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erodasfishtacos · 4 years ago

Text

#HendallReunited

prompt: request was to write broad but to write something angsty

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: language, sexual content, angst

Harry always had issues with saying ‘no’ to people. He never quite grew out of his manners even when he should have.

He said ‘yes’ to way too many things- signing autographs for rude fans and paparazzi, and agreed to way too many things Jeff suggested.

Saying yes to everything didn’t make his life any easier is the thing. Especially when it came to his wife. She was usually left with the aftermath of him being too nice.

The media painted Y/N in a negative light occasionally and so did the fans because she would stand up for Harry and not let him say ‘yes’ to every single request.

She would tell disrespectful fans he’s not signing autographs because of the way they were screaming and interrupting his work.

Harry wished he could do it himself - admired that his wife didn’t give a fuck what people thought about her. He cared entirely too much what the world would think.

The couple didn’t fight about much - no, not really. Normal couple stuff for the most part. But this was the exception, this is where Y/N found most of their turmoil.

Every few months it would rear it’s ugly head and they’d find themselves in the same position over and over again.

This time - it was really fucking bad.

The couple had been staying in their Los Angeles home for the last few months whilst the singer finalized his album and began promotion.

It was boring meeting among boring lunch outings to get all their ducks in a row. Jeff - his manager the main orchestrator.

He was a great manager and a good friend, but it was also business too which Harry didn’t always comprehend.

At the end of the day, Harry was making Jeff millions upon millions of dollars. But Harry didn’t think that way.

Harry was in a stuffy conference room at the The Late Late Show to work on the script and ideas for the show. Promo had been nonstop.

He was a bit tired as it was nearly just hitting eight in the morning and he had been up late with you - having some late night loving in the hot tub.

“As for guest - Kendall Jenner,” James Corden’s producer states. All the men agree but Harry is taken aback.

“Why...why would we have my ex-girlfriend as one of my guests?” Harry interrupts, confusion knitting his brows.

Kendall and him didn’t end on a bad note - not at all. They hooked up a few times after their ‘break-up’ but once he’d met Y/N she was understanding when he cut it off.

Y/N wasn’t necessarily jealous of the model, but didn’t love when they’d run into each other at events. She was still overtly flirty with Harry without much shame.

Harry also didn’t have an desire to see her or host her as a guest on the show. She was nice but he wasn’t interested in being friends with her. They didn’t have much in common and he was head over heels for his wife.

“The media will eat it up, dude. Harry Styles and Kendall Jenner reunited on a show after four years?” Jeff smiles, the others nodding in amicable agreement.

This is one of this times where Harry needs to say “no,” that it’s disrespectful to his significant other to use an old flame for promo for his album.

He already knows ‘hendall’ will be trending within minutes and he can’t imagine how that would make his parter feel.

“I just...this doesn’t seem like a good idea?” Harry begins hesitantly, making it sound more like a question than a statement.

“Why not?” Eric, one of the writers asks.

“Y’know, I’m married. I don’t think m’missus would appreciate if I did somethin’ like that just for promotion,” he states, scratching at his jaw uncomfortably.

“Look Styles, we’re not asking you to fuck the girl. It just a interview, c’mon,” The executive producer gruffs - wanting those guaranteed views.

Harry swallows - looking at his manager and then at everyone else at the table looking at him for an affirmative answer.

“Uh-sure,” Harry fumbles, feeling anxiety rise into his throat. Fuck, he’s such a god damn pushover.

He’s trying to find his voice to go back on his agreement but the meeting wrapping up and people are leaving with final handshakes.

Harry doesn’t know how to tell Y/N what is going on. He’d been keeping in stored in the back of his mind, not ready to have a blowout.

He never found the perfect time to bring it up and now it was too late. It was the morning of the show and he was due to be at the rehearsals this afternoon.

Harry had finally decided he was going to tell her this morning over coffee but forgot that she had a girl’s day planned with a few friends.

She was already out to breakfast with them when he woke up. His phone had one text from you.

Hi baby. I’m out with the girls. See you at the show tonight. I’ll meet you there around six! Love you!

He was fucked royally and he had no one to blame but himself. Maybe it’d be okay, maybe she’d roll her eyes and tell him he’s an idiot.

Realistically he knew that was just a sweet dream at this point.

—

Harry was fidgety and kept mucking up his lines during rehearsal as it got closer to the showtime and his missus arriving.

Kendall had arrived for hair and makeup without seeing her ex-boyfriend yet. He dreaded seeing the model.

Kendall and Y/N had met a few times at different events. It was always cordial. Kendall was always casual - their relationship was never more than a couple fun dates and sex.

They were kind to each other when they met but he couldn’t deny how much harder his partner kissed him on the mouth afterwards.

Before he know it, his wife is hugging him from behind as he talks to a producer about which cameras to look at.

Y/N noticed the way he tensed up at first and thought about how unusual that was for him. Normally, he’d lean back into her with his full weight causing them both to stumble and laugh.

He slowly, cautiously turns around and his face relaxes a little bit but not completely. “Hi baby,” he hums, leaning in for a kiss.

“You look so handsome,” she replies, admiring his brown pinstriped suit and her pearl necklace that he’d snagged awhile back. She thought it looked better on him anyways.

“You look even better, s’fuckin’ pretty, love,” he gushes, coming back in for another kiss - a little too sensual for the setting.

She was donned in a cropped white shirt, showing of the smooth expanse of her tummy. An oversized blazer of Harry’s, ripped jeans, and heels.

Harry thought fleetingly he couldn’t wait to fuck her after the show. Then remembered that mostly wouldn’t happen.

Reggie, the musical lead, slides up to you two. He smiles wide at you, saying, “Can’t believe you agreed to the guest this evening.”

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion, Harry’s raise nearly to his forehead, but when she opens her mouth to ask him to explain they’re interrupted.

“Harry!” The leggy model trots over to the little group. Dressed in an interesting one-piece suit that has sewn in heels. She looked beautiful as ever, of course she was a model.

Both of them turn towards the oblivious girl, “Kendall,” Harry replies with a twinge of anxiety - eyes repeatedly looking at his significant other’s profile as multiple emotions flash.

“Hiya, you’re Y/N right?” Kendall smiles kindly, offering her manicured hand.

She accepts, “Yeah, uh-good to see you again.”

Harry knew she had connected the dots quickly in her head. The hurt, confusion, had hit her eyes before narrowing into full-blown rage at her partner.

“I promise I’ll go easy on him,” Kendall jokes before pinching at Harry’s cheek teasingly. The model was a natural flirt with everyone she got along with.

“Oh, sure,” she replies lamely, attempting to not let her feelings burst out in that moment with her husband . She knew it wasn’t Kendall’s fault.

“I’m going to go grab a bite to eat. I’m probably gonna puke when we do ‘spill or fill’. See you guys soon,” the model waves before trailing off with her assistant.

“Did you kn- of course you knew she was your guest,” Y/N seethes, turning to fully face the guilt-stricken-singer.

He rubs the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact, “I did.”

“How long have you known for?” She demands to know, keeping her voice at an angry whisper to not draw attention.

Harry wasn’t going to lie to his love, “About two weeks.”

Y/N replies with a laugh, “let me guess, you let Jeffrey talk you into this bullshit, again.”

His silence is all she needs to know it’s true.

“For Christ’s sake, of course,” She huffs bitterly, “what’s even worse is you didn’t fucking tell me. What the fuck?”

Harry bites his lip, not able to rasp out anything but a pathetic, “m’sorry, love.”

He wasn’t usually good at taking responsibility during a fight. He was stubborn at best but he couldn’t deny his way out of this.

“You will be, you-“

They were cut off by the staff, the audience was trailing in and Harry needed to get mic’d up now.

“This conversation isn’t over,” she points her finger at his chest before storming off to the side of the stage where she’d watch from.

Fucking shit.

Harry was a performer. It’s easy for him to push things to the back of his mind so he can entertain a enamored audience.

But tonight, he was struggling. Eyes flicking over to the teleprompter more than usual, his demeanor not as vivid and carefree.

Not when his wife was glaring daggers at him from stage right. Her hand constantly at her mouth, biting at her nails - a nervous tick of hers.

“Next up, the one, the only, the beautiful model and one of my good friends, Kendall Jenner!” Harry introduces when she walks out and waves at the crowd.

They hug and when they pull apart they step over to where they were playing the game. Either answer the question or eat a nasty food picked out by the other.

They weren’t allowed to see each other’s questions before the game started- both going on blind which put Harry more on edge.

“Okay, Kendall. Rank the members of One Direction on most to least attractive or you will be eating...” Harry spins the table, “Cow tongue.”

She flinched at the disgusting plate, smirking up at Harry before considering her course of action, “I think I can answer this one.”

He wasn’t looking forward to her answer. Neither was Y/N by the way she nearly shaking her foot off her leg.

“Okay, I got this. You - the most attractive, then uh- Zayn....Louis...Niall...Liam,” she laughs, “but all of you are hot!”

Harry fake laughs and acts like he’s impressed by her answer as the crowd roars and cheers.

When Kendall picks up her notecard - she laughs in surprise at the question before looking at him with bright eyes.

“Okay, um, bull penis!” She giggles before starting the question, “I’m dying to know this answer. So...your first album HS1 was released four years ago, correct?”

He nods, apprehensive.

“Which songs were about me? Especially was only angel?” She laughs at Harry’s pale expression before without another thought he shovels the rancid food into his mouth.

Harry looks off to the side to see that his missus is no longer sitting there. Just Jeff - who gives him a thumbs up.

The first thing he did when the show ended and the lights dimmed was bolt off to Jeff - ignoring Kendall who was about to say something to him.

“Where’d Y/N go?”

He thought she might have went out to get a breathe of fresh air but for the next hour and a half he hasn’t seen her once.

“She said she wasn’t feeling very good. She told me to tell you she’d meet you at home,” Jeff shrugs unbothered.

“Damnit!” Harry curses loudly, ripping out of the microphone and the little pack in his back waistband.

“Harry,” Jeff scolds at his unprofessionalism that was abnormal for him.

“No! Don’t fucking ever ask me to do shit like this again. You fucking knew what questions were on those notecards and you said it wasn’t anything about our previous relationship.”

“Harry-“

“Don’t fucking talk to me. You’re a real shit manager sometimes, you know that? Do not contact me tonight or tomorrow for that matter, you douchebag,” Harry barks before storming off towards the dressing rooms.

All the employees were standing around in shock, staring at the popstar as he ignored everyone around him.

Harry was famously known for being a kind, amicable guy. So it took everyone by surprise to hear him speak like that. Even Jeff was shaken up a little.

—

The house was pitch-black as Harry pulled up. The house’s first floor was lined with large, bay windows and not a single light was on.

He could find one room illuminated which was your bedroom. A dim side lamp must have been flicked on. He imagined her purposely turning off all the lights on the trek up the staircase.

Harry didn’t want to admit how much he was trembling with awful nerves and anticipation as he slowly turns the knob of the shared bedroom.

Y/N wasn’t laying in bed as he expected but found the bathroom door shut tightly. He noticed a little yellow bag with tissue paper off to the side by a dresser.

He knocks on the oak door, not daring to enter without permission.

“What do you want?” Y/N answers, tone flat and emotionless.

“Can I come in, baby? Please...” He wasn’t ashamed to beg for forgiveness at this point. Hearing the emptiness in her tone scared him shitless.

“I really could care less,” She replies coldly from her spot in the scalding water decorated with bubbles.

Harry had never felt more unsure in his life as he enters the bathroom. Y/N had gotten proper pissed at him or vice versa before - right before a concert, an award ceremony but she’d never left without him.

Her head was laying against the foam headrest and her body was covered by the soap water. She looked tired and her eyes were puffy from crying.

Harry kneels next to the tub, “look at me, please pet.”

Y/N takes a moment before turning her head and opening her eyes. They were distant, disappointed in the man in front of her.

“I should have told you about Kendall. I should have put up more of a fight to get someone else on instead,” Harry admits, his hands desperately wanting to reach out for her.

She shakes her head with a heart-wrenching sniffle, “it’s not just tonight, Harry. We’ve had this conversation continuously for three and a half fucking years. You try to please everyone, despite them giving no fucks about you.”

“Are you that much of a pushover? You let your ex-girlfriend flirt with you in front of millions. Do you know how embarrassing and unfair that it to me?” She wipes at her eyes to stop the tears spilling over.

Harry hadn’t thought of it like that - to be honest. But he agrees, it wasn’t fair and downright cruel to do that to her.

What? All because he couldn’t say ‘no’ because he didn’t want people to be mad at him? It was pathetic and ridiculous.

“I-I won’t let it happen again, lovie. I mean it, I truly do,” Harry whimpers reaching over to cup her cheek and wants to cry when she pushes him away.

“You’re a broken record. You’ve said that a million times before but don’t change,” Y/N points out, eyes boring furiously into his wife’s.

“I’m goi-“

She cuts him off with a sharp edge in her tone, “Just leave me alone, get out.”

The man’s face crumbles and for a second, she wants to just end the fight and makeup but then nothing would change.

“Baby-“

“Get out!” She finally bellows, tears streaming down her face steadily.

He obliges, head hung in defeat as he closes the door behind him. He stands there’s blankly for a second before going to the walk-in closet.

He’s pulling out a fresh pair of cotton underwear and a large sleepshirt for his partner, laying them neatly on the bed.

Harry doesn’t know what to do with himself while he waits so he pulls out his phone to mindlessly scroll.

He throws it against the wall when he sees #hendallreunited is trending number one on Twitter at the moment.

The singer strips down to his briefs and sits with his back against the tufted headboard, staring blankly at the wall.

His eyes catch a neon pink pair of his swimshorts tossed carelessly on the decorative vase in the corner of the room from the night before .

“Fuck, baby - no need to rush,” Harry groans into Y/N ‘s mouth as she pushes him until he’s sat on the edge of their California king.

She reaches impatiently for the tie on his neon pink swimshorts and yanks them off his slim, peach-fuzz thighs before throwing them onto the vase without a care that it was worth over twenty-thousand pounds.

After edging her in the hot tub with his fingers and mouth, she wasn’t waiting any longer before clambering onto his lap, pulling her swim bottoms to the side, and sinking onto him.

He felt guilty when his cock twitched at the thought of it. But when reality set back in, the arousal with the memory evaporated.

It isn’t much longer until the door is pulled open and Y/N’s padding into the room with a towel secured around her.

She looks at the clothes Harry set out for her and pointedly walks past them to pick out her own nightwear.

That really shouldn’t make his eyes tear up as he watches her slide on a similar pair of panties and an oversized shirt. Spotting a purpling bruise on her upper in thigh from his mouth.

Y/N silently walks past the bed and to the bedroom door, looking back before bleakly stating, “I’m going to sleep in the guest room.”

He frowns, wrinkles appearing on his forehead, “You can sleep in here, love. I’ll take the guest room.”

Harry doesn’t get a reply as she just shakes her head and closes the door loudly behind her.

It’s just - he’s never seen her this upset. She was usually fantastic at communicating her feelings and hashing things out.

She wasn’t one for the silent treatment or ignoring the topic. It had his chest rising faster than usual with anxiety. The serious of it overwhelming him.

He states at the wall for a very long time without wiping the fat tears brimming over his trembling lips.

He couldn’t sleep - it was half past three and he hadn’t even laid down or clicked off the lamp.

Harry accepted sleep wasn’t coming so he begins to tidy the already clean room. He picks up the shorts and tossing them in the hamper.

He refolds some joggers he’d carelessly shoved in a drawer and when he went to move the little yellow bag - curiosity got the best of him.

There was no card and he wasn’t sure who it was for or if it had been a gift already give to Y/N that she had returned home with.

Harry really shouldn’t - but he does. Gently tugging out the paper and reaching in to feel fabric.

Pulling it out, it takes him a minute to identify what it is - two baby onesie. Who was having a baby?

He lays them in front of him, eyes widening in surprise as he reads what is printed across the black cotton.

The first one was the colors and font of his upcoming tour merch with the photo he used on his tour announcement with the heeled boot and white pants.

Love on Tour - Due Date: September 2025

With Special Guest Appearance from Baby Styles

The second one was simple and read across the chest:

I’m having your baby (and it is your business) with embroidered kiwis all of over it.

He frantically reached back into the bag to pull out a bundle of pregnancy tests tied with a silk bow.

They weren’t necessarily trying for a baby but they’re weren’t not trying either. Harry wanted a baby as soon as his missus was willing to give him one.

“No, no, don’t one,” she’d whined into his mouth when he’d reached over to grab a condom off the nightstand.

“Oh sweet thing, you want me bare? Fill you up?” He croons happily, coming back to grip at his thick base and tease at her entrance.

“Ye-yeah, H. Please,” (Y/N) whimpers, bucking her hips in the hope he’d slip inside her.

Harry hums, “Might give you a baby though, y’want me to knock you up?”

“Want it, wan-“

He cuts her off with a hard, blissful kiss as he thrusts all the way inside before pulling out to do it again.

“Gonna give it to you, whatever you want, lovie,” he promises.

The two had never used protection afterwards. It had start about seven months ago and from his knowledge she’d still been getting her periods regularly.

Occasionally, he would palm at her flat tummy and pout, “Haven’t put a baby in you yet, ‘ave I?”

He was so ecstatic but disappointed in himself for ruining everything and pleasing everyone other than who he should be.

Harry needed to fix this. He didn’t want Y/N to lose the excitement of having their baby over a dumb choice of his.

The man’s out of the room and not knocking before entering their guest room. His now pregnant love is laying on-top of the covers.

One hand subconsciously on her belly - which she removes and places next to her when her wife walks in.

The television was on but the volume was low and Y/N wasn’t watching it in the first place anyways.

Harry sits on the edge of the bed, “I opened the yellow bag.”

She looks at him with wide eyes, a little taken aback. she was going to surprise him tonight and forgot to store it away for another time after the fight.

Harry has happy tears dribbling down his cheeks, “you’re having my baby?”

Y/N nods, running a slight hand through his curls. She still had a nasty knot of anger and uncertainty in the pit of her stomach.

It pains her, wanting to share this moment of excitement with Harry but she just couldn’t. The uncertainty of whether Harry would put everybody’s needs before his own baby.

“Come back to bed, want t’talk and celebrate. M’so bloody excited,” Harry murmurs, a large smile decorating his face as he smooths a palm over the expanse of her tummy.

His wife shakes her head and places a hand over his, feeling the cold metal of all of them. “I want to be left alone.”

The twinkle in Harry’s eye diminishes to devastation as he realizes that he’s fucked up so badly that she doesn’t even want to celebrate.

“Pet, can...we just forget about it tonight and be happy ‘bout the baby?” Harry asks selfishly, knowing it was unlikely she’d agree.

She didn’t, a firm expression on her face, “no, I have a lot to think about.”

“Like wha’?” He asks anxiously, unknowing of quite the reason she was so furious.

“Like how you say yes to everything and everyone. We talk and talk about how you need to say ‘no’ and do what’s best for you - for us. You agree to and never follow through”

She takes a shaky breath and continues, “it’s affected our relationship before when you’ve had to cancel our vacation away from all this for a charity concert you’d agree to perform at last minute, dinner reservations because you told your friend we’d be at their art showing they wanted you at.”

Harry knew she was right. He did those things. He wanted everyone to be happy with him - to a fault.

“Tonight was just icing on the cake, you allowed your manager to talk you into hosting your ex on that show. Out of all the people in the world - her. With flirty questions and jabs from her. You let that happen. You care about making everyone happy but in return you don’t care how it affects me. That’s pretty shitty.”

“I’m...I’m really fucking scared you’ll do that even when we have the baby. I need you to put them first and right now...I’m not sure if you’re going to. You can’t put the person you want to spend the rest of your life with first now, how do I know you’ll do it with the baby?”

Harry chokes out a sob as he presses his forehead against the bed, his broad shoulders shaking. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried this hard - years ago maybe. He felt like his wife didn’t have any faith in him and he was to blame.

He looks up at her with swollen eyes - at a loss for what to do or say. He loved her so much and was over the moon that they were going to have a baby.

“How do I fix this, darling? You’re right, I really fucked up. M’sorry,” Harry cries, grabbing at her hands and she allows it.

“Just saying you’re sorry won’t fix it,” Y/N replies flatly, letting Harry squeeze and kiss at the backs of her hands.

“Then what do I bloody do to fix this?” Harry raises his voice in frustration, staring in bewilderment at his wife.

Y/N narrows her eyes at him, “Do not raise your voice at me, Harry. Actions speak louder than words.”

Harry swallows harshly, pressing one finally kiss to her hand. “Okay.”

“Okay?” She repeats.

“I love you, I’ll fix this,” he promises with conviction. He knew what he needed to do and do it tomorrow. So he and his wife could enjoy her new pregnancy.

“I need space tonight, I just...please”Y/N says quietly, rubbing at his shoulder.

It wasn’t the first time they’ve slept in separate rooms because they weren’t getting along but they normally found their way back to each other before sunrise.

Harry nods, lip still tremble with the residual anxiety of the conversation. She allows him to press a soft kiss to her mouth before leaving the room.

—-

Cafe Habana was busy - but no one was paying much attention to Harry and Jeff. It was the morning after and Harry had demanded a meeting over breakfast with his manager.

“Y/N pregnant,” Harry states bluntly after their drinks arrive.

“Oh? Congratulations, dude. That’s exciting!” Jeff leans over to pat him on the shoulder, a big smile.

“The baby is due in September. My next tour starts in next July. The baby will be about nine months. I want to be at home with them for the first year.”

Jeff doesn’t look pleased, “what are you getting at Harry?”

“Reschedule the July and August tour dates. Tack them on to the end of the tour,” Harry lays out flat.

He hadn’t talk to his wife about this but he knew this was how he could prove that he could say ‘no’ and not be a pushover.

“No Harry. Look I get you’re excited about the baby - but that will be such a fucking hassle,” Jeff frowns, sipping his mimosa.

“I’m not asking, Jeff. I’m telling you that’s what needs to happen,” Harry replies firmly, tone strong and unwavering.

Jeff is definitely taken aback by his client’s conviction.

“While we’re on the topic, do not ever put me in a situation like you did yesterday. It affected my wife and I. And I will choose her over this career any day.”

The manager nods in surprise, “Harry, I’m sorry.”

“I’m not asking for an apology but if you ever pull something like then I’ll be looking for a new management team. Are we clear?”

Jeff once again nods, unsure of where this is coming from but at the thought of losing his biggest client would be disastrous so he’d do whatever to accommodate him.

“Consider it done,” he tells Harry before clearing his throat in a slight panic.

—

Y/N woke up to an empty house. She was restless, she asked Harry to prove to her that he could be what she needed. However, it was a bit unfair because she didn’t know how he could do it.

It’s just…she had a baby to think about. They both needed to be put first and if it took a gnarly fight for Harry to realize it...so be it.

“Baby? Love, where are you?” She hears Harry echo through the whole house. She was sat in the kitchen, on a stool by the island, idly sorting through mail.

“In here!”

Harry jogs in, panting like he sprinted from the garage up to the kitchen. He comes to stand in front of the love of his life.

“I might have not completely fixed everything but...I tried,” Harry tells her, cradling her face in his large palms. “ I just got back from lunch with Jeff. I told him about the baby.”

He takes a deep breath before continuing, “I rescheduled tour dates so I can be with you guys at home in London for the first year. Then...maybe you guys can join me after?”

“Harry…” she’s at a loss for words.

“And I told Jeff that if he ever puts me in a situation like that again, I’m firing him.”

Y/N stares at him, in awe and admiration of the man she chose to marry and keep forever. His face was so sincere and vulnerable.

Harry didn’t know whether it would be enough. If it wasn’t he’d keep trying but all he could do was hope. He waited with bated breath as she processed his words.

“Baby, you-for me?” She murmurs as she stands up and crowds into his space. He instantly wraps her up into a tight hug, missing her touch.

“Of course, pet. I’d do anything for you, I mean it. I’d quit this whole career if you wanted tha’,” he tells her truthfully - lips brushing her forehead.

“I love you, so so much,” Y/N murmurs, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“We’re havin’ a baby,'' Harry sighs dreamily into her mouth, tongue sliding against hers. A large hand came to palm at her belly.

“Yeah, m‘having your baby,” She giggles as he begins to trail the kisses down her jaw and neck - pressing her into the marble countertop.

“Should we name it Kiwi?” Harry rasps as he slides the tank top strap off her shoulder so his lips can meet the cap of her warm shoulder.

“We are not going to be that celebrity couple who names their baby something weird,” Y/N groans as he grounds his hips into hers with intent.

THE END

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sweetcathedral · 4 years ago

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🕸Haikyuu! — The Butterfly’s Ripple Effect🕸

Note: Currently a developing short story as I’m trying to figure out how to format it on tumblr, so that it’s easy to read (might take me a few months for the rough draft). The plot and ending is solidified, just need to piece together the scenes. Of course all Haikyuu characters are post-timeskip, it’s easier for me to write them as adults. It doesn’t make sense, but it will when I have the whole story down!

⚠️: blowjob, raw, forceful (?), cheating, giving in to temptation

The warmth of the sun gently wakes you up, making you flutter your lashes and wince at the brightness of the room. Memories of last night play back in your head as you pull the covers over you, but you look around to see that there was no sign of Kuroo. You hesitate to go back to sleep or look around the house to see if the others were okay from last night, since it wasn’t as loud as it should be.

“G’morning,” Kenma was leaning at the doorway with a cup of tea in his hand and a plate of omelettes in the other. “May I?”

You nodded, rubbing your eyes to fully wake you up.

“It smells nice. How are the others?”

“Oh, Kuroo’s driving them back to Sendai. The others wanted you to tag along on their road trip, but I told them that you’re probably jetlagged and needed the rest. They helped unload your stuff at the entranceway though,” he settled the tea and omelettes on the nightstand before pulling out a bed tray table from one of the drawers.

“I didn’t know you were the type to have breakfast in bed.”

“I’m not. A friend left it here last year, forgot about it and told me to keep it in the end. I just thought you’d like breakfast in bed today,” as Kenma was about to unfold the table, he paused in hesitation. It looked like he wanted to say something, but instead he lowered his head onto your lap. Thinking nothing of it, you run your fingers through his soft hair,

“Tired?”

“. . . I guess . . . I don’t know . . .”

You started humming the tune Kenma used to sing to you back then, when the two of you were still normal. The familiar feeling began to cloud your judgement, letting your fingers trace down the nape of Kenma’s neck. He immediately grabs your wrist, startling you from your trance.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he lifts his head.

“I—, sorry, I didn't mean—”

“Your food’s getting cold,” he changes the subject and continues to set up the bed table, arranging the tea and omelette. Before he was able to leave the bed, you reach for his hand,

“Kenma, wait . . .” the words you’ve always wanted to tell him is caught in your throat, “. . . I’m sor—!”

His hands clamp over your mouth as he gently kisses your forehead, softly dragging his cold fingers down to your throat. Unable to shake off the way it made you feel, he left you in silence.

After closing the door, Kenma briskly walked towards the bathroom, turned the faucet on and locked himself in. He leans against the door, slowly sliding down to the floor and pulled his hoodie completely over his head,

“. . . what am I doing? . . .” he sighs, pressing his head into his folded hands.

A moment later, the sound of your footsteps makes him jolt back up to turn the faucet off. He opens the door to see you standing there, knees clasped together.

“Don’t just stand there, move!” you push through him to get to the toilet and quickly kicked your panties off, landing at Kenma’s feet. “Phew, okay, you can leave now.”

Just as you finished cleaning yourself up, he picks up your wet stained panties.

“Hey! Give me those!” you tried grabbing them back from him, while covering yourself.

Fuck it. Kenma decided to cross the line he drew for himself. At this point it didn’t matter to him anymore, nothing mattered to him anymore. Everything that’s been holding him back has reached its limit, and he was more than ready to risk it all.

“What, it’s not like this is my first time seeing you naked.”

“Kuroo can walk in at any moment,” you argued back.

“He left two hours ago. It takes a total of eight hours driving to and from Sendai, plus the amount of stops he probably took to settle them down,” he quietly closes the door. “Which means I’ve about six hours to have you all to myself.”

The weight of Kenma’s words dawned on you. The sound of your heartbeat echoes in your ears, racing at the pace things were moving in. It’s only been a day since you got back, but Kenma had been displaying signs of temptation. You knew he was selfish, but you didn't know he can be this selfish—to the point of sleeping with his best friend’s girlfriend. Maybe you should’ve set the boundaries right then and there when you and Kuroo told him about your relationship. But you’ve been sleeping around with Kenma for so long that you didn’t realize that these things weren’t normal for someone in a relationship. It wasn’t right at all, especially to Kuroo. It’s cheating, but—

“Don’t worry, it’ll just be between you and me. I promise,” Kenma cups your face so that your eyes meet with his and draws you into a kiss. You quickly pull away from him,

“Kenma, we can’t. You know we can’t, I’m dating Kuroo, and . . .this is cheating—”

“Only if we get caught,” his fingers trace up your thighs.

You grip his wrist with trembling hands.

“Kenma . . . please, I—I can only hold back so much,” your voice begins to break.

“Do you trust me?” he pauses, waiting for your reply.

With guilt, you shyly nodded.

“That’s my good girl,” he lifts you up onto the edge of the sink. Kissing you along your neck and collarbones.

“Not there, you’ll leave a mark,” you stop him.

“Right, . . . sorry,” he pouts. With how far you’ve already taken the situation, you decided to let go of all senses of your morals.

“Come here,” you reach for his face, pulling him back into a kiss. Shocked that you took the lead, but relieved, he places his hand on your wet spot. The feeling of his fingers brushing over your clit makes you throb inside.

“Look at how messy you’re getting and I haven’t even put my fingers in you yet,” he crosses his fingers. “I know you like it when I do this.”

The twisting motion inside you sends waves of pleasure throughout your body, making your toes curl. Hot breaths escape your wet lips, feeling yourself come closer to ecstasy. Before you could reach your climax, Kenma pulls his fingers out.

“No, no no,” you whined.

“What’s wrong?” he cocked his head, knowing damn well what he’s doing. “You know begging doesn’t work on me, you need to show that you want it.” He leans in closer to your blushing ear. “Now get on those pretty knees of yours.”

The glazed look in your eyes catches Kenma’s attention. A smirk tugs across his face, gently gripping your throat, embracing you into another wet kiss. His teeth softly grazes your bottom lip as he pulls away. Reluctantly, you get on your knees.

You work your tongue, stroking up and down his cock. “Fuck,” he grunts, giving you a sense of pride. Impatiently, you start to touch yourself to relieve that aching feeling,

“Ah, ah, ah,” Kenma pulls you by the hair to get you off his cock. He grabs both of your wrists and pins them over your head against the edge of the sink, preventing you from touching yourself. “I’m not gonna let you take that satisfaction away from me. Now open your mouth nice and wide, and stick your tongue out.”

Your hips squirm and tremble, doing as he says.

“Hrmph!” the impact of his cock thrusts to the back of your throat, his grip tightening around your wrists. Tears stream down your cheeks and saliva dribbles down your chin, taking in every thrust he gives you. You choke on his load, filling you so much that you can’t do anything but swallow.

“You think I’m done?” he pushes you to the floor and turns you over, pinning one leg to your chest. The glint in his eyes tells you how long he’s been waiting for this moment. A single, long, moment to put you in a sloppy daze. You can feel his thumb brushing over your slick folds before pressing it in. Although you’re already a soaking mess down there, he wants to make sure you're fully prepped before going in raw.

“Don’t forget, I have you all to myself for more than a few hours,” he says in your ear as he slowly penetrates you. The tip hits you in the right spot making your walls flutter. Only the sound of your panting and moaning escape your lips.

You forgot how rough Kenma gets when his stress builds up and he has nowhere to vent it off on, but that privilege was taken away from him when you and Kuroo started your relationship. Admittedly, you miss Kenma from before he knew about your relationship with his best friend. You didn’t know how he truly felt about it and didn’t want to ask. You avoided wanting to ask ‘cause you’re scared about knowing how he really feels. The day you confronted him about it was also when he started to become distant and detached from you.

Slowly, your mind enters a daze, getting lost in the comfort you find from his guilty pleasure.

176 notes · View notes

jungnoir · 5 years ago

Text

destiny | 08;

⇢ summary: you’re just about ready to give up on life altogether; your love life is in ruins, you’ve lost your job, and your family couldn’t care less about you… and then you meet your blushing guardian angel, and maybe life isn’t so bad after all.

⇢ relationship: jeon jungkook/reader, min yoongi/reader.

⇢ genre: supernatural, angel!au, demon!au, romance, thriller.

⇢ words: 7.5k words.

⇢ warnings: mentions of depression, violence, murder.

previously | next

a/n: lots of scenes now that we’ve got the whole cast introduced! I think I cleaned up everything I needed to... I hope I did, at least ;-;

“You’re taking your sweet time.”

Seokjin shivers at the sudden intrusion into his thoughts. How long had it been since he’d last spoken to him? Chancing a glance around the dark alley, he confirms it’s empty, no onlookers in sight. “It’s barely been a week.”

“And in that time, you’ve had several chances to complete your task, no? One very early on, if I recall.” God’s voice is mocking, if not irritated.

Wincing, the angel curls further in on himself against the brick wall. It felt like he was perpetually stuck here, pacing outside Hell’s Kitchen with his tail between his legs as he plotted your demise. It was supposed to be quick, over with the night Jungkook had fallen, but he’d been cowardly, hesitant. God knew. He always knew. Now he paid the price.

“I’d assumed... there was no way I could’ve known that the fucking prince of Hell would be brought into this.”

“That’s why we strike when the iron is hot, child. Now you’ve just made it harder on everyone who will be affected by your mess. That poor human would have died like planned if you’d just done it then and there on the bridge, but you were weak. They would have never thought to align themselves so stupidly with evil if you hadn’t been a coward.”

He couldn’t have. How would that have been handled? Killing an angel in plain sight, perhaps in front of you if he was particularly cruel? The angels that would see, the whispers that would spread, there was no way-

Of course—all of that—he knew.

It was part of the punishment, forcing him to deliberate every step he took next. To carry out this task alone, letting the shame fall on his shoulders alone, to shirk himself of his own most potent morals... all of it was for his amusement. He was turning him into the thing he despised the most. “I will handle it... I am handling it.”

God laughs, “By bringing someone else into it?”

“You’ve given me no choice!” Seokjin’s voice rises before he can catch himself. Anger is seeping out of every pore. A few passing by the mouth of the alley startle, but see nothing.

“You had a choice the day you defiled yourself with that demon scum. You betrayed me. It hurts me to hurt you, but you must know the severity of the pain you’ve caused me... the pain you’ve caused that boy. It’s evil. You must purge yourself of it. I’m giving you a chance because I love you-”

“I did what you asked.”

God’s voice vanishes from Seokjin’s head in an instant, cowering away into the darkness at the sound of the new angel’s voice. Quickly schooling his expression into indifference, the elder angel stands tall in front of the younger, “And?”

Jimin sighs, “You should give up. The demon is too intertwined now.”

“Did they suspect you?”

“No, not that I know of. I told them everything they needed to know.” Jimin looks around the alley with an uneasy look, “They’ve got someone else helping, too. The demons didn’t say much about them, but supposedly it’s a friend of the prince, someone who could take you down. That’s where Jungkook went with him earlier.”

“I saw as much,” Seokjin swears under his breath, “and after he left, the demon trailed them back home. They’re making things messy.”

“Then give up.”

Faking a smile, Seokjin draws closer to the other angel until he’s practically mounting him. The air grows very tense between the two, “Give up? Now, where’s the fun in that, Jimin?”

Jimin keeps a guarded expression even as his hands shake, “You’re not God.”

I’d do a damn better job, Seokjin bitterly muses. What would’ve resulted in an immediate death for any other angel just leaves him with a sudden, annoying headache. “What else did you say to them?” He growls through gritted teeth.

“Are you going to do what I asked?” The smaller angel grabs Seokjin by the collar, a brave move on his own part, “You promised.”

In retaliation, Seokjin grabs Jimin by the shoulders and shoves him so far back that he stumbles to the ground with a thud. Quickly overtaking him, Seokjin straddles Jimin and yanks his head closer with a hand clenched about the back of his neck, “I’ll keep my side of the bargain if you keep yours. Remember, runt, I run shit around here. If anyone should be worried about following through with what they promised, it’s you.” Jimin’s eyes widen and spark with fear, setting something off in Seokjin that makes him jump off of him in an instant. The angel on the ground can only stare up at him in hopes that he could discern what the other would do next. “Find out who and where that friend is. Don’t get caught. God thanks you for your cooperation.”

To further drive home his intention, Seokjin raises a hand and sends the wounded angel flying into a wall, effectively cratering the brick.

“Mook, come on,” the first grumble of a voice is heard throughout your home early that next morning, definitely not your own, “you can’t just- Mook!” The frustrated grumble rises an octave as the clatter of ceramic against ceramic calls you from the dregs of sleep. Eyes closed, you can sense the body moving in front of your window toward the unoccupied side of the bed. A dip in the mattress makes you roll more onto your side, lazily peeling your eyes open.

Jungkook is there, hair neatly combed and lying limply over his flushed features. There’s a tray in his hands (a tray you hadn’t seen since the last time you had entertained at your home, way back when Yongsun would bring a couple of her friends over for brunch to “get you socializing”) holding two mugs of something steaming; just by the smell alone, you can tell it’s tea. There’s also a plate separating them with a modest omelette in the middle too, and you aren’t sure if it’s his, yours, or... both.

Jungkook’s cute bunny teeth are revealed when his lips form a face splitting smile; he looks between the food he’s made and you with an expectant look, “Hungry?”

You stare at him blankly, tiredly for a little longer before rubbing your eyes with the backs of your hands. “Whatever that is,” you wince at the deepness in your voice, plagued with sleep, “smells really good.”

Jungkook beams with pride when your eyes flutter back open to examine him, “Thanks. Thought you might want something simple to start the day. I already ate some cereal that hadn’t expired.”

Ah. Your small fantasy of sharing an omelette with Jungkook in bed was quickly shot down and perhaps for good reason. Jungkook ate like a teenage boy who’d been starved on an abandoned island his whole life, and god forbid he tried to be playful and feed you! You’d burn up like a hot stove.

Heh, “god forbid”.

“Shit, I forgot... I haven’t gone shopping for you or for food.” You look over the clothes that Jungkook had been wearing; he’d alternated between a few makeshift outfits of yours for the last two days, but you could only keep washing the same clothes over and over before it got tiring (and costly). He had virtually nothing of his own. No clothes besides the ones he’d fallen in, no personal belongings, nothing.

Jungkook was new to being a human, so thoughts of personal items probably hadn’t been on his mind. As an angel, things like showering, eating, sleeping, and the like had never been a requirement to stay alive. Now that he was human however, those human needs were becoming hard to ignore. Hunger pains after several hours of not eating would make him unnecessarily irritable, and he definitely disliked the smell that would begin to emit from his skin if he hadn’t washed in a while. Being a human was... incredibly burdensome.

You didn’t need to go over board; technically, the room down the hall could be his bedroom (as soon as you got around to tidying the rest of Youngho’s things you’d bought him that he’d respectfully left) and as a new human, he was going to be incredibly low maintenance. You doubted he’d want tens of pairs of shoes or designer accessories to match. It wasn’t even really just that; Jungkook was fairly simple in everything. He really was godsent.

“Whatever you wanna do,” Jungkook says, setting the tray between you two, “but we should be wary. We don’t know where Seokjin might be waiting to pop up from next. I want to be able to protect you... but I’m not used to the limitations of this body.”

Mook hops up into bed the next moment, her beady eyes observing the scene before settling herself next to you. You hadn’t spent much time with Mook since the Youngho incident, and you could tell from the way she rubbed against you that she was glad to have you back. You reach a hand to gently comb at the fur on her head before taking one mug from the tray. The aroma that hits you is a pleasant vanilla and white tea that instantly soothes your nerves at the mention of Seokjin. Taking a sip, you notice that he’s made it just the way you like it too. You guessed after watching you make it so many times, he’d gotten the hang of it.

You hum and settle back into your cushions, “Jungkook... I’m thankful you want to protect me, but I think you should be worried about yourself too. All these sensations are going to be new to you... this is a new life you’re going to live, if we live. Being human looks simple but compared to what you had going on before, it’s really not.”

Jungkook begins to protest, yet his halt is immediate. Who was he to say that you were being too worrisome? After all, you’d been the human this whole time. You had a better grasp on it than he did. Angels could watch from their perches in a world between human reality and the afterlife, but at least they were safe there. You, on the other hand, and the other billions like you were not so lucky.

And you were right. Being a human... it was terrifying.

Yoongi’s offer had bothered him all night long, and even now as he was getting used to these new urges and needs, he wasn’t subscribed to the idea of it lasting. Demons truly were closer to humans than angels, but demons were also closer to angels too. If he became a demon, he might feel more at home in his body- no, he couldn’t simply give up just because of bodily needs. He... he had to be stronger than that.

Being a demon meant he was stronger, possibly as strong as he was in angel form, and by extension it also meant that he could take care of you. As a demon, he was more apt to fight off any supernatural (or human) pests that dared to hurt you. As a demon, he also could form a connection to you that, while paling in comparison to his angelic one, would still be a hell of a lot stronger than his human one.

But as a human... he could die with you.

As a guardian angel, the worst part of being a guardian is the inevitable moment when your charge would have to move on to the afterlife. There were charges that would pass in their sleep peacefully, but then there were charges who would die in house fires, drown, be shot and killed in a robbery, be hit by a car on a night of sadness and impulse. He was told it’d get better the longer he lived. He didn’t believe it. He couldn’t. That’s why he was here, and that’s why you were now alive and suffering alongside him.

If he hadn’t done a thing, you’d be dead. A life of pain ended, but a life of happiness never found. It hurt him to think you’d never know a true lover’s touch or feel elated with the sun soaking into your skin. You would never know true happiness, and that’s what scared him about humans the most. He did not want that for you.

Maybe he was selfish. He might have tried to play God. Some grand plan aside however, your life meant more to him than that.

“...You’re right. I’ll take it easy, okay? Until I get the hang of it all, that is.” Jungkook gives you a patient smile despite the turmoil in his eyes, and that’s that on that.

You match his smile and take another sip of your tea at the same time an idea pops into your head. The outfit Jungkook had been stranded in was nothing special, which of course begged the question... what did he like to wear?

Jimin, from what you’d seen of him, dressed simple and stylishly, a contrast to Jungkook’s casual athletic clothes. You had assumed all angels had a standard issue outfit to wear, but now you weren’t so sure. “Where did you get your clothes, Jungkook?”

Jungkook glances down at the hoodie of yours that was just big enough to fit him and then back to you, “You mean the clothes I first appeared in? They’re kind of… a choice of ours, as angels. There are times when we may need to show ourselves to humans, and in those cases, we very well can’t walk around in ivory robes and sandals,” the image of Jungkook in such a getup makes a laugh tickle in your throat, “so we pick out human clothes that we feel we’d best blend in with. For guardians, they’re also something we believe our charges would find appealing.” It’s unsaid, but the way Jungkook’s eyes fix on you gives you the feeling that he was curious if you had found them appealing.

“Did you have different types of outfits for different situations?” You draw your knees to your chest as Mook gets bored of your petting and makes her way into Jungkook’s lap.

He nods, “As an angel, my clothes were a glamour. I could change them at the snap of a finger, but once I became human, the clothes I’d been wearing became real and the only clothes I could keep. However, you’ll never find anything like them. No tags, no earthly material, stain-resistant. All the works.”

“Your only clothes, huh? Glad you didn’t have to save me at a swimming pool.” You snort.

“You wouldn’t have wanted to see that outfit? The board shorts were nicely fitting.” Jungkook even bothers to smirk, posing his hips toward you, and the image of a smirking Jungkook in nothing but shorts flashes in your mind’s imagination. Said imagination had always been terribly vivid and you physically jolt as the details appear in your mind. You were not about to think about Jungkook like… that. Right now.

You shake your head quickly, “I-I think I’m good.” The crack in your voice says otherwise.

Jungkook probably would have teased you more had your phone not alerted you then. You blink, retrieving the phone from your nightstand to see who it had come from.

(1) Unread Message(s)

received: 9:31 a.m.

Min Yoongi (Boss): Forwarding your first paycheck to your account now. Don’t ask how.

“Wha...?” You look at the phone in disbelief, feeling Jungkook lean over your shoulder to peek at the screen too. You exit the message as soon as it registers and, sure enough, once you’ve pulled up your bank app, there is... $50,000 more in your account than there was yesterday. You almost drop your scalding hot tea all over your lap.

sent: 9:35 a.m.

you: I think you may have added a few too many zeroes??

received: 9:36 a.m.

Min Yoongi (Boss): Enjoy your day with lover boy, (Name). Emphasis on enjoy.

Min Yoongi (Boss): :)

You had a feeling if you tried to press the issue longer, Yoongi might actually block you.

Like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, the numbers in your bank account comforted you down to the core. Even in the midst of supernatural feuds centuries older than you, one of your biggest worries had been how you were ever going to pay your bills. Going from your job before to a waitress job practically spelled a major downsize for you until you could get back on your feet, and now that you had another mouth to feed, you had seriously feared that every meal would be your last.

Something told you this was only the tip of Yoongi’s generosity. After all, he was a demon prince. He didn’t run a bar to make a living, he ran a bar because he had the time. That’s why prices were so low when the quality was so high: money was no issue.

“I have to be honest, I never expected Satan’s spawn to be so... nice.” Jungkook comments, taking a sip from his own cup of tea, frowning when the liquid had since gone cold.

You look up from your phone dazed; if you still were convinced your life had turned a vivid hallucination, you now how had half a $100,000 in your bank account to say otherwise. “Me neither.” Is all you can muster, letting the phone drop to the covers in order to motivate you out of bed. Jungkook looks up at you, then forlornly at his omelette. “Heat it up again with your tea. I need a... cold shower.”

An hour later, Jungkook is sitting cross-legged in the spare bedroom with his eyes glittering, “I can have it?”

There’s an old PS4 resting in his hands, covered in a fine layer of dust but otherwise functional as far as you can tell. Youngho probably didn’t have the balls to take it with him given that you’d bought it for him, so for now, it laid here untouched. “Of course you can. I don’t play it that much and I doubt he’s coming back for it.”

There was a litany of gifts lying around that you had given your boyfriend over the years, many of which had been bringing back painful memories, but some of them felt like they could be rebranded. Coats, colognes, video games and the like. What he had claimed for his own at his place was either up for sale or Jungkook’s pleasure.

“I’ve always wanted to play one of these. Whenever Youngho would come over, I’d just sit and watch.”

“Does Youngho have a guardian angel?” You ask, “I’m just curious. I mean, that night you kicked him out... wouldn’t his angel have intervened?”

Jungkook shrugs, “Of course. Everyone has a guardian angel.”

“Except me now, I guess.” You laugh bitterly. Jungkook’s head snaps up to you, eyes flashing with hurt. The guilt you feel is immediate. “Oh, wait, I didn’t mean it like that.”

The longer it takes Jungkook to reassure you that it’s fine, that he understood what you really meant, starts to make your breath quicken with anxiety. All he does is look down at his lap, sadly fiddling with the console in his hands with much less excitement than before. God, you’d royally fucked up with that comment, huh?

You’re about to give him a much lengthier apology when Jungkook speaks up again, “To answer your question, his angel was there. We are- I was trained to stop demonic threats toward humans, nothing more, so I could only imagine that angel’s confusion at my interference. Perhaps, they were too afraid to do anything. It’s only a guess though.”

“...Maybe they were aware of how much of an asshole he was and decided to sit that one out.” You offer, trying to lighten the mood. Jungkook says nothing.

He only looks up when you’ve walked over to his spot on the floor, reaching a hand out to softly tangle in his hair. His breath hitches as you move down to cup his jaw, “Jungkook, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It was insensitive to you when you’ve been working so hard to protect me. Who cares about a title or wings? You’re my guardian angel no matter what. God doesn’t get a say in that, not this time.”

Little tears prick at the corners of his eyes. He just keeps looking into yours, switching back and forth between each of them as his lip tremors, “What... good am I to you when I’m like this? You should have someone else. God should’ve sent you someone else. If he doesn’t send someone else and he knows I can no longer protect you, then he’s letting you die and I can’t- I can’t do anything about it. What good am I if I can’t do the one thing I was made to do?”

You drop into a crouch until you’re face to face with him, “Jungkook, you are more than a guardian.”

“Am I?” His voice cracks, “I don’t know who I am. I’ve never had a reason to be anyone.”

“I know... I know what it’s like to feel like you have no purpose anymore, believe me. I know what it’s like to be unsure of who you are. I want to tell you that it gets easier, and that there will be more days where you feel whole than when you don’t, but I can’t. It’s up and down. It’s never the same for everyone,” you wipe at a stray tear that escapes his eye, “being human sucks for that. You don’t have any guidelines and apparently everything is already laid out for you without your consent. But I think I can say this with certainty: you, for one, have made it very clear it’s possible to change that.”

The boy scoffs, “And look where that’s gotten you. Now you’re in danger.”

You smile. Cupping both his cheeks firmly, you bring him so close to you that he thinks he’s doing the human version of short-circuiting, “And I found out that there’s someone who loves me so much that he’d defy God just to let me know.”

“Is that enough? To make you happy?”

Was it? You’d always assumed it would be. A lack of love, easy to explain away. If you could just get that feeling you’d been missing, you’d finally be happy, right? You couldn’t lie to him.

“It won’t magically fix everything, that’s not how these things work, but love does give you something to fight for when you don’t want to fight for anything. I’m still going to hate being awake some days. All I can say is that I would like to at least be awake with you. Does that make any sense?”

He sniffles, then nods.

“Can I hold you?” You inquire.

He nods again, “Yeah, sorry.”

You shuffle some things out of the way so that you’re laying against the carpet and he’s leaning against your shoulder, one arm of yours thrown around him while the other holds his hand in your lap, “What are you sorry for, silly? Being a person?” You giggle, squeezing his hand tightly. “I don’t know, I think you’re doing pretty good all things considered. Some people become serial killers under way less stress.”

Jungkook laughs softly into your neck, giving you delightful little goosebumps. Was he aware of what he was doing to you, or was he just clueless? Part of you wanted to hope it was the latter. The last thing you needed was a hot, self-aware angel. Wait, when did you start thinking of Jungkook as hot- “Then I guess I feel much better. Can we stay like this for a while longer?”

“As long as you like. We’ve got all day to ourselves.”

Taehyung mutters a soft prayer, “Be at peace.”

It’s one of the quickest ways to death when the target isn’t struggling, and the second quickest way when he didn’t have his gun on him. He preferred the closeness of knives anyway. It made it make sense to him, but it also made him feel less like a contract killer and more like he lacked the empathy to be repulsed by killing up close.

The truth was that he did feel empathetic, especially when he really didn’t want to. He imagined how much it might hurt his mother to know of what he was doing, and if he could see her face just once, he’d probably stop for good. He’d tried.

When he’d asked Yoongi that one time, after far too much thinking, if he could see her, the prince had made it clear that to see his mother was to go against God’s wishes and that alone could start a war that didn’t need to happen. It was to be like this. Taehyung was to die alone.

All he could have were the little moments.

The demon falls at his feet with a soft thud, her heart releasing the blade of his knife. Blood drips over the corpse, staining her waitressing shirt red. Slowly, sinking back into the earth, the body disintegrates until there’s virtually no trace left. That was the one upside of dealing with demons: they never left a mess.

Taehyung sends a simple confirmation text to his client that the work has been done and the money is wired moments later. Stashing his now clean knife away into its scabbard at his waist, he makes his way out of the alley and directly into the human traffic of the city, blending in with ease. There’s no rush to be anywhere or see anyone. The world is moving with or without him, just as he likes it best.

It’s only the middle of the day but he’s already considering which bar he wants to linger at at the moment. If he wasn’t working and he wasn’t sleeping, he was drinking. Had he a human liver, he’d probably have been dead a long, long time ago.

Just as he’s about to slink into one, his phone vibrates with a text.

(1) Unread Message(s)

received: 2:08 p.m.

suga: About the kid—are you sure you want to help?

sent: 2:09 p.m.

taehyung: you asked me that already, wouldn’t have said so if I wasn’t

received: 2:09 p.m.

suga: You know that’s not what I meant. You’ve never seen him. Are you ready for that?

sent: 2:11 p.m.

taehyung: I don’t think I ever will be so I might as well get it over with

Not waiting for another response, Taehyung locks his phone and shoves it into his back pocket, ignoring the vibrations that signal Yoongi’s concern. As kind as it was, it really wasn’t what he wanted to hear right now. All he should be focusing on is the best way to kill the bastard before he killed anyone else.

“He’s scaring me,” the demon sighs, holding her head up on her fist, “I can feel how angry he is, Lucifer. He’s going to do something he regrets.”

The king of hell is perched on the edge of a bed of satin and silk, one leg crossed over the other as he watches the young servant delicately braiding Inhui’s hair back from her face. “No offense but if I was the kid, I’d also want to kill my father. You can’t blame him. You should want to just as much.”

“I’ve told you time and time again that he didn’t do it for greed. I know him.” Inhui growls, snapping around to stare Lucifer down. The servant girl pales at the sudden change in mood, hands stilling around the black strands weaved through her fingers. Knowing it would be another one of those days, Lucifer waves a hand at the servant girl to leave and Inhui’s hair comes undone with the speed at which she exits through the iron bars of the prison cell. “And now my braid is ruined.”

“You think that an angel would ever give up their cozy seat in heaven for fucking this? You knew the boy for how long? 17, 18 years? That’s barely a second in time.”

Inhui huffs indignantly, looking away from him to the mirror once again to take her hair into her own hands. Roughly, she begins braiding where the servant had left off, “I saw him most of that child’s life. The way he cared for her, the way he cared for me... I had expected you to understand. We were angels once.”

Lucifer snarls, “Don’t remind me.”

“You should be reminded. It’s like you forget where we came from. You’re angry at them when you should be angry at God. He’s the one brainwashing them.”

“I personally don’t care what he’s doing with them. I care what it has to do with my demons.”

“So you don’t care about the angel your son is so interested in?”

At that, Lucifer frowns. “...that one doesn’t count. He’s fallen.”

Inhui huffs something like a laugh when she’s finished her braid, tying it off. Then, she steps around her chair and moves over to her bed until she’s hovering over Lucifer, being one of the few who was ever capable of being in such a position. “You’re worried about your son too, aren’t you? Then you know he’s caught up in the same situation. Have you talked to him about it?”

“I... trust him to make the best decision.”

“And you think that the one he’s making is the best one?” Not at all, Lucifer thinks, but who am I to stop him? “You have him so close, and you don’t say what you want to. You’re lucky that you can see him.”

“But he doesn’t want to see me. I can’t make him do anything he doesn’t want to do. Whether it’s staying in hell or taking the throne or staying away from people he thinks he can save, he doesn’t listen to me. At least your boy wants to listen to you.” Lucifer doesn’t mean to sound so snippy, doesn’t mean to come off so bitter. Yet, all he feels is bitterness. And sadness. And genuine worry for what is unfolding with their sons right in the thick of it.

It’s silent for a while.

Inhui drops down onto the mattress next to him holding her head in her hands, “What great parents we are.” Nudging Lucifer, she leans back until they’re both looking at each other, “Do you think that fallen will be much trouble?”

Lucifer sighs, “Weren’t we?”

You’ve somewhat setup a neat little space for Jungkook, and while it’s lacking in decorations and style, he looks more than happy with what he’s got. He’s even gotten attached to you calling it “his” room.

With Yoongi’s gracious gift, you’d spent some time paying off bills and handling some of your pesky student loans. By the time you were through, you’d taken a big gulp of fresh, relieved air.

Now came shopping, the fun part.

“Jungkook! Are you ready to go yet?” You shout up the stairs.

“Just a minute!” He yelled back, and you could faintly hear him over the sound of video game sound effects in the background. You made a mental note to be ready for him to drag you into a GameStop at some point.

With how quickly things had been moving for the past few days, you felt that all of the free time and leisure you’d enjoyed today had invigorated you something fierce. You could go for a run, or maybe start some new hobby. The only issue with either of those options was that your reality was not lost on you in the slightest. Your days were forever being haunted by the shadow of Seokjin. In fact, he was starting to haunt your dreams even. He always appeared as a lifeless, indefinite aura, suffocating you in your sleep to the point that you’d wake up thinking you’d died and gone to hell.

And while you were enjoying spending time with Jungkook, you couldn’t help wondering what you could be doing right now to keep him safe. He was so obsessed with protecting you, and yet you were equally as obsessed vice versa. Even though Yoongi had told you to enjoy the day off, it was quickly becoming harder to do so with the places your mind was heading.

You decided to mindlessly scroll through your phone, answering messages you hadn’t gotten around to yet from your old co-workers. You see some messages from Jaebum but decide you’ll get back to him later. Your mother had sent you a few things asking how you were doing while demanding you come to the family reunion that upcoming summer, all of which you completely ignored. It seemed the world was still turning. That was nice at least.

About fifteen minutes later with no sign of your new roommate, you begin to grow irritated. Just as you’re about to yell for him again, you hear a peculiar sound. It’s your doorbell ringing. Your doorbell hadn’t rang since...

A hard lump forms in the back of your throat. You quickly check your phone for any warning messages from Youngho about him stopping by again, perhaps with a lawyer and police in tow. Maybe he was going to sue you for that night and how Jungkook had handled him. You could not deal with that on top of every other thing going on in your life right now.

You quickly preen yourself in a nearby mirror and huddle over to the front door, heart accelerating. You take a peek through the peep hole but can only see a sliver of hair that doesn’t look anything like Youngho’s. A sigh of relief is followed by stark confusion. Who the hell would come to your house uninvited like this? Your mother would, perhaps, but you highly doubted that she would... you needed to check.

Slowly opening the door, you peek around the barrier between you and the outside world.

“Hey,” Yongsun greets you with relief, “you’re alive.”

Alive? Did she- there was no way she knew...? “Huh?”

She chuckles, shaking her head at you, “Jaebum texted me all worried saying you hadn’t been answering his messages. I thought it was weird so he asked me to come to check on you.”

“You didn’t text me yourself?” You ask, frowning.

“I... didn’t think you’d answer.”

Shit. She had a point.

She awkwardly fiddles with her fingers and looks down. Part of you was angry at her, another part angry at yourself, and an even bigger part angry that all of this had done to one of the closest relationships in your life up until this point. All over a stupid job.

“You want to come in?” You offer. She looks up with slight shock but nods anyway, slowly stepping closer as you open the door up enough to let her in.

Her heels clack against the hardwood floor lightly as if to not make her presence anymore imposing than she probably felt it was. She looks around the living room with slight confusion, “Where’s Mook?”

You grumble at the mention of your cat, realizing she was probably upstairs too, “In Jungkook’s room, no doubt.”

“Jungkook? Is that... is that the guy you told Jae was my little brother? I’d been meaning to ask about that.”

Oh, fuck.

With royally good timing, Jungkook makes his presence known as he stomps loudly down the stairs. Yongsun’s eyes widen at the boy, trying to recall when she had ever seen someone like him around you before. You surely would have told her about a guy like that, right?

Jungkook’s expression is impenetrable, his eyes darting over to you as if to gauge what you were thinking. You give him a helpless look back.

But ever your knight in shining armor, Jungkook forces a laugh that seems genuine enough on the outside looking in. Then, he makes his way over to Yongsun and holds out his hand, “Ah, so this is the famed Yongsun I’ve heard so much about? It’s so nice to finally meet you, ‘big sis’.”

Yongsun is bewildered but takes his hand nonetheless, a light blush dusting her cheeks, “B-Big sis?”

Jungkook takes his hand back and shoves it in his pants pocket, “Sorry about the identity theft and all. This one here wasn’t quite ready to spill the beans.”

“I’m sorry, I’m completely lost here. What beans? (Name)?”

Did you look like you had any clue about what was happening here too? Jungkook had all the self-assuredness in the room!

“It’s... a bit complicated. You know how silly (Name) can be sometimes, getting flustered over nothing. They weren’t ready to introduce me to Jaebum as their boyfriend yet and we kinda ended up going along with a little white lie for the time being. (Name) doesn’t know how to break it to him.” Huh. Were angels supposed to be this quick at lying?

Yongsun looks absolutely stunned. Looking back between you and Jungkook, she can’t seem to form a coherent sentence easily, “You’ve moved on from Youngho already? I had no idea... how long has it been? Are you-”

“Yongsun,” Jungkook draws her attention back to him with a charming, apologetic smile, “me and (Name) were actually just about to head out and do some shopping. I’m so sorry.”

“Oh,” the girl looks deflated, “I wanted to... I had some really important things I wanted to talk about with you, (Name). Can we talk, at least for a little bit? Alone?”

Jungkook looks about ready to sweep in with something positively corny with just the right amount of socially repulsive to save you. All you had to do was give him the look. And yet... Yongsun looked so sincere. So worried. You couldn’t lie; you missed her. You wanted to talk too.

An idea forms in your head, “How about... we all go shopping together and then we can talk? I just wanted to get Jungkook some new things to wear, it’s not a date or anything.”

At that, the girl perks up immediately, “T-That sounds great! We can even take my car. I’ll go start it.” She sends you a tentative smile and quickly squishes past Jungkook to get to the front door, making her way down the pavement to her sedan parked on the curb. You groan softly. So much for a relaxing day. You guessed it was better to rip the bandaid clean now than never.

You glare at Jungkook as he sidles up beside you, handing you your bag, “Of all people, Yongsun’s little brother?”

“Of all people, a little brother?” The indignant fallen glares right back.

Shopping turns out to be not as stressful as you’d expected.

Jungkook takes the reins completely the minute you arrive at the mall, going in and out of different stores with a firm understanding in what he wanted. You felt more like a bodyguard, watching him flit about with different bomber jackets and chunky boots. You were finding that you quite liked whatever sense of style he was forming for himself, absentmindedly wondering if he was picking it all based on what he assumed was your preference on purpose.

Yongsun, up until now, had only been making small talk with you about how things were going. Given that you couldn’t disclose a third of what had been happening in your life without sounding insane, you only tell her little bits and pieces about finding new work and spending time with your new “boyfriend”. She spends most of the time asking about him, finding it quite amusing when you get bashful at her questions about when he’d first fallen for you and vice versa. It seemed, however, that even her well of boyfriend questions could run dry at some point.

“I... wanted to apologize to you. About going radio silent. And the job.”

She finally acknowledges the elephant in the room when Jungkook goes to the dressing room to try on some jeans. You share a bench with her outside the changing rooms, a small smoothie in hand (a treat that you’d distributed amongst the group of you about halfway through the trip) that drips cold perspiration onto your pants legs. You’d been pumping yourself up for it for about an hour and a half now, so it hadn’t hit you with quite as much force as it probably would have back home, “What is there to apologize for? You were clearly the more qualified of the two of us.”

“You were going through hell because of Youngho. I wasn’t more qualified, I was just... available,” she sighs deeply, “and I just wanted to tell you that I didn’t know that it was your position at the time I accepted. They’d only told me that another, better position opened up and that they wanted me to move up and... yeah.”

You churn the thick fruit mixture with your straw thoughtfully. “It had all happened so quick. I believe you.”

“But it doesn’t change the fact that I took your dream away from you. You had wanted that job so badly, and I... I feel terrible everyday that I come to work.”

“Yongsun,” you command her attention immediately, meeting her sorrowful eyes, “...it’s not your fault, it never was. We both have dreamed of jobs at that place since we were freshmen. You worked just as hard as I did. I didn’t keep up to par and they did what companies do. I can’t fault you for being in the right place at the right time.”

“I should have...” Her voice trembles, “I should have done more.”

“We both were caught off guard, huh?” You ask with a sympathetic smile, reaching a hand out to touch hers. Yongsun lets a few tears fall from her eyes in response. “I’m sorry for ignoring you over it. That wasn’t cool.”

“It’s okay,” she sniffles, squeezing your hand back, “I understood why you did. I... I really love you, (Name). I don’t know what I’d do without you. I don’t want to lose you.”

God, it had been a long time since you’d heard something like that.

You reach out to her and pull her into a tight hug, letting her hiccup into your shirt even as bystanders give you both odd looks in retaliation. You only hold her tighter.

After a few minutes, Jungkook has exited the changing room with a few pairs of the same jeans slung over his arm, quietly assessing the situation. When it looks like Yongsun has calmed down enough, he makes his way over, “I think we’re almost all good on the clothes front. Can we stop by one more place?”

If Yongsun is confused about you paying for all of Jungkook’s clothes, she doesn’t say anything about it.

Jungkook ends up taking you to a much different store on the third floor... a very familiar one. “Jungkook...” You ask, looking at him in confusion, “you want to shop here?”

The boy grins, “It’s your favorite, isn’t it? It’s my treat.” You try to tune out the cooing that Yongsun is making in your ear from behind.

“But I’m paying- okay.” He doesn’t let you finish your thought, dragging both you and Yongsun into the store with relative ease and dumping you off at the first rack you see. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d really treated yourself to anything nice. You rarely felt like you deserved to lavish yourself with anything back in the day, but after all you’d been through in the past few days... you can splurge a little, right?

You find yourself enjoying the moment the more you walk around, picking up pieces here and there and knowing that money was virtually no issue. You could get whatever you wanted. It was... kind of heaven, actually.

Yongsun would follow you around, dropping off things she found herself that she thought you would like. When your arms were nearly overflowing with clothes, she’d pushed you toward the changing rooms to try some of them on, urging you to show each and every one of the outfits off to her and Jungkook, and show them off you did.

You hadn’t even made a dent in the pile by the time you’d shimmied into the fifth outfit, quietly admiring your figure in the lit mirror before you. A small smile graced your face: who knew it could be this nice just doing something fun for yourself?

You smooth down the fabric of your clothing and prepare yourself to leave when you feel the room grow a little warmer behind you. Odd. You look back up in the mirror and almost scream out loud.

The not-so-strange stranger hovering behind you grabs you by the throat from behind and shoves you against the wall, making the stall shudder in response. The lights on the mirror keeping the small room lit flickered and burned out at the same time by no natural coincidence.

He was there. The beautiful man you’d passed on the street before. The one who you’d thought was from out of this world. How did he...?

“You and that angel of yours are awfully hard to get alone, you know?”

#majwrites #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #jungkook au #angel!jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts au #yoongi scenarios #yoongi imagines #yoongi au #demon!yoongi #min yoongi #bts #jungkook angst #yoongi angst #angel bts #demon bts

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myhockeyworld87 · 5 years ago

Text

Nervous Regrets - Tyler Seguin - Part 18

Word Count: 4686

POV: Reader’s

Warnings: Smut, like NSFW, cursing

Notes: I’m just going to apologize in advance for the smut, I don’t know what came over me; but at the same time I really enjoyed writing this smut. Is that wrong? hahaha! If it is I don’t want to be right...hahaha. I hope you guys enjoy it as much I do. Peace, Love and Hugs!

Of course, arriving at the new house at two in the morning wasn’t the way you wanted to see your dream home; but it still took your breath away when you walked through the door. The décor almost looked like something out of a magazine, and not your home. You couldn’t believe the amazing job the designer and her team had done in such a short time. You walked around the place in awe; it literally was your dream come to life.

The chandelier over the dining room table looked gorgeous and cask the room in an intimate glow; you couldn’t wait to have a meal in there. The office still had work to do, but you just overlooked that. When you entered the open concept kitchen and family room; it looked warm and cozy. The designer had placed pictures of both your families, as well as some of you and Tyler throughout the room. The built-in bookshelves also housed some, as well as vases and unique decorations. You felt like your head was on a swivel taking everything in; everywhere you turned there was something else to see. Tyler’s words, brought you out of the spell that had been cast from when you walked inside. “Wow! The place looks amazing.” You could hear the wonder and awe in his voice.

“I know! It’s simply gorgeous. I can’t believe we live here.” The two of you strolled into the game room, where all of Tyler’s memorabilia had been put out on display. “Oh my god, I love this. It looks so much better in here than where it was in the old place.” His framed jerseys were hung on the wall, as well as some of the most important pucks from goals he’d scored.

“Come on let’s go see the upstairs.” He grabbed your hand as you made your way up the staircase. The room you had chosen for the baby was left empty, though three other bedrooms had been transformed into beautiful guest suites for when family stayed with you. In the movie theater, you could just picture you and Tyler curled up watching one of your favorite flicks. An authentic popcorn machine adorned the back wall, which you had a feeling you’d be using soon, as a craving suddenly hit you.

You made your way through the rest of the house, before Tyler scooped you up in his arms and carried you into the master suite. “Ty, is this really necessary?” It seemed to be a new habit of his lately.

“Yes.”

The bedroom furniture that you’d ordered fit the room perfectly. On the nightstand was the black and white photo of you and Tyler that was your favorite. The bedding gave the room a cozy vibe and made you want to crawl up among all the pillows; which you would have, had you not still been in Tyler’s arms. “It’s gorgeous in here.” You squirmed in his arms, so you could take the whole view in; and he gently laid you down on the pillows.

“You’re the gorgeous one.” He crawled on top of you, a distinct look in his eye that you recognized so well. It may have been close to three in the morning, and you were exhausted but one look at Tyler and your whole mood changed. Reaching up you placed your palm on his jaw and brought his lips to yours; where you kissed him lovingly. “I want you so bad baby; but I know it’s been a long day.”

“Ty, stop talking and take this damn costume off; so we can christen this bedroom properly.” He laughed, then tugged the sleeves of the one-piece Mario getup off his arms; while you wiggled out of the dress, both of you moving feverishly. Finally, you were both stripped down to your undergarments; only then did you come back together, hands roaming each other’s bodies, as your mouths fused together. As you trailed your nails down his back, he shivered and pressed his body into yours; a moan escaping you when he did. He slid your bra straps down, his lips going to the skin he exposed. Popping the clasp, your breast sprang free and he took a taut nipple into his mouth. You squirmed underneath him, as jolts of pleasure pooled in your core. His thigh was between your legs and you found yourself grinding on it, as he continued to suck on your tits. Your hands ran threw his hair, part holding him close and pulling him away.

Your body felt on fire, as you thrust your hips seeking more. “Easy baby.” His hand skated to your hips, holding them down as he rubbed his thigh against your clit; you whimpered. Releasing one hand from his head, you reached inside his waistband and felt his hard length; sliding your palm up and down him. “Fuck (Y/N), the things you do to me.” You pumped him in your hand and felt him harden even more. His hand went to your panties, pulling on the one side to get them to come off. “Lift up, I need these off.” You happily obliged, as he finally rid the lingerie from you.

He removed his boxers at the same time. “Ty, I need you.” It was a moan and a plea all in one; and his hand snaked between the two of you to make sure you were ready for him.

He didn’t need to check; you’d been wet from the moment he laid you on the mattress. You felt his fingers slip between your folds and you sighed from the pleasure of it. “Fuck baby, I need to be inside you.”

“God, yes Ty.” Spreading your legs wide, you invited him to enter you. Cock in his hand, he ran the tip against you; coating himself with your wetness. He leaned his forehead against yours; then thrust fully inside you. “OOOOooo, you feel so good.”

He started to slide in and out of you; your hips rising to meet him. Bodies fitting perfectly together, as he rocks into your pussy. His eyes locked with yours, as the two of you move as one. “God, I love you.” He pants out.

“I love you too Ty….so much.” He thrust into you and you shattered, calling out his name; the sound causing him to fall off the edge with you. You were both sweaty and breathless, as you laid in the new bed sated and happy. Idly you stroked his head, playing with his curls. Neither one of you spoke, and you could feel your lids growing heavy; so, you stirred.

“Babe, where are you going?” Ty’s voice was garbled, laden with sleep; as he tightened his hold on you.

“Bathroom and to let the boys in. It’s their first night too.” You padded across the floor quickly, half disoriented when you entered the ensuite. It took you three attempts before you found your makeup remover and a wash cloth. You made your way back to the bedroom, where Tyler was under the covers asleep. Letting the dogs in, you crawled into bed beside him careful not to wake him up.

All three dogs jumped on the bed, rooting around trying to find a comfortable spot. “Babe, why are you so far away.” He was reaching for you, trying to draw you closer to his body.

“I thought you were sleeping and didn’t want to wake you up.” You scooted over, making Gerry move in the process. You kissed him quickly before rolling over so he could spoon you; within five minutes you were both sound asleep.

At eight in the morning the alarm went off, startling you both. “Why in the hell is the alarm ringing?” Tyler grumbled over at you; as he squeezed you tighter and shut his eyes.

Leaning over as best you could, you grabbed the phone; silencing the alarm. “The designer is coming at nine to finish. Can you let me up?”

“Uh-uh” A small chuckled escaped your lips at his childish answer. “Call her and tell her to come tomorrow.”

“I have to work tomorrow and you’re leaving on a road trip.” His arm around your waist grew heavier, you could tell he was relaxing back into slumber. “You sleep, I’ll handle the designer; and try to keep them quiet.” Thankfully the office was on the opposite side of the house. Moving his arm, you slipped out of his embrace and the bed; kissing him on the forehead as you made your way to get ready.

Shortly after nine the designer and team showed up and got to work. She went over the few changes she made yesterday to the house with you; and a few thoughts she had about the nursery. You and Tyler hadn’t had time to discuss the baby’s room yet; though you were quite fond of what she had put together for you.

Tyler came out to the kitchen around ten-thirty. “Morning babe. You want me to make you some breakfast?” You asked going up on your toes to greet him with a kiss. He held you longer than necessary with random people roaming your house; though you didn’t mind.

“Sure, if you’re going to eat too.” He knew you too well; knew that you’d only grabbed a protein bar earlier. You nodded your head yes; then went about getting ingredients for omelets. “So I forgot to mention to you last night; that Chubbs and Rads are coming over this afternoon.” You glanced over at him before he continued. “When we were waiting out in the garage, we were talking about the place and I said to come on over and check it out. You don’t care do you?”

“No, why would I? What time are they coming?”

“Around four I think. That ok?”

You threw the eggs in the skillet and started to cook them. “Yeah that’s fine. Why don’t you text them and have them stay for dinner. I told Jamie I would cook when you guys got home, but we could do it tonight as well.”

“You sure babe. I don’t want to put you out or anything.”

“I planned on cooking for us; it’s no biggie to add two more.” Adding the cheese to omelets, you gave them a few more seconds in the pan. “Did you want to grill or want me to make something else?”

“You know what I really want?” you looked at him questioningly. “Your stuffed shells.”

Placing his plate in front of him, you teased. “Those take forever to make, and you don’t even like pasta.”

“I made that comment one time in an interview; and you’ll never let me forget it.” You both laughed. “But you know I love your stuffed shells, their one of my favorite foods.”

“I know. How about I have them for you when you come back.” You’d be in the kitchen all day if you made them; between the homemade sauce and then cooking the meat to fill them.

“Alright. How about that roast you made that one time your parents came up?”

“God Ty, that was like what; this past May or something. Wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, well what can I say; it was unforgettable.” He forked a mouthful in; his breakfast practically gone before you even sat down.

“Alright, I’ll run to the store and get the stuff; while you clean up from breakfast.” He scrunched his face but then grabbed a bite of your omelet.

“We could both clean up and both go to the market.” Which really meant, you’d be doing the dishes while he sat there and watched you; which was fine. The man would really do anything to get out of loading the dishwasher.

“Ok.” You finished your breakfast; Tyler stealing bites here and there. The two of you headed to the store, grabbing all you needed for your impromptu dinner. By the time you returned home, the designer was just finishing up. Everything looked perfect, and you thanked her for all her hard work; telling her you’d be in touch soon.

You were just finishing up dinner when Rads and Jamie came by. Tyler was giving them the grand tour of the house; when they finally ended up in the kitchen. “So what do you guys think?”

“It’s really incredible.” Jamie stated. “I can’t believe the backyard.”

“Yeah, really nice digs.” Rads added. “Smells good in here.”

“Thanks, I hope you guys are hungry.” You’d set the table in the kitchen, instead of the dining room; since it was just the four of you. “You guys want a beer or some wine? Ty, would you get them some drinks?”

He got the drinks, while you took the meat out for him to carve. Everyone sat down at the table, as you brought the meal over. You were mid-step carrying over the asparagus, when the baby kicked you hard. “Woah, easy there little one.” Jamie looked at you with a worried expression. “It’s fine, the baby is just kicking a lot at the moment. Want to feel?” You placed his hands on your abdomen where the baby was kicking.

“Wow that’s amazing.”

Tyler set the meat platter down, an expression on his face you couldn’t read. “Well dinner’s on the table.” He was glaring a bit as Jamie removed his hand from your stomach. Dinner was awkward. While the meal itself was fine; it was the conversation or lack there of that put the room on edge. It seemed as though Tyler was pissed at Jamie for some unknown reason; for he all but shoved him and Rads out of the house as soon as dessert was done. Claiming they all needed to pack for the long road trip ahead. You wished them both good luck as they left and told them you’d have them over again soon.

“Ty, what the hell was that about?” You asked as they were pulling out of the driveway.

“What do you mean?” He was heading back the hall to the bedroom.

“I’m talking about how rude you were during dinner. What set you off?”

He was in the closet, grabbing suits out. “I’m fine. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He pulled out a burgundy based plaid with a navy tie; one of your favorites. You stood there hands folded across your chest as you waited for him to say more. “Stop looking at me like that.” He acted this way a few times before, most recently with Robert. Which is why you continued to remain silent, until he told you what was going on. “Fine, do you really want to know what’s bothering me?”

“I asked, didn’t I?” It was a snarky comment, but he was pushing your buttons at the moment.

“I’m tired of you and Jamie flirting all the time.” Taking a step back, you were thrown for a loop with that comment.

“What are you talking about? Jamie and I do not flirt.”

“Last night, I found you in his arm twice; then today he’s got his hands on your stomach feeling my baby.” Was he serious? One look at his face and you knew the answer to that question before even asking that.

“Ty, you’re being ridiculous. First off, I’m madly in love with you. Secondly, he’s your best friend and my friend as well. We’re not flirting with each other.” How could he misinterpret a few simple hugs?

“Well, it seems like that. He’s always saying that he’s going to steal you away, when I fuck up. Now he’s feeling my baby kicking. That’s supposed to my thing; you know?”

“Ty, you feel the baby all the time and talk to it. I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal.” Really, you hadn’t thought anything about it, when you’d offer Jamie to touch you; honestly you would’ve asked Rads as well if Tyler hadn’t declared you all eat. “And you know he’s just kidding when he says he’s going to steal me; at least I hope you do. Jamie’s been nothing but a friend to both of us.” His back was towards you, sifting through clothes; so, you placed your hand on his shoulder to turn him. He pivoted easily. There was hurt in his eyes, and tore at your heart. “Babe, you know I love you right.” He nodded.

“You and the baby are my world. I’m not really sure what all this is about, but I think you know deep down that Jamie nor I were ever flirting. So talk to me and tell me what’s wrong?”

He blew out a frustrated breath. “I know you’re right.” His hands went to caress your baby bump. “I don’t know what was wrong with me, I just got so jealous of him touching you like this. It’s completely stupid. I know Jamie doesn’t want to steal you away; though he does like to tease me about it all the time. And I know you love me; and I love you more than anything. I guess I’m just still scared of losing you to someone else. I couldn’t take it, ya know.”

“Babe, I’m not going anywhere; and especially not with Jamie.” You both chuckled; the tension leaving Tyler a bit. “And now that I know people touching my baby belly sets you off, I’ll not let anyone do that.”

He was still rubbing your belly, as the baby kicked again. “I know I sound irrational right now. I think I’m just on edge cause we have this road trip coming up. I just hate leaving you anymore.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “It’s just the whole Robert thing happened when I was going on a roadie, then the car accident.” He pulled you close to his chest, and you wrapped your arms around him. “I’m afraid every time I leave anymore, and I know I’m just imagining things with Jamie. You don’t have to stop people from touching the baby; maybe…I don’t know let me feel first.”

You smirked into his shirt. “I can do that.” Looking up into his eyes, you reminded him. “You know the baby and I are going to be fine right? And that no one, and I mean no one; is going to steal me or the baby away from you.”

“I know.” He said smiling down at you. Raising up on your toes you kissed him passionately, pouring all your love into him. When you finally broke apart, he said. “See, now I don’t want to leave again.”

You snuck out of his arm, then tapped his ass. “Get back to packing Seguin…Oh, and apologize to your best friend, for being a butthead tonight.”

“Did you just call me a butthead?”

“Mmmm I did. I’m going to the office to do some work. Come find me when you’re done.” With that, you grabbed something out of the closet and headed out the door.

By your estimations you had about ten to fifteen minutes before Tyler would be in the office; but since you’d been planning this all day, it wouldn’t take long for you to get set up. It took exactly eighteen minutes before you heard his voice in the house. “Hey babe.” When you didn’t answer he yelled again. “Babe, do you know where that burgundy suit coa……” His words died as he stood in the doorframe of the office, drinking in the sight of you. You could only imagine the sight he was seeing; sitting in the office chair, in only his suit coat and navy tie, clad in the black pair of Louboutin shoes he bought you for Valentine’s Day, with a pair of thigh highs on.

The suit coat was buttoned so that it didn’t expose your breasts. As you ran your fingers through the tie, you said. “Looking for this?” Your feet were propped up on the desk, exposing the red soles of the shoes you only wore on special occasions.

Tyler’s eyes were wide, and he was blinking hard. “I…I thought you were….working?”

“I thought about it.” You shrugged. “And then I thought, we still have more rooms to christen in this place.” Dropping the tie between your breasts, you added. “So are you just going to stand there? I think I might be getting wrinkles in this jacket.” You sat upright, doing your best impression of Basic Instinct. He was in front of you before you could say another word. Mouth crushing yours in a kiss that was raw and savage; neither of you holding anything back.

“Fuck babe, this is so hot.” He pulled you out of the chair and into his arms. Grabbing the hem of his shirt, you threw it over his head and across the floor. His tie followed, while his mouth sucked on your neck. The two of you turned, your ass bumping up against the edge of the desk. You’d taken the liberty of removing anything breakable in the fifteen minutes before he came, though you’d left a few stray odds and ends. He pushed them aside, like you’d see in some cheesy movie; it was sexy as hell, and part of the reason you’d left things on the desk. Then he lifted you, sitting you down on the desk; as he unbuttoned his suit coat you were wearing.

Draped across your shoulders, it hung there loose; exposing your breasts to him. He drew a nipple in his mouth, lightly biting down. You moaned and arched your back; feeling yourself sliding down on the desk top. “Ty, stop.” He raised his head immediately, a stricken look on his face; thinking he’d caused you pain. “The coat.” You struggled slightly, trying to remove it. “I really don’t want to wrinkle it.”

He laughed, though he took the jacket and lay it across the chair. “God woman, what you do to me.” He followed you down onto the desk, stripping his jeans to the floor as he did. His hands trailed up and down your body; lighting a fire inside you. You pulled his mouth down on yours, sweeping your tongue inside his; taking control of the kiss. His hands skated up to knead your breasts, and you groaned with pleasure; breaking the kiss. “You like that baby.” He pinched your nipple hard and you moaned again. “Yeah babe, let me hear you.”

His other hand reached down to your wet pussy; where he sank a finger deep inside you. “Fuck Ty, yes.” Your hips bucked up against his hand.

“You’re always so ready for me babe. Do you know how that turns me on?” He added a second finger as he continued to pump in and out of you. “Are you wet for me when I’m gone? Do you think of me doing this to you when I’m away?”

“Yes…Ty…Yes” You panted out.

“Do you touch yourself here,” He pushed his fingers deep into your pussy. “When I’m on the road.” You moaned, the sound filling the room. You were incapable of speech at the moment, as pleasure coursed through your body. “Do you know I picture you doing that when I’m gone. I think about you lying on our bed, naked; your pussy dripping wet thinking about me, as you slid your fingers in and out of it.”

“Fuck Ty!” You couldn’t deny it, for every word he said was true. You’d pleasured yourself numerous times that way when he’d been gone.

“I get so hard thinking about you like that.” Reaching down you took hold of his cock; feeling how stiff he actually was. Though he was leaving in the morning, you wanted him inside you right now; while he was still here. “I stroke my cock, while I think about your legs spread wide open as you play with your clit. Sometimes I cum just thinking of that right there.”

Your body arched off the desk. “Fuck Tyler…I need you…please babe, fuck me now.”

He took his cock out of your hand then. “You want this baby.”

“Ty…please.” You were begging, but you needed him inside you. “Please.”

He placed his cock at your entrance, rubbing it against you. A whimper escaped you. “So needy,” he smirked; but you could see how much holding back was killing his as well. The tip of him entered you and you sighed from even that small contact. “You want the rest baby?” you nodded. “Then tell me.”

“Fuck Ty, stop teasing.” You rocked your hips trying to take more of him; but he pressed your waist down to the desk with his free hand at the same time. He would make you wait no matter how bad it was killing you both. After he’d expressed his vulnerability to you earlier tonight, he must need affirmation that you were his. You’d let him have this, at least this time. “Ty, I need you…I need you to fuck me…right now. Please baby, I need your cock inside me… I need you, only you…so bad.”

Your begging put him over the edge and he plunged his dick inside you, filling you until he bottomed out. “Oooo…fuck (Y/N) you feel so good.” He leaned down and kissed you, not moving his cock that was buried inside you. Looping your legs around his hips, you pressed him deeper inside you. He rested his forehead on yours. “You know your mine baby…all mine.”

“Yes Ty…yours, only yours.” He slid his cock slowly out of you. “Mmmm” Inch by inch he filled you back up again. “Oh god!” Hips rising to meet him, you couldn’t stop the rush of desire that went through you. Sweat broke out across his brow, from his painstakingly slow progress. “Faster Ty...please.”

Even though you were begging again, he continued to move slowly; taking the full length of himself leisurely in and out of your pussy. “I love you (Y/N).” In went his cock. “Tell me you love me too.” Gradually he glided out. “That you won’t leave me.”

His vulnerability was written across his face, and it tore at your heart. “I’ll never leave you Ty.” Tears slid down his cheeks. “We’ll never leave you.” Your eyes borrowed into his, as you spoke the words, emphasizing we’ll, so he knew you meant both you and the baby. “I love you….I love you so much Ty.” Reaching your hands up to his face, you caressed his tears away, as you kissed him with all the love you had. He started to pump rapidly into you then; his cock hitting the perfect spot inside you. “I love you.” It was a mantra you kept repeating over and over, as he made love to you; until finally you reached that peak, falling over screaming out his name. “TYLER”

He thrust one last time into you, his face filled with ecstasy; as his cum poured inside you. Falling on top of you, you felt his tears as he whispered. “I love you so much (Y/N).”

You held him close to you, one hand stroking the curls on top of his head. “I love you too. I’ll love you forever and so will our baby.”

He picked his head off your chest, looking you straight in the eyes. “Promise?”

“I promise Ty.” You’d only seen him once like this before, so raw and emotional; when you told him about the baby. This road trip was really messing with him; he needed reassurance and so you gave it to him. “Babe, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here waiting for you when you get back.” He nodded knowing the words you spoke were true; a smile spreading across his face. “Now can we go to bed, in this place? Because as much as I like this new desk, it’s not extremely comfortable.” You both giggled, as he rose off you; then scooped you up in his arms, carrying you back to your bedroom. The jacket, wrinkles and all, ended up being worn to the arena on his next game day; a huge smile on his face as he walked with it on.

#tyler seguin #tyler seguin imagine #tyler seguin imagines #tyler seguin smut #dallas stars #dallas stars imagine #dallas stars imagines #nhl smut #nhl fanfic #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey smut

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wxyvision · 5 years ago

Text

Dear First Love {3/4}

Genre: angst, fluff

Word count: 2,106

Part 1 | Part 2

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Dear first love,

So you heard, from either Guanheng or Mark, I assume, that I wanted you to teach me how to dance. I mean, I was sort of serious, I thought it could be a good way to get closer to you whilst doing something fun. I wasn’t actually expecting them to tell you, though. I should thank you for actually offering to teach me, and for not laughing at my bad dancing. I was surprised that you bought food and drinks for me, I really wasn’t expecting you to do that. The food was tasty, thank you. You keep making me fall for you more and more with your sweet actions. It’s not fair, how do I make your heart melt? How do I make you fall for me the way I have done for you? I keep hoping maybe I’ll get really good at dancing and your heart will flutter. I can hope, huh? You were really patient with me, I appreciated that. I think I would have gotten frustrated after a while! Also, did you notice that my Mandarin improved a lot? I’ve been studying hard recently! Guanheng still doesn’t know that I’m learning for you, I think he thinks I’m learning because a lot of the boys speak the language and not because I have feelings for you. We talked a lot whilst you taught me, it was fun. Did you enjoy it too? I hope maybe we can do it again in the future, even though I’m nowhere near as talented as you are. Even if I mess up all of the steps, I would be a fun time as long as I get to spend it with you! I wish I had something to share with you in return as a thank you, but you’re already into acting, so it’s nothing new to you. What can I do?

Your little dumpling

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Dear first love,

Guess how long it’s been since we met! It’s been a whole two years!! Right now it’s nearing the summer holidays and I’m really looking forward to it. Especially since we made plans to hang out over the summer, both alone and with the boys. Just as long as we don’t go camping, I don’t want anyone to break a bone or anything. Perhaps we could visit the zoo! Or maybe the beach? Again, I would love to go to the theme park all together, but I can imagine that it would be chaos! Can you imagine a group of teens running around like kids in a sweetshop? Yeah... maybe that would be one for just us two, or us and a couple others. That would be nice, wouldn’t it? Oh, but I forgot you’re afraid of heights, aren’t you, my little chicken wing? Perhaps that wouldn’t be such a good idea after all.. I’m sure we’ll find something that everyone wants to do! Do you have any other plans for the summer holidays? I know you said something about trying to visit home for a week or two, I hope you get to spend some quality time with your family, you must miss them a lot. My summer holidays will be spent either hanging out with you and the boys or doing random little doodles when I get bored of eating ice cream in the park. Ha, just kidding, I’ll never get tired of eating ice cream. Especially if the other person is paying ;). I should do a doodle of you, but I would have to do a doodle of everyone so it doesn’t seem like I’m only drawing you. After all, I don’t want to make my feelings obvious, especially because I don’t know how you feel… Damn, why can’t I just tell you? It seems so silly to be so scared. You wouldn’t run away, right?

Your little dumpling

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Dear first love,

Summer flew by fast! I think it's because I had a lot of fun. We should be able to meet up once before school starts again, right? We got the chance to hang out a lot over the summer, which was amazing. We all went to the beach a couple of times... that was complete chaos, but it was funny when we all tried to throw Mark in the water. He still uses that against me. You wouldn't believe how many ice creams he's gotten out of me. At least YangYang managed to get us free ice cream out of the oldie hehe. Did you enjoy the little water fight? We were on the same team, weren't we? I always knew you were secretly competitive! You were a good shot, better than me at least. I wish we could do that again some time. There's always next summer, isn't there? I hope we'll all stay in contact when we leave. It's our last year here now, and then we will have graduated. It's kind of sad to think that I may never see you and the other boys after then, but I hope we at least talk sometimes, even if it's not as much as we do now. I'm just gonna enjoy this year as much as I can and make even more amazing memories with you! We made plans to hang out often, assuming school doesn't get in the way too much. I won't be doing any performing this year, I have enough on my plate with exams and that, but I volunteered to be a stagehand, so I'll still be pretty busy. Not too busy that I can't see you, I hope. Maybe we can all go bowling again like we did over the summer. It was a little difficult since we couldn't all play against one another, but it was fun to have a friendly competition. And how could I forget? You and me going to the zoo together, just the two of us. It turns out you were just as excited to see all of the animals as I was. Although I wasn't just happy because of seeing the animals, but because I got to spend time with you, too. We took many photos, didn't we? I hope we can both look back at that day with fondness. I know I will. If only it could have been a date, but I will settle for a hangout for now. Perhaps one day?

Your little dumpling

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Dear first love,

It was your birthday on Wednesday! You're another year older and wiser (and sweeter) now. I know this year it was a bit less organised than before, but everyone has been busy with school work recently so we had less time to make proper plans. It's regretful, especially since this is the last year celebrating your birthday like this. Still, it was nice to have a more relaxing celebration, don't you think? Well, apart from Lucas starting a high note battle and nearly getting us kicked out. But it's those kind of memories that we'll keep in our hearts. The two of you had two cakes (lucky!). Unfortunately one of them was allowed to be decorated by Donghyuk and Guanheng… sorry about that. They really made a mess, didn't they? Still, they were proud of their "artwork". It was cute, though… kinda. You looked really happy the whole time, I don't think I ever saw that smile leave your face, not even for one second. I'm really glad that spending time with us made you so happy. We also celebrated Halloween together, didn't we? It was pretty cool seeing everyone dress up in fun costumes. You looked super handsome as always! It probably wasn't a good idea to watch spooky movies though. All I kept hearing was someone screaming… and I could see a few of the boys hiding behind cushions. But then Johnny put on a Halloween playlist and we had a mini rave. I don't think I've ever seen anyone waving strawberry pencils like a lightstick before. It's these sort of things we learn not to question after a while, huh? It was good to spend more time with you, school has been pretty hectic recently. It seems that every class has a million and one assignments to complete and to blink would be wasting time. Still, that's no excuse not to party! ...Maybe that's why I'm so behind. I hope things are going well for you. I hope your classes aren't too crazy and that work isn't piled up high for you <3

Your little dumpling

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Dear first love,

Christmas has come and gone! How was it for you? I heard that you went home to see your family this year. I know how much you've been missing them from the conversations that we've had lately. I keep seeing photos of you and your family on your Instagram. You look absolutely adorable in that Christmas sweater! I can tell how happy you are to be home from how wide your smile is and from the twinkle in your eyes. I wish for you to be that happy always. I can't wait to hear all about your Christmas when school starts again. I wonder what sort of presents you got. I bet you got something really cool, right? Did you eat well? There was so much food for me, but I ate a lot! I mostly received money and small gifts but I treasure those gifts a lot because they were so thoughtful. Did you enjoy the presents you got from me and the boys? I know mine wasn't that much but it's the thought that counts, right? I know how much you like those. Are you flying back for New Year's Eve? Johnny is throwing a party to see in the new year. I hope that you'll be there but if not, then happy new year. I hope next year treats you even better. Time seems to fly by so fast, doesn't it? It feels like only a week ago that the year began, yet it's already ending! Are you planning on making a resolution? I never stick to mine. I always promise myself that I'll eat healthier, or procrastinate less, or sleep better but I never do. I wonder if it's the same for you.

Your little dumpling

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Dear first love,

I wasn't going to write another letter so soon but I have to get these feelings out of my head and onto this page. I'm glad you were there for the party. You looked handsome as ever, although was I really expecting you not to? You were wearing the cutest sweater I've ever seen. It looked so good on you, but then again what doesn't look good on you? That was… I'm sorry. I'm glad you enjoyed the party. It was nice to spend time with you again after not seeing you for a bit. I heard all about your Christmas with your family. It made me wish I had been there, it sounded so homely and sweet. Your family sound lovely. It's no wonder you're such a sweet person when your family is also that sweet. Still, I'm now wishing that I was busy that day. Or sick. Or for some reason I hadn't been there. As much as it kills me to say that, that's how I feel. Despite being so happy to see you and talk to you and spend lots of time with you, I wish that I hadn't been there. But we can't take back that now, can we? If you were reading this now I bet you'd be wondering why I felt like this, wouldn't you? It sounds so silly, and I shouldn't be so upset over it, but it still hurts. I had always wished that one day I'd have a new years kiss. Maybe I should have been more specific with that wish. I felt so bad. It'll be awkward to see Mark tomorrow. Actually, I don't know if I will. It depends how things go I guess, but I hope things will be okay between us, he's the best best friend I've ever had and I don't want to lose that. I feel bad that he was kissing me yet the only person I could see was you. I feel bad that I don't feel that way for him, and now our friendship is threatened by one stupid kiss. And I wish I felt that way for him because then it wouldn't hurt so much seeing you kissing someone else… I don't know if you have feelings for them or not, but either way the image still makes me heart feel heavy.

Little dumpling

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angellesword · 6 years ago

Text

Contrast

Summary: Yoongi doesn’t know how to finish writing his song.

Pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Idol!Hoseok

Genre: Fluff, minor angst

Word Count: 2.8k (One-shot)

Warnings: discussion of insecurities

Yoongi glared at the intersecting lines in his strikingly white paper. The heavy red inked pen he used to draw those lines was enough to make his head hurt.

Sigh.

He just crossed out an entire stanza of the lyrics he wrote for three hours.

Three. Fucking. Hours.

The lyrics just didn’t fit on the beat of the song he produced. What the hell was wrong with him? He was usually satisfied with his works. In most cases, he could actually finish producing and writing a song in a short period of time.

So why couldn’t he do it now?

Was it the wine? Yoongi absentmindedly ran his finger through his lower lip while thinking.

Was he too dependent on that bittersweet liquor so now that he stopped drinking it, he felt as though he couldn’t function well?

Was that it?

Or was it his pride?

Namjoon offered to help, but Yoongi just brushed him off. He knew Joon had a lot on his plate right now. With his upcoming mixtape, dance practices, meaningful speeches for their love yourself and speak yourself campaign, Yoongi didn’t want to become one their leader's responsibilities.

But the main reason was probably his pride. Namjoon could balance both his personal and work life. So why couldn’t Yoongi?

"Hyung?"

Yoongi felt a hand resting on his shoulder. For some reason, his body began to relax. He was wearing an extra layer of clothes, but he could still feel the comfort and warmth in this person's hand.

He looked back only to see the uneasiness in Hoseok's eyes, his hand was still on Yoongi's shoulder.

"Hobi...you're here...." Yoongi said. His voice was betraying him, though. It's like his system was still processing the fact that Hoseok was really here.

Inside his studio.

And it was just the two of them.

"Yeah. I knocked exactly twenty times." Hoseok replied meticulously, worry was still visible in his eyes.

Yoongi had this rule for the rest of the Bangtan members. They should knock twenty times before entering his studio. But the members, especially the maknae line, didn’t seem to understand the concept of knocking. The boys just barged into his studio whenever they wanted.

"You didn't answer, so I just pressed the magic numbers and went in." Hoseok shrugged his shoulders.

Since the Bangtan boys kept on invading Yoongi's studio, he decided to exercise the use of password lock, but Yoongi was bad when it came to remembering some stuff. There was this one night when he slept outside of his studio because he forgot his passcode.

So when he finally remembered, he immediately told Hoseok about it. He was the only person Yoongi could trust who wouldn’t invade his privacy.

"I brought some food, hyung..." Hoseok smiled brightly as he raised his other hand to show the paper bag containing take-out food.

"Hmm...thanks." Yoongi smiled a little. It's past midnight and he still hadn’t eaten dinner. He barely left his studio.

"Jimin asked me to have dinner with him, but I figured you're the one who needs someone to eat with so..." Hoseok finally removed his hand on Yoongi's shoulder, he then walked straight to the table.

"It's Chinese food. I hope you like it,” Hoseok turned to face Yoongi who was still seated on his swivel chair.

"I eat anything..." Yoongi kept on playing with his lower lip while looking at Hoseok intently. He was watching his every move carefully.

"Good! I brought a lot!" Hoseok smiled. It's the kind of smile that showed his little dimples. The one Yoongi liked the most.

"So...you're going to...eat with me...?" Yoongi asked even though he already knew the answer. Hoseok literally told him a few breaths ago.

"Yes. I just went out with Jimin so I can buy our food. And..." Hoseok stopped speaking momentarily to open the sachet of sauce using his mouth. "I didn't want Jimin to eat alone, so I waited for him to finish."

"I see..." Yoongi nodded.

Hoseok was really that type of person. He always made sure everyone was happy—that everyone was safe. He was always so full of love, especially when it came to his family, friends, and ARMYs, their fans.

Sometimes Hoseok's personality was too much for Yoongi. The former knew how to break almost everyone's wall. He knew exactly what to do or say to a person. He could make anyone feel so special—like you're the only person who matterred. He made everyone feel as though even their pettiest reason should never be ignored.

It scared Yoongi.

Because what if....

What if...he got the wrong idea? What if he thought that he was special, but then Hoseok did this 'special' thing to everyone?

Yoongi was not the smartest person, though he knew that vulnerability and oblivion were the greatest downfall of a human being.

Oblivion. Growing up, Yoongi didn't experience the warmth and kindness of this world. In fact, fate was a little cruel to him. He learned things the hard way. He grew up thinking that everything was not for free.

You wanted food? Okay. Suffer by walking from school to your home in exchange of using your transportation fee to buy a cheap cup of instant noodles instead.

You wanted money? Then let me buy your hard produced music beat for a few bucks.

You wanted to be famous? Spend your life as a teenager full of worries and questions. Will I even debut? How many more songs should I write and produce just to be rejected again?

Isn't leaving Daegu and going to a strange and cruel town enough? What more do I need to do?

You see, these things were some of the reasons why Yoongi could not accept the love and care Hoseok gave for free. Yoongi’s oblivion about unconditional love turned him vulnerable.

He didn't know that someone was capable of doing such things because he grew up in the absence of it. The little affection shown by Hobi made Yoongi feel a lot of things...to the point that he couldn’t control and distinguish it.

Was it love? Or was he just thankful to Hoseok?

"Let's eat, hyung~" Hoseok called, but Yoongi didn't move.

Hoseok pouted and went straight to Yoongi's back. He pushed his hyung's swivel chair until it reached the corner of the table.

Yoongi groaned when his upper abdomen hit the table's corner.

"That's what you get for being lazy." Hoseok stuck his tongue out at him.

Yoongi just shook his head—trying to ignore the fact that his heartbeat just doubled because of Hoseok's silly expression.

Both of them ate in peace. Yoongi wasn’t talking much because he was still worried about his unfinished lyrics. Hoseok, on the other hand, was busy with his food. Yoongi didn't mind. Hoseok's presence was enough to ease the tension he was feeling.

"By the way, Hyung. How's the song you've been writing?"

Yoongi froze the second he heard the question. He remembered promising Hoseok that he would let the younger boy hear it today. It's actually a song that would be rapped by the two of them this upcoming Festa.

Bighit decided to divide the Bangtan Boys into subunits for this year's anniversary. Seokjin, the best vocalist, and Namjoon, the band’s leader, would release a music video. It would be under the production of Golden Closet Film.

Jimin, Taehyung, and Jeongguk were phenomenal dancers so they chose to choreograph dance steps.

Hoseok knew that their members were doing their best. This made him a little anxious and pressured. He wanted to show his best abilities to the ARMYs so kept on pestering Yoongi about their performance. But now that he could see how stressful it was for Yoongi to finish the song, he suddenly just wanted to do something else.

"I'll let you listen to it by tomorrow..." Yoongi stood up and started cleaning the table. Both of them were done eating.

Hoseok noticed the change in Yoongi's mood. Did he say something wrong? Was he too demanding?

Uneasiness washed all over Hoseok again. He studied Yoongi's face. His hyung's lips were protruded into a small but sulky pout. His eyebrows were furrowed too.

Hoseok cleared his throat. He didn't want to upset Yoongi.

"Listen, Hyung..." He started. "Uh, you don't really have to do this...I mean, it's going to be an unofficial song, so....you should not...uhm...." Hoseok tried to find the right thing to say but he couldn’t. So instead, he just helped clean the table.

Yoongi stopped him, though.

"I'll clean up here, Hope. Just do something else..."

Hoseok pouted and sighed in defeat. Yoongi must have been really upset.

Hoseok was dying of curiousity now so he went to his hyung's working table to know what had gotten him so unmotivated.

He raised his brow when he saw five crumpled papers on the table. There were also at least ten scattered white papers here. What really caught his attention was the paper with a big X mark on it.

Hoseok read the words on that paper. A small smile formed in his lips when he realized that Min Yoongi was genius.

This sounds so cliché

but believe me when I say

your smile completes my day

we're contrast, just like what they say

i'm monochrome and you're a rainbow

my dark picture has been colored by you, oh you.

Baby you're my muse. (and my only hope)

"Hyung, why did you remove this? It's brilliant!" Hoseok went near Yoongi just to shoved the paper on his face.

Yoongi immediately snatched the paper away from Hoseok. Damn. He should've thrown this stupid paper in the trash bin!

"I-It's stupid, Hope...." Yoongi avoided Hoseok's shinning eyes.

Did he notice that the song was for him?

"It's not! ARMYs will like it! I like it! No—I love it!" Hoseok grabbed Yoongi frail shoulders, causing him to groan. Yoongi's body felt weak. He had been sitting on his swivel chairs for hours.

"Hyung, you might think I'm only saying this out of guilt for not helping you..." Hoseok bit the inside of his cheek. Sure, he was really guilty but... "You know I don't lie. When I say it's beautiful, it is really beautiful..."

Beautiful. He said that word as if he wasn’t just pertaining to the lyrics but also to the person in front of him.

"So what if it's cheesy? I've always admired your talent for conveying feelings into meaningful words, Yoongi-hyung."

Yoongi blushed. Here we go again. Why did Hoseok always know the right thing to say? Or did he? Maybe those weren’t really the right words. It's just what Yoongi wanted to hear.

Maybe it's never about the right words but the right person.

And maybe it's the way Hoseok spoke or the way he looked at someone as if that person was the sole reason why the sun rises, and why the moon illuminates the heavy, dark night.

"Why are you doing this to me, Jung Hoseok?" Yoongi glared at Hobi. His eyes were slightly red because of unshed tears and frustration.

"W-What do you mean, Hyung?" Hoseok stammered.

Yoongi blinked and then he took a step backward when he noticed how Hoseok's eyes quivered in trepidation.

"I'll finish the song before the anniversary, Hope. Just trust me..."

Hoseok sighed in relief when Yoongi smiled. Nothing else mattered when he saw that gummy smile.

Hoseok’s phone suddenly vibrated.

"Oh! Hyung! Look! Our company just posted the concept photos for the Festa!" Hoseok enthusiastically visited their page to see the photos in his phone.

Hoseok couldn't be happier to see that his favorite photo of him was the album's cover. It took him and the rest of the members two days to finish the photo shoot.

It turned out really well.

But his happiness was short-lived because after several minutes, his photo's likes didn't increase at all.

25,010 likes. 3,056 comments. 743 shares.

He checked the photos of other members.

107,346 likes. 8,222 comments. 4023 shares.

Hoseok couldn't keep track on the numbers on his co-members' photos because it was increasing rapidly.

He was delighted since his members were well-loved and respected by the fans. However, he couldn’t deny the fact that he felt insecure.

It had always been like this. People liked the other members more than Hoseok. He was also often the target of mean and baseless comments on social media platforms. As much as he tried to ignore it, he couldn’t. Some words were too painful. He couldn’t stop thinking that perhaps, they were right.

"Hope..."

"Yeah?" Hoseok flinched when Yoongi touched his shaky hand.

"Are you okay?" Yoongi questioned with furrowed brow. Hoseok's face was really, really pale.

"Huh? Uh...yes. I'm just...." He trailed off. Hoseok didn’t want to lie but he also did not want Yoongi to think he was being petty.

But Yoongi wasn’t having any of his bullshit.

"I know that face so don't you dare lie to me." Yoongi’s voice was low and full of authority. "What's wrong?"

Hoseok swallowed. Hard. He didn't dare to speak.

"Hope, I am asking you..." Yoongi warned. He took a step forward while Hoseok took a step backward.

This annoyed Yoongi. He took another step forward but Hoseok repeated his annoying move. Though, this time, he hadn't done it successfully since his ankle hit the front leg of the swivel chair.

And because Yoongi wouldn’t stop invading Hoseok's personal space, Hobi just decided to take a seat on that swivel chair.

Hoping Yoongi would stop, Hoseok released another sigh of relief.

Yoongi had finally stopped walking towards his direction.

But it's not because he was done with Hoseok. It's just that Yoongi was now standing at most three feet away from Hoseok's swivel chair.

"I asked you what's wrong, Hope. You. Did. Not. Answer. Me." Yoongi said firmly. He even snatched the phone away from Hoseok's grip.

Yoongi's forehead creased because of confusion. What's with these pictures and why was it making Hoseok sad?

Yoongi scrolled down to see all the pictures, trying to understand what's wrong with it. Not a minute passed but Yoongi already knew what this was all about.

"We talked about this, didn't we?" The look on Yoongi's face screamed “I am disappointed.”

That's the problem with Yoongi. When he offered a solution to a problem, he instantly believed that it was the best and it should be followed.

Like when he told Hoseok to ignore the people who didn’t appreciate him, he thought Hoseok's insecurity would just magically go away. Because in Yoongi's case, it had always been like that. Whatever Hoseok did or said,Yoongi believed and followed it.

"You really think the damn numbers matter? Hope, you're..." Yoongi could not finish his sentence. What was the perfect word to describe Hoseok? Did that word even exist?

"This is the reason why I don't want to say anything to you, hyung. You won't understand." It took Hoseok everything not to let his voice crack.

Perhaps Hoseok's greatest downfall was fear. Fear of not being enough. Fear of not being able to show the role he himself wanted to portray. Fear. Fear of not attaining the security he wanted to reach.

It's not about the money. It's not about him getting tired from going extra mile for other people.

It was fear. Fear of not being loved. Fear of leaving this world and not being able to justify the importance of his existence.

Because, why did it have to be him? There were so many people who deserved to live. To be in his position. But why him? What's so special about him?

"It's not that I won't understand, Hope. I can't understand..."

But Hoseok didn't say anything again. He was just trying so hard to purse his lips together and God, Yoongi's patience was being tested.

"You're so fucking insecure. Do you know that?”Yoongi leaned forward so his face leveled Hoseok's.

Yoongi titled Hoseok's chin as he examined his face.

"We should do something about that..." Yoongi whispered. His eyes were still busy scrutinizing Hoseok's face.

"Y-Yoongi..." Hoseok's voice was soft.

Yoongi smirked. His stomach twisted when Hoseok dropped honorifics.

"Yes, Hope?" Yoongi bit his lower lip, trying to catch Hoseok's eyes.

"You go around making other people feel loved when you can't even..."

Hoseok's breathing hitched when he noticed that Yoongi's face was just a few inches away from his probably flushed face.

"Love yourself..." Hoseok closed his eyes when Yoongi left a light as a feather kiss on his lips.

It's just a peck but his body reacted differently.

He knew wanted more.

But Yoongi did not have a plan to repeat that move again.

Yoongi walked towards his working table and immediately stopped the camera from recording.

Hoseok's eyes widen.

Fuck.

They are being recorded.

"I'm not gonna finish this song, Hope. I know what to show to our ARMYs. I’ll let them know who loves you.” Yoongi slightly raised the camera.

He just smirked when Hoseok still remained quiet.

So much for writing a song.

#bts suga #bts jhope #yoonseok #yoonseok fic #sope #bts sope #bangtan #fluff #bts angst #bangtan angst #yoongi x hoseok

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winryofresembool · 6 years ago

Text

Edwin/dad!Ed one-shot: Girl Issues

Summary: Ed’s son Alan has been disappearing a lot from their house, and Ed tries to figure out why.

A/N: finally! This took like a million years. I hope you guys will still enjoy it :) Please let me know what you think!! (bing @automail-freak-and-alchemy-freak)

Edit: I forgot to say there might be a small “easter egg” hidden in the fic, about a movie some Edwin people have been talking about lately :’)

Words: 2450

Warnings: swearing

”Hey, Ed?” Winry addressed her husband who was cleaning the kitchen after the dinner. “Do you think Alan has been acting weirdly lately? He’s been doing… less mechanic work and gone out to town way more often…”

“He has?” Ed stopped putting the plates into the cupboard and turned to look at his wife, raising his eyebrows. “To me he has told that he’s simply taking some extra art lessons with Mr. Dawson because drawing blueprints has never been his strength.”

Winry crossed her arms over her chest and looked just as surprised as he did. “And to me he’s told he’s helping out some friends who have trouble with school… Something doesn’t add up.”

“Hmm. It’s not like him to hide things from us. I think I will call Mr. Dawson tonight and ask him if he’s really been at his house,” Ed decided. The conversation ended at that point because a loud crash could be heard from the living room, and Winry rushed to check what the twins had broken this time.

Only half an hour later, Ed, who was observing Emma’s alkahestry studies upstairs, heard the front door opening and closing. That let him know Alan had just left the building. He waited 10 more minutes, just in case Alan indeed went to the Dawsons, before dialing their phone number.

“Mr. Dawson? Hello! I’m calling you because my son seems to have been spending a lot of time there lately. Is he there right now?”

“No. And he hasn’t been here for the past two or three weeks, so I wouldn’t call that ‘a lot’,” a grumpy voice answered.

Ed narrowed his eyes at that piece of information, but he didn’t want to make Mr. Dawson too suspicious so he didn’t reveal the real reason of his call.

“Oh, OK. Well, thank you, anyway. And if he shows up, could you tell him to come home as soon as possible? Winry has a commission to finish and the twins are currently trying to kill me, so extra hands would certainly be useful.” The part about the twins was obviously a lie, as they were sitting surprisingly quietly in the living room listening to their father’s phone call, but the dramatic wording would probably get Alan home more easily. That is, if he ever got the message.

Winry glanced at Ed curiously when he finished the call.

“So? Did you find out anything?”

Ed shrugged. “Only that Alan hasn’t visited Mr. Dawson for several weeks. I thought he was enjoying his classes!”

“I thought so too,” Winry said, getting more and more confused.

“Did you talk to any of his friends?” Ed asked then.

“I just saw Jack, that boy from his class, down the street, and he said that if Alan had been helping someone, he certainly wasn’t among them. But you know, to me it sounded like he was hiding something from me.”

“Great,” Ed sighed. “So he’s been lying to both of us. What do we do about this?”

“I guess we should get him to talk. But how do we do it? He’s got your blood in him, you know.” Winry threw Ed a sly look that Ed had seen quite many times during their years of marriage.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Ed pretended to be hurt by Winry’s implications.

“Just that you have never been very good at expressing yourself, honey.” Ed snorted, because Winry and he had never been ones for pet names. “But also, since he’s more like you than you probably realize, you should be able to figure out the best way to make him open up. Was there anything that managed to crack your shell open when you were a teenager?”

Ed leaned his jaw against his hand, seeming to consider Winry’s question. His face seemed to have gotten some extra color when he spoke.

“Well, after the Promised Day… There was this girl who had been my friend since forever… She had even built me an automail leg and arm, so I could function… I knew she was upset because I couldn’t tell her what was happening in my life, but after the Promised day, when I felt it was safe to tell her everything… it was easier than I thought. Why? Because she made me feel she cared.”

“Ed… that’s very sweet of you…,” Winry said, completely surprised by her husband’s words and blushing slightly. She let her hand linger on his shoulder for a moment before continuing: “Anyway, I guess that means you should show that you do care about his wellbeing. I mean, deep down he must know that already, but you know, sometimes it’s good to say it aloud. He’s in a difficult age, but I know he really respects you and values your opinions.”

“I hope so,” Ed grunted, not quite believing her.

Until that moment, the twins who had been listening the whole time hadn’t said anything, but suddenly the 4-year-old Henry blurted: “We heard brother talking with big sissy today! He told her to ‘dis… tract you’, whatever that means, while someone comes to get him with a motorbike!”

“Really?” Winry asked, her eyebrows raising probably higher than the twins had ever seen. “Those two are almost as bad as… oh, never mind,” she added quickly when she saw the twins staring at her intensely.

“So that’s why Emma was so eager to show me what she had learned with Mei… She’s usually not that enthusiastic about it,” Ed noted.

“Makes perfect sense. Hey, my little king and queen,*” Winry ruffled her kids’ hair, “you didn’t happen to hear where they were planning to go?”

“No, mum,” the twins said in unison. “But I bet Emma knows!”

“We’ll just have to ask her, then.”

“No, dad, I’m not gonna tell you where Alan is. One, because I don’t know it either since they change their meeting place regularly, and two, because it’s none of your business.”

Emma took a book from her bedside table and pretended to be interested in it instead of looking at her father’s stare. Even though it didn’t work quite as well against her as it once used to, she still felt slightly bad about hiding things from him. Alan was right, though, their parents were too curious for their own good.

“Fine, then. Can you at least tell me with whom he is?”

Emma was positive her father would use what he liked to call “Elric telepathy” on her if she didn’t talk, so she let a little huff from her mouth and said:

“He’s gonna murder me, but… you would find out eventually if they continue doing this. You’re not gonna like this, dad…”

“Emma, just tell me already.” Ed was starting to show signs of losing his patience. Even though he had calmed down after having his children, the old temper still raised its head when he was truly annoyed or frustrated.

“Remember how Mei’s niece from Xing came to visit her and Al a couple of months ago because she wanted to learn more about Amestris and alchemy?” Emma asked, trying to be nonchalant but failing at it.

“Yes, wasn’t she Ling’s daughter?” Ed asked, not understanding why Emma had started talking about her. “Didn’t she have all those guards behind her all the time because she’s the daughter of the Emperor?”

“You are right, she was… Well, what you probably don’t know is that she decided to stay here in Amestris. She’s been trying to keep a low profile because she doesn’t want the media to follow her.”

“OK, but what does this have to do with Alan? I don’t get… OH!” The pieces of the puzzle started finally clicking in Ed’s head, and Emma could see his face taking a more and more dark red shade as he processed the information. “Are you telling me… my son… is seeing… that bastard’s heir?!”

“I told you, you wouldn’t like it.” Emma shrugged. “I thought you and the Emperor were friends, though? Doesn’t he always send you presents on holidays and stuff?”

“Damn right he does,” Ed suddenly stopped caring that he was talking to his daughter, “but that’s only because I once had to pay for a hell of a lot of food for him. He owes me.”

“Whatever you say…” Emma rolled her eyes. “Listen, please don’t be too hard on Alan. From what I’ve seen, they genuinely enjoy each other’s company, and Zhi is a nice person.”

“Fine. But I’m still gonna talk with him.” Under his breath, he mumbled: “what if they decide to get married? What if my son becomes a prince? What if…”

“Um, dad, I don’t know what you had in your mind when you were 15 but I really don’t think they are thinking about marriage yet,” Emma said, amused by her father’s exaggerated reaction.

“When I was 15, I was trying to save our entire country from Homunculi so it was a bit different!”

“Based on your stories, you were only trying to save Uncle Al, dad, and everything else just happened by accident.”

“That… might be true, but you shouldn’t say it aloud, Emma,” Ed gave her a fake hurt look. “I still punched the god on his face!”

“Whatever, dad.” She took her book again and hid her face behind it. “Just… could you go now so I can continue reading in peace? I have a test tomorrow I need to study for.”

“Would you like me to help?”

“Just go, please!”

Ed and Winry had already put the twins into bed when Alan showed up at home again. Winry remained calm on the surface even though Ed knew she must have been sizzling underneath her cool cover. She had always hated it when he and Al had hidden something from her and now, they were talking about their 15-year-old son… Ed guessed that it was normal teenagers acted that way, but that didn’t mean he liked it. He suggested Winry go to check on the rest of the kids while he’d deal with Alan.

“Alan, can we talk?” Ed asked, barely able to contain his annoyance. Alan looked like he sensed his parents had found out something, the guilty expression Winry had seen on Ed so many times giving him away.

“Now? Dad, I’m hungry as fuck, haven’t eaten anything since lunch so can I at least grab a bite first?”

“What’s with that language, young man?” Ed asked disapprovingly.

“Please, like you weren’t the one who taught me that word…” That was the truth, but Ed wasn’t going to let him get away so easily.

“I’ve always told you to not do what I do, not the other way around…”

“Right… Well, since you clearly aren’t allowing me to eat, you might as well get into the topic.” Alan crossed his arms just like his mother had a little bit earlier. That amused Ed a bit.

“We can always talk about it in the kitchen,” Ed noted, a small smile spreading on his face.

“So… what was it you wanted to talk about?” Alan asked when he had a full bowl of stew in front of him.

Ed looked serious again. “I think you know. Don’t think we haven’t noticed your disappearances lately.”

“But I’ve been…”

“We know you haven’t been where you were supposed to be. I talked to Mr. Dawson today and he told me you haven’t visited him for several weeks.”

“I’ve…”

“Listen, the sooner you admit it, the better. Do you want me to know the real story or the vague one Emma told me?”

“She told you about Zhi? Damnit, I’m never telling her anything again.”

“I think you are missing the point there, son.”

“Fine,” Alan finally admitted, as he was lapping the stew into his mouth. “Yes, I’ve been hanging out with Mei’s niece… who also happens to be the Xingese Emperor’s daughter.”

“And…?”

“And what? What are you expecting me to tell you? That she’s pregnant? That we are about to announce our engagement any day now? That I’ve decided to move to Xing and leave my family behind forever?”

“None of those things are true, right?” Ed raised his eyebrow suspiciously.

“Of course they aren’t! I like her, and we have a lot of fun when we are hanging out… But I do realize that she’s a princess from another country. And she knows the realities too. She’s gonna have to go back eventually. And when she does, she is in the constant focus of her people. That is not something I’ve ever imagined going through, but why does it have to mean I’m not allowed to enjoy this moment? I knew you guys would react badly to this, that’s why I didn’t tell anything.”

“Now we finally got to the root of the problem,” Ed said. “I don’t mind you hanging out with this Zhi girl… the princess… whatever… But I am upset that you have been lying to us for a long while now.”

Alan couldn’t help but roll his eyes in annoyance. “Like you’ve never had any secrets yourself…”

“I admit that when I was your age, I hid a lot of things from your mother, because I wanted to keep her safe… But I regretted it a lot. I could see she hated it, and it made me upset too. After the Promised Day, I was so relieved because I could finally share everything. I think it made our relationship stronger too.” Ed sighed before adding: “I’m not good at these things, but what I’m trying to say is that please don’t hide things from us just because you think we might not like what you are wanting to tell us. We are here to support you.”

“Dad, thanks… And sorry… for not telling you.” “No problem, son. I’m just saying what I wish my father had once told me.”

“Oh…” Alan hadn’t heard his father talking about his father a lot. He had just always assumed they had had a bad relationship. And this proved he had been right.

“So, now that we have dealt with that…,” Ed spoke suddenly, “about this Zhi girl… how far have you gone with her? Do I need to have the talk with you?”

“Dad, stop being so embarrassing!” Alan screamed and jumped off his chair. “I’m not gonna talk about that with you! Uncle Al or even the Emperor of Xing would give better advice than you!”

“Hey, take that back!” Ed growled, but Alan had already run away from the kitchen, and he was left to fume with anger on his own.

*Names Erika and Henry both mean rulers and I have a headcanon that the twins indeed are the rulers of the Rockbell-Elric household even though they are all a pretty strong willed bunch.

#edwin #edward elric #winry rockbell #my fics #fullmetal alchemist #woop #ps. ignore the typos thank

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cristinablackthornkingson · 7 years ago

Text

Shadowhunters Short Story #23.

“Christopher, what on earth are you doing?” Anna asks, a hint of worry in her tone, as she walks into the drawing room to find Christopher mixing two brightly colored liquids together.

Ever since Christopher could walk and talk, he’d been highly interested in science and inventing. When he was a toddler and Cecily and Gabriel took he and Anna to the library, Christopher was always looking for something to do with science, or mathematics, he had always been wonderful at mathematics. When Anna was born, Cecily and Gabriel decided that they would teach her and any other children they had, at home themselves, the basics at least, until they were old enough to go to Shadowhunter Academy. One day when Anna was 8 and Christopher was 5, while Gabriel worked on reading with Anna, Cecily began to teach her son the basics of mathematics. She left Christopher to solve a few questions, when she came back 5 minutes later, he had them completed the questions and they were all correct. He didn’t solve the mathematics problems in the traditional way, and Cecily couldn’t really understand his method, but he solved the questions easily, and that was all that mattered. It was then Cecily and Gabriel realized they had a little Genius on their hands.

Christopher had always been very quiet and withdrawn, in a world of his own, unlike his big sister, who was a whirlwind of energy and noise. Christopher had also always been very scatter brained, and bad at focusing on anything but his science and inventions. Even now at 13, he was often thinking about science and mathematics and zoned out of conversations, stopped talking in the middle of a sentence, he often forgot if he’d made a sandwich or some other snack, and leave it lying around for weeks, their maid Clara,found this extremely frustrating and though she understood Christopher never meant any harm, she often found it hard not to loose her temper with him when reminding him to please not leave food lying around. The one rule Cecily and Gabriel had for their son and his science and inventions, was that he only perform experiments and such in the basement, where he was less likely to destroy anything. That is why Anna is so surprised and also worried, to see her brother mixing two odd looking liquids together, in the drawing room filled with flammable objects and many valuable things that could easily be broken.

“Experimenting.” Christopher calmly says, continuing to mix the liquids.

“You know you are not suppose to do that anywhere but the basement Christopher, if you damage anything in here, mama and papa will be furious.” Anna gently says, not wanting her brother to think she was going to get him in trouble with their parents, that is exactly what she is trying to avoid right now. Anna was never usually so gentle with anyone, but her brother was different. When he came along when Anna was 3, at first she was very jealous, she wasn’t use to sharing her parents attention, and she especially wasn’t use to sharing her Uncle Will’s attention. She absolutely adored her Uncle Will, she saw him as one of the greatest men in the world. She adored reading books with him and playing hide and seek in The Institute with he and Aunt Tessa, there were so many great hiding spaces in The Institute, once she had been playing hide and seek with Jamie and Lucie and they didn’t find her for almost an hour, she was still proud of that to this day. Shortly after Christopher was born though, and Anna got to know him and bond with him, she fell totally in love with him and became fiercely protective of him, and she still felt that way toward him today. She was extremely protective of her cousins Jamie and Thomas too, and Jamie’s parabatia Matthew Fairchild. They were all sweet boys who Anna adored, she knew Jamie often got teased for his unusual eyes, Christopher was often made fun of for his aloofness, without him even realizing, Thomas was often bullied for being shy and quiet, as well as for being the son of a former mundane maid, and Matthew was often mocked and made fun of, for his joyful, care-free, over-dramatic personality, he wasn’t like most boys his age, and teenagers were so cruel to those who were different. Anna herself had often been the brunt of many jokes, for dressing in men’s clothes more than she dressed in women’s clothes, and for being so open and honest about her attraction to women, not men, so she felt a fierce need to protect her brother and cousins from going through the pain and ridicule of bullying.

“Mama and papa are not here.” Christopher states.

“Be that as it may, you still cannot experiment in here, or anywhere but the basement, in case something blows up or the likes, and you ruin something or hurt someone or your self.” Anna gently explains.

“Oh, yes I forgot about that, Aunt Lottie asks Uncle Henry to only work in his crypt, for the same reason.” Christopher says, sitting up and setting the beakers down.

“Exactly, it’s not just you.” Anna softly says.

“Anna, do you suppose mama and papa would let me set up a laboratory in the basement?” Christopher asks in a tone full of excitement, his lavender eyes lighting up with hope.

“Perhaps, I cannot see why not.” Anna says, smiling at her little brother.

“Would you help me make into a proper laboratory?” Christopher brightly asks.

“I would love to Christopher. Did mama and papa say where they were going?” Anna asks.

“They did... but.. I cannot recall where they said they were going.” Christopher says, furrowing his eyebrows together in confusion.

“Ah, well, that’s alright, come along, let me help you clean up here, then perhaps we could do some training together?” Anna hopefully asks her brother. Christopher didn’t train very much, at least not with Anna, but they once had been the only sparring partners the other had, and Anna missed spending time with her brother.

“Alright. Anna, why do you think you are attracted to women and not men?” Christopher asks in tone full of curiously. Anna tensed immediately, she did not like discussing this topic, many people did not understand that she did not choose to be attracted to women, that it was simply how she was born. A lot of people were cruel to her about it, and told her Raziel did not love her, that she shamed Raziel, and that she was unclean and unworthy, and damned.

“There is no real reason, Christopher, this is simply how I was born, I did not choose to be this way, but I would not change if I could, liking women is a part of who I am.” Anna calmly explains.

“Do you suppose Uncle Henry and I could carry out experiments on you to find out why you like women? I know you say there is no real reason, but perhaps we could find one, and then everyone would understand you!” Christopher exclaims. Anna didn’t know whether to be touched or annoyed. She knew Christopher meant no harm at all, but it still hurt that he didn’t seem to think she was normal.

“No Christopher, you cannot, and please do not ask again.” Anna gently says.

*That evening*

“Anna, Christopher, before you leave, there is something your mother and I would like to tell you.” Gabriel calmly says, as Clara clears away the plates after a wonderful dinner.

“What is it, papa?” Anna asks, sitting back in her chair and looking at her parents questioningly.

“Have you decided to let me have a laboratory in the basement?” Christopher excitedly asks. Cecily smiles softly and says

“No cariad, we have not made a decision on that just yet.”

“Then what is it?” Christopher asks, turning from excited to confused.

Cecily smiles broadly at her children and lets out a breathy laugh.

“I’m pregnant!” Cecily exclaims, her tone full of excitement. She and Gabriel never planned on having a third child, especially now Christopher was 13 and Anna was 16, they had taken all the precautions to prevent another pregnancy, but non the less, during the last month, Cecily began to feel ill in the mornings, tire easily, and suffer from back and stomach pain. She almost immediately realized they were the same symptoms she had when carrying Anna and Christopher. She did not believe she was pregnant though, but after weeks of the same symptoms, she told Gabriel and together they went to The Silent City, where Brother Zachariah confirmed that Cecily was almost 2 months pregnant. She and Gabriel were shocked to say the least, but they were also delighted and asked to know the sex. Brother Zachariah told them they were expecting a healthy baby boy. Cecily and Gabriel sincerely hoped Anna and Christopher would be as happy as they are.

“Oh mama! This is wonderful!” Anna exclaims, leaning over to embrace her mother.

“I’m glad you’re happy my love.” Cecily softly says.

“Christopher, how do you feel?” Gabriel gently asks his son.

“Huh?” Christopher asks, turning to look at his father. Christopher had obviously been in a world of his own again and did not hear his parents announcement.

“Your mother and I are going to have a baby, how do you feel about that?” Gabriel asks in an amused tone. Some found Christopher’s lack of concentration frustrating, but Gabriel found it very amusing, and was glad his son had passion.

“Will I have to change any dirty diapers?” Christopher cautiously asks.

“No Chris, you won’t.” Gabriel says, trying to hold back a laugh.

“I think it will be nice then, babies are like puppies in a way, they are cute and dependent on us, and can be very funny, I like puppies, so I think I shall like my little brother or sister.” Christopher says, a smile playing on his thin lips.

“Well you will be getting a little brother.” Cecily softly says, running her hand down her still-flat stomach.

“Do you have any idea what you will call him?” Anna asks. She had not been expecting to hear that she was going to be a big sister again, but she was delighted, she could not wait to meet her baby brother and cuddle him and keep him safe.

“No, we’re not sure yet, but we are considering Benedict after your father’s father.” Cecily quietly says, laying her hand on top of Gabriel’s, who had gone very quiet at the mention of his late father. Although Benedict had not been a good person, he was still Gabriel’s father, the man who raised him and made him into the man he is, who he was when he fell in love with Cecily. It had never been easy remembering his father and how he died, but having a beautiful family of his own, made things a lot easier.

Over the next 9 months, things were extremely busy in the Lightwood household, Cecily and Gabriel agreed to allow Christopher to turn the basement into a proper laboratory, and they had never seen him so happy, and he was making amazing progress with some of his inventions, especially for a 13 year old. Gideon and William helped Gabriel to revamp the nursery and get it ready for the new baby, since it has not been used in about 10 years. Cecily was extremely grateful and thankful for another smooth pregnancy, she had no complications and felt well throughout the whole pregnancy. She had regular check ups from Brother Zachariah and she and Gabriel had once again hired a Clave Midwife to deliver the baby. When Cecily was 7 months pregnant, they decided to name their son Alexander William Lightwood. They had thought about naming him Alexander Benedict Lightwood, but William had done so much more for both of them and Christopher and Anna, Benedict was simply a bad person, whereas Will was under the impression he was under a curse, and pushed everyone out for their own sake, though the moment he realized the curse was not real, he began to let others in, and to help others and love others, their son deserved to be named after a strong, wonderful, loving man like William, and not a weak, selfish person like Benedict.

One day when Cecily was 9 months pregnant and having tea with Tessa, Sophie and Charlotte, she went into labor very unexpectedly, despite the fact that she was a week overdue. Her three friends stayed by her side through the whole labor, while Brother Zachariah stood quietly in the corner, witnessing the birth of little Alexander, as he had Anna and Christopher before him. Cecily’s labor was long and painful, but it was all so worth it when Alexander was placed in her arms, a head full of thick black hair, his little eyes squeezed tightly shut, his tiny mouth open in a wail, that stopped the second he came in contact with his mother. He was absolutely perfect, just like his sister and brother.

It had been a few hours now since Alexander’s birth, and Cecily had gotten a chance to wash, change, sleep and feed and bond with Alexander in those few hours. Gabriel took every opportunity he got to snuggle his beautiful new son, and pour all his love into him, being a father was his greatest joy and his daughter and sons were his greatest achievement.

Anna had been the first to meet her little brother, and she adored him, she was so calm and relaxed when she held him, Cecily and Gabriel knew she would continue to be a wonderful big sister.

Now it was time for Christopher to meet his little brother, and time for Matthew, James and Thomas to meet their cousin. Christopher and the other boys and not been here when Anna had come in to meet Alexander, they had all gone for a walk since they had been stuffed up in the Lightwood’s kitchen all day, waiting for the baby’s arrival.

“Before we go in, I think it best we set some ground rules.” Thomas firmly says, standing in front of his friends, knowing that if he didn’t keep on eye them, chaos would ensue, and that would be very unfair to Uncle Gabriel and Aunt Cecily.

“Whatever do you mean Tom? We just want to meet the baby, well I do anyway, I always wanted a little brother or sister, maybe then Charlie would not boss me around so much and I would certainly not boss my little brother or sister around!” Matthew says, his green eyes bright with joy.

“I mean we must establish what is and what is not appropriate behavior. James, I beg of you, please do not take your book in and have your nose stuck in it the entire time, it will not kill you to socialize for five minutes, especially with your own Aunt and Uncle! Christopher, if you hold your brother, please concentrate on holding him and do not drop him, and do not ask about experimenting on him. Matthew, no flirting, with anyone, not us, not Uncle Gabriel, not Aunt Cecily, not Anna, no one!” Thomas calmly yet firmly says. He did not know if Matthew was a bit like Anna and liked both men and women, but he suspected it. He did not care one bit of course, and would not say anything to anyone, but he knew what Matthew was like. Often Matthew flirted with he and James as a joke and sometimes even Christopher, who was always delighted to accept a compliment, not realizing Matthew was flirting. Matthew would flirt with anything that walked, Thomas did not doubt he would flirt with an Iron Sister or Silent Brother.

“You are no fun Tom, just like Charlie.” Matthew says in a teasing tone. Everyone else found Matthew’s elder brother boring, but Thomas admired him for working so hard and never letting anything distract him.

“Yes well, when I am in charge of you lot, sometimes I cannot be.” Thomas replies. Though his friends could be childish and hard to handle sometimes, he adored them nonetheless, they were all harmless and innocent and liked Thomas for who he was, they never made fun of him for his mother’s past or his father’s for that matter. They loved him, and he loved them.

Of course, his friends did not abide by the rules he set for them before they met little Alexander. Thankfully Christopher did not drop his brother, but sadly he did talk about experimenting on him, though Aunt Cecily and Uncle Gabriel handled it very well. James had in fact took his book in and kept his nose stuck in it for the majority of the visit. Uncle Gabriel did persuade him to hold Alexander for a few minutes, but the entire time, James read his book aloud to the baby. Matthew of course flirted with pretty much everyone in the room, but Aunt Cecily and Uncle Gabriel found it hilarious, they adored Matthew and clearly had no issues with him seeming to have a preference for both sexes.

Though the visit did not go as planned, Thomas would not change it for anything, nor would he change anything about his friends, they were perfect.

#anna lightwood #Cecily Herondale #christopher lightwood #gabriel lightwood #alexander lightwood #thomas lightwood #Matthew Fairchild #william herondale #shadowhunters #the last hours #cassandra clare

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arianaofimladris · 7 years ago

Text

Broken bonds

Kind of sequel to Ice statues (can be found here http://archiveofourown.org/works/13684911)

Nerdanel followed her family to Middle-Earth with Fingolfin’s host. Now it’s time to face her kids.

Broken bonds

He melted. Just like the fire of his spirit had consumed the body, the heat of the new light that came melted her statue. One day he was there and the next he was gone. She was alone.

The new light was bright and warm – a true blessing after the years spent in cold and darkness. It took her statue, the image of her husband made of grief and rage, but it also brought new hope and reminded her that her boys were still there, alive. She needed to see them, all of her seven sons. She had to hear what had happened, she had to confront them about their deeds. She also needed to make sure her family would not slaughter each other. She knew Nolofinwe could be reasoned with and she had grown fond of him and his children, but she was also aware there were elves among his host who would gladly draw blood for the pain and loses they had endured. And her sons would be the receiving end.

Nerdanel spent long hours on the shore, staring at the cruel road they had made through the ice. She could not go back home; none of them could.

And so the light brightened her road as she went back south to the elves she now too regarded as her family. She was soon spotted by Findekano’s scouts and escorted safely to the encampment at the northern shore of a lake that had no name to her. The settlement had been abandoned by her sons, she was told, and the plans of enlarging it were already being made. But first, certain matters had to be settled.

Nerdanel was going to request to be a part of the group meeting her sons, but she didn’t have to. Nolofinwe asked her to accompany him, knowing she would wish to see her sons, but also trusting she could soften them, should the need occur.

They met half way between the two camps. It was Makalaure and Curufinwe who came to greet Nolofinwe, and Nerdanel could see Carnistir among their Noldor. Makalaure introduced himself as king regent, but he offered no explanation for such situation.

Nerdanel remained hidden between Nolofinwe’s elves, her hood covering her face. She watched Makalaure talking with his uncle, with Curufinwe right behind him, vigilant and proud. He looked a lot like Fëanaro, but there was something clouding his features and burdening his heart; her mother’s eyes spotted it on sight. All three of her sons who had come bore the same open wound and she could not find the cause of it.

While Nolofinwe was a sensible man, he could be also impatient, and his eldest son even more. Seeing that their patience was growing thin and their tolerance to Curufinwe’s remarks was little, Nerdanel decided to step in before their negotiations evolved into an argument.

“Wait.”

She took a step forward and let the hood fall on her back. Whatever angry retort Curufinwe was about to make, he forgot it as he stared at her. Being used to her long wild locks, they were all perplexed to see her like that, she knew it from the unbelieving eyes that fell on her. Her hair, wild yet matted and unhealthy looking, barely reached her shoulders and like the rest, she was clad in whatever she still possessed; it didn’t matter on ice. All that mattered was to stay alive.

But first of all, her sons were surprised to see her here. And she was going to use it.

“Forgive me this interruption, Nolofinwe, but there is too much going on in here that I do not understand and I would like to talk to my sons in private,” she said calmly. “There are things to settle and to clarify, that’s for sure, but we are not in a hurry. Let us talk first and then, perhaps, we shall meet again in more... favourable circumstances.”

She wasn’t trying to hide her purpose and it was plain both Nolofinwe and Makalaure realised what she was doing, but they accepted her interruption.

“You speak wisely, Nerdanel. No good comes from rushed decisions, this much we have learned.”

“If you follow us, we shall speak,” added Makalaure, having decency to look uncomfortable after Nolofinwe’s remark.

“Very well.” Nerdanel left the group and went to stand beside her son. “I shall return, Nolofinwe, and we shall talk. But for now, let me speak to my sons.”

She walked between her sons’ elves and didn’t look back. She could feel them staring at her and she wished to ask all the questions that were bothering her, but she couldn’t right now. Instead, Nerdanel accepted a horse that was offered to her and rode side by side with Makalaure, engaged in small talk, as if they weren’t seeing each other for the first time in years. She could see he was tense, just like Curufinwe and Carnistir, but she could hardly ask about the reason in front of everyone.

They made their way to the settlement and through it to one of the bigger buildings. Makalaure ordered the guards to take care of the horses and they were finally left alone, just she and her boys.

“So?” Asked Nerdanel as soon as the doors closed behind them. “What’s going on? Why are you ruling in your brother’s stead? Where is Maitimo? Has he gone fighting?”

“He has.”

“And?” Dread came over Nerdanel as she watched her sons. Her Fëanaro was gone, but what of their eldest?

The three brothers shifted uncomfortably and looked at each other. She tried to reach for them, but each kept his mind closed and guarded his thoughts carefully.

“Maitimo is gone,” whispered Makalaure. He turned and grabbed her hands, dragged her closer. “He’s gone, Amme. He’s lost to the Enemy. He w...” His voice broke and he closed her in tight embrace, then composed himself a bit and continued. “He went to pact and fell into a trap. All of his men were slaughtered and he... he got captured.”

“No...”

“Please, sit. Make yourself at home.” Offered Makalaure awkwardly, leading Nerdanel to his desk. “Moryo, Curvo, could you please bring us... something?” He looked pointedly at the door.

“Of course.” The two brothers left and thick silence fell in the room. Nerdanel was staring at his son’s desk covered with scrolls and papers. None of the scribbles were poetry or music, she noticed at once. Just records, notes, scout reports...

“Where are the others?” She asked hoarsely.

“Tyelkormo and Ambarussa left for a hunt,” replied Makalaure and sat heavily on his desk, regardless to the papers. “They should be both back before dusk.”

“What...?” Nerdanel glanced up and met her son’s eyes, full of grief and remorse. Right now he seemed more burdened than those who had crossed the ice.

“Telufinwe was burned along with the ships. It was an accident. He was on the deck,” uttered Makalaure. “No one knew... Father wouldn’t have...”

“Don’t you dare to make excuses for Fëanaro” Hissed Nerdanel. “He was a damn fool and so were you all for following him.”

“Is it what they say about us?” Asked Makalaure bitterly.

“It’s what I say,” retorted she and suddenly her anger dimmed as she was yet again reminded that her foolish husband was no longer among the living. Her Fëanaro, her sons...

“I wish it was different,” whispered Makalaure and for a moment she thought he was going to break and sob in her arms like a child he once was. But Makalaure did no such thing; he straightened and the look he gave her was grim, yet determined.

“Tell me, Kano. What happened to Maitimo?”

And tell her he did, recalling those dreadful days of darkness and despair in this new land. He spoke of evil creatures and fire demons that had taken Fëanaro and Maitimo, about the conditions Moringotto had given them. He offered no excuses for their deeds and for the burned ships; the loss itself had imprinted a mark on his fëa.

They sat in silence until the other brothers returned, Curufinwe carrying a tray of food and wine and Carnistir with some fine clothes. Nerdanel looked at them and forced her raging emotions to calm; her sons didn’t need to deal with her grief as well.

“I thought it may suit you,” said Morifinwe and he offered his mother a light green dress and an outer robe embroidered richly around the collar and at the ends of the sleeves.

Out of habit, Nerdanel smiled fondly at her son, but she put the clothes aside.

“I will not take it.”

“Why?” Asked Morifinwe, perplexed.

The fabric was indeed soft and beautiful, but it would give no protection from cold and that’s how she had learned to regard her garments. Her clothes were worn and dim, repaired many times, but they had kept her alive.

“It’s useless.” Nerdanel shrugged and put the dress away. “And I shall not return to Nolofinwe dressed like a princess.”

“You are the wife of Fëanaro, you have every right to dress like a princess,” remarked Curufinwe. “I will not see you walking around in these!”

“Then leave and don’t speak until you behave like a grown-up I’ve taken you for!” Nerdanel rose on her feet and Curufinwe took a step back, surprised by her anger.

“Amme...”

”If you wish to see me clad in those fine things, do send fabrics to Nolofinwe. He will not ask for your help, this much he does share with his brother,” she let out a mirthless laugh. “But we are all in desperate need for provisions.”

“So it’s ‘we’ now?” Curufinwe arched an eyebrow, disgust visible on his features.

“I told you not to speak unless you have something sensible to say,” growled Nerdanel. “Yes, you should have heard me when I said I would return. And if you cannot stand to see me like that, then leave!”

“Curvo meant well, Amme.” Makalaure decided to step in. “We all wish the best for you. Please, would you at least have dinner with us? And wait for Tyelko and Pityo? They would be so disappointed to have missed the chance to see you.”

Her eyes must have betrayed her, she realised as she heard the offer. She was glancing at the food Curufinwe had brought, at the fresh fruit and meat neatly cut on the plate, at the wine casting red reflections on the papers. She still felt like she didn’t remember the taste of those things, though she had had some real meals at the other side of the lake.

They ate hardly exchanging some casual remarks and it was so surreal Nerdanel stopped at some point and just watched her sons. They were here, at least three of them. Two were to come and two were lost, just like Fëanaro. She tried not to dwell on that thought but she could not; not when she saw the weariness Makalaure could not hide from mother’s eyes.

“I should be going back soon,” muttered Nerdanel as the silence became awkward. She took a careful sip of wine, enjoying its taste and scent. “It is quite a distance and I don’t wish to travel at night.” She despised darkness and even with the silver light of the moon she didn’t want to walk alone.

“Please, wait for Pityo and Tyelko,” asked Carnistir, unaware that he repeated Makalaure’s earlier request. “We can escort you back and take horses, it will be much quicker and safer.”

Nerdanel looked at her sons and saw the same plea in their eyes. Either there was something they were not telling her or they simply wished to keep her a bit longer. Whatever the case was, she was willing to prolong her stay. She did wish to see all of her boys.

“Very well. But then, I must go.”

“I don’t like it, but it is a wise decision to go back,” admitted Makalaure. “We need to cooperate and we need someone willing to speak with both groups. I know it’s not why you’ve come here, but...”

“Have I not been a peacemaker before?” Nerdanel sent him a tired smile. “I will see what can be done, for I do not wish to see any conflict arise between you.”

“Thank you.”

“Moryo? Would you be able to find me some more practical clothes than these?” She asked Carnistir carefully. “I appreciate your gift, but we’ve got lots of work to do and it would soon be wasted.”

“Of course,” replied Morifinwe a bit stiffly, but he stood up and left, taking the dress with him.

“Where is your forge?” Nerdanel looked at Curufinwe still standing by the door, as if unsure whether to follow his brother or not. “Before I go, I need to repair something and we do not have resources for that.”

“Oh. Anything, Amme. Come with me.”

Nerdanel followed her son to the small workshop he had near the house. She eagerly went in and allowed herself to enjoy the scent of the forge. It was small and primitive in comparison to what she had known from Valinor, but it was definitely a forge, warm and familiar; so familiar that she caught herself waiting for Fëanaro to come, busy as he always was when he was working. But it was only Atarinke preparing fire for her and making some space on the working table.

They worked in silence, broken occasionally by her requests to pass her something as she was repairing her tools. After all, there was too much and too little to be said and none of them felt comfortable to touch the delicate maters. While she could talk to Makalaure, Curufinwe seemed much more reserved and distant than she remembered. Once he made sure she had all she needed, he returned to his own tasks.

“What are you working on?” inquired Nerdanel after a while, as she was waiting to start the next step of her repairs. She was rather perplexed to see only the simplest things around her.

“What?” Curufinwe looked at his mother as he caught her stare. “No jewels? That’s what you wanted to say? Was this the purpose of your coming here to make some repairs? To see if I am not creating some breath-taking masterpieces? I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. We don’t have such resources. And try as I may, I am not him,” he spat and tossed his tools on the table. The doors slammed behind him as he left.

Nerdanel stayed in the forge to finish her work. Whatever Curufinwe might have thought, she really just wanted to use his workshop and not spy on him, as he had apparently judged her inquiries. She was about to clean the table when someone went in.

“I was sure Curvo was just teasing me,” she heard and as she turned around, she saw her youngest son standing at the doorstep. “I’m glad he wasn’t.”

Ambarussa spoke sincerely, but he was almost like a stranger to her. He was calm and composed, but there was some awful emptiness within him. And he was alone.

Nerdanel approached him and without a single word, she just closed him in tight embrace. He let her, but the impression of distance didn’t disappear. The elf before her was changed, but somewhere there was her youngest child, who should have stayed with her instead of following his father and brothers.

“Tyelko is going to regret staying longer,” muttered Ambarussa and freed himself from her grasp. “He didn’t want to waste good weather, so we split and I returned with what we have already hunted.”

Nerdanel took her tools, now ready for further use, and followed her son outside. She could feel Ambarussa wished to talk to her, but not here, within the settlement. So as she voiced her need to return to Nolofinwe, she wasn’t really surprised he was the first to offer to accompany her.

This time Carnistir found her some trousers and shirt, along with dark green tunic and matching cloak. Nerdanel gladly changed into the new clothes and she smiled as she found a bracelet in one of the pockets. She could easily recognize Curufinwe’s work and she placed it on her wrist, willing to please him after his abrupt departure.

They all went outside to see her off. All of them, her included, were bit tensed.

“Please tell Tyelkormo I don’t intend to go anywhere,” said Nerdanel. “We shall see each other soon.”

“I hope so.” Makalaure sent her a smile, sincere, if a bit weary. “Stay safe. We will be waiting for news from you, Amme.” he placed his hand on his heart and bowed slightly.

Curufinwe brought her a horse and kept it as she mounted. He seemed grim and remained silent the whole time, but as she and Ambarussa were about to depart, he spoke suddenly.

“You should have stayed in Valinor. It’s not safe here.”

“As should have you.” Nerdanel urged her horse and left, Pityo following her closely.

If you liked it, please let me know. If there was something wrong, I missed something or wrote something incorrectly, please let me know.

I can be found here:

http://archiveofourown.org/works/13872462

#Nerdanel in Middle-Earth #my work #The Silmarillion #the silmarillion fanfic #Nerdanel #Fingolfin #Maglor #Caranthir #Curufin #Amras

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lhugbereth · 7 years ago

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Painter!Prompto - Art Block

(Another timely submission from our favorite Painter!Prompto Anon :) This was sent to me yesterday when I was having a shitty time of things, and I think it’s a really sweet way to help cheer me up. “You are not what you create” - honestly, sometimes it’s easy to forget that. Thanks for the reminder, friend :) ~Lhugy)

Art Block

(Part of the Painter!Prompto Saga)

Gladio shivered as he entered the front door. Snow wet and muddy on his boots forced him to halt on the thick mat, when all he wanted, was to rush up the stairs find his boyfriend and get warm. First boots and coat and then hunt Prompto down and beg for hugs. He doubted much begging would have to be done.

He put his phone on the charger. He noticed the untouched plate of food on the kitchen table. Gladio took two steps at a time traversing up the two staircase in little time. The wood creaking under every heavy stomp would have worried him months ago.

“Prompto!” He called out a few steps shy of the landing of the attic. His heart always raced when he hadn’t heard or seen the artist all day. A force deep inside Gladio wanting to wrap the blonde man up and keep him safe. He also knew how utterly crazy and obsessed that sounded when spoken out loud.

He’d done it once in front of Ignis. He was sure the serious man had never forgotten those words. Gladio would never forgot the look on Ignis face.

Followed by a stern quip of, “One does not cage what one loves.”

Prompto was sat on the bench pushed under the large round window. Staring out past the stain glass and beyond the city horizons and the stars in the sky. Dreams of different worlds lived and haunted Prompto.

He put a kiss on Prompto’s cheek. “I’m cold.”

“It is snowing and oh my god Gladdy your hands are ice cold!” He began scrambling away from the chilled fingers. “Not cool!”

“I’m doing it because they’re cold.” Gladio laughed.

“You know what I meant.” Prompto smacked Gladios hand from under his blue sweater. “Did you put those things in the snow bank before coming in? Did your car run out of heat?”

“I shoveled the front walks after I pulled in so a certain person won’t fall and break a bone.” He grinned and kept his hands outside of Prompto oversize sweater.

“Sorry.” Prompto scratched the side of his head. “I should have thought about that.”

“It’s fine.” Gladiolus did not mind.

“No it’s not.” Prompto motioned toward the empty Canvas with his left hand. “I’ve done nothing all day.”

“Maybe you needed the rest?” Gladio was surprised when Prompto stood up shrugging off his hug.

“No.” Prompto swung his arms out. “I mean I can’t think of anything to paint. All day. When I start it’s crap.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.” He hedged with what he figured would be a safe response.

“Gladio. I drew nothing.” Prompto’s hands balled into fists. “But I feel like I need to draw something or I’m going to go mad!”

“Art block happens.” He attempted to calm his frustrated boyfriend.

“Not to me!” Prompto patted his hands aggressively on his chest. “Today it’s been nothing, and yesterday I hated it all, and the other day.” He paused to pull out a sketch pad with a open page of pencil markings of swirls and shapes.

“Nothing!” Prompto tossed the thick book on the ground.

Gladio had seen Prompto in many phases. Happy, excited, focused, even depressed. He had seen meltdowns from bad dreams. Never a meltdown from the man having no ability to draw.

“Prom.” He wrung his hands as his thoughts moved through confusion. “It will be fine. I’m sure.”

“No. It won’t.” Prompto covered his face with his hands. “Someone else can just do what I do but better.”

“Now that isn’t true.” Gladio stood up. “Your stuff always gets picked up. People tell you how good you are at every event Ignis drags you too.”

Prompto shrugged and his hands flopped to his sides. “How many of those people really like it though? Or do they only like the idea of what I do?”

He sighed. “Prompto. You’re hungry and upset. How about we get dinner and watch a movie.”

Gladio pleaded when Prompto was looking at the paint covered floor boards. “Just. Rest.”

“And what then?” Prompto chewed in his thumbnail. “What if I still can’t paint? What if nothing comes out even when I try to force it?”

“Then we wait until you can paint again.” Gladiolus placed his hands on Prompto shoulders. “You’re more than your art.”

“No I’m not. Art made me happy. I never wanted to burn everything I made as badly as this last week. And when I started to think about it.” Prompto head whipped back and forth. “What else is there?”

“Your art doesn’t make you.” Gladio caught the blonde head and kissed the crown of it. “Your art exists because of you. The good the bad. But it doesn’t make you. Prompto even if you never painted again you’d wouldn’t be left. We wouldn’t leave you. Me or your friends.”

“You don’t get how frustrating this is.” Prompto fingers curled into Gladios dress shirt. “How dark it feels.”

“No. I don’t.” Gladio hugged Prompto tight. “But your work doesn’t make us love you.”

“You only say that because you’re my boyfriend.” Prompto muttered in a bitter tone.

“Damn it Prompto.” Gladio pushed Prompto shoulders back so he could look the man in the eye. “I said it because you are a human being and we’re not machines. You’re not a machine.”

“But it’s never been this hard before.” Promptos blue eyes searched Gladios face. “Tell me what to do.”

“I can’t.” He pressed his lips together as he shook his head.

“Then what do I do?” The man who was normally of vessel of overfilled creativity asked from a hollow and empty place.

“We wait. You live. You do something else for awhile. I don’t know.” Gladio suggested. “But never think your worth as a person has anything to do with what you create.”

“It’s all I know.” Prompto turned toward the empty canvas.

“You’re not abandoning it.” Gladio put a arm around Prompto. “Just rest. Let whatever it is blocking you pass.”

“Way easier said than done.” Prompto snorted yet there was a small curve of a smile.

“Absolutely. And you’re not alone.” Gladio kissed Prompto cheek. “I’m here and your friends. Always.”

#submitted by painter prom anon #promptio #prompto #gladio #painter au #feels #not my fic #please show this author some love #ffxv #submission

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bijuewled · 7 years ago

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Charmed: Chapter 7

A/N: Hello beautiful people! I just wanted to bring up something I forgot to mention earlier. This is a nalu-ccentric story, however I will be putting minor gruvia and gajevy in it, since I planned it like that from the beginning. All ships will be receiving love at some point, but I will always focus mainly on Nalu! The next chapters will solely be focused on Natsu and Lucy's points of view with minor other ship happenings.

Remember when I said I wasn't sure how much I'd push the rating of this story? Yeah...me too...sorry not sorry

Read all parts here

You can also read it here on ff.net

Rating: M (sexual situations)

Summary: As the days grew older, they grew closer, closer than they could’ve ever imagined. And as an innate power forces itself upon Lucy, she becomes a piece of a destiny that would be beyond her control; for the one who bears the mark of gold is charmed with the power to destroy everything..and to begin everything anew.

Chapter Seven: Machine Gun Love

Gajeel was confused. More so, he was utterly puzzled at the events that unfolded during his day that led him to where he was currently standing.

He couldn't help but grin at seeing Juvia act so boldly with her water attack on Gray earlier that morning. He got a kick out of that smug little face of hers, knowing that she had managed to push Gray's buttons a little too aggressively in the early hours of the morning. And he knew that she was loving every second of it, showing off to him in those little spandex shorts of hers, it was almost comedic.

And speaking of little…

Gajeel bit down on his tongue when he thought of those spandex shorts, though more specifically, he was thinking of how they looked on someone else...someone who he couldn't understand had taken him so long to track down.

He first went to the library, a place that he had rarely ever set foot in before this game, and even then it had been a complete waste of his time. He was immediately hit with the suffocating scents of mildew and parchment, it even made the dragon slayer's head fuzzy. It was weird to not be greeted by the little old lady who sat behind the reception desk, who's voice you could only describe as the stereotypical grandmother voice, or at least that's what Gajeel told anyone who'd asked. The woman was always incredibly kind to Gajeel whenever he was dragged into the ancient building by Levy, offering him a lemon drop from a silver bowl she kept on the desk. He'd be lying if he said he didn't take one every time he saw her, begrudgingly enjoying the tart yet sweet candy.

Though, after walking through the empty building, he made his way to the very back of the first floor, past the Young Adult Fiction section and towards the blue couch that rested in the corner of the room, Levy's favorite spot. He remembered her talking about how the sun poured through the window at the perfect temperature to warm her skin while she read or translated Ancient Fiorian text for pleasure. He picked up the weakest hint of her scent from the area, mixed with cleaning supplies and parchment, however he knew that the scent was a few days old thanks to the anti-scent perfume the girls used. He didn't expect to catch her scent anyway, though he hoped that he'd maybe find her in the place he first thought to look in. He'd be lying if he said he didn't feel any anger upon realizing that she wasn't at the library, call it a pride thing. And while this fact would have frustrated him, the folded up note he'd found on the couch angered him even more.

Nice try.

He recognized her curvy handwriting, and he gritted his teeth as he crumpled the note in his hand, though after a few seconds, he began to grin.

She was taunting him.

Now, things got even more interesting.

Next, he tried that cafe that her and Bunny Girl always went to, some cutesy place that drew designs in the foam of their lattes and sprinkled powdered sugar over everything they served. He couldn't understand why girls loved places like these, and if that weren't enough, he couldn't for the life of him understand why girls had such an affinity for coffee. The hot bean water was bitter, and it made his tongue feel strangely dry whenever his curiosity piqued and he'd steal a sip from Levy's cup. Gray drank the stuff cold, which had baffled him even further.

He wasn't surprised to find the cafe door locked, the inside dark as he peered through the glass door. He sighed as he glanced at the wrapped up umbrellas that stuck out of the middle of the tables outside the cafe. After all, the french lady who ran it was most definitely in Juniper picking apart different kinds of exotic coffee beans to bring back to her business.

But, he was surprised to hear a strange noise from the bakery a few feet down from the cafe, thanks to his superior hearing. With a mischievous grin, he abandoned his post at the cafe and quietly made his way to the front entrance. He crouched below the glass display cases, pressing his ear to the glass right under a white frosted wedding cake with blue roses. While the glass was thick, he focused in on the barrier and suddenly the sound of a fork scraping lightly against a plate filled his ears.

Gajeel frowned. He hadn't expected anyone to be having a snack at this time, especially Levy. Was she really that relaxed about this game? Relaxed enough to sit down and enjoy a piece of cake? But then that didn't seem incredibly characteristic of the bluenette, after all he knew damn well that she was more of a cheesecake person.

Gajeel's eyes widened at his train of thought, and shook his head rapidly. Focus, he thought to himself as he clenched his fists and his lips curled into a devious smile. Time to move.

With a sudden rush, he sprang to life and launched himself towards the entrance of the bakery, and threw the glass doors open in a flourish, too excited to consider the fact that he could have actually broken the glass doors and cause more trouble for the Guild. But in the moment, nothing else mattered to him, other than the victory that was sure to taste sweeter than the frosting on the wedding cake display.

"I got you!" Gajeel exclaimed in victory, as he pointed his finger towards his target. "I-"

His arm dropped as his eyes widened in shock, suddenly realizing he'd entered a lion's den.

A pair of eyes blinked up at Gajeel as sweat began to drip down his temples, his throat becoming dry as his eyes drank in the person before him. His muscles refused to move as his jaw dropped to acknowledge the horrifying mistake he'd just made.

His eyes travelled down to the plate on the yellow table before him, on top of it a piece of angel food cake frosted with buttercream and adorned with strawberries, crumbs of it splattered across the piece of china as proof of evidence that the piece of cake was currently being eaten.

He hastily swept his eyes away from the plate, and when he tried to speak, he coughed in discomfort.

The pair of eyes blinked once more, and without a single word, his enemy held out a plate towards him that was adorned with cookies, which appeared to be fresh out of the oven, to which he had no idea how they'd managed that.

Gajeel's nerves began to petrify his body even further as the plate was held out towards him, the walnuts and chocolate wafting up towards his nose and making his mouth water. Out of pure instinct, he began to reach for a cookie before he hesitated briefly.

This had to be a trap, it just had to be. There was no way that he'd be offered cookies so willingly...and with such a strange uncharacteristic calmness.

But they did look delicious…

He made eye contact with the person who extended the sweet treats to him, and with a curt nod, Gajeel decided he would act quickly.

He swiped a cookie from the plate, and with an uncertain look, began to back up from the cookie plate towards the doors. He moved slowly yet efficiently, keeping his guard up just in case his enemy decided to strike at the last minute.

But, the lion of the sugary territory only placed the plate of cookies back onto the table and picked up the silver fork that was left beside the piece of cake. Gajeel watched the fork cut into the cake slowly, to which the action only took five seconds to induce his escape as he backed out of the bakery with a frown on his face.

He'd never make that mistake again.

An hour had passed by, and he was still drawing a complete blank, silently cursing his tracking abilities. If he really wanted to, he could've blamed the perfume that shook things up for the dragon slayers on his team. That would be the easy way out, blaming a foreign liquid for the lack of progress on his end, something that he refused to do. What made this whole situation even more frustrating was that he had told Natsu that he had an idea of where Levy could be, to which he decided that if Natsu taunted him about his cockiness that morning, he'd send him flying into another oblivion with a few broken bones.

It also didn't help that he and Lily had been separated; Charle had leapt out of the shadows all too suddenly an hour prior; The two cats had managed to knock each other out of the running simultaneously. However, much to Gajeel's shock, Wendy had managed to slip away without being detected. He hadn't seen the bluenette with Charle when she had tagged Lily, but Gajeel knew that she had to have been nearby her partner. So, he spent about a half an hour trying to track down Wendy, but it was no use, since the little sprout basically molded into the air itself and vanished without a trace.

And so, it was back to silently cursing to himself as he was unable to locate the one person who the guys all decided to put on Gajeel's shoulders entirely.

"Well, obviously Gajeel is gonna go for Levy first!"

The voices of his teammates danced through his head as he stomped down the abandoned roadway the bakery he'd invaded was located. He wished that Lily was with him, more so that he could fly above the buildings for a greater vantage point like he had done earlier.

"Well, can you blame him? He's obviously got a thing for her."

He rounded a corner, kicking a rock that lay defenseless in the street, smirking as it sprung up from the ground and landed perfectly in the flower pot that was perched atop a windowsill of a gardening shop that always smelled strongly of lilacs, a scent that made his nose itch. Deciding to try his luck once more, his eyes located another stray rock that lay helplessly on the road just waiting to be kicked.

Smirking to himself, he drew his foot backwards, allowing his black boot to scrape against the pavement to prepare for his kick.

"When are you guys gonna make it official, huh?"

His leg began to falter, and his eyes widened as the tip of his boot thumped against the ground as the words toppled into his train of thought. The rock he had tried to kick skid against the ground sloppily and hit the side of the brick building.

Gajeel glared down at the rock that now lay a few feet away from him, clenching his fists as he remembered everyone's stares towards him on that day, feeling like needles were poking into his skin over and over again.

He was used to people staring at him, he could handle that with no problem. Back in Phantom, he'd been given the side-eye and terrified looks from his own guildmates and people passing by on the streets. He'd seen mothers bring their children closer to them and turn them away from him protectively, never making eye contact with him. He had to admit that back then, he rather enjoyed being feared, or rather watching their reactions. The adrenaline that pumped through his veins at the fear in their eyes was a form of pleasure for him.

But the stares he'd been receiving these days were far from pleasurable.

He knew everyone was watching him, waiting for him to make the move that the whispers and giggled all told him would come one day.

He'd glare right back at them, but this was nothing like Phantom Lord.

Back then, people would cower away from his glare, he could practically smell the fear radiating off of them. And now, he'd just receive laughter and smirks, the complete opposite of what he was used to receiving.

And it made him very uncomfortable.

But why? It was the million dollar question he'd been asking himself ever since the doe-eyed girl he'd once almost murdered started to trust him with her whole heart. He hadn't understood why she poured her trust into someone like him, someone who was once Fairy Tail's enemy, someone who so ruthlessly traced Phantom's guild mark on an innocent girl's stomach with her own blood, someone who played a part in kidnapping one of their own and beating her.

And he most certainly didn't understand how quickly he'd managed to fall in love with her.

It had just...hit him all at once one day. He realized that it didn't matter what she was doing, whether she was brushing her hair or reading a book, everything about her was just so fascinating. He was perfectly content with sitting silently next to her just soaking up her presence, or watching her brush Lily's fur. All he knew was that he had it bad.

And it hit him all at once and quick, like a machine gun.

Drip

A sudden prick broke Gajeel out of his thoughts as he halted in his tracks, a small shot of cold water splashing onto his shoulder. He frowned down at the drop that began to cascade down his arm slowly, almost tickling his skin.

His first thought went to Juvia, after all, he'd been conditioned to associate every foreign interaction that he'd had with water with the water mage. However, he quickly dismissed that idea, knowing that she had most likely gone to the river in the center of down. He also assumed that Fullbuster was right there with her, on the count of the growing attraction for Juvia that he could practically smell radiating off of him. He had decided to leave his long-time guild mate's fate in the game to Gray back when they all were cooking up a plan.

He tilted his head back and focused on a pipe that stretched across the rooftop of the building that towered over his head. His eyes traced the white pipe towards a small hole right above his head, and a another drop of water that was threatening to fall down onto his skin.

Gajeel brushed the sight off, rolling his eyes at the fact that in Magnolia, they could charge six-hundred jewel for just a dumb cup of fancy coffee, but they couldn't swing to fix some leaky pipes. Typical.

Gajeel began to make his advance forward but paused as a gust of wind tickled his skin, sending scents of pine trees and rotting leaves into his nose.

And not only that…

Gajeel's eyes widened upon recognizing the third scent. It was faint, but it was just enough to register in his senses.

Even though he wouldn't give him the satisfaction, Gajeel had to admit that Natsu had the right idea when it came to playing the game. When their meeting was over, Gajeel overheard Natsu telling Happy that he'd stolen a shirt from Lucy's apartment, a pink tank top that he'd found hanging on one of her chairs or something like that. Gajeel had thought about it for a few seconds, and realized that the Salamander had a good point. There hadn't been anything in the set of rules that Makarov gave them that prohibited them from finding loopholes or taking clothing. The shirt could be used to track Bunny Girl with an extra kick, giving him a higher sensitivity to her scent. So, it only made sense that Gajeel did the same tactic, even though the two of them weren't counting on getting nose-blocked from some stupid liquid in a fancy bottle.

His lips curled upwards into a smirk, and he took off running.

After all, he knew that scent anywhere.

"But Jet and Droy were able to tag Kinana and Laki after they were kissed!" Elfman exclaimed, raising his arms up in the air for emphasis, sweat dripping down his temples. His eyes swept back towards the entrance to his impending doom. "So one of you can man-up and go in there instead of me!"

"I told you, we can't!" Freed exclaimed with his arms adamantly crossed. "We're long past the one minute rule, and you know that!"

"What?! I never heard Master say anything about that!" Elfman exclaimed, silently cursing to himself as his plan completely backfired on him, suddenly feeling so small next to his guild mates.

The three fairies were still shaking with fear, their faces pale as the blood in their veins washed away completely.

"Now you're just making excuses." Bixslow almost yelled, grabbing onto Elfman's tanned shoulders and began to shake him. "Man up, Dude!"

"Man up! Man up!" his babies chanted threateningly as Elfman nervously glanced back towards the bakery entrance. He felt his heart rate pick up a few extra beats as he began to experience tunnel vision, something that he'd only ever heard about from others. He couldn't understand why his friends were pushing him past his limits. They all knew what awaited them inside of the bakery, and yet they still decided to push Elfman into a decision that could quite possibly ruin his life.

He felt his manhood slipping quickly away from him as he felt his guild mates' eyes watch him intently, and he absolutely hated how powerless he currently felt. He'd taken on far more dangerous jobs in his lifetime; bandits without batting an eye, murderers without breaking a sweat; hell, he even lived after experiencing Acnologia's fury on Tenrou island.

But this? This was something else entirely above him.

He felt Freed's shaking hand on his back, patting him encouragingly.

"If you hurry, maybe you can get to her before she eats her fourth piece of cake." he said nervously. "It always goes downhill after piece number four."

Elfman gulped as a violent image flashed in his head, causing him to close his eyes and shake it off violently. He inhaled slowly, and exhaled all in a rush as he gave his two teammates the side-eye, both of them nodding encouragingly at him, though the two of them were terrified for him.

He glanced towards the entrance of the bakery, and after saying a silent prayer, he made his way inside.

Levy knew she was screwed the minute that water droplet hit her shoulder.

She had been doing so well in this game, so well at not being caught within the first few hours of the start of this whole charade that she had mistakenly allowed herself to get cocky. Bad idea.

She had been nearby when Juvia had launched her first surprise attack at Gray, though she left as soon as she heard Natsu's thundering laughter. She'd have to thank the dragon slayer later on for covering up the sound of her footsteps as she darted away from the area to the first place she could think of.

The library had been quiet and peaceful, the strong scents of mildew from the pages of the older books extra prominent that morning, though it was strange not to smell the lemon scented wood polish that they used every morning before they opened their doors, though Levy knew that it was because the staff decided to abandon parchment for organic peppers that increased in heat the more they were chewed. They never really locked the doors to the library, only locking the books into the shelves with a sliding glass device that made the books even more appealing, according to Levy anyway.

Thanks to her confidence, she decided to have some fun with her pursuers, or rather the one pursuer who she knew would come after her. Scribbling down a note, she left it on her favorite blueberry colored couch and trotted out the back door, almost feeling like a child with her giddiness.

She went more into town next, sliding into the shadows of the buildings and practically gluing herself to the walls to avoid being seen. She had almost slipped up when she heard footsteps coming her way, flinching when she saw Loke stroll by with Romeo in tow. She'd immediately covered her nose and mouth to muffle the sounds of her breathing, and slowly exhaled a sigh of relief when the two boys were out of sight.

All had been going too well after that point. The sky was just showing signs of bleeding into the orange hues of sunset and she hadn't ran into anyone from the boy's team. The only people she'd seen from her own team was Evergreen as she was walking alone and out in the open, to which Levy could assume that she'd been tagged. The two made eye contact briefly, and Evergreen only shot a small wink in her direction as she continued to make her way towards the Guild.

Levy stretched her arms over her head as she walked leisurely down the road as the sky continued to darken, her spirits high as she convinced herself that nothing could stop her.

That is, until she felt that damned drop of water hit her.

She'd immediately froze in her spot, her eyes widening as they slowly landed on the bead of water balancing atop her porcelain shoulder. She felt her heartbeat pound out of her chest in a panicked rhythm as her mouth went dry, and before she'd realized what she was doing, her feet sprinted her forwards as she booked it out of the open.

Damn it! She'd cursed herself as she rounded a corner, breathing heavily. Why hadn't she been paying extra attention to her surroundings? This was totally karma for her cocky behaviour throughout the day, and who could blame the world for teaching her a lesson? Even the smallest misstep could lead her down the path of failure, or in her case, the washing off of her anti-scented perfume.

All she knew was that she had to get away from her current spot, and fast.

The heavy scents of chocolate and fruit invaded Elfman's nose as he stepped into the bakery, his palms sweating to an obscene degree. He'd entered the lion's den, a room of impending danger and doom, and he didn't know what to think or say as his eyes immediately landed on the lioness herself, who was currently munching on a chocolate chip cookie.

Be a man, be a man!

Her eyes glazed over his body slowly, watching him with slight fascination as he bit down on his bottom lip anxiously, even though she seemed to be more interested in the glaze melting on top of the donut that sat prominently on her plate next to a slice of cheesecake topped with cherries.

His eyes fell to the stack of plates on the table, and he began to panic even more.

She had just finished her fourth piece of cake.

She sighed then, cutting into Elfman's panicked breaths as she silently put her plate down on the table. She directed her attention to the cheesecake on her plate, and in a flash, plucked a cherry off of the cake by the thin stem and placed the fruit in her mouth, her lips curling around the plump base of the cherry as she separated it from its stem with her teeth. He watched her chew slowly and thoughtfully, before she swallowed and a playful smile curled onto her lips.

"I assume you're not here for cake?"

They'd been staring each other down for far too long, and it irritated Gajeel to his very core.

She was sitting with her legs crossed and arms folded, glaring down at him with those mocking doe eyes as she pouted down at him.

They'd reached a sickening form of a stalemate, or rather, that's the best that Gajeel could describe the situation that he'd found himself in.

It had been a cinch to track her after catching her scent, after all, dashing away and running around in a panicked frenzy certainly didn't help mask one's scent. If anything, it became more potent to him as he rounded corners and passed through alleys following Levy's growing scent.

Though when he'd found her, he didn't count on her scurrying up a giant lamp post like some kind of squirrel, her plan to avoid him undoubtedly half-assed and a spur of the moment.

However, for such an act as this, she held a ton of dignity on her end.

"So, you're not coming down?" he asked her, his voice dry.

"Nope." she shook her head, closing her eyes and tapping her foot in the air to a silent beat.

The kid was stubborn, he'd give her that much anyway.

Gajeel turned to glare at the dark orange sky, frustration building in his body as he began to realize that he was running out of time, and that he had to act very soon. He knew that from the moment he saw her of course, though for some un-godly reason his body hadn't wanted him to succeed in finishing his task right away.

"Are you sure?" he tried once more, surprising himself in his choice of words. He realized how uncharacteristic his voice sounded with his question, even going as far to raise an octave and lose his gruff demeanour. Instead of sounding threatening, he ended up sounding like a dumb student questioning his teacher about whether two plus two equals four. If he were being honest, he hadn't expected Shorty to be so stubborn. Well, at least to some extent he did, after all this was the girl who refused to sleep one night just because he'd been hit with an extreme fever from some damned spider that bit him on a job. Out of all things for Gajeel to find his downfall in, it just had to be something stupid like a little bug. Natsu had been with him on the job, and he'd even been bitten himself, but he figured that his body heat had burned away the venom like it had been nothing. Lucky bastard.

Levy had spent the entire night at Gajeel's side, adorning his forehead with a cold cloth every five minutes and monitoring his temperature. He'd told her about a thousand times to go home and get in bed, but each time she'd just roll her eyes and continued checking his temperature.

She sure was stubborn alright, even going as far to chug five cans of a fizzy energy drink that was some sickly yellow color and fizzed.

So no, he wasn't surprised that his stubborn partner refused to give him the satisfaction that he had cornered her. Then again, he hadn't expected to corner her like this.

She glared down at him. "Positive." she stated, the wind blowing her hair over her shoulders.

Gajeel scowled, the awkwardness of his voice melting away and roughing itself back into having as much softness as sandpaper. "You do realize that I could come up there." he threatened, pressing his palm onto the black surface of the post, his fingernails scratching against the black softly.

She blinked down at him, frowning as her scowl softened. He knew that she was all too aware of that possibility, and if she weren't, she was utterly stupid. It began to show all on her face, that this possibility could quickly turn into reality.

He enjoyed watching her stubbornness turn into uncertainty. It gave him an excited thrill.

"Th-Then why haven't you done it already?"

This surprised him as she clutched onto the edge of her shirt with her left hand, the other steadying her body into a controlled balance on top of the post. "You're running out of time, you know."

She flashed him a confident smile, and before Gajeel realized what he was doing, he gripped the pole tightly and launched himself upwards, the air rushing around him as he got closer and closer to his target.

Her doe eyes widened in fear once more, but as opposed to cowering in fear or trying to leap off of the lamp post, Gajeel watched in horror as her legs uncrossed themselves and began to swish around in the air at a frantic pace, almost as if she were listening to some upbeat music. But then, it was his turn for his own eyes to widen as the word Acid came splashing down from the script she'd created, and he immediately launched himself away from it by pushing off against the post.

A sickly smell wafted up to his nose from his shirt, as some of the acid had dripped onto him before he could properly get away.

"I'm sorry!" he heard Levy squeak as he watched her learn forward with concern, her hand abandoning her shirt to cup her mouth.

"What the hell, Levy?!" Gajeel exclaimed. "Ya tryin' to kill me?!"

"I panicked, okay?!" she exclaimed, her eyes filled with worry. "You can't just jump on me like that!"

"Well the last time I jumped on ya, you sure as hell didn't pull a stunt like that!"

Gajeel's eyes widened as he realized what had just came out of his mouth, his entire head feeling as though it were going to explode from the fire burning in his cheeks. He felt his throat crackle dry as Levy's panicking waves to him froze. He watched as her own face lit up into a bright red that put his to shame, her lips hung open and twitching uncontrollably.

Crap. He just had to go and open his damn mouth and spew out some crap like that. For all he knew, he was just as bad at Natsu for being so obvious with Lucy, though he thanked his lucky stars that nobody was around to hear what he'd just said.

And nobody was around to see his flushed face increase when he realized that the last time he had..er..jumped onto Levy, he'd received a much more pleasant reaction from her.

He began to feel the acid tickle the tops of his shoulders painfully, but he barely felt anything.

"S-Sorry" he mumbled uncharacteristically, looking off to the dying sun. "I'm spendin' too much time with Natsu-"

"You didn't jump on me."

Her words surprised him, and as he turned his attention away from the sunset to face her, he was met with a mocking glare from the bluenette. She gripped the sides of the glass she sat on, and glued her legs together as she leaned forward from atop her tower of safety.

Gajeel frowned. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You didn't jump on me." she repeated, leaning back to a proper sitting position as she crossed her arms. Gajeel could still see a hint of blush dusted on her cheeks, and his own remained prominent after picking up on what she was hinting at.

"I-It was more...gentle than that."

Oh Mavis, what had she gotten herself into this time?

She watched as Gajeel's face glowed a bright red, a completely uncharacteristic attribute to give the Iron Dragon Slayer, hell, she was even surprised seeing this reaction from him. It also didn't help that the orange sky deeply accentuated his flushed face, hers as well.

But even so, watching him grow uncomfortable over the sudden slip gave her an excited rush. What had once felt like embarrassment now felt like empowerment. She glanced at the sunset quickly, realizing that she still had time to turn things around despite her sticky situation she'd found herself in by basically cornering herself. She was in a bad enough situation as it is.

Not to mention the sudden burst of heat between her legs. That was another issue.

But maybe she could have some fun with him.

"Ain't nothing gentle about me." he muttered suddenly, pouting towards the ground. "I ain't that soft."

You got that right A snarky voice sang in Levy's head, which only made the heat intensify to an uncomfortable level. She gulped softly, inhaling oxygen to soothe the aching burn.

She'd have to apologize to Lucy soon for all of the teasing she'd done on her for the past few weeks. After all, nobody likes a hypocrite.

"Are you sure about that?" she asked him, putting her plan into action as she squeezed her legs together and placed her elbows on her knees, resting her chin in her hands as she smirked down at him. "I beg to differ."

Gajeel gritted his teeth, clenching his fists as he looked about ready to pounce. "Oh, you do, do ya?" He looked at her as if she were crazy, also with a small ounce of anger and...she couldn't describe the other feeling she was getting from him. She watched as his eyes traced her legs, looking as though he were about to melt like butter on hot toast. The corners of her mouth ran dry as she watched the blush on his cheeks grow, an action that she had always secretly loved about him. It was like a treasure to her, since the closest thing to blushing anyone had ever seen on his skin was when he was blowing up at Natsu for stealing his breakfast. She had been the only one to ever really see a soft side to the gunmetal mage.

And once she saw it, she couldn't stop searching for it. It was like a drug to her, a way to satisfy her craving to reach her maximum aptitude for satisfaction without any sort of physical compensation.

Levy's legs squeezed tighter together, turning her already pale thighs white as sheets. It also had some immediate effects on her that she really wished weren't so effective. She released a shaky breath, and as Gajeel looked up at her once more to let out a complaint, he placed his arm upon the post and his fingers dug themselves into the metal. His eyes met hers and his tongue slipped out from his pale lips and slowly traced them, his silver tongue ring shining up at her.

Now that was an issue.

She couldn't stop a small distressed grunt from escaping her mouth, the heat between her legs rising in tantalizing temperature..

"Take it back."

She blinked down at him through her hazy mind. "Wha-"

"I ain't soft." he repeated, his fingers digging deeper into the metal as if it were mere dough. Levy watched him digest the word soft like a bad piece of fruit, the discomfort on his face growing with every second. She couldn't take her eyes off of his face, her eyes tracing his jawline slowly back up to his lips. "Take it back."

She ignored the shivers going down her spine and glared back at her partner. "Or what? You'll pick the cherries off of my ice cream sundaes that you're too proud to admit that you enjoy?" she shot down at him, her eyes glancing up at the sky and grinned in satisfaction as the sky told her their time was almost up. "Snatch my books out of my hands while I'm reading them? Steal my morning coffee?"

The pole beneath her jerked forward, causing Levy to release a surprised shriek as she uncrossed her arms and grabbed onto the pole next to her hips, her legs flinging forward like a rag doll's and her heart stopping in her chest. The backs of her ankles bumped back onto the lamp post and she looked down to the ground shocked, her heart pounding in surprise.

Perhaps she'd gone a little too far with the provoking..

"Time to come down." Gajeel said threateningly, Levy catching the slight smirk on his face as he said this. Typical, always trying to make himself the most fearsome even though Levy knew all too well how much of a teddy bear her partner was.

He gave the pole another shove, this time having more success as it took away Levy's balance and pushed her off of her perch, causing her to wrap her arms and legs around the cold metal tightly. She pressed her right cheek into the metal and glared down at Gajeel who had satisfaction practically radiating from his body. She had a sour taste in her mouth as she watched his fingers dig themselves deeper into the metal, as if to convey that this would be the final strike.

Her fingernails pressed against the surface of the metal.

"I'll be takin' that coffee of yours." he told her with confidence brimming from his voice. She gritted her teeth as she watched the proud look on his dumb face, but the sour taste in her mouth soon disappeared as she flashed him a mischievous smile.

His cocky grin dropped from his face slowly.

Hell would freeze over before she let herself go down without one final fight.

"But my Dear," she said sweetly, steading herself on the pole and bringing her thighs up closer to her chest, relishing in the fact that his eyes locked on her thighs just as they brushed against the post deliciously slow. She brought her hand to her hip and un-tied the flag attached to her hip "We haven't had dessert yet."

He could barely register what had happened until everything around him had gone black.

It was like watching a spectacle of seduction, a trap that he'd walked into more often than not.

His eyes had widened when he watched Levy release her hold of the post and bend backwards, her fingers flying and eyes blazing with determination.

The word Mist flew directly into his face, causing him to let go of the post and rub the water out of his eyes, cursing softly.

"Shorty!" he exclaimed, opening his eyes once more. "What are ya-"

He let out a grunt of surprise as the world around him went black, pressure being applied to the bridge of his nose and temples as he felt a pair of legs wrap themselves around his neck. He felt weight shift on his shoulders, and didn't stop the quick peck he'd received on his cheek, or rather, the corner of his mouth.

Light laughter filled his ears as his hair was ruffled roughly atop his head.

Goosebumps raced up the back of his neck.

"I win."

She smiled triumphantly down at her handiwork, the loose knot in the makeshift blindfold she'd created looped around her fingers as she settled herself comfortably on his shoulders, ravishing in the satisfaction of her endeavors.

The sunset was no more, darkness in the hue of a light violet draping their bodies as crickets began their usual song of the night. She immersed herself in it, sighing with relief at the cool air that brushed against her cheeks.

"Satisfied?"

His voice broke her out of her reverie, having a sort of strange tone that she couldn't place. She huffed softly down at him, about to answer him in a cocky tone when she began to feel a strange heat invade her inner thighs. Frowning, she looked down at the mess of black hair beneath her to see that same familiar blush that could only belong to someone like gajeel, pink blushed against his tan skin. She frowned before she really looked down at the situation she was in, her bare thighs on either side of his head, his breath lightly tickling her skin as he looked to his side.

She swallowed back a gulp as she felt his hand grab onto her ankle slowly, lingering there before his hand travelled up her smooth leg and up to her thigh on his shoulder, fingers dancing over her skin as he got closer to his own ear, and advancing closer to…

That uncomfortable heat slowly began to return between her legs, making her hands shake softly as her doe eyes widened immensely as his hand continued its journey upwards...

"B-Barely" she stammered, falling into a lustful trance as she felt her body move on its own, out of pure instinctual habit. Her thighs trembled as she felt her hips begin to rock ever-so-slowly on his shoulders, relishing in the heat from his bare shoulders meeting with the heat from her...arousal.

Her blood began to boil violently as her breathing intensified as she slowly arched her neck back and released a shaky breath into the air, her hair falling in waves down her shoulders, toes curling.

Oh Mavis…

"Then let's fix that, shall we?"

In a split second, she was lifted off of his shoulders and left the lamp post pressing against her back. She let her body do the thinking for her, wrapping her legs around his sturdy hips and tangling her fingers in his hair.

His lips crushed down on hers hungrily, claiming them as his own as his left hand cupped her cheek and supported the back of her head, his other hand squeezing her butt. She threw her head back as his lips left hers and went onto her neck, sucking on her skin hard giving her excited chills. She felt his body push on her torso, pressing her against the pole so she wouldn't fall away from him. She heard a high pitched moan escape her glossed lips as his hand left her ass and found its way into her spandex shorts and past her underwear, kneading her very core with the utmost urgency. Her voice cracked with every stroke of his fingers, pleasure escaping the small mage with hurried breaths as her eyes were squeezed shut. She rolled her body with his hand, catching onto his rhythm as her pale hips rocked against his hand.

Oh, she definitely needed to apologize to Lucy. She was the biggest hypocrite of the guild, and quite frankly, she didn't care at the moment. She had more pressing matters to attend to.

Breathing heavily, she cracked her eyes open and unhooked her shaking fingers of her hands from his hair and grabbed the sides of his head. She leaned forward to raise his head from her neck to lock lips with him once more, smiling against his lips as her right hand slipped past his belt.

"I-" she whispered shakily as she found her target, slowly wrapping her fingers around the stiffness that had been trying to make its way out of his pants. "-think they won't mind if we're a little late."

He hissed with pleasure in her ear, which sent chills down her spine.

The blank red flag lay on the ground a few feet away, abandoned and forgotten for more important matters.

"Screw 'em."

#gajevy #fairy tail #levy mcgarden #gajeel redfox #charmed #nalu #nalu fic #KatieWrites

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chocobostrinket · 7 years ago

Note

May I ask for short scenarios regarding the chocobros and their selectively mute s/o? Like how did their first date went and after how many dates did their s/o finally decide to talk to them? And the chocobros' reactions to hearing their s/o's voice?

Noctis:

Them being selectively mute was a bit hard to work around at first. Noctis, though he was more observant than he let on, had a hard time reading their facial expressions. Just because of how controlled they were. When you’re mute, a lot of your communication rests on your face, especially for those that signed like them.

So, in order to get to know them more, he asked them to tutor him as he learned sign since he needed an extra language course to graduate. And of course, learning along side them, and being a part of their silent world, his feelings naturally progressed to a crush. When he could eventually hold a conversation in sign, proving he could understand them, he asks them out on a date.

Like most first dates though, it was less than glamorous.

It started raining and neither had an umbrella, so both looked like they had taken a swim on the way over to the diner they had chosen. A few rouge photographers from some of the trashier tabloids around insomnia had gotten a tip on their date, and were basically harassing them for ‘the scoop’. And then the waitress was bumped into when passing their table and ended up dumping a plate of rice on his date’s head.

Not the best start, but it was then that he realized that they had a voice. Because they had started laughing, high and clear. They ended up not kissing on the first date, because they don’t count it. It was too much of a disaster to count as a date they argued. (But Noctis totally counts it.)

They continue dating, of course, and make it a game to see if they can keep dodging the tabloids after that first fiasco. And it’s not until six months of dating that he hears their voice outside of laughing.

They had been spending the night, and Noctis hadn’t told them that it was the anniversary of the Marilith attack. So when he started muttering in his sleep and moving a lot, they naturally woke up. A nightmare they assumed, because he kept making pained expressions. They tried to wake him by stroking his hair, and when that didn’t work, shaking his shoulder. And when that didn’t work, without meaning to or thinking about it really, they called his name.

“Noctis.”

A secret not even Ignis knew was that Noctis woke up when his name was called. Not his highness, not Noct, but Noctis. So imagine his surprise when he woke up after hearing his name, but the only person in the room was his S/O. Normally he’d ignore his name anyways and try to go back to sleep. But his curiosity would wake him fully and he’d sit up in confusion. He wouldn’t realize it was them until he hears their quiet voice in the dark.

“Noctis? You were dreaming.”

He’d be speechless, which was a switch considering the past six month were of him talking. But then he’d snap out of it and bundle them into his arms before laying back down.

“Thank you for waking me.”

He wouldn’t make a big deal about it, but there would be a slight trembling in his arms. From love and appreciation that they had trusted him enough to finally let him hear their voice, and that they had been brave enough as well.

Prompto:

“Wow they’re a really good listener!” was his first thought when he ended up working with them on a photo shoot for his part-time. They were the lighting person. But then it would edge from being a good listener, to being unusually silent.

They’d be walking and he’d be in the middle of his sentence when he’d suddenly pause, look at them, and say, “You don’t talk, do you.”

They’d shrug and smile. Prompto would accept it, and just keep talking, but let them know, “If I talk too much, just feel free to like, put a hand over my mouth or something.” (They’ve only had to do this once.)

It would be a bumpy start to a friendship. With one party unable to speak, communication was tricky. And they didn’t want to do the pen and paper thing. So Prompto gets really good at reading facial expressions really fast. And it’s almost as good as talking. They still have the occasional hiccup, but it works.

The day Prompto asks them out, he’s rambling about a photo he took. “So I used this filter, and the lighting was perfect anyways, even without your help, and will you go on a date with me? And then I staged the camera like this-”

They put and hand over his mouth, and ended up laughing quietly. His face turned pink and they nodded, pointing to him and themself.

“You will?”

They’d smile. And Prompto would be ecstatic. He’d walk them home and then go skipping away practically to prepare for tomorrow. …But then he’d have to run back to their house to tell them when and where because he’d realize he forgot to tell them.

The first date wouldn’t be anything too big. It would be mostly walking around in the downtown area of Insomnia, hitting up a food cart, and making fun of some of the advertisements they see. Nothing goes very wrong, though there was a scare when a few drunkards decided to mess with someone who’s clearly an immigrant. But to that, they only glanced at each other, threw their drinks in their faces and ran, holding hands and laughing.

Most dates were quieter after that, and he’d even bring them along to meet his friends during a few times they were hanging out. It’s after one of these times, when he’s walking them home and about to leave, that they grab his hand and quietly say, “Stay.”

Beaming brightly and sweeping them off their feet he replies, “Of course.”

For the first time in almost a year, he’s heard their voice.

Gladiolus:

Now he’s done it. He was on a run and crashed right into someone when going around the corner to his home. Their bag popped open and papers went flying everywhere. Not to mention that they had banged their head pretty hard off the ground. He’d get them up in a hurry, ignoring his own scrapes and bruises, and ask if they were alright.

They’d wave a hand at him in a general expression of being fine. But then he’d sort of get worried about them not speaking. And things would go south very quickly. Because Gladiolus would panic, thinking he’d really really hurt them. Because they weren’t SPEAKING HELP.

But at the moment his father would happen around the corner after a walk. Upon seeing the panic and general chaos of the papers fluttering around, he’d want to turn back around and just go the way he came. Take the long way home. But then he’d see who it was and realize that he’d have to step in.

Gladio, meanwhile, would still be panicking about them not speaking. Thankfully Clarus steps in and says, “Good to see you’ve met one of the new Interns.”

He’d then explain that they don’t speak, that yes they were fine, but probably invite them back home for an ice pack at least. And wouldn’t take no for an answer.

After that initial meeting, Gladio would find them during work the next day, apologize again, and ask if they wanted to get lunch as an apology. (And what intern would say no to free food?) From there, they sort of figure out a way to communicate. They just message him on their tablet and he’ll just respond verbally. Which opens the doors for text jokes. (It’s very endearing to Gladio that when they send an emoji expression, it’s often the very same expression they’re making right across the table from him.) It becomes habit to meet for lunch, and sometimes dinner. Without even realizing it, they end up dating.

This is only pointed out when they run across Gladio’s friends who tease him for not telling them he was on a date. They look at each other, shrug, and he throws an arm around their shoulder and says, “Well, we are so…if you’ll excuse us.”

“But we want to meet them!” “Another time maybe!”

It’s only after their anniversary passes that he gets to hear their voice. Unfortunately, it’s because he ran into them again when they were coming over to dinner at his place with Iris. And the papers went everywhere. They hit their head again, he ended up with scrapes and bruises.

“Damn it Gladio.” It’s said so quiet, if there had been a passing car he wouldn’t have heard it. But he did.

Not the most romantic thing to hear, but Gladio laughs and scoops them off the ground. He doesn’t draw attention to it, worried that they didn’t know they had said something. And if they did mean to say something, he wouldn’t want to scare away any progress they’ve made to become vocal. He lets them go and sets about collecting their papers.

(Clarus walks around the corner again, and this time just turns on heel and goes the opposite way. Not dealing with this again.)

Ignis:

He’s heard them speak before they started dating. They had a habit of muttering to themselves while they worked.

They were considered a valuable member of the royal house hold. They had been a child when they received their title. Like Ignis, they grew up with their role. They were to be Noctis’ Chancellor. A secretary basically. But there was no need for them to be around Noctis just yet, not until Noctis was on the throne. But Ignis worked closely with them. There was a lot of paper work involved with Noctis surprisingly. He just didn’t know it because that was their job.

Though Ignis had to be there for a portion of it. Which is how he’d heard them. He’d be walking by the door and catch some of their thoughts they spoke out loud before knocking. (He knew their reputation of never speaking, and so didn’t bring it up.) And he wouldn’t let on that he heard them.

There were many times that they ended up eating together, lunch, dinner, overnight snacks, breakfast. Just depended on how much trouble Noctis had gotten into that week. Ignis, having worked with them for so long, knew sign and enjoyed their silent conversations together. It also helped at certain events Noctis was at, and they were more than willing to help Ignis hide or prevent the prince’s mistakes if it meant less paperwork. Eventually, they would be comfortable enough to mutter to themselves with him in the room.

He invites them to an actual dinner outside the citadel soon enough and they accept. From there, they’re really low key about it, if only to avoid becoming the citadel’s latest gossip. It goes on for about a year like this before they’re at an event. There’s a really pushy noble trying to ask out Ignis, and he’s declining as politely as he can. And considering he’s cornered with a lot of other nobles in the conversation, he can’t just walk away without appearing rude.

That’s when they step in and link their arm with his, smile and state quietly, softly, “He’s mine.”

They’d then pull him away while they’re in shock. Ignis would be red in the face, but only because he hadn’t expected the first thing they said in public, since they were a child even, to be that he was theirs. It would make him a bit more happy than it should. They’d sign to him that it’ll be all over the citadel tomorrow, but they’d deal with it then. He’d agree, and leave it at that for once.

#insomniacapples #ask #answer #ignis #gladiolus #prompto #noctis #ffxv #ffxv scenarios #scenarios #whoops a bit longer than expected #and a whole lot later than sent.#Sorry for the delay.#I didn't know what I was doing with Ignis' whoops.

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 8 years ago

Text

Ask Again

Request: Uh, open requests! Maybe a DeanxReader, where Bobby, the readers father died because of Dean , and the reader just can't forgive dean and she doesn't trust him anymore, but it ends with Dean winning her back? Just some Fluff and angst, maybe?

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 2,800ish

Warnings: language

A/N: Gah, I remember when I didn’t do any angst. How times have changed...

“Get out of my house, Dean,” you said, gripping the edge of your kitchen counter. He didn’t move and you looked up slowly, trying to keep yourself calm when you wanted to explode on him. “Now.”

“Y/N, Bobby was helping-”

“Bobby was always helping you poor Winchesters! Always you two got special treatment over everyone else, everyone,” you said, snapping your head up. “He was my dad, not yours.”

“Y/N I’m sorry. He was the closest thing Sammy and I-”

“He was mine dammit! I had a shitty childhood too Dean. The normal stuff always got screwed up because of you damn Winchesters. Hell, he missed my graduation because you called him for a stupid salt and burn. Why couldn’t you handle that yourself!” you said, saying things you didn’t care about, things that didn’t even matter anymore. You’d forgiven your dad for the things he missed or forgot long ago. Dean Winchester though...he’d been trouble the second he stepped into your house and stole your freaking juice box out of your hands.

“Y/N-”

“Go away Dean, please. Don’t come back. Please just stay away from me,” you said. Maybe you saw something breaking in him in that moment, something a kind word could stop but he broke you first. That’s all the Winchester’s and Singer’s were when it came down to it. Two broken families with barely anyone left.

He was quiet as he left your tiny house in Maine, far away from your childhood home, the one that didn’t exist anymore, far away from Kansas, the stomping ground of that stupid boy.

If you had it your way, you’d never have anything to do with him for the rest of your life.

Your face was a little scuffed up but otherwise you were okay. Freaking people needed to learn how to drive and not freaking run into pedestrians. You probably should have gone to the hospital to make sure you were alright but you couldn’t stand to be in one of those again.

You were walking up your long road home, starting to limp a little, your ankle throbbing. This was why you stayed inside and didn’t go for walks. But Dean had pissed you off and you needed fresh air to clear your head and everything.

Now you were banged up and you couldn’t even blame him for that, no matter how much you wanted to. You groaned as you caught sight of your house and the car parked in the drive. Dean was sitting on your front porch, resting his head back against the door.

“I told you-”

“Shit, you get in a fight?” he asked, popping up. You shrugged him off and groaned again. “Y/N.”

“I don’t want you here,” you said, unlocking your door and slipping inside, but not fast enough. Dean caught the door and moved it to the side so he could get in. You waved him off but didn’t bother arguing, you didn’t have the energy.

“Sit on the counter,” said Dean, walking over and patting it. You rolled your eyes and went to your cabinet, pulling out the first aid kit. One of Dean’s arms wrapped around you and lifted you up, placing you on the cold counter despite your huffing.

“Dean, I want-”

“You know the rules. When one of us is hurt, the other one takes care of them, no matter if we’re pissed at each other or not,” he said. You shoved him on the shoulder and he swatted your hand away, digging through until he found some alcohol and a cotton ball. You tried to get him to move away again but Dean stepped forward, pushing his body up against your legs, pinning them to the lower cabinets.

“Dean, I can-”

“Oh behave for two fucking seconds, Y/N,” said Dean, turning your cheek and gently dabbing your cut. You hissed and then winced, catching the angry glare of Dean’s eyes. You shut your own, deciding it was better to let him clean you up than lose in a fist fight to him.

He turned over your palms and dabbed there as well, cuts you hadn’t noticed before appearing now. When Dean finished cleaning, he took a roll of bandages and wrapped up one hand then the other, placing them to rest in your lap. He gave you a warning stare before slipping down to his knees, kicking off your boots and looking at your one ankle. He hummed and reached for another bandage, wrapping it tight, soothing some of the ache there. He stood for a second and went over to your fridge, hand diving into the freezer and pulling out two ice packs.

He sat them on the counter and then turned his attention on you. He was pissed off. Dean Winchester shouting and yelling was one thing, you’d always been able to handle that. Silent Dean, the one for when he was furious...it made you go quiet on the off chance Dean decided to snap at you too.

He picked you up and sat you down on your couch just a few steps over in the living room. He stretched out your leg and was back a second later, putting one of the packs over your ankle. You held out your hand, expecting him to hand you the one for your face but he simply scooted you so he could sit down behind you, your back pressed up against his side. His hand holding the pack reached around your front, lightly pressing it against your cheek.

Oh no. Oh no no no. This was the somebody needs to cry position. Dean had his arm holding you safely, letting you lean back and rest against him. Shit, you didn’t want to cry. You hadn’t cried in front of Dean in years, not since you were teenagers. You couldn’t, not with how it’d ended the last time.

“Why’d you only ask the once?” asked Dean, pulling your thoughts away from your father and back on the man right next to you. “You were sixteen. You said you’d ask again when you were older but you never did.”

“Because I’m that silly three year old girl in your eyes. I always will be,” you said. God that day, that day was one of the worst of your life and it was all because he said no to a date to the movies with you.

“Am I the silly five year old to you still?” he asked. You shifted your head, looking down. As much as the arm there was to comfort, it was also to make sure this long overdue conversation finally happened. Looking down at that arm though you noticed the tiny tremble in it. Dean was scared or upset or both. He hadn’t meant for you to be the one to cry.

He needed to.

“Dean,” you said, trying to move to face him but the arm holding you still. You relaxed, you wouldn’t make him look at you, not after all the things you said to him. “Yes you’re still that boy. You’re the boy who taught me to ride a bike, the boy who taught me to throw a punch, who told me to stand up for myself, who ate ice cream with me after my first date was awful. But you’re so much more than just that little kid Dean.”

“I knew I was in the life and you were talking about college. I wanted you to make your choices on your own. When you came back to hunting, I hoped you’d ask again. I waited for you to ask. I should have just done it because I knew you weren’t going to. You always looked at me a little differently after that. My best friend wasn’t going to let me in, not all the way, never again,” said Dean. “Earlier, you looked at me like that again but it was worse. Don’t push me away for good. I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t throw me away like I never meant anything.”

Dean was sniffling, his voice a little hoarser, your hand running up and down his arm. You knew he barely had anything left inside and you broke that apart by telling him to stay away. You’d spend a long time telling him Bobby wasn’t his fault, that he was Dean’s family too. You’d try to heal and fix and prove to Dean you couldn’t throw him away ever. But that could wait just a little longer.

You twisted under his arm, pushing Dean down so his back hit the couch, blinking up at you with the most uncertain eyes you’d ever seen in your life. You leaned down and pressed your lips to his, forming around those soft pink things like you were a thirteen year old girl kissing her crush. He didn’t move as your body was spread out over his, probably afraid this wasn’t real. You didn’t break away as your hand found his, interlacing your fingers together and giving them a squeeze.

You weren’t going anywhere. When Dean allowed himself to realize that, he started kissing back.

You stayed on that couch for the rest of the day.

Dean looked peaceful when you checked on him that night. He was snoring softly on the couch, a blanket over his torso. His boots were by your front door, his socks and jeans folded neatly on your coffee table. He felt safe there with you. You hoped he was still there when you got up in the morning.

You dragged your feet down the hall a few hours later, rubbing at your sore cheek. It helped a little but it itched and you tried to scratch at it, drawing an eyebrow raise from the man making eggs at your stove.

“Don’t scratch,” said Dean, pushing a spatula around. You went back to rubbing the poor skin and heard a low growl from him. “Y/N.”

“Hurts,” you said, moving to grab plates, finding it already done. Dean shifted behind you and soon you felt cool relief up against your skin from a fresh pack. You sighed in relief and Dean ran a hand over your head.

“It needs time to heal, Y/N,” said Dean. “It won’t hurt so much soon.”

“Stay,” you blurted out, Dean stopping his motion of dishing up food for only a second before resuming. He was quiet before he spun around, carried the plates over to your table and sat down. You took a seat across from him, catching his wrist when he picked up a fork. “Please stay.”

“You pity me, Y/N. It’s not the same as love,” said Dean. You slumped back in your seat. You didn’t pity him, you’d never done that. It would only cause a fight if you tried to protest though and you didn’t have it in you to fight him anymore, you didn’t want to.

You were halfway done with your meal, your head down, never once looking up at Dean when you heard him move. He was leaving and he wasn’t coming back. He wasn’t going to-

“Sweetheart,” said Dean beside you, a finger on your cheek guiding your head to turn towards him. You kept your head down but Dean sighed that little sound that made your heart hurt and you lifted it, having to know if he was okay. He wrapped his arms around you as he knelt, pulling you into a hug. “Sh, don’t get upset. I’m sorry I said that.”

“D-deserve it,” you said, wiping your face with the back of your hand, wincing when you rubbed too hard over your scrape. Dean sighed and held your ice pack up, giving you a soft smile.

“You love me,” said Dean. It wasn’t a question. Just three words he hadn’t said out loud before. You nodded and he smiled again. “What did you use to tell me?”

“You’ve got syrup on your face,” you said, Dean cocking his head.

“I’m being serious, Y/N. What did you use to tell me about love and me?” he said. You wiped a napkin over his face, cleaning off the mess, green eyes looking up through lashes with a knowing little smile in them.

“By the time you recognized it was there, the poor girl would have moved on,” you said, tossing your napkin down and reaching for his hand, feeling the hard rough callouses and only thinking how warm and soft he made you feel.

“I got to ask, why didn’t you?” asked Dean. You understood his curiosity. You’d had dates and boyfriends. Yet Dean was always the one you called after a breakup, the one who drove six hours in the middle of the night to spend a day or two or five hanging out with you until you felt better. Dean was always the person you could rely on, always.

“Because I can tell you to get out of my life and you’re back two hours later because you know I couldn’t stand it if I never saw you again,” you said. “It’s easy with you.”

“You’d never get rid of me, Y/N. I’d miss you too much,” he said, standing up, kissing your cheek before returning to his seat. He went back to eating while you stared, unsure of just about everything now. “If I’m staying, I’m not sleeping on that couch the whole damn time.”

“I have a blow up mattress if-”

“What size is your bed?” asked Dean, shoveling the last of his breakfast in his mouth. You tilted your head. “You always wanted a King. Did you finally get one?”

“It’s a King,” you said, Dean wiping off his hands over his plate. He hummed and took it over to your sink, cleaning it off as you tried to figure out what twilight zone you’d entered.

Dean walked around to the back of your house where the bedroom was and your bathroom, poking his head in the other bedroom you hadn’t done anything with yet.

“You could make that a guest room. Have a place for Sammy to stay when he visits,” said Dean, leaning against the wall and smiling at you. “I think we’re too big for all three of us to sleep comfortably in that massive bed anymore. For us it’d be a perfect fit though.”

“Uh, I don’t let boys sleep in my bed anymore Dean, not unless...” you said.

“You weren’t inviting me to stay as just a friend,” said Dean. “Unless I’m a complete idiot.”

“You better not hog all the covers.”

The next morning you woke up with half your body exposed to the cool room. You would have minded had it not been for the hot body curled up behind you, one arm resting over you, that kept you a pleasant toasty warm. Dean and you had shared a bed countless times. Toddlers, kids, teenagers, adults. You’d probably slept beside him a hundred times before.

But this was the first you woke up like this, feeling like you were finally allowed to have this.

“Morning,” said Dean, yawning behind you and stretching his arm out before tucking you in even closer so you had no where to go. You giggled as his finger tips tickled your side, Dean chuckling against you. “Ticklish girl, that’s a cute sound. I think I want to hear it again.”

“Dean!” you squealed, failing at trying to protect the spots Dean knew were most ticklish, squirming into the bed and then into him. When he let you get your breath back he pulled you tight against him, his face so very close to yours. He was looking into your eyes, searching them, a faint smile over his lips before he pressed them to your forehead. “What?”

“You look like that sixteen year old girl who walked over with the keys to Baby and asked me I wanted to go to a movie. Before I hurt you,” said Dean. You tilted your head up to reach up to his lips and give him a chaste kiss.

“The damage wasn’t permanent. Do you want to go to the movies tonight?” you asked. “Sorry for waiting so long to ask again but there wasn’t much good out, ya know?”

“God yes I want to go out with you, you wonderful little dork,” said Dean laughing against you, letting some weight off his shoulders that been there too long. “Later though. I want to cuddle with you this morning.”

“I so knew you were a cuddler, Winchester,” you said, Dean tucking your head under his chin.

“Shut up,” said Dean, making his voice lower for just a moment before that smiled popped back up.

“I’m not complaining,” you said, closing your eyes, listening to his steady heartbeat.

“Good cause you’re gonna get a whole lot of overdue cuddling from me, sweetheart. Count on that.”

@anokhi07 @xxwinchester-22xx @charliebradbury1104 @everyday-supernatural-af @squirels-angels-and-moose @youwerelikeadream @drugpug@darkx143 @kristaparadowski @tom-is-in-my-tardis @tanithlowisabamf @smoothdogsgirl @dancingalone21 @ktrivia @demonic-meatball @feelmyroarrrr @cojootromuelle @gallifreyansass@fangirl1802 @itstheprincess @casgetoutofmydiddlydarnass @mogaruke@secretlyfurrydragon @perpetualabsurdity @ria132love @heycassbutt-67 @aingealcethlenn @docharleythegeekqueen @missmotherhen@smacklesandstretch67 @ceeceewinchester @tumblinwith-me @xfanqirlinq @heaven-is-aplaceonearthwithyou @hey-um-misha@bennyyh @acreativelydifferentlove @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @lovelife-tothefullest @under-general-asthetics @tardis-full-of-fallen-angels @missdestiel67 @evyiione @jensenackesl @xxxdevine-demonsxxx @ayeeitsemry @mac5323 @bellastellaluna @atc74 @captainemwinchester @lemonadegazeelle @nanie5 @idalinette @maximoffangel-girl @quiddy-writes @sassyspn67 @arryn-nyxx @pureawesomeness001 @poukothenerd @af112992 @mickey-m399

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nowuseeitnowudontium · 7 years ago

Text

The Cold Evening Aches

Oneshot. Part of the Fallout Earth AU created by an amazing @julientel and me

Ao3

They are sitting on the floor by the fire, inside the remnants of a terraced house. The street is deserted, every other houses alongside it are empty, same as this entire suburb. The fading light from the setting sun seeps through the shattered glass of a single window in what previously was a living room. Fire illuminates their bruised faces, so similar yet so fundamentally different. One person's eyes still hold that excited spark of curiosity and desire for knowledge, not yet stomped out by the hardships and struggles of the kind of life he is living. And the other one's inhuman eyes never had life in them to begin with.

Both are focused on their work, while the dinner is being prepared in a pan hanging above the fireplace.

Stan tears his gaze away from his little "diary", would you call it, to look at the canned soup and mix it with a steel rod he dig up (and boiled to sterilize beforehand).

"I think it's ready." When Ford doesn't even make a move to lift his head, Stan calls his name sternly. The traveller simply gives a muffled sound of acknowledgement, still remaining in his hunched position.

The synth then reaches to poke the man in front of him with the dirty and hot end of the stick. His irritated glowing eyes are finally met with the brown human ones, which seem to still be relieving the experience that he's been recording in his journal seconds ago. "Poindexter, I'm not the one who's gonna eat that food, so why don't cha take part in it's cookin, ha?" A second passes. Stanford finally comes back to Earth, setting his little book aside, "Yes. I guess that's fair." Stan rolls his eyes, handing him the metal plate he also found in the garbage lying everywhere around (and also sterilized).

He settles back down on his metallic butt, hearing his joints creak in protest. How can this thing still manage to hold up after this long? Heh.

The dude who put you together must be a genius.

Suddenly, something appears from the fog that is most of his mind, but disappears before he can get a glance.

"So. Whacha writin'?" Here. He started a conversation.

Ford, now having a full plate of hot soup in his hands, stops blowing at it and briefly looks up at Stan. The synth can swear his features even lit up a bit. Success.

"Well. I was honestly fascinated by that unique flora representative I saw near the crater we passed by today. From by my experience on this dimension's Earth I can state that any signs of life near places of nuclear blasts are a rare occurrence. Though this one looked almost like a cared for garden with a variety of plants of different lifeforms! I have been speculating on how they might have appeared here. Having a possibility to sample the ground would be great, that might have given some answers. I also noted some distinctive difference in the flower's structure, compared to the one of those on my Earth, indicating that it might have been subjected to mutation triggered by radioactive elements.."

Right. Leave it to Ford to blubber about flowers for goddamn hours straight. At least it’s making him a little bit happier through all this.. shit.

So much like his brother.. not his- the original Stan's. Not his. He isn't h-

"Stanley!" Oops, he drifted off.

"Wha wow chill! Wanna draw some freaks on us or what?"

"I'm going to guess you weren't listening."

"I just lived though it today with ya, why retell it to me! And I don't get most of your science junk."

"Ugh." Eye roll. Stan mimics it perfectly, earning a scoff from the man, who then picks up his now barely warm soup again.

The synth watches through the half-ruined window as the sky turns a darker shade of pink on the horizon where sun disappeared. Then he moves to pick up a journal of his own and starts writing again. He doesn't even notice himself getting lost in thought again as the next thing he hears is his brother (not your brother drop it) calling his name what must be the third time.

"What?!" he rudely snaps. Ford doesn't flinch nor does he shout back. His empty bowl is set aside, he has his book in his hands again. And his expression borders on something too similar to sympathy. Where did that come from and why

"What are you writing? Share with me," he pulls up a smirk.

"Wanna tease me about it? Nah, nerd, that's not gonna happen." The synth averts his eyes to look down at the shabby notebook in his hands again, cutting off any further conversation point-blank. You goof. Racked your brains over how to start one a minute ago

Ford is silent for some time, Stan even thinks he returned back to his own business. But then he hears a sound of a hard cover hitting paper, and realises that he isn't going to be left alone today.

"You know, I'm not a complete jackass to make fun of people for their personal recordings."

"You do realise you just hinted that I'm a jackass."

"Stan p-lease" They both laugh half-heartedly for a bit. Ford is sitting on a piece of fabric they found in the house, his folded sleeping bag beneath him. He pulls knees up and puts his arms on them. A little shiver goes through his body. The air is cooling down. The fire is flickering, sending waves of warmth wherever the wind blows.

Of course the synth is incapable of feeling any of it.

"I was.. I am-" Why is his mouth saying this? Too late "writing my memories down".

The dimension hopper looks his way. His face, now illuminated by the relatively bright light, doesn't look so young, he notices. This man has been battered badly, and not only in physical way.

Stan casts his gaze on the dusty cement. I feel sorry for him. Hey, focuse! Right. He just started opening up about stuff. Can't stop now. (you don't wanna stop now)

"Ya know," he shrugs irritated at himself, not knowing how to phrase it, "to put stuff in order. Since I met you I've been.. remembering, and, like, a lot, for some flipping reason" One of his legs lies on the floor bent at the knee. He rests his hand on the other that is pulled up, making a "whatever" gesture with it. This hand's tissue isn't yet torn to shards, unlike the left one, so the metallic carcass isn't exposed and creaky, which is a cause for joy.

"And.. it doesn't end up," he says it rather quietly, though Ford catches it nonetheless. The following question wasn't long in coming.

"What is?"

"A damn lot of stuff," he doesn't understand why he sounds so defensive. He did actually start this- monologue- himself. Well, he is a jackass after all. "But. Mostly that guy's real life and this," he gestured at his artificial body. "My life. I guess. I can't pin down the moment when it happened. I have no idea how it could even happen. I mean.. What the hell- how did the poor guy even get into this shit?

I remember.. war. I think I remember going to the war. Or planning to... There’s just, like.. fear? And twitching, and restlessness, and other emotional junk. And also your ugly mug." "We share the same fa-" "And another one that keeps coming in and out of focus- argh, this whole thing pisses me off! It doesn't end up, I've got only bits and pieces! It's so fucking frustrating, I- Jeez, I never even wondered much about it, I knew I had all this in my brain once but then I didn't and I did I care? No. Like, what's the point? It's not my life, I remember my life, and- it doesn't even have anything much to remember. It's not a life even.

I know I hate you- not you- for fucks sake!" he got pretty loud. "And that's not even that simple! Never this simple. It's always just a jumble.

That's what I remember! Just emotions! And no explanation to them. That's what sucks the most. For some reason I have this.. anger. Towards that other Ford. And resentment. And I feel like it came from.. me. Not the other guy. I can't tell. And it's freaking me out now more than ever." I thought you just said you remember your life clearly. loser. "Though I feel like.. like I owe him, or something. And, Jeez, of course I care about him. Cared." Well, that sounded not right. A sad sign escapes him. "It's a mess. And every day with you it gets messier. And every day I get new bits, but they are insignificant, like from childhood or somethin'. I don't know, today I got a memory of him geeking out about turtles." Ford snickers quietly.

Stan cracks a smile too, though after spilling his heart out like this he feels rather worn out. Which is new, since he forgot the last time he experienced this feeling. It is.. pleasant. Though of course fearing for his companion's life when he is pulling some stunt in order to get a closer look at some weird thing, or the anxiety he feels when they explore an unknown territory, or that time when he could say he was worrying sick when Ford had a strong fever after not eating or sleeping for several days in order to find a way to fix the synth's conked out brains, or any other time Ford gets injured- all that surely delivers its punch to the robot's seemingly non-existent nervous system. Luckily he is not physically affected by all this in the long run, how can he be.

He's just glad to feel again.

When Stan comes back to reality, he is met with a small, but sincere smile.

He realises he is smiling in a sweet, nostalgic-like way, himself. He corrects that slip pretty fast.

Ford rubs his hands together, breathes on them a few times, then turns away, rising from his spot in order to unpack the sleeping bag. "Glad you shared. I'm sure you'll find answers sooner or later. I'll help with what I can." "Don't get all sappy on me, dork." "Yes, yes. You wish." "God, save me from this." He can practically hear a smile in the irritated tongue clicking sound his friend produces, having already laid down, face away from the weakening fire and him. The synth looks out the window, the sky has no traces of red now, and the stars are barely seen behind the thick clouds that are almost always there as far as he can remember. Though his childhood memories are bright, he'd give them that. "You keep watch." "Sure." "Goodnight, Stanley." "Night."

#fanfiction #fallout earth au #gravity falls #crossover #fallout 4 #stanford pines #stanley pines #why do i even put tags here #my first coherent fic

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imwastingmylifeinhere · 7 years ago

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Magnus Chase and the Obligatory Hogwarts Au Ch21

(My parents were asleep and the keys were in their room, I had to climb out of the door's window to go post this on the stairs. The things I do for you) The second task is here! Just so you know, when I told my sister what this task was going to be she looked me dead in the eye and told “Wow, Dumbledore must be jealous he didn’t think of that” and “Oh, shit. Please tell me they have cursed at you for what you write”. So, yeah. Also, if you think the chapter with the first task was big you haven’t seen anything. This thing is almost 10.7k words. Yes, it’s big, but I assume you don’t mind that. Anyway, time for the pain. Enjoy!

Dating Alex Fierro was great. Actually, great was an understatement. It was bloody fucking amazing. And no, he wasn’t overreacting. (Okay, maybe a little bit, but cut him some slack.)

Since they got together right before Christmas and everybody left for the holidays, they had all the time in the world to go on as many dates as they wanted and boy, did they take advantage of that. They were out of the house pretty much every day, sometimes doing little more than just walking around holding hands, but Magnus loved it nonetheless.

They’d walk around London hand in hand, bundled up in warm clothes and just enjoy the city and the festive atmosphere. They’d visit some park – whichever they stumbled upon – and play in the snow. They’d make a competition out of building things from snow and Alex always won but then Magnus would through snow at her and they’d start a snowball fight. One time, a little kid asked if he could play too and soon enough every child in the park was divided between the two of them and they were having the most epic snowball war in history.

They’d eat lunch outside and they wouldn’t go back at Perthro until it was time for diner, after which they’d cuddle up on Magnus’s bed and watch a movie (or multiple movies). Making Alex leave his room when it was time to go to sleep was probably the most difficult thing because Alex would just cling on him more, make puppy eyes at him and kiss him to distract him (she was a cuddler and Magnus was like her own personal heater, don’t judge her). It worked and she would win one extra hour before Magnus made her leave. They didn’t need another awkward talk from Blitzen and Hearthstone.

Their teachers and guardians picked up on the fact that they were together fast, probably because Alex would tease Magnus all the time to make him blush and once she succeeded she’d call him cute and kiss him on the cheek.

…Yeah, they weren’t subtle.

And that lack of subtlety lead to them being sat down by Blitzen and Hearthstone so they could be given the Talk. The whole thing ended with Magnus and Alex blushing like mad and knowing where the, um, “safe products” were kept. Needless to say they weren’t eager for a repeat of that conversation.

The same routine went on for the entirety of the holidays and Magnus couldn’t be happier. The message on the parchment and the Task he would have to compete in next were completely forgotten until he stepped foot on the Hogwarts Express.

They were walking to their compartment at the train, hands clasped between them as Magnus talked about that to Alex, letting his boyfriend today know about his worries concerning the Second Task.

“Hey,” Alex said as he squeezed Magnus’s hand to make him look at him. The familiar feeling of Alex’s hand in his helped to calm him down, but he could still feel the worry creeping up his spine like a snake.

“It’s going to be alright,” Alex said. “You’re gonna go out there and mop the floor with Helga’s face and you’re going to be awesome while doing it, I’m sure of it.” Alex leaned forward to kiss Magnus on the lips and Magnus smiled into the kiss.

It was then that the door of the compartment opened and T.J walked out. “I’m going to go find-“ he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Magnus and Alex kissing in front of the compartment and he turned back to their friends. “Found them!”

Magnus was flushing brighter than a light bulb as they walked into their compartment, their friends all looking at them and their joint hands with big smiles on their faces.

“Well, we were gonna have to tell them somehow,” Alex amended, not sounding guilty at all. Magnus would have glared at him if he wasn’t too busy glaring at Mallory who was wiggling her eyebrows at them. “Guys, Magnus and I are dating. This dork is mine!”

“It’s about time!” Mallory yelled.

“If you took any longer we would have tried to set you up,” T.J, who was plopped down next to Mallory, said. “Honestly, we were expecting you to get together by the Yule Ball at the latest.”

“That’s when we got together, actually,” Alex said as he and Magnus sat down next to Sam, who smiled at them and gave them thumbs up. “I call dibs on best woman at the wedding,” she whispered into Magnus’s ear, making the blonde go red and glare at her before he got an idea and whispered to her, “Only if I’m best man at your wedding with Amir.” Sam blushed redder than a tomato and Magnus felt satisfied.

“I knew it!” T.J yelled as he jumped to his feet, fists up in the air in victory. “In knew that’s when you’d get together! Mallory, Sam, pay up!”

“You betted on us?” Magnus asked incredulous.

As Mallory and Sam were digging in their pockets for their money, T.J looked at Magnus over his shoulder with the most confused expression in the world, like Magnus had just asked him if fish can swim. “Well, duh.”

Magnus couldn’t help himself; he burst out laughing. It was there, laughing with his friends in a compartment in the Hogwarts Express like they always did, that Magnus was able to put his worries about the second task aside for now. It was going to be fine, like Alex said. How much worse than the First Task could it be?

///

Magnus could only wish that he was feeling that confident a few weeks later, at the morning of the Second Task. He was already wearing his uniform for the Task, and so was Raphael, who was having breakfast at the Beauxbatons table. Strangely enough, Louis wasn’t by his side today and it surprised Magnus to say the least – those two were practically joined at the hip. He didn’t ponder on it for long, though; Louis could simply have slept in late, or maybe he was in the kitchens stress-baking. Besides, he had his own troubles to worry about – like the fact he kept postponing figuring out the riddle in favor of spending time with Alex.

He just – he forgot about it. He told himself he would work on it during the holidays, but then he and Alex got together and it flew out of his mind. He’d then tell himself it didn’t matter and that he still had time to solve it when school started again but then they got back at Hogwarts and Magnus would put it aside in favor of dates and cuddling and even studying together. So yeah – he forgot. Damn Alex and her nice kisses!

Speaking of Alex, the green-haired troublemaker was nowhere to be seen. Magnus hadn’t seen her since yesterday, when they had spent the afternoon together at the Room of Requirement, just hanging out and working on homework (and kissing) to get Magnus to relax before the Second Task.

“Are you sure you haven’t seen Alex around?” Magnus asked as he played around with the food on his plate.

“I had gone to sleep before she came back to our dorm, but her bed was made this morning so she must have left before we woke up,” Mallory said casually. It wasn’t weird for Alex to come back to their dorm late – she did that a lot when she was working on a drawing and needed to get a change of scenery.

Still, that didn’t reassure Magnus a lot. He heard Sam and Mallory complain about Alex never making her bed hundreds of times – something in him doubted that if she suddenly wanted to draw in the morning she’d take the time make her bed. He wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t even put clothes on because she was too busy drawing!

He didn’t get to ask his friends any more questions because the bell soon sounded and the students run out of the Hall of the Slain excitedly, eager to see what the Second Task had to offer.

“Good luck, Magnus!” Sam called out to him as he was making his way to the back door of the dining hall, like Headmaster Odin had instructed him.

“Kick their asses, Magnus!” Mallory yelled, her cupped hands making a cone in front of her mouth to make sure everyone in a ten kilometers radius will hear her.

“Go show them who’s boss!” T.J cheered, fist pumping in the air. Magnus smiled at them and gave them a thumbs up before walking through the door.

The three Headmasters were waiting for them in the back room. Raphael and Helga were already there and Raphael waved at him with a smile. Magnus returned the silent greeting as they all sat down on a bench so the Headmasters could explain to them what the task would be about.

Or, that’s what Magnus thought they’d do, but instead their explanation was just as cryptic as the riddle from bottle. Apparently the task relied heavily on them not knowing much about what they were going to face. The pre-task speech was more about the importance of fair play than anything else and Magnus soon found himself tuning it out – and from what he could see, Raphael and Helga were doing the same thing.

He started repeating the riddle in his head, trying to see what he could come up with.

In dusty corridors you will find us. That’s the location of the Task, but it told him little more than the fact they would compete in a closed space.

And know our guards will not let us go without a fuss. That, along with the line after the next, what they guard you need to save that for which you care unconditionally, made it clear to Magnus that they would have to take something that someone was guarding, but he wasn’t sure what that something was or what they would need to save with it.

As for the guards themselves, they only had three characteristics to go off of and Magnus really regretted not taking his time to research that part to see what they might be referring to.

The last two lines were the time limit, but what send chills down Magnus’s spine was the last line. Too late – we’re sorry, your treasure is gone. It brought back memories of the night four years ago, the scorching heat of the flames as the home he had spent his whole life in burned down around him, his mother trapped under the remains of their ceiling.

“Alright, let’s get going,” Headmaster Sonia said as she gestured at the door leading back to the dining hall. The three Champions got up from their bench and stood behind the Headmasters, their expressions deadly serious. They all knew what they were about to take part in wasn’t going to be a walk through the park.

The moment the door opened and Magnus stepped back into the Hall of the Slain he was greeted by the cacophony of voices from the stands. The hall had been cleared from tables, looking like it did when Magnus and the other Hufflepuffs decorated it for the Halloween party. The stands were the audience was sitting were mounted on the walls, like balconies in a theater. Magnus noticed his friends on one of the balconies, their eyes locked on him. His stomach dropped when he saw that Alex wasn’t there and he realized why when he looked at the middle of the hall.

There, in the middle of the room were three long tables arranged in a triangle, each with its own cauldron and items needed to brew a potion. In front of the tables was what made Magnus’s blood run cold in his veins – Alex’s body was lying motionless like a corpse on a table, her eyes closed and her cheeks devoid of color. She looked like a dead body waiting to be dressed before a funeral and Magnus hated thinking of her like that.

“A-Alex!” Magnus found himself crying out as he ran forward to where Alex was lying. He grabbed her hand immediately and he gasped at how cold her skin was. His fingers fumbled as her tried to take her pulse and he almost dropped her hand once in his hurry. His eyes burned with unshed tears and he felt his heart stop beating when he wasn’t able to feel a pulse.

“No no no no no…” He kept chanting his mantra without realizing as he moved his hands, hoping with everything he had that he had made a mistake, that Alex wasn’t – that she wasn’t-

She’s not dead. She’s not dead. She can’t be dead. Merlin almighty, please let her not be dead.

But he felt nothing, nothing but cold waxy skin –

Thump thump thump.

Magnus let out the breath his was holding when he felt Alex’s pulse underneath his fingertips. He smiled relieved, but the smile soon fell from his face when he realized how slow and faint it was.

“Louis! Louis! Mon cher, s’il te plait, reveille toi!” Raphael was by Louis’s side, holding the blonde’s face in his hands and whispering French at him. Yet as much as he talked and cried out, Louis remained unmoving.

“Agatha!” Helga was standing by Agatha’s body, her knees trembling visibly, her palms covering her mouth as if they would stop her crying from coming out. Her knees seemed to give out and she rushed forward, taking Agatha into her arms. She held her friend in her arms as she mumbled rapidly in Swedish – “Fan, snälla vakna, jag ber dig, vakna”. She cupped Agatha’s face gently before moving her hand downwards to her slender neck and feeling for her pulse.

“Champions!” Headmaster Gilbert called out. “Please step aside from your friends!”

“What’s going on?” Raphael was looking at the Headmasters but he didn’t stop cradling Louis’s head in his hands. Agatha was still in Helga’s arms and Magnus was holding Alex’s hand in both of his own.

“We will explain shortly, but please step aside for now.” As much as they didn’t want to, the three Champions stepped away from their significant others and friend like they were told to, if only just barely.

“Students of Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, my dear guests, it’s time for the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament!” Headmaster Odin’s cheery tone felt very out of place as Magnus held onto Alex’s cold hand. “As you know, each Champion got a bottle with a piece of parchment inside at the end of the last task. On that parchment was a clue about today’s task.”

Headmaster Sonia went on to recite the poem from the parchment as Magnus let his eyes wander back down to Alex’s body. She looked so calm. One could have assumed she was just sleeping if it wasn’t for her being a bit to still, her breathing a bit too slow, her skin a bit too cold. It was so easy for his mind to replace their surroundings with crumbling walls and scorching flames.

“On each table is parchment,” Headmaster Gilbert went on. “On the parchment is a lead to the first of three special ingredients necessary to heal their friends. Each one of them has been given a slow-acting poison. It will take two more hours for it to take full effect. In that time they must get all three ingredients and brew the antidote according to the instructions they will find on their table. The-“

“You what?” A loud, furious voice interrupted the Beauxbatons’s Headmaster. Helga had put Agatha back down on the table carefully and was now walking to the Headmasters like a soldier on a mission. Her shoulders were held back, her brows were furrowed and her eyes seemed to have fire burning inside them – she looked like she was willing to bring down a building to get what she wanted.

“You mean to tell me you poisoned three students, you poisoned Agatha, all for your stupid Tournament?” Venom dripped from her every word and she was glaring at the Headmasters so hard it was a wonder they hadn’t dropped dead on the spot. For the first time since he met her, Magnus found himself agreeing with Helga.

“Miss Leifsson, please calm down,” Headmaster Odin said as he put a hand on Helga’s shoulder. She whipped around to him and threw his hand off her like she wanted to break it.

“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down! I knew this Tournament was dangerous and I was prepared for that when I put my name in the Goblet, but you have no right to put Agatha in danger like this!”

“Miss Leifsson.” The stern voice of Headmaster Sonia made Helga turn around. “I suggest you leave your complains about the Tournament for later.” Helga opened her mouth to talk but her Headmaster cut her off. “If we have this discussion now it will cause your friend valuable time.”

That seemed to finally calm Helga down, or at least enough so that she looked like she was only thinking about murdering the teachers in front of her instead of being on the brink of doing it. “Alright,” she said with a tight voice and moved back to her table.

“I believe we are now ready to start,” Headmaster Odin said. “Like last time, the floating cameras will be showing the Champions’ progress to the audience. Champions, please take the parchment in your hands.”

Magnus didn’t want to let go of Alex’s hand. He knew what happened to his mother when he let her go that night in the fire; he didn’t want the same to happen again.

It won’t, he told himself with all the confidence he could master. You’ll save her. You’ll get those goddamn ingredients and make the antidote. You can do something this time.

He took the parchment in his hands.

“Get ready.”

He closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. He could swear the air around him was getting warmer, like he was standing inside an over. He could hear the crackling of flame in his ears.

“Set.”

Focus. You have this. You can do it. Alex won’t burn.

“Go!”

Magnus untied the thin string that was holding the parchment together and opened it. One of the floating cameras was flying over his shoulder, showing the message of the parchment on the screen.

“My guardian’s bite is worse than its growl you’ll find me in the room of souls. They have tales to tell but they have no voice; they have scenes to show but they have no sight.”

Magnus’s first thought was that the ‘room of souls’ referred to ghosts, but then the last two lines made no sense – Magnus knew plenty of ghosts in Hogwarts and not one of them was close to having no voice. He couldn’t think of any ghosts that were blind either, so that ruled ghosts out.

Paintings were ruled out in much the same way. He raked his brain to figure out what it was the riddle was referring to. The ‘room of souls’ wasn’t much help, so he focused on the last lines. Stories told with no voice, scenes shown with no sight… No sound, no pictures…

Magnus’s eyes widened as he realized were he needed to go. He scrunched the parchment in his hand, not bothering to fold it, and run out of the Hall of the Slain as fast as he could with the bag he found on the table hanging from his shoulder.

“Magnus Chase is leaving the dining hall, ladies and gentlemen! It seems like he has figured out the riddle!” Professor Thor was the announcer once more and hearing his cheery voice made Magnus’s pulse pick up with rage. You’re commenting on a competition with people’s lives in the line! You shouldn’t sound happy!

Magnus was running down the corridor, his steps almost as loud as the beating of his heart. There was a bad, sour taste in his mouth at the thought of what would happen if he took one wrong step, if he was a minute late, but he pushed it down. Don’t think about it. Focus on the task.

He saw the floating cameras flying by his side but he paid it no mind, letting his legs follow the path he had taken so many times in his seven years at Hogwarts. Yet the familiar halls felt strange and cold now without the students milling about. The knowledge that Alex’s life was in the line made the once well known castle feel unwelcome.

He turned the corner and run into the Hogwarts library. The bookcases were pushed to the side, making a wide corridor was created down the middle to the windows. Magnus realized what the room of souls must have meant; this was a room full of books, works that their authors had poured blood, sweat and tears into. He had heard people saying that a book held a little bit of the author’s soul in it (the librarian in his old neighborhood would say that), but that was still a very dramatic way to describe a library.

Magnus recognized the window where his favorite table was, the place he had studied at so many times and exchanged gifts with his friends at Christmas.

Sitting in front of that very window was a large beast. Its body was that of a lion, its golden fur glistening in the light coming in from the windows. But instead of a lion’s head it had a human one, its long hair looking like a mane. It’s face looked human enough, but the closer Magnus got the more details he was able to make out. Its eyes were yellow and its pupils silted, its nose resembled a snout and sharp teeth picked out from its lips.

Magnus knew what it was very well. A Sphinx.

Behind it, inside a glass box, was a vial of purple liquid.

“Ah, so you are the first Champion that has come to try and solve my riddles.” The beast’s voice was low and it reminded Magnus of a lion’s growl. He recalled the line in the riddle and his stomach dropped when he remembered what a Sphinx does to anyone who can’t answer its riddles.

“I have to admit, you’re shorter than I expected,” the Sphinx went on. “But then again, a man’s intelligence is not measured by his physical might. I should know, I’ve eaten many a strongmen with not a drop of knowledge in their heads.” The Sphinx shrugged, Magnus never though he would have seen a lion (or someone with a lion’s body) shrug. “They were tasty snacks.”

“What’s your riddle?” Magnus asked as confidently as he could. Yet as much as he tried to make his voice sound even he knew it trembled a bit at the end, that his hands were sweating way too much where they were clenched by his sides.

The Sphinx frowned at Magnus before sighing deeply. “Now, don’t be so serious. Let’s have some fun, shall we?”

Magnus would have protested that he has no time to have fun with a beast that could easily kill him when his girlfriend’s life was in danger but the words stuck in his throat when the Sphinx started getting up. It stood up on its hind legs, easily two heads taller than the bookcases. Magnus pictured really clearly how easy it would be for the beast to pick him up by his head and eat him like a piece of falafel.

The Sphinx gave a sharp jab at the wall with its elbow. The curtains by the windows fell closed, plunging the room in shadow. Then, as Magnus was looking around alarmed, a spotlight fell on the Sphinx, making its hair glow under the light. It pulled a bowtie and a top hat from somewhere inside its mane and looked at Magnus with a smirk on its lips.

“It’s time for everyone’s favorite game, ‘Riddles and Disembowelment’!”

Magnus was left speechless as a two shining blue podiums rolled in, not unlike those in game-shows. The one that stopped in front of the Sphinx had a shining name plate on it that read “Alfred the Sphinx”. The one that must be for Magnus had a name plate reading “Fool #1”.

“Please, take your place!” The Sphinx – Alfred – said, gesturing to Magnus’s podium with a paw. Magnus went there quietly, still very confused about what he was seeing. Did someone slip something into his food this morning?

“The rules of the game are simple,” Alfred started, wearing that stupid game-show host smile on his lips. “I tell you three riddles and you have as much time as you want to answer them. If you answer at least two correctly, you can get your reward.” He gestured at the glass case. “If you don’t get at least two correct, well, that’s better for me, I suppose!” Magnus saw Alfred’s paw press down slightly and a recorded laugh track rang out in the library. Magnus wondered if the laugh track would play while Alfred ate him, but he decided not to think too much about that.

“So, should we start?” Alfred asked with a wide smile that showed all of his sharp teeth. Well, that just helps my confidence.

Despite the fear coursing through him at the sight of those teeth, Magnus nodded. “Yes.”

Alfred seemed delighted by his answer and he smiled even wider. “Alright! First riddle!” The Sphinx took of his top hat and made a big show of searching inside it, moving his paw inside it a lot and making faces, as if he was consecrating very hard on this. Finally, he pulled his paw out with a loud “Aha!” It was a bizarre enough sight as it was but what made it weirder was the dramatic music playing in the background.

“How do you build a house whose every wall faces the south?” Alfred said the question the same way every game-show host did; in a stern, deadly serious voice, with pauses between words for extra dramatic effect.

Magnus repeated the riddle in his head, trying to figure it out. It was weird how he felt confident he’ll be able to solve the riddles easily a moment ago yet the second it was asked his mind went blank.

He tried to see if it would be possible for a house like that to be build in any normal neighborhood, but that was quickly scrapped. Even if two walls faced the south at an angle, the other two would face the north. Then he thought of building it in the South Pole and he almost opened his mouth to answer. Alfred raised an eyebrow at him but Magnus shut his mouth as he realized that if the house was in the most southern point in the earth all its walls would face north.

So, then…

“You build it in the north pole,” he said. “This way, everything else will be south from it.”

Magnus couldn’t deny that his heart was beating louder in anticipation as Alfred’s remained serious, giving him no clue as to whether he was correct or not. The dramatic music rose steadily in tempo and after a good minute of looking straight into the contestant’s eyes, like any good game-show host should, Alfred spoke.

“And that was…” A wide grin spread across the Sphinx’s face. “Correct!”

A recorded applause started playing when Alfred slapped the podium in excitement over Magnus’s correct answer.

“Let’s move on to the next riddle then! You have a room with a single light-bulb inside and three switches outside the room. The door of the room is closed, you can only open it and go inside once and you can’t leave it open. How do you figure out which is the correct switch?”

Magnus scrunched his eyebrows and ducked down his head, drawing designs in the slick surface of the podium so he wouldn’t get confused. His first thought was that you just open and close the switches with the door open, but the Alfred said he couldn’t leave it open.

How do you know if the light is on in a room with a closed door?

Memories came back to Magnus suddenly, his young self clutching his goat plushy as he looked up and down the hall for his mother after a nightmare. He’d see the light spilling out from the crack under his mother’s bedroom and he’d run to her, tears almost falling from his eyes.

“You turn on and off each switch and look under the crack in the door to see if any light is coming through.”

Once more, Magnus didn’t know immediately if what he said was correct because of that goddamn dramatic music. Who made that music, anyway? Because it was getting annoying. There was even a part that sounded like someone had told a five year old to count to five and then press the same stupid piano note.

“That was….” More of that blasted drum roll. “Wrong! Oh, too bad!”

Booing sounded out in the library and Magnus was considering taking whatever sound box this Sphinx had and making him eat it. I don’t have time for this! I need to get to Alex!

“The correct answer is this,” the Sphinx started. “You turn on the first switch and leave it on for a few minutes. After you turn it off, you turn on the second one and open the door. If the light is one the correct switch is the second. If the light is off and the light-bulb is hot it’s the first switch and if it’s cold it’s the third one.”

Magnus felt like hitting his head on something for not thinking of that. (Or maybe he could hit Alfred’s head on something.)

“Aww, don’t be like that! You still have one last riddle!” Alfred’s over-exaggerated sympathy wasn’t really helping him much – Magnus was still annoyed at him. Why are all show hosts like this?

“Of course,” the Sphinx continued, “it’ll be the most difficult one, but people love an underdog, right?” More of that blasted applause track.

“If I don’t answer it correctly you’ll eat me, right?” Magnus wasn’t sure why he asked. Maybe he wanted to make sure that if he died today at least Alfred would make his corpse into a healthy meal.

“Eat you?” Alfred started laughing, his laughter just as exaggerated as everything else he did. “Oh, please, do you know how unhealthy humans are? If I ate you not only would I be in trouble with the Ministry and have to pay a heavy fine but I’d get indigestion for two weeks! Nah, I’ll just have a limb. Probably from the knee below too, to be honest. I prefer females. They have juicier meat.”

Magnus took that in quietly. There was something very bizarre about a giant cat with a human face speaking about you like meat at the butcher’s.

“Anyway, enough with my dietary habits, time for the last riddle!” The music’s tempo picked as did Magnus’s heartbeat. He had to get this one right. If he didn’t get this one right Alex would be a goner and he’d be a limb shorter.

“You have ten sacks of gold coins. Each sack was a hundred coins at the most. Each coin weights 10 grams but one sack has fake coins that weight 9 grams. You can weigh the coins, but only once and you’re not allowed to take or add anything to what you weigh. How do you know which sack has the fake coins?”

Magnus’s eyes widened as he heard the riddle and he gulped. Oh great, he’s back at math class. “Can I have a piece of paper and a pencil?” he asked.

“Oh, of course.” The Sphinx handed him what he asked for and he got to work.

First, he tried to calculate how much each sack would weigh. But the riddle never specified how many coins were in each sack; it just said it they had a hundred coins max. So then what about calculating how much ten coins from each bag would weight? That’s 100 coins that weigh 1000 grams. If one sack has face coins then ten of those coins would weigh 90 grams and the total weigh would be 990 grams instead of 1000. But then that doesn’t tell you which sack has the fakes. So then…

Magnus did a few quick calculations before allowing himself to grin. Yes, this must be it!

“Do you have the answer?” Alfred asked. The music was low and ominous.

“Yes.” Magnus’s heart was beating louder than the music and something in him told him to stop and reconsider, but he had two more ingredients to find and he couldn’t afford staying here any longer. “You weigh one coin from sack number one, two from the second, three from the third and so on. That should give you a total weight of 550 grams for 55 coins if all coins were real, but one sack has fakes, so it’ll be less than that. You know what sack has the fakes because of how many grams are missing. If the final weight is, for example, 547 grams you’re missing three grams, so the one with the fakes is the third sack.”

Magnus let out a breath when he finished his answer. The music had become white noise and he no longer paid attention to it. Alfred’s expression was truly surprised, his silted eyes wide and his mouth hanging wide.

“I… wow. That’s the one most people get wrong,” he said quietly and Magnus was so surprised by the fact his reaction wasn’t over-the-top that it almost didn’t register in him. “Well, guess I’m not having you as a snack today! You won!”

“Magnus Chase has done it! The Hogwarts Champion has managed to get the first ingredient!” Magnus could hear Professor Thor making announcements from somewhere as ‘We are the Champions’ started playing in the library.

Confetti burst out from somewhere behind the bookcases and Alfred handed Magnus the glass box and the key that opened it. Magnus snatched the key out of the Sphinx’s paw faster than he thought he could and opened the box, putting the vial inside his back. Under the vial was a slip of parchment.

He run out of the library with a hasty bye (he knew creatures like Sphinxes valued manners) and read the message on the parchment.

“Come find me quick ‘cause I’m afraid of heights. To my guardian, manners hold lots of weight. My guardian wants to take to the sky but he’s stuck underground. At least there’s a lot of space around.”

Magnus didn’t think much about and immediately started running for the dungeons. The guardian is stuck underground, so that’s obviously in the dungeons. Afraid of heights and a lot of space around… Magnus was finally glad for all the time he had spent wandering around the castle with Alex and Annabeth and Percy. He knew just were the second ingredient must be.

His steps sounded louder and louder the deeper he went into the dungeons, the sound echoing of the walls. The air was much more humid here, he could practically taste the moistness in the air. He run past the classrooms, past the corridor he knew lead to the Slytherin common room, past the locked storage rooms.

Finally, he found the room he was searching for. Magnus and Alex had found it back in fourth year, when he was showing Alex around the castle and she wanted to explore the dungeons. They found this room, circular and tall, taller than the dining hall, and they nicknamed it “Echo Room” because it their voices echoed really loudly there. They spent a little more than half an hour here, yelling stupid things at the top of their voices. Magnus really wished he was there again to hear Alex yell “I WANT A DIVORCE” and “MOTHERFUCKING GOLD SHITTING DUCKS” instead of trying to get ingredients for the antidote to the poison she was given.

The room was used for storage, like most unused rooms in the dungeons, and it was one of those rooms that was completely forgotten. Everything inside it – old broken desks, filling cabinets, chairs, bookcases of yellow-paged books – were covered by a thick blanket of dust. Alex had joked that sneezing inside here would create a dust-storm.

And in the middle of the room, inside an object-free clearing, stood a Hippogriff. The feathers on its head were snow-white and they changed to brown at its neck. Its horse hind legs matched the color of its brown feathers perfectly. Its black tail and its wings twitched irritably, its large talons scratched at the ground. Magnus knew it really didn’t want to be down here, trapped under the weight of the whole castle, and its annoyance meant trouble for Magnus.

One wrong step and I’ll get my eyes clawed out.

He took slow steps around the room, making sure to stick to the unused objects lining the walls. He knew the winged beast wouldn’t attack him if he kept his distance and that’s what he did as he looked around for where the next potion ingredient was. Yet as much as he looked, opening cabinets and searching the top of bookcases, he couldn’t find it. He had circled the whole room and found nothing.

Afraid of heights, afraid of heights…

An idea came to him like a flash and he looked upwards. There, stuck to the ceiling, was a glass box with a bunch of some sort of weeds inside that Magnus couldn’t recognize from the ground.

Magnus gulped as he realized what he had to do and he steadied himself before taking the first step. He waited until the Hippogriff had turned to him and he locked eyes with the large beast. He remembered what he had learned at Care of Magical Creatures and he didn’t break eye contact with the winged beast.

Fortunately, the Hippogriff didn’t lunge at him. It recognized Magnus etiquette, that the human in front of it respected it and showed back the appropriate politeness. Magnus walked forward excruciatingly slow, careful not to make any sudden movements. When he was bet a few steps away from the Hippogriff, he bowed.

He stayed there – bowed over, the dusty floor the only thing he could see – for what seemed like a century. Every second felt like an hour, every beat of his heart like a week. All he could think was Alex on that table, cold and motionless, getting closer and closer to what he hated to think about with every moment he spent here. He wanted to get this over with, he wanted the Hippogriff to just bow back already so he could get the ingredient and save Alex.

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, the Hippogriff bowed down and Magnus saw its feathered head touch the ground. He waited until it stood up again and followed suit. He gently placed his hands at the side of the beast’s head and looked into its orange eyes. He knew attempting to ride a Hippogriff the first time he met it could be trouble but it was the only idea he had that didn’t result in him having one less eye.

“Please, may I ride on your back?” He asked slowly. He looked into the Hippogriffs eyes, trying to convey all the things he needed to tell it and couldn’t find the words for. “Please, it’s urgent. Alex… she…”

Thankfully, the Hippogriff seemed to understand the desperation in his eyes and made a crooning sound in the back of its throat. It bowed down its head again along with its legs, his body now low enough for Magnus to climb on.

Once on the beast’s back, Magnus wrapped his arms around the Hippogriff’s neck. “Up there,” he said, pointing to the ceiling. The Hippogriff seemed to understand because it made a high-pitched noise before jumping up in the air, its wings unfolding at each side of its body.

Magnus screamed despite himself; the sudden take off startling him and making him almost slipping off the Hippogriff. He managed to hold on, his hands clutching at the beast’s feathers. The Hippogriff flew in circles around the room, relishing in the feeling of finally using its wings. It didn’t indulge in it for too long though – it knew that the little human ridding on its back needed its help and it could cost such a polite human his mate.

Finally, the Hippogriff reached the highest point it could each inside the enclosed space. Magnus carefully stood up on the beast’s back, feeling the Hippogriff’s muscles move under his feet as it beat its wings. He reach up and screamed when he felt himself wobble, but he quickly spread his arms out to steady himself.

He tried again, his fingers brushing the cool glass. He found that this box didn’t have a lock and key like Alfred’s, but getting to the box was more challenge than finding a key. Opening the glass box, he reached his hand inside and took the small bunch off weeds along with the small parchment under it.

“Alright, I got it,” he said as he petted the back of the Hippogriff’s head. The Hippogriff responded with a happy cry and flew to the ground.

“And Magnus Chase has taken the second ingredient! He only needs one more before he can make the potion and save his treasure! The time that remains is an hour and five minutes!”

One more ingredient. One more and I can save Alex.

He turned back to the Hippogriff and bowed. “Thank you,” he said and then left the room. His feet carried him through the familiar halls without him thinking much about it. He unfolded the parchment as he turned a corner and he read the message written on it with dark ink.

“Come find me where the present, past and future are seen but know my guardian will show you things you won’t want to see. Be prepared, Champion, be brave; Fears cannot be easily tamed.”

Magnus cursed inwardly. The Divination classroom was at the other side of the castle – walking, it would take him twenty to twenty five minutes to get there from the dungeons. Taking that long was out of the question so he started running.

His feet hitting the stone floor sounded like the ticking of a clock, each step bringing him closer to the two-hour time limit. He run through the halls as fast as he could, his legs and lungs soon burning but he didn’t slow down. He would have enough time to collapse on the ground and pant after he saved Alex; right now he had not time to spare.

He pasted the empty classrooms, pasted the vacant corridors, the portraits on the walls looking at him with curiosity as he run by. His blood run through his veins so hard he could hear it in his ears and his heartbeat seemed to drown out all other sounds. He crossed paths with Raphael at one point, but they didn’t acknowledge each other past a quick glance – they both had something much more important to do now.

He reached the stairs that lead up the tower to the Divination classroom and climbed them two at a time. His legs were yelling at him to stop but he didn’t, not until he reached the top of the stairs. He let himself take a deep breath before sprinting to classroom. He had never taken this class, but Mallory and T.J had and he often came with them up here when he didn’t have a class and wanted to walk around. Even despite all the times he had come up here, he had never been inside the class.

The room was more like an attic than anything else; you had to open a trapdoor and pull down a folding ladder to get to it. Inside, the roof made a tall cone above his head. Tapestries decorated the walls and drapes were hung across the ceiling, making the room feel like the inside of a dark circus tent. The desks – meaning the low tables and cushions the students sat on – were pushed to the walls, leaving space in the middle of the room. Opposite Magnus, next to wooden chest, was a small table with the only source of light in the room on it, one lit candle on either side of the glass box. Inside it was a much smaller wooden box with a metal clasp at the front.

Magnus took a moment to look around, baffled by the absence of a guard. This was the last and final ingredient, he expected this to be the most difficult part and yet no one was around. Something in him didn’t like this, it seemed too easy, felt too much like a trap. Still, he found himself stepping forward, his hand reaching out for the box in front of him. Whatever this trap might be, he would face it and win. For Alex.

He had hardly taken two steps towards the glass box when a gust of wind blew out the candles. At the same there was a loud bang and the trapdoor behind him shut closed. What little light there was in the room disappeared and Magnus blinked to try and get used to the sudden darkness. He looked around him frantically, searching for the source of the wind and this ingredient’s guardian, but he could see nothing in the dark. He run to the trapdoor and pulled on the handle. Locked. Of course.

“Lumos,” he said, but nothing happened. What? “Lumos,” he tried again and again nothing. Fear spread through him and he felt his blood run cold as he realized what was happening.

Magic nullification. They’ve made it so no magic can be cast inside the room.

Cold sweat run down his skin as he darted to the walls. Being without his magic, something that was a part of him for so long, made him feel vulnerable, naked. He pulled the tapestry covering the stone wall away roughly, the thick fabric falling to the ground. Hidden behind it was a rune Magnus knew was used to bind magic. Similar runes were no doubt behind every tapestry in the room. Magnus wouldn’t be able to cast magic without exiting the room and there was no way to do that with the locked trapdoor behind him.

Then, in the blink of an eye, the darkness disappeared, replaced by a bright, scorching heat. Magnus shut his eyes tight to shield them from the sudden light and brought his arms up to his face. He blinked until his eyes got used to the new light and looked around him.

The Divination classroom had disappeared, replaced on all sides by flames. They licked the walls that seemed to crumble under their heat, stained black by soot. The ceiling was in the same state, the now flat plaster cracking from the high temperature and falling to the ground. The flames seemed to be drawn to him, the fire forming shapes like wolves that pounced at him and tried to bite at his legs.

But worse of all, there, in front of the chest and the little table, under a broken bean and a large part of the ceiling, was his mother. It was like not a single day had passed since that night and he was back at his living room as it burned down around him. His mother was trying to get out from under the broken ceiling, but the plaster wouldn’t budge no matter how much she struggled. There were tears in her eyes and down her cheeks, her face the definition of panic.

“Magnus!” She cried out. Magnus felt tears sting his eyes at the sound of his mother’s voice, the fright, the helplessness in it. “Magnus! Help!”

Magnus was frozen on the spot. He’d seen this scene play out again and again in his nightmares after the fire - he still did sometimes - but to be back here, back at his burning house, to see his childhood go down in flames around him, realer than any dream, was almost too much. Something in him screamed at him to rush forward, to save his mother now that he had a second chance, but he held himself back, as horrible as it was.

This wasn’t his mother. She wasn’t here, in this burning room in Hogwarts. She was buried in a London cemetery with wild geraniums on her grave.

Still, despite knowing this wasn’t real, it hurt. It hurt watching his mother die all over again in front of him. Tears welled up in his eyes and run down his face as the flames licked at her trapped body and she wailed in pain.

Then the fire flickered and suddenly his mother wasn’t there anymore. Alex was in her place, the tears in her two-colored eyes shining in the light of the flames. Her hair smoked at the ends and soot covered her face. “Magnus!” She cried out, her voice breaking at the end as she started coughing hard from the smoke. She reached out for him desperately, the tears rolling down her face in fat drops that were burned away by the heat. “Where are you?”

Magnus darted forward to get to her, his arm already outstretched to pull her out from under the rumble. “Alex!” He called out, his voice sounding like it was ripped out from his throat.

He had only taken a step when Alex disappeared, consumed by the flames. Sam was in her place now, coughing frantically as smoke filled her lungs. Her hijab was charred by the fire, flames burning away the fabric whose color couldn’t be made out anymore. She pushed her body up, trying to get the heavy bean and debris off of her. She was doing good but then she coughed again and slumped down on the floor, crying out from the weight that fell on her. “Help!”

Magnus’s step faltered for only a second and then he was running to the other side of the room. With every step the person under the rumble changed, but the fear in their eyes and their cries for help didn’t.

Sam was replaced by T.J, his dark skin glowing with sweat under the light of the flames, his face transformed by fear.

“Magnus!”

Then Halfborn, his hair singed, coughing hard and struggling to pull himself out from under the debris and failing.

“Please!”

Mallory took his place, her face burned red at the side, tears in her eyes as she fought to get out.

“Help!”

Annabeth, her strong arms covered with burns and blistering skin as she struggled to free herself but couldn’t seem to get her legs from under the debris.

“Magnus!”

Blitzen and Hearthstone, trapped together under the broken bean and ceiling, crying for help with tears in their eyes and soot on their faces.

“Magnus!”

All the other kids from Perthro, boys and girls and everything in between, all of Magnus’s new family, trapped and crying and begging for him to help them.

“Help!”

With each step the cries grew louder, the flames rose higher and hotter. Magnus’s eyes were blurry with tears and he seemed to be moving slower, as if time had froze and he’d have to stay here, watching his friends, his family, the person he loves burn to death because he couldn’t help them.

They switched again, Alex, Blitzen and Hearthstone, Annabeth, Mallory, Sam, the kids from Perthro, Halfborn, T.J, Alex, Annabeth… They screamed and cried, wailed as they fought to get out and called for help, their frightened broken voices clawing at his ears, making the tears come out harder.

“Magnus!”

“Help!”

“Please!”

He fell on his knees in front of now Mallory and tried to push the beam off her as she turned into Sam. Yet as much strength as he put into it he couldn’t make the burnt wood budge. Sam was grasping his shirt his soot-covered hands, crying with broken sobs.

“N-No! L-leave, Magnus!”

Alex took her sister’s place, taking his face into his hands and looking into his eyes with frightened, tear-filled eyes.

“Leave me behind! Go!”

Then his friends from Perthro were under the rumble, Sarah and Helen, little Cheyenne and Tommy.

“N-n-no! P-please don’t leave! Help!” Cheyenne cried, her body shaking like a leaf by her sobs.

The people changed, teary eyes and frightened screams, they clawed at his clothes begging for help. Magnus was crying so hard he almost couldn’t see them anymore because of the tears in his eyes. His heart was beating like a drum and his breathing was fast and shallow. He felt his hands shake and the air seemed to catch in his throat, stopping him from breathing properly.

You can’t, save them, they’ll die. They’ll die and it’s your fault. You couldn’t help them and they’ll die like you feared.

Magnus’s body was shaking now, the sobs reaped out from his throat. Mallory was reaching out to him with her burnt hands and Magnus wanted to lie down and let the flames eat him along with the whole room but something about that last thought shook him like cold water in the face.

Feared. “Fears cannot be easily tamed,” the parchment said. This guarding was supposed to show him “things you won’t want to see” and there was a chest on the wall next to the glass box.

A boggart, he realized with a start. The final guardian is a boggart. You need to get through your worse fears to get the last ingredient.

The realization helped ground him and his shaking stop. He knew how to take on a boggart and that knowledge helped, even if he wouldn’t be able to cast the spell with the magic-binding runes on the walls.

Slowly, with trembling legs, he stood up. T.J’s fingers were tugging at his leg desperately, but he moved on. He stepped towards the glass bow, tried to shut out the shrill voices of his friends under the debris.

“Magnus! No! P-Please!”

He wasn’t able to figure out who was screaming anymore. All the voices had blended together into an ear-splitting cacophony. His fingers touched the glass lid and opened it as the nightmarish chorus shrieked, “Your fault your fault you let us die your fault.”

Magnus took the small wooden box and the key that lay behind it and turned for the door. The boggart’s appearance was changing so rapidly now that he couldn’t make out each person, only characteristics – the grey eyes he shared with Annabeth, Mallory’s red mane, T.J’s dark skin, Sam’s shinning eyes and Alex’s green hair. The shrill screaming kept coming out of the creature’s mouth was yelling accusations at him – your fault your fault you left us your fault – and the tears didn’t stop pouring from his eyes.

Still, he kept going, reminding himself with each painful step that these weren’t his friends, his family, his Alex. They weren’t dying, they weren’t in danger. And even if they ever were, if they ever got in danger, he wouldn’t let them get hurt.

He pushed the key into the keyhole and unlocked the trapdoor, falling through onto a heap on the floor. The trapdoor closed behind him, keeping the boggart inside.

Magnus lay there on the floor for a second, panting heavily. Then he pushed himself up despite how much he wanted to stay on the floor, wiped the tears out of his eyes and run to the Hall of the Slain.

“And Magnus Chase has taken the last ingredient! He’s making his way back to the dining Hall!”

Magnus tripped as he was climbing down the stairs, half-paying attention to Professor Thor’s words. He picked himself up and kept running down the necks at breakneck speed. He jumped over the last three steps and sprinted down the halls to the Hall of the Slain, pushing his body as much as he could and then some.

“The Hogwarts Champion is almost there!” Magnus heard Professor Thor say as he run. “Raphael Beaumont is close behind him and Helga Leifsson…” Thor’s voice faltered there and when she spoke again his voice sounded more distant, like he had turned away from the mike and was talking to someone else. “Are you sure she’s fine? She doesn’t look too good.”

Magnus finally reached the doors of the dining hall, which were thankfully open because he would have probably run straight into them at his speed. He rushed to his table and emptied the contents of the bag on it, scrambling to find the parchment with the instructions for the potion.

“Magnus Chase has set to work! He has thirty minutes to make the antidote!”

The room around him was a mess of screams and cheers but they were white noise to him as he put his cauldron on the fire and started heating water. He was cutting up the weird glass he got from the Hippogriff when Raphael came running into the room and started making his own antidote.

Magnus was moving his spoon in circles inside the murky contents of the cauldrons, hating the five minutes he had to repeat the action according to the recipe. His eyes were trained on Alex’s body the whole time, the shallow rice and fall of her chest. Once he was done stirring he dumped inside the ingredients from the wooden box, a fine ashen dust.

Twenty minutes remained in the clock when Helga arrived looking like a complete mess. Tear tracks run down her cheeks, her whole face was red from crying and her hair looked like she had been pulling at it. Blood had seeped through her sleeve and she must have cast a spell to stop the bleeding. Thor made an announcement about her arrival but Magnus wasn’t paying attention to him, only to the liquid that bubbled inside his cauldron, changing from brown to a deep green. The recipe said it had a sky blue color when it was ready.

Ten minutes to go and Magnus was measuring the amount of the purple liquid he had to add to the mix. His hands were shaking as he tracked each drop falling from the bottle.

Just then, a loud clanging sound sounded, startling Magnus and making everything he held in his hands fall to the ground. If he had looked up from the spilled liquid on the floor he would have seen that the source of the noise was Raphael pulling all the measuring cups out of their place under the table.

Gasping was heard from the stands. “Oh no, Magnus Chase just spilt one of his ingredients!”

Magnus was understandably freaking out. He was almost done with the antidote too. What was he supposed to do now? What would happen to Alex?

“H-here,” he heard a voice saying. He looked up and was surprised to see Helga holding out her bottle of purple liquid to him. He hadn’t recognized her voice at first, not with how broken it was. “I-I only n-need half of it.”

Magnus couldn’t believe what he was seeing but he took the bottle from her hand. “Why?’ he asked.

Helga didn’t answer, just stared at a spot in the stands and when Magnus followed her gaze he found her parents looking at them with angry eyes.

Magnus measured the liquid he would need and gave the bottle back to Helga with enough inside to use for her own antidote. He stirred the antidote in his cauldron and raised the temperature in the fire. The liquid’s color was changing from green to blue and Magnus felt his pulse pick up and a smile break out on his face the closest he got to completing the potion.

Once the liquid had a light blue color her scooped it up and put it in a small bowl. His eyes were stuck to it as he walked as fast as he could to Alex. Every time it sloshed inside the bowl and got too close to the lid his heart dropped but he managed to reach his girlfriend’s unconscious body without dropping it.

He cradled Alex’s head in his hands and touched the bowl gently to her lips, opening her mouth to make her drink it. He was thankful for his Healing classes showing him how to do this. The blue liquid trickled past her lips and into her mouth, a drop trailing past her chin.

Once the contents of the bowl were drained, he waited. With every passing second he felt his fears grow – what if he had made a mistake, what if it didn’t work, what if it was too late and she never woke up?

Then Alex’s eyes opened and she shot upwards. She started coughing violently, like she was trying to force a rock out of her throat. Magnus let out the breath he had been holding and broke out into a wild smile, tears welling up in his eyes, happy tears. He couldn’t help the joyful little laugh that left his mouth as he surged forward and hugged Alex close to his chest.

Alex had stopped coughing and she wrapped her arms around Magnus, looking at confusion at the laughing and weeping boy in her arms. The world around her came into focus and she looked up to see the students of the three schools looking down at her and Magnus. To her right, Raphael was pressing a bowl to Louis’s lips, who was lying on a table. Helga, face red and tears in her eyes, was rushing to finish a potion of some sort while Agatha lay on a table in front of her. Magnus was still holding her like he thought he’d never see her again and his tears were seeping into her shirt.

“Um, not that I’m complaining for the hug, but what’s going on?”

Magnus looked up at her, a smile brighter than the sun on his face and tears in his eyes. Alex cupped his cheek, wanting to kiss the tears from his face. Magnus leaned into her touch and the love she saw in his eyes left her breathless.

“Remember the treasure I was supposed to save for the second task?” He asked softly. Alex nodded.

“Well, I saved it.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, kissing her gently and softly, like he wanted to take his time and do this for the rest of the day. Alex relished in the feeling of his lips and put her arms around his neck, pulling him closer and drowning in him.

They pulled apart, but just barely, staying close enough that it was like the rest of the dining hall didn’t exist and they were the only ones there.

“You’re a sap,” she told him quietly, affectionately, making it clear that she loved that about him even if she teased him.

“But I’m your sap,” Magnus replied with a smile. Alex wiped a tear from the corner of his eye and pulled him in for another kiss as the crowd clapped around them.

Goodness, that was huge. In case you’re curious, I got the first two riddles from my dad and the last from my grandpa’s crossword magazine. You can thank my sister for the name Alfred for the Sphinx (I asked her what I should name the Sphinx and she told me to name him after Batman’s butler) (I hope I remembered the name correctly). The top hat and bowtie are also thanks to her because I wasn’t sure if I should include that but she said I should. If you’re wondering, Helga got injured when she insulted the Hippogriff. Mon cher, s’il te plait, reveille toi! – My dear, please, wake up! Fan, snälla vakna, jag ber dig, vakna - basically "Shit, please wake up, I beg you, wake up" Until next time, see ya!

#Magnus chase and the obligatory hogwarts au #magnus chase #alex fierro #fierrochase #fanfiction #fanfic #my fic

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