what kind of human being leaves another human being on the street to die! God! People like you are what’s wrong with the world! IYou yelled at him. Leaving everyone in the station in shock.

“we're leaving!” you said before giving kookie a friendly slap on the chest as you walked by, one that said ‘you better follow me’ but nicely.

As you stormed out of the police station and to your car you mumbled angrily to yourself about how mankind has gone to shits and you hate everyone and everything.

“so where are we going now?”

As you fumbled with your keys you looked up to see kookie standing on the passenger’s side with his arms crossed and his ears perked up.

You looked at him shocked to see that he followed you.

clearly seeing your shock, he growled before narrowing his eyes again.

“if you didn’t want me to follow you, you should- “he started but you quickly cut him off.

“were going home, duh” you said as you opened your car and got in, not giving him any time to snap back or glare at you once more.

He opened the car door cautiously before slowly getting in, looking around in awe.

“you don’t remember what it looks like?” you asked him curiously as you watched him carefully. He folded his arms back over his chest with a huff.

“whatever, I don’t need to either…I only need a place to stay tonight so don’t think your special” he hissed at you.

You laughed before nodding your head.

“rats, just as I thought we were getting somewhere…can I at least know your name? I did just save you from another day with that asshole” you asked as you started the car.

“Jungkook…my names Jungkook” he said as he loosened up from his tense posture.

You smiled as you started to drive home.

“nice to meet you Jungkook”

[party-of-rpg-muses]

I’ve been really busy playing X-2 now! Practically been playing for half of the day.

Continuing where I left off, I was curious about this “digging” people were applying for. And it was there that I discovered that you actually had to wait for the other people. Thankfully, there were only three people remaining and I went in shortly after the third. It was there that I was introduced to Gippal and something about him seems kinda... I dunno. Annoying?

No matter, since I found myself in Bikanel Desert, where Home once stood. And even more, I found myself at the Oasis, which was where the player starts and automatically arrives when they go to Bikanel Desert in FFx. Good memories. Thing is, I also found Logos, whom I defeated easily. And it’s there that I realized that I probably went out of order. I was probably supposed to fight Ormi and Logos separately before fighting them together at the Djose Highroad.

Still, with the uniforms, I actually help off going to Guadosalam, instead to the Macalania Woods, since I learned about Paine’s Full Throttle Dressphere. But I had to find the Musicians First and even got the Bitter Farewell Garment Grid in the process, and found O’aka. Afterwards, I spoke with Trommel to get Full Throttle before going to Guadosalam. I also couldn’t help but grin when I saw the spring where Yuna and Tidus had their moment together in FFX.

Anyway, going to Guadosalam, I was kinda thrown off when I found myself massaging Leblanc and the... sounds she made when I hit the right spot. Still, I think I did quite well. I found myself fighting Ormi shortly thereafter, who was still fairly easy by himself. Although, I found myself having Yuna use the White Mage dressphere for the first time and OH LOOK! It’s the staff Yuna used during her pilgrimage! Anyway, I did switch her back to Gunner due to the amount of enemies I faced while in Chateau Leblanc’s secret area. Scattershot proved really helpful. I found myself fighting Ormi and Logos shortly after and when I defeated them, I found myself wandering around for a very little while before I figured out the puzzle behind the booby traps. In fact, the first one, the one above the main hallway with the spike trap, was found by complete accident.

Shortly after, I fought against Leblanc and found myself using the Special Dressphere for the bossfight, especially since Leblanc and her goons hit quite hard. Mainly because of their team attack. I mainly used Rikku’s Machina Maw, but for the final leg (against Logos, since I beat Leblanc first, then Ormi, leaving Logos last), I used Paine’s Full Throttle. I also noticed a treasure chest in that room where YRP found their broken Sphere, but sadly, I was pretty much instantly warped to Bevelle after the cutscene.

And is it just me, but I got a flashback to FFX where I had to run down that long “hallway” to fight Seymour. Anyway, the New Yevon soldiers weren’t much of a threat. Though it was cool seeing the Bevelle cloister again, even though I hated it in the first game. However, it was there that I got my first game over since my return. One the first screen in the cloister, but on the upper level, I got into a fight with two Skinks, one of which went into Oversoul. Thing is, I had Rikku use Borrowed Time to take one out so I could focus on the Oversouled one, but it wouldn’t die! In the end, the Stopped Skink returned to normal and my party was defeated. I couldn’t run and they kept confusing anyone who was standing. And with my Game Over, I had to go through the long stretch of land, fighting New Yevon soldiers yet again to try again, in which I did emerge victorious.

It also kinda hurt seeing the Chamber of the Fayth practically destroyed. But the pain didn’t stop there! Oh boy! After entering the Bevelle Underground, I struggled against the YSLS-Zeros and even the Dance of Darkness only helped so much. And the Precepts Guard was a big pain, mostly because of its Instant Death attack. He even knocked Yuna out of her Floral Fallal. But I still won and made my way further underground and kept Yuna as the White Mage (mostly because I unlocked all of her Gunner abilities) so she could keep everyone healed up.

Then I fought against Baralai and he was a monster! That Looming Glacier was a massive threat, draining someone of all their MP and inflicting Stop. And he hits fast too. I don’t know how, but I managed to take him out. And good thing to, since I was so limited on Eithers. And after that was Emotional Pain Part 2: Electric Boogaloo! I really didn’t want to have to fight Bahamut and the music playing didn’t help! Why force me to fight Bahamut?! And it got even worse when I got the trophy, “Defeating an Old Friend”. You’re cruel, X-2.

I’m also quite confused as to where the Vegnagun went. But oh well. Out of everything, I was most curious about the Pyreflies in the room. When Chapter 3 started and fiends started popping up, I actually didn’t go the Hotspots, instead going to Mt. Gagazet to check on Kimahri. Of course, I took on the mission to chase after Garik and stop him and he even gave me a Trainer Dressphere. What I wasn’t looking forward to was climbing the mountain again. I didn’t like climbing the mountain in the first game (partially because of Seymour Flux) and I still don’t like it in this game, especially because of the annoying enemies. Things got worse and more annoying when I reached the Fayth Scar and had to deal with more Vespas (they were also present on the Mountain Path, but they were more annoying at the Fayth Scar). They would use W.I.M.P.S, rendering their target unable to do anything. It was only after the mission that I figured that the issue was Itchiness, which I never experienced beforehand. But during the battle, I learned I can stop the Itchiness by switching Dresspheres.

When I finally caught up with Garik, I found myself in a battle with Garik and two Ronso Youths. Not long into the fight, because the three Ronso all had insane buffs, I had Yuna use her Floral Fallal and afflict them with Darkness, Poison, and Slow. I had Yuna and Left Pistilplay attack (I mindlessly attacked, only having Yuna target Ronso Youth A while Left Pistilplay targets all three Ronso) while the Right Pistilplay heals everyone. All the while, watching videos on my phone until Ronsa A fell. When he did, I switched off the Dressphere and fought normally for a very short while while switching Dresspheres for Rikku and Paine, having Paine use Full Throttle. That... wasn’t all that good, since almost all of her attacks missed because of some increase evasion. And I just now learned that I depending on my answers, I can fight a stronger or weaker Garik. I fought the stronger one, mostly likely because I didn’t partake in the answers at all during Chapter 1. Because of that, he used Might Guard, causing him and the Ronso to take very little actual damage. Anyway, it took a while, but Ronso Youth B fell as well. After that, I switched to Rikku’s Machina Maw. And for the rest of the battle, I just spammed attacking while having one of the Legs spam Repair on Rikku. Again, I was watching a video on my phone the entire time until I won.

After that, I returned to the Celsius and turned the game off. Though I’m concerned that I didn’t do enough regarding the Ronso vs Guado sidequest and by the time this is over, the Guado will be wiped out. All because I didn’t go to Mt. Gagazet proper in Chapter 1.