#“I cannot BELIEVE that you held STACY’s hand”
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Barty Crouch jr
#barty crouch jr#marauders era#that’s just so him#like just imagine a random couple arguing in the library and Barry just chiming in#“I cannot BELIEVE that you held STACY’s hand”#“come on sis”#you can do better than HIM”#you BROKE HIS WAND HOW DID YOU DO THAT???”#“oh we weren’t talking about the same wand”#”but still”#”how could you DO THAT?”#”y’know what#” so do send me an owl when you’re done!”
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Jealousy and No homework
Marvel Masterlist | Full Masterlist
Requested by @moonlight-ee.
A/N: This is a little similar to the Flirtacious Incident imagine. You don't have to read that to understand this one-shot.
Summary: One thing that Peter absolutely despised was the way guys would come up to you, starting up conversations just to annoy him. Gwen - your sister - thought it was hilarious to see the way Peter would clench his fists or tense his jaw. After one conversation with a guy, it took a little more than reassuring to tell Peter you were with him.
Notes:
Y/N/N: Your Nick Name
L/F/M: Least Favorite Movie
Gwen Stacy -> your sister
Warnings: a little makeout session at the end, but nothing major!
Peter Parker x-reader
"Y/N! Get up, we're gonna be late for school!" Gwen exclaimed, knocking on the door. I rolled over in bed and groaned when my sister ushered me to get up. "Come on! Peter's going to be here in a few minutes, and you know how he gets when we're late," she continued. I pulled my comforter off and stumbled over to my dresser.
After a few minutes, I changed, looking more presentable than before. I opened my door and made my way downstairs. My younger brothers sat at the kitchen island, chowing down some waffles my mother made. "Morning, sweetheart," my father kisses my forehead with a hand reaching towards the coffee mug beside the Keurig.
Gwen walked down the steps with her brown bag over her arm. She fixed the sleeve of her suit jacket. "Cute overalls," she complimented. "Thanks. They're yours," I replied, straightening the cuff of the golden brown's cuff.
"They're what?" she said.
I ignored her statement, smirking. She turned to me with furrowed brows. "Okay. Kids, I will be a little bit late home from work tonight, so dinner is up in the air," my mother said. She handed me a cup of coffee. I sat between Philip and Simon, Gwen joining my side. My mother handed us a plate of waffles with our topping of choice.
"Alright, boys, let's get to school," my father grabbed them by the shoulders and pushed them towards the front door.
We wished them a good day at school before finishing our breakfast. During our conversation, Peter had made his way up to the front door. He politely knocked on the door. I looked over my shoulder and shot him a smile. "We'll see you after school, mom," Gwen said. Our mom kissed us on the top of the head.
She handed us each a container of our favorite fruit, telling us to share it with Peter if he wanted some. I slipped on my white keds and grabbed my backpack from the bench. "Good morning, sweet boyfriend," I bowed. He rolled his eyes playfully and put an arm around my shoulders.
"I'm here too," Gwen pointed out.
"And hello, Gwen," Peter waved. After some walking, the three of us made it to school. My boyfriend opened the door for my sister and me. We weaved through the crowds of people, finally arriving at our lockers. Thankfully, all three of our lockers were somewhat in the same spot.
Peter held my backpack as I sifted through the textbooks, trying to figure out what I needed. "Hey. I promised Flash that I'd help with Geometry," Gwen said. "You're still helping him?" I said, setting my AP literature textbook at the bottom of the locker. "Yes, I am. He really needs help," Gwen closed the door to her locker.
She hugged her books, looking at our faces. "We'll see you in Ecology then," I said. She smiled and waved goodbye before disappearing into the crowd. "Can you believe that she's still tutoring him?" Peter commented. "No, no. I cannot," I responded. He chuckled and zipped up my backpack, handing it to me.
I thanked him and slipped my arm through the strap of the backpack. He opened his own locker while I helped him with his things. "Um, excuse me," someone cleared their throat behind me. I turned around, thinking it might've been the person with the locker underneath mine.
"Oh, Theo, hey," I said. "Hey. How are you doing?" he leaned against the other locker. He crossed his arms with a smirk on his face. His red hair was slicked back with the strong aroma of hair gel. Peter looked at Theo. "I'm doing okay," I replied.
Theo smirked and nodded along. He glanced behind him like he was looking for Gwen. "So, what're you doing tonight?" Theo questioned. Peter let out a sigh and grabbed the spine of his textbook. I could sense his anger and uneasiness. "Probably just staying in," I answered. "It seems like you do that a lot," Theo replied.
Peter's grasp on the book tightened, his fingers became red, and his knuckles a pale white. I tried to hint to Theo in any way that I wasn't interested. "Yeah, well, I'm more of a homebody," I stated. "I have an extra ticket to L/F/M, if you wanted to come with my friends and me," Theo offered.
He stole a glimpse at Peter, who was trying to ignore the situation. Peter shut his locker and held onto the strap of his backpack as it sat on his shoulder. "Thank you for the offer, but I'm not interested," I declined. Theo's brows raised.
He chuckled, shoving his hands into the pockets of his light-washed jeans. "And, I've got a boyfriend, and I don't think he'd appreciate me going out with someone who wouldn't want to just watch a movie," I remarked. "C'mon, I can tell you want me," Theo insisted.
"Yeah, I want you to leave me alone," I said. I waved him goodbye and led Peter to our Geography class. We walked to the aisle where we sat, joining our fellow group mates.
_________
(After school)
Peter laid across my bed, playing with a red rubber ball. He threw it up and caught it before it fell on his chest. I tapped my pencil on my chin while we worked on our project for Literature. We were to read two short stories and then compare them. Peter was quiet when we began working.
I'd like to think that it's his way of brainstorming, but it wasn't normal for him to only say something sometimes. I looked over my shoulder to see him looking at the emoji on the front of the rubber ball.
"Okay. I've got the first comparison done, have you started on the second one?" I asked. He sat up from the bed and grabbed his opened laptop from beside him. Peter looked through the document on his computer. "What's up with you? You've been quiet since we got out of school," I said, setting my pencil beside my computer.
He shrugged his shoulders and sat up in my bed. Peter set his computer on the pillow beside him. "Has that Theo guy asked you out before?" Peter asked. I closed my computer and walked to the bed, joining his side. "I mean, yeah, but I've always said I'm not interested or unavailable," I answered.
Peter tossed the ball between each of his hands, watching it as he played. I reached over and grabbed the rubber ball from him, and set it on the bedside table. "Why haven't you ever told me?" Peter questioned. "I didn't think it was necessary. Gwen has told him off a few times, and he just stopped talking to me," I responded.
"Except for this time, when I was with you," Peter nodded. I sighed, nodding as well. I looked to the side with a smile appearing on my face. "I thought that comeback to Theo's pickup line was pretty sick," Peter said.
"Really?"
"Really," he repeated. Peter leaned in to kiss me, further preventing me from speaking. I smiled against his lips with my hands pressing onto the mattress. Peter's hands rested on my waist, lightly pushing my green tank top.
Peter and I continued to kiss as articles of clothing were being thrown all over the place. The feeling of Peter’s lips trailed up the side of my neck. I yelped slightly when Peter leaned back and flipped me over. He hovered over me with a smile on his face. "I just can't believe you got jealous," I spoke.
"I wasn't jealous," he insisted. "Mmm, I think you were," I said, grabbing his collar to join my lips with his again. So, for the rest of the afternoon, we didn't get our homework done.
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#marvel#marvel's spiderman#andrew garfield#andrew garfield x-reader#andrew garfield imagines#andrew garfield one shot#andrew garfield peter parker#peter parker#peter parker x-reader#peter parker imagines#peter parker oneshot
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“Sharky” *Part 9*
Okay it might end up only being 10 chapters, DEPENDING on what happens in the next chapter-- which guys, you’ll never see coming. Never in a million years. MWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!
Also-- I don’t know if you care but the beginning scene/paragraph was written based on the scene in Grey’s Anatomy when Burke leaves Cristina at the altar and she has a panic attack/breakdown in her wedding dress. Just for reference, that’s what it’s supposed to look like. Don’t know who will understand that or not, but if you wanna YouTube it it’s very powerful. [To me.]
TAG LIST:
@wanniiieeee
@gibbs274
@word-scribbless
@dumauier
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Chapter List Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
Part 10
-----
You made it halfway down the street before you felt your breathing increase, your body temperature rose by the second. In seconds you were hyperventilating, stuck in a damn leather trap of a dress. You were having a full on panic attack and you physically couldn’t breathe in the tight leather bodice. You had no idea what to do, you had literally never felt this panicked and scared and upset in your entire life. You tried desperately to rip off your sleeves at the very least, clawing at them while sobbing like a crazy person. But you were fighting a losing battle, and you felt yourself falling down to your feet.
Your eyesight was blurry through tears but you managed to crawl into a nearby alley, still sobbing loudly and trying to breathe. You really thought you were going to pass out, and some creep would probably come and find your unconscious body in the alley and do sick stuff to it, and you’d be on the news at 11.
You kept gasping for breath, now wrestling with the zipper on the back of your dress. You needed this OFF, and you needed it off NOW. You felt yourself losing consciousness, when a pair of hands caught you from behind.
“What do you need?” The voice asked. You were certain this was a rapist, but why was he asking what you needed?
“I...can’t….I can’t….” You sobbed, flailing your arms towards your back. You felt the hands unzip your dress just far enough that you could pull it off to rip your arms out of the sleeves and just hold it up over your breasts so you weren’t standing there half naked. Finally able to breathe you finally just sobbed while this person held you from behind, their head was pressed into your back and you could hear their words muffled but clear:
“I’m so sorry...I'm so sorry…”
You finally looked down and realized the pair of hands that were holding you, and your panic went straight back to rage. You broke free from their grasp and spun around to see Rafael hunched over, clearly surprised by your sudden turnaround.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” You screamed at him, causing people walking by to look in concern.
“You were having a panic attack! You nearly collapsed in the street! What was I supposed to do just walk back into the party and leave you to die?” He said loudly so people would know he had been trying to help you, not rape you.
“YES!!!”
“Oh come on Y/N---” He tried to help you steady yourself on your heels, but you ripped them off and tossed them at him.
“No!!!” You screamed. “I told you to leave me alone, Rafael for fuck’s sake! Just go back and be with your girlfriend--” You started to walk away.
“I don’t want her, I want you!!!” He yelled, making you stop in your tracks.
“Well you sure have a hell of a way of showing it!” You turned back around and yelled angrily.
“Look, Y/N...God, I don’t know how this got so fucked up…” He shook his head as he paced the alleyway.
“Right because nothing is ever your fault,” You scoffed with a roll of your eyes.
“I’m not saying that! I--” He sighed and stopped pacing to look at you. “Look, I was really low, and upset about you, and Liv and I were drinking, and--”
“So your solution to getting over me was to bond with the person who sabotaged us in the first place? Real sound logic there, counselor,” You said in a mocking tone.
“Look I get what she did was wrong, but she’s also been my best friend for a very long time, and I just-- I don’t know, I focused on that part,” He looked down.
“How? How can you just sit there and make excuses for her--”
“I’m not making excuses for her, I fucked up okay? I was drunk, and sad, and I ignored my angry feelings at Liv and one thing led to another…”
“Oh for Christ’s sake Barba really? One thing led to another? You PURPOSEFULLY slept with the ONE person you knew I’d never forgive you for!”
“That’s not true!!!” Rafael argued. “I’m not dismissing my behavior, but I swear to you it was NOT my intention to hurt you--”
“Really? So what did you just think I’d never find out about you and her?”
“No I just-- look the next morning she was just so happy, and I was too much of a coward to tell her that I was just missing you and--”
“For fuck’s sake Barba are we in 10th grade? You ‘accidentally’ sleep with your best friend and then just date her because you can’t tell her the truth? And I’m just supposed to believe that?”
“It’s the truth!” He yelled. “I’m not proud of it, but it is the truth. I will go right back into that party and I will end it with her right now Y/N I swear it--”
“It doesn’t matter!” You cut him off. “I don’t care what you do, or don’t do with Olivia, Barba, I really don’t. Date her, fuck her, break her heart. Because you and I are off the table, permanently” You started to walk away again, but he grabbed your hand.
“No, come on Y/N there has to be a way we get past this, there has to be. I mean, look how upset you are. I know you still care about me--”
“OF COURSE I STILL CARE ABOUT YOU, IDIOT!!!” You screeched. “Yes, I’m having a fucking nervous breakdown over you because yes I do still lo--like you, but it’s irrelevant!”
“But why…?” He asked in a soft voice.
“Do you really think that I can EVER look at you without seeing you and that bitch with her legs in the air?” You asked. “I mean, even right this second that’s ALL I can think about!” You started to cry again as you once again tried walking away from him.
“Y/N, Please...please I am begging you…” He grabbed both of your hands this time and got down on his knees.
“This isn’t a negotiation, counselor. There’s nothing you can do, no penance you can give,” You sniffled. “It’s just...it is what it is,”
“Please, Y/N....,” He clung to your waist like a child as he whimpered into your stomach.
You placed your hands over his back and looked to the sky, pleading to whoever was up there to make this stop. It was absolutely true, everything you said. Even though you could see that this whole situation was just a fucked up series of events and misunderstandings, you really couldn’t look at him without seeing her. You wanted to forgive him, you wanted to pick him up off his knees right now and just kiss him until the pain went away, but you couldn’t.
“No,” You did your best to keep a stern tone as you pried him from your body. “I’m sorry,” You whispered as you put a hand to his cheek; you noticed he had started crying as well.
It took everything you had to pick up your heels and walk out of that alleyway with your sleeves tied around your neck so it kept your dress over your breasts.
------
After several minutes of trying to compose himself, Rafael finally walked back down the street and into the bar where his friends were waiting.
Rafa! Where the hell did you go?” Oliva cried.
“I went after Y/N,” Rafael simply stated.
“A-Are you serious? Why?” Olivia asked in disbelief.
“You know why, Olivia” Rafael replied with a straight face.
“I cannot believe you--”
“Look, Liv. You are my absolute best friend in this entire world, I hope you know that,” He sighed. “But this has gone too far,”
“Excuse me?”
“Why did you do everything you did to Y/N, Liv?” Rafael crossed his arms. “ Is it because you’ve known how I’ve felt about her from the start?”
“I...Maybe…” Olivia looked at the ground as Rafael sighed deeply.
“Olivia I have tried so hard, SO hard to be there for you. To care about you, to love you. I have chosen you over and over again, but I won’t do it anymore. What you did was wrong, and you really hurt me,” He said sternly.
“How did I--”
“By hurting Y/N, Liv! By hurting us! Now, it’s so fucked up that I will NEVER be with her, and yeah that’s my fault and I have to deal with it now but--” He took a breath. “I need space, okay? I need to face what I’ve done to someone I cared about very much, and I need to do it on my own, and not with the person who helped me do it. I’m sorry,”
He gave her a kiss on the cheek and walked out of the party, alone.
------
The next Monday you walked into work with your head held high, despite all the whispers and snickers as you passed by each desk.
“Hey there, Cobra,” Your colleague Stacy waved.
“Cobra?” You raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, you know like a spitting cobra?” She smirked.
“Oh lovely, is that my new nickname then?”
“Could be worse,” Stacy shrugged. “We could just call you ‘chum bucket’,” she added with a laugh.
“Pithy,” You chuckled mockingly.
“Y/L/N,” Buchanan suddenly walked up to your conversation. “May I see you in my office?”
“Um, Yeah sure…” You muttered uneasily as you followed him back to the office. You could hear Parker humming “The Death March” behind you. Vultures. You finally reached Buchanan’s office, he let you in first as he closed the door behind you.
“Sit, please,” He gestured to a chair. You obeyed as he went around and sat at his desk chair.
“So, I heard you had an interesting Halloween night…” He raised an eyebrow.
“Listen, sir I am so sorry--” You started to beg for forgiveness.
“Y/N, you are one of the best lawyers I have here,” He cut you off. “You’re a Great White among those Tiger Sharks,”
“Thank you…?” You scrunched your face.
“But you’ve been spiraling,” He sighed. “I mean, spitting on a sergeant in the middle of a bar full of NYPD, that’s…” He shook his head with a laugh of disbelief. “That’s ballsy. Do you know how many cops have called here today asking for your head on a stick?”
“I know sir and I--” You started to apologize but he put his hand up.
“But do you know what I love most about being a lawyer?”
“What’s that?”
“I don’t work for the NYPD,” He smirked.
“I’m sorry sir...what are you--”
“That took guts, Y/N. Putting ‘Saint’ Olivia Benson in her place like that,” He went on. “You know those schmucks at the NYPD think they are so high on the moral ground, but just look at what Barba did to you,” He came around and put a hand on your shoulder. “Lying and manipulating you like that, just for that self righteous Siren,”
“Yeah…” You shifted uncomfortably in your chair.
“And I would like to reward you for your courage,” He smiled.
“Sir?” You were sure you heard him wrong.
“I know that those three idiots tried setting you up at that party to tank your career, but unfortunately for them-- it did the very opposite,” He gave you an evil smile. “I’d like to offer you the position of partner,”
“R-Really?” You blinked in disbelief.
“Yes really,” He chuckled. “Is that a yes?”
“Absolutely, John! Thank you!” You went to hug him but he put his hands up.
“Ah...just the thank you is fine, Y/N,”
“Right. Sorry,” You put your arms at your sides. You knew better than to show emotions at work.
“Well then, let me show you to your new office... partner,” He smiled as he led you out of his office. You walked proudly behind him as you raised a high middle finger to the glaring looks of your co-workers.
Maybe things were turning around….
.
#rafael barba#rafael barba x you#rafael barba x reader#rafael barba imagine#law and order special victims unit#law and order svu#law and order svu fanfiction#sharky#angst
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Love or Duty by GleefullyCaptainSwan
Chapter 1/8
Read on AO3: | Chapter 1
Or on FF
Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx @deckerstarblanche
Chapter 1: The Uneasy Alliance
“Our scout says she burned the village to the ground, everything is gone. She didn’t even leave the animals alive.”
The King surveyed the room filled with nervous men, he held up his hand and a hush fell over the crowd. “Double the guard at the gate, just to be safe.” He turned toward the Knight, the man nodding swiftly before exiting the chamber. “Regina is still in the East, Misthaven is safe.”
“For how long?” Someone yelled from the back of the room.
“We need to move the women and children.” Another voice spoke above the crowd.
“Everyone calm down. There is no need to panic, our guard is strong, our swords are mighty. We will not be taken by the Queen from the Eastern lands.”
“We need more swords, Your Majesty. If we stand alone, Misthaven will surely fall.”
The warning did not fall on deaf ears, as the King paced his chambers that evening, his wife, Queen Margaret preparing herself in their bed chamber, watched him with eager eyes. “You appear distracted this evening.”
“It’s Regina, she destroyed the town of Umbury. The nobles are concerned that she is advancing north.”
“You do not think our defenses will hold.” She spoke softly, standing from her spot in front of the bed, less of a question and more of a statement that she had read from his mind. She was good at that, reading his thoughts, understanding what he wasn’t saying before he could even admit his own truth.
He contemplated a moment, not wanting to worry his wife but knowing it was pointless to deny what she already knew. “No. They are our best men, but I fear there are simply not enough of them.”
“Then you must go west.”
“Never. Those fools will not listen much less be willing to help our cause.”
“Those fools are also standing in her way.” She said soothingly, taking his hand and pulling him toward the bed. “Alone, both kingdoms will fall. But if you come together, put aside this foolish feud, we will surely stop her in her path.”
“Brennan Jones is a fool. I would no sooner beg for his assistance than I would bend a knee to Regina’s demands.”
“Then you, my love, are the fool.” She put a hand to his open mouth, stopping his protest and complaint. “You are King David Nolan; you serve the people of Misthaven. It is time to forgive past transgressions, you must come together with the people of Jonesboro or you doom our own to a life of misery and servitude under the rule of Queen Regina.”
He bent his head, knowing his wife was right. He was out of options; they wouldn’t last the month at the rate that Regina was burning the lands. He needed assistance and his best chance was his neighbor to the west. King Brennan was the last man he would seek out, the last man he would be found groveling to, and sadly, he had no other options. King Brennan Jones was their only hope.
~*~
“To what do I owe this great displeasure of seeing your face on my doorstep, David?”
“I’m no more excited to be at your doorstep than you are to see me, Brennan, but we need to speak regarding our mutual problem in the East.”
“Ah so you’re here about the infestation, or as she likes to call herself, Regina.”
David nodded. “She burned Umbury to the ground not two days ago.”
“My scouts have not brought news of Umbury yet. Are you quite sure?”
“Not even the animals survived the slaughter.” David said somberly.
“Umbury is not far from the road to Misthaven, is it not?”
His irritation grew. “You know that it is.”
“This does not sound like my problem, David.”
“If Misthaven falls, how long before Jonesboro follows?” He stated emphatically. “Regina will not rest until all the lands are hers.”
The man paced in front of him, the cold mask set on his face, unreadable. “You expect me to believe that you care about what happens to my kingdom?”
“I know that my kingdom cannot survive without help. Neither can yours.” He implored.
“You want to work with me?” He laughed loudly. “I did not think the day would come.”
“Trust me, If there was any other way, I would have found it. Margaret asked me to speak to you, so here I am.”
The man rolled his eyes. “Ah now we come to the truth, Margie sent you.”
This time it was David who rolled his eyes, “She seems to think this is our only way out of this. I am inclined to agree, unfortunately.”
“Go home David, tell your wife I send my fondest regards, but I would sooner gut my own belly than come to your aid.”
“You did not tell me we had visitors.” The men turned toward the intruding voice and David softened when he saw the Queen enter the chambers.
“Ali.” He responded fondly, accepting the hug she offered as she approached. “I apologize for the short notice.”
“You know you are always welcome here.” She turned toward her husband with a glance of annoyance.
“He was just leaving.” Brennan offered quickly.
“Nonsense, what brings you all this way, David? How are Margaret and the children?”
“Everyone is well, Margaret sends her love, I was just speaking to your husband about the situation at Umbury.”
“What news is there of Umbury?”
“Regina.” He said simply and the woman’s face filled with dread.
“There must be something we can do about this woman’s reign of terror.”
He glanced at the King, “That is the reason for my visit. If our Kingdom’s could unite, perhaps we stand a chance at defeating her.”
“There have been too many years of unrest between our lands, our people would never fight alongside yours.” The King complained.
“Not unless they had something to unite behind. Perhaps a truce or a reason for them to join forces.” The Queen suggested.
“If you are suggesting that David and I…”
“Out of the question.” David added.
“Unless…” Brenna said with a raise of his brow. “Your daughter, Emma. She must be at least 18 now?”
David turned toward him with confusion on his face. “She turned 20 this year, why?”
“Our son Liam just turned 24 and has yet to take a bride.”
“Brennan, that is not what I meant.” The Queen stepped forward.
“But if our children were to unite, our people would surely follow?” He turned toward his wife, “It would solve the issue of Liam not choosing a wife, it has been too long and would avoid the messy situation of David needing to grovel in apology.”
“You want my daughter to marry your son!” David remarked in annoyance. “I did not come here to offer my child up as some sort of trophy.”
“So, you came here to beg for forgiveness then?”
“I’ll do no such thing!”
“Boys, please.” The Queen yelled. “This is not getting us anywhere.”
“You realize this entire idea is insane?” He urged as he tried to appeal to the Queen’s common sense.
“Neither of our children are married, they are both of age, it does solve a certain problem. Unless you boys plan to admit that this feud is ridiculous and apologize.”
“Never.” They sang in unison.
“Then I think we should consider it.”
Accepting defeat, David promised to return home and speak to his wife. In a week’s time, Prince Liam would travel to Misthaven to meet with Princess Emma to discuss their courtship. Now all he needed to do was advise Emma that she would be getting married.
~*~
“I’ll do no such thing.” Emma screamed at her father after he announced her upcoming nuptials.
“We don’t have a choice.” Her father countered.
“How dare you make this decision for my life; you swore to me that you would never do that.”
“I’m the King of Misthaven, I have to think about what is right for this kingdom and its people.”
“But what I want doesn’t matter? That’s what he’s saying, Mother.” Emma spun around to face her mother who was sitting on her throne, a frown on her face.
“Emma, it’s our only choice. We need the kingdoms to unite. Your father has to make the difficult decisions for our survival.”
“Oh, this is rich coming from your mouth.” She growled. “If you hadn’t defied grandpa, you’d be married to King Brennan right now!”
“Emma!” Her father’s tone was loud and angry, but she didn’t care in the slightest. She would not be told that she had to give up her life to be tied to a man she did not know or love.
“Emma what?” She snorted. “Don’t speak the truth?”
“This is different.” He paused. “I loved your mother, and she chose me. Her father accepted that. You have yet to find anyone on your own that is up to your standards to marry. And Prince Liam needs a wife.”
“Does Prince Liam want a wife?” She asked defiantly.
“Emma, you are royalty, this is a responsibility that both you and Prince Liam bear. I am sure he understands his role in his family as the Heir Apparent to the throne, as should you.” Her mother scolded.
“I don’t wish to marry.” She pouted and her mother stood from her throne and walked over to Emma, draping her arm around her shoulder.
“Prince Liam is a lovely man, kind and fair. You will grow to love him as if you had chosen him yourself. You have a responsibility to the people of Misthaven to protect them above all else. You will rise to the occasion as Princess of Misthaven and do your duty.” A tear rolled down her cheek and her mother wiped it away, lifting her chin so that their eyes met. “If there was another way, your father and I would have pursued it. We’re asking you to do this, Emma, for us, for your people. I know this isn’t what you want and for that I am truly sorry.” She finished softly.
“If nothing else is required of me, I wish to retire to my room.” Emma stood from her spot, setting her jaw firmly as she glanced at her father, when neither of her parents responded, she turned and stormed from the room, not stopping until she was within her chamber. As soon as she bolted the door closed, she crumpled atop the duvet of her bed, sobbing into her pillow until she fell asleep.
~*~
“You will travel to Misthaven within the week to meet the Princess and begin the courtship.”
“Do you really believe this will help us defeat Regina?” Liam examined the way his father paced the room in front of him, worry set in the wrinkles of his forehead. He had known that Regina was getting closer to Jonesboro and that their swords were unmatched to her army.
“As much as I do not wish to align myself with Misthaven, we need their blades. Their army is large, and we will not survive a full-on assault from Regina without their assistance.”
“And you believe this is the only way?”
“If she is anything like her mother, she will be more than enough woman for you, son.” He patted his son on the back. “If you are not satisfied with her, you can always take a mistress.”
Liam rolled his eyes, “I will do what is required of me, Father.”
“Take your brother to assist you, but keep your eye on him, I do not wish another scandal.”
“Of course.” He said with a nod, exiting the throne room, ignoring the thunderous beating of his own heart. As soon as he was behind closed doors, he grumbled loudly, tossing his boots across the room. Being the first born carried a heavy responsibility. He would be King one day; he would rule all of Jonesboro and as the first born and Heir Apparent to the throne he was expected to take a wife of royal descent.
The tapestry in the corner of his room rustled and swayed until it pushed away from the wall and the blonde woman entered his chambers through the secret door.
“Elsa.” He breathed, crossing the room in long strides to pull her into his arms.
“I came as soon as you left the King’s chambers. Why were you summoned?”
He brushed his lips against hers, before burying his face in the crook of her neck. “It’s Regina, she’s advancing through the realms faster than expected. The King of Misthaven has brokered a deal with my father that will allow our kingdoms to join forces and defeat her.”
“That’s great news.” She sighed. “So what troubles you, my love?”
He took her hands in his, brushing his lips against her knuckles. “I’m to marry Princess Emma.” He felt her flinch at his words and his eyes squeezed shut.
“And you have agreed to this marriage?”
“We knew this day would come eventually.” She sighed and he opened his eyes to meet hers, a tear slipping from the corner of her eye which he immediately swiped away with his thumb. “This is my duty; I cannot let our people down.”
She took his hand and pressed it against her cheek. “I know, that is why I love you.” He held her tight that evening, her body molded into his side as he watched the moon hang high in the sky. He had loved Elsa since he was a young boy when he first saw her outside the palace with her mother, one of the palace cooks, picking onions from the garden.
He had spent years ignoring the pull of his heart toward the young maiden, until he could yearn no more and took her as his own, locked away in a cottage hidden from the castle. They spent many nights lost in each other’s embrace, wishing that life were less complicated than it was.
He envied his brother Killian, as the second born, the responsibility to rule did not fall on his shoulders. His need to find a wife of royal blood was not necessary and as such, Killian took full liberties to live the life of a royal bachelor who bedded any beauty who would share their chamber with him. He knew nothing about responsibility and duty or even love. But Liam knew that as first born, he would one day be King, and he had to live up to his born right, even if it meant never getting to be with the woman he loved.
So instead of grumbling about fairness, he simply boarded the carriage with his brother and set off for Misthaven, preparing to court a woman he had never met and would never love.
“What if she’s ugly, brother?”
“I fail to see why that matters.” Liam groaned as his brother continued to barrage him with a variety of questions and statements about his situation.
“Would you really bed an ugly woman, simply for the honor of the kingdom?”
“Does everything come down to sex for you?”
His brother shrugged, “Not everything, I like a woman who can hold her rum as well.”
He stared out the tiny window in the carriage, wishing to be anywhere but on the road to Misthaven. “One day you will meet a woman who captures your attention even outside your bedchamber, little brother.”
“Why would I have need for a woman outside my bed chamber?” He smiled widely. “And that’s younger brother, Mate.” He corrected and Liam chuckled at the annoyance it caused the man. While Killian was only a few years younger than him, his jealousy of being the second born had always been apparent.
Killian had always been able to use his handsome features and natural charm to get by in the world, Liam envied his spirit. At 14, Killian lost his hand in a sailing incident, Liam never even saw him cry, he simply picked himself up, and despite his mother’s insistence of finding the best prosthetic their gold could procure, he had the silversmith craft him a hook and carried on his way.
Liam was sure eventually the impediment would bother him, but instead he used it to lure women in. He was sure that curiosity in addition to his cocksure demeanor brought about the loss of his virginity by age 15. Women were simply drawn to his playful yet assertive behavior. While Liam grew up by his father’s side, learning the proper way to rule a kingdom, Killian spent his learning poetry and sailing for adventure.
“Your looks won’t last forever and eventually you will desire a woman to want you for more than what you can provide to her in the bed chamber.” He chuckled but his younger brother simply cast his eyes upon their impending arrival.
The carriage came to a halt and Liam stepped through the open door, looking up at the castle in front of him. It was more lavish than their own, brighter colors and more inviting. He nodded to the man who greeted them.
“Prince Liam, Prince Killian, welcome to Misthaven. The King and Queen are expecting you.”
Killian’s grin was wide as he nodded to a maiden who walked past the carriage. Liam groaned and pulled him by the lapel toward the castle doors. “I have orders to keep you out of trouble on this trip, and that one looks like trouble.” He said with a glance toward the flirting maiden.
“You are no fun at all, brother.” He whined following him begrudgingly through the castle halls.
The large doors opened into a wide room, bright banners accenting the stained-glass windows. A golden curtain draped at the far end of the room, two large thrones sitting in the center of the wall. “Be on your best behavior, I beg of you.” He said through gritted teeth toward Killian.
A beautiful young woman stepped toward the King; he could only assume this was his future bride to be, her blonde hair braided into a golden crown. “At least she isn’t a troll.” Killian whispered.
“Welcome to Misthaven, Prince Liam.” King David spoke as he rose from his throne and stepped toward them. “It is an honor to have you here for such a happy occasion.” He smiled and Liam nodded to the man.
“It is an honor to be here.” He turned toward his brother, “This is my brother, Prince Killian.”
Killian bowed with a ridiculous grin on his face. “My father sends his regards.” Liam rolled his eyes; Killian always did have a way of being an ass without even trying. It was no secret that the feud between King David and their father had been contemptuous for years. His father never shared the reason that the two kingdoms were not friendly neighbors, but Liam knew it best not to ask his father of such things.
“I’m sure he does.” The King responded with a firm jaw. “Allow me to introduce you to the jewel of Misthaven. My daughter, Princess Emma.”
The blonde woman stepped forward; her mouth set in a straight line. She held out her hand and he took it, pressing his lips to her knuckles. “Pleasure, M’lady. While your kingdom is vibrant and glorious, it pales in comparison to your beauty.” He could have sworn she rolled her eyes, but she lowered her head before her emerald orbs could meet his. She didn’t even glance at her brother before she spoke.
“I’m sure the journey was long, and you would prefer to be taken to your chambers rather than spend another second pretending to be impressed by my overwhelming beauty.”
Killian snorted loudly beside him, and Liam elbowed him swiftly, a satisfying groan exiting his brother’s throat.
The King glanced at his daughter who barely gave him a glance as she took her place beside her mother.
“I will have you taken to your rooms; shall we expect you for dinner this evening?” The King interjected.
“Certainly, I look forward to seeing you this evening.” Liam said with a bow, turning to exit the room and dragging his brother forward with him. Once they were shown to their rooms, Killian doubled over with a rambunctious howl.
“Hopefully, she likes your performance in bed more than she enjoys your compliments.”
Liam groaned, he assumed all he needed to do was to arrive in Misthaven, court this woman and return home to his kingdom with a bride to be. Based on her reaction to him, that was going to be a bigger challenge than he planned.
Bloody hell.
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A Blessing - Draco Malfoy x Reader
Request: I was wondering if i could request a Draco Malfoy imagine where him and the reader are best friends (but in love with each other except both completely oblivious). It's after the war and the reader and Draco (and other people from their year) are going back to hogwarts to retake their last year which they didn't finish because of the war. The reader knows Draco's story (that he was forced to become a death eater or voldemort would kill his parents) and she knows that everything he did durong the war he didn't want to do. One day the reader notices that something about Draco is off (he's sad, moody and unfocused) and follows him out of the great hall. She finds him in the bathroom trying to cut out his dark mark and crying. She stops him and comforts him and something happens between them. I hope it's not too dark but if it is by all means don't write it, I won't mind - grey-girl
Warnings: violence (self-harm), sad Draco :(
“And then I told them to just put some feathers on it and call it a day!”
You laughed at something your friend, Stacy, said and looked across the table. You were eating dinner with the rest of your friends at the Gryffindor table, when your eyes connected with Draco's. The moment your eyes connected, he immediately looked back down at his plate, playing with his food. Your heart dropped and you wanted to walk over towards him to ask what was wrong, but you knew at the moment that your friends would disapprove; especially right now with everyone coming back after the war. Your friends needed you more than anything right now.
But Draco was your friend too.
Ever since the war happened, every one had been walking on egg shells around each other. It took a while for stuff to even feel like things were going back to normal, even though we were still far away from anything going back to the way it was. Both teachers and students were on edge 24/7, but there was always that underlying relief that Voldemort was gone for good. There was no possible way for him to come back thank to the one and only Harry Potter.
“Hellooooo,” your friend spoke, “Earth to Y/N.”
Blinking your eyes, you regained your focus and put a smile on your face.
“I’m sorry, I got lost in thought. What did you say?”
“Macy asked what you plan to do after potions tomorrow.”
“Oh, uhm I don’t know,” you said, “I will probably just go study in the library or take a walk somewhere. I haven’t exactly decided yet.”
Macy nodded, and began again.
“Sounds riveting,” she said sarcastically, “Anyways, I cannot believe we have to finish up the year. Considering everything that everyone has already went through, you would think that the school would just give us...”
You tuned out of the conversation and just let the noise of the Grand Hall fill your ears. You weren’t interested in the constant complaints that you’ve heard nonstop from almost everyone around you.
Would it be nice to have a break from everything? Yes.
But at the same time, you wanted to be surrounded by all of your friends and hope for things to go back to normal. Your eyes quickly shifted back to where Draco sat, but instead of seeing him, you saw the wall. He wasn’t there but was instead across the room, about to walk out of the Grand Hall.
It doesn’t take a brainiac to see that something was wrong with him. Standing up, you were no longer hungry and instead were going to go after him.
“Hey! Y/N! Where are you going?” Stacy called after you.
“I’ll see you guys in the common room, I need some alone time,” you responded and quickly headed towards the doors so you could catch Draco before you lost him. You stood outside the doors of the Grand Hall and looked both ways, hoping to see where Draco went.
Spotting that s familiar green robe turn a corner down the hall you began to follow, picking up your pace. Speed walking, you tried to keep up without him noticing you. However each corner that you turned, it seemed as though Draco was already turning another and another and another.
Where was he going and why is he in such a rush?
The first thought that came to mind was the Room of Requirements because this was exactly how he acted then, but deep down you knew there was no way he was ever going to step foot in that room again.
You kept walking down countless corridors and inevitably lost Draco a little while back. Coming to a stop, you stood frustrated and let out of a huff.
Think, just think. Where could he have gone. A big possibility was the Slytherin Common Room, but if that was the case then he would have taken a right turn instead of a left when you were on the stairs. Another could be the astronomy tower, but that was getting rebuilt since it was destroyed because of the war. Or another could be-
“Y/N?”
You turned around and saw Harry.
“Oh, hi Harry. What brings you here?” you asked.
He let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. “I should be the one asking you that. You’re standing in the middle of the hall and having what appears to be an argument in your head from all your facial movement.”
You covered your mouth with your hand laughing with him. “I swear I am not a lunatic.”
“No, no you’re just fanatical,” he grinned.
Lightly shoving his shoulder, you crossed your arms. It felt nice to be able to have a genuine, much needed laugh. “Where ya headed off to?”
His lightly shook the book in his hand. “Herminone wanted to schedule study time with Ron and I,” he sighed, “In all seriousness, what are you doing?”
“I’m just looking for Draco. I swear I was right on his tail, but then the next thing I knew he-”
“I think I saw him go into the bathroom,” he said.
Your eyes lit up.
“The bathroom?”
“Yes, the bathroom.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense- oh wait actually it might. But did I pass a bathroom-”
“However I could be wrong, I wasn’t actually paying attention to who was walking inside,” he spoke quickly.
Biting the inside of your lip, you mentally face palmed. It does make sense that you could’ve bypassed the bathroom while heading down the hallways.
“Oh my goodness, thank you Harry,” you said quickly pulling him into a tight hug and turning around, speed-walking down the hall to go to the bathroom.
“I could be wrong!” he called out, cupping his one free hand around his mouth. You didn’t stop walking, and just waved him off with your back to him. Smiling, Harry turned around and headed to his study date with Hermione and Ron.
Continuing on your mission, you kept going until you stood in front of the bathroom. Silently walking in, you immediately heard quiet sobs. You inched closer to the sound, trying your best to be a quiet as possible.
Peeking around the corner of the dimly lit bathroom, you heart shattered before your eyes. The mirror of the sink was broken with sharp shards of glass littering the floor. Draco’s robe, sweater, and tie were scattered around the floor in a mess, leaving him in just his black pants and white collared shirt. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows as you saw Draco leaning over the sink with his arms in the sink. He was sobbing profusely in anguish.
Rushing forward, you crashed into him trying to get ahold of the situation. Your eyes widened as you noticed one of the pieces of glass in his hand as he was trying to cut into his skin where his dark mark was.
“Draco Malfoy! Stop! What on earth on you doing?!” you gasped, reaching forward trying to grab the glass out of his hand. He looked at you with bloodshot eyes, and held his hand up, keeping it out of your reach.
“What’re you doing here!” he snapped aggressively, inbetween tears. Realizing his tone, he lowered his eyes, not making eyecontact.
You reached forward again, but this time grabbing onto his arm, and reaching for your wand with your other hand to try and heal him. He snatched his arm away from you, back away.
“Draco, stop! Why’re you cutting your arm!” you yelled at him, you wanted to cry seeing your best friend this way. “Let me heal you!”
“Go away, Y/N! Just leave me alone!” he shouted, choking between sobs, “You don’t understand, you wouldn’t understand!”
The blood that pooled in side the sink was also dripping down his arm, seeping into his white shirt, staining it. It made you sick to your stomach to know all of this was Draco’s blood.
Collecting your thoughts, you spoke calmer. “Draco, please. Give me the glass, talk to me, help me understand. You don’t have to do this. Just please, talk to me.”
His fists were balled, turning white from his sorrow. He closed his eyes, shaking his head that hung low.
“This mark..,” he began through tears, “I can’t stand to see another minute of this on my flesh. Every-Everything it stands for! Parading on my skin as though it is some medal worth to be shown off everytime my arm is expose to the outside world... just-just coming back here reminds me of everything fucked up in my life!”
You were at a loss for words. Why hadn’t he come to you before. You had no idea he was feeling this way; well you knew he was down, but you never expected anything like this.
“Draco,” you frowned, speaking lightly, “Give me the piece of glass.”
He didn’t move other than to wipe his tears away from his face that were to be replaced by new ones.
“I know you’re hurting, but stop seeing the mark as something negative-”
“Stop seeing it as negative?! I’ve killed people, Y/N!” he sobbed, “I-I let Deatheaters into Hogwarts, I watched numerous amounts of innocent people die- I almost killed Dumbledoor, I was Voldemort’s personal puppet!”
You inched forward, placing your hand over his that held onto the glass. He tensed up.
“Will you just listen to me,” you began, “I understand everything that happened to you because of this mark, however it doesn’t define who you are as a person. You were and still are the same Draco you were long before you even had this mark. Instead of seeing it as a burden, see it as a blessing in a sense that you survived. You survived Voldemort’s army, you survived The Battle of Hogwarts, and most importantly you survived another day of living.”
“I want this mark off of my skin, Y/N, I can’t- I just can’t.”
“I know you do, but you’re going to end up hurting yourself more than you expect and if you bleed out, I don’t know what I’d do with myself, Draco. You’re my best friend, I need you in my life. Please.”
He remained silent, but his grip lightened and eventually the piece of glass fell to the floor. You reached forward and pulled him into an embrace. He wrapped his arms around you, crying into your shoulder. He shook with sadness and anger. He was angry at himself.
You ran one of your hands through his silky hair, lightly rubbing his head as you shushed him quietly. “It’s okay, you’re going to be okay.”
You stayed there for a while just holding Draco. He desperately needed someone to be there with him, and there was no way you were going to walk out on him.
After a while, he seemed more calm and remained there in your arms. You decided to speak up.
“Draco. Can I please heal you?” you whispered. He hesitated at first and released himself from your embrace. He held out his arm and looked at you. Gazing back at him, you gave a slight nod and pulled out your wand.
Pointing it at his deep wound, you spoke repeatedly until his arm was healing. “Vulnera Sanentur.”
The flow of blood seemed to ease as his wound to be knitted back together painlessly. His skin returned to the way it was before and he let out a quiet sigh under his breath. You put your wand away. Looking back into his eyes, you weren’t able to discern how he was feeling.
“Talk to me. What’s on your mind.”
He shook his head. “It’s going to be a while for me to accept this mark, but with your support it won’t be as hard.”
You warmly smiled and and lightly gripped his forearm. Bringing your lips to it, you lightly kissed his arm.
“We’ll get through this together, I promise.”
#Draco Malfoy#Draco#draco malfoy fanfic#draco malfoy fanfiction#draco fanfiction#draco malfoy one shot#malfoy#oneshot#one shot#harry potter oneshot#Harry Potter#harry potter imagines#harry potter imagine#Tom Felton#imagine#imagines#draco malfoy imagines
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SUMMARY: You grew up thinking everything about you was normal, but found that this wasn’t the case. One night, you discover that the normal life you had lived up until then was something of the past because every man you kissed since you turned 16 met a mysterious fate - death. While the world pegs you as a cold-blooded bachelor killer called the “Angel of Death,” you catch the eye of a raven-haired man in an equally black suit.
TITLE: Angel of Death
CHAPTER: 1/?
PAIRING: Loki x Fem!Reader
WORD COUNT: 3501
AUTHOR NOTES/WARNINGS: mentions of death; hello, hello! I came up with this idea really randomly, and I suddenly had an urge to write about Loki... and this happened. It's going to be a very short multi-chapter read - maybe 2 or 3 chapters. I'd put it all on one chapter but it didn't seem right to cram it all in one go. So, here I am with my tiny short story. I hope you guys like it! (AO3 link)
“Last night, another gentleman was found dead in his apartment. Local authorities cannot confirm the cause of death. However, it is believed that this may be connected to a string of mysterious deaths within this very city . Stacy, what do you have to say about your take on this potential serial killer in our midst?” The news anchor spoke loudly, his voice bouncing off of the walls of the small apartment. The television screen panned to a young woman in a lavender blouse, her small hands wrapped around the microphone with her company’s logo displayed on it. She was standing outside of an apartment complex that was bustling with men in dark blue jackets with the letters “FBI” sprawled on the back.
Seemingly unfazed, she spoke, “Sources say that the man was alone at the time of his death, but something tells me that he may have been on a date with our city’s Angel, Frank. There’s no trace of anyone in his apartment and locals are beginning to think he was ‘kissed by Death’s fate’ as they’ve been putting it.”
The news anchor now began to share the screen with the young woman, a joking look on his face even with the current circumstances, “Well, gentlemen out there, watch your backs. We’ve got an Angel of Death loose in our city. Who knows who’ll be next.”
Static filled the screen as the channel changed. You weren’t meant to be watching these kinds of things, not when you already had your suspicions on who the culprit was. Every fear that was within you overflowed, creating an abyss of darkness at your feet. The deceased - the man who was kissed by fate - he was kissed by you.
***
Two years had passed you by since the night all the dots had all connected, forming a big arrow pointed in your direction. It had been two years since you vowed to be alone forever because, no matter what you did, that’s exactly what would happen. If you so much as touched a man with your lips, he dropped dead by the end of the season. You didn’t test this theory, but after you had witnessed a man who had only received a kiss to the cheek being wheeled into the hospital, you didn’t dare try anything else.
An “Angel of Death” they called you. You were described as an angel of misery and destruction, seducing souls with promises of love in order to drag their spirits from their bodies until they were but empty capsules never to move again. It was harsh. The way they described you was harsh, but after you had watched multiple men meet their end, you didn’t see the point in arguing with the description that seemed to be more real than anything else you had tried to come up with.
You were Death in a human’s body. Human. Could you even call yourself that?
The guilt hidden behind every kiss you had administered to others was packed away, pushed into suitcases of repressed emotions that you had readily placed by your door. There was no use in crying over something you hadn’t even thought to be possible until the news proved you wrong. You couldn’t turn yourself in for being a murderer when they would just lock you up and probably run tests on you in order to make some zombie bride war ally. So, you sat. You sat under maple trees, and you sat under stars. You sat and waited for your life to end, waiting for your own Angel of Death to come grab your hand.
***
It was an autumn day. The sky was clear, people were laughing, and your supposed reign of terror on the city was something of the past. Six years had passed since your first kiss of death, and now the news was far too intrigued by aliens invading the city than they were ever intrigued by you. You held a book in your hand as you sat on the park bench, fingers tapping away at the edges as you tried to focus on the words. There was something distracting you. No, not something - someone.
A man sat on the opposite side of you. His hand held an older looking piece of literature, and for the first time in years, you were curious. You were curious about why this man was wearing an all-black suit when the sun was shining so brightly, and you were curious as to what he was reading. Why were his eyebrows furrowed? Was he deep in thought or simply trying to concentrate on the book with all the noise around?
Before you knew it, you were much more interested in analyzing the man than you were in reading your book. You watched as his raven-colored hair glistened in the sunlight, and you wondered if he needed a hat to cool down. His long fingers stroked each page tenderly as he went line by line, and when he was about to turn a page, he would lick the tip of his finger before doing so. The man’s legs were long, slender, and crossed neatly over one another while he sat.
As you watched him intently, you came to an important conclusion: no matter how you looked at him, he was beautiful.
An eternity could have passed you by, and you would have passed peacefully with the amazing view in front of you. But it wasn’t complete without knowing the beauty his eyes might hold. You wanted to see what treasures he hid within them, what secrets you could discover, and right as you thought about it, he looked up.
Your eyes widened as they met his. A small smirk played on the corner of his lips, eyes glistening with an emotion you couldn’t quite make out. Unable to look away, the both of you sat in silence, gazing at the other intently. His eyes analyzed every inch of you, making you feel incredibly self conscious. It was as if he was looking into your soul.
Just like that, though, he was gone. The man stood to his feet, the book in his hand shutting with a subtle clap, and he began walking. His eyes didn’t follow yours nor did he bother looking back, and when he didn’t even smile your way, you hastily gathered your things to go in the opposite direction.
***
You gripped your book tightly in your hand, silently cursing as you walked towards your usually bench. It was a nice day outside, and you were more than happy about being able to finally sit down and enjoy some quiet time, especially with all the children in school at this time. The world wasn’t having it, though, and it apparently wanted you to suffer.
A man sat on your usual bench, arms crossed and facing forwards. The autumn leaves were falling all around him, and part of you begged for your legs to carry you back home. You got closer to the spot and realized that a somewhat familiar face was occupying your space, a familiar man dressed that was dressed in all black.
His eyes met yours like they had days before but there was no reaction this time around. You approached slowly, walking at a pace that seemed more like you were walking down the aisle for a wedding than casually strolling towards an open seat. Your eyes wandered around to the other benches, hoping that there was another one open somewhere nearby. The action proved futile as you witnessed older couples sitting on them, nestling with one another under the golden glow of the morning sun.
There was only one option - sit with him.
You stood before him, almost as if you were a peasant standing before a king. His mere presence felt godlike while yours felt so miniscule. Your grip tightened around the book in your hand, palms sweating from the nerves of confronting this near stranger. His eyes bore into yours and you mentally noted that his eyes were impossibly gorgeous. You couldn’t be quite sure what color they were, but they looked like emeralds in the glare of the sun.
“May I sit here?” You asked politely, pointing to the seat besides him. He didn’t verbally respond, but instead, he gestured to the spot as if he were granting a servant a seat at his table. You felt slightly humiliated yet flustered from the interaction as you sat down.
Silence filled the space between the two of you as soon as you sat down and began reading. There was something in the atmosphere that was saying that you should try to speak to him, but judging by the way he was glaring at every man that walked by the bench, you felt as though speaking to him wasn’t an option. You glanced over from the pages of your book, watching his fingers as they tapped away at his thighs.
“An opportunity,” you thought. He wasn’t holding his book, so maybe he would be open to talking, but as you were about to open your mouth to speak, he beat you to it.
“What is it that you’re reading?” He questioned. For a moment you wondered if he was speaking to you. His voice was like velvet to your ears, and you noted that if his voice were a drink it’d be a smooth bourbon. It’d be masculine yet smooth to the taste, you were so sure of it.
“The Night Shift,” you responded as if it was a title he should have known. His eyebrows furrowed just as they had the other day, and you figured it may have been best to explain further. “It’s by Stephen King.”
“Stephen King.” He spoke, weighing the name of the author on his tongue. “And what is he the king of exactly?”
His question made you laugh, which only earned you a confused glance from the handsome stranger. Stifling your laughter, you raised a hand in apology for the outburst. He nodded in acknowledgment, waiting for you to finish your joyous moment, and for a split second you thought you saw him smile. It wasn’t until you calmed down that you saw that he was, indeed, smiling brilliantly in your direction.
“You smiled,” he spoke again, his eyes wandering to a woman with her child. For a moment, you saw something flash behind them. Sadness, maybe.
The statement made you flinch, the smile disappearing immediately from your face as you felt yourself cowering into the shell you had so readily made for yourself years ago. He turned back to face you, his eyes focusing on yours. Perhaps he wanted to get to know you as you wanted to get to know him, or perhaps he just didn’t have anywhere else to sit when he arrived, but something told you that this encounter may have been fate.
“Whenever you’re here, you seem content,” he continued, eyes still searching yours for an answer to a question he never asked. “But you seem weary all the same. I have never seen you smile.”
He had seen you before; he had just confirmed it. Strangely enough, it didn’t seem as though he had ill intent or obsessive tendencies that just might end with you in a ditch somewhere. No, the raven-haired man seemed sincere.
"It's a pleasant sight," he whispered almost as if you weren't meant to hear it.
You felt yourself smile again, but only a small smile. A sigh escaped your lips, your heart beginning to jump in your chest as you felt a single brick fall from the wall you had painstakingly built around yourself. He smiled, too. And if only for a brief moment, you were glad to have met him.
However, the happiness of encountering “Loki” as he had named himself exactly one week later was quick to deteriorate. Your interactions with the mysterious man continued for days and then weeks. The two of you met for weeks at your bench, bringing new books and stories to share from various parts of your life. The two of you talked for hours underneath the brilliance of the sun’s rays; you talked until the sun itself kissed the horizon, bidding it farewell for the night.
You loved talking to him, and from what you had gathered, he was named after the Norse God of Mischief. He definitely fit the title; in fact, if you weren’t sane for the most part you would have been suspicious that he really was the god who had attempted to take over this very city. You were certain that the real Loki could not possibly be in the city, not with the government still looking for him.
Those thoughts were besides the point, though, especially after the night he was meant to take you out.
At the moment of your slight panic attack, you were flustered over the fact that Loki had requested that you join him for dinner in the evening. For that reason, the two of you did not meet that day even though the sun had shone brightly and there were clouds to admire. Your hands were clawing at your arms as you thought of the endless possibilities in which the night could end, and as much as you wanted to say that a kiss would be the perfect ending, you couldn't let that happen. Even though you repeated the thought that you absolutely did not want to kiss him, your mind rejected it completely simply because you definitely wanted to. Hell, if you didn't have the slight dilemma of causing imminent death after a kiss, you would have done so the moment he told you that he enjoyed your company more than the coworkers he was forced to get on with.
So, it was safe to say that while you had to admit that you were extremely fond of him, it was hard to imagine getting anywhere with a relationship without being able to place your lips on any part of his skin. When you thought thoroughly about it, you decided that you must stop meeting with him once the night was over. If this was a date, or any form of romantic scheme, you could not take part in it. You couldn’t watch another man meet a fate that you had innocently led him to. You would not do that. Not to Loki.
A knock at your door cut through your thoughts like a dagger laced with poison. It was a knock that poisoned your life from that point on, leading you down the abyss you had thought you left behind when you vowed to commit to loneliness. You rushed to find your cell phone that you had just put down seconds before, but as per usual, it was nowhere to be found. The knock sounded again. Huffing, you went to open the door fully expecting to see Loki outside clad in black. The person behind the door was anything but the man you expected; instead, you were faced with a gentleman in a plain suit and a look that told you that he was not there on friendly terms.
“Miss Y/L/N?” He inquired, his chin lifting as he glanced over your shoulder and into the apartment behind you.
“Yes?” You responded, eyes wandering over his outfit, attempting to figure out the nature of his visit. Your attempts proved futile, but that didn’t matter. He was quick to state his business once you had confirmed your identity.
“My name is Detective Francesco, I’m going to need to ask you to come to the station for questions pertaining to a case that has recently opened back up in light of new evidence. Does the name Isaiah Walsh ring a bell to you,” the detective asked, his eyes accusing you of a crime you were only aware you had committed until after the damage was done. You froze in your spot, not sure how to react. Of course, if he hadn't stated his business, you may have thought that he was there to inform you of an accident or a death. This wasn't the case, and those thoughts did not occur to you. Why would they? You were a murderer. Nothing more and nothing less.
Isaiah Walsh - the man who was found dead in his apartment six years ago. A date gone wrong. You simply nodded, not bothering to answer the question in case it would make the detective even more suspicious of you. “Let me grab my things.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
It was clear as the words left his mouth that it was more than just questioning. You were a suspect, not a witness, to the crime he was investigating. As the detective led you down to his car, you noticed a man with raven-colored hair approaching the building with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. The flashing of the police car’s lights illuminated his lean figure as an officer opened the back of his vehicle to you.
Loki’s eyes met yours as he scanned over the scene in front of him. The bouquet fell to the ground, the smirk on his lips vanishing, as he witnessed you sit in the back of the car while a small crowd began to gather at the sight of someone they barely knew getting an all too noticeable escort.
***
You were sitting at a metal table with one of the big mirrors you see on TV. A typical interrogation room from what you could conjure from all the crime show reruns you had indulged in. Your hands folded in your lap as the detective sifted through a file on the table. Part of you wondered why he was taking so long to ask you any questions, but another part of you hoped he never would. Pictures fell from the file as he stood from his seat and your heart dropped to your stomach. It was a pixelated shot of Isaiah with his arm around a young woman at a popular bar just down the road from his apartment. The faces were blurred from the low quality image, but you knew just by seeing the time on the corner along with the date that the woman was you six years ago.
"Look familiar?" Detective Francesco questioned, watching your expression for any significant clue.
You nodded your head, knowing that full cooperation was probably for the best, "I was on a date."
The detective narrowed his eyes, sighing before opening the file again. Within a few seconds, four more security camera shots joined the first on the table. Each one showed the face of a different man with you by their side.
"For months," he began speaking again, "I was wondering why these men were chosen as the Angel's victims, and I couldn't figure it out until one year ago when I realized that the only common factor was you. You were the last person to see any of these men alive: why? Tell me, Miss Y/L/N, do you even remember these men?"
His voice was seething with spite. Your stomach churned and shivers ran down your spine at the look of determination on his face. You glanced down at your wrists, wondering if this was to be the last time you'd see them without steel cuffs on. The detective sat back down, pulling picture after picture from a folder of names you would have rather forgotten; yet, here you were, wearing their deaths as a tattoo on your soul - an imprint of the horrible monster you had somehow turned out to be.
"What about these men?" Detective Francesco pointed out to more photos of gentlemen that you had met at one point in your life. "This one was your high school boyfriend if my sources are correct, and this one," his finger tapped on an all too familiar photo of a face that haunted your dreams, "your own father."
Tears burned at your eyes. Over the years you had accepted many things, but the death of your father was never one. After just one glance at the photo, you found yourself unsure if you had the strength to look the detective in the face anymore.
"I'd like to speak to my lawyer," you mumbled, knowing that this was an uphill fight that you may or may not win. In fact, part of you hoped that you didn't win just so that the demons that crawled into bed with you at night, whispering damning words in your ears and flooding your subconscious with nothing but nightmares, would finally allow you to sleep in peace.
The detective nodded, eyes blazing with a victory he had waited far too long for. There were no fingerprints, no poison, nothing. Just your presence and the men's deaths. Even without substantial evidence against you, this was a start.
"We'll be in touch. You're free to go, but ma'am?"
You met his wicked gaze as you stood from your seat, "Yes?"
"Don't leave the city."
(Chapter 2)
#loki#loki laufeyson#the avengers#loki imagine#loki imagines#loki x reader#loki x you#loki laufeyson imagine#loki odinson#ohdearhiddles imagine#ohdearhiddles imagines#mutant!reader#mutant powers
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Part I- Spring
“Happy Easter!” Anne gave her bosom friend a hug, sitting down beside her in class.
“To you too!” Diana returned.
Anne brandished a posy of wildflowers, giggling. “For your table, Madame.”
“Oh Anne,” Diana breathed. “The trilliums are blooming! I do wish I could go with you to pick more of them, but Mother wants me to come home right after school. We’re going to Carmody tonight to spend it with my cousins.”
Anne’s countenance fell. “You mean, you’re not coming to Easter dinner?”
Diana glanced around and lowered her voice. “No. And you should’ve heard the things Father said. It made me so angry I had to go to my room to scream into my pillow.”
“They won’t allow you to come?”
“No.” Diana sounded so dejected.
“I want this Easter to be perfect for Mary. She’s made Sebastian so happy! I just wish you could make it.”
Diana squeezed Anne’s hand. “Perhaps next year things will be different.”
Miss Stacy called the class to attention and their conversation ended.
-
Easter morning dawned bright and clear, with the crow of a rooster and the lowing of milk cows. The Snow Queen finally sprang forth her blossoms, showering Anne’s gable room full of starry white petals.
“Happy Easter to you, dear Snow Queen!” Anne called out her window, finishing tying her braids.
Down below she noticed a horse trotting up the drive. It was Gilbert Blythe. Anne took a quiet moment to really assess her rival. He was really quite handsome, having left boyhood behind, and looked all manly at the moment astride his horse.
Gilbert dismounted, and, noticing Anne in her window, waved. Ashamed at being caught, Anne drew back and slammed her window closed.
As she made her way down the stairs she could hear Gilbert’s voice.
“I’m here to retrieve whatever foodstuffs you are providing for Easter dinner.”
Marilla answered him back. “The shepherd’s pie isn’t quite done, so we’ll bring it along when we come over later. Anne,” Marilla said, spotting the latter as she entered the kitchen. “Will you fetch that pie I made last night? And a few of those fruit preserves, please.”
Anne did as she was bid, and quick as naught, had an old sturdy basket filled with food looped over Gilbert’s arm.
“We’ll be over there after church. Now get, get, or you’ll be late!” Marilla shooed Gilbert out the door goodnaturedly. “Are you ready for church, Anne?”
Anne twirled, showing off the new dress Marilla had made her. It was green-- a dark green like an evergreen tree-- with accents of gingham at the wrist, hem, and yoke. “I love it, Marilla.”
“I’m glad.” Marilla sighed, glancing out the window. “There’s Matthew with the buggy now. Let me pull the shepherd’s pie out of the oven and we’ll be off.” Marilla set the dish on the warm stove, covering it with a cloth. “There, that will keep it warm until we return.”
“Is it alright if I go over early to help Mary?” Anne asked.
“After church, mind you. Now grab your coat and let’s be off.”
-
Anne walked with Gilbert to his home. “Lovely service. I’m sad that Bash and Mary couldn’t make it.”
Gilbert glanced aside at her. “You know that it’s just an excuse, right?”
Anne raised an eyebrow, scoffing. “I remember that first Sunday. I thought the minister would die from apoplexy there on the spot! I think it so shameful that some folks discriminate. And especially a minister who preaches we’re all equal in God’s eyes! Being banned from the church just because the color of their skin... Oh and don’t get me started on Diana’s parents.”
“They sent a note declining Mary’s invitation.” Gilbert added, glowering and shaking his head. “Within all the flourishing and fancy language, it wasn’t hard to detect the real reason. We all know they won’t come because Bash and Mary are black. It’s disgusting.”
Together they trudged through the mud in the path. A silence fell on the pair, but while in the past it would have made Anne uncomfortable, right now she felt at ease. Was their rivalry truly at an end? Could they perhaps, be friends?
Somehow, that word wasn’t adequate enough to describe her relationship with Gilbert. Her and Diana were friends , and her and Ruby were friends as well in a similar way. Same with Cole and Aunt Jo. Kindred Spirits and friends all rolled into one.
She and Gilbert were friends not in that way. They were different but she couldn’t put her finger at how...
Anne, frustrated at how the right word eluded her, wasn’t watching where her footsteps were landing, and she stumbled over a hidden branch.
“Careful,” admonished Gilbert with a little laugh, catching her elbow to steady her.
“Thanks.” He let go and, strangely, Anne mourned the loss of his touch.
Soon, they made it to the Blythe-Lacroix house, which was already a-bustle with activity. Mary met them at the door.
“Gilbert Blythe! You will stay outside. I want no bad luck of yours to interfere with my cooking, you hear me? You take one step inside this kitchen and your curse will rain down and ruin all my hard work. You can clean yourself up in the barn and enter in through the other door.”
“Aye aye ma’am.” Gilbert gave a goofy salute and headed off round the back.
Anne smiled at Mary. “Would you like some help?”
“I believe I’m all about finished, but thank you for your offer. Maybe you could set the table? There’s Marilla and Matthew now. Oh! And the Lyndes right behind them.”
Soon they were all gathered together, and Sebastian said Grace.
Mary cleared her throat. “Thank you all for coming. You’ve made my heart good. It’s so nice to cook for a large gathering again.”
“Thank you for having us, Mary.” Marilla smiled over her glass.
“What did you put in your chicken Mary? It is absolutely scrumptious and divine.” Anne sighed, in raptures over the blend of spices on her tongue.
“Let’s see, paprika, cumin, tarragon, pepper, and a hint of lemon. I’m glad you like it.”
“Like it? It’s the best chicken I’ve ever tasted!” Anne caught sight of Marilla and hastily amended her statement. “After Marilla’s, of course.”
“Yes, Marilla’s fried chicken is always wonderful,” Rachel Lynde chimed in. “But your chicken, Mary, well, has an… unusual taste, that’s for sure.”
Anne glared at Mrs. Lynde, annoyed.
While the adults changed the subject and chattered about someone’s new cow or other, Gilbert nudged her arm. “Here, you can have more of mine.” He said quietly, gesturing to his plate.
Anne turned the glare on him. “Why? Do you not like it either?” She snarled.
Gilbert raised his hands to ward off her ire. “Relax, Anne. I enjoy Mary’s cooking just swell. But since I’m full and still have some left, perhaps you’d like to finish it, since you seem to like it so much.”
Anne felt chagrined, as though he’d just chastised her. “Sorry. Yes, thank you.”
Gilbert slid what was left of his piece of chicken onto her plate.
Anne quickly bit into it, half moaning at the taste. Finished too fast for her liking, another piece found it’s way into her mouth. This time, she caught Matthew’s eye over the table. He warily shook his head, reaching up and flipping his nose with his index finger, sublty pointing in Mrs. Lynde’s direction
Anne, confused, looked over at the woman.
“Oh my goodness!” Mrs. Lynde gasped, her hand clasped to her chest, her eyes large with scandal. “I cannot believe such a thing.”
Suddenly, all eyes were on Anne. She swallowed quickly, utterly baffled.
“Anne Shirley Cuthbert! I thought you knew better than that!” Marilla admonished, adding her two bits.
“What? It’s just chicken.”
“Yes, but to eat after Gilbert has already partaken of it is such a shameful thing. And you, young man,” She added, turning to Anne’s companion. “You ought to know better as well.”
Anne rose to his defense in indignation. “He offered because I enjoyed Mary’s chicken so much, nothing more. And besides, Matthew shares his food with me all the time. How is this any different?”
“Matthew is your guardian dearest, that’s understandable.” Mrs. Lynde coaxed.”But to share food with a man you’re not related to…” She shuddered, shaking her head.”How utterly shameful.”
Anne narrowed her eyes defiantly and, holding Mrs. Lynde’s gaze, took another bite of chicken.
The entire table erupted.
Mrs. Lynde and Marilla started shouting, Anne glaring while she finished her bite, then stood, hurling words back as good as she got.
Meanwhile, Matthew and Mr. Lynde exchanged looks before escaping out the door, and Mary hurriedly started cleaning up plates. Gilbert, seeing this, seized his chance to escape as well and jumped up to help Mary. Sebastian was frozen in place, his head whipping back and forth between the two opponents as though following a game of shuttlecock.
“I don’t see why it’s such a big deal--”
“Anne Shirley-Cuthbert you will not talk to your elders this way--”
“Teenagers! Didn’t I warn you Marilla that she would be nothing but trouble, her and her red hair--”
“Why are we bringing my hair into this? It’s not like I can change it! Oh wait, I already tried that!--”
“I am not discussing this further. You have behaved rather shamelessly and now--”
“If you had just listened to me, Marilla she would’ve been brought up right but no, you listened to Matthew and now look what’s happened--”
“Nothing happened! I do this all the time! I don’t see what’s shameful about it at all--”
“We’re leaving right this instance--”
“I won’t stand for it--”
“Argh! Enough, fine!”
“Fine!”
“Fine!” Mrs. Lynde left in a huff the door slamming shut behind her.
Marilla, cross with Anne, grabbed the girl by her shoulders and planned to march the girl straight to the buggy for an uncomfortable ride home.
Just before crossing the threshold, Anne turned back to Mary.
“I’m ever so sorry I ruined your dinner. It really was lovely.”
Mary shook her head, smiling. “Anne, it was in no way ruined. In fact, there was always a tussle or an argument anytime I held dinner at the Bog. Felt like home.”
Anne smiled and allowed Marilla to steer her outside.
As they descended the steps, they could hear Bash raise his voice. “You know better than to feed a woman off your plate. What were you thinking!?”
“I wasn’t! I was just trying to do something nice for her! I…” The rest of Gilbert's response was muffled and lost to the ears.
Anne smiled a little. At least she wasn’t the only one getting a scolding tonight, that’s for sure.
(Read the whole thing on AO3)
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MerMay Day Twenty-Five The Institute of Marine Biology
The buildings were backed right up against the coastline. Docks of boats pushed out into the open sea, and a shoreline covered in pebbles stretched out from the back entrance of the building up to the waves. Several humans were bustling about on this shoreline. The two merms poked their heads out of the water to watch them.
“Oo, look, seals!” Marvin pointed at a cluster of rocks, where a group of seals were indeed lounging. “You think there are any selkies there? Should we say hi?” He glanced back at his companion. “Schneep?”
Schneep didn’t seem to hear him. He was fixed looking at the large, sprawling complex of buildings. Humans scurried about. He sank further into the water, clutching Jack—still asleep—to his chest. “Maybe this was not a good idea.”
“Maybe,” Marvin agreed. “But it’s the best one we have right now. We can’t take care of Jack when he’s stuck like this. We’re lucky that Chase’s human girlfriend had connections here.”
“Yes. Lucky.” Schneep glared in the building’s general direction, making no move to get closer.
“Hey, if you want to go home, you can,” Marvin offered.
Schneep was shaking his head before Marvin even finished the sentence. “No. I am not leaving Jack alone with them.” He paused, taking in the buildings again. “I-I-I can stay.” His voice shook.
“Alright, if you’re sure.” Marvin swam closer to the shoreline. Here, it dropped almost directly into the water, without much slope. “Chase said the human we’re looking for would be wearing yellow.”
“Like that one?” Schneep lifted a hand out of the water to point at a tall human with long dark hair, wearing a bright yellow shirt and less bright yellow shorts.
“Um...yes, exactly.” Marvin looked back at Schneep, who still didn’t seem eager to get close. “Hey, you stay here, I’ll go check to see if they’re the one.” He went underwater once more, swimming closer to the human standing on the shoreline. The human who was scanning the ocean, as if they were looking for something. Marvin popped back out of the water right up at the shore. “Excuse me?”
The human started, looking down. Once they saw Marvin there, their eyes widened. They crouched down. “Did you just make that sound?” They asked in a hushed voice.
“That sound? Well, I was talking. Wait, you can’t understand me, can you?” Marvin realized.
“It is you!” The human’s eyes lit up. “Wow, I never believed—I mean, I know Stacy said, and she’s not a liar, but...wow.” They grinned, and stuck out a hand. “My name’s Roxy.”
Marvin looked at the hand, then back up at the human—Roxy. “Um...yeah, I don’t get this.”
Roxy seemed to quickly pick up that he was confused. “Sorry, guess you don’t shake hands, huh?” She chuckled. “That’s okay. Anyway, it’s nice to meet you. Where’s your friend? The one who needs help?” She scanned the ocean, and caught sight of Schneep, sticking his head out of the water to watch. “Hello!”
Schneep gasped, and disappeared underwater. His heart was suddenly racing. He held Jack even closer. Was he really about to go through with this? Hand his friend over to strange humans? Last time he trusted strange humans it hadn’t ended so well…
“Schneep? Are you okay?” Marvin had ducked back under to talk to Schneep.
Taking a deep breath, Schneep nodded. He reminded himself that this was their only plan, and Chase apparently trusted this human friend of his friend. So might as well get it over with. He popped back to the surface and swam up to Marvin and Roxy the human. Not saying anything, he lifted Jack out of the water so the human could see his face.
“Hmm...I see.” Roxy reached forward. Schneep jumped and backed away. She froze where she was. “I just want to see his face. Take his pulse. Is that okay?” After a long pause, Schneep sighed and swam forward again, letting Roxy brush some strands of hair out of Jack’s face. She pressed two fingers to a spot on Jack’s neck. “Hmm...that’s probably about...forty-five beats per minute?” Roxy looked at the two merms. “Is that normal for you?”
Marvin looked at Schneep. “Is that normal?”
“For sleeping, yes,” Schneep nodded. Then he looked at Roxy and nodded again so she would understand it’s normal.
“Hmm…” Roxy pursed her lips. “Well...I know how to take care of fish, not fish-human hybrids, but it seems like your friend here is stable. Of course, we don’t know unless we do some kind of brain scan. Stacy said that he’s in a coma, or something? He fell asleep and won’t wake up?” She waited for the two merms to nod in response. Then she stood up. “Wait right here.” Without another word, she turned and left.
Schneep and Marvin looked at each other, then settled down to wait. It seemed like only a few minutes later when Roxy returned, now with a group of other humans. Schneep’s eyes widened when he realized two of them were wearing white coats. He yelped and tried to go underwater again. Marvin caught him by the arm. “Schneep! What’s wrong?!”
“It is them! Why are there more of them?! Why are they wearing that?! You cannot trust the ones in white! Let go of me!” Schneep struggled to swim downward, but Marvin’s grip was tight. “You are so tiny, how are you so strong?!”
“Everyone’s tiny to you, Schneep,” Marvin muttered. “Now calm down! They’re friendly!”
“You don’t know that,” Schneep hissed, holding Jack tight. “You can never know that.”
“Well, alright then, but remember!” Marvin wrapped his arm around Schneep’s torso. “If we don’t find a way to take care of Jack while he’s asleep, he’s going to die.”
Hearing it so plainly stated was like a blast of cold water. Schneep stopped trying to swim away. He sighed, and took a deep breath of water before breaking the surface again.
Roxy was back at the shoreline, now sitting down. The rest of the humans were milling about some ways away. Seeing the merms surface, she smiled. “Thank god, I thought I scared you off. You guys doing okay?” The merms nodded in unison. “Good.” Roxy gestured at the other humans. “These guys are my friends. You can trust them. And we won’t tell anyone, Stacy told me that was important.” A soft smile appeared on her face. “We’re out here to try and preserve ocean life, we won’t do anything to jeapordize you.”
Marvin looked at Schneep, smiling. But Schneep just sank lower in the water.
“We need to take a closer look at your friend here. Can he be out of the water, or is that a bad thing?”
“Is that a bad thing?” Marvin repeated, turning to Schneep.
“It should be fine, as long he stays at least a little wet,” Schneep responded. “We wouldn’t want him to dry out.” He hesitated, then handed Jack over to Roxy. After she held him, he splashed a little bit, hoping she’d understand that he needed to stay wet.
Roxy smiled reassuringly, and gestured for the other humans to come join her. Schneep tensed, keeping his eye on Jack as the humans checked his heartbeat, breathing, and response. They talked about whether or not these signs meant the same thing in merms as they did with humans. After a while, Roxy turned back to the two merms and explained, “Your friend’s probably fine for now, but he needs food and stuff. Obviously he can’t get that if he’s asleep, but we can put him on this thing called an IV.” She pursed her lips. “But that would mean that he’d need to stay here. Inside the institute.”
“Hey d’you think he’s two meters long? Or...tall?” One of the humans suddenly asked.
“I mean, yeah? Probably? Don’t do anything yet, Johnson,” Roxy warned, then looked back at the merms. “Well? I mean, it’s up to you.”
Marvin frowned, and looked over at Schneep. “Well...I’d probably be fine with it if we could come visit, but what do you think? You’re better with this sort of stuff.”
Schneep glared at the humans. He went silent for a long time. “Honestly, I do not like it, but this might be our only opportunity, and I hate that. Perhaps we should ask the others.”
“What, now?” Marvin shook his head. “Jackie’s off who knows where, we haven’t seen Chase since the fries disappeared, and Jamie…” He trailed off. “You said this might be our only chance, we can’t waste it. But...i-if you’re not comfortable with it, we don’t have to.”
“Actually, we do have to. My comfort is not important here, Jack’s is,” Schneep said stubbornly.
“Your comfort is always important,” Marvin said softly.
“...thanks, Marvin,” Schneep mumbled. “But this is an urgent matter.” He looked back over to Roxy. “You can take him,” he said, nodding so she’d get the point.
She did. Roxy looked back over to the group of humans and said, “Okay, we’re good to go. We can—Greg, seriously?”
“What? Can’t hurt to be prepared.” A couple of the humans were pushing a large tank of water. It was on wheels with a handle, more like a cart than anything else, no doubt used to transport large fish. “I think he’ll fit in this.”
All Schneep’s resolve suddenly went out the window. His face suddenly turned white. He lunged out of the water, half onto the shore. “Wait, no! There has to be a better way to go about this!”
“Schneep!” Marvin gasped. The humans gasped as well, and Roxy took a few steps backward. “Calm down!”
“No, there has to be something else! No more glass boxes!” Schneep shivered. “Do not do this! Everyone will see!”
“Hey, um, Mr. Octopus, please calm down, it’s going to be alright,” Roxy assured him. “We’ll be sure to take good care of him.”
“Everyone will be watching!” Schneep said, distressed. “Everyone will see!” He gestured and pointed to his eyes.
“Are you...worried about people seeing him?” Roxy guessed.
“Yes, yes!” Schneep nodded furiously. “You cannot be watching all the time! What are you going to do next? Put him on land? Shock him and write down how he reacts? You cannot do that! We are people!”
“Okay, just let me...um…” Roxy looked around. “Um, Maggie, grab that tarp, we’ll put it over the transport tank.” She looked back at Schneep. “Is that good?”
“None of this is good!” Schneep cried.
“Okay, I see, just, um...do you want to come with him?” Roxy offered. “So you can see how he’s doing?”
Marvin spoke up for the first time. “What?! No! We need Schneep out here! Right?” He looked at Schneep. “...right?”
Schneep said nothing. He was thinking, considering this. After a while, he nodded.
“What’re you doing?!” Marvin protested.
“I am making sure nothing happens to Jack!” Schneep snapped. “Is it not better if there are two of us there than just one?”
“Well—but—I-I mean—” Marvin stammered. “Schneep, you can’t just leave! You’re the only healer in the area! What if something happens?”
“I am sure you can take care of it yourself. I am not leaving Jack to these strange humans,” Schneep said firmly. “Marvin, you cannot stay because you need to look for Jameson and the fries. Besides, I have gotten out of human places before, I can do it again.”
“You’ve what?!”
“Nevermind, is long story.” Schneep leaned closer to Marvin. “Just please let me keep him safe.”
Marvin went quiet for a bit. Then he sighed. “Fine. But one of us will be here, same time tomorrow, to check on you and Jack.”
“That is fine. Please do.” Schneep turned back to Roxy. “Alright. We can go now.”
“You want to come?” Roxy asked, looking for confirmation.
Schneep nodded.
A few minutes later, Schneep had managed to climb into the tank. Jack was there, still fast asleep. There wasn’t a lot of room in the small box, so Schneep leaned Jack against his chest, cradling him. He waved back at Marvin as he disappeared back into the ocean.
“Ready to go?” Roxy asked.
Schneep nodded again, and a few humans draped a tarp over the tank, hiding them from few. Schneep breathed a sigh of relief. It was never that the tank was small, he could deal with that. It was all the eyes, watching, watching, watching. Even if these humans were well-intentioned, they would still be watching. It was just what someone did when they saw something strange. Schneep pulled Jack closer, curling around him protectively. If his paranoia turned out to be justified, Jack needed someone there to look after him. And if the humans really were nice, well...it never hurt to be safe. He wasn’t about to leave his friend.
#jacksepticeye#jacksepticeye fanfiction#jacksepticegos#septic egos#dr schneeplestein#marvin the magnificent#brigid writes fanfiction#mermay snippets
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Hey Emma. I hope you're having a great day! From your prompt list of ANGST, write me up one of these prompts. “Get the hell out.” You're super awesome! -Stacy
ok.
so i know this is SUPER late. i have no excuses… just wasn’t in the mood for a while… however…
this is sitting at 20k words (not in this ask, i had to break it up into a full blown chapter story kjfkdgn) and i probably (finally) only have about 1k-2k words left to write. it spiralled waaay out of control (in the best way i hope D:)
it’s been a long time coming but it’s f i n a l l y nearly done.
aaaaand thank you stacy!!! you’re so great ilysm
sorry for the angst but u did ask uwu so here’s about 20k words of it :)
enjoy!
rated: t | words: 1978
read on ao3 and ffnet
His Protector - Chapter 1
“You did this?”
His Highness’ voice was low. She’d gone against his wishes, but it was for his own good. He couldn’t see that now, maybe he never would, but it would mean he’d be safe. That was all that mattered right now to his First Knight.
“I did, Your Highness.��� Her tone was unapologetic, and rightly so, she thought.
“I explicitly told you not to carry out this request.” His tone was dangerous now.
King Mustang was angry, and Knight Hawkeye could understand that. She knew he’d be offended that she went behind his back, knew he’d feel betrayed, but she still did it.
“I told you I could handle it.”
The Knight didn’t doubt it, but she wouldn’t let him walk to his death. She couldn’t.
Her King was stubborn but had always heeded her warnings. This time, he hadn’t, and it was concerning. Riza Hawkeye had done some digging and discovered just how dangerous this venture may become. She had a bad feeling in general about the whole operation, and her gut had never failed her before. Only this time, her King had dismissed her concerns. He was dead set on following through with it. It both baffled and irritated her, as the head of his security.
If he wouldn’t listen to her as she tried to protect him, she’d have to step in to make sure that happened. She was protecting him from himself.
“I understand that, Your Highness, however given the evidence, I made an executive decision to call the meeting off.”
“What evidence?” he exploded, standing from his throne. “There’s no evidence to indicate this situation would threaten my life.”
“Your Highness, I’ve had a very bad feeling about this from day one,” Riza explained herself.
“I don’t work on bad feelings,” he interrupted.
Riza felt her irritation spike. “Yes, Your Highness, however, it’s saved my life, and yours, more often than I can count –”
“You disobeyed my orders and went against my wishes based on a “gut feeling”.” His expression was hard, his eyes unforgiving. This wasn’t how she anticipated this conversation going. It was derailing very quickly, but she was just doing her job. “That’s something I cannot have, and will not tolerate, in my court. Is that understood?”
“Of course, Your Highness.” She had to swallow past the lump in her throat to get the words out, but Riza managed.
“You no longer hold the status as my First Knight.”
That felt like a knife in her heart, but Riza had expected it. Harsh, but she knew the consequences of her actions and would accept them wholeheartedly, because it was for the King’s own safety.
“You’re no longer a part of my court. Get the hell out.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Riza bowed as was etiquette, then removed the seal from the front of her armour. It was King Mustang’s personal seal and showed the title she held as his First Knight. She’d been his closest advisor, his confidant, and his protector. He felt betrayed by her actions, Riza knew this. She could see it in his eyes. It had hurt like hell to go against him, but she was simply doing her job.
Riza approached and placed the seal on the table at the bottom of the dais leading up to his throne. She patted it once, unable to help herself as she bid farewell to her old friend. It hurt. This seal had been a part of her for years and just like that, it was gone. It was him who’d taken it from her. It hurt like hell.
Turning, Riza left the throne room, her movements controlled. There was no argument because she knew he wouldn’t listen. It frustrated her completely. Irritated her, even. How could he be so blind and stubborn? He may have felt betrayed by her actions, but the feeling was mutual. She’d advised him for so long and suddenly, he brushed her aside? Dismissed her warning and concerns? That was a betrayal in itself.
However, she’d done her part to ensure his safety. Riza had done all she could – even went behind his back and against his wishes. There wasn’t much else she could do. The knight just hoped it was enough.
As she turned, her mask cracked, and she let out a shaky breath. It was silent, so he wouldn’t hear her, and her movements never faltered as she walked away from the man she loved. Tears crept up to her eyes and threatened to fall, but she held them at bay.
All her life she’d dedicated herself to King Roy Mustang and his family. They’d taken her in after her father passed away. Berthold had been Roy’s father’s advisor, and Riza had been accepted into the family with open arms. The last thing she’d wanted to do was betray him like this, but Riza felt she had no choice. She was doing the right thing, she believed. She’d prevented him from attending a meeting which would threaten his life. Roy had told her he was going regardless of warnings from the rest of the court, because he was determined to make things right and to create a peace treaty with the neighbouring kingdom.
The letter she’d given him tonight had been forged – by a friend of hers – to explain the meeting had been called off. The “sender” – a mutual friend and messenger between the two kingdoms – advised the King not to travel because of safety concerns brought forth by the First Knight. It named her because it was the only way the King would believe it was true.
Riza exited the castle and walked across the courtyard. Her horse was waiting for her, held in place by the stable hand for her arrival. Expressing her thanks, she mounted the horse and set out through the castle town. The roads were quiet. It was almost midnight, so not many people would be milling about, but the streets were almost eerie as she rode away from the only life she’d ever known.
Her future now was completely uncertain. However, she did have one last thing to do as the King’s First Knight. She had a plan and it was time to set it in motion.
After exiting the town gates Riza entered the forest and rode to a clearing. It was well used by her throughout the years as it was off the beaten path and far enough from the road that no one could eavesdrop.
“Knight Hawkeye?” a voice called out, unsure.
Riza dismounted her horse and approached the sound. A young man exited the cover of the trees and stepped into the moonlight.
“It’s just Hawkeye from now on, Alphonse,” Riza stated gently.
“Ah. Right. So, it’s done?”
Riza nodded, ignoring the pain in her chest. The wind from the ride had dried her tears. There would be time for that once this was all over and the King’s safety was secured. Until then, she would need to be level-headed and focussed. Even though she was no longer his First Knight, she still had a duty to her King, and a personal vow to protect him at all costs, no matter what her status was.
“It’s done. Step one is complete.”
“… Now it’s time for step two,” Alphonse finished for her.
Taking a deep breath and letting it out, Riza nodded.
“Right.”
She would attend the meeting in the King’s stead and try to bring about peace to the regions.
The threat on King Mustang’s life was very real, so there was no way Riza would let him go ahead with it. However, peace was still important. Riza believed that. So, she would go first to beat him there, and if they threatened her life… Well, she was better dying than the King. The kingdom needed him. He was a good and just King. Everyone loved him and it was the most successful ruling the kingdom had had in centuries. Riza wouldn’t jeopardize that.
Plus, then the King would have his damn evidence if she ended up dead. Hopefully that would penetrate his thick skull.
“When do we leave?” Alphonse asked.
“I leave tonight. You go home to your brother.”
His eyes flashed with indignation. “I’m not leaving you to do this alone,” he argued.
“Alphonse –” Riza knew there would be an argument, but she was too drained to start it with him.
“No,” he shook his head. “I’ve come too far to drop it now. This plan was my suggestion, and it’s the reason you’ve lost your place in the King’s Court.” The reminder was harsh, and there was another stabbing pain in her heart. “The least I can do is see it through.”
“Al –”
“No, Riza.” His tone was firm and unyielding.
Riza looked into his eyes and saw a fire in them. His determination and loyalty to her may end up being the death of him and that’s why she was so hesitant to bring him along. However, there would be no stopping Alphonse, Riza knew that much.
“I have so many more magic abilities and I’ll be able to get you out of there if things get too dicey. I can help.”
“You’re a teenager –”
“Who has, on more than one occasion, proved my skill and my loyalty to you,” he reminded her. Then, his expression turned hurt. “You still don’t think I can do it?”
Riza stared at him for another moment, then gave in. She’d lost her fight.
“No,” she replied. She approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder, softening her knees so she was eye level with him. He’d sprouted a few inches over the past few months and was almost catching up with her. “I don’t doubt your loyalty or abilities,” she reassured him. “It’s never been about that.”
“Then why won’t you let me help?” he pleaded.
“Because if anything was to happen to you, and you were hurt, or worse, you died, that’s something I wouldn’t be able to live with.” Her gaze was steady as she willed him to understand, her tone resolute. She gripped his shoulder tighter. “I would never forgive myself,” she whispered. “And I can’t bear the thought of it.”
They’d both worked closely over the last year. He was an advisor for the outskirts of the kingdom for her, and that was where he lived with his brother and his family. Alphonse was a bright and skilled mage, who’d learned the art from his father. He must have had a hell of a teacher, because at the age of nineteen, he was more skilled than most mages she’d been able to work with throughout her career.
It was also Alphonse who’d helped her come up with ideas to postpone the meeting, or avoid the King attending it completely, if they could. King Mustang was an immovable object though and would not heed her warnings. Alphonse lived near the neighbouring kingdom and had seen first-hand the affect the ruler had on their people. A kingdom where innocent traders and townspeople were left for dead on the road was not somewhere Riza wanted her King to go.
Too bad Roy is too stubborn to realise it.
Alphonse gripped the wrist of the hand on his shoulder tightly, his determination returning. “I won’t allow that to happen. I can get us out of there if things go south. I’ve got so many healing and protection spells because my father was paranoid about me and my brother getting hurt by the soldiers from the neighbouring kingdom. I’m well prepared.” His eyes flashed with the same fire that hadn’t wavered over the last few months. “I can make this happen, Riza.”
“All right,” she relented. There was no pleased look in Alphonse’s eyes, just determination.
“Let’s get to work.”
#royai#royai fic#royai fanfic#royai au#ask#snowdog49#writing prompts#fic request#emma writes#his protector
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Half of My Love is Yours
This is part 2 to All My Love is Yours and an unrelated prequel to Husband’s Birthday (because I’m using Stella and Stacy in this one as well)
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Word count: 3.3k -ish
6th week
Pregnant.
That’s the only thing running through you mind as you stared at the little stick in your hand. The two lines shown on display glaring back at you.
Finally, pregnant.
You and Connor have been trying to get pregnant for almost a year now, but had no luck. However, you two were very determined and remained positive that the pregnancy tests will soon tell you the news you wanted to hear.
You wanted to believe it was true, but at the back of your head; there was also the doubt that the test was accurate, that it was just giving you a false hope, even though most of the symptoms you have been feeling late were present; you missed your period, the vomiting, mood swings, headache, constant backaches.
You needed to be sure it was positive before telling Connor. He wanted to have kids just as much as you did, and you couldn’t blurt it out to him right now without knowing that the test is 500% right; that you two were finally expecting a child in 9 months’ time. So, you scheduled an appointment with an obstetrician for tomorrow afternoon.
xxx
“Nervous?” Your mother asked as the two of you sat patiently on the row of chairs while waiting to be called in.
Your legs bounced; a habit of yours whenever you were feeling extremely nervous. You bite your lower lip, nodding “I really am, mom. What if the test I took was wrong? What if I’m not pregnant?”
She smiles reassuringly and reaches out for your hand “Honey, you’ve got to be positive before going in there, okay? I know the internet says that there are chances that tests could be wrong, but with your symptoms showing; I just know that there’s a little baby Brashier on its way”
Your hand rubbed your stomach softly, over your non-existence bump “I sure hope so, mom” You said hopefully “We’ve been trying over a year now and I really hope it’s finally time because we’re so ready to become parents”
“You and Connor would be the best parents to your kids, baby” She confirmed.
“Hi, are you y/n Brashier?” The nurse comes into the waiting room with a clipboard in her hand. When you nodded, standing up with your mom; she smiled “Dr Anne is ready for you, Mrs. Brashier”
“Well Mrs. Brashier, you’re pregnant!” Dr Anne cheered as she held the ultrasound device against your stomach “You’re about 6 weeks along right now”
Your mom squeezed your hand at the news being delivered and let out a happy sigh.
“I am?” You asked shakily, already feeling yourself getting emotional “I’m really pregnant, doc?”
“Yeah, sweetheart” She nodded as she broke into a smile “If you want to lean up a bit, I can show it to you on the screen”
You did as you were told; lifting your body slightly so you could take a closer look on the little screen next to the doctor. Dr Anne begins to circle the device around your belly, then pointed to the screen “You see the little bean right there? That’s your baby, Mrs. Brashier”
You looked at the screen in awe, smiling through happy tears as you turned to your mother “There’s a baby in me, ma”
Your mother mirrored your smile, bringing your intertwined hands up to her lip and pressed a kiss to the back of your hand “I told you to be positive, honey. I told you there was a baby on its way”
“Shall I give you a copy of the sonogram?” Dr Anne asks “I’m sure you would love to show it to your husband”
“That would be great, doc. Thank you”
xxx
Connor wheeled his luggage through the front door and made sure to lock it after. He placed his sneakers on the shoe rack and went deeper into the house “Babe?” He called out.
You appeared from the kitchen, smiling widely as you spotted him setting his stuff down by the couch “Hi baby”
Connor trailed towards you, pulling you into a tight hug when he was close enough to you. He breathed in the scent of your shampoo that he loves so much and pressed a kiss to your clothed shoulder “Hi” He sighs happily “I missed you so much, honey”
You giggled, circling your arms around his waist “Con, babe, you were away for like 5 days”
“So?” He deadpanned, pulling away moments later “I can’t be away from you for more than 10 seconds, babe, you know this”
You rolled your eyes playfully and spun your heels towards the kitchen while he followed after you “And you call me the dramatic one”
Connor eyed the tub of ice cream and chocolate bars laid on the counter, along with your laptop as you went to grab him a drink from the fridge “Is it your time of the month, baby?”
You hummed in response and offered the bottle to him “Something like that” You shrugged, hopping up on the stool next to him at the island “How was New York? Everything okay with Sam and the shoot?”
“It was good” He nodded, taking a sip of his water “But I’ve got a lot of editing to do with Sam so I have to meet up with him soon again”
“How’s your headache, by the way?” Connor asked worriedly as he set the bottle down on the marble top “Did you check with a doctor about it?”
“It’s all good, Con” You reassured “And I didn’t. Mom came over and took care of me for a bit. I’m feeling better now though”
“Thank God” He sighs in relief “I’m really sorry I wasn’t around to take care of you, baby” He frowned.
“Hey,” You cooed “It was just a headache okay? ‘M fine now” You smiled at him.
Connor reaches out for your hand and laced your fingers together “I don’t care if it’s just a headache, y/n… In sickness and in health, remember? I’m supposed to be here taking care of you whenever you need it”
“Bubs, you were away for work; not for any other reasons” You reminded him “I’m a big girl okay? Sometimes you’re not going to be with me all the time, and that’s okay. I can’t be depending on you all the time”
“But I want you to depend on me” He pouted “You’re my wife, sweets; I’d do anything you want me to”
You chuckle, taking your free hand and pinching his cheek lightly “And I love you for being the sweetest, Connor David but you don’t have to constantly baby me”
Speaking of baby.
“Hey, can you stay here for a bit?” You ask out of nowhere, getting off the stool “I bought something for you from the mall yesterday”
Connor watched as you headed towards the door that separated the kitchen from the living room “Okay…?” He said, which sounded more like a question.
You returned with a paper bag and he eyed the bag curiously as you set it in front of him “What’s inside?” Connor wondered.
You shrugged, resting your elbow on the counter top “Check and see, bubs”
As he unfolded the colour tissue paper, Connor finds a mug at the bottom of the bag filled with his favourite chocolates.
He takes the white mug out of the bag, glancing at it for a second before lifting his head up to you “You got me a mug filled with my favourite chocolates because I came back from New York?” He asked confusingly.
You giggled, shaking your head “Can you pour out the chocolates for me?”
“Okay….?”
Connor did what he was told; flipped the mug and watched all the wrapped chocolates fall on the table “And now?” He asked.
“Take a look inside the mug, baby”
When he flipped the mug upright again, taking a peek inside the mug, he swore he almost dropped it when he finally sees what was written on the bottom of the mug in cursive words;
you’re going to be a dad
Connor doesn’t know how to react. His whole body froze as he read the sentence over and over again. The words finally registered in his brain and it finally clicked.
You watched him, waiting for him to say something but he doesn’t. This made you more anxious with what he was going to respond.
“Connor?” You called out nervously “You okay, bubs?”
Connor finally looks up at you again and you could see the tears in his eyes “We’re pregnant?”
The way he said it; the mixture of excitement and fragile in his tone, already made you emotional. It took you seconds to start tearing up as well, choking out the words as you smile softly at him “Yeah love, we’re going to have a baby”
Connor reached out for your hand and pulled you into his embrace as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders. You could feel his body start to shake as he cries softly into your (his, but was it really his anymore?) hoodie.
And you weren’t any better. You thought you could get through this with him without crying (because that’s what you’ve done whenever you thought of the baby in your stomach ever since leaving Dr Anne’s office 2 days ago) but you couldn’t help yourself. Your arms circled around his waist and you both cried in each other’s’ arms.
It was both a very emotional and big moment for the both of you. You’ve been waiting so long for this to happen and now that it has, it seemed surreal to you; to be expecting a mini you and Connor into this world in less than a year.
“When…” Connor choked out, sniffling a little “Did you find out?”
“I took a test 3 days ago” You muttered against his shirt “Then mom took me to the doctor the next day to make sure it was true”
Connor pulled away from you just enough to look at your face. He smiles through his tears, bringing his thumb up to wipe away your tears “Is this really happening? It feels surreal to me, baby”
“This is so real, Con” You chuckled softly “We finally did it. We’re going to have a mini us soon”
He pushed you backwards lightly so he could slip off the stool. He kneeled down so he was at eye level with your stomach. Your lips started to tremble as you watched him rub your stomach softly.
“Hi love bug, it’s your daddy” He calls softly “I know you can’t hear me but I want you to know that even though you’re not here yet; mommy and daddy already love you so much. You’re our miracle, our blessing, our little angel, love bug. We cannot wait to see you soon and spoil you with our love”
xxx
13th week
“You okay, baby?” Connor asked worriedly as he helped you on the bed in Dr Anne’s room.
“Yeah I’m good, bubs” You confirmed, leaning back against the pillow “I just get really nervous in here, I guess. I just hope everything is okay with our baby”
“Hey, everything is fine” He confirmed, bringing up your intertwined hands up to his lips and pressed a soft kiss on the back of your hand “Baby Brashier is a fighter, okay? Our little bean is going to be fine through it all”
Dr Anne walks into the room with her clipboard, greeting the couple with a smile “Mr. and Mrs. Brashier, it’s wonderful to see you again!”
“How are we feeling? Everything’s okay?” She asked as she walked over to the ultrasound machine to set-up everything.
“Actually, my nausea and vomiting aren’t getting any better, doc” You told her, mentally groaning at the many nights of pain you went through “And I feel like I’m eating way too much and gaining more weight than I actually should”
“It’s normal, right?” Connor asked “I mean, she’s clearly eating for two now so I didn’t think there was anything abnormal about that”
“Your bump does look bigger than normal pregnancies” Dr Anne noted and deep down, she knew why but she wanted to make sure before breaking any news to the expecting couple “Can you lift your shirt up for me, honey?”
You did as you were told, feeling the cooling gel on your stomach before Dr Anne begin to circle the device on your bumped stomach.
As she took a look at the screen, she broke into a smile “Well, the mystery of why you feel like you’re eating more than you should has been solved”
“Really?” You and Connor asked hopefully “Why’s that?”
“Because you’re eating for three now”
Connor gawked at her while you looked at her like she grew a second head.
“I’m sorry…” You said hesitated “Did you just say I’m eating for three now?”
“I did” She nodded, turning the screen to your angle so you could properly see two separate babies in your stomach “There’s baby number one” She pointed to the one on the right, then to the left “And that’s baby number two”
“Two babies” You said, stunned “There’s two of them in me? How?”
Dr Anne laughs and shakes her head “God’s miracle, y/n”
“It’s normally too early to tell but I can actually tell you the genders of your babies. Do you want to know?” She asked.
Connor looked at you, noticing your eyes hasn’t left the screen. He knew you didn’t want to wait for a gender reveal party to only find out; you wanted to know as soon as possible (like him), so he answered on behalf of both of you “Yeah doc, that’d would be great”
“Well congrats you two; you’re having girls!”
You gasp at the news, biting your lower lip to stop yourself from letting out a cry.
Damn hormones.
Connor felt his heart could explode at any moment right now “Two girls?”
“Two girls” Dr Anne confirmed with a smile “Everything looks good so far, their heartbeats seem normal at this stage”
She stood up from her stool as she took off her rubber gloves “I’ll give you two a moment then print out a copy of the sonogram for you to take home”
“Baby” Connor calls softly when he notices you haven’t said a word since she left “Talk to me” He said “Tell me what’s on your mind”
You turn to him, with tears in your eyes “Two babies, Con. How do we manage two kids simultaneously when it’s our first time as parents?” You asked and he hears how scared you actually are “I don’t want to disappoint them, Con. I really don’t”
“Honey, you are not going to disappoint our little girls” He told you firmly “I know it’s scary to think about double and it may be hard but I know we can do this” He said reassuringly “We’re going to give it our best and be the best parents to our girls. Through thick and thin, we’re going to be okay because we have each other”
You nodded, smiling softly at him “I can’t believe we’re having twins, bubs”
“I can’t believe it either” Connor smiled “I guess the good things in life comes unexpected, huh? First it was you, then it’s our little munchkins”
You rolled your eyes playfully and poked his side.
Connor was so sappy and you loved it.
xxx
“Not that we don’t love you guys but why have we been called here?” Shawn asks as the six of you (you, Connor, Shawn, Brian, Alessia and Liv) were gathered in the Brashiers’ living room the night of the appointment after Connor shot an EMERGENCY GROUP MEETING @ 9PM !! to their group chat after a few weeks of not being active.
“Yeah, what’s going on?” Alessia asked confusingly “Connor sounded pretty serious over the text and I thought one of y’all got hurt”
You crossed your arms over your chest and glanced at Connor “Do you want to tell them, babe?” You asked.
He was trying to hide his smile, you could see it “I don’t know, hun, do you?”
“Someone better tell us soon or I’ll shoot myself” Brian said dramatically, shooting you two a pointed look.
Connor rolled his eyes at his exaggerations as you rested your hand over your glowing stomach “We’re expecting” You announced.
The four of them gave you a confused look, nodding slowly as Liv spoke up “Yes, babe, we know that. Your bump is showing, you know?”
You rolled your eyes playfully, grinning at her “You didn’t let me finish, Liv!”
“We’re expecting… twins!” Connor broke the news finally “Two girls!”
“What the fuck?” Shawn gawked, looking at you two then to your baby bump “Twins? Two babies? In there? For real?” He asked.
“Twins” You confirmed, smiling.
“Twins!” Alessia cheered “Oh my god, y/n!”
“And we’ve been thinking about it for a while…” Connor said “y/n and I had a long conversation on who we want as our child’s godparents”
“We don’t really know if this is such a thing but since we’re expecting two kids, we want the four of you to be their god parents” You continued “So, Liv and Shawn for our first girl, Brian and Alessia for our second girl”
“If you guys are willing” Connor added “But we’d really like it if it’s you four. We’ve been around each other for a really long time and we really love you guys”
“For real?” Brian asked in disbelief “You have that much trust in us?”
“Of course, we do, Bri” You told him “You guys are the best friends anyone could ever ask for, you know? We deal with each other’s shits and still stick around because we’re like freakin’ glue”
“You guys are going to make me cry!” Liv pouted and you laugh because you already see the tears in her eyes.
“It would be our honoured, you two” Alessia smiles “Seriously, we’re freakin’ honoured”
“We are” Shawn nodded in agreement “And we just know these little girls are lucky to have the best parents in the world”
“Okay, we all look like we’re about to cry” You laugh a little, bringing up your hand to rub your eye “Group hug!”
xxx
34th week
“I can’t believe we made them” You whispered in disbelief as you held one of the girls in your arms, Stacy Brashier to be exact.
“We did” Connor nodded, smiling as he bounced the other girl, Stella Brashier in his arms “They’re the most precious things in the world”
“They really are” You sighed happily “Can they just stay this size forever, Con? I don’t ever want them to grow up”
“I’d wish for that too, babe” He chuckled in respond “Imagine the two of them coming to me when they’re sixteen and telling me they’re going on a date? I think I’d have a stroke right there and then”
You let out a loud laugh, but immediately controlled yourself when baby Stacy started to move in your arms “’M sorry, angel. Go back to sleep” You whispered softly to her.
“Hey,” He called out to you and you turned your head towards him “Thank you for giving birth to our little love bugs” Connor said “I love you so much, baby and I’m the luckiest guy in the world”
“I love you more, handsome” You smiled “And every pain was worth it, now that these girls are in our arms”
“Baby?” Connor calls you again after a few minutes of silent.
You hummed in response as you adjust Stacy in your arms, not looking up from her as you replied “Yeah, bubs?”
“I’m sorry but now that Stella and Stacy are here, only half of my love is yours…. The other half goes to our precious angels”
You let out a soft giggle, remembering his promise to you when he proposed and the words engraved in the inner part of your wedding ring.
You look at Connor again and you could see the playful smile plastered on his face.
“That’s alright, baby” You cooed “As long as I only have to share your love with our girls… Then I don’t have a problem with only getting half of your love, bubs”
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reblog, like and give me your feedbacks!
x rina
TAG LIST:
@hurts-like-hell-xx @connordavidscamera @r3ader @green-lxght
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Where the Moonlight Shines (Part One)
Summary: You’re a junior deputy in Hope County, Montana when things go to hell in a handbasket with the local cult. It’s months before help arrives in the form of the Avengers, taking you down a road you never expected.
Features: Mild violence
Pairing: TBD
Series Warnings: Canon typical violence; depictions/mentions of torture; depictions/mentions of brainwashing; will add more as they become relevant
Notes: Part One has dialogue directly from Far Cry 5; Series will primarily focus on the fallout of Hope County and Rook’s (Reader’s) recovery. While I have through part seven written, posting will likely be every other week if not longer as I go back through for the 1000th time and expand the story even more. Because of this, more warnings may be added. The story diverges entirely from MCU canon. Bucky is part of the team, IW and Endgame don’t happen and Civil War is ignored.
This is a crossover between Far Cry 5 and the MCU
Word Count: 2631
You were the newest Junior Deputy with the Hope County Sheriff’s Department. Newest was a relative term. Hope County rarely saw newcomers, unless they were flocking to that damned Project. You had spent summers there growing up, sure, but there was something different about living there full time. It was a home away from home. You’d returned to Montana on a permanent basis for peace and quiet, away from the hustle and bustle of a more populated area. It was easier to keep to yourself there, even with everyone knowing you. You had healing abilities, something that happened when you were in high school, interning in a science lab. It was something you kept to yourself.
Everyone called you Rook, even the people who had known you since you were a kid. You had started there as a dispatcher when you moved to Hope County, went through the academy when you saw the way things were heading with the Project, and got offered the position two years ago. The one thing you hated about the job was Nancy. If you had to hear Nancy go on one more time about whatever mundane thing was going on in her life, you were going to lose it.
You had been in Hope County a few years when they started causing major issues. The Project at Eden’s Gate. Locals called the members of the Project Peggies. The Project had a dark cloud over it. Suspected kidnappings. Coercing businesses into closing. They had strict policies on alcohol. Namely that it wasn’t allowed. They had seemed innocent enough when they arrived years back. Joseph Seed, the so called ‘Father’, had worked with Father Jerome for a time. You weren’t sure when things started shifting, but they did. You hated working calls dealing with the Project. Especially calls in the Henbane, because inevitably, you would end up dealing with Faith Seed. You figured if you kept to yourself, only interacting when it was required for work, you’d be fine. You were wrong. So terribly wrong.
The real trouble started when you were at the bar in Fall’s End, the Spread Eagle. It was owned by Mary May Fairgrave, who was one of the toughest women you knew and one of your oldest friends. You had just settled in to have a beer and a burger, catching up with her, when trouble walked in.
One of the leaders of the Project at Eden’s Gate came in looking smug as always. You knew which brother it was by the designer clothes he wore and the look of disdain plastered upon his face. John Seed was an arrogant bastard. He was always trying to get Mary May to close up shop, going on about how alcohol was immoral and how it drove people to sin. Preaching about how he had been lost to the vice before his brother found him. You rolled your eyes at him and continued your conversation with the bartender, pretending he wasn’t there. You considered her one of your closest friends in the county outside of Joey Hudson and Staci Pratt. You knew being ignored would only serve to rile him up.
“I’m sorry, I thought it was rude to ignore a customer,” he said, flashing a smile that was so fake it put Barbie to shame.
“What can I get you?” Mary May asked through grit teeth. You watched the interaction with caution. You could never trust a Seed.
“A water, please, and a moment of your time,” he replied. You choked back a laugh. Of course he’d only order water. You took a sip of the drink in front of you, a watered down beer that reminded you of the bonfires in high school, when everything seemed so much more simple. Nights curled up against Staci’s side, his hand never straying from your back. Staci Pratt, ex-boyfriend turned colleague and one of your best friends. You remembered nights spent laughing with Rachel Jessop, now Faith Seed. Before the drugs. Before the Project. You knew Tracey had taken it hard when Rachel joined the cult. You all had. And now there were rumors about her and something called the Bliss. You didn’t like it and investigations into it had turned up nothing, the Seeds stonewalling you at every turn.
“You know, Deputy, it is certainly unbecoming of an officer of the law to be in a place like this,” John said, drawing out the syllables in the word deputy. You narrowed your eyes at him.
“Seed, this is one of the local watering holes. You’d be hard pressed to find an officer who doesn’t come in on a night off,” you snapped. Mary May set the glass of water down on the bar, water sloshing over the side with the force, earning a dirty look from John.
“We want you to stop serving alcohol, Ms. Fairgrave. It’s a temptation for many of our flock,” John said.
“Too damn bad, Seed. This bar was here long before you and it’ll be here long after,” she said.
“We’ll see about that,” you heard him mutter before he spoke again, “I’d hate to see something happen because of one of our more zealous members. We cannot be held accountable for their actions,” he said before standing and walking out the door. As the man left the bar, she gave you a look of concern.
“I don’t trust him or those brothers of his, Rook. Sooner or later something is going to give. Did you hear about the Anderson’s kids? They just up and left, leaving a note for their parents sayin’ they were leaving their life of sin to join the Project,” Mary-May said.
“I’m sure they’re harmless. If they weren’t surely the feds would be closing in on them...hell, maybe even the Avengers. Every time we’ve carried out a welfare check, the person was accounted for,” you said. You wondered if you’d ever believe that yourself.
You had seen things when carrying out those checks that set you on edge. But there was no proof that the Seeds were doing anything illegal, no proof that people were being kidnapped. You couldn’t even get a warrant to search their properties, John Seed made sure of that. Damned Georgia lawyer. He was a massive thorn in the side of the Sheriff's Department. The hands of the department were tied, no matter how much you all hated it.
“Now that’d be a sight, the Avengers here in Hope County,” she said with a shake of her head.
“For all we know, the Project could be an arm of Hydra, now wouldn’t that be something? With the rumors that swirl about those brothers, it wouldn’t surprise me is all I’m saying,” you said.
“Keep talking like that and I’ll send ya to hang out with Zip,” she said as she wiped down the bar. You laughed. Zip Kupka was the local conspiracy theorist. You’d answered more than your fair share of calls out to his place. The only other person who could top Zip for crazy theories was Larry Parker. You sat talking for a while, until she was closing for the night. Things happened in a blur. Something went through the front window as she was flipping the chairs up and hit her. You rushed to her side.
“Mary May, stay awake...stay awake damn it,” you said as you pressed your hand to the gash on her head. You focused on the injury. Your powers were jarring when you hadn’t used them in awhile. Blue encased your hand as you worked to heal the damage. She looked at you stunned.
“That ain’t normal,” she said. You sighed as you helped her sit up. You didn’t see the two figures watching the scene from across the street in their car.
“It’s...complicated. Come on, let’s get some food and water in you,” you said, helping her up. You covered the broken window up while she sat down. You picked up the rock. There was a note attached.
“What’s it say?” she asked.
“Last warning. Close up shop, or else...Mary, I’m taking this down the station,” you said. She frowned.
“I don’t see what that’s going to do. We don’t have proof it came from the Seeds,” she said.
“John Seed has been pressuring you for weeks now to stop selling alcohol and to close down...but you’re probably right. He’ll just say it was an overzealous member of the Project,” you said, feeling defeated. You stayed the night, worried that something else would happen. You left early, glad you had the day off. You headed up to the station to drop the rock and the note off with the Eden’s Gate files before you headed home. Something was coming, you just weren’t so sure what.
-------------------------------------------------
A few days later, Cameron Burke arrived in town, with a warrant from the Federal Marshals for the arrest of Joseph seed. You had a bad feeling about the arrest. None of you were comfortable with the task. Sheriff Whitehorse had tried to talk him out of it. He had no idea what he was doing. You knew it would only provoke the hornets nest, not destroy it.
“You sure you’re alright? You can sit this one out, no judgment,” Staci said as your group headed to the helicopter.
“Alright is subjective, Pratt. I just have a bad feeling about this arrest,” you said. He nodded.
“I don’t like it either but the Marshal won’t change his mind. You know that as well as I do. He’s bullheaded. All he’s gonna do is rile them up,” he said. You nodded in agreement.
“We’ll be alright,” you said. You knew neither of you believed it. Through the flight, you tried re-watching the videos. The videos were the closest thing to evidence of wrong doing. Your stomach churned at the thought. Joseph Seed was shown on video gouging out the eyes of someone.
Pratt landed the helicopter and your feelings of unease grew. Members of the Project stood with guns at the ready. You could hear the sounds of their music playing, some song about Jacob Seed setting the sinners free. You hated the Project music, even if it was catchy. It was creepy.
“Hudson, on the door, watch our backs, don’t let any of these people get in. Rookie, on me,” Sheriff Whitehorse said. Whitehorse was like a father figure. You knew he had reservations about the arrest, which was why he told the Marshal to follow his lead. You didn’t like how cocky the Marshal was. As the three of you entered the church a chill ran down your spine as Joseph Seed spoke. His flock were listening intently, hanging on every word the man said.
“They will come, try to take from us, take our guns, take our freedom, take our faith! We will not let them!” Joseph preached. Anxiety had made itself at home, feeling like a rock in your stomach. Everything in you said to run, far away and never look back.
“Sheriff come on,” Burke said. His impatience grated on you. He didn’t understand just how tenuous the situation was.
“Just hold on Marshal,” Whitehorse said. You were saying a silent prayer, hoping Burke wouldn’t do something stupid.
“We will not let their greed, or their immorality, or their depravity hurt us anymore, there will be no more suffering,” Joseph said before the Marshal interrupted, against the warnings of the sheriff.
“Joseph Seed! I have a warrant issued for your arrest on the suspicion of kidnapping with the intent to harm. Now, I want you to step forward and keep your hands where I can see them,” Burke said. And there it was. Whatever happened now, Burke had all but sealed your fates.
You thought about what you knew about the Seeds. John was a lawyer. You’d had to deal with him on multiple occasions. He was smart, good at what he did. He was the youngest brother and owned a ranch in the valley. Jacob was the oldest, a veteran. When the family bought up St. Francis, up in the Whitetail Mountains, he’d made himself at home there. And then there was Faith Seed. Rachel Jessop. Joseph Seed had taken her under his wing and suddenly, she was known as Faith, Rachel just a memory. You avoided her if you could. She was a friend, once upon a time.
“Here they are, locusts in our garden. See they’ve come from me. They’ve come to take me away from you. They’ve come to destroy all that we’ve built!” Joseph said. The jeering from the crowd grew louder. Your breathing grew more shallow. You were terrified. There were far more of them than there were of you. Even with Hudson at the door, just outside, you were outnumbered and outgunned. Burke made a move for his gun.
“Don’t touch that service weapon!” Whitehorse snapped. He called for calm as Joseph did the same for his congregants.
“We knew this moment would come. We have prepared for it. Go, go, God will not let them take me,” Joseph said, as his siblings moved behind him. He raised his arms in the air, head tilted up toward the ceiling as members of his congregation walked toward the doors.
“I saw when the Lamb opened the first seal and I heard as it were the noise of thunder, one of the four beasts say “come and see” and I saw. And behold, it was a white horse, and hell followed with him,” Joseph said, his gaze falling on you as he held his arms out.
“Rookie, cuff this son of a bitch,” Burke said. You felt a cold sweat form. Why you? Why did you have to be the one to cuff him when the Marshal was the one who came to arrest him? You were there as back up, not to be the arresting officer. You looked at him. You felt the eyes of all four Seeds on you, curious about what you would do. You were frozen to the spot. You could refuse, walk away, pretend it never happened. Live your life.
“Rookie, come on,” Burke said, getting impatient. You went against your gut. Your hands shook as you took your cuffs from your belt. You closed your eyes as you locked them in place, feeling as though you had just set something in motion you couldn’t take back.
As you got Joseph into the chopper, his people snapped into action. They were not going to let you go. Even as Pratt went to take off, people were still climbing on the chopper and soon, it was falling from the sky as Joseph sang Amazing Grace. You blacked out for a moment, opening your eyes to see Joseph staring at you. You reached for the dangling headset as Nancy’s voice came over the radio. Joseph responded, and when you heard her call him Father, you cursed her out in your head. You should have known she was one of them.
“Let the Reaping begin!” Joseph yelled. As much as you wanted to help your colleagues, your friends, you knew you couldn’t save them and yourself. You got yourself out and took off. You found Burke and the two of you attempted to make a get away, only to end up going off the bridge and into the water. When you next came to, you found yourself cuffed to a bed in a bunker, only to find it belonged to Dutch, a prepper who saved you from the Seeds and the Project when you came on shore. You couldn’t help but think back to what Whitehorse had said before you’d headed to the church. Sometimes it’s best to leave well enough alone.
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44. :)
blink and you might miss (1/1)
summary: Chloe has an idea for making movie nights fun. The jury’s still out on that, Beca thinks. Rated M/E. I’m so sorry.
word count: 3.6k
written in response to prompt 44: “Cuddle me.”
“Movie nights are terrible,” Beca grumbles. She’s brushing her hair quickly, staring at her reflection in the mirror of Chloe’s vanity.
Chloe nods, primarily focused on all the smooth skin on display - the way the muscles of Beca’s back bunch and jump with each movement of her arm as the brush passes through her hair.
Sighing, Chloe leans back, content to listen to Beca’s complaints, so long as it means that Beca gets to spend more time with her.
Their little friends-with-benefits scenario started about two months ago, near the beginning of the school year. A new year - Beca’s junior year and Chloe’s…second junior year - and Beca was newly single. Chloe would be remiss if she didn’t admit that she had been waiting for Beca as patiently as possible. This - this isn’t the absolute best scenario, but she’ll take it if it means she gets to have Beca, even for just a few stolen moments.
Somehow, they found their way together, amidst it all.
Beca sighs, putting the brush down and turning back to Chloe. Her eyes are sharp, bright, and thoughtful as she assesses Chloe for a moment.
“What?” Chloe asks, raking her hand through her own hair lazily. She doesn’t feel inclined to move for a while.
“Nothing,” Beca admits. “Just admiring the view.” She realizes belatedly the exact words she just expelled and flushes, crossing her arms. “Shut up,” she says quickly.
Chloe stifles a grin and instead raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t say anything.” She pats the bed. “Get back here, you nerd and cuddle me.”
It isn’t until much later when Chloe’s getting ready for bed and Beca is long gone that she’s struck with sudden inspiration.
Beca can’t quite believe this is when Chloe is choosing to this.
But she can believe it a little – especially after Chloe had been so delighted by her discovery just last week.
(“Shh,” Chloe hushes, brushing a wet finger over Beca’s lips. “You’re going to wake up the entire house, babe.”
Beca writhes, needing Chloe’s fingers back in her. Her eyes nearly cross at the sensation of Chloe’s fingers rubbing expertly at her clit, arching her back once more. “I don’t care,” she murmurs before she can stop herself. The air feels thicker and heavier, weighing down on her chest. Her hand rakes up Chloe’s back, trying to pull Chloe closer to her if it’s even possible at this point. “Please,” she whimpers. She’s so fucking close.
“You don’t care?” Chloe asks, interest tinging her voice. “So you wouldn’t care if I fucked you in front of all our friends?” Her fingers press deliberately and firmly into Beca.
It’s something about the timbre of Chloe’s voice and the little rasp that forms at the end of her inquiry. Beca groans as the imagery assaults her senses. Chloe had been teasing her all night, building her up only to stop and then start all over again. Now that Chloe’s fingers are being merciful, Beca’s brain cries out in relief and her defenses fall nearly immediately.
Rocking her hips up, Beca cries out, nodding against Chloe’s neck, enjoying the little puff of air that Chloe lets out as her arm tenses between them. “Yes,” Beca mumbles. “Yes, God – yes.”
She cannot be held accountable for what she agrees to when Chloe is two fingers deep inside her - no matter how true the statement might be.)
Beca knew she was in trouble the moment she entered the living room and saw the way all the Bellas were already arranged. There was no available seat except-
“Bec, sit here,” Chloe had said cheerfully, patting her lap. She even lifted the edge of the blanket for good measure, eyes wide. The picture of innocence.
Beca had rolled her eyes and ignored the way Amy snickered at her and the general giggling that had happened from everybody else.
She allowed Chloe to drape the blanket over both of them, nearly up to their shoulders. Chloe had then comfortably wrapped a loose arm around Beca’s waist and leaned her chin on Beca’s shoulder. “Tell me if you want to stop,” she whispered. Beca then felt Chloe’s hand trail up her inner thigh.
Beca did not object.
…Which why Beca is now struggling to keep her eyes open and focus on at least the opening credits of the movie. Chloe is rubbing her through her shorts – her dark, almost black shorts, a color for which Beca is grateful because of how wet she is at the moment. She can’t quite believe how bold Chloe is being, teasing her like this in front of literally everybody. Beca briefly sends a quick prayer of thanks up to the Heavens for the fact that Aubrey no longer lives in the Bella house. She’s not sure what she would do if Aubrey ever caught them.
Chloe’s teasing continues on and off throughout the movie for at least half an hour. By then, Beca is trying to stop from both squirming and crying out because of how close she is to coming. As she shifts backwards, she finally feels it.
Chloe pauses too, seemingly realizing that Beca has noticed what she had kept hidden under her loose sweatpants.
“Oh,” Beca whispers, low enough that only Chloe can hear.
“Okay?” Chloe asks back, lips warm against the shell of Beca’s ear.
Beca isn’t going to object – not when she feels herself clench around nothing at the thought of Chloe fucking her with her strap-on in front of all their friends. She nods, trying not to be too eager, but she knows Chloe knows anyway, because Chloe has a knack for these things.
God, she feels dirty.
Beca exhales as Chloe shifts the fabric of her shorts further, to accommodate their positions. The fabric pulls at Beca’s skin, but she could care less. She’s only hyper aware of how fucking full she is, sitting on Chloe’s lap fully, with a fucking sex toy inside her.
“Fuck,” she hisses. It’s less discreet than she thinks because Stacie’s eyes swivel to her and her eyes narrow either in suspicion or confusion. Beca’s not entirely sure how her brain manages to fire any cylinders at all at this point, but she quickly shakes her head and whispers to Stacie, “nothing, just – Chloe’s hands were a little cold against my arm. Er. Leg.” She tries not to waver, but her voice sounds higher-pitched than usual. Beca tries to make up for it by fixing Stacie with a confident-enough expression (she thinks).
Overall, it’s quick-enough thinking and appears to satisfy Stacie because she turns back to face the screen. Beca is only aware that it’s some romcom of some sorts starring Justin Timberlake and Mila Kunis – Stacie’s choice for the night, if Beca recalls the schedule well enough.
It doesn’t matter though, because Chloe’s arm is tightening around her waist while the other presses firmly on her thigh, pushing their bodies closer together. Beca stifles a groan, but she’s sure Chloe feels the tremble that rips through her body.
Beca had been dying for Chloe to bring out this toy again since the first time they used it.
Now that she’s confronted with it – literally – she can’t believe they waited this long at all. Chloe presses a quick kiss into her shoulder, her breath puffing out against Beca’s neck before she whispers “good work, baby,” in a soft, gentle voice that belies the way her fingers are digging into Beca’s thigh. Beca stifles another sharp inhale and allows her thigh to shift to the side. Chloe’s fingers immediately trail gently up her inner thigh, rubbing back and forth in a seemingly soothing manner.
Beca tries to breathe regularly – tries to fixate on how solid Chloe feels underneath her. God, she needs to be even closer – she needs Chloe to-
“Take them off,” she murmurs, as quietly as she dares. Chloe’s fingers pause and she seems to contemplate Beca’s words.
“Can’t,” Chloe replies, right in her ear. It makes her jump, but the action itself only reminds her that the strap-on is buried inside her. She shifts again, a little restlessly, wanting to take off her shorts completely. Granted, the shorts are loose enough that it’s not entirely painful, but it’s not the most comfortable.
Beca bites her lip, hoping Chloe won’t hate this too much. She groans and stretches her arms, before lifting herself off the toy completely. She has to bite her lip to stifle the whimper that threatens to escape and as quickly as she dares, quickly shimmies her shorts halfway down her thighs all while pretending to just re-adjust herself on Chloe’s lap. Chloe’s fingers tighten against her hips, and soon enough, she’s sinking back down comfortably – though as comfortably as she dares, taking each inch of the toy while holding her breath.
A quick glance around indicates that nobody has noticed or cared, which Beca is grateful for.
“Sorry,” she murmurs, tilting her head towards Chloe.
Chloe chuckles then, low against the back of Beca’s neck. “Desperate,” she teases. Beca flushes at Chloe’s knowing tone, hating that Chloe can read her so well – especially hating how much she wants Chloe at any given point in the day. Still, Chloe squeezes her hips comfortingly and moves her hands to trace little patterns on her bare thighs. “You’re okay,” she reassures in a barely-there whisper against Beca’s ear. Chloe’s hips shift then making Beca’s eyes very nearly cross.
Beca is not okay. She would never be okay again. Every inch of skin touching Chloe’s body only served to stoke the fire inside her. Greedily, she thinks, she would much prefer Chloe’s fingers in her, but the thought of whether she wanted them in addition to the strap-on only makes her body tremble again with want and she quickly banishes the thought from her mind for the time being.
“You two enjoying cuddling over there?” Stacie asks, voice low and teasing, just barely audible over the sound of the movie.
Chloe takes the opportunity to pull Beca closer and shift her hips in a way that Beca has to force herself not to squeeze her eyes shut. “Yes,” Chloe responds cheerfully. “Beca loves cuddling.”
Snickers from her so-called friends. “Does she?” Amy asks. “She always hits me whenever I try.”
“Maybe it’s because you try to sit on her before hugging her,” Cynthia-Rose chimes in.
Beca feels Chloe’s nails dig into her inner thigh. “Yes,” Beca manages to croak out. “This is fun.”
Their friends divert their attention once more and Beca exhales.
She hates this – she hates Chloe for likely enjoying it. She hates herself for enjoying it as much as she is at the moment. God, she can’t imagine the looks on their friends’ faces if they knew. Acting on instinct, Beca reaches down under the blanket, grabs Chloe’s hand and pulls it between her legs hastily. Chloe’s hand stiffens at first before she realizes what Beca is doing and she mercifully rubs at Beca’s swollen clit and down to circle her entrance around the toy as best as she can, but only for a few seconds before her wet fingers are trailing across Beca’s thigh and up, up - out from under the blanket. Beca blinks and dares to tilt her head a little to watch as Chloe slowly and deliberately flicks her tongue out to taste her fingers.
That damn eyebrow rises slowly as Chloe captures her own fingers with her mouth, cheeks hollowing in a purposeful show of sucking her fingers clean.
God, Beca hates her.
She whips her head back around and tries to refocus on the movie, ignoring the little pleased hum she feels vibrate from Chloe’s chest. Chloe’s hands mercifully find their way back to her body, resting low enough just under her belly, but Beca’s sure that the torture will resume soon enough. She shivers, drawing the blanket up more comfortably around their bodies, ensuring that nobody gets a free show in addition to the movie they’re watching (which has more sex scenes than Beca expected – she should really pay more attention to the synopses of the movies Stacie chooses).
Beca is distracted once again by Chloe shifting underneath her. This time, Chloe lifts her bodily as she readjusts on the couch, getting her legs into a more comfortable position. Now, Beca’s legs are spread a little over Chloe’s thighs and she quickly adjusts, biting back a groan when she has to lift herself and shift a little.
This is definitely not the most comfortable position and Beca is horrified to realizes that she has to sit through this for at least another hour or so.
“You’re sexy,” Chloe breathes out. Beca can practically feel the smile against her shoulder.
“You’re a tease,” Beca retorts out of the corner of her mouth.
Before Chloe can reply, the movie is suddenly paused and Beca’s entire body stiffens as Amy stands up. She feels Chloe’s hands tense on her thighs as well. Both their bodies lock up at the same moment and Beca is sure they’ve been caught.
“I need to use the bathroom real quick,” Amy announces. “Give me fifteen minutes.”
Everybody groans and stands up as well, stretching their limbs. “I’m going to get more snacks,” Stacie says, gesturing for Jessica and Flo to follow her. “Beca, do you wanna come? Or are you comfortable on Chloe’s lap?”
The sudden question startles Beca from where she had been subtly trying to shift and alleviate some of the pressure. Briefly, her brain fizzles out as she thinks of the many ways she could answer Stacie’s question. Glancing behind her, she sees Chloe is appearing nonchalant, on her phone, scrolling through a social media feed. Incredulous and mildly jealous of Chloe’s easy poise, Beca turns back to Stacie and shakes her head. “I’ll stay,” she says, surprised at how steady her voice sounds.
Chloe’s fingers move to rest lightly on her clit in response.
(Beca’s not sure it’s a reward - not when her entire body feels like it’s about to combust.)
Eventually, all the Bellas file out within the next two minutes, with Emily being the last and throwing Beca and Chloe a friendly wave on her way out.
(Nobody ever bothers staying, knowing that it might be a while before they reconvene.)
“Fuck. Thank God,” Beca groans, the moment they’re out of earshot. She stands, letting the blanket fall to the ground and shucking her shorts down so they dangle precariously off one ankle. She finally takes in Chloe’s own attire now that the lights are on and shining down on them like a spotlight on their sins. Chloe’s oversized top dons a ridiculously cute pattern of dancing penguins while her sweatpants are tugged down enough to reveal the shiny blue strap-on. Beca notes that Chloe came prepared - the fact that she’s sitting on an old hoodie, likely to stop them both from creating a mess on the couch. This was so premeditated that Beca kind of hates her for it. “Fuck, you’re going to make me come right now,” she says in a hoarse voice, moving to re-straddle Chloe’s lap.
“Cute,” Chloe comments with an infuriatingly cheerful smile. Her hands glide confidently around to hold Beca’s hips.
The placating tone she uses is diminished by the pure desire Beca sees in her eyes. Beca goes for a different angle, looping her arms around Chloe’s neck and leaning close so that their foreheads are barely touching.
Sinking down, Beca makes sure that Chloe hears every last drawn-out vowel in her moan. “I’m so wet,” Beca whispers. “Please, Chlo. Please, I’ll come - just for you.” She bites her lip, lifting herself up and sinking back down again, a quiet whimper escaping her. It’s a testament to how comfortable they are with each other at this point, the fact that Beca knows exactly how to get that gobsmacked expression on Chloe’s face. The thrill of satisfaction rushes through Beca among other things when she sinks all the way down on Chloe’s lap when she takes in the hazy expression on Chloe’s face. Chloe’s possessive streak runs hot, Beca has come to know, especially where Beca is concerned. It’s something that she’d like to address later, perhaps when they’re not having risky sex nearly in plain view of all their friends.
When Chloe doesn’t stop her, she does it again, biting her lip so hard that she’s afraid that she draws blood for a moment. “You’ve been teasing me all night,” Beca murmurs. She leans in to kiss Chloe, lingering for a moment with an open-mouthed, barely there brush. Chloe exhales heavily into the kiss, tilting her head to better accommodate Beca’s lips. Chloe’s grip tightens on her hips, pulling her closer.
“Are you…at least enjoying the movie night?” Chloe asks, between increasingly desperate kisses. Beca nearly crows in triumph, seeing that Chloe no longer cares about having any sort of control over her. She wonders if she can convince Chloe to bring her back to her bedroom.
Chloe’s thoughts follow along the same line. It had been fun, but Chloe has half a mind to just bring Beca back up to her bedroom. The insert had been rubbing against her all night as well, and she was close to combusting on the spot. She’s not even sure how she’s forming words, let alone keeping up the charade of watching the movie, only focused on ensuring Beca was entertained or at least distracted enough to not be bored.
Beca takes pause at the question, wonder coloring her features for a moment. Chloe blinks out of her daze, staring up at Beca with an adorably confused expression on her face. “I - yes,” Beca answers as truthfully as she can. She felt like most of it was torture, but it wasn’t entirely terrible. “Very much so,” she breathes.
“Yeah?” Chloe asks breathlessly before leaning up to nip at Beca’s lower lip. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” Chloe continues. Beca realizes she had been terribly mistaken that Chloe was giving in. “You enjoyed the thought of getting caught - of somebody figuring out what you were doing.” Chloe’s hand comes up to grip the back of her head, pulling her in so their foreheads are touching. “You couldn’t help yourself, could you? You’re so fucking wet right now.”
Beca gasps - whether from the sudden grip Chloe has on her or the spectacularly surprising “fuck” that Chloe just dropped - and only manages to wrap her arms around Chloe’s shoulders before lifting her hips once more. “Shut up,” she grumbles, eyes falling closed. “Before they come back,” she gets out, stiltedly.
“They won’t be back for a while,” Chloe murmurs. “Try not to make a mess on the couch.”
Beca groans, partly in complaint and partly in desire when the tip of the strap hits a particularly sensitive spot with a strategic shift of Chloe’s hips. “You try not - not to make a mess,” she says, moaning embarrassingly right in the middle of her retort.
Chloe’s lips seek Beca’s out again, a surprisingly graceful and sensual kiss for their current activities. Beca whimpers into Chloe’s mouth, enjoying the sensation of Chloe’s warm body pressed against hers while their lips glide slowly together. It’s something that Beca has enjoyed recently - getting to know the different types of kisses. This kiss is currently verging on hungry, though they’re both adept at managing the pace of their kisses now and Beca slowly brings it back down to mildly desperate before exhaling heavily against Chloe’s lips.
“Are you close?” Chloe asks against her mouth. Beca’s eyes flicker open and she sees the sheer pleasure on Chloe’s face: it’s evident in the way her brow furrows, the flush on her cheeks, her swollen lips. What gets her is the way Chloe’s eyes are blown and wide once her eyelids flick open. She stares back at Beca in a way that makes Beca shiver from the vulnerability of it all.
Beca had been close, but upon seeing Chloe’s expression, she’s pretty much right there- “Fuck, yes,” she groans out before reattaching their lips. Her entire body seems to coil and tense, as does Chloe’s beneath her. Chloe whimpers once, head falling back against the couch as she lets Beca ride out her orgasm with ease. “Shit,” she mumbles, squeezing her eyes shut as she forces herself back down on Chloe’s lap, mouth falling open with how full she feels.
Beca’s body collapses against Chloe’s and she grips Chloe’s shoulders tightly before pushing herself back, dazed.
“That was okay right?” Chloe’s hands glide up and down her thighs comfortingly as they sit in silence for a couple of minutes.
Beca almost doesn’t want to leave because Chloe is warm and comfortable, but she’s growing mildly uncomfortable with the toy nestled inside her. “Yeah,” she mumbles. “More than.” She blinks, battling back the little wave of arousal that courses through her when she slowly extricates herself from Chloe’s grasp and settles back on her lap so the toy slips out and rests between them.
Chloe exhales heavily, her hands still rubbing soothingly along Beca’s body. She tugs Beca in for a quick embrace, lips seeking hers out briefly. “We should clean up,” Chloe murmurs before pressing her lips against Beca’s forehead. “Change. Before they get back.” Her words come out as staggered as Beca’s thoughts feel, so she agrees, if only to quickly relieve herself of the stickiness she feels between her legs.
They manage to make it back onto the couch. Beca tiredly allows Chloe to tug her into a half hug, her legs draped over Chloe’s lap comfortably, before Chloe tugs the blanket up around them. She’s comfortably snug in a spare pair of Chloe’s sweatpants and and equally warm sweater.
Her nose presses lightly into Chloe’s neck and she tries not to inhale too greedily, enjoying the scent that is so distinctly Chloe.
Chloe’s giggle is light and muffled when Beca tugs up the hood of her sweater over her head. “Tired?” she teases.
“Shut up and cuddle me, you psycho.”
fin. fic tag.
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Home: Chapter 5/8
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I do not own Pitch Perfect or Harry Potter of any of their characters
Fifth Year
It went on and on.
His attacks getting more and more furious, her countering becoming clumsy and tired.
She wondered if she should just give up. If she'd known what he was casting, she might have done. It was the not knowing that kept her on her feet and throwing back defensive spells. Not knowing what his spells would do to her.
"You're on the wrong side, Beca," he yelled, speaking to her finally.
Beca just shook her head, too exhausted to speak.
"You can't win. The Potter boy will die. All of you will die." The curses kept flying. "Stop now and he'll let you live."
Beca took the opportunity to send a stunning spell at him but he deflected it with ease.
He shook his head, disappointed.
"You're on the wrong side," he said, raising his arm to attack again.
Beca toyed with the bacon on her plate one Friday morning, staring down at it without much desire to eat.
Hogwarts had gotten significantly less fun this year, and that wasn't just because it was their fifth year so they had to study for their O.W.L.s.
The mood around the castle had changed. There had never been such a divide amongst the students and even some professors as there was now. There were the people who believed Harry Potter. Who believed Voldemort was back. Believed he was the one who'd killed Cedric, and had tried to kill Harry too.
There were those who believed the Daily Prophet. Who believed Harry was an attention seeking liar.
Then there were those like Malfoy who knew He was back because of who their parents were, but were happy to support the rumours spread by the Daily Prophet.
And then there were those like Beca. Beca knew for a fact He was back, but she didn't take any joy in it like Malfoy or his other friends did. She knew because she'd seen the Dark Mark on her dad's arm, standing out sharply against his pale skin. She'd seen Death Eaters coming and going all summer. She'd seen them greeting her dad like an old friend. He'd asked her to keep out of his way for most of the summer, and she'd been only too happy to oblige.
Beca was snapped out of her thoughts by the impatient looking owl standing before her, nipping her hand with its beak.
"Ow," she said, snatching her hand back. The owl hooted and held out its leg. "Sorry."
She took the paper and unfolded it as the owl took flight.
'Same time, same place?'
She recognised Chloe's handwriting immediately, and she smiled. She looked across the Great Hall to the Hufflepuff table where Chloe was sitting. As if she'd been waiting for her, Chloe looked up. Beca nodded, and Chloe smiled before looking back down at the newspaper in her hand.
There was one good thing so far about fifth year.
Beca and Chloe had started dating. Secretly.
After their kiss at the Yule Ball, they had met up a few more times, just the two of them. But with their classes, homework, and the excitement of the Triwizard Tournament, they hadn't really had much of a chance to spend time together.
They'd written to each other constantly over the summer, both frustrated that they had to wait days to get a response, but with each letter they grew closer together.
So, upon their return to Hogwarts, Beca and Chloe decided to date in secret. Beca was too afraid of her dad finding out for them to be open about it, so they would sneak around whenever and wherever they could.
For the past few weeks they'd been meeting in the grounds just outside the castle. It was the same place they'd shared their first kiss, and they found they could use a secret passageway which lead them outside to get to it. The hard part was getting from their dormitories to the passageway itself, but once they were through and outside it was harder for them to get caught. Teachers didn't patrol the grounds as often as they did the inside of the castle, and they'd managed to find themselves a bit of a blind spot.
Beca had to admit that all their sneaking around and walking the castle and grounds at night made her feel sick and anxious, and Chloe would have agreed if they'd discussed it, but they didn't see another way. Beca didn't want to think what would happen when they were eventually caught, but the alternative meant not seeing Chloe at all.
The Hufflepuffs and Slytherins only had Care of Magical Creatures together, and Flitwick had been made to disband the choir after Umbridge refused to give them permission to reform. They weren't able to visit each other's house common room, or even see each other between classes due to heightened security.
They tried on one occasion to sit together in the library and talk quietly, but every time they opened their mouths they were loudly shushed by Madam Pince, so the whole thing was pointless.
So they snuck around after hours, and prayed they wouldn't get caught.
That night, Beca sat in the gloomy green light of the common room, watching the time tick by on her watch.
"You're going to get caught one of these days you know?" Stacie said, not looking up from her book. They were the only two left in the common room, which wasn't unusual at this time, but Beca was still thankful for it. It was much easier sneaking out without a room of prying eyes.
"Yeah, I know," Beca said rubbing her eyes. She was tired. It was the third time this week they were doing this, and Beca hadn't been sleeping well. "We just don't know what else to do."
"You could try not being randy teenagers?" Stacie said.
"It isn't like that," Beca said, blushing furiously. "We just talk most nights. She just… She gets me, you know? She's like… She feels like home."
Stacie softened. "I'm not trying to ruin these late night dates. I actually think they're super cute. I just don't want you to get caught. Especially with Umbridge doing these crazy detentions."
"I know," Beca said. "This whole situation is far from ideal." She looked at her watch. "I gotta go."
"Be careful," Stacie said, looking up as Beca left the common room.
It was a quick journey to the entrance of the passageway, and Beca made it without running into anyone. She slipped behind a tapestry, tapped a loose stone three times with her wand, and crawled on her hands and knees down the short passageway which was revealed when the stones parted. She tapped the stone wall at the other end three times and again, the stones parted to let her out before sealing shut behind her. Sometimes it felt like the castle really was encouraging them to break rules.
When the cold air hit her face she felt calmer. She kept to the shadows and made her way to the place where Chloe was meeting her.
She was the first to arrive and she sat on the grass with her back pressed into the wall, and she waited.
Soon she heard the slight grinding noise of the wall opening, and she braced herself. Either Chloe or a professor would be turning the corner at any moment, and she wouldn't know which one until it was too late.
A shadowy figure emerged and got closer and closer, and then they were right in front of her. Beca saw the red hair and blue eyes which were just visible in the moonlight and she felt herself relax. Chloe sat down beside Beca and they hugged without saying a word.
Their tight embrace quickly lead to a kiss. Beca's hands were in Chloe's hair, holding her close as if afraid she might be snatched away at any moment. When they stopped kissing they rested their foreheads together, eyes closed but smiling. Both breathing heavily.
"Hi," Beca whispered.
"Hi," was Chloe's whispered reply.
And they leaned in to kiss again.
"What on Earth do you think you're doing?!" A shrill voice demanded, the light from their wand falling over them.
Beca's stomach sank like a stone.
Professor McGonagall was standing in front of them, her mouth open in shock, her wand held above her, showering them in light.
There was nothing they could do, or say.
"Come with me, both of you!" She snapped, and all they could do was follow.
Chloe had started sniffing on the way to McGonagall's office, and Beca reached out to take her hand. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
Chloe took it, and used her other hand to wipe her eyes. "Me too," she whispered back.
"In here!" McGonagall said. She saw the two girls holding hands and seemed to soften ever so slightly. "Sit down."
They did.
Professor McGonagall sat behind her desk and folded her arms. "Well?"
Beca glanced over at Chloe who seemed incapable of forming words. So, her eyes fixed on her knees, Beca started talking.
"I know we shouldn't have professor," Beca said once she'd finished her explanation. "We just… We didn't know what to do."
"Is all of this true Miss Beale?" McGonagall asked.
Chloe nodded and sniffed again, wiping her eyes.
"Anything to add?"
"Just that we're sorry, professor," Chloe said.
McGonagall sighed. "I'm disappointed in you ladies. I had thought that you were both smart enough to know that sneaking around the school and into the grounds after hours is an incredibly foolish thing to do. Especially in these times where we have dangerous wizards and witches out there, and… and even in this castle."
They both looked up.
"If you had been caught by a… a different teacher then this could have been much more serious. Not that it's not serious now, because it is. Very serious. That being said," she cleared her throat slightly. Beca and Chloe desperately wanted to glance at each other, to confirm what they were both thinking, that the professor was acting… weird. But they didn't dare look away from her, and McGonagall carried on talking. "That being said," she repeated, "I cannot pretend that I don't understand why you did it. I was once in a similar position myself… And, well, those were different times, it wasn't even legal then, but what I'm trying to say is I understand. And I am sorry that you have not felt comfortable or safe enough to be yourselves at this school."
"It's not the school's fault professor," Beca said, finally glancing at Chloe, "it's my dad. If he found out about me and Chloe he…" Her voice cracked and Chloe reached across and took her hand. "He can't find out professor. Please."
"And he won't. Not from me, not because of this," McGonagall said, gently.
"Thank you," Beca said, sinking into her chair with relief.
"In terms of your punishment," McGonagall said, trying to regain some of her stern composure, "I will be taking 50 points from both Slytherin and Hufflepuff, and you will each receive a week's detention."
"Yes professor," Beca said, thinking they'd gotten off lightly.
"Thank you professor," Chloe said, thinking the same thing.
"Before you return to your dormitories I must press upon you the importance of not doing this again. We are living in dark and troubling times and it is not safe to do what you're doing," McGonagall said.
"We won't do it again," Chloe said.
"We promise," Beca added.
And McGonagall surprised them both by smiling, just slightly. "Miss Beale, if I could offer some advice, you may wish to speak to your head of house professor Sprout. If I'm not mistaken she has been happily married to her wife Rosalyn for 20 years. I believe she may be able to offer you some wise counsel. I am afraid I cannot say the same for you Miss Mitchell, however my door is always open should you wish to talk."
"Thank you," Beca said again. "I mean it, thank you professor. I'm sorry we let you down."
"Very well. I shall send you the dates and times of your detentions on Monday. Now, off to bed please, both of you. Separate beds if you would be so kind," McGonagall said.
"Ahem, ahem," a voice said from the doorway, making them all jump.
They turned to see Professor Umbridge standing there, smiling sweetly, her hair up in pink rollers.
"Can I help you Dolores?" McGonagall asked. Her voice lost all the warmth it had moments ago.
"I was just checking that these two are receiving the appropriate punishment for sneaking around school after hours," she said. Her voice was light and airy but it filled Beca full of dread.
"There punishment has been decided thank you very much," McGonagall said. "Girls, off to bed please."
"Just one moment," Umbridge said, her voice rising slightly higher. "I don't believe a week's worth of detention is suitable punishment, do you? After all, this isn't the first offence, is it? According to young Draco Malfoy, and some of the other Slytherins, you've been out and about quite a bit, haven't you Miss Mitchell?"
Beca glanced up at Professor McGonagall, but she wasn't looking at her. She was staring at Umbridge with such undisguised fury and hatred Beca was amazed Umbridge could carry on smiling.
"Yes, professor," Beca said.
"And did you join her on these occasions Miss Beale?"
"No," Beca said, quickly. "No, tonight was the first time. I was on my own before. Just looking for places to meet."
"Well, in that case Miss Beale you may keep your current punishment of a week's detention with Professor McGonagall, as this was your first offence," Umbridge said, before turning to face Beca. "Now you, Miss Mitchell, will need something more severe. I think two weeks of detention with me for a start. And perhaps an Owl home to your father? I know him quite well, and I know he'd appreciate this kind of information."
"No," Professor McGonagall said, sharply. "You are not her head of house, and you were not involved in catching her breaking any rules. If Professor Snape is unhappy with the punishment I've decided on then he may discuss it with me. This has nothing to do with you, Dolores."
"Oh but I think you'll find it has, Minerva. There's been a new educational decree, you see. And I am now Hogwarts High Inquisitor, which gives me more powers than a simple teacher or head of house would have," Umbridge said, her voice as sickly sweet as it was possible to be.
"Professor," Beca said, looking up at McGonagall, tears filling her eyes now, "please don't let her do this."
"Professor McGonagall has no power here, Miss Mitchell," Umbridge said, her voice suddenly sharp. "Let's make it three weeks of detention, shall we?"
Beca swallowed hard. Chloe opened her mouth to argue but Beca shook her head.
"Very well," McGonagall said. "You've made your point. May I escort these two back to their dormitories?"
Umbridge smiled. "Very good, Professor."
"Come with me, you two," McGonagall said, her voice shaking with suppressed anger.
They didn't speak again as they walked the silent corridors and of the deserted school. They stopped off at the Hufflepuff common room first, and McGonagall allowed them to say a quick goodnight.
"Thank you for lying to her like that," Chloe said softly, squeezing Beca into a tight hug. "It's going to be okay, you know? We'll think of something."
Beca nodded and tried to smile. "Night Chloe."
"Goodnight."
McGonagall then walked Beca down towards the Slytherin dungeons.
"I'm going to do all I can, Miss Mitchell," she said. "I promise you that."
"It's okay, professor. I imagine she'll have sent the Owl before she even spoke to us. Whatever happens I'll just have to handle it," Beca said, feeling tired and emotionally drained.
"If I have to go to the headmaster about this, I will," McGonagall said as they reached the entrance to the common room.
Beca smiled and shook her head. "I think he has enough to be dealing with professor. Voldemort is back, you know? There's a war coming. I'm sorry we dragged you into this. Thank you for your help," Beca said. "Goodnight."
McGonagall's hand touched Beca's arm lightly. "I will help you in anyway I can," she said softly. "I promise you that."
And then she turned and left.
Beca spent the next few days on edge, waiting for a response from her father. It was the not knowing that was killing her. Not knowing if he knew, not knowing how or when he would respond. It was tying her stomach in knots. Her heart beat painfully fast every time the post arrived. She felt the rush of relief when nothing was delivered to her, which was quickly followed by the punch in the stomach of knowing it had to come soon.
Detention with Umbridge was almost a welcome distraction.
And it wasn't that she particularly enjoyed carving 'I must obey school rules' over and over again into the back of her hand, but the pain at least gave her something to focus on.
Chloe had been beside herself the first time she'd seen the scars on Beca's hand.
"Is that what she's making you do?! Write lines with your own blood?! She's sick! There's something wrong with her, tell-"
"Hey," Beca had said softly, "it's okay. Professor Snape has given me something to stop the pain, I just need to soak it in Murtlap essence." Chloe opened her mouth to argue, but Beca cut her off. "I know it's really fucked up. But I can deal with this, okay?"
"Okay," Chloe said with a sigh. "But I really don't like this. She shouldn't be able to get away with it."
"I know," Beca said. "But this is just how it is for now. She won't be here forever, the other teachers will see to that if Fred and George don't do it first."
But as calm and composed as Beca was trying to seem in front of Chloe, inside she was falling apart.
The pain in her hand was horrendous, but it was nothing compared to the constant anxiety of not knowing when the reaction from her dad would come.
After two weeks of detention, with the letters on the back of her hand now refusing to heal, a howler arrived for Beca.
"Just get it over with," Stacie said as the smoking red envelope quivered in front of her.
With a trembling hand Beca opened the envelope and soon the screaming voice of her father echoed around the Great Hall.
He told her that she was a disgrace, that she was disgusting, that she was better off dead like her mother.
Some Slytherins around her began laughing, but most of the Great Hall was silent. If she'd looked at the head table she would have seen Umbridge smiling serenely, and McGonagall, Flitwick and Sprout staring at Umbridge with cold fury. Through the tears in her eyes Beca saw Chloe get up off her seat and make her way over. Stacie had taken her un-cut hand and was squeezing it tightly, as the howler went on and on and -
"Reducto!"
It was gone. Turned into smoke and ash.
Professor McGonagall was standing close to where the howler had been, her wand raised. "That's quite enough of that nonsense," she said. She turned to Chloe who had just arrived at the Slytherin table. "Miss Beale, perhaps you would like to take Miss Mitchell outside for some fresh air on this lovely Saturday morning?"
"Yes professor," Chloe said. She gently took Beca's hand. "Come on," she said softly.
Beca stood and allowed Chloe to lead her out of the Great Hall. She could feel the hundreds of pairs of eyes burning into her back, but she didn't care anymore. She just wanted it to stop. She wanted everything to stop.
"It's okay," Chloe said, her voice still calm and soft. They walked towards the lake and soon they were sat on the grass, Beca wrapped protectively in Chloe's arms. "It's okay, we'll think of something. I won't let him hurt you, I promise."
And Beca was too tired to argue. Too tired to point out that her dad was a powerful dark wizard. Too tired to remind her that he was stronger than any of them. That he could do what he wanted. She was too tired.
So just closed her eyes, and let Chloe hold her. She focused on Chloe's calming words and tried not to think about what would happen when summer arrived, and she would have to go home.
#home#bechloe/Harry Potter au#bechloe/hpau#hpau#Harry Potter au#bechloe au#bechloe#au#Pitch Perfect#pitch perfect fanfic#pitch perfect fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic#Beca x Chloe#beca#chloe#beca mitchell#chloe beale#stacie#stacie conrad
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14 Days of BeChloe Valentines
DAY 02 - DETECTIVE CHLOE BEALE
Author's Prompt: Beca Mitchell is a famous music producer. She has been getting threats against her life, and the LA PD is called in to investigate. This is the story of how Detective Chloe Beale met Beca Mitchell. [A prequel to my story in my First Sentence, Last Sentence series {Chapter 13}].
It was just another manic Monday in the LA PD when Detective Aubrey Posen was walking back to the squad room, and Chief Abernathy stepped out of her office.
"Posen," the Chief called out. "Get Beale, Conrad, and Swanson, and report to the conference room immediately. We have a high profile case."
'Yes, ma'am," Aubrey said and hurried to grab her squad.
"Chloe," Aubrey said. "I need you, Stacie, and Jesse with me now."
The three detectives jumped up and followed Aubrey.
"What's going on?" Jesse asked as they made their way to the conference room.
"I don't know," Aubrey said. "The Chief just called for all of us and said we have a high profile case."
The four detectives get to the conference room. Aubrey gives three quick knocks on the door and opens it.
The detectives entered to find a man and a woman sitting at the conference table with their backs to them.
The two turned to look when the others entered. Chloe's eyes go wide. "Brey, that's Beca Mitchell," she whispered to Aubrey.
"I see," Aubrey whispered back. "Try and keep it in your pants, okay?"
It was well known that Chloe had a celebrity crush on Beca Mitchell. Chloe chuckled and whispered, "No promises."
Chief Abernathy directed the four newcomers to take the chairs on her right. They sat, and Chloe kept glancing at Beca. She blushed when she saw that Beca caught her looking at her.
"Miss Mitchell, these are my best detectives." the Chief said then pointed them out one by one. "Detectives Aubrey Posen, Chloe Beale, Stacie Conrad, and Jesse Swanson. I will be assigning these detectives to your case. They are very good at what they do and can be discreet."
"Detectives, my name is Theo Burnett. I am also a producer for DJ Khaled's label. She has been receiving threatening letters and also appears to have a stalker. We think, but cannot confirm, that it is all the work of one individual. DJ Khaled-"
"Theo." Beca rubbed a hand across her forehead.
"-wants to have the culprit-"
"Theo." Beca glares at him.
"-apprehended as soon as-"
"Theo!" Beca yelled to get his attention.
Theo stopped and looked at Beca.
"Yes, Beca," Theo said.
"Shut up," Beca said, and Theo was a bit taken aback. "I'll speak for myself."
Theo sat back and didn't say anything more. The four detectives looked down at their laps to hide their smiles.
Beca looked at Chief Abernathy. "I'm sorry for my outburst. I appreciate all this, but my life is out there for everyone to see. The world knows my circle of friends, my family, even the people I work with at the studio. No disrespect to your detectives, but how are they going to investigate without this stalker or whatever knowing it's happening?"
"We'll be undercover," Aubrey said quickly. "We can have, um, Jesse be a new love interest so we'll have someone close to you."
"Um, Brey, that won't work," Chloe said.
"Why not?"
"Because I'm gay," Beca cut in. "And everyone, well, almost everyone, knows it." Beca leaned forward and said, "The girlfriend angle would work though because I think this whole thing is because I'm gay and out. If this person sees me with a new girlfriend, it might bring them out in the open. "
Beca turned and asked Theo for the folder he had brought with him. He slid an accordion folder over to her and Beca opened it up.
"There are about twenty-five letters in here that I've received just in the past two weeks," Beca said pulling out a handful. "They all mention my sexuality. Sometimes they rant about it being a sin and in others, they talk about us being together."
"It sounds like we're dealing with two different individuals or groups," Aubrey said taking a few of the letters.
"We thought the same originally," Theo said. "But if you look closely, the handwriting looks similar. We're no experts, but we think it's just one person writing them."
"I see you have them each in an individual plastic holder," Chloe said. "Smart move. We can check them for fingerprints."
"May we keep some of these to have them analyzed?" Stacie asked. "Our techs can tell us if they are written by the same person."
"Keep whatever you need," Beca said.
"Who has physically touched these?" Jesse asked. "We will need to rule them out if we do find prints."
"They were all addressed to me as personal mail," Beca said. "So, the only ones to have actually held them would be my Assistant Dani and me. Dani started wearing gloves to open the mail after the third day. These," Beca said indicating the letters they were holding, "are the most recent and no one at the studio has touched them. At least that we know of."
"We'll need to take both your prints to compare," Jesse said.
"Whatever you need," Beca said.
"We need to get back to how you're going to protect Beca in the meantime," Theo said.
"I think Miss Mitchell is right and we should use the love interest angle," Choe said and looked at Beca. "I, um, I can play the part of your girlfriend, if that's okay with you?"
Beca looked at Jesse and said, "Sorry, detective, but it looks like we're over before we could even get started. She is more my type and my fans and family will find her more believable as a love interest."
"Story of my life," Jesse said with an exaggerated sigh and put his hand to his chest. "Always a bridesmaid, never a bride."
Beca chuckled and looked at Chloe. "So, how do we do this? I need to get back to the studio.
The detectives all looked to Chief Abernathy. "We will set it up so that you and Detective Beale meet in a public setting and hit it off. We'll give her a backstory and set her up in an apartment that we can monitor. Aubrey will be Chloe's best friend so she can become a part of your inner circle through Chloe. We'll figure out a role for Jesse and Stacie as well. I want Chloe and one of the others around you at all times."
"Thank you, Chief," Theo said as she stood and offered his hand. "I will keep DJ Khaled informed of what's going on."
"Let's keep this to the people in this room," Chief Abernathy said as she shook Theo's hand. "And, DJ Khaled of course.
Beca takes out a card and writes something on it. She handed the card to Chief Abernathy and said, "This is my personal cell number and my Assistant Dani's number. She knows about this and keeps my schedule. She knows where I am and what I am doing at all times. I trust her implicitly. When you come up with a plan, call her, and she'll get things on my calendar. You can share it with the others in case they need to reach me."
"We'll get back to you in a couple of hours," Chief Abernathy told Beca. "And, don't worry. These four are the best of the best. We'll have this stalker in custody in no time."
"Thank you," Beca said sincerely.
~~2019 BeChloe Valentines - Day Two~~
Chief Abernathy and the four detectives remained in the conference room after Beca and Theo left.
"Any ideas?" Chief Abernathy asked looking at the detectives.
"First, I think we need to set up the safe house," Chloe said. "I think I should be a teacher since I already have the credentials for it. I have a friend who teaches music at a private school who is pregnant, and we can have her leave a little early for her maternity leave, and I can go in as the substitute. She only works two days a week on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. That will be enough of a backstory to start with."
"That makes sense," Aubrey said. "We can put Stacie and Jesse in another apartment close by, and since we're neighbors, we would also be friends."
"Does that mean Jesse and I are a couple?" Stacie asked.
"It makes sense," Jesse said.
Stacie nodded and asked about how they get Beca and Chloe to meet.
"You and Jesse are celebrating your first anniversary," Chloe said. "Aubrey and I are out celebrating with you when we meet Beca. She's famous so it wouldn't be too far-fetched. Something clicks with us, and we all end up spending time with Beca. We'll make a big show of Beca asking for my number and then start dating."
"Put some thought into this already, have you?" Aubrey asked with a chuckle.
"Will you be able to keep your fangirling to a minimum?" the Chief asked with a grin.
"I'll be on duty and will act with the utmost professionalism," Chloe said with a huff.
"So, that would be a no," Stacie said, and the others laughed.
"Shut up," Chloe said as she laughed along with them.
"Okay," the Chief said after a moment. "I'll contact Miss Mitchell's Assistant and find out where Beca likes to go to unwind. We'll set up a day and time for you guys to meet. In the meantime, let's see if we can get anything from these letters."
Everyone knew what they had to to do and set off to get things started.
~~2019 BeChloe Valentines - Day Two~~
The four detectives moved into their new apartments within two were discussing the case over pizza and beers on Thursday night.
"So, how are you feeling about meeting your future wife tonight, Chloe?" Jesse asked with a grin.
"Shut up," Chloe said with a laugh. "I am going to be on duty, so it will be strictly professional."
"I got fifty bucks that says Chloe and Beca will be a real item by the time this is over," Stacie said holding up the money and waving it around.
"I know Chloe has a girl crush on Beca Mitchell," Aubrey said. "But, I also know that she is a really good detective."
"Thanks, Brey," Chloe said.
"I'll match your fifty and bet they're a couple before we solve the case," Aubrey finished with a laugh.
"Brey!" Chloe said and slapped her arm. "I can't believe you."
"I'll match both those bets," Jesse said. "But, I think we'll solve the case, and a few months down the road they'll realize they belong together and then they'll be a real couple."
"I hate you all," Chloe said causing the other detectives to laugh. "Shouldn't we be finalizing the plan for tomorrow?"
"It's all set," Aubrey said. "Now, we just have to wait."
~~2019 BeChloe Valentines - Day Two~~
"What about this outfit?" Chloe asked as she looked at herself in the full-length mirror.
"Chloe," Aubrey said. "Calm down. Everything you've tried on looks great. Just pick one."
"I have to look better than great," Chloe said. "I have to look like someone that Beca Mitchell would be attracted to. All the women she's ever been in a relationship with look and dress like supermodels."
"You're supposed to be a teacher," Aubrey said. "Most teachers can't afford some of these outfits you've tried on. Pick something classy but doesn't look like you spent an entire paycheck on."
Aubrey goes through the outfits Chloe has spread out in her room. She reaches for a simple Blue dress that hugs Chloe's curves.
"Wear this," Aubrey said holding the dress out to Chloe. "It makes your eyes pop and shows off your cleavage and curves. Beca Mitchell won't know what hit her."
Chloe smiled and put the dress on.
It was time to make their entrance into the club that Beca would be at with some of her colleagues. To say Chloe was nervous was an understatement. The four detectives got into character before they entered the club.
They managed to grab a table and a waitress came around and took their drink orders. Their drinks came, and Chloe was looking around as she sipped at hers. She noticed a few people who seemed to be staring up at the VIP Section. She followed their line of sight and noticed that Beca was sitting near the rail talking to some other people.
At the predetermined time, Beca and Chloe met, and Beca escorted her up to the VIP Lounge. After a little bit of time, the two went down to the other three detectives, and they were escorted to the VIP lounge.
The detectives played their parts and kept a vigilant eye out for anyone who was paying more than the usual fan attention to Beca. Beca was tired, and they decided to call it a night. They all walked out of the club and Chloe made a big show of saying goodbye to her friends before driving off with Beca.
The paparazzi had several photos of the "new" couple in the tabloids the next day. Beca and Chloe "dated" and made a big splash for the next two weeks.
~~2019 BeChloe Valentines - Day Two~~
Beca had received several more letters, each getting more and more threatening. Some even mentioned the "redheaded bitch" Beca had started seeing.
The detectives had a name from fingerprints they were able to lift from the letters. It was a woman, and her name was Ashley Martin. She was twenty-seven years old, had brown hair and brown eyes, was about five foot four with an athletic build. Every officer in the state had Ashley Martin's mugshot.
Not, they had a name and a description with a photo, but they had no idea where this woman was. All known addresses were fake or occupied by someone else. She was in the system for a short jail term she did two years prior for robbery. Other than that, they had nothing.
Beca had invited the detectives to her house to discuss what their next steps were.
"I think we need to up the game a bit," Aubrey told her colleagues. "Beca, you and Chloe have been doing a good job of making it look like your dating, hence the mention of Chloe in the letters."
"She called me the redheaded bitch," Chloe said. "Rude."
"So what do we do?" Beca asked with a light chuckle.
"Valentine's Day is coming up," Aubrey said. "We need you to be seen buying an expensive piece of jewelry without Chloe. Make it look like you're buying it for her. We'll be watching you the whole time, as will the paparazzi. If Ashley Martin doesn't come for you then, I believe she will do something on Valentine's Day."
"I agree," Stacie said. "You can have dinner at an upscale place. We'll put some of our guys in as waiters, maybe even diners."
"I know the owner of Sarducci's," Beca said. "I'll call and explain what's happening. He'll help."
"That sounds good," Jesse said. "We'll talk to the Chief and set up a meeting with Sarducci's owner."
~~2019 BeChloe Valentines - Day Two~~
The morning of Valentine's Day, Beca made a big show of going to a jewelry store and purchasing an item. The paparazzi followed her and took pictures of her going in and coming out of the jewelry store.
As she came out, questions were shouted out to her about what she bought. Was if for Chloe? What were their plans?
Beca answered without giving away any information and made her way to her car. The detectives kept their eyes on the crowd, but nothing happened.
Chloe was getting ready for her date when Aubrey knocked on her bedroom door.
"You almost ready?"
"I guess."
"What's wrong?"
Tears fell from Choe's eyes. Aubrey rushed over to hold her.
"Oh, Brey," Chloe cried into Aubrey's shirt. "What am I going to do? I've fallen for her. Hard. I don't know what I'm going to do when she's no longer in my life."
"Maybe you should tell her how you feel," Aubrey said. "I've seen the way she looks at you, and I think she might like you, too."
"I'm not that lucky," Chloe said.
"Come on," Aubrey said. "We still have a job to do, and Beca will be here any minute."
Chloe went to the bathroom to wash her face and freshen her makeup. Ten minutes later, Beca picked up Chloe that evening for their Valentine's date.
Chloe was anxious and afraid. She was afraid of what Beca would say if she told her that she had fallen for her beyond the fangirl crush. She was anxious because this could be their last night together.
"Hey," Beca said getting Chloe's attention. "Are you okay?'
"What? Oh, yeah," Chloe said with a small smile. "I'm good."
"Good evening, ladies," Jesse said. "My name is Jesse, and I will be your server tonight. May I start you off with some drinks?"
"Chloe? What would you like?" Beca asked.
"I'll just have red wine," Chloe said.
"Make that two," Beca said.
"Very good," Jesse said and left the table.
The rest of the dinner went well. Jesse had passed on a message that they had their eye on two possible suspects and for Beca and Chloe to keep doing what they were doing.
They were waiting for their dessert when Beca reached across the table to take Chloe's hand.
"You look really pretty tonight," Beca said with sincerity as she looked in Chloe's eyes.
Beca was a bit taken aback when she saw Chloe's eyes shimmering with what looked like unshed tears.
"Hey,” Beca whispered. "Are you okay?"
"I, um, I'm sorry," Chloe said and got up and ran toward the ladies room.
Aubrey saw this and rushed over to Beca's table. "Is everything alright here, Miss Mitchell?" She then lowered her voice. "Is she okay?"
"I don't know," Beca said. "It looked like she had tears in her eyes. Should I go after her?"
"No," Aubrey said understanding what was going one. "I think she just needs a minute."
"Okay," Beca said and looked toward where Chloe had run off.
~~2019 BeChloe Valentines - Day Two~~
Chloe rushed into the ladies room and went over to the sink. She grabbed a paper towel and dampened it and used it to wipe the tears from her face.
"Are you okay?" a voice asked from behind Chloe.
Chloe looked into the mirror and saw a young redhaired woman standing behind her. She looked familiar but couldn't place her.
"I'm fine," Chloe said. "Just a bit emotional is all."
"You're Beca Mitchell's girlfriend, right?" the woman asked. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be nosey, but I saw you sitting at a table together. And I've seen your pictures in the papers."
"Oh," Chloe said. "It's okay; I'm getting used to it."
"So, you are her girlfriend," the woman said.
"Um, yeah," Chloe said and turned and faced the woman. "If you want to ask her for an autograph, I don't mind. She enjoys interacting with her fans."
"Maybe later," the woman said.
"Okay," Chloe said and went to step around the woman.
The woman moved to block Chloe's path. "Excuse me," Chloe said and moved to the other side.
"No, I don't excuse you," the woman said and shoved Chloe back.
Chloe was taken by surprise and stumbled back hitting her head against the stall door. She caught herself to keep from falling, at the same time she realized she was facing Ashley Martin. An Ashley Martin who had died her hair red, just like hers.
Chloe shook her head to clear it and looked up to see Ashley coming at her with a knife. Chloe's training kicked in, and she grabbed and the woman's arm as she raised the knife over her head. Chloe used both hands to keep the knife from being plunged into her.
Ashley grabbed Chloe's shoulder and kneed her in the stomach. Chloe did not let go of the arm with the knife.
They fought for the knife and Ashley managed to elbow Chloe on the side of the head. Chloe staggered, and Ashley ran for the door, but Chloe was right on her heels.
Ashley got the door open just as Chloe grabbed a handful of hair. The fell into the door, and their momentum propelled them out into the hallway, both landing with a thud. Chloe was on the woman's back, and the woman was bucking and trying to get her off.
Two women turned the corner and screamed when they saw the fight; they turned and ran. Chloe was momentarily distracted and received another elbow, this time to her nose. She felt the blood start to flow. The blow dazed her slightly, and the woman managed to scramble up.
Chloe was still on the floor, and the woman kicked her in the side. She turned to run, and Chloe grabbed her by the ankle bringing her down again. The woman turned onto her back as Chloe struggled to get a hold of her.
Chloe was now straddling the woman's waist and blocking punches and trying to grab the woman's arms.
The woman saw the knife and managed to grab it. She brought her arm around to try and stab Chloe and Chloe punched the woman in the face, stunning her. The woman loosened her grip, and the knife fell next to her side. Chloe grabbed it and tossed it behind her.
Chloe turned the woman over and pulled her arms around behind her back. Suddenly, the hallway was filling with people who came running as soon as the two women explained what was going on.
Stacie grabbed her handcuffs and threw them to Chloe. She caught them and placed them around Ashley Martin's wrists.
"You're under arrest, bitch," Chloe said before standing. She wiped the blood from her nose and tried to catch her breath.
"Nice job, Chlo," Stacie said. Stacie reached down and got Ashley to her feet.
"Chloe! Chloe!" Beca's voice rang out as Chloe picked up the knife. "Let me go, dammit!"
Stacie led Ashley out of the hallway, followed closely by Chloe. Chloe turned the corner to be met with Aubrey holding back a struggling Beca.
"Chloe! Thank God," Beca said and seemed to relax. "Let me go, Posen."
Aubrey released Beca, and she ran over and grabbed Chloe in a hug. Aubrey took the knife from Chloe's hand, and Chloe wrapped her arms around Beca.
"Are you okay?" Beca asked with tears in her eyes. "I was so worried. I don't know what I would have done if you got hurt."
Chloe pulled back to look at Beca. "I'm okay, Becs."
Aubrey ushered everyone away from the two women and looked over her shoulder and smiled.
"I know this is a weird time to say this," Beca said as she held on to Chloe. "But, I, um, I don't want this to end."
"What?" Chloe was confused.
"I like you, Chloe," Beca said. "A lot. I was hoping we could talk and maybe continue dating. For real. If you want."
Chloe let out a small laugh and pulled Beca into a kiss. Beca was surprised but managed to recover quickly and kiss Chloe back.
The broke the kiss and leaned their foreheads against the other.
"I got upset earlier because all I could think of was that this was probably the last night I'd get to be your date," Chloe said. "I like you, too, Beca. It's more than just a fan crush."
"So, does all this mean we can keep dating?"
"Absolutely," Chloe said and pulled Beca into another kiss.
The kiss ended, and the two looked at each other and smiled. Chloe heard someone clear their throat and looked over to see Aubrey, Stacie, and Jesse standing there with smiles on their faces.
"You both owe me fifty bucks," Stacie said looking at Aubrey and Jesse.
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Senior Year Part 1
A/N: so this thing came from a blog I saw and then damn if these two couldn’t get out of my head. It is eventual Destiel but nothing too extra, I mean they’re 18 but still....no. No beta, I claim all mistakes!! Let me know if you want to be tagged! It is Dean’s POV. Please keep in mind I have never done an au or destiel. Hope you enjoy it!!
Warnings: Language, sassy Cas
Words:1815
Summary: Dean Winchester is a Senior on the top of his game. He is sure that nothing can screw up his plans for a perfect year. Then he meets the new kid.
September, the dreaded month of returning to this educational prison.
Throwing the car into park in one of the last available parking spots I glance over and see Sam wide eyed, his nerves showing throw like a neon sign. Digging in my pocket I hand him my last few crumpled dollars along with a playful punch. Turning to face me with wide eyes he takes the money, offering me a smile I’m sure he tried his best to muster.
“Come on Sammy, you can’t let ‘em see you sweat. You’re not gonna have me here next year and then it will be left to you to carry on the Winchester Legacy. Of course that legacy may transfer from football to chess club, but it’s still a legacy I guess.” shrugging my shoulders I see him smile for real this time, it growing slowly across his face.
“I’m not on the chess team, Dean.” he laughs when I quirk my eyebrow showing him I knew better.
“Fine. I was on there one semester because Jenna Klimer was on there and I thought she was hot. It was going great and I was about to make my move until you pulled that shit with her sisters.” Sam’s face was casting a look of judgement my way making me feel like a shitty brother all over again.
I threw my hands up in surrender as I offered my explanation for the hundredth time.
“Dude. I cannot be held responsible for the trickery of identical twins.I mean I was dating Stacie, thought I was kissing Stacie, thought I was with Stacie… I mean it’s not my fault Lacie was that pissed at her sister she’d pull that stunt. I mean I can’t believe I couldn’t tell, I just thought she’d been practicing.”
“Gross.” he scoffed as his expression of judgement deepened “They moved Dean. Like they sold their house and left. Lacie and Stacie weren’t even on speaking terms.”
“I can’t control my power over women.” I offered with a laugh. I only received a sigh from him and what sounded like “asshole” as he left the car with a slam of the door.
Hopping out I yelled over the roof “Glad to help with your nerves! Don’t forget to take the bus Sammy, I got practice after school!”
Without turning he flipped me off and made his way into the annex building where underclassmen had their classes.
Grabbing my bag I threw it over my shoulder and slammed the door making my way to the main building. Thanking any power listening for this being my last first day I laughed at the unfortunate people around me who still had years on their sentence. This was the year of Dean Winchester, Senior. I was coming off of being both Junior Prom King and Junior Homecoming King and moving up with my grade. I had earned Captain of the football team and the Captain of the cheerleaders, Mallory Kensington, too. There was nothing that could fuck up my year, I was sure of it.
Pulling my schedule out of my pocket I attempt to smooth out the crinkles enough to see where I’m headed. With a sigh I head to Earth and Space Science, hoping to beat the bell. As my feet cross the threshold the bell rings causing Mrs. Zelner to glance up from her desk with a sigh and shake of her head.
“Already at it I see Mr. Winchester. Take the seat in the back by the new student.”
I stop by Mallory on my way to the last available seat.
“Why didn’t you save me a seat, sweetheart?” I ask, hoping my annoyance was mostly hidden.
“You didn’t ask me too.” she shrugged turning back to her friend Kenna.
“I haven’t even seen you to…” I started before being cut off.
“Perhaps you’ll think about a more timely arrival in future endeavors, Mr. Winchester. Now take your seat, where you will remain for the year.”
Flopping into the free aisle seat I drop my bag on the floor and glance over at the guy beside me. He’s about my size, but I can’t get a good look at him as he’s hunched over a pad he’s drawing on, his black beanie pulled down over his face.
“Hey I’m Dean.” I offer, not interested in the least by what was being taught, disappointed we weren't using the first day for the syllabus and over pointless tasks.
“Castiel” he offered without changing his posture or showing interest in the conversation in the least.
“Your parents named you that?” kicking myself immediately at how rude my curiosity came out but he didn’t miss a beat.
“No, I legally changed it so teenage assholes would ask me questions I didn’t want to answer.”
“I didn’t me-”
“Can you stop talking? I 96% already dead inside and need the last four percent to escape this hell hole and not murder dumbasses. Plus I’m trying to learn.”
“You aren’t even listening” I scoffed, slightly offended at his rudeness “you’re just drawing.”
“These are notes you neanderthal. Just because you can’t focus on one thing doesn’t mean I am incapable of multitasking.”
“Fine smartass, what was the last thing she said?” I asked with what I was about to discover was unfounded smugness.
Without pause he answered “X- Class solar flares are the strongest category of solar flare and range from X1, the weakest all the way to X28, the strongest.”
I couldn’t see much of his face, but I could tell from the small part of his cheek showing that he was grinning.
This was going to be a long year.
The rest of the day went much more smoothly. Calculus, World History, Spanish, English, Weight Lifting, and last period was a breeze as I was lucky enough to be an office aide getting to mostly wander around and deliver teacher notes with my one true friend, Kenzie. She was one of a kind, take no shit, grounding me when my head got too big. It was a big job, but she excelled at it. She was the only one, besides Sammy, who was there for me without fail.
After saying goodbye to her I made my way to my locker. Busy cramming my books in I feel two soft hands come from behind and cover my eyes.
“Guess who?” Mallory giggles.
“Uh..Bonnie?”
She gasps and drops her hands as I turn around laughing at her pout. Grabbing her I give her a spin, pinning her against the locker with a smirk.
“Who do I have here, you’re much prettier than Bonnie.”
“Ugh. You’re an asshole Winchester.” she tries to pout but a tiny smile betrays her.
“So I’ve been told.” I shrug as I push her against the locker and kiss her like we aren’t in the middle of C hall begging for a teacher to bitch at us.
A couple of minutes later I feel a pair of eyes on me and knowing that I was late for practice didn’t bother up to look at my summoner.
“I know Westerman, I’m late. Go ahead, I’m coming.” I demand through broken kisses.
Why the hell wasn’t he moving?
“You gonna keep staring or you wanna kiss too?” I growled as I made a move to pull away before being pulled back in.
“I mean if you insist.” came an answer in a voice that definitely did not belong to Westerman. Looking up I realized it was the smartass from first period. He seemed like a different person somehow now that I got a good look at him. His arms crossed over his Community College Animal House style shirt he held a stance that showed he was both irritated yet amused. He had shed his beanie and his dark hair was disheveled like it hadn’t seen a brush in days. He wore a grin like he was insanely proud of himself. His eyes shined a color I couldn’t put a name to.
Wait-
How long had I been staring at him?
Shit
He let out a chuckle as if he could read my mind and for a minute I panicked, wondering if he could.
“You gonna keep staring or you wanna kiss too?” he echoed my words as he leaned against the locker, an air of indifference about him.
“What? No.” my words fumble.
Shit.
“What do you even want you creep?” Mallory sniffs, judging him like he was on trial.
“Don’t you worry your head, pretty girl. If I want something I just take it. By the way your lipstick is smeared.” he answered, speaking to her but looking at me.
Distracted by his critique of her appearance she turned to pull her purse and pulled out a mirror to confirm his claim.
“What do you want, Castiel?” I asked, rubbing my face.
“Cas.”
“What?”
“Cas, I go by Cas. I want to put my shit in my locker and go home. I think I picked the wrong fucking day to seize.”
“Well what’s stopping you then?” I ask, tired of the conversation.
“Unfortunately for me I wasn’t privy to the knowledge that Ken and Barbie were making a
Porno in front of my locker.” he snapped as his eyes bore into mine, a hard edge forming into a glare.
“That is so rude, and my lipstick wasn’t even smudged you lying asshole.” Mallory spoke up, reminding me she was still there.
Turning his glare to her his face took on a grin that dripped a courteous venom. “Honey, why don’t you take a hint from the g in lasagna?”
Perplexed she thought it over and I knew it was going to be bad before she even opened her mouth.
“There isn’t even a g in lasagna you idiot. Are you telling me not to exist?!” she screamed.
He doubled over laughing as she looked at me waiting for me to defend her.
“Sweetheart there is a g in lasagna, it’s silent.”
Letting out a shrill scream of frustration she stomped off.
Opening the locker next to mine he shoved his books in while I contemplated whether I should follow Mallory or not. I decided against it as I was already late to practice.
He turned as I did, looking me up and down as if deciding whether he should say outloud what he’s thinking.
“She’s got beauty and brains. You must be proud to claim that trophy.” he was laughing, but his eyes were judging me, making me feel just as dumb as Mallory.
Without another word he turned and walked off leaving me dumbfounded as to what just happened.
Why did it feel so bad to be judged by this asshole I barely knew? Why did I feel like I wanted to impress him. Why did I care?
Shit.
This was going to be a long year.
THANKS FOR READING!! IF YOU WANT IN ON THIS SARCASTIC SERIES LET ME KNOW! FEEDBACK IS MY LIFE SOURCE! PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT IT.
Because you are my wifeys lol: @dean-winchesters-bacon @bobasheebaby @whimsicalrobots @itsstillnotwhatyouthink YOU DON’T HAVE TO READ IT LOL
SISTER? @curly-haired-disaster
@waywardbaby
@ain-t-bovvered (I couldn’t tag some of your peeps who wanted in)
@elaspn @maimalfoi @castiel-saved-me-from-myself @dat-girl-callie @tv-saved-the-teenage-girl @ilovetvshowsblog @lovemesomecas94 @misccee @icysundown @missjenniferb @shipyoulikefedex @poukothenerd @blessing-of-venus @thatsmypie @ravenangel33 @the-salty-asian @luckytiger23 @and-we-are-all-dead
@cloverhighfive @waywardprincessn
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Can't You Hear the Wild Music? (3/7)
Summary: When the Great War sweeps away all of Canada’s able young men, Anne and Gilbert must endure leaving one another and gain the strength to fulfill their duties. A story told through narrative and letters.
Rated T • 1.4k words • Read the entire work on Ao3 • Start at Part 3
September 20th, 1914
Dearest Private Gilbert Blythe,
(Oh, I do hate writing that, Gil. Not the dearest part, of course. Such addresses I could write over and over until my fingers turned numb and my heart happy with contentment. To see your name beside titles I have held specially saved for the person to whom I’d give the second half of my heart...Well, it makes me vibrate with joy, but it also hurts a little more than you’re not here to listen to me speak them to you. My dearest Gilbert, beloved darling, prince of my heart, my lifemate.)
Just listen to me ramble over such romantic ideals. I suppose I should continue on with this correspondence the way a person should, acknowledging all the things you told me about in your letter and updating you about my own boring life here in Avonlea. Canada seems so much less exciting when I think about what you must be doing. But you’d prefer a boring life to one fighting a war, right Gilbert?
I was so pleased to hear you were doing as well as could be expected. You should hear the chaos of my thoughts in the silence of the day, when I’m left alone to ponder what has truly become of you in the time it takes for these letters to cross the sea. Then I pull out your letter from that safe spot under my bed and cry a few beautiful tears as I remember that you are indeed alive and well.
First and foremost, though, I must say that poetry suits you. It’s like a fine suit that you have tailored to every line and contour on your body - impeccably sewn, beautifully worn. Just like you’d leave me breathless donning such rich clothing, so too do you make my heart skip a beat by comparing me to a storm who only seeks to protect you. Truer words have never been spoken, Gilbert Blythe. I hope you know that. Poetry aside, if you decided to wear well tailored suits when you return home, I will not argue in the slightest.
Was that perfectly scandalous to write? Please don’t tell your fellow soldiers that your “redhead” was making shameless advances to you in her letters. It’s simply that I am enjoying being able to shower praises on you to my heart’s content. It helps me to miss you less.
But I do miss you. Oh, Gil, it’s been over a month and all I pray for is that this war will be over soon. It’s unbearable to read about it in the papers and hear about the boys who have already died. The lists of names of those late loved ones that will be buried on English soil away from their islands can bring a room to silence.
Enough of that!
Bash and Mary are doing splendidly. Bash has made a name for himself helping out at farms where mothers are having difficulties maintaining them because the fathers have gone overseas. One cannot raise children, feed a family, run a household, tirelessly miss their husband, and be expected to run an entire farm on their own. Mary helps out, as well! Most of the time she just visits with Marilla and I. The three of us held fort in the kitchen, sending meals to widows, sonless mothers, and brotherless sisters. Sometimes I think that we’d all go over and fight the war right alongside you, if it meant that we could stay by your sides. I know I would.
But Mary and I chat and distract each other from how much we miss you. She asks me about when I knew for sure that I was in love with you (I cannot pinpoint an exact time, the same way you cannot pin down a river. It has always been there. Strong and good.) I ask her about when she believes you fell in love with me ( “Right from the very moment he laid those pretty blue eyes on you, Miss Shirley. It don’t take a genius to see that.”) I ask her what she enjoys about being married (“I don’t mean to shock you, Anne, but intimacy - both emotional and physical- is bliss. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve experienced in my life, equal to raising my son. I wish one day you can have that for yourself, to feel that you are queen of his heart. Am I queen of your heart, Gil?”)
Mary asks me about what I’m most excited to do with my future, to which I responded in the usual answer of, “I’d like to become a teacher just like my beloved Miss Stacy,” but Mary was not fooled. I suppose the smile did not reach my eyes or my voice did not have its regular conviction, but she could tell right away there was something plaguing me.
That thing was this war, Gilbert. This godforsaken, dirty, no-good, horrible horrible war. I hate it. I haven’t truly hated anything in my life, but I mean it this time.
The truth is, as I spoke it to Mary that day in the sunny light of the Green Gables kitchen, is that I don’t want to go to college to be a teacher. I don’t want to leave my home in the midst of everyone else leaving. Having you gone made me realize I need to stay around those who love me if I’m to keep my sanity - and that’s with Marilla and Matthew and Bash and Mary. We’re family, all missing our family who is valiantly doing his duty in England. Besides, if the war continues after I return from college - gracious God forbid - I don’t want to see my own pupils don their own grey uniforms. It would kill me to see their names on the lists in the papers.
Besides, there is so much to see here in Avonlea with the war waging! It has always been true that Avonlea was run by the strong women that inhabited it. This is more true than ever. Women have filled the shops, the factories further inland, the trains, the farms, everywhere there used to be a man. Society cannot simply cease functioning with all our young men overseas, I suppose. It keeps the ache of missing our loved ones from consuming us.
It’s a near thing, Gilbert. Missing you nearly consumes me all the time. Oh, how I love you, Gilbert Blythe. Oh, how I love you.
So while my gallant young lad will be away healing those who have been injured and harmed and wronged and shot (Dr. Blythe is a title I forgot to add in the beginning of my letter. I’m so happy for you, Gil! You’re going to do so much good at the right hand of Dr. Simard.) I will be Avonlea’s newest newspaper columnist. I’ve spoken with Mr. Proctor yesterday - you remember, that old man who runs the paper? - and he’s agreed to giving me my own little space in the paper to talk about the trials and tribulations of the women during this period.
“Most of our readers are women now, I suppose,” he told me very bitterly. “I guess I haven’t any choice but to cater something to them.”
What an achievement! I haven’t decided what to name it. Do you have any suggestions? For once, I’m too excited to come up with a proper name. I’ll send you cutouts of the paper as soon as we begin printing them.
Oh, my own, I feel like I’m finally doing something more than just sitting around and waiting for the war to end.
I suppose if I do not end my letter now, I will continue to write until you appear in my doorway, arms open waiting to hold me. I’d write until I died, and my spirit had to keep writing after me. I’d write until I had exhausted all the paper in the entire world. I have so much I want to say to you - all things you already know, already have felt yourself.
So, I shall keep it simple.
You keep yourself safe, Gilbert Blythe, or I will never forgive you. Continue to craft your words, and sing your songs, and think of me when you feel lonely. Write me until your fingers are numb and your heart is soft. Remember the warmth of the hearth in your home and smiles of each person who has ever loved you, will love you, and loves you still. Walk proudly knowing your father walks beside, and your mother, and all the family before that. Walk gently knowing that I walk beside you, thinking of you always, protecting you always, loving you always.
Signed,
Your Anne-girl
#anne with an e#anne of green gables#shirbert#shirbert ff#shibert au#i love writing this fic because it's so bite size#even if war and history isn't super your thing#this fic is light on the history part and not too gruesome on the war part#just feely
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