#when her partner is even SLIGHTLY inconvenienced

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Hi! I’d love a BG3 matchup if you have the time and energy! If not, feel free to discard this! I also do matchups, so if you’d like one feel free to send it my way!

Here’s my info:

General: Agender, they/them, aroace but I love hypothetical romances and I’m open to any gender in that case! I can’t say much for my appearance, as I have an issue with perceiving my actual appearance that makes it hard for me to know what I look like, apologies for that one.

Personality: I'm a Scorpio, INFJ-T, and in general I'd say I align with those assignments. I'm extremely introverted to the point of being asocial. I spend most of my time by myself, and if I could I'd do everything on my own, since I'm stubbornly independent, and very cautious around people, even those I know well. Despite this, I'm not unfriendly, I just have a really hard time connecting with others due to my social anxiety. I really appreciate people who go out of their way to connect with me, and I make friends with people quickly when I get the chance. Once I get comfy I become very blunt and humorous. I tend to say and do as I please, though never to the detriment of someone else, as I tend to put other's needs above my own. I'll talk for hours about my interests and passions, and I'm always up for a challenge. I also have a very strong moral compass, and I refuse to compromise on it. I try to be kind above all else, especially to those who seem to be in a rough place, as I haven’t always been treated kindly, and I want others to feel loved. I’m known for giving great advice and being a good shoulder to cry on, but I don’t let others take advantage of that. I do well in emergency situations, especially when leadership is needed, but I also tend to crumble under mounting stress, and lash out when upset. Overall I'm determined, creative, and compassionate, but also stubborn, judgmental, and fearful.

Likes: I love horror media and anything deemed unsettling, since things that make me uncomfortable fascinate me. I love animals (especially tarantulas and spiders) and nature, and I spend a lot of time drawing and painting the world around me and taking walks on sunny days. On that note, I’m an explorer, and I tend to get into spaces I shouldn’t be if only because my curiosity got the better of me. I enjoy composing, playing, and listening to music, especially instrumentals, rock, and soundtracks. I also play video games, especially RPGs and FPS games. I’m a boxer and archer, and while I don’t like athletics and sports that much, climbing, running, and adventuring is always fun for me, especially with friends.

Dislikes: Inconsiderate people, especially when they’re not aware of how they’re inconveniencing others. Trutthfully, I can be very judgemental and picky with friends or associates, and if someone annoys me even slightly I tend to disregard them. I also dislike those who are arrogant and cruel, and I have a particular distaste for seafood and being touched.

What I look for in a partner: Someone who is kind and understanding of my flaws, and especially someone with a good sense of humor. I feel like I don’t truly connect with people until we laugh about something together. I value honesty and communication as well, so someone who isn’t willing or can’t be open and vulnerable with me is a no go. As pessimistic as I am, I also believe in doing good and making other people’s days a little bit brighter if possible, so I couldn’t be around a cynic or someone intentionally cruel.

Fun Fact: I like to read medical textbooks, and I find visiting cadaver labs and watching medical procedures thrilling.

~~~~~ MATCH UP ~~~~~

I now present to you your math; they are funny, kind, compassionate, and a person always looking for a good time-----

Karlach

~~~~~ HEADCANON ~~~~~

Karlach would 100% be okay with being the instigator of all your interactions.

She will sit down with you, and if you ask her, she will describe how you looked in her eyes to help you understand what she sees.

She loves to make you laugh—not just any laugh, a true deep belly laugh. She will do anything to know she has made you the happiest she possibly can.

Karalch went through years of solitude as Zariel's forced right-hand woman, so she understands the need for space and being hyper-independent.

Karlach will always let you lead until you ask her to help you. She knows your morality aligns with her, so she never questions you.

Once Karlach gets her engine worked on and can touch people again, she finds every reason to have a hand, tail, or piece of herself touching you.

She never judges you if you fail or mess something up, she is right there softly comforting you and ready to assist you in anyway necessary to fix the situation.

~~~~~ BLURB ~~~~~

After days of intense terrain and countless enemies, the group rests. With no town or tavern in sight for miles, it was time for good ol' outdoor camping. As everyone set up their tents and cots, the sun started to set past the horizon. Food was served and drinks shared, and many retired for the night, ready to rest for the next steps in the adventure. All who stayed awake with the moon was Astarion on the night shift, you, and Karlach. You and Karlach had an exciting companionship; nothing felt forced or overwhelming. She always attended to your every need and desire as you had them, making you feel light and warm in her presence.

As if feeling you think about her, she made her way over to you, sitting down on the log you were on gently. "Heya love, what's on your mind tonight?" You smiled languidly at your partner and sighed contently. "You know Karlach ever since we got your engined tuned you have been a lot happier, it honestly makes me happy as well, seeing you finally have a life outside of hell fire." Karlach smiled softly at you, enjoying the compliment. She looked towards the sky, leaning back a bit. You also turned your head when you felt something gently wrapping around your arm. Looking down, a dark red tail had laid claim to your wrist.

Laughing gently, Karlach's attention was brought to where you were staring. She ignited slightly, not before removing her appendage first. "Sorry, when tieflings get happy, our tails do weird things." You let your lover cool down before gently grabbing her tail and wrapping it back around you. "It's okay; I like it; it makes me feel like you are always there with me." Karlach smiled wider and moved closer to you. Once in arms reach, she wrapped you in a gentle hug. Pulling away from the embrace, she placed a chaste kiss on your lips.

~~~~~ EXTRA ~~~~~

(One night, just outside of town, your group found a hot spring. Ready to relax for a night and clean yourselves off, the group decided to take turns in the pool of water.)

Shadowheart: This is amazing, honestly. It's just what we all needed, really. I could live in this forever if you let me.

Lazel: This isn't even remotely as hot as some of my mother homes in the astral realm. It feels almost as if we are in a warm bath.

Y/N: This is a nice reprieve from the outside world. We may be on an adventure, but our health should also come into play.

Karlach: Yes, this is worth the pit stop; I have to agree with Lazel. It isn't all that hot. Anyway, I will return to the guys and make sure they haven't scourched our dinner tonight.

(As Karlach leaves the pool, a noticeable temperature shift occurs)

Shadowheart: Well damn, no one tells the boys our little secret.

#baulders gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 x reader #x reader #match up #headcanon #karlach #karlach x reader #baulders gate karlach #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate karlach

[exaltededge]

@videcoeur

He should have known better. The weather lady said it was the calmest time of the year and to expect a sunny day. When Crocodile saw the grey clouds, he debated bringing an umbrella. His endless optimism made him decide against it. He wanted to believe the weather forecast. After an entire day out and about, he was to meet Mihawk at a restaurant, where they would enjoy fine dining, wine tasting, and the quiet tranquillity of a VIP backroom. Indulging in the finest things was one of his favorite hobbies, one he was, dare he say, glad he could share with another man of class like Mihawk. Unfortunately, he was a sopping wet beast when he reached the restaurant, and so was Mihawk, apparently. They'd both arrived at almost the same time but from different directions. Golden eyes peered at his business partner inquisitively. The white blouse beneath the black coat clung to the other's chest nicely, but he wouldn't be caught dead staring at Mihawk's bosoms. "Should we reschedule?" Curse this small city and its zero means of transportation beside one's legs. That said, he really didn't mind the view of a soaking-wet swordsman.

As inconveniencing as the rain is coming all this way and not drinking would be more bothersome than soaked clothes. Dracule has spent the better part of the day finishing mundane chores and reestablishing contacts before his reluctant rein as warlord; Yoru absent from his back, her size more hinderance outside of battle ... particularly with doors.

"I'd rather not." He sucks his teeth stepping under the restaurant's narrow awning, it doing very little to stop the downpour that's already soaked through his overcoat. Fingers pluck at the translucent fabric of his blouse, unusually bare chest taking the blunt of the water from his long walk across town. The swordsman makes a note to purchase a more robust wardrobe, if this damnable Cross Guild Crocodile wants to build has any life span moving from island to island will take it's toll on his expensive collection.

Eye's slide from his shirt to Crocodile, a single brow arching slightly. "Water will not ruin the rest of my evening, join me if you wish." Shifting his weight forward Dracule climbs the single cobble stone step to the restaurant's opening where he is promptly greeted by a neatly dressed hostess. Inside dark painted brick stands on the far supporting sides, a wooden statement wall resembling a topographic map curves like stacked rivers in the warm, intimate ceiling lights. Tables are simple dressed with several glasses, utensils and grey fabric napkins, guest quietly chatting amongst themselves a few giving him a passing glance. Hands already moving to remove his coat and fold it over a bended arm with his hat then sat atop it.

"Right this way sir, your room has already been stocked with warm towels and coffee."

#videcoeur #( called in ; board again ) ic #guilded folly ; post warlord #thread: rained out #looking is free (:

[wallflowerimagines]

alcina with an s\o who kind of,,, lets things happen to them. Like, s\o is getting walked all over by literally anyone, from another mortal to one of the lords and just. stands there and takes it? Also whenever s\o has any sort of sores or injury, they just take it as well and don't exactly ask for help or question why it's happening to them in the slightest. "probably my posture" if their back hurts or "i deserve it" if someone is being rude without reason. s\o jus, finds a dismissive reason for everything like that.

Hey, friend? Buddy??? You-- You do realize Alcina is from a horror game, right????? Because... Welp.

Warnings: Protective behavior from a horror game s/o (read: it's lightly described, but VIOLENCE)

Alcina Dimitrescu x Passive! Reader

Oh.

Oh she's pissed.

Alcina is hyper aware that you're a little more passive than most, and she has admittedly taken advantage of that from time to time herself, but the second she sees you brush off any sort of injustice towards you?

The Lady Dimitrescu is out for blood.

Alcina is a very protective partner normally, but with a partner like this she's got a much shorter fuse towards anyone who hurts you. You're hard enough on yourself-- it frustrates her to see you let people get away with far more than is excusable.

Alcina thinks of family as a point of pride. She is the Head of House Dimitrescu, and therefore is not only tasked with upholding the family name, but protecting it from any outside forces.

She is committed to taking care of her family, and as you are her partner, that includes you.

Therefore Alcina takes any slight towards you -- her partner, her consort, her other half, her family-- very, very personally.

She is more than happy to defend you when you are unwilling or unable to do so yourself.

And, while you might forget it from time to time, Alcina is a villain. In every sense of the word.

When it's her siblings or Mother, she's a little more restrained, but very passive aggressive.

Salvatore accidentally nudges you when he enters a room? She'll loudly comment on how he must not have meant to disrespect her partner with his disgusting physique. Donna or Angie ask you to move? Alcina must have misheard--after all you've done nothing wrong other than exist in your own space. Heisenberg breathes in your general vicinity? She smacks him across the room. That feels fair <3

HOWEVER: When the one who's offended you is a regular villager or human, the Lady Dimitrescu lets all of her darker impulses run free.

She won't drink from them--the blood is disgusting on her tongue, and she doesn't want to consume anything from someone that hurt you.

Instead, she will fully live up to the term "sadist". Alcina--ever the consummate host-- will invite these people to visit the cellars in her basement... Along with the breast rippers, the iron maiden, and the fun little knee splitter she had restored from an antiquities auction forty years ago.

She will also happily heat a room to inflict Rat torture, just so her Daughters can really see if rats will claw through flesh to avoid heat (it's a fun learning experience for them, after all, and Alcina delights in how their eyes light up when witnessing such an educational demonstration--it's so nice when the whole family comes together like this, isn't it?)

She likes to keep these specific individuals alive for as long as possible. It's fun for her, in a way. She inflicts suffering as a way to de-stress, but it's mostly to make sure that you are cared for and safe from people who would cause you harm.

Alcina is very thoughtful in that way, don't you agree? 💕💕

Weeks after the initial offense, you are surprised when Alcina sweetly hands you a handwritten letter of apology from the offender....in the offender's own blood. You stop being surprised when they are never seen again.

...On a lighter note, she does use the letter as an opening to talk with you. Alcina doesn't have a problem being your knight in shining armor, but she does worry about you, Darling. You need to try standing up for yourself a little bit more! It's concerning!

She will try to build up your self esteem in the meanwhile. She wants you to feel special, because you are, and has a tendency to whisk you away after an "offense" to spoil you for a bit.

She's going to do her best to make you realize what you really deserve-- happiness.

You are so, so loved, so special, and most importantly, you are worthy of respect. No matter what you currently believe, you deserve civility and kindness...and Alcina is happy to convince you of this fact as many times as you need ❤️

#passive reader #resident evil village #re8 #resident evil 8 #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcina x reader #when her partner is even SLIGHTLY inconvenienced #Alcina chooses violence ALWAYS #then she gives you a lil smooch 😘

[nillamybread]

°•×Pure Vanilla Headcanonsו°

These are mostly my headcanons for rp so if you don't like them it's ok, it's just my interpretation and you don't have to agree with it :)

°•×Main Character Headcanonsו°

•PV is afab*; he only realised he was male during his time with white lily studying with her and getting into all sorts of mischief. She accidentally said, "He's my best friend!" To another student and he has never gone back.

•He is pansexual; he loves everyone no matter their gender, he's just a big, loveable guy.

•He is polyamorous; he would rather have multiple partners than just one, however, he is also alright with monogamous* relationships, he just has a lot of love to give.

•PV is blind; he was born (baked?) partially blind, however, after the fight with the dark enchantress he lost his vision altogether. His staff is like a guide dog for him, meaning that when he was healer cookie he was completely blind and alone.

°•×Before The Fall Of Vanilla Kingdomו°

•Most of the ancients would believe him to be asleep in most meetings until he spoke up and frightened them all. There was no way to tell he was awake or not unless he had his eyes open or spoke.

•He gets the least sleep out of the entire group as when he wants to sleep, most people need him or one ancient has come back from battle injured. This leads to PV being out of commission for up to a day as he sleeps undisturbed.

•White Lily, Golden Cheese and Hollyberry play pranks on him by mildly inconveniencing him. Maybe by placing his hat slightly to the side of its normal place so when he goes to put it on, he is confused as to why he can't feel it or grab it. He figures it out, but his confused face always makes the three laugh.

•He will have bad days where he is extremely disoriented and forgets the outlay of his castle, and even with his staff's help, he can't find his way around. Either White Lily or Dark Cacao will offer to come over and help, reminding him of the castle's many hallways to the little details of the tiniest cracks. He appreciates it a lot.

•He makes flower crowns for the ancients; since most don't like wearing traditional crowns he makes flower crowns for them whenever they come to his kingdom for a meeting. GC has sunflowers and dandelions, Holly has petunias and holly leaves, White Lily has lilies and daisies and Dark Cacao has roses and orchids. All are naturally sourced from his personal garden.

•He loves cotton candy sheep, so much that he visits all of the ranches when they give birth and bottle feed the lambs. He also has a few as pets that cause carnage, however, he refuses to let go of them.

•All the way up to the appearance of the dark enchantress, he would regularly swap heartfelt letters with White Lily, he would never get any back but it was the thought that counted. She only told him how much those letters meant the last time he ever saw her.

•Before the fall, he had a family, not a big one, only a child, however, to save him from the fall that was inevitably going to happen, he sent him off to another kingdom under the alias of being under the "Custard" family. Regrettably, he never saw that child again. They were only a few months old when he sent them off to live with another family.

°•×During Healer Arcו°

•Healer has no memories of who he was or what he is, he just knows that he woke up blind and alone in a barren wasteland. He has no idea if he has friends, family, or even however old he is. He spends years upon years walking the land just to turn up where he was lost in the first place. He found a cool stick along the way though, it was wrapped in cloth and stuck in a bush. It seems to whisper to him 'I can't see'.

•His "cool stick" becomes his best friend, although it only repeats and laments on the phrase 'I can't see' he finds it nice to finally have someone to talk to.

•He appreciates noise a lot more. Being blind he takes his time to appreciate the sounds he hears from nature. His favourite is the rain, although it makes him soggy and cold, he can appreciate the sound of rain and it's one of his favourites as he travels. He also likes the blueberry birds chirping.

•People have confused him for this "Pure Vanilla" guy, to the point it got annoying and he actually questioned if he was an ancient, however, he couldn't be... Right?

•He remembers two things, a child called Dark Choco and an infant he cannot remember the name of. It confuses him to no end as he wonders if they have ever met or if he's just making these cookies up in his mind. He also remembers having a child, however, he has no idea what type of cookie he even is so he just gives up on that search after the first hundred years.

°•×Kingdom Clarityו°

•When he remembers who he is after entering the kingdom he takes an instant liking to the children. Especially Custard. He sees him as his own child and tries to hang out with him constantly, and custard happily does when he realises PV is the guy from the statues and supposedly his great-grandpa. They get along very well.

•He has a bad time remembering things, making him need either a constant reminder or a to-do list. However, he has plenty of friends to now help him through it.

•His preferred job is to work at the cotton candy ranch, however, he's usually on too many missions to work anyway.

•When cookies are out of the kingdom he picks up their jobs for them, making sure they are done properly before they return. He also cleans people's houses so that they have a clean bed to fall into after a fight.

•He's known as the sweet old grandpa of the kingdom.

•He has nightmares of what happened to his friends and they don't lift until Hollyberry arrives in the kingdom. He only then can try and forgive himself.

•When he meets Dark Choco he accidentally calls him Dark Cacao and it starts becoming worse and worse. He starts confusing people and it only starts clearing with Hollyberry's help. He feels awful about it.

°•×Keyword terminologyו°

Afab - Assigned Female At Birth

Monogamous - In love with/In a relationship with one person

#pure vanilla cookie headcanons #pure vanilla #cookie run #cookie run: kingdom #this man is not cishet #king custard the third #hollyberry #dark cacao #golden cheese #white lily cookie #cookie

[kim-ruzek]

Girl Crush

Summary: This time, Sylvie does not laugh at the bluntness of Kim’s words, instead blushing a fierce shade of pink. She was only half looking at Kim when she said those words, but now Sylvie looks at the other woman more directly. She is greeted by Kim looking at her—although, maybe staring would be more accurate. It’s an intense look, a look her friend has never given her before, a look that says that maybe Kim doesn’t want to be just her friend tonight.

Or; at the end of 3x23, Sylvie doesn't go home with Roman-- but instead with Kim. And gets the fucking she deserves.

Warnings: Smut, smut, smut. This is just my excuse to give Sylvie the orgasm she deserves and the one she clearly did not get with Ratman. And so there's also Roman bashing bc Roman is trash.

Word Count: 4.5k

Read on AO3

Notes: For @gilbxrt-blythe bc Abby started™ something in my mind on Sunday, thus leading me to writing this all yesterday bc,,, our girls deserve so much better than Sean Roman and this fandom needs more wlw content. Let's save our darling girls!!

Someone’s hooking up tonight.

Chili’s words go around in Sylvie’s head all night. Largely, she ignores them—or rather, tries to—just focusing on the beer she’s sipping faster than usual and the joyous atmosphere in the bar but there’s those moments it creeps into her thoughts.

Her PIC is right about one thing, the thing she said about volcanoes. The firehouse has been so tense of late and she can tell that a weight has been lifted off them, and Sylvie thinks that’s quite like a volcano. But she—perhaps, stubbornly—refuses to admit Chili might be right about the hooking up part.

If anyone was to know Sylvie’s thoughts, know that she’s trying, more vehemently that she should, to deny that, they question why. To which Sylvie would just claim that it’s because she hates gossiping about her co-workers, people who are her friends are family, and that she doesn’t like speculating on their sex lives.

Sylvie even tried to insist this to herself, not that it works. How can it when she can feel her toes curl slightly at the thought of just... Throwing everything to the wind and just enjoying some pure, unadulterated primal ecstasy. That she finds herself subconsciously looking around the bar, as if she’s trying to find a suitable candidate.

She has always felt the weight of her friends’ turmoil so heavily. Empathetic to the core, her father said, when he grinned at her becoming a paramedic, telling her it’s what she was born to do. She likes it, she does. She likes caring about those important to her, to care about anyone who’s a decent human—and even those who aren’t—but it gets tiring, feeling the weight of their unhappiness on her shoulders.

It’s not even like she was directly wrapped up in the drama going around in the house, but it was so intense—a volcano getting ready to burst. And something tells her that she won’t be able to shake it off with just getting drunk amongst her friends.

“Hey, Brett,” Sylvie looks to her left, seeing Sean Roman slip into the seat beside her. The paramedic smiles at him, ever polite, turning so she’s more face on to him. He was close to her before she shifted, and she thought that would be annoying, if he wanted to converse.

Only, Sylvie quickly gets that he doesn’t have talking on mind.

The patrol officer is quick to close the space between them again, shifting himself and resting a hand on the back edge of her seat. She could get away if she wanted, but it gives off a certain trapped vibe, a vibe that shows exactly the kind of intentions Roman has.

There’s a twist of uncomfortableness in her stomach. Roman is sort of attractive, she guesses, although she doesn’t know if she’d fully trust her taste in men yet; there being too many wrongly stacked choices compared to the right. But even if he was the hottest specimen she had ever seen, there’s something off putting about his approach, leaving her with the impression he doesn’t want her to move away from him.

But there’s that volcano inside her, wanting to explode, and the alcohol is already coursing through her veins, so despite the sober parts of her brain metaphorically screwing up its nose at the officer, Sylvie doesn’t attempt to move again, instead leaning on her arm, interested in whatever he has to say.

“I’ve got a few more interesting stories like that, if you want to hear more?” Roman smiles hungrily at her, his eyes making her feel like a piece of meat. He had just finished telling her an amusing story from patrol and she gets the impression that’s his hook, and that now he’s trying to reel her in.

“The bar’s a bit loud, though. So we should go back to mine,” There it is, the beginning of the reel. He’s looking hopeful at her, and there’s an attempt to look appealing, sexy. It doesn’t work, but Sylvie finds herself shrugging, thinking that she could do a lot worse that Sean Roman.

“Hey, Sylvie. Roman.” Before she can agree, Kim appears, seemingly out of nowhere.

The brunette is on the other side of her, her arm lightly touching her as she greets them. In a way, Kim is affectively penning Sylvie in like her partner did, but it doesn’t make her stomach twist in that same uncomfortable way. There’s some meaning to that, she knows, but she doesn’t bother to reflect on what.

“Hey, Burgess.” Roman seems irked. He’s looking at her rather rudely, and Sylvie doesn’t like that. She cares about her friends and Kim is one of her first Chicago friends who doesn’t work with her. So she grins at her a little wider then she already would, wrapping her arms around the other officer.

“Hey, Kim!” If Roman picks up on the pointedness in Sylvie’s tone, he doesn’t let on.

“Hi,” Kim smiles at her again, repeating a greeting before continuing and Sylvie must be a little more tipsy than she thought because her mind is immediately drawn to how pretty Kim looks when she smiles. “Chili had to leave early and asked me if I could drive you home instead. She said sorry, but there was a cute guy who she needed to know a bit better,”

Sylvie knows instantly that Kim is lying. Chili asked no such thing, considering she wanted to get absolutely wasted tonight and had no intention of driving herself home, let alone Sylvie. This lie is an anchor, a get out of jail card, a bailout. For who, she doesn’t know—doesn’t think that she’s too drunk to need it, but she takes it anyway.

“Oh, she promised she wouldn’t!” Sylvie goes along with the lie Kim has spun. “I’m sorry for inconveniencing you,”

“Eh. It’s no problem.” Kim shrugs her off with a wave of a hand.

“I was actually about to leave myself. I can take Brett, you can just relax. That way I can continue telling her some patrol stories,” Roman inserts himself back in the conversation but Kim has no patience for him.

“We’re partners, I can tell her the stories. C’mon, Sylvie, let’s go.” Kim gently encourages Sylvie up. There’s a disappointment at not being able to expend all this tension away, but girl code is more important, and girl code is telling her to go with Kim.

“We have to walk around the block—I don’t actually have my car, so we’ll have to call a taxi.” Kim tells her when they leave Molly’s, arms linked. Neither of them are anything more than tipsy, but Sylvie finds herself giggling at her words.

“Then why did you drag me out? Was a guy bothering you?” She asks.

“Oh, trust me, I did that for you. You’d regret that so much tomorrow. The guy’s my partner and all, but he... I was on patrol with his ex. Going there—that wouldn’t give you any sort of satisfaction.” Kim explains, and Sylvie widens her eyes, giggling again.

“Really?” The irony of Sylvie spending the evening denying that she cares about gossip saying this, leaning in with intrigue, is not lost on her.

“Jenn didn’t say anything outright but... I asked why she got engaged so quickly and she expressed that he—her fiancé—is very talented with his tongue, if you get what I mean. I inferred the rest. A man who won’t eat out his girl is not a man worth your time.” Kim says very manner of fact, and Sylvie laughs at it, the brunette joining in shortly after.

“It’s the truth!” Kim insists through her laughter. They’ve walked around the corner, now, Kim quickly dialling for a taxi through her laughs.

“My ex fiancé never did.” Sylvie confesses when their laughter died down. Kim lifts an eyebrow.

“Never?”

“Never. He said it was disgusting. Didn’t stop him wanting me to suck him, though.” Sylvie can’t help the bitter edge to her words, thinking about Harrison and thinking about how she could waste her time on him. Kim, evidently, thinks the same.

“Life is too short for those kinds of men.” Kim says. Her words are assured, confident, just a statement and Sylvie just hums in response, thinking that Kim probably never wasted years like she did.

“Hey, Sylvie. I don’t mean that like... You deserve so much better.” Kim picks up on her sudden drop of mood. “I don’t know why we lower ourselves for arses like that, but you deserve so much better. Better than people like Harrison and Roman.”

“So do you—if your exes never..?” Sylvie quickly adds on and Kim lets out a snort.

“Oh yeah. I’ve dated my fair share of arseholes.” She nods. “I don’t know why they’re like this. You’re so pretty, I don’t know how anyone could want to fuck you and not completely worship you.”

This time, Sylvie does not laugh at the bluntness of Kim’s words, instead blushing a fierce shade of pink. She was only half looking at Kim when she said those words, but now Sylvie looks at the other woman more directly. She is greeted by Kim looking at her—although, maybe staring would be more accurate. It’s an intense look, a look her friend has never given her before, a look that says that maybe Kim doesn’t want to be just her friend tonight.

It deepens Sylvie’s blush.

The air between them immediately shifts, and it feels almost so natural, Sylvie finds herself questioning whether the air always felt this thick and charged. The air is heavy, and there’s this certain kind of electricity between them; an electric energy of sorts that reminds her of when she was eighteen and her friends and her caught a ride into the nearest big town and snuck into the club—and of Sylvie waiting outside for her friends after and sharing her first—and only—kiss with a girl.

“That’s cos we’re women, though? We know what we want.” Sylvie tries to push all those thoughts aside.

Tries to ignore what she feels building in the air—because surely, it’s just in her mind? Just because she was thinking about throwing caution to the wind and having a night of passionate, explosive sex—and tries to not focus on how pretty Kim looks, how she looks like she’s the best and worst decision she could ever make wrapped up in one.

On how Kim is looking at her with such intense eyes, almost hungry eyes, eyes that says she wants to be one of those men.

“That’s not just why. I wouldn’t just eat you out until you come screaming because I’m a woman, I’d do it because I want to make you come undone at my doing—like you deserve.” Kim’s words sends pulsating throbs through her body, and she can feel herself getting turned on, her body feeling like Kim has just found the secret code to her with just her words. Sylvie stares at Kim, with shock.

“You... I... What?” Sylvie splutters, unsure of what exactly Kim is saying.

“I’m just saying. You’re hot, Brett. I can see why Roman tried.” There’s a pause. “I’m not trying to ruin our friendship. Tell me if I’m wrong, that I’m not picking up on some things and I’ll shut up and just get you home. But if I’m right, I’ll fuck you right.”

“I...” Sylvie is facing Kim dead on, now, the space between them feeling like too much, electric and heavy. It’s dark, the only light being the street lamp. But it catches the side of Kim’s face, lighting it up in such a pretty way and it stirs something deep and primal inside her.

The dark, positively hungry eyes Kim is looking at her with doesn’t help, either. It’s not like earlier, with Roman, it doesn’t make her feel like a piece of meat. It makes her feel like she’s the world’s most precious delicacy and that Kim would give her left arm just to get a taste.

“You’re right.” The words are barely out of her mouth when Kim is closing the space between them. One of her arms slips around the blonde’s waist, pulling her flush to her, the other gently resting on the bend of Sylvie’s neck as she kisses her.

Kim’s lips are soft, her touch gentle. The kiss starts off slow, although Sylvie wouldn’t have thought it with the way her body immediately responds, aching and her heart beating. But then Kim deepens the kiss, encouraging her mouth to open wider, slipping in her tongue. Sylvie responds eagerly, her arms wrapping around Kim, practically grabbing hold of her so she can return the kiss more fiercely.

If this was a preview into the abilities of Kim’s tongue, Sylvie doesn’t think that she’ll have to work her long before—to use Kim’s words—Sylvie’s coming undone at her doing.

When the taxi arrives, honking it’s horn on the two, busy kissing each other like they’re the only people in the world, the alcohol running through their veins and their and respective tiring days edging them on, making them so filled with want for this, they pull apart, out of breath, chest heaving.

They share smiles, little light-hearted giggles as they pull apart, climbing into the taxi. Kim opens the door, grabbing at Sylvie’s hand as she does so before moving swiftly out the way so she can climb in first.

They don’t make out in the taxi. They’re not even jammed up too close together, their bodies just turned towards each other. They are close enough for them to still have their hands interlocked, although it’s more like their arms at places and for their feet to lightly tap at the other’s, playing a footsy kind of game but they’re friends, they shared a taxi before, they’ve even had this ease of physical contact before.

Sylvie would almost wouldn’t be able to tell that the line between friends and lovers had been blurred for tonight, if it wasn’t for the electric energy between them, from how Sylvie’s just waiting until they can get back to hers, and how whenever Kim moves her fingers up and down her arm, gently running against her skin, it feels like little shocks.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been to yours,” Kim says as Sylvie leads her up the stairs. They’re deviating between holding hands and not, joking around as they make their way. Sometimes Kim’s spinning ahead of her, their hands dropping from their grip, and sometimes Sylvie is.

“We have only known each other a year and we have busy jobs.” Sylvie points out. Kim sticks out her tongue playfully and Sylvie has to stop herself from capturing it, and kissing Kim again. “This is me.”

Sylvie goes in first, opening her front door and placing her keys in her pot. Kim follows, and Sylvie watches as the brunette kicks off her shoes immediately, shrugging off her coat. For someone who’s never been here before, Kim fills the air with a confidence and it only fuels Sylvie’s need, her own confidence as the volcano erupts.

With a swift kick, Sylvie shuts her door and then her hands are on Kim, pulling her close. She grabs her hand, stopping her from moving further away from her, pulling her to her and capturing her lips in a kiss.

“Hm,” Kim moans against her, kissing her with a casual, yet urgent force. The melodic hum is tinted in amusement, and she pulls away briefly, to Sylvie’s disappointment. “So, we’re going straight to this? Aren’t even going to ask if I want a beer?”

Her words are said in an amused tone, but Sylvie still finds herself blushing, cursing herself slightly.

“Oh. Right. Sorry. Do you—” She’s interrupted by Kim kissing her.

“You’re so easy to tease. Don’t worry, I don’t want anything to drink. Eat, maybe.” Sylvie goes to panic again but then she sees the glint sparkling away in her eye and she blushes, getting the play on words.

“Hm, well there’s only one thing on the menu if you’re,” she pauses, “Hungry,”

Sylvie could swear that Kim licks her lips but then the brunette is kissing her again and all thoughts go out of her head, the only thing on her mind being the taste of Kim and getting her to her bedroom as soon as she can.

Neither of them are determined to disconnect from one another for long, not even in the interest in getting to her bed unscathed from injuries. Kim hits into the sofa and Sylvie nearly trips over something she left on the floor, but the two stay touching, kissing each other hungrily and needily.

Sylvie would love to say that she savoured the moment Kim took off her top, but any clothes removed is done hastily, urgently, the clothes feeling too much, too intrusive. All Sylvie can do is give Kim a quick, appreciative look over after she tosses off her top.

Although, she thinks, that could do more with that Kim then helps her get her top off, and rewards her with her lips on her neck immediately after.

“There,” Sylvie manages to gasp out, pointing at which door is her bedroom’s, as Kim pushes her up against her wall, attacking her neck, nipping and sucking at the flesh. She’s going to have a mark there tomorrow, but tonight, tonight she doesn’t care, just tilting her head aside for her to have more access, her hands just grabbing at Kim as she does so.

Despite the urgency to get this far into her apartment, Kim has apparently decided they don’t need to finish the stretch right now, focusing on kissing along her collarbone, back up along her neck and jawline, stealing kisses from her lips before heading back down. She doesn’t go too far down with her kisses, but it’s enough to send Sylvie’s mind haywire, especially when she brushes along with her teeth.

All Sylvie can do is grab at Kim’s hair, the other hand resting on her waist, running up and down her back with her nails and moan at the kisses, grasping at her. One of Sylvie’s legs loops around Kim’s in a kind of way, pulling her lower body closer to her own, in the perfect place for Sylvie to grind against, needing to alleviate some tension.

It’s only when Kim’s hand snakes away from it’s current position and runs along the waistband of her jeans, deftly undoing her button and slipping inside does Sylvie gasp, pushing at Kim slightly. Kim’s hand is still cold from the cool Chicago night air, and Sylvie can feel the cold as Kim runs her hand against the cotton of her panties, lightly brushing over her throbbing clit.

“Bedroom. Kim, bedroom,” Sylvie gasps.

“Hm. Impatient, are we?” Kim grins at her, and Sylvie can’t help comparing it to a wolf looking at it’s prey. The brunette is so sweet and kind, Sylvie never would’ve guessed that she was like this—so confident and devious—in the bedroom. Or, rather, the hallway. But Sylvie wouldn’t have it any other way.

Kim steps away from Sylvie then, and she immediately misses the warmth of her body, and her hand's presence from where it was so close to where she wants—no, needs—her. She’s going into Sylvie’s bedroom, beckoning the blonde to follow.

Sylvie is starting to rather feel like putty in Kim’s hands, and she’s never been a passive participant in her sex life—well, except when she lets men (Harrison) rule how she should be—and she’s not about to start.

She follows Kim on through, and she already has an advantage knowing the layout of her bedroom. Sylvie’s hands are on Kim again, and she’s leading, practically pushing, Kim to her bed, the brunette having no choice but to lie down on it, Sylvie immediately straddling her.

“Not a very good cop, are you?” Sylvie teases her, and when Kim goes to protest, she grinds down slightly, knowing exactly where it’ll cause friction. It has the desired effect, Kim moaning, her eyes fluttering shut slightly. Her hands are resting of Sylvie’s hips, and they go up then, stroking at the soft skin of her stomach.

“Bra, off. Now,” Kim says, running a hand along the edge of the bra. Sylvie grins wickedly at her, wondering why Kim ever thought she still had the upper hand, to doll out an order.

“Yes. That’s a good idea.” Sylvie shifts down Kim slightly, resting more weight on her own kneeled legs, allowing for Kim to sit up. The brunette clearly thinks it’s so she can help Sylvie with the bra, but Sylvie catches her hands, stopping her, and instead undoes Kim’s bra.

Sylvie’s never been intimate with a woman like this. There’s been those dreams—day dreams and actual dreams—that she spent a while trying to ignore, and thinking she’ll never act upon. But she’s never, physically, been with one and whereas her confidence has gotten her this far, she falters as Kim takes off her bra.

There’s that hesitation, that hesitation that she wants Kim—needs Kim—that this is exactly how she wants to explode tonight, but there’s that knowledge that she’s inexperienced in this, hitting her as she’s confronted with Kim’s naked chest.

“Is this too much?” Kim picks up straight away that Sylvie is having a moment, her eyebrows furrowing, turning concerned. “We can stop or just make out. Whatever you want—consent still applies with two women, y’know, and I won’t mind.”

Sylvie looks at her, Kim’s voice so gentle and caring, her big, brown eyes only filled with concerned, and something inside her throbs and Sylvie’s hesitation wears off as she realises that there’s nothing to be intimidated by, and Kim won’t mind if she has to guide her a little.

“Nah, I’m just taking your beauty in.” Sylvie jokes, before adding more seriously, “This is exactly what I want, Kim.”

“Good.” Kim smiles. “Because I’m feeling that we should even things here.”

Sylvie should’ve know that Kim would take off her bra as soon as she could, the brunette raking her eyes greedily over her body. She grabs at Sylvie’s thighs, positioning her in a way that she can sit on her and they can kiss with ease.

Kim doesn’t spend long kissing her lips before she’s travelling again, her fingers gently tracing patterns on her back as she kisses down her neck, collarbone, going between kisses and nips. Sylvie tries to adjust herself so that she can kiss the dip of Kim’s shoulder as she does so, but Kim tries her hardest to stop any attempts, not wanting to be restricted in her own explorations.

When Kim’s mouth gets to her chest, she pauses. Sylvie has barely any time to wonder what will happen next when Kim’s hand is palming one breast, making her gasp in surprise. The brunette lifts her mouth from her body, instead taking advantage of her agape mouth, kissing her deep. And then she’s moving them, laying Sylvie down, shifting who’s winning this lustful game of cat and mouse they’re playing.

Kim doesn’t straddle her like Sylvie did earlier, just making them vertical, Kim between her legs. She’s squeezing her breast again, and then her mouth is around the other’s nipple, rolling her tongue around it, and Sylvie lets out a loud moan she’d almost be embarrassed about if it didn’t feel so good. Kim works her like this for god knows how long before switching.

And then Kim is once again pulling away and Sylvie pouts, to Kim’s amusement.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Kim coos at her. “I’m just taking off your jeans so I can fuck you with my mouth.”

Sylvie never knew hearing Kim swear could sound so hot.

“Your jeans too. I was you as naked as I am,” She doesn’t know how she still has brain power to compose thoughts, focused so much on the needy ache in her body.

Kim steps off the bed so that she can shimmy off her jeans. Her panties match the bra she was wearing and Sylvie couldn’t even describe how much that made her desire spike. She wonders if Kim was working today and if she changed before going to Molly’s—curious to know if Kim wore such lacy stuff to work.

Surely not? Sylvie sure as hell doesn’t, let alone wearing a matching set.

“Like what you see?” Kim flirts before climbing back onto the bed, immediately getting to work on helping Sylvie get off her own jeans. There’s a moment when they’re off that Sylvie gets momentarily self conscious of her near-naked body, but then Kim’s running a finger along her panties again, pressing down on her clit through the fabric.

The sound it elicits from her is a mix between a gasp, moan and whine.

“Kim,” Sylvie practically begs as she releases the pressure, resuming to gentle barely there strokes as she returns her mouth to her breasts, collarbone and neck. Kim seems to get the message because then she’s—with skill that makes Sylvie wonder just how many times Kim has done this—hooking her fingers around her panties and taking them off.

She doesn’t hesitate to resume her actions, now without the fabric in the way. Kim dips a finger inside her, her thumb brushing against her clit with differentiating levels of pressure and Sylvie can’t help but shut her eyes and moan at the sensation, Kim working her with her talented fingers.

“You’re so wet,” Kim whispers into her ear, nibbling against her jawline before adding another finger. She laughs hotly against her as Sylvie tightens, squeezing Kim’s fingers. She’s just about used to the feeling, and the motions, a pressure inside her building, but then Kim’s pulling them out and she’s whining.

And then Kim’s pulling away from her, and Sylvie just about opens her eyes, lifting up her head, in time to see down her body, looking devilishly. And then Kim’s licking her and it’s everything she’s wanted, needed, and her head is falling back down. Kim works her with her mouth, and all Sylvie can think is about how indeed, Kim is mightily skilled with her tongue.

The tension in Sylvie builds quickly, fast approaching her orgasm, Kim lapping at her and using her fingers to add that extra sensation, rubbing and pinching, alternating between making she’s in place and fondling her breasts and Sylvie’s gripping at her covers, gasping and whining as she writhes, overwhelmed at the sensations.

All thoughts have left her mind, and all Sylvie can focus on is the quick approaching climax, not caring about how lost in it she must be—not caring how loud she’s being, how unfiltered and uncontrolled she is, just focused on how good Kim is making her feel.

And then she reaches her climax, Kim is taking her over and she gets her wish—it’s everything Sylvie has needed, and she screams, full of ecstasy, her body overcome with sensation, toes curling as she comes around Kim’s tongue, the brunette continuing to lap at her, guiding her through her orgasm.

“That...” Sylvie pants as soon as she can. “That—exactly what I needed.”

It’s not perfect grammar, but she thinks Kim gets it, if how she smiles and moves so she’s cuddling against Sylvie, is any indication.

#kim burgess #sylvie brett #chicago pd #Chicago fire #kim burgess x sylvie brett #Chicago pd fanfiction #Chicago fire fanfiction #ree writes #ree's.writing #ree.smut #ree.wlw

[moonbeambucky]

Hey Neighbor (Part 23)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Peter Quill x Reader Word Count: 3787 Warnings: fluff, light angst

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: Sorry for the delay but it’s here now, I hope you enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated!

HEY NEIGHBOR PART 22 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

It was hard to come to the realization that Bucky did want a relationship but you didn’t cut it. The weekend at the wedding was a test and you failed. You may have gotten high scores but obviously there was something about Claire that made her better than you. You’ve known Bucky for almost a year but in one date she was able to capture his heart in a way you never could.

The truth sits in your stomach like a rock, feeling the pain each time you move. It’s a boulder tied to your leg and you’re drowning but Peter cuts the rope, with soft gazes and a tender touch, sweet words and sweet sounds he pulls from you as you’re tangled together in bed.

You let go, let yourself be pulled into a bright world where Peter is waiting, because he actually wants you. There is no test. No competition with the exception of Groot. Even Rocket warmed up to you, the temperamental animal preferring to cuddle up in your lap over Peter’s. There was light now that the sea was no longer about to swallow you whole.

The group chat would still go off with messages about plans but you chose not to attend, taking the time to be alone with Peter or hang out with his friends. Drax was a fellow firefighter, a burly man, bald as an egg and covered in tattoos. Thor was a firefighter too, tall with cropped blond hair and biceps bigger than your head and then there was Gamora, the first friend Peter made when he moved to the city. And by friend you think he meant girlfriend though they have more of a platonic relationship now. She was effortlessly beautiful with rich brown eyes and hair, with the ends dyed a bright magenta that complimented the warmth of her skin.

It was nice to hang out with different people and it opened you up to seeing a new side of Peter when he was with his friends. Sometimes he was the Peter you knew, lighthearted and playful, teasing Drax for being too serious to understand a joke, other times Drax would make fun of him; a booming cackle coming from deep in his belly as he laughed at Peter’s expense. Most of the time Gamora would roll her eyes, calling them both idiots.

Thor did his fair share of teasing too although much less now that he was transferred to a new station. It’s probably for the best considering how often he and Peter seem to be in competition with each other though it’s all friendly underneath and you could tell how close everybody was.

They acted like a family and quickly accepted you as a part of theirs but your heart ached behind your smile, missing your own family. Steve who was like a brother to you, Wanda your sister, Peggy the mom of the group who was always there to care and comfort you if you were hurt, and Natasha the other mom that struck fear into the hearts of anyone who would dare hurt her family. Sam and Clint were the troublemakers and then there was Bucky.

You couldn’t think of how to describe him when you didn’t know what was real anymore. The Bucky that exists today is not the person you first knew; the man that was passionate about his music but apologized the moment he realized he was inconveniencing you. He didn’t have to do that. He could have been your asshole neighbor but instead he became a friend.

Peter takes your hand, jolting you from your thoughts as he pulls you off the couch to dance to “Come and Get Your Love.” It’s a fun distraction and you allow yourself to enjoy being swept up by it and surrounded by Peter’s affection.

Groot became accustomed to seeing you in Peter’s apartment, giving you a big greeting as you came over for dinner after a long day of work. Peter was able to steal a kiss before the big dog demanded more of your attention.

“Babe, can I use your laptop?” you asked, kneeling down to rub Groot’s stomach, hitting the spot that made his leg twitch.

Peter stepped away from the stove, wiping his hands quickly on a towel before getting his laptop from the bedroom. With Groot satisfied by his tummy rubs you were free to say hi to Rocket though he was sleeping.

“Here you go,” Peter said, handing you the laptop and leaning in for a better greeting. His tongue slipped past your lips as he deepened the kiss, pulling away when the hiss of boiling water splashed against the flames.

You set the laptop down on his table, bouncing your leg as you opened the cover and waited for it to load. Commencement was next month and you hadn’t applied for graduation yet. An email reminder you got earlier today sent you into a panic as the deadline was coming up.

It was not like you to forget something as important as this. Sure, there’s been a lot going on in the last month but there is no excuse to have let this slip your mind. You’re eager to take care of it right away, ready to log on to your school’s website but the last page Peter browsed was still up and it made your jaw drop.

“Oh my god Peter!” You flipped the laptop around to face him as he craned his head back. “What is this?” you asked, bursting with laughter.

Peter bloomed red like a rose, eyes going wide as he laughed, “Oh shit, sorry!”

The Sex Files, a threesome with an Agent Mulder-esque man having sex with two alien women, a busty brunette painted dragon fruit pink and the other a slim redhead with Wicked Witch green skin.

“Aliens, really?” You raised a brow questioning him with a smirk.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, slightly embarrassed. “It was on the main page. I gave it a chance,” he shrugged, chuckling.

You shook your head laughing, opening up a new tab so you could finally submit your graduation application. As Peter finished preparing dinner you ordered your cap and gown, smiling a little wider when you saw the citron hood, a symbol of all the hard work you’ve put in towards your Master’s degree.

Over dinner you teased Peter a little more about his video. “It’s fine if you’re into that but you won’t catch me painting my skin. Do you know how messy that would be?”

“You might as well. If I had a black light, I bet this place would already look like a Jackson Pollock painting.”

Groot lifted his head at your loud burst of laughter, playfully shoving Peter’s arm. You wouldn’t be lying if you said his joke was still on your mind later that night, lying together in his bed after having just added to the invisible art.

Hot sticky skin against each other’s, the sheets lightly draped over you as the mugginess of the air settled in the room. Your eyes closed languidly, watching the rise and fall of Peter’s chest as you drifted to sleep.

The sun blazes on the street of a sweltering Sunday morning as you walk towards your destination, wiping the sweat from your brow as you huff down into the seat beside Natasha and Wanda whose hair were nearly identical now though Wanda’s had a more fiery copper tone. A tiny smile pulls at your lips when you see mimosa flutes already on the table; now it was officially time for brunch.

You apologize for not seeing them as much lately and thankfully they understood. Wanda was practically inseparable from Sam when they first started dating so she definitely didn’t blame you, although she still thought you were making a mistake.

Bucky was in the back of your mind though you did your best to ignore the fact that you were at the same place you met Wanda almost a full year ago to complain about your new neighbor. So many things have changed but obviously it’s for the better.

“So…” Natasha said with an enticing tone in her voice. She wiped crumbs off of her lips, a faded cherry red from the lipstick that still clung to them. “I have big news.”

“You’ve set a date!” “You’re pregnant!” You and Wanda spoke at the same time, waiting with anticipation to see who was right.

“No,” Natasha laughed. “I made partner!”

“Congratulations, that’s amazing!” you said, leaning over to hug her.

Wanda followed suit and as you sat back down you kept your lips pressed tightly together, eyes widening as Natasha raised a brow to question Wanda about her guess. She sunk back into her seat, clenching her teeth with embarrassment but Natasha was only kidding (or maybe she wasn’t, sometimes you couldn’t tell.)

“Clint and I are going to throw a party once it’s official, nothing big. Y/N is it okay if I invite Bucky?”

Natasha’s turned towards you, holding your gaze with compassion overflowing in the depths of her eyes. She knew what happened between you and Bucky. Whether someone told her or she put it together herself, the latter most likely, it didn’t matter. She knew. She knew and she wasn’t looking to force a resolution but to make sure that you as her friend would be comfortable being around Bucky. You assumed she realized you weren’t only spending time with Peter because of your new relationship but still Natasha didn’t question your actions. She waited patiently, a soft smile on her pillowy lips until you gave an answer.

“Of course Tash, you can invite Bucky.” Wanda started to look as green as her avocado toast as she gave you a worried stare. “I promise, I don’t have a problem with him.”

No one questioned your answer despite the opinions they held back silently and the rest of brunch was spent playing catch up since Steve’s birthday. You hadn’t really missed much, Clint was sleeping until noon most days, Steve was still growing in his beard, Bucky was… still with Claire. Yeah. You figured. You may have checked her Instagram again, seeing a picture of two coffee orders tagged at The Grind House.

After leaving the girls you went home with a seed of anxiety planted in your stomach, knowing it will grow larger every day until Natasha’s party where you would have to see Bucky and Claire again. You wanted to get this over with, rip the band aid off and see them but sometimes life liked to mess with you. Natasha’s party wouldn’t be until the following weekend because this weekend she and Clint were going to Vermont so he could participate in an amateur archery tournament.

You try your best not to focus on the countdown until the party despite the sequoia sized tree of anxiety, each limb a different scenario playing out in your mind of all the terrible things that could happen. It didn’t help that this was your last week at Metro-General as the semester was over. While you were thrilled to have finally finished your hours leaving Elena made you emotional.

This was the end of a long journey, a ride you never expected to be on for so long but now it was over; this is the end of the line and part of you doesn’t want to get off the train. Your legs are atrophied from being in the same spot, Stark Industries, Metro-General, soon it would be time to walk away from both but you’re not sure you remember how. The real world is scary and your doubts and fears are starting to take over.

On the Monday before the party there’s a knock on your door and all you can do is smile. You’ve expressed to Peter just how anxious you are about actually achieving your dream. He comforted you, reminding you there was nothing to worry about and to cheer up. Peter always knew how to bring out your smile and you suspect he’s orchestrated another flower delivery for you. A pre-graduation congratulations of sorts, something to lift your spirits and get your mind back on track to where it needs to be.

You open the door without looking, expecting to see a grand bouquet, or even courier holding balloons but instead there was Bucky. You felt the tree twist within your body, growing to an enormous scale. Your eyes catch sight of an item in his hand, a hanger wrapped in plastic and beneath it the dress you wore to the wedding.

“Hey nei– ” He cleared his throat, speaking your name instead after watching the way your whole body dropped at the sight of him, from the smile that faded to the slouch of your shoulders. “I needed to get my suit dry cleaned and I forgot about this. I got it dry cleaned too so, uh… don’t worry about it.”

He rambled a bit, nervous, handing the dress to you.

“Thanks.” You said, biting back the nauseous feeling that crept its way up your throat.

“Going to Nat’s party?” he asked, hoping small talk would open the door to a real conversation.

Yes, I was friends with them first. “Yeah.” The curtness stayed in your mind only though your short answer wasn’t any friendlier.

Bucky nodded his head, “Kay… cool,” he said, with an uneasy tone that tried to pass itself off as calm. “See ya there.”

You smiled with tension, shutting your door. Tears were burning in your eyes, falling down your cheek as you jolted at the sound of his door slamming beside yours. Your dress was tossed to the side as you ran into the bathroom, running the water in the shower to mask the sound of your body heaving over the toilet. Bile burned up your throat, hot tears streaked down your cheeks and your heart felt like it was being torn apart by wolves.  

Avoiding Bucky didn’t help you get over him, and seeing him now, clutching your dress… a painful reminder of the weekend you spent together made it all worse. You wanted to call Wanda, to cry in her arms again, or Steve or even Val, to get drunk with and forget this ever happened. But you couldn’t call anyone. You couldn’t do anything but sink onto the cool tile floor of the bathroom, wishing you never met Bucky, sorry that he ever moved next door in the first place. You cried until there was nothing left to give.  

Now that you were done with your internship you were back at Stark Industries full time, devoting your days to The September Foundation, and helping coordinate a guest list for the opening gala. It was a lot of work that kept your mind very occupied so when it was time for Natasha’s party you were feeling better.

Better but not great.

Every time you glanced over at Claire’s arm looping through Bucky’s you felt weak and gripped Peter with a tighter hold. Each time he would lean down to kiss your temple, to hug you, hold you, show affection in any way while being ignorant of the real meaning behind your touch.

Claire waved her hand in front of Bucky’s eyes, having apparently been calling out to him though he didn’t hear it. He was caught up in his thoughts, lost in a tunnel that plunged him further into darkness every time Peter caressed your sweet skin.

He apologized, snapping himself back, taking note of the concern held in Claire’s eyes. He forced his muscles to fake a smile but it was useless, just as he tried to force the emotion that was absent in their kiss. Does Claire feel it too? It’s been that way for a while, empty actions, going through the motions so Bucky can continue to convince himself that something is there but he can’t do it anymore.

The next day he breaks up with Claire and it isn’t a surprise. They part on amicable terms and while Bucky should feel better he doesn’t. You’re still with Peter, and it was his stupidity that sent you straight into his arms.

Claire was supposed to be something special, that relationship he had been longing for but instead she was just a distraction, a voice to occupy his mind, a warm body to keep him company, but none of it worked. Her voice was nails on a chalkboard compared to yours, her body a pair of dice thrown across a half empty puzzle; it wasn’t a match, she wasn’t you.

Now it’s Bucky’s turn to avoid you, staying quiet in his apartment, taking the stairs so he didn’t have to chance meeting you in the elevator. He can’t handle it. He walks quickly past your door, his heart wrenching every time he’s forced to think of you, remembering what he lost.

Emptiness creeps in like a fog, loneliness settles in the empty cavern of his heart, without you life has lost its rhythm.

It’s late in the day when you receive an email from your school that sends you reeling. You couldn’t graduate. You thought it was a mistake, it had to be! There was no way this was correct.

Shaking fingers dialed the school as shaky hands stumbled across the keyboard, logging into your records and double checking that every class you’ve taken over the years is complete with a grade, and then you saw it. Your internship. INCOMPLETE.

Upon the school’s review you didn’t have enough hours, which is impossible because you have been busting your ass since the Fall semester to do this. You planned it, calculated every day, every hour and yet somehow you were wrong.

Your voice cracked as you begged for a resolution, bawling to the person over the phone that you’re thankful can’t see the way tears and snot are streaming down your face, sorry for the fact that they have to hear the way you loudly blow your nose into the phone.

By the end of the conversation you have a plan but it isn’t one that you like. You can walk for commencement next week but you would have to make up the hours and won’t receive your diploma until December.

You cleaned your face, barely, hoping to avoid everyone as you made your way down to Steve’s desk. You broke the moment you saw him, trying to keep your composure as best as you could until he was ready to leave.

Steve was devastated for you as was Wanda when you spoke to her that night. Natasha was already looking into your school’s policies to see if there was any legal recourse. “We can prove negligence on their behalf by failing to communicate in a timely manner to you the student that you did not meet the necessary requirements for graduation, therefore breaching their contractual obligation to provide adequate course guidance in accordance with…”

She went on with more legal jargon before you stopped her. “No, Nat this is my fault. It was my responsibility to calculate my hours. Would it have been nice to have an accurate figure to go off of? Sure, but I was the one who should have double checked. If I went in for an audit I would have known exactly how many hours I needed to get complete before the deadline.”

Natasha let out a sigh of frustration, wishing there was something more she could have done. Instead she let you lean against her, curled up on her couch as Clint prepared a giant bowl of ice cream topped with whipped cream, M&Ms and chocolate syrup.

“Thanks guys, I really appreciate this,” you sniffled, wiping a stray tear away.

It was nice to have your friends around for the night considering Peter was working. You could have texted him about this but chose not to. His shifts are long and stressful as it is and you didn’t want to add to whatever might already be on his mind.

But the next day you went to his apartment after work, somberly dragging yourself in through the door. Groot was able to put a smile on your face, and Rocket too, sticking his little hand out to try and unlock his cage upon hearing your voice but it wasn’t enough to stop the tears.

You took Peter by surprise as you wrapped your arms around him, soaking through his shirt as you cried. He held you close, stroking your hair gently as he whispered, “It’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay.”

Peter walked you to the couch, his thumb softly wiping away tears, squeezing your hand in his as he waited for you to let him know what was going on. And when you did he let out a sigh of relief. “You scared me so much. I thought something bad happened.”

You were taken aback by his reaction, confused for a moment because maybe in your tear riddled conversation the truth about what happened got lost.

“Peter, I can’t graduate. I have to wait until December.”

“Right but you’re going to graduate. You can still go to commencement and all you have to do is make up the hours right? Did you talk to Elena?”

Of course you spoke to Elena, she was sorry to hear about what happened and is going to work something out with you but that wasn’t the point.

“Peter, I don’t think you understand what this means to me. One of my best friends died from a situation that could have been prevented if a social worker was involved. Ever since then my only goal in life was to become a social worker, to never let something like that happen again. And now I have to wait four months to graduate, four months before I can apply for jobs and go on interviews.”

“It’s just four months.”

Whatever Peter said after you didn’t hear. Everything was white noise as four simple words destroyed your soul. How could he not understand? It doesn’t matter that you will be able to make up your hours (which you will), it doesn’t matter that you are allowed to walk for commencement next week (which you won’t because it isn’t real). What mattered was that after all this time, all of your hard work, the sacrifices you’ve made, working full time while you were in school, exhausting yourself to the bone with your internship, that none of it was enough and you still have to wait. It isn’t just four months, it's a painful setback for your dreams.

Peter doesn’t get it.

Bucky got it...

PART 24

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #peter quill x reader

[jjungkookislife]

Puppy love ║ kth ║ part six: I-I can explain

dog dad!Taehyung x dog groomer!yn

wc: 2k

warnings: cursing, fboy!kook, strained sibling relationship mentions, implications of aroused!kook

a/n: writing in between screenshots

Yoonji sighed, shaking her head as she closed her app.  She didn’t want to be too bummed out over a cute guy she didn’t know, but she wasn’t willing to put her heart on the line if it didn’t work out.  She’d rather feel this slight ache now than a major heartbreak later.  

You were bubbling with excitement as the minutes ticked by and you finished wiping the counter.  You’d be off the clock and able to see Yoonji, Jimin and Yoongi at Kim’s.  

“Finally!” You exclaim as you flip the sign on the front door from ‘Open’ to ‘Closed’.  You lock the door before stepping out of the building and straight to your car, hoping nobody stops you to ask for an appointment.  

The second you’re behind the wheel and adjusting your seatbelt, your phone goes off with messages.  You pause, taking your phone out of your bag to check it before you drive off.

You were apprehensive to meet more of Yoongi and Jimin’s friends, not knowing how their personality would mesh with yours.  If you had met them one at a time, like you had with Hoseok, it would be easier on you.  You felt overwhelmed but quickly remembered Yoonji would be there as well and she’d be meeting his friends for the first time. 

The Min twins hadn’t been this close until the past year.  They both had a hard time finding themselves, feeling like they were in each other’s shadow.  That all changed when Yoonji went to school in Busan.  There, nobody knew her as Yoongi’s twin but as just Yoonji.  She liked that, thrived in it and for the first time in her life, she felt like she could be herself and not her brother’s shadow.  

You admired her growth, glad that her self-discovery had made her more confident in herself, and yet she remained your best friend.  The twins were just now melding their friendship, wanting to get back that closeness that they had lost before.  It took effort on both their parts, but Yoonji meeting the rest of Yoongi and Jimin’s friends was a big deal.  The two often kept their worlds separate, but that couldn’t be helped when you were best friends with Yoonji and Jimin, thus bringing in Yoongi into the equation.  

You loved Yoongi though, how could you not?  He was sweet and gentle but wasn’t scared to be honest with you.  He was loyal, immensely talented, and cared about you deeply simply because you were a friend.  

You valued all of their friendships, and you wanted to be able to have fun tonight and put in your best effort in meeting his friends; no matter how nervous it made you.  You found peace knowing Yoongi wouldn’t keep bad company, and with that thought on your mind, you changed your outfit and waltzed out the door to meet your friends. 

Taehyung walked Tannie to the park, holding his leash as Tannie sniffed the surrounding ground.  

Tae wanted to meet up with his friends, but he was in one of those moods where he just wasn’t up to socializing.  He knew if he’d told his friends the truth, they’d understand, but he wasn’t one to make them worry.  Instead, he decided to clear his head by going on a walk with his dog at the park.  He figured the fresh air and Tannie’s excitement would be enough for him to relax and hopefully get out of this mood that weighed heavily on his heart. 

Yoonji was waiting for you outside the restaurant as you walked up. Her face lit up, and she wrapped her arms around you so tight you thought she’d squeeze you out of your dress. 

“I can’t breathe,” you manage to say as you try to hug her back while taking a breath when she eases up on her grip. 

“Sorry!” She’s quick to apologize.  “I’ve missed you!”

“I missed you too!  I hope you weren’t out here too long.” You state, hoping you hadn’t inconvenienced her. 

“Just a minute or two.  Jimin and Yoongi went to greet their friend. Apparently it’s his place.  Or one of them, I should say.”  Yoonji informed you as the two of you walk into the crowded restaurant. 

“Oh? Wow!”  You take in the atmosphere as Yoonji leads you to the back of the restaurant where there’s a large table set up and Yoongi and Jimin wait for the both of you.  You sit beside Jimin, and beside you sits Yoonji, leaving the seat to her left empty.  

“You made it,” Jimin says as he hugs you, kissing your cheek. 

“We’re all back together again,” you grin as you feel slightly at ease to be surrounded by your friends. 

A few minutes after catching up briefly, there’s a loud group entering the restaurant.  It catches your attention and Yoonji’s head whips around to face her brother; a scowl on her face.  

“You didn’t tell me he was coming!”  She hisses at her brother, who shrugs. 

“I didn’t know til last minute.  Taehyung isn’t coming though,” Yoongi says as he grabs his drink and the group of men come closer.  

Jungkook’s eyes widen as he spots Yoonji, looking away, only to realize his friends have filled the remaining seats and the only spot empty is beside her.

Yoonji puts her hand on your thigh, silently asking you what to do.  She had filled you in on her last conversation with him just a few hours ago and you knew the last thing she wanted was to be in the same place as him, much less sitting beside him.  

“Hey guys!” Jimin chirps with a grin and a wave.  Everyone says hi before they’re all staring at you and Yoonji.  Jungkook stares at his lap, his cheeks pink.  

“This is my sister Yoonji and our friend Y/n.”

You wave.  

Namjoon smiles, “so you’re the girl Tae-“

Hoseok elbows him.

You raise your brow, confused.

“The girl he takes his dog too.” Namjoon finishes lamely.  

You nod, “he’s Tannie’s dad?”

“He’ll be bummed he didn’t come tonight,” Seokjin appears with a smile, extending his hand out for you and Yoonji to shake.  

“It’s a pleasure to meet you and Yoonji.  We’ve heard so much about you two.”

“Wish we could say the same,” Yoonji states, glaring at her brother.  Yoongi sighs, “you’ll be fine.  Plus, you’ve got Y/n right there.”

“Y/n?” Jungkook speaks for the first time.  You nodded.  

Jungkook furrows his brows before looking at Hoseok, “isn’t that your girlfriend’s name too?”

Hoseok nods and Jungkook licks his lips, “weird.”

“Ignore him, he doesn’t get out much,” Namjoon says as he pats the seat beside him for Seokjin to sit down for a second.  

“That’s not what I heard,” Yoonji mumbles loud enough for you and Jungkook to hear.  Jungkook’s cheeks turn red along with his ears.  He coughs uncomfortably before he excuses himself. 

“Yoonji!” You hiss the moment he’s gone.  

“What? It’s true.”

You know you won’t get anywhere with her, so you turn to Jimin and talk to him instead.  You didn’t care for rude people, and if Yoonji was going to treat Jungkook like this all night; you wanted no part in it.  Yoonji knew that, so she too, excused herself.  

“I wish Tae had come,” Jimin sighs as you finished the last of your dessert.  

“I’d like to meet him properly sometime.  I like all your friends, even Jungkook that’s been hiding most of the night.”

Jimin chuckles, “he’s not a bad guy, honest.  He just likes to fuck, which isn’t a bad thing, but he’s got a reputation that makes him seem like a fuckboy.  He’s always up front about his intentions.  He never lies to any of his partners about what he wants.”

You nod in understanding.  Jimin plays with the straw in his glass, “however, I’m not messing with Yoonji and Jungkook.  If they like each other or they just want to fuck, they can figure it out on their own.  They’re both adults, and frankly, it’s none of my business where Jungkook puts his dick.”

“Better not be in Yoonji,” Yoongi huffs, but Jimin rolls his eyes and silences him with a kiss. 

“Let her do what she wants.  She knows what’s best for her.”

“I know,” Yoongi sighs dejectedly, curling into his boyfriend's side.  “I just worry about her…”

“She can handle her own.  Come on, let’s go see where she ran off too so we can get you home.”  Jimin helps Yoongi up and you rise from your seat to follow them. 

You linger at the front door, noting the sun is long gone and the darkness of the night has overwhelmed the sky.  You look down the street, giggling when you see a couple kissing quite passionately.  Hands moving up and down the woman’s body while her hands grip the collar of his button-down shirt.  The rest of his shirt is half pulled out of his tight jeans and when his hand comes up to cup her face, you see the tattoos on his hands.  

“Is that Yoonji and Jungkook?!” You gasp, attracting your friends’ attention, now joined by Hoseok and Namjoon.  

“Son of a bitch,” Namjoon huffs, placing a $20 bill in Hoseok’s open palm. 

“I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist her,” Hoseok grins as he pockets the money.  Yoongi shoves them both.  

“When did that happen?” Jimin asks, blinking and rubbing his eyes to make sure he’s seeing correctly.  “She hated him at dinner.”

“And now his tongue is down her throat,” Seokjin chuckles as he joins the group.  

“So who’s gonna go get her?” You ask as you say ‘not it’ right after.  

Unfortunately, Jimin loses and ends up walking toward them, looking over his shoulder every few steps to pout.  He taps Jungkook on the shoulder to get his attention, knowing Yoonji would bite his finger off.  

You can’t hear what he’s saying to them, but when he turns and points at the sizable group, you wave.  Yoonji crosses her arms, shaking her hair out of her face and straightening her outfit.  

She looks at Jungkook, biting her lip.  Jungkook swallows thickly, adjusting his shirt but not tucking it back into his pants.  Jimin shrugs, walking away from them before rejoining the group. 

“What happened?” Hoseok asks when Jimin doesn’t immediately spill. 

“Jungkook is gonna walk her home.  Come on, Min Twin,” Jimin grabs his boyfriend’s hand and leads him away.  You hesitate, taking your phone out to call Yoonji, who is still talking to Jungkook.  

She answers immediately, looking at you. 

“Are you sure you want him to walk you home? I can take you,” you state.  

“Uh… yeah.   It’s not too far from here.  Don’t worry, I’ll text you when I get there.”  Yoonji hangs up, and you receive a text from her with Jungkook’s phone number just in case. 

You nod, waving at the rest of the boys before you get into your car.  They wait for you to drive off before they go their separate ways.  

Taehyung lies on the couch when he gets home, and that’s where Jungkook finds him an hour later after leaving with Yoonji. 

“How was the park?” He asks tentatively. 

Taehyung shrugs, “fine.”

“You missed meeting Y/n.” 

“I’ve met Hoseok’s girlfriend ,” Taehyung answers as he calls for Tannie.  The pup comes running, jumping onto his chest. 

Jungkook rolls his eyes, “no.  Y/n, as in your dream girl Y/n.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen as he sits up with Tannie in his arms, “she was there?!  The love of my life was there?!”

Jungkook nods

“And YOU got to meet her before me?!”

Again, Jungkook nods. 

“That’s not fair!  I didn’t even get her name, and you got to spend time with her and get her name?”

“We told you to go with us,” Jungkook shrugs as he yawns.  Taehyung finally noticed his friend's disheveled appearance. 

“What happened to you?”

“I… met Yoonji.” Jungkook blushes as he unbuttons his shirt.  Pink marks litter his neck and chest. 

“Some meeting,” Tae whistles as Jungkook runs the nape of his neck. 

“Yeah… we’re going out tomorrow.  I’m excited,” Jungkook admits.  Taehyung is glad for his friend. He knew his interest in Yoonji was bigger than anyone else he had ever met, and after she had rejected him, he had been feeling down.  He hopes the date goes well, he likes seeing Jungkook happy.  

puppy love ║ kth

part six: I-I can explain

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masterlist

#puppy love smau #puppy love social media au #taehyung smau #bts social media au #bts smau #taehyung social media au #bts kim taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #taehyung x yn #bts fake texts #taehyung fake texts #namjin au #yoonmin au #yoonji

[be11atrixthestrange]

Step 9: Making Plans

From 12 Fail-Safe Ways To Charm Hermione Granger

Making Plans

A successful relationship means aligning your future. It's important to include one another in decisions, communicate your goals clearly, and remember your choices will affect your partner. Moving the relationship forward is a joint effort, and clear communication will make clear plans, and help manage the unexpected.

*****

If Ron could pinpoint one major difference between himself and Hermione, it would be this: Hermione was a planner, and Ron was not. During their school years, Ron frequently relied on Hermione's revising schedules before exams, or at least he tried to before inevitably entering examination rooms at least somewhat unprepared. During the horcrux hunt, he figured the best way to do something was just to do it, and he felt that Hermione's strategizing slowed them down quite a bit. They ended up going into the battle of Hogwarts without a plan, and everything (for the most part) worked out just fine— nothing that planning more would have fixed.

More recently, Hermione made an itinerary for a vacation to Italy. They managed to sync time off from their busy schedules, and Ron was ecstatic about some free time in a new country that he'd never been to before. Then he saw Hermione's hour by hour schedule for the week, and suddenly, their holiday felt like another busy week at work. She had spreadsheets— some barmy muggle organizing systems— to keep track of their shared finances and bills, and she planned each purchase before she made it. She meal-prepped, and bought groceries accordingly. She even had a system for apartment chores— the kitchen was always cleaned on Sundays and laundry was done on Saturdays, and if Ron shook it up it caused a domino effect that he couldn't even begin to predict.

He loosened her up quite a bit though. After seeing their Italy itinerary, he encouraged her to cross out half of it, and just wing it. She obliged, but not without scowling, and as a result, they discovered new corners of wizarding Italy that they would never have found in guidebooks, because Ron met the right person in a bar. When she got her end of year bonus at work, he encouraged her not to save all of it, just be a little bit irresponsible for once, and he came home to find that floor to ceiling bookshelves now lined the walls of their sunroom, filled to the brim with new, crisp, untapped stories. There were those nights when Ron convinced her to dress up and dine out with him even when she'd already made a plan for dinner. She might act inconvenienced at first, but there was always a gleam in her eye when she donned that fancy dress that never got worn, and they split not one, but two bottles of wine and ordered food they couldn't even pronounce. And of course, their home was usually spotless thanks to the chore schedule she'd made for them, but Ron liked it best when the laundry piled up a little, and dishes were left in the sink, and they distracted each other enough not to care.

Hermione begrudgingly agreed that she could let go and life happen every now and then, and Ron was quite good at adding a little bit of the unexpected into their relationship. And ultimately, Ron respected her commitment to planning, and admitted more of it would serve him well. That's why the next day would test both of them.

On their date tomorrow, Ron was going to ask her to marry him. He had it all planned out, down to every detail. The entire day was scheduled for them, just how she liked it. But the best part of the plan was that she was not expecting it at all.

They'd discussed it of course— he was quite confident she'd say yes. He wouldn't dare ask her otherwise.

Their discussions of marriage had evolved over the last few years. The first time he brought it up was after one year of living together. Ron figured that was enough time together, and engagement seemed like a logical next step for them.

He didn't propose to her, he simply asked her what she'd say if he did. It took him quite a bit of courage to ask her that, and unfortunately, her answer was not one Ron wanted, nor expected. Between "it's too soon" and "not enough time together" and "way too young" he regretted asking.

Granted, he didn't bring it up in an ideal manner. It was after a Friday night at the bar with Harry, Dean, Neville, and Seamus, and Ron hadn't exactly demonstrated the most mature version of himself. They were both drunk upon their return home, so his slurred inquiry fell upon the most stubborn, uninhibited, and emotional side of Hermione. Ron, who was slightly hurt by her response, reluctantly put the subject to rest.

He brought it up two years later at her cousin's wedding. Holly— Ellie's younger sister, who bore a striking resemblance to Hermione— wore a beautiful white dress that Ron couldn't help but picture on Hermione. He danced with her all evening, similar to the way they danced at his own brother's wedding years prior.

"Holly's dress is beautiful, isn't it?" she asked him.

Ron nodded against her head as they swayed on the dance floor. "It would look better on you." He braced himself for an unfavorable response. He was afraid she'd react the way she did that first time, but she needed to know it was on his mind. "I'd love to see you in a wedding dress someday, Hermione."

His heart was pounding, and his ears grew warmer, but he relaxed a little when she settled more heavily against him. "Someday, you will."

Not even a flock of canaries could have wiped the goofy grin from his face.

A year after that, Harry proposed to Ginny. Hermione was her maid of honor, and as expected, she jumped whole-heartedly into planning. The combination of Hermione's immaculate organization skills, Ginny's creativity, and Harry's money made their wedding one of the most fun and extravagant events Ron had ever been to.

Ron remembered waking up next to her the morning after. The periwinkle bridesmaid dress Ginny had chosen for her looked even better crumpled up on the floor beside their bed, and she'd never been more gorgeous with her matted hair and smeared makeup. They felt like hell— both had taken advantage of the open bar after fulfilling their wedding party duties, and neither could remember apparating back to their bedroom, but no one was splinched, and that's what mattered.

"Well, that was something," said Ron, recalling the blurry details of the night before. The live band, the five-course meal, the chocolate fountain, and Harry and Ginny's mystery cocktails made for the most memorable night that they couldn't recall.

"Is it bad that I'm glad it's over?" Hermione asked groggily.

Ron laughed. "No. It was a lot of work."

"Tell me about it," she said turning toward him. "When we get married, let's do something simple."

Ron was quite taken aback by how casually she mentioned this future wedding he'd heard nothing about. "When, or if?"

She smiled, as if clarifying was part of her plan. "When."

Ron beamed, and pulled her closer. "In that case, I'm going to propose to you, Hermione."

She beamed back. "Are you doing that now?"

"No," he said. "It's going to be a surprise."

"I hate surprises," she said cautiously. "So just so you're prepared, I'm going to say yes."

*****

The rest of the winter holiday break passed without many hiccups. Sure, there was a bicker every now and then, but it was nothing compared to their Hogsmeade fight, and always maintained a rather playful tone. They spent the majority of their daytime with Harry and Ginny, occasionally popping by the burrow for a meal. Molly mentioned they seemed just as comfortable with each other now than they did that summer, "as if no time had passed." Harry and Ginny's eye rolls and sarcastic comments just reassured Ron that no one had noticed the rift they had recently repaired.

Hermione seemed to be making a visible effort to show affection, and Ron appreciated her for it. Upon learning that he needed just a little more reassurance, she had buried any qualms she once had about holding his hand under the table at the burrow, or chastely kissing him in the garden when they weren't alone, or even leaning up against him on the living room sofa, and gently stroking his hair while his brothers smiled knowingly. She was even less inhibited in the bedroom. They spent their evenings thoroughly exploring each other's bodies, now that a new door had been opened. Sex quickly became Ron's new favorite activity, although he felt like a walking teenage stereotype admitting it. It wasn't just the physical pleasure— something about the new level of knowledge he now possessed about Hermione solidified his status as her partner. As if a new book in a series had just been released, he suddenly felt like his favorite fantasy world had expanded. He made it a goal to absorb this new knowledge as respectfully and with as much admiration as he possibly could, taking immense pleasure in the fact that he was even allowed to be there.

Ron had dreaded the second half of the holiday, because he had to go back to training, and she was leaving for Australia to visit her parents. Knowing Pigwidgeon would never be able to make that flight— not once, not twice, not nearly as many times as Ron would actually consider enough— he mentally prepared himself to go an entire week without hearing from Hermione. He also decided to call that progress— since two weeks ago, that would have felt like nothing.

They woke up together on the morning she had to leave. When she attempted to slide out of bed, he slipped his arm around her to prevent her.

"Don't leave," he mumbled into her hair.

"I have to," she said sadly. "I wish you could come with me."

"I can't." He tightened his arm around her and pressed his lips to her neck. "I wish I could write to you."

"Oh that reminds me," she said, wrestling out of Ron's grip. "I have another present for you." She leaned over the bed and pulled something shiny out of her bag.

"What's that?"

"Here," she said, placing one small gold coin in Ron's hand, and keeping another for herself.

"A galleon?"

"A fake one."

"Hold on, is this one of our DA galleons?"

"Yes! But I enchanted it further. Watch." She pulled out her wand and tapped the tip to the center of the coin, concentrating hard. The words "Hi Ron!" appeared. She showed him her coin, and the words had appeared on both.

Ron was dumbstruck. "We can communicate without owls?"

"Yes!" said Hermione.

"How did you think of this?"

"It's based on muggle technology, actually," she said. "My parents use pagers to communicate."

"I love muggles," said Ron, pulling her in for another hug. "And you."

"Love you too," she said, before pressing her lips to his. Her hands started to wander, and Ron forgot about the DA coins for the next few moments.

The new DA coins got quite a bit of use over the next week while Hermione was in Australia, and to Ron's excitement, when she went back to Hogwarts. It suddenly Ron felt like a wall had crumbled, and he had access to her daily life and thoughts. There was nothing better than feeling the gold coin in his pocket warm up, and seeing a short but telling message scrawled across the front. The short snippets of conversation helped him stay caught up on her thoughts.

...

Hermione: I just took a shot with my dad, what is happening?

Ron: Been there! Did he at least give you his expensive gin?

...

Ron: I'm pretty sure Harry is singing to himself in the shower. He's not bad, actually.

Hermione: You should join him!

Ron: …

...

Hermione: What are you up to?

Ron: Eating.

Hermione: Go figure

...

Ron lived for these kinds of conversations. "Don't accidentally spend it!" was what she had told him, as if anything would be remotely worth it.

Although the coins were great for constant access to communication, they were not ideal for detail. When Hermione went back to school, he continued his weekly letters, and was pleasantly surprised that she did too.

The letters picked up where the coins left off, and rather than catching each other up on their daily lives, they used them to make plans. With the letters, they could fully detail their Hogsmeade plans, provide more context for their texts, and even begin discussing their ideas for term-end. Ron used a letter to suggest that Hermione move into Grimmauld Place with him and Harry after graduation, and he was thrilled that he didn't have to wait anxiously for pig to bring back her response, which was a resounding yes.

They didn't include all plans in their letters, because Hermione still managed to surprise him for his birthday. He came home from work on March 1st to find her sitting at their kitchen table with a big smile on her face.

"How did you get here?"

"Floo!" she said as she launched into his arms. "I told McGonagall it was an emergency."

"And what was the emergency," Ron said, hugging her so tightly that he lifted her off his feet.

"Your birthday!"

"And she let you leave?" he asked incredulously. She nodded. "I thought you hated surprises," he continued.

"I do, but I know you like them."

"I love them," he told her. "But I have to work this weekend —"

"No, you don't!" she said. "Harry's covering for you."

Ron beamed. "Really? He's in on this?"

She nodded. "Least he can do, for all the years he spent, you know, getting in our way."

Harry was not there to interfere that night, and thankfully, she had even more surprises planned for him. Ron didn't wake up predicting sex that day, and he definitely hadn't expected her to be wearing lacy lingerie under her school robes. One of the best surprises was how confidently she led him to his room, and pushed him onto the bed, expertly undoing the buttons of his jeans while her mouth never left his. His attraction to her was only multiplied by how unafraid she was to tell him what she wanted, and less surprising, but still unexpected, was his discovery of how much he liked being told what to do. Auror training had given him plenty of practice in taking orders, but until that night, he'd never enjoyed being so obedient.

It was the best birthday that Ron could remember. They spent the entire weekend in bed, either making love, or not making love, and he was grateful for all of it. Only three more months until they could do this every night, which reminded Ron to continue the disjointed conversation they'd been having over enchanted galleons.

"So I know you were planning on moving in here," he started. "What if we got our own place?"

"What about Harry?"

"What about him?" asked Ron.

"Won't he be lonely without you?"

Ron snorted. "He'll have Ginny."

Hermione looked at him through narrowed eyes. "So he told you she's moving in?"

"I knew you knew!" he said playfully.

"You're ok with it?"

"No, but I don't want to live with it, I would feel better if we got our own place."

They agreed to wait until term ended to officially start apartment hunting, so that Hermione could fully focus on completing her NEWTS and job applications. When she went back to school, their communication faltered a little bit, but it didn't bother Ron as much as it did their first term, because he knew exactly why her letters were shorter, and he was thrilled she was making the effort.

Her letters were still detailed enough that he knew of each job application she submitted, and he could feel her excitement about one particular one— an entry-level position in the office of magical law. The open position specifically dealt with updating and passing laws regarding the rights of magical creatures and Ron felt that Hermione was completely mental to think she was anything but a shoe-in.

They planned to meet at the ministry for lunch before her interview, and Ron showed up expecting nothing short of panic from Hermione. He sat through lunch acting as an interviewer, and let her rehearse her answers and talking points for her entire meal. He probably asked her more questions about S.P.E.W that day than he ever did during their school years, and he was quite impressed to learn how much she knew about magical law, even though it was never a subject at Hogwarts. He might be biased, but if he were really interviewing her, he'd hire her on the spot.

"You're going to be amazing, you know that?"

"I'm going to fail."

"They'd be lucky to have you," he told her, leaning in for a kiss across the table. He truly felt that way, they'd have to be idiots not to hire her, but again, he might be biased.

She trembled the whole way into her interview. Before she entered the interview room, he stopped her, and pulled her into his arms. "Just take five deep breaths, Hermione." He held her there, syncing his breathing up with hers, just like he did when she had a nightmare. Eventually, he felt her shoulders relax, and her spine straighten. "You can do this. You're brilliant."

"Thank you." She smiled gratefully and kissed him goodbye, or at least what she thought was goodbye. What she didn't know was that Ron had taken the afternoon off, and would be taking her out for a— likely celebratory— drink when the interview was over.

He sat down on a hallway bench and waited.

Hermione was beaming when she left the room an hour later, followed by two older, official-looking ministry employees. Ron stood as they each shook Hermione's hand. He couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but they appeared to be making plans.

She bid them goodbye and turned to see Ron standing there. Ron smiled nervously— he knew she hated surprises. "You're still here?"

Ron nodded. "I figured you'd need a drink—"

He was interrupted by her flinging herself into his arms. "They hired me!"

Ron lifted her off her feet and kissed her, and in a way, it felt like their first kiss in the Room of Requirement. He didn't care that people he knew were passing them in the hallways, and some of them might be Hermione's future coworkers. He didn't care that snogging his girlfriend in a crowded ministry hallway contradicted the excuse he used to get out of work early— he wasn't coming down with anything contagious other than genuine elation.

They apparated back to Hogsmeade, and he took her out for a celebratory butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks. It wasn't a Hogsmeade weekend, so the bar was relatively empty, save for a few professors, but Ron and Hermione didn't care. They made their way to their favorite booth in the back of the bar, and toasted to Hermione's new job, because their plans were falling into place beautifully, like dominoes that had been so precariously set over the past eight years they'd known each other.

They spent that evening making plans, and all of their plans came true. Hermione aced her N.E.W.T.S. She graduated with top marks, and celebrated at the burrow with his family. She moved into Grimmauld Place temporarily, and after just two short weeks of researching and touring apartments, they moved into their very own flat. It was in a muggle neighborhood, but had a second guest room and was right on a train line so her parents could visit, but the thing that made it perfect was that she lived there. In a way, that evening at the Three Broomsticks felt like the first day of the rest of their lives— their future finally felt clear, and they could plan for it. But when she unexpectedly ordered another round, not of butterbeer— of firewhiskey, and suggested they rent a room at the Hog's head to keep celebrating, he realized some of the best parts of his future with her would be entirely unplanned.

#ROMIONE #hpromione #ronweasley #Hermione Granger #ron x hermione #ron and hermione #hp fanfic #hp ficlet #romione fanfic

[secret-engima]

*snicker* Sorry, I just - had the mental image of the Nox!taur 'verse combined with your soulmates 'verse. And I just - had the mental image of Cor and secret!female!Ardyn switching places on Switch day - long before they actually *meet* in person. So here is Cor, utterly flabbergasted because he's long thought he was one of the few /without/ a soulmate, suddenly blinking awake on Switch day in an entirely different place and body and - are those wings. Are those scales. (cont)

hamelin-born said: (cont) He has a soulmate, and his soulmate is an /unknown dragon-taur?!/ His soulmate is a *Lucis Caelum?!* Meanwhile, Ardyn is - actually flawlessly pretending to be Cor and /getting away with it because 1) She actually learned about Switch Day and the existence of soulmates in time to anticipate this, and 2) Ardyn used to use illusions to assume other's identities for /fun/ (and blackmail purposes), she's /used/ to tricking others into believing she's someone else. (cont)

hamelin-born said: (cont) Ardyn's main worry is for her darling nibling - but they made all the preparations they could, just in case, and she knows that Nox can take care of himself. (Nox is. Currently being fed Good Food by Libertus, who immediately recognized that the person in Nyx's body Was Not Nyx, and is both welcoming him to the family and gently interrogating him. Meanwhile, Nyx is - literally in the middle of the wilderness, miles from everyone else, FREAKING OUT at the dragon-taur body she's in.)

hamelin-born said: Cont: It's later assumed by EVERYONE that a mixture of Lucis Caelum Magic, Niflheimr Magitek Science, and Astral Bleepery are to blame for the soulmates never switching until they were all well over 15.

Me: Can I just say I love this idea with every fiber of my being? Like- hgfdhgf. Not going to make it part of Nox!Taur canon but this is HYSTERICAL. Imma ramble on this because this is great.

Do you know what would make it BETTER? If neither of them had any clue it was going to happen. Ardyn just- woke up in the wrong body, looked around, and decided she had no idea what was going on but she was gonna ROLL WITH IT and is flawlessly pulling it off because she’s he master at addlibing. She picks up from some of the things mentioned as she goes about Cor’s day that 1. Apparently the switching thing is normal? 2. Apparently no one expects Cor to be switched because he never has and people assume that means his “soulmate” is dead or never existed. 3. That soulmates are a thing. Interesting.

Wait how is her darling nephew going to deal with this? Also this means Cor the Immortal is in HER body right now. Oh dear.

Cor meanwhile is Not A Happy Camper. He just- where is he. What’s going on. He SWITCHED? He has A SOULMATE AT HIS AGE (remember, switches only happen when the youngest member turns fifteen so Cor at first thinks his soulmate must be. Devastatingly young). Then he gets a good look at his soulmate’s body and internally Freaks Out. He has a dragon for a soulmate, there is ANOTHER LUCIS CAELUM RUNNING AROUND. Further, the caelum is STARVING TO DEATH. Cor can barely stand to haul this body to Hammerhead from the hunger pangs and dizziness and by the astrals what has his soulmate been doing to get into this state? (Answer: nothing, this is Ardyn’s normal state, she just literally doesn’t notice because compared to sharing a suit with thousands of screaming daemons the pain of hunger doesn’t even register as pain). Cor is further alarmed when he hauls the body to Hammerhead and Cid GREETS what he clearly thinks is the owner of the body, (ARDYN??? HIS SOULMATE IS ARDYN? IT BETTER NOT BE THE ARDYN HE’S THINKING OF) And Cor kinda gives the game away by yelling “YOU KNOW WHO OWNS THIS BODY?” And Cid blinks and goes “You’re her soulmate?” Then he squints because clearly Ardyn’s soulmate knows Cid too, takes in the posture and the scowl and goes “COR?”

In the middle of a private meeting between Regis, Clarus, Titus, and “Cor”, Regis’s phone rings. A quick check proves it to be Cid’s number and he answers because Cid never calls without very good reason. Listens with slowly widening eyes to whatever is being said, then lowers the phone to stare sternly at “Cor”, “I believe,” Regis says slowly as he turns the phone to speaker, “It’s for you.”

Ardyn is highly amused to hear her own voice trying to screech deeply as Cor yells at his soulmate over being half starved and also his soulmate and if you are causing his king any grief, soulmate or NOT he’s going to kill you.

Regis, Clarus, and Titus watch in minor horror as the person they were sure was just a slightly broodier Cor (which is normal considering what day it is) relaxes and smirks, body posture loose and totally different, “Me? My dear Cor,” purrs the person in Cor’s frame, “I’ve been causing no trouble at all! I even filed all your paperwork for you. No one has been inconvenienced in the slightest, have you, Your Majesty?” A bright smile that is eerie on Cor’s face and Regis stiffens. Then Ardyn flicks her soulmate’s lion tail and muses aloud, “I will admit to being confused over all of this however, this has never happened to me before.”

“Ah blame Mors,” Cid says over the line after shushing an irate Cor, “an’ the Nifs. They probably screwed with the soul bond or something.”

“Fair assumption,” muses Cor’s soulmate before smiling and bowing to Regis and Clarus with a dramatic, “Well, since Cor has given the game away, I suppose I should introduce myself. Ardyn Izunia, honored to make your acquantence.”

Dead. Horrified. Silence. Then over the line Cor starts swearing a blue streak.

Titus feels his Doom™ approaching. His boss is not only apparently FEMALE, she is COR’S SOULMATE. HIS SECRET BOSS AND THE MARSHAL ARE SOULMATES. HE’S DOOMED.

Turning to Nyx:

Nyx is … Nyx is not handling this well. She was expecting her Switch day to happen sometime soon, because there’s an average age range for soulmates and she’s creeping toward the longer end but not that badly. She was expecting a switch … she was NOT expecting to wake up alone, in the middle of nowhere, hungry and ACHING in her lower back where her taur half started, like a fire pounding in time to her heartbeat and making it exhausting just to stand up. Six, Six her soulmate must have just turned fifteen, a fifteen year old was out in the wildness, clearly INJURED and hungry-. She twists around to look at the injury, praying that doesn’t make it worse, and comes face to face with WINGS. Twitching, blue-scaled dragon wings.

Her soulmate is a dragontaur. Her soulmate is an injured, fifteen year old dragontaur in the middle of who knows where with no help or guardian in SIGHT-.

Six. Six this was bad. Who did she have to kill for this when she got back-.

“Nox? You okay?” Nyx whirls at the approach of the familiar voice, stumbles then rights herself clumsily (note to self, dragontaurs did NOT move the same way coeurltaurs did) and is both relieved and angry to see Axis cautiously trotting over.

“You KNOW who this is?” Nyx demands angrily, “Curse it, Axis, why didn’t you TELL anyone there was another Lucis Caelum running around?”

Axis freezes, several expressions cross his face, “Oh. I guess Nox turned fifteen recently,” he says aloud slowly, “You are?”

“Nyx. And the moment I’m back I am TELLING Luche and Tredd about this.”

Axis blanches, then sighs, “Yeah, I probably deserve that, come on, let’s get you to a Haven to figure this out.”

Nyx pauses, “I’m not sure I should be walking, he’s hurt.”

Axis whirls around in alarm, but after hearing Nyx’s description of the pain and a quick check under the shirt, Axis just shakes his head and looks … grim, “I knew he was always downplaying it.”

“…Axis?”

“You’re not feeling a wound. Those are just Nox’s scars. He kept saying they didn’t hurt anymore, but I always thought he was just acclimated to the pain.”

Nyx gapes for several seconds, already feeling fury building in her frame, wings mantling out without her control before she hisses, “Axis. Axis I literally feel like I’ve been mauled by a coeurl within the last week, HOW IS ANYONE ACCLIMATED TO THAT?”

Axis’s unhappy, protective look grows deeper, “By being stuck with it since childhood without proper medication or help. Now come on, you can’t fight in that body.”

Nyx follows, and suddenly doesn’t think the sick, twisting feeling in this body’s stomach is just hunger.

Turning to Nox!

Nox doesn’t realize the switch for a WHILE.

Mostly because he is dead to the world asleep.

He got switched to a body that doesn’t have anywhere near the level of aches and pains his has what did you expect but for him to conk out from relief?

It is that prolonged sleep that clues Libertus in that Nyx has finally had her first Switch, because yeah Nyx sleeps in sometimes, who doesn’t, but sleeping in until noon with no signs of stirring? Nyx hasn’t even done that when in the hospital unless she was drugged six ways from Sunday. So Libertus and Crowe carefully unlock Nyx’s apartment and scoot inside to wait anxiously in the living room/kitchenette of the tiny apartment. If Nyx IS just sleeping in somehow, she won’t care, and if it’s the new soulmate … Libertus is protective. He knows soulmates are supposed to be your ultimate match and partner, but he’s seen enough to know that sometimes … things just don’t work out. He isn’t going to let Nyx’s body get hurt because some stranger woke up and reacted badly to being a soulmate to a Kingsglaive.

When Nox finally wakes up, he registers his strange surroundings and FREAKS. Promptly falls over because coeurl legs rather than the dragon limbs he’s finally used to. Crowe and Libertus run in just in time to witness Nox having a panic attack. Libertus thinks that’s … an overreaction until after calming Nox down and listening to his confused, freaked out questions, they realize that whoever this is, he is SOMEHOW totally oblivious to how soulmates work.

Nox gets bundled into the living area with Crowe sitting on not-his-back while Libertus feeds him All the Good Food and explains the soulmate thing.

Soulmate.

This is a soulmate world. A taur soulmate world where soulmates find each other by SWAPPING BODIES for two days of the year.

Bahamut. Bahamut where are you Nox waNtS a ReFUnD-

Libertus asks some gentle questions and yeah it becomes immediately clear that Nyx’s soulmate was … not taken care of as a child. Or possibly ever.

Libertus wants to kill someone.

The soulmate, who’s name is Nox apparently, admits to having an- a relative he calls “Uncle”, and when Libertus and Crowe gently tell Nox that his soulmate is a Kingsglaive named Nyx … Nox bursts into tears. He can’t help it, he’s freaked out and stressed and this isn’t his body so his control is shot and that name is the name of the person who saw his father DIE in the other timeline-.

Crowe and Lib exchange looks, dreading having to tell Nyx her soulmate is an anti-refugee or something, when Nox struggles his tears under control and wobbly asks to borrow a phone. Libertus cautiously hands him one and Nox dials a number, but instead of the mysterious “Uncle”, Nox holds the phone to his ear and when the other end picks up asks with a cracking voice, “Axis? This is … this is Nox. Um … I don’t suppose you found … my body? Because apparently I’m not in it for the day? You did? Oh…. Okay. Okay good. …No. No I’m not … I’m just … this is a shock. No. No one told me about this, Uncle never said a word and it’s not like-. Yeah. Umm… yeah hang on,” Nox holds out the phone to Libertus (who is currently wondering what the odds are that the “Axis” Nox just called isn’t one Axis Arra who is about to be in so much trouble) and Libertus takes it.

On the phone is a teen voice, male, not Axis, “Lib, tell me my soulmate is okay.”

“Nyx. He’s … okay. This entire thing freaked him out pretty bad. You with someone right now?”

“Yeah. Axis Arra. Turns out SOMEONE didn’t feel the need to inform the Clans he’d adopted a DRAGONTAUR last year.”

Libertus rears back, stomping his hooves in shock, “A WHAT.”

“You heard me the first time.”

“By the Six.”

Nyx takes a deep breath on the line and Libertus settles immediately, “What. What else is there. Nyx, talk to me.”

Nyx’s tone, even in a foreign body, is the most fragile and angry he’s heard it in a long time, “I am in … a lot of pain right now Lib. Like-. Would willingly check myself into a hospital for the good painkillers level of pain. And according to Axis? This is NORMAL.”

And Libertus thinks of how his first clue to the Switch was Nox sleeping half the Switch day away. Thinks of how exhausting it is to suddenly not be in pain anymore. Thinks of a lone dragontaur with only a mysterious “Uncle” to care for him yet not tell him about soulmates, of a stray that Axis would feel wasn’t SAFE to be known as an Arra or introduced to the Clans-.

He takes a deep breath to keep from snarling. As it is, his rear hoof stomps with a sharp sound that makes Crowe look worried, “You and Axis haul your tails back here as fast as you can. We can … talk about this when you get back.”

“Right. But for the record? I’m never letting my soulmate out of Little Galahd without an escort again. And I’m going to be cashing in my med insurance BIG time.”

Libertus stares down at the body of his best friend, currently inhabited by one frazzled, shaking, probably abused dragontaur teen, and exhales slowly, “Once this gets out? You’re gonna have the entire Glaive pitching in. And the Ostium Clan.”

“Thanks, Big Guy.” Nyx hangs up and Libertus pockets the phone, only telling a nervous Nox that Nyx and Axis are going to make their way to Insomnia, because the only way to stop the switches is to meet face to face. Nox looks relieved and scared all in one and Libertus shares a look with Crowe.

Yeah. They’re never letting Nyx’s soulmate out of their sight again.

#SE asks #hamelin-born asks #Secret Engima Rambles #Nox verse #Nox!Taur verse #soulmate au

[cosleia]

What if Millicent wasn't a small cat but something tiger-sized and Pryde poked her with his stick one time too many?

The Deaths of Allegiant General Pryde, Part 6: Dinner

(kylux, preslash. content note: graphic descriptions of an animal mauling and eating a person)

“I understand you have a...pet,” said Allegiant General Enric Pryde, slapping his swagger stick into his palm.

General Armitage Hux’s office on the Steadfast was not large—nothing like his war room and engineering facilities on the Finalizer had been—but it had a desk and a chair and a door, and at this point that was all he could hope for. It did have its merits: Pryde had had to use the call box before entering, and he also had to stand while Armitage remained comfortable in his seat.

Armitage managed not to twitch at the sound of Pryde’s crop striking the leather of his glove. It was an obvious intimidation tactic, and Armitage was not intimidated by sanctimonious peons like Pryde. “Yes,” he said. “It’s my prerogative as ranking general.” He watched Pryde’s face, daring him to claim that his rank was higher. This issue had not yet come to a head, and Armitage was, quite frankly, tired of the chain of command being unclear.

But Pryde ignored the comment, likely because he didn’t want to risk losing the authority he’d so recently gained when Supreme Leader Kylo Ren chose to make Pryde’s flagship his own. What he did say was, “It’s highly irregular. And as this is my ship, I have the right to assess the way this creature is being housed. Every centimetre counts on a starship, General—”

“Millicent lives in my chambers, General,” Armitage put in, a bit crossly. “And I pay for her food out of my own stipend. She will have no impact on the operation of the Steadfast, just as she never interfered with the operation of the Finalizer.”

Pryde raised an eyebrow. “If that’s true, then you shouldn’t mind a brief inspection of your quarters? To validate what you’ve said.”

Armitage had a feeling he’d been outmaneuvered, but he wasn’t sure how. Pryde had the right to enter any area on the Steadfast, including all officers’ chambers. Well, excepting Ren’s, of course, and the rooms Ren kept for his Knights.

Wait. Had Ren also made Armitage’s chambers off limits to Pryde?

A smile twitched its way across Armitage’s face. “You’re more than welcome to come meet Millicent, General,” he said graciously. “I’m sure she’d enjoy the company.”

“I’ll send an audit team,” Pryde sniffed. He tucked his swagger stick beneath his left arm the way he did when he was about to walk away dismissively, and oh, so that’s what he was after. Pryde wanted to spy on Armitage. His ‘audit team’ would almost certainly consist of intelligence officers who would bring with them any number of tiny, easily hidden surveillance devices.

“I’m sorry, General,” Armitage said, “but I can’t allow that. Millicent loves people, but she can be distressed by groups. One person is all I’m willing to subject her to.”

“Yet you claim the creature won’t interfere with the operation of this ship.”

Armitage smiled again. “One person is sufficient to perform an audit. As I said, you are more than welcome to come yourself.”

Pryde always looked like he was glowering, but his face looked especially severe now. “Fine,” he said.

“Of course, I must also be present,” Armitage added. “She won’t take kindly to a stranger I haven’t introduced her to.”

“Fine,” Pryde said again. If he was feeling anything beyond slightly inconvenienced, he was hiding it exceptionally well. “We’ll go now.”

~

Armitage heard a muffled thump and the clack of Millie’s claws on the durasteel floor as soon as the hatch cycled open. “Come, darling!” he called, though she was almost certainly already on her way. “We have a visitor!”

Millicent emerged from the bedroom at a gallop, a giant blur of orange and black and white, barreling up to Armitage and bounding up on her hind legs to throw her front paws onto his shoulders. He staggered a bit under her weight and laughed as her enormous tongue lapped over his neck and face. “There’s a good girl,” he praised her, putting his arms as far around her as he could get them, stroking down her back, and burying his face in the wonderfully soft fur behind her ear. “Hello. Hello. Did you miss me?”

As usual, the greeting was over in a matter of seconds; Millie pushed off him and dropped back to the floor and circled toward where Pryde was standing. Her hackles weren’t raised, not really, but she was curious, cautious. The muscles in her legs and back were visibly tensed for a pounce, and her tail was flicking slowly back and forth behind her in preparation to counterbalance. She was absolutely magnificent, the perfect hunter, and Armitage indulged in watching her for a moment before turning his attention to Pryde.

The allegiant general stood stock-still by the door, arms straight at his sides. The only parts of him that moved were his eyes as they followed Millie’s prowl back and forth between him and the main living space. “General?” Armitage prompted.

“It’s rather...large,” Pryde said. For once, his voice wasn’t strong and certain. He seemed to remember how to move, pulling his swagger stick out from under his arm and brandishing it in front of him like a knife.

“Yes, she is,” Armitage agreed.

“I expected something...smaller. Where is its cage?”

Armitage blinked, affronted. “I would never put my Millie in a cage. She needs room to move about. It’s in her blood.”

“It’s tame, though?”

“Of course. I trained her myself. It can be difficult with this species, but only if one is not fully committed to the task.”

“Ah,” Pryde said, shifting back a half step as Millie twitched her whiskers at him. “I suppose you are the son of a nerf-herder.”

“Nerfs are docile plant-eaters!” Even someone as witless as Pryde should be able to appreciate how special Millie was, how unique. “Millie is a carnivore. A predator. It’s completely different.” Armitage wrinkled his nose and added, “Also, Millie doesn’t stink.”

Millie, sensing Armitage’s distress, began to growl low in the back of her throat. Pryde took a full step back.

“No, no, it’s all right, Millie,” Armitage told her. “To me.” Millicent loped to Armitage’s side. “Sit,” Armitage said, and Millie lowered her haunches to the floor in her elegant, feline version of parade rest. “Good girl.”

“She does seem to be well trained,” Pryde said, sounding half relieved and half disappointed. “And her presence in your quarters does not affect the operation of the ship. I shall not press the matter.”

“I appreciate your understanding, General,” Armitage said. At this point, Pryde just seemed eager to leave. He’d had no opportunity to plant any bugs; he hadn’t even moved from the doorway. Armitage, with Millicent’s help, had successfully foiled his plot. “Shall we return to the bridge?”

~

Life-partner did not like the grouchy man he brought home today. Millicent knew that for certain. And Grouchy didn’t seem to like life-partner, either, which meant Grouchy was a threat. They were tolerating each other, though, and that meant Millicent would tolerate Grouchy too...so long as Grouchy didn’t cause any problems.

Some time had passed since then. She had batted her toys around for a while and now she was lying at the foot of their bed. She had just started meticulously grooming herself when she heard the front door cycle open again. It was early for life-partner to return, but he had returned at a strange time already today, so Millie did not worry right away. However, the heavy footfalls she heard next did not belong to life-partner, nor did the scent that shortly came wafting in. Millie leapt off the bed and trotted out to the playroom, lips already curling back in warning.

It was Grouchy. Life-partner was not with him.

Millie bared all her teeth and told Grouchy unequivocally to get out of their home. Her loud, rumbling growl seemed to terrify Grouchy; he froze in place like an ash-rabbit instead of doing what she’d told him. Something he was holding in his left hand fell to the floor with a small clatter.

Millie stepped forward, attempting to startle him, to herd him to the door. Grouchy waved the stick he was carrying in his right hand at her. She paused, cocking her head to the side as she evaluated the weapon. It did not seem to pose any significant threat. “Back,” Grouchy said. “Back, you ugly beast.”

Millie recognized the words. ‘Back,’ of course, was a command. Life-partner used ‘ugly’ whenever he was talking about Dark One, and he loved Dark One almost as much as he loved Millicent, so it must be a compliment. ‘Beast,’ however, was an unpleasant word she had heard as a cub, back before life-partner had chosen her. It meant disrespect.

Millie did not obey the commands of those who did not respect her.

She continued her slow, steady advance. Grouchy let out a high-pitched sound and waved his stick right in her face. This time it actually brushed her whiskers. Millie snapped at it in warning, letting her sharp teeth clack together noisily. “Sit!” Grouchy yelled. “Lie down! Get back! Get away!”

She let out her own yell, again commanding him to leave her home. The roar was so load it rattled the drinking glass life-partner had left on the caf table. Surely that would be enough to get Grouchy to go.

But it wasn’t. Grouchy crouched down, reaching with his free hand for the small item he’d dropped. At the same time, he stopped waving the stick and started thrusting it toward her. This form of attack seemed more dangerous; he might strike her in the eye. One thrust poked her hard in the cheek; she howled, more from surprise than pain, and then she snapped her jaws closed around Grouchy’s wrist to keep him from poking her again.

She’d been polite long enough.

Grouchy screeched and jerked backward, trying and failing to free himself from Millie’s powerful hold, and dropped both the stick and the other thing. Millicent sank her teeth deep into his flesh to secure her grip.

Then she tasted blood.

Life-partner took good care of Millie, providing food and water and a bed and toys and a place to play. But it had been a long time since Millie had hunted prey. A long time since she’d enjoyed the meat of a fresh kill.

She considered. Would life-partner be troubled if she had Grouchy for dinner? Surely his unwelcome intrusion into their home and his refusal to leave broke any sort of truce the two of them had. There might be some other reason life-partner wouldn’t want Millie to eat Grouchy, but now his blood was trickling tantalizingly down her throat and she wanted more.

She deserved this, Millie decided. She had been very good for life-partner, and life-partner loved her. This was her treat.

That settled, she bit Grouchy’s hand off.

Her teeth crunched delightfully straight through the bones and tendons of Grouchy’s arm, and she chomped and smacked her lips and tossed her head until she got the whole hand into her mouth. Millie ground the meat and bones down to delicious pieces between her teeth and swallowed it all triumphantly.

Grouchy was screaming, clutching at his bloody arm, and that only made Millicent want more. She stalked toward him, licking her chops. Should she eat him piece by piece, saving the most savory bits for last? Should she go straight for the delectable organs she knew she’d find within his torso? She could crack him open easily just by leaping on top of him to break his sternum, tearing into his flesh with her claws, ripping out his ribs with her teeth—

He staggered backward until he hit the wall, and then he was scrabbling against it desperately, still screaming. His wounded cries were so sweet and enticing; how could she resist? Millicent lunged and struck him heavily with one paw, sending him flying to the floor faster than he could fall. One of his legs was left sticking out at an odd angle; she stepped on it and felt it break in two beneath her paw.

Now he was sobbing, trying and failing to crawl away. She almost wished they were in an open plain where she could really chase him, follow his wails and hunt him properly, but she had a feeling he wouldn’t have put up much of a fight no matter where he was.

Anyway, in an open plain she might have had to share. Here, this meal was all hers.

He kicked his good leg at her, so Millicent got her mouth around his ankle and gave it a good chomp. It was slightly harder to separate his foot from his body because of the covering over it, but after a few moments of worrying at it, she finally ripped it free. Millicent kept an eye on her prey as she set about tearing open the foot covering to get at the meat. Human feet weren’t especially delicious, but the bones provided a satisfying crunch, and she wanted to enjoy that before moving on to something meatier like the leg.

All Grouchy was doing was whimpering and crying and dragging himself along the ground as best he could without the full use of three limbs. It was slow going. He seemed to be trying to get to the door, but there was no way he’d be able to open it without standing on his hind legs, and Millicent didn’t think he would be able to do that. She took her time, gnawing and slurping at the foot until finally she finished it with a single definitive crunch.

Grouchy had almost made it to the door by the time she was done. It wouldn’t do for life-partner to stumble over him when he got home. Millicent trotted over and grabbed the back of Grouchy’s neck in her jaws and flung him bodily back toward the center of the room. Necks were vulnerable, especially human necks, and Millicent thought she might have broken Grouchy’s; at least that meant he’d hold still while she finished her feast.

It was time to eat his heart, Millicent decided. She’d denied herself long enough. Eagerly, Millie bounded over to Grouchy’s collapsed form, batted him over onto his back with her paw, and cracked open his chest just like she’d planned.

~

“Where is Allegiant General Pryde?”

Usually Pryde was at Kylo’s side whenever Kylo was outside his chambers. Kylo vacillated between finding it convenient and irritating; having an old Imperial constantly hanging around wasn’t really the same as keeping Hux close. Right now, though, the allegiant general was nowhere to be found, and Kylo had some orders to give him.

“General Hux?” Kylo asked, because Hux was the type to know where everyone was at all times.

“I’m afraid I don’t know, sir,” Hux said. A cursory scan of his mind showed he was telling the truth. Surprising. “I haven’t seen him since the middle of cresh shift. He said he had business and left the bridge.”

Kylo felt himself scowling and wished he hadn’t destroyed his mask.

“Can...I help with something, sir?” Hux added.

“Yes,” Kylo said, because he could give orders through Hux just as well as through Pryde. Actually, the allegiant general being absent was a good opportunity. Kylo didn’t feel like he could talk to Hux when Pryde was around. This was ridiculous, of course; he was Supreme Leader and could talk to anybody whenever he wanted. But still, it always felt...awkward. “Your chambers,” Kylo decided, in case Pryde suddenly decided to appear. “Now.”

As they set off together, Hux actually walked abreast of Kylo instead of trailing behind him. It was, Kylo thought, the first time he’d done that in a year. It reminded Kylo of how things had been on the Finalizer, before.

“How is Millicent?” Kylo asked, realizing he hadn’t thought about Hux’s pet in months. He wasn’t even sure she had survived Batuu.

“She’s fine, Supreme Leader,” Hux said. “Healthy and happy.”

It would be nice to see her again. She had always been friendly with Kylo, letting him pet her and scratch below her jowls. She had a deep, throaty purr that was strangely soothing.

He felt a sudden spike of anxiety that things might be different now, that Millicent might not like Kylo anymore. The thought of her rebuffing him was unpleasant. But there was no reason for Millicent to dislike him, was there? Things had—changed, shifted, with Hux, but surely that wouldn’t affect—

Kylo swallowed and pushed those worries down. It didn’t matter if an animal didn’t like him, did it? He was the Supreme Leader. He didn’t need anyone to like him. Not Millicent, not Hux, not anyone.

“Here we are,” Hux said, breaking into Kylo’s maudlin thoughts. Hux activated the airlock hatch to his chambers and started to enter. “Can I offer you a—” Then he broke off, stopping in the doorway, his mouth hanging open for a beat. “Ah. Supreme Leader. Perhaps a different venue—?”

“No,” Kylo said. “We’re already here. I don’t care if you haven’t dusted, or whatever.” He shouldered past Hux.

Then he stopped too. The floor was covered in dried blood, tattered pieces of fabric and leather, and bits of what looked like bone. Millicent lay curled up by the sofa. She looked very pleased with herself; her long tail curled slowly back and forth as she raised her head to look at Kylo. There was blood all around her mouth and all over her paws.

Her stomach was distended.

The smell of blood always gave Kylo something of a rush. It excited him. It was a scent of battle. He licked his lips as he stepped further into Hux’s chambers, scanning the room for evidence of what exactly had happened. It seemed clear enough, though. “Millie,” he said, “did you eat someone?”

Millie licked her own chops in response, as if to say yes.

Hux spoke up then, a nervous thread in his voice. “Supreme Leader, I’m utterly horrified. I’ve no idea how this happened. No one should have been in my chambers. I’m sure she was simply defending herself—”

Kylo raised a hand to shut him up. “It’s fine,” he said. “If Millie did eat someone, they probably deserved it.” He crossed the room to Millicent and buried his hands in her fur. “I missed you,” he crooned to her. To his delight, she rolled onto her back, inviting him to rub her tummy.

“You won’t...punish her?” Hux asked. “No matter who it was?”

“No,” Kylo said shrugging. “Why would I do that? I won’t punish you, either.”

“In that case...” Hux stepped further into the room, stooped over, picked something up, and brought it to Kylo. Kylo glanced up, then did a double take. It was that stick Pryde was always carrying around.

“Oh,” Kylo said with a laugh of realization. “So that’s where he was.”

Hux’s face took on a look of triumph. It was subtle enough that most people probably wouldn’t notice it, but Kylo did. It helped that he could also feel the man’s satisfaction rolling out from him like waves in the Force.

“You didn’t like him,” Kylo said. When Hux didn’t answer right away, Kylo added, “I know you didn’t plan this.”

At that, Hux let out a small laugh of surprise. "No, Supreme Leader. I didn’t like him.”

“I didn’t really like him either,” Kylo said. “But he always did what I ordered, so there wasn’t a good reason to kill him.” Kylo shrugged.

“It seems he intended to spy on me,” Hux added, holding up another item that appeared to be a small transmitter.

Kylo scoffed. “Was he so inept that he didn’t think he could serve me without trying to copy my most brilliant general? Fool.” Kylo turned back to Millicent and resumed stroking her fat belly. “You ate well, didn’t you? Guess you don’t need your regular dinner, do you?” Millicent nudged her face against Kylo’s ankle and started purring, and Kylo felt both gratified and content, like everything was the way it was supposed to be.

After a moment, Hux moved around the caf table and sat down on the couch, leaning over to join Kylo in petting Millicent. “Good girl,” Kylo heard him say softly.

~

Millie didn’t know why life-partner hadn’t taken Dark One as his mate yet. Humans had many strange and inconvenient customs; perhaps a long courtship was one of them. But it was nice to see Dark One again. There was something different about him, something different about the way he and life-partner were behaving around each other...but life-partner still smiled when he thought Dark One wasn’t looking, and Dark One still stared at life-partner like he wanted to mate immediately. It was only a matter of time.

Maybe, Millicent thought as Dark One settled onto the sofa next to life-partner and she climbed up to sprawl across both their laps, it would happen tonight.

~

The Deaths of Allegiant General Pryde series on AO3

#star wars #kylux #fanfic #my writing #the deaths of allegiant general pryde #gore #fruhallbera #long post

[ellewritesathing]

So Close - S.S. XXXIX

Summary: The universe has a funny way of putting the things you want right in front of you, but just out of reach. Stiles and Y/N have been best friends ever since Scott brought him home, but when Stiles realizes that he might want to be something other than best friends, she leaves to go to some fancy private school up North. Now that she’s back though … maybe he’s got a shot? A Teen Wolf AU in which the reader has always been so close to Stiles and yet so far.

Masterlist   Prev. | Part 39

Word-count: 2.6k+

A/N: guess who straight up forgot what day of the week it was but a day late is better than never right?? hope you guys like it!! 💕 (also i couldn’t find the gif i wanted to use so have some alpha!scott)

Though it had only been a few days, you’d been staying at Stiles’ house ever since he and Scott had gotten into their fight. Melissa was hardly impressed with the decision, but she relented when Noah got hurt and she realized that he'd be staying alone if it wasn't for you. Part of the deal you'd struck, however, was that you’d check in with her every day. Seeing as how you needed some new clothes and the Stilinski's washing machine was busted, you decided to make it a house call. 

Melissa didn’t seem to be at home, but you could tell that Scott was there thanks to your fancy new werewolf skills. You tiptoed up to his room and stood in the doorway while he attempted to pin photos and post-it notes to a new corkboard. He was using the same red yarn that Stiles used on his conspiracy boards. 

The only problem was that Scott attached one of the strings to his jacket as well as at least five other pins. As soon as he tugged on the yarn, every photo and post-it note came clattering down. He let out a sigh and threw the piece of yarn towards the ground. 

“It’s easier to stick the details to the photos before you pin them up,” you said. “Once you've pinned everything up, you can connect them with yarn.” 

Scott seemed surprised to see you as he turned around. Maybe his senses were slipping. “Thanks,” he said uncertainly, sliding some of the fallen papers behind him with his foot. 

“Stiles has perfected the art of the conspiracy board over the years,” you said as you pushed yourself off of the door jam and started heading towards your room. “Maybe you should ask him about it sometime.”

“Y/N, wait!” Scott called after you. You stopped in the hallway and turned back to look at him. He looked kind of pathetic as he stood there with the remnants of his would-be board around him. “Is he- you know, how is he?” 

“His dad is still in the hospital so not great,” you said. It came out snippier than you meant it to. You let out a sigh and shook your head as you walked over to him. “How could you do that to him, Scott? You left him.” 

“I thought he killed someone.” 

“He did kill someone. In self-defense.” You got close enough to him and poked his chest as you finished. “And he needed you to be there for him.” 

Scott didn’t mean to yell, but he did anyway. “How was I supposed to do that when he didn’t even tell me about it?” He took a breath and looked away for a second, trying very hard to regain his cool. “Sorry, I- I didn’t mean to-” 

“I know,” you said quietly. You wrapped your arms around yourself and tried to think of how to say what you needed to. “Look, Scott … He’s mad because you didn’t believe him from the start. He said we shouldn’t trust Theo and you dismissed him as being paranoid. Then this happened, and Stiles was so scared that you would kick him out completely that- that he didn’t tell you.” 

“I know.” 

“I know you know.” You took a breath and uncrossed your arms to put a hand on his arm. “You’re making a good effort. Just don’t give up on him again, okay? He’ll come around.”

Scott dropped his gaze and nodded a few times. A memory flashed in your mind from just after you'd returned to Beacon Hills when Scott was comforting you thought you'd ruined your relationship with Stiles. Scott snapped you back to the present after a few seconds. “And what about you?” 

That caught you off guard. You frowned slightly as you thought about it. “If you couldn’t forgive Stiles for self-defense, I was scared about what you’d do when I did something worse,” you said slowly. “Don’t look at me like that. You’ve seen me out there; it’s only a matter of time. For me and Malia both.” 

“Malia?” Scott asked. “What does Malia have to do with any of this?” 

“You seriously haven’t noticed?” you asked, rolling your eyes when he said he didn’t. “She’s been hunting her mom down since she found out her name from Peter. I’m pretty sure she’s gonna kill her.”

“And you didn’t say anything?” Scott asked, starting to lose his cool again. 

“Scott, not everyone has a family like ours," you said. "Especially not the Hales. Plus, I mean, the Desert Wolf kills people. If Malia wants to kill hee, that's not really my business.” 

“But she’s still a person! You can’t just-” Scott took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew he needed to stay calm or you'd leave. “Okay. But we … we’re okay?”

You gave him a small smile and squeezed his arm before letting go. “We’re getting there, Scotty.”

“I can work with that,” Scott said with his goofy, hopeful grin.

In a weird kind of peace offering, you started helping Scott set his board up. The two of you didn’t talk very much as you did, but it was nice to be alone with him for a little while, even if what you were doing was pretty morbid. When he reached to pin up the last photo, Scott winced and lowered his arm before he got the chance. 

You reached out to steady him, looking down at where his wound was. “That’s taking a pretty long time to heal.”

“Yeah, I know,” Scott exhaled. He put the photo on his desk very gently. “I think it’s because it’s from Liam. Because we’re not … you know.” 

“I know,” you said quietly, still holding onto him. “You need some help cleaning it up?”

Scott took a breath and winced at how much his chest moved. “No, I can handle it. Do you wanna get your stuff and I’ll drop you off at Stiles’ house?” 

No. You wanted to help your brother. Instead you just gave him a weak smile and pulled your hand away. “Sure. Yell if you need any help.”

Scott promised he would but you doubted that he’d follow through with it, so you kept an ear out for any surprises. The sounds of Scott struggling to clean his wounds weren’t that surprising, but Stiles coming over to ask for Scott's help was. Scott agreed immediately, like you knew he would, and the two of them were off before you knew it. 

Though it was a little disheartening that Stiles hadn’t picked you to be his werewolf partner in crime, you were relieved that they were both making an effort to patch up. You followed them anyway, just in case, but you kept your distance so they wouldn’t spot you. 

They were investigating what happened at the relay station with Hayden, her sister, and the new chimera at the relay station. You listened closely to what was going on inside and waited maybe five minutes before following them down when they found a secret tunnel underground. 

Following them without them noticing was harder down in the tunnels - everything echoed off the walls - but you managed to stay hidden until they were attacked. 

Seeing Tracy alive and trying to kill your friends was as bizarre an experience as seeing her dead body, but not any more bizarre than punching your formerly-dead classmate Josh in the mouth. You wondered if the others felt like this after you died. 

Josh’s electricity made your heart race but you still managed to slam him against the wall and Scott shoved Tracy’s claws between Josh’s shoulder blades a second later. You sliced Tracy with your claws as you let go of Josh and she collapsed to the ground a few feet away from where Stiles lay paralyzed. You pressed the sole of your shoe into her back to keep her on the ground and looked up at Scott for advice on how to handle it. 

Scott was shining his alpha eyes at a spot along the pipes. He let out a low growl and Corey materialized a second later, very much still afraid of him. 

“Okay!” Theo called out from the shadows. Your heel dug further into Tracy's back as you turned to face where he stepped out from another part of the tunnels. “Maybe they’re not ready to take on an Alpha just yet.” You threw one of your knives at him and he looked minorly inconvenienced as he dodged it. “Though I didn’t expect you to have help. Or to smell fear.” 

Tracy started moving under your foot and you started pushing her further down when Scott shook his head at you. Reluctantly, you took your foot off her back and took a step back. Tracy got to her feet without taking her eyes off you. 

“He has fangs!” Corey argued. You had to admit, sending cute little Corey after Scott seemed idiotic.

“What did you do to them?” you asked Theo. 

Theo gave you a nauseating smile. “Jealous of the newer model?” 

“What did you do?” Scott repeated. 

“I found some new friends,” Theo said as he looked back over at Scott. “I don’t take rejection very well.”

“Haven’t you had a lifetime of practice?” you asked. Tracy and Corey picked up Josh and you held a hand out and stepped in front of them. Sure, he just tried to kill your brother but you were still protective over him. “Where are you taking him?” 

“Somewhere where he's not gonna get stabbed in the back,” Tracy said venomously. “You got a problem with that?” 

“No,” Scott answered for you. “Get out of here.”

You moved out of their way so they could leave, but you didn’t say anything until you were sure that they were long gone. You took a deep breath and returned your focus to Theo, who was dangerously close to Stiles. 

“Hey, Theo,” Stiles said with fake enthusiasm from where he lay paralyzed. 

“Stiles,” Theo said. He lifted his foot and smashed the floor in front of Stiles, the part of the floor with Latin written on it in Mercury, but it was too close to him for you to be comfortable. Theo sighed and walked closer to you and Scott. “You’re going to leave here thinking that you need to worry about me.” He circled you and Scott as he spoke. “But you’re wrong. We’re actually on the same side.”

You looked over at Scott for a second and he looked just as distrusting as you did for once. 

“But that thing …” Theo said as he came to a stop, looking up at the ceiling. “That’s what we need to worry about. Your pack and mine.” You scoffed under your breath. His pack. “Now, we’re gonna go back to school and pretend like we’re normal teenagers, but at night, we’re going to be fighting for our lives.”

“What is it?” Stiles asked.

“It’s not a chimera,” Theo said. 

“But it’s just a kid underneath,” Scott argued, always noble. “Someone like us.”

Theo tilted his head and gave Scott one of his secretive smiles. “Not anymore.” He started turning again and walked off into the darkness after his new pack of chimeras. 

You took a deep breath and let out a long exhale as you put your head in your hands for a moment. “Well, shit, guys. That sounds awful.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Stiles said as he looked you up and down (which looked very interesting considering his collapsed position on the floor). “What are you doing here, by the way?” 

“Hi, babe, good to see you too,” you teased as you crouched down in front of him. You moved some hair out of his face and smiled at him. “I came to make sure neither of you killed one another. Can I sit you up?”

Stiles let out a sigh and rolled his eyes to the best of his paralyzed abilities. He looked ready to say something sarcastic before deciding against it. “Yes, please.”

You smiled at him and looped his arm around your shoulder while Scott took Stiles’ other arm. The two of you dragged him to a wall and propped him up, Scott sitting on his one side and you on his other. As Scott settled in, you picked up Stiles’ hand and moved it into yours. 

“He knew what it meant and I can’t even remember the words,” Scott said after a while. 

“Damnatio Memoriae,” Stiles said. Scott looked at him a little incredulously and it made you smile. Of course, Stiles remembered the ominous Latin writing. “It means the condemnation of memory. I think it also means that whatever the Dread Doctors created, whatever this last chimera really is ... it’s not something new. It’s something old. Really old.”

“So they didn’t create a new creature,” Scott said slowly. 

“They resurrected one,” you said, turning so you look at both of them clearly. “Like how Theo resurrected the others.” 

“Not exactly, but …” Stiles took a deep breath. “Yeah.” 

“That sounds bad,” you said quietly.

“Really bad.” Scott waited a minute and then pressed his index and middle fingers to the dirt and drew a circle, the beginning of his pack symbol. “We need help,” he said. “If Theo’s got his own pack now then we need ours. We have to get the others back.”

“The others?” Stiles repeated. “You mean Kira who’s currently battling a homicidal fox spirit inside of her, Malia who isn’t even speaking to us, Lydia who’s stuck in Eichen House, and Liam who almost killed you?” 

“Also known as our best friends,” Scott said. 

You snorted and Stiles pulled a face at you, which only made you laugh harder. It felt wrong to laugh in these tunnels. “And how do you plan on getting the gang back together?” you asked.

“One by one,” Scott said. His eyes flicked from Stiles to the incomplete pack boob in the dust.

“You’re not seriously going to make me do it,” Stiles said, frowning at the dirt on the floor.

“You’re part of the pack, right?” Scott asked. 

“Here,” you said as you moved to grab Stiles' other hand. You held two of his fingers in your hand. “Just until you get your feeling back.”

Stiles took a reluctant breath but nodded anyway for you to do it. You moved his hand to make a bigger circle around Scott’s and held in a laugh at how exasperated he looked. You bumped his arm and smiled at him. 

“Let’s get out here,” you said. “This place gives me the creeps.” 

Both Stiles and Scott laughed, but Scott got to his feet and offered you a hand up. You let him help you up, and then you each took one of Stiles’ arms and pulled him to his feet. 

The two of you supported most of Stiles’ weight while you walked, but it wasn’t much of a burden to your superhuman strength. You couldn’t say the same for Scott though - the smell of his blood got stronger the closer you got to the exit - but at least Stiles was regaining some feeling by then. 

You helped Stiles into the passenger seat of the Jeep and buckled him in before pressing a kiss to his forehead. “See you at home, okay?” 

“Okay,” Stiles said with a smile. “Thanks for looking after me. I know it’s not the easiest job.” 

“Yeah, but it’s the only job I care about,” you said softly. You were going to kiss him when you heard Scott squirming around as he tried to get into the driver’s seat. You sighed and looked over at him. 

“Sorry, the seat is like really squeaky,” he said awkwardly. “I know you guys were having a moment.” 

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Yeah, emphasis on ‘were.’”

You laughed again while Scott stammered out ten thousand apologies and Stiles gave him a hard time. There was still a long way to go, but this was a start. And this was enough.

Tagged: @ietss​  @used-avocado​

#stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles slow burn #teen wolf #teen wolf au #teen wolf rewrite #mccall!reader

[carelessgraces]

anonymous said:   13 16 17   ( shipping meme | accepting )

13. how easily would your muse get over a bad breakup?

     hmm. it would be easier than she should, but harder than she’d like. she and iain are together for seven years, from when she’s 16 to when she’s 23; it only takes her a couple of weeks to start sleeping with other people. she likes to insist that it’s fine, everything’s fine, she’s not heartbroken, she’s just inconvenienced. it’s a few hurt feelings and nothing more. even so, that’s after the breakup with iain, which she sees coming a mile away, which she knows needs to happen.

     if the breakup were with someone she loved more, someone with whom she had a stronger connection... honestly, i don’t know. i think she’d be shocked by how devastated she is, if this was someone she wholeheartedly trusted, and i think she’d have a very, very hard time coming to terms with it. for astoria, sex doesn’t have to equate to emotional intimacy, so she’d definitely have plenty of rebound sex, but i think it would take her a good long while to recover emotionally. it’s the matter of trying to heal without being willing to acknowledge how hurt she is, and the end result of that is always, always going to be that she stunts her own recovery. 

     the major exception to this would be if she had arranged the breakup herself — in which case, i think she tries to stunt her recovery, because she feels like she should be more devastated. 

16. does your muse believe in soulmates?

     nope !! not in the slightest. astoria thinks that love is a choice and it’s something you have to consciously work at; the idea that two people are destined for each other kind of spits in the face of that, as far as she’s concerned, and she thinks it takes away from the power of the choice itself.

     this gets slightly shaken when she meets draco; they click, in ways she does not click with anyone, and if soulmates are real, they would be soulmates. she does think that they simply choose to continue loving each other, but that they’re well-suited for it; she chooses him as her soulmate, and vice versa. but she does think there’s something a little bit magic to them.

17. would your muse forgive their partner for cheating on them?

     i really truly don’t know. if she didn’t particularly care for her partner, and it was a one-off, i think she could get past it; beyond that, i don’t know if she could. it’s never something i’ve really considered, and it’s something i should think about more.

#i. she had a marvelous time ruining everything. ( about ) #(thank you sweet pea !!!)

[kittae]

Bottoms Up

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x reader

Side characters: Min Yoongi, Jey

Summary: A drabble series where Taehyung is a successful artistic erotica actor but has to expand his areas of expertise in the rapidly evolving world of adult film. Lost and inexperienced in everything that doesn’t involve classy settings, flattering lighting and romantic scripts, he basically has to start from scratch to make it in the online porn community. As a highly demanded A-lister in that community, you take him under your wings (or better yet, between your legs).

Genre: Smut, fluff, a bit of comedy here and there. Maybe some angst, who knows.

words: 1368

Disclaimer: Slight alcohol intoxication, dialogue-heavy, foul language, both of them had too much to drink and are being annoying lmao

« previous — next »

“I trusted you! You’ve betrayed my trust!” Taehyung wails, dramatically flinging himself against the wall of Yoongi’s living room.

“Stop acting, you’re going to drain yourself.” Yoongi murmurs as he pours himself another drink. “Besides, why are you being like this in the first place? The shoot went better than expected, you should be celebrating with me instead of fake crying.”

“I’m not fake crying.”

“Yes, you are and you know what else you are?” Yoongi takes a sip of his whiskey, “Killing my buzz.”

Taehyung merely pouts, knowing his crocodile tears aren’t going to coax sympathy out of the slightly tipsy older man. “You should’ve discussed this with me in advance.”

“You know, I totally would’ve if you hadn’t been such a stubborn baby about the whole ordeal from the beginning. I could barely get you to agree to the shoot, heavens know how you would have reacted if I told you about the seminars.”

“You know what?” Taehyung scoffs, heated, “I’m sorry if I inconvenienced you by showing my true feelings towards your off-putting suggestions.”

Yoongi snorts, rolling his eyes and taking a rather large gulp from his glass.

“But I am who I am and I thought you supported me! You’re making plans behind my back instead.” Taehyung presses on, crossing his arms in displeasure. He didn’t come here with the intention of making a fuss considering everything went shockingly well today, yet he needs to make sure that Yoongi knows how he feels about the secretive way he handled things.

“If I don’t make plans behind your back sometimes, we’re not gonna get anywhere,” Yoongi calmly explains, gesturing with the crystal glass in his hand, “You only got to expand your boundaries today because I arranged it like that and that’s what being partners is all about.”

“No,” Taehyung slowly counters, “Being partners is about trust and honesty, which is the opposite of what you did today.”

“Noooo, I really don’t feel like arguing right now,” Yoongi groans as he slouches further into his padded couch, “Can’t we just hold hands and call it a day?”

Taehyung squeezes his eyes to slits, “Don’t try to bribe me into forgiving you, hyung.”

“Why not? You do it all the time.” The manager grumbles, reaching for the bottle to prevent his glass from getting empty.

After fiddling with the buttons of his silk, albeit questionably patterned shirt, Taehyung sighs and collects himself. He then goes over to Yoongi’s liquor cabinet to fetch a glass identical to that of his manager.

“What are you doing?” Yoongi asks, an amused look on his face.

Tae shrugs as he flops down next to his friend and plucks the bottle right out of his hand. “Getting a drink.”

“You hate alcohol.”

“Correct,” Taehyung responds matter-of-factly, “I just like the aesthetic of swirling scotch around in a crystal glass while I ponder over what you could do to get my trust back.”

Yoongi scoffs. “How about not kicking you out of my apartment? Sounds good?” He raises his brows, briefly letting the amber liquor tickle his tongue, savoring the slight burn when it hits his throat. “You’re here more than at your own place. You’re lucky I’m not charging you for rent and unwanted sleepovers.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Taehyung gasps.

“You are the only one allowed in my apartment and even you will lose your apartment privileges if you won’t quit it.” Yoongi warns seriously. “And those include storm cuddles and hurricane hangouts.”

Taehyung look absolutely horrified and gulps hard before taking a big swig of the whiskey in pure misery. Needless to say he instantly regrets it, the liquid too sharp and the vile taste of alcohol burning through his throat. He coughs dramatically as if he’d just drank poison, with Yoongi already on his way to the kitchen to get him a diet coke to wash it down –although not without an eyeroll or two.

“I swear you’re worse than a baby sometimes.” He sighs as he opens the can for his teary-eyed younger friend who reaches for the soda as if it’s his only lifeline. “Bet seeing you like this would burst more than a few bubbles of the women who love your films.”

Taehyung says nothing, too busy chugging the coke ad fundum. Only when any trace of the whiskey taste is gone, can he relax. And he does, with a big, content smile on his face.

“Love you, hyung. You know that, right?” He coos, nestling his head on the older man’s shoulder, who responds with a barely suppressed sound of disgust.

“Fuck’s sake Taehyung, did you get drunk from that one sip already?” Yoongi frets, exasperated.

“Sometimes... people w-won’t never adjust to changes.” Tae offers a vague explanation, followed by a hiccup as he makes himself cozy against his manager’s side to take a nap.

Yoongi gives up, sighing, simply patting the younger’s head and accepting his punishment. “Alright buddy.”

“–and then he just flipped a switch or something! Woah, you should’ve seen it, it was really incredible.” You conclude before you wash down the spicy food with some more beer.

“Yeah, it must’ve been...Seeing how it’s the only thing you could talk about for the past hour,” Jey chuckles, reaching for another snack. The dining tent is crowded this evening, lots of noise and ruckus of other drunk customers filling your ears while you talk.

“Ah, sorry… Do I talk about it too much?” You grimace.

“Nah, you’re fine,” she waves away your concern with a laugh, “It sounds like it was a whole experience. I’ve never seen him like that either so it is kind of fascinating to me to hear this.”

You gasp, snapping your fingers when you recall something. “Right! You once told me you sometimes work for him!”

She frowns. “Told you twice… Actually, Yoongi called me today asking for my help but I was booked.”

“Is he usually shy like that? When you fluff him? No, wait, not shy– Uh, you know, super careful?”

Jey full out laughs at your rambling now, “Honestly, I’ve never seen you so invested in one of your projects before.”

You pout at that, “Don’t call him that.”

“Oh my god, ___, are you in love with him or something? You’re creeping me out.” She pulls a face before cupping your hot cheeks with her palms. “Oh, nevermind. You’re just super drunk.”

Shrugging, you shake off her hands like a child, only to replace them with your own when you rest your chin in them, elbows on the wonky, iron table as you lean over to her, smiling wide. “I still haven’t seen his dick,” You whisper-shout and Jey snorts at your drunken obliviousness. “Tell me about it.”

“Alright, sweetie, you’re making it weird,” she flicks your forehead and you whine, “It wouldn’t be very professional of me if I told you, hmm? Besides, didn’t you binge his films last week? I think you have a good enough idea of what his dick looks like.”

“But I’m so frustrated!” Your whining gets louder and more heated as you put up your index finger and practically shove it in Jey’s face, “I just wanted to feel it once, Jey. Just once.”

“Time for some water I think,” Jey raises her eyebrows and calls the owner of the tent for a bottle, “I don’t get what you’re getting worked up about. He’s going to be taking your classes, right? You’ll have plenty of chances to suck his dick later so stop crying about it, jeez.”

You clap your hands and giggle, the alcohol really starting to get in your head, “That’s true! I can still suck his dick then!”

“Shhh!” A hand instantly comes to cover your mouth before you can say more. “You don’t have to shout! What’s wrong with you?!”

“Mmmight be getting a little bit tipsy,” you helpfully suggest as if she hasn’t been trying to sober you up since you started talking about Taehyung’s dick.

“No shit, really? After only six beers?” She jeers sarcastically while forcing the bottle of water against your lips, sighing in relief when you allow it and start swallowing. “Let’s get you home, messy girl.”

Heliotrope masterlist

#bts smut #bts scenarios #taehyung smut #bts fanfiction #bts #kim taehyung #kim taehyung fanfic #taehyung scenarios #v smut #bts v #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #bts fanfic

[reylo-trash-4ever]

The Game Part 4

LOLOLOL so it’s been years and I bet everyone thinks I’ve fallen off the face of the earth but no bitch, I still live. Quarantine has given me time to write so whoo hoo!! Also, I will for sure be trying to set up an Ao3 account in the near future and that will most likely be my new main source to post this story, so look out for that!

In the mean time, please enjoy the newest installment, and sorry it’s so short. As always, shout outs go to my lovely and wonderful queen beans @scav-eng-er and @mojona1999. Y’all are the GREATEST! Happy Star Wars Day everyone and May the 4th be with you! 

The Game: Chapter 4 Rating: PG 

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to get my stolen laptop back.” Rey spoke matter-of-factly, her arms crossed over her chest and a defiant look in her eyes as she stared unblinkingly, and unwaveringly, up at Ben.

“I told you, you’d get it back tomorrow,” Ben responded, leaning on the left side of the doorway and blocking any possible entry. 

“Yeah, that’s what you wanted, but I decided on something different, so… here I am.” 

Rey started out strong, her voice fierce and determined, but she began to doubt herself and feel the weight of his amused gaze getting under her skin once again. She felt awkward standing there without moving, his tall frame towering over her in that intimidating way that she hated. 

“And what exactly did you decide?” Ben challenged, raising an eyebrow incredulously at her.

“Let me in and I’ll tell you.” Rey knew it was a long shot, but she was banking on his curiosity to take over common sense and meet her demands. Or maybe she was playing towards the pride he obviously had too much of, either way, she knew she was taking a risk. 

Ben’s amused smirk slowly fell from his lips and he didn’t try to hide the annoyed and inconvenienced look that followed. Rey held her breath, waiting for him to slam the door in her face or to yell at her for being so insubordinate, but instead, he let out the smallest of huffs and stepped aside. She took that as her cue to go in and nodded her thanks as she walked past him. 

Rey didn’t know what she expected his place to look like, but it certainly wasn’t this. She probably had some idea of a classic ‘rich boy penthouse’ apartment filled with luxuries that no one really needed, like game tables, a hot tub, racks on racks of expensive liquors, but she was wrong. A few steps down the small entryway hall led into a spacious living area with floor to ceiling, tinted glass windows that lined one side of the wall. Further to her left, Rey spotted an open kitchen with a small island in the middle. To her right was another hallway that most likely led to a master bedroom and bathroom. Another ajar door revealed what looked like a study, or some kind of office space. The decor was minimalistic, but definitely nice. Black leather sofas, a massive flat screen television, and marble countertops were just the most noticeable displays of wealth, although she could only assume there were plenty more not as easily seen. 

Truth be told, the place had a bit of charm to it. If you could call that uneasy ‘bring one spec of dirt into my home and you’ll be punished’ feeling “charm”. It was more like a picture perfect apartment, something you might see in a magazine. 

“So, are you ever going to stop ogling or are you finally going to tell me what you’re really doing here?” 

Rey turned over her shoulder and looked back at Ben, who was pushing the door closed behind him. It shut with a click and Rey felt her breath hitching in her throat again. Her plan was shaky, and being alone with a stranger in his apartment was only the beginning of how dangerous this could get. She couldn’t believe she was putting her job, and the possible promotion, at such a risk as this, but there was something about the opportunity that she couldn’t resist. 

“Well, Ben,” Rey began as she walked further into the room, pretending to keep her attention anywhere but on him and knowing that if she didn’t, he might see right through her ruse, “you obviously think I’m an idiot and incapable of keeping up with your ‘oh so wonderful’ self.” 

Rey paused to wait for his reaction, but he only raised an eyebrow and cocked his head slightly to the right in defense. She took his silence as a cue to continue. 

“Why else would you have given me your laptop after already taking mine? you could have easily just walked off with both and left me on my own, so what would you gain by giving me a key piece in learning more about you? Well, that’s when I realized that the answer was probably nothing, and I highly doubt you’re the kind of man who does anything if there isn’t something in it for him. So, then I thought that the laptop switch might be one big show to try and keep me off the trail of what you’re really planning.

“But then I came over here, and from the look of things,” Rey scanned around the room again, letting her watchful eyes linger in the direction of the bedroom and then the front door, “you were a little ‘preoccupied’ to be doing any real work at this point.” 

“So, you two met after all?” Ben asked, taking the opportunity while she was in between thoughts to make his way closer to where she now stood. He moved past her and bent down, opening a drawer and pulling out the bottle of wine he intended on having by himself. 

“We didn’t, and it’s really none of my business,” Rey said quickly, dismissing her interest and his curiosity on how she might have reacted to his personal life, “I just thought you’d be going through my laptop to get more information on me, since you went through all the trouble of taking it. Except, I can see that my bag lays untouched over on your end table, which means you haven’t even opened it. Why is that?” 

While she spoke, Ben walked to some cabinets with see through glass doors above his sink and took a long stemmed glass from them. He returned to the counter and popped the bottle, pouring himself a healthy amount of the dark liquid. Finally, when Rey finished with her question, he returned his attention back to her and gave her a smirk. 

“Because I already know everything there is to know about you, sweetheart,” Ben replied, tipping his glass towards her in a mocking salute before taking a sip. 

“I told you to stop calling me that,” Rey snapped, not missing a beat, “and there’s no way that could be true. You can’t learn every aspect about a person through just the internet and newspapers, that’s just ridiculous. Especially in our profession, genuine human interaction and connection makes all the difference in how a person will act or behave. And you, of all people, should know that as a lawyer, it’s our responsibility to find that out for ourselves. It’s why we have to have such personal relationships with our clients.”

“But I’m not your client, Rey, I’m your superior,” Ben said slowly. His voice dropped to an almost threatening level as he leaned both elbows on the counter across from her, making them finally at eye level. She stared defiantly back, refusing to be scared off. 

“Except that you’re also supposed to be my partner,” Rey said, tilting her head and giving him a sickly sweet smile, “Partners don’t have anything to hide and don’t go behind each other’s backs. They put the client first and they get what they want by working together.” 

Ben squinted at her reproachfully, and took another sip of his wine that he still refused to politely offer to his guest. 

“What are you suggesting?” 

“Total honestly. At least, while I’m here, you can ask me anything you want and I promise to answer it with the truth. But you have to do the same with me. It eliminates any reason to doubt each other or to think that one of us is working against the other. We’ll both get what we need to know, and we don’t have to go snooping around each other’s personal items to get there. It’s a win-win situation, and this way we save the most time and energy so we can get to working on the real case as soon as possible.”

Rey watched Ben listen to her, and she could tell that there were many points where he wanted to argue, but she must have kept his interest long enough, because he let her finish.  

“And how will I know you’re telling me the actual truth?” Ben questioned, standing up to his full height and looking down on her once again. 

“Because I’m a terrible liar, and you’ll see right through me if I do.” Rey shrugged her shoulders and looked away, trying to sell the ‘innocent’ look as best as she could. She really was telling the truth though, she may be as sneaky and stealthy as a Black Cat, but she wasn’t as clever as one. 

“How can you be bad at lying if you want to be a lawyer?” Ben scoffed with a smirk. 

“Because I win my cases by being right.” 

It was Rey’s turn to lean in and she looked up at Ben through her long, dark lashes. He wanted to speak, to make some retort about how ridiculously childish her and her ideals sounded, but something about those intensely dark eyes made him want to play along. He couldn't explain it, but she intrigued him. He had to give her that. 

“Fine, I’ll play your little game,” Ben said, and Rey let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding on to, “Except, if I’m going to do something so asinine, we’re going to need to make it a little more enjoyable.” 

By the glint in his eye, Rey was hesitant to let anything be on his terms, but she knew that if her plan was to work, she’d have to keep playing into his arrogance a little. It wasn’t very hard seeing as he had a lot of it. 

“How do you suppose we do that?” Rey asked. 

“Alcohol,” Ben said simply. He turned his back to Rey and bent to retrieve another bottle from the cabinet. 

“Too bad I’m not a big wine fan,” Rey muttered, mostly to herself, but Ben must have heard because he swung back around and placed the bottle rather loudly on the counter. 

“Oh, it’s not wine,” he chuckled, “this is a particular brand of bourbon that happens to be my favorite. Care to join me for a drink?” 

Rey could hear the sarcasm in his voice, and the joke of the situation wasn’t lost on her seeing as she was already in his home and already agreeing to have the drink. She simply widened her eyes, took a deep breath, and shrugged an ‘okay’ with the shake of her head. Ben nodded once and grabbed more glasses from the kitchen. When he came back he directed them towards the living area taking a seat on the longer of the two couches. Rey sat across from him on the very edge of a large arm chair, ready to bounce up and make a break for it if she had to. 

Ben, on the other hand, leaned back comfortably. One of his impossibly long legs reached over the other, his calf resting on the opposite knee. Even sitting down, he couldn’t hide his body's sheer length. Rey noticed the bottle and glasses on the table between them and took his lounging as an indicator that she was supposed to pour the drinks. 

She fought the urge to roll her eyes. She wasn’t his maid and he was perfectly capable of getting his own, but she did as she was expected anyway. Let him think she was just another woman willing to do his bidding. Any and all “sucking up” she could fake in this moment would give her the upper hand. 

“So, what are the ‘rules’ to this game, exactly?” Ben asked, as she passed him a glass with one shot full of the slight smokey smelling liquid. He took it, his hands wrapping around hers for an instant, and Rey felt a weird spark of energy pass between them. She recoiled, but not before seeing him tense up. 

The moment was over in an instant and Ben acted like nothing had happened. He looked to the glass now in his hands and swirled the liquid, waiting for her to respond to his earlier question.

“Okay, it’s a simple drinking game mechanic, really,” Rey said, pouring herself the exact same amount, “you ask me a question, and I have to answer. If you think I’m lying, you can challenge it. If I am, I have to drink.”

“Ah, so you do lie.”

“I said if I lie, then I drink. If you’re wrong about the challenge, then you have to take the shot.” 

Ben shifted in his seat and squinted at her again in the way she was beginning to recognize as trying to figure her out. She found herself loving the idea that he didn’t know as much about her as he thought, and her chest puffed out in pride. Ben huffed a short laugh and leaned further back. 

“Well then, one for good measure?” He lifted his glass.

“And for poor judgement?” Rey teased, a smile on her own lips despite herself. 

“Exactly,” Ben said, tilting his drink slightly towards her, “cheers.”

#star wars #reylo #reylo fanfic #my writing #rey nobody #rey #just rey #rey of jakku #ben solo #kylo ren #bendemption #bring ben back #may the 4th #may the 4th be with you #sw #the last jedi #the force awakens #the rise of skywalker #the sequals #ben x rey #rey x ben #reylo love #reylo writing #reylo is canon #star wars fanfic #star wars fanfiction #reylo au #reylo modern #star wars au #star wars modern au

[brattywriters-anonymous]

This Way..Two

Part VI (and the Valentine’s Day special) of the “I’m Never Wrong” Series.

Erik x (Black!)Reader

Fic Playlist: Back in One Piece x DMX feat. Aaliyah, This Way x Khalid feat. H.E.R, Gonna Love Me x Teyana Taylor, You Got Me x The Roots feat. Erykah Badu

She’s like a surrogate mother to him that he needs in his life to keep him balanced. He’s become a better man since reconciling his differences with her. “Congratulations N’jadaka. I’m happy for you.” He turns his attention to me, “I’m happy for us. This is what we’ve wanted since we’ve gotten married. It’s taken me longer than expected..but now I’m able to be closer to our family.” I look down, poking my fork at my piece of watermelon, “Yeah, you are.”

You, Erik, and the kids arrive at the border just before the sun reaches it’s peak for the day. W’kabi and Okoye are awaiting in their yard. “Welcome!” The couple bow to the family. N’jadaka waives it off, “No need for that bro! Thanks for having us. It’s Leanna and N’Juma’s first time here. We’re tryna show them around Wakanda. This is our first stop!”

Okoye’s smile is almost as wide as the vast land among them, “There’s no better place to start than our border land!” She kneels to level with Leanna, “You wanna see Buhle?” Leanna gives her a puzzling reaction, “Who is Buhle?” W’kabi interjects behind Okoye, “Our Rhino!” She corrects him, “Our baby, that happens to be a Rhino!” LeeLee takes a deep gasp, “A Rhino!? Cool! Let’s go!” She takes the General’s hand and follows her to the valley. W’kabi stretches his arms out of his blue knitted shawl, “May I?” You hand him your son, N’juma exposes his bottom two teeth, “Let’s go see a Rhino, Omnye.”

Yourself and Erik look at the pastures from the couple’s porch. Leanna is giving Buhle belly rubs and N’juma is clapping at the sights. 

“Our mission went left the day before I was due to return.” Erik confesses, looking straight forward. “Nakia and I were made and.. We had to fight our way out of our location, and go under the grid to protect our families. It wasn’t right that I neglected all of you for that long, but it was for your safety.” He tilts his head in your children’s direction, “For their safety.” Your face softens, you’re attempting to put a poker face on to hide your guilt for holding all of the animosity you have for the past six months. “’Ja.. I’m sorr-” “No need, love. You didn’t know. I just would’ve thought that you thought I was gone instead of thinking I left though. I would never leave you. Especially not at the drop of a dime, with no notice.”

You shoot him an apprehensive brow, “Oh, so you’ll let me know if you were leaving, huh?” He smiles back at her, “If I ever felt the need to leave, yeah. But I don’t, Don’t think I ever will.” Your gaze shoots to the grass as you slightly grin at his smart ass response. “I know I got some time to make up for. But first, I gotta make up some of that time to them.” You nod, “I agree. They come first.” 

--

A few hours pass and you pack up the Wrangler and laying blankets out in the backseat for your family’s next conquest. “How long is gonna take for us to get there?” Erik peers up at the mountains, “About a hour. You got Leanna’s snack out? You know how fickle she gets when she’s hungry!” You hold out a small ziplock bag with her sliced apples, “Yup. I got baby boy’s formula too.”

--

“Look mommy! It’s snowing! Are we still in Wakanda?” You turn your attention to the backseat, “Yeah baby, we’re still in Wakanda. This is Jabariland. One of the four tribes we told you about.” Leanna wraps up in her blanket, “I love it!” 

N’jadaka parks the car at a modern cabin, “Wow, this is nice. Aren’t we going back to the city?” He cuts the ignition off, “We are. These munchkins are staying with Nakia and T’Challa for the night.”

“’Ja, It’s Valentine’s Day. Why would they be babysitting?” As if you conjured them up, they emerge from the house, “Because....” The couple look at one another before divulging in unison, “We’re pregnant.” Nakia gives you a side profile of her pregnant belly, “I found out while we were under the radar. I’m six months!” You gasp in awe, you were so angry when she pulled up with N’jadaka that you didn’t even notice that she was carrying then. “Wow Nakia! T’Challa! Congratulations!” You hug Nakia as N’jadaka hugs his cousin, then you trade embraces. T’challa proudly exclaims, “Thank you Y/N. We need all of the practice we can get, so, Leanna! Moana and chill tonight?” Leanna happily agrees and you all go out to enjoy the rest of the daylight in the snow.

--

The sun set in the hour’s past and between the four adults, you wore your kids down. By the time Nakia got the kids dressed for bed, N’Juma was ready for his bottle and rubbing his eyes, Leanna was sprawled out on the couch like she worked an eight hour shift. You and N’jadaka didn’t leave the pair too much else left to do besides put them in their room to sleep.

N’jadaka told you that he had something special planned and your outfit was already packed. You arrive at what seems like a small bungalow on the river, N’jadaka escorts you out of the Wrangler and hands you your bag, “Here’s your stuff, I packed your makeup bag too just in case. I’ll be in the living room waiting for you, okay Y/N?” You nod. He plants a tender kiss on your forehead as you head in the house. You navigate through the home until you find the bedroom, giving you a full panoramic view of the umlambo ojikelezayo 

You pull your Oscar de la Renta gown out of the wardrobe bag he gave you. You whistle before adding, “That man has taste.” You quickly wash up and get dressed and decided on a glowing makeup look, with gold highlighter, and a plum lip. Taking a final look in the mirror, and fluffing your curls out, you take a deep breath, prepared for the night. You step out to find your husband adjusting his blazer and dusting himself off. You find yourself doing the same, flaring out the bottom of your ensemble. N’jadaka raises his head and his mouth hangs ajar.

He stands before you, speechless. All he could do is exhale and continue his observation of you in awe. You reach your hand out for his, he breaks the silence after grasping it and placing a kiss on your palm. “You look phenomenal this evening Mrs.” “Why thank you. You do too Mr.”

--

N’jadaka set up an intimate dinner on the river. The only person that is in attendance besides the two of you is the lone server. You look around questioning, “How are we gonna eat ‘Ja?” He pulls your chair out, gets you seated and retorts, “I’m cooking tonight.” You chuckle as if Kevin Hart himself is sitting before you, “You? Cook? Who are you and where’s my husband? ‘Cause you are clearly a clone!”

The server brings a bottle of 1998 Dom Perignon Platinum, N’jadaka pours your glass then his, “I took up cooking when I couldn’t leave my secure location for six months. Your husband is right here, baby. I guess I gotta remind dat ass, don’t I?” You turn your blushing face to the beautiful lakeside view, “Maybe you do..” He steals a sip from the bottle, “Hold that thought baby, I gotta cook right now. We gon pick this conversation back up though.” You nod as he trails off to the back.

--

Erik returns to the table with two curry spiced ten ounce salmons topped with rice and veggies. You’re pleasantly surprised at the presentation, “OMG! Looka here! My husband can actually cook now!” Erik rolls his eyes, “Yeah, Yeah! Y/N. Keep talkin’ that shit while you bask in the deliciousness that is this meal that I whipped up.” You take a second look at the dish, “You take a bite first. I’m tryna make sure I don’t croak over thanks to the deliciousness that is your meal!” Your final statement you sarcastically mock your counterpart. He picks up his fork, scoops up some rice and cuts through the salmon, then consumes it. Never breaking his gaze toward you, “This shit hittin Y/N.” You huff as you take a small bite off of your plate, “This is actually good ‘Ja.” “I know, Y/N!” He matches your matter of fact tone.

“So what has my wife been up to that has her so upset with me? I could tell it wasn’t just my absence that attributed to the wrath I faced when I got back.” “Well.. A couple of weeks after you disappeared, I went from full time to remote part time.” “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to before then?” You shake your head before continuing the consumption of your food, “Because, I thought that by the time I started that you would be home, for good.”

N’jadaka head hangs low, sighing with regret in his voice, “Damn babe, I’m sorry.” “It’s fine. Being in that office for eight to eleven hours a day was starting to drive me crazy. Plus I was missing my babies too much. However, as much as I adore your big headed dimpled clones, I do need a break from them sometimes.” N’jadaka adds, “And the lack of grandparents, aunties, and uncles being around on both of our ends serve as a disadvantage.” You peer into his eyes as he goes on, “Plus T’Challa and Shuri aren’t always available. And Ramonda is usually due to stay in Wakanda due to ‘Cha’s usual absence..” He grasps your hand above the table, “Yes. All of what you said. I don’t like inconveniencing my mom and dad from living out their retirement. My brothers are busy being parents themselves and lightning the load on their partners.. I really didn’t have anyone to call on on a regular basis to get away.”

N’jadaka rounds the table to kneel and embrace you, “I know. I know. If I could’ve returned home without endangering you all, I would’ve. I love you, forreal. You and the kids are all I got. So know that I mean what I say when I tell you that.” With the tears wallowing up in your eyes you exhale deeply, “I love you too baby. I’m sorry I blew up on you like that instead of communicating like I should’ve. It was immature of me.” “It’s fine baby. You don’t gotta apologize for it. I deserved it.” You shake your head profusely, holding back your tears, “No. No you didn’t. I didn’t know you were protecting us. I should’ve known that! All these years we’ve been together, I should’ve known that! That’s all you’ve been doing from day one, you’ve been protecting me, then the kids when they came along.”

Hesitantly, your husband takes your face in his hands, and clashes his lips with yours. The kiss that you’ve been missing for so long, the kisses that invaded your dreams night in and night out for six months has come to fruition. You two take your time to feel the softness of one another’s lips, a single tear slopes down your cheek. N’jadaka pulls apart from you, “Damn, I missed that.” You snicker before agreeing, “Me too, love.” He randomly takes a hold of your phone, “Uhm, what are you doing Stevens?” He continues scrolling through your device until he finds what he’s searching for, “I wanna see what you been listening to. I know you spew out your feelings through the music you listen to..” Before you could object, he presses play.

You left me this scar on my heart When I'd never take it that far (oh) Why would you say that it was true love If true love is absolute, what more can I say?

Erik stands back up, studying the lyrics word for word as he reaches for your hand, “C’mon.” You take a hold of his as he embraces you for a dance. He holds you as close as he can, and even then, he still tries to pull you closer as your sway to the slow tempo.

What more can I say? You make me this way (You make me this way) What more can I say? (What can I say?) You make me this way

I tried to stay the night You won't let me inside Oh, you push me away You'll never change Just another fight Between you and your pride Oh, what more can I say? What more can I? What more can I say? (Say) You make me this way You make me this way What more can I say? What more? You make me this way (way) “Damn, Y/N. I had you feeling like this?” You look up at him with such an innocent stare as you nod, he continues, “Hm. Well I see daddy got some making up to do.” “Damn right you do.”

--

The remainder of your dinner the two of you spend dancing the night away to your recently played songs, The night ends on a high note, Erik recites the lyrics of “You Got Me” in your ear,

If you were worried 'bout where I been or who I saw or What club I went to with my homies Baby, don't worry You know that you got me Yo, I'm the type that's always catching a flight And sometimes I gotta be out at the height of the night..

#erik killmonger #erik killmonger x reader #erik killmonger x yn #erik killmonger x you #erik killmonger imagine #erik killmonger imagines #erik killmonger fanfiction #erik killmonger fanfic #erik killmonger fandom #erik killmonger fluff #erik killmonger angst #erik stevens #erik stevens x reader #erik stevens x you #erik stevens x yn #erik stevens imagine #erik stevens imagines #erik stevens fanfiction #erik stevens fanfic #erik stevens fandom #erik stevens fluff #erik stevens angst #black panther fanfiction #black panther imagine #black panther imagines #black panther au #black panther fluff #black panther angst #black panther x you #black panther x yn

[blueymoons]

Roadside Assistance

For my @lulacat3, who asked for “It’s OK. I couldn’t sleep anyway.” from the One Hundred Ways To Say ‘I Love You’ prompt list. 

Cormoran was blasted from sleep, at two o’clock in the morning, by the guitar solo from Free Bird.

His partner, Robin, had finally gotten around to teaching him how to download music and set songs as ringtones. He’d immediately set the ringer for her calls to Free Bird.

“I had to,” he’d shrugged when she’d protested. “You’re named for a bird and, well…” He’d left the rest unsaid, but since the divorce paperwork had gone through earlier that week, technically she was now a “free bird”.

Robin had rolled her eyes at him but said nothing further. Though as she’d turned away he thought he’d seen a small grin quirking the corner of her mouth.

As the guitar solo swelled he swept the phone from the shelf he’d hung above his bed and jabbed the green button, “Robin? You OK?”

“I am. I’m fine.” Her voice was pitched high to allow him to hear her over a pounding bass beat and thrumming synthesizers. “I’ve just finished tailing Hawk Eye and the Land Rover has a dead battery. I came back into the club I tailed him to and asked the security if someone might be able to give me a jump, but they can’t.” She blew out a frustrated breath. “I wouldn’t call this late, but I don’t want to leave the Rover parked down here and I can’t afford a tow. Is there any chance…”

“Where are you?” he interrupted. AS soon as he'd grasped the situation he’d started getting himself together, sliding his gel pad back over his stump and then sliding his prosthesis over that. Pulling up the jeans he’d removed a few hours ago before switching the phone to speakerphone and setting it back on the shelf, so he could tug on his t-shirt and jumper.

“It’s a place called Fabric. It’s in Clerkenwell.” The bass beat and synth had receded as she’d talked, replaced by the sound of heels on pavement.

“Did you leave the club?” He barked. He hated when she was out late. He especially hated when she was out late and walking on the streets alone.

“I did. I could barely hear you in there.” The sound of her footsteps had stopped. “I’m just heading back to the truck.”

“Where is it parked?” He shrugged on his coat, grabbed his wallet and keys and started down the stairs.

“Corner of Grand Avenue and Charterhouse Street.” She was shivering now. Her teeth chattering slightly as she spoke.

“OK. I’m on my way,” he said as he swung out of the building. “Get to the truck and lock yourself in. I’ll call you back once I’m on the road.”

“Roger that.”

He walked as briskly as he could to the garage he kept the BMW stored in, coat flapping, breath clouding in the air around him. As he walked he used his phone to pull up the GPS directions to Fabric and committed the route to memory. He reached the BMW and slid into the driver’s seat, plugged the phone into the USB cable that would connect it to the radio and rang Robin back.

She picked up on the second ring. “I’m here.”

“I’m on the road. Are you locked in?”

“I am. I’ve got one of the blankets over me and I’m fine.” She paused, sniffed. “I’m just sorry to wake you up for this.”

“It’s OK. I couldn’t sleep anyway.” He didn’t often lie to Robin. She was too good at seeing through him. He didn’t know why he lied now, except that he didn’t want her to feel guilty for needing his help. He wanted her to feel she could call him anytime. For anything. He didn’t enjoy the idea of Robin being in a situation like this, but he wasn’t above being pleased that he was the one she called in an emergency.

And if knowing he was that person for her made his chest swell with masculine pride, no one needed to know that but him.  

“Really? You were out the entire night last night tailing Hawk Eye. I know you must have been tired.” He could hear the skepticism in her tone.

“Yes really.” He tried to sound exasperated. She knew him too well. “I was wide awake.” He hastily pulled down the visor mirror while he waited at a traffic signal and checked his face to make sure there were no tell-tale pillow creases. He glanced at his hair but decided, with a shrug, that it looked like it usually did. Messy.

“Well I appreciate you coming out in the cold to help me like this. I’m sorry to have to drag you out.” He could hear the shivers in her voice getting stronger. He eyed his speedometer as he sped up.

“It’s not a problem. You’d do it for me.” Except that he’d never call her and cause her to come out like this for him. He’d walk through a blizzard if it meant she stayed safe and warm.

“’Course I would.” He could almost see her nodding. “Except that you’d never call me if this happened to you. I know better.” She chuckled at his non-committal grunt at that. “I know how you are, Cormoran. You’d call Nick or Shanker instead of me.”

“But only because…”

“I know,” she interrupted. “And I appreciate it. Never let it be said that chivalry is dead. Not while Cormoran Strike walks the Earth.”

He barked out a laugh as he turned onto Grand Avenue. “Well, your peg legged knight in tarnished armor has arrived.” He disconnected the call and then pulled up in front of the hood of the Land Rover and backed the BMW as close as he could get to the bumper.

Robin joined him on the pavement as he opened the boot of his car. She’d left the blanket in the Land Rover and was now shivering hard enough for her teeth to chatter even with her mouth shut. As he looked her over he mentally shook his head.

She was wearing black pants that were skin tight, showing every curve of her long legs and ending at her ankles. Her narrow feet appeared to be bare and were tucked into black pumps with heels high enough to put her forehead at his nose. There was the bottom of what appeared to be a thickly woven pewter blue jumper draping below her thin black peacoat. She had a grey scarf wrapped around her neck, almost up to her nose. Strands of her bright hair were escaping from the scarf she’d wrapped around it and blowing in the bitterly cold wind rushing down the street. Her nose was red, and her hands were stuck in the pockets of her coat, but he could see she wasn’t wearing gloves. He supposed she'd dressed so that she'd fit in at the clubs Hawk Eye liked to frequent.

“Climb in the car. The heater’s warmed up. I’ll take care of this.” He gestured to the passenger seat of the BMW as he extracted his jumper cables from the boot. Robin hesitated but with a firm nudge and a growled, “Go,” she gave in and slid into the warm interior of the car.

He stalked around to the driver’s side of the truck and tugged the door open, stooping down to pull the hood release, and grabbing the blanket she’d left laying on the front seat before slamming the door shut. He tossed the blanket into the boot of his car as he uncapped the battery terminals and clamped the jumper cable ends onto them and then stepped over and clamped them to the terminals of the Land Rover’s battery.

As he heard his car idle down a bit, with the strain of charging the Land Rover’s battery, he snatched up the blanket from his boot and opened the driver’s side door of his car and sank back down into the seat. He tossed the blanket into Robin’s lap and then leaned over the center console, resting his forearm on her leg briefly as he opened the glove compartment and removed a pair of woolen mittens he’d tossed there after his last trip home to St. Mawes.

“Here, put these on.” He handed them to Robin, who tugged them over her hands immediately. “Aunt Joan knitted them, and I’d forgotten I had them in there until now.”

“Th…Th..Thanks.” Robin stuttered through clattering teeth.

“We’ll give it a little while to charge you up and then see if it starts.” He glanced over at her still shivering form. Her face was cast in shadow, but he could see the glint of the street light at the corner reflecting in her eyes as she looked at him. Her face was pale in the dimness. Her breathing quiet but still marred by her shivers.

“You warming up any?” he asked softly as he watched her.

“A little.” Her voice was slightly muffled by the scarf she still had wrapped around her face. “I’m so sorry Cormoran,” she started.

“Stop,” he interrupted her. “You couldn’t know this would happen. And I’d much rather you call me than some nameless roadside assistance person.”

She glanced down, drawing his attention to the mitten covered hands she was twisting together in her lap anxiously. Seeing those hands twisting he wondered if she'd had to hear lectures from Matthew in previous circumstances like this.

He leaned over again and laid his left hand over hers. “Robin? Look at me.” She slowly raised her eyes to meet his. The air around them shifted. Became charged with intensity.

“I’d never leave you stranded anywhere.” His eyes focusing on her face intently. “And I’d be infuriated if I found out you’d called a stranger instead of me, just because you’re afraid of inconveniencing me.” He continued softly. He held her gaze as he felt one of her hands turn over under his. Her palm now pressing against his through the thick wool. Her eyes were smiling at him over the scarf now and unconsciously he leaned closer as he continued, “I’m your partner and your friend. You’re supposed to be able to rely on me in situations like this. Stop apologizing. OK?”

She nodded as she raised the hand not pressed against his to lower the scarf and leaned toward him. She pressed her cold cheek against his warm one and turned her head slightly so that her lips, also cold, pressed lightly to his cheek. He heard the sound of her kiss against his cheek and expected her to draw back, but she stayed there, her cheek resting against his. No, rubbing against his.

No would else would have been able to resist doing what he did next. No other man could have sat in that car with her, smelling her light scent, feeling her mittened hand grasping theirs, with her cheek pressed sweetly to theirs, and resisted turning their head into her neck.

Her gasp as he pressed his face to her neck between the scarf and the underside of her jaw was one of pleasure. He was sure of it. But he paused, staying just where he was, breathing the scent of her skin, her jaw pressed against his cheekbone.

Her left hand, bare now, slid to the back of his head. He could feel her cold fingers slipping through his curls, as her head tilted toward the back of the seat, allowing him to burrow deeper into her.

He reached up to tug her scarf further down, baring more of her neck to his lips, murmuring, “What are we doing?” as he nuzzled and kissed the warm skin revealed to him.

“Shh,” she said in a sighing whisper, “Just don’t stop.”

He drew back, feeling her hand slide from his hair to his shoulder, and looked at her. Her eyes were closed, eyebrows raised as though she was waiting for something, for him. As her lashes started to flutter open he raised his right hand and slid his fingers into the hair at her nape, using his thumb to tilt her chin back, raising her lips into the perfect position for his to meet.

Her lips were still cool, but they warmed quickly under his. His thumb began stroking her jaw, fingers tangling in the warm hair he’d longed to touch for ages.

Her taste was new and yet familiar. He’d never kissed her before, despite the number of times he’d wanted to, but somehow, he felt as though he had. Her mouth was soft and warm on his. It felt perfect and right, kissing her this way. Her tongue was gentle and curious as it swept out and brushed against his lower lip, searching for his.

He groaned quietly and gently broke away from her.

“What are we doing?”

“You’re kissing me,” she sighed. “Finally.” She grinned at him.

“Finally?” He was genuinely baffled.

“Yes,” she said firmly. “Finally. Though you do keep stopping and that’s rather frustrating.” She grinned at him.

“Oh, excuse me. I’ll just,” He motioned to her with an index finger.

“Mmmm yes. Please do,” she whispered as his drew her closer, this time crushing his lips to hers, aroused beyond thought at the idea that she’d been wanting this.

He kissed her deeply. His tongue exploring her mouth the way he’d only ever dreamt of.

He kissed her sweetly. Lips pressing first to her top lip and then to her bottom, before moving to the corner of her mouth.

As he swept kisses along her cheeks she whispered, “I’ve wondered,” a gasp as he nibbled her earlobe, “So many times what your lips felt like.”

“Have you really?” he rasped into her ear before exploring the patch of skin below it.

“Yes.” She tilted her head again, this time in the other direction, so that he could graze his teeth long her neck.

“Why did you never say anything?”

“Mmmm. I like that.” Her voice was dreamy. She was so soft against his mouth. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Her question stopped him. He rested his chin on her shoulder and sighed before laying his head against hers. His fingers massaged the base of her skull, her hair slipping through and tangling around them.

He couldn’t prevaricate now.

Now it would be the truth. She, this, was too important to attempt to hide anything anymore.

“I’ve wanted this for so long Robin.” He sat slightly back to look at her face. “You were engaged when I first met you. Then you left him, and I thought, maybe, if I gave you time…” He trailed off and shook his head as she opened her mouth, “But you went back to him and I understood. How could I not, after Charlotte? But then at the wedding, holding you on the stairs,” he glanced down. “I didn’t want to let you go. I wanted to ask you to come with me.”

“I would have,” she burst in. “Oh Cormoran, I would have.” She leaned her forehead onto his shoulder. “I’d have left right then.”

“You’d just married him Robin. I had to assume you wanted to be with him.” He could hear the anguish in his voice. The remembered pain of holding her that night, the way her arms had clutched him, and he could almost smell the roses that had been in her hair, again. She lifted her head from his shoulder, but her hand had started to stroke his arm, soothing him.

“I got so pissed that weekend. I hid in a cheap motel, from the press.” She raised an eyebrow in a silent question, “I couldn’t be around Ilsa feeling as I did. Not having just lost you. She’d have seen through me immediately.” He shrugged. “So I found a motel and I got completely pissfaced. I hadn’t been that pissed since,” he paused to think. “Well, since everything happened with my mom.”

“It doesn’t matter now.” She shook her head, despite the tears gathering in her eyes and reached for him again. “It doesn’t.” She pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “We know now. That’s what matters.”

He nodded and smoothed her hair with a soft slide of his hand. “We need to check the truck,” he whispered reluctantly.

She gasped and laughed, “I’d forgotten all about it.” She pressed another kiss to his lips before sitting back, hand lifting to the door handle, then pausing and turning back to him, “Will you come home with me tonight?”

“If you want me to,” he said quietly.

“I want you to.” She smiled at him. A blindingly brilliant smile filled with hope and excitement. And then she opened the door and scampered out into the cold.

He climbed out and followed her, hands in his coat pockets, watching her hop into the front seat of the truck and then smiling as he heard the engine roar to life.

He disconnected the jumper cables and stowed them back in his boot, then as he closed the hood of the truck her felt her step up next to him.

He took her hand and raised it to his lips, then used it to tug her against him.

He hugged her close for a moment, pressing a kiss to the top of her red gold hair, before releasing her reluctantly and watching her slide back into the truck.

As he walked back to his car and got behind the wheel, watched her pull out from behind him and start the drive to her flat, he smiled.

The woman just never stopped surprising him.

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