#(( and now she squints at the calendar and wonders. oh right should she do something for spooky month.

[royalreef]

Oh right! It'll be October tomorrow, which is important to landfolk, and particularly important to her companions. Spirit of the season, and all that, and with a plenty of things for her to get dragged into in turn, not that she's complaining. Should she do something special for it? She's less certain there, especially with the timing of things... Surely beforehand there'll still be plenty to get into, as it always is.

[iwadori]

When they neglect you for another girl Part 4 (Sakusa)

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

Word Count: 2.6K

Genre: Angst to Fluff

masterlist

AN: YES I DID PUT MYSELF IN THIS STORY! SUE ME. This is basically inspired by a random conversation i had w the great @teesumu, so this is basically for you doll <3

Sakusa:

You and Sakusa have been together for a around 10 years and love eachother immensly.    

However recently Sakusa has been busy and you havent really had much time together lately as he claims been busy doing loads of visits with his new agent.

But of course, being the loving partner you are you wanted to revive the spark in your relationship.

You have been seeing a lot of people on social media posting their aesthetic ‘picnic dates,’ and you knew that this was something that appealed to you before it was ‘on trend.’ Kiyoomi immediately came to your mind once you had the idea of going on a date. You knew that you haven’t be around each other lately, as Kiyoomi always had either a ‘meeting’ or some sort of ‘interview’ that his new agent “Empress” has set up for him.

You didn’t really know Empress that well, just that she was ‘good at her job,’ a ‘hard and dilligent worker,’ and a ‘raging hottie’ with Atsumu’s opinion being the last one. You weren’t suspecting her to have any malicious intent towards you or Kiyoomi, since you knew that he had a great judge of character. But it was just odd, that every time Kiyoomi was running late or having ‘super-secret’ conversations on the phone it was always because ‘my agent set up this,’ ‘my agent set up that,’ and that’s what left you a bit wary.

As you were scrolling through your phone you see a calendar updating saying : Next Week‘ A DECADE AGO WE FELL IN LOVE.’  

10 years. How could you forget? You and Omi have literally been together for a decade. You think back to the decade of madness and love you’ve been through together, smiling fondly to yourself but then you think about where you are now... barely even talking to each other, only mainly seeing him when he comes home from work.

You need to fix this. Or at least make an attempt to get you and Kiyoomi talking again. So, the only thing you can do, is plan that picnic.

You spent the rest of the day planning your anniversary picnic. ’It’s going to be great,’ you think to yourself, you have a list of all Omi’s favorite foods you're going to make him and bring and you are probably going to pick up a few board games and maybe even get some paint supplies. You and Kiyoomi used to paint a lot together, with the two of you not being the best of painters, but you enjoyed eachothers company non the less.  

Everything was sorted...for the most part. All you needed to do was get Omi there, and it’ll all be okay. Right? As you were bubbling and looking for more picnic inspo, you hear your front door open which made you even more excited to tell your boyfriend your plans.  

As you rush to go greet him, you see he’s on the phone making you roll your eyes. “No Empress it won’t work, we need this sorted by next week. Okay? Next week.” he says in an agitated way. He hangs up the phone and sighs, shoving off his duffel bag.

“Hey Omi, how was your day?” you say a bit hesitant, noticing his annoyed mood.  

“Fine” He said dismissively, aiming to walk past you aiming for your bedroom.

“Oh well I have something amazing planned for ne-” you try to say following after him.

“Can we not do this right now Y/N,” he says again turning too look at you making you frown a bit, all you wanted to do is surprise him with your plans and have a day out with him. After noticing your sad look he finishes with “it’s just that Empress she’s bee-”

“I don’t want to hear about her.” you say bitterly folding your arms, Empress is the last person you want to hear about right now “God Omi can’t you just care about me? For once.”

“I do I-”

“You don’t anymore,” you say, with all the emotions and feelings you’ve been just supressing from a while coming up. You don’t even know how you got from point A to B with this conversation, but there's no stopping now. “I feel that, for a while now we haven’t been how we were before when we were just Y/N and Kiyoomi. Instead of how we are now. Just Y/N. Then Kiyoomi and Empress.”

After hearing his agents name, Kiyoomi’s name contorts to confusion “Empress? What does she have to do with anything?”

“How can you not see? For the past month all it’s been is ‘Empress this’ ‘Empress that,’” you complain “Having your super secret conversations with her, like god Kiyoomi can’t you see a problem with this?”  

“It’s not like that Y/N, we’re just work partners” he says looking a bit annoyed “Just business.”

 “Just business? So Kiyoomi, what were you talking about on the phone earlier” you say with your voice slight accusingly.

“Umm I, I can’t really say?” he says more of a question then a fully assured statement. You squint your eyes at him and scoff.

“What is going on with you Omi?” you say “are you cheating on me with her is that it?”

“No, no of course not Y/N! How could you even ask that?” he frowned at your question making your chest hurt, since deep down you knew he could never do that to you. Could he?

“Well tell me then, what were you talking about?” you ask again.

“I can’t say..” he finishes  

“Well I can’t stay.” you say and his face goes back to confusion “Here. With you.”

“What do you mean Y/-”

“I need a break or something. I just can’t be here right now.” You start to rush and pack a big of things whilst Kiyoomi just stands there.

After you pack up your stuff, you look back and see Kiyoomi just there. Standing. You were upset, you kind of wanted him to rush after you and beg you not to leave, but he was just there. Standing. So you put the hand on the door and just before you leave you turn back and say “bye Sakusa, see you later?” to which you see him slightly nod at.

When the door shut, Kiyoomi starts to cry. After hearing you call him by his last name really twisted the knife that was already in his heart. You haven’t called him that since you were like 15. He knew what you wanted; he knew you wanted him to rush towards you and beg you not to leave, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. But what he could do is call the one person he only could call.

After a few rings, he hears “What do you need Saku?”  

“She’s gone, she left.”

“What do you mean she’s gone, did you tell her?”  

“No I didn’t tell her. And that’s the problem, Empress she think-”

“Saku, don’t worry about it. I’ll handle it.”

“You’ll handle it?”

“Don’t I always?”

He couldn’t argue with that, he just had to trust that Empress could sort it. “And also, don’t spend the week with your head up your ass crying, you’ve got a lot of grovelling to do kiddo.”

He nodded even though she couldn’t see him, as he knew that what just went down needed to be resolved, fast.

Meanwhile, on your end. You’re a mess. Sobbing all the time, tissues are your best friend, you’ve been waiting just waiting for a message or a call, or some form of communication. You just wanted to feel wanted by your boyfriend (can you even call him that now.)  

You spent the rest of the week at your parents, immersing yourself in your work and doing ‘self care’ things, trying to forget all about the argument you and Kiyoomi had.  

One day, you receive a letter, it wasn’t delivered by a mail man though. It was slid under your door, in a golden envelope sealed with a red hot wax seal. It read:

‘Dear Y/N,

My sweetheart, im sorry for how the week has been and I know a letter with only a fraction of how I feel won’t make up for how I acted that day. But im inviting you to join me at the Gardenia Botanical Gardens at 2 pm tommorow, to celebrate our 10 year anniversary.  

I know there is a big chance, you may not want to see me and I understand but please. I love you, so so much, that words can’t even describe. But I need you to see me apologise and I need to make it up to you.  

I hope to see you there, I’d wait the whole day for you. If you don’t show, I understand.

Sincerely, Sakusa Kiyoomi

P.S The theme is ‘summer hot day, tea with the queen’ - Atsumu’

You smile at the letter, but wonder if you should actually go or not. You did want to see him of course and get this all resolved, but you had your own plans for your anniversary which wouldn’t of been spoiled if he didn’t withhold his super-secret phone calls.

It took you hours to contemplate on what to do, but you decided to just sleep on it and see how you feel tomorrow. In the morning, you knew what you wanted to do. Of course, you had to go, at least to hear him out and see if he really did cheat on you or not. For all you know he’s inviting you to tell you that he’s going to run away with his agent and his secret kids they had together. You shook the negative thoughts from your head and just repeated your mantra ‘hope for the best and prepare for the worst.’

When you got there, you didn’t exactly know where he would be but he said ‘botanical gardens’ so of course you decided to just wander around there. It was nice walking around and just smelling the roses, and seeing the pretty scenery.  

“Excuse me ma’am,” you hear someone say tugging on your leg “um that mister over there told me to give you these.” Looking down, you see a small boy who looked about the age of four with a crumpled up bunch of roses handing them to you.

“Oh thank you,” you say giving the kid a head pat “where is this ‘mister’ might I ask?”

“He’s over there!��� The kid pointed behind him and you look to see Kiyoomi sitting under a white gazebo which is surrounded in your favorite flowers and the table is filled with food.

You walk over to your ‘boyfriend,’ with him not noticing your present yet. When you reach him you say “I think she stood you up buddy,” you joke making him jump abit startled.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, instantly beaming “You came you made it!” he stood up and pulled you into a hug, which you return before you remember why you came here in the first place.

“Oh I-” he says awkwardly

You decide to sit down pulling him down with you. You kind of sit there in uncomfortable silence, for a while until you both say.

“So I-”

“What are yo-”

You both laughed at your simultaneous comments, before Kiyoomi looks at you letting you speak. “What did you want to bring me here for?”

“I didn’t want, what happened last week to happen Y/N I-” he says looking a bit panicked “It wasn’t supposed to go this way.”

“Then how was it meant to go Sakusa.”

“Y/N, please don’t call me that, I know I made you upset but pleas-” he starts before getting distracted again “Y/N, I called you here to say a few things..”

“Them being.?” you ask a bit impatiently.

“I love you. I love you so much, you don’t even understand. Ever since I saw you at my volleyball game in our first year, in the stands just cheering us on. I knew that from that day, after I scored the winning point and our eyes met, that we were destined to be together. I just love you so much Y/N”

“Omi I don’t understand I-”

“Just let me finish please, It’s taken a while for me to say this. And trust me, there’s been so many times when I wanted to just say ‘hey Y/N let’s get married,’ but I couldn’t I was scared, and I wanted it to be perfect, so perfect. Because you deserve the world Y/N. That’s why I got Empress to help, I know that our conversations may seem odd, but I love you and she knows that she just wanted to help trust me. And she did, all this wouldn’t of been done if it wasn’t for her. But anyways Y/N what I waned to say was I love you and I love you and I-” he rambles on loosing track of his words.  

But in the midst of his speech, you hear all that you needed and responded with the only way you can.

“Yes.” you say simply, with a growing smile on your face.

“Yes?” he repeats confused “What do you meann ye- ohhh" Kiyoomi blushes embarrased that after all that he ended up ruining the thought out proposal he wanted to give you with his ramble.

“Im sorry Y/N, I didn’t mean to say it like that I wanted it to be perfect and I-”

You shut him up with a kiss making his eyes widen as he reciprocates it anyways.  

“What did she say?” you hear someone shout from a far, and you look over to see the MSBY Jackals all standing there with shit eating grins on their faces.

“I said yes!” you yell back, to which they all cheer and rush towards you guys giving you both hugs and slapping Kiyoomi on the back.  

As the boys celebrate Omi finnally do what he’s been planning for ages, you get approached by Empress who awkwardly walks up to you. “ I didn’t want to leave the impression that me and Saku were any sort of thing?” she says

“Yeah I think it was definitely a big misunderstanding, it’s just that Omi was never around and whenever he was he was just talking to you and you know how it is.”

“I definitely know, I’d feel the same way if my boyfriend did that to me.”

“Oooh boyfriend?” you ask her feeling nosey on her romantic life.  

“Yeah boyfriend. You know iwaizumi hajime... the trainer?” she says smiling a bit when she said his name.

“The trainer! Nice.”

The rest of the night was fun and was basically an engagement party for you and Omi all you and friends just partying and celebrating yours and Omi’s love for each other. “Omi” you say getting his attention “Happy ten year anniversary babe”

“Happy anniversary, I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

After the party you spend your months now planning for a big fat wedding, with the help of your new found bestie, Empress (who you obviously misjudged from the start.) You and Omi could never be happier, every thing was back to how it was before, maybe even better. And you definitely spent at least two Saturdays a month going out for picnics and it was now a tradition in your relationship, so in the end you did get your ‘aesthetic picnic date.’

AN: WHAT DID U GUYS THINK??

[fuckthisshitimin]

Advent Calendar, Day 8: 11AM (You won’t regret it)

read on ao3

She knows they come here often. She also knows, they’re not coming today. Luz’s girlfriend is around the corner, and Eda gestures towards her. Amity’s expression shifts when she notices her, and Eda can’t say if she is pleased or annoyed. Anyway she nods to her before going back to her conversation with another customer. She puts another book on the pile the customer is already holding, and when they laugh, gesturing towards a corner with a chair, she lets them go, and walks to Eda.

“It is rare to see you here, Ms. Clawthorne.”

“Told you to call me Eda. Ms. Clawthorne, that’s my sister.”

Amity nods ceremoniously, and Eda knows it will take her time, to change this habit. She clears her throat, holding on to the piece of paper she brought with her. “Um, actually, I’m looking for something for Raine? I’ve got a list of what they read, and thought, since they come here often, maybe you could help.”

She grits her teeth. Remembers Luz’s words of encouragement. Her advice. It was unasked for, but oh, so welcome. You need to learn how to ask for help. You won’t regret it. I promise. So Eda braces herself. She shows the list to Amity, and the bookseller nods. “Well, those are mostly thrillers, it’s not my department. You should ask Noah over there, he’s in charge of mysteries and thrillers.”

She frowns. She thinks Luz was wrong. She’s already regretting this. Asking Amity for help was hard enough, and now she has to ask a stranger for help? She lets out a reluctant thank you, taking back her piece of paper and heading towards the black and yellow shelves. Names she’s crossed on Raine’s readings covers, collection she recognizes. She did read a few of their book, to have a clearer idea of what she’s looking for. Oh, she hates polars. Cops doing their job is too much fiction for her.

“Can I help you with something?”

She just stared at him. It’s somehow easier, if he’s the one offering. He looks young. Maybe a bit older than Amity and Luz, but still young. She wonders how much he’s read from the shelves in front of them. “Yeah. Uh, I need a book.” She feels stupid. Yes, she’s in a bookstore. It’s kind of obvious. But the man in front of her doesn’t laugh, he just nods.

“Are you looking for a specific title or do you want to discover what we have?”

“Discover, I guess? It’s not for me.” She doesn’t read. Not so much. Very little fiction in general. But if she says it out loud, she’ll sound like the uncultured bitch she is. She doesn’t like bookstores. “It’s for Raine Whispers. They come here often.”

“Raine Whispers… Oh, yes, I remember them. You came to the right place.”

She hands him the list, pointing out the novels she remembers Raine liked best, and soon a selection is made together with the professional. She looks at it. Yes, those look like books Raine would read. Somehow it still feels a bit… Unpersonal. She sighs, and the bookseller laughs, this time. She turns to him with a glare, and he holds his hands up. “I am not making fun of you, sorry.”

“Right.” She looks at the summaries again. Raine would probably enjoy them, but she’s a bad judge. They all look so boring to her. “Fucking books.”

“You are not a huge reader, are you?”

She squints at him. “So what? I can still chose a dang present.”

“Can I offer more personal advice?”

She rolls her eyes. But if someone knows Raine’s taste, it is probably going to be him, so she nods.

“Most people who come here to find presents usually go with suggestions made to them, if they don’t share the giftee’s taste. In my experience, at least. But since you don’t seem content with this maybe you can tr to find something more you?”

“I’m not gonna read it.”

“Sure. But these novels, I would have suggested them to Mx. Whispers the same way I suggested them to you. Maybe we can find something that they would like that would also have a little you touch?”

She frowns. He goes on. “For example, what do you like to read? Or watch?”

“Well, not stuff with cops, so we’re kinda screwed here.”

She sees the bookseller’s eyes light up as he looks at the shelves. “Well, we do have some thrillers without police involved. Most of them feature PI or other legal agents, but we can find something without them too. Agatha Christie’s novels often have a thriller reader as a protagonist, for example.”

“Yeah well Agatha Chirstie’s a racist and a classist so, no.”

He nods again. Takes a novel out of the shelf. “This one is actually a personal favorite. The main protagonists are two sisters.”

She takes the book, looking at its cover. So far, it looks like any other novel she looked at. The title reads Blow The Man Down.

“There are two police officers, but they are mostly useless.” A spark of interest shines in her eyes, as she reads the summary.

Mary Beth and Priscilla Conolly attempt to cover a gruesome run-in with a dangerous man. To conceal their crime, the sisters must go deep into the criminal underbelly of…

She wouldn’t read that. But she wouldn’t, exactly, not read that.

“Most characters are women, and nuanced. This happens just after their mother’s death, and they will learn a lot about her, too.” She nods, and he takes out another book. “This one is a New York Times bestseller, and the protagonist, leading the investigation, is a teenager. It also has a persistent sense of closed community.”

Eda takes it. Special Topics in Calamity Physics. She likes the title. Another book in her hands. You Should Have Known.

“This one is pretty popular, too, and has been even more so since it has been adapted for television. The storytelling is enthralling, but I do have to point out that the ending is ableist and stigmatizes a mental illness. It is a shame since what leads to it is subtle and clever.”

She looks at the cover for just a second. “Yeah, no.” He nods as she refuses it, and he almost looks happy.

Soon he has to help another customer and she’s left with five novels to chose from. She reads the first few pages, fighting the urge to take a nap whenever she does so. She pushes They Never Learn down. Even if the story is compelling she finds it risky. No telling what the author has done with the plot, and of course she can’t find relevant spoilers online. You have to read to find out blabla.

“Edalyn. In a bookshop.”

The voice sends shivers down her spine. She groans, taking the four novels under her arm. She’ll buy them all, if it saves her from this conversation. And then she remembers.

Long, boring conversations she never listened to. But she stayed in the room because Raine’s voice was so cheerful when they talked about books and they apparently found a great conversationist in her sister. She squints. Takes a step towards the cashier. And puts the four books down on one of the tables. A hand on her hip, she steadies her voice.

“What do you think?”

She hates the brightness in Lilith’s eyes. She hates it’s a hope she won’t stomp on this time. “Oh Edalyn! I’ve been waiting for this day for so long!”

“Don’t get overexcited. It’s for Raine, you know their taste.” Better than I do, she doesn’t say. Lilith’s eyes are positively gleaming. She’s smiling so hard. What did Eda get herself into, now?

You won’t regret it, Luz said? Eda’s tired. And Lilith’s voice is annoying. And when she thinks about Raine liking her present, when she pictures them opening it… ugh. She hates to say it but Amity was right. Noah was right. Lilith is right, and Luz is right. Everyone in the world is right except her, and she hates it, and if Raine smiles, she won’t regret it one bit.

[host-club-hq]

Call of the Scar pt. 1

➼ pairing: harry potter x reader

➼ genre: sfw, fluffy, fantasy

➼ word-count: 3.4k

➼ summary: Harry Potter and Y/N Weasley embark on their great journey together in their fourth year at Hogwarts. What does this unsuspecting year hold for them this time?

➼ part 1 of many :)

➼ want to request? do it here. let me know what i can write for you :)

➼ talk to the characters!

Frank Bryce sets a kettle on the stove and- with a shaky hand- adjusts the flame. He leans forward, squinting to get the fire right, and the window beyond his is revealed. Something flickers. Softly. Then again. Frank turns. 

Atop the hill, light dances in one of the windows of the manor. 

CLANG!

Frank emerges from the cottage, walking stick in hand. He limps into the yard and approaches a door almost completely covered in ivy. He fits a rusty key into the lock

The knob squeals dryly. The walking stick pierces the shadows, then Frank himself enters. His nostrils flare against the sour air. He cocks an ear. Frank's shadow spreads darkly on the landing. Above a small table is an old calendar, freckled with Mildew. August 1943

Frank reaches the top and stops. His breath drifts like smoke. 

At the end of the hallway, a door stands ajar, casting sliver of light across the dusty floor. Frank edges closer and sees a narrow slice of the room beyond. A feeble fire flickers in the grate. From within: voice.

"But where here, my Lord? It seems so... inhospitable.

"How fastidious you've become, Wormtail. As I recall, only recently you called the nearest gutterpipe home. Could it be that the task of nursing me has become wearisome for you?"

"No, my Lord! I only meant-"

"I have my reasons for coming here. Thirteen years of reasons."

"Perhaps if we ere to do it without the boy..."

"No! The boy is everything!"

Just then, the tip of Frank's walking stick vibrates against the floorboard. He eyes it curiously, then- in mute horror- watches a giant snake emerge from the shadows behind him. As it skims past his shoes and into the room, an eerie hiss greets its arrival.

"Nagini has interesting news, Wormtail. According to her, there is an old Muggle standing just outside this room."

The door flings wide, revealing a short balding man- Wormtail.

"Where are your manners, Wormtail? Step aside so I can give our guest a proper greeting..."

Slowly, Wormtail withdraws. Frank's eyes dilate. A flash of green light sears the walls. The walking stick clatters to the floor, handle charred black, weeping smoke. A brittle whistling rises from the shadows of the empty Gardener's Cottage, a tea kettle squealing madly, rising like a scream on the night sky. 

Harry Potter sits bolt upright, a gasp in his throat. He winces and presses his palm to the scar on his forehead. Across the room, Ron lies sleeping. 

"Having a bit of a lie-in, are we?" A smug voice comes.

Harry spins, seeing you, his closest girl friend, grinning from beside his bed. 

"Y/N. When'd you get back?" Harry breathes heavily. You had gone for a morning walk- as you usually do when sleep eludes you.

"Just now. You?" you’re referring as to when he arrived at your family’s burrow.

"Last night." Harry begins to sit up.

"Must have missed you. Though, how could I? With your clumsy arse." you ruffle his hair and Harry groans. 

"Says you." Harry bites back playfully. You grin. 

Hermione comes stalking in loudly and Ron wakes. "Bloody hell!" Ron bolts up and tugs the blanket over his chest.

"Oh, honestly. Come on. Get yourself dressed or we'll miss the whole thing." Hermione claps at Ron. 

You watch as she leaves, then look at Harry. The two of you stare at each other before you whack him upside the head. 

"Blimey, Y/N! What was that for?"

"I dunno, maybe I just wanted to hit your dumb ass." you walk out.

Harry rubs the back of his scalp before turning to Ron, who was still on the verge of sleep. 

"What are you looking at me for?" Ron grumbles. 

"She's your sister. I wonder where she gets it from." Harry throws his feet over the bed. 

"Not bloody likely... more like all that time she spends with Hermione. God awful, the pair of them."

"Don't be dramatic, Ron." Harry shoves him slightly as he gets dressed. 

A string of sleepy silhouettes- Fred, George, Harry, Ron, you, and Hermione- trail a huffing Arthur Weasley. Fred has a battered pair of omnioculars slung over his neck.

"Where is it exactly, where we're going?" Harry turns to you. 

"Dunno. Say, Dad. Where're we going?" you holler forward. 

"Haven't the foggiest. Keep up!" Arthur replies. Harry looks at you expectantly. 

"Why are you looking at me like I know where we're going?" you raise an eyebrow. 

"Why don't you know where we're going?" Harry teases back. 

"Because I've never been to the bloody thing. Merlin, Harry, sometimes you're so daft." you sigh, teasingly, again. Harry eyes her curiously. Daft? Yeah, right. 

A ruddy faced wizard appears atop the crest ahead. 

"Arthur! It's about time, son!" The man shouts in greeting. 

"Sorry, Amos. 'Fraid we got a bit of a sleepy start. This is Amos Diggory, everyone. Works with me at the ministry. And this strapping young lad must be Cedric, am I right?" Arthur guesses. 

An extremely handsome 17-year old boy shakes hands with Mr. Weasley, whom he towers over. 

"Sir." Cedric confirms. 

"Bloody hell." you sigh. Harry looks to you.

"What? You think he's attractive?" Harry raises an eyebrow.

"How could I not? Look at him." you grin widely. Harry pouts.

"Don't be a baby, you're still adorable." you pinch his cheek and he yelps.

"Bugger off." He swats your hand away.

"Merlin's beard! You're Harry Potter, aren't you? Ced's talked about you, of course. About playing Quidditch against you last year. I told him- Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will: You beat Harry Potter!" Amos grins. Lorelei frowns and steps beside Harry.

"Harry fell of his broom, Dad. I told you, it was an accident-"

"Yes, but you didn't fall off, did you? Best man won. I'm sure Harry'd say the same." Amos grins. Harry frowns and you take his hand in yours. As much as you tease each other, you both know how much you care for each other. 

"We'll see about that this year, won't we?" you challenge with a subtle smirk. Amos's eyebrows furrow before Arthur interjects before his daughter escalates.

"Well, shall we? We don't want to be late." Arthur clears his throat, as he should. 

"Hm? Oh, right. It's over there." Amos points. 

Harry cranes his neck. Lying in the short grass is an old boot. Each person places a finger to the book, arms extended like spokes to a wheel. Harry leans to you and whispers. 

"Can you tell me why we're all standing here pressing our fingers to this manky old boot?" Harry grimaces.

"It isn't just any manky old boot, mate." Fred interjects. 

"It's a Portkey." you finish. 

"A Portkey? What's a-"

SWOOSH! The hill lurches then tilts. The sky begins to spin. A howling wind rises and the sky spins faster and faster and faster still... and becoming a blur... until...

... Harry slams hard onto his feet and- like the others beside him- topples onto his back. Above him, the sky reels dizzily, like a carousel, spinning slowly to a halt as Arthur, Amos, and Cedric cycle into view, windswept but upright. 

"That'll clear your sinuses, eh!" Arthur exclaims. 

"And I thought I hated Floo Powder." Harry groans. A hand comes into his view and he trails his eyes up the arm that connects to you. 

"Come on, then. Up you go." He takes your hand and helps himself to his feet.

"Floo Powder is still my least favorite. Getting covered in soot just to land in a ruddy fireplace." you grimace as you recall your first Floo Powder experience. 

Harry looks past you to the field beyond. Thousands of tents stretch to the edge of a steep cliff, to the deep bowl of a stadium.

"This reminds me of just how many witches and wizards there are sometimes." you appear next to Harry, your knuckles tightening around the straps of your backpack as if you were anxious. Or, you could be excited- Harry can't tell. 

"That's an interesting way to look at it." Harry acknowledges you with the tilt of his head, nudging you. 

"Keep up, we don't want to be left behind." He starts off first, trusting you’ll follow. And you do. 

Harry glances about in fascination as he and the others trudge through the sea of tents. Exotic accents dance upon the air, every nationality in evidence. 

"Well, here we are!" Arthur pulls aside the flap of a small tent. A very small tent. Harry watches curiously as the others pass through. 

"How in Merlin's name are we all meant to fit in that?" Harry gestures lazily to the tent in disappointment. You peer in from his point of view and shrug. 

"Dad's got all sorts of tricks up his sleeve- just you watch." you inhale deeply and disappear inside the tent. Harry draws in the same sort of breath and ducks inside himself. 

Harry looks around and smiles- he's standing in what's equivalent to a 3-bedroom flat. "I love magic." He grins as she sloppily drops his bag on the floor. 

"I'll take that. You're welcome." you sling Harry's and your bag own over your shoulders. Harry rolls his eyes and follows you at your heal. 

"I could've done that myself." Harry says matter-of-factly.

"You wouldn't owe me that way, would you?" you raise an eyebrow at Harry. You know Harry can't raise a single eyebrow and you take every chance that you can get to tease him with your ability. 

"Ah, I knew there was a catch." Harry grins goofily as you place his rucksack on one of the beds on the boys' side of the tent. You turn on your heal to place your own where you and Hermione will be sleeping. 

"We're separated?" Harry blurts unknowingly. The color red creeps onto the apples of his cheeks as you turn at his query. 

"Yes... why do you ask?" you tilt your head as you turn your body to face him. Harry shrugs nonchalantly. 

"Harry..." you gently takes his hand in yours, causing Harry to look down at you with sparkling eyes. 

"I'm sure you'll be alright for a night or two. What do you do at home when I'm not there, hm?" your thumbs stroke the back of his hand as you look up to meet his eyes. 

Harry learned that you were quite skilled at helping him through his nightmares and you were more than happy to lend your skill. Often when you were younger, you helped Ron through rough nights of nightmares after he'd eaten too much for dinner, or too much for dessert. You quickly learned that it was best to not wake him, for he could reel all too quickly back into reality and startle himself. You would bring the blankets back up over his chest to restrain the thrashing, stroke his cheek to maintain the mumbling, and whisper positive affirmations into his ear to send the nightmares into the abyss- replacing it with a nice, pleasant dream. As soon as you saw the smile on Ron's face, you’d known you’d done your job, and would quietly slip out of the room back to the welcoming warmth of your own bed. The nightmares often only came once a night. You wouldn't have to go back after that. 

All of the same techniques seem to work in calming Harry from his own nightmares. Although, you find it best to embrace him in his sleep to restrain thrashing, as the blankets can do next to nothing to restrain him. 

"Dunno." Harry bites the inside of his cheek and breaks eye contact. Your hand moves from his hand to his shoulder and you smile brightly. 

"If you really do need me, come and get me, yeah?" you pat his shoulder thrice and turn on your heal to the girls' side of the tent. Harry's eyes follow you warily as you walk and he sighs shortly. 

Ron claps Harry on his back, startling him as he spins around. 

"Don't worry too much, mate. She's a light sleeper. If she hears you, she'll wake and be at your side before you know it." Ron starts to unpack his rucksack and Harry nods. 

"Yeah... yeah, no, I'll be fine." Harry forces a smile, which Ron returns. 

Harry and the others climb to their seats. Flags of all nations ring the stadium and vendors apparate here and there among the crowd, selling their wares. 

"Get your Quidditch World Cup programs! Only five Sickles!"

Fancy gold handwriting races repeatedly across a giant blackboard: Gladrags Wizardwear- London, Paris, Hogsmead...

"There's the Peruvian Minister for Tourism. And that man there's the African Head of Magical Games and Sports. And- oh lord- there's Ali Bashir. He's been truing to import flying carpets for years. I keep telling him they'll never replace brooms, but he sees a niche market for a family vehicle..."

"Blimey, Dad. How far up are we?" Ron marvels, ignoring his father's rambling about their surroundings. 

"Well, if it rains, you'll be the first to know."

The voice is Lucius Malfoy descending the stairs with Draco. Arthur, tight as a drum, only glares.

"Father and I are in the Minister's box, by personal invitation of Cornelius Fudge himself." Draco boasts with a smug smirk. 

"Oh, bugger off-" you begin.

"Don't boast, Draco." Lucius jabs his walking cane into Draco's chest. Draco grunts and places his hand over where he was jabbed, looking at his father incredulously. 

You look to Harry with disbelief. 

"Well, that's a first-"

"There's no need with these people." Lucius finishes. 

"Ah." you cut yourself off with a disappointed sigh. Harry chuckles and nudges you. You smile. 

Malfoy's eyes trail nastily over you and Hermione, landing on Harry. 

"Mr. Potter."

As he passes, Harry eyes the walking stick in Lucius Malfoy's grip. A silver serpent encircles his ring finger, inlaid with emerald chips for eyes. 

Harry and the others have settled into the upmost row, where the wind whips coldly. As a fleet of broomsticks jet into view, a roar rises in the crowd. 

"It's the Irish! There's Troy!" Fred exclaims excitedly. 

"And Mullet!"

"And here comes Moran!"

Before Fred can finish, a fleet of dark-clad riders soar over the opposite rim of the stadium. The crowd roars again. 

"I don't see what all the fuss is about." Although your cheeks are smeared in green, (curtesy of your older brothers and Ron) your interest in professional Quidditch have never exceeded your brothers' of course. You do find a small interest in the magic of brooms, but the sport itself has never perked your interest. 

"Here come the Bulgarians!" George points as he leans over the railing. 

"Hm. Who's that?" you squint your eyes at one particularly young player. 

"That, sis, is the best Seeker in the world." George smirks with a smug nudge to your side. You swat him. 

"He flies rather well, doesn't he?" Hermione acknowledges. The boys exchange amused glances. 

"You could say that." Fred stifles his laughter as George nudges him. 

Fred lifts his Omnioculars to his eyes and spins a dial. He dials Krum in closer, then runs the image forwards and backwards.

"What's his name?" you ask as you place your hands on the railing. 

On cue, thousands of fans on the opposite side of the stadium flip large cards bearing the face of the surly looking boy with thick eyebrows. Each one is emblazoned with his name: KRUM.

"Krum?" Hermione guesses.

"Krum." Harry, Ron, Fred, and George assure in unison. 

As the boys look up in admiration, Krum gets past the vast mosaic of his likeness with a nary glance, flying with such breathtaking skill that Harry's jaw fairly falls open. You lean over and press your index finger to his chin, effectively shutting his mouth. 

"You'll catch flies." you smirk as Harry swats your hand from his face. 

"Lay off." he grumbles. 

In the ministry box, Cornelius Fudge rises as Lucius Malfoy and Draco take their seats nearby.

"Good evening! As Minister for Magic, it gives me great pleasure to welcome each and every one of you to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup! Let the match begin!"

A ball of light busts from Fudge's wand. Harry watches Viktor Krum rocket upward, the crowd roaring as he rises into the glittering night sky, the stadium growing smaller, a glimmering disc of light. 

Harry and the others lie about, unable to sleep as they excitedly re-live the match. 

"Such a big fuss over a sport. All he did was catch a ball." you grumble as you flip to another page of you book from where you lie on your bed, shoes tossed lazily about on the floor next to you as you rhythmically tap your sock-clad feet. 

"An incredibly fast ball that's near impossible to spot!" Harry drapes an Irish flag over your lounging figure and you growl, tearing the flag off in the split second after it made contact with your body. 

"You're infuriating." you wad up the flag best you can and chuck it towards Harry violently, who catches it with ease. 

"Thank you." Harry smiles cheekily. 

"Brilliant Krum, wasn't he? Did you see him put Lynch into the ground with the Wronski Feint? It was positively brutal." Ron rambles on.

"I think you're in love, Ron." you giggle from where you sits, eyes never leaving the spot on your page. 

"Quiet, you." Ron bites back. 

Just then, a chant of voices rise like a lion's roar beyond the tent. Fred grins. 

"Sounds like the Irish have got their pride on." Fred ambles confidently towards the flap of the tent before Arthur bursts in urgently and looks around frantically. 

"It's not the Irish."

The others turn to see Arthur standing by the flap peering out. Something in his voice causes their smiles to wither. 

"Get yourselves dressed." Arthur orderes hurriedly. Once he notices the hesitation in everyone else, he barks another other. "Now!"

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and you scramble out of the tent and stare with disbelief at the hellish tableaux before you. All around you, people run in terror, trampling fires and kicking up sparks. Then you see why:

A teeming clot of black-robed wizards, faces concealed behind hideous masks, are marching across the campsite, laughing drunkenly. Some clutch torches while others point their wands skyward, where four people tumble eerily high above.

"Who are those people? In the air?" your hand shakes as you gesture to the bodies above. 

"Muggles." Arthur answers solemnly. You gulps hard and divert your attention. 

"And the ones on the ground?" 

"Death Eaters." Hermione answers in the same fashion. 

Harry looks puzzled by this, but as Arthur draws his wand, Harry does the same without question. 

"No." you grab his wrist and push his arm back to his side. 

"Get back to the Portkey, all of you. And stick together. Fred, George, you're responsible for Y/N. Y/N, you listen to your brothers." Arthur insists firmly as his eyes scan over the group. You shift uncomfortably and open your mouth to reply when a scream cuts you off from a passing civilian. The scream set everyone on edge and Arthur takes his tone up a notch. 

"Y/N! Did you hear me?!" he scolds intensely. You blink, startled by your father's fierce expression, then nod slowly and surely. Arthur dashes off. 

Fred and George glance at each other and nod. They gently shove you towards Harry and you grunt, spinning around to face them. "Dad said to-"

"We know what Dad said. You're better off looking after Harry and him after you." Fred smiles slightly. 

"Yeah, and with your clumsy ass and your looking-for-trouble attitude, you balance each other out." George finishes curtly. 

"Stay safe!" They disappear into the frantic crowd. 

Harry is the first to move, reaching back and swiping your hand from your side and holds it close to him. "Come on." he beckons, pulling you along through the chaos. 

They streak past blazing tents. You feel your hand become less and less tightly gripped in Harry's fingers before you find it slipping away. Lost in the mob, you falls back. Fred and George flash briefly in the crowd, then vanish. Hermione turns, frantic eyes finding Harry. 

"Y-Y/N was with you- where is she?" Hermione's frantic eyes search the panicking crowd. She sees no glimpse of you. 

"Where is my sister?" Ron steps towards Harry and gazes at him accusingly. Harry looks back and realizes that his hand is in fact empty. He takes immediate action.

Harry dashes on, buffeted back and forth by the raging crowd. He stumbles, falls, struggles to rise, and is trampled again. Bootheels punish the earth all around him. One strikes his temple hard and he collapses. He sees you, frantic, before his vision escapes him.

[hoshi-u-love-me]

TTT

Group : Seventeen

Pairing : Seventeen × Reader

Genre : Drabble

Word count : 1.7k

Warning : Randomness, absurdity, 🐴이 안되는 컨텐즈, perverted tendencies (it's ok tho it's not harrassment)

a/n : I saw this one video where hannie literally stashed mentos and dalgona in his front overall pocket and I just !!!!!!! EUREKA

One thing you love about your friend group is that nothing ever happens twice. Meaning life is never boring. It is never flat. There is always something you can expect but you don't know what.

Kind of like anxiety.

But better.

So when Kim Mingyu came to your place, pack YOUR bag with YOUR clothes and YOUR other essentials and claimed that he's kidnapping you, you weren't even surprised.

He had taken every one to an impromptu road trip, going as far as renting a minibus without anyone knowing.

"Yah, Kim Mingyu, you forgot my phone charger!" You whined, throwing a crumpled piece of snack wrapper at him, who was driving.

He snaps his head in your direction for a split second before refocusing on the road, "I'm sorry, but you had a lot of things to begin with"

Chan, who was seated next to you, leaned in and whispered, "that and he was totally distracted by your drawer full of panties and bras" he smirked when he saw you widening your eyes in horror.

"Waaaaaaaaaah, Kim Mingyu is a pervert!" Jeonghan yelled from behind you, teasing the younger, "Kim Mingyu saw (Y/N)'s panties and he likes it!" He continued.

Mingyu stammered, trying to explain himself, "y-yah! No! I mean, I-I did saw it but- but- I was helping her! She wouldn't do it herself and someone has to do it! (Y/N)! You should be thankful of me, if I didn't pack them, you'd have no underwear for the rest of the trip!!" He yelled back.

This time, it was Jun who quipped at him, "so the choices were you seeing her undergarments or us knowing she's not wearing anything underneath? Mingyu-yah, you're selfish"

You groaned at their childish behaviour, "that's it! I'm looking for girl friends to hang out with"

You had hoped that would shut the conversation down but your poor choice of words only resulted in most of them ooh-ing you, "girl on girl action, nice" Seungcheol joked from the front seat next to Mingyu.

At Seungcheol's words, the car went to a whole new level of crazy.

It took 15 minutes before the subject of the conversation changed and boy were you relieved.

Seokmin leaned forward from his seat to tap on your shoulder, "(Y/N), I don't feel so good, do you have anything to help my nausea?" You reached into your bag, trying to look for anything that could help his carsickness but found nothing.

Before you can tell him the bad news though, Jeonghan who was seated next to him had shoved something to his hands, "here, I figured someone might be getting sick of MINGYU'S SHITTY DRIVING SKILLS," he yelled the last part to make sure Mingyu heard him, "so that should help"

"Anything for back pain, hyung?" Soonyoung quipped, "I think I pulled something during yesterday's practice" he pouted.

Jeonghan reached into his bag for a second before producing a patch that could help Soonyoung's problem, "don't worry, it's the brand you like that doesn't smell so bad" he said as he leaned back and hand the small item to the younger guy.

Chan got curious and decided to test Jeonghan, "what about something to nibble on? I think I'm kinda hungry" he said. Jeonghan raised an eyebrow at him, "you think you should snack right now? When we get to the town we're gonna have something to eat and it's in like- wait, Mingyu, how much longer 'till we get there?"

Instead of Mingyu, it was Seungcheol who answered him, "an hour and a half-ish, might as well get comfy back there" he said.

"See? Come on hyung, I'll be splitting some of the snack with (Y/N) anyways and I'll still be able to eat there!" Chan whined. Jeonghan was already convinced by Seungcheol's answer anyways so he thought, 'why not?' Before reaching back into his bag and took a bag of chips and handing it over to Chan, "but share with (Y/N), I don't want to lose my place as her favorite member" he said, winking at you when you turn your head towards him.

"Who said you're my favorite member? It could easily be Chan or Vernon since both of them have my back most of the times" you retorted at him which elicit a "yup yup, cool guys squad never dies" from Vernon at the very back while pumping his fist at you in which you returned. Chan on the other hand was laughing.

This time, Jeonghan raised an eyebrow at you, as if daring you to say more, "I said so because if you won't admit it, I won't lend you one of my chargers" he lifted up a phone charger from his bag.

You squinted your eyes at him and scoffed, "that's an iphone charger." He feigned a shocked look, going as far as putting a hand to his chest, "dear baby (Y/N), I am trully shocked that you don't think I know you at all" he shook his head with mock sadness.

It was until he reached back into his bag again and lifted up a type-C charger proudly with a smirk, "m'lady" he dangle the charger for a bit in front of your face before dropping it on your lap.

"Okay, no, you're right, you're my favourite member" you grinned and shot him a flying kiss which he pretended to catch and press to his heart.

"Woah, hyung, that's awesome! What else do you have in your bag?" Seokmin exclaimed, leaning closer to Jeonghan to take a peek inside his bag.

Jeonghan hummed and scanned the content, "basic things that you guys might need I guess, like... earplugs?" "Oop- that's for me I think" Minghao said from next to Vernon, making Jeonghan toss the items to him so he could sleep.

He then returned to name some other things which entices Seungkwan to say the least. "I bet you don't have EVERY 'basic needs' though" he scoffed, crossing his arms.

This made Jeonghan slightly offended. He turned in his seat to glare at the younger, "I so do!" "Nuuh, you couldn't have" "what if I do?" "Okay, if you have 5 items that I ask for then I'll pay for your next meal" "Done!" "Done!"

Seungkwan narrowed his eyes for a few momenta before clapping his hands, "ah, this, eyemask" Jeonghan took out two eyemasks from his bag before shoving it back in.

"That's easy... what about... masks?"

Jeonghan shoved his hands in and pulled out two items, "which one? Anti-covid or beautifying your face?"

You 'ooh'-ed at him, "oh yeah, we're DEFINITELY having a beauty night tonight" he said.

"Does that mean-"

You were cut off when he took out a jar of facemask that you both loved. Seeing the item in his hand made you squeal in delight.

"Damn it, that was my next guess," Seungkwan muttered under his breath, "okay so, I'll play fair and call it 3 out of 5... but next is... iphone earbuds!" He exclaimed, trying to trick his hyung since he knew his hyung uses a samsung phone.

(Not so) shockingly, he had one in his bag, holding it proudly.

While Seokmin and Soonyoung were whooping in excitement and wonder, Seungkwan was muttering curses under his breath.

Jeonghan looked extremely proud of himself, he had a grin permanently etched on his face which irked Seungkwan even more due to his smugness.

"Okay, okay, one more, you don't have this then I won't have to pay for your damn meal" he said. Jeonghan just shrugged and motioned for Seungkwan to go forth with his guess.

It took him a moment to think of something. Eyebrows were scrunched and eyes flitting, indicating that he's thinking hard.

A look of revelation suddenly appeared on his face. With a smirk, he bravely said, "sanitary pads"

The whole car 'boo'ed at him and his absurd guess. "That is just absurd!" Jihoon said, "hey, I played fair! He said anything!" Seungkwan retorted, defending himself.

Everyone was split between supporting Seungkwan's guess and saying that he was misusing the loophole, some were just straight up calling him nasty, in which you replied with, "how is it nasty ? YOU're nasty"

"Everyone, everyone!" Jeonghan called out, effectively shutting everyone up, "Seungkwan may have found a loophole and it is within his rights to use it, because let's be honest I would've too if I were him," he chuckled.

"However! What he did not realize is that I'm amazing" he smirked.

"No way..." Seungkwan said under his breath.

Jeonghan only nodded victoriously. He reached into his bag for the last time, grab the thing he wanted and held it up proudly.

The whole car went crazy.

Even the driving Mingyu got curious and looked back and forth between the back seat and the road ahead, earning a scolding smack from Seungcheol.

Seungkwan yelled out in disdain, screaming "this is unfair!" Multiple times.

"You forgot it's nearing (Y/N)'s time of the month and she seem to always have it at the most unconvenient time" he smirked.

This made you scrunch your face at him, "how did you know about my cycle??" "You seem to forget that I know a lot of stuffs about you" he smiled proudly. That didn't make you feel any better initially though.

You turn to look at Chan, "does he really know my cycle?" You asked. Chan nodded with a tight-lipped smile at you, "he remind everyone to take precautions whenever it's your period or nearing your period so that you wouldn't lash at anyone for being annoying, he even mark it on his calendar"

Now his constant sweet texts, food delivered, desserts bought, and hoodies lent during your period makes much more sense.

Knowing what you learnt, you look at Jeonghan with puppy dog eyes, batting your lashes at him, "awww you really do care about me don't you, Hannie ?" He squealed and grab your face in his hands, "awww of course I do, you're our baby, my baby" he spoke as if he was speaking with a baby.

Chan frowned at the sight before him, "I thought I was supposed to be the baby around here"

[adventuresinwonderlust]

Title: I Still Get Jealous

Pairing: jealous dom! yoongi x reader ft. JK

Warnings: established relationship, jealousy themes, public sex kind of, smut, like filthy nasty smut, degradation, cum eating, spitting just a little, daddy kink, fluff if you squint at the end, teasing, oral (m) receiving, spanking, unprotected sex (wrap it up folks!)

Rating: 18 and over

“Cheers to us!” You shout, slamming your shot glass into that of your coworkers. You and your team had hit your sales quote for the end of the year, and you all wanted to celebrate, so you head out to a local lounge after work to get drunk. “Let’s dance!” Your coworker Alice pulls you over to join her on the dance floor. “I’m waiting for Yoongi.” You shout over the music. “OK well, he can find you shaking your ass on the dance floor. Now come on!” You laugh and give in, shaking your hips to the music.

This would be the first time Yoongi would be meeting people from the team, which was fine by you. There was only one person you were nervous of him meeting; one person in particular. Jungkook, the office hottie, who looked more like he should be posing in one of those firefighter calendars rather than pushing malware sales. Yoongi was always super jealous and so you made sure to stray away from talking about JK and the fact that all the women at your office would drool over him in the work group chat, yourself included.

It definitely didn’t help that he was your direct partner in sales or that he had a huge crush on you. Try as you might to avoid it, you couldn’t help but flirt a bit when he threw on his charms. “Don’t look now! JK!” Alice yells, arms opened wide as he joins you both on the dance floor. “Hey pint size.” JK greets you with your office nickname that pokes fun at your height and you can’t help but smile wide. “You look amazing! Definitely not pint sized tonight! ” He comments, pulling you close to his body as he sways you back and forth to the rhythm of the music. You dressed in a black mini skater skirt, black thigh high socks, and black booties offset with a white crop top sweater. Your intention was to drive Yoongi wild tonight, it seems however to be catching JK off guard. You blush profusely as he drinks you in.

“Finished up the last of your work?” You inquire to take his mind off undressing you with his eyes. “Yeah. I wanted to make sure all of our numbers were sent in before the end of business. Sorry I showed up late.” “No worries. You haven’t missed much.” He smirks at your comment, drinking you in once again, and your stomach knots. Your mind shifts to Yoongi and how he’d react seeing you right now. “You ok?” JK whispers in your ear, briefly placing his hand on the small of your back. You nod quickly. “I’m good, yeah.” “I just want to say. I think you’re an amazing partner. I couldn’t have met my number if you weren’t by my side.” JK praises, lifting his hand to tuck your hair behind your ear. You see his eyes scan your face, your lips, your neck. You clear your throat, feeling your face flush. “Uh, you, are so awesome also, like we make a good team. All of us, really, are great.” You try to bring the focus to the entire team. “Yeah definitely. I couldn’t agree more but I guess what I am trying to say is that I would really love to get to know you on a more personal level. Take you out to dinner sometime.” He smiles seductively, twirling your hair around his finger before pulling your waist into his. You stumble over your words, feeling your body tense. “JK, that’s nice of you but…” You begin to explain and push his waist away before being interrupted.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Alice whispers in your ear while stepping between you and JK, “but please tell me that that gorgeous guy sitting on the couch in our VIP section staring at you is not Yoongi.” You scan past her, searching, feeling as if you could gag as your eyes meet those of Yoongi’s. He sits slightly bent over, mouth open, looking your body up and down. His palms are pressed together while his chin rest on his thumbs. Your breath hitches at how amazing he looks. He shows no emotion but you can feel his heat from across the room. You swallow thickly as JK wraps himself around you, bringing you both into a slow sway.

Yoongi’s eyes darken at the sight of another man’s hands on you. He stands quickly and smirks at you, walking over to you and JK. He stands before you both and cocks his head to the side. JK notices and pulls you closer causing Yoongi’s lips to pull into a tight smile. “What’s up man? Can I help you? Do you know pint size over here?” JK questions. Yoongi smiles seductively at you and a chill runs down your spine. “Pint size and I go way back. Don’t we baby?” Yoongi nods to you then brings his lips to a pout. “Uh, JK, this is Yoongi, my boyfriend.” You turn to announce to JK’s surprise. Yoongi gives JK a shit eating grin. “Oh wow,” He pulls his body away from you but still holds onto your hip, “I didn’t know she had a boyfriend. Sorry man.” Yoongi raises his eyebrows briefly. “No worries friend. Pint size loves keeping things fun and exciting for me, don’t you baby?” “Don’t be a dick Yoongi.” You snip. “Oh, I’m sorry. Are pet names only for, I’m sorry, what was your name again?” Yoongi points at JK. “Jungkook.” Yoongi nods but keeps his eyes locked on you. “Tell me Jungkook, does she have a cute pet name for you?” “Five alarm.” JK responds with confidence and your heart drops. Yoongi looks at him in complete confusion.

“Like five alarm fire. All the girls at the office call me that. They joke that I look like a fireman.” He chuckles. Yoongi joins in for a brief moment before excusing himself, heading to grab a drink at the bar. You scurry behind him. “Don’t be upset. It’s not what you think.” You say as Yoongi throws back a shot. “I’m not mad pint size.” He licks his lips, turning to face you. “Don’t call me that ok. You’re just doing it to be an asshole.” Yoongi hums, leaning in to whisper in your ear. “Tell me whore, are you loose with your mouth tonight because you think daddy won’t bend you over in front of all of your little friends?” “No.” You reply meekly, feeling your core heat under his lust filled gaze. He runs his slender fingers along your jawline before walking off to join your group of friends. You bite your lip, trying to calm yourself as JK approaches you.

“Everything ok?” “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” “Your boyfriend seems uncomfortable. Just wanted to check on you…” He nods in Yoongi’s direction and continues talking but soon his voice fades off as you look over at Yoongi who is seated watching your every move. “Y/N, hello?” “Huh? What? I’m sorry.” “I said that I would still like to take you out sometime. I know you have a boyfriend but I figure we can still have dinner as friends.” “Sure, uh, yeah. I’d like that.” He smiles wide and pulls you into a hug, nuzzling into your neck. You tap his back awkwardly and watch as Yoongi cocks his head to the side. “We should get back to the group.” You pull away and head over to sit beside Yoongi. You scan his face for any sort of emotion but he gives you none. He never even looks over at you, instead striking up conversation with Alice. As the night progresses, Yoongi does everything in his power to ignore you. He moves through the party with ease, mingling with all your coworkers as if they’ve been friends for years. Alice laughs loudly, throwing her head back obnoxiously, at something Yoongi has said and you shoot them both a deadly look, having had enough.

You pull Yoongi from the couch and over towards the dance floor where you can speak privately. “Everything ok pint size?” He drawls. “Are you serious? You’re going to act like a child and ignore me? And cut the shit with the nickname ok, I’m over it already.” Yoongi looks over at your coworkers who are all engaged in conversation before grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling you into his body. He forcefully yanks back your head to expose your neck to him and licks a long stripe from the base of your neck to your chin, digging you into his growing erection and sway you back and forth as if your dancing. “Keep talking whore, I’m just taking notes for when I have you all to myself. I can’t wait to have you repeat everything you’ve said tonight with my cock stuffed down your throat.” “Fuck, Yoongi.” You pant, grinding your hips into his hard on. “Such a cock whore for me. Dying for me to wreck you. Maybe I should pull you into the bathroom and fuck you stupid while five alarm and all your coworkers wonder where you’ve gone. You’d like that wouldn’t you? Having your little work crush come looking for you, find me pounding your needy cunt. Do you think he’d stay and watch? I bet you’d like that wouldn’t you whore? Have him palm his cock to the sounds of your desperate moans.” Yoongi whispers into your ear, placing kisses along your lobe. You moan softly. “Answer me whore.” “Yes daddy. I want you to fuck me so bad. I want to be punished.” Yoongi chuckles softly into your ear. “Hm, that’s too bad, only good girls get fucked and right now you’re being a very bad girl. ” He grabs a handful of your ass, kisses your neck gently, and walks away with a bite of his lip. You clench your now soaked cunt around nothing, whimpering as he leaves you high and dry. You loved and hated when Yoongi was in a jealous fit. He was unreasonable outside the bedroom, always unwilling to give into your antics as you made attempts at seeking his attention but inside the bedroom, he was the most amazing lover. He was always sure to tease and please you in the most delicious way, reminding you exactly who you belonged to.

You collect yourself and walk over to the group, taking a seat on the arm of the couch since your seat next to Yoongi has been occupied by Alice. Your blood boils as he stares so deeply at her, biting his lip, and giving her all his attention. You know he is just trying to make you feel the way he is right now, he has no interest in Alice, still it eats at you, provokes you even. “So, JK, when did you wanna grab dinner?” You say loud enough for Yoongi’s ears to perk up. “Uh, whenever you want. I’m free whenever.” “Cool, how about during the week, after work. Let’s say Monday.” JK nods. “Yeah, I’m down. Any place in particular you want to go?” You shrug. “You pick. I love being surprised.” You smirk, rubbing your hand along his bicep, and you swear you hear Yoongi growl. “How about a dance Alice?” Yoongi offers, getting up and extending a hand to her. “Uh, if it's ok with Y/N.” Alice turns to you. You scoff and look at Yoongi. “She doesn’t mind, right pint size? Now come on gorgeous, show me how you move.” Alice giggles and allows Yoongi to lead her out on the dance floor.

You watch as Yoongi takes Alice by the hips and maneuvers her body around. She all too willingly allows him to control her every move. She wraps her arms around Yoongi’s neck, seeming to have found a steady rhythm, and bravely pushes her hips into his. He smiles in amusement at her before looking over at you. “Sorry, had to run to the restroom. What did I miss?” JK pops up again, handing you a fresh shot. You drink it happily, rising from your seat and taking JK around the neck. “Let's dance JK. You’re such a good dancer.” You giggle, feeling JK trail his hands along your spine. “You sure that’s a good idea.” You nod slowly, pulling him towards the dance floor, taking a spot right beside Yoongi and Alice. “Y/N, you never mentioned Yoongi was such a good dancer.” Alice calls out to you, spinning around to press her small ass into Yoongi’s crotch. You seethe watching her act like a bitch in heat all over your man. “You shouldn't start what you can't finish." Yoongi warns as you and he spin past each other. You raise your eyebrows at him in defiance and decide to take matters into your own hands, turning just the same as Alice, grinding your very plump ass shamelessly into JK’s crotch, unbothered by your skirt hitching up a bit.

JK grips your hips tightly, a small moan escaping his lips. You run your hands up into his hair and press your back into his chest, falling into a sensual rhythm with your dance partner, all the while watching the color fade from Yoongi’s face. He whispers something to Alice, who nods simply. Yoongi walks over to you and JK, staring down at where your hips are connected. “It's time to go.” Yoongi states calmly. JK scoffs and wraps his arms around you completely. You drop your hands from his hair and wrap them over his, allowing him to pull you closer. “I can drop her off later friend.” He remarks, nuzzling into your neck. You watch as Yoongi’s eyes light on fire. “I wasn’t talking to you, friend.” He’s so hot when he’s this pissed off. You decide to push your luck. “What’s the magic word Min Min?” You tease playfully. JK laughs out loud whilst Yoongi says nothing. He doesn’t have to; you watch as he grips tightly around his belt buckle and you know what he has in mind. He’s had enough of your antics and if you aren’t careful, he may just take you right here on this dance floor, in front of all these people as warned earlier. You turn to face JK. “This was fun. I should really get going though. Dinner Monday yeah?” “Yeah definitely! I had such a good time with you tonight, shame it has to end early. Get home safe. It was nice meeting you Yoongi.” Yoongi nods, hurrying ahead to get away from your group.

He takes you by the wrist, bobbing and weaving through the crowd. “Please don’t be mad at me daddy. I was just teasing. You know how much I love to push your buttons; you’re so sexy when you get riled up.” Yoongi just ignores you, still pulling you along. Annoyed you yank your hand away causing Yoongi to stop and look at you. “If you’re going to ignore me, then I think we should go to our respective apartments tonight. As a matter of fact, I’ll just rejoin my friends and enjoy the rest of my night with them.” You turn to walk away but are immediately yanked back. Yoongi’s lips are on yours in no time, pulling you into an angry kiss. You moan lustfully into his mouth reaching up to cup his face. He grabs your wrist and pulls your arms behind your back, continuing the assault on your mouth. “Yoongi, please. There are people watching. We can’t.” You begin to plead breathlessly between kisses, wriggling in his hold as he trails kisses down your neck, lifting your sweater to fondle your breast. “Afraid of everyone knowing what a cock whore you are?” He growls, nipping at your nipple through your bra.

You yelp, frantically looking around, hoping no one sees. “Oh god, Yoongi, the security guard is walking this way." You cry out, feeling Yoongi suckle your erect nub through the sheer material. He mutters a curse under his breath and begins to yank you behind him once again. “You’re going the wrong way,” You shout at the back of his head, “the exit is the other way.” He pulls you hard into the restroom and slams the door shut being sure to lock it behind him. He presses you against the door, lifting your sweater up, once again latching onto your nipple through your sheer bra. You moan loudly, wrapping a leg around his waist. He takes the opportunity run his hand up your exposed thigh, slapping it hard before gripping the plump flesh. “God damn, Fuck me daddy, please!” You cry out reaching down to stroke his massive erection. He releases your nipple to watch in pleasure as you mewl and wriggle against him, dying for his cock. “My greedy little cock whore. So desperate for cock, didn’t care who filled you tonight did you?” He pants against your ear, grinding into your throbbing cunt. You whimper at the sweet sensation his cock against your clit causes.

“Please, daddy, I only want you.” “Really,” He drops his head to your neck and bites down hard, suckling soon after to create a large purple mark in its wake, “I remember someone else’s hands on these hips.” He replies, lifting you off the ground, wrapping both legs around his waist. You cuss over his lips, shoving your tongue into his mouth as you buck and grind against his jailed member. “I need you, want you inside me.” You pant, feeling your core tighten with your quickened pace. “That’s enough whore.” Yoongi groans, dropping you to your feet. Your legs are shaky, and you feel your climax fade away. “What the fuck Yoongi?” You shove him back. His eyes darken as he smirks at you, pulling you away from the door and leading you further into the restroom. “I’m not playing around Yoongi! Fuck me or let me leave. I’m not going to stroke your ego tonight. Especially when there are other people out there who want me.” “Other people huh? Like your little work boyfriend?” “Exactly right, and please believe he’s more than eager to taste this cunt.” He chuckles now, unbuckling his belt. “Lean on the sink whore, lift that skirt, show me your ass! Right now!” You watch him for a moment longer, then excitedly turn and pull your skirt up, leaning on your elbows, pushing your ass out as far as you can. “Always so eager.” He growls. “Anything for you daddy." “That’s my girl.” He praises before coming down on your exposed ass with his leather belt. You cry out at the burning sensation. Your cunt clenching and soaking through your sheer thong. He hums in approval at you as you twirl your hips side to side, coming down again with another thwack. You gasp, pressing your forehead against the cold counter, pushing out further for him. “Fuck my whore is so sexy. Look how red this sweet ass gets for me. My cock is so hard for you baby. How’d I get so lucky?” You pout and twirl your hips some more. “Don’t stop daddy. I need more. I’ve been so bad.” Yoongi dips his head back so overcome with lust as a low growl escapes his throat. He gladly obliges with two more hard cracks of his leather, one across the ass, the other across your thighs. You scream his name with each one, earning low groans from him. “Such a good whore.” He praises, slowly lowering down to his knees, unbuttoning his jeans. “Get on all fours right now you fucking slut.” You nod and lower yourself before him. “Open your mouth for me.” He pants, freeing his thick length. You moan out whilst opening as wide as you can. Yoongi strokes himself gently, moving towards your gaping mouth. He slowly swirls his head around your lips, coating them in his salty pre-cum. “Tongue out.” He commands. You roll your tongue out, curling it around his length as he slaps his member against it. He takes you by your hair and slowly shoves the whole of his cock into your mouth, hitching his hips forward ever so gently. You moan around him causing him to grip your hair tighter.

“God has never made a better cock sleeve.” He grunts, slamming into your throat, eliciting a body trembling gag. He moans loudly at the feeling. “No one takes cock like you baby. Do you think I’d ever let that inexperienced bag of muscle touch you? He’d cum just from the scent of your needy cunt.” He hitches forward once more, hissing as you gag and drool all over him. “Still wish it was him in your mouth? Still wish he could watch?” He growls pulling out slightly, allowing you time to catch your breath. “No, daddy.” You pant. He pouts at you, shoving himself deep into your throat again. “I love when you lie.” He moans, coming down on your ass with a hard thwack of his belt. You shove forward swallowing more of his cock, your nose pressed against his pubic bone. “Fuck!” He cries out, coming down again with his belt. A loud slam on the door causes you pull off his cock much to his surprise. “I wasn’t finished whore.” “Someone’s knocking.” You swallow hard, nervously looking at the door. Yoongi stands now, helping you to your feet. “I don’t give a fuck who’s at the door.” He lifts you up and onto the counter. You cry out at the sting from the cold against your fresh formed welts. Another slam on the door causes you to jump and attempt to lean forward. Yoongi shoves you back, dropping his hand between your legs to rub your clothed center. “Occupied,” He yells before turning his attention to you, “already soaked through huh whore? I bet I’d slide right inside you, wouldn’t I?”

You grind against his hand, nodding excitedly. “Use your words whore!” He shouts, pinching your sensitive bud through your panties. You hiss, bucking forward. “Yes! Fuck yes!” He smiles wide at your reaction. “You like that, do you whore?” “Yes.” You quiver, opening your legs wide. He shoves your skirt up, yanking down your thong. “Spread your lips for me.” You drop your hands down, opening your folds for him. He bites his lip looking over your exposed pussy. “So. Fucking. Wet! Look at yourself whore, dripping down onto this counter with your fucking need.” He hums to himself, dropping his head down to your exposed hood and slurping up your clit in his mouth. “Jesus, God! Yoongi!” You yell, thighs shaking at the twisted feeling of pleasure and overstimulation. He nips at your clit, lifting his head up to your dismay. “What did you call me?” “I’m sorry,” You pant, “please don’t stop.” He smiles. “Don’t stop what?” He muses, shoving two fingers into your sopping pussy. You clench instantly as he begins to pump in and out of you. You throw your head back against the mirror. “More.” You barely manage. “So, fucking greedy.” He replies softly into your ear, shoving a third finger into you. You whimper, grabbing hold of his rock-hard cock, stroking him from root to tip. “Please can I make daddy cum? I want you to cum all over my face. Use me as your cum rag.” You breathlessly beg, hastening your pace. Yoongi pants against your ear, moving his fingers in and out of you at the same pace in which you stroke his length. “Faster whore.” He goads, removing his fingers from your clenching cunt. You whine at the sudden loss of his touch but revel in his glorious lust filled stance. He grips your thighs for balance, tossing his head back, spewing curses under his breath, his bangs sticking to his sweat covered forehead.

Soft moans escape his bobbing throat. “I’m going to cum. On your knees!” You slide off the counter quickly, still stroking, hitting your knees with a loud thud. He takes his cock from you, rubbing large circles around his tip with one hand, and guiding your head back with the other. You open your mouth for him as he cries out, the first shot of his hot seed shooting into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat, he guides his quivering cock around your face, releasing long strands onto your cheeks, your lips, and your chin, sure to avoid your eyes. He moves his tip against your lips, rubbing it softly against your tongue, the last bits of his climax coating the tip of your moist appendage. He pulls his cock away wrapping his long slender fingers around your jaw, keeping it wide open for him, a small moan escapes as you watch your lover drop a small amount of spit into your mouth. “Swallow whore.” He commands, releasing you. You gulp down the concoction happily, opening wide to show him what a good girl you are. He breaths raggedly, watching you in approval, lifting a hand to swirl his cum around your face and into your mouth. You lap up all the sweet/ salty mixture you can reach with your tongue before Yoongi swirls his coated fingers over your lips. “Such a cum whore for daddy. Look how you eat up my cum up like it’s your favorite treat. I could drain my balls and you'd still want more.” You suckle at his fingers, swallowing his thick fluids, and nod. “I love daddy's cum.” He helps you to your feet and spins you around, bending you over the counter. “You’ve been such a good whore for daddy. Is my whore ready to cum?” “Yes daddy, please.” He bites on your earlobe as he slowly enters your sopping cunt. You both gasp at how desperately your walls clench and grip at his thick cock. “Fuck, always so fucking tight for daddy.” He admires you for a minute in the mirror, your mouth wide, holding back a sob whilst he shoves deeper inside your tight walls until he bottoms out. You cry out as he begins to slam in and out of your cunt, curving his body slightly to rub his full head against your g-spot. He takes a handful of your hair and lifts your head up so you can see yourself in the mirror. “I want you to see what I see whore. I want you to see why I love you so fucking much. Just look at how gorgeous you look when you take my cock. Fuck, I could explode just watching you come undone.” His words cause your belly to burn as your climax rises from your toes, you can barely even form words, only able to babble as drool forms at the sides of your mouth.

He smirks at your fucked out look, swirling the fresh drool with his dried cum, and bringing it into your gaping mouth. You moan around his fingers, sucking hard at his digits. He yanks his fingers from your mouth, coming down hard on your ass with a loud slap. “Whose sopping cunt is this?” “Yours daddy! It’s all yours.” “Damn fucking right it is!” He grunts, taking you by the hips, quickening his pace. You hopelessly claw at something to hold onto as he rams into you. His animal like sounds bringing you closer and closer to your finish. Your toes curl in your shoes and your calf muscles tighten as you try to maintain a steady footing. Yoongi wraps an arm around your waist to help steady you, bringing his free hand down to make figure eights on your swollen clit. “Uh, fuck, I can't, I'm gonna fucking come so hard daddy.” “Mm, that’s right whore, cum on daddy's cock. Scream for me, I want to hear you cry for this cock.” Your climax begins as a slow tremor within your walls that burns deliciously into an explosion of forceful pulses throughout your cunt that has her clamping down on Yoongi’s cock so intensely it pulls a sob from his throat. You don’t hold back, so overcome by the crashing waves of bliss you yell out his name until your throat is raw. He continues fucking into you his breath becoming more and more uneasy as his balls tighten against you. “It’s too much daddy.” You whine, overstimulation hitting you. “Fuck! This glorious fucking cunt!” He shouts, slamming hard into your cervix, his release pulsing against your cervical opening. His thrust become sloppy as he comes down from his high, his cum slowly seeping out of you. He rests his head on your back, allowing you both time to catch your breath. “I love you. I fucking love you so much.” He pulls out of you, helping you up, and pulling you into a soft kiss. You melt into his warmth, nibbling at his plump bottom lip. “I love you too.” “I’m sorry if I was too rough,” He rubs his large hands over your sore ass, “I still get jealous. I’m trying to be better.” You laugh at his pouty confession. “If you keep fucking me like that, I might just keep making you jealous.” He scoffs kissing you softly again. “Let’s go home for real baby. I’ll take care of you.” You nod in approval, fixing yourselves up. Yoongi holds your hair back as you wash your face in the sink, once you feel you look presentable again, you stuff your thong in his jacket pocket and make for the exit. You unlock the door anxiously expecting a line but luckily there is no one waiting. You both shove through the crowd toward the exit when you feel a tug on your hand. “You’re still here?” JK smiles at you. “Uh, well, we uh.” “Fucked in the bathroom.” Yoongi offers up with a straight face. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head as JK laughs out loud. “Wait, what? Are you serious?” He looks from you to Yoongi and back again. Yoongi laughs wide, exposing his gums. “I’m fucking with you kid!” JK huffy a bit before breaking into a full laugh. “You’re funny man,” JK bumps his fist into Yoongi's shoulder, “Hey get home safe again ok pint size, dinner Monday night.” He winks with all his might at you, walking off into the crowd. Yoongi rolls his eyes, resting his hand on the small of your back. He places a soft kiss on your temple, lowering a bit to whisper in your ear. “You know you’re not going to dinner with him right?” You chuckle, leaning into Yoongi’s chest. “Will you fuck me in the ass as punishment if I do?” Yoongi bites his lip, “Such an insatiable appetite my whore has.” He whispers, swatting you on the ass. “I’ll never get enough of you daddy.” You mewl, savoring the feel of the night air on your face.

[pennamesmith]

Return of the Skeletor

A family reunion. Find more Skeletor stories here! 

*

Micah remembered the other world. 

Most people could, in fact. The whole planet was affected. They’d all lived a life they thought was perfect. They’d all imagined something intangible. The memories were faded and fragmentary, like the recollection of a dream, but everyone was certain it had really happened. 

Even if nothing that had happened was real. 

At first Micah didn’t realize anyone else had shared in the dream. He’d lost track of time on Beast Island long ago, and when the collapsing portal closed around him he only assumed it was one of the despairing wasteland’s many tricks. He never had long to dwell on the matter, either. Soon after finding himself returned to reality (he could remember shouting to Angella, reaching for her, trying to tell her “I’m not dead!”) Micah had met the loud and unusual Princess Entrapta. And after her there came…

“She-Ra! It’s She-Ra!” a nasally voice shrieked. 

Micah was startled out of his reverie by a sudden clattering of hooves. The door to his Bright Moon office burst inwards and he was presented with the sight of a breathless Swift Wind. Sitting astride the rainbow-winged unicorn was one of Entrapta’s bots, a lanky drone she’d named ‘Skeletor.’

“The time has come!” Skeletor said. 

“It’s true!” Swift Wind confirmed. “I felt the sacred bond return just a minute ago. Adora and the others are back from Eternia! Darla is over the Whispering Woods right now!”

“What?” Micah jumped to his feet, abandoning his desk without a second thought. It was covered in a mountain of paperwork: royal records, his regent’s duties, and the calendar pages where he’d marked off every day since Glimmer and the rest of the Princess Alliance left for their dangerous mission to another universe. He rushed to the door where Swift Wind was standing. 

Skeletor reached out and helped Micah onto the horse’s back. “Join hands as we bring together our mystic powers!” the robot cried. Once Micah was settled, Swift Wind turned and leapt out the nearest window. They sailed through the skies. 

“What’s going on? Are they all right?” Micah asked, with undisguised worry. 

Swift Wind banked, soaring over the tree line. “I’m not sure! The ship is under control but — look, there it is!” 

Darla, the rebuilt First Ones ship, was descending rapidly from the sky over the treetops. Her flight was steady, but parts of the hull were damaged, and smoke trailed from one wing. Suddenly the ship lurched and plummeted into the trees, vanishing from sight. A plume of vegetation went flying as it plowed to a smouldering stop. 

Micah felt his stomach twist. “We need to get closer!” he called out in a panic. 

“I can take you there!” Skeletor declared, urging Swift Wind toward the ground. They touched down by the edge of a long path of smoking destruction that stretched deep into the woods. 

“They must have landed near here,” Skeletor deduced, observing the massive trench in the ground. He hopped off the horse’s back and ran ahead, making anxious utterances as he went. 

Micah dismounted and walked beside Swift Wind. “I hate this,” Micah confessed. “The staying behind, I mean. At least on Beast Island I was the only one I had to worry about, and I was in control of my own survival. But having to stand by while Glimmer goes into danger? I’m so proud of her, yet I’m also so scared.” 

“I know what you mean,” Swift Wind answered. “I trust Adora, but I also worry about her, like, all the time. Whenever we’re apart I get so restless. I just feel powerless!”  

“Sometimes letting them find their own way is all we can do,” Micah mused. 

They came into a clearing in the woods. Darla was there, sparking and steaming but generally intact. Skeletor hammered on the door. 

“Here, let me try to get you out!” he called. 

Something inside the ship made a noise. There was a hiss and a jet of steam, and Skeletor tumbled backwards, landing with a squawk at Micah and Swift Wind’s feet. They all stared at Darla, holding their breath expectantly.

The front hatch of the spaceship popped open. Entrapta erupted out of it, tumbling down the landing ramp in a ball of frizzled hair. She pulled her goggles up. 

“Aha! We made it!” she crowed, taking in her surroundings. “All in the right dimension and everything!” 

She reached into the recesses of her hair and emerged with a haggard Hordak. “Your piloting saved us! I knew you could do it!” she told him proudly. 

Hordak squinted through half-lidded eyes. “Is it over?” he muttered. “Are we still alive?”

“Yep!” Entrapta wobbled to her feet and gathered her partner up in her ponytails. “Now, let’s get you a checkup and some rest. You’ve had a stressful voyage!” 

She suddenly seemed to notice the gathered onlookers. “Oh! Hi Skeletor. Hi Bird Horse. Hi Micah. Guess what? You’re gonna love this!” Entrapta turned back to the ship. “Safe to disembark, crew!” she yelled, before trotting off with Hordak.

“Now we’ll see how clever you are!” Skeletor said. 

Mermista peeked around the door. “Ground!” she cried, throwing herself across the dirt in relief. “I never thought I’d miss you so much!” 

“Oh, it wasn’t that bad a flight,” Sea Hawk cajoled, helping her to her feet. “Why, I can think of a dozen — no, two dozen more harrowing trips I’ve taken in the Dragon’s Daughter XXVIII.” 

“You fishmonger,” Skeletor scoffed. 

Frosta was the next one out, followed closely by Perfuma and Scorpia. “Eternia was amazing!” the teenaged ice princess announced, brandishing a pair of frozen fists. “I got to punch so much stuff!” 

“Come on, it wasn’t all violence,” Perfuma pleaded. 

“Yeah, we learned a bunch about friendship and responsibility too,” Scorpia agreed. 

“Punch! Punch!” Frosta said. 

“You’re becoming evil, I can sense it!” Skeletor hummed approvingly. “Excellent!” 

Catra and Adora came next, and they were accompanied by a young man Micah had never seen before. He had a pink shirt, bobbed blond hair, and bore an uncanny resemblance to Adora herself. A sword hung on his back. He blinked as he emerged into the light. 

Swift Wind’s jaw dropped. “Adora! Is that…?” 

“Hey guys!” Adora grinned sheepishly. “So, funny story. You remember how when I was a baby I was taken from a hidden First Ones faction that nobody has ever been able to find since?” 

She held her hands out, presenting the newcomer. “Well, uh, we found ‘em! This is my twin brother, Adam!” 

Adam smiled and waved. “Hello everybody,” he chirped. 

“Brother?” Swift Wind sputtered. 

“He-Man!” Skeletor bellowed. 

The group fell into a chattering commotion, but Micah was hardly paying attention. Glimmer and Bow had appeared at the top of the ramp, holding each other as they looked out. Emotions that went beyond words swam in the young queen’s eyes. 

Adora saw where Micah was looking and quickly pulled her brother away. “We’ll tell you the whole story later, sir! Trust me, it’s hilarious. Now come on, I gotta show you around Etheria, bro.”

“Sure thing, sis,” Adam replied, grinning hugely. They pounded their fists together, adding their own sound effects as they did so, and marched off laughing. 

“They have been doing that the entire. Trip. Back,” Catra groaned, following close behind the pair. “Somebody save me.” 

“You furry coward,” muttered Skeletor. 

At the entrance to the ship, Glimmer and Micah hugged each other fiercely. When they finally broke, the old king could see that his daughter was smiling through her tears. 

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Glimmer sniffled. “So much happened. You wouldn’t believe how scary things got! Oh, but I totally had everything under control.” 

“I know you did,” Micah smiled back. But he could tell there was more. 

Glimmer’s face turned serious. “Dad,” she said shakily, tripping over her own words. “Listen. Entrapta’s theories about the other dimension were right. When we — I mean, didn’t know if…” 

Bow stepped in. “Your highness, I think there’s someone you should see.” He beckoned gently. Still at a loss for words, Glimmer nodded and took her father’s hand, leading him inside the ship. 

Micah’s heart was racing even before she rose from the chair and turned to face him. His breath caught when he saw the spreading wings, the shining light, the smiling face that he remembered so clearly. 

Their eyes met. It was a miracle. 

Just like on the island, a part of him couldn’t believe this was really happening. But it was. 

They both reached out. They’d mourned each other once. Their hands met. 

“Micah?” she asked, hardly believing it herself. 

“Angie?” 

*

Outside, both the princesses and their well-wishers had gathered around Adam, excitedly showing off the wonders of their planet. He gazed with delight at everything, marveling in the magical light of Etheria. His laugh brimmed with kindness. 

Skeletor elbowed his way through the crowd. “I can’t let any of you delay me! Out of my way, now!” he jabbered. “This is no time for jokes!” 

He made it to where Adora stood with her brother and glared. Adam turned in surprise, not sure what to expect. They stared at each other. 

Skeletor held his arms wide. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this moment!” he cried. “Take this, He-Man!” 

Then he lunged forward, and wrapped Adam in an enormous hug. 

“He-Man, I am your friend!” 

[infelixxanima]

Homeward Bound

@xleitmotif

One year. She had promised him one year, that’s all he had to do. It was a requirement from the court that while they say Kai’s mother as unfit to care for him, Vittoria simply couldn’t sweep in and steal him away. There were conditions.

Always conditions.

Kai never did care to know too much about Vittoria. She was kind, even when he wasn’t. Despite her failed attempts at cooking, he was always fed. Always safe. And despite his occasional disbelief, always loved. Not the type of love she vocally reminds him of, but the kind when he catches her watching him with that dopey little smile on her face. Or when she buys him new gloves or slips his favorite sweets into his lunch bag. 

And there was no way, and in no words that he could explain that in the court of law. Honestly who could? What they really wanted was her past addresses. Documentation that should be standard and that...well...that every person should have right? Social security number. Birth certificate? She had tried to plead with them that having come from a similar upbringing she had no access to any of those documents. 

“Then he’ll go into a foster home until you can prove who you are.” 

A year, she whispered into his hair before he had to part from her. She must’ve felt it in the tremor of his hands, or the rapid rise and fall of his chest under her leather gloved hands because she said, killing them won’t make this better. 

So he sat, cross legged on the bed in the bland room of his foster home, and stared at the small calendar in his hands. Today would mark an entire year. He’d grown taller, perhaps a bit more moodier, maybe a tiny bit more cynical about the world.

But that was it. Because at the foot of his bed, packed into one suitcase and one large backpack, was everything he owned. He kept it minimal, no need to make it harder to drag his things out when she came for him right? 

He went to sleep fully dressed.

When he woke, he was absolutely glad he had done so.

He’d left the window to his second story bedroom open tonight. It wouldn’t be a hard climb for her and of course he was right. 

She sat cross legged on the window ledge and even in the dark room lit by the moonlight, he could see her bright lopsided grin.

     “Hey kid-- jeez, I’m gone one year and you shoot up like a weed.”

His eyes squint at her as he climbs off the bed. His things are already gone and for a moment he wonders if he should be concerned but, considering the circumstances...considering her? 

Nah. 

     “Took you long enough Ma. I started to doubt you.”

     “No you didn’t,” she teased with a laugh. “You ready?”

He wandered slowly up to the window as she stretched her legs.

      “You know we could use the front door, right?”

     “Oh come on, where’s the fun in that? i wouldn’t be a good parental guardian if i didn’t immediately endanger you life after obtaining legal rights to you.” 

     “You’re psychotic,” he responds and looks out of the window, to the distance down to the ground with a frown. “Want to explain how you got legal rights?”

       “I just know some very good people. Had to do some favors, pull a few strings. You know, crime boss level type stuff--”

He shoots her a look and sees that same annoying smile and roll his eyes in disbelief. He could pressure her for answers, but honestly...he didn’t give a damn. 

She came, that’s all that mattered. Her eyes softened, the playful look in her eyes gone. 

     “You want to say good bye to them?” 

     “No.”

       “Why? Were they awful to you?” 

The air in the room shifts, like a flashwave of hot across his skin and in his lungs followed by cool crisp air that isn’t being filtered in from the outside. 

       “No,” he mumbled, staring at her. “I just don’t care.” 

He expects her to push but she doesn’t. Instead her grin is slow and pleased. “Well, if that’s all then, dare I say, let’s go home yeah?” 

She hops off the window and Kai looks over it again. “Sure we can’t use the front door?” 

      “Nah--”

He turns to face her yet when he does, something seems to crawl and curl around his arms and shoulders. It’s familiar and in a second he knows that the black tendrils weaving in through the open window and tugging on him are of no threat. They’re her.

But without warning he’s yanked back, free falling out the window but she’s not far behind. He offers no resistance, body lax and comfortable as she leaps from the window after him. 

They disappear into the darkness and Kai couldn’t have been any more at ease.

Home is still home. It feels almost like he never left. Everything is clean, some of his things right where he left them. There are no words to exchange as he heads for his room but she stops him once, the look is all it takes to know what she seeks.

The hug is...comfortable. “Let’s never have to do that again,” she whispers, voice shaky and Kai realizes that this year, as hard as it was for him, was equally as taxing on her. 

     “Yeah..never.” is his response. Her thumb brushes his cheek and her eyes glisten when she pulls back. 

      “Night ma.” 

        “Night son,” she says and something strikes through Kai. It’s a warm feeling, one that gives him pause to take a shaky breath. He wasn’t expecting that one, it’s new. But he likes it. It can stay. As he sat his things back into his room in proper order before crawling into bed, he looked at his large bay window. On the inside ledge lay one single solitary feather. 

He snorts and he opens the window and heads to his bed. When he finally crawls into it he calls over his shoulder, “You know, you’re just as bad as her--”

Hawks’ low chuckle fills the room and while he gets it, Hawks is probably visiting to see him after all this time, Kai’s a little more grown up than we was a year ago so he says, “She’s in the kitchen preparing lunch for the week. If you want to catch her before she goes to bed, go now--” 

The pro-hero says nothing but gives Kai a ruffle of his hair and disappears out the door into the hallway.

Kai fell asleep with a smile on his face, and didn’t wake up through the night like before. 

She was home. He was home. Hawks was here and life seemed to be getting better and better by the minute. 

[timebird84]

🎄 PotO Advent Calendar 2020 🎄

By @flora-gray​

The Gift Exchange

(Rated T)

Erik was wrong. 

It was a rare occurrence, in Christine’s experience, but even geniuses don’t know everything about everything, and he certainly didn’t seem to know much about anything when it came to love. 

He had insisted that the distraction of a suitor would interfere with her studies — it had not. She hadn’t missed a single one of their covert lessons, but had continued to put in the endless hours of practice he demanded, with irreproachable focus and without complaint.

He had been adamant that a man of nobility could not be trusted to do right by her, yet here they were, six months on, an engagement ring on Christine’s finger and a gift in Raoul’s hands, carefully wrapped in bright red paper trimmed in gold.

After all those summers at the seaside, this was their first Christmas together, the first of what Raoul promised would be a lifetime of many. Christine chewed at her thumbnail — a nasty habit, Erik would say whenever he caught her — as her fiancé ripped open the paper, a smile twitching on her lips. 

“Oh, Christine!” Raoul exclaimed as he pulled a little ribbon-wrapped bundle from the box. The spicy-clean scent of peppermint filled the air. “Polkagris? Wherever did you find this?” He pulled a candy stick from the bundle, the glossy swirls of red and white glistening in the dressing room’s soft lamplight. “I haven’t had polkagris since we were children! I can’t believe you remembered how much I used to love them.” A smile beaming on his face, he tucked the candy back into the box and pulled her into an embrace. “Christine, you truly are the most thoughtful person I’ve ever known.”

“It’s just a little thing,” she replied, her cheeks glowing a warm rosy pink. “I remembered how you used to beg Papa for them, and I happened upon a candy shop run by a Swedish family.”

“Well, I’m afraid mine will seem rather uninspired compared to yours,” Raoul said, speaking up over the sound of rustling paper as he dug into the bag next to him, “but I do hope you’ll like it anyway. I’ve hardly been able to stand having to wait all week — I had to hide it away in a closet so I wouldn’t be tempted to give it to you early!” He placed a box on her lap and rubbed his hands together, nearly bouncing in his seat. 

The package was large and flat and covered in thick, heavy paper printed all over with shining silver arabesques, topped with an elaborately tied white satin bow. “It’s so beautifully wrapped, I almost don’t want to open it,” Christine said, trailing her fingers over the soft, shimmery ribbon before tugging it loose. Gingerly, she slid a nail around the edge to loosen the paper.

“You needn’t be so careful with it, I have plenty more of the stuff back at home. It’s all yours, if you like it so much,” Raoul laughed, his eyes lit up with anticipation.

“Good,” she smiled teasingly back at him. “Then I’ll expect you to wrap up everything you ever give me just like this from now on.” The paper fell away and she lifted the lid.

Layers of impossibly thin tissue paper covered the contents, and she peeled them back, one by one. 

On top was a fine linen handkerchief trimmed in lace, embellished with intricate embroidery. “It’s lovely Raoul!” Christine breathed, lifting it from the package and letting her fingers glide along the underside of the smooth fabric, all the while wondering vaguely if she’d ever stop feeling uncomfortable with such fine things. 

Raoul’s casual displays of wealth, though never snobbish, were evidence of the privilege he’d been raised with, so different from her early life of scraping by, of simple meals of bread and cheese and rough muslin against her skin. And even now, she was acutely aware of the gulf that lay between them. It was impossible not to, when she was occasionally mistaken for a shop girl while they strolled Le Bon Marché together, an experience he found much more amusing than she did. Even once they married and she went from Christine Daaé to Vicomtess de Chagny, she doubted she’d ever truly fit in amongst the fine ladies who’d been raised with finishing school and balls, who sat and enjoyed operas from velvet-lined boxes rather than performed them, sweating under the hot lights for a modest salary. And though Raoul was insistent that he loved her just as she was, that certainly didn’t seem to stop him from trying to outfit her like somebody else.

Unfolding the handkerchief which likely cost more than her entire dress, Christine spread it open to admire its details. “I’ve never seen such gorgeous lace!” she gushed. “And are these our—” 

“Yes, our initials!” Raoul finished triumphantly. 

Christine’s brow furrowed. “Actually…” She brought the handkerchief up to her eyes and squinted at the letters. Her heartbeat began to quicken. “It says R, and...” She blinked, but the letter stubbornly stayed the same. “And...V.” 

“What? Let me see!” Raoul’s hand shot out and yanked the handkerchief from her slack fingers. Turning it over and over, he examined every inch of it, shaking his head. “There must have been some mistake! Perhaps the girl at the shop heard me wrong — I suppose the letters do sound the same.” He looked up at her, eyes anxious and searching. “I’m so sorry, my love, I can’t believe I didn’t notice! I can have it remade right away.”

“Oh no, it’s fine,” she said, her lips forming the words automatically. A formless sense of unease was slithering its way into the back of her mind, but, with a firm shove, she pushed the feeling away; there was no reason to let a simple mistake ruin their first Christmas. “Really,” she insisted, arranging her lips into a smile that was only a little forced.

Beneath the next layer of paper, enclosed in its own small, shallow box, was a pile of silk, white as snow and with that same incomparable look, as though it were delicate enough to melt under her fingertips. This new luxury unfurled as she raised it up between them, the folds falling, forming the shape of...a pair of ladies’ drawers?

The breath escaped from her lungs in a sharp gasp. Heat flamed at the edge of her ears as she dragged her eyes up to where her fiancé sat, stock still.

A red flush was creeping up from under his collar. 

His voice wavered. “That— that’s not a shawl?” 

“No, Raoul,” she replied evenly, despite the queasy fluttering in her stomach. “It is not.”

“Are those…?” He dropped his gaze to the floor.

“Yes, they are.”

“I—” Raoul squirmed in his seat. The flush was working its way up his neck, spreading across his face, leaving beads of sweat in its wake.  “It was meant to be a shawl. I would have never—” His words fell away and he looked up at her with pleading eyes.

“I know you wouldn’t have,” said Christine quickly. She jammed the drawers back into their box and shoved it all to the side, eager to leave the subject behind. 

And it was true, she could not think of a less likely thing for him to give her. Their relationship had been quite chaste, almost to the point of frustration, with nothing more than sweet, sinless kisses, always broken off far too soon. He’d never given any indication that he so much as even thought about what lay under her skirts, let alone considered the subject enough to buy her such intimate garments. The mistake would almost be funny in its outlandishness, if it weren’t so mortifying — and such an unpleasant reminder of her most secret insecurity: the fear that though he undoubtedly seemed to love her, perhaps he did not desire her. That perhaps he held her up against those lovely ladies of high society he’d been pushed for years to accept, with their bosoms spilling from their silk dresses and their ample hips swaying beneath their skirts, and found nothing inspiring about her waiflike frame. 

But no, he was just being a gentleman, wasn’t he? He wasn’t like the other men of the aristocracy, who took mistresses and visited brothels — no, no, he would never. Raoul, that sweet, brave boy from the salt-kissed seaside was now a respectful and honorable man, and he loved her for herself, not her body. There was nothing wrong with that.

But of course this was the last thing she wanted to be thinking about right now; Christine shook her head to fling away the thought and refocused the entirety of her attention back on the box in her lap. 

“Oh, look! There’s still something left,” she said, infusing her tone with much more enthusiasm than she felt, and she lifted a red velvet pouch from where it lay, heavy, at the bottom of the box. 

Raoul sprang forward. “Actually, why don’t you just give that back to me,” he said, his voice tight and trembling, reaching to take it from her hands. “This has turned out horribly so far, and I—”

“Darling, please.” Christine pulled the object out of his reach. “Certainly one of the three will be as you intended. Your luck can’t be that bad,” she laughed, though in the pit of her stomach sat a sour, sick feeling.

Grasping the pouch in one hand, she reached in with the other and slowly began to pull out a thick pillar of ivory, sculpted and polished, heavy as a candlestick — but not shaped like any candlestick she’d ever seen. It was too irregularly formed, the contours somehow too carnal, and her cheeks were already inexplicably burning before she’d even finished withdrawing it from its velvet enclosure. 

It couldn’t be… 

She’d heard that such things existed, but she never—

Too late she realized she should stop — not that she was sure she could have — but her hand kept moving, pulling the thing free from its covering to stand tall and proud in her clenched fist, absurdly large and luridly detailed — each vein, each curve of ivory flesh on display as she held it high, an obscene trophy.

Not a sound could be heard in the room. Not even a breath — not from her, and not from Raoul, who was looking at her, slack-jawed, with complete and utter horror written in every line of his face.

A minute passed, and then time unfroze.

Gasping as though she’d surfaced from deep underwater, Christine’s fingers flew open, loosing their grip on the vile thing; it hit the carpet with a muffled thud. Then she was on her feet, groping blindly for her cloak and gloves.

Raoul didn’t move from his seat; pale and trembling, he sat staring at the now empty gift box. “I don’t understand...”

Christine rounded on him, hot tears pricking at her eyes. “You don’t understand?” That formless unease had now taken a sinister, serpentine form, snaking itself around her heart, which spasmed within its crushing coils. “What was all that, Raoul?”

“I don’t know! It doesn’t make any sense. I wrapped it myself — that wasn’t in there!” 

He stumbled to his feet, reaching for her hands; she pulled them away, pressing her clenched fists against her turning stomach. “What’s the explanation, then? Are you implying that the contents of the box were just magically replaced without you knowing?” 

“No of course not! I mean, I don’t think so…”

One desperate, near-hysterical sob wrenched itself from Christine’s throat, and she fell silent. The painful throbbing of her heart had ceased. That place within her chest was cooling, hardening until it was as cool and hard as the piece of ivory which lay on the carpet, that disgusting thing which forced her to admit the truth to herself, a truth she’d been trying to deny since the moment she saw those embroidered initials. 

How could she have been so stupid? This never could have worked out. He was highborn, she was practically a peasant. Perhaps he did love her, but likely it was a love born of nostalgia and pity, the love of a brother for his sister — and even if he had been willing to marry her, that kind of love isn’t the only kind men need. And perhaps...perhaps he really wasn’t different from other men, after all. 

Christine gathered her cloak and gloves into a bundle and shoved it under her arm. “Goodbye, Raoul,” she said with finality, and steeling herself, she turned her back on the man she thought she loved.

“Christine!” Raoul gripped her arm in a wide-eyed panic. “You can’t believe that I would ever give you such a thing!”

Shaking off his hand, she held her head high. “No, Raoul, I don’t believe you would.” She could not look at him, not if she wanted to hold onto the last scraps of her tattered pride. “Do you know what I believe?” Despite her best efforts, tears were beginning to leak from her eyes, making the words thick and strained. “I believe that gift was intended for another woman.”

“What?” he cried, nearly choking on the word. “No!” 

“The wrong initials,” she sobbed, no longer able to hold back the tide; bitter tears flowed freely down her cheeks. “I may be naive, but I’m not stupid, Raoul! Who is she? How long has this been going on?” Christine tugged the gold and diamond band off her finger. “Is she wearing one of these, too?” she demanded, brandishing the ring in his face.

“Christine…” Tears welled in Raoul’s beautiful blue eyes, but she would not be swayed by the obvious ploy meant to prey on her sympathy.

She flung the little piece of gold at him, and it bounced off his chest and fell to the floor with a pathetic clink. 

“I should have listened to Erik!” she cried, and slammed the door behind her.

*****

Erik was right. 

But then again, he usually was. 

It was never going to work out between Christine and the boy; affairs between the nobility and the bourgeois rarely do, she had to know that. Really, it would be a mercy for it to end sooner rather than later. It was inevitable. And hadn’t he tried to warn her?

Still, he pretended surprise when she showed up at his door, red-eyed and sniffling, her ring finger blessedly bare.

Wordlessly, he brought her inside, wrapped her in a blanket and sat her down by the fire, brought her hot tea and let her pour out her heart — along with a steady stream of tears. Eventually, she slept, and Erik carried her to her room, tucking her into the bed he’d readied for her. He brushed the curls away from her face, now so hot and raw from crying, but no less beautiful.

He hated to see her in such pain, but someday she would understand, and she would have to agree that it was for the best. Erik always knew what was best for her.

Just like he knew that idiot boy would never notice a few feet of missing wrapping paper. 

[a-simple-imagine]

Day 1 - The Great Candy Cane Disaster

synopsis: Malfoy gets you in trouble so you decide to get back at him but things go a little too far

pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!reader (if you squint)

Words: 2.6k+

A/n -  We’re kicking off the first day of my advent calendar with something centered around Draco Malfoy.

Warnings - Swearing

"They look ridiculous," Malfoy muses as you add the final ingredient to your forgetfulness potion.

"They look fine," You roll your eyes, utterly fed up with the boy. Sometimes you wished he'd simply keep his comments to himself. "I wanted to look festive but I have to wear my uniform so antlers were the next best thing."

"They look stupid," He repeats. You adjust the reindeer antlers that sit upon your head like a silent protest.

"Will you just try the potion please?"

"No, why don't you do it?" He bites back, you swear he's being difficult on purpose just to get under your skin. When it came to potions class, you often found yourself paired with Malfoy. On the odd occasions, he was relatively helpful but sometimes he was the exact opposite.

"I did most of the work so you have to try it." You risk pushing the potion cauldron a little, watching the liquid inside almost swish over the edge; that would be the last thing you need in Snape's class.

"I do hope that amongst all this arguing, you managed to finish your potion." Snape's dull voice ringed in your ear."

"Of course Professor," Malfoy recites as professor Snape approaches your table. "she was just about to test it out."

You want to protest but you know better. It's probably just land you in trouble, so you reluctantly pick up a glass vile "fine," and plunge it into the orange potion. You take the smallest of sips. "So, Uh... what were we talking about again?"

"Next time, you two should refrain from shouting across my classroom"

"Yes Professor," you both reply.

"Five points from Gryffindor."

"Wait why?" You question quickly, brows furrowed.

"Careful now, or I'll make it ten." You can hear Malfoy's little snicker beside you as you watch Snape walk away to inspect somebody else's work.

By the time lunch came around, you were utterly fed up with the day. Slumping down at the Gryffindor table, you let out a dramatic sigh suggesting you wanted someone to ask what was wrong. Nobody did. So you sigh again.

"I can't believe you lost us house points," Hermione scolds as if she hasn't done it before. It wasn't a big deal. "why can't you be more responsible."

"You try being partners with Malfoy," you grumble, as you take a couple of sandwiches and place them on your plate. "And besides, Snape was totally unfair."

"Honestly, everyone knows Snape favours Slytherin so you have to be more careful." Hermione was right about that. It was clear Snape favoured his own house and was especially harsh when it came to Gryffindors. Why he hated you so much was unclear but it was something you had come to terms with.

"Gosh it was only ten points, it's not the end of the world Hermione." You take a bite of your sandwich. "Enough about that- I need your help."

"With what?" She asks, bringing her goblet of juice to her lips.

"Learning the duplication spell? It never seems to work for me."

"Why?"

You simply shrug. "If I knew why, I wouldn't ask for help,"

"No- I mean why do you want help with it? You never normally want to study outside of class."

You'd laugh if it wasn't true. Studying, for the most part, wasn't your favourite thing to do and much like Ron, you tended to avoid it as much as possible. You were by no means a bad student, just not as good as Hermione for example. "You're always telling me I should get ahead of my studies and not leave everything to the last minute, Hermione, I'm just trying to be a good student."

For a moment, you think she's seen through your lie but she just smiles a little before pushing her plate to the middle of the table. "Fine. I have to head to the library and get a few books but I'll meet you in the common room later and we can go over it."

"Great," and with that Hermione leaves you with the boys to finish up lunch.

"So tell the truth then," Ron perks up, his mouth full of food.

"Huh?"

"We all know you're not suddenly a model student," he continues. "so why do you suddenly want help with a spell?"

"People can change, Ronald." Hermione always called him that.

"I don't believe that for a minute,"

"Ron's right," Harry agreed. "You once said you wouldn't be caught dead in the library. That doesn't sound like model student behaviour."

"Blasphemy," You state dramatically slapping your hand against the table.

Ron chuckles a little. "Tell us. We won't tell Hermione."

"Fine," You could trust them enough not to keep your secret; they'd proven that value before. "I want to enchant an object and give it to Malfoy."

"Hermione isn't going to like that you're using a spell to get back at Malfoy-" Ron warns with the most playful of smiles. "I can't wait to tell her."

"You just said you wouldn't," you huff, tossing a piece of bread in Ron's direction. "It's just a harmless prank."

"He's messing with you," Harry adds.

"Malfoy's leaving- I'll be right back," you jump up sharply. "Don't head back without me."

Charging over to the Slytherin table, you find Pansy just as she's finishing up. "Great, what do you want?"

"So volatile," you tease. "I need a favour."

"Ha! that's likely," Pansy Parkinson was not your friend. Everyone knew that. In fact, she actively chose to hate on you every moment she got. You liked to think it was just a complicated relationship with one of the biggest bullies in school.

"Can we... talk in private,"

Taking her arm, you drag her out of the great hall as she struggles in your grip. "What do you want?"

"A favour." You repeat. You need Pansy on board or your plan wouldn't work. You weren't close enough to Malfoy, nor did you have access to the Slytherin common room. Pansy did and she was not against breaking the rules.

"Tough luck," she spits, turning sharply on her heel but you reach out to grab her before she can leave.

"Please Pansy,"

"What's in it for me?"

Uh... you hadn't planned that far ahead. "My love and friendship?"

She chokes out a laugh. "Pass."

"Fine, I'll do whatever you want,"

"Whatever I want?" The was a degree of intrigue in her voice as she turned back around that made you worry about her upcoming demand.

"I mean... I'm not gonna like murder someone but you get the idea."

"Do all my Christmas break homework?"

"You can't be serious?" You got enough homework on an average day never mind during the holidays. It was like the professors deliberately didn't want you to have fun. "We've already been set like two essays and-"

"Take it or leave it," she interrupts, a malicious grin graced her beautiful features.

You groan loudly. You didn't really have much choice and she was holding all the cards here. "Fine- okay, I'll do al your homework."

"So, what do you want me to do then?" She wonders, pulling out of your grip.

"I need you to sneak me into the Slytherin common room."

"Is that all?" She raises a brow. "That's easy enough- When?"

"Couple days. I have to prepare first."

"Kay-" Without another word, Pansy turns on her heel and enters the great hall. Guess the conversation was over then. You may now be lumbered with way more homework than you cared to think about but at least she agreed. Heading back to the table, Ron is somehow still eating.

"What was that about?" Harry questions before you can even sit back down.

"Since when you and Parkinson friends?" Ron adds.

"We're not. I'm pretty sure she hates me." You shrug, finishing off your drink. "I needed her help but I had to wait until Malfoy wasn't around"

"Sounds like more effort than it's worth." Ron was more right then he would ever know.

"We should go. We have charms soon."

Classes were relatively easier towards the end of the year excluding any tests but the days still felt way too long. That evening you're sat on the floor beside the roaring reds and oranges of the fire. Hermione is sat across from you with a neat stack of papers and an array of books. Ron and Harry are chatting on the couch just within earshot.

"No offence, Hermione but why do I have to know the entire history of the spell to use it?"

"You wanted my help, didn't you?"

You sigh softly listening to her entire lecture with forged interest. When she's finally stopped telling you about the twins who created the spell, she placed a small leather-bound book on the floor between you; pulling out her wand. "Before you begin, you want to be sure of exactly how many copies you wish to make otherwise it can become uncontrollable," Hermione explains. "Only the caster can stop the uncontrollable duplication." Waving her wand she gently tapped the book. "Geminio." The book shook a little before splitting into two identical books side by side.

"And this spell works on anything?"

"To a degree. Keep in mind while they are identical, the other copy is considered worthless as after a while it'll start to degrade. So you give it a try,"

You pull out your wand and with a flick. "Geminio." Nothing happened. So you try again.

"juh-MIN-ee-oh," Hermione corrects your pronunciation slowly. "And don't flourish your wand so much. Just a smooth and simple flick," she readies her wand and flicks. "Geminio."

The book splits into another. Show off.

You flick your wand "Geminio." Again nothing happens.

"You're not very good at this," Ron teases from the side.

Hermione takes your wand hand in hers. "Let's try together, okay, ready?" You nod a little. Hermione guides your hand. "Geminio." You both say together and this time the book splits. You smile brightly.

"It worked!"

"Good job."

"Now I can put my plan in motion."

"What plan? I thought you just wanted help with your studies?"

"Oh- yes, that's what I meant." Her eyes narrow in and you offer an innocent smile. "Well, I'm off to bed- Good night."

It's a couple of days before you decide to finally get back at Malfoy. That time was mostly spent in classes and practising the spell. While everyone else is distracted having dinner, you follow Pansy through the halls of Hogwarts and down to the dungeons.

"So why are you doing this?" She asks but she doesn't sound too interested in an actual answer.

"Malfoy got me in trouble and I wish to share the Christmas spirit."

"By giving him... a candy cane?"

"Yeah," Your smile brightens. "Candy canes are the perfect Christmas treat. He has to be the one to touch it okay? No one else or it'll ruin it."

"Weird." She seems suspicious. "But fine. You're still doing all my homework."

"Yes. I know." You roll your eyes. Every time you've spoken to her in the past few days she's mentioned her homework. Stepping into the Slytherin common room felt weird; you don't know what you were expecting it to look like. You guess you just imagined them all to look the same but in different colours however, that was certainly not the case. It was... darker in here somewhat creepier.

"Then I'll make sure he's the one to get it."

"Promise?"

"Just leave before I call Snape."

"Alright, alright, Thanks for this."

Sneaking out the Slytherin common room, you head back to the great hall as if nothing had happened. Joining Harry, Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table.

"Where have you been?" Hermione quickly asks and your mind draws a blank.

"Huh- oh! I wasn't hungry but now I am- So what did I miss?"

"Nothing really," Harry shrugs.

"Hermione was lecturing us," Ron follows up.

"Sounds about right," you chuckle.

It's hard to pay attention as you wait for Malfoy to finish his dinner. Staring intensely at the Slytherin table; only catching bits and pieces of the conversation happening around you. When you notice Malfoy leaving, you sit up a little straighter.

"What are you looking at?" Hermione clicks before your eyes, drawing your attention back.

"...nothing,"

"Do you fancy Malfoy or something?"

"What?" You turn to her, completely shocked and sort of offended. You and Malfoy would be a... weird combination to say the least. "No. Don't be silly."

"You have been staring at him since sitting down," Ron adds, a smirk on his lips. He knew exactly why you were distracted so his comment was just to rile you up.

"I don't fancy him- shut up." You growl back. "I'm heading back to the common room."

"I think I'll come too," Hermione stated, clearing up the almost none existent mess she had made. LI wanna do a little reading before bed."

You offer a small smile. If you say no, she'll be suspicious so you kind of just have to go along with it. Harry and Ron end up joining you. The halls are pretty empty as the four of you head back, it was still pretty early to be fair. You're idly chatting away to Hermione when you hear your name echo through the hallway. While taking note of it, you choose to ignore it and continue walking but then it happens again. Louder this time. You grab Hermione and Ron, by the wrists and pull them a little faster. "Hurry up,"

"What why?" Hermione protests pulling out of your grip.

"Because."

"Stop!" You know the voice belongs to Malfoy; it's hard to miss. When you finally turn around to look, you see him charging towards you looking very angry. "What can I do for you Malfoy?" You ask innocently, putting on your best smile but he doesn't stop. You back up until you're against a wall and he is standing before you. It doesn't seem like the time but still, you reach up and pull a candy cane that seems to be stuck to his best. "Didn't know you liked candy canes so much. Saving this one for later were we?"

He doesn't see the funny side. "I know it was you,"

"I don't know what you're talking about,"

"Leave her alone, Malfoy." Hermione defends, walking up behind him.

"Yeah shove off," Ron growls.

"You're not funny," the Slytherin snaps, taking a step back and taking your wrist. "You either come with me or I tell Snape that you filled the room with candy canes."

"How could I do that? I can't even get in the Slytherin common room."

"Your name was on the card."

"Is that why you wanted to learn the Geminio charm?" Busted.

"I used the Geminio spell on a candy cane so when Malfoy picked it up, they would start multiplying." You admit.

"We can't get it to stop."

"How is that my problem," you protest as he tries to drag you along with him.

"Did you remember to set an amount?"

"Uh... I knew I forgot something."

As much as you struggle you do end up going with Draco. He doesn’t say anything the entire way but his grip suggests that he's still very angry and as the door opens and some candy canes spill out, you realise you may have gone a little too far. You had originally expected a hundred copies or so but this was way more and they didn't seem to be stopping as they spilt out onto the corridor.

"Well... Shit. Probably should have brought Hermione with us."

[shipmistress9]

Sex Toy Advent Calendar: Day 6: Purple U-shaped Vibe

Fandom: HTTYD

Rating: E

Pairing: Hiccup/Astrid

Words: 3130

Summary: Day 6 of the Sex Toy Advent Calendar. Today's toy makes up for any previous disappointment. And leaves Hiccup and Astrid eager for further explorations.

AN: I ran a bit into a wall with this one. At some point, I had to delete half of what I'd written for this chapter because it wasn't working, and then RL became pretty tough. Ah, well. At least it's finished now. And in the meantime, I had a lot of fun making notes for the future parts of this series. ^^

. o O o .

Today, it was Hiccup’s turn to be thrumming with anticipation as he and Astrid went to open today’s box. After yesterday's disappointment —though everything had turned out more than bearable in the end—her excitement had noticeably dampened. It wasn’t that she wasn’t looking forward to seeing what was in today’s box, but more that she'd lowered her expectations. Which was a shame, really. 

Hiccup didn’t know for sure which gift they got today. But he'd seen a rough overview of which toys would be in this calendar when he’d bought it, and… Well, the fact that there were two black boxes with the golden letters saying ‘six’ was giving away a lot, especially with the additional information printed on the smaller one in his hand. 

“So, what does it say there?” Astrid asked, eyeing the tiny box skeptically. 

“It says that we can use this charging cable for the boxes 6, 12, and 24,” he said smugly. Then he nodded at the other, slightly bigger box in her hands. “Don't you want to take a look?”

Astrid's mouth had turned into a perfect O, her eyes now alight with new excitement. The sight made Hiccup smile. She was so beautiful like this. With quick eager motions, she tore the box open and held up its content. 

“Okay, and what is this?”

“Well, it’s not a cock ring,” he replied in a light, teasing tone. 

Astrid regarded him with a flat stare.

Chuckling, Hiccup took the purple u-shaped device out of her hands. “It’s a vibrator, obviously. If I remember correctly, it’s called Double Joy. A fitting name, because, well, both sides have their use.” He pointed at the differing ‘arms’ of the U. “The thinner side here is meant to go inside you, while the thicker side with the flared and flattened shape here is supposed to cover your clit. Both sides vibrate, individually if you want. Also, the bit that goes inside you is so narrow that I should easily fit in as well. That way, we can both feel the vibrations and also each other, and your clit gets attention, too.”

Astrid’s lips twitched in amusement as she glanced at him. “Someone’s done his homework, as it seems,” she teased. Then her attention returned to the vibrator. “But I admit, this sounds interesting. Should we try it right away?”

Chuckling, Hiccup shook his head. He wasn’t surprised at her eagerness, not at all. It was Sunday, so they both were off work today and had the entire day for themselves. And, well, she was Astrid. 

But sadly, they would have to wait. “Remember this?” He held up the other box, the charging cable. “It has a build-in batterie and needs to charge first. Besides, there’s something else this thing can do, and I think you’re going to want and explore this option before we get started.” 

“Who says we can only use it once?” she asked, attempting to look innocent and failing spectacularly. “But okay, the charging is a valid argument. So let's get this connected, and then you can tell me aaaaaall about its other features.”

. o O o .

Astrid’s eyes were gleaming as she went through the app’s options. She was thrilled, just like Hiccup had expected. 

“Okay, this alone is worth getting this calender,” she proclaimed after a few minutes. “I can control both sides of the vibrator individually, right here in the app. Strength and rhythm, and…” she paused, her eyes growing wide. “Oooohh. I can even connect it to a playlist and it pulses along with the music?” She smirked at him. “We’re definitely going to try this!”

Having expected nothing else, Hiccup nodded, and then leaned in to show her another feature. “Then I hope you have a fitting playlist saved. Anyway, see this here? It’s a partner feature.”

She squinted at her display. “Okay? And what does it do?”

“Once paired with your phone, only you can control the vibrator. For safety. However, you can decide to temporarily give this control over to another specific app user. For example, we could go out with you wearing it, but I control it. It’s apparently extra silent, so nobody at a restaurant or at the cinema would hear it. Well, unless your moans grow too loud.” He threw her a cheeky smirk, but had to bite back a laugh at the dazed look on her face. Oh, she liked that idea, didn’t she? 

Hiccup felt smug, having found this toy and within the fun context of this calendar, no less. She’d voiced interest in such a toy every now and then, and he was sure that it would see plenty of use. 

Intent on teasing her further, he stepped behind her, hands on her hips and letting her feel how thinking about the possibilities didn’t leave him unaffected either. “You could also take it with you when you have to go on a business trip again,” he murmured against her neck. “And then you could allow me control over it when we video chat before going to sleep. I could make you come and watch you, even without being there.”

Astrid moan, and a shiver ran through her body. She leaned into him, her cute butt pressing at his growing erection. “That sounds intriguing,” she murmured.

“Or you could wear it when you go to work,” he went on, voice low and rough now. “I wouldn’t know what you’re doing or how aroused you already are, but I could keep playing with the control the entire day through. I wonder what your annoying co-worker would say if you interrupt another one of her self-praises with an orgasm.”

Astrid nearly choked on breathy laughter, the image no doubt appealing to her. “Mmm, we should definitely keep that option in mind. How much longer until that thing is charged and ready for use?”

“Another hour, I fear,” he said after glancing at his watch. He wished he could give her a more satisfying answer, but that was the instruction he’d read up in advance. By now, he was pitching a full tent in his loose lounging bottoms. But they could bridge an hour by doing something else… right? 

It was a long hour. Astrid played some more with her new app, arranging playlists or something, while Hiccup made a food plan for the week to determine which ingredients he would have to get. Although he’d have to double-check it later with how… distracted he was. 

Every few minutes, Astrid’s eyes flicked toward the clock hanging over their TV, and every time, she gave an impatient sigh. It made Hiccup grin, her eagerness and curiosity so wonderfully blatant and so cute. Not that he wasn’t interested in seeing what this toy could do, but there was just something so refreshing and endearing about watching her that he was almost sad when the waiting was over. But only almost. 

When the hour was over—Astrid apparently had even set an alarm—she jumped up and all but ran toward their bedroom. Hiccup followed her, chuckling, and found her kneeling on the bed. She held the vibe in her one hand and her phone in the other, and let out a victorious “Ha!” the moment he sat down next to her. 

“It’s working?” He crawled behind her onto the bed, stabilising himself with his hands on her waist as he looked over her shoulder.

“Looks like it, yes.” She tapped a few buttons on her phone, and the vibrator buzzed to life. “Excellent!”

“And what’s your plan now?” he asked, a little bemused as she turned it off again and shifted until she lay on her back. “What do you want to try with it?” 

She smirked. “Oh, you’ll see.” 

With one swift motion, she pushed her bottoms and underwear down, giving him an unimpeded view of her lower half, and brought the toy down to her entrance. Hiccup’s breath caught in his throat as he watched it slip inside her, easily, as if it belonged there. It really was proof of how aroused and eager she was that even after an hour of waiting she was wet enough to not need the tiniest bit of foreplay or lube. 

To his slight disappointment, though, she then pulled her clothes up again and reached for her phone. A moment later, a low tune sounded through the room and Astrid’s eyes fluttered shut with a soft moan. The vibrator was indeed surprisingly quiet, Hiccup could only hear it because he was listening for it and there were no other noises around them, anyway. With his heart beating a little faster, he let out a low grunt as he watched her, clearly luxuriating in the invisible stimulation. She was so beautiful like this. 

She held her hand out toward him, reaching for him. “Come here,” she purred.

Hiccup obliged happily, covering her with his body as she pulled him into a deep kiss. Her hips moved in time with the music coming from her phone, grinding herself against his thigh and making her mewl. 

Oh, this was hotter than he’d expected. He could probably continue just like this, lazily making out, kissing her with one hand slowly combing through her hair, and she’d still come sooner rather than later. But tempted as he was—they had the entire day free, after all, and nothing was stopping them from just spending countless hours in bed—he still wanted to do a little more, go a little further. 

He sat up, much to her complaint, and removed his shirt with one quick motion, then leaned down to resume kissing her. Astrid hummed happily as his hand splayed over her breast, squeezing her through her thin vest before it slipped beneath the fabric to peel it off her. She wriggled to help him, but instead nearly arched off the bed when the music switched to a quicker part for a short while and the toy apparently followed along. 

“F-fuck!” she cursed, eyes out of focus as she gazed past him at the ceiling. Her fingers were digging into his arms, her hips moving in search of that elusive stimulation. “This… this is…”

“Oh, this is going to be fun,” Hiccup mused idly, mouthing at her ear. “I think I love this toy already.” 

Astrid didn’t reply and just moaned weakly as he moved down her body and pulled aside the cups of her bra with his teeth. Her nipples were sensitive already and quickly hardened beneath his tongue, so much fun to play with. 

He kept it light for now, merely teasing her. But with half an ear, he listened to the music, and right before he knew another quicker part would come, his lips closed around the hard bud and he sucked, harshly. It made her mewl with longing, and when the music and vibrations grew stronger again, Astrid cried out, limps shaking and hands tightening into fists in his hair. 

Three times he repeated this pattern until she came undone beneath him with a beautiful scream. Her entire body spasmed as waves of pleasure crashed through her, her eyes rolling back into her head. It was a memorable sight, one Hiccup wished he could capture in a drawing later on. She was so utterly beautiful when in the throes of pleasure, so irresistible, so alluring. Just watching her made him feel as if he was about to come himself.

When it was over, she almost desperation reached out, whimpering, and her arm wandered around on the bedcovers as if she was searching for something. It took Hiccup a second to cotton on, still mesmerised by her sight. But then he understood, grabbed her phone lying next to her head, and turned the music off. The low buzzing stopped as well and a moment later, Astrid fell back onto the bed, blissful and relaxed.

“Oh, wow,” she gasped, her head lolling to the sight and with a huge grin on her face. “Okay, this baby alone was worth everything. That was awesome!” 

Chuckling, Hiccup sat up and took in more of her sight. Not even halfway undressed but with her hair sticking to her sweaty forehead and neck, she looked the picture of debauchery. 

“I’m glad to hear that. So I guess the hour of waiting wasn’t that unbearable, retrospectively?”

She let out a shaky laugh. “I’d say it was even more unbearable now that I know what I was missing out on. But just for the records. When I take this baby with me to work, promise me you won’t use the highest setting. I don’t want to fall off my chair when my body just stops responding.”

Hiccup laughed. The image was certainly intriguing, but he’d also noticed something else. She’d said when and not if. Somehow, that didn’t even surprise him. 

What did surprise him though was when Astrid suddenly reached up and pulled him into a blistering kiss. He’d thought that with the apparent intensity of her orgasm just now, she needed a slight break at least. But, obviously, he’d been wrong. Once, he was close enough again, her hands were all over him, roaming over his skin in a show of very obvious eagerness. 

Not one to complain, Hiccup let her guide him, getting rid of her shirt and bra, and enjoyed the sensation of hot skin against his own. Her hands on his back, her legs entangled with his own, her hips grinding against him, slow but insistent. 

“You’re sure you don’t need a break?” Even with how eager she was, he still had to ask, to make sure. “You’re not too sensitive?” 

She chuckled, breathy. “Actually, I am. Just a little, though. But no, I don’t need a break. Don’t want one. I want more.”

Groaning at her needy tone, Hiccup didn’t resist when she pushed his bottoms down and reached for his cock. After her lewd display, he was already hard, the touch of her hand more than welcome on his heated flesh. She stroked him slowly, her eyes drinking in his reaction, and he had to fight not to thrust into her grip in his eagerness. 

Getting rid of her remaining clothes was merely a formality, and before long, she guided his cock to slip inside her along with the toy. Even with how slim this part of the vibrator was, it was a noticeably tighter fit than usual, and at first, they struggled to find the right angle. Once inside though, Hiccup sighed as her silken heat surrounded him. She was so hot, so tight, and just so… so… Astrid!

She was biting her lip when he glanced down at her, her eyes pressed shut and brows furrowed. 

“Are you okay?” His voice was rough with desire, but her well-being was more important. 

Letting out a keening noise, low and needy, Astrid nodded. “I am. Just intense. But good.” 

To give her time to adjust, Hiccup leaned down, supporting his weight on his elbows, and breathed hot openmouthed kisses onto her jaw, down her neck, to her shoulders. It had the desired effect, distracting her and making her giggle. Then she pushed lightly against his chest with her flat hand, and Hiccup pushed himself up again, watching her curiously as she reached for her phone again. 

“Slowly at first, okay?”

Hiccup nodded and was about to say something in response when the vibrations set in. Instead, he just let out a weak groan, his eyes falling shut at the unfamiliar sensation. 

Oh, that felt good!

The toy wasn’t long enough to reach all the way along his cock, but that wasn’t much of an issue. As he slowly pulled out and pushed in again, he found that the toy covered him well enough, and the vibrations were enough to send an additional thrill through his body, anyway. 

And the music… Astrid had picked a calm piece, beautiful, and it was easy to fall into the slow rhythm. It was almost like a dance, in a way. Not that he would call himself a skilled or anything but awkward dancer, but this was different. Easy. Letting the music set the pace for their movements, he enjoyed how it gave him time to indulge in their closeness, their intimacy. Exploring every part of her he could reach with his nose and mouth alone was something he so rarely got the chance to. 

After a while, the music changed, the beat becoming a little faster. It was a natural development to follow, Astrid meeting his thrusts perfectly, and her endless string of moans and breathless sobs as the vibrations grew stronger was a beautiful addition to the familiar melody. 

Hiccup was entirely lost in it all, watching, listening, feeling. The music grew faster, the vibrations stronger, his thrusts harder. On and on it went, a crescendo of sensations. 

Beneath him, Astrid was teetering on the edge of another orgasm, her fingernails digging deeply into his arms. It was pure perfection, and when the music reached its climax, the same was true for them as well. 

It was intense; Astrid screamed with no restraints, and Hiccup muffled his howl against her sweaty neck. Her clenching muscles were like a velvet device of pleasure around his thrumming cock, and the vibrations fuelled his orgasm even further. His hips seemed to move on their own, his thrusts carrying them through to the end even as his cum made her insides slick and slippery. 

“Oh, f-fuck,” he groaned weakly as he nearly collapsed on top of her. He managed to roll to the side instead, forehead pressed against her shoulder, but he kept his arm slung across her chest in a loose embrace. After this, she would need the closeness just as much as he did. 

Astrid fumbled with her phone and then cuddled closer to him once the music—and the vibrations—had stopped. “Yeah, that’s an accurate summary,” she sighed, giggling. She snuggled closer, blindly reaching for a blanket to ward off the cool air. They were both in desperate need of a shower, but that could wait for later. “I don’t know what else we’re going to find in this calendar, but I dare say this toy is one of my top favourites.”

Hiccup let out a tired laugh. He’d hoped for this to be a good one, but the reality was still so much better than his imagination. 

“And you know what’s the best part of it?”

Too exhausted for many words, he just hummed weakly for her to continue. 

She shifted until her lips reached his, and he thought he could feel her smirk as she kissed him. 

“The best part is that we still have the entire day to keep enjoying this toy.”

. o O o .

AN: I bet neither of them will be able to walk anymore around noon at the latest. xD

* - . - * - . o O o . - * - . - *

If you want to support me you can buy me a coffee. I love coffee 😊 (Ko-Fi)

[peachyteabuck]

study buddy, part v

series summary: after crushing on you since freshman orientation, Natasha finally gets the guts to ask you help you pass her postmodern lit midterm, to which you agree.

chapter summary: one restaurant date, two confessions, and three grades that will make or break natasha’s degree

pairing: natasha romanoff x reader

words: 4,881

trigger warnings: overstimulation, use of a safe word, teeth rotting fluff, strap on sex, ball gags, explicit conversations about whorephobia, orgasm control, angst if you squint

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

part one, part two, part three, part four

The warmth of the sun filtered through blinds is what woke you, wrapped tight in Natasha’s arms. The sex-stained blankets were as messy as can be, some of them hugged your intertwined bodies like a tightly wrapped burrito while others were nearly falling off the bed.

It was messy, beautifully and wonderfully so. If you felt the need to move (which, of course you didn’t because who in their right mind would try to disentangle themselves from such a lovely human person) you doubt you could’ve; Natasha held you with arms too strong and heart beat too soft. You wouldn’t dare disturb her if the house was on fire; then again, if the world was burning down around you – you’d rather die in her arms than reach for uncertain safety. It’s there that you fell back into sleep, tucked under her chin and running your fingers through her hair.

Eventually the growling of your stomachs woke the both of you up, each respective organ desperate for nourishment – and the two hard-boiled eggs, sour gummy worms, gluten-free bread, and half a container of mustard wasn’t gonna cut it. The waning sun was an ominous sign of how long you’d truly gone without food, and you soon didn’t feel all that bad about poking your poor g-

Poking poor Natasha awake.

You didn’t feel all that bad poking Natasha awake as your insides beg for sustenance and your head feels light and holy shit, if you didn’t eat right then you were going to start taking bites out of her – and, for the first time, not in a fun and/or sexy way.

“Hey,” you pressed your forefinger to her nose. “Nat.” You poked the end of each eyebrow, then at various locations of her forehead. “Natasha!” Still, she remained asleep, and buried herself further into the blankets as some unconscious act of survival. “Nat.” You poked her right cheek. “Naat.” You poked her left cheek. “Naaat.” You poked each cheek with each hand at its softest part, pushing until you felt her teeth.  “Nat wake uuup.”

She just grunted and pushed you away before she nuzzled back into the covers. “Go away. I want to die here. Let me become a body without organs.”

She paused.

“Or is it organs without bodies?”

You sighed but make no move to displace her. “One, Natasha, we have the midterm coming out soon. If you do not know the original work done by two far left authors from the sarcastic critique by another far left author, I’m breaking up with you. Two, that’s not what that means and you making a vague reference to some postmodern concept does not mean I am going to stop being annoying. Three, would you like to come get dinner with me?”

Natasha shot up, flame-red hair messy and shirt disheveled – it made her look like the top of of a thicket of trees during a forest fire. Along the side of her face, you could see indentations from where her skin was pressed to the pillowcase. “Food?”

You nodded, pushing the strands from her eyes. “Yes, darling, food.”

She wiped at her face and pushed the covers from her legs, eyes half-closed. “Food.”

You picked some of the crust from the corner of her eyes. She blinked indignantly at you but made no move to stop you. “Do you care where we go?”

Natasha shook her head left-to-right silently, then moved to wipe her face once more.

“Okay. There is a very good Chinese place that I want to show you. Is that okay with you?”

Natasha nodded and made a mmhmm noise.

“Cool.”

You kissed the tip of her nose before you got up and scrounged together a passable outfit that would cover the bruises that still littered your body and shield you from the cold. After a few moments, Natasha opened her eyes wide enough to see a few feet in front of her and did the same.

There was s a wonderful silence that filled the air, the comfortable kind. Like the day of that quiz, it’s a wonderful kind of cozy – soothing and sweet.

You could get used to this…

It was a short walk to the restaurant, one you were all-too familiar with due to your many, many nights there. It was the first place you ate at on campus (that wasn’t one of the mind-numbingly mediocre cafeterias) the day you moved in and it had become some pseudo-home, the place always warm and waitstaff always nice (and always willing to let you eat as much as you pay for and abuse their free WiFi).

The menu hadn’t changed much (by “much,” you mean they’ve fixed two of the five typos) since you first started going there, so you should have already known what you want. Still, you opened the folded, laminated paper and read each item with genuine interest, just as Natasha did.

You looked up at her once and awhile just to see her again. Every time you tried to keep her out of your line or sight for more than a few seconds you’d almost burst at the seams, like a sunburst than could only be quelled by looking at her.

“What year are you?” Natasha asked, which broke your unbelievably tender train of thought.

Your brain, which was still very fried, did not compute. “What?”

She reached over to point to the Chinese zodiac calendar on your menu with one of many of her fingers that was inside you last night. “What year are you?”

You mumbled something and shrugged, fake-intense-reading as your neurons attempted to rebuild your capacity for speech. Luckily, Natasha seemed determined to continue the conversation.

“I’m the year of the dog,” she said, nonchalant, as if you were not losing your goddamn mind on the other side of the table. Your brain was fried, your mouth was gaping like a fish out of water, and were your hands shaking? What the fuck were you supposed to say? How should you respond?

Think, you fool! Think!

“There’s a feminist critical theorist who fucks her dog,” you blurted.

Natasha just smiled – god her smile was so big and wide and beautiful - and laughed. “Part of me thinks you’re lying, but part of me worries you’re telling the truth.”

You laughed then, too, smiling big as she did. It set the tone for the rest of the night, mood light and happy as the tired, probably-high waitress took your order and then brought you the food a suspiciously-short amount of time later. It was good, very good.

“And my mom turns to me and she goes,” you wrinkled your noise in an effort to properly invoke your mother’s nasally tone. “This family does not get Fs or Ds or Cs. You better fix this or else.”

Natasha almost choked on her soft drink at your impression. “You were supposed to make an omelet for a foods and nutrition class, what did she want you to do!?”

You took another bite of orange chicken before you rolled your eyes and shrugged. “I have no idea what that woman wants from me now, let alone when I was fuckin’ fourteen.”

You were both laughing as you took food from each other’s plates and swapped small stories. Natasha told you about her own coding mishaps (apparently it was easy to hack into news websites and create fake stories involving certain celebrities and a certain large bird and many, if not too many, phallic objects), you told her about the time you stress-cried in the bathroom so much the janitor kept tissues in a secret compartment for you.

One hand from each of you remained occupied as you held hands on the side of the table farthest from the prying eyes of fellow college students (as if any of them were sober enough to notice, though. Along with being great to you, the restaurant’s very greasy menu meant it was a good spot to quench munchies or quell the pain of an especially bad hangover).

A phone – your phone, you realized – vibrated obnoxiously on the other side of the table. Previously forgotten, you broke from the moment to reengage with the (seemingly) hundreds of people who were attempting reach you via text. At first you thought it’s an email from a client – but then you realized it was a text from a classmate. Specifically, the girl who sat front and center in the lecture hall you and Natasha shared.

“Who’s that?” Natasha asked.

You furrowed your brows as you texted, swallowing the last bit of food. “Oh, Lindsay from our class. She wants to know what I got on the quiz.”

Natasha then realized she never bothered to figure out her grade, and it brought all her anxiety about graduating on time and also making sure you’d never leave her and oh my god what if she failed this fucking quiz?

A few moments of soul-crushing silence passed before you put your phone back down. Natasha watched you like a cat stalking a fake mouse on a string, or a drunk mom at a Christmas party eyeing a dessert table; the drive was genuine, but the goal? Ridiculous. Absolutely, totally ridiculous.

You didn’t press her like she expected, though, didn’t even stare at her with that evil eye Natasha’s sure you got from your mother on more than one occasion. You just went back to eating your food, and put your phone back out of reach.

You noticed her staring at you when you went to borrow (steal) another piece of food from her plate.

“What?”

Natasha furrowed her brow. “Don’t you…Don’t you want to know what I got on the quiz?”

You shook your head as you stole another few bites worth of food. “Not unless you want to tell me.” You shrugged as you swallowed. “I’m not gonna, like, push you if you don’t want to tell me. I’m not my mother.”

Natasha smiled at that and left the conversation there. She was unnaturally quiet for the new few minutes as she listened intently while you told more stories and commented on the food and thought out loud about school and the rest of your life and should you go shopping soon?

Throughout all of it, Natasha remained incommunicative – to the point you started to worry.

“Are you okay?” you asked and reached across the table to put your hand over hers. She smiled, softly, before she replied.

“I really care about you, you know,” she said, low and almost inaudible. You said nothing in return. “And I’m very bad at this. I’m so bad at this. I spent a lot of my childhood in rooms with therapists who said less than I did. I’m not good at,” she waved her hands as she tried to find the right words. “I’m not great at emotions. And expressing them and telling people about them and all that shit. Okay?”

You swallowed the last tastes of duck sauce that coated your back teeth. Despite the sweet substance being a liquid, it felt like a waterfall of boulders cascading inside your throat. “Nat, I-“

“This isn’t me saying I love you, but I want…” Natasha was on the verge of crying, just as you were. She averted your gaze as she continues, staring at the booth cushion directly behind you. “I want to commit to you in some way. I like you, I like the person I am when I’m around you. And I don’t want to lose you because I was too much of a pussy to make a move.”

You said nothing, did nothing. Despite her not looking at you, you stared at her very serious facial expression and watched every muscle twitch for some signs of lying. You saw none.

“I…,” Natasha met your eyes as you spoke. Your mouth was so dry you nearly coughed – but the idea of making any sound terrified you. “I…I need some air.”

You didn’t wait for a reply as you pushed yourself out of the booth and ran out the front entrance.

Natasha didn’t wait for the door to close behind you before she chased after you. She left both of your phones and wallet at the booth, not wanting you to get out of eyeshot but also terrified of the waitstaff thinking the both of you were dine-and-dashers (and terrible ones, at that).

She followed you outside, ache in her heart an excellent distraction from the nighttime chill that dug tiny knives into her pale skin. Still, as her breath was visible in a faint fog in front her, no pain was as unimaginable as the one as losing you.

“Babe, plea-“  began, voice small and nonthreatening as possible.

You interrupted her and avoided looking into her eyes and picked at a loose thread in the sweater you were wearing – Natasha’s sweater you were wearing.

You worried it was the last time you’d ever see her again, and yet you refused to look at her. You refuse dto look at her large eyes and the bags under them, at her nimble hands – thin and agile from years of typing; at her plush lips or beautiful hair or-

Wasn’t that the cruelest irony of all? Of the cognitive dissonant fear of missing something while desperately avoiding looking at it. Still, you chose to jump off the proverbial cliff with your eyes clenched shut and nails digging into the pads of your soft palms and blood rushing in your ears louder than anything you’d ever heard in your life.

“I’m a sex worker.”

Natasha’s eyebrows furrowed and she breathed heavily, like when your mom got mad at you for bringing home that C your freshman year. “There’s-“

“I’m a sex worker. I make my own porn. I sell my nudes. It’s my main,” you sighed. “It’s my only source of income. It’s how I make money. It is how I will continue to make money. It’s how I stay mostly-independent from my very judgmental mother. It’s how I plan on staying mostly-independent from my very judgmental mother and my very judgmental family and the very judgmental world. And if you think that’s morally wrong of whatever, or that I’m some sort of sub-human, or that I’m evil, or that I should stop…”

For the first time that night, you looked her straight in the eyes. No smiling, no laughing, no wishing to see her beautiful face. Power. Authority. Truth. You tried to channel the red you saw on all those feminist theory books you’d had to read for the class that brought you and Natasha together.

“If you don’t believe in the validity of my labor I cannot and will not date you,” you were snarling as you stomped toward her until your toes nearly touched. “I’m not going to let someone who can’t love what I do love me.”

As you stood there, teeth bared and hands balled into fists, stories of rage flashed like lightning in your brain. Narratives of horror from your media studies class, of actresses whose only chance to scream was in front of a camera. If you had sharper nails, sharper teeth, glowing eyes that would be some award-winning monologue where people clap and call it “mind-blowing” and give it “five out of five stars.” You’d be a prime example of how satisfying rage can be as a subversive practice.

But no. You were no antihero(ine), no supernatural being caught on tape. You were not on the silver screen, you were not being streamed on some overpriced platform, you were not the subject of dissertations on media studies or really good articles on feminism or whatever else academics were doing with their time in tenure. You had filed-down nails and wide eyes and soft skin and an uneasy stomach and shaking hands and breath that faintly showed in the air when you exhaled. You had tears that threatened to fall. You had fear.

Natasha’s eyes flitted nervously, her lip between her teeth. For a moment, neither of you said anything.

Natasha was the one to speak first. Her voice sounded as terrified as you felt – with words that were spat through a set jaw and teeth bared.

“Who hurt you?”

You took a half-step back, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What? Natasha, what the fuck are y-“

“Who hurt you?” she whispered, words like knives and eyes just as dangerous. You stepped back, almost scared of her and what she could do to you.

You were pressed against the side of the building then – you could feel the brick and mortar itching at the skin of your back through your top. “Natasha what the hell are you talking about? I don’t kn-“

“Yes,” she stepped back, but grasped at your left hand as she did so. She was a ship tethering to a dock, floating out on the water but always willing to come back to port. “Yes, you do. You know exactly who, what, I’m talking about. What they did. Just tell me who they are, and I’ll ruin their lives.”

You looked for the joke, the punchline. You looked for a glint in her eye that said she was fucking with you and was waiting for you to laugh it off. When you were in seventh grade you got asked out as a joke and the football player made the exact same facial expression you now hunt for.

But you found nothing, no teasing or set up in a larger scheme to mock you. She was serious as you’d ever seen anyone be. “What in the fuck-“

“Tell me who they are. Tell me the name of every person who ever made you feel like shit and I’ll ruin their lives. I’ll steal their identity. I’ll make it so they can never get a job, or a car, or a house again. I’ll do it in a heartbeat,” Natasha let go of your hand and held your face in her food-warm palms. “I will destroy the very existence of every person who ever made you feel like this, because you deserve someone who will protect you from all that bullshit. And I want to be that person.”

The silence was painful, almost. But also comforting. Still, you broke it so speak. “Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Natasha smiled, and pecked your lips. “Good. Now come finish my food with me, it’s getting cold and our waitress is definitely judging us.”

You broke into a fit of laughter, nearly wheezing as she guided you back inside. The food was good, even though it had cooled considerably while you were both outside – greasy and thick with flavor and hot in your mouth along with your soul and Natasha held your hand on the table and fed you with her fork and you stole bits of her food while she was distracted. At one point, Lizzo played on the restaurant soundtrack and Natasha sung low with you, and you ordered more food to take home and it was hot, too hot in your hands as you carried the large brown paper bag soaked with grease to her apartment. Maybe you were going eat the food in the morning, maybe you were going eat it later tonight. It, truly, did not really matter.

There wasn’t much time between when you put the leftovers in the fridge and when Natasha pushed you onto your knees in her (and your) (it was now shared) bedroom. There also wasn’t much time between when your knees hit the ground and when Natasha grabbed the ball gag from its place in her toy drawer.

“I’m so happy you’re mine,” Natasha cooed as she adjusted the matte black straps. She kissed at your temples when it was secured, murmuring sweet words into the top of your hairline. If there was anyone else watching you, if there were some voyeur witnessing this profession of ownership, you doubt they could hear her. The entire world could be gazing at the two of you under a microscope and they would know nothing. Wasn’t it something wonderful, to share such, dare you say it, love that cannot, will not be observed by a single being outside your pairing? “Such a pretty little thing, a beautiful little toy for me.”

You didn’t dare move, worried even a flinch would disappoint her. Even as spit began to fall down your chin and between your breasts, as it pools in the gap between your legs, you successfully resist the urge to wipe it away. Natasha walks to the end of the bed, perching herself on the covers. The silence isn’t thick or uncomfortable, rather something closer to electric, something you can feel on the insides of your nose as you sniffled.  

Slowly, she raised her right hand and crooked her first finger. You understood immediately and you got on your hands and knees to crawl across the room to her. When you reached the end of the bed you waited, obediently, for her.

Like at the restaurant – you were nearly bursting out of your skin with excitement as you awaited instruction.  

“You’re so pretty, baby,” she cooed. “Now come up on the bed and let me wreck that pussy.”

You do as you’re told without hesitation, scrambling to get on the bed and onto your back. Natasha grabbed a bottle of lube out of seemingly nowhere and poured it over the same strap from the first time she fucked you.

You moaned deeply and reached for something, anything; you whined high in your throat as she pounded into you, the bed smacking against the stained wall with each thrust.

“You’re too pretty for your own good, you know,” her voice was breathless as she spoke. “Normally I would try to keep my toys intact, try to keep them in good condition, but I just can’t seem to help myself around you.”

With each word your back arched farther, your fingers tightened around the sheets.

“F-fuck,” you moaned around the thick plastic sphere in your mouth as you tried to push your back closer to Natasha’s chest.

She grabbed your hair and bit at the curve of your ear before she spoke in a low voice that sent another wave a slick down your inner thighs. “What do you belong to?” she hisses. “Who does this pussy,” she slapped your cunt and you cried out at the stinging pain. “belong to?”

You didn’t hesitate. “You Mommy, I belong to you!”

In that moment, you wondered whether Natasha’s neighbors could hear your screams. But in the one right after, you realized you really, truly, di not give a single flying fuck what they could hear.

“Fuck yes, you’re mine,” she growled as she pressed your face into the sheets, as she loomed over you like a god would punish some human exercising an unholy level of hubris. “Don’t you fucking forget it.”

You couldn’t speak because of the ball gag – didn’t even try to – yet Natasha seemed to know exactly what you wanted to say.

“You wanna cum, love?” she cooed, still fucking into you. “You wanna cum over Mommy’s cock?”

You nodded, the whines high in your throat resembed something close to a please yes please Mommy please I wanna cum I wanna cum I wanna cum.

Just like the lube, Natasha grabbed the hitachi out of thin air before she turned it on low and pressed it to your neglected clit. It was something, it was enough, but only just so. Your muscle tensed and you wailed out as you bucked your hips, as you tried to fuck yourself harder onto the toy. Natasha notices and slows her thrusts, laughing as you become more and more desperate.

“You’re so pathetic,” she hissed. “Such a pathetic little toy. You’ll do anything to cum, won’t you?”

You nodded; words garbled.

Natasha laughed again. “Of course you would, slut. You’d do anything for me, right? You’d do anything I told you to? You’re just a mindless little toy for me, just a dumb little thing with no thoughts besides how you can please me…”

You were drooling around your gag so much it covered your cheeks and pooled on each side.

You’re blissed out, eyes glazed over and body wonderfully lax. Natasha’s isn’t done with you yet, though, because of course she isn’t. You’re now officially her girlfriend, officially hers, and maybe it’s that satisfaction or excitement or whatever in her blood but it it’s letting her stop, not now, not when you look so ethereal with a halo of sweaty hair and the sheets looking like wings and your skin practically glowing.

Not just any angel, her angel – her perfect little blessed creature, sanctified even as she degrades you in such a sacrilegious way.

“I want you to cum when I count to ten,” Natasha murmured as she pushed the sweaty hairs that had escaped their confines from your eyes. “Alright, baby?”

You nodded and tried to chase the fleeting feeling of her fingers as they dusted over your feverish skin.

She turned the Hitachi up a setting, smiling as it met your clit and you cried out.

“One,” she mumbled, rubbing the head against you in small circles. It was something, but certainly not enough.

“Two.”

Natasha knew this. She knew you didn’t orgasm all that easily.

“Three.”

Regardless, she agonizingly slowly turned the toy up a setting. Just as you feared, it remained insufficient.

“Four.”

God, nearly halfway there and you were terrified what would happen if you couldn’t cum. Part of it was exhilarating, but part of it gnawed a small hole in your stomach that left you…empty, somehow.

“Five.”

She ticked it up one, two more settings. You sighed in relief and moved your hips with what little mobility she’d allowed you.

“Six.”

She increased the vibrations again and reveled in your squeals.

“Seven.”

You cried out and wanted to beg for mercy.

“Eight.”

You didn’t.

“Nine.”

You felt like you’d forgotten how to breathe, lungs shriveled up into nothingness. It was as if you could feel each of your cells as they begged for oxygen, as your blood desperately tried to each your heart and brain.

“Ten.”

You came with a deafening scream, your whole body shaking for what feels like forever.

When you came down, your girlfriend was next to the bed, holding what you could only is another section of rope. What she planned to do with it, you had zero idea.

“How ya doin’, baby?” She asks. Natasha could sense something was off, but worried about misreading the signs.

It’s obvious she was not incorrect, though, when you tapped at your thigh three times.

Immediately, Natasha drops the toys in her hands and rushes over – untying the gag and freeing your limbs.

“What’s wrong, baby?” She scanned your body – terrified of finding blood or something worse. “What do you need?”

You swallowed what little spit you could find, your voice hoarse as you spoke. “Red,” a pause as you attempted to swallow once more. “Water.”

It was  all Natasha needed before she was rushing off to the fridge to grab a chilled bottle of the stuff and one of those reusable straws she stole from your apartment.

When she returned to the room she pulled you into her lap, keeping you upright as she leaned against the wall.

Natasha watched every muscle, every twitch as you drank from the straw. Your body seemed unwilling to move itself, relying on Natasha to hold you upright enough so that you didn’t choke. The room was silent except for the sound of your noisy swallowing (and, soon, the slurping of last droplets of water). You were about to ask for more, but Natasha found an unopened plastic water bottle within reach and held that for you, too. It reminded you of the first time the two of you fucked, and suddenly the world didn’t feel so cold anymore.

“I’m done, Mommy,” you told her when half the water was gone. “I’m good.”

“You sure, babygirl?” her voice laced with deep, genuine concern. Her eyes reflected the same emotion.

You nodded, leaning into her and rubbing your knuckles where they laid against her thigh. “I’m sure, Mommy. Thank you.”

Natasha closed the bottle and tossed it into the half-open bedside table drawer before she wrapped you in her arms. “Of course, honeybee. I’m proud of you for using your safe word, thank you for trusting me.”

You mmmed and laid there for a moment, your breathing in rhythm with Natasha. You two sat there, comfortable in the silence. If there was anything else to say, you’d say it – but for the while you enjoyed the wordless space you and her existed in.

It took a long while, after your heart had slowed and your breathing had evened out, but you eventually fell asleep in Natasha’s arms. It was peaceful, deep – somehow impossibly more satisfying than any of the other times you’d fallen asleep, even the times you’d fallen asleep with her. There, secured from harm in her arms and wrapped in blankets, you felt secure. It was indescribable, it was wonderful, it was safe. And to you, in that moment, it was heaven.

[fuckthisshitimin]

Advent Calendar, day 20: 2AM (Captain Obvious)

read on ao3 

This one we owe to @flannelfangirl who provided a prompt in dire times. Thank you.

(Six times Raine stated the obvious, and the one time Eda did.)

1

The middle of the night and an unfamiliar scent in their nostrils. They were sleeping. They know it, and the sheets falling from their body is agreeing with them. A hand on their shoulder, keeping them pushed against a torso.

“You’re in my bedroom.”

A snicker, and the feel themself being taken from their bed, and now that they’re more awake, they hear the screams from outside. There’s a fire at the window, and guards bursting into their room. One, two, three shots and they feel them resonating in their body through their assailant’s torso. They’re moved quickly. They can’t see the face of whoever is manhandling them, but their hands are gloved and quick to find their jewelry. They gasp. “You’re a pirate.”

Another snicker, and they try to move, but the grasp on their body is too strong. This person has a gun, they remember, and a dagger they can feel on their lower back. “Yeah, you got that right. And you’re royalty, so I guess we’re some sort of natural enemies.”

A bag full of their jewelry is closed, and thrown through the window. Some other guy in the garden catches it. “Why am I still alive?”

“This is a kidnapping. Now you can come in peace, or come in pieces.”

They blink, and when the pun registers, they can’t help but snicker, too. Oh, they’re never fully aware before their morning tea, they shouldn’t be laughing now, should they? They feel the person holding them stop, and they wonder if they’re startled enough to let them escape. Raine tries to move quickly, but the grip gets tighter again. “You’re some kind of weirdo.”

Raine squints, and as they’re about to get out of the room, they struggle in the pirate’s arms. “Wait! Wait!”

“What, do you chose to come in pieces?”

“No! My glasses! I need my glasses!”

They try to turn around in the hold, see the pirate’s face. Surely they can understand, right? “We don’t have time for that.” Or not. They resume their way to the door, seemingly unbothered by Raine’s agitation. Thinks fast. Faster.

“They’re in my nightstand, with my mother’s engagement ring! It’s diamonds!”

A spark of interest. “The key around my neck! It’s for the first drawer!” The pirate groans, and soon they have their glasses on their nose, and the pirate… She puts the ring on her finger. They can see her face clearly now, gleaming with the fire outside, the moon and the night. Just for a second.

Just before they have to go back to getting kidnapped.

2

Living with pirates is… hard. But they’re adjusting. They know it’s just for a short while. Until their uncle pays for their release. Until then, it’s moving from port to port, never staying, nights in the sea. It’s a smaller ship than they expected.

Especially when they learnt who was aboard. The Owl Lady herself, wanted by the government for years. At first they were tied in the sailor’s cabin, but when it was settled that they wouldn’t run (or swim, because they do not know how), she left them walk around the ship mostly unsupervised. The Owl Lady let the King know she has them, arranged a meeting. She said she’d give them back on the longest night, and that the royal guards would have to wait.

That leaves them a good week before getting back to their old life, and they do not know how they feel about it. The girl they shared most their nights with, Luz, she is nice in her ways. When they didn’t fight nor cry, she said, You’re a weirdo, and they said, Your captain said that too, and she said, Funny. And she patted them on the back.

They hold their arms against their chest, fighting the cold of the night to get something to drink. Tonight is the third night they haven’t touched grounds, and already what little fresh water they had has turned awful, and Raine still has to get used to the taste of putrid water and rum. There’s a candle burning in the Captain’s cabin, and they open the door. If asked, they’ll say it’s the air of the sea making them crazy, or the alcohol in their water, they don’t really have to have a reason to open that door, do they?

Golden eyes on them, and a frown. The grease and dirt on her face can’t hide the bags under her eyes, and they close the door behind them. “You’re not sleeping,” they say under their breath, and she snorts.

“Do you always have to say these stuff out loud?” There’s a bottle of rum on her desk, and she hides what she was writing. It’s not a map. It almost looks like a letter. “Well, out lout. Your voice is so small, it’s like a whisper.”

They’ve been told that enough in their life, and they nod. She snarks. Her laughter is like a bite, yet it never hurts.

“You don’t even deny it! Ha! What, are you proud of that?”

They shrug. “Well, I don’t need to shout, why would I?”

Her eyes are sharper in an instant. “Really?” Her smile isn’t as warm anymore, and even the red on her lips is cold, cold like the ocean under them. “Huh. I guess that comes with nobility. What now? Do you need me to listen to you to, Whisper?”

They roll their eyes. They guess that’s their name now. “I just saw light and I came in.”

“That’s what I say when I rob a house.”

They shrug, again. “Are you afraid I would try to rob you?”

She flips the page she was writing on to lean on her chair, taking the bottle with her. Her tone is playful, but Raine doesn’t know if she is. “Nah, I know you don’t need that.”

They grimace, watching as she takes a sip of rum. No, they don’t. She laughs again, harder. “There isn’t anything in this room you could possibly want!”

They look around. Maps and books and a tiny place to sleep and the Captain and shiny object. They don’t need any of this, she got that right. What could they possibly want then, that makes them linger until she kicks them out?

3

Luz is dancing a tipsy dance, and Raine cannot believe how lucky they got, to find a violin in such a place. Eda said it once belonged to a woman who sailed with her. She didn’t give Raine her name, or nickname, she just talked in that ghostly voice than can only mean she will never come back.

And when they played the lull in Eda’s voice disappeared and she drank more and she danced more. King had his first taste of alcohol tonight, and his tiny legs can’t follow the rhythm, but his voice is angelic in its own way. It’s powerful, too. Such a loud song coming from such a young child.

It’s their last night before the exchange is made, and the whole ship is buzzing in anticipation. Luz said she’d have someone come on board and teach her how to read and count, teach her history and sciences. When they picked up the violin, she said she wished someone would teach her how to play, too, and Eda chimed in, saying she would.

Now King has fallen asleep and Luz is taking him to bed but Eda is still dancing. The sky is clear and the bright moon traces silver lines in her hair. She howls, or maybe, hoot would be a better term, groaning when they stop playing.

“Why? No! The party isn’t over!”

And she dances without music, alone on the deck, and they indulge her one more song, as her boots tap on the wood and her arms are charming and angry. They have never seen anyone dancing like that before. The last note leaves the both of them panting, and her eyes are moist and muddy when she walks to them. Her hand is heavy on their shoulder, her face is too close. She examines their features. “You remind me of someone.”

And she grabs their cheeks and laughs, making them twirl, almost loosing her footing. “You’re drunk.”

She makes them turn faster. “I know that! Ha! Whispers, tell me something I don’t know, for fuck’s sake!”

And she stumbles for good this time, taking them down in her fall. Her chest is solid under their weight, but this can’t be comfortable for her. Yet they don’t move. Not now. They think. “Do I remind you of the woman that used to play the violin?”

She snarks. “Eh. You’re not her.” A melancholy in her eyes, deeper than any they’ve ever seen. They think they see it, if only for a second, the shadow of a small girl, hidden deep inside the gold of her eyes. A princess, a baby queen. Her nails caress their cheek, and she laughs again. “You are nothing like her.”

They move to get up, but she stops them. The affection in her tone isn’t for them. They know it, but they can’t move. “You’re drunk,” they say again.

“This is a given, Whispers.” And she says their name before kissing them, yet it doesn’t feel like she knows it’s their lips, like she knows it’s their tongue, and when they tear themself apart the embrace, her eyes are empty. They said her laugh didn’t hurt, right?

It’s a disbelieving huff, a whisper of a laughter. They were wrong.

4

Tense. But ready. Everyone is ready, and Raine’s hands are tied in their back. Lights, not far from here, royal guards. They’re holding a chest, and Raine walks towards them. Eda’s gaze on their neck is heavy. Heavier than any cuff she could ever find for them.

They didn’t talk today, they just prepared. Luz follows their footsteps, holding her pistol towards them. They wonder, if things were to go wrong, would she kill them? She said she liked them. They stop for a second. Turn to the Captain. The Owl Lady. Her weapons are pointing the guards, she has a foot in the sea, ready to leave.

“This is where our paths separate.”

They wanted to say it louder. But they couldn’t. Still, she hears them. “Again with that obvious bullshit.”

“It’s that I don’t know how to say goodbye.”

She shrugs. Luz grabs the chest. It’s too heavy for her. She struggles to take it with her to Eda. Raine feels hands on them, undoing their ties.

Oh, they think, if only it was this easy, to undo the invisible ties tugging their chest towards the ocean. Eda has the chest now. It’s all right. She shouts. “It’s easy! Don’t!”

The night swallows her as she disappears in that undistinguishable line where the sky meets the sea, and they say, they whisper: “It’s over.”

And they’re taken to a bedroom with fresh water and tea and meat.

5

Shuffle on the deck, and soon, shouts. They close their book, immediately putting it back in place as they hear the crew members yelling “Pirates! Pirates!” and they open the door of their cabin, running towards the sound. They don’t have a blade nor a gun, they aren’t a skilled fighter, but they’re trying, they are quite fast at least, and whilst it is a fine skill when retreating, they find it hard to run to the nearest corpse, to take its weapon.

“How? How are there only four of them?”

A blade under their chin and they have to look up. They recognize Eda’s snorting laughter before they recognize her hair dancing in the wind. They gasp. “It’s you.”

Her laugh, her laugh, in two years, it hasn’t changed. It still breathes like freedom on a hill, like wind under a light sundress. It’s the middle of the night and she shines like a summer day.

“I hear you’re transporting something interesting.”

They get up, guided by the blade, holding their hands up. They smile. “Nothing you would want.”

“Oh? Are you sure of that?”

They shrug. There is nothing shiny on this ship. Nothing special, nothing worth any money, except– “What do you know about what I want?”

She makes them walk backwards, towards the cabins, and they stop. Her blade itches their skin, she’s late to stop and they can feel the scratch, the single drop of blood. There is almost an apology in her eyes. Almost. “No.”

“What?” They bend to the side swiftly, fast as they almost fall, using the harshness of the contact of the ground as an impulse to run away. “Hey! Come back here!”

They jump over a knocked-out sailor, bright brown eyes smile at them, “Oh, hey Whispers!”

Luz’s foot on their shin makes them stumble, and they fail to see her blade coming before it’s at their throat. “Why are you running?”

“They know where the book is!”

They groan, rolling over to get away from the blade, and Luz shouts at them again, and they climb up the cord rope— why did they decide to climb the cord rope? They shout: “It’s mine! If you want it you’ll have to take me with it!”

Eda’s snark as she fends off another crew member, her eyes circling back to them every time she gets the chance… Those sound like a promise and they hold on to the ropes, tightly. “Oh, you will take me with it.”

They’ll have their own ship someday, and they’ll be known far and wide as Captain Obvious of the Whispering Truths.

6

She finds them. Every time. Not even on purpose, it seems, but they somehow always find themself on the ships the Owl Lady is raiding. It has become a running joke, or at least Raine prefers to see it that way. Some say they are cursed, that they bring the eye upon ships, that they bring bad luck.

They think there are worse curses in the world than being repeatedly kidnapped by the smallest pirate crew of the world.

They travel with a black cat, and they call her Little Miss Fortune and she dances when they play the violin. Some people say they call the Owl Lady when they play under the moonlight, when everyone is asleep.

Truth is, they cannot play when human eyes see them. They play for themself, for Little Miss Fortune, for the moon and the sleepwalkers, for the eyes of the boat that have to stay awake and stare at the sea, they lull them. It’s not their fault, really, that their musical complaint brings sleep and peace.

They’re not calling her.

Maybe, just maybe, they’re waiting for her.

Maybe they’re looking for her. Or forward to her.

Because they can play when she looks at them, and King is the singing voice of all the songs Raine writes in their head.

Soon their music is disrupted by a ship approaching, by a pair of boots on the deck. “We meet again.”

And they do fight. They fight like they mean it, trying to get rid of her blade, to distract her, to make her laugh, just so that they can escape, they think, just so that they can win and be smug about it when they meet again.

Because they will. Because even if it is known any ship they sail on will be prey to the Owl Lady, tormentor of the seas, they are still family to the crown, and they will never fall short of men willing to sail with them.

Because no matter how jinxed they are, this scene will happen over and over. It’s a little ridiculous. It’s a little ridiculous for the King to loose every time. Of course he would be pissed. Of course he would pick up on the pattern. Of course, it is so painfully obvious, Raine thinks when there is a bang near their head and a cry in front of them. Eda’s blade falls on the floor in a metallic sound drowned out by the screams of the battle and they whisper, “You’re bleeding.”

A pained huff, was that supposed to be a laugh? “No shit, Whispers.”

They turn their blade against their crew so fast it’s almost comical. They fight, still, and they gasp every time they manage to fend off someone, whispering “Oh, I changed sides,” or “I’m with the pirates,” or “I hit you,” or “I have no clue what is happening.”

And when they retreat to Eda’s ship, there is no booty to speak highly off. Sailing away is hard and Eda is barely standing. They frown. “You’re still bleeding.”

She snickers, holding on to dear life as they escape, waiting to be out of reach to finally fall down, crashing on the wooden floor under Luz’s worried gaze. “What? Thought I’d magically heal when you joined?”

+1

Worried nights follow each other, it’s a slow process, and when the Owl Lady is jumping around the place again, a new year has begun and the days are getting visibly longer.

Did the world hear of their betrayal yet? What is the story people tell?

Little Miss Fortune has the grace to not care which side she is hunting mice for. She naps in King’s bunk and he complains about it endlessly. She takes the best spot on the deck, too, he says, and he’s certain he saw her stealing from the kitchen.

King is thirteen now, and his voice is changing in a way that makes him grumble. When Raine met him, he couldn’t for so many words. They visit a port where a girl with purple hair holds Luz tightly, and for the first night in months they sleep in beds.

Raine drinks tea, and they wonder if they can find a way to make some on board. They can figure this out. Their candle is almost burnt out as they write in their journal– Luz said writing always helped her, and they have to admit it is a pleasing habit– and this can only mean they should go to bed. They leave tomorrow. A shadow moves behind them and they turn to see Eda’s eyes catching the flame of the candle. It dances in the whiskey of her gaze as they smile at her. She examines their features, biting her lower lip. There is red lipstick on her teeth. She blinks, frowning.

“You love me,” she whispers, and they chuckle.

“Isn’t it my job, to state the obvious?”

She just stays there for a moment. The atmosphere is dense, and she takes a single step forward. She’s close. “You love me,” she says again a bit louder, “you never said that. If it’s obvious you should have said it.”

They squint, slowly getting a grip on her twisted logic. The most awful part is, it makes sense. They smile with all the helplessness they feel as she leans toward them. “You’re going to kiss me,” they state.

[managedmischiefs]

north//chapter eleven

genre: angst, fluff

pairing: season 10 spencer reid x oc

warnings: brief and non-descriptive mention of nonconsensual sex, alcohol consumption

word count: 7k

summary: amelia and spencer are forced apart too early in the morning, right at the start of a very important week.

i sincerely apologize for taking two months to update. school has started again and i haven’t been mentally well, not to mention a nasty case of writers block. so here’s the final filler chapter before shit goes down ;)

as usual, if you would like to be added to the taglist or taken off of it, just send me a message!

SPENCER

The light pouring in from the open windows wakes me up before my ringing phone does. My eyes squint in an attempt to adjust to the brightness as I grab my phone as quickly as possible. I glance down at Amelia on my chest just to make sure she wasn’t woken up. She shifts a bit and moves closer to me but doesn’t open her eyes, thankfully. Just as I suspect, Garcia tells me that we have a case and I need to get to the office ASAP. I thank her and hang up.

“Don’t go,” Amelia murmurs, winding her arms tighter around my waist. “You’re so warm. Don’t go.”

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry,” I pull her closer before I even think about getting up, peppering her face with kisses to make up for having to leave so early in the morning. “If you send me a picture of you drinking tea then I’ll do the same with my coffee, and that’ll make up for the cafe date we won’t have today.”

She smiles, returning a kiss to my cheek, all she can muster up in her sleepy haze. “Sure thing.”

Amelia rolls off of me and gives me the room to get up and start getting dressed. I bustle around her bedroom in search of my clothes and any clean socks. I resort to going through Amelia’s closet and grab the socks she has previously stolen from me. I make a mental note to wash and return them to her. I move on to brush my hair and teeth and when I come out of the bathroom, Amelia is holding my phone out for me so I won’t forget it. 

“Do you know when you’re gonna be home?” She tucks her head into her pillow and bats her eyelashes, giving me this soft smile that makes it exponentially harder to leave without guilt eating me alive. 

But the guilt grows and grows when Amelia’s face starts to fall. Obviously, she wanted an immediate answer of me assuring that I’ll be home in a few hours. But I can’t promise that. We both know that. That doesn’t make it hurt less for Amelia though, especially when tomorrow is so important.

“I don’t know,” I crouch down beside the bed, bringing my hand through Amelia’s hair. Her smile returns and her eyelids flutter, “and I can’t ensure that I’ll be home for tomorrow either. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she smiles a smile that I’ve seen too many times for my liking. Fake, disappointed, upset. “It’s not a big deal. We’ll have other anniversaries.”

“But this is our one year anniversary. I’ve never dated a girl for a whole year before! It’s a big deal for me!”

Amelia giggles, reaching for my hand in her hair and bringing it to her lips. “And I’ve never dated a boy for a whole year either. It’s a big deal for me too, but we’ll celebrate a different day.”

“But I’ll be damned if I don’t get back for your exhibit next week. I’ll be there.” 

“It’ll be open for a month, you-”

“But the opening night is a big deal. And I’m gonna be there,” Amelia holds her hand up, pinky out, and tries to keep her eyes from drooping closed again. I wrap my pinky around hers, “I promise.” 

Amelia smiles one more time, a genuine smile, and kisses my knuckles one more time. “Get going, dove. Don’t be late.” She straightens my tie for me and smooths down the shoulder pads on my cardigan. “Tell everyone I say hi. And be careful, please.”

“I will, I always am.”

“That scar on your neck says otherwise.” I roll my eyes at her. “Head out, my favorite crimefighter.”

“I think you’re spending too much time with Garcia,” I quip, leaning over the bed yet again to give her a kiss. “Go back to bed, Lia.”

“How can I when you’re right in front of me and you look so good?” Amelia smirks, although she is far too tired to even keep her smile up for too long.

“Don’t try and seduce me. Go to sleep. I love you.”

“I love you too, Doctor.”

I give Amelia a final kiss and grab my go-bag, leaving as quickly as I can so I don’t give myself the option to run back to bed and scoop Amelia up and kiss her all over. We spent all night last night in bed and I would love to recreate those events this morning, but the serial killers of America have apparently decided that they choose now to split us up. Just wonderful. Exactly what I needed, actually. I make it to one year with the love of my life and we can’t even spend it together. 

Amelia will be stuck at home or she’ll be stressing over her exhibit and I’ll be off in some random state, chasing another killer and comforting another victim. And then, of course, there’s her exhibit. She has been working on these pieces for longer than we’ve been together and I know she is proud of what she created. When Amelia invited me to the gallery, she was so excited and overjoyed for me to come and see her work, albeit a little bit nervous too. But she has had this on her calendar for as long as I’ve known her and has texted me reminders and sneak peeks of pieces and talked my ear off at dinners and cafe dates and phone calls. No matter how many times she smiles at me, I know she is upset that there’s a chance I can’t make the opening night. 

“Kid? What’s going on in there?” Morgan presses his finger into my temple, bringing me out of my blonde-haired, blue-eyed reverie and alerting everyone on the jet of my current state of mind. I swat Morgan’s hand away and try to return to the open book in my lap.

“Oh, come on,” Rossi encourages Morgan’s incredibly annoying behavior. “We can all see that there’s something going on in your head. Case related?”

“No,” I flip the page despite not having read anything on that page.

“So,” JJ joins in, “is it about your home life? Amelia, perhaps?” 

When I stay silent, everybody gets their answer.

“Oh, no, trouble on the home front?” Kate pouts in a way that feels like she’s mocking me. “I’m sure we’d be happy to help you nurse the situation back to happiness.” 

“Yeah, what was it?” Morgan sits down in the seat beside me and throws his arm over my shoulder. “Was she upset you had to leave in the morning before she could get some loving?”

“Chris hates that,” Kate groans and JJ nods along. I open my mouth to respond, to deny that claim, but I get spoken over. “I usually have to do a little bit of extra work to make it up to him.”

“Like,” JJ chokes down a laugh, “being on top extra work?”

“Exactly. Men just wanna lay back, get off without having to work for it, and see women’s boobs. That’s it.” JJ nods along with Kate’s words, and even Morgan is nodding, but that’s not a surprise. My eyes dart behind JJ’s chair and I see Hotch nodding too. 

“That’s clearly not it,” Rossi finally ends the conversation, waving his hands to get them to stop talking. “What’s the issue, Reid?”

“I’ve got another guess,” Morgan pulls back his arms and I think his hands are going to return to his side, but he just snatches the book out of my hand and tosses it aside. “She caught you looking at another girl and now you’re in the doghouse.”

JJ groans even louder than before. “I catch Will looking at other women all the time! It’s so frustrating. Like, hello? Your wife is right in front of you, she’s looking wonderful, and she has sex with you whenever you ask! Why are you looking at other women?” This catapults JJ, Kate, and Morgan into an argument about can people still find others attractive while in a relationship, and I’m glad they are off in their own world. 

Somehow, that ‘guess’ from Morgan hurt more than the first one, and JJ’s comments just don’t make sense. Sure, I still find others attractive but I have Amelia so I don’t even need to look for more than two seconds. I’ve caught Amelia doing the same a few times and it doesn’t even need to be a conversation. It’s human nature. And why is JJ having intercourse with Will ‘whenever he asks?’ That’s not right. Both people involved should be happy and in the mood. A few weeks ago, Amelia was in the mood but I was too tired after work, so we just went to sleep. End of story. Why is JJ having sex whenever she is asked? That doesn’t make any sense. It’s all so confusing. I don’t understand any of this. How did I make it a whole year with Amelia? How has she dealt with me for 365 days? 

The arguing gives me something to distract myself with for a little bit, all the way until the plane lands in Miami. I’m lost in thought about the hoard of stupid arguments instead of the ways I’m disappointing Amelia this week. I’m thankful for that, but not so thankful about the accusations from Morgan. 

“Oh shit,” Morgan chuckles as we climb into an SUV, “we never got to talk about your relationship issues, pretty boy. We will on the way home.”

I settle into my seat, putting on my seatbelt and crossing my arms over my chest. “Wonderful. Can’t wait.”

“We all know that you’re not really a relationship man,” Morgan continues, and the heat instantly rushes to my cheeks. I’m not a relationship man? What exactly does that mean? “But you know that we’re always gonna be here when you need help with your lady. We’ve all got experience in relationships. We can share our wisdom with you.” 

“Okay,” I respond weakly, “thanks.”

///

AMELIA

///

I stare back at my reflection in the mirror, ridiculing my outfit to no end. Should I have worn an expensive, sparkly dress instead of my double denim jacket and skirt and a turtleneck? But the patterned denim is cool, right? Should I wear a white turtleneck instead of this cream one? Would my silver jewelry look better than my gold jewelry? Should I have left my hair down instead of in this bun? Nothing seems right. Everything is wrong. 

“Lia?” Jenna says. “You’re spacing out.”

I shake my head, ending my self-deprecating daydream and giving her a smile. “Yeah, sorry. I was just wondering if I should change or not.”

“I love your outfit. I think it’s perfect. But if you’re gonna change then do it quickly because we have to leave in,” she checks the clock, “two minutes.”

My outfit is fine, right? Potential buyers won’t look at my outfit and decide not to purchase my work, right? Why the hell am I even stressing so much about something as insignificant as my outfit? 

“Let’s just go before I wind up going naked because I can’t make up my mind on an outfit.” I grab my bag and camera and rush out the door with Jenna at my side, jumping on the train and heading a few blocks away.

The exhibit is already set up when we arrive and for the first time all day, maybe even all week, I actually get excited. My day has been nothing but pure fear and anxiety, nothing close to excitement. But standing here with all my work surrounding me, I finally allow myself to smile. 

“Here you go, my love,” Jenna shoves a wine glass into my hand, drinking her own and looking around. “You’ve outdone yourself with this one, babe. This is truly the best work you’ve produced. I guess falling in love really did have a positive effect on your work.” My cheeks turn red but I hide it with a sip of my wine. “And speaking of love, have you heard from Spencer today?”

“No,” I shake my head, “but I’m sure he’s incredibly busy. When we talked yesterday, they hadn’t closed the case yet.”

The echoey room goes silent for a moment as I distract myself in making sure my artwork is in the right order. I know they are because I was the one who put them in the correct order yesterday, but I just don’t want to face this inevitably sad conversation.

“I’m sorry. I know you want him here.” Jenna gives me an unsure smile. "It’s a shame but I look forward to hearing what he has to say about your art. I mean, I know he'll love it, but he's obviously a little smarter than the rest of us so I'm sure he'll have smart things to say about your pieces and-"

"Yeah," I take another long drink, "I'll let you know."

Some time passes and the exhibit finally opens. Hoards of people show up, including my group of friends. They're incredibly nice and supportive and rave about my work, and it makes me wonder if they'd be any different if Spencer were here. Those thoughts don’t last too long because Beth shows up with her bosses, telling me that after we met at Rossi’s dinner, she talked me up to her bosses about my work and they insisted on coming tonight. She apologizes for the team being away but I brush that off and tell her to enjoy herself. Maybe I should take that advice. 

"Miss Amelia Stark!" I gasp and turn around at the sound of my name, a grin forming on my face.

"Oh my gosh, Penelope!" I grin, immediately pulling her into a hug. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be working the case?"

"We closed it," she exclaims, holding my shoulders tightly and shaking just a bit too harsh. "Those lovely people closed their case and we did our paperwork and they're on their way back and so I put this cute dress on and rushed my butt here because I didn't wanna miss your opening!"

"Oh, Penelope," I sigh, hugging her yet again, "you're the sweetest ever. Thank you so much for coming."

"The team all said they wanted to come but I'm not sure when their flight is gonna get in. Spencer was really upset about-"

"It's okay," I cut her off, pulling away and shaking my head. "The exhibit will be open for a month and they can come by whenever. It's fine. Get a drink, come on!"

I drag her over to the bar and she goes running off to find Beth, then just a few minutes later, she's chatting with some other people. I catch her talking to a consistent buyer of mine, a very rich and powerful politician who never spends long at exhibits. He just finds what he wants and leaves. I love Penelope but she has a personality that not everyone can handle. However, when I keep watching them, I realize she is talking me up and trying to convince him to buy more than one piece, and it seems to be working. I remind myself to give her a big thank you later on. 

Another hour passes and everyone seems to be enjoying the exhibit. I make my rounds and chat to everyone I find, and as the night goes on, I feel my mood coming down. The adrenaline from my excitement has worn off and I’m just left absolutely exhausted with my social battery on low. I’m left with the weight of my necklace on my chest, an empty wine glass, and a room full of people who are expecting something from me. I’ve never quite been able to figure out with that something is.

I lean against the wall at the back of the room, staring out at everyone. They’re staring at my work and probably critiquing my life’s work. But the longer I stare, the more my eyesight warps. And all I’m left with is some sick vision of a beautiful blonde woman holding the hand of a little boy, pointing at a painting of purple butterflies, and giggling in the infectious way toddlers do. It’s painful. I used to burst into laughter with him, but now the echoing sound only brings tears to my eyes. My hand comes up to my neck, fiddling with the butterfly. 

I wish my mom were here. I wish I could see the look on her face when she sees my work, and I wish she would criticize my drawing skills, and I wish she could meet Spencer, and I just wish she were here. And I wish my brother were here so I could remind him to be quiet and I wish he could question the meaning behind my paintings as I hold his hand while leading him around the room and I wish he could rave about Star Wars with Spencer. I want a supportive family to hug me and praise me and cheer for me when a painting gets bought. I want my family.

"Amelia?"

My head pops up to find Spencer standing in front of me, eyebrows furrowed and hands in front of him, reaching towards me. My eyes widen, almost in disbelief, and I stand up straighter. "Oh my god, you're here!" I throw my arms around his shoulders and he lifts me off my feet in a hug, squeezing my waist. "The way Penelope was talking, it seemed like the flight would take too long,"

"It wasn't too long, I'm here now. What's wrong? Are you okay?" Spencer mumbles into my shoulder, pulling away to give me that same concerned look I always give him when he gets home from a case.

"I'm okay," I try to give him a convincing smile, but he sees right through me.

"Do I need to point out all the reasons why that's clearly a lie?" Spencer retorts. Without asking how the case went, I search his face for injuries. Penelope would have told me if anyone got hurt, especially if Spencer did, but I guess I'm a creature of habit. I always have to make sure he’s okay. "Amelia, baby, I'm fine." He pulls my hands away from his face and holds them in his.

"Guess what? I am too," I give him a better smile than before, twisting my head to kiss his cheek to end the conversation. I debate on promising I'm fine, but I know that's an abuse of something we hold so close to our hearts. Promising is special to us and I don't want to ruin it by lying on it. "Is the team here?"

"Yeah, they grabbed a drink and started looking around. I'm pretty sure they found Penelope and I'm pretty sure she's a little drunk," Spencer is already smiling and it makes me feel better to know he's dropping the subject I clearly don't want to talk about.

"Yeah, I know. I told her to stop drinking and she ran away from me so I’m not sure if she actually did. But I'm glad everyone is here, I wanna say hi before they leave."

"Will you bring me around?" Spencer asks, pulling me close again and already leading me to the beginning of the exhibit. "I know I could just walk the exhibit myself but I'd love an inside scoop from the talented artist herself.”

As Jenna has poked fun at before, Spencer truly has something intelligent to say about every single piece we look at. He can see all the metaphors and symbols in my pieces, but I wonder if that's because he understands art in general or because he knows me too well. But no matter what the reasoning is, his praise and love and comments mean the world to me. If Spencer hated this exhibit then I would have to spend the rest of my days trying to create one that he actually likes.

It takes us a while to get through the exhibit, almost an hour, but the final piece is on the back wall and that's where we end up, holding hands as we stare up at the perfectly arranged pieces of folded paper on the wall.

"So," I murmur, "it's a-"

"A dove," Spencer interrupts, "and it's made out of paper. This is what you destroyed Rossi's books for?"

"Among other books. Mostly books about profiling and crime and serial killers. I printed out a lot of newspapers you've been quoted in, your dissertation, and just things you've written so those are mixed in there. So yeah, this one's about you, dove."

"I love it," Spencer quips, leaning over to kiss my cheek. "I love the whole exhibit if it wasn't obvious enough. Everything is just- it's beautiful. I want this one in my apartment. Wanna hang it up in the living room."

"Well," I move to wrap my arms around his waist, staring up at him, "this one isn’t for sale, not like all the others. So, you know, maybe, one day, when we get a house of our own and we have space, we can put it up."

Spencer grins, fiddling with one of the curls framing my face. "Sounds like a plan."

"Can we interrupt the moment?" Rossi's voice breaks us apart, and I turn my head to find the BAU team approaching with smiles on their faces.

"Hi everyone! Thank you so much for coming! I'm sure you're all really tired after the case and-"

"We wouldn't miss it for the world, kid," Rossi says, pulling me into a hug. "The exhibit is absolutely wonderful. Genuinely some of the best artwork I’ve seen."

"It's amazing. I sure as hell can't do anything like this," Morgan chuckles, gesturing around to the art on the walls. "It's really impressive."

"Well, thank you, guys. I'm really glad you're all here, it means a lot."

"Hey, Dr. Genius!" Jenna is suddenly at my side, giving a small wave to Spencer and then the team, almost spilling her wine, which means she's probably drunk. The team laughs at the nickname as I easily take the drink from her hand, keeping her from drinking any more. "Hey, Lia, Robbie is here and he wanted me to tell you he says six."

"Alright," I sigh and send a smile to the team, wrapping my arm around Jenna’s waist to keep her upright, "I've gotta go deal with some stuff but I'll see you guys later and if I don't, thank you for coming and get home safe."

I squeeze Spencer's hand once more before heading off, searching for Robbie, an old friend of mine who frequently buys my art. We chat for a while and when I turn my head to search for Spencer, I find that he's talking to my friend group. Jenna is there too but that does nothing to calm my anxiety since she is far too drunk to be in this setting. God only knows what they could be talking about. They could be scaring him away or Spencer could be subtly telling them off or literally anything could be going on. But then Spencer is smiling and laughing and it makes me relax, but it doesn't make me wonder any less what the topic of conversation is.

Time rolls on and eleven gets closer, which means the exhibit starts to clear out. By twelve, most pieces have been bought and the room has emptied. Spencer sticks around, thankfully, and sees everyone off. I'm thankful that he lets me hang on him when everyone leaves, and he catches my waist as I fall into his arms at the end of an incredibly long night.

"Do you have to do this every night for a month?" Spencer asks, hands clutching my waist to keep me up, his voice echoing off of the white walls.

"No, no," I shake my head, steadying myself on my feet and nuzzling my nose against his neck, "I don't have to come every night but I try to come a lot. But the first night is always the most stressful and it's the busiest, as you could see."

Spencer hums, moving his hands to rub up and down my back. "How about we go back to one of our apartments and we order some food? I'm hungry and I'm sure you are too."

"Please. Yes. Absolutely," I agree, practically dragging Spencer out of the room. At the mention of food, my stomach starts grumbling. On the walk back to my apartment, we stop at our favorite diner to pick up dinner.

"Well," Spencer follows me into my apartment, flipping on the main light and kicking off his shoes, "that was something very different than I'm used to, but I really enjoyed it."

"You met my friends," it's too much for me to hold in anymore, but I don't look up as I take my shoes off and shrug off my denim jacket. I just blurt it out and keep my eyes down to avoid this confrontation that I just started.

Spencer chuckles when he takes off his own jacket, hanging it up beside my own. "Yeah, I did. "

I start to head towards the stairs, pausing to make sure he's following me and when he’s on the step right below me, I start my ascent. "And? What'd they say?"

"Do you want the profiler answer or the regular answer?" I genuinely think over that question as I walk up the stairs. Normally, I wouldn't want the profiler answer. But I'm curious what the true intentions of my friends are and I know the profiler answer will give me that. And so, I tell him that. "Well," Spencer begins, reaching across me in my closet for his own clothes, "honestly, they seemed very hesitant to be around me when I first went over to them. Jenna had brought me over and introduced me, and none of them seemed like they really wanted anything to do to me. But we started talking about your art and they started to ask me my interpretation of your pieces like they thought I wouldn't find meaning in any of them. Once I told your friends about some of them, that's when they started to open up and actually be nice."

I roll my eyes and pull out a set of pajamas for myself, stripping myself of my own clothes. "They're so annoying. Spencer, I'm so sorry."

"It's fine, not a big deal. Honestly, I've dealt with ruder people who've said worse," Spencer pulls off his sweater and replaces it with another, sitting on the bed when he's changed into his pajamas. "But really, babe, I'm so proud of you. The exhibit was amazing."

Changing my mind on clothes, I grab Spencer’s discarded sweater and put it over my sweatpants. "Thanks, Spence."

"I'm gonna go make some tea. Do you want some?" Spencer runs his hands through his hair and heads towards the stairs, not even waiting for the confirmation he knew he would get from me.

Once I'm completely redressed, I take out my contacts and wrap myself in a blanket, tiptoeing down the stairs. I catch sight of Spencer in the kitchen but I walk right past, opening the unlocked balcony door as quietly as I possibly can. I sneak out and sit down on the armchair there, drawing my knees to my chest and letting out a heavy breath. I try to let out all of the negative energy I’m bottling up, but it doesn’t quite work.

"Amelia," my time outside is short-lived as it usually is because Spencer is interrupting me in just a minute, "I finished the tea, and I put dinner out."

"Okay," I whisper, nodding slowly. I move from the chair and breeze past my boyfriend, into the kitchen where there are two cups of tea and containers from the diner. I hear Spencer close and lock the balcony door before closing the curtain, following me further into my apartment.

I sit on the counter with my box of food in my lap and my cup of tea beside me, Spencer sitting at the island, and awkward silence occupying the other chairs. This silence is so different from the others we’ve sat through. This feels tense and unsure with a bit of fear sprinkled in. I know it’s my fault because I acted so weird at the exhibit, but I just want it to be over. Spencer isn’t saying anything, and it doesn’t seem like he will any time soon, and there’s only one thing I can think of to say to break the painful silence. 

"Um," I keep my eyes down, stabbing my pancake over and over to attempt to make intricate designs with the four holes, "whenever I have exhibits or galleries or showcases, it makes me miss my family."

Spencer is silent for a moment, probably thinking over my words in his head and wondering what the right thing to say is. The joke is on him though because any further conversation is guaranteed to make me cry. There is no right thing to say. Everything is wrong. "Your family? Like, your biological family?"

"Yeah," I nod. "I just-” I actually eat a small piece of pancakes to force down the lump in my throat, “I wish my mom and my brother could see my work. I love my foster family with all my heart but, I just-"

"You don't have to explain yourself," Spencer interjects. "You want your family and there's nothing wrong with that."

I bury my face in my hands, letting out a shaky breath as the tears pour out of my eyes like an uncontrollable flood. I hear the chair scrape against the floor and then feel my takeout box being moved away from my lap, followed by Spencer's warm hands on my legs. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I apologize, shaking my head at myself and trying to push him away. "I just-” he grabs my hands, preventing me from hitting his chest, “I don't want you to leave me," I wrap my arms around his shoulders as tight as I can get them, as if squeezing him will ensure that he sticks around forever.

"I don't know how many times I have to remind you that I'm not going anywhere," Spencer whispers back. "I know you've lost a lot of people in your life but I'm not gonna be one of them. Hey, we talked about buying a house today, love. I'm in this for the long haul with you and you know that, right? I'm right here."

"Okay," I mutter, pushing my face in his neck. "Thank you. I’m sorry for making you say that again."

“I’ll tell you whatever you need, as many times as you need it. I’ll never get tired of reminding you how much I love you.”

I smile gently, nodding along to his words, bringing my hands up to his hair. And in the quietest words I can muster up, I say, “okay.”

“Why don’t we,” Spencer turns away and grabs my container that he moved aside, “go eat in bed and then go right to sleep? It’s late and-”

“And you have work tomorrow,” I finish for him, taking the food from his hands and dragging myself to the stairs.

“Actually,” Spencer is at my side in a second, “I requested the day off for tomorrow so we can celebrate our anniversary.”

I whip around, stopping halfway up the stairs and grinning at him. “Really?”

“Really,” he echos, grabbing my waist and walking me up to bed. “I felt really bad about missing it so I ensured that we won’t be interrupted tomorrow. I’m gonna make it up to you.”

“Oh, really?” I fall back onto the bed and toss my food aside, pulling Spencer on top of me by his tie. “You wanna make it up to me and don’t wanna be interrupted? Did you have anything in mind, Dr. Reid?”

“Maybe a couple of things. I could start making it up to you now.”

“That sounds like a perfect idea.”

///

SPENCER

///

"Spencer?" Amelia shouts from upstairs, her voice faint as I'm lacing on my converse by the front door, already in my jacket.

"Amelia?" I yell back in the same tone, and when I tie off my second shoe, I grab her black heels from the ground before standing. I lean against the door and watch as she comes hurrying down the stairs, socked feet silent as she ties a black ribbon around her curly ponytail.

"Have you seen my shoes? I can't seem to-" she looks up at me holding them out to her and freezes, a smile coming to her face. "You're just the perfect man, aren't you?"

I laugh as she takes them from me, leaning down to step into them. "Just got a pretty good memory."

"Pretty good is underselling yourself, dove," Amelia stands up straight, now a few inches taller as she puts on her small backpack and tucks her keys in her jacket pocket. “Ready to go?”

“Are you?” She sticks her tongue out at me for my sass, taking my hand in hers and dragging me out of the apartment.

There are a million things we could do on our mock anniversary. We spent the whole morning debating what to do and couldn’t even decide. So we decided to do the only thing we could agree on- a cafe date. We decide that we’re going to get coffee and then wander around until we find something to do. It’s really a horrible plan, the worst we could come up with, but it’s fitting. We never make plans because there’s always the potential for my job to ruin them, so no plan today is weirdly perfect and it just makes sense. 

“So,” Amelia chirps as we sit down at our normal table, warm drinks in hand, “How was the case?”

And we just fall into natural conversation after that. I pivot away from the conversation about the case and we talk about the exhibit, then our favorite type of tea, then argue over where we think the best vacation spot would be (Amelia says somewhere in the Caribbean whereas I would want to go Iceland), and then we rehash the argument about what we should do today. Still, no decision. 

And as we’re talking, I glance behind Amelia’s seat and suddenly my attention is off of my girlfriend. A few seats away, there is a couple sitting in a booth. They are sitting on the same side of the table and the girl is curled up at the guy’s side, legs draped over his and her head on his shoulder. She is positively beaming, staring up at the guy with a giant smile on her face. He looks down at her with the same expression and then they kiss, and I can even hear their laughs from here. She looks happy. She looks like Amelia does when we’re together. But I don’t look like that guy and he seems to be doing good with his relationship. I’m not like that. So is Amelia really happy with me, even though she looks at me with stars in her eyes? Maybe not.

“Spence?” Amelia’s voice breaks me away from my staring, and my head snaps over to her. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I answer too quickly, drinking my coffee and not even grimacing at how hot it is, “I’m fine.”

“You sure?” She twists around in her seat to look behind her, to see what I see, but she turns back with furrowed brows.

“Yeah,” I take the last sip of my coffee and stand, holding my hand out for her. “Ready to go?”

Amelia tilts her head to the side like an adorable, confused puppy but takes my hand anyway. We leave the cafe and walk down the street, silence falling over us. I pull Amelia closer to me and she curls into my side, holding onto my arm and laying her head on my shoulder, the same way that girl did to the guy beside her. But she never looks up at me with those stars and my shoulders slump forward, the corners of my mouth pointing towards the ground.

“Ooh!” Amelia points across the street to a bookstore that I frequent. “Let’s go there.” And without giving me a chance, she pulls me off the sidewalk and into the store.

It’s perfectly quiet in the store, hopefully quiet enough to hush the blaring thoughts in my head, and it’s empty too. Amelia wanders off right away, disappearing down an aisle that I never go in. So I look through books alone, picking out a couple and tucking them under my arm. But being alone quickly gets boring so I go searching for my girlfriend.

I first go down the aisle she went down and find her right away, sitting in front of the endcap with her sketchbook in her hands and the pencil flying across the page. Not wanting to interrupt, I sit across from her and put my legs in front of me, right beside hers, and start reading. She puts her left hand on my leg, a silent acknowledgment of my presence, and keeps drawing. 

I try to read but I just can’t focus. I’m too distracted by the sound of Amelia’s pencil and Amelia’s touch and the bow in Amelia’s hair and Amelia’s gorgeous smile and the smell of Amelia’s perfume wafting between us and Amelia’s dress and just Amelia. She is filling my senses so intensely that it’s painful and I have to put my book down before I lose my mind.

“Amelia,” she hums, not even looking up at the sound of my voice. “Am I-” she looks up at the start of my question and her eye contact makes it so much harder to force out my words. “Do you-”

“Do I?” she parrots, waiting for me to finish the allusive question. She looks back down at her sketchbook.

“Have you ever had sex with me when you didn’t want to?”

Her head snaps right back up. “Excuse me?” 

“Like,” I fumble for the right words to explain myself and it all just comes out wrong. “Do you think it’s bad that I still find other people attractive even though we’re dating? I definitely wanna be with you and no one else but does it bother you that I find other people attractive? Because I don’t wanna be disrespectful and if it bothers you then I can try to stop but it might be hard because the chemicals in our brain make-”

“Okay, okay, stop,” Amelia puts her sketchbook down and scoots closer to me, putting her hands on my cheeks. “Spencer, I am insanely confused. What the fuck are you talking about? First, you asked me if I have sex with you when I don’t want to and now you’re talking yourself into not finding other people attractive. Please explain.”

So I recount everything that JJ and Kate said about their husbands and then what Morgan asked about me. The confusion never really leaves her face as I explain but I keep word vomiting, only finding comfort in her warm hands on my face.

“Okay, let me clarify something for you,” she pulls my face closer to hers, so close that I can smell the green tea on her breath. “I have never had sex with you when I didn’t want to. I can promise you that. And you finding other people attractive doesn’t bother me. Just because we’re dating doesn’t mean you go blind around attractive people. It’s okay, Spence. Don’t listen to them. They always try to help but make things so much worse.”

But I’m not convinced, staring down at my hands in my lap, willing away tears so I don’t make a fool of myself in the middle of a bookstore I love so much and in front of the woman who I would lay down my life for. “Do you think I’m bad at relationships?”

“I wouldn’t be dating you if you were,” she responds quick enough for me to actually believe it. “I mean, I hadn’t been in a relationship before you so I don’t really have anything to compare you to. But you make me happy and I love you and that’s all that matters, right?”

“Sure.”

“Spencer, look at me,” my eyes slowly travel up to hers and she presses her lips to mine. Soft, warm, strawberry flavored. But it swiftly makes my pain and confusion and fear melt. I bring my hands to her waist and pull her body against mine, and I feel her smile against my lips. “Now, you listen to me, Doctor Spencer Reid,” I chuckle at her use of my full name, and she grins right back at me, “I love you, okay? I don’t want anyone else. You make me happy. Fuck whatever Morgan and JJ said. What we do in our relationship may not work for them and that’s fine. It works for us and that’s what matters. Do you love me?”

I furrow my brows at her. “Yeah, of course I love you. Why would you-”

“Then that’s the end of the story.”

She drops her arms and grabs her sketchbook, reclaiming her seat against the bookcase across from me. She gets right to work, scribbling away and erasing mistakes. Just like that, with a kiss and two gentle touches, she forces my insecurities away and makes me feel more loved than I ever have before. The woman I’ve spent an entire year with is right in front of me and continuously swears she loves me, the same way I do to her. She doesn’t want to be with anyone else. She only wants me. She might be the only person in the world who wants me. And at this moment, I decide that I’m okay with that. If Amelia is the only person in the world who loves me and wants to be around me, then I can die happy. She is all I need. She is the only one I want.

With one more glance at her enchanting, magnificent, gorgeous smile, I pick up my book and continue reading.

TAGLIST

@bxnnywriting @babybloodstonebones​ @blameitonthenight21​ @feralreid​ @anepiphany​ @reidscardigan​ @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​ @stxrrywildflower​ @penemily​ @whollytaciturn​ @thegingerfairchild​ @yasminwashere​ @shrimpyblog​ @blakes-dictionxry​ @anamelessfacelessnerd​ @wonderlandhatter​ @whxt-to-write​ @inkandexchange​ @just-call-me-non​

[hitsuackerman]

Unpredictable (Overhaul x Reader) pt.18

a/n: all i can say is... BRING BACK CHRONOHAUL :) hope ya’ll like the chapter!

warnings: this cannot be read solo

Links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 19

Masterlist to my other fics: here :)

Overhaul’s waiting list: @jjk-biased @infinite-universe-love @dirtypride @blackymomo03 @azzie @purple-rabanito​ @meximorrita @awesomeee19​​ @celestial-kanzakii​ @laure-lo​ @team-wang-puppy​ @aydience-world​ @choros-main-hoe​ @but-kairis-not-that-smart  @colorseeingchick (i cant seem to tag again :( hope this lands in your timelines!)

“Kurono.” Overhaul snapped. “We’re done for the day. Take Eri-chan to her room and give the new toy to keep her busy.”

Finishing the last part of the job, Kurono pinned Eri’s bandages and carried her. Watching as Overhaul left the room, he felt the little girl trembling in his hold. The past few days, his boss had been a little harsher on the girl and it showed when he opened her up without being warned. Patting her head, the flinch did not help in the tense aura surrounding the base.

Once he locked her doors, he walked down the dimly lit hall and passed by Overhaul’s office. The faint sound of him typing away in his laptop made him stop in his tracks. It was rare for him to even look at his laptop. Something must be bothering him more than ever, for sure.

Knocking on the door, he was told to come in and entered silently.

“You’re on the laptop.” He commented and lazily flopped on the sofa. Taking his mask off, he rubbed his face and leaned on the back rest.

“I can see that.” Overhaul’s eyes remained glued to the screen. “Is there something you need?”

“D’you talk to her yet?” He yawned and stretched his limbs. Legs ready to bounce should his boss show any sign of rage.

“That doesn’t concern you.”

“Just askin’.” He shrugged his shoulders and fiddled with his fingers. “Eri-chan’s in her room now and the toy still didn’t lighten her mood. Not that it ever works.”

He merely hummed and continued typing.

“Mind if I ask what exactly happened?” Kurono sat up with perfect posture. His legs angled to the door, ready to make a run for it. The tension was too much. Even for the precepts. He could care less about the budding lovelife his boss had but the limit was drawing near.  Hearing the laptop slam close, Kurono stood up and inched his way to the door.

“You have absolutely no business learning what happened behind those closed doors. But, if it pleases your curiosity, the woman mentioned her time with Ackerman.” Overhaul impatiently tapped his index finger on the desk. The other hand massaging his temple. “Satisfied?”

“What else did she say?”

“She said that her emotions aren’t there for the bastard and that she has her eyes set on someone else.”

For someone who played shogi skillfully, Kurono had to admit that his friend was as clueless as  the word could imply. Using all of his strength not to twitch his eye at the ignorance being displayed, he let out a sigh and went back to the sofa.

“So why be pissed about it? Clearly she’s interested in you.”

“I am not pissed. I am merely agitated at the turn of events.” He stopped tapping his finger and stood up. Exiting himself out, he decided a long bath might cool his head.

“You do realize she only did that to rile you up. You’re losing to her game, Kai. I bet a shit ton of cash that she wanted to see if a reaction would suffice and looking at you now, she got exactly what she wished.” Kurono talked the fastest he’s ever attempted in his life. “I’ll also bet my money that you ignoring her only adds to her growing problems.”

“And what makes you say that, Kurono?” He was now facing the arrow-haired man. Fists clenched tightly.

“One of the men saw her entering Nighteye’s agency.”

“THAT Nighteye?” He cocked a brow and took a step closer to the sofa.

“Yes. Her car remained parked for quite some time. By the time she left, I was told she was speeding towards the precinct.”

Gathering his thoughts, Chisaki found himself seated across Kurono. His bird mask resting on the table between them. The surgical mask now on full display showing the shadows his face offered. Without realizing it, his brows were furrowed and teeth gritting.

“If it’s bothering you, why not just call her or send a message.” Kurono shrugged.

“If she has been spotted entering the agency, chances are she’s been part of the heroes schemes all this time.” He was nodding to himself. “And she had the audacity to act like she was part of nothing. Smart move for her but not careful enough.”

Squinting at the train of thought he had just heard, Kurono rested his elbows on his thighs.

“So, you think she’s teaming up with the heroes?”

“She is.” He leaned on the back rest.

“She told you?”

“Not outright.”

“What gave her away then?”

“The night I left, she mentioned how the heroes don’t have a clear map of the base and only an outline. That was either a slip or intentional. From the turn of events, it may have been accidental.” The memory of that night, having his body so close to yours made him fiddle with the hem of his gloves. The scene of having your flushed face so near to his made him smirk under the black mask. Glancing at the calendar, though there was no need, it had been three days since the both of you contacted each other.

“Do you think we’ve been bugged?” Kurono asked. His eyes darting from one corner of the room to the other.

“No.” Crossing his arm against his chest, he let out a long sigh. “Not yet, at least. But knowing them, it’s bound to happen and they will use (y/n) for that.”

“What do you intend on doing?”

“Buy me a new sim tomorrow, Kurono. It’s best if communication is cut. The Quirk erasing bullets are nearing its completion. Any upcoming hindrances would disrupt the plan.” Taking his phone out, he checked for any messages. Seeing as there were none, he turned it off and threw the sim card across the table. The small plastic landing inches away from the edge.

“You’re not going to overhaul it?” This was something he was not expecting.

“No. Burn it.”

“You’re…” He took the sim into his hand. “You’re really serious about this.”

"Those rats are on the move. The chances of her bugging our base is high. Knowing she's not the type to refuse, it is best to cancel out any communication." Picking up his mask, he let out a silent sigh and wore the said item. "No need to fret, Kurono. I've already prepared the necessary actions."

"Knowing you, there's no need to fret." He too took his mask and wore it as well. Fixing his hood, he stared at his friend. "What about the Fukuo Kai case?"

"That is in two months. The hype would have died down." Standing up, he fixed his coat and motioned Kurono to follow him out. "Besides. If (y/n) really has an interest in me, she would know the perils of harboring emotions. Let's go. I'm famished."

"Pardon?" Kurono stopped walking and stared at the back of his boss.

"Even the strongest villains need nourishment."

"Oh, uh, sure." Not sure what to do next, he rubbed the hems of hood. "Shall I ready the car?"

Seeing the nod, he blinked himself back to reality and went separate ways. Walking towards the garage, the blue-haired man replayed the events. He wasn't too sure but he could feel how your mannerisms were slowly rubbing off of Kai. Not that he minded, it was just… weird.

Taking the sim from his pocket, Kurono weighed out the options of burning or keeping the small object. Kai or even Overhaul wasn't too fond of keeping mementos, but his sense of gratitude was always strong. His ways of repaying debts were always admirable, no matter how absurd his methods may be.

Once he was now seated in the car, he knew exactly what to do with it.

The following day, Tsukauchi took his seat beside you. A brown paper bag now resting on your desk. After the heart to heart talk inside your car, you are more than glad that nothing has changed. He still treated you as his partner, as well as his close friend.

"Here are some updates for the Fukuo Kai." Reaching out for a folder, Tsukauchi pulled it with his fingertips till he finally grasped it. "We have detected some movements in their western branch. Me and the 4th division will be checking them out 3 days from now. Care to join?"

Checking your schedule, it was vacant and you agreed.

"So what're your plans now?" He asks while grabbing a small chip from your meal. "Nighteye?"

"Yeah. They’ll be discussing who’s who within the eight precepts.” Despite trying your best, you couldn’t help the slight slumping of your shoulders. Slowly nodding at the words that left your mouth, you chuckled and shook your head.

“Are you debating whether or not to tell him you're a part of the scheme?”

“I can’t but I feel like he’s caught up. I tried to call him last night. Yes, I know it’s cheap of me. But, his number was unavailable so…”

“He probably was off doing villainous deeds.” Tsukauchi patted your head and dragged his seat back to his cubicle. “He’d be a real jerk if he won’t contact you within the next few days. Trust me. Not even bad guys can resist the temptation of women.”

“You’re making me sound like a prostitute, Nao~” You commented while checking your emails. For now, nothing caught your eye. The occasional spam emails were present and one from Hawks but you could save that for later. Any more birdmen was not in your priority.

A few minutes passed and you were now engrossed in typing reports. When the lights of your company telephone lit up, your eyes darted to Namase’s door. It had been a long time since the both of you conversed, or let alone saw each other. The fact that he was calling you only meant bad news. Recalling every case you left unsolved, you were quite confident that this was nothing worth worrying about.

Picking up the phone, you braced yourself.

“Namase?”

“Bet you’re wondering why I called you, right?” Right. You forgot. This man held no filter whatsoever. “Well no need to worry. I just had to inform you that we received an anon caller. Do you wanna put him on the line?”

“An Anon caller? For what case?” You grabbed a pen and paper.

“For the Arson case.”

“Can you put him on the line?”

“Sure~”

Namase put the Anon caller thru and you waited till you were sure he wasn’t eavesdropping.

“Hello?” Even if you weren’t sure whether or not you should receive this call.

“Is this (l/n)-san?” His voice was low but clear enough for you to hear. “I think I have some good information about the fires.”

“I’d love to hear it but I had to hand over the case to the HPSC not too long ago. I can give you their hotline number if you want.”

“They scare me. I would prefer it if it was you who passed the message to them. Are you free later at 4pm?”

“Let me just check my schedule.” You knew you were free but you felt the need to look up the person. “Can I have your name, if that’s alright?”

“Tetsu.”

“Okay, Tetsu-san. Where do you want to meet up? Is a cafe alright? Or do you want a private room in the precinct?”

“A cafe please.”

“Alright, We can meet by the Nooks and Books. ’ll be the one wearing black. I’ll see you later.”

With no greetings, the line ended and you put the phone down. Gathering your stuff, you began to skim through each article you recently read about fires. Granted it had been a while since you last heard any news about fires, the tip was or could be useful. Of course having to talk to the HPSC was something you were not looking forward to.

“Nao, I’ll be taking my leave now. Anything you want me to bring when I come back?” You peaked into his rather messy cubicle. “Geez. Calm down with your cases, buddy.”

“This is only for the meantime.” He scratched his neck and stared at the scattered papers and folders. “I’d like a creampuff, though. A creampuff sounds nice in these trying times.”

“Aight. I’ll bring you a box later.” You said as you exited the floor.

It only took a few minutes but you were now seated in another desk. One where you wished you were not a part of. Greeting the heroes who had just entered the meeting room, you smiled at the sight of Deku and Mirio.

“(l/n)-san! Long time no see!” Deku greeted you and took the vacant seat beside you. “How’s work?”

“Work is work. How’s school? Are you holding up? Must be difficult to juggle this raid and academics.”

“It is but we have supplementary classes so I can manage.”

“Your classmates with Uraraka, Asui, and Kirishima, right?”

“Yeah!”

Exchanging a few more small talk with the heroes, you locked eyes with the hero sitting beside you. The scruffy hair, eyes that looked like they haven’t slept a single second, and the trademark scarf resting on his shoulders. Giving a shy smile, Aizawa merely responded with a lazy nod before Nighteye finally entered the room.

“As you all know, today’s agenda will be task distribution. Let’s get on with the details now, shall we?”

The tasks were distributed rather well. Fatgum Agency would be accompanying the front of the team. Right alongside Nighteye and Aizawa. The other heroes were tasked to stay outside and guard the entrance for any possible nuances that might occur. The police staff were divided into two groups. Being given ample time to assign which officers would be in the outer and inner group, you merely nodded and took the list of names.

‘Great. More work.’ Flipping the pages, most officers were people you had worked with before. At least things wouldn’t be so difficult.

“(l/n)-san?” Nighteye snapped your thoughts away. Adjusting his glasses, he rested his elbows on the desk and leaned in. “How’s the task of bugging Overhaul?”

“I haven’t been in touch with any of them for a few days now. I will be trying this week if the situation allows.”

“Alright. If that succeeds then things will go much smoother and will surely pick up speed. Best of luck. Any questions?”

“Are there any updates about the League of Villains being tied with them?” Deku asked.

“As of the moment, there’s no movement from them. So, it’s safe to assume that they only have minor participation in said event.” Nighteye replied without batting an eyelash. He really was confident in this raid.

Feeling guilt rushing through your veins, you shifted in your seat and silently exhaled. Once Nighteye gave the adjournment, you scurried out of the room and made your way to the cafe. It was a bit traffic but you would still be able to arrive on time. With the cafe being near the station, parking would be no trouble.

When things were now settled, you were now walking towards the cafe and found yourself now standing in front of the cashier and saying your order. Taking your number, you looked for a private booth and sat there. It rested in the corner so Tetsu wouldn’t be too uncomfy.

When the clock struck 4, you were now staring at the lobby waiting for that Tetsu to arrive.

Sure enough, a man with a hood entered the cafe and made eye contact with you. Seeing as he walked towards your booth, it was safe to assume that this was Tetsu.

“Are you Tetsu?” You asked the man wearing the hood. With the sunglasses and mask, you could only make out such little skin his face had.

“I cannot stay long. But I came to hand this over.” He slid a small brown envelope. His head hanging low making sure you wouldn’t catch a glimpse at his covered face. “I hope this can assist your case.”

“To be fair, please stay while I go through the contents of this envelope.” Taking the envelope, you slid the content out only to have a sim card laying flat on your palm. “What kind of information does this hold, Tetsu-san?”

“That information is sensitive so you can check its contents before handing it over.”

“But, I’m not part of the Arson case anymore. Would you still want me to hand this in or redact a few messages.”

Overhaul did not mention you were no longer part of the case. Cursing at how blank his mind was, Kurono glanced at the environment before he exhaled deeply.

“I will only say this once, so listen carefully.” He uttered.

“This isn’t about the Arson case now, is it?” Sliding the sim card back, you carefully placed it inside your bag and focused on Tetsu. The words that came out of his mouth made your heart beat faster. Clenching your fists, you braced for whatever he would say next.

“Kai has been on edge and it’s been such a pain in the ass. I don’t know what the hell made you decide to mention Ackerwacker but you got what you wished for.” Kurono’s voice was low. Barely audible due to the cafe’s music. “But, it would be a lie if I said he hasn’t been more human ever since he met you.”

“Can you take your mask and shades off?”

“You’ll probably just arrest me right here.” Kurono took his shades off revealing familiar gray eyes.

“You were that guy from the restaurant?” Your eyes widened at the realization that Overhaul had interfered that early on. “Not that I’m complaining or anything, but ya’ll did me a great favor.”

A slight smirk appeared on his lips as he took the mask off. It felt different having his face exposed after a long time.

“I can see why he took interest in you.”

“Why meet me, though? Wouldn’t this only risk in you being overhauled and shit?”

“I have my ways. Kai instructed me to get rid of his sim card but I don’t know. Perhaps you can make use of it in your private life.”

“Well, to be honest, the heroes don’t fully trust me.” You shrugged. That was nothing new. “It sucks having to juggle work and personal feelings in this particular case. Guess both of us are in a pinch.”

“Perks of being with Kai.”

“You should probably get going… Chronostasis, right?” Putting his disguise back on, a switch flipped in your mind. “Hey you mind if I get your number? If you have one, ofcourse.”

“Why?”

“I like to make my connections.” You winked. When he took out his phone, you in turn took something out of your pocket. Placing it on the table, you pushed the small box towards the villain. “I’ll text you the instructions later, aight?”

“What’s this?”

“You’ll know when you open it.”

With that, Kurono pocketed the small box and left the cafe. When he was out of sight, you rubbed your face and groaned.

“Damn it.”

- - - - -

a/n: hohoho Kurono now enters the picture! hope ya’ll enjoyed this chapter! :) Mimick is still writing down Overhaul’s waiting list! if you guys have any questions or just wanna be tagged :) feel free to spam me! take care!

[uhgoodmoni]

Our Clock is Ticking | KTH

After a post Christmas breakup with his girlfriend Taehyung is celebrating New Years alone in a hotel. The ball drops, yet 2021 doesn’t come. 

Warnings: angst and some fluff

Ao3 - Wattpad

(Taehyung POV)

I pull my lips together in a frown, glancing down at the last text I sent. 

‘Merry Christmas I guess’ 

‘Read at 1:34 am’

A deep sigh heaves from my chest. Yeah. Merry fucking Christmas and a Happy New Year. Stuck in an unfamiliar country in an unfamiliar town by my damn self. Guess we picked the perfect time to pick a fight. I bring my eyes to the clock. It’s 5:00 pm on New Year’s Eve. I could be at home with the rest of the boys but nooo. She had to drag me out to see her damn family and then pick a fight with me so I’m stuck spending the holiday alone. 

My head falls back against the couch. What the fuck am I going to do now? It’s already passed the new year in Korea, but maybe I’ll call someone. Jimin… Yoongi. I don’t know. What would I even say? Hey, Mara and I broke up yesterday, and now I’m alone on New Years. Tch. Yeah. As much as I’d love to spill my guts out to them I’ve cried so much this week I feel just like shit. At this point, I just want to fly back home.

Luckily I was able to snag a flight back to Seoul for tomorrow. Not that it didn’t cost a lot, but there’s no way I’m spending another day here to wallow in my self-pity. 

The phone screen still shines up in my eyes and I look one more time. A tiny circular picture of her sits at the top of our text. Her tongue stuck out to touch the camera when I took the photo. Silly. 

When I take that flight tomorrow, will I ever see her again? I grind my teeth together, my thumb pressing against the power button. Despite how much anger is burning inside me, I hope the answer is yes. 

‘I’ll be happier if I lived this next year without you.’ She really said that. I roll over onto my side, curling up on the cushions. She’s probably right. I honestly did make everything harder for her. She was always so understanding though. I wonder if she even meant it. 

I sniff, wiping at a stray tear I hadn’t noticed. I’d like to think that she didn’t mean it. That she was just angry and it spilled out after all the dumb shit I said. Or what maybe I didn’t say. A shaky breath leaves my body, and my eyes clench shut. Oh, why can't I stop thinking about it? 

Maybe she did mean it. I had never seen her say something with more conviction and anger, her body shook as she had screamed it at me. Her face had gone red like the wine we were drinking. I’m sure that fueled our anger too. But there had to be some backing behind her words. Even if this fight had been the last straw there were so many feelings leading up to this. Every night she spent waiting up for me. How could I not see her patience running out? Slowly but surely our clock had been ticking. Every time we greeted each other, said goodbye, kissed. Had her patience been running out then too? 

Even I knew we weren’t fine. Fuck. I should have said something. Maybe I didn’t tell her how much she means to me often enough. Probably not. Of course, she cracked for the holidays. But did she really have to be so cruel?

I glance up from the couch, feeling the vibrations of a phone call. Damnit, I was hoping to avoid talking to anyone for the whole night. Should have figured, they are probably missing me. I sigh looking at the contact. Hoba hyung, a facetime. Not even just a voice call. Internally I groan looking myself in the reflection on my screen and making sure I don’t look like the shit I feel like. 

After a deep breath, I answer the call. “Heyyy hyung…” I try and push away everything that has happened. If I tell him he’ll just be worried for no reason. 

“Taeee, Happy New Year.” I smile lightly looking at him. He looks tired cause he probably stayed up all night. 

I grin, trying to hide away the frown that was stuck on my face. “Hobaa why are you awake so early?” He raises an eyebrow and just shakes his head. 

“Just am I guess, and knew you’d be awake so I wanted to call you. How’s the holiday with the missus?”

It’s awful. I said something inconsiderate and ruined the whole thing. We were drinking and I took her defensiveness as an attack on me. Maybe it was maybe it wasn’t. Doesn’t matter. We broke up and she said she doesn’t want to spend another year of her life with me. Now I’m sad and alone on New Years’ Eve. Probably won’t even watch the ball drop. Soak up my misery. I still have that bottle of wine I bought. 

At least that’s what I wanted to tell him. And I will. Eventually. Just not today. 

“She’s with the fam they are cooking in the kitchen.” I grin and he seems satisfied with that. Hobi is always fooled by my lies. Part of me wished that Jimin or Yoongi had called. They’d be able to call out my bullshit…

“Well, I shouldn’t bother you then you better go help…” 

“Yeah… well, how was your night last night?” I say, trying to get him to stay on the call a little longer. Damn, I wish I could go home. 

“You know… the usual. Jin passed out right after midnight. Me too.” He giggles. “But the others I guess you could say partied. Not really but we had fun.” I smile at this. Wish I had been there with them. 

“Wish I had been there.” I sigh, but smile softly to him, hoping to not reveal how I really feel. 

“No, you don’t silly. Go have fun!” He winks to me, “You’ll see us in a couple days anyway.” 

“You’re right.” I nod not feeling like telling him I’ll actually be on my way back tomorrow. It stays silent for a moment as he smiles up to me. 

“Stay safe and tell Mara I say hi!” He waves and I only nod. 

“Bye.”

“Bye.” He says and hangs up. Well… I look at the clock seeing it’s only been about ten minutes since I last checked the time. It’s gonna be a long night. 

~

My palms press into my skull. Trying to nullify the ache resonating in the back of my head. Oh shit. I groan, shielding my eyes as I tentatively open them. Trying to bring myself to life I lick my lips, the taste of that wine leftover on my breath. I cringe, taking a deep breath. Did I really end up drinking last night? I thought that wasn’t the plan. I lift my head from my pillow seeing the bottle resting on the counter. Still full. I swear I could remember at least drinking at least a glass though. Except now I no longer taste the wine on my tongue. As if it had never been there in the first place. 

I exhale and plop my head back down. Dumb. Dumb. Dumb. Fuck. 

Again I lift my head up, searching for my phone on it’s charger. What time is it? Oh God what if I slept too late and missed my alarm. 

2:34 pm. Fuck.

I pull up my ticket on my phone. 4:30 pm. Could I make it in time? Might as well try… I read over the confirmation email. 

Thank you for your purchase… Your flight is for 1/1/2021 4:30 pm.

I toss myself from the bed, heading to my suitcase. Should I change? Do I have time? At least I should brush my teeth. I flick through the email, feeling like I’m forgetting something as I shuffle to the bathroom. 

Sent at 2:00 pm. 

I squint my eyes at this. Specifically remembering that I got this email yesterday and not today. Maybe it’s like a reminder. I shrug and wet my toothbrush.

An alarm sounds from my phone as I set it down making me jump. I scrunch up my face remembering I had a headache, but it’s not really bothering me anymore.

 I look at the alarm… a reminder I set for myself. But it was supposed to go off yesterday. It did go off yesterday. 

Reminder: flight tomorrow leave by 1:30.

I shake my head, lifting my head to the mirror. I look like shit, but I have this whole week let's be honest. Setting my toothbrush down I pull up my calendar. Did I get it wrong or something? No, my flight confirmation definitely says the first. 

I glance at the little red dot on the calendar indicating the date. 12/31/2020. Pressing my lips into each other, I raise an eyebrow staring at the screen for a minute. It has to be wrong. I almost laugh to myself. Am I crazy? 

I check the time again on my phone. 2:40 Thursday, December 31. 

Have I completely mixed up the dates? I could swear that yesterday was New Years Eve. I push my hair back, looking back into the mirror. Though I didn’t watch the ball drop so maybe I was just mistaken. 

Just to be sure, I look up the airport’s number, and give them a call. There’s no chance I’m missing the flight. After a confusing phone call they confirm my suspicions. My flight isn’t until tomorrow. Feeling very confused I finish brushing my teeth and start running the shower. How could I have mistaken yesterday for New Years Eve? I guess it happens. But I so clearly remember the date. Hoseok even called me wishing for me to have a good night. Had I imagined that as well?

After being refreshed from the heat of the shower I check my phone’s history. No call from Hoseok, which means I must have been in a daze of grief. Still, It doesn’t feel right. The call is so fresh in my mind.

I look to the clock after cleaning up my room. It was a mess. I hadn’t picked anything up and would have had to pack last minute in the morning if I left it that way. Despite wishing I was on that plane back to Seoul right now. I feel much better than I did yesterday. I should stay productive, keep my mind off things. 

Time has gone by particularly slow today. Even after cleaning up myself and packing for tomorrow. I’ve been avoiding my feelings all day. I resorted to playing on Weverse and messing with Duolingo. Despite wanting to write, I knew that I would just dig myself into a hole. 

Maybe this time around I’ll call Hoseok. I don’t want to wake him up though. It’s still early and I know he’ll want to sleep in after the late night last night. 

‘You awake?’ I text the group chat. Maybe Jin or I don’t know, anyone to save me from my thoughts will answer. Though, maybe it’s a good idea to talk about it with one of them. Maybe they could tell me what to do. Ugh, it’s so confusing. Even though Mara said she never wants to see me again I doubt that she really meant that. Right? I certainly don’t want that to be the last time we ever see one another. I swallow. She was so angry. So upset. Her hands shook as the tears streamed down her face, and she sniffed trying to hold back the storm behind her eyes. And I just stood there. Like a jackass. A deer in headlights. Didn’t cry. I couldn’t, I didn’t want to react, cause I thought she was overreacting. She shouldn’t have cared so much about what I said. It wasn’t meant to make her so upset. 

My face finds the palms of my hands. I’m so dumb. What the fuck possessed me to be such an asshole? All she wanted was for me to care and I didn’t. But I do. I really do. My cheeks form a blush as my face heats from the tears. I press into my temples willing myself not to cry. Stupid.

Feeling the buzzing of my phone, I look down. It’s Hoseok, and I huff before answering.

“Hey Tae bear!” He greets happily in my ear. I try to smile but I just want to be with him and not on this dumb call. Instead of being alone I wish I was home. 

My eyes start to water and a horrible feeling starts crawling up my throat. I know that if I try to speak I’ll just… 

“Are you there?” 

I swallow, trying to push back this feeling. But I can’t, It’s pushing back. Tears prick at my eyes, and I just want Hoseok to be here to hold me. Despite trying so hard to hold the tears in, the feeling overwhelms me and washes over me. I heave out a hard sob. Revealing a feeling I had been holding back all day. My breaths are fast and choppy as the tears roll, and I cling to the phone curling my knees into my abdomen. 

“Tae… Are you okay?” He sounds worried. I try to slow my breaths and answer him but I can’t. It just. I squeeze my fists. I hate this feeling. 

The stream of tears doesn’t stop as I hug myself closer. “Sorry…” I barely hiccup out.

“Taehyung are you okay? Are you hurt? What’s happening?” I shake my head, pressing my eyes into my knees. The tears soak at my pants and I take a deep breath, sighing out slowly to try and relax. 

“I’m sorry Hobi…” I sniffed, should have figured that would have happened. Wiping away at my face with my shirt sleeves, I start to explain. “Mara and I... it’s over.” I bite my cheek to hold my composure.

“Tae what happened?” he asks, sounding confused. Great, I shake my head. I just want to be with him. I don’t want to have to deal with this phone call. “I told her she doesn’t do enough.” I deadpan, taking in my own words myself. “I said that.” My heart twists, causing more tears to wring out from my eyes. Knowing now how it made her feel. Coming from the mouth from someone she loves. I meant it lightheartedly, but that’s no excuse now. I know her better than that. She does more than enough. God I hope she knows that. I hope that’s why she screamed at me. “What do you mean?” He practically shouts, but I can tell he’s trying to remain calm. “What happened? That doesn’t make any sense. When?”

I sigh, “Like a week ago…”

He interrupts before I can continue, “Where are you? Why didn’t you call?”

“I’m fine, I’m at a hotel and I’m flying back tomorrow.” 

He sighs, “What happened? You guys…”

“It was dumb. I said something dumb.” I groan, pushing my hair out of my face. “It just spiraled after that cause we were drinking and I thought she was overreacting cause I didn’t mean what I said.” Hobi listens as I go on, “ I could tell that it upset her but I didn’t care, cause I didn’t mean it like that. I should have immediately apologized. No. I shouldn’t have said it at all.”

“Why don’t you call her and tell her this?” 

I shake my head knowing he can’t see me. “She said she doesn’t want to be with me another year of her life.” It takes a lot to swallow that down. I really toppled the jenga tower. Instead of fixing the problem all I did was be inconsiderate and ruin everything. I’d like to blame the alcohol but it’s far too late for that. Not that she would believe me but truly it was a joke. My shoulders fall, a misunderstanding that I was too petty to reverse. 

“Oh.” He says plainly, leaving both of us in silence. Damn. Now I feel like shit. I should have waited to tell him. Now he’s just gonna worry too much. I could have waited to tell him.

“Sorry, I’m fine really I’ll be coming home tomorrow. I just want to be with you guys again.”

Hoseok sighs, “Tae don’t say you’re fine if you’re not... It’s okay, you’ve been with Mara over two years. You’re definitely not going to be fine.” A hot tear runs down my cheek, and I can tell my face is swollen. “Why don’t you stay on the phone with me and later all of the guys and us will be there for the ball drop.”

“No, no…”  I mutter, knowing that they’ll all just worry their heads off. “I’ll wait to talk to the others when I get home. I think I just want to sleep early and get this day over with.” What a hell of a way to start the year, I sigh. 

“Do you want to stay on the call?” He asks, and I really contemplate this one for a while. 

My breathing is shaky as I agree, “Just till I fall asleep, thanks hyung.” 

~

I slowly open my eyes, crusty, and still swollen from last night. The hotel room is lit up around the curtains. My alarm didn’t go off again? My hand wanders to the nightstand to pick up my phone. 

3:00 pm. My eyes widen and my heart jumps up with me in bed. Are you fucking kidding me? How in the hell did I sleep that long? Oh, God. There’s literally no way I’d make the flight. Why didn’t my alarms work? I stare at the time, wishing it would magically change to a couple hours earlier. How is it already the afternoon? Was I really that tired? 

Not even bothering to stand I press my cheek into my palm. What the fuck? My teeth grind together. Why? After all of this shit. Why now? Can’t I just have one God damn easy day? 

Is it possible to cancel my flight ticket this late? I should at least try. Maybe there will be some open tickets on a later flight. Though I highly doubt it as it’s New Year’s day and everyone is going home. God, I’ll be lucky to find a flight this week at all, I barely found this one. 

On my lap my phone pings. I look down expecting maybe Hoseok. 

Mara… Can I call you?

Immediately my stomach begins to spin. What could she have to say to me? I try to relax as I stare at the text. She’s already said the worst so it can’t be anything bad? Even if she tried apologizing I just... I fucked up. Would she forgive me?

After a moment I text her back, now anxiously awaiting her call. I hope she wants to talk it over. I hope that I can apologize. I hope she didn’t mean what she said. The phone rings, but I give it a moment before I answer. Stupid. I don’t want to seem desperate, but I am. 

“Hey this is so out of nowhere but what day is it?” She says, sounding completely normal. Like we had just been talking not that long ago. Like we had spent Christmas and this entire week together. What day is it? That’s what she's calling for?

I stifle a sigh, glancing at my phone’s calendar, “What do you mean? It’s the fi…” The phone says the same thing it did yesterday. 12/31/20. “No way…”

She gives an exhausted laugh. “I am going crazy over here… I’ve celebrated New Years’ twice, and this morning my dad asks if I’m ready for 2021. Please tell me I’m crazy.”

“Uh that's strange,” I scratch my head. Holy shit does that mean the other day I hadn’t been imagining it? That I really had already been through the 31st. Today is the third New Years’ Eve. “I… I don’t know what to say other…”

“Damn. I’m sorry Tae. I shouldn’t have called. This was dumb and I sound so stupid. I’m sorry I should leave you be…” I shake my head as if she could see, “hey, wait, wait, wait. You didn’t let me finish. Genuinely the same thing has happened to me but I thought I was just mistaken because I went to sleep early.” 

She huffs, laughing out of relief, “Ha, I thought I was still drunk from the night before…”

“Sooo, what does this even mean?” I ask knowing she doesn’t know the answer.

“Well, my parents don’t seem to notice so I don’t really know.” 

“Hoseok is the same way…” I add, wondering if he’ll call me again today. Shit does this mean I still have a flight tomorrow? If tomorrow ever comes. What the fuck.

“Sorry again, I don’t really know why I called you…” I frown at her words, “I… I guess you’re the only other person I could really ask.” Nothing makes any sense, and my head starts to pound from my thoughts jumbling in my head. 

“It’s okay, I… don’t mind.” I cringe, unsure of what else to say. She doesn’t respond right away, probably thinking the same thing. It’s a heavy moment. There’s so much to say but neither of us are speaking. Even though she isn’t saying anything I can only imagine how she looks. She’s probably curled up on the couch in her pj’s, probably making the same face I am. Just sad. Which is dumb, if we’re both sad then obviously the argument shouldn’t have happened. 

“Well, if this happens again I guess we are just fucked.” She kind of laughs, making me smile, but my face drops again as she continues, “I’ll leave you be then… Happy New Year’s Tae.”

“Mara…” The buzz of the phone line lets me know she hasn’t hung up. I close my eyes, trying to formulate my thoughts before I open my mouth. “I’m sorry.” I shake my head, feeling stupid, “You are more than enough, I…” My words get caught in my throat and I can’t finish my sentence. 

“Me too.” She mutters. 

I sniff, “Can we talk… like in person.” “I’ll try and tell my parents that talking to you is more important than the ball dropping.” She sighs, and regret washes over me. Her parents probably hate me. They had been in the house during the argument. My eyes fall to the floor. I really just fucked it up. “Where even are you?” 

“Oh, this Hilton near a movie theater I think.” 

“I shouldn’t have sent you out. I’m really sorry Tae, it’s probably not safe for you to just be in a hotel.” 

I almost laugh, at least I know she’s worried about me. “I’m a grown man…”

“Tch I know it’s just… I shouldn’t have let you leave in a city you’ve never been okay.” After another moment, “Well I’ll come later. Just text me your room number yeah?”

I hum in answer and she hangs up. That went a lot better than I expected it to go. 

~

As I step towards the door, I swipe my hands down my pant legs, hoping my hands aren’t sweaty, and hoping I don’t look nervous myself. God that shouldn’t even matter. Clearing my mind, I pull open the door to see Mara standing there awkwardly, with her hands folded together. 

“Hey.” I mumble, leaning against the wall to make room for her in the tight entrance, gesturing for her to come in. Her eyes are shielded by her hair as she walks past me, but she wasn’t looking up at me anyway. After closing the door behind us we silently walk over to the couch, each taking a seat. In my lap my hands fumble with each other, and I bite down my lip. I guess it’s a bit more awkward trying to find the right words in person. 

I nod a couple times, managing to psych myself up to start the conversation. “I… I’m really sorry Mara.” The words come out breathy as it finally feels right to say them to her. 

She lifts her pointed chin to me with a small smile, shaking her head. “I accept your apology, and I’m sorry I took it too seriously.” Her body turns towards mine as she continues, “I’m not even sure why it really got me that mad because it was a dumb joke and it just hurt my feelings.” 

“That's all that really matters, I hurt your feelings and that's a good enough reason to apologize.” I finally make eye contact, feeling comfortable talking to her again. Those eyes are just the same as they’ve always been. She’s not cruel. She has a kind heart and her eyes show that. Why am I acting a fool?

“If anyone should apologize…” She sighs looking around the room, “It’s me.” I look down at my hands still thinking. “God.” She sniffs, and I immediately bring my face up to see her crying. “That's such an awful thing to say.” She chokes out, hands covering her face. My mouth drops and I do what I would normally, scooch closer to her and wrap my arm around her. Her head continues to shake in disappointment with herself.

“Listen it’s…”

“No!” She pushes me away, looking at me, her eyes reddening already. “It’s not okay.” Her eyes squeeze shut, tears rolling down her cheek. Even if she did say it, my heart still pangs looking at her like this. “I… I didn’t mean it.” She shakes her head, frantically wiping at her face. “I can’t even believe that those words came out of my mouth.” Her face becomes hidden as she buries it away in her hands. 

I turn my head away from her, unsure of what to say. It’s not like I can say I knew she didn’t mean it, because that would be a lie. I still feel like deep down she feels like her life would be easier without me. And honestly it probably would. 

“Maybe you’re right though.” I whisper, surprised that the words came out of my mouth. I certainly didn’t mean them to, but they did. They just slipped, like the tears I hadn’t noticed forming in my eyes. I roll my eyes, wiping them away. No use in feeling pitiful. What was I to expect with this lifestyle? Maybe I’m just meant to be alone during this time. 

“No… no.” She sniffles, realizing that her words had taken hold. “Oh Tae,” She sobbed, pushing herself into my chest. “I need you in my life. I can’t express how much you mean to me. I really didn’t mean it. I can’t even believe I said that.” Her tears soak through the fabric and I barely hug her back. Even if she wants me back in her life there has to be some backing behind her words. Moments of unhappiness.

“Tae listen to me.” Her fingers grasp at my collar, bringing my attention to her. Her brows were furrowed in anger as she pressed her fists into my chest. “I love you. There’s no one like you. I…”

My eyes roll away from her, doubtful. The tears flowed smoothly now, there was no stopping them. I press my fingers into my eyes, trying to see through the tears. It just doesn’t make any sense why she would say that and not mean it. “T… there has to be a reason.” I hiccup, attempting to push her away from me. “There has to be a reason you said it.” I blubber, hiding my face in my shirt sleeve. Wishing I could stop crying. Wishing I believed her. 

I feel her wrapping herself around me, and taking my hands away from my face. Weakly I let them drop to my sides. Letting my lashes stick together by keeping my eyes closed. 

“Kim Taehyung.” Her breath is hot on my face, as her soft fingers trace under my eyes. “There’s no reason.” She sniffs, “I love you.” She leans into me, our foreheads touching. “Please don’t keep what I said in your heart.”

 My head slides away from her, resting on her collarbone, and taking heavy breaths. How can it not linger? This feeling. 

“Please forgive me Tae.” She hugs me closer. Of course I can do that. That isn’t the problem. “I want to go into this year with you… I want to spend all the years of my life with you.” She rambles on, “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” I can’t respond, and so she continues, “please we can fix this…” 

I sigh, collecting myself, and taking a deep breath against her skin. “Yeah.” It’s all I can muster, still not sure how I feel. It’s not like I don’t want to be with her, it’s just… Does she really want to be with me? I couldn’t live with the fact that she didn’t want to continue this but did anyway. I’m not even sure how I could forget this. I don’t want it to stay on my mind but I don’t think I’ll be able to help it. Though as we sit here, I’m just grateful to be in her arms. 

~

“Hey” I open sticky eyes, to the someone poking my cheek softly. Mara’s swollen but soft eyes are looking into mine, us still glued to each other on the couch. We must have fallen asleep, I blink a few times, stretching my arm out from under her. She has a small smile, one that makes me melt. Speaking softly she pulls her phone around to me. “Look.” With squinted eyes from the bright screen I see that it's 11:58 pm. She sets the phone down, leaning on her hand, “We didn’t miss the ball drop. Do you maybe want to watch it?” 

I smile whispering, “I thought you didn’t want to watch it a third time.” 

She sits up shrugging, “it’s different this time.” Her eyes find mine, and then she immediately looks away, “Though I doubt this tv gets the right channels.” I shuffle up in my seat as she gets up, rolling her head over her shoulders. 

After my mind has adjusted to being awake I stand, following her as she flips the tv on, scanning through the channels, though the time has already turned to 11:59. There's some news channels but they aren't showing the countdown. 

“Dangit we are gonna miss it.” She whines, but only looking half upset. 

I huff at her pout, quickly pulling up the ball drop on youtube. “See it’s that easy.”  25. 24. 

Her teeth show in a smile as she curls around me, watching the ball fall on the tiny little screen. 19. 18. “Can we kiss?” She kinda laughs at herself after asking, her eyes falling to the floor. Though I’m shocked she asked. 

“Yeah… of course.” She still seems hesitant, until I set the phone down on the bed, turning my attention completely to her. 10. 9.

She attempts to look in my eyes, but her’s just drag down to my chest once more. “I love you Tae.” 8. 7. My hand finds her chin, pulling it up slightly so our eyes do meet. And the blush forming on her cheeks makes me blush in return. Reminding me of the first time we kissed. 6. 5. I push my forehead onto hers, rubbing circles on her temples. 4. 3. 

“I love you too.” 2. 1. And I pull her face into mine, our lips softly clashing. Making me miss her more, and never want to let go. But I do. Breathing softly onto each other’s faces, breaking into smiles. 

She looks down to my phone with a grin, pulling it up to my face. “Look! It’s 2021!”