#three weeks ago i asked them for their brand book and they said they didn’t have one

[p1tstop]

[maemelany]

RACING HEARTS - Part I: Miami

Well hello, 

Life happened, and I didn’t write a fanfic in … three years, lol. 

I did write an actual book and will probably publish it sometime next year – but I needed a break from it. So here’s a small something (don’t know if it’s going to be a series, no promises here) 

Anyway, I’m back and enjoy

Mae 

Summary: y/n is an influencer who is doing very well currently. She has no interest in F1 and only watches races because her little brother is a huge fan. So when a sponsor offers her passes for the Miami weekend with Mercedes, she cannot refuse and decides to surprise her little brother. 

But will he be the only one to be surprised? 

Warnings: none, just fluff 

Word count: 3.2k 

Part II here

Friday Practice Sessions

It was hot. You expected the sun to be out because it was Miami, after all, and you were glad you went with that light summer dress you got gifted by a brand after the Paris fashion week a few months ago. 

The paddock was full of celebrities, some you recognized and had seen before, and others you were simply starstruck to encounter in such a casual environment. Especially since it was still Friday, not even the actual race day. 

Of course, the Miami F1 weekend was big, and getting paddock tickets was a big deal. And even if you suddenly forgot how lucky you were, your little brother was there to remind you.  

Of course, you worked hard to get to where you were now. A few years back, brands couldn’t care less about you. You had to work hard, take your content to the next level, and be consistent���all that while working two jobs to invest in what you knew you were born to do. 

And it paid off. You were still shocked when people you’d only seen on TV knew your name or actors you fangirled on started conversing with you in red carpet lines. 

But really, days like today were what you were most grateful for. The best part of your work was making the people you loved enjoy life, and your brother was ecstatic. With the big age gap between you, you hadn’t had many opportunities to bond. Your brother was eighteen years younger than you and was born after your mother remarried and finally found the happiness she deserved. 

You loved your brother more than anything, but he wasn’t usually the most talkative nine-year-old boy around. 

Maybe he’d talked more since you’d arrived in Miami than he had this entire year. 

But it suddenly stopped when you got to the sponsor’s hospitality suit. Your brother was speechless as soon as he saw the car on display. You found it funny, recording all his reactions to share with your mom later. 

“Y/n, this is crazy. Look how big the tires are!” your brother said, kneeling in front of the car. 

You laughed and nodded. It still wasn’t your scene, but he made it exciting to be there. 

The sponsor’s hospitality suit was something else. Honestly, you weren’t expecting that level of comfort. You had access to free drinks and personalized merch, and they even told you one of the drivers would give you a tour of the circuit later. 

“Do you think we’ll see Lewis today?” Your brother asked 

You chuckled. You may have been a novice in F1, but Lewis Hamilton, that was a name you recognized. 

Not only because he was your little brother’s hero but because you had seen him from afar a few times at events over the years. 

“I don’t think so, but we’ll definitely see him drive.” 

And, of course, you were wrong. 

About an hour after you made that statement, a few gasps, including your brother’s, distracted you from your phone, and you looked up. 

They were pretty far from where you stood, but you could see them. Lewis and George were there, all smiles and already talking to people. 

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! Y/n, do you see what I see?!” your brother cried out. 

You couldn’t help but laugh again. Your brother, who was usually so reserved, was so excited you barely recognized him. 

“Well, let’s go meet them before you pass out,” you said, taking his hand. 

You made your way to the small group around the drivers, waiting patiently for a chance to interact. You could tell your brother was getting more nervous, his gentle and timid nature taking over. 

It was George who noticed and approached you first. He shook your hand and nicely introduced himself to both of you. Your brother tried to keep it cool, only betrayed by how he squeezed your hand. It was only when he asked for a picture with George that things took a turn. 

“What tires do you think you’ll use tomorrow? Please don’t go for the hard again; your car is already lacking pace,” your brother suddenly asked. 

George looked surprised by the question, and you couldn’t help but laugh. Yep, the geek was back with a vengeance. 

Maybe it was George’s face or your loud laugh, but something caught Lewis’ attention, and he stared in your direction before approaching. 

“Y/n?” Lewis said, now, close to your small group 

George raised an eyebrow. “You guys know each other?” 

Lewis did not break eye contact with you and nodded. “You can say that we’ve bumped into each other before.” 

You bit your lip. You wished he had forgotten that. It was the weirdest exchange you’d ever had. You did talk to Lewis once in New York. The event organizer had introduced you, and Lewis was a sweetheart. He was all smiles and shook your hand. He had introduced himself in such a humble way as if half the world did not know who he was. 

But when it was your turn to introduce yourself, things went wrong. You couldn’t pinpoint what destabilized you so much, his angelic face or how he looked at you, but you mumbled something you weren’t sure he understood and then said the most cringy thing ever. ‘I love your dog’

The awkward gene was either running in the family, or there was something about F1 drivers that brought out people's weirdness. 

“I didn’t think you’d remember that,” you finally said, blinking a few times. 

“Oh, I do remember,” Lewis said with a mischievous smile. 

Your brother squeezed your hand, reminding you that people were still around you. 

“Oh, and this is my little brother, y/b/n. He’s a huge fan of yours,” you said 

Lewis kneeled in front of your brother to be at his height. “Nice to meet you, y/b/n. I’m Lewis.”

Your brother frowned and looked at Lewis, then the hand that he was reaching out to him.

Watching your baby brother meet his idol was the funniest thing, and you took out your camera to record it. 

Your brother finally shook Lewis’s hand, telling him how much he loved him. 

“Aww,” you whispered, watching the interaction from your camera lens. 

Lewis looked up at you and smiled before focusing again on your brother. He spent a good ten minutes talking to you both, answering every question your brother had, and even laughing with you at the odd ones your brother shot his way. 

“Lewis, we have to go.” a man approached you and said 

Lewis finally stood up and looked at you with a huge smile. You could feel your cheeks getting warmer and tinkling. Lewis was hot, making it even more destabilizing because he wasn’t even trying. His natural charm and kindness were already enough, but his looks were just a bonus - A bonus you weren’t complaining about. 

“It was really nice chatting with you. And I can’t wait to compete against you in a few years, big guy.” Lewis said 

Your brother frowned. “I’m still karting; you will be gone by the time I’m in F1.” 

Lewis laughed, not at all offended by your brother taking things so literally. 

“I’ll try to wait for you.”   

He smiled one last time at you before saying goodbye. 

None of you said a word for a few minutes. Both of you sinking in what had just happened. 

“Lewis Hamilton is a cool guy,” your brother finally said 

“Yep, he is,” you said, chuckling. 

Your brother had explained what would happen today, but you did not pay attention to his explanation. But now, it suddenly felt more interesting than you thought it would be. 

The cars were fast—faster than on TV, and nothing compared to the many karting races you’ve watched your brother run. 

“And they do that for hours on Sunday?” you asked 

“Yep,” your brother said, a massive smile on his face. 

You could tell he was imagining himself in one of those fast cars one day. And you promised yourself to do whatever you could to help him achieve his dreams. 

Lewis did great during the practice sessions, at least according to your brother's detailed commentary when you asked him if he enjoyed his day.

You were about to leave the paddock with your brother when you heard someone shout your name. 

You turn around to find a man running after you. You frowned, trying to remember if you knew him but couldn’t remember ever meeting that person. 

Still, you stopped, waiting for him to reach you. 

“I’m so sorry for screaming like that. I’m Jamie, I’m on Lewis’s PR team.” 

“Oh, okay…” 

You weren’t sure what to say or why someone from Lewis’ team was looking for you. You patiently waited for the man to catch his breath and tell you what was happening. 

“Sorry… you two walk pretty fast, you know,” he said, chuckling 

He then handed you two yellow passes. You were even more confused. 

“These are VIP tickets for tomorrow and Sunday. Lewis wanted you to have it.”

The confusion was only growing now. Why did Lewis want you to have VIP tickets? Weren’t the paddock tickets already VIP ones? This day, this sport was only getting weirder by the second. 

Jamie must have spotted your confusion because he proceeded to explain what the tickets would allow you to do. Basically, they would allow you access to the garage, the cars, and the Mercedes team during the races. 

“Sick!” your brother said, excited. 

You thanked him and returned to your hotel, wondering why Lewis gave you the tickets. 

Once in your hotel room, you kept thinking about it. You decided not to read too much about it and to accept that it must be a kind gesture to your little brother. Lewis must have seen how passionate he was about F1 and what a gift it would be for someone like him to watch the races up close, next to the people who actually made it happen. 

It had to be why because you refused to believe it could be more. You refused to believe it could be about you. 

You decided to share some content on your social media to change your mind. After all, that was why you were offered the tickets in the first place. 

You went on Instagram, ready to share more about the day on your feed, but you couldn’t help but go on Lewis’s profile. You had a huge smile when you saw his latest post, a picture of him and Roscoe entering the paddock earlier today. 

You were about to leave his page when something odd caught your attention. It said follow back, not just follow. You went blank for a few seconds before realizing what was going on. 

He followed you. It couldn’t have happened a long time ago; it had to be today. So you scrolled through your notifications and found it. He did start following you today, and just like that, your mind started spiralling again. 

You followed him back but did not say anything. Again, you preferred to avoid any assumptions. 

Saturday Qualifications

It was very hot, just like the day before. But there were more people today, as the qualification sessions were more entertaining and significant. 

Your brother was super excited about seeing the actual racing cars and being able to touch them. He even knew some of the engineers’ names and couldn’t wait to meet them. 

When you arrived at the Mercedes motorhome, Jamie met you, the same guy who gave you the tickets the day before. He gave you a small tour of the place, and your brother took pictures of the most basic things. 

You passed George’s room, but he was busy, and you couldn’t say hi. But when you were in front of Lewis’s room, you found yourself hoping you could see him. Just to thank him for the tickets, you told yourself. 

“Look who we’ve got here. Hello guys,” Lewis said when he saw you 

He gave your brother a fist bump before turning to you. Suddenly, you didn’t know what to do, give him a fist bump too, or just wave or… 

You didn’t have time to overthink it as Lewis pulled you into a quick hug. It wasn’t that deep; it could even be classified as a half hug, but still, it was enough for your heart to miss a bit. 

You could feel his toned arm around you and how he smelled so good. Again, your cheeks were starting to betray you, so you looked down. 

“Thank you for the tickets, Lewis. Y/b/n is never going to forget this weekend.” 

“I’m happy he’s having fun. I hope you’re having fun, too.” 

“Oh, I am. Not gonna lie, I’m not the big fan here; he is,” you said, pointing at your brother, who was now talking with an engineer. “But it’s growing on me. I don’t know if it’s the special treatment or the actual driving, but I like it,” you said, laughing. 

Lewis was still looking at you; his smile didn’t move. It only became more mischievous. “We can test that theory right now.” 

Something told you the driver was up to no good. “I’m not sure I like this look, Lewis,” you said 

He laughed this time. His laugh was just contagious. 

A few minutes later, with a few waivers signed and a helmet on your head, you were inside a car with Lewis on the other side. 

“Did I mention that I don’t like speed? I did, right? I barely passed my driving license; I don’t even like cars,” you mumbled as he started the engine. 

The people outside were laughing; even your brother was laughing outside, recording it all. Everybody found it funny, but you didn’t. 

“Please don’t go too far,” you said, turning to face Lewis 

He had that smile again. The one that clearly stated that he was up to no good. “Now, where would be the fun in that?” 

You didn’t have time to argue as he started the car. The sound alone made you scream. He was fast. You could feel your heart beating; it felt like being in the front row of a roller coaster. 

“Oh my god! Lewis!” you screamed again as he took a corner at a speed you couldn’t comprehend. 

“So, do you like the sport more now?” he asked you, smiling 

“Hell no, this is madness,” you said, relieved as you could see the garage getting closer 

“Wrong answer,” Lewis said, accelerating again and missing the stop line. 

“Lewis!” you screamed, but he had found it amusing because he went even faster, something you didn’t think was possible at this stage. “Oh my god, I’m so going to die.” 

He laughed. “No, you’re not. I’m a seven-time champion, remember?”

“Eight. My brother told me eight.” You said, knowing exactly what you were doing. 

“I knew I liked you for a reason,” Lewis said, laughing 

In the end, you did three laps. The last one was the worst. You screamed so much Lewis couldn’t stop laughing. It was pure chaos. 

When you got out of the car, you immediately removed your helmet and turned around to Lewis. 

“You do that for a living? Are you okay?” you asked 

He laughed again. “This doesn’t even get close to the feeling you get in the actual racing car, you know.” 

You turned around to look at your brother, who was still recording. Suddenly, you were happy that he was too young to have the same experience. 

“And you want to do that later too? You want to drive like a crazy person for a living?” 

He just nodded as if it was the silliest question ever. 

You spent another hour with Lewis and the crew, talking about the car and watching them prepare for the qualifying session. 

Even when the atmosphere got more serious, Lewis was still pleasant, talking to you and making you feel included. He took the time to explain some basic things. Things that your little brother did not have the patience or time to explain to you. Y/b/n had found a spot close to the pit wall and was too mesmerized to pay attention to you. 

You watched as Lewis and George completed their laps. The team seemed pretty happy with the final results. While they did not get pole position, Lewis ended up P3 and George P5. That was good enough, considering how they started the season. 

Race Day

Your brother was awake before the sun even rose. He sang in the shower, repeating every five seconds that it was race day like you didn’t know. 

He would make you hate the sport at this pace instead of liking it. 

Y/b/n insisted that you both wear some Mercedes merch you were gifted the day before, and of course, no was not an answer he was willing to take. 

So you ended up in the garage, wearing a white Mercedes t-shirt with George’s 63 in the back. 

The atmosphere was different; it felt electric, and you liked it. You couldn’t experience backstage that way in any other sport.  And it didn’t hurt to have Tom Cruise next to you, making jokes and chatting as if you were old friends. 

“Now, that’s offensive.” 

You recognized Lewis’s voice before you even turned around. He was already in his race suit, sunglasses on. That man knew what he was doing for sure. 

It took you a few seconds to remember what he just said. You asked what he meant, and he removed his sunglasses, using them to point at your t-shirt. 

“After the thrills I gave you, you’re rocking George’s number on your back? I’m offended, y/n” 

You laughed and explained yourself. “There was no way I was wearing that purple sweater under this heat, Lewis. It was the only white t-shirt my brother was okay with me wearing.” 

“So you would have worn mine if it weren’t for the heat?” he asked, smirking. 

Again, you could feel your cheeks betraying you. But you didn’t back down. You stared right at him and nodded. “Yes, I’m more of a 44 girl.” 

“I like that,” Lewis said, smiling at you. 

As much as you wanted to ignore it, you couldn’t. It was there. You liked the smiles, those little stares, and the attention Lewis gave you. At this stage, it was pure attraction; you didn’t know him that well, but the little you had seen only made you more attracted to him. The way he was always laughing and how he treated your brother and his team. You wouldn’t say no to getting to know him better.

You watched the race, finding yourself rooting openly for him and celebrating with the team when he finished at the second place. 

You watched him celebrate with his loved ones; the champagne part was definitely your favourite. Nobody told you that you got to see hot, sweaty men - especially Lewis - pouring champagne and getting champagne poured at them. 

A sight for sore eyes indeed. 

Things got hectic after the race. Between the interviews Lewis had to do, the other people he had to meet, and the flight you had to catch as your brother had school the following day – you didn’t have time to say goodbye. 

It felt unfinished. You wished you had time to talk more, but you were still happy you and y/n/b got to experience that. 

You were already in your seat on the plane when you got the notification from Instagram. You couldn’t help but grin as you read it. 

[cevans-is-classic]

18+ Only, please. Sexual content, oral sex, unprotected sex (wrap it, baby) language, violent content mentioned.

Wanna check out my Masterlists?

Masterpost

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

“Should you be reading that in public?” It’s a testament to the last few years of your life that you didn’t jump when a voice whispered in your ear. 

“Why are you here?” The park is closed at night, well it’s supposed to be. 

How did he know you were here?

Max sidled next to you on the bench, his teeth flashing in the light from your tablet. “You’re very predictable. You get off work, go home, shower, feed Hunter and Angel then take them for a walk. The only place you like to go is here, anyway.” 

“That is creepier than I thought it would be. You could have said you tracked my location or something.” 

The vampire shrugged, “Answer my question, Baby.” 

You stared down at the tablet, tapping your fingers against the side. The low light of the screen reflected off your glasses. You could see them stretch out of the corner of your eye. Instead of answering you lock the tablet, stick your tongue out at him, and stand up. 

“Hunter! Angel! Let go.” Max moved behind the bench when two barks came from the dark. He backs up more when they move into the light, Hunter bounding at full speed while Angel lingers behind him. 

Hunter stops at your legs, looking up once, tongue lolling out before snapping his stare to Max and showing his teeth. When Angel joins in, he doesn’t sneer just rests his snout along your leg. 

“Monsters.” 

Hunter growls. 

“Takes one to know one.” Kneeling to clip their leashes on makes your knee twinge, toppling you to the side. Angel’s weight keeps you up. Four years ago you could halfway do floor squats. 

Now your knee turns to Rice Krispies when you wake up.

You blame Max. 

He reaches out to help you up, Angel and Hunter snarling until you grab his hand and let him pull you up. The blood rush to your leg has you stumbling before finding your footing. 

When the boys are walking ahead of you, Angel looks back now and again to watch Max. He’s never liked the Vampire and simply accepts he’s around — as long as he doesn’t touch him.

Could you train Max?

 Ask him to do something and when he does; reward him. Carry around little hard candies with blood inside or raw meat bites or whatever. If you’re lucky, he’d start listening to you. It might work. There is always hope. 

“I was bored.” 

You take a deep breath, holding it in your lungs until they burn and you let it out, “Again. What do you want?” 

Max touches your arm, moving closer to you and sliding his arm over your shoulders. It confuses you; that he’s warm.

“Okay, I was hoping you could do something for me.” There it is. 

“Max-” 

“You can bring the hounds. They asked me to check out a new business setup. They’ve been selling for a good few years, but their profits won’t come up even. They recommended me, really.”

 He sways his head and flips his hand back and forth. “Give them a push.” 

“With a bonus!” He flashes a grin, fangs down. Your breath hitches, catching in your throat until Max turns his head.

He keeps saying, “It’ll be a three-week trip and I need someone to assist me. I’ve already cleared the beasts’ approval and procured the tickets. Don’t worry I’ve let Allen and Dwight know you’ll be with me and I’ve requested a tailor so we can fit you for meetings. You’re designated as my daytime confidant.” 

There’s a moment of silence. 

“Oh, and a new strap-on that I think you’ll find to your liking.”

 He’s using his professional voice. The voice that wins CEOs over and can convince anyone to do anything. You’ve heard that voice, the tone, being used to sweet-talk middle-aged men into buying pills for hair loss; swaying desperate suburban moms to buy a ‘brand new’ treadmill. 

“Max.” it comes out calmer than you expected. 

“Yes?” 

“When you said you wanted to ask me something you meant you’re going to tell me I’m booked for a trip, I never agreed to. A work trip I am not even qualified to be on? I’m not even in the same department, Max. Why? Why!? Jeremy is who you should have taken you fucking dead asshole.” Your anger boils. “I can’t go with you. I just can’t! You do this every single time. I have a life too, you know? I have friends to see, places to go, and things to do. I have the boys! Traveling gives them anxiety, for fuck’s sake.” 

Max raised a brow and then leaned to look at the dogs. They were both sitting, watching the two of you. 

“Hellhound One and Two?” 

Your nose twitches. “Yes. Hunter and Angel. My dogs.”

“I think they’ll be fine. I got us first class and you have those amazing traveling cages, which means they travel, Sweetheart. Also not to be this guy, but when is the last time you’ve done anything with anyone that’s not me or Kujo squared?” 

His brow twitches, mouth pressing into a smirk. The slow curl of heat in your stomach angers you more. 

“Also, you are qualified. You’re A head in marketing. We need to know how to turn a profit and better marketing is the place to start.”

You rolled your eyes. “Dwight is the head of marketing you dumbass. I’m under him.” 

“Which is why I told him I’ll be taking you. No excuse will keep you from getting on that plane. I would hate to not use the dildo I got for us. It’s your favorite color and trust me, it fits.” 

“I hate you.” 

“Yeah, you do.” 

You ignore him the rest of the way to your apartment, keeping his arm from brushing yours and ignoring remarks he made.

 That’s something you’re surprisingly good at. 

Ignoring Max.

Now, if you could only say fucking no.

-

The boys aren’t tiny lap dogs.

Hunter’s a big beautiful Great Dane who you found digging through the trash outside. 

Max hated him.

He groaned and complained when Hunter started nipping at his feet and growling anytime he touched you. When he’d grown bigger, he started kicking Max out of the bed, resorting to the vampire either leaving or sleeping on the couch. 

Max slept on the couch. 

Baby Angel is a big and fluffy Leonberger.

 He found his way into your life by chasing Hunter down the street as a puppy. You’d been walking him, giving him training commands when a mid-sized puppy came at them. He’d yipped at you, little bits that squeaked. He was skinny, shaking where he stood. When Hunter barked, the little guy dropped his head. Like that, you were in love. 

Max hated him even more

Not that you blame him.

He had you pinned against the wall, his tongue in your ear and fingers sliding in, and out, curling at them. Right. Angle. When Angel woke up, nudging through the door to see the vampire. 

You’re sure it was when he bit your neck, making you cry out and baby Angel took offense. 

He’d learned fast not to fuck with him. 

The point, you chastised yourself, is that traveling with two large dogs isn’t easy.  

Two big dogs that believe their puppies still and don’t understand they can’t run into a hotel room and knock everything over. 

When the lamp crashed into the wall, knocking papers off the side table and tipping over chairs, Max closed himself in the bathroom. 

“I told you! We needed to take them for a walk before we did anything else. They flew for four hours. They need to roam.” 

“Then roam!” He shouts back. 

You snort. “You’re the one who forced me to come.” 

They pulled at their leads until you got them into the hallway — struggling to wrangle them down the stairs. The hotel Max booked is nicer than you expected, which you should have expected, actually. 

He got the two of you a suite, large enough to fit the cages and to pace around when you’re taking a phone call he should handle. Seeing a small park a few blocks away was impressive. 

You’ll give him that. 

Damn bastard put in all the effort to get you to come—the asshole. 

Fuck. 

You want to kiss him, knock your teeth together until he grabs your hips and pulls you in. He’s strong, with a steady, hard body to hold you. If you stumble, He’ll catch you.

You find the park easily enough. A chest-height fence wraps around to make a large square around a patch of trees. The gate swings open, knocking into a pole.

Oh.

You remembered to grab the little baggies as you let the boys loose. 

There are traits about Max that are okay.

He was funny, for starters. Sometimes his jokes go over the edge and you can’t tell if he’s being serious or not, but damn he makes people laugh. His smile was addicting, wide, curling his cheeks, and an actual twinkle in his eye.

Oddly enough, he’s there. 

If you need something, call Max and he’ll get it. When someone broke into your last apartment, he’d gotten there quicker than the police. When they found him dead on your doorstep, Max handled everything. 

He’s a good guy under all the bullshit. 

Of course, he carries a travelogue of terrible traits. He’s abrasive and inappropriate. He doesn’t understand that just because he can do it doesn’t mean he SHOULD do it. 

Max has a nasty habit of using the key you gave him for emergencies to walk into your apartment at any time of the night. 

You can’t do anything without him feeling left out. 

Finding out he’s a vampire was a fucking night. 

A long one. 

You should have found another job after that night. 

That poor delivery man. The man didn’t leave after his assistant signed. Instead, he wanted to hand deliver it himself. That one mistake killed him and shed light that you need several rounds of therapy.

He’d still be alive and you would have never known what it’s like to watch a man die if he’d just left.

Also, maybe you need to address that Max was holding the man by his neck, eyes flashing up to look at you before dropping the body to the ground. The agonal breathing made you feel sick. You kept from falling to your knees to help. 

Max kept looking at you. 

His eyes were dark. Teeth sharp. Blood smeared around his mouth, dripping to his throat. 

“This is why I smoke after work.” You wave at him, little wiggles of your fingers, and Max’s face transformed. 

With a man dying beside you, he held his hand out, “Wanna share?” 

You blame corporate America on that one. Working at a desk, taping away on a computer to push numbers you don’t care about, and making items that don’t matter seem less useless.

A scream makes your head snap to the left. Streetlights stretch over the empty road. Two large hotels nestle along the same street as yours, small sections of trees separating them. 

Tucked into the farthest corner is the dog park. 

Damn near pitch black. 

Another scream. 

Hunter almost knocks you over when he comes running, your knee catching the bench. Pain blossomed from the impact, a lightning bolt right through your kneecap. 

“Hey boy " Angel comes to your other side, alert, back tense. 

You attach their leads, tugging at their harnesses. “Let’s get back to the hotel.” One pull and they walk with you, Angel stuck to your side while Hunter walks a little ahead. Both of them with their bodies tensed, ready for anything. Icy shivers race down your spine. 

Was that fucking Max? 

It would be worse if it’s not Max.

It doesn’t matter. 

You’re in an unfamiliar place, but you have your boys and when you reach the hotel, you have an annoying vampire there. 

Another scream, sounding further away. Your shoulders loosen, steps speeding up. 

Okay, see, it is nothing for you to handle.

Max was at the door when you reached the hotel, holding two dog treats for you and looking over your shoulder. He’s in casual clothes, lounge pants, and a loose shirt. It’s the opposite of the suits you see him in every night. 

You smile. 

“I heard a scream. Didn’t hear the calls of hell, so I figured it wasn’t you.” He holds the door open. 

“You wonder why they don’t like you.” 

Max snorts, “Animals don’t like the undead.” 

“No, Max, animals don’t like you.” You stood off to the side to let him unlock the door. The boys waited in the middle of the room. 

“Hunter.” You held the treat up, “Treat.” He jumps for it, snatching it from your hand and swallowing it whole. 

You lift the other one, “Angel.” His back end lifts off the ground, dropping back down and up. “Treat.” He bounds to you, catching the treat when you throw it 

“I don’t care what you say.” Max touches your side, dancing along the hem of your shirt and resting his chin on your shoulder. “Those two are demon breeds.” 

“Send them to another room, Sweetheart. I want to do something they shouldn’t watch.” 

He’s kissing you before you can retort. He trails a line up to your jaw, gliding his hand up your body to lift your chin. Max pouts, pushing his lips out.

Your eyes drop to them, then back up to his. A finger taps against your lips, and you open them, closing your eyes when they’re pressed against your tongue. 

You sway when he drops his fingers, dragging them down your chin and wiping them off using your shirt.

“Hunter. Angel,” They look up at you, “Bedtime.” They leave the room, walking to the attached bedroom. 

Max huffs, then rips them off. 

Max spins you, walking you backward until you’re dropped into a chair.

It sinks, sucking you in.

He smiles, sharp fangs dipping into his lip. He lowers to his knees, reaching for your shorts and tugging at them. You lift your hips, helping him push them down your thighs, the under getting twisted. 

“Dude!” 

“You have plenty. Come here” The chair goes with you when he grabs under your knees and yanks. He stops it, using his elbow to knock your leg and help it over his shoulder. 

Max stops and rolls his eyes up to look at you. His nose brushes your pubic hair, mouth open, exhaling dry air. It warms you, burns you up, the heat making you throb. 

“Max.” It’s not a whine. 

“Say it, again, Baby.” 

“Max.” Okay, you whined then. 

His tongue licks you open, flicking against your clit. You shimmy, wiggle to pull away but he keeps you still. One hand around one thigh, nails leaving crescent marks, the other grabbing your ass, holding you slick against his mouth. 

His tongue prodding makes you gasp and jerk, the pain in your leg sparking fire up your spine. Your thighs tingle, tightening when he licks further down, along the crack of your ass, and backup. He nips at your clit, using his teeth to tug it; feeling sharp points choke out a high-pitched noise. 

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He lets go of your ass, shifting to give room for his fingers to slide into you. A swift slide, two fingers spreading apart. He licks between them, delving deeper and deeper than his fingers plunge in and out. The fire burning you from the inside out stretches across your collar, and down your sternum, A high-pitched noise rings in your ears.

“Max,” You roll your hips, “Max.” He goes faster, curves his fingers, circling his tongue on your clit, letting your hips drag you over it. Faster, closer. You twist his hair between your fingers, holding him down but making him move. 

He moans, stops moving to let you fuck down onto his fingers, and slides over his tongue. It vibrates, and you feel it to your core, nails digging into his scalp and tugging. 

“Fuck. God. Yes, yes,. Fuck.” Molten lava pours over your skin, lighting every nerve on fire, your vision fuzzy. His tongue stays against you, lapping up your orgasm making you twitch and whine. 

When he stops your legs shake, trembling hard enough that Max grabs both your thighs and rubs at the muscle, “That was fucking delicious. Between Blood and your come, I can live fucking forever on fine dining.”

“Dude.” You huff out a laugh. 

Max moves, collecting you in his arms and scooping you up. 

He’s all yours.

“I wanna show you something.” Your head rolls on his shoulder. He has scratch marks on his neck and red pressure marks on his cheeks.

They’ll be gone before morning. Right now, though? He’s all marked up. 

“Is it your dick?” 

He laughs, “Clever.” 

He parts two curtains and opens a door. 

“It’s a balcony!” You’re shaky when he lets you down tremors, making it hard to stand. You grab onto the railing, gripping tight. Max steps up behind you, holding you closer, sliding his hands up your shirt, and over your chest until your shirt is over your head. 

The stars are dim, light pollution clouding the sky, but they’re still there.  

Shining.

It’s dark enough that you can’t make out the side of the building you’re facing. 

Max’s cock nudges against your ass. You moan. Leaning against the railing, Max pulls your hips out and hums as he reaches down and slides your slick around. His fingers slide inside, once, twice before back to your bottom. He uses one hand to spread your cheeks and the other to brush over your hole. 

A shiver snakes down your spine.

“Later,” He dips his thumb in. It’s small, hardly any pressure, but it’s enough to have you whining, pushing back for more. His thumb slides in further before he pulls it out. “Later, you’re going to fuck me over the couch. Now? Let me hear you.” 

You get a warning of his fingers tightening on your hips before his cock nudges inside of you. 

He pulls. 

A sharp cry follows the snap of his hips.

It echoes, a trembling thing.

It makes you think of the scream earlier. Was it from something else? Was someone else being fucked over a railing?

The burning feeling of a cock fucking impaling them? Do they also have a hand holding them up while the other crawls up their back to slide into their hair? 

“Please.” You can feel your knees giving it. Your feet slide every time he drives forward. Your stomach scrapes the railing, digging into your skin, and you can feel the rough metal scratching you.

“I could bite you,” Max says steadily. Not even faking being out of breath, “That’s what you want, right? Why you keep coming back to you?” He slows down enough to knock your feet out of the way, making you collapse in his arms. Then he speeds up, using your hips to pull you out further. Your fingers are tight around the railing, scrabbling for a surface to hold on to. 

“Say it.” 

“Max.”

He growls and pulls once more. Your fingers pull away with burning scrapes. It brings tears to your eyes, but Max lifts. Pulls you off the ground. The move makes you dizzy, his arm wrapped tight around your chest while the other holds you up. Your feet barely touch the ground when you’re being pulled again. The screen door shakes when he pushes you against it. 

“Say it.” His pace is brutal. Every snap knocks you into the glass, pressing your face closer until sweat slides you across the surface. Max tilts your hips at an angle, buries his face in your neck, and slams you back onto his cock.

“Max.” Your voice slurs. You’re not sure you can remember words. All you can think about is the pain in your stomach. How your hands throb, curling them into fists. The tight coils in your groin burn.

It’s not the same molten lava.

No. This is electric. This feels like lightning under your skin. Your nipple catches on the glass. It’s a prickling feeling, trickling down your chest to boil in your core.

“Come on, Baby,” He nips your ear, “I can fucking feel you. Say it.”

The pressure builds. 

“Fuck.” You reach back, grab his hair, and yank his head back. “Fucking bite me.” His fangs flash before they’re buried into your shoulder, Max’s hips thrusting hard enough to make the whole door shake. 

Once, he bites harder. Twice, he grabs at your chest, Three times, he lets go crying out, a loud growling thing that comes from his chest. Your breath is gone, torn from your lungs, your limbs heavy, and your mind a fuzzy mess. 

He catches you as you go pliant, holding you to him as he eases you both to the ground. 

“No matter how many times you do that,” He hums, his cock sliding free when you turn around to climb onto his lap. You kiss him, licking your blood from his mouth, tasting the copper between his teeth. Your tongue catches on a fang, “It makes me not hate you.”

“Hmm,” He nips your tongue, “That’s the point.”

[flyingwargle]

sunaosa week day 7: past / future

suna stands in the center of his living room, hands on his hips, surrounded by boxes. after a long and successful volleyball career, it’s time for him to hang up his court shoes, fold the compression sleeves, and frame the jerseys. his retirement press conference went without a hitch, and so did his farewell party with ejp. all that’s left is to pack up his apartment, and move everything to his new home with his husband in hyogo.

it's the start of a new chapter.

osamu is in the kitchen, carefully wrapping the glassware in newspaper and old copies of volleyball monthly. he straightens to stretch his back, suna watching out of the corner of his eye. “everything good over there?” he asks.

“yeah. where are ya gonna donate these?”

“probably the nearby restaurants. “i’ll bring the cups to ejp.” they were always short on coffee mugs in the lounge, and most of his are in good condition. “washio said he’ll take the pots and pans, komori will take the air fryer, and nagito wants the blender.” osamu insisted they’ll buy everything new for their kitchen, which is why most of it is being pawned off.

“i put the pots’n’pans in a box fer him. he can just take it whenever.”

suna nods, then surveys the living room. they’re taking his tv, but donating the coffee table, couch, porch chairs, and shelves. the books and pictures are already packed, accolades safely wrapped and sealed. the bathroom is packed too, towels tossed with his clothes, toiletries spent. all that’s left is his bedroom.

it’s surprisingly cluttered, despite how little he brought with him. leading up to his retirement, he donated most of his training gear, along with clothes that no longer fit. he prepares a box and starts going through his desk drawers, filled with old receipts, invoices, contracts, and documents. osamu joins him, recycling bin in hand. “thought ya might need this.”

“thanks.” suna inspects each piece of paper before tossing it, just in case. osamu continues to pack the clothes in another box, an effort that suna abandoned halfway for a change of pace. they work quietly, until–

“hey, rin. look at this.”

suna turns around. osamu has a wrinkled envelope in hand, his name addressed on the front. it’s sealed shut, so he fetches a pair of scissors from the kitchen to slice it open. “did ya write me a love letter at one point?”

“actually…”

inside are three folded pieces of paper. osamu stares at the first page – specifically, the date. “ya wrote this…five years ago?”

he nods, joining him on the floor. “yeah.”

“were ya gonna send it ta me, or…”

“i was, but…well, you know what happened.” although many of their friends call them high school sweethearts, they broke up when they were 21, were exes for three years, and then got back together on new year’s on the cusp of the fourth. the reasons for their separation sound amateurish now – they couldn’t handle the distance, they were chasing parallel dreams, they couldn’t, didn’t, wouldn’t make time for each other.

while they were separated, osamu opened three more onigiri miya locations; suna played in the olympics and overseas. osamu won awards for his food and service; suna became sponsored by top brands and corporations. osamu starred in documentaries and television shows; suna was featured in interviews and press conferences.

when they met again during the new year’s party organized by inarizaki alumni, both agreed that it made sense to try again, now that they were older, smarter, better. it led to an engagement. it led to marriage. it led to this.

a life together, walking down a singular path.

“i was in chicago, i think. i felt homesick after eating at a japanese restaurant because their onigiri…reminded me of you.” suna’s arm snakes around osamu’s waist, resting his head on his shoulder to read his own writing, shaky kanji after years of writing mostly english. “i missed you, but i couldn’t tell you, so i…wrote you a letter.”

he remembers that night vividly. his teammates took him there for his birthday, where all the dishes were recipes passed down through the owner’s family. as he ate, all he could think about was home, but what came to mind wasn’t aichi, hyogo, nor shizuoka. instead, it was osamu.

osamu, who would video call him for hours while working in the kitchen. osamu, who would reply to his memes or shitposts with equally cursed content. osamu, who would sleep shirtless so he could absorb suna’s body heat, even in the middle of winter.

when home is a person that you can’t have, what does home become?

osamu flips to the second page. the kanji is messier, strokes uneven, with increasing amounts of hiragana to substitute the characters that suna couldn’t remember how to write. he is quiet, eyes traveling across the lines, pensive. then, he reaches the last page, which only contains a few lines.

when i’m with you, i feel timeless, because my love for you is infinite, no matter the distance or time. i used to fear what the life without volleyball would look like, but i’m not afraid anymore, because i know that it’ll always be with you.

“rin.” a hand finds his, the slim silver band digging into his skin. suna looks into osamu’s eyes, the same as he did on their wedding day, and sees nothing but love in its depths, an endless pool constructed of memories between them, from the first day they met at inarizaki, to now, sitting on his floor among boxes, packing a past to bring into the future.

“i never told ya, but in all those years…i never stopped lovin’ ya, either.” his voice rumbles deep and tight, the telltale sign that he’s holding back tears. “i knew why we had ta do it, but…if i were more selfish, i woulda asked ta keep tryin’, an’ tryin’, an tryin’. yer worth all my effort.”

“i wish we were both more selfish,” suna murmurs. “but look. we made it.” he puts their hands together, matching bands gleaming in the light. “you’re a successful business owner. i had the best volleyball run of my life. and now, we have each other. we’ll always have each other.”

the letter falls as they kiss, enveloped in one another’s warmth. there is one part of the writing where the ink is smudged, paper slightly wrinkled, relics of tears shed for a lost love, now a witness to a love that is eternal, that will light their way through the unknown, that will guide them to a new life.

together.

[carefulignorantghost]

We Meet Again

You realize you’re pregnant, but only after you and Alex have broken up. 6 years pass and you’re looking for a house cleaning job and Alex becomes your boss unknowingly.

Warnings: breakup and pregnancy discussions

You stared at the pregnancy test. It read positive.

You had symptoms such as a missed period and nausea, but you didn’t think you were pregnant. You had always been careful with Alex; he always used condoms. But you broke up a few weeks ago.

“Y/N, how the fuck do you think I feel? I don’t want to do this, but I just don’t love you anymore.” Alex said frustrated, with his hands in the air. “I don’t love you anymore!” He yelled. “I’ve moved on from you, Y/N! I want something casual; I don’t want a relationship anymore.”

You just stared at him in shock. You had been together for 3 and a half years; since you were both 14. Yes, he was acting distant, but you thought he was just stressed.

“When did you fall out of love?” You asked him, stepping forward.

“It’s been a few months. How did you not notice?” Alex said coldly.

You looked away from him. “I thought you were stressed, Al.”

“Well, you were wrong, Y/N.” He looked down at you.

“I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to come off as the clingy girlfriend who worries about everything!” You yelled.

“You already were the clingy girlfriend. And now I want to be able to have fun without you clinging onto me.”

Alex walked out the door.

And here you were; staring at the pregnancy test, unable to look at anything else.

What was gonna happen now? What were you gonna tell your parents?

You weren’t going to tell Alex. You figured he wouldn’t care.

***

Your parents were upset when you told them.

“How could you be so careless, Y/N?!” Your mom yelled, standing up from her seat. Your dad sat beside her, still in shock.

“Mom, I swear we were careful! Condoms don’t always work!” You said exasperated.

“Well, obviously! You’re fucking pregnant, Y/N!” Your mom said.

***

Your mom came in your room later that night.

“Honey, it’s ok if you choose to keep the baby.” She sat down on the bed and reached to hold your hand.

“But what about university?” You questioned.

“We’ll figure it out. It’s ok. You’re gonna be ok.” She hugged you.

6 years later.

You had moved to Los Angeles to focus on modeling. You worked two other jobs to support you and your daughter. But you weren’t getting booked and your modeling agency fired you.

Your daughter, Lila, was asleep and you were on your computer, looking at house cleaning jobs. You were laid off a couple days ago and desperately needed a job.

You saw a really high offer local to LA.

You clicked on it.

“I need someone who can clean my house and run errands for me. You can move into the guest bedroom if you’d like. Will pay $200 per day. No extra water and electricity fees.”

You immediately messaged the person.

“Hey, I’d love to work for you. I have a 6 year old daughter and would need to move in. Would that be okay?” You sent the message and waited for a response.

The person replied almost immediately.

“No problem at all. My name’s Al, by the way. The address is ——. Are you able to move in next week?”

“Yes, I am.” You responded.

***

You had just dropped off your daughter at school. You stood outside Al’s place with your luggage. He lived in a mansion in North Hollywood. The mansion was a modern style with sharp angles and lines. It looked about three stories tall, and had a huge balcony.

You walked up the pathway to the front door and rang the doorbell.

You heard the door unlock and open.

You were greeted by a familiar face.

Alex.

You stared at each other, making sure this was actually happening.

Alex looked just the same but brand new to you. His hair was gelled into a quiff and his features were even more angular. Alex wore a black leather jacket and tight jeans.

“Wow, erm- I-“ Alex began.

“How are you?” You asked, trying to stay calm. Seeing him brought up so many feelings and questions. You thought you had gotten over him, but the hurt he caused just settled into your bones.

“Come in, come in.” Alex said ignoring your question but motioning for you to come inside. He lead you to the living room before sitting on the couch. You sat on the chair opposite him.

“God, Y/N. It’s been fucking forever. How are you?” Alex said worriedly.

“Umm… There’s a lot that’s happened. I worked as a model for many years up until recently. Brands weren’t booking me, so my agency fired me.” You paused. “That was a week and a half ago. And now here I am.” You explained. It was difficult for you to talk about what you had previously thought Alex would be with you for.

“Oh my God, Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Alex furrowed his brow.

“And how have you been, Al?” You asked. How did it come to this?

“Life’s been going pretty well. The Monkeys and I have been releasing albums and going on tours. We’re actually working on our fifth album.” He said shyly.

“I’m really happy for you, Alex.” You said genuinely. But you wondered what your life would’ve looked like if you were still together.

“Thank you.” He smiled at you before pausing.

He then asked cautiously, “And you have a 6 year old daughter? When did that happen? I never saw you with another guy…”

You didn’t speak for a few moments. “Alex, put the timeline together.” You crossed your arms nervously.

Alex thought for a few seconds before he figured it out.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Y/N?” He looked hurt.

“We didn’t exactly end on the best terms, Al. And you wanted to have the typical college experience and I get that. I really do.” You recalled his words.

“And I didn’t want to burden you by telling you I’m pregnant with your baby.” You said bluntly.

[corner-stories]

anywhere you go, let me go, too

Serena. Calem. Lumiose City. Hugs. Engagements. 861 words. (ao3.)

Lumiose City feels the same — the sun of the sky on her skin, the feeling of cobblestones under her shoes, and the sound of Kalosians living their best lives.

With a grin on her face, Serena feels nothing but bliss as she makes her way down South Boulevard. While she goes, her Sylveon happily follows at her feet. 

She takes in the sights of the city, ranging from locals enjoying espresso and croissants cafe tables, lovers walking down the street hand-in-hand, or children playing with their Pokemon on the pavement. Every time she glances over, it feels like the first time. 

It’s strange that the region that has been her home for the last ten years still finds a way to seem brand new.

When Serena arrives at the beige and green building, her smile gets just a bit wider. It seems that by the grace of Arceus, the exact person she’s looking for is the exact person stepping out. 

Calem is looking like his usual self — tall, dark-haired, and absolutely exuding a sense of boyish prettiness. It’s hard to believe that he’s already in the middle of his twenties.

Then again, Serena knows that people probably think the same thing about her. 

The second Calem sets eyes on her, the usual humorless expression on his face softens into a look of relief. He pulls on his jacket just as he hops down the stairs and almost jogs towards her. 

“Hope I didn’t keep you waiting,” says Serena as she approaches her fiancé . 

Without thinking, she spreads her arms wide and pulls him into a hug. As always, Calem embraces her and rests his face in the crook of her neck. 

“Not in the slightest,” he responds. The sound of his voice tickles her skin. 

She feels his warmth as his arms wrap around her waist and hold her tight. For a brief moment she feels him lifting her up, then spinning her around exactly three times. 

Once he puts her down the first thing Serena sees is the smile on his beautiful face. She leans forward and presses a kiss to his lips. It’s brief and over in half a second, yet it brings her the sweetest kind of comfort. 

With her arms grasping his shoulders, Calem reaches up and places his hands on her face. Like the rest of him, his palms are warm. 

But before anything else can happen, Serena feels something pawing at her legs. When she and Calem look down they are greeted to the sight of her Sylveon swiping at the hems of her trench coat. 

“Still jealous, aren’t you?” asked Calem, grinning playfully at the pink little thing. 

Serena lets out a chuckle as she leans down and pats her Sylveon on the head, assuring the creature that no, her love for this “fiancé” of hers will not in any way detract from her love for her team. 

Once all is said and done, Serena takes Calem’s hand as the two begin to walk down the Lumiose streets. Sylveon trails behind them. 

Years ago, Serena was walking these very streets with a Pokemon from Sycamore, an anxious knot in her stomach, and her humourless, often frowny next-door neighbour by her side.

Now she’s here, walking down the streets with her fiancé, a vastly better grasp on the French language, and wedding plans on her mind. 

“So… the reservation’s at six, but we can arrive fashionably late,” Serena explains as they go, referencing the dinner plans they had made last week. 

“And oh! I got a reply back from the location!” she adds on. “If we’re lucky, then we can book Shalour in May. Sounds good to you?”

Calem nods along. For the last few months, he’s made it clear to her that it doesn’t matter to him whether they get married at the Tower of Mastery, under the windmill in Dendemille town, or in her mother’s backyard. What matters to him is that they’re together. 

Anywhere she goes, he’ll go too. 

“It’s fine by me, Neighbour,” Calem says, squeezing her hand tight. 

As they turn a corner on the street, Serena looks at him with an eyebrow raised. 

“Neighbour?” she speaks in disbelief, then a playful grin comes upon her face. “You haven’t called me that in years.”

There’s a brief moment where Calem — at the tender age of twenty-seven — looks about to blush. Perhaps his old nickname for her had brought up something in him that he had not felt for a long time. 

“I know, I was just feeling…” Calem starts, then spends a moment thinking. “...nostalgic, and thought I’d try bringing that back.” 

The cheeky smile on Serena’s beautiful face persists as she lets out a hum. He’s speaking like they don’t spend each day, each night, and each morning together — like he hadn’t made a home with her inside a North Boulevard loft. 

“And how’s that working out for you?” asks Serena, eyeing him teasingly. 

Calem shrugs before gently tugging her close to him. He puts an arm around her and places a kiss on her cheek. His voice is husky as he replies —

“I’ll tell you a bit later.”

[rondo-of-blog]

Holy Seven Subscriptions, Batman!

So I’ve been reading a lot of comics lately. Like, a lot of comics. I’ve been going out on a limb, and honestly? It’s paid off! Yes, I’ve gotten to read solid comic book storytelling recently - and lots of it. And what do I have to show for it?

Seven different subscriptions to DC comics series, and one to a Marvel comic series. :’)

[Spoilers for various comics! If you see the title of a book you don’t wanna get spoiled on, leave!]

If you’ve been following me for the past several months, you’ve probably heard me rave about the current ongoing Catwoman comic series as it’s been written by Tini Howard. You’ve probably also heard me blab about the latest Harley Quinn series since Tini Howard took it over. Both comics are absolute delights that I’ve had a blast with, but that I’ve also talked at length about, so… won’t be going into that. Not this time, at least.

And that includes you, Betsy Braddock: Captain Britain, also written by Tini Howard!

So what does that leave us? Well, why don’t we start with Batman! Written by Chip Zdarsky. At this point I really should start expecting it, but I keep being surprised by just how dang much I’m enjoying myself with this series! It’s got action, it’s got Batman coming down from the Moon to land back on Earth, it’s got it all!

With stories as convoluted as the series has been telling, I really would’ve thought it all would’ve come unraveled several issues ago—after all, how the hell could a story take Batman to the Moon, back to Earth, into another damn dimension, rapidly jumping through several damn dimensions, and then back to whatever we call main Earth??? By doing it all very well, apparently!

Next we have Poison Ivy, which I read on the glowing recommendation of my partner in life and in love, Cluster! I spent weeks telling them I’d get around to reading it eventually, then one day this past week I went and read all 13 issues that’re out right now. And what’s there to say about them? Well…

They’re great! They’re all fucking great! I’ve never blown through 13 issues so quickly, but G. Willow Wilson had such an impressive story to tell that I couldn’t stop for anything. Pamela’s great in it, so is Harley when she eventually shows up, and so is… Batman! Didn’t know he’d be part of this series, but it works!

G. Willow Wilson is another writer, like Tini Howard, where whenever I see her write a character I just want to see her write them all the time. I dunno, if perhaps they could just hand the keys to the whole damn DC Universe to these gals I think we’d be onto something!

Besides that, Cluster and I finally said “what the hell” and read through all 9 issues that’re currently out of The Joker: The Man Who Stopped Laughing. The verdict?

It made us laugh~

To be more specific, Matthew Rosenberg does an excellent job of making a hilarious and entertaining Joker comic series that features a metric fuck-ton of Joker in it. There’s so much of The Joker, there’s actually two men called The Joker in it!… Or three. Well, the third one was impersonating the first one. Or is it the second one?

It’s these sorts of questions that any Joker series worth its seltzer would have readers asking! I’m really glad we’ve taken a chance on this series, after spending months joking about its very silly title that doesn’t seem to actually tie into the story itself so far. We’ll see if there’s any further developments on that front later!

Last month and this month, however, I started on two brand new limited series! Limited series that I wish were ongoing series, and that I hope end up becoming ongoing series when they hopefully do ridiculously-well! I am of course referring to the latest volume of Cyborg, and Steelworks!

For Cyborg, I’m really interested to see where it goes. Morgan Hampton made known his intentions of taking Vic in a direction we’ve not seen before, ahead of issue #1’s release, and the sudden death of Vic’s father Silas proved he meant it.

While Silas died very early on in the original continuity Vic lived in, his presence after the New 52 reboot was used to great effect in David F. Walker’s Cyborg issues. Lots of work was done expanding on their fraught relationship, but it looks like we’ve closed the book on that before it could reach a happy ending… or have we???

There’s a lot to take in, a brief appearance from the Titans that made my heart swell, and overall I felt like the first issue set us up nicely for a damn good story—one that, again, I’d love to see turn into an ongoing series, but we can’t have everything all the time.

Steelworks had another strong beginning with issue #1, which came out… this month! I’d been anticipating it since its initial announcement, and Michael Dorn did not disappoint in the writing department. I’d also like to give a special shoutout to Sami Basri and Andrew Dalhouse for their contributions in the art department (line art and coloring, respectively)!

It’s not every day I get to read a comic that just looks as good as comics used to back when I was taking good comic art for granted, but Steelworks #1 is a damn good-looking comic! With art this solid, there’s nothing interrupting me from getting sucked into the story - and damn if this isn’t the beginning of a story that immediately grabbed me!

Something that’s easy to take for granted, but that not every comic manages to pull off, is telling a story that wins you over on its ideas. Maybe this is just me being picky, but I’ve read a comic or two in the past year that’ve gone really hard on the moral core of a story that I just… really can’t relate to. You’d think superhero comics wouldn’t have such a hard time being relatable to someone who doesn’t want people to spend the rest of their natural lives rotting in prison or whatnot, but you’d be surprised.

Steelworks #1 starts with a bang. With ideas that’re bold, and probably outside the realm of what people usually look for in a superhero comic, but that I can honestly sympathize with. No one comes off as a two-dimensional cardboard cutout, everyone feels real and able to be connected with at least on some level.

It’s a limited series, but if it does well enough? Who knows what could happen. In this case, I don’t know that they could’ve gotten Michael Dorn for longer than just a limited series’ run, so there are benefits to the format!

So yeah. That’s now seven subscriptions to DC comics series, to only one that Marvel’s been able to put out.

Does DC know it doesn’t have to be winning so hard at comics? It would’ve been fine if they were just putting out a couple good series here and there, which I thought they were before I gave these other series a try. Turns out, they’re really putting out some quality shit!

And I still have Superman: The Last Days of Lex Luthor to start picking up next month! Geez!

I’m a very happy camper when it comes to comics, nowadays. Right now, I only have one comic series I pick up every month that routinely and utterly disappoints me. I may end up writing about it on this blog, in lieu of tweeting, what with how its fanbase just loves to tank my mental health with threats & harassment!

Until next time!

---

By the way, you can now read the blog on my website, at https://feliciarondo.com/rondo-of-blog. Check it out! :)

[crabs-but-better]

every time i’ve sat down to write a memoir of some sort i can’t because it’s just So Much. I do have a few stories in mind tho that i would definitely include (this post is mostly for me to come back to at some point) but uh. if you’re interested in my over sharing specifically on the topic of overly verse-like reflections detailing the journey i took to get to where i am now then read under the cut i guess (tw suicidal ideation)

“I haven’t seen my own chest in over two years. The mirror in my room has a towel over it and the bathroom fan stays in a permanent state of disuse in hopes that the steam will cover the body I don’t dare look at.”

“In third grade, I don’t recall if it was through an article or the news or an offhand comment from my parents, I learned of the existence of some sort of surgery to make you a boy. The next day, I -not even knowing the words that described me- proudly told my classmates that I planned on getting those surgeries. For some reason, the looks I got from nine year olds who we are supposed to be ‘protecting’ from ‘this kind of stuff’ lent me kinder and more understanding looks than my own therapist.”

“My school concert in 5th grade was one of the best I ever had. I showed up wearing a white button down and black jeans, proudly sporting my late grandfather’s favorite tie. When Tyler asked me if I wanted to be a boy, I said, without hesitation, “Yes!” and didn’t hear a single thing after that. They didn’t know that just an hour before, I was on the floor groveling, begging for my parents to let me wear this instead of the sparkly dress we had picked out a week ago.”

“Through some feat of repression, after three years of proudly declaring I was a boy, I simply forgot. I forgot about the surgeries and I forgot about Tyler and I forgot about grandpa’s tie and I lived a middle school life as daddy’s little girl, mommy’s perfect straight A student. I wore those tight striped sweaters and put my hair up in flannel colored scrunchies and wore whatever necklaces were trending at the time. Somehow, none of it felt wrong. Until it did. When I started skipping homework and paragraphs in my favorite book, I cried. It was all wrong. And nobody told me. Nobody told me that I shouldn’t have thrown away my favorite cargo shorts. Nobody let me know that listening to sad songs when you’re sad is a bad idea. Nobody held my hand as I begged myself to put the notebook away and stop writing my will. Nobody noticed when I went to bed six hours early hoping that when I woke up, if I woke up, everything would be right again. I’m sure everyone, instead, was breathing a sigh of relief. A, “thank god that phase is over and my daughter is normal again” prayer. The world was upside down and backwards and somehow I still hadn’t remembered who I was.”

“I don’t think some people realize how freeing it is to finally have an answer to a burning question. My uncertainty sat like bile in my throat. It burnt through my skin, branding me as an outcast. They looked at me, curled up in the corner of the library with whichever book happened to whisk me away from everything, they all looked at me with a revolting pity in their eyes. My forehead read “queer” but the problem was I never looked in the mirror. So when two little non-binary kids joined me in my little corner of despair, they brought with them, cradled in their words of encouragement, my answer. The word hurt at first, like when you finally spit out something you were choking on and it leaves behind the sorest of throats. But eventually it washed over me, soothing my burns down to the very core. There it was, at last. “Transgender”

“Of course, it took a few years for me to grow into it. First it was agender, then it was demigirl, then it was non-binary, then genderfluid, but eventually I hit the nail on the head. I’ve found that umbrella labels are the most freeing, I’m allowed to move within and change over time.

I remember a game I used to play all the time. It was called “Pikmin Adventures”, I believe. It came with the WiiU. They were relatively short levels, but the soundtrack intrigued me. All J remember is that once you reached the end of a level, the once dark and stressful score ended off with a dispersing of all that energy. Cymbals gently crashed and led way for a calm piano melody. I breathed a sigh of relief every time I heard it. After a level, when the little Pikman climbed triumphantly into the spaceship, I always felt a sense of accomplishment. That’s how I feel now. There’s the calming melody in the background and I’m climbing triumphantly into my metaphoric spaceship. I breathe a sigh of relief. I survived the level. I made it through. I’m blasting off! And I know, inevitably, I’ll come to the next level. But just like those funky little Pikman, I’ll make it to the end, I’ll hear those cymbals crash again, and everything will be okay.”

[i-care-4u]

UN VERANO SIN TI | J.HARLOW

part one | part two | part three

pair: jack harlow x actress!reader

requests are closed | masterlist

A/N: i’ve been doing instagram au’s recently, and i haven’t written these types of fics in like a year, so it feels so refreshing writing them again. btw, apologies if there’s any grammar mistakes or any typos.

‘17-‘20

For the past five years, you’ve pretty much made yourself a big name in the entertainment industry. Since your debut, critics and the people were quickly mesmerized by your talent, which later contributed to your nominations at big award ceremonies.

While filming your second project four years ago, you discovered Jack and his music. However, it wasn’t until a year later when you first met him.

Jack was starstruck the moment he saw you. He couldn’t believe that one of today’s leading actresses is a big fan of his. Around this time, he was recording a new mixtape. You still remembered the conversation that occurred, which was now an ongoing joke between you and him.

“Hi, I’m Jack,” Jack introduced himself as you came up to him to give him a hand shake.

“I know,” you replied, letting out a soft laugh.

After the interaction, you exchanged numbers, and began hanging out together.

By early 2020, you and Jack started dating. Since Jack wanted more of a private life, you both agreed to keep the relationship that way, with the exception of close family and friends. However, due to one of his songs becoming popular, it pushed him to a more mainstream audience. Although you and Jack were celebrating for reaching such achievements, unfortunately, you both knew that going out together was going to be such a conflict.

‘22

With your upcoming project being the most anticipated film of the year, and Jack releasing his new album, it was going to be quite a year for you two.

You and Jack barely had the time to see each other, and the only interactions came through the phone. You didn’t like that feeling. The feeling that you were dating your own screen just felt weird to you. The next time you were going to see him again was during the MET Gala, which happens to be the same week Jack releases his album.

By that point, you had the thought to end things with Jack. It was an upsetting thought, but both of you were booked and busy if you really think about it. You were busy with your film, which was set for a summer release, and there’s also an upcoming press tour alongside it. Meanwhile, Jack had upcoming performances left and right, traveling from France to Australia. As much as it hurts to let go of someone, you believed that now was the right time.

MET GALA ‘22, MAY 2nd, 2022

You arrived to New York City a couple of days ago, which was nothing new for you. Tonight was going to be your first MET since 2019, and your first with Jack.

At the hotel, your stylist picked out a dress from (brand choice), while you were in charge of doing your own makeup. Considering the way people were dressed last year, you’d say that your team did a great job on their research and finding a dress that represented “gilded glamour.”

Before putting on the dress, you heard a knock on the door. You opened the door to see that it was Jack. He was already red carpet ready and he wanted your opinion of his look. He showed up wearing a silky brown suit from Givenchy, a little different from the regular tuxedos that a lot of men tend to wear at the MET.

“How do I look, baby?” Jack asked you as he was fixing up his tie.

“You look amazing, Jack,” you smiled, fixing the outfit for him.

“I knew I could rely on you,” Jack said, quickly giving you a kiss on the forehead before he closed the door.

After a few hours, you arrived at the MET Gala. Your appearance was the most anticipated tonight, based on past looks. It was exciting to see what you were going to wear next. Like every award ceremony, there’s cameras flashing, people cheering from all angles, and of course, the interviews.

“Y/N LOOK OVER HERE!”

“SMILE Y/N!”

“Y/N TURN AROUND!”

“I LOVE YOU Y/N!”

Everyone was obsessed with your MET look. You were the highlight of the night, earning the title of “best-dressed” alongside other celebrities.

Following the pictures taken on the MET stairs, you went to their dinner party, where you got greeted by Jack.

You and Jack went towards the food table. The food looked quite exquisite, having a Sofia Coppola feel to it. Jack grabbed a plate and asked, “You want something to eat or drink?”

“Not at this moment,” you nodded. “Thank you, though.” Before Jack put the plate back, he asked you again, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll eat once the MET is over.”

You weren’t upset, but rather overwhelmed. The next thing you wanted to do was to leave the dinner, and stay at the hotel, but you just couldn’t. Instead, you rushed to the bathroom, which you quickly regretted.

By the time you opened the door, there was a group of celebrities attempting to take the MET Gala picture. Instantly, all eyes were on you, “Y/n, care to join us?”

Giving them an awkward smile, you tried to fit into the frame. For the next ten seconds, everyone was fixing their outfits and thinking of a pose. By the last second, one of the celebrities announced that they were taking the picture, “MET Gala ‘22, everybody say cheese!”

After the picture, you headed back to dinner where you sat in the empty seat next to Jack’s.

“Having fun?” you looked over to Jack.

“Yeah, I’m getting a little tired though. Are you tired yet?”

“Sort of,” You had a monotone voice, showing no emotion whatsoever.

“Let me take you outside for some fresh air, no?” Jack held your hand, but you refused, thinking about your private relationship with him. “Jack, we can’t. Remember?”

“Right.”

“Speaking of going out, I don’t think I want to attend that afterparty anymore.”

“That’s fine,” Jack kissed your cheek as you got out of your seat. “Do what you need to do, okay babe?”

“Okay. See you tomorrow morning.”

TUESDAY, MAY 3rd, 2022

The next morning, as you were getting ready, you received some text messages from Jack.

Jack: are you in your hotel room right now?

Jack: let’s talk

You: i’m here

You turned off your phone and continued getting ready. After doing some final touches to your makeup, you decided to order some tea for you and Jack.

"Room service. How may I help you?”

"Uhm, yeah. May I have two hot teas?"

"Which one?" You didn’t specify what kind prior, but you knew that Jack loves the hottest kind of tea.

"The hottest one. Just any of the—"

"You want black or green tea?"

"Green for both, please. Thank you. "

While you were waiting for your orders, someone knocked on the door. "It’s Jack," you thought.

You opened the door, and it was no surprise that it was him. As he walked into your room, he couldn’t resist giving you a hug. You missed that feeling, that rare feeling. You knew, however, that you and he weren’t destined to be together for this long.

"How’s my baby feeling today?" Jack asked you.

"Better than yesterday," you assured. "And by the way, I ordered some tea, which should be here any minute now."

"Very generous of you," Jack said sarcastically. He was glad to see you doing better and getting the rest that you needed after yesterday. However, it wasn’t the case for you. Instead, you felt nervous about having this talk, scared that you were going to slip up really badly.

"What if he doesn’t want to see me ever again?" you thought. The only goal here was for you and Jack to be cool as just friends.

You two walked together and found a seat at the empty table that was in the room. You relax for a few seconds, hoping that everything goes as planned. Afterwards, you began to talk to him.

"I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, but I think it’d be cool if we stayed as just friends," you began. "I feel like we’d become so distant this past year to the point where I’m just dating my own screen, you know?"

Jack got up from his seat, and you tried to question him, feeling startled that he was leaving immediately. Luckily, he opened the door and grabbed the two teas that you ordered earlier. He placed your tea on the table while he began to take a sip of his tea, "Sorry, the tea arrived. Go on, Y/n.”

You continued, "We’re literally at our prime right now, and I’m really proud of what you achieved. I truly am. I just don’t think that I’m the right person for you anymore.”

Silence, but not the awkward kind. Jack respected your decision. "I get it, our schedules can get packed like right now. Either way, I’d still be proud of you for what you've done to your fans and to my music as well. Thank yo-“

You interrupted him, "Jack, this is not a farewell."

"I still mean everything that I said earlier. I’m so glad that I met you, Y/n.”

“Thank you, and thank you for understanding where I’m coming from, Jack.”

-

After two years of dating, you and Jack officially broke up. It went smoothly like you planned, and you are now friends with Jack.

Things were going to be different, of course. Looking at the schedules, it was going to be a long year, starting with summer. It begins, a summer without Jack, a summer without you.

[blackcatrph]

** sour  sentence  starters.

brutal.

“  i think that i’ll die before i drink.  ”

“  i'm so caught up in the news of who likes me and who hates you.  ”

“  i'm so tired that I might quit my job, start a new life.  ”

“  they'd all be so disappointed  because who am I if not exploited?  ”

“  where's my fuckin' teenage dream?  ”

“  if someone tells me one more time "enjoy your youth," I'm gonna cry.  ”

“  i'm anxious and nothing can help.  ”

“  i wish I'd done this before.  ”

“  i wish people liked me more.  ”

“  all I did was try my best.  ”

“  this the kind of thanks I get?  ”

“  they say these are the golden years.  ”

“  i wish I could disappear.  ”

“  god, it's brutal out here.  ”

“  i feel like no one wants me.  ”

“  i only have two real friends.  ”

“  lately I'm a nervous wreck.  ”

“  i love people I don't like.  ”

“  i hate every song I write.  ”

“  i'm not cool, and I'm not smart.  ”

“  i can't even parallel park.  ”

“  got a broken ego, broken heart.  ”

“  i don't even know where to start.  ”

traitor.

“  brown guilty eyes and little white lies.  ”

“  i played dumb but I always knew.  ”

“  i kept quiet so I could keep you.  ”

“  ain't it funny how you ran to her the second that we called it quits?  ”

“  ain't it funny how you said you were friends?  ”

“  it sure as hell don't look like it.  ”

“  you betrayed me.  ”

“  i know that you'll never feel sorry for the way I hurt.  ”

“  loved you at your worst but that didn't matter.  ”

“  guess you didn't cheat, but you're still a traitor.  ”

“  there's no damn way that you could fall in love with somebody that quickly.  ”

“  ain't it funny, all the twisted games, all the questions you used to avoid?  ”

“  remember I brought her up and you told me I was paranoid?  ”

“  i wish that you had thought this through before I went and fell in love with you.  ”

“  you gave me your word but that didn't matter.  ”

drivers  license. 

“  i got my driver's license last week.  ”

“  just like we always talked about.  ”

“  today I drove through the suburbs crying 'cause you weren't around.  ”

“  you're probably with that blonde girl.  ”

“  she's so much older than me.  ” 

“  she's everything I'm insecure about.  ”

“  how could I ever love someone else?   “

“  i know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one.  ”

“  i just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone.  ”

“  guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me.  ”

“  all my friends are tired of hearing how much I miss you.  ”

“  I kinda feel sorry for them because they'll never know you the way that I do.  ”

“  i still see your face in the white cars, front yards.  ”

“  can't drive past the places we used to go to because I still fuckin' love you.  ”

1  step  forward,  3  steps  back.

“  i called you on the phone today.  ”

“  all I did was speak normally.  ”

“  you got me fucked up in the head.  ”

“  like am I pretty? am I fun?  ”

“  i hate that I gave you power over that kind of stuff.  ”

“  it's always one step forward and three steps back.  ”

“  i'm the love of your life until I make you mad.  ”

“  do you love me, want me, hate me? i don't understand.  ”

“  maybe in some masochistic way I kind of find it all exciting.  ”

“  which lover will I get today?  ”

“  will you walk me to the door or send me home cryin'?  ”

���  it's back and forth, did I say somethin' wrong?  ”

“  it's back and forth, goin' over everything I said.  ”

“  i'd leave you, but the roller coaster's all I've ever had.  ”

deja vu.

“  strawberry ice cream, one spoon for two?  ”

“  i bet she's braggin' to all her friends, sayin' you're so unique.  ”

“  so when you gonna tell her that we did that, too?  ”

“  that was our place, I found it first.  ”

“  i made the jokes you tell to her when she's with you.  ”

“  do you get déjà vu when she's with you?  ”

“  do you call her, almost say my name?  ”

“  i hate to think that I was just your type.  ”

“  don't act like we didn't do that shit too.  ”

“  play her piano, but she doesn't know that I was the one who taught you Billy Joel.  ”

good  4  u.

“  well, good for you, I guess you moved on really easily.  ”

“  you found a new girl and it only took a couple weeks.  ”

“  remember when you said that you wanted to give me the world?  ”

“  good for you, I guess that you've been workin' on yourself.  ” 

“  i guess that therapist I found for you, she really helped.  ”

“  now you can be a better man for your brand new girl.  ”

“  well, good for you, you look happy and healthy.  ”

“  not me, if you ever cared to ask.  ”

“  good for you, you're doin' great out there without me.  ”

“  i've lost my mind.  ”

“  i've spent the night cryin' on the floor in my bathroom.  ”

“  it's like we never even happened.  ”

“  what the fuck is up with that?  ”

“  good for you, it's like you never even met me.  ”

“  remember when you swore to god i was the only person who ever got you?  ”

“  well, screw that and screw you.  ”

“  you will never have to hurt the way you know that I do.  ”

“  maybe I'm too emotional.  ”

“  your apathy's like a wound in salt.  ”

“  maybe I'm too emotional  or maybe you never cared at all.  ”

“  like a damn sociopath.  ”

enough  for  you.

“  i wore makeup when we dated because I thought you'd like me more.  ”

“  i know that you loved before.  ”

“  tried so hard to be everything that you like.  ”

“  i read all of your self-help books so you'd think that I was smart.  ”

“  stupid, emotional, obsessive little me.  ”

“  i knew from the start this is exactly how you'd leave.  ”

“  you found someonе more exciting.  ”

“  you left me there cryin', wonderin' what I did wrong.  ”

“  you always say I'm never satisfied but I don't think that's true.  ”

“  all I ever wanted was to be enough for you.  ”

“  maybe I'm just not as interesting as the girls you had before.  ”

“  you couldn't have cared less about someone who loved you more.  ”

“  i'd say you broke my heart but you broke much more than that.  ”

“  i don’t want your sympathy, i just want myself back.  ”

“  don’t you think i loved you too much to be used and discarded?  ”

“  don't you think I loved you too much to think I deserve nothing?  ”

“  don’t tell me you’re sorry, feel sorry for yourself.  ”

“  someday i’ll be everything to somebody else.  ”

“  you’ll be the one crying.  ”

happier.

“  we broke up a month ago. ”

“  your friends are mine you know.  ”

“  you’ve moved on, found someone new.  ”

“  i thought my heart was detached from all the sunlight of our past.  ”

“  she’s so sweet, she’s so pretty.  ”

“  does she mean you forgot about me ?  ”

“  i hope you’re happy but not like how you were with me.  ”

“  i’m selfish i know. i can’t let you go.  ”

“  find someone great, but don’t find no one better.  ”

“  i hope you’re happy, but don’t be happier.  ”

 “  do you tell her she’s the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen?  ”

“  an eternal love bullshit you know you’ll never mean.  ”

“  remember when i believe you meant it when you said it first to me?  ”

“  now i’m picking her apart like cutting her down will make you miss my wretched heart.  ”

“  she’s beautiful, she looks kind.  ”

“  she probably gives you butterflies.  ”

“  i wish you all the best, really.  ”

“  say you love her, just not like you loved me.  ”

“  think of me fondly when your hands are on her.  ”

jealousy  jealousy.

“  i kinda wanna throw my phone across the room.  ”

“  all i see are girls too good to be true.  ”

“  i know their beauty’s not my lack but it feels like that weight is on my back.  ”

“  comparison is killing me slowly.  ”

“  i think i think too much.  ”

“  i’m so sick of myself, i’d rather be anyone else.  ”

“  my jealousy started following me.  ”

“  i see everyone getting all the things i want.  ”

“  i’m happy for them, but then again, i’m not.  ”

“  i can’t stand it.  ” 

“  oh god i sound crazy.  ”

“  their win is not my loss, i know it’s true.  ”

“  i can’t help getting caught up in it all.  ”

“  all your friends are so cool.  ”

“  you go out every night.  ”

“  you’re living the life.  ”

“  i want to be you so bad, and i don’t even know you.  ”

“  all i see is what i should be.  ”

favourite  crime.

“  know that i love you so bad.  ”

“  i let you treat me like that.  ”

“  i was your willing accomplice.  ”

“  i watched as you fled the scene.  ”

“  doe-eyed as you buried me.  ”

“  the things i did just so i could call you mine.  ”

“  the things you did. well, i hope i was your favourite crime.  ”

“  you used me as an alibi.  ”

“  i crossed my heart and you crossed the line.  ”

“  i defended you to all my friends.  ”

“  every time i siren sounds, i wonder if you’re around.  ”

“  you know that i’d do it all again.  ”

“  it’s bittersweet to think about the damage that we’d do.  ”

“  i was going down but i was doing it with you.  ”

“  i say that i hate you with a smile on my face.  ”

“  look what we became.  ” 

hope  ur  ok.

“  his parents cared more about the bible than being good to their own child.  ”

“  wore long sleeves because of his dad.  ”

“  somehow we fell out of touch.  ”

“  hope he took his bad deal and made a royal flush.  ”

“  don’t know if i’ll see you again someday.  ”

“  i hope that you’re okay.  ”

“  her parents hated who she loved.  ”

“  she was brought into a world where family was merely blood.  ” 

“  with the courage to unlearn all of their hatred.  ”

“  we don’t talk much.  ”

“  i miss you and i hope that you’re okay.  ”

“  address the letter to the holes in my butterfly wings.  ”

“  nothing’s forever, nothing is as good as it seems.  ”

“  when the clouds are ironed our and the monsters creep into your house, every door is hard to close.  ”

“  i hope you know how proud i am.  ”

“  i hope that you’re happier today.  ”

“  i love you and i hope that you’re okay.  ”  

[bumbleklee]

windblume confession(s)

masterlist | 1k prompt masterlist | pregnancy series

request: (@illusory-torrent) can i ask the meaning behind your url?? just curious. and could i also please request some kaeya and albedo getting competitive over the reader? reader can be gender neutral, i just wanna see my two best bois being competitive haha. thank you!

pairings: albedo x gn!reader, kaeya x gn!reader (love triangle)

warnings: none! (1.5k words)

a/n: soooo the meaning behind my url - it’s not that special lol. i wanted to make a genshin pun (klee = bee) and this is the first thing i came up with. also bea/bee, bumblebea/bumblebee, yktv

During the Windblume Festival, bouquets of flowers and letters were spilling off of your desk everyday. Despite knowing that most of the gifts came from anonymous senders, your heart still skipped a beat.

Part of you wondered if any of them were a prank. You didn’t see yourself as anything special, you weren’t as feminine and pretty as Barbara or muscular like Wagner, yet quite a few patrons found you good enough to pine over.

You skimmed through the gifts one day to see if you recognized any of the names. There was a letter from Bennett that was clearly addressed to Fischl so you tucked away the special note in a drawer with promises to deliver it later. You also found a letter from one of the Knight’s on your squad - but he was much younger than you and, frankly, the letter sounded like puppy love. Two contrasting bouquets of flowers sat side-by-side on the edge of your desk so you reached for them.

The first bouquet was about a dozen calla lilies tied together with a blue ribbon and the second was cecilia’s in a glass vase. The flowers piqued your interest, your mind already forming an idea about where they came from, and you read the attached cards.

“Meet me in the library,” You read aloud, your fingers tracing the edges of the cardstock. It wasn’t signed by anyone. The second one has a similar message, “Find me in the library.”

You wondered if the flowers were sent by the same person. But then why wouldn’t they state that? The questions made you wonder, again, if this was a trap. Could the flowers be from someone who wanted to mess with you? But despite your doubts, you grabbed your things and headed down the stairs to the library.

When you pushed open the door to the library, you realized you had no idea who or what you were looking for. The library was decorated beautifully, ribbon and flowers displayed on tables or breaks between the bookcases. The room itself smelled fresh, too, unlike its usual dusty aroma. While you glanced around the library, you saw Lisa sitting behind her desk and went to see if she knew what was going on.

“Happy Windblume Festival,” You smiled warmly at your coworker, “You’re not going to believe what I received.”

Lisa stopped reading her book to look up at you, the ghost of a smirk on her lips, “Hello, there. So many love-birds flew into your office this morning, I can only imagine what they brought you.”

You rolled your eyes, “Too many unrequited confessions.” She laughed softly at your joke, “Besides that, I received two bouquets of flowers that both told me to meet them here. Isn’t that strange?”

Lisa covered her mouth with a gloved hand and giggled again, “I think there’s something downstairs who would love to see you.”

You raised an eyebrow at Lisa but thanked her and took off down the stairs, careful not to slip on the wooden steps. As soon as your foot touched the floor, your sight met two men who had stopped bickering less than a moment ago. Kaeya and Albedo stood in front of a table, trying to put themselves back together in your presence.

“What’s going on?” You asked, realizing they were probably waiting for you. “Were the flowers from both of you?”

Kaeya and Albedo looked between each other, seemingly glaring dangers at each other. “I don’t know why he’s here,” Kaeya sneered, motioning to Albedo.

“Well, I don’t know why you’re here,” Albedo parroted, crossing his arms. You had never heard either of the men sound as ticked off as they were now.

“You both told me to meet you in the library,” You explained, confused. “That wasn’t planned?”

“No!” They said in unison.

You rubbed your temples, knowing that this wasn’t going to end easily. “I’m sorry,” You mumbled, “But can someone explain what’s going on.”

“Mr. Alberich overheard me planning to surprise you during the Windblume Festival and decided to ruin my plans,” Albedo said. When he spoke Kaeya’s name, there was nothing but venom in his tone.

Kaeya shrugged sarcastically, “I had no prior knowledge.”

“You used Klee to eavesdrop.”

“Did I, now?”

Albedo ran a hand through his hair, aggravated and annoyed. He had never liked Kaeya and this only fueled that fire. Kaeya wasn’t fond of Albedo either. He thought he was overrated in Mondstadt and that his admirers could do better.

“I mean,” Kaeya continued, giving Albedo the side eye, “Was it supposed to be a secret? You were awfully careless with the news.”

“My deepest apologies, I wasn’t aware I needed to broadcast my confession to all of Mondstadt before telling Y/N.”

“Your confession?” You wondered, “So the flowers weren’t a joke?”

Albedo looked at you with curious, and confused, eyes. “A joke? Of course not,” He said. A faint blush crept onto his cheeks, something you had never seen before, and Albedo fiddled with his gloved fingers nervously.

“I wanted to do that first,” Kaeya interjected, frowning slightly.

Kaeya’s words caught you off guard as well. “You like me, too?” He nodded in response and the three of you stood still for a while. Your mind was racing and your heart was beating out of your chest. You couldn’t believe not one but two of your coworkers had a crush on you and were confessing to you. But then the nerve-wracking decision came crashing down on you.

You had to pick one of them, right? The whole point of confessions was to find a possible suitor and here you had two options in front of you. Of course, you could reject both of them and run away but was that how you truly felt?

Albedo was soft and genuine. He often painted portraits of you and took you up to Dragonspine so could have snowball fights with Klee. He paid for dinner for you and recommended new books for you to read during your days off. At that moment, they seemed like friendly gestures. But looking back, you realized they were probably acts to one up Kaeya.

Likewise, Kaeya had his own plans to win you over. He spent exciting nights with you at the tavern and never complained about taking you home when you drank too much. Instead of buying you food, Kaeya bought you gifts like jewelry or artifacts. He often accompanied you on commissions, too.

“I need time to think this over,” You finally said. “Please, just agree not to kill each other in the meantime.”

Kaeya grumbled something under his breath, “Fine.”

“Why do you like me?” You asked, looking at Kaeya. “If you’re going to confess, then confess fully.”

The taller man thought for a moment before sending you his classic, cheeky grin. “I like having a challenge and you, my dear, proved to be that challenge.”

“What?” You asked, slightly offended.

“You play hard to get,” Kaeya continued, using his hands to accentuate his words, “I spoiled you for months and you still acted like we were nothing more than friends. Do friends buy each other gold necklaces in hopes they’ll realize you’ve fallen for them? You even have the necklace on to this day.” Instinctively, your fingers coiled around the dainty necklace around your neck that Kaeya had gifted to you weeks ago. When he gave it to you, you recognized it was a peculiar gift but played it off as Kaeya being extravagant. He sharpened his eyes, “Need I mention you’re the most exquisite looking person in Teyvat?”

Your voice caught in your throat and your cheeks burned with the compliment. You nervously played with the hem of your shirt and looked at Albedo for his answer.

“I just think you’re different,” He said simply, “You’re easy to get along with and I enjoy spending time with you. I feel like we’re compatible puzzle pieces.”

If possible, you blushed harder. Both men were darling and you felt like the luckiest person alive by being adored by both of them. As you glanced between the men, your stomach did a backflip. They were both looking at you with such intent and charisma, as if trying to enchant you. The idea of being with either of them made you feel butterflies.

But they are so drastically different, which made the decision that much harder. If you choose Kaeya, your relationship would be fiery and brand new all the time. He was full of adventure and flirting, favoring nightlife and excitement. And with Albedo, it would be calm and joyous. Your days would be spent in flower fields and underneath trees. Both sounded like a dream to you.

“I don’t know who to pick,” You admitted, holding back a sigh of defeat. “I never thought multiple people would like me at once, let alone you two. I just need more time.”

And with that, you turned on your heel and walked back up the stairs. Your head felt light and your mind was clouded with a million different scenarios. You felt guilty for leaving the men alone but until you could come up with a definite answer, they could wait.

[milkiane]

broken promises

pairings: fred weasley x reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of war, death eaters, mentions of death, mentions of alcohol, mentions of food, mentions of an angry padfoot, tiny fluff, and most importantly: angst angst angst

word count: 7498 ;-)

note: i hope you have the box of kleenex and a tub of ice cream i asked you to bring, because shit’s about to get real !!

how does one narrate a well-structured story when your life has been an absolute mess? well, i guess you could start from the night you met him.

take me back to the night we met.

it was rather unusual to see an upcoming sixth year amongst the flock of first years. you were studying at hogwarts for the first time, and you were quite glad that your dad, also known as the infamous sirius black, finally let you move in with him in 12 grimmauld place, as he claimed to finally have his life together.

you were formerly from the states. moving in with your aunt (a cousin of your father’s), and studying in ilvermorny as soon as you turned 11, explaining the prominent american accent amongst the british ones.

as soon as the sorting hat decided which house you would be in, professor mcgonagall, an elderly witch in long green robes and a pointed hat, told you to meet her at the deputy headmistress’s office after the feast.

you wished that you'd asked where the office was because now you were getting lost within the numerous hallways, stairs, and rooms of hogwarts. you knew how huge this school was, but you didn’t expect it to be too enormous to get lost in.

you were currently passing by a hallway full of paintings who were having an animated chat with one another. you let yourself smile softly, admiring the magic between the hallways. some of them greeted you, which you gladly returned.

you were about to take a turn in the hallway to your left when someone suddenly yelled, “hey, wait, no!”

“wha-?” but you were too late, as soon as you stepped foot in that corridor, you were immediately drenched in orange and purple slime.

too shocked to move, you stood there frozen. the guy who yelled, stood frozen as well, grimacing as you carefully wiped the slime off your face.

fred closed his eyes in mortification, expecting you to be mad. he anticipated yelling or scolding, and maybe even if you considered beating him to the pulp. when it didn’t come, he peeked an eye out open to see you levitating the slime off your body, and before he even knew it, he, too, was drenched in slime.

you laughed, and he swore he never heard anything so angelic until he got a fleeting speck of it. he didn’t even mind the slime dripping off him when he finally got to see a proper look at you. if he was going to be honest, he never really paid attention to the sorting ceremony. he and george have been talking about all the pranks they’re planning to pull, so this was the first time he caught the sight of you, and oh sweet baby merlin, he thought, you were stunning.

he snapped out of his trance when you decided to speak up, “so, is this some sort of welcoming tradition for the new-comers?”

“oh, only for the ravishing ones,” he smirked, giving himself a mental pat on the back for immediately coming up with the witty one-liner.

you rolled your eyes, fixing your brand new y/h robes. fred looked at you with curiosity, “what are you doing here, anyway? students don’t normally roam around here, most especially newbies. that’s why i waited for good ol’ filch whereas george was grabbing the dung bombs,” realizing that you probably had no idea who filch or george was, he stopped talking, giving you some room to talk.

“ah, well-”

“miss black! there you are, i had to question a few students and paintings about your whereabouts. th—“ she stopped speaking, glancing at the redhead behind me, “mr. weasley! what- what is the meaning of this? why are you drenched in goop?”

fred grinned, sending a wink your way, “that’s my cue! see ya ‘round, gorgeous. oh, and you, too, minnie!”

you and the deputy headmistress stared at his retreating figure with amusement. professor mcgonagall led you to her office and let you choose from the various optional classes and introduced you to a student who’ll give you a tour around the obsolete castle.

our friendship will never die, you're gonna see it's our destiny.

it has been two days since that fateful night when you met a certain redhead. you were trying to recall the directions towards the charms classroom when someone ran past you, harshly bumping your shoulder, and consequently making you drop your things. a distant yelp from behind you was heard, “oi! george, you prat!”

“godric, ’m sorry, didn’t notice you,” he said, picking up your fallen books and pouch of quills and ink. you looked up and recognized the fiery red hair and deep brown eyes.

“y’know, i should really anticipate the day when we’ll run into each other without you dousing me in slime or bumping into me when you're running away from someone,” you laughed, taking the books from him as you stood up with your pouch in hand.

“what d'you mean?” he tilted his head, evident confusion occupying his face.

you observed him, seeing if this is some kind of joke that he was playing. when you’ve seen no mischief swimming in his eyes or a smirk, you knew he was serious.

“oh, come on, weasley. i don’t reckon getting drenched in slime would be effortlessly forgettable,” you asked.

“i remember you, just not when you were, erm, drenched in slime. i saw you at the sorting ceremony. padfoot's daughter, yeah?” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. he rummaged through his head for where he could’ve possibly seen you. he felt bad that he didn’t know what you were talking about.

you sort of thought you left an impression. well, seeing as you were a victim in one of his pranks. “well, yeah, that, too, but i was talking about when i was in a hallway you claimed was deserted? then professor mcgonagall found us? no?”

he frowned, but just as his lips turned downwards, he started chuckling. weird.

“what’s so funny?”

“we haven’t particularly met.”

“what d’you mean? i’m rather sure that i wasn’t dreaming when that happened,”

he laughed, running a hand through his hair, “don’t worry, you weren’t,”

you were confused, to say the least, but then another voice from behind you spoke up, “that’s because it was me who you met that crucial night, goop,”

you looked up at him just in time as he swung an arm around your shoulder. you looked back between the guy who bumped into you and the guy who drenched you in slime.

back and forth.

forth and back.

red hair. red hair.

twin. twin.

“oh. OH!” you exclaimed, “twins! oh, merlin, this is embarrassing,” you laughed sheepishly. of course, that just had to happen.

they both laughed along with you. fred removed his hold on you and stood beside his twin, “yes, twins.”

george chuckled, offering you his hand to shake, “‘m george weasley, the bloke who drenched you in slime’s twin, and i sure won’t be forgetting about you now.”

i chuckled, shaking your head, “would you two be so nice and show me the way to charms? ‘ve got a few more minutes before classes start,”

“‘course, we’ve got nothing better to do than escort a pretty girl to her class, anyway,” fred, at least you thought it was fred, winked at you, making you huff amusingly.

the three of you walked together towards the desired destination as they, too, had charms, when curiosity got the best of you and asked, “hey george?”

he looked down at you, blame the evident height differences. “yeah?”

“why were you even running away a while ago?”

his eyes widened and fred smirked, taking his frozen state as an opportunity to smack his head, “tosspot left me with snape when he caught us, he got to run away whilst i got a weeks worth of detention,”

you snorted, “first rule of pranking is you don’t get caught, and here i thought you two were experts,”

“oh we are, darling! snape’s just timed well-- greasy prat’s been waiting for the chance to punish us.”

“well, if you’d let me, i’d be willing to be an apprentice for this little mischievous escapade of yours,” you offered, smiling as they both looked at each other with compelled looks.

“alright, freddie? reckon this is a start of a revolutionary friendship,”

“a start of a revolutionary friendship, indeed, georgie.”

“well, now that we’ve established our apprenticeship, ‘tis lovely to meet you both, i’m y/n black.” you smiled, taking each of their hands. they grinned mischievously, “glad to have you with us, miss black,” and before you knew it, they dragged you to the classroom by your arms.

each night i ask the stars up above, why must i be a teenager in love?

“you fancy him, don’t you?” you shifted your gaze away from fred and glanced at george, who was looking at you with a pointed look.

you knew that you could trust george, he’s your best friend, and you are his. you knew that he wouldn’t tell a soul, even fred, despite him being his twin.

you sighed, “yeah, yeah, i do,”

he nodded, a thoughtful look on his face, “do you ever plan on telling him?”

“no. it’s obvious that he doesn’t like me back. he sees me as his best friend and i certainly don’t want to ruin our dynamics, george.” you whispered as you saw fred making his way towards the both of you.

“what’re the two of you whispering about?” fred whispered, moving his head in between you and george.

you smiled, “fred. but don’t tell him that! we don’t want to feed his egotistical attitude if he ever finds out,”

“oh? well, why’re you talking about,” he looks at his surroundings as if he didn’t want anyone to hear, “fred?”

“we were debating whether he’s the most handsome twin, or if it’s george.”

“and who’d you say?”

“george, of course,”

fred gasped dramatically, earning a harsh glare from madam pince, “you wound me, woman! how could i possibly live with the betrayal?”

you giggled silently, scared that madam pince might consider giving you her wrath, “sit down, you wanker, madam pince might kick us out again.”

“are you actually scared of the librarian?” george chuckled.

you look at him with wide eyes, “how’re you not? if looks could kill, she’d give he who must not be named a run for his money!”

“SHHH!” speak of the devil. you cowered away in between the twins as they made fun of you.

“it isn’t funny!” you whispered, tilting your head so your hair curtained your face.

“i don’t know, goop, it’s quite hilarious,” george continued snickering. ‘goop’ has been their nickname for you ever since your first encounter with fred, it was supposed to be a one-time thing, the nickname, but they sort of just stuck with it.

fred cooed, “aww, don’t worry that pretty little head of yours, i’ll— georgie and i will protect you from pince’s frenzy,”

you rolled your eyes trying to express irritation, but the smile on your lips have betrayed you. you were about to respond when you’ve been interrupted by a couple of giggling second-year girls.

the three of you snapped your heads towards them, confused.

“s’there anything you’d like to share, ladies?” fred asked, wiggling his eyebrows, making them giggle more. you and george shared a glance and smiled.

the three of them looked at you, making you dumbfounded, “is he your boyfriend?”

your eyes widened in surprise, but you decided to play along and joke, “which one?”

they giggled, pointing at fred.

you both looked at each other with raised eyebrows and small smiles.

“yes.”

“no.”

you looked at each other once more, you with a mix of stun and disbelief, fred had a huge grin on his face. and george? george just rolled his eyes, displeased with the obliviousness of his best friend and twin who clearly got the hots for each other.

“we’d make such a cute couple, no?” fred asked, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

you looked at the girls and gave them a wink, “hmm, i don’t know… i’m not particularly fond of having ginger babies.” they giggled. gee, what was wrong with them and giggling?

he rolled his eyes and leaned forward, gesturing for the second years to come closer. fred smiled at them and whispered, “i’m not her boyfriend, i’m her husband,” they gasped, grabbing your attention, you tried to make out what he was saying but to no avail.

“yeah, we’re married, and now you better start calling her mrs. weasley whenever you see her, yeah?” fred grinned mischievously before leaning back to his chair. you looked at him in suspicion, but he paid you no mind as he opened up a book that you both know he won’t read.

you shook your head, checking your watch for the time, “i better get going, i promised to help hermione with differentiating runes,” you kissed the cheek of both boys, but lingering a bit with fred. when you pulled back, you waved at the girls.

they giddily waved back and said, “goodbye! see you around, mrs. weasley!”

you stopped in your tracks, slowly turning around to glare at the sniggering twins. you scoffed, turning back around and leaving the library, avoiding the gaze of the frightening librarian. as soon as you were out of sight, you let out a chuckle, feeling your cheeks heat up.

fred watched you gradually get smaller as you left the library. he would be lying if he said that he didn’t wish to be in a relationship with you, but he didn’t want to make a move— afraid that you’ll reject him and your friendship would be broken. he adores your friendship too much to risk it.

george watched as his brother stared at your retreating figure with love and longing. he shooed away the girls so that he could talk to him without any disturbances.

he repeated the question he asked you moments before fred arrived, “you fancy her, don’t you?”

he snapped his gaze to his brother, eyes wide and brows raised, “huh?”

“y/n. d’you fancy her?” he repeated, this time facing his parchment to continue writing the order forms.

“why? do you?”

“no. now, answer my question.”

fred sighed, “i’m head over heels for her, georgie,”

george just smiled at his brother, mentally counting all the galleons he’ll be able to receive within the month— he knew you’d get together sooner or later, but george definitely wished it‘d be sooner because he doesn’t really fancy losing tons of galleons.

we used to steal your parents' liquor, and climb to the roof. talk about our future, like we had a clue.

after weeks of pining after each other, and a very satisfied (and a few galleons richer) george later, you can finally say that fredrick gideon weasley was now your boyfriend. all you had to do now is to tell your father.

the weasleys were staying over at 12 grimmauld place for the holidays, much to yours and fred’s pleasure.

the ‘adults’ (they still didn’t want you and the twins to join despite your age legality) were still having the meeting and it was quite late. you just had to wait till everyone was sound asleep before sneaking out of your room and wait for fred in the lounge.

once you’ve heard the satisfying shut of each door, you quietly tiptoed around your room with your fluffy socks on, determined not to wake ginny and hermione up.

once you opened the door, you were met with the sound of another door opening. you froze, hastily thinking of some sort of excuse as to why you were still awake.

you didn’t see nor hear any signs of movement so you peeked your head a bit, and saw fred doing the same. you quietly giggled, carefully shutting the door as you made your way to fred.

“hi goop, missed you,” fred mumbled, fuzzing his head in the crook of your neck.

you laughed silently, “fred, we just saw each other three hours ago.”

“i know, but that was too long. it felt like forever,” he smiled, “now, c’mon, we need to celebrate,”

“celebrate? for what?”

“for successfully sneaking out, of course,” he said, steering you around the house, hand in hand. “now, d’you reckon your dad has a stash of fire whiskey somewhere?”

you hummed, removing the hold of his hand and rummaged through the kitchen's cupboards, “aha! there y’are,”

fred turned his gaze towards you as you shook the whiskey in his face, “let’s go,”

he grabbed the shot glasses and a blanket that was laying around in the couch before letting you drag him away.

“c’mon, freddie,” you whispered, slowly opening the attic ladder, hoping that kreacher was nowhere to be seen.

you both went in, careful not to step on any creaking floorboards. when you reached the window you opened it and handed the whiskey to fred, “give me a minute,”

“be careful!” he exclaimed, nervously watching you climb over the ledge.

“always am,” you winked before raising yourself and onto the roof, “give me that and climb,”

fred did so, and as soon as the both of you were up there, he threw the thick blanket over the both of you, and cuddled with each other.

a couple of shots later, the both of you were giggling, talking about all the pranks you’ve managed to pull through the years you’ve been in hogwarts. the laughter soon died down and the sounds of breathing, the wind, and the engines of the muggle vehicles were the only things that were heard.

“do… do you ever think about the future?” fred asked. you stared at him, he wasn’t looking at you though, he was gazing at the twinkling stars up above.

“yeah… they mostly contain you, though,” you whispered, placing your head on his chest as he pulled you closer.

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

“me, too,” he smiled, kissing your forehead.

you sat up and kissed his nose, “c’mon, red, reckon we’ve had too much to drink,”

the both of you packed up everything you’ve used, carefully made your way down, kept the firewhiskey, and washed the glasses. too tired and drunk to go to bed, the both of you retired on the couch, sleeping in each other’s arms.

as soon as the sun crept up through the window blinds, you groaned, rubbing your eyes to get rid of the sleep. once you’ve gotten used to the blinding light, you looked up and smiled at your sleeping redhead.

you slowly slipped out of his grasp, kissed his forehead, and walked towards the drawers to look for painkillers. you haven’t even drunk that much.

fred woke up a little while later after feeling the warmth of your body heat disappear, he yawned quietly, taking in his surroundings and remembered what happened last night. he was quite giddy, to say the least. he has been after hearing that you thought of having a future with him.

he stood up and saw you at the kitchens, drinking a glass of water. he made his way towards you and slipped his arms around you, hugging from behind.

“g’morning, love,” his morning voice still never fails to make you flustered.

“morning, freddie,” you smiled. he moved around you and grabbed a cup of water for himself. as soon as he made sure his morning breath was out of the way, he smiled at you, “it’s nice that your voice was the first thing i heard today.”

he leaned against the counter as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

fred gladly complied, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. you slowly bit his bottom lip, emitting a low groan from him.

sirius just woke up and was desperately in need of a cup of black coffee, no pun intended, he chuckled. he grabbed his hair brush from his vanity, brushing his tousled hair as he silently went down, careful not to wake anyone up.

as soon as he entered the kitchen, he was met with the sight of the weasley boy groping his daughter’s arse. his hand stopped mid-brush.

“get your hands off my daughter, weasley!” he growled, making his way towards the poor bloke.

the both of you immediately jumped away from each other, eyes wide. this isn’t how he’s supposed to find out!

fred was scared shitless, if he might say, so he carefully backed away as sirius approached him like a predator.

fred ran. yes, ran. and sirius? he chased him around the kitchen with his hair brush in hand.

“‘m sorry, sirius, don’t kill me,”

“how dare you come into my house and snog my daughter!”

“no, sirius, ‘m sorry!”

“then you strut around and grope her arse like that,”

“sirius! said ‘m sorry, put the hair brush down!”

“didn’t molly teach you any manners?!”

“she did, she did, she’s a wonderful mother. sirius, no!”

in other times, you would’ve stopped the chaos whilst sirius, who was still in his dog-printed pajamas, chased a very pale fred around the kitchen with a hair brush.

but you didn’t, so you were laughing your arse off. you wouldn’t want to miss the chance to laugh your arse out with what’s happening. you knew your dad was a sweetheart, he wouldn’t actually kill fred, right? … right?

soon, every member of the order and the children, frantically went down with their wands drawn out, looking around for trouble, but they, instead of seeing any death-eater related attacks, saw a very angry padfoot manhunting a 6’3 ginger twin with a harmless hair brush, and a wheezing y/n.

“mum, hide me! he’s gonna murder me with a brush!” fred immediately took cover behind his mother. she and the other adults sighed exasperatedly but smiling nonetheless.

“thought someone was getting tortured with how freddie was screaming bloody murder,” george snickered.

“get out here and face me like a man, fredrick!” sirius growled, but stopped a bit and asked, “or is it george?”

fred cowered away behind his mum, “george, george! ‘tis definitely ‘im!”

george’s eyes widened and yelped, “‘m george! he’s fred!”

“dad! stop that, fred and i are dating,” you said, wiping your tears away.

sirius was taken aback, lowering his weapon, “what?”

“we were supposed to tell you today, but i guess you were just too eager,” you teased him, making your way towards fred and intertwining your hands together. fred looked slightly hesitant but smiled sheepishly at your father.

sirius just squinted his eyes at fred, racking over the tall redhead, “you better watch your behavior, boy, or you might as well just sleep with an eye open.”

you knew your dad loved fred, he’s been asking about him the moment you’ve told him about your blooming friendship and the pranking adventures you have had. he admires the bloke, fred reminds him of his younger self, minus the playboy endeavors and the family issues. he approves of the boy, but that doesn’t mean he fancies waking up to him snogging his daughter.

sirius slowly approached fred, opening his arms for a hug, but fred flinched, making everyone laugh. when he realized what sirius was trying to do, he laughed nervously, hugging him back and awkwardly patting his back. he was about to pull away when sirius tugged him back in and whispered, “i’m serious, fred. one wrong move, and i’ll be damned to be back in azkaban,”

fred shuddered slightly, but nodded nonetheless, “i’ll never hurt her, sirius, she means the world to me.” he smiled, both of them looking at you as you laughed with george and remus, retelling them what happened.

i don't promise a lot, but i'm keeping my word.

it has been at least a year and a few months since your father has passed, and fred has been with you through it all. you were spending your holidays at the burrow with the rest of the weasleys (plus harry, remus, and tonks).

you were currently in the living room, gossiping about boys (well, you were talking about fred) and the latest scandals in hogwarts with ginny.

“gin, i mean, have you seen the way harry’s been looking at you during dinner?” you asked, watching as her face grew red.

“he has not! ‘m convinced that you inhaled too much of fred’s perfume to be talking ‘bout something as poxy as that, y/n.” she laughed, fiddling with her sleeping robes.

“can you blame me? he smells so good. now, don’t tell me you haven’t had a sniff of thou chosen one’s essence?” you giggled, “c’mon gin! the both of you are meant to be, you’re soulmates, a stubborn one, at that.”

“we’re not, y/n! you and fred’re the proper definition of soulmates,”

you smiled softly, “it’ll take time, ginny. i can see the way he looks at you, it’s the same way i look at your brother,”

she sighed, “let’s just hope you’re right,”

“i’m always right,” you joked, waving at fred as he made his way towards the both of you.

“what’re my lovely girlfriend and sister talking about?” he smiled, kissing your cheek.

“soulmates,” ginny shrugged, looking away from harry.

“soulmates? what a load of bollocks,” fred’s face twisted in disgust, before whispering in your ear, “we’re definitely soulmates though,”

your face started to heat up and you couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face, “yeah?”

“yeah,” he pecked your lips, throwing an arm around your shoulder and turning to ginny, “yeah!”

“i reckon he’ll marry you on the spot if he can,” she rolled her eyes, smiling as well since she heard what fred said.

“oh i would’ve done it the moment she drenched me in slime, but it has to be special, y’know?” he said, peppering your face with kisses, “flowers, confetti, diamond ring, grand gestures, all that sort.”

“freddie, i’ll marry you even if you propose with a toy ring,” you beamed up at him, kissing his nose, “because i’ll love you forever and always.”

“i’ll love you forever and always, too, goop,” he said, looking at you with pure love and adoration, “and that’s a promise.”

i'll say, "will you marry me?", i swear that i will mean it.

and fred did mean it as you’ve been together for four years now and counting.

“we’re in this together, goop,” he said, which leads to where you are now, fighting off the death eaters and co, side-by-side.

“stupefy!” you shouted, knocking off the death eater charging towards percy.

“thanks,” he breathed out, you nodded, “no problem.”

“incendio!”

“ascendio!”

“incarcerous!”

“stupefy!”

“petrificus totalus!”

you saw fred and percy handling a group of death eaters beside you as you finished off one, but what edged you off was one of them raised their wand, but it wasn’t pointing at any one of you. it was pointing at something behind you, you looked back just in time as he yelled the spell.

“fred!” you pushed him, mustering up all your strength to bring you along as the wall from behind you collapsed.

you coughed, “stupefy!” successfully throwing back the man.

you detach yourself from fred, “fred, fred?” you patted his cheeks, he was still breathing.

“c’mon darling, you have to wake up,” you cried, looking up for a bit as percy kept the remaining death eaters distracted.

“marry me,” fred whispered

you let out a breath of relief as you looked down, “w-what?” you wiped off the dust in his face.

“marry me,” he said more clearly, slowly sitting up to cup your face.

you slapped his arm, “you could’ve gotten yourself killed, you numpty!”

“but… i didn’t?” he yelped, rubbing his arm to soothe the pain, “not the answer that i was expecting but, alright,”

“marry me, y/n,” he kneeled down on one knee, grasping your hands, “i know that this isn’t exactly the proposal i’ve had in mind, hell, i don’t even have the ring, but i love you ‘till the ends of the earth and i’m asking you once again, y/n black. will you do the honors of being my future wife?”

you cried, nodding your head as you didn’t trust yourself to speak up. you pulled him in a hug as you sobbed against your shoulder, “i love you, too, fred, forever and always,”

he kissed you, he kissed you like it was the last thing he’ll ever get to do.

“erm, guys, i’m terribly happy for the both of you, and i hate to say this but we’re in the middle of a war!” percy warned.

“c’mon, goop, we’ve got a war to win,” fred kissed you one last time before the both of you ran off to help percy.

and i realized, no, we're not promised tomorrow.

they said that a couple’s wedding day is bound to be the best day of their lives. a new chapter to write. a new door to open. a new voyage to venture. tons of possibilities.

you were standing in front of a length-view mirror, admiring yourself in the reflection. you were wearing the wedding dress of your dreams, your hair was styled into a sophisticated up-do, and your makeup was elegant.

“hey, sis-in-law, you ready?” george peeked his head through the door, “wow, i-”

“hi george,” you smiled, wiping off the tears gathering in your eyes, “oh, merlin,”

“freddie’s gonna go bonkers,” he hugged you, pulling back to admire you once again, “c’mon.”

you and fred granted george to be his best man and the one who’ll walk you across the aisle, and for the first time in your six years of friendship, you swore you never saw him hug you so tight with tears in his eyes.

as soon as you arrived in front of the closed archway, george stopped to look at you, “you sure you don’t want to back out, goop? fred farts in his sleep sometimes. ‘ve got the keys of the flying ford anglia in case you ever need an escape plan,” he joked.

you giggled, “i think i can handle a farting fred, georgie. i’ve been your best friend for too long, you’ll never know how much i’ve been through,”

he chuckled, “if that’s the case, then let’s go get you and loverboy officially married,”

as soon as the door’s been opened, you suck in a breath, awestruck with how the decorations were perfect— all thanks to molly’s orders and hermione’s organizing, guests in their assigned seats, and most especially, your husband-to-be clad in a black and white tuxedo, tears gathering in his eyes. everything was so magical.

you were expecting that today would be the happiest day of your life, you were expecting to exchange your detailed vows with fred, you were expecting for the long-awaited “i do’s”, you were expecting to seal the deal with a kiss, you were expecting to have a wedding ring as an eternal promise displayed on your left ring finger, you were expecting to listen to george’s embarrassing stories of you newlyweds, you were expecting to start your future with fred.

what you didn’t expect though? was that as soon as george gave you away, as soon as you were standing in front of him, fred apologized and ran away, tugging at his tie.

your smile disappeared.

the guests gasped, turning their attention to you as ron and arthur chased after him. tears started to pool in your eyes, releasing a shaky breath. you hardly noticed that the guests were anticipating your reaction or that the weasleys were ushering them into the venue where the reception was supposed to be. you were just staring at the place where fred once stood, expecting him to come back and say that it was all a prank.

but he didn’t, and that’s what broke you the most.

you collapsed on the floor, sobbing on george’s shoulder as he whispered some comforting words.

you’ve waited, and waited, and waited.

you sat on the step board, still in your wedding dress, tear-stained face, and messy hair. george offered some company, just sitting beside you as you stayed silent, rubbing your back soothingly as the guests bid you goodbye with sad smiles.

george was mad. no, that was an understatement, he was fuming. he knew how much fred loved you. he knew all the plans he had in store for the both of you. he knew all the words fred will say in his vows. what changed?

as soon as everyone had cleared out, you refused to leave from where you were. you refused the food they gave you, or the clothes to change into. you were positive that fred would come back. he promised.

“c’mon, y/n, please, let’s just get you home,” george said, offering you his hand.

“no, i-i’ll stay, george,” you said, your voice cracking, “i’ll wait for him, he’ll come back. he can never do this to me, he wouldn’t.”

but you were wrong. he never came back. he broke his promise.

by the time the clock struck 7, george have had enough of your stubbornness. he understood how you felt, of course, but he didn’t want his best friend to wait all night for someone he knew wouldn’t come back.

so the both of you walked, he shrugged off his suit jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders. you didn’t want to come back to the burrow, but you had to pick up your godson and be on your way. you didn’t see fred there either. you ignored everyone and all their pitying stares. you didn’t even hug molly back when she wanted to comfort you.

you just carefully detached yourself from her, grabbed your godson, and went out. you and george were walking in silence as he carried the boy, walking the both of you towards the apparition point.

george sighed, he knew he wouldn’t be seeing you for a while, and he wanted to give you some space, so brought the sleeping kid to your hold and kissed your forehead, “owl me whenever you need me, yeah?”

you forced a sad smile, “thanks georgie, i’ll see you around,” and apparated away to 12 grimmauld place.

you said you'll grow old with me.

“uncle georgie!!” teddy, your godson, immediately abandoned his coloring book and leaped in the arms of george.

“hey, little man!” he laughed, watching as teddy’s hair turned into the same shade of red as his. it always happens ever since he decided that george was his favorite uncle (don’t tell harry!), and he’ll never change it to his original hair color until the next day.

you smiled, placing your cup of coffee down to greet your best friend, “hey, george,” you kissed his cheek.

“‘m just checkin’ in, how’re the both of you?” he asked, ruffling teddy’s red hair.

“good! mum—“ he stopped, “erm, i mean, auntie y/n will finally bring me to di-gonley later!”

your heart stopped for a moment when he called you ‘mum’. this hasn’t been the first time that it happened, he usually gets too preoccupied to notice, but you never mentioned it nor talked to him about it as he still missed his biological mother. “it’s diagon alley, lovey, and yes, we’ll be leaving in a few,”

you walked away from them and grabbed your purse, “go ask uncle georgie if he wants to come join.”

he beamed, grabbing george’s hands, “can you please come with us, uncle georgie? please, please, please?”

george sent him a faux look of contemplation, “hmm, i don’t know, teddy. d’you think auntie y/n will buy us some ice cream?”

teddy gasped, and wobbled his way to you, “auntie y/n! will you buy us some ice cream? uncle georgie said he’ll join if you do!”

you playfully glared at george, making him chuckle, before returning your gaze to teddy lupin, whose face was now in what you’ll describe as his, ‘i’m-a-very-adorable-boy-please-give-in’.

“oh, alright, let uncle georgie help you wear your shoes,”

as soon as the three of you were good to go, you floo’ed your way to diagon alley. you never apparated when you were with teddy, he usually gets sick when you do, so you had to fixate a floo network in your muggle flat. it was an incredible hassle, especially with muggle neighbors. you had to use multiple silencing spells while the wizards in charge were doing it.

it’s been a while since you’ve been to diagon alley, you’ve avoided it at all costs, especially after… that … anyways, teddy has been seriously adamant on going ever since george told him all about it and his shop.

you knew that you couldn’t fend it (and him) off forever, so after mustering up every courage you had, you agreed. you reckon that it was worth it, seeing your godson, the boy who made your life full of hope and happiness again, incredibly bubbly and cheerful, it eased your nerves a bit.

fred knew that his twin was off to go somewhere. george always tells him, but he never mentions where he’s going or who he’s meeting, just that he had places to be. so to busy himself, he went to florean fortescue’s ice cream parlor to cool off.

while waiting for your order of three cones of ice cream, george offered to bring teddy to flourish and bott’s since he knew how much teddy loves coloring books and bedtime storybooks.

once fred passed by the street, he opened the entrance with a satisfying ring of the welcoming bell. he breathed in the sweet smell of the countless flavors of ice cream. he scanned through the shop for a place to sit when it suddenly stopped at the sight of a familiar h/c. he froze, no, it couldn’t be, right?

“three servings of ice cream supreme for y/n!” the man hollered.

no…

you stood up and made your way towards the front, and fred had gotten a glimpse of you. you looked gorgeous, you always were, fred thought. you were using a hairband, something you used to despise as it always hurt the back of your ears, doing its job to keep your hair away from your face.

you took your order just in time to see your companions for the day, oblivious to the stare of another certain ginger.

“mum! uncle georgie bought me a new book! ‘tis about dragons!” a tiny redhead exclaimed with glee.

fred felt his heart drop, ‘mum’? ‘uncle georgie’? red hair…? again, it couldn’t be, right?

“edward remus! lower your voice, darling,” you chuckled, setting your ice creams down on your table.

“oops, sorry,” he apologized sheepishly, covering his mouth.

before you could even reply, a voice from behind you has spoken up, “erm, y/n?”

your breath hitched in your throat. “no,” you whispered.

george grimaced, grabbing your ice creams and a very confused teddy’s hand, “we’ll be at the shop if you want to leave,” he whispered to you before leaving the both of you alone (minus the parlor’s customers and employees).

you frowned, following them out, and steered away from your ex-fiancé.

“y/n, wait!” fred followed you out and grabbed your hand.

you whipped around to face him, pulling your hand away from his hold, tears pooling in your eyes, “what do you want, fred?”

“was that your kid?” he asked casually, trying to hide his nervousness.

“no- he’s teddy, lupin and tonks’ kid, i’m his godmother. he forgets that i’m not his biological mum sometimes, and if you were wondering why his hair was red, it’s because he loves george.” you said, “now, ‘m gonna ask you again, fred, what. do. you. want?”

“i- i just wanted to talk,” he mumbled, looking down at his shiny shoes to refrain from looking at your crestfallen expression.

“seriously, fred? you want to talk?” you scoffed in disbelief, “alright, let’s talk, let’s talk about how you left me, let’s talk about how you broke your promise, let’s talk about how you broke me,”

fred winced at your wavering voice, “‘m sorry, darling,”

“are you really, fred? because- because it’s been almost two years and you—“ you sighed, wiping away your tears to no avail, it’s still falling. instead, you asked him the question that’s been on your mind ever since, “why did you leave me?”

“i was scared,” he started, cracking his knuckles. a mannerism of his when he’s feeling anxious.

“scared of what exactly?” you urged, determined to know what he was so afraid of that he had to run away on your wedding day.

“of you…” he mumbled, looking up at you. he wished he hadn’t because he didn’t know it was possible for you to look even broken than before.

“me?” your voice cracked, “so it’s my fault, now?”

fred shook his head, getting frustrated at himself, “no, no. i was scared that, if you married me, you’d get hurt because i might not live up to your expectations.”

“bullshit, fred!” you cried, earning a few looks from the bystanders, you didn’t care, and nor did fred, “why? don’t you think i’m getting hurt right now?”

fred felt his tears in his eyes, “i’ve had so many doubts, so many questions, y/n,” you were about to reply when he raised hand, “and no, it wasn’t about you, just please, listen,”

he sucked in a breath, “y/n, what if i said yes?”

“we would’ve been happy, we wouldn’t be here in the first place,” you whimpered, feeling the heartbreak you’ve once experienced over and over again, “did you even really love me?”

“i did, i still do, but you deserve so much better than me, y/n” fred whispered, running a hand through his hair as he looked at you again.

you shook your head, “stop lying, fred."

“no, y/n! what if i said yes and i wouldn’t be able to keep my vows?”

“well, fred, you didn’t even get to marry me and you already broke the promise! now, tell me, did that answer your questions?” you asked, “did it, fred?”

fred let a tear fall, “no, no it didn’t. it just made me realize how hard it was to lose you,”

you sniffled, staring up at the sky to keep the tears in bay, “i loved you, fred! i loved you and you left me. i loved you… and i still do, and i hate myself for it because no matter how hard i try to convince myself that i’ve moved on, i haven’t. fred, i still look for you in everyone in hopes that i could somehow get some closure… and it doesn’t help that i see you in everything as well; i remember you when i see a plate of pancakes, knowing how you love them with chocolate, i remember you when it rains because we used to dance around in it like there’s no one around. it hurts, freddie. it hurts because i see you everywhere because we used to do everything together.”

“and i regret it, alright? i regret letting you go. it has been eating me alive ever since. i couldn’t function well without you,” he whispered, “and all i’m asking is for forgiveness, y/n.”

you just stared at him, hiccuping as you continued to cry. you wanted to leap into his warm embrace and forgive him. you wanted to take him back. you wanted to kiss him. you just wanted to be in his arms again. you just wanted to be with him again.

but he hurt you. he hurt you in many ways you’ve never expected. he broke you. the same guy who swore to your father that he’ll never hurt you. the same guy who promised to marry you and spend the rest of your life with.

fred saw the hesitation and hurt in your eyes so he sighed, “i’m sorry, goop. i’m sorry for being such a coward. i was never ready to say goodbye… i never was,” he took one last glance at you before leaving you once again.

you sobbed as you watched his figure retreat slowly. you didn’t care if there were people looking at you with concern and pity. you didn’t care if someone had accidentally bumped into you. your mind was too busy with the thoughts of fred, so you apparated back into your flat, trusting george to take care of teddy for a while.

fred’s heart broke even more as he heard your distant sob. he let the tears gathered in his eyes fall. all he wanted to do was to bring you in his arms and shower you with his love, make up for all the lost time, but he knew that he deserved the pain. he deserved it because he hurt you, he broke you, and he can never forgive himself for that.

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[80s4life]

The Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing

Word Count: 4,438

Status: Not Requested

Fandom: Back To The Future 1985

Relationship: Biff Tannen x Female Reader

Summary: As time is altered for a total of 2 weeks (I extended it slightly), you and Marty struggle to get his parents under control, having problem after the next. But, when an unexpected solution occurs, you find yourself willingly okay with it, soon finding the exact reason as to why.

Warnings: language, fluff, Biff being a dick, slight angst, cute Biff

Masterlist Back To The Future Masterlist

Prompts: (from this list @youneedsomeprompts​)

Y/C/S= Your Choice of Sport/ Your Chosen Sport (you don’t have to honestly play one, just choose one you like or one that comes to mind)

{gif and prompts are not mine, gif credits go to @backtothefuturemovies and credits were given above for prompts!}

No one ever said time travel was fun. No one ever said the job was easy. And no one sure as hell told you the consequences that come with it. Well, at least not before you, and your best friend, Marty McFly, had gone dead-on through a barn, sacred a neighboring family of ‘alien invasion,’ run into younger McFly parents, and altered time just enough to fuck you over for a few days.

I mean, who would’ve guessed right? Your mom just so happens to be romantically interested in you, their child. Well, that was at least in Marty’s case. For you, you had just managed to run into the biggest dickhead of the century, Biff Tannen. Or so you thought?

Making your way out of bed, you automatically go to where Marty was sleeping in the garage, waking him along with Doc up. The go-to plan for the day was to go undercover as usual students in the 50′s, secretly following Marty’s parents around, finding out where they lie in this part of time, and try to find ways into manipulating them together once more in time for Marty and you to get back home. Easy enough, right?

Groaning, Marty goes to slap your hands away weakly, mumbling something along the lines of ‘Just a few more minutes.’ You giggle slapping his hands back in an attempt to wake him up cheerily. Mornings weren’t really your forte either, so any upbeat wake-up is better than a pissy, tired, horrible morning. 

Doc, on the other hand, was happy to return the affection, getting out of bed to give a quick hug and kiss to the forehead. Then he makes his way over to the bed, going to tickle Marty’s feet as you go to tickle his sides. Finally, in a fit of laughter, Marty gets up and goes straight for the bathroom. You were going to argue him, having to use the bathroom first, but decide to just leave it be, heading for the makeshift kitchen instead.

You smile fondly as Doc and Marty play around a while later, wrestling about, cracking jokes. It was only just a few hours ago that you and Marty had witnessed the untimely death of the currently very lively man in the house. Witnessing the blood loss, the machine gun in action, and the bullets that whizzed pass with only one malicious intent: to kill. But he’s here now; he’s safe and sound, having many years until that date will arrive.

With the freshly cooked smell of eggs, toast, and pancakes, the boys straighten up, Doc clearing his throat in an attempt to organize himself, and Marty leaving his shirt ruffled as he follows the smell of deliciousness. You giggle as both men of different ages act exactly the same, piling their plates high and digging in, giving thanks through mouthfuls.

///LATER///

After breakfast had finished, you and Marty made your way to the school, not wanting to be late, and, quite frankly, not wanting to miss a second in the disaster we’re in, wanting to fix it as soon as possible. Upon entering, the building erupts in laughter, tears, screaming, perfume, cologne, aftershave, and lots and lots of both testosterone and estrogen. Fucking high school, you smile.

Going to “your locker” right besides “Marty’s,” you both place the books and supplies that are unneeded inside it and take only the things you need for the first two classes, somehow having those together. As Marty catches glimpse of his father, George McFly, he winks at you, moving to catch up to him. Rolling your eyes playfully, you turn back towards your locker, just barely missing a group of young men some ways down the hallway, locking eyes with a particularly taller man, towering almost everyone in the halls.

You pay no mind, however, being blindsided by three girls your age. Instantly, you recognize the one right in front as Lorraine, Marty’s mother. Smiling nervously, your cheeks tint only a little, being unprepared to see her so quickly, not yet having a plan made up on how you could help tackle the situation with Marty.

“Hiya! I’ve never seen you before, are you new here? I’m Lorraine Baines, and you are?” she asks cheerfully, her books clasped tightly to her chest.

Taking an obnoxiously long time staring dumbfounded, you finally realize you haven’t spoken, quickly recovering with newfound purpose and confidence, “Ah, yes! I am new here! Sorry, I’m just trying to get used to this place a tiny bit. I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Well that’s quite alright, you can come with us!” she says once more in a cheery tone, taking you by the arm and lacing her arm around yours, locked elbows. You smiled, knowing exactly where Marty’s cheerful and people-person nature had come from. Walking down the halls, she had asked for my schedule, checking classes to see what we had together, “English, History, and Agriculture- Hey! You should try out for cheer leading!” 

Shaking your head lightly, “Nah, I’m more of a Y/C/S myself to be frank.”

“But...We don’t have that sport here? There are no girls sports at all actually...” Lorraine says confused. You go to cover it up, choosing to say it was a sport you play for fun at home, in the backyard. However, a beefy arm separates you momentarily from her, as the owner of the harm moves to pin her to the lockers.

You were going to walk away, figuring it was some sort of make-out session in the works, but upon looking at her before going, you notice that the man was absurdly unwanted. 

“Get your meathooks off me Biff!” she screams at the man, his huge form towering her much smaller one. Not taking the message, the pair continue to squabble, neither of them being successful in winning. The warning bell sounds over the halls and classrooms, alarming kids to get their asses moving, but it seems whoever this dick is, he feels he is greater than the school, and god forbid, knowledge.

“Hey, you do realize your not making a damn bit a difference, right? She’s not interested! And, quite frankly, it seems as if no one does! Now, if you don’t mind, could you please be kind enough to unhand her as some of us treasure a piece of mind and how to take a hint?” you finish, quite ticked off as the last bell warns, cursing under your breath as you already know your in for detention on the first day.

It finally seems that he’d caught a grip, thankfully, letting go of Lorraine’s arm and she quickly scurries out of his proximity, taking your hand to lead you to the class you both needed to be in. As you go to walk in, you are stopped by the teacher, scolding both you and Lorraine. Looking at her regrettably, she smiles defeated. So you decide to do what’s right, take the fall.

“I’m sorry sir, I didn’t know where to go as I was trying to find where all of my classes were before I ended up lost every time classes switch. I caught up to Lorraine here at some point, and as she was hurrying to this class, she was kind enough to show me where I needed to be,” you finish, sighing guiltily.

“Well, as you’ve taken acknowledgment to your mistake, then you’d be just as happy with detention. After school, on Friday, as the first week is extremely busy. As for you, Miss Baines, thank you for your help. You are off the hook for now,” the older gentleman finishes, nodding to each of you personally before turning around and beginning just one of the classes you’d have today. This is going to be fun!

///LATER///

Finally, after grueling hours of just a few of your classes, lunchtime had came round, giving you a slight break. Catching sight of Lorraine, you smile and wave, going in the direction of Marty, or Calvin Klein, as you’d heard Lorraine go on and on about. You’d known it was him the second she’d said it, the brand not yet known to man yet; or at least in this timeline, it wasn’t.

As time had went on, it was only natural for the peace to be broken, as a newly familiar face was starting to appear more and more, Biff Tannen, as you’d known his name by now. But, instead of heading towards Lorraine, he makes his way over to the table you were residing with George and Marty, sitting himself right beside you. 

At first, you were trying to ignore him, knowing his presence was there, but keeping your eyes trained on either Marty or George, eyes dancing between the two. Biff, being the everlasting child he was, tried to catch you attention, trying stupid ass things after the other: kicking your shins, pulling your ears of hair, flicking your head, and even trying to tug on the 50′s style dress you’d been forced to wear to play your part. 

Only when he goes to tug your hair once more is when you finally snap, turning a furious glare to the hulking figure beside you, shoving his shoulder in a feeble attempt to create distance. He giggles at this, his body not moving an inch at all. “You can’t be serious right now! You don’t know when to quit it, do you?!” you scream, fed up with his shit.

“Well, if you’d give me the human decency of turning your head when I’m trying to talk to you, then I wouldn’t have to pester you, now would I?” he asks in a teasing tone, no doubt taunting you, but all you do is stare him down, getting lost in a staring contest, daring him to say something again. “Alls I wanted to say was that we have detention together. Just thought I’d let you know since you got me in all that trouble this morning.”  

“Why you-!” And with that, he gets up with a shit-eating grin plastered to his face, prancing out of view and back to the table he and his gang usually sit. Watching the whole interaction, George smirks at Marty, the pair giving an unspoken mutual agreement to whatever they had both caught on to, bursting into fits of laughter moments later. 

“You have a longer tolerance than I do, I-I-I’ll tell you that much,” George says, his usual slight stutter back in place, Marty laughing once more. As George joins in again, you couldn’t fight it either, giving into the childish antics.

///LATER///

To say your week had gotten any better than the first day was a lie. It hadn’t gotten any better, and your meetings with Biff at lunch had only gotten all the more common and all the more infuriating. He’d made it his duty to agitate you in any ways possible, even resulting in whispering something nagging in your ear when you weren’t paying attention, usually doing something in your locker.

Either way, he was on the countdown to Friday, it being constantly on his mind, mentally counting down the days, hours, minutes, and even seconds until the two of you were locked in a room alone.

Unfortunately, that day had seemed to come way faster than you’d like, Friday rolling around quite quickly. School had finished, and you were making your way to the front office, awaiting a tiring 2 hours with only yourself and Biff as company for the time being. You hadn’t known where the room was, and instead of spending time looking for it, you gave up and looked for the office instead, the nice front desk lady leading you where you needed to go.

Upon entering the room, there was Biff in his prime, casually spread across his chair, legs crossed atop his desk nearest the windows. Sighing, you ignore him, deciding to sit on the opposite side of him, the front desk lady giving you a sympathetic smile before she closes the door behind her. You look at the wall, head turned away from him like the plague.

You knew it’d only last so long until he’d speak, the time coming way faster than you pleased. Given it was Friday, you couldn’t even do homework or even study in order to block him out as he started to blabber, running his mouth over stupid shit once more. Inhaling through your nose, and exhaling through your mouth slowly, you straighten in your seat, hands clutching the desk so tight, your fists turned white. 

“Biff, Sweetheart, Baby, Doll Face, Hun. Please. PLEASE. Shut up for five god damn seconds. I know you truly have nothing to say, so why do you insist on speaking so much?” you finally say, hands prying off the desk to turn in his direction exasperated. 

“Well, if you’d just talk to me, Shortcake, I wouldn’t have much to say at random,” he answers, copying your actions and posture. With this change in childish demeanor, you give in, laughing at him in an unexpected rush, running your hands through your hair tiredly. 

Although you hadn’t seen it, he’d smiled in satisfaction upon seeing you laugh, the glitter in your eyes much more captivating than it ever was when he looked at Lorraine. He hadn’t barely pestered her since you’d barreled into his life. It was weird, but he welcomed it with open arms. And for the first time, he learned what it was like to have an actual, clammy-handed, closed throat, warm, cheek-tinted, teenage crush. A crush that left his heartbeat loud and fast, breathing ragged and uneven, and his behavior out of character and out of his control. Lorraine was way under whatever level he’d placed you on, holding you up on a pedestal like you were the sun or sky.

Of course, you hadn’t taken notice to his antics, just thinking he was annoying. Just Biff being his notorious self. But, as you finally calm your breathing down, the giggles fading, you decide to give him a chance, knowing that sitting in silence is just going bore you. Smiling warmly, you say, “So what do you want to talk about then?” 

///LATER///

Grabbing your bag, you get out of your seat, giggling at a story Biff had told you. He follows your lead as well, getting his own as he lets out a bark of laughter at a certain part. You guys looked like idiots as you shoved each other down the halls, making your way out of the school as your detention had came to a close. Sighing as the warm sun radiated on your skin with the light, spring breeze, you stretch out any kinks the classroom chairs and desks had left. Biff watched you intently, your small body easily swallowed by his shadow beside you.

The sun was setting and it was getting late, although you weren’t concerned. The boys knew you wouldn’t be home ‘til late due to the detention you had initially despised. Now, you and Biff were side by side, walking peacefully to his car in the school’s parking lot. For once, he was quiet, great company to have. It was something else for sure, but you enjoyed it. As you came up towards Doc’s place, you’d realized that Biff had drove you home like a gentleman, too lost in the conversation to notice earlier on. 

Sheepishly, you itch the back of your neck, realizing your mistake and feeling guilty for making him walk all this way to now have to walk all the way home. “Ah- Sorry...I didn’t realize I’d dragged you all the way out here. Now you have to drive all the way back.”

“It’s no problem, really. I liked it. It’s nice to talk to someone other than the guys every now and then. And to have A female speak to me instead of screaming,” he answers, now being the one who is a bit shy.

“You do know that you bring that on yourself right?” you say teasingly, now leaning your head on your hands, propped up on the passenger side door. “Not every girl would want to kick you in the groin if you showed a little more respect, “ you finish off with a smile.

“Yeah...Yeah I know. I’ll try harder, I swear.”

“That’s all I ask,” you say with a wink, drumming your hands on the door as you take a step back, waving as you start walking down Doc’s driveway.

“Hey!” Biff calls from the car, stopping you in your tracks to turn around, facing him with a smile. “Uhm- Well- The Enchantment Under the Sea Dance is coming up next week...Would you mind being my date?” he asks, stuttering as he feels his cheeks heat up, nervous as hell.

“I’d love to!” you answer, turning back around to walk into the house. Biff does a little fist bump as he puts the car back in gear, excited for what is to come.

///

Marty was a little less than amused with this newfound knowledge once entering the door and going over the events of the day. It was only when Doc had suggested that the date with Biff would keep him away from Lorraine, giving George the freeway to attract her long enough for their True Love’s Kiss. Then, and only then, did Marty give the okay, shaking his head, but liking the fact that it’ll give George some time, being the nerd that you know and love.

///Enchantment Under the Sea Dance///

Checking yourself over in the mirror for the final time, you let out a nervous yet satisfied sigh, feeling like an absolute princess. You never minded dresses too much, although you couldn’t deny the fact that normal pair of shorts, jeans, or even leggings were your first choice. All that mattered was that you liked the dress you were wearing, it fit you; it was your favorite color, length, and strap(less) type to hold everything in.

Walking out, you grab the pair of heels to match, knowing that you couldn’t get away with sneakers in this generation, painfully grimacing at the reminder. Finally standing, you recount when you had gotten the dress just a few days ago, having gone with Lorraine and the her two friends, Babs and Betty. They were very endearing and supportive the whole time, you not having to worry about being “to picky” as they were just the same. You ended up loving the dress given that you’d taken the time without pressure.

As you walked into the main room of the garage, you heard a low whistle of Marty, Doc slapping him on the back of the head for it. Giggling, you curtsy and spin in the dress. Doc, the gentleman he always was, compliments you, “You look amazing, my dear. Let’s hope this boy deserves it, hmm?” 

As an answer, you hug him tightly, knowing that, by the end of the night, he will be nothing but a dead man at home, in a lonely, dark parking lot. Your eyes tear up just at the mere thought of it, clutching him tighter. Marty seems to be on the same wavelength, going to interrupt the moment with great urgency, trying to pass him a piece of paper.

“Marty, if this has anything that involves my future, do not. And I repeat, DO NOT try to hand it to me. Whatever happens, happens young man. That’s how the world works,” he says in a warning tone. You wanted to disagree, but you knew the truth that was laced beneath it, as if it was a punishment. You whimper instead, pulling him in tighter; Marty looking down in defeat, soon switching to anger. In the midst of it, he storms out of the garage, getting in the car to go pick up who you’d hope was Lorraine for the dance.

“Just let him go...” you start, sadness evident, “He’s just not very happy with the outcome of what the future has in store for you. Quite frankly, neither am I.”

“I’m sure whatever the outcome is, that I wanted to go with it, dear. I assure you, I’m fine,” Doc answers in a consoling tone, wiping the tears that had slipped from your eyes. You knew it was just a mask, no one wants death, but you knew he needed to go no matter how much you hated it. So you nod, not having to say much more as a honk sounds from outside.

“That’s Biff...” 

“Have a great time! Make sure the McFlys kiss!” Doc screams, following out of the garage, scolding Biff from behind you.

“Yes sir!” you scream back, saluting him as you take a seat in the passenger.

///

“You look beautiful Y/N,” Biff says after a while, finally working up the courage to speak.

“Thank you Biff. And you look handsome yourself,” you giggle, the car pulling into the lot. 

He shuts the engine, grabbing his keys from the ignition and closing the door, making his way around to you as you let yourself out to straighten yourself out. He takes your hand as he leads you to the entrance of the dance, you sighing in relief as you catch a glimpse of Marty pulling up in a car with Lorraine. Finally, you relax, grasping on Biff a little lighter and with more meaning now as you have the night to yourselves. He smiles down at you as you wrap your arm within his, something Lorraine does with you quite often.

With the party in full blast, you let loose with the music, dancing and joking around with Biff. At some point, however, he says he needs a drink and will be right back. Although, he doesn’t seem to actually come back. You’d thought you’d seen him spiking the punch just as few moments ago.

Just as you were going to in the direction of the hallways to the rest of the school, you notice Match, one of Biff’s friends, storming out of the gym through an exit. Taking your bets, you follow behind him, soon being greeted by a huge commotion of screams, all of them from familiar people. Biff was in a car with Lorraine, her dress pulled and taken off in parts. He was no doubt about to do something stupid, the fact pissing you off, saddening you in some ways as well.

The others that were screaming were also George and Marty, the pair trying to get Biff to stop before he regrets it. He doesn’t listen, unfortunately, until your voice booms over the rest, “Biff!” 

His head snaps instantly in your direction, the situation dawning on him the instant he looks at your face. You hadn’t meant to portray your emotions so clearly, but your face had shown such distraught and hurt. He lied. He had gotten over Lorraine, yet the moment she was alone, he runs right back to her.

With his momentary change of focus, George finally steps in, “You get your filthy hands off of her!” finishing with a blow to the jaw that knocks Biff off balance. 

Marty looks to you sadly, but tries to smile in cheers as George and Lorraine leave together, motioning that he was going to follow them just in case. You nod, looking down now as your play with your fingers. You didn’t know what to do now as the only reason you were really here was for Biff. You weren’t needed for Lorraine and George, you knew Marty had it.

You decide to make your way home then, as there was nothing else you could do. Dances were just drags anyway, nothing worth while. “Your just going to leave? Just like that?” asks a deep voice, his body having gotten back off the pavement and stood by the car he was pinned against.

Without turning, you answer his question with another, “Why not? There’s nothing left here for me is there?”

“And why wouldn’t there be?” Biff asks once more, no doubt ticking you off at his usual teasing tone.

“Well, let’s see. You. You asked me to the dance as your plus one. I came here as your date. We have a good time, we dance, we talk, and then you come up with an ‘Oh I need a drink’ charade, not returning. Then, I come to find my date in the parking lot, about to get his licks in on a woman he was apparently over with! So tell me, what is left here for men here, Biff?” you finish, tears pooling your eyes over the time, although you don’t let the fall, keeping them there.

He looks guilty, you can see it, but you don’t care. Your not in the wrong this time. But, as your blood starts to cool down, you do notice the look in his eyes, the change in his demeanor, and the utter remorse that has overcome him. He has his head down, fists clenched at his sides, body stock still. He doesn’t know what to do, all he knows is that he’d fucked up.

“Or was this your fabulous way of telling me that you love me?” you finally ask, eyes moving to look up at him in a teasing manner.

He hadn’t expected you to speak, head snapping up to meet your gaze in confusion. Being as you’d looked at him with a glint in your eyes, he finally lets everything click together; you’d forgiven him. His face heats up in bashfulness however, as your words resonated within him as well, hand going to itch the back of his neck again.

You giggle, walking up to him now, hands going to his collar. Pulling him down, he gazes at you in amazement, his own hands falling to rest on your waist. Then, you crash your lips to his, pulling him ever closer. It takes him a moment to get the hang of it, soon pulling you closer to himself as well. Lifting you slightly, he sets you on the hood of his car, the height difference a definite stretch for him. But he wouldn’t have it any other way, you were perfect. Just the same as he was perfect for you.

[manonblaqkbeak]

Motel Living

this idea would not leave me alone, despite me having like three other fics barely done. it is very random. i dont even know what to say lol.

2554 words

enjoy!

Today was officially the one month anniversary of Aelin moving into a three-star motel. She did not think she'd be here for long, a couple of weeks at most, but here she was a month later, and on a Friday night no less. She should have been out with her friends, but she opted to stay inside.

She had to tell herself that she shouldn't complain. That there were people that were worse off than her. Living in a motel was fine.

But it still didn't change the fact that Aelin wished she wasn't living in a motel room. Especially one that was popular with long haul truckers whose snores sounded like chain saws and blenders on the highest level. That right now, down in the restaurant/pub that was only six doors down, an important football game was playing and the patrons inside were cheering wildly.

Aelin missed the house that she had been renting the last three years. Last year she had decided to start saving so that she could purchase the house itself, since it was still on the market since the day she moved in. It was hard, but Aelin was a determined woman and she set her sights on purchasing the house—she felt like she practically owned it anyway—up until the day she received a call from the real estate agency telling her that the house had been purchased and she had to move out.

Aelin disliked crying, but the waterworks started the minute she hung up. She really did love that house. Had created a small vegetable and herb garden to make it feel more homely. Made it hers in the three years she had occupied it.

There was a tiny silver-lining, however, since the new owners were coming from the other side of the continent, she had plenty of time to pack and move out.

But that silver-lining quickly disappeared once she started her search for a new home in-between packing and work. Every apartment, every house, every unit she looked out at was taken by the time she handed in her application. Every inspection starting to become fruitless when she knew that she wouldn't be the one to live in it.

Aelin hadn't realised that the market had become so cut-throat. She knew she was the perfect applicant because in all her years renting she never missed a single day, never received a complaint. Even when the landlord dragged his ass to fix something, Aelin kept her temper in its leash and did not throttle him the way she wanted too.

And as her luck ran out and Aelin had started to truly worry about where she was going to live because while she had multiple people in her life, she quickly realised that she couldn't ask any of them if she could move in for multiple reasons:

Aedion and Lysandra were recently married, and Aelin hadn't wanted to burst their newlywed bubble.

Chaol and Yrene were brand new parents, their baby girl born the day Aelin moved out, and she knew the last thing they wanted was someone else in the way.

Nehemia was in the same position as her, but her parents had invited her back home while Nehemia looked for somewhere else. Aelin's parents were dead, and her childhood home had been destroyed in a wildfire a five years ago, and Aelin had used the insurance money to pay off her debts. She cursed herself now for doing that, but Aelin hated being in debt and she did what she had too.

Fenrys lived in a one bedroom unit and had the worlds most uncomfortable couch, so he was out. And while Fenrys was one of her best friends, she didn't really talk with Connall, his twin. Nor did she often talk with Vaughn.

Dorian and Manon were travelling all over Erilea and Dorian's younger brother Hollin was house-sitting. Aelin couldn't stand Hollin for more than a few minutes at a time and she would rather live in the motel for a year than live in with him.

And then there was Rowan. He had been a close friend for years, until five months ago they decided that they had liked each other too much to keep being friends and officially started dating (at Lysandra and Aedion's wedding, of all places). If they had been together for longer, she would have asked him—but she didn't want to rush anything, because Aelin could so clearly see a future with him and she didn't want to hurt that future by moving in far too early in their relationship.

So that left Elide, her lifelong friend that was more like a sister. Elide was purely on the bottom of the list since she knew her friend cherished living alone after living in a shit-hole with her even shittier uncle—but Aelin knew Elide and if Aelin needed a place to stay, then Elide's door would be wide open. The two had gone to lunch and Aelin had been just moments away from telling Elide everything and asking for a world changing favour.

Until Elide had excitedly announced that Lorcan was going to move in.

And Aelin's plan had deflated. Again, Aelin knew that if Elide was aware of how desperate she was, Elide would invite Aelin to stay, but since Lorcan and Aelin didn't particularly get along, Aelin kept her mouth shut and congratulated her friend for the new milestone in their relationship.

So, all her options completely exhausted, Aelin looked for vacant motels, found that this was the best out of all the options and became a long-standing tenant.

Aelin had managed to keep everyone away from her new apartment by claiming that it wasn't ready for visitors. Most knew that Aelin was house-proud, a trait that she had inherited from her late mother, so they knew that when Aelin was ready, she would invite them.

It was getting hard, however, to keep Rowan away. Each date night and hang out ended up at his apartment and Rowan was becoming curious as to how her new place was looking.

Rowan wasn't judgemental, and he wouldn't look down at her for living in a motel room, but Aelin was the problem; she was too proud to show him her new place. Even when she was at her lunch with Elide, she had to beat down her pride at just the mere thought of asking Elide if she could move in.

Tonight, however, Aelin knew in her bones that Rowan would ask to come over. He had a completely shitty day at work—one that ended up in the hospital because for the first time in his career as a carpenter, Rowan had somehow gotten his hand in the way of his nail gun and shot right through the middle of his palm and was off work until it healed, which Rowan hated the most out of the whole ordeal, since Rowan was the type of person that always had to be doing something.

So when his face finally popped up on her phone screen, Aelin muffled a groan into her pillow (because there was no way in hell she was using the standard sheets the motel provided, she needed her bedding or she wouldn't get any sleep), took a deep breath and plastered a smile onto her face.

“How's the hand?” she asked by way of greeting.

“It'd be a lot better if there wasn't a hole in it,” was his groggy reply. “I just woke up from the longest nap and thought of you.”

“That's sweet of you to say,” Aelin said, “do you want me to come over? I could cook you my world famous grilled cheese.” Please say yes, she thought, please.

“As much as I love the sound of that, I just need to get out of my house,” Rowan said, “I know that you're house-proud and if you don't want me to see it, I understand, I'll even wear a blind fold if that'll make you happy, but I just...” he trailed off and Aelin could see his pained expression even though they were miles apart.

“Seeing all your work tools is making you miserable,” she supplied. Rowan grunted in confirmation. Taking a deep breath, Aelin said, “You can come over, I don't mind. I'd be happy to see you.” And she would be. She'd just have to kick her pride in the corner. “There's a pub right around the corner from mine and the cheeseburgers they have are really fucking good, and I mean that sincerely. Do you want me to get you one? Because I only have snacks and canned food at the moment.”

“A burger sounds good, with extra tomato, please.”

Aelin smiled. “Of course, I'll text you the address, and I'll see you soon.”

After ordering their dinner, Aelin tidied up (even though the space was immaculate) and waited, and waited. When a gentle knock sounded at her door, Aelin took the food from the restaurant worker and was just about to go back in when Rowan's truck pulled up.

Even ten car spots away, Aelin could see his puzzled expression from where she stood. Placing the food on the small, round dining table, Aelin waited by the door and gave Rowan her best smile when he stood in front of her.

His puzzled expression melted away momentarily when she kissed him hello, but it was back in full force when they pulled away.

“Fireheart,” was all he said, and it said everything that he didn't say.

“I know.”

“You're living in a motel room.” There was no judgement in his voice, like she knew there wouldn't be, but it was clear that he was confused about the whole thing. She should have just told him. She loved her late mother, but really hated the fact that she had passed her pride to Aelin. She hated the fact that, deep down, she was embarrassed, even if Aelin told herself that she had no reason to. The housing market was insane, there was no where else for her to go, and that she hated herself for not saving more money to buy her home of three years.

“I am,” Aelin said, “but it's not so bad. It's affordable and clean.” Aelin invited him inside and sat him down the small dining table.

From his spot, he took in the space. Saw the bar fridge that could barely hold a bags worth of cold food, her toaster oven and the dual butane stove she had to purchase because she didn't want to have to use the toaster oven all the time. The tiny closet that held a decent amount of clothes, but didn't make a dent in her considerable mountain of clothes that she had put away in the storage unit she was renting.

None of her candles were in sight and no books either. Aelin was taking full advantage of her library apps, but it wasn't the same. Aelin loved the feeling of a book in her hands, but there was no space and it would have been silly to bring in her bookcases.

“Where's all your stuff?”

“In a storage unit. I considered living in there, but it doesn't have an air-conditioner and this place does.”

Before Rowan could say anything, Aelin turned on the TV, put on whatever movie sounded dumb enough and ate her dinner.

Aelin could see the question burning in his eyes as she stuffed her mouth to avoid answering that very question.

Why didn't Aelin ask if she could stay with him?

Aelin wanted to tell him, she really did, but was afraid that if she showed how serious she was, Rowan might admit that he wasn't as serious as her.

But Aelin knew herself, knew that she was going to tell him at one point or another. She could tell Rowan anything and he wouldn't flinch. It was her own doubt stopping her.

“That really is the best burger I've ever had,” Rowan said when he was finished.

“It really is,” was all Aelin could think of to say. Gods, she felt so damned awkward. The question was still in Rowan's eyes, even as he laughed at the movie and its stupidity. So to avoid it for a bit longer, Aelin took the take-away boxes into the dumpster outback and immediately went for a shower afterwards.

When she came out, Rowan was lounging on her bed, his injured hand laying across his chest, the other arm fiddling with her comforter. Aelin dressed in a shirt that she may have borrowed without asking from Rowan and a pair of sleep shorts.

Borrowing underneath her comforter, Aelin rested her head on Rowan's chest and the awkwardness she felt deflated a bit as he pressed a kiss on her head.

Aelin told him how she ended up here. Including her embarrassment and annoyance at herself. Rowan listened attentively, as he always did. That was one of the biggest things she loved about him, that he listened. And Aelin was in love with him, she knew without a doubt. She was certain she fell in love with him when he danced with her at Aedion and Lysandra's wedding.

When the credits started to roll, Aelin took a deep breath and decided to plunge into uncharted territories. She kept her eyes glued onto the screen.

Aelin decided to bite the bullet. If it all went to hell, she would beat herself up later.

“I don't want to fuck things up with you.” Well, that wasn't how she wanted to start this conversation, but she supposed it was the best way to start off. “I wanted to ask you if I could move in, but our relationship is just so new, and I didn't want to ruin our future, because I can see a future with you, Rowan.” Moving so that she could look Rowan in the eye, Aelin took the deepest plunge imaginable and told him, “I love you, Rowan. I'm in love with you.”

The smile he gave her was the most beautiful she'd ever seen. “I love you, too, Aelin.” Reaching down to kiss her, all of Aelin's doubts melted away. When he pulled back, Rowan said softly, “If you wish to ask, I'll say yes. Because I see a future with you too. You're the one for me.”

“Rowan, can I move in with you?”

He kissed her again. “Yes, you can.”

Aelin's cheeks were started to become sore from all her smiling. Maybe it was a good thing after all that she ended up living here.

Hours later, after another bad movie and celebrating the new milestone in their relationship (which was mainly Aelin laughing as she rode Rowan because he kept forgetting about his injured hand), Aelin and Rowan got ready for bed, and as Aelin rested her head on his chest again, she said, “Just to let you know, I'm going to replace your mattress for mine, because yours is hard as stone.”

“That's exactly why I'm letting you move in, I'm in the market for a new mattress.”

Aelin playfully whacked his chest and muttered what a buzzard he was, but soon fell asleep with a smile on her face, ready for her future with Rowan.

[princess-of-riviaa]

Claiming

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Erin Quincy (1st person POV)

Summary: You experience your first heat as a brand new shifter. Walter, being the good alpha he is, helps out his struggling omega.

Warning(s): depictions of animal attack, age gap (Erin is 25, Walter is 38), alcohol use, a bit of angsty Walter, dirty talk, possessiveness

Author’s note: This is my first piece of work I made for the ABO Universe. I hope you guys like it!

Word count: 3,931

Two weeks ago, I’d been on a camping trip with my two step-brothers, Scott and Chris, when my life had forever changed. One second, the hiking trail had been clear and safe; the next, some kind of animal was jumping out of the brush and fighting my breakfast sausage out of my hands. I later learned that the animal had been a wolf, but that realization only came when I had my first Shift three days later.

Though the night had escaped my memories, when I woke up in an unfamiliar mansion to an unfamiliar group of faces the next day, they filled me in on the details. The man in front—tall, with deep brown curls that were almost as distracting as his thick, muscular shape—had told me that I had Shifted the night before and ended up on their doorstep. And yes, Shifters—not werewolves, as most fantasy books called them—were real, Walter informed me during my surprised silence.

Walter Marshall—that was the stunning stranger’s name. He was an Alpha of one of the two packs that lived in this mansion, and I was more than welcome to join them. I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around what had become of myself—and I knew better than to hope that my family would understand—so I accepted the generous offer.

I had been with the pack for three weeks now. Winnie Marshall, Walter’s twin sister, was the Alpha for the mansion’s other pack. Walter had found me first—he had actually been the one to stop me from giving into my animalistic instincts on the night he found me, and had been the one to bring me in from the pouring rain—and technically had claim to me. But, because I hadn’t officially been claimed by him, Winnie argued that she had as much right to me as her brother did. So she took me under her wing. She’d explained everything to me, been there in my moments of panic and embarrassment to assure me that everyone goes through this, and it’s not going to last forever.

The only other two people in the house that were my age were two betas. One of them, a young man named Mike (though everyone called him Mikey), was the center of attention at the mansion, though he surprisingly had his eyes set on the quiet girl who loved books. Her name—I met her last, simply because she’d locked herself in the library for a week-long reading challenge—was Amber Connelly. As the only other beta under the age of thirty, she had an… interesting relationship with Mikey. And by that I mean they were both head over heels for each other, though they only ever bickered, and neither of them seemed aware of the others’ feelings. But they never acted on their feelings, and no one ever expected them to, simply because Mikey was Walter’s Beta, and Amber was Winnie’s, and packs didn’t mix, especially if their was a chance of a Claiming.

Claiming—that was the part of all of this that had intrigued me the most. It started with a bite. One person had to bite their partner directly over the heart, hard enough to leave a scar that would be there forever. In another sense, one wolf had to mark their partner as their territory. It was possessive in every sense of the word, and I couldn’t deny that deep down inside of me, I wanted to share that intimate, lifelong promise with Walter.

It was insane for a number of reasons. Not only had I met the Alpha just a few weeks ago, but I wasn’t even officially in his pack, and a Claiming with an Alpha would make me second-in-command. There were a few steps I would be skipping if that happened. Not to mention that Walter Marshall was the only unclaimed Alpha over the age of thirty-five in the entire city, and there was a reason for that. I didn’t know the details, but I knew it had something to do with his past. Our age was another factor. He was almost 40, while I had just turned 25.

And yet, here I was, wanting his mark anyways. He was quiet and reserved enough to make him mysterious, and that only pulled me in more. In the first week I was there, I found any way I could to talk to him, mainly to thank him for giving me a safe place for this new season of life. But he had disappeared with Andy and Charles Barber—two Beta brothers—for an entire week. Winnie had only said that they were taking care of business on the other side of the city, but when the three men came back, there was a darkness to all of them that told me whatever they had been doing… It hadn’t been fun.

Walter was harder to reach in the days that followed. When I would knock on his office door and ask him if he was able to train me today—something both he and Winnie insisted on their packs doing in their daily routine—he would snap and order me to leave, the sound of his growl following me out the door. He apologized for his behavior three days later, and bought takeout from my favorite restaurant to make it up to me, but I still couldn’t forget that side of him. The side of him that turned his soft blue eyes completely black. The part of him that was all animal, only selfishness and cold edges.

And yet, even after all of that, I still wanted him. I’d lost count of the number of times I’d woken up panting in the middle of the night, rising out of a dream of those blue eyes looking down at me as he fucked my throat, making me gag and cry around his cock. The sound of my own moans had forced me awake before dawn this morning. The memory of Walter’s intense gaze holding my reflection’s as he fucked me in the bathroom had followed me all day.

I was still wound up as I made my way to the game room. The smell of alcohol was strong throughout the house. The packs were celebrating Walter and Winnie’s thirty-eighth birthday tonight, and everyone, it seemed, was intent on getting blackout drunk. There were three kegs in the living room. It took Shifters a lot longer to get drunk, so I wasn’t surprised to find that the kegs were already halfway empty by the time I filled a cup for myself.

But I was surprised to find Walter perched on the roof when I made my way up to my regular hiding spot. He didn’t look over at me when I climbed onto the roof, but he didn’t seem startled when I took a seat beside him, and I knew his Shifter senses had probably heard me before I’d even climbed up the stairs that led up here.

“I see you stole my hiding spot,” I remarked as I took a sip of my beer.

“This way my hiding spot first, actually.” There’s amusement in his eyes as he looks at me out of the corner of his eye, but the amusement is only a cover. I note the darker emotion hiding beneath, and I recognize it instantly. It’s the same thing I’ve been feeling since my first Shift.

Loneliness.

“So technically you stole it from me,” Walter continued, giving me a ghost of a smile.

Though the air was light between us for once, I couldn’t stop myself from asking, “Why are you hiding on your birthday?”

He sighed and looked out at the valley below us. The city lights reflected in his eyes, making the blue in them sparkle. He chugged back the rest of his beer before answering, “I’m thirty-eight tonight.”

“So I’ve heard.” The light tone was clearly forced, but I continued anyways. “Congratulations.”

His long fingers parted thick curls before he clutched the roots of his hair and squeezed, looking frustrated and… defeated. “I’m thirty-eight—and I still don’t have a goddamn mate.”

Oh.

I didn’t know what to do. Part of me was more than ready to say, Take me. Claim me. I’ll be your mate. But I knew that was overstepping. I didn’t know how to comfort him.

“Walter—” I began.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t burden you with this. I think I’ve had a few too many drinks.”

We both knew that was a lie. He was too collected to be drunk. Everything—save for his brutal honesty—screamed completely sober.

“I just…” He went on, then stopped himself.

I put a hand on his arm and had to physically force myself not to lean into the warmth of his body heat. When his blue eyes met mine, I nearly lost control. God, I wanted him. I wanted to ran my hands through his hair; wanted to know the way his moans sounded as he filled me up; wanted to feel his mouth on me—

I shook my head in an attempt to clear my mind. “It’s okay,” I told him. “You can tell me.”

He hesitated.

“You’ve been there for me since I got here,” I pointed out. “It’s only fair that I do the same for you.”

His eyes scanned my face, and I got the feeling that he could see into my soul. It unnerved me as much as it made me want to bear myself to him. He finally said, “You don’t owe me anything, Erin. I was being a good Alpha.”

“You let a stranger into your home,” I argued. “That qualifies as more than simply being a good Alpha. There’s other packs in the city, yet you were the only one who opened your door to me. And you’ve let me stay here when you could have just as easily sent me away. You’re not just a good Alpha, Walter, you’re…” I almost said, you’re everything, but I caught myself.

But the way he looked at me… I had a feeling that he heard what I didn’t say.

“And maybe you think I don’t owe you,” I went on, “but I want to be there for you. I want to give you whatever you need.”

His eyes left my face to stare at the hand I placed on his arm. He reached for it, and at first I thought he was going to push me away, but he simply held my hand between his own. He opened my fingers and stared at my palm as if he was going to tell me my future. A thick, calloused finger traced across the lines on my palm. The touch was simple and gentle, but it made me shiver nonetheless.

“I’m the only Alpha in the city without a mate,” he finally admitted. “That fact has never bothered me before. I always liked being on my old. I thought I was better that way. It was enough always having to keep an eye on Winnie; I never had a want for someone else to look out for.”

“But now…?” I guessed there was a “but” in that sentence.

His focus was locked on his fingers as he traced the outline of my hand. Something about the way his rough skin felt against mine… It made heat stir in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t realize I had started to lean into him until there was just a few inches of space left between us.

“But now,” he finally said, and sighed. “Now I find myself wanting something I don’t know if I can have.”

“A mate?” Why couldn’t he have that?

“You.” He finally met my gaze, just as the words clicked in my mind.

Heat made my cheeks burn bright red as I repeated his words. “M-me? What do you mean?”

“I mean I want you.” His gaze was unapologetic, yet the twist of his mouth… I could tell he was fighting some internal battle. “When I first saw you in that back alley, hiding under that shed from the rain…”

I was silent as he spoke, simply because I’d never heard all the details of what had happened that night, and Walter was the only one with that memory.

“I had Shifted too,” he admitted. “The pack Shifts together on full moons. The Omegas and some of the Betas are less overwhelmed by it if we’re all together. But something had drawn me away from the pack, like some string had pulled me out onto the streets…”

Only once he said something did I realize that I did remember a part of that night. It wasn’t a memory of what had happened, but rather… a feeling I had gotten. Like someone had been calling my name and I had gone in search of them.

“I’d never experienced anything like that before,” Walter continued. “And when I found you, shaking from fear and the cold… I knew I had to do something. The urge to protect you was overbearing. So I brought you home. I told myself it just from the intensity of the Shift that I felt like that, but when you Shifted back the next morning… I knew I couldn’t just let you walk away. So I told you to stay, and I knew that if you had said no, I would have done anything to change your mind.”

“Walter…” My voice was a quiet whisper as my thoughts began to race. “Do you think… That feeling… I felt it too. Is that what…”

“What having a mate feels like?” he guessed.

All I could do was nod. Somehow I already knew the answer, but I needed to hear him say it.

“Maybe.” When his gaze met mine, I realized he looked as lost as I felt. “I couldn’t say one way or another; I’ve never had a mate. But if it is…” He finally dropped my hand, only to cup my face and pull me towards him. “Listen to me, Erin. Even if…” He paused, as if he was struggling to say it out loud, too. “Even if we’re mates, that doesn’t mean you have to choose me. You can walk away. Hell, you can even…” He practically flinched at these words, as if saying them was a physical blow—“You can even choose someone else. Another man. I’m not going to force you into anything.”

I didn’t know what to say. “I think I want another drink.”

Disappointment flashed in his eyes, but it was gone in a blink. He rose to his feet, insisting that he get it for me. I watched him walk away. He took four steps—and froze. His entire back went rigid, too stiff for a human. His Shifter instincts had picked up on something.

I froze, wondering what was happening, what he had picked up on.

But he merely turned to face me again. Slowly. “Erin.”

I tried to sense his source of distress, but I couldn’t pick up on anything. The only thing I picked up on was how that look in his eyes sent heat straight to my core. “What is it, Walter?” I was on my feet and closing the distance between us in a matter of seconds.

“Don’t move!” he practically yelled.

I paused, almost jumping at his volume.

His eyes were wild, frantic, looking like an animal caught in a trap.

“What’s wrong?” I asked again, resisting the urge to reach out to him.

“Do you know what’s happening to you?” Every muscle in his body was taut as he asked the question.

I frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He simply said, “You’re going through heat.”

Oh.

Winnie had explained that to me on one of my first days here. She’d said it happens to every female Shifter. Her hormones—particularly the horny ones—exploded, and every male Shifter around her could sense it. Apparently, it drove the males as crazy as the females, though it was dangerous to be an Omega—specifically an unclaimedOmega—around any Alphas while in heat.

That’s why Walter wasn’t moving, wasn’t even breathing: he was trying not to pounce on me and take what he wanted. What we both needed.

All those dreams about him… They finally made sense. I was preparing for my first heat.

Only once he brought it to my attention did I realize just how hot I was. My heart was hammering in my chest, flames boiling beneath my skin, and—god, when had I gotten so wet?

“Walter…” My voice was a high-pitched whine.

“You’ll be okay.” He didn’t sound convincing in the slightest. The look in his eyes matched the relentless ferocity rising in my core.

God, I needed him. “Please…”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t, Erin. We’re both unclaimed. I won’t be able to control myself—”

I took a step towards him—and practically cried out. The burning in my core—between my legs—it was unbearable. I needed to ease the ache inside of me. My hand moved of its own accord towards my legs, and before I knew it I was touching myself over my jeans.

Walter’s eyes were locked on my hand. “Erin… you’re killing me.”

“Please, Walter,” I begged, my body no longer under my control. “I need you. I can’t breathe—”

That was when he kissed me. He wasn’t the first person I had kissed, but he felt like the first person who mattered. Our mouths molded together and I moved against him in a way that said, I’m choosing this. I’m choosing you.

“God, I can smell you,” he breathed into my neck, his low voice nothing more than a moan. “You’re already wet for me, baby.”

All I could do was moan as he pressed me against his erection. His mouth trailed down my neck, over my clavicle, and stopped over my heart.

“I want you,” I cried out as I ran my hands through his hair. “Mark me, Walter. Please.”

He brought his mouth to my chest, but he didn’t bite me like I expected him to. Instead, he brushed a soft kiss against my skin. I whined as he pulled away and moved me from his lap.

“Did I do something wrong?” I panicked, feeling like an idiot—

“No,” he assured me. “You’re… god, you’re perfect. But I’m not about to fuck you on the roof. I doubt you’ll want the entire neighborhood to hear you moaning for me.”

My face flushed instantly, but I didn’t say anything as he rose to his feet and pulled me inside, not stopping until we were in his room. An Alpha’s room was a place very few people ever saw. It was more intimate than a regular bedroom; it was stepping into his territory, walking onto his turf, and I knew that something had permanently changed between us as I crossed the threshold into the room.

The room was rather simple. A king-sized bed was pressed against the left wall. The crimson sheets were the only color in the room. The right side of the wall had a desk covered in files and papers. Newspaper clippings hung above it, stamped into the wall with thumb tacks. I didn’t have a moment to read what all the papers were about before Walter distracted me.

He arms wrapped around me as he lifted me up in the air. My legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. I clung to his shoulders, but he held me easily, as if I weighed no more than a few pounds. The show of pure strength did nothing to help the wet mess between my legs.

Walter walked us to the bed and lied me down on my back. He hovered over me but didn’t move to touch me. The longing and lust in his eyes was so vibrant, so undeniable, that I writher beneath him.

But his tone was calm as he said, “I need to ask you again. Is this what you want, Erin?”

“So much,” I breathed before pulling him against me.

His thigh moved between my legs, and he deepened the kiss as his leg pressed tightly against my core, applying pressure where I needed it most. Though our hands ran along each other’s bodies in a hungry frenzy, he kissed me differently than he had on the roof. It wasn’t rushed or desperate this time, but rather deep and slow and just as sensual. My toes curled.

I cried out as his mouth moved to my ear. He nipped at my earlobe—an action that sent shivers through my body—before whispering, “What is it, baby girl? What do you want? My fingers?”

I writhed against him.

“My mouth?”

Oh, fuck.

“Both?”

A wanton moan escaped me before I could stop it.

“Or are you already too desperate? That’s what it smells like to me. My little omega’s falling apart and I haven’t even touched you yet. You’re already desperate for me to fill your aching cunt, aren’t you, baby girl?”

His tone was different than I’d ever heard it. He spoke in a low, husky voice, and his tone was teasing but demanding at the same time. It made me dizzy.

“Already forgotten your words, omega? Has the heat gotten to your brain?” He buried his face in the crook of my neck and rubbed his nose along the skin below my ear. He was scenting me. “Or is it your Alpha who’s gotten to you?”

Instead of answering, I clawed at his clothes desperately, trying to undress him in my lustful haze. He allowed me to take his shirt off, though he undid his pants himself. His body… how was he even more impressive naked? I took one look at those sculpted muscles, at the dark swirls of hair that covered his chest and stomach, and knew that that was the kind of body that put the gods to shame. His cock bounced against his stomach as he stepped out of his underwear. It was thick and long, and as I watched the red, aching tip release pre-cum, I wondered how I could possibly fit his girth inside of me.

“My turn,” he breathed before moving to hover over me again.

One minute I was clad in my shorts and t-shirt, and the neck my clothes were in shreds on the floor. Walter’s hungry gaze made note of every inch of skin I beared for him, and I was too fucked out to feel self-conscious.

“Fuck me, Alpha,” I begged. “I need you inside of me!”

He growled before spreading my legs and pressing his length against my core. Our lips met just as he pushed inside me, and my nails dug into his shoulder at the burst of pleasure that ripped from me. His mouth was on my chest a second later, and as he kneaded my breasts in his hands, his teeth cut into the skin over my heart.

Claiming me.

...

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[anjuschiffer]

Undefined

Happy Valentine’s Day @m3owww​! Hope you enjoy it Phi!

Thanks to @eat0crow​ for organizing this exchange and Panda for helping me with the title!

Yes, I know I went overboard...

--

AO3

Marinette remembered the first time she got something from her soulmate.

It was a battery, or so she found out when she showed it to her parents.

“Maman, what’s this?” She asked her mother as she showed her the black box-like battery.

“Where did you get this?” Sabine asked, taking it and examining, wondering where her 10 year old daughter got it. After all, she didn’t recall them buying it.

“I didn’t get it from anywhere. It just...appeared on my desk.” Marinette explained, watching as Sabine showed the box to her father.

“This looks like a camera battery.” Tom gave the battery back to Marinette, then looked at Sabine, watching as she connected the dots. “Seems like your soulmate might be into photography.”

“Soulmate?” Marinette asked, staring at the battery.

Soulmates. Only five percent of the world’s population had one or rather, the ability to find theirs. They came in various forms and at different ages, so it was always hard to know if you had a soulmate link, bond or mark.

As for the Dupain-Chengs, it seems like Tom and Sabine belonged to that five percent. Sabine and Tom found out they had soulmates when they met at a flea market in Paris. The two had noticed that the timer ticking on their wrist was edging closer to 0, causing them to panic. For the two believed that it was a timer that marked the death of their soulmate. 

As the two dashed to find a place to possibly cry at, the two crashed into each other, Tom catching Sabine by her wrist to prevent her from falling. As the two apologized, it was then that they found out that they were soulmates and that the timer was counting down to when they were going to meet. Upon realizing this, they both began to laugh.

Marinette asked them why her soulmate link wasn’t like theirs, Sabine explaining that each soulmate pair had a different bond. As for Marinette, it seemed to be a lost and found link.

If either of them lost anything, say a pencil, then the other will find it.

Sabine noticed that Marinette seemed skeptical of it.

“Try throwing out the battery out the window.”

“What? No!”

“Trust me.” And so Marinette did, after preparing herself for 10 minutes. When she went outside to look for it, it was gone.

Seeing as it was true, Marinette began to purposely lose items frequently, hoping that her soulmate would get the message that she knew about him. That she was eager to meet him. But despite her hard efforts, her items never went over to her soulmate, the items landing or staying in the spot Marinette had thrown at.

Because of this, whenever Marinette would try and show her friends her bond, they half-believed her. Only one straight up thought she made up the story to get attention: Chloe.

But then again, Chloe didn’t like anyone, so Marinette kept telling her friends of her various attempts, eagerly telling them how she couldn’t wait to meet them.

--

Soulmates…as much as Tim wanted to ask his parents about it, he chose not to.

Tim looked at the tiny medallion in his hand, his fingers running over the three letters engraved on it, quickly putting it away when he heard his mother’s footsteps, quickly burying himself into his homework, pretending to flip between pages when he heard the doorknob of his room turn.

Janet walked in, Tim pretending to figure out a calculation out, quickly scribbling some nonsense onto his paper.

“I see that you’re working hard.”

“Mr.Sommers said that the next exam will cover factorization, so I thought I would do a few for practice.” Tim easily lied, adding a final number before looking up to acknowledge his mother.

She had that look again. “How long would you be out for this trip?” Janet jumped a bit. “You talked about it with Mrs.Romanov just yesterday, when you found her at the bookstore to buy some books for the flight. When we were at the storefront, remember?”

Another lie. Yes, his mother had gone to the bookstore with Tim, but the thing was that Janet had sent Tim off while she told Mrs.Romanov about her next exertion. How she told Mrs.Romanov if she knew of any nannies to take care of Tim while she was going to be out for the next two months.

Despite knowing Tim was capable of maintaining himself, she didn’t want the school to bother her again for not leaving him behind with adult supervision. It was starting to get on her nerves.

“Oh that’s right. How did I forget?” His mother recalled, not once doubting his retelling. “We’re excavating in Riqqeh, Egypt for a month.” Tim watched as his mother let out a sigh. “Probably more cemeteries, but then again, you never know until you dig.”

“I see.” Tim said, burying himself back into his homework. “Hope you find something more interesting than skeletons then.”

“I promise to bring back a souvenir, okay?” His mother walked to him, placing a cold kiss on his forehead, Tim noticing his father’s name etched on her collar bone. “Make sure to go straight to sleep after you finish that page, understood?” A nod. “Good night, Timothy.”

“Good night.” He simply said back, watching as she closed the door.

Taking out the medallion, Tim stared at it. 

He had a soulmate somewhere out there...a soulmate he dreaded to meet...and yet hoped that perhaps they wouldn’t end up like his parents…

Tim opened a secret compartment in his pencil case and placed the medallion there, thinking about it until he went to sleep.

—

Soulmates. Everyone is always eager to meet them, but no one ever tells you how to keep that same enthusiasm after you meet them…

Tim’s parents met when Janet had tagged along with one of her friend’s excavation trips, meeting Jack in Berlin.  

The minute the two saw each other, their world turned more colorful, the two becoming infatuated with one other when they found out they were soulmates. After showing each other’s names etched onto their collarbones, the two quickly planned their marriage.

Marrying in Gotham was a dream come true for Janet...but that dream lasted a mere months before the world went back to being its bland self. With each having their own dreams, careers and goals, Janet and Jack started to stray from each other. Meetings and trips took time away from one another. And the time they would see each other, they would simply talk about work, work and nothing else. Not even a single ‘want to take a break?’ or ‘how about we go out for dinner tonight?’

It was like being at another board meeting, being professional with each other.

They only drew close to one another when Janet found out she was pregnant with Timothy, Jack taking some time off work to make sure Janet had various maids checking on her before returning back to work.

On the day Timothy was to be born, Jack was there, holding Janet’s handing during the delivery. He held his son once before handing him over to Janet and leaving, mentioning about having to go back to work.

Jack would then go on to see Timothy at home, being lulled to sleep by the handmaid, telling Jack of Janet’s meeting with the board about an upcoming visit to Mexico. 

There were few times Tim actually remembered going out as a family and while from the outside it looked like any other family outing, Tim knew why they were out in the first place: rumors.

“Have you heard? Drake’s little boy was seen walking home by himself! What parent lets their child go home by themselves? ”

“Timothy? But he’s only six!”

“Heard they plan on sending him to a boarding school. Poor thing.”

While the family outings were influenced by rumors, Tim found joy in them because it was the few times he was able to go to places he had desired to go before. Like the circus....even if that one ended in a tragedy.

But even good things had to come to an end. Years went by and Timothy grew to be very independent. That was when all the maids and servants were shooed off, leaving Tim all alone. 

It didn’t help that they did indeed end up sending him to boarding school.

But Tim managed to get used to being alone, and has been for the past two years.

--

Years passed and Marinette no longer kept trying to lose her items. Despite her various attempts, she couldn’t manage to send them over to her soulmate, finding it disheartening it.

But as of these days, Marinette didn’t have the time to try it again. Or rather, she could no longer afford to lose her belongings or let them out of her sight.

While she had gotten used to getting her things taken away from her thanks to her friends borrowing them or Chloe playing a “prank” on her, getting bullied by two people at the same time was starting to take a toll on her and the brand she was trying to set for herself at the age of 15.

If she dared to let her eyes wander, then they would either fall into the hands of Chloe or of Lila’s. When Lila transferred to Dupont, Marinette didn’t honestly care about her lying, after all, they were nothing but white lies. So she never bothered to actually make friends with the girl. But even with the lack of communication, Marinette apparently did something to Lila because one day she was cornered in the bathroom and was threatened.

Marinette was kind but she knew when enough was enough.

“I would like to see you try.” She practically spat into Lila’s face before leaving the bathroom those weeks ago.

So here she was, being bullied by both her bully since l'école primaire and her new found one in lycee.

But between the two, Marinette preferred her personal things end up in Chloe’s hands than Lila’s. Chloe at least gave them back, but Lila? They never returned in one piece or even worse, they didn’t come back at all.

“Marinette? Where is your-”

“Mme Bustier...I promise you I did do it. I had it.” Marinette stabilized her voice from erupting into panic as she failed to find her assignment that she swore she had in her bag. “You can even ask Alya. She saw it.”

“That’s true Mme Bustier!” Alya quickly defended, although she wondered what happened to the paper as she saw Marinette safely tuck it away. Yes, Marinette could be clumsy, but unorganized and scattered brain? That she was not. She was meticulous, precise and always punctual. So how did that paper leave its place?

“Regardless, it’s not in my hands.” Mme Bustier sighed. “You’ll have to stay after class.” That caused Marinette to panic. She couldn’t afford to stay after school. She had a meeting with a client as soon as school ended.

“But Mme Bustier!”

“I’m sorry Marinette, but-”

“I can’t afford to stay after class! I have a very important-”

“Marinette.” Mme Bustier sternly stated. “Rules are rules. You’ll have to come after school, whether you have a very important appointment or not.”

Marinette managed to not scream as the bell rang, watching as everyone filed out, Alya lingering behind.

“Marinette, I could-” she shook her head. 

“Alya, I’ll be alright.” She gave her friend a sheepish smile. “And go on without me. Perhaps my client will understand when I explain it to them via text.” Despite Marinette’s reassurance, Alya nodded and left the classroom hesitantly.

Bracing herself for her punishment, Mme Bustier got a phone call from the main office, looking at Marinette and turning her attention back to the phone. With a few ‘oui’ and ‘be right there,’ Bustier turned to Marinette. 

“They need me for a few minutes downstairs, but that doesn’t mean you are free to go. Stay here while I check what they need from me.” Mme Bustier ordered, Marinette burying her face into her hands as she slammed herself into her desk.

She lifted her head once again, sending a quick text to her client about running late. Once that was over, Marinette took out her sketchbook to look over her designs, taking out a red pen to add some additional revisions.

She didn’t know how long she had been like that, but the moment she heard the door open, her head snapped upwards, a frown on her face when she saw Lila and not Mme Bustier.

“What do you want?”

“Nothing much.” Lila said, dragging her fingers on the desk Marinette sat at. “Just this!” She exclaimed, snatching the sketchbook from under Marinette’s hand.

“Give it back!” Marinette screamed, quickly chasing after Lila around the class.

“Oh come one Marinette! I just want to-” 

“They’re very important commision designs for a client-” Marinette attempted to reason, almost grabbing it back from Lila.

“Is that so?” Lila hummed, quickly opening the sketchbook and looking at the designs. “Wow. You weren’t kidding!” A grin made its way to her face. “It’d be too bad if something bad happened to it.”

Marinette’s eyes widened and the next thing she knew, she had managed to grab the sketchbook from Lila.

“There’s no way in hell I would let you.” Marinette said in a low voice.

“Oh? Then let’s see you try!” Lila yelled, attempting to grab the sketchbook from Marinette. 

The two waltzed away from one another as Marinette kept her sketchbook away from Lila’s grasp. The two were on each other’s toes  until Marinette had to run around the classroom, having to knock over Mme Bustier’s chair to keep Lila away from her when she got too close to comfort.

“Come on Marinette! I just want to see-”

“No way in hell Lila!” Marinette screamed, feeling as Lila dug her nails into her shoulder when she ended up cornering her by the windows, Marinette trying her best to not wince at the pain.

The two girls kept clawing at one another until Marinette couldn’t keep Lila at bay anymore, trying to find a way to keep her sketchbook safe from Lila. As Lila kept pushing her, Marinette’s hand hit the window, almost knocking down the metal rod that was used to pull down the shades. That’s when it hit her. 

Taking in a deep breath, Marinette kicked Lila away from her, ingraining Lila’s expression of surprise into her memory. As Lila goy up and charged to grab the designer’s sketchbook, Marinette flung it behind her head, silently praying for its safety. 

After all, everytime she had tried to lose an item, it never worked. But this time, just this one time, she hoped it would work.

Meanwhile, Lila watched as the sketchbook flew out the window, watching as it fell down to the ground, only to disappear before it hit the grass outside. 

Lila stepped back, her eyes darting from the missing book to the panting Marinette who glared at her with daggers for eyes.

“Not this time Lila. Not this time.” The classroom door opened, causing both girls to look at the doorway.

“What is going on here?” Mme Mendeleiev practically shouted, causing Lila to lose all color in her face. 

Crap. 

—

Tim watched as his English teacher started to walk down the desk aisle, watching as he started to collect their writing assignment assigned yesterday.  Seeing as he was drawing near, Tim reached into his bag, when he felt an unfamiliar texture brush against his knuckles. Peering into his bag, he noticed a leather book with a red strap securing it.

Deciding to check it out later, Tim took out his assignment and handed it in, watching as Mr.Hughes simply nodded as he took it, walking down the other row of desks to take the assignment.

As class progressed, his mind drifted to one thing: the book. Tim pondered at how the leather book had gotten into his bag and who it belonged to.

Was it from someone in his class? Was it part of a prank?

He was snapped from his thoughts once the bell rang, signaling everyone that it was lunch.

Tim scurried to the school’s library, heading up to the second floor and turning a right to where his favorite spot welcomed him. A lone desk at the corner, next to a radiator that warmed him in the winter and a wonderful view of the campus as well. 

Ever since the death of his mother around a year ago, Tim was able to convince his father to pull him out of boarding school and to transfer him to Gotham Academy. He told him how it was less costly and better yet, closer to home. He agreed.

Making sure that he was comfortable, Tim took out the leather book, his fingers analyzing the bumpy leather texture. Perhaps he would find the owner’s name inside. If not, he will take it to the lost-n-found in the main office. Carefully, Tim took the red strap off the edge of the book, taken aback at the sketches on the paper.

Light feather markings under layers of darker, bolder strokes of graphite looked back at him in the shape of a dress. Side notes in French in a vibrant shade of black ink were meticulously jotted down, red ink being additional notes to the already long list of critiques. 

As he turned the pages, Tim saw one dress design after another, designs for hats, caps, shirts and even leather jackets were in there too. Names of fabrics he had never heard of before racked in his mind as Tim kept admiring each sketch. He also couldn’t help but notice the signature on each page. MDC. 

MDC.

As he reveled in the initials, trying to make sense of them, he let out a hiss as he retracted his hand from the book, noticing a small bead of blood emerged from his finger...blood?

Tim looked back at the book, noticing that there was a single needle poking out from the sketchbook’s satin bookmark, a silver medallion-

Medallion? 

There was no way.

Tim closed in on the medallion and there it was, the initials, MDC. Just like the one he found written on the rose-gold medallion he found years ago.

But why now? Why now after five years of not losing a single thing?

Time had gone by so quickly that Tim literally jumped when the bell rang for the next class, Tim quickly scrambling to gently put back his soulmate’s things into his bag and head for geometry class.

--

Thanks to the fiasco with Lila, Marientte was held back even more, leading to Marinette having to reschedule her appointment with her client.

Thankfully, the client understood the situation Marinette was just in, even going as far as waiting for Marinette to set the new meeting date. Something about having been there before.

Wrapped in a lavender scented blanket, Marinette stared at her phone screen in front of her that blinked several times before turning black. Then it would turn on again.

On. On. On. On. Off. On…. Off. On... Off...On. On...

Marinette didn’t bother to flip it over either, knowing that the vibration of the incoming calls and unread text messages were going to remind her of the incident with Lila...and how she didn’t have access to her sketchbook anymore.

Her stomach grumbled in annoyance, Marinette only then remembering not having eaten in hours and its been a long time judging form the darken sky outside.

Deciding to actually eat something before she started to feel nauseous from not eating, Marinette was surprised to see a crumpled piece of paper next to the tray of food her mom had brought her. Where did the paper come from?

Opening it up, Marinette felt her heart stop.

I don’t know why, but I have your book…

Thank god she studied a bit of English! Marinette read the next lines.

The designs...are very nice. But guessing from the notes on the last page, you need it back. How exactly do I do that?

That stumped Marinette because to be honest, she didn’t know how. Every time she had tried to before, it never worked. Only this one time where she really needed for the link to work, it worked. But...they managed to easily lose their things…

Grabbing a piece of paper, Marinette wrote back, crumbling it and headed towards her skylight. Opening the hatch a bit, she threw it, going back to her food, hoping it got through.

--

Tim was minding his own business, listening to NIghtwing give the squad a run down of their latest problem when he eyed a crumpled up paper by his foot. Hoping no one would notice it, he quickly placed it under his foot and waited for the debriefing to finish. 

Crouching to get it, it seems like he wasn’t as subtle as he had wished to be as Jaime got to it first.

“What you hiding from us, compa’?” Jaime asked Tim as he uncrumpled the paper. “¿Qué diablos es esto? What is this? Can you even read this?” Jaime pointed at the French written on the paper. 

“Yes, I can.” Tim said, huffing when Bart leaned onto his shoulder, peering into the note in Tim’s hands.

“Why am I not surprised?” Jaime said. “Not only are you super smart, but now you’re bilingual too? Let me guess, you're actually multilingual?”

“Actually, he is.” Bart chimed in. 

“No manches güey. Seriously?”

“If I remember correctly: Spanish, Cantonese, Russian-”

“And German.” Tim finished, quickly picking up his pace. “Now if you excuse me, I have a few things to do.”

“Hey! At least tell us what it says! Andale, no seas malo.” Jaime pleaded but simply got a wave goodbye for an answer. “Fine! But don’t forget about tomorrow’s mission, eh?”

As Tim left Jaime and Bart behind, he headed to the zeta tubes to head back home, thanking Alfred for the lift home, acknowledging his father as he made his way to his room.

He made a beeline for his bag, taking out the sketchbook, scared to even hold it now that he knew who it belonged to and how much it could potentially be worth.

He laid down the wrinkled paper on his desk, rereading the note.

Just lose it. Try to toss it out the window or something. That’s what I did. It’s how our link works after all. 

Tim took a deep breath, both relieved that there was a possible way to return the book and nervous it wouldn’t work.

Taking the sketchbook, he opened up his bedroom window, looked down below and took a deep breath. He took a step back and with one swift move, he tossed the sketchbook out the window, wondering if it made its way safely back to its owner.

After what seemed like an hour, Tim found a crumpled piece of paper on his desk, quickly jogging towards it and opening, feeling a wash of relief flow out of him, Tim let himself smile as he looked at the paper.

It worked! Thank you so much! My name is Marinette...what’s yours?

--

Months flew by, Marinette now being in her senior year and grinning from ear to ear as she read Tim’s latest text to her, ignoring Alya’s nagging on packing for their trip.

Ever since the sketchbook incident, Marinette found out the reason as to why she was never able to “lose” anything to give to Tim. Or rather the two reasons why the link wasn’t working.

First off, Marinette had been intentionally losing items and always had her eyes on where it would land, which actually cancelled the link. Second, Tim’s fussing over the soulmate link caused it to weaken over time, which further didn't allow Marinette to send him anything over.

Through various days of aggressively sending each other notes, Tim decided to embrace the link while Marinette assured him that she would try to keep her enthusiasm to a low. Keyword: try.

Getting tired from the constant note throwing, Marinette suggested exchanging contact info. It’s how Marinette learned that Tim was very meticulous, and that was coming from his share of contact info. He had an email, phone number, fax number all carefully labeled with even hours in which Marinette was allowed to contact him.

At first Marinette thought he was a stick in the mud, but then Tim had to explain to her about time zones and how he was still in school and afterschool programs most of the week...oops. How did she forget about time zones and school of all things?

Using Marinette’s phone number and email, Tim was easily able to know where exactly Marinette lived, but that’s all he was able to figure out. It wasn’t exactly easy to figure out more about your soulmate when an enthusiastic Dick hovered around you upon knowing about Tim’s soulmate. It got worse when Tim officially moved into Wayne Manor after his father’s death.

But even with Dick hovering like a hummingbird, Tim found texting with Marinette soothing. To have a friend outside of school, out of the Justice League, to have a friend where he could just be Tim...it was...relaxing. Especially when he heard of Lila’s moving due to her mother’s job. 

After all, it’s not like he had something to do with it. Absolutely not.

Of course, there were a few times he almost spilled the details, but he was easily able to catch himself, oftentimes redirecting it towards Marinette’s day or her latest commission.

Sometimes they would even video chat, although rarely thanks to time zones. But the few times they did, they would each ingrain each second they spent with each other, as they never knew when they were actually going to meet one day… even if it came closer than what either of them thought.

--

Tim reread his text for the umpteenth time, his mind still trying to process the message before realizing he hadn’t answered back.

Metropolis? As in, the city where the Man of Steel resides?

She...she was heading to Metropolis? In two days? 

Thank Kon for dragging him here!

Marinette: Yup! To think we were able to win Luthor’s scholarship trip! Can you believe it? I can’t wait to see what his program could offer! When I found out that Luthor was holding a scholarship trip for those who would win his Foundation for the Arts’ essay competition, there was no way I was going to let that chance go! Especially when I heard that the trip was extended to the winner’s entire class, regardless of nationality. It would basically be our second senior trip before the first one ^^

Must be very excited then.

You bet I am! 

To think...to think he would be able to see her in person… He watched as his happiness wrote for him.

--

Tim: Wanna hear something that would make the trip more exciting?

What would make this trip even more exciting?

Marinette hummed into the palm of her hand as she watched Tim type.

Tim: I’ll get to see you. Face to face. I’ll be in Metropolis for the next week...what are the odds?

Alya never saw Marinette turn red so quickly, watching as Marinette almost fell off her bed.

“Marinette! Oh my god, Nino! Help! She’s on cloud nine!”

--

Marinette fanned herself as she bit her lip, fiddling with the green ribbon she had wrapped around her wrist in case she wanted to tie her hair up.

Today was her second day in Metropolis, Marinette now nervous compared to when she first arrived the day before.

After having a tour of Metropolis University, Bustier’s class was able to have the day to themselves and as if on cue, Tim texted her if she was free even though she had already shared her itinerary with him the moment she recovered from her shock those days ago.

So now here she was, standing in Heroes’ Park, wondering if she looked foolish standing in front of Superman’s statue.

Or perhaps because she looked so out of place. Who wears a sunhat nowadays? Oh wait, she did...why exactly? Because freckles.

Marinette looked at her phone, wondering if she got the time wrong. No. She was literally a whole ten minutes early.

So why-

“You scream tourist you know.” A voice said, snapping Marinette from her thoughts. As she turned to see who it was, she felt her heart skip a beat.

He always seemed short, but...now being faced to face…

“Well, sorry for having freckles. The sun-” Marinette pouted, caught by surprised when Tim cupped her face.

“Freckles? I never knew you had them. Then again, you can’t really see them when they’re so small and through a screen at that.”

Marinette listened as her heart threatened to jump from her chest, more so when Tim realized what he was doing. Pink dusted his face. “Sorry, I-”

“I-It’s alright.” Marinette managed to find herself saying, pulling her hat closer to her face. “I...I also wasn’t expecting you to be taller than me.”

That caused Tim to sputter.

“You thought I was-”

“Hey! In my defense, I only had furniture to get some type of knowledge of how tall you were. Seems like I was wrong.” Marinette confessed.

The two stared at each other before laughing, Marinette attempting to reel in her heart with each laugh Tim let out. She didn’t think they would sound so different to what she was used to listening to through the phone. 

When the two managed to compose themselves, Tim and Marinette looked at each other again. Marinette dusted off nonexistent dust off her yellow-canary shorts, readjusting her black purse that crossed her red blouse. Tim cleared his throat.

“Well, let’s start this again.” Marinette nodded, a smile on her face. 

“Hey. My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” She comfortably answered back, clasping her hand with the hand Tim offered. “I’m happy to finally meet you, Timothy.” Tim squeezed her hands, noticing how her hand fit perfectly in his.

Perhaps this was where his parents went wrong. Perhaps this is why their relationship didn’t work...lack of communication...lack of appreciation and affection…

But he won’t let them end but like them, not when he knows how much she means to him.

Giving her hand a squeeze, Tim smiled at him.

“As am I, Marinette.”