#then she just dismissed me and didn’t walk me back to my cubicle or anything lol. but i found it okay

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Boss From Hell

Summary: After Hell rose up under the rule of Boyking Sam and took over the earth, the reader has found herself working for Hell Corp and trying to be as productive an employee as possible to save herself from death. When she gets a call to meet with Sam himself though, he has a new job for her, one involving seducing his demon brother...

Pairing: Demon!Dean x reader

Word Count: 3,700ish

Warnings: language, threats, smut, angst

A/N: Enjoy!

_______

“Y/N. Sam would like to see you in his office,” said your boss, Todd. You swallowed, frozen in your seat. “Sweetie the longer you take the bigger odds he kills more slowly.”

“Right,” you said with a nod. “Um I’m almost wrapped up with the Johnson file but it’s final touches on the charts if you can do that after I’m, you know, dead.”

“Of course. I look forward to working together with you as a demon again,” he said. You swallowed and stood, Todd smiling. “All you humans are always so concerned about that. Trust me, this is better.”

“Looking forward...to it,” you said as you left your cubicle. Todd rubbed your shoulder before you went down the hall and out to the elevators. You were barely able to press the button down without shaking like a leaf. The doors shut quickly and you went down to the ground floor, quickly rushing over to a pair of large wooden doors where two demons in suits waited outside. They opened the doors for you and you forced yourself to step into the room.

It was no office. It had a lone chair and smelled faintly of blood. The doors shut behind you and you felt a presence close by.

“Y/N, isn’t it?” said Sam, his voice coming from directly to your right. He had a dark smile on his face as he walked in front of you.

“Yes sir,” you said as you lowered your head. He leaned down to get at your height and you shut your eyes.

“You think I’m going to kill you?” he asked. You nodded once and he laughed. “Well I do have a habit of doing that to most humans that come in here. I hear good things about you. Your bosses take credit for all of your work naturally but I know who puts in the long hours and does the real work. I’m quite impressed.”

“Thank you sir,” you said. He grabbed your chin and you looked up, Sam smiling back at you.

“I also know that you used your job here to help your human family. I don’t mind a rule broken here or there. You do work for Hell after all,” he said. He dropped your face and straightened himself up. “I’d like to promote you.”

“Oh, that’s very kind of you, sir,” you said. Sam smirked and you frowned.

“This isn’t an office job. You’re familiar with the resistance group known as W?” he asked. You nodded, used to seeing them all over the news. “My brother leads it. He’s...annoying. I’ve struggled to get a mole into his group for years. I feel as though you might be the one to help me change that.”

“Sir?”

“I want you to go undercover and gather intelligence for me.”

“Sir I thought…” you trailed off as he stared at you.

“Speak your mind. This only works if you tell me everything after all,” he smiled. You swallowed and nodded.

“I thought your brother was...a demon. A Knight of Hell,” you said.

“He is. He’s my second in command which is precisely why I want you to substantiate these rumors for me. Use any means necessary. Sex tends to work with him,” he said.

“You want me to have sex with a demon?” you asked, Sam releasing a booming laugh.

“Oh you’re so adorable. I want you to do whatever the fuck you have to in order to get close. The demon version of him is a little...slutty so use that to your advantage,” he said.

“Okay?” you said.

“You’re dismissed,” he said. He started to walk away and you opened your mouth. “Do not make me ask twice.”

You quickly left and went back to your cubicle, Todd surprised to see you still alive and human.

“Hey! You didn’t die! That’s good! Was this about the promotion I mentioned for you,” he smiled. “I bet it was.”

“Yeah,” you said wit a nod. “I um, got a promotion. I’m not working under you anymore though. Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s alright kid. You’re gonna do great things in upper management,” he said. “You mind finishing up that last report for me before you go?”

“Yeah, sure thing, Todd.”

You sighed as you stepped in front of your closet mirror that night. Sam had texted you some more information on Dean. You weren’t to come into work anymore unless he asked you to. You were a simple human now that had plenty of cash and resources and didn’t give a fuck about anything.

You spun around and winced at the shirt you had on. The backless shirt you had on. The last time you’d worn it was on a girls night to the club and you’d had an amazing time. But that was fun and a simple little backseat quickie with a handsome guy. This felt like you were selling your body.

“If I don’t go, he’s gonna torture me and kill me. If I do...I might get really hot sex and I might get to be safe from bad shit. Okay. Okay. I’m having sex with a demon tonight. I can’t believe I just said that but it’s happening. Okay. Here we go. Let’s do this. Let us do this,” you said, making a face. “Ah, why’d I have to be good at my job. Fuck.”

You took a deep breath and put on a pair of five inch heels, hair and makeup already done.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” you said as you headed out to the club known for hosting demons.

“Two shots of vodka and an old fashioned,” you said at the bar thirty minutes later. The demon behind the bar nodded and you felt the eyes on your back. Lots and lots of black eyes in meat suits on your back. You threw back the shots once you got them, chugging the old fashioned before you got another.

“Rough day, princess?” asked a demon in a suit. He ran a finger up your spine and you narrowed your eyes.

“I don’t think princess said to touch,” said a voice. You turned your head and recognized the red shirt immediately. Dean Winchester, Knight of Hell and Sam’s righthand man. “Get lost.”

The demon took off and you got your drink, sipping it slowly as Dean came to lean back against the bar next to you.

“You know this is a demon bar, don’t you, sweetheart?” he asked.

“I ain’t your sweetheart. Sweetheart,” you said. You drank half your glass before you set it down. He smirked and picked it up, finishing it off. “That was mine.”

“I’ll buy you another one,” he said. He waved his finger and two shots of brown liquor were in front of you quickly. “You want to have tonight sweetheart?”

“Oh, you might be the Knight of Hell but I ain’t your typical girl,” you said. You took your shot in your hand and he smirked as he picked his up.

“I’ve heard it before. Let’s see if you live up to the hype,” he said. “Cheers.”

“Cheers, demon boy,” you said, clanking your glasses together.

“Another round. I like this one.”

“I said down,” you growled thirty minutes later in the room above the bar. You bit at his neck and rolled your hips, Dean thrusting up into you as you sucked his skin hard. “I. Said. Stay. The. Fuck. Still.”

He groaned as he released himself in you, your walls squeezing him, his tip hitting your g-spot and giving you a nice, deep orgasm. You kissed his marked up skin as you moved a few more times, smirking as you sat up. His hickey disappeared and he smiled, laughing to himself.

“Wow. You are not like other human girls,” he said. 

“Demon or not, a bottom loves an in charge top,” you said. “Now I think it’s time you cleaned up the mess you made.”

You slid off of him and crawled up the bed, settling yourself over his face. He immediately starting eating you out, his tongue swirling and diving deep. You came quickly and he licked up your juices until you were sure there was nothing left.

“Good demon,” you said as you rolled off of him. He sat up on his elbows as you walked over to get dressed.

“Y/N,” he said. You tensed. You hadn’t told him your name. You looked over your shoulder and his smile seemed...sad almost. “Marcy’s 30th birthday. You went out with your friends. We uh, we had some fun in my car.”

“Blue flannel guy,” you said as it came back to you. “Wait, were you a demon-”

“No,” he chuckled darkly. “That improvement came later. Something about you in that shirt I can’t resist apparently, human or demon.”

“I live in town if you’re ever…”

“Looking for a fuck?” he asked. “I don’t have too hard of a time getting those.”

“There’s a difference between a fuck and a good fuck. How am I batting so far?” you winked.

“Two for two,” he said with a smirk. “Why’s a nice human girl like you in a place like this? I remember the hot sex. I remember the backseat cuddling too.”

“The demons are in charge, Dean. Hell won. I want to be on the winning side of this thing. You guys tend to fuck better too so there’s that.”

“The boyking is in charge. He’s the one to worry about,” he said.

“Isn’t he your boss?”

“I suppose. Change the guy’s diapers and this is how I’m repaid. Fucking vice president of this shit hole,” he said. 

“Well, you’re hotter,” you said.

“He’d kill you for that you know. I should kill you for insulting him like that,” he said.

“Okay,” you said. He got out of bed and you stared up at him when he walked in front of you. “You’re still hotter.”

“He gets a lot of credit for being smart. Most everyone’s always thought he was more intelligent. I mean how obvious was he trying to send a mole after me?” he said. You didn’t move a muscle and Dean brushed your hair behind your ear. “Your only give away was getting out of bed and not trying to cuddle. I can’t blame you for that.”

“There’s no point in me trying to lie, is there,” you said.

“No, not really,” he said. 

“Please kill me quickly,” you said. You shut your eyes and swallowed. “Please.”

“I think you’re going to come home with me and we’ll decide the answer to that. Get dressed. Now.”

Twenty minutes later Dean was leading you by the arm into a relatively normal looking home. He cut through the house and over to a kitchen table, dragging a chair out and setting it in the middle of the room. You sat down, Dean grabbing another one and swiveling it around to face you. He straddled it and sat down, lifting up a finger. He pointed it at you and curled it, your arms tight by your side.

“Understand?” he said. You nodded and the pressure came off of you. You set your hands in your lap, Dean looking you up and down. “I can’t blame you. Your options were agree to be a mole or death. It’s not really a choice at that point. He kills his loyal followers most slowly too I’m sure you’ve heard.”

You stared at him and he smiled.

“How about we come to a...similar agreement,” he said. You shut your eyes and he chuckled.

“You feed Sammy whatever information I tell you to and I will allow you to continue to live,” he said.

“Not much choice there either,” you said quietly.

“Do you know where he gets his powers from? Demon blood. Guess who’s blood he likes the most,” said Dean. He wiped his thumb over his forearm and you saw a scar appear. “I am sick of being his blood bank.”

“It keeps you weak, doesn’t it,” you said. “It’s why he does it. It’s why you haven’t challenged him.”

“Perceptive aren’t you,” he said. You knew he respected strength and you were valuable to him now. You stood up and he watched you carefully. You walked past him and felt a pressure keeping your arms by your sides but that was it. You could move forward, you could turn your head.

“You’re more than weak,” you said. He growled but you took a step forward and another, only stopping when his hand caught your arm. “I find it hard to imagine that the Knight of Hell gets that much power zapped when some blood gets taken from him. You’re weaker than the lowest level demon.”

“He did something to me. Now who’s side do you think I’m on? Demons? Or yours?”

“What’d he do.” He rolled his eyes and you shrugged him off. “Maybe I can help.”

“I am barely demon. He made me harmless. I keep him fed and that’s all I am anymore. He thought I was going to fuck him over. Well his big fuck up was nearly changing me back. Fuck him and fuck the demons. I’m gonna be in charge.”

“Are you going to end the world or just play dirty in it?” you asked. He smirked and raised his chin.

“You know I’m not as bad as him. I’m the lesser of two evils. You...want to help me. Oh, that’s even better than I thought. Shit, I could turn you in and probably get him to back off of me,” he said. You held your ground and he nodded. “Good. You know I was bluffing.”

“We can help each other,” you said. He rested a hand on your hip and gave it a squeeze. “I’m not your personal slut.”

“Understood. No reason we can’t indulge in a little fun while we work together though,” he said. He moved his hand aside and nodded. “I assume you want something for this.”

“What?”

“What do you want? Money? Power?”

“I don’t want to be afraid anymore. Everyone is always so afraid of what the demons will do to us. If you’re in charge, you and the other demons can play in our world but this is a human world again. Understand?”

“If my brother goes bye bye, Hell will go back to as it was. I swear on my soul,” he smirked.

“Alright then,” you said. 

“Well, now that we got the dirty talk out of the way, how about I make you come screaming my name again?”

“How about you go upstairs, edge yourself and tomorrow when I come back, maybe I’ll be nice and let you get off,” you said. 

“As you wish,” he said. “Don’t bother locking up. Nobody steals from us.”

“Dean,” you said as he headed upstairs. “Don’t fuck me over on this.”

“He’s not Sam anymore. I like you a hell of a lot more than him right now,” he said. “Wear something you don’t mind me tearing to shreds when you come by tomorrow.”

“We’ll see, demon boy.”

You swallowed as you followed Dean up to his bedroom the next night. You’d spent the day researching and understood what Sam had done to make him barely demon as he put it. One more shot of the right kind of blood and he’d be human.

“Y/N,” said Dean as he stepped aside and you saw a large bed. He grabbed your clutch and opened it, frowning when he pulled out the syringe of blood. “What exactly were you going to do with this? I thought we had an understanding.”

“You can help me. If you’re human then I know for sure you’re-”

“If I’m human, he knows it’s me. He knows it’s you. He’ll destroy us both. I am so much more valuable as a demon and this? This causes trust issues, sweetheart.” He snapped the syringe in his hand and you tried to take a step back, Dean slamming the door shut with his finger. “Here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m in charge and if you don’t like that, too fucking bad. Understand?”

“Yes,” you said. He walked until your back hit the door, a dark smile on his face as he peered down at you. 

“Now how about-Fuck!” he shouted as you stabbed the syringe from your back pocket into his leg. You ran past him and over to a bathroom door, Dean falling down to the floor and clutching his body. He passed out and you looked around, Dean coming around quicker than you were expecting. You ran over and took out the pair of restraints from your pocket and put them on his wrists. Dean groaned as you tugged them taught and stepped back. He got up to his knees, black eyes staring at you that dissipated into deep green ones. 

He shook his head out and took a few breaths, squeezing his eyes shut momentarily.

“Y/N? From the car?” he said. He looked around and down at his wrists. “What the hell is going on?”

“You don’t remember a thing?” you asked. He shook his head and swallowed. “What do you remember?”

“Sammy was...that can’t be real,” he said. “None of that is real.”

“Dean, your brother is the boyking of Hell and he rules not only Hell but earth too,” you said. He shook his head and you stepped closer. “You were a demon. I turned you human just now. Sam made you demon but kept you only kinda demon I guess for your blood. You sounded like you wanted to help and I’m sorry but you were too dangerous as a demon to work with.”

“What do you mean boyking?” asked Dean. You sighed and pulled out your phone, Dean’s breath hitching as you showed him the articles about your demon overlords. “This can’t be happening.”

“It is. I need your help. I know you hunted monsters. I need you to hunt this monster down with me.”

“You mean my brother,” said Dean. You nodded and leaned down, Dean holding out his hands. “Let me go. Please.”

“Are you going to tell Sam?” you asked.

“You have no idea what you just did,” he said. “This mark? On my arm? Eventually, I’m gonna lose it and I’m gonna kill anything in my way.”

“Then we get it off.”

“There is no getting it off. The only way to get it off is if somebody else takes it from me,” he said. “You can’t trust me as a human.”

“Are you kidding me? I just risked my life to save you.” He sighed and snapped the plastic ties, shakily getting to his feet. You stepped back and he held up a hand.

“We got some time before I go ballistic. Probably a few months. If we can get this thing off my arm...somehow...we might have a chance.”

“Then let’s get that off your arm,” you said. He nodded and smiled at you. “What?”

“I always had a good feeling about you was all. Let’s get out of-” he said as you heard a creak down the hall. You both looked out the bedroom door and saw Sam there.

“Y/N, Y/N...I should have known you’d be drawn to him. Now I have to kill him,” said Sam.

“Sammy, don’t,” said Dean, Sam suddenly by his side and snapping something. Dean dropped to the floor and you backed into a wall.

“Give him a minute. He’ll wake up all demon again real soon. This time, he’ll do as told,” said Sam. “He’s very...pliable when he first comes into his new life.”

“Pliable my ass,” said Dean as he yanked Sam down to the floor. Sam grunted and you dove into the bathroom, a lot of smashing and crashing going on in the bedroom. It went quiet and you swallowed when you heard footsteps. You looked up, Dean staring down at you, his eyes narrowed. “You followed the plan very well. I knew Sam was watching and he did exactly as expected.”

“Is he dead?” you asked.

“No. He’s going to detox now and when he’s done, he’ll be a simple little human,” said Dean. “As for our, arrangement...your family and friends are safe. Demon corp is no more.”

“Okay,” you said with a nod, wondering how the hell you were going to help either one of them now. Sam sounded like he was screwed but you knew deep down it wasn’t his fault. He was manipulated and you couldn’t blame him for that entirely. Dean, well him you just needed some blood and then you’d have time to get the mark off of him.

“Pack a bag,” he said. You raised an eyebrow and smirked as he squatted down. “I like loyalty. You’re loyal to me, aren’t you, Y/N?”

“I’m still not your slut,” you said.

“Didn’t say you were,” he said. “And I said pack a bag.”

“Why?”

“Because you just gave me Hell. I’m gonna give you whatever you want as my second in command.”

“Excuse me?”

“I feel like this is going to be the start of a great relationship, sweetheart,” he said as he flashed you a wink. “Don’t you? I’ll be by your place in an hour whether you’re ready or not.”

He walked out and you took a deep breath, closing your eyes.

“Well shit.”

________

#spn #supernatural #dean x reader #dean winchester #dean x you #dean winchester x reader #demon!dean #demon!dean x reader #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction

[cantteachanoldguardnewquotes]

A "Scandal."

Read on AO3

Summary: A lady accuses Nicky of cheating on Joe and Joe thinks they're an idiot.

"Oh, hello." 

Joe grit his teeth just for a moment before turning around with a pleasant smile. "Hi there, Nora." 

"I didn't think you would still be here. Waiting for me?" She winked at him. 

"The boss just wanted me to finish filling out these papers for him, that's all."

"Hmmm, pity." She said trying to be coy.  "It's so late, let me get some dinner for us and we can finish our paper work together." 

It took a lot for Joe not to make a face. "That's alright. Nicky will have food warming for me when I get home." He emphasized the words Nicky and home just a bit. 

"Oh come on, it's my treat." 

He shrugged an apology. "Maybe another time." 

"Well, I hope your leftovers are... Satisfying." She turned on her heel and walked away quickly. 

Joe waited until she was gone and then turned around with an exaggerated eye roll that no one could see. This job had been going on for way to long, and he was sick of it. He went back to his "paperwork" that the boss had definitely not told him to do and continued scanning the files for anything incriminating. They had it on good authority that the head of this company had kidnapped a girl but they still couldn't prove it. He had broken into the bosses office cause he didn't think anyone was still here and brought the papers back to his cubicle. Of course Nora would still be here, she probably sensed his presence and came running. This job wouldn't be nearly as irksome if it wasn't for her. 

He finished looking through the files and then very carefully replaced them in his bosses office. They hadn't been any help but it was worth a shot. 

He texted Nicky he was on his way home, drove to the the little apartment they were renting, and trudged inside. 

Just like he knew he would, Nicky, had dinner warm and waiting, the predictability of it made Joe smile and instead of sitting at the table like Nicky directed him too, he made a bee line for Nicky. 

Nicky laughed at the bear hug Joe gave him, squeezing Joe just as tight as Joe was holding him.

"What's got you in such a clingy mood, hmm?" Nicky teased when Joe didn't let go of him when he usually would have. 

"You're cooking is so much better than takeout." 

Nicky pulled back enough to look at Joe in confusion. "Thank you?" 

"And I knew you would have something waiting for me." 

"Of course, I told you this morning I would make dinner and keep it warm for you." Nicky said still confused. 

"Thank you, my love. I really couldn't ask for more." He kissed Nicky, gently, moving his hands to cradle his neck. "I love you." He said when he pulled back.

"I love you too." Nicky said as he ran his hand through Joe's curls. "But you must be starving. Sit and we can eat." 

Joe glanced at the clock. "You haven't eaten? You didn't have to wait for me, it's late." 

Nicky smiled. "I wanted to." 

Nicky had made a chicken and rice dish and it smelled heavenly. It tasted just as heavenly Joe thought after taking his first bite. 

"What's on your mind?" Nicky asked after they had eaten in silence for a while. 

"That woman, Nora, asked me to eat with her after work again. I swear she has a sixth sense for when I'm by myself, she finds me every time. I don't think I've ever had to turn someone down this many times." 

Nicky smirked. "You're to charming for your own good." 

Joe absently rubbed his ring with his thumb. "I told her you would have food at home for me and she implied it would be terrible leftovers." 

Nicky chuckled "So, the first thing you did when you walked in was compliment it even before you ate any of it." 

"Your cooking is always good." Joe took a large bite, almost like he was trying to prove his words, making Nicky laugh.

"She's bothering you that much?" Nicky said his smile replaced with a look of concern. 

"She's just annoying. The first job in forever where I get to tell people I'm a married man and somehow I'm stuck with the most persistent suiter in years." 

None of this would bother Joe nearly as much if she hadn't met Nicky and still made advances. Joe couldn't decide if he was more insulted that she deemed Nicky an unfit partner or if she thought they weren't going to last. 

"I'm sure we'll be finished soon." Nicky said sympathetically, he'd had his own run ins with this woman since he and Joe were working in the same place. She had taken an instant disliking to him even before she knew they were together. It was certainly making everything harder but she was one of the higher ups and they both needed to be nice to her. 

Joe sighed. "You're right, of course, but it's frustrating." 

"Maybe this will help cheer you up." Nicky stood up and opened the freezer, pulling out Joe's favorite flavor of gelato. 

Joe's eyes lit up and he grinned ear to ear.

Nicky was predictable but he knew how to make a small surprise count. 

******

Joe was taking his lunch break outside on the grass, tucked behind some bushes so it would be difficult to spot him from the parking lot or main entrance. If he had to suffer another lunch break where Nora ate with him, saying anything to drag conversation out of him, he was going to lose it. He was very happily reading on his phone, when he heard someone approaching. 

"It's such a beautiful day I thought I'd eat outside too. I guess great minds think alike." Nora smiled down at him. She didn't even ask just sat down and made herself comfortable. 

"Hello, Nora." Joe said, trying to decide if he should just keep reading and ignore her or not. Ultimately politeness won and he put away his phone, but he started eating a little faster. 

"Why were you eating all alone? If you had asked I would have joined you sooner."

"I like the quiet sometimes." Joe said.

She pursed her lips. "How dreadfully boring." She tilted her head to the side just a bit. "Why doesn't that Nicky fellow ever eat with you? You said the two of you know each other didn't you? Why don't I ever see you together?"

Joe bristled at her tone, like she was dismissing Nicky, like he wasn't the most important person in Joe's world. "My husband." He emphasized the word just a bit. "Works in the warehouse part of the company and takes his lunches earlier because he gets here earlier."

"Oh you did say you two were married didn't you? Silly me, must have slipped my mind." She shook her head in an 'I'm such an airhead' kind of way. "How long have you been together?"

"Almost a millennia." Joe deadpans sarcastically.

She rolls her eyes. "Oh come on. I bet you can't even remember how long you two have been together. Guys never can."

If only she knew. "We've been married twelve years."

"You've been tied down for that long? What a tragedy to get married so young." 

Before Joe can respond she leans in far closer than Joe is comfortable with and places her hand on his knee. "If you ever want to have a little fun just let me know." She slowly walked her hand up his thigh. "Surely, you must want to change things up sometimes." 

Joe ground his teeth together, knocked her hand off of him, and stood quickly. "I would never be unfaithful to my husband." He started gathering up his things. "And I would ask you to not forget that." He quickly walked back into the building trying to hide his anger from the people he passed, wishing for the millionth time he could end this job and put the whole thing behind him.

******

A few days passed and it was Nicky who found the evidence they needed to incriminate the boss. He had broken into the guys house and was able to send Copley some files he'd had saved on his home computer. 

They were waiting for Copley to get back with them, keeping their covers and going about their lives like everything was normal, waiting for the all clear to pull out. 

"Joe, I need you to come with me to my office." Nora said, he hadn't heard her approach and her voice startled him a little. 

As he followed her there, he worried she might have discovered what he and Nicky were really there for, but knew it was more likely she's just using whatever she wants to tell him as an excuse to get them alone. 

Once inside Nora closed the door to her office and gestured for him to sit. Instead of sitting in her chair behind the desk she took the one next to him. 

Joe frowned ever so slightly. This wasn't going to be about work he found himself thinking. 

"Joe I... I hate to be the one to tell you this but... "She stammered out the words like she was about to tell him someone had died. "But I believe Nicky is having an affair."

Her eyes were filled with pity, as she said this, but Joe couldn't help but compare it to a child trying to get another kid in trouble. There was nothing sincere about the look, despite her best efforts to make him believe otherwise.

Joe didn't bother hiding the fact he didn't believe the nonsense she was saying. He crossed his arms and looked at her in an 'oh really' kind of way.

She raised her chin a little, indignant at his response. "I have proof." 

Joe had to swallow a laugh, but he couldn't quite keep all the amusement off his face. Whatever "proof" she had was gonna be good.

She pulled out her phone and brought up a picture for him to look at. 

He took the phone to get a better look.

When he saw who was in the picture, Joe really couldn't hold back and he barked out a laugh. It was a picture of Nicky, and he was giving Nile a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "That's your proof?" 

Andy and Nile had been working on locating the girl and they all had decided to keep their distance from each other for a while. They had located the girl and had gotten her out safely just a day before this was taken. Nicky had mentioned running into Nile yesterday and he couldn't resist a quick hello since they had pretty much everything they needed.

"I wouldn't know what else to call it." She told him, miffed at his response. 

Joe laughed again. "Nora, that's his sister. His adopted younger sister. He told me he ran into her yesterday and they talked for a while." 

Nora's face went red. "Well, then, I'm glad you have nothing to worry about." 

"No, I don't, not with Nicky, but what I am concerned about is, were you following my husband? Or did you hire someone to do it for you?" He quickly deleted the picture and swiped left and right to make sure there weren't more.

"I... of course not! I was just passing through when I saw the two of them and thought you'd want to know. Guess it's the last time I do you any favors." She looked angry and Joe knew she was mad he had turned the question of who was in the wrong on her so fast.

"Yeah ok. I think we're done here." He stood up to go, and he felt his phone buzz. He had a feeling he knew who it was and paused to check.

It was Nicky. All clear we're leaving now. Copley has everything he needed. The text said.

Joe paused his hand resting on the door knob. "You can consider this mine and Nicky's resignation. We won't be back tomorrow or any other day."

"You can't do that you didn't give the company a two weeks notice!" Nora spluttered in disbelief. "You wouldn't quit just because I tried to help you out would you?"

"I would and I am." He opened the door and started walking.

"Thanks for the terrible experience. It's been a displeasure." He said over his shoulder.

Joe walked out of there as fast as he could and didn't bother collecting his things, it wasn't anything important.

He texted back ok, where are we meeting? Once outside.

Nicky called him immediately.

"How far are you from fifth and elm?" Nicky asked.

"About a fifteen minute walk. I'm just leaving the office."

"Ok, Andy has a car. We'll pick you up at the corner of third and elm."

"Great see you soon."

He climbed into the backseat where Nicky was sitting and squeezed in close to him.

Nile was in the front and Andy was driving.

Joe busted out laughing once they were driving and settled. "Nile I'd appreciate it if you would stop flirting with my husband in public." He said, his voice light and teasing.

Nile looked back at him and couldn't help but return his smile even though she had no idea what he was talking about. "What?"

"This lady accused Nicky of having an affair and she showed me a picture of the two of you together, hugging and kissing." He laughed again at how ridiculous the whole thing was.

"Wait what? Nora was following me?" Nicky asked, surprised, he knew immediately that Joe couldn't be talking about anyone else.

"I think it was mostly coincidence. It doesn't matter she won't be bothering us again."

"Wow, Nicky, the two of us will have to be more careful in the future if we want to make this relationship work." Nile teased.

"Yeah, I didn't realize Joe has eyes and ears everywhere on me." Nicky gently tugged on one of Joe's curls.

"Oh, you know I'm always watching you babe." Joe leaned in and kissed him, his heart soared as Nicky tangled his hand in Joe's hair holding him close.

Andy gasped in fake shock. "Right in front of you Nile? How could he!" She said highly amused by the whole situation.

"You wound me Nicky." Nile put the back of her hand on her forehead and fell back in her seat, pretending to faint.

Nicky tisked his tongue at her. "So dramatic."

They all laughed and Nicky and Nile's "affair" became a new running joke between them.

#The Old Guard #established relationship #Joe #Nicky #immortal husbands #Andy #Nile #Copley #false accusations of an affair #pursuit of a relationship with a married man #fic #Twi writes sometimes

[anjuschiffer]

Amira Wayne - Chapter 4

I’m running out of pre-written chapters :’D

Day 4 of @biodad-bruce-month event!

Chapter 4: Habits

-

P.Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijahcrevan

Tag: @vixen-uchiha @we-want-mini-mini @ramos123 @bluesimani

-

MASTERLIST | FIRST | PREV | AO3

-

School wasn’t the same without Jason around.

The ride to school was silent, the rain falling that morning didn’t help. If anything, it only made Amira feel colder. 

Walking the halls without him by his side was torture, Amira missing his banter over the latest book he was reading. Their banter of the pronunciation of a word they were learning in spanish class. How did she ever deal with the solitude and whispers behind her back when she used to be by herself?

Gym class was terrifying, Amira finding herself leaning against the wall as everyone else got into groups to play dodgeball. Some groups avoided her gaze while some looked at her and sneered. That’s right. Amira only played with Jason since he never held back simply because she was a girl. He was the only one who treated her as an equal. He was the only one who was willing to pair with her, no one else never daring to approach them.

All her other classes seemed to go the same way, finding herself alone and in a corner of the room or isolated from the groups formed during science.

Lunch was something she never knew she would dread. It felt like everyone watched her every move. That she was judged with each step she took. No longer being able to bear the torture, Amira ran to the school library, ignoring the looks she got as she ran there.

Slumping into a lone cubicle on the second floor of the library, Amira looked around. There was no one else there, only a librarian at the front desk. 

She took out her workbook, deciding to do something with her uneasy mind. And if anything, she could stay here until the school day ended. Father would understand.

She didn’t know how long she had been there, how engrossed she was with her work until she got a tap on the shoulder. Amira quickly grabbed the hand, bending a finger back. 

“A..mira, it’s me. Dick.” She quickly let go, averting her gaze from him.

“Dick? How did you find me?” Amira asked, dumping her things into her bag. “And sorry.”

“It’s alright. And the dismissal bell rang half an hour ago. As to how I found you, a classmate of yours saw you run out of the school lunchroom. Said I might find you here.” Dick explained, soothing his finger.

Richard watched as Amira averted her gaze, Richard noticing her digging her nails into her palm. “Amira, you alright?” When she didn’t respond, he sighed. “Sorry, that was stupid of me to ask.” 

He didn’t expect Amira to hold his hand, her grasp tight.

“He’s gone forever, isn’t he?” Richard heard her voice crack, watching a tear slip down her face. “He won’t ever come back, right?”

Dick quickly brought her closer to him, letting her cry into his uniform. He stood there quietly, patting her head as she continued to cry. “Don’t leave me alone either Richard! Don’t leave me! Don’t go!”

“I will try, Amira. I will try.”

-

When Amira asked Dick to never leave her, she didn’t mean this.

During the evening, Dick would help Amira with her homework or if he was in a patrol, he would talk to her through the comms.

During the short weekend, he would take her out to go shopping, of course, with Alfred accompanying them.

Then came the school week.

That Monday morning, Dick patted her head before the two headed to their respective classrooms, some of the girls in her class asking how she knew him. Turns out that despite the clear age gap (and being in different buildings), some of her classmates were captivated by his charm.

What did Jason call it? Charisma? She forgot.

During lunch, Dick barged into the lunchroom and found her, dragging her to his classroom where he would introduce her to his friends, as in, his entire class.

“This is Marinette! She’s a very close friend of mine! Practically my sister from other parents!” Dick said with a grin, ruffling Amira’s hair as he did so.

The girls in his class cooed, buttering Amira in hopes of gaining her brother’s favor.

“Guys, leave the poor girl alone. She needs her space.” A girl sitting away from the group said, Amira looking to see who it was. She didn’t realize she was staring until the girl beckoned her to come closer. “Hi, name’s Barbara Gordon. What’s yours?”

“Marinette.” Amira said. “Marinette Dupain. I’m part of the middle school wing, grade 7.” 

“Dupain? Like the bakery-”

“Yes!” Amira said, quickly rambling about the bakery, not noticing how Dick smiled as he watched her lighten up.

Maybe he should bring her over more often.

-

The next few days were definitely different for Amira.

Out of school, Amira would be joining Dick at the Cave, learning a few basic gymnast skills. Learning flips and other tricks were exhilarating, Amira absorbing the new skills easily. 

Sometimes, some of Dick’s friends would join in, Amira quickly taking a liking to Wally out of three of them, no offense to Garth and Vic. Perhaps because Wally was the one who made sure to make her feel included that caused Amira to grow a soft spot for him. Whenever he would come over, Amira always made sure to have cookies ready for him.

She enjoyed the smile that would radiate off him, Amira always looking forward towards his next visit.

At school, Amira would go over to Dick’s classroom to talk with Babs during lunch. 

(That was Amira’s name for her, although she didn’t dare to call Barbara by that nickname. They weren’t exactly close friends...yet.) 

She adored talking to Babs about the latest pastry or about Babs’ father’s latest case. (Amira found it hilarious that their dads respected each other both in and out of work.)

It’s been a solid month since she began merging into this new routine, Amira practically skipping as she made her way to see Babs. Just as she was about to make her way inside, she was quickly pulled back, Amira now face to face with a kid...her age? But one thing was for certain, she had seen him before...but where? Surely she would remember a kid that carried a portable camera-

Timothy Jackson Drake. The Drakes only son...only child.

The only reason she remembered him was due to the newspaper she found on the dining table her father left behind that morning. Something about his mother was the headline of the paper.

“You’re Marinette, right?” He asked her, Amira wondering what he wanted with her. This was the first time both children ever spoke to each other.

“I am. Do I-”

“Name’s Tim -Tim Drake- from the elementary wing, grade 5. Anyways, I’ve been wanting to ask you something. Where’s Jason?” He asked, Amira feeling her heart drop. “I’ve noticed that-”

Amira knew that the boy kept talking about something, but she didn’t know what exactly. 

Jason’s name just kept echoing within her head, Amira’s head replaying the past month in her mind.

How did she forget about Jason? Why did she forget about Jason? How dare she forget him?!

“-Mimi! Mimi, please, listen to me!” Amira registered a voice, a voice she always heard. “Amira, please, talk to me!” It was big brother.

Amira looked at Dick, his eyes wide with panic, Amira registering the tears that dared to slip from him.

Without another word, Amira hugged him, her grasp on his school jacket tightening as her mind slipped back to Jason.

“I didn’t mean to forget him! I didn’t mean to! I swear!” Amira sobbed, hating that she was breaking down at school, hating that everyone saw her at her most vulnerable point. Hating herself for forgetting Jason. “He probably hates me for forgetting about him. He hates me…”

“It’s alright Amira. It’s alright.” She heard Dick whisper to her, watching as the two left the school grounds. “He would never hate you Amira. He loved you too much to ever gate you.” Dick reassured. 

That was the last time Amira ever saw Gotham Academy.

-

Ever since Amira broke down at school, she remained cooped up in her room, not letting anyone enter it, not even Alfred.

Dick had tried to coax her to come out by telling her that Wally had come over to talk to her, but Amira didn’t budge from her room. 

Not until Bruce asked her to come to his study to talk.

“Did you want to speak to me, Father?” Amira asked, closing the door behind her. 

She knew why she was there. She knew why her father called her to his study. 

After all, it wasn’t that easy to create a cover story of why Dick and Amira came home while school was still in session. It was especially hard when the school called Bruce, asking about the whereabouts of the two of them.

“Amira. Take a seat.” Bruce said as he motioned to the open space in front of him. It’s been a while since she had been at her father's study, noticing the new window seats. They weren’t there the last time she stepped foot into his study. Then again, the last time she did was when…

Now that she thought about it, Amira couldn’t help but look at her father.

Despite the dim lightning of the study, Amira could easily see the worn out features on her father. His eyes were shrouded in darkness, circles deeper than ever, the bags under his eyes darker than before. 

The corners of his eyes were red and tired, her father’s lips now forever in a frown. 

How could she forget? How stupid was she to think that she was the only one suffering when clearly, her father was too? What about Dick then? Was he also-? And Alfred...

Amira shook the thought from her mind, deciding to pile up the cushions into a corner and taking a seat, letting her back lightly touch the pile. It was only then that she noticed her old Batman plushie.

“I thought...I thought this was thrown out.” Amira said, picking up the old thing, the colors faded, Amira running her fingers over the stitched up arm.

“It was, until I asked Alfred if I could keep it.” Bruce said, letting a sigh leave him. “Sometimes, it's hard to let go of the past.” Amira remained silent, letting her head hang. So this is why he called her to his study. 

Amira listened as her father drifted to his memories of when he ventured the world. Of how he met her mother. (That was the first time he actually talked about her to Amira. Sure, he would mention her mother’s small quirks, but Father never told her stories about her.) Of how he met Amira...as an infant. 

How Bruce kept making mistake after mistake, wanting to give up various times as he found himself lost. How he thought he wasn’t enough to help raise Amira, that he wasn’t fit for the job. 

How he found his efforts finally being rewarded in the shape of Amira growing into the girl she was now. For Dick finally being able to flourish despite his parents’ death. How Jason was able to have a better life once Bruce took him in.

“Where did I go wrong?” Bruce asked, looking out the window. “What did I do that caused-“

“You did nothing wrong.” Amira reassured. “You did nothing wrong Dad. If anything, you always did your best to make sure we were fed, clothed...safe. We couldn’t have asked for a better father.”

Amira sat there in silence for what seemed like minutes before Bruce looked at her. 

“But clearly, that wasn’t enough.” Bruce said, getting up from his seat. “I’m sending you to Paris.”

NEXT

#maribat #b!dbwm2020 #bio!dad bruce wayne month 2020 #bio!dadbrucewaynemonth2020

[dcbbw]

Would you ever 📝 AU Romance. Riley having a pregnancy scare or how would Liam would react?

@gkittylove99!!! THIS ASK! THIS.ASK. I have to thank my pre-readers and idea bouncers @sirbeepsalot, @burnsoslow, and @ao719. And to all the folks I sent random snippets to, thank you for not thinking I was crazy!

Warnings for this full-blown fic: Slightly NSFW, Frank discussion of pregnancy termination

I awaken to feel Liam’s weight pressed against my back. His palms cover the backs of my hands as his cock sits in my center, throbbing and twitching.

“Are you awake yet?” His breath, warm and stale, tickles the back of my neck.

I respond by arching my hips upwards; I feel his groin  grind against me as he alternates his thrusts between teasingly slow and hard and rough. His teeth scrape my skin between groans of: “Throw that pussy at me,” and “You like how this dick feels?”

The head of his cock is pressed against my spot and I cry out as I release over his shaft; the pillow muffles it. Shortly thereafter, I feel his orgasm splashing against my still clenching walls. He pulls out and rolls over onto his back.

We start every morning with some form of sex. Sometimes it’s oral for me, a blowjob in front of the bedroom mirror for him, or intercourse. It’s always vanilla; we save the kinky for the nighttime.

I stay laying on my stomach; I have been tired lately. And unfocused. I think I need vitamins, maybe an iron supplement. Liam’s voice rouses me, and I turn my head to look at him.

“You need to get up, Riley. It’s time for your shower.”

“I don’t feel good,” I say.

He raises an eyebrow. “Do you have a cold?”

I shake my head. “I just don’t feel good.”

He gives me an odd look before speaking. “I’ll make you some tea and arrange to telework today.”

And then he rises naked from the bed, leaving me alone in the room.

One Week Later

It’s Wednesday, and I am in the office. Chase and Penelope have gone to make the Starbucks run before staff meeting. I didn’t order anything; I am still queasy and it’s strongest in the morning. I feel even more rundown, and there is some heartburn. I am booting up my laptop when my desk phone rings. It’s Lynn, my boss.

“Hey! Come back here and talk to me,” she requests in her signature cheery tone.

I tell her to give me two minutes and hang up. The phone rings again. “Need me to bring you anything?” I answer, sure it’s her again. But it’s Liam.

“Don’t order a car this evening. My car will pick you up at 4:30.”

I stare stupidly at my screen. “Why?”

“You’ll find out.” And the call is disconnected.

I feel uncertainty twist my already roiling stomach as I head into Lynn’s cubicle. She looks up at me, a bright smile on her face. Her hair is in loose waves and falls just past her shoulders; her skin is clear with a rosy glow.

“You look great!” I compliment her. “How do you feel?”

Lynn is entering her fifth month of pregnancy. It’s her fourth; she’s carrying twins.

“Thanks! I feel like I’m hauling around a pod of whales. Sperm whales,” she giggles at her pun.

I offer her a weak smile as I sit in the only empty chair in her cubicle. She frowns slightly. “Was that HR offensive?” She waves her hand dismissively. “I don’t know and too fat to care.”

I shake my head slightly. “You’re fine.”

She begins to dig into a styrofoam container that holds her breakfast: corned beef hash, sausage links, grits, potatoes, toast, and sunny-side up eggs. The sights and smells turn my stomach even more. As she eats, Lynn prattles about her weekend, possibly hiring a new person to help Coco in IT, and maybe putting together an employee handbook.

I say nothing because if I open my mouth, the water and yogurt I had earlier may come up. Noticing my silence, Lynn looks up me; her eyes are critical as she studies me.

“Riley, are you okay? You look … listless.”

“I’m fine!” I force myself to respond cheerfully. “Just a little tired.”

One of her hands rests lightly against her burgeoning belly; the other firmly grips her fork as she drags it through hash, grits, and egg yolk. “Go home. Get some rest for the remainder of the week.”

“I’m fine,” I protest.

“Then go home and get even better. Answer a couple of emails, take a call and you won’t have to use your leave.” She speaks around mouthfuls of food.

My eyes fall to her belly. “Do you have names for the babies yet?”

“Peanut butter and Jelly.” She sees my surprised expression. “There’s a story there, but it’s definitely NSFW. I’m not dealing with HR today.”

She waves her hand at me in a “shoo” motion. “Go home! See you Monday.”

I rise from the chair and make my way slowly back to my desk. I shut down the laptop. I pick up my desk phone and call Liam.

“What?” His tone is curt. I wonder if he’s busy or doesn’t want to hear from me.

“I’m leaving work now. I’m off until Monday.”

A pause before he speaks. I hear papers being shuffled and him typing on his keyboard. “Call the car, go to the penthouse. Shower. Don’t answer the door for anyone, don’t be a Nosy Parker, and I’ll be there shortly.”

And he hangs up.

Once inside the penthouse, I wander around before I shower. It’s rare Liam leaves me alone here; I find it feels strange without his presence. The quiet sounds different, the sun slants through the windows at an altered angle. The stovetop and counters gleam in the bright kitchen; usually both are filled with pots and pans and food in various stages of preparation. I open the refrigerator; there is a platter of homemade meatballs, perfectly rolled and shaped and filled with onions and peppers, ready to be cooked for our dinner tonight. I wonder what else we’ll have.

As I cross back through the living room, I look up at the staircase; only when Liam requests me in his study do I venture into the upper level of the penthouse. There’s a study, home gym, full bathroom, guest room, and the only ingress/egress to the outdoor space upstairs.

I keep walking until I reach the bedroom. I pass Liam’s chest of drawers and frown; one of the drawers isn’t fully closed. I set my phone on top of the furniture and place my palm against the gleaming wood to push it close, but I hesitate. I wonder what’s inside. I look around, even though I know I am the only person in the house.

I’m going to be a Nosy Parker.

I pull the drawer open cautiously and peer inside: neatly folded stacks of boxer shorts in white and black greet me. Next to them are wife beaters, also in white and black, and short-sleeved undershirts in white. There is a wooden tray on the right-hand side of the drawer; it’s mostly cufflinks and tie clips, but I see two photographs, face down. I look at them curiously; just as my fingers reach out to touch them, my phone rings.

I jump and let out a small yell before pushing the drawer shut and looking at my caller ID. I don’t recognize the number; I toss the phone onto the bed before stripping and entering the shower. By the time Liam arrives home, I am wearing his robe and wrapped in a blanket on the living room sofa. There is a talk show on the television. He stands in the doorway looking at me, carrying a brown paper bag. It smells delicious.

And I am now starving.

His eyes look me over as he passes me the food; it’s a grilled cheese sandwich and cup of tomato soup with basil. I look at him gratefully before I bite ravenously into the gooey, melted cheese and hot buttered bread. The cheese melts against my tongue; a droplet of butter rolls from my lower lip down my chin.

Liam sits next to me; he turns the television off.

“You’re feeling better?”

I am drinking savory soup directly from the container. “I’m still tired, but my nausea has passed.”

He nods thoughtfully. “You haven’t used your supplies this month, Riley.”

The sandwich is at my lips, but my mouth does not open. I’m trying to calculate the last time I had my period. Liam watches me for a few seconds before speaking.

“You’re 10 days late, Riley.”

I stare at him, struggling to come to terms with what this meant. Or could mean. Even the most regular women were sometimes late due to hormones or something.

But I was sick in the mornings. I was fatigued constantly.

The image of Lynn’s hand on her pregnant belly flashes through my mind.

I set my food down; my mouth is suddenly dry. “What … what if I am?”

“Pregnant?” Liam asks as he stands, then makes his way to the television set. He stands there, arms folded across his chest. His burgundy tie is blood against the crisp, white shirt he wears.

I nod slowly.

“You’ll get rid of it.” His tone is calm, matter-of-fact.

A coldness spreads from my belly to chill my entire body. I feel goosebumps rise on my skin. “No,” I whisper. “IF I am, it’s my body!”

“But my child. I don’t want children, Riley.”

“Then you should’ve taken better precautions!” I yell as I stand and get in his face. The robe falls open. I am naked beneath it, but Liam isn’t looking at my body.

“YOU said you were on birth control!” His voices thunders throughout the apartment. He takes a deep breath as he composes himself.

“However, I should have ensured that no … accidents could occur. I’ll be rectifying that situation.”

My eyes search his. He returns my gaze, his eyes steady. How could he be so callous, so cold towards a possible life he helped create?

“I’m not getting rid of our baby. This isn’t something you can throw money at to make it go away, Liam!”

He looks at me incredulously. “It’s a BABY! I will ALWAYS BE THROWING MONEY AT IT!” He shakes his head. “Best to make a one-time payment and be done with it.” He looks at me with hard, dark eyes. “And you either get rid of it or give it up. Those are your only options, Riley. You can’t have us both.”

He steps around me, headed for the stairway that leads upstairs. “Finish your food before it gets cold.”

The heels of his shoes tap against hardwood as he jogs up the stairs. And I am alone.

All alone.

I look around and my glance falls on my lunch. I gather it and take it into the kitchen; I watch red liquid splash against the stainless steel of the sink as I pour the soup out. I wrap the sandwich in its paper, put it back inside its bag, and ball the whole thing up before tossing it in the trash.

Back in the living room, I straighten the sofa cushions and fold my blanket; I carry the blanket with me to the bedroom. I place it back inside the closet; I look at my clothing. Clothing that Liam bought. My fingertips run across the various fabrics: silk, wool, cotton; it causes the hangers to tinkle against each other.

I am standing at the window, the robe belted tightly around my waist, when I hear Liam’s voice behind me. He says I have a doctor’s appointment Friday morning to determine if I am indeed pregnant. I say nothing as my eyes stay fixed on sunlight glinting off the East River, barely visible behind buildings of stone and steel.

I feel him behind me; I smell his cologne and hear his breathing. I feel tears prick my eyes.

“Why do you hate me so much?” I whisper.

“I don’t,” he answers softly.

His arms come around my waist and I feel his face drop into my hair. Then he steps away. “Dinner in an hour.”

“I’m not hungry.”

His footsteps pause. “You should eat.” And then he is gone.

That night, we do not have sex, but we do the next morning. We then spend the remainder of the day avoiding each other and not speaking.

I sit on his ridiculously oversized bed, chin resting on my knees, wondering what I will do if I am pregnant. I have my job; I have the alimony from Maxwell. I would need to find a bigger apartment, a two-bedroom at least.

I would not ask Liam for any child support, nor would I accept it if offered.

Friday morning, we are sitting in a doctor’s office. I fill out paperwork and give the receptionist my insurance information. Liam sits in a chair, an ankle resting on a thigh while he reads a magazine. When my name is called, he walks with me into the examination room.

The nurse is cheerful; she asks me questions that I answer in a dull tone.

No, I have never been pregnant before.

My period is now two weeks late.

The nausea is worse in the morning. I also have heartburn.

No pain.

Liam’s eyes stay fixed on me.

The nurse draws blood; I go to the bathroom to pee in a cup. And we wait.

The doctor comes in 20 minutes later. I am not pregnant. But she wants to do an ultrasound. I feel relief, sadness, and fear. I look at Liam, but his expression is stoic, giving nothing away. I agree to the ultrasound.

There is cool gel. Pictures of my insides show up on a screen. There are white spots on my right side.

I have gallstones; that is why I am nauseous and have heartburn and fatigue.

My surgery is scheduled for a month from Monday.

Liam asks if there is anything that can help relieve my discomfort for the next month. He inquires about foods and drinks to avoid. But he doesn’t look at the doctor when he asks his questions.

He is squatting in front of me, his thumb brushing my cheek while his eyes hold mine captive.

The doctor answers as she scribbles on paper: Ibuprofen to help with pain, and I need to limit my dairy, fats, grease, and fried foods.

At the reception desk, Liam pays the co-pay costs. The receptionist smiles at him. “Dr. Marion will see you Wednesday. Did you receive your paperwork?”

Liam nods, and tells her he will return it no later than Monday before he takes my hand as we walk to the elevator. I want to pull away because I don’t think he would be holding my hand if I were pregnant.

He won.

But I let my hand stay wrapped with his.

“Who’s Dr. Marion?” I ask.

“My urologist.”

“Is it a routine visit?”

I feel my stomach sour even though I haven’t eaten anything.

The elevator car arrives, and we board. He pushes the button to take us to the lobby. His eyes stay fixed on the metal doors as we begin our descent downstairs.

“I’m getting a vasectomy.”

And he says nothing else.

Tagging: @sirbeepsalot @jared2612 @katedrakeohd @jovialyouthmusic @hopefulmoonobject @amomentofsinclairity @ao719 @burnsoslow @bbrandy2002 @janezillow @marietrinmimi @annekebbphotography @merridithsmiscellany-blog @queenjilian @texaskitten30 @glaimtruelovealways @indiacater @forthebrokenheartedthings @kingliam2019 @bebepac @zaffrenotes @liyanin @liamxs-world @choiceslife @ac27dj @the-soot-sprite @gnatbrain @sanchita012 @anotherbeingsworld @atha68 @hopelessromanticmonie @amandablink @cmestrella @iaminlovewithtrr @cinnamonspongecake @lifeaskim @starrystarrytrouble @liamandneca @liamrhysstalker2020 @alyssalauren @queenrileyrose @ladyangel70 @yourmajesty09 @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @twinkleallnight @umccall71 @ritachacha @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @cordonianroyalty @superharriet

   #tw discussion of pregnancy termination #tw slightly ns*w #dcbbw answers #UnRomance AU ask #liam x riley #this isn’t Cordonia

[dalgonachan]

Latibule

pairing: Seungkwan x reader, ft. 95z as a troublesome trio genre: high school au, angst, fluff warnings: none prompt: every day is a new beginning, but today just seems to be too tough to face count: 3632 a/n: i feel like my new writing pattern is updating on the members’ birthdays. this one has been sitting in my drafts for like a year and i was having second thoughts about posting it but alas here it is. happy birthday to best boi boo seungkwan 🥳🎈

Standing in a shower cubicle, as you feel your hair and body dripping wet, definitely counts as one of the most awkward moments in your entire life. Most especially when you’re waiting for everyone to leave the locker room. Forgetting to bring your towel with you was a completely dumb move because you just ran in and took a shower without even thinking of the consequences of being unprepared. Although, first come first serve basis has become a tradition during gym class and you don't want to run out of stalls and wait. Even worse, having to share with someone too generous would be an unpleasant experience. So here you were waiting for everyone to leave so that you can dash out of the cubicle and grab your towel from the lockers.

Maybe I could just wear my swimsuit, go out, and take my towel—no. You thought to yourself, quickly dismissing the thought with a shake of your head. That is just disgusting.

There are around four or five more people left. Silently, you whisper to the air about how much you wish for them to leave so you can be alone right now. Not long after, you hear the locker room door close, followed by a sudden stillness. You carefully open your stall's door, hoping it doesn't creak, and peek outside to check if there's still anyone left. 

Nobody's here. But me. Good.

Without hesitation, you immediately exit the stall and manage not to slip while running. You slam the locker door open as soon as you’re inches away from it, then grab your towel and start drying off. You’re not even close to dry when you change back into your uniform and shoes, but for now, you really don't care. You’re running late for math class thanks to your stupidity.

Your footsteps and ragged breathing echo in the empty hallway. You slow down and start searching for your locker. Upon instantly catching sight of it, you sprint for it and nearly slam against it. You twist the knob to put in the code, however, it doesn't open and you try again. A few more attempts to open it are made, but none succeed.

"Come on! Work!" You plead, twisting the knob one last time.

Finally, you give up and kick your busted locker in anger. Being awfully late for math class is as bad as lacking the needed requirements, but together they're simply distressing.

You turn around and walk down the hall, dragging your feet lethargically. Your backpack seems to weigh heavier than it is... or was gravity also conspiring against you, trying to get your body to drop to the floor? As usual, you shrug it off and try your best to go on.

I'll just get to class and hope that this day doesn't completely go downhill.

Eventually, you reach your destination. Hesitantly, your hand reaches for the door knob, but getting caught standing outside any longer could give you a formal warning. You decide to walk in as casually as possible. For certain, you’ve failed to act normally because your movements become stiff with everyone's eyes on you. Barely reaching your chair, the teacher calls you out.

"(L/n)! You're late," her harsh tone is startling and you freeze.

"My apologies, Miss Kang," you timidly respond.

"I hope you have your materials with you." She taps the attendance chart on her desk. "Don't forget to register."

The attendance chart is where students write in, of course, their attendance. However, that isn't all. Listed above their names is a row of all the requirements needed in class. If they have the specified material, a check mark is put below it, beside their name. Lucky for you, you have none so the space beside your name is left blank.

Miss Kang checks the chart and gives you a look after reading your entry. With her eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed, and hands on her hips, it's obvious that she's cross. You lower your head in shame as you feel everybody staring in silence, watching the scene before them unfold. 

This must be so interesting for them. Spitefulness drips off your thoughts like venom. (Y/n) (L/n), the pupil who came to class tardy and incomplete, is sent to detention by the math teacher.

You take off the embarrassingly enormous detention tag hanging around your neck and place it in the plastic basket right next to Miss Joo's desk. She doesn't even look up from her computer as she points to your seat—fifth to the right, third to the back. Making your way to the chair, you take a gander at all the other students in the detention room. Some were familiar faces, some others you didn't know at all. Yoon Jeonghan, Choi Seungcheol, and Hong Jisoo, a group of known troublemakers in your school, huddled at the back while palavering about what most likely is their next evil scheme. You get into your seat, pull out a pad paper and pen, then carelessly drop your bag onto the floor.

Miss Kang sent you to detention to write a two thousand word essay about why one should always be prepared and early for class. Could there possibly be a punishment much worse than this? Honestly, it doesn't take long to fill up half of the paper since you were simply stating all the corrections to the mistakes you've recently committed. Just as you’re about to move on to the next page, something slobbery hits your nape followed by an eruption of laughter. You don't even have to turn your head to know who shot that spitball, but still do it to send a death glare their way. Jeonghan shrugs as if he knows nothing, meanwhile the other two are too busy laughing their heads off. If only.

Returning your attention to the paper, you force yourself to ignore them. The pen glides smoothly across the sheet as your thoughts fluidly flow out... but not for long. Another spitball comes your way, but this time it lands on the paper. You can tell they used so much saliva on this one because it created one hell of an ugly blotch on the essay that it actually ruined the ink. So much for effort.

This time, there is no room for mercy. Obviously, Miss Joo doesn't care, so you push your chair out of the desk, letting it screech across the floor, and stomp over to the three boys. The other students in the room watch closely, anticipating the drama about to happen. With arms crossed and eyebrows arched, you shoot them with the most painful glare you can make.

"I'm sorry, but what is your problem?!" You could almost yell at them, but you don't want to get into any more trouble. You’re going up until only this far.

"Nothing. We were just messing around," Jeonghan smugly replies.

You fight the temptation to rip his mouth off his face, but the urge to do so can still be heard in the way you speak.

"Nothing? Oh, sure! I totally believe you, as if you three..." You point an accusing finger at each of them, "...weren't spewing spitballs in my direction!"

The whole room is filled with silence and old Miss Joo is still as deaf as ever.

"We weren't aiming at you," Jisoo defends, leaning forward.

"We were trying to get it to the trash can over there!" Seungcheol points with his thumb, but you don't turn around to look.

"I'm not falling for that and you idiots should know that. Oh, but I guess idiots like you don't really understand anything at all." You feel the tone in your voice getting angrier by the second.

"Fine, fine. We're sorry, okay?" Jeonghan says, but the smirk on his face is still evident.

You squint your eyes and tap your foot impatiently on the floor.

"Right, guys?" Jeonghan glances over at his accomplices.

"Sure," Seungcheol says.

"Sorry," Jisoo mumbles.

"You better be. Just quit bothering me." Turn on your heel, you walk away.

Thankfully, you get to reprimand the three of them for their stupidity. Even so, you can hear them whispering behind your back. Returning to your chair, the tension is thick as you feel everyone's eyes on you. Once you sit down, their gazes divert elsewhere because Miss Joo announces it's time for lunch.

The high school cafeteria is filled with boisterous students, making it almost impossible to move around. You carefully weave through the winding crowd, in search of Seungkwan, your boyfriend, while tightly clutching the lunch tray close to your body. Your eyes sharpen upon nearing each table, trying to identify the people seated down.

The crowd begins to thin when you catch sight of him. He's by himself at the table, staring straight at you with a faint smile on his visage, then you notice he hasn't touched his food yet. Obviously, someone's been waiting. You grin widely, approaching the table he reserved for. Fortunately, lunch time is the most forgiving part of a school day. It's also a good thing because you get to spend time together.

"Took you long enough," Seungkwan comments as you arrive.

"I got stuck in the crowd and I had a hard time searching for you because of that," You respond, still standing in front of the table.

"I noticed," he says with a smirk.

"You could've called me!" I grumble.

"It was fun watching you get lost," he says with a chuckle. "Now sit down already! I want to eat!"

"Alright, alright," You say, placing the tray down and settling into the chair.

In the blink of an eye, a football crash lands on the table, knocking out your lunch and hitting you in the face. Food splatters you from head to toe in less than a second before the whole tray falls on your lap. You lose hearing for a while, your ears ringing. The pain on your face throbs mercilessly.

You look up, vision blurry, still dazed from the hit. Your eyes make out the empty space in front and before you can assume he's left, you feel him tugging you out of your seat. The other students simply look at what all the commotion is about. Turning to the direction where the football came from, your vision clears to see Jeonghan, Jisoo, and Seungcheol with guilt-stricken faces. Unsurprising.

"I should've expected those jerks to have done it again," You mutter.

Grabbing your bag, you stand up from the table and burst out of the cafeteria doors in frustration. This day has been pushing your buttons and you've had just about enough. Perhaps, even, too much. And those three just had to add up with the disasters of today.

"(Y/n)! Wait!" You hear Seungkwan yell.

Not wanting him to catch up, you quicken pace. Hot tears streak down your cheeks as you continue to run away. His constant pleas for you to stop being rendered useless by ignorance, however, he still manages to catch up with you. His hand seizes your wrist, but you yank it from his clutch and push him away.

"(Y/n)!" He calls again, stopping in his tracks.

You don't look back and proceed further on through the corridors, not knowing where to take yourself.

History class helps tone down your emotions, distracting you from the reminder that this day is cursed. The quiz temporarily brings your thoughts to concentrate on the task at hand except for the irritatingly scratchy uniform the clinic let you borrow. Just as how your luck ran out today, so does the ink of your pen. Not to mention, writing an essay to a question which isn't even second to the last of the whole paper. Fingers scrambling through the contents of your pencil case, you realise that this is the last pen.

"Hey," you whisper, attempting to get your seatmate's attention.

No response.

"Hey," you say a little bit louder, worried that she didn't hear you at first.

Her head merely turns to the side, sending a glare your way. Before you can ask, she goes back to answering the paper.

"I need to borrow a pen," you persist.

She leans her head to the other side, letting her hair fall over her face to block you from view.

"Please, I'm still not done," you beg, glancing at the clock. Just a few more minutes and the quiz was going to end.

"I really need to bo—"

"(L/n)!" Mr. Ho's voice booms from behind and you flinch.

He snatches the paper from beneath your arm and shoots an angry look. All you could do was sink into the chair in humiliation since you had no idea how to defend yourself. To him and everyone else in this room, it did look like you were trying to cheat. Therefore, you’re sent to detention for the second time this day.

Mr. Ho's class was the last, so technically dismissal comes next. Right now, as you sit in the same seat during the previous detention session, the bell is all you have to wait for. At least the trio didn't get into any trouble this time or you'd be spending the last period with them. Sleep gets the best of you and you’re consciously aware that you were snoozing off, although decide to let it come. You are really exhausted after all you've experienced.

A crackle of thunder jolts you awake from a dream. Your eyes snap open and see the lack of people in the detention room... which means you're alone.

Wait, what time is it? You lean over to check the clock and it's FIFTEEN MINUTES PAST DISMISSAL TIME?! WHY DIDN'T ANYBODY BOTHER TO WAKE ME UP? Hoisting the bag onto your shoulders, you hurry out of the room and scurry the hallways. Only a few students are left, but they have varsity training or cheerleading practice, anything to keep them busy and give them an excuse to stay late in school.

The rain pounds on you when you exit the doors of the school. From head to toe, you are once again sullied. Well, this has officially ruined the whole day. Unstoppable tears, you've been holding in all this time, flow out of your eyes.

Without re-evaluating your thoughts, you run away from the school and hurry home. The cold wind stings your skin and the reoccurring flashes of lightning blind your vision. Hurried steps splash large puddles on the pavement, drenching yourself even more. You really didn't care about anything anymore, so enduring the bad weather didn't matter at all.

Sooner than you could have expected, you reach the bus stop. You don't take long to go sit under the shed because you’re just absolutely done. Panting and soaking wet, you lean against the cold glass pane. You don’t even notice Seungkwan, who seems to be in shock at your condition, come in.

"You're soaking wet! Why didn’t you wait for me?" He asks sitting beside you.

"I'm just having the most terrible day of my life and I don't want to talk about it!" You didn't expect to yell and you bet Seungkwan didn't too because his eyes widened flabbergastingly.

A fresh set of tears begins to pour down again. By then you knew you've made another error you'd immediately regret. Seungkwan’s face is rewritten all over with worry as he reaches for you, but you push his hand and scoot away, then wrap your arms around yourself. He decides to leave it alone for the time being, allowing you to sit with your emotions. Soon, the bus arrived and he stood up, hand outstretched to you.

“Let’s get home.”

You shut the door and click the locks in place. Slamming your back against it, you slide down to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest and sobbing. Hopefully, after you give vent to all this exasperation, you'll eventually tire out and go to sleep. The saltiness of your tears blends with sweat, hair sticking to your face.

"(Y/n)?" Seungkwan’s voice is muffled behind the door.

You suck in a breath and stay quiet. He still hasn’t left after dropping you off at your house out of concern.

"Open the door, please?" He gently knocks. "I just want to talk for a little bit. Maybe it will make you feel better."

"Go home, Seungkwan. I'm fine." I know I can lie better than this, but why didn't I?

"No, let me in and we'll talk about it. You can't carry all your problems alone," he says causing you to stiffen.

Reluctantly, you sigh and get up from the ground. Your eyes meet Seungkwan’s lush brown irises the second the door opens. He comes in and engulfs you into a delicate embrace, rubbing your back and kissing your cheek. That's when you let it all out completely.

You cry onto his shoulder uncontrollably, but he tightens his hold on you. Now that you think of it, you feel like a bunch of lumber being chained together to keep from falling apart.

"(Y/n), what's wrong? Did they do something to you again?" He pulls away, his eyes scanning your face worriedly.

You tug him back, shaking your head. As much as it's embarrassing to know that you've already stained his shirt with tears, the crying doesn't stop. For a while, you're standing in the middle of the room, cradled in each other's arms and not letting go. Soon, the sadness turns into sniffles and you’ve calmed down a bit.

"Are you ready to talk about it now?" The tone of his voice by your ear is so timid, his breath barely grazing the skin.

"I don't know how to say it without making a racket," you reply.

"Just say what you have to." He smiles at you lovingly, taking your hand and intertwining your fingers together.

You inhale deeply then sigh.

"Today has been very... horrible. First, I forgot to bring my towel to my shower stall, so I had to wait for everyone to leave. Second, my locker got jammed. Not only was I late, but I also didn't have the materials for math class. Third, I got sent to detention for that and then Jeonghan, Seungcheol, and Jisoo had to ruin the essay I was writing. FYI, that was a punishment from Miss Kang!" You pause to catch your breath before continuing again.

"Because of that, I got mad at them. Oh! And because they shot a spitball at me, too! Fast forward to lunch, they take their petty revenge on me and thanks to them, I had to borrow an itchy uniform from the infirmary! Then here comes History where my last pen died while I was taking a quiz! And I thought it was such a good idea to borrow a pen from my seatmate, but instead, I get myself caught. Mr. Ho sends me to detention again and I fall asleep, then wake up fifteen minutes after dismissal time. Guess what? We aren't even at the best part yet!" You throw your hands up in the air in utter frustration.

"That does sound like a rough day," Seungkwan opines.

"Oh, believe me, it is," You say, rolling your eyes.

"So, what's the best part?" He shuffles closer.

"I forgot to wait for you, so I ran back in the pouring rain." You finish, shutting down the whole story.

Seungkwan stands up, and with your hand in his, you do too. He moves his palms to cup your cheeks and tilts your head to meet his eyes. The warmth of his touch makes you close your eyes and hum in content, further calming down. Before you could open your eyes again, his lips meet yours and you kiss back. When he pulls away, you grab him by the collar of his shirt and kiss him more passionately than a while ago. If this is the only good you can get from this extremely horrible day, you’re taking every single bit of it while it lasts.

"Whoa," He gasps just as you part.

"I'm sorry, I kinda got carried away," you shyly apologise, sheepishly scratching the back of your head.

"It's alright," he says before reading the time on the clock. "You know what, after all, you've been through today, I think you deserve some rest."

You haven't had the chance to say otherwise when suddenly he’s dragging you by the arm and you let out a squeal.

"Kwannie! I still need to do my science homework!"

"For science? Nice try, but you don't have science tomorrow," he chuckles.

You puff your cheeks and glare at him.

"You look adorable when you do that, not terrifying. Now go to sleep."

"But Seung—"

"Sleep."

"Kwan—"

"You need to sleep."

You groan in defeat. 

"Fine, but only if you sleep with me." You point a finger at him. Seungkwan thinks for a while before he nods in agreement.

"Hooray!" You move over and let him lay down beside you.

"What made me do this?" He asks while getting in.

"Your love for me, duh. Now, goodnight, darling," you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Goodnight to you, too. I love you," He says, pecking your nose.

You tuck into your blankets then close your eyes.

"I love you, too. And thank you for comforting me earlier,"

"You're welcome. You needed it," He replies, standing up to turn off the lights.

When he comes back to the bed, he wraps you in yet another tender embrace. You snuggle into him and bury your face into his chest, to which he responds to with a giggle.

If this is how my day ends, then I'm positively sure tomorrow is going to be a new day.

#caratwritersclub #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen drabbles #seventeen x reader #svt #boo seungkwan #seungkwan #seungkwan imagines #seungkwan x reader #svt seungkwan #svt boo seungkwan #seventeen seungkwan #seventeen boo seungkwan #boo seungkwan x reader #boo seungkwan imagines #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen high school au #kpop imagines #high school au

[cl-01-kestis]

My Little Rebel - Inquisitor!Cal Kestis x Female Rebel!Reader | Part 10

Summary: You make a quick visit to Bogano and come across a small BD unit that once belonged to your beloved.

(No Cal in this one unfortunately, but this is more or less a filler chapter to get the real story going)

Warnings: none

You woke up to the sound of scratching, tiny little claws scraping the outside of the back window of the Mantis. You jolted awake with a scream and fell off your bed when your eyes landed on a small furry creature with massive brown eyes staring up at you through the visor, squeaking before hopping away at such a speed you blinked and you missed it.

You bumped your head on the floor and groaned as you lifted yourself up by grabbing onto the mattress and housing yourself up with a sharp grunt. It was daylight, the sun gladly wasn’t pouring into your room but it illuminated the bright green grass in front of you through the visor, followed by small patches of mud and the company of friendly looking creatures exactly like the one you woke up to looking at you.

Merrin was the first to greet you as she walked into your room and gave you a fresh set of clothes to put on, a black polo neck and your old poncho which she gratefully washed. She also layed out black combat trousers and black boots, reassuring you that all the mud stains had been washed out from Bracca.

You graciously thanked her and went for a long warm shower, washing the night away as you ran your fingers through your soapy hair and thought about the events hours before. In the refresher next to the shower cubicle, there was a small mirror next to you, level with your head, another one was at your hip, obviously for Greez.

You looked in the mirror and came to the realisation that last night was in fact real, eyes landing on two bloody hickeys which were able to be hidden with your hair. They rest on the side of your neck slope and small teeth marks were seen around them. You mentally scolded Cal, if he was here right now you would’ve throttled him. Thankfully the polo covered up both of the marks and you saved yourself from explaining anything to the crew, especially Cere.

You quickly changed and managed to get to the dining table within half an hour of waking up. Cere greeted you whilst reading off the holopad on the table, eyes scanning over the articles and information about the latest news throughout the galaxy. Your stomach grumbled as you stuffed your face with Greez’s good home cooking, complimenting his food whilst you were chewing on it which made him scoff.

“If you chew any quicker you might just choke!” Greez yelled from the cockpit, shaking his head dismissively as he waddled out and crossed his top set of arms. Cere hummed and Merrin simply chuckled, picking at her food unlike you and taking her time as she ate.

“So, what’s the agenda for today?” You asked curiously, eyes darting to each crew member until Cere cleared her throat and switched off her holopad.

“There’s something I need you to find before we go and start the journey to restore the Jedi order. We’re on a planet called Bogano, here you will hopefully find a droid named BD1” Cere turned in her seat to look at you, her voice all serious and stern as she instructed you about what to do. You listened to her closely and nodded your head once she finished, trapping your chin between your index finger and chin as your thoughts wondered.

“A BD unit? Heard of it but can’t say I’ve seen one of them” You shrugged, grabbing your poncho off the couch and slipping your head through. Cere opened up her hologram once again and shuffled around the blue glowing keyboard which popped up in front of her hands. She typed something into the system and then, a small photo hovered in front of your face. It was a droid, a small one with two little legs and two eyes, one big and one small. It was painted red and white and two antennas were played at either side of its rectangular head.

“This is BD1, he shouldn’t be hard to find, I’ll give you directions as to where his location could be. But be careful, oggdo’s lurk around this part of Bogano” Cere told you in a warning voice. You nodded and gave the holophoto of the droid one last look before turning around and heading to your room to get your lightsaber.

As you walked to the back of the ship, Merrin emerged from your room with your pile of dirty clothes from the day before, in her hand was your lightsaber.

“Looking for this? Sorry for the intrusion, I was going to start the laundry” The Nightsister threw your lightsaber to you in mid air, you caught it effortlessly and smiled.

“No need to apologise” You assured her, stepping to the side to let her through as she held onto the small pile of clothes and blankets. Merrin was out of her Nightsister uniform, replaced with a dark grey sweater and black jeans, but she still had her necklace on.

After Merrin walked away, you went inside you room go check that you had everything. You clipped your lightsaber to your belt and looked around your room quickly before leaving.

“You won’t need much for this mission, only your lightsaber” Cere yelled, her voice echoing from the main part of the ship which made you jolt in your spot momentarily. “Okay!” You yelled back, walking back to the main part of the ship after closing your bedroom door behind.

You arrived at the exit of the ship and regarded Cere with a single nod, turning your head to look out of the open runway and seeing how overwhelmingly green everything was. You saw the occasional glimpse of one of those creatures you saw when you woke up, their bushy tails wagging in the air as the pushed themselves into their little holes in the ground. Bogano looked strange, it consisted of multiple bits of land that were divided by an incredibly long drop. You knew you had a bit of an exercise ahead of you.

Just as you were about to leave, you heard someone clear their throat to gain your attention. Merrin stood behind you with a bag over her shoulder, smiling as she walked to stand next to you and look out to Bogano.

“Thought you might like a bit of company,” The Nightsister smiled, walking out and onto the ramp whilst closing her eyes and inhaling the fresh air through her nose.

“No need to drag me around though, I’ll be just fine” She smirked, making a certain action with her hands before vanishing into a green hue and appearing once more, only a few meters away. You looked at her in amazement and smiled, running down the ramp to catch up to her and enjoy the adventure ahead.

-

Cere sat impassively at the table, still scrolling through her holopad and resting her cheek on her hand as she sighed. Greez took notice to her strange behaviour and sat down a cup of red tea next to her before shuffling into the seat opposite her.

“What’s going on? You’ve never been this quiet” The small man informed, sipping on his own tea as Cere let out another sigh and shook her head. She placed the holopad flat on the table and rubbed her head as if she was irritated by something. The once-Jedi didn’t say much as she picked up the cup from the table and took an experimental sip, humming pleasantly before looking up and meeting Greez’ gaze.

“It’s about Cal” Was all Cere had to say for Greez to start panicking on the inside, his body freezing and eyes full of worry.

“W-what about him?” Greez never sounded so wary about something in his life, Cere simply pursed her lips and tried keeping her emotions contained.

“He knows (Y/N)” Cere’s voice was quiet, almost disappointed that she’d maybe chose the wrong person for such a task to bring back the Jedi order, she was starting to regret everything.

“Knows her? How so?” Greez asked curiously, feeling a little less uneasy and more curious about Cere’s words. The two crew members stayed silent for a few seconds before Cere cleared her throat and blinked a few times.

“I saw them on the battlefield on Kashyyyk” Cere had the face of a disappointed mother, shaking her head to herself as Greez’ eyes widened by a few inches.

“What like- like fighting or-“

“Together, Greez, they were kissing-” Cere stood up from her seat and rubbed her forehead whilst approaching the exit, stopping as she watched you and Merrin in the far distance. The two of you were already near the tower, Merrin was laughing as you tried catching up with her, clearly out of breath whereas she was perfectly fine. Cere was about to smile but then remembered everything she’d seen you do, everything she witnessed and wish she hadn’t.

“She isn’t on the dark side which I’m glad to say, her heart is still full of light and she has good intentions... but Cal- maker I never would’ve guessed” Cere laughed in anything but a positive manner, holding onto the arch of the exit as her other hand lay flat against her head. Greez had spun around in his seat as he watched Cere stress.

“One thing you Jedi never learn, you can’t control attraction Cere, it’s such a diverse thing” Greez sounded like he was defending you but Cere shot him a stone cold glare and he immediately regretted saying anything at all.

“Jedi are never permitted to form attachments, she should know better than to mess around with someone like an Inquisitor” Cere looked up at the view once again and noticed you and Merrin were gone, out of sight and leaving her to wonder where the both of you were. She crouched and sat down on the open ramp, feeling the warm sun kiss her forearms and face as she thought hard about the sight she saw. She was so angry, but Greez had a point. She knew deep down you weren’t bad, you had determination to bring back the order and you weren’t that weak to be manipulated by an Inquisitor. But she was worried about your safety, Cal could kill you at any moment if he could, he could’ve certainly killed you on Kashyyyk. But why didn’t he? She may never know.

-

“The little guy should be here” Merrin’s voice echoed out into the large spacious tomb, looking around at the ground with confusion written over her grey face. You pursed your lips and walked about, checking for any holes or cracks that might be of any significance. The air in the strange hidden tomb was surprisingly mild, you weren’t cold and the sun was pouring in from the top of the tomb where the ceiling was missing.

“Does he respond to force signals?” You asked curiously, continuing to feel around the ancient walls of the Bogano temple. Merrin furrowed her brows and went silent for a few moments.

“Come to think of it, he does, he was taught how to identify force signals long before you showed up, so it might be worth the try” The Nightsister nodded, pointing at the middle of the floor where a golden plate shaped as a circle rest. You walked over to the plate and carefully perched yourself on it without too much hassle. Merrin sat down a meter away from you to give you space for meditation.

“BD-1 will recognise the signal if you project it far enough, I don’t know much about meditation but it’s best that you picture the planet, think about the life there, think of yourself as the air that surrounds it” Merrin said as she crossed her legs, watching you as you copied her and closed your eyes. It didn’t take long for you to shift into your meditation, you felt at peace with the world of Bogano and done as Merrin told you to do.

You started picturing the grass, how green it was when you woke up and when you first set foot on it. You pictured the muck and dirt that accompanied the grass, making a nice blend of green and brown all over the planet. You thought about the odd layout of the planet, the way you and Merrin had to jump from platform to platform, even go down a few zip lines and climb up vines in order to get to the tower. You heard water flowing, the water surrounding you and Merrin. Your palms lay flat on the ground and you felt the concrete, feeling through it’s every inch and letting out a calm sigh as the life of Bogano flowed through the force and into you.

In the distance, within the tomb, a beep was heard.

You opened your eyes quickly, eyes searching for something and eventually landing on the tiniest droid you’d ever seen. It was BD-1, the exact droid you were looking for! The small droid crawled up shyly to you and Merrin, beeping curiously a few times.

You knew what it was saying, smiling to yourself as you waved your hand to signify you meant no harm.

“I don’t believe it” Merrin breathed out, disbelief swirling in her red eyes as she leaned down to encourage BD-1 to come closer. As if recognising the woman, BD-1 chirped in excitement and raced towards the Nightsister, practically pouncing on her and landing on her shoulder, his wide rectangular head nuzzling against hers which caused Merrin to laugh.

“I’ve missed you too, BD” Merrin awkwardly hugged the droid, picking him up and setting him in front of you. You weren’t sure how to interact with the droid, it was the first time you’d ever seen something so small and you felt scared in case you’d crush the droid.

“BD-1, this is (Y/N), she’s a Jedi” Merrin gestured her hand towards you and BD-1 let out a surprised chirp.

‘Really?’ It asked curiously, looking up to Merrin, It’s large lense adjusting before it turned back to look at you. You smiled at the droid and nodded.

“Indeed I am, it’s nice to meet you, BD” You bowed politely to the droid and earned a pleased beep.

“You can understand him?” Merrin raised a brow and turned to look at you, surprised at her sudden discovery. You let out a brief chuckle and nodded.

“I was taught how to speak to droids whilst I was a Padawan, when my memory was wiped the mechanics on Yavin taught me more, I know up to 4 different droid languages” You said, acting like it wasn’t a big deal but Merrin thought otherwise. She didn’t say anything in reply but you shuffled through her thoughts and smiled to yourself when you realised how impressed she was at your skills.

BD-1 spun around in excitement, jumping on your leg and tilting its head to the side.

‘I am at your service!” The droid informed happily.

“What’s he saying?” Merrin asked.

“He’s just saying he’s at my service, should we get going?” You looked up at the sky and realised it was getting pretty dark, you wondered how long you were out for with Merrin. The Nightsister hummed and stood up, dusting herself off and cursing in her own language when she realised that her backside had gotten all wet with the water on the ground. You chuckled at her attitude and stood up as well, but you gasped in surprise when BD-1 bounced up onto your shoulder and chirped happily in your ear.

‘Are we going on an adventure?’ The small droid asked as you and Merrin started venturing out of the temple.

“Yeah, we are” You smiled, making sure not to stretch your neck too much as you turned to look at BD who stood comfy on your shoulder.

The small droid beeped with joy once more, holding onto you tightly as you and Merrin started sliding through the hole where you both came from, returning to the mantis and hopefully starting the mission.

#star wars #x reader #cal kestis x you #cal kestis x reader #cal kestis #jedi fallen order #jedi reader

[smeraldos]

Cheers

Summary: In a time of shoulder pads and tight deadlines, no one gives you the time of day. Good thing silver linings exist, like your annoyingly perceptive co-worker.

retro office!AU

Characters: Taehyung x Reader

Word count: 1K+

Notes: ‘70s slang: jiving = kidding, stone cold fox = a person who's beyond attractive Computer Space: space combat arcade video game Shakespeare refs: Viola disguises herself as a young man (Cesario) in Twelfth Night...basically if you’ve watched She’s The Man, you get the gist.

“All the world’s a stage,/And all the men and women merely players...” - As You Like It

"How's our employee of the month?" 

Without looking up, you know Taehyung has stopped by, leaning against your cubicle like usual. He's the only one who calls you that. To everyone else, the best is Jeongguk: choice analyst, Wharton wonder-whiz, second to none. 

You’re just "a team player." Sweet talk for lackey. You do the work no one else wants to do, but this evening, your boss caved and assigned you the report he'd normally give Jeongguk. The bad thing: he'd informed you on a Friday night, so you still haven't gone out for dinner.

Taehyung dangles a Kit Kat in front of your screen.

You dismiss it with a swat, making it drop on your keyboard with a clack. Now the debt your client owes is 1343400000000 bucks.

Stellar.

"Shoot," Taehyung says, rushing over the second you bury your face into your palms. "Sorry, I--" 

His apology dies when you uncover your face, laughing. 

"What are you sorry for," you ask lightly, gesturing to your screen. "Look at those zeroes. It's like we've won the fricking lotto."

Hesitantly, Taehyung takes a glance. His handsome face -- yes, you admit he's a stone cold fox (although the hottest thing you’ve seen of late was your monitor burning up) -- is devoid of humor.

"Oh, come on," you insist. "I can fix this in a jiffy. Why don't you ask me that question? The one we always joke about."

Instead, Taehyung offers you a look soft with concern. “What’s wrong?” He asks.

"Work, obviously.” You lay your head on the desk, too tired to open up your heart like Pandora's box. “My life. You not asking the right question."

"Fine. You want me to ask you how it feels to win a million?”

“Feels like a scam, thank you."

Taehyung sighs, claiming Jeongguk’s seat next to you. "You can't keep doing this, _______. Take a break."

"Tell that to Jeongguk."

"He isn't here."

"That's funny, I didn’t notice," you say, and it’s cruel, but you don’t care. You’re sick of being in Jeongguk’s shadow. "You should get going, too. Wouldn't want to be left behind with the bottom feeder."

Swiftly, you sit up, correcting the debt and letting the formulas do the trick. When you reach over to click on another sheet, you realize your mouse isn't there. Or anywhere under your desk, for that matter.

"Taehyung," you bite out, "stop jiving. Give me back my mouse."

"You're not a bottom feeder."

"Thanks. Now give it here." You pin him with a look that leaves no room for leeway, holding out your hand expectantly.

He places his on top. "I'm being serious."

"So am I." 

"Listen,” he says, “you're not Jeongguk."

"Clearly,” you quip. “Life would be a lot easier if I were."

Again, Taehyung sighs, visibly exasperated. "Jeongguk this, Jeongguk that. You’ve gotta stop putting him on some pedestal and beating yourself up because you can’t be like him. You’re ruining your own worth, you know.”

"Like I have any to begin with,” you scoff. “No one thinks, Oh, _______, now there’s a woman I respect. No one. Shelley is the only other woman in the office and she's been at this gig for years. She's always giving me flack. I know she's angling for a promotion that should have happened a long time ago and everything's a competition, but I can't survive being me. I just can't." Outside your window, diners and disco clubs dazzle the night, washed out by the glare of your office. The stupid fluorescence is too strong, imposing a reflection of your cubicle onto the city.

"I know it’s not much," Taehyung starts, giving your hand a brief squeeze, "but if it's respect you want, you already have it. Let me give you my two cents, too?"

“Sure."

"Don't play their game. If you stick with Jeongguk’s level when it was meant to hold you back, you won't win." “So you're saying I'll lose?” There's an edge to your voice. Taehyung, of all people, should know the last thing you need is a friend shooting your hopes down.

"Think about what their game is based on in the first place. A system where men and women have equal value or one where women would always mean less?"

"That's why I'm fighting," you counter. "I have to prove them wrong."

"It's hard to prove anything when they're set on keeping you down."

"But I can try."

"Aren't you doing that already? And how did that turn out?" "I can't believe you," you seethe, ignoring the tears pricking your eyes. "I’ve worked way too hard for you to reduce it to nothing, you--" "I know,” he cuts in, gentle. “I know. You've worked your tail off, and no one deserves more credit than you. But if they won't admit that, if they see nothing, what's the point of playing their game?"

You don't want to know. All this time, you'd thought the best way to be seen was to beat the men at their own work, and that meant besting Jeongguk, who almost all your colleagues seem to worship. You'd adopted a tone as brisk as you walked, ditched your collar dresses for crisp pantsuits (the stiffer the shoulder pads, the better), and timed your work so you'd always finish before Jeongguk. Lately, your efforts seemed to bear fruit: you were invited to meetings and then there was the report your boss assigned. But having a foot in the door meant little when you had to act like a man for it. They still ushered you to the back, anyway, and no one asked for your opinion, let alone remembered your name or what you did. They just didn't care. And that hurt more than sticks and stones ever will.

"Nothing, alright?" You tell Taehyung at last, wiping your tears bitterly. "I get it now. All the world's a stage and I played the fool."

"Not the fool," he disagrees, taking your mouse out of Jeongguk’s drawer and plugging it back into your computer, "Cesario. And now you get to be Viola again."

Trust Taehyung to know you're referring to Shakespeare. You smile, shaking your head, and he pulls you up into a hug. 

"Welcome back, _______," he says. "Let’s celebrate with a round of Computer Space? It’s on me."

You laugh into his shoulder. “You’re such a sore loser, Kim.”

"Bogus. I wasn't playing seriously last time."

"We’ll see about that.”

#bangtanarmynet #taehyung x you #taehyung x y/n #taehyung x reader #taehyung scenarios #taehyung imagine #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #bts au fic #bts au #bts fluff #bts angst #my fic

[yuzukult]

under the moonlight || junmyeon & reader

title: under the moonlight pairing: junmyeon/suho x reader  genre: ceo!reader, hint of soulmate!au, slow-burn words: 8.4k notes: continuation to [city lights]’s junmyeon, journey to him healing his own heart after letting go of his first love for her to be with his best friend who so happens to be her soulmate (chanyeol) // did this because junmyeon deserves some love & also may be a second part + will profread when i get the chance!!

part one || final

Though the living room was filled with laughter and yelling from drinking games, Junmyeon’s attention was locked on the girl of his dreams who stands in the kitchen in the arms of her soulmate, face snuggled into his chest while mumbling a ‘thank you’ for the surprise birthday party that he’d planned for her. In response, he lets out a chuckle as he places a delicate kiss onto her forehead.

Junmyeon knew it would’ve been selfish if he neglected Chanyeol’s wishes when he barged into his bedroom of their shared apartment, hair disheveled with a stressed look washed over his face. “I can’t do this anymore, I need to be with her. She’s all I think about, night and day. I haven’t even had a real conversation with her yet I know everything about her... and I love but hate everything about her because she makes me feel like I can’t live unless it’s with her.” He was aware that the younger male was going through the side-effects of refusing a relationship with his designated soulmate, evidently on the brink of detonation. It was time to let her go, no matter how much he loved her. She belonged to Chanyeol. 

The moment Junmyeon picked up the phone to ask Chanyeol to check up on her while on his business trip, he sensed over the phone Chanyeol’s wariness at the sight of the girl’s frame in bed, shivering from a fever. It was that very second it became clear to him that Chanyeol was biologically her soulmate, someone she could never let go even if she tried. Both of their dreams would be flooded with the thoughts of each other, sleepwalking mid-day to meet unconsciously, and yearning for the embrace of one another though far apart.

Goodbyes were rough. But the goodbye with her especially was the worst. 

Telling her that she wasn’t made for him and that they couldn’t be together while her eyes were brimming with tears was the hardest moment of his life. Breaking the heart of the woman he still loved was never in his plans. But Chanyeol was his best friend and watching him deteriorate day by day was just as painful for himself. 

So he sacrificed his love so that they could be together.

“Junmyeon, you don’t know how much it means to me that you came.” She says, voice soft. They’re standing in the corner of the living room, separated from the group just enough to hear the other speak. “I know how uncomfortable it must be for—”

“Don’t say that.” He interjects, adjusting the black beanie that sits on his head. “I meant what I said that day months ago. Just because we aren’t together like that doesn’t mean I won’t be in your life anymore. You were more than just a girl I dated, I loved you.”

He lied. He still loves her. But he’d never say that.

She’s chewing on her bottom lip, hair cut shorter from their last exchange that strays fall out from the hair-tie and over her face. He wishes he could push it away and behind her ear but that’s crossing the line.

“I loved you too, Junmyeon. You know that.”

“But you love Chanyeol now.” He adds, grabbing his jacket off the coat rack. Junmyeon was ending his night earlier than the rest, claiming that he wasn’t feeling too well from having to wake up early and sleeping later for an assignment at work when really he couldn’t bear to watch the two of them together for long, his heart still healing. “And I’m happy that it’s working out.”

His first love stands there for a moment, silent, despite the sounds coming from the main area as she walks him toward the front door. “Why are you so quiet?” Junmyeon questions, raising a brow.

“Chanyeol and I talked about the topic of marriage.”

Marriage. He hasn’t even fully recovered from the break-up yet and she’s already moved on entirely. 

“But... I’m not ready. I still think of you.” The words would have been more comforting if it resulted with her in his arms instead.

“We both need to move on.” He sighs, one hand on the doorknob and his heart still in hers. “It’s going to take some time but it’ll be worth it in the end. The torture from being without him will stop.”

“How did you know?”

“Know about what?”

“That I had those side effects. I never told you about it.”

Junmyeon sighs, finally turning the handle to open the door. “You started looking more and more tired each day and you complained about it often. So I did some research to see what was wrong. It’s a side effect from denying your soulmate.”

Forcing himself into work everyday was hard.

After spending so much time with his first love, she was close to convincing him to drop his day job for a career in music. Working in a corporate office was gnawing on him alive, not to mention how unbearably stiff the suits were while he sat at his office for over 8 hours a day.

“Hey,” Someone says. Her voice is tender and calm, capturing his attention. “Junmyeon, right?” You were peeking your head into his cubicle, too short to completely reach over the walls.

You were the CEO of the company he worked at, the founder of a skincare line that you developed the formulas on your own with hands-on operations and testing, utilizing your degree received after University where you studied in the States. He’d only been part of the business team for a short period of time and hadn’t even gotten to meet you yet, despite how heavily involved you were on the floor.

“Yes, I’m Junmyeon,” He says quickly, breaking his gaze before standing up, bowing and extending his hand for a shake. “Sorry about that. Wasn’t expecting to see you.” You repeat his actions and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were mocking him.

“Sorry, it’s okay. I came unannounced. Should’ve probably called or something right?” You ask, scratching the back of your head agonizingly, slightly unsure how to act in social situations. “I just thought I could stop by to talk to you.”

“I’m available to talk. Something wrong?”

Straightening the pencil skirt that hugs your lower half, you grin cheekily at him. “I’ve been going around lately, trying to understand the jobs of the people who work here. We’ve been doing so well that I wanted to meet the people who were extremely involved in the impact. Would you like to go out for lunch with me?”

Blinking blankly, Junmyeon is taken aback. You— the woman ran an entire company with products on the shelves of huge department stores to high end private shops just for the elite to take him out to lunch?

He glances over at his lunch bag that sits on the corner of the desk, pausing for a moment. And almost as if you read his mind, you say, “We could always put it in the fridge for tomorrow. Come. Let me take you out for lunch, Junmyeon. Company’s treat!”

Dropping by your office before making way out, you snatch the jacket off the back of your office chair, slinging it over your shoulders.

Junmyeon just stands in the doorway entering in, leery about coming in any further. Despite you being the one asking him to tag along, he still felt the invisible wall between the two of you, a CEO and just some guy in the business department.

Your office was massive— the windows were stretched from corner to corner, ceiling to floor, with a view of the city that was breathtaking. On the opposite side had a glass wall, seeing out to the rest of the floor where employees work, but oddly enough you never had the blinds of it opened.

“Why are you standing there so awkwardly?” You chuckle, grabbing your wallet, phone and keys from the top of your desk. “You know that you can come in here, right? I don’t bite.”

“Sorry,” he mutters, rubbing his nape anxiously. “Just kind of feels like I don’t belong here.”

You roll your eyes, walking toward him and out the room as he follows, closing the door behind. “Junmyeon, you’re always welcomed in my office. Any problems you have are mine as well. Don’t hesitate to talk to me about anything, I own an entire company for God’s sake! I would do anything I can to help a fellow employee.”

In his department, you had a reputation. Men thought you were hot— so attractive that whenever you’d walk by and greet everyone on your way to your office, they’d drool, eyes never leaving your bare legs or bottom. Women were more of a split category; some resented you for gaining the attention of men so easily, others admire your hard work and ambitions, yet trying very hard to accommodate any of the employees’ issues personally. It was hard to please everyone.

“Johnny,” You call out your assistant, his desk sitting several feet outside of your office. “I’m having lunch with Junmyeon today.”

Johnny is a skyscraper. But when he’s sitting down, he seems so small next to you, almost like a little grocery store in the corner of the block of a big city while at his desk.

“So you’re ditching Eunwoo today?”

“Never said I agreed to having lunch with him. If he comes, just say I left. I’m having lunch with Junmyeon.”

Leaning back in his seat, he has his arms crossed against his chest, squinting at you. Junmyeon always questioned the relations between you and Johnny, but after observing the entire conversation, it seems like he’s just a concerned friend. Most likely why you keep him around.

“Should I say you’re having lunch with Junmyeon? Might piss Eunwoo off.” He says, gesturing toward Junmyeon when he says his name.

“Why are you trying to piss him off? I said I was over it.” You click your tongue, waving off Johnny in dismissal afterwards. “Whatever, I said I’m leaving. See you after lunch.”

“You’re probably wondering who Eunwoo is,” You unlock the doors of your car, opening the drivers side when Junmyeon stops in his tracks. “He’s my ex.”

“Wait— you’re driving?”

“Yeah, how else would we get there?” Sliding into the driver’s seat, he hesitates for a moment before following into the passenger side.

“Just didn’t think you’d be driving.” Junmyeon responds, putting on his seatbelt over his body. “Were you supposed to meet with your ex today?”

“He assumed.” Pressing the start button, the engine of the Audi roars, a sweet sound to any car enthusiast’s ears.

“You don’t think I drive?”

“More like... I thought you had a driver.”

You shake your head, pulling out of the garage of the company’s building, driving in the direction of a restaurant he’s not familiar with.

“Where are we going?”

“Pick: a five star restaurant or a restaurant that deserves it?”

“The latter.”

“A man after my own heart,” You joke, glancing over his direction with a sweet smile. “My favorite spot. It won’t take long.”

It’s a ramyun restaurant hidden within a large city without much foot traffic, but he wasn’t going to doubt your plans.

After handing the waiter back your menus with your orders, you rub your hands on your skirt sheepishly. “Uh, do you have a girlfriend?”

Shocked by the sudden question, Junmyeon’s jaw slacks.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, have you met your soulmate yet?” Once the words leave your mouth again, you groan at your lack of execution of holding small talk. “Sorry again, ignore that. Didn’t mean it like that.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend and no, I haven’t yet.” He thought your reaction was cute. It was understandable how people were so easily smitten by you. “Do you?”

“No,” You say, voice a bit disappointed but your face doesn’t show it. “But I’m too busy anyway. I meant to ask because you’ve been working endless hours and I was afraid it was taking you away from someone at home.”

You were worried about him. It was different from the way his first love showed that she cared, she was more of a person who showed that she was worried, less vocal than you.

“No,” He chuckles light heartedly. Coming into your car, he was tensed and intimidated by your presence, but seeing the way you stuttered your words made you seem more human than how the employees made you out to be. “I’m alone. No one is nagging at me at home.”

“Ah,” You say, tapping your fingers onto the wooden table. “I see. I’m really impressed with your work, Junmyeon. How did you get into your career field?”

“Just seemed simpler at the time,” He admits, leaning back into his chair. “It was an easy major that my group of friends were considering, and although I really wanted to pursue music, I knew I needed some stability.”

“Music?” You ask as the waitress comes by with glasses full of water as you bow your head in appreciation. “Are you still interested in it?”

“Mm, sometimes. I’ve produced some songs here and there, I enjoy working with my creative side.”

“Would you venture out of your comfort zone?”

“I mean, if I could I would. But I have bills to pay, so I stay where I am now and do the best I can at it.”

You’re quiet for a moment as the server comes by, delivering your bowls of ramyun to the table. The aroma coming from the food made your mouths water, and your stomach growling in hunger in the process. “Sorry,” Your cheeks flush pink. “I’m kinda hungry.”

“Don’t apologize,” A smile tugs on the edges of his mouth softly. “It’s natural.”

Your stomach tightens at his smile but you brush it off as just a reaction from starving yourself from yesterday’s lunch. Business has been blooming, taking time away from your everyday from actually taking care of yourself. Taking Junmyeon here was supposed to be a learning experience about him, something you said you’d try doing frequently with your employees, but getting to eat at your favorite restaurant was your own version of self-care.

“How would you consider working in my marketing department? Well, more of the design or creative team. I have commercials and clips they play in stores to produce, and if you’re interested, maybe you can dip your toes in that. Both working with music and filmography?”

Junmyeon stops in the midst of blowing the steam from his raging hot noodles, lips pursed. “Wait, what?”

After chewing a mouthful of the delicious ramyun that awakens both you and your tastebuds, you blissfully lean back in your seat. “Jesus, just one bite takes me away.” You compliment before sitting back up, preparing yourself for another spoonful. “What I’m trying to say is, if you’re interested, you should consider working in the marketing department. I can’t offer you a record deal, but I can get your foot in the door somewhere.”

“I haven’t shown you a portfolio or anything.” He says, sweat beads forming on his forehead, and he’s not sure if it’s from anxiety or the temperature of the noodles.

“You don’t need to. It’s a learning experience and you grow and improve as you go. I trust that if you enjoy it enough, you’d get better with it. If you don’t, that’s okay. Feel free to tell me and I’d be more than happy to put you back in the business department, hauling away with meetings and conversations with both men and women that you probably hate with a fiery passion.”

“You’re not serious, are you?”

“Do you want it or not, Junmyeon? I’m a busy woman, I’m trying to eat my noodles.”

Knocking on the tall wooden doors that lead into your office, he discreetly opens it slightly, peering before completely entering. He calls out your name, the gentlest sound you’ve ever heard as your head snaps in his direction. “You asked for me?”

“I did!” You point to the seat across from your desk, gesturing for him to get comfortable. 

“What could I do for you?”

You’re finishing up an email, eyes glued on the monitor before hitting the ‘send’ button before fully giving your whole attention to the male in front of you. “It’s been a week since you’ve started in your new department. How is it?”

You were right, it had been an entire week since you’ve last spoken, occasionally exchanging glances in the office, and Junmyeon can’t believe how quickly time had passed by. You had transitioned him in the marketing department, with hopes that he could get some more exposure to a different part of the industry since his dreams fit more with dipping into his artistic skills. He was enjoying the new experience so much that he had forgotten how much time had passed, assuming he’d only seen you several days go.

“It’s been a week already?” He says without thought, running his fingers through his lightly styled hair. You can’t help but notice the way he makes your breath hitch but you dismiss the feeling by clearing your throat. “I guess I’ve been enjoying it so much I haven’t even noticed how quickly time has passed.”

“That’s good to hear!” He actually seemed delighted with his new job. One of the perks of being in your position was being able to do things like this and see people change, see people be happy. If it fit your means to do it, you’d make it happen. “I’m glad. Please feel free to tell me if you’re having any issues. I’m flexible, if you’re not content with what you’re doing, I can always transfer you somewhere else within the company, or even back to where you were.”

“Can I ask something?”

“Sure, shoot. What is it?” You rest your arms on your large glass desk that seemed so tiny in your spacious office. 

He’s quiet for a moment, licking his lips in thought. “Why are you doing this? I didn’t think it was possible for me to... just switch out of my department and do something entirely new. I don’t have the skillset for it, nor a degree or anything.”

Shrugging, you purse your lips, eyes circling the room. “Because life isn’t easy. Not everyone is going to find what they enjoy in their high school years when they’re applying for colleges. Hell, college isn’t necessarily the place you’re guaranteed to find what you like anyway.”

“But you did?”

“I did, but I got lucky. I’ve witnessed enough people go through those feelings. Graduating from a university with a degree you worked hard to obtain in four years, only to realize that this isn’t what you want?” Taking a brief moment to organize your thoughts, you continue. “I want the people who work for me to be happy, Junmyeon. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for them, if it weren’t for people like you. In actuality, I think I work for everyone here since everyone is working to make my dreams come true. It’s only fair if I try to do the same.”

Junmyeon wasn’t quite sure why, but he was comparing you to his first love again. 

There was a huge difference between the both—few similarities like how independent the two of you were, how immersed in your careers you’d been, and how much you cared for other people. It’d been the first time in a while since he’d been so observant and drawn someone, so distracted from his ex that he found himself wanting to know more about you.

“That’s... selfless.” 

“Just a thought.” You grin, tapping the pads of your fingertips against your desk again. It’s a habit of yours when you’re dubious about your next action, he picks up. “Do you think you can show me some of the things you’re working on before they air?”

“I heard you got a new job,” Chanyeol says from beside, startling Junmyeon as he’s grabbing a couple pieces of pork onto his plate. “How’d you land such a great deal? You’re producing the commercial for that skincare line you used to work for, right?”

“Somewhat right,” Junmyeon responds, a bit distracted by cooking the raw meat, placing the completed ones on Chanyeol’s plate. “I still work for that company. They just transferred me out the department to try something new.”

“No way.” Chanyeol’s eyes are huge, but they’re bulging out his head from surprise. “How did that happen?”

Junmyeon shrugs however a smile sits brightly in his face. “CEO asked what I wanted to do, I told her, and here we are.”

“Sounds like she likes you.” Minseok interjects into the conversation, popping open another bottle of cold beer. “You won the heart of the big CEO lady already? Sounds like a Korean drama,” He says, wriggling his brows suggestively.

Junmyeon denies. “Honestly, she does this thing where she has lunch with several employees to get to know what they do everyday since there has been growth in the company.”

“So you’ve had lunch with her?” Jongin is in on the conversation now, eyes from all the men at the table glued into Junmyeon.

“Uh, yes?”

“So, it was a lunch date.” Sehun invites himself in.

“No, it was just a boss and employee lunch. What’s up with you guys?”

“You’ve never really... talked about a girl lately.” Jongdae points out faintly, almost like he’s scared to pull a nerve. “At least, not for this long.”

“She’s nice... I just don’t think someone like her would ever like someone like me, though. She’s attractive, nice, and caring— but guys, come on. She owns an entire skincare line that are on the shelves of every store.”

“Stop talking down on yourself,” Chanyeol’s speaking now, and his warm orbs are comforting when they meet with Junmyeon’s. “There’s no guarantee that you’ll meet your soulmate, especially since the age is coming up. Doesn’t hurt to try shooting your shot with her, right?”

The age. The age where once you turn thirty, your chances of ever meeting your soulmate declines almost to 2%. Junmyeon has already hit the ripe age of 29 with only a year left before his probability descends into the abyss.

“I can’t hit on her.” He furrows his brows, stuffing his cheeks with a bite of kimchi. “She’s my boss.”

“Be discreet. Give her some subtle hints. If she doesn’t reciprocate, then abort mission and pretend you were just being nice.”

Junmyeon rolls his eyes at his friends’ advices. They were constantly interrupting each other with new ideas after another before someone taps his shoulder. “Junmyeon?”

“Oh— hey. Hey!” He says your name; he always says it the same way, the way that it warms your heart to the point you just wish you could grab his arms to wrap around you so you could doused yourself in his scent. He had an impact on you but you held your composure. Maybe you were starting to crush on him, if you haven’t already, because he was just so kind but he’s the type to be kind to everyone.

“Uh, guys. This is my boss...” He introduces, scratching his head. He continues on naming the rest of his group, hesitant about the whole ordeal as you wave cheekily to them all.

“You guys can just call me by my name, I’m not Junmyeon’s boss outside of the office.” You turn to look at the older male, hands stuffed into the front pockets of your jeans.

Even in the horrible brightness of fluorescent lighting, you managed to still look seamlessly beautiful in Junmyeon’s eyes. Your attire was distinct from the everyday work apparel yet you still appeared put together. Maybe Junmyeon was the one crushing.

“Come join us!” Chanyeol says quickly, gesturing the seat on the other side of Junmyeon as Jongdae slides over to give you enough room.

Junmyeon clicks his tongue, feigning a hit to Chanyeol before looking over at you. “I’m sorry, are you here with someone? I don’t want to take you away from them or force you to sit with us if you don’t want to.”

“Ah, honestly, I was just going to order something off the menu and take it home to eat. Unless you don’t want me here?” 

“Oh, no, of course I want you here, come,” Junmyeon responds, tapping the empty seat beside him. Timidly, you shrug your shoulders before taking up the offer and settle at the side of Junmyeon. 

Throughout the night, being with Junmyeon and his friends let you discover a completely new side of him. With them, he was considered the ‘mother’ of the group, nurturing and looking out for the rest of them, despite not being the eldest. He’s admirable, so Yixing remarks, but also selfless because he never has himself on his mind other than his friends and family.

When Junmyeon excuses himself to the bathroom, you learn that he sacrificed his relationship with the girl of his dreams so she could be with her soulmate regardless of the fact that she didn’t want to be with him because he rejected her. You find out that Chanyeol was the friend, and that he wants nothing more than to help find happiness for him as well. 

You pay for dinner. Junmyeon argues with you about it for a brief moment before you jokingly threaten that his job was on the line and he pouts in return. You’re almost bold enough to tell him that if he lets you kiss his pout that he could pay.

“Uh... Why are you in my office?”

“You cancelled on lunch last time. And a few times before that. I wanted to come so I can spontaneously take you out for dinner instead.”

You squint your eyes at the male in front of you, throwing the pen in your hand on your desk heatedly. “Catch the hint? I’m not very interested in the idea of having lunch with you. Or anything, really.”

“The idea, but you haven’t done it yet.”

Eunwoo is probably the cutest guy you’ve laid your eyes on but after dating for three years, it became evidently clear that the two of you didn’t click at all. Girls were at his beck and call, and you were growing tired of having to tell him which girls had bad intentions. You felt like his mom. He’s too sweet but it was starting to hurt your pride a bit when rumors were going around that he was flirting with others so you immediately put a stop to the relationship. 

“Eunwoo,” You sigh heavily, leaning back in your swivel chair. It’s around 5:00PM at this point, your day filled with meetings and tasks regarding a new launch approaching soon. “This... is really sweet of you. But we broke up.”

“I’m obviously here to try again.”

“You’re so oblivious about women all the time! I’m tired of teaching you, I need someone who doesn’t need to be groomed to fit me.”

There’s a knock on the door, and both your heads snap toward the direction to only see Junmyeon’s head peeking into the room. “Uh, sorry, am I interrupting something? Johnny said I could come in.”

You wanted to call Junmyeon your own personal superhero because he’s standing there in what seems like his best work outfit, and you’re almost drooling at the sight of him. Maybe it was because it was already so late in the day, and he looks like he’s been at his desk for a long time since his tie is loosened around his neck, and a button is undone.

“No, please, come in.” Eunwoo’s glare could pierce through you right now but you keep your gaze away. 

“Sorry,” Junmyeon bows at the other male before Eunwoo takes a seat in the corner of the room where the black leather couches were. He wasn’t backing down any time soon. “I... finished the video.”

“Oh?” He’s handing you a small flashdrive that you take willingly, inserting it into your computer before clicking around on your desktop before you reach your destination.

“Do you have headphones or something?”

Your brows crinkle in confusion. “What?”

He pulls out his keys, flipping open a case that holds his AirPods, placing it into the palm of your hand as you tilt your head when he rounds your desk, helping you bluetooth the device in. “Why are we doing this again?”

“Just a bit embarrassed about my first project. I don’t actually want to see you watch it.”

Eunwoo has his legs crossed, eyes shooting darts in the direction of you. He must be bursting with jealousy with how Junmyeon is seemingly close to you, making his way back to the seat in front of your desk, settling comfortably. Eunwoo observes that this is definitely not the first time the other male has been in your office.

After a few moments, you pull the buds out from your ears, placing it back into the white case and returning it to Junmyeon. “Wow... I--... Honestly, Jun, that was one of the greatest things I’ve ever seen. I mean I have some notes, don’t take it the wrong way, but... this is different.”

“I hope you mean a good kind of different?”

“Of course.”

He’s gifting you that warm smile again. “Send them over. I’ll take a look and send you an updated version.”

“You like him.”

“Hm?” You hum heedlessly, typing away on the computer with your comments still fresh in your mind. Junmyeon had left your office moments before, taking his leave home.

“You have a crush on that guy. I just saw you give him that look.” Agilely turning your head to face your ex-lover, you heave out a sigh. “What look, Eunwoo?”

“You used to look at me like that. I remember it because it’s when I knew that you returned those feelings for me and I went for it.” 

Frustrated, you push your keyboard away. “What? I can’t just look at a guy now? All of the sudden you’re an expert at these things? And why does it even matter? We’re not together anymore.”

“Because he’s competition? What else?”

“Eunwoo, get the fuck out please.” You say through your gritted teeth before throwing a post-it note stack at him as he makes his way out your office. “Okay, okay! I’ll be back though!”

There’s another knock at your door. Glancing at the clock that hangs above your desk, it reads 8:30PM and you could have sworn you told Johnny to go home hours ago. If it wasn’t Johnny, then...

Getting up from the couch full of loose papers and your laptop, you walk up toward the door, swinging it open. “Eunwoo, didn’t I tell you to fuck off—”

“Uh, I take it that the guy in the room earlier was Eunwoo then?”

In a pair of grey sweats and a T-shirt, Junmyeon is standing in your doorframe underneath a baseball cap. In his hands are bags of takeout, raising it up for your viewing once your eyes laid on it.

“What’s this?” You step aside to let him in, watching as he reorganizes the papers on your coffee table and places them onto another part of the couch, setting up the food. “You didn’t seem like you were going to cave into having dinner with that guy, and the launch is happening soon. I figured you’d still be here and skip dinner.”

In all honesty, this is what you would’ve wanted Eunwoo to do. Back when the two of you were dating, you had been stuck in the same scenario— couped up in your office, drowning yourself in paperwork without any time to make back home until the night before the launch day to get ready for the event. You wanted Eunwoo to take notice, doing something similar as to this, bringing food to you instead of forcing you to go out when you didn’t have much time to spare.

“I— I don’t know what to say. Thank you, Junmyeon, really. I was starving, but with how security is at the door at this time of night, delivery would’ve been a bit of a hassle.”

“Don’t sweat it, boss.” He jokes as you sit on the couch and he plops himself onto a seat across from you. “I got you the ramyun you had last time from that place you took me.”

“You did? How’d you remember what I ordered?”

“It was so spicy, I smelt it and sneezed a couple times.” Snapping the disposable chopsticks, he hands you the pair. “Plus, who would forget a name like ‘the Diablo Ramyun’? There’s a picture of a dragon breathing fire right next to the name on the menu.”

Junmyeon kept you company that night. He eventually started reading Webtoon comics on his phone after having dinner, laying on the couch before falling into a deep slumber, mouth agape. Grabbing a spare blanket you kept for nights you spent in your office, you drape it over his body, and pulled off his hat.

He looks angelic like this— albeit he has drool streaming from the sides of his mouth. Not obligated to stay, but nonetheless he did, all because he didn’t want you to be alone or feel lonely. Although you insisted he should go home, he contends, eventually winning the argument by comfortably designating the spot on the couch to himself. 

You don’t miss those soundless nights in your office anymore. Junmyeon’s snoring along with your tumultuous typing sets a new standard of bliss.

It’s been about two months since that night and Junmyeon is frequent in your life. 

He’s on speed-dial when you want to try new restaurants or go to events that are in the city, and he never fails to come by your side to keep you company. Sometimes, his smile catches you off guard, fluttering your heart, but other times, you think he feels as though his presence is necessary because you gave him his dream job.

“So, rumor has it: Junmyeon sleeps over at the office.”

“What makes you say that?” 

Johnny eyes you suspiciously. “Other than the fact that he leaves your office bright and early in the morning with slightly damp hair with an outfit that’s just barely different from the day before?”

Your breath stops, but your fingers continue to tap away at an email. “Does he?”

“So, you sleeping with him?” You stiffen, scowling at your assistant. “No, I am not.”

“What’s he doing in here then?” 

“He just... sleeps over whenever I’m having a late night session.”

“Oh, so you are sleeping with him.”

“Johnny.” You say firmly. “I am not. He just keeps me company ‘cause I’m all by myself here and it’s dark out.”

He’s reclining in the armchair in front of your desk, toes pushing off the ground while rocking the seat. “Why don’t you just ask him out if you like him that much? Why are you wasting your time just... ‘keeping company’ instead of... being his companion.”

“I’m his boss.”

“And? That’s a sexy thing. He might like a strong, self-sufficient woman. Hell—I know I do. But you’re not into me, so I’m gonna help Junmyeon if I can’t help myself.”

Ears now crimson, you admit defeat and lounge in your large work chair with a cumbersome sigh, playing along with his game. “I don’t have time to date.”

“He’s here at least once a week spending the night with you. You have time, and if you don’t, he’ll make the time to be with you.”

Pausing a moment in thought with a hum, you hit the tip of your fingers against the glass desk. “I’m not his type.”

“Oh hush, I see the way he looks at you. He thinks you’re gorgeous.”

Pursing up your lips, you assert, “I don’t believe that. What if I meet my soulmate?”

“Stop doubting your looks, he practically salivates at the sight of you that it’s all over the floor. Also, that soulmate thing? That never stopped you from dating Eunwoo, so why is Junmyeon any different?”

You shrug, playing with the pen in front of you. “His ex dated him and ended up being with her soulmate.”

“You honestly think you’re going to meet your soulmate? Tell me. You were in that research group for a couple years, what’d you gather from that?” If it wasn’t for HR, you’d probably have you hands wrapped around Johnny’s giraffe neck by now.

Back in University, you decided to partake in the Soulmate Research Group for your co-op program, rationalizing that this could help you find your ‘the one.’ The group resulted in slapping you into reality, educating you the chances of finding your soulmate had declined to almost none when considering the probability. It was the worst year of your life, having to come to terms that this fairy-tale that everyone in your life had made love seem was just something that only lucky people got to cooperate in.

“I... yeah, I know. It’s just so many goddamn people met their soulmate already, what about me? What makes me so different from the bunch?”

Johnny says your name, this time sweetly with a tone he never uses. “I never met my soulmate either. But Junmyeon is almost hitting 30, right? Imagine how he’s feeling. He can’t even get laid by a pretty girl that he sleeps in her office for on the most uncomfortable couch, let alone find his soulmate.”

“Do you like me?”

“What kind of question is that?” He glances at you quizzically, fixating his attention back under the hood of your car, twisting off the cap of your car sump, checking the oil levels. An oil light had popped onto the dashboard a couple days ago and you texted Junmyeon what he recommended to do, only for him to dispute that he’d check it himself.

“I don’t know, just answer it. Do you like me?”

He chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief as he wipes the oil rod with a rag. “Of course I like you. Why else would I hang out with you and change your oil?”

“No,” You groan, leaning against your front headlights, slouching in annoyance. “Like... not as a friend. As a woman. More than a friend, someone you want to date.”

He stands, slack-jawed. 

“Listen— I totally get if you don’t see me in that way, but Johnny said he saw the way you looked at me, and I figured, ‘hey, why not try to ask him out’ so—“

“Of course I see you that way. Who doesn’t? I kind of just assumed you weren’t into me since you were always rejecting my advances.”

“Advances?”

Lifting up the dirty rag in his greasy, stained hands, the sides of his mouth twitches upwards. “Like I said, why would I change your oil? Plus, how many nights have I slept in your office on that god awful couch? I also have a toothbrush in your bathroom. And spare underwear. Need I say more?”

Chewing on your bottom lip and watching as he finishes up, closing the hood of your car, you tap your shoes anxiously against the concrete ground. “Can I ask you something else?”

“What is it?”

“Can I kiss you?”

You can already imagine how difficult showering is going to be later, but with Junmyeon’s plush lips pressed against yours, how could you complain about his tarnished hands underneath the fabric of your shirt, caressing the skin of your waist?

Guiding your hips to sit onto the hood of your car, your arms snake around his neck, playing with the longer strands of his hair that brush against his nape. The way he kisses feels like he’s going to suck the air out of your lungs but you couldn’t care less— you finally had him in your embrace and you weren’t going to let go.

He’s amiable, even though it’s contradicting that he’s tugging on your lower lip between his teeth, your lips swollen and plump from the aggressive make-out session. He doesn’t push too far, just right where you’re comfortable, especially when you’re in your opened garage out for your neighbors to see. 

You’re not sure how much time has passed but he’s already claimed the territory in the middle of your legs, towing you close with a grip on your thighs. Placing the palm of his hands on either side of you on the car, he grins cheekily after pulling out of the kiss, heavy pants against each other’s face.

“Did my boss just make-out with me?” You slap his chest, rolling your eyes in unison. “Stop it. I know you’re enjoying this, I feel it.” Wrapping your arms around his lower frame, you pull him close, pressing your crotch against his as his groans. “Now you stop it. I’m not taking you here.”

Junmyeon is a gentleman. He declares that he wouldn’t be taking you anywhere near the bedroom until he takes you out on a proper date, in spite of the fact that you both had broken his rule of no kissing and no sex before a date. 

If you thought that you had everything you wanted before, you were wrong. Not until you met him.

“I met my soulmate.”

Straightening the paperwork on your desk, pretending to preoccupy yourself from this conversation and stay cool, you place the manila envelopes flat back on your desk, eyes eventually locked on the figure in your office. “Okay?”

“This means we can’t go back to what we ever were again...”

Feelings of uncertainty arise in your stomach—it’s obvious it’s jealousy. Was it because he found his soulmate and he was never coming back or that you haven’t even met yours? 

Eunwoo stands in the middle of the room, hands in the pockets of his dress pants, contemplating what to say next. 

“We’re not together anymore.”

He knows this—he knows this so well with the amount of times you remind him that it’s embedded in his brain, nonetheless in the general picture of things, Eunwoo always thought that you’d find your way back home and into his arms. He’d tell you this, despite the amount of times you’ve rejected him, but hearing now that he really won’t come back because he has a soulmate hits different. 

Maybe Eunwoo had been a back-up plan. There’s never 100% bliss in a relationship, and you never saw yourself getting married to him and having kids but the thought of having Eunwoo in the back of your head meant that even if you didn’t find ‘the one,’ Eunwoo would be the replacement. It sounds fuck-up, it all sounded fucked-up but who would love a woman who ran an entire company by herself and barely have time for anyone else in her life?

“It means... I officially can’t come back to you anymore and you can’t expect for me to fall back into your hands like putty. I’m done... but it doesn’t mean I don’t love you anymore.”

“I know, Eunwoo.”

“It’s just— it’s my soulmate.”

“Don’t miss out on that opportunity.” You say sternly. 

Thwarted by your reaction, he snaps. “I’m so sick of this. I should’ve just given up sooner—I’ve been in your life for 6 years, we dated for 3, and you can’t even be happy for me? You can’t even tell me that you still love me although you’re the one who left me?”

Head dropping onto the back of your chair, you close your eyes for a moment. “Eunwoo, I’ll always love you, I never thought I had to remind you of that. But we never worked out, we stopped clicking after a year in. We’re on different pages, we’re doing different things, and I never had the time to spend with you anymore.”

“It wasn’t that you never had the time, you never made time.”

“Don’t say that. I didn’t have time. You never made the effort to spend it with me.”

“What?” He says sharply. “Tell me, what could I have done differently? I want to hear it?”

Running your fingers through your strands of hair frustratedly, you grumble in discontent. “I wanted you to be here with me on those nights I spent in the office. I wanted to have dinner with you here, but you always insisted we go out. I wanted you to be part of my projects, do things with me because we’re in the same field, yet you couldn’t even do that. I wanted you to be around and try in other ways even if it was hard to spend time with each other.”

“You’re the one who stopped trying!”

“I stopped trying when I saw how much effort you were putting into meeting these girls instead of me! How do you think I feel when you’re out buying coffee and delivering it to your co-worker? You couldn’t even do that for me.”

Clenching his jaw, he gives you a look before saying his last words. “You’re right. Maybe we weren’t right for each other.” As he’s walking toward the doors existing your office, you silently say, “She was your soulmate, wasn’t she? The co-worker.”

He turns to look at you, eyes sudden soft compared to moments ago. You were right. You’re always right.

Junmyeon is handsome in this lighting but it’s difficult to focus on the date with your argument with your ex from earlier.

He planned everything for the night—the lights, the picnic blanket, and wicker basket filled with delicious foods that he had cooked himself, a skill that he had been trying to improve lately since his roommate, Kyungsoo, had left for the military, and Chanyeol moved out to live with his soulmate. 

Pulling out two wine glasses, following with a bottle, he pops the cork out before pouring some into yours. “So, what’s on your mind?” Snapping back into reality, you laugh awkwardly, rubbing your arm.

“I’m sorry? Did you say something and I missed it? Nothing’s on my mind.”

“No, something is definitely up in there. I can see it in your face.” Handing the glass to you, he’s taking out the rest of the food from the basket; he’d packed everything from kimchi to kimbap, even cheese and deli meats. There was also pie— jesus, did he have to try so hard to get to your heart? You would be melting in his affection at this point if your head wasn’t so occupied.

“Uh... honestly, there’s something. But I’m not really in the mood to talk about it because it might ruin our date.”

“I’m afraid it would ruin our date if you don’t say anything.” He raises a brow.

Shoulders dropping in defeat, you take a sip of your wine for a boost of confidence. “Fine, fine. Eunwoo met his soulmate.”

Junmyeon nods, lips pursed. “Ah, I see. And you always thought that if it didn’t work out with someone else, you’d at least have Eunwoo?”

You freeze.

How’d he know that?

Almost like he read your thoughts, he’s speaking as he’s unraveling the plastic off the plates and containers. “I can kind of tell. You never fully pushed him away. If you didn’t want him in your life at all, you would’ve asked Johnny and the building to kick him out once he went through the lobby doors. Never happened— he’s even on your calendar for lunch, even if you don’t go.”

“You’re rather observant, aren’t you?”

“So I’ve been told.” He grins, taking your hand and giving it a light kiss. “Listen, I understand. Does it have to do with the soulmate thing?”

“A bit...” 

He shakes his head in condemnation, gaze drifting off at the sun that slowly begins to set in the horizon. “I hope you’re not upset because of me just because my ex left me for her soulmate. Not everyone meets their soulmate, you know? So if you met whomever it is, I’d want you to be with them.”

Ugh, Junmyeon is the epitome of a perfect man. It had been a thought that was on your mind recently, although you knew your chances of meeting your soulmate was slim, there was always that chance. 

“Thank you, Junmyeon. I feel the same way about you, you know.” With that, he nods in agreement before sticking a fork into the cheese, lifting it up to your lips. “Less talking about sad stuff now. Cheese?” With a smile, you comply with his offer and open your mouth.

The sun has long disappeared for the night and his friend, the moon, makes an appearance. Junmyeon is even more beautiful under the moonlight, if possible, laying on the blanket with his head resting on his arm as he admires the stars in the sky. 

Dinner was amazing— Junmyeon never fails to impress. You have to thank Chanyeol’s soulmate later on for going back to him because if it wasn’t for their bonding, you would’ve never actually met him. The previous year had taken a toll on you; the constant traveling from Japan, China, and Korea was deteriorating your health that you’d spend most of time in your office. Junmyeon didn’t even meet you until about two months ago. 

Your mind wanders off. Questions like: ‘how did Chanyeol meet his soulmate’ and ‘what stopped him from wanting to get to know the girl’ or ‘did any of your other friends meet their soulmate’ all flooded your head. You figured the night had been going so well you’d avoid the topic of soulmate and save those questions for another time. After what seemed like a moment, another inquiry lights a bulb over your head.

“Wait... we never talked about this before, but do you have a marking?”

“Of course,” He looks at you confusingly. “We all have markings.”

“But I never saw yours, and you never saw mine.” You clarify, and he nods at your statement. “Well, okay, yes, that’s true. Did you want to see it? Where’s yours?”

“On my hip-bone.” You respond, tugging down on the fabric at the hem of your shirt gingerly. Eyes bulging at your response, his body tenses. “What?”

Meticulously lifting the end of his shirt up, there’s a daisy that sits on his hip-bone and you finally understand why he’s giving you such a strange reaction. Mimicking his actions, you show him yours— a daisy.

#junmyeon #suho #junmyeon x reader #junmyeonxreader #suhoxreader #suho x reader #exofics #exo fic #exofanfic #exo fanfic #what else do i tag here hmmmmmmm.... #gyukultfics #exo #kim junmyeon

[clueless-content-creator]

Secret Secretary Pt. 1

Summary: During an enormous business meeting with 200+ people and the CEO, Mr. Lee, Hyunjae called Y/n a few unpleasant words in front of everyone including Mr. Lee who is also Hyunjae's dad as well as the CEO decided to send him away to a tropical island instead of firing him as his assistant suggested. He also decided to send Y/n away, also in need of vacation just as much as his son. (To get away from all the office drama and work, of course) What she didn't know is that it would be the same place as where Hyunjae was staying. When she arrived at the destination, she found that she was not in Santorini, Greece but Hawaii instead. At first, she was mad at Mr. Lee, knowing that he lied to her but then eventually got closer to Hyunjae each day until it was the final day of both their vacations. So, will they make up and go back to the workplace to announce something that no one would expect/see coming or will they go back the same as always... enemies or lovers?

Mentions of Suzy (Miss A) & Eunwoo (Astro)

Pairing: (The Boyz) Lee Jae-Hyun (Hyunjae)!Office worker x Secretary Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Soulmate AU (except both Y/n and Hyunjae are too stubborn to notice)

Warning: Swearing

Word Count: 1.1k

Enemy. You knew the perfect person to describe that exact word. Lee Jae-Hyun, more commonly known as Hyunjae. He was a cocky bastard, to say the least. His dad was the CEO of the company both of you were currently working at. Fortunately for you and the other workers, Hyunjae's dad rarely paid him any attention to any of the work he did or tried to do. So, Hyunjae had decided to 'hate' one of his dad's workers to get his attention. And unfortunately, that worker.. was you. According to you two, you guys have sworn you both are enemies that never get along. Which in fact, got his dad's attention. The CEO, Mr. Lee tried many, many different ways to get the tension between the two of you to go away but both of you were stubborn and neither of you would let it happen. Now here's your side of the story. Even though the office was humongous and had 127 floors to be exact, gossip was always at the top of everyone's priorities list. Which was extremely unfortunate for the person/people of the topic for that day's news. And for the past few weeks, it's been you and Hyunjae. Everyone always talked about if you two were together, saying that we'd probably be down each other throats every minute if we were. As far as you know, Hyunjae didn't give a care in the world about what they gossiped about, but you..? Well, that's a different story. It was like death was knocking at your cubicle every day and you hated it. You didn't want Hyunjae to get the best of your emotions but from time to time you couldn't help but think about pouring hot coffee over him and leaving him to deal with it himself. Today was just one of those days, you had a big meeting on the 50th floor with lots of V.I.P's and the CEO. And, for you, it went horribly. There were about 200+ people in the meeting and in front of everyone, Hyunjae called you a slacker, an embarrassment to the company, and a woman who sleeps with other men to get promotions. You were beyond pissed at Hyunjae for not only calling you those things but also for saying it in front of hundreds of people and his own dad! I mean, talk about stupid… Your good friend and coworker, Suzy was currently trying to calm you down before you ended up smashing any of the glass windows around you. "Hey, it's okay. I'm sure he didn't mean it!" She tried to comfort you but it just made you even angrier. "He accused me of sleeping with other guys Suzy! I know for a fact that he damn well meant it!!" You yelled back at her before trying to take a deep breath and then quietly taking a sip of your drink. Before either of you could say anything else, you heard a knock on the break rooms' door. You looked up to see Eunwoo, who was one of the sweetest guys you've met since you started working at the company. He knew how worked up you got when Hyunjae got to your head so you're used to his little check-ins every now and then. "I heard you yelling and I wanted to make sure everything was alright!" You nodded before smiling. "You can deal with her, she's a bit angry at the moment though," Suzy mumbled before grabbing her coffee and walking out of the break room. "Well, what happened this time?" Eunwoo asked softly. You sighed deeply before ranting to him about Hyunjae and his stupid antics to get to your head. He signed, "When are you just going to end this silly nonsense and claim he isn't your 'sworn enemy'?" You clenched your fist at the slight mention of him, "Never. Unless he finally decides to apologize or stops acting like a stupid asshole who always has his head up his as-" Another knock came from the door except for this time it was your CEO. You cleared your throat in an attempt to clear the awkward air. "Oh! Mr. Lee, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean what I said about Hyunjae-" He held his hand up, then motioned for you to follow him. You quickly said goodbye to Eunwoo and followed him into a vacant office room. "Sir, I sincerely apologize! I really didn't mean what I said about-" He shook his head, "No, I should be the one apologizing on my son's behalf. His words and actions were extremely rude toward you. I talked with my assistant and he suggested I should fire him but I thought that was too harsh so he'll be spending some time away. He will be going to a tropical island for two weeks which will count as his vacation." You tried to contain your excitement over him being away but couldn't help but clap your hands. "I'm not done," He spoke in a very professional way which kind of intimidated you every time you spoke to him, which wasn't very often considering he's a busy man. He cleared his throat before continuing, "You too will also be taking a vacation." You tried to ask him why but he stopped you. "Sir, t-that isn't needed-" He sighed, "No, you're right. It's not needed nearly as much as Hyunjae but you both need time away from each other as well as the company too. You may not agree with it but we think it's for the best. You may not fight it in any way either. So, here is your plane ticket." He spoke, handing over your plane ticket. "You will be leaving in a week so it's best not to lose it." He said with a very sarcastic tone. "Hyunjae is leaving tomorrow at 6:30 in the morning so you have a week off before you leave." You were baffled, "But s-sir, I promise this isn't necessary! I actually do like my job.. just without Hyunjae…" He chuckled lightly, which kind of scared you since he was such a serious man. "You speak too much, darling." You nodded slightly before sighing, "Is this really necessary sir?" He nodded before continuing, "Very. I think you underestimate how stressed you get at the small mention of my son. And I wouldn't blame you if he just suddenly started hating me either." You looked down at the ticket he gave you before sighing deeply once more. He briefly explained where you would be going, staying, what to do, etc. Before dismissing you, you asked one last question. "Mr. Lee," He looked up at you with raised eyebrows, gesturing for you to continue. "Do you know why your son hates me so much?"

A/N: I’m working on a part two, so it might be out soon! Please look forward to it, thank you for the love & support <3

#the boyz fluff #the boyz angst #tbz fluff #tbz angst #the boyz hyunjae #the boyz scenarios #the boyz hyunjae angst #the boyz au #tbz scenarios #tbz hyunjae #tbz #the boyz

[kazbrkker]

Chapter 8: Second Chances

Chapter summary: Aftermaths of the Wolf’s escape & two painfully, oblivious pining idiots. 

Warnings: mention of stitches, old scars. (3502 words)

28 October 2019, 2330 "Alexis" and "Alex" | Codename Aces CIA with SAS and Urzik militia Sakhra, Urzikstan

    "Stop moving," Alia grumbled exasperatedly for the fifth time. Her nimble fingers were supposed to make stitching up Alexis' gnarly forehead gash easy—if she could stay still. Then again, nobody could sit still through that without anaesthetic.

Begging for a distraction, Alexis' teeth scraped against her pale lips and her fingernails subconsciously dup deeper into Farah's arm with every stitch.

"I don't know why you do this without painkillers," Alia mumbled absentmindedly, every movement meticulous. It went unanswered, for Alexis refused to supply the 16-year-old with more horror. A few more stitches later, the young girl leaned back and smiled.

Thank Heavens. High pain tolerance, sure, but needles... Alexis was wise enough to stay far away.

Alexis' impatiently patted the medical gauze, nodding at the decent patch-up. Of course the Marines had professional medics on deck, but when Alexis awoke, she felt responsible for Alia's red-rimmed eyes and loud sniffles. So, pain be damned.

Alia scowled, swatting her nosy hand, "No! Do you want an infection?"

"I am older than you," Alexis reminded.

"Yes. More stupid too."

Bewildered, her neck craned towards Farah, jaw-slacked at the commander's blatant shrug in agreement. Overwhelmed by the thunderous support, "This is a mutiny of some sorts..."

"Uh-oh, your boyfriend is coming," the young girl loudly announced. Her accusation reeled stares from closer bystanders.

Heat found its way to Alexis' cheeks, spreading under Farah and Alia's teasing grins. Dizziness soon trickled in, forcing her to blink rapidly in an attempt to concentrate past the nasty headache. "Alex is not my boyfriend."

"Did I say it was Alex?"

Farah huffed, bumping fists with the younger. The conniving duo displayed megawatt smiles when Alex and Kyle came into hearing distances. Holding a box of ration packs, Kyle gestured for them to take their pick. That knocked their smugness off.

Alex plopped beside her, eating out of his rations. "Tell me you feel better," he more than demanded, giving her battered state a once-over. His eyes lingered on her forehead.

"Am I supposed to lie?"

A shadow flickered past his face, "Should I bench you?"

"Yes, if you wish to die in your sleep," her quick movements to snatch away his wristwatch communicator intensified the pain. "Although blunt force trauma is not as deadly as this headache."

"Crack another joke and I'll deliver you to Price," Alex threatened at her lightheartedness. Though his menace soon faltered at her radiant grin.

"Boss is not in a good mood," Kyle chimed in.

"Mutiny..." Alexis mumbled. "Fine, no more jokes about concussions."

The group chatted about their game plan for tomorrow when a rude growling stomach sounded. It certainly didn't go unnoticed by Alex, who willingly gave up his rations. Packaged pasta had never tasted better, she mumbled gratefully, "Have I ever told you how amazing you are?"

Alex laughed, "Now I know you hit your head too hard."

"Would you be open to the idea of getting matching injuries?"

"Are you flirting with me?"

"No, it's just in season," Alexis shook her head, bemused. "Shut up and eat your veggies, you're giving me another headache."

The scorching look of triumph was clear in Farah and Alia's expressions and for the same reason, she purposefully evaded their eyes.

"I thought the CIA frowned upon dating in the circle?" Kyle asked casually.

The unexpectable question forced her to choke, coughing loud enough to render someone patting her back. Alexis flushed at his concern, aware of the stutter in his pats. Both CIA agents were red, and boy, were Farah and Alia having a field day.

Alexis prayed her face was the usual controlled indifference. This wasn't the first time someone mislabelled their friendship, so why was this suddenly a big deal? "Yup. They hate it."

Kyle's lips formed an 'o' upon realisation, "Sorry, I thought you two were..."

Alex cleared his throat, "That's a popular opinion."

"Maybe everybody has a point. You did call her baby–" Alia cheekily added.

You little...

Alexis gently slapped a hurried palm against her mouth, muffling the jocular giggles from the young woman. It didn't stop her from cheekily winking at the group. Other than the two in cynosure, the others wore matching grins.

Perhaps they were playing matchmakers, but right now, her priority was to dig herself a hole.

From the unreadable look on Alex's face, he felt the same. When Alia tried to wrestle out of her grips, she thought the reddish hue on his face was a figment of her imagination. Yet if it wasn't, he sure didn't spare her the glory with this knowledge, as his head swiftly lowered to observe the hardwood floor panels.

Witnessing him this taciturn was a rare sight. Before she could entertain her illusions that maybe her friends were onto something, Price yelled for Kyle.

The tension in the air snapped.

"Get some rest. We need energy to catch the Wolf tomorrow," Farah gave a friendly side hug, saving Alex from Alia's nagging reminders about her stitches. He replied with a salute.

And then there were two.

"She's awfully like you," Alex smiled. Spitfire personality, dauntless and stubborn.

"Hopefully not, I'm a horrible person," she joked wearily, eyes losing in a battle against the slurry languor that washed over her. Coupled with the splitting headache, she wrangled between climbing upstairs to find a bed or staying here. The latter almost won until she was hoisted up.

"Don't bother, you're not walking," came Alex's reply and she obliged. When she reopened her eyes, Alex had already sat her down a bed to unlace her boots. She carelessly slithered her sweaty top off her skin.

They squeezed into a tightly-confined shower, sighing in bliss as warm cascades of water enveloped them, splashing the warfare away. Her arms looped contentedly around Alex's neck as he started to wash her blood-crusted hair, careful to shield her head wound.

"Hi," Alex wore a suspicious smile.

She sighed, "Here we go."

"Damn right. You have an immaculate talent for making people worried."

"Why thank you..."

Goosebumps raised as he silkened down her arms, tracing the red streaks clearly shaped from her nails. The way his dark eyes fastened on her made her heartstrings twitch nervously, "You could have died."

She laughed humourlessly. "You think too little of me."

"I'm serious, never do that again. You run into anything you can't handle..."

"I had him under control," she retorted.

"Clearly not enough."

"The bastard got to me. My fault, okay? I messed up. I don't need another reminder," she snapped, and the hands in her hair stopped. "Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

"Sure you did," he nodded, not in the slightest offended. The fact that someone managed to one-up her caught his attention instead, "What did he say?"

Now Alexis suspected he could read minds. "Why did you think he said something?"

"Call it a hunch."

Alexis sighed, not fond to revisit her failure. "Alex..."

That was her warning, and he took it. "Just saying, I've never seen Price that worried."

She closed her eyes and shook her head dismissively, "He's just annoyed he'll have to answer to Maddox and Forbes. I'm a prized possession."

The cubicle echoed with their laughs.

Alex worked past the scars that littered her body, leaving trails of soap bubbles. He could pinpoint them with his eyes closed, yet with today's new additions, he had more to commit to memory. His thumb brushed over a spot on her upper right thigh, smirking at the slight shudder he induced but more so at the memory.

Was she nervous?

Hearing Alexis' hoarse voice confirmed his suspicions, "Remember this?"

"'course, you took a bullet for me," Alex said, still glazing over the raised bump.

August 2016, Brazil. 30 grand bounty over their heads. They played a dangerous game of cat and mouse with the entire city. A mercenary almost tore through his kneecaps until she knocked him out of the line of fire.

A charming smirk reappeared, "Few things say "I love you" like a bullet to a non-essential area."

She snorted, punching his chest. Cloudy mist floated around them, the water was too hot, almost scorching. Or maybe it was his warmth, she guessed. Her mind was foggy, only thinking how much endurance she had to not bask in the feeling of his coarse hands.

Then again, she was a soldier. Willpower was all she got.

Maybe not, her hormones decided. As hard as she tried to toss the raunchy thoughts, Alex made it difficult. Especially his arms... she was a real sucker for strong arms. The temperature was sweltering and with their bare bodies practically pressed together was not aiding.

"Switch," was all she said before she forcefully flipped them, leaving her under the running water—hoping it would clear her mind. Hasty fingers weaved in his wet hair, her turn to bathe him.

"Nasty scar," she picked up their conversation, "Scares people away."

"Maybe you should revaluate your definitions of a partner," Alex scoffed, "Scars are god damn sexy."

"In theory, I must be sexy as hell."

Hm. You have no idea.

The bullet scrap on her arm healed nicely by now—still an open wound, though it no longer hurt when she raised her arms. Useful to know, as she foamed his hair. Her gaze traced the numerous tattoos across Alex's body, eventually landing on his chest.

Her favourite tattoo of his—a butterfly.

Butterflies are the universe's proof that second chances exist, this stuck with her ever since she read that somewhere in a digest.

A similar tattoo rested along the sides of her ribcage, accompanied by an eye on top of it. The idea struck her when she finally made Lieutenant. It felt symbolic, a parting gift to her old life.

She always had a sneaking suspicion Alex wanted a matching tattoo but was too afraid or embarrassed to say it. He'd chat her ears off about parallel tattoos, as if she didn't pick up on it. So it was no surprise when one day, he suddenly showed up with a butterfly stuck on his chest.

It was a sweet gesture and thus made her way more resolute to not jeopardise their friendship. Tattoos were sacred to a man like Alex, who never stood a chance against Command. He'd make sure to find something he loved in every location he went, and inked it. His way of establishing control over his job—by remembering parts of the good.

Her finger skimmed past his butterfly before grabbing the showerhead to drown his hair clean. They were two people engrossed in good memories among warfare. And it felt liberating.

That was until she noticed he was looking at the prominent area on her chest.

Burnt flesh, the size of his palms, staring back at them.

The entire atmosphere shifted. A shiver of glacial magnitude rushed from her toes and her heart sank. The scar's jaggedness made her feel even more self-conscious.

Hot poker on her skin, an iron branding from the mob. If she closed her eyes, she could envision the exact scene. Fear not, if the mental baggage wasn't enough, there was a physical one.

"You deserve the best, you know that?" She didn't know which irked her more, the sympathy in his tone, or that he placed her on a pedestal.

I'm damaged goods, the thought fed her demons. So why do I deserve the best?

She peered at the man in front of her, every word earnest. He'd say it a million times and yet she wouldn't believe him.

Perhaps it was the head injury or hormones, but her eyes soon welled up with tears. Within seconds, what started out as small sniffs transformed into full streaks of tears. The tears blended into the stream of falling water but it was unmistakable.

The sight broke Alex's heart. Shattered it, really.

Silently, Alex switched off the faucet and dressed her. Every step jerked new tears that stained his bareback. At her quiet sobs, he berated what an idiot he was for reminding her.

The contact of soft mattress made her flinch. With tear-stained eyes, she gaped at the man who Omar Sulaman promised to kill and it almost made her whimper pathetically.

The malice thoughts stopped whispering when warm touch on her face descended her back to reality.

Alex.

"Yeah?" She hadn't realised she said it out loud.

"Stay with me," she implored. His head was already nodding, but it didn't satisfy her.

A hand shot out anxiously, "No, not this. You can't ever die on me." Her sudden request puzzled him. "Promise me."

"I promise," he said. "What happened, Alexan– Alexis?" Her birth name sat heavily on the tip of his tongue, almost escaping in his concern.

Over time, she'd built a reasonable resilience from Alex's relentless questionings, yet today her defenses lowered. "Back there... He said he'd kill you, he'll make me watch," she swallowed the rising bile. "And I let him go... Fuck."

Alexis felt like an utter failure. Not only did she fail to extract information about the stolen gas, but more people would suffer as a result of the Wolf's escape.

Losing the usual silver lining from her interrogations made her dangerously close to spiral out of control. In her mind, she unjustly tortured a man. And it was vile—even if that man was Omar Sulaman. Now, she found the line between her and her torturers blurred.

Though she didn't specify, Alex placed two and two together. "The Wolf?"

She merely nodded, still gripping his arm painfully like he'd slip away. The desperation her pleads carried haunted him.

"I'm going to fucking kill him," He saw red, only able to suppress his anger by making this promise. Without hesitation, he levelled their faces together, mumbling reassurance of I'm not going anywhere.

In the moonlight, Alex could still see the faint tint of pink that stained her nose—he compared it to the pink chrysanthemums he saw earlier today. How could anyone still look this enchanting while sobbing was a mystery to him, though he was staring right at the answer.

She never ceased to amaze him.

"I'm with you, okay? Always." This sentence never lost its genuineness. He'd do anything for her—the world begins and ends where she says so.

She felt his lips move against her ear, and her racing heart slowly composed itself from his assurance. Losing composure was uncommon for her, but even in this exception, she was sagacious enough to know the air between them had long changed.

Refusing to play host to her desire, her head stay lowered. She opted to wipe her tears and joked about how she didn't want his ghost to haunt her, hoping a distraction would alleviate her pounding heart.

Despite her prayers, Alex tilted her chin upwards to meet him, "Never happening."

They were so close. "Even when you're a ghost?"

"Mhm. I'm pretty hard to shake."

"You'd definitely be one of those annoying ghosts... With no sense of boundaries."

The magnetic allure of her lips called to him. On its own accord, his thumb ghosted ever so slightly over her parted lips, stealing a sharp breath from them both. They were dead silent.

And something in Alex warned him to reduce his voice to a whisper, afraid that he might scare this moment away, "Boundaries... You want it...?"

Everything was electrified. His touch, his gaze. Alexis worked hard not to crumble under his intense stare.

Then it happened, his gaze fell on her lips. She definitely didn't imagine that.

"Do you?" she deflected. Mildly embarrassed that her voice had the abraded texture of stone against stone.

Even when her lungs screamed for air, Alexis still forgot to breathe. She was busy listening to the angel and the devil warring inside her, pleading to her rationality. It was clear which side won when she closed her eyes.

Her world was pitch black. Senses put into overdrive. The touch along her jawline felt like it burned. She thought if this was what being set on fire felt like, she'd gladly pay the price.

His breath fanned across her nose. And then their noses touched.

Alexis felt horrible for her overworking heart, rapidly pumping oxygen to her brain—she certainly dared not to breathe, terrified to screw this up. Maybe there was a screeching voice inside her head, but it was fogged by her desires.

Tingles rushed through her when his lips brushed her own, the velvety feeling of it already so addictive. Alexis closed her eyes, waiting for the impact, and then–

A sharp knock forced them both apart.

She almost got whiplash from how fast she turned to the door, making her clutch her head in pain. The silhouette of Kyle Garrick stood in front of them, head still bowed while reading a prescription off a medicine tube.

"Nero- no, Neosporin," he cluelessly recited. "Antibiotic cream." When Kyle finally raised his head, a look of doubt crossed his face upon the flustered duo.

He awkwardly tossed the tube to Alex. "Okay... Weird vibe. Alia said to apply it or else."

"Thanks, Garrick," Alexis grimaced at her slightly pitchy voice, "Um. Get some rest, yeah?"

"Mhm. As you were..."

The door closed after him. Tensed at the shuffling sounds behind her, her brain replayed the scene much to her protest.

"Still want me to stay?" Alex said in a low voice. She hadn't realised she was still staring at the empty doorway.

What was that? She never loathed her noisy thoughts more than this moment. Oh fucking fuck, shit. I'm so stupid.

No... Why am I embarrassed? He initiated the stupid kiss! She reasoned, digging for some form of consolation to find the courage to snap around, preparing herself for what might come next. But she wasn't expecting the smug smile he so proudly wore. She then wondered if she should feel relieved or nervous.

But as a wave of dizziness forced her to grab a handful of bedsheets, she inwardly spoke gratitude that she didn't have to decide.

What was this? What were they, really? Too many questions and too little answers.

"Come on, it's past your bedtime," Alex pulled her back into the bed and started to administer the medication on her cheek wounds. Today was already a heck of a day, and with the soothing circles rubbed into her skin, she surrendered to her tiredness.

"Night..."

Upon her steady breathing, Alex tossed the tube across the room and it landed accurately on his vest with a soft thud. His finger outlined a path from her forehead and hovered hesitantly above her lips. The very same one he should have already felt.

Thanks, Garrick.

A frustrated sigh escaped him, loud enough to make Alexis nuzzle deeper into him, an arm draped over his waist.

He laid back down, replaying their scenes from earlier. A bolt of lightning might as well strike him now—maybe that would explain the bursting feeling in his chest.

"Wow," he mouthed in realisation. "I'm a damn idiot."

Years ago when she tipsily ended up on his doorstep desperate for him to take the pain away, he willingly obliged. No denials that he had the biggest selfish reason to say yes.

Fuck, it was a strange feeling to finally get all that he dreamt of. That night, he was too busy planning a confession in his head to sleep. But by dawn, the demons inside him questioned if he truly deserved someone like Alexis.

Someone like her? For him? It was too good to be true. His mind raced with the "What ifs?"

"What if our jobs clashed?"

"What if I put her in danger?"

"What fucking if the long distance fucks everything up?"

Their friendship would be in shreds. And she was one of the– the most important person in his life. No way would he lose her.

So he pushed her away—looked her in the eyes and lied. For Heaven's sakes, he wanted to punch himself. And he knew he made the right decision because when their friendship took a hit for a few weeks, the loneliness was unparalleled.

He didn't want to feel that way again. Ever.

Alex might have kept their friendship, but at the cost of everything. He liked to picture how different things would have been, if not for his cowardice. He thought about it frequent enough to imprint a permanent gnaw in his heart.

Now, here it was. A bloody second chance. His second chance.

Alex peered down to the butterfly tattoo on his bare chest, smiling. The universe's proof, alright, he whispered, "Gotcha."

The night ended with Alex falling into dreams of the woman he loved.

‧͙⁺˚*·༓

a/n:        they're such stupid fools... & omg i hate this chapter so much idek. btw what do yall think alexis’ real name is?

taglist: @flyboidameron​​ @wanderlustgiant​​ (wanna be tagged? lmk!)

#call of duty x oc #call of duty x reader #alex modern warfare #cod alex #echo 3-1 #john price #captain price #kyle garrick #farah karim #hadir karim #kate laswell #oc: alexis #fanfiction #call of duty #modern warfare #ysrwrites: kl #please read tw carefully #killer instinct

[presleepthoughts]

Purpose

Pairing: Beca Mitchell x Chloe Beale

A/N: Had this story on my computer for over two years now....slightly based on the movie “Hangman”.

Photo credit: Brandi Kitten from pinterest

/

Balancing a tray of hot coffee, Detective Mitchell wobbled her way between the FBI station cubicles, already feeling annoyed in the early morning. She loved her job but getting up at 5 am in the crack of dawn wasn’t her idea of fun. The station was already buzzing with energy, employees starting their day just like her. She rounded the corner and maneuvered by an officer guiding a suspect away in handcuffs and pushed the door open to her office.

 The room was fairly empty, the walls painted a light shadow of brown. Her large desk was pushed back and stationed in front of the windows and like usual it was covered in file cases in unorganized piles. A light-colored couch was pushed against the wall, perfect replacement of her bed whenever it was necessary. Often times important cases demanded her attention and she couldn’t afford to waste hours to go home.  

 She rounded the desk and settled down in the black leather chair, pushing away some of the paperwork she hadn’t completed last night on her desk and sat down the tray. The cracking of the door hinges alerted her of a newcomer and she looked up only to see her partner, Jesse Swanson.

 “I would greet you with a good morning but I don’t think you would appreciate that.” His signature easy going smile made her shook her head. They have been partners for the last five years now and Beca trusted him with her life but if she was being honest, the kid could be a huge pain in her ass.

“Rough night?” He must’ve noticed her unenthusiastic expression as he inched his way inside the room, sitting down with a smile before her desk. “Is one of them for me?” He pointed with his finger and without waiting for an answer, leaned closer and stole one of the two coffees, tearing off the lid and sipping the beverage happily.

 Beca rolled her eyes. “Well, that was just rude. It could’ve been for somebody else, Swanson. Don’t be self-centered.” She smirked, showing him, she was messing around. She grabbed the other cup and took a generous snip and sighed, leaning back on her chair.

 “I was here ‘til two in the morning. Haven’t slept much.” She admitted as she closed her eyes just for a second. Beca knew that working for the FBI would come with its challenges but the continuous intensity of her job started to take a tool on her body. She had lost weight in the last couple of weeks and her mind was overwhelmed.

 Jesse raised his eyebrows curiously. “New case?”

 Beca shook her head as her jaw clenched. “No, just some paperwork I had to finish for the Johnson’s case. One more reason for me to hate that fucker.”

 Kevin Johnson was one of her biggest cases since joining the FBI five years ago. He was a teacher who got obsessed with one of his student and tried to kidnap the girl. On a late night, he climbed in through her window and drugged her, took her from her house and put her in the trunk of his car. Her parents notified the FBI and Beca was the first one who responded to the call. She tracked him down in Chicago, Illinois and rescued the girl, putting him away for life. All that happened a week ago.

 “He’s got what he deserved.” Jesse said. “The girl is safe and he’s going to rot in prison for the rest of his life. I mean, if the other inmates let him live for that long.” Jesse commented, crossing his arms across his chest. “Crimes involving children aren’t very popular, even in prison.”

 She nodded knowingly. “One more lunatic off the streets, at least.” She mumbled, grabbing some of the scattered files and trying to organize them neatly, stacking them into the drawer.

 Jesse let the conversation die down as drank his coffee while looking out the window over Beca’s shoulder. The weather was gloomy, grey skies gathering over their heads and Jesse wondered when it would rain. The comfortable silence was interrupted when one of the agents peeked his head through the door, addressing Beca.

 “Mitchell. Captain Posen wants you in her office right away.” He waited for her to nod and left the two of them alone.

 “What do you think she wants?” Jesse asked and Beca shrugged her shoulders.

 “No clue but I’m about to find out.” She pushed her chair away from the desk and stood up. “You’ll wait for me here?”

 Jesse shook his head. “I have some things to finish too. I’ll come by later. We can go to lunch?” He suggested, receiving a nod in reply as Beca left her office and made her way down the corridor.

 Five doors down, she reached a wooden door with a sign ‘Captain Aubrey Posen’ in bold, black letters placed on the surface. Beca knocked slightly and after hearing an invitation to come inside, she opened the door. The Captain’s shoulders were hunched over a file, not lifting her gaze to look at the detective, simply waving her hand in her direction, directing her to sit down on the available chair. Beca stepped inside, noticing another visitor with her back to her, sitting in one of the seats. Her bright red hair was falling in waves on her shoulder and she was wearing a brown leather jacket.

 “You wanted to see me?” Beca asked strongly, not taking the offered seat, opting to stand.

 Captain Posen finally lifted her gaze and looked at her with her eyebrows raised. “Yes. Detective Mitchell, meet Chloe Beale.”

 The redhead, now Beca knew to be Chloe, stood up and turned around. The first thing Beca acknowledged was her ocean blue eyes as she stood with her hand outstretched for a handshake. After a stunned second, she shook her hand firmly.

 “Ms. Beale here is a journalist from the Times magazine. From now on, she’ll be your new partner alongside with Detective Swanson. She’s partaking in an all access project to write an article about our station. Wherever you go, she goes.”

 Mitchell furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. The Captain wanted to partner her up with an untrained civilian, a journalist nevertheless who had no idea about the danger Beca and all the other officers faced daily. She shifted on her feet, scrunching up her nose in distaste. She didn’t know babysitting was a part of her job description.

 If the Captain noticed her reaction she didn’t show it as she turned her attention to the journalist. “Ms. Beale, I trust you can partake in this project and write your piece without interfering with my detectives and future cases, yes?” Her tone strong and hard, indicating she wasn’t messing around.

 Ms. Beale nodded seriously and replied. “Yes, Captain.”

 Despite her frustration of the situation, Beca’s eyes kept glancing at the journalist.  

 “Good.” Posen nodded sharply, looking at her detective and Beca snapped her eyes back to her. “You’ll do everything by protocol, just like always and make sure she’s unharmed. It’ll be like she’s not even there. Got it?”

 “Yes, Captain.” Beca replied confidently. The Captain dismissed them and as Beca guided Ms. Beale back to her office, she couldn’t help but wonder what was going to happen.

 /

 The door barely closed behind them before Ms. Beale started talking. “Thank you so much for agreeing to do this.” Beca rolled her eyes when her back was turned as she took her seat, motioning for Chloe to do the same.

Beca adjusted her blazer and crossed her arms across her midriff. “Captain Posen didn’t really give me a choice in the matter but you’re welcome.” She answered sarcastically. Her defense mechanism kicked into gear. It made her uneasy that she didn’t know her intentions. She was just a regular detective, she didn’t know why she was special enough to write about.

 Her negative answer stunned Chloe into an awkward silence as she glanced down at her notes in her lap. Beca clenched her jaw before she sighed in defeat. It was an order and there was nothing that she could do about the situations. Ms. Beale was only here to do her job and maybe if Beca helped her she would leave sooner.

 “The Captain said you’re writing an article.” She stated matter-of-factly and watched as Chloe glanced up in curiosity. “She never said anything specific. What exactly is it going to be about?”

 The first smile appeared on Ms. Beale’s face and Beca wondered why. “It’s about female detectives. I’d like to shed some light on how it feels like to be a woman in a dominantly male profession.” Her kind eyes lingered on Beca’s while she gently explained.

 Beca gazed back curiously. “Why aren’t you interviewing the Captain then? She’s the first female captain of the station in this town. She’s basically a walking legend. Why are you interested in me?”

 Chloe let her eyes roam over the detective, taking in her stormy blue eyes and hard, defensive expression. Despite her hard demeaner, Beca intrigued Chloe. The journalist learnt to always look behind the picture, dig deeper to found out the truth and she had a feeling Beca was more than what met the eye.

 “I already interviewed Captain Posen before you and I will dedicate an article for her. But she has a lot of responsibilities to take care of instead of going outside where the action is. I need somebody who’s out on the fields. I heard that’s you.” Her eyes looked deep into Beca’s and saw a slight change in her expression.  

 But before she could identify it Beca’s poker face emerged as she let her arms fall on the armrest of her chair.

 “A journalist job is to find stories worthy of being told.” Chloe stated and pulled her phone out of her pocket, boosting up the audio recorder app and placed it on the table between them. “I think yours is one of those stories.”

#bechloe #bechloe fanfiction #bechloe fanfic #Pitch Perfect #pitchperfect #PitchPerfect2 #pitch perfect 2 #pitch perfect 3 #brittany snow #Anna Kendrick #chloe beale #Beca x Chloe #Beca Mitchell x Chloe Beale #beca mitchell #beca mitchel x chloe beale #fbi au #bechloe au

[brianprobablywill]

Aphrodite (Ben Hardy x Reader)

summary: ben’s in love with y/n. he’s too far gone.

1.8k words, ben x reader, angst my good folks 

this is rated 16+ for exploring mature themes. please read and interact at your own discretion. 

this is dedicated to blake aka @sweet-ladyy​ for being freaking awesome! i am so grateful to have met her through the discord, i’ve quickly come to realise just how sweet and amazing she is. not to mention, a fucking BRILLIANT writer!! go check her stuff out!

thank you to @redspecialty​ and @brian-maybe-not​ for doing me the honour of beta-reading this fic. i took a slightly different angle with this, and i was very happy to have their guidance through it. check their masterlists out!!

He isn’t sure how it happened. More precisely, he isn’t sure when it happened.

Now that Ben thinks of it, he wonders how one could possibly not fall in love with Y/N. It’s bound to happen at some point in everybody’s life. 

Surely everyone in the room is spellbound when Y/N speaks, moving her hands animatedly and looking around the room to see if she’s got everyone’s attention. Surely everyone notices how her hair swishes around her face when she laughs with unbridled joy. Surely everyone notices the softness of her hands, the plumpness of her lips, the curves of her naked body—

That last one, he’s not so sure everybody understands. He’s not so sure he wants everybody to understand. He wants to be the only one who gets to watch as Y/N’s chest rises and falls with every deep breath. He wants to be the only one who gets to put his hands on her, gentle at first and rougher from there on, the only one who gets to truly feel her.

He’s sitting in Y/N’s kitchen as he thinks, running his hand over the rim of his coffee cup. He’s watching as his girl hums while spreading cream cheese on a bagel, a stupid grin on his face he didn’t know he was sporting.

Y/N turns around once she’s done, bringing over two plates of toasted bagels to the table. She scoffs at Ben’s expression, “What are you looking at?”

“Huh?”

“You were looking at me like I’m Aphrodite or something.” She says it so nonchalantly. She doesn’t think anything of it as she takes a large bite out of her bagel. “What?” She reiterates when Ben doesn’t say anything.

Meanwhile, Ben’s asking Y/N in her head, Do you not see it, my Aphrodite? But that is not what leaves his mouth. “Huh.”

“Huh?”

“Didn’t realise,” he mumbles, picking at the crumbs on his plate. But even with his vision turned towards his plate, Y/N’s fingers are still in view. He can see them, the pointer finger tap tap tapping on the counter, clearly because Y/N’s not satisfied with Ben’s answer.

But when Ben doesn’t say anything to follow up his short two words, Y/N shakes her head dismissively before getting up to pull a yogurt out of the fridge. “Got anything to do today?”

“Day off.” Ben’s voice is still small. He knows what’s coming next.

It’s Y/N’s boisterous laugh, happy about the fact that she has Ben all to herself today. “Really?” When Ben nods, Y/N puts down her yogurt cup on the counter and walks over to stand behind Ben. 

The hair on the back of Ben’s neck stands up straight as Y/N brings her lips next to his ear to whisper, “Then I know what we should do once we’re done here.”

It happens in a blur. It’s quick and it’s habitual. It’s become chronic for Y/N and Ben. Oh, such routine it is, for Ben to find himself in Y/N’s bedroom after a hard day of filming just to get his mind off things. 

And it works! It works for him, and it works for Y/N. They both have someone to themselves when they need it, and that was what was agreed upon.

But that’s the thing. That was all that was agreed upon.

So when Y/N gets up and out of bed after she’s caught her breath and heads to the dressing table to grab the tub of body butter, and when she smirks after realising Ben’s watching her every move, it feels a little too… intimate.

It never used to end like this. It always ended with Y/N and Ben both falling asleep with their naked backs facing each other. But somewhere along the way Y/N began making small talk as they both caught their breaths. 

At first Ben was repulsed by the idea that it could be something more. He felt like he wasn’t ready for it. 

But now, he craves it.

He craves those moments after sex when Y/N walks around the room to work on menial tasks and allows him to stay right there. He craves the feeling when Y/N casually sits down on his side of the bed, working the knots out of his shoulders after he said he was feeling stiff. 

He craves Y/N. 

Y/N climbs right back into bed once she’s done slathering the body butter onto her skin -- and some onto Ben’s too, right up until he protests. The comforter gathers around her waist, and she makes no effort to bring it up to her chest to cover her breasts from Ben.

Her phone pings! suddenly. She takes a quick look at the brightened screen before turning back to face Ben, a different expression on her face. “Forgot to tell you!” She puts her hand on Ben’s shoulder in a show of urgency.

“Yeah?” Ben says softly, trying not to melt into her touch too much. 

“I have a date for tomorrow night. So don’t show up.” 

She says it without a shred of hesitation. Suddenly, the hand on Ben’s shoulder feels too hot. He wants it off. He wants to get up, take a shower and wash off the feeling of Y/N on his body. But as soon as he gets up, mumbling something about using the shower, Y/N gets up with him, following him into the bathroom and waiting for him to get into the cubicle.

Ben doesn’t. His eyes stay glued to the grim tiles of Y/N’s bathroom floor for as long as Y/N doesn’t hurry him up. He can hear his heart in his ears. 

He can also feel Y/N pushing on his shoulder, muttering, “Oi.” She shakes her head playfully, pushing past Ben to enter the cubicle before him. 

Ben can’t help but take two steps back, he does not want to be in there with her. Not anymore. “You finish up first. I-- no, you go.”

“Oh, come on.”

“I have to-- just, you go-- I can’t.” Ben’s rushing out of the bathroom before he can hear what Y/N says next. 

He sits on the edge of the bed the entire time Y/N is in the shower. Y/N’s side. 

As soon as he hears the shower turn off, he stands up and rushes out of the room, trying not to face Y/N yet. He busies himself with making yet another cup of coffee for Y/N, because he knows how much she loves a steaming cup of coffee after a shower.

His sharp breaths are the only sound in the small kitchen. His hands grip the counter tightly, and he just wants to leave. 

The sound of Y/N’s feet pattering across the floor soon fill his ears, and he uses the few seconds to collect himself before she sees his face. 

“You should’ve made a mug for me, too!” Y/N pouts, pulling all her wet hair over one shoulder.

Ben wordlessly puts the mug in front of Y/N, and the smile, oh the smile that blossoms on Y/N’s face just makes him forget his predicament for a second. And for that second, he can only watch as Y/N wiggles her body -- quite natural for when she’s feeling happy -- and admire her. 

“I knew I kept you around for a reason,” Y/N hums after taking a sip, wrapping her hands around the mug, holding it close to her chest. 

And just like that, the moment is gone. The tightness in Ben’s chest returns. His smile fades away, but Ben doesn’t realise that so does Y/N’s.

“Everything okay, Benster?” she asks, putting her mug down and leaning forward, clearly worried.

Ben chuckles, running a hand through his hair. “Have you noticed, Y/N?” he begins, trying to maintain the casualness of his voice. “We’re… never mind.”

“Oh come on, tell me.” She stands, walking over to Ben and putting a hand on his shoulder. “Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Fucking hell. Ben thinks. “We’re acting- uh, really it’s fine, I don’t-” his mumbling is cut off by Y/N’s hand running down his arm to grab onto his hand. 

“Hey.” Y/N’s voice is softer this time, almost like she’s talking to a little child after they’ve been crying. And honestly, Ben feels like one right about now. “It’s okay.”

Ben smiles wider, as if it’s helping him maintain his composure. “We act a lot like a couple, you notice?”

Y/N pulls away completely at that, crossing her arms across her chest. Shaking her head, she asks, “Really?” 

“Just an observation.”

“Huh.” 

“Yeah,” Ben whispers, pushing past Y/N to stand a few feet away, finding some comfort in gripping the handle of a nearby chair. “You know, talking casually after sex, eating breakfast afterwards, showering together; it’s all… coupley?” He smiles as he says the words, in an effort to write it off as a measly observation, and not as something that’s been eating away at him for weeks.

“Weird,” Y/N says shortly, shuffling her feet around. “I hadn’t noticed.” Her voice is small, too, now, clearly taken aback by Ben’s words. “Yeah, that’s weird,” She chuckles, looking down at the floor. 

Ben can’t gauge what Y/N’s reaction means. Is she… affronted? Taken aback? Is she hurt? 

“Stupid,” Ben says, his voice sounded distant to to Y/N’s years. “I shouldn’t have said it.” 

“It’s fine,” Y/N breathes out. “Um…” she pinches the bridge of her nose with her index finger and thumb, still unable to muster up the courage to look at Ben. “I have to… I have to get ready.”

“What for?” Ben tries to get a look at Y/N’s face, but she’s clearly determined to hide it from him. 

“My date.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll go.”

“Yeah, you should.”

Ben’s walking out of the kitchen without another word, deciding that some space for the both of them was best right now. 

“Hey, wait, Ben.” 

It doesn’t take Ben more than a second to turn around. Y/N’s voice is like a bell in his head, a call that he simply has to answer. 

“If my date goes horribly,” Y/N mumbles, twisting her index finger with the fingers of her other hand. “Will you still be there?”

The way Y/N looks at Ben is so curious, afraid even, that Ben can’t help but take a small step towards his Y/N. His Y/N. He’s trying to maintain a distance, because he can sense that Y/N’s not happy with Ben’s discovery, but he can’t help himself. He simply has to reach out. He has to put his hand on Y/N’s face and caress her skin gently. 

“I’ll always be there.” 

------

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[wisegiverchaos]

My Dream Last Night

 CONTEXT: I was thinking about sports bras during the day prior to going to bed, so I began the dream in some sort of store perusing sports bras. As is standard with dreams, the locations flowed into each other as if they all exist whithin a single monolithic, labyrinthine structure. The store flowed from a women’s clothing section into Target’s home section, past ottomans and blankets and candles. From the home section it became a back hallway (think employee corridors at malls) which emptied into several different spaces via doorways. The doorway I eventually take in the dream leads to a darkened picturesque chapel. After passing through the chapel I’ll stumble into a spacious office space with multiple individual offices, and a reception area with a couch and a couple of comfortable chairs. (The bad guy that pops up appears to be the Darkling from Shadow and Bone, which makes sense, I guess, because I find him attractive. His minions are generic bad guys as well as Dakota Fanning at 14 and Alexander Ludwig at the same age.) The reception doors of the office lead outside, where I’ll find myself on a wooded mountain containing the occasional house, as well as some towering trees. I rejoin my team (which I apparently have) and end up near a house toward the foot of the mountain, when a dam bursts. (Makes total sense because I was just reading a book wherein a dam burst and many people were killed. It also included a mountain slope with many trees at one point in the story, so that’s probably where that came from.) We must climb trees in an effort to avoid being swept away. So there you go, that’s what I’ve got.

    I held the package of sports bras, debating. They were cute, and a really good price, but there were five in there, and I’d only been after two. It was a steal, I decided, nodding to myself. If I could find my size I was taking them home. I began to dig through the hanging packages, on a mission. My concentration was broken by a rising clamor coming from the store to my right, and I looked for the cause of the sound. After a moment, a crowd of people charged into view, the fear on their faces communicating better than words that they were fleeing something. Suddenly feeling a sick lance of fright slash through my gut, I turned on my heel and ran, not interested in being trampled. I dodged piles of blankets and candles and leapt over ottomans, some endlessly consumerist part of my brain registering that “huh, those are cute,” as I fled.

    I burst through a large set of swinging doors, through which I’d seen many an employee disappear, and found myself in a large receiving bay. To my left yawned a seemingly endless hallway, studded with doors on either side. I chose the hallway. I was about forty feet into the hall when the swinging doors burst open under the flood of people. I poured on the speed. Up ahead, I noticed one of the doors was slightly ajar, and I angled for it. I skidded to a stop, swung inside, and slammed and locked the door. I leaned heavily against it, listening to the horde of frightened humans stampede past, and I noticed absently that I had locked myself into a broom cupboard. A cramped cleaning closet. I jumped as the door handle was jostled several times, and I pushed my weight into the door just in case. The thunder of footsteps began to recede, along with shouts and the occasional scream. I sank to the floor and rested my head on my knees.

    I awoke sometime later, minutes or hours, I’m not sure, shocked to realize I’d actually fallen asleep. That seemed foolish, given that I didn’t even know what I’d been running from so recently. On my knees, I turned to the door and pressed my ear to it, straining to hear even the smallest sound. There was nothing. I slowly unlocked the door, keeping as quiet as possible. I still winced when the lock popped open, as loud as a gunshot to my paranoid ears. I waited with bated breath for any response to the noise, but the hallway outside remained stubbornly quiet.

         Inch by fraction of an inch, I pushed the door open (less than halfway), glad to be lower to the ground in case anyone was out there. Seeing no one to the left (from which direction I’d come) I poked my head around the door and searched the other end of the hall. Empty. There seemed to be no indication of the swarm of frightened people that had crashed through. I squinted. There were a few scuff marks on the floors and along the walls. To be fair, those could have come from before. There! On the floor up ahead, lay a single shoe.

   Shaking my head, I straightened to my feet. I considered returning the way I’d come, but dismissed the notion with a shiver. I had a bad feeling about going back, what I might see. So instead I turned right, and crept down the hallway, gently trying different doors to see if they’d open. I found another closet like mine, this one stacked with rolls of toilet paper, shelves of soaps, and paper towels; supplies rather than cleaning agents.

   Further down, I had luck with another door. When the door cracked open, I could sense that it was an actual room, rather than a closet, and I paused, waiting. When there was no sound or response, I pulled it open far enough to peek inside. All was dark. Without giving myself time to talk some sense into myself, I slipped inside, the door closing and plunging myself into inky darkness. I stood still, blinking, and waited for my eyes to adjust. I could feel that I was in a very large, open space. As I gained some vision, I could see that I was in a chapel with soaring, vaulted ceilings, a weak sliver of light emanating from behind a pulpit. I turned in a small circle, taking in what little I could make out, and nearly shrieked as I realized I was not alone.

   Rows and rows of pews lined the sides of the cavernous space, every one of them filled to capacity with motionless figures. They were so still, that for a moment I wondered if the pews were holding mannequins for the store. The notion was dispelled, however, when I realized I could hear them breathing in the stillness. On tiptoe, I approached the nearest pew, situated against the back wall. I peered at the woman seated in front of me, feeling at any moment she might jump at me and shout and I would absolutely pee my pants. But she just sat placidly, staring straight ahead, blinking occasionally. Her hands rested in her lap, palms pressed together as if she’d been praying. I looked at the man to her left, and the woman to her right, and they sat in exactly the same position, palms together, staring straight ahead with no expression.

              Eerie.

    I nearly screamed when I heard the door handle begin to turn behind me. Finding no empty spaces of the pews, to try and blend in, I clambered onto the back of the pew, jostling the strange, empty people. From the pew, I leapt at the wall, just managing to catch hold of the bottom of the nearest rafter, which arced toward the ceiling. I scrambled into a secure position, clutching to the beam like a monkey, just as the door swung open. A pair of men entered, talking quietly to one another, each with a scary-looking rifle slung over his shoulder. They walked below me, ostensibly unaware of my presence. They paused in the middle of the chapel, and I lost sight of them for a moment when the door swung shut and  the sliver of light that had illuminated them disappeared. I blinked, waiting for my vision to readjust. The men continued chatting.

   When I could finally see again, I stretched my leg as far as I could go, relieved when I felt my toes hit the next rafter over. I carefully rested more and more of my weight on it until I could safely heave the rest of my body over. In this manner, I slowly made my not-so-graceful way across the chapel. I froze every so often, especially as I neared the men’s location, certain they would hear my movements and soft swearing; but any sounds I made were eaten up by the high ceilings, which also explained why I couldn’t make out anything specific that the men were saying. When I reached the far end of the chapel, I could make out the faint, dark outline of a second door. I settled in to wait, realizing there’d be no getting down and through the door without them noticing.

    Happily, I didn’t have to wait very long. After a couple of minutes walking between the frozen people, snapping or waving in front of their faces, the men seemed to bore. They wound their way back to the door through which they’d entered and left. I remembered just in time to close my eyes to retain what little night-vision I’d achieved. Shaking my head to myself, I lowered my body carefully from the beam, until my questing toes encountered the back of a pew. My other foot joined it, and I bounced quietly to the floor. I put my ear to the new door, and hearing nothing, I pushed it open enough to slip through.

  I was blinded again, this time by a normal level of light rather than a lack thereof. Blinking rapidly, I took in my new surroundings. I was in an office, of sorts. Dim, half lighting revealed various cubicles stretched in front of me that ran to my right, and a hall of actual, private offices with windows and blinds to the left. I chose left, creeping down the hall. I peeked into the offices and continued on, pausing at one with a door on the opposite side of the small room. After a brief look around, I padded into the office, heading for the door. I listened again, heard nothing again, and turned the knob. I pulled the door halfway open, and peeked outside. It was a reception area, open and airy, admitting natural light from large windowed doors to the outside. Empty.

   I let out a quiet sigh of relief, the air whooshing out of my and slumping my shoulders. I opened the door the rest of the way and as I stepped through a quiet voice whispered, “Freeze.” I froze. My foot mid-step, my hand clamped around the doorknob. I wanted to look round, see who had spoken, but my head wouldn’t move. Indeed, my entire body suddenly seemed to be more inclined to follow the command of an unknown stranger than my own; I couldn’t even put my foot the rest of the way down. I jumped when a hand clamped onto my forearm… or rather, my heart jumped, and my adrenaline spiked. My body, however, remained still. Frozen, as commanded. What the –?

  “Relax your body, but don’t move after,” came the voice again. I registered a man’s voice before becoming distracted by my body inexplicably following his instructions. My foot came down, and drew back so I was standing rather than walking, my arms dropped loosely to my sides. “What –?” I started to ask, but he cut me off, “Don’t make a sound.” My mouth wouldn’t move, and after some effort, I realized I couldn’t hum or even breathe loudly. My heart pounded, and my traitorous knees felt weak. “Walk to the nearest sofa, then sit down and be still.” Before his words fully registered, my body was carrying me into the reception area toward a couch situated between two armchairs. I reached the couch, and as my body turned around to sit, I could finally see the stranger.

   He was somewhere near thirty, wearing a neat suit with no tie. He had dark hair, swept precisely off his forehead, and a closely trimmed beard. I was registering my surprise at his youth and (embarrassing as it is to admit) good looks, when I felt my knees bend, and my backside hit the couch. I sat, my back ramrod straight, and stared at the human puppeteer. Looking me over appraisingly, he instructed me to place my palms together and rest them on my knees, which I did. The strange, unmoving people in the chapel suddenly made a lot of sense.

    The man nodded to himself, as if checking off a task, then un-buttoned his jacket and sat down beside me, lounging back. Without warning, he placed a firm hand on my back. Again, I would have jumped had his command not rooted me in place. The man reached into his pocket with his other hand, withdrew a phone, and began texting someone. When he finished, he returned it and sat quietly, waiting. His right hand occasionally stroked my back absentmindedly, making me tense.

    I could tense! A flood of relief rushed through me at that tiny bit of agency. While we waited, I tensed all of the muscles I could, starting from my toes and moving up. I couldn’t move anything around, and simply tensing or flexing took massive effort, but it was something. Sadly, I could do nothing with my hands, barely managing a twitch, but the rest of my muscles responded and I was able to flex my arms and even my shoulders lightly. The man’s hand on my back stilled, and my stomach dropped. I’d been so focused on trying to move I’d failed to consider he might notice. There was a roaring in my ears as I waited for his reaction.

       He said nothing, and after a moment, his hand resumed lazily tracing patterns into my back. The relief I felt would’ve normally caused my shoulders to slump, but they stayed still as instructed. I concentrated my focus on my hands. The twitch had been better than nothing, and I could work with that. I couldn’t even begin to pull my hands apart, so instead I worked to flex my fingers, or maybe twist my palms against each other, taking care not to even twitch my shoulders. With the man leaning back into the couch, I couldn’t see him, only his legs next to mine, and an occasional flash of his arm in my periphery. I wondered if he was watching me, or merely staring off into space, so confident in his little trick that he didn’t feel the need to monitor me.

   I had finally gotten my fingers to bend consistently, though they stayed glued together, when I heard footsteps approaching. The hand dropped from my back and the man stood, re-buttoning his jacket, and walked somewhere to my left and back. My body tensed, wishing to run, but knowing I couldn’t.

  I had an idea burrowing into my head that if I could break one of his specific commands, even separating my hands, I’d be able to regain full control. With the man’s attention focused on the incoming footsteps, I put my all into twisting my palms against each other. I strained until the fingers of my right hand pointed straight up, while the left remained pointed ahead. With herculean effort, I pulled my right hand toward my chest while pushing the left straight forward. I just needed my palms to separate!

    Voiced greetings snapped my attention to the present, and my hands back into position. I could’ve screamed with frustration. I looked left, wondering if they’d noticed. Standing where they were, I couldn’t see them, even straining my eyes as hard as I was. After a beat, the man led the well dressed newcomers into my field of vision. My eyes widened slightly, and the three smiled at my minute reaction. They were teenagers. A boy and a girl, both blonde and pretty, maybe fourteen or fifteen years old. I looked between the three of them, puzzled.  

    The man stepped forward, “I apologize for the wait, and I thank you for your patience,” he began, smiling at his own joke as if I’d had a choice. “My friends here were seeing to other matters,” he continued, nodding to the teens, “their skills being something of a precious commodity, and I didn’t wish to rush them. Besides,” he mused, eyes twinkling mischievously, “I rather enjoyed our time together.” I would have frowned if I could, but he read my confusion (and annoyance?) in my eyes as if he’d had practice reading frozen faces. Which, I supposed, he had.

     “I have a number of questions to ask you, and, not wishing to waste time waiting for you to pick over what you’d like to tell me, I’ve brought my dear friend Annika here to find the truth.” The girl gave a smile and a small wave when her name was mentioned. “Annika has the incredible ability to hear the thoughts inside your head,” claimed the man. I stared at him. He smiled indulgently at the cynicism he read on me, as well as my internal speculation as to his sanity. “You find your body controlled by the mere words of another and telepathy is beyond belief?” He laughed softly when I looked at the floor in consternation.

                  That was a good point.

   Sliding his hands into his pockets, the man stepped forward. “I’m going to ask you a series of questions, and when you think of the answer she’ll tell me what it is. It’s quite handy, because it’s not really possible to lie this way. When I say ‘don’t think of a pink elephant’ that’s exactly what flashes through your head.” He shrugged, “In the same vein, when I ask you a question, the correct, honest answer is the first thing that pops up. The notion to lie or make up a story comes after, and by that point Annika has already told me the truth. It’s a wonderful, painless way to obtain information, don’t you think?” he concluded, looking pleased with himself.

   My eyes stayed on the floor. If I could have furrowed my brow, I would have. I was utterly baffled by this current turn of events. I couldn’t fathom any possible line of questioning they’d have for me, let alone one that would require such lengths to ensure honesty. His point had convinced me she was legitimate, or at the very least he believed she was.. All I could do was watch their feet as they approached me. The boy perched on the arm of the couch, and the girl, Annika, sat down on my right side. The man resumed his place at my left, sitting forward attentively this time, his knee touching mine. I watched Annika’s hand take hold of my wrist, her hand dainty and warm, skin to skin. My scalp started to prickle, and I dimly wondered why she didn’t take one of my hands if she had to touch me. Internally rolling my eyes, I concluded that she didn’t want to break Mr. Suit’s favorite pose.

    She let out a small giggle, and my eyes snapped to her face. The man tilted his head and she turned her gaze to him, opening her mouth to speak, a pretty smile on her face. She paused and briefly turned back to me and said, “Thank you!” before again facing the man. I stared at her hand on my arm. Shit. She giggled again and told the man, “She’s funny.” A brow lifted and she continued, “She words things in her head in a way that just makes me laugh.” My heart began to race again.

   I’d thought I believed him, but had I really? She couldn’t…

 “I can,” she laughed, and my heart stuttered. “She only has my name, so she’s been calling you funny names in her head. Not like, bad names or anything, but it’s still funny.” She turned to the boy, “Nothing funny for you I’m afraid, Andrew, she was just calling you ‘the boy’, but you, sir,” She turned back. “You’re ‘puppeteer’, you’re ‘Mr. Suit’, you’re ‘creepy-evil-guy-who-shouldn’t-be-so-attractive’..” She trailed off with a giggle. My cheeks burned. “Aw, she’s blushing!” laughed the boy, Andrew. I closed my eyes, trying to block out the impossible embarrassment. “You guessed right, you know,” Annika chimed, my eyes cracking open to peek at her. “We are twins!” I wanted to nod politely, but of course couldn’t. Her uncanny ability told her anyway, and she smiled.

   “She’s really nice, all things considered. Most people are cursing me out in their heads by now.” My thoughts flashed to a moment prior. Smiling patiently, she patted my hand, “You didn’t call me anything. Thinking ‘shit’ was just you realizing that this was actually, really happening.” She turned to the suit conspiratorially, “She thought I was pretty you know. She’s scared out of her mind and she’s still really sweet. Oh, and his name is Mr. Flint, by the way,” she said, turning back to me, “he does wear great suits, though.” The man smiled indulgently, and I went back to staring at the floor. Could you please not do that? I thought. She squeezed my hand softly. I took that as a ‘no’. A kind one, in spite of the circumstances. She looked at “Mr. Flint”, then turned to me. “Let’s start with your name.” Ava. “And how you came to be sneaking through these offices.”

   Unable to talk, I thought about my day leading up to this moment. How had a simple trip to the store turned into a psychic interrogation? I had no idea who these people were, why they were here, or the purpose behind the chapel of zombies, as I’d taken to thinking of them. Annika tilted her head, frowning. “Is that true, Ava?” Hearing her use my name, my eyes jumped to meet hers. She gazed at me with concern. I don’t know anything, I thought, I don’t know what’s going on and I don’t know why. I don’t understand what’s happening. I blinked rapidly, quickly clearing the embarrassed/frightened tears that were trying to blur my vision. Her eyes softened. She looked at “Mr. Flint” and tilted her head to the left, gesturing with her chin.

     They stood, walking out of sight, Andrew trailing behind them. I stared after them, trying in vain to pick out specific words from the quiet murmur I could hear. Failing that, I began to flex my fingers again. They were easier to bend this time. Maybe it was because he was no longer touching me. Maybe his commands wore off after a little time. It still took immense effort, but twisting my palms took much less time, and I began the pull-push motion I’d been attempting earlier. I was so close. I could hear them talking, was it louder? Were they moving closer? I could feel sweat beading under my hair. Less than a half inch. My muscles shook, fighting each other.

    My palms parted, and it felt like I could finally breathe. Strength flooded my limbs and I leapt to my feet. Not pausing to wait for them to notice, I charged through the door and outside.

                                                                       * * *

     Blinking in the sun, I found myself on a mountainside, lush and verdant. I looked around, for a moment, then charged down the slope. Dodging trees and leaping boulders, I whooped. It sure was nice outside. I tumbled down the hill and nearly bowled over a small group of people. When we righted ourselves, I was thrilled to recognize my friends. After a brief exchange of pleasantries, we resumed our descent, passing the occasional house.

    As we neared the foot of the mountain, we heard a deep boom, followed by a thunderous roar. The dam had burst. The water was coming. Concluding we lacked sufficient time to make it across the bowl to our vehicles that awaited us on the opposite slope, we searched for higher ground. (That wouldn’t require re-climbing the mountain we’d just descended.)

   The house nearest to us stood in the shade of two massive trees, their trunks so thick it would take at least four of us to wrap our arms around their trunks. We scrambled onto the roof from the top of a shed  next to the house. We ran across the roof, teasing those who tripped even as we lifted them back up. We split into two groups, one for each tree. Two by two, we leapt from the roof onto the nearest branches and began to climb. Shouting taunts and jokes to one another, we situated ourselves as securely as we could, and held on for dear life. The crashing water felled dozens upon dozens of smaller trees, and with a great creaking groan, the house was ripped from its foundation and swept away.

Well, that’s all, folks. It was a weird one, but really, when aren’t my dreams weird?

#writing #dream #dreamscene #insidemybrain #mydreamsareweird #scene writing #wannabe #protagonist #antagonist #mindpowers #telepathy #mindcontrol #target #dam #whatthefuck #zombie #that's about it #justkiddingtheresmore #ihatethestupidhashtags #ofalltheartistsinalltheworld #whoisshe #friedshrimp #newtowriting

[imagineofallkindsxxx]

Eternal Flame- Kol Mikaelson 5/?

You Should Be Like Me, Be Single!

Summary: 'You never know whats in a persons heart until you truly know them' - Belle French, Once Upon a Time

Singing. Thats all what Alexandra Gilbert has cared about since she was young and all she would care about until she met him.

With Alexandra fighting vampires, werewolves and all inbetween she may do a thing she vowed never to do, fall in love.

And to think it all started with a walk in the woods...

Waking up from the previous night was like I just had a bad dream but the bruises on my arm remind me that what happened was very very real. I looked at the digital clock on my night stand and saw it read 7:31. Shit. I ran into the bathroom to brush my teeth and have the quickest shower known to man before changing into burgundy dress with short sleeves and ends mid-thigh. Put on some winged eyeliner, highlighter and a nice shade of dark red lipstick. I ran down stairs seeing its 8:05, I'm able to get a coffee quick before heading off to the first day of school. When walking into the kitchen I saw my little brother on a stool. I poured myself some coffee into a travel mug before turning towards him.

"Hey. How are you?" I asked curious to how my baby brother is holding up.

"Alright considering. But I should be asking you that, how are you after last night?" I looked at him thinking of an answer that wouldn't seem selfish and rude but also honest. I hate bitching about Elena towards my brother. I don't want him to feel like he has to pick between the two of us. Before I could answer him, I heard a loud honk outside making me realise that Sam was here to five me a ride to school.

"That's my ride. do you want a lift to school?" I asked like every day and everyday he'd decline

"Nah I'm fine, Elena is taking me." I smiled and ruffle his hair before bidding him good bye seeing out my peripheral vision him trying to fix his hair making me smile a little. I grabbed my bag and walked outside getting into Sam’s car, he picks me up as on his way to school he passes my house, it’s been that way since sophmore year even before me and Elena became estranged.

"Hey, what's up?" Sam asks.

"Hi, nothing just a bit tired that's all. We still on for tonight?" I replied leaving out the reason I didn’t sleep being because of the worrisome thoughts about a certain Lockwood.

"To my knowledge. Hope so anyway, first performance in a month this Saturday. We need to prepare." He said determined to do well this weekend. Sam was always the most determined out of the four of us which I admired greatly. I hummed in agreement to his previous statement. We listened to music trying to find any song that would fit our genre on the radio before pulling up into the school parking lot filled with miserable teens not wanting to go back to school. We got out grabbing my bag and helping Sam with his bass I told him I'd meet him inside at our spot which I already know James will be lurking, he’s always early to get in. I saw my sister and her friends and walked up to them hearing Caroline say.

"Here we are. Senior year." Which made me sigh making my presence known.

"Anyone else think it should feel slightly more empowering?" Bonnie said voicing my thoughts of how deflating and normal this feels.

"Absolutely Bon. Understand where you're coming from." I replied agreeing with the witch.

"Okay. So, prank night was a bust. But we are accepting it, and we are moving on" she addressed us all not making me feel any better but for sake of pretence I put a smile on my face. This was before the pity party of my friends started with Bonnie starting by saying.

"You're right. I mean, why should I let the fact that my boyfriend is seeing the ghost of his dead girlfriends hinder this experience?" Wait what? Jeremy is speaking to his dead girlfriends? Plural? Jesus this is fucked up

"Today's our anniversary. Technically, Stefan and I met on the first day of school last year."

"Yes! And why should I let the fact that my boyfriend was turned into a hybrid put a damper on an otherwise fabulous day?" Caroline added making me think fair enough. Then Elena spoke.

"Okay you win" Caroline declared, this is when I stepped in and started walking backwards away from my sister and friends.

"Won what? The biggest pity party? You should be like me ladies, be single! Much easier than dealing and worrying about little boys!" I said with a huge smile on my face. I mean what's the big deal? "I’ll see you later." Walking away from the group of girls. I walked to our spot where I now realised Mark had joined also. this led to the four of us discussing what class we have next.

"I've got gym. Fantastic" Sam says sarcastically "Just what I need to start the first day of school"

"Better than math, feel like poking my eyes out just with the thought of quadratic equations" Mark states groaning at the thought of the numerical based class.

"I've got history. Decent compared to you two." I said looking at my time table.

"Same, thank god. I'm terrible at history. I literally only passed because I copied most of the work off of you." James informed me of his cheating.

"Gee thanks Jamie. feel so great about one of my best friends cheating." he just ignored me turning towards the rest of the group, "I'm going to put my stuff in my locker. Meet you here before heading to history?" I asked James.

"Yeah, sure." He dismissed me too engrossed in the conversation about a football game next week? Honestly, I don't particularly care about the game itself but the players do make up how boring the sport is.

I stalked off to my locker putting in my combination before seeing Elena and Caroline a few lockers up from me.

"Hello ladies." I said letting them know that I am there where Caroline shhh'd me pointing towards my sister who was on the phone, I gave her a questioning look.

"Damon" she whispered and I nodded in realization.

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

"Rebekah? She's living with you now? Why?" asking many somewhat reasonable questions about the original, she’s quiet for a few seconds which I’m sure is waiting on Damon finishing.

"What about Stefan? What is he up to?" Asking about her beau worrying about him and his most likely death count. She waits while Damon answers.

"Come on Damon. I can handle it. What?" Persisting that Damon tells her what her boyfriend is doing before taking her phone away from her ear revealing he hung up on her. Yikes, must be bad.

Caroline then when the conversation finished put up a flyer next to me with it saying 'Spirit Squad Back to school Bonfire'.

"Is that tonight?" I questioned my friend forgetting all about the tradition, hopefully this one doesn’t turn out the same way the prank night did.

"I forgot about the bonfire" Elena said having more important matters to think about. Caroline taking our forgetfulness as not wanting to go by her rushing to say.

"You have to go. it's our first spirit quad event. And it sets the bar for the whole year." But me and Elena both ease her nerves by confirming that we will go and for her to relax. "Thank you. It's just that..." but before she could finish Tyler comes in suddenly and kisses Caroline.

"Happy first day!" he exclaims to the three of us which I give a small smile at until I see the red mark on his shirt which Elena clocks as well.

"Is that blood?" The brunette asks.

"Oh my god!" Caroline exclaims before pushing him into the boy’s bathroom with me and my twin following the couple.

"What's going on?!" he exclaims seeming genuinely confused about how having your breakfast on your shirt is a bad look.

"Vampire 101... don't wear your breakfast to school!" I'm checking if anyone was in the cubicles and would hear the supernatural based conversation going on between the couple.

"Chill out. it’s just a blood bag." Tyler said attempting to defend himself.

"From where?" Caroline questioned still extremely angry looking, before I could see this car crash of a conversation get even worse, I decided to escape

"Yeah. I’m just going to go now. Bye" being awkward but I had to get out of there. "Thank Christ I'm single" I muttered when I left the restroom.

I walked towards the spot in the corner only seeing James making me think the rest have went to class.

"Did you just come out of the boy’s restroom?" he asked confused about my whereabouts.

"Don't ask." I said and surprisingly he didn’t make fun making me think that I look quite stressed about the fact my friend turned hybrid is now going around with blood on his shirt.

It’s not even first period.

"Let’s just get to class."

When walking to class we made idle chat James trying to keep my spirits up. "Thanks James. I might let you cheat off my first paper just for this."

"For what?" he asked looking confused

"Being a good friend" yet he still looked confused when we walked into the class together, I saw my sister and Alaric talking quite closely making me furrow my eyebrows before smiling at the teacher and walking to the middle of the class where neither of us would be noticed. the class bell rang as I got my notebook out and wrote 'AP American History' on the front copying from the blackboard on the front. I overheard Elena saying to Alaric

"Look, him being here is not good for any of us. We have to do something." making me give her a questioning look which she dismissed by mouthing 'later' but something tells me it might have to do something with a vampire boyfriend with hero hair. Elena sits in her usual seat with Caroline coming and sitting next to left and Kyle sitting on her right well before our new resident psycho comes in to my shock going right to Kyle before saying menacingly.

"You're in my seat" making Kyle move to another seat. Poor Kyle.

Before anything else could be said Alaric started to teach the class

"Welcome back seniors. Let’s turn our brains back on, starting with this country's original founders... the Native Americans." Great can already feel how fascinating this lesson is, James already looking like he will fall asleep at any moment before class has even begun.

"What about the Vikings?" a girl asks taking a seat next to me

"She's hot" I heard a whisper come from my left making me give him a glare. before going back to looking at the blonde sitting next to me. Ric just replied by saying "There's no evidence the Viking explorers actually settled in the United States. Who are you?"

"My names Rebekah and history is my favourite subject"

Hope you enjoyed reading.

A/N: I fucked up with chapters so this is chapter 3 the beginning of 'smells like teen spirit.'

his was is the beginning of the episode and next will introduce Alex best girl friend Ash, dynamics between her and a certain character and more of the band.

Any British slang, spelling or grammar problems let me know.

Thanks for reading Lovelies xxx

Please comment any positive or negative feedback

#kol mikaelson imagine #kol mikaelson x you #kol mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelaon #the vampire diaries imagines #the originals imagine #kol mikaelson series

[thelittlesttimelord]

The Littlest Timelord: The Fall of the Eleventh Chapter 35

TITLE: The Littlest Timelord: The Fall of the Eleventh Chapter 35 PAIRING: No Pairing RATING: T CHAPTER: 35/? SUMMARY: Elise Smith is now a teenaged Timelord. In addition to losing the Ponds, the fields of Trenzalore are calling. But first they have to figure out exactly who Clara Oswald is.

It’d been a few weeks since the Doctor had dropped Elise off with Madame Vastra.

Of course, she’d teased him saying he only wanted alone time with Clara. He’d blushed and stuttered and then sent her on her way.

She wasn’t worried however. He’d come back for her eventually. He always did.

“Elise, come to the conservatory dear. We have a visitor,” Madame Vastra told the young redhead.

“I fail to see how this concerns me.”

Vastra had to keep reminding herself that this Elise wasn’t the shy and timid girl she had first met. This one was flippant to anything that didn’t have to do with her father, Clara, or herself.

“I believe it may have to do with what drew your father here in the first place.”

Elise relented and followed Madame Vastra to the conservatory.

A man, Mr. Thursday, was waiting for them.

Jenny stood on one side of Madame Vastra, while Elise stood on the other.

“Thank you for agreeing to this meeting. I'm told you are the investigator to see if there are strange goings-on.”

“I read of your brother's death. Another victim of the Crimson Horror, I believe?”

“So it is claimed. He was a newspaper man. He and a young woman were working undercover. Tell me, Madame, do you know what an Octogram is?”

Elise had no idea what that even was.

“It is a silly superstition, sir. The belief that the eye can retain an image of the last thing it sees.”

Thursday pulled out a picture and handed it to Jenny.

Jenny handed it to Vastra who removed her veil to see better. “Good grief.”

“Oh, god,” Mr. Thursday gasped and fainted. Once Mr. Thursday had been removed from the home, the three women went down to a darkroom where Jenny and Vastra enlarged the picture.

“Well, I'll be blowed. I think, Madame, that we'd better make plans to head north,” Jenny said.

Staring back at them from the picture of the dead man’s eyes was the Doctor.

Elise sighed. What had he gotten himself into this time?

They quickly assembled what they would need for their rescue mission and started their carriage ride to the North.

“According to my research, Sweetville's proprietor holds recruitment drives for her little community. She is only interested in the fittest and the most beautiful,” Madame Vastra explained.

“You may rely on me, ma'am,” Strax said, causing Elise to roll her eyes.

“I was, in fact, speaking to Jenny.”

“Jenny. If this weak and fleshy boy is to represent us, I strongly recommend the issuing of scissor grenades, limbo vapor and triple blast brain splitters.”

“What for?”

“Just generally. Remember, we are going to the North.”

“I think I should go with Jenny,” Elise said.

“Absolutely not,” Vastra told her.

“Why not?” Vastra sighed.

“Because your father put you under my protection and frankly dear, your temper would get you in trouble.”

“My temper? I don’t have a temper!” Elise settled back into her seat and crossed her arms over her chest and sulked like a small child.

Vastra smiled to herself. It didn’t matter how old the Timelord got, she still acted like a spoiled child when she didn’t get her way.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A day or so later, Mr. Thursday came around and had to be dragged into the drawing room.

“He faints an awful lot. I’m not human and I know that’s not normal,” Elise said.

“It asked for permission to enter and then it fell over. What are we to make of it?” Strax asked.

“I imagine Mister Thursday wants to know what progress we are making. The question is, how did the Doctor's image come to be preserved on a dead man's eye? It's a scientific impossibility. I wonder how Jenny is getting on.”

“If she hasn't make contact by nightfall, I suggest a massive frontal assault on the factory, Madame. Casualties can be kept to perhaps as little as eighty percent.”

“I think there may be subtler ways of proceeding, Strax.”

“Suit yourself.”

“Why do you keep him around?” Elise asked.

Vastra sighed. “Because he’s a surprisingly good butler.”

Vastra and Elise headed to the morgue to find out more about this “Crimson Horror”.

“Them new manufacturers can do horrible things to a person. Horrible. I've pickled things in here that'd fair turn your hair snowy as top of Buckden Pike,” the morgue owner said.

“You know what I'm looking for.”

“Oh, aye. All them bits found in t'canal. The Crimson Horror.” He handed Vastra a large bottle about half full of red liquid.

Vastra turned around and threw off her veil, examining it. “It hardly seems possible.”

“What is it?” Elise asked her

. “I think…I think I've seen these symptoms before.”

“You have? When?”

“A long time ago.”

Elise narrowed her eyes at the lizard woman. “How long ago?”

“About sixty five million years.”

Elise took the bottle from Vastra. “How the hell is something from that long ago surviving today?”

“That’s precisely what we need to find out.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After getting lost and picking up a small boy for directions, they finally made it to Sweetville.

They infiltrated and found the Doctor.

Elise strode in with Vastra, brandishing a sword. Instead of wearing a leather outfit like Jenny, she wore her signature leather jacket, black skinny jeans, blank tank top, and black combat boots.

The Doctor had to admit, the previous Elise had looked odd with any weapon in her hand but this Elise looked born to handle a sword or a gun.

“Let's go,” Vastra told them.

“No, ma'am. We're not escaping. We've got to help the Doctor with Clara,” Jenny said.

Vastra looked at the two Timelords.

“You didn’t tell her?” Elise asked her father.

“I thought you were gonna tell her!” The Doctor looked at Vastra. “Long story.”

“What now, Madame?” Strax asked, “We could lay mimetic cluster binds!”

“Strax,” Vastra said.

“Or dig trenches and fill them with acid.”

“Strax! You're overexcited. Have you been eating Miss Jenny's sherbet fancies again?”

“…no.”

“Go outside and wait for me until I call for you.”

“But Madame, I…”

“Go!”

“I'm going to go play with my grenades.” Strax left.

The Doctor soniced the cubicle in front of him. “Okay, I think she's about done.” He opened the door and there stood Clara. “I know who you think she is, but she isn't. She can't be.”

“I was right, then. You and Clara have unfinished business,” Vastra said.

Clara fell forward into the Doctor’s arms.

“There, there. Hello, stranger.”

“Doctor,” Clara said, poking the Doctor on the cheek. She finally realized they weren’t alone and turned to look at Jenny, Vastra, and Elise. “Hi. What's going on?”

The Doctor put on an accent. “Oh, haven't you heard, love? There's trouble at mill.” He dropped the accent and pointed at Vastra. “She's a lizard.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

As they walked around the factory, the Doctor turned to Elise. “You didn’t…use that on anyone did you?” He couldn’t bear the thought of her killing someone.

Elise laughed. “Of course not. Speak softly and carry a big stick.”

“Theodore Roosevelt.”

“Yep.”

“You know we should visit him some time. My good ole pal Teddy.”

“Of course you’ve met Roosevelt.”

“Course I have. Who doesn’t want to meet Roosevelt?”

“My people once ruled this world, as well you know, but we did not rule it alone. Just as humanity fights a daily battle against nature, so did we. And our greatest plague, the most virulent enemy, was the repulsive red leech,” Vastra said, interrupting the duo’s conversation.

“Ooo, the Repulsive Red Leech. Nah. On balance I think I prefer the Crimson Horror. What was it, exactly?” the Doctor asked.

“A tiny parasite. It infected our drinking water. And once in our systems, it secreted a fatal poison.”

“If it's been hanging around, lurking in the shadows, maybe it's evolved. Or maybe it's had help.”

“Doctor, I've been thinking. The chimney…” Clara started.

The Doctor waved his hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Way past that now. Yucky red parasite from the time of the dinosaurs pitches up in Victorian Yorkshire. Didn't see that one coming.”

“Yeah, but the chimney…”

“But what's the connection to Mrs. Gillyflower? Judgement will rain down on us all. An empty mill.”

Clara put her hands on his shoulders and for a second, Elise thought she was going to kiss him like Victorian Clara had.

“A chimney that doesn't blow smoke.”

The conclusion finally made it’s way to the Doctor’s brain. “Clever clogs.”

“Missed me?”

He grabbed her face and kissed her forehead. “Yeah, lots.” He let go and looked at Elise.

She raised an eyebrow at him.

He pushed past her mental barriers for just a split second.

Shut-up.

#eleventh doctor imagine #eleventh doctor #eleventh doctor fanfiction #doctor who #doctor who imagine #Doctor Who fanfiction #clara oswald #clara oswald imagine #Madame Vastra #strax #jenny #the littlest timelord #the littlest timelord: the fall of the eleventh #the crimson horror

[queen-rogah]

Heartbreak Weather (part 2)

Roger Taylor x Reader

Series Summary: It's the story about the unexpected love between you and Roger Taylor that had lasted through thick and thin, through the challenges and darkness as you both find a way to prove that love is unbreakable...

In this part: The night in the club goes on with you spending your time with Roger. You really want to avoid your feelings to him but it seems like it does not go away—same goes to Roger too.

Warnings: language, lots of fluff, angst, a lot of alcohol consumings, mild smut (not that graphic)

Word Count: 7.7k+ words

Note: more grammar and spelling errors. more time jumps and fast-forwarded scenes. prepare for a sappy roger/cute reader in this part

HEARTBREAK WEATHER MASTERLIST | QUEENROGAH’S MASTERLIST

PART TWO: "BLACK AND WHITE"

"Finally, you're flirting with me." The drummer chuckles.

You blushed in his words as you let out a chuckle too, "I don't think I'm flirting with you Roger." You denied his words.

"What a shame because I wish you had been."

Your heart skipped a beat when he said that to you, with his ocean eyes staring right at you—Roger fucking Taylor, a famous drummer, a lady-magnet and a good-looking bloke enjoys that you're flirting with him, without even noticing that you're flirting. The way he said that was almost made you want to kiss him, but you're only a woman that is intoxicated with different types of drinks and alcohol is already running in your system.

Roger in the other hand waits for your reaction, and your reaction?

You just laughed. Again. Like a fucking maniac.

"I–I..uh..." You soon gulped and put your glass down on the counter, "Roger, I have a question..." You dodged the awkward situation as he hums, letting you tell him your question.

You saw his body moved closer to you and you feel something weird in your body, all because of just his aura.

"I know I saw you back there with two good-looking girls in your place and...I don't want to sound rude here but, are you just here talking to me—flirting maybe just to make me be like those girls? Do you want me under your spell or a one night stand thing because Roger...I am not that kind of a woman. I may be dressed like this, but that's not what I'm planning to do tonight. Or—"

"—I'm not that kind of a man Y/N. I'm not a man that meets up with a girl, sleep with them and just forget all about it in the morning. I really am not, but I respect on what you just said because I guess that's just the only thing you may think of when the name Roger Taylor pops into your head." He responds, sarcasm filled his voice after he said that.

You didn't know this turned out to be...personal.

And you think you just broke Roger Taylor's heart right there.

You absolutely regret on asking him that question in the first place, but your thoughts is that you're just making sure about everything because you really don't want to ruin a night like this in your life. You don't want to give all of you to a man you just met.

"I–I didn't mean to put it that way, I–I'm just making sure." You stammered as you apologize to him.

Roger just nods his head at you, knowing that he's not listening—just your words going through his ear and out in the other ear.

Roger thought you're different.

And all that he's been thinking about is to go back to those two girls in their booth.

"It's nice meeting you Y/N." He finally dismissed himself from you—to clearly avoid any drama as you watch him walk away like nothing had happened. You let out a huge breath when he just ditched you here, but you did get to the point that you're already offending him earlier, so you think it's your fault that he felt bad about himself. You called on the bartender again as you ordered a shot. You never drink too much in your whole life and you think this is the night wherein you'll get shitfaced—like Eleanor said to you earlier.

Speaking of Eleanor, you haven't found her since the time you saw her with that guy. Kelsey too had disappeared in the crowd and Cleo, she's still with John—clearly flirting with him back there.

The bartender came back with your drink as you stare at the alcohol right in front of you, "I guess it's just you and me again." You muttered and drank it all in one sip, then you ordered a second one again, a third one, a fourth one until you didn't count how many shots you've ordered.

When you're drinking all of those shots you've ordered, Roger is walking towards the booth to find the girls already gone, so he didn't get back there, instead he went back to the bar but he's in a far away distance from you, not seeing on what you're actually doing in your life right now. He didn't notice you pushing your way to the dancing people and started dancing with them too. You managed to find Kelsey with two men groping her while they dance as you also dance with them. One guy had his hands around your hips, your back pressed on his chest—dangerously close to him.

Roger wasn't intoxicated, he doesn't feel drunk after all those shots since it's been two hours since those round of shots occurred and the alcohol just faded out. He just had to leave the bar when he suddenly found someone entered the club that he recognizes, they are with their group of friends, wearing those skin tight dresses and revealing clothes to attract men.

Reese.

After that breakup and confession that she's been cheating on him for 5 months, she also planned to go here, with a couple of friends. Just like Roger had also planned after his mini tantrum onstage earlier. And he's still not ready to face her after the words he said to her, but he also wants to face her and say the other things he wants to say.

The words that is better left unsaid.

When her group is closely approaching to where Roger is, he suddenly decided to turn away and never face her, like ever again as he left the bar, walking back to their booth—but only to bump someone on his way there, he looked at the person to suddenly see you, looking completely wasted and your hair is sticking on your face because of your sweat that built up because of those body heat in the dancefloor.

"Roger—" You stopped and suddenly felt the bile slowly rising up to your throat. You cover your mouth as you pushed the drummer away, stumbling towards the restrooms. Roger, who's concerned if anything would happen to you, followed you.

Then he saw you going for the men's restroom, that's why he grabbed your hips and guide you to the ladies, "How many drinks have you consumed?." Roger whispered to you, you just ignored him and entered the restroom to let it all out.

Roger waited for you to finish up, his back leaning on the wall across the ladies' restroom.

After a couple of minutes, you are still inside the restrooms, sitting on the floor of one of the cubicles inside. You flushed the toilet two times and regret every ounce of alcohol you've consumed tonight, thinking that it's already in the middle of the night and you have work by Monday. You slowly stood up from the floor, trying to stand up properly this time. You left the cubicle and look at yourself in the mirror, the makeup you've put on is now fading away, so you just put on your strawberry lip gloss on and fix your hair. You stayed inside the restroom for a moment—not knowing that Roger is waiting for you outside.

Roger, who's looking at his watch a couple of times—not caring that it's already 1 in the morning, is still waiting for you to come out. He's already sober and not planning on drinking more again.

"Roger?."

Roger turn to his left to see her again, wearing a flowy kimono top, his eyes grew soft as he remember the words he said to her in that phone call.

"Reese..." He sighs, eyes softening.

"So you're drinking again? I thought you changed already—"

"—change? After that phone call earlier? After you fucking broke my heart through the phone? You're completely unbelievable Reese." Roger disputes, facing away from her.

Reese regrets that she followed him back here since she saw him—his hands holding you earlier. That left her curious about her own ex-boyfriend.

"Roger, always remember that breaking up with you doesn't mean that you will just go back to do the habits that I hate so much. I just want you stay the way you were when we got together." Reese tries to calm the drummer down as he shrugs her off.

"Why are you always pinning everything to me and my mistakes? Well look who fucking cheated in the relationship." Roger defends himself.

"Roger, I—"

"You don't know how you broke me so much when you said you found somebody else and it—" Roger trailed off, "—it made me think of the things that aren't good enough for you to love me."

Reese never see him so vulnerable. The one that he loves so much turns out to be the one who hurts him so much.

"Rog—"

The conversation stopped when you stepped outside the restroom, alcohol still running in your veins but manage to take care of yourself.

"Roger, are you–are you waiting on me?." You asked the drummer. He didn't say anything, he just approaches you, took your hand and left the hallway—leaving Reese all alone and dumbfounded.

Roger leads you back to their booth wherein they are still talking to each other and meeting more people, then watch him walk away from the booth.

You took your fur coat that is laying on the couch beside Cleo, "Where's Eleanor? She needs to drive us home, it's so late." You slap her forearm to get her attention to you.

"Oh, I think Eleanor already left with that guy earlier." Cleo slurred and your eyes widened.

You cursed under your breath, "Then who will drive us back? It's already 1 in the morning." You argued.

"Still early." Cleo replied to you and continue chatting with John and the others. You gave up and put on the fur coat and took your bag.

"Then I'm going alone." You stomp your way towards the exit to see multiple people still coming inside this club. You look around the street to see no cabs—just their own fucking cars. You think of something of how you can go home.

Hitchhike can be dangerous. Waiting for some cabs will never give you hope. Walking is the only way, but it'll take you hours to get back to your flat.

"Walking it is." You groaned, started to take off your heels. You suddenly stopped when the people in line became loud and see Roger walking out of the club with a man who protects him from the raging fans. You watch them making their way to a car parked by the street. Seeing him already hopping inside the car.

And you know just what to do.

"Roger! Roger it's Y/N!." You shout at the far distance and start to walk towards them, but only to be blocked by the man with him. "Wait—"

"Roger's off limits." He said to you and you scoffed.

"Excuse me please, he knows me! Roger, hey!." You wave your hand at the closed window. And then for a couple of seconds of you getting his attention, the windows rolled down with Roger looking right at you.

"What are you doing Y/N? Why aren't you with your friends inside?." Roger asked. You glared at the man, giving him the proof that Roger Taylor really knows you as he loosen his grip on you—letting you stand close to the car. Close to him.

"I–I need a ride home, my friends are already screwed up and shitfaced with alcohol or whatever it is. My friend who has a ride ditched us so, I really need to get home. I'm just by Waterloo Road, you can drop me by the park." You pleaded, watching him think of his answer.

"Alright, get in. We'll drive you home." Roger said and a smile appeared on your lips as he opened the door, letting you in the car. Sighing deeply as you finally will go home. Safe and sound in your home.

The car drives away from the street as you lay your head on the window, watching the streets and it's lights. This night out is truly one of the tiring and stressful—but it's damn memorable. Roger is also silent and looking out on the window by his side too.

You look over to him, feeling like he's not a celebrity but instead just a normal person. Tired, stressed and damaged—all because of the consecutive days of performing and touring from all over the globe. Hands calloused, muscles tight and uncomfortable for the drumming. You can't imagine how much pain he's going through—but probably you know every all of that is worth it to him.

And it left you wondering—who was the girl he's talking to when you stepped out of the restrooms?

"Roger?." You speak in the silence as he look at you, those tired eyes looking right at you.

"Hm?." He hums.

"I've been meaning to ask you. Who was the girl you've been talking to when I finished...you know...throwing up in the restroom." You asked him and you heard him sigh deeply, then you felt him being uncomfortable in that question, "Uh...forget about it, you don't need to answer it—"

"—she's my ex-girlfriend and uh...we just broke up through the phone earlier...before I performed in front of thousands." Roger cuts you off and answered your question.

You gape at him and let his words play along in your head again. That girl, was his ex that broke up with him through the phone.

"I mean...that's an impractical thing to do—breaking up with somebody through the phone." You commented.

"Psh—I know right. She found someone else and get in a secret relationship with that man behind my back for the last 5 months." Roger replied.

"That's fucking terrible." You reacted, then start to wonder again, "But why are you still talking to her earlier? Aren't you feeling a bit off with her with what happened?." You asked.

"I am a bit off of her but...the break-up is just so fresh and...you know, she's my first love. We shared years together, she moved in with me too but it turns out it's just a one big sham." Roger answered.

You didn't asked anything else to him anymore as you felt that he finally let it out. The burden, the pain, the heartbreak.

You took an intake of breath before you suddenly lay your hand on top of his. He reacted on your touch as he looked back at you, seeing his surprised face. Instead of what you thought he would do, his hand that's under your's slides off and took yours too, letting your fingers fully intertwined with his own. You can't stop staring at your hands together and just gave him a small smile, letting it be.

It's nice. The silence. And hands tied together.

...

The car finally reached the park. The hand holding also turned into something different—it's now your head laying on his shoulder when you took a small nap while on the road earlier. You woke up just before the car would arrive and now you're finally here, only a few steps away from your flat. Before leaving the car, you faced Roger.

"First of all, you're the celebrity I've ever met in person..." You chuckled.

"Oh really?." Roger raises his brows at you as you nod your head.

"Well, I nearly met Mick Jagger but there's just a lot of girls before wants to meet him and me and my friends gave up on it," You said, "And um, Roger?."

"Yeah?."

"Do you...want to come inside? Give you food and maybe painkillers for the hangover...as a way of my thank you for the help and the ride home." You shyly asked the drummer.

Roger was astonished on your offer, but the time breaks everything off. He really wants to come with you.

"I love to but it's so late Y/N, and I am on tour. I'm a busy man, perhaps, I can walk you there. I can't stand seeing you walk alone in this street." Roger said as he is now taking off his seatbelt.

"Roger, you don't have to—"

"—but I want to." Roger cuts you off.

You know you can't argue with him, "Okay." You gave him a small smile and took your seatbelts off too. You both left the car then started walking together towards your flat that is only meters away from the park where the car stopped.

You have your arms crossed in front of your chest, warming them in your fur coat. Roger has his hands stuffed in his pockets.

There's a distance between you two while walking there. Silence. Only hearing the barking dogs nearby—and crickets too.

"You know what," Roger suddenly spoke first amidst the silence, "I actually called this night the worst night of my life because our show earlier is bullshit, my long-term girlfriend broke up with me then I met her again and I broke my drumset—almost hitting Freddie onstage. But—"

You furrowed your brows when he stopped talking, "—but?."

"I don't know..." He trails off.

You finally stopped in front of your flat, Roger looking around the place and then right back at you.

"Well, are you sure you don't want painkillers?." You asked again.

Roger chuckles, "I'm fine Y/N, and you should be the one who needs to drink the painkillers. I saw what alcohol did to you." He smirks.

"Ugh, I'm horrible when I'm drunk." You replied, regretting that you consumed a lot of drinks tonight.

"So don't drink a lot next time. You seriously need a full-time nanny to take care of you when you're drunk." Roger again teases you.

"Oh fuck off." You laughed, "So this is goodbye, Roger Taylor."

"Don't say goodbye to me like you'll never going to see me again. We'll meet again soon, I promise that. You're–you're something to me Y/N." Roger said. You can literally feel your heart thumping loudly in your chest.

"Well then it's not goodbye Roger. I'll see you soon." You softly smiled at him before taking steps closer to him and plant a soft kiss on his cheek. The drummer was frozen shock when you showed that affectionate side of yours as he just watch you lean away and step inside your flat—making sure to wave goodbye before closing the door behind you.

You really are something to him.

...

NOVEMBER 27, 1974 — OLYMPEN: LUND, SWEDEN

Ever since that night, Roger wasn't over you.

You're in his mind all the time. Even though he met several girls on tour—slept with the others, but his mind was still glued to that moment you plant that kiss on his cheek. He was never been so sappy his whole life ever since him and Reese are sti together. Now those feelings he felt towards Reese before—he felt that again when he's with you.

And he loved that. Every bit of that.

And now that they've left the UK again, Roger knows that it's going to be a long time that he'll meet you back there. His body is focused on drumming and performing their music in front of the people who adore them, but his mind was clearly all about you. Not with the groupies who always comes with them on tour and tries to entertain the drummer.

"Earth to Roger Taylor!."

Roger snapped out of his thoughts when he heard Brian's voice echoed through this empty venue that'll soon be filled with loud and excited people that loved their music. They all heard most of the people in Sweden today are loving their works and Freddie—also the other boys don't want their performance a load of bollocks again. They want it to be perfect.

"Sorry—just thinking of somethin'." Roger muttered and gripped his drumsticks again as he steps on the bass—playing the queue.

But Brian suddenly interfere, interrupting the sound check, "It's so weird that you are so suddenly quiet and always thinking things. What's gotten into you lately after that night in the club back in London? What is uh, Cleo's friend—"

"—It's Y/N." Roger corrects him.

"Oh yeah, Y/N, that's her name." Brian said. Roger has his brows furrowed in confusion at the guitarist right now.

"And what about her?." Roger asked him.

Brian stood on the drum risers as he stared at him for a few good seconds—like he's reading his mind through staring in his eyes, "You're in love with her." He smirks.

Deacy lets out a snorted laugh and Freddie was shocked. Had his mouth agape.

"W–what? No! I–I am not in love with her—"

"—okay cut off the teases and let's just finish this sound check. Get off the drum risers Brian." Freddie stopped Brian's tease as Roger glared at the guitarist, who's clearly having fun bugging Roger—a clever liar.

"Yeah, get off the bloody risers and play your part. Come on let's start over." Roger said then played the tune of the music again.

Freddie sang the lyrics.

Brian and John joins in again with their electric and bass guitar.

Roger perfectly played his part—not zoning out anymore.

By the time the soundcheck ended, they all got inside the dressing room. There's still two hours before the show and to spend the time—Freddie sets up the scrabble that he always brought on tour so that he'll play with the others.

Of course, Freddie always wins.

Brian and Roger is always pissed off. John was just amused on their reactions while playing the game and Freddie beating the shit out of them.

"Brian! You promised we will have that rematch." Freddie teases Brian as he sighs, soon sitting down with him—picking his letters.

Instead of Brian's usual frowning face in seeing his letters, he's wearing a smirk—feeling that he might win this one.

Roger didn't joined the game. He found himself his own distraction-the blonde groupie that's been following the band since day 1 of the tour. He found himself a cigarette, now sitting on a chair where the girl is sitting behind his chair with her arms wrapped around his shoulder, her head resting on his neck.

He's just thinking about you earlier and now he have himself wrapped around the arms of this girl.

He really don't know what to do with his love-life anymore after that break-up. Tabloids have already known the break-up where it is shown in every celebrity page of a magazine or newspaper. It's always been Roger and Reese's face on that page, flashing to every reader that they got into separate ways.

He also saw Reese pictures with her new boyfriend. Hand in hand while walking around London.

Roger was still jealous. He still have that heartbreak inside of him.

"Want to have fun before you guys go onstage?." The blonde groupie—not sure if her name was Corinna or Karen but close enough, whispered in the drummer's ear.

Roger didn't said anything, he just stood up from his chair, holding the groupie's hand and led her inside the bathroom—locking it afterwards to prevent disturbance. He cups her face then kissed her hard, also pushing her back until her back was pinned on the tilted wall of the bathroom. He felt her hands reached down his crotch, soon groped his bulge while he's making out with her. Teeth clashing together in that heated kiss.

She soon slowly got down on her knees, facing his crotch as she unbuttoned his jeans and pulled his fly down and finally pulled his jeans down, wrapping her hands around him—giving it a few pumps.

"You like that?." She moans out her words, her hand still doing all the work.

Roger had his eyes closed—but all that is in his mind is you.

And that's where he lost it.

"—I'm sorry...I'm–I'm suddenly not in the mood." Roger mutters as he stops the girl, putting on his jeans again and looking at himself in the mirror. Clearly asking himself why did he just thought of you while this chick will almost give him a blow job.

"W–what? Roger?—" She stammered but he was now out of the door, walking back inside the dressing room where the boys are already getting ready.

Roger showed them a restrained smile, "How's the game?." He asked Brian as he reaches out to John's cigarette box, lighting up the cigarette resting between his lips.

"For the first time in history, I had beaten the shit out of Freddie in scrabble." Brian laughed at the lead singer—Freddie still giving him an annoyed look.

"Not that he won over Freddie tonight, he also beaten Freddie's highscore." John said. Brian was beyond proud of himself.

"What's the high score now?." Roger asked.

"One—fucking—sixty-eight hundred points in just a single word." Brian boasts with that wide smile. Freddie is still annoyed that someone finally beats him in the game.

"What's the word again?." John asks the guitarist.

"Lacquers. With a Q on the triple, all seven letters, triple word." Brian answered the bassist.

"Enough with the bragging, we got a show in 30 minutes. Let's all get ourselves ready and Roger..." Freddie stood up from his chair and start to look for his stage clothes.

"Yeah?." Roger replied.

"...your fly is undone." Freddie smirks at the drummer then left the room.

"Fuck." Roger groaned and zip himself up.

...

DECEMBER 8, 1974 — LONDON, ENGLAND

"Thank you." You thanked the vendor as she handed you the bag full of the clementine that you bought.

Christmas will be three weeks from now. People have been in and out of the markets to buy some Christmas gifts, and some are buying foods for the holiday—just like you. Avoiding the Christmas rush soon.

Your parents cancelled their visit to your place since they have this Christmas and New Year's party with the other neighborhood back home, completely leaving you all alone in the holidays. They will just visit just after the New Year's Day.

No parents in the holidays this year. So your plan this holidays is to eat your favorite dishes and get drunk while dancing to Elton John.

That sounds perfect.

You walk around the marketplace, looking and buying for more foods to cook and a wine to drink for Christmas. Then something catches your eyes, it's the newspaper where you saw the huge Queen plastered on the first page. You approached the booth where the newspapers are and took it, reading the headline that it's Queen selling out more venues around the world.

The new rock royalties dominating the world—yes, you heard them! It's Queen!

The photograph was Freddie singing out in the crowd, Brian on his left playing his guitar, John on his right playing the bass and on the drum risers is Roger who have his arms up while holding the drumsticks.

A small smile appeared on your lips, remembering your small time with the drummer that one late drunken night.

And then your eyes trained over the side of the paper, reading that it's about Roger along with a paparazzi picture of him and a beautiful lady trailing behind him as they leave the band's after party in Hamburg. He's holding her hand—guiding her out of the paparazzis.

Then you just imagined yourself being with him like that wherein cameras are flashing around. Being a couple, hands intertwined and both wearing fur coats.

You sighed and just put the newspaper back on it's shelf and carry on walking around. That night was three weeks ago—but felt like it's just yesterday.

You returned to your place, putting the bags filled with what you'll cook for Christmas on the small dining table in the kitchen. You took the phone and decided to call on Cleo.

"Hello?." Cleo answered on the second ring.

"Can you come over? I need someone to share the wine with." You replied, fingers looping around the phone cord.

"Nobody's stopping me for a free wine. Be there in 5." Cleo chuckles in the other line and hang up.

While waiting for Cleo, you took the wine that you just bought together with two glasses. You also played some music. The soft tune of the song filled the room.

"Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band. Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you'll marry a music man..." You sang along while you open the wine and poured it on each glasses.

Just in time for the doorbell to ring.

You open the door to see Cleo before you-inviting her in. She take her jacket off and look around your place. Your tiny flat that you've been living for almost three years now.

"Free wine and Elton John playing," Cleo said and looked back at you, "You're going through something aren't you?."

You sighed, looking back on the newspaper where the picture of Roger and that girl with him then suddenly went all the way back when he driven you home. And your cheek kiss.

"It's nothing, it's just all about the thing I've said to you about Roger that one time." You said, now sitting on the couch with her while drinking the wine.

"I still can't believe you kissed Roger Taylor's cheek. Many girls are trying so damn hard to be on your place." Cleo smirks.

"It's hard to forget him because he promised me that night won't be our last night and soon to meet him again." You replied.

Cleo stopped drinking her wine, "Wait, you didn't told me that part though." She said.

"Oh, I didn't?." You asked. Cleo nods her head to you. "Then now you know. Roger promised he'll see me again and I can't believe I'm holding on to that even though it's been three weeks since that night and there are already pictures of him with a girl."

"Roger Taylor is a rockstar and rockstars meet a lot of women. He can't avoid a little distraction while on the road, especially for those groupies." Cleo said.

And that left you thinking how Roger was doing while on the road together with those groupies.

...

DECEMBER 13, 1974 — PALAU DELS ESPORTS: BARCELONA, SPAIN

Roger arrived late in the venue with a hangover because last night's happenings. When the time they landed in Barcelona, Freddie already planned on throwing a party for the last day of European tour. So, he rented a whole pub for them to invite all the people they know.

The management team. Some lucky fans. Roadies. Groupies.

A lot of alcohol was consumed by everyone in the room. A lot of people also dancing together—skin to skin, a lot of touches and sexual tensions.

They're all making the best out of it. It's the last show of the European tour, then everyone will be on their way home again to celebrate the holidays with friends and families.

Roger spent his time last night with a lot of alcohol and dancing. He soon found himself a girl to spend his night with. That's why he woke up late with a naked girl on the right side of his bed in his hotel room.

And that led him here arriving late in the venue where their last European leg show will happen. He was soon greeted by the others where the roadies are setting up the instruments for the soundcheck. Roger heard Brian playing the intro of Now I'm Here while Freddie is singing the song without the microphone. John was sitting on the stage while playing the bass.

"Thank god he's here." Freddie exhales as he smirks at him, "Rough night?."

Roger took his sunglasses off as he looked at Freddie, "Well it is your fault you threw that party in that club." He said, blaming him.

"You're welcome." Freddie said in sarcasm before turning his heel away from him and towards the stage again.

Roger chuckled and made his way towards the drum risers, playing his part even though he have this massive headache. Brian was also hangover and heard the wrong chords throughout the song.

And the song suddenly have that slow tempo unlike the original tempo of it.

Well, throwing that party would be one hell of a problem today.

Roger was getting pissed—hence the headache.

Freddie also heard the flaw.

"Brian! You're slowing down, we can't slow down!." Roger already argues. Completely stopping playing the drums.

Freddie and John looked at each other, but Freddie tried to break the tight tension.

"Alright, break off—let's have take two." Freddie laughs, trying to lift up the mood.

"I'm trying to slow it a little down—" Brian said, now facing the drummer.

"Well, it doesn't need slowing down. It's—god—it's creeping at the moment!." Roger disagrees.

"Alright, try—" Freddie was cut off, again.

"—God, it was so slow! And it's getting even slower. You always try to play this like I've never—"

"Come on, take two!." Freddie shouts, trying to silenced the hot-headed drummer.

Roger closed his eyes as he massaged his temples, trying to regain his composure, "Alright then, I'll follow you!." Roger said then look away from Brian.

Brian soon mocks him by making crying noises, but Roger didn't hear that.

"Done?," Freddie stare at the both of them as he finally received their silence, "Alright then, let's have take two."

...

"Oi! They're cheating!." Harold shouts as he pointed at Sheila's team while they are arranging the plastic cups pyramid on the table. He saw one of their teams still arranged the cups even though they already passed on to the other station. Completely breaking the rule of following the timer of arranging the pyramid.

It's the Six Stations—a popular team building game in this accounting firm.

A Christmas party is happening right now and you're just standing by the wall, watching them have fun and constantly cheat on the games. They don't care either. As long as they are having fun.

All what matters is that Fauna—your boss offers delicious champagne every Christmas party.

You saw Sheila laughing off her ass as she teases off Harold in being a killjoy about telling that they cheated. Like you just said, they don't care if anyone cheated. They're just here to have fun and receive gifts.

You also have a gift for the annual Kris Kringle gift exchange. You had picked Lorraine on the bowl last week and you just bought her a scarf since it's only suitable for your budget. But the scarf is one of the beautiful scarf you've seen in the market—Lorraine is lucky.

You saw Sheila approaching you while still recovering from her huge laughs in playing the game, "God, Harold is such a dick." She laughs off.

"Why do you always have to cheat? That's why no one really even likes you in this department." You replied to her as you finished off your champagne.

"Yep, no one likes me," She sighs but soon smirked at you, "But not you Y/N." She chuckles.

"Oh fuck off Sheila." You laugh, rolling your eyes at her.

"I've been one of your oldest friends since college. We took the same course, had the same classes since the end of college and even worked on the same accounting firm." Sheila smirks as you finally gave up, showing her a smile on your face.

Sheila Priest. One of your truest friend, but sometimes a pain in the ass.

"Wipe that smirk off your face now and let's join the others. I heard they are already doing the Kris Kringle." You said as you put your arm around her shoulder while walking towards the large conference room of the firm.

Everyone is there, having fun and dancing around. Then you always have to find him talking to someone in the crowd.

Damien Scott.

He's also one of your college friends—but only met him in your last year and you didn't know he will also work here to be an accountant too. He mentioned to you before that he didn't want to be an accountant even though he'll be graduating the accountancy course. All that he wants to become is a music producer. He wants to be behind the procedure of great music from great artists.

You really didn't expect he would turn his dream down to something like this. Just his plain old decision.

You both soon looked at each other as he shoots you a smile. You never talked to him that much, only some simple conversations will rise while taking a break or having coffee. Nothing much had happened.

"Alright people, gather around is we will finally start the Kris Kringle! I hope no one ever bought someone a risqué gift here." Fauna teases. You all laugh around, pointing at any suspects who would probably buy some sex toys.

"That's clearly one of my planned gifts though," Sheila laughs beside you, "And I picked Gerald." She snorts.

"What are you going to give him? A dildo for sure? That one that vibrates." You elbowed Sheila as she's trying to stop her laughs.

"Oh god, I regret getting him a shirt. That dildo would be the best thing ever." Sheila said as she catches her breath. "Well, who's yours?."

"Lorraine." You replied.

"Ugh, she's been a huge problem in getting gifts since she can afford anything." Sheila commented, now looking over Lorraine who's talking to Damien.

No she's not just talking, she's fucking flirting.

"She can afford anything, she can get anything." You said while your eyes are glued to the both of them.

Sheila noticed your stare, then a smirk appeared on her lips.

"Don't tell me you still have a crush on Damien?—"

"—I don't." You quickly replied and just silently sit there.

The Kris Kringle finally starts. Fauna will pick on the gifts that's on the table in front. Those gifts were labelled to the person who will receive it but the Secret Santa won't reveal itself until the receiver will open the gift and look for the person's name inside. Fauna picked the first gift and read who's the receiver.

"Come in front now Hilda!." Fauna said, watching Hilda stood up from her seat with a huge smile on her face.

Hilda receives her gift, opening it in front to see who's her Secret Santa. Then she squeals in happiness, "Jimmy!." She claps her hand, pointing at him and thanking him.

The gift giving goes on, Damien received his gift from Amanda and Sheila already received a gift and it's surprisingly from Lorraine. She got her a designer bag which sent Sheila to cloud nine and kept asking her if Lorraine's serious about the gift. Of course, she's serious. Your self-esteem and confidence lowered for your gift to her—hoping she would like it.

"Let me have Lorraine here in front!." Fauna again announced a name and that probably froze you in your seat.

You watch her made her way towards Fauna in front and gave her the gift, that turquoise colored gift bag that you used came from Eleanor that she also used for your gift in Christmas last year, Lorraine already have it in her hands and excitedly opened it.

"God I hope she likes it." You whispered to yourself.

"I love it!," Lorraine reacts as she pulls out the scarf you've bought, then came on your name inside. "Y/N, Y/N's my secret Santa." She smiles.

She walked up to you with the scarf already around her neck that completely suits her outfit, "This scarf is the same scarf that my dad gave to me before he passed away when I was a little girl. My mom, which is a monster, threw away that–that priceless scarf. And then now you're here, giving me this scarf again gives me life Y/N. So, thank you so much." Lorraine tears up as she tries to wipe away the tears so that it won't ruin her makeup.

Your heart flutters when you heard her story as you suddenly pull her in a warm hug, "You're welcome Lorraine." You smiled while rubbing her back for comfort.

"Fuck, I bloody cried." Sheila said and look over her wiping off those small tears of her's too. You let out a quiet chuckle and Lorraine finally pulls away from your embrace.

The moment was interrupted when you suddenly heard your name from Fauna. All eyes are on you when you are walking up front to receive your gift. A smile crept up your face while looking at the gift and finally open it up, revealing a book inside.

You pull it out and it's the book that you've been reading back in college—since you always go to the library after finishing a class.

Gustave Falubert. Madame Bovary.

You look for the name inside the bag but it's not there, but when you turn over the page of the book—there it reveals a small letter inside.

You remember it was a line from the book itself.

It was the fault of destiny!

You look at the bottom to see your secret Santa.

Damien.

"Damien," You muttered as you find him in his seat to see him already looking at you, "Damien's my secret Santa." You smiled.

You also smiled at Fauna before walking back to your seat with Sheila, Lorraine already got back to her own seat beside Damien. The brooding brunette man still has his eyes on you—deciding if he would talk to you or not.

"Madame Bovary. I remember that book you always read back in college when we visit the library. I think you already read that book a million times now—"

"Well, it's only been 7 times that I read this book over and over." You corrected her. Sheila shrugs.

"Still feels like a million times to me. I can't even stand reading Romeo and Juliet before and I didn't even finished it!." Sheila said as you laughed at her, reminiscing the time when she gave up reading Romeo and Juliet because of the deep English words that's out of her vocabulary.

You and Sheila goes on talking about your college life until the Kris Kringle is done. Everyone's got their own gifts and finally wrapped up the party since it's already 9PM. You can always catch Damien's look on you while you're arranging and cleaning the conference room. So you decided to make the first move.

You walk up to him and saw you coming towards him too, "Damien, hey uh...I'm just here to thank you for the gift you've got me. Madame Bovary is...close to my heart. I'm glad that um...I finally own a copy of it." You showed him a smile, feeling like it's an awkward one.

"You're welcome Y/N. You know the thing is, I know that book is very important to you." His deep Irish accent again fills your ears and what he said caught you off guard.

"W–what? Does it mean..." You try to remember your first year in college, where you still didn't even know him, "...are you the student librarian before?."

Damien broke off a smile, "Yes, yes I am. I remember that book is always the one I have to write down in your library card." He chuckles.

"God, I'm sorry. It must've been a tough time for you always writing down Madame Bovary in my card," You laughed as he laugh along too, "So uh, again, thank you Damien. It really mean so much to me."

"Anything for you Y/N."

The conversation ended there.

Your heels turn away from him again, walking away as you approach Sheila who's waiting for you in the main entrance of the building.

"Aren't you be heading home?." You asked her.

"Sleepover at yours? It's been a year since I slept in your flat again." Sheila asked with that pleading eyes again.

"Fine. You can stay at mine's." You said and Sheila throw her arms around you while walking down the block—already excited and planning on hanging out in your place until midnight.

...

Doorbell.

The doorbell was ringing—it's already 10AM.

You and Sheila are still enjoying your sleep. Her legs are resting on top of your hips as you kick her legs out from you.

"Sheilaaaaa, can you get the door for me please?." You slurred in your sleep, saying that with your eyes closed.

Sheila groans but you still slap her arm to wake her up.

"Sheila." You groaned and turn to your other side, pulling the covers off her.

Sheila opens her eyes and glared at you before leaving the bed, still sleepy and tired. She pushed the stray hairs away from her face as she reach out for the knob, opening the front door.

Your friend was shocked to what she's just looking at.

"Y/N!." Sheila shouted from the front door.

You heard it as you slowly open your eyes, but never leave the bed. Maybe the whole neighborhood also heard Sheila's scream.

"Y/N! Roger fucking Taylor is outside your door!." Sheila screams again.

And that made you jolt up from your bed.

"What?!."

___________________________ FINALLY I FINISHED THIS PART! It's been days since I've been working this part though—it's kinda tough.

Anyways, DAISY RIDLEY as Sheila Priest

And NIALL HORAN as Damien Scott (ok guys i had to. I HAD TO!)

Then this is Reese's outfit in the club:

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