#you cannot imagine how tired i am. the fact i have work again tomorrow is draining the life out of my soul

[n7punk]

Will you share some of your most re-read Catradora fics with us ?? Would love to hear what fanfics live in your head rent free

I'm pretty busy rn so this is just some quick hits I think are up there:

Oh God There's Two Of Them (and the whole series) by Clare Necessities. Canon timetravel AU.

12 weeks by petty_labelle (you could guess this lol). Bachelorette AU.

i picture it soft & i ache. CEO/Charity AU. https://archiveofourown.org/works/25227247

kind of a freak accident. Swapped phone AU. https://archiveofourown.org/works/25342612/chapters/61446868

Cycle of Violence. Canon divergent AU season 4. https://archiveofourown.org/works/23208442

detective glimmer. High school AU. https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599702

i didnt include links for the first two because i didnt have to look them up to know the title + author lmao. im really bad with names ok guys

im running out of energy. post-canon conflict. https://archiveofourown.org/works/24575596

drunk adora go brrrrrr https://archiveofourown.org/works/32500876/chapters/80608978

okay spoons out 🫡

[tethered-heartstrings]

I haven’t really written fic in so long. I had so much pre-written for my current story so all it needed was some editing/touch-ups. I’ve been updating chapters for weeks without having made progress. But now I find myself staring at a document and all these ideas are either swirling way to fast for me to grasp or the water is fucking lifeless and I’m staring into nothing. And I have too many fics I want to write and just. head empty.

[dameronology]

everything i need {mando x reader}

summary: din has to rethink his life plans how that you’re by side - not that he’s complaining {i do have a taglist but it’s 1am and i simply cannot be arsed to find it, please accept my not very sincere and very tired apologies}

warnings: much language 

enjoy!! sorry for the lack of imagines lately, i’m back at work and working as a director on two of my group projects so i am neck deep in covid-related paperwork. 

- jazz

p.s this has not been proofread, because i am just that shit 

Din Djarin had never needed a reason to find a home. Settling down permanently wasn’t an option in his line of work. Permanence had never been part of his plan. 

Then again, a lot of things hadn’t been part of his plan. The Child certainly hadn’t; if you’d told him five years ago that his firstborn son was going to look like...well, like that, he probably would have drop kicked you into the next rim. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t imagine his life without the kid now, or that he would rain hell on anyone who would dare lay a finger on the toad-like toddler. His life had gone in a direction he never could have anticipated and his son wasn’t even the biggest detour. That was you. Din wasn’t even entirely sure where you’d come from or when you’d come into his life, but he would have first surrendered his ship and everything on it before even considering the notion of living without you. Whether it was simply luck, or whether there was some higher power who finally decided to give him a fucking break, The Mandalorian had a family. He was no longer a lone gunslinger with nothing to lose; now, he had everything to lose.

The fear that came with his newfound vulnerability was a small price to pay, however. In the quieter moments - when it was just you and him and the kid - he had no question in his mind that everything was worth it. Every fright, every concern, every agonising moment that Din spent overthinking and calculating a million and one ways to keep you both safe was completely and irretrievably worthwhile. It was a little unconventional but a family was a family. A clan of three. 

You didn’t often get to take breaks. They came every few months, usually whenever Din needed had had a particularly had job. You’d found your place halfway between helping him kick-ass and babysitting the Child (who at this point, was essentially your son too). It meant that days you were running across rooftops in Nevarro with a blaster in hand, and others you were running around after your kid, holding a diaper rather than a gun. The duality was astounding.

The last few weeks had been a little hard. There had been one bounty who had been relentless, and another who had tried to take a hit at you. It hadn’t taken long for you to put the bastard in his place but the Mandalorian had taken it a little more personally than you. Before throwing him into the carbonite, Din had broken a little more than six of the target’s ribs and given him a nice shiner on his left eye. He never minded when he was the one who had a punch or two thrown at him but when it was you? Din never took to it lightly. 

Once both bounties had been sent to their respective clients and you’d collected your rewards, Din had set the Crest’s path towards a jungle planet. It was one he had frequented a few years ago - before you, before the kid - and whilst it was a little desolate, it was safe. It was away from any Imps, any potential danger. It meant that you could both let your guards down for a bit and put your feet up. Plus, the Child had been dealing with cabin fever for the better part of two weeks and you were convinced you were going to lose it if you didn’t get the little fucker to some open space soon. Preferably one with lots of frogs, because he was not taking well to the freeze-dried food that you’d been fobbing him with him for the last few months. 

You were laying in an open field, weight propped up on your elbows as you glanced out into the grass over your sunglasses. Din was making his way back towards you, trudging through the long blades; the low evening sun was bouncing off the beskar of his helmet, causing you to scrunch your face up. You could tell from the way he was talking that he was exhausted. He’d been on kid duty all day (it was your turn tomorrow) and somehow, that was more tiring that any bounty. 

‘Where is he-’

Your question was answered before you could even finish it; the little creature suddenly appeared through the grass, hitting your shin with a thump. Digging his claws into your jeans, he scrambled up onto your legs, plopping into your lap and leaning against your stomach. He peered up at you with big brown eyes for a second, before twisting back around to rest his head against your chest for a nap. There went your evening plans.

‘Did he eat anything?’ You raised your arm out to Din, signalling for him to sit next to you.

Aside from his helmet, he had shed the rest of his armour. The material of the undershirt he was wearing was soft against your skin as you leant into his side, letting it a small hmph as you did. He instinctively wrapped his arm your waist - because even on a safe planet, Din was naturally protective - and pulled you closer, using his free hand to run a finger over the kid’s wrinkly head. 

‘I saw him swallow a frog whole.’ His modulated voice replied. ‘It’s still disturbing.’

‘Not as disturbing as when he ate the fish whole.’ You grimaced, glancing up at him. ‘The thing was bigger than him and he gulped it down. Biologically, it doesn’t work.’

‘Nothing about him makes sense.’ He said. 

‘The only thing that makes sense is that nothing makes sense.’ You joked. ‘But I guess we’ll find out a little bit more when we work out where the hell he actually came from.’

It was a subject you didn’t approach too much. You knew that one day, you’d have to hand him back over to his own species; it was all well and good to look after him when he was still small, but you had no idea what he was going to grow to be. Finding his home planet had sort of been a secondary quest for you and Din, between bounties. Given how slow the little bastard aged, time wasn’t too much of a concern. Knowing where to start was the problem.

‘I wish we could keep him forever.’ You quietly murmured. 

‘Me too, cya’rika.’ Din gave your shoulders a light squeeze. ‘But we have to do what’s right for him.’

‘I know.’ You nodded. ‘What do you think we’ll do after we’ve found his home? His species?’

It wasn’t something that Din had given much thought. He was so used to planning everything in the moment - hours ahead, at most. He hadn’t thought in terms of days, let alone weeks or years. It made sense to, because you weren’t going anywhere. He had an opportunity to have a life outside of being a bounty hunter; you’d shown him that much. He’d found a home with you - a sense of contentment and belonging - but in a physical sense, he’d never thought about settling on a planet. When he was younger, the idea of having his own children and his own clan had played on his mind, but it had faded as the years went by. Maybe it was time to revisit the idea.

‘We could get married.’ Din quietly suggested. ‘Start a clan of our own. Something permanent.’

‘I didn’t realise that the word permanent was in your vocabulary.’ You replied. 

‘It wasn’t. Not before you.’ He said. ‘There was a lot of things I never thought about before you.’

‘A clan?’ You intertwined your fingers with his, giving his hand a light squeeze. ‘In a few years, absolutely - but I am not doing it on that pile of junk.’

‘That pile of junk got us here.’

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head - but there was a smile on your face. ‘We don’t have to think about it now. One step at a time.’

There was silence for a minute, as you both pondered to yourselves. In the same way you hadn’t been part of Din’s plan, he hadn’t really been part of yours. When you’d met him, you’d never expected to fall in love with him. You couldn’t see his face, or his emotions or his feelings - but after a while, you saw him. It was though you had seen straight through the armour and right into his very soul without either of you trying. You were first person to see him as Din, and not as the Mandalorian. You understood his humanity, and the fact he wasn’t always a warrior; it meant he could let his walls down around you, and seek support and solace in a way he’d always thought to be terrifying. And it was, at first, but now it felt natural and healthy. He had you and you had him. Nothing else mattered.

‘I’ll go wherever you go.’ Din broke the quiet, eyes falling down to where the child lay in your lap.

‘You’d do that for me?’ You rested a hand on the side of his helmet; it was cold against your skin, but the gesture was there. ‘You’d give us all this up for me?’

‘I’m not giving anything up.’ He replied. ‘When I have you, I have everything I need.’

Din had always been blunt and straight to the point: sometimes it was a blessing, sometimes it was a curse. Right now, it was completely and entirely a virtue. It meant that you didn’t have to second guess his feelings for you, or worry about him leaving you. Everything he said to you was a promise. Talks of your future were mutuals goals, things to look forward to together. 

‘I love you.’ You pressed a kiss to the edge of his helmet. 

‘I love you too.’ Din replied. 

‘So let’s retire right now and get a moisture farm on Tatooine-’

‘- don’t push it.’ 

[bookstantrash]

A/N: Next week uni exams start and I won’t be able to write for a while, so I did my best to finish this chapter on time before I go MIA for some time.

You can check here Pemberley’s Lake, Hooked on You and Smells like petrichor and paper, part one, two and three of my Nessian Pride and Prejudice AU.

The sound of music

Cassian could not sleep. His mind kept coming back to the greenhouse.

To Nesta and her lavender and vanilla scent and how lovely she looked amidst the flowers.

He would not lie to himself and say he did not let his lips linger a little bit longer than necessary on her temple.

Or that he had not felt some resemblance of male pride on seeing her wearing his jacket.

That he had not imagined her wearing it after they had come back home from a ball or one of Gywn’s operas.

That he had not imagined Nesta tucked close to his side, his arms around her and a smile on his face as he heard her talk about her day.

His imagination, it seemed, was his worst enemy.

“You are delusional Cassian” he mumbled to himself “Delusional”

Sighing, he touched the pressed daisy chain again. He had taken it out of his drawer and left it in front of him as he worked on some papers regarding his properties, thinking the numbers, reports of complaints or requests would help tire him out enough to make sleep come.

Cassian had no such luck. He worked until the entire pile had been properly looked through, and even three glasses of his strongest brandy could not make his thoughts of Nesta go away.

Nesta, who was currently sleeping in one of Pemberley’s guest rooms after much freeting from Mrs.Potts and her friends about catching a cold. Cassian had made sure to have her room properly warmed and a glass of hot chocolate delivered to her first thing after they arrived from the greenhouse.

Her friends had been delighted to spend the night, and he had almost asked them to forego the inn completely and just stay at Pemberley for the rest of the month. But he did not want to mess their schedule and ruin their trip. He knew that Gwyn was on a short vacation, as were Emerie and Balthazar, and Nesta could not stay away from her younger sister, Elain, for too long, given that they had no male relative to look after their household and wellbeing in the meantime.

Maybe a trip to the kitchens would help him. A midnight snack was bound to make his sleep come soon, and he was sure he had heard one the maids saying that Chef Ramsay had baked chocolate cookies.

Safely putting the bookmark back in his drawer, Cassian only bothered to throw a robe on before quietly making his way down the hallways. He was not worried about being shirtless, given that most of the house was for certain sleeping.

Deciding to take the long way to the kitchen in hopes of tiring himself, he was surprised to pass by the library and see light coming from underneath the doors. Thinking that maybe someone had forgotten to check the place in their rounds, Cassian opened the oak doors to find the candle light. He could not risk a fire happening in the library out of all places.

He followed the faint glow until he found himself with a most surprising — but very welcome — sight.

Nesta was currently curled up on his favourite chair reading a book in nothing but a thin nightgown and he momentarily forgot to be annoyed at her for not covering herself after being caught in the rain if only because by the way she was seated he had a privileged view of her bare legs.

Cassian knew he should announce his presence, his conscience yelling at him how improper and scandalous it was to see her in such a private moment. But he let himself stare at her for another minute, commiting to mind every single detail, from the way the ribbons in her nightgown accentuated her waist — he recalled how small it had seemed when they had danced at Feyre’s ball, his hand spanning nearly halfway across — to how the white colour made her eyes look more grey than blue in the candlelight.

“Fancy seeing you here” Cassian said in greeting, clearing his throat.

Nesta nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard him, quickly scrambling to straighten herself up when she realised she was not alone.

“I am sorry, you had said I could come whenever I wanted and I—”

"Could not sleep?” he asked, and Nesta only nodded.

Oh dear Mother, she wanted to crawl into a hole on the ground and disappear. Why was it that she was always finding herself in embarrassing situations when it came to Cassian?

It was true she could not sleep, her mind replaying her evening with Cassian, from the moment she stepped on the library to when he kissed her temple in the greenhouse.

She had tossed and turned in her bed for hours, her creative mind conjuring images of a future with him.

Of long strolls in the garden and picnics by the lake.

Of hours spent reading quietly side by side in the library.

Of running her hands in his silky hair, coming up with new ways to style it.

Of Cassian’s coat around her shoulders and her head on his as they came back from a late evening of dancing or parties with their friends.

Why could she not stop thinking about him? Why had he not left her mind since they had first met each other and why did her heart skip a beat whenever he was nearby?

She looked at him, flushing all over when she noticed that he would have been completely naked from the waist up were it not for a robe, which had loosened up a bit, revealing a bit of his naked chest.

For Cauldron’ sake, did he not own a shirt?

“What are you reading?” he inquired, and she quickly averted her gaze from his chest.

Little did she know he was also trying very hard to not stare at her bare shoulders or her chest, cursing once again whoever had gifted her such nightgown.

He could bet his fortune it had been Emerie, recognizing the modice’s preference of off shoulders designs.

“Oh, it’s a romance” Nesta felt her ears getting even hotter “By Sellyn Drake. You have a rather large collection here. Some are even first editions”

“She was a dear friend of Pemberley’s previous Lady” Cassian said, motioning for her to take a seat as he told her the story “The Lord sponsored her, both because he saw how her writing brought joy to his wife and also Lady Drake’s talent.”

“She soon became extremely famous and still kept sending the previous Lord her books even after his wife passed away” Cassian smiled faintly “He sold Pemberley and moved, but I kept the library as it was, just adding my own books here. Lady Drake comes once a while to visit and get inspiration for new novels, although she says she is to retire soon.”

“Y-you know her?” Nesta’s voice had gotten an uncharacteristic high pitch “You know Sellyn Drake personally?!”

“She is a very annoying old lady” Cassian said rolling his eyes “Always asking me if I will not take a wife so she will have someone more interesting to discuss her books with whenever she visits.”

“I cannot believe you are friends with one of my favourite authors” Nesta said in disbelief.

“But I would not have pegged you for a romance reader” she added, arching an eyebrow.

“I could not very well leave those books here to gather dust, could I?” he answered, squirming on his seat.

“Tell me, did the scary General Commander of the British Armies shed a tear in any of them?” her voice had a teasing tone and Cassian was almost left speechless by that fact alone.

Nesta inclined her body in his direction, apparently having forgotten she was not wearing modest attire at all and that Cassian was desperately trying to keep his eyes on her face instead of her chest.

“I promise not to tell anyone if you did”

And then Nesta Archeron gave a little sideway smile that made Cassian lose his breath.

He did not know what he had done that made her take such liberties with him, but he for sure was not going to complain.

“I did not cry” he finally managed to answer, angling his body in her direction and smirking when he saw a faint blush adorning her cheeks “But I will not be heartless and say it did not move me a little.”

They were close once again. So close Nesta could see that his eyes had little green speckles on them and that the brown looked like molten chocolate.

They were eyes one could drown and all she wanted to do was to indeed drown on them.

“Next time Lady Drake plans on coming to Pemberley I will make sure to invite you too” Cassian said softly, straightening himself “It is quite late. I will accompany you to your room.”

As if on cue, Nesta yawned, quickly covering her mouth with her hand.

“I only have one chapter left” she tried to argue, suppressing another yawn.

“Such a headstrong lady you are” he smiled and took the candlelight “The book will still be here tomorrow.”

Nesta followed him begrudgingly, twisting her nose in annoyance even though she was yet again holding back another yawn. Cassian thought she looked like a tiny angry kitten, laughing internally.

They walked back to her room in a comfortable silence, and sooner than he would have liked they had arrived.

“Well, then, here we are. Delivered safe and sound”

“Thank you, your grace” Nesta opened the door but did not get inside, as if she too did not want to part with him.

“Have a goodnight of sleep, my lady” he said, dropping a kiss on her hand before he could dwell too long on it.

“Goodnight, your grace” she breathlessly answered, finally getting inside and leaving Cassian standing outside her door.

Needless to say, both fell asleep quickly after that.

~•~

“For Cauldron’ sake are you incapable of sending prior notice of your arrival? And it is way too early to be drinking wine Morrigan, even for you”

Cassian had arrived to have breakfast and found Rhysand’s cousin casually seated at table, twirling her glass of wine at nine in the morning.

“I came here straight from Vivian’s. It was a long journey and I needed the wine. Besides, I am family! I knew you were going to like my surprise visit” Mor blinked at him.

“Always a pleasure to see you” Cassian answered, sitting beside her and promptly dumping a large portion of bacon and eggs on his plate “I take you introduced yourself to my other guests?”

“Of course” she snorted, making Georgiana laugh “Except for Miss Carynthian and Sir Oristian, that is. It seems they went into town early to see something in relation to their business.”

As if on cue, the dining room doors were open and Balthazar and Emerie walked in.

Emerie had opted to wear trousers today — Cassian thought it was to not be belittled by some stupid mercants and show with just who they were dealing with — and a white shirt with long sleeves with a forest green vest. Her curly brown hair was down and she had a gleam in her eyes that told him her business transaction had been a success.

She really was a sight to behold but it still startled him when Mor spat out her wine.

Mor never wasted wine.

“Sorry for our late arrival, Balthazar was being a weakling” Emerie said, sitting in front of a very much flustered Morrigan.

“I was not. You are the one who never lets the other have the upper hand” Balthazar pointed out.

“Please, you know that piece of silk was not worth that much!” she spread jam in a piece of toast, waving the knife in a rather aggressive manner.

“Maybe, but if you keep that up you will gather more enemies than business partners”

“Good thing I have you as my bodyguard” she batted her eyelashes innocently, making Balthazar roll his eyes.

“You are Miss Carynthian. The Miss Carynthian?” Mor asked in awe, her coughing fit finally over.

“The one and only. I take you know my shop?” Emerie asked with a smile.

“I absolutely adore your designs!” Mor gushed, and they fell in a very excited talk about gowns and fashion trends.

“Did you have a goodnight of sleep?” Cassian whispered to Nesta, who was seated beside him.

“I did, thank you for your concern, your grace” she answered, grabbing a chocolate cookie “I hope you also had a pleasant sleep?”

“The best sleep I had in years” he winked at her, that sideway smile of hers appearing again.

“Lady Nesta, my brother has told me how brilliantly your dancing  is” Georgiana butted in, and Cassian resisted the urge to throttle her.

His younger sister was lucky there were other people present or he would do just that.

“He is too kind, my dancing is not that memorable” Nesta said, a bit embarrassed.

“But my brother never lies!” Georgiana exclaimed, receiving a glare from Cassian “He told me how the whole ballroom stopped to watch you as you danced.”

“Oh, thank you for the compliment your grace”

“It was nothing but the truth” Cassian assured her, sending daggers at Georgiana, who was sweetly seated by his other side as if she had not just told Nesta how infatuated with her he was.

“I wish I had your talent” Georgie sighed “I am really shy at balls and never really want to dance even if I am asked to. I usually throw my dancing card in the trash in fear someone will write their name there.”

“But I love to watch my brothers running from the scary mammas” she added with a devilish grin, failing in a brotherly bickering with Cassian.

Nesta felt her heart break over Georgiana’s fear of dancing. Apart from reading, dancing was one of the few things that brought Nesta joy. It made her feel alive, the music allowing her to get lost on the moment and forget the pressures high society placed upon her.

Dancing made Nesta feel empowered, in control of her own destiny.

Georgiana deserved to feel like that too.

And that is why when Emerie, Gwyn and Mor went shopping together while the gentlemen went horse riding, Nesta proposed that she teach Georgiana how to dance.

“Are you sure of it?” Georgiana asked nervously, glancing around the music room as if someone was going to appear out of nowhere and laugh at her poor performance.

“Rest assured. You will be dancing flawlessly at the end of the day” Nesta gave her a reassuring smile “I am going to take the male role, so please place your hand on my shoulder.”

Georgiana did as instructed, and soon they were dancing.

“You just need to have fun and relax” Nesta said, making Georgiana twirl “Even if you do not know the steps but act like you do nobody will blink. Dancing is not something that is supposed to be suffocating, but to free you.”

“You mean like this?” the young girl asked, and did a step completely opposite of what was expected in a waltz that made Nesta laugh and follow her.

In no time they were not dancing the waltz but just messing around, their laughs and delighted screams filling the room. They were having so much fun that they were oblivious to Cassian watching them from the door.

The gentlemen had returned to Pemberley and decided to move to the game room, their initial amiable horse riding outing transformed into a racing competition whose draw made Balthazar and Azriel — who revealed themselves to be extremely competitive — propose a rematch in a billiard game.

Cassian soon grew tired of watching them betting who would win, deciding to fetch a book to help distract himself. He was called to the music room by the sound of loud laughs, his heart threatening to burst when he saw Nesta and his sister having so much fun.

“When are we to expect a proposal, my lord?” Mrs. Potts said to him, having stopped to welcome him back when she noticed just who he was watching.

“I have no idea what you are talking about” he answered, a soft smile on his face as Nesta dipped Georgiana, making her laugh even louder.

“It is clear as day to all of us how much that lovely lady means to you” the old headmaid replied “I have never seen you happier since she arrived here.”

“I assure you, there is nothing going on between us.”

“Do not let your fears stop you from being happy” Mrs.Potts motherly said, noticing his bitter tone “You more than anyone deserve to be happy and feel loved. And I noticed how she looks at you, I do not know why you cannot see it.”

“Such busybody staff that I have” was all he said, Mrs.Potts smiling and leaving him alone to continue his watch.

But it appeared their talking had warned them of his presence.

“Brother! Were you spying on us?”

“Far from it Georgie. I thought nobody was home but your laughs made me want to investigate” he stepped inside, closing the door behind him “Balthazar and Az are so competitive they were giving me a headache”

“Nesta was teaching me how to dance” Georgiana said, a bright smile on her face.

“I saw it. She is a great teacher” Cassian said, and Nesta had to look away lest he saw how much happy his words had made her.

“I have a great idea!! Why don’t I play music in the pianoforte and you two dance? That way it would be much easier to see how to dance properly”

Nesta panicked at Georgiana’s words. Last time she had danced with Cassian it had been out of spite for his comment. She would not deny that she had found him a pleasant partner or that she had had fun dancing with him, but Nesta doubted he would want to dance with her again.

However, little did she know Cassian could not have been happier than the moment his sister suggested such a thing.

“That is a wonderful idea Georgie” he said to his sister, all the while planning to write to Rhysand concerning an increase in Georgiana’s dowry.

He had already forgiven her words earlier at breakfast.

Didn’t she say she wanted a new horse? He could arrange for one to be delivered first thing in the morning tomorrow.

Georgiana clapped her hands in excitement, leaving them standing in front of each other as she sat by the piano.

“You are not dancing!” she called out, her fingers moving expertly on the piano keys.

Cassian cleared his throat, offering his hand.

“May I have this dance?”

Nesta accepted his hand, placing her other on his shoulder.

“You may”

They fell in that pleasant and calming atmosphere as Georgiana played, Cassian leading her effortlessly, but she felt he was cautious, even a little stiff.

“I do not bite, your grace”  Nesta said, daring to tease him “You do not have to be afraid.”

“I would not mind if you did” he said back without thinking, his eyes widening as he realised he had said that out loud.

“I beg your pardon. I did not mean—” Cassian made to release her hand and step away but Nesta gripped his shoulder harder, stopping him.

“Do not tell me the great General Commander is left without a strategy when it comes to some defenceless lady” Nesta appeared to be nonchalant on the outside, but inside she was apprehensive.

What if she had gone too far? What if he did not see her as a friend? What if he was bothered by her teasing?

But to her relief he gave her that smirk of his that made her blood boil, stepping closer to her, their chests touching.

“For you, I have no strategies.”

And they really began to dance.

The music was still there. Georgiana played beautifully and on another occasion Nesta would have wanted nothing more than to just sit and listen all day to her playing.

But the music was no longer the most beautiful thing in existence.

Nesta got lost on him as they danced, the music a faraway background sound.

She got lost on his bright smile and noticed he had dimples.

She got lost on the way he moved with her, a body made for brutality which now moved with grace, keeping up with her.

She got so lost on his warm eyes — more green than brown at the moment —  that she felt herself moving even closer, her breath mingling with his.

“Cassian—” his name left her lips without her consent, and she almost froze when she noticed she had not used his title.

Cassian did not care, his smile only getting brighter.

“You may call me informally. We are friends, are we not Nesta?” he said quietly.

“Yes, we are.” she answered, her body tingling all over at the way he said her name, as if it was a prayer to the Mother.

Georgiana — having taken notice of the rather romantic mood — started a new song as soon as the other finished, neither of the pair paying her no mind.

Next morning, Cassian gave her a new horse, the fastest and most sought out in the market. No one had the barest ideia how he managed to get hold of it so fast, or why he was gifting it to Georgiana.

Neither explained the reason, just shaking on it as if it was a business transaction.

•

Tags: @sayosdreams​ @thewayshedreamed​ @sjm-things​ @perseusannabeth​ @arinbelle​ @caotica-e-quieta​ @vidalinav​ @swankii-art-teacher​ @ireallyshouldsleeprn​ @duskandstarlight​ @d0riansgray​ @thegoddessaltenia​ @dayanna-hatter​ @verypaleninja​ @awesomelena555​ @courtofjurdan​ @valkyriewarriors​ @moe8​ @illyrianwitchling13​ @silvernesta​ @bri-loves-sunflowers​ @queenestarcheron​ @imwritingthesewords​ @vasudharaghavan​ @rainbowcheetah512​ @darkshadowqueensrule​ @letstakethedawn​ @starlightorstarfire​ @city-of-fae​ @thalia-2-rose​ @nestaarcher0n​ @rowaelinismyotp​ @julemmaes​ @dontgetsalmonella​ @alinaleksanders​ @lysandra-tiara​ @inardour​ @hikari274​ @fatimafares123​ @angelina-figjam​ @castielspelvis​ @lanyjoy-13​ @firebirdofscythia​ @illyrianundercover​

{Please let me know if you’d like to be added to my Fixed Tag list}

[dhwty-writes]

On the Benefits of Trancing

This is a bit late, but was in fact written for Day 2 of sgtober, Can't Sleep. It's very fluffy, have fun reading! 

Summary: There are several reasons why Essek prefers trancing over sleeping. Firstly, as difficult as it may be to leave yourself vulnerable for eight hours at a time, he finds it even more challenging to imagine his friends defenceless. Secondly, sleep, inevitably, will give birth to dreams. And no matter if they are foul or fair, they torture him all the same. And lastly, well—.Essek reminisces about the strange habit of sleeping and his even stranger habit of sharing his bed with Caleb whenever he can't sleep.

Warnings: None, as far as I’m aware

Read on AO3

Sleep is a curious thing, Essek muses, that he doesn't understand and hasn't particularly cared for up until this point. It is a childish thing, and wild and vulnerable and oh-so terribly time consuming. Truth be told, for most of his life he has pitied the other races who are forced to bow to the whims of nature in that way.

Like so many things, that changed when he met the Mighty Nein. Well, not when he met them necessarily—back then he may or may not have been quietly plotting their demise for returning his carefully stolen beacons—but certainly when he started travelling with them.

As many aspects of elven cultures are, trancing is a solitary activity, a silent contemplation of one's most private thoughts to better cope with them. Shock and surprise don't even begin to cover his feelings when Caleb first cast his dome and Essek found out that sleeping, as many things for the Mighty Nein, is a rather communal event.

He had eight whole hours to come to terms with those implications—did they not realise what it meant, the trust one had to place in another to sleep in front of them? Did they not care? Or did they, by some miracle, in fact trust him that much?

When he came out of his trance the next morning, he realised some of the members of the Nein had moved during the night, curling closer to and around each other. Cuddling, they called it, and Essek's pity melted away, turning into something more bitter, more poisonous. Envy.

There is something about sitting upright, floating a few inches off the ground while surrounded by people holding each other that can make you feel so incredibly lonely, and that has to say something. Nearly a century of solitude spent between too-large, too-empty towers, too-secretive and too-pious schools, and a too-scheming and too-paranoid court have never left him feeling as isolated and bereft as that morning with the Nein did.

Of course, back then he didn't have the words to describe the feelings swirling in his chest. Nor did he have the words to ask for them to include him in their affections, lest he be presumptuous. That, to quote Caleb Widogast, takes time. Surprisingly little of it, if he is perfectly honest.

A few months down the line, he stopped floating while trancing and when he resurfaced the next morning, he found himself leaning against Fjord, who had taken the last watch. When he jerked away in embarrassment, Fjord blinked awake, too, a disgruntled look on his face, growling that he should stop moving around so much.

Despite his shame, Essek complied and held completely still until the rest of the Nein woke up. After that, he began to dabble into the casual intimacy his friends share. He even tried to sleep, occasionally.

In the beginning, he felt very self-conscious about it. He would wake up with messy hair, or drool on his pillow, or, worst of all, tucked close to Caleb. Another effect of the Mighty Nein, though, is that they very quickly rid you of your sense of shame. So, he no longer cares if he looks a mess, if his clothes are rumpled, or if he's getting spit on Veth's backpack. Just the last thing he can't help but feel embarrassed about.

There are several reasons why he still prefers trancing, though. Firstly, as difficult as it may be to leave yourself vulnerable for eight hours at a time, he finds it even more challenging to imagine his friends defenceless. He much prefers being able to watch over them for at least half of that time.

Secondly, sleep, inevitably, will give birth to dreams. And if sleep is childish, wild, and vulnerable, dreams are tenfold so. He often contemplates his crimes during his trances, as well as the discarded timelines, the lost possibilities that could have led to even more death, destruction, and despair. He frequently considers members of the Assembly lording their victory over him, disposing of him, torturing his friends. However, in his trance, he can choose to abandon these timelines. Dreams offer no such luxury. Once in their cruel grasp, you have no choice but to see them through.

Nightmares are one thing, but dreams are another. Even the pleasant ones often come unbidden, worming themselves through his subconscious to pluck out— What exactly Essek should call them, he isn't sure. He wouldn't dare name them wishes or hopes, for that would imply a certain level of possibility for them to come true. These visions are desires, more like, though that term implies a certain passion that does not fit the circumstance.

These unsought fantasies often include the Mighty Nein, years or decades from now. How they would still seek him out, include him in their midst. He dreams of feasts and festivals, of hugs and humour, of truthfulness and trust. And then there are other, even more forbidden dreams featuring him and Caleb. He dreams of soft kisses and gentle caresses, lazy nights spent in the tower reading books, of research and adventures and normalcy, of waking up as close to each other every day as they do from time to time on accident. He would love his future to look like this, but he knows there is a very little chance for that.

So, no matter if the dreams are foul or fair, they torture him all the same.

And lastly, well—

There is a knock on his door and Essek's heart lurches. "Come in," he calls as calmly as he can manage, forcing himself to slowly close the book he hasn't been reading instead of slamming it shut and scrambling to his feet.

The door opens silently, as all doors within the tower do, and Caleb slips inside. He's wearing simple sleeping clothes and Essek silently curses himself for already closing the book, so he can't even pretend to read that instead. "I, ah— I'm sorry for intruding... again," Caleb says, self-consciously tugging at his sleeves. "I hope I didn't wake you?"

"Not at all," he answers, barely keeping himself from saying: 'I was waiting up.' Instead, he opts for: "I was still reading."

"Anything interesting?"

"Are you trying to tell me that you have stored uninteresting books in your mind, Caleb Widogast?"

"Plenty," he deadpans and Essek chuckles.

"It's called The Creation of Silver." He turns the plain cover over to Caleb, to jog his memory. Based on what he could gather by skimming the first pages, it promises to be a rather run of the mill romance novel following the story of a Dwendalian noble trying to escape their arranged marriage. "So far, I find it quite entertaining."

"Ah, yes." Caleb quickly glances away, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. "Have you reached the part where Stefan leaves for the city yet?"

"I have not."

"Then I will not spoil you." Another tug on his sleeve. "The plot really picks up at that point."

Essek tilts his head to the side, studying Caleb. According to the clock in his room, it is past midnight, which is quite late for the human to still be awake. Yet, he is just hovering in his doorway, caught between stepping inside and leaving again. "I presume you did not come here to discuss my evening reading matter."

"Ah..." He tugs at his sleeves again. "No, I did not." As always, Caleb is as incapable of voicing his needs as Essek is.

Thankfully, Essek is not nearly as apprehensive when it comes to his friends' well-being as he is when his own is concerned. "Should you have trouble sleeping, you know you are more than welcome to stay. Seeing as we are to make progress tomorrow, I am very invested in you having a restful night."

Not being able to sleep is another thing about that practice that Essek cannot understand. Trancing is a matter of will, discipline, and tranquillity and he's always assumed sleep to be the same. He supposes it is, to some degree.

But travelling with the Mighty Nein, and Caleb specifically, has taught him that you cannot force sleep. There are circumstances under which they will toss and turn for hours, unable to find rest. Not even Beau's meditation, which he considered relatively close to his trance, seemed capable to calm a disturbed mind enough for sleep.

He has, however, also discovered that for certain members of the Mighty Nein, certain methods will accomplish the necessary peace of mind. Caduceus' tea appears to be able to work miracles, time and time again. Beauregard likes to tire herself out by running drills, while Jester usually draws in her sketchbook. Yasha tends to make flower crowns or, lacking flowers, braid other people's hair. Essek has been subjected to that numerous times so far and despite his aversion to Dynasty braids, he doesn't hate it. Fjord usually ties sailor's knots, and Veth sorts through her various collections.

Caleb, though? Caleb, for some reason, only needs another person to fall asleep next to. And for some reason, despite the numerous options he has, he chooses Essek more often than not. Not that he's complaining, of course. In fact, he may enjoy it a little too much.

Caleb laughs quietly as he often does at their antics. They have long since learned the rules to this strange game they are playing. "Well, if you put it like this..." he says as he rids himself of his slippers—Hausschuhe, he has explained to Essek, a very important part of Zemnian culture—and puts them next to Essek's. "I would hate to disappoint you, Herr Thelyss."

'You couldn't,' he thinks as he pulls back the covers. Instead, he says: "Indeed." As always, he freezes in place when Caleb joins him on the bed, scooting closer until they are nearly touching. Being this close to each other is not getting any less mortifying, no matter how long it has been since Caleb first came knocking on his door.

He still remembers that night in vivid detail. As so often, Essek has been reading and just got up to get a cup of tea. When he stepped out of his rooms, he nearly collided with a wizard who had convinced himself that his suffering wasn’t important enough to trouble him with. “Do you want to come in?” he said to his own surprise. To his even bigger surprise, Caleb accepted.

They sat on Essek’s couch and talked about everything and nothing at once. Hours later, with his throat gone dry, Essek asked: “Shouldn’t you be asleep by now?” The moments the words left his mouth he knew he’d said something wrong.

Caleb shot to his feet as if burned and Essek followed suit. “I am so sorry, friend. I will not continue to disturb you any—”

“Where are you going?” he interrupted him, perhaps a little irritated. “Give me some credit, Caleb Widogast; I am capable of far subtler ways to rid myself of an unwelcome visitor. Which you are not.”

He laughed self-consciously and said: “Regardless, I should go and rest. Schlaf gut, Herr Thelyss.”

“You could stay,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. “I mean—I noticed your sleep to be more restful when you are around others. I am aware that I am not your first choice, but since the others are not here—You’re welcome to stay, if it at all helps.”

Caleb hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Certainly.”

“In Ordnung,” he answered finally. Essek is still glad he had thought to float for that conversation. That way, at least, his knees didn’t give out.

A short discussion about who should take the bed followed before they stubbornly agreed to share it. Essek came to regret that immediately after when he was confronted with the practical implications of ‘sharing a bed’.

“Make yourself at home,” he said. Caleb took some time to rearrange the pillows and blankets—just like he does now—while Essek hovered nearby. Literally.

It took several reminders from Caleb for Essek to not instinctively recast his floating cantrip, but eventually they managed to lie down next to each other with a minimal amount of awkwardness. They have moved past that initial apprehensiveness by now, Essek thinks while he pretends to read. Shortly after, Caleb flops down, close enough that Essek can feel his breath ghosting over his cheeks.

“Good night, Caleb Widogast,” Essek says, stubbornly staring at the pages and nowhere else. "Do you want me to dim the lights?" He doesn't need them anyways; he just likes to appreciate the room Caleb made for him in all of its colours.

"No, I think I would like to read a bit. I am quite fond of that book."

"You are?" Essek looks down to him in surprise. ‘If Caleb tilts his head,’ the thought hits him, ‘he could rest it on my shoulder.’ He just thought it to be one of the countless books Caleb has read in his life, nothing special. "Why?"

He blushes again. "Ah— I think you'll see. The title is more literal than one would assume."

He considers the book once more, trying to discern what Caleb means with his words. ‘Luxon help me,’ he sends a silent prayer. It wouldn’t be the first time for him to pick up a romance novel that turns out to be quite a bit more explicit than anticipated. To think that such a mistake may have happened to him with Caleb so close—He thinks he might just combust from embarrassment.

"Do you mind flipping the page?" Caleb asks with a yawn, startling Essek out of his thoughts.

"Oh, of course," he says belatedly and turns the page. He hasn't read the last one yet, but nor has he read the one before, so it hardly matters. The novel has a rather shallow plot, so he has no trouble picking it up three pages later, and he's done so by design.

“Thank you.” He yawns again, louder this time and burrows down further into his pillows. “Gute Nacht, mein Schatz,” he mumbles and freezes as if he only now realises what he said. He seems to wait for an answer, but when Essek fails to provide a wrong one, he just smiles up at him and says: “Schlaf wohl und g’sund, bis morgen früh’s Kaffeele kommt.”

“I don’t understand you,” Essek tells him just as quietly, “but you can translate tomorrow.” After a moment of hesitation, he adds in Undercommon: “Sweet dreams, my dear. I’ll be here when you wake up.” He quickly glances back at his book before he can do anything stupid. Such as regret his words. Or kiss him goodnight.

Still, with Caleb reading along he does his best to at least somewhat read the novel. It’s a very flowery language, occasionally dropping Zemnian words Essek doesn’t know. Judging by Caleb’s grumbling at least some of them appear to be wrong. The protagonist, Stefan, seems like quite the bore. He does have a strong motivation, he supposes, to escape from the dreary life that awaits him in his arranged marriage. Besides that, and his general cold-hearted demeanour, he can’t discern any defining characteristics.

He finally reaches the part Caleb asked him about—Stefan leaving for the big city—when another character is introduced, presumably his love interest. He appears to be about as compelling as the protagonist, until— Essek snorts quietly. “Caleb Widogast,” he chides softly, “is this a love story about wizards?”

At first, he doesn’t answer and Essek briefly considers the option of Caleb wilfully ignoring him. Then, there’s a barely audible snore. When he glances down in surprise, the human is leaning against his shoulder, soundly asleep. He noisily chews on a strand of his hair, a bit of drool dripping onto Essek’s shoulder.

For a moment he can’t help but stare, a dopey smile on his face. He quickly arrives at the conclusion that something as disgusting as that has absolutely no business being as endearing as it is. But for some reason he doesn’t mind at all.

Moving carefully and slowly, in order not to disturb Caleb’s sleep, he puts down The Creation of Silver. It is getting rather late and he probably should begin his trance, if he wants to wake before Caleb's inevitable departure.

He leans back, wiggling a bit to find a comfortable position. He thinks he's doing a good job of not rousing Caleb until the human grunts quietly. Essek freezes, fearing he may have woken him, but instead of opening his eyes, Caleb just shifts closer to him, throwing an arm and a leg across his lap to hold him tight.

Essek looks down at his... friend with a fond expression. After a moment of consideration, he reaches down to brush the strand of hair behind his ear.  

Sometimes, he feels like he can barely contain all the love he feels for this man within himself. One day, perhaps, he might even find the courage to tell him so.

Zemnian Translations:

Hausschuhe - slippers. In fact a Very Important German thing. Can't wear your normal shoes indoors, so you need special house shoes. Schlaf gut, Herr Thelyss. - Sleep well, Mister Thelyss. Gute Nacht, mein Schatz. -  Good night, my darling. (lit. treasure) Schlaf wohl und g'sund, bis morgen früh's Kaffeele kommt. - Sleep well and sound until tomorrow morning the little coffee arrives. (My Caleb is Suebian now and I don't take criticism. I was writing this when I suddenly remembered this sentence my parents used to say to me and I thought if my sleep deprived brain remembers things like that, it would only be appropriate if Caleb's did too.)

[srbachchan]

DAY 4782

Jalsa, Mumbai                  Apr 2,  2021                Fri 11:32 PM

precautions abound at work .. the atmosphere is filled with excessive movements to clean to sanitise to purify to be in the regulated suit , to be distant to be masked and shielded in conversation .. to touch me nots , to no affectionate embrace or of welcome .. to a deathly silence on the set .. 

its unnerving .. but its also precautionary .. that ambience of the yesteryears has disappeared .. the playfulness, the chatter, the noise of creativity the excitement of brilliance,  of instant invention , ad lib presentations , the recognition of hail fellow well met .. the unrecognised faces of recognised friends .. the uniformity of the virus prevention dress .. err .. what is it called .. ah yes Googled and got .. the PPE unit .. all .. 

.. and you come away leaving nothing behind .. as in the past ..

.. each conversation is on ‘how are you ..’ .. congratulations for being brave enough to take the vaccination .. are you alright .. any feelings .. pain headache , drowsy .. anything .. feverish .. “

.. where they seat me for the vaccination is on a Hospital bed in room for the vaccinations  .. to where the vaccinations are taking place  ..  several paper work and officious looking personnel around .. name address mobile consent previous medical history, Aadhar card , remain seated for half an hour .. take a picture of the moment .. can you get and walk , need assistance .. all the best , you shall have to take the next one in 6 weeks , the certificate shall show just one , after the second the certificate shall get validity .. 

.. concerned on the line all day .. how is it going, any negatives .. 

.. no so far so good ..

.. then the visitors and their queries .. its controversial this whole business of vaccine .. how has it been made so soon , its efficacy cannot be guaranteed, this one is good this is one has had issues , why this why that , why not wait , why rush .. no but the research has been on for several years ever since Sars and other ones that broke and Covid is the 19th strain of it so the research was aware of it and hence the rapid evolvement .. will you be safe after it , will it hit you again .. still isolate , precaution and safety .. keep it going ..

DEAR me ..

I am concerned and edgy about what I shall be writing here tonight, when I shall retire .. the retire to bed for sleep .. not as some wise put it out in breaking that its was taking boots off .. what shall transpire at the script read tomorrow morning with entire cast .. oh  oh oh .. no we cannot all meet together in Janak .. fresh precautions by medical .. so Zoom Zindabad .. and the first day of shoot day after .. hell .. another fresh day of another venture and .. anxiety nervousness and the incapability of performance .. the eye in distress .. the incapacitation the handicap and another in exercise now .. how many more to come .. each incident leaves a mark - pun unintended !

.. computer somewhat behaving .. got across the tech special .. one button pressed and all is fine .. damn .. such simplicity of operation and yearning my hair out .. mobile malfunction .. remotely fixed in a minute call .. 

AND yes .. the working of the present and the future .. REMOTE .. श्री ऊत   Covid 19, भैया , took care of that .. everything from now on on remote test remote formulae .. never before in the history of the universe was it ever thought or imagined .. well it was , but perhaps in the myths .. but then it was the myths .. 

TIRED .. tired of description .. of narration .. of informing or sublimating .. of psychoanalytic theories of the present devastated conditioning all about .. 

ENOUGH .. enough no more, ‘tis’ not so sweet as it was before’ ..

It is now past the hour of midnight and the corner time indicates its 1:09 AM .. !

And the reason for the delayed write - Babuji ..

Volume 8 of the 11 that lie beside me of his collection is pulled out quite by instinct and the pages turn before me , and the life of the autobiographical narration devours you .. it mesmerises the time and the read form one paragraph to another .. each line unfolding before me in a vision of such deep credit that it is Babuji before me speaking .. in his tone and voice .. endearing informative .. filled with the sound of literature poetry life philosophy ..

I close the Vol 8 abruptly and sit back .. what do I do in this world if I have not lived the intricate description of father to imbibe and share and distribute to them that did never give the deserved recognition to him .. I dare not speak of a commitment here and now for the fear of never being able to register the creative genius of the poet writer philosopher .. Babuji ..

The frustration of whether there shall be sleep tonight or not is oblivious to the facts of reality in that that stands by me in each moment .. seeking asking to be opened and read written and explored ..

I have no answers .. 

hahaha .. I have answers to the requests of the well wisher .. to the neighbour .. to the want of the needy .. to the oppressed .. 

But I have no answers to that which lies beside me .. a shame .. 

get out of it dear AB .. so long as it gives the strength of its presence positioned by you .. savour it .. a day shall come when it will give the impetus to do what it could not get in the lifetime of time ..  

YES ..

And all I have for the ones of the Ef that encounter this is the work done by the day and its visuals ..

REALLY .. ?

.. sombre .. silent .. not a word spoken ..

QUESTION .. !!

What is it that provokes decision .. ? 

And does every provocation truly and honestly gets its derivative from instinct fate or deliberation to devastation  ??

ONCE DEVASTATED NEVER CAPABLE OF REVERSAL TO ANY PROVOCATION

Amitabh Bachchan

[acknowledgetheabsurd]

“My darling love, I woke up this morning trying to concentrate all my strength to get through this day that normally should bring me nothing from you. You can easily imagine my surprise, my joy, my gratitude, my explosion of life and love, when suddenly I heard the doorbell ringing and when I was handed your letter. It took me a long time to unseal it. It was so good. But my happiness was not great enough; nothing can compare to what I felt when I read you. Only one thing made me sad. It was Catherine's accident. What happened to her? What can glasses do in that case? Is it very pronounced or are you exaggerating a little? When did it happen to her? Is she herself worried about it? Are you very scared?

The tone of your letter reassured me about all my worries, which were not the least, about your health: but I believe that everything is going as I had hoped; Paris has softened a bit the evil of the tropics; Avignon and finally the the mountains will do the rest. At last! Eat, sleep, breathe, love and think that here I am waiting for you as calmly as I can - I need strength and patience! - but happy, happy as I have never been happy before, sure of you, of me, of us, and ready to brave death even if it comes, to welcome you soon, with the clearest look you have ever seen in your life.

Yet, it cannot be said that everything conspires to help me; you remain, in absence itself, my only companion - fever and rest. My father is suffering a little at the moment from an uncertain time and a melancholic state of mind (the word is far from being right, but it is the one he used). When I stay at home and Pitou comes to have his meals at our house, I spend my time tying my nerves, which only have those moments to relax. And when I get out it's to go and try on my Orpheus costumes - a great test! - or to go shooting in the middle of Paris, surrounded by people who are and will be decidedly foreign to me in everything and for everything, surrounded by an unrestrained, enraged crowd, who shout, gesticulate, laugh, protest or criticize every one of our movements; they only become human, benevolent, charitable when they come close to us and then the signature-autographs that we have to make on a chain, prevent us from looking at them. It is a real torture.

I'm on my second day of work and I'm just making a miserable wish: to get back to the studio as soon as possible. As for the details, I've written them down in my diary as I go along. I'll have them read to you, if you like. Tomorrow I'm resting, and if the weather continues to be good, I have a five-day vacation; then - or before that, if it rains - we start shooting at the Francœur Studios, leaving the rest of the exteriors for a little later. Since your departure, outside of work, no important events have taken place.

I think you know about the death of Madeleine's mother. I don't remember if it happened before or during your stay in America. In any case, I hear that since then Madeleine has had a sick neck nerve, which gives her terrible headaches. Papa claims that she scratched herself and poisoned herself; but he doesn't know her. I've seen her live and I can't help but be touched by it; that's why I'd like you to send her a nice little note when you get back.

Work has been going well and the proposals are raining; but it's strange, it doesn't make me hot or cold. The idea of playing Judith, which transported me a little last year, leaves me indifferent today. As for The Princess Death ... let's not talk about it. Only Dora succeeds - and succeeds well! - to hold my attention, to keep me busy and preoccupied, and it is not only because you are the author. I also feel tired, and I think that my disinterestedness is mainly due to this fact. Your letter has swept everything away and tonight I feel alive again. Now I have to sleep. Tomorrow I'll get up ready for anything. Oh my love, if you only knew how good it is to carry you! I love you, I love you."

- Maria Casarès  to Albert Camus, Correspondance, September 11, 1949 [#90]

[redhawtriot]

Baby Boom (Bakugou x Reader)

Tip Jar ☕- Not expected but always appreciated💞

I felt as though since this story had such a specific narrative (especially delving into the harsh world of modeling and the effects of discrimination) that it would reach out to a very specific niche of reader.

I was actually astonished by loud support this fic has obtained so for, so thank you so much! I cannot stress enough how much that means to me. 

HnM 💕

Tag-list: @steggy4ever​ @library-trash​ @watevermelon​ @glimmadora-ble​ @persephones24​ @dragonempress123​ @your-pri-ncess @broken-from-fandoms​ @hot-pocket01​ @tsukineho​

Month 1, Month 3

--Month 2--

No.

You looked at the stick of plastic in your hand with wide eyes as your mouth stuttered into a slack jaw—your breaths hardly making their way in and out of your lungs evenly.

You squeezed your eyes shut so hard that you saw white spots underneath your lids before you snapped them back open again, internally praying that you would wake up form whatever nightmare you were having.

However, you couldn’t blink away the big, fat smiley face that stared back up at you from the piece of purple and white plastic that sealed your fate.

No. No. No!

The sudden urge to puke came back with a vengeance and you threw yourself to the toilet, slamming your knees to the ground in the process. As your stomach lurched up into your chest, you couldn’t tell whether the tears forming in your eyes were from the harshness of the motion or something else entirely.

“Gah!” you loudly choked out as you pulled away from the mess in the toilet. 

Once the nausea became slightly less debilitating you leaned back against your bathtub, throwing your head up as you groaned to the ceiling, “No, no, no, nooo…” you softly sobbed. You tried your best to keep from bawling so you didn’t find yourself with your head back in the bowl, but you couldn’t help the stream of hot tears that spilled from your eyes as you stared at the vent in the ceiling.

How could this happen? How could you be… pr...

A sudden stirring in your gut made you swallow hard as you tried to keep your stomach out of your throat.

Don’t be an idiot, Y/N. You took sex education in high school. You put the condom on the banana and were scolded with constant threats of STDs and the fires of Hell like everybody else. So yeah. You know how it happened.

You sighed as you thought back to all the guys you had slept with recently-- which was luckily not too many within the past few months, and only one since your last period.

Fuck, you didn’t even remember what the damn fathe-- guy looked like.

Well, excluding his rippling muscles.

You threw your head into your hands as the uncanny image of a body builder newborn infiltrated your mind. Well, that didn’t fucking help at all. Grabbing your hair tightly as you stared at the tile between your legs, you cursed yourself, “You dumbass! How could you be so goddamn stupid!? Stupid, stupid, stupid!” you repeatedly knocked against your skull.

You reached into the recesses of your memory for any information you might have about the guy. Where was his apartment again...? On the other side of town somewhere right… Near Club 52? God, you didn’t even fucking know! and what did it matter anyway, huh? What were you gonna do? Storm up to his place, pregnancy tests a-blazin’, and tell the complete stranger that you were carrying his kid?!

With a weak and tired moan, you lifted yourself off of your bathroom floor and went to the sink to rinse your bile infested mouth out and wash the salty tears off of your cheeks.

But not before you got a good look at yourself in the mirror.

Swollen eyes.

Red nose.

Drying, teary snot pooling on the rim of your upper lip.

“You look like shit,” you harshly reprimanded yourself before turning the sink on and sticking your face into the cool water. Your hands blindly reached around your counter until you finally grabbed a nearby hand towel to bring to your face. As you patted your cheeks dry, your eyes wandered to the counter where three other positive pregnancy tests that you had taken earlier that morning resided.

The trio all sported a similar smug smile as they looked up to you as if to say ‘we told you so.’

The little shits.

“Shut up.” You quickly grabbed all four tests and with a hint of bitterness chucked them into a nearby trash bin before making your way to your bedroom across the hall.

Plopping down onto your screeching mattress, you took your phone out:

Boss Lady

[2:50 pm]

Hey, brat. I hope you’re doing better.

Don’t forget that we have that runway fitting next week. And the test shots. And the international scouting event.

Think. Thin.

No carbs. No red meats.

NO ALCOHOL!!!

Fucking no alcohol for nine whole months. You attempted to scoff at this, but what came out could have probably been mistaken for the last sounds of a dying animal.

Kimi:

[3:31 pm]

Hope you made it home safe last night!

As you read this text, a piece of you wished that maybe you hadn't made it home safe last night... Your brain briefly wandered into the dark territories of ‘what if’s’ as you imagined falling in front of the train at the subway, walking past a drug deal gone wrong, hell-- drowning on the water you took with your Pepto Bismol. You quickly brushed these thoughts away as you continued looking through your phone, 

Boss Lady

[4:45 pm]

Oh, also Deku just asked for a meeting with you personally.

You’re going of course. Glad you got his attention. Good girl.

Tomorrow.  5:00pm. El Vino’s downtown. (EAT LIGHTLY!)

Inches! Inches! Inches!

You slammed your phone down onto your mattress as you loudly sighed.

Inches. Your entire livelihood depended on your damn inches and now there was no way you could maintain the “golden ratio.” The thought made your blood churn.

Modeling… was all that you had. You didn’t have any other fucking talents—no quirk to depend on-- so when would your growing stomach steal your life away?

When do people even start ‘showing’? 

You haven’t come across many pregnant women, but all of the ones you have seen either looked like normal people or like freaking beach balls. For some reason your brain couldn’t conjure an intermediate.

Did they just blow up out of nowhere? If so, then when? How long could you pull a ruse off before your growing organ snitched on you? 5 months? 6 months? Next fucking week?

You realized then that you knew next to jack squat about pregnancy.

Or damn kids for that matter.

Okay so... abortion? For some reason, even just the thought of that word made an icky taste surge in your mouth—or maybe it was the leftover vomit, who knows?

To be honest, you had never really thought much on abortion before—it was one of the many topics filed into your brain under ‘that does not and will not pertain to me, so why the fuck should I care?’ Filtered out and forgotten, your feelings on abortion had yet to be developed.

Until now.

After a few beats, you opened your phone back up and began to dial Kimi, fearing that you might soon explode with the brunt of knowledge that weighed heavily upon your shoulders.

You paused.

Had you ever actually talked to her about anything that wasn’t exclusively work related? In the past two years of knowing her, have you ever actually learned anything about her, and she about you? Very suddenly, you were slapped in the face by a crude fact: Kimi was just a work-friend.

That was fucking fine and dandy up until now. You pretty much either worked, or drank, or showed up to work drunk. But now…

Shit.

Who the hell else could you call? You barely had any friends, and you hadn’t talked to your family in what felt like ages. Who was there for situations like this? If half of your life was working, and half of your life was drinking, and your work friends were a no go… what about your drinking friends? Your mind briefly fled to the stashes of your best buddies-- vodka and tequila-- that you kept in your kitchen.

But not even they could save you now.

Fuck you really were alone.

That night, you found yourself constantly flipping your pillow to find a new dry spot to assault with fresh tears. You hadn’t cried so much since you were a kid. Wait-- come to think of it, you couldn’t even remember the last time you had cried at all.

So, was it hormones? Pregnancy hormones?

The surreal thought made your tears fly down your face even more furiously.

The next evening there was practically no trace or evidence of your mental breakdown from the night before as you strolled up to El Vino’s. It was honestly kind of frightening how quickly you had managed to pull yourself together before this little meeting—but mostly, it was empowering.

Okay, Y/N. You fucking got this. Hormones or not, you were still a baddie to your very core.

Deku was easy enough to spot in the little Mediterranean themed restaurant—with the green-ass hair and all. You strolled up to the table with the warmest smile that you could muster, “Mr. Deku,” you quickly approached his table and gave a slight bow.  

“H-Hey!” You seemed to startle him with your sudden appearance. He jumped a bit in his seat and awkwardly shifted as you made your way to your own chair. His face was a bit red as you maintained your eyes on his shying expression. 

“Look, before you say anything. I just want to say sorry,” his shocked eyes suddenly snapped back up to yours as you continued, “I had no idea that the event was yours and I probably ruined the rest of the night for you. If you want me off the brand deal, then I completely understand, just... don’t blame Ainu’s agency.”

His mouth fumbled over itself for a moment, causing you to quirk an unsure eyebrow before he could finally speak up, “No t-that’s not what I am here for at all, Miss L/N.”

“Call me Y/N. please,” your smirk was a little less sure than usual and you prayed that he couldn’t detect how off he had thrown you. This was going much different than you had expected it to. For one, he wasn’t trying to ‘put you in your place for disrespecting him’ or bargain  sex ‘as an apology’ like most power hungry men in his position would.

“Okay, M-miss Y/N,” the blush that adorned his cheeks confused you even further and you felt the space between your eyebrows involuntarily tighten. That was another thing… He didn’t seem like a typical man in a position of power. He was… soft... you didn’t know how else to explain it other than unusual for a man of his size and stature.

“I actually wanted to apologize to you,” he spoke up once more and you were completely lost by then. You could only blink as he continued to speak, “You really got me thinking about things the other night-- you were totally right. The brand of my sneakers did lose its true meaning. I really meant to have it be a symbol for kids growing up without a quirk to enjoy—to give them hope, but it turned into more of an endorsement to myself. The whole thing. It was wrong. That’s why I have decided to give 100% of my personal Red Sneakers profits to establishing my Quirkless Youth Initiative,”

You looked around for any hidden cameras—any hidden agenda behind his motives before looking back to him with a stiff expression. You had to physically keep your face from scrunching, “And just how are you going to make a living out of a mindset like that?” you dared to call his bluff.

“It’s just gonna have to work. It’s what my mentor would have done—given 100%. Beyond actually.”

Holy shit. This man was being serious. ‘100% and beyond’ serious, to be exact. Your face scrunched up once more, “Why do you care so much anyway?” you cut back on your tone as you noticed his eyes widen a bit at your accusatory voice, “Not to be rude, but… what’s a strong hero like you doing caring about us quirkless?”

He seemed to be lost in thought for a moment or two. Contemplating on whether or not he was going to lie, you noticed, “I… I…  didn’t have a quirk until much later in life. I was 14. Growing up, I always wanted to be a hero, and I just wish that I had someone back then believe in me. I want to be the one that tells kid’s—with a smile-- that they can do it. That they have at least one person who believes in them.”

His name-- Deku-- it meant worthless. The puzzle pieces were finally coming together and things began to make sense. It was a name that either himself or others used to describe him when he was growing up probably, and the man had taken it and spun it around to make it his own. Even you had to admit--

“That’s pretty damn impressive,” you couldn’t help the curl that tugged into the corners of your lips as Deku bashfully looked away from you,

“It’s nothing, really!” he tried to deflect. You gave a small laugh before smoothly bringing up the glass of wine in front of you to your lips. As soon as the liquid rushed in your mouth, your eyes flew wide open with realization,

Shit! What the fuck were you doing?

You immediately spit the alcohol back into your cup and snapped your eyes back to Deku who had, thankfully, been too caught up in his own embarrassment to be paying attention to you. You gave a sigh of relief and sat the wine glass as far away from you as inconspicuously possible. 

“So,” you leaned into the table a bit to get his eyes back on you, “Tell me about this Quirkless Youth Initiative,” you smiled. 

From that point on, you and Deku actually found talking to each other relatively easy—okay, extremely easy. In fact, you stayed past the point of dinner and ended up talking at your table hours after the bill had been paid.

You talked about everything and nothing altogether and didn’t know just when to end the conversation. You lowered your borders for some reason. Well-- you knew the reason. It was because you had been dying to talk to someone since you found out that you were the ‘p-word.’

 He ended up walking you home. Past that, for the next two weeks you guys pretty much saw each other every other day or two and talked fairly regularly. Things became habitual.

In fact.

As you stood in the beaming light of the wardrobe, getting your makeup done, you found yourself stealing little glances here and there to your phone to text with your new friend, Deku. Every buzz of your phone left you with a giddy sense of excitement.

One of the models sharing the gigantic mirror with you quickly took notice of your demeanor, “What are you smiling at, Y/N?”

“She’s texting someone,” another spoke up as your friend/babysitter, Kimi strolled up next to you,

“What?! Y/N L/N texting someone back? Have we entered the Twilight Zone??” she joked. You only responded with poking your tongue out at her before your phone buzzed again, 

Deku:

[1:00 pm]

Good Luck on your runway thing today!

You:

More like run away thing🏃‍♀️💨

Deku:

I could help? Bring comfort snacks?

You:

Most of us haven’t eaten a full meal in days BB

You would literally be stampeded by women

Wait that sounded too good🤔

You will literally be stampeded by hungry women***

Deku:

You haven’t been eating?!

Since when?!

You:

That’s not what I said. 

Just pre-show prep to keep the waists snatched and the legends skinny💁‍♀️

Deku:

Sorry I don’t know how your job really works.

I’ll come over again tonight after your show and bring dinner!

If that’s okay. Sorry didn’t mean to sound pushy.

“Didn’t you hear? Her and Deku really hit it off on their date,”  Your attention was instantly snapped away from your phone screen.

You gave an ugly snort, “It wasn’t a date.” And you certainly weren’t lying. The friendly atmosphere between you and Izuku felt comfortable as best—nothing intimate about it.

You wouldn't have it any other way. It felt as though he was placed in your life to perfectly fill the holes in your boat just before you started sinking.

“Girl your phone is blowing up!” a co-worker exclaimed, loudly.

Kimi laughed as she pinched your cheeks, “Look at that smile on her face”

All of the commotion gathered the attention of Boss Lady, who was currently storming up to you with the ‘phone box’ (or phone cemetery as some of you liked to call it) in her hand. She liked to have this on her especially in big events like runways or show casings because some of the girls—you were guilty as charged—spent quite a bit of time on their phones behind the scenes, “Phone. Bin. Now.”

Usually, you would put up some type of argument or give a quick-witted remark, but this time around you only rushed to send one final text in before you threw your cellphone into the crate.

You:

[1:33pm]

I should get off at like 11 see you then broccoli boy🥦🤪

Kimi looked terrified as though she was the one who had just incurred Ainu’s wrath, “Still smiling, huh...?” 

You hadn’t even notice that you had been.

Talking to Deku really did make you happy when you needed it. Just like he spun ‘deku’ around and made it make sense, he had spun your life around and did the same. He made you feel like life was normal—whatever the hell that was. You’d never really been classified as normal anyway, but you had some impression that this resembled what it must feel like.

For a fleeting moment you think that maybe you should just sleep with Deku and pass this pregnancy off as his since you had yet to tell him-- or anyone-- about it. 

But the better half of you instantly slaps this thought out through your ears.

Hello? Welcome to psycho bitch incorporated. Seriously. What the fuck was wrong with you?

Damn, you had been separated from your phone (and Deku) for exactly 23 seconds and you were already outta your cot-damn mind. You get one friend and suddenly you don’t know how to act. 

You needed to somehow find “blond muscle man” and let him know what was up. Fuck, how were you supposed to do that when you didn’t even know his name?

The runway that night went pretty much how every single other runway went, except this time-- you opted not to attend any of the after parties. Instead, you went home and had Deku over, who delivered on his promise with sushi. 

You could smell the sushi as soon as he walked through the door and your mouth instantly watered. He really was god sent. 

The two of you settled quickly in your apartment, deciding to risk it all and eat on your living room couch to watch TV; however, you quickly noticed that the TV wasn’t the only thing that Izuku was watching. As soon as you turned to raise an eyebrow on him he feebly attempted to avert his gaze, but you caught him anyways, “What? You better stop sizing me up unless you wanna fight, Deku,” you sang as you popped another sushi roll into your mouth.

“W-what sizing you up?!”

You cackled at the sudden redness of his face, “I’m just joking. We both know I’d probably kick your ass!”

“You think so?” he actually sounded a bit nervous in his tone, causing you to roll your eyes. 

“Oh, I know so,” you shrugged with a growing smirk, “Anyway. What are you staring so hard at me for?”

The air became very still around the two of you as he looked down to think. This was something that became pretty expectant of him these past few week-- a funny little habit.

“It’s just… we’ve been hanging out a lot the past few weeks and I never really noticed it—your… dieting,” he seemed to fall into that last word a bit as if it wasn’t exactly the word that he had wanted to use. 

You knew that he meant to say ‘starving yourself’ but was too reserved for that level of bluntness. That was okay with you. You weren't particularly ready to open that can of worms, “Damn, and here I was thinkin’ I was looking pretty damn good,” you joked as the both of you began cleaning up your food mess.  

“No. That’s not what I meant I—”

“Joking! I’m just joking with you, Big D,” you found yourself using this nickname for him whenever you wanted to see his face fall into it’s deepest shades of red. It worked every single time,

“I have just been at this for a long time—modeling for Ainu’s agency. Since I was 15 actually,” you shook your head a little at the surge of nostalgia that wanted to bubble up your back. You clutched a nearby pillow and hugged it to your chest, “She scouted me at a mall food court. She changed my entire life—for the better of course. She is practically my mom... I owe her a lot,” you found yourself giving into the nostalgia a bit-- a small, fond smile tugging at your lips. You looked up after a few beats of silence filled the air and was met with Deku’s admiring stare, “What? You nerd!” you exclaimed with a giggle, chucking the pillow at him. 

“It’s nothing. I just like hearing about you. I feel like I have been doing a lot of talking about me since we have been hanging out.”

Yeah, he was a Cancer zodiac for sure. You pretty much knew his entire life’s story after only the first week of knowing him, “Are you kidding me?! Your life is straight out of a comic book, BB! I love hearing about it!” You began talking to him from out of the kitchen as you put your leftovers in the fridge,

“You went up against the League of Villains, the Vanguard Action Front and The Paranormal Liberation Front as a freshman?? You powered up from a quirkless crybaby! (Hey!) to an amazing, uprising, super considerate, overpowered crybaby on his way to number one! Your U.A. friends all seem like comic book characters, too. I love them already from what you tell me,” you closed the fridge, revealing his shocked expression.

“Really?” You nodded, igniting a spark in his eyes, “Well, I am actually having a little get together at my place for my friends if you wanna stop by.”

“Yeah sure. As long as my favorite character, Kaminari, is there,” Izuku seemed shocked and slightly offended by your choice in favorite, so you clarified, “He sounded really cool and all with his ‘chatty zappy’ thing going on,” you suddenly rolled your eyes as a bad taste emerged in your mouth, “Kacchan sounds like a little bitch baby though, no offense.”

“Y/N!”

“What?! Kacchan can ‘Kach’ these ‘hans’! Oh come on. Not even a pity laugh? A little one?” You apparently thought you were a lot funnier than Izuku did. 

“I think the two of you might actually get along. You’re very similar now that I think about it,” he trailed off on his last part, seemingly talking to himself as he grabbed his chin. 

You almost felt offended by his comparison, “Fuck that. Oppisites attract, Similars repel. Besides. Why would I wanna be friends with a little bitch baby that bullies and pisses on quirkless people?”

“Well, when you meet him next week you might like him…”

You clicked your tongue, “So now I am obligated to come, huh?” you smirked.

“N-no well that’s not what I meant but I would appreciate if you—”

You were only half paying attention to his freak out as the abrupt craving for orange juice infiltrated your mind and placed itself on the forefront of your thoughts, “Deku. I am joking!” you absentmindedly reminded him as you scoured your pantries for a wine glass. You had taken to drinking out of these instead of regular cups to at least maintain a semblance of your old self. 

Izuku’s eyes widened at the sight of your collection of wines and alcohols in one of your cupboards. You smirked at him-- throwing him  look that said ‘you ain’t seen nothin yet’ as you opened your freezer to reveal the insane hoard of alcohol you had stored.

His jaw practically dropped to the floor at the sight, “Holy woah, you have an entire liquor store in here!”

“Saving for a rainy day,” you almost immediately realized the error of your words as Izuku motions to one of the windows near you. The two of you sat in a beat of silence as the pitter-patter of rainfall splattered against the glass pane.

“It’s raining today,” he grinned excitedly. 

“No... I cant,” the way that the words fell out sounded about as convincing as a disguise with groucho glasses. You could really go for a drink right about now.

He looked to you a bit sadly, if not disappointed, “Y/N if this is about your diet… I am just saying, I don’t think one day will hurt too much.”

“No, I really shouldn't.” Understatement of the century. 

Izuku grabbed two glasses out of your cupboard with a soft smile gracing his features, “We’ll pour you just a little bit in case you change your mind—”

Maybe one glass wouldn't hurt... No. NO! God, you knew he meant well, but he is really fucking making this hard for you!! “I cant, I’m pregnant!!” you suddenly yelled. He immediately froze, 

“Wha...?”

“I’m pregnant...”

“Oh... Uhhh congratulations,” the most unconvincing thing to have ever come out of his mouth probably, “Who…”

“I don’t know,” the look of utter horror on his face had you instantly backtracking your answer, “Well—let me rephrase that. I do know who it is, but I don’t know his name. It was a umm.. ‘Wam. Bam. Thank you ma’am’ type deal.” Your face began burning as hot blood rushed into your cheeks. You literally couldn't have phrased that worse if you tried. What the hell was wrong with you? 

“You don’t look pregnant...” the horror on his face now registered into your mind as pure shock. 

“I sure as hell would hope not. I am like a month-ish along—I think.”

“You haven’t been to the doctor?”

“Uhh no...” He was right, you didn't even look pregnant. There was no way in hell that you needed to go to the doctor yet. Right?

“W-wait! Y/N the night we met! You were drinking alcohol!”

“So? I am probably only like a few weeks pregnant and I drank like two glasses. I am sure it didn’t do anything…?”

“Are you really sure? How can you know!? You have to go see a doctor!” he looked terrified. It was as if he suddenly was the embodiment every stressed emotion that you had been shoving away from you these past few weeks and the sight scared you. 

“You’re freaking me out, Deku.”

He instantly froze, “S-sorry,” he looked down to his shoes. Maybe you just might let him pour those drinks after all. He looked like he could use both of them right about now...

The next week dragged on for what felt like eons, as Izuku seemed to cautiously dance around the topic of your “preexisting condition.” It was quite obvious that every time the topic came up, a cloud of discomfort would come and sit on his shoulders; however, the man still made it a point to urge the fact that you needed to set up a doctor’s appointment.

Eventually, you caved in and scheduled for one at a local clinic, but they couldn't get you in for a few weeks anyway-- the joint was at maximum capacity, you guessed?  Apparently, there were more pregnant bitches waddling around than you thought.

Still, Deku urged you to read up and research some things prior to your appointment so that you could ask the doctor any questions that might pop up. It seemed like he was almost way too into this-- taking notes in a composition notepad that he dubbed “Baby Notes Vol 1″ and even mentioning coming along with you to your clinic visit.

It made things extremely real. 

Your little safe space with Deku had effectively been conquered and subjugated by the little parasite that took residence in your body. You shook your shoulders with a sigh as you neared Deku’s door for the party. 

*KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK* 

When the door opened you couldn't help the way that your eyebrows flew up in surprise at the sight of a woman opening the door. Uhh... did you go to the wrong house?

The brown haired girl in front of you looked just as surprised as you-- if not even more so. 

Okay, you definitely went to the wrong house.

The sudden sound of Izuku’s voice coming deep from withing the apartment led you to breath easy. You deflated a little bit as you relaxed. You wouldn't have to make a mad dash in a lagged game of ‘ding dong ditch’ after all,  “Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you.”

A series of emotions flashed across her expression at your greeting: shocked, nervous, then... disappointed? “Y/N! I’ve heard... so so much about you!” the smile that stretched across her lips seemed almost painful, “I’m Ochako Uraraka! I... love your hair!” she threw out the last part like a rabbit would throw steak to wolves. 

“Thank’s...” you felt fucking awkward and she still hasn’t let you into the apartment, “I’ll make sure to thank the stylist and the bottle of dye she used.”

“That’s not your real hair color? It looks so healthy though!” she seemed heartbroken as she used a pitying tone and you could gauge that the pity was not for yourself. 

“Nah. My agency pretty much determines what hairstyles I wear...”  You made eye contact with Deku inside of the house as he made his way to the door... Thank god! you were saved from that terribly awkward interaction.

“Agency? Hero agency?”

“Modeling, actually. I’m not that badass,” you smirked before walking into the party.

Her figure deflated as if to say, ‘of fucking course’, “Oh. That’s cool!” You didn’t see much of Uraraka after that 

Meanwhile, Bakugou was just a tick away from being angry enough to kill. His roommates had all three convinced him to go to this get together over Deku’s house and they weren't even going to be there on time! 

He had honestly never been to a party with these losers without at least Shitty Hair being with him, so he wasn’t exactly sure how it would pan out and that really bothered him. He wasn’t exactly social at these events, but at least the three stooges kept him somewhat entertained (he would never admit this aloud).

What could those other losers possible do to entertain him?

“Whyyyyyyy?” he heard crying as he neared Deku’s home. His face scrunched in on itself even further than usual as he approached the whining noise. He scoffed at the inebriated mess in front of him,

“What the hell are you doing, round face?”

Uraraka, who was leaning against the edge of Izuku’s front patio looked up, causing Bakugou to deeply grimace at the germy snot that trailed down her red face, “Deku’s new girlfriend sure is cool. He deserves someone like her, right? She’s perfect!” Bakugou couldn't help the way that his face shriveled into itself in disgust. 

It wasn't too late. He could still turn around and go the fuck home and no one would even know he was here. Well, save for bubble cheeks here, but she probably wouldn't even remember to be honest. 

But as soon as Bakugou turned back around to make his escape Uraraka spoke up again, “She’s a model. They met at the Red Sneakers Event apparently,” Of course this piqued the man’s interest. There were only a few models branding the event and he just so happened to be searching for one of them. Uraraka continued with her drooling of words as Bakugou brushed past her and made his way into the house-- not bothering to knock,

“You know I am the one who gave him that idea in the first place? It’s kinda like. I set him up with his future wife!” she drunkenly cried to no one in particular as Bakugou stormed away.

He passed Iida on his way in, “Go get round face and shut her drunk ass up-- she’s outside,” he didn't bother on stopping to further explain before walking back to the commotion of the party.

 As soon as he entered the packed room, his eyes landed on you. It was like the Red Sneakers Event all over again. You were simply glowing-- hard to miss-- especially with the crowd of his old classmates hovering around you like some damn flies on shit-- especially Deku. He was way too close to you-- the rat bastard. 

“Oooh! You’ve been to Milan! That’s so cool, girl! So you must get to sight-see like a lot!”

The way that your shoulders leaned and swayed as you talked sent flutters into Bakugou’s heart. Fucking gross. He watched you speak very intently-- searching for the magic you had used to bewitch him, “Actually I was working a lot when I was there, so I really only got to see the sets and runways,” you made fleeting eye contact with him from across the room, furrowing your eye brows a bit at his stare before breaking the gaze. 

“Do you get to keep the outfits after the shoots?!”

“Pfft. Hell no! This loser still hasn’t sent me a pair of his red shoes. What happened to helping the quirkless, huh, broccoli boi?” The most primal urge of jealousy that Bakugou had ever felt sprinted through his body as you leaned over to playfully tap that shitty Deku in the arm. The feeling was so intense that he hadn’t even registered what you had said fully. 

“You’re quirkless?” Racoon Eyes inquired, snapping Bakugou out of his feral trance. His face fell a bit as he dutifully awaited your answer. 

“Yeah. It’s whatever,” you shrugged.

“The competition must be so difficult!” Momo spoke up as she placed and apologetic hand to her chest. The gesture made you tense up a bit, but you reminded yourself that she probably didn't mean it in a belittling way as she continued,  “I’ve been to a few magazine shoots myself and it is always girls with flashy quirks who end up in front and center!”

“Well, I compete well, I guess,” you knew that hero hero modeling and your fashion modelling were two completely different worlds. Designers saw you guys mostly as clothing racks and mannequins for their clothes, so usually they wanted their models to be as mundane as possible-- not to distract from their fabric art. So basically the perfect job for someone like you, “it’s no big deal. I get by like everybody else.”

“You just live your life like normal!”

“Awhhhh. Y/N. You’re an inspiration!”

Suddenly you felt extremely tired. You couldn't find the energy within  yourself to filter out and soften your next response, “Glad I could inspire you just by breathing I guess.” you gave the girls a slight smile as you shrugged, but the undertone of your comment had not gone unnoticed-- especially by Bakugou who found himself stifling a proud smirk.

You once again made eye contact with him in this moment-- this time not daring to backtrack your gaze until he did-- a warning sign to back he hell off with that staring shit.

As the night progressed you found yourself becoming more and more tired. The debilitating sense of sudden fatigue actually felt like it had taken over even your bones at this point as the aching structures weighed heavily inside of you skin. You decided after about an hour that you were gonna make an early trip back home.

“What, why!?” Deku scanned your face nervously-- he thought you had been having fun!

“Just really damn tired suddenly.”

“Oh...” he trailed off, but suddenly realized the hidden context of your words. Baby Notes vol 1 page 4 section 3: ‘prenatal fatigue’, “Ohhhhh okay! Right! Well Let me call you a taxi or something.”

“Nahh, I’ll walk,” you waved him off as you made your journey toward small crowds of his friends-- waving them goodbye. Deku followed you in your path around his house, 

“W-what? You can’t be serious! You shouldn’t do that!”

You turned around and threw your hand on his shoulder, causing him to instantly freeze up, “I’ll be fine,” you smirked throwing your hand up to his cheek to gently pat his face. Of course, he was left a shivering, blushing mess. It was a low blow, but, hey, it gave you a good opportunity to escape. 

You felt a wave of relief as soon as you made it a few steps outside of the apartment. You released a heavy sigh as you continued walking away. 

Finally. You internally planned the rest of the night in your head: orange juice, Netflix and sleeeep. You could finally just let yourself relax and--

“HEY!” you jumped out of your skin a little at the sudden loud shout. You whipped around to see that blond spikey-haired dude from Deku’s house attempting to close in on you. 

You rolled your eyes as he neared. Hardly throwing him a glance as he approached you to walk a little behind you, “God. You’re the weirdo that was staring at me all night,” you groaned, hoping he would catch your drift. 

“We need to talk!” 

One of you eyebrows instantly quirked up as your lips curled into a look of disgust. You whipped back around towards him, “Look, I am actually tired as hell, so excuse me for my bluntness, but FUCK OFF!” You only caught a glimpse of his flabbergasted expression before you spun back around to storm down the stairs entering the subway. 

“You really don’t know me?” he sounded pissed. 

That’s when it hit you. 

“Oh! it’s you!” you snapped your fingers at the sudden realization, 

“You’re Kacchan!” the look of disgust that hardened on his face intensified by ten fold when he heard you use that nickname. You continued regardless as you neared the train platform, “The asshole bully who likes to pick on quirkless kids. Yeah, well, I don’t give a damn how great you think you are, buddy. You can really fuck off now!” you spun once more to ditch him; however this time around your ankle twisted from underneath you, causing your body to fall down toward the ledge of the platform where underneath the tracks resided.

Bakugou cried out something like ‘you idiot!’ before grabbing you by the waist and yanking you into him before you could completely fall down the ledge. Everything happened so quickly that you hadn't even realized that you were holding your breath until you gasped heavily into his chest.

With a shocked expression you trailed up his neck to his face until you were met with his vermilion eyes, “Shit…” suddenly a wave of familiarity crashed into you. you breathed deeply, “I-It’s you...”

[lu-undy]

Chapter 107 - SBT

Here it is!

"Meow…" 

"Non, mon garçon." Lucien turned his head. "Glovy, those tomatoes are not ready yet, do not bite them." 

[No, my boy.]

"Meow!" 

"Glovy..." Mundy added from a few metres away, in a fatherly tone. He was lying on the grass with a hat on his face and Soot lying on his chest and stomach, napping. 

"Meow…!"

"Glovy, you don't want me to count to three now…" Mundy said and the kitten obeyed on the spot. 

"He listens to you better than he does me." Lucien said, raising his head from the tomato plants. He had spent the afternoon there, helping Caroline to take care of the plants. He had trimmed the trees and was now on his knees, removing the weeds between the tomatoes. 

The kittens were roaming around, discovering fresh grass and a garden. Most of them played with the plants innocently. Only Glovy had wanted to taste them with his little fangs.

"Kitties? Who wants some treats?" 

"Mum, you gave them some after lunch already…!" Mundy removed his hat off of his face and looked up at his mother.

"It's four in the afternoon! Someone's gotta feed the little ones so that they grow strong, eh, Glovy?"

"Meow! Meow! Meow!" The kittens came jumping around Caroline's feet. She sat on a chair and bent down to deal the treats to the eager little balls of fluff.

Mundy was laying on the grass, with Soot on his chest, while Perle was inside, with Mike.

"Easy on the food, Glovy." 

Glovy stopped chewing sharp before resuming. He swallowed his treat and his ears pulled back. Caroline winked at the kitten and offered him an additional treat, as she put a finger on her lips. 

"Mum… Don't try and feed him behind my back."

"How did you know?" 

"Cause you used to do the same with me." Mundy said as he opened his eyes and stood up. "Right, I need to go now, Mum. I'll say bye to Dad on my way."

"You need to go?" Lucien raised surprised eyebrows and turned to his lover who was approaching him. 

"Yeah, but don't worry, we'll spend the evenin' together. There's somethin' I need to do first. And by the way…" Mundy crouched to whisper in Lucien's ear. "Dress up nice and come at 7pm at the crossroad between the High Street and King James Avenue."

Lucien's cheeks went pink. 

"Fine, I will."

"Be there on time and put on the nicest clothes you have. We'll spend the evenin' just you and me." Mundy turned to his mother who was playing with the kittens. "Mum, you'll watch over the cats tonight, right?"

"Yeah, we will, don't worry…!" Caroline answered. 

"Right, I'd better go then, I got stuff to prepare." Mundy winked at Lucien and the Frenchman felt like the most special man on Earth. "See you later, Lu'."

"See you, Mundy." 

Mundy went away and Lucien stayed with Caroline in her garden. The kittens seemed to love playing there. Soot went to Lucien and sat next to him while the Frenchman went on cleaning the plants area. 

And soon, the time came for Lucien to go and get ready himself.

"Don't worry, Lucien, I'll keep an eye on them." Caroline came to the living-room.

"Yeah, you go and find Micky. We'll take care of the kids." Mike answered from the sofa, brushing Perle, lying like a queen on his stomach and lap. 

Lucien went to Mike and sat down next to him for a moment.

"Are you sure about this? I would understand if you changed your mind. Looking after all these little ones is quite tiring."

"What are you on about? They're lovely!" Caroline said. "Besides, playin' in the garden got them all tired and they're sleeping now."

"Yeah, and look at this one. She likes watchin' the television with the old man, eh?" Mike looked at Perle on his lap.

"I think what she likes the most is the attention, the scratches and you feeding her treats…" 

"Maybe, but she likes me too! Eh, baby, tell yer dad you like your old Mike, yeah?"

"Meow!" Perle answered. 

"See? She does!"

Lucien got closer to the sofa. 

"Thank you very much, Mike, I really appreciate your efforts." 

Mike moved his eyes from the television screen to Lucien's light blue eyes. 

"Well, thank you too. Carrie was right."

"I heard that!" A feminine voice said from the kitchen and Mike rolled his eyes with a smile. 

"I mean," Mike went on. "Micky really found what he was lookin' for with you."

"I try my best." 

"Ya don't need to, son. Now you guys go and have yer fun. And whatever you do, you watch out for each other, yeah? And you be good to my Micky, eh?"

"I dream of nothing else." 

"Did he tell ya what's the plan?" 

"Mike…! It's their evening, not yours, get yer nose out of their business right now!" Caroline answered from the kitchen, surrounded by the mewling kittens. 

"Non, I do not know." Lucien answered, whispering.

"Lucien!" She added and both Mike and Lucien chuckled.

"Right, you go before she gets out the kitchen and tells us off, yeah?"

"I shall, thank you again for looking after the babies."

"Meow?" Perle raised her head and her paw to her Papa. Lucien took it and left a kiss on her white fluff.

"I shall see you tomorrow." 

"You have a good evenin', Lu'!" 

"Merci, Caroline, see you tomorrow!"

And Lucien left the house. Mundy had told him to go back home and get ready for an evening just with him. What for? Lucien didn't know, but if Mundy thought he could surprise Lucien, he had another thing coming! 

Lucien had hesitated quite a bit before deciding, but he shall do it. He headed straight for the bedroom when he arrived, he lost no time stripping naked and started the act. He had dressed as a woman before, oui, and had put on the whole elegant show. This time, it shall be different. This time, he shall play another card. 

He had talked to Richard about it and the taylor agreed to help, not without having a second of surprise however. It was a request for a dress, but not any odd one. 

"Cut?"

"Close to the skin, but comfortable and not compromising." 

"Length?"

"Down to half of the thighs."

"Colour?"

"Bright red."

"Dinner or social event?"

"Special occasion, something intimate." 

Richard blushed slightly and his moustache only seemed more white in contrast with his pinkish skin. He stopped taking notes for an instant to clear his throat, before going on.

"Fabric?"

"Enticing to the eye and the touch." 

"Any special requirements?"

"The cleavage." Richard raised an eyebrow. "Generous." Lucien added. 

The Frenchman had his eyes closed on the tailor's armchair, imagining the dress as he described it. The smoke of his cigarette wreathed and curled, rising in the air. 

"Anything to go with it?" 

"Do you happen to make lingerie?" 

Richard adjusted the glasses on his nose. 

"I do."

"Can you do it for men?" 

"I thought you had resigned." Richard answered. 

"What? Non, I am still a teacher, but what does it have to do with-?"

"No..." Richard took his eyes off of his notebook. "I thought you had resigned from your military duties." 

"Of course, I have. I am not a spy anymore…!"

"Then, why the disguise?" Richard asked.

"It is no disguise."

The tailor frowned.

"I will not act a part that isn't myself." Lucien made himself clearer. "If my demand cannot be met, I understand perfectly, Richard. But if I am asking you of all people, it is because I know the quality of your work, and I wouldn't want anyone else for this. I wouldn't be able to ask anyone else."

Richard raised his eyes to Lucien. 

"I shall do it. After your last request, I thought that it was for someone else…"

"Non, of course not." Lucien said. "It is for me." 

"I am relieved." Richard nodded. 

"What were you imagining?" Lucien asked. 

"Well… If you had come back to your military duties, then surely you wouldn't work for France, and as such, I should have to treat you with distrust, at least. And if, like last time, you asked me to use your measurements to fit the dress, then surely, with M…?"

"Oh, you thought my relationship with M ended and I was now seeing a woman?"

Richard nodded. 

"What else could I have understood?"

"And why would I train my walking with high heels here?" Lucien answered. 

"Ah, yes, that I do not know…" 

"I merely want to surprise Mundy." Lucien answered. "You should have seen his face last time when he finally understood that the woman flirting with him was me in fact." Lucien chuckled, thinking about it again. "But again, if you do not want to do it for any reason, I shall by no means force you."

"Non, please." Richard shook his head. "I must admit that your orders always push the limits of my knowledge and my craft. My apologies for judging, and badly so. I should take this as an opportunity to hone my skills and teach my sons with me." Richard nodded to himself. "You know, uhm…" He looked left and right before going on. "One of my sons, Paul, the eldest…"

"What about him?" Lucien asked. 

"He… I think you and M gave him the courage that he needed." Richard blushed and Lucien didn't understand where he was going. "He… He confessed to his mother and I that he… He prefers gentlemen." 

Lucien's eyebrows jumped in surprise. 

"Now, we did have our doubts but he just confirmed it and… We are actually delighted that he worked up the courage to tell us."

The Frenchman smiled. 

"He is fortunate enough to have a father who describes himself as 'delighted' about it." Lucien said. 

"Indeed. I imagine others are not so fortunate."

"Far from it."

Richard shook his head. 

"Anyway, now, to come back to the dress…" 

And Lucien described the vision he had, something that was enticing, revealing and inviting. The only thing the Frenchman wished he could buy was a few years of his life back. Ah, he wished he was closer to Mundy's age… 

In any case, he put on the lingerie, the stockings, the dress, and the assorted red high-heeled stilettos. Lucien then went to the bathroom and put on his make-up. Eyeliner, mascara and this time, a hint of red lipstick. He put on golden earrings, a long and thin golden necklace and looked at himself in the mirror. 

His hair. 

What should he do with it? Ponytail? Bun? Braid? 

Non, non, non. He needed something bold, something to go with the glamourous show he had been planning. 

"Fine then…" He grabbed his hair dryer and a brush, and got to work. 

-- Later -- 

"Gosh, he should be here…" Mundy looked at his watch and his eyebrows jumped. "Ah, yeah…" 

He had worn Lucien's watch for the night, the one he had broken on the day he had died. It was permanently 4.26pm. 

He smiled. 

Looking at that broken watch didn't pinch his heart anymore, and especially not today. It made him smile. That broken watch was an I love you in itself, it was something that Lucien had left before giving away one year of his remaining life. And for what? For the mad hope that somehow he would end up with Mundy. Somehow…

"C'mon…" Mundy wanted to wipe his sweaty hands on his trousers but refrained from doing so. "Mh." He grumbled and waited.

He had told Lucien to be there, at that crossroad, and on time. It wasn't too far from the house. But the Aussie started to be nervous. He thought back about what his mother and father had told him and kept on repeating to himself to breathe. 

Take a deep breath, take a deep breath, take a deep-

"Hey there, 'scuse me," Mundy turned to the feminine voice and the pat on the shoulder. "D'you know where I could find a wild man in a van?" 

Mundy's eyebrows jumped. In the night street, the Aussie couldn't see the woman clearly, but gosh, the curves, the shapes…! Mundy's eyes snapped back to her eyes, not without lingering at the wide cleavage and the golden necklace shimmering around her neck, diving down her shy chest. 

"Uh, what?" 

"Mundy, it is me." Lucien chuckled. "How many times can I fool you?" 

"What?! How the fuck?! Hold on…" Mundy put his hands on Lucien's shoulders and pulled him under a lamp post.

"Holy dooley…! What have you… Is it really you? I mean…"

"And look at you, mon amour. What is this suit? I have never seen it." 

Mundy looked down at himself. 

"Well, you aren't the only one who can go to Richard and ask for somethin' special, eh? Like it?" 

Lucien took a keen look. The cut was well adjusted, close to Mundy's body. It made him look even taller. The Frenchman let his fingers touch the fabric. 

"Soft, yet one can feel little asperities. Mixed fabrics, satin and cotton of India." 

"Gosh, you sound like Richard." Mundy chuckled. "Like the colour?" 

"Dark, Burgundy red. One of my favourites." Lucien said. 

"Guessed so." 

"How?" 

"The first time I met you, as a spook, you were dressed in dark red, the suit, the tie, the balala-thingy. Thought I might wear it this time, give it a try. Besides, Richard went about givin' me a lecture about how it would suit me cause of my skin tone or somethin'..."

"Ooh, paid attention we have, huh?" Lucien chuckled.

"Hard to ignore the tailor when he gets emotional, eh?" Mundy grinned. "But I uh… I mean I look at you and uh… Is that really you?"

"Look into my eyes." Lucien raised his eyes to Mundy and the Aussie raised a shy hand to his cheek, cupping it gently, while the other rested on Lucien's hip.

"Gosh, you're… You're even more than last time." 

"More what?" Lucien asked with a smile that made Mundy's heart flutter.

Mundy was devouring him with his eyes. The red, short dress, the black tights, the red high-heels and gosh the face… The face! The eyeliner, the dark yet subtle shadow on his eyelids. Mascara? Was that mascara? His eyelashes didn't need it, they naturally were long and thin, and gently flapped like the wings of a butterfly. 

"Is that… lipstick…?" Mundy squinted on Lucien's lips.

Lucien gently nodded. 

"You didn't have that last time." 

Lucien shook his head and lowered it. 

"Hey…" Mundy put an index finger under Lucien's chin and raised it. "You're beautiful, baby doll." He smiled and Lucien blushed. "And what's with the hair…? Curly and fluffed up? That's… bold. Reminds me of a certain spook I met back in the days, eh." 

"Is it too much?" Lucien asked, his eyes still evading Mundy's as the pink on his cheek deepened. 

"Nah. It's… It's amazin'." 

Lucien finally raised shy eyes to his lover. 

"Really?" He whispered. 

"Yeah, really. And look at you… Dress, purse and everythin'... A gorgeous doll you are." 

"Yours, please?" 

"Course, I'd never imagine that-"

"Hey!" A voice cut them. A group of men were passing by. "The doll busy for tonight?" 

"Yeah, come with us, baby…!" Another man from the group added. 

They were clearly past tipsy. Mundy frowned. 

"We're busy." He simply growled. 

"C'mon mate!" 

"Sharin' is carin'!"

"C'mere baby…!"

"Hands off!" Mundy clenched his jaw and pulled Lucien to himself. "Lay a finger on her and I'll make a necklace of yer teeth." 

"Wohow," One of the men went. "Possessive bloke in a suit. We're five, you're alone, what are you gonna do?" 

"Pop yer teeth," Mundy pointed at the first one. "Re-arrange yer ugly mug," He pointed at the second. "Break your leg." His finger moved again. "And you two, you'll get so scared, you'll shit yourselves and run away." 

The group of men laughed. 

"Well, then, come and get my teeth if ye like, mister suit and tie!" 

Mundy turned to Lucien. The Frenchman's heart was pounding so hard that the dress around the cleavage was shaking. The Aussie bent down to kiss Lucien's brow. "Stay here, baby doll, I'll take just a sec." 

"Mundy, you don't have to-"

"No. I said no one'd touch you and I mean it."

"Then please, go easy on them. The last thing we need is the police after us, especially me, in this attire." Lucien said. 

"Yeah, now stay right here." Mundy kissed Lucien's hand and turned to the group of drunken men. "C'mere then…" Mundy opened his suit jacket. One punch flew and the first man got unconscious before his body hit the ground. "Teeth out? Now, you c'mere…" Another punch flew and the second man hit the floor limply. "And you, yer leg…!" Mundy raised his heeled boot and that's when Lucien realised that those were brand new. They weren't brown, they were black, to better go with the suit. Mundy stomped his heel down the other man's tibia as he had wrapped an arm around his neck. Even Lucien heard the bone break and the Frenchman's thighs tensed. 

Non, non, non, non…! The Frenchman bit his lip and stepped on his own toe to prevent his body from showing the effect that Mundy's confidence had on him. 

"Now, both of you, d'you know who we are?" Mundy addressed the two remaining drunkards. Their knees had given up, they were on the floor, eyes wide and breath sort. As the Aussie didn't receive any response, he bent down and took one of them by his collar. "I said: d'you know who we are?" He spoke slowly, his nostrils flared and his eyes flashing fiercely. 

"N-no, w-we don't know! We swear! Just thought the sheila was for the takin'! We swear!" 

"Then take your mate to a hospital and if you mention my sheila'n me, believe me, I'll find you." Mundy said menacingly and didn't see that under the lamp post, Lucien bit his lip. The Aussie let go of the drunk man and dusted himself off before closing his jacket again and coming back to Lucien. He offered his hand and the Frenchman gladly held it as they started walking in the street. "Sorry about that, baby." 

"I… It… Ah…"

"You alright?" Mundy asked with a chuckle. 

"Oui… I think? This is quite an eventful way to start the evening." 

"And it's only the start, luv'. Now, can you climb on the bike with yer dress?" 

"Oui." 

"Then c'mere and hang on tight." 

Mundy straddled the motorcycle that he had parked a bit further away and invited Lucien to hop on behind him. He started the engine and drove through the streets. Lucien wondered what the Aussie had in mind for them but soon understood when the streets became familiar. 

Eventually, Mundy parked and turned to Lucien, whose dress shimmered under the golden lights of the establishment that both men knew very well. 

The Queen Victoria. 

"Remember this place?" Mundy asked, helping Lucien out of the motorcycle.

"Of course, I do." Lucien answered but he frowned. "Did you book a table there? I cannot go inside, for them, I am dead."

"Relax, I know. I didn't book anythin'. Just wanted to bring you here." 

Both stood side by side, about a dozen or so metres away from the entrance and Mundy laced an arm around Lucien's waist. 

"Brought you here cause this is where I saw you for the first time." Mundy said and Lucien smiled. 

"Are you feeling nostalgic?" 

"Not really. Just been thinkin' about it all, from the start till today. We've done some mad stuff, eh?"

"Quite the adventure indeed." Lucien agreed and leaned on Mundy's side. From where they were they could hardly hear anything but the muffled sound of the music playing in the restaurant. 

"When I saw you in there, you woke things up in me." Mundy said. "At first, I didn't really understand. But the more I came to your shows and listened to you, the more I understood that I just wanted to hold someone, I wanted to have someone to say the words you were singin' to. And then I realised that I wanted someone to sing those words to me… As pathetic as it sounds, I was on my seat there, and I just imagined you were singin' for me."

Lucien leaned his head on Mundy's shoulder. 

"I just… I didn't even want intimate stuff, I just wanted to touch someone, hold their hands, be touched by their hands… Feel like I exist and not just drag my feet from one day to the next." Mundy sighed. "You… You made me fall in love with an idea." 

Lucien raised his head to Mundy and smiled sweetly. 

"With your voice, I just… I felt like I was head over heels for someone who doesn't know I exist, and I didn't even know if they did too. But I felt it in my heart, the butterflies in my stomach, everythin'. I was in love, but with no one."

Lucien grabbed Mundy's arm between both of his and squeezed him gently. 

"I-I don't know if that makes sense." 

"Oui, it does." Lucien said. "You had the same effect on me. I think what we felt was longing. We both had love to give but no one to give it to, no one was worthy enough of the pain and the sacrifices that one does when one is in love. Because when you are in love, then you do not count. Such sacrifices of your time, your space, your energy, your money, all those do not appear as sacrifices, they are investments. You are investing in something that you are building, as opposed to yielding to something that costs you more than what you gain from it." 

"Yeah… Yeah, that's the idea." Mundy nodded. 

Silence fell between them, only interrupted by the occasional passer-bys and cars. Lit by the yellow neon name of the place where they met, Lucien and Mundy shimmered in red, splitting the dark blue night. 

"Why did you bring me here?" Lucien asked. 

"Because that's where it all started. That's where you gave a point to my life that wasn't just kill a bloke to get revenge for my parents. That…" Mundy pointed at the restaurant. "That's the place you revived me, after ten years of draggin' my feet in the desert, walkin' around under the scorchin' sun like a dried lizard. So I wanted to come back and tell you all this before…"

"Before what?" Lucien looked up at his lover. 

Mundy looked away. 

"We need to go." He simply answered and walked towards the motorcycle. Lucien followed him, still hand in hand with him and at a loss as to what Mundy had in mind.

[katebacks]

Under The Mat  (M) - 2

— pairing | Jeon Jungkook /Reader

— word c | 9.917

— genre | Ceo!Jungkook, angst. Eventualy Smut.

— summary |  After what happened in Jungkook's Offcie, you no longer know what to feel, and after a lie, you end up on a business trip with him. One week in Seattle. What can go wrong?

— warnings/tags | Adult content,  eventual smut, low slang words, cheating, mentions of alcohol use and harassment. No smut in this chapter, but don’t worry, it will come soon. 

| 1 | 2

"Wait, what?" Irina said dropping her fork on the plate after you explained the reason for the urgency of that meeting you had set up with her. You had run to your house and taken a shower, realizing that your panties were not on your body, just imagining that it would be with Jeon. Then you called your friend desperately, saying you needed to talk to her. You had told her what happened hours ago in your former boss office. As expected, she was stunned. "Your boss confess his feelings to you and then give you an oral."

"Irina, if I wanted the whole restaurant to know I would have announced it with a microphone."

“Sorry, (Y/N), but that is a lot of information. So that's why he kicked me at the club. He wanted you. ”

“Look, this is not the point. The point is that I cheated on Hoseok. And I feel terrible about it and I don't know what to do about it. He will hate me if I tell him, but if I don't tell him now and he finds out for someone else later, it will be even worse. ”

“And how was he going to find out? Only you, me, Jungkook and his office desk know about this. ” You rolled your eyes and stared at her with a killer look, making her raise her hands in surrender. “What I'm saying is, you don't have to tell. It was a mistake, and if you don't want it, it won't happen again. Everyone makes mistakes after all. And if you don't tell him, I won't do that either. And I'm sure Jungkook and his office desk aren't either. ”

"Stop talking about Jungkook's office desk, for God's sake." You said putting your hands on your head, feeling desperate.

"Or you can just break up with Hoseok."

“I cannot break up with Hoseok. I like him, we've been together for years. I can't just tell him that I want to break up without giving any reason or explanation. ”

“(Y/N), people change. Feelings change too. And I know you too well, if you didn't want Jungkook to touch you the way he did, you would have kicked him between the legs and sent him to hell. So it's obvious you want him too, but you're telling yourself that you don't because you can't stand the fact that you cheated on Hoseok. ”

"Since when do you sound like a psychologist?"

“I have a lot of free time, I like to study before I drink tequila, that makes me a smart alcoholic.” She said smiling, taking a sip of her champagne. "But if you are so sure you shouldn't have done what you did, you should talk to Jungkook about it and explain that what happened will not happen again." And so she went back to lunch. She was right, it wouldn't happen again, it was just a slip, you loved Hoseok and you would never want to hurt him like that. You knew that not telling him would be another betrayal, but you couldn't stand the thought of what would happen if he knew.

You took out your cell phone and saw almost a hundred messages from Jungkook. You didn't want to talk to him at the time, so you just turn of your phone and stuffed it in your bag, trying to get back to eating.

You spent the whole day with Irina, she tried to distract you with random things but nothing took what had happened earlier that day out of your mind. You also hadn't spoken to Hoseok, you were trying to compose yourself and thinking about what you really would do when you saw him in front of you.

When you got home at night, you took an icy shower before getting into your pajamas and curling up under the blankets looking at your cell phone so far still off and deciding whether to turn it on and face all the messages you had received from Jungkook and Hoseok. Taking a deep breath and deciding that at one time or another you would have to face it, you turned on the phone and waited for it to restart, being bombarded by notifications on the home screen.

Asshole: Are you okay?

Asshole: I understand why you ran like that but we need to talk.

Asshole: Please, honey, answer me. We need to talk.

Asshole: I know you wanted this as much as I did.

Asshole: I can't stop thinking about your pussy.

Asshole: You taste so good. I need more, I'm hooked.

Hobi: Hey, your phone is off. When you see this message call me, okay? Need to tell you something new.

Asshole: (Y/N), come on, don't ignore me like that, you know we need to talk about this.

Asshole: Okay, I'll wait until you see that you want me as much as I want you.

And the latest:

Asshole: You left your panties with me, if you don't want it back okay, but I think your boyfriend won't understand very well when he receive it in the mail tomorrow morning with my name on the package.

"Shit" You swore jumping on the bed, sitting down and automatically dialing Jeon's number on your phone.

"Did you miss me?" His voice, full of pretension, as expected, said from the other side.

"Don't you dare do what you wanted to do, Jeon Jungkook." You threatened, making your anger and frustration very evident in the tone of your voice.

"I would never do anything like that, dear, who do you think I am?" He asked in a false tone of disappointment and offense that made you roll your eyes.

"You are the devil, that's what I think."

He let out a sarcastic laugh on the other end.

"Are you ready to talk to me?"

"I'm listening."

“No, babe, that's not how it works and you know it. I'm coming over. I'll be there in fifteen minutes. You can wear whatever you want, but if you want to receive me naked, I will be even more happy. ”

And so he hung up making you let out a frustrated growl and stick your face in the pillow screaming. So then you sat down and understood what was about to happen. Jungkook would be there in 15 minutes and you were looking like the corpse bride in live action. You jumped up from bed and ran to your dressing table, looking for your makeup to at least hide the imperfections in your face. He had never seen you without makeup and this would not be the first time. You looked at yourself in the mirror, to your pajamas, wondering if you would change to something less wide, but then you heard your doorbell ring.

What?

As soon as you opened the door, you watched it. As always beautiful inside that suit. Hands in pocket, hair a little messy. He was looking at you with a victorious look on his eyes and you really wanted to punch him in the face so that he would lose that pretentious look.

“How did you get in here? The porter wasn’t at the reception? "

"He was, but I gave him three thousand dollars to let me in because I wanted to take you by surprise."

"Well, I hope you know that he will be fired for that." You said giving space for him to come in while he shrugged.

"That's not my problem." He said calmly, taking a walk around himself, before stopping and looking at you. “You don't have to be cute after what happened this morning. We both know that this pajama doesn't match anything with the naughtiness that exists inside you. ”

"What do you want, Jeon?"

"You know exactly what I want." He said in a serious tone, walking towards you and making you eyes widen and back up until your back was on the wall again. Cornered by him again. "And I'm sure you know what you want, too."

"Jungkook, what happened was a mistake." You said trying to meet those dark eyes that hours ago were looking at you while his tongue was between your legs. "I love Hoseok."

"Bullshit." He grunted, bringing his mouth close to yours, placing a hand on your neck, placing his icy fingers on your throat. That made your heart, which was already racing, beat a thousand times faster. “You know you want me, your body says that, your veins say that. So why do you try so desperately not to give in to me knowing this is what you want? Wasn't it good for you? How many times do I need to make you come for you to realize that? ”

"Jungkook please." You asked closing your eyes tightly. You didn't want to do anything else to hurt Hoseok, not after he was such a good person for you all those years. Jungkook sighed and faced your almost painful expression. He knew that what he did earlier had been wrong, he never wanted to do anything to see you suffer, but his desire for you was bigger than any other feeling or judgment.

He stepped away from you, taking a step back and putting his hands in his pocket. You opened your eyes, feeling a relief in your chest that he heard you but at the same time a discomfort between your legs because he hasn't touched you yet. You were having a war inside you at that time, your brain, your heart and your pussy were the three involved in that mess. Before you or he said anything, the doorbell rang again, making you frown and look at the door. Who could it be?

“Can I use your bathroom? I promise to leave soon after. ” He asked and you nodded watching him turn his back and enter the corridor where the bedrooms and bathroom were. You rubbed your face, still feeling your cheeks burning and turned to the door. As soon as you opened it, you were startled to see Hoseok there. Oh damn.

"Hoseok." You managed to speak without stuttering. He smiled at you and leaned in to give you a calm kiss. "What are you doing here?" You asked smiling nervously, trying not to be rude and trying not to look terrified at the same time.

"You didn't answer my calls or messages, so I came to see if everything was okay." He said entering the house. You closed the door and looked stunned towards the entrance to the corridor and mentally asked Jungkook not to leave there anytime soon. It would be very difficult to explain to your boyfriend what your former boss was doing in your apartment while you were in your pajamas.

"I'm fine, just a little tired." You said it and he frowned, seeming to realize there was something wrong there.

“Are you sure everything is okay? You look pale. ”

"Yes, I have a little bit of colic too, you know, I'm entering my period." You lied, feeling a lump in your throat at the same moment he smiled warmly at you. He grabbed your face and gave you a kiss on the forehead before resting his palm on the bottom of your belly.

“If you want, I can go to the supermarket to buy you some chocolates, yogurt and ice cream. We can watch a movie together too, what do you think? ” And before you could answer, you held your breath as you looked over Hoseok's shoulder and saw Jungkook walking into the living room, raising an eyebrow when he saw your boyfriend there.

Jung noticed your silence and your expression then turned back, seeing the man he hated most in his life, standing there, in the middle of your living room. Hoseok looked alternately between you two until he stepped away from you.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He screamed and then looked at you, making you see the hate that would easily run from his eyes if that feeling was liquid. “What is this shit doing here? Where did he come from? From your room? ”

"I was using the bathroom, you ignorant." Jungkook responded calmly, making Hoseok even more possessed.

“That doesn't explain why the fuck you were using the bathroom at my girlfriend's house. Didn't you have time to get to your mansion? Don't you have enough bathrooms there? ”

"Are you trying to insult me by saying that I have a mansion? Why should I be offended by this? I like being a rich playboy." Jeon replied pretentiously, shoving his hands in his pockets again, moving his eyebrow teasingly. “And what I do here does not concern you. I don’t need to give explanations, I am not your girlfriend.”

Hoseok turned to you, obviously waiting for you to answer.

"He ... He came to say that ..." You had no idea what to say, just wanted to jump on Jungkook's neck and strangle him.

"Look, I would love to stay and watch the couple fight, but I need to go." Jungkook said sarcastically, walking towards the door. “Miss Backs, don't forget our appointment tomorrow. You need to be at 11 pm at the airport. Don't forget to take the report about the company I asked for. This may be your chance to show your potential as my secretary. Do not waste this second chance that I am giving you. Have a good night." And he smiled opening the door and leaving, leaving you totally amazed. He was even good at lying.

"You returned to work for this junk?" Hoseok's voice made you come out of the trance and look at him.

“Yeah. He called me saying that he needed to talk to me, said that tomorrow he has an important meeting and that he still hasn't got a secretary to replace me, so he asked me to accompany him. But it's just this time. Even though he is an egocentric asshole, he paid my salary for two years, I couldn't let him down. ” You lied.

"And why didn't you say that before?"

"Well ... You freaked out and started screaming, it made me nervous." You shrugged and lowered your head. Soon he was hugging you and kissing the top of your head, apologizing that he had screamed, saying he was jealous and promising not to do that anymore.

(...)

The next morning, you woke up with your cell phone ringing. You answered the call without even knowing who it was.

"Yeah?"

"Wow, how sexy is your sleepy voice."

You opened your eyes at once when you recognized that voice. Looking to the side, you saw that Hoseok was at your side, sleeping peacefully.

"Jeon, what do you want?" You asked getting out of bed, leaving the room and closing the door behind you.

"What do you mean by that? Did you forget our appointment? ” You stopped walking, trying to remember what he was talking about.

“Wait, are you talking about the trip? Were you serious about this? ”

"When did you see me joking about something?"

Shit.

"Jungkook, I can not go, I did not make any report. And Hoseok ... ”

“Forget the report and your stupid boyfriend. Just pack your bags with enough clothes for a week. My driver will pick you up in an hour. ”

And so he hung up. You stood for 10 minutes standing in the hall, looking static at your phone, wishing to break it in Jungkook's head. But it was too late to regret it, you went back to your room and walked towards the closet picking up your biggest suitcase and putting it on the floor, not having the patience to fold your clothes and throw them inside.

"Babe, you okay?" Hoseok's voice caught your attention. You looked at the bed and he was lying on his side, his face swollen with sleep and his eyes half closed.

"Yes. I'm just late. Jeon's driver will stop by and pick me up in 50 minutes and I haven't even finished my bag. ” You said it and he looked down at you to your suitcase, totally messed up. He laughed and stood up walking over to you and giving you a tight hug.

"You're not at all excited to go, are you?" You denied it.

"I just thought that after leaving that company, my life would be easier, but it seems that it got worse." You returned the hug, placing your face on his chest.

“I understand, dear. But after this trip, you won't have to look at that idiot's face anymore. ” And so he gave you a peck. "Go get ready, I'll finish your suitcase."

"Thank you Hoseok, you are the best." You smiled at him.

"I know honey."

(…)

As soon as you checked in your suitcase, Jungkook's driver took you to the airport's VIP Lobby, where Jeon was sitting at a table, reading news on his tablet. When you sat in front of him, he took his eyes off the screen and looked at you, smiling.

"Good Morning."

"Spare me, Jungkook." You said with disdain seeing him lean back in his chair still with that irritating smile on his face. "Where are we going and what should I do?"

“We are going to Seattle. And you just need to accompany me to meetings and write down everything you think is of my interest.”

“And what is in your interest? Harass your ex secretaries? Blackmail them to do what you want?”

"First, I didn't harass you, you wanted me to eat you out." He said loud and clear, making you look around and say thank you for having just you two in that place. “Second, I didn't blackmail you. I only used the lie that I told your boyfriend so he wouldn't know that earlier yesterday I had my tongue in your pussy and that was the reason I was at you house late at night. ”

"You suck."

"Yeah, but you still like me."

You leaned back in your chair, looking out of the Lobby window that overlooked the entire airport. Sometimes you would be grateful that you didn't have to stay in those lines when you were traveling on business with Jungkook, that was one of the good points about working for him. You then found yourself staring at him all concentrated. No one in their right mind would deny how handsome and sexy he was. You remembered the day before, the chills you felt with his kiss, the heavy lust that invaded your body as soon as he touched you between the legs, the feeling of having the best orgasm of your life and that made you feel both guilty about having those thoughts and excited about wanting to do that again. You let out a frustrated growl and put your hands on your face, drawing Jeon's attention, who didn't need to look at you for more than a few seconds to understand why you were like that. He laughed and went back to reading the news.

(…)

When you got on the plane, you and Jungkook were taken to First Class as usual, sitting in armchairs that stood side by side. Jungkook knew since you started working for him that you were terrified of flying and that is why you always got seats that were very close to each other, because he always was there calming you when you freaked out or panicked because of some turbulence.

This time would be no different.

Jungkook was wearing headphones, watching an interview that was on television when a turbulence started and the first thing he did was to turn to the side and check if your seat belt was buckled. He saw the panic on your face as you squinted and pressed your hands to your knees. He removed the headphones and took one of your hands.

"It's okay, it's just turbulence, we've been through this before." He told you that refused to open your eyes and look at him, but nodded. But that was by far the worst turbulence you had faced, as even the bags started to fall, making Jungkook lean over you and hug you, preventing any of the hand bags being thrown side to side, from hitting and hurt you.

"Shit, I don't want to die." You whimpered and he laughed relaxed.

"You are not going to die, silly."

"How can you possibly know that?" You practically screamed, opening your eyes and looking at him. "This is all your fault, if you had left me alone, I wouldn't be going through this."

“And miss the chance to see you all vulnerable in my arms? Never." He said smiling in a funny way. He was having fun with that. “But seriously, we’ve been there. It was going to be okay. If something happens, I'll let you kick my balls. ”

"You are only saying this because you know that if something happens, we will be dead and I will not be able to kick your balls."

"Why, ghosts move things, why couldn't you kick me in the balls after death?" And that made you laugh out loud. Soon after the turbulence passed and you looked at him laughing as he gave you an 'I was right' look.

"You got away with it this time, Jeon."

When you got off the plane, there was a driver waiting for you who picked up your bags, put them in the car and then took you to the hotel where you were going to stay for the week. You and Jungkook stayed on the same floor, one room in front of the other.

As soon as you entered your room, you went straight to the bathroom to take a shower. It was already dark in Seattle and you were so tired that you just wanted to sleep.

The next day, at 9 in the morning, you met Jungkook in the hallway and so you went down to have coffee before getting ready for a business lunch that he would have in that same hotel with some of his new partners. When you entered the restaurant, Jungkook waved to the table were the six men, without exception, looked you up and down, from your high heels to your hair tied in a ponytail.

"Gentlemen." Jeon greeted them. “This is my secretary, (Y/N) Backs. She will accompany me throughout the trip. ” You smiled and greeted everyone even though you were disgusted by two of them who held your hand for too long and looked at you with perverted looks. Jungkook pulled a chair for you next to him and you sat down so they could talk.

"So (Y/N)." One of the men, you didn't remember his name, spoke as soon as dessert started to be served, making you look at him. He was a lot older than Jungkook, had gray hair, green eyes and reminded you of one of your pedophile teachers you had during high school. “You haven't said a word since you sat down. I'm sure Jungkook didn't choose you just because you had this pretty and inviting face. Why don't you tell us about yourself?”

"I don't have much to say about myself." You responded politely, then thanking the waiter who had placed a plate of chocolate cake with vanilla ice cream in front of you. It was your favorite, and Jungkook knew it, so he always asked for this dessert every time you had a business dinner or lunch with him.

“Ah, but I bet you have a lot to say about you. What do you think about doing in the future? I'm sure you don't want to work for that brat for the rest of your life. ” He laughed being accompanied by the other men at the table, even Jungkook laughed sarcastically thinking how stupid that guy was.

"I don't think to much in the future, I am satisfied with my job at Jeon’s Enterprise." You said sympathetically, even though you started to feel uncomfortable with the way he looked at you. Jungkook laughed pleased with your answer even though he knew that technically you didn't work for him anymore.

“Well, if you ever change your mind, I'm a partner in a modeling company, I'm sure you would be very welcome if you did a test. You’re wearing a lot of clothes, but I think you would look good in something smaller. ”

"Hardin, don't you think you're exaggerating?” A man who was Jeon's age said beside him, that was Taehyung. He had brown hair and the eyes with the same color. He competed with Jungkook in the first place of the most beautiful man in the world according to your list that only contained their names. You had already participated in other meetings in which he was present and he was a nice guy, always in a good mood and had an excellent persuasion ability. No wonder he was one of Jungkook's best friends.

"I'm just complimenting her, it's not like she doesn't get compliments every day while walking around in these clothes." You felt your stomach churn when he said 'these clothes', as if the clothes you were wearing were ordinary or something. And even if  it were, you were free to wear whatever clothes you wanted and he or any other man didn’t had the right to express an opinion or make abusive and sexual comments against you. “Do you have a boyfriend, (Y/N)? If so, I'm sure he must be very upset with you going out like this. ”

"Yes, I have a boyfriend and no, he is not upset about the clothes I wear, as he doesn’t have to give an opinion on what I wear, I am of age and I decide what I wear or not." You hit back as calmly as possible. “And I will not answer any more of your questions. The purpose of this lunch is to talk about Mister Jeon's business, not my personal life. And please, when addressing me, call me Backs, I didn't give you the intimacy to call me by my first name. ”

"Wow, shes got fire." He said laughing, looking at the others sitting at the table who didn't dare open their mouth to say a word. You had your eyes on your dessert, not realizing that Jungkook had a vein popping out of his forehead, as he clenchedhis jaw and looked out of the restaurant window, taking a deep breath with every word that came out of Hardin's mouth, wanting to jump at every second that table and crush his skull. "Tell me, Backs, do you got fire in the bed too?"

You looked at him with disgust as he gave a wry smile in your direction, and you wanted to throw up everything you had eaten in the past three days.

“You are old enough to be her grandfather, Hardin. Control yourself and stop acting like an old pervert. I'm serious." Taehyung said in a warning tone and you looked at him with thanks in the eyes, only then realizing the position that Jungkook was in. He was now staring at Hardin, his elbows propped up on the table, his fingers intertwined, his chin over his fingers, his shoulders taut and his jaw clenched. That was not a good sign.

"Grandfather I don't know, but I can be her Daddy if she wants to …"

You only had time to look at him and in the next second, a glass hit his face and shattered making him scream. You stood up terrified, already turning to Jungkook to ask what he was doing and you saw him jumping over the table, knocking over everything  on top of it and throwing himself at Hardin, both falling on the floor. You covered your mouth with both hands, totally surprised and horrified by what you were seeing. Jungkook punched the older man in the face, blood spraying everywhere. Hardin tried to use his arms to defend himself, but Jeon was stronger than he looked and managed to hold his arms with one hand while using the other to punch him. While the other partners walked away, some of the guests who were having lunch looked at the scene terrified and the waiters entered the confusion to settle the fight.

"Jeon, that's enough." Taehyung grabbed Jungkook's arms and pulled him back while the waiters dragged Hardin, whose face was soaked with blood, away from the table. You finally came out of the trance and ran towards Jungkook who was struggling to break free from Taehyung and move forward on the man again.

"Never open your mouth again to make comments like that about (Y/N), do you understand, you bastard?" He screamed totally blind with hate.

"Jungkook, stop." You asked pushing him back, and Taehyung pulling him back too, towards the elevator and pushing him inside, pressing the button for the door to close. When you saw that he was going to get out of the elevator, you ducked in front of him and pushed him hard back, making him hit his back against the wall behind him. "Are you crazy?"

"I wasn't going to let him keep talking about you like that. I have to go back there and pull out his tongue so he learns not to make vulgar comments about my woman." You wouldn't deny that it made your legs shake.

"I am not yours, Jungkook." You said it and he laughed scornfully, taking his eyes off you. "Look, I would be the first to beat him up, believe me, but we were in the middle of a restaurant, with a lot of people around. Are you aware of the scandal that this can become? If the news gets around, saying that the CEO of Jeon’s Enterprise beat up one of his partners in a restaurant, your advertising team will have a lot of work to defend you and mitigate the impact that this can have on your business. ”

"Fuck the business, (Y/N)." He said looking at you angry. “Nobody is going to talk about you like that in front of me. Nobody." You sighed and let your shoulders fall. He had done that to defend you, it was stupid, but still he had done it. Maybe he really liked you. “And even if you insist on saying that you are not mine, knowing deep down that you are, I will defend you.” You sighed and put your hand on his face, certainly taking him by surprise since he widened his eyes slightly. You could have sworn you felt an electric current in your body.

"Thank you."

He just nodded.

When you reached your floor, you went towards his room. He went to the bathroom to wash his hands soiled with Hardin's blood and you sat at the desk taking your cell phone out of your bag and calling the company responsible for taking care of his image.

“Hi Emma, this is Backs. I need you to keep an eye on social media for the next 72 hours and block any kind of news, information, video or testimony that contains Jeon's name. ” You said as soon as the team leader answered and greeted you. "There was an accident, a disagreement between Jungkook and one of the company's partners at the hotel restaurant where we are staying in Seattle and things got out of hand, like, really out of control.” Jungkook  left the bathroom drying his hands on a white towel. He had rolled up the sleeves of the white dress shirt he was wearing and had also taken off his tie, and he was extremely sexy, as always. “Yes, I’m working for him again, you know, he can’t survive without me.” And so he took his eyes off his hands and looked in your direction, curious as you looked at him with a comical look. “Okay, keep me posted. See you later."

"You finally came to your senses and realized that you belong with me?" He asked when you hung up the phone.

“Don’t flatter yourself. You are a disaster without me. ” And he laughed, shaking his head, after all it was true.

You heard a soft knock on the door. Jungkook looked at it suspiciously, walked over and put his hand on the handle, but only opened it after looking through the peephole and seeing who it was.

"Are you crazy?" Taehyung came in like a hurricane into the room. Jeon rolled his eyes and closed the door. "Are you aware that …"

“Yes, Taehyung. (Y/N) has already scolded me for my behavior and warned me of the consequences I can face, but I don't regret anything. ” And so he sat on the bed. "You heard the disgusting things he was saying."

“Yes, but you could have tried to beat him up somewhere that didn't have a lot of witnesses, like in the hotel parking lot. At least that way it would give me less work. ”

"I called the team that takes care of his image, they will block anything that is related to his name in the next 72 hours. This should give us time to think of a way to make Hardin not report him to the media." You said and Taehyung nodded putting his hands on his hips.

“I talked to the hotel manager and the owner. He's coming here and I'm going to talk to him in person too, but he allowed the security camera images to be erased for a good amount of money, nothing we can't afford. The others are talking to the guests who saw it all, trying to convince them that the fight had been no big deal, even though Hardin left by ambulance, almost with a blind eye.” He said in a scolding tone, but instead of feeling guilty or remorseful, Jungkook laughed pleased with what he had done.

"If you hadn't stopped me, I would have blinded both of his eyes." You rolled your eyes and shook your head in denial while Taehyung looked at him in astonishment.

"Okay, let me put it this way, you threw a glass in the middle of that guy's face and punched him until he almost broke the bones of his skull. I’ll let the lawyers in alert, because you can be charged with attempted murder, Jungkook.  Did you understand the seriousness of this now?” Taehyung ended the sentence almost screaming, visibly upset by his friend's sense of sarcasm out of time. Jeon just shrugged, as if he didn't care.

"I want him out." Jeon said and both you and Taehyung looked at him confused.

“Out of what?”

"I want him out of the elite, off the list of partners, I want him to cut off any connection he has with my company, I want him thousands of miles away from (Y/N)."

Taehyung was speechless for the first time that night, then looked at you who just shook your head. He took a deep breath, ready to freak out, but he managed to control himself, looked at Jungkook and said calmly.

“And how do you want me to do that? You know how he is, he won't give in so easily. Especially knowing that the reason you want him out is (Y/N).” Then he looked at you. "No offense."

"Not taken."

“I don't know, buy his shares, threaten him, I don't care. But I want him out and barred at any social event I'm on the guest list, including Friday's party. ”

"Jungkook, this is stupid." You said it and he looked angry at you.

"What, are you defending him now?"

"I'm not defending him, Jungkook. But look at the situation, I know that your partners who are here today know the reason for the fight, Hardin was verbally harassing your secretary, but the rest of the world doesn't know. And if he speaks only his side and shows the patched face to the reporters accusing you, he may end up gaining a lot of visibility with this.”

"Listen to someone at least once in your life, Jeon. She is right." Taehyung said. “We can get him out of society but we need a more elaborate plan, show evidence for other people to understand why you want him to leave.”

"And how nice of you to have me, because I have a plan that can work." You said again making the two of them look at you who smiled in a treacherous way. “Get a copy of the security images before deleting them. Talk to him about selling his shares, but let him go to the party in Friday. ”

“This is my time to ask. Are you crazy? ” Jungkook asked. "I will kill him."

"No, you won't. You will trust me. We are going to wind the rope and he will hang himself."

"Okay, I'll check the situation out. I'll send you the news." Taehyung agreed. If there was one thing he had discovered since you started working with Jeon, it was that you were very smart and always managed everything.

“I'm going to my room. See you at dinner? ” You asked getting up and taking your bag, walking to the door. Jungkook just nodded and didn't say a word. You had to put your plan into action. You know that men like Hardin acted mechanically, always had the same attitudes and followed almost like a stupid script. It wouldn't be any different this time.

(…)

After dinner, you and Jungkook ended up going to the roof of the hotel where  was a leisure area with a swimming pool, whirlpool, a bar for the guests to serve themselves and a beautiful landscape on the four sides of the great beautiful Seattle at night. Jungkook, as always, had his eyes on the screen of his cell phone while you sat on the edge of the pool with a Martini in hand, feeling the cool night breeze.

"Having fun?" He asked seeing you silent just sipping your drink. You looked over your shoulder and gave him a smile.

“Yes.”

"You know you can have this life forever, don't you?" He asked placing his cell phone on top of the lounge chair next to the one he was sitting on. "I can give you this life if you want."

"I don’t." You said it almost automatically, leaving him speechless. "Look, Jeon, I'm not going to lie. I like expensive things, I like expensive trips, beautiful landscapes, but I like to achieve these things with my effort, I don't want to win any of that from anyone. I'm on a business trip, that's part of my job, that’s why I’m here with you."

"Isn't it because I blackmailed you?" He asked sarcastically and you laughed.

"Yeah, that's one of the reasons, too."

"And what are the other reasons?" He asked getting up and walking towards her. "Maybe because you like me and wanted to spend more time alone with me?"

“Jeon…”

"We are alone, dear." He said sitting next to you, placing a hand on your cheek, moving your face and making you look at him. "No one will know. Under the mat, remember?"

“If I give in now, I will no longer be able to hold on. If I give in, it will not be just a mistake, but proof that …”

“Proof that you like me, that you want me too. Please. Just give me a kiss. A kiss and I'll leave you alone for the rest of the trip, I promise.”

"I’ll do that, only if you leave me alone for the rest of my life, Jeon." He chuckled and brought his mouth to your ear, brushing his lips against her lobule.

"I can't take this long." And he kissed your ear, making you roll your eyes with the sensation that arose again between your legs. "I'll leave you alone for the rest of the trip, so you can make up your mind. And when you do, I'll be waiting for you." And so he lowered the kisses to your neck, making you close your eyes and sigh with the delicious chill that his lips on your skin were causing. "What do you say, huh?"

"No, Jeon." You said moving away from him, dragging yourself away. He sighed and rubbed his face. "I can’t."

"When are you going to realize that you're going to be happier with me than with that asshole?" He asked getting up angrily. "And what's the difference between you having sex with me now? You already cheated on him."

"You can’t be serious." You said getting up and taking your shoe.

"Oh, I'm being very serious." He said sarcastically, making you roll your eyes. "But it’s okay, I'll wait to see how long you can deny the sexual tension that exists between us."

"I'm not denying anything, Jungkook. I just don't want to do this while I'm still with him. I don't want to cheat on him anymore, so I’m not gonna have sex with you while I’m still being his girlfriend.” So you turned around and headed for the elevator, it was time to go to bed.

Jungkook sat down again and his head bubbled with questions and theories that made no sense to him. None of that made sense, why were you still dating an idiot dance teacher instead of being with him, heir and owner of several companies around the country?

Maybe that was why he liked you so much, the fact that you didn't pay attention to him, even when he offered you the world. But even if it was the way he liked it, he wouldn't be content to just try to seduce you and achieve nothing. He wanted you and he would have you, one way or another.

He looked at his cell phone, taking no more than a few seconds to decide what to do. As soon as he took it in hand, Jungkook called Taehyung.

"Jeon!" The sleepy voice said on the other end of the line.

"I need you to get something for me."

(…)

When Friday came, Taehyung had warned you that Hardin was not at all happy with the fact that Jeon wanted him out of society and that he would definitely attend the gala that they were going to that night. He also said that Hardin was freaked out and that you could expect a scandal and in a way, that was exactly what you wanted.

When night came, Jungkook was waiting for you in the hall so you could get the limo that would take you to the party in the biggest mansion in the city. And when you left the room wearing a red dress, he almost fell to his knees in front of you, you were so beautiful.

"So?"

“Sorry but I have no words to say how beautiful you look. Wow." He said almost breathlessly, as if he had run a marathon. You laughed, finding it cute. "We better go or we will never leave this hotel." And so he pointed towards the elevator. As soon as you stepped inside, you could feel the tension between the two of you coming back. His scent making him so inviting, and once again the memories of his face between your legs made your body shiver and you imagined jumping over him kissing him, messing up his hair, leaving him naked, getting kneel for him, letting him fuck you in every possible position. And it made you feel bad and horny at the same time.

You closed your eyes and squeezed them, delighting in that image, and involuntarily bit your lips and squeezed your thigh with one hand. Jungkook glanced at you for a moment before turning his body and facing that scene. Once again he knew very well what was the reason for you being like that.

He reached out, touching your chin, making you open your eyes and face him.

"I know what you're thinking." He whispered in a husky, totally seductive voice that made your legs tremble. "And I know you think it's wrong." He brought your face close to his, making you numb with that smell. “But it won't be wrong forever, babe. We will be able to do all things that your pretty mind imagine sooner than you think. Maybe, later. Maybe tonight. ” And the same moment when the elevator doors opened.

He then took your hand, smiled and gently pulled you out of the elevator, guiding you out of the hotel where the car was waiting.

In the arrival, he was the first to go out and receive a shower of flashes. He waved at the cameras and then turned back, reaching out to help you out of the car. So he linked his arm with yours and went up the stairs that led to the entrance to the Mansion.

Many people wondered who the girl next to Jeon Jungkook was, because he was not used to having escorts, and you knew it could end up giving you a big headache, but as soon as everyone knew you were just the secretary everything would be okay.

You spent a good part of the party greeting Jungkook's acquaintances, and the strange thing was that he always introduced you by your name and not as his secretary, and you always ended up having to correct him. You drank champagne and by an irony of fate, you ended up on the dance floor dancing a slow and romantic song.

It wasn't bad for a rich party. You thought. The songs could be more lively, but you knew that the people who were there, had come to the party to talk business and not to dance and have fun.

"Jeon." Taehyung approached to greet them. "You’re splendid, (Y/N). Boss, I got what you wanted." He said. You looked at them both, confusedly, not understanding what Kim was talking about. What had Jungkook asked him for? It should be something important because the happiness on Jungkook's face was obvious.

"Okay. (Y/N), excuse me for a moment, I ..." He started to speak but was interrupted by his friend who was serious when looking behind you.

"Trouble in sight." Taehyung said and so you looked back, seeing Hardin coming towards you like an angry dog. He had several bandages all over his face and one eye was badly hurt. Jeon's punches should have been quite strong. Jungkook immediately became tense. He pulled on your arm, making you stay behind him and Taehyung, as a human barrier for you.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" He shouted, drawing the attention of several guests around him. “What makes you think you can get me out of the corporation? Huh you little shit? ”

“I am the owner of the company, stays who I want to stay, leaves who I want to leave. And I think you better control your tone of voice, I broke your face once, I can do it again. ” He said calmly but from the way his shoulders were, you knew that he was boiling inside.

It was time to put your plan into practice.

You looked around for the waiter Emma sent, Garry. He was one of the private investigators at your disposal. When you found him, he was not far from where you were. He carried a tray and as soon as his eyes fell on you, he knew what to do. Taking advantage of the distraction of the guests who were looking curiously towards Jungkook and Hardin, Gary placed the tray on a table and took out a cell phone from his pocket, pointing discreetly in the direction of the discussion and recording everything.

"Do you really think I'm going to give up my shares just because you asked?" And so your attention returned to the two.

“No, I think you are going to give up and sell your shares because although you look stupid, you are not. I mean, sometimes you seem to have neurons. ” Jungkook's comment seems to have triggered even more hate on Hardin who took steps towards him, pointing his finger towards his face while Jeon stood still, not intimidated.

“Look, you son of a bitch. Either you get that stupid idea out of your head, or I'm going to end your life. ” He snarled and Jungkook snorted.

"To end my life, you would have to live long years, which we know will not happen since you are old enough to go to a nursing home and die there." He said in a voice flooded with sarcasm. “You're lucky I didn't file a complaint against you at the police station for verbally harassing (Y/N) yesterday. So I will warn you again, control your tone of voice, you are not talking to your mother. ”

"So this is all because of this little bitch?" Hardin asked and you automatically grabbed Jungkook's arm holding him when you saw that he was going to punch the older man. Hardin's eyes fell on you and he laughed scornfully. "That pussy must have gold, baby."

"Shut up." Jeon growled, visibly altered, giving you a great difficulty to hold him in place.

"How professional, Mr. Jeon Jungkook." He shouted, laughing soon after. "Do you want to end a partnership that started years ago when your father was still in the presidency of the corporation, just because I told you some truths about your bitch secretary? How fucking dumb."

"Hardin." Taehyung said loudly, making the old man look at him. “I suggest that you accept the offer I made and get the hell out of here. You don't need such scandal in your curriculum, don't be stupid. "

"Oh, I get it." Hardin said with that malicious smile that made your stomach churn days ago. "You are fucking this slut too, so you want to defend her either." Jungkook made such a strong move with the arm you held, that if you had a little less strength, you would have flown over Hardin with Jeon's punch.

"Leave, Hardin Jones. I won't say that again."

“Oh c’mon. she shouldn't be offended, after all that's why she was dressing like a bitch, right? With that skirt glued to her body. To receive compliments. Just like now, dressed as a stripper. ” And when you saw it, your hand had gone to meet Hardin's face, the noise echoed throughout the room along with the noises that people made with their mouths, totally surprised. He was stunned for a minute, perhaps not imagining that you would have the courage to do something. Meanwhile, Jungkook relaxed his shoulders and enjoyed the scene smiling.

"Shut the fuck up, you asshole. The clothes that me or any woman wears daily for both work and leisure do not say anything about any of us and you men have no fucking right to criticize, defame, mock or harass us. So I think you better accept the offer that Kim Taehyung made to you and sell your shares, or all the companies in this country and the other international ones that have a direct or indirect connection with Jeon's Enterprise will receive a report describing your abusive behavior. I will also send a copy of video with audio from yesterday's lunch, and of this discussion today for each one of them. And I'm sure none of them will want to know your name or have a connection with a shit like you. ”

And finally you took another breath taking a few steps back and knocking your back on Jungkook's chest who put a hand on your waist, looking at Hardin with a smug smile, proud of you.

Gary stopped beside you, catching Hardin's astonished face, which only then realized he was being recorded.

“Your choice, Mister Hardin Jones.” Jeon said politely not hiding his satisfaction.

“Stop by the office tomorrow to sign the papers. Security guards will accompany you to the exit. ” Taehyung said and so two security guards guided him to the exit, but not before he glare towards the three of you.

The people around you started to applaud in amazement at your speech against Hardin and that made you extremely shy. So you walked away from the crowd a bit to talk to Gary, while Jungkook followed Taehyung to the other side of the great hall.

Gary would send the recording directly to Emma so she could keep it together with the files and evidence doc that you both had set against Hardin last night. You were happy that everything had worked out, so you took a glass of champagne and sat at one of the tables, waiting for Jungkook to come back from wherever he went.

Just over half an hour later, you were still waiting for Jeon, but you were talking to some of the guests who seemed to be interested in you after putting that man in his place. When you felt your cell phone vibrating inside your small bag, you excused yourself and went up the stairs to the second floor of the mansion where there wasn’t too much noise and took the cell phone. It was Hoseok who was calling. With everything that was going on, you hadn't even realized that you hadn't called him once.

"Hi love." You said smiling, with a voice full of affection.

"How could you cheat on me with that bastard?" Hoseok's voice with pure hatred said on the other end of the line and your stomach sank just as your heart.

"What are you talking about?" You asked trying not to show the desperation you were feeling at that moment, pressing the bag between your fingers.

“You know exactly what I'm talking about. I never thought you would be able to do something like that to me, (Y/N). What did I do wrong? I wasn’t a good companion for you? I wasn't a good boyfriend, so you decided that you were going to fuck Jungkook? ” He screamed and you could feel like you were punched in the face.

“Hoseok, no. That's not it. You are a wonderful boyfriend. Who told you that? ” You said not being able to control your body and starting to shake violently and walk from side to side, totally unprepared to have that conversation with him.

"Who do you think?" He asked in a poisonous voice and you lost your breath. How this could be happening. Your eyes filled with water and you were about to start sniffling too. "It looks like he decided he doesn't want to share you with me anymore."

And so the call went dead, he had hung up. You didn't know how long you had been standing there, standing with your legs shaking and the tears falling from your eyes. You only realized how serious the situation was when one of the guests looking for the bathroom saw you, and asked if everything was okay.

No. The answer was no.

And there was nothing you could do, not being in Seattle.

You didn't bother to dry your face or touch up the smudged makeup before running down the stairs on top of your heels. You needed to get out of there. And you couldn't meet Jungkook, or you wouldn't be responsible for your actions. How could he have done that to you? How could he have done this to Hoseok? Did he hate him that much? So many questions to mask the one question that really mattered: How could you do this to your boyfriend?

You didn't have time to regret it at the moment. You had to get back to New York as soon as possible and talk to Hoseok, try to fix the shit you did. You went through the great hall like a rocket and when you were approaching the door, a hand grabbed your arm forcing you to stop and look back, already knowing who it was.

"What are you ..." He started to speak, but you were quick to interrupt and pull your arm, getting rid of his hand.

"You had no right to say anything to Hoseok."

He didn't seem surprised by you speech.

"Oh, he was faster than I imagined."

"What the fuck, Jungkook." You said angrily, frowning and clenching your hands.

“I just did what I had to do. Now you don't have to choose between him and me. You can stay with me without remorse." He said with a smile, and that only made your anger increase even more. You just couldn’t believe in his words. “I thought it would help.”

“Oh, you thought… You called my boyfriend and told him that we had sex, Jungkook." You said it a little louder than you should, controlling yourself  to not scream and cause another scandal that night. “How dumb and evil do you have to be to do something like this? Do you realize how much it hurt me? Damn, are you aware of how much it hurt Hoseok?”

“In this stage of the game you should already know that I don’t care about him." He said coldly.

"You don't care about anyone. You only think about yourself, Jungkook. What I did was wrong? yes, and I won't try to make excuses for my mistakes, but it was me who should have told him. I would explain, I would apologize, I would do it in a way that didn't hurt him so much, Jungkook. I would take care of that, but you had to stick your nose where you shouldn't and make things worse as you always do.” And you turned your back again to leave, but he again held you, stepping in front of you and not letting you move on.

"Hey, hey, wait. Where are you going?"

"To the hotel, I'm going to get my things and take the first flight back to New York, throw myself at Hoseok's feet and beg him to forgive me." Leaving him speechless, you dodged his bodies, leaving him paralyzed in the middle of the exit while running down the stairs, dismissing the reporters and crossing the street where you waved for a taxi and then you were far away.

"What happened?" Taehyung, who had watched the scene from a distance, approached Jungkook who was beginning to regret what he had done.

"I think I hurt (Y/N)."

"Do you think so? You called her boyfriend and said that she was cheating on him with you. Of course she would be hurt. Are you stupid?" Taehyung asked totally without patience.

He had to do something, he couldn't let you go like that. He left the party, heading for the limo that was waiting a few meters away. When he got into the car, the driver jumped in surprise, but as soon as he saw Jungkook's expression, he composed himself.

"Go to the hotel as quickly as possible."

all rights reserved © katebacks | 2018/2020 — no reposting and/or modifying of any form on any medium is allowed. no translations allowed.

[theshapeshifter100]

Wolf and Raven: Old Friends Chapter 7

First

Previous

Next

Masterlist

tw dissociation not from character POV

---

Several minutes later a black dot appeared among the rainclouds, and Raven landed nearby. She shifted and started walking over briskly.

“Is everything alright? That was quite the message.”

“My apologies, I could not wait for Haryad,” Erina gestured to Wolf. “Do you have any idea of how to help?”

Raven looked at Wolf and her brow furrowed. “I have not seen this before.”

Erina and Satyarani looked at each other, concerned.

“What happened to cause this?” Raven walked over to Wolf, cautiously waving a hand in front of Wolf’s face, which got little reaction.

“She walked into the tent, and froze like that,” Satyarani shook her head. “Even if you do not know what happened, you might still be the best person to help her.”

“Aye,” Erina agreed. “I will brew some more potion of Dreamless Sleep.”

“I thank you,” Raven said before turning her attention to Wolf. “Can you hear me my friend?”

No response.

“That is fine. I will… I will wait with you,” Raven stood next to Wolf under the tree, staff planted into the ground and occasionally being dripped on. The rain continued to hammer down and the light faded, and still she waited.

A small campfire was crackling away fiercely by the time Wolf moved.

She turned her head slightly, confused.

“…What…?” dread and unease still curdled in her belly, and she sat down heavily. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted her staff in the ground, and stared at it like she couldn’t believe that it was there. She slowly reached her hand out, afraid that it would disappear.

Her hand touched warm wood, and she wrapped her hand around it, gripping it tight and pulling it closer.

“Wolf?”

Wolf startled and looked to her other side, seeing Raven.

“Raven! What, what are you doing here?”

“Erina called for me,” Raven slowly sat down. “She was worried about you. You, you were not here.”

The huff of disbelief faded as Wolf’s face furrowed.

“Aye. I was… I was not quite here. I… I do not know. I am sorry,” she pressed the heel of her palm against her forehead.

“I do not think you need to apologise, although Erina and Satyarani are both confused as to what caused it.”

“I do not think that I know,” Wolf rested her forehead on her free hand. “There was a smell, mud. The smell of mud, and I… I walked into the tent…”

Raven waited for Wolf to gather her thoughts.

“… I know why,” she sighed. “It was often muddy in Nevar’s camp, and I did not leave that tent for months,” Wolf growled under her breath. “First nightmares, then rope, then the potion not working and now this. I thought I was better than this!” she slammed her fist into the ground. “Why?! Why is this happening now?!”

“That I cannot answer.”

“I do not expect you to, my apologies,” Wolf looked out towards the Shadow Wood. “I am so tired Raven. I am tired of my mind turning against me, I am tired of not being the person I used to be. You never met that Wolf. She was confident, and bright. It felt as though nothing could touch her.”

“She is still you, merely changed, as we all do.”

“Aye, I suppose. Still I will ask, did the potion work for you last night?”

“…It did not,” Raven admitted.

“It did not work for me either. I may take a stronger dose tonight.”

“I believe Erina is brewing a fresh batch,” Raven nodded over to the small campfire, where Erina was indeed brewing in a small cauldron. “Perhaps I should ask her for some?”

“It will do no harm,” Wolf agreed. “I apologise for dragging you from your task to tend to me.”

“You need not apologise. I do not feel I did much, I merely waited to see if you would come back.”

“And I am grateful for that, truly,” Wolf’s eyes trailed north to a mountain just beyond the River of the Diving Bird. “My apologies, I do not think I can be around too many people tonight,” the idea of sharing a camp with Erina and Satyarani turned her stomach into knots.

“I heard wolf howls last night. Is there a pack nearby?”

“I know of a pack within the Forest of Dawn Time and another in Triple Thorn Wood. They travel though, they may be in their seasonal grounds.”

“But you know where they are?”

“Aye, but they do not remember me.”

“But they heard you last night?”

“…Aye.”

“Then go if you need. I will tell Erina and Satyarani.”

Wolf looked over at the other two, before looking back at Raven. She nodded briefly before shifting into a wolf, and with one more glance over her shoulder, she disappeared into Shadow Wood.

 ---

Satyarani watched Raven fly back to the west side of the island from underneath the tent. The rain was coming down harder than ever now, and Erina was holding her cloak over the pot she was brewing from.

After a while Erina took the pot off the fire and brought it inside the tent, where gentle steam wafted off it.

“All finished?” Saytarani asked.

“Almost. It needs to sit for three hours,” Erina found a small hourglass in her pack and turned it over. “I cannot give Raven any tonight, but I told her that she is free to collect some before we break camp tomorrow.”

“I see,” Satyarani sat properly in the tent, hanging the damp fur cloak from one of the tent poles. “It was interesting to see Wolf with Raven, even after all of that. It was the first time I have seen her relaxed.”

“Aye…” Erina sat down properly. “It, it does not require much thought to work out why.”

“You have been somewhat antagonistic,” Satyarani pointed out. “However you have calmed down this last day.”

“That is some relief,” Erina rubbed her eyes. “Lack of sleep has been affecting me as well, I do not have energy to start an argument… and… I am reminded of why Wolf and I were friends,” Erina lay her staff across her lap. “And I no longer think she is lying. That display earlier… I do not think that could be faked, not for as long as that.”

“Then you would be wise to tell her that.”

“That I will, that I will,” Erina looked out at the rain. “She should be back before morning.”

“I will trust your judgement on that matter, you know her better than I do.”

“I am not so certain of that. I know the old Wolf would be back before dawn. I cannot be quite so certain nowadays.”

“You are all different people, and people change.”

“Aye,” Erina looked over at Satyarani. “I must ask, you do not know anyone here. Why do you still aid us?”

“I knew Raven, Raven of Old,” Satyarani corrected. “He is a good man, and I am here to aid him. I will admit that this island has taken some getting used to, and the magic here is very different to that of my country. However, it does have its charm.”

“If this is successful then all of Alaunus would be in debt to you twice over.”

“Then I will know who to call should my homeland ever be in danger.”

“That is a deal I would be happy to make.”

“I do not find it likely anytime soon, but as I understand, you are not mortal.”

“I was not mortal since I carved my staff,” Erina lifted it slightly to make the point. “The magic of the Enchanted Oak can change you.”

“I see, so you were once mortal?”

“Aye.”

“Raven of Old I recall being born immortal, for he could not enter the Chamber of the Three-Headed Serpent, what of Wolf?”

“I am uncertain, though it is likely that she is the same. They are both unusual individuals. Their ability to change form is not confined to their Staffs of Power, it is an ability they possessed since birth, as far as we know,” Erina paused to think, “as for this new Raven, I cannot say for certain. I do not know of anyone who has passed on their staff and mantle in such a way before.”

“We will have to wait and see I suppose,” Satyarani drew a knee up and rested an arm on it. “I myself am fashioned from the earth of my homeland. I was never mortal.”

“I see. I do not think I have heard of such a thing before.”

“The world has many magics, many secrets. Your Cyrus seems like the kind of man who would wish to learn all of them.”

“Aye. I fancy if he could spend his life travelling and learning new magics, he would.”

“What is stopping him?”

“…I do not entirely know. I should ask him when we meet up again.”

“As long as he obeys the laws of my land, he will be welcome in my country.”

“Did Raven obey the laws of your land?”

“For the most part. He did strain against them at times, and lose his temper several times. His anger was understandable, but there are laws in my homeland that cannot be broken in order to retrieve the Elixir of Life.”

“I can imagine,” a fond smile crossed Erina’s face. “He was always somewhat impatient. And could have quite the temper when he felt that not enough was being done.”

“Indeed, that sounds about right. The Raven of now does seem much more patient.”

“Aye, that she is. I wonder if she feels as though she has to prove herself? I do hope that is not the case.”

“Raven of Old casts a long shadow. It will be difficult for her to step from it.”

“If she can free Raven of Old and keep Nevar in the desolate realm, she will certainly step from his shadow.”

“Indeed,” Satyarani looked outside the tent, watching the rain fall. Erina followed her gaze, and the two fell into companionable silence.

---

Hoo boy, still not certain about the dissociation, but there you go I guess. Some time away from people and with wolves will be good for her I think

Erina and Satyarani talk of immortality. I had to change this real quick since I rewatched a Secret Temple story compilation yesterday, which had some info I had forgotten. Including the fact that Raven of Old was born immortal. This is important because I have a whole thought dump on immortality in the Raven series and that did answer one of the questions I had. I just had to separate Erina's thoughts from my own.It's mostly that Secret Temple often uses the term 'born mortal', implying that Raven of Old is not, but Nevar is, and I would assume Erina is too, which leads to the idea that possession of a Staff of Power can make you immortal, but then there's the whole of using it for evil taking time off your life and if that's the case how is Nevar still alive, what decides what is an evil deed? Is that why Raven of Old will not attack dishonourably, because it might be deemed evil by, something? And where in bloody hell do the Warriors with Staffs fit into this?! I was talking about this with my beta writer @fairyofsomething​ and honestly, I had thought that having a Staff of Power made you a sorcerer (to use DnD terms), but now it seems more like a warlock thing! Still, I have thoughts, that will be organised, somewhat, and put separately somewhere. Since you know, I'm overthinking a children's game show that might not have had as much thought put in.

[valhallasubstitute]

Yours, And Only Yours Pt.3

-- Sihtric x virgin!reader

After travelling with Uthred for many months the fact that you’re still a virgin is revealed in a drunken confession, from that moment on Sihtric can’t help but thinking of making you his… Well now you are his, and he intends to keep it that way.

part one, part two

A/N: So here we are at the suggestion of anon Gods. Shout out to @thecoochamchronicle for helping me, you were truly a creative blessing :)

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+, oral m receiving, unprotected sex – it’s the ninth century, they have an excuse you don’t. A lil fluffy in parts

Wc: 2550

Sihtric was a good lover. He was gentle, attentive, forthcoming. He was all you could ever want.

Not that you had anything to compare him with.

It had been weeks since Sihtric had taken your virginity and in that time he had taught you things about pleasure that you assumed only the Gods could have knowledge of. His love made you feel beautiful, desired and confident. How could you not when a warrior such as Sihtric shared your bed every night?

Other men had noticed the change in you. The way you swung your hips to entice your lover as you walked past, how freely you flirted, how you mixed foreplay and sword play. It was clear that Sihtric had awakened something in you that other men admired.

Your lover was not blind to their gaze and he didn’t mind, not initially. It both amused and aroused him that other men wanted what they could not have. That you would deny all but him.

But there was only so much a man could take.

It was nearing mid-winter and Uhtred’s expedition was far from over. You were hunting Danes and in the company of Saxons. Sihtric would have preferred it the other way around, Danish men respected his claim, respected your fire. In his mind the Saxons only wanted to hump you and put out the spark in you that he loved.

You were oblivious. 

Which made your friendship with Jorin all that more frustrating to him. The boy, for that was what he was, was a little older than Osferth, twice the size and had triple the confidence.  

Sihtric would watch Jorin proposition you again and again,  his words disguised as friendly banter.

Sihtric would watch Jorin appreciate the show you put on for him and him alone, he made no attempt to hide his desires.

Sihtric would watch Jorin leer to all that would listen about how he intended plough you, as if you were a field to be worked and not a woman to be worshiped.

You liked him, Uhtred needed him, Finan tolerated him.

Sihtric despised him.

                                                        -*-*-*-

You could feel Sihtric’s anger as you sat between his legs, as you gazed up at him you could see his jaw clenching relentlessly. One of his hands rested on your shoulder, the other clutched a mug of ale, though he had scarcely touched it.  It did not worry you, he had been in a foul mood for days, seemingly only happy when you were alone. You took joy in being alone with Sihtric too, even now the idea sent a little thrill through you. You would like to do more than just sit between his thighs.

You stood abruptly and the talk around the fire stopped for only a moment but that was time enough for Sihtric to eye your rear. After nodding to your companions you turned to Sihtric, you bent and brushed your lips against his jaw, aiming to ease the tension that resided there and help build an altogether different kind. The way his fingers ghosted over the back of your thigh told you all you needed to know.

The walk to your tent should have been a short one but the call of your name halted you. The sight of your friend Jorin brought a smile to your lips. He was funny, his outrageous confidence amused you greatly. The boy talked as if he had balls the same size as a giants.

The conversation was brief, nothing more than an extended greeting and then you were on your way again. That was until you heard Sihtric’s name on Jorin’s tongue.

A tent acted as your cover. Curiosity had your feet glued to the ground and your ears straining to hear.

‘Lord Sihtric.’

‘I am no lord, boy.’

‘And I am no boy, your woman can testify to that.’

‘You talk out of your arse.’

‘Mmh that may be true Lord, but regardless you should keep your bitch on a tighter leash. She does entice even the most docile of beasts.’

‘You are a cockless pup and you are unworthy.’

‘Unworthy?’

‘To look at her, if I catch you again I will take your eyes.’

‘Are you threatening me Dane? She will not like that.’

‘Speak another word and I shall have your tongue as well.’

You had heard enough. 

You walked to your tent and paced the length of it at least three times before familiar arms wrapped around you from behind. He smelled of woodsmoke and the earth and leather. Your anger evaporated.

‘I hope I did not keep you waiting for too long.’ You hummed in response, leaning your head back onto his shoulder, pressing your face into his.

‘Long enough. What kept you?’ You knew but you wanted to hear him explain it.

Sihtric did not respond, simply moved around you and brought your lips to his in a kiss with more passion that you had anticipated. His lips were always plush and begging to be bitten, you only stopped for air.

‘You taste of apples.’ His voice was raspy and low, filled with promise. You would hold him to that promise, but not yet.

‘And you taste like you’re not being honest with me.’ Sihtric rolled his eyes and sighed. You ran your hands down his arms, appreciating the feel of them before taking his hands in yours. You knew his hands like you knew your own and you felt the abnormality immediately. The skin was broken and raw, the force of his punch evident. You could only imagine what Jorin’s face looked like.  ‘I hope you didn’t beat him too badly. I don’t want to lose you to guard duty each night as punishment.’

‘You saw?’ You watched his eyes grow wide, just a hint of panic emerging.

‘I heard. He is not the friend I took him for.’

‘He deserved what he got, he should not have spoken about my woman that way.’ His eyes bore into yours as he spoke, such sincere conviction in his voice that you could not help but caress his cheek. Sihtric leaned into your touch. You loved the man that stood before you, his warmth, his quiet humour, the impulsiveness that he could not shake no matter how many times it ended in a fight. You had made the right choice when you had given yourself to him. A choice you would make over and over again.

‘Are you sure he knows that? That I am your woman.’ You spoke the words quietly, a purr practically dripping with lust. You could feel his jaw tighten once more against your palm.

‘When he sees how you cannot walk tomorrow he will know it to be true.’

‘Is that so Sihtric?’

‘I have never lied to you Y/N.’

‘That is true … I think there is a more important lesson that Jorin should learn though.’ Sihtric hummed in response, a small frown creasing his brow. Evidently he thought your words held importance, and as far as you were concerned they did. ‘He should learn that not only do I accept your claim on me as your woman, but that I choose you as my man.’

The look in Sihtric’s eye was one you could bask in forever. It had not been the sex that had changed you, but the love in his gaze that made you feel like Freya herself. It was only right that you should prove to him that your gaze would never wander, your legs never open for another, that your heart would never beat for anyone else, other than the children you wished to give him.

Sihtric’s hands went to your hips, pulling them flush to his while you brought his lips to yours. It was a battle of wills, neither of you willing to yield in your want for the other.

You walked him to the bed of furs, removing clothes as you went. The night air was cool but it wasn’t the breeze that you’re your body covered in goose bumps. Everywhere Sihtric touched felt like you had been set on fire.

You pushed him onto the bed with a final shove. You removed your clothes slowly, relishing him the way Sihtric’s eyes devoured you, inch by inch. The desire in your belly only grew as you crawled on top of him, you could feel his arousal twitch between your thighs as you straddled him.

He made to touch you but you took his large hands and pinned then above his head with your own. The action brought you face to face, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise but he made no attempt to free himself as your breath mingled.

The smirk on his face was unbearable and utterly inviting. Your lips pressed to his, a deep moan escaping him as you nipped at his bottom lip.

You kissed from his mouth to his neck, from his neck to his chest, leaving your mark as you went. Purple circles in the shape of your mouth mixing with sliver scars and battle worn, sun kissed skin.

You continued your assault further and further south until you had him in your mouth. You watched through half lidded eyes as he battled to keep his gaze fixed on you as you worked his length with your tongue.

You knew your lover well, the light hitch in his breathing, the sigh of your name and the way his fists bunched the bed linen told you that he was near his end.

Sihtric’s hand flew to your hair, the grip tight enough to cause a dull ache to spread across your scalp. His grip guided your mouth away from his cock, both of you groaning at the loss of contact. He sat up and pulled you towards him on your knees.

His thighs acted as your support as you guided his cock into you. His chest was flush with your own, hard panels of muscle brushing against your nipples as he thrust up into you. You would never tire of the feeling of him inside you. Stretching you, filling you, hitting all the right spots that made you want to scream.

You had no doubt that the people outside your tent could hear what was going on, it was not a rare occurrence but tonight you had a point to prove.

The chant of Sihtric’s name slowly raised in volume, while your hips ground down on him he had taken to claiming your neck and collarbones, anywhere he could reach with this tongue. A nip to the soft of your ear caused a loud moan to fall from your lips.

His breathing was loud and hot against your neck, his own moans mixing with grunts and muffled calls of your name.

He shifted you in his lap, the new angle allowed him to thrust himself deeper into you, his grip on your hips like a vice. It would have taken the strength of a thousand warriors to stop the cry that left you. Sihtric tried to silence the sound with his mouth.

‘Shh he does not get to hear the noises you make for me, my love.’

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head in both pleasure and exasperation, the man asked the impossible. As if to prove himself Sihtric doubled his efforts. The pace he set made it impossible for you to match but the friction it placed on your clit was euphoric. Your hands dragged along his back, his chest, his arms. His body was too much. It was all consuming and you lost yourself in the feel of him.

Your orgasm blind sighted you, pleasure shattering you as you panted into his shoulder. Sihtric’s movement’s didn’t falter as he worked you through your climax, merely whispering sweet nothings and praises into your ear.

Just as before you knew when Sihtric was close, those fast little sighs in your ear giving him away. You began to match his pace once more, your hands went to his hair, half massaging, half gripping it as you slammed yourself down on him. After your own orgasm it was as if you gripped him from the inside out. You were impossibly tight and the strangled moan that came from the back of Sihtric’s throat as he came assured you that it was too much to bare in the best of ways.

You were both breathing heavily when Sihtric fell back onto the furs and you followed, collapsing on top of him. His arms wrapped around you, securing you to his chest as you gently kissed his neck.

‘I hope the boy will understand now.’ Sihtric’s voice was steady, you could tell the thought of Jorin did not bother him anymore. ‘I don’t think Uhtred will be as forgiving if I have to beat the boy for a second time.’

You whacked his chest lightly and the man beneath you flinched in mock pain.

‘Uhtred can say nothing of doing something stupid over a woman. It’s in his nature…’ Sihtric laughed openly now, his chest rumbling and shifting beneath you. ‘If the boy doesn’t understand then I’ll just have to tell him that I am yours, and only yours Sihtric. Not that it should ever need saying. And that will always be the way of it.’ You didn’t need to look at him to know he was smiling, the image was so firmly imprinted on your brain that it didn’t take any conjuring.

‘You are my heart Y/N.’

Sleep took you then, Sihtric’s heartbeat and the soft howl of the night wind becoming the perfect lullaby.

-*-*-*-

You were woken up by Finan calling your names, threats of leaving without you and Uhtred’s wrath. Even went as far as to threaten throwing a bucket of water on you if you didn’t shift your arses. 

You and Sihtric did so begrudgingly.

Despite this neither of you could hide the little smiles on your faces. Your legs ached and you knew the ride today would be a bastard one. But it was worth it.

Stepping out of the tent with Sihtric, your hands interlaced, was an experience that you had not anticipated. You could feel the blush spread from your neck up to your ears. Everyone in view had taken notice of your current … state.

‘Jesus Christ where you attacked in the night Sihtric?’ Finan’s eyes were ablaze with amusement and approval. The Irishman shook his head with a smile as Sihtric smirked at him. You patted your friend on the back before tying up your hair. As soon as your neck was exposed Finan gasped, his joy and appreciation for a good night under the fur evident on his face.

‘You too Y/N? Mary mother of Jesus, you look worse than he does… and that’s saying something.’

Sihtric spoke before you, he was looking at neither you or Finan. Instead his eyes were fixed on Jorin, the boys face was pale and bruising as he sat by the fire, his own gaze going anywhere but you.

‘She does entice even the most docile of beasts.’

‘And you are no docile beast, my friend.’

[cosmiclatte28]

Lie to Me (Jaemin x you)

Angst.. I am still learning to write angst that can really make you cry, but I can’t 

Warning : cheating is not a good thing.

Enjoy! 

When people say first love won't last long, you often question them. Why? Because apparently you see some people sticking to the end with their first love, and up to this day you believe your love story will end the same way or maybe even better. That was what you have in your mind living with two children under a comfortable roof with your first and last love, Na Jaemin. Today however, you start to question if there will be a happily ever after for you and Jaemin or at least for you. With what Jaemin have, there's no way he cannot get his happiness. Look at the amazing group of friends he worked with, look at the swooning number of fans! All of those fans out there are willing to die and kill for him. His income is flowing in regularly, he doesn't need to worry about heart breaks, it's either he broke heart, or he got broken and find another one. There are many fish in the sea and apparently this will work for Na Jaemin. It's been two years of hiding from public media and fans. Two years of holding on to the pain of not being able to tell anyone that you are dating the idol Na Jaemin. Eight seasons of sneaking Jaemin into your room or sneaking into the dorm. The members knew about you, but they are a good brother and they keep their mouth shut. Everything was worth the hustle the pain and the love, not until you got home from your tiring nine to five work and got greeted by a trending news. You take the bus ride home, wishing that Jaemin is now here beside you, holding your hand through the orange candied sky. You cannot lie that autumn looks good at some point and you actually want to be able to walk home with Jaemin while sipping on hot pumpkin spice latte. On your seat by the window, you open your phone and curiously click on the website that appears on the first Tweet you see. Right at that moment your eyes shake and your lips tremble. The loud voice of the busy road and bus engine were gone replaced by a long deafening silence. Your finger froze midway to the news and you lock your phone. There in the media, was a picture of Jaemin and a secret girl, along with screen shots of their chats and selfies. Luckily there was no bad news coming with it, the girl did not accuse Jaemin for anything bad, but the media was clearly stating "Na Jaemin, fan service king turns out to be dating a fan for three months."

Three months?! That's also how long Jaemin has been dumbly smiling to his phone at night, the time he woke up earlier than you did which confused you before, but now made sense. You try to remember all the odds he did in the past three months, you knew that style of chatting was Jaemin's and that is enough to convince you that your boyfriend might be cheating on you for three months without you realizing it. Stupid? Kind of. You got home after the long ride and with big stride you take the lift to your apartment, wishing with all your heart you have something to eat since you don't feel like going out. Right when you enter the house, the least expected man you want to see right now is already lounged over your sofa. There sprawled on your couch, is Na Jaemin in his sweet innocent sleeping face. You want to choke and strangle him with the pillow right now, but how can you when you see that fragile kid face. For a second you feel like you're the most evil person in the world, trusting rumors rather than asking your boyfriend about the truth. Looking at his sleeping baby face, you can't imagine Na Jaemin actually cheating behind you, but that's the point right? If he knew you won't slightly think or believe he is cheating, one might as well use the benefit right? Your mind is playing with "what ifs" and finally you choose to wake up the problematic person in your life right now. Jaemin squirms when you toss him a pillow to wake him up. "Hey my baby is home." He yawns and gives you that sweet smile while still having his eyes closed. He stretches and you cannot decipher if he is acting cute so you won't be mad as he explains the rumor or does this child did not know the news has spread. Your face was sour and he quickly catches on that you're not in a good mood and it's his goal to always bring back smile on your face. "What's with that evil with face?" You sigh, and sit down beside him. You hold his shoulder to face you and stare into his eyes deeply. "Please look at me," you whisper hopelessly Jaemin still has his confused face on. "Tell me what is going on Nana." Jaemin glances down to your phone, he clearly knows what you are talking about. Hell he already received a lecture from Taeil, Johnny, and Taeyong not to mention Jeno and Haechan. "You know I'm not like that right?" Jaemin swallows a lump on his throat, gosh the audacity he has to lie on your face. Your pupil trembles as they search the truth Jaemin nicely hide behind hid Idol eyes. You shake your head, "How can I trust you when I cannot read through you." "She's just a friend," Jaemin squeaks. "Is she really just a friend?" your voice cracks, Jaemin saw the news he saw the chat and oh it doesn't wonder if you think that snippet of chat is more than friendly. Jaemin cannot answer your question, he wants to fight back but he messed up. He cannot lie anymore to you, or can he? "I am sorry, I was not in my right mind." he reaches out to hold your hands, but you quickly hide them. "What do you mean by that?" your chest is raising up and down faster. Jaemin closed his eyes, "Some of them are true." Your heart shatters and you cannot think of anything else. Did he just shamelessly confess that he indeed was cheating? "You're lying!" you try to deny the fact, but Jaemin shakes his head. "I am not lying. I am sorry you had to discover it." Your eyes shot open, did he not expect you to know at all?! How belittling was that. He shifts closer to you, and you flinch "Stop Jaemin, give me some spa-" "Don't give me space, that's the least thing I want with you." His puppy eyes made a big impact here. "I know I shouldn't be here," you let out a huff Jaemin gets flustered, "What do you mean by that, I can explain we broke up already. I told her I was with you." "You deserve more," you whisper and tears finally fall down your face. "I'm scared." you stare in horror to Jaemin, this sweet angel has been lying on your face for god knows how long. Were you some kind of toy for him?! "I'm sorry. I swear I'll do things different this time, believe me..." He pleads to you. "I want to believe you, I do, but you're just going to hurt me again Jaemin," You shake your head when he pleads you with his eternal sweet angelic face. "Do you ever mean anything you say?" you ask him. Flashes of videos you see on the internet haunts you, Jaemin can easily say "I love you" to his fans and be called a fan service, but have you ever think if the one he gave to you were not a part of fan service too? Did he really mean it when he whispers "love" to your ears. Jaemin stays quiet, "I mean it," he whispers after a while. "You won't understand. Was I just another fan service thing to you? Did you see me also as one of those girls who will swoon over you when you do that?" you're hurt by the fact that this sentence was true. Look at you, not even realizing if he is cheating on you because you are blinded by his sweet nothings. "Can I hug you?" he asks slowly when you just stay quiet and out of your mind. You shake your head, "I need to go. See you Jaemin." You grab your bag and coat and rush to leave him. You need to clear your mind first, maybe a talk with the other members may help you keep your mind straight. The young boy crashes to the sofa, his eyes can no longer hold back his tears. In silence he sobs by himself, he knows he did something so wrong and it's his own fault this happens. "Am I too late?" Was all he asked when he think of the times he kept all of this a secret, it started as a harmless joke with a fan he find interesting in the fansign. Then the joke turns into small talks, to midnight calls, and to secret meetings. Jaemin did not mention he is dating you; it'll blow up your two years of hiding with him. But then one night he went over the border, teasing the fans and their chat was no longer on the side of friendship. It goes beyond and when Jaemin explains he needs to stop this thing, the girl blew up all of the secrets. Making distorted rumors here and there, You apparently was one of the victims of the media and Jaemin hates himself more with the fact that you did not even give him a chance to explain. Two hours later he got a voice message from Jeno. "Jaemin, she's here with us. (y/n) is alright, just meet her when you are ready and she is too. I think tomorrow she can see you." That was all Jeno left to him and that night Jaemin spends the night on your bed, realizing it was cold and lonely without you.

 want a next part? 

end or continue?

[vikingsagine]

My Loyalty Is Yours (Ivar x Reader)

Hey, this one. I like it but its kinda long. Don’t know how long it is. but yerp. Love my cripple God Ivar the Boneless, kind of miss his ruthless behavior. Miss that psycho tang he had in season 5. Can’t wait for the finale. (Admire my beautiful crazy baby)

Summary : Reader is interrogated by Bjorn to why you were imprisoned instead of fighting for Ivar, the man you dedicated your life to. You are his right hand, his most trusted and most loyal.

Warning: Violence. Mentions of rape. Pretty sad. Death.

“Why are you still here?” Gruff and tough. You were on your knees, hands tied behind your back, body tattered and bruised from torture. Bjorn sat with pride on the dark throne, carved from maple oak wood, where not too long ago you were standing next to. Not sitting, not below but standing beside. Now, a bloody mess grovelling at the hands of another ruler. “Why were you imprisoned and not fighting for my brother?” He leaned forward, light silver-ish eyes boring into yours with such dominant demeanour, it reminded you of a hunter looking down on its prey.

“It’s good to see you too, Bjorn Ironside.” Your voice was dry from the long days of imprisonment. The lack of food and water and rest. Your lips curved upwards smugly and spat the blood that kissed your teeth. Pushing yourself into a comfortable position, you spread your legs forward and slumped against the man standing behind you. A grunt leaving your lips. “I’m surprised to see you but, somewhat...happy.”

“Enough.” You knew Bjorn Ironside, you knew his brothers, Ubba, Hviserk, Singurd and especially Ivar. After the disappearance of Ragnar Lothbrook, when all the boys were teenagers and older, you made an appearance. In fact, it was exactly in the same predicament you’re in now. On your knees, bleeding and at the mercy of the ruler of Kattegat. “Answer me woman or I swear by the Gods that I will not hesitate to kill you right here, right now.” Bjorn was impatient, his fists clenched and teeth seethed waiting for your response. Your excuse.

“It’s simple, I couldn’t do Ivar’s bidding anymore.” When you arrived in Kattegat many years ago, you had a purpose. A clear and meaningful reason for your living. It was to serve and protect Ivar from everything and anything. All your life before Kattegat and the sons of Ragnar, it was about survival and fulfilling the wishes of the Gods. The visions or dreams of a sort that haunted you every night, led you to Kattegat. “I betrayed him.” The words felt venomous like burning water poured down your throat. You could taste the metallic flavour of your own blood.

“Tch and how do you suppose I should believe what you say?” Bjorn scoffed, intrigued by your honest response. It was a private meeting, with only you, the King of Kattegat, Ubba and his wife and Lagertha. They all stared and listened intently. 

“Bjorn’s right, (Y/N). We all know of your dedication towards my little brother. What reason is there for you to betray him even though, I recall, your purpose was to serve and protect him.” Ubba finally spoke, his striking blue orbs filled with conflict of pain but also righteousness. It wasn’t easy for him to see the girl he once thought as a little sister and a good friend, covered in different wounds that were dripping with blood and crusting from dirt and rotting flesh. You missed Ubba. His gentle and kind heart. You missed having his friendship, the days of endless drinking and dancing and fighting. “Does your loyalty change?”

“Ubba. My sweet and gentle Ubba.” The memory still seemed fresh yet so far away. The days where you’d share stories and laugh over a cup of ale as he tried to flirt with other women and as you watched longingly at Ivar. They were all turned to ash when your swords met during the fight over Kattegat, working alongside Ivar and King Harald and Hvitserk. “I don’t wish you to believe me. That is your own choice and decision, a right I do not own.” Ubba frowned at your answer, not at all proving a reason to keep you alive. “However, I am still loyal to Ivar. I always will be.” Ubba’s jaw clenched, expecting a different response and the hope behind his warm ocean orbs, crushed. 

“I don’t understand. You say you betray Ivar but yet, still loyal to him. That does not make sense.” Torvi spoke up from beside her husband, beautiful blonde hair glowing like pure ember that her murderous and calloused hands betrayed. You knew she was a strong woman and you smiled, happy that Ubba found a great wife and shieldmaiden. 

“I did not betray Ivar the way you think I did.” You remember the exchange, vividly. The night you wanted out. The night you refused Ivar’s wishes. The night he broke your heart. Letting out a long sigh, you closed your eyes and reminisced in the painful memory. All of it came back to you like an arrow diving into your heart. The tears, the emotions, the words, the blood, the action and the choice. “Two moons before the attack, Queen Freydis gave birth to the supposed divine son of God Ivar.” Your voice mocked the word God as if talking to the self-proclaimed man himself. Imagining the scowl crossing his face and then the bitter insult he’d snark back. “The boy, you see, was...different. He wasn’t what Ivar expected. He saw him as himself, crippled and ruined. And so, he ordered me to kill him. To kill his own child.” Your eyes locked with Bjorn’s filled with burning tears and suppressed emotions. “And I did. I left him out in the cold, leaving the crying babe to defend for itself. Left it for a pack of foxes that ended up eating him, but even still, the baby was dead beforehand because it was too cold.” Your voice started to shake, recalling the cries, the innocent shrieks of a pleading and freezing child in the middle of the forest on a sharp winter night. 

“No, no, you didn’t. Y-you couldn’t have. Ivar forced you to, the (Y/N) I knew wouldn’t have done that. She wouldn’t of-.” Ubba intervened, distraught by the news and took a few steps closer to your hunched figure. His eyes pleading for you to be joking as sick as it was, he hoped you were lying, kidding. But you weren’t.

“You’re wrong.” You snapped, aimed your stern glare towards your best friend. “I did Ubba. It may have been Ivar’s wish, but I could have rejected, I could have chosen otherwise. The girl you were once friends with, is long gone.” It was true, all that time you spent with Ivar had changed you. Slowly but surely twisting that once righteous and somewhat innocent soul into nothing but a slave to a monster. A heartless and dutiful dog. You took another deep breath, swallowing the emotions clogged in your throat and returned your famous stoic and expressionless mask. “But after that night, I could no longer do it anymore. I could no longer be that person and I told him, I was done. I was done with killing innocents and slaughtering the people I grew up with. But oh no, it was not a good enough reason. Ivar screamed and yelled and we were like that for a while.”

“Ivar, I’m done.” You uttered barely above a whisper, standing in front of your supposed God with the cold of the night's air still nipping at your cheeks and fingertips. The merciless man froze in his seat, motioning for his men to quiet and turned away from his wife who was clueless by your doings. 

“What did you say?” His tone was gentle and soft but still filled with cruelty and opposing anger. The fire behind his icy blue eyes burned like wildfire. The smile, however fake it may be, was dangerous and deadly. Daring you to speak again. His men soon noticed his change of behaviour and lowered their heads, their flappering mouths came to a pause but their ears burned with curiosity.

“You heard me, I’m done. I cannot do this anymore.” 

“Please, leave us.” Ivar spoke calmly, waiting for his men and wife to leave the room. To leave you two alone to discuss the current matter. It was normal. Mundane for you two to argue about things, his battle tactics, his childish behaviour or your reckless demeanour and your hostile behaviour towards everyone. Soon enough, it was just you and him. 

“I will be leaving Kattegat at first light tomorrow morning. I wanted to tell you this before going and to inform you that Hvitserk is now the leader of your armies before the attack from Bjorn and King Harald.” You stood, waiting for a reply from Ivar. You did not expect him to huff, lean back into his chair and continue eating his meal.

“You can’t.” He hummed, a smile spreading across his lips.

“And why can’t I?” His immature behaviour pushed your buttons. 

“Because I rule over you and you are mine. Bound to me by the fates of the Gods, you say so yourself.” Ivar spoke smugly, happy with himself and thought his reasoning to be perfect and completely reasonable. “Besides, why would you leave? You have everything that you need and could ever want. You have done nothing wrong.” You were left awestruck for a split second. Staring at Ivar like he’d grown two heads. 

“Nothing wrong?” Your voice picked up in disbelief, your voice beginning to falter as your heart pounded and your mind sped up. Flashes of obeying his orders coming to mind. All the deaths, all the screams, all the killing on your hands. “Nothing wrong!? Ivar, I just finished killing your son! Your baby! And you think that is everything I want and need?!” You were glad everyone had left and that the walls were made with solid timber and the clash of thunder and rain roared outside. Ivar snapped his head back, not liking the way you raised your tone at him as if you were superior. 

“Do not talk to me as if I am lesser than you.” Ivar growled and grabbed his crutch to stand up and limped towards your figure draped in leather and cloth. His eyes widened and glared down at you. 

“I am not speaking to you as if you are lesser than me, I am yelling at you because I am angry.” You could feel thick tears burn your placid brown orbs, ready to spill and your throat ready to crack. “I am angry and tired of killing people. That is all I do and see Ivar. Is death. Is blood. All their bodies. People I know, people that have once called me friends, I killed in cold blood. All because of...all because…” You couldn’t finish the sentence, Ivar’s heated gaze trapped on you and breathing in every word you screamed wholeheartedly. 

“All because of what, hmm? All because of what? Go on, finish the sentence. All because of me, right?” His voice seethed, his tone dark and heavy as he leaned in closer to your face so you could hear and feel his wrath through his breathing. “Yes, blame me. Blame me like I forced you to do that. I gave you a choice. Everytime, I told you, you didn’t have to do it. But yet, you accepted. So, this...this isn’t just my fault. This is your doing too. You had a choice to make, to walk with clean hands or to kill for me?” Both Ivar’s hands came around your shoulders, squeezing tight and his nails dug into your clothes. “You think I wanted you to kill my son, huh?! You think I wanted that? No, I did not! But I wasn’t going to have him grow up just like I did. A cripple. A laughingstock for everyone. A reason to pity. A harder life to live.” You stared up at him with shocked facials, staring at the pure and passionate emotions he was displaying. 

“And that gives you the right? That’s supposed to make me feel better. To make me feel like I’m no longer a monster.” You shoved his hands off of you and stomped your feet on the ground. “Everything I have done, I have done for you. I have protected you, killed hundreds for you, lied for you, been raped for you, been defiled and humiliated...for you.” 

“Then why do you stay? I know the Gods do not wish this upon you. So please, do not give me your poor excuse of it being the Gods doing, that I am your fate, your duty, your responsibility. Because I know, there is more to it.” His fists came to your collar and clenched. You could feel your emotions overtake your usual calm and strategic mind, overthrowing all sense out the window and before you know it, you punched him across the face. Striking him down onto the ground with a thud, he growled. 

“Because I love you. I love you so much that it hurts.” Tears were now violently falling from your cheeks as you slumped on the floor, glaring at Ivar - the cripple who stole your heart, silently, slowly but completely. He didn’t say a word, his jaw didn’t shut and his eyes didn’t waver. “All my life, I never knew what family was. I didn’t know what it was like to love. And then I find you and of course, I thought these emotions were the feelings the Gods had put on me, what it was like to actually find their duty and responsibility. But then, I fell in love with you. It was no longer the Gods who kept me by your side, it was my heart.”

The fight still pained you to this day. It was one of your greatest regrets but one of your most needed encounters in your life. You had been sitting in silence for a while now, just staring out to nothing until Bjorn Ironside finally spoke. His patience ran thin and wanted answers. There were visible tears falling from your eyes, stinging your prior wounds across your cheeks but not enough for you to care. 

“Right.” You coughed, clearing your throat in hopes of ridding the obvious hurtful emotions that were on show for everyone to see. “I told him that I...that I loved him and for a long time he didn’t say anything and I left. However, just as I predicted, he sent his men to kill me and proclaimed that I was a murderer, a traitor and a spy working for your armies.” You let out a dry laugh, the betrayal and the disappointment hurting you. It was silly to think that you would expect Ivar to let you leave. It was naive to think that he’d feel the same, that he loved you enough to let you go.  It was stupid enough for you to hope, that the great Ivar the Boneless, would put his paranoia for power and victory to actually let you escape. He was too caught up in the idea that you’d betray him. And in his mind, you wanting to leave was already a betrayal. So, therefore, you did betray him. “And now, here I am, alive to live another day.” 

[efrmellifer]

Abenteuer

Wolmeric Week May 2021, Day Five: Adventure

“Come home and pack a night bag,” Etien instructed, barging into Aymeric’s office.

Before he could stop and formulate a proper response, he had already blurted out a less-than-dignified “What?”

“You said you wanted to come along with me on an adventure. I figure we’re never going to get the time if we don’t take the time. And you could use a vacation. So come home with me and pack a night bag. We’ll have you back here, quill scratching, by tomorrow afternoon.”

Well, it was hard not to trust her, when, to boil it into one sentence, it was Etien. And she was right, he did need a vacation. A change of scenery for a night might do him some good.

He looked her over, taking in the dark blue coat she wore (a gift from Lord Edmont, he thought?) and the soft, unarmored hempen leggings she had on underneath, tucked into boots that were equally stylish and practical.

She couldn’t have extended her hand to him any more obviously without physically doing so. So he laid his hand in hers. Metaphorically.

“Where are we going?”

“You like The Churning Mists, don’t you?”

_

They walked through the Chocobo Forest, packs on their backs and hand in hand.

“And you cleared this with Lucia?”

“Lucia wanted to evict you from your office. I was the one with the kinder idea to order you to come home and pack some things.” Etien stopped walking, looking up at Aymeric as he laughed, a tiny, fond smile on her lips.

“That was kind of you. I don’t know what I would have done for one night.”

Now she rolled her eyes and kept walking. “I know it’s been worse in the field before. But this is supposed to relax you at least a little bit. Thought you might be more comfortable in fresh clothes tomorrow.” She kept walking. “Though I suppose you could have just prayed for rain, and chewed some tree bark for oral hygiene.”

“Does that work?”

She nodded. “At least, it always does for me. Got the smell of wine off my breath once, too.”

“The smell of wine? That’s not like you.”

She grimaced. “It wasn’t indeed.” She squeezed his hand a little tighter, leading the way along the path.

“Remind me what that large structure is again?” he asked.

Studies had been conducted on the architecture that remained in the Dravanian Forelands since the end of the Dragonsong War, in an attempt to understand what about these ruins had helped them to endure for so long. (The help of the dragons, was the conclusion they had come to so far.) But Aymeric hadn’t been involved in much of those investigations, and Etien knew little about architecture. She could identify the rocks used, and she recognized the style as similar to that of Ishgard, but even combining their knowledge, they didn’t know anything much, other than…

“Anyx Trine. A fairly large dragon roost, from what I understand?” she said, squinting into the late afternoon light as she tried to remember. “We’ve been here before.”

“I did think I recognized it.” Recollection washed over him. “You do not plan to take me through Mourn again, do you?”

She shook her head emphatically. “No, no. I just prefer going to Moghome from here. The distance is shorter.”

Aymeric nodded. “Again, your kindness is appreciated.”

Two masses of aether shimmered, and then they were gone.

_

“I don’t want to talk to Chieftain Moglin right away,” Etien groaned when they appeared again at Moghome.

“Etien, did you bring me up here to do chores for the Moogles?”

“No. Well… no. I brought you up here because it’s a pretty place to spend a night. But I knew we were going to be caught wandering around anyway, so I thought we might as well get our obligatory act of service out of the way, kupo.”

Aymeric heaved a heavy sigh. “Fury have mercy. All right. I can do the talking.”

And with that, they were sent wandering all the way to the Landlord Colony, gathering spices and flowers.

“What do they even do with these?”

Etien ran her scythe through the stems of the flowers Aymeric was holding upright for her. “I assume they cook with the spices. The flowers”--she sliced down some more blooms-- “I have no idea.”

“Have you never eaten Moogle food?”

“I doubt they’d feed us. But no. I haven’t. Ysale cooked when we…” A shadow passed over them, and they both looked up. “Were here.”

Then the thud of a dragon landing.

“Friend of Ysale! What bringeth you to the Churning Mists?”

“Vidofnir!” Etien chirped, doing her best to embrace the dragon’s neck. “Ah… visiting. We were hoping to enjoy a night out here. You remember Aymeric, right?”

“Indeed I do. Welcome once more to my father’s home, son of Thordan.”

Etien winced, but relaxed as Aymeric thanked Vidofnir.

“We had best get this plant matter back to the Moogles. I expect they’re waiting, tapping their little paws,” he whispered.

_

Finally, night had come and the Moogles were satisfied with the services rendered.

“I thought they would never let us go,” Etien mumbled, handing over a plate. “Careful, it’s hot.”

Aymeric scoffed. “But they did. And not a moment too soon; if I had had to wait much longer for this, I’d have started eating grass.”

“I’m sorry,” she replied, sitting down, waiting for her food to finish cooking.

“It was through no fault of yours, dearest. In fact, I find myself impressed you managed to get this done so quickly.” He bit into the roast fowl. “And well.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” she chided with a smile.

“Aw, but this is my vacation, surely I can be a little less well-mannered?”

Etien rose from where she’d been sitting, carefully stepping around the fire, and sat down next to him, leaning against him. “I suppose so. For a treat.”

He held out a carrot for her. “Here, have some.”

“Mine is still on the fire. I’ll be okay.”

“Eat, Etien. You do not have to wait.”

“Oh, all right.” She bit into the carrot while he held it still, then took it from him. “I’ll just give you my parsnip when it’s done, then.”

When she’d sat down again, with her food, she jumped, as if she had sat on something.

“A rock?” Aymeric asked.

“No. I just remembered.” She dug in her bag, pulling out a small bottle. “I brought wine for you.” She uncorked it with her teeth, and handed the bottle over. “Hopefully drinking directly from the bottle is one of those less than well-mannered things you feel like doing.”

He snorted, sipping at it. “This is good. Where did it come from?”

“Out in the Sylphlands.” She sat down again, handing over her parsnip as promised and tucking into her food.

Aymeric tipped the bottle toward her before he finished it. “I couldn’t forgive myself if I failed to share.”

Etien reached out, then her hand curled, as if she were rethinking it. Finally, she took the bottle and had a tiny sip. “There. The rest is yours.”

“I appreciate you making an effort,” he murmured, draining the bottle of its remaining contents, and rolling it toward her bag again.

She leaned against him again, purring. “For you? Always.”

_

Unfortunately, Etien had forgotten that dragons weren’t the only danger of the Churning Mists, and that the others hadn’t gone away when the chorus of the dragons was a peaceful chorale.

So she was taken utterly by surprise when she saw a Melia stalking Aymeric back toward their little campsite from the Moogle residence a short distance away that he’d wandered off to.

She called to him, already nocking an arrow (of course she’d brought her bow), and telling him, “move toward its back quickly, but do not get its attention.”

He did as she said, and watched as an arrow lodged itself in the bark of the creature, then another, this one with a sickly scent to it. He backed away from the Melia and the dangerous arrows, one whizzing by his ear with the force of a gale.

“I didn’t know you were moving, sorry!” she called.

But the creature collapsed, withering as it did so, and Aymeric trotted back to Etien’s side.

“Well. That was an adventure.”

“I always deliver on my promises,” she replied, putting away her bow. “Are you tired? I’m tired.”

“I am,” Aymeric answered, rolling out their bedding for the night. “We don’t expect rain, correct?”

“Aye, should be clear skies all day.”

“Wonderful.” When the bedrolls were ready, she lay down, staring up at the sky. Aymeric joined her, and before he could reach out to pull her to him, she was already scooting closer.

They both looked up at the sky.

“So… all those years ago, when you had me go to Silvertear, and Midgardsormr dulled Hydaelyn’s blessing,” Etien began.

Aymeric hummed, not quite inquisitively, but to indicate that he followed where she was leading, and he was listening.

She continued. “Had you actually seen the Dragon Star get brighter?”

“I have to believe that the astrologians did, for the sake of my own understanding of everything that came after. Why?”

“I just wondered if you had said that so you could take a measure of the Scions. Of me specifically.”

“No, I always thought that what was said about you was true. What Haurchefant had to say most of all. The first time I actually doubted stories about you was—I was going to say it was when they claimed you poisoned the Sultana. But it was actually when people whispered that you were… how did they say it? Sweet on me?”

Etien snorted and giggled. “Shame. Imagine how much faster things might have gone if you’d trusted that rumor above any other.”

“Aye, but it does no good to dwell on the past and what could have been,” Aymeric conceded with a sigh, pulling her closer still to kiss her forehead. “And now, even though I would think the Dragon Star hasgotten brighter, seeing as Midgardsormr is among us again, I cannot tell.”

She tipped her head, struggling to look at him. “Why’s that?”

“Because having you with me, every star burns more brightly.”

[benditlikepress]

to be with you

my contribution for @talisbirthdaychallenge including 5 of the prompts! as always for my big love @justkindaoverhereobsessing <3

Read here on AO3

The first thing Tony was aware of when he woke up was something poking at his nose.

He opened one eye to find it still pitch-black outside, but before he could adjust to the lack of light something poked him again. A weight on his chest. And then, finally, a little scratch on his cheek.

"Hey, get outta here. This is our bed, not yours."

He tried to pull the blanket over his head but soon realised the weight he could feel on his chest was actually the full weight of the cat, tangled in the sheets, looking for his attention.

"Yours is over there! Do you see me climbing all over it? Hm?"

The cat pressed his forehead against Tony’s hand harshly, looking for attention, and Tony sighed as he relented into giving him a stroke.

By the time the cat got sick of that and began to try to worm his way under Tony’s arm onto the bed, he realised that the bed was empty (save for four-legged exceptions). Before he had time to react he heard some kind of mechanical noise coming from the kitchen. Checking the time with a sigh he stumbled to his feet, fending off cat paws, to investigate.

He pulled a sweater over his head as he exited the bedroom, soon realising that what he could hear was the unmistakable sound of an electric whisk at nearly 1 in the morning.

Ziva was stood at the countertop, surrounded by paper bags and measuring apparatus. The electric whisk had just been abandoned, metal prongs sticking up in the air. Her hair was tied messily up away from her face and she had one hand on her hip: he could only imagine the expression on her face as she stared down the mixing bowl in front of her.

He approached her from behind and wrapped his arms briefly around her waist - evidently she'd heard him coming, as her only reaction was to place her hands over his own and squeeze them before he pulled away.

"Sorry, did I wake you? I thought you were asleep."

"Nope. Somebody had other plans."

“What’s wrong?”

“Simba just started poking me for being asleep on my own pillow. Remind me who’s bright idea it was to get a cat?”

“Yours.”

“C’mon, I can’t be blamed for that. Tali knew I was half-asleep when she asked.”

Tali had been bugging Tony for a cat pretty much since she’d learned how to speak English. They'd compromised on adopting an older cat, on the understanding that they sleep most of the time. Tony, of course, hadn't realised that by 'sleep most of the time', Simba would mean 'sleep on your pillow most of the time'. He wasn’t sure why he got singled out for that kind of special treatment.

“She is a master manipulator as well as a 5-year-old, yes?”

“6-year-old, as of… 47 minutes ago.”

"I cannot believe how fast time has passed."

“I know. We don’t even look old enough to have a 6-year-old.”

The amused look Ziva gave him encouraged an instinctive grin on his face, but when his cheeks moved he thought he felt a tinge of soreness from where the cat had been clawing at him. He lifted his hand to it.

“Do I have something on my face?”

Tony felt over his cheek before Ziva dragged his hand away, moving his face and holding it to the light. He couldn’t help but smile again in spite of the pain when she pressed a kiss over it and scrunched her face affectionately as she let go.

"You are being dramatic. I think it is a sign he loves you."

"Yeah, I'll bet. What are you doing up, anyway?"

“Yoga.” Ziva pulled a quick, sarcastic expression and looked pointedly at the mixture in the bowl in front of her. Tony dipped his finger in the bowl and licked it clean.

The slap to the back of his head probably should've been expected.

"You aren't allowed to do that."

"Gibbs gave me permission when we spoke earlier."

"You spoke to him?"

"Yes. He has finally worked out Zoom. Or at least he has found somebody to set it up for him.”

"What did he want?"

"To wish Tali a happy birthday. And for me to give you that."

"Sure he did."

Ziva raised her eyebrows in challenge, not backing down as she tipped some baking powder into the bowl and stirred it. Tony cracked first, laughing a little in disbelief until she looked away with satisfaction.

"Y'know, we ordered a cake."

"I know. But it is not coming until the evening. I thought it would be nice to have a small one to have with lunch."

"I never saw you being such a pushover."

"I am not - she didn't ask."

"So you're just a soft touch, then."

"Perhaps. I just want everything to be perfect tomorrow."

"It's today, technically. But it will be. I know it sucks we can't do everything we'd want to, but she's been spoiled like hell."

"It is our first birthday all together. I want it to be a memorable one."

"It will be."

She smiled a little at his insistence, and he could see that this was something she wanted to do for innocent reasons rather than because a burden of guilt at missed birthdays was hanging over her. Her eyes were bright and there was a lightness to her expression, so easily accepting his words.

"My mother used to stay up the night before our birthdays making cake like this. Tali used to always pretend she needed a glass of water to try and catch her in the act."

"I know who our Tali takes after, huh?"

"As if you would not be exactly the same, too."

"Well, that's true. Whereas you would never.”

“Absolutely not. Sometimes I would follow Tali when she woke up to see what she was doing, but that was just a coincidence.”

“Of course.” Ziva refocused on stirring the mixture with a frown as Tony thought about what she’d said. “Girl after my own heart, huh?”

“Oh yes. The two of you would have been quite the pair.”

“You think she’d have liked me?”

“That is an understatement - I can picture her talking about you. Harassing me about you, rather. Asking me why I have not married the handsome American yet.”

“Why haven’t you?”

"I think that is a question I could direct straight back at you."

"Well, if she really wanted to know. I'd say.. it's coming."

"It is, is it?"

"Mhmm."

"It only took us 15 years to get this far."

"I'm gonna go on record and say it won't be another 15."

"Noted."

A charged look passed between them, neither of them quite willing to be the first to look away. Tony eventually guided Ziva's eyes back to the cake mix and she went back to work, swallowing a smirk.

“So surprise cake is the David birthday tradition, huh?”

“Absolutely.”

“There a reason I didn’t get one, or..?”

“In spite of popular opinion, you are not, in fact, a child.”

“That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Ziva chuckled as she continued to stir the mixture, speeding the movement suddenly as though she’d seen something Tony hadn’t. He yawned at the sight of the physical exertion, drawing Ziva’s attention back to him.

“You’re tired. Go back to sleep, I am fine in here.”

“Where? The damn cat’s stolen my pillow.”

“Sleep on my side of the bed for now.”

“What use is your side of the bed if you’re not in it?”

Ziva went to sass him and then stopped as a smile invaded her face.

He pulled at her arm to turn her to face him and she dropped what she was holding onto the counter, wrapping her hands around his neck as he hungrily kissed her. He could feel the faint powdery residue of something like flour transferring from her fingers to the base of his hair but couldn't bring himself to be bothered as her tongue made its way into his mouth.

"You can be quite the charmer, Tony DiNozzo."

"It's what I do best.”

"I'm not so sure about that. Right now you are doing a great job of distracting me."

"Sorry, sorry. What can I do to help?"

"Maybe.. do you think this looks right?"

Tony looked down at the bowl Ziva was now holding in front of him, picking the mixture up with the spoon and allowing it to drop back down. He studied it for a few seconds, brow furrowed, before shrugging.

"I have no idea."

"I could not tell you the last time I baked anything. I am so out of my depth."

"I can't believe we were stuck inside for 2 months and neither of us learned to bake.”

"If you do not be quiet, I will tell you where this spoon is going to go."

“Someone’s got fighting talk at 1 in the morning.”

“What can I say – I am in a good mood.”

“Yeah?”

“It is Tali’s birthday, of course I am.”

He thought about telling her he’d worried about the opposite, particularly when he woke up alone, but he didn’t need to as he saw her register the look in his eyes and put a hand on his cheek.

“I know. I am feeling happy today, though. Happy to have made it here with you.” She waited for Tony’s reaction, continuing when she saw what he was certain was a twinkle in his eye. “I thought maybe I would struggle today. I had nose-marked it, actually, as something I might find difficult. But I am just feeling very.. grateful. To have you both.”

“That’s very sweet and I’m glad to hear it, but it’s actually ear-marked.”

“How reassuring it is that you never change, hm?”

He bent down to kiss her again and this time he felt her smile against his lips. She pushed him away lightly with the back of her hand on his chest as she picked up her phone and scanned through the recipe before looking back at the mess on the counter.

“This was a bad idea.”

“Come on, hey. We’re gonna do it and it’s gonna taste great. What’s next?”

“We need two cake tins.”

Ziva used the back of her flour-y hand to push hair out of her face, and Tony thought how attractive it was to see her like this. Maybe an opinion to save for another time, he added as an after-thought.

Evidently he lingered on it for too long, as Ziva's eyes got drawn back to him once again. This time she rolled her eyes, without a hint of malice. Seeing straight through him. "I do actually want to get this done, Tony."

"I didn't say anything!"

"You were looking at me."

"OK, I'll look at the wall if that'll help you control yourself around me."

"You are so- just find the tins, please."

"Yes ma'am."

"You realise the quicker this is done, the quicker we can go back to bed."

"I'm counting on it."

Tony ducked down with a grin into the cupboard where he'd accumulated a strangely large amount of baking implements over the years, digging through boxes of muffin cases and rolling pins.

A noise from down the hall had them both stop in their tracks. Tony’s hands stilled in the cupboard as the footsteps got closer.

“What now?” Ziva hissed at him as he held his finger to his lips to quieten her. She put the bowl back on the counter and turned so her back was against it, covering some of the mess. Tony got to his feet next to her.

“Follow my lead.”

She nodded, confused, at his quiet, confident voice, and when Tali finally appeared at the doorway they both had a smile plastered on their faces.

“Hey baby, it’s way too late for you to be up.”

“Why are you awake?”

“Simba woke me up poking me in the face.”

“He likes your bed.”

“Uh-huh, I know he does. But I like it too.”

Usually something like that would make Tali laugh, but instead she rubbed her eyes with the toy she was holding in her hands.

Ziva had, discreetly, turned towards the oven to pre-heat it, but Tali noticed the movement and tracked her with a frown.

“What’s ima doing?”

“She’s.. doing a favour for the birthday fairy.”

“There’s no birthday fairy.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yes. Why hasn’t she got me anything on my other birthdays?”

“Because.. the birthday fairy only comes on your sixth birthday. It’s supposed to be a secret until you wake up.” Ziva eventually responded while shooting Tony a look.

“That’s not true.”

“OK, well, we’ll see in the morning, won’t we?” Tony took over at Ziva’s silent insistence, smile in place. “But in the meantime I think you should go back to sleep as quick as you can. Just in case there is a birthday fairy.”

Tali still looked sceptical, but eventually nodded. “Will you tuck me in?”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight birthday girl.” Ziva bent down to kiss Tali’s forehead before Tony directed her back down the hall and into bed, where she got in without complaints and was fast asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

The cake mix was heading into the tins when Tony got back, and he began licking the used spoon while Ziva watched him.

“What?”

“I am never listening to you when you say ‘follow my lead’ ever again.”

“She’s back in bed, isn’t she?”

“Oh yes, problem solved. Now we have to make something from the birthday fairy?"