#(which you know as a nine year old could be something as simple as breathing too loudly or some shit)

[lesbiansanemi]

WARNING FOR ANIMAL DEATH/MUTILATION IN THE TAGS

I think I’ve figured out why it’s the stuff with my cats that gets me the most viscerally upset when it comes to my roommate and I think I need to tell him why that is… we had a talk and he apologized for a lot of stuff but I just feel like I need to explain why I react so intensely to him hating my cats/wanting me to get rid of them

[siddyyyyyyyy]

New Home

Batsis!Reader

wc: 2.7 K summary: You, Bruce Wayne's sister, find Jason in a dark alleyway, on a cold winter night. warnings: angst, angst/no comfort, death, grief, open ending? a/n: some distraction for myself and for my followers who are all on their toes, waiting for the next part of "It's All an Act"!! (this is also dedicated to my dear friend, who won't stop sending me angsty edits of Jason Todd) Enjoy !!

Your day was draining you more than usual. Work has been taking a toll on you and it didn‘t help that the weather was not on your side today. Walking to your bus station, you had to be extra careful while walking, not wanting to slip on the icy side walks and hit the back of your head.

As you concentrate on taking slow and steady steps, you almost miss the way someone winces not too far away. With your undying curiousity, you search for the noise. It doesn‘t come again, but you are more than sure that it was real and came from the alleyway you just passed by. It could be a kitten but it could also be a simple trap from some wicked person. Either way, you step into the alleyway and shine into the darkness with the flashlight Bruce gave you just in case.

Your steps are silent and careful. Coming closer, you finally get to see more of what‘s in there. Several dumpsters are leaned against the brick walls of the houses, some snow still laying around.

After taking a small breath, you dare to get closer and light into the smaller sillhoute between those trash containers.

»Don‘t!«

A high-pitched voice exclaims and the little form holds his hand out to you in fear. You freeze too, not having expected to meet a, what seems to be nine-year-old boy. You sigh out softly and crouch down to his level, pointing the flashlight on the ground.

»Relax, you‘re not in trouble… what are you doing here, though?«

The little boy realxes at your reassuring tone and puts his hand back by his side. He stays cramped in between the cold cumpsters and you wonder for how long he has been hiding there.

Much to your desmay, his response doesn‘t help you a lot.

»You don‘t have to know that! I don‘t trust you.«

Wow. He has some snark. Much like Bruce.

Clearing your throat, you nod and stay crouched down in front of him.

»Okay, I get that. But I just need to know where your parents are, so I can bring you back to them.«

Your voice stays calm and steady, but it doesn‘t seem to help all that much. This time, the boy stays quiet and looks down. For the first time in a while, you start doubting your social skills. Did you say something wrong? The way he looks down and went silent makes him look even more exhausted than before. After thinking for a few seconds, you decide on a final solution for the both of you.

»C‘mon, I‘ll make you some hot chocolate and give you a warm blanket. I‘ll introduce you to my brother as well.«

You stand up again and extend your hand for him to take, which he does after a moment of hesitance.

Finally, after driving back for half an hour in a bus, you got him inside the Manor and wrapped him into a blanket, while you are busy making him a warm drink. It‘s close to seven in the evening and you are sure that Bruce will come back home in a while as well. Since your parents died, you settled on living together with Alfred for the meantime, which has been working well so far.

Now that Dick, the first boy Bruce adopted, is in college, it felt more empty inside the big house. But it seems like it won‘t be empty and too quiet for long, having another boy in the main area right now.

You sit down beside the little boy, who you soon learned is Jason. He may seem rude at first, but you figure out it‘s because of his closed off nature. But who knows, maybe that will change overtime.

»I‘m home!«

A deep, familiar voice sounds through the manor, making Jason tense up in the blanket. You notice that but decide to not comment on it, instead assuring him that it‘s just your brother. As expected, Bruce enters the main area and stops in his tracks once he registers Jason.

His eyes meet yours, silently asking for an explanation.

»Bruce! This is Jason. I found him on the streets, he will live with us now.«

Your brother only blinks in response and then looks between you and the little boy. Jason, still seated beside you, seems to lighten up at the mention of living here. He was already impressed by the size of the building from outside, so living here would make all his dreams come true.

Finally, Bruce learns to speak again and gives you a look only you can understand. He needs to talk to you later.

»Great, yeah. How old are you, Jason?«

As he waits for his answer, Bruce shrugs his coat off and just stands in front of the couch for the meantime.

»I‘m eleven.«

For the first time since you know Jason, you can see the clear admiration in his eyes. The way he looks up at Bruce is enough for you to be sure that these two will get along just fine.

As the evening progresses, you make Richard‘s old room suitable for Jason, before you will make Jason‘s own room the next day.

As you get back to the living room, you catch Jason and Bruce talking together and it actually warms your heart. The way they seem to understand each other on a deeper level makes you smile to yourself.

Suddenly, Bruce forgot that he wanted to speak to you about this. He is already bought for Jason and he is okay with adopting him too.

◐

It‘s been a few weeks since you found Jason in that alleyway. He has his own room now, you walk him to school and bought him new clothes. He looks way happier now, he‘s been eating full meals, and always talks your ears off when you pick him up from school.

You settled on taking turns with Bruce, you get to take care of him one week and the other week is Bruce taking care of of the bundle of sunshine.

As time progresses, you all grow closer and Jason feels genuinely comfortable with you two. Your teamwork with Bruce is paying off, but of course there‘s a point, where you don‘t agree with your younger brother.

After only two months of living together with the little boy, he proposed the idea of making him Robin. Naturally, you were against it. You made it clear to let him stay out of any serious trouble, but Bruce is stubborn too. You can‘t really win against any argument with Bruce when it comes to his work. And Jason seems eager to join on the vigilantism as well, so it‘s two against one. Not exactly fair.

Now that Jason works together with Batman as his side-kick, you spend every night worrying about both of them. It was the same thing with Richard back then. You weren‘t fond with the idea of the younger boy being Robin, but they both insisted. It‘s like arguing with two children at this point. Everything goes past their heads and only their opinion seems to matter.

But as time passes and you check on them regurarly, it seems to go well. Bruce makes sure Jason still eats well while training and won‘t get hurt during patrol. Maybe you have underestimated his ability to take care of a child, but Bruce seems to do well enough.

Not worrying so much anymore, you continued to go about your days and co-parent Jason. You noticed the growing relationship between Alfred and Jason too. It‘s endearing, seeing them bake cookies together from time to time or cleaning up the kitchen together just makes your heart wrench with sweetness.

During the days, you spent most of your time together with Jason, helping him with homework before he goes to patrol with Bruce. It doesn‘t feel like Jason has any trouble balancing school with his vigilante work, even when he has to take regular naps from time to time.

Jason is a goodhearted kid. He fights for justice alongside Batman. Sure, his morals are not always okay, but Bruce is there to talk about it and reign him back in. His intentions are clear. Fight the people who wrong the innocent.

You find out about his past. The life he had before living with you. It was heartbreaking to know how abusive his household was. But the fact that he keeps looking forward despite of his past, gives you hope that Jason stays strong.

◐

You come home from a long day of work, the manor filled with nothing but silence. That‘s strange… normally, Jason would be greeting you already. Well, maybe he is taking a nap before going on patrol.

Without any further thoughts, you make your way into the dinning room to get something to eat before you get back to work. The silence stretches and there‘s nothing happening around you. Surely Bruce is taking care of Jason anyway. He is taking most of the work into his own hands these past few months either way.

The day goes around and you forgot about the strange silence that doesn‘t seem to end. A loud smack halls across the hallway, making you want to check what happened. Getting out of your office, you find yourself standing in the hallway by the top of the stairs, heart dropping.

There stands Bruce in his full gear, the colourful uniform of Robin drenched in blood. On instinct, you hurry to the two of them, hoping this is just another medical emergency.

What happens after is a blur of panicked shouts and denial. Jason‘s cold body is the proof of Joker‘s gruesome games, but you still won‘t believe it. Bruce always takes good care of him and does his best to protect him, there‘s not a chance he could let anything happen to him. But not this time.

»I was too late.«

These words are difficult to register in your head as you stare down at Jason‘s lifeless body. The once eager and motivated child now lays on a medical bed, body cold.

»What?«

Finally, you snap out of your trance and glance at Bruce, recognising the same dissociated look on him too.

»I was too late. The building exploded when I got there.«

With a shaky breath, you can‘t hold your emotions back in. Your thoughts start to race again, the sheer imagination of what Jason had to go through to end up like this makes you want to throw up. You haven‘t felt so hopeless in a long time.

You remember the day you took him in. You remember it being a good idea, helping a lost child. You remember telling Bruce it‘s not a good idea to make him Robin. If you would‘ve let the boy behind back then, let him take his own way back home, then maybe he wouldn‘t end like this. If you‘d argued more with Bruce about Robin, this wouldn‘t happen. You shoud‘ve taken better care of Jason. Just because you spend an hour longer at work, Jason died.

It‘s all because of you.

Releasing a sob against your will, you quickly leave the Batcave and hide yourself in your room. Trembling hands and blurry vision, unclear thoughts, your breath gets stuck in your throat. Hyperventilating and panicking, you curl up against your door and hide. You hide from the guilt, you hide from the reality. But it‘s all to no avail. You know the truth, you know that this is no one‘s fault but yours and Bruce‘s. You did the opposite of what you are supposed to do.

You lost him.

The funeral is silent. Your ears are ringing the whole time, seeing Jason‘s grave is something you never even thought about seeing one day. It‘s destroying you. Burning you from the inside and out.

You don‘t talk to Bruce. It‘s difficult to even look at him. The heavy tension and grief is hard to ignore in the manor and you do your best to isolate yourself from him and avoid talking to anyone. Alfred makes sure to leave food by your door and politely pleades you to talk to him, at least. But you wouldn‘t budge.

The grief is replaced with numbness after a few weeks. You still visit his grave every day and talk to him, reading a few pages of his favourite book as if he is sitting right beside you again.

◐

Three years have passed from the tragic incident and Batman still has a Robin. His real name is Tim Drake and you managed to take him in just as well as the other two boys you had. Tim also managed to keep Bruce on track, although you can‘t recognise him after Jason‘s death. Bruce acts almost always out of pure emotion and fights more aggressively against the criminals. He comes back with more cuts and bruises than before. He became more reckless.

You talked to him, but it ended in a verbal fight again. The situation only seems to worsen once a new Crime Lord appeared in Gotham, who seems to be more powerful than any of the others.

You try to focus on your work and keep going like before, but you often find yourself staring at the group picture of your brother, Jason and Alfred you once took on his first birthday together. Sighing out, you keep your eyes on your paperwork and focus on it again.

Ding

Since Alfred is busy, working in the winter garden, you decide to answer the door. You open the gate at the front before you open the front door and take a closer look at who pays a visit. You don‘t recognise the tall figure, but you guess it‘s Bruce for a brief moment, before that thought quickly dismisses your mind.

Bruce is on patrol.

Finally, the tall and brooding figure is in front of you. He is still unfamiliar, but also seems trusting at the same time.

»Sorry… what‘s your name?«

You sigh out, making it clear that you don‘t have time for any pranks. But the tall, almost intimidating person won‘t budge and finally takes his hood off.

His face looks familiar. However, you can‘t seem to recognise him.

Jason should‘ve expected the confused stare. There‘s no way someone could recognise him again after being dead for three years.

»Jay.«

He extends his hand for you, introducing himself with that same nickname you gave him all these years ago.

Finally, your expression changes with a sense of surprise and disbelief. You repeat his name in a hushed whisper, heart starting to race.

Rushing him inside, you hold onto his hand to make sure he is real and actually there, not just a hallucination. Reaching up to cup his cheeks, you finally sigh out and believe your eyes.

»H-How are you… is this real?«

And finally, Jason lets his guard down and steps closer to hug you tightly. He still isn‘t used to his strength, squeezing you almost painfully tight, but you won‘t dare to comment on it. Instead, you happily hug him back and savour the feeling.

It‘s the first time in a long while that you felt truly comforted and you want to lock him inside your heart, so he won‘t get lost again.

»I can‘t stay for long.«

Jason speaks up quietly, aware of the butler being further away, but he doesn‘t want to risk it. You tense and get nervous by his words, looking at him again.

»What do you mean? Are you okay?« He doesn‘t really react at your words and just presses his lips together into a thin line.

»It‘s because of Bruce. I can‘t explain it to you but you have to trust me.«

He repeats and lets go of the hug, taking some steps towards the exit.

And you really try to convince him otherwise and stay, at least tell you what he‘s been through and what happened. But you couldn‘t and he is gone as fast as he appeared.

You should‘ve argued for longer. You should have made him stay, you could be more strict with him and actually make a change. However, this is how it‘s always been. You can‘t be persistent enough. Jason left again because you didn‘t do enough.

a/n: Originally, this was supposed to a angst/comfort drabble, but my dear friend sent me more sad videos of Jason, so I decided to be mean too. Hope you enjoyed it!!💕

←MASTERLIST

[jawritter]

Carry On

Chapter 25

Summary: It was just a simple hunt, found on a pie festival. It was supposed to be easy. Something they’d all done one hundred and one times a million. No one could have told Y/N, Dean, and Sam that nothing from that point on would ever be the same again.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader x Sam Winchester

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Angst! SOOO much angst!!! (Y’all gonna be mad mad). Talk of periods briefly. Language. Dean’s kinda a dick here. (Ducks from flying shoes). 

Due to the graphic nature of this fic, and the fact that it will eventually contain Smut. This fic is an 18 + only fic! If you’re under 18 DO NOT read this fic!

A/N: This fic is beta’d by @kazsrm67​​​​ Thanks so much love! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! I hope you all enjoy this ride with me!

My Mastlist        Series Masterlist

One year later

“Dude, you drop that fucking car off of that lift I swear I’m going to—”

“I got it Dean!” Josh insisted. “Chill dude. I’ve done this for over a year now, I think I can get her up there and back down safely.”

Y/N chuckled to herself as she watched the pair. Josh was completely amused by his boss’s overreaction every time the young man decided to operate any sort of heavy equipment, and Dean stood by mumbling under his breath as he watched him. 

Dean never would stop being a mother hen to these young guys he had working for him. It was just his nature to take these young guys on and teach them what he knows. He taught Sam everything he could about hunting, and what he’d listen to about cars. That last one didn’t come so easy. Now that Sam was gone, he’d taken to hiring boys fresh out of high school, and allowing them to work for him in the shop while they sorted out their college decisions. Several of them loved Dean like an older brother. I mean, he was hard as fuck not to love, even if he was a little grumpy in his old age; some  stayed even after they got their engineering degrees. Josh was one of those boys. By far Dean’s favorite too, that’s why he rode him the way he did. It was Dean’s strange way of teaching him. 

“You gonna stand there and gripe at me all day, or you gonna go home with your lady and let me finish this oil change so we can close up shop for the day? Y/N’s been waiting for you for the past fifteen minutes. I got this, go home!” Josh pressed, and Dean tossed his hands in the air in surrender. 

“Fine, fine, I’m going,” Dean voiced as he turned his back on Josh and started making his way towards the office where Y/N was standing at the doors waiting for him; her arms crossed, leaning against the door frame. 

“Done harassing the help?” Y/N teased as soon as he was in ear shot, and before Dean could even answer, Josh shot a loud, “No! He’s not!” from the garage, which caused Dean to turn on his heels and side eye the back of Josh’s head. 

“Little fuckers gonna be fucking cleaning this shop floor with a fucking tooth brush tomorrow,” Dean mumbled. 

Y/N tossed her head back in a full body laugh as Josh, who apparently has the fucking hearing of a bat, turned and stuck his tongue out at Dean in a very childish manner, and Dean growled in response. 

“Okay boss man, let the guy work,” Y/N suggested as she grabbed Dean’s arm, and diverted his attention to her instead of murdering his favorite employee. “You’ve been up here for over nine hours today, time to let go and get some rest. You’re gonna overdo it, and we have a long drive to Austin tomorrow.”

“That’s the thing,” Dean voiced with a sigh as he grabbed his jacket from the back of the office chair. “I shouldn’t even be leaving to go to Austin. I have responsibilities here and—”

“And every damn one of them will be right here when you get home,” Y/N cut him off, and Dean looked at her much like a sulking child. “Now, come on, your nephew is almost six months old, and you haven’t met him yet. You’re taking this trip Winchester, cut the fucking cord and let the guys you hired do the job while you’re gone.”

“I know, I know,” Dean relented as he looked around the shop office one last time, his eyes lingering on where Josh now had the Toyota on the lift, and was working on draining the old oil. “This is just the first time we’ve left everything and gone anywhere, and I seriously didn’t think I’d get separation anxiety over a fucking job and a house, but here I am.” 

There was a chuckle in Dean’s voice, but Y/N could tell he was anything but amused. They’d been together long enough, she knew his teles, and he was stressed as fuck. This is why Dean Jr. was going on six months old, and they had yet to make the trip to Austin to meet the kid. 

Y/N took a deep breath and crossed the floor to where Dean was still standing, staring off in Josh’s direction, but not really seeing him. She hated when he did this. The therapist said it might always be something that Dean had to deal with, but it didn’t break her heart any less. The fear, the anxiety, the nightmares, the horrible flashbacks. They had gotten considerably less, but when he was stressed out, they always seemed to rear their unwelcomed, ugly heads. 

“Hey, that’s because you’ve never really had anything to lose until now. Look at all you’ve gained Dean! You’ve got a lot to be proud of.”

Dean swallowed thickly, and she just knew he was standing there counting his breaths to calm himself down. She needed to get him out of here, get him relaxed. 

“Come on, let’s go home for the night. I’ve already got Baby all packed up and ready to go. All you have to do is get some sleep, and put some open road under her wheels in the morning. For tonight though, let’s just try to get some sleep. Okay?”

Dean nodded, allowing her to lead him through the shop and out the door to where her car was waiting. She’d dropped Dean off at the shop this morning, so that he could work while she did the stressful packing part. 

They were only going to be gone for a week, and a good portion of that trip was going to be driving. Dean and Sam were somewhat getting along. Their relationship was still undoubtedly a little tense. Maybe it always would be. Still, they were at least talking and not arguing, and that was a step. That didn’t mean that Dean wanted to be trapped for days in Austin with Sam and Eileen in a two-bedroom, one bathroom house though, so they were only going to stay for about two days with them before they headed back. 

“Have you talked to Sam?” Y/N questioned as they both clambered into her ride. Dean’s eyes still had that look about them. So, she was doing all she could to at least get him talking. Get him focused on the conversation and not whatever lies or horror show his head was telling him. 

“He’s called four times today,” Dean revealed. “I think they’re a little excited that we’re coming, and I think he’s kinda scared that I’m going to change my mind.”

“You need this trip Dean. You need to get away for a while, see your family,” Y/N insisted as she pulled onto the main road headed towards home, the street lights now on overhead, lighting the way in the twilight of the evening. There were kids playing out in their yards. Dads and moms sitting on porches and dogs running about. It was a suburbia paradise, almost picture perfect, and she’d love to know what Dean thought of it all really as she watched his pale green orbs dancing over the scenes playing out in front of him.  

“Sammy and I were forced to spend the majority of the better part of our lives together,” Dean said after a moment. “You’d think he’d be sick of me by now.”

Y/N snorted as she turned onto their road. She never would get over how Dean could just be flat out honest sometimes. No remorse, nor filter. 

“I’m sure by the time two days are up he will be ready to get rid of us,” Y/N chuckled to herself. 

“Did you pick up my meds from the pharmacy? We won't have time to stop and get them before we leave tomorrow,” Dean said suddenly, worry strung thick in his voice. He didn’t have to take the pain medication often, especially since he was a lot more active now, and had built a pretty good bit of his strength back up since the accident, but that didn’t stop him from worrying about sitting in a car for so long, and what that might do to him. 

“I did Dean, it’s all in your duffle bag right where you can find it,” Y/N assured him as she placed the car in park in front of their house. She turned to look over at Dean, and she could tell he was over tense just by the way he seemed to gnaw at his teeth. 

“Dean, I can literally see you stressing,” Y/N told him, and he chuckled to himself as he finally looked at her. 

“What can I say? I worry a lot in my old age,” Dean teased, but she could tell that his smile still wasn’t reaching his eyes. It wasn’t a good day for him, and she was kicking herself for not going and picking him up from work a lot sooner. 

This is the part people don't talk about often when it comes to traumatic injuries. Sure, you might survive, and even regain some sense of a normal life back. They don’t talk to you about the shit that your mind won't let you heal from. The mental scars that won't go away.

“You’re not old Dean,” Y/N insisted. “You’ve successfully aged well past what you were intended to. You’ve accomplished the age you’re at now, and that’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Dean’s hand raised  continuously  brushing at the light beard on his face, especially over the gray hair that was scattered there. Dean didn’t like them so much, Y/N on the other hand could help but think that the older the man got the hotter he got, so therefore she didn’t mind them at all. 

“Too old to get you pregnant apparently,” Dean affirmed with a tired, half smile. 

Her heart sank like a rock in her gut. So much so that it stunned her;  she instantly wanted to cry. Once again, as she’d done so often with Dean from time to time, she’d totally and completely misread the situation. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to leave the house and the shop, at least not all of it. Some of it was that he didn’t want to meet his nephew because even though the pair of them had been sexually active for a smidge over a year, Y/N still hadn’t gotten pregnant. 

“Is that what this is about?” Y/N stuttered dumbly, still somewhat in shock. Dean just grimaced, and opened the car door. 

“It’s nothing Baby, forget I said anything. I need to go take a shower; I’m beat—”

“Dean!” Y/N said a little louder, catching his attention;  he froze in his tracks, bending down to look back at her after looking over the roof of the car at the neighbor's house. 

“Not here sweetheart, please, let’s talk about this inside.”

There was a seriousness in his voice that left zero room for argument, so she numbly climbed out of the car, once again, feeling as if she absolutely failed the man she loved, and she hated that. 

Dean unlocked the front door to their home, and stepped aside to let her in first before quickly following suit and closing the door behind them. 

“Listen, Y/N,” Dean voiced quickly before Y/N could even get a word out. “I don’t want to argue, please. I just can’t, not about this, okay? I didn’t mean anything by it. I spoke out of turn, it was stupid, and I’m sorry. It’s not even something we’ve talked about… well at all, and I really, really, don’t want you to be upset with me.”

“Dean, I’m not upset with you,” Y/N corrected him quickly, grabbing his hand before he could either run away upstairs, or before he could get uncomfortable and totally deflect the situation. “Hey, look at me. It’s not your fault that I’m not pregnant, or haven’t gotten pregnant Dean. It has nothing to do with your age whatsoever. It doesn’t even have anything to do with your accident.”

“I know we weren’t actively trying Y/N, but I’m not an idiot. We haven’t exactly been preventing it either, and by now it looks like—”

“Dean! Would you stop it! I’m on birth control, you dork!”

Dean’s eyes bulged almost comically out of his head, and his jaw shut tight with his teeth giving an audible click that seemed loud in the suddenly quiet room. 

“You’re right, we weren’t really trying, but I’ve been on birth control to regulate my cycles since I was a teenager. When I was a hunter, it was a hell of a lot more convenient to KNOW when you were about to menstruate when you were hunting monsters that can literally smell blood. I’ve been on it so long, that I just continued taking it. We never really talked about having kids, at least we hadn’t  seriously talked about it, and had I known that you wanted kids… Dean, I would have stopped taking it a year ago.”

Dean said nothing, just blinked at her before stumbling off towards the kitchen table where he  sat down heavily; the sound of the kitchen chair scraping across the floor echoed off of the walls and made her flinch. Her gut dropped even further;  her feet felt as if she weighed a thousand pounds as she slowly made her way towards him, as though he was going to explode or something. 

She didn’t know what he was at that moment. Mad? Hurt? Sad? Relieved? Shocked was an obvious one. She felt terrible! She never really thought about it, but now that she knew HE wanted kids, hell, she’d LOVE to have a little Dean Jr  running around. It wasn’t something she was opposed to at all; just something she didn’t think Dean ever wanted. 

As if she were dealing with an angry Viper, Y/N sat down across the table from Dean slowly, who was staring blankly at the wall, an unreadable expression on his face. 

“Dean?” Y/N tried, her own voice trembling in the silent room. “Please say something…”

“You didn’t—you didn’t tell me you were taking birth control,” he said after a long pause, and Y/N felt as if there was something holding onto her throat and squeezing the life out of her. “Why? Why didn’t you say something?”

Y/N looked down at the table, picking silently at a rogue piece of salt that sat on the dark wood from where they’d eaten lunch earlier that day. If she felt horrible before, she felt even worse now.

“When we first got together, you had been hurt really, really bad. My sole focus became getting you healthy and where you needed to be. We didn’t even know at the time if a physical relationship was even possible and—”

“And we’ve been having sex for a year Y/N, a fucking year! You never thought that… ‘you know he’s not pulling out or bothering to put a goddamn condom on, maybe I should tell him I’m taking birth control!’

Y/N visibly flinched, she couldn’t look up at him, but she could feel his gaze burning holes into the side of her face. He kinda had a point, but she never thought of it, she really didn’t. She was far too focused on other things. Like making sure he was comfortable;  not in pain and trying to cover it up the way he liked to do. 

The loud, obnoxious sound of the chair moving across the floor made her flinch again;  she jumped as he knelt down next to her, moving her  chair to face him as if she weighed nothing at all, still, she couldn’t look at him, and she didn’t really understand why she wouldn’t defend herself on the matter. Why couldn’t she respond  when ultimately; it was her body, and her choice as to whether or not she wanted to carry and have a child. So why was she so upset over the fact that he was upset that she didn’t tell him she’d kept taking birth control? It was a silly thing really. It wasn’t like she was hiding it from him or didn’t tell him on purpose, she just seriously didn’t think about telling him. 

“Hey,” he said after a moment, his voice much, much softer than it had been a moment ago, which gave her enough boldness to glance up at him, even though she felt like her heart was in a vice and at any moment her chest was going to cave in on itself. 

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I shouldn’t have lost it like that. I should have talked to you instead of just assuming. I didn’t  have any right to yell at you. You know I suck at communicating. I just assumed that you weren’t on anything, and that I was the problem, which made me not talk about it because it’s embarrassing, and—”

Dean took a deep breath and ran his hand down his face again, struggling with his own emotions as she watched him in silence. For some reason, she couldn’t make the choke hold on her throat let go enough for her to speak, or even to confront him about it. Why did that hurt the way it did? She might never understand that one. 

“If you don’t want to stop taking the pills I understand. I wouldn’t want to have kids with me either. I should have asked you instead of just assuming and taking matters into my own hands. That was stupid. You won’t hear another word about it from me. I’m sorry I yelled at you. I’m gonna leave you alone now, and go take a shower, because I don’t know what to say to make the way I act better. I’ll be in our room unless you want me to sleep in the office.”

Dean gave pause for a moment, his green orbs searching her face, but only sighed as he stood to his feet with some effort, leaning down to kiss her on the top of her forehead, allowing his lips to linger there as he did so before he made his way out of the kitchen, and up the stairs. 

That’s when she allowed the tears she’d been holding onto in front of him to fall. 

He’d never done anything in the over a year they’d been together to hurt her. He’d never raised his voice at her. They’d never really even got in a fight. Hell, he just relented and apologized as soon as it happened, that was a big step for Dean, so why on earth did it feel like he just slapped her in the face, shattered her heart, and then tossed it on a burn pile?

Forever:

@bubsonnobx​​​​

@britnwinchester​​​​​​​​​​​

@samanddeaninatrenchcoat​​​​​​​​​​

@wittysunflower

@demongirl1996​​​​​​​​​​​  

@as-lost-as-sams-shoe​​​​​​​​​​​

@jensenslady79​​​​​​​​​​​

@spnwoman​​​​​​​​​​​

@stoneyggirl2​​​​​​​​​​​

@unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men​​​​​​​​​​​

@stixnstripesworld​​​​​​​​​​​

@fullwattpadmusictree​​​​​​​​​​​

@nancymcl​​​​​​​​​​​

@christycreature​​​​​​​​​​​

@whiskey-infused-dreams​​​​​​​​​​​

@supernatural79impala​​​​​​​​​​​

@deandreamernp​​​​​​​​​​​

@forgetthisbull​​​​​​​​​​​

@miraclesoflove​​​​​​​​​​​

@slamminmine​​​​​​​​​​​

@deanwanddamons​​​​​​​​​​​

@rvgrsbrns​​​​​​​​​​​

@chevyharvelle​​​​​​​​​

@i-love-superhero-movies​​​​​​​​​​​

@lyss-dw79​​​​​​​​

@magssteenkamp​​​​​​​​​​​

@lemondropirwin​​​​​​​​​​​

@squirrelnotsam​​​​​​​​​​​

@hobby27​​​​​​​​​​​

@spnbaby-67​​​​​​​​​​​  

@mrsjenniferwinchester​​​​​​​​​​​

@defenderrosetyler​​​​​​​​​​​

@thecreatiivecorner​​​​​​​​​​​  

@vicmc624​​​​​​​​​​​

@busy-bee-angel-misska​​​​​​​​​​​

@justanotherwinchester​​​​​​​​​​

@brilovesdeanwinchester​​​​​​​​​​

@idksupernatural​​​​​​​​​​​

@lyarr24​​​​​​​​​​​

@emoryhemsworth​​​​​​​​​​​

@dean-winchesters-gardian-angel​​​​​​​​​​​

@flamencodiva​​​​​​​​​​​

@itmejado

@thoughts-and-funnies​​​​​​​​​​​

@teresa-67​​​​​​​​​​​

@hearteyes-j2​​​​​​​​​​​

@peaches007​​​​​​​​​​​

@bobbie3939​​​​​​​​​​​

@vulgar-library​​​​​​​​​​​

@writercole​​​​​​​​​​​

@fairlyspnfanfic​​​​​​​​​​​

@sexyvixen7​​​​​​​​​​​

@spngi​​​​​​​​​​​

@b3autyfuldisast3r​​​​​​​​​​​

@donnaintx​​​​​​​​​​​

@maliburenee​​​​​​​​​​​

@the-family-business67​​​​​​​​​​​

@agirlwithdemonblood​​​​​​​​​​​

@captainsoldiergirl​​​​​​​​​​​

@twinkleinadiamondsky​​​​​​​​​​​

Jensen and Dean’s Babes

@deans-baby-momma​​​​​​​​​​​  

@impalaslytherin​​​​​​​​​​​

@perpetualabsurdity​​​​​​​​​​​

@msmarvelouswinchester​​​​​​​​​​​

@akshi8278​​​​​​​​​​​

@love-jackles​​​​​​​​​​​

@irmcpar​​​​​​​​​​​

@pink-sparkly-witch​​​​​​​​​​​

@deans-spinster-witchs-favorites​​​​​​​​​​​

@herstarburststories​

@mimaria420​​​​​​​​​​​

@deanwinchesterswitch​​​​​​​​​​​

@charred-angelwings​​​​​​​​​​​

@pascal-rascal424​​​​​​​​​​​

@myloversgone​​​​​​​​​​​

@fortheloveof-jackles​​​​​​​​​​​

@eevvvaa​​​​​​​​​​​

@bts-spnlvr12​​​​​​​​​​​

@jxackles

@lassie-bird​​​​​​​​​​​

@samsgirl93​​​​​​​​​​​

@shawnie74​​​​​​​​​​​  

@kaz11283​​​​​​​​​​​

@mlovesstories​​​​​​​​​​​

@ladysparks78

@sarahgracej​

[grapenehifics]

something i love about solsbury hill is how at the end of it all, theyre both still in their 20s. They've got so much life ahead of them to live and love each other! :)

BABIES, the both of them. I know they're both on their second marriage and are raising three children one of whom is already in high school but they are BABIES and they get SO much time together to learn from and with one another and travel and experiment and try new things and quit other things and support each other and love each other through all the hard stuff and all the good stuff and some stuff they or I can't even imagine yet.

I've got various things imagined for their future - simple stuff like Anakin teaching the twins to ride bikes without training wheels, and big stuff like Obi-Wan doing what they talked about and transitioning to teaching full-time. I thought about Anakin taking a step back from working at the shop and finishing his bachelor's - I thought it would be cute if he and Ahsoka were going to college at the same time, and Ahsoka, like any normal college student, would be very embarrassed by her father waving wildly across the quad at her and bringing her lunch when she forgets, and even more embarrassed when having to explain to her new friends that yes, that twenty-nine-year-old man is her dad, and please could you stop making eyes at him because he's very married.

Anakin starts making extra money on the side by buying classic cars in pieces and Frankensteining them back together and selling them to collectors. He refurbs an Austin Healy Sprite and Obi-Wan has such heart eyes any time he looks at it - even though he won't admit he likes it and insists (correctly) that it's totally impractical for their family and they have no room to store it - that Anakin claims to have 'sold it' only turns out he just bought it right back, slapped a giant bow on it and gifted it to Obi-Wan, who (after enumerating to Anakin all the varied ways in which this is a bad idea) drives his husband up to Makeout Point and fucks him over the driver's seat.

(Anakin's like that? That's your dream car? Weird choice babe but I support you in every way and I will continue to source obscure parts for you and keep that car running with my dying breath if it will make you happy. I will even drive a station wagon to make up for the fact that we are a five-person family and your car can only seat one passenger and is totally useless anytime it so much as drizzles.)

[smilingformoney]

To Dad, From Abbie: Part 1/3

Summary: Dad Snape | Father's Day 1994.

Read on Ao3 or below the cut:

Sunday, 19 June 1994

Severus had spent most of the morning in his study already, and it was only 8am. He had received the timetable for next year, and was setting out for himself which potions worked best for each class according to when they were scheduled. To his dismay, he had the Gryffindor/Slytherin fourth-years last thing on Friday. That meant he would be exhausted from the week when dealing with Potter - and he’d have to wait all week to see Abigail.

The thought caught him by surprise. They were only two weeks into summer, but he had to admit he had already enjoyed it much more than any previous summers since he began teaching. Abigail’s presence had been surprisingly pleasant, and he dreaded the day he would have to return to Hogwarts in two months’ time.

At some point in the morning, the door opened and Abigail brought in some breakfast for him, as had become her habit. He never asked for it, and she never offered - it had simply become habit. At first he had resisted, but he soon discovered her cooking was just as excellent as her potion-making, and he allowed himself the pleasure of the food she brought him each morning.

Once she had left the room, Severus looked up at the plate, and noticed something strange - a bundle of letters sat atop the tray, next to the plate of avocado on toast.

He picked them up curiously. There were ten in total.

The first envelope, he noted, looked rather old; towards the bottom of the pile, the envelopes appeared newer.

His heart froze momentarily when he looked at the first envelope. It was addressed simply Dad in large, childish handwriting.

He looked at the next envelope. That, too, was addressed to Dad in a child’s script. Further through the pile he looked, and discovered they were all the same, all addressed to Dad and all in a similar handwriting, becoming progressively neater, until he recognised the handwriting to be the same as he had seen in Abigail’s homework.

His curiosity getting the better of him, Severus opened the first envelope. It was a folded piece of card, adorned with a crude stick figure of a man, next to a much smaller stick figure of a girl. Inside, the almost unreadable handwriting read:

To DaD Frum Abi (4)

He stared at it for a long moment. He didn’t even realise there was a tear in his eye as the realisation dawned on him.

Four… through to thirteen. Ten envelopes, ten years.

She had a Father’s Day card for every year since she could write, waiting for the day she met him.

Severus looked through each card with care. The drawings became progressively better, although still poor; by the age of six, she had finally learnt how to spell her own name; and at the age of nine, she stopped drawing the cards and instead bought them, but still the inner message bore her script.

The message was always simple. To Dad, From Abbie, followed by her age.

At eleven - a few months before she began Hogwarts - the message was a little longer.

To Dad, Yesterday I asked Mum what your name is. She said she doesn’t know but I think she lied. From Abbie (11)

Another message the following year:

To Dad, I wish I knew you. From Abbie (12)

Severus hesitated before opening the final card. Thirteen. This year.

He took a deep breath. It was only a card, just ink on a page. A silly thing to fear, and yet here he was, his stomach twisted into an anxious knot.

Inside, the card read:

To Dad, I’m glad I know you. From Abbie (13)

He stared at the words for a long, frozen moment. I’m glad I know you. Her father was Professor Snape, her mean and nasty Potions professor. The overgrown bat of the dungeon, the greasy git who everybody hated. There couldn’t have been a worse person to turn out to be her father.

And yet… these were the words she had written. I’m glad I know you.

He gathered up all but the last card, returned them to their envelopes, and placed them in a drawer. The final card, this year’s card, he placed on a bookshelf just in his line of sight, so that he might look up and see it as he worked.

He ate his breakfast, reflecting on all he had seen. All these years, she had been waiting for him, wondering who he might be. And now she knew… and yet, she wasn’t disappointed.

I’m glad I know you.

Once he was finished eating, Severus stood and picked up the card to look at it again, just to ensure he hadn’t imagined it. No, there it was, in the same font he might read about the properties of moonstone - I’m glad I know you.

He placed the card on the shelf again, then took his plate into the kitchen. Abigail was there, sitting at the table, reading her Charms textbook.

With a wave of his wand, the plate cleaned itself, and Severus turned to leave again. He paused at the doorway.

“Abigail?” he said softly.

She looked up at him.

“For what it's worth… I’m glad, too.”

She smiled.

He turned away, and returned to his study.

[chilled-ray]

A Rant About Store Hours

I checked Google and saw that AJ Newsagents was open until 9 pm. At 8:30, I left my flat.

It was raining lightly. Not the nicest weather to be out in, but I wanted to get this errand taken care of.

As I approached the shop, I could see the shutter rattling downwards over the blue storefront. I ran the last ten metres, then quickly reached down and rapped my knuckles on what was still exposed of the door. (About eighteen inches at this point, but the shutter kept rolling noisily downward until it hit the ground.)

I checked my phone -- it was 8:38 pm. I could bang on the shutter and be an asshole, but (a) it wasn’t an emergency and (b) I’m not an asshole. It’s a small business and maybe they don’t keep their Google hours updated.

I returned home full-handed (which is like empty-handed when your intended errand is to drop off a parcel), which meant another six blocks of walking through the rain.

The next day, I made another trip to AJ Newsagents for a second attempt at the same task. Once again, it was raining. But at least it was daylight this time.

After the fellow behind the counter scanned my item, I asked, “What time do you close on weeknights?”

He asked me to repeat myself three times. I know for a fact I enunciate clearly, and I even changed the wording once or twice in case it was the phrasing that was difficult to understand – I tried “How late is this store open” and something else. Maybe it was my mixing up the wording that kept throwing him off, but I had a feeling the hearing problem might have been partially due to the headphones he wore in both ears.

Finally, he got it. “Nine,” he answered. Pause. “Eight to nine.”

“Oh, you close between 8 and 9?” If closing time was somewhere within a particular range, depending on how busy the shop was each night, I could understand that. There are bars that observe such practices, and when I used to work as a barista, there were some nights we closed a little early or continued serving a little late. If there are no customers for long spans of time, it would be stupid for a business to continue to pay employee wages and electricity for zero income.

But – “No,” said the man. “We are open from 8 in the morning until 9 at night.”

“Well,” I reported, “Last night I was here at 8:40 and the shutter was down.” I have worked in customer service for 17 years, am gentle by nature, and will never throw a fit, so this is the most argumentative I get.

The man scoffed audibly. “Psh. 8:40, 9:00, same thing.” His tone was irritated and self-righteous. What a fool I was, huh?

Now I was angry, because that is fucking bullshit. If the store’s hours had been different than the online listing, and Google was simply wrong, I would not have minded. If the bloke had told me that sometimes they chose to close early when it was slow, I would have been only slightly irked but not held anything against them.

But for this guy to ridicule me for expecting them to be open at twenty to nine, and say that 8:40 was “the same thing” as 9:00? I had even been giving him the benefit of the doubt. It had been 8:38 when the shutter rolled down that night.

But I only bristled silently, turned, and left. As I stepped out through the doorway, I thought I heard the schmuck mutter under his breath, “8:40.”

I fumed internally as I walked back up Whitecross Street, Old Street, St Luke’s Close, Mitchell Street, and Bartholomew Square. It was still raining. I counted in my head – two trips there and back meant that I had walked twelve blocks in the cold and wet to complete one simple errand, in addition to being subject to derision.

[stargazers-telescopes]

She's a runner, She's a Trackstar

PT. 2

Many an evening she and Hardin walked to a cafe after she finished track and Reya finished her calligraphy classes.

“I had another Mara problem today”

Hardin barely looked up from his phone, ‘oh?’

Arya all but in one breath said, “I booked the outdoor track for the girls team after discussing it with Dennis who told me he wanted the indoor tracks for his boys… but Mara went to coach and said the girls haven't been hitting their running exercises enough, after I told the team that we were going to be running today”

“And?”, 

“And so what happened then”

“Well then I took the girls out to run after a bit of another public showdown with her and she told me that I should have told her that I did this so that she did not make that mistake but like why should I tell her? I put it on the track group chat last night after talking to the boys team’s captain and-’

“Ari. Did you finally run on the outdoor track-”

“Yes, we-”

“Is anyone questioning your validity as the team captain?

Arya replied hotly, “No, but-”

Hardin very wisely put it across, “you let her get under your skin Ari. If you stopped caring she would stop antagonizing you because she will stop getting the satisfaction of your reactions”

“Bro, It's not that simple-”

“It literally is. And the fact of the matter is, the rest of your team adores you. SO what if you had one upstart? And it's not like your coach entertains her drama, so, why are you so worked up? Be dismissive of her, maybe it will get into her cockroach brain that she is in fact a cockroach.”

Arya snickered. Cockroach indeed.

Hardin Sato was a storm of a human being concealed behind a lean, unassuming exterior. Arya and Hardin started off as bitter enemies in the third grade. Arya’s unruly and boisterous attitude contrasted Hardin's soft spoken and modest one. But his sharpness made up for it, and they hated each other with all their little nine-year old hearts.

 If Arya could be seen as a tigress, hot-tempered and claws out, Hardin was a bit more like a viper, Quick, fast and just as lethal. Forced to sit together by their elementary school  teacher, the children one day called a truce when Hardin decided to compliment one of Arya’s doodles. And, Arya in turn told Hardin how much she liked his singing voice at music period. And the rest was history. A few weeks in they became inseparable.

Arya silenced herself kicking a rock on the pavement as they walked off. A little later, she muttered something under her breath.

“I'll tell your mother you’re mumbling again”, Hardin warned her.

“Mara also has the hots for brandon…’, She grumbled, her usually bright nut-brown eyes looking dimmed’

Hardin had the grace to finally show her some sympathy, “c’mon Ari you know can't control that-

“If I could I would’. Hardin rolled his eyes at his friend's nonsense reply, already knowing he's lost Arya to her own childish thoughts.

They entered the cafe, the door jingling, signaling their arrival. Arya, a little calm after ranting, was hit by a dozen different sensations.

The smell of buttery pastries and sugary confectioneries wafted into her nose which made her stomach growl. Arya, however, noted that her wallet was almost as empty as her stomach and she would rather have coffee than eat, because life as a student-athlete was not as fun as it sounded. Often forgoing sleep to keep up with the work the rest of her peers did in the time she ran. Hardin had kept telling her that her grades don't matter as much as they would for someone who wasn't in her position, but she was far too stubborn to listen. Thus she had no one to complain to when the consequences of her actions became this amalgamation of horrors she was presented with. She had no one to blame but herself. 

She was hit by a blast of AC. Which sent her into goosebumps because her jersey was at the dry cleaners, not washed after several months. Her mother practically wrenched the red and white garment from her to give for a professional deep cleaning because, “God alone knows when was the last time it was cleaned and god alone knows when is the next time it will be clean and god alone knows what that poor jersey has been through.”  Hardin was still lecturing her as she zoned back into her friends words, rubbing her exposed arms to get some warmth

“Just understand that he-

A deeper, familiar voice cut through the cafe to them

“ARYA!” Brandon Ashford yelled from a corner booth.

“Speak of the devil’, Arya whispered to her friend, as she gave him a small wave.

They both got their coffees and went to brandons table. And he wasn't alone. He was with his friend, Reya Chang, a small, petite girl who had a sweet smile and bright almond eyes but nearly always looked like she wore shirts two sizes too big for, which Arya believed to be the actual case because finding clothes in her size must have been difficult. He was the school’s star violinist and she looked like it too. She was famous for getting accepted into Julliard in the middle of her senior year because she was a prodigy. It was almost comical for Arya to see her tall, lanky friend stand colossal next to her even though she was the one seated. She took note to make fun of him later.

��And the boys two sat opposite each other which annoyed Arya further because Hardin giving her a quick smug glance took a seat beside Reya. Arya slid in next to Brandon making sure to leave at least one foot of distance between them so that this already minimal distance between them could not distract her further. This did not work because Brandon immediately put his arm around her shoulder pulling her closer, which effectively shut off all coherent thought in her brain.

Her eyes darted about looking everywhere trying to think of words before she took her hot coffee cup to her cold hands. At least her hands would get warm.

“Oh my god, Arya, you’re freezing, where's your jersey?” Brandon said in surprise rubbing her cold shoulders.

“Mom sent it to the dry cleaners, it hasn't been washed in awhile”, she mumbled, hiding her face.

“Take mine”, he said, shrugging his off.

“NO, I mean, I couldn't I, I just finished practice my sweat has dried on me”

Hardin started snickering at her awkwardness from across the table. Trust her to fumble when things related to Ashford have been working in her favor. She glared at him.

Brandon ignored her protests and draped his jacket over her shoulders. Instantly she was shielded from the cold.

“Ohhh, I needed that, thank you”, she sighed in relief. Ashford’s grip tightened on her shoulders as though to further squeeze warmth into her. It was at this point Ari stopped functioning all together. 

“So, Ash, any plans for the Winter Prom?" Hardin asked him subtly, but Arya knew he was just trying to piss her off. Hardin's elbows were on the table and he was looking rather intently at ashford. So, she took it upon herself to kick his shins really hard from under the table. His knees hit the bottom of the table , causing the cups to shudder. He gave her the look, which said, I'm going to push you till your limits. 

“Ah… well, nothing as of now, if Reya and I don't find dates by then, we’ll probably end up going with one another-”

Reya interrupted, “If I had to go with Ash, I would rather sit at home and practice Bartok”, she scoffed.

Ashford shrugged his shoulders. 

“Nobody gets your music references Chang-

Hardon interrupted him. “Actually that was pretty funny. I play the piano. I get it, ‘s funny,,,” he trailed off.

And then the most unexpected thing happened. Hardin asked her out.

“Well, I could take you if you’re okay with it”, Hardin said nonchalantly  

Reya turned pink and was silent for a couple of seconds. It seemed everyone felt the random awkwardness of this random promposal. All, except for Hardin who continued to sip his beverage.

She picked up her bag. Her soft voice sounded, “Okay, that sounds good I'll text you later, Sato”, she said and took off from the cafe.

The silence was heavy.

“Well…”, Brandon cut in. “That was quite something. 

“Uh huh”, Arya agreed, then, looking her friend dead in the eyes.

 “YOU HAD A THING FOR CHANG AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME??”, 

“IF I TOLD YOU THE WHOLE SCHOOL WOULD HAVE FOUND OUT BECAUSE YOU CAN'T STOP YAPPING”, Hardin yelled back.

“THAT'S SO MEAN, I DO NOT GOSSIP HARDIN SATO”

“I DIDN'T SAY YOU WERE A GOSSIP. I'M SAYING YOU CAN'T STOP YAPPING”

“Okay well… I feel hurt. I tell you everything.”, she sulked and slid into her seat.

“Relax, I would just rather her go with me than not go at all, the fact that she's cute and pretty and smart definitely helps.”, he blushed slightly. 

Arya grinned sinisterly. “Oh my GOD, you so have a crush on her”

“This is why I didn’t tell you-

Brandon Ashford interrupted them. “Guys I’m still here, we are still in a public space. And thank you Sato. There goes my backup for the winter prom”

“She wasn't going to go with you in anycase, Ashford”, Hardin rolled his eyes. 

“If I gave her all my money for the next month she would have”

“That's just pathetic man, but like…don’t you have anyone you want to take?” Hardin asked him slyly.

“I do…but I’m not sure yet…”, Brandon answered cryptically, glaring at the sandwich in front of him.

“Who’s not sure about whom they like? Also, has your sandwich offended you in some way?”

“I'm just… not making any rash moves at the moment. It's only november… I have about two months left. 

“Final year Brandon. Time will fly before you know it and you’ll be stuck without a date”

“pffffft” , he blew off Hardin. 

“Well. I'm leaving right now. Might just catch up to Chang. See ya Donkey”, he patted Arya’s head, “Ashford”, he nodded at the boy and left. 

“I better get going too”, Arya said hurriedly. “I have 7pm curfew”

Brandon Ashford quickly got up. “You live far? I’ll drop you home. It’s almost 7 right?”

“I live about 20 minutes from here, it's walking distance, Ash, don't worry’, Arya said as she started to take off his jacket.

“No wait keep it, also I dont live that far either we might as well go the same way”

“Okay..”

Arya and Brandon left the cafe and started walking towards her house. Arya couldn't have possibly thought that there would be a better end to her day than going for a walk with her crush.  

“So”, Brandon Ashford said as he walked beside her, “How’s the debate club doing? I haven't hijacked one of your meetings in awhile, on account of you know, swimming season”

Ari replied in surprise, “What? I'm sorry, I haven't been keeping track of your swim dates. They aren't even at the school right? I would have come to cheer”, 

“Don't worry about it Ari, I know you’re pretty busy with debate, speaking of which, you’re going to Preston Academy next week right?”

Ari chewed her lip, “Debate could be going better. It’s hard to keep the Middle School team intact during exam season, they keep skipping meetings and practices to study. But I think they’re geared up enough to compete decently at Preston. The teams that come first, second and third go to nationals. I'm hoping to at least make third place. I just go to supervise. 

“How do you manage track, debate and your schoolwork?” Ashford asked her with admiration.

Ari grinned at him raising an eyebrow, “I could ask you the same Ash, with swimming and astronomy”

“Touche”, he nodded his head.

 They fell into a comfortable silence and walked beside one another till Arya started fiddling at one of her backpacks. 

“Did you listen to the new XYZ album? They released one last week and I have not had the time to sit listen and disappear into the music”

“Isn't XYZ a KPOP band?’,

“Yes… why?”, she asked him defensively. Everybody but KPOP stans judged KPOP. And this really irritated her because how would you know you liked something unless you tried it? She never dissed anybody’s rap albums or EDM mashups which didn't suit her taste, so why should anybody else? Luckily there were quite a few XYZettes in her school and she had a nice little group. 

“Nothing Ari, it's just adorable”, he chuckled, “I didn't think you would be into KPOP it seems so opposite of you”

“What does that mean?”, she huffed, as she pulled out her earphones, trying not to freak out at the fact he said it was adorable. But, he was calling her tendency adorable, not her, and she willed herself to calm down.

“I'm not sure myself, I just did not think you were the type to heavily follow a band, KPOP or any genre”

Ari replied with a very straight face, “I love XYZ. I would forgo my life if it meant saving theirs. They are walking angels on this earth and we, mere mortals, do not deserve to be blessed by their angelic voices and presence”.

Her rant sent Ashford into a fit of laughter, who found her deadpan admiration very funny. And well, how could he not? Arya was a very funny girl. Ari held out an earpiece to him

“You will listen to this song”, she said rather threateningly. Brandon, who found this entire episode very amusing, popped the earphone into his ear and listened to Ari’s favorite song. Yep. Everything was in korean, but the tune and beat were nice and above all, Ari’s head was bobbing slightly like a chicken’s. He smiled because that seemed to make the effort worth it. 

Ari was thrilled over and beyond the moon that Brandon seemed to be enjoying XYZ, because what is better than your crush enjoying your favorite music?

What she did not see was that Brandon was smiling at her more than the song.

[looooooooomis]

FINAL GIRL | FIVE

You were his final girl.  And there was no chance in hell that anyone or anything was going to mess that up.

p a r t   five  |  t h e  c a b i n (part I)

masterlist here

pairing: Billy Loomis x f!reader word count:  5.6k (I’M SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY) warnings: s m u t (18 +!!!!!)

A/N: after 8 months of MIA, SHE’S BACK BABY!!! this is part 1 of 2 of our fav couple being at the cabin x next chapter will have soft moments I promise lmao 

You should have been paying more attention.

If you’d been paying more attention, you wouldn’t have had five sets of eyes currently watching your every move, waiting for an answer you didn’t have. Why had you thought it was a good idea to stay up as late as you had packing your overnight bag for the cabin? If you had gone to bed at a reasonable hour, you wouldn’t have been as braindead as you currently were and, if you hadn’t been braindead, you wouldn’t have wound up in whatever ring of hell you were currently stuck in as your friends stared at you as though you’d grown a second head.

You pleaded with your tongue to say anything, pleaded for your brain to register a decent enough lie to make this uncomfortable silence end but nothing came out of your mouth. Only a pathetic hum and a gusto of forced laughter.

You wanted to die.

It should have been an easy enough answer to what was an even easier question. One that you’d practiced answering for the last two days and yet, as the moment for the lie came and went, you were left scrambling like a fucking moron.

You didn’t dare look at Billy as Sid curled into his side knowing if you managed to catch his coffee-coloured stare, you’d only be met with something between terror and amusement as you royally shit the bed. So, instead, you did the next best thing. You replayed the question over and over again in your head until you were driven mad.

‘Are you up for a movie this weekend?’

It was a simple enough question, one you’d managed to decline easily enough but, as Tatum frowned and asked the one question you were expecting to hear, your mind went blank.

‘Why? What are you doing?’

The answer you were supposed to say: I have to babysit my cousin in Santa Rosa all weekend. The answer they got? Silence. Pure, awkward as fuck, silence.

“Earth to Y/N,” Tatum laughed, brows furrowing. “Are you alive?”

“Sorry,” you huffed out a quiet laugh and shook your head, “I barely slept last night, I’m braindead.”

While it wasn’t a lie, you were still on edge. You’d think after months of sneaking around with the asshole sitting in front of you that you would have chilled out a little more but not today. Maybe it was the nerves of a full weekend away with Billy Loomis as his girlfriend hosted a fucking movie night sans her boyfriend and best friend – but something was making you stumble over what should have been second nature to you.

“You feeling okay?” Sid, the angel she was, asked with a small frown. Your stomach twisted in the familiar way it always did when your sweet friend showed concern. Concern which you most definitely didn’t deserve. “You seem…off.”

It would have been so easy to confess your dark little twisted affair with Billy right then and there. To just open your mouth and let the truth of everything you’d been doing behind her back play out. But you knew it would break her heart and, more than that, you were a fucking coward.

“I’m fine, Sid,” you smacked on a small smile and leaned into your locker. You had one more class until you were home free. Free of your friends’ inquiring eyes, free of Biology, free of Woodsboro. If you managed to get through this incredibly uncomfortable moment. “And I would if I could, trust me. I have to babysit my little cousin in Santa Rosa.” You feigned disappointment with a small frown. You could see Stu’s lips tug up in mild amusement out of the corner of your eye. “She’s nine, so if I don’t come back on Monday, know that she annoyed me to death.”

Randy scoffed and casually threw his arm around your neck. “Every day I’m thankful I don’t have any snot-nosed kids in my family. Losing my weekend to babysit? I’d rather rot.”

Despite your guilt, you managed a small smile as you looked across at him. “I think the kid would rather you rot, too. You’d be a terrible babysitter.”

“She’s right,” Tatum smirked, “you’d show the kid one of your weirdo movies where a girl with big tits is running helplessly away from her killer. It’d scar the kid for life.”

“Or,” Randy mused, “prepare them for the real world. Put some hair on their chest and all that shit.”

“Furthering my point, Meeks, you’d be a shit babysitter.” You laughed. “But, yeah, I’ll be suffering at the hands of a nine-year-old, so you guys have fun without me.”

“How about you, lover boy?” Tatum asked, looking across at Billy. “Will you be joining us this weekend?”

You should have averted your eyes. Should have done anything besides wait, with bated breath, to see what Billy would say. Slowly, those brown eyes tapered over towards you just briefly before looking at Tatum. With a casual shrug of his shoulders, Billy shook his head and leaned into Sid. “Can’t,” he merely said, “I’m going up north with my dad. He wants to get some of his affairs in order or something, I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his hair. “All I know is I was promised free beer if I helped him. So, I’m helping him.”

If Sid caught onto his lie, her face didn’t betray her once. And, as she looked up at her boyfriend with doting eyes, you couldn’t help but feel that pang of shame slice into your gut once again. She believed him. She always believed him. Believed you. Regardless of how good it felt to have Billy, that shame of knowing just who it was unwittingly hurting in the process never dissipated.

“You sure you guys won’t need help?” Sid asked, further digging that knife of shame into your chest. “Besides this movie, I’ve got nothing else going on this weekend.”

“Real nice,” Randy teased. “She’d rather watch Billy’s dad punch away at a fucking calculator then sit down with her nearest and dearest.”

Billy ignored Randy entirely as he glanced down at the brunette. “I’m sure,” he affirmed, giving her a quick squeeze. “Enjoy the movie night. I’ll be there for the next one.”

He lied so effortlessly, so casually, that it should have unnerved you. But it didn’t. Because for as good of a liar Billy Loomis was, you were right here with him. This dangerous little game the two of you were playing was becoming second nature to you and for as much as it pained you to see Sidney get lied to, you couldn’t help yourself.

You loved Billy. Billy loved you. Right person, wrong time. Only rather than wait like you knew you should have, Billy’s glow was much too enthralling to miss. You were both moths to each other’s’ flames and no amount of guilt or shame was strong enough to outweigh the otherworldly affliction the two of you had for one another.

The bell signifying your final class rung out, snapping you out of your brief reverie as you blinked and focused on pushing Randy off of you. “Want to drive me to the bus station?” You asked him. “I don’t want to drive all the way to Santa Rosa, so I bought a bus ticket.”

“Tonight?” Randy considered it briefly before shrugging. “Sure, I guess. I’ve got a shift tonight at seven, though. When’s your bus leave?”

“Six thirty,” you lied, mainly doing this so that should anyone drive by your house this weekend and see your car still neatly parked in your driveway, they wouldn’t bat an eye. “I owe you.”

“Yeah, you do,” Randy agreed. “And, lucky for you, I accept a lot of different payment options.” He wriggled his brows, earning a playful smack from you and an annoyed glare from Billy. Thankfully, Randy didn’t catch onto the latter. “Pick you up at six?”

You nodded. “Perfect.”

With your eyes flickering to Billy’s once more, you managed to shoot everyone a quick smile before disappearing down the hall towards Biology. Just how you’d managed to dance your way out of what could have been an incredibly awkward moment, you didn’t know. But as you felt that weighty stare of Billy’s on your back as you walked away, there was an air of excitement that swallowed you whole.

No matter how much guilt you felt, no matter how sick it made you to see Sidney get hurt, even if she didn’t quite know about just yet, there was a much larger part of you that couldn’t wait to get Billy alone.

Because for the first time in the seven months since you’d started this torrid little affair, you were finally getting Billy all to yourself. No prying eyes, no secret kisses, no having to hide every part of your relationship with the man. None of that.

This weekend, it was you and it was Billy.

And you couldn’t fucking wait.

»»-------------¤-------------««

Randy, being the superstar he was, had dropped you off at the station a little after six-fifteen and by six-thirty-two, just around the time the actual bus was leaving for Santa Rosa, you were scrambling into Billy’s car with a wild grin on your face.

Just how the pair of you had managed to pull it off, especially given your brain lapse earlier in the day, was beyond you. But, as Billy tore off down the main street leading to the freeway, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of freedom engulf you the farther and farther you got from town.

It was exhilarating.

And, as you glanced at Billy, who couldn’t have looked more like a movie star with his dark locks blowing with the wind cascading in through his open window, you couldn’t help but reach across the divide to gently squeeze his jean-clad thigh.

“Thank you,” you found yourself muttering and as those brown eyes met yours, you couldn’t help but grin. “For your stupid key proposal. In hindsight, it was very sweet.”

The dimple in Billy’s cheek deepened as his own grin grew. “Glad you let me steal you away?”

You loosened your seatbelt momentarily and leaned across to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Very glad.” You made a move to pull away but stopped when he gently grabbed your chin with the hand not holding the wheel. “What—”

The kiss, while dangerously stupid, was short and sweet but the emotion behind it, the genuine happiness that exuded out of Billy in those few seconds was palpable. “I really do fucking love you, you know that?”

“You’ve mentioned it,” you hummed and slinked back into your seat. When his large hand found your thigh, he gave it a firm squeeze that sent shockwaves throughout your whole body.

“Not going to say it back?” He teased, giving you a sidelong glance as he drew nearer to the freeway.

“I’d rather show it.” Rather than put your seatbelt back on, you shimmed in your seat and leaned into him as your fingers scraped along his thighs towards the button of his jeans. “Eyes on the road, Loomis.”

Easier said than done, Billy thought, torn between watching the road and watching you unzip his jeans. Raising his ass out of the seat just long enough to allow you to tug his pants down his thighs, the second Billy saw yours eyes light up as his now somewhat erect cock sprung free of his jeans, keeping his eyes on the road seemed impossible. But, the second he saw that pretty mouth of yours perk up in anticipation, it was game over. “Are you trying to get us killed?”

A low chuckle escaped your lips as you began to pump his length with your hand. “Focus on the road, Billy.”

“You say that like it’s easy.” Not being able to keep his hands off of you, he reached for your nipple and gave it a pinch through your shirt. “Take your shirt off, baby.”

“Shut up and drive.” You chided him, shimming in your seat so that you were on your knees leaning over the console. His cock was rock hard now and, as you ran your tongue alongside his length, from the base of it all the way up to coax your tongue along the precum that had gathered along his head, you felt him shiver beneath you.

“Fuck,” he hissed, tangling his fingers through your hair. You were too fucking good with that mouth of yours.

Still pumping the base of his cock with one hand, you swirled your tongue along the tip of his dick again before taking that perfectly girthy cock in your mouth. His grip tightened on your hair and your eyes watered as he pushed your head down to fully take the length of him inside of your mouth. He heard you gag on him but even as his grip eased up, you continued your pursuit of deepthroating him.

His breathing was shallow as he felt your hot mouth all over him. Between the sounds of your wet mouth taking him in and the occasional gag as you choked on his length, Billy was in heaven.

But having you this close as you fucked him with your mouth whilst still fully clothed was killing him. He needed to feel you. He wanted to feel your juices on his fingers and running down those perfect fucking thighs as he fingerfucked you. He wanted to hear you moan, feel you moan on his cock as he made you feel as good as you were making him feel.

He wanted all of you, needed all of you.  

Trying his damnedest not to shut his eyes as your mouth brought him closer to the edge, he reached beneath you to work on your own zipper but when that proved to be impossible, a frustrated growl tore out of his lips. “Undo your pants.” He hissed through bared teeth.

You hummed against his dick which nearly sent him into the other land of traffic. “No,” you purred, “I want to make you feel good.”

With one hand on the wheel and the other now gliding up and down your back as you fucked him with your mouth, Billy couldn’t help but buck into your mouth as you began to massage his balls. He was going to bust and soon if he wasn’t careful.

You were too fucking good and he was too fucking in love with you not to get lost in the way you made him feel.

“Touch yourself, at least,” he breathed out, desperate to see that pretty cunt. “Please, baby.”

Not granting him the satisfaction, you simply dug your nails into his thighs and moaned onto his cock and the sensation of it alone was almost enough to make him come down your throat. It seemed to slither around his cock, making him twitch and buck into your mouth.

But it was the second you moaned out his name as you swirled your wet mouth along the head of his dick one final time, swallowing back his precum with a contented hum, that Billy blew his loud inside of your mouth.

For a good five seconds, he didn’t care if he crashed the goddamn car as he watched you swallow his seed. He was bucking into your mouth, his breathing was ragged, as you guzzled him back and, as you finally released his cock with a pop, Billy almost lost it.

With a devilish grin, you simply wiped a finger along the edge of your lips and leaned back into your seat with a satisfied glimmer in your eyes. You knew you’d be in for it once he got his hands on you at the cabin, but for now, as you watched him lamely try and pull his jeans up his body to cover his slowly softening cock, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“What’s the matter, Billy?” You teased, fastening your seatbelt back up. “You look a little rattled.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he simpered, not bothering with the zipper or button of his jeans. Instead, he reached across the divide and grabbed for your hand as he ghosted his lips across your knuckles. “Just wait until we get to the cabin.”

With your suspicions confirmed, you couldn’t help but beam across at him as you drove further and further away from Woodsboro. That was definitely a threat and good god were you excited for its execution.

»»-------------¤-------------««

By the time you’d pulled into the Loomis family cabin, it was pitch black outside.

The moon was too high in the sky and only a sliver of its light poked through the tall pine trees that surrounded the small house but, even with the low light surrounding you, the shadows that danced along the lake was enough to bring out a small smile as you quietly made your way out of the car. You didn’t need full sun to see the beauty surrounding you and the smell of the fresh air mixed with the spice of pine made any ounce of nerves filter out of you.

You were happy.

Unreservedly so.

Glancing across the roof towards Billy, he seemed almost distracted as he looked around at the familiar surroundings. You couldn’t quite tell if he was feeling as happy as you were in those brief moments, but you couldn’t quite blame him for that. The cabin held a lot of memories within it, many of which you knew included his mother. Where you felt freed and excited, you could tell the weight of his current whereabouts was heavy on his shoulders.

“Hey,” you muttered, slicing into the quietude around you. Walking around the front of the car, those brown eyes found yours as you circled your arms around his middle. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he assured, but his voice was low and distant. All the same, however, his strong arms enveloped you as he kissed your hairline. “Lost in a memory, I guess.”

You nodded into the crook of his neck but said nothing. He needed time to decompress, to familiarize himself with a house he hadn’t been in since his mother left. So, you’d give him that time.

For what must have been minutes, the two of you simply stood at the helm of porch holding onto one another. It wasn’t until Billy placed another quick kiss to your forehead that you felt his arms slowly fall only to grasp your hand in his own. “Come on,” he hummed. His grip on your hand was firm as he walked up the steps leading to the wrap around porch and as he stuck the key inside of the lock and opened the front door, the smell of cedar surrounded you.

The cabin was gorgeous. Wooden slats covered every square inch of the small house and a small fireplace sat at the front of the house with a worn-in couch and chair facing it. It was obvious nobody had come to visit for quite some time judging by the dust lining most of the countertops and shelving units, but you didn’t care.

To you, it was perfect.

Your own little oasis with the boy you loved without any sort of outside interruption.

You released his hand to take a brief look around the small living space but you could feel his eyes on you with every step you took. You knew he was looking to get even with you after your little stunt in the car, but you also knew that he hadn’t quite been expecting the swell of emotions to hit him upon driving up to the cabin. So, you continued to wander around the cabin to both grant him the space he may or may not have needed and, simply, to snoop around.

There were family pictures lining the tables and one in particular made you smile as you caught sight of a young Billy swinging from a tire swing. With a quiet laugh, you picked the frame up and surveyed it with a fond smile on your lips. “Cute,” you remarked, looking across to catch his stare. “A little model, eh?”

Billy watched you carefully place the frame down on the table before continuing on with your self-guided tour. No matter how hard he tried, regardless of the bittersweet memories swirling around inside of his brain, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Not that he ever really could, but there was an ease rolling off of you tonight, coming off of you in waves, that drew him in.

“I’ve been thinking about this all week, you know that?” He remarked, leaning against the back of the couch as he watched you pick up another picture frame. “Just me and you. Out here alone in the woods for an entire weekend.”

“Sounds like a scary movie when you put it that way,” you goaded with a wink. “Or a really niche porno.”

“Why not a bit of both?” His molasses coloured eyes glimmered mischievously as you walked up to him and stepped between his legs. The second you were close, he pulled you flush against his chest and kissed the tip of your nose as he pushed your hair back and away from your face. “Both could be fun.”

You grinned. “I’m down for anything,” you shrugged. “So long as you promise to take me on an actual date tomorrow. We’re not just fucking like bunnies inside of the cabin all weekend.”

“Heaven forbid,” he leaned in and gave you a slow, torturous kiss.

“I’m serious, Billy,” you moaned.

Pulling away from your mouth, Billy nudged his nose against yours and nodded. “The entire population in Bumfuck, California will know you’re my girl by the end of the weekend,” he avowed, skimming his hands down to your ass to give it a firm squeeze. “I promise.”

“Oh, yeah?” You hummed, kissing him again.

His calloused hands slipped beneath your shirt and scraped up your side. “Yeah.” Digging his hips into yours, he gave you one last kiss before nodding towards the bedroom. “Take your clothes off.”

You giggled as he slapped your ass to steer you down the narrow hallway. “And if I don’t?”

“I’ll rip them off of you,” he simply said, “so either they remain in one piece or I ruin your outfit.”

You glanced down at your jeans and tank before frowning. You looked cute tonight and you’d be damned if the bastard ripped them. So, being the good girl you were, you held his stare and slowly slinked out of your clothes. His eyes seemed so much darker as he watched you strip and the small smirk he wore slowly fell into a hungry thin line as you then perched yourself on the edge of the bed, completely nude.

“You just going to stand there looking pretty or are you going to do something about this?” You slipped your fingers between your thighs and ran your fingers along your swollen clit. A low moan slipped out of your lips at the sensation. “I’m already so wet for you, Billy.”

Slowly, Billy stepped towards you and undid his belt. Leaning down, he kissed you, hard, and steered you backwards on the bed beneath you until your head reached the soft pillows. You could feel his cock straining against his jeans but rather than grant himself any sort of reprieve, you watched him gently grasp your hands and raise them above your head only to wrap his belt around your wrists.

In the blink of an eye, you were tied to the bedposts.

“Is this payback for the car blowie?” You laughed, looking up at your restrained wrists. “If it is, I can’t say I’m mad about it.”

“You wanted something between a horror movie and a niche porno, remember?” He hummed against your skin, placing sloppy kisses along the vein that ran along your neck as he pinched your nipple. “God, you’re fucking perfect. You know that?”

He bit down on your collarbone, kissing his way down your chest until his warm mouth wrapped around your nipple. You could feel his teeth slither along your breast as his tongue lapped expertly on the sensitive bud. You hissed, arching into his mouth as your wrists, on instinct, fought for freedom. “Hardly.”

His eyes met yours as he slowly released your nipple. You were in nothing, of course, but he was still fully clothed, and you hated him for it. You hungrily eyed the bulge in his jeans as he propped himself up on his arm, letting his other hand glide up your chest and neck until it cupped your cheek. His nose brushed against yours, nudging it up to allow his lips to hover just over yours. Close enough that you could almost taste them, but much too far away to satisfy the hunger you had for the man.

“I love you,” he whispered, thumb stroking the apple of your cheek as his warm, brown eyes swallowed you up. “You know that, right?”

“Yes,” you swallowed hard and tilted your head up just enough to finally catch his lips. But, just as quickly as it happened, the man pulled away and let his hand begin to roam down your body. His mouth was at your ear now, nibbling at your earlobe as his hot breath slithered against your neck. You shivered. “I love you, too.”

His voice was gruff in your ear. “I’d kill for you,” his hand continued its journey down your throat, brushing past your nipple, down the length of your stomach until reaching the small smattering of hair along your mound. He was careful to keep his hands from dipping any lower, tormenting you as best to his ability, which just about killed you, if you were being honest. “You know that?”

Bucking your hips up, you nearly growled at the lack of attention you were receiving. You were soaked and touch-starved for him. His fingers, his mouth, the erection currently poking into your thigh, anything. “I wouldn’t ask you to do that,” you managed a quiet laugh. “But I appreciate it.”

His teeth bit down on your neck again. “But, I would. I’d do anything for you, sweetheart.”

His hand slipped further down to your sopping cunt and as he slowly slipped his fingers through your wet folds, the moan he got in return nearly killed him. “Billy,” you whispered desperately. It felt as though you were going to die if you didn’t feel him inside of you. “Please.”

His lips hovered over yours and on instinct, you caught his bottom lip between your teeth and bucked your hips against his hand. He snarled as you bit down on his lip but as the metallic taste of blood met his tongue, it was as though Billy was transcending. His pace on your clit quickened but it was still too slow for you and he knew it. He was torturing you, killing you, and he was enjoying every second of it. Struggling against the belt, your struggle was all for naught as it didn’t so much as move an inch.

“You’d love me, no matter what, right?” He asked, slipping one of his fingers inside of you as he kissed his way down to your chest. Lapping at your nipple, Billy was gentle at first before biting down hard enough to draw blood. Tit for Tat.

“Yes,” you moaned. Your entire body was on fire as his fingers brought you closer to the edge. “But I’d love you even more if you fucked me. You’re killing me, Loomis.”

Licking up the small trail of blood off of your tits, Billy hummed against your nipple and added another finger inside of your pussy. He’d fuck you soon but right now, he needed to feel your entire body light up the way it always had when he drove you into that fit of madness. You were a woman unhinged in the bedroom, he knew as much, and he knew exactly how to get that animal inside of you out.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he admired, reaching his hand up to coat your tit in your own slick. When it was sufficiently wet, he licked your juices off of your breast and growled. God, you tasted so fucking good. “You’re my girl, Y/N, you’re always going to be my girl, right?”

You looked up at him as those words fell from his lips. His brown hair hung down his forehead, his neck red from the strain of having to watch you writhe beneath him without doing a damned thing about it. But what struck you was the look of vulnerability in those brown eyes. That longing, far-away look as his eyes searched yours.

He wanted nothing more than to hear you say that you wanted him. Needed him. Just as much as he needed you.

“Always,” the answer tumbled out of your lips before you so much as thought twice. “I’m your girl, Billy.”

His mouth caught yours in a bruising kiss. Finally, his pace quickened inside of you as met your throbbing core with his dept fingers. With his thumb circling your clit, he dipped two fingers inside of you and grinned against your mouth as you let out a low, desperate moan.

It happened so fast after that. One moment, you were the one tied up on the bed and the next, he’d released you, stripped himself naked, and managed to flip you over so that you were the one on top of him, straddling his waist. Pulling away from you mouth, Billy’s eyes darkened as he saw that familiar glimmer in your eyes. That animalistic side of you was out in full force now.

“Get up here.” He demanded.

You smirked and leaned across him so that your lips hovered over his. “Why would I want to do that?”

He leaned up, the veins in his neck swelled against his neck as he caught your bottom lip between his teeth. “Get. Up. Here.”

Releasing your lip, Billy watched you smirk and crawl up the remainder of his body until your pussy was less than an inch away from his mouth. Grabbing onto the metal of the headboard you’d just been tied up to, you gasped as Billy’s tongue slid into your folds. Finding your clit instantly, you moaned and allowed your eyes to fall shut as you reached down to play with your hardened nipples.

Fuck, what Billy could do with his mouth should have been illegal.

He sucked and lapped at your clit as you rocked back and forth against his mouth. His fingers dug into your hips, so much so that you knew there would be bruises in the morning but, blinded by the pleasure between your thighs, you couldn’t care less.  

The moans that were coming out of you were raw and guttural and, as you played with your own tits, envisioning his hands being the ones to squeeze and nip on the swollen buds of your nipples, you saw stars.

“Fuck,” you moaned out, “Billy, baby, fuck.”

He pulled your hips further down so that you were sitting on his face. Not just hovering but sitting on that perfect mouth of his as he held you in place. You knew it must have been hard for him to breathe but he was adamant and as his tongue continued its assault on your throbbing cunt, you came devastatingly hard and incredibly loud.

Stars danced behind your eyes as you continued to ride out your orgasm. When you couldn’t take another second of Billy’s skilled tongue, you climbed off of him only to feel his large hands take hold of your hips again.

Swinging you around so that you were on your back and he was the one hovering over you, Billy wasted no time in slipping his rock-hard erection into your soaking pussy.

He was thrusting hard and the sounds of your juices squelching with every thrust of his cock would have been off-putting if it hadn’t been for the raw, primal need coursing off of the pair of you in waves. He was kissing your lips and biting them and suckling your neck as he continued to rail into you with all of passion in the world. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen him this riled up and you had to admit it was inherently sexy seeing him so affected by you.

Not surprising in the least, it didn’t take him long to come. You’d riled him up to the point of no return in the car and, as you felt him come inside of you, you all but laughed when he dramatically crashed on the bed beside you.

Sweat glistened over every inch of body and the sheen of your juices was still on his lips as he kissed you. This kiss was slow, methodical. Sweet. And you felt yourself fall even harder for the man as he broke the kiss and gently brushed your hair away from your now damp forehead.

Wrapping one arm around your chest, Billy held you against him as he propped himself against the headboard. You were both naked and sweating and while a shower was something you both definitely needed, neither of you found yourselves all too willing to move out of the other’s embrace.

“Is it hard being back here?” You asked, listening to his heart beating in his chest.

“For a second, maybe,” he admitted, soothing your hair down. “Not now.”

“What’s changed?” You asked with a small smile. “The sex was that good, huh?”

A quiet chuckle shook his chest as he kissed the top of your head. “I think horror meets niche porn is my new favourite genre.”

Kissing his naked chest, you grinned into his body. “Same.”

[dattebae]

TMG: Finding Cain (Ch. 1)

CHAPTERS: [1], [2]

(AO3 LINK)

Pairing: RK900 (Nines)/Female Reader

Word count: 9644

Rating: Explicit ( 18+ )

Warnings: Undercover antics, murder, mentions of drugs, prostitution, Nines struggling to feel nothing, NSFW

Note: So you guys were curious about Nines? Rightfully so. I had to write him his own little fic. I had to. P.S happy birthday! @cerberusdreams

Cain learned from a very young age that any successful project begins with a well structured plan. The reason he believed in that concept was simple: He was a breathing, living project himself, and his impeccable record was proof of how effective that construction was.

He’d only been four years old when he realized that he was different from his brothers and the rest of the kids at the orphanage. One day he’d found a chess board tucked away in the playroom, and he’d spent the whole day trying to figure it out. There was something incredibly interesting about a battle being fought within the barriers of rules, and Cain was quickly gathering victories after one of the caretakers taught him the game.

He could understand why the adults around him were so hesitant about what to do with him at that time. They spent their days teaching troubled kids how to think and behave, so when Cain did all of those things to perfection and even surpassed many with his outstanding intellect, they were a little lost. 

Despite his sharp memory, Cain could never really pinpoint when he met Amanda. The CIA somehow eased into his life in such a natural way that he barely noticed them. Amanda had always been around for as long as he could remember, and Cain’s one on one sessions with her became his normal early on. The older woman would observe him throughout various IQ tests adjusted to his level, and then she’d discuss them with him.

She wanted to know everything about his thought process, and the cognitive aspects of them as well.

At his young age, Amanda was never humble about praising him. She knew that confidence was an essential factor that would push him to do better, which seemed to be quite effective. The CIA were scouting for a new weapon: a genius with the strength of a beast, and Cain happened to be their perfect candidate. They had constructed a flawless plan out for him, and it would stretch over the course of his life.

“ Do you like to play games? ” Amanda asked.

The space they were in looked like an interrogation room for suspects, but Cain had never been scared of her or the dark, metallic interior. On the contrary, Amanda had taught him that room was the place where he got rewarded for his good behavior and cooperation. It was the place where he didn’t have to worry about his brothers or the rest of the world.

“ I like to play chess. ” Cain responded. 

He’d only been five years old, and his feet couldn’t reach the floor as he sat on the cold, hard chair. Amanda was sitting across from him by the table, and she gave him a smile.

“ Chess is good, ” She said, “ But today I would like to play a new game with you, Cain. ”

Cain tilted his head, blinking.

A new game?

“ Would you like to play with me? ” Amanda calmly asked.

“ I don’t know, ” Cain began, “ You haven’t told me the rules yet. ” 

Amanda clasped her hands together over the table, giving him a gentle smile. So far, Cain had checked every box on her list, and this little game they were going to play together would have an impact on the rest of his life.

“ The game is simple, ” Amanda began. “ I want you to play as a boy named Richard. ”

Logically, Cain could understand what she was saying. What he couldn’t grasp was the meaning or purpose of Richard. 

“ Richard is a nice boy. He lives with his brothers, he exercises regularly, goes to school and does his homework every night. He’s also respectful towards those who are older than him, and he cares deeply for those he loves. ” she explained. 

Cain nodded. That sounded easy enough.

“ Now, ” Amanda said, “ The only rule you have to remember is that no one but me can know that you are playing Richard. ”

Cain tilted his head again, but this time he felt a little unsure.

“ What if someone finds out? ”

Amanda studies him for a moment, a devious smile lingering on her lips.

“ Then you lose the game. ”

***

The CIA was prepared for most things, but a certain police lieutenant’s interest in Richard and his two brothers was not one of them. Hank was a stubborn man, and once he put his mind into something, it was hard to deter him. Amanda had been patient with him despite his insistent reasoning that the brothers should stick together in adoption, and after a meeting that stretched out over several hours, they finally came to an agreement. The CIA would allow Hank to adopt Richard along with his brothers under one condition: They would proceed their work with him as usual, and Hank wouldn’t interfere.

At first, Richard didn’t have much of an opinion when it came to Hank. He was a man with a strong presence, and he seemed to be driven by what he found to be right. With that said, Richard realized that the man was just as much a child at heart as he was a loyal cop. He began to find an odd intrigue in the lieutenant’s personality, and the way he managed to balance his duty with his private life. He seemed to be giving each son a treatment adjusted to their needs, which, in Richard’s own analysis, meant that the older man was both observant and dedicated.

Connor got used to him the easiest, and Sixty became dependent on his attention fairly quickly. Richard didn’t quite understand it. His brothers were too comfortable around the older man while he spent most of his time up on his bunk bed, observing everything from a safe distance. Most of it was Sixty and Connor’s normal banter and arguments over petty things, but Hank always managed to put an end to them. What surprised Richard the most was that Hank never forgot about him, despite his discreet presence. 

Hank would look up at him up on the bunk bed and ask him if he was okay. He’d ask Richard if he wanted to help him prepare dinner or join him for a walk with Sumo. Despite knowing fully well that Hank’s approach was merely a tactic to bond with him, Richard was somehow still impacted by his effort. The adults in his life had mostly seen him as an experiment: a wonderchild that was meant to be tested and pushed to new limits. But not Hank.

Hank saw a little boy, a son that he wanted to get to know and look out for, and it took Richard some time before he could see himself as those things. There was a sense of vulnerability that Richard felt around Hank, and it had everything to do with his secret. Hank knew about Cain and Amanda’s little game with him, and it made him feel exposed in an unsettling way.

“ Listen, I uh.. ” Hank struggled a little, but his awkward conversation starters were somehow still endearing years later. “ I don’t mean to be the guy who’s all up in your business, but it’s a Friday night and you’re reading about…math?  ”

Connor was away on a class trip in Washington, and Sixty had gone out to a party with Leo and his friends, which left Richard all alone with Hank and Sumo at home. He’d been in his usual spot up on the bunk bed with his nose buried in a book, and Hank had somehow decided to confront him about his obvious lack of a social life.

“ Yes. ” Richard simply said, turning a page. The book he was reading was focused on advanced algebra, and even though he’d already solved the problems twice over the past two weeks, he figured a third time wouldn’t hurt. Amanda had a new test ready for him on the upcoming Monday, and he really wanted to impress her.

Out of all the possible scenarios, Richard didn’t expect Hank to suddenly snatch the book from his hands. He looked down at the older man, who stared up at him with a surprisingly serious look. Richard sat up, brow furrowing at the lieutenant.

“ Is there a problem, Lieutenant? ” He asked.

“ I’m worried about you, kid. ” Hank said, and Richard only felt more confused by his response. 

“ Worried about me? ” He echoed, feeling the wheels behind his eyes working harder and harder. “ What have I done to worry you, Sir? ” 

Hank rolled his eyes, grumbling something under his breath as he tossed the book aside. When he met Richard’s gaze again, there was something stern and tired in his eyes.

“ I told you to call me Hank.  ” He said, “ Not Sir, or Lieutenant, or any other CIA crap they’ve drilled into your head. ”

Richard couldn’t make sense of Hank’s reaction. Amanda had always taught him to refer to his elders with respect and their proper titles, but Hank didn’t seem to appreciate it in the same way.

“ I’m… sorry. ” Richard finally murmured after some time. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t help but to feel guilty about upsetting Hank.

Hank sighed, shaking his head. He observed the younger boy for some time, who seemed to be avoiding the older man’s eyes on him. He walked closer to the bed, reaching up to grip the wooden frame, leaning against it. 

“ Look, son. I’m not upset with you because you read books or because you call me Sir, ” Hank started. Richard glanced at him, unsure where he was going with this.

“ It’s just that- You’re eleven years old, and sometimes I feel like you forget that. ” Richard was in a silent disagreement. He knew very well how old he was, but he allowed Hank to proceed.

“ And no, I don’t mean that literally. Hell, I don’t think you’d forget something even if you tried to. ” Hank chuckled, and Richard couldn’t help a small curl from creeping up his lips. It was from that point forward that he realized Hank’s speech pattern wasn’t as literal as Amanda’s. The older man seemed to play with words differently, and they meant more than what he let on.

“ This …gift you have, ” Hank proceeded, gesturing to him vaguely. Richard was fully looking at him at point, sitting on the bed with his arms loosely hugging around his knees. 

“ Is it a bad thing? ” Richard quietly asked, and Hank was quick to shake his head.

“ No, not at all. You have so many possibilities to use it for good. Which, I have no doubt you will. ” Hank smiled at him then, and Richard felt something flutter inside his chest. 

He could suddenly understand why Hank didn’t like the formal names. He wanted Richard to see him as a dad, not just another adult. Although he had Amanda as some parental firgure in his life, it just felt different with Hank. It felt more organic and less…calculated.

“ I just don’t want you to lose yourself to it along the way. ” Hank said, and Richard’s small smile faltered at his words. His brow furrowed briefly, and he decided to share his confusion: “ I’m not sure what that means, Hank. ”

Hank.

The older man seemed pleased for a brief second.

Richard watched as Hank contemplated for a moment, trying to find the right words to explain his thoughts in a way that Richard would understand. The younger boy observed him intently, like Hank held the answers to problems more complex than advanced algebra.

“ It means that, sometimes in life, you have to listen to this… ” Hank reached two fingers to the left side of Richard’s chest, giving it a gentle tap. “ …before you listen to this. ” 

His fingers moved to Richard’s temple, giving it a second tap. The younger boy’s brow furrowed as he began to think, and he fell mute under his thoughts. Richard had already realized that Hank’s way of communicating was different to Amanda, but his words still managed to reach deep into his heart.

“ Don’t forget who you are, Cain. ”

***

MOSCOW, 00:32 AM 

PRESENT DAY

Richard drew a deep, cool breath into his lungs. At that moment, he tried to forget everything about who he was. 

Contrary to most beliefs, the hardest part about being a spy wasn’t finding a loophole into the underground world, but passing through the gates without blowing his cover. Richard had worked in the field for many years, but this particular scene wasn’t exactly his forte. It was a cold night, and he was standing in a short queue to enter one of the dirtiest strip clubs in Moscow. 

Eden club.

The neon lights were glowing in the darkness, and despite the sharp contrast, he could still see the two giants guarding the door like a pair of bulldogs on night watch. He’d arrived in a dark car and been escorted to the queue by his assistant, Rupert, who worked as an undercover chauffeur in the city. The guards had already gotten a man dragged away a few minutes earlier, but it still hadn’t deterred Richard from pursuing his mission. 

Not that it was up for discussion, anyway. Amanda had been clear with her orders: He was sent there at the last minute to find you because your partner, Luther, had vanished into thin air, which meant that whatever operation you had going on was delayed, and therefore at risk of failing. Richard specialized in counter terrorism operations, and even though most of his work settled around Africa and the middle east, his Russian was still so exceptional that no one could tell that it wasn’t his native language. He knew that Amanda didn’t want him out on these kinds of missions, but he was one of her best, and whatever situation you’d been left in was becoming critically bad. There was no one more suitable to get you out of there.

When he reached the guards at the door, they scanned him from head to toe. Richard wore an attire consisting of a massive fur coat over a crisp, black suit to appear as a rich mafia boss’ heir, and he made sure his arrogance and sense of entitlement was just as clear as he dragged his bored gaze between the massive duo with a large cigar between his lips. They glanced at each other for a second, and then asked for his name. 

Richard looked at them like they were fools, and they stiffened under his bored, icy gaze.

Good.

“ I was hoping you weren’t as dumb as you looked, ” he said, vaguely pointing his cigar at them between a long drag.

 “ You’re lucky I’m in a good mood tonight, but next time, don’t make a Zakharov wait. ” His Russian was impeccable, and he could see that he’d won them over when they blinked in surprise. 

Everyone and their mothers knew the Zakharovs were dangerous, and Richard hoped the rumor of his supposed visit wouldn’t spread before he found you. A calm man in his supposed position of power meant nothing but trouble, and the two guards seemed to catch on fairly quickly. They shared another glance at each other before stepping aside and welcoming him into the narrow hall, not even bothering to search him as they blabbered their apologies. 

Richard flicked his cigar to the ground and crushed it with the heel of his shoe. He then sent the duo a lingering glare as he passed the door and walked down the glowing hall, leading him into the heart of the club. 

The large space he found was nothing like the outside of the club. Richard was surprised to find it fairly neat and clean, despite the loud music and chatter. The club had various circle booths scattered around the main stage, and several bars surrounding the area. Most of the light came from the pink and red neons decorating the main stage, and rest were blues and purples from the bar counters. It was important that he kept his supposed persona while he scanned each nook and cranny of the club, so he snapped his fingers and tried his best to look annoyed at one of the staff members, who quickly came to his service.

“ Welcome, sir. ” The man said, “ Please, allow me to find you a booth.” 

Richard gave him a low, raspy hum, his icy orbs memorizing every face he could see in the poor light. It was clear that the purpose was to keep the guests discreet and comfortable in the shadows, which only meant that this club had the most notorious criminals and gangsters as their guests.

“ I want a spot by the stage, ” Richard said. “ I heard Yasmina Petrov is performing tonight. ” Richard knew that Jasmine was your cover name, and no matter where you were in the world, you always stuck to a variant of it. It was the same for him, and his versions of Richard.

The staff member smirked, gesturing towards the stage as he spoke. “ After you, Sir. ”

***

Fifteen minutes later, he’d been served a tall, strong drink by his spot in one of the booths closest to the main stage. He did his best to appear bored, dragging his blue eyes over the glowing neons and attempting to capture more faces from the booths nearby. He didn’t pay any mind to the slow music booming from the speakers until the neon lights faded into darkness, and the low cheers from the guests signaled him that the show was starting. His focus shifted to the stage, and your dark silhouette by the pole captured his attention immediately. 

Richard didn’t expect to be so entranced by your act, but somehow he got lost in the smooth way your body moved against the pole. When the neons finally landed on you, whistles and applause erupted from the guests. His face was still stoic and controlled, and even though he’d seen exotic dancers in his time on the field, something about you still put him on edge. 

There was no doubt that the crowd loved your performance, although, Richard knew that most of the men lurking in the shadows were waiting to see you in that poor excuse of an attire they’d put you in. You wore a red, lacy thong and a matching bra that barely covered your chest as you moved down the pole in a pair of high heels, legs spreading wide and-

Jesus Christ.

He tore his eyes away from you and reached for his drink. This was ridiculous. You were both professional agents, and he was getting uncomfortable because of a simple performance? 

It was unacceptable. It was below him.

You still hadn’t noticed him minutes into your performance, and Richard told himself that he kept his eyes on you solely for that reason. Even as more women joined the stage and found their respective poles to dance on, he still waited for you to find him, and finally (hopefully) end his supposed torture of watching you dance so provocatively before him.

He told himself that his reaction was a side-effect of knowing you from the past. You’d both been in the same selection process during your early twenties, and Richard remembered it like it was yesterday. 

There’d been a hundred of you, and each month after various obstacle courses and performance tests, they’d kicked a portion out of the team. It’d taken a total of eleven months before they’d finally selected the last ten to become their new agents. It had in no way or shape been easy, but even knowing that, Richard couldn’t understand how you’d managed to get selected. 

He knew why they’d selected him and Luther: Richard had his intelligence and speed, and Luther had strength and patience. But you? He’d seen you crawling and crying in the mud as you dragged yourself through the obstacle course, and he remembered how the superior had given you hell for it. Despite it all, you never gave in. You never stopped until you passed the finish line, and it made him feel…something.

On paper, he knew what your advantages were, and they weren't a lot. You had a list of languages you’d mastered in your days, and a decent background in the military, but that wasn’t enough to make you a good agent. Not to Richard’s standards, at least. To him, you were too impulsive and emotional to fit the role. CIA agents were meant to keep their feelings in check and accept any situation they were in, and you were driven by something that made you the complete opposite of that. Richard didn’t know how, but somehow, the agency had seen something more in you. Granted, he hadn’t seen you since the selection day, so, maybe he’d be pleasantly surprised by your progress over the years. 

Maybe.

You were crawling on the stage now, swaying your body along to the music until you reached the edge. When you whipped your head back, your eyes finally found his, and you suddenly stilled. Richard knew that you recognised him immediately, and it was clear that you weren’t pleased to find him before you. He was comfortably manspreading in his booth with his eyes fixed on yours like you were his target of the night, which, technically, you were.

Richard angled his head to the side, eyes narrowing as he studied you. He was silently scolding you for dropping your act so recklessly, and it seemed to snap you back into character pretty fast. He didn’t know why, but it made his lips curl to a faint smirk. 

So you hadn’t changed, after all.

The girls were starting to trail down the stage and dancing their way over to the guests in the booths, and you were no different. Richard watched as you crawled over him at his booth, dancing over him as you brought your face close to his own. This was the first time he’d seen you upclose like this, and some part of him couldn’t help but to realize that you were…attractive.

“ What the fuck are you doing here? ” You hissed, breaking his small trance.

“ I’ve been ordered to take you out of here. ” He said, keeping his cold eyes fixed on yours. You shot a wary glance to your side, and he followed your eyes, finding a figure observing the two of you in the darkness. Before Richard could react, you were twisting your body around, sitting in his lap as you grinded against him. Your hands reached back, and you trailed your fingers through his hair while his mouth brushed over the shell of your ear.

 “ Who was that? ” he murmured in your ear.

“ Tell them you want a private dance, ” you said, “ and be generous. ”

Before Richard could respond, you were already away to entertain another man sitting in a booth nearby. 

And when he looked for the dark figure again, it was gone.

***

Getting some privacy at Eden Club was surprisingly easier than what Richard expected. It certainly came at a hefty price, but money was the least of his problems. He’d done what you’d told him to and requested a private dance with you to the staff member that had served him for the night. With a few bills tucked into the man’s shirt, Richard managed to get himself escorted to a room located down a narrow hall in the club. It was decorated with a surprisingly minimalistic interior despite its size, and something told him the luxury decor and the naughty red light had a lot to do with the money he’d spent. 

After twenty minutes, you were finally escorted inside by the staff member, and he noticed that you looked a little nervous. It was unclear to him whether it was a part of your act, or if you had trouble hiding your anxiety. 

“ I’ll pick her up in twenty minutes. I hope you enjoy your time, Sir. ” The worker said with a polite smile. 

Richard gave him a lazy nod, leaning further into his seat as he spread an arm over the back, and the moment the staff member left the room, you rushed over to him, your worried expression turning into anger.

“ Do you have any idea what danger you’re putting me in right now!? ” you hissed, trying to keep your voice low despite your apparent fury. 

“ Tell Amanda that I’ve got it all under control! I don’t need you here! ”

Richard was a little impressed. It seemed like the nervous look had been part of your act, after all. He shrugged the fur coat off his shoulders and stood from his seat, staring down at you through icy, lidded orbs. Despite your decent act, he was certainly not too impressed by your stubborn tendency to refuse orders.

“ Agent 851, your operation has been deemed unsuccessful and is therefore canceled. I’m here to assist you back to the Vancouver headquarters for debriefing.” Richard calmly explained.

You glared up at him for a long moment, and then you scoffed, looking utterly disappointed in his response. Richard didn’t react.

“ I’m not leaving until I find Luther. ” You said. “ And I sure as hell won’t cancel my mission after all the fucking shit I’ve had to endure in this hellhole. ”

He should’ve seen this coming. The impression Richard had gotten of you had been correct all along: You were too emotional and stubborn for this field of work, and this conversation was proof of that.

“ You will come back with me to Vancouver, ” he insisted, stepping closer to you. “ and you will report back to Amanda.” 

He was practically towering over you at this point, but you refused to back down.

“ That is an order. ” he said, voice stern.

A beat of silence seemed to be enough to thicken the air with tension, but before either of you could argue further, a sudden noise caught Richard’s attention. At first, he thought it was a cry of pain, but the moment you tore your gaze away from him and crossed your arms over your chest, he understood. A woman was moaning on the other side of the wall, and for some reason, you looked ashamed about it.

“ These rooms aren’t just for private dances, are they? ” he asked, voice low as he dragged a cold gaze between you and the wall.

“ You have no idea what kind of hell this place really is… ” There was a subtle crack in your voice, but Richard caught it immediately.  “ I have to put an end to it. I have to finish this mission even if it’s the last thing I do. ”

The reason he hadn’t taken a proper look at you before was clearly due to the lingerie you were wearing, but now that he did, he finally noticed the subtle marks and scars scattered over your body. Richard’s eyes narrowed as he focused on your skin. He found cigarette marks over your chest and bruises on your arms, hips and thighs. Despite knowing that it was another endurance of your job as an agent, something about it still made his blood boil. Not that he ever let that show, though.

“ You can’t. ” He said, tone firm but not quite as stern as before. “ I’m taking you out of here whether you like it or not. ”

You were about to retort when a noise outside the door caught both your attention. Richard was reaching for the gun at his hip, eyes hard and fixed on the door when your hands suddenly found his shoulders, guiding him back.

“ Don’t you fucking dare! ” You whispered harshly, quickly glancing back at the door before you decided to shove him down on the couch. He opened his mouth to speak, but you clasped your hand over it and climbed onto his lap, leaning close to meet his hard glare.

“ You’re not ruining my cover, Richard. ” You hissed, “ I won’t let you. ”

Another noise, sounding much like a footstep, came from outside the door, and before you could turn to inspect the source, a hand was wrapped around your throat. Richard shoved down on the couch, pinning you down against it. Your leg shot up in an attempt to kick him off, but he quickly grabbed your knee, blocking your attack.

 “ This is your last chance. ” He growled. ” Don’t test me. ”

Richard wasn’t prepared for the crooked smirk that slowly formed on your lips, or the loud, pornographic moan you let out afterwards. The sound rippled through him like a shiver, and almost instantly, his whole body froze. 

Your thighs were warm against his sides, and your chest was pressing up against him in a way that was becoming harder to ignore. It took him a few seconds, but he finally understood why you were doing this. Whoever was outside the door was listening to the two of you, and you wanted to give them the impression that you were being…intimate with each other.

It was all to protect your cover.

Richard tried to move back, but you locked your legs around his waist and pulled him closer with another moan. 

“ Jasmine- ” He warned, but you reached out and jerked on his tie instead, loosening it around his neck as you pulled him down to crash your mouths together.

The door opened at the same moment, and the same staff member from earlier stepped in. He hesitated the second he saw the two of you on the couch, watching as you breathlessly parted from the kiss to stare at him.

“ I’m so sorry to interrupt but- ” he began a little awkwardly. Your legs were finally loosening around Richard’s waist, and he wasted no time to move back. Your lipstick was smeared over his lips, his hair was disheveled and his tie hung loosely around his neck. Whatever image you wanted to give the staff member of the two of you certainly worked.

“ Zlatko wants you back on the st-  ”

It only took a second. The silencer was already attached to the gun when Richard reached for the weapon at his hip and pointed it at the wide-eyed man.  

“ No! ” you shrieked.

You’d reached to stop him, but by then the bullet was already lodged between the man’s eyes, 

and he slumped to the floor with a loud thud.

***

Moscow was facing a cruel snowstorm that only seemed to add to Richard’s list of problems. Many roads were blocked due to the horrible weather, and the traffic had come to a standstill all around the city by the time the two of you were on the move. Rupert had handed him his bag and a new coat to keep him warm, but been unable to drive the car anywhere because of the storm. Had this been one of his usual operations, Richard would’ve managed it just fine. He didn’t mind the cold, or the hours of long walk it would take to your supposed hideout. But this was different. Richard had you to take care of, and you turned out to be the most complicated, stubborn person he’d ever had the displeasure to work with.

On paper, getting you out of Eden Club was a simple task, but you, of course, didn’t let it be that way. Not only had you refused orders repeatedly, but you’d also ended up attacking him in the private room after he’d shot that staff member dead. You both knew why he’d done it, and it had turned you feral. 

You’d spent a month working undercover in that club, and it was obvious that you’d endured a lot of horrors. Naturally, with Amanda cutting your mission short after Luther disappeared, it left you quite frustrated. The problem wasn’t that Richard didn’t understand you, the problem was that you let those emotions get the best of you when you shouldn’t. 

You were CIA, for god’s sake. 

Although, as Richard replayed the memory of your fight with him in the room back at Eden Club, some part of him was impressed by your combat skills. By the surprisingly brutal strength you were hiding under that delicate facade. It had taken quite a bit of his power to unlock the deadly grip your thighs had around his neck at some point, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that. By the time he’d finally gotten you to submit, the room had looked like a complete mess and he was struggling to catch his breath. 

Richard knew that you only gave in because you couldn’t save your cover anymore, but that was the point. That was his intention when he shot that man, and you knew that. You both knew that.

You were wearing his fur coat as he dragged you along through the busy streets of the city, and even though you were barely wearing anything beneath it, you didn’t seem to care about the cold. 

Luther and you had been sharing a base in a village outside of Moscow. It was an old cabin an elderly woman had rented out to the two of you during your time there, and it was clear that neither you nor Luther had been there for some time. The cabin was positioned at the foot of a mountain in a secluded part of the village, and Richard wondered how it managed to withstand the snowstorm in that poor condition. He could feel each breeze and whistle of the wind against the planks when you led the two of you inside, but you didn’t seem to mind it at all.

Richard observed you in the corner of his eye, watching as you quietly wandered over to Luther’s room only to find…nothing. By the looks of it, he hadn’t come back to the hideout either, and the evidence was the scatter of belongings he’d left behind.

You’d been wearing a tired, stoic look on your face since the moment you’d given up fighting him, and Richard didn’t know if that was good or bad. On one hand, you’d stopped being difficult, but on the other hand, you were impulsive and unpredictable, and that could mean anything. Even though he never wanted to think about his family during his missions, Richard couldn’t help but to think about Colin. Something about your reckless, stubborn nature reminded him of his older brother, and it felt both familiar and alarming at the same time.

You lazily wandered around the cabin, checking every room and corner, and when you didn’t find anything of interest, you disappeared inside the room next to Luther’s. Richard took a moment to scan the space around him before he followed you inside. It seemed like the room you’d entered was yours. He could tell because it consisted of a mess of clothes, bags and disheveled sheets on the bed, and nothing about it surprised Richard.

“ There is no hot water. ” You had your back turned to him as you spoke, not bothering to look at him as you shrugged the fur coat off. Richard watched as it dropped to the floor, leaving you in the red, lacy lingerie from Eden Club.

“ You have to turn the boiler on from the bathroom. ” You were sitting on the floor now, looking through your bags and searching through various clothes until you found interest in a large t-shirt.

“ That won’t be necessary, ” Richard responded. “ We’ll be out of here soon, so you should pack. ”

You turned to look at him over your shoulder, eyes hard and flaring with a familiar defiance that almost relieved Richard. He didn’t know why, but after that odd, dead look you’d carried, it felt good to see your personality peeking through again.

“ With that storm roaring outside? ” you asked, “ We’re not going anywhere, hotshot. ”

You’d already turned your attention back to the messy scatter of clothes before you again, but Richard still fought to keep his face controlled.

It wasn’t about you witnessing how you managed to get under his skin, it was a principle: Richard refused to forget his role and why he was there. 

He was CIA, and unlike you, he’d stay professional.

“ Besides, I’m not leaving without Luther, ” you casually continued, “ or a hot shower. ” 

Even though Richard had no intention to go along with your plans, he decided that he wasn’t going to argue with you. There were things he had to do, and even though he hated to admit it: you were right. 

In a few hours the sun would rise, and the storm outside was only going to become worse.

***

Luther’s room was definitely not as messy as yours, but it was left in a way that had Richard speculating various theories for his odd disappearance. What if he’d come back to the hideout but been followed? What if this place wasn’t as safe as he thought it was and a sudden raid would wipe the two of you out in minutes? The knowledge of the brutal storm outside was the only thing keeping him partially sane. Even if that was the case, no one could endure the snow or the wind, and that gave him some comfort. 

Richard had gathered Luther’s belongings in a perfect pile at a corner in the room and settled in for now. The old couch in the living room hadn’t looked that appealing, and even though it didn't feel entirely right to take Luther’s room, it gave him a sense of privacy that he prefered with you stranded in the cabin with him. 

It was around 9 AM now, and he was laying on the bed with an arm slung over his eyes, so sleep deprived that he could die. His head was pulsing with pain, and it was all thanks to the whistling wind and creaks from the cabin wood he’d been forced to hear during the night. Whoever built this cabin didn’t prioritize isolation the slightest, and as much as Richard cursed that fact, it did give him the advantage of hearing you move around. He could hear you out in the kitchen now, working and fiddling with pots and pans, and when the smell of coffee managed to creep inside his room, you’d finally won him over.

He sat up on the bed and rubbed his tired eyes, hoping that today would be the day the storm would settle just enough to allow him a chance to contact Amanda again. During the night, Richard had spent hours trying to find a signal on his phone and laptop, and he’d realized there was no point. The storm was absolutely ruthless, and neither of you had a chance to connect to your superiors anytime soon.

Great. 

He’d been smart enough to change into a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeve shirt, and you seemed to have settled on a similar outfit when he saw you out in the kitchen. It was a little funny how he almost couldn’t recognize you with clothes on. 

You threw a glance at him over your shoulder when you felt his presence, and then you grinned to yourself.

“ I knew the coffee would lure you out. ” 

It was such a simple detail, but it managed to make him feel a little exposed. How did you know that? 

“ Actually, it was the noise. ” he countered, and it was only half true. The noise had been a factor, but it wasn’t the reason he came out of his room. Luther’s room. 

You didn’t look too convinced when you handed him a hot cup of coffee, and Richard took a moment to stare down at it. When he looked up again, he arched a brow at you.

Did you take him for a fool?

You rolled your eyes.

“ You’re unbelievable. ” you said with a sigh, bringing the cup to your mouth to take a long sip from it. 

“ Surprise, surprise! No poison in the coffee!  ” you cheered sarcastically and pushed the cup into his hand. When you walked over to the kitchen table, Richard couldn’t help but to smirk a little.

Okay.

So you were playing nice, after all.

You were staring out of the kitchen window by the time he decided to join you at the small breakfast table you’d put together. You’d fried some eggs and put out some bread with butter on the side, and despite the simplicity of it, Richard felt a little impressed by your effort. 

“ Have you been able to reach Amanda? ” he asked, reaching for the bread. You shook your head, glancing down at the coffee cup in your hands for a moment. 

“ That’s the least of my worries right now. ” you said, drifting off as you stared out at the storm again. Richard observed you for a moment. Some part of him began to wonder if there was something more between you and Luther that he’d failed to consider. Not that it would surprise him, really. You didn’t seem to care about the prohibitions or protocols for your occupation, but even so, forming intimate relationships with other agents was a horrible mistake, and Richard thought that you were smarter than that. 

“ When was the last time you saw him? ” He asked, biting into the bread, and your eyes flicked over to him momentarily. 

“ Luther, ” he elaborated.

You were trying to keep your emotions under control, and Richard could sense your struggle.

“ Four days ago, ” you said, swallowing thickly. “ He told me he’d cover our tracks over here and then we’d be ready to take Zlatko down. ” 

“ Zlatko… ”  Richard’s brow furrowed. It was the same name the worker had mentioned when he’d returned to the room in Eden Club. You nodded, sighing:

“ Zlatko owns the club. ” you explained, “ The sick bastard is running a whole criminal network in Moscow. ” You were starting to sound bitter now, but Richard couldn’t bring himself to blame you.

“ Weapons, drugs, prostitution: everything’s going through that filthy club of his, and he’s damn good at covering it up. ”

Richard recalled the figure lurking in the darkness back at the club, and even though he had no way of proving it, something told him it was Zlatko. 

“ It’s Cain, right? ” you asked, and Richard stopped chewing. “ Some names become a blur after a while, but I‘m pretty sure you were Cain. ”

A tension was creeping up his body, and it wasn’t long before his pulse was picking up, too. He didn’t realize it then, but it was the first crack to find a home in the walls around his hidden identity. That name, his real name, carried a heavy baggage that Richard had no desire to unpack, and certainly not with you.

You were observing him as you waited for his response, a little confused by his sudden silence and stiffness. Richard tossed the bread onto the table after a moment, finally meeting your eyes with a stern glare.

“ Don’t ever call me that again. ”

Whatever version of common ground you’d found together over the breakfast table was tossed out of the window the moment those harsh words escaped him. And you? You weren’t having a second of it.

“ Oh, get over yourself. ” you snapped. “ Would it kill you to act like a decent human being for five minutes before you’re back to being Amanda’s obedient machine boy? ” Your head tilted to the side, eyes narrowing at him with distaste, and Richard felt his blood boil beneath his skin. 

“ I’m not here to be your friend, ” he shot back, and something faltered in your expression at his words. “ I’m sent here to complete a mission, and that’s exactly what I intend to do. ”

For a long moment, the only sound existing between you came from the storm outside. The low whistles and creaks of the wood were somehow too loud and not loud enough to dampen the sound of his pounding heart in his ears. You stared at each other for a long while, and Richard met your searching eyes with an icy glare. He didn’t have it in him to analyze his own anger, and luckily, before he fell victim to his own spiraling thoughts, you decided to stand from your seat.

“ I think- ” you paused, trying to calm the fire rising from your throat. “ I think I'm gonna take that shower now. ”

***

Forty-two, forty-three, forty-four, forty-five…

Richard was struggling. He was struggling so much and it had nothing to do with the forty-six pushups he was working himself through on the floor of his room. It did, however, have everything to do with the suffocating fact that he couldn’t escape you or this stupid cabin. It was the frustrating fact that he couldn’t find a signal to contact Amanda and find comfort in her guidance after you’d pushed him onto a path of thoughts that he was terrified of facing. 

It’s Cain, right?

Cain. Cain brought on so many questions and thoughts into his head that he was in no position to answer or reflect on. Cain dragged him into the past and forced him to relive the excruciating cocktail of emotions he’d swallowed down throughout the years. It was everything from that odd longing to hug his dead mother, the pain of losing Hank and watching Sixty lose himself to addiction, to the realization that he couldn’t be with a woman like Suki or live a normal life like Connor. 

Cain brought on too much that Richard didn’t have time to dwell on, and he wouldn’t.

Eighty-one, eighty-two, eighty-three…

Sweat had gathered over his brow and his arms were starting to shake, but it still had nothing to do with the pushups he was doing. It was dark outside, and you’d been awfully quiet throughout the day. Even through the paper thin walls, he hadn’t heard you move around the cabin after you’d taken that shower, and he didn’t know what to do with that information. 

Had he been too hard on you?

Logically, he knew that you probably needed someone to talk to after Luther’s sudden disappearance, but he couldn’t forgive your lack of respect for protocol. Richard didn't know if Luther had been entertaining those kinds of private conversations with you, but he wasn’t going to be that type of agent. He’d made it clear what his intentions were, and you should’ve respected them.

Would it kill you to act like a decent human being for five minutes…

He’d reached a hundred pushups when he finally decided to stand up again, and he took a moment to simply catch his breath while he stared at the storm outside of his bedroom window.

Is that what he was lacking? 

Humanity?

He was wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand when he heard a noise from your room. Richard paused, going as far as holding his breath to hear you a little better. Maybe he just wanted to prove to himself that he did, in fact, carry more humanity than he let on around you. Had you been smarter, you would’ve understood that it was simply a necessity of his job. He had to put his emotions aside, and so should you.

Richard heard another noise, and this time, it sounded like a whimper. Or maybe… a sob? He rubbed his eyes with his hand, cursing quietly under his breath. Were you really crying? He dared to think that it was because of his harsh words that morning, but then his eyes caught Luther’s pile in the corner and all of those thoughts faded away. 

Were you missing Luther?

Another muffled sob reached his ears, and Richard contemplated what he should do. He tried to think about the dynamic between two agent partners, and the expectations they’d have on each other. Perhaps being there for you was a necessity he’d overlooked simply due to his years of working solo. 

Richard took a deep breath, and then, for some unknown reason, he decided to walk towards your room.

He was a grown man. He could be an adult about this and apologize, and he prayed to god that you’d find it in you to respond with half of the decency he was going to show you. Your cries were a little louder when he reached your door, and he was surprised to find out that it was partly open.

“ Jasmine? ” he murmured, gently tapping his knuckles against the door. 

You didn’t respond, and it made Richard’s brow furrow. There was another noise, though, one that he couldn’t quite make sense of, mixing with your quiet little cries that were starting to worry him. Almost urgently, he decided to stride inside your room, and what he saw then had him freezing on the spot.

You were laying on your back on the bed, head thrown back and hair spread over the pillow with your hands working a small device between your legs. Richard’s whole body flooded with heat at the sight, and the moment you met his eye, he felt himself twitch inside his sweatpants.

This-

This was a horrible mistake.

There was no reason for you to hold his gaze, but you did. The scorching heat of desire pooling in your eyes was enough to burn him alive, but that wasn’t what had his breath hitching in his throat. It was the sight of you so exposed to him while you chased a pleasure he’d never thought to understand or feel himself. Despite the small size of the vibrator, he could feel its high intensity as it buzzed against your most sensitive parts, making your thighs shake as you suddenly clamped them shut and sat up on the bed with a gasp that sounded too much like a moan.

“ Fucking hell– ” You panted, looking annoyed by his sudden presence as you lazily turned the vibrator off and fought to catch your breath. “ Can I help you? ” 

Can I help you?

Richard had no idea how his face was looking at that moment, but he prayed to god that it wasn’t as horrible as he felt inside. For a second, he’d felt what could only be described as embarrassment for walking in on you at such an intimate moment, but now he was feeling…annoyed. 

Annoyed at you for being annoyed at him. 

“ I thought you were- ” he changed his mind the moment the words left his mouth. What difference would it make what he thought? He’d just walked in on you masturbating, and he was still there, feet glued to the floor like he couldn’t walk out even if he wanted to. 

You observed him with a look that put him on edge, and once again Richard focused on controlling his expression. He stared at you through cold, half lidded eyes, and the light clench of his jaw only added to the angry look on his face. For some reason, you took that as an invitation to push his buttons further.

“ What? Am I breaking protocol, again? ” You taunted, eyes narrowing at him. There was a faint smirk on your lips that Richard ignored in favor of his own sanity, but the fight in him was quickly dying out when you decided to get off the bed and close in on him. This was a dangerous game you were playing, and even though Richard told himself that he had no desire to play with you, he found himself forced into a new silent battle of wills. If he backed away now, you’d win this little staring contest, and he just couldn’t allow that to happen.

You peered up at him when you finally found your spot before him, your head slightly tilted back while his bowed in favor of staring down at you. His hands were curled into tight fists at his sides, and his chest was rising and falling with each heavy breath he tried to keep under control. Richard looked angry. He looked like he wanted to tear you apart with his teeth and dump you to the wolves out on the mountains, but you weren’t buying it.

“ Do you want to fuck me, Cain? ” you asked, dragging your sinful gaze down to his lips, and then back to his hard eyes.

The next breath that came out of him was unsteady, vibrating in his throat before it passed through his parting lips. It was an absolute disgrace that he couldn’t control himself better in a situation like this. He’d been working in the field for years and had several operations involving intimacy with various women, but they’d never had him feeling this feral before. Richard knew that his sexual frustration was a natural, fleeting thing that he’d have to face every now and then, and he’d been content taking care of his needs alone behind closed doors. But now? How was he supposed to resist this overwhelming desire to throw you onto that bed and fuck you until you couldn’t move anymore? And more importantly, why did he want that? 

Why did he want you?

“ You’re crossing a serious line right now. ” he warned, voice low and threatening in a way that only seemed to encourage the faint curl at the corner of your lips. Sexual intimacy or intimacy of any kind was prohibited between agents, and you knew that very well despite your apparent desire to defy it. 

“ Well, maybe I wouldn’t be if you just had let me finish, ” you quipped, leaning up to deliver those harsh words in his face. The two of you seemed furious with each other, and Richard was clearly the one closest to breaking. A large hand was suddenly gripping your jaw, and Richard even challenged the non-existing glue on the floor by stepping closer into your space to snarl down at you.

“ Then finish. ” he ordered, and somehow it managed to sound like a threat.

You glared up at him for a long while, and he glared back, listening to the deep, rapid breaths you both were struggling to keep under control. Richard didn’t expect your hand to dive between your legs, but the moment he heard the familiar buzz starting up again, his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed in a way that bled frustration. It was becoming unbearable, difficult to concentrate on your face when all he wanted to do was to reach for that devious little device, and use it on you until you were begging him to stop, but despite it, he held on. He found that there was a unique satisfaction in watching your face contort in pleasure while you moved the vibrator against yourself, and he clung to that for dear life.

Despite his straining self control, he managed to endure the sound of your moans. Hell, he even endured the way your free hand clutched onto his forearm while he kept you still in his iron grip. But when you began to say his name, his real name, in a needy, desperate whisper, Richard almost lost it completely. You’d heightened the intensity on the vibrator, and even though he couldn’t see it himself, your face was telling him that it was working over your most sensitive part. He listened to the sounds: the way the buzzing became clearer and then muffled as you moved it around against yourself. He observed each result of those movements on your face, and when you suddenly stopped moving it around, Richard knew you’d found the right spot. You were getting closer and closer to your end, and Richard just hoped, just prayed, he was strong enough to hold himself back until you were finished.

Your knees gave in after a while, and instead of holding you up, Richard felt himself being lowered down to his knees with you. He was breathing hard, the sharp tip of his nose dragging down the side of your face while you held on to him for dear life. He could feel you shaking and squirming under his grip, your eyes filling with tears as you let out a small cry.

 “ Come on, ” his voice was quivering, and he sounded so demanding it almost made him question his own motives. 

“ Come for me. ”  

You fell off the edge almost immediately, and Richard tightened his grip on your jaw to a point where he was sure he was going to leave a mark. It almost scared him, the realization of how much the idea of marking you up seemed to satisfy something deep and carnal in him. Your mouth opened in a silent cry, and you clutched onto him for dear life while you rode out each wave of pleasure washing through your body. 

Richard couldn’t make out how long he held you like that, but by the time you moved your head back to look at him through those tired, half-lidded eyes, he was fighting to steady his deep, desperate breaths. He watched your face, the way your hair was sticking to your sweaty skin, and something about that drunken, awed look on your face reached something deep inside him that he didn’t know existed. Richard felt your heat radiating through the oversized t-shirt you were wearing, and the moment the buzzing from the vibrator came to an end, he blinked, landing back to reality. His heart fell into his stomach, and he stared at you with wide, awed eyes before he finally let you go. 

You didn’t bother to stand on your feet when he urgently rose to his own, breathlessly staring down at you like you were a ghost in the room that he wasn’t supposed to see, or touch. 

Something shifted in your expression then, something that tried to crawl inside him and pick him apart, but Richard wouldn’t have it. 

He tore his gaze away from you, and then he was rushing out of the room. 

He had to get away from you,

away from the unspeakable things that just happened between you.

[griffintail]

I know you write about parental stuff for a lot of characters in the Dream SMP, but I was wondering if you could write something for Quackity?

I’ve seen some writers write about Philza finding a winged child with their wings clipped, and since everyone seems to headcanon Quackity as a duck hybrid with wings that were clipped by Shlatt during his presidency, I thought it would be interesting to see how Big Q would react to finding someone did something similar to a child.

Plus I just like the thought of him as Papa Duck, and calling his kid “Duckling”. It’s just really adorable, okay? I’m in a fluffy mood, and there’s ducks/ ducklings in my yard all the time, so needless to say I’ve grown to really like ducks over the years.

Ducklings are so cute!

However, this went a bit more angsty than planned...I still hope you enjoy it! There is fluffy parts in there!

Duckling

Pairings: Parental! Quackity x F! Child! Reader

Warnings: Blood, Harm done to a child, Implied Past Abuse, Wounds, Angstish

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

        It was any other day in New L’Manberg.

        Quackity woke up, tended to his wounds to make sure they healed properly, changed into a clean outfit, then walked out of his home with his usual smile. He was able to have usual banter with his friends, laughing a true laugh making him feel relief each time as he didn’t have to hold anything back. Going to have his daily meeting with Tubbo and the rest of the cabinet was when his day changed drastically.

        He was walking to the building when he saw a small sagging figure. Straightening up, he carefully went over.

        “Hello?”

        The figure looked up and he froze seeing the pain-filled face of a little girl. She stared for a moment before starting to fall.

        “Help…be free…”

        Her eyes closed as she fell to the ground and Quackity quickly rushed forward and caught her. As he did, he winced at the wet feeling as he held her back.

        “Oh please.” He muttered before carefully moving her in his arms.

        His blood boiled as he went pale.

        The back of their shirt was soaked completely in blood and he could easily tell that she was still bleeding.

        “Shit.” He scooped her up completely.

        He ran as fast as he could to the meeting building, bursting through, scaring everyone inside.

        “Quackity, you’re la—” Fundy started.

        “What the hell is that?!” Ranboo jumped up seeing the blood-soaked shirt that was starting to coat Quackity’s hands.

        “She’s losing blood fast,” Quackity said, putting the girl on the table. “I need help.”

        Fundy rushed to grab potions as Tubbo took off his jacket, Ranboo shuffling next to Quackity as he took the little girl’s shirt off.

        “Is that—” Ranboo gripped onto the front of his shirt as the other two eyes went wide looking at Quackity.

        “She’s losing blood!” Quackity snapped at all of them and everyone worked past their shock to help him.

        On the little girl’s back were two large wounds, very similar to the ones on Quackity’s back. He couldn’t think about it though, she was losing blood and he couldn’t let his anger control him at this moment.

        Everyone worked quick and by the end, the potion had slowed down the bleeding enough for Ranboo to close up the wounds and cease the bleeding. Finally, they could all breathe as they stared at the little girl, who they had wrapped in Fundy’s jacket.

        “Someone did that to her.” Tubbo finally said, the weight crushing the room.

        “…Doesn’t matter anymore,” Quackity spoke up. “She lives in L’Manberg now and won’t see whoever did it again. She’s free.”

        “She’s a kid Quackity, someone’s going to have to take care of her.” Fundy reminded him. “And what if she has parents—?”

        Fundy couldn’t get out another word before Quackity shouted. “If she does, where the hell were they when the monster did this?! If she does have parents, they just lost their rights as parents.”

        He felt the wounds on his back ached as he remembered the day, he lost his wings, his jaw clenching before he took a deep breath.

        “I’ll take her. I know how to take care of her wounds and I’ll be able to help her.” Quackity finally told them.

        “Are you sure?” Tubbo asked carefully.

        “Positive.” He nodded with confidence.

        He didn’t know what he was doing really when he came home and laid the little girl down on his bed for now. It was all a mystery really but he did believe that no one besides him could take care of her right. They had something horrible that connected them but he was hoping to help her through the pain better than he had dealt with it.

        From there, he worked on making his home a bit tidier, really trying to keep his mind busy from the anger he felt to whoever did this to her. If he ever found out who did this, there’d be no mercy. As he was putting away a few potions’ bottles, he heard a small squeak and he went back to his room. The little girl was sitting up, face screwed up in pain.

        “Hey, kid,” Quackity said quietly and she looked at him startled. “It’s ok, I’m the guy you ran into remember?”

        She thought for a moment before nodding as he nodded as well grabbing a regeneration and health potion.

        “A few friends and I healed and stitched you, you’ll need to take it easy for a long while so you don’t irritate your wounds or open them again. You mind if I put a bit of these on them to help them heal?”

        “What are they?” She muttered.

        “This is a regeneration potion; it will help your wounds close a bit easier so it won’t take months for them to close. This is a healing potion; it will help with the pain and keep you from getting sick because of your wounds.”

        She stared at the shining liquids before slowly nodding again. “Ok.”

        He came up behind her and lifting the jacket, reminding himself to return it to Fundy, before carefully first pouring the regeneration on the wounds. She winced and whimpered in pain.

        “Yeah, I know kid. It’s going to hurt for a while.” He mumbled as he finished on the other one as quickly as he could but making sure it got done before using the health potion. “This should help a bit.”

        “How do you know?” She asked curiously as she winced again.

        He paused before putting the jacket down. “It’s a long story. Now you’re probably starving. Let’s get some food.”

        It was a lot to process in a short amount of time, but, process Quackity did.

        To start, Quackity made a spare room he had into her room. He set her up a bed to start and said, whatever else she wanted in there, he’d figure out. After establishing a space for her, he got to know her a bit better past the wounds on her back. Her name was (Y/N) and she was nine years old and she ran away from home. She liked books but she also liked to run around outside.

        Knowing that Quackity asked to borrow more simple books from Ghostbur and would let her run around close by as he’d do his daily days. He tried to make her happy and she often was, the small shell she had breaking when around him. Slowly, but surely, she loved to follow him around and enjoyed talking with him, to which people would joke calling her his little duckling.

        He supposed that was where the nickname came from as he had started to call her that after a few short weeks of her living with him.

        It was a bit awkward for him to transition into taking care of two people instead of one for a while but he eventually got the hang of that too. With that, he also transitioned his days differently. In the early morning, he’d take care of his wounds before helping her with hers a couple of hours later.

        The two had a bit of an unspoken rule. He never asked what happened to her wings if she didn’t ask how he knew how to take care of her wounds.

        It changed though when he was doing the daily potion ritual. She had accidentally slept on her back and irritated her wounds a bit so it took a bit longer than usual. With him spending so much carefully taking care of the wounds, she wanted to talk about them.

        “My dad took my wings away.” She muttered and Quackity froze in his work. “They were a lot like mommy’s…he took them away so I stopped looking like mommy…”

        He was trying to keep his breathing under control as his thoughts went wild. He was hoping that maybe, as horrible as it was, that she was alone and some cruel person out in the world had done it. Yet, it was her father and it infuriated him so much, that he wanted to hunt this bastard down. However, …

        (Y/N) sniffled and he pulled her shirt down before sitting next to her, putting his arm around her.

        “Hey, little duckling, you don’t have to worry about him anymore. He’s not your dad if he did something like this to you. I’m sorry he took them away from you, I know wings are very special.”

        “They were fluffy.” She murmured as tears started to streak down her face.

        “I bet they were. If I could get them back for you, I would. Instead, though, we’ll live like this and smile on the ground because even without any wings, we’re still pretty special.” He told her, rubbing her arm.

        He promised he’d destroy the man that use to be in her life, but today…

        She hugged him and he squeezed her back.

        Today was all about her.

        Weeks passed and Quackity was smiling as (Y/N) ran ahead, bouncing as she looked back at him.

        “Come on papa duck! I want to see the new books!”

        “I’m coming, you’re just too fast duckling.” He put a hand on his chest dramatically.

        She giggled as she turned around, going to where Ghostbur was waiting outside the entrance to the sewer. The ghost eagerly showed the little girl the new books he had “found” and Quackity merely stood to the side, pleased with the excitement (Y/N) had coursing through her. Ghostbur lent her one of the books and Quackity nodded to him.

        “Thanks, Ghostbur.” Quackity waved as he walked off with the little girl.

        He never thought he’d be doing something like this in his life, but he didn’t mind. It was a nice change of pace.

        Ghostbur smiled as he watched them walk off. They were always so adorable together, even with the black transparent wings on both of them. As they walked away, one of the wings was wrapped around (Y/N) as her tiny fluffy ones flapped in excitement. Very lovely.

[jisungsmochi]

confessions - park jisung

jisung x reader / jisung being whipped / fluffy, lil angst / hope it makes you feel something lmaoo 

word count: 8.7k 

mini playlist: 

Cloud 9 - Beach Bunny 

Falling - Chase Atlantic 

Enchanted - Taylor Swift 

summary: confessing to your crush was always daunting. but how else were you supposed to let them know how you truly feel? y/n has learned the hard way, always being the confessor rather than the one being confessed to. oh how she wished that one day, someone will have the courage to tell her how they feel, without her always having to make the moves...

//

“i like you”

“ew, you’ll give me cooties”

y/n was barely seven years old when she confessed to her very first crush, lee donghyuck. he rudely rejected her offer to play marbles during lunch, but she wasn’t fazed. she plastered a bright smile on her face, calmly nodding at the little boy,

“cooties aren’t real, it’s probably just germs from not washing your hands!” she snickered, turning on her heel as she made her way to a shaded area in the quad. she left donghyuck speechless that day, slightly bruising the young boy’s ego. how could she be so calm when her very first crush had harshly rejected her? she always tried to display a cheery exterior to her peers, she found it embarrassing if people caught her crying over some boy. so she pushed her feelings aside until she was alone.

when y/n was twelve, she had grown a crush on her desk mate, jeno. he was quiet most of the time, only speaking to her when he needed answers for homework, but she was whipped nonetheless. he was undeniably handsome, especially for someone their age. how was that even possible? she would intently watch him play soccer with his friends on the school oval, softly cheering every time he made a goal. jeno had noticed when she attended his games, often smiling at her from the field.

after weeks of innocent stares in the hallway and short conversations during class, y/n decided it was time to confess to lee jeno. she came up with the cute idea to write a small note to him during class, it read:

hi jeno!! i think you’re really cute, and a great soccer player. i also have a crush on you...would you go out with me?

tick yes or no

she had written the letter in sparkly pink ink, folded it gently before sliding it over to jeno’s desk. the confused boy swiped the card over to his side, slowly opening it. her heart was beating out of her chest. jeno started scribbling on the paper, causing her to furrow her eyebrows, all he needed to do was leave a tick?

jeno returned the note to her, a soft smile plastered on his face. her eyes scanned over the note, landing on his answer. the ‘yes’ box was ticked, followed by a short sentence under it,

would this mean you’re my girlfriend?

tick yes or no

she couldn’t help but smirk at his charms, immediately ticking yes. from that day on, jeno and y/n began dating. but when you’re going through your pre-teen years, things get really dramatic. jeno ended things with y/n after only three months of dating, which seemed like forever for a twelve year old. he dumped her over text, as many pre-teens did back then. she put on a brave front, acting as if she was okay with it all. it wasn’t even a serious relationship, but it was still her first. of course it hurt. but she continued to suffer in silence, no one needed to know.

when y/n was fifteen, almost turning sixteen, she befriended huang renjun. they were always aware of the other, often hanging out in the same cliques. it was the school’s swimming carnival, when she began getting closer to him. after donghyuck had accidentally pushed her into the pool, too caught up with chasing mark around, renjun came to her rescue. he offered her his towel, wrapping her up tightly as he sat and chatted with her while the others scolded donghyuck. he was a great conversationalist, always having something new to talk about. y/n adored that about him. from that day onwards, she would message him back and forth, almost becoming a daily occurrence. they would skype call after school, catching eachother up on any drama or daily events in their early high school lives. she started falling for him, fast. but there was one downfall to renjun. he would never acknowledge y/n at school. whenever he was with his friends, he pretended like he was merely acquaintances with the girl. it hurt her to see him act like nothing was happening between them. word got around that renjun had a crush on somebody. as usual high school gossip goes, the signs led back to y/n. her friends would cheer her on to confess to him, so would his friends. they believed they would be a strong couple. so she decided to take measures into her own hands, opting to confess to huang renjun.

y/n approached the boy during lunch, interrupting his conversation with jaemin.

“can i talk to you, uh privately?” her voice wavered as she spoke, but she stood her ground. renjun looked over at his friends, jaemin raising an eyebrow at him, encouraging him to go with her. he eventually gave in, keeping a slight distance from the nervous girl as they walked around the school grounds together.

“what did you want to talk about?” he coughed slightly, feeling an immense amount of awkwardness around them.

“i wanted to tell you something” she started, now stopping in their tracks. renjun gulped, a guilty feeling beginning to rise in his stomach.

“i like you, renjun. more than a friend” she finally spat out, trying to read the reaction of the boy across from her. but renjun remained silent, eyes avoiding hers. y/n felt deflated, why the hell wasnt he saying anything?

“i-thank you” he stuttered, causing her to raise an eyebrow at him. thank you?

“i mean thank you for telling me, it’s nice that you’re so honest” renjun tried to smile, but she didn’t budge. he wasn’t taking this seriously at all.

“you know what, just forget i said anything, bye renjun” y/n rolled her eyes, fed up with this constant rejection that seemed to follow her around. why couldn’t she get a happy ending? just for once. why did she have to settle for less than what she deserved? not only did she get rejected by a crush that day, she lost a great friend. y/n swore that she would stop focusing on chasing other’s affections. what was the point? she was just going to get rejected anyway. atleast that’s what she always told herself. those memories always stuck with her, and she refused to ever feel so dejected in life. she wouldn’t let this happen again. she just wanted someone to confess to her for once, would that really be so hard?

park jisung was a simple boy, cruising through life with little to no worries. all he wanted to do was finish high school, he dreaded it more than anything. everyday was the same for him, waking up to the same alarm, riding his skateboard to school, sitting for what seemed like forever, then going home to rest and repeat. he never took notice of those around him, why would he? it’s not like he was going to stay in touch with many of them after school finished. except for his best friend, chenle, he could never escape him no matter how hard he tried.

it was the first day of junior year, when jisung found himself placed in a seating plan for his modern history class.

‘is this really necessary?’ he mumbled to himself, shuffling to his assigned seat. atleast it’s by the window, he thought to himself.

y/n strolled through the halls, making her way to her first period class, modern history. a new year, a fresh new start. she waltzed into the room, noticing students gathering around the seating chart. she found her name, whipping her head around the classroom, eyes landing on a messy haired boy next to the window. she shrugged to herself, not recognising him at all. as she made her way to the desk, jisung suddenly perked up. she was stunning. it may have only been nine in the morning, but seeing her was enough to completely wake the previously tired boy up.

“hey, i guess we’re deskmates” y/n greeted politely, taking a seat right next to the timid boy. jisung was thinking of something witty to say, but nothing was coming to mind.

“y-yes we are” was all he managed to let out. y/n just nodded at him, eyes focusing on their teacher who had called the attention on the room. but jisung couldn’t keep his eyes off her. how had he never seen her before? she was practically glowing, her soft features accentuated by the light. he was breath taken by her, despite only having shared simple greetings.

y/n felt the boy staring at her, but decided not to call him out on it. she promised herself to not get involved with anyone this year. it would only bring her eventual rejection again. so she tried her best to ignore park jisung, it was the only way to get him to lose interest.

“i don’t think she’s too fond of me” jisung confides in his best friend, chenle as they sit under the bleachers, munching on their lunch.

“can you blame her? you probably ask her too many unnecessary questions” chenle smirked, teasing his pouty friend.

“no, i don’t even talk to her much, she just refuses to acknowledge my existence” jisung lets out an exhausted puff, thinking back to his numerous attempts to atleast become acquainted with his desk mate. firstly, he tried greeting her brightly each morning, in which she would only raise her eyebrows before pulling out her books for the class. secondly, jisung attempted to ask her questions about class work, in which she shushed him, pointing over to the teacher who was speaking. even after class, she would immediately pack her things before he had the chance, rushing out the door as if she was the flash or something.

“sounds like she just isn’t fond of people in general. does she even have any friends?” chenle questioned, trying his best to pull his friend out of his solemn state.

“i-i’m not sure, i mean she has to have atleast one friend...right?” jisung started thinking to himself. if he couldn’t get her to talk, maybe her friends would.

“you might be playing with fire here, is she really worth getting to know?” chenle scoffed, slightly admiring jisung’s determination.

“you never know unless you try, right?” jisung took a bite of his sandwich, there has to be a way for y/n to open up to him.

//

“i heard that park jisung has been going around, asking about you” one of y/n’s longest friends, ningning, suddenly brought up. y/n looked at her as if she was crazy, what is up with this park jisung dude?

“what does he want with me?” she rolled her eyes slightly, flipping through her history textbook.

“maybe he likes you? or maybe, he just wants to be friends. why are you so harsh to him anyway?” ningning sighed, memories of seeing her friend cry over boys now cluttering her mind.

“i don’t need any more friends. i have you, and like...sungchan” y/n shrugged, continuing to take notes as she read.

“i think you’re being unreasonable, he seems really nice. give him a chance” ningning tried persuading her friend but y/n was stubborn. she wasn’t going to get wrapped up in any unnecessary drama. maybe she was being a little rude towards jisung, she could cut it down a bit. but being anything more than classmates was not in the cards for her at all.

the following monday morning, jisung entered the classroom, skateboard attached to his hip.

“mr park, the skateboard stays at the front of the room, we’ve been through this” mr kim warned the tired boy, earning a subtle nod from him. jisung gently placed his skateboard against the wall, before making his way to his desk. he was surprised to see that y/n was already seated, scribbling down all sorts of things in her planner. jisung let out a soft cough, signalling her to raise her head to face him.

“could i uh get to my seat?” he muttered, barely loud enough for her to hear. he was more shocked to hear her response,

“oh of course, sorry jisung” he froze after she finished speaking. was this real life? was y/n really acknowledging him right now?

she scooted closer to her desk, allowing space for the tall boy. jisung quickly snapped out of his thoughts, rushing to sit down. she couldn’t help but let out a slight chuckle at his antics. it didn’t go unnoticed by jisung.

“may i have your attention? as you all know, it’s now the middle of the term. to test your knowledge, i want you guys to pair up with your desk-mates and make a presentation on a historical topic of your choice. please refer to the assessment outline for more information”

jisung was practically beaming after hearing ‘pair up with your desk-mate’. his eyes shifted to the girl next to him, who seemed quite pleased. she looked over at him, simply nodding, acknowledging their future partnership. did he wake up in some type of alternate universe?

“uh jisung, i really want to do well in this subject. so we should probably get started as soon as possible” y/n gently tapped the side of his desk, drawing in his attention.

“oh yeah, for sure. w-when did you want to start?” he stumbled over some of his words, catching her off guard, making her softly smile.

“maybe tomorrow? do you have a free period?” she continued the flow of the conversation, making jisung feel more at ease.

“uh yeah, just before lunch” he responded, watching as her face lit up.

“oh great! me too, we can work at the bleachers, barely anyone goes there anyway” she confirmed, writing down the extra details in her planner. jisung couldn’t stop staring at her, how could she do such simple tasks, yet look so beautiful?

all he had to say was, thank you mr kim.

//

y/n patiently waited for jisung to arrive, typing up random notes on her laptop. she was onto her second paragraph when she heard the huffing and puffing of someone next to her. jisung hurriedly sat down next to her, needing to take a deep breath.

“a-are you okay?” she questioned, shutting her laptop, turning her body to face the boy. jisung just nodded, holding up a finger before speaking.

“i just had chemistry with Mr Jung, he wouldn’t let us leave until we could recite the first twenty elements on the periodic table” jisung finally felt relaxed, taking out his water bottle, consuming a concerning amount of water. her mouth created a slight ‘O’ shape, grasping the situation.

“i had to sprint here, i always get stuck past Sodium” jisung continued rambling, allowing y/n to simply stare intently. she didn’t mean for it to seem creepy, but she couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle at his constant ramblings.

“a-ah sorry, we should probably get started” he shook his head, pulling out his own laptop from his bag. y/n nodded at his words, unsure of how to continue a conversation with him. it had been a while since she spoke to someone outside her inner circle of two people.

after about forty minutes of hardcore work, y/n’s eyes started wandering around. she caught sight of the boys soccer team, who were preparing for their lunch time practice. jisung’s eyes followed hers,

“you like soccer?” he blurted out, trying his best to start a conversation with her. she nodded softly, the side of her mouth curving upwards.

“yeah, i do. i’m no good at it, i just like watching. do you?” she questioned him back, eyes now focusing on him.

“of course, my parents weren’t so subtle, naming me after a famous soccer player and all” he joked, watching as the girl across from him started hysterically laughing. oh how he adored her laugh.

“oh my god, i didn’t even realise! they must have been onto something! why aren’t you on the team?” she furrowed her eyebrows, jisung bit his lip nervously,

“ah yeah, contrary to popular belief, i suck at soccer and didn’t make the team.” he sighed, feeling slightly embarrassed. y/n paused momentarily before opening her mouth,

“ah who cares! we can just watch together from the stands then” she shot him a soft smile, relieving some of the tension jisung had previously felt. the bell for lunch rang through the field, signalling that their free period had come to an end. jisung was about to pack up his things, when he noticed that y/n was still sitting, eyes glued to the players on the field.

“hey, it’s lunch now” jisung gently tapped her shoulder, snapping her out of her mini trance. y/n just nodded,

“oh i know, i was just going to watch them practice and eat my lunch here” she explained, turning her head back to the field. jisung held the strap of his bag tightly, thinking to himself momentarily. chenle can wait, he thought to himself. jisung plumped his bag to his side as he returned to his seat right next to her.

“what are you doing?” y/n questioned the boy,

“what does it look like? i’m keeping you company” he just smiled, pulling out a packet of chips, offering her some. she couldn’t hide how entertained she was, kindly accepting his offer. they continued to watch the soccer team practice, eyes scanning for the best players.

“that jeno guy is pretty good, i’m kind of jealous” jisung pouted, causing y/n to start giggling.

“am i wrong? like who wouldn’t be jealous of lee jeno? he’s got like everything! he’s athletic, and good looking and probably gets lots of chicks” jisung praised,

“wow jisung, sounds like you have a crush!” y/n teased the boy, softly nudging him. jisung froze at the sudden contact, he liked how playful you started being with him.

“don’t you? he’s kind of a catch, i thought girls would be all over him” jisung shrugged, watching as she slowly became quiet. he was startled by her reaction, feeling heat rise to his cheeks immediately.

“d-did i say something?” he muttered, unsure whether or not she was upset.

“n-no you didn’t. i mean, lee jeno was my first boyfriend, so i can say i’ve been there and done that!” y/n let out a small scoff, she noticed that jisung had now grown concerned.

“it was nothing though, we were like 12, and he dumped me over text. hasn’t spoken a word to me since though” she sighed, eyes scanning back to the boy in question. jisung was unsure of what to say next. y/n knew she had just over shared, she couldn’t help it. once she started, sometimes she couldn’t stop. she knew it would make jisung feel uncomfortable, part of her regretting it immediately. but when she saw the boy shoot her a cheeky grin, all her worries washed away.

“it’s good to hear that one girl at this school doesn’t have a crush on lee jeno” was all he said, causing her to raise an eyebrow.

“why’s that?” she curiously questioned,

“because that means i have a chance” he just smirked, head turning to focus back on the field. y/n was speechless. was he really being serious? or was this just some playful joke? she chose not to respond, feeling heat rise to her ears and cheeks. since when was park jisung such a flirt?

//

“come on, it’ll be fun” ningning whined as she sat with y/n and sungchan at the bleachers.

“yeah, you’ll get to see me play for the first time since i got on the team” sungchan begged, watching as y/n debated to herself.

“okay fine, not like i have three assignments to do that night” she sighs, giving into her friend’s peer pressure to attend friday night’s school soccer game. ningning and sungchan high-fived eachother, slightly surprised by her response. y/n’s gaze drew to the one and only park jisung, who was currently trying to do some weird skateboards tricks with chenle. she couldn’t pull her eyes away, finding it amusing whenever he made a mistake and tried to awkwardly cover it up. ningning snickered, catching onto the entire situation.

“park jisung huh? guess it’s finally time for you to put yourself back out there?” y/n snapped out of her trance, now glaring at her friend.

“n-no, what are you talking about? i wasn’t even looking at him” y/n immediately became defensive, sungchan deciding to step in.

“you totally were, in fact i’m sure you have a little bit of drool at the side of your mouth” he playfully teased, pretending to wipe off ‘drool’ from her face. y/n shoved his hands away from her, softly pouting.

“guys, he’s just a classmate. i said i wasn’t going to get involved with anyone, remember?” the annoyed girl reiterated to her friends, who weren’t buying the act at all.

“you can’t shut off your feelings, you know? it’s clear that you’re interested in him, even if it’s the tiniest bit. and you already know he’s interested in you too! why can’t you see that?” ningning sighed, feeling sorry for how hard y/n was on herself.

“because things will get messy. i’ll end up falling harder and ruin everything. it’s not going to happen again, i won’t let it” y/n looked down at her hands, gripping her water bottle tightly.

“maybe he’s different. he’s not going to be another jeno, or renjun, or donghyuck even. just keep an open mind, you have to start lowering your walls” sungchan pulled his arm around y/n shoulders, allowing her to rest against his side. ningning held her hand in y/n’s, gently stroking the back of her hand with her thumb. inside, y/n knew her friends were right. but something kept telling her that she was going to end up broken by the end of it. she really hoped that park jisung would be different. she needed him to be different.

//

y/n and jisung were halfway through their assignment, sitting next to eachother in the school library during their free period.

“damn, we are doing pretty well, way ahead of the schedule you had planned for us” jisung teased, eyes shifting to the page of scribbles, indicating the tasks for the assignment. y/n let out a scoff, pulling her planner towards her,

“don’t diss my planning okay? it’s just a rough outline!” she pierced her eyes at him, watching as he just smiled back at her. why does he keep doing that?

“you going to the soccer game tonight?” jisung nervously stammered, trying to play off as if he didn’t care too much about it. y/n only smirked at his words, placing down her pen before responding,

“may i ask why you’re asking?” she leant back in her chair, watching as jisung shifted his position so that he was directly facing her. she held her breath for a moment, not realising how close he actually was to her right now.

“because i’m going, and i was wondering if you wanted to watch it together. you know, since we are just the spectators rather than the players?” y/n wasn’t sure why she felt so...flattered, he really was unknowingly charming.

“oh yeah, i’m going, but i’ll be sitting with my friend” she tried to push the idea of her and jisung sitting alone for two hours in the cold, out of her mind. but jisung wasn’t going to back down so easily.

“oh great! i’ll bring chenle too, we can all sit together” he smiled widely before returning to type on his laptop. y/n let out a soft sigh. it doesn’t look like he will be giving up anytime soon.

//

y/n and ningning were both cozied up together on the bleachers, eyes on the lookout for sungchan. they locked eyes with the tall boy, waving at him erratically, causing him to respond in the exact same manner, gaining looks from his team mates.

“oh i sure hope they win, otherwise we’re making him buy us hot chocolate, i’m freezing!” y/n huffs, her breath now appearing infront of her.

“someone say hot chocolate?” the familiar voice rang through her ears. jisung was now seated next to her, two cups of hot chocolate in his hands. her mouth was agape, watching as the boy handed her friend one cup, then offering her the other. ningning kindly thanked him, gently nudging y/n’s arm.

“and one for my favourite desk mate” jisung snickered as she gently took the cup from him.

“hey! i thought i was your favourite desk mate!” chenle, who was on the other side of jisung, whined. jisung let out a scoff, softly shoving his friend,

“that was three years ago, things change” chenle continued to sulk, jisung not paying any attention to him. y/n couldn’t hide her amusement, taking a small sip from the warm cup of goodness.

“thanks jisung, i’ll pay you back” she offered kindly, reaching for her bag, but jisung stopped her, his hand wrapping around her wrist. y/n’s eyes shifted from his hand, to his face. jisung quickly removed his hand from her wrist, placing them into the pockets of his large coat.

“it’s on me, take it as a thankyou, for being such a great partner” a soft grin was plastered on his face. y/n just nodded, continuing to sip on the drink. the game had finally started, cheers of their fellow classmates echoed throughout the stands. sungchan played his best, assisting jeno in scoring the winning goal. the group of four in the stands, wailed at the top of their lungs, gaining the attention of those around them. y/n couldn’t stop laughing, continuously slapping jisung’s arm as she did so. jisung couldn’t stop looking at her. all he could think about was how gorgeous she looked in this light, the state of pure happiness she was currently in. it was enough for him to fall harder for her. along with her, not so gentle, slaps to his arm, jisung could swear he was in heaven.

“i-i’m sorry, jisung” she quickly calmed down, now realising how hard her slaps actually were. jisung shook his head,

“its okay, i’ll be your human punching bag any day, if it means you’ll hang out with me more” he smirked, causing her mouth to open slightly. was this guy even real? how could he come up with such cheesy lines?

“you’re an odd character, park jisung” y/n slightly shook her head in amusement, allowing her arm to brush against his as they sat closer together.

“it’s one of my best qualities” it sure was.

after the game ended, sungchan ran up to the group, jumping up and down, still pumped from his win.

“you did amazing!” y/n engulfed him into a warm hug. jisung watched the interaction unfold, part of him wishing you would be comfortable enough to embrace him like that one day.

“thanks for coming guys, i really appreciate it” sungchan smiles over to jisung and chenle who were aimlessly standing.

“anyone wanna get milkshakes or something? on me” chenle suddenly pipes up, watching as everyone’s face lit up.

“and this is why you’re my best friend” jisung pulled the other boy by his shoulders as the rest followed the pair. it was short drive in sungchan’s car, to the nearest diner. y/n was slightly shivering whilst in the car, jisung immediately noticed. he debated on whether or not to offer her his coat, but didn’t want to seem too persistent about it. as y/n stepped out of the car, she felt strong shiver throughout her body. jisung pushes his prior worries aside, immediately slipping off his coat, draping it around her shoulders.

“o-oh you don’t have to do this, jisung” she tried to decline, but the boy refused.

“nope, you’re cold and i’m already warm in this hoodie, just accept it” he convinced her, not taking no for an answer. as the five of them stepped into the diner, ningning made a beeline for her favourite booth near the back window. she slid herself into the booth, with sungchan next to her. y/n slide herself in the seat across from her friends, jisung quickly shoving in right next to her, chenle on his other side, once again. ningning gave y/n a playful smirk, eyes scanning over the overly large coat she had on. y/n raised her eyebrows, eyes straining, warning her friend to not mention it.

y/n’s eyes shifted over to jisung, who had started a conversation with sungchan and chenle about some new video game that was coming out soon. she watched as he threw his head back in laughter, continuing to argue with chenle about who was the best avatar in the game.  she then noticed how he balled hands into fists, gently rubbing them against the surface of his pants. he would occasionally blow on them, trying his best to get some warmth. she felt guilty for taking his coat, but knew he would do anything in his power to have her wear it. so she swallowed some of her pride, reaching for his hands. jisung froze at the sudden contact, trying to not make it obvious to the rest that he was now disengaged from the conversation entirely.

“w-what are you doing?” he muttered, moving closer to y/n, which made her slightly blush. she pulled his hands into her lap, wrapping them in the excess material of the oversized coat.

“they looked cold, i’ll warm them up for you” she softly smiled, and jisung swore his heart was about to burst out of his chest. was this real life? it couldn’t be, it had to be some crazy dream he was having.

y/n noticed the sudden shyness from jisung, heat now rising to his ears. she would be lying if she said she didn’t find him adorable. her heart racing as the close contact.

the rest of the night was spent chatting away between the five of them. from how lee donghyuck got suspended for putting shaving cream in the soccer coach’s cap, to the dreaded mid term exams that were approaching. y/n wished she had participated more in the discussions, but her thoughts were too preoccupied by park jisung. his hands still rested in hers, her fingers slowly beginning to smooth over his own, making his heart skip beats. he felt himself lean in closer to her as the night went on, practically crushing her against the window, but she didn’t mind.

“we should get heading home now, our parents are probably wondering where we are” ningning pouted as they all raised from their seats. jisung didn’t want to pull his hands away from y/n’s, making the bold decision to intertwine their fingers as they left the diner. y/n’s eyes widened at his actions as he smiled down at her. they sat in the back of sungchan’s car, as y/n felt her head lean on jisung’s shoulder, her hand still holding his. her eyes slowly became drowsy, ready to fall asleep.

“you two are really cute” ningning whispered, not knowing that y/n was listening intently,

“t-thanks” jisung whispered back, trying his best to hide how happy he was by the comment.

“so are you confessing?” chenle snickered, causing jisung to roll his eyes,

“i want to take things slow. i want her to like me back first” jisung sighed, reaching to brush some of y/n’s hair from her face.

“oh trust me dude, she likes you. she just won’t admit it yet” sungchan smiled to himself, happy to see y/n finally start opening up again.

“good, cause i’m in it for the long run” oh park jisung, who wouldn’t fall for him?

//

when jisung got to school the following monday, he saw y/n standing at the front gates, swaying slightly. she was wearing black stockings with a plaid skirt and a creme coloured sweater vest. but she was wearing something else that caught his eye.

“goodmorning jisung” she greeted the boy, fast paced walking to meet him. jisung smiled softly at her, pulling his skateboard to his side.

“goodmorning, y-you’re wearing my coat” he pointed out, causing her to freeze slightly.

“o-oh yeah, do you mind? it’s been pretty chilly lately” she wrapped herself tighter, eyes facing the ground. jisung felt a swarm of butterflies emerge in his stomach, she really had that effect on him.

“it’s totally okay, you suit it better than i do” he softly chuckled, beginning to walk alongside her, arms brushing against eachother.

“you gotta stop saying stuff like that” y/n sighs, waltzing through the school hallway, to their history classroom.

“and why should i?” jisung playfully teased, tugging on her sleeve, turning her to face him. her hands instantly went to his chest, not realising how close he had pulled her to him.

“b-because” she spoke barely above a whisper. jisung’s eyebrows furrowed at her,

“because it’s making me feel things” was all she said as she pulled away from him, rushing to her desk. jisung couldn’t help but admire her awkwardness. he was slowly getting there, she had partially admitted to having feelings for him. but he knew she wasn’t going to fully admit it anytime soon. he had to make the first big move...but he needed some outside help.

//

“is there a reason why we are hiding from y/n right now?” ningning whispered, face to face with jisung.

“i want to confess to her” he blurted out, ningning’s eyes widening in shock.

“you want to confess to her?” she repeated, mind still trying to wrap around the situation.

“uh yes? is it so hard to believe? i thought i made it pretty obvio-“

“no no, i know you like her. it’s just that, she’s never EVER had a boy confess to her before. it’s always been her making the moves” ningning explains, jisung’s mouth pressing into a firm line.

“she’s not used to this type of attention. like where the guy is genuinely interested in her as a person, and the things she likes. she’s used to always getting to know the guy, doing everything in her power to gain some type of feelings for her. then she ends up hurt after she realises that she fell harder than they did for her” jisung would be lying if this wasn’t hurting him. how could they do that to someone as caring and loving as y/n?

“how do i show her that i’m different?” jisung stammers, nerves slowly taking over. ningning just giggles,

“you’re already half way there. trust me, she knows inside that you’re not like the rest. you just have to hit it out of the park with a bomb ass confession! here’s what i’m thinking...” ningning continues to whisper to the boy, jisung stringing along to every word. operation confession for y/n was underway.

//

“hey, are we ready to hand in our assignment?” y/n approached jisung just before class. he responded with an affirmative nod, pulling out the ten page report from his backpack. her eyes widened at his efforts, admiring how prettily he presented the report.

“j-jisung” she stuttered, flipping through each page.

“i had some spare time last night, don’t mention it” he winks at her as she felt heat rise to her cheeks. she quickly moved to her seat next to him, trying her best to hide her face with her hair. but jisung noticed, smirking to himself. could she be any more adorable?

“there’s another soccer game on friday! did you want to sit together again?” jisung turned over the the girl next to him, catching her completely off guard. y/n looked over to jisung, his face completely softened, his eyes practically begging her to say yes.

“y-yeah i’d like that” she nodded, silently cheering that she would get to spend another night with park jisung. the plan was now in motion.

//

jisung was standing under the bleachers, awaiting y/n’s arrival. chenle approached him, giving him a slight pat on the back.

“you ready, buddy?” chenle whispered, a cheery expression on his face. jisung slowly nodded.

“yeah, the worst she could say is no” jisung tried his best not to psych himself out, reviewing his confession in his head.

“they’re here” chenle announces, eyes drifting to y/n and ningning. jisung took a deep breath, moving slowly towards the pair of girls. y/n was the first to notice him, shooting him a small smile, meeting him halfway.

“good evening ladies” chenle greets, making ningning giggle.

“oh please, we are barely ladies” she sighs, stepping past groups of people to find a seat for the four of them. chenle followed her in suit, with y/n and jisung straggling behind. jisung nudged y/n’s shoulder, giving her a small nod. she returned the gesture, feeling slightly awkward. but she pushed it aside, happy to spend another evening with jisung. she noticed that throughout the game, jisung’s leg kept bouncing up and down. she sensed he was nervous about something, it was either that or he was just really cold.

“do you want my coat to cover your legs? i brought an extra blanket with me” y/n whispered to jisung, causing him to halt his movements. he looks over at her, as she was halfway to taking off her coat.

“why don’t we just share the blanket?” jisung slyly comments. now it was her turn to freeze. she looked over at him, lips pressed in a firm line. as she placed her coat back on, and pulled out the blanket, jisung could feel his heart pumping faster than it had ever before. this was a good sign, right? she must like him back...right?

y/n gently placed the half the blanket over his knees, moving herself closer to him to gather warmth. she didn’t say much to him after, too focused on the game they were watching. but the position they were in right now, was all that was on jisung’s mind.

the game ended with a close win by sungchan’s team. although everyone was celebrating, it was noticeable that sungchan was not proud of how he played.

“dude don’t beat yourself up about it, it happens to the best of us” chenle tried to comfort. sungchan just nodded, not wanting to talk much about it.

“okay grumpy pants, let’s go get some food” ningning pulls the sulky not by the arm, chenle on the other side of him, doing the same.

“you two coming?” ningning calls from behind her. before y/n could answer, jisung reaches for her wrist, stopping her in her path.

“c-could i steal y/n for the night?” jisung didn’t let go of her wrist, watching as their three friends all had identical smirks.

“sure thing, see you two tomorrow” chenle winks, rushing off with the others. y/n’s face contorted into utter confusion. the feeling of jisung’s warm hand wrapped around her wrist made her nervous. he let out a short cough before letting go.

“what did you want to talk about?” she questioned, allowing multiple students to pass by her. jisung didn’t respond immediately, pulling her to sit at the bleachers again. he reaches into his coat pocket, pulling out a pink folded piece of paper. her eyes were immediately drawn to it, but part of her was still wondering what this entire debacle was about.

“i-i don’t want you to read this yet. well until i tell you what i have to say” jisung mutters, hands becoming sweaty. this was such a different jisung to watch y/n was used to seeing. he always made witty jokes out of any situation, and was barely ever...nervous.

“go on” she urged, eyes still glued to that piece of paper. jisung cleared just throat, eyes finally meeting those of the girls across from him.

“i have a crush on you” those words had y/n stunned. her mouth became agape, no proper words able to be formed. jisung decided to continue,

“i know that you aren’t looking for a relationship or anything. and you’ve been hurt before. but i just had to tell you. i couldn’t keep it inside anymore” he finally admitted, shoulders now slouching. his eyes wavered from hers at times, but they were now drawn to his hands. y/n wasn’t sure how to respond. this was her first ever confession. the first person to actually have interest in her first. she wasn’t used to this at all. jisung was a nice guy, she knew he was. but was he the guy for her? or was she just struck with the idea of him confessing first? did she even really like him that way?

jisung noticed the mini debate occurring in the girl’s mind, part of his ego becoming bruised. y/n wanted to say something articulate back to him but she couldn’t find the right words.

“uh t-thanks for telling me, jisung. it must have taken a lot of courage” that wasn’t the way he expected things to go, but he continued listening to her.

“but are you really sure you like me? like really sure?” y/n questioned, the idea still not wrapping around her head. jisung was in disbelief, was he not obvious enough?

“i’m more than sure. i’ve liked you ever since i’ve met you” he mutters, feeling completely dejected.

“t-that’s not possible. you didn’t even know me then” she shook her head, eyes drifting to the hurt expression that was now on jisung’s face.

“i didn’t need to. you were so beautiful to me. i had to get to know you. i thought i made it pretty obvious that i liked you. but i guess i should have done a bit more, maybe save myself the embarrassment” he mumbled the last part to himself. his words striking her right in the heart. she didn’t want to come off as rude or unappreciative. but how was she meant to know this wasn’t some kind of joke, or if his feelings were true.

“is it really that hard to believe that i like you?” jisung tried his best to remain calm, but he wanted nothing more than to dig a hole and lay in it.

“yes. it is. because guys don’t confess to me. they just don’t. they don’t fall for me first” she continued to tell herself, watching as jisung’s face flatten.

“you can keep thinking that. but it’s not true. i’m living proof. i really thought you liked me too. i must have misread this entire thing” hearing those words stung her heart. she did like jisung. maybe not as much as he claimed he liked her, but she definitely had feelings towards him as more than a friend. but she didn’t feel ready, for any of this.

“jisung, it’s not like that. i like you too, i just don’t think i’m ready” she whispers, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. jisung could barely look at her, an overwhelming wave of embarrassment washing over him.

“when will you ever be ready? because by the looks of it, it seems like you never will be” jisung shook his head, forcefully brushing through strands of his hair. y/n moved closer to the boy, placing her hand onto his shoulder. she felt him tense at the contact, his eyes finally coming back up to meet hers again.

“i-i don’t know when i’ll be ready. i just need some time to think about it” she sighed, not wanting to rub more salt into the wound. jisung only nodded in response. there was no use trying to convince her any further. jisung accepted her reasons, even though he held resentment towards her for initially rejecting him.

“i’ll give you some space. let me walk you home atleast” jisung stood up, offering his hand to her. y/n cautiously took his hand in hers, slowly walking alongside the tall boy.

silence filled the air on their walk home. the only sounds being heard were the hoots of owls and screeching of cicadas. jisung had let go of her hand along the way, which pained her to admit, she missed his touch immediately. as they made it to her front door step, jisung was in a rush to get home, ready to sob his eyes out. but y/n stopped him.

“i understand that you’re upset. trust me, i know how it feels. but i hope you can see where i’m coming from” she mumbled as jisung nodded along to her words.

“it’s fine, i get it. i’ll just give this to you now” he pulled out the folded paper from earlier, handing it over to her.

“if you still don’t believe i like you, that should give you a sign about how much i actually do. have a nice night” he shrugged at her, turning his back to walk away. she watched as he left her driveway, head hung low. she shook the thoughts out of her mind, opening the door to her house. she didn’t bother looking back at jisung, closing the door behind her. but just as she entered her home, jisung’s gaze lingered on her. how could she have hurt him so much in such a short amount of time, yet he still felt the exact same about her?

park jisung, you are a fool. he thought to himself on his way home. how would he move on from this?

//

after the long night she had, y/n wanted nothing more but to sleep her problems away. but as she held onto the pink paper in her hands, she knew she wasn’t getting any sleep. she seated herself on her bed, carefully unfolding the paper, her heart racing.

“dear y/n,

if you’re reading this, i’ve just confessed to you. and you’ve most likely rejected me. i understand why you did it, i really do. i just couldn’t hold it inside any longer. i know you aren’t looking for anything serious at the moment. but i want you to know that i’ll be waiting for you. i hope that one day you realise how amazing you really are, and how i would be the luckiest guy in the world, to have you reciprocate my feelings. i honestly feel like you’re out of my league. i mean, you’re so confident in yourself. and you never let people bring you down. you’re so optimistic about such trivial things, it’s started to rub off on me a bit. i appreciate the sweet moments we’ve had together, and i hope you do as well. i don’t want to lost hope, that’s something you’ve taught me. you’re now nearing the end of this awfully structured letter, and i just want to say, that you deserve the world, and i can be the guy to give it to you. if you just give me a chance.

- park jisung (you already know who it’s from i just wanted to sound formal okay bye)”

y/n suddenly felt tears stream down her cheeks. for once in her life, she felt truly appreciated and cared for in return. of course she could see herself with jisung. it wasn’t a hard decision for her to make up her mind about it. but her constant doubts always held her back. it wasn’t fair to jisung at all, to keep him stringing along. she needed to make a decision, quick. there was no way she was going to hurt this boy.

//

the following monday morning, jisung patiently awaited y/n’s arrival in class. he nibbled on the side of his lip, tapping his pen rapidly on the desk. other students asked him to stop, as they were getting annoyed at the sounds but he couldn’t help it. he was praying she read the letter and didn’t just discard of it.

just as he was slipping into his own thoughts, he felt a sudden slam of books on the desk. his eyes met y/n’s as she sat down next to him. his quickly broke eye contact, flipping through his textbook as if he was studying. but she caught on to the boy’s antics, tapping him on the shoulder. jisung froze at the contact, looking over at the girl, who was still wearing his jacket.

“this is for you” she pulled out a small jar of origami hearts, sliding it over to his side of the desk. she felt heat rise to her ears, slightly embarrassed at the sweet gesture. jisung was practically speechless, his heart beating at a rapid pace.

“wow thank you, i love it” he gave her a gentle smile, eyes suddenly disappearing. she only nodded back, unsure of how to continue.

“i read your letter” she got to the point, jisung’s attention fully attended to her.

“i didn’t realise you felt so deeply about me, jisung. i thought you just had a silly crush, maybe that’s why i thought it would be easy to push you away. but you never let it go. and i’ve never had anyone do that for me before. so thank you” y/n barely whispers, feeling her palms begin to sweat. which was only something that happened when she was extremely nervous.

“what i’m saying is. you’re not like the guys i’ve liked before. you like me for me, and you genuinely want to be with me. so would you consider going on a date with me to the movies this weekend?” she cautiously suggested, watching as the boy’s face lit up in utter glee. he wanted nothing more but to pull her close and swing her around as he hugged her. but they were still in class, he needed to be tame...for now.

“i would freaking love that” he chuckled, causing you to smirk at his response.

“i’m glad you accepted my confession, i would have given you the silent treatment if i really tried” jisung pouted, making a fake angry expression, crossing his arms. she gently slapped his shoulder, laughing at the boy’s ridiculous antics. if this what it was like dating park jisung, then bring it on.

//

[ three months later ]

“come on! sungchan shoot!!” ningning’s voice echoed through the stands, the whole crowd geared up for the school’s soccer grand final. y/n and jisung were bundled up together, sipping on their hot chocolates, silently praying for that grand final win. there was only a minute left, jeno passed to sungchan and...he scores!

all the students from their school

jumped up, screaming endless cheers at the team. ningning waved her mini flag she made with sungchan’s face on it, as y/n and jisung hollered with the crowd.

“you did so great out there” y/n complimented her friend, like many times before, pulling him into an embrace. she saw how jisung slightly pouted, missing her warm touch. she slipped perfectly back to his side, his arm instantly wrapped around her waist as the crew made their way to the diner. jisung held y/n back, offering to meet the rest later on. y/n was yet again confused, following her boyfriend’s steps to sit on the bleachers.

“what’s up, sung? everything okay?” she pouts, watching as jisung nervously looks up at her.

“i love you” he blurts out, hands covering his mouth once he does. her eyes widen, not expecting those three words to leave his mouth at all. she pressed her lips into a firm line, her mind comprehending the situation. jisung was left worried, trying to read her expressions as best he could. he hoped he didn’t scare her away, it would completely ruin him.

“you’re just in luck” jisung’s head whipped up and met her. “because i love you too” y/n whispered, inching closer to the boy. his hands gently stroked her cheek, it was slightly cold but she didn’t mind. her lips fanned over his, ready to press them together. as she did so, jisung smiled widely into the kiss, hands coming to squish her cheeks together. it made both of them giggle for a bit, breaking the kiss momentarily. before jisung pulled her back in.

y/n soon realised that she didn’t need to live in fear of rejection any longer. because jisung gave her every ounce of reassurance she needed. the boys from her past slowly fizzled away from her memory, jisung now taking place as the one boy who truly loved her.

a/n: pls let me know what you all think!! 

[komoreangel]

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐚

pairing: scaramouche x fem!reader

scenario: you met when you were both very young, and since the day he left you behind he still feels an undying fear for what sight would await him if he dared to return home.

or…

thantophobia - the fear of losing a loved one. but he had made it perfectly clear that you did not fall under that category when he left you and all of your promises behind.

request: okok my first idea was: scaramouche childhood friends to enemies to lovers. take with that what you will <3

a/n: hi anon ty so very much for the request we all know i love scara <33 but i did tweak it a bit basically its childhood friends to enemies to scara loves reader but reader isnt convinced (with a hint of 'ive always loved you' thrown in)

side note: this is a rewrite of an excerpt i wrote for a scara x oc, in which the oc was female (the same is said here but i will avoid using pronouns) and adopted into the kamisato clan as a princess (minor inazuma spoilers). the same situation is stated here. also i am 1000% willing to write more of this (includes my personal headcanons for scaramouche’s backstory, not canon!!)

growing up, you had always had poor health

your mother worried for you a lot when you were younger

she didn’t like to let you go outside much either

you spent most of your time in the palace walls while she worked, frequently being taken to see the royal physician

you would sit outside the door while your parents talked with the doctors about your “condition”

you weren’t even that sick

just weak for your age

that was when you first met him

he was training to be a soldier along his father

you were like a ghost in his eyes

sitting in the hall in the middle of the night

knees pushed to your chest, snoozing in the soft light of the moon

he was naturally a curious boy, so he kneeled in front of you and poked your shoulder

“hello?”

you startled awake

“wah-!” he fell back at your sudden movement

“who are you?” you asked

your voice was soft, and gentle, like a midnight breeze

“i’m [redacted].”

you remember what he told you, but some part of that memory had been erased from your mind…you wonder to this day what he could have said.

“my name is y/n.”

he thought it was a pretty name, although he wasn’t going to say anything

the two of you sat in the moonlight, talking quietly amongst yourselves

“why are you sitting outside the physician’s office?” he asked you

“my mama says i’m sick, and that going outside will make it worse.”

“oh. are you going to get better soon?”

you smile at him, a gesture that makes his chest tighten, although he can’t fathom why.

“yeah! she says that if we can afford to get some medicine from liyue, i’ll be all better! then i can start making friends!”

he slightly smiles

“can i be your friend, [redacted]?”

you had even said the name yourself once. why couldn’t you remember it?

his expression shifts to a slightly surprised look

“you…want to be my friend?”

he was quiet even then, and his silent expression would grow to an angry one over time

“yeah! you’re interesting, and you’re one of the few people who bothers to talk to me.”

he doesn’t speak for a while.

“you can say no if you want to.” you say to him.

“okay. i’ll be your friend.”

it’s a short response, but the bright grin that lights up your face makes it worth the wait

“yay! i can’t wait till i’m better so we can hang out more!”

you two talked in that hallway a lot

meeting after dark, talking about anything in the world

when you were about six, the worst of your illness hit you

the doctors didn’t even know what was wrong, and there were nights when he would sit outside the physician’s office alone at night, hoping, praying that the sun would shine on a world that still had you in it

you would collapse from exhaustion at the slightest overexertion

his father always told him he had to be careful with you, not only were you shorter than him, but you were also very fragile

those hours spent sitting in the hallway alone, he got to do a lot of thinking

he wanted to help you, but he didn’t know how

then, there was a sudden burst of hope

you were going to liyue with your parents

you would get the help you needed

he was happy for you, even if it meant you would have to spend time away from him

and then there was the terrible news

the ship had gone missing

you had too

he couldn’t sleep for days on end

his father was worried too

when he saw you again, you found yourself shuddering on the shores of inazuma

he wrapped his arms around you as tight as he could, as if his strength alone could undo everything that had happened

it was one of the few times he showed affection in public

he rushed you to the healer again

and this time there was no hoping

there was no praying

there was just the pit in his stomach, the fear that coursed through his veins and fueled his blood

every second felt like a decade, it was a moment in which you weren’t perfectly healthy and safe

the townspeople began to spread rumors, as people do

the guard’s son who was lovesick with worry for the sickly orphan girl

what a pity, no?

he wanted to shut them up. he wished he had the power to shut them up.

when even his father had to drag him away from the pharmacy, he didn’t talk to anyone for a very long time.

this was around the time he grew sour and snappy

his simply quiet demeanor developed into a scowl that constantly graced his face

he only smiled the day you were released from the physicians.

you weren’t fully healed. but you felt better than you ever had in your life.

his father took you in without a second thought, and he was just happy to have you with him.

“i’m better, scara.” you said to him, a happy smile on your face

“i was wondering when you’d hurry up and get well.”

you were a bit troubled by his attitude, but no less, you were happy to see your friend again.

it went like that for a long time.

he was rude, but you didn’t care because you knew what he was like underneath.

some nights he would sneak into your room and talk to you.

he told you he was just bored and felt like annoying you.

but his real reason was to make sure you were still breathing.

he always worried about you

so the day you received your vision, he felt a lot of relief

surely this meant that you could protect yourself. you were safe.

then the worst of all things happened.

his fathers death.

the day he felt like his world was ripped from underneath his feet.

almost immediately, the electro archon, baal, herself, intervened, and declared that you were to be adopted into the kamisato clan.

why you? why couldn’t he keep you with him? he was old enough to be able to take care of both of you

baal didn’t like his questioning. she said she knew what was best for you.

it was strange. because in the days he spent with you after, although not many, you didn’t seem sick at all.

for the first time, you seemed perfectly healthy.

he was glad for that…but he wasn’t happy. you could see that easily.

you knew this wasn’t the right thing for him

he stuck around for a year. you suppose you’re lucky he even stayed that long. you were pretty much his only reason.

sure he found friends in ayaka and kazuha…but he was unhappy.

he knew there was no point in staying, so he thought it was time he took his leave.

he approached you one day, as the sun began to set

you were worried for him, as he had been very angry towards baal and the emperor lately.

“scara, is there something you want to talk about?”

you watch as he stands before you

he blurts out, “run away with me.”

you’re taken aback almost immediately.

“what?”

he repeats his statement

“i’m going to flee from inazuma. come with me.”

“scara..”

his expression, as it does often these days, turns stern and serious.

“i’m not going to ask you again. come with me, y/n.”

you’re tired of him ordering you around.

“you know i can’t. i have duties here. i can’t just betray my country for you.”

“you know baal wants me gone. she’s going to kill me if i stay. she might do the same to you.”

you scoff at his words. “she won’t harm me or you. you’re being dramatic.”

he spits out his next words, laced with venom. “baal killed my father. i hate her and so should you.”

“scara.”

“it’s like you’ve completely forgotten about him just because you’re royalty now.”

“scara.”

“don’t call me scara. come with me if you ever cared at all.”

“scaramouche!”

he goes quiet

“don’t go. please.”

he frowns

“you know i can’t do that.”

you want to try and make him stay

but he won’t. you know nothing you say will convince him. he won’t let himself be convinced by you, even if that’s what he truly wants.

you inhale

“get out of here.”

“what?”

“go. leave. and take this with you.”

you throw the necklace you were wearing at him, and he catches it. baal had exiled him, it was true, but he couldn’t expect you to throw everything away for him.

“wait, what are you-“

as the two of you stare each other down, you hear ayaka’s voice coming from the courtyard, calling for you.

she has a guard with her, as the emperor assigns every royal family member. you managed to ditch yours early on.

“the guard is gonna get you if you stay, scara. get out of here, now.”

he scoffs

“whatever. i can’t believe i thought you were worth risking my life.”

he pockets the necklace and steps over the wall, and he’s gone.

nine years of friendship and he threw you away like you were nothing

in truth, the minute he was out of sight, he threw down his bag in anger

he turned around and you weren’t there anymore

you gave up on him

so if he hated you, you deserved it

it might be worth a hefty price anyway.

at least that’s what he told himself

(he never stopped missing you. almost as soon as he joined the fatui, he requested an audience with the tsaritsa to ask her how you were doing.)

“a simple agent, asking that much of me? and for a girl? that’s very bold of you.”

upon hearing it was about you, the cryo archon grew very interested. of course she remembered you.

the sickly orphan she gifted a vision to at a very young age.

she told him you were well

what she didn’t tell him was about baal going berserk and massacring thousands of her people.

upon receiving the news, he felt that chill upon him once again

the fear that fell onto his shoulders, weighing him down, too scared to ask for more information. he didn’t want to be told you were gone.

“the royal family was not harmed.”

he felt his muscles relax as he calmed down.

he quickly reassumed an upright stance.

he was the sixth harbinger. he has no weaknesses. he cares for nothing and no one.

but beneath his mask, the fire of his love for you burned brighter than the flame of any pyro vision.

a/n: ok so i really enjoyed this….scara banner when. i did tweak it a bit but i have other things written for this scenario in which scara returns to inazuma and reader is (deservingly) PISSED with him :) lmk if you want me to post those !

[kohanayaki]

.:Time and Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 6

You continue the tale of how you, James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter became known as The Marauders.

LINKS:   CH 1   CH 2    CH 3   CH 4   CH 5   CH 6   CH 7   CH 8

___________________________________________________________

Ch 6 .:The Making of the Marauders:.

~Previously~

“That was when they were first starting to put the map together,” you continued, “but that wasn't even the biggest secret they had. Of course, I wouldn't find out about that for another year. . .”

“So at this point I knew that they were hiding something else, but not what it was,” you told Harry, continuing on with your story, “But one night we had planned to meet up and use the invisibility cloak to map out the underground tunnels that ran through the storage cellars, and they never showed up. So I snuck into the Gryffindor common room through the secret passage and found their dorm completely empty. But what was there was our work in progress map. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   1975  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This isn't going to work,” Peter said flatly, watching James and Sirius draw a large circle in chalk on the floor of the Shrieking Shack.

“Not with that attitude it's not,” James said, “if there's a way we can speed up this process I'm willing to give it a go. I don't know how long I can go on with this bloody leaf in my mouth.”

“Is this even real?” Peter sighed, “it looks like what muggles think magic is.”

“It's real all right,” Sirius said, “old, but real. I mean, Transfiguration was founded on the principles of magic circles! I'm not really sure what these runes on the side mean, but it's probably not important.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Peter retorted, “Remus, back me up here.”

He turned towards Lupin, but he had long since dozed off, arms crossed as he leaned against one of the nearly decaying walls in the corner. Peter sighed, taking a piece of paper from the ground and crumpling it into a ball before promptly throwing it in the sleeping boy's face. Lupin jolted awake, realizing what had happened and chucking the paper back at Peter in annoyance.

“Not a moment of peace,” he huffed under his breath.

“Sounds awfully boring,” James said over his shoulder.

“Blimey, what time is it?” Remus said, panicked as he noticed the light had completely gone from the sky, “It's long past sundown.”

“So?” Sirius shrugged.

“So, we told (Y/n) we'd meet them to work on the map at dusk,” Remus said, “They're probably looking for us right now!”

“Oh, they are,” you announced your presence, an unimpressed look on your face as they jumped, whipping around to look at you.

“(Y-Y/n)!” Sirius stuttered, “how did you—”

You held up the map, raising a brow at the four guilty looking boys.

“Right. . .”

“You snuck into our rooms?!” James said incredulously as he saw the map, which he was sure he had left on his bedside table, in your hands.

“You've snuck into my shower before, Potter,” you glared lightly at him.

“Point taken.”

“Okay, look, I'm sorry we didn't show tonight, and I know we've been acting weird,” Sirius sighed, “the truth is—”

“Lupin's a werewolf.” 

The color drained from Remus' face, slightly mortified that you already knew.

“Come on, guys,” you said, “the claw marks and you lot disappearing whenever there's a full moon kind of gave it away. You aren't exactly subtle about it.”

You could sense the intense nervousness in the room, especially from Remus. Ok, so maybe coming right out with it wasn't the best course of action.

“Look,” you said, “if you're worried about anyone else finding out, they won't. I mean, the only reason I even knew you were here is because I'm literally helping you make a magical map that details all the secret passages and shows where everyone is. I won't tell anyone, I swear.”

They still seemed a little unsure, and you bit the inside of your lip slightly.

“If it'll make us even, I'll let you know a secret of my own,” you said, “it can even be future blackmail me if you really don't trust me.”

“No, it's not that, (Y/n),” Remus said as he stepped forward, his throat feeling dry, “it's just, well, I've never really told anyone except the people in this room. Having someone else know. . . it's just a lot to process, but if had to be anyone I'm glad it's you.” He paused for a moment, feeling oddly self-conscious as he regarded you. “When I turn into a werewolf I can't recognize any human as someone I know. I have no control over myself in that state. In the worst case scenario, I could injure or even kill someone I didn't mean to. We originally started taking note of the secret passages and rooms to find a place where I could turn safely and not hurt anyone, and we settled on here. I don't remember much when I come out of it, but. . . I do feel this painful sense of separation each time. Werewolves are pack creatures by nature, so being isolated in that state is. . . agony, if I must be honest. They all figured, I can't recognize humans, but perhaps I could recognize other animals, so. . .”

“They're trying to become animagi,” you finished, “so you won't have to be alone. That's. . . that's actually really sweet,” you said, a breathy laugh escaping you.

Remus thanked Merlin the Shrieking Shack was as dimly lit as it was so his beet red face was at least somewhat less noticeable.

“I agree,” Remus said, turning to his friends and sharing a rare, genuine moment with them. “And, you don't have to tell us your secret,” he said, turning back to you, “it's okay.”

“Hey, I wanted to know,” Sirius said, Peter swiftly elbowing him in the ribs.

“I was actually planning on telling you anyways,” you said, “If you guys are trying to become animagi, I can help you.”

You took a few steps back, bracing yourself against the wall.

“Promise me you won't freak out.”

After receiving a few quick nods, you kicked off the wall. Your body seemed to morph in mid-air, shrinking and re-configuring so fast that by the time you landed on the floor you had been entirely replaced by a large, (e/c)-eyed wolf with fur reminiscent of your hair.

Peter yelped, instinctively putting Sirius in front of him who was gawking at the sight. Remus was in complete shock and you could have sworn you saw James' glasses slip down his face.

In your animal form your heightened senses could sense their fear, and you tried your best to assuage it. You padded around in a circle, sitting down and blinking up at them to try and show them you were in control of your actions. After you figured they'd seen enough, you crawled back into your robes, which had pooled on the floor when you'd transfigured, and willed your body to turn back.

James, Sirius, and Peter looked somewhere in the intersection of shocked and terrified, but Remus looked nothing less than impressed.

“That's amazing, (Y/n),” he said breathlessly, “your transformation was seamless, how long have you had this ability?”

“My aunt had me go through the process when I was nine,” you said, a bitter edge to your voice as you fastened your clothes back around you, “it's not fun, but obviously useful. And thank you, but trust me, it didn't come at all naturally to me. I spent a good part of my winter break stuck with a wolf's hind legs, which is just as inconvenient as it sounds.”

“But this proves that it's possible!” James said, a new rush of energy invigorating him, “we can actually pull this off.”

“If I can manage to keep this sodding leaf from choking me every ten minutes,” Peter grumbled.

“Here, this should help with that,” you said, drawing your wand and pointing it at Peter's mouth. With a simple sticking charm, he suddenly felt the odd sensation of the leaf in his mouth disappearing, only to find it had melded with the flesh on the underside of his tongue.

“It's a long process, but yes, it's possible,” you said to James. Your eyes drifted to the floor where the magic circle and pages of runes were still scattered about, “if you were thinking of taking shortcuts, you might have wanted to read the warning about this spell requiring a blood sacrifice.”

The quartet paled and you laughed at their dumbstruck expressions.

“Kidding,” you grinned, “but seriously, there's no shortcuts. Now look alive, boys. We have a lot of work to do.”

_________________________________________________________

From then on, you helped the four wizards along on their quest to become fully fledged shifters.

“In order to become an animagus, a wizard must keep a Mandrake leaf in their mouth for an entire month, even when eating and sleeping,” Peter read aloud from the book they'd snatched from the restricted section, “Next, under a full moon, the wizard must place the leaf in a vial full of dew that has neither been stepped on nor exposed to the sun. The resulting potion must be stored in a dark place, and the following incantation: Amato Animo Animato Animagus, must be recited every morning until an electrical storm arrives, at which point the potion can be taken.”

“Blimey, all that to turn into a bloody cat?” Sirius said, exasperated.

“Well we have the first part almost done,” James said, feeling the faintest outline of the leaf still under his tongue, “Next full moon we'll have to go dew-hunting, I suppose. Looks like you'll have to stick it out for a few more cycles, Moony,” he said to Remus.

“That's alright,” he said, “I've made it this far.”

“He won't be alone for those,” you said, “I'll spend the full moons with him until you guys are ready.”

“What?” James said, looking at you like you'd just told him you were off to join Voldemort, “not a chance, that's way too dangerous.”

“Aw, don't act like you're all concerned about me all of a sudden, Potter,” you smirked. When his expression didn't change it took you aback slightly. He was actually worried about you. “Look, I'm probably the best suited for it anyways,” you said, coughing a bit to coast through the awkward tension, “Remus and I are both wolves, or at least partly. If one of you end up turning into a sheep or something you might be dead meat, not to freak you out or anything.”

“That's reassuring,” Sirius said under his breath.

____________________________________________________________

“You really don't have to do this,” Lupin insisted as you sat on the floor together in the Shrieking Shack later that month.

“I want to,” you assured him, “take it as a thanks for helping me pass Arithmancy. Besides, it's a perfectly fine excuse for me to practice interacting with other animals in my animagus form.”

The boy beside you was quiet for a moment, shoulders tense and jaw set tight. It wasn't that he wasn't happy you were here, he was more grateful than you could know, but he was terrified that he was going to end up hurting you. On top of that was the fact that he didn't want you to see him as he transformed. It wasn't pretty, and it was visibly painful. He didn't want you to think any lower of him, though he knew that fear was irrational.

The calming jazz record that spun on the other side of the room was the only noise between you two for quite some time, but you understood that he needed time to gather his thoughts. This was something so deeply personal you were surprised and a bit honored he allowed you to be here at all. You noticed the photograph that he held in his hands; it was of Hogwarts, taken from the very edge of the forest. The sun was peeking over the horizon, spilling out between the complexly constructed towers that made up the castle's exterior, and casting a warm, golden hue over the landscape.

“It's beautiful,” you said, “the picture.”

“It is,” Remus smiled to himself and nodded, “James gave it to me, as a reminder. He said that matter what happens during the full moon, the sun will always rise on us again.”

“Huh,” you mused softly, “perhaps he isn't such an insufferable jerk after all.”

“Oh, no, he is,” Lupin chuckled, “but he is also a very good friend, and endlessly thoughtful even if he denies it.”

You let that sink in for a moment. You supposed he was.

“Well,” you said, laughing a bit as you shifted in your seat, “this isn't as deep and meaningful as the photo, but I brought something for you.” You reached into your bag, retrieving something that made Remus' eyes widen.

“Where did you get that?” he said, elated as you held out his favorite chocolate bar which had been out of stock at Hogsmeade for weeks now.

“You guys have a secret tunnel that goes right to the Honeydukes cellar and you've never taken advantage of their storage?” you grinned.

Lupin hesitated as he held the bar in his hands.

“So you stole it?”

“I left five dracma in the tip jar,” you rolled your eyes, “I'm not a death eater.”

His smiled returned at that, and he ripped open the familiar foil gratefully.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

“It's the least I could do,” you said.

“It's really not,” he said, turning to face you fully. You were left a bit breathless as the unexpected intensity of his eyes. “None of this is the least you could do, because the least you could do is nothing,” he continued, rambling, “we were so horrible to someone you consider a dear friend, and you were willing to look past that. You're risking your life by even being with me right now, (Y/n).”

“You don't—”

“I do know that,” Remus said sharply, “I've never been in contact with anyone as a werewolf. The one time I was, I. . .” he trailed off, and it hurt you to see his pained expression, “I just don't know how I'll react.”

“You're saying that as if something bad's already happened,” you said gently, “it'll be okay.”

“How can you be so sure?” he asked quietly, equally full of frustration and admiration.

“I'm willing to put my trust in you, Remus. I think it's time you put some trust in yourself.”

Lupin's heart pounded a little harder in his chest. Had you ever called him by his first name before? You looked at him so reassuringly, so confidently. He couldn't understand it, but your words reached him to his core.

“(Y/n). . .” he trailed off, blinking rapidly. A shaky breath escaped him, and your stomach dropped.

“Remus?”

Suddenly you saw something shift in him. His breathing became heavy and his pupils dilated, completely filling his irises in a matter of seconds. He braced himself against the wall as he stumbled to his feet, his skin slowly taking on a gray hue.

“It's happening,” he said, voice deeper and strained, his neck convulsing, “you have to transform, now!”

You didn't waste any time, taking the shape of your wolf form and padding away a cautionary distance. Your stomach churned as you watched Remus yell out, his expression full of pain as his body grew in size, his cries slowly becoming reminiscent of howls. His face contorted in agony as his head morphed into a more animalistic shape, ears growing from his scalp and fur appearing as if his werewolf was fully formed inside him, physically escaping through his skin. You've seen werewolves before, but seeing someone you know actually turn into one, it was completely different. Nothing could have prepared you for this. Seeing anyone in this much pain made your chest tighten harshly.

At last it seemed the transformation was complete. Remus Lupin was gone, and in front of you stood a creature of at least eight feet, perched on his hind legs and towering over you especially in your animal form. You could hear how ragged his breathing had become, his body convulsing with the motion; growing and retracting like a beating heart. You heard a whimper escape his throat, and you could tell he was still recovering from the pain.

You steeled yourself, making the decision to alert him to your presence subtly. You tilted your head upwards, releasing a similar sounding whimper to his. Immediately the werewolf across from you was on high alert, his head snapping towards you and his lips pulling back into a snarl as his ears lowered. You took an instinctive step back, lowering your head slowly. He seemed puzzled by your behavior, which made sense seeing as Lupin told you he never interacted with any other animals during the full moon. His head tilted inquisitively and he took a heavy step forward. You forced yourself to not back away, testing the waters. His eyes narrowed again as he saw you standing your ground, but you quickly sat down, your head tilting to expose your neck slightly. You made doubly sure not to show any signs of aggression; you knew you had no chance against a werewolf at full strength.

However, he seemed to take your queues well. His tail seemed to relax a bit, his eyes returning to their full, round shape as he looked at you with curiosity. You sniffed up at him and he hesitated, but eventually circled around you and did the same. You could almost see the turmoil in him, as a werewolf you doubted anyone he came across treated him with anything less than terror in their eyes, but you were completely relaxed.

He whimpered again, and you were shocked at the sign of submission. You rose to your feet, and he didn't back away. You let out a friendly yip, which he returned, and you felt the weight lift off your chest. You leaped to the side, and he followed you, running alongside you as you bounded across the room, practically leaping off the walls. You jumped at each other playfully, rolling across the floor in a mess of fur. You smiled inwardly as this continued throughout the night, no longer seeing fear or pain or aggression in his eyes when you looked into them. Even if he wouldn't remember most of this, you hoped he would at least feel better in the morning than all the times he had to go through it alone.

Exhausted from all the playing around, you padded softly back to your robes, crawling inside yours and and gesturing over to him with your head. He followed you, coming down to all fours before laying beside you. You weren't sure when sleep came over you, but it was like the world's most comfortable blanket had been thrown over your shoulders, and your eyes drifted closed of their own volition. . .

“Merlin's beard, just what were you two doing last night?!”

You and Remus both jolted awake at the sound of James Potter's aggravatingly loud voice but quickly came to your senses. Remus' arms were wrapped around you, your back facing him. You were just barely covered by your robes with nothing underneath as a result of your transformation. As you scrambled to get decent your face heated even more as you saw Remus was currently without a shirt, his pants ripped considerably. You scrambled away from each other, trying to make yourselves decent.

Peter was howling with laughter, James looking smug as ever. Sirius was oddly quiet, but you were too wrapped up in the embarrassment to notice his behavior.

“What was that about being 'endlessly thoughtful'?” you grumbled to Remus.

“Right, I completely take back what I said,” he scoffed, “ 'insufferable jerk' is much more accurate.”

“Close your eyes, you perverted git!” you yelled at James, who was blatantly staring at you, “toss me my clothes at least, would you?”

James bit back a smirk as he grabbed your bag that was sitting in the corner of the room— clothes you had brought with the intention of changing into after returning to your human form when Lupin fell asleep. He tossed it over to you and you began to change under your robes. As his back was turned to you his mind began to wander. You'd always been attractive, sure, but since you'd always been his rival he hadn't really given you a second thought, especially when he'd been trying to get Lily's attention for ages. But just now, thinking about how downright adorable you looked when you'd yelled at him, something in him shifted. He shook it off quickly, turning to Lupin with a grin he'd managed to put on concernedly fast.

“You cheeky bastard,” he said to Remus, who was furiously changing into a new shirt, “you just wanted her alone, didn't you? Do you really need us to become animagi after all?”

“You're the worst, Potter,” the werewolf glared at him.

“Don't listen to him, Remus,” you grumbled, straightening out your tie as you slipped it on over your shirt, “he's an even bigger idiot than he looks.”

“Are you implying I look stupid?”

“Implying may not be a strong enough word.”

__________________________________________________________

It had taken months of brewing the potion and getting all the necessary preparations in order, but they were finally ready. Remus sat with you in the grass, wand at the ready to undo any untoward transfiguration that happened on accident. Peter, Sirius, and James stood across from you, standing at the edge of a stone ledge about five feet off the ground. You'd said that a leap of faith is what would best trigger their first transformation. They looked nervous, but they were prepared as they'd ever be. Over the last year you had grown considerably closer to the four boys you had miraculously come to know as friends.

“Remember, focus on your emotions,” you said, “you need to pick a strong one, let it fill your body and flow through you. If you block the magic off from any part of your body, it's not going to be pretty.”

“Right, but how do I—”

“James, I swear, I'm really rooting for you to be a mute animal.”

“But how do you choose-”

“Just do it already!”

“Oh, sod it,” James squeezed his eyes shut, not giving himself time to second guess before jumping off the ledge. For a moment he was certain he was about to land face first in the dirt, but then it happened— a moment where time seemed to freeze and his body felt completely weightless. He felt this sensation where his arms and legs vibrated with an intense, foreign energy. Images flashed through his mind in that brief moment in the air; Sirius manically laughing as they ran away from Filch, Remus snapping off a piece of chocolate to offer him after he'd lost Gryffindor a Quidditch match, and, unexpectedly, you. A feeling of warmth spread through his chest, and he grasped onto it, letting it flow through his body like you said. In an instant he felt torso shift, his shoulders narrow, his neck elongate; and when he landed on the ground he still landed face-first as he predicted, but in a completely different form.

He could see you and Lupin in front of him, mouths agape. He was about to say something when he found his vocal chords only allowed him a gruff whine. Shocked, he lifted his head, which felt much heavier than he'd last recalled, and as he looked down at himself he was taken aback to be met with a pair of hooves right beneath him. He staggered to his feet on wobbly legs, of which he now had four. As he tilted his head he could see the shadow of a pair of antlers twisting into brilliant shadows on the grass.

“Potter, you did it!” you exclaimed, “you actually did it!”

“Well how about that,” Remus chuckled, “a stag.”

“It fits him, I think,” you grinned, looking over at Sirius and Peter who looked determined and terrified respectively. “Well go on, it's your turn now!”

Sirius braced himself for the jump, but somehow he found no fear in his system. After seeing James shift in the air right before his eyes, he knew he could do it. He looked over at Peter who was nearly shaking.

“Come on, Peter,” he said, “we'll go together.”

“I-I don't know about this, Sirius,” Peter said, “I'm not ready, I don't think I can do this.”

“It's just a little jump,” Sirius said encouragingly, “you can do this.”

After a few nerve wracking deep breaths Peter gave him the smallest nod one could manage.

“We'll go on three,” Sirius said, “Ready? One—”

“AaHH!”

Sirius shoved Peter off the ledge, knowing he wouldn't jump on his own, before taking the plunge himself. Peter's screams became higher and higher pitched as he shrank at an alarming speed, almost an undetectable size by the time he hit the grass. A small brown rat scurried across the field towards you and Lupin.

The stag in front of you made a sound, dragging his hooves across the grass in what you could imagine as James' unadulterated laughter at his friend.

Sirius began to morph almost as soon as he left the ground, something you were surprised by. He landed on his hind legs, landing gracefully as his front two followed, and a shaggy black dog looked back at you with mischief in its eyes.

You couldn't help but go over and pet him. You laughed as he nudged you with his nose, a resistance that was quickly halted as soon as you started scratching him behind the ears.

“I have to say, I didn't think you would actually manage that on your first try,” you said, secretly prouder than they could have known, “but if anyone could have done it, it's you three stubborn goons.”

James huffed as he saw you continue to pet Sirius, using his antlers to prod the dog out of the way. Sirius barked, lunging at him playfully. It was quite a scene to see the two interact.

“Honestly, this is a pretty solid group,” you said, “you've got James who blends perfectly with the surrounding wildlife so he wouldn't be suspicions, Sirius who could probably do a fair bit of damage as a dog if he needed, and Peter who can fit through small spaces and snoop around the castle virtually undetected.”

“Quite an odd pack,” Remus chuckled.

“Definitely,” you agreed, “but a pack nonetheless.”

And that very week, Remus Lupin was able to spend his first night as a werewolf with his four friends by his side.

__________________________________________________________

“So, how did we choose which animals we turn into?” James had asked you the next day at breakfast, “I specifically tried for a dragon.”

“You don't get to choose,” you rolled your eyes, “You're a stag, that's the end of it. It's pretty much up to chance.”

“I'm sorry, you're telling me I could have turned into a fish and died right there on the ground?!”

“If only,” you sighed dreamily, earning you a playful shove from James. “Alright, it's not completely random, but you're definitely in the unknown the first time you turn,” you went on to explain, “and once you turn for the first time, that's it. That's your animal. A wizard takes on the animagus form of whatever animal most closely resembles their personality. So, a horny bastard for James, a loyal little puppy for Sirius—”

“A bitch for you,” Sirius quipped.

“Never heard that one before,” you scoffed, purposefully messing up his hair.

“Hey, watch it!” he shoved you off him, twisting each of his curls back into form.

“Well, look who's a high maintenance pup,” you chuckled.

Around the same time that year, you finally completed the map. It came together beautifully, each different way of folding the paper revealing a different level of the castle for easy navigation. You'd included the surrounding forests as well as the parts of Hogsmeade that applied for the secret passageways, all of which were marked with symbols and the unique names you'd all come up with. Every student and staff member at Hogwarts had a tiny scroll with their name that appeared in their location. Remus had added the nice detail of including footprints at the last second, so you could see which way they were facing and walking as well. It was fireproof, rip proof, and prone to insulting anyone else who tried to read it. It was the pinnacle of your magical (and slightly illegal) achievement.

“We should write our names on it,” James said, looking down proudly at the finished map, “it belongs to us, after all. We don't want anyone else taking the credit.”

“Yeah, fantastic way to get caught,” Sirius rolled his eyes, “what if Filch comes across it? That's like leaving your signature at a murder scene.”

“You should use code names, then,” you suggested, “I know you guys call Remus 'Moony' as a joke, but I kind of like it.”

The scarred boy blushed lightly at the compliment, a brow raised to his other three friends.

“Alright then, I guess you should all say hi to Rudolph over here,” Sirius said, jutting his thumb in James' direction. The bespectacled boy narrowed his eyes before shooting back.

“Right! And this is my good friend, Snuffles.”

Sirius lunged at him and James swatted him away in laughter.

“Come on, you two,” Remus said, “or we won't put anything down for you at all.”

“I've got an idea for Peter,” you piped in, “When my mom used to garden she said she didn't mind having rats there because their tails resembled worms, which were an old a sign of healthy soil, I know it's odd, but I think Wormtail sounds pretty cool.”

Peter seemed to perk up at your acknowledgment and nodded. It suited him somehow.

“Should we pick animal features too, then?” James mused, “I guess Antlers doesn't really sound that cool. What's another word? Horns? Give me some analogies, guys. What else do they look like?”

“Yours honestly kind of look like a couple of bent forks,” you snickered.

“Prongs?” Sirius snorted, the laughter that followed nearly splitting his sides.

“Oh, go on, what have you got then?” James scoffed.

“I was thinking Padfoot,” Sirius said, “like a dog's paw prints.”

“You know, for someone who was just making fun of code names a second ago you sure have given a lot of thought to yours,” you teased.

“Shove it,” he smirked, “What about you? Can't very well have a second Moony.”

You stared at him in momentary disbelief.

“Me?”

“Well, yeah,” Sirius chuckled.

“We couldn't have done any of this without you,” Remus reminded you with a smile.

“I think you've more than earned an honorary title as one of us,” James said.

“That is, if you want to,” Peter said timidly.

You looked at the four of them, genuinely touched.

“I. . . I don't know what to say,” you smiled.

“You could say 'yes',” James piped up.

“Alright, you loons,” you laughed, “if you leave Severus alone for good, then yes.”

“Hey, I think we've been pretty good about that lately,” James pouted.

“Yes you have,” you admitted, “It's the only reason I bothered to give you the time of day, but this time it's a promise.”

James rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face was undeniable. He'd never admit it out loud, but being friends with you was more fun than messing with Snape ever was.

“Alright, fine. (Y/n) (L/n), I solemnly swear that I will leave tormenting our dear old friend Snivelus behind us forever,” he said dramatically, putting a hand up at his pledge.

“Oh, bother,” you laughed, “the only thing you'll 'solemnly swear' to is that you're up to no good.”

“I'll take that as a compliment.”

“Then that's settled,” Remus smiled, “you'll need a code name too.”

“Let's see,” Sirius hummed in thought, “What other defining features do wolves have besides. . . well, their. . . fangs?”

“They're canines, you numbnut,” you huffed.

“Close enough, I'm writing Fangs.”

“Oi, I didn't agree to that!”

“Too bad, I'm already writing it~”

“Okay, well if that's the stupid name I'm getting saddled with them I'm going to write it myself,” you said stubbornly. You actually didn't mind the name at all.

“Well that's it, then,” James said, “Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs, and Fangs. We could join the bloody circus.”

“All we need is a group name,” you said, half joking.

“We've already got one,” James said proudly.

“Oh? Let's hear it, then.”

“The Marauders.”

“. . .”

You kept your face straight for exactly three seconds before you burst out laughing. The four boys flushed with embarrassment.

“The Marauders?” you chortled, “what are you, pirates?”

“It's what McGonnagall called us the first time we got ourselves into proper trouble,” James defended himself, his cheeks reddening, “You rowdy mob of marauders, she'd said.”

“Huh,” you chuckled, coming down from your laughing fit, “Well, then I suppose that would make this The Marauders Map. I'll admit, it actually kinda has a ring to it.”

And despite your group's joking quips and bickering, they couldn't agree more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wait,” Harry said, eyes wide at your story, “So, my dad was an animagus too?”

“Sure was,” you smiled warmly.

“This whole time I thought 'Prongs' was just because his patronus was a stag.”

“Your animagus form is usually the same animal as your patronus,” you explained, “In some very rare cases they can be different, but they work in the same emotionally driven vein of magical ability, so it would make sense that they'd be linked. Your father was extraordinary at both, because as much as he would deny it, he felt everything very deeply.”

Your eyes drifted to the wall opposite you in the living room, and a small but sad smile graced your features.

“Love is often the most powerful emotion a witch or wizard can draw from,” you said softly, “but you already know that.”

Harry followed your gaze over his shoulder. There, posted on the wall among a collage of photographs from the Order was a picture of his mother and father. It was one he'd seen a hundred times, and one he had his own copy of: them in each others' arms in a London park, autumn leaves swirling around them as they danced without any music. Even from this distance he could see the emotion in their eyes as they looked at one another— like they were the only two people in the world.

“Yeah,” Harry said, wiping a stray tear from his eyes, “I do.”

Read chapter 7 here!

Taglist:  @sleep-i-ness, @blackpinkdolan, @parker-natasha, @ornella0910 @undertaker1827 @thatwierdo-koemi @nxstalgicnxbxdy @calaryssia @aleksanderwh0r3 @juggysgirlfriend @beautifulsweetschaos @kattirin @mialupin1

[donutloverxo]

A Royal Scandal 3

Modern Royal King!Steve au

(Image from Pinterest)

cowritten with @lizzygal​

Note - There will be no taglists for this. You can subscribe to the  ao3 story to receive updates!

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Summary - Modern ruler, His Majesty King Steven G Rogers, is on a quest to make his long term secret relationship the real thing. He is a man in love and wants his lover and partner to be his queen.

Warnings - Smut (m/f), dub con/non con, sex tape, scandals, mentions of past domestic abuse, soft dark Steve, possessive Steve, spanking, power imbalance, mentions of previous domestic abuse, somnophilia.

Pairing - King!Steve x reader

Word count - 7k

Story masterlist

Sometimes Steven forgot that you weren’t that much younger than him. He forgot about a lot of things when it was only the two of you. You did that to him. You made him forget things that everyone else reminded him of constantly, intentional and not.

Early that morning was no different.

Long before his alarm went off, Steve found himself on his side watching you sleep. Feeling in every way equal to you, like there was not this huge ocean of things that he did not have in common with you, opposed to what the two of you shared.

Obviously, he was the son of kings and tyrants while you were the daughter of immigrants and a blue-collar family. You’d grown up in a house full of love and kindness and acceptance, he had not. You’d ended your teenage years going to college and then travelling and ending up here, where you chose to stay and work and travel and live a life that Steve could only dream of, his own had never been his own and never would be.

You had dreams and hopes, little things like aspirations. He didn’t.

Steve’s life was dictated by things like duty and obligations, expectations. Yours was not.

Maybe that was why he’d been so drawn to you?

Compared to all the royals around Europe and titled individuals, politicians, even old families, none of them interested him even a fraction of the amount that you interested him. To Steve you were exotic. You were a fascinating creature who might as well have come from Mars.

He couldn’t even say what it was or why.

For so long it had felt right to be alone. Considering the blood of monsters ran through his veins, Steve had been uninterested in any sort of companionship more than a brief encounter at a private location.

For Christ’s sake, he refused to sleep in the bedroom that his father had slept in.

Upon assuming the throne, he’d selected to take up older quarters in an unused part of the palace living complex. As if to ensure he was as far away from the rooms that his father and grandfather and great-grandfather had slept. Choosing to sleep in a bed untainted by any of those men, stored from when his land was ruled by an emperor. Hoping with the hopes of a young king that it would save him from their madness.

Beside him, you slept so peacefully, trustingly.

Steve had never brought anyone into his private apartment. Nor had his bed seen any carnal action since it’d gone into storage. Until you. He’d simply never been so inclined.

A rough sound from the growth on his cheek rubbing against his pillow. A pleasant reminder of that night that felt so long ago, yet also like only yesterday.

He’d had a beard back then he remembered.

A full bushy one.

One that had made you laugh softly at, roll your eyes and still manage to pull off an acceptable bow when you greeted him that late night.

“They beat Canada then Your Majesty?” You had inquired with good nature, setting down a whole stack of papers and folders onto the very modern conference table in a big room that could fit two dozen, more if the people were standing.

He’d beamed.

Steve remembered he’d been in a particularly good mood that night. Even if he was working late on the education push into the outer regions of his kingdom. A good amount was still very rural, many simple villages that lived as they had fifty or more years ago. Many parts of his kingdom were still deeply rooted in the past.

“Indeed. Eleven to four.”

He was beaming. Beaming! You were pretty sure you could see molars. It made you shake your head and begin to sort out all your work into piles to go over. Not that you’d ever admit to secretly being caught up in the hype of the team being so close to gold at the Winter Olympics. “So then the beard stays?”

“You of all people,” he admonished, coming over to help you. Picking up the well-marked up maps you’d spent hours annotating.

Making you roll your eyes.

On he went though, obviously needing to drive home the seriousness of this matter. “The beard stays until we win gold. Next we play Norway. I don’t think it needs to be said that we cannot risk it.”

He was serious. Really serious. If that full glorious beard was any indication.

More focused on the organizing task yourself.

Sorting your work by region, pile by pile, each had taken much work and effort and negotiation, endless phone calls and trips and emails to each area to get them to work not only with you, but one another. It was like herding cats. It had taken you months to get this all sorted out for Steve to see. His ideas weren’t even ready to be implemented. This was just the pre-gaming, the leadup, the work in preparation. You weren’t even on Step One. You were on Step Zero.

“Now that I know, I’ll be sure to grow a beard next Winter Olympics.”

And then you were rewarded with a rich hearty laugh from your king.

Well not your king, as you weren’t a citizen of this country. But you still liked to think of him as your king.

Watching you sleep was something he’d never tire of. Never get enough of. It was a luxury that he didn’t realize he wanted day in out.

The ability to wake up with you tangled up in blankets. Curled back against his front. Hogging pillows as you did. Allowing Steve to run his fingers up and down your bare thigh, along the curves of your body. Letting him lean forward to press his lips to your shoulder and see the peaceful rest of your face in his slowly lightening bedroom. Every last inch of you here for him.

Hungry.

That was what it was, he was hungry for you. Like a big bear that woke from hibernation after a long winter. At times he felt such a way. Never having felt this way about anyone prior.

In his own time, he slipped his fingers down along the round of your ass underneath the flesh of your hip. Warm. Soft. Smooth. Neither of you had left the bed since the late night bath in his tub.

Further down Steve allowed his fingers to trail.

Memorizing every last second to get him through his day. From how you felt pressed against the front of him, how your back moved against his chest with every steady breath you took. The way your legs tangled in his buttery sheets with his own, how the soft cheeks of your bottom pressed against his alert groin.

Most definitely though, how your skin tasted and felt beneath his mouth. Smelling like yourself from all your favorite bath products kept in his bathroom.

You’d smelled so good that night too.

You always smelled good.

It was something that he had noticed but hadn’t given any real thought to.

It seemed to be a mix of perfume and body lotion or cream. Cause Steve found the flowery smell would linger after you walked by in the way that perfume did, infusing the air and making his brain scream out that you were near. But also, when you shook his hand, it always had that sweet fresh clean smell afterwards.

Now, whenever Steve smelled it, all he could think about was you.

Those smells danced around him. Making the late hour bearable. Making the fact that the offices were empty but for the two of you, when you both should have been home in bed, not matter.

“Ok…” you were talking to him, pointing out places on the massive map that was his nation. Arms crossed. Legs spread. Standing beside you as you informed him with tones that indicated your happiness, your displeasure as well as your utter irritation. “…so I managed to get in touch with every Education Department in all nine of your territories.”

Though you were not looking at him, Steve nodded, laser focused on this project he’d tasked you with months ago.

“All of the department heads are on board with your desired overhaul to completely modernize the entire system. Unfortunately, they told me that I had to call all the district heads for all forty-six provinces to get their agreed participation too.”

Your tone went from pleased with yourself then skeptical and then annoyed.

You turned your head to look at him. “Which is what I spent the last three months doing. It was something of a thing.”

Steve could only imagine.

He was quiet though so you could go on. More than pleased with how well you worked in this position. He’d originally been skeptical with your being a foreigner. How dedicated would you be to a job in a country that was not your own? One hundred percent as it turned out.

Your hands flattened out dramatically on the table. Outrage surged from you. “I’m still waiting on two appointees because their predecessors apparently died during harvest season and no one could be bothered to replace the position. I literally had to fly out to the outer reaches of civilization to find this out. Cause all the government offices are closed during harvest season, fyi. But they’re literally filling the positions now.”

Such was the challenge of having a large kingdom with one foot in the future and one in the past. Such things led to the difficultly of keeping a Chief of Staff.

Steve’s previous Chief of Staff had come highly recommended and lasted a little over a month.

Whether it was from a lack of dedication, the obvious frustrations of the job or maybe he simply had not wanted to jump on a plane and fly six hours then ride by car five hours to remote areas in order to complete his work. Steve could not be sure. All he knew for sure was he’d keep you as long as humanly possible.

In his eyes, you were a saint.

“What’s with the question mark?”

Making you look to see which question mark you’d marked on the map full of stickers and marks and tabs. Hours had been spent working on the damn thing.

Seeing which question mark in question made your nose scrunch. “Oh…them, they refuse to even answer my calls until they are allowed to take their traditional name for their province. Which is way above my pay grade. Someone else is going to have to deal with them. I tried.”

Ah, Steve nodded, that was far from surprising. The far outer regions were notoriously independent or rebellious, depending on your stance.

He would deal with them accordingly. Not how his father did, but in his own way.

Steve’s attention was drawn to two nearby provinces. Each had a frowny face sticker. Without asking, he merely pointed.

A noise of pure disgusted frustration came from deep in your throat. Making you stand and look to him, brandishing your hands in all directions. “I tried my best with them. I really did. Both of those provinces absolutely refuse to take part in anything if the other is involved. Apparently, they’re still salty at one another over something that happened in fourteen-seventy-three and refer to me as the foreign she-devil. So…good luck with them Your Majesty.”

Soundly you slept.

Comfortable. Safe. At peace.

Making him feel like a true man. A provider able to care for you, protect you, satisfy you. As if he were stripped down to what nature intended. Instead of what society had dictated for you both.

Reaching down to that heavenly place between the V in your thighs, Steve pushed his fingers further to find your softness slippery, your skin slick with viscous arousal. In pushing his finger up further, running it around the edge of your slit to where the gateway to your body was hidden, he found you heavily aroused. Coating his fingers with a thick fluid that promised you would be able to take him now. Oozing into the cervices between his fingers and smearing thickly down his palm and over the back of his hand.

Unable to help himself, he brought his hand out from between your legs in order to look at your arousal. Merely the sight made his balls clench in eager anticipation. Tasting the bodily excretions had his hips moving against yours on their own.

A noise came from you. Though you were far from waking. Always one to enjoy your sleep.

On his tongue you were heady, ripe. Tasting like sin. Steve licked his fingers. Eyes closed so he could savor the taste, how you clung to his tongue and were thick, like a burst of brandy swirling with his saliva.

Awakened now from his deep sleep. Ravenous like a beast of the forest. He pressed a lingering kiss to your shoulder. Making you mumble. Making you wiggle in your sleep, causing you to reach your arm out for a pillow to pull close. Hooking your leg up higher too. Becoming more comfortable in the bed in addition to opening yourself up more to your king. As if your body had connected to his on a level your mind was unaware and encouraged him to take you.

Down he peered. Strands of hair fell across his forehead at the harsh angle. A soft lightening of the sun through drapes he never closed last night allowed the sight of moisture. Folds of bare skin sheened up at him. Tempting him with that webbing of goo that promised him you were ready.

Taking himself in hand, he caught sight of your name curled over his side. Reminding him of your absolute possession over him. Sending his hand low to pull his foreskin back in order to feed this hunger of you that consumed him.

Your signature was all swoops and swirls.

Recognizable above anyone else’s writing he came across on a daily basis.

All over paper and on the maps. In little corners. Highlighted. In different color pens. On stickie notes. Written on napkins or on the back of random pieces of paper.

At the time, he’d had no idea how far gone he really was.

Not even when he watched you take note after note with a purple inked pen, your hand flowing across paper like a swimmer cutting through the water. Taking down his every word, every command.

A incredibly distinctive feeling of being full woke you up from your glorious sleep, in a very singular sort of way that could be from only one thing. Only one thing on earth felt like that when waking you up.

Pulling you out of a warm blissful sleep only to wake you with the exquisite feeling of being stretched open, pushed into, filled up. Making your fingers clench bedding or pillows or whatever they could grab.

A low breathy moan came from you in the time between you were woken and awake, your face burrowing in a pillow was followed by a soft profanity. Weight slowly covered you. Weight pinned you down to the bed a little at a time. Skin and sheets and soft dustings of hair rubbed against you.

Only when you had fully woken did you feel pubes brush against your cheeks. A light tap of scrotum bumped you too.

Long arms wrapped around you. Wet lips mouthed along the curve of your neck.

This was a far superior way to wake up. Compared to your apartment, in bed alone, to your neighbors loud shrilling alarm clock through your paper-thin wall.

Groaning out at the feel of His Majesty’s cock stuffed safely up in your secret garden. You found yourself whining at Steve at whatever time it was in the early morning. “…fuuuuck…what’d I say about doing that…” A swivel, nay, a swivel with a pop of his pelvis followed, making you see stars, gasp deeply as if you’d been stabbed in the lungs and then add on for God and Country. “…My King…shit, My King…oh shit, My King.”

Though it may have been said in jest, his tone was hot enough to scald. “If memory serves me correctly…” another deep push of thick hips shoved you forward into the pillows. “…you say, not in my ass unless I’m awake.”

Stars.

So many bright and colorful stars.

Mmm.

Yes, that was something you had told him on many occasions and it still held very true. If Steve was going to put anything in your ass, forget that thing he claimed was a dick, you needed to be fully awake so you could both physically and emotionally prepare yourself.

Nothing at all could have prepared you for the drastic turn your life was about to take that night.

Nothing.

Everything had been so normal. It was so regular. Like many a long night working late hours at the palace before. Hours had been spent going over all your hard work contacting each and every head in each education department per province, as well as per territory. In addition to the national department of education, preparing to prep them for what the king wanted.

Like any other late night, Steve helped you put all of your paperwork back in the correct order you had it in. Like every other time, he requested a palace car take you to your apartment. Granted the apartment you shared with your best friend was walking distance away. It was late and simply not safe and you found were touched that Steve would think about your well-being.

For a king, he wasn’t that bad. When it was the two of you anyway.

Looks aside, which he had in spades, he could be very funny in a sarcastic sort of way. He was very well read and intelligent, quick on his feet. Although people seemed to think of him a certain type of way based on his father and his own kingship at a young age, when he really was his own person.

You’d noticed he had a definite interest in the classical masters and had on rare occasion seen him sketch out something on a flight or during a less than stimulating event. He had an artistic ability that would never come to anything due to his role.

His strong sense of duty paired with a disgusting moral obligation pretty much guaranteed his life would be spent in service to his country. Period.

You could see why people thought he was hot. The man had been blessed by the genetic gods. Plus he was a king. Who didn’t grow up dreaming about being a princess? Or think about a literal Prince Charming from fairy tales?

Having now had the benefit of working in a real life palace. You knew the realities of that fantasy.

You had two pages of notes that could attest to the reality of your childhood Disney Princess movies.

Reality was always so different.

Not for the first time, you found yourself repeating yourself. “…and let me say one more time. Thank you so much for talking with my parents. I know it was only ten minutes, but, I know how busy you are and it just completely topped off their visit. My mother has been telling everyone about how she met the king. You even have my father cheering for the hockey team.”

A smile came over Steve’s face that was real.

It wasn’t one of his practiced smiles. It was an actual smile. You could tell because it reached his eyes.

“Well,” Steve answered you with a shrug, sounding genuinely pleased even if he also sounded tired and like he wanted nothing more than to go off to his living quarters in the palace and crash into bed, before he had to get up to start a new day. Helping you stack the last of your papers up. “Anything to convert a soul to hockey. Technically, it is his team too.” And because he could not help himself, Steve added on, “Even if his grandparents fled from here for a cushy life in the west.”

Up your hand flew to your chest.

Your jaw dropped in mock pain. “Ouch, Sir! That one was painful.”

His smile grew at your over-the-top reaction.

Still though, he dipped his head and you noticed there was a little blush on his cheeks above where that magnificent beard grew. Chagrined, he quickly followed up with, “I apologize. That was a cheap shot.”

In a physical sort of way that his people were known to interact, personal space be damned, Steve reached over to touch your arm apologetically. Not something he did frequently. Although he had done it a handful of times. The press of his mouth to your cheek was new. The little kiss was brand new. Steve’s lips were gentle on your skin. His beard tickled your face.

Never in your life had your heart pounded as violently in your chest as it did at that gesture. Quickly, your head turned. Though you did not move back or say anything. Instead, you found yourself staring at Steve. Looking into those pools of blue that were looking at you with the same amount of surprise that you felt. His lips were right there, right there.

Blood roared in your ears, your heart pounded faster and faster and faster.

He kissed you.

Did he really though?

Was it a kiss or was it a kiss?

For a moment in time, you leaned in. Leaned closer. Leaned till you almost touched him because that was what your body wanted to do. Until you remembered that Steve was a king. A KING. Remembering that made your head command your body to lean backwards a bit. Allowing you to see that he had leant in to meet you.

He’d leaned closer to kiss you.

What were you doing? What in the hell were you doing? You had no business doing this, no business at all messing around with Steve.

Fingers moved along your arm, tracing up the back of it softly. That simple touch made goosebumps break out over your skin. It made your breath hitch. Your hands began to shake so you grabbed the fabric of your skirt.

However, you made no move to step away from Steve. Nor did he make any sort of move to step away from you.

Another attempt at a kiss was not made.

Fingers touched your face instead. Steve was close enough to you that you felt his legs brush yours. You felt his breath against your face. Fingertips ran across the swell of your cheekbone, down over your lips, tracing the bridge of your nose in what felt like a desire to memorize your face.

Steve was gentle. His fingertips felt like feathers on your skin. He made you shake like a leaf in terror because you wanted him to touch you more. You wanted to be touched. You wanted to feel his hands on you and the soft glide of his thumb along the line of your jaw was painfully insufficient.

Without thinking, you reached up with your hands until you remembered that he was the king.

Were you allowed to touch the king? You weren’t sure. He was touching you and it was fabulous but were you allowed to do the same? You wanted to. You so deeply wanted to. You just were not sure what was allowed in this situation. It had not exactly been covered in the Royal Protocol Guidebook you had.

Then came Steve’s voice. Harsh. Gravelly. Desperate.

“Touch me. It’s ok. I want you to.”

For only a heartbeat or two you remained still, observing him, making sure. Only after that did you reach up with your hands to cover his wrists. Rub along the fabric of his button-up shirt. In doing so, you not only felt the strength in his well-muscled wrists, or how warm the silky fabric was, but, you could feel him tremble. He was shaking about as much as you were.

A rush of air surged from his lungs as if you had burnt him.

Curious, you turned your head so you could place a single kiss on the inside of his hand touching your face, right at the base of his thumb. In doing so, you ripped a noise from deep within him. A noise that was both pained while also infused with wanting.

“This is ok?”

“Yes,” he croaked out, as if he were terrified you would stop.

Never would you have ever imagined he would be so responsive. Almost touch starved it felt.

Sometimes, Steve still felt as if he were a little touch starved to you. Sometimes it felt like he’d gone his entire life without having that physical connection between two people. As complicated of a man as he was with as complicated of a life as he had, you at times forgot that he was still a human being with human being needs that were essential to thriving.

And it wasn’t like you were complaining.

Far from it.

Not after the orgasm you just had, not from on top of him either. Lounged across the front of him. Loose limbed. Languid down to your marrow. Peppering the damp skin of his neck with slow wet kisses and scrapes of teeth. Long drags of your tongue collected drops of salt that tasted of him. Lazily. Heart to heart. Stomach to stomach.

There really were worse ways to wake up.

Like, for instance, in your apartment taking cold showers cause the building’s water heater was ancient. That wasn’t fun at all and usually had you shivering and hurrying through an icy shower. Straight up not a good time.

This? This was soooo much better.

Feeling Steve’s long legs wrapped up in your own, paired with his softening member filling you by virtue of sheer size not letting himself just pop out…this was a much better way to wake up. Far superior in every way.

Not that you were willing to waste precious time like this luxuriating in post-coital bliss. No, no. A burning question was hot on your mind that kept popping up after last night. After all, you were a modern woman and this was a serious relationship. You had every right to ask this question at any time you wanted. Even now. As your boyfriend, the king, fondled your breasts in his hands with such intensity that you would have thought he’d just broken out of Alcatraz after a decade of no nookie. Not that you were in the least bit complaining. Not one bit.

“Am I going to have to quit my job?”

It was something of a concern.

You loved your job. You loved working with Steve. You loved your life as it was and a big part of you suspected becoming queen would mean big changes.

Not that you lifted your head from his neck, or ceased your trek down towards his collarbone. Trail of your kisses never slowing or stopping. No hint of any sort of disruption came. Not for a moment or two. Not till your ravenous boyfriend squeezed your breasts possessively. Thumbed your nipples and finally opened his eyes, as if it were the biggest chore on earth.

His voice was rough. His tone felt like hot gooey honey that just got everywhere. “No…not yet…”

Leading you to make a noise. A pop followed when your mouth left the dark spot you’d been sucking on nearly at his collarbone. What with your name already etched on him. What else could you leave in a display of ownership over him? “Nothing else to add My King?” For added emphasis, perhaps you gave you vaginal muscles a clench knowing what that did to him.

A grunt came from beneath you.

Wrapped up in yours, Steve’s legs clenched in response to what you did. White teeth sank into his upper lip and you absolutely thrived at the sight and feel of him arching up against you, shifting around beneath you at the way your body squeezed him.

Those hands left your breasts only to reach down, run over your waist as they had so many times before, leading you to grab them. Snatch then right up. Press them down into the mattress over Steve’s head. Since the man was far larger than you, this sent you leaning downwards and ever closer to his face. “Steve? I asked you a question.”

How easy it would have been for him to get free. Yet, he seemed content where he found himself. Still wedged within you. Warm in bed. Body a sea of a complex cocktail of chemicals after physically releasing into you. A far better way to wake up than alone in a massive bed. Or worse, to his mother jabbing at him to urgently tell him something that was not urgent at all.

Feeling your breasts press against his chest. Lightly brushing over his skin, your nipples little points that sparked a definite interest in his dick.

God did he want you to be his queen.

“Not yet,” Steve ground out, nearly close to being overwhelmed by you. Each and every word was enunciated to utter perfection, as if it took all of his concentration and effort to get them out. “I’ll have the palace leave your name out of the official statement today. We can go slow. Ease you into things…ease you out of your job…” and to reward him for such a thoughtful statement, you clenched around him once more.

However, it seemed, there was more and even though his eyes rolled up into his head at the feel of your core squeezing his not entirely soft organ, he pushed on with the determination of his ancestors. Grunting. Arching back into the bed as the pillows had all wound up on the floor. Perfect teeth clenched together. “M-my people…will…love you…too.”

So, it was entirely possible, that you were feeling all kinds of powerful watching him writhe beneath you. Knowing exactly what sort of repercussions this could have to your morning. Which was still progressing on time. It was entirely possible that you may have intentionally pushed your own pelvis against his to reseat yourself.

“Oh yeah? How can you be so sure? You saw what happened with those two over in England. And that prince isn’t even next in line to the throne.”

Perhaps it was the seriousness of the direction in which your conversation had taken, Steve remained beneath you. Taking no action, even though you could quite literally feel his dick grow more interested in what your hips were doing.

A panted out, “…fuck…” escaped from him, before he opened his eyes to look at you seriously, if not also a little heatedly. “Quit obsessing over them. The King of Jordan married for love. Queen Rania was a commoner. If you must, focus on them.”

Sudden movement found you falling off Steve and onto the bed, shoved onto your back and in a flash, he was on top of you again. Over you. Hovering. Though he’d escaped out of your body, you could feel the king’s most delicious semi, slick from your previous copulation, squish between you both.

Admitting on an exhale, “Forgot about them.”

“Everyone does.” He agreed, surveying down, taking in the sight of you. “My country appreciates you. They’re fond of you. You’re in all the papers and they’ve given you a nickname.”

And that. That. Nearly killed the mood.

It sent your eyebrows together dubiously so.

Everytime you were in the press it was when your skirt had been blown up on a windy day, or if you’d accidentally gotten food on your shirt. Or that time a baby goat pooped on your shoes. Or when you’d tripped and fallen off a dock into a lake. Who could forget that time you’d accidentally called the Prime Minister of Canada a ‘moose fucking cannibal’ when you’d still been getting the hang of the language, your first year on the job?

You’d been affectionately dubbed, ‘the King’s Foreign Devil’ and it had stuck.

Hell, you still got asked about your thoughts on the Canadian Prime Minister whenever a member of the press was around.

“Most the time, you have a higher approval rating than I do,” he added. Much to the consternation of Maria Hill in PR. “Trust me. There is nothing my country loves more than a hard-working loyal servant of the people who talks shit about western leaders.”

Mood totally killed, you seethed and not for the first time, “That was an accident! I was trying to call him Canada’s Disney Prince.”

***

The note had been hand delivered to the palace and was now crumbled into a ball in the Queen Mother’s bedroom as she stormed off, once more, that early morning in a fury of rose satin and silk. Her perfume clouded around her, drifting behind her, much like the wake of a boat cutting through the water.

Thick carpets silenced her heels. Doors opened for her as she neared them, allowing her to not need to slow her step even for a second. Not a single moment wasted as she made her way through the private living quarters of the palace.

Down hallways and around corners, over to the rooms that her grown son had selected as his own.

It would have been so much easier if he would have just taken the rooms that his father had lived in.

Although, with the horrific memories attached to those rooms, how could she blame him when he elected not to? She had her own private rooms. The dead kings rooms were locked up tight and still not used. Abandoned like so much he’d done, started and accomplished in his life.

Upon coming to her only child’s rooms, those doors were held open for her and on she pressed on. Sailing through his rooms, one after another, until she got closer to his bedroom and could hear his shower which was the direction she headed.

A brief glance was made at the mess that was his bed.

A roll of her eyes was followed by a shake of her head.

Some things males never grew out of it seemed.

“Steven!” She called out in warning, should he be in the bathroom about to come out in the nude. Which was the last thing she wanted to see.

Not only was his bed a mess but his clothes from yesterday were all over the floor.

She had every intention of telling him that he needed to straighten up this mess before the cleaning staff came in his room. The last thing she wanted was for them to think he was messy and then tell their families and friends when they went home that the king had a messy bedroom and word would get out that her son was a slob. Ugh. No. She’d make sure that he straightened up.

Speaking of the devil.

As his shower ran, Steve peered out of the bathroom with a wet head. A midnight blue towel was wrapped around his waist. A toothbrush was in his hand. To Sarah, it was very clear that her grown son had not shaved yet either.

Seeing him in such a state that morning along with his messy room and the fact the shower was going wasting water. It did not make her mood any more agreeable.

Though her son was taller than her and considerably more muscular, she never feared him.

She knew he would never hurt her like his father had so many times. Towards the end, Steve had even defended her from his father’s physical attacks. Those days. They had been dark. Horrible. Terrible. When she noticed that her husband had begun to carry a knife to protect himself from his son. Well. What was she supposed to do?

Attacking her was one thing. Being violent towards her was one thing. There were some things that she learned to tolerate. It was unescapable. Their son though. To take a knife to their son? Her son? Sarah would never allow such a thing.

She was queen at the time.

It was not so difficult to get the drug that she put in her husband’s evening nightcap. She’d used all of it. Thrown the vial away the next day when she went to rouse the king as she did every morning, only to find him dead in his chair. Fireplace having long gone out. Slumped down. Cold. The coroner had said it was a heart attack. Exactly as she’d been told the drug would work. He’d been buried with no one the wiser. Not even Steve.

“Yes mother?”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “You are not growing another beard. Last time you looked like some man that lives up in the mountains in a tiny shack.”

Just as her own father once did, Steve’s eyebrows rose in surprise and question.

No. That was not why she was here.

Sarah had a higher calling that morning and straightening her slim shoulders, she so informed him. “Hope and Janet are here in the city. They’ve come for a surprise visit and will arrive at the palace within the hour.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed at her in response to her information.

It was horrifying. It was outrageous. It was not what he wanted to hear that morning one bit. Not at all. Not one single bit.

Hope and Janet?

Those were two names he never wanted to hear with the additional words being, ‘on their way’. No. Just no.

All he could say that was remotely civil, after what the then Princess Hope van Dyne had done, came out in something of a tone. “I don’t want to see either of them. If you want to see them, that’s your choice. Keep them away from me.”

Considering what the now Duchess Hope had spewed to every reporter, journalist and whomever with a platform…Sarah was a little surprised that Steve was being so kind.

She’d expected a bit more of a reaction from her son.

Could she be holding a bigger grudge against her one-time closest friend’s daughter? After what had happened, Queen Janet van Dyne had become somewhat distant. Which was not surprising. Hope had not broken the engagement gracefully. Nor had she been anything less than opinionated afterwards.

“I suspect she is in trouble,” Sarah confessed. “Why else would they come here? Considering everything that Hope has said over the years.”

Steam continued to seep through the cracked door.

Sarah was about to say something about the shower. Steve was wasting a considerable amount of hot water. She herself was leading the Go Green Initiative in the country and as she stated constantly, it all began at home.

“Mother, don’t take this the wrong way, but, I wouldn’t shit in Hope’s mouth if she was starving.”

Ah.

Perhaps she’d been too quick to judge Steve’s current opinion on the wayward duchess?

Pondering his statement, Sarah found herself looking for any way to come back with a counter when she noticed that the shower turned off. Which was odd. Shower’s didn’t turn themselves off.

What was even more peculiar, Steve reached back behind himself to shut his bathroom door.

It clicked.

Like a light going off.

How could she not have noticed? How could it not have been obvious?

Blue eyes that were a little softer than her son’s narrowed. “You aren’t alone.”

Silence.

Quiet.

Her pink lips opened in surprised. A question hovered on her tongue.

“No mother.”

“But…”

“Mother,” he implored as only a son could. “Not now. She would not want the first time she officially meets you to be when you’re dressed for the day and she is not.”

And though her son’s words were true. They were right. They were exactly what she would have wanted him to say and because she had raised him well, she was even proud that he had made such a quick decision. It wasn’t fair.

Sarah wanted to find out who you were. She wanted to meet the woman that her son was involved with. Was that so wrong? Sarah wanted to meet the woman that her son was considering marrying. There was so much she wanted to say to you, so much to teach you, so much she wanted to learn about you. Perhaps her desperation showed because her son reached out to place a hand on her elbow.

“If you can chase Hope and Janet away, we could have lunch together. The three of us. If not, dinner? Or even tomorrow. I’m not doing anything with Hope under this roof. Not after she referred to our country as a third world plus hellhole full of war criminals and superstitious backwoods heathens.”

Ah, so he did remember.

Those words had been seared into her memory as well. Sometimes Sarah wondered, as Steve had never really given much indication that he cared one way or the other what Hope had said. It was only after she began to speak unflatteringly about their people that he grew irritated, much like herself.

Although, what irritated Sarah more, was the quiet that came from the royal house of van Dyne and Pym a few countries over. Never once had Janet spoke up. Never had Janet said anything about her daughters outrageous remarks or behavior. Nor had she apologized.

Knowing her son, Sarah knew that he would never court anyone who was not kind or compassionate. Steve would never pick a Hope as his queen.

Up came a hand that bore a lovely ring decorated with fresh water pearls from their own waters. “I’ll have them gone before lunch and then we will all sit down together so I can finally meet her.”

[asset35-maya]

I am sleepy but I gotta make a request before the busy tomorrow so 2 things on my mind! Sleepy and the 'oh my god they were roomates' vine xD with any characters and aus I love everything you write anyways xD Happy timezones and best vibes your way >^<!! 💖💞💕💕

Oh my god, they were roommates…

//

“The rental market in Detroit is absolute shit! How dare these bloodsuckers charge such high rates for the most under-developed properties! This city’s going to the dogs!”

“Uh-huh.”

“You have to pay your own weight in gold just to live in a shoebox for a year. Nonsense!”

“Uh…”

“Are you even listening to me, Tina!

Tina?

Goddamnit Tina!”

Gavin thumped his fist on her desk, but Tina’s eyes barely flicked up from her phone.

“Oh my god, you sound like my grandpa…”

Gavin turned red and his brain buzzed with a thousand colourful retorts. He was just about to pick one when Tina stopped scrolling and turned her phone screen towards him.

CYBERSCALIA @ NEW JERICHO

The suburban paradise for executive androids and humans alike. Located 25 minutes drive from downtown Detroit, with a full amenities.

Gavin’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. He balked at her.

“You’re joking? How could I possibly…?”

“Get with the times, boomer…”

Tina lazily skimmed her thumb over the screen. The webpage promised plenty of greenery, good infrastructure and modest but spacious rooms. The extremely reasonable price tag was Gavin’s dream come true. He’d spent weeks apartment hunting in the wake of an early lease termination by his cantankerous landlord. Gavin knew he’d never find a better deal.

“Shit, this is so good, T! Why the phck does it have to be in that- that place!”

His friend arched a sceptical eyebrow.

“What place?”

“The Tincan ghetto!”

Tina smacked him on the arm. None too gently.

“It’s subsided public housing located in an android-friendly estate… because they’re the ones that need it most right now. And frankly, you seem to be in just as much need, so you should really get off that high horse.”

“Fine, fine. You’re right. I should seriously consider this place, even if my neighbours are gonna have more in common with my car than me. But damn, it seems a little too good to be true. There’s probably some fine print, hidden costs that’ll come out later.”

“Hmm… let’s see…”

Tina scrolled further and then let out a half-laugh. She held her phone up again.

“Nothing shady about the rates, but there is something you should know…”

At the risk of being called old again, Gavin squinted at the screen and read aloud.

“Bearing in mind the founding principles of New Jericho, all human occupants may only apply for tenancy in co-habitation with at least one android citizen of the United States of- JESUS PHCKING CHRIST! Absolutely not! I am not going to live with a plastic prick!”

//

Gavin had to get through half a bottle of wine before he could bear to scroll through the rental listings. Unlike other humans who had happily moved into New Jericho with their android friends or partners, he had to find an android who was also looking for a flatmate.

Some listings came from ardent supporters of Markus. These were the androids who wanted to ease the post-revolution transition by reaching out to humans. Some listings were put up by the android equivalent of frat boys. These individuals were clearly looking for someone on the fringes of human society, someone who could show them a good (if not illegal) time.

Other posts came from eccentric androids who craved company but had likely been rejected by their own kind. Gavin felt a strange twisting sensation, almost like pity, when he came across a post written entirely in third person by someone called Ralph.

He had almost given up hope when he came across a simple little listing for a two bedroom apartment in Cyberscalia.

RK900 #313 248 317 - 87: Seeking a neat, self-sufficient co-renter. Human or android, no preference. I spend most of my time working and will be out of your way for the better part of the day. I only ask for silence during my nighttime stasis cycles, timely payment of dues and upkeep of cleanliness.

Gavin sighed in relief.

//

“Your room is the first door on the left, mine is the second. The bathroom, laundry and kitchenette are shared, as is the living room. I scarcely find use for the latter, so you need not worry about my intruding on any of your social gatherings, or vice versa. As long as you adhere to the terms of the agreement, our paths will not cross much.”

The tall, stiff-necked android dropped a set of keys, both mechanical and digital, into Gavin’s open palm.

“Er thanks.. RK… sorry I forgot your full model number…”

“You may call me Nines. Although, I’d rather you didn’t call me much of anything. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

In a swish of black fabric, the android turned on his heel and disappeared into his room. Two rapid clicks indicated the shutting and locking of his door.

Gavin sighed and looked around the open-plan living room. It was nothing fancy, but it was far beyond any of the other properties he’d viewed in weeks of unsuccessful house-hunting.

He sat down on the simple black couch with a huff and contemplated his situation. He’d ended up where he’d truly never expected to go, but objectively speaking, things were good… barring the high-handed manner of his robot flatmate, but who gave a shit about that.

He pulled out his phone to text Tina his thanks.

//

“I can’t! I refuse to! It is a violation of my personal ethics and I will simply not take this assignment any further. Good day to you sir!”

Gavin nearly dropped his bowl of cereal one morning when his roommate burst out of his door and rushed into the open balcony.

He hadn’t seen Nines in days, which was perfectly normal. The android came and went at odd hours and made hardly any noise. It was almost like living alone. The only reminder of Nines’ presence was the sight of several dark shirts and trousers regularly hung out to dry on the rack above the washing machine.

Gavin set his bowl down and watched the android tightly grip the bars of the railing and take several unnecessary breaths to calm down. He’d seen deviant colleagues express emotion many times before, but this was the first time he witnessed such a potent mixture of rage and sorrow from a synthetic being.

Out of empathy, but mostly curiosity, Gavin approached cautiously.

“Hey Nines… is everything alright…?”

There was no response for several moments. Then Nines turned around with a grimace and hands held upwards in a placating gesture.

“I apologise for the disturbance. It was hypocritical of me to disrupt the very peace and quiet I demand of you.”

“Uh… no worries…? Are you okay?”

There was a flash of steel blue eyes.

Gavin kicked himself mentally as he realised too late that he’d broached uncharted territory. Their interactions didn’t extend beyond curt nods on the rare occasion they found each other in the same space. It was almost as if Nines engineered the lack of contact, which wouldn’t surprise Gavin at all if it were the case.

“I’m fine. I merely experienced some frustration with my work.”

Perhaps it was boredom, perhaps it was his usual lack of self-preservative instinct… Gavin threw caution to the winds.

“What do you actually do?”

Nines’ expression remained stoic but his LED went through a spectacular series of colours and flashes. His next words were reluctant.

“I’m a private investigator.”

“Oh shit! I’m actually a cop.”

Gavin pointed dumbly at himself and then let his hand drop when he saw absolutely no surprise cross the android’s face.

“I know. That’s why I let you stay with me.”

“For safety?”

“Certainly not for your fashion sense.”

“Wow okay, I didn’t think I’d be much protection for a big scary droid like you.”

Nines hummed dismissively and started to move out of the balcony, body language fully indicating the end of the conversation.

Unable to help himself for some strange reason, Gavin blurted out another ill-advised question.

“What pissed you off so much?”

Nines paused halfway through side-stepping the human. A thrill went through Gavin at the shards of ice he observed for the first time up close in Nines’ irises.

“If I tell you, will you promise to stop asking pointless questions?”

Gavin nodded earnestly, and frankly… rather foolishly.

“I helped a client gather evidence to initiate divorce proceedings on the grounds of infidelity. I provided ample photo and video evidence for his lawyers to work with. Now they want me to keep following the spouse to capture more details that could gear any future settlement in his favour.”

“So what’s your problem?”

“They’re offering me an incredible amount of cash to follow her 24/7. To stake out her workplace, her gym, her parent’s home. They want me to crouch under the window of the bedroom where her children sleep. I can do a lot of things, but not that. It’s deeply insulting that they even asked. That’s why I was so… pissed.”

Nines slipped past and was nearly back to his bedroom when Gavin spoke.

“I respect that.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“I know, but for real though, I think ethics are important in our line of work. Not just because of we need morals or a sense of right or wrong blablabla, but because we need… clarity.”

Silence floated through the hallway as Nines paused with a hand on his doorframe.

“Clarity?”

“Yeah, like a sense of direction. We don’t just take cases right-left-centre because they make us money. I mean, we could, and people do… but they never become specialists or experts of any kind. You gotta strategise if you want a career. Ethics helps with that. I think…”

Gavin wasn’t sure what made him say any of that. He was neither one for small talk, nor a man of many words… but something about Nines prompted that unusual level of introspective discourse.

“Sorry that was weird. Never mind.”

“That was actually… very astute.”

Their eyes met and Gavin could’ve sworn he saw the hint of a smile.

“It’s good to see that not all humans are as one-dimensional as I thought.”

The door clicked shut, but there was no locking sound.

//

Since the morning of Nines’ uncharacteristic outburst, the frequency of their encounters in the common areas of the apartment increased. Wordless nods became hellos, and hellos eventually became full sentences.

Not that he’d admit it, Gavin actually looked forward to enquiring about the android’s day and the cases he was working on. It was utterly fascinating to hear about legal investigations without the constraints of police procedure.

For his part, Nines would share as much as he had the patience to, before disappearing into the confines of his room. Though the time he spent outside steadily increased every day.

Another morning, while Gavin was making his coffee, Nines emerged from his room, still in his pyjamas and looking as livid as he had the time before. Gavin had never seen him in anything but crisply ironed businesswear. Before he could voice any concern, Nines stiffly asked Gavin to keep a lookout for a homicide suspect.

He nodded and immediately reached for his phone to text the sergeant on duty at his station. By midday, there was an arrest.

That evening, when Gavin settled in front of the TV with his usual glass of wine, he heard the familiar sound of Nines’ door opening. The couch dipped beside him.

“Thank you.”

“Just did my job. I should thank you for the tip.”

“Hmm.”

Gavin chanced a glance at his roommate, and found him looking right back.

“What?”

“Nothing… I just had the realisation that much of my work is impotent without the authority and means to take any kind of action.”

The sitcom began to play and Gavin thumbed the remote to reduce the volume.

“Takes all kinds to keep the streets clean. PIs can do things cops can’t. We rely on guys like you for intel all the time, you know.”

“I know.”

No words were exchanged for a while thereafter. Gavin found himself unable to focus on the TV show with all the brooding energy emanating from his right.

“If you feel like being a private eye doesn’t make enough of a difference, then why didn’t you… um… you know…”

“Join law enforcement?”

“Yup.”

“Plenty of my fellow androids have done so. I know for a fact that my predecessor model chose to remain there. You might know him.”

“Connor? Yes. Very annoying.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

“Totally. But why didn’t you join too? You’d be brilliant on the Force.”

“My skillset is certainly well-suited, but I didn’t want to become another puppet of the state.”

Gavin really didn’t know what to say to that. He nodded uncertainly and looked back at the television. He wasn’t sure why Nines was suddenly this social.

“What are you… watching?”

Androids could scan and detect just about anything in the world, so there had to be something else to the question. Gavin, strangely, was happy to oblige.

//

Nines made an appearance every evening, without fail. He would sit through the TV shows if they were of interest, or he would bring his case material and notes to the coffee table to work in silence beside Gavin.

Sometimes Gavin liked to work on jigsaw puzzles on the dining table. Nines would sit beside him, pretending to read a paperback novel, but actually scanning the puzzle and passing the right pieces over from time to time.

Against all odds, an evening ritual and a tentative friendship developed. It was simple, but it was warm. Comfortable. Like nothing Gavin had ever had before, even with humans.

//

He awoke one morning with a slight crick in his neck but the feeling of being very well-rested.

His eyes flickered open and fell upon the window. Familiar greenery came into view… but wait… had everything slightly shifted to the left? And was that the New Jericho Capitol building? He couldn’t see that from his room! There was a tree in the way! A tree that was now a few feet away from where it used to be.

Gavin sat up in alarm as he realised that he was not in his own bed. His heart flew into his throat as Nines walked through the open doorway. Shirtless and carrying a mug of blue liquid.

“Oh good, you’re up.”

“Wha-what happened!?”

Nines frowned and sat down on the edge of the bed. He set the mug on the floor and pulled on a plain black t-shirt.

“You passed out on the couch last night. I think you finished a whole bottle waiting up for me? Sorry, I was out working later than expected.”

Gavin looked down and sighed in relief as he found all his clothes still on him.

“I didn’t want you to injure yourself sleeping at an odd angle so I brought you here. Your door was locked.”

“You could’ve easily opened it.”

“Yes, but that would’ve been an invasion of privacy. I reserve that for working hours alone.”

Gavin looked deep into the sparkling blue eyes and as usual found no trace of humour.

“Thanks…”

“Don’t mention it. Now get out. You’re ruining my silk sheets.”

//

Against his best efforts, Gavin could not keep the thought of being carried to bed and tucked in safely out of his mind. How many years had it been? Since something like that had been even remotely possible for him?

He knew that Nines was just being kind in his own pragmatic little way… but Gavin found that he wouldn’t mind the prospect of waking up in the android’s bed in a wildly different context.

He realised he had it bad when Tina caught him smiling to himself at work one day.

“Why so happy?”

“Oh… nothing. Just remembered something my roommate did… He’s a… funny guy.”

“Huh. Well, look at you getting along so well with androids.”

“Android. Singular. Just him.”

“Wowwww… he sounds special.”

//

“Who did this?”

“Gavin, the damage is merely superficial-”

“Who phcking did this??!”

He reached forward and gingerly touched Nines’ split cheek. His synth skin was smeared with blue blood and glitching in and out. Nines winced at the contact.

“Shit, sorry. That must hurt like a bitch.”

“Androids do not feel pain.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m merely experiencing a surge in sensory input wherever my chassis is exposed. I’m fine.”

“Shut up and give me your first aid kit or whatever toolbox equivalent you tincans have.”

A shade of embarrassment appeared over the android’s features.

“I… actually don’t have one. I didn’t think I’d ever need it.”

“Didn’t think anyone could kick your ass, huh?”

“No… I didn’t think anyone would ever spot my hiding place.”

“Huh. How’d that happen?”

Nines’ eyes dipped, but as always, he answered the question.

“I was… distracted.”

Something in the air solidified and both of them felt it. Gavin cleared his throat and slapped his knees like an old man about to stand up.

“Right. Let me go check if the neighbours have anything that might help with your face.”

//

“So who’s this dapper young gent you’ve brought to the party, Gavin?”

“Er… he’s my uh… roommate.”

Captain Fowler nodded and winked.

“That’s what they called it in my day too.”

Nines shifted beside Gavin and cleared his throat.

“He’s a PI. But I think he’s wasting his talent taking pictures of cheating spouses. He’s quite interested in police work. Maybe we could get him to assist on a couple cases now and then?”

Fowler put down his drink and extended a warm hand to Nines.

//

“Oh thank RA9!”

Nines came running to the cluster of police cars and enveloped him in a giant hug. Gavin laughed as he patted him weakly on the back.

“Watch the ribs, big guy.”

“I was so worried.”

“Why? Your info was good. No chance of error.”

“I meant about you.”

Gavin pulled back and regarded Nines with confusion. The flashing red and blue lights of the cars made it hard to read his LED.

“Why?”

“I can’t believe you have to ask.”

The android pulled him into a bruising kiss. The officers standing nearby broke into wolf-whistles and applause.

“What the-”

“Oh I take full credit for that, sir.”

Fowler glanced at Tina.

“The case, Chen?”

“Oh of course. I solved the whole thing. But I mean that specifically.”

She waved a hand in Gavin and Nines’ direction. The two held each other tightly and seemed unlikely to come up for air anytime soon.

“Like I helped Gav find an affordable place in New Jericho and then he met this handsome investigator droid and they were roommates.”

“Oh my god, they were roommates…”

“Yeah legit.”

//

\\\

Thanks so much for the request @jude-shotto

This ended up being a lot longer than expected, but I couldn’t help it. Your prompt just took me on a whole journeyyyy <3

[novaiya]

Diamonds & Rust Part II - Arthur x Reader (NSFW)

Part I

Summary: It’s been three years since that fateful night. Three years during which you couldn’t stop thinking about him. Now, the fate once again brought the two of you together. Was it for the last time, or was something else bound to happen?

Words: 8k

Warnings: Cheating, F!Reader, Smut

A/N: If you prefer to read this on AO3, click here. This took me two months to write LOL But in the end, I’m very pleased with how it turned out.

Your hand shook as you held the pen above the crisp, spotless paper. You took a deep breath, writing the date, but couldn’t proceed beyond that. You dropped the pen and planted your elbows on the table, hiding your face in your hands. 

It’s been three years since you last saw each other. Three years since you were held in his hands and caressed by his lips. The time you shared on that cold, foggy night felt both lightyears and a touch away. You thought it to be a perfect, picturesque ending to your imperfect relationship, like a final scene in a play, but it seemed it was merely an intermission.

After a few moments of rest you wrote, “Dear Arthur” and spilled out the reason for your letter. Few nights ago, your ranch was attacked by a group of local cattle rustlers. Seeing how well your ranch was doing, they wanted their cut, and when you stood your ground, they were less than happy. They left you alone for the moment, but promised to be back in numbers, and that they were. Not a couple of days later, you were woken up in the middle of the night to the sound of gunshots and a fire outside your window. Like they promised, they were back and ready to take what they felt they were entitled to. You watched them take away your cattle and set fire to your barn as your husband hastily packed up your valuables, and not shortly after, you were on your wagon, bound for your mother-in-law’s house, barely escaping the flames and the bullets. 

You signed off with your name and an address of where you were staying, and with fleeing hope, posted the letter the next day.

As you patiently awaited Arthur’s reply or an arrival, a curious elephant entered your household that neither you or your husband were ready to address. The woman that your husband knew you as was a kind, gentle woman who’s biggest crime was accidentally buying two gallons of milk and only paying for one. He never saw, or could imagine you carrying a weapon, and for all he knew, you didn’t know how to use one. The woman he saw during the attack, however, he did not know. She skillfully held the shotgun in her hands, dropped the slugs in without even looking and didn’t fall backwards when the recoil hit. She had a fire in her eyes that threatened to overpower the one outside, and for a second, even he, her husband, was afraid of her. Having been born to a simple family in which his mother was gentle and submissive, serving as a pliable partner to his father, he was shocked to see you so strong and hard. He was still deciding what he thought of this discovery of this new you, and during that time, you could feel him drift away.

You didn’t miss the change in him, how he eyed you from the corner of his eyes during dinner time, or the cold space between the two of you when you went to bed. It hurt and it stung and it made you long for Arthur’s arrival so much more. With him, there were no secrets you had to hide. You never went to bed with a fear that one day your facade would fall apart, and he would shriek at seeing the real you. From the beginning, he knew everything there was to know about you, and accepted it. What some would see as character flaws, he simply saw as character traits that made you who you were. With him, you could be you, something that you realized you couldn’t be with your husband. When the two of your married, you hoped that it would put a final nail in the coffin of your past self, but it seemed that your past self refused to die, and your husband shrieked at seeing the dead corpse. 

__________________

“There’s a letter for you, Arthur,” said Miss Grimshaw as she passed Arthur who was hitching his horse to a hitching post.

He thanked her and made his way to his tent where an envelope laid on his cot.

“Let’s see,” he said to himself as he tore the envelope open and pulled out a piece of paper. As he read your name on the bottom of the paper, he felt a familiar pang that the thought of you always brought to him. He skimmed through the rest of the letter, plucking the main points as well as your address before shoving the paper in his satchel and making his way to the back of the wagon that served as a wall to his tent. He looked over a map that was there, calculating how long it would take to get to you. Eight hours, he thought, six if he cut on any unnecessary breaks and sleep. He once again made his way around the wagon and went to a chest at the end of his cot, picking out a pair of fresh clothes and other necessary items for the trip. He was doing everything on autopilot, for his mind was too clouded with the thoughts of you to pay attention to what his hands were doing. He remembered your last meeting, and how it opened so many old wounds and created even more new ones. In that moment, when the two of you held each other, whispered love confessions into the silent night, he felt as if he was on cloud nine, but when he left, the blow was just as strong.   

When he finished packing, he looked around; Pearson and Abigail were busy chopping vegetables, with little Jack sitting at his mother’s feet. Dutch and Molly were in their tent, talking (arguing would be a better word). The girls were doing chores, with Miss Grimshaw watching over them and correcting their techniques. Most of the men were out on jobs, leaving only Javier standing at guard duty. Even though everyone had free rein to come and go whenever they pleased, Arthur especially, he didn’t want to be asked unnecessary questions, so he waited until Javier was on the other side of the perimeter to mount his horse and ride away to you.

__________________

As you sat at the dining room table of Bertha’s, your mother-in-law, house, you kept praying that Arthur got your letter and found it in himself to help you. You found yourself thinking that maybe it might’ve gotten lost, or perhaps the rain soaked the envelope and the letter to the point it had to be thrown away. With nothing to do but wait, you kept fidgeting with your dress as you sat by the table, only to promptly raise up when you heard the sound of the hoofbeats approach. You pushed the front door open with a smile as hopeful as that of a child, for it to only fall apart when you saw that it was your husband, coming back from a run to the town for provision. The change in your expression didn’t go unnoticed by him, but he didn’t say anything, and just kissed your cold cheek as he moved past you into the house. 

“You still think he’ll come?” your husband asked one morning as he sat at the dining room table and you washed the dishes. It’s been about a week since you posted the letter, and Arthur still hasn’t come. You were beginning to lose hope, but didn’t show it.

“I’m sure,” you said, not turning away from the dishes in your hands. You told your husband that you knew someone who could help, and when he inquired who it might be, you told him it was a friend from your past life, someone who helped you get back on your feet after you lost your parents. That didn’t satisfy his curiosity, so he pried on. Answering his questions was like walking through a field full of landmines. Every answer had to be calculated, giving just enough information to satisfy his curiosity and not to lead to more questions. At the end of the conversation, you were hopeful that the newfound information you shared would bring you two back together, but in fact, it did the opposite, and he felt that there was even more he didn’t know about you. 

As you washed the dishes, you looked through the window in front of you and felt thunder run through your entire being. You could never mistaken that mare for anyone else, with her unique coat and her silky locks; it was Boadicea, and with her, someone else you could never mistaken; Arthur. You watched him through the dirty kitchen window as he hitched Boadicea to a tree nearby and made his way to the house in strong, long strides. You dropped the dishes back into the sink with a splash and ran to the door, opening it as Arthur was about to knock.

“Arthur,” you said with a smile that lit up your whole face. 

He could feel his heartbeat all over his body as he was met with your face. Your smile made your entire face glow, and he could see sparkles in your eyes as you looked at him. Knowing that he was the reason for your reaction, he could feel the familiar haze of feelings cloud his entire being. 

He spoke your name in return, his voice enveloping each syllable with affection and tenderness that couldn’t be mistaken for anything else, and which your husband could hear from where he sat at a dining room table. 

The two of you stood at the threshold for a brief moment, caught up in each other’s eyes and closeness. You fought the urge to embrace him, to kiss him and to tell him how much you missed him, and he did the same. Instead, you moved away and motioned for him to get inside. As he did so, he almost instantly met eyes with your husband, who rose up from his seat to greet the man.

“Roy Dorset,” your husband said as he extended his hand.

“Arthur Morgan.”

As you watched, the two men shared an awkward, silent handshake, during which you had a chance to compare and contrast the two of them. You certainly had a type, you though, as you looked at the men before you, both of them tall and handsome. There were, however, noticeable distinctions that differentiated them, and served as a representation of the person you were with each of them. Roy, being a part time rancher and a part time bookkeeper for a general store in your town, was dressed as a man about town with carefully ironed pants, clean shirt and a vest with all the buttons attached. He was a proper god-fearing, law-abiding man who had traditional standards for people, some of which you sometimes felt you couldn’t reach yourself. 

Arthur, in contrast, was dressed haphazardly, wearing old, patched jeans, boots that have seen better days and a shirt that has clearly been washed many times over. By his look, you could tell Arthur didn’t care what others thought of him. He wore - and did - what he wanted, without a care for other people’s opinion. He didn’t hide himself behind anything, and that’s what you wished you could do now.

After a moment of pleasantries, the three of you sat at the dining room table to discuss the matter at hand. You sat at the head of the table, with Roy to your left and Arthur to your right. You and Roy explained what happened at the ranch, adding details that you forgot to write about in the letter. At some point as the three of you talked,

your daughter came up to the table. With her grandmother asleep and all of her toys left at home, she had nothing to do, so she decided to join you.

You hoisted her up to your lap and let her stay with you as you continued talking.

Despite the conversation still going, Arthur lost all attention as soon as he saw your daughter. What shocked him first was that you had a daughter in the first place, but what shocked him even more was how little the girl looked like your husband. While still trying to seem as he was listening, Arthur inconspicuously kept looking between your daughter and your husband. While Roy had dark, brown hair, the little girl in your lap had light, dirty blonde locks. Her eyes, which were traveling all over the room, looking for something to busy herself with, were a whirlpool of green and blue, while Roy’s, which at the moment were looking down on his lap, were a dull, brown shade. Suddenly, realization hit Arthur. He started to think back on your last encounter. Could it be? He tried to figure out how old the child was, and tried to remember the time of the year when the two of you were together. He could feel himself getting lightheaded as all the thoughts filled his mind, making him not hear his own name being called.

“Arthur,” you said once again when he didn’t answer you the first time. As if being pulled out from a dream, he looked around, suddenly forgetting where he was.

“I said, what do you think about the plan?” you said, looking at Arthur at the same time as the girl in your lap.

Arthur could feel all the eyes on him, and a color painted his face. He could faintly remember what you talked about a moment ago. Something about the best path to take back to the ranch, how dangerous the road might be with wolves roaming around. After a moment of pause, he returned with, “Sounds good to me,” and the conversation went on, with Arthur still barely paying attention.

_________________

You carefully slipped out of the covers, trying not to wake your husband up, before walking across the room on your tiptoes, opening the door and leaving the room. You couldn’t sleep. With Arthur’s proximity, you found yourself laying in bed with the thoughts of him. You tried to squash those pesky thoughts, turned from one side to the other in your bed as you kept telling yourself that you couldn’t, shouldn’t do it despite how much you wanted to. As you looked at your husband, his face illuminated by the light from the moon outside, you thought of doing to him what you did to Arthur all those years ago. You left Arthur for a search for a better, calmer and stable life, and now you want to leave that life to go back to Arthur.

You leaned against the kitchen counter as you poured yourself a glass of whiskey, looking out of the window into the world outside. With it being late fall, some trees have already shed their leaves, leaving once bushy woods stripped. You could see birds, once hidden from the prying eyes by the leaves now on full display on the branches. They were close enough that you could hear them sing, but not enough to understand what it is they were saying.

Suddenly, you heard the wood planks squeak behind you and smiled. 

“Can’t sleep either?” you said without turning around.

“No,” Arthur replied as he went to stand next to you.

Without another word you took a shot glass and poured him one.

“Thank you for coming,” you said as you gave him the glass. “I was worried you wouldn’t.”

“‘Course I would,” he said before swinging back the shot. 

At finally having a moment alone with him, you were fighting back the urge to spill everything that’s been on your mind, to ask every question and tell every answer that you’ve been holding for the past three years and for the past few hours that he’s been here. You decided it’s best to start off slowly.

“How have you been? How’s the gang?”

“Fine, I guess,” he said as he turned around to lean against the counter, crossing his hand on his chest. “Picked up a few people along the way. The gang’s twice its size now.”

You nodded at his answer.

“Seems you’ve had an addition too.”

The statement made heat rise to your face, and you swallowed down, nodding again. 

“What’s her name?” he asked after a few moments of silence.

“Lily.”

“Beautiful name,” he said. “How old is she?”

“Three,” you said, knowing very well where this was going. 

“Is she mine?” His voice was calm and reticent despite the fact that his mind was racing so fast he thought he was going to faint no matter what your answer was.

You closed your eyes, letting the weight of his question wash over you. The question that was lingering in the air since the moment your daughter was born, and that only became stronger when Arthur came today, was finally asked. To your own surprise, you felt yourself relax after a few seconds had passed. With the question being finally asked, you could feel the weight of it lifted from your shoulder.

“I don’t know,” you said, turning your head away

“What do you mean you don’t know?” he returned, somewhat exasperated.

“I don’t know, Arthur,” you repeated, your voice more stern, but still hushed as to not wake anyone up. “I don’t know.” You lowered your head before speaking again. “I don’t know. Roy and I were trying during that time.”  

You held yourself in your hands, your head hanging low. About three years ago, Roy and you have been trying for months to get pregnant. Nothing was happening, until suddenly, it did. Roy was overjoyed, feeling that Isis has finally shined her light on the two of you. You, however, knew it took more than an Egyptian goddess of fertility to bring you to the situation at hand. Right away, you did the math, and despite how much you tried to tell yourself that the days could be a little bit off, the numbers didn’t lie. It only became more apartment when your daughter was born; within a few days, you could see traces of him in her; her light hair, her blue eyes. Even her lips and nose looked like his. She was a visual reminder, everyday, of what you and Arthur could have had.

“She looks like me, you know,” Arthur said, walking around to stand in front of you, his proximity making your heartbeat quicken like it always did.

“I know,” you said, your voice barely audible.

“What if she’s mine?”

You didn’t say anything, keeping your head low and your eyes focused on the ground until you felt his hand, soft and warm on your cheek, making you look up. 

You felt enveloped in his love as you looked into his eyes. They were kind and inviting as he looked at you, and without saying anything, they offered shelter from all the worries of life.

His thumb traced your lower lip and you involuntarily opened your mouth, gasping. He stepped a little bit closer, pushing you against the counter with his body, making you feel all of him against you, the thin material of his union suit not leaving an inch of space between the two of you.

“I missed you,” he said. 

He pressed his lips softly against yours, giving you a chance to slip away if you so desired to. You didn’t, waving your hands in his hair and bringing him closer instead, deepening the kiss. You hated yourself for not being stronger, for not resisting your inner desires. You hated how with just a touch, he had you under his control. His hands ran down your sides, following your curves from your chest over your waist and to your hips, stopping there. One of your hands reached out to touch his cheek, feeling a light stubble there (he went to you right away after finishing a mission, not having a chance to even shave) You remembered the night the two of you shared three years ago, how the feeling of his lips lingered on your for months after. 

You wanted to get lost in the kiss, in him, but suddenly, a voice coming from the stairs pulled you out of your reverie, and the two of you broke apart as fast as you came together. You were slightly panting, both from the kiss and from the rush of anxiety at being caught. You looked up at the stairs from where the voice came, and after a few moments, two small feet came into the light, padding barefoot down the stairs.

“What are you doing here, sweetheart?” you said as you kneeled down to look at your daughter. 

One of her hands held onto the arm of her stuffed bear, a friend who kept her company at night, while the other brushed the sleep out of her eyes, trying to stay awake long enough to talk to you. “Grandma’s snoring,” she drew before yawning.

You smiled, ruffling her blonde locks a bit before saying, “Well, you can sleep with daddy and me tonight then.” 

Arthur stood a few feet away, watching the two of you without saying a word. He could feel resentment bubbling in him at your husband, and at the same time, himself. Despite how much he wanted to put all the blame on Roy (for “stealing” you), he realized that the only person he had to blame was himself. If he wasn’t so stupid all those years ago, if he just took your hand and let you lead him out of the outlaw life, this - a life with a house, a daughter and you as his wife - could’ve all been his. “Darlin’, right now ain’t a good time,” he would say when you would press him about finally making your escape. “We need more money if we wanna start on our own” would be another of his excuses. Truth be told, as much as he wanted to start a fresh, new life with you, he was afraid. Outlaw life was everything he’d ever known. He was raised and became the man he was today in it. He was terrified that out there, in the world of law and order, in which one woke up in the morning to start a day of work, and had proper suppers at the table with their family, he wouldn’t survive.

The sound of Lily’s voice, calling for him, pulled him out of his thoughts. Her clear, blue eyes, looked up at him as she asked him if he was her mother’s friend. You turned around to look at Arthur, and after a few seconds he said, “Yeah, I am. Something like that.” She smiled in return, calmed at knowing that the strange, big man was not a stranger at all but a friend. As you picked her up, ready to take her to bed, she introduced herself to Arthur, and asked him what his name was. He introduced himself, and in return, she said, “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Arthur.” You didn’t know why, but at seeing the scene play out, you could feel tears well up in your eyes. It could’ve all been so different, you thought. The three of you were so close at being a family, practically looked like one right now. You took a shaky breath, trying to calm yourself down before murmuring that it’s already too late, and walking over to your bedroom door with your daughter in your hands. You stopped at the door for a second, fumbling with the door knob. Arthur watched your back as you stood, your daughter’s head peeking from behind your shoulder, before you turned the knob and disappeared into the room. 

He stood in the dark, empty dining room for a few more minutes, going over the scene that just unfolded a million times. He could feel the weight of everything crushing him down, breaking his bones and turning them into dust. He leaned heavily against the kitchen counter, shaking his head.

“Idiot,” he said to himself before taking the bottle of whiskey and pouring himself another shot. 

______________

The sound of birds singing outside accompanied you as you woke up. It was still early and no one was up yet, so you got ready without any hurry before going into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Not a while later, Bertha joined you in the kitchen, and the two of you had everything ready right as the men came to take their seats at the table.

You kept quiet as you ate breakfast, with Arthur sitting across from you, Lily next to him, and Roy next to you. Bertha, being the kind host that she was, something that she got used to from the years of marriage to an army Sergeant, couldn’t sit still and continued to check up on everybody, pouring coffee even when the cups were halfway full and making sure there were no empty plates on the table. It was only when Roy said, “Enough, mother” did she take a seat at the head of the table and started her own meal.

As you ate your breakfast, Roy and Arthur talked, discussing once again the best route to take back to the ranch. Despite not planning on going himself, Roy still wanted to make sure his opinion on the matter was considered and suggested the main road, which although would take longer, was safer from wild animals and any “savage outlaws that roamed the plains.” Arthur snickered at his choice of words, and noted that if he wanted to “come back to a ranch and not heap of ash, a shortcut is a better option.” Roy didn’t reply anything and turned back to his meal.

As Bertha sipped on her coffee, she turned to face you and asked, “Are you going too?”

“No,” both Roy and Arthur said in unison, and “Yes,” said you.

An awkward silence fell over as the three of you looked between each other. You could feel the men eyeing you in bafflement, Roy especially, but you looked at Arthur and spoke to him first.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” you said, disbelief painted all over your face.

Arthur shook his head, looking away and furrowing his brows.

“You’re not coming, it’s too dangerous,” he said, turning back to face you.

You let out a small chuckle before saying, “We’ve faced far more dangerous things than some puny cattle rustlers.”

Arthur dropped his fork and knife on the table with a loud thud and said, “You have a daughter now, I ain’t gonna let you put yourself in harm's way.”

“But you’re gonna let yourself get in harm's way?” you returned, tilting your head and squinting your eyes at him.

“They know who you are, they don’t know me,” he said, the volume of his voice long past what was appropriate for a breakfast conversation. “I can get in and out and they won’t know what hit em”

“And do you expect me to just sit patiently and wait?” you said, throwing your hands around. “What if something goes wrong? What if they’re more dangerous than we thought? Am I supposed to just wait till someone brings in your body?” Your words began to tangle in each other, becoming almost incoherent as you spoke faster than your mind could process. They, however, were cut short as Arthur shouted your name and hit his palm down on the table, making a glass of water spill.

Finally, the silence fell over the dining room once again and the only thing that could be heard were drops of water hitting the floor. Both Bertha and Roy sat wearing similar expressions, their mouths hanging open, eyes wide at what they just saw and heard. They felt like spectators, watching a play unfold before their eyes.

As you tried to calm yourself down, you remembered how back when you were in the gang, the two of you almost never went on missions without each other. At first, it bothered Dutch that if he wanted to send you on a mission, Arthur was bound to come along (and vice versa), but soon, he came to accept that the two of you were a package deal. He even took a notice that the jobs went smoother when the two of you were together, evident by the fact that you would get the job done quicker, and your gains were higher than those that Arthur and you brought when you went separately.

“You know I can’t let you go alone, Arthur,” you said after some time.

As if riding down the same memory lane you just did, he sighted and shook his head. 

“I know,” he said before getting up from the table and going over to the room where he stayed.

Slightly shaken up from the intense display that took place, Bertha got up from the table, and without a word started cleaning up, taking empty plates and cups and putting them in the sink. You sat with your eyes closed, taking deep breaths, and bracing yourself for what was to come. You could already feel Roy open his mouth, could already hear his voice…

  Arthur was haphazardly throwing his stuff in his bag, crumpling his shirts and pants into balls and pushing them into his bag as if the clothes themselves were at fault for his mood. He remembered how much fun the two of you had when you went on the jobs together. How the sight of blood and the smell of gunpowder did nothing more than excite you. A smile broke through his solemn face at the memory. But now, he thought, it was different. Not only had it been years since you were in the line of fire, but you now had a child. Your life has changed, you got away, broke free from the never ending nightmare in which one has to always look behind their back and sleep with one eye open and a gun under their pillow. He didn’t want you back into that kind of life, if it could even be called that. Deep in his mind, however, he knew it wasn’t for him to decide.

He ran a hand through his hair, leaning over a dresser and closing his eyes. He could’ve probably plunged deeper into his thoughts, but a sound of hushed tones outside got his attention, and he straightened up, inching closer to the door and pressed his ear against it. 

  “I was okay with your past, but this is pushing it,” Roy said.

“Is my past pushing it?”

“Your past is in the guest bedroom, getting dressed.”

Your shoulders slumped as a heavy sigh left your lips. You and Roy have been bickering for the past five minutes. Truth be told, the bickering has been going on for the past few days, but only now has it culminated. The tension that he felt between you and Arthur just a few minutes ago drove him over the edge - the edge to which he came from seeing you hold a gun, hearing more about your past and now, seeing Arthur - and he found himself not being able to hold his thoughts and feelings in any longer. Just like it always happened with couples who started arguing about one thing, only to move on to a completely unrelated one, you both got defensive. The conversation was fruitless. Nothing of the matter was discussed, no solution was reached and everyone was left thinking the other was in the wrong, leaving the two of you sitting next to each other like strangers in a train station, waiting for the next train.

“I’m doing this for us, Roy,” you said.

“You’re doing this for yourself,” he spit out before adding, a little bit softer, “You’ve changed a lot in these couple of weeks. I feel like I don’t know who you are anymore.”

You felt yourself detach from the world upon hearing his words. You could faintly hear him continue talking, referencing the relationship between his mother and father, and how the former always consulted her husband before any major decision, but you were not listening. You smiled weakly to yourself at the irony that upon showing him the real you, with all your past and your secrets, he said he didn’t know you anymore. Didn’t know, or he didn’t want to, you thought. Your mind instantly went back to Arthur, like it often tended to these past few days, and you thought of how from the beginning, he knew who you were, and without a word, accepted and loved you.

“You ready?”

Arthur’s voice pulled you out of your mind, and stopped Roy in his speech. You looked at Arthur, and then at Roy. For the first time since you got married, you didn’t feel anything when looking into your husband's eyes. You could see him plead, silently, for you not to go.

Without saying a word, you got up from your chair and went to your room to get 

ready.

_________________

  You turned your head around to watch your husband stand on the porch as you and Arthur roared off to your destination. You wondered what he thought as his figure grew smaller and smaller till he completely disappeared behind the trees. You turned back forward, spurring your horse.

The feeling of being back on a horse, with an iron on your hip and wind in your hair was exhilarating. You could feel life flow through your veins as you held the reins. Through clear plains, mountains and forests, the two of you rode non-stop for a few hours. There was not a single person on your way, only occasional elks, deers, and raccoons accompanying you on the journey. For a moment, you felt like you were once again an outlaw. All of this felt so familiar; you and Arthur, adrenaline in your veins, dirt road ahead. For a moment, you caught yourself thinking that if it weren’t for your daughter back home, you simply would’ve kept riding on.

As you kept going, the sun slowly began to set, painting the road in front of you in orange. 

“Let’s make camp,” Arthur said when the sun completely disappeared, and the night loomed over.

As you found a secluded space in the woods, the two of you fell into a long-established routine, with you going out to get some firewood and Arthur hunting a rabbit for the two of you to eat. The night might’ve been a bit chilly, but with the campfire next to you and the rum Arthur found in his satchel, the two of you were nice and warm as you enjoyed food, drinks and conversations that piled up from years apart. 

Your combined laughs could be heard all throughout the forest as Arthur told you about the latest predicament that John got himself into, and which he of course had to save him from. Sounds like John, you thought. You couldn’t tell how many times you and Arthur were sent to rescue him from some sort of trouble. Being the youngest, John always felt that he had to prove something to someone, which in the end, only proved that he was still the baby of the gang (despite at that point being a full grown adult).

Gradually, the laughter died down, but the smile still lingered on your lips.

“What are you so happy about?” Arthur said.

You looked into the fire, watching the flames dance and reach towards the sky, as you answered. “It’s been so long since I felt so at ease, so free…” you said.“I just-I’m real happy being here.”

Arthur hummed at your answer before saying, “Ranch life ain’t cutting it for you no more?”

“A woman can only shovel shit for so long,” you said, making Arthur chuckle. You took another swig of the rum before passing it to Arthur.

“I took this all for granted when we was together,” you said, looking around, “the freedom, the nature, the road. And now when I don’t have it, I crave it.”

You looked up, catching Arthur’s gaze and holding it as you continued. 

“I find myself so often thinking about the past,” you said and added, a little lower, “about you, how much I miss it all.”

Arthur could already feel the effect of your words on him, could already feel the intensity with which his heart beat faster. Hearing you say those words, sparked a flame in him. Only a few seconds passed before you continued speaking, but it was enough for Arthur to imagine, for a brief moment, a future with the two of you together. Could it be possible? Did he still have a chance at the happy ever after? He always was a firm believer that you can’t expect good things to happen to you while doing bad things, but in that instance, he allowed himself to believe that something good could happen.

“Oh, Arthur,” you said, shaking your head, “I think I made a mistake all those years ago.” 

The camp was silent except for the crackling of fire as your words hung in the air. Unlike a few years ago, you didn’t backtrack on your words, didn’t feel embarrassed by them. You meant every syllable and every letter. As much as you adored your current life, with your cows and your ranch, you found yourself thinking more often that you weren’t meant for it. You were tired of playing the role of the doting housewife, a rancher, shoveling shit and milking cows. The real you was out there, among the horses and the gun smoke. The thought only got stronger the closer you were to Arthur, and now that you were sitting next to each other, your thighs almost touching together, it reached its pinnacle.

No more words needed to be said as you held Arthur’s gaze. Everything has been said years ago. You stood up and got into his lap, draping your hands over his shoulders while his instantly went for your hips. The two of you stayed like this for a moment, admiring each other under the moonlight. You were conscious of nothing except the feeling of each other’s bodies against one another. Finally you moved your head closer, brushing your lips against his. You could feel his breath on your lips, the rum that the two of you drank still fresh on them. He closed his eyes, already leaning forward towards you. 

His hands tightened on your hips when you pressed your lips against his, slow and gentle like you always were. The two of you quickly found a comfortable pace, your lips moving against each other in a perfect flow, your tongues brushing against one another every once in a while. Instinctively, you started to move your hips against his, searching for that delicious feeling you were craving. Arthur wasn’t holding back either, moving his hips in tandem with yours, brushing his clothed erection over your center. His hands left your hips, moving to your blouse and unbuttoning it, revealing your naked chest.

You helped him completely remove your blouse, throwing it into direction unknown. As soon as it was away, his mouth was on your skin, starting at your neck and moving down to your chest.

“Arthur,” you moaned when his tongue circled your nipple. You tangled your fingers in his hair, gently massaging his scalp and pushing your chest closer to his mouth. You could feel his beard scraping at your chest, adding a slight burn that only heightened your pleasures. One of his hands started palming your other breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers and making you throw your head back, moaning into the night. 

He started going up your neck once again, leaving light nips and kisses from your chest, up your collarbone and neck, reaching to your ear. He kissed behind your ear while one of his hands was palming your breast, sending jolts of pleasure all through your being.

“Darlin’,” he said, kissing over your jaw and cheek, “I ain’t never lettin’ you go again.”

When it came to words, Arthur’s were always simple. He didn’t use any extraordinary vocabulary or elaborate euphemism. He always said what he meant, and his words always came from his heart. Hearing him utter this promise now, which held a vision of the future so beautiful you could hardly imagine it, made you teeter on the verge of crying tears of joy. You crashed your lips against his, not knowing any other way to express the sheer mix of love, lust and longing you were feeling. 

Neither of you could wait much longer and you untangled yourself from each other, standing up and starting to remove each other's clothes. He helped you unbuckle your belt and throw it aside while you unbuttoned his shirt. His lips were back on yours as he helped you pull his shirt away and went to work on the buttons of your pants. Before long, the little camp you set up was littered with your combined clothes, leaving you in just your drawers and Arthur in his union suit.

It was a beautiful night, with a sky so clear that the amount of stars around was inestimable. You, however, didn’t pay any attention to them, keeping your eyes on Arthur as you slowly pulled down your drawers, letting them fall to the ground. His breathing became haggard as he took in your naked form, flushed in pink from the campfire next to you. He's seen you naked before countless times, yet the sight of our body never stopped to take his breath away. His breathing was caught in his throat as he watched your every movement, following your hands as they reached out to the buttons of his union suit.

You could see the reflection of the fire in his eyes as you stood in front of him, popping button after button of his union suit, revealing his tan skin. Once the last button was open, he helped you take his union suit off, leaving the two of you naked to each other.

He took your hand in his and helped you down to the bedroll, covering your body with his. With the campfire next to you, and Arthur’s body covering yours, you felt warm and safe, protected from any and every thing the world could throw at you. One of his hands reached out, cradling your face. 

You placed your hand on his chest, running it up to his head and tangling it in his hair, bringing him down and pressing your lips against his. The kiss was as fiery and as hot as the fire you were laying next to, and in that moment, you realized that you never fell as alive as when you were with Arthur. “Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for things it has forbidden to itself,” you remembered a quote from the book you were reading a few weeks ago, and realized you were tired of resisting. You didn’t know what tomorrow had in store for you, but right now, you had Arthur and that’s all that mattered.

Breaking the kiss, he looked you in the eyes and said, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You didn’t even have to think to answer. Your answer came so quick it almost sounded as if the two of you talked at the same time.

The lopsided smile that appeared on Arthur’s lips at your words was so genuine and innocent, it made you smile in return. You made sure to burn the image of it in your memory, just like all the others you got throughs the years when the two of you said, “I love you”. 

He settled comfortably between your spread legs and took a hold of his member before slowly pushing in.

“Arthur,” you moaned his name, clawing at his back when he bottomed out. You were practically dripping with how wet you were, yet his girth still gave you that delicious feeling of being stretched.

He kept still for a few moments, letting you get used to him all while whispering praises in your ear and kissing down your neck. When you felt you were ready, you moved your hips.

As if in a dream, silhouetted by the trees, the two of you made love under the starry night sky. The erotic novels would be envious of the passion the two of your shared; your bodies, sweaty, moving against each other in a perfect rhythm, your hands and legs, entangled in each other, your moans and sighs, unbounded, sounding in an empty forest. You were so lost in each other, you didn’t care if anyone heard you, the existence of other people didn’t register to you. The world was only as big as your camp, and the only people in it were the two of you.

You could feel yourself near the peak, could feel your legs twitch each time Arthur hit that delicious spot in you. He could feel it too, with how your walls were squeezing him tighter, and how your eyes were rolling to the back of your head each time he pushed in you. He wasn’t far behind either. One of his hands reached between the two of you, finding your clit and teasing it. It was as if an electric current shot through you; all your energy centered on where Arthur was touching you. You dug your nails into Arthur’s back, holding on to him as you breathed his name into his ear.

“Come on, darlin’,” he whispered in your ear, “let me feel you.”

As if hearing his voice was the last piece you needed to fall apart, you did. You saw white for a few moments as the immense pleasure took over your body, igniting every last nerve in you to life. You kept your body moving against his, your primal urges making you chase every last bit of pleasure you could get. 

The sight of you so lost in lust, your face contoured from the pleasure you were feeling pulled Arthur overboard, and he came a few moments later, spilling in you and  warming your walls with his seed. 

The two of you stayed like this for a few more minutes, entangled in each other, whispering “I love you”s as you showered each other with kisses, from neck, to cheeks, to forehead and lips. 

In the end, the two of you moved to the tent, draping a blanket over your bodies and holding onto each other. As the night went on, the tent filled with your combined dreams and hopes for the future. For the first time since the two of you got together, Arthur seriously discussed the possibility of leaving the gang so the three of you (You, Arthur and your daughter) could run away somewhere. You listened to him with your mouth open, not daring to make a single noise in fear of missing even a word he said. Could it be possible, you thought. Could you finally have the perfect ever after you’ve always dreamt of with Arthur? By the tone of his voice and how deeply in details he went as he planned the possible escape, you realized that your new life was right around the corner.

Despite the exhilarating conversation you were having, the two of you remembered you still had to wake up early tomorrow to make it to the ranch in time (the final loose end you had to tie before you were free). Reluctantly, you brought the conversation to a close - hopefully to be picked up again later - and fell asleep in each other’s arms.